#fishy's fic

[weirdfishy]

my ko-fi 💛

“You know, when kidnappers make ransom calls, they usually pay enough mind to dial the right number. But,”—D charges him, coming with a right hook; Danny steps into it, his back to the guy’s front, and flips him clear across his body with ease—”at least I’m not Red Hood.”

inspired by this post

[fishcop]

Arthur and dulled teeth :>

From the amazing fic ‘weep, oh my penitent heart’ by @octolingo-writes!

[saym0-0]

wip of @watcheraurora's kings tide impulse and skizz because. i love them. left at an awkward place because i was kicked out of my moms room (where my ipad is plugged in) because she wanted to go to bed lmao

[drdtshipping]

Hi, so, it's been a while. I apologize for inactivity. Honestly, my excuse is pretty much what you hear from most depressed people: depression hits like a bitch, and lack of motivation. That basically sums it up for me. Oh, plus drdtxmas... Which y'all should join! Really fun!

Right now I'm writing some terueden for drdtxmas. Since I'm mentioning it, maybe I'll promote it here when I post it.

Anyway, here are some tidbits or head cannons that may or may not have to do with the fic. They're all family-related. Some of these I might reuse in other fics, too. I don't know.

tw: there's homophobia in this, and it gets icky.

Enjoy.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Eden's parents are supportive of her sexuality but aren't quite understanding of what her sexuality is. Or specifically, that it's possible for a woman to love only a woman or a man that loves only a man. In their eyes, Eden is bi or pan and happens to fall for another girl.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Eden's parents adore Teruko. They don't talk about her sexuality at all after they learned that Teruko has dated men, too. But they adore her strength. They know Teruko can keep Eden safe, and they love that Eden is happy with her. Mostly because of what Teruko can do physically for Eden (as in, protection, and since they see her as a tomboy, maybe she'll show their daughter that women will always love men).

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Teruko's brother likes Eden, and he loves Eden for Teruko. In contrast to Eden's family, Teruko's brother thinks she's good for Teruko from a more emotional standpoint. She's kind, patient, loving, affectionate, forgiving, and a good person. He believes she has the potential to teach Teruko some valuable lessons, especially when it comes to what drives other people.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ They seem like a cat couple, and Eden is a cat person, but she also loves dogs (Teruko is a dog person). So, they have a small dog they adopted from a rescue shelter.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ They also have a turtle.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ They'll take in foster pets, but if they foster a dog, it has to be at least eight years old.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Eventually, after marriage and therapy and preparation, they took foster kids, too. Specifically babies and teenagers above fourteen.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ The only adoption they made besides their first dog was a golden retriever, comedically named Sandy.

-Mod Fishy!!

[weirdfishy]

ooooo queenieeeee that's gorg i can't wait to see what it's for! lucky enough i just wrote today, so i'll grab a bit from there that isn't just vague text with copious parenthesis :D

A breeze through the open sliding door curls around his unconsciously clenched fists, and he leases them of their tension slowly, rubbing the nail marks out on his plush comforter. Korn flops down on his bed, and almost hates that he still fits the length of it, that his dad still thinks him a child enough to both share a room with Great—as if there aren’t two floors worth of empty rooms— and sleep on a twin sized bed, his shoulders hardly fitting its width.

low pressure tagging: @shire-baird @bellamyblakru @peppers-writing @mashumaru @empressofthelibrary @star-touched-shrike and anyone else who would like to :)

(this is me booping you guys with a heart and a smile after awhile of not interacting <<33)

Last Line Meme -

Thank you @samuelroukin for the tag <3, I've been working on the monsterfucker wip, finished the first chapter actually, so you're getting the glimpse of the ending.

The last thing he remembered was the sting of the chemicals in his lungs; his heart constricting in a slow, painful rhythm as he repeated the name Johnny before his thoughts ceased to be.

Can you tell they're not having a good time cjdnifjd

tagging: @forsaire @forestshadow-wolf @alllthequeenshorses @tragedycoded, no pressure tags <3

[fishyvamp]

I wish Ghostface was real so I could pick him up and rattle him around like a maraca

Shake that man into oblivion

Yes! Pick him up and shake him, see the knives and Polaroids come loose. Call him baby girl as you pin him to the wall. Throw the man over your shoulder and take him away, I will make this pathetic man weep with the things I would do to him. I may not be a killer, but I am a menace. You will get him crying from over stimulation as his hands are tied uselessly above his head. Making sure there is not a thought in that pretty head as he moans your name.

[ravenwriter16]

Creative Minds Think Alike

Ep. 1 -- Ep.2 -- Ep. 3 -- Ep. 4 -- Ep. 5 --Ep. 6 -- Ep. 7 (Here!)

Featuring the Amazing: @robinette-green

Reminder! If the Content Creator doesn't approve of how I represent them, or their AUs/OCs then I edit my work or DELETE it.

It's not my intention to mock or belittle anyone's work. This series is supposed to showcase amazing creators! This is one of my longer works since there is more world building so heads up!

Enjoy!

The setting sun casts the exterior of the grand castle in oranges and purples, shadows dance in every crook and cranny. Fireflies light up the garden, letting couples and groups of Creators and DCA variants walk and chat peacefully.

Every now and then a soft breeze would blow through, kicking up some of the fall leaves. The left-over pumpkins from the Halloween festival sit out of the smaller woodland creatures to nibble on. Soft candlelight emits from some of the tree houses and green houses in the large garden.

Hidden by the large willow and pine trees was the large wall that surrounded the castle grounds, built to keep unwanted forces out. But some people seem to not be getting the concept.

A shovel breaches the dirt patch a few feet away from the wall. It pushes away the dirt and retracts back into the ground. The top of a gray head lifts up, yellow eyes scanning around the area. It goes back into the hole and a squeaky voice loudly whispers,

“No one’s here. Come on.”

Grunts follow and a teenager size creature is pushed out of the hole. Skin all gray, hair white and braided down to his hip. Glowing yellow eyes scan the area once more before pulling up two more look-alike beings from the hole.

“Zur! Why did you have to eat those cakes?!” The first one huffs at the smallest member of their trio.

“Oh, shut up, Fint.” Zur snaps, kicking his feet to get him out of the hole. “Come on, Mog! Put your back into it!”

“Silence.” The older of the trio hisses, grunting as he finally pulls his brother out of the hole.

Flint drops Zur’s hand and collapses on the floor, panting. Zur wipes his brow with the back of his hand, rearranging his cloak so that it hid his daggers. He looks up at Mog, narrowing his eyes as his older brother crouches low to the ground, using the bushes as cover.

“Do you see anyone coming?” he asks.

Mog merely shakes his head. Flint catches his breath, sitting up right. “Why did we have to do this again?”

“Because we didn’t show up to the meeting when they voted, idiot.” Zur hisses.

“Oh, shut UP fatso.”

“Who you calling—,”

“Silence.” Mog spits, turning his head and burning gaze on his brothers. “You are both fools. We are in enemy lines. If we are caught, we’ll be given a fate worse than death…”

“Then why not just go home and call it a day?” Whines Flint, tossing his hands up in the air, “Let someone else do this—,”

“Where is your honor, dimwit.” Zur smirks as Flint growls at him.

Mog snaps his fingers, “Enough.”

Both quiet down but not before giving each other crude hand gestures. Then they crawl closer to Mog, waiting for his cue. The oldest scans the garden, watching as the remaining creators head inside their houses or head back to the castle.

The sun had fully set now, casting the grounds in totally darkness save for the merciful light the stars and full autumn moon provided. After waiting for a few more precious moments, he steps out onto the cobblestone path. He motions for the other two to do the same.

All three pull up their hoods and put on their black oni masks. They give each other a small nod, before quietly making their way to the middle of the garden. Small fireflies light up the path but very faintly, as the castle has a curfew put in place to the many complaints by Moondrop variants.

Or so the Acquisition has been informed.

The trio still when they spot the fountain they have been searching for. They rush to it, Flint looking into the water, Zur staring in awe at the construct, and Mog keeping his mind focus on the mission.

Flint’s eyes glimmer with greed when he spots the shimmering pink glimmer of heart gems. Tosses into the fountain like coins in a wishing well. He plunges his hands into the cold, frigid surface, scooping and grabbing any gem he could find. He pulls them out and hastily shoves them into his pouch.

Zur takes in the beauty of the fountain. The marble intricately carved and molded in a way that made it look like it wasn’t solid stone at all. It looked like at any moment it would become a crashing wave. The water it sprouted glowed a bright blue, lighting up the entirety of the fountain.

It was the most magical thing he has ever seen.

“Found it,” Mog’s gaze was focused in on a very large, unearthly, mushroom with a door and a few round windows. He starts his way towards it, grabbing Zur by his pointed ear. Said troll yelps and grunts as he’s dragged by his older brother.

“Flint, keep an eye out.” He spits through gritted teeth.

All Flint does in response is pull out more gems from the water, smiling like a lunatic. Zur rolls his eyes, hissing when Mog pulls harder on his ear. “Alright! Alright!”

“Shhh!”

“Oh, shut up.”

A hard pinch is applied to his abused ear. “OW! Okay, shesh…”

They walk closer to the mushroom house, disappearing behind some bushes.

Flint pushes his haul out of the fountain and onto the dry ground. He climbs out, clothes making a splatting sound when he touches ground and crouches. He starts counting the gems, moving them into his pockets.

He didn’t notice in his haze of greed how the gardens went dead silent.

“These creators are just throwing all of these beauties away! What idiots! More for me then, heh.” He cackles, picking up his pace with shoving and more gems into his pockets. “With these I can buy my OWN castle.”

He stands up, the sides of his pants bulging with his haul. He looks over again at the fountain, staring earnestly at all the left-over gems still in the water. It was all too much, but he could always come back. But with a giant sack next time for an even larger haul.

“Mrrrp?”

Flint jumps out of his skin, head snapping from here to there. He thought he was alone here in the large garden. But clearly that was not the case. Yellow eyes stop at the cobblestone pathway, focused in on…

A…Cat?

Sitting there with a purple collar around its neck, was the feline. Fur mostly black with lines of brown, tall ears that stood straight up, and wide green eyes with sharp, black, slitted pupils. Its tail flicks as it tilts its head at the troll, curling around air.

Flint blinks at it, “What are you-,”

The cat tilts its head again, and something glints in the spot where its mouth should be. Flint gasps, eyes widening and his greed comes flooding back. In between the cat’s sharp teeth, was a silver coin with identical glowing green runes on both sides of the item.

“A…A Riblogian coin…” Flint’s hands start trembling, “One of those is worth more than all those gems…I just need to get—,”

The cat gets to its feet, turning around and looking over its shoulder at the troll, tail flicking and curling. A low meow works its way through the creature’s throat before it takes a step forward in the opposite direction of the crazed intruder.

Flint snaps out of his funk, a crazed smile splitting his lips. He hooks his index finger in a ‘come hither motion’ and takes a step closer to the poor feline. “Here kitty, kitty~.”

The cat turns around and bolts off down the path. Flint curses under his breath and takes off after the creature. The chase ensued all around the garden, weaving around trees, over and under bushes, until finally, they reach one of the corners the castle walls made.

Well corner was a bit of a stretch, if anything it looked like a long and narrow alley way. The cat was at the end of said alley way, trapped. Flint chuckles as the feline chirps almost in annoyance and turns around to face him, back arched.

“Stupid runt. This is a dead end!” Flint crouches down, picking up a rock and testing its weight. “So how about you just give me that trinket in your mouth, and you won’t get hurt…THAT much. How does that sound?”

“Hsss!” the cat’s fur stands on in, fangs bared as Flint gets closer and closer.

“Just.” He’s only a few feet away.

“Come.” He raises the stone over his head.

“HERE!”

He rams down his arm to attack the feline, but the little creature pulls a fast one. As Flint leans forward in his attack, his legs where wide open along with the space between them. In lightning-fast speed, the cat bolts through the opening, scurrying to the front of the alley.

Flint, caught off guard, falls forward, slamming his chin hard into the rocky ground. His teeth clamp on his tongue, and he feels his mouth start to fill with the metallic taste of blood. Stars dance in his vision and a continuous loud ringing echoes in his ears.

He gets to his knees, grunting in pain. A strained chuckle escapes his clenched jaw as he wipes the small dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth. Growling, he gets to his feet, picking his stone back up.

“You little—! Where did you go?!” He whips around.

His smile drops, skin turning as white as his hair. He looks down at the sharp blade being pressed against his chest, not enough to pierce through skin but enough to pierce through the thick strands of the fabric of his shirt.

Yellow eyes follow the blade from its tip to the metal hand warped around the handle. Dark red sleeves of a coat come next then finally to the piercing blues eye glaring down at him from underneath a Tricon hat with a blood red plumage hanging from it.

The being growls, showcasing sharp canines.

“My, my MY! What do we have here~?” the voice startles Flint and he looks over the strangers shoulder to find another being.

This one also made of metal, though instead of a hat, tall sharp rays lined his head. Blue eyes, lighter than the other’s, stare at Flint in amusement. In his hands was the cat, enjoying the pets it was getting from the metal creature.

“A lost minnow? What a shame!” The being chuckles, stepping forward so now he stood beside his comrade. “What shall we do with him, Moon?”

Moon?! Flint looks back and forth between the two.

Oh…SHIT!

“You’re...! You’re both…! But—,”

“Silence.” The moon variant presses his blade a tad harder into Flint’s chest, “Do not speak unless spoken to.”

“Oh, don’t be so hard on the lad, Moon.”

“He’s trespassing Sun.” Moon rolls his eyes. “And he tried to hurt Viola.”

The who now?!

Sun sighs, moving his sharp finger to scratch under the cat’s chin, “Did that mean little troll hurt you, little Vi? Did he~?”

The cat purrs under the affection, dropping the coin from its mouth. Flint yelps, wanting to move to catch it, but can only watch as the trinket just falls into the awaiting palm of Moon.

Said being holds it up to his eyes, rolling it between his fingers. His gaze wanders back to Flint, “This little thing was what was causing all this trouble?”

Flint takes a step back, the gems in his pockets clinking. Sun hums in disappointment as Moon growls louder. “Such greed…”

“I do think we need to teach this young lad a lesson about the consequences of stealing what is not his.” Sun helps the cat to his shoulders.

Moon smiles, the moonlight reflecting off his blade and lighting up his face. “I agree. Let’s begin, shall we?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mog stands like a watch tower, arms crossed as he surveys the tress surrounding him and Zur. Fingers twitching ever so slightly, curling around his arms. Occasionally he would glance down at the sheath knife handing from the side of his belt.

He hated all the silence…

The younger troll was crouched down in front of the door of the unnaturally tall and large mushroom house, lock picks in his hands. Zur sighs, narrowing his eyes as he works, “We haven’t heard from Flint in a while.”

“It’ll be fine just...keep doing your job.” Mog groans, rubbing his temple. They were going to be behind schedule if they kept this pace.

“Alright alright…Geez…”

Mog glances at his brother, tapping his foot faster and faster. He growls and turns to face him, “Can’t you pick that lock any faster?”

“You wanted me to pick a lock. I’m picking the damn lock!” Zur leans back on his feet, gesturing to the door, “You think you can do it better?!”

Mog growls, but bits his tongue. He faces the line of trees once more, “Just do it.”

Zur nods his head. “Yeah! That’s what I thought!”

The troll gets back to work, only now he starts mumbling his annoyance. “Come here with ME to pick a lot, then yell at ME how I do it… and I never yell at you with how…you organize…paper.”

“Just SHUT UP and do it.” Mog spits through clenched teeth.

Zur rolls his eyes, “Fine…What are we even looking for in here?”

“We’re looking for records, keys, ANYTHING we can use against this…place.”

“Yeah, but like…” Zur shrugs his shoulders, “Why THIS place. Is this like some famed creator’s or something—,”

“No, you Idiot!” Mog snaps, “This is where the Archivist stays.”

Zur freezes, looking at Mog with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “YOU wanted ME—,” he backs away from the lock, “to BREAK in to the Archivist’s house, in the middle of the night?! Unarmed?!”

“She is just…a giant…HARPY!” Mog spreads his arms out, “Pluck her wings if you have to!”

Zur drags a hand through his hair, “She has creations—,”

“—That go in lock down!” Mog rolls his eyes, hands planted on his hips. “I planned for this; no creation is out past a certain curfew…”

Zur starts pacing, “Well what about those creepy Moon guys?!”

“They are still ON a curfew, and they can only be active INSIDE the castle. And only if their creator is up…That’s their whole point.”

“Yeah! But what if the Archivist is up—,”

“If she was do you think we’d be DOING this?!” Mog grabs his brother by the collar, shaking him slightly. “Stop being a wuss and do…your…JOB.”

Zur swallows, seeing the raging fire in his brother’s eyes. “O-okay…”

“Now get back to work,” Mog tosses his brother to the ground, “quickly.”

“Geez…” Zur sighs, giving his brother a pointed look before crouching down in front of the lock once more, “Can you feel the brotherly love here~.”

As Zur is working and Mog is overseeing his work, a scurrying sound comes from the bushes. Zur whips around, “What was that?!”

“Nothing, get back to work—,”

“I am getting sick and tired of hearing that!” Zur points to the bushes, “Someone is out there. You go check while I work. Can you do that instead of just standing there all high and mighty?”

Mog grits his teeth then takes a deep breath. He turns on his heels, “Fine.”

“Thank you~.” Zur mocks. “You can do one good thing at least…”

Mog rolls his eyes, drawing his dagger with one hand while the other clenches into a fist. Why he decided to bring his brothers along and not his own troops, he would never know…

He readies himself as he nears the bushes, dagger at the ready to deal some damage to any late-night creepers. Reaching out with his free hand, he grabs some branches and getting ready to pull them away. He takes a deep breath, and rips the branches away, bringing his dagger down on…

Nothing…

He was right, his brother was wrong. There was NOTHING!

Mog breaths sharply out his nose, sheathing his knife. “There’s nothing here. You’re hearing is as faulty as ever…” He turns around, “And your lock picking skills have gotten much slower over the years—,”

He stills, blinking a few times just to make sure.

His brother was nowhere to be seen, his tools scattered carelessly along the ground. Mog growls, taking small and quiet steps forward. Upon coming closer to the discarded tools, an out of place object catches his eye.

It was a simple wooden cross.

“Strange…Never took Zur as religious…” He bends down, picking up the cross and flipping it this way and that. “Looks old…”

“EXCUSE me?!”

He whips around, startled. A human man with golden hair and blue eyes stands there, arms crossed over his chest, which was covered with cris cross leather straps and full of pure silver blades. “That is a high-grade, freshly carved cross! It is not OLD as you so put it, good sir.”

Mog blinks at the dark coated figure, confused beyond his years. “Wha—,”

“I mean the nerve! Do you always criticize other people’s equipment?” The golden-hair man puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes, “You don’t see me spitting about that dull bladed weapon on your hip.”

Mog growls, taking a step back and drawing said ‘dull-bladed weapon’. “Leave before things get bloody.”

The man tsks, “Such a VIOLENT personality! You’ll be too dangerous out at this time of night. It’d be best if you come with me quietly—,”

“I don’t think you quite understand the severity of the situation,” Mog scoffs, lifting his blade, “I could kill you right here and now…Let your blood stain this grass for all to see.”

The man hums, “Hmm, sorry. But I only allow ONE person that honor and well…they’re not here right now.” He sighs, lifting his arms in a ‘what are you going to do’ like manner. “Well if you aren’t going to come peacefully—Moon would you be so kind?”

“Moon?” Mog tilts his head.

A tap on his left shoulder follows and in a lapse of judgment he turns his head. He only saw the blur of blue hair with white streaks before the fist connected hard with his nose. He cries out in pain before his vision goes black and he falls to the ground. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pirate Sun and Human Sun tosses the last of the troll trio into the cell. Not caring as they slam the metal door shut and locking it. The Moons where busy putting the rest of the ropes and chains away, the ones that they didn’t use on the captives.

“What a night.” Human Sun yawns, stretching his arms. “I’m about ready to collapse!”

“Then Moon and I will keep first watch.” The robotic Sun beams at his human variant.

Said Moon nods his head, fixing his hat to better rest on his head, “Just be sure to inform Robin before you turn in.”

Both humans nod, heading up the stairs and out of the dungeon. Upon reaching the top, they open the door to the main room.

The room was large, allowing multiple people in it at a time. In fact, one could hold an entire ball here and still have space. Lining the walls where windows allowing one a spectacular view of the garden and night sky, with all it’s stars.

The ceiling had a tent-like quality with all the colorful silks hanging from various support beams. You could hardly see the roof itself or the said support beams. And woven into the fabrics where small hovering orbs of yellow light. These orbs provided light for the room, dimming and brightening as they float around. Some even lined the windows and outlined the floor.

Around the room where some plush couches, chairs, and even some lounge chaise armchairs. Creating a relaxed and warm environment. Of course, there was also some Sun and Moon themed pillows and plushies, just waiting to be cuddled.

In one corner of the roam was a large, plush office chair behind a grand desk. The back of the chair was facing the desk itself, obscuring the person sitting there, but it couldn’t hide the flicking cat tail and black tail feather poking out from the armrests.

“Hey boys.” A hand reaches out and pets the cat tail, “How are our guest? Comfy?”

Moon smiles, “Of course. Only the best for our dear Friends.”

“How is little Viola?” Sun asks, concerned.

The chair spins around. Sitting in it was a tall woman with short green and pink hair. She had on a lose white poet shirt and a pair of black pants. Around her waist is a black leather belt and flanking her sides where dual sheathed, mystical, wielding swords.

In her lap was her feline familiar, purring as she receives pets from her owner. The woman’s green eyes light up as she scratches Viola’s belly, “She’s alright.”

Sun deflates with relief, “Oh thank the stars!”

Moon tilts his head, his hair falling to the side a bit from the action. “You already sent for one of the ravens, Lady Robin.”

The creator looks over at the arm rest, meeting eyes with the raven. The creature chirps, tilting it’s head. Around it’s neck is a green ribbon with a small bell tied to it. Robin smiles, flicking the bell and smiling as the raven puffs up from the sound.

“It was already waiting and pecking at the window when you four came back with the intruders.” Robin sighs and crosses her legs. “Smart little guy.”

The raven puffs up its chest, cawing with pride. Viloa purrs, moving closer to the bird. The raven hops into Robin’s lap, nuzzling close to the feline. The cat purrs, tail curling around her buddy.

Robin smiles before leaning forward and taking her pen, “With those three, what is the count for tonight?”

“Twenty-three.” Sun and Moon say at the same time.

Robin nods, writing down the number in the report, “Twenty…three…Got it! Thank you both!”

“No problem sunshine!” Sun beams, “It’s always fun to scare these young trolls.”

Moon huffs, “You would think they would learn after the first five times…”

Sun shrugs, “More fun for us!”

Robin smiles, “Indeed. Now!” She rolls up the report and lifts the raven from her lap. She places the bird gently on the desk, tying the scroll to one of its legs. “Alrighty little guy.”

It tilts its head and gets to his feet, flapping its wings in excitement. Robin chuckles, “You okay with getting this report to your owner?”

It caws and takes off, circling around the room. Moon heads over to the door, opening it. The raven dive bombs towards him, gliding out the doorway. Moon closes it after making sure that the little messenger was fully out.

Robin moves her cat to the floor, giving one last pet before getting to her own feet. She stretches her arms over her head, yawning. Her aura spikes, making every living everything in that building hear a faint melody created from various creatures and beasts. Peaceful but underneath there was this wordless pulsing power. Much like a caged beast that is just waiting to be released into the arena.

Robin sighs and lowers her arms, smiling at Sun and Moon. “You guys can head back if you like. I think that was the last patrol for the night.”

Moon nods his head, “Alright. Make sure to lets us know if something happens and you need help.”

Robin tsks, “I’m sure I can handle it.”

“Yes, but we need the intruders in one piece.” Sun reminds. “Need I remind you what happened last time—,”

*Knock Knock*

“Oh! That must be Raven!” Robin quickly heads to the door, avoiding both the hunters’ gazes. She opens the door and is met with the Archivist huffing and leaning on the door frame.

The harpy holds up a finger, “One…SEC…Woo…”

“Did you run here?” Robin arches a brow.

“I have been stuck in a stupid council meeting…ALL day.” Raven straightens up. “This was the excuse I was looking for to get out of it.”

“Refductin again?” Robin steps aside, letting Raven walk in.

“Who else?” The Archivist groans before rubbing her hands together. “SO! Where are the little victi—I mean, captives?”

“In the dungeon…want to go interrogate them before I fill out their process forms?” Robin crosses her arms and smirks.

Raven cackles, “Took the words right out of my mouth!”

The two creators rush down the stairs, cackling like witches.

Sun clears his throat and points to the stairs, “Uhm…Should we do something about that?”

Moon shrugs, “Let them have some fun.  Besides, they’re those two pirates’ problem now.”

They both share a laugh before heading to the back, smiling when they hear the cackles grow louder. A loud explosion follows after.

*

I have FINISHED IT! I hope you all enjoyed it especially you Robin! Sorry that it took so long! I wanted to do my best to give you and your characters justice! She also wrote the special entry in the Halloween special (Pt 1.)

And if the rest of you haven't heard of her, go check out her Tumblr! She has a TON of AMAZING stories and art! I hope you all have a wonderful timezone!

[libra-cant-just-dance]

Since Eva Chase is famous, maybe her and Jack Rose know each other? Is that? Is that anything?

[smolestboop]

the only art fight that matters to me atm are my girlies

[uhzuku]

aizawa too >:))

do u mean nyaizawa 🤨🤨

you were incredibly warm. almost burning up, really — and god, were all the blankets on top of you heavy.

something soft tickles your nose, and your eyebrows furrow as you blow out a puff of air in the hopes of blowing whatever it was from your face. you succeed and it disappears, if only momentarily as it returns only a minute or so later to pull you from the haze that was your mind between the softly curled edges of sleep and the contrasting sharp corners of being awake.

your eyes blink open wearily, squinting in the faint light seeping in through the window, and as you gaze around the room with half-opened eyes, you realize the reason of the heat engulfing your body and the irritation to you nose.

your hybrid, shouta, was curled up on top of you, his fluffy tail running across your face every now and then.

now, shouta wasn’t a small hybrid by any means, nor was he young — it was one of the reasons why he’d been the longest stayig members of the hybrid shelter he’d been in for years. he was thirty-two, 6’1, and covered in scars. he was missing both an eye and part of his leg from the knee down ( you’d gotten him a prosthetic three days after bringing him home and watching him hobble around, and it had arrived a month or so later ), and putting his age and all physical characteristics, most people were more than put off by him. they wanted soft, sweet looking hybrids for pets, so he’d been there for six or so years, practically rotting behind the bars of his pen and bored out of his mind. when you’d gone and had been enamored by him, he’d not even bothered looking at you — he’d been so used to being overlooked for younger hybrids of any kind that when he’d heard the words ‘i want him — the one with the thick black tail’ he’d been shocked; he was the only hybrid with an all black tail in the shelter at the time, and he knew he hadn’t heard incorrectly, but he just couldn’t believe it. it wasn’t until the morning he’d woken in his own bed that he’d even registered that it hadn’t been some pathetic dream — he’d told you that however many months ago.

now, a year or so later, the two of you were more than comfortable with each other and shouta found himself in your bed come morning more often than not.

a soft smile twists your lips. “shouta,” you murmur softly, “wake up — it’s morning.”

soft grumbles are your only response, but you can see him open his good eye to look at you tiredly. most of his days were spent sleeping like this, his favorite spot being the loveseat beneath the wide window in your painting studio that would be awash in warm sunlight from mid-morning all the way to late afternoon — and best of all, he got to spend all of that time with you as you worked on whichever painting piqued your interest that day.

“no,” he grunts, covering his face with his fluffy tail, “sleepin’.”

you chuckle, eyes soft, and reach a hand out to press between his ears. “seems i’ll have to eat breakfast by myself then,” you tease, and his ears perk up slightly.

he lets out a deep, heavy sigh, then rolls off of you and does a big stretch.

“fine, ‘m up,” he grumbles, and you just watch fondly as he gets off the bed and saunters from the bedroom. moments later, you’re jolted into action when he yowls, “i’m hungry!”

laughing, you get out of bed and join him in the kitchen, ready to start your day with him by your side.

[weirdfishy]

Danny Phantom x DC

Unknown Caller ID

Gen, Batfam, Pre-Relationship (Bruce Wayne/Danny), Danny gets mis-dialed for a ransom call; he goes to handle it; incomplete

all bits abt this verse will be posted under the ‘uhm do i LOOK LIKE verse’ tag :)

BAMF!Jazz - a post i contributed to

Justice League summons Ghost King Danny, Shenanigans, hinted Anger Management Ship (Jazz/Jason)

Tim Drake's introduction to ✨Ghosts✨

Gen, exactly what it says on the tin, Constantine is there, Crack, Lazarus water is a form of Ecto

full fic list

my ko-fi 💛

[gomzdrawfr]

Evanescence

Everything but you

edited: A series of PriceRaven stories that happened after mw3, or as I like to call it: PriceRaven Canonverse old: another fic for PriceRaven, BUT this is an art + fic combo fic :3 I'll do a separate post for just the art (or you can check out this clip i posted on twt), so for now, enjoy this mess

tags:

angst and fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, canon-typical violence and behavior, character study (done poorly), grief, major character death (MCD), mention of MW3 content, author trying to be poetic but most likely just messing up the narrative flow, miscommunication, happy ending

author's note:

word count: 6,048 (the back part is not proof read)

the italics are internal thoughts or third perspective thoughts

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━ [this divider represent a time skip]

Next Chapter

Raven knew the possibility of Price having to leave for a period of time, and was fully aware of the escalation of things when the news of Makarov started popping up.

“To update you on the breaking news of a Russian passenger jet that crashed…”

“A hundred and thirty-three passengers and nine crew members were on board the flight…”

“Descending very rapidly…..unexplained descent…..” 

“Kastovia flight 761 bound for sochi…” 

“...just hours after a missile attack on Arklove Military Base…..looks to be a terrorist attack” 

They both knew then, that this would be the beginning of a long separation.

A quick goodbye, a hug and a kiss.

A swift departure, leaving Raven to tend to their home with their two lovely cats, their girls, after the shit show that went down between Cobra and Vik. 

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━

Months later, Price would return a changed man, sprawled on the front door and drenched by the rain, clutching onto Raven for dear life as he shakes.

She’d never seen this man in this state; never seen Price that would openly show his distress to this level. 

She could deduce that the operations most likely did not go well, and something terrible must’ve happened.

The guess confirms itself in the form of a watch.

Soap’s watch. Resting on his desk.

And later, a conversation.

“We’ll have to abandon everything”

“The house, the plants, the cars-”

“The girls…”

There was a sense of urgency in his tone,  its timbre deepened and solemn since his return. A frown etched between his brows, accompanied by an increased consumption of cigars and even cigarettes.

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━

“I tied one of many loose ends”

He murmured into her skin in the quiet of night where the world is asleep. Price returned hours ago, dressed in a dark overcoat and a beanie, with a handgun beneath his shirt. 

“Did you now?”

Shepherd huh.

She whispered back, feeling his chin resting on her shoulder, his beard tickling her skin slightly, properly nestled in his arms, but there weren't the usual giggles and laughter that surrounded the two.

No, this was their last night on this bed, on this home.

Their last night in the comforts of their safe haven. 

“Mm” He mumbled back, palms covering her arms as he hugged her closer, spooning her in his arms.

Nervous that somehow, she’ll slip away, taken away from his grasp. 

“....” “Tell me, Pricey” She brushed his knuckles, easing his tension.

“Will you follow me still, Raven….? Even if we have to leave…” he trails off, leaving things unsaid.

She understood fully the gravity of the question. Even if we have to leave away our hopes and dreams, dreams of settling down, growing old peacefully, dreams of comfort and promises of the future.

“Where would I go if not with you, John?”

“...I don’t know, Singapore?”

“...and what does Singapore have to offer again?”

“Really good seafood” 

“So you’re assuming I’ll pick seafood over you?”

“Well, I was hoping you don’t”

A small chuckle escapes her, which made him smile in return, some of the pressure and uneasiness dispersed from this exchange.

“I won’t leave you” She whispered back, holding his hand up to kiss his fingers. Bittersweet murmurs exchanged throughout the night that comforted the two.  “Alright then, Eira”

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━

It was exhilarating and intense for Raven to get back on the field with Price, joined as an ally to provide much-needed support in the mess and development following the escape of Makarov from the Trojan Horse mission.

But they have to admit it was exhausting having to move constantly without a proper place to settle down.

Physically and mentally.

Which explains why they’re here now, on this island that Raven can only assume that it's a personal island owned by Price.

“You telling me you own this place?!”

“Ah well, I wouldn’t say “own”, birdie…”

She still doesn’t fully comprehend what he meant by that.

It was a much needed break, being surrounded by the ocean and forest, exploring the places, catching fishes and crabs.

Price hasn’t seen Raven smiled this much in a long time.

Raven witnessed a side of Price she had longed to see: relaxed, carefree, and at peace. Yet, beneath his newfound calmness, she sensed something off about Price that hinted at a deeper turmoil within him.

There were moments when he'd gaze into the distance, lost in thought, thinking.

Pondering.

This was, unfortunately, one of the many truths Raven had come to understand about Price.

More often or not that contemplative look of his means he is plotting or thinking ahead of things, which inherently, is not a bad thing.

It only became problematic when he kept these plans from her, setting things in motion without her knowledge.

Because that’s what Price does.

Plan, execute, reflect, repeat. 

The other negative trait from this, is that it always means there is something he was harboring within that was threatening to break apart. Troubles he would rather deal with alone.

Things that slowly etched eats him out bit by bit on the inside. 

Now, Price was a man of many many thoughts, meticulously organized into mental compartments, sealed, and cast into the abyss of the unknown.

A man who had no room for lingering emotions: guilt, anger, sadness – anything that could hinder his motives, his plans, his every step. 

A man that is calm, quiet, composed and in control, with a constant battle inside he can never say or show.

Behind his eyes, Raven saw it all.

The ocean behind those eyes of his are no longer violent and roaring, similar to when they had to toss their belongings into a pool of fire after that last night in their home.

Freedom tastes like ash and anger after all.

His eyes are now shrouded in darkness, like the deep blue sea.

Suffering and screams muffled in silence.

Drowning.  

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━

“Up for a ride, birdie?”

“Sure”

It wasn’t uncommon for them to venture into the sea at night, they would drive out in their trusty lil boat (named Cash ‘n’ Fly) far enough until the horizon stretched endlessly, with a seamless line between the sea and the starry sky.

It creates an illusion of infinite space and solitude.

A small escape from everything.

What set this trip apart was the cigar hanging loosely between Price’s lips.

She counted the amount of cigar he used daily, and it was reduced to one or two per day during their break.

So to see him light it up, the fourth one of the day, right now, especially when it's dark and quiet, it could only mean one thing.

“You know…Eira”

And so it begins.

Everything but you.

She had anticipated this conversation, in some form or another.

She didn’t know it would be…this.

Leaving me with the island? I’ll have everything?

And I am supposed to be content with this?

Price was a hardened soldier, a veteran.

A seasoned Captain that has done enough chaos and has enough body piles up below him more than he could handle.

Battles stitched across his skin and back, hands coated in blood and regrets that clung onto his soul.

Far from a savior, close to a sinner.

Hands that were better suited for violence, instead of softness.

It should’ve been just another one of those moments, where he’d tell off some of his men, his soldiers, people who depended on him, boys and girls alike, to leave, to never come back.

To leave him.

So why is it so different when it comes to…the person before him now?

Why does this ache so differently?

What Price has in mind, doesn’t quite align with what John wants.

Needs.

John craves for the simplicity of being loved. Yearns for warmth and understanding, desperate for someone to look into his eyes and see the real him.

John thinks about Eira, thinks about her, her hands, her voice, and he wants more, more and more, a beast that is never satisfied, that can never get enough.

John wants to drown in love. In her.

Price fears that John loves more than he is ever allowed to. 

Price wants what is right.

It’s for the best.

The one sentence that helps justify everything, doesn’t it? 

“....”

Price watches as she stood up abruptly after a long uncomfortable silence, seeing her approaching the bow of the boat-

“Raven?--”

A loud splash was heard, and his body moved before he could process anything.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?? RAVEN??”

Raven, out of all the possible reactions he has anticipated, does none of what he expected and dives into the black sea.

“I'm going back to land!” She yells back with a strain, huffing as she proceeds to swim to the general direction of where the shore was. 

“That’s way too far!! You’ll freeze your arse before you could even reach it!!” “GOOD, I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DIE IN THE OCEAN ANYWAYS”

“EIRA!!”

God dammit.

He quickly drove the boat, starting up the engine to propel the boat towards her, careful not to hit her as he quickly pulled her aboard.

“What–what are you trying to achieve by doing something stupid like this?”

“Nothing productive”

“Ei-”

He stops mid-sentence, seeing her freezing and trembling form, sea water coating her entire form as she shakes like a leaf on the wood.

For a split second, he wanted to ask if she cried, when he saw the red corners from her eyes.

Instead, he took off his jacket and outer shirt to wrap it around her.

The ride home was nothing but silence.

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━

A letter and a necklace, that should be all.

Price thought to himself as he placed the necessary items on the table outside their room, with a heavy bag on his left as his thumb lingered on the necklace.

An owl head marble piece hangs at the end of it, an item he found comfort in whenever they were separated.

Not like it would be…of any use now.

He brushed it one last time, before heading out, leaving Raven behind.

At least, that’s what he intended to do, to leave behind the one person he had willingly, and stubbornly let into his life.

And now, he’s walking away like a mad man.

He sees Nik’s heli in the far distance, the sight both a relieving but solemn reminder of what is about to happen.

Usually, he wouldn’t think.

Just walk, it’s right there.

Yet, he stays rooted in the sand, as if waiting for a miracle.

“Is that it?!” A shout made him flinch slightly, turning around only to be completely knocked down into the sandy beach.

“You think you can throw me aside like a doll, a birdie with songs you’ve grown bored of, is it?”

“Wha-”

A loud clean slap, with the sting now buzzing on his left cheek as his eyes widened.

“You– you don’t get to decide what’s right for me”

“Listen here you– prick! Old geezer whatever the fuck you are right now-” 

“You only get to choose me once, you either live with me forever, or we live our lives apart”

“Can you live your life without me?”

“Eira–”

“Don’t you dare say anything other than to answer my questions”

A long uncomfortable silence stretched between them, as Raven stayed straddling his chest as he lay against the sand that felt like it was burying him up.

It wasn’t when he felt the warm drops of tears on his cheek that his eyes truly met her. 

“....do I mean nothing to you? Am i…just another pawn for you in the grand scheme of things? That could be abandoned once you’re done?”

“What happened to staying together through thick and thin? What about the vows you exchanged when you put this ring on my finger?”

More tears streamed down her face, hands shakily but tightly gripping his collar

“Answer me, coward”

That finally broke Price out of the trance as he quickly reached up to cup her face, brushing away the droplets of pain and sorrow that dampened her delicate face.

“I have to go…” “Why…? Just…just why?” “I wrote everything in the letter-” “I don’t care about the damn letter…tell me straight in the face”

“I can’t-” “John, please”

“I CAN’T LOSE ANOTHER ONE–”

Now it was Raven’s time to pause, a frown that formed for a split second before it softened.

“....” She sighs, letting go of his collar as she cradled his cheeks.

“....you know you won’t” “That’s what I said to him too…you know”

“....it wasn’t your fault”

“sunshine…I called him sunshine…Eira….I-”

“You didn’t know”

“I should’ve…”

His eyes glistened as vision blurred, the months of unshed grief escaping, cascading down to the sand.

Price never got to grieve, it swirls inside, a little bit like a black hole, like infinity. 

A small part of him is lost with every soldier and civilian he loses.

And Soap took a big chunk of him, a good part perhaps, one of his– kinder shards. 

Another, is stuck frozen in the moment, in the tunnel. No goodbye, just an absence, sudden, abrupt end, a gunshot louder than any screams that ensues.

Price tends to get rid of grief, one way or another, because it reminds him of his mistake, because it feels like he is holding onto a lost cause.

But here’s the thing about loss, grief is hanging onto love.

It is why it is always felt at all times.

Even on days where he thought he’d healed, while other days it was like old wounds opening up deeper than before.

There was not a day where he wouldn’t miss his favorite Scottish gremlin. 

And if his absence was strong enough that it makes it hard to breathe, he could only imagine what it would be like if Eira’s gone as well.

“I can’t lose you”

There is no more desperate creature, than a human being on the verge of losing love.

She sighs, leaning down as she lays down next to him on the sand ungraciously, staring up the sky with him

“....leaving me alone here on this island doesn’t guarantee my safety either, you know that right?”

“I have my people watching you here…” “And a tsunami could come and drown us all”

“Well if that happens I would know-” “No, no you won’t”

She can tell he was about to argue as she shushes him gently, turning to face him, uncaring for the sharp sandy stones that scratched into her ear.

“You can’t always take the blame for things out of your control”

She murmured, holding his palm

“...and you can’t let your worry cloud your conscious and…do something stupid like this”

“Don’t push me away, when you’ve already made a place in my heart that will never be replaceable by anyone.”

“....you think this was dumber than you jumping into the ocean?”

“Absolutely” He chuckles lightly, raising a brow as he smiles.

“I don’t want to be…your regret, John” She whispered, voice breaking a little

“Even if we were not meant to be together…we’ve proved that idea wrong, time and time again…”

He shifted, sitting up slightly as he pulls her onto his lap, hands brushing away the sand on her hair slightly (failing, sands are stubborn lil shits) as he lets out a quiet sigh

“I dream of a time where…the universe was never wrong to begin with, and you’re mine to keep…forever”

“Well you ought to pick a better dream” She smiles, leaning up as she landed a small kiss on his nose

“This dream is already true, because Im yours forever, and ever”

“You are stuck with me, whether you like it or not”

“I suppose I am, aren't I…” “Absolutely…” He smiles, and hugged her tightly, everything about this felt neither wrong or right.

It felt like home.

“Now, are you going to continue mopping around in the sand or will Nik start throwing a tantrum when we get there? Last time he did he defied physics..."

“Im sure man’s busy with the coconuts and alcohol over there, plus we need to get your stuff–”

“It’s in your bag”

“my–what?”

He unzips the cover, and realize that somehow Eira’s sneaked her belongings inside

“No wonder it got heavier…” “Im telling you, you’re an idiot” He laughs slightly, ruffling her hair as they stood up, pulling her closer by the ends of her shirt as he kissed her forehead.

“Yes…but I’m your idiot…”

[hatosaur]

why do yall feel compelled to give ellie a biological child. why do you insist on writing ellie to have a more traditional lifestyle. immunity be damned, why is it not enough for some of yall that a lesbian can just not do those fuckin things.

[play-rough]

With 🪼 anon just being posted with the heated blanket it leaves the question of would the heated up stuffed animals you can like, warm in the microwave work wonders too? Obviously it wouldn't be his own since fishy, but Atsushi asks him to babysit one of them if he has to go in a mission or out. Dazai doesn't know about the heat and Kunikida warms it up so it's extra comfy, and Dazai is immediately passed out before they can even manage to leave for the mission. Literal seconds and now they have a new napping trick 😭

-🐝

I love those warmy microwave plushies 😭 I’ve seen some that smell like lavender too 😭 Dazai would be O U T

[incorrect-avantris]

Chuckles : I lost my fish, can you help me find it?

Rett, cooking the fish: What? I couldn't hear you, please speak up.

[fishyvamp]

This is just a small snippet of a larger fic I'm working on and I'd thought I'd share it, it is an OC x Reader fic and yeah it might be out of season with the holidays over, but I think it's still worth sharing.

The sound of crunching snow echoed through the forest, the scent of decay heavy in the air as you trudged through the thick forest to your cabin hidden deep in the woods. The moon was high in the sky. You should've been back in your cabin hours ago, but no, you had to see those caves at sunset. Had to watch the snow glitter in orange and pink. You had to experience it at least once before you surrendered dreams of seclusion. The frost of the air seeped into your clothes shredding at your skin threatening to sink into your bone like a frozen death. You didn't know how much longer your aching legs could go on. The chill of sleep running up your spine.

You had to move on. You had to follow this trail, and yet the more time marched on the further you went the more you body began to buckle. It didn't help that the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end like you were being watched. You wanted to get home, wanted to curl up in the warm of your bed listening to the crackle of a fire as a record played. Anywhere but here where the chatter of your teeth and crunch under boot was all you could hear. That is before you noticed a faint low growl. Your body moving towards the sound you freeze in place boots melding to the ground as glowing eyes stared back at you.

You wanted to bolt and flee from this place you body tense as it stepped out from the thicket. Large cloven hooves flattening the snow beneath its feet. A glowing lantern hanging from a staff held firmly in its claws. Its body that of a man was decorated in tinsel and Holly berries and on its back was a large wicker basket. Large enough to hold a man. It's face, that of a goat with large snarling fangs and long black goat horns. The beast easily stands as tall as many of the trees towering over you.

The beast stepping ever closer, its shadow engulfing you deeper into the only blackness of the cold winter night. You could not move even as you fought to get your feet to even take a step. The claws reach ever closer gripping the scruff of your coat, easily picking you up, “mine.” Its scratchy voice rasped, placing you in the basket. The lid closes over top encasing you completely. You felt petrified physically even if you knew you should fight back and that it would be so easy to push open the basket and run.

However as he moved and the basket swayed the exhaustion came back replacing the adrenaline that raced through your body only moments before. You needed to stay awake. Needed to stay alert because if you didn't… did it even matter anymore? Weren't you about to get eaten by whatever had you? You had no fight or strength anyways. The cold sapped away every ounce of energy you had a couple miles back. Surrendering to your helplessness you let the darkness creep in.

You didn't know what to expect waking the next morning clothes stripped from your body leaving under warm heavy patchwork quilts. It was still dark outside so surely you weren't asleep that long even with all the energy you've seemingly found. Pushing off the plush fabric you fall out of the massive bed with a huff. The sound of metal clinking as you moved horror racking your body noticing the chilled metal connecting to you and the wooden leg of the bed. You needed to escape before it came back. Your mind working overtime scanning the surroundings. It looked like a normal cabin master room albeit with larger ceilings then expected. Likely to accommodate the larger Beast’s size.

A sign of sapience, perhaps? Not just a feral animal. Maybe he could be reasoned with, there was no signs of harm anywhere on his body. You didn't feel like he had violated despite waking up bare for the taking. Rising shakily to your feet you test the limits of the chains you can move just about everywhere even able to enter the large grandiose bathroom. You felt like a child in here being almost too small to use much of anything. Couldn't barely see yourself in the mirror, but what you did see had you frozen in fear, tattoos of a chain wrapping around your neck with a holly berry bunch in the center breaking the chain.

What was that? Your fingers tracing the outlines feeling something warm and pulsing underneath it felt almost magic in nature and yet you couldn't tell if that was a good or a bad thing.

“You're awake,” a deep rumbling voice gruffed. The skin up your back prickling as you came face to face to the beast once more. Not wanting to be defenseless you grab the nearest object to you… a toilet brush. No matter you planned to wield it like a mighty Excalibur and fend yourself from the brute one slash at a time. “Put that down.” He commanded the mark around your neck beginning to burn painfully as you stood firm. “Now.” He bellowed cloven hooves clanking against the ground.

Your limbs screaming as you fought for control over your own body. He did not have time for this dark fur glowing under the light of the bathroom, a smile on his twisted face, goat-like eyes glaring down at you as he folded his arms. “put that down!” The resistance fading from you as you dropped the brush, the burning around your neck painful, knees buckling beneath you as you grab your throat to soothe the burning or what you did not know. It just hurt so much. “Listen the first time pest,” he growled, scooping you off the floor into his warm hair, arms undoing the chain around your ankle.

The beast wasn't gentle as he deposited you roughly to the bed, turning his back on you to scour the closet for something warm for you. A simple t-shirt and red and green flannel pants. Nothing too fancy, but something to help you regain what little dignity you had left. Not wanting to anger him as he just stared expectantly watching you redress before finally turning his goat tail wagging as he softly praises you, “good boy.” he doesn't rechain you nor does he shut the door behind him. An opening that felt too good to be true. Logically you shouldn't bolt. It was clearly a trap, but a burning feeling in the back of your neck called to you like a siren saying this won't come again.

You have one chance as foolish as it was: you creep out quietly looking towards the kitchen seeing him bang his pots and pans preparing a meal of some sort. And while clung to you, you did not want to stay another moment trapped worried about what he was going to make you do.

Conveniently you find your coat and boots by the door and softly you do your best to put them on opening and closing the door silently before bolting. Your feet carrying you deeper and deeper into the woods, the golden rays of the sun illuminating the ground. There was no telling where you were, but something screamed at you to keep going to keep running. You turn around to make sure he wasn't following when the world suddenly stops and you're greeted by a massive man dressed in jeans and plaid with a thick full beard. That same burning feeling telling you to run was now telling you to trust. “Help me.” You whisper, concern racking his face as he helps you to your feet guiding you down the icy mountain. “My name is Nicholas,” He whispered, holding you close, “you're safe now.”