#lemme just become moss

[veinsfullofstars]

To folks who also have a Bluesky, is it worth getting? I keep hearing decent things about it, and the FOMO is creeping up on me, but I don't know if it's worth it, or if I even want to manage more social media right now (plus, the idea of "Twitter but better" isn't the best selling point for someone like me, who never did that well on the former bird site anyway).

[idalenn]

Lillian Kyo - OC Smash or Pass

Rules: pretty self explanatory. Include physical descriptions and/or pics, and propaganda. the "other" label can be used for "sexuality misalignment" (ie: OC is femme and you're gay, vice versa or you aren't into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc)

Quick Facts:

Height - 6'2" / 188 cm

Age - early 30s post DT

Gender - Trans Woman

Sexuality - Pansexual

Pronouns - She/They

PROS:

Accomplished White Mage. You'll survive just about anything.

Need someone to find a rare or specific plant for you? A toxin to be ground, mixed, and splashed onto your weapon? She's your girl. (Just don't ask her to do any preparing. That's a botanist, not an alchemist)

Oodles of physical contact. Nature is healing and so is she. Will carry you bridal style.

Practiced flutist.

Chases the thrill of combat. (This is a pro)

CONS:

Will actively discourage you from going out into Keeper-unfriendly sunlight.

Selfish with her time and person from years of giving all and never having a choice in matters.

Incredibly petulant at times. (Heal-ING not Heal-ED)

Easily stressed by events out of her control and by her own perceived failings. If she trips too much, for example, she will kick a hole in the earth.

Has to constantly remind herself to forgive others and herself.

Not straightforward with her feelings, becoming frustrated when a decent way won't present itself leading to further frustration, which is why she treasures the Echo as she does; one can understand her implicitly through it, or at least witness the events that made her some way and from them draw their own conclusions.

Needs others to be direct and to the point with emotions and feelings. Oftimes more dense than a black hole.

Chases the thrill of combat. (This is a con)

DETAILS:

Whether or not Lillian is wearing gloves remains a reliable indicator of how close she wishes to be with people. Gods help you if she starts wearing gauntlets again.

Excellent wilderness survival skills. Before a Keeper tribe sends their child out into the cold, cruel world, they make sure their child will be able to live without them.

Had to be taught Ishgardian table manners and to bathe more often. If she can get away with forgoing either, she will, but does know which plants she can rub on herself to cover up musk.

Will put weird things in her mouth all the time. Colorful leaves, edible soaps, sour-smelling rocks with familiar looking moss, etc. Which are poison? Which taste good? Which are edible? It's a Keeper trait exacerbated by years as a botanist, so don't think too much about it.

Romantically: Bitingyoubitingyoubitingyou. On a more serious note, she has a lot of love to give, and does so more freely as of late, but her struggle with building meaningful connections and being honest does hamper this. If you do manage to forge this bond and navigate hazy, unchartable waters, she'll want to keep you around for as long as possible, much as she does with the Scions.

You cannot fix Lillian; she can only fix herself. But she is better now than before.

Sexually: Switch, but prefers to let others take the lead if possible. Not entirely comfortable with being pushy or demanding. Try not to give her too much power, though! Take heart in knowing she's an accomplished healer. You will survive. But do keep whining - she likes it.

Tagging: @zoroarkthief (because I want to see a Faren one) but I got to this super late so if you see this and haven't done it already OR want to do it again then take this as your sign to do so!

[teddybeartoji]

HI MICKEY MY BELOVED!!!!! soooooo you already answered my questions from the random question list … SO. i am here to ask you others :3

- do you prefer the sea or the forrest? which makes you feel more alive, and which makes you feel more at peace?

- if you picked the forest: are you the trees, the dirt, or the mushrooms? why?

- if you picked the sea: are you the sand, the waves, or the salt? why?

(also ofc if you’re something else lemme knowwww teehee)

ANYWAYS i love you and i want to kiss you under the warmth of the sun with nervous hands that don’t know what to do besides love you. ANYWAYS :33

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUUUU WHY ARE YOU LIKE THE SWEETEST FUCKING PERSON IN THE WHOLEWIDE WORLD WHAT THE FUCUUUKKK i'm in love with you these are the loveliest questions ever quinn:(((((((((((((((((((

starting off with an AWFULLLLL question btw why are you making me pick between my wives sighhh............. i really love both. such a boring answer i know i know but i don't think i could really live in a place where i wouldn't have both of them close by. 

the sea definitely makes me feel more alive and the forest is a place where i feel calm, at home (this is the most beautifully worded question i'm sitting here with my head in hands btw ilysm). i love going swimming i love just watching the waves. i love collecting sea glass. i love cold water. oh my god i love when the water is just fucking freezing. that makes me feel alive. 

the waves. they take and they take, they swallow and they drown, but people still love the sea. they adore it, they worship it. the waves threaten to sink boats and to end lives and yet, there's something about it. the vastness of it, the depth and the darkness. beautiful, no matter how ruthless and cruel. 

the waves clash against the shore and catch your attention, the call your name like sirens in disguise and invite you closer and closer and closer. it'll be nice, it'll be peaceful. the waves promise to cradle you like a child, but if you mistake the gentle fingers wrapping around your wrists and ankles for anything other than a wild beast dragging you into the depths of its lair… who is to blame? are you at fault for getting drawn in or is it the waves? are they at fault for doing what they know best?

anyway i love forests:33333333 forests always make me feel so comfortable. i love all of the different shades of green i love trees i love moss i love birds i love when the sun shines through the leaves i love how the air is after some heavy rain. it really does feel like home. i went on a little 'hike' with my mom last summer and i just loooved walking through the woods and the bogs here.

you know, i feel like moss resonates a bit more than the trees and the dirt and the mushrooms… and hsadghsaghdghsa i don’t have a pretty answer for you here, i’m afraid. i just keep thinking about how soft it is. and how good it’d feel to just lay down on a moss bed would feel. could stare up at the trees and the sky and just listen to the birds sing around you… maybe it’s not what i am but what i need instead. maybe it’s something i should become, to melt into the ground and grow back as a beautiful patch of moss?

DOUBLE ANYWAYY:3333333333333333 I WISH I COULD DLY YOU OVER HEREEEEEE I WANT TO SHOW YOU AROUND I WANT TO SHOW YOU MY HOME!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT TO SHOW YOU THE OCEAN AND THE FORESTS AND THE BOGS I THINK YOU WOULD LOVE IT:(((((((((((((((((((((( "i want to kiss you under the warmth of the sun with nervous hands that don’t know what to do besides love you" . do you want me to die yes or yes WHAT DID I DOO TO DESERVEE YOUU OH MY FUCKING GODDDD WE HAVE TO KISS WE HAVE TO HOLD HANDS WE HAVE TO LOVE ONE ANOTHER ALWAYS AND FOREVER

[aquaquadrant]

I have!! An idea!! Lemme know if I’m overstepping and obvi you don’t have to even reply, but. I’ve been reading the Hels to Pay AU (I keep forgetting to interact but I’M IN LOVE WITH IT OKAY OKAY)

So those other potential hybrid farms that Hels Tek wants to develop— it’s not a secret that a lot of Hermits (and their respective Helsmits) are in fact hybrids. Maybe Tango feels extra guilty about not telling any of the Hermits because they could be in danger because of that fact, but it’s not like Atlas can hurt them? Because he’s stuck in Hels? And can’t get out? Ever?

Anyways so the potential scenario of Atlas using Tango’s friends against him, just like Jimmy, is ROTTING OUT MY BRAIN. IT’S ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT. I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO HOMEWORK TODAY.

Using any avian— I was thinking Grian at first, but Jimmy is SO much more angsty— for a feather farm, picking their wings apart little by little, cleaning the blood away before manufacturing “quality arrows for a lower price!”

Blowing up Doc over and over again, using stress and anger and fear tactics, collecting gunpowder to use on more farms. Torturing his friends in front of him all in the name of a commodity.

Bdubs and Gem and Stress being used for their plant powers for moss and dye farms. Jevin being picked apart for slime. Cub and Scar’s vex magic drained for potions and enchantments.

Tango is tormented by intrusive thoughts like that nearly every night, and he has been since he escaped the (literal) hellhole that he spent most of his life in. Sometimes Jimmy makes the nightmares better, but it’s not like Tango can tell him about it. It take a conscious effort to not wince in sympathetic pain when he sees these friends, but it’s all part of the mask: calm. Cocky. Strong. Fearless.

-🥞

hi there!! no worries about overstepping, i LOVE seeing so much enthusiasm from readers!

this is VERY PAINFUL, omg. i could absolutely see tango having these sorts of fears as he becomes more attached to the hermits. part of him has always worried he’d get found out eventually, that it’s only a matter of time before he ends up back in the farm. and if he leads hels tek to his friends? even WORSE. he knows they’re a very capable bunch and that it’d be a huge feat for hels tek to successfully capture them, but that’s not always enough to quiet those fears.

and that adds a whole ‘nother layer to his guilt. in tango’s mind, not only is he ‘cheating’ and ‘deceiving’ his friends by keeping his true origins secret, he’s potentially putting them in danger due to his own selfish desires. this self-hatred’s got hands!!

[heretowritesstuff]

Hey everyone

So this is my first bit of writing on here

I know it's definitely not the best but I hope you all enjoy it. I felt we needed a bit more jeremy Allen white content on here you know :)

No warnings at all

Just setting a scene for hopefully a good story

______________

Chapter 1 the beginning

"Okay, that’s great. And cut!" Charlotte yells at the crew

"Hey Andy, that was great?"

The actor breathed a sigh of relief as she jogged toward the iconic actor who had been struggling to get the scene and finally nailed it

Charlotte has been working as a director for years.

She started as a child in some local community theatre pieces and found out that she loved the camera just as much. As much as she had tried to be in front of it her insecurities got the best of her. And through that, she discovered the magical world behind the scenes.

“Thanks, char! Do you need anything else? I hope that take works I was feeling it and felt like I knew- “

“Andrew! That was amazing, perfect shot, perfect take. You were perfect!”

The amazing spider man actor smiled and slightly blushed at your compliments

“It’s a great film, bound to get you nominated with the academy-“

“Andy Andy Andy… let’s not stress me out just yet let’s just get the movie done”

As Andrew had opened his mouth to say something

She heard her name being called in the distance

Her assistant is taking a quick walk towards her while chatting away on a call

Charlotte excused herself from her cast and stepped aside with her long-term friend and new assistant Mia.

Mia rushed toward her slightly out of breath

“Char, I have your agent on the line who in turn has a casting agent from Variety on the line and they would like to book you for an exclusive next Friday”

“Oh my god yeah of course sure, I’ll check the schedules but we should be all set”

Mia nodded and rambled back into the phone line, she glanced up as Charlotte asked

“What interview is it?”

“Actors on Actors,” Mia said quickly

“But I’m not an act-“

Mia got distracted by another voice on the line and mouthed her a quick sorry

MEANWHILE IN NEW YORK

Everyone is cheering, champagne is flowing while laughs are being shared. They had wrapped season 2 of the bear and everyone was a mix of happy, sad, and relieved

It's funny how it may have been a fake kitchen but the tensions were still so real.

Jeremy was sitting in the embrace of his costar Ebon Moss-Bachrach, laughing at some embarrassing set story when he glanced around at the set of the beef which they had called home for almost 3 years.

He was born and raised in New York but truly made a life in Los Angeles. When you spend 11 years on a project they become family. And He had created a family in many ways and no matter how much fun he had he can't help but feel a bit homesick

“Hey Jer, you doing okay?��� ayo asked the blue-eyed boy who was staring into the distance

Jeremy shook his head lightly, getting the thoughts to lose, smiled at her, and said “Yeah I'm great, excited to finally get some damn sleep and order takeout for a while”

The cast laughed followed by Liza saying “oh hell yes I am not going near my stove for at least a month”

They all laughed at this, agreeing that even a microwave meal would be better than working on a stovetop for a while

Just then Jeremy's phone rang

He grabbed it hoping to see a familiar name on the screen, he sighed seeing his manager's name.

He excused himself and went to answer it

“Hey Mark what's up?”

He says leaning against the brick wall of the building, running a hand through his slightly greasy hair. He's not sure if it's hairspray, sweat, or just his hair at this point

“Jeremy! How's my guy doing? Congratulations on season 2. Listen. I have an offer for you. Nothing heavy just an interview for Variety”

“Um Mark that sounds great it’s just, I dunno man I have some things to sort out and “

“J, I know. Listen I don’t need a confirmation right now. Go home, lemme me know in like 2 days and I can book it. If not we grab the next one okay”

“Yeah okay”

After a bit of casual small talk, they say their goodbyes and hang up

Jeremy looks at his phone to see yet another news headliner, some cryptic messages, and a few check-ins. He rubbed his forehead wondering where everything had gone so wrong. How did he get here, something was missing. And it wasn’t the result of what had just happened. That would have been obvious

After he returned and enjoyed a few hours with his cast, he decided fuck it. Not much waiting for him back home. And messages Mark

Jeremy

: Hey bro, I’ll do the interview. When is it?

Mark

: are you sure man? It is next Friday with variety. It’s one of the actor on actors interviews

Jeremy

: Yeah that’s great

Can you find out who it’s gonna be with?

Mark

: I’ll work on it

Jeremy smiled at the reply and was content with this choice

Something about this decision just felt right

_____________

Thank you so much for reading

Lemme know if you would like a part 2

[localplaguenurse]

Thinking about archon wifey SCREAMING CRYING KICKING MY LEGS IN THE AIR

Thinking about how they sort of shapeshift when they’re angry, like rn they’re just this short pretty hooman. But when they’re pissed? When they’re angry angry? And not just “I’m disappointed but not surprised” angry? Well let’s just say their origins as an elemental adepti that brings plague and decay with every step isn’t a joke.

Their hair become vines and not the musty kind, the kind that has pretty poison flowers, the kind that doesn’t exist in any books about Herbology because it doesn’t grow naturally. The pretty short hooman starts dipping into the uncanny valley, their limbs not being proportionally correct, arms too long neck too straight, and oh gods their eyes

Anyways chill I’m so normal about Eldritch gods being Eldritch

Your timing is impeccable and terrible because I'm trying so hard to focus on Zandick fic rn. And now I'm thinking about eldritch monsters and archon wifey's appearance.

Okay lemme just describe my idea for wifey's design.

So I think we've all decided that instead of a dragon, wifey would be a phoenix. Now that's cool, but if we're going with the idea of wifey being a dendro archon, how do we make the phoenix angle work? It's a bird made of flames.

This is Sphagnum Moss, otherwise known as peat moss, bog moss, or quacker moss depending on the like 380 variations and species of this moss you look at. They often sell it dried up to use for gardening because it's super rich in nutrients or you can use it in arts and crafts.

This is the moss when it's ready to reproduce. Those are little spore capsules.

It literally explodes with spores.

While we're here also...

This is a golden plover, and this...

This is what the babies look like.

Imagine wifey with soft, moss and flower petal patterned feathers. Imagine them being this giant, fluffy bird when they're in their adeptus form. Imagine how floofy the babies are.

Imagine them walking across the battlefield, stalks and stems popping up and out of their skin as the air around them fills up with spores. Imagine their enemies wheezing, coughing, suffocating as stalks begin to grow out of their bodies, spreading the spores further.

You want eldritch horror? I give you The Last of Us but with moss.

That could also be a way they utilize their incense burner. You either get a pleasant floral aroma or your body is going to be the next bog to harvest peat moss from.

[scrumpylikesthings]

As the beta reader period for Meat Cute comes to a close and the month turns over, my dork ass decided I wanted to make a progress bar infographic for the stuff I'm working on, because that kind of shit makes me happy.

I got these percentages from the gantt chart I use to track my progress, bc ofc I use a gantt chart.

Meat Cute is coming out of the beta reads with plenty of edits for me to make (and I am so incredibly grateful to everyone who chose to beta read I have been non stop crying bc thats just how I roll baybeeee).

And while it is nearing the finish line, the beta reads have made me reassess how I want to publish. I'm thinking now I'll do more of a rapid release, pushing out these babies every few months or so, and getting 3 or 4 books out a year. That is. . . intense. For me. I kind of want to have those 3 or 4 books at 100% before I publish the first in the release. But it also means that I'm probably not hitting that goal of publishing Meat Cute in 2024 :\ We'll see though.

Book 2 of the Weird Series, Jersey Boys, JUST finished second edits. I'm letting that take a breather for the next couple of weeks before I go in for another round.

Both books 3 and 4, Hot Moss and another one with the working title Biggie (lol guess who) have finished first drafts, both having been pumped out in nanowrimo (rest in piss) in 2022 and 2023 respectively. I'm going to focus more on Hot Moss in an attempt to streamline that rapid release.

Book 5, not seen here, is currently in the outline phase and lemme tell you lads, its going to be real real gay.

In other news, I'm working on a different book entirely. Its a horror comedy about a misanthropic urban explorer who gets their ass stuck in a haunted hotel. At the moment I'm plucking away at the first draft (and really feeling how I've become more of a pantser in my old age). This one is stand alone, going to be longer than the books in the Weird Series, and I'm aiming to get this one traditionally published.

So yeah. Thats what happened in May :V

Look at my word count blankie!

Each row is the amount of words I wrote each day. The lighter and brighter, the more words I wrote. I wrote a little more than 35K in May with a few 3K+ days in there.

[arcane-map]

If you want to know why this tumblr is called map of arcane eggs, it’s because there are four arcane eggs in the game and I pretend each arcane egg is for a rpieav vessel

(The one with Seer is Hollow’s. The one in the lifeblood chamber is Lost’s. Moss’s is near the shade cloak, and Ghost, lost theirs the earliest near the egg they hatched from.)

No, it makes no sense since they are information storage for void civilization long gone. But I had a weird plot point where they actually were each born holding an arcane egg, like a Chinese dragon with their dragon pearl.

Since the wiki says the egg has a will, the egg is where they store their will. Like a simple version of the voidheart. And to really become alive, the vessel has to absorb the “will” from the egg. (And vessels born without an arcane egg, without a will, would just. dissolve back into void.)

It didn’t really do anything for the rpieav au other than show that the Deepnest vessels also have fully formed wills and were alive out there somewhere. And a crack snippet of the vessels being weirded out by Lemm raving about arcane eggs (since in human terms, it’s like, preserved placenta to them).

…anyway that’s why I have a weird tumblr name and I’m too lazy to change it

[hollownavy]

Hello undertale AU people, meet my oc sans from Hidden-Tale, Moss! (He got that nickname from frisk and he can't say no lol)

So, my AU, Hidden tale, still takes in mount ebott and frisk still fell down the hole. However, the underground place looks like it's been abandoned for a long time. Nobody was there, no toriel, no sans to greet, and the place we first go through is out grown with Moss, veins and random plants. And everything is empty. Frisk need to put some efforts to go through those veinsveins. But along the way while clearing the hall, Frisk feel odd. Like someone is watching her from afar. Frisk don't know who and where, it's giving them chills.

I'll make more of the detailed story later. Tbh, Rather than an other version of undertale, it's more like a whole different story. A story where Frisk relieves the past and brings memories back to those who lost them.

But for now, lemme give you some fun facts about Moss and Frisk! !

- Sans jacket has become a moss house so frisk gave him their jacket because Sans said he can't live without a jacket.

- Moss!Sans is around 5 ft!

- Frisk in this AU is the same height as Moss!sans and is around 10-13 (because I can't imagine a 9 year old killing someone)

- Sans skull broke because of magic and some actual Moss decide it's a good place to rest.

- Frisk like fire for some unknown reason. They just do.

- Frisk gender is undecided! And never will be. (Soo, Frisk uses They/Them!)

- Moss! Sans magic is weaker than he used to have.

- Frisk can write but they're in strict learning on writing with left hand

random discussion between Frisk & Moss! Sans about that:

F: "Just in case I lost my right arm, I still can write with my left."

M!S: "What if you lost both of your arm?"

F: "I'll use my feet."

M!S: "and if you can't?"

F: "I'll use my mouth. I'll learn how to do that next."

M!S: "And... If you can't..?"

F: "...... That's scary but-"

Stare

M!S: "..?"

M!S: "you'll use telepathy?"

F: "yes."

M!S: "and if you ca-"

F: - "You know I will use telepathy even though I didn't say anything." *smirk*

M!S: *speechless*

F: *What? Cat got your tongue? Ha. I win.*

M!S: *HOW*

[one-night-story]

and it’s coming through like static on the phone (Jake Oettinger)

a/n: oh hi, i am not becoming a permanent hockey fic blog, it’s just a coincidence. This is for @jxmieoleksiaks by way of @antoineroussel ‘s summer fic exchange! I’m so sorry this took so fucking long and also not what i originally implied. But this came to me and i couldn’t put it away. I hope you enjoy!!

I didn’t like bars at the best of times.

Even on their quiet days, their tables were pushed too close together making it hard to move around if you weren’t a beanpole and while they made for great places to people watch, the feeling of the reverse was happening was something I couldn’t always shake, especially when I was sitting at the bar proper and my back was to the door.

But when my friend Ashley insisted I had to come out tonight to help her get over her most recent breakup, I was all but contractually obligated to go out. That best friend code can really be a bitch sometimes.

The three of us: Ashley, Katie, and I had been through so much even in the eighteen months we’d known each other. Well, at least for Ashley and I. Katie and I had known each other since college, moving to Dallas together when she got a lucrative job in public relations, she met Ashley on the job and since then they’d been my closest friends as I kept working at edits on my manuscript that had quickly devoured my life. Mostly because one of them was responsible for making sure I ate at regular hours and the other was in charge of making sure I left the house once and a while to get some sunlight and “didn’t become a moss that was previously unknown to science growing at my desk” on weekends. I was thankful for Katie for not minding the fact that I was working minimum wage jobs while I tried to get this into a state to start shopping around to agents.

Which meant I was nine times out of ten the Designated Driver due to a lack of disposable income for bar hopping nights. Which unfortunately included tonight, when all I wanted to do was do another pass on the romantic subplot I was trying and mildly failing to integrate. Not that I didn’t know how, it was just… not starting any way that made sense to my characters. Not unusual in my process, but it meant sitting on it for a bit.

Being the DD meant staying sober and that meant listening to Ashley’s drunken rambling about the latest fling that she was hoping would turn into something real, even though the one time she’d introduced her to the group, he was kinda… mediocre to put it politely.

“And I don’t know… I just thought he’d at least be a little different, right?” She said.

“Ash, c’mon, he’s a guy,” Katie said through a slight slur. Katie was… a bit of a lightweight, and I was just thankful they didn’t have work in the morning so I didn’t have to deal with the complaints about a hangover. “They’re never different,”

“Except when they are!!” Ashley exclaimed, pouting in the process. I took a sip of my drink as I watched them launch into another debate, which could take a while, scanning the bar in the process. In the far corner was a bundle of guys having about as lively a conversation about something just as dramatic if the limb flailing was any sign. Though, sitting on the edge was a guy who seemed to be having the same problem I was, zoning out and scanning the bar.

He was cute, in that sort of way you might call a puppy cute? Scruffy hair, at least a couple inches taller than at least a handful of his friends, but seemingly sweet. He caught my eye and raised his beer to me, which got a wave from me.

“Wait, who are you waving at?” Ashley cut into my brain space, dragging me away from looking at the guy across the bar.

“Shit is she? Lemme see,” Katie said, practically trying to crawl over me.

“Would you calm down, it’s nothing,” I said, struggling to push her back into her seat.

“You were waving at someone! Who is it? Are they cute? Do they have friends?” Ashley said as she did a more aggressive scan of the bar.

“Do you really need a rebound that soon?” I asked.

“No… but anyone catching your eye is bound to have cute friends.”

“I think I’m gonna take that as a compliment,”

“There, there!” Katie said, pointing to the gaggle of boys on the far side. In spite of all the noise my table was making, the boys seemed to be making more and by a miracle, hadn’t noticed my friends’ open gawking. Ashley whipped her head from interrogating me to seeing where Katie was pointing.

“Oh they are cute,” Ashley said.

“Would you two shut up?” I hissed trying to distract them. “You’re making us look desperate. For all we know they’re younger than us and we’re cradle robbing.”

“No way, all of them have a beer in front of them,” Ashley said.

“Okay, but you’re still making us look desperate,”

“Oh so men can openly stare at us like it’s nothing, but when we do it it’s desperate.” Katie argued, seeming to sober up in case we had to make an impression.

“She’s got a point,” Ashley said as she turned back to me, “C’mon, when’s the last time you went on a date.”

“Um…” Embarrassing questions lead to embarrassing answers. That answer being never. Not that I haven’t tried? Okay no, college was a nightmare of just trying to remember how to make friends, jeopardizing any of those relationships with actual, proper dating was the reason I only speak to two of the friends I met in my first year. Not to mention I was stuck in a high school where everyone had known each other for years so by senior year we had violent grudges against half of our class. So yeah, maybe I’m lacking a little in the romance department.

“Shit,” Fuck I hadn’t said anything fast enough and now Ashley was getting close. “You’ve never been on a date?”

“I thought you were dating that theatre major, the blonde one.” Katie cut in.

“We were in a Dungeons and Dragons party together, he didn’t like me walking across campus at night alone.” I said throwing my hands up in defense.

“And you’re sure that wasn’t just a ploy?” Ashley asked.

“What part of “We were playing Dungeons and Dragons” together did you not catch?” I asked with a deadpan expression.

“Well now you have to go over,” Ashley said.

“What, no I don’t, that’s—“

“Nope, you gotta, it’s required,” Katie cut in, pushing me out of my seat.

“What the fuck—“

“Just be yourself!” Ashley said.

“Be myself? I’m garbage!”

“HEY! Nobody talks about my best friend that way!” Katie cut in, giving me one final shove out of my chair forcing me to stand. “Go get ‘em tiger,” she added with a wink. I rolled my eyes and stood up a little bit so it looked like I had actually intended to get up. I shot a glare at the table before sighing and settling on going towards the bar like that was my ultimate goal. Maybe I’d get lucky and gain some nerve between the table and there, maybe my friends would realize they were fucking stupid and would come over and apologize for getting me into this mess, or maybe just maybe a portal into another dimension would open up and swallow me whole and take me to a dimension where I’m in the middle of a romance harem arc already.

… Actually that wasn’t half bad, I might need to write that one.

I made it to the bar with only a mild struggle of trying to not knock into people. I quietly waited for one of the bartenders to come over and pretend to acknowledge my presence when I decided to scan the bar again. The bundle of guys was still there, though it was missing the one I saw earlier, and I tried to not let some amount of disappointment crawl into my bones.

Despite of my lack of experience, or maybe because of it, I was still trying to hold out a little hope that some rom com worthy moment would happen and I would get swept up off my feet, in spite of the fact that I A) know that the real world doesn’t work like that and more importantly B) Romcoms don’t happen for people like me. It just means that suffering in crowded bars being a DD was just a way to people watch and maybe figure out how to get better at writing bars.

“So, are your friends always that rowdy?” Someone asked next to me and I turned around. There was the guy from before with a sheepish smile and radiating the sort of nervousness that I felt at the best of times, and I was right about him being taller, even sitting on a bar stool, he towered over me in a way that I surprisingly didn’t find intimidating. I laughed a little at his comment before shrugging.

“If I said no that would technically be lying,” I said. He laughed a little at that, which I counted as a definite win. “Cut them some slack, we’re performing post breakup therapy,” I added, as if I had to defend myself.

“I don’t know whether or not to be hopeful if it was yours.” He said.

“It wasn’t but I was already single.” And there I go saying something stupid. He smiled a little wider at that.

“Then I’m sorry for your friend, but I’m glad to hear it wasn’t for you, and that you're single.” He said. “I’m Jake, and my rowdy friends would not shut up until I came over and told you that I think you’re really pretty.” He said, offering his hand. I smiled and let a small chuckle escape me.

I offered up my name and shook his hand. “And my rowdy friends literally pushed me out of my chair in the hopes that I would talk to you. Gotta say, I’m really happy you approached me first, I so did not want to face down your table.” Least of which was because of the flashbacks to high school that I never wanted to live through ever again so long as I was above ground.

“Ah, they’re not so bad, just… loud.” Jake said and I briefly peaked over his shoulder where some of them pretended to not be looking at me while the others chatted amongst themselves.

“Right, and my friends are only sort of spying on this whole conversation.” I said, knowing full well that Katie and Ashley were staring daggers into my back. Jake risked peeking over my shoulder and chuckled when he looked back at me.

“Okay, fair enough,” he said. I went silent for a second as I struggled to figure out what to ask or say, we’d gotten this far and honestly, that was impressive for me at the very least. Do I ask for his number? Ask him for a drink? Coffee? Marriage? Okay, even I know that last one was pushing it but still! I sighed slightly and figured I’d go for… vague honesty? Vague honesty worked.

“Okay, I honestly have… a subpar education in the “chatting to cute strangers at bars” thing that most people seemed to have sort of learned by this point, so…”

“Oh thank god it’s not just me,” he said and I laughed as we both seemingly exhaled from that. “Honestly that was 70% of the reason I was nervous to come talk to you, that and your one friend looks like she could tear my head off.”

“Yeah, Ashley is really dedicated to arm day,” I joked knowing that both of my friends were ferocious the same way that a chihuahua was ferocious.

“I can tell,” he said but he quickly shook his head, “but I uh… I was wondering if I could get your number and we could do… coffee? That’s what people usually do right?”

“Yeah Jake, that’s usually what people do,” I said still grinning ear to ear, “pass me your phone,” he did and I quickly added my number to his contacts. “And I’d love to do coffee.”

“Awesome,” he said, smiling so wide I’m pretty positive my face hurt just looking at it. “That went way better than I expected.”

“Oh same, honestly,” I said.

“So… I’ll text ya?”

“Yeah, nice meeting you Jake,”

“You too,” he said and I watched as he went back to his table and was greeted with absolutely delighted cheers. I couldn’t help but giggle a little at the exchange as I went back to my own table.

“Did you get anything?” Ashley asked.

“I gave him my number,” I said.

“HELL YEAH!!!” Katie yelled, throwing her hands in the air. I felt my phone vibrate.

I guess that it went over well

Oh shit, it’s jake

I laughed a little.

Yeah i know.

So… coffee?

[cutest-silly-nb]

I like the idea that what Ralsei is for Kris's PHYSICAL health, Kris is for Ralsei's mental health.

Because Kris is an absolute goblin child who eats moss but

Because Ralsei spent the majority of his whole life alone in a massive, almost-definitely-haunted castle in a desolate wasteland, subsisting off of the bare minimum of social interaction to stay ALIVE via the occasional traveler passing through, and studying things like health and healing magic to keep himself occupied, mentally active, and, most importantly, SANE. so it would make sense that he knows how to keep somebody physically healthy, but has some rather intense psychological issues under the surface.

Meanwhile Kris is an absolute goblin child who eats moss but has faced some inner demons of their own and came out mostly on top, and thus has knowledge of keeping yourself mental healthy from personal experience.

So oftentimes Ralsei will have to tell Kris:

“Good god please stop eating random patches of Moss the moment you see it. At the very LEAST inspect the patch to make sure it’s a species of moss that’s even edible in the first place, PLEASE? You’ll get extremely sick if you keep doing this and I care far too much about you to let that happen.”

But just as often, Kris will have to tell Ralsei:

“The pool of cold sweat you woke up in after the nightmare you had last night was deep enough to be measured with a RULER and you’ve barely eaten anything in the last day. You are definitely Not Fine. PLEASE tell us whenever you’re not feeling okay, I will always be there to help”

And whenever Kris becomes incredibly sick, or Ralsei’s optimism begins to break and he can’t find the strength to get up in the morning, the other is always right by their side, ready to help and care for them.

It’s a neat and wholesome little dynamic they could have

This is the first serious ask I have EVER recieved and it’s a goddamn English essay so lemme dissect this. First, I’d just like to say this doesn’t really fit with my quirky and, for lack of a better reference, lolFoundation-ish Deltarune world, but it works enough for me to answer this in a way I hope you’ll like.

Ok SO. Ralsei would definitely wake up from a nightmare in a pool of cold sweat as wide as Noelle’s blush whenever Susie is within 2 feet which is saying something. And Kris would definitely pick up on it rather quickly. Personally I don’t think Kris is at the level of “mentally okay” to actually give Ralsei legit psychological help and they know that, BUT they care enough about their fluffy boi that the power of love heals in a way that nothing really matches if you catch my drift. As for loneliness…

* (You wake up.)

* (Blue light wafts in from the windows. The smell of dust tickles your nose as you get out of bed. You close your eyes and brush your fur.)

* (…)

* (There’s no-one here.)

* (You head to the library.)

* (As if by instinct, your feet carry you to a room with an old, worn book. Your scarf blows in the draft and you adjust your hat so you can see it better.)

* (It has a sepia cover, with six white words emblazoned on it.)

* THE LEGEND OF THE DELTA RUNE

* (Just like you’ve done every day since you manifested, you open it up. Instinctively, you read it out loud in your best storyteller voice. You hope the Heroes will like the Legend.)

* Once upon a time, a LEGEND was whispered among shadows…

The kind of nightmares Ralsei would have would just be waking up and having that life again. A lonely life, with no-one to talk to and an empty town mocking the prince without subjects. His worst nightmare would be waking up, and finding out that Kris and Susie are gone, and maybe they were just a dream, another fantasy he had about the Heroes he was created to help. It would be a horrifying and sad existence. Ralsei tries to suppress those memories, but they do come back to bite him.

But of course, like you said… Kris gets those feelings, they’re no stranger to having to conquer their own demons. And when Kris notices Ralsei being extra clingy, or his optimism fading, Kris will always be there for Ralsei, and they’ll just sit down in bed and play some Earthbound or something. They’re currently finishing Happy Happy Village (more on TFGPEB as it develops.). As for Kris, they’re enough of a gremlin that their psychological problems are just weird af and no one is quite sure what’s up with them. However, predictably, they will get sick a lot, physically and emotionally. It’s not uncommon for Kris to go to the DW and just end up fuckin… slicing up their pillow or something. That or they’re bedridden with a fever they got from eating a spider. Ralsei is there then, too. If Kris is feeling depressed, Ralsei cheers them up with the smell of a warm cake, or if Kris is fuckin’ furious at the world for whatever reason, they’ll usually end up with cupcake frosting all over their face and laughing their ass off. Also, yeah, like you said (sorry for this fucking shaggy dog essay), their physical health can be a problem. Ralsei jokes about keeping spellbooks of healing magic in Kris’s room for times when they catch, like, cholera from snacking on the walls of Top Bakery. (R: Kris. It’s a fucking building. K: but it looked like a cake! R: that’s not how food works. K: but it should beeeeeeee!)

Conclusion: everything you just said is correct. Also they love each other it is very wholesome and cute blah blah blah.

Tl;dr: Fluffy boi wants friends and human enby has issues. They love each other tho so it’s all fine.

[katsumiiii]

Drunk In Love

roronoa zoro x fem! poc reader

genre: fluff

warnings: consumption of alcohol

description: the strawhat crew stops on a nearby island for supplies. zoro takes a trip to the local pub only to have some interesting company join him.

It’s safe to say that Roronoa Zoro was lost. While this was not a rather surprising statement, it does get tiring to hear that the swordsman hasn’t picked up on his sense of direction since entering the New World. Again and again, every twist and turn looked similar to him, causing him to wander further and further from his desired destination. That destination of course being a pub.

The male couldn’t go too long without having at least a sip of alcohol, his mouth craving the flavor after a good while. He cursed as he traveled down another unfamiliar path, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he dragged his feet along the dirt ground.

Maybe he should’ve listened when Nami said to take someone with him. Nevermind, he would have had to take that curly browed idiot with him, and he’d rather not argue the whole way to the pub.

Zoro scanned his surrounds once more, seems as though those twists and turns led him back into the town, where the pub was apparently located. He let out a sigh of relief, tired of wondering around the dense forests, especially since all of the trees were so similar looking.

He trotted along, dirt kicking out in front of him as a result. Many different sounds flooded his ears, whether it were children whining for the cherry tarts that were on sale to the left of him — they were supposedly the best in town — or the slight ringing of laughter coming from the restaurants to his right, he reckoned that’s where Luffy was trying to go, the smell of meat too tempting for him to ignore.

About half way through the town square, Zoro encountered the very place he’d been searching for. With a snarky grin on his face he hurriedly pushed open the doors, the smell of booze greeting him ever so kindly. Walking a few feet up from the entrance way, he plopped on to a tall wooden stool, slamming his hands on the oak countertop in order to catch the bartenders attention.

“Lemme get a beer.” He bluntly demanded, obsidian irises staring boringly into the man behind the counters backside, watching as he turned around with a tight lipped smile on his face.

“Sure, coming right up!” The chubby male worked swiftly, and right as Zoro gave a long loud yawn a pint of beer was slammed on to the table, causing him to smile excitedly.

“Thanks.”

“No problem sir! Tell me if you need anything else!” He stated as he hurried off to handle another customer.

Zoro raised the mug to his chapped lips, taking large gulps as he drank the liquid. It left a satisfying burn as it traveled down the pathway of his throat, soon settling in his stomach along with whatever else was down there. He let out a sigh of relief and a belch, which caused quite a few heads to turn towards the noise.

“Oh shit, that’s Roronoa Zoro!”

“What’s he doing here alone?”

“If he’s here then that means Strawhat is most likely near by.”

The whispers grew louder as men and woman alike began to worriedly question the young males motives, discreetly scooting further and further away from him. Zoro huffed closing his only good eye, all he wanted was a peaceful drink at the bar, was that too much to ask for? Guess that’s what he gets for being a pirate.

“You looking for company?” A voice asked, the groan of wood rubbing against wood following soon after, causing Zoro to assume that they pulled out the chair beside him. He grunted, eye still not opening as his left hand gripped the handle of his mug.

“No, go away.” He replied, taking another gulp of his liquor.

“Aww don’t be like that, I promise I’m an interesting gal.”

Zoro opened his eye in annoyance, gaze traveling to your figure. “I said go away you damned wom-” he cut off suddenly, voice caught in the back of his throat as he stared at the sight in front of him.

You were beautiful, your hair was braided into a style he’d never quite seen before, but it was unique and eye catching. Your browned skin all but glowed as there was a window right behind your figure, the sun illuminating your very being. Your nails were thumping against the dull oak countertop in front of you as you softly bit your plump lip, your pearly whites slightly poking out. “You alright there mister?”

His body jolted causing a cough to rile up from the sudden movement. “Oh my god are you okay?” You asked again, this time worriedly. Your voice was damn near angelic, the sound of it bringing heat to his cheeks as he slammed his fist on to his chest to stop his wheezing.

“Y-yeah I’m fine.”

“You sure? Had a bit of a cough there.” Your eyes seemed like they were staring into his very soul as you laid a hand on his chiseled backside, rubbing light circles upon it.

“I’m fine! I can handle a little cough.” He roughly shook your hand off of his back, face becoming more crimson by the minute.

“Hm, I can see that big guy.” You chuckled, gesturing the bartender over. “Hi, may I have some booze please? I’ve been craving some for the longest!”

The male nodded, cheeks turning pink at the slight groan you let out. “Y-yes ma’am, I’ll get right to it!”

“Thank you love!”

“Oi!” Zoro quickly called out, watching as the bar man rolled his eyes before sending him a full smile and a slight nod. “I need more booze.”

“Coming right away sir.” The man grumbled, reaching upwards to retrieve two mugs.

“You seemed to have irritated the man a bit.” You quipped, letting out a small thank you as the very man you mentioned handed you your drink.

“Not my fault he hates his job.” Zoro replied back, muttering out a thank you as well as his drink was set in front of him.

“I don’t think it’s the job he hates.” You smirked, licking your lips of the residue booze.

“Yeah whatever.”

Silence overtook the both of you as you indulged in your liquor, you yourself starting to feel a slight buzz around your fifth mug. “You still drinking?” You questioned, glancing over at the green haired male beside you.

He shot you a quick look, cheeks red from what you assumed was caused from his alcohol intake. “Yeah, surprised you can keep up with me, you damned woman.”

You scoffed, leaning closer to his flushed face, the red of his cheeks increasing with the closing distance. “Oh please, I could out drink your ass in an instant.” You announced cockily, nose scrunching at the smell of alcohol coming from his breath.

He cackled at the sentence, body shaking from complete and utter shock at what he believed to be an incorrect statement, though he guessed he’d have to find out. “Oh really? Is that a challenge?”

“You bet it is moss head.”

“Oh it’s on.”

Drink after drink, you two continued to down as many mugs as you could, the burn intensifying with each gulp. You took a sharp breath as you hastily drank another one, hearing cheers from the spectators, bets circulating on which person would win the battle. After about 56 mugs, Zoro lightly tapped chipped oak countertop, causing you to whoop in victory, screams erupting from the onlookers.

“Ha! Told you I would win!”

Zoro giggled, pushing his body from the wooden stool. “Damn, never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m surprised my damn self, you can drink your ass off.” You smiled, flipping your intricately braided hair off of your shoulder.

“Well, it was nice drinking with ya.” The male declared as he trotted out of the bar, sending a small wave your way.

“Wait! You can’t just leave!” You rushed after him, hands clammy and mouth dry as you forced your legs to work properly enough to be able to run after the male. Though Zoro did hear your outburst, he decided to continue walking, once again kicking up dust as he wandered about. Your footsteps grew heavier, the affects of the alcohol you drank just now washing over you. You began to walk sluggishly, soon tripping, sending your body tumbling into Zoro’s.

“H-hey! What the hell?!” He firmly grabbed your plush waist, unintentionally pulling you flush against his toned body.

His cheeks heated up once again as his eyes settled along your face, your eyes glazed over, bottom lip slightly red, most likely irritated from the amount of times your teeth have harshly dug into them. “You...you alright?” His fingers traced pathways along your skin, trailing lines and circles as you both continued to stare at one another.

Soon you leaned forward, capturing your lips with his, the taste of alcohol dancing along your tongues. Heat trailed throughout your body, hands settling on top of his as you continued to embrace one another. The kiss was hot and messy, teeth clashing more than once, though neither of you minded, you simply continued to take in every single bit of each other.

You eventually pulled apart, both of you heaving from the intensity of it all. You both stared at each other’s slightly dulled irises, gazing upon the possibilities of this new relationship, or whatever you’d like to call it.

“Y/N”

“Mhm?” Zoro cocked his head sideways, rubble rubbing against the back of his scalp from the movement.

“My name, it’s Y/N.” You repeated, ruffling the males hair to shake off the excess debris.

Zoro hummed in response, cheeks flushing for what seemed to be the thousandth time today. “My names Zoro.”

notes: idk wtf is going awn in this fic lmfao 💀

taglist: @izvana @myhoodacademia @mypimpademia @0risha @blackweebtrash @katsumox @kazuluvr @yuujisbby @manjiiroll @asaincy @namjoonswifeyy @angiebug101 @amethyst09 @sisifromthed @lilsparkyswife @morosis-haze @solar3lunar @lightofcordonia

[justmossyall]

lemme just talk about autumn for a second. autumn is the ultimate goblincore season and here's why:

(oh and before I start, I am quite passionate about this topic so this will be a long list. strap yourself in.)

SWEATER WEATHER. sweaters. sweaters are tied for the title of the most goblin piece of clothing with overalls and fingerless gloves. they're so fricking comfy. and when you get them, like, one size up, you can flap the sleeves. perfection. *chef's kiss*

colorful leaves!!!!!!! walking through the forest is wonderful enough during spring and summer, but in the fall, the trees evolve into Flareon and get all red and orange and YELLOW and brown and what's that? oh yeah, they become s u p r e m e l y c r u n c h y

soup time

warm beverages are a big yes during fall! tea? hit me up. hot coffee? you know it. hot chocolate? yes yes yes pass the marshmallows homie

blanketssssssssss. it's finally cold enough that you can pile under eight blankets and watch youtube and be a happy lil goblin >:D

MOSS GROWS BEST IN AUTUMN. LOOK IT UP.

I know I already talked about the weather a bit, but one more plus: it's neither searingly hot nor freezing cold, but in fact, it is the perfect weather, which means you can go explore nature and not be uncomfortable :D

candles!!! in my opinion, candles are the most ✨aesthetic✨ during autumn for some reason.

the overall atmosphere of autumn is just so cozy and loving. goblincore is (also in my opinion) one of the most welcoming and diverse aesthetics, and autumn just really feels goblincoreish. something about the warmth and beauty and coziness just resonates with my happy goblin heart :)

And now for the biggest one: HALLOWEEN. if this isn't the most goblin holiday, I don't know what is. you can dress up as whatever you want (or not at all), and you go around getting free candy from strangers? come on, yall. this needs to be a more common thing. I can't wait a whole year. gravity falls was onto something with the whole Summerween thing.

thank you for coming to my TED Talk. now if you'll excuse me, I have to go appreciate some moss.

(oh also it's my birthday in case anyone cares lmao)

[multiplefandomsblog]

“Offer”

request; Can I get an imagine with Kokichi with an artist S/O who wants to paint him but he keeps flustering them with suggestions of a nude painting of him?

warnings; kind of suggestive, mention of nudity, cussing, mutual pining i think, i made it kinda crack fic, reader has an ultimate talent(artist), not edited too well, ended it weird like always, kissing, lowkey making out tho- 

note; wow i wrote way too much- but hey, i still hope you enjoy this!

word count; 1.9k+

You walked around the school, looking for Kokichi to ask him to be your model.

Although you have sketched Kokichi several times before, you felt you needed to ask him face-to-face so he could just stay still in his goddamn chair instead of changing positions every 5 seconds and ruining your half-done sketch. And so, you went off to go find the boy, finding it surprisingly hard to catch him. 

“There you are! I was looking for you-” You puffed out a sigh of relief, clutching your art supplies close to you as you saw your purple-haired classmate. Not a second after he caught sight of your figure jogging towards him, he had started taunting you. 

“Oooooh, hey S/o, you seem mighty happy to see me, hm? I wonder why that is…” He took a funny-looking step towards you, voice laced with an interrogating tone.

He had that strange smirk on his face, and not the one you liked. N-not that you liked his smile! In consequence of staring at him and sketching him constantly without his knowledge—or so you thought—, you have become almost a master of reading his mood and expressions. 

“Don’t get any wrong ideas, I just wanted to ask you if I could paint you.” For a small moment you swore you could see his expression twist into one of shock, before quickly melting back into his shit-eating grin. “Well of course you would! I’m the ultimate supreme leader, after all.” He acted as if he wasn’t just gob-smacked a second ago.

You beamed up at him, you had been in a small art block for a while and the moment you saw Kokichi, you knew he would be the cure to it. And so, you were ecstatic when he said what he said, “So you’ll do it?” You jumped a little too high, and spoke a little too eagerly.

“Mhm! —but with a catch, of course.” Your face dropped, you should’ve known the little fucker would try and get something out of you. “Nishishi!”

Unsure if you even wanted to know, you asked carefully, “W-what’s the catch..?” Your voice laced with caution, brain suddenly being reminded of all the pranks and blackmail he had fucked everyone else over with in the past. Knowing him, it could vary from, ‘Eat a bug.’ to, ‘Survive a knife game against me!’ 

But what he said was definitely worse than the former, and the latter. 

“You have to paint me fully-nude.”

… It was suddenly very quiet, the echo of his insane remark, bouncing off the walls. The silence mostly coming from your side—then again, what did you expect? Painting Kokichi would mean the end of your art block and a painting of Kokichi, like, c’mon, but painting Kokichi nude would mean- Well, you weren’t sure what it meant; hence, the silence.

Impatient and somewhat annoyed by the silence, he poked at your shoulder, “So? Are you gonna paint me naked or not?” You stared at your shoes, too afraid to make eye contact with the boy you were now thinking of... naked. 

“... C-can’t I just paint you normally?” He pouted, a comedically high whine erupting from his throat as he replied, “But that’s no fuuuuuun!” 

“Don’t you want to see your ultimate supreme leader, whipping out his wang?-” You shoved his face away from your warm one, “Y… I mean n-no, no!” Your tone weak before getting loud and defensive as you caught yourself before all hell broke loose. 

You felt your stomach drop as you thought about the possibility of Kokichi knowing you wanted to see him, and I quote, ‘Whipping out his wang’, Kokichi would never let that one go. 

“Aw man, well I guess you don’t wanna paint me theeeen.” He slowly stepped away, a pout on his face as his back faced towards you. He hummed circus music as he teetered on his feet, balancing on one foot at once as he ‘walked’ away from you agonizingly slow, obviously waiting for you to tell him to come back. 

“Koki-” In a flash, Kokichi had been by your side, dragging your hand to god knows where. “You have me convinced! I’ll let you paint me because I’m suuuuuch a nice guy. Nishishi!” Although you should’ve asked where the both of you were going, you felt knowing the catch was more important, “B-but what’s the catch?” 

Kokichi kept at his speedy pace, yet he answered with a voice that still had so much energy in it, “Aww, I’m hurt you think there’s a catch, do you not trust me that much?”

Silence.

“Meanie... but yeah, you were right to suspect me. The catch is.... “ He drum-rolled on your palm, “You just have to kiss me for payment!” He slowed down a bit to send a cheeky smile your way. You almost tripped on your feet as you heard him, “What!? Bu-” 

Kokichi quickly interrupted you, “Uh-uh, don’t try to pretend you don’t wanna. I know you have nooooo problem kissing those little sketches of me when you think no one is looking~” His voice quieted down sinisterly as he spoke, the evil smile spreading across his face once more. Although he had been wearing an extremely thick mask of a smile to hide his true feelings, anyone would’ve noticed that small blush on his upper right cheek. Anyone.

“You saw that?” Kokichi cackled at your agitated and flustered face, “Nishishi! Don’t worry, I’m the only one that knows. After all, no one finds you interesting enough to actually notice that.” You furrowed your brow at the subtle hint he had given you, “But you did-” 

Kokichi put on a teasing smile this time, “That was a lie! I didn’t see anything with my own eyes, I just assumed you have and so you helped me confirm it! Nice job on fucking yourself over, S/o! Nishishi~!” You rolled your eyes, you liked this guy?

Well anyways, it didn’t seem to matter whether you questioned your feelings for the liar, as you finally made it to where Kokichi had been dragging you to. You watched as Kokichi skipped away from you and hopped on the bench, surrounded by moss and other wild plants. 

“Ta-da! When I first saw this place, I immediately thought of you! You know, because you’re a nerd who likes cliché art settings.” He grinned, posing on top of the bench, “How’s this? Nishishi! Don’t answer that, I know this is perfect.”

 ... He looked like an idiot. But a cute idiot.

Suppressing a laugh, you gestured downwards to guide him down from his strange pose, “U-uh, maybe you could just, sit down? Like a normal person, I mean.” He sneered at you, before reluctantly sitting down, “You’re so boring.” The way he sat on the bench reminded you of a child who had just gotten denied candy. 

Smiling in relief, you quickly took a seat on the bench opposite to him, bringing out your supplies excitedly. Despite the pout on Kokichi’s face, and the grudge he wanted to keep, the way you so excitedly took out your canvas made his heart melt as well as his attitude. 

In the corner of your eye, you swore you could see Kokichi’s genuine smile, albeit it was lopsided but it still made you flush. Without thinking, you spoke, tilting your head upwards to look at him better, “You should smile more, you’re really pretty like that.” He… his mind blanked for a second, his façade fading away slightly to reveal a genuine expression of shock.

He quickly gained his composure back, “Um, okay? I always smile, are you blind?” Despite his passive-aggressive reply, you couldn’t find any reason to be mad, although you should’ve been. You smiled fondly and shook your head, diving back into concentration towards your canvas.

--

After an hour of pointless conversation, flirting, and calculated strokes of your brush, you were satisfied with the result. “... Alright, I’m done.” Kokichi sighed exasperatedly as he stood up and stretched, “Finally! I was afraid my limbs were going to freeze forever in that position.” You stared at him accusingly, “You didn’t even stay still the entire time. At one point, you did a fucking cartwheel-” 

Kokichi slid on over you, leaning over your seated figure to peak at the painting of him. “Lemme see!” He reached for the painting with his pale hands, causing you to jerk the painting away from his reach. “It’s not dry yet! Just look, don’t touch.” You scolded, unamused by his pouty expression. “You’re no fun S/o-chan, but okay. I know how much you like to be in charge~” He teased, before finally laying his eyes on the painting he stayed still one whole hour for. 

You felt your anxiety rise at his silence, “... Well, d-do you like it?” Although you were pretty confident in your ultimate talent and skills, for some odd reason, you felt extremely nervous when you showed it to Kokichi. 

You were confused as to why your hands were shaking, you’ve shown your artwork to galleries, museums, the harshest art critics in the world! So why the hell did it matter so much to you if this one boy liked it or not?

“I think it looks super handsome! And by it, I mean me. Nishishi!” He grinned, “I look good in everything after all.” You scoffed, you couldn’t believe you actually expected a genuine compliment from Kokichi, of all people. 

“Hey so, it’s time for your payment you know?” Payment... what? You looked up at him in confusion, big fat crocodile tears sprung out from his eyes, “Waaaah! I can’t believe S/o forgot our deal!” You flushed again as you were suddenly reminded of the kiss. 

You sighed tiredly, “You were serious?” He glared at you, “I’m always serious!” You gave him an accusing look that screamed, ‘You know that’s bullshit.’ But sighed defeatedly for what seemed like the umpteenth time. As you stood up to walk up to him, you set your painting down nearby.

Squirming underneath his expectant gaze, you leaned in torturously slow until your noses were nearly touching, your eyes were glued to his lips nervously. You kind of just… stood there, waiting. Waiting for him to take initiative, as he usually does. “... You know, You’re kissing me, right? Not the other way around.” His voice was lower, quieter than usual, and you could feel his breath within each word.

He smirked at your awkward shuffle towards him, finding your averting eyes and flushed face extremely endearing. Though Kokichi would never admit it, deep down he was nervous too- But of course, he refused to ever admit that reality. Even to himself. 

“I-I know that! I was just… preparing.” He hummed a skeptical ‘Okay’, standing patiently for the kiss you owed him. Letting out a shaky breath, you quickly pressed your lips on his, before immediately pulling away. Well, you tried pulling away. Kokichi gripped your collar, eagerly going in for more. His lips enveloped yours roughly, he could feel you trying to back away and so he just decided he had to go even harder. 

Once he pulled away, he saw your lips puffy and swollen, and face completely dazed. You wanted to ask him why he stopped but he interrupted you before you could, “You know, I never said you had to kiss my lips, pervert〜” Your eyes widened at his statement, “It seems you’ve been wanting this for a while, huh?” You didn’t say anything, only fuelling his fire. 

“Nishishi! You’re so obsessed with me, it’s adorable~” You took a defensive step back, “I-I am not!” He suddenly leaned his face dangerously close to yours, grinning sadistically as he heard your whimper. “You shouldn’t lie, you know? Especially not to me.” He leaned in next to your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth and biting gently. 

“Anyway!” You snapped out your daze as he barked suddenly, “The nude painting offer still stands, you know!” He yelled out, walking away from you, strangely.

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

for the one word prompt— butterflies

Title: through murky waters and twisted paths

Summary: Only fools with a death wish enter the Forgotten Forest. Everyone knows trickster spirits lived there that would love nothing more than to make a quick meal or gain amusement out of a human. Virgil knows all the stories–he’s told them to the village children himself. None of that matters to him any longer.

Pairings: platonic intruxiety

Word-Count: 1.5k

Warnings: G/T, morally grey Remus, fantasy racism, body horror, ostracization, self-hatred & deprecation, suicidal ideations, hunger, death mention, blood mention, non-graphic references to violence, angst with a happy ending

hi I spent way more research on this fic than intended. I also forgot about this for like two months, opps. pls enjoy :)

-

As the sun sinks low into its’ grave Virgil ventures deeper into the Forgotten Forest, where the trees grow as tall as giants and the moss grows thick. Spirits live in the forest. Trickster spirits, ones that view humans as nothing more than amusement or an easy meal. He’s heard all the stories, he’s told them to the village children himself. None of that matters now.

(First came the cravings. He devoured everything in sight–his stomach never satisfied. At night he’d clutch his stomach as it growled. Always growling, wanting more, more, more)

With each step, he fights against the fear building with each heartbeat. It is quiet in the woods. Too quiet. Where are the bustling of the squirrels and chirping of the birds? Have they been eaten? Will that be his fate as well? As if to answer him, the earth trembles beneath his feet. Virgil stumbles, grasping a tree trunk for support. A choked cry escapes his lips.

(Then, as quickly as the cravings came, they stopped. He had little time to ponder this as exhaustion seeped into his bones. Sleep, he needed sleep. He pulled a blanket over his head, enclosing himself into a husk of darkness.)

“Whoa! You okay, little fella?”

Virgil’s breath seizes. The voice. It’s big and booming like thunder during a fierce storm. Quivering, he tilts his head up, up, up to a figure as tall as the trees themselves. A figure with pale-green skin and dressed in earthy colors. A crown of leaves rests atop their head. A spirit–a giant to be exact.

Virgil tries screaming. All that comes out is a pitiful squeaky click of his teeth.

(He awoke thrashing, constrained in an impossibly tight space. His first immediate thought was that he’d been buried alive. He needed to break out of the coffin. Out, out, out! He scratched and clawed to no avail. Fluid oozed out of him–blood? It had to be blood.)

“Whoa! Aggressive, I like it! Hiya, my name’s Remus, what’s yours?” The giant crouches down, his movements shaking the forest floor. Virgil barely manages to keep a hold on the tree trunk.

“V-virgil.” He tells the giant. He really shouldn’t give his name away just like that. Everybody knows you don’t give spirits that type of power. But he can hardly bring himself to care. 

“Virgil? Ooh what a juicy name,” Remus smacks his lips, “You know I could totally squash you with one finger!”

“Do it.”

“What?” The giant blinks, mouth agape. 

“Did I stutter?” Virgil asks, jaw clenching, “Do it–kill me, put me out my misery. I’m a monstrosity–I shouldn’t exist anyways.”

(His coffin cracked open. Except dirt didn’t come pouring in–sunlight did. He clung to the edge of it and froze. Something was wrong. His breathing–he couldn’t breathe! At least not in the way he was most intimately familiar with. Oxygen seeped through passageways. Not his nose or mouth but elsewhere. He looked down at not one, but two pairs of hands. He screamed. His skin no longer a pale complexion but an unnatural shade of purple. A pair of hands frantically clutched his face. He felt two normal ears, two normal eyes and two long strands of…hair?)

The giant’s grin vanishes as anger seeps onto his very large face. Virgil shudders, his instincts urging him to flee. He can feel air rushing behind him, his feet leaving the forest ground. Nothing happens because the giant snatches him up faster than he can blink. 

(It wasn’t hair. It twitched out of its own volition, smelling his very sweaty palms. With a shriek, he leapt backwards as the spot between his shoulder blades burned. Two brightly-colored appendages flare out from the corner of his eye–surely something horrid like another set of arms. He kept scrambling backwards, as if he could run away from himself. He never stood a chance against that rock. His foot caught the edge of it and Virgil went tumbling down.)

“Hey! Who says you shouldn’t exist?” Remus demands, lips curling backwards to reveal sharp teeth. He holds Virgil in a grip much looser than he expects. It still doesn’t stop Virgil’s heart rate from accelerating.

“I–I do.”

 “Well, I’ll mash up their insides and feed it to the–wait, you do?” Remus blinks, “why?” 

(He woke up to voices. Angry voices. Voices that once familiar and warm now bent with vitriol and disgust. Voices of people he’d called friends and neighbors. Voices of people that called him a demon and a monster. Voices that welcomed him in, gave him food and a honest living. Voices that drove him out, casting charms and wards against him.)

“Just–just look at me!” Virgil says, swallowing nervously, “I’m a demon, I’ll–I’ll possess your soul if you don’t kill me.”

“A demon?” Remus asks, before bellowing with laughter, “I’ve seen plenty of demons before. Best friends with one, lemme tell ya. I know them when I see ‘em and you ain’t a demon.”

“Then…what do you think I am?” 

(He found himself on the edge of the Forgotten Woods. Forgotten because it was so ancient. Forgotten because it was best to forget about it. Long before he was born, spirits took hold of the forest. Killing or thralling any humans who dared enter their domain. But he wasn’t quite human now, was he?)

Remus doesn’t directly answer Virgil. He summons something with his other hand. An oval-shaped object, with wooden trim and vines growing around it. A mirror. One that looms enormous over Virgil, but scaled to the giant is a hand-mirror. Remus’ grip on Virgil releases, causing him to fall back onto the giant’s  palm. Virgil’s teeth click again as he stands on shaky legs. His eyes trail upwards, into the face of his reflection.

(Black horns. Glowing eyes. A long forked tongue. These were the details he could make out in the murky puddle he came across)

Black antennas poking out of plum-colored locks. Watery, lilac-tinged spotted eyes. A thin long curled tongue between fangs. Violet skin smooth and hardened. Four arms entangle together in a tight embrace. His shoulder blades twinges as slightly crumpled wings emerge from behind his back. Dark velvet wings reminiscent of butterflies.

“See!” Remus asks, almost bouncing in place, “You’re a bruise-colored nightmare of a changeling! Why shouldn’t you exist?”

“Changeling?” 

“Yeah changeling–” Remus’ eyes widen, “Ooohhh. You didn’t know, did ya? What was it like? The hunger, I mean? What weird shit did you eat to satiate it? Or the chrysalis! Did you retain any memory inside of it while you turned into a gooey liquid? I bet it was cool–”

“I can’t be a changeling,” Virgil interrupts, a hand gripping at his hair, “I wasn’t super smart, or–or sickly. I was–”

“–a child,” Remus says, his voice suddenly calm and serious, “just a child no different than a human’s young no matter what those hypocritical bastards believe.”

(A few months ago he stood in the middle of the village, Mable’s and Urtha’s children swarming him. ‘Please Virgil,’ they chanted, ‘one more story! One more story!’ ‘Alright,’ he said laughing, ‘alright but just one more okay? I got work to do.

‘One day a mother checked on her child’s crib and cried out in anguish. For her child sported a beard and had long thin teeth. Sharp and spindly, good at tearing through flesh. The child’s grey eyes held a spark too wise. Its head was too small, disproportionate from its body. For it was not her child in the crib. It was a changeling.’)

“I don’t want this, please.” Virgil begs, slumping his head downwards.

The giant’s eyes, more than twice the size of him, regard him. With a flick, the mirror disappears. He reaches out with his other hand. Virgil tenses, waiting for the spirit to crush him. A single finger raises his chin up gently.

“I won’t kill you,” Remus says and with it Virgil’s heart plummets, “I mean, killing is fun. But this wouldn’t be fun for me or you, I promise. Ya know what’d be fun?”

“What?” Virgil asks. He wonders if he’s about to become Remus’ servant. Or worse, a plaything. Something for the giant to screw around with until he played too rough. There’s nothing Virgil could do to stop him. He’s too small to fight back even if he wanted to. 

“If we became friends.”

“Friends? What? Why?!”

“Why not?” The giant grins crookedly, “does there have to be a reason?”

“…I guess not.”

“Sooo?”

“Okay, fine, it’s whatever.” Virgil concedes, body drooping with exhaustion. He hasn’t eaten since he woke up changed and disoriented. He yelps, a jolt of adrenaline pumping through his veins as the giant presses him against his chest in a hug of some sort.

“Great! You won’t regret this!” 

“I think I do.”

“That’s the spirit!” Remus cheers, oddly unfazed as he still holds Virgil close to his chest, “now woulda like to meet my demon friend? Half his face is a snake!”

“Sure,” Virgil yawns. He can’t help it–Remus is warm and for the moment, doesn’t seem interested in maiming him. He falls asleep to the rhythmic stomps of Remus as he traverses through the woods, rambling all the way.

[shadow-assassin-blix]

It Belongs in a Museum

CHAPTER 4

A/N: Okay. Shorter than what I usually do, but I promise the next chapter will be longer. Canon typical violence. I kind of thought of the Mummy Returns for the first bit. Some fluffiness toward the end though. “Spanish”

Everything tag: @mikeisthricedeceased

Pedro tag: @m-1234  @fioccodineveautunnale @artsymaddie​

For this fic: @sarahjkl82-blog​ 

The next day, they split up with their assigned guards, to run through each hallway. Vixen and Veracruz were going to go down the spiral staircase that led to a long hallway. As they made their way down, Veracruz carried a machete, but also, she noticed, he kept his hand near his holstered gun.

She held the torch, lighting any other torches they came across as they walked. The hallway was bare of any artwork, roots hanging low from the ceiling. The floor was uneven, so they had to meander down it slowly.

They came to a doorway that was covered in moss. Vixen stepped forward examining it closely. She quietly wiped away the moss trying to find a handle or a lock mechanism. As she studied it, Veracruz apparently was impatient as he grabbed the crowbar from her pack and jammed it into the gap between the wall and door.

“V!” She exclaimed watching him pry it open.

“Your way was taking too long,” Veracruz mumbled as he pulled the door open.

Vixen rolled her eyes at him as she walked past him into the room. It opened up to a small room, and she gasped as the light illuminated it. The walls were filled with bones and skulls everywhere. She looked around, spinning in a circle, amazed.

“It’s a catacomb,” She whispered.

“Vixen. The floor you’re standing on is moving,” Veracruz grimaced as he stared down at her feet.

Vixen looked down and saw hundreds of snakes and spiders crawling over her feet. She blanched slightly but kept moving, seeing another hallway to her right.

Veracruz followed after her, moving a bit more delicately, stepping onto gaps rather than just brushing them aside like Vixen did. He didn’t quite understand how she could so calmly walk past all of this. Veracruz wasn’t one to experience fear, but he was raised to have a healthy amount of superstitions. He caught up to Vixen a moment later.

“You okay there V?” she asked somewhat concerned but also slightly amused by his behaviors.

He simply grunted in response and waved her to move forward. She walked further down and noticed the hallway opened up to a large atrium. She stared at everything in awe. It was like time had stood still as she took in her surroundings.

The center looked to be a market area, with stands, bowls and vases strewn about. The outer areas were stone houses and the structure to the back appeared to be a sanctuary of sorts.

“Whoa,” She heard Veracruz whisper.

“I know right?” She replied to him.

“It looks like the jungle… just… swallowed this village whole. How is that possible? How has no one ever found this place before?” Veracruz wondered as he stood next to her.

“Could be a number of reasons. Diseases, a pandemic, could have run rampant through the village. From the looks of it, the village slowly sank with the years. Between rains and floods, it’s possible no one was ever able to reach this area. Or others have found it and ran into the people that attacked us. That’s what we are here to hopefully figure out,” Vixen explained as she examined the walls.

Veracruz listened to her explanation impressed, as they continued to light the room up, before further exploring.

“Okay. Fair warning, I talk to myself a lot. So, if you hear me mumbling, just ignore me,” Vixen warned as she pulled out her notebook and camera, holding her pen between her teeth for a moment.

“Understood. Do what you need to, darling. I am just here to guard,” He replied taking a seat on some rock formation.

Vixen moved around the center of the main area, taking photos before writing down what she was seeing. Once she was done with that, she began to explore the individual homes, doing her best not to disturb anything. The homes were small, so it did not take her long to explore each one.

She made her way to the sanctuary; the archway was ornate, carvings engraved into the stone. She examined the archway, trying to take some photos. She realized that she needed to take some rubbings of it to fully analyze it. She made a note of that, before moving forward.

There were some steps that led to an open area, that led to an altar at the back. She moved slowly, as she stepped onto the cobbled floor; trying to avoid suspicious looking stones. She realized the further she walked in, there were several skeletons that had arrows sticking out of them. She stared at their armor noting some were Spanish Conquistadors and Roman Legionnaires.

She slowed further down, gulping slightly as she noticed the large serpentine sculptures, with their mouths wide opened. She had walked into a trap and had to be smart about this.

The steps she noticed were becoming increasingly difficult to navigate. She was having to hop or take large steps to the solid stones.

Eventually she had gotten to the altar; she stared at it somewhat confused because there was no obvious sign of anything valuable. No glittering jewel or rare item, obviously waiting to be taken. She gently wandered around the rectangular altar, that looked a bit like a casket of sorts.

Behind it, laid a skeleton, and in its grasps was a sparkling necklace made mostly of gold and emeralds. She took a photo of it, before reaching into her pockets, to pull out a pair of gloves. Once they were on, she gingerly pulled the necklace out of its grasp.

It was heavy as it laid in her hands. From what she could see so far, it was the only thing of immense value; the only thing worth stealing.

“That doesn’t make sense though. Why risk your life for a necklace?” She said to herself out loud.

“It’s not necklace they wanted dearie, but the inscription on the back of it. They wanted to know the way to El Dorado,” Came an unfamiliar voice from the opening.

She glanced up to see three men, armed to the teeth, walking toward her.

“What did you do with..” She began to ask, fearing the worst, as she noticed Veracruz wasn’t with them.

“Loverboy? He’s taking a short nap. Now, hand over the necklace girlie,” The leader demanded.

However, unlike her, they did not pay attention to their footing. The men flanking him both stepped onto a pressure plate, causing arrows and darts to start shooting out at them. The man in the middle, tried to duck and rush forward, to avoid them. His backup fell to the ground swiftly with pained groans, before dying.

Vixen had to think fast, as the third man made his was to her, dodging the arrows. She looked at the altar before her, realizing that the top looked like it could move. She shoved at it harshly, the lid sliding off and hitting the third man. The pain from the stone smashing his foot, caused him to jerk up, followed by an arrow lodging itself in his throat.

Vixen looked away, horrified, trying to not vomit at the sight before her. It wasn’t until she heard a loud thud that she looked back.

She glanced down at the now opened altar and winced. It had been a casket. She quietly muttered an apology in several languages, as she tried to go around the casket again, and grab the top. However, it was too heavy for her to lift. She was going to need help, but she had to wait for the dispenser to empty of arrows.

A minute had passed, before they had emptied, and she was able to make her way back to Veracruz. He was lying on the ground, slowly moving as he came to.

“V? V are you okay?” She asked worriedly as she squatted down near him.

She gently helped him sit up, gasping at the wound that was on his head.

“Veracruz,” She whispered his name, as she tried to examine his head further.

“I’m okay little fox. Pissed that those assholes got the drop on me. Where are they?” He questioned as he tried to stand up.

“Hey! No. You are not going anywhere. And… they are very much dead,” She answered not looking at him.

“Lemme guess… first time seeing someone die?” He guessed taking in her trembling hands and lips, her lack of eye contact.

She simply nodded once, not trusting herself to speak. She quietly grabbed his radio and asked for backup.

Minutes later, several of his men and Professor Jones had arrived. One of his men had a first aid kit and began to work on him. It wasn’t until Professor Jones had gone to help her up, his hands grasping her forearms, that she hissed out in pain.

Professor Jones turned her arm over, revealing a large, bloodied scrape from when she had tried to push casket top.

The medic, after taking care of the Comandante quickly took care of her wound as well. The medic and a few other soldiers walked Veracruz back up top to rest.

The rest stayed there with them, as they wandered back into the sanctuary.

Vixen quietly explained what happened to the professor as they worked back to the altar. She looked down at the necklace she had dropped in her panic and picked it up. She laid it inside the casket, before her and the professor placed the top back over it.

“I know part of you might be dying to know the location of El Dorado, but there’s a reason why it was kept hidden from the world. I am proud that you resisted temptation and placed that necklace back where it belongs,” Professor Jones said to her as they walked down the long hallway to rejoin the others.

“I didn’t even think about it to be honest. I saw these skeletons of men from hundreds of years ago, dead simply because they wanted to find a city of gold? That allegedly existed? Then for those men to attack us just for a clue to its location? No. No fortune or glory is worth dying over,” Vixen replied wiping away the sweat from her face.  

“Well. You are already doing better than I was when I was your age. Younger me, would’ve taken it, figured out the location, and then brought back something to show for it. Older me, now realizes, I am too old to run away from boulders, to drink from holy grails, or dodge lunatics who try to rip out my heart,” Indiana lamented lightly.

“Rip out your heart? Haven’t heard that story before. Who the hell did you piss off?” Vixen wondered in both fascinated and horrified.

He laughed lightly, “I’ll tell all of you once we are topside and safe.”

They regrouped with everyone back at camp, recounting the story, but ignoring the bit about El Dorado. By the time she had finished, and Indiana had told his story about the heart ripper, it was late. She was exhausted but she was worried about Veracruz. The others had gone to bed, and there were only a couple guards patrolling.

She quietly made her way over to his tent, ducking under the flaps once she had unzipped it. She closed it back up, before wandering over to his bed. He was quietly laying there, a fresh butterfly band-aid on his forehead. She gently brushed her hand down the side of his cheek, the action waking him. He stared up at her, blinking.

“Hi. Sorry. I just wanted to check on you,” She whispered as she sat next to him.

“Oh? Worried about lil ol’ me? Careful, lovely, one might think you have feelings for me?” He softly teased.

She rolled her eyes at him, motioning for him to scootch over. He does so, staring at her as she dressed down a bit. She threw off her shoes and socks, before shoving her pants down, stepping out of them. She undid her bra and took it off from under her shirt before joining him on his cot.

She curled herself around him, laying her head on his chest. His arms slowly wrapped themselves around her, keeping her close.

“What if I did?” She asked lowly.

He hummed in response, confused.

“What if I did have feelings for you? What would you say?” She questioned, turning her head to look up at him.

“I’d say…. That you were a fool. My fool, but a fool nonetheless,” He answered after a moment.

“Your fool, eh?” She snickered softly. “What does that make you?”

“An idiot… for maybe, possibly having feelings for you as well,” He replied with a cough.

“An idiot and a fool. Quite the couple we make,” She murmured as she slowly fell asleep.

“Indeed,” He whispered as he reached over to turn the lantern that lit his tent off.

Veracruz was internally beating himself up. How could he have been caught off guard? How were they able to sneak up on him? He was furious when the medic brought him to his tent. He desperately wanted to punch something, but his head injury prevented him. So, he had laid there and stew with all of this pent-up rage until he fell asleep.

When he heard someone enter his room, he was ready to yell, to scream, and then he recognized the touch and all of it left him. All of his anger and the need to fight, disappeared when he opened his eyes and saw Vixen standing there.

He would never fully admit his feelings, but there was no denying it. He cared for her more than he realized. Part of him wants to shove her away, to rebuild his walls and return to his life of solitude.

Another part however…. A much larger part… wanted to whisk her away and never return. Keep her to himself, and never let her leave his sight.

He wasn’t sure what was going to happen come morning, but for now… he was going to rest, with his woman right by his side.