#more simpage

[petrichormuse]

this is definitely a post where you want to click/tap to zoom in for the dialogue

this was the dumb idea i mentioned making into a extra mini comic of the marriage affection i posted before

i remember i called them in a few memey messages with friends a "huswife" or "wusband" as a joke because it sounds so stupidly funny

but it might just be me idk

enjoy more wife ruin eclipse bc i love him <3

[tinyarmsmcgee]

I gotta say it I just gotta. Y’all downplay Geto’s simp behavior!!! Like yeah Gojo is more out and pathetic about it but Geto wore a robe the name of which had Gojo in it!! His daughters were like we will never forgive you for killing our father but for his sake we let it go. FOR HIS SAKE MEANING THEY KNEW HOW MUCH HE STILL CARED. Also add all the official art where Geto is looking and smiling at Gojo like he hung the stars in the sky. Geto had his shit to deal with and was very determined to go his path but make no mistake. That man was also a grade a simp!! Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[erros429]

every time you post something, i think to myself, the simpage has gone too far… and then it gets worse

i have literally never loved an ask more in my life thank you so much

[cheesecake-beech]

HEY BROS I'm in the mood to draw some hello kitty shit or even mario n MIIS FROM WII SPORTS/RESORT 😩😩😩 I'm prolly gonna go draw pictures and pictures of Matt AKJFHASJFSHADFGS/j I promise I'm still gonna do the ones in my inbox (like 2-4 lmao) But I'm in the mood for other things rn

I recently quite LITERALLY lost a friend because he realized I wasn't willing to draw for him for free anymore (r/choosingbeggars amirite?) and he literally wanted 10 drawings from me and 💀 that clown was deadass being a little disrespectful when we were in Client and Artist conversations. But when I told him I wouldn't do it for free and to message someone else clown straight up blocked me 🤡. But I wasn't upset? More relieved actually? Felt as though a HUGEASS weight was lifted from my shoulders because that creep was starting to get on my nerves 😭 made me SUUPER uncomfortable at times and deadass would only look at women and talk abt women because dude was begging for the frickle frackle 🤡🤡🤡 League of Legends players am I right?

BUT SINCE IM FREE OF THAT BURDEN NOW!! No longer having to worry about his DMs n shit, I'd like to spend my time drawing and doing other shit. haha Any requests or smthin? :O

[babygirlbdubs]

judging by the simping going on in my notifs i should just start posting screenshots of rendog every stream

[that-local-cryptid]

god containing my inner simp is so difficult

like, I know nobody rn who is into shipping and its so sad, because i really really wanna talk abt my current hyperfixation, but i cant because nobody else would get it

even moreso because its two specific esport dudes from korea...

[eldritch-spouse]

ok last thing i promise, i started this simpage eons ago and forgot about, enjoy

And you didn't show me this-?? 😭

Thenk you, stupid egghead getting genuine affection from someone who can tolerate him.

I like the way you draw him, it's very cute. :7

Mister Bregory is probably special to some people here because he kind of started it all, honestly.

As per usual, I lament one more time that none of my ocs show up in my dreams, which is endlessly beffudling.

Regardless, I hope the Breg brainworms don't bite too hard. 🫡

[starleska]

As soon as I saw the guy in the new Helluva Boss episode, I went "Oh I bet people on Tumblr are trying to fuck him right now. He has the charm of a guy who is trying to sell you snake oil and is failing miserably. Or a really sleazy used car salesman who hasn't made a single deal." And then I went on your blog and behold hdhdjjddn.

To be fair I am also not immune to the good old "guy who definitely sells snake oil but hasn't made a single sale" character design and I do like sea themed monsters. So yeah.

oh Ira, you know me and the demographic of this website incredibly well 🥴🥴🥴

honestly i'm delighted that so many people are down bad for Rolando because i thought i was gonna be fighting for my life about him!! but i underestimated the high-simpage capabilities of this fandom, and how many of us were starved for a real freak 👉👈

it's even funnier that he has all of this revolting glib charm and it's completely on purpose!!! more like trying to sell you snake oil and loving the fact that he can't 😂i do wonder whether all Infestor demons have a more 'creepy' appearance, because in the cast of Sexypeople in the Hellaverse, Rolando's design stands out in a fantastic way...they ought to lean into it more often 🙈💖💖 dfgfds oh god yeah you are so right!!! i'll be real, i'd be exactly as down bad as i am now if Rolando only had his human form and that was his perpetual look, but fuuuuck we lucked out on the demon design!!! it's one of the coolest anthros i've ever seen!!!! i think Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel resonate with so many people because they tap into the joy of character creation so much 🥺🥺

[tsbs-shipfessions]

chat why are we encouraging simping for the creator /silly

Anyway, I have come to offer more ships that rot my brain hehe

Lord Eclipse x his Harvest (bloodmoon twin) but he keeps them as a pet

Experimental moonchips they're trying out relationships and experimenting together nsjsnshdd

dark sun x me, no I will not expand on that

Kc x nexus, big moon and little moon. He could sit in his lap and he'd fit wonderfully. Listen it sounds like a crackship but im cooking

Alex's kc and solar flare x me, im still jealous of Sun, and nexus in the one one-shot.

From what I've seen, the Creator simpage primarily comes from everyone getting a rise out of me. I hate all of you.

Anyways, wonderful taste, Anon.

[arkarti]

sooooo, is Mrs. Afton here?🤣

lol I love the simpage ol Willy is getting😫❤️ will you be doing anything with this character after the car saga? Will we be able to see the bite of 87 or him building sister location?👀

asdf 😂😂😂 Honestly wasn't expecting that so many ppl swarm to him but that's how it is now 😳

honestly haven't thought about it. Maybe do another (shorter???) adventure if I feel inspired. but I'm definitely gonna do more silly willy doodle pages they're fun to do :3

[multifandoms27-blog]

Reiner Braun Relationship HC's 2

• ───────────────── •

Content: Post-Marley Reiner Braun x GN! Reader

Warnings: Simpage (from me), mentions of kidnapping, mentions of Marco, Zeke. Also slight suggestiveness at the end, but nothing explicit.

Notes: No S4 spoilers, even though this takes place in Marley. Anime watchers can read this 👍

• ───────────────── •

Okay so, a lot of this is going to be based off an rp between me and a friend you know who you are but I feel it's close enough to his character in S4, so bare with me

Reiner took you with him to Marley by force so now you're kinda stuck with him

If you can forgive him after the whole Marco/traitor thing, I would then this will be no problem for you

He's super serious in government meetings and anything pertaining to Titans and Paradis, but when with you he's anything but

Sometimes he needs to be held and told he's okay, sometimes he wants to take you out for a walk, sometimes he just needs your presence with him but don't talk to him...it depends

I feel like he would tell you what's going on within the government and what's happened over at Paradis, even though he's not supposed to and you both could be killed for it

He only does that so you're in the loop and are safe. Although, since you'd be from Paradis, I doubt the government wouldn't make good use of you.

Reiner would do anything to make sure they wouldn't send you back over to Paradis, or make you fight again. Obviously this can only extend so far, unless you gain the favor of Zeke. But that's a discussion for another day.

Reiner would still like some PDA, or just being semi clingy in general, as you're one of his only lights of happiness. But he wants the PDA to be restricted to hand holding in front of Gabi and the others.

He's going to lean on you a lot more in Marley than he ever did in Paradis, and it might be a little overwhelming, maybe annoying, but he's a broken man and is just trying to make you happy while also trying to be happy himself.

He can get jealous pretty easily - he's always worried about losing you. So when he sees you with Zeke once you've gained his favor, he's going to start comparing himself and the older man. He's going to lash out at you and Zeke for it, but will really only beg for forgiveness from you. Please show him the wonderful ways of communicating problems.

When you're alone and you grab his tits chest, he might give you a confused look before letting you continue to mess with him. He doesn't understand your fixation with his chest, but if it makes you happy, they're all yours.

Reiner please give me a chance I beg of you

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

[wordy-little-witch]

Not me looking at your Polycrossguild convenience marriage au thinking about the wedding vows and how fun it would be if trough the entire “convenience to lovers” pipeline, that’s the thing they just can’t seem to get right while they all sit together and practice them like one would do trying to remember lines for a nativity play. None of them are into it, it all looks incredibly forced no matter what they do. No matter what they change or how much they practice it’s just…. Awful. Stiff. So obviously a marriage of convenience thing it hurts.

But after a whole lot of confusing feelings and low key romcom shenanigans the wedding happens and they are all so done they go off script… and it works… kinda. Because if you read their vows on paper they would read like the most horrid vows you ever seen. Mihawk only speaks a few words, Buggy’s stutters out his and it seems like a weird tangent and Crocodile…. Basically straight up passive aggressively insults his husband’s through the entire thing…. But it’s by far the most genuine “performance” of their vows these three have given.

Hawkeye doesn’t say much, he rarely does, but when he squeezes his soon to be husbands hands it’s clear to say anything more would be unnecessary . Buggy is flustered and in love and is trying his damndest to get over himself trying to express that, using a metaphor only the three of them would get because Mihawk used it as a snippy commentary about this shit show when they first started practicing together. And nobody has ever seen Sir Crocodile smile so fondly at anything that wasn’t a Bananawani, even as he expresses annoyance at the men in front of him.

Iiiii dunno if I’m even making sense here, just got struck with the mental image of Crocodile smiling at Buggy and calling him “My beloved little pest of a clown.” And Buggy looking up at him, smiling just as happily while trying to blink away the tears from his eyes.

OKAY LITERALLY THIS

Like. They're Idiots, Your Honor. They absolutely try EVRYTHING to make it seem "authentic", and so Mihawk's papers are written in calligraphy, with verbose prose that boios down to some Gonez Adams Level of simpage but lowkey because he has a reputation.

Crocodile's is written like a damn business agreement, with clauses and edited areas to update and revamp it. He cannot for the life of him find that middle ground of Decently Organized and Genuine.

Buggy's filled no less than three full journals in WIPs of it, and almost all are scribbled on, torn out and crumpled up, or nearly burned bc he raged and threw it into a bon fire.

Finally, day of, they're scrambling and losing their MINDS and suddenly Nobody Can Find The Vows. Everyone is panicking. Something may be on fire.

Ritchie is found with glitter gel pen on his muzzle.

They're gonna have to wind it.

They're all McLosing It.

At least, they were.

Then they catch sight of one another, and suddenly.... the world has stopped.

None of them are exactly traditional, but they make it work. Mihawk is in ruffles and frills, accenting the sleek lines of his body in black and ruby, with slim cut pants and high boots which only serve to make his figure that much more imposingly ethereal. Crocodile opts for suits on a normal day, but this one is different in the cut and style, muted but bold, glimmering but softer, a much more subtle display of wealth and poise which makes him ooze charisma like snake oil. And Buggy has forgone a suit all together, opting instead for a gown, a mermaid cut dress which hugged his curves perfectly, fabric shimmering between violet and red depending on the light with a silvery blazer openly draped and held across his shoulders via a rainbow of beads which matched the colorful hair pins holding his curls from his face and neck.

All three are breathless when they see one another, and suddenly the words are there - odd to an outsider, certainly, but true to the heart in a way visible to all.

Mihawk's short vow is met with a bark of laughter from Crocodile, a silvery giggle from Buggy.

Buggy's rambling stuttered mess becomes teary and he's suddenly bitching about his eyeliner running. Mihawk and Crocodile both crack smiles, even as Mihawk wordlessly passes over a handkerchief and Crocodile makes a comment on looking into waterproof liner later on together - mascara too, he mentions casually, because the brand Buggy likes released a new line a exile back, they'll look into it.

Crocodile's is bemoaning his taste in men, but it's oozing warmth, and when he catches himself getting a little too mushy in public, he actually blushes and scoffs. Mihawk and Buggy look delightfully on with impish smiles.

It's weird and off and anything but typical, but it feels so incredibly real to those involved.

Maybe a little too real to some...

Of course the shenanigans that ensue during their "honeymoon" are another thing entirely.... 👀

[beanibon]

Mer!Livio x Reader Headcanons

I have slowly been accepting my Livio simpage, so why not add him alongside the merboys.

Reader owns a home at another section of the lake, not a holiday home just a normal house. Reader prefers solitude and often fears interaction with other people, her pass time is clearing the lake of trash that holiday goers leave. You also have a sausage dog called Mildred, cause I said so xD

TW: smut, cockwarming, borderline exhibitionism, mating mark, slight oral (f!receiving), biting, slight overstimulation, over all a very soft boy.

Livio lives in the same Saltwater lake as Wolfwood, who has taken it upon himself to be his unofficial big bro. He shows the younger merman the ropes, how to avoid the family that holidays at their lake, and how to hunt with their pod. Overall, Livio has become family, often found clinging to his brother.

You would imagine his shock upon seeing Wolfwood mating with a human late at night, mouth agape as he shyly observed his brother mating with the creatures he swore he hated. It was awkward to say the least, especially when he was dragged to meet said human.

Since then Livio has opted to try and become more independent, exploring further sections of the lake. During these times he'd hunt with his and Wolfwoods pod, until one day he noticed the sharks branching off at an interval.

Curiosity got the better of Livio as he pursued them, resulting in a rather unusual sight.

You were collecting trash left by holiday goers when the sharks approached, familiar with your presence. Of course that didn't stop a few from charging you, Livio went to intervene, stopping as you outstretched a hand to redirect the sharks.

This confused Livio, never before had his brother's human done something like this, let alone be found anywhere within the water. However you on the other hand allowed his family to swim around you, unbothered by their company unless one got too close. It intrigued him, yet he would not approach.

He watched with disappointment as you left, stripping off the gear and dumping the garbage in its respectable bins. Livio began to get more curious, so his visits to this side of the lake became more frequent, observing you as his passtime.

There was an odd creature that followed you around, one that Livio watched like he would prey. You fondled this creature with affection, throwing sticks into the water for it to retrieve. Surely if it could swim that meant it was fair game?

Livio lunged at the small mammal, fangs bared as he screeched. As his claws went to dig into this animals soft flesh, something hard smacked him square in the face. Whimpering chirps sounded from the merman, rubbing timidly at his bloodied nose, lunch now on shore besides you.

You had your other shoe in hand, aimed at inhuman man above the waters surface, you were confused as it began making drawled out chirps as if it were crying.

Guilt surfaced in your gut, so you entered the water, slowly approaching this oddity. With a gentle touch, you wiped the blood off his face, pinching his nose to stop any bleeding.

While you were close, you took the opportunity to study him, as if to confirm what you were seeing. Livio watched you, nervous like you were to hurt him again, but your touch was warm. Was this what dragged his brother away? You smelt nice?

Livio braved a few shy sniffs, circling you before appearing before you again, eyes wide as he gaze into your own. Yet as quickly as it happened, Livio screeched and vanished, leaving you alone in the water.

From that point on you saw the young merman frequently, sometimes during your dives, other times when you spent your time outside. One time Livio was found basking on your dock, asleep as the early morning rays warmed his flesh. You approached him, running a hand along his tail, abruptly waking him.

In his startle Livio fell back into the water, he seemed displeased as he resurfaced, a few disgruntled chirps sounded from him. You were even splashed by his tail, which you couldnt help but laugh at.

That sound had Livio hooked, head tilted this way and that like Mildred would when presented a treat. He climbed back onto the dock, circled around you then resumed his nap, damp tail soaking your clothes. It was as if he was saying "go ahead".

For the next few weeks this became a regular ordeal, until Livio decided to try something new. You were snorkelling, collecting trash like usual when Livio approached, nuzzling against you and chirping with delight. Yet when you went to greet him back, you were gently shoved into the ground, his larger form pressed into you.

Pointed teeth nibbled at your shoulder, then went lower and lower until he was grazing your clothed sex with his canines. Livio pressed his face into you, yellow eyes studying for any sign to stop, only you urged him forward to which he tore your swimsuit to devour you.

For weeks watching Wolfwood please his own human, Livio thought he'd gain enough experience to do the same. But without having done it before, you could tell he was a little rusty. Though it was the thought that counts.

Livio lapped at your folds, suckling them as his teeth brushed against the fragile skin. Your legs kicked as pain exploded from your inner thigh, blood escaping the bite mark that Livio innocently licked.

You were brought to the surface, placed ever so gently upon the dock as your lower body dangled over the edge. The cold, wet member that was Livio's cock slithered between your legs, causing moans of anticipation to escape you.

Those sounds only had Livio chirp in excitement, gently entering you, stretching your walls with his foreign cock. You stayed like that for ages, the merman practically purring as his cock twitched inside you. You tried begging Livio to move, he only growled and wiggled further into you.

You could've sworn your stomach had bulged, pressed beneath him as Livio squeaked and whined as your walls contracted around him. That's what caused him to move, thrust after thrust until you were drooling onto the polished wood of your dock.

The water splashed at each collided of his hips against your ass, strong arms on either side as he sunk his teeth into your soft flesh again and again. His chirps were restrained, quiet as you felt his lips brush your ear, as if Livio only wanted you to hear him.

An arm wrapped around your waist, hoisting you up as he slid onto the dock fully. Carefully Livio turned you around, slitted yellow eyes staring into your own as he bred you.

Even when he was done, satisfied with the end results, Livio didn't pull out. No. Instead he snuggled into you, body wiggling as you protested due to his cock still inside you. With a tired yawn, Livio cuddled into you with his weight pressing you against the wooden dock, familiarising himself with the soft walls of your cunt.

It was something you could get use to, snuggled next to your cuddly water cat. A sweet creature that adored the way you ran your hand along his body, touching you with such care whenever the opportunity arose.

First time writing for Livio, so feel free to give me any feedback! Thank you all, had hope you enjoy!

I'll be getting back to requests now!

[tatekane]

Guys watch admin stream you can see Etho run SOT. He died where Pete died in an old run before, forgot which one but I gotta say Etho was very good for a first runner altho he needed a bit more briefing about target blocks, the statues coming alive and calling out room/dungeon colors. For a newcomer and minimal practice (no vod watching?) he was great. No one mentioned he can get his gold back too when he died.

His parkour is commendable! Get outta here with these "washed up" comments!

Now we just need to convince him that for MCC he doesn't need to entertain his chat while he's streaming, so he doesn't need to feel pressured about that (he mentioned this before as a reason for not liking streaming)

Oh and yeah, watch for Admin simpage on Etho

[the-river-runs]

Making another post for my best friend! All art was made by her (http.redshoes on Instagram) and I have been given permission to share these to Tumblr

Fan art for @naffeclipse and her fic series, Sleuth Jesters!

Fandom says,

"Hello Naff!! And hello everyone else!! It’s me, your fav average Instagram user/meme and edit maker, Fandom (also known as http.redshoes 😌😌😌)

I hope that everyone is having a good day today <333

Today I bring not a meme comp or an edit, but some fanart!

(Which is fanart regarding @lavenoon 's SI, @just-a-drawing-bean 's version of MB!Eclipse, and some self indulgence of drawing my humanized version of the celestial boys with the SJ fits.)

Sorry in advance if anything looks weird, I’ve kinda been on art block for a hot minute. Also I need a small break from my Insta account and focus more on my art ^^’

See I have a confession. For the past two weeks or so, I’ve been, uh, “perceived” on a satire edit I’ve made. A very satire edit. The algorithm decided to give me a boost on said satire edit, and, well…

Because of the mad simpage I’ve been receiving in story reshares or in the comment section, I would like to apologize to the Mafia Boss Eclipse simps </3

You guys are tame. Very normal compared to said simps “perceiving” my satire edit. Your behavior is very normal actually compared to them.

I’ve read and seen things with the stuff people have confessed under my satire edit that just won’t die down 😭

And it’s. It’s been a silly journey. (I can definitely say that for sure haha!) But without further ado, enjoy the fanart! 💕💕💕" -Fandom

[mizumech]

Day 4: Divine/Infernal

It’s mizumech! I had this written a little in advance, so here it is. Presenting “rises the moon” a demon hunter AU clocking in at 1743 words.

I reserve all rights to editing and putting it up on ao3, and happy reading! :]

TW: guns, swearing, injury

—

Martyn’s hands twitch on his rifle. The day is almost gone and he can make out the faintest shape of the moon in the sky.

Tonight will be the night he hunts a demon.

The church altar roars with noise as the pastor rouses the people and their pitchforks, and Martyn’s stomach seems to do a flip.

He clutches at the lapis talisman under his coat; because something deep down is telling him that this hunt will be one of his biggest mistakes for a reason he can’t fathom.

He’s not scared of the chase and he’s not scared to kill. He doesn’t believe in their god and he doesn’t believe in demons.

So why does his heart still protest this one like his life depends on it?

Martyn remembers his first kill. A great stag on a full moon, with antlers that pronged towards the sky.

Ren hadn’t been there to see it, but he had congratulated him on it when he came back to town, so that was that.

Speaking of which, where is he?

Well, any excuse to be away from that frenzied mob. Any excuse to be where he actually belongs.

~

Back at the house, Ren…isn’t there either.

The pantry’s also bare, which is strange since Martyn clearly remembers going to the market to buy pumpkins, potatoes, and steak with Ren just yesterday.

To be fair, Ren’s always a little absent during full moons, and the week after often consists of Martyn helping to patch up wounds that he knows Ren will never explain, but tonight is important to the safety of their home, and Ren wouldn’t just run, right?

Right?

But his coat and his axe are gone.

Where could he be?

~

Ren watches as Martyn leaves the altar with worry twisting his features.

In that moment where the moonlight slips through the rooftops and catches his features, Ren thinks he might be looking at a god.

His hair looks like someone spun gold and took the care to sew it into a doll and his eyes are like if someone could have a Heart of the Sea for eyes.

God to a mortal.

Unbeliever to a demon.

A shout from the rabble startles him out of his trance.

The moon is rising, and his simpage must cease, for the sake of both his safety and Martyn’s sanity.

Goodbye, sweet Dogwarts, he thinks.

If Ren can help it, he will never see Dogwarts again.

~

No one has seen him.

Neither that nice librarian who’s dedicated their life to Mending books nor that farmer who’s spent theirs in the sun hoeing and threshing grain.

Martyn can’t tell if he’s buying himself time or running out of time.

However, Martyn has suspicions. 

One last spot to check before giving up, he decides, just one more.

~

As he reaches the forest, Martyn decides enough is enough. He’s quickly gotten sidetracked by a shady figure who he knows he can't let go and he still hasn’t found Ren.

He forcefully loads his rifle, letting his normally practiced movements be heard.

The hooded figure stops in its tracks and slowly turns around.

Martyn trains his gun on them, not willing to make another sound until they do, cacophony of hard breathing and pumping blood rushing in his ears; thoughts of Ren all gone.

Who-you, they sign in Dogwarts Sign Language, Why-here?

Martyn’s thought flow stutters to a halt. 

“I—I’m not going to put down my gun. I—Maybe you’re mute or maybe you’re deaf but I don’t know what your intentions are, or whether you’re a threat to us…”

He lets out a shaky exhale, almost too shaky for his liking, the adrenaline leaving, leaving Martyn working on empty but surprisingly clear-headed.

His fingers twitch on the trigger.

“Show me you don’t mean any harm.”

The hooded figure fumbles, patting themself down for any talismans or tokens, presumably.

Martyn has no problems with that, but then the hooded figure’s hands start retreating towards the pocket area, and that’s what raises his hackles.

It could be a knife or it could be a bribe or it could be a—

He shoots. Better safe than sorry.

The sound reverberates, bullet arching upwards, straight and true in some twisted arithmetic question; gun recoil hitting his cheekbone, just as the hooded figure reaches out a hand; either to stop him or to show him something and shouts his name.

“Martyn!”

Fuck.

He’s just alerted basically the whole village to their location with his gunshot, for it to be nothing.

Martyn slowly lowers his gun from its position, from pointing towards the sky to strapped across his shoulder.

He doesn’t even need to look at what they were trying to show him, because he’d know that voice anywhere.

“Ren.”

“Hey.”

Martyn sighs. Out of petulance, he turns to reloading and cleaning his rifle; very purposefully not meeting Ren’s gaze.

“Well, if you’ve got anything to say, at all,” he sneers as the bullet case is ejected, “Now’s the time to do it. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m sorry, my dude.”

“You’re always sorry, Ren. Every month you’re sorry, and from the moment I met you when you were bleeding in the woods you were sorry. Doesn’t that remind you of someone?”

The image of flaxen hair and void-dark eyes seems to telepathically manifest between them.

“That’s not fair, to compare me to him.”

Fair?

“What? Because he’s the one who’s bandaging his landlord’s wounds? Because he’s never left Scar?” Martyn snarls, all his previously bubbling annoyance suddenly rising to the top; rifle now aimed back at Ren, “What do you take me for?”

“Martyn—“

“All you ever do is leave,” Martyn grits out, between the roiling turmoil that threatens to make him shed tears because gods above, Ren is someone who he has always cared too damn much about, “You leave and you come back right as I think you’re gone forever and then you leave again and you leave me to pick up the pieces—“

“You don’t understand, Martyn! I’m leaving for a reason that is bigger than you and me. I can’t tell you or show you because—“

Martyn slowly lowers his rifle again.

“—because you don’t trust me?”

Ren sighs, adjusting his robes while he fidgets.

“…yeah, I guess. I—I—take a walk with me?”

“Don’t be a coward about this. No more running, no more running away, okay?”

“I’m not,” Ren says, and Martyn can hear his voice crack, “I’m not running. That’s not the difficult part.”

“Then stop walking away. Stop fucking—leaving all the time. If you’re going to leave, don’t keep coming back just to do it again. What is so much bigger than me that I can’t understand it? Am I just not enough?”

“You’re always gonna be enough, Martyn.”

It would be so easy for Martyn to leave it on that; something that will keep him going in hard times. But all his problems in his life have been because of his big fucking mouth, and it seems that he’ll never be able to let go of that habit of betting on losing dogs.

“If it’s so damn easy for you to leave, why do you even bother coming back at all?”

“Because leaving ISN’T THE EASY PART, MARTYN!” Ren shouts, maybe sobs out, “It's loving you, that’s the easiest goddamn thing in the world! That’s why it’s so difficult to come back! I come back every month and I see you worried! I see you holding your questions and I know you want answers that I can’t give you!”

In the emotional scuffle, Ren’s hood falls.

The moonlight that’s cast on his face starts to distort his features, much to Martyn’s horror and shock as his eyes go crimson and grey starts to seep into his normally brown hair; the colour of wolf fur. His skin starts to mottle with scales and his figure starts to tower, with horns spiralling and leathery wings ripping out of his back like a leviathan might cut through the sea and into the open air.

Martyn clutches his rifle, frame seemingly cutting into his hands like an ill-made axe, as he whispers with uselessly trembling hands, as he shrinks away from him, “Ren, your hood’s off, Ren——”

The air suddenly feels dryer, now like the air wasn’t made for someone human like Martyn himself to breathe.

“Who’s the coward now, Martyn? Who’s running?”

That word jolts him out of the trance. 

Why is he running? From Ren, of all people?

“That’s…fair.”

Ren turns away from him.

“I can hear them coming. Do what you have to do. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m…sorry. For all of this. I just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

There’s a rueful laugh from Ren.

“You were also sorry from the moment we met, weren’t you? You’re also sorry every month when you make me drink that—glistering melon juice.”

“That’s just…us now, I guess. Losing dogs who can’t stop regretting.”

“And who’ll be left to bet on us?”

They both share a melancholy chuckle. A good last inside joke to ease the parting pains.

~

Finally, the pitchforks come and the shouts of the rabble grow ever louder as they approach.

Ren turns back to him, eyes conveying some sort of look Martyn can’t ever hope to decipher in this lifetime. 

There’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to leave unsaid.

And for once in his life, his big mouth (doesn’t) fail(s) him.

Ren’s height forces Martyn to look up to stare into those strangely pink pupils; pink like a peony in a snake’s skull; up like a child looking upon a god.

As Ren seems to ascend with the beats of those powerful wings, one of the elders shouts for Martyn.

“Shoot, boy, shoot!”

Instinct suddenly kicks in again.

He raises his rifle.

Shoots a missing shot, just skimming Ren’s ear and reloads.

The bullet case falls beside a lapis talisman that matches his.

It’s Ren’s.

That’s enough to send a tear streaking down Martyn’s face as he takes aim again because he could have killed him—

He closes his eyes, and lets fate take his next shot. Maybe he won’t even shoot.

“All you do is leave,” Martyn whispers bitterly against the butt of his gun; maybe a bit of a justification to himself, and maybe a bit of an angry mourning, “All you've ever done is leave.”

Martyn’s hands twitch on his rifle. The day is almost gone and he can make out the faintest shape of the moon in the sky.

Tonight will be the night he hunts a demon.

The church altar roars with noise as the pastor rouses the people and their pitchforks, and Martyn’s stomach seems to do a flip.

He clutches at the lapis talisman under his coat; because something deep down is telling him that this hunt will be one of his biggest mistakes for a reason he can’t fathom.

He’s not scared of the chase and he’s not scared to kill. He doesn’t believe in their god and he doesn’t believe in demons.

So why does his heart still protest this one like his life depends on it?

Martyn remembers his first kill. A great stag on a full moon, with antlers that pronged towards the sky.

Ren hadn’t been there to see it, but he had congratulated him on it when he came back to town, so that was that.

Speaking of which, where is he?

Well, any excuse to be away from that frenzied mob. Any excuse to be where he actually belongs.

~

Back at the house, Ren…isn’t there either.

The pantry’s also bare, which is strange since Martyn clearly remembers going to the market to buy pumpkins, potatoes, and steak with Ren just yesterday.

To be fair, Ren’s always a little absent during full moons, and the week after often consists of Martyn helping to patch up wounds that he knows Ren will never explain, but tonight is important to the safety of their home, and Ren wouldn’t just run, right?

Right?

But his coat and his axe are gone.

Where could he be?

~

Ren watches as Martyn leaves the altar with worry twisting his features.

In that moment where the moonlight slips through the rooftops and catches his features, Ren thinks he might be looking at a god.

His hair looks like someone spun gold and took the care to sew it into a doll and his eyes are like if someone could have a Heart of the Sea for eyes.

God to a mortal.

Unbeliever to a demon.

A shout from the rabble startles him out of his trance.

The moon is rising, and his simpage must cease, for the sake of both his safety and Martyn’s sanity.

Goodbye, sweet Dogwarts, he thinks.

If Ren can help it, he will never see Dogwarts again.

~

No one has seen him.

Neither that nice librarian who’s dedicated their life to Mending books nor that farmer who’s spent theirs in the sun hoeing and threshing grain.

Martyn can’t tell if he’s buying himself time or running out of time.

However, Martyn has suspicions. 

One last spot to check before giving up, he decides, just one more.

~

As he reaches the forest, Martyn decides enough is enough. He’s quickly gotten sidetracked by a shady figure who he knows he can't let go and he still hasn’t found Ren.

He forcefully loads his rifle, letting his normally practiced movements be heard.

The hooded figure stops in its tracks and slowly turns around.

Martyn trains his gun on them, not willing to make another sound until they do, cacophony of hard breathing and pumping blood rushing in his ears; thoughts of Ren all gone.

Who-you, they sign in Dogwarts Sign Language, Why-here?

Martyn’s thought flow stutters to a halt. 

“I—I’m not going to put down my gun. I—Maybe you’re mute or maybe you’re deaf but I don’t know what your intentions are, or whether you’re a threat to us…”

He lets out a shaky exhale, almost too shaky for his liking, the adrenaline leaving, leaving Martyn working on empty but surprisingly clear-headed.

His fingers twitch on the trigger.

“Show me you don’t mean any harm.”

The hooded figure fumbles, patting themself down for any talismans or tokens, presumably.

Martyn has no problems with that, but then the hooded figure’s hands start retreating towards the pocket area, and that’s what raises his hackles.

It could be a knife or it could be a bribe or it could be a—

He shoots. Better safe than sorry.

The sound reverberates, bullet arching upwards, straight and true in some twisted arithmetic question; gun recoil hitting his cheekbone, just as the hooded figure reaches out a hand; either to stop him or to show him something and shouts his name.

“Martyn!”

Fuck.

He’s just alerted basically the whole village to their location with his gunshot, for it to be nothing.

Martyn slowly lowers his gun from its position, from pointing towards the sky to strapped across his shoulder.

He doesn’t even need to look at what they were trying to show him, because he’d know that voice anywhere.

“Ren.”

“Hey.”

Martyn sighs. Out of petulance, he turns to reloading and cleaning his rifle; very purposefully not meeting Ren’s gaze.

“Well, if you’ve got anything to say, at all,” he sneers as the bullet case is ejected, “Now’s the time to do it. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m sorry, my dude.”

“You’re always sorry, Ren. Every month you’re sorry, and from the moment I met you when you were bleeding in the woods you were sorry. Doesn’t that remind you of someone?”

The image of flaxen hair and void-dark eyes seems to telepathically manifest between them.

“That’s not fair, to compare me to him.”

Fair?

“What? Because he’s the one who’s bandaging his landlord’s wounds? Because he’s never left Scar?” Martyn snarls, all his previously bubbling annoyance suddenly rising to the top; rifle now aimed back at Ren, “What do you take me for?”

“Martyn—“

“All you ever do is leave,” Martyn grits out, between the roiling turmoil that threatens to make him shed tears because gods above, Ren is someone who he has always cared too damn much about, “You leave and you come back right as I think you’re gone forever and then you leave again and you leave me to pick up the pieces—“

“You don’t understand, Martyn! I’m leaving for a reason that is bigger than you and me. I can’t tell you or show you because—“

Martyn slowly lowers his rifle again.

“—because you don’t trust me?”

Ren sighs, adjusting his robes while he fidgets.

“…yeah, I guess. I—I—take a walk with me?”

“Don’t be a coward about this. No more running, no more running away, okay?”

“I’m not,” Ren says, and Martyn can hear his voice crack, “I’m not running. That’s not the difficult part.”

“Then stop walking away. Stop fucking—leaving all the time. If you’re going to leave, don’t keep coming back just to do it again. What is so much bigger than me that I can’t understand it? Am I just not enough?”

“You’re always gonna be enough, Martyn.”

It would be so easy for Martyn to leave it on that; something that will keep him going in hard times. But all his problems in his life have been because of his big fucking mouth, and it seems that he’ll never be able to let go of that habit of betting on losing dogs.

“If it’s so damn easy for you to leave, why do you even bother coming back at all?”

“Because leaving ISN’T THE EASY PART, MARTYN!” Ren shouts, maybe sobs out, “It's loving you, that’s the easiest goddamn thing in the world! That’s why it’s so difficult to come back! I come back every month and I see you worried! I see you holding your questions and I know you want answers that I can’t give you!”

In the emotional scuffle, Ren’s hood falls.

The moonlight that’s cast on his face starts to distort his features, much to Martyn’s horror and shock as his eyes go crimson and grey starts to seep into his normally brown hair; the colour of wolf fur. His skin starts to mottle with scales and his figure starts to tower, with horns spiralling and leathery wings ripping out of his back like a leviathan might cut through the sea and into the open air.

Martyn clutches his rifle, frame seemingly cutting into his hands like an ill-made axe, as he whispers with uselessly trembling hands, as he shrinks away from him, “Ren, your hood’s off, Ren——”

The air suddenly feels dryer, now like the air wasn’t made for someone human like Martyn himself to breathe.

“Who’s the coward now, Martyn? Who’s running?”

That word jolts him out of the trance. 

Why is he running? From Ren, of all people?

“That’s…fair.”

Ren turns away from him.

“I can hear them coming. Do what you have to do. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m…sorry. For all of this. I just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

There’s a rueful laugh from Ren.

“You were also sorry from the moment we met, weren’t you? You’re also sorry every month when you make me drink that—glistering melon juice.”

“That’s just…us now, I guess. Losing dogs who can’t stop regretting.”

“And who’ll be left to bet on us?”

They both share a melancholy chuckle. A good last inside joke to ease the parting pains.

~

Finally, the pitchforks come and the shouts of the rabble grow ever louder as they approach.

Ren turns back to him, eyes conveying some sort of look Martyn can’t ever hope to decipher in this lifetime. 

There’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to leave unsaid.

And for once in his life, his big mouth (doesn’t) fail(s) him.

Ren’s height forces Martyn to look up to stare into those strangely pink pupils; pink like a peony in a snake’s skull; up like a child looking upon a god.

As Ren seems to ascend with the beats of those powerful wings, one of the elders shouts for Martyn.

“Shoot, boy, shoot!”

Instinct suddenly kicks in again.

He raises his rifle.

Shoots a missing shot, just skimming Ren’s ear and reloads.

The bullet case falls beside a lapis talisman that matches his.

It’s Ren’s.

That’s enough to send a tear streaking down Martyn’s face as he takes aim again because he could have killed him—

He closes his eyes, and lets fate take his next shot. Maybe he won’t even shoot.

“All you do is leave,” Martyn whispers bitterly against the butt of his gun; maybe a bit of a justification to himself, and maybe a bit of an angry mourning, “All you've ever done is leave.”

@treebarkweek