#moss out here yapping

[itzmoss]

its back to school time you know what that means

LISTENING TO THE MAGNUS PROTOCOL WHILE DOING ART LETSGOOOOOOO

i am also incredibly behind so i will have a lot to catch up on yipiee!!!

also i hate my schools art department... cus we barely have one...

ive taken literally all the art classes my school has to offer

this year i only have ceramics for the second half of the year 😭

my study skills/free period teachers are gonna have to deal with me just doing art the whole time...

this is devastating truly

how the hell am i... a student in senior year supposed to make a PORTFOLIO FOR COLLEGE when i dont have a fucking PORTFOLIO class...

like sorry there are only 4 people at this school that doesnt wanna do sports or stem

HELP 😭😭😭😭

[cyberwhumper]

Woah. Rex doesn’t remember getting drunk.

        But he must be, right? He’s gotta be fucking plastered to be this dizzy. He feels like he’s on a boat. Fuck, the whole world is spinning, tilted all diagonal style, lights way too bright. He winces, pulling back a little at the spike of pain behind his eyes. Vicky always insists on going to just the trashiest fucking clubs, way too loud, way too many lights—huh. Vic. There he is, the bitch.

             Rex tries to say something, to call him out for the stupid fucking look on his face, big brown eyes all wide and panicky looking, but his tongue feels like lead and the words just won’t come out. No big deal. Vicky yaps enough for the both of ‘em, always has.

“Cap?” he’s saying, getting up in Rex’s face. “Rex, bud, can you hear me?”

Of course Rex can’t hear him. The music is way too fucking loud, bass thundering in his ears and making his skull prickle. Or—huh. Wait. There isn’t any music. That’s just his pulse. And there aren’t actually any strobe lights, just fluorescent glare. They’re not at the club. Hell, he’s not even drunk. And he’s lying down on the…oh. On the ice.

Oh, fuck.

“Easy, dude. Don’t move. Trainer’s coming.” Vic’s got his glove off, fingers warm on Rex’s cheekbone. Rex whines in the back of his throat; Vicky shouldn’t be touching him like that, not here, not where everybody can see them, but goddamn if it doesn’t feel good, a little anchor, safe harbor in the storm.

Vic looks scared, though. He’s chewing on his mouthguard like a dog, and Rex wants to tell him to quit it, stop being a bitch and give him a hand up, but Christ, he really can’t figure out how to make his lips move. The spinning keeps happening, making his stomach clench, and the pain in his head is intensifying, a burning in his eyes and a dull ache at the base of his neck. Fuck.

Rex is…Rex is maybe a little scared too.

“Look at me. Hey. Hey. Cap, c’mon, look at me, baby, don’t close your eyes, Rex, Rex, FUCK, get the medic over here NOW—”

Doesn’t matter that he’s not drunk. Either way, he blacks out.

[Fic by the exceptionally talented @bxtterflystxtches , who I have the honor of collaborating with for this event. Please show him some love!]

[OC INDEX]

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness // @moss-tombstone // @lambofmine // @maracujatangerine // @pinkraindropsfell // @writereleaserepeat // @blood-and-regrets // @littlespacecastle // @snakebites-and-ink // @unforgiven235 // @lonesome--hunter // @atomicsandwichprince // @writereleaserepeat // @whatamidoingherehelpme // @skittles-the-whumpee // @the-blind-one-speaks // @i-eat-worlds // @devourerofcheesecake // @theauthorintraining // @otterfrost // @mommymarichatfurever // @whumpifi // @catnykit // @bitchaknso // @softmutt444 // @yet-another-heathen // @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat // @burnticedlatte // @violent-ultraviolet // @limitlesstrash17 // @inspiral-rl // @coyotehusk // @mis-graves // @caffeinatedscorpio // @defire // @badluck990 // @unforgivenn //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

[dizzydennis]

Sonic x Knuckles - Cover Story

(Translator Note: This was an older translation that seemed to get lost to time, but I found a half finished file I made and decided to punch it up a bit. I am not coming back to tumblr, but wanted to fix this and the Tails story just for archiving the Cover Story translations)

It was a normal afternoon on a sunny day on Angel Island.

In the middle of the jungle full of massive trees, various speices of moss, and other creatures and plants was Knuckles. He was looking everywhere for something. So much so that he was digging up the ground everywhere around him.

Suddenly, Sonic jumped over and sat on his head.

“Hey, Knuckles! What are you doing?

“Sonic! What are you trying to pull!?

Sonic had seen Knuckles furiously digging into the ground and thought he would go and say hello. However, knowing how Knuckles would react, Sonic couldn’t help teasing him a bit.

“Come on! Anybody would want to play whack-a-mole with an echidna who’s constantly popping in and out of the ground!”

“What’d you say?!”

Knuckles leapt up and swung at Sonic; just barely missing him.

It was hard to tell if they were fighting or just playing. But this went on for a while.

“You didn’t answer me no matter how many times I called out to you. It’s not my fault you didn’t notice I was here!”

“Shut up. Tsk, you never change.”

Once they both got tired of goofing off, Knuckles caught his breath and talked about the dream he had seen.

In his dream, he saw long lost ancestors dressed in tribal garments.

They said they wanted to give something to Knuckles as he was a decendant of the Knuckles Clan. They said it was deep in the jungle.

“I can’t explain why, but I can feel something around here. I know I can.”

Knuckles’ eyes were filled with determination as he looked around.

It wasn’t just his knack for treasure hunting. There was a clear pressure from his being the last echidna that could be seen on his face.

“Alright, that sounds pretty neat! I’ll lend a hand with your little treasure hunt! ‘Cause that’s what friends are for, right?”

“What are you yapping about? Don’t act like we’re good buddies. Get off my island!”

Knuckles then threw out his fist and started another outing of roughhousing between the two of them. However, Sonic tripped over something while evading Knuckles’ attacks.

“Ouch…!”

“Ha! You deserved that!”

Knuckles let off a huge smile. But, the second he did, something started shaking deep in the earth below.

From all of the shaking, a secret door opened up in the ground. From it rose a miniature altar. It was the same stone that the Mystic Ruins were made out of.

It seemed that whatever Sonic tripped over was a switch that opened it up.

A small stone box was on top of the miniature altar.

“You know you have to thank me now, right, Knuckles?”

“Yeah, thanks a bunch for falling over and making yourself look like an idiot.”

While barking his insult to Sonic, Knuckles opened up the box and found a pair of gloves inside, but they had heavy, sharp nails. These were his ancestors’ combat cloves.

“Oh, I see. Now you can really rev things up in your little battles, huh? A typical present for a fighting family like the Knuckles Clan, huh?”

“…”

Even though he found the treasure, Knuckles remained silent as he closed the box. He didn’t have a rebuttal to Sonic’s insults which surprised the Blue Blur. He smiled as he clenched his fists.

“I don’t mean to speak ill of my ancesotrs, but these gloves… these hands that I have now. These are more than enough. As long as I can protect what’s most important to me then that’s all I need. Besides, I always come up on top no matter who I’m fighting! I don’t need something fancy like these ancient gloves.”

Knuckes definitely had a temper and was rough around the edges, but when it came to his desire and duty to protect the Master Emerald, his own abilities were more than enough.

Noticing this, Sonic had a change of perspective. He didn’t realize Knuckles had this side to him, but after hearing him speak so honorably, Sonic couldn’t resist teasing him again.

“Right, right. Using devices like this really isn’t your style! It’s your pure power that keeps all of our enemies out of our way. Ain’t that right, Knucklehead?

“…Who are you calling Knucklehead?”

Knuckles started putting on the ancient glove and took steps closer to Sonic.

“Wait, didn’t you just say you didn’t need those!”

“Shut your mouth! Come back here!”

Once again, whether they were playing or fighting, nobody could tell. But their antics could be heard for a long while within the jungles of Angel Island.

[jettboat]

CHAPTER 2 - WHAT'S THAT NOISE?

Leaf litter crunched under Bdubs's feet. His hands were shaking as he held his flashlight. Tugging his moss jacket that he created closer to himself, he noticed that it was getting colder much faster than he would've liked.

Suddenly, he heard a snap.

Turning around, he didn't see anything... Turning a few more times, he did a double take.

Just beyond a few more trees was a trio of glowing yellow eyes.

"H-hello?" Bdubs asked. "Who's there? Etho?"

There was no answer.

"Etho come on!" He said a bit louder, and a bit more squeaky then he would've liked. "I'm not in a joking mood! I will throw this flashlight at you!"

The eyes didn't move.

He heard a rustle and turned to face his side. He could still see the first in his peripheral vision. Unfortunately, it was joined by another trio of eyes.

Bdubs took a few steps back. He didn't think it was his friend anymore.

"Bdubs. Whatever you do. Don't. Move." A voice whispered above him.

He looked up to see Etho, sitting in a tree while looking down at him. The human then looked up towards the eyes.

"Etho, what-" Bdubs started before Etho shushed him.

The human hopped down from the tree as Bdubs turned to look back that the eyes.

"Stay here. Look at the the farther one, keep your eyes off me." He said.

Bdubs nodded as he turned to look at the eyes he was told to and heard Etho walk towards them.

"Hey guys! It's okay, he's my friend." Etho called, a shifting sound made Bdubs think he held up his hands.

The eyes made sounds that sounded like snapping branches, rustling leaves, and creaking trees all in one.

"I know, I know. I'll bring him back to my base. No harm needs to come to him." Etho said.

The eyes stood there for a minute.

"Bdubs, look down at the grass real quick." Etho called back.

As much as he didn't want to, he thought Etho knew what he was doing. He trusted him.

So, he looked down.

He heard the eyes retreat back into the woods.

"Come on, I'll show you to my base and explain everything." Etho said as Bdubs looked back up at him.

That was odd... He never realized it but... Etho has the same color eyes as the things in the woods...

"Um... Look at this... Leaf! Looks at this leaf and follow my voice." Etho explained as he fished a leaf out of his pocket and handed it to Bdubs.

"Ooookay?" Bdubs took the grey leaf and followed Etho's voice.

"It's just this way. What are you doing this far out in the middle of the night for?" The human asked.

"Grian and Martyn came to my- WAIT IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?!" Bdubs yelled. "IT WAS SUNSET WHEN I CAME IN." He almost looked up at Etho before remembering what his friend does in line of sight and kept his eyes on the leaf in his hands.

"Yeah, this forest likes playing mind tricks, like it's got a mind of it's own." Etho said. "What's this about Grian and Martyn?"

"Oh, they came over and started yapping about another theory they had." Bdubs explained, twirling the leaf in his fingers.

"What was it about this time? That Scar's a zombie?" Etho asked with a chuckle.

"No... It was about you not being human." Bdubs said, his suspicions rising.

Etho didn't answer for a moment which made Bdubs's stomach sink.

"You're not human... Are you?" Bdubs mumbled.

"I'll explain... We're almost there." Etho said.

Etho's base was in the heart of the pale garden. How Big B never found it was odd, but to be fair, he probably never went this deep in the woods.

It was cozy inside, a lot warmer than outside much to Bdubs's surprise.

"This is incredible!" Bdubs said, turning to Etho who instantly froze where he stood after closing the door.

"Thanks, sit down, I'll make some hot cocoa." Etho said.

Bdubs sat down at a table, fusing his jacket back into his body.

Etho soon came back with two mugs of hot cocoa.

He handed one to Bdubs before sitting down himself.

Bdubs blew on his cocoa as Etho sighed.

"I'm sorry, I really should've told you sooner..." He said as he stared at his mug.

"Hey man, it's alright! You can tell me anything." Bdubs smiled at him.

The human took a deep breath in. "I'm... Not human... I'm a creaking." He said, avoiding Bdubs's gaze. "I've lived here all my life and a few weeks ago, I was allowed to leave the woods and join you guys in the game."

Bdubs stared at one of his best friends for a moment.

"Sweet cheese and crackers, Grian and Martyn were right!" He yelled.

I just realized how perfect this au is for Halloween time LOL

Bdubs knows Etho's secret now! How will Bdubs react? How will they get out of the woods and Grian's deal? All (might) be answered next time!

Huge thank you to all who voted on the last chapter, really helped pull this au together!

[loupgaroualejardin]

Will be yapping about headspace here for fair warning to everyone who doesn't want to read this, it may be long.

Our headspace is very, large, with about seven layers (give or take) that are all about the size of Alaska (With one being the size of a mid-sized mall and another being about as big as Switzerland), with The Void surrounding all of them.

Our most well documented two are The Garden (The primary layer which most headmates reside in and can easily transport to) and The Blocks (The layer just above The Garden that is materialized aspect of Minecraft, where, really only minecraft sourced/related headmates can reach).

The Garden is the largest amongst the layers, with five different sections, and roughly eight areas in each section that are well known about. The sections are divided amongst the areas from start to finish, which would be:

The Garden - A open long grass field surrounded lightly by pine and coniferous trees. Most heavily populated due to existence of the Teleporting City in it.

The Mountains - A rocky mountain that splits The Garden from the rest of the layer, a bit hard to traverse.

The Garden Pt.2 - A area primarily packed full with forests of deciduous and oak trees, with a trail between a few locations. It thins out when getting to the border of the Moss Sea and near Lemongrass' farm.

The Moss Sea - A sea reminiscent of Cayos Cochinos in Honduras with a island in the middle (though, it's much too far out to see from land). At Lemongrass' farm, they have a pier and boat for crossing the sea.

The Sahara - Across the Moss Sea there is a desert. It's one of the least populated places in the whole system, with only four beings residing there.

Done yapping for today. Um, Ask questions if you want, we love talking about our headspace!

[fairyhagmother]

okay i know i’ve been annoying in your ask box a lot recently but i can’t stop thinking about livia and i throughly enjoy anytime you speak about her. so please, spare some livia cardew thoughts?

Oh please you could never annoy me <33

Under a cut due to lengthy and unhinged yapping and potentially triggering content (tagged)

Talking about Livia on here has really helped me refine her character — she has changed so much since I started thinking abt her, from outright villain to simply being misunderstood to outright villain again. Now she kind of sits in the middle. there is a dark streak to her, for sure, but she does also have some redeeming qualities.

I’ve always been under the impression that she was raised by her mother after the war so I’ve kind of run with that. Her father was a legal scholar who died during the war (still unsure how) and Livia misses him horribly. Livia’s mother buried herself in her work so Livia has pretty much raised herself (and has done a. not so great job at times). She’s been enrolled in ballet since her earliest childhood, and is actually an extremely talented dancer who has a knack for pushing through and past physical pain and could have been a professional, but her mother’s always said that it would have been a waste of her intelligence (🤨). She has a long-standing rivalry with Palmyra Monty that once resulted in um. fisticuffs. shall we say. Unfortunately for all, Livia has pretty poor emotional regulation skills and will get so angry, and so outraged, that she will lash out, usually after a period of lengthy seething. She figures out early on that sometimes causing other people pain brings her pleasure, especially if she believes that her fury is somehow justified (however skewed that justification may be).

She’s gay but doesn’t really know it.

She marries one of Arachne’s older brothers. Again I go back and forth with what happens to poor Tiberius Crane. He dies, that for sure. As you know I’ve sorta been playing around with Livia being Snow’s second wife, but the idea that he may have married Iphigenia Moss is so deeply horrific to me that I almost push back against it. I think that he takes so much from her that it exacerbates her mental health issues and that that is what kills her, and I find that extremely troubling.

Anyways sometimes I think she ends up marrying Snow because she loves power. Sometimes it’s because she’s on a revenge crusade for Iphie (which everyone thinks is really strange because Iphie and Livia weren’t even that close). Sometimes it’s because she genuinely thinks she may be happy with him (BUZZER. WRONG.)

Coriolanus and Livia are incredibly poorly suited to each other. It is fascinating. They seem so repulsed by each other that everyone is genuinely shocked when they have children together. like it’s a joke in the friend group where they will just look at each other in absolute disbelief and shock like when and how the fuck did THAT happen. It did and it was terrible. That Livia has constant affairs is the Capitol’s worst kept secret but somehow coriolanus is just like “my wife’s lesbianism is the only thing I respect about her.” I’m joking. Or am I. Idk it’s hard for me to reconcile snows obsession with control and his image with his rather unruly wife’s behaviour. I’m choosing to see it like how in medieval literature everyone knows king arthur’s wife is having an affair but no one says anything out of fear of disrupting the status quo. now I bet u didn’t think I’d manage to work king arthur into this but there you have it.

Livia hates her husband and fantasises about killing him constantly. She stumbles across the John collier clytemnestra painting while she’s at a reception at the Ravinstills and is deeply compelled like. Maybe she could axe coriolanus while he’s in the bath? Wouldn’t that be fun and empowering?

In some worlds she escapes her husband and drives off into the sunset after mobilising a network of women who hate coriolanus (there’s a lot). sometimes she realises that he will kill her so kills herself just to spite him and disrupt his career. She’s pretty unhinged by this point. I think she dotes on her children, particularly her youngest daughter, so I’m trying to wrap my head around a context in which it would make sense for her to leave her children behind? Maybe she thinks they will be safer with her gone but coriolanus not in power than they would be if she were around but coriolanus was in power? Idk idk initially this entire thing started bc I thought It would be funey if Livia gone girled herself but now I kinda can’t make it work lol

[matildaelsiee]

[ matilda’s blog ~

hey, my loves!! welcome <3 i hope my terrible rambling isn’t too painful for you to stick around a while c; ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. → tilda | she/her | 14 | july cancer | infp | british | wannabe psychologist | amateur writer but professional mentally unstable mess | i keep deleting my posts and restarting my blog jhsjskdh | bisexual | obsessed an unhealthy amount with a lot of things | yaps way too much!! (im gonna stop here and yap further down instead nyahahha)

over 18s and any discriminatory people, please dni!

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . sorry for the amount of yap your about to witness! // and already have witnessed.. 𓂃 ⋆˙。

“and in the echoes of silence, i found a symphony of whispers.”

current favourite songs: when by dodie, end scene by ruel, strawberry wine by noah kahan, long live (taylor’s version) by taylor swift, feels like by gracie abrams

things i like: autumn, pinterest, spotify, cats (ESPECIALLY kittens), making up stories based on songs or playlists, tea, books, tv shows/movies, sleeping etc.

interests/hobbies: photography, reading, gaming (mostly minecraft and roblox), watching youtube, writing, journalling, napping and absolutely loads more but it’s 1am and i need to sleep lol

this is my first ever blog so it’s gonna be a little (this means extraordinarily in my dictionary btw) chaotic and messy for a while, since i’m still getting used to everything. i am hoping to make some online friends though, it’s been one of my childhood dreams for some strange reason, so please do reach out to me (warning: i am quite socially awkward and will probably yap and seem psychotic somehow-) <33

i will be taking questions and requests for various things as soon as i’ve got my blog sorted (although sometimes my ask box will be closed if i have too many to do/don’t have time)

“other people may reject you but if you lie on the forest floor for long enough the moss and fungi will always accept you as one of their own”

if your reading this, im ultimately grateful for you staying through me nattering about messy nonsensical bs so here’s a hug for it (and just in case you need it!) -> 🫂

p.s. im gonna be so real..i have no idea how to use tumblr 😭 when i’ve learnt the ways, i’ll come back and fix this.. but for now i’ll post it under my tag (♯┆tilda .ᐟ ★)

[unearthlyfromage]

Chapter 2 is ready!

Huge thanks to @trangenderstan my amazing editor and @koraesdoodles my fantastic beta reader!

Content warning! This story has gore, body horror, major character death, psychological torment, etc. If that's not something you can handle, it's alright! Not all stories are for everyone.

AO3 link;

For those that want to stay here on Tumblr, the chapter will be under the cut!

There was an intrepid silence throughout the large and cave ridden wilderness. Crackle and squeal of odd logs under the blaze of a roaring fire, the man sat in his cave poking at the embers with a large metal rod. It wasn’t as if he’d been here long, no, he was merely hiding out. Away from his crimes, far from civilized people living off foreign lands. A forest of no trees, of no bark and leafy green. Instead, moss. Moss and stone and flowers as far as the eye could see, amongst rows and rows of large fungal brilliance. 

Setting the rod down with a huff, satisfied with the warmth, he checked the roast sitting racked above the flames as it was licked and tasted by pure heat. Some kind of three tusked and six limbed boar he’d shot down after it attempted to charge him. 

It would make a fine meal, Stan figured, digging through the many bags he’d kept tightly strapped down to one another for the sake of travel. 

He watched as it took out a leather bound tome, and sat in a criss-cross as it jotted inquiries and findings of this strange land, a way to keep its wits he figured. Document the places he’s been, the things he’s seen. Everything is quiet, peaceful. A silence he’d grown to love over the years, a change of pace from the whitenoise of other people surrounding him all his life until that swirling bright light dragged him in from the darkness of normalcy. 

He was so enthralled he didn’t notice the eye in the darkness. 

The creeping and lanky thing staring at him with hunger, claws digging deep into the fungus he’d been latched onto. The boar smelled nice, but he was more focused on the pig with its nose stuffed in its book. 

Sliding down the large, thick stock he left jagged lines down either side as he did. The large, black disfigured fingertips slicing through like a steak knife to warm butter, clawed and mangled feet doing much the same. He heaved a satisfied sigh. He had him right where he wanted him. 

Stan wasn’t a picky person, not by any means. He knew a tasty meal when he saw one, and it looked so helpless. Of course it was armed, the modified pistol beside him on his belt buckle quite obvious in the glint of the two moons. Slinking his way around the perimeter, Stan eyed this creature like the spectacle it was. Contemplating how he was to do this, he realized that he’d have to find a way inside the cave if he really wanted to have fun. It’s not the prey itself, but the way you approach it, that makes the moment.

Slinking off and into the darkness once more, his one unblinking eye bore into the other with a finality, he thought of a way to make him move. The sounds of wildlife were so loud behind him, the yapping and chittering howls of strange four eyed canines heavy in the air. They smelled food, and so did he. He was going to enjoy the spoils.

He took a moment to process the way these things sounded. The way they skittered. The whimpers and yelps they let out when fighting amongst themselves. Eye refusing to move from his target, he saw the way the other’s head lifted with every noise, that telltale fear yet intrigue. There was no better bait than giving them what they wanted. He fought back the urge to guffaw at past moments, times where he’d played with their minds and watched the way they ticked. Sickening as it was. 

Whispering a few trial runs to himself, his mouth curling to match notes, neck twitching in effort he managed to make rather convincing mimics. It was far easier to parrot human noises but animals weren’t too difficult compared to them, it just required a little more practice. Hunkering low he emitted these crowing howls in mocking gestures to the actual thing, on his fours to make adequate sounds in the bush-like moss growths, kicking it up as he circled.

At first there was panic, they all looked the same when they panicked. The way their eyebrows twitched up, mouth curled down and posture lowered, ready. Of course this was not true fear. He knows true fear, in their sniveling vulnerable faces pinned underneath him he’s seen it. An expression that spoke thousands of words. Second, it was curiosity, eyes narrowed and standing up straighter as if he were some kind of higher power. Typical, as they were never anything more than false Gods. Needless to say it got his attention alright, standing up with his gun out and aimed ready to strike. Stan was no dumb animal - he knew this thing was about to shoot, and made louder, more growling sounds to make hairs raise in that way he so adored. 

A marvelous, echoing bang rustled through the moss laden woods in a tremble as he fired. Stan eyed the charred greenery just a little up from where he was, a pained croaking whimper leaving Stan’s lips in the hopes it makes the man come up to see if he’s hit anything. Getting up on his feet to silently slink towards the cave away from him, he watched as the idiot took the lure well, boots crunching atop the small rocks to scour the area with a light, talking to himself. Stan paid no mind to it, quickly entering the open stony maw to clamber up the walls and wait on the ceiling, in a divot that goes just above the lip. 

Angry mutterings filled the empty echoes, the sounds of scraping and something settling as the other sat down to prod at the meat some more, talking of ‘getting better at his sharp-shooting’. He’ll have to help with his eyesight, staring into the back of his head. He could dig around in his skull a little, find what makes him so rotten. But only He could see such impurities of the mind. Stan was nothing more than a driving force, and he understood that perfectly. 

Dropping down slowly, silently, arms flexing taught as he gingerly set his weight towards the floor. Tips of sharp, gnarled toes brushing against rocky ground, he let go once he knew he could ease down silently enough to be masked by the roaring flames. They were so beautiful, even if they were the wrong color. Orange was angry, uncontrolled, unpredictable. Blue fits the dancing brilliance so much better. Tantalizing in the way they waved, every curve and curl exactly as He designed them. 

The softest click of talon-like digits against the ground was his only warning, face snapping backwards just in time to see Stan lunge, a yell of panic quickly turning to wails of agony as Stan buried him nose down in the burning embers, stomping down on his wrists to keep him from grasping at his weapon. Screams of laughter and deep, guttural wails filled the forests as Stan quaked with enjoyment, raising his head up to let him breathe the smokey air just to dig it back down, his blackened hands calloused and largely unaffected by the lapping and coiling heat that sunk bites and sharp kisses into the others flesh, melting glasses to skin and eyes as hair went alight in the struggle. He was yanking him by the hair so hard he was sure he tugged out most of it by the time he found it boring. Looking down at his feet, Stan loved the way that disgusting thing writhed and curled in agony, his cries quieter now, interlayed in horrific coughing fits of a man inhaling fungal spore laden smoke. 

Throwing him away, he grabbed the gun from its place on his body and threw it far into the woods. It misfired with its impact, but that was hardly of any importance. Stan busied himself with getting the boar off its rack, as the meat tried to crawl away, sucking in breaths like a newborn, grizzling like one at that. He didn’t think the man could see anymore, given the way his eyelids glued shut with melted plastic and tempered glass, but there was always the chance. He never knew why they tried to run at this stage, it wasn’t like there was an existence to look forward to past this point. 

Dislodging the metal skewer, he walked towards the crawling man, shaking six fingered hands grasping at the moss as if it would save him. Dragging him back by the ankles, he relished in the fresh sob of wordless mercy that left him, a plea that needed no eloquence. A plea that would ultimately fall on deaf ears, gripping him by the throat to steady him. Hands gripped at Stan's wrist, clawing at his face with desperation, weak legs kicking at him as he garbled and gasped with an agonal need to survive and yet none of it truly mattered. 

Despite all his struggling, Stan still plunged the skewer through his mouth, watching the way he went rigid at the searing of heated metal piercing through parts of him he’s never felt before, splintering through soft tissue and jutting out through him, just under his tailbone, moving muscle and bone and soft tissue to the sides. He twitched, flame-broiled mind attempting to process the input of so much pain, and Stan delighted in the little show as he propped the body up on the fire. 

Standing there, Stan regarded the scene, trying to judge on the twitchy jagged movements of his  whether or not it’s just his body reacting, or if he was actually still alive. Either way, he wouldn’t be for long. Sitting down, he flicked through the papers, one hand holding the heavy book as the other dug handfuls out of the boar to his side. It was a little raw, but he doubted anything living inside this thing would survive his body. Barely anything does, if the diseases he’d stamped out that were presumably “fatal” were anything to go by. 

It was generally boring drivel, the only thing irking him were the constant mentions of Him, all the words they choose to use blaspheming Him and His influence, claiming Him to be some sort of monster. Growing increasingly angry with every word, his claws dug rivers through the beaten leather covers, shaking in his grasp as he bore his eye into the corpse. 

Standing, he threw the tome into the roaring flames, embers billowing in plumes at the sudden intrusion. He stayed unphased, teeth grit tight enough to rattle his poorly mended skull. He spit on the mangled face as one last act of disrespect, and took his leave, stomping away into the dark woods. Scary and unclimbable to normal persons, but he could see quite well in the dark, not nearly as well as something created for the night but He had graced him with the privilege of such an upgrade. 

Moss was soft under his gait, the winds cool on his thick, marred skin. Opening his mouth, he smelled nothing more than an airy, earthy smell, ever so slightly sweet but pungent. Mushroom. Lights in the distance, an indication of life past the rustling of creatures behind him cawing and baying, he figured he could try to find another on the same planet, in the same universe. Though he knew he’d have to leave eventually, they might be cockroaches but they spread out far and wide. 

Stepping foot onto paved dirt, he rolled his shoulders. The town was sleeping, night gripping the souls of all the residents putting them under into sleep so sweet and enveloping. He loved towns like these. Silent, empty, the few odd souls up at such an hour stumbling about or slinking away. Criminals and grifters, people after his own heart though he could never place why - he was a man of intense and dedicating loyalty he had no time nor care to dabble in such a thing - it wasn’t as if his nose worked to begin with to take most narcotics. 

Taking out a battered photo, he stared down at the look-alike with hatred. An old wanted sign, detailing the high bounty of one Stanford F. Pines. It stained the bottom of his small bag for a decade now, and faded as it was; he found it quite useful to his goals. His steps were quiet for someone so large, lumbering over to a person-esq creature asleep on a bench, hat tilted downward and arms lazily crossed. 

Waking it up abruptly, slamming it into the wall it leaned against, he allowed it a few sputtering gasps before dangling the paper in front of it. 

“Hello,” he growled out, eye boring deep into the many eye-like dots it had instead. His lips split into a wide open grin. “Have you seen this worm recently?” 

~~

It just doesn’t make sense. There was no rhyme or reason to the death of all of these people. It had stopped for a moment, the track growing suddenly cold and dead and yet they always seemed to pop back up again. It was gruesome scene after gruesome scene, the same person. With no explanations, no leads, there was hardly anything they could do but document the phenomenon. 

Every town they visited shied away from them. Barred and locked their doors demanding they leave, talking about some great darkness that laid claim to their homesteads and haunted their streets, demanding to know where people that looked just like them were hiding. It was almost scary, in a way. Knowing you are being hunted like vermin. It was a sour taste in the back of his mouth, looking over the papers they had on the subject. 

It was dead for years, but the information gatherer they sent to one of the neighboring planets close to their home base grew silent. He already knew about all the natural dangers from the locals, so dying by them was low but never zero. Something about it made him intrigued, the question on his teeth asking if it really was this thing yet again, back from wherever it was hiding. 

Who was this thing, if it was a ‘who’ at all. It could be a ‘we’, an ‘it’. Anything. It could be a part of Bill's entourage, but all of their questionnaires rung up dead for that line of thinking. Setting them down, he huffed a sigh and drank from his mug of coffee, six fingers tapping against the wood in a rhythm. 

Why was it doing this?

[riwrite]

from @deiscension. Moss on a rock here to loop her arm through her best friend's and start chattering away as if it's her ordained right to yap his ear off. She'll even take it upon herself to brush some dirt (more likely imagined than not) from his shoulder before taking her fan out to keep the humidity at bay with broad, languid sweeps.

with his plain lack of reaction, it might as well be nothing happening at all, nevermind his peace and quiet being shattered by one wind master latching herself onto his arm like a leech and immediately beginning to babble on about something or other some other god did. he isn't listening ( though, truthfully, he doesn't need to. it had been an incident he'd witnessed himself through the eyes of one of the clones he has disguised as a middle official to keep tabs on happenings outside of his own purview as earth master ), but her tone is free of the judgement most others would slip into their speech about it — she even has defense for the man in question, and for a moment, he xuan thinks of how corrupt heaven is for the one most likely to stand up against unfair treatment being one who doesn't belong there.

it's a thought he's had many times, now, so it's as easy to brush away as the dust he's uncertain was ever on his shoulder. he allows her touch, the gentle brush of her fingers against his dark robes, the press of her elbow against his as she lets herself be led wherever he's going, and he allows her chatter, the bright voice by his ear switching topics to suggestions for ways they can spend the time ahead of them together. they are inseparable, two bodies walking as one, and he allows this. the pleasant breeze from her fan is angled just right to make their hair flutter in tandem.

he will tear this moss off his body and drown it one day if he must. underneath his skin of stone is a deep, dark ocean of roiling, stormy waves, anyhow. it is suffocating, and cold, and suitable only for dead things like himself. it's no place that moss can grow, and that, he tells himself, is for the better.

[mossdoesartshit]

yall might remember a different pinned post, but im changing things a bit JINGFIDJN

Hi hey hello! I’m Moss, i go by a few other names too but for the purposes of this blog im either Moss, Jester, or Arcade! i draw a lot! i am in a lot of fandoms! it is only smart to put both to good use and post about them!

so far ive mostly posted hazbin stuff, it is the current fixation going strong, but ill drop some other fandom art here and there!

once i have enough things for a masterposts worth, ill make one, and ill put it here! so far only sinner adam/adam, but believe you me, other stuff will happen too! i do like to write and yap a lot, so. ehe. etto. bleh JINOGFDIOJN -MASTERPOSTS- Sinner Adam

ill be putting my linktree as well! im not as active on other sites as i am here (And. i kinda fell off that train too. oops)(but im getting back into it!) Linktree main tags! my art - just a generic art tag tbh, did not think to do anything more and i am not editing who knows how many posts for a tag FGBUHGUDHFB.. moss asks - asks that have been sent to me and that ive answered!

hoping to do a lot more stuff and things, and to post more frequently and with more variety, but for now, thank you for checking my stuff out!

[if-you-see-me-run-away]

Me yapping about my dream :>

this story keeps poping up in my dremas foe a few days now, its a continues dream and i really love it

So, the dream: I always wake up at the doctors office, where i am told that my heart is infected with this mushroom called "holuběnka krásná", sometimes "holuběbka náměsíčná", which "huluběnka" is an actual mushroom in my languages, but the second names are made up in my dreams, and they mean pretty and sleep walking. I am told I have 12 hours to 48 hours of life, to say goodbye to lived ones, write down my last will and to pick clothes ill die in. In the nwxt moments, flowers and cute little mushrooms keep growing out of my shoulders, my veins go green and my chest starts so be covered in moss. Ants are crawling through my fingers.

I go to the playground in my town and hug all of my friends and wave to my parent through the window of our apartmen, cuz their literally a few metres apart (the playground and the apartmen). Than i give out all of my emotionally importnant things, like childhood fav toys, books, cds, clothes to my friends. People start to be afraid of me, cuz thr flowers are poking through my clothes and the white part of my eyes turned green. I also start crying here usually, but my tears are green.

I am in a salon, picking up my clothes. I always pick something different, but I always look like a fairy/elf when i wear it. Ať this point, onyl my fingers, face and feet arent covered in moss, my blood turned completaly green, my chest and back is full of tiny mushrooms and flowers.

They lay me down in a coffin and I close my eyes, and hear the doctor telling me to wake up. In a few days i wake up in this dream again, it all starting again.

I actually like this dream a lot, it feels soft and comforting

[itzmoss]

woke up early and it was like before cars were out and shit so it was just weirdly silent

so of course the first thing i did was go to tumblr and look at stupid posts to make me not feel like i was floating in the void

now there is cars guh

and one singular bird making a repatative sound outside the window

WAIT WAIT ANOTHER BIRD JUST MADE A NOISE LETSGOOOO

GOODMORNINGGGGGGGG

[areeis]

Finally did the Big D fight, so this is more of a spoiler post than general talk.

I like how when you enter the Mountain Temple your pawns become pushy for the first time. They really want you to finish it and their charge along with it. I like that.

The temple area is so pretty and imposing. I know the statues are close to what the DDOnline sphinx looked like, and it would've been cool to see them in 1, too.

No, Spectre. Just thought you had some input here. After yapping at me for ages I thought it was really polite of my Dragon to patiently wait for my decision, as he has to. There are so many instances of the game making sure you understand that there are several cutoff points. I'm thankful for that, but it's also a bit overkill sometimes, like for the wyrm hunt... That whole sequence with the goblins is also really funny, cos you're never once jumping in as you probably would if given the chance.

Never much liked these Crash Bandicoot levels.. Welp, there goes the temple. He's destroying more of it as the fight goes on and even though it's also funny to see him try to get to me I wish there was a way for me to take it all in before he does.

The fight itself was fun. If I had to just compare fights 1 wins it for sure. 2 is understandably underwhelming while 1 is just pure spectacle. And ballistas make an appearance, too! But are actually 100% needed! What luck! Again I like how 1 is more hands-on with the lore, too, and one by one explains the steps after an Arisen successfully kills their Dragon. I also like how that emphasised even more that in 2 you really exploit a loophole by using the Godsbane and therefore spare the other Arisen, too. Love how you return after the fight and just go straight into celebratory campfire sex scene and then head home in the morning. That was SO CAMP I love it! Just completely ignoring the capital and everything! I like all the shit you get after the fight, too, including the enhancements. I barely enhanced anything, yet, so that's a plus. Pity that pawns get NOTHING, though. It makes me want to redo the fight as Mage, just so Spectre can later get an enhanced staff. It's fine for now anyway, I don't think I'm even close to my best gear yet, not for looks and not for stats.

Yea cool moss-and-mold sky now. (That wyvern engaged us but then just flew off :c)

I went right into the Everfall quest and encountered 2 eyes (fun fight) and a hydra (also fun fight) until I stopped one wakestone short to see more of the world first. I was getting too much into the dungeon crawling!

Some charas I could meet after the Big D fight so far and my thoughts on them: I know Eddy would've never been buds with me, but his downfall could've been more graceful imo suck it loser, you could've met the Big D before I did to renew your pact. Steffen is barely holding on and I thought he'd be more resilient after offering his help against the griffin. :/ Maximilian branded me a traitor even though we took a nice trip together AND he should know I'm not that kind of person after the whole trial period, but I guess acab even in dd. Arsmith is the same old optimist and his notice board survived, which is great, he prolly won't have a negative thought in him until his final moments. Madeleine is back so I could finally give her the idol, I hope she can set up shop again somewhere nice. I got a little reminder for her in case she tries to cutesy herself out of paying me back, but I wouldn't mind if she asked me for more money again right after. Selene must find it weird to also still stay in my house that I now share with Valmiro, but maybe not. Just for her own sake I hope she can find a way to not be attached to an Arisen any more. I like Valmiro's ambition to explore while also attracting misfortune left and right. Honestly being chosen by the Big D has to be the greatest misfortune after he was just able to set out to explore, I'm so sorry XD You're still welcome to stay for as long as you like, though. Pablos still takes my side as he always does, great friend. The Fool still hasn't officially changed his name to Dragonforged on his ID yet. I wonder if he's gonna move house now, since it suddenly got a little more dusty and he's not bound to this place by anything any more.

I'm still searching for the others I want to meet. I'm liking the subtle difficulty spike and new enemies, so I'm sure I'll enjoy wandering the world for a while :>

[channelsoph]

do you ever think about lichen

well i do now yeah… assuming you meant the fungi and algae symbiosis and not the skin disease.

last year i used to think a lot about mushrooms in general, cause the system of it is fascinating and scary. and of course because The Last Of Us

there was this book that i really liked called “Entangled Life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change Our Minds and Shape Our Futures” by Merlin Sheldrake. great mushroom book, 10/10 would recommend. i don’t specifically remember it focusing on lichen but it’s a great read all in all

i really liked the description of lichen on USDA Forest Sevice. they describe it as symbiosis of two separate organisms, fungus and algae, and the use phrase “dominant partner” for fungus. i bet someone already wrote a fanfiction/created art about this dynamic lmao i would be 100% down to read/behold

i’m fully yapping at this point but i held an art exhibition last year which explored macro and microstructures and there was this girl who’s art stood out to me. her art process was that she gathered samples of organisms in the forest, studied them under a microscope and created her works based on those studies. the outcome were these beautiful abstract paintings where she used different media to convey the structure of those organisms. one of the paintings was named “Moss and Mushrooms”, i think it does the fungus justice

Lea Hoffbauer, “Moss and Mushrooms”, 2020 (on the right)

here’s a link to her website if you want to explore more of her works <3

[romanreignsgf]

Immm back againnnn, gosh its been a rough few months but i missed y'all! This is a weird ass plot where madcap moss is Drew's little brother and if you came here for smut then your kinda in luck? Theres some light smut in here

-Answer Key-

y/n - your name

y/f/s - your favorite soda

y/f/m/b - your favorite metal band

y/e/c - your eye color

-------------------------------------------------------

You were cuddling with your boyfriend, Michael Moss-McIntyre. You tried scooting closer but he pushed you aside "babe, you know i dont like cuddling like that" You nodded "Of course.. I'm sorry." Then his older brother Drew came in and sat in between you two, his hair was shiny and his fragrance was in the air. Drew decided to speak up "Hey bro. Y/N lovely to see you again, how are your studies going?" You smiled and blushed, Mike never asked you these kinds of questions "Uhm well-" "Can you guys get out?! I'm trying to watch the show and you two are yapping your lips!" You shed some tears, taking in what he just said "Babe i-" "Don't call me that! Look just fucking leave! We are done!" You started crying and got up, gathering your things and trying to go out the back door but Drew ran after you, stopping you. "y/n I'm so sorry.. Mike doesn't know what he is going to miss." You rubbed your arms, "I remember the night you thought I was Mike.." You giggled "I kissed you.. And flashed you.." Drew nodded "Hey, let's go upstairs, I have something for you" You followed him, avoiding Mike like he was the fucking flu. When you got upstairs you looked around his room. It smelt so good. Like cupcakes or y/f/s, and it was decorated with posters. Metallica, Ice Nine Kills, y/f/m/b, and Arctic Monkeys surprisingly. You sat on his bed, watching him sit next to you "I bought some snacks and a blu-ray of Friday The 13th. What would you say to a little movie night?" You looked at him and kissed him, He immediately kissed back pulling you into his lap. He pushed one hand up your shirt, beginning to touch and playing with your nipple, his other hand circling your clit. He pressed against it with light pressure. You moaned gently "D-Drew.. God bless america.." He slipped two fingers into your entrance using his thumb to rub your clit. He looked at your eyes "your eyes are an amazing shade of y/e/c" You moaned "Just let me please you, i don't want you to think about me, just let me please you.." He quickened the pace with his fingers. You moaned and hid your face in the crook of his neck "I-I'm gonna cum, Drew.." You could feel his smirk "Then cum, Darling" You moaned loudly and climaxed against Drew's fingers, after a minute or two, Drew pulled out his fingers and licked them clean "Your taste good.."

-Timeskip- 

You had taken a shower and borrowed some of Drew's clothes, you didn't like the boxers but you had to deal with them until your clothes were washed. Drew was laying in bed with his shirt off, your favorite snacks were sitting on the bed, and friday the 13th was about to be played on Drew's TV. He looked over at you and smiled "Come here darling, i've got everything you need" you nodded and sat far away from him but he sat up and pulled you close "Come cuddle with me darling" You scooted close and settled in bed with him, ready to finally feel safe in someones arms. 

-------------------------------------------------------

Thats it tysm for reading!

@fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @moxvalley @jazzy-tzw @brookethegamer @writinglionqueen

[anandabrat]

Nightmare Warehouse, day 12 - I saw @starshipblueberry yesterday at a Halloween party, and I grabbed her arm in the middle of everything and said, "Tomorrow is -"

And she grinned and nodded and said, "THE day!"

Enjoy The Day!

They meet again on the graveyard hilltop, the one that seems eternally bathed in moonlight. 

“No,” Helena says, firmly. “This is not the right place. It’s too exposed. Nothing wants to be born here.”

Sally nods. "I might know a spot."

Sally scoots over and pats the space next to her on the sleigh. Jack unfolds like a spider and crawls in, and Helena curls into the space left under Myka's arm. Zero yaps and rides out in front. Santa stands and holds tightly to the back. 

"Myka?" It's Jack's voice, always, now, but Helena's lilt at the end of her name.

"Mmm?" It takes two hands and some concentration to guide the reindeer. They are skittish in this world, or maybe every world.

"If you can't… I understand if this is not something you can do. If you need to step aside. This is not your child. And I realized I've hijacked one story, or possibly two."

"No, she's not my child." 

Helena winces, waiting for what's to follow.

"But I can see that this is maybe the only world where this is possible. I'm here with you for that possibility. And for… for whoever we are to each other. Might be, to each other."

Helena simply nods, and tucks her bony skull into the soft place under Myka's ear. Sally hands Jack one of the reins.

***

The place, when they reach it, makes Jack gape.

"Sally? Have you…?"

Sally shrugs. Her smile is sly and cheeky. "The tower room isn't very cozy."

Set into a gulley, the structure looks as if a beaver dam was constructed almost entirely of fabric. Yarn-covered sticks poke up at odd angles. Quilts covered with leaves line the domed surface. Sally lifts up a heavy brocade curtain to reveal the simple room hidden behind.

Inside, it smells like moss and loam and something faintly herbal. It's surprisingly warm. Rounded stones, poked into the soft dirt the ancient river left in its stead, make up what’s visible of the floor. More quilts, thrown onto pillows, cover most of the surface.

Helena nods gratefully. "Thank you, Sally." She sinks onto a cushion.

Santa stands in the center. "Are you ready to start? This begins with you, Helena." He holds out his toy bag towards her.

What Helena pulls out hand over hand is slightly grayed, but even so, the sight of it makes her still. "Is this…? I asked for this so long ago." Her thumb and index finger pinch an edge and worry it gently.

Santa's smile is cheeky. "You can't hide anything from Santa, Helena. If you dug around deeper, you might even find the helium tank."

Helena hands the fabric over to Sally, her cheeks wet. Sally shakes it out, appraisingly.

The hum of the sewing machine should be dampened by the layers of fabric that line the room. Instead, it fills the space, gradually, until the room itself thrums like a beehive.

Helena and Jack assemble Christina on the floor. When all the pieces are in their place, they stare. 

"How did that happen?" Helena whispers. It's inaudible over the honeyed humming, but that hardly matters.

"Not to worry," Jack replies, pulling at his chest, filling in the missing rib. "I can share."

Sally turns her work inside out. So complicated compared to her pattern, with all the tiny toes. 

You remembered the nose, right? Myka's concern makes Sally chuckle.

Of course. And the ears, and eyelids.

They lay the silk out like a sleeping bag, then tuck in the bones. They gather the leaves scattered on the floor and stuff them in the empty spaces. 

Helena sews up the center seam herself. "Like a belly button," she whispers. 

Sally's hand reaches out to stay Helena’s, just before she closes the body up. "Wait," she says, picking open a seam on her wrist, plucking out a single leaf. "For luck," she says, kissing it, pushing it into the ribcage with a crinkle. 

Everyone looks at Helena expectantly. "The doctor," she explains, "has for this phase many charts, with voltage and pressure points. He waited for a storm to do his magic for him. And don’t have that equipment, or the luxury of time, either."

"But I have a feeling," she continues, not looking away from the figure lying prone in front of her, "that children in both worlds are made more similarly than we might have supposed at first glance."

"After all, are children not born of the dreams of their parents?" She runs her fingers along the silk skin.

"Are they not of our bodies," and she touches where Jack's rib is no longer, "and of the earth?" Sally, holding her wrist closes, nods to herself.

"And most importantly of all, they must wish for themselves to come into being." Helena leans down and whispers something straight into the silk ear. Nobody else can tell exactly what's said, but they can hear the tone of a mother gently waking a sleeping child.

But the child does not stir.

Helena whispers again.

The child remains still.

Helena rocks back into her heels. Her voice is quiet, barely audible above the hum. Quiet, and broken. "So there's something missing, after all. I was certain I could call her back but - but there's nothing. This isn’t her. This is just a doll, a grotesquerie, a horror. And I helped make it." 

"Perhaps," she says, her voice rising to a panicked wail, "perhaps none of it is enough, after all."

Myka crumples up next to her, her arm out for Helena's shoulder. Helena flinches away violently and Myka draws her hand back. 

The curtain flies open then, and a figure stands illuminated in the doorway.

"What? Did you think you'd just slip this by me?" roars the voice, too loud for the space. Deep, and full of rage. "You can't make a dupe out of me!"

Jack rises and folds his arms across his chest. Sally's mouth is set in a hard line. 

Pete grins like an idiot, and waves. "Oh hey, Artie! You got out! What's up, my man?"

But Oogie ignores him. Steve, Claudia and Leena huddle behind Artie in a cluster, barely showing around the mass of squirming burlap.

"I can't believe you didn't think to ask me about this first, you idiots," Artie says. 

Myka's ready for the hammer blow, for fire and brimstone and suspensions at minimum, but instead his eyes are filled with fear.

"Tell me," he says, still too loud, "tell me you didn't put anything alive in there."

Helena blinks. "What?"

"This poor bag of bugs is completely insane, and who could blame him," Artie growls. “I can hear them,” he gestures to himself, “every single one of them, and all they want is a bigger hive and more friends. Whoever made him is a monster. Tell me, Agent Wells. Tell me you did not do that to your child. Because if that’s what it takes, it’s not worth it.”

Helena shakes her head. "She is leaves and bones. Leaves, bones, and… love,” she adds, choking on the word. “But no life."

He squints. “And a lot of silk.”

Helena nods, miserably.

“Did you give her breath?” a small voice asks from behind the towering figure of Artie.

Everyone turns. Lock, Shock and Barrel stand forgotten in the doorway. Barrel takes off his mask. “You know,” Leena says, “just to get her started. Isn’t that the first thing a baby does, when they’re born?”

Jack grins. “Not in our world. But this is something new.” 

He bends down and blows, then frowns. “I don’t think I have a breath. Or lungs,” Helena adds.

Santa tries next. “I’m not from here, after all,” he points out. But the child lies still.

A tear rolls down Helena’s cheek. Jack wipes it away and hugs himself.

Silence falls among the group.

Then Sally blinks once, twice, and cocks her head. “Shh,” she murmurs. Then - “Helena, we have to move her outside.”

“But -” Helena starts, “but she’s so… I don’t know if I can bear to - ”

Jack reaches down long arms. “Come on, little one, up we go.”

Sally leads the way, out the door, around the outside of her sanctuary. “Here,” she directs, when they come to a clearing in a stand of dead trees. “Right here.”

“Now back up. All the way to the treeline.” Myka waves her hand once, dismissively. “We need space.”

Myka sinks down to her knees, next to the shining, silken body. She closes her eyes and listens.

Ready? 

Ready.

A wind whistles through the forest. Leaves rustle, then begin to fall from the trees. They rain down on the figures in the clearing, then begin to spin, whip around. The sound is incredible, like a thousand rain sticks, like a hurricane. Like blood rushing through veins.

Myka and Sally sit perfectly still, eyes closed.

Sally leans down, her lips an inch away. Myka draws the wind into their body.

They breathe out.

The wind ceases immediately. The leaves fall in one swift shower, carpeting the clearing.

Something rustles.

The world holds its breath.

Christina sits up.

A strangled sob echoes into the clearing. A spidery figure flies into the center, barely skimming the ground.

Myka sits back. Helena skids on her knees to a stop in front of Christina. 

“Darling? It’s me - but I must look - are you - ” Helena’s voice is tremulous, full of wonder, as tight with tension as a piano string.

“Mum!” Christina shrieks, and throws her arms heedless around Helena laughing, laughing, and one final wind wails through the forest, carrying the leaves away, bringing the faint scent of apple and cinnamon.