#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 😭😭😭😭

[missmoonfrost]

You're scared of me - a wolfstar short fic

Written for @wolfstarmicrofic and the prompt: The Forbidden Forest. But once again I failed to limit the word count to 1k...

Remus wakes up panting, with an acute sense of something being wrong. There is the familiar ache and nausea after the transformation. He is freezing cold. The wind blows around him and he reaches out after a blanket or something to cover himself with. His hands grab pine needles and damp moss. His eyes jolt open. This is not the shack.

He is alone in The Forbidden Forest. Completely bare under a leather jacket, spread over him like a blanket. Sirius’ jacket. As if that wouldn’t be enough to worry about, he has a gnawing feeling there is something more. Something worse.

He tries to sit up but doesn’t get far before a sharp pain in his back stops him. He manages to heave up on one elbow and get a look around. He doesn’t recognise it, as far as he knows he could be in the middle of nowhere.  There is a pile of fir twigs and dry grass underneath him and the canopy of brushwood shielding him has been enhanced with dense branches. Someone has built him shelter.

He hears the rustling of something big approaching. Fear overcomes the pain. Fire shoots through his back as he turns towards the sound. The sight of large teeth and dark fur makes his heart stop. He scrambles backwards before he realises it’s Padfoot. Relief floods him and with a big exhale he collapses down onto the little nest.

Padfoot yaps happily, lets go of the mouthful of branches he has been dragging along and immediately cuddles close to Remus, licking him and brushing his head against his body. Remus closes his eyes and weakly lays his arms around Padfoot. The dog presses his warm furry body against him. With a moment of concentrated stillness, he turns into Sirius.

“It’s okay”, he murmurs, “I’m here. You’re here. You’re awake. It’s going to be okay.”

Remus tightens his grip and buries his face against Sirius' shoulder.

“What happened?”

The tension in Sirius' chest and the fraction of a second longer than expected before he answers is enough for Remus to know. He has done something terrible.

“There were hikers in the woods. Muggles.”

Remus sits up despite the pain and pinches his eyes closed as hard as he can. No. Anything but that. Not biting some innocent soul and condemning them to this hellish fate.

“It’s okay.” Sirius hands rubs his back.

“It’s not okay!”

Sirius sighs and continues rubbing Remus' back in big calm circles.

“Did I…” Remus manages after a moment.

“You didn’t bite anyone. But they saw you. James and Peter stayed to calm things over. I chased you away.”

“Thank you.”

The wolf’s memory is always fussy, but Remus thinks he can recall the dog bouncing around, inviting him to play. The wolf usually likes that. But this time the dog had annoyed him and got in his way. He had been hunting something, trying to follow a scent.

That thought has him cold to his bones.

But the dog had not let him finish his hunt. It had lounged itself at him until he’d snapped at it and chased after it instead.

Remus puts his hand before his mouth. “Did I hurt you?”

“No”, Sirius reassures and tugs the sleeve of his T-shirt to cover something, “not much.”

“Let me see!”

Sirius rolls his eyes and holds his arm out. It’s a slash of claws, running down half his upper arm. The blood has dried, but there is the tell-tale shimmering tint of a magic wound. His claws made this.

“See? It’s nothing.”

“I could have bit you”, Remus gasps. The trees start spinning around him. Sirius, a damned werewolf because of him.

Sirius gently puts his arms around Remus back again, but he brushes him of.

“I could have bit you, Sirius!”

“But you didn’t.” Sirius looks into Remus' eyes and when Remus franticly looks around, Sirius moves his head catching his gaze again and holding it firm. “Hey! You didn’t.”

Remus is lightheaded and nauseous and feels like he is drowning. If he is going to drown anyway, he can as well drown in these caring honest silver eyes.

“Breath”, Sirius reminds him.

Remus takes a deep breath, and then another. The trees stop spinning. Sirius moves his hand as if to touch Remus’ back again, but then stops as if to ask permission. Remus can’t find the words but leans into his touch. Sirius' arms gently wrap around him. The warmth of the closeness is welcome in the cold. Remus lays his arms around Sirius' back as well. The smell in the crook of Sirius' neck is comforting. His steady breaths are soothing. His raven hair tickling Remus' cheek is uplifting.

Too soon Sirius draws back and looks examining at him.

“Can you walk?”

Remus tries to straighten up and the pain in his back returns. With a deep breath, he pushes through it and stands, only to tumble forward and get caught by Sirius in the last second.

“No. My back. It’s too much.”

“I would heal you, but my wand is still in the shack.”

The thought of Sirius leaving him here has his breath catch in panic.

“I’ll stay here with you”, Sirius reassures. “Everything will be all right.”

“How, though?”

“They will find us.”

“And do what? I am supposed to stay in the shack. They are going to expel me! They are going to put me in Azkaban!”

“Shh, calm down. We’ll figure it out.”

Remus closes his eyes and tries his best to calm down. Tries to focus on Sirius' voice, breaths, and heartbeats.

As he shifts closer to Sirius the breaths become irregular and the heartbeats speed up. For a moment Remus is confused, but then it dawns on him.

“You’re scared of me.”

Sirius scoffs. “No, I’m not.”

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Yeah?” The drumming speeds up even more as well as Sirius' breath and he wets his lips.

“It’s okay.” Remus lets go of him and rolls over on the other side. “I realise it was scary. I was scary. You don’t have to pretend you like me. I am a monster after all.”

Sirius sits up. “You are not a monster. And you don’t realise how much I like you at all.”

Remus draws further away. “Keep saying that. I can still hear your heartbeat.”

Sirius' hand lands on his shoulder but he shrugs him off.

Sirius lets out a deep shaky breath and says in a small trembling voice. “Is that really so strange? Of course, my heart speeds up when I’m near you, you’re… Moony, you’re beautiful. And kind of naked. I like being near you.“

His heartbeats are faster than ever now, but other than that he doesn’t move. Remus rolls over to face him and sees him sitting with his hands clenched in his lap, cheeks flushed and eyes firmly set on the ground.

Remus slowly sits up and leans forward to try to catch Sirius eye.

“You… really?”

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know how I can think of that when you're hurt, and we’re out here, and you just went through a big trauma. But believe me, it’s not because I’m scared.

For a long moment, Remus just sits there and marvels at the thought. Sirius Black, his friend and saviour, is attracted to him. Is he supposed to think that is weird? Sirius sure acts it is as if it’s something bad. It doesn’t feel bad. Not bad at all. Does that mean he is weird as well? Does that mean his fondness and adoration for Sirius is something it shouldn’t be?

That is too much to think about. All he knows is that Sirius' presence feels like a lifebuoy keeping him afloat. For now, that is enough.

Remus reaches a hand out and gently strokes Sirius' arm, from the shoulder down to the fingertips, and takes his hand. Sirius looks up with a questioning expression. Remus smiles, scoots closer and rests his head on Sirius' shoulder. Sirius puts Remus' hand in his other one, careful to never lose the grip, and throws his arm around Remus' back.

For the longest time, they just held each other, trying to stay as close as possible. When there’s a rustle in the bushes Sirius jolts and springs to his feet.

“There you are.” James relieved voice cuts through the branches. “Peter is distracting Madam Pomfrey, but we need to hurry back. Are you hurt?”

[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.

[disappointedcreeper]

pfp by @achillez-on-pawz

DO NOT SEND US ASKS ABOUT YOUR FUNDRAISER, IF YOU WANT US TO REBLOG YOUR FUNDRAISER POST TAG US IN IT, OTHERWISE WE WILL IGNORE IT

Welcome to our blog! Dunno how to transition into it so I'll put our intros below. (BTW we haven't figured out many defining traits to differentiate each other yet)

Blue (the one writing this :3) they/them, the host (meaning I'll be fronting most of the time)

Moss: She/her, she likes saying hi. (Hehe can't wait for them to see this >:3 -blue) (lol -moss)

Leaf: they/them, introject of a Undertale/Deltarune oc that is basically the player with more backstory and whatnot (more of a character than some external force, and eventually gets a body of their own) I REALLY miss the people I knew...

Feel free to call either of us disappointedcreeper (or some shortened variation ex: DC, creeper, etc.) We do prefer if you refer to us using out individual names (dw tho we won't be mad/upset, or I wouldn't have put this here)

Our alterhuman identities

-red fox theriotype

-dragon kintype (description here) (specifically blue btw -moss) (I'm gonna leave wording this better to you also)

-shapeshifter

DNI

homophobes, transphobes, TERFs, anti-alterhuman, etc.

NSFW blogs

don't talk to us r ask us about syscorse please. We don't want to be involved, and don't owe anyone any knowledge about our origin (if we even knew.) We don't care about origins (if that wasn't alr obvious) and if you are gonna be rude about it please just save both us and you some time and block us.

anything else should be fine as long as you aren't just here to be mean

Tags we use

#blue yaps - when blue is posting

#moss chirps - #moss yaps - when moss is posting

#❤️ - #points and hearts come out - #leaf ACTs - for when leaf is posting (used in different circumstances) (mostly when I feell like it)

#growls - vent posts

#reblogs - self explanatory

#average music fox - posts about our music

#asks - generally what we tag asks with (unless we forget)

#our art - art we made (our older stuff is tagged #my art)

#shadows over aethia - posts relating to the game were gonna make

will add more as we start using them

[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!

[demonsteapot]

Im new here, can you tell me about your oc's?

OH YEAH I CAN this is gonna be a long bitch of a post though

so there are a lot but these are probably the main eight even though i only draw like 3 of them regularly

(please forgive the half-assed sketches, i just wanted to get their designs across lol)

so the premise of this setting is that the sun (which is god) is dead and the earth is now inhabited by mindless angels and mostly humanoid demons (which may or may not be either spirits or just a human derivative). demons live in small city-states and their environs built on top of giant geothermal-harvesting living flesh networks (referred to as humans since they're derived from them)

demons on the outskirts of these places are tasked with keeping angels out. this is what most of these characters do; these eight live in or around fleur, a town in the middle of buttfuck nowhere on the easternmost point of a human kingdom named rust. five of them work for an agency (rust monitor) which scouts and euthanizes angels.

also, magic exists! the (fuzzy) system for magic is mainly based on blood. i think that's enough context so i can introduce these guys

fooling around in the top left are vivian (seated) and fran (seating?). both of them work for RM in bronya's squad, the moss-eaters. if you scroll through my art tags you will probably find that viv is unaccountably the favourite child, as it were. he loves to yap about his interests, especially to fran. he hunts bugs and angels using a combat umbrella. he died once and got resurrected after like two years by nova, which is why he is all stitched together. he has ice magic. his resurrection also may or may not count as force feminization?

fran is a foolhardy and mostly unkillable goofball. the three snakes on his head are named diogenes, gello and lettuce. he started working for RM after bronya accidentally hit him with her car. he's best friends with viv. fran is also a fan of the demon equivalent of pro wrestling, which is more violent and somehow more homoerotic than the human one, and that i can't depict because i wouldn't do it justice. he has some force magic skills, which let him do things like move comically fast and punch shit so hard it explodes. he used to fight using an axe but graduated to just using his hands. he plays the bass sometimes

the catgirl to their right is bernadette harley. she used to be friends with viv and fran, but left fran estranged after viv's death. she lives with her father estus, who used to work for RM. they do not like each other. bernadette hunts using estus's old coilgun. she mostly hunts for food, but occasionally she helps the moss-eaters out with angels or other monsters. she was cheery when she was younger and now she's not. she has a large parasite in her stomach which eats angels

top right, with the thorns on her back, is nova harley, bernadette's sister... sort of. nova also used to be friends with the previous three, but she ran away from home and now she's feral. she has an affinity for magic that deals with manipulating living flesh, and after viv's death she spent about two years reconstructing him out of various vivisected (heh...?) animals. nova is easily stressed and depressed. she hurts people sometimes but not intentionally... usually. she likes sewer slvt. she eats carrion off the asphalt, and the only living things that like her are the flies and the ravens. she also doubles as my sona for venting!

bottom left, with the gillstalks, is princess valentine phloem, or val for short. she is not in fact demon, but human– specifically, a polyp of rust that was intended to grow into the next queen regent. however, she didn't like this idea, so she chainsawed her way right out of rust's bowels and ended up in the remotest part of the kingdom– fleur, where she joined the mossies. fran likes to arm-wrestle with her, but she always wins. having lived in a fleshy, subterranean hellscape for most of her existence, she has an appreciation for life that others don't. it often seems to her friends as though she experiences twice as much world as they do.

in the bottom middle, in the maid outfit and gasmask, is mincey leyland. he lives in part of an ancient bunker complex and delivers vigilante justice when he isn't busy fucking with bronnie's squad. vivian, who mincey considers his brother, is technically a clone of him, and he wields fire magics as a counterpart to viv's ice. he carries a long-standing rivalry with his brother, though it's mostly an elaborate in-joke between them at this point. though he professes loathing for and has legitimate envy of his brother, he helped nova extensively when she rebuilt him. he hates to let his machines do his dirty work, so he prefers single combat with his enemies, with a skeletal rainshade as his favoured weapon. he also maybe stole some people's organs to help nova

bottom right, the blonde machine and the gorgon leaning on them are gato cello and bronya wormwood respectively. cello is bronnie's assistant, a heavily modified domestic android unit that had a long stint as an assassin before bronnie roped them into working for her. they are a scout unit for the mossies, but also very much the team pet. kind of an asshole. met bronnie when they were hired to kill her when she was in college. the two have an unbreakable friendship wherein they hurl insults that border abuse at each other constantly. fortunately, the rest of their teammates find this very entertaining.

finally, bronya is the field captain of the moss-eaters. she is about thirty and depressed and gay. she's a weapons hardware engineer and made most of cello's modifications, as well as a home-made pile bunker she uses to deliver the coup de grâce to wounded angels. she drives a legged squad vehicle called a scuttlebuggy (her aforementioned car), which i have never posted because i can't figure out how to make it look good. her snakes are named bleach, tara, pissboy, euterpe, princess and kyle. kyle is the dead one

anyway all of this stuff is subject to change and none of it is comprehensive. i have never had an internally consistent cast of characters or setting for very long. also, with the exception of viv, fran and nova, no one has a consistent design right now, so those are wips too.

anyway sorry for the long post i dont rant much so it all happens at once

[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

[shshshquietnow]

@moss-tombstone participated in my game for ice, trap, and creature!

Sorry that this is like. A year late.

...

Contents: fantasy whump, possibly hypothermia (more just a very cold and dangerous mountain to start), monster whumper, threats of being eaten, fearplay, about to use someone as bait for strangers

...

Perri was cold, biting cold. He was alone- alone on the Dragon Isles of all places, where a dragon could just carry him off whenever they wanted...

No, no he was safe, at least here in the snow forest. If dragons were anything like the lizards back home, they wouldn't like the cold much. And maybe he could have put in a little more research to dragons before coming... but could you blame him? The isles were full of different sorts of magic, tales and myths no one had any clues about... what sort of mage would he be if he didn't try to figure out all about magic as he could?

He pulled his fur lined hood closer to guard his face from the wind, every movement shuttery and jagged. He needed to rest... he'd die if he kept going all through the night. Perri hissed as he hit his shoulder on a tree, the pain only enhanced by the cold soreness.

There... there. There's a cave off over there, he could make a fire, at least be away from this WIND... he made his way over, sitting at the mouth of the cavern. Luckily his flint never got wet, he started a fire, leaning against the wall to hopefully sleep off the night. He'd resume his search for knowledge in the morning... there HAD to be something here. His eyes drifted closed...

When Perri next opened his eyes- rather difficult from being nearly frozen shut- he was warmer, at least. But something shook the ground. He shot up, only to be pinned down...

By a MASSIVE claw. Perri screamed, voice raw, looking up at a white nearly crystalline dragon. He was small- obviously- perfect size to fit in the hand of the ice dragon. It had piercing intelligent blue eyes, horns adorned with silver and jewels and if Perri wasn't trapped and terrified, he'd be a sight to behold definetly.

Just as Perri thought he was as good as crushed to death, the dragon... shifted. To something almost more elf looking, tall and pale with those same calculating eyes, still decorated in jewelery, still horned. The best way Perri described his manner would be like a prince. The dragon pressed his boot upon Perri's chest.

"You're a funny thing, aren't you?" The dragon man said, condescending and curious. Perri felt his skin crawl... he could tell he was no more than an interesting beetle to this man. "Please, don't be frightened. My name is Eirian. You are?"

Perri could feel his throat drying up and freezing over as he took quick shallow breaths. Dragons back home could never survive this north, and they certainly couldn't shift to be HUMANOID.

The dragon- Eirian leaned in closer, still smiling and raising an eyebrow. "If youre worried I'm going to eat you, that decision is riding on how interesting you are. Your name?"

"Perri-" the mage squeaked out, and the pressure the dragon was putting on his chest let up. "My name is Perri... what are you?! How-"

"I should be the one asking those sorts of questions-" Eirian shifted back into a dragon, white with the same calculating eyes. He picked up Perri by the ankle, dangling him upside down, making him squirm like a fish. "Do tell: are you a special species of cold adapted human, or are you just an incredibly stupid mortal to be out here by yourself?"

The researchers face burned with embarrassment, his body shaking in terror. "Please mister i don't mean- I don't want to cause any trouble or steal anything or harm you I promise, I just needed to get out of the cold before-"

"You certainly live yapping," the dragon growled, tilting it's head. "And it's been a bit since I've had any mortals around here... quite the shame. How about this."

The dragon dropped Perri onto the hard stone floor, meeting him shifted back into humanoid form at the bottom. "If i let you go, will you try to find more mortals on the isles to help you?"

Yes, but he wasnt sire what game Eirian was getting at. Perri froze, hesitantly shaking his head.

Eirian sighed dramatically. "I'm sure you'll find out soon that lying to me won't work out well for you. You look pathetic, helpless, mortals will wish to help you, yes?"

Perri bristled, not liking where this was going. He nodded though, slowly.

"All right. Then you are free to go." Eirian turned around, brushing off the confused researcher.

"What?" The word escaped his mouth before Perri could stop it.

"Mortals fish, and set traps don't they?" The dragon mused, picking his nails as if he were bored. "I hear mortals are incredibly empathetic, they see one of their own in trouble, they flock towards it to figure out what's wrong. You seem like you'd make good bait. I wasn't particularly hungry right now anyhow."

Perri's stomach sunk, twisting. "What?! No- you can't- that's cruel! You can't make me an accessory to killing other mortals!"

"What are you going to do," Eirian turned back to face him, grinning all smug. ""Ask someone to help you?"

... no no no... Perri was shaking, realizing how stuck he was. Even if he never got help getting off the mountain, what was he to do, never see a mortal again?! He took a boat manned by MORTALS to the Dragon Isles! And that was assuming he could get off the mountain without help.

Adrenaline drove him from the cave, forgetting his flint in his panic. The ice was slippery, the snow was thick, but he needed to get out.

Eirian laughed behind him,calling out as Perri ran down the mountain. "I'll be seeing you soon!"

[riddlerosehearts]

HELLOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! its idiavil anon again i m just. gonna yap abt idiavil if u dont mind. my current ideas for different idiavil fics is up to 32 and i have 10 idiavil playlists on spotify as of right now. i shocked my twst friend w that last fact. I HAVE TWO SETS OF IDIAVIL KEYCHAINS I GOT OFF OF ETSY ASW i love them os much . my friend has been working on idiavil art 4 my birthday and im super excited.... ive actuallybeen able to focus on writing recently SO I HAVE SOME DRAFTS IN FHE WORKS!!!!!!, the brainrot only grows with each passing day. i have moss in my brain. like a chia pet. ALSOO THE TWISTED TSUMDERLAND EVENT LITERALLY HAD ME IN AGONY ROLLING AROUND AND SCREAMING IM NOT EXAGGERATING. LIKE HELLO GUYS WAKE UP NEW IDIAVIL CANON INTERACTIOSN JUST DROPPED. MY FRIEND LET ME INFODUMP TO HER SOMEXLAST NIGHT AND EVERY TIME I MENTIONED THEM I WOULD START TEARING UP 😭😭 also also ive been getting back into drawing and i have idia and idiavil doodles literally everywhere. the grind DOES NOT STOP. ok thats it ive just been in agony since my creativity stats are like maxxed tf out rn.......... AS ALWAYS I LOVE UR BLOG AND MERRY EARLY CHRISTMAS ASW!!!!!!

ANON IT IS ALWAYS OKAY TO YAP ABOUT IDIAVIL TO ME!! i still don't post about them enough but trust me i think about them a lot... i wish i had the creativity and drive to write fics haha, i've had ideas about all my favorite twst ships bouncing around in my brain for a long time but i'm not good at putting things into words and i'm always working on other projects! i don't know if wicked is something you're familiar with or interested in but i saw the stage musical live back in april (for the first time ever lol!! i've had an over a decade-long obsession fueled only by collecting bootleg recordings of it until this year!), and then just saw the movie earlier, and lately every time i think about wicked i think about vil and idia. if i could, i would love to write a wicked AU for them that follows the general plot/themes of the musical but ultimately still gives them a happy ending and i'm constantly torn between two different ideas for who to cast as fiyero and how exactly to do it since i'd be casting vil as glinda and idia as elphaba and making them end up together in my AU. i could go on about it BUT since you literally did not ask, i won't!! i would also just love to put them in a hercules AU if that hasn't already been done because i need people to understand my vision here. like they literally canonically recreated the scene where hercules saved meg from the underworld in the movie. genuinely how many other twst ships have something like that?? vil RISKED HIS LIFE and GAVE UP HIS YOUTH so that he could JUMP INTO THE FUCKING UNDERWORLD and BRING IDIA BACK. LISTEN--

OKAY ANYWAY! i did take a look at the fic ideas you shared when you came off anon before, i don't know if you saw the silly rambling tags i left on your post but i loved all of your ideas and omg i love that you have 10 playlists for them?! i won't ask you to share the playlists but i think it's so cool that you've put that many together and i'm curious about what kinds of songs you think fit them best! i'd also love to see the keychains but i don't think tumblr lets you send images on anon so you don't have to haha! i have these enamel pins of the dorm leaders (all except leona and malleus, but i might get those two someday as well) and i specifically keep vil and idia next to each other on my corkboard, like this:

(those are almost all pins of different JRPGs above them. idia would love my pin/keychain/button corkboard ASKJGHDF)

ALSO YESSSS I WAS SO HAPPY TO SEE IDIA AND VIL INTERACTING AGAIN IN THE TSUM EVENT. THEIR BANTER IS SO FUNNY EVERY TIME. and omg is your birthday coming up?! if so then happy early birthday, and merry early christmas to you too!! 💖

[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.

[itzmoss]

my pc caught fire .....

my dad had to bring it outside

its smells so bad in here

THERE WAS NO WARNING EITHER

nothing was indicating it was overheating or anything

there was NOTHING

it just suddenly sparked and started smoking out of no where

my dads gonna figure out like a refund or smth 😭

[mossdoesartshit]

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! This is my art blog, if you see my main assume it a husk of a shell i just reblog shit there IJNGDFIJN its so cluttered... dear lordt..

i am 21 years old, so i will be swearing. oops. sorry to anyone who is bothered by it and has been jumpscared by it but yk. -MASTERPOSTS- Sinner Adam inktober

Socials In here! Linktree main tags!

moss art - used to be “my art”, but i wanted something a bit more unique so moss talks - whenever i yap with no art attached. moss’ art requests - whenever i have art requests going on! (current status: not taking requests, i still have two i need to finish) moss asks - asks that have been sent to me and that ive answered! moss masterpost - masterposts if you wanna find em. i try to keep them squinched down as much as i can? under keep readings and stuff like that

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!

[the-determined-sparks-au]

Chapter 3

Previous ao3

Flickerpaw looked thoughtful, clearly taking his duties as guide serisouly. “You know the Highrock already,” he flicked his fox-red tail over to the big, smooth rock, “Bishop Blizzardstorm always adresses the Kingdom from there. Her den is down there,” lifting his nose to point towards a hollow in the side of the Highrock, lichen hanging over the entace, sheltering the Bishop’s nest from wind and rain, “Her den was carved out many moons ago by an anceint stream. The only ones allow in beside her is her Attendant, her mate if she had one and her Rosetteanthem, because she is her kit,”

“What’s an Attendant?” Blazepaw asked.

“An Attendant is a Bishop’s second in command, aiding them in their tasks and will perform their duties if the Bishop is ill, injured or unable to perform their duties for any other reason,” Flickerpaw nods his head to the gray molly with the red scaled tail who was organizing some felis into groups for hunting and patrolling, “and they would die for the Bishop if needed to. Rosetail is Bishop Blizzardstorm’s Attendant,” he then puffs up his chest, “And my mother,”

With that, Flickerpaw beckons towards a grassy clearing surrounded by ferns of all sides, except for where a rock that was split down the middle by a large crack, sits. Two felis were there, mumbling over a pile of what looked like herbs. The older one was a tom, with silver fur marked by teal-gold scales along his belly and yellow horns, “Now, what can we give to Nettlebreeze to soothe his toothache,”

“Alder bark,” the younger one mews out, a small black tortoishell molly with spalshes of red scales and a white chest, “Chewing it will soothe his teeth, I can give him some now Featherwhisker,”

“You go do that, Spottedpaw,” Featherwhisker smiles, “I’m going to make sure we have enough blackberry leaves...the bees will be coming soon and with how Dust is...I just know some kits are going to get stung,”

Spottedpaw chuckles and turns, but blinks at the sight of Flickerpaw and Blazepaw, “Oh! Flickerpaw...and the new Apprentice,” she steps forward, taking a sniff out of Blazepaw and scrunches her nose, “Ugh..she smells worse than a Orc...I am so glad that I sleep here...I feel sorry for you, Brindlepaw and Tigerpaw for having to share a den with that stench,”

Blazepaw hisses, lips curling and wanting nothing more to ram her black horns into the other molly when Featherwhisker walked over, “Spottedpaw,” he gently warns, “As a Soothepurr apprentice, I expect you to be a little more welcoming to the newcomer,” he turns his yellow eyes at Blazepaw, “Welcome to Thundergrowth, don’t mind Spottedpaw, I think she just snappy because she just had to deal with Sheepear awhile ago,”

“That is understandable,” Flickerpaw stated, “Who wouldn’t have a furball stuck somewhere after dealing with that bad-tempered tom,”

Spottedpaw spat crossly at him, but picks up the alder bark and trotted away. Featherwhisker shakes his head, “Now away the both of you,” he flicker his tail, a lively glimmer in his yellow eyes, “How am I able to work with you two yapping about,”

“Sorry Featherwhisker,” Flickerpaw apologizes before leading Blazepaw away towards a massive tangle of bushes that was a few paces away from the Highrock, “This the General Den, where the Warriors and Crafters sleep,” Blazepaw crouches, where she could see a sheltred space inside filled with moss and fur. “The senior members of Thundergrowth sleep nearest the center, where its warmest. Once we earn our full Kingdom name this will be where we sleep, but for now its best to stay away from it unless our mentor calls us over,”

Blazepaw quickly sat up, feeling her skin flush underneath her fur as it bushes up in embarammnet. Flickerpaw’s whiskers twitched in amusemnt and she huffs, “you said Warriors and Crafters sleep there, but Thrushcloud mention Monarchs and Caretakers? Where do they sleep?”

“Oh in the nursery. The Monarchs, well thats only a temporary duties, they are just given that rank when they are expecting or caring for kits. Caretakers are those who take care of the Monarchs and the kits. They also care for orphan kits that are found on the territory,”

“Wait...that actually happens?” Blazepaw asked and Flickerpaw nodded his head.

“More than you think, though it hasn’t happen for Thundergrowth in awhile. Besides the Coaltions and Drifters, the Kingdoms are the most stable structure in Gatali. Its not surprising that felis who live alone would want their kits to have a better chance of life. So finding Foundlings alone on our territories is completely normal for the Kingdoms, and that why we have the Caretaker rank, they care for the little ones, rasing them to be a member of the Kingdom,”

“So...Warrior, Crafter, Monarch, Caretaker, Attendant...Bishop,” Blazepaw mutters out, trying to remember the ranks of Thundergrowth, “Is there anymore?”

“There is the Elder rank, they have their own place on the other side of the camp. I’ll introduce you!” trotting after Flickerpaw across the clearing, they stopped beside a fallen tree that shelted a patch of lush grass. Sheltered among the soft greenery, were three elders, one of them was the ragged ginger tom with white scales that spoke up for her. Both of his eyes were a cloudly white, his whole body covered in scars and even one of his brown horns were broken, showing his harsh life of battles. All three of them were tucking into a plump rabbit.

“This is Sheepear, Weedwhisker and Nettlebreeze,” Flickerpaw whispered, “Nettlebreeze is the oldest felis in Thundergrowth, he was an warrior during the time of the Deranged Bishop,” Blazepaw’s ear flick at that, and she stared at the old tom, now wondering if he got some of those scars from fighting against the Sentires of the Hearth, “Once you reach your fourth year of service for the Kingdom, you can apply for it, though many wait longer, do more years...but its still a very respected rank,” the tone in his voice was firm, as if he was trying to make Blazepaw understood. She nodded her head and Flickerpaw sigh, “Its our jobs as apprentices to catch fresh-kill for them and to attend to their need, which includes changing their bedding,” and both him and Blazepaw scrunch up their noises at that, “and getting rid of fleas and ticks,”

“You keep that up young one, I’ll make sure Sparrowsong gives you Elder Duty for a moon,” the old tom wheezes, looking over at the two of them with his cloudly eyes, “So...this is our new apprentice, Blazepaw is it?”

“Yes sir,” Blazepaw mew and nodded her head politely, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it. But the other tom, who looked like Neetlebreeze but with pale ginger fur smiles softly at her.

“Welcome to Thundergrowth, young Blazepaw,” he smiles at her, his yellow eyes shining with warmth, “I never imagine a Felis from the Ruins joining the Kingdom, but I think I can see what our Bishop sees in you. I can’t wait to see you flourish,” a purr erupted from Blazepaw’s throat, but then her fur prickles as her stomach growls, “Haven’t eaten yet have you?”

“No sir...i was too nervous to eat this morning,” Blazepaw admitted. And it was true, no matter how much her mother had urge her to eat a few stripes of duck or rabbit, Blazepaw had been so nervous about being turn away, she felt like she would had thrown it all up.

“Well there is enough to go around,” he smiles at the two, “with Spring here now, and Tigerpaw and Brindlepaw turning into fine hunters. Would you mind if these fledglings shared a mouse, Nettlebreeze,”

“Of course not, Weedwhisker” Nettlebreeze croaks out, “Help yourself,”

Weedwhisker turns his gaze to the gray tom, who Blazepaw noticed was glaring at her, “Sheepear?”

Sheepear curls his lips, showing his sharp teeth and hisses, “Fine...but I hope she learns that this is the only freebie that she gets. Full stomach are earned from hard work and blood,” Blazepaw takes a step back at this, while Nettlebreeze sighs, shaking his head.

“Thank you,” Flickerpaw quickly mewed, stepping forward and taking a small boar from the pile of prey, dropping it at Blazepaw’s feet. Nodding her head in thanks, Blazepaw crouched down, and took a large bite from the boar, purring at the juicy and tender flesh that sang with the flavors of the forest. It was so much different from the rabbits and ducks that the farmers raise. Flickerpaw sat down beside her, bending down to take a bite as well. The two apprentices kept quiet, quickly eating as they listen to the elders speak.

“I still think this is a bad idea, allowing a Ruindweller to join us,” Sheepear mutters, making Blazepaw flinch as he not so subtly glares at her, “Our ancestors from the Startrail will be looking down at us in disappointment.”

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” Nettlebreeze mutters under his breath, “I know some Felis who I would love nothing more than to have them disappointed in me,”

“What’s the Startrail?” the elders turn to Blazepaw, the ginger and black scaled molly blinking up at them.

“What’s the Startrail?!” Sheepear retorted, “I know you Ruindwellers have different ideas about the Gods but I never thought you lot wouldn’t know about Lady Nocta’s Startrail!”

“Easy Sheepear,” Weedwhisker laughs, “As you said, those from the Ruins have different beliefs on our Gods,” Sheepear snorted but Blazepaw frowns, the tip of her tail twitching as her ears pinned. “Now, the Startrail...was a promise that Lady Nocta gave to Blazing Shimmer,”

“Blazing Shimmer?” Blazepaw whispers, her eyes lit up as she listen to what the elders were speaking.

“Yes...long before we came to the Strath, the four Kingdoms were once one, we were once known as the StoneLake Kingdom” Weedwhisker gently revealed, smiling a bit at her, “for we once lived by a grand lake that consisted by wooldlands and a moorland, large enough to hold the many Felis that once called it home. It was also home to Lady Nocta herself, she claimed the tunnels underneath the Lake as her own. But…” at this he whispers looking up at the rising stars as if afraid that Lady Nocta would hear him, “at the time, she was not kind to the Stonelake Felis...for a King, by the name of Howl Stone lead a futile attack on her, thinking himself better than the Goddess...he nor his men were able to kill her...but he did wound him,”

“How?” Blazepaw gasps, eyes widen, “How can you wound a Goddess...and Lady Nocta herself?”

“You wound the heart,” Sheepear rasped, licking a paw, “Lady Nocta at the time laid two eggs, and under the orders of Howl Stone, the Sharpclaws were able to destroy one of them. Her rageful cries of agony and grief echo through the tunnels, and to ensure that Lady Nocta wouldn’t destroy them all, Howl Stone made a promise… that he and his family would run through the tunnels, and she shall hunt them. If they escape from her, they are allow to live...if they are caught by her fangs...she eats them,”

“That’s...a bit cruel,” Blazepaw whispers but Nettlebreeze smiles.

“A grieving mother is cruel to those who hurt their children,” he muses, “But, the descendants of Howl Stone...had a ploy...they trick her. They made the run a rite of passage for the graduating Sharpclaws. Before they could take the mantle, they will run through the tunnels...with the higher family rubbing against them, they smelled like they were descendants of Howl Stone...and it was like that for years...until Blazing Shimmer came to be. She had been a Sharpclaw to be and went through the rite herself...but unlike the others who walked the same path as her, she discovered the truth,”

“How?” Blazepaw whispers, her eyes wide, “How did she discovered the truth?”

“By meeting Lord Mourna himself. At the time the God was still young, still under the care of his mother. The two met when Blazing Shimmer was running through the tunnels away from Lady Nocta’s angry fangs that wanted to rip her apart. While hiding the two began to talk, and Blazing Shimmer realized the truth about what the Higher Family was doing, and after the lost of her brother, Soot Shimmer, she wanted the truth out...she wanted vengeance,” Blazepaw couldn’t help the shiver that went up her spine at those worlds, but she couldn’t help but agree. If Fuligo had been killed because of some cat decided to anger one of the Gods, and then sacrifice there own people to escape the punishment, she would have been furious.

“It kinda reminds me of the stories of the Bolt Coalition...about how Liege Zeus started only caring about himself and his children...becoming indifferent and then cruel to the cats who he was suppose to look after,” Blazepaw thought, thinking of the Lost Coalition, but she turn back to the elders to listen to the story.

“It took many moons, whenever Blazing Shimmer had a chance, she slip back into the tunnels. But soon, she had been able to convince Lady Nocta of the trickery that the Higher Family did...and she was enraged. Not only did her show of mercy was spit upon, she had been killing innocent cats, free from the blood spill of her killed child. So...she told those who were free from the Higher Family sins to follow Blazing Shimmer, who will follow the trail of stars that go along her back to a new home, while she takes her revenge...and many did follow her….they followed through the harsh lands which killed without mercy...many did not survive but those who did reach the Strath flourish...though our ancestors did not form the Kingdoms until after Blazing Shimmer’s death...one felis that we all call The Forsaken who started gathering Felis from not only their group but from those outside...but those not with him find themselves facing his anger and rage...soon the groups found themselves fighting constantly, over prey or even the smallest of things. It was a lawless bloody time for the Strath and many felis died,”

Weedwhisker went on where Nettlebreeze took a breath, trying to catch his air, “One night when the moon was full, the felis of the strath agreed to meet at a clearing surrounded by four great oaks. They argued over stolen prey and before long claws flashed as challenging yowls filled the clearing. A terrible battle followed and soon the ground was wet with spilled blood, Blazing Shimmer being one of them. When she dropped to the ground The Forsaken’s claws stained with her blood, they found themselves bathe in moonlight as Lord Mourna came down alongside his mother. She stared at them in disappointment as her son called upon the spirits of their slain kin. No longer torn and bloodied but with fur shining like fallen stars. The survivors huddle to the ground when the spirit of Blazing Shimmer erupted into flames, becoming Lady Solta and creating the new sun that lit up the sky after the many years of darkness,”

Blazepaw blinks at this, “Blazing Shimmer became Lady Solta?” her eyes were wide in that. In the Coalitions it was believed that Lady Solta had a cycle of rebirth, that every time she burns out, she would be reborn. It kinda amazed her that the Kingdoms believed that one of their own became the Goddess of the Sun and Life. But Blazepaw kept her mouth shut, focusing on eating her food.

Sheepear eyes her, but after a moment he nodded his head, “Yes, yes she did. And as Lady Solta stood besides Lord Mourna and Lady Nocta, all three of them staring down at the huddle felis, the mortals saw a terrible vision of the future. They saw the Strath drown in blood, their kits stalk by Lord Mourna at every pawstep and they all knew that the fighting had to stop.

“Unite or die,” Nettlebreeze whispers, before he shakes his head, “that is what they were told to do. They only meant to survive but it was clear to them that they needed a guiding paw. Lady Nocta found four to be worthy, Holly Shadow, Jay River. Heather Wind and Roaring Thunder who each sought out felis with similar strengths and abilities. Jay River sound cats willing to fish for their prey. Holly Shadow gathered night time hunters with clever minds and sharp claws. Roaring Thunder found hunters who could track prey through the thickest undergrowth. To Heather Wind came the fastest runners and felis who loved the open moors. These four devoted themselves to Lady Nocta, Lord Mourna and Lady Solta, wholly, in body, mind and soul that they became the first Bishops. They laid down borders and through out the seasons created the code that which the Kingdoms to this day follow. They strike down dissent and cull down, nourishing the Kingdoms with courage and nobility. Proving themselves in the eyes of Lady Nocta and as she promised, gifting them with eight more lives,”

“The Code?”

Sheepear snorts, “You’ll learn soon enough...if you don’t go running off back into the Ruins,” Blazepaw frowns at him but at that moment Flickerpaw sat up, softly nudging her away.

“Thank you for the story,” he calls over his shoulder, “but we should get some sleep, who knows when we will be told to wake up,” Flickerpaw led her away from the Elder’s den, both ignoring the yowl Sheepear let out as Weedwhisker baps him on the head, to a thick bush of ferns that lay behind a mossy stump tree. “All the apprentices share their meals over here by this stump,” he explains as he settles besides it.

“How many apprentices are there?”

“Well besides you and me, there is Tigerpaw, but he is nearly graduated,” Flickerpaw said, “and then there’s my sisters, Spottedpaw and Brindlepaw. Spottedpaw is being train as a Soothepurr as you know but Brindlepaw is being trained as a warrior like me,” he looked a bit sad, “Not as many as we usually get, we lost a lot of kits during Nixames visit this winter...it was just so cold,” he whispers but before Blazepaw could do anything to comfort her new friend, Tigerpaw walked over, sneering down at her.

“So you did come,” he growls, his tail lashing behind him, “I can’t believe that I’m going to have to train beside you,” he huffs, his nose scrunching as if he was smelling something terrible, “I don’t know why the Bishop is doing this, it won’t be long before you run back home with your tail between your legs,”

“I suggest you be quiet Tigerpaw,” Blazepaw turns her head to see a young pale gray molly with dark blue scales on her neck and belly crawling out from beneath the ferns. Her blue eyes were glaring at the dark brown tabby, “You don’t want Voleclaw to be hearing what you’re saying about Blazepaw. I know it isn’t what we were expecting but Blazepaw is now a part of Thundergrowth,” she meowed calmly, not even flinching as Tigerpaw’s paws long claws unsheathe, digging into the earth. Blazepaw turned her head between the two, when Tigerpaw held up his head and all but stomped into the cluster of ferns.

The speckle molly shakes her head, before turning her head towards the two, “Welcome to Thundergrowth Blazepaw, I’m Brindlepaw.I suggest you two get some sleep, Sparrowsong came and told me that you two will be joining him and Rossetteanthem for a dawn patrol,” Flickerpaw groans at this, making Brindlepaw laugh before she spun around, slipping back inside.

“Great...I hate dawn patrols..” Flickerpaw whispers before he stood up, flicking his tail, “We better listen and get some sleep. Rossetteanthem may be a new warrior but she is strict. She will be so piss if we don’t wake up on time tomorrow,”

“Language!” Blazepaw heard Brindlepaw cry out as follows Flickerpaw inside. The sleeping area was covered with soft moss while the pale moonlight turned everything a delicate soft shade of green. Blazwpaw’s nose twitched as she smell the air, which was far warmer than outside but was fragrant with fern.

“Where do I sleep?” she asked, looking around.

With a snarl, Tigerpaw who was prodding with some moss with his paw snaps his head up, “Anywhere as long as it isn’t near me,”

Snorting Blazepaw walks over to where Brindlepaw and Flickerpaw was, “As if I want to sleep anywhere near you,” Brindlepaw and Flickerpaw exchanged glances, but said nothing as Blazepaw raked together a pile of moss with her claws. When she had gathered it all into a cozy nest, she circled until it was comfortable and settle down. Though, she frowned a bit, while it was comfortable it was different than her old nest, as Fuligo wasn’t by her side, their backs press against each other. Though her body still felt drowsy, so with a yawn, she settles down, slowly closing her eyes as she drifted off into sleep.

[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

[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 :>