#finaelfright

Alexa must realize, at some point, that meeting one alien means you’re more likely to meet others. Today she had the good fortune of meeting one that was far more benevolent than the previous two iterations she had encountered.

Sleeper approached in the guise of a cat, having just chased down a mouse. He padded over to her, four eyes locked on her even as he slurped down his treat. He recognized the marking on her face, faint as it was. A memory from the kree he had once been hosted to. A hunter.

     "Yᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, I think it's possible we almost met 'fore we did."

     The light tap-tap of the keyboard comes to a halt as he leans back, thinking, watching her and her coffee mug, hair bright in the light and wild over her shoulders, and the fondness at the view that expands in his chest is nearly unbearable, so he attempts to hide himself for a second behind his own mug, only to find that apparently his coffee evaporated while he was working. Or he just doesn't remember drinking it; there's only ever two moods he has when writing anything, and that are a total focus that ignores the rest of the world, or letting his thoughts drift way too far. Option A faded into B here, which is how he came to think of it.

With a violent and insistent swipe, Lucas snatches the stocking out of his sister’s hand, holding it as far away as possible. What is it with her and gettin’ into his stuff? 

“That’s mine and you damn well know it!” He fires back, taking a peak inside. Sure enough, there’s a nice bag of skittles nestled down in the fabric between some chestnuts. Who the fuck wants nuts for Christmas? The old man? Sure as shit sounds like something that he put in there. The gun is obviously from him too. “Momma always gives me skittles... You can keep that there gun. I already have one anyways.” 

He doesn’t, but Zoe doesn’t know that and it don’t matter. He’s always been more of a knife guy himself but his father loves to have a bunch of guns around the property just in case. What the hell he’s waiting for with em’, Lucas doesn’t know. Ain’t nobody gonna try to rob this dump. 

ᵐᶦˢᶜʳᵉᵃⁿᵗ        ᵖᵉʳᶜʰᵉᵈ        ᵃᵗᵒᵖ        ᵇᵃᶦˡᶦʷᶦᶜᵏ        ,        ᵐᵒⁿᵃʳᶜʰ        ,        ᵃ        ᵏᶦⁿᵍ        ,                ᵖᵒᵗᵉⁿᵗᵃᵗᵉ        ᵒᶠ        ᶜᵉˡᵉˢᵗᶦᵃˡ        ˡᵃⁿᵈ        .        ᵇᵃˡᵉᶠᵘˡ        ʳᵒᵃʳ        ,        ᵛᵒᶜᶦᶠᵉʳᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ        ᵗᵒ        ᵉˡᵈᵉʳˢ        ᵃᵇᵒᵛᵉ        .         ʰᵉᵃʳ        ᵐᵉ        .        ʲᵘᵛᵉⁿᶦˡᵉ        ʷᵃʳʳᶦᵒʳ        ᵃʳᵈᵉⁿᵗ        ᵗᵒ        ᵉˣʰᶦᵇᶦᵗ        ʰᶦˢ        ʷᵒʳᵗʰ        ,        ˢᵘᶜʰ        ᵃᶜᶜˡᵃᶦᵐ        ᵒⁿᵉ        ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ        ᵒⁿˡʸ        ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ        ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉᶦᵗ       .         ᶠᵒᶜᵘˢ        ᶜᵃˢᵗᵉᵈ        ᵘᵖᵒⁿ        ˢʰᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ        ˢᵏʸ        ,        ᶦⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ        ᵇʸ         ˢʰᵉᵃᵗʰᵉᵈ        ᵇˡᵃᵈᵉˢ        ,        ʰᵉˡᵐ        ᵒᵇˡᶦᵠᵘᵉ        ,        ᶦⁿᶜᶦˢᶦᵛᵉ        ᵃᵈᵐᶦʳᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ        ᵒᶠ         ᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗᶦᶜᵃˡ        ᶜʳᵃᶠᵗ         .        ᵇᵒⁿᵉ        ᵍʳᶦⁿᵈˢ        ‘ᵍᵃᶦⁿˢᵗ         ˢᵗʳᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ        ᵈᶦᵍᶦᵗˢ        ,        ᵃʳᵐˢ        ᵒᵘᵗˢᵗʳᵉᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ        ,        ˡᶦᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ        ʰᵘˢᵏ        ˢᵗᵃʳᶦⁿᵍ        ᵇᵉᵃˢᵗ        ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ        ᵇᵃᶜᵏ        .        ᵒⁿᶜᵉ        ᵐᵒʳᵉ        ,        ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈᶜᵘʳᵈˡᶦⁿᵍ        ˢᶜʳᵉᵉᶜʰ        ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉˢ        ᵗʰᵉ        ʰᵘⁿᵗᵉʳ        .        ˢᵏᵘˡˡ        ᶜᶦⁿᶜʰᶦⁿᵍ        ᶠᶦʳᵐ        ᵗᵒ        ʰᶦˢ        ᵇᵉˡᵗ       

@finaelfright​ :  if u bite bev she'll bite u back

     Yᴇᴀʜ, ʜᴇ's hearing that, alright, but he's still just gonna —

“Well, damn.” Rick exclaims, lunch tray in both hands and a feigned look of shock on his handsome features. 

The red gargoyle frowns a bit at first, but then spoke of his clan leader with pride and a smile.

“No one could be a better leader than Goliath; I know I’ll have to take his place someday, but...I don’t think I could live up to that. How he leads, I mean. But he chose me as his second in command. So that must mean he knows I’ll do it okay.