#I call it fern or moss

[czaneavecg]

okay I have to admit I genuinely like them, there's more to come IM just too tired to draw any more rn

I have like 7 more doodles on the go but here- living kin au

[mozki]

what do u do when the name u chose urself at 16 no longer quite cuts the mustard but its what all my fwends call me and stufffff

[alithographica]

As promised, welcome to

Fun biology in TOTK’s designs

I'll keep this post updated as I go through the game. I'm going to skip the more general identifiable things like apples (they're based on apples!) because there are tons of more unusual species to talk about.

Overall, the really interesting thing I've noticed is that many of the more unique Earth-based lifeforms in TOTK are super ancient, like predating dinosaurs ancient, which is a really cool tie-in to the overall time-hopping plotline of TOTK. Specifically, they're found in the new areas (caves, depths) while the surface remains a bit more normal.

(There will be no plot spoilers in this post, and also I've barely gotten into the plot because I'm spending all my time wandering, so shhh no spoilers in the tags for like a month please.)

Most recent additions: More lilies, irises, wild ginger, spiny bones, pigeon extravaganza, plus added some more real photo comparisons to old stuff.

PLANTS

Bryophytes my beloved. Bryophytes are among the earliest land plants, waaaay predating flowers and even seeds. In our world, they’re small by necessity—they lack vascular systems to help move water around like other plants, so they have to stay small and moist (hence their frequency in caves in TOTK—though they do need some light in real life.)

In TOTK they’re quite large and I think that’s very sexy and art directors should give us big bryophytes more often

Anyway, there are three types of bryophytes: mosses, liverworts, and hornworts. First image pair is a moss, second is a liverwort. Those red-brown and palm-tree-like structures, respectively, are their reproductive structures.

Real liverwort photo © Graham Calow, NatureSpotUK

Not yet spotted: Hornworts! Did they forget the third bryophyte sister :(

I think these next guys are probably lycopods (specifically club moss, which is not a true bryophyte moss, thanks science.) Very old, but vascular, so they're a bit more evolutionarily recent than bryophytes.

Real photo © Gloria Hanley Schoenholtz, virginiawildflowers

All the enormous curly-topped trees in the depths: Ferns! They curl like that until they unfurl. Another very old plant, though younger than bryophytes and lycopods.

Real photo via The Cosmonaut, Wikipedia

Brightblooms and some of the other giant plants in the depths: Possibly based on a cycad? Again, a very ancient plant lineage. At this point, evolutionarily, they've developed seeds—that giant cone in the center is called a strobilus, and that's the seed structure.

These next few plants are angiosperms, meaning they produce flowers. Angiosperms are a more recent evolutionary lineage—still many millions of years old, but it took a while to develop flowers as a reproductive tactic.

Sundelions (left) are a fun recolor of a lily. There are also some scenery lilies (right) in various places—there are yellow ones that spring up when you turn on a lightroot (which gives them literal and thematic connection to the surface) and several other varieties, including tiger lilies, throughout Hyrule. Fun note, the sundelions appear to only have 5 stamen, while other lilies in the game (correctly) have 6. Seems to be an intentional decision to make it a more distinct fantasy species.

These next ones are Peruvian lilies/Alstroemeria, just used as a scenery plant but a very fun inclusion. Fun fact, not true lilies, so they're not deadly to cats like true lilies are.

Real photo © Dick Culbert, Wikipedia

Plum trees: These are also called out as plum trees in game! There's a journal in Kakariko that refers to the plum orchards.

Okay I'm a little proud of figuring this one out. Bomb flowers blend a few botanical references. Superficially, the fruit resembles a type of seed pod called a capsule—specifically it's very similar to a poppy capsule. The little red thing in the center is a nice addition to resemble both a flower stigma (reproductive part that leads to the ovary) and a bomb fuse. Now, poppy capsules disperse their seeds via wind, but there are other plants who do explode their seeds outwards as a dispersal tactic! This is called explosive dehiscence.

There is one tree in particular called the sandbox tree, AKA monkey-no-climb or dynamite tree (yes, really.) Their capsules look more like little pumpkins, but are known for violently exploding when ripe—they can launch seeds at 150 miles per hour (250 km/h) and spread them roughly 200 feet (60 m) away. The photo comparison is a poppy capsule but you should def go look up dynamite tree videos.

Real photo © PommeGrenade, pixabay

Fire fruits (and the other elemental fruits) grow on the same generic plant that looks kind of like it has grape leaves. Fire fruits resemble a specific botanical thing too though—the black netting is a papery calyx (part of the flower) seen in a nightshade genus, Physalis (golden berries, tomatillos, etc.)

Real photo © Helene Rogers, Alamy

I think this stuff is an Asarum, AKA wild ginger. I was actually puzzling over it until I walked past some today and went HEY

Not sure of the exact species but they're very green and heart-shaped and love being dense and low to the ground.

Real photo via David Stang, Wikipedia

Irises: Love irises, one of my favorite flowers and words, very happy to see them in game.

MISCELLANEA

Cup lichen! Lichen is not a plant, but a symbiotic structure of an algae + a fungi. Cup lichen is just a type of lichen formation that has a kind of vertical cup-like structure.

Real photo via Bernard Spragg

Geology crossover! Go look carefully at some of the whiter walls in the depths—they look like they have fossils of coral and other undersea hard-structured animals in them.

ANIMALS

Sticky lizards: Based on Diplocaulus, a very early (now extinct) amphibian! Their skulls are wacky. We're not sure whether the long sides stood out separately or were smoothly connected to the body by skin flaps, but the separate arrow-like shape is the most popular rendition.

Deep firefly: Might be a stretch because it could just be a multi-winged fantasy critter, but I think the "wings" and antennae are very reminiscent of Anomalocaris, an ancient aquatic arthropod.

Update: Other folks in the notes/tags have pointed out that they're probably based on a cryptid that's especially popular in Japan: skyfish AKA rods! They show up in photos and people think they're an alien lifeform. In reality, they're an optical blur created when a lower quality video captures intermittent flaps of an insect's wings, leaving sort of a many-winged smear in the photo. Thanks to all who left info!

Little frox: Another stretch because it totally could just be a Hinox-like frog, but every time I see the little ones I can't help but think of like...Ichthyostega, Mastodonsaurus, Eryops, and other early amphibians. They were pretty hefty—little frox size or bigger���and had with little waddling legs. This is less "I think it's definitely this" and more "it makes me happy when I picture frox as primitive amphibians."

I haven't detailed many of the scenery animals around Hyrule because most are identifiable with the camera function—it'll tell you that a certain animal is a heron or porgy, for example, and those groups are real, even though the exact species is made up. But I think the pigeons are fun because they're all crested pigeons. Pink-necked green pigeons may have also been the inspiration for the color palettes on the wood and rainbow pigeons.

Both pigeon photos via JJ Harrison, Wikipedia

Spiny bones: Not a specific critter, but those spiny bones that you can find lying around Eldin Canyon are vertebrae—possibly from the same thing that left those big rib cages around? The top spike is the spinous process where muscles attach, the littler spikes on the side are the transverse and articular processes. The dark O in the center is the spinal cord.

Also I made a friend who finally recognizes my purpose in Hyrule.

That's all I've got for now! Will add more as I keep playing.

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Eldridge/Tentacle Monster x F!Reader

Words: 2.9k Themes: Nsfw, tentacles, fictional oviposition Notes: Hi all! I'm still very sick, hence why this story is a little shorter than the others. Hopefully it's still a good morsel of ovi themes. I may circle around to it again and adjust it, or write a whole other story based on ovi to make up for the lack of words. Feedback as always is welcome!!

This was definitely the spot from your dream. 

The cave opening matched your memories perfectly. To the circular entrance, draped in vines that dripped with clear water from the waterfall nearby, to the moss that covered every inch of this place. 

The hike had been tortuous, to say the least. But seeing this cave made it all worthwhile. You weren’t going mad, after all. 

You didn’t understand how you knew this was here. Perhaps some past hike through these old woods came to the surface of your subconscious and reminded you of this splendid place.  It was beautiful. How could you have forgotten it? Your steps into the cave felt familiar and comfortable. Your shoes didn’t slip on the uneven path nor did the low hanging ceiling bump against your head as you ventured deeper. 

You could hear the gentle trickling of water somewhere further. A soft echo that seemed to call you forward and away from the light of the beautiful day outside.  You recalled there was more light inside. 

Not that you could remember how there was more light. But the memory of being able to see clearly down here was vivid enough to ease any worries of darkness.  Deeper and deeper you went.  The afterthought of getting lost down here vanished when you found a path, winding down the treacherous tumbling's of rocks and subterranean flora. You found a stream bounding down a slope of dark rocks. Your fingers idly trailed along the smooth cut stone that acted as stairs towards the heart of this cave.  You didn’t slip.  Nor did you feel any nervousness when a sound rose up through the music of running water. A whispering murmur that called to you. 

Almost there. It seemed to say.

A friend. 

Your friend. The one from your dreams that spoke of itself and the sweet home it made for itself down here.  Surrounded by soft moss and cool water. Comforted by the comes and goings of eager hikers that walked these trails. Listening to the world's gossip and excitement while happily residing in the depths of the mountain. Unseen and undisturbed.

But it called to you nonetheless. And you came just as you promised; a friend coming to visit a friend.  The stream brought you to a wide cavern. With a pool in the center and many small plants circling the crystalline water. The lights you were promised dangled from thin, pale vines that spiderwebbed along the sloped ceiling. Giving the wide cave a gentle blue glow as you stepped towards the water. 

You felt parched after such a hike. And the water felt cool against your fingers as you kneeled down beside it and cupped some into your mouth. 

It tasted sweet. Almost like honey. And you sighed as the discomfort of your hike started to ease.  The murmuring echoed through the cave and you sat yourself on a nearby rock. Slipping off your backpack as you looked out over the pool. 

Many eyes watched you, pale and completely pupilless, locked on you from a mound of mossy bark and fern covered limbs. 

It was huge. The presence you have felt for so many nights felt like a crushing weight now as your friend started to move closer. The water barely stirred as thick appendages rose from the calm waters and slithered along the ground towards you. 

You smiled. Reaching for a tentacle as it coiled along your calf and bathed your warm skin with its cool flesh.  You wore shorts today, given the heat of the day, and your friend seemed thrilled with how much skin was currently exposed.  The murmuring turned to whispers. Eager with anticipation. You felt a wordless voice enter your mind as the creature walked out of the pool on thick, muscular legs. They looked like trunks of trees, covered in more of that mossy bark like skin.  You tilted your head up as a tentacle brushed along your chest, circling your neck for but a second before retreating. Wherever your friend touched, a comforting cooling sensation followed. And after your walk up the side of the mountain it was a very welcoming change. 

That presence bloomed in your mind and your smile turned sheepish as a thinner tentacle slipped under your shirt and petted along your bare chest. You felt a curiosity grow through you. Not yours, but theirs. 

You couldn’t hide how warmed the smooth, velvety appendage made you feel. One of the thicker tentacles was resting between your legs. Nestling between your thighs as the others gently greeted and stroked you. 

And the creature breathed an amused sound into the cave as it felt your hips twitch. And you stifled a groan when you felt the muscle tense against you, causing friction. 

Clothes fell to the mossy floor in a messy pile. The tentacles were careful but impatient as they removed each piece of material from your body.  Those many eyes drank in every inch of newly exposed skin and a heated kernal of need rose up within you. 

You gasped as the vision vanished.  A tender tip of the creature’s arms stroked along your cheek, comforting and reassuring. Asking quiet permission as your friend drew back; waiting.  You nodded, smiling.  That’s why you came here after all. Visiting a friend who needed company more intimately than passing gossipers. 

And just like the vision, your clothes fell from your body in fluid, practiced motions. A familiar scene started to open up in front of you as your friend’s arms coiled beneath you and lifted you off the hard stone. They moved you to a more open space in the cave and you were laid down in a nest of soft moss and fern leaves. The glowing vines twisted and knotted between the crags of your bed, illuminating your friend as they settled before you. Their tentacles snaked over the edge of the nest to begin tangling between your limbs. 

The thickest of them all wrapped around your calves and gently spread your legs apart. You moaned as the tip of the appendage curled over your waist and slid between your folds. Clear liquid pooled from the tip and your hips pushed up into the rounded end as they started to fondle you.  How many nights did you and them fool around in your dream? Exactly like this? Pulled to you by their need and your loneliness, your once uneventful nights were soon full of tangled limbs and visions of pleasure. 

You would wake up panting and soaked, both in sweat and with arousal. Lost in the fog of the dream and coming back to reality. 

But here, now with your friend as they loomed over you, your legs spread and pushed up around your head as a tentacle prodded and rimmed your hole, you felt a wave of excitement come over you. 

Tangling with your heated anticipation as the tip against you pushed and your walls gave entry.  It felt like a great relief washed over you as they pushed deeper. The discomfort that has plagued you for days was finally relieved and you went limp against the nest as your body gave an involuntary twitch from the sweetened touch. Your friend must have felt the same because the slow rhythm rubbing along your slit faltered. 

Your mind fogged with a layer of desire and joy as more limbs petted down the back of your thighs and started to grope and fondle you. Twisting and touching along your bare chest as your back arched into the tangle of arms.

You gasped, mouth hanging open as your walls were stretched. Their murmuring was gentle and reassuring. A soothing contrast to the waves upon waves of eager anticipation that radiated from them.  Then the tip pushed deeper and you felt your walls welcome them. And you accepted the intrusion with a heavy moan.

They shivered above you. You felt the heat of your body burn against their cool skin and they enjoyed it. Loved how your hole so eagerly spread for them and how deep they started to go. 

Inch by careful inch, your friend filled you until your eyes squeezed shut and an uncomfortable tension pushed at your stomach. They halted, and a tender touch brushed along your cheek again; reassuring and comforting. 

They didn’t mean to push so hard. But your body felt so good, so soft and warm that they wanted to stay there forever. 

You relaxed after the thick limb began to pull out. But it was so slow it was torture, your moan lowered into a whine. 

They stalled. Those many eyes  watching you as you reached down and ran your fingers along their tentacles. Giving attention to the entanglement of limbs that snaked and petted along your waist and chest. You were almost entirely swallowed by them that you could barely move without them allowing you too. 

You felt small bumps and ridges slide along your palm. Your fingers were left slimy with the substance that oozed from the tip of their appendages.

Curiously, you brought your fingers to your mouth and gave them a small lick.  Just like the pool, the liquid was cool and sweet on your tongue. Like honey. Your friend purred as you stuck two fingers between your lips. And before you could react, a small tentacle wrapped around your wrist and tugged your hand away. 

Your lips were immediately filled with another thick tendril and you felt the tip hit the back of your throat. 

Your eyes bulged and you gagged as a small drop of the liquid slid down your throat.  A worrying whisper tickled your mind. A question, as the limb between your lips started to retreat. You hummed and relaxed your mouth, giving silent permission to continue.

Pleased, your friend pushed further and your eyes watered at the intrusion. But you licked at the velvety underside of the limb. Moaning softly as you tasted that sweet nectar which began to trickle into your mouth.  Your friend then started to continue to pull out of you. You whined again but they slowly slid from your hole, leaving only the tip, before slamming back into you with enough force that your body rocked and your eyes widened in surprise.  Whatever noise of complaint you tried to voice died very quickly as a pace was established. Rough and fast, feverish almost, as your friend purred above you. Your hips were lifted off the ground, angled in a way that folded you in half and your legs were spread wide and near your shoulders. 

Your chest was rubbed and squeezed, your peaked nipples teased by pillowy suction cups on the smallest limbs. Liquid pooling from the coils wrapped around you to ensure there was no restriction to the way they moved. 

Your lips were assaulted by the tentacle in your mouth, which coiled and rubbed along your tongue like a cold version of your own. Your friend shifted closer. Entirely enveloping you with their tentacles as they pulled you against their body. 

You felt yourself being lifted and pressed against their underside as if they wanted to feel you squirm and writhed against them. 

Your eyes closed as you lost yourself to the blinding pleasure. Your walls were stretched and you felt them knock against the deepest part of you, your womb near buckling under the onslaught of thrusts.

The whispering voice transformed into a whining growl that grated your ears. Somehow you knew the harsh sound was your friend’s moaning as they sprawled themselves over the nest. Crushing you against the soft floor as their body started to rut and flood your exposed body with that sweet cooling liquid.  You could feel your climax coming forth. Fighting the cool touch of your friend was a racing wildfire beneath your skin, ready to burst when their tip found something sensitive within you. A bundle of nerves that had you thrashing against your cocoon of petting limbs. 

Your friend cooed softly and your body was suddenly made empty as the tentacle slid out of you.  You cried out. Your frustration was muffled by the thick tongue like limb that you were currently sucking on. 

Amusement flooded your thoughts. And a feeling of patience trickled into your hazy mind.  You pushed against it, harshly sucking on the tentacle in your mouth as if you could coax your friend to reconsider. 

But instead of filling you again, your friend moved so all you could see was their underside. The wrappings of muscled limbs left you. You gasped and licked your lips as the tongue left you as well. 

Above you, your friend’s underside was like a shelled belly. Beautiful with intricate brown lines and plates of green; you would have admired them more if your body wasn’t currently screaming at the lack of touch and stimulation.  Your friend twitched above you and from a slit between the two back legs, something pushed between the thick shell like plating.  As red as candy and thicker than any of the limbs that had previously been buried inside you, your friend’s cock left its protective sheath and started to lower towards your spread thighs. 

The head of the length was flared and rounded nubs circled the wide tip. You licked your lips again. Your body clenching in anticipation and worry as the girth tilted, as if flexible like the tentacles before, and brushed over your sensitive clit. 

You groaned and spread yourself wider. Even going as far as sliding your hands down to your hole and moving your folds so their cock didn’t tug on anything. 

Appreciation melted into your mind and you relaxed against the nest as your friend’s hips dipped lower and the flared head disappeared between your thighs.  You felt the cool soft tip press against your entrance and you tried hard not to tense as they started to push into you. 

You gasped as your walls were stretched to their limit. Comforting murmurs filled your mind as you squeezed your eyes shut against the discomfort. 

But that’s all there was. No pain, just a slight discomfort as your body adjusted to this new girth.  You clung to the body that was inches above you. Holding onto your friend as they tenderly thrusted into you. 

Their clawed hands tore into the nest as they forced themselves to go slow. The images of their cock ravaging you, filling you with every inch of them to claim you; fluttered through your mind before they were snatched away by their self-control. 

Finally, you felt the flared head reach your womb and you were sure you felt the rounded nubs move and press against your walls. Like they were making a barrier against your cervix. 

They then started to move. Your back immediately arched as pleasure burst through your center. You cried out, gasping as your body was rocked again and again by your friend’s eager rutting. They could barely move inside you. The locked position of the flared head felt like a knot deep inside you, keeping you both firmly together. 

But still your friend desperately chased the pleasure they had to previously pause to properly enter you. 

And just as you started to adjust to the heavy sensation in your stomach, your friend shivered above you and the base of their cock bulged as something slid down the long length. 

You gasped, watching the egg roll down the thick length and your walls squeezed tightly around the new intrusion. Your friend thrusted harder than before. Pushing the rounded shaft deeper, forcing your walls to spread around it.

Your head rolled back as it popped inside and you groaned disgustingly loud as it settled deep within you. A heavy, warm bubble of liquid that rounded your stomach and jostled with every thrust from your friend. 

They growled above you as another egg left them and you grabbed the trunk like leg to brace yourself as the bulging intrusion rested against the first.  You reached down and started to rub your untouched clit. Sliding your fingers between your folds, wetting them on the cool liquid that your friend poured from their cock. You felt the hard lump where a third egg was currently flush against your body, begging entrance as your friend purred above you. You circled your clit, rolling your hips in time with your friend’s thrust until pleasure exploded forth. Your climax was what they needed to get the third egg into you. Your spasming walls and jerking hips gave them enough leverage to slide their third egg into your waiting pussy.

The purring increased until it was all you heard. Their cock twitched and you felt some sort of thicker liquid pool from between your legs. 

In your blind chase for pleasure, you didn’t realize the stimulation you were giving your friend. And your fall into bliss dragged them down with you, spilling their pleasure into your swollen hole. 

They didn’t move from their position above you. Still locked together, your friend murmured sweet whispers into your mind as you both caught your breath. 

White hot bliss sparked from your body with every lazy roll of their hips.  You couldn’t recall how much time you laid there beneath them. Writhing and moaning, lost in an overstimulated fog of pleasure and bliss.  Sometime during this hazy moment, your friend finally pulled out of you. You barely felt the shift between your legs, still snugly swollen with eggs.

You fell asleep not long after that. Finally coaxed into rest by your friend’s nuzzling touches. Their limbs massaged along your arms and stomach, as if soothing you into finally sleeping. 

[llamagoddessofficial]

Okay wait! We need more fae farm Sans please! that was too good! What would it look like when Sans's secret is revealed?

HFKDSJ okay, here's some more.

I really don't think he'd be too worried about it, when you discover his otherworldly nature. Because neither would you. Everyone already knows he's kind of strange, rumours of him not being 'normal' are abound. At that point, you would've already spent many moons getting to know him, being vulnerable without even realising - and you'd be living in a world where fae aren't uncommon at all. He's already proven himself a trustworthy friend. Why would you be scared of him?

... Especially since you have no reason to believe he's anything other than normal fae.

What you (a human) might forget is that the fair folk are not a homogeneous group. Some fae even other fae fear. He's one such entity.

It's difficult to tell if he's more powerful than Dream or Nightmare, considering he spends all his time... well, farming. It's also difficult to compare them because while all three are very ancient, they trace back to very different lineages. Dream and Nightmare are fae of butterflies, flowers, mushrooms, trees, seasons. Farmer is of ferns - of bogs, of gingkos, pine and moss.

Yall remember my Forest God AU? He's like if a Forest God got its act together, and just decided to settle down in a humanoid form. He's lived long enough to know what really matters... things like soft socks, a place to call home, the eyes and lips of a human you love.

He calls you "chickadee". It's his favourite bird.

People from the nearby village will giddily ask if you and Farmer are 'courting'. The delightful but mysterious bachelor finally has someone he likes? Everyone's rooting for him!

You have a very important role, on his farm. Very very important. You're his preserves tester. How is he supposed to know his jams and chutneys are any good, without someone of refined palate to assist him?

He has a really wonderful singing voice.

Old habits die hard; he still likes to trade. But the trades are silly, and often just an excuse for him to play. You want to hear him sing again? Better 'trade' by agreeing to cuddle up by the fire with him. You want another song, because the last sounded so ancient and beautiful and unlike anything you've ever heard? Try his spiced rice pudding, then he'll think about it.

His favourite food is roasted chestnuts.

His farm rests on the boundary between the fae and human worlds. You can enter from either side - and if you're not careful, leave on the wrong side. Farmer always walks you the right way, but if someone he doesn't like decides to make their leave, he might not be so attentive to where they're going.

You can stay at his farm without turning into fae. Alternatively, if you enter his property from the fae side, your transformation into fae is paused.

Wouldn't be surprised if he can reverse an incomplete transformation.

He talks fondly, but in the past tense, about a brother.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Sooo remember that blupee Wild post from yesterday? I wrote something for it

Forgive the quality I wrote it in less than an hour

—————————

Legend stops short, Wild’s name still hovering on his lips, waiting to be propelled into the indifferent grouping of trees. There are eyes glowing from within the blanket of ferns at his feet. Glowing golden irises rimmed in amber, staring from a heart shaped face of palest blue.

Two antenna twitch. A small nose wriggles.

Legend bends to one knee, holds out a hand.

“Hey there. You wouldn’t happen to know where that crazy cook went, would you?”

Again the nose moves, though this time it wrinkles slightly as though the being has smelt a stench.

“Alright, fine.” Legend sighs. “Do you know where Wild went?”

That earns him some small amount of favor. The creature runs a paw over its face, fluffing up the fur there. Then, with one small hop, it emerges from its hiding place. It settles down on its haunches right in front of the veteran and sneezes.

Legend gazes at it and it gazes at him. It looks for all the world like a rabbit, with its loping gate and compact form. Yet, the appendages atop its head are like vines stretching upward in their ascent towards light. Its eyes are endless pools of molten treasure. They speak of wisdom, of mystery. They are a map Legend has yet to obtain.

Its body is delicate. The magic that waltzes gently around it threatens to spirit it away. But there is a strength about it that calls to Legend’s soul. It is painted in the eruptions of royal blue burned into the side of its face, etched in craggy, sporadic splotches upon its chest and abdomen. It is housed in those eyes of an ethereal stranger, a beloved brother and friend.

Again, the veteran holds out his hand in invitation. His voice is even softer this time.

“I won’t hurt you, champion.”

I know, Wild’s eyes say. Because you’re like me.

Another two hops and he has deposited himself in Legend’s lap. The veteran’s breath catches at this display of easy trust. Long and arduous is the road they walk. Many have been the days when he and Wild have ended up together, two conflicting minds forced to meld into something complementary. But never had he allowed himself to imagine it would all lead to this.

How’d you know?

A soft head presses against his chest. Legend ducks his face into the fur and for a moment, breathes in the scent of bubbling springs and murmuring branches, whispering wind and moist river rocks, moss and magic and autumn leaves.

How’d you know it was me?

He chuckles. Delicate fingers crowned with jewels find the spot behind Wild’s ears and rub there. The champion makes a trilling sound deep in his throat, a melody as pleasant as a bird singing its jovial song amongst the trees.

“It’s as you said. I’m like you.”

There is something about rabbits, he decides, a thread that weaves between their hearts and minds, connecting them in ways far beyond what words can explain. So that they may find one another, helpless creatures though they may be.

He checks over Wild one more time, searching for an explanation to the champion’s sudden disappearance from camp. But there are none to be seen. No wounds. No disturbances in the pattern of quick breaths. No skips in the race his tiny heart runs.

Legend lies back on the firm, packed earth, and Wild immediately readjusts along with him. He curls around himself, head meeting bushy tail in the form of a snail’s circular shell. Legend’s fingers continue their trail along the curving form, silk turning skin soft.

Above them, the trees bow to one another, limbs meeting midway to filter the pale rays of the sun. A leaf flutters down toward them. Its lazy journey ends atop Wild’s body. He doesn’t seem to mind. A tiny sigh lifts his chest. He readjusts, blinks open one eye that probes Legend’s soul.

Hey…thanks, vet.

The veteran grins. “Never thought I’d hear you say that to me.”

There is no bite in his tone. The sarcasm usually biting is gentle, teasing.

The wounds were never outward to begin with. He knows that now. He should have seen it the moment Wild’s eyes grew wide as a memory took over, the moment afterward when his chest had heaved in subtle attempts at breath, and those in the days following when he had walked with slow steps, head bowed, smile a ghost ready to fade and flee.

He doesn’t know how the hero came to take this form. It doesn’t matter however.

Legend runs his hand over the tiny head and he understands.

[squiddy-god]

A confession to a fae

(Lilia vanrouge x reader)

Re-upload from terminated blog squid-god-supreme, this is in a similar style to captured, basically, this is more general Lilia leaning, long hair Lilia supremacy

CW : nothing much, reader is low key down bad, kinda stalking? Watching from afar? "My most cherished one"

1.5k

Who was he? That mysterious man who walked the stone path of your small cottage in the dead of night? He who stalks the trees and befriends all creatures of the night. Who is he, you wonder? 

He whose eyes glow crimson and whose pupils are not but slender slits of pitch black. You wondered who he was as you glanced with blurred vision and bated breath out the window to catch only a glimpse. 

The thought and curiosity plagued you and you worked in your garden, soft soil giving way as you dug and pulled weeds, harvested the plants you grew. The tall trees cast dancing shadows but let light flicker through, it was calm, peaceful. "Hello there my dear" you jumped and looking up there was now a figure in front of you, Dressed in a long robe the deep set hood concealed his face. He was tall, not unreasonably so but enough to make note of, he leaned only slightly against the stone wall separating the two of you. Covered in moss and discolored from years of the forest encroaching on pale stone it only came up to about waist height. He let out a chuckle at your alarm "do not fret little one, I mean no harm to you" "o-oh well 'morning" 

That was how it all began, the mysterious man showing up by that garden wall to chat, the lovely weather, the kingdom of which you hail, and the woods that you call home. He had the most pleasant stories, of dragons and swords clashing, of night walks with ghosts and of history long passed, from dusk till dawn in bliss you were held captive by the words he spoke as you tended your garden. 

"Ah drats!" You mumbled as you searched for the jar of wild herbs and mushrooms you needed, only to realize that you had run out. "Fine I suppose I'll go get more" you sighed, lacing your boots and grabbing the shallow basket you used for things like this, with that you headed off. 

Deep now in the forest and basket weighed with herbs and edible mushrooms, a few berries, and flowers you could grow you felt a cold touch on your hand. 

Stumbling back the basket landed after you, miraculously nothing split as it contacted the ground. "Apologies my dear" the cold touch was back, now in front of you kneeled the man who leaned against your garden wall, his pale hand grasping yours as it was lifted to his lips. 

Were his footsteps like rain? Silent and peaceful, you wondered as the sunlight danced with shadows if this man was the same who stalked the night with such luster. If he who held your hand in tender reverence was he who walked the path of your cottage before the sun kissed the sky. 

"It's alright, you just startled me haha" you got up, watching as he rose up, his cloak fell to conceal his ivory and alabaster pants and cuffed black leather boots. "I come here often, this tree is quite nice, perhaps I'll no longer be the only one who visits?" He extended his hand, nails sharp and pitch black. "Is that an invitation?" You took his hand. 

"Fufufu of course my dear" 

This man who you were so enraptured by was a constant question in your brain, so it was no shock that as you awoke and lit your lantern you spotted from that window by the bed, a figure dancing through the trees and got up. Heading to the kitchen then to the stone wall by the garden you left a bowl of tomato soup you had made earlier and heated up by fire. 

As morning breathed life to day you awoke again and went out to your garden, there against the wall with his back turned was the man.His vest a polished pine green embroidered with blush pink thread showing ferns and snapdragons, red dahlias and columbine flowers. The short half cape that rested on his shoulder and draped over one of his alabaster sleeves was dark slate gray and lined with silver. “Hello again sir” you greeted him like any other day and he turned to you with a fond smile. He was handsome, his striking blood red eyes set against the pale white skin and the slight dark tint to his eyes and lips. His hair was long and black, with streaks of pink and the underside bright fuchsia. His appearance was striking, especially his smile and the fangs that peaked out. “Good morning my dear, thank you for the gift you left me on the evening of last” you smiled, proud of the work you put into that soup and glad he enjoyed it. “I can't let a gift go unpaid, so before the sun bids my farewell would you invite me to repay your generosity?” “you don't have to, but if you insist!”.

Just like that he lept over our stone garden wall, his black boots lifting him up before hitting the cobblestone path. A cold hand to yours and before you knew it you were spinning, his hand at your waist and the other holding your hand. “My gift to you today is a dance through dawn.” no rhythm played in the air yet as you danced in his embrace the world seemed to be alight with beautiful melodies, his eyes held stories that ruptured your heart and made your feet sway effortlessly with his.

You wondered if this man was human, he who stalks the trees, he who dances to no music yet keeps rhythm, he who leans over the garden wall. They say you should not dance with the fae, for once you do it’ll never be the same without, you wondered if that was what he is, if his eyes hold more than lonely longing affection but his gaze always seems to silence these thoughts. 

He was beyond the garden wall now, no longer the mysterious figure but the charming man, he sat under the tree in your garden and told you stories now, occasionally he would play tunes on his bagpipe and you would dance and clap in tune when not tending your garden. He often brought flowers, lovely flowers that you had never seen, ones that never wilted and ones that bloomed in the dead of night. He also brought honeyd words and sweet glances, saying he was once lonely but had found you. The man spoke of magic and mages, you had confessed that you had no magic like others and that this was the reason you moved out to the forest. He showed you magic as you danced, the sparkling of light that spun and twirled around the air as his appearance changed before your eyes, and as yours morphed to match his own.

“I spend so much time with you now,” you pondered shifting and turning towards him “yet i don't know your name” his breath seemed to pause, a dead calm and for a moment you wondered if you had messed up. “Fufufu my my what a question to ask me, you who walk beyond thorns have not a clue what power a name holds” his answer confused you, the power a name holds? “But, you are indeed my most cherished one, so perhaps I will tell you” how he adored the way your eyes gleamed at the words he spoke. “First you must follow me cherished one~” he was up in a second and you followed.

Soon you looked down to see a stone path, the trees grew more dense and you realized you had never been this deep into the forest before. “Sir- uh my love?” “Yes darling?” Even with golden light trickling through dense leaves his eyes almost glowed the most brilliant red. “Where…are we going?” he laughed. “Fufu you will see soon enough. 

You walked deeper and deeper until only sparse light flooded in small beams and nature had entirely consumed the land, remnants of castles long taken by lakes and claimed by the forest. Even the path you realized had disappeared some time ago, your only guide was the man in front of you. The almost silent sound of his steps stopped and you ran into his back, soft fabric cushioning your blow. “H-huh?” before you in the dim lighting was what looked to be a wall of trees and thorny vine, they twisted and curved suspiciously to form a perfect circle. It was lighter on the other side but almost the same, except for the cobblestone path that emerged covered in moss. 

“This my dear, is the price for such power over me.” he stepped through and nothing seemed to happen. “Simply follow me, til the end of eternity” and before your eyes he vanished. Your eyes were wide as saucers as you stood before the circle gateway. “Alright” you said more to the memory of his figure, one foot after the other onto the other side. 

Now you stand, in a small clearing, the circle arch long gone as your feet touch the cool stone. Chilling arms and soft linen fabric wrapped around you as the ghost of a breath blew gently against your ear.

“Lillia, lillia vanrouge~” 

[aloysiavirgata]

She walks in beauty, like the night

Scully in the simplest, blackest silk. Scully pale, moon-kissed, vulnerable. Scully’s hair and eyes like where the stars are born.

***

Scully comes to him when even the moon is all but asleep, like a single calla lily from a secret admirer. Unbidden. Unexpected.

Unparalleled.

“Mulder,” she says, outside his open door, in a negligee that last shade of sky blue before it goes pitch black.

Spaghetti straps and a low décolletage, though not shockingly low. Lace trim, mid thigh. It looks like something Katharine Hepburn would wear to slap you.

Not you. Him.

Specifically him.

She looks up at him through her heavy-lashed, heavy-lidded eyes.

He stares at her for his own sake because deep in his 12 year old heart, no one would ever, ever, believe that nerdy Fox Muld-

Scully takes another step closer onto the sad oatmeal carpet of his hotel room. She has such pretty ankles, she has such pretty calves. She smells like honeysuckle and hot bike tires and buttery lobster rolls and the sweetest, purest moments of his life.

She tips her face up to him, Agent Scully does, all eyes and lips and cheekbones like a geometric proof.

“God,” he says. And he means it.

***

LA belongs to the sun and Scully is a San Diego baby but he knows, he knows, she is an East Coast girl at heart. He knows she loves the first retinal purple-orange sunrises of America and the first sapphire kisses of night. He knows she loves the stars by which her father learned to navigate. He knows she loves the distant moon.

He knows she loves blue crabs and wool duffel coats and khaki shorts and aspires to East Hampton in her most secret, silent heart.

One day he will make love to her in London because she will, he knows, hark to the call of the City. She is a creature of old stone and lichen and liminal space.

She is the answer to Samson’s riddle.

***

He’d rented a jet black ‘57 Chevy Bel Air because Christ, this girl. Abductions and cancer and the most awful brutality and stolen ova and Christ; this brilliant, moonbeam girl.

She sees the car and she says nothing. But her eyes, her eyes. Her Star of India eyes.

Scully sees the car and she smiles, shy. Scully squeezes his hand.

***

He fucks her - hard, desperate - in the Chevy out over Mullholland and she cries out for him because even Saint Teresa writhed in ecstasy.

He kisses her the way a mariner kisses his homeland soil because she is his human credential. He kisses her like a Torah scroll. He shudders, murmurs I love you, I love you into the hot, sweet dark of her mouth.

***

She is bleeding, just a little. She is bleeding in the warm caress of a Southern California night. She is bleeding as though she were a virgin and maybe she is; maybe there is sex and there is fucking and there is making love and there is This.

Are you there, god? It’s me, Dana.

She touches his sleeping rosebud lips. She touches his funny nose and his beautiful jaw and she doesn’t say I love you aloud like he had because she’d learned it was shameful. She’d learned to salute.

But it’s 3 AM, neither properly morning nor properly night. It’s 3 AM and she isn’t LA pretty, not by a long shot, but she’s here with him, with Mulder, who is very LA pretty and has money besides.

She’s too short and too pale and her nose is patrician rather than cute and she gets burnt instead of tan. She doesn’t laugh in the right places at movies. She likes copper because it burns green, she likes moths more than butterflies, she can quote Jane Austen’s most acerbic lines.

She thinks of Mulder swimming hard across the Vineyard tides, Mulder with his cinnamon skin in the whipped cream breakers. Riding a red fixed-gear along Lake Tashmoo, tugging his tiny sister along. Mulder basking on the beach like a young god of summer. Mulder with his heart afire like Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque.

Her father is dead and look, look Mulder has such a tender soul even if he’s Jewish and atheist, Daddy. Mulder has eyes like fern moss.

“I love you,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears, her eyes bright as the newest stars.

[naffeclipse]

I HAVE THR GREATEST IDEA!! Raindeer centaur!Y/n with orca!Eclipse and she finds two calves of sun and moon raindeer centaurs and bring to eclipse how would he react??

Oh my gosh, Reindeer Centaur Y/N!! You'd have a thick, brown coat and velvet horns. Strong and stout, you traverse the ice and snow with a silent forbearance.

Eclipse sees you before you ever see him. He's immediately enamored by the beautiful centaur trotting around snowbanks—he has to see you up close! It takes patience, but he follows from the coast, and he's rewarded. He finds you. He introduces himself the only way he knows how.

You kneel at the water's edge, hooves folded underneath your body as you wash your hands in the thick salt. The taste warns you to not drink it, but it does well cleaning away the sweat and grime from constantly moving. You lower your hands, cupping a gentle handful to wash the fine, velveteen fur of your neck when you realize a face is staring at you from below the surface, grinning.

You slowly straighten where you sit and he follows, emerging from the water in soft splashes and a gleaming gaze. He sizes you up as if deciding where to take the bite first. You, calmly, regard him, and listen to his gushing of how beautiful and handsome you are! He flicks his tongue over his teeth when he tells his name. When you share your own, you study how his claws thrum against the ice and how intently he locks eyes with you.

He often calls you 'my dear' and adores touching your antlers and stroking your thick, velvet fur. You take your time letting him close. When you're not racing along the ocean shore, you'll watch Eclipse breach, showing off with grandiose splashes before he pops up to catch your reaction.

On one rare occasion, he convinces you to lie down on your side, four cervine legs sprawled out, and lay your head on his stomach. You're both quiet the sight, a centaur and a siren, sprawled close together, but you don't mind his claws petting through your hair and scratching between your antlers so long as he's gentle. He sings you lullabies that lull you to sleep (you swore you wouldn't drift away so easily but he had other plans.)

When you're ready, you stroke his head fins and touch his flukes. He's practically beaming under your interest and snowflake-soft palming. He melts when you allow him to press his cheek against the velveteen fur on your reindeer half. He's clingy, but you gradually settle into his constant touches and affectionate affirmations with your treasured time.

Later, much later, when you cross a field, and discover two small bodies with bumbling cervine legs struggling through the snow, you calmly take a calf of beige and buttery yellow colors, and the other, blue metal and silvery, under your arms. They're just old enough to hold themselves up. They bawl, not yet having found their words. The twins nuzzle into your fur. It's not a pretty picture—two abandoned centaur young, but it's nothing you and Eclipse can't handle.

He accepts them without hesitation as you thought he might. It's not a question of acceptance but a matter of finding the right manner in which to tend to the children. You gently point out to Eclipse how the nub markings show how the buttery-yellow babe will have horns like a blossom of petals or a fan of sun rays, and the blue metal babe will have a singular horn like a shooting star or the crescent curve of the waning moon.

(He names them Sun and Moon, and you agree; it fits them fine.)

Eclipse watches over the three of you at night, quietly lapping at the ice's edge while you hold the babies close and provide them with warmth. (Eclipse laughs when the babes attempt to suckle on you, much to your bemusement.) During the day, he stows away though never too far and you find good moss and ferns that Sun and Moon can nibble on. You watch over them, minding predators and coaxing them to stabilize their gangly legs and hold themselves high. Evening falls, and you reunite. Eclipse plays with them tenderly, keeping them from falling into the sea but stimulating them to build their strength and their mind. They take to you both, much to your silent fondness. It's an odd little sight, but you're a family.

You wouldn't have chosen any other.

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Forty-Four

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Cloudpaw?”

Of course Fireheart had to wake up to that.

“Cloudpaw!” Aspenpaw’s increasingly frightened voice, pitching further up with every word. “Cloudpaw, where are you?”

Fireheart started getting to his feet before his eyes opened. Half of him wanted to keep them squeezed shut forever, as if that would help avoid this situation.

Goldenflower’s voice came now. “What’s going on, dove?”

“Cloudpaw’s not in his nest!” Aspenpaw didn’t sound like she cared if she woke up the rest of camp. “An– and I checked the dirtplace, and he’s not there!”

Fireheart fought back uttering a curse as the cats deeper into the warrior’s den started mumbling and shifting, waking up at the terrified apprentice’s cries. Before anyone else could pass him, he stepped out of the den, shaking his fur of stray dead moss. His eyes opened just as Aspenpaw skidded to a stop in front of him, her own bulging with panic.

“Did you know where Cloudpaw is?” she asked desperately.

Fireheart barely kept his tone in check when he said quietly, “I have an inkling.”

“He didn’t go after the dogs, did he?” Aspenpaw twisted around, pacing between Fireheart and Goldenflower. “Oh, stars, what if he did, an– and they found him, and—”

“They didn’t.” Fireheart felt curious eyes on him as more cats came out of their dens at the noise. “He’s fine.”

“Then where is he?!” Aspenpaw cried. Her legs splayed out as she turned to face Fireheart again, her claws sinking into the moist sand.

“Fireheart?” Whitecloud’s soft voice came up beside him. Fireheart only turned with his eyes to see the concern on the deputy’s face. “Is something wrong?”

You’ve got to tell them, his logical side said, gentle but firm. He’s pushed his luck too many times now. And you made it clear that he’d get in trouble if he ran off again. Don’t hide this anymore. Now is the time to be an adult and tell the truth.

How he hated that this side was right. With a deep inhale that came back out as a much heavier sigh than he intended, Fireheart looked properly over at Whitecloud and asked, “Is it okay if I call a meeting?”

Whitecloud blinked, his yellow eyes pale with confusion. “Is it important?”

Fireheart nodded. “It’s something I think everyone should have a voice in.”

More confusion, and a bit of disturbance, but Whitecloud flicked a paw at the stump. “Go ahead.”

By this time, the entire Clan was awake, all either leaving their dens or poking their heads out and speaking to each other. The general tone wavered with worry, not helped by Aspenpaw’s fur sticking out in all directions as she looked around desperately for her brother. Fireheart wasted no time, striding for the stump just as Yellowfang and Cinderpaw came to its base out of the remains of ferns behind it. As he passed them, Yellowfang grunted knowingly.

He stopped right below the stump, exposed roots beneath his feet. He wondered why it was only now that he hesitated to stand above his Clanmates, when he was to command their attention all on his own. He hadn’t felt this apprehension the last two times he had jumped onto it, and the most recent time was far worse than the topic he had to broach now.

“What’s he doing?” someone whispered close by.

Fireheart clenched his jaw as tight as he could, releasing some of his tension when he relaxed. He didn’t give himself any more time to hesitate—he simply bunched up and leaped, landing on the top with ease (shorter than a fence, he thought, but still harder) and turning to face his Clanmates. Most of them stared at him in bafflement, but they slowly clustered in as Whitecloud came to stand on one side of the stump.

Fireheart gathered his courage, sent a quick prayer to the Three for help, and spoke, attempting to speak as loudly and clearly as his leader and deputies always had.

“I know where Cloudpaw is,” he started. “I know where he’s been going. I wanted to handle this privately, and keep it between me and him, but he’s disobeyed too many times now, and put himself in too much danger. It’s time for me to tell you all so, hopefully, we can find a solution together.”

The cats on the ground exchanged puzzled faces, but a few of them seemed to have an idea of where this was going, judging by their narrowed eyes and turned-back ears.

With a faint flame of boldness in his chest, Fireheart continued. “He’s been sneaking off to see his birth-mother in the Houses.”

The air burst with shouts of shock and anger—even the apprentices looked outraged, Thornpaw especially. Ravenwing sat by Snowpaw, signing to him with a troubled face. Greystripe, Fireheart noticed, had an expression of something like sympathy; he was the only cat that didn’t look scandalized.

“You never told any of us about this?” Willowpelt asked sharply.

“Only Yellowfang,” Fireheart replied.

“And why didn’t you say anything, then?” Sandstorm growled at the old seer.

Yellowfang stuck her jaw out. “Would that it were my business. The boy’s the one to handle it.”

“Then he should have handled it sooner!” Darkstripe shouted. “He’s been betraying us all, letting his stupid apprentice break the law! I bet he’s been eating kittypet food and letting those humans touch him!”

Fireheart was not ruffled by this; really, he’d been expecting someone to say it. It might as well be the cat he could disregard entirely. He instead kept his attention on the rest of the Clan, who were slowly quieting down so he could speak.

“I brought him to meet her once myself, once we returned home from the Barn,” he said, and waited for another round of outrage to pass before continuing. “Since then, he’s been seeing her for the comfort of having a mother who lives in a safe place that he doesn’t have to look around in to avoid being eaten by dogs.”

Dustpelt glared up at him. “And you let—”

“I am not finished talking,” Fireheart said coolly. 

To his surprise, the last of the mutters and growls cut themselves off, everyone’s eyes back on him. He took the opportunity presented while he had it.

“I can understand his reasoning, but I don’t agree with it.” Fireheart’s ears folded back of their own accord. “I’ve told him repeatedly that he was only going to see her if I went with him—yes, I’m aware that’d be me breaking the law too, but family is family, as you all know better than anyone else.” By the uncomfortable shifting of paws and twitching of mouths, he had them pinned for that, at least. “The last time he went, I warned him that I would properly punish him if he did it again. And, well, he’s done it again. He doesn’t have any other reason to have completely disappeared this early in the night.” He looked down at Cloudpaw’s anxious sister. “When you looked for him outside, you didn’t smell any dogs nearby, did you?”

Aspenpaw shook her head, but she didn’t look any more relieved.

“He’s got a knack for getting through the territory without facing any trouble,” Fireheart said to the rest. “I could probably head to the Houses right now and bring him back.” He paused, a gnarled little root of negativity coiling around the flame of boldness. “Truthfully, though, I’m probably just going to let him come home on his own and face all of us as a Clan.” He drew in another breath, hoping for the ideal answer to his question. “So, I’m up here because I want to ask you all: what should be done to ensure he doesn’t do this again?”

“Exile, I say,” Darkstripe snapped. “He was a mistake to bring in from the beginning. He should’ve stayed a kittypet, like—”

“Oh, shut up,” Greystripe said casually, then raised his voice to be heard by everyone. “I get where Cloudpaw is coming from—I mean, he shouldn’t be doing this, but I get it. I think he should be properly punished once he gets home, just not too hard.”

“Has he been eating kittypet food?” Frostfur asked, her tone icy. Fireheart nodded and she spat. “Then maybe he could eat it for the rest of his life. We don’t need a traitor in our Clan.”

“He’s an apprentice!” Ravenwing said to her, surprisingly angry. “And a very young one at that! This is a stressful time for us adults, let alone a young cat who was made an apprentice too early and lost half of his family out here. I don’t blame him at all for wanting comfort, even when he knows he shouldn’t be doing it. He doesn’t need to be kicked out like he killed one of us.”

A lump formed in Fireheart’s throat. He swallowed it, noting that the aura radiating from Ravenwing outward cooled down the surrounding cats significantly.

“I mean…” Mousefur grimaced. “He’s definitely in trouble, but… maybe punishing him too hard would cause him to leave anyway.”

“It’s easier to run to safety than face an entire Clan,” Goldenflower agreed. She spoke to Fireheart now. “He’s just an apprentice. He still has the capacity to learn and grow. You were barely his age when you came to us.”

“He needs to stop regardless,” Halftail retorted curtly. “He’s betraying the code, no matter how old he is.”

Mutters of agreement followed this. Dustpelt and Whitecloud whispered something to each other before Whitecloud looked back up at Fireheart.

“He’s already restricted to camp when he’s alone,” he said. “And he enjoys his apprentice duties. What can you offer that will ensure he understands?”

Fireheart’s eyes unfocused as he thought. An idea he really didn’t like was forming in his head.

“He’ll already have to face all of us,” he said slowly. “It’d be as close to isolation as he could get without actually living outside. But…”

“He needs something stronger to set it in stone,” Willowpelt said, more contemplative than angry.

“He’ll have it.” Fireheart breathed in again, bracing himself for his own ruling. “He won’t be allowed to visit her again, whether or not I’m with him.”

“And if he does anyway?” Lizardtail asked.

Fireheart’s claws unconsciously dug into the stump. Even when forcing it out, his voice was soft. “Then I’ll personally ensure he stays there for the rest of his life.”

This was met with complete, stunned silence. Even Darkstripe stared at him in surprise.

Ravenwing hesitantly broke the quiet. “Are you positive you can do that?”

“More than I’d like to be,” Fireheart sighed out, grateful that the breath wasn’t as shaky as his innards were feeling. He looked down. “Whitecloud, Dustpelt, does that sound fair?”

Dustpelt blinked at the sudden attention, but recovered quickly. “It does to me.”

“That will solve the issue either way,” Whitecloud concurred. He gestured for Fireheart to move, then jumped onto the stump, standing by the young tom’s side as he spoke to the Clan. “We need to remember that Cloudpaw is very young and very misguided. Fireheart has done his best for him, and he has the chance to change, like Goldenflower said.” His eyes went to Fireheart. “But we can’t afford to have a cat with us who proves himself disloyal and selfish. If his uncle and mentor decrees it, he’ll be sent to live as a kittypet. Our task is to encourage him to stay with us, not give him more reason to run away. Speak sternly, but don’t scream and threaten. Let him know this is his home for as long as he’s loyal to it.”

The Clan gave spotted nods and murmurs of agreement. Whitecloud turned to Fireheart fully.

“We’ll wait for him to come home on his own tonight,” he said. “If he’s late by morning, you can go get him yourself. He can have this last meeting with his mother.”

“She didn’t even raise him,” someone grumbled. “Why should she be rewarded for giving him up?”

“This will be as much a loss for her as it is for him,” Whitecloud said calmly. “She will suffer the consequences of never seeing him again.” He added to Fireheart, “And you need to stay away from there, too. Let her understand how Clan society works.”

Fireheart said nothing. He simply nodded, a slithering unhappiness in his gut.

---

Cloudpaw did not come back in the morning.

Fireheart was allowed to go out and search for a bit, just to make sure there were no dead ginger-pointed apprentices sprawled out in the fading snow. He found nothing—no scent of dog, no scent of Cloudpaw, not even a piece of prey making itself known. Despite his protests, Whitecloud had him come back to camp and wait with the rest.

Cloudpaw did not return by the next evening.

Two patrols were sent out to try and find his trail, or him himself. The damp and cold smothered what little was on the way to the Houses. Fireheart led one of the patrols into the northern forest, just in case his nephew was hiding. He was not.

The morning came. Cloudpaw still wasn’t home.

Even the cats angry with the little apprentice began peering out of the camp entrance, coming back in with concerned headshakes. Another patrol, this time in the south, produced nothing of note besides the scent of dog.

Aspenpaw, by this point, hadn’t stopped shaking since she woke up, muttering about Cloudpaw’s disappearance as Goldenflower tried to soothe her. Brightpaw wasn’t much better, staring down at the ground with trembling whiskers, like she was imagining what state Cloudpaw’s body was in.

When the night finally arrived, Fireheart went to Whitecloud, very aware of all the anxious eyes on him.

“I’d like permission to search for him in the Houses,” he said. “With a patrol.”

Whitecloud simply nodded. “Take who you want.”

Fireheart only had to glance behind himself to see Greystripe and Ravenwing trotting up to him, eyes determined, if worried. “I’ll take them.”  

“You’ve got us,” Greystripe said.

Ravenwing turned to Snowpaw, who had started following him, and signed for him to stay home. Snowpaw looked downcast, but he agreeably blinked and returned to his sister’s side. Aspenpaw hurried up to Fireheart just as he was about to leave and pawed at his leg to get his attention.

“Please,” she whispered, “please bring him home.”

Fireheart met her eyes with a kind, reassuring gaze. “I’ll do my best. I know I’ll find him alive.”

Aspenpaw moved her mouth, but she said nothing in return and stepped back, watching the trio trot out of camp in silence. Fireheart could feel her eyes on him even outside in the woods.

He paused for a moment, just to look at his friends. They caught up to him, both resting their tails on his sides in silent companionship. Fireheart managed a purr, turned for the Houses, and started running.

[forestclan-clangen]

MOON 2 (Final)

(Note to new viewers: the scenes have dead pixels on purpose! It's meant to emulate a cartridge game you found plugged into an old TV set!) << FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

Redstar goes to the border and finds a cat on the Thunderpath. She checks to see if this was the work of the woods, but no; the cat was run over by a Twoleg vehicle. She jumps when the cat groans in pain, still alive. Not wanting to leave a cat to die to the woods, she brings them back to camp. Windfur works quickly to fix their broken back, afraid of failing Redstar.

(Redstar, leader, female, 61 moons) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 16 moons) (???, loner, female, unknown age)

---

"Windfur!"

The young medicine cat's ears perked as he heard his name being called. He put down the marigold and tansy he was sorting and quickly pushed past the hanging ferns that covered the medicine den's entrance.

The sunlight warmed the camp as it pierced through the tall pines that usually created dappled shadows, making Windfur wince for a moment before averting his eyes elsewhere.

"I'm needed?" he asked loudly.

"Yes! Redstar brought back someone," Cloudthunder piped up as she leapt off the top of one of the great walls surrounding their camp. She had already dashed towards the entrance with concern before Windfur could speak.

Windfur's eyes immediately fell on the camp's main entrance, and his fur bristled as he saw Redstar carrying a brown tabby she-cat on her back. Iciclepool and Talonpaw must have crossed into Redstar on the way back to camp, as the two were trying to keep the tabby stable by hugging Redstar's sides.

Windfur ran up to them and looked at Redstar crossly."Are you being followed?"

He knew his clanmates never liked him asking this one question before anything else. But he remembered the last time he started working before the danger was gone.

"No," said Redstar.

Windfur beckoned the three cats towards the medicine den with his tail. He started pushing around his herbs and a bed of moss. His heart started racing with anxiety. He forced himself down his routine checklist to keep calm. "Any obvious injuries?"

"I think her back is broken. She was run over by a Twoleg monster," Redstar replied.

Windfur frowned as he started grabbing flat stones and ripped tree bark, elevating certain sections of a bed. His mind fell into autopilot as he started reciting procedures like Chicoryglint used to teach him.

"Redstar, lie down on your stomach, as carefully as you can. Iciclepool and Talonpaw, stick your heads under the tabby's forelegs and back legs until her belly is under your necks."

Iciclepool complied, and Talonpaw grunted as he shoved his nose under the molly's body and wrestled with her fur to bring her over him.

"Then, walk over Redstar and slowly place the molly on her side. Have your paws as a cushion for her back. I'll grab her. Careful - "

As Windfur saw the condition of the molly's lower back, he panicked as Talonpaw lowered too quickly. "Talon, TALON! Slower!"

"Like you're about to stretch, Talonpaw," Redstar added, more calmly.

"Sorry, sorry," Talonpaw hissed as he glanced nervously at his mentor, trying to match her level. Windfur grabbed the molly and secured her back on the elevated segment he made, then secured her down, grabbing vital points where his clanmate's heads were.

"Okay, you're good," he said, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Now gently pull yourselves out from under her. I've stabilized her spine, it should be okay."

Windfur waited for the two cats to part from the tabby before beginning his process. He muttered under his breath the mantra his mentor taught him for broken bones - Brittlebone the Caster. How did it start again? His memory dug at a middle-aged molly looking down at him with a shine in her eyes. She then recited a nursery rhyme...

Broken was the bone of Brittlebone-he,

Low on the spine, the tail end-be...

"Lift up the back, and align the spine," Windfur mumbled as he started his work, grazing his tail over his patient's spine and finding the bone that seemed shifted from the rest. He found the proper alignment and shifted around the moss and lifting stones until her body didn't shift any more, then started applying his medicines as he remembered them. "Disinfect the wound and pull the twine..."

"Windfur?"

"Let me work," he said, careful to hold back on his bite. "Please. I'll let you know of her condition when I'm done, Redstar. I promise."

His surroundings became distant hums as he focused intently on his task. He shot the occasional glance at the molly's chest to make sure she was still breathing, and checked the pulse under her front legs. He barely registered the three cats leaving the medicine den, too determined to make sure that his patient lived.

That was his task. His job. It's what he was good at. He couldn't be distracted and possibly make a mistake. If he did, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. He had to do this right. He never had the gift of surgical precision in the midst of chaos like Chicoryglint did. So he needed the silence to get this right.

As he started building a cast out of hardened bark, hoping to mold the spine back in place, he imagined Chicoryglint's spirit watching him, and waiting, her dark grey, long-haired tail wrapped over her paws. Windfur's breath shook for a moment, and then he continued, mumbling the rest of the song under his breath as his paws gently pulled a temporary cast into place.

"Stable was the bone, of Brittlebone-he,

Of hard bark and soft moss, the cast must be,

Fitting for the Caster, of ForestClan, see."

---

After some time, the loner wakes and expresses gratitude, although her eyes and demeanor seem to speak otherwise. Her name is Olive, and she joins reluctantly, mainly because she can't go anywhere with a broken back. After listening to Clan life, she offers to be a mediator, having experience with negotiating with loners and kittypets.

(Redstar, leader, female, 61 moons) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 16 moons) [NEW CLAN MATE ADDED] Olive (mediator, female, 58 moons. Calm.)

< PREVIOUS | NEXT >

[eolaiactis]

Last year I played a game called Rusted Moss and really liked it! It's a cool metroidvania with a grappling hook and very fun boss fights!

I just had to make some fanart of it since a big update came out, so here's Fern, the protagonist, with her partner Puck!

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Looks like we gotta put Katsuki in his place…or try to, anyways. Augh @cashmoneyyysstuff is literally my savior hereee ilyyy Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, reader befriends Kaminari and Sero, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus and Cattus, fight scene between you and Bakugou, really BAD depictions of a fight scene, reader's down bad LMAO, two characters aren't from MHA but are there for the plot, mentions of overexertion, Bakugou challenges you to a fight, a tualia is a type of duel for reference,

Pairing(s): Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: Ten, Again

“Daaaaaaamn Cattus.” Hanta drawls, approaching you once training ended for the day. You hadn’t moved a bit- rooted to where you stood when Bakugou challenged you to a fight.  

“Got a duel on the first day, huh? Against the great ol’ ‘War Dragon’ too.” Denki chimes in, slinging an arm around your shoulder.  

“Was nice knowing you two.” you mumble, regret laced in your tone. You joined the army to avoid trouble, not cause it. 

Denki nods sagely, patting your back in an attempt to console you. “What flowers do you want for your funeral?” 

Hanta rolls his eyes, slinging his arm over your shoulders as well. “Eh, I think Cattus’ll beat the ‘Pissy Lizard’ any day- man's probably got some secret moves he isn’t spilling.” the ravenette says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  

You sigh, internally cackling at Hanta’s take on the captain’s nickname, but chose to address the latter statement.  

“I haven’t trained since I was ten though! An entire decade ago!” you groan, and Hanta raises an eyebrow.  

“What’s stopping you from training now then? There’s some dummies we passed a few minutes ago that Moss Bear said was for public use.” 

You blink- how in the world did they know so much about this place and you didn’t? 

You ask them, and Denki just snorts, pulling your wolf’s knot teasingly.  

“You sir, are the King of Moping. You’re too busy lamenting your stay here, and so you don’t appreciate hanging out with your bros” Denki says, sighing dramatically.  

Sero flicks your forehead “And while you were busy off in space, you overhear some things.” 

You groan. Maybe Fern Bat was right. About you, not your father.  

But he wasn’t going to be for long.  

You were going to train as hard as you could to make up for the last 10 years of your life.  

*** 

It was almost midnight when you finally put down the sword, muscles aching, body feverish and drenched with sweat, you worked so hard you felt like you were going to vomit.  

“Shit...” you mutter, letting your sword clatter to the ground, resting your head against the nearby tree.  

You wanted water, and a shower, but you didn’t have that luxury right now. Right now...you had rest, rest was good. Good enough at least. 

Though you were thoroughly exhausted in every meaning of the word, you felt...rejuvenated. Alive, almost.  

You had to admit, you changed a lot in the last week than you had in your entire life, more fierce, more bold, more confident even. You felt...free. Though you loved your family with your entire heart, mind, soul, and being, not having the responsibility to tend to others 24/7 was relieving.  

What wasn’t relieving however was the impending fight you had tomorrow.  

Oh well. 

If you were going down, you wouldn’t make it easy, that’s for sure.  

In the light of the waning moon, you smirk to yourself. 

You were going to remind the so called “War Dragon” that while they grew flowers, cacti still had thorns.  

*** 

You woke up the next morning, early, much to Denki and Hanta’s annoyance, but they understood enough to let you be and give you shit for it later.  

 It’s early enough that no one is awake right now, and so you slip away from the mass of tents and training equipment to find solace in the nearby lake, one you noticed when first arriving here, taking a much-needed wash to cleanse yourself of the dirt, grime and sweat from the previous night. 

It was relaxing and refreshing- exactly what you needed to get yourself in the right mindset for your battle. Icy water laps at your skin, cleansing you from worries and emotions that you couldn’t afford to feel right now. Usually, you would complain and shiver about the temperature of the water you were in- but right now, you felt new. 

Right now, you couldn’t be Y/N.  

Right now, you were Cattus. 

*** 

Thump. 

Thump. 

Thump. 

Your heart beats thrums steadily against your ribcage, like a gong or a rhythmic drum sounding over and over again.  

And across from you, those stupidly pretty ruby eyes. 

You couldn’t be falling for him. 

You couldn’t be falling for him. 

Stupid Pissy Lizard. 

You stare at the Adonis of a man in front of you, finally drinking in his features.  

Chiseled jawline, slim waist, hulking figure. Long eyelashes that housed those eyes you loved so much, and spiky hair that jutted in every direction, similar to the horns and spikes of a dragon. Plush lips that stretched across the smug grin on his face. 

Damn. 

That might be a slight problem. 

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” the soldiers that crowded you chanted, louder and louder, in sync with the beating of your heart.  

You were a warrior.  

With a cry, you lunge forward at the sound of the gong, just as Bakugou does.  

And suddenly, you were ten again.  

You see him move without him moving, noticing the muscles in his right arm clench every so slightly, meaning he would strike your left side.  

Dropping to your knees, you slide underneath the blade, ignoring the pain the friction caused against your knees and kick your legs out to knock him off balance too.  

He stumbles, before whipping back to face you, already on your feet, and preparing to strike for his abdomen.  

“Remember Y/N.” you father had told you. “When facing an opponent who excels in strength, you must beat them in speed.” 

Bakugou was strong, you could give him that. Extremely so, with skills so refined that you could barely find the chinks in his armor. He was fast too. 

You would just have to be faster.  

“Become the wind, embrace it, embody it.” you hear your dad’s voice in your head. “And once you do, overcome it.” 

“Be faster, better, become more than the wind could ever be.” 

Bakugou blocks your strike, but is taken aback at your speed, growling as he used the momentum to push you off him, leaving you skidding against the dirt, yet you maintain your footing, and your stance. 

Sword clash, as you fight tirelessly, the soldier surrounding you watching intently. They didn’t expect you to last this long- neither did Bakugou. Were you actually going to win? 

And yet, in reality, what could a single gust of wind do against a fire breathing dragon? 

Just as you couldn’t win against your father, you couldn’t win against Bakugou.  

But you knew that. 

That wasn’t what you were concerned about. You could hold your own against the captain of an army squadron, and Bakugou knew that. You have proven your point.  

Now, you were just toying with him.  

You felt sluggish, overexerting yourself well beyond your limit at this point- knowing that in these types of challenges, a tualia in specificness, the only way to win was to pin your opponent down for 10 seconds.  

Given his sheer size and strength, you knew that pinning him down for that long would be impossible. You came to terms with that a long time ago. 

Bakugou’s chest heaved, sweat dripping down his neck. He was just as tired as you were, but still royally ticked off. You could see why they called him a dragon now, eyes narrowed in concentration and breathing so heavily smoke could exit his nostrils.  

Running straight at him, you direct yourself as if to collide with him, the latter bracing for impact before you spin around, hooking your foot around him, and causing him to fall on his back.  

Taking the opportunity, you place your forearm on your collarbone, putting as much weight as your could afford at that moment, pinning him down. 

“One...two...three...” you mutter, loud enough that the other soldiers could hear you.  

Holy shit. Was this going to work?  

Bakugou’s breath comes out ragged and labored- he's tired. 

“Four...five..uff!” you cough out as Bakugou suddenly headbutts you and reverses your stance, him now pinning you.  

Shit!

“One...two...three” he starts counting, voice so low and gravelly it sounds almost unhuman.  

He’s not growling now though, he seems subdued almost, like he just wants to get this over with. 

“Four...five...six...seven...” 

You don’t bother squirming, or trying to escape, already sensing your tualia coming to an end. You can’t help but feel butterflies erupt in your stomach from the proximity and you mentally open a cage to stuff them through- you'd deal with those feelings later.   

“Eight...nine...fucking ten.” he groans, getting off of you, and allowing you to finally breathe, relaxing into the ground, but Denki and Hanta help you up anyways, awestruck.  

“You almost beat him!” Denki gushes, giddy with excitement.  

Hanta nods in assent. “I knew I said you might have secret skills, but damn. I don’t think Bakugou’s gone up against anyone who’s still alive to tell the tale.” 

You chuckle dryly, too tired to share their enthusiasm but grateful for it nonetheless. 

“C’mon guys, let’s get back to the tent.” 

Taglist: @andysdrafts @starieq @nemisimp @missa-archdevilme @coquettefoxxy

@032loe @icedemon1314 @fta1ask4 @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @cuppalevi

@touyasprettydoll @slayfics @yeehawgiddyup13 @notjustanotherextra @frvv

@naoyasbby @sweetblueworm @isentsworld @bkgpackets @moonnm

@bkgrl @satoruyes @eyesforbkg @juicyfingers @aejabba

@noodleryworld @yui-aya @ashiblossom @rv19 @wheezdostuff

@yannvi @liluvtojineteyam @surprisemodafakas @sagejin @kksmush

@cax-per @kit-katsukii

[ask-the-dunmeshi-biologists]

What are y'alls favorite ecosystems?

Laios: The Australian Outback is full of some of the most amazing and deadly species on the planet, with unique adaptations that are rare to find anywhere else on earth. It has some of the most incredible views, and the arid environment is always persevering and thriving in the most unexpected ways. The outback is a place of constant wonder and nostalgia for me. Ever since I was a kid, and up until recently really, I always struggled to find a place where I could fit in and be myself. Me and Falin grew up on a small Emu farm in the bush, so I spent a lot of time on the outskirts of the outback, sticking to the same paths so that I wouldn't get lost, and despite it being dangerous, as long as I was careful, it ended up providing a safe haven for me until I saved up enough to leave the country and forge my own path in the world.

Falin: Definitely Tropical Rainforests, they hold the largest number of insect species on the planet (2.5 million in the Amazon Rainforest alone!) and are endless in their importance. There are so many things left to discover in them, from hundreds of hidden cave systems, around 80,000 plant species and, along with the ocean, they act almost as the lungs of the earth, providing most of the oxygen we need to survive. Last year, Marcille and I worked with SPUN trying to map as many mychorrzial fungi as possible, in several tropical forests of South America, Africa and Australia. After a year spent buried in the undergrowth, among the ferns, moss and mulch, it's like you can feel Earth's beating heart. I would love to return to one of them soon.

Marcille: Archipelagos. Groups of islands, both tropical and temperate are my favourite places of study. Every island has it's own unique ecosystem and these multitudes of them contain the secrets of evolution, genetics and cultural changes throughout history. From animals adapting to each island and forming new species, to ethnobotany and traditions that change and adapt, stemming from when people first took to the sea, and the legacies they leave behind to this day.

Chilchuck: The Irish Countryside. Valleys, Vales or Dales, whatever you wanna call them, there's nowhere I like being more. Despite having travelled the world with Laios, Falin, Marcille, and later Senshi, there isn't much that compares to the rolling hills of home.

Senshi: Microbiomes of all habitats. People often overlook the importance of the little things, and all the good they do for us in return for leaving them be. Macrophotography has always been a large passion of mine, and I'm fortunate enough to have landed a career in capturing the beauty of it all.

[soft-sounds-of-our-mortal-love]

While You Sleep by Anita Skeen

This is a poem I found in a book I've had for a couple years and it immediately reminded me of Tai and Van! The book is called 'LGBTQ Fiction and Poetry from Appalachia' and I got it from Barns and Nobel a couple years ago, I do recommend for any poetry and short story lovers out there!

These mountains sleep

side by side, nesting shoulder

along shoulder, knee behind knee,

asking for my hand to reach out

through this cabin window,

to reach up toward the blue arc

of the hip, the green lift of the breast,

to lose my hand in the channels

of rivers, my fingers tickling in the streams.

In this first light I can barley

call light, how the mist

rises from their curves, how their forms

quicken as I reach

toward them, how they reel in

breath when my hand brushes

trillium and fern, my fingertips

hush over moss. My hand flutters

like moth wing, like falling dogwood

among the spring leaves,

slips under the rocky ribs of the creek

beds, ascends the explosion of rapids

to my cupped hand. Damp

and pungent, my hand returns to me,

fingers tracing my open lips

as these hills open to rain.

[blenselche]

They duck into the tree and Finn sets their catch down near the pantry, when he turns back around Huntress Wizard is holding a glowing hand out to Fern’s forehead with a sneer.

“Hey! Heyhey no,” he rushes to its side, curling an arm around its shoulders as he pushes her arm down. “What the heck, HW?”

“It is dangerous,” is all she says.

“No- no, no he’s not. Come on,” he herds Fern upstairs.

“You’re enabling it, you’ll never not be cursed if you don’t let me work!” she calls after them.

“I never said I wanted that!” The door snaps shut behind them. “Dude, what was she trying to do?”

“Put me to sleep,” Fern drops their bags and kicks the space heater on. “I am like this for less time that way.”

Finn sits in the recliner, setting the banjo that was on it across his lap. “I’m starting to understand why you’re so insecure about what you are, if that’s how she reacts to it,” he murmurs to himself. “You should move in.”

“Compare this to my old space, I’d rather have a window, even if my roommate wants to put me down.” It collapses back on the bed and grows widely, sinking its roots into the floor.

“No, I mean move in-move in.” Fern’s head raises from the mattress to look him up and down. “We don’t use the jail,” Finn explains.

Its face disappears again, thumping back into the moss, mammal brain trickling back through to the front of his consciousness making him drowsy. “I’ll think about it.”

Finn sighs and sluggishly plucks at the instrument, hand curling to claw hammer over the strings deftly, metal fingers adding a twang along its frets that’s pleasant and reminiscent of slide guitar.

“Oh, weird.” Finn laughs.

“What?” Fern sits up on his elbow.

“I know how to do this,” Finn says, voice thin and a bit spooked.

“I don’t understand.”

“I shouldn’t.” Finn looks up at him quickly before staring down at himself as chords and roll patterns come to him instinctively. He stops. “I, uh, oh man,” he chuckles, “that’s freaky. Like hopping back on a bike, except I’ve got weird amnesia and didn’t even know I could ride one.”

―keep yourself ch 3