#Winter Tundra (character)

[ordheist]

chilly knight

[black-suns-rim]

Tundra region Loreirrans

I can’t sleep and I’m too impatient to wait for the poll to end, so I’m just gonna jump right in and talk about my OG alien species, the Loreirrans. Let’s start off with one of the regional appearances.

This group of loreirrans live in the cold and harsh environments of Icera-5. They have adapted to the cold weather with thick fur and the ability to breath in the dry, cold air without discomfort. The babies are hatched without fur but they quickly develop a thick coat only hours after hatching. The tundra Loreirrans prefer to live in homes that aren’t filled with technology, being more connected with their spiritual side. They have a more tribal way of living and regional government compared to other regional Loreirrans. Their homes are traditionally built out of the materials available to them in their area, such as wood, snow, moss, animals pelts and so on. Since there aren’t that many cold places on Icera-5 besides the small polar caps, this species of loreirran isn’t as plentiful as the others.

[numbugwritingblog]

Welcome to the New Realm! (Chapter 4)

Previous Chapter

Index

---

04/05/2018

Ah, the potion of waking.

While it cannot stave off sleep indefinitely, it’s more than a suitable option when you only need to stall sleep for one extra day.

Jett knew it was the last potion he was provided for a reason, so that Grace could at least afford him the chance to relax from the radio. Indeed he drank it all down at once, giving Grace a distinctly casual kiss on the cheek before teleporting off.

Indeed, Jett knew that Grace would not be offended by that like most people would, that was as usual of a goodbye as they ever gave.

Trailing a finger along his bag, checking that he had all of his potions at the ready Speed, Strength, Echolocation, Tracking, Reverse Injuries, Invisibility, Teleport Sense, Reverse Injuries…

Yep, check.

Oh?

There’s a potion of Crustacean Strength, too. He was not going to get up close against Scythe, but he supposed it’s there if he needs it.

Finally, he checked his spare ammo and emergency vials of arcane energy - he still did not understand how any mage can do that yet alone Grace, he’s tried to store arcane energy like that and kept accidentally casting spells.

All good.

So Jett began walking forwards towards where he can tell Scythe’s presence is. The short but uneventful walk was quickly stopped as his echolocation picked up two people, with something in their hands - presumably guns by the way they were carrying it and their posture. “Halt! Identify yourself!”

Jett stopped as instructed, waiting patiently. “General, another intruder is present.”

Even behind his sunglasses, his raised eyebrow was barely visible to them. “Are the other intruders one who speaks like an animal and another who’s been described as pale? I’m here to stop them.”

“Stay right there!” Soldiers alerted.

Well cooperation’s out of the question now. Bullets could be a threat to him, but with his potions readied up hitting him in a vital area is an unrealistic problem. Still though, best to avoid conflict.

“Sure, I’ll wait right here. You don’t mind if I take a drink, right?”

“I guess that’s fine…”

Good. Jett trailed the potions carefully, selecting the potion of invisibility and drinking it right down. He could feel his body - skin, internals, even his eyes - shifting and morphing to match the changes made by the potion.

Light no longer reflected off of him (nor his clothes, after the New Realm experimented with the spell for about 300 years - he would’ve hated the idea of stripping entirely just to use this), instantly rendering him invisible.

“Open fire!”

Jett leapt right past them before they could even pull the trigger, leaving the two of them shooting at nothing.

Being invisible also meant being blinded, but that didn’t mean anything to someone who was already blind.

But it did mean that Jett had to be far more stealthy from here on, largely relying on foreign sounds for his echolocation to avoid giving himself away.

Not that he was particularly worried, he’s trained in invisible stealth precisely as one of the few mages who could utilise it without drawback, and that’s with the New Realm knowing that it’s realistically possible. No, his only concern was how his targets would deal with him.

Afterall, he knew Valentine’s speciality…

---

This treasure hunt was nearing its end.

Valentine made no attempt at stealth - she didn’t need to with her bodyguards and her magic combined - instead casually walking forth with Scythe in the front. Trailing right behind was an absolutely massive lizard, carrying a large, two-handed axe in one hand.

Her excitement at being so close contrasted with his dull expression, despite doing everything he could to guard the rear end.

Not that there was much need. Scythe’s magic was a perfect counter to firearms, most soldiers only getting a single shot before she reflects it into a vital organ and striking them dead immediately.

Indeed, these ten guards in the hallway in front of them were technically the greatest threat they’ve faced so far.

Yet eleven bullets was all it took to incapacitate them, and Scythe took the moment to slice into each and every one, the rapid necrosis doing the job of killing them.

“It would be more efficient to let them live,” the lizard at the back spoke up, his helpful words in direct contrast to the venom in his voice.

“Thoroughness is of the utmost importance until we find the Final Spell. A living soldier could serve as a distraction or even speak on their strange devices to destroy it.” Besides the cruelty behind killing everyone they came across, Valentine had no reaction to any of it, besides one. “Besides, none of them are of any value to us alive. This is their punishment for daring to oppose us while they’re as weak as they are.”

The lizard let out a low growl, glaring directly at Valentine, gripping his weapon.

Valentine stopped, prompting Scythe to stall in kind. She turned to the lizard, grinning wide. “Well, Winter Tundra, you wish to oppose me?”

The lizard, codenamed Winter Tundra, let out a low growl in response, gripping his weapon - the posture making it clear he was quite capable of wielding this two-handed weapon with one hand. Then he ceased, anger fading away as he lowered his stance.

“Good boy.”

Anger flared back up, Tundra swung his weapon without a moment’s hesitation towards Valentine! Nobody demeans him like that!

The weapon passed through Valentine like she wasn’t there, before she approached him and flung a pin-point “needle” - one that was pure black as it pulled in nearby light - which pierced through Tundra and knocked him down onto his hands and knees.

Effortlessly defeating him, she put a foot on top of his head. As she looked down to him she grinned wide. “What are you?”

Tundra growled in a low tone.

“Say it.”

He hated this with every single fibre of his body, and yet he could not disobey. “... I’m a good boy.” Just the words sickened him.

“No, you’re a naughty boy, thinking you stood a chance against me. Remember that for next time.”

Tundra growled once more, and yet stayed still. Even as Valentine put her foot off of his head he remained still.

Valentine let out a small chuckle. A chuckle that instantly stopped. “Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to hear you, Jett?”

Silence - and yet all three of them could tell, getting into position. The fact that Scythe and the lizard man were both staring at him told Jett that they had trained in fighting while blinded, exactly as he had assumed. There was no point in hiding from them.

“I don’t know who you are, but there’s very few people who know my real name, I’ve made sure of it. Scythe, reduce it by one.”

Forgot who he was? Jett reached for his gun, and the auto-aim flicked his arm right out to aim right at Valentine. “You really don’t remember me? Because I’ve never forgotten you…” It took him a moment to focus, his aim flickering over to Scythe instead.

Scythe walked past Valentine and Tundra, and yet she did not leap in yet. This witch hunter has fought her twice, and lived both of them. It’s likely that he was already expecting her to act hyper-aggressive, and so she wouldn’t be able to overwhelm him.

Jett fired out a single shot and dodged the incoming reflection easily. He did not approach nor retreat, however. When both of them could teleport, such movements only mattered from moment to moment.

It was then Scythe teleported, Jett’s automatic aim flicking right behind him - forcing the lurcher to awkwardly twist his body just to avoid injuring himself - a moment that allowed her to strike into him with her scythe, immediately kicking him away towards Valentine.

A free victory on a silver platter, and yet Valentine did nothing.

As such Jett could heal himself up quickly with one of his healing potions. Then he got back up to his feet, swinging at Valentine.

As he swung through, she briefly vanished from his echolocation before promptly reforming. With that alone he could tell that she was either teleporting or becoming non-solid.

Scythe charged in at the attack on Valentine, hissing loudly.

Jett leapt away from the attack, landing on the ground before unloading his entire clip at once. Every shot at him he had to avoid, but he jumped ahead in the way of Valentine and her silent enforcer.

They went through Valentine, like Jett had predicted. But they struck the lizard well and truly, but then he heard the shells land on the ground.

Winter Tundra was not harmed by the barrage of bullets.

That could be bad.

Growling, he lifted up a weapon to attack, only to be stopped by Valentine raising her hand. “Stand aside, Winter Tundra.”

Jett ducked underneath Valentine’s swing, swinging his gun into her with enough force to send her colliding with the roof. He leapt up to finish the blow, only for Scythe to teleport away once more.

Jett collided against the roof before launching off just as easily, landing on his feet. He launched towards one wall in this hallway, and then the other, and then back to the first one, each leap sending him closer to Scythe.

She swung her scythe to defend herself, Jett leaping onto the side of it, pushing himself off the inner end of the blade to punch her in the face.

But even with the impact Scythe was not mindless, lifting the scythe just enough to cut to his arm. “Dammit,” Jett muttered, shuffling into his bag for another potion.

She knew it was another healing potion, and so without wasting a beat she thrust straight into the glass container.

She only realised her mistake once the glass bottle shattered. Jett dropped the already empty potion before it even collided, as instead his hand swung down to catch the wooden stafflike part of the scythe and pulled it in with all of his force.

His kick to the face was enough to forcibly drop her grip on it, and he quickly dropped his gun to have a free hand in order to bring out an actual healing potion, uncorking it with his teeth as he drank it down.

Before Scythe could get close Jett swung it 180 so that the blade end faced her. This wasn’t good, but she has had her blade stolen from her before. She can-

“That’s enough.”

Scythe immediately backed away, glaring at Jett - and at her own weapon.

“I’m impressed, Deadeye.” Immediately, Jett knew what that meant. “Your recruitment shall begin now.”

He had only one option.

He threw the scythe directly at Tundra, prompting the giant lizard man to defend himself while Scythe simultaneously dashed in to grab her weapon.

Jett then teleported straight to one of the dead soldiers, rapidly feeling for the speaker and gripping it tightly. “Destroy the final spell! It should be an old parchment with unknown-!”

He was knocked off of his feet from an attack by Valentine, flung across the hallway until he collided with the opposite wall. “If you’re lucky they won’t destroy it before I’m done with you!” Valentine hissed out as she formed more “needles” in the small gaps between her fingers, each one held aloft purely by her magic. Even she didn’t want to touch them.

Jett coughed, grinning wide despite the attack that sent him tumbling. “Clock’s ticking, then.”

Valentine wordlessly glared at the still-invisible Jett. Walking towards him. She was furious, and her silence alone told Jett just how much.

And yet…

“Winter Tundra, you handle recruitment. Scythe, search for any leads to the Final Spell. With any luck I’ll have everything I need by the day’s end.”

Jett slowly got to his feet, grinning wide in the knowledge that his plan worked, quickly teleporting behind Valentine and Scythe to ensure neither of them would strike him as they passed by.

Then his grin faded.

Everything she needed? No, that meant…!

Jett jumped back to avoid a heavy swing of the axe, feeling a cold chill spread out as he dashed away.

Tundra lifted one hand from his axe, swinging it out to flick out a bitter spray of ice cold water at Jett.

Contact instantly made him start shivering, hypothermia was suddenly a concern when it wasn’t moments ago. “Grr…”

Krios then lifted an arm up, the cold water around Jett instantly freezing into ice and leaving him trapped in place. “You’re lucky that she wanted you recruited, otherwise I’d have frozen you on the spot. Actually…”

He paused, thinking through what he was saying.

“... No. No, you’re not lucky at all. Death is better than this.”

Jett needed to get out of here!

He needed to save Grace and-!

If he just teleported to them, Tundra is going to follow and then him and this mystery foe will just team up…

Jett needed to go somewhere else.

He lifted his arm to cast a teleport spell.

Only for his arm to freeze. He let a sharp inhale at the sudden sting of the chilled ice, unable to break free.

Tundra let out a huff as he finished the spell, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I cannot let you escape this… ‘recruitment’.” His gruff tone softened up the last word, and - even though Jett wouldn’t be able to see it - he looked at Jett with soft eyes, the harshness he had for Valentine replaced with sympathy.

Jett grunted again, gripping his gun with his free hand. Immediately he pulled the trigger, letting the auto-aim take complete control as it harshly flicked his arm towards himself, a single bullet flying out to hit the icy shell trapping his arm.

The arm holding the gun was frozen in response. But it was what Jett needed.

With his hand free of the frozen ice, it meant his hand was completely dry.

He reached down to his belt of potions, pulling out one before Tundra could freeze the rest and downing it immediately, so frantic that some spilled over his lips and he even coughed up a bit that threatened to go into his lungs.

Tundra pulled his axe out of the ground, charging at Jett to swing down on him again.

Deliberately avoiding lethal strikes, he swung into Jett’s gun arm, making the lurcher yell out in pain.

And he continued yelling, his good arm starting to shake.

“It’s futile,” Tundra said softly, kneeling. “The only choice I can give you is to go whole or to go with broken bones.”

Jett continued to yell out in pain, something growing across his arm. Hard, inflexible, brown. It shattered the ice covering his arm, layer by layer, as it slowly took shape. His arm had grown far larger, resembling that of a crustacean like a crab or scorpion.

Jett let out a small chuckle, his teeth still bared to keep himself through the pain. “Alright then. Let’s break some bones.”

His only hope was that he’d be able to get to Grace and Sal in time.

---

Scythe wasn’t even checking which doors were locked and which weren’t. Just one quick slice at the hinges was all it took to send each of the doors to drop down and fall over - no matter whether they were reinforced or not.

Those who so much as raised a weapon at Scythe met a grisly, painful death. But those who weren’t a threat weren’t treated as such.

To an outsider observer it might appear that Scythe was wildly trashing each room she was visiting, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. She was searching. Searching for what will have text from a New Realm language on it.

Room after room.

Kill after kill.

Document after document.

She came up empty.

This next room didn’t even have anyone armed. These scientists backed up and hid in a corner, one brandishing a pipe as a makeshift weapon. They were all in a corner, they weren’t a threat.

As usual Scythe pulled into the drawers, tossing out paper after paper - giving them only a quick glance to confirm what type of language they were using.

Nothing.

She was about to leave when she saw that there was a potted plant on the bench, from a casual glance it looked healthy, but Scythe knew it was in need of something. She should continue on her mission.

But…

Valentine never said she couldn’t water this plant, if she was quick about it.

She approached the potted plant without a noise, raising a hand. She gently placed a finger on it, purposefully weak magic surging through it.

Then she knew what was missing. She raised her hand and cast a small spell to pull in the vapour from the air, which condensed enough to fall into the potted plant all at once.

Satisfied with watering the plant, she continued on.

---

Valentine was far more focused.

She wanted the final spell, and she wanted it bad. She knew that she would find it eventually, the vision she was told meant that the odds were in her favour, but that same vision said she would die by the very witch hunter that was in this base.

It didn’t make sense. She was going to add him to her allyship, he shouldn’t have been a threat to her. Maybe she should have committed to recruitment…

No. No, securing the final spell is more important than getting him out of the way. She just needs to find another way of dealing with this threat.

Right now, her only threat was these military idiots destroying the paper before she could reach it. They’d be throwing away unimaginable potential if they did that. They might even stand a chance against her if these Old Realmers learnt the spell’s secrets.

Destroying it only benefits people who will not help them.

A locked door. Valentine focused on the aura of light absorption she had around herself, expanding it until it covered the other end of the door - and making the area within colder as a direct side-effect.

She dropped her internal thoughts entirely, quantum spells require the utmost concentration…

And she casted it, so now she stood on the other side. “Surrender or die.”

Gunshots, so typical. Valentine stood still, her focus on the quantum disentanglement, letting the bullets harmlessly pass through her atoms.

“So you choose death.”

She condensed matter down, so much so that the light bent around it was barely visible as a pitch black needle, which she “flung” out to the idiot that tried shooting at her.

Unlike her recruits, who were useful alive, this one died instantly as the needle pierced through their vitals, the wound so small that even a mage like her could not see it without magnification.

But she didn’t stop at the one. One of them attacked her, so they must all die.

Needle after needle after needle.

None of them stood a chance.

Once every living person was a dead corpse, Valentine waltzed on into the room. Out of her own shadow, she could see that this was for organising files. If the search didn’t have its own dedicated room, this is a likely candidate.

She opened up the first box, sorting through the papers within.

Results of examination on subject Cirillo- pass.

Results of examination on subject Sánchez- not interested.

Test subject acquired, begin preliminary tests on super soldier project- like these Old Realmers could make anything worthy of being called “super” without magic.

As Valentine searched deeper and deeper, her mind was free to think about the future once more.

She doesn’t know who Jett is, but that name is too familiar to her. It can’t be deja vu, she must have met him before… Especially since he seems to already know her name. Someone who met her and lived to tell the tale…

It doesn’t make sense. He’s a Witch Hunter, so he can’t be some Old Realmer she’s all too happy to ignore. But he clearly knows to search for missing witches in the Old Realm, and she has yet to hear of a Witch Hunter who seriously entertained the thought.

Is he a former witch she crossed paths with? Maybe he turned himself in to avoid the death penalty?

She was about to dismiss the thought, only for something far more important to come to her attention.

New Realm text.

Her eyes were glued to the old parchment as she effortlessly read what this military could not translate.

[translation available at the bottom of the page]

To whomever hath discovered mine final letter.

I has't discovered a spell that is truly horrifying. Its benefits seemeth innocuous at first, but from mine analysis of the spell effects, overuse within a population wilt guarantee the end of all life on the New Realm within 1 year. coequal if 't be true I convinced mine peers of this fact, they’ll just resort to casting this spell in the Fusty Realm and doom those folk to the same fate.

The Fusty Realm might beest filled with fools who want the true glory of us mages, but I still cannot sitteth content with either realm coming to an end. I must destroy all traces of the spell.

I must, and yet can I calleth myself a true wizard if 't be true I doth not preserve the knowledge that I findeth? I cannot betray mine true calling. The only compromise I can bethink of is to hide hence mine knowledge. I has't hath found somewhere secluded to hide hence the instructions on casting the Final Spell, and - just like whither this letter wilt end up - t is within the Fusty Realm.

If 't be true thee art a mage like I, I has't but only one request. Please doth not alloweth the knowledge of this spell falleth into the hands of anyone else.

Teiwaz, the most powerful wizard of New Realm Year 307.

This is a real letter. It fit with everything she knew, even matched Teiwaz’s handwriting. This letter was telling her exactly where the Final Spell was hidden, and it’s the real deal.

And yet.

Yet this stupid egg hunt had just been extended by another step! Why every single time it looked like she was finished there’s just another arbitrary obstacle in the way! It made her want to just-!

No, no, remember the vision. This is good news. Jett’s most likely to kill her once she actually finds the Final Spell. This means that she has longer to prepare for the inevitable. This is… good news.

Frustrating news. But good news.

Now let’s hope her new recruits are ready.

---

Translation of Teiwaz’s letter:

To whomever has discovered my final letter.

I have discovered a spell that is truly horrifying. Its benefits seem innocuous at first, but from my analysis of the spell effects, overuse within a population will guarantee the end of all life on the New Realm within 10 years. Even if I convinced my peers of this fact, they’ll just resort to casting this spell in the Old Realm and doom them to the same fate.

The Old Realm might be filled with fools who lack the true glory of us mages, but I still cannot sit content with either realm coming to an end. I must destroy all traces of the spell.

I must, and yet can I call myself a true wizard if I do not preserve the knowledge that I find? I cannot betray my true calling. The only compromise I can think of is to hide away my knowledge. I have found somewhere secluded to hide away the instructions on casting the Final Spell, and - just like where this letter will end up - it is within the Old Realm.

If you are a mage like I, I have but only one request. Please do not let the knowledge of this spell fall into the hands of anyone else.

Teiwaz, the most powerful wizard of New Realm Year 307.

---

Vote for the next chapter here!

[3zethe3zr]

Art Blocks been kicking my aboslute ass lately so have some silly sketches of me trying to work out how i want different wof characters to look

[krumparrian-portfolio]

Crown of Winter

[phaedraismyusername]

This year some of my favourite books I read were written by indigenous American authors and I just wanted to shout out a couple that I fell in love with

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

Horror being my second most read genre, I did not think books could still get under my skin the way this one did lol. It follows four Blackfoot men who are seemingly being hunted by a vengeful... something... years after a fateful hunting trip that happened just before they went their separate ways. The horror, the dread, the something... pure nightmare fuel 10/10

Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice

An apocalyptic novel following an isolated Anishinaabe community in the far north who lose contact with the outside world. When two of their young men return from their college with dire news, they set about planning on how to survive the winter, but when outsiders follow, lines are drawn in the community that might doom them all. This book is all dread all the time, the use of dreams and the inevitability of conflict weighs heavy til the very end. An excellent apocalypse story if you're into that kind of thing.

My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

This book follows Jade, a deeply troubled mixed race teenager with a shitty homelife who's *obsessed* with slasher movies. When she finds evidence that there's a killer running about her soon-to-be gentrified small town, she weaponises that knowledge to predict what's going to happen next. I don't think this book will work for most people, it's a little stream of consciousness, Jade's head is frequently a very difficult place to be in, but by the last page I had so much love for her as a character and the emotional rollercoaster she's on that I had to mention it here.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger

Taking a bit of a left turn but this charming YA murder mystery really stuck with me this year. Elatsoe is a teenage girl living in an America where myths, monsters, and magic are all real every day occurrences. When her cousin dies mysteriously with no witnesses, she decides to do whatever she can, including using her ability to raise the spirits of dead animals, to solve the case. The worldbuilding was just really fun in this one, but the Native American myths and influence were the shining star for me, and the asexual rep was refreshing to see in a YA book too tbh

Split Tooth by Tanya Tagaq

The audiobook, the audiobook, the audiobook!!!! Also the physical book because formatting and illustrations, but the audiobook!!! Tanya Tagaq is an Inuit throat singer, and this novel is a genre blending of 20 years worth of the authors journal entries, poetry, and short stories, that culminates in a truly unique story about a young girl surviving her teenage years in a small tundra town in the 70s. It is sad and beautiful and hard but an experience like nothing else I read this year.

[arc-misadventures]

Whom do you Relate?

Winter: Jaune, can I ask you something?

Jaune: What is it?

Winter: Among the, Specialists there is a tradition of sorts that we ask our newest members; This question is meant to help us gage the mentality of our newest members. Would you care to answer this question for me?

Jaune: Oh, newest member? Am I being drafted into the, Specialist?

Winter: No, you're... Well, if you're interested I could put in a word with, General Ironwood for you. I told him about your reasoning for seeking to destroy the, Karnivair, and how you planned, and managed to destroy the, Karniviar within a matter of minutes. General Ironwood was most impressed. He would be honoured to have a, Huntsman like you under his service.

Jaune: Oh...

Jaune looked to the side as he took in, and contemplated the words that, Winter had spoken.

Jaune: Thank you, Winter... I'll think about it...

Joining the, Specialist's? Jaune couldn't help, but contemplate the possibility of, joining, Winter, and becoming a, Specialist. Maybe after she was dead he could join...

Jaune: So... what is this question you wish to ask?

Winter: The question we ask new, Specialist members is this: 'What fictional character do you most relate to?'

Jaune: Fictional characters? Why fictional characters, and not some historical figure instead?

Winter: It's fictional characters because it is easier for a person to relate to a fictional character than a real person. A fictional character can be changed, and molded to fit a person interests, desires, and character beliefs. But, a real person is already set in stone, they are who they are. So, we ask what fictional character a new recruit feels like they can relate to as a way to gage their potential, and mind set. So tell me, Jaune: 'What fictional character do you most relate to?'

Jaune looked away from, Winter once more as his contemplated her question before coming to a rather peculiar answer to her question.

Jaune: Before I answer... Who did you most relate to?

Winter: M-Me...?! Well... I-I most related to... The Rusted Knight...

Jaune: The Rusted Knight? The character from the children's book story?

Winter: It is my favourite book okay! I've always like the, Rusted Knight so I always related to him...

Jaune: Can you tell me why?

Winter: Well... Alyx was always protected by the, Rusted Knight. He didn't do it because he wanted anything, but because he wanted to protect her, because it was the right thing to do. And, I feel like that is what I should do, as a Huntress, and even more so as a, Specialist. So.. I relate, and feel inspired to be like the, Rusted Knight. You know...?

Jaune: Ha... Now that's cute...

Winter: C-C-Cute?!

Winter's face was flushed red from embarrassment as she stuttered out her indignation at, Jaune. A soft smile playing across his face as he watched her.

Winter: Excuse me! How is me finding the, Rusted Knight relatable cute?!

Jaune: Well... when I look at you, Winter... It always feel like you're... far off...

Winter: 'Far off?'

Jaune: Distant. Closed off. You are a reserved person by habit, Winter. You're upbringing, and military training made you a quiet, and reserve person. To know that you relate to a character from a children's book makes you feel more human. And... And, it's cute to think of you as a little girl looking up to the, Rusted Knight. A cute little girl looking up to her hero. Isn't that such a nice thought?

Winter's face was flush red as a raging blush spread across her face. She muttered a dew words as she look away from, Jaune.

Winter: N-Now you're just making fun of me...

Jaune: Oh, only just a little.

Winter: Jerk...

Jaune: Haha...

Jaune chuckled softly as he looked out on the frozen tundra of, Atlas.

Winter: Do you... relate to the, Rusted Knight as well?

Jaune: Hmmm... Well... I've always had this weird feeling about the, Rusted Knight... I relate to him... but it doesn't feel like I relate to him as a character, but it feels more... familiar... familial relation...

Winter: Familial? Like a brother?

Jaune: Something like that, but... different. I don't know how to explain it, Winter. Its always just felt that way ever since my mom first read me the story about the, Rusted Knight. I never understood it myself, it just felt that way.

Winter: That's... interesting... In that case, back to my original question: 'What fictional character do you relate to most?'

Jaune: Hmmm...

Jaune's mind went back to her question, and he came back to a simple answer. But, Jaune doubted, Winter would understand.

Jaune: I... I don't relate to anyone... anything...

Winter: Nothing? You feel like you don't relate to anyone?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I don't think so... I never felt like I did... I was inspired by stories of knights; slaying the monster, rescuing the princess, saving the day, stories like that... I mean look at me, I'm a literal knight in shinning armour. Oh...?

Winter: 'Oh?' What's, 'oh?'

Jaune: I guess I relate to the ideal of a knight in shinning white armour. That was a childhood dream of mine, to become the knight in shinning white armour, just like in the stories. But, reality has dulled it's allure, and luster. It's hard to see yourself as the knight in shinning white armour when your armour is covered in mud, and blood...

Jaune look down looking down at his gauntlet, notice now, how much it could do with a cleaning.

Jaune: Well... I'll let others seem me as the knight in shinning white armour... I'll make sure they live long enough to be seen that way.

Jaune clenched his fist, and squeezed it as he made this silent vow to himself. All the while he was unaware as, Winter stared on at him. Shaking her head as she dispelled the scarlet blush creeping across her face.

Jaune: So, does that answer your question, Winter?

Winter: Yes... That answers it beautifully.

Jaune: B-Beautifully? Why did you answer it like that?

Winter: A childhood dream ,and the desire to live it out even when the world throws everything it has at you; That's such a beautiful thought, isn't it?

Jaune: Hmm... I suppose it is...

Winter walked aver to, Jaune her hands behind her back as a radiant smile flashed across his face.

Winter: So, Jaune... I will ask, General Ironwood about the possibility of you becoming a, Specialist. You don't have to say yes, just think on it, okay?

Jaune: Okay. I'll give it some thought.

Winter: Good!

Winter walked past, Jaune before turning on her heel to stare back at him.

Winter: And, if you become a, Specialist... I'll become your new partner!

Jaune: Uhhh... what?

Winter: Tee-hee~!

Winter tilted her head, and winked at him before leaving, leaving a stunned, Jaune just standing there trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Jaune: ...?!

Jaune: The hell...?!

: Oh~? I think she likes you, Jaune.

Jaune turned on the spot to see the ghostly visage of, Pyrrha Nikos standing before him.

Jaune: W-Winter Schnee... l-l-l-likes... me?!

Pyrrha: Yep~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Bullshit...

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Habitats

Coniferous forest - Vast areas of Scandinavia, Russia, Alaska, and Canada are the site of coniferous forests—home to moose, beavers, and wolves.

Mountain - High mountain ranges have arctic climates near the peaks, where few plants grow. Animals must cope in dangerous terrain.

Savanna - These tropical grasslands with wet and dry seasons support huge herds of grazing animals and powerful predators.

Polar ice - The ice that forms on cold oceans is a refuge for animals that hunt in the water. The continental ice sheets are almost lifeless.

Tropical rainforest - The evergreen forests that grow near the equator are the richest of all biomes, with a huge diversity of plant and animal life.

Desert - Some deserts are barren rock and sand, but many support a range of plants and animals adapted to survive the dry conditions.

Tundra - These regions on the fringes of polar ice sheets thaw out in summer and attract animals such as reindeer and nesting birds.

Mediterranean - Dry scrub regions, such as around the Mediterranean, are home to a rich insect life and drought-resistant shrubs and plants.

Temperate grassland - The dry, grassy prairies with hot summers and cold winters, support grazing herds such as antelope and bison.

Deciduous forest - In cool, moist regions, many trees grow fast in summer but lose their leaves in winter. The wildlife here changes with the seasons.

Animals, plants, and all living things are adapted to life in their natural surroundings. These environments are called habitats.

Every living species on Earth has its own favored habitat, which it shares with others. These different species interact with each other and with their natural environment—be it hot or cold, wet or dry—to create a web of life called an ecosystem.

Some ecosystems are very small, but others such as rainforests or deserts cover huge areas. These are called biomes.

Life on Land

Different climates create different types of habitats for life on land. Warm, wet places grow lush forests, for example, while hot, dry regions develop deserts. Each biome consists of many smaller habitats and, in many areas, human activity such as farming has completely changed their character.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Worldbuilding

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 15

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: One more day and I'm a homeowner

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You slow to a crawl amid the retinue of carts and horses. The sun beams down relentlessly on the summer fields. As you laze in a sheen of sweat, Bryce works to tie a swath of linen over the cart in a makeshift canopy. You thank him for his effort, his own brow slick with sweat as he tugs at his mail. 

“I admit my winter’s hide is not made well for this sun,” he utters as he reaches to pet Daisy, the loyal steed tied to his new one as he rides in step with her. “Let’s hope we might reach the tundra in due time.” 

“Mm, it is rather hot,” you murmur, exhausted from the endless blaze. It’s three days thus far and many more ahead of you. 

“Little maid, cannot complain even when you should,” he tuts. 

The cart rolls on, rocking your body as the hooves clomp down on dusty grass. As the train passes over the lands, they leave a trodden path in their stead. The progress is steady but sluggish. 

The wheels creak and lurch to a halt as Bryce reins in both horses. You sit up and peer ahead, unable to see more than horse tails and overloaded carts, the helms of soldiers shining under the sun. The knight on his dark steed sits up straighter, alert as he leans forward. 

“Eh, maid, keep watch on the mare,” he tosses the reins at you as the royal party comes to a halt. 

His horse kicks up dirty as he gallops around the edge of the train. You watch him bend over the beast’s long neck and hurdle ahead of the clog of vehicles and bodies. Something is amiss. 

You wait, nervous, as other servants cluster together and wonder aloud. Soldiers mill up and down the winding retinue, themselves sharing no more than looks. You climb out of the cart and walk on your cramped legs. You stroke Daisy’s head as she huffs through her nostrils and nuzzles your shoulder. 

“I don’t know either,” you tell her softly. 

The pause stretches on and Bryce returns, his horse in a lather. He swings off and lands solidly on his feet. He looks between you and the grey mare. 

“Some hold-up, nothing to worry for,” he explains, “enough time to find some water for these beasts.” 

He takes Daisy’s reins and hands them to you, “come, there is a river near. I can smell it.” 

You peek ahead and squint. You don’t know that you believe it is nothing though you can’t find a reason to argue. You nod and tug on Daisy’s bit. 

The soldier leads you across the grass, well away from the front of the train. Others disperse to sit in the meadow and chew on their rations. You continue into the trees and the trickle of the promised water has Bryce proudly exclaiming. He weaves his way around the trunks to come upon the bank, putting his dark brown horse to drink. As the larger stallion laps noisily, Daisy lowers her head and patiently gulps up the ripples. 

“Where did you find Chestnut?” you ask. “He must be a castle horse.” 

“Aye, he was locked away in some stall. They said he is vicious. Due to be horse pie.” 

“Horse pie? But he is fast.” 

“They did not lie. He likes to nip,” Bryce warns as you step between the horse, “watch your fingers, mouse.” 

“Perhaps he only did not like being locked up,” you suggest and gently touch the horse’s long mane, working out a tangle in the hair. He doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Chestnut?” Bryce says, “you’ve given him a name of your own.” 

“You didn’t say if he had one,” you brush your hand over the fine short hairs along the horse’s shoulder. “I thought it suited him.” 

“Mm, I might call his Hellion but Chestnut is kinder, I s’pose.” 

You chuckle. The horse lifts its head and you near the river’s edge. It turns to sniff you and Bryce reaches for your arm. The horse drips water onto you as it sniffs your neck. It lifts its lip, showing its square teeth, then touches its nose to yours, turning back to the water to nicker. 

“Mm, you do have a way of taming the wildest creatures, eh,” he muses as he lets you go. “Come, I saw some berries back in the bush.” 

You leave the horses near the water and follow the soldier between the trees. As he squats to pluck out dark blackberries, you sway on your feet and glance back toward the road. 

“Why have we stopped, sir?” You ask. 

“Told ya, no matter to worry for,” he stands and offers you a handful, “be thankful for it. We’ve found a nice horde and it will do ya good to be out of the sun. And to eat.” 

You accept the bounty and frown. You know he isn’t telling you all but you know he wouldn’t do so without reason. You stand and pick at the berries, biting in hungrily as the juices coat your mouth. The soldier eats as he picks, plucking a few into his purse as well. 

“How do ya like squirrel meat?” He stands again, “I could find us a morsel for the evening fire. Perhaps a hare if I can.” 

“If you like, sir,” you accept. You chew your lip and search the trees. “Is there truly nothing wrong?” 

“I told ya not to worry,” he growls. “So don’t trouble yerself.” 

He beckons you back towards the river. You follow, not asking any more questions. It’s expected that the road won’t be easy, something just feels awry. 

⚔️

The party makes camp at the point of the delay. You return to the road as Bryce grumbles about the evening warmth. The dry heat lingers in the air even as the sun begins its descent. 

“Come, you will need look in on the queen, I’m certain,” he ties the horses to the cart and urges you along. 

You notice less soldiers as you stride through the train. It’s not so crowded as before. The missing bodies add to your uneasiness. Still, the queen’s tent has been erected and guards keep vigil right outside. You enter and find her alone. She has a veil over her hair as she taps the brim of a cup with her fingernail. 

“Alas, a maid!” She snaps as she sees you, “I’ve been calling for wine all night and those damned soldiers only bring me water.” 

“Your highness,” you back out of the tent. The soldiers do not move. 

You go to the luggage and search for a bottle. You grab one and return to the tent. The soldier at your right extends his arm before you can enter. 

“No wine,” he snatches the bottle, “king’s orders.” 

You blanch and look ahead at the silken flap. You nod and thank the soldier as he keeps the wine under his arm. You blow out between your breath and once more push through the draped fabric. 

“Your highness, there is to be no wine. The king has commanded it,” you say meekly. 

“Pardon me? Who are you to refuse me?” She stands and snarls. “My head is on fire, I need wine.” 

“Yes, your highness, but the king--” 

“I am the queen. My order is a good as his. Bring me wine. Now. You little twit.” 

You stare at her unmoving. 

“They won’t allow it, your highness--” 

A flurry of veil and skirts rushes towards you. Before you can react, a scalding heat radiates over your cheek, the force behind the queen’s slap rattling your head. You stagger back and clutch your head between your hands. 

“You stupid girl! I am the queen! You are a dumb maid!” She strikes you again, her hand glancing off your forearm, “stupid stupid twit!” 

She continues to hammer you with blows, closing her fists as she hits your shoulders and stomach. You shrink down, curling into yourself as you keep your head shielded. She huffs, tired from her assault, and twirls away. 

“I don’t want to see you unless you have a bottle in hand,” she snarls and kicks over the stool. “Go before I have you gutted.” 

You wine and stand straight, lip quivering. You turn and hold your left shoulder as it thrums. You step into the night air, aware that the soldiers could no doubt hear the queen’s fit. They say nothing and you don’t either. 

You continue through the train of bodies. You feel your cheek pulsing and your brow swelling. You keep your head down and as you reach the cart, you relieved to find it alone but for the two dozing horses. You climb up and turn towards the wooden wall, hiding against it as you hug the cushion. 

It isn’t so different from Debray, only that you don’t have Merinda to hold you, to share in your pain. You always preferred that it was you who faced the rather of the ladies. You only hope Lady Rezlyn isn’t issuing the same displeasure upon your companion. 

⚔️

The morning comes with the tweeting of birds and a distant rumble. You sit up and look towards the sky. There are no clouds to forewarn a storm. You stare into the horizon where the thunderous noise rolls over the plains. 

You see the figures on their approach. Men on horses. As soldiers rush to confront them, their alarm is eased by the wave of a familiar banner. It is the king and his party. 

Bryce grumbles as Daisy sniffs him and the coughs into his hand. He shakes his head as you lean out of the cart, watching the specks on the tapestry of green grass. You gasp as you feel him grip your wrist. 

“Eh, mouse, what’s happened to ya?” He demands as he pulls your attention back from the distance. 

You look at him and the tenderness in your cheek reminds you of the queen’s wrath. You wiggle free of his grasp and sit back against the side of the wagon. You shake your head. 

“I went to... the bushes to relieve myself, sir. I tripped.” 

He squints at you, his square jaw gritting. He stares daggers at you. You’re not a good liar but you can’t tell him the truth. 

“Tripped?” He echoes as his thick brows furrow. 

“Yes, sir, it was dark,” you say. “I’ll be alright.” 

“Mm, you look as if you were caught by a bear.” 

“Really, sir, I am well,” you put your head down. 

He growls under his breath and turns away. He fiddles around with his saddle bag before he returns to the cart. He reaches over the top, holding a folded cloth with an acrid smell roiling off of it. 

“Put it on ya face,” he demands. “It’ll soothe ya, make you a little less puffy.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“You don’t go trippin’ no more. If ya do, ya let me know,” he scowls. 

You nod, sinking into a tense silence. You both know it’s a lie but neither of you will admit it. You put the cloth to your cheek and exhale. It cools your skin though the smell burns your nose. 

⚔️

That night you don’t return to the queen’s tent. Bryce claims there’s no need for it. She needs her sleep, as do you. It’s another lie you won’t call out. 

Several days pass in the cart. Short nights followed by sweltering days. It’s as if there is no end to the road or the heat. 

You sit on your knees, looking ahead as Bryce chews sweet leaves and spits onto the ground. Daisy’s tail sweeps behind her as she keeps a steady trot. You watch the progress with impatience, each moment feeling more and more trapped in the cart. 

“...down in Debray...” you hear a voice drift back. 

“...don’t like traitors, suppose...” another returns and you search over the carts to try to place the speakers. 

“Careful, mouse,” Bryce warns, “you’ll fall under the wheels. 

You sit back and face him, holding onto the side of the cart, “sir, what happened?” 

“What do ya mean? We’ve been riding,” he sniffs. 

“No, days ago, when we stopped. Something... in Debray?” 

He grimaces and spits out the leaves completely. He shakes his head, clearing his throat. 

“Nothing a maid needs worry about,” he girds. 

“I know, sir, my apologies. I’m only curious...” you hang your head, “I... I was raised there, is all.” 

He hums and rocks with the motion of Chestnut’s steps, “skirmish up a ways. Party on their way to the castle. Certainly, you know your former master’s deceit has bought him little good will.” 

“A skirmish?” 

“Ah, so it was, but nothing very dire. The king returned in good spirits, that rat lord—the duke with him,” Bryce explains, “course, it only suits that the lord should see to the defence of his own castle.” He chortles, “shouldn’t tell ya, maid, so ya keeps your lips sealed, but the duke meant to hide in the queen’s tent.” He shakes his head and sighs, “in the Hinterlands, them sortsa lords aren’t lords for long.” 

“Mm,” you purse your lips thoughtfully, “but... but the duke, he helped end the war.” 

“By betraying his kingdom. We didn’t come to conquer; we came to unite. Turns out, there’s more fractures than those between winter and summer. Shoulda know by Yellow Waleran’s deeds.” 

“Yellow?” You wonder. 

“Mouse, it is a lot you needn’t worry for. All I can say is a king isn’t much of one if he don’t keep his word,” he sighs, “any lord or man lacks substance if he melts like ice.”  

You look down and watch Chestnut’s legs. You slant your lips. 

“King Geralt, did he have some agreement with Waleran then?” 

Bryce snorts, “too clever. Promises. Broken promises. Deadly things.” 

You nod and hold your chin, “and King Geralt, he is a good king?” 

“Do you not know by now?” He asks with a smirk, “he is a man who keeps his word. A man who fights for his people, not for gold and a name. No good winter lord would kneel to a man built on coin. Blood, that buys crowns. It buys loyalty.” 

You lower yourself onto your bottom and draw your knees up, “for his people?” 

“You heard him say it, you summer’s blood are one with us now. Once he has his heir, it will all be set in flesh. A prince to join the realm,” Bryce says, “let us hope he comes soon. The king’s done his part, he’s fought his battles, now it is up to your queen to claim her victory.” 

[resident-wof-expert]

Unsorted WOF thoughts part 160:

A list of reasons why The Dangerous Gift is probably my favorite book in the mainline series and definitely my favorite book in arc 3:

We finally get to check up on Pyrrhia and see the aftermath of arc 2.

The reveal that Tundra was really just a repressed weirdo, even by IceWing standards.

Glacier's death wasn't meaningless or for shock value.

Snowfall's PTSD isn't ignored.

Snowfall gets to be dramatic as hell in ways that are as hilarious as they are sad.

Snowfall and Lynx spend literally like 80% of the book by each others' sides.

The reveal that Winter wasn't actually banished by Snowfall, and Snowfall subsequently calling him a drama queen (she's one to talk.).

The reveal that Crystal wasn't plotting anything, and was literally just hanging out in Sanctuary. (IceWing royalty just LOVES to assume the worst in their family.)

More Qinter.

It introduces Wren.

Snowfall becomes the most informed character in the series, making her pov worth reading through.

We finally get an explanation and justification for the disappearance of animus magic in a way that makes sense.

Mink.

"It was inside you all along." Played completely straight finally. I'm tired of novels that hate tropes.

The book ends with Snowfall literally smashing racism and classism to pieces with her fists.

[six-of-ravens]

actually no, this solves a plot point I broke when I decided to force my MCs to drag a temperamental and extremely ill vampire lord around.

my main problem with North is that I already have too much Quest, aka it takes my characters too long to get from one place to another with too many sidequests. however, my brain just hit me up with "hey....what about.....secret tunnels?" and who am I to say no?

[chaotic-tired-fox]

Okay so my last post blew up so here’s more obscure random Resident Evil facts for y’all!

Part one: here

Part three: here

☠️The white dog you save in Resident Evil 4 is a reference to Hewie the dog in Capcom’s other game Haunting Ground which was released at around the same time the original Resident Evil 4 was. The main character Fiona also shares resemblance to Ashley.

☠️ Chris and Claire’s parents both died in a tragic car crash said to be so bad they could only be identified by their dental records

☠️ Jill’s infection (and later cure) of the T-Virus significantly slowed down her ageing

☠️ Chris is the only main character without a clear romantic interest (Leon with Ada, Claire with Leon and Jill with Carlos)

(Edit: A few people have said Claire and Steve but Steve was only 17 at the time of his death so no I don’t care how much chemistry they might’ve had, he was a minor and Claire was 19)

☠️ In the original RE2 Jill had a picture of a man on her desk, in the remake it is changed to a dog instead.

☠️ Barry Burton is one of the only characters in the series to actually retire, moving up to Canada with his family. He and Claire still stay in contact.

☠️ Leon’s signature handgun is actually a modified Samurai Edge he named ‘Silver Ghost’ made by Joseph Kendo the brother of Robert Kendo you meet in RE2 and RE3. Originally the gun was created for Barry Burton but given to Leon instead.

☠️ One of Joseph Kendo’s books on firearms can be found in Ethan’s house at the beginning of Village.

☠️ Capcom’s other zombie series Dead Rising actually has a few references to Resident Evil in them though my favourite is a restaurant called Jill’s Sandwiches

☠️ Luis Sera was apart of Umbrella’s sixth laboratory in Europe which oversaw the creation of Nemesis.

☠️ A detail not many know about Hunk is that he possesses two hidden blades mounted to his wrists almost exactly like the ones seen in Assassins Creed

☠️ Jessica and Raymond are two villains from Revelations that are not only still alive but in possession of a T-Abyss sample and haven’t been seen in the timeline since 2005 what happened to them and the sample is a complete mystery.

☠️ Another storyline that hasn’t been explained yet is Natalia from Revelations 2 and if she may or may not be possessed by the consciousness of Alex Wesker

☠️ It’s implied in the Shadow of Rose DLC that Mia Winters lost custody of Rose sometime in her teenage years

☠️ Chris can canonically pull off front flips whereas Leon can backflip

☠️ Lobo, Tundra and Night Howl of the Hound Wolf Squad actually have little smiley face stickers on the back of their helmets whereas Canine and Umber Eyes do not.

☠️ In every main series game he’s been in (RE2,RE4,RE6) Leon has had to crawl through a sewer

☠️ All of the cgi movies as well as Infinite Darkness are considered completely canon to the story.

☠️ Upon the release of Operation Raccoon City, players could participate in an online ARG which gave away exclusive files on the characters including a psychological evaluation of Hunk which is the most information we’ve ever gotten on his character. The link to it can be found: Here

☠️ Wesker’s British accent was the result of each of his voice actors attempting to mimic the last. This was corrected in the remake of Resident Evil 4 (sadly)

☠️ You can interact with the play park in RE6 with Chris, Piers and Ada and each of them go down the slide differently

☠️ The HWS member that tackles Ethan at the reservoir is Canine and the one standing next to Chris is Night Howl.

☠️ Night Howl is also the author of the laptop reports you find in the Church and the secret underground area where the Mutamycete is in the village.

☠️ Canine is the youngest member of the HWS and the oldest is Umber Eyes

☠️ Lobo from the HWS shares striking similarities to Hunk (Read my full theory on it Here)

☠️ The Duke from Village and The Merchant from RE4 actually know each other and The Duke describes them as ‘old friends’

☠️ Sergei Vladimir, leader of the UCBS is the tallest human character in the franchise standing at 6’7.5”

☠️ Thanks to the Resident Evil 4 remake, Leon can now both speak and read Spanish

☠️ In the Heavenly Island comic, the man Chris sends to assist Claire is Parker Luciani from Revelations

☠️ In RE8 the Village is heavily isolated from the outside world thanks to Miranda and thus has remained primitive but Heisenberg had his own arrangements with the Duke for regular newspapers and cigars from the outside.

☠️ Wesker actually met Claire once while he was still leading STARS. He described her as a ‘lovely girl.’

☠️ That being said Claire swears more than any other main character (Chris, Leon, Jill)

☠️ Chris and Claire have matching leather jackets that both say ‘Made In Heaven’ on the back which is a reference to Queen (the band)

☠️ Although it doesn’t appear in the remake, Barry’s ‘Jill sandwich’ line is considered canon and referenced by his daughter Moira in Revelations 2

☠️ Revelations for the 3DS was so infamous for having its text misspelled on the side of the case Capcom had to issue replacement sleeves for all the buyers who had one.

☠️ Heisenberg calling Chris a ‘Boulder punching asshole’ means his feats in RE5 either made the newspaper or someone told him about it personally (one of the hounds maybe?)

☠️ Expanding upon an earlier fact of mine, Chris knows 7 fighting styles which are: Airforce Combatives, Karate, Boxing, Judo, Wrestling, Capoeira and Kali

☠️ Jill also knows 7 fighting styles which are: Modern Army Combatives, Taekwondo, Ju-Jitsu, Gymnastics, Tricking, Lucha Libre and Kali

☠️ Leon knows 6 fighting styles: Taekwondo, Ju-Jitsu, Wrestling, Kali, Krav Maga and Systema

☠️ The reason why there’s no children in the village in Resident Evil 4 is because Saddler’s blood ritual killed them all before the events of the game (that and the developers agreed child enemies would be far too disturbing)

☠️ The developer of the original RE4 suggests that the best snacks to have while playing the game is Diet Coke and lightly salted potato chips (eaten with chopsticks to avoid greasy controller hands)

☠️ Neither Hunk nor anyone in the USS wear Umbrella logo patches (as much as cosplayers tell you otherwise lol)

☠️ In the RE4 remake, Ashley refers to herself as a ‘master of unlocking’ which is a reference to Jill’s title given to her by Barry in the first game

☠️ Chris and Leon were designed to be complete opposites of each other and you can still see that today even with subtle details (Chris punches, Leon kicks. Chris smokes, Leon doesn’t. Leon is flirtatious, Chris is indifferent)

☠️ Wesker’s red eyes glow brighter any time he experiences strong emotions which is why they sometimes shine through his glasses

☠️ Chris’s zippo lighter was actually a gift from Claire given to him when he joined STARS

☠️ Chris can’t read piano sheet music but he can read guitar

☠️ Jill can play the piano

☠️ The story behind the basement music used in the directors cut of the original Resident Evil is so infamous and has a pretty wild story behind it. The music itself is horrendously bad and said to have been composed by a deaf composer but spoiler alert that composer wasn’t deaf at all and instead was fooling the world. The story is insane and I highly recommend checking out this video on it for the full story here

☠️ Beltway from the USS Wolfpack has a metal prosthetic leg

☠️ Beltway also swears more than any other character in Operation Raccoon City

☠️ The original RE4 has more releases than any other Resident Evil game because of its success

☠️ The original RE4 was also planned to be a lot more survival horror based like it’s predecessors but the remake of the original RE didn’t sell as well as intended so the game was reworked to be more action based instead.

☠️ Crimson head zombies were also completely unique to the remake of Resident Evil and also make an appearance in Operation Raccoon City

☠️ Leon’s relationship with Helena is unique in the fact that neither of them are interested in each other and Leon instead views her as a protege because she reminds him of his younger self.

☠️ You cannot shoot the merchant in the RE4 Remake

☠️ During his time working at the Spencer Mansion, Wesker used to take long hikes around the Arklay Mountains

☠️ Mr X isn’t the only Tyrant of his type in fact multiple of him were released around Raccoon City and it’s also implied two separate Mr X’s are encountered during the story of the RE2 remake

☠️ Out of everything, crows are the most effective carriers and spreaders of the T-Virus

☠️ Hunk’s name is actually an acronym that stands for Human Unit Never Killed

☠️ Leon S Kennedy is the only playable character with a middle name, that being Scott (in fact he might be the only character in the franchise with one but don’t quote me on that)

☠️ Originally Leon’s hair was depicted as brown but was later changed to blond which it had stayed as until Vendetta made it brown again. His canon hair colour is usually agreed to be blond however.

☠️ Same goes for Chris’s eye colour which was originally blue (like Claire’s) until they changed it to brown and back to blue again in Village.

☠️ Birkin discovered the Golgotha Virus by accident while experimenting with Lisa Trevor. In the REmake you can see the G Virus tentacles on her back.

☠️ The brand of clothing and gear the Hound Wolf Squad use is a real brand you can buy exact replicas from for Airsoft called Volk Tactical Gear. There logo is printed on HWS weapons in game.

☠️ Ghosts were technically made canon in the Resident Evil universe thanks to 7 and 8 but seem to only relate to the Mold and Mutamycete (You see a ghost girl in 7’s demo/prequel and in 8 Shadow of Rose goes in depth with it)

[marzcody]

All of my alterhuman kinstypes cus I'm bored :P

I will be talking. a lot. this is your warning that I will be talking.

Black wolf!!

This is by far the easiest one I have to understand (for me atleast) so it's going first. Often get more shifts about it during the winter because all the snow and stuff reminds me of the tundra!! I had a pack of like 3-4 other wolves and we lived along the border between a forest and like a planes in the tundra or something like a tundra.

Me fr!!

Black cat (fictionkin?????)

this is where things get complicated as always...I put fictionkin w/ a bunch of question marks because I'm a black cat specifically from the book series Warrior cats but I'm not like a specific character from the book, I'm my own cat but like not an oc so????? idk I'm just going w/ fictionkin for now cus it makes the most sense to me lol. anyway I spent most of my time in Riverclan but I spent a lot of time in the hay/wheat fields at the barn had hunting mice. My name was Mountainsong (clan name) or Night-bird (rogue name). I was like 20 moons? I was definitely a young warrior but idk exactly how old. I have a lot of memories attached to this kintypes like having to run across the Thunderpath or sneaking out of camp to go hunt mice at the barn. I still sometimes try to flick my tail as communication forgetting I don't have one anymore :/. Anyway if you have any idea if fictionkin is the right term or if there's some other one lmk (note: I also might have a theriotype of a cat that's different than this?? idek anymore just know that I'm a cat lol)

me in RC territory if you even care

Angelkin? Dietykin? Something along those lines

and even more complicated we go. idk a good label for this one either but I feel like those two are pretty good descriptors. I'm not divine anymore but I once was. I'm not a christian angel or even an angel from any particular religion. All I know is that I came from the stars with the purpose to bring light and joy to humanity and to also observe it (I've made many observations!!) This sounds kinda silly but my form was best described as the Angelic Warden from Creatures of Sonaria but not exactly. I stood on two legs that came down to a fine point, and had two massive wings on my back that were very heavy with two more little wings inside of those ones, a long with two on either side of my head. (man I miss those wings). I think I may have been on Earth while still divine? I know for a fact I was watching from above the clouds once but idk not gonna get into that yet lol.

Where I came from. also the best representation of my "non-physical" form.

THE MOON (conceptkin)

Kinda goes with the whole originating from the stars and space but uhm. anyway I AM the concept the like the aura around the moon. The deep night only illuminated by the full moon. that illumination creating a mysterious and beautiful light casting down the the ground through the leaves of trees? ME!!!! The haunting light a bright orange harvest moon immits?? ME!!!!! The weird pseudo-darkness the moon makes during a solar eclipse? MEEE!!! The moon shining brightly through the clouds giving light to the animal below and beauty for human to admire? MEM MEMEMEM!!!!!

MEEEEE!!!! ME ME ME!!!!

ANYWAY thanks for reading!!!! if you have any kintypes you wanna share PLEASE do I LOVE hearing about them /gen!!!!

[the-sea-and-the-storm]

The Sea and the Storm is now open for applications!

The sun shines on Bluffclan again. The grueling moons of winter are over, ushered away by a sun whose light now never leaves the sky. The snow that has clung onto the tundra has finally begun to melt away, clearing the path for Bluffclan's journey to their summer camp. In clan mythology, springs heralds growth and new beginnings. Flowers bloom, prey emerges. Prey and predator alike. The cats of the clan are not the only inhabitants of the tundra, nor are they the only ones who see the sun's light as a symbol of growth. The wolves and bears have young to feed, and the clan is direct competition. Bluffclan has been given two choices -- get out of the way, or find themselves caught between a predator's jaws. Hungry and afraid, the clan turns to nonexistent authority. Lynxstar does what she can to keep the clan together, but even best laid plans often go awry. Her leadership is in its infancy still; many of Bluffclan's senior members cannot reconcile with the fact their future lies in her paws now. The sun shines on Bluffclan again. Does it beckon a new dawn, or is it the last sunrise the cats of the tundra will ever bear witness to?

Faced with an empty council and predators snapping at their heels, Bluffclan survives on instinct alone. Many have decided to flee, families split as some leave for safer lands. Others still choose to fight, lashing out at the world with fury that cannot be taken from them. Most remain frozen and panicked, paralyzed with fear by the cruel hand of nature.

Their story is in your hands now. Tread with caution -- danger lurks around every corner, and the wrong pawstep could spell disaster.

Applications will be open from Friday, April 19th until Friday, May 10th at 11:59pm EST. You must be at least 18 years old and have a Discord account to apply.

Apply here!

View our website here!

See our rules here!

Review the FAQ here!

Check out our character generator!

[seenoversundown]

Succulent

Sam x Fem OC

Warnings: 18+ Smut (Minors DNI) Praise Kink, Edging, mentions of Choking (very mild) Dom Sam, Oral (F & M receiving) Fingering, Penetrative sex, Cockwarming, Degradation in the form of condescension, Spanking (if you squint) , and finally some fluff.

Word Count: 6.3k

Author's Note: Just a little treat for you hehe 🤭 Enjoy!

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Succulent (adjective) (of food) tender, juicy, and tasty

Birdie POV

“I’m so excited.” I’m giddy with anticipation in the front seat of Sam’s new truck, a Toyota Tundra he named ‘Mr. Big’ after the character in Zootopia. He tried to stick it out as long as he could with Edith, poor guy, but she gave up all on her own. Though I have to say, I much preferred Edith over Mr. Big. I think I just get nostalgic for all the adventures we took with her. 

The three hour journey has been a lengthy one, but with the long winding road coming into view, I know we're close. I’ve never been to Stowe, Vermont before but I know it's a popular vacation spot. Vermont lends a same outdoorsy feel as home while not being too far away, the perfect getaway spot. Sam reaches a hand across the console and takes mine in his, my heart squeezing along with the pressure of his fingers. I can’t help but stare at him. We’ve made it so far over the last, almost two years. Learning so much from each other, testing each other, pushing each other. God, we’re so ingrained in the very make-up of each other at this point I forget we haven’t even celebrated our second anniversary yet.

“I think this is it.”

We pull into a long driveway and up to a gorgeous natural wood cabin with a two-car garage. There are windows on either side of the chimney who’s brick is exposed to the outside, oh there’s a fireplace, and a porch that runs the length of the house. Fresh snow adorns the large yard, and I just know that the view from the inside is going to be so beautiful in the morning. 

“Oh, Sammy. This is incredible!” I exclaim. I scoot to the edge of my seat, trying to get a better view. 

“Wait til you see the inside, there’s 3 bedrooms and a sauna,” shooting me a wink before putting the truck in park. 

“A sauna, huh?” I lean an elbow on the center console and pull him in for a slow kiss by the front of his jacket. “I’m definitely getting some use out of that.” I press another quick kiss to his lips before I unbuckle my seatbelt. Sam slides out of the truck and grabs our bags from the back seat, tossing both backpacks, one on top of each other, over his shoulder. I exit the truck and meet him around the front; he pulls me close to his chest, both of us trying to preserve a bit of warmth now that the biting winter air has surrounded us. 

“It’s ours for the whole week,” he whispers into my hair, pressing his lips to my temple. “Just the two of us.”

“Let’s go, let’s go!” I head toward the entryway pulling him by the arm. 

Once the door is closed, we take a left through the tiny hallway, the same natural wood as the outside covering the walls. Sam sets down our bags, sticking his head in each door, trying to get a feel for the place. 

“These are the spares and the main floor bathroom. The Master bed is upstairs and has a loft area I think.” He takes my hand again, his hand warm around my chilly one. I’m forever thankful that he’s a very hot-blooded individual. “Yeah, it’s through here.”

We walk past a set of stairs on the left and the kitchen on the right. I can feel the enthusiasm radiating off of him like a solar flare as he tries to scope out each corner before I get a chance to catch up to him. 

“Look at the view, Birdie!” he beams, eyes bright and arms wide open. “There’s a breakfast bar for our mornings and the fireplace to keep us toasty, though I’m not sure we’ll need help in that department.” He points around the living room. I keep a comment about the terrifying bear skin located above said fireplace to myself. 

“I definitely don’t, I have you to keep me warm.” I meet him in the middle of the floor and slide my arms around his middle, locking my hands behind his back. He rubs at my shoulders. “That’s right,” he says, placing an innocent kiss to my nose. “But we’re still going to use it.” We pull apart from each other so he can continue the tour despite both of us never having been here before. 

“I would never rob you of such a joy then. Proceed, kind sir.” I tease in a slight British accent, making a small bow. When we reach the top of the stairs we come to the small loft area, complete with a lovely day bed by a window that the sun peaks through. We step forward through the set of doors, passing the bathroom, and into the Master bedroom. 

“This.. is the master bedroom. But the best part,” he doubles back to the bathroom, opening the door wide and stepping inside to make room for me to follow.

 “The sauna is in our bathroom.” My eyes light up. He hums out an encouragement, tugging me back into his body by my wrist. I hit him with a light thud. 

“I can’t wait to fuck you in there.” He growls lowly into my ear. My breath hitches in my throat, and immediately, my cheeks start to flush. His words hit me entirely to my core, and I resist the urge to press my legs together for relief. I wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction of knowing he's gotten to me this early in the trip, not when we have a whole week ahead of us. 

“So what’s on the itinerary for tonight then?” I inquire, head tilted up so I can stare into his chestnut eyes. 

“I’m so glad you asked my little bird.” He takes my hand in his, once again leading me toward the living room. “Once I grab the cooler from Mr. Big, I’ll pour you a glass of wine, and you can get relaxed, while I cook dinner. We can set up by the fire and eat on the floor like all romantic movies do in log cabins in the woods.” He brushes the hair out of his face and chuckles a bit. “I even packed that nice fuzzy blanket you love so much. It’ll be like our own romantic indoor picnic,” he continues.

“Wow, Sammy. You thought of everything, didn't you.” A swell of pride thrums through my chest. 

Something I’ve learned over my time with Sam is that he always means well, even if his execution isn’t the best. And trust me, there have been some poor executions. Each mishap more endearing than the last, but this time, it really seems like he’s gotten the hang of the romance thing. 

“Gunna be honest with you. I asked every single one of my brothers for advice and did a lot of studying.” he huffs out a slightly uncomfortable laugh and scratches at the back of his neck. 

“Studying? What does studying mean?” I giggle. 

“Well, your job has sent you on a couple trips this last month. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Daniel has his hands full with the girls, Josh and Jake are always busy. Bar stuff or whatever.” He shifts awkwardly between his feet. “I just.. watched a lot of romcoms and romance movies. Ya know, the kind you always like to watch.” he does a little double snap clap with his hands. 

I bark out a loud laugh and clutch my tummy. Oh, I love him. 

“Hey!” he says a bit defensively.

“I’m not laughing AT you, Babe. I promise. That’s just the cutest fucking thing you’ve ever said to me. C’mere,” I hold my arms out for him to fit between. “Thank you. This week is going to be perfect no matter what. But the effort you’re making means the most to me, you know that.” I hug him tightly, hoping to convey just how appreciative I am. 

No one has ever loved me the way he has. His love is messy and goofy. His love is filled with laughter and childlike wonder.  Adventure and weekend trips. Nights snuggled on the couch and days when we don’t leave bed. Kisses peppered on cheeks and hips gripped mean. Arguments that end wrapped around each other because despite falling madly in love, we still try to get under each other's skin for fun. He has my entire heart, and I can’t bear the thought of my life being any other way. 

“Now go get that cooler,” I slap his butt lightly. “I’m ready for some wine.”

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As I sip my wine and warm my toes by the fire, I look over my shoulder at Sam who’s slaving away in the kitchen. 

“Do I get a hint?” I call over to him. He looks so cute, a dish rag slung over his shoulder, face knit in concentration. The cream cable-knit sweater he dons was a personal request of mine. He agreed on the pretense that I would wear the red sweater he loves so much. At least we’re on theme for the holiday. 

“No,” he says plainly, clearly focused. 

“Oh, that’s no fun.” I turn and kneel backward on the couch, giving him my best pout, trying to distract him. His eyes dart to me before falling back to his work, he smiles wide. 

“You’re cheating. You know I can’t resist that face.” He steals another glance at me. 

“I’m doing no such thing.” I protest. “I am simply inquiring about what my boyfriend is making me to eat.” I hop off the couch, setting my glass on the coffee table. I meet him in the kitchen, sneaking my arms around his waist and firmly planting my cheek against his back. He moves a little slower with me clinging to him but he doesn’t shoo me away, just lightly pats my wrist with one of his hands and continues to work. I take in a deep breath, inhaling the aromas from the meal. 

“It smells good, babe.” I hop onto the free bit of counter beside him. He puts the lid back on the pan and turns his attention to me. 

“It needs to simmer for a few minutes.” He winks at me, delicately fitting between my legs, his hands sliding up the fabric of my leggings before settling on my hips. I giggle, and he scoots me to the edge, bringing me closer to his body. I place my hands on the nape of his neck, sliding my fingers through the hair he’s messily tucked into a bun. I tug gently, and his mouth opens, and eyes close. Why does he have to be so pretty? It's moments when he looks like this that I wish I could take photos with my mind. What I wouldn’t give to take that photo out on a rainy day…

I lean in and close the gap between us, our lips meeting in a sweet kiss. Not urgent or needy. The kind of kiss where you simply tell each other how full your heart is. 

He hums against my mouth. “Mm, if you distract me, I’ll burn the food.”

I pepper kisses along his cheek and jaw, and he reaches over to tend to the pan. “Can you please gimme a hint?”

“And ruin the surprise?” His arm moves, stirring whatever he’s making with a wooden spoon. As easy as it would be for me to just look over, I'm too distracted by nibbling at his ear to bother trying to sneak a peek. 

“Come on, baby,” I whisper seductively in his ear. I plant a kiss on any expanse of skin I reach, repeating the word please over and over again until… He gives in. I feel his throat swallow beneath my touch.

“Remember the first time we went out together?” He gently clears his throat.

“On our first date? Yeah, you took–”

“No, the first time we ate together at a restaurant. Where we went.” he cuts me off. I can see the amusement settle on his face as he sees me try to look through the filing cabinet in my brain. 

Oh. 

“You took me to the cheese place.” I tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, the cheese place.” He laughs. “You ordered the mushroom risotto, and you loved it. I figured since we haven’t actually been back..” he trails off.

I leave him to finish cooking, suddenly very excited for our meal now that I know what we’re having. Instead, I rearrange the living room to make a spot for us to eat. I move the coffee table off to the side, freeing up the space in front of the fireplace. Digging through the other bag Sam packed for us, and finding my favorite cream colored fuzzy throw blanket. Big enough for all nearly six feet of him and myself to fit under when we cuddle on the couch. I grab the coasters for our drinks, setting them on the hearth, and plop a couple pillows for us to sit on. Mostly for me because I apparently have a ‘bony ass,’ according to him. By the time that I’ve got everything settled Sam is walking through the living room with two bowls, one in each hand. He sets them on the hearth, grabbing my glass and running off to the kitchen for a refill. 

“Here you go, Birdie,” he says, handing me my glass and sitting down in front of me.

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“God, that was so good.” I rub at my tummy. He smiles at me over the top of his glass as he sips his wine. “This has been a really good start to our mini vacation.” A much needed vacation if I’m being honest. I feel like I’ve hardly spent any time with him this month. He reaches out, placing his palm on my cheek. Stroking his thumb along my cheekbone. 

“I’m glad you’re happy, baby.” He says sweetly. And I am. So fucking happy I didn’t think it was possible. I adjust on my pillow, kicking my legs out in front of me and rubbing my feet against his legs. His hand finds my ankle rubbing smooth circles on the tiny patch of skin he finds. 

“I hope you saved room for dessert.” He says, his fingers delicately sliding up my leg. 

“There’s dessert? Why didn’t you tell me that before.” I set my glass down on the hearth and scoot closer to him. His fingertips slide up the inside of my thigh. 

“Of course, there’s dessert. You think I’d make you a lovely dinner and not have dessert too?” He teases, his fingers dangerously close to my core. I smile in satisfaction, his hands feeling too good as they dance over me. He pulls me in for a short kiss. “I really think you’re gonna love what I have planned.”

“Is that so?” 

“Mhmm.” His fingers find the hem of my sweater, and he pulls it over my head. Revealing the dusty pink floral lace bra I’m wearing. He stares at me for a moment. Taking me in. 

“Lie back, babygirl,” he instructs, using a nickname he’s reserved only for intimacy. I do as I’m told, as all good girls do, and connect with the plush blanket laid beneath us. I can still feel the warmth of the fire heating my left side, though after time spent for dinner, it has dimmed a bit. Like our own personal, romantic light setting. I stretch my arms out above my head and close my eyes, waiting. He grabs the waistband of my leggings, tugging them down my legs and tossing it to the side. 

“God, you look good enough to eat.” He spreads my legs and sits on his knees between mine. “But you know that, don’t you?” I can feel his eyes of admiration on me. Like an invisible touch skimming down my body over every curve and divot. I anticipate his touch, resisting the urge to open my eyes. I try to guess where his hands will land when he does finally decide to reach out and touch me. Sam loves the game, though, the cat and mouse before the main act. And the cocky tone of his voice gets me going every time. 

“Words, Baby.” He demands. The rush of pressure I feel between my legs at that moment is my favorite part of being with Sam. My heart pounds in my ribcage.

“Yes.” I squeak out. “I wanted to look good for you.” Every second he delays touching me my breath quickens. The sound of his pants against the blanket causes my stomach to flip. The cool air coming with whatever movement he’s making sends a chill down my spine, and goosebumps to appear on my skin. I hear the soft thud of what I hope is his sweater. Please be shirtless, please be shirtless. Even after all this time, the sight of him still makes me salivate.

A delicate hand caresses my thigh, and I twitch slightly at the unexpected touch. 

“You did such a good job for me.” His sweet praise is music to my ears as his fingers glide toward my hip. “Look at you, so beautiful and laid out for me. Ready for me to take when I want.” He squeezes gently when he reaches his destination, and the cocky laugh that follows sends a flood of arousal to my core. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and listen to me tonight?” I smile ear to ear and nod emphatically. 

“Good.” He continues. He catches the hem of my panties with his pointer finger and follows along the edge of the blush-pink colored lace. When he reaches where I most desire him, he puts pressure along my pussy with the back of his finger and then snaps the fabric. The sharp sting is welcomed, but the absence of his touch makes me whine audibly. 

He places each hand on the floor next to my shoulders, hovering over me. As he runs his nose up the length of my neck, he opens his mouth to breathe hot air in its wake.  “So needy already?” He asks when he reaches my ear. “But I’ve barely touched you.”

“Please,” I beg. Knowing it’s what he wants to hear, but not holding out hope for my favor. 

“Please, what, baby?” The husky tone of his voice sends a chill down my spine. He reaches his tongue out and flicks at my earlobe.

“Fuck me. Please.” My face scrunches in another desperate whine.

He tuts quietly, “I’m only getting started, baby.” 

I know as soon as the words leave his lips that I’m in for a long night. A slow form of torture that I’ll be thankful for come the morning.

He pushes himself up and sits back on his heels. He taps my hip, signaling me to raise them, and he hooks his fingers under the lace of my underwear, sliding it down the length of my legs, discarding the material next to his shirt. Placing both hands on each respective knee, he spreads me wide, and his mouth drops open at the sight of me. My eyes fall to his plush, rosy lips.

“Mmm,” he hums, running his tongue along his top lip. “Good enough to eat, indeed.”

Sam settles on his stomach, his left arm hooking around my leg. I hum at the heated contact of his palm, splayed across my lower abdomen. I can feel the cool air hit my dripping pussy as he takes slow breaths, plotting my demise. He lets out another arrogant laugh, no doubt satisfied at how I glisten by the firelight. 

He rests his head against my thigh, now purposeful with the air he blows on me. I shudder a little, letting out a tiny gasp of air. The throbbing between my legs is so intense I can practically feel it in my throat. I swallow thickly. His free hand dances up the inside of the thigh he’s not resting against, his mouth open with a slight smile. Oh the fun he’s having, like I’m his own personal plaything. I would do anything to make him happy if it meant I experience this continued arousal. He tickles back and forth over the crease of my groin. So close and yet just far enough away from where I want him. No, where I need him. I bite my lip to try and center myself. 

He finally makes contact with me, dragging his middle finger tantalizingly slow down the center of my pussy. My teeth sink into my lip so hard I nearly draw blood when the pressure reaches my clit; he continues until he meets where my wetness is pooling for him. He takes a moment to thoroughly coat the tip of his finger before he pops it into his mouth, savoring the taste of me.

“You’re so wet for me, sweetheart. And you taste so fucking good. How did that happen?” He teases, but I don’t laugh. He reaches down, slowly inserting his first two fingers, but he doesn’t move them. 

His teasing is so torturous I cry out. The thrum of my heart beats around his fingers, and I clench, trying to coax him into movement. I should know better.

“I know, baby girl, I know. You’re going to listen to me, though, and you’ll get what you want.” He places a gentle kiss on my thigh, “I’ll give you everything you want.”

I shake my head, feeling around for the blanket to bunch in my palms, giving my hands something to do. 

“I’ve been thinking about dessert since we left, and I already know how sweet it is.” Sam continues his kisses, descending to my pussy. “I’m hungry, I think it’s time for a treat. I want you to relax for me, babygirl.” Everything his mouth is doing effectively distracts me from the fingers remaining stilled inside me. 

He places a gentle kiss to the top of my slit and begins his assault. Finally, he licks up the center of me, flicking my clit with just the tip of his tongue. I moan at the contact, all that build-up finally paying off. I squeeze around his fingers, attempting to speed up the race to the finish line..

And he stops. 

I whine at the loss of contact.

There’s always a game. 

I look down at his wicked grin. “I told you to relax, babygirl.” His playful tone is as arrogant as ever. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His brow furrows with his question, and his lips shine with the evidence of me. 

I nod slowly. 

“Good girls listen.” One eyebrow cocks toward his hairline. “Let’s try again.” 

Sam’s mouth is on me again, and I try to concentrate on breathing instead of the steady attack of his tongue against my clit. In fast, short licks, he slowly drives me to insanity. The heat of pleasure radiates over my body, a hot pulse running through me in waves. I will myself to calm down every time I start to tighten my walls, attempting to breathe and focus on something else, anything else. But the force of his tongue lapping at me is overriding my brain, and I can’t help myself. I clench hard in search of release, pulling the blanket clutched in my hands toward my chest for leverage in my chase. 

He stops once more. 

I groan out angrily and lay myself flat, resuming my original position.

“So needy and so pathetic. You can’t even handle it, can you?” 

When I don’t respond, he strokes his fingers inside me a few times, suddenly remembering their place inside me. I jolt up to my elbows, tightening my fists around the blanket I still clutch. The shock of a moment of pleasure settling in my stomach before dissipating. 

“You know I love to hear your pretty little voice, baby. Come on, use your words for me.”

I swallow before I beg for any amount of relief. “Please, Sammy. Please.” 

He slides his left hand up my stomach, a gentle push signaling me to lie back.

“When you learn to relax, you’ll be rewarded. The only thing standing in the way of that right now is you.”

This time, the forefinger and thumb come down and spread my lips open, exposing me to him fully.

“Come on, baby, I know you can do it.” He coaxes gently. He’s careful not to make contact with any other part of me, so the only thing I can feel is the tip of his tongue on my increasingly sensitive nub. Little beads of sweat start to collect around the nape of my neck from the struggle of self-control. The pleasure is so intense I fear I won’t be able to think straight for a week when I finally reach my release. My pussy starts to flutter gently around his fingers again; every time I twitch, I relax the muscles as best I can. 

“That’s it, baby.” He comes up for air long enough to utter his praise, and he’s descending again. Somehow the momentary break increases the tension slowly building in me. 

I tighten once more at his words and relax just as fast. I bite out quickly, “Don’t stop Sammy, please. I can do it.. I can do it.” my voice trails off. I work evening breath enough to let my orgasm ascend on its own without the encouragement of actions. 

He pulls back the hood of my clit with his thumb, and that’s the moment I begin to unravel completely. I yell out as I fight against my body's own natural instincts and the pleasure of it all; he continues the onslaught against my bundle of nerves, using the arm hooked around my leg to keep me in place. I writhe underneath his grasp as the tension finally snaps, my body going numb as my orgasm finally washes over every bit of me. My head clouds, and my body feels like it's floating. I immediately contract, my hands finding purchase in his hair, pulling tightly as the stimulation becomes too much. He moans against my pussy, causing me to jerk again. My voice echoes through the large living room. I reach my left hand out, meeting the brick of the hearth, trying to steady myself. He slows his movements, easing me out but still causing small ripples of pleasure with every affectionate lick and kiss of my pussy. I brush the tendrils sticking to my forehead out of my face and breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Good girls who listen get rewarded.” He says smugly, licking at his lips covered in my orgasm. He looks so sexy, god. I lunge at him, tackling him to his back. Landing in a hard thud against the soft blanket, I kiss him, needy and desperate. A surge of energy running through me from the adrenaline, followed by a wave of arousal as I taste myself on his lips. 

“You sound so sexy when you cum.” He says between my efforts to lap up every last remaining bit of myself still lingering on his mouth. “I’d put that on a loop for hours if I could.”

I cry out, “Oh god.” I start a path of kisses from his neck down his chest as he continues.

“Yeah? You like the idea of me listening to you cum over.. And over again? A little audio stored in my phone for me to listen to while I’m out?” 

I nod furiously against his soft stomach, the tiniest bit salty from the sweat we’ve worked up. I run my hand down over the front of his black sweats, feeling his length beneath my fingers.

“While I’m buying groceries?” I nod again; his fingers tangle themselves in my hair. 

“On my drive to work?” I nod once more, whining at his words. The sound of relief from his lips was enough to send my head spinning. He tugs at my roots just enough to hurt but still feel amazing. I work my way to the waistband of his joggers; I tug gently, exposing his hard length.

“No boxers?” I question teasingly. “Scandalous.” I laugh and press one last kiss to his stomach, taking a hold of him in my delicate hand. 

“Mmm.” He tilts his head back as my fingers run over him. “Your turn for dessert, baby. Open.” He demands, and I obey. I open wide and stick my tongue out, waiting for him. He takes full advantage of that by pulling the hair clutched in his hand and guiding me to his cock. I wrap my lips around him; the sound of his pleasure is music to my ears. I move in quick, even motions up and down his shaft, my hand making up for the part of him I can’t swallow. Paying attention to every upstroke, I flick my tongue around the head. One of his hands makes its way to my cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. 

“Just like that, fuck.” He moans, gripping my hair tighter and tighter, spurring me on. I bob my head faster as encouragement falls freely from his lips. My arousal pooling and dripping down my leg with every sound spilling from his mouth. God, the mouth on him. 

“You’re doing so good for me.” His hips start to jut, matching the movements of my mouth. Hands locked in my hair, he pulls my face to his base, pausing for a moment.

“Fuck.” he cries out and releases his grip. I come up for air, a trail of spit still linking us together as I catch my breath. My lungs working overdrive to make up for the loss of oxygen.

“I could fuck that mouth forever.” He says, and I let out a desperate whine.

“So do it.” 

I clamor my way back to his cock, desperately needing to taste him on my tongue again. I flatten my tongue and lick from base to tip and then wrap my lips around him. I lock eyes with him as I focus on the head, knowing how sensitive he is there. 

Sam’s nostrils flare, and he grunts out. The switch flipping in him that I needed. He’s always in control, but every once in a while, his feral side comes out. The uninhibited Sam that fucks me hard and rough, and god, if I don’t fucking need him right now. 

He sits up on his knees, kneeling before me. Yanking his sweatpants further down to his thighs, and grabs me, one hand planted on either side of my face, and bites out, “Open.” 

His cock slides into my mouth, his full length against my tongue, and he repeatedly meets the back of my throat. He shows me no mercy. His hands and hips taking control and working overdrive so I just sit there and take it. I gladly take everything that he gives me. Over and over again, my lips meet his pubic bone as he fucks my mouth. I reach for leverage, grabbing a hold of where his pants sit around his thighs. The repetition of ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips, calling my attention back to his face. His eyes bore into mine, and he pulls me off his dick. He lets out a yell of frustration; I know he’s holding back. Trying not to cum down my throat because the only place he cums is inside of me. ‘You’re mine, Birdie,’ he always tells me. 

“Hands.” He points to the hearth, and I hustle on my knees to place my palms on the warm stone. He unhooks my bra, somehow the only piece of my clothing left remaining. I bend over, sticking my ass out, waiting for his return. I peek over my shoulder, sneaking a glance at him as he shimmies out of his sweats. He kneels behind me and gently runs his hand over my ass, up my back, and settling on my shoulder. He pulls me to his chest. 

“Ready, babygirl,” he asks as he slides his hand around my throat, gripping gently, and I nod in response. His other hand curves around my body, grasping my breast in his palm. He gives it a rough squeeze before pinching my nipple. I suck in a breath through my teeth. 

“Good.” he lets out a little chuckle and soothes my bud between his fingers, gently rolling out the pain. His fingers glide delicately down my torso, and he cups my heat.

 “I’m gunna fuck this pretty cunt so good.” My mouth falls open, my head leaning back. Just as my head meets his shoulder, relaxing into his touch, he pushes me forward back to my hands. 

He notches his cock at my opening, both hands bracing me by the hips, and slowly enters me. I moan out at the pleasure of him slowly stretching me, and I silently thank god for the fact that we are isolated out here. I couldn’t be quiet even if I tried. 

The push and pull of his cock with each slow thrust softly warming me. I tilt my head back in pleasure as he starts to work up a rhythm. He delivers a hard smack against my ass, and I grip the stone hearth tighter, feeling the roughness under my palms. His hand rubbing at my cheek, soothing the sting. 

“You feel so fucking good.” Sam’s breathy tone giving him away. “So tight. You love the way my cock fills you up, don’t you?” I push back to meet his thrusts, hoping to get him there quicker, the desire to give him all the pleasure he gave me earlier, overcoming my need for anything else. 

“Yeah, you do. Look at you? So desperate. I bet if stopped moving, you’d fuck yourself right on my cock, huh?” 

His hand grips my hip tightly, and he pulls me back by my hair. His hand resuming his place around my neck, tightening his grip ever so slightly. Just enough to notice but not enough to restrict my oxygen. His other arm wraps around my middle steadying me for continued thrusts of his hips.

“You have no idea how badly I want that, babygirl. But I’m having too much fun listening to the sounds you make as I fuck you.” He lets out a wicked laugh. 

My jaw goes slack, and I bend my body more, allowing him deeper access with every thrust.  The new angle driving him into my G-spot, sending me reeling. The intensity builds in my stomach and I know Sam can feel it too. I reach a hand back tangling my hand in the hair gathered at his neck. He slides down, parting my lips and toying with my clit. Small tight circles coax me toward my end. Little by little, unraveling under his fingertips. I clench around his cock, and he knows I’m done for. 

“Come on, baby. Give it to me.” The sickly sweet tone of his voice in my ear sends a chill down my spine. I fight against the building pleasure, trying to hold out. My voice carries through the room, mixing with his heavy breath and the sound of our hips snapping together. Everything starts to become too much, and my muscles weaken; my hand falls to join his arm wrapped around me. Sam holds me tighter, keeping me steady against his chest. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum on my cock. Do it.” I let go completely, falling over the edge and succumbing to the pleasure of Sam’s cock. I moan out a broken repetition of his name, and he fucks me through my orgasm. I feel so full when he’s inside me like I never want to be anywhere else. He slows his hips, allowing me a moment of reprieve. Our heavy breaths move in unison as we try to calm ourselves. He lays me gently back on my stomach, careful to stay tucked inside. My head resting against the pillow I was sitting on earlier, my skin soothed by the plush blanket. He joins me where I lay, resting half of his weight on me.

“Oh god. Sammy.” I cry out at the feeling of his cock inside my overstimulated cunt as he pulls out to the tip and slides back in again. My hand finds his thigh, nails digging into his skin, and he grunts out. He takes that as a sign to resume full force. His thrusts are hard and fast. Working himself up to meet his own end. His heady breaths against my ear could drive me to another orgasm if my body was capable. 

“Oh fuck,” he growls. “I’m gonna cum.” his hips speed up, his pace unforgiving as his own release is in his sights. He holds his breath, and I brace myself, his hips snapping once more and pausing. Buried in me to the hilt, I feel his dick twitch with each spurt of release inside me. We let out a mutual ‘fuck’ as he releases. He teases himself slightly with gentle motions, slowly in and out of my pussy. His cum starts to leak out of me, landing on the blanket below. 

When I feel him start to pull out of me fully I beg, “No, no, no. Please.”

“What baby?” He asks, confused.

“Stay. You feel too good.” I whine pathetically. He slides fully off my body to his side, sneaking his arm under my head and pulling me close, spooning me. His cock still tucked pleasantly inside of me. 

“Is my little bird gonna warm my cock for me? Huh?” 

I hum out an affirmation. “I really fucking needed that.” 

“Yeah? You ready for that sauna yet?” He jests. “Little round two in there?” His hand makes its way to my breast, gently rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

I laugh and snuggle in closer to him. “Thinkin’ about it.”

Need more Sam in your life? 🩷

Sparrow Of The Dawn Masterpost 🤭

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[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

Hey I was reading through your blog and was confused by something. You had a question once from someone who wanted a small place to have as many biomes as possible and your answer was all roundabout like it's impossible or needs to be handwaved. But I also read something about Hawaii having 10 of the 14 climate zones. They're just a few tiny islands. What exactly is the different between biome and climate zones. Isn't that much of same thing? Climate zone are more narrow than biome and if Hawaii has that many than small place with numerous biomes is just very very possible. I mean to me it kind of sounds like the asker wanted something exactly like Hawaii but didn't know Hawaii fits the bill? I don't have a specific question for myself just but I'm looking in detail at climate and things so these came across as something odd I don't understand.

Tex: For some additional context:

The 8 climate zones on the Big Island by Love Big Island

The differences between climate zones and biomes by Oak National Academy

What biome is Hawaii? by Jane Smith | Hawaii Star

Much of the differences in Hawai’i’s ecology is mediated by the fact that it is an island chain in the Pacific ocean at around the equator, and thus is typically very, very humid. It also experiences a lot of precipitation, so its elevation doesn’t pose a significant factor in how much of what part of each island receives precipitation.

In order to have a desert, there needs to be very little precipitation (this goes for deserts like the Sahara and also tundra like the Antarctic). In order to have snow, and ice, it must regularly reach temperatures below freezing. Hawai’i does, yes, experience 10 of 14 climates according to the Köppen system, and here is a map illustrating that (Wikipedia):

The hot desert and hot semi-arid sections of the main island are generally isolated along one coastline, and the hot semi-arid are likewise few - I haven’t been to Hawai’i, so I cannot confirm if this is just because the soil is too sandy to grow much, and thus is very hot, or if it’s some other factor. The tundra areas on Hawai’i are, I believe, Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa, both of which are volcanoes.

To quote a snippet from the wiki on Hawai’i’s climate:

Temperatures at sea level generally range from highs of 84–88 °F (29–31 °C) during the summer months to 79–83 °F (26–28 °C) during the winter months. Rarely does the temperature rise from above 90 °F (32 °C) or drop below 60 °F (16 °C) at lower elevations.

Because of this, Hawai’i is not a typical example for a diverse climate - many islands are not, due to their relatively small size compared to continents. Australia, for example, is large enough to have significant swathes of biomes (Wikipedia):

And is also large enough to host a desert of a size comparable to the Sahara, Arctic, Antarctic, and Arabian, to name a few examples (Wikipedia). I mention Australia because it is a continent unattached to Eurasia, Africa, or the Americas, and also because its desert receives a significant amount of rainfall but remains arid due to evapotranspiration (Wikipedia).

A planet cannot create and sustain biomes the way, say, Minecraft can, primarily because it is a round object, and also because it is not computer-generated to have different biomes within a character’s walking distance. Anything small enough for someone to easily travel several different climates is likely going to be too small to have a climate, or at least one sustainable to human life.