#the animal of the mountain raise Rang

[helenreads28]

New headcannon

(no idea whatsoever of whether this has been done or not, let me know)

I present to you VEGETARIAN RANG

We've seen him eating meat on the show, and he is a fox so it kinda doesn't make sense, BUT HEAR ME OUT.

Yeon abandons Rang on the mountain and Shin Joo leaves too, to search for Yeon. Our poor little fox is all alone, with no one to take care of him. He is a kid, who is dependent on others; his brother and his brother's friend. Now that they are gone he has no one to turn to for help. But, we've seen how close to nature Rang was. We've seen his love for his dog and all living creatures (no humans included, of course). Also, we must remember that nature doesn't forget, she avenges herself when it's needed and takes care of those who treat her with respect.

The animals of the mountain remembered how Rang treated them, how he protected them and played with them as a child. That's why, when Yeon is gone, all of them start to protect him back. They sleep around him, to keep him warm, when it is too cold outside. They show him what herbs and fruits he can eat so he doesn't starve to death.

They become even more protective of him after the fire that took his precious dog away from them. Rang helped them get away from the flames and they want to pay him back in some way. Wherever Rang goes, they follow. They play with him and console him whenever he is sad.

Rang grows up eating all kinds of fruits, herbs, flowers and vegetables. Gone are the days when he used to eat meat too. He hasn't learnt to eat it, but also, he can't bring himself to even consider ever eating it. He would feel like a cannibal, of he ever ate any kind of meat again. All these different animals raised him, they may have been different from the ones that are usually on most families table, but they are still animals. They are his family; they cared for him when no one else would, they protected him, they fed him and played with him.

So no, Rang doesn't eat meat. He grows up to be vegetarian and respectful of every animal he meets. They are all his family, after all

[gremlingottoosilly]

A little cow girl hybrid with her owner farmer König

I raise the stakes!! Konig, who, as part of the contract that revolved around fighting a hybrid trafficking ring that sold demihumans as cattle, was sent to rescue some farm hybrid animals stuck in the breeding pan/inhuman farming conditions...but you, pretty rescued cow hybrid, isn't really good at living on your own after being rescued from a farm. You were either raised here and reached maturity in captivity - or you got captured so long ago, you don't even remember normal, human life. Konig can't just release you in the wild, you don't even have documents!! He knows it's fucked up, having a pretty cow hybrid in his house isn't so much different from the way you were treated at the farm, but...god, he just can't get his hands off you. He has a big property in the mountains so like it or not, you're turning into Austrian highland cow - and you like to roam around in the pasture while he is too busy on the firing range or at the house work. He doesn't really do nay farm work, he doesn't have time between the contracts - but he allows you to make a small garden, taking advice from a demihuman therapist that suggested you need some small activity to keep yourself occupied. Cow hybrids are generally light-headed and silly, so Konig knows he can't force you into doing harsher labor - although sometimes you like to cook and to wake him up with very loud cleaning sessions. But...of course, living with an adult, mature hybrid in your house is a tough challenge if you don't want to fuck said hybrid. Konig wants to fuck you, wanted you since the first time he had to bath you because you don't understand how the shower works and afraid of him just hosing you like people did at the farm - but he always forced himself to stop before he could actually force himself, always too awkward and nervous...even though he is obsessed with you, morals be fucked. And his morals do get fucked when you beg him to milk you. Pretty dumb thing, you don't understand that he won't help you for free - that once he is done drinking all the milk that summed up in your heavy, swollen tits, he will be forcing you on your back and make you moo as he bounces you on his cock. He doesn't enjoy quiet farm life as much as he thought he would, but he surely enjoys spending time with his newest pet...

[http-tokki]

ʚ⁺˖ ↠ blue

ᰔ pairings: dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader ᰔ content/tags: mha spoilers, childhood pov, abusive childhoods, childhood crush, blood, allusions to self harm/suicide, explicit language, smut, kinda not really, its smutty talk, angst, allusions to s/a, power dynamics, time jump to when touya is like 26, creative liberties have been taken with the original story, set in the century 2400 ᰔ wc: 10.5k ᰔ a/n: so there is a bit of a weird timeline with this one. instead of touya dying at 13, I've made it he dies at 16 and the subsequent events are a lil delayed, in the manga he is 24 atm but here i have him as 26, please suspend your disbelief for a sec cause the amount of work ive put into this so it makes sense, i almost went crazy

March 10th 2460 Touya: aged nine You: aged eight (and three-quarters)

Breakfast is at five, lunch at twelve, and dinner at seven.

The clock hands tick over the first five graduations and onto the sixth, meaning it is six minutes past seven and dinner is late.

Lateness is not tolerated by the Todoroki clan.

No reason, whether it be big or small, would be accepted nor understood by the head of the family, and punishment for being tardy ranged from groundings to lectures and in the most severe cases, a beating. However, those parameters do not extend to said head, who you think to be more akin to that of a prison warden than a father.

You watch the housekeeper slide the last of the food onto the table and take another look at the clock.

7:08.

The table had been set, food diligently prepared and presented, plates piled high with greens and dripping meat, three different kinds of fish, an array of soups, and other liquid foods. Mrs Todoroki often had trouble eating, so instead opted for warm broths and hot teas, and they were all going cold while you waited for Mr Todoroki to come in from Touya’s nightly training. Saliva coats your tongue as you breathe in the heavenly scents wafting from the mountains of food, your stomach growling in protest at not being filled with the delicious smells.

Ten minutes pass and just before the eleventh has a chance to be observed, the sliding doors to the dining room whoosh open. With the ease and casualness of someone who is above the law of the household, Enji Todoroki strolls in followed closely behind by the eldest sibling.

Touya trails behind his father, movements sluggish and slow, his frail body slumped in exhaustion and what you would only later realise as terror. You can almost see the muck that weighs on his body, dripping off sharp bones in big flat globs of swamp green mud, seeping into the reeds of the tatami mats below. Fresh wounds litter his arms, blooms of dark red blood pock the sterile bandages that were hastily wrapped around his limbs. The stark white began at his wrists and climbed up and up his arms until they disappeared beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. You follow Touya, eyes lingering on his wounds as he sits down opposite you.

“Fuyumi. Is he-“ Your question is hushed, spoken from the corner of your mouth to avoid raising suspicion of the subject.

“He’s okay, we don’t talk about it.” Her answer comes in a rush, eyes darting towards her father like a prey animal watching their stalker.  “Just eat.” 

Fuyumi’s mouth pulls into a frown for a quick second before her attention moves to the food before her.

You nod, attention shifting from the boy across the table to the plate that had been prepared just for you. A small helping of meat and fish paired with a big serving of rice and vegetables, the nanny even going as far as to put it into a divider plate as though you were a toddler, but you thanked her regardless, smiling up at the haggard-looking woman as she nodded politely and moved onto tending to baby Shouto. The food only holds your attention for so long before you glance back up at Touya, watching as he cuts into his steak with the precision of a man far beyond his years. Each move slow and calculated; every shift of his arms or turn of his head deliberate and purposeful, small actions to avoid raising awareness of his person. Come to think of it, all the children, save for Shouto, moved like that. As if they were in constant apologetic states just for breathing, existing, and with their father you understand why, but it doesn’t stop you from staring at the boy before you.

"Stop looking. He doesn't like it when you stare." Fuyumi whispers, smacking her knee against yours.

"But it looks like it hurts." You whisper back, unable to look away from the red splotches on the white bandages.

You want to ask if he is okay. If he needs a doctor and who did that to him? Was it a bully at school? How was the school not getting involved if he was being bullied this bad?

"Fuyumi," Touya sneers from across the table. "Tell your friend to stop staring at me."

Unabashed hatred simmers in his blue eyes as his glare falls on you. Heat rises to your cheeks, stumbling out an apology, and vowing to never look at him again.

No one had ever looked at you like that. With such hatred and malice, you didn’t even know existed.

"He plays rough, always falling over at school," Mr. Todoroki’s voice booms throughout the room, so loud and sudden it is like a thunderclap on a clear day. "You've got to be more careful, Touya. What would people think if they saw you like this!"

The lack of care for his son’s well-being gives you pause mid-bite. The vegetables fall from your fork as goosebumps skitter along your skin.

What would people think if they saw you like this?

What would they think other than he had been in an accident? Is Touya’s broken body a regular occurrence that people would be so used to seeing that it would start to raise suspicion? Had he been hurt on purpose? Why would Mr. Todoroki say that? Did Mr. Todoroki do that to Touya?

Your attention is pulled outwardly as Natsuo starts to talk about his day, telling his mom and the housekeepers all about the latest games and toys at school, the newest edition of a card game you like captivates you and your thoughts are swept away from the strange boy across from you. 

Dinner ended as it always did.

Mr. Todoroki called the housekeeper over to deal with the mess and children as he retired to his office and Mrs Todoroki took her evening walk around the grounds of the estate. You can’t stay the night despite it being a Friday, you’re never allowed to stay the night. Fuyumi had stayed at yours plenty of times, your parents never saying no to another friend but never you at hers. You thanked both her parents and waved bye to her brother before the youngest housekeeper walked you home. That’s how every Friday night ended.

That routine had become a staple in your life, going on two years, before there was a change to the way of things.

------

July 1st 2362 Touya: aged eleven You: aged ten

The shift was subtle and gradual, like the way a house is warmed by a fire on a winter’s eve. Slow and steady, seeping into all corners of the once-frozen house until all you know is warmth and you can’t remember how the cold felt. That’s how you would describe Touya’s presence in your life. From the arctic interactions each Friday night at the dinner table to someone you would call a friend.

The first thaw of the ice wall that had formed around your friend’s brother, was an accident.

Knee deep in the heat of summer, you had rushed over after summer school, swimmers in your backpack and a dream of jumping into the fresh cold heaven that was the local pool. You had come looking for Fuyumi, hell-bent on getting your poor friend out of the stuffy old house and somewhere she could have fun without the risk of her dad making her or her siblings cry.

You had come to hate Mr Todoroki.

He hadn’t done anything to you personally to deserve the contempt you held towards your friend's dad but you had heard enough from Fuyumi. She had told you all the times he made her mom cry. How there would be arguing and then the sounds of breaking plates followed by her mom’s cries. Mrs. Todoroki never said anything was wrong, never alluded to anything other than a mild argument but there had to be something more, right? Adults didn’t cry over nothing!

“ ‘Yumi, let's go to the pool!” you call down the hall. “I’ll buy ice cream this time.”

The housekeeper had let you in, instructing that your friend was in her room finishing up some school work but after you checked her room and found no sign of her, you went looking.

That is how you found Touya.

Walking into the bathroom under the assumption you would find Feyumi, you are greeted with a situation you are not old enough to understand the severity of.

Touya slouched on the bathroom floor, surrounded by bloodied towels, unspooled bandages, and uncapped ointment tubes. A piece of gauze caught between his teeth as he attempts to bandage his bleeding hand.

He shouts at you to leave, his command broken as he hiccups around the sobs falling from him. Scorched skin covering the majority of his arms, fingers red and blistering as they shake.

That image sears into your brain. Imprinting itself onto your eyelids so that each time you fall asleep, you see Touya; broken and bloody.

There isn’t much you remember from that afternoon, only flashes and stills that live in the recesses of your mind.

The feel of the cold tiles on your exposed legs as you knelt before the once terrifying older boy who had never had a single nice thing to say to you.

The smell of salt and metal of his fresh blood.

The sound of Touya’s cries as you peeled incorrectly placed bandages off raw and exposed skin.

The acidic taste of bile in the back of your throat upon first laying eyes on the scene before you.

It had been too much for little you to comprehend so you just forgot most of it. Thrown it into a locked drawer in your mind and lost the key.

That was the beginning of the thaw, a gruesome and bloody beginning to a friendship that spanned years and ended just as horribly.

------

September 23rd 2463 Touya: aged twelve You: aged eleven

“So it's this really old movie that my mum used to watch” you explain as you click on the familiar title screen. “It’s about a girl who gets transported to this weird world and she has to solve some weird riddle to get out.”

Touya looks at you like you had grown a second head but accepts your weird movie recommendation. You sit down next to him, popcorn bucket jiggling as the couch sinks under your frame.

The beginning animation of Spirited Away starts and the familiar tune wraps around you like a warm hug. This was the movie you liked to watch whenever you felt sad, and you noticed Touya was a little sadder than normal these days so you offered to have a movie night. His siblings had all said yes but upon discovering that the movie was one from decades ago, backed out. So with just the two of you left, you sit in silence and watch as the beautiful world comes to life.

It’s a nice moment between the two of you, sharing something so personal with someone you would have never considered a friend and here the two of you were, watching a movie. Like friends!

“I’m gonna call you Chihiro cause all she does is cry and that’s all you do too,” Touya announces as the credits begin to roll.

“I do not!” you retort, slapping his arm lightly. “I cry a normal amount for a girl my age!”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Chihiro.”

------

February 14th 2464 Touya: aged thirteen You: aged twelve

Spring is only a month away yet it feels as if it were the middle of December.

The cold of winter had sunk its claws deep into the city and it seemed as if it did not have plans to let go of it anytime soon. Everyone in Tokyo bundled up against the frost that coated the wind but it wasn’t the cold that had your hands trembling as you gripped a single rose.

It was Valentine's Day and you were about to ask Touya to be yours.

The nerves that had built in your stomach had taken over your extremities. It was as if your entire body was a live wire that every so often touched an exposed pipe and jolted.

In the two years since the bathroom incident, you had grown closer to the oldest Todoroki, sparking a friendship that consisted of more than smiles and shy hellos across the dinner table. Phone calls and text messages were the daily, walking to school and home together was the new norm, all things that one would consider friendly but there was a part within your heart that was growing to like Touya a little more than a friend. You knew it was a crush, you weren’t a little kid anymore, but you also knew that he was unattainable for many reasons. One was that he was a sibling of a close friend and the other being that he was not someone who thought about life that way. There was no room for crushes in Touya’s world. There was only hero work. How to become a hero and then how to become the number one hero.

You had heard this speech a million times. His plans to surpass his father in the rank of heroes and become the ultimate symbol of peace. Heroes had no time for girlfriends, only villains.

But you had no plans of becoming a hero so there was no real reason you shouldn’t try, right? Your mom had bought you the flower this morning, picking up on the crush that you had developed on your friend and very excitedly pushed you to give Touya a gift.  

“What do I do with this?” Touya asks, confused as he takes the flower from your hands.

You had stopped halfway through the walk home and turned to your friend, eyes wide with fear, and shoved the bloom into his hands. Originally the plan was to hand it to him as you said goodbye for the afternoon but you were swiftly running out of ways to regulate your breathing to counteract the anxiety wreaking havoc in your stomach.

“It's for you” you answer, eyes trained on your shoes. 

“Me?” 

“Yes.”

“Are you asking me to be your valentine?” There is a pause. “Do you like me?”

Yes.

“No!” you lie, shouting the word even though you didn’t mean to. “I felt bad that you hadn’t gotten anything, so I got you something and there you go, it doesn’t mean I like you.”  

You hear footsteps, watching Touya’s shoes move closer to yours. “Just admit, you like me.” He teases. 

“I do not!” balling your fists, you stomp your foot. “I already told you why I got them now shut up before I take them back!” 

Another pause. 

“Thank you,” Touya says gently. “Even if it's just cause you felt bad for me” 

Spring had come early for Touya Todoroki.

------

June 28th 2466 Touya: aged fifteen You: aged fourteen

Romance had blossomed between the two of you, then wilted, then blossomed again, then wilted again.

Teenage hormones had been unleashing havoc on your friendship for the past year. One day you were fine and the next, barely speaking but it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“You two just need some time apart and then you can talk about it, you guys will sort it out.” Your mother had cooed, stroking your hair back as you cried one afternoon after you and Touya had had a ruthless argument.

The topic of fighting was always the same. His insane need to overtake his father and prove him wrong. The need within him had turned insatiable. Morphing from a dream that would one day be achieved with dedication and hard work into something that was turning your best friend into a ravenous beast.

“You’re not listening to me. I need you to listen to me.” Touya shouts as you walk home together.

“I am. You’re just not making sense.” You roll your eyes at your friend, turning your attention away from the raving lunatic walking beside you.

“Why would your dad have it out for you? He’s your dad?”

Touya huffs and stops, hand wrapping around your wrist to pull you back.

“My dad isn’t like your dad. He doesn’t love me or any of us. He just wants us to be better than All Might.” His words are slow as if explaining something to a toddler. “He knows that I am more powerful than him and now he’s scared that I might beat him so he wants me to stop training.”

You groan out his name, annoyed at the constant conversation topic. “Your dad wants you to stop training because you keep hurting yourself. He has told you that a million times, he’s just trying to keep you safe.”

“If he wanted to keep me safe, he wouldn’t have let me train like this. This isn’t about me being safe, this is about me outranking my dad.”

“Touya-“

He continues his tirade. “Enji has realised that I am better than him and Shoto but he doesn’t want his loser son who can only use fire to become the number one hero. I don’t know why you’re on his side. Why can’t you be on my side for once?”

“I am on your side!” you shout, yanking your arm away from his grasp. “I’m always on your side, why do you always make it seem like everyone is against you!”

Touya’s mouth snaps shut at your sudden outburst.

“I can’t keep having this argument with you. I feel like you don’t even want to be my friend so you come up with this stupid stuff to push me away and if you want that, fine. Just tell me so I don’t have to listen to you anymore.” You huff and turn around, starting on your way home without your friend.

You don’t hear his footsteps follow you.

His apology comes in a text later that night.

I'm sorry, Chihiro. Can we still be friends?

------

October 19th 2466 Touya: aged fifteen You: aged fourteen “Can you promise me something?”  Touya’s words become mist in the mid-autumn night.

“Depends.”

You turn to face your friend, feeling the dew-soaked grass squish beneath your shoulders. Hidden behind the garden wall, lost within the shrubbery the two of you hid from the housekeepers who had been tasked with wrangling the children in for dinner. Touya had run first, taking off down the hall the second he heard the call of his name and you followed, unaware as to what you were running from but you followed him everywhere so why wouldn’t you now?

“Please don’t forget me.”

“Forget you?” your brows crinkle in confusion. “Why would I forget you? Are you going somewhere?”

Touya is still on his back, attention rapt on the stars twinkling above him.

“Just when we get older and go to different schools and things change, you know.” He sighs. “Just don’t forget me.”

You sit up, concern overtaking your confusion. Why was he talking about this stuff now? Your friend turns to look at you, mouth pulled down in a frown as tears line his cerulean eyes.

“I won't.” You shake your head, scooting closer across the grass and grab his cold hand, interlocking your fingers together, you squeeze and swear an oath. “I promise, I won’t ever forget you.”

November 24th 2367 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged fifteen

Nights come quicker in winter.

Which means less time spent with Touya.

But at least there is a little extra time when he walks you home on an evening.

It is a little awkward. Walking so close together but not actually touching aside from the occasional brush of fingers that sent your heart into a sprint. There is something unspoken between the two of you, something that teeters on the edge of romance but not something that you are both ready to dive into. It’s not like you are kids anymore, if you are going to date, it will be different than if you just liked each other. You will have to act like a girlfriend and not his friend and you didn’t know how to be a girlfriend. Was it any different than how you acted now? Plus, kissing and hand-holding. God, you want to kiss him.

You both stop at the gate of your house. The lights in the living room are on which means your parents are up waiting for you.

Touya drops your backpack at your feet.

There is a beat of stillness between the two of you, the tension rising with every second. You had not spoken a single word to each other the entire walk home and you don’t think you will even say goodbye. Touya offers you a tight smile and steps back, confirming your suspicions of a silent goodbye.

"Hey, I need to tell you something." You blurt out the words, not wanting him to leave just yet.

"Yeah?"

"I…umm," you stammer, slipping your hands into your jacket pockets. "I know it's your birthday in a few weeks, so I wanted to know what you want as a present."

"That's a question, Chihiro” Touya's mouth lifts at the corners. “You said you needed to tell me something."

“I got mixed up." You amend.

"You sure? There isn't anything you need to tell me?" Touya pushes, taking a step to close the gap.

"I'm sure. I just got confused" You nod, affirming your choice of words. “What do you want as a gift?”

"Hmm,” He pauses and takes a few more steps closer, lips pursed as if deep in thought. “Well, I want some of those cookies your mom makes." 

Touya stops a few feet from you, close enough for a hug but not close enough that it was weird. 

You laugh. "Really? That's it? You don't want a proper present?"

He nods. "Wrap it up, and it'll be a proper present.”

“Okay, cookies it is” You mirror his nod and smile. Your palms start to sweat, cheeks and ears begin to burn as you look up at your best friend.

“Any more questions?” 

You shake your head. “Nope, that’s all.” 

“Okay, well I’m gonna go 'cause I should have been home ten minutes ago but you are such a slow walker” he teases, bouncing up on his toes. 

“I-Um,” you stutter, unable to come up with a snappy comeback due to his proximity. “Go home before you get into trouble.” 

“I’m gonna.”

He makes no move to go.

Silence fills the gap.

“Ahh, well I’m going to go since-“

You’re interrupted by a soft kiss against your cheek. 

You still, unable to move at the realisation that Touya had just kissed you. 

“Okay, I’m going.” He announces and takes a step back. “I’ll see you on Monday?” 

You nod, raising a hand in goodbye as he starts back down the street.

“I hope you like me too, 'cause that kiss made me late and my dad’s gonna kill me!” he shouts back, already halfway down the street. 

“I do…like you…back” you shout awkwardly, feeling every inch of blood your body had flood into your cheeks. “Good luck. Hope your dad doesn't kill you!” 

------

November 30th 2467 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged fifteen

You speak at Touya’s funeral. 

The third speaker of the ceremony, having been urged on by Fuyumi and Natsuo despite your protests, and the one to close off the day before his ashes were taken home. You tried not to cry, bottom lip wobbling all day and you would have made it had you not been shoved on stage, microphone held to your face as you unfolded the crumpled sheet you had stuffed into the pocket of your coat.

The rest of the day was a blur as was the week,  then the month and only after six full months of grieving daily, crying god only knows how much, did you finally start to see the light at the top of the hole you had buried yourself in but unlike the times you and Touya would play together, his warm hand wasn’t there to help you back up.

------

January 4th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five

You think about Touya Todoroki often.

How your best friend had been killed in some freak accident. How despite his father rushing into the flames to save his son, had come out unscathed yet all that was found was Touya’s jaw bone. It didn’t make sense and you had driven yourself crazy with theories surrounding his death. It was an accident, they had all said. Even if it was an accident, Enji Todoroki was not innocent.

You think about the kind of man Touya could have been if he had lived, what kind of hero he would have become. How he would save the day then turn and smile at his adoring fans, blue eyes blazing bright with pride. You often think about his eyes, remembering how they softened whenever he would smile at you, brighten as you offered half of whatever snack bar you had that day. You think about him enough that you think you’re going crazy when you look up into the eyes of a stranger and see Touya staring back at you.

"Touya?" you whisper as you stare at the strange man.

You had walked headfirst into their chest while crossing the dark street, ducking under awnings to avoid the winter rain. Hoping to cut ten minutes from your usual walk home, desperate to beat your roommate home and into the warm embrace of your apartment’s limited hot water, you took the risk of walking down the alley; what you weren’t hoping for was to bump into your best friend’s dead brother. There was no way it was him, maybe he was a distant Todoroki. Enji did seem like the type to spread it around so maybe a few illegitimate children were running around with the eyes of Endeavour.

His hand reaches out to grab your arm, nails digging into your exposed flesh. You want to wince, to cringe away from him but something within you is telling you to hold your ground. The stranger pulls you closer, all false bravado leaving you as you realise what’s about to happen. Your body tenses, hands uselessly curling into fists at your side.

"Who the fuck are you?" a harsh whisper cuts through the quiet patter of rain.

The hand your arm tightens when you take too long to respond. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Your answer whooshes from you, all air leaving your body in a single sentence.

The stranger ducks his head to get closer to yours and you turn your face away, afraid to look into the face of the man who had the eyes of a long-lost love. This had to be some sort of joke, right? You were not about to be assaulted by a guy who had Touya’s eyes, there was no way the universe was that cruel.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to I’m sorry, please.” Hot tears roll over your cheeks, your bottom lip quivering as you fight the frown wanting to form. You were not above begging despite knowing it wouldn’t do any good, if there was some way to get out of this situation alive and unscathed, you were going to try it. 

“Hey,” the stranger calls to you, shaking you gently. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

Great, he’s playing mind games now. You’ve seen enough true crime to know that there are no good people left in the world, especially the ones who lurk in alleyways.

A cold hand reaches out and grips your chin, lifting your face to his. The gesture is intimate, gentle and familiar.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean anything by it. I'm sorry, I-“You’re sobbing now. 

“Look at me” he interrupts, fingers tightening on your cheeks.

He repeats his order when your gaze doesn’t move.

You sniffle, blink back tears that refuse to stop coming, and focus your attention on the man before you.

“I’m not going to hurt you so stop crying,” his voice is soft.

The hand that was on your arm now cups your cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that coat your cheeks. His skin is rough and warm, but there is a bite of something cold on his palm. He holds you with such tenderness you feel a tug at your heart not for any feelings towards the stranger but because you had never been held like this before. That a complete stranger who was probably a crazy psycho villain was holding you with the care you hold a baby animal with.

“I need you to stop crying and answer me, can you do that?” he asks, nodding as his thumb continues to brush over your cheek. 

You nod, taking in a shaky breath. 

“Good girl.” Heat floods your cheeks. “Now, why is a pretty girl like you walking alone at night?” he asks softly.

You blink up at him, surprised at the switch in demeanour. 

“I just finished work and this is shortcut.” you don’t have time to come up with an elaborate lie. “I’m really sorry about the whole name thing, you just look like a friend who died and I thought that maybe he wasn’t actually- I’m sorry” You feel the tears welling up again. 

“Well, he’s not me.” He sighs, removing his hands from your face. You kind of miss the warmth they had. “I’m sorry you lost someone, but I don’t think accusing strangers of being dead people is a good idea.”

You nod wordlessly, too stunned at his shift in tone to formulate a response. The man reaches up for the hood of your raincoat, pulling it over your head tight to shield you from the rain. 

“I need one more thing from you okay?” he asks, ducking his head to look into your eyes. “You gonna listen to me again?” 

“Okay.” Your voice shakes. 

“Don’t mention that name to anyone else, alright?” 

He waits for your nod and then releases your hood. “You’re such a good listener” The fact he is praising you has your heart spinning. Wasn’t he ready to attack you a few minutes ago?

“Now go home” he nods his head to the exit of the alleyway. You follow his nod and look back at the light-filled street. “And don’t walk down backstreets anymore, you could get hurt.” 

By the time you turn back to face him, he is already halfway down the alleyway arms raised in a farewell. You watch as he turns the corner and only when he is gone do you let yourself breathe. ------

March 6th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five

"Let it go, dude," Natsuo sighs for the umpteenth time as he packs his books away. "You're lucky you didn't get hurt. He could have been a complete psycho."

Your friend is right and has been every other time you have brought up the strange man from the alley and you can tell by the way he shoves the textbooks into his backpack that his patience is running thin. Over the years, you had grown closer to Natsuo, looking at him like a little brother who you could force to hang out with and do things Fuyumi didn't want to. Unfortunately for him, he was the first person you called upon meeting the stranger (Knowing Fuyumi would have had a heart attack upon hearing about your encounter). Initially, Natsuo was concerned, terrified for your physical and mental wellbeing even going so far as to suggest letting his father know about the incident to launch a formal investigation but you were quick to shut that down. You hadn’t been hurt and the man didn’t seem to be skulking in alleyways to assault anyone so there is no reason you should get heroes involved.

"Dude, he looked so familiar! I know him," you press on, hands splayed on the library table as you lean in as if you were about to reveal a secret. "I think he was a childhood friend."

You had purposefully omitted the fact the stranger bore a striking resemblance to his dead brother or how his entire aura radiated familiarity and warmth something you only really felt from said brother.

Natsuo laughs and zips his bag closed. " 'Yumi was your only childhood friend."

"Fine, a neighbour, maybe I don't know, but I know him."

"Should I schedule you with my family psych, or will this fade by next month?" You frown at Natsu, sigh, and then give in to his pronounced lack of interest.

"I don't need to see anyone because I know I'm right," you start to pack up your things. "But, just for you, I won't mention it again."

------

May 17th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five

You feel stupid.

Really fucking stupid.

So monumentally stupid with every single decision that has led you to this moment. Led you to stand before a thick metal door, the sliding peephole pulled back to allow the man guarding the entry a view as to who knocked like some girl scout. The box of cookies in your hands does nothing to evade that image.

“I have a meeting with…Dabi?” you look down at your phone, squinting at the blurry name on your screen then back to the man guarding whatever was in that building. “I think.”

You have no idea if you’re being set up. If the person you had been corresponding with was the infamous villain or just some poser but what you have deduced from your months long investigation is that you had in fact met Dabi in that alleyway so whether it was him or not you were about to meet, he is your only lead into finally figuring out what exactly happened to Touya

“You think?” You hear the smirk in his voice at the uncertainty in yours. “I think you might have the wrong door, sweetheart.”

It is the right door. The creepy encrypted message you received gave you this very location with the exact time to arrive. This was a giant risk on your behalf. Trusting strangers on the internet to give you accurate information as opposed to being lured into a trap for human trafficking but the need to know more about the mysterious man you had met weeks ago was gnawing at your insides so much that you were more need than person. The hunt had begun with a very broad search into Touya’s death and the records surrounding the tragedy before very quickly veering into villain records and archives. There was a small lead with a hospital admittance for an unidentified burn victim in a hospital a prefecture over from Tokyo but that went cold when the body of the patient was identified two weeks post mortem through dental records. You had all but given up when a weird email in your spam box caught your eye. It was from an unknown sender, hence the immediate spam allocation, and had nothing but a link to a chat site. There is no amount in the universe to quantify the stupidity in your subsequent actions from clicking the link to chatting with the stranger on the other side of the screen but they had the information you wanted and so you followed their instructions to a bookstore, then a bar and then finally an internet café where you logged into the already open discord chat that had the location of the final meeting point. You quickly snapped a picture of the chat before it disappeared and three days later, here you stand in a deserted alleyway surrounded by boarded-up doors and graffitied walls.

“This is the address I was given.” You explain, holding up the phone so the guy can get a look at the message. “I promise I'm not with the police or anything, I just have some questions for Dabi and I know that makes me sound like I’m a police officer but I’m not and I’ve been looking for him for weeks so please, let me in.”

Your mouth sets in a frown and despite wanting to look intimidating and rough, you know you look like a child pouting in an attempt to get more cake. “Please, I’ll give you some cookies if you want.” A shitty bribe but a bribe nonetheless.

The man snorts. “You really have cookies in that box?”

“Yes. Fresh and homemade made and some of them can be yours if you let me in” You wiggle the box.

There is a beat of silence then the sliding peephole slams shut.

Fuck.

You close your eyes, disappointed in the fact you had come so far only to be shut down by some guy behind a door. Maybe this was the universe stepping in and preventing you from getting killed or trafficked. Maybe you should let this whole thing go.

Just as the last of your hope leaves you, you hear the click of a lock and then the door is sliding open. The man who you had been speaking to not ten seconds ago stands before you, muscular tattooed arms crossed over his equally muscular chest.

“Choc chip?” he asks, eyes trained on the box in your hand.

You nod.

“Fine, come in” The man tilts his head in a gesture to welcome you in. “Leave some on the counter.”  

You nod again, your pace quick as you enter the building beyond the door.

The hallway is dim and damp, filled with cardboard and wooden crates stacked along the walls. The ceilings are high with exposed piping and hanging fluorescent bars that would have once lit up the entire walkway. Light bleeds beneath the many doors that line the hall, muted sounds following the flashes of colour that leak from the closed-off rooms. The smell is unpleasant, with mildew and mould growing along every available surface but what did you expect a dirty unoccupied building to smell like?

“Where’s the?” you turn to ask about the counter, but the man has disappeared. The door slides shut caging you in from the outside world, from an escape if need be. “Hello?” you call out and take a step back, dried leaves crunching beneath your feet.

Fuck. Fuck.

You turn on your heels, heading for the door you had stepped through a few seconds ago but are stopped by a familiar voice.

“Did you really bring me cookies?”

You whirl, fingers tightening on the box between them. “Yes, but if you don’t want them, it’s okay. I just thought that I might-“

You watch as the man you had met weeks before steps into the dim light. Breath catches in your throat as you are met with the face of the villain that has filled your screen for weeks now.

Dabi.

He is taller than you remember. Towering a full foot over you, his intimidating figure looms in the dim light. Your eyes follow the line of his scarred skin over his cheeks, down his neck, over exposed collarbones before disappearing beneath the neck of his shirt. Heat fills your face at your wandering gaze and you’re thankful for the lack of lighting.

“Who says I don’t want cookies?” Dabi smirks, taking a step out of the shadows.

“No one.” your answer is a broken stammer, earning a bemused snicker from your companion.

You take in a breath and square your shoulders. “I just don’t want to accuse you of anything.” A better delivery.

The villain hums and takes another step closer. “So, it is you then.”

Another foot closer, and when you don’t back away, one more. His steps are careful; small and reserved as if trying not to frighten you anymore than you already are. The routine is repeated, a hesitant dance of pushing proximity limits until he is less than a foot away. Blue eyes narrowed on you, brows furrowed in intrigue. Same blue as before. Same blue eyes as Touya.

His apprehension and fascination leave as quickly as it came, and you're left staring at a man who looks as if he wants nothing more to do with you.

“So, pretty girl, what can I do for you?” tone casual, pet name rolling off his tongue effortlessly. “You’ve gone through all this trouble to what?”

The thought of lying did cross your mind on your way over but you had already jumped through enough loops to get this meeting, you aren’t in the mood to play games and risk his irritation.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Dabi tilts his head to the side the way an animal does to hear better. There is something so unsettling about the he moves, something not entirely human.

“Talk about what, angel?” his eyes blaze blue as he notices the twitch in your lips at the byname. “About the league? About you? Me?”

“About you.”

Heat pools in your stomach at his affectionate pet name, embarrassment following suit. You should not be letting him get to you the way he is, but it could also be a good bargaining chip. If you couldn’t afford his services monetarily, physical payment would not be entirely painful.

“We can talk about me but first, I want to ask you something.”

“Sure.” The false confidence you had summoned before has not left you yet.

The insincerity of your act is palpable, but Dabi lets you go, lets you take this small win.

“How long did it take you to find me?” his question is genuine, interested in just how exclusive access to him is.

An exhausted sigh leaves your body at the mention of the time that you had put into locating him and his lips quirk at the gesture.

“Four months and 2 weeks, I think.”

An irrationally long time but there are questions that demanding answers.

“So, you’ve spent almost five months thinking about me?” he taunts.

Me. The emphasis on the pronoun doesn’t evade you but you don’t have time to dwell on his excitement.

“Yes. And now I’ve answered two of your questions, can I ask one?”

Dabi shrugs and reaches for the box in your hands. Rough fingers brush against the back of your hands, goosebumps skittering over your skin at the contact. He takes his time opening the small white box, bottom lip pulled between his teeth in contemplation at the contents before him and after a full minute of silent deliberation, does he pick one. Slender unscarred fingers dig into the box, fishing out the biggest and most chocolate filled treat.

“Did you make these?” Dabi holds up the choc chip cookie, inspecting the biscuit in the low light.

“That’s three questions now.” you announce as the unofficial score keeper. “and yes, I made them this morning.”

The making of the desserts had been a coping mechanism on your part. Too nervous to sit still but not so overstimulated you were willing to exercise to shake off the extra energy, you turned to an activity you hadn’t touched since university. The recipe was one you know by heart, having it gifted to you by your mother on your eighteenth birthday, you were free to think as your body worked through the motions. However, the purpose behind you baking said sweets was not entirely self-soothing.

Dabi nods and bites into the biscuit.

“I know you already said you don’t know the guy I mentioned when I first met you and I haven’t mentioned him to anyone again just like you asked me, and I figured with you being a villain, you might have connections that I don’t have and you can access more information as to what happened to him and I promise that I can pay. I’ll pay whatever you want but I don’t really have that much but I’ll pay in food, and that’s kinda why I brought some cookies to show that I can bake but that will only be a small amount because I’m good for a couple thousand-“ you reach into your back pocket to fish out your wallet. “I promise, I won't ever mention this to anyone, but I just really need your help, Dabi.” The juxtaposition of your pastel purple Kuromi wallet holding thousands of dollars as payment for a villain’s services almost makes you chuckle but the lack of recognition from your companion causes you to pocket the purse.

Dabi’s stare is unamused as he chews.

“Why is this guy so important to you?” he asks around a mouthful of chocolate. “You’re willing to blow thousands on some dead guy, not to mention you’ve risked your life coming here, so why is he so special?”

Your fingers curl into a fist, nails digging into your palm before you relax and answer.

“Because he died in a really weird way, and I need to know if there was anything I could have done to prevent it.”

“That’s a stupid reason.” Dabi spits out.

A frown tugs at your mouth.

“He’s dead. Who cares how he died and whether you could stop it or not.” He continues, rolling his eyes as your pout forms. “What’s the real reason you’re looking for answers? There’s something else.”

“It’s stupid.” You mutter, suddenly embarrassed at the reasoning for your investigation.

“Ohh, it can’t be that stupid if you’ve put all this effort in.” Dabi croons. “Come on, angel. You’ve gotta tell me why if I’m gonna do all this work looking for him.”

You take in a deep breath in hopes of smothering the tears that are threatening to spill but the lump sticking in your throat has other plans.

“Because he was my best friend and I loved him and I never got to say goodbye.” You sniff, nose starting to run as the tears build. “Please.”

Dabi stares at you.

“You made these?” the question comes out of left field.

You blink at the villain, unaware as to where he is taking the conversation but answer him nonetheless.

“Yes, I did. It’s stupid I know, bringing cookies as a bargaining chip but I-“

“Your mom’s cookies are better.”  Dabi interrupts.

My what? My mom?

“What?”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry but her cookies will always be the best.”

Your jaw slackens as you stare at the man before you.

“My mother?”

“Yes. Your mom made better cookies, and it’s not for lack of trying. Yours are really good, but they’ll never beat your mom's.”

Is he fucking with you? Is this some elaborate psychological warfare that he enacted on all his victims? Are you about to die? How does he know about your mother’s cookies?

“Aww, don’t get upset Chihiro. I'm just being honest.”

The nickname rattles your soul.

Touya.

Before you can even register that you are moving, you have crossed the space between your bodies and swung at the villain.

Your clenched fist collides with his jaw, surprising him out of his teasing. Arms wrap around your waist as you collapse against the villain. Your knees break the fall, bones scream out in pain as they slam into the concrete, and you brace for further impact but it never comes. There is a moment when you truly believe you are going to be killed, incinerated into nothing but ash for your assault but nothing happens and so you are left with no other choice but to get answers from the man under you. There is no clear choice as to why you chose violence, some primal part within you acting out of instinct. There isn’t enough time for you brain to catch up or even process that information that had been thrown at you. . In most high-pressure situations, you would retreat inwards and carefully unpack each and every detail of the occurrence like you were a kid under a Christmas tree; not a package left untouched, but you don’t have that luxury in the current moment.

Hot fat tears stream down your face as you grip Dabi’s cheeks in your hand, his skin rough beneath your fingers.

“You’ve been alive this whole time?” you cry, fingers digging into the gaunt flesh and when no answer comes you ask again, the palm of your hand connecting with his cheek in a sharp slap. “You left me to think you were dead, but you’ve been alive?”

Below you, the villain stares up in disbelief. Eyes wide at the mad woman above him, screeching like a banshee let loose. His thin shirt is scrunched tightly between your fingers, pulling the material taunt against his body. You have no control over your actions, feral and bowing to your emotions. You watch as your hand slips to his neck, pushing at the base of his throat.

Finger wraps around your wrist, pulling your weight off his windpipe and then the world shifts.

You are flipped over as easily as a leaf in the wind. Now on your back, the dust that had been kicked up from the floor sticks in your lungs and you cough as you cry.

Dabi hovers above you. Legs on either side of your hips, hands pinning yours above your head preventing you from causing any more harm to him. You try to kick, to wrench your hands from his grasp, throw him off you with your hips but nothing. You fight back against your opponent, teeth gnashing as you desperately try to find purchase on skin but he has done this too many times before to leave anything to chance. All points of access to an injury on his behalf are sealed up, held high above you and there is nothing you can do to reach.

Your cries are loud and deep and aching. Air leaves you with each heaving sob and you fear you may never breathe again. Spit and tears mix in a hot mess across your cheeks and you would wipe away the mess if not for your hands held above.

“I hate you so much.” You seethe, teeth clenched as you breathe in. “I fucking hate you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You hear Dabi apologising over and over again.

A hand brushes over your forehead, then your cheeks, then your jaw.

“You left me.” You wail. “You left me there, all alone.”

Your chest heaves, air being gulped down as if you had been held underwater to the point of drowning and it felt like you had been. You had been held under for so many years and now you were getting a moment of air, and your brain could not process it. 

You take a few more breaths, calming the blood roaring in your ears and pounding heart and finally when your breathing returns to a semi-acceptable rhythm, do you finally acknowledge the man above you.

Dabi glides his palm along your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone before resting his fingers along the side of your neck.

“I’m so sorry.”

A frown pulls at the corners of his mouth.

There is no longer a villain before you. Dabi does not exist. The boy above you is Touya. Your Touya.

You knew it. You knew it was him all along.

“Is it really you?” your voice is hoarse from crying.

“If I answer, you need to promise to keep it a secret,” he whispers, free hand curling in the ends of your hair that lay splayed out beneath you.

“Promise.” You nod and hold out your pinkie the way you did so many times as children.

Touya interlocks his pinkie with yours.

Fresh tears prick at your eyes.

“Hi, Touya,” you whisper.

“Hi.” He whispers back, hand pulling away from yours to glide over your jaw and slot into the hair at the nape of your neck. “I missed you.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull his body against yours in a bone-crushing hug. A laugh leaves your friend as he loops his arm around the back of your neck, holding you close. You pull back, face now centimetres from him and wait for him to make the next move. Your body follows his breaths, following his lead just the way you would follow him all those years ago. A lump forms in your throat and you know you look insane; hair mused, cheeks flushed and soaked in tears, eyes still red and crying.

Touya closes the distance, mouth hovering above yours and you think he is going to kiss you but nothing comes.

“Did you really love me?”

A sob leaves you involuntarily.

“I loved you so much, you have no idea.” The truth spills from you. “I love you so much.”

At the confession, Touya kisses you.

His mouth is soft on yours in the gentlest of kisses, almost as if he was afraid that you would fall apart if he pushed any harder. You part your lips to test the waters and when Touya follows your lead opening his mouth against yours, you grip onto the shirt bunched up around his waist. He lets you lead, lets you take control and set the pace for the first few minutes. Following your moves and pressure against your body to not push you any more than you already had been but as you whimper beneath him, his demeanour shifts.

Fingers tighten in your hair and the hand that had been holding himself up comes to rest on your waist, slipping beneath your body to pull you closer to him. Your mouth opens wider beneath his and you feel his tongue trace your bottom lip before flicking into your mouth. Menthol and chocolate fill your senses and you scramble for more, hands gripping his face as you desperately try to get your fill of him; of Touya. The steel of the staples bites into your palm but you don’t care, don’t care what form you have him in, you have your Touya back.

You’re being lifted off the floor, hoisted to sit on his lap, feeling the entirety of his body against yours.

You pull away to stare at him, not believing this is happening and that at any moment you are going to wake up or snap out of your delusion.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Touya asks, eyes frantically searching for the reason you aren’t kissing him anymore.

Your chest constricts at his concern. The same sweet and caring boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

“I’m okay, I just-“You stroke his cheeks and he leans into your touch, inhaling a shaky breath. “I missed you so much. There was so much we didn’t get to do.”

He frowns and nuzzles further into your palm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t want you to apologise, I just want..” You can’t form the words. Can’t articulate the need within you for him. All these years you’ve held a torch for your deceased best friend. All these years you could have had him with you and now that you do, you aren’t letting go. “I just want you.”

Touya’s frown deepens. “Even now?”  His thumbs stroke circles along your clothed skin.

You know he is referring to his crimes. All the bad he has done and probably will do. You do not care. You had long ago abandoned your hope in the heroes of society, having been granted a look into the past of the now top hero. There is nothing for you in that world, nothing on offer that could sway your feelings for the man below you.

“Even now, and tomorrow and the day after that and yesterday and the day before and the month before that” You smile, knowing you weren’t making sense but none of this made sense. “I never forgot about you.”

Touya’s eyebrows knit together in an expression you don’t know and for a moment you panic; worried you had crossed a line that you didn’t know existed. You want to apologise, take back the words that had so carelessly tumbled out but his grip on your body stops you.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he sighs, hands sliding up to press into the small of your back.

“Really?” you beam, unable to stifle the excitement that grows in you at his confession.

You are no longer an adult woman sitting in a dirty and dusty warehouse; you are fifteen and hearing your crush confess words you had been so desperately wishing to be spoken.

Your best friend’s fingers trailing over your spine pull you back to the present.

“Never for a single second,” he tests the waters and slips one hand under the hem of your shirt. “I never wanted to forget you.”

When no protest on your behalf comes, Touya slips his other hand beneath the material and begins to trace shapes into your skin.

“What did you think about?” your question is breathless, head beginning to swim as you feel heat bloom in your stomach.

Touya hums in thought, fingers beginning to climb your ribs. “Good things. Great things actually.” hands splay over the band of your bra. “some bad things but that isn’t important.”

Your thighs slip further apart at the implication; weight now fully resting atop his hips. There is no doubt that he can feel the heat from between your legs, the warmth that had begun to pool in the seam of your panties.

“Bad things?” you ask the question without knowing what kind of answer you would get. “I was nothing but nice to you, what bad things could you be thinking of?”

You feel his cock twitch at your innocence. Perfect.

Your answer comes in the form of an action. Touya leans forward and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. All teeth and tongue as his fingers pressed hard into your spine, holding you against his body as if you are a buoy and he is lost at sea. Your own hands begin to wander, sliding from where they came to rest on his neck, into the hair at the nape of his neck and as he digs his teeth into your bottom, you pull at the strands between your digits.

Touya pulls away, breathless.

“I always kept an eye on you, you know.” he pants, pushing your body away only enough to ogle you freely. “And I’ve gotta say you grew up so well.”

There are two thoughts that cross your mind in that spilt second. One: to bring up the fact he has kept you within his sighs for years, has been in the shadows of you life and how there is a part of you, not that big but enough to plant a seed of betrayal, that you can’t forgive him for that. Two: to throw caution to the wind and give into the part of you that aches for him.

The latter wins out.

“I did always think that Dabi was really handsome” you admit, an air of nonchalance in your words.

“Oh yeah? Even with all the new mods?”

“New mods?” you laugh. “Why do you make it sound like you’ve upgraded a game or something?”

Touya laughs with you.

“I’m serious,” vulnerability swims in his eyes as he looks up at you waiting for praise. “Do you really think that I’m still handsome?”

You nod and duck your head closer to his. “I still think you’re so handsome and you will always be handsome, which is really unfair.”

His lips are pressed against yours in a soft kiss. It's gentle and sweet, with no hint of the darkness lurking just below.

“Even after all these years how do you manage to make me so weak?” Touya pulls away to admire you.”You, my pretty girl, are my weakness.”

He tucks your hair behind your ears, holding your cheeks in his cupped hands and pulls you back in for a kiss and you melt into his touch at the possessive compliment.

“All these years, I never thought I’d get to talk to you again let alone touch you.” His mouth moves to your neck, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “but, fuck, have I thought about it.”

Your skin flushes at his confession.

His teeth sink into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to break the skin.

“Thought about kissing you like this” his words are slurred.

Slick begins to pool in your panties, the seam of your jeans dampening.

“Thought about having you in my lap, just the way you are and how good you’d feel on my cock.”

Your head swims at his words.

“When I saw you again for the first time a few years ago, it took everything in me to not walk up to you and kiss you right there and then.” He bites lower, nipping at your collarbone.

Rough hands make their way under your shirt, exploring the expanse of your back.

“Thought about holding you and kissing you and taking you home.” he bites again. “God, the amount of time I’ve spent imagining you under me or spread out just for me.” Breathing becomes hard. “All for me, just for me.” He chants your name as if it were a prayer.

You grind your hips over his, feeling his cock hard and aching beneath you. Touya groans against your throat, fingers digging into your skin. Hands begin to wander downwards until they find purchase on the buttons of his pants, stopping at the metal for approval from the man beneath you and when it comes in a rushed yes, please you flick open the clasp. Your movements are awkward and nervous, having never thought this would happen and you can tell Touya is just as jittery. His fingers dip under the waistband of your pants, toying with the soft elastic of the band. Your hands follow his and pull at the material, trying to pull it down but stop at the realisation there is no way you could do this and still look seductive.

“I’m trying really hard to make this hot, but I don’t think it’s gonna work.” You admit, giggling at the absurdity.

Touya shakes his head, removing his hands from your hips to hold your face again. “I don’t want to fuck you here.” He presses a kiss to your nose.

Before you can ask, he is answering.

“I’m not gonna have the first time I fuck you be on a dirty floor in a random building.” A kiss on your right cheek.

“But what if I want that?” you retort, hand reaching down between the two of you.

His breath catches as your fingers brush against his clothed cock.

“I know you want that,” he pulls your hand away and entwines your fingers. “and you know I do too,” A kiss to your left cheek. “But I had a plan back when we were younger,” he brings your hand to his lips. “and I’ve already had so much taken from us that I’m not letting our first time be taken too.”

Your heart squeezes. He really is the same boy you fell in love with.

“So as much as we both want it, please let me do this, okay?”

You pout, a habit you had formed long ago that usually got you what you wanted from him.

“Please, baby.” The pet name is a gut punch.

 You nod and hold up your pinkie.

“You promise?”

Touya grins wider than you had ever seen and entwines his finger with yours.

“I promise.”

May 17th 2477 Touya: aged twenty-six You: aged twenty-five

-------

ᰔ a/n: NOT PROOFREAD! ohmygosh, this was a long haul. I wrote it and then rewrote it and then rewrote it and so on and so forth till I got here. tiny TINY smut cause i didn’t wanna write a whole ass thing so I might do a one shot of it later. this exhausted me holy- also shout out to billie eilish lmao her entire new album helped me write this mainly chihiro, the greatest and blue but also harry styles' as it was and madds buckley's brother

[littlenightma]

Run, Rabbit, Run | Thomas Hewitt x Female!Reader (NSFW)

Author’s Note: *slams post button* Here you go, sluts *evil cackle*

Warning tags: Primal kink, chase kink, breeding kink, lots o’ smut.

The Texas sun kissed your sweat-soaked skin with a harsh pressure of a thousand blow torches. His heavy breathing and roaring of his chainsaw pushed you forward, to keep going no matter what stood before you, but the persistent throbbing between your legs teased the resilience of your rapidly depleting willpower.

Miles separated you from the farm house and separated you from the rest of civilization. Oceans upon oceans of rocky dirt, dying grass, and the occasional road kill were all that could be seen.

The radiating sun, which had been sitting proudly in the sky to the East, now sat lamely in the West beginning to hide beyond the horizon. The ivory moon would force away its suffocating heat, providing the barest of illumination, increasing your chances at escaping.

A small part of you wished the sun would stay out and light up the world just a little while longer.

“You’re so polite for someone your age. You remind me so much of my boy Thomas.”

“If he’s anything like you, ma’am, he has to be the sweetest boy around.”

He was a six foot tall mountain of muscle and power, running with the determination of a blood hound tracking the scent of a wounded animal. When you thought you had successfully outsmarted him by suddenly changing directions within the tall, golden thickets at the last second, he’d still be barreling after you, unphased, no further than he was before.

There were moments, fleeting as they were, but impressionable nonetheless, where he had been so close to getting a hold of you. So close, the slight breeze from his hand attempting to grab your hair raised your skin, sucking the breath from your chest as you narrowly dodge him.

And that made things even more thrilling.

His grunts of frustration were muffled by his mask and the tight curve of his bottom lip. The lip jutted out awkwardly and looked as if it had been stung by a bee the way it was swollen.

Deformed.

And this deformed man was coming after you.

To him you were an outsider. A pest that needed eradicating. Even though his Mama willingly invited you into their home, he made you feel as if you were trespassing anyway. He wanted to kill you then and you were sure as shit he wanted to now, probably more than ever seeing how you keep escaping him.

She’d had asked him to keep you alive so assuming that he’d follow through with her request, your life would be spared, but for what sick reason? Would death be more lenient than what they had planned for you?

Of all days for your tire to blow out…

“Here he comes now,” said the woman, smiling expectantly as the basement door opened and out from the darkened staircase came Thomas.

The boy, no man, stood protectively behind the older woman. He placed his hands on her shoulders, watching you with narrowed eyes that were partially covered by a curtain of black, curly hair. To you, they looked like snakes ready to strike, and so did he.

His nose and lower half of his face was covered by a worn, leather mask that wrapped around the base of his head with thick straps. It looked uncomfortable to wear as it was was to look at.

He was not pleased to see a stranger sitting in his living room and you wanted to sink deeper into the faded couch and disappear. Maybe if you pushed against the cushions hard enough.

A muffled scream came from the basement. Luda Mae glanced up at her son then back to you. Your back straightened.

“What was that?”

She smiled, yet it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Nothing, dear.”

Again, the basement door opened, and out came a man in a Sheriff’s uniform. Fresh blood splattered across his chest and arms, trickling down as he sauntered his way into the room.

“Who in the hell is this pretty thing?”

Time slowed down and so did your breathing. All three had you pinned with various stares ranging from curiosity, understanding, and searing contempt. You weren’t going to risk it. You jumped from the couch and hauled ass out the door, leaving a trail of dust behind.

“Son of a bitch,” said Hoyt. “Boy, go get her before she causes us any trouble.”

Luda Mae grabbed Thomas’ hand. “Keep this one alive, baby. She’ll be good one to have around.”

Thomas wanted to argue his Mama’s odd request, but the sweet smile she gave him and the gentle way she held his hand made him reconsider. He didn’t want her, that’s for damn sure, but whatever his Mama wanted, she’d get.

In the midst of your recollection you realized it was ominously quiet behind you. Peering back, he was no longer running after you. I’m fact, he wasn’t there at all.

You spun around, eyes frantically searching the desolate landscape. He didn’t just vanish into thin air, not a man of his size, yet he had. The weeds danced and suddenly parted, revealing him on all fours as he pushed himself off the ground, propelling into you with a gut-wrenching force, knocking you onto your back.

His full body weight had you pinned, flattening the dry brush beneath you. His barrel-chest heaved and his hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing. As frightened as you were, a strange sense of relief washed over and the instinct to raise your hips overtook you.

He tried moving away, but your legs locked him in. You awkwardly shimmied your shorts down and he watched you. His anger dissipated, replaced by hunger the more of your thighs he saw.

You captured his curious gaze, “Look how wet you made me.”

Your hand reached down and massaged your aching pussy through your sodden underwear. You were a mess, physically and mentally, and if you didn’t get fucked soon you were going to go rabid.

“Thomas, please. Don’t make me beg for it. You know what I want.”

Hearing his name revved him up like an engine. He could practically smell you through his mask. Your pussy glistened beneath the moonlight and he was more than willing to comply. With one hand still around your throat, he used the other to hastily unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

He roughly pushed your soaked panties aside and thrusted roughly inside you with a loud grunt. It was swift and had you not been as wet as you were you knew it would have hurt more than it did. You gasped and cried out, pounding your fist to the ground. He fucked you like an animal. It was exactly what you’d been yearning for and if felt so fucking good to finally get it.

His hips bucked with a mighty strength, sending you backwards every time. It made it hard for him to keep himself inside you without having to adjust his position. He scooped you up like a rag doll and pinned you against a tree, folding you between it and his body. The change in position was too much as the angle allowed him to reach new depths inside you, hitting spots you never knew you had, sending you over the edge.

Your climax arrived so suddenly that it left you silently shaking and clinging to Thomas. Your pussy clamped down like the jaws of a lion and he growled, spilling his seed inside you from the tightness.

He laid you both down on the ground with your back to him. You took the time to catch your breath and settle down, but Thomas had other plans. He raised your top leg in the air, spreading you wide and began pumping again.

“Slow, Thomas. I’m really sore.”

Not thinking he’d actually do as you asked, you were surprised at the gradual way he eased his thick cock back into your pussy, keeping a close eye on your face. Although you were too spent to cum again, you nestled back against his chest and idly enjoyed his thrusts.

“Just like that, Thomas. Oh…”

His head was right there and the temptation to kiss him was too good to pass up. Soft lips met his through the mask and he jerked back, stopping his movements altogether.

“God, don’t you stop, Thomas. Your cock is too good. Come back here.”

You wrapped an arm around his head and he let you bring him back down. This time he kissed back, licking and sucking your lips like they were made of chocolate. You were in absolute bliss, not thinking clearly, lost in a haze of euphoria.

With his mouth full of you and you full of him, he groaned a guttural sound that didn’t sound quite human. Your pussy took his second load with open arms, milking every last bit of him he had left to offer. You broke the sloppy kiss to watch his cock pulse and his balls twitch, finding it super erotic.

His cock left you open and wide. You clenched your walls and streams of his fresh cum gushed out. You swiped some and brought it to your lips with Thomas watching in clear fascination. You then offered your finger to him.

He titled his head and inspected the leftover fluid. After some time of pondering his tongue tentatively flicked out, considering the taste, then placed your entire finger in his mouth. He sucked until there was nothing left to suck except the saltiness of your skin.

Using the tree as a support, you carefully maneuvered up. Everything was sore, from your head down to your hips and the simple task of bending down seemed impossible. In an oddly sweet gesture, Thomas gathered your shorts and helped you put them back on.

“You know,” you began, eyes twinkling mischievously, “It’s a long way back to the house. Who knows what could happen on the way there.”

Thomas made a sound caught between a chuckle and a scuff. He watched you strut away, eyes glued to your bouncing ass.

His Mama was right. You were worth keeping around.

[madeleineengland]

INTERNATIONAL SNOW LEOPARD DAY 🐱 (23rd october)

Snow Leopards are often called the 'ghosts of the mountains' due to their elusive nature & their ability to blend seamlessly into their icy, high-altitude habitats. Their thick fur, large paws and long tail are adaptations to the harsh environment.

Snow leopards live in the mountains of Central Asia. Their range of distribution is over 1.8 million km2, with the largest share in China, followed by Mongolia and India, but only 3,920-6,390 individuals remain in the wild now.

Let's celebrate them but also raise awareness on Conservation and Protection of these animals. The snow leopard acts as an indicator of the health of the mountain ecosystem in which they live. Sadly they face many threats in the wild including habitat loss due to climate change and poaching.

Here a useful link to donate: https://snowleopardconservancy.org/

Curiosity:

○ snow leopards can have between 1 and 5 cubs.

○ The cubs have blue eyes for the first few weeks.

○ Snow leopards parents don't raise their cubs together. The male leaves right after the mating.

○ The mother usually warps her long furry tail around the cubs like a fluffy blanket.

○ Due to the shape of their throats, snow leopards cannot roar.

[serpentface]

The two populations of native Wardi lions, a wild male and captive semi-domesticated (maned) lioness

Lions are one of the last extant true felids in this setting. The native Wardi lion population is low in density and could be considered endangered, (though relatively stable and not in active decline), having survived the continental interchange, changing climate, and sophont expansion that wiped out most other felids. They are most common in areas outside of the range of king hyenas (notably the deserts, edges of the salt pans, hills, and oak forests). The Wardi population is characterized by relatively light coloration and dark, scruffy 'mohawk' like manes. The only other known surviving lion population in the world is in the forested region east of Imperial Wardin, genetically isolated by the Blackmane mountain range and spared competition with hyaenadontoid 'cats'.

These animals had great significance in ancient 'heathen' Wardi culture (prior to colonization by two former Burri empires and development of the contemporary monotheistic faith). The exact details of these traditions have been lost to time, though they were clearly venerated, either as gods themselves or as sacred animals of a key deity (known from relics depicting a deified maned lioness)

Two distinct strands of this tradition survive into the contemporary. One is in the folklore of the Wogan people (an ethnoreligious minority in contemporary Imperial Wardin with common cultural ancestry with ethnic Wardi, displaced from their original homeland during the time of the last Burri empire). Wogan folklore casts maned lionesses specifically as minor deities who can shapeshift into human form, often to mate with men (with the resulting children being demigods). The Wogan culture hero Ianobi (semi-mythological founder of the ancient city that was sacked and rebuilt as Erubinnos) is claimed to have a lioness as a mother.

The other remaining branch of this tradition is Odomache (the 'lion face' of God in the imperial Wardi faith) and Its Odonii order of priestesses. Though their contemporary role is primarily interlinked with the military and as physical embodiments of imperial soverignty, they are also ceremonial keepers of a captive, semi-domesticated population of sacred white lions, raised primarily for roles in routine animal sacrifice (both as a conduit for God in consuming offerings, and as sacrifices themselves)

These white lions compose a solid third of the remaining Wardi lion population. The captive population is characterized by very light fur (which is not albinism but a result of selective breeding) and extremely small size. Maned lionesses occur with a higher frequency than in wild populations, and will be intentionally selected for breeding, seen as the most perfect representations of/ideal sacrifices to Odomache. They can be considered semi-domesticated, well accommodated to human handling, entering estrus more frequently, and showing phenotypical signs of domestication (especially spotted skin, some coat variations). While aesthetically pleasing, this captive population is heavily inbred and commonly overfed, and most animals have an unusually short lifespan.

[sqvishii]

I just reread book 2 so consider: Silver vs Leona love triangle. I think everybody always pays more attention to Malleus v Leona, but these two have my heart. Maybe Silver is impressed with the Prefect's calm under pressure, charisma, and strategic abilities when they rally Savanaclaw's students against their leader and defeat him long-range with magic from the stands (like having Ace try to blow away the sand with his wind to give other mages clear shots, and using standard fire shots to burn up the oily blot). (Sorry, I just like to play with the Leona OB fight in my head.) And when he wakes up, maybe Leona starts to respect the Prefect's gumption and smarts more, when they still put up a fight in the Spelldrive match and fulfill Azul's contract.

Yuu swears, all they did was defeat a couple of overblotting mages, and suddenly got a loyal, caring friend and a leonine prince hanging around them all the time. And now both are trying to invite them to their home for the winter holidays, glaring at each other all the while? What's a Prefect to do?

there would be three endings:

silver:

you'd be in briar valley, uhh- kind of dangerous place for someone without magical powers, but you can manage. lots of cliffs and mountains, you'd be in a.. cottage (I FORGOT,, BASTA ITS WHERE SILVER WAS RAISED), small and cozy.. or the castle (or something..), but no matter- silver is always there for you if anything happens.

during the winter holidays, you two would sometimes house a bunch of animals that bursted in one day and warm them up with magic.. or make flower crowns-

acorn bracelets.

leona:

wowzers, sunset savannah.

respect, especially if ur one of leona's.. "friends", you'd get along with some of his relatives and if you like kids (NO. NOT THAT WAY 🙏), you can always play with cheka! a ball of sunshine, you like him- leona doesn't.

during winter holidays, he just.. sleeps. what's the point of having you come over to his homeland, then? have you as distraction so that he can sleep and cheka doesn't bother him?

just kidding (kinda),, leona would drag himself to go with you if you ever go somewhere to watch over/protect you, even if it's a woman and he's kind of intimidated (because they are much physically stronger and more strong-willed than the men), he'll try his best to prove his worth.

EITHER.

GO AND HIDE IN RAMSHACKLE !!

you'd want nothing more but to spend the cold winter inside your dorm, raccoon in your arms while you do a certain activity and the ghosts that haunted you since the first day just.. roaming around.

but seriously, stay at the dorm, DO NOT go to the kitchen and get roped into another overblot.

[disco-archetypes]

SHIVERS - All around you, rain falls on the great city of Revachol. Rain drips from the eaves and floods the gutters, washing the filth away.

SHIVERS - Winter's grip on the city is loosening. The spring thaw is here.

YOU - Finally. What now?

SHIVERS - Your shirt sticks to your chest. The shoulders of your disco blazer grow heavy. The cold finds its way in under your skin. You shiver, and the city shivers with you.

YOU - What is in the west?

SHIVERS - Sheets of rain over the water. A flight of stairs leading into the ocean. Wave after wave washing the coast of Martinaise, with its motorboats and gently swaying reeds.

SHIVERS - The ruins of a half-sunken seafort crumble on an inlet. Beyond the Bay of Revachol, ghosts rise into the sky.

YOU - Who are you, ghosts?

SHIVERS - The skyscrapers of La Delta, the financial district. Faint golden light seeps from the office windows.

YOU - What is down the shore?

SHIVERS - Urban coastline, rain dripping off eternite-covered roofs. Cinder blocks left over from half-finished construction. A defunct research and development building once seized by revolutionaries. An old wooden church stands on stilts above the water.

YOU - And beyond that?

SHIVERS - Coal City, end of all lines.

YOU - Run your fingers through your dampened hair.

SHIVERS - Your hair is an oily mess flecked with ash from neighbouring coal plants. Smoke stacks rise somewhere in the distance.

YOU - What's in the east?

SHIVERS - The great gates of the industrial harbour are locked. A chill runs down your back. You shudder like an animal trying to shake water from its hide.

YOU - Clench your teeth to stop shuddering.

SHIVERS - Behind the gates -- heaps of supply crates. Red and blue metal shipping containers slick with rain. The Greater Revachol Industrial Harbour is an artificial mountain range. Immense wealth resides within, and immeasurable poverty in its shadow.

YOU - And beyond that?

SHIVERS - La Drisienne, King Dris's Passenger Harbour. Cruise ships flanked by dock arms. Cranes watching over the mouth of the river distributary.

YOU - What is across the distributary?

SHIVERS - Couron, the lower middle class. Distributary after distributary cuts the city blocks in half. Seven-story buildings trail off into the rain.

YOU - What is beyond the Couron?

SHIVERS - A silvery curtain of rain over the houses. The class divide.

YOU - What's in the north?

SHIVERS - Capeside apartments -- tower blocks crowd one another, 4.46 mm bullets still lodged in their war-torn stone walls.

SHIVERS - Hallways collapsed from the mortar hits of a war that was lost long ago. Clotheslines go to waste in the rain. Radios play.

YOU - And closer to here?

SHIVERS - A yard. Rain falls onto the roof of a woodshed. Filthy water pools around a body. Droplets of rain slip from the dead man's cold cheeks.

YOU - What's in the south?

SHIVERS - A traffic jam. Rain thrumming on the roofs of motor vehicles. Inside, drivers watch water streaming down their windshields. The statue of a king shudders, he too is cold. The canal bridge has been raised.

YOU - What's on the other side?

SHIVERS - The road ascends; a raised motorway loops above the ghetto. Beneath its concrete columns -- a sea of rooftops, woodwork, and tar stretches northward. Four-story buildings as far as the rain can fall. The snows melt in Jamrock.

YOU - Why am I not there?

SHIVERS - To be in Martinaise, where no one goes. At the run-off point of a long-forgotten canal, in the whitest part of town. In the shadow of the day the Revolution failed.

YOU - What am I doing here?

SHIVERS - Standing in the rain, looking north, where Jamrock Rock City stretches inland.

YOU - Where do I live?

SHIVERS - On a street there that flows like a muddy river in the snow, with fire traps rising on either side. A film rental opens its doors to the rain, an armoured motor carriage rushes past the corner where you used to walk together... Suddenly, the hair on your back rises.

SHIVERS - YOU CANNOT RETURN.

YOU - Shudder, look further...

SHIVERS - In the rain-swept distance above the rooftops of Jamrock, a re-purposed silk mill stands perched above the motorway exit. Precinct 41 hunches in the rain.

SHIVERS - Your vision blurs. You wipe your face with your hand. The rain stings your eyes, making you look up and blink.

YOU - What's above?

SHIVERS - More coalition aerostatics. Way up there -- where rain forms -- rotors flutter silently. Your sight clears.

YOU - What's below?

SHIVERS - Collapsed storm drains. Old sewage systems flooded with rainwater. Hidden weapon caches from the Revolution. Doors leading down to Le Royaume -- the catacombs to which, for three centuries, they delivered the blue-blooded dead.

YOU - "Motherfucker." [Finish thought.]

SHIVERS - These spring thaw will not last. The winter will return to Revachol.

[snvffsoda]

some random/silly headcanons for Mason!!

almost every cloth, leather, and blanket, is handmade from pelt from the animals he’s hunted, ranging from bear hide to elk, to any other varmint or critter that he can skin to keep him warm, he favors this more hands-on approach when it comes to having things if it wasn't crafted from his hands in his cabin, its probably not his.

being raised in a religious cult in the mountains far from civilization, was always a bit hard for Mason growing up, even as a teenager he was always a bit enamored with outsiders, the way they walk, and talk, he used to dream of leaving the cult behind and meeting people outside the grassy confines of the mountains, but as he got older he quickly realized that kind of life simply wasn’t for him, the hustle and bustle of the cities were never his style, he now much preferred his quiet mountain far from prying eyes, and loud cars and people.

learned his hunting skills from his mother who died when he was a young man, the coat he wears is one of the last gifts from his passing mother, his father was never around much, being too focused on the cult's needs being a higher figure in the cult than that of his own son. thinking about those memories now, only left a bad taste in Mason's mouth.

his sadistic traits grew as he got older, the more he was revered for his hunting skills by his peers in the cult the more it bolstered his ego he could kill so easily, he knew the animals he hunted like the back of his hand but after some time it all became..a bit stale. the thrill of the hunt, catching his prey, it started to only dull as he kept using his skills on these animals, he needed something fresh, something new to study and hunt, and eventually plunge his knife into. His girlfriend Sandy, was the perfect first candidate,

While he may seem cold and cruel to anybody unfortunate enough to be at the end of his crossbow outside of his hunts Mason is pretty joyful and polite, he loves what he does, and he isn't ashamed of what he does either, and if he likes you, you can sometimes catch him humming a soft tune to himself while he chops wood for fire or tell you a hunting story of his, late night by a warm fire, huddled up against him.

Mason doesn't view what he does as murder or kidnapping, he views it in the same way a wolf will eat a rabbit, he caught you, and now youre his. Whether that be he uses you for his own personal pleasure or to make trinkets from your bones he gets his fun in either way, even if youre begging and pleading for your life the whole way through.

he doesn't understand much about the internet, the most he's ever used it was on his damn near prehistoric laptop he uses to google the occasional questions regarding hunting he doesn't know much about social media, and the like, but he finds it all too confusing to even wrap his head around to even try to understand.

whenever he is sad or angry (in the rare cases he is) he’ll calm himself by going on hikes across the mountains, he's made his own trails not far off from his home, and some days he’ll stand up gruffly announce to the room to anyone listening “Goin’ for a walk..I’ll be back.” and won't return until hours later, it helps him clear his mind. Being a part of the natrue that surrounds him always calmed his head.

late at night when all is silent in the mountains, Mason can sometimes hear the sounds of whispers, indiscernible..they call to him..to a river, he can barely understand the voice or who or what causes it, but he tries to pay it no mind, even if it will leave a cold sweat beading down his head, while he tries to sleep, he was never one for superstition, like the cult that raised him was.

he smells like pine and dried oak, a very natural earthy smell with an underlying hint of his raw musk from his outdoor activities

prefers salty, savory food over sweet, but has a sweet spot for homemade cookies he’ll make for himslef when he craves it, usually after a good hunt to treat himslef after an eventful day.

Mason has an acoustic gutiar he keeps hanging up in his cabin by his window, he handcrafted it himself when he was still a teenager during his time in the cult, sometimes he and Sandy would sneak out at night from their homes while their parents slept and he’d sing Sandy songs, under the stars of a dying fire.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Ecology Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Autotroph - Any organism that is able to manufacture its own food; derive energy from inorganic sources (light or inorganic chemical reactions)

Benthic - Organisms that live on the bottom of the ocean

Biome - A community of plants & animals that occupy a distinct region; defined by climate and dominant vegetation: tundra, desert, grassland & forest; can be subdivided, i.e. boreal, temperate, tropical forests

Boreal forest - (also called Taiga) Largest terrestrial biome, characterized by having very cold winters and coniferous forests

Dessication - Mummification

Detritus - Accumulated organic debris from dead organisms

Detrivore - Any organism which obtains most of its nutrients from the detritus in an ecosystem

Disturbance - An event that alters the ecosystem, i.e. the plant community and possibly the physical environment; natural disturbances include fire, landslides, windthrow, insects, disease, etc. Levels of Disturbance:

Tree-level: affects single trees or small groups of trees

Stand-level: affecting large groups (many hectares) of trees (insect epidemic, hurricane, logging, wildfire)

Site-level: affecting the physical environment is a dramatic way that all life is lost and a new soil environment is created (lavaflow, glacier, landslide)

Planet-level: affecting the planet as a whole (big meteor, death star...)

Frugivore - Animal which primarily eats fruit

Groundwater - Water found underground as a result of rainfall, ice and snow melt, submerged rivers, lakes, and springs. This water often carries minerals. These minerals can accumulate in the remains of buried organisms and eventually cause fossilization.

Halophile - Organism which lives in areas of high salt concentration. These organisms must have special adaptations to permit them to survive under these conditions.

Limnology - The study of river system ecology and life

Orographic Lift - Occurs when an air mass moves over a mountain range, air cools, drops precipitation, then as air moves down the lee side it warms and creates a rain shadow

Pelagic - Organisms that swim through the ocean, and may rise to the surface, or sink to the bottom

Rain shadow - The dry region on the leeward side of a mountain range, where rainfall is noticeably less than on the windward side

Riparian - Having to do with the edges of streams or rivers

Saprophyte - Organism which feeds on dead and decaying organisms, allowing the nutrients to be recycled into the ecosystem. Fungi and bacteria are two groups with many important saprophytes.

Silvics - The study of the life history, characteristics and ecology of forest trees

Tolerance - The capacity/ability of an organism to endure (survive, withstand) adverse effects from unfavourable environmental conditions; the opposite of sensitivity

Upwelling - The raising of benthic nutrients to the surface waters. This occurs in regions where the flow of water brings currents of differing temperatures together, and increases productivity of the ecosystem.

Xeric - Describes an environment or habitat with little moisture; dry to very dry

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Word Lists

[buggywiththefolkmagic]

Hello!! I was wondering if you have any book recommendations for Appalachian folk magic? Especially for a beginner, I’m familiar with our local “old wive’s tales” but I’d love to learn more!!

Hello there! I have answered this question before but I have some new resources so I'll list them here!

It really depends on which part of Appalachia you are looking at! And if you want to dig deeper the ancestral roots of the family you are looking at. For example my family has a lot of Welsh and British influence because that was our family source so a lot of those beliefs lingered and changed throughout the years!

Someone from Pennsylvania would likely have a lot more German roots for their practice. But despite the root differences for the folklore these practices stem from they do still share a lot of connecting points!

But having babbled all of that here are my favorite books on AFM specifically. (Mind you Christianity takes a super huge part in the practice so a lot of bible and doing things in threes for the Trinity is involved!)

Authors to check out:

H. Byron Ballard- A pagan who also practices AFM, from the NC side of Appalachia, a lot of people hate her writing style which is a bit ramble-y. I also dislike the term she uses for her own practice but that is a super simple and small complaint honestly. I own all of her books on the subject, which should say something.

A NOTE ON H. BYRON BALLARD: I no longer support her work after discovering she is a TERF. I will no longer be suggesting her as an author to follow.

Jake Richards - From Eastern TN like me! A lot of what he talks about are things I have seen before, and he breaks down complex concepts like burn blowing into something relatively easily understood. HOWEVER HAVING SAID THAT the author is partially Melungeon, so he does have some Hoodoo mixed in from his grandmother's side iirc? He does label these things in his works and explains that they are not for everyone which I do appreciate.

Rebecca Beyer - While vaguely Wiccan toned, which I attribute to her publishers/raising, she's a transplant to Appalachia and if you're looking for herbal information on Appalachia and to wax poetic about how even with a ton of people settling there SO MUCH of the natural herbs and plantlife still survive, read her work! Her work on foraging safely and environmentally is so SOOOOO good.

Brandon Weston - For Ozark Mountain range/German/Dutch Appalachian work! He has written quite a few books on the subject and all of them are a treat!

Roger J. Horne - For how to dig into folklore and apply it to your own practice! This author is pagan and does blend in some traditional work with the Appalachian but I do enjoy his work and how he applies folklore. This author is also FROM Appalachia which is nice to see.

INDIVIDUAL BOOKS TO READ:

Appalachian Folk Healing by Jake Richards - A republication of a very old book on remedies and 'spells', while kitschy and stupidly worded, after all it was a popular book created just for sales reasons, some of these remedies are things I remember having done to me! Good for both a giggle and actual information. TW for mentions of animal parts, hunting, illnesses, the G slur, period specific phobias and racism.

Albertus Magnus - These books all supposedly written by an ancient guy, were actually mildly common on traveling salesmen's trucks and wagons. So as a result a lot of people in Appalachia had access. Like the book above it is very stupidly worded and definitely of their time. Same TW as above.

Pow-Wows or Long Lost Friend - Another Pennsylvania Dutch book! Very good and very clear.

Southern Folk Medicine - A book that breaks down a lot of common medicinal beliefs in the South which does include Appalachia! Sadly not just Appalachia but a very good book regardless. THIS BOOK MADE ME UNDERSTAND THE THEORY BEHIND BLOOD ISSUES MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE EVER HAS.

Moon Eyed People - A collection of Welsh folktales that brewed within Appalachia from Welsh immigrants. Very good book imo!

Granny Buck's Dibs and Dabs - This book is so worth the price tag! One of the more expensive books in my collection, but I'm fine with that. Granny Buck covers a lot of topics and I can feel the accent through the wording!

Signs, Cures, & Witchery - More German Appalachian stuff! This book and it's interviewees are from the Kentucky side of the mountains!

Witches, Ghost, and Signs - This book is based more in the Southern Appalachian area! Georgia, SC, NC, and TN specifically! Lots of folklore here, but does mention some not so great bits of the lore, but that is expected.

The Foxfire Books - What began as a school project exploded into a collection of true to life stories and idioms from Georgia elders within the mountains. SO SO GOOD OKAY? For everything. How to plant, hunt, make musical instruments, anything from the mountains? They cover.

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

A Little Helping Hand

A LITTLE HELPING HAND | Azriel x Fem!Fairy!Reader 

SUMMARY: Azriel is hunting down a rogue band of Illyrian warriors – but when their tracks seemingly vanish, he gets a helping hand from a small resident of the forest.

WARNINGS: Not much, mentions of getting a cold, Azriel is low-key a flirt

WORDS: 1.2k

Azriel had been hunting the rogue Illyrian group for two days now. He was far into the woods of the Illyrian mountains, and the cold was harsh against his body. Snow peppered the ground and trees, but sparsely, with not enough to hold footprints, an easy way for the shadowsinger to find them.

But Azriel was a spymaster, and did not need footprints in the snow to find his prey. He could smell their scents that they’d tried to hide with the pine needles in the trees above them, and he could see places where dirt and pebbles had been disturbed, even if only slightly. His shadows whispered to him as he tracked down the Illyrians, telling him where to look, where the disruptions of the peace of the forest lay.

Azriel prayed to the Mother that he would find the rogue soldiers quickly. It was cold and miserable, and he felt the irritating feeling of a blocked nose coming on. He should be back in Velaris in front of a fire, reading a book and getting better. He knew Rhys and Feyre would wrap him up in a blanket and force-feed him soup as soon as he came home sick, and they would fuss over him every second of the day. And while Azriel would complain about being fussed over… he would deal with it. Because when they fussed over him, it showed him that they loved him.

A rustling in the bushes behind him caused him to whip around, Truth Teller already in his grasp. He sank into a defensive position, watching as the bush stayed silent, the green leaves unnaturally still. Azriel’s nostrils flared as he tried to scent whatever was in the bush. The shrub was too small to be hiding an Illyrian warrior, so it had to be an animal of some sort. His shadows revealed nothing, so he slowly turned away from the bush and continued on his hunt.

The Illyrian warriors knew how to cover their tracks, and maybe someone less skilled than Azriel would have had trouble finding them. But Azriel had been spymaster under the rule of two High Lords, and had acquired centuries worth of knowledge and skill.

Azriel reached a crossroads where the tracks suddenly disappeared. The warriors’ scent vanished, as did the small disturbances along the path. Azriel paused in his tracks, puzzled. How had that happened? The track was there only a minute ago… Azriel stepped back, one step, two steps, and sure enough, he could scent the males again. But he took two steps forward, and they were gone.

Azriel stared at the ground, his shadows whispering in his ear. They couldn’t find much, and they were just as perplexed as he was.

“They went that way.”

Azriel spun around to face the small voice, Truth Teller gripped in his hand, but nothing was there except trees and bushes. But he had heard something…

The bush rustled and Azriel watched it as something small and glowing exited the safety of the leaves. It took him a moment, but he recognised it as a fairy, the creature only a little bit bigger than his thumb. You wore clothes made from leaves with fluffy cuffs, maybe created from an animal’s fur.

Fairies were extremely rare, and often confused with pixies. They were small, fae-like creatures, with similarities ranging from their pointed ears and elongated limbs. Two key differences between the fairies and the fae were, of course, their size, and their iridescent wings. While they appeared fragile, a fairy’s wings were actually quite resilient.

Your eyes were glued to Azriel’s blade, so he slowly sheathed it. Fairies didn’t tend to be violent, but one could never be sure. That was why he kept Truth Teller within easy reach, and his siphons glowed slightly.

“They went that way,” you repeated, pointing with a small hand. “The rogue warriors.”

Azriel raised a brow at you. “How do you know I was hunting them?”

You began to glow, and Azriel realised it was the fairy form of blushing. You looked anywhere but at him, and wrung your hands. “I was… I was following you.”

“And why is that?” Azriel inquired.

Most of the time, if someone had admitted to following him, Truth Teller would be pressed against their throat and Azriel would order them to inform him of why. But you seemed innocent, and Azriel was simply curious.

You rose from the bush, your wings fluttering fast enough that they almost became invisible, and hovered near Azriel’s hand.

“Your gems are pretty,” you complimented, not answering Azriel’s question and fluttering closer. “May I touch them?”

Azriel hesitated before answering. Was this maybe some sort of trick? You seemed very comfortable with him, but why? Had the rogue soldiers somehow orchestrated this?

“You may,” Azriel responded slowly.

You flew closer and reached out, your small fingers brushing against the cobalt of his siphons. They glowed brightly where you made contact, and you smiled dazzlingly at the sight. You flew up in order to be in line with Azriel’s eyes, and smiled again.

“My name is Y/n,” you informed him, holding out a hand.

“Azriel,” the shadowsinger replied, reaching out and allowing you to shake his finger. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

You glowed again, brighter than last time, and flittered backwards. Azriel wasn’t sure why he was making you so flustered, but something in him enjoyed it immensely. Azriel waited for you to answer, raising an eyebrow and watching you stumble over your words.

“I – uh… well, your gems were shiny, and I like shiny things,” you got out, and Azriel grinned lazily at you, causing your fluttering wings to stutter, dropping you an inch before you regained your flight.

While Azriel would have loved to talk to you for longer, make you glow brighter and get your wings to skip a few more beats, he had a job to do. The longer he stayed here with you, the further away the Illyrian brutes got.

“Which way did you say the Illyrians went?” Azriel inquired.

Your smile dropped slightly in disappointment, but it was gone after a second as you pointed to one of the many trees. 

“They climbed the trees,” you provided. “They knew they couldn’t fly, because someone might see them or hear their wing-beats, so they decided to jump between the trees.”

Azriel looked closely at the branches that you had gestured to, but he couldn’t see anything. Nothing to suggest that what you were saying was true. He couldn’t even scent the males.

“How do you know this?” Azriel questioned.

You cocked your small head at him. “The trees told me.”

“The trees?” Azriel echoed, and you nodded.

“Don’t you hear their song?” you asked. “Don’t you hear them singing to each other, hear the branches offering a rhythm as they creak and the leaves adding a melody as the wind rushes through them?”

“Unfortunately not,” Azriel hummed, looking at the trees in question. “But thank you for your help, Y/n.”

You beamed as he said your name, and Azriel felt some amount of pride that he had been able to make your face light up like that.

“You are welcome, Azriel,” you twinkled. “I hope to see you again soon.”

“As do I,” the shadowsinger replied.

You hesitated a moment before flying forward and kissing Azriel on the nose, the feeling a soft brush against his skin. Against his will, Azriel felt his cheeks heat up a bit, and you smiled at him one last time before turning around and sailing away on a pine-scented wind. Azriel’s gaze followed you until you disappeared from his sight, and a small smile bloomed on his mouth.

AZRIEL TAGLIST:  @ruleroftides​

[ruruumin]

past life.

₊˚ ᗢ kazuha x gn! reader.

⤷ i met you once before, in my previous life.

He was a peasant, and you were a noble. 

Working in the fields, he brushes the back of his hand against his sweating forehead. A few dribbled down his neck and past his short ponytail. His crops were beginning to struggle this year due to the harsh conditions. Winds and thunder were ever the more prominent as the Shogun continued her long reign. He was starting to find his life rather difficult to live through. If he wasn’t fighting against the overbearing heat, he would be fighting his growling stomach.

His younger brother was too small to help in the fields, his mother had fallen ill, and his father was in town, trying to find him a suitor. He was at the age at which he needed to get married to secure a financially stable future. However, it wasn’t easy. It was rather difficult for the past couple of days for his father, who has yet to come to terms with the fact that no one would want to marry a poor farmer. 

He sighs under his breath, continuing to plow the soaked fields. He doesn’t want to get married to just anyone. He dreamt that they would be like a free bird, someone who would like to explore the rest of Inazuma with him. Enter the courtyards, clap their hands, wish for a good harvest during New Year, and eat freshly prepared salted fish at a restaurant. 

He hardly had any time to himself. Very little time to go into town and leisure around. Nevertheless, he found at least a small minute to admire the way the sun would set behind mountain tops. Had he been given a blessing by his Archon, he might have been able to settle in a new house with a perfect view of its orange rays. It would have been a nice thought to have come to life. 

Bells and chimes rang as a carriage was pulled across the open roads. Kazuha squints his eyes as he raises his hand, shielding himself from the burning heat. It wasn’t common for small nobles to stop by his farm. It had always been slightly secluded enough for them to unravel and admire the open plains. 

He presses his lips together as he begins to worry. Just as it wasn’t unordinary for nobles to stop by, they oftentimes stared at him like an animal on display, for the wealthy never bat an eye to those lesser. He tilts his head downwards in shame, trying to draw his eyes away from the door opening. 

You step down with your servant, pulling out a parasol as you stared off into the distant skies. Men surrounded your carriage to take care of the horses, feeding them and patting them down. You couldn’t help but feel a little exhausted despite riding in a cart. Noise surrounded you like buzzing flies. People crowded around you with proposals. You only wish to swat them away. 

Ignoring your servant's calls, you walk along the fields, feeling the tall grass brush against the fabric of your clothes. You want to get away from all this unnecessary noise. The noise kept following you as if you were a rotten piece of meat. One that seemed oh-so desirable to the wealthy. You curse yourself for the misfortune you had. Being born into a wealthy family only meant that the voices would never leave and that you will always feel a warm breath against the back of your neck.

Clutching your parasol tightly you hold back small beads of tears at the corners of your eyes. Wiping them away with the back of your finger, you gaze at the lone farmer at the center of the field. His blond hair was tied back, his eyes too focused on weeding out the small, uneven patches which had infected his farm. You felt strange watching him. Was it wrong of you to say you felt at ease? Envious even? 

That a man such as he had the luxury of enjoying the fruits of life. To use his blessed arms for something other than decoration? He was nothing like you. He was hardworking. You deemed yourself lazy. One person worked for the good of Inazuma, the other was mere property to the gaze of nobles. One had an impact on the grasslands, while the other collected dust. 

You stifled a laugh when he struggled against a vegetable that refused to be pulled out of the ground. He was tugging with all his might and just when he was about to give up, it came out with an easy ‘pop.’ He fell to the ground, albeit with a little frustration lacing his tongue. When you let out an awfully loud laugh, his head snapped up to you. 

His eyes widen as you smile at him. A gleeful expression was written across your face, a stark contrast to the gloomy, almost bored look that you came here with. At first, he thought you were laughing at him for being unfortunate and dare he say, a sad waste in the land of eternity. However, with your rather genuine smile and sweet laugh, he couldn’t help but feel enamored by your presence. 

And it was the same for you. Your eyes were met with the beautiful sight of a man’s grin, one that seemed so true that it made your heart flutter for a moment. Years spent with people whose smiles stretched too far sent shivers down your spine and made you uneasy. Yet his was warm like the sun. It felt kind. 

The whistling of your servant broke your attention. They ran down the hill and pulled on your arm, tugging you away from the fields. You looked over your shoulder, staring at the mysterious man one last time before waving. He seemed shocked at the small gesture, but he waved goodbye to you.

You wondered if the two of you will ever meet again. 

[ceratosaurtalks]

I know my posts about my Dominican Red Mountain Boas are more popular than my Dumeril's Ground Boa posts. But still, I wanted to take a moment just to talk about this species and my experience with the Dumeril's thus far. Because I do think they're a fantastic animal to keep. Some basic information before I talk about the pros and cons of my individual; My Dumeril's ground Boa is a male and he is three years, almost four years old and only about four feet. These animals grow very slowly! But they get decently sizable. Nothing unreasonably huge, but they aren't a 'small' snake either. The one above is NOT a full sized individual, or close to a full sized individual. That being said, I do think this is probably one of the most fun sp. I've gotten into. I do have a lot of appreciation for this animal, and our interactions. Of course not every individual behaves the same, but this ones been a absolute joy to work with. I've found the Dumeril's ground boa to be one of the more inquisitive species I've kept, who actively wants to get in your business and see whats going on. I do enjoy that when I walk by this animals enclosure, this usually gets a reaction from them, where they will come out to watch me. I've noticed this individual spends a lot of time basking as well in the open, I mostly find this animal curled up on his hide and using the elevation to survey his surroundings. He also tends to move a lot, which is enjoying to watch him go about his buisness. The behavior of this animal and the temperament has been. Incredible. He's very relaxed, very laid back to handle, and prefers to climb up on the shoulder/head area where he has the most coverage under him to sit. He also tends to be much more relaxed when sitting. DGBs are terrestrial snakes- so trying to actively hold him while he's moving in your hands/arms off the ground is more like trying to keep yourself under him. Like my favorite sp. Of python, the Blood Python, this animal is incredibly clumsy and isn't the best with balancing themselves and prefer more contact under them when handling. The feeding response of my DGB has been above and beyond as well. The DGB I have has a insane feeding response, and, despite being raised on live, was able to be switched to F/T withing the first feeding coming into my collection. I have them on a diet of Quail, Chicken, Iguana links(From Reptilinks), Rat, and the occasional once-in-a-blue-moon feeder fish, and he has never rejected a meal for me. Infact, when my other specialized eaters pass a meal, he's my trashbin I feed the feeders too so they don't get wasted. Of course, your individual may vary in temperament and confidence. But this animal is extraordinarily fun to me and if you're considering something thats bigger than a Ball Python but not unreasonable, and also has a fantastic temperament? I would suggest looking into a Dumeril's ground Boa. You will need a larger enclosure for an adult Dumeril, which would be the downside of this Sp. Their heating is pretty simple, they don't like it too hot- I have my basking area set to a nice 88F, and they do well in a good range of humidity from 40-60%. I like to spike this with occasional misting, to aid with shed and to aid with the animals respiratory system. Their care is pretty simple overall, the only thing Id say you really need to look out for is overfeeding them. They have a pretty slow Metabolism and it is hard for them to shed weight. Overweight/Obese DGBs like, a lot of reptiles, can be prone to things like Fatty liver and muscle atrophy- the latter being one of the biggest and most common thing most Boas end up developing based on outdated husbandry and care. Always do your research!

[ave1dragon]

Pyrrhian religions

All Pyrrhian dragons have the Legend of the Scorching, on why dragons should be in charge over scavengers. Most Pyrrhian religions believe the tribe they're from is the first dragon tribe.

Mudwings:  

In the beginning, there was no life on Pyrrhia, no rivers, no swamps, no mud even. One day, the First Sib Group came to Pyrrhia and their Bigwings used her talons to dig rivers into the land, she used her claws to press into the ground to create the lakes, creating the swamps and mud puddles of the Mud Kingdom. The second oldest sib designed the mountain range in the middle of Pyrrhia, the third sib designed the vast desert on the other side of the mountains, the fourth sib designed the Rainforest south of the swamps, the fifth sib designed the Bay of a thousand Scales above the swamps, the sixth sib created the frosty tundra on the northern peninsula. (the legend in Darkstalker's time talked about the seventh and youngest sib who designed the canyons and ravines of the southern peninsula). The sibs then brought out the creatures of Pyrrhia, the animals and the birds, and finally the scavengers and dragons who she put in charge of Pyrrhia.  

Before the scorching, all dragons lived in groups of sibs the way the Mudwings do.  

After the scorching, the first tribe were the Mudwings who lived in groups of sibs, as the first sib group taught. Then one day, some dragons became too attached to their kids and their breeding partners and ran with them to other parts of the world, where the mud washed off their bodies and changed them into other dragons.  

While Skywing or Sandwing priests are picked from youth and specially taught, A Mudwing can choose priest as a job when they turn 6 and is trained for about two years before becoming an official priest. They do not have any special rules to follow, like not marrying, and they can be male or female. They're basically just some dragon who cleans the temple.

Mudwings believe that when a dragon dies, since the spirit has left, there is no point in preserving the body, so they just leave the body in a mud puddle for that specific purpose. Which is why the Mudwings left the bodies in the mud at the end of the first book.  

Sandwings: 

(I based this off of Octopath Traveler)

In the beginning there was only the desert and the night sky. The desert and sky eventually fell in love, and then gave birth to 8 more gods and goddesses: goddess of the sun; the god of healers; goddess of the dancers; goddess of prey and feasting; goddess of the merchants; god of learning; god of thievery; and the goddess of wars. The gods then created the different areas of Pyrrhia and the animals and dragons to live on Pyrrhia. 

After the Scorching, there was only one tribe, made of a mix of colors and abilities. One day, a dragon discovered a dead scorpion mother and her babies. The dragon then raised the baby scorpions, and in gratitude, the scorpions told her the secrets of wisdom, which she then passed on to her children, and then she became the leader of the new Sandwing tribe.  

The Sandwings have priests who are from noble families and are promised to the temple at birth. The priests must be from royal families The Priests cannot marry nor enter taverns. They live in the temple but can come and go and receive visitors. The priests are normally female but can be male.   

There is a temple and priest for every city. The temples symbolically connect heaven and earth and is viewed as the home of the sun god, who gave the Sandwings the code of laws. There is a private room where the priests leave bread and wine as an offering to the gods, and an inner chamber where the gods live, of which only Queens and high priests can visit.  Sandwings play music and leave gifts outside the temples; the gifts are then used to feed the temple workers.  

Skywings:  

In the beginning there was only the Sky and the water, no land or life had inhabited the planet yet. Then one day, the Sky created the land of Pyrrhia. First, she created the mountain range in the middle of Pyrrhia, then she created the vast desert east of the range, then the swamps and marshes between the mountains and the sea, then the rainforest southeast of the mountains, the islands that make up the tail of Pyrrhia, and the icy northern peninsula (during Darkstalker's time, the legend says then finally, the Sky created the cliffs and valleys of the southern peninsula under the desert). Then the Sky created the fish and creatures in the seas and rivers, then the plants and animals across the land of Pyrrhia; the snakes and scorpions of the desert, the swamp birds and bugs of the marshes, the birds and sloths of the rainforest, the penguins and polar bears of the icy north, and the scavengers to live all over Pyrrhia.  

The mountain range invited many animals to live in its peaks: the mountain lions and goats and the elegant birds of prey. She then observed the birds of prey and how clever they were. She turned the cleverest of these birds into dragons, the first of the dragons and the decedents of the modern Skywings.   

(This part actually comes from @wof-reworked Skywing headcanons) After the scorching, many dragons strayed from the path of the Skywings. Some dragons fell too low into the mud and it coated their scales and dulled their minds, these dragons became the Mudwings. Some dragons became infatuated with scorpions and snakes, and it made them cruel and cunning, these dragons became the Sandwings. Some dragons swam into the sea, and stayed there so long they grew gills; these Dragons became the Seawings. Some dragons flew to the rainforest, with plentiful food, and stayed there until they became used to the easier life and got lazy, these dragons became the Rainwings. Some dragons flew to the icy north, which hardened their hearts and made them arrogant, these dragons became the Icewings. Some dragons flew too long under the moons, and it gave them unheard of, unnatural powers, these dragons became the Nightwings. 

They have a priest, always female, who conducts religious rites. The priest is also a scholar, healer, teacher, and settles conflicts. The High priest, the head of the priest who lives in the Palace, is one of the highest authorities of the Sky Kingdom, second only to the Queen. The priests, unlike Sandwing priest, can get married. There is a priest for every town. 

Skywings worship the sky. They leave their dead wrapped in a silk blanket on the top of an open mountain as an offering to the Sky for seven days, so their spirit reincarnate as Skywings instead of any other kind of dragon.  

Seawings:  

(This comes from Warrior Cats)

After the Scorching, the dragons at first lived together in small groups, instead of tribes. There were no boarders and the dragons fought constantly, it was a lawless, bloody time, and many dragons died.  

One night, on the night of all three full moons, the dragons agreed to meet up on the Bay of a Thousand Scales. There was a terrible battle, and many dragons died. When the survivors awoke, they saw the spirits of their dead fellow dragons, who then told them to unite or die. The dragons united and became the first members of the Seawings. 

There is one Seawing priest for every town. The priest is always female, and is picked by the previous priests. Any female Seawing over the age of 7 can choose to try out to be a priest and learns how to interpret signs from the Seawing spirits. The Seawing priest is highly respected and is not allowed to marry.

The Seawings believe that when a dragon dies, they go to live with the other dead Seawings in the Sea of the Stars (the night sky). If the Seawings are not remembered, they will disappear, so the Seawing temples make sure to keep remembrances for all the dead Seawings in the town.

Queen Coral told the Seawings to not eat the dolphins, as they are too closely related to Seawings.  

Rainwings: 

Rainwings have never had a creation myth or gods, but do have reference for Queen Jacaranda, who was queen 2,000 years ago.  

Many moons ago, Rainwings were said to be as violent as the other tribes and fought for the throne by killing the previous queen, but then the Rainwings went through eight queens in one moon cycle. The ninth queen, Queen Jacaranda, then put a stop to the killing, saying that if we killed all the strongest smartest Rainwings, our tribe would fall apart, instead they had a series of competitions to become the next queen, such as treetop racing or camouflage 

Queen Jacaranda then had a war with the Skywings and the Mudwings. The other tribes then burned down half the rainforest and killed half of the Rainwings. After this, Queen Jacaranda put a stop to the fighting and signed a peace treaty with the other tribes. She then taught her tribe to be less violent and gave them a new set of laws about not harming another dragon.   

The laws are: Never use your venom on other dragons or animals. Do not steal any dragon's items. Do not tell a harmful lie. No Rainwing is above another, even the queen.

Rainwings do not have priests or temples like other tribes, but before the rotating queens, they had special Rainwings who were taught the stories and beliefs of Queen Jacaranda, like the bards of the Icewings. The rotating queens did not train any new Rainwing bards, so the stories were only remembered by the older Rainwings. Queen Glory is trying to bring back the Rainwing bards and their stories.

Icewings:  

In the Beginning, the Great Ice Dragon created Pyrrhia and separated it into seven distinct areas, then she created the freshwater lakes and rivers for drinking, then she created the trees and plants, then she created the animals and placed them based on their environments, she created the scavengers and gave them the entire continent, finally, she created the dragons and gave them the best area, the frozen tundra of the north that would eventually become the Ice Kingdom. The Great Ice Dragon even gave the dragons the give of animus dragons, a dragon with rare but incredible magic that was passed down in a family. The animus was made the first Icewing Queen.  

After the Scorching, all dragons were IceWings, but then one day, some of the IceWings were led astray by the Snow Monsters and were then chased out of the Ice Kingdom, eventually becoming the other dragon tribes, which is why some other tribes have animi, but the IceWings are the only ones to know how to use it. To keep her tribe safe, the first animus created the Great Ice Cliff, to keep the traitors out. 

Icewings don't have priests, the temples are maintained by volunteers. They instead have bards, who are picked based on a dragon's memorizing and presenting skills and travel from village to village telling stories of the Great Ice Dragon and Icewing heroes.

Icewings worship the Great Ice Dragon and have temples for her. The temples have food so even a hungry dragon with no money can get fed. They also believe in Ice spirits, which are the ghosts of dead dragons who live in our world, invisible to dragons. They belief the Auroura borealis is the Ice Dragons frost breath. Icewings also believe in Snow monsters, who are evil spirits bent on harm.   

Nightwings:  

At first their was only the Three Moons: Oracle, the smallest, Perception, the brightest, and Imperial, the largest and wisest of the three. The Moons created Pyrrhia and the plants and animals on it. The Moons then created the scavengers and dragons, the scavengers lived in the day, and the dragons lived in the night.

After the Scorching, the Moons gave some of the dragons the gift of mindreading and future seeing. The Moons explained this was a special power that came from their light, so only eggs hatched under the full moons could receive their power. To remind them to thank the moons, as this is where their powers came from, the dragons were instructed to stay awake at night and hatch their eggs in the moonlight on top of the highest peaks.

Some dragons, however, decided to ignore the Moons and not praise them for their powers. To punish them, the Moons changed their sleep cycles so they would be awake during the day, causing them to loose their powers. The day dragons then ran away in shame to the rest of Pyrrhia, and became the other tribes.

Many Nightwing scholors believe the creation myth is exaggerated, at the very least.

Post-Darkstalker:

The only scroll the Nightwings had on the volcano about their old religion is "Tales of the Nightwings," which has more stories aside from Comet's tale about the Three Moons and the Nightwing heroes. The Nightwings spread this scroll all around Pyrrhia as Nightwing propaganda. This scroll became so popular that many non Nightwings on Pyrrhia use the expression "Three Moons!" The Nightwings themselves use this scroll as a study guide on old believes and stories for dragonets. They do teach their dragons the names of the Three Moons.

They did not have any priests or temples, as those would have been hard to build on the island.

Recently, Renewal has also found an island temple dedicated to the moons as well as one dedicated to the first librarians who wrote down the knowledge of the Nightwings.

Pre-Darkstalker:

The Nightwings in Darkstalker's time had some superstitious, such as the belief that Nightwing eggs must hatch in the moonlight on top of the highest peaks.

The Nightwings had more religious texts then just Tales of the Nightwings. They also had How the Moons Created Pyrrhia, Great Nightwing Heroes, and The Fantastical History of the Night Kingdom.

As the old Night Kingdom was small, they only had one temple, on an island, dedicated to both the Moons and the Nightwing heroes.

The priests were strong seers who would tell the future of the individual Nightwings. They would tell a Nightwing who to marry and which career path to choose. It was frowned upon to not follow the seer's visions.

Nightwings had a full moon festival, honoring the gifts of the Nightwing tribe. The Full Moon festival had traditional Nightwing music played by orchestras and also amateur musicians, and the mind readers reading the minds of the Nightwings and future seers seeing the future of the tribe.

Queen Vigilance build another island temple to honor the first librarians, as she believed that the dragons who risked their lives to write down the knowledge of the Nightwings should be honored as well as the Moons.

[logicalabsurdity]

I have the power of Stud.io and anime on my side, and what do I do? Make sad dioramas about the origin story of my OCs.

###

Several hundred years before the Great Cataclysm, Lhilari was a Matoran of Ice living on the Southern Continent. Her Ko-Koro was a relatively isolated village, nestled in the crags of a western mountain range, and Lhilari was one of the traders, sent down to the warm foothills to barter for news and supplies.

Lhilari's duty brought her to cross paths many times with one of the local wandering Toa, a Toa of the Green called Garenix. They did not often spend much time together, but they became familiar faces to each other; Garenix always had a brief smile for her, even as he seemed to draw away from everyone and spent more time on the move. He particularly enjoyed when Lhilari brought him samples of hardy mountain mosses, and when Garenix did stop for a rare rest in one of the villages, he told Lhilari all he knew of local plants' beneficial or dangerous properties.

Perhaps it was that mentorship, as inconstant as it was, that was why Lhilari found him on the mountain path.

#

It was the harsh breathing that caught her attention. Harsh, but shallow; someone trying desperately to avoid notice, but in too much pain to succeed.

Lhilari's hand tensed around the handle of her spear. Toa Garenix had come through only last month, following up on the unusually aggressive Rahi and confirming they had calmed; the road was supposed to be safe again, especially this close to home. Had he missed something? Had something been hiding, waiting to pounce once enough silent nights had gone by that the Matoran grew calm again?

She crept forward up the path, eyeing every rock and tree, ready to lunge at the first sign of movement. It was early for a nocturnal Rahi to strike, the sky still shading down from blue to black, but...

It wasn't a Rahi she found, and it wasn't a victim of one. Hidden crouched behind a boulder she found Toa Garenix, one hand pressing heavily on his leaf-bladed broadsword as if it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing fully to the packed earth. A thick hilt protruded from his chest above his heartlight, and blood pooled by his knees and other hand.

Lhilari dropped her spear and rushed forward. "Toa! Toa Garenix, what happened--"

He raised his head to meet her eyes, and his bleak expression stopped her cold. "Little sister," he sighed. His face twitched in a faint smile.

"Toa-- Toa, you're--"

Toa Garenix glanced down at the shortsword in his chest. "Yes," he said. "I am sorry."

The blade was the only thing keeping him from bleeding out entirely. Lhilari twitched forward, then brought her hands to her head instead. "I can get help. Ko-Koro is only--"

"No," he said, and coughed wetly. "No. There is-- no time. I am out of time."

"The Turaga can-- can freeze it shut, I know he can, anything for our Toa--"

Toa Garenix shook his head. "Poison," he said. "I am beyond help, little sister."

Lhilari pressed her hands to her Matatu and shook her head. "No, no, there must be something-- you can't die, you're our Toa, you're everyone's Toa--" She pointed desperately at a berry bush that she knew did something but couldn't remember what. "Can that--?"

His smile was almost pitying. "I am sorry."

She stared at him, fury and despair warring in her. "Please. There has to be something I can do. You're--" Her voice cracked. "You're the only Toa I've ever known."

He closed his eyes for a long moment. He seemed to sag, and Lhilari jerked forward, ready to catch him, before his resigned gaze caught her again. "Bring me a stone," he said. "The first fist-sized stone you find."

Lhilari nodded sharply and bolted. She snatched her spear from the ground and didn't bother to search for a rock of the right size, just swung at a nearby outcropping with all her helpless rage until a chunk came off. She'd have to apologize to the Captain of the Guard for such an abuse of a weapon, but-- that was later. Now, her Toa was dying.

Toa Garenix looked somehow even worse. The pool of blood had grown, perhaps because he had moved to reach for her with his left hand. "Give it to me," he said.

Lhilari clutched it to her chest instead. "Who did this to you?" she demanded.

"They are..." He took a shuddering breath and shook his head. "Do not seek them out. Do not... follow my path. Give me the stone."

"Was it Dark Hunters?"

"Sister," he said sternly. The stone grew heavy in her hands as he stared her down. "Please. Do as I ask."

The faint glow of his Garai was more obvious in the dying light. Lhilari huffed and stepped forward to hand over the stone. "Are they a danger to the villages?"

Toa Garenix didn't take the stone from her, just laid his hand over it. His breathing hitched unevenly, his chest heaving. "No. They got... what they... came for."

He shuddered, then, his hand clamping around the stone, as an energy buzzed through it that made Lhilari jerk her hand away. Then he collapsed, his sword falling hilt-first to land next to Lhilari, the stone glowing a verdant green through his fingers.

"Toa Garenix!" Lhilari dropped to her knees and reached for him. "No, no no no, please--"

"Your Turaga... will know.... what to do," he whispered. "Use... the power... well, sister. Do not... avenge..."

"Please, I can't-- you have to teach me--"

He met her eyes and smiled one last time. "Farewell... Toa... Lhilari..."

The light of his green eyes faded as his head dropped, leaving only the glow of the stone. Lhilari clutched her head and sobbed.

#

It was nearly full dark by the time she returned to the village. The leaf-bladed sword, taller than she was, scraped in the dirt no matter how she carried it, but it was the glowing stone that truly weighed on her.

The guard on duty stopped her when they saw the giant sword. "Where is Toa--"

"I must see the Turaga," Lhilari interrupted. "Now."

She couldn't say it. She had to explain, but she couldn't. The guard didn't try to make her, just waved her through, and Lhilari took her burden to the Turaga's hut.

He didn't say anything, just looked at her for a long moment. Then he took the broadsword from her, leaned it carefully against one wall, and took her free hand to squeeze it.

"He's--" The words caught in her throat. "I'm--"

Her Turaga touched her other hand, the one clutching the stone, and nodded. "Do you know what you must do?"

Lhilari shook her head. "You do. He. He said, you do."

"Where is he?"

Lhilari kept her eyes fixedly open, staring at the blue-white crystals in the ceiling of the hut. "Down the path. Not far."

He squeezed her hand again. "Come with me."

She went where her Turaga took her, through a secret door and down the hidden steps, cool white lightstones marking the way. He brought her to the door of a room holding nothing but a small shrine, then stopped, and lead her to a stone bench just outside it.

"Lhilari," he said softly. "Do you know what Toa Garenix asked you to do?"

She flinched. "No," she lied.

Her Turaga pressed her to sit down, then sat beside her. "You need not take up the mantle now. We have lived without a Toa before; we can again."

Lhilari stared at the green stone still in her hands. At the Toa Stone, that their Toa had given her instead of allowing her to even look at his wounds. She stared at it, and felt the power humming beneath its surface, and said nothing.

"Toa die so Matoran can live," her Turaga said softly. "If we live long enough, we cease to be Toa, but we never cease to be protectors."

"I couldn't do anything," she whispered. "He-- he wouldn't let me do anything. I-- I thought we were friends."

"Would he have entrusted you with this otherwise?"

She closed her eyes tightly. The bloody blade protruding from his back intruded on her mind, the pool that spread under him as she wept and he remained still. "He told me not to avenge him."

"That is not the way of a Toa," her Turaga murmured.

"I-- I can't-- what else am I supposed to do?" Her voice rose into a wail. "I'm not him! I can't be him!"

"Be you," her Turaga said. "Be you, and do what you can."

Later, she would. Later, with new strength in body and soul, she would lay their old Toa to rest. Later, she would learn how to be a Toa under the tutelage of her Turaga. Later, she would put the mystery of who had killed their Toa to the back of her mind, to be forgotten almost entirely over the next three centuries of wandering the continent. Later, she would mentor new Toa herself in a world gone mad.

Now, she curled around the Toa Stone Garenix had poured his life into and cried.

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