#artic tundra

[domono08]

A redesign of my fox secret agent, Tundra! Now She’s biotechnology born Arctic fox who can contort her spider like body while fighting crime!

[dndtreasury]

Tundra Titan by Mithral Canvas

[just-a-we1rd0]

Big tundra guy :)

The Malook is an extremely large tundra-dwelling species, traveling alone or in small bachelor or bachelorette herds when young. They are rather calm, however if provoked they will ram their horns into attackers in attempts to fling them, instantly killing them. Predators such as murder swans will never attack and adult Malook, however will sometimes go after their babies. Every few years in the months of summer, males and females will find a large area and find mates. Females will raise babies until they are grown, which can be up to 10 years.

[justicebled]

WHICH RAGE LANGUAGE ARE YOU .

MEN, RAISE THE DRAWBRIDGE.

when you're angry, all your defenses go up. the unfortunate person or thing that managed to piss you off is suddenly talking to a wall. On the inside, you're screaming and cussing them out, but somehow you can't express it. you're blank. emotionless. to anyone's knowledge, you could be zoning out of a lecture. because of this, it's hard to express how you're feeling when the person asks for your thoughts. you've choked your feelings down, and they won't come back up.

stolen from: @iirvings whoopsie!

[maehemthemisfit]

If toman Mikey couldn't sleep without the towel/blanket thing (it's in the manga), KM and Bonten Mikey most likely couldn't sleep without your KM coat or blazer. It's really difficult to persuade Mikey to give your coat or blazer back though...

He for real has a death grip on it, there's no getting it away from him when he's asleep. You only know this because you tried and faced the consequences.

It was supposed to be an in and out type of thing. Infiltrate Mikey's room when he's sleep, slip what's yours out of his grasp, and swiftly exit- all without waking him up. Simple right?

Absolutely not.

Getting into his room was easy, Step two on the other hand...

At this point, was it even worth it?

A small seed of doubt sprouted from your mind, growing effortlessly the longer you stared at Mikey who was currently sleeping soundly. Watered by worries, Its dreadful vines expanded, snaking around your neck and restricting your arm from grabbing your jacket that was tucked against his chest.

Victory was literally at your fingertips yet you froze, hesitation holding you in place.

So what changed? What happened? What made you question the absurdity of your plan as if the situation didn't call for it?

This was getting out of hand, you reminded yourself. Your blazers disappeared left and right only to find them in Mikey's room weeks later. Sometimes he returned them, uttering something along the lines of "Not working anymore", just for him to steal another one.

At first you didn't perceive it to be a problem, thinking he'd eventually grow out of the habit soon, but you were wrong. It went from maybe one or two blazers, to three flannels, to a few jackets, and even your gang uniform. Such a simple predicament became a bigger conflict when the weather took a dive and you found yourself freezing your arms off in the mornings.

You had to put a stop to this. You had to. So why now of all times you stood as if you were stoned by Medusa's gaze? Perhaps it was because he looked so... different.

Over the years of knowing Mikey, you'd watch him deteriorate into something more formidable. His expression hardened, gaze colder than the artic tundra, and his voice held an edge to it, dangerously monotone yet laced with a hint of venom.

You watched him exhaust himself everyday, greeting you more tired than the day before, eyes holding more baggage than they could carry despite knowing he could be a heavy sleeper. You figured he was becoming restless.

You half expected him to be awake when you entered his room, but you were met with a completely different sight.

He looked more at ease than you expected, his features relaxed yet idyllic in a way. His bottom lip was tucked under his front, his pretty lashes reaching out to hug you. Strands cascaded down his face and you willed yourself not to dip your hands into the pool of his hair.

The rise and fall that accompanied each breath was slow and steady as he sighed into your uniform. You didn't want to disrupt the fragile harmony created in your sleepless night.

Despite the urge to abandon your mission, your eyes spotted one of your jackets unguarded and draped across his hip.

Surely, you thought, a sliver of hope of not going back empty handed finally pulled the seed of doubt from your mind.

You reached, fingers hooking around the sleeve of your jacket, and every so carefully tugged as slowly as you could. It was so easy, so simple, so-

"Hhn-?!?"

You muffled a yell just as you were pulled down, covers, hands, and even legs entangling you as you fell against the bed. You could only blink in disbelief as you tried to process what the hell happened. One moment you were standing, and the next you were bundled in a mix of fabric and limbs.

You were facing Mikey, who still looked sound asleep just as he was before. There was no way he was he actually still asleep... right?

Minuets passed as you stared in fear like a pray in the jaws of a predator, heart racing from proximity and the possibility of Mikey waking up. Every second felt miniscule and tantalizing.

You took a breath, opting to turn away in hopes of slipping away, but his grasp only tightened, pulling you further against his chest and nuzzling his face into your neck.

He groaned, murmuring something in his dreamlike state along the lines of "no" and "don't go". He was tense for a moment yet he relaxed the longer he breathed in your scent, each puff sending a tickle down your spine.

Well fuck, you sighed, realizing you were trapped. This is why we listen to our guts and opt out.

You have no idea how you're gonna explain this when he wakes up, but you guess that's a problem future you would have to deal with.

Your eyes blinked closed. Oh well, at least you were warm and comfortable.

꒰⚘݄꒱₊YANDERE CHRONICLES : ♡ ⤹ ぃ

[ravenxvamp]

Chapter 1: Colter

Unedited

1899 Current Location: Somewhere In Grizzlies West, Ambarino

'A Dangerous Winter Wonder Land'

White was the colour that covered the vast misty mountaintop of the terrain that we travelled in. The wind howled and roared around us dangerously like a predator hunting its injured prey lurking viciously in the thick icy haze waiting to attack and feast on our soft, weak, and debilitated flesh. We held our clothes tight but each other tighter to protect our feeble bodies from the frosty weather hitting us in the faces like a shot to the head with a rusty bullet. I feel my fingers numb as I try to blow on them to stop the sharp knife-stabbing tingling coming from my frost-bitten nerve endings as my body transferred heat to my essential organs to try and survive this weather but it only made my lips dry and crack and the sensation in my now purple fingers worsen.

I painfully listened to the horses' cries out into the 'everlasting void' as the snow melted into their once-warm fur coats as they pushed forward carrying what seemed like the whole world on their backs as they pulled the ancient decaying wagons through the 6-inch snowy blanket that laid comfortably on top of the earthy floor, with another loud agitated sequel they pushed on with only the amber lighting from the lanterns to guide their innocent pure eyes. The void would be the only word to describe this area of abandoned mountain range although it was as white as a Christmas night, snow was all that covered this land along with a couple of twisted, withered, depressed trees that seemed to have disturbing soulless faces seemed to be carved into their bark like they were once wanderers that had once tried to escape the wrath of the storm like ourselves but that could just be a mirage created by the heartless blizzard on my restless eyes. Sleep was the one thing everyone needed right now if the blizzard didn't get us now then exhaustion or starvation will. Everyone had it rough right now if you could only see us now we'd probably all look like the Walking Dead as there wasn't one person in the gang whose face wasn't zombified with exhaustion.

The men had it the hardest being tasked with scouting and hunting in this lethal weather, I could not even move without being disturbed and rattled awake by the harsh weather conditions so I couldn't even begin to imagine being sent off alone into the unknown. It was almost like sending a man to his death, a death so slow and so painful that in your last moments, you'll be singing like a siren with a gleeful glow in your pitiful child-like eyes happy the artic torment is over looking up at the white overcast as you draw your final breath. Nonetheless, I trust that Dutch knew what he was doing despite the 'rumours' about that girl on the ferry and the Pinkertons in Blackwater and how he lost his mind and slipped into the everlasting depths of insanity that slowly rot your brain until you're trapped in your mind, I could it was still fresh in everyone's memories just by looking around you could tell they were starting to question Dutch's intentions.

My three thick layers of clothing seemed to do nothing against the war that swarmed and spiralled around us, I felt naked as if my 'womanhood' was on show for the whole mountain range to see. I was starting to lose hope as was everyone else of ever getting out of the winter wonderland hell hole,

"Still a got your head in that journal of yours I see"

I flinch at the sudden deep buttery southern accent and quickly slam my journal shut causing a small gust of wind to hit me in my painfully rosy cheeks, it seemed like I had gotten to lost in the moment again and started writing like a mad woman, embarrassed I look over at the hunky cowboy riding next to the wagon as we travel through the tundra. He had that stupid smirk painted on his face as he just seemed to love antagonising me in sickness and health he was there just to harass me and make me miserable,

"Arthur, what are you doing here?"

I say holding a firm tone but the excitement in my voice was undeniable as I had been quite lonely the past couple of days thirsting for a real conversation with somebody that wasn't about starvation or the chilling cold. Arthur knew just how to lighten up the mood of any room he stepped into and he knew just how to cheer me up as well as making my cheeks flush an erubescent colour with this sheepish look in his eyes like ima' big juicy stake ready to be eaten. There had always been some undeniable sexual tension since I had the pleasure of meeting such a man but it's yet to be discussed so for now it just lurks in the cosy aura I feel when I'm around him and I know he feels it too. I stick my head out of the wagon and look ahead to see if Dutch has noticed him slip away from his duty, "And says you," I say as I degrade him as he smugly rode beside me "I sometimes forget what you look like Mister Morgan" I say with a big smirk on my face, he let out a deep stomach chuckle and then shook his head in defeat, that rough rugged manly laugh always erupted something feral inside of me and filled my stomach with butterflies and made my head all dizzy like one of them damsels in Mary-Beth's silly story books and made certain parts of my body eager, "Fair Enough" he spoke with a sigh as he brought his hands up to his face and blew hot air from his chapped lips into his gloves and proceed to rub his upper arms.

"So, how are you holding up?" verbalizing his concern that had been eating him up from the inside, he didn't have to tell me this it was written all over his face "I heard that you got hurt in Blackwater and I just..." he trips over his own words like a newborn fawn struggling to stand for the first as he struggles to find the right way to make his true emotions and intimate thoughts known this was one of the great Arthur Morgans weakness, the gunslinger was so more complicated under the surface if only the Pinkerton's could see him now, "Wanted to see if you were okay," he says in a near whisper scratching the back of his neck I knew he felt guilty for not being there for me but also for Sean, Jenny, and Mac "I'm fine Arthur really I am" his gaze moved towards my injured leg which had been poorly banged with small dark red blood droplets seeping through the loose material and imperfectly covered by the fur on my boots his eyes glistening with regret as he quickly looks back up to me almost like he was looking into the sun "If only I was-" he goes to drown himself in sorrow and pity but I cut him off before he can utter out another miserable word "If nothing," I speak with a powerful tone in hopes he would show attentiveness to my words "You didn't know what was going to happen in Blackwater so there's no point in beating yourself up over something you had no control over" The wrinkles on his face only seemed to intensify as he tried to process the words that I had spoken with an honest tongue "All them' deaths ain't your fault there on Micah, that ferry job was a curse from the start" Arthur's face visible twisted with disgust at the mere mention of that snake's name.

"I know" his words spat venom towards the 'man' if you could need to call such a person a man but also his words had hits of exhaustion laced within two simple words as the last six months Micah had been riding with us have been hell, "I guess I just wished it would have gone down differently" he sighed once more still despite my words still beating himself up over it "Listen we don't even know if Mac and Sean are dead they could have got away, Sean is a slippery Irish bastard and Mac well... he's well Mac, he's gotten himself out of worse" Everyone knew Mac was definitely a peculiar character he was or is vicious, short-tempered most importantly wild probably the most out of control man I've ever met, well him and Davey.

I watch as his tense shoulders relax a bit at my words, I think he knew this deep down but just wanted to hear someone else tell him that it was going to be okay and that we were safe. Arthur would never admit this but he needed validation, he needed security, and despite his cold and hard demeanour behind it all was a soft and gentle man but years of being surrounded by violence had made him sour and bitter, at least that's how he acts on the outside. There was a war going on in his mind that he couldn't escape from as he constantly battles his own nature but man is a part of nature, and his war against nature is inevitably a war against himself and he's losing, he has been for some time now.

We rode in comfortable silence as the frigid crystallised wind blew its harmonic tune around us causing our teeth to chatter in unison, I could feel him glancing at me now and again it was clear by his eyes burning into the back of my skull that he wanted to talk to me again but soon the building tension was sliced in half by a booming voice shouting over the artic storm,

"Arthur, get over here now!"

Dutch's sudden commanding voice almost made Arthur jump right off of his saddle he looked at me again his deep blue eyes twinkled like he had wanted to say something but he just tipped his gambler hat at me and gave me a cheeky wink making me blush before kicking his stirrups into the side of his horse and taking off ahead beyond which my eyes could longingly ponder fondly leaving me in an unpleasant silence and left an excruciating feeling in my chest that burned with admiration and blazing adoration for the simple cowboy.

After what felt like centuries of roaming this empty plane like the undead, Arthur under Dutch's request had gone out and found us an old abandoned mining town for us to camp out in just for a 'little while' to let Davey 'rest' Dutch had said but I think he knew just like the rest of us by looking at his red and pale sickly complexion that he might not make it another mile let alone another trot as his gasping for air got louder and louder and the cold temperature outside was not helping his lungs. Despite the rickety and decaying structure and the overall haunted aura the buildings had due to its emptiness, it brought me a feeling of warmth by just gazing upon its comforting wooden 'castle walls' As we slowly approached the deserted town more and more buildings became apparent to my vision I could already see the home we'd make out of this train wreck.

As the wagon came to a staggering halt as we approached one of the uninhabited cabins which surprised me that the wheels hadn't frozen over yet as the wood seemed to have been stained and chipped with a transparent glaciality blue, I eagerly but carefully jumped into the snow the fluffy blanket of ice trying to put to much pressure onto my injury as I did so, it reached halfway up to my knees my fur boots doing a good job a protecting my toes and legs from the snow that dared to melt through. I quickly grabbed the essentials like blankets, cans of food, and extra clothing as Ms Grimshaw and Dutch shouted at us like sheep and like

shepherds ushering us all into the run-down cabin so that everyone could get warm. It was no unsolvable mystery that hopes and the overall mood of the gang were low, lower than I'd ever seen, we had only just managed to slip out of Blackwater but it didn't come without the cost of Jenny, Mac, Sean and Davey who was currently being carried in by Arthur and Bill. His arms lifelessly dangling like a loose thread on an old cardigan but stiff like he was made from stone, if it wasn't clear to us before it was clear now that Davey had died in the storm it was clear now, with pale white and red skin with a blueish purple tingle and his eyeballs that seemed to drift away each other and his mouth seemed to be glued open like he had just broken his jaw.

Abigail approached the blue stone man who had been laid mummified on the table, she placed two gentle fingers to his neck checking and hoping for a pulse but when her blue eyes dulled to sombre inky grey everyone knew what she was about to say,

"Davey's dead."

Those were the two words people didn't want to hear right now, as of two seconds ago I didn't think that the gang could hint lower than this rock bottom but it seemed as of now doom and gloom was becoming the new norm. The gang desperately needed some inspiration to keep going so that we didn't have to dig any more graves than two and needed someone to give them hope, hope that they would die on some cursed frozen mountain in the Grizzlies. Bickering then erupted among everyone mostly about food, supplies and words of comfort towards Abigail as she fought so hard to help Davey make it out of this nightmare alive, I haven't known Abigail for long but she and Davey seemed close. I stood holding myself trying to stay warm, though we were inside my body still needed time to warm up from that whole mess outside.

My gaze then left the gang tired of listening to the same words getting repeated like a broken record player and I looked over at Arthur he looked like a mess but a beautiful mess, his hair seemed to want to escape from his scalp flowing in all different directions waving and spinning like royal swan ballet dancers but this was all hid underneath his hat. His gorgeous hazel eyes though glazed with sorrow as he looked over at Davey like everyone else he watched as they placed coins over his and shook his head. His focus shifted back to Dutch as he turned his head, I obsessively fixated on his sharp jaw and how his beard perfectly hugged his face tightly it made me secretly bite my lip.

"Listen... listen to me all of you, for a moment "

Dutch had cleared his throat before he had begun to speak in a grieving, but assertive tone to draw everyone's attention to him, he took a deep breath as he looked around at our famished, depressed, exhausted faces before he began speaking, "now, I know we've had a bad couple of days" he pause for a second to take a breath to stop himself from getting emotional at his ex-gunner recent demise "I loved Davey..." his tone changed to one laced with regret and grief you could tell the deaths had really gotten to him, "Jenny..." he continued and as he continued he began to speak more clearly and less emotional as he knew he needed to be strong to help the gang lift themselves back up and proceeded with his speech "Mac, Sean... they may be okay we don't know" though he wasn't sure if the two were alive he spoke of them like they could walk through the cabin door behind him at this very moment but still keep it serious tone as we didn't need to get our hopes up only for them to be brought down by the news that Mac and Sean had been killed. "But we lost some folks... now if I could, though myself in their stead..." he used hand gestures to exaggerate and emphasise what he was say into the truth "I'd do it... gladly" he looked around at us and his eyes meet with Arthur's for a second and he nodded at him in agreement, "but... we are going to ride out and find some food" he pointed towards outside "everybody, we're safe now. There ain't nobody following after us in that storm" slowly everyone's face began to light up, not that Dutch had singled handedly erased the sadness and gloom from our brains it just left nice to know that we'd be safe it was nice to have security for once "by the time they figure out we're here, we'll be long gone" his voice got high and more confident "now all of you get warm, and stay strong. Stay with me" if you were a wanderer and just so happened to walk passed this cabin you would of thought he was hyping up a mob "we ain't done yet!" he said as he proceeded to walk towards the door with Arthur disappearing into the snowy mist.

New camp meant a whole lot of work had to be done to get things up and running again, luckily for me due to my leg injury I had been excused from working and got to snuggle up to the fire enjoying its warm comforting embrace while I get to avoid Ms Grimshaw's wrath unlike the other poor souls who's cry's I just drink right up like a fine wine as I watch them run around like busy worker bees but despite everything going on around me there was no room in my brain to care about think about anyone other than Arthur. I was worried sick as I watched the blizzard outside grow stronger and stronger my stomach began to twist in a vile sickly way but other than that I was enjoying relaxing for once,

"Oh [NAME], get your head out of that silly journal for one-second girly I need to talk to you"

Or so I thought... "yes Ms Grimshaw? what is it that you need?" I tried my best not to sound annoyed as I was having such a good time like the little sadist I was listening to the other's complaints about their labour and now I thought god was punishing me for having such impure thoughts, "I wanted to talk to you about your living arrangements" I raised and slightly tilted my head at the older woman "what do you mean?" she scoffed and rolled her eyes like I was stupid before grabbing me with her aged hands hard enough to leave some minor bruising but I didn't think that was intentional and pulled me into a more secluded area of the cabin tucked away in a corner and away from the cosy fame I had just been sitting peacefully in.

"Will you and Mister Morgan be sharing sleeping arrangements?" This question caught me off guard causing my mouth to open slightly with shock and my cheeks flared up an embarrassing bright rosy red like I had just eaten something spicy so red in fact that there may as well be smoke coming out of my ears "What on earth do you mean Ms Grimshaw?" I said move defensively then I would of hopped, she again rolled her eyes but with a bit more flamboyancy and irritation this time and with a bitch smacked look on her face with injunction strained in her voice she proceeded to say "don't play coy with me, girl," pointing her wrinkled finger at my chest like a mother scolding her child "you know better then to rile me up, you know damn well what I'm talking about!" I of course one hundred per cent knew that she was referencing mine and Arthur's relationship status at the moment.

The question alone had left me feeling flustered that other people thought me and Arthur were something more than we actually were. Hidden sexual and romantic interactions like teenager star-crossed lovers who only just found out that relationships can consist of more than just sloppy kisses were not rare in fact, they were so common people started thinking we were sweet on each other. If I could explain our current relationship in two words it would be 'business transaction' we had become so needy and thirsty like animals in heat we found each other for the first time in a time of luscious sorrow both being without partners for so long and whisky is a horrific combination for two lost heartbroken souls, Mary didn't want him and my love had passed. Ever since then, we have had this strange relationship where feelings weren't supposed to be felt between the two it was supposed to be purely lustful but liquor is a sober man's poison and Arthur has never been able to hold his drink or maybe he was too much of a gentleman to use a woman in such ways I guess I'll never know.

"Are you just going to stare at me like I'm stupid or are you going to answer me woman?" when I realised I was all up in my own little world again I tuned back into the single more terrifying expression that Ms Grimshaw just the look of the tint of impatientness in her eye made me want to jump out of my skin and run away with my tail tucked in between my legs like some skittish little street dog "It's hard to say... well, begin to say what we are" Ms Grimshaw still not amused by my flustered reluctance on my current relationship status huffed with annoyance "listen, girl if you're not going to give me a straight answer I'm just going to go on assumptions" I was going to say something to defend my hesitance, but it was too late she had waddled away throwing the cabinet door open most likely going to go work on the others sleeping arrangements.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours of pure grotesque torture my mind flashed of the 'assumptions' that vile woman Ms Grimshaw had made to make my life hell, I saw her messy bun and her elderly face peak back through the wooded door in which she had disappeared out of not too long ago, "Miss [NAME], get over her girly" she shouts over the wind and waves me over sticking half of her body inside the warm cabin, not wanting to keep her waiting I get up quickly causing some strain on my leg as I forget about its injury's and almost trip like some drunken fool as I followed her through the snow like she was a mother duck and a was a little duckling.

Ms Grimshaw led me towards one of the cabins the cosy's looking and the one with the most structural integrity at least from what I could see. It almost felt like home but home was what we make it like a homeless man would call a cardboard box a mansion if he was surrounded by people who he loved dearly. We make do with what little we have and are grateful to have each other to hold up together, a flower can't bloom without a little rain but I'd describe our situation as more of a flood.

She opened the door and warmth hit my face once again, I was great by Molly's uptight expression, not the usual snotty glare. She was standing by the fire well she wasn't doing much standing as her fingers were practically down the back of her throat like she was trying to make herself throw up after she ate something rotten. Molly jumped not expecting our company and clearly enjoying her time isolating herself from the rest of the gang like she so often likes doing, her eyes sparkled for a moment painfully obvious that she thought we were Dutch before realising we weren't she scoffed not in an arrogant way as usual but more in a disappointed manner to which Ms Grimshaw rolls her eyes at the young woman and waves me over to a room on the right.

I was shocked, to say the least, that this was one of the 'good' rooms. Paper was scattered all over the floor along with rotten floorboards that had come loose and had just been pulled out from the ground and thrown to the side like some used whore, along with that there were chunks of glass that littered the floor accompanied by some dried up leaves that had been blown in by the cold draft in addition to that there were some cool halloween decorations of tiny animal bones that looked like they belonged to a rat, there was no way one of us was going to be sleeping on that floor. Talk about sleeping arrangements the bed didn't look cosy either the mattress was all ripped and torn like it had been attacked by a bear but it looked big enough for two people though it was hard to tell with Arthur's bulky figure, "So here we are, this is where you and Mister Morgan will be staying, if you change your mind there is always a space for you in the main building" I smiled and thanked her for her assistance before she rushed out to attend to other things. She was such an amazing woman Ms Grimshaw and everyone seemed to take advantage of that or undermined her contribution to the gang, it was sad really. I lay on the bed, the mattress not being as bad as it looks it just needs some blankets and it would be perfect. I stare at the ceiling not properly being able to stop and process everything that's happened so far I start to feel drowsy until a voice breaks the silence,

"Hey everybody Dutch is back!"

I faintly heard Lenny's excited shout as my eyelids started to fall heavy but they sprang back open again and my mind immediately flickered over to Arthur.

I make my way over to the gang most of them had come out of the comfort and warm to see Dutch in hope that he'd brought back some food or something to help us survive, so there was a big penguin huddle around him and Arthur and a strawberry blonde woman who looked terrified, traumatised even she couldn't stop violently shaking like a helpless animal that had just been shot and I just knew it wasn't from the cold. If feel as if Dutch made the right decision bring her here but that was just a gut feeling and I tend to be a person who thinks with my head and not a silly feeling in my stomach. I later learned her name was Sadie Adler, poor thing had become a widow. I looked at Arthur from a distance and I could tell that he was burnt out, he had dark circles around his eyes and looked seconds away from nodding off. I wasn't really listening to Dutch speak as I was too worried about Arthur  and to be frank in this moment of time there was a vile depression swarming in my mind like a toxic black fog that made me cold and not care if we all reached the pearly gates or the fiery deeps of hell as much as I'd hate to admit it. he looked really bad like he was going to collapse any second now swaying back and forth like a drunken sailor and blinking slowly like a reptile in the desert, he was clearly in a world of his own. I waited impatiently for Dutch to stop speaking or in other words stop yapping out of respect for the old man I didn't want to ruin his amazing speech so that I could slither on over to Arthur.

"You okay cowboy?" I say as I hobble over to him and gently stroke his arm with my gloved palm moving it up and down on his cotton blue coat, oh how badly I wanted to press my soft warm virgin lips to his rough and scarred face and to hold him like a child in my feminine embrace as I run my fingers through his unkempt hair and whisper dove-like songs to him as I tell him 'it's okay' but if you haven't gotten the hint by know that wasn't how our relationship worked. He looked surprised to see me and grabbed my palm with his larger hands and gently like he was holding a rich china set moved my hand back to my sides rejecting but appreciating my touch at the same time, "you should be resting" he spoke in a straggly strained tone I found this very ironic coming from someone who had trouble keeping his eyes open "so should you" a sigh erupts from his dry cracked lips knowing he didn't go back and forth all day or too exhausted to give me lip, he gave in to me, "come on big boy, let's get you to bed" I say as my gloved hand tenderly gripped his and guided him towards the cabin. He tailed behind me like a giant puppy afraid to walk astray from its mother, it made me all warm and fuzzy inside knowing that Arthur had the strength and build of a bulky grizzly bear and the personality and charm of a cougar and could very easily over power me at any second and pull away but right now he was letting drag him through the bone chilling snow his grip on my hand was lose and soft as if he was holding onto glass, his touch though small and insignificant to those who didn't know the man but Arthur's touch spoke volume he was gentle with those who needed and rough to those who needed it but he had never been sweet with his touch it felt like an angel had came down and blessed my pure feminine hand with that of a rugged man's, like an abused street dog I didn't need him to speak as the silent language of touch alone told me that our relationship was growing into something more then a casual fling.

I help him over to the bed when we get inside the cabin his legs wobbling a bit as he goes to sit down, he lets out a long frustrated hot grunt as he throws he head back slightly revealing his Adams apple as he takes of his old dirty hat and runs his now un-gloved fingers through his hair as if he was aggressively petting a dog before his fingers traveled up to the bridge of his nose and he pitches it. With a thump he sits down on the elderly and rather uncomfortable bed, "I'm exhausted" he spoke in a worn out strained sexy voice and he really was quite a sight as of now... but much as I'd like to drool about him all day like a yearning virgin with a rotten blood red devil heart with the thick black wings of fallen hopes and the maggots of love and desire eating away at the fleshy wall that is fear and impurity, he was a real person at the end of the day a person that filled me with thoughts of lechery and complexed feelings that felt the need to be sexualised every second by some desperate lonesome woman in my mind that is me. "Would you like some help?" He didn't even have the energy to look up at me or verbally respond to my question so he just nodded, so I knelt down in front of his perfectly sculpted face. Him despite being sat down he still towered over me like a great old oak tree as one by one I pulled his boots with two great tugs, not the usual activity I get up on when I'm on my knees for him so it felt unfamiliar with the domesticity of it all but oh well, "so how was your day?" I ask standing up to assist him in taking of his coat and slinging it of his shoulders "well despite almost freezing to death, I think that... I'm just fine" he spoke with a bit of hesitance it was clear that he thought something else in that hollow head of his but I thought nothing of it and shrugged it off.

"So will you joining me anytime today Miss?" I felt my whole body flush up a red crimson, my mouth started to fill with droll, my palms started to sweat and I felt my heartbeat in my chest and somewhere else he had never been this straight forward with me before so it surprised me and also aroused me,  "I... well, you see..." I slurred over my own words my fluttered state becoming apparent to the man as he looked at me with the biggest smirk on his face laying with arms behind his head and his legs crossed with his hat back on his head again but pushed down so you couldn't see his irresistible ocean blue eyes "nah, I don't think I see why not" his smirk growing with every second my face invents a new shade of red and shuffle my feet uncomfortably like a penguin "come here' beautiful" his buttery voice was like a siren's sweet lullaby to my ears almost making me buckle and melt like ice cream under the sun. I try not to look to eager as I kick off my fluffy boots being careful not to accidentally touch or knock into my injury but I think he could tell that I was eager my the way his sleepy eyes seemed to follow me around the room and have a tint of amusement in them. I walk over to the bed and lay next to him it was awkward for awhile as we don't usually share a bed together, so I wasn't used to the beds dip to the side Arthur was laying and the way it sort of pulled me towards him like a black hole but I tried to the best of my feeble ability not to roll onto his husky chest, or the heavy breathing that he huffed like a dragon in and out of his lungs as he relaxes into the bed but still seemed uncomfortable somehow. That was until Arthur wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into his chest "I don't want you hang' off the edge to the bed there darling, hope this ain't to awkward" I guess me being uncomfortable made him uncomfortable in a weird romantic type of way it wasn't awkward at all his touch was like a beacon that light up my dark soul or the fan to fuel my fames, it actually felt nice to be held a feeling I had once long forgotten of being in the arms of someone you love and care for "not at all..." I whisper listening to his steady heartbeat like it was a song played by god himself and his angels, the warmth from his body was ecstatic and helped lull me to sleep. The last thing I remember was the faint whisper of something Arthur had said to me in my last seconds of consciousness I being think my fine moments in the 'Wild West' back in the good old' days when we weren't on the run from what seemed like the whole world and the relaxation of my muscles hit and then I started to fade away.

END NOTE

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Author's notes: I hope you enjoyed reading Until My Last Breath as much as I did writing it. Unfortunately, I am slow writer so there will be extremely slow updates but I promise you it will come out.

I'd love to know if you love the story so far and what your views on it are so don't be afraid to leave a comment.

I am planning on writing a Dutch Van Der Linde fanfic if any of you are interested please let me know.

Also, it is unedited at the moment so please if you see any mistakes point them out to me, thank you!

Thank you for reading.

[ancientorigins]

Unraveling Stone Age mysteries in the Arctic! Finnish archaeologists discover potential ancient graveyard in Lapland's frozen tundra. No bones, but plenty of clues!

[youmeanlikeolivegarden]

”What are you giving me?” he asks. His mouth is dry, and he can still taste copper. “It’s glucose,” she replies. “Your blood sugar is low.” His vision flickers, and he blinks. He knows something… something about glucose and cold. —~—~— … But did you know”—she leaned forward and tapped him on the back of the hand—“there is a type of frog in the Artic Tundra that freezes solid in winter and then thaws out in the spring and goes on living?” He put both hands flat on the table and gave an exaggerated performance of astonishment. “No kidding.” “No kidding!” She slapped her palms against the table to mirror his, then laughed. “I know you’re mocking me, but I don’t care. It’s fascinating. They raise their glucose levels enough to keep their cells from breaking down and to replace the water in their bodies.” Just finished rereading The Winter Soldier: Cold Front (for only the second time) BUT I just realized the connection between the glucose and the cyrofreeze. I don’t know if that’s what the author intended for that little detail to be but I thought that was pretty awesome. I didn’t actually notice it until near the end of the book where V (Vronsky/The Winter Soldier) is getting a glucose drip and he starts telling the nurse about that fun fact about the frogs…. Literally broke my heart. He and Gimlet truly deserved better.

[dross-the-fishs-bowl]

Adam initiating sex with shipwreck anon after she's been with him for awhile please. If you don't mind I'd like it to get kinda spicy, as explicit as you're comfortable bc I am down BAD for Adam Frankenstein.

This has been sitting since I created the fishbowl and there were a couple other "shipwrecked anon" requests that I ended up ignoring in favor of other ones so I decided to go ahead and do this one.

Rated M for sexual content.

It's very fluffy and it's not super graphic but there is a sex scene at the end

 We were sitting before the fire, Anon in my lap, nestled comfortably against my chest. It was that part of the year where winter was at its peak and there was naught but ice and darkness outside the reach of our warm little cave. I did my best to fill the days with activities and conversation to keep her spirits up. She had mourned for some time, the loss of the others on her ship and I sensed she was beginning to lose hope of being found.

Saddened thought was to see her despair, secretly I did not wish to part from her for she provided me the companionship I had craved since my birth and here, at the end of the world, it was only the two of us. The only people on earth given dominion of the seals and the musk oxen that roamed the tundra. It was not Eden; the land was too harsh and unforgiving to be considered a paradise but for me it was sufficient for I now had my mate.

Mate I did call her in my mind for she accepted my flowers when the heather bloomed, ate the food I hunted for us and now, as I wrapped our bodies in furs she partook of my warmth and laid her cheek against my breast.

I had been reserved about touching her at first, wishing not to give her cause to fear me I had restrained myself from taking anything that was not offered. Starved though I was I wanted to show her that I was benevolent. After sufficient time had passed to be assured that she would not reject me I had tentatively reached out one night to stroke her hair as it shined in the firelight. She had leaned into my touch, encouraging me to continue and I had trailed the very tips of my fingers over the curve of her cheek, the delicate shell of her ear and even, slowly, with the utmost gentleness, traced over her lips.

I had withdrawn after that, too shy to continue and to afraid that she might recoil from me in disgust. Instead, she had moved closer, reaching out her own hand to my face to explore my features. When the softness of her touch moved me to tears she had held me. I wept a lifetime of suffering into her arms that night. If it was only mutual loneliness that brought use closer I did not know or care. I had grown to need her as I needed food or sleep or breath. I knew that if she were to leave me, I would surely die.

She confided me often, treated me as her companion and after months of caring for her and protecting her from the cold harshness of the artic wastes I had grown to love her. I wished to express this to her and determine whether she returned my affection but whenever I thought to voice it my words seemed to abandon me.

Tonight, as she cuddled deeper into my arms, I wondered if I could tell her without words how I felt about her. I smoothed her hair away from her cheek and stroked the soft skin there, tilting her head up to meet my eyes. She looked up, expectantly, as though in anticipation. Did she know?...

I dipped my head down to touch her lips with mine. Her arms wound around my neck and pulled me closer. The kiss deepened, became hungrier and found myself picking her up and placing her on the pile of furs that serves as a makeshift bed. I pulled away from her mouth to draw my hand, very deliberately, down the length of her body, watching for her reaction as I caressed her through her clothing.

She arched upward into my hand. I began to work the hem of her shirt loose from her skirt so my fingers could make contact with her bare skin.

“Yes?” I breathed, stopping just short of touching her naked flesh.

“Yes,” she replied, her face flushed and to my delight I could hear the desire in her voice.

I discarded her shirt and skirt and pressed my lips to her exposed skin. I nuzzled, suckled and licked at the heat of her. She trembled and grew steadily warmer under my touch, her breath quickening when I brought my mouth up to the pulse at her throat.

She raised her legs to cradle my hips with her thighs. I hesitated, worrying the difference in our size might cause her pain. Size was not the only difference I noticed. In the firelight my eye was drawn to my thick, gnarled hand resting next to her head, the deathly pallor, the ragged scars from stitches and the inelegant musculature of the appendage looked obscene next to her lovely face; I felt myself grow ashamed.

What right did I have to touch her?

Beneath me she gave a curious look and touched one of my hands, drawing it to her cheek so she could kiss it. I bowed my head to take her lips with mine. In the midst of our heated kissing she reached out to caress my chest, following the Y shape of the scars there, down my stomach, then between us to join my flesh to hers.

I moaned, shuddered, and rocked my hips forward, overcome with the sensation of her around me. We moved together, clumsy at first but slowly finding a rhythm. When we reached our end together, I was sure I saw stars. I came to my senses enough to ease myself off of her and gather her to me. I told her I loved her, for surely what I felt for her must be love for the emotion ran deep into my very soul. My lips moved fervently against her hot cheek as I whispered it to her.

She grew quiet, thoughtful and for a terrible moment I was afraid that she would reject me. But then she smiled and kissed me.

“I love you too…”

[magicalgirlagency]

As someone who love Geological and travelling. I wonder why there aren't any Mahou Shojo with a biomes theme already. It could work really well with the Climate Change topic too.

The main girls would be based on earth's biomes (jungles, oceans, mountains,...) The protagontist would be a Desert themed heroine (since deserts are badly underrated/misunderstood, they're amazing too ppl).

I think the Protag would be really confused about why she's desert based, since due to their reputation, she thinks desert are just "bad" and scary wastelands. Add in the mascot (a shapeshfiting snek or bird could work nicely) along with a Forest themed teammates who love studying about deserts (and nature in general), and there could be a plot point about the Desert Girl learning to accept her powers.

The team would include:

An ocean themed warrior who's older (probably 23-24yrs old) than the rest of her team, is their leader and mentor (since the sea is much, much older , practically ancient compare to other biomes). She'd use a spear/trident as her weapon and can shift into a "full aqua" form in which she's near unbeatable since nothing can really physically harm her in this liquidfied state. She'd have gills (for breathing underwater) and Bioluminescence (since deep sea creatures have them). Oh, and she can sing very well, 'cause mermaids and sirens. She's the team Cool Big Sis and is actually the legal guardian of one of the girl. She's normally really calm, but she teases the younger members a lot.

*Also she does have a mermaid form, her tail is that of a sailfish. And she could bite like a shark in this form, 'cause why wouldn't she be able to do that? She could manipulate ink and salt too, since squids exist and the ocean is salty.

The empathetic and warmhearted girl is a tundra themed warrior. She has a fox-like outfit which change the colour of its fur depending on the seasons (like how arctic foxes change their fur color). Her boots actually was design similarly to the hooves of a Reindeer and she have a cloak that can turn into owl wings allowing her to fly. Her body can also give off a very cold aura due to tundra being the coldest biome, but her body temperature itself is very warm. Plus, her suit would be fluffy so her friends enjoy snuggling with her for warmth during winter. She's a cuddle bug so it's a win-win for her too. Also, she's shorter than her friends since tundra animals have shorter legs and the flora there is very short as well. She uses a pair of metal fans to fight.

*She would be able to summon harsh cold wind and manipulate them to attack her enemies. She can also create moss patches and small shrubs to protect her friends. And she got great hearing btw, due to artic hares.

An energetic girl transforms into a Lake/River/freshwater Swamp heroine. She can manipulate water and is able to summon boiling hot water for attacks. She's able to purify polluted water. She can create blobs of murky slugde that can poison and slow down enemies. Her suit is based on crocodile/alligator and frogs. Her armor is thick and scaly, giving her nearly OP defense. They are mostly dry, but she can make them produce a slimy and venomous mucus at will. She also has buglike mandibles on her mask. Her armor also has iredescence btw, since it'd be very stylish. Her weapon is an axe.

*she's the Ocean Heroine adopted daughter. She enjoy cooking and her food taste amazing, but watching her cooks can be scary. She's very insecure about her look (she has vitiligo). Despite being tomboyish and energetic, she prefer dresses over pants. She also has a pet snake.

The Forest lad herself, she's very studious and creative. Her armor is based on tropical birds, big cats and flowers. This mean that she has the most colorful armor of the group. She has a pair of large bird wings behind that resemble a combination of several bird species wings. She can also became invisible to enemies (chameleon) and can deliver poisonous attack using her "claws". She also have this patches of small flower on one of her shoulder plate, from which she can realise a sleep inducing gas. She's not at all okay with the Protag feeling toward deserts and tried her best to change her friend view on the biome. She has like, three pet cats at home. Her weapon is a bow along with javelins.

*she's a part of the student council, and is the chillest one in that group. It's common knowledge among the younger students in the school that if you want to get out of trouble, you bribe her with some cool stationaries and she'd help you.

The Protagontist herself, she's kind and friendly, but easily confused. Her armor is based on desert snakes and scorpions. She has multiple segmented legs sprouting from her back armor plate. She also has a scorpion tail that can deal some serious damage. She can tank extremely high heat along with enduring below zero temperature. She is able to control sand to attack enemies. Additionally, since Antarctica is a desert, she has an ice mode that she'd to unlock.

*she watched alot of dark MGs show and was not at all on board with becoming a Magical Girl when the birb mascot first came to her. Thankfully, the mascot do watch those animes too (they got tricked by the art style) and thus is also as traumatized as she is.

...dear lord, I just write all that in 30mins, how did this happen???

Hey, you should craft your own series with that! I sense great potential for storytelling!

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Wings of Fire Dragon Guide, Part Three: RainWings and IceWings

This is a RainWing, or rainforest dragon. Their scales can be any color of the rainbow. They can camouflage, have prehensile tails, and can shoot shoot acidic venom from their front fangs, which only a relative's can neutralize. They live in a hidden city among the trees of the Rainforest Kingdom. Their diet consists of mainly fruits, such as pineapples, coconuts, bananas, oranges, mangoes, strawberries, blueberries, etc., but they if it came down to it, they could eat meat, they just prefer not to. Their names can be such as:

Fruits: Pineapple, Coconut, Mango...

Rainforest plants: Liana, Mangrove, Bromeliad, Orchid...

Rainforest animals: Python, Bullfrog, Tamarin, Kinkajou...

Grand or beautiful adjectives: Handsome, Exquisite, Dazzling, Grandeur, Glory...

This is an IceWing, or ice dragon. They have pale white, pale blue, silvery, pale purple, or even opalescent scales. They can withstand freezing temperatures, withstand bright light, radiate a chill from their scales, have serrated claws, and can breathe frostbreath, which when it used on a dragon or plant, can freeze an area, and if untreated, will cause the area to blacken and die. They live in the tundras of the Ice Kingdom, and their diet consists of artic and antarctic animals, such as seals, whales, caribou, polar bears, and orcas, and have been known to eat moss and seafood such as crabs and fish. They have had a hierarchy, which is the Seven Circles for the nobility. They used to have animus dragons, but their last one eloped with a NightWing, and one of their eggs hatched the first NightWing animus (and the most dangerous one) Darkstalker. Their names can be such as:

Arctic and antarctic animals: Narwhal, Mink, Polar Bear, Caribou, Penguin...

Wintery conditions: Arctic, Permafrost...

Winter weather: Snowflake, Hailstorm, Blizzard, Whiteout...

White gems: Diamond, Crystal, Opal...

Ice formations: Glacier, Icicle...

Cold landscapes: Tundra, Fjord...

Words that mean white: Alba, Hvitur...

[dross-the-fish]

Hi! I requested Adam cuddling anon after a shipwreck and I was wondering if I could get a drabble to go with it? Please and thank you. Anon with fem pronouns preferred if possible

Sure thing. I hope you like it! ....

From the top of a steep bluff the creature watched as the ship went down. The waters were treacherous this time of year and only the brave and the foolhardy ever dared sail the icy coastal waters of the artic island he called home. No doubt this was another over-ambitious captain seeking to find the oft sought after Northwest Passage. An effort in brazen futility but one that mankind seemed unable to resist.

The violently churning waves pitched the ship so far over that the splintering mast nearly touched the water. He smiled grimly. There would likely be no survivors, and if he waited, he could scavenge some supplies from the wreckage. Perhaps he’d get lucky and find new volumes for his ever-growing library. A veritable treasure trove of unfinished diaries, captain’s logs, love letters and even the odd novel. He hoarded them all in the little cove under the cliffs he called home. Those that weren’t so water logged as to be unreadable were shelved and saved and those too damaged to salvage were dried and the paper used for kindling. Even one such as himself could not afford to be wasteful in this barren wilderness…

He watched as the ship struck against a glacier and the hull split. As it descended beneath the waves it seemed almost a living thing, groaning in pain as it struggled in its last death throes, to stay afloat. Splintered chunks of wood drifted away, some of the doomed and desperate crew clung to barrels and crates or crowded into small life boats, hoping to delay the inevitable.

Let the sea have them, the creature thought to himself, for that is a swifter and more merciful end than to wander these frozen wastes alone. He didn’t like watching the survivors of the wreckages struggle to shore only to die slowly on the tundra. In his early days on the rock, he’d had weak moments where he had sometimes left such lost souls fish or fowl to eat in the hopes that over time they could adapt and perhaps even come to view him as a sort of unseen benefactor or “good spirit” as his long lost cottagers had. It was not the acceptance he craved but he reasoned that it would be better than nothing, to be loved from a distance rather than not at all. He never found out if such a thing could have been. Even if he staved off their hunger, they always succumbed to the cold in the end.

The cold of the arctic was harsh, it bit, and tore, and whittled its victims to nothing and even hardened as the creature was there was something unbearable about watching the unfortunate explorers slowly perish under the relentless grasp of the ice, when the air turned so cold even their tears would freeze to their cheeks. Yes, he believed it was better that they drown…

He waited for the ship to disappear before he climbed down the cliff face and wandered down the pebbled shoreline to pick through the debris. Miserable wretch that he was, it wasn’t beneath him to scavenge like a vulture and sustain himself off the remains. Despite the devastation of the wreckages there was an odd pleasure to the business of salvaging books and materials, sometimes even the rare treat of certain foods such as apples and potatoes could be found in unspoilt barrels. A shipwreck broke up the monotony of his day-to-day life, such as it could be called a life, and provided much needed enrichment. Shrugging his furs tighter around his shoulders he found himself humming one of the sea shanties he’d picked up from spying on past explorers as he crouched over washed-up bodies and picked through pockets for anything of interest.

Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice that not all of the bodies spread along the shore were corpses until a hand grasped at his ankle. He kicked absently, thinking perhaps a strand of kelp had brushed against him but the sound of a whimper made him freeze. He peered down and to his surprise there was a woman crawling towards him with her hands outstretched.

The creature’s heart thundered in his ears in momentary panic. He had never allowed himself to be seen by any of the explorers yet this one was staring him in the face. To his relief she wasn’t screaming, likely too chilled and exhausted to be frightened of him. She reached for him again, aiming for his calf, as though she were trying to climb up his leg. He wondered if he should leave her. She wouldn’t last long. Soaked as she was, she would freeze within the hour. He could simply walk away and return when she was dead.

She opened her mouth to plead for help. He stared at her in stunned silence for a moment. No one had ever asked him for help. Most would rather take their chances with death than with him and, despite his resolve never to directly interact with mankind again, her plea weakened him. Before he could talk himself out of it, he was removing his cloak and wrapping her in it.

He carried her back to his cove, traversing the rough and rocky terrain with astonishing speed and agility. When he reached his makeshift home, he was quick to set her down on his bed, which was little more than a pile of furs bundled in a sailcloth, and built up a camp fire. Another sheet of sailcloth served as a makeshift flap to close off the narrow mouth of the cove to the elements. The creature sat on the bed beside the shivering woman and helped her remove her wet clothing, doing his best not to compromise her modesty as he kept his cloak over her. He rubbed her hands and feet to revive her a little, grateful she was either too cold or too shocked to recoil from him.

At length her shivering stopped and she was able to take in her odd rescuer and his home. He had clearly been here for a long time, the cove showed signs of having been carved out and crude furniture had been built from driftwood.

“What are you?” she asked tentatively. Realizing her question was discourteous she had the grace to blush; she had meant to ask “who” but she was so taken aback by his strange appearance that she had asked “what.”

The creature mulled over his words carefully before supplying his answer, “I am a ghost, haunting this island, nothing more and nothing less,” noticing that she was beginning to shrink away from him he amended “You needn’t cringe so, I am no danger to you, presently.”

A perplexed frown formed on her face, “What’s your name?”

“I haven’t one. I was never given a name and even if I were there is none left who may call me by it. I presume you must have one?”

“You can call me Anon,” she replied glancing down in discomfort when his yellow eyed stare became too much for her.

He nodded, satisfied, “You may call me whatever you wish, but have a care, whatever you make of me, so shall I become,” he warned.

Unwilling to shoulder the burden of naming such a large and imposing being Anon pulled the furs tighter around her body and changed the subject, “Did anyone else survive?”

“Not likely, and if they did the elements have claimed them by now,” he replied dispassionately as he crouched down next to her to stoke the fire.

Anon dissolved into heartbroken sobs as the gravity of her situation sank in. She was alone with a strange monster on an arctic island where it was unlikely anyone would come to find her. The creature was startled by her sudden outburst, nearly causing him to jump and burn his arm in the flames. Perhaps it would have done to be a bit more gentle with her…too late now, he thought ruefully.

He watched her cry with growing unease before extending a hand to awkwardly pat her, “I-I am sorry for your loss,” he said stiffly. When she didn’t recoil from him, he ventured to put his arm around her. Consumed by her grief and fear she curled into him, for even the comfort of a terrifying creature was better than being alone after such a disaster.

Though unpracticed in giving comfort, the creature did his best to sooth her. He held her loosely, out of fear of hurting her, and rubbed a large hand up and down her back. She clung to him, as if she were still drowning and hiccupped a shaky “What happens to me now?”

“That is up to you. I will not keep you, if you wish to brave the wilds on your own you are free to try. Of course, you are welcome to stay here as my companion. Perhaps another ship will arrive in time, with better luck, and you may return with them back to Europe or the Americas.”

She nodded, grateful at least, that this creature was not as frightening as he looked. She clung to him awhile longer as the wind howled outside and the sea crashed angrily. Come what may, at least she wouldn’t be stranded on this desolate rock alone…

[catdotnip]

do you guys think the white that wends is a tundra like alaska or a tundra like the artic

[charmixpower]

Aurora, Major Fairy of Tundras

Aurora's design is based on the Yakut people, as Oymyakon in Yakiutia is the coldest permanently inhabited settlement on Earth. It is also located in the Siberian tundra, in a permafrost region

Her powers are still connected to the north, because there are no Southern tundras, but that's the only connection

She's was the youngest major fairy at the time of the attack, and often feels her skills and abilities are inadequate, retreating in on herself because of her self loathing. She tried her best to save as many young magic users as she possibly could, but often struggled to with the stress on her. She's the only major fairy that wasn't previously in charge of younger magic users before hand

Aurora managed to keep her faries safe and alive for so long by using the incredibly cold temperatures of her location to her advantage, turning her home village (with the help of her circle) into a fortress, retreating farther north as she had to. She was the last to hear about Morgana's safe haven due to her location, and was slow to get her circle into Tir Na Nog. Aurora often regrets not being more decisive and faster

Tir Na Nog halted the aging of the people inside, so while Aurora was the youngest when the attacks started since she was the last to join everyone inside hadn't been aging while she had been. So she's around the same age as Nebula now

The faries and witches under her are more cooperative and independent compared to the other Major Faries circle's. Due to Aurora's younger age at the beginning of the attacks, she wasn't able to fight off the wizards on her own, so her underlings learned to work together in groups to stay alive. The Artic circle, heh, all rely on eachother equally instead of Aurora being the only one allowed to make strategies and callout commands. Aurora often listens to their advice and follows their lead. She wouldn't trade them and their skills for the world, but she wishes she was able to be a pillar of strength for them like the other major faries we're for the magic user's they saved. Someone they could all look to and competely rely on without having to worry themselves

Aurora is very introverted and awkward, and due to her perceived failings often tries to emulate what she imagines a better leader would be in front of anyone not in her circle. She's incredibly stressed out all the time due to not being as naturally suited for the leadership role and the circumstances she gained it

She can often be found on her side of Tir Na Nog with a romance book and hot drink. Her underlings often like to pop in on her to chat, sit in comfortable silence, or just hang out in the same space as her

I'd imagine she'd be a very lively person with a strong passion for her magic of it weren't for the Wizards of the Black circle. As it stands now her introverted tendencies have taken over, she's stressed and anxious most of the time, and feels her magic is a important tool over something she can take joy in

[mylifeisadeceit]

We start with an hot one here everyone, who will win?

The knight in shining armour (and a real ass goddam sword) or the most feared person in all of the penitentiary and the Artic tundra?

[a-non-ymouswriter]

with the slime and magma cube ask got me thinking bc when i read rewind i forgot and knew nothing abt scientific evolution and adaptation, natural selection and all that but my teacher reminded me so:

the crimson, looking at it scientifically, does and doesnt make sense

because if you're talking about all the crimson vines and flowers and not the actual egg, the theories of natural selection and adaptation and evolution make total sense for example:

the crimson thrived in regular biomes like forests and plains but the second it hit the artic, it started dying. thats natural selection. unlike the random shrubs in the artic, the crimson didnt have the right genes and DNA to survive in the artic enviroment. so it had three choices: adapt, move, or die

and it choose adapt and it mutates to have the proper genes to survive the artic so instead of dying it thrives. and as the crimson in the artic without this adaptation dies out, the ones that had the adaptation (and therefore the advantage that natural selection choose) thrived and bred, making generations of other crimson that will sruvive in the artic, making that evolution

and the crimson evovles insanely fast. like it takes generations and generations on end for evolution to happen and the crimson has it done in like months at best (i think??). but i think thats super cool bwecause it makes it so scary. how fast the crimson will do the evolution process once it relaizes that it needs to adapt. it shows that no matter were you go or what you are, teh crimson will adapt. no one is safe.

i really like science and dream smp lore

sorry for the late reply!

but yes, that is such a big mood. sometimes you look at fantasy or just fanfic in general and look at all the fantastical stuff and wonder... how the hell did that end up like that? like biologically, even with magic, how did it just go like that???

the crimson does adapt and evolve insanely fast, yes it took years for it to adapt to extreme weather temperatures and even the dimensional hell temperature that is the nether but it's so much faster than actual evolution.

little fun tidbit; the infected mobs survived much longer than the crimson itself, so whenever it was sent out to extreme temperature it died there but slowly the crimson was learning from the experience. following the footsteps of the infected mob over and over again until it adapted properly. the mutations the mobs had were soon integrated with the plants.

so just imagine the crimson sending out infected mobs, people, out into the cold or hot biome over and over again until it adapted to slowly take over the biome.

extreme tundras are slowing it down right now, but, it's not going to last is it?

and the nether is next on its target :)