#|| Crimson Kraken

[shadowtear]

Forgot i had this app LOL

Heres doodles (i did not do the peter or the ones in the boat

[nemo-draco]

"Talk to me, I talk back."

@sstvar 's version of Bendy, affectionately called Boo, has been hanging around my brain recently. He's a bit upset regarding some of the plots the others are going through.

Papa Wolf Demon...XD

[raccoonskoodilypoopdungeon]

the crimson demons are peak fantasy race because they fulfil the human need to just be a bunch of weirdos

[drmapzo]

Hello, everyone!

It seems everything is lost. The whole crew was no match for the mighty kraken and the ship has been destroyed.

But as if some kind of miracle, some of the smaller ships have survived the onslaught. Quickly the survivors try to get away as soon as possible from the mythical monster, but only time will tell if they're able to do so.

The creature tokens for this map are a Crimson Jelly, a Depths Stalker and a Sea Anemone. Emerald tier gets the Depths Stalker while Diamond tier gets all three. In addition, Sapphire tier gets extra creature token variants.

You can see a preview of all of this week’s Patreon content here.

Thank you very much for taking a look and be sure to check out my Patreon where you can pledge for gridless version, alternate map versions as well as the tokens pertaining to this map.

[merrinla]

Story to be told

When Halsin asks you to tell him something about yourself, the answers will be different depending on who you play as.

Tav / Dark Urge: I live in mortal fear of krakens, though I've never actually seen one. Halsin: Well they are fierce creatures from what I understand... but as long as you avoid the high seas, I think you can consider yourself safe.

Astarion: Maybe I have a sweet tooth too. Halsin: Is that so? Would you seek to drizzle honey on a neck before indulging?

Shadowheart: Well, I have something of a soft spot for animals... though I've never had a pet, that I'm aware of. Halsin: Ha! Pet ownership is an illusion - nature's creatures choose their own companions. No one has true mastery over them in the end. As it should be. But it heartens me to learn you and I share the same admiration.

Karlach: When I first got to the Hells, I was so scared and lonely I adopted a pet rock. Named it Crag. Halsin: Ah, but there are no pets in nature - only companions. Though I'll admit Crag likely made for a rather stoic confidante...

Gale: I cast my first spell whilst still a babe. My mother took an awful fright when I conjured up a score of rabbits in the pantry. Halsin: Ha! Talented from the beginning, then? Almost a surprise you didn't cast magic in the womb.

Wyll: I've always wanted a child of my own. Perhaps one day, when peace visits the Coast. Halsin: I think I know how you feel... duty, eh? I hope your wish comes true. We'll need new life once all this is over.

Lae'zel: I despise sunsets, slow wits - and small talk. Halsin: Luckily there's nothing small about getting to know someone like you. There's little occasion for frivolity in nature - I can appreciate your stance... even if others do not.

Githyanki Player: I once stitched shut a wound using twine made from the entrails of an enemy. Halsin: You are... nothing if not inventive. I can only hope the foe had already expired before you began your work.

Dark Urge: I really don't know very much about myself to tell. Dark Urge: Nothing half as charming as that... it's all crimson and rot. Standard option: I don't think there's anything worth sharing. Halsin: Oh. Well, your choice, of course.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

The fact that Ed feels the need to clarify this point… that he’s ‘the man’ in this story 💔

But… it does point to a psychological separation and change in self-perception.

Yet still… he’s just making sure. Saying it out loud. Checking Stede’s aware too…

I’m the man… I’m the man… (not the beast, not the Kraken)

That’s huge progress, but it should never have had to happen in the first place.

Here’s a more positive spin from when I was in a different mood

https://www.tumblr.com/crimson-and-clover-1717/762040907734368256/ed-rewrites-the-narrative-of-who-is-he-is-man?source=share

[inexplicifics]

Oooh a snippet from dragon!lambert please?🥺 or if you dont have an ytring for that yet, alpha!milena?

Sure, have some dragon!Lambert. Not sure where this one is going, but Lambert sure has acquired himself a not-quite princess!

Milena watches the dragon spiraling down towards her and cannot help the tears running down her cheeks - mingled terror and rage so closely intertwined she cannot tell the difference. It is a magnificent creature, she can tell even through her tears: a deep and gleaming black that somehow glints crimson when the light of the setting sun catches against its scales, its wings broader than the castle’s walls, its sinuous neck and tail oddly graceful as it swoops lower. The dragons who live in the eastern mountains don’t generally prey on people, or on livestock. They eat deer, and boar, and bears, and whatever else they can catch in the forests; and Milena has heard that sometimes they will fly west to the sea and catch enormous fish and whales and even kraken. But they do not devour people. Usually.

[unboundprompts]

Possible names for a ship? (E.g. the marigold, the christian, the dreadnought, ...)

Ship Name Ideas

-> check out fantasynamegenerator for more ideas!

Crimson Tide

The Drowned Maiden

Revenge's Wake

The Leviathan

The Reaper

Tempest's Fury

The Phantom's Curse

The Stormbreaker

The Devil's Daughter

The Kraken's Grasp

The Sentinel

Death's Embrace

The Harbinger

The Black Gale

Wraith of the Sea

The Tempest

The Sovereign

The Providence

[frostgears]

We Who Will Not Bow

It had been a difficult night.

"You're not an Academy mage. You're her," the injured guard said, defiant. "Bree the Bodiless. Bree the Banished. Bree the Bloody… go on, then. Kill me. Get it over with."

"And what purpose," she said, frustrated, "would that serve? Gods, they've been telling tales about me in my absence, I see. Hold still, I think I can fix this."

She opened a module drawer on her left arm, pulled out a silvery metal module marked with a quincunx of green jade inlay, snapped it into the socket on her left palm. Thin tentacles ventured out from an aperture, tasting the air, dripping with orange ooze. The guard shrank back against the side of the checkpoint tower.

"What are you going to do to me? What is that— aaaahh!"

Bree clasped her hand over the bolt wound on the injured guard's arm. Tentacles sank into flesh, writhing between her jointed porcelain fingers, probing under skin.

"Don't squirm, that's a burrowing bolt head, we don't want it burrowing any deeper. And these are preserved regeneration glands from a nesting bog kraken. They guard their eggs, did you know that? For up to two months. But the Great Bog is a miserable environment. There's parasites, and fungi, and necrotic plague, and so the damn things evolved these organs to channel mana into their eggs and young, almost like healing spells, to give them a fighting chance. Not against me, though. I killed this one and took its regeneration glands and doomed its clutch, just to get back one more thing I used to be able to do before that fucking archon took everything away from me… okay, wiggle your fingers…"

The guard's fingers moved. Bree took her hand away, satisfied. The tentacles retracted into her palm. She held an evil-looking bit of spiraled and fluted black metal between thumb and forefinger, rotated her wrist with a series of clicks, turning it around to inspect.

"Got it. All of it. Regrowth forced it out."

Her chest plate slid open. A lurid orange glow splashed across the burrowing bolt head, the hand holding it, and the face of the guard. She squeezed the bolt head, and it crumbled, not bending as mundane metal might, but falling to dust. The glow flared brighter.

"Gotta feed the furnace. Saved your arm, paid the cost; let's go, sweetheart, I need all the help I can get. Pick up your crossbow and follow me."

Her chest plate clacked shut.

"I'm not following you anywhere, traitor!"

Bree shrugged, then held out a hand. Her other one. No disembodied organs in the right hand, although anyone who'd actually seen what she could do with the thing built into its palm would no doubt prefer to hold the left.

"The bastards who killed your mates were Crimson Vanguard, the Crimson Pact's commandos. Real dickheads even by Pact standards. Drink to your squad's memory tomorrow that you all gave nearly as good as you got, because they don't normally leave any survivors. Plus, the Vanguard always sends a backup team. So, way I see it, either you come with me, and you might live, or you run and you probably don't, and really, which one of us is the traitor then, right?"

The guard glared at her through narrowed eyes, but took her hand. Bree hauled her to her feet. And then the guard ran for it.

"It's you! You're the traitor!" Bree yelled at the guard's rapidly receding back. "In case it wasn't clear from context!"

Her voice in this body was beautifully clear and melodic, but not particularly loud; it hadn't been built for yelling, and it didn't satisfy. Not that it would stop her from trying.

Something twanged behind her. A projectile of some kind bounced off her back.

"Nice try," she said, spinning around and folding her right hand down to reveal a hand-length metal spike nestled in a cavity in the mechanism of her arm, "my turn now." An internal spring released. The spike shot out, and did what it might be expected to do to a human skull.

She wiped fresh blood off her faceplate, afterward; tasted the crimson spatter with the tip of an intricately jointed porcelain tongue. It didn't taste like anything. It never did. Nothing did.

"You didn't have to come here," she said to the headless Vanguard commando at her feet. "Any other town. Or better yet, stay home, and don't murder anyone, and I could return the favor. But you came here armed, and it lives here, and I have this little compulsion to take care of it, yeah? 'HER TASK FOR THE TIME BEING SHALL BE TO SAFEGUARD AND PROTECT HER MOST RECENT VICTIM, UNTIL AND UNLESS SAID VICTIM MAY RELEASE HER FROM SERVICE, SATISFIED'," she said, in a low, mocking tone. "Lyric's horrified to even look at me, so I doubt satisfaction and release are on the table any time soon, right?"

No answer was forthcoming.

"Well, fuck you too, buddy. Time to go find your friends."

She sped along the main road, each step a leap, her torn and patched Academy cape flapping behind her. Everyone trying to get into the town had fled when the first Vanguard team set fire to the checkpoint, with their wagons if they could, on foot if they had to. She passed several wagons that stood abandoned, stopped briefly at another to shatter a yoke with her fist and free two terrified oxen.

Then she saw what she was looking for: you'd have to be an idiot to keep driving your wagon towards a burning guard tower, unless you were the rest of the second Vanguard team, with a wagon full of bad news.

Bree knelt in a ditch by the side of the road, screened from view by a thicket, and swapped out the regeneration gland module with another set of pickled arcane beast parts in a can, which did another thing she'd been able to do on her own before her body had been taken away.

The wagon was almost to her, close enough that her upgraded senses could clearly see the outline of a crossbow beneath the driver's plain black cloak. She tickled the stolen sun-serpent pyrosis organ with an internal actuator, and flame bloomed in the night again.

They came scrambling out, firing back, the snap of bows audible over the screaming of the horses. Disciplined, she had to give them that. Bolts hit her in the face and chest.

Not to much effect, of course. She'd once been Lyric's twin, an almost peerless servant automaton frame, built by her old business partner to last, but fundamentally also built to serve tea and look good in a maid outfit. It wasn't enough. It wasn't her. She'd made Coda upgrade her again and again, until Coda's own restorative compulsion had hit its limits, and the artificer told her there was nothing more she knew how to do. By then, she was strong. From there, she'd upgraded herself.

Three of them rushed her with swords. Close enough, Bree thought; she raised her right hand, opening the palm shutter, and whispered, "Nis zerat volut, ghran."

Her soulcatcher, the glowing point of twisted light in her right palm, was, in some sense, the reason she was here, stuck in this patchwork body with its almost nil astral presence. It was an instrument of more subtlety than power and it still worked for her when the rest of her magic had died. She'd upgraded it too. Now it didn't need a soul to be loosened from its mortal shell first.

Ghostly purple light streamed over them, and a moment later, they were down. She fed their torn-off souls to her furnace. Apparent time slowed to a crawl, the high ticking of her main escapement dropping to a steady thud, thud, thud. She snapped blades, broke bones, ripped through the remaining commandos with accelerated fury. The details were messy and irrelevant, forgotten as quickly as they came. The last two Vanguard were carrying a box. She took it from them and opened the lid.

The shock broke her concentration; her time sped up again. "Titan voidwasp larvae," she said, almost reverently. They'd been covered at the Academy, briefly, not something anyone was expected to encounter. The shiny purple-black grubs were from somewhere far, far away, and their eventual monstrous metamorphosis drank souls, just like she did now, but on a colossal scale. They were city killers.

"Here's the thing, little guys, even I don't trust myself with shit like you. Sorry. Protect and safeguard, you know how it is."

She fired her spike, retracted its cable, fired again, into each one in turn, until nothing was left but ichor and chitin splinters. Then she teased a last fractional burst out of her pyrosis module, playing a jet of flame across the mess, just in case.

That was it. There didn't seem to be much else to do. She checked for Vanguard survivors. One of them wasn't quite gone.

"Who… what… the fuck… are you?"

"Just somebody's discarded doll," Bree told him. "When the Pact interrogates your ghost, tell them Bree said not to come back." She dispatched him, as cleanly as she could.

For an indefinite time, there was no motion on the bloodied road, except for the dying flames, and the wind teasing her cape and her hair.

Silver radiance kindled beside her.

"Oh no, not you, don't you fucking start with me—"

"JUSTICE."

"—can piss up a rope!"

She ramped up her speed again and tried to strike the figure of a burning haloed skeleton with fire and the soulcatcher, both at once, but hit nothing but empty air. The archon was only as tangible as it wanted to be. She'd find a way to get at it someday, but it seemed today wasn't going to be that day.

"CEASE THIS."

"Get fucked."

"IT MAY INTEREST YOU TO KNOW THAT THE SUMMONING OF THE CHOSEN HERO HAS YET AGAIN FAILED."

"Not my fault the archmages can't get it up."

"THE HERO IS SUMMONED TO SAFEGUARD THE KINGDOM. THAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THE RITUAL. THE INVOCATIONS BESEECH THE DIVINE TO FILL A NEED AND PROVIDE A PROTECTOR IN THE TIME OF CRISIS."

"Okay, I don't care."

"IF A PROTECTOR IS ALREADY INCARNATE, THE DIVINE FEEL THEIR DUTY IS DONE. EVEN IF THE HERO IS UNAWARE OF THEIR ROLE."

"I jacked the Chosen Hero's soul and sold it to Coda and put it in a doll, right, I was there. So what, you're saying they can't do it again because Lyric's already here, even if it's a doll maid and not a hero? Tough shit, I guess. You met it, you know it isn't exactly hero material."

"YOUR ASSESSMENT IS CRUDE BUT CORRECT. IT IS NOT, AND IT WILL NOT BE. IT IS CONTENT TO SERVE AND TO ENJOY ITS NEW FORM. AND YET A HERO EXISTS. SOMEONE PROTECTS THE KINGDOM ALREADY, ALTHOUGH THEY DO NOT THINK OF IT IN SUCH TERMS. THEY DID SO AGAIN, THIS NIGHT."

"Wait."

"YOUR ACTIONS PRODUCED A HERO."

"Oh gods no."

"THE GODS WATCH. THE SKEIN OF DESTINY IS RE-COILED, A TANGLE REMOVED."

"I can't be—"

"JUSTICE MAY YET BE DONE. GOOD LUCK TO YOU."

Bree roundly cursed the archon in her annoyingly pleasant and musical voice, until it disappeared, and then another fifteen minutes for good measure, in case it felt like coming back. When it didn't, she started walking.

She looked back, once, to see the lights of the town. Somewhere back there, Coda and Lyric lived in their little shop. Lyric didn't sleep any more than Bree did. Maybe her once-twin was leaning out the window, one of its cute dresses ruffled by the night breeze. Maybe it was even looking this way.

"Well, let's face it, Bree," she said to herself, resigned. "You wouldn't have been a very good maid." □

---

prev: We Who Serve

next: We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 1: Bree 1

[heartfullofleeches]

I frickin LOVE the extreme size difference between kraken and clownfish reader! Please, sir, can we have some more??

A living, breathing human. One you at least assume to be. It's really hard to tell since it's been so long, and their current situation.

After exploring the ruins of the latest in numerous ship cracks in the region, you swam up to the surface to experiment with your new toy in its proper environment. As hard as you tried, instruments just didn't play well underwater. On land you discovered the horrific aftermath of what you thought to be a natural disaster, a visceral sea of crimson and improvised weapons strewn across the shore as far as the eye could see. There wasn't a remain in sight of what caused either beside the rotting wood of a ship and a single leg peaking from the intact helm of the ship. It twitches as a broken spear washes onto shore and sticks its boot.

Saving your shock for a better time, you rush over to help the survivor. It takes all of your strength to pull the wheel off their crushed limb, prolonged by moans and pained breaths causing you to let go out of fear of hurting them more. You pull them as close to the water without submerging them to check their injuries. Their pants leg was dyed red, but upon rolling back their sleeve there's sickening relief that the blood was likely from the shed around them, and their leg wasn't irreparable despite the bruising. Their forehead was spilt open, and their body was covered head to toe in smaller battle wounds, but they would live.

You tear off the driest part of their shirt and wrap it around their head. Hissing in pain as you tie it tight, the human's eyes flutter open. They fall on you momentarily, but their focus swiftly draws elsewhere - passive confusion soaring to unbridled fear. You don't have the pleasure not opportunity to ask them what's wrong.

A tendril locking around your waist and arms, you're dragging back into the sea - hurled through the tides so rapidly your vision temporary goes black before fading back into the murky blue depth of the ocean. The tendril is so thick it completely immobilizes you all the way down to your tail; left hopelessly to flail and scream as you're pulled down to the sea floor and back at the mouth of the ship. Through its smile of minced flesh and pointed teeth, you realize it was not the ship looking down on you, but the glowing eyes of your captor. Released from its tendrils, the chance of your escape is greatly weakened as the beast takes you in its enormous hand instead.

"Little one, it hurts me so to see you in cohorts with the enemy...."

The best approximation to your scale would be the time you entertained a group of children on a cruise ship. The smallest, friendliest one of the bunch had the most adorable doll you had ever seen. It fit snuggly in the crook of their arms and was no longer than their torso, waving to you as the ship passed by. Somehow, you were even smaller than that to this creature. Its single hand fit perfectly around your midsection with room to spare. One bite and your head would be taken clean off. If you could've grown pale in the gills you would have.

"please don't eat me...."

Can something thing big even hear a feeble little thing like you? You're probably part of its dessert, not even the full thing. The Kraken's tremendous laughter answers your question in one way or another.

"Eat you? Eat you? Even frightened you put on the best performances, my love. Why in the seven seas would I eat my mate? It's true you be on the smaller side, but you have done what no other creature has done in ages. Make me laugh."

You now know the source of those distance chuckles after every show. Back then you used to write it off as another mystery of the sea.

"I made my peace washing you from afar, but seeing you continue to play with our food broke my heart in two and left me no choice but to claim you now. I do care for you, but you will need to earn my forgiveness if you want your freedom. I pray you have your best material in memory."

[masochnik]

What are your thoughts on your fan calamities designs? Would you like to denote anything in particular about them?

Oh uuuuuuh sooooo

We have 5 Calamities and 5 Ports. Both of them have Marlin, so possibly Ports Stingray and Port Kraken referencing on Stingray and Kraken Calamities. So probably All-withering Crimson Whale from Captain Ishmael story could be not a just a replacement of Pallid Whale.

And what guys associated with end of the earth, they're 5-4 and have Pallid and Crimson (Red) dudes? Horsemen of Apocalypse!! So other Calamities could have White and Black colors.

Marlin could represent a Conquer aka half-canon Horseman. I had make him White because of it but I added read elements for contrast with Indigo Elder. This dude going to just pierce with nose and split anything with his fin :P

Other White Calamity aka Pestilence i made a Sea Serpent because why not xd. In PM games nothing going to tell what exactly is last of Calamities. Btw, this dude just blowing his toxin bubbles that makes death mist that could kill ship's crew.

Crimson Kraken is War. He's just sucking blood from creatures with his tentacles.

Black Stingray is Famine. I made him Manta Ray because looks cool 😎😎. Btw this guy just opens his mouth and like an actual whale sucking ships and lesser Whales.

And Pallid Whale is Death but ya know about him

[shadowtear]

I keep forgetting i havent posted on my tumblr smhhh.. anyway working on the 2nd pilot for the crimson krakens chest webtoon so should hopefully come out any sunday now

[journey-to-the-attic]

In Spiderkid, do you have code names for the other heroes/villains as well? :O

i do!! i had some vague ideas for powers as well, i'll go ahead and just put the cast's roles under the cut:

HEROES:

The Devildom Rangers:

Diavolo, "Prince" - doesn't have any superhuman powers, but uses high-level tech as with batman or iron man

Lucifer, "Morningstar" - light manipulation

Satan, "Colourpoint" - anger enhances his speed and strength

Belphie, "Hoarfrost" - ice powers

Simeon, "Peregrine" - telekinetic powers

Luke, "Blue-jay" - speedster, Simeon's apprentice

Vigilantes:

IK, "Spiderkid" - spider powers

Raphael, Unknown - no powers, just. runs up and starts punching bad guys

VILLAINS:

Genuine international threats:

Barbatos, "The Clockmaker" / "The Nightbringer" - mutated spider powers *see note at bottom

Self-motivated and not malicious to the general peace if left to own devices:

Mammon - "The Gambler" - a form of mind power that acts as extreme persuasiveness on his end; runs a casino that acts as a base for underground operations - many, many underlings

Asmo - "The Butterfly" - hypnosis

Levi - "The Kraken" - conducts electricity with water manipulation, hacks stuff

Beel - "The Berserk", also nicknamed "Kirby" - takes on the attributes of the materials he consumes

No one knows what their deal is:

Solomon - "The (Mad) Professor" - does fucked up experiments, and wants to do more fucked up experiments on certain heroes (doesn’t want to actively hurt civilians, but generally doesn't care about collateral damage)

Thirteen - "The Reaper" - kills with a touch, ex-assassin

CIVILIANS:

Wiz, Astaroth, Alecto, Mephisto - run a satire paper that accidentally becomes the city's most trusted source on hero and villain activity, as one of them used to be married to one of the villains and another one of them is pals with one of the heroes

Mephistopheles - runs the city's major legitimate tabloid newspaper

*note on "the nightbringer" - here's that healthy dose of lore i have to inject into every au! if you'll recall a past suggestion that barbatos's powers from the same spider that bit ik, but messed him up to an extreme degree, which he is now very bitter about...

there is a conspiracy theory in which an entity known as the nightbringer calls down "the crimson moon" (hey reference), bringing eternal night to the world. each time this happens, time resets, with the sinners eradicated. barbatos seeks to call down the crimson moon and becomes the nightbringer, desiring to reset the world so that he might return to a normal life

[bardic-tales]

Friday Kiss Tag

Thank you for the tag, @captain-kraken

I know that it's not exactly Friday but I've been working on this little scene for the past week.

He knew that he shouldn't pursue her. Without her memories, she didn't even know him. Bianca didn't remember their late night movie marathons, their training sessions, or even that time that they kissed in the rain.

Still, in that moment, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms, hold her, and tell her all the things he was feeling inside. He wanted his Bianca back, but the doctors told him to take it easy on her.

"Y-Your amazing, Bianca," he whispered. His voice was a bit rough with emotion: desire, love, and concern.

"I'm just a woman." She placed her hands on the railings leading to the sector above them and this market section. Her black hair tumbled over her shoulders and curled around the soft out curve of her breasts. "Just a woman who is trying to rebuild her life after her previous one was stolen from her."

As they stood there, they watched the fireworks explode high above them in the sky. The various tints of red and yellows illuminated the colorful background, giving a softness that even the paper lanterns couldn't provide.

Rather, she was watching the fireworks. He was watching her. His eyes never left her face as they stood together beneath the fireworks.

As he examined her, illuminated in the various hues of colors, his stomach fluttered with excitement. There was something intoxicating about her standing with him, about the way she would sometimes look at him. And he knew he was falling for her more with each passing moment they shared together.

His heart thumped against his rib cage, and he knew he couldn't resist any longer. If being with him shattered her completely, he would pick up the pieces and glue her back together.

Reaching for Bianca, he drew her in his arms. They wound around her shoulders and biceps as he drew her closer. Her violet eyes widened as she rested her arms around his shoulders, the crimson-painted claws clenching against the silvery-white metal.

"Just a woman," he repeated softly, once he bent his head closing the space between their faces. His breath fanned her lips. "No. You're more than that. Much more than that." His lips brushed against hers. The caress soft and gently as he nipped at her soft, bubble-gum colored lips. She stiffened in his embrace, but soon, she relaxed as she closed her eyes and pressed her mouth against his.

Pulling back, he still scanned her delicate features. Her eyes still stayed closed as her smoky eye shadow reminded him that she was his little demon, as well as his angel. He didn't know what the future held, but he would be there for her through everything--even if it meant sundering the world apart to return her memories.

Tagging: @arrthurpendragon @megandaisy9 @serenofroses @sliceoflifeshepard and OPEN tag

[whimzyjpeg]

Here is another prized oc of mine, Hextavian! ⋆｡°✩ Here is a bit about him!

Name/Title: Hextavian, Colossus Crimson Species: Squid Merman Height:

Human: 6' 11

Merman: 45

Age: 25 Gender: Male He/Him Sexuality: Pansexual Job: Mystic Extra:

Lives in the Wilds/Common realm

He is based off the Kraken

Kisses ass to another character named Marco. ⋆｡°✩

[yuzanwraith]

Treasure

Prompt 2. Treasure for @sasukimimochi 's Drawing & Writing challenge <3

Warnings: Dark Wangji

It’s quiet, being underwater, The only noise in the dimly lit room around his tank being that of gentle bubbles within the water itself, rising to the surface and popping once they make contact with the cold surface air. Crimson eyes blink tiredly as the creature within the glass prison places its webbed hands upon the thick walls of its home, trying to peer outside.

“Did you hope to see something else today?” Someone calls out from another room nearby.

The large, beautifully coloured, fins atop Wei Ying’s head perk up upon hearing that voice. Scales covering his neck which trail down his back towards his tail, puff up slightly in anticipation, in fear. And he hates that he feels fear. Hates that it’s him, he fears…

Suddenly, the sound of metal clattering disrupts the previous silence. And despite coming from the other room, he can hear the grating noise of knives being sharpened.

Wei Ying's entire form threatens to tremble. And it takes nearly all of his willpower to stop his scales from expanding even more.

Not today, he won’t show it today, won’t show he’s afraid. He's confident, majestic, powerful… or so he tells himself, tells himself this mantra of words in his head, again and again. Until he makes himself believe it to be the truth.

By the end of this mantra, he starts to realise something. The slicing sound of the knives…stopped. That is- Too soon. He's never done sharpening his tools this soon. Confused, Wei Ying sways closer to the edge of the glass, touches it with his face to look through it and into the large room.

It is as ever, beautiful. Decorated to the brim with the most illustrious of furniture, and the shelves are packed with glass vials all varying in colour. They glisten and sparkle whenever a few rays of sunshine enter through the elaborate Victorian windows. But what’s out there, around him isn’t what matters most, what’s on the inside however… Inside those innocent looking vials... One doesn’t need to study them for long to see what’s being displayed in them.

Eyes, noses, mouths, bones, fish, vermin.

The hand of an elderly man, a foot of a child. and the teeth of one that never made it out of its mother.

Even the eye of a kraken, a beast of legend, sits proudly atop one of the shelves…

The lord of this manor, Hanguang-Jun holds many things dear to him here, in pristine condition. Every ache, disease, oddity or smile, forever preserved here inside this room. Forever encased within colourful glass containers.

And one of his greatest possessions, a creature recently only known in myths, now exists here within these walls. Its face remains pressed against the glass of its tank and the scales of its tail and fins reflect into a mesmerising rainbow of light, a beautiful display in the normally dimly lit room.

Focusing on his work Hanguang-Jun carefully and with utmost precision, a result no doubt of years of repeated practice, arranges his knives and tools on his worktable in front of him. The edge of the blade is still blunt in places, sharpened as if an amateur worked on it. Normally he would never dare deliver such sloppy work, but today is different. Today, his tools won’t require precision. Today they are allowed to be…rough… He glances at the golden metal threads on the corner of his work bench and holds one up so it glitters in the faint light that Illuminates the room. Yes, this wire will make a perfect base to work with. Decision made, and tools prepared and ready Hanguang-Jun, or Wangji, gathers his things and heads into the main space.

And no matter how many times he stands in front of it, it will never fail to amaze him. He feels his hair stand on edge, and his breath catch in his throat. His blood pumps harder, traveling to his ears and neck staining them a vibrant red. It does things to him, seeing such a marvel right before his eyes.

Oh, what beautiful things he could make from it.

But that, that is a thought for later. First he must see to it that his possession is…malleable.

Wangji tilts his head, studying the caged creature before him for a few seconds longer, noticing the way its eyes dart around the room they’re in as if looking for a way out, as if trying to spot if there’s anything different. Anything it could use. But no.

“The room is the same as it always was Wei Ying.”

He tried but failed to stop his scales from blowing up, like a cat with its fur standing on end. Wei Ying stares with wide eyes as the Lord of the manor now stands before his tank. Somehow he just knows, knows that something is different today. Normally Hanguang-Jun would come to him, open the latch to his chamber. Drag him out by pulling at the heavy chains tied around his neck and tail, and leave him on the cold floor in a constant state of suffocation. His skin suited for life underwater would become uncomfortable dry, and his scales would bristle to show his discomfort. He would be kept like that, only occasionally granted some water over his body to keep him alive, but just barely. Just enough so that he would continue to live, but also to know in who’s hands his life is held, to be made aware who is in control. At the end of this ordeal, he would be various scales poorer, have a pinch of fin missing in multiple places, and would watch as another lock of his hair is sliced off and put into a container.

But again, today seems different. There’s something unnerving about the way Hanguang-Jun looks at him, at the way his eyes travel over his body as if examining every detail in a way he hadn’t before. It sends a shiver down his spine and he wonders if this is the day he’ll break. After all, he might be important, he might be considered a prized possession to his arsenal of treasures. But he isn’t Hanguang-Jun’s most cherished one. That, that lies in front of him, and in between him and Lord Wangji.

There in the midst of the both of them, a golden metal table carries the one thing more important than him.

But before he can gaze upon it, he's distracted when from the corner of his eyes he sees sharp tools glisten as Hanguang-Jun, careful of the object in the middle, steps closer to his cage. And Wei Ying ignores the way Wangji’s words make him shudder, they’re meant to demotivate him, to make him lose any hope of ever leaving, he knows this. So he tries to respond coming from a different angle, because despite his unease he is still curious… What more could there be, he’s given him so much, done so much…

“Ah Lan Zhan, what more do you want from me?�� His Lord doesn’t grant him a response, so he continues, saying the only thing he can think of that might mean something, that might stir something within Wangji.

“I already gave you my heart long ago”

Atop the gilded table lies a bowl filled with water with a reddened sheen. In it, is the one thing Hanguang-Jun treasures more above all else. Wei Wuxian's still-beating heart.

Wei Ying himself might be Hanguang-Jun’s beloved jewel, But it is the heart that allows Wangji true control over him, with that in his possession, Wei Ying can never truly leave.