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bethanythebogwitch · 4 months ago

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Wet Beast Wednesday: channel catfish

I like cats and I like fish, so it's a bit silly that I haven't done a WBW on catfish yet. Time to fix that. The channel catfish may not be the most spectacular of all catfish, but it's a skilled survivor and a tenacious little fish worthy of respect.

(Image: a channel catfish swimming in clear water. It is a long fish woth a round body and a broad, flat head. The fins are rounded and the anal fin is long and runs under the back half of the body. A fleshy adipose fin is on the top of the tail. The eyes are round and protrude from the head. Four pairs of barbels grow from around the mouth, the the largest extending from the upper lip. The body is a murky brown, with a white underbelly. End ID)

The majority of channel catfish (Ictalurus punctatus) reach 30 to 60 cm (1-2 ft) in length and weigh between 1 and 2 kg (2-4 lbs), but they grow throughout their lives and can occasionally get much larger. The world record channel catfish weighed 58 lbs (26 kg). Channel cats possess traits typical of catfish. The bodies are cylindrical and scaleless and four pairs of long, sensory barbels grow from around the mouth. The pectoral and dorsal fins have spines that are filled with venom which can cause stinging and numbness in humans. I know this from personal experience.

(Image: a channel catfish swimming over rocky substrate in murky water. End ID)

Channel catfish are heavily adapted to live in low-visibility environments by heavily focusing on senses other than sight. They have a powerful sense of smell thanks to heavily packed olfactory receptors in their nostrils. A channel cat can smell amino acids at concentrations of 1 part per 100 million. In addition to their mouths, channel catfish also have taste buds covering their skin, essentially turning their bodies into one big tongue. The taste buds are most concentrated on the barbels, which the catfish uses to help detect sources of food. Catfish hearing is enhanced by the presence of a Weberian apparatus, a complex system of bone and ossicles that connects the auditory system to the swim bladder. This allows the swim bladder to amplify vibrations, allowing sounds too quiet for the inner ear to normally detect to become audible.

Pogfish (Image: a channel catfish with mouth open, about to bite onto a baited hook. End ID)

Channel catfish are found in the eastern half of North America from Canada to northeastern Mexico. They can tolerate salt and brackish water, but are mostly found in freshwater, where they can inhabit everything from crystal-clear streams to murky lakes. While channel cats are omnivorous, they are specialized to act as predators in murky water. They are nocturnal ambush predators who retreat to deep water in the day and move to shallower water to hunt at night. They will either sit still and wait for prey to pass or slowly search through rugged areas, using their barbels to investigate crevices where prey could hide. Their nostrils and taste buds help finding prey, specifically by detecting the amino acids L-alanine and L-arganine, which are shed by animals. When catfish detect amino acids, they have been observed getting excited: turning, biting, and maneuvering themselves toward prey. As with other catfish, they rapidly open their mouths to create suction and force prey inside, where it is swallowed whole. Catfish will eat just about anything they can find, including small fish, various invertebrates, snakes, amphibians, insects, small mammals and birds, algae, seeds, nuts, and other plant material. Their diet becomes more carnivorous as they get older. Channel catfish are not social outside of mating and establish territories. They appear to follow a dominance hierarchy with larger animals claiming better territories and fighting to maintain them.

(Image: a channel catfish swimming amongst rocks. End ID)

Channel catfish have a complex system of communication using both chemical and auditory cues. Catfish in general can produce pheromones that can be used to recognize other specific individuals. They use these to advertise their presence to each other and mark their territory. Channel catfish can use pheromones to determine the sex, age, and size of another member of their species without ever actually encountering them and can differentiate between other species of catfish that share their habitat. When a channel cat detects another in its territory, it can mark its territory by altering its scent through a chemical change in the composition of the amino acids in its mucus. This scent does not linger long and is used as a challenge to the intruder, telling it to either leave or be prepared to fight. The change in scent may be regulated by club cells, specialized pheromone-producing cells found in the skin. The cells don't directly open to the water. It is hypothesized that injury may expose the club cells and cause them to release their contents. This would inform other catfish in the area of the injury, which could lead to a change in the local dominance hierarchy. Sound is produced through stridulation: clicking and grinding the bones of the pectoral girdle and the spine that leads the pectoral fins. By moving the base of the spine over the pectoral girdle, the fish can make a variety of noises. These noises vary in based on the movement of the fin and based on size and possibly sex, allowing channel catfish to learn about others that they hear. Channel cats will use noises to communicate dominance with each other and to startle predators, allowing for an escape while alerting any other catfish in the area of the predator's presence. If you've every caught a catfish and heard it make a croaking noise, now you know what's happening. Curiously, individual channel catfish will have a preference for which fin they use to make noise, with the majority favoring their right fin. This could be analogous to right and left handedness in humans.

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(Video: a catfish that has been caught by an angler. It is being held by a tool and is making croaking noises. End ID)

Channel catfish spawn in spring and summer, when the water is consistently warm. Males will look for a cavity of some kind, which could be a crevice in rocks, a bank underhand, a spot beneath a log or other structure, or artificial objects like the inside of litter. He will clean the area of silt and mud to expose a hard bottom and then release pheromones to attract a female. Other males may attempt to drive him from his nest to claim it for themselves, leading to fights. When a female is interested, the two will enter the nest and remain there for up to 6 hours as eggs are laid. Females can release 2,000 to 4,000 eggs per pound of her weight and will do so in batches, with the male fertilizing them as they are laid. The eggs are yellowish and stick to hard surfaces. Once the eggs are laid, the male will chase the female from the nest and guard the eggs until they hatch. Until then, he will fan the eggs with his tail to keep oxygenated flowing over them and aggressively attack any perceived threat. Channel catfish in the wild only mate once per year, though males raised in captivity may attempt multiple matings. Larvae are hatched with the egg sac still attacked and survive on yolk for a few days until it falls off. After that, they have an algae-based diet that will gradually shift to carnivory as they age. Young channel catfish are a yellowish-brown with dark spots along the body while adults are a muddy brown all over.

(Image: a juvenile channel catfish held by me. It is a miniature version of an adult, with proportionately longer barbels and eyes. The body is a yellowish color. It is smaller than the thumb in the image. End ID

Channel catfish are classified as least concern by the IUCN, meaning they are not in danger of extinction. Channel catfish are the most widely distributed and populous catfish in North America. In the USA, channel catfish are a major food source and the channel catfish aquaculture industry is the largest aquaculture in the country. Channel catfish are raised in artificial ponds or other structures and are usually harvested for their meat at two years old. That's a lot for an animal that tastes like congealed air. Channel catfish are also a popular sport fish for their edibility and the fight they put up when hooked. Their use as food and for sport is a major reason for their introduction outside of their range. This has led to them becoming an invasive species in multiple countries, where they outcompete native species.

(Image: a POV shot of someone wearing rubber waders holding a channel catfish just above the water. End ID)

#wet beast wednesday #channel catfish #catfish #fish #bony fish #fishposting #fishblr #freshwater fish #biology #ecology #zoology #animal facts #informative #educational #image described #Youtube

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kirain · 1 year ago

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I know you've said you're not into shipping, but if you HAD to ship bg3 companions (you do, I'm saying you have to😝) which npcs would you ship them with?

Well, since you're forcing me. 😅

...This was actually harder than I thought it would be, since I don't usually consider ships. But I think I'm happy with my choices.

In my opinion, Lae'zel and Varsh Ko'kuu would make a fantastic couple. Personally, I prefer the ending where Lae'zel returns to the Astral Plane to usher in a new age for the githyanki, hopefully turning them from their violent and conquerous ways. To do that she'll need support, hence her call for rebellion. I like to think Ko'kuu would be one of the first to join her, as the Narrator tells us he's grown "tired"; likely of his people's brutal and callous ways. He's clearly diplomatic and maternal, as well as open-minded enough to trust an outsider with his young, so he'd be a perfect ally. As he becomes Lae'zel's righthand man during the civil war, they would naturally form a bond that blooms from respect and admiration to romantic. He would also make an excellent father to Xan.

This ship I don't think I even need to explain. Karlach and Dammon are absolutely perfect for each other. They respect each other, they like each other, they understand each other's struggles, and they're both kind, caring, optimistic people. Karlach not only fantasizes about Dammon in her origin run, but they also have an adorable handholding scene once he upgrades her engine. So in relation to her somewhat disappointing ending, I like to think Dammon discovers a cure for her condition and follows her to Avernus, where they break into Zariel's forge, construct a permanent upgrade that negates the deadly heat inside her, and then escape back to the material plane. After that, the two would become inseparable. They would start a new life in Baldur's Gate, with Dammon continuing his work as a respected blacksmith and Karlach becoming an avid defender of the city.

This ship was actually my friend's idea, and I believe she's planning on exploring it further on her own blog. As we discussed it, we both agreed Sebastian would probably hate Astarion and want blood, even knowing he had no choice but to follow Cazador's demands; over a century of misery and torment leaves little room for forgiveness. After his release, I think he'd track Astarion down and try to kill him in a blind act of revenge, but hesitate, failing the task. Still a sweet and delicate soul, he'd fall to his knees in tears, lamenting everything he's lost. Plagued with guilt upon seeing his broken state, Astarion would comfort Sebastian, knowing what it's like to feel nothing but fear and hatred. Things would be rocky at first, slow, messy—but eventually Sebastian would forgive Astarion, falling in love with him all over again. And with that closure, Astarion would finally be able to forgive himself.

To me, this ship makes the most sense (and may also be the sweetest), as Shadowheart and Nocturne already have a shared history and they've both suffered under Shar. When we meet Nocturne, she implies she's grown wary of following the dark goddess and her cult, but she's too afraid to leave. So after defeating the Absolute, I like to imagine Shadowheart rekindles her relationship with Nocturne, eventually turning her away from Shar and convincing her to leave the sanctum. With her once best friend's guidance, Nocturne would adjust well to the world outside, growing close to Shadowheart once again and rebuilding her lost memories, as well as making new ones. Together they would travel the world, forever wrapped in each other's loving embrace.

I fell in love with Exxvikyap the moment I met her, and I think she'd be perfect for Wyll. He needs someone who can match his excitable, charismatic energy—and she definitely would. Whether Wyll follows in his father's footsteps or follows Karlach to Avernus, at some point I like to think he'd return to Baldur's Gate. Once he does, he'd find himself visiting the Rivington General for a new weapon. As she helps him find a sword best suited to his fighting style, they'd strike up a conversation. Wyll would find her warm and bubbly personality both infectious and endearing, which would lead to him visiting the shop again. And again. And again. And again. Slowly, he would begin courting the sweet dragonborn woman, and she would happily accept his advances. Eventually she would quit, joining Wyll on his many adventures and defending the Sword Coast from any who would threaten to harm it.

This ship I waffled on for a while, because personally I didn't see it; especially since I think Gale needs someone who's compassionate and affectionate. But then I realised Rolan is both of those things. At least by Act 2. He's sassy and snappy and self-important, but he loves his siblings—to the point that he was willing to risk his career to stick by them at the Grove, and enough to risk his life by searching for them in the Shadowlands. He also saved the orphans, even though he whinged about it. He wants to be independent, but he later learns to accept help, which leads me to Gale. At some point, I like to think Gale visits Ramazith's Tower, looking for a book. He bumps into Rolan, who's struggling to cast an advanced spell that summons a hoard of angry mephits. Chaos ensues, causing Gale and Rolan to team up and reverse the damage. Rolan would beat himself up over the incident, but Gale would encourage him, teaching him the proper way to cast the spell. From that point on, their relationship would blossom in ways neither of them expected. Together they would find a perfect balance, propping each other up while also keeping each other humble.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion #karlach #lae'zel #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #varsh ko'kuu #dammon #Sebastian #Nocturne #bg3 sebastian #bg3 nocturne #exxvikyap #bg3 rolan #rolan #shipping

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slavghoul · 2 years ago

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Interview from Upset Magazine 6/2023

Words: Steven Loftin

Like an apparition manifesting within a dense fog, it was through radio static that Swedish rockers Ghost were formed. In the kindergarten he attended as a young boy, Tobias Forge found himself enamoured with the music crackling through the little toy speakers. From this point forward, he began picking apart the notes and melodies - his journey toward the lore and canon coming into focus as he sat, trying to figure out how this black magic could be summoned.

While it would be many years before he would don his garb as Papa Emeritus, the essence of what his future would sound like was being set through his exposure to a wide variety of music. If any proof were needed, just look to the impressive list of covers Ghost have put their ghastly mark upon, including 2016's 'Popestar' EP, which included the band's takes on Echo & The Bunnymen ('Nocturnal Me') and Simian Mobile Disco ('I Believe').

Ghost's latest EP is another covers bonanza. A five-piece offering of Tobias's backstory, 'Phantomime' plays out like a Greatest Hits radio playlist - a fitting throwback to Tobias' first dalliances with music. Of course, when a group more aligned to the metal/hard rock community bust out covers, including Genesis and Tina Turner, eyebrows are raised. To this reaction, Tobias scoffs. "In 1991, Genesis was one of the biggest bands on the planet! That was a huge hit. In the mid-80s, when I had an older teenage brother who rented every VHS movie that came out, of course, we saw the fucking Thunderdome, and that was a huge hit, and it's still being played on Swedish radio. It's an evergreen; it's not an eclectic choice at all," he declares. "I grew up listening to Stranglers because my brother liked them. What else do we have, Iron Maiden - I mean, are you kidding? I'm a metalhead!"

Originally conceived during the sessions for their fifth album, last year's 'Impera', there were two folders on his computer's desktop: one named 'Impera', the other simply 'Covers'. As the ideas for 'Impera' grew, Tobias would enter his usual routine of working on a cover or two. "At any point, when you lose a little wind in writing your own things, it's quite nice to say, 'Today let's go in and work on the covers'; you can choose anything you want, you can work on absolutely anything you want. And you don't have to finish it, you don't have to release it, you don't have to do anything, but just continue working."

He likens it to the freedom of being a theatre owner who, instead of trying to pen the next greatest Broadway phenomenon, opts to have a go at something already timeless and perfected.

"Maybe you're like, 'Okay, so this fall we're just going to do a reinterpretation of Hamlet instead, that's going to be fine, and that keeps everyone working, and that keeps a project moving along! And I find a similar thing with working on covers. So as I was writing "Impera', the covers folder was also growing exponentially and at a point. I had this idea that was going to be a full-length album."

With COVID restrictions meaning the original producer for 'Impera' was stuck in the US, Tobias had to source a replacement. It would be Klas Åhlund who stepped up to the plate. But, on one condition. "He was pretty upfront. He was like. Yeah, I only want to make the record; I don't want to work on covers," Tobias remembers "Fine, fine, fine, that's fine." he shrugs. "So, after the 'Impera' recording was done, I felt as if making a completely different, whole record again: I didn't have time for that. I didn't have the energy for that. But once I trimmed down the number of songs to only these five to make a very rocky record, it loosened up the screws a little bit for me in terms of like, "Okay, so now I know what the EP is going to be - it's going to be a full, full-throttle rock one."

Ditching some rumoured softer covers, including U2, Misfits, and Motörhead. 'Phantomime is instead a delectable slice of Ghost doing what Ghost do best: creating theatrically big rock. It's Tobias's mark upon some bonafide classics, including Iron Maiden's 'Phantom of the Opera' which feels as befitting to Ghost as it does seeing Papa Emeritus kick the bucket ready for his next iteration. While the focus was on creating this small dose of Tobias's musical DNA, it also served another purpose; to simply be "not very complicated." The project began with the mindset of "we can make this recording loosely - quick but stress-free - as opposed to making a record which is your hard fifth record that needs to live up to certain standards. So it was just a very inspired, very simple recording, actually."

After the complexities of 'Impera' which wound up requiring two studios simultaneously running in parallel "to be able to work efficiently" - Ghost was morphing into a taxing experience for the band leader, "It was just a bigger thing [and] way more stressful."

Deciding to strip that covers folder down to the five tracks, by all accounts, 'Phantomime was a measured and reserved effort. "It ended up being me, an engineer, and an occasional musician coming in and doing something. It was so much looser, so much more mentally Feng Shui," he smiles, relief glowing in his voice. "And I think that that reflected a little bit on the two different records. They're meant to be related - they are definitely related - they were made roughly in the same time, but they're completely different things."

'Phantomime' plays out like a ghoulish social commentary. Starting with a searing rendition of Televison's 'See No Evil, the journey traverses the scourge of Televangelism (Genesis' Jesus He Knows Me') with a delightfully-fitting NSFW video, the instant gratification humans require to feel (The Stranglers' Hanging Around"); the pull back into cruel reality (Phantom Of The Opera"), and the resulting undying hope from a degraded society (Tina Turner's 'We Don't Need Another Hero"). Each offering is bolstered with Ghost's dramatic, theatric rock licks and Tobias's powerhouse vocals.

With 'Phantomime' in the bag and the European leg of the 'Impera' tour imminent (Tobias is currently holed up in preparation), the idea of reflecting on how he came to go from a young boy listening to the static sounds of pop hits on the radio to orchestrating not only a feverishly adored band and its lore but finding the capacity to embrace his inner music nerd, couldn't be more timely. Tobias's relationship with music has always been one of intrigue. He's a pop songwriter with the ambition and ideas of a stadium rock band, which, in essence, explains perfectly why Ghost can sit in a unique, exponentially growing and expanding space.

"My earliest inclination of wanting to transform into something else was definitely Twisted Sister," he recalls. "You know, "I Want To Rock' and 'We're Not Going To Take It' - that was a huge record in 1984, and in 1984, I was three years old," he says. "My brother was 16, so everything that was going on pop-culturally amongst teenagers was happening in my home."

It was thanks to his brother that much of Tobias's relationship with music was formed. He's introduced him to various giants of the time, like tectonic plates being pushed around, impacting and shaping his musical landscape. Translating for young Tobias the attitude of punk at the time, as well as everything else that was 'in', he remembers, "When I was a kid, and he was supposed to babysit me, as a pacifier he would put me in front of [Sex Pistols mockumentary film] 'The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle"," he laughs. "And then when that was over, he would just switch to [X-rated cartoon] Fritz the Cat. And I loved that stuff, of course. That was as much [about] the expression and the attitude. Of course, I loved the songs, but it was also filtered or combined with big songs for me." Those big songs ("Men At Work 'Down Under'," he initially cites, "those sort of songs still have a unique place in my in my writing") would eventually entwine with his darker side that he'd explore as he grew older. "Whilst my whole adolescence was completely in the name of extreme metal, I always had a very soft spot for Top 40 rock and pop radio always," Tobias explains. "And I've listened to that all my life. So it's almost equal portions of Venom as it is anything. that was on the radio."

Also, witnessing shock and glam-rock bands explode intrigued Tobias. He became swept away in the idea that not only could you push a boundary to its absolute limits with convictions and over-the-top grandiosity, but you could do so with songs that quantifiably bop. But, as time has gone onto prove, it wasn't pop music that enamoured Tobias enough that he wanted to become a pop star. It's the mythology and mystery that has become his calling card.

Tobias remained an enigma under the disguise of an evolving form of the iconic Papa Emeritus (now in his fourth incarnation) until 2017, after a lawsuit from a previous iteration of his backing band's rotating cast, the Nameless Ghouls. Visual and video components to releases are often hoovered up by the fandom, stripped apart for meaning and potential. Instagram posts are referred to as a '[Message From The Clergy]" (a phrase later claimed for 2022's Best Of playlist), and lest it is forgotten, the Ghost 'Grucifix' - the prominent crucifix deconstructed into Tobias's gothic 'G' logo - which ties together the vision, religious imagery and satire that would become a core part of the Ghost experience.

His musical ambition and education colliding in the middle of his Venn diagram between dark metal and pop magic is thanks to the likes of the aforementioned Twisted Sister and W.A.S.P., as well as his teen years in the black metal community. "Their first record was also a huge impact in Swedish media," Tobias remembers. "There was this big sort of Satanic panic thing going on at the time in the fall of 1984. Where you had essentially all those things happening. You had Mötley Crüe 'Shout At The Devil', which came out a year earlier, and they were there because they toured with Iron Maiden in 1984, so there was a lot of focus on these shock-rock bands. I saw that as a kid, and I was immediately blown away - it was the coolest thing I've ever seen. And I think that that was the trigger that made me identify as that is how I want to express myself."

Decoding the songs he'd hear also became an integral part of that expression. "That was the only thing I did for years before I started writing my own songs." Recalling his time in kindergarten, they had a piano and guitar, which Tobias became infatuated with. Instead of playing with the other children, he would find himself enraptured, listening to the radio or flipping over whichever cassette happened to be loaded at the time. He would then imitate the sounds he was soaking up. "A lot of those early beginnings of how to learn and how I've learned how to understand music filters through everything I do now," he explains.

The early records he'd find himself trying to unpack included KISS 'Alive' and Pink Floyd's 'Piper At The Gates Of Dawn' - disparate matches, but undoubtedly Ghost fuel with hard rock melodies and psychedelic tendencies. "I had the first and the second Pink Floyd on a double LP that was called 'A Nice Pair'. And that's the shit that I sat and listened to and played guitar to," he says proudly. "That's weird music, that's really weird chord sequences and melodies that sort of went nowhere. And, that coloured me a lot in my vision of this is how you write a pop song. Of course, I knew more conventional writing as well. But I figured that this resonates with me, and I want to write more like that."

Tobias is the first to admit that the influence his musical exposure has had on him isn't the most straightforward. "For all the years that I was in bands, up until Ghost, basically when I was in bands not doing well, I got a lot of, I wouldn't say stick, but it was always like, 'You write weird songs, there's something weird about them, and it will never really become anything because it has that sort of weirdness to it".

As he grew, the songs he'd heard reflected this inherent strangeness he'd constructed. Before the days of mass formulaic pop factories, the music emanating from the radio abided by the strictest rule of needing to at least be approachable, but within these confines, artists of the 70s and 80s would push the envelope as far as they could. Citing Nik Kershaw's 'The Riddle' as one example, "Holy shit, if you would have taken that song and taken it to a chord structure masterclass amongst pop writers now who want to write songs for Miley Cyrus or The Weeknd or any of that sort of level they would say, no, no, no, no, that this will never work. It's too strange. It's too weird. You can't do that; it doesn't have the normal chord progression.

"There are a lot of songs from the 80s that are like that," he reckons, "compared to the now, more informative way of writing, the 80s was braver actually, and it worked well. And those songs are evergreens in a way that a lot of the top radio shit from seven years ago is forgotten, and that's the stuff that I grew up with when I started playing the guitar."

Having made that inner sanctum, he would enter kindergarten a reality, one where he can explore those recesses of his mind shaken by the musical earthquakes he experienced; now, he's matured and deeply entrenched in the reality. "Throughout the modern day of pop writing, I know a few professional pop songwriters, and we continue having these conversations because in pop," he says, "where some of them work prolifically on really high releases, they're like, it's strange how the business wants everything to be so informative. Everybody wants a weird song, but still, all the big songs are usually very, very formatted [and] very, very simple."

While unpacking the songs he'd heard back in the 80s offered Tobias a chance to comprehend what makes a good song, it, more importantly, helped him to set out doing it on his own. When digging into crafting a new Ghost number, Tobias explains that "each new song is a little bit like virgin territory with its own riddle to be solved, and is always a combination of the horror of maybe not solving the puzzle, with the thrill when you do. And it's never easy because each new song needs something new. And so you constantly need to feed your ability with knowledge about how other things are."

Breaking it down into a figurative example, he likens it to being like a detective. "I'm assuming that part of being a great detective is to constantly have an open mind, but also constantly learning about human behaviour and wha people do. If you just had 100 forensic classes, but you know nothing about people and how they live their lives, it's gonna be hard to solve crimes." The same rings true for writers who have to read to improve and further understand language, while comedians pull from real-life experiences - music is no different. Tobias's early days of stripping down songs to their basic parts and then rebuilding them have remained a constant endeavour. "But that's how you write songs as well; you go and absorb new things."

The covers process, as mentioned, is a release for Tobias. When things are stuck when trying to piece together a new chapter for the Ghost bible, a cover offers up a chance for something lighter. "Working on covers can be equally euphoric," he confirms, "because it's fun to understand a song whereas, on the other hand, it can be almost demoralising because you're like, I can't believe that this song is so much better than anything that I've written! And it's so much easier. It's so simple."

"I find myself overcomplicating things often, but you might not hear the complicated detour that I took to end up at the more understandable, straighter version that ended up being the actual recording," he continues. "That's a never-ending struggle because that's how it's supposed to be. It's not like you write the one song. I don't think I know anyone or know of anyone who's content with the idea of having written one huge song. And then you know, okay, that's nirvana for you. You don't write the one song the same way that if you're a comedian, it's not like, 'Oh, I just told the funniest joke. So now I'm done".

While Tobias is one for wanting to keep the ball rolling and on a constant endeavour to continue his musical evolution, he knows there's a limit. Every release of Ghost must have a purpose. Nodding to the 60s method of firing singles out on all fronts, eventually compiling them for a full-length release, Tobias acknowledges his relationship with his fans is based on a more long-term understanding. "That's not how we do things; we make an album, and off of that album, there are singles - it's a 70s/80s thinking. And I don't want to refrain from that - I don't want too many singles to be these autonomous little creatures."

But the world is different now. It's a Wild West where being in the masses' consciousness is key, so things may have to change for him. Admitting that right now, he knows he's post-release of Ghost's last canon entry, 'Impera', which arrived back in 2022, and while 'Phantomime' is a reasonable enough bridge, sooner or later, he's going to have to play the game of ensuring Ghost ramp up. Earlier this year, Ghost collaborated with Def Leppard's Joe Elliott on a re-release of 'Impera' cut 'Spillways' which, while a fantastic addition to their arsenal, adds to the same notion Tobias is fearful of. "I'm slowly preparing for making a new record that's going to come out in 2024, which is way too long for the current contemporary music climate; you need to be ever-present," the last phrase hanging in the air ominously.

That doesn't mean he has to lower his standards, however. No Ghost release will exist just for content's sake. Everything must have its place. He even reckons a 14-track album is "a lot of music", and he still sees an album as being "22 minutes of music per side" - true to form, currently, no standard issue of any Ghost album breaches 12 tracks. He's even ready to aim for the likes of The Rolling Stones and The Beatles by swiftly lobbing a couple of spicy takes out. "Look, man, I don't even think that 'Exile on Main Street' is that good. Not even the fucking White album is that great - break it up! Both of those records would have been better if they were trimmed down to singular records."

That pop mind breaking through; Tobias is someone who knows that music is entertainment. Certainly, a medium which often leads to more bulky connotations, but it must entertain. It's why he doesn't pay any mind to those naysayers that yearn for Ghost to be more metal or to follow a different path. This is Tobias's game; we're just privy to the sermon. These days the floodgates are open and, when compared to previous decades, as Tobias remembers it, "you had to buy your own records. Whatever additional music you got, that wasn't maybe heard on the TV or the radio, when you took something from someone else, was usually a choice, so music styles could in some way be a little bit more insular back then just because you weren't subjected to as much." He mentions his beloved death metal as being a signifier of the changes happening. "Back in the day, when I was starting listening to extreme metal, that was completely embraced by a certain little subculture or group of mostly teenagers and 20-somethings. Whereas in the 2000s, when Vice started doing black metal reporting, all of a sudden you have indie personalities who were fans of Darkthrone, and so, obviously, what ended up that turned into this fusion, which was a positive and very natural thing."

This cultural shift is another reason Ghost's space is widening and its success growing. "Nowadays, people are a little bit more open," he admits. But, with this comes issues. "As time has progressed, metal and hard rock, as well as most genres that have been around for a while, [they've] gone from this youth culture to a conservative institution because so many of the fans are now aged." The passage of time waits for no one. But, more presciently for culture, it also means our understanding of what is 'good' and what should be where is moulded differently to when we were younger. "Unfortunately, that happens to most people regardless of who you were when you were 20," Tobias reckons, "or your ideals when you're like 40/50/60 years old. Your brain starts morphing into a slightly more conservative, slightly more nostalgic... You don't want things to change."

Tobias is the first to hold his hands up and admit the same has happened to him. He yearns for 1984 and even 1990-94. He would even be happy with 1987, back to those days with the crackling radio and a childlike spirit. "That would be so much cooler. I loved that way more than in this day and age. But I can't sit around and mope about that because it's not a problem that it's not 1987."

'Phantomime' is proof nostalgia can be a useful tool. It fuels with passion, and Ghost is Tobias's Neverland. "There's such a debate about what we are and why that is." Ghost are a band that, thanks to Tobias's musical education, transcend time. They exist on their own plain and with the evergreen, timeless sounds of yesteryear echoing around Tobias's head, long may Papa reign with his gloved melodic iron fist.

#the band ghost #tobias forge #interview #really good one 👍

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crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf · 2 months ago

Text

Disgrace Chapter 11: Crosshair x F!OC

They close the distance between themselves, and draw closer to the end of their journey. Though the hostile terrain is rough, and the fauna is vicious- good company can make the way pleasant. Pleasant enough that one might loath that it should end. Regret that is should end. There's a lesson in the journey, that if you give yourself to someone who has nothing, you risk becoming their everything.

Chapter Specific Warnings: Smut, Vore, Blood, Gore, PiV, Power Struggle Sex, Overstimulation, Spanking, Teasing, Angst

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Authors Notes: This chapter closes the second arc of the story! Had a lot of fun with the Fauna in this chapter.

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Word Count: 6108

Dynamic: Princess x Guard, Speed running Co-dependancy, A Mangy Cat and his Aggressive little Chihuahua. She's a damsel, she's in distress- she can handle it. Murder is his love language.

<-Previous Chapter - Read On Ao3 {START HERE}

Music Inspo- Source, Fever the Ghost

Listen on Spotify - Listen on Youtube

Chapter 11: The Source

The speeder raced across the rocky terrain bathed in the light of permadawn. The tunnels had brought us about halfway through the valley and after some time on the improvised road we were starting to finally find ourselves in shallower ravines, tips of the Trimecca farms more visible on the horizon. If we could keep our pace we'd reach the borders in a day and a half or so.

The radio signal kicked in a while ago, giving us glimpses of race scores, weather, and entertainment. Cross was lazing in the passengers side, taking in the semi-nocturnal mammals that skittered away through the brittle vinescape as we tore past; His left hand casually draped across my thigh, tapping along with the beat humming through the holo waves.

He was occasionally grilling my vocabulary, Ga'haiian words that sparked his interest as they came through on the speaker.

“Cas nan’beh?”

“Nan’beh is kind of like top choices… popular, Cas is our word for music,”

“Mm

…

What’s Ku tar’nah?”

“Hearts chosen destiny… or souls destiny, Ku is hard to translate…”

His eyes wandered off again,

“What does li’nen mean?”

That wasn't part of the program, and the poorly disguised attempt to be sly was amusing.

“Treasure… or precious, I suppose. It's a term of endearment,”

“How's it differ from li’ha?”

I stiffened slightly. The only person to call me that recently had been Bly’ju… maybe he picked it up in passing…

“The ‘ha suffix changes it to possessive, ‘my treasure,’ or ‘my precious’,”

“Is that so…”

Off in thought again.

“Enough Ga'haiian Crosshair, don't you have anything to teach me instead?”

The toothpick in his mouth swished from side to side as he seemed to deliberate what to give me.

“Cyare…”

He finally whispered, a slight blush on his cheekbones barely visible in the blue green light. I tried it on for size,

“Cyare… what does it mean,”

…

“Flat snout,”

I snorted, almost choking on my own spit.

“Flat snout?”

“Mm”

“Bantha dung”

He shrugged, though he looked more amused than anything. Even daring to swear on it,

“By Be’llahl.”

As if Be’llahl didn't delight in pranks. His demeanor was only making me more suspicious as he tried to suppress a chuckle.

“I give you our words for precious and you trade me… flat snout?”

“Why not?”

“Are you always this full of shyte or do I just bring something special out in you?”

My gaze flicked across the car, searching for the smirk I knew I'd find there.

Something caught my eyes as they slid across the rear view, drawing my attention away from my snickering passenger. A small shift of dust and rock tumbling into the channel behind us.

A crash of stone and earth ripped through the air as the creature slid off the valley wall and into the reflection of the rear view. At first no more than a dark, shiny blur. It uncoiled in a flash, its long, scaly tail whipping about as it found its balance. Sharp taloned feet dug into the soil propelling the monster towards us with powerful force as it shrieked with its pouched throat and wide toothy beak.

A cockerex.

“Aw varp,”

I tried topping our speed, the pedal clanking against the floor with the force of my boot slamming it down. Sparing a glance down to the fuel gauge I tried to not panic at the low reading. We'd been driving for days and have really been pushing the limits of the reserves.

Crosshair spun in the seat the second the rumble of the ground registered through our gravity propulsion. His helmet was already shoved on and he was swinging his side arm up to aim behind us at the massive beast of prey.

“Cross, wait!”

The bolt rang out, bouncing off the iridescent blue-green feathers. He ducked as it came back at us.

“Would've been good to know,”

As if he had given me the time…

“You need the higher caliber!”

He nodded, climbing into the back with an easy leap grabbing for the Firepuncher, swinging it up on his shoulder-

The cockerex lunged, teeth snapping onto the rifles barrel and with a gutteral warble. Cross tried to squeeze off a shot, but the barrel was pointed into the rock wall; the bolt crashed uselessly into the rocky craig. The sharp teeth made a high pitched screech as they scratched the metal muzzle, gouging it slightly as the creature pulled its head back with a snap. It easily yanked the blaster from Crosshair's grip, the gun flipping into the air, end over end before being chomped down and swallowed with a loud gulp.

That's not good.

“Oh no you don't,”

Crosshair was up, leaping over the seats to the trunk. A hard kick that jostled the speeder, propelling himself off the bumper-

To fall into the open pouch through the screaming jaws.

“Crosshair!”

The thing gulped and he was gone.

What the kark what the Kark what the Kark!

I didn't have time to process what just happened. The steering jerked as I tried to stay ahead of the cockerex and off the valley walls. The whole speeder lurched as the beast’s narrow head lowered and butted against the jagged trunk, forcing me to swerve haphazardly to correct. Dread gripped me as the rumble of taloned feet encroached on my position.

What the varp am I supposed to do now?

The valley wall thinned and dropped to one side, opening up to a deeper ravine. The monster shrieked excitedly as it swung its head down again, smacking the back of the speeder so that it swung erratically. I could feel the slide, the speeder losing traction with the upper path and falling down the rocky slope with a grinding shriek. The engine sputtered and cut out as I came to rest at the bottom of the ditch, thunking down into the dirt with a harsh jolt.

A large shadow passed over head, I looked up at the grasping talons and open jaws reaching for me as the cockerex leaped off the edge, hungry for more-

Wrrrp-BANG!

A glow in its belly bloated outward, then- exploded. With a sickening rip and wet guttural warble the cockerex was in pieces- a tall silhouette falling from the ruined organic matter.

I laughed in disbelief… an amusement cut short as a sheet of gore slapped over myself and the speeder, followed by a rocking THUMP as Cross’s sticky, disheveled form smacked the back of my seat, bouncing him into the back with a groan.

I wiped goop from my eyes, spitting the foul slime with a sputter.

“Y-you alright back there?”

“I'll recover,”

“Good… otherwise I might feel bad for being pissed, What were you thinking?!”

He held the rifle up triumphantly.

“It got the Firepuncher, I needed to get it back,”

“We could have outrun it… what if that hadn't worked?”

“It worked,”

“You could always get another gun,”

“Look here, princess,”

He hoisted himself up, standing over me in the driver's seat. Pulling his side arm back out of its holster to thump into the passenger side.

“Out of charge,”

He pulled my side arm and checked it.

“Almost drained, and my packs spent, we lose the Firepuncher and we're defenseless,”

“Still,”

But my grumbling puttered out, the slick mess of slime coating me the priority now.

There wasn't much to help, settling on the work blankets to try and wipe the viscera off of me. At least I hadn't been wearing the jacket, which was mostly spared where it had fallen to the floor. Even with my best efforts I was streaked with grime from head to toe.

Glorious. How fun.

Crosshair wasn't fairing much better. Having been inside the thing, every joint and crevice of his kit was contaminated.

“We're gonna need to find a geyser field, I'm not walking into Sohn like this, Cross, can you see any steam? Smell something metallic?”

“I can't smell anything right now…”

The man finally looked like he was regretting his decision as the gunk started to dry on us. Good. That was an incredibly stupid move. I sighed to try and release some of my indignation.

It was time to test the engine. Tapping the cords under the dash together, the speeder made a pathetic whine, a dry chug and then died good and proper. I closed my eyes and thanked the thing for holding up as long as it did.

Groaning, I made preparations to leave while Crosshair assessed the damage to his guns and armor. I reached into the back, pulling my bag out from… what exactly had it pinned this time?

It looked like a large chunk of stone had made part of the journey with us, partially cracked in the back seat. The outer shape was carved into smooth flat sides, a keystone in the arch that held the crystal port. Something glinted in the cracked stone. I reached in, pushing the broken rock till the cracked sides fell open on the uneven floor. What looked like a small piece of jewelry fell out, the cord old and frayed threaded through a metal rod. Picking it up, it glinted in the meager sunlight.

I shrugged and slipped the string over my head, grabbing what was left of our bag of rations. Crosshair was already undoing the cords on the trunk, readying our spare water.

“There's steam rising to the east, about two clicks,”

“Pedestrian, please,”

“Uh… a short way that direction…”

Bag hoisted up my shoulder, we took the hover dolly with the water filled fuel containers between us and turned towards his heading. I couldn't see anything but the glowing north but had no doubts we'd find what we were looking for.

Cross was alert, keeping his rifle ready as we started to trek over the arid landscape.

“Watch those brambles,”

He paused, steering us around a thorny patch, looking over the purple and green spikes.

“Widow's Thistle?”

“You guessed it,”

“I didn't think it'd grow so thick,”

“Legend says it's the embodiment of the bitterness of all the war widows who cried here,”

He looked at the wide valley, the dips on the sandy rocks between plateaus that became more spars the more north you traveled.

“This is a battlefield?”

“Mm, from ancient times, All life an Ga’ha originated in these valleys… then, the Trimecca Farms were built, false mountains that stole the light from the valley… and then war,”

“That’s a varp of an escalation,”

His eyes took in the ghosts we walked over, letting them haunt him for a moment. Insects darted around the thistles, chattering wings in glittering color… their beauty almost disrespectful to the grief these plants supposedly held. I succumbed to the bitterness of wounds that weren't mine, allowing it to flow through my words.

“Well… it wasn't the poor and disenfranchised that built the farms, and with less light the native crops struggled. With only a select few welcome in the new civilization… Others starved, and then were crushed beneath the boots of the well fed,

The founding of Sohn destroyed the valley, the Widow's Thistle thrives in the lower light… that's all,”

We tracked in uncomfortable silence. Not between us, but in the itchy hardened crust we had developed. I sighed tremendously in relief when the steam billowing into the air became close enough even I could see it.

“You think here is good?”

Crosshair eagerly eyed the first spring that came into view.

“Have to check first…”

I cast my eyes about until I spotted a pile of discarded bones from some small animal. That should do just fine. Picking them up gingerly, I stepped to the edge of the simmering water and dropped one in. There was a soft sizzle and the bone melted.

“Not this one,”

“That's obvious…”

I was hopeful though, and jogged ahead to the next steaming pool, dropping in little bones with Crosshair trailing behind. His hand dropped on my shoulder suddenly pulling me back from where I was about to step from the cover of the low rock walls.

“There's… things ahead.”

Looking up from where I was counting hot springs, I relaxed.

“It's okay, they're friendly,”

The they in question was a heard of Gazyll’brah. The tall, six legged equines with coarse, blue striped hair stood gracefully in the flat clearing. A few foals played in the water of the surrounding springs, breaing into the rare soft breeze.

“They know which pools are safe, and they'll let us know if a cockerex gets close, c’mon,”

I led a weary Crosshair down into the clearing to a smaller, steaming crater of water. Dropping a bone in just to be safe, I smiled as it fell to the bottom of the clean pool.

“This one's good,”

Turning, I found his eyes fixed on the Gazies as they grazed, peeling off the bark of the dahr trees that speckled the canyon side.

“Why aren't they afraid of us?”

“Well, there's no truly wild Gazyll'brahs… they're all from released domestic lines, this close to the farms they're pretty used to humans,”

Satisfied with that, his pack hit the dirt as he started to strip.

~~~

The water sloshed over the side as Cross thrust into me again, making me gasp loud enough to spook the foal that had wandered near. His mounting had been rough, and abrupt, taking me hard from behind.

“No warning, Crosshair?”

The surprise was feigned, I had been teasing him. His hips pulled back as he hunched over my back where I was bent over the edge of the pool. He rutted against me, forcefully, as if to teach me a lesson. I had him wrapped around my fingers. The man was panting hard, lost in the lust that had set him into action,

“You think you've… tamed me, princess?”

His groin slammed back into me and I groaned, the walls of my cunt gripping down on his shaft as the sensation ripped through my awakening nerves. Even starting cold he was amazing, and I sighed letting myself focus on how he felt inside me, my Crosshair.

“Flaunt that perfect ass of yours and expect me to behave myself?”

“Oh?”

I tried to control my breathing, my voice even,

“You can't be that bad, if this is the extent of your… misbehaving,”

Smack

His palm came down on my ass hard, forcing a small yelp from me. I caught his smirk in the corner of my eye as he leaned in to purr against my nape,

“Careful now, I'm starting to think you're riling me up on purpose,”

I was.

Bracing my hands on the rocky ledge I pushed back against him, taking back control with my own rocking hips angling him deeper than he was managing before.

“Come on, soldier, you've kriffed me harder than this,”

He cut the groan pulled from him short, growling at my challenge. His hand found its way around my neck, hoisting me against his chest. The firm hold aided him as he pulled me down onto his thrusting cock. His free hand yanked my thighs wider, dropping my pelvis lower. My eyes rolled back a moment as he bottomed out, hilt pressed against my entrance, eliciting a strangled cry of pleasure. I found leverage and bounced my hips; regaining composure and forcing his rhythm, feeling him shudder, the vibration of a suppressed moan in his chest.

In desperation his hand dipped between my legs while the other tightened around my neck holding me taught and still. Strong fingers strummed through my folds, flicking my clit in a careful rhythm making me gasp. He cooed into my ear in delight as I trembled from the attention, his hand slowing to circle the sensitive bud of nerves, trying to steal my control again. It wasn't gonna be that easy though, not with how he rushed in.

“You think you can toy with me, Tahny?”

I rocked my hips against his hold, riding that edge but not letting him push me over. Turning to plant a soft kiss against his jaw, I whispered peevishly,

“I know I can,”

“Y-you- kriff~”

His breath caught with a grunt and he twitched inside me, cumming as his hips pressed his cock deep into me.

I win.

I let him wrap his arms around me, pulling us back together to sit on the edge of the spring we had been bathing in. His breath was hot against my neck as he nuzzled into it. Relaxed. His mistake.

As he had studied me over the past few days, I had made some observations about him too. Drunk, horny, or high he was ever the living weapon… but for the next few minutes he was just like any man,

Helpless.

I rolled my hips grinding against him still sheathed in me, causing his breath to hiss between his teeth.

“Careful, thats-”

His head jerk backwards as I rolled against him again, not letting him get away yet; A violent spasm went through him.

“Ah~ that's not very nice,”

There was a breathless, nervous chuckle playing on his lips as he submitted to me riding his overstimulated cock. I was delighting in the way he tensed and jerked under me as I ground him inside of myself, feeling that edge start to creep into the borders of my brain again,

“Don't tell me you can't take what you dish, Cross, that'd be disappointing…”

His eyes sharpened, and he grabbed my hips… times up I suppose. Good boy.

Crosshair’s back hit the stone as he bucked his hips, putting enough force into it to wrench my control away. His knees knocked between mine to keep me from regaining leverage as he viciously bounced me, easily overwhelming me.

I finally gave in, letting him bring me to climax; falling against his chest with a strangled cry dripping with ecstasy.

He thrust a few more times, shuddering violently as a second climax ripped through him, his fingers digging into my hips as he kriffed through it before finally falling still again holding me tight against his heaving chest.

The sky above me came closer and fell away in a slowing pattern as he breathed under me, wet skin sticking against my back; Relaxed contentment washing through us as our breathing evened together. Cross nipped at my neck and shoulder,

“What got into you?”

“Little of you maybe,”

He snorted.

I rolled off of him laying to his side, he offered his arm to rest my head against as I curled against his ribs.

“Will you miss this, Tahny?”

“We'll keep seeing each other… thought that's what we decided on,”

“I meant…”

He gestures vaguely at the clearing with its steam and grazing creatures.

“Being out here, away from everything else,”

“Mm… not too sure about that, do you know how miserable we'd be if we hadn't been able to find this place?”

“I don't want to know,”

He chuckled, but his brow knit in a subtle show of seriousness.

“Roughing it really isn't your thing, is it?”

“No… I can survive, but no, I need indoor plumbing at the very least. Not really a sonic shower… enjoyer,”

“Would you do it for me?”

“You want me to wing it in the wilderness?”

“Not specifically…”

I could feel my eyes pinch in slight irritation, jumping to the hinted conclusion,

“Are you wondering if you can make me happy Crosshair?”

He looked away, aiming his sights on the sky,

“So what if I am?”

“That's not how it works, Cross, I make me happy, You can support me, cheer me up, and make my life feel more whole, but happy? That’s… well, …that's for me to sort out,”

I faltered at the end of my little speech, a little unsure of myself. I could feel a tinge in my cheeks, like I had confessed something secret.

“I can do all that can I?”

His voice took on a dreamy quality as his eyes stayed fixed on the sky. I could see the stars reflected in them even as dawn tinged the horizon.

“If you want to,”

He didn't answer, instead, he sat up to lean over me, causing me to roll slightly as he moved.

“For someone who's never wanted someone you sure talk like you're an authority on these things,”

“You don't need to experience something to learn about it, I've seen a thousand romances play out a thousand ways… it's a hazard of the trade,”

“A lot of romance in the flesh industry?”

“More than you realize, and probably in more variety than outside it,”

He scoffed at that, forcing me to defend my point,

“Seriously! Normal people meet, then go for caf, then dinner and a holo and then they Kriff each other's brains out till they get bored and move on to someone else,”

“Is that how it's supposed to go?”

“Society at large seemed to decide how it goes, not me… meanwhile Kahtzi has a client that comes every week just to polish her hooves, That's it! That's all he wants, He swears up and down he loves her, who am I to say he doesn't?”

“What about me?”

“Hm?”

“You know so much about people and their affections… What about me? Us?”

I caressed his cheek solemnly,

“We… we're still in our infancy, it feels good to be together, but… it's supposed to… that's how beginnings are,”

He collapsed again, sighing as he pulled me to him.

“Such a strange girl…”

“How so,”

“Hesitant caution doesn't seem like a tactic you employ often, but when it comes to this… why so weary, Tahny? Are you afraid of being happy?”

That wasn't something I had a clever answer for, so I leaned into him instead; Contemplative. Attempting to simply accept the comfort he offered.

We watched the sky a while, the dawn that refused to break. If you squinted at the horizon you could almost make out the sheen of the heat shields that hovered over Sohn. Crosshair probably could, but his eyes were moving, systematically scanning the sky's above.

“It's strange not seeing ships in such a clear sky…”

I turned my gaze upwards to match his, reaching up as if to touch the visible stars.

“Little perk of our wonky gravity, clear skies anywhere but around the ports,”

“I thought more people would be looking for you,”

“Not by air, and like you said… they might just think we're dead,”

…

“Perhaps we should get going then… you're well overdue for your arrival,”

He sighed, giving me another squeeze before standing to check the drying progress of his blacks.

I watched from the stone as he pulled them on before standing myself and fetching my own garments from the dahr branches they were hung over.

“We'll have another day or so on foot before we reach those peaks,”

He was looking towards the horizon.

“We don't have to walk,”

“You don't mean..?”

Wearily, Crosshair appraised the six legged steads grazing around the clearing.

“Animals make you nervous, Cross?”

“No… will they let us ride them?”

“They're pretty docile with humans, I've been riding since I was little,”

“Of course you have,”

I had finished dressing and was scanning the specimens. Needed to choose the right target.

Crosshair's presence at my side signaled he was ready.

“Your lead, Tahny… you sure you know what you're doing?”

I did.

I led us to a young stallion grazing away from the herd.

Clicking a soft tone with my tongue, I caught its attention and splayed my hands in front of me. Slowing to a stop, I waited, trying not to display my anxiety.

The Gazie blinked one set of eyes, then another, before stepping forward to inspect my hands. Its breath was warm as it chuffed over my fingertips. Poised to pull back should it try to nip me, I raised my hand to its muzzle. Relief washed through me when the weight of the stallion’s nose settled into my palm with a heavy sigh from the creature.

“That was easy,”

The Sniper drawled, but I could hear he was impressed under the tone of boredom.

“It's only let me pet it,”

I massaged my fingers up the Gazies cheeks, to its ears, giving it a scratch and not moving again till a soft purr started to rise in the animal's chest. Taking the cue, I moved to the animals side trailing my hands so it knew where I was once I was out of sight. The withers twitched as my finger tips stroked over the coarse fur, first the front, then the back.

It was relaxed and compliant.

“Okay… bring our stuff, move slowly.”

He moved to my side without a word and I showed him how to drape our water canisters over the back hump. We were ready to go.

“I… uh… I need a leg up.”

Crosshair smirked and I flushed but it wasn't time to get snippy with him. I stepped into his offered hand and hoisted myself to sit behind the Gazies first row of shoulder blades. The animal was well fed, and the ridge of its spine was barely a discomfort. For me at least.

“Where do I go?”

“First, you might want to remove your waist plates. It's not exactly an even surface… then get behind me,”

“You've got to be joking…”

I raised an eyebrow, sliding my hand over the ridge of the Gazie’s back.

“You don't want to hurt the poor thing do you?”

He rolled his eyes and clicked off the codpiece and ass plate of his kit, tucking them into my bag before hoisting himself up behind me.

The equine shifted slightly at our weight but was otherwise unbothered. I laced my fingers into its rigid mane and squeezed with my knees.

“Keep those thighs tight, Cross, don't need you falling off,”

He scoffed but I felt his form tighten around me, a hitch in his breath against my neck as I spurned our stead into motion.

“You're not nervous about riding, are you Cross?”

“I've ridden things before,”

The delivery was blunt, and his arms tightened again when a few Gazies from the herd noticed the stallion's movement and started to follow.

“That's not what I asked.”

I steered us through the shallow valley, the young stallion delighting in what I'm sure it thought of as play. They really were docile creatures. The rest of the herd stopped what they were doing to follow. Where one went, so did the rest… it was how they stayed safe.

“Okay… hold on,”

We were turning clear of the narrow channel, the desert plains opening up before us. The pyramid peaks sat on the horizon, sun glinting through them to finally bathe the rocky terrain in light; Only broken now by the few plateaus that stood between us and the dawn.

I squeezed my thighs and ripped a high pitched, hollow whistle through my teeth. As if programmed by instinct, the Gazyll'brahs echoed my call, the whistles an eerie chorus behind us. The beast between my thighs dipped as it opened up its gate, wide hooves spread as it leapt into a canter. I moved my hips with the dipping motion as we picked up speed, Cross held on for dear life.

It was glorious, the warm air whipping about us as we tore over the landscape. Eventually Crosshair picked up how to move with me, rippling in unison with the stallion beneath us, his arms taught around my waist where they rgrabbed into the mane between my thighs. The sound of hoofbeats was heavy and rhythmic, and all around us as a few younger foals overtook our Gazie, daring to dart across our path on occasion. Teasing.

We rode like that for a time that felt like ages, our progress marked by the passing of geological shelves and dips as we closed the distance to the border.

“Wait!”

Crosshair grabbed my wrists, and I pulled the mane till the stallion slowed. Eventually the herd trickled to a stop, scattering boredly nearby.

“What is it, Cross?”

He pointed over my shoulder with his chin, arms still held protectively around me.

“Proximity array,”

A few hundred meters ahead of us I could see the faint blink of the invisible fence line to the farms. We could almost see the bases of the pyramids through a rising shimmer of heat.

“That's what we're looking for, once we cross over the barrier security will be notified… and someone will come for us.”

We were still, neither saying anything as we stared at the finish line of our journey.

“I don't know about you, Tahny… but I'm feeling tired, let's stop for tonight… we'll rest and take you back tomorrow,”

It was whispered into my neck, phrased to sound matter of fact, like it was cautionary and rational. It made no sense to camp out another night, but I found myself nodding in agreement, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. I pulled our mount around turning away from home to tuck us out of site amongst the raised rocks, hoping antithetically that we hadn't been spotted.

~~~

The small fire crackled in the hole Crosshair had dug for it, keeping the light from traveling. Unnecessary, but the flickering light made the shadow of the stone cozy. I was weary about using the dahr trees but the wild bark would have very little effect besides the calm that lay over us now.

I was content, the warm skin beneath my cheek rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The heat had him stripped down to his black bottoms and boots again.

“Can't sleep?”

He had noticed the glint of flame in my half lidded eyes.

“You neither?”

“No… don't really want to.”

“Why not?”

…

“I keep thinking about that dance you were doing… on that table?”

Liar.

But we weren't sleeping, maybe a little exercise would help.

“Want to see it again?”

I teased, nipping a line up to his neck.

“I'd like that,”

He purred under me, though he looked disappointed when I hopped to my feet. I tugged at his arm making his brow furrow.

“Why do I have to get up?”

“Haven't I said something before, about respect and knowing what you ask of someone,”

He groaned and rolled his eyes, but they glinted playfully as he rocked into a stand towering over me in a flash of mock intimidation.

“Alright then, princess, show me.”

I reached for his hands, shifting them so that our fingertips touched, turning upward and raising to the sky. My hands slid down to his elbows as his arms rose above his head, forcing me to lean into him.

“Now turn,”

I whispered against him,

“Lead with your left, make it sharp, counter to my clockwise,”

There were things he was good at, these sharp turns and side steps, but he struggled with rocking his hips on beat. I dropped into the side saddle sit and swept back up.

“Oh come on…”

“I believe in you,”

“Does it have to be sidesaddle?”

“Oh, definitely.”

He rolled his eyes again, attempting the maneuver but catching on his own boots, falling the rest of the way with an ‘oof.’

I giggled and he growled tugging at me before I could dance out of range, causing me to teater off balance and fall on him. This made me giggle harder and he rolled on top to pin me, chuckling,

“It's not funny!”

“Of course it is, it's very funny-aH!”

He bit my cheek playful… before withdrawing again, the look on his face becoming suddenly solemn.

Crosshair leaned in, pressing his lips to mine, hard. When he pulled away a misty look floated in his eyes, then he did it again.

“Mff- wha-”

Another rough kiss,

“... What's on your mind, Cross?”

I managed to gasp out between his assault.

He stopped short, almost stunned. A sheen in his eyes, a tremor in his arms where they framed my face.

“The taste of you, Tahny…”

He pressed his mouth to mine, sliding the tip of his tongue against my lips.

“Anytime it starts to fade, all I have to do…”

Another hard kiss, diving between my lips this time to steal my breath from me.

“... And I have you again… What am I supposed to do tomorrow? When I can't taste you any more… how long do I have to wait?”

My fingers stroked across his brow, his words were coming too fast, almost panicked. I tried to soothe him,

“It'll fade, but I'll be all the sweeter when we meet again,”

“How long, Tahny? You'll come back but when? What if they ship me off before then? I don't want to die not able to remember…”

His words sent a chill through me. Fear. It was fear crawling over him and I realized I had never seen it on him before. Anger, loathing, guilt sure… but the Crosshair that leaned over me now was scared, his voice small.

“I don't want to be alone, Tahny,”

The crack that went through my heart must've shattered the ground beneath me, I felt like I was falling backwards, lightheaded. He should never look like this. Not my Crosshair.

Kark it. Kark all of this.

“Guess we'd better leave then…”

“... Leave?”

“Yeah. You and me… and well, Kahtzi would meet me anywhere… let's go.”

…

“Can we do that? Just go?”

“I have a ship at my estate here, it's a pleasure craft, but it should get us far enough into the outer rim,”

Shifting under him, I reached into his belt for the devices I knew were there; Triumphantly bringing up the tracer held between my fingers between us.

“I get my ship fueled and take it through the tunnel to the port, You come to me using this, circle back after dropping me off,”

“What about… everything else, we can't just drop everything,”

“Why not? Are we really the only ones who can fill the niche we'll leave behind? Who are we really? Would anyone even bother following us?”

His eyes dulled a moment, then refocus, a new determination mingling with his mix of grief. He took the device in my hand, fiddled with some sort of setting, then tucked it into my jacket pocket.

“I'll follow,”

It was short, and he collapsed against my side, pulling me to be cradled against him with a yawn.

“Get some sleep, we need to make sure this goes according to plan,”

“Now you're tired?”

I teased, but his heart rate increased against my eardrum.

“It seems I can't wait for tomorrow…”

At that, I warmed a little… but it felt right, the happy tone now coloring his words. This was the right decision. Everything else could go Kark itself.

Hoping this calm, this reckless scheme wasn't caused by the smoke from the dahr branches, I settled against him till my eyes also drifted shut.

No… this is right.

We finally let our guard down, and fell into a deep sleep.

~~~

There was little warning. The disturbed air hadn't woken us, nor the startled brea of a Gazyll'brah, the crunch of boots on stone. My mind was swimming from the fire smoke as the world shifted abruptly.

I was being yanked up, out of Crosshair's arms by rough hands.

“No!”

I reached for him through air that felt thick, moving too slow, everything moving too slow. A boot was on his neck, he wasn't struggling. His face was resigned as his arms were yanked back, a pair of binders latched about his wrists. … Why wasn't he struggling?

“Crosshair!”

“Quiet, li'ha,”

My father's voice cut through the sound of rushing blood in my ears. I lashed out against the arms pulling me towards the back of an sleek, armored speeder. They were trying to wrap a blanket around me.

“Let me GO! Stop! Don't hurt him! He did nothing wrong!”

But Crosshair was shaking his head subtly, warning me to keep quiet as he was pushed into a second vehicle. My head was forcibly ducked as I was hoisted, hissing and spitting as I was dumped into the seat despite my violent protests.

“If you hurt him I swear…”

The strained and angry oath was as impotent as ever.

A weight settled in beside me as the door clicked shut. I looked up at my father sitting tall and stern beside me.

“You'll do what, Tah’nyem?”

As I looked up at the man who raised me my heart clenched and a knot formed in my stomach. It felt like I was staring at the source of all my problems.

@feral-ferrule @thecoffeelorian

#the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb #tbb fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #sw oc: tah'nyem ra #sw oc #crosshair x f!oc #imperial crosshair #oc sunday #Spotify

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linka-from-captain-planet · 1 year ago

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The L Word: Faerûn, Part 3: The Chart, Pre-Canon

Previous part.

Having explained the overall premise and basically who "Alekto" is, it's time for the real meat of The L Word: Faerûn which is who's fucking who and when and why.

Thus, in more or less chronolgoical order, the pre-canon (pink lines) relationships/hookups/drama is as follows...

(over 100 years ago) Isobel and Aylin meet, piss off Isobels' dad, and lose each other, exactly as occurs in canon. Similarly, Jaheira lost Khalid as in canon.

(? years ago because these are just for seasoning and timing doesn't really matter) Helsik and her #1 rival/frenemy/LOHL Korilla have been on and off forever. They don't know they're desperately in love. Helsik has definitely also ~encountered~ Harleep and Mizora is too nosy and obnoxious to have never crossed paths with Harleep, and crossing paths with Harleep seems to mainly mean one (1) thing.

(c. ~30 years ago to ongoing) The long, rocky relationship between Alekto and Florrick was laid out already in the previous segment, since it explains much of the backstory for the entire TLW:F concept.

Alekto, Florrick, and Naoise Nallinto are also connected as part of a polycule. Alekto is more or less monogamous, but flexible enough for a well-definied poly relationship if desired by her partner. Florrick is definitively poly, and she and Naoise have been involved consistently for quite some time, including during Florrick and Alekto's relationship. Driven by their connection as city-dwelling wood elves, they find each other grounding and enjoy spending time together, but aren't compatible enough to be very serious. Florrick and Naoise remain involved with one another, even though Alekto split away some 10 years pre-canon. Alekto and Naoise had little in common, so they rarely spent time together without Florrick, but consider each other acquaintances up to the present day.

(c. ~30years ago to just before canon). Shadowheart and Nocturne were long-term sweethearts, each other's rock in the harrowing environment of the cloister, although if asked, either would downplay their feelings for each other in accordance with their lady's teachings. They never really broke up, but rather were on-and-off due to Shadowheart's sessions with the Mirror of Loss and having to often rebuild their not-a-relationship from scratch. Due to this, the eternal denial of their true feelings for each other, and the overall culture of sexuality in the cloister, they both often were involved with other members of the cloister (represented as Mirie on the chart but could be really anyone/multiple people) both individually and also there were definitely orgies.

(~20 years-5 years ago) Florrick and Nine-Fingers Keene also had a rivals-and-lovers situationship going, as a gung-ho younger Florrick hoped to make a name for herself in the Flaming Fist by taking down the rising star of the criminal guild, but things got sexy and dramatic fast. It has been several years since they last slept together, but the sexual tension endures. (For what it's worth, I think Nine-Fingers is in her mid-forties as of 1492.)

(~13 or so years ago). Teenage Hoodlums Karlach and Skoona were a casual, infrequent thing before Karlach went under Gortash's wing.

(~10 to 1ish years ago) After Gortash betrayed Karlach, she found some kind of fun, comfort, companionship (against her better judgement) in Flo the Garotter. Karlach would never admit they were ~together~ at all let alone for that long, but if you look at the facts, they don't lie.

Now look at Allandra Grey and tell me that woman is not running some kind of racket out of that temple!! Obviously Nine-Fingers would have a finger in that pie, and a finger in other things if you know what I mean. The city could NOT handle them together, it's like how the horses in Macbeth start eating each other to signify a rift in the natural order. Umberlee probably drowned a lot of people over it. Of course (not pictured) the Polycule From Hell that is Nine-Fingers' Ladies and the Umberlee cultists is alive and (not) well.

Now in the peri-canon realm (within the 1 year prior to), we got a lot going on in the Harper Corner:

Jaheira and Nine-Fingers have had a little casual thing going on for several years, nothing serious; Jaheira doesn't want a new one and only because she already had her one and only. They have some fun, they share information, they pick this thing back up in a couple months.

Now with the Harpers, Jaheira isn't out looking for anything, but you know when you're working so closely with people, and the stakes are so high, and the nights are so cold... shit just kinda starts happening. So Talli and Jaheira developed a bit of a thing while working together to mobilize the Harpers to go to the shadow-cursed land and take on Ketheric. Talli's a good gal, salt of the earth, humble, hard-working; she's ready to settle down but Jaheira is so far beyond settling down that it's just... not a good situation for either of them. Feelings hurt, Talli rebounds with Lassandra and that's really fine, but they just didn't have enough in common to build the kind of relationship either of them want, but they made for good bedfellows while it lasted.

Meanwhile, at one point Jaheira and Isobel get drunk, start reminiscing about their lost loves, and have sex. It WOULD be a secret they both take to their grave if literally everyone didn't know about it.

In the tiefling region, sorry but Lakrissa has bag-fumbler written all over her!! Of course she and Alfira flirt, but Lakrissa fails repeatedly to seal the deal and you know Alfira doesn't make the first move (hence why they have no pre-canon connection). (Also Alfira was desperately in love with Lihala in the most hopeless, idol worship crush way, but this was 100% one-sided so not on the chart). It also doesn't help that Lakrissa's ex-teenage-sweetheart from Elturel, Xeph, is also in their caravan. Xeph dumped Lakrissa because Lakrissa wouldn't get serious about her, a mistake Lakrissa claims she will never make again, but... bag-fumbler. Lakrissa also has some bouts of low self-esteem and since her post in the grove overlooks Aradin's crew camp, I imagine she got into a little something with Remira even though Remira, like Aradin, is a piece of shit (but she is also hot, so).

Lastly, we of course have the Minthara-Orin thing which is honestly not my cup of tea whatsoever, but exists and is thus on the chart. Just because I wanted her on the chart, I feel like Minthara and Roah Moonglow have banged at least once in the goblin camp since Minthra would need to blow off some steam with someone hot and also clean.

And of course Z'rell needed to be on the chart, so the question was, who could handle her? The answer was obviously Araj, whose unflinching craziness yet delusional serenity would be a fun and equal match to Z'rell's intensity. They smashed like 2-3 times in Moonrise.

Next: The Chart, Act 1

#as usual disclaimer that almost everyone on the Chart is bi/pan even if basically only F/F relationships are mentioned #the l word: faerun

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darthbloodorange · 3 months ago

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Savage Land Discovery

Rating: Gen Universe: Marvel Noir Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Warnings: None Major Tags: Action/Adventure, First Meetings, Dinosaurs, Adventurer Tony Stark, BAMF Steve Rogers, Babysitter Steve Rogers (kind of?), Savage Land, POV Tony Stark Word Count: 1000

Summery: Tony takes up traveling again after the war. His first destination is the Savage Lands.

For the: ✦ CapIM Holiday Exchange 2024 Community Gift Prompt: "Tony goes to the Savage Land and finds Steve, who has been stranded there for an unusually long time" (Marvel Noir) + "dinosaurs, just anything with dinosaurs" (Any Universe).

Read below or on AO3 >HERE<

It's good to get back to adventuring after the war. It's almost hard to believe that it's been nearly over a decade since he last went on an Adventure.

Tony wanted to do something big for his grand return. Something that will draw people back in to hear his tales. So Tony travels to the Savage Lands.

Only a handful have been there, and fewer returned. It's perfect!

He gets off to a rocky start. But that always makes for a good story. His ship hits a hidden snag on the journey into the Savage Lands. Though, he at least managed to salvage most of the supplies.

Everything was fine. He wasn't in any danger yet. Tony knew how to survive off the land if things became dire.

Tony sets off into the forest. If all things go well, Rhodey should be waiting offshore on the other side of the coast waiting for him. He could walk around the outside of the coast, but he'd miss all the exciting secrets the place was hiding.

Two arduous hours in of trekking through the forest, Tony decides to take a break. He pulls an MRE out of his pack and begins preparing lunch.

As he waits for his food, he pulls out his notebook and starts writing.

After a short wait, Tony looks up from his book.

...There's a little dinosaur investigating his food.

So the rumors are right. There are dinosaurs on this island.

The creature appeared to be some sort of Hadrosaurid at a guess. Lambeosaurinae, if the crest atop its head were any indication. But it was incredibly small, perhaps reaching about his hip. The size of a large dog. Maybe the limited size of the Savage Land posed a restriction on the inhabitants' sizes in turn.

The little Hadrosaurid stood on its hind legs, back arching forward, its hands lifted just slightly off the ground. One hand grasped onto Tony's MRE packet. It sniffed and prodded at the packet with its billed beak.

Curiosity takes over and Tony gets closer. Seeing if he can work out what it is.

The dinosaur is, incredibly, unbothered by his presence. It's probably never seen a man before and doesn't think him a threat. Just like the Dodos of Mauritius.

Taking a chance, Tony reaches out and touches it.

It takes a halting step back slightly, its thick, stiff tail swinging languidly. But the creature doesn't protest further.

Feeling bold, he grabs it around the rubs and pulls it closer, right into his lap so that he can get a better look at it. It squirms but doesn't fight it.

Its golden eyes are huge. So large for its head size. It's almost midday... so it's unlikely it's nocturnal, but not impossible. Another explanation is...

Tony’s stomach drops.

Another explanation is that it's a baby...

And there's likely an angry mother watching him right now.

Tony carefully lowers the dinosaur out of his lap and to the ground and backs away slowly. Eyeing the shrubs for movement.

There is a deep, resonating clicking sound that cuts right through Tony.

His blood runs cold.

The tiny dinosaur gives a short honk like a little sonic drum and quickly heads off into the shrubs. The direction of the clicking.

Tony looks up. And up. And up further. Way into the canopy. The higher he goes, the larger he fears Mama's going to be.

Then he catches two eyes watching him from the canopy. It takes his panicked brain some time to work out what he is seeing.

It's a man.

A caveman?

No. It doesn't look like it? It's hard to tell.

Then the man dives from the trees. Falling over 90 feet before catching a branch. The branch breaking doesn't faze the man as it seems to serve his purpose of slowing his fall. Catching a second branch, he swings and drops down onto his feet lightly.

The man stands tall. Taller than Tony. Taller than most people Tony’s met. Long blond hair is pulled back in a rough braid. His full beard is tied into neater braids with hand-carved stone beads. His clothing is simple but well-made, stained to camouflage him with the Savage Land's environment. He wears a strap across his chest with multiple pouches and several weapons.

He stares at Tony with cool blue eyes.

"English?" The man asks firmly, his voice deep and smooth. Shocking Tony.

Tony nods.

"You will leave the creatures of the island in peace."

"Allllllright," Tony says, "Will do. I promise."

The man turns around and walks off.

Tony quickly gathers up all his things and follows. "Hey, wait!" He calls, charging into the forest after the mysterious man, "Wait!"

When he catches up with him there are more of the Hadrosaurid dinosaurs, following behind the man like a gaggle of unruly schoolchildren following their headmistress. But also juvenile dinosaurs of other kinds such as Ceratopsians, Stegosaurians, Ornithischians, and Theropods. Even one Pachycephalosauria.

Apparently, this guy was some sort of dinosaur whisper. It was quite a large heard he'd amassed.

...He was a little worried about if the parents were going to show up. But Tony had a feeling that being around this guy was likely exponentially safer than running off on his own into the forest.

"Who are you? Why're you here?"

"I'm one of the forgotten. One of the few that survive. A friend of the old stones."

When no more information is given, Tony says "Is that all you're going to give me?"

"That's all I have to give," the cryptic forest man says, "Nothing else matters here."

"You perhaps have a name?"

"Yes. But you'll not be wanting to stay long enough to use it. You should go, escape before it is impossible and the island has claimed you." Stopping in front of a stone house, the man turns to Tony, "...I'm Steve by the way."

Resting just inside the house is a very familiar shield from the wartime news reels.

THE END

#capimexchange #Steve Rogers #Captain America #Tony Stark #Iron Man #Stony #Marvel #Marvel Noir #Action/Adventure #First Meetings #Adventurer Tony Stark #BAMF Steve Rogers #Babysitter Steve Rogers #Savage Land #POV Tony Stark #DarthBloodOrange #DarthBloodOrangeWrites #Drabble

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themarginalthinker · 2 years ago

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Cherry Ginger Ale

(Laddie comes to Dwayne in the middle of the day, Dwayne worries.)

It should be a parable - 'never wake a sleeping vampire'. Or something to that effect. One could only guess at what it might mean.

For Dwayne, it mostly meant confusion, with a pretty good-sized dash of concern.

No matter what happened after you woke one up, rousing a vampire from the daysleep was a task not easily accomplished. Aside from being nocturnal, the magic that made them tick had peculiar ways of puppeting their bodies. Cycles and routines that it kept for time immemorable. The height of their waking at the darkest of the night, and the depths of their slumber at the zenith of the day. Dwayne wouldn't pretend to know why it was so, only that is was.

So actually managing to hear his name worming into his ears when by all counts he ought to be rather literally dead to the world was quite the feat.

Maybe that was just Laddie's effect on him.

"Dwayne? Dwayne."

Like rising from some black abyss, clawing by inches his way back to consciousness, Dwayne's eyes flickered, seeing nothingness, and then the shadows beyond them.

When he opened them, the familiar sight of the roost greeted him.

The bare rock walls (not like anyone fancied gussying up anything, it wasn't a nest, just a roost, they weren't spending waking time in here) the rocky, uneven floor, and the myriad of pipes and wooden support beams that had wound up in here when clearing out the main hall for space. To his immediate left, Paul, who had one arm wrapped around Marko, the other hanging freely thanks to not locking it in place because hugging the mate was more important than letting it not dangle in sleep. Marko's whole face was buried in Paul's chest, arms secure around his waist like a sane vampire. David was the last in the line, arms around no one but himself, and his back to the pack. He'd been...a little more distant, lately. Ever since Star had joined up, following Laddie into the shallows of their world, David's moods had been up and down, and the last night had ended in a down. Maybe later would be better. Still, even that was not the last thing Dwayne's eyes landed on as they took in wakefulness.

The unfamiliar sight of one little Laddie Thompson also greeted him.

The boy was standing awkwardly at the little crawlspace entrance, the only way to get in or out of the roost room, unless you could fly to an even smaller opening beyond the hang poles. He was in a loose pair of jeans (modified from some that had been a size too big) and a teeshirt that was about three sizes too big. Actually, Dwayne thinks that's one of his, though he rarely wore them, especially in summer. Oh.

Laddie is gazing up, craning his neck back, holding a little flashlight. In his arms, a blanket from his couch nest. When he shined the light onto Dwayne's face, the vampire grunted, and blinked his eyes closed again. There went his darkvision for at least a few seconds. At his reaction, Laddie flicked the beam of light away.

"Dwayne? Are you 'wake?"

Dwayne took in a breath, puffing out the stale air that had stagnated in his chest for his unconscious hours. "Yeah. Am now. You alright?"

Contextually, if there had something been wrong, Laddie likely wouldn't have been standing there calmly, but Dwayne needed to ask. Had to.

"Yeah," the boy answers. He then fidgets with his blanket, the switch of the flashlight.

Dwayne sighs again. Something's off. Laddie didn't normally do this.

He looks down, his own neck almost folding in an unnatural bend to do so, at his boy. His shirt was rumpled with sleep, as was his hair...but there was something about his face. The way he was leaning closer to the wall.

To his credit, the alarms no doubt going off in his head now weren't loud enough to wake the others - though David did twitch - but they were definitely set off.

Dwayne frowns, lifts his upper body up so he could grab the hang pole with his hands, and then unhooks his feet. He swings down like a gymnast, letting the momentum from his lower half carry him to the floor and landing in a silent crouch. Laddie stepped back a little, giving him space, but Dwayne was already at him, hands smoothing hair, trailing over arms.

"What's wrong?"

Getting this close though, he could smell it before Laddie spoke again.

"...I got sick. In the fountain."

Yeah.

Even in the gloom, with the ambient illumination from Laddie's flashlight, he could see the pinched expression on the boy's face, the red dots of broken, tiny blood vessels under his eyes, how gingerly he held himself up, probably still nauseous.

"I see," Dwayne says quietly. At the look on Laddie's face, he shrugged, pulling him close. Laddie came to him with barely a prompt, draping himself tiredly over Dwayne's frame, head at his shoulder. His forehead rests against Dwayne's neck, and he hopes that it's just that his own skin is so chill, but he thinks Laddie might be a little warmer than usual. His own coolness probably feels good against the hot skin.

Fuck. Well. The kid was only still human.

"C'n I sleep with you? Please?" he mumbles, muffled against Dwayne.

Dwayne winces, and glances up. No one else awake still, and he himself is still feeling the unnatural pull downwards, even here on the ground.

"...Okay," he says. It's not like he was about to send him back to bed ill and alone. (A part of him wonders why he didn't just wake up Star...)

At least it seems to make Laddie happy, and he lets Dwayne reposition them. The vampire lifts him into his arms, letting him cling like he does when they're on his bike as he finds the most level, clear part of the floor to sit upon. Dwayne's back is to the wall, knees drawn up, Laddie sitting sideways in his lap with his blanket wrapped around him and his head on Dwayne's shoulder. Yeah, running a fever, but hopefully just a 24-hour bug. Tonight, if Laddie isn't feeling better they'd raid a pharmacy and a grocery store for something to settle a turned stomach.

"I'm sorry I messed up the fountain," Laddie mumbles. "Is David gonna be mad?"

Dwayne hums, eyes starting to shutter. "No, he won't. He'll want you to be okay, and we can just clean it up later. Just try to go back to sleep."

Laddie snuggles down again, the dark and the silence no doubt better than the filtering sunlight and Marko's birds and the pounding of the waves against the cliffs outside only a distant, low rumble here.

As Laddie's breathing evens out, back to rest, so too does Dwayne slip back into daysleep. Where there is no awareness, only the ghosts of dreams. But he's not worried.

This sleeping vampire always wakes when he's needed.

#the lost boys #drabbles #dwayne tlb #laddie thompson #why do we ALWAYS get sick at like 430 am #and when you're a little kid it's like hhhh I'm nauseous AND now I gotta wake mom up :(((#it's ok laddie dwayne is best mom

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fishenjoyer1 · 8 months ago

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Fish of the Day

Today's fish of the day is the flower hat jelly!

The flower hat jelly, scientific name Olindias formosus, is a small and rare jelly known for the multicolored tentacles and luminescent display. Belonging to the hydrozoa family, the flower hat jelly is not actually a true jellyfish. The main difference between them being that true jellyfish belong to the Scyphozoa class, and have a life cycle defined by a longer period as a medusa (their adult form) whereas hydrozoans have a lifecycle primarily defined by their polyp or juvenile stages, sometimes even lacking medusa forms, a pattern that can once again be found in the flower hat jelly's life cycle. Their distribution is off the coastline of Japan, Korea, and countries within Oceania. Although some believe that these jelly's can also be found outside of Argentina, and Brazil, it is thought this may be a close relative, Olindias sambaquiensis. With a depth range from sea level down to 55m of depth, these jellyfish tend to live near the ocean floor where they can hide among kelps, sea grasses, and loose rocky bottoms.

Living a nocturnal life, the flower hat jelly spends its days hiding on the ocean floor. But, once dusk arrives this jelly rises from its hiding places to capture small fishes within its tentacles, paralyzing and or killing the fish, before drawing the corpse up into the bell to be consumed. The stings from this jelly are painful, and at least one fatality has been recorded from them in Japan. These tentacles hold most of the intrigue of the flower hat jelly. The length of the tentacles may appear to be random, but has been found to be arranged mathematically in an optimization hashing algorithm known as fibonacci hashing. Length aside however, these jelly's, and especially their tentacles contain fluorescent proteins, which are used to attract prey when hunting, and are particularly bright under blacklight. This protein is uniquely interesting due to its use in helping treat some COVID cases, as it can be used as an inhibitor, stopping the replication of the disease, and slowing or halting its spread.

The reproduction and younger stages of the flower hat jellyfish were a mystery for many years, but in 2012 the Monterey Bay Aquarium managed to be the first to breed them in captivity, capturing a full lifecycle from larvae to polyp to medusa. Beginning as polyps attached to a hard surface along the seabed, where they are completely stationary, surviving off of a single active tentacle, which is waved back and forth to gather nutrients, forming a medusae and releasing them only once a size of 1mm was achieved. Then they will mature into juvenile medusa, which are identical to adult medusa in appearance and behavior, only being identifiable by their smaller size and less tentacles. Juvenile medusa only being around 2-20mm, and adults getting only as large as 6inches total throughout their lifespan. Adult flower hat jellies are only observed in the months of December-July with peaks in the months of May and April. However, we understand very little about how these jelly's sexually breed in the wild, but fertilization occurs externally, as gametes are released into the water to create small, non-cooperative colonies along similar areas. These animals live only 4-6 months as adults, and only around a year total before slowly losing their fluorescence and passing away.

That's the flower hat jelly, everybody, have a wonderful Tuesday!

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billveusay · 2 years ago

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Lackadaisy Hoover Hullabaloo

@lackadaisycats

"Featuring the talents Mordecai Heller, Mitzi May and Rocky Rickaby" A little fancomic I have been working on for the last three days (and one sleepless night's worth of nocturnal drawing). When I discovered that vacuum cleaners got widespread in the 1920's, I realized that this meant Mordecai could conceivably discover their existence as an adult. And that his reaction would probably be quite entertaining. And then Rocky entered the equation.

Anyways, I had great fun working on it, probably made a lot of progress (even though this was my first experience at drawing comics, so I can't stay on model for sugar puffs and the speech bubble are pretty much flying around wherever there's room for them). Hope you enjoy it!

#lackadaisy cats #rocky rickaby #mitzi may #mordecai heller

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maccreadysbaby · 2 months ago

Text

House of Wolves

batfamily + oc insert

tw: intoxication

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

oh the woes of being fifteen

part eight

❝ NOCTURNAL ❞

FRIDAY — APRIL 21 — 10:48PM

THE WORST PART OF SLEEPING ALL DAY, WAS NOT BEING ABLE TO SLEEP ALL NIGHT.

It was almost eleven. Dinner had ended almost three hours ago, and all the Wayne’s that didn’t live in the Manor anymore scattered back to their homes and apartments and schools. Bentley, Bellamy, Valor, Asten, Damian, Bruce, and Rockie had all watched a movie afterwards — some Netflix original that ended up being exponentially bad and, at the same time, so intriguing that they couldn’t stop watching it.

After that, everyone had split off to go to bed, and Bentley was just… there.

He laid silently in his dark room for maybe twenty minutes. Scrolled uselessly on his phone, texted Vera. She didn’t respond, but she had said earlier that they were going to bed really early because of their plans for tomorrow. So, Bentley just… laid there.

And eventually, he got bored, got up, and left his bedroom.

The Manor hall was dark and quiet, lined with carpet and family pictures that had grown in size to compensate for the new members. He could hear the distant, soft sounds of video games coming from one of the doors farther along, and he thought about going to find it, but he turned toward the stairs instead.

He walked carefully, skipping the creaky sixth and twelfth stairs as he made his way down to the entryway. The chandelier there still managed to shine even in the dark.

Quietly, he made his way through the entryway and into the kitchen. A few of the dim lights were still on, but no one was in there, and no one was around.

Now that everyone had left, the Manor was quiet, and felt kind of… he wasn’t sure. Sad? Maybe it was just because no one was awake, and the whole thing was quiet, and he was up alone.

That was something he was starting to notice about himself. Nowadays he… got kinda sad when he was alone.

With a soft sigh, he dug through the freezer until he found a little container of Ben and Jerry’s that had the name ASTEN scrawled on top in big letters, grabbed a spoon from the drawer, sat at the island and ate it.

He absentmindedly navigated to Vera’s band’s instagram, scrolling through the most recent posts. They had started rapid-fire posting their whole trip to document it, and every time he opened his phone there seemed to be a new story or post. He couldn’t keep up to save his life.

The most recent one was a picture of Vera in a little white dress standing in front of a huge tour bus, her arms outstretched and a million-dollar smile on her face. Bentley double tapped to like it and scrolled down into the comments — where there was a comment from Aleah Powers herself, congratulating them and saying how excited she was to have them on her tour.

That’s about when Bentley realized that post had over one-point-five million likes, and that their follower count had gone up to a million and the tour hadn’t even started.

Bentley smiled faintly at the screen. He could already tell she was going to get famous — her life’s dream was going to come true thanks to this once in a lifetime opportunity. She was going to be a celebrity, like a red-carpet, Grammy winning, millionaire celebrity. And then what would he be, standing next to her?

Bentley heard footsteps.

He spun around on the island stool and leaned to the side to glance into the entryway, and someone flashed by on the stairs, silent as a mouse.

Bentley laid down his phone and spoon and pushed himself off of the stool, stepping into the kitchen doorway.

Bellamy was unlocking the front door. Last time Bentley had seen him, he was wearing pajamas, but now he was in jeans and a white button-up shirt, looking suspiciously ready to leave.

With a lifted brow, Bentley leaned against the doorframe and cleared his throat. “A little late to be leaving, don’t you think?”

With a quiet, started sound, Bellamy whipped around to face him with wide brown eyes.

“Bentley! What… are you doing up?” He asked, as though Bentley was the one doing suspicious things.

“I slept all day,” He replied simply, scanning Bellamy’s outfit with a faint smirk. “What’re you doing?”

Bellamy, with surprise still lingering on his face, pulled his hand away from the front door and blinked, righting his expression. “Going… outside.”

Bentley nodded toward him. “Fully dressed?”

“You…” Bellamy trailed off. “Never know who you’ll see outside?”

“Our nearest neighbor is, like, a mile away,”

Bellamy let out an exasperated sigh and groaned: “Bentley.”

“Where are you going?” Bentley asked, pushing off of the doorframe and taking a few steps forward, crossing his arms lightly. “Does Bruce know you’re leaving?”

Bellamy sighed heavily, throwing his head back dramatically. “Bentley.”

“I’m just asking,” He shrugged.

Bellamy tossed his arms out to the side. “I’m going to Maddox’s house.”

“Does Bruce know?”

“Why can’t you mind your own business?” Bellamy grumbled. “I’ll be back before anyone wakes up and it’ll be fine. Please, they’re already waiting to pick me up.”

Bentley didn’t say anything, but just sort of looked at him for a moment. Bellamy was giving him these big brown puppy eyes and, for a flash, Bentley saw the same eleven year old that used to cling to him at school.

Bentley breathed in, deep, and then out. “When will you be back?”

Bellamy shrugged. “Like, three or four. Whenever the designated driver brings me back.”

“I’ll be awake,” Bentley replied shortly. “Go. Before I change my mind.”

Bellamy moved quickly for the door, turning the handle quietly.

“Hey, wait,” Bentley continued, and Bellamy turned around looking really close to stabbing something. “Share your location with me.”

Bellamy slapped himself in the forehead. “What? You’re not my mom!”

“If I’m going to be the only one who knows you’re gone, I at least want to know where you are in case your friends run off the road with you in the car,” Bentley shot back. “Share it.”

With an unintelligible groan, Bellamy whipped his phone out and shared the location with him, and it was confirmed when Bentley’s phone pinged in the kitchen.

“Good. If you turn it off, I’ll wake up Bruce and tell him you left,”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Bellamy asked, exasperated. Bentley shrugged, looking amused.

“Yep.”

With a deep, long sigh, Bellamy pulled the door open and stepped out onto the stoop, closing it behind him.

And Bentley just stood there.

A few seconds later, the door opened again, and Bellamy’s head popped back in, looking sheepish. “We’re… not actually going to Maddox’s house.”

“Wow,” Bentley feigned surprise. “I’m shocked.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a dick. We’re going to this… restaurant his dad owns, downtown Gotham.”

“Oh, nice,” Bentley nodded. “Would that happen to be a liquor restaurant?”

“Bentley!”

“I told you to go before I change my mind,” He sighed heavily, running a hand over his hair. “But… thanks for telling the truth, I guess. I’ll be waiting here at four.”

With no other words, Bellamy closed the door and disappeared into the night.

Bentley exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. Did he want Bellamy to have fun and be a normal teenager? Yes. That’s what Bentley had wanted the whole time he was at Redwood and now he’d finally gotten it — he traveled and went on trips and did stuff with his friends all the time, why shouldn’t Bellamy?

Did he necessarily want Bellamy riding with sketchy teenagers to a downtown Gotham bar? Absolutely not. But if he stopped him, he’d just end up being the bad guy, and if he told Bruce, he’d just end up being more of a bad guy.

And one thing he could not seem to survive, ever, was someone he loved being mad at him. Seven years and he still couldn’t stand it.

He rubbed a hand across his forehead and turned, eyeballing the pair of chairs that were sitting neatly in the nook of the winding staircase.

With a sigh, he grabbed his phone and Asten’s ice cream and plunked himself down in one. And he waited.

—

It was four-fifteen when Bellamy got back.

Bentley had been nodding off in the chair when the front door opened and Bellamy was on the other side, looking disastrously different. His hair was a complete wreck, way messier than it had been when he’d left, his eyes were dazed and his face was flushed from alcohol, and — the detail Bentley decided to completely ignore — there were several different shades of pink and red on the collar of his shirt, and smeared across the sleeve where he’d been vigorously wiping it off of his own face.

Bentley stood up, an exasperated look on his face. “What the hell, Bellamy.”

Bellamy looked at him, and it seemed to take a few seconds for his wheels to turn. And then he smiled. “Oh, hey! I knew you’d still be here!”

“Shh. You’re yelling,” Bentley hushed him, blowing out a puff of air and moving toward the door, pulling it open so he could step inside without falling on his face. Maybe.

“Aw, thanks B,” He slurred with a smile, dazed and completely out of it. He stepped through the door, banging the toe of his shoe against the threshold and stumbling over it. Bentley jumped to catch him, but he seemed to regain his balance at the last second, catching himself on the doorframe. And then he started laughing.

“Shh,” Bentley hushed him again, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him into the house, closing the door quietly. “Let’s go up to your room. C’mon. Do you feel sick?”

“I feel great!” He chimed. Bentley turned, pulling him toward the stairs at a pace slow enough that he could get his feet under him. On the very first step, he stepped too low, and Bentley was the only thing that kept him from face-planting on the stairs.

It took five whole minutes to get him up the stairs. He almost fell, like, six times, and there was no way for them to skip the squeaky ones. Hopefully no one was listening.

Once they got in the hallway, Bellamy tried to go in Rockie and Damian’s rooms before, finally, they went into his.

With a long sigh, Bentley closed the door.

Bellamy moved forward until he flopped on his bed. “What time is it?”

Bentley sighed, walking over to his dresser and opening the top drawer, pulling out a Batman t-shirt. “Almost four-thirty. Change into this.”

Bentley turned and tossed it at him. His reflexes were pretty much nonexistent, so it hit him right in the face.

“I’ll be right back,”

“Okaaaaay,”

With a shake of his head, Bentley left the room and closed the door, heading back to his bedroom. He dug some advil out of his nightstand, and quickly returned to Bellamy.

He was still sitting on the bed, playing with his phone.

Bentley walked over to him and swiped the device out of his hand. “No drunk texting,” He ordered, placing the pills in his hand instead. “Take those.”

“What?” Bellamy whined, looking at the capsules like they’d personally offended him. “Why? Give me my phone!”

“I’m not letting you make even more of an idiot out of yourself,” Bentley replied. “And the medicine is because you’re going to feel like shit pretty soon.”

“Bentley,”

“Bellamy, just do it,” He ordered harshly, tossing a hand to the side. “I screwed up this time, but next time you pull this shit, I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“You’re so mean to me!” Bellamy whined, pulling himself out of his bed, tossing the pills on his nightstand, and grabbing for his phone. Bentley held it backwards, away from him.

“Stop,”

“You stop!”

Bentley sighed exasperatedly. “Bellamy.”

“Bentley!”

Bentley spun around to keep the phone away from him. “If you don’t shut up, Bruce is going to hear you.”

“Maybe you should shut up!”

“I’m not being loud,”

In a split second, Bellamy’s face went from alcohol flushed to white, and he stopped mid phone battle with a look of disgust on his face. “Shit.”

“Go,” Bentley pointed at the bathroom, and Bellamy went, hardly making it through the door before he started dry heaving in the sink.

Bentley exhaled heavily, running a hand across his face.

Well. At least he’d slept all day.

—

tag list that KINDA works

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy @bookwarm0-0

@custommadeazula

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rodrigobera04 · 1 year ago

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Third round, this time with dragon type.

Here it is:

DRAGON pure

Small dragons lined up, forming a larger dragon,like wishwash does.

Dragon playing hide and seek, blending in with the landscape.

Kaiju turtle with a draconic skull for its shell.

Imp with huge ears like wings, drinks the blood of other dragons.

Draconic two-headed dog, used as security.

Beast with a long neck that goes around its body.

Tarasque with armored hull articulated like an armadillo.

Robust underground dragon with echolocation, with a bat-like face.

Feathered wyvern followed by her eggshell-helmeted chicks.

DRAGON/GRASS

Cactus lizard, carrying a cactus full of water on its back like a hump.

Nocturnal creature with an intimidating bat-flower face.

Dragon parasite strangler fig, wrapped around trees for steal their essence.

Small pollinating wyvern like a hummingbird carrying seeds and pollen.

Leafy sea dragon orchid, floating through the treetops.

Nudibranch covered in vegetation capturing energy from the sun.

Literal dragonfly with Venus flytraps for claws to catch prey.

Parasaurolophus with a wooden trumpet to whistle.

Vegetable drake blowing fragrant smoke of flowers and herbs.

DRAGON/ROCK

Dragon with rocky skin, pretending to be a cave and swallowing prey.

Beast with rock skin and chipped stone claw that sharpens on its body.

Cave lizard men use pieces of fossils as their weapons.

Comet in the shape of a dragon's head and with its trail of light as a body.

Avian gargoyle that rests during the day, like a pooto.

Devilish-looking monster resembling a stone idol.

Mythical beast with gemstone scales that reflect flaming light.

Hybrid of a triceratops and nurikabe with chameleon camouflage.

Winged beast with dragon wings shaped like a drill to open the ground.

DRAGON/ICE

Polychaete worm opening the ice with its jaws.

Female dragon born from an egg exposed to low temperatures.

Crocodile sleeping on an iceberg, with only its mouth and paws sticking out.

Hairy beast with large tusks, remotely reminiscent of a mammoth or yak.

Monster with a flat body, hidden in the snow and sliding in avalanches.

Polar sea monster, its sounds can be heard from the bottom, for kilometers.

Oni-like creature, blowing blizzards from its inflatable throat.

Polar reptile capable of changing its colors to those of the northern lights/southern lights.

Beast with icy blood that, when injured, freezes the attacker on contact.

DRAGON/FIRE

Pig-nosed drake who shoots like fire like a pistol.

Little dragon running and exploding with its lit fuse tail.

Bird of paradise dragon doing mating dances setting fire to its scales.

Wolf beast blowing fire into houses and stealing cattle, like in fairy tales.

Hybrid between a stingray and a bat that lives in lava, it burns its prey by covering it.

Turtle with soup-smelling breath, which attracts prey.

Pangolin with healing scales, its meat can cure diseases according to some.

Rocket dragon, has holes in its back used as turbines.

Male dragon hatched from an egg exposed to high temperatures.

DRAGON/GROUND

Terrestrial catfish that causes earthquakes.

Draconian vicuña with membranes that blow clouds of sand.

Flat crocodile that hides in the dunes.

Huge sandworm with a converging body of a whale.

Hydra eel, emerging from a mud puddle behind its prey.

Serpent like elephant trunk that blows sand, based on grootslang.

Camouflaged predator imitating a tree, as if it were a stick insect.

Snake with reliefs of footprints on the body, rotating and leaving deceptive tracks.

Lizard sticking out its tongue that is actually its real head.

DRAGON/GHOST

Dragon that has been decapitated but can separate its head from its body.

Parchment with a drawing of a dragon on it, which gives it life.

Diaphonized seahorse, with transparent skin and colorful skeleton.

Crocodilian boogeyman, based on the cuca monster,sings a dreamy song.

Dragon skin bag, gaining characteristics of his living "self", like a mouth.

Ancient monster described in a book, with the haunted ink giving it life.

Giant Dracula vampire bat, haunting abandoned castles.

Dragon hunter wearing the skin of a slain dragon as armor.

Undead kaiju that breathes will-o'-the-wisp.

DRAGON/FAIRY

Griffin laying eggs in other dragons' nests, like a cuckoo.

Chinese parade dancing lion, doing acrobatics,fight evil spirits.

Ruby sea dragon, blows pearls from its mouth like a cannon.

Lamia disguised as a maiden or nymph, swallowing approaching prey.

Carp purifying the polluted rivers and lakes by their magical scales.

Small dragon but can transform into a huge beast in defense, like a spriggan.

Unicorn dragon with magical and healing horn, but very fierce.

Lunar fairy based on vespertilio homo, with bat characteristics.

Shinchu immune to poison, predator of poisonous Pokémon.

DRAGON/BUG

Prehistoric cockroach with features of a dinosaur.

Titan beetle cutting down trees with one bite.

Giant mutant ant, like those from a B movie.

Giant tarantula hidden by its foliage camouflage, considered a cryptid.

Thorny katydid with wings looking like a dragon's eyes.

Huge mosquito stealing cattle to drink blood.

Horde of worms imitating a huge dragon.

Wingless parasitic fly that lives in the caves of noibat and noivern

Mandarin wasp causing destruction in bug-type creations.

DRAGON/DARK

Alien eldritch dragon with tentacles on its face and wings.

Yakuza lizards with scales resembling tattoos.

Dinosaur cryptid with dark skin to camouflage itself at night.

Serpent swallowing solrock and lunatone, alluding to bakunawa, apofis, etc.

Gecko with a false head on its tail to prevent decapitation.

Monster like a peanutbug with a hideous fake face on its wings.

Oviraptor preying on other dragons' nests, stealing eggs.

Two-headed beast, one head sings a hypnotic song and the other attacks.

Dragon in "sheep's clothing", uses its jaws to imitate horns.

DRAGON/STEEL

Heraldic animalistic monster with metallic fur.

Folklore monster who faced heroes, swords are stuck in his body.

Dragon covered in molten metal, using its heat.

Dragon with a chain with a metal ball, pinning him to the ground.

Diabolical creature deceiving the greedy with illusions of coins in its mouth.

Metallic wyrm with a metallic head and body, cuts everything like a knife.

Carnifex screaming and creating sound waves heard from far.

Precious mineral-eating cave creature.

Winged dragon closing its wings like a shield.

DRAGON/ELECTRIC

Albatross/iguana chimera, creates electrical storms.

Alligator with electric bite.

Fast raptor, kills prey with a surprise electric shock.

Sachihoko covering herself with her tail, like a mohawk that attracts lightning.

Duck-billed dinosaur, its beak has bio-electric organs.

Dragons like bats, flying in clouds to catch electricity, personify thunder.

Bichir can electrocute like an eel, with fins in the form of lightning.

Dragon with bioluminescent tail like firefly abdomen.

Ouroboros creating infinite energy by biting its tail.

DRAGON/FIGHTING

Iridescent python twitched and whipped its body.

Monster with mutated arms that form a second jaw.

Dragon knight with scales forming swords.

Massive bullfrog sumo wrestler, crushing the opponent.

Hydra that instead of heads, has extra arms.

Bird of terror with strong legs for crushing and kicking.

Anfisbena fighting among themselves to see who takes over the direction.

Wuxia themed tiger and dragon hybrid predator.

Demon with sharp claws and slashing wings based on devilman.

DRAGON/NORMAL

Monster with three pairs of jaws, looking like a strange dog.

Immense dragon looking like a huge mattress, almost always sleeping.

Little dinosaur with a bait-shaped tail for catching fish.

Small lizard but with a huge roar.

Reptile shedding its skin, which takes the form of colorful and stylish clothing.

Angelic-looking beast with sonic abilities.

Rubber dinosaur capable of inflating itself.

Dragon with a beard of colorful scales, used for display.

Long tatzelwurm coiled over its victim.

DRAGON/FLYING

Flock of birds that form an immense winged creature.

Roc launching its tough eggs onto its prey.

Colorful kite pterodactyl creating tornado winds.

Dragon without wings,but it swallows air to blow and also levitate.

Dinosaur turning into a bird when it evolves.

Amphitera with colorful wings and a body that makes a rattling noise.

Flying turtle, its head is hidden in the shell and comes out like a cuckoo clock.

Symbiotic dragon with butterflies, letting them drink his tears.

Wyvern goose used as a guard dog, very fierce and with a serrated beak.

DRAGON/WATER

Kaiju lobster making water turn to steam.

Kraken sea serpent, covered in tentacles and a beak that cuts metal.

Oriental dragon made of water, always dripping raindrops.

Soft-shelled turtle, its shell is shaped like wings for gliding.

Tiny, seemingly dull fish with the mouth of a sarcastic fringhead.

Monitor lizard abandoning the land and becoming a mosasaur-like monster.

Sea monster in the form of a waterspout.

Gar turning amphibian and looking like a spinosaurus.

Supernatural aquatic horse that runs on water, covered in wet, sticky mucus.

FINAL MYTHICAL:

Pixie dragon dragon/fairy, created from children's imagination of fairy tales.

Wait for more.

#fakemon #pokemon #dragon type #dragon pokemon

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