#Therapod kin

[tor-the-tyrannosaur]

What the food in my fridge sees in the middle of the night

She’s spotted you.

[endogenicredstararchive]

Hello, and welcome one and all to my little patch of peace! My name is Sylum and I'm what is known as fictionkin. Now, I'm sure you're wondering: "what the hell is fictionkin? A fictionkin is someone that either psychologically, or spiritually believes that they are, or were, a fictional character or species. In my case, I'm purely the psychological kind. Though I am inclined to believe in past lives, I don't have memories of anything regarding my kintype. Kin of the spiritual kind have memories of their past lives as those characters or as that species. Whereas psychological kin do not. Or at least, from what I've experienced.

Below the cut, is everything you need to know about me! Please feel free to read on if you'd like!

So, what is my kintype specifically? Primarily, I'm fictionkin. More specifically, my kintype is a Buma. Not many people know this species by name, which is a crying shame. If you were to peruse the character notes of Red XIII from Final Fantasy 7, you would see that name. At some point, they would have implemented the species as a whole, by name, in the game. However, they opted not to. So, the name is forever drowned in obscurity. But, at least I know the name for them now.

Going into even more specifics, I am what I refer to as the Icicle Region Variant. The Icicle Buma is, funnily enough, something of my creation. They have thick fur to help save off the cold, and large paws to help them navigate the deep snow drifts of the north. They have long, sharp canines, like a Smilodon, and a downward curved snout, like a bull terrier. The males have thick, shaggy manes and Norse inspired braids. The females are maneless and don't have braids. Regardless of gender, the icicle variant is larger than the cosmo Canyon variant. They're sturdier built, and are capable of climbing steep rock faces. They're heavily muscled frame is quite terrifying when you see them at a distance. They're silhouette can strike fear into the hearts of even the toughest of SOLDIERs. Despite their intimidating appearance, they're actually quite gentle. They have been known to aid lost travelers, and aid in nursing the sick. They know the icicle region like the back of their paws, and are able to lead hikers to the safety of civilization with ease. Like their Canyon born brothers and sisters, they are capable of human reasoning and speech. However, some really aren't keen on talking. They live in a tight-knit tribe, but they will allow others to leave to explore the world and gain knowledge. Other than that, they're usually very elusive-- they will only be found if they want to be. Put enough about the primary. Let's talk about my secondary type.

My secondary type is shapeshifter. More specifically, a Paleo shapeshifter. Often favoring the intimidating, vicious therapods, I can, within myself, transform into prehistoric life. This includes but isn't limited to: dinosaurs, marine reptiles, and Pleistocene mammals. The primary for my take when I feel like a shapeshifter is a Tyrannosaurus Rex, or an Achillobator.

Now that all of the important information is out of the way, let's get to the other, less important stuff.

Please be aware that this is a secondary blog! Because of this, I can't follow anyone in return. Please don't be offended that I don't follow back.

I am 29 years old, so if you are under the age of 18 and uncomfortable with following an adult, that I'm afraid you'll have to leave. Thank you for stopping by, though!

I believe that's it for my little introduction! Thank you all so very much for reading! I hope to update this blog a lot in the coming days. Until my next post, I'll see you around!

[mmvalentine]

Pomegranate pt 6 | Feysand

Hades/ Persephone inspired AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

Rhys has them dressed in a flicker of magic, pulling Illyrian leathers from a pocket realm, and then crouches on the floor listening intently to the minds beyond the door. Feyre braids her hair with deft fingers, and looks sombre.

Rhys thinks vaguely that an enemy invasion is not exactly the afterglow he had planned after their first time, but he supposes that is not the most pressing matter at hand.

Now he is picking up more familiar voices. His army is here, and he has never been so glad to hear them. He speaks to Feyre in a quick, low voice.

"Alright. I have five hundred soldiers on the ground and more coming. I'm going out to meet Cassian but I'll send Mor to come get you. She can winnow you to the Night Court."

But Feyre puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Rhys," she says. "These are my people. I'm not leaving them alone while they're being attacked." Rhys wants to argue but then her canines are lengthening and her fingers turn to talons, and he remembers the power of the High Lord of Spring.

"You're a shapeshifter," he realises, and then feels he should be less surprised.

Feyre's beast is both like and unlike Tamlin's. She has gold markings around her face but her fur is velvety black. She is muscled and powerful, but sleek and streamlined. Her eyes do not change at all. Rhys takes her in, and is only more sure than even that she is made for the Night Court.

Feyre speaks directly into his mind.

When it's all over, come find me, she says. And then she slips past him and out the door, tail flicking through the air.

Rhys thinks for a moment that her creature is very beautiful, and then a Hybern soldier lumbers through the door with a broadsword, and the battle is begun.

Rhys locates Cassian shortly afterward, and the general is efficient as he is ruthless. The two brothers stick together for the most part, and although they are not defending their own home, Rhys thinks that in the end, all wars feel the same.

Hybern's army is surprised as Tamlin's at the sudden arrival of the Night Court allies, but even so they manage to cut a devastating path through the Spring Court. Rhys does not see Feyre for hours, but he does run into her father.

"What are you doing here, whelp?" The High Lord snarls. He's brandishing a bloodied knife in each hand, and his hair is falling in face.

"I was expecting something with a more grateful flavour, but I suppose it's difficult for you to muster manners of any kind," Rhys replies, brushing dirt off his shoulder.

"You sent the Hybern bastards to prove a point, didn't you?"

"Oh you really have lost it, old man."

"Don't even think about taking Feyre," Tamlin says, ignoring the jibe. "I've sealed her door. She's not going anywhere, not this day."

Rhys pictures her feline form slinking off with fangs gleaming and her tail flicking through the air, and says nothing.

"Call off your dogs," Tamlin growls.

"We are here to help, you geriatric ass."

"Why?"

"Because if Hybern gets a foothold in Prythian, we're all at war."

"Fine," Tamlin barks. "But stay out of my way."

He stalks off, and Rhys hopes Feyre's beast finds him and eats him.

///

The battle is over by sunset.

It is not swift, and it is not easy. Despite Rhysand's reinforcements and the element of surprise, the Hybern armies are strong and great in number. Cassian and Azriel stand dirtied and bloodied, their heads bowed together as they discuss what implications this might have for the safety of Prythian at large.

But Rhys doesn't care. Not now. He is weary and covered in filth, and he wants to be home. He trudges up the cracked staircase and goes in search of Feyre.

When it's all over, come find me.

Rhys casts his mind out wide, and wishes they had made a more concrete plan.

Feyre? he sends out softly. He's never spoken into Feyre's mind before, and doesn't want to scare here.

Then a reply comes, drifting across like a scent.

Here. Rhys receives the image of a dark room with slate flooring. He follows the thread through the house, until he finds Feyre in her fae form, curled around the body of a stout female.

Rhys crouches down in front of them.

"Hello love," he says softly.

"There are so many dead, Rhys," Feyre says. She has blood under her fingernails and dirt on her face, except for where the tears have tracked through it.

"I know."

"He could have stopped this, he could have evacuated or prepared or something."

"I know."

Feyre begins to rock back and forth, clutching the dead fae closer to her. Rhys lets her. It is long moments before she looks up.

"It's over, isn't it?" she asks him.

"Yes. It's over."

"And Tamlin?"

"He's fine. The Night Court soldiers offered to help clean up but he declined, so we're on our way out now."

"We?"

"Yes. All of us." He holds his hand out. "It's time."

Feyre looks down at the female in her arms, and back up at Rhys.

"Take me," she whispers. Rhys lifts the fae away, placing her gently on the stones a little way away. Then he kneels in front of Feyre and wraps his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin while she hugs him back as tight as she can. A second later, he winnows.

////

Feyre spends three days in Rhys's bedroom.

Initially, he gives her her own room. When they arrive in the Night Court, he helps her clean off then puts her to bed, and strokes her hair while she lies there unable to cry. She falls asleep eventually, and Rhys thinks he might give her some privacy. He pads back to his own room, but when he turns around she's following him with a fist in her eye like a tired kitten.

And so Feyre sleeps next to Rhys. She does not eat much, and does not say much; there are many of her kin she is mourning. And despite her being captive in the Spring Court all her life, she is also mourning her home.

On the fourth day, the inner circle intervene.

They creep into the room and perch around the bed, where Rhys is sitting with his back against the headboard and Feyre's head in his lap.

"Hello," Mor says shyly. The corner of Rhys's mouth lifts, because Mor is never shy. "My name is Mor. This is Cassian, Azriel, and Amren."

Feyre's eyes track around the circle, but she doesn't say anything.

"I know you don't know us," Mor goes on. "But I think we know you, a little. And we really want to be your friends."

Mor shuffles a little further up the bed, and looks to Cassian. Cassian blinks and then startles forward, emptying a bag over the mattress. He clears his throat.

"Rhys told us you haven't eaten much," he said. "So ah, we've brought you some things we thought you might like."

Feyre sits up slowly. Rolling over the covers are what seem to be an array of fruits, although she doesn't recognise many. There are flowers too, and the ones she does know are edible.

"We'll give you some space now, if you like," Mor says. "We just wanted to introduce ourselves."

"No," Feyre says. Her voice is scratchy from not being used. "Stay."

Mor beams at that, and Rhys knows it's her most winning, most luminous smile. No one can deny Mor when she smiles like that.

"We're really glad you're here Feyre," she says.

The others shuffle closer too now, and when Feyre picks up a fruit and rolls it in her hands, Azriel carefully plucks it from her fingers and slices it open with a black blade from his hip.

"This is a pomegranate," he tells her, handing it back. "It's an autumn fruit."

Feyre pulls it apart in her lap. "It looks like rubies," she marvels.

Rhys picks up a couple of seeds that have fallen on the bed, and places them on her tongue. "Welcome to the night court," he says by her ear, and the juice bursts bright and sharp between her teeth.

****

Argh sorry I know that was a clunky chapter and I CANNOT write battle scenes, I normally wouldn't try but I had to get Feyre out of the spring court yet without being helpless. So, bear with me I'm going straight back to my comfort zone I just had to move the plot along 😬

MASTERLIST

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[cephalopodie]

[Image Description: A reply from tumblr user survivorboy12 reading: “Typical therapod kin” /End ID]

Every time someone refers to paleontology as a fandom I lose 10 years of my life

[onyx-the-dino-hybrid]

The titan continues down this pathway, deep into forests where sunlight was almost nonexistent from the canopy overhead. Stray beams of sunlight managing to creep through the entertwining branches and foliage.

However while this went on, the titan felt the little beasts movements in his palm. Slowly she felt her weight shift as his massive arm and powerful three clawed fist slowly raising her up towards his eye. An eye large enough to shine a faint red glow upon her dark and vibrant colorings. A slit pupil contracted as thin as paper as he focused on the little beast in his grasp. The massive therapod who bared resemblance to his raptor kin, huge raised sickle claws the size of a bus it seemed were raised and leaving two toed footprints behind him.

Her reflection even visible in the reds of his eyes, similar to her own gaze... but filled with the look of someone who had done far many horrendous things in his time.

The beast soon gave a low growl, grunting and groaning as to see if this newly awoken creature was capable of any form of communication. Be it human speech or raptorian clicks and chirps. He could do both.

onyx-the-dino-hybrid‌:

As drowsiness washed over the now grounded female, many things were heard going on around her. Vehicles pulling up towards her location as well as aircrafts attempting to land. However, as they prepared her for transport, the ground thundered as if tremors rippled through the ground. Birds flew off towards the west as if they saw something similar to a hell spawn in the direction they came from.

Her state of mind may have trouble processing all of what was about to happen… but to summarize, humans merely screamed, weapons open fired… a roar unlike any other, rattled the ground and blasted through the wind like a bomb. Weapons were firing but soon flames went…

BOOM!!!

Nothing but orange flames as hot as the sun paraded all around, the screaming humans, the anger and fear in their shrieks… were gone… a ringing sound perhaps could be heard from such sounds… however in the middle of all this destruction she may not even be able to comprehend, a massive titanic shadow peered down over her almost lifeless carcass. Warm breaths like puffs from a jet engine washed over her extraordinary scales… however, soon all she would see was the figure reach down with a massive limb, three massive claws lined its hands like a traditional Theropod saurian, slowly picking her up off the ground and moving forward into the woodlands. Whatever happened, this thing saved her life… or perhaps it wanted her to itself… whichever was the case, she would need answers once she came to.

And even when she was to come to, she would still he held in the right grip of the titan. It’s hand wrapping around her body restricting her wings, legs, and arms. Leaving her head and tail to dangle out the opposite ends of his fists while his huge feet rumbled the ground with each step.

The sounds, the sights, it felt like a dream. Viseria could not make out any of it and her vision continued to fade in and out. The wolfsbane in her system was working all too quickly - the spike of adrenaline in her body was the only thing keeping her conscious at this point and even then she could barely do a thing. 

Her mind felt blank. No questions. No thoughts. There was just nothing. She heard the chaos, the screaming, the sound of something large and it’s shadows, but her mind failed to really process any of it. By the time everyone had been killed, Viseria had already slipped away. Unconscious before the creature who had seemingly saved her from capture, had lifted her from the ground and carried her off. 

It would be several hours before she wakes up. The dosage of wolfsbane in her system was not large enough to kill her, but it was enough to ensure she would not wake up before she was in proper containment. She was not the largest dragon, but she packed the power of one. The people who held her captive before kept her locked in a cage that was built using a rare - special type of metal. 

Eventually in those few hours that had passed by, she did begin to wake. Her eyes held tightly closed, a small groan within her chest, her tail lazily swaying back and forth for a moment. Eyes blinked open and close. It would take a moment to process what was happening, her head tipping from one side to the other to take in the sights. 

Missing the large creature that held her was impossible, and she quickly came to realize that she could not move, however, her squirming was all but weak. The wolfsbane had consequently drained away her energy, and it would take a bit to regain her strength. 

@onyx-the-dino-hybrid