#To The Young Anglerfish

[noncompliantcyborg]

To the young anglerfish

Kay Ryan

For now and for the next 400-plus generations, the hornlike symptom on your brow will itch and be subject to irritation. At that point it will begin to resemble a modification useful for tricking food. It will at last begin to begin to do some good. Meanwhile, the problems of life enhance: an awkwardness attends the mating dance and an inexplicable thoughtfulness at the wrong moments. That part of you that is pledged to the future abstracts you in some way from nature with the small n. You feel a comical, budding power, and then you don't again.

from Elephant Rocks, Grove Press, 1996.

[incorrectshantaequotes]

Anglerfish Siren: I'm trying to be all nonchalant here.

Plink: Why? Be as chalant as you like!

[witches-come]

The biology understander has logged on.

[snowysmol]

Remember to give your f/os lots of extra hugs!!

Aaa thank you, I will!!

[meruz]

outer wilds the space game? 👀 what kind of suggestions are you looking for? my favourite location are the brambles with the anglerfish, if you wanna try your hand with that :) or Hal if you just wanna do characters <3

cheating bc i already had the sketch for this just lying around but heres a young hal and hatchling.

[cobaltbluesu]

SDCNBMILVFOG FKJCHDGMDSJOVHBGIVCUVGNHMKJDFIKZ\OJXIDCFVDNACLKMSXDJVFGNBMDJ VK,MCDXVNBHGCIVXMGIFZSKJ\CFDXHFLUVCK,MDLVIFHCJDFKGJNVSKLNMGHBIJDMXC,FMDIMXNDFVI,MZPVX~,CVJL,DVJFXSAJCIODFUHUGNNXFVILGJLGMLFJXV,CIV,KVIDONJFMBLJÇXDZDFHMVFDDKZCSJIHFCDVVNZMKLCOZFLJZZIJXD´ZDXC,OVXLKNVJNCNXOXZ\J\ZFOO

Mild Outer Wilds spoilers! Feldspar and Slate art for @cobaltbluesu! The Quantum Poem is traditionally associated with Gabbro, but I had an idea in mind to use it for these two.

[koalajay]

Hermit-a-day May Day 20: Gem!

Killing the anglerfish had put a curse upon the young sailor, slowly turning her into the very beast she slayed

[dingodad]

Hi! I like your work and I saw one post a year ago in which some "Balrogs" were mentioned. Is it possible to get some information about them and their biology maybe? I'm asking here because I haven't found any information about them on all three of your accounts.

thanks! it's crazy that this keeps coming up even 10 years later LOL. the balrogs were the subject of literally one single post which contained the following information:

they are a "cousin species" to cherubs

their genders align with order (blue) and chaos (red) rather than creation and destruction

they transform into giant scorpions rather than giant snakes

the post you saw on this blog is the second time in a decade i have ever drawn or talked about this concept so there is not a lot else to go around but because you asked nicely i drew some more pictures and thought about them a bit more:

instead of discarding a shared personality upon maturity, balrogs consume their mates and make them part of their body. they take on their final scorpion form together, with the losing partner becoming the tail (above). sort of like the male anglerfish who shrinks down to just a sexual organ attached to the female

cherubs are angels who fly through space so balrogs live in the cores of planets instead (duh)

cherubs are associated with black holes and astrophysics so balrogs are connected to quantum mechanics and the physics of tiny particles (where order / chaos and probability are important physical forces)

^ in connecting those two things, balrogs could have the ability to burrow not just into the earth but into the atomic substructure of all matter. so they can travel across the universe to meet and fight but through back channels rather than actually being able to fly through space

they use the Forge / other volcanoes to lay their eggs in the cores of planets and then the eggs hatch when the inhabitants of that planet dig deep enough to awaken them? like the story of the balrog in lord of the rings

the eggs would hatch into millions of babies like spider eggs and the swarm of young balrogs would spread across the planet to potentially disastrous effect. but only one or a few ultimately survive to grow into the cosmically powerful adult stage

i think the discovery of a balrog egg sac in the core of your planet could be like a kind of cosmic test determining whether the civilisation on that planet aligns more with the forces of order or chaos. and maybe the results of that test determine which type of balrog survives to adulthood

unless people have more questions i don't particularly have plans to do anything further with balrogs but you're not the only person who has expressed interest so i think it would be fun if anyone who is interested in the idea could play with it themselves and see what they come up with :)

[jacktheeldergod2]

You find a weird folded paper in your wallet. It describes how 3 months from now a monster will come to your area and you have to deal with it. Below is the list of monsters,one of which you must tick off,lest all of them arrive. Your choices are the following:

Sinless Steve:a dazzling wrestler with long thick messy hair,blessed with the ability of no one realizing when he does a sin or breaks a law or even says something bad. He's also strong enough to walk through steel as if it was tinfoil and durable enough to get run over by a car and be pretty much unscathed,thus he has to turn his powers off to wrestle. Apart from that he is a normal human serial killer through and through. No details were given on why he kills people instead of just robbing a company and buying enough drugs to kill an elephant like a normal person would

An invisible dinosaur with human intelligence. While not specifying the type of dinosaur an image of a car with a stepped on,crushed front was provided so that's a way to gauge its size. The dinosaur was described as a callous,sadistic creature that is very racist towards humans and said its feathers were a mutated ochre color. No mentions of what this mutation is were present in the letter

A strigoi which means a mythical nosferatu looking ass vampiric undead. It is strong as hell and more aggressive than a hyena. In its previous life it was a renowned fisherman and it still uses a fishing rod haunted by his wife. He uses it to catch people. If you hold religious faith holding a religious symbol up will hurt him a little. You could torture some occult knowledge out of him maybe

Hisia:a decrepit looking smelly sludge amoeba that eats plant life. It's a slime monster basically. Sings a weird bellowing song that makes people tremble,those who get close enough having their organs rupturing from the sound. Smells like rotten food,so much so that flies constantly die trying to go towards it

Lebo Nigoryx:a 10 meter tall troll with 4 heads and 9 arms. their blood is acid,their mere breath poison and the touch of their scorched palms is a wildfire,setting aflame all they touch. Weakened by lead. Has a specific grudge on native americans. Or it prefers their taste. Afraid of hawks

Kevin Jameson Jones:a man from a parallel earth with multiple steampunk enhancements in his body. The machine implanted on his chest allows him to change into different mutated forms including an anglerfish form,a really tall hermaphrodite human form,a beastly canine form,a hyper fast feline form,a songbird form and a fire breathing pangolin form. This knock-off Ben ten does human experimentations to test new forms he could make. If you beat him he will willingly transplant his machines to you and then live to serve you as long as you allow him to add more forms. Has baggy eyes and messy black hair but his machines keep him from going pale or frail

Alertharax: an angel of another world that has come to "cleanse the unclean". It looks like a pangolin the size of a rhino,with platinum plates,golden claws and scaled grey skin. Only attacks at night and never appears under the sun's gaze. Seems to be able to mind control young teenagers and children to a minor degree. Speaks calmly but in a shrieky,gravelly voice

The truest warrior:a man that has a life extending item called the pugilist's polyhedron that lets him lengthen his life in purpose of training. Knows most martial arts armed or unarmed. Is supernaturally physically abled due to training for more than 14000 years. Cannibalizes the random people he chooses to fight and always beats. Looks 40 years old,has scars older than your family name. Has a satchel with an unknown amount of weapons that all magically fit there

Ogallon the river scourge:a maroon colored dragon as tall as a rhino with a torso as long as a bus and 12 legs. Swims around in sewers,rivers,lakes and other places of water. Eats humans just to bring misery,hates loudness. His tail has a scorpion stinger with a poison that turns those hit into undead wraiths. He has never lost a battle and never had a scar given to him by anyone who wasn't themselves a dragon. Hoards metals of any kind

@1969chevycamaro @whereserpentswalk @everythingismadeofchaos @techiekittie @trashsouppossum @ononpetitecroissant @parsley-and-lesbianism @polkadotsunshine @strange-and-stupid @doyoudreamofwater @dackychansworldofhoshino @dh-ng @decoysender @foxundermoon @frozen-antifreeze @gloriousvermin @kinkshame-puncher-666 @kirkland-brand-witch @leavesswaytoday @bisexual-bat @bellaphomet3 @mmmmmmky @mun-urufu @moonsfavoritedaughter

[dawnholde-if]

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

╔═══════《���》═══════╗

WELCOME TO DAWNHOLDE

INSTITUTE FOR THE ARCANE

╚═══════《✧》═══════╝

Dear [REDACTED],

Hello, and thank you for applying to the Dawnholde Institute, located in Solador, Land of Eclipses. We're pleased to offer you acceptance to the Institute as a first-year student. During your time here, you'll strengthen your specialty magic, as well as branch out to other types to diversify your skill set. We boast the top magic programs in the land for students, with fulfilling extracurriculars and a competitive environment designed to help every young mage and magician thrive, as well as students from a variety of backgrounds as a testament to the diversity of our world.

We look forward to your arrival, and hope that your years with us will be filled with enlightenment.

Praise be to the Sun,

Eruless Chromavere, Head of Magical Studies

You are the firstborn child of the Monarch of the island nation of Sparia, located in the treacherous Sacred Sea. You're set to inherit the throne once the current Monarch has passed on, but you could want nothing less. Becoming the greatest mage in the land is your end goal, so one night you flee to Solador, home to the Dawnholde Institute for the Arcane, the best magic school in the realm. It's been your dream to go there ever since you were young.

Keep your identity hidden to stay out of prying eyes and out of the way of your parent's spies trying to bring you back. Make allies and enemies while keeping up with your studies, join a club (or not), and... fall in love ? That's not part of the plan, but things happen, just don't let it distract you.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary and choose your pronouns

Decide which magic to specialize in, be it elemental, healing, object manipulation, or a number of any other kinds.

Meet 6 RO's, 3 of which are gender selectable

Take lessons in various magical subjects on your quest for greatness

Academic Rivals to Friends (to Lovers ?)

There is a dragon guy :)

Summon one of 4 familiars

Avoid the drama that plagues all schools

Name: Finch K. Lorelai

Pronouns: They/Them Heritage: Half-Elf Magical Specialty: Necromancy Year: 2nd Brief Description: Finch comes from a long lineage of necromancers, is widely considered one of the only child prodigies to come out of that field, and possesses the ability to speak to the dead. They're ambitious and your self-proclaimed academic rival. They don't like sharing the top spot and is antagonistic towards you, even more so if they learn your true identity. The lines between disdain and affection are very fine, however, and there's the possibility to sweep their feet out from under them when they least expect it.

Name: Desily Bramblecove

Pronouns: She (default)/They (selectable) Heritage: Faefolk (Pixie) Magical Specialty: Shapeshifting Year: 3rd Brief Description: Desily is a difficult spirit to pin down, often doing what she wants when she wants to. She loves playing hard to get and causing general uproar, then slipping away to let others deal with the aftermath. She's fickle, even for a fae, but obsessive. If you're not careful, you may fall into her grasp without even realizing it. If you so choose to spend time with her, be prepared to partake in any schemes she may cook up.

Name: Merrick Midae

Pronouns: They (default)/He/She (selectable) Heritage: Merfolk (Anglerfish) Magical Specialty: Light Manipulation Year: 1st Brief Description: A shy, not-very-little merperson who came to land to study all manners of magic. A jack of all trades, Merrick is a little good at most magic, but they wanted to learn more about what was beyond the sea. They're not the bravest, but they'd do anything for a close friend. Perhaps they'll take a liking to you.

Name: Caidrith, Ruler of Rime

Pronouns: He (default)/She/They (selectable) Heritage: Draconic Royalty Magical Specialty: Ice and Temperature manipulation Year: 4th Brief Description: Caidrith, or simply Caid, as you know him, is the only person at Dawnholde who knows of your past. Caid is the second-born to the rulers over northern dragonkin. Though his chances of accquiring the throne are low, it's better to be safe than sorry. He enrolled in the school to learn self defense, then stuck around for the people. You've known him since childhood, as your parents often had strategy meetings together. He can be stoic, but you know Caid cares for you, though maybe not in a way you know of.

Name: Rycharde, Knight of the Tainted Lands

Pronouns: He/Him Heritage: Catfolk Magical Specialty: Protection and Healing Year: 3rd Brief Description: Rycharde hails from a plague-ridden kingdom on it's last legs. Catfolk are usually able to use magic due to distant Fae ancestery, but Rycharde has no innate magic. Instead, he draws on the patron deity of his city for his power, making him a magician instead of a mage. He's proud of his failing homeland and devoted to his city, but that's not the only thing he could turn his attention to. After all, temptation is one hell of a motivator.

Name: Cere Quicrow

Pronouns: She/Her Heritage: Manifested Air Elemental (Birdfolk appearance) Magical Specialty: Divination Year: 1st Brief Description: Cere takes the form of a birdfolk, but is a manifested elemental in reality. She takes great pride in her appearance and is quite vain, but hates being the center of attention and keeps to herself. She's flighty and a perfectionist, leaving herself conflicted on what she really wants, be it freedom and impulsive decisions or to finish her "secret project." Maybe she'll let you in on it if you're nice to her?

DEMO [TBA] \\ CAST LIST [TBA] \\ ASKBOX \\ DEV DISCORD \\ CARRD [TBA]

[anglingforlevels]

Nature's Losers (Yandere Anglerfish x Reader)

CW: body horror, violence, non-graphic death depiction, reader is kinda useless in this, swearing. stalking and general creepiness, monsterfuckery, bad writing, dead dove.

Minors DNI

In nature, there’s winners and losers. Although enthusiastic biology professors throughout your school years had argued that, by virtue of surviving and continuing to survive and reproduce, there weren’t any losers among the living.

Late-night nature programs made it hard to agree, when they featured hapless creatures like the male anglerfish, doomed to fumble through the darkness through smell to find an elusive mate with the only end goal of holding onto the mate they found, ultimately, dying a parasite. Nature certainly picks losers, or so you had thought back then.

You hadn’t spared much thought for the female anglerfish in your assessment, it just seemed obvious that the loser in the equation was the male.

That day too, the day you met it.

It was a simple day by the oceanside, you were trying to enjoy a warm summer day through an increasingly harsh breeze, emphasize on trying, as the breeze seemed determined to outgrow its label of breeze to become a gust of wind, an achievement of personal growth that you were not in support of.

That’s when you spotted him. By the rocky hillside, where the rowdy waves crashed against rocks out amidst the water, before growing still and reaching its end by the hillside, but not without having splashed said hillside wet in the process. A small figure laid, collapsed, among the rocky land.

“Is that a child?!”

Panicked, you rushed out there, navigating between slippery rocks and wet sand. Your outfit clinging to your legs, which you ignored in your pursuit to reach the collapsed child. Getting closer, it didn’t seem to be a child at all.

Though, he was small. He seemed barely big enough to go to your armpit, even as his figure was fully splayed out. But he didn’t seem particularly young, or even youthful. He didn’t seem old or mature either. He just seemed odd. He felt undefined, like something that hadn’t been developed or fully rendered, with colors washed out.

Stepping closer, your heart rate spiked as you noticed the way his skin seemed too pale and paper-thin, he almost felt transparent, so much so that it felt as if a lazy sunbeam would reveal shadows of bones encased in flesh. Christ, had you found a corpse? He didn’t look bloated like a drowned corpse ordinarily would, quite the opposite but still, was this really a living person?

With his brittle and scrawny figure laid out, bruised and still upon the rocks, it really felt as if you were watching a shattered doll carefully positioned. You swallowed.

“Hey, uh, are you- are you okay?”

At this, he opened up his eyes, revealing one key characteristic of note. Big, milky-white, and slightly bulging eyes. You startled a little at the sudden intensity as he fixed you with a relentless stare, for how lifeless the rest of him had seemed, it appeared as if all life in him had been dedicated to those eyes, and yet their dedicated stare felt purposeless, as if it he saw nothing.

You quickly snapped out of it, instead shifting to relief at the fact he wasn’t dead.

“Hey, what happened?” You asked, but he simply continued staring at you, not even shifting his head, instead following your movements with his eyes exclusively. You cleared your throat before trying again with a gentler tone. “Hey, it’s okay. Can you tell me who are you?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his mouth slightly, and while you weren’t sure what that really meant – and you were increasingly unsettled by the lack of blinking – you decided to brush the growing discomfort aside. Really, given his situation, acting a little unsettling didn’t seem too unreasonable, the guy was probably in shock, so you took the fact he reacted at all, as a good sign.

You laid a hand on his shoulder, hoping it might offer some comfort, but almost retracted it per reflex at his cold, clammy skin.

“Goodness, you’re freezing.” You were about to take off your cardigan for some kind of cover, when you realized that your clothes was, of course, soaking wet and clinging to you, from the climb here. So, instead you held him, hoping your body warmth could provide anything, as you frantically fumbled with your phone to call for an ambulance. Honestly, with a temperature like this, you were surprised he wasn’t a corpse yet.

He burrowed further into your embrace, his head resting in the crook of your neck, as if desperate to get closer than what the laws of physics allowed. His breathing grew heavier, and his teeth accidentally scratched you in what you assumed was clumsily expressed distress, you couldn’t tell if the drips you felt was tears or simply ocean water. You tried to soothe him by rubbing his back as your call got through.

Sitting like this, more than anything, you had felt that nature really did pick losers, a pitiful truth.

You weren’t sure how long it took before the ambulance arrived, but the chill of his body felt as if it had seeped through you, zapping out most of your own warmth, and you were now shivering yourself as well. You were planning on going home for a warmth bath and then going to bed, since you had work in the morning, and your boss weren’t exactly lenient, so even with your spare time being spent like this, you hoped to at least be well-rested physically.

But when they tried to usher him off you to cover him in a blanket, he clung desperately onto you, nails digging into your skin. Your heart ached for him, it really did, you were sure he were feeling disorientated and scared, but it was best to leave this kind of thing in the hands of professionals, and, while you felt like a jerk for it, you still had to think about yourself and your depressingly early shift tomorrow morning, a shift you’d only survive through with the company of your friend and coworker Julia, and the upcoming weekend off.

Prying him off you was easy. Even his desperate, fumbling grasp around you didn’t amount to being much more than feathery, with even gentle prying leaving him stumbling a bit from the force. It was hard to tell if it was due to his sickly state or just general, physical weakness.

You did really hope the best for him.

“Hm?”

On your way home, as you separated from the crowd after a good ten minutes of walking, you took notice of steps behind you that echoed out with a loud, inelegant thud, thud, thud. You turned around and furrowed your brows in perplexation. The sickly complexion and the stare was undeniable – it was him.

Walking with clumsy steps, he moved forward with the blank, staring expression he had donned when you first found him as well, a poorly wrapped blanket still around him but gliding off as he continued to move forth slowly but resolutely, paying it no mind.

“Did you… Follow me?”

All the way from the oceanside? Your hands felt clammy at the thought of him following you between the crowds and many corners – it couldn’t be an accident, and in the first place, he was supposed to have been in a hospital by now, or at the very least, still inside the ambulance.

He didn’t answer, though you hadn’t expected him to, he just kept moving closer and closer. Perhaps it was his empty stare and clumsy movements, but it felt as if he moved with one singular purpose, not as in he was driven, but rather, he lacked any other intentions behind his movement than his goal.

Something deep within you seemed to come undone at that, an unsettling feeling grasping hold of you. You didn’t think he was able of hurting you, really, you were surprised he could even stand, yet goosebumps littered your skin, there was just something wrong about him.

He can’t do anything to you, it’s okay. It’s fine. You reminded yourself through a shaky breath. That’s right, you bested him physically, so, you ran. With the speed he was at right now, you could surely manage to lose him, and then that would be that.

You’d avoid this area for a while, it wasn’t like you came here a lot anyway, and that would be the last of this. It felt more like you were pleading with yourself rather than stating a fact, and you hated that sense of irrationality, after all, that was all it was.

This was creepy but not dangerous, you were sure, you had to be sure. So, you ran. You ran and didn’t stop. Not until your lungs and sides burned, and you stood before your apartment complex. Looking around, he was nowhere to be seen. Even after entering the building, which only residents could enter, and your dingy apartment, you didn’t see him from your small window.

The warm bath helped calm your nerves a bit and you went to bed, to face a new day, one devoid of him.

 

“Okay, so you think he went Wolverine on the door. Wasn’t he like, super weak?” Julia asked, as she unloaded the cargo of the day, prompting a sigh from you.

This morning, when you had woken up and left for the bus, you had noticed scratches on the door to the building, and had had a sinking feeling, but you hadn’t seen anything of him or any other sign of him. you had confided in Julia about the experience, though Julia seemed skeptical about whether the scratches even made up a sign about him having managed to find your apartment to begin with.

“I don’t know, I know it sounds stupid, but seriously, he just kept following me.” You reiterated this for what must have been the thousandth time, and judging by Julia’s expression, that estimate couldn’t be far off.

“Have you considered calling the police about stalking?”

“Well, it’s not like he’s done anything, or that I know he’s stalking me. It’s not like I saw him by my apartment to begin with.”

And stalking didn’t feel like the right word. It felt more like you were being pursued. Less thought-out and hidden, instead he seemed to be following the most direct path he could perceive towards you in the most literal way possible, and while it should feel less threatening and invasive, the simplicity and literalness of his behavior didn’t do much in the way of comfort.

Most of all, you didn’t feel like it warranted a call to the police, especially with a pursuer this ineffective at pursuit. Not when you had heard stories of others reporting stalking, cases much worse and more explicit, yet getting dismissed, you were sure your case would get you laughed out of the station.

And then, a bump took them out of the conversation, and your heart dropped. At the door, he stood. Fumbling around, lightly bumping into the door in attempts to open it or bypass it. “No fucking way.”

Julia glanced at the small, scrappy guy clumsily failing to open a door, with a raised eyebrow. “And this is the guy that’s got you all worried? I mean, freaked out I get, but…”

But I doubt he could do much, even if he tried.

You looked away, frowning. Julia took notice and sighed, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

It felt unfair, but somehow you almost felt worse from her words. Julia had always lived by the idea that, even if something wasn’t necessarily real, it still felt real to the person who was upset. But you knew that this was real, this pit in your stomach, it wasn’t for nothing, it wasn’t just nerves, you just couldn’t… explain it.

Julia understood it was terrifying to see someone possibly following you, and even though the store was public, she understood it being scary to see him here all of a sudden, without knowing if it was a coincident or on purpose, but for you, it was more than that, but you couldn’t put it into words. You didn’t understand it. The frustrating acid of “it’s real for you” poisoned Julia’s good intentions, but you swallowed the bitterness, and smiled a forced smile.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s… it’s fine.”

Julia shook her head. “It’s not. You don’t feel safe, and that’s not okay. Listen, we’ll be going on our weekend camping trip tomorrow, and there’s no way that the guy who can’t figure out doors, can find you out there, so… Stay at my place tonight, then we’ll go camping, and we’ll figure this out, alright?”

She squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, and you felt a pang of guilt. God, you were such an asshole. You nodded, but your eyes were still fixed on him, luckily no one had gone through the door, thus giving him access, because you needed this job, you couldn’t afford any more late rent and your boss was an asshole, so bailing wasn’t an option but if he got into the store, you’d… Fuck, you wished you could barricade the doors.

Then suddenly he stopped his fruitless attempts, maybe even he had a limit wherein he recognized something to be futile. His vacant eyes shot up and stared directly at you. And he simply stood like that, absentmindedly clenching his jaw as if chewing. Your heart pounded against your chest, it felt almost painful as if you felt an actual recoil from its force, but you couldn’t focus on that when the world seemed to blur together around you, leaving only his eyes, pooling in all light despite their own pale shine.

Julia glanced at you, worry barely hidden on her face, before clapping her hands resolutely. “That’s it – By now, even our boss will accept us having called the cops on this guy for being a public nuisance. Or, if nothing else, he’ll agree that the guy is definitely scaring customers away, what with the blocking of the door and general creepiness.” Julia said, though you suspected she’d be scolded for it regardless, and you knew that she knew that too.

He had begun to lean against the door. Man, you couldn’t wait for camping trip…

 

Even when time seems to stand still, eventually it caves in, making way for the approaching future, settling into the current present, which was, unfortunately, you sweating profusely as you fought to set up a tent, but even the frustrating battle of tents could not deter your relief and joy at finally having arrived at the weekend, and more importantly, the camping trip.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to bend that way.” Julia commented. You rolled your eyes at it.

“A lot of words coming from the person not helping me set it up.”

“Hey, you oh so cruelly banished me from helping, remember?”

“You’re just not that good at it.”

“Right, because this is the pinnacle of putting up tents. I salute your hard work.”

Julia’s unhelpful commentary aside, you were almost done, you just needed to focus. As if that was a cue, your focus was shattered by something rushing through a bush, and instinctively let go of the tent, as you tensed up.

And then a rabbit jumped out, making its escape from the loud sound of tent gear clattering. The world felt woozy for a moment as you collected yourself, breathlessly laughing. The tension still lingered in the air, but Julia made quick work of it.

“I gotta say, I think I’m a little better at putting up tents than that.” She said, gesturing to the pile of now fully undone work. The tension dissolved and the nervous laughter turned sincere. Julia was, benevolently, allowed to assist with setting up the tent – to her great dismay – and you laughed and talked together as you set up camp.

After a job well-done, you both felt a meal was in order, so Julia found the ingredients as you collected firewood while the sun was still out. With your arms full of twigs, your attention suddenly snapped to a bush, at the sound of the leaves being rustled quite harshly. No doubt by a particularly ungraceful critter, hopefully one as cute as the rabbit.

You were about to laugh and comment on how they must be a magnet for forest animals when a small but very humanoid figure stepped forth instead.

Your blood seemed to freeze.

It wasn’t like it was impossible to follow them. With the smarts and know-how, one could find out where they were camping. And then, it was just as simple as taking an uber. Or you could simply trail Julia’s car here.

Except, the torn clothes. The scarred and bruised skin. The ruffled, dirtied look. He had not gotten here by car.   

“Fucking hell.” Julia’s whispered words said it all, fucking hell was right.

You stood frozen. Unable to tear yourself from his stare. He opened his mouth-

“Let’s go!”

It was first when Julia’s frenzied voice called out, and pulled your arm, that you began to move. Absentmindedly, you took notice of his bloody, jagged nails. It took a moment before the adrenaline kicked in, and you stopped being dragged rather than running yourself.

The car, they just had to get to the car and leave. Recoup, figure something out, cool their heads, just, they needed to get away. You practically flung the door open when the two of you reached the old car. Neither of you bothered with seatbelt before starting the car.

But all it did was cough sadly.

“Huh? It can’t have run out of gas.” Julia looked bewildered, trying to start it again, only for it not to turn on at all. “Oh – Oh. You have got to be kidding me”

“Care to clue me in?” Your voice cracked slightly, and Julia glanced at you, before composing herself, and trying to smile reassuringly, though her smile wavered.

“Well, it’s just, the battery. It’s dead. But” she hurriedly added, seeing the way your face fell at her words, “I have an extra one. Since we were going on a trip away from any kind of mechanic.”

“Right… But we didn’t park that far from the camp.” He’ll reach us before.

Julia nodded seriously. “That’s why, we’ll run. We’ll circle around, since he’s following you, if we get him far enough away, we can probably give ourselves enough time. We’ll run straightforward till we reach the cliffs, and then back.”

You didn’t like that idea very much, willingly letting yourself be chased and running around in the forest when dusk was approaching, neither felt appealing. But they didn’t have a lot of options.

“Since I’m the one he’s following, why don’t I do that while you change the battery?”

“And leave you to run around alone with a freak after you? No way. ‘sides, I wouldn’t freeze up in a fight.” Julia said, her smile no longer wavering. You weren’t sure if there was enough words to fully show your appreciation for Julia, warmth pooling in your stomach, despite everything, it felt a little more okay with Julia by your side.

So, the two of you got out of the car, and waited anxiously for the sound of him approaching. Neither of you had talked about how he had gotten here, or known where to find you, perhaps none of you wanted to breach the topic.

Finally, you heard footsteps. And you sprinted. Then after a while, you’d wait for him to get closer. Then sprint again. On repeat. The darkness was rapidly increasing, forcing you to lower your speed, lest you injure yourself, and with the night animals awakening, it was both harder to hear and see him approaching.

“Just a little more, alright?” Julia said, between heavy breaths. The small sound of bells from her necklace and the way she held your hand, was a comforting reminder of her presence, amidst the darkness of the forest, each dancing shadow and crunching leaf reminding you that, hidden somewhere, was he. “Waves, listen, thank god, waves.”

Just as Julia had said, when you strained your ears, you heard the waves crashing into the cliffside. On burning, wobbly legs, you reached your destination, the trees giving way for the cliff edge.

“We probably don’t need to wait for him to be within hearable range, this time. Let’s just make our way ba-“

Crack.

Out he stepped. Only meters away. He lifted his hand up, as if reaching out to you already. You needed to move but only your beating heart seemed to get the memo. Then Julia flashed by, lunging at him.

Watching them both fall to the ground; it was a reminder. No matter how creepy he was, no matter how relentless – he was basically a stack of cards waiting to be knocked down by the wind. But you couldn’t help but feel like there were something more to it, a danger lurking within him.

Even as he was wrestled to the ground, his eyes stayed on you.

“Ouch!” Julia yelped, accidentally letting go of him, clutching her hand. “He bit me. it’s- it’s fine.”

You had seen the red liquid running between her fingers, even though she tried to hide it. It wasn’t fine. He, in the moment of being released, got up and returned to his goal of reaching you. Julia grabbed onto his ankle, forcing him down once more. You noticed that she used only one hand, the other curled up against her chest still.

He kicked his legs while continuing to attempt to crawl closer, somehow not paying attention to Julia beyond “hindered movements”, he seemed to just keep going despite his severe weakness. His kicks were weak but even so, a kick to the face was still unpleasant, enough so that he managed to squirm out of her hold to stand up.

But the sight of Julia’s pained expression, her hand bleeding profusely – you felt angry. Far angrier than the fear that gnawed at your core. Your hand searched for something, landing on a branch, and you jumped forth, hitting him.

You hadn’t expected him to be this frail and light, that it would practically send him flying, edging closer to the edge of the cliff. He stumbled around, the stones beneath his feet too loose for him to regain balance. He grasped blindly out for something to support him, as his body threatened to take a plunge down the cliffside.

His hand reached Julia’s necklace, as she was still laid on the ground. Before she could swat his hands away or do anything – a force stronger than either of us overpowered them, gravity pulling them downwards.

Your heart sank but even moving as fast as you could, you couldn’t reach Julia in time, her strangled scream cut off by the pull of her necklace must have been cutting off her airway before the unruly water ever got a chance.

“Julia!”

It was a long fall, directly into deep water, with jagged cliffs, even so, Julia had to… she had to be… She’d be alright. She just had to be. Frantically, ignoring the growing darkness and your own exhaustion, you ran. You had to get down there, to search for Julia.

You ignored the way your legs and lungs burnt, the way you only managed shallow breaths – you needed to find Julia, to see that she was okay. You don’t know how long it took until you got down to the bottom of the cliffside, but only the bright moon served as any light by now.

Your heart sank further as you stood at the edge of the water. How were you supposed to get over there, it was so far away, it would take you an hour to swim over there when well-rested – more importantly, how was Julia supposed to ever make it back here? With an injured hand to boot.

You ran out anyway, water going up to your ribs, as you desperately called out her name. It was futile, perhaps, but you just couldn’t accept it. If you called and looked, maybe you’d find her, maybe she had managed to get closer. Even though it was an impossible hope, you continued to search.

Each stray touch of seaweed wrapping around your legs made both dread and hope to shoot up in you, only for the same hope to crash into despair once more, that it wasn’t Julia, it wasn’t her. You spent so long out there in the darkness before you finally dragged yourself back to land, and only because the already unruly water had gotten worse, threatening to pull you down, and you knew, if it knocked you down, you wouldn’t be able to get back up, not as you were now.

You sat down on the sand, with legs numb from exhaustion and the cold, and just stared into the water. If you hadn’t used that branch, then Julia would… Julia would still… Exhaustion and grief made both your mind and body feel so incredibly heavy.

Then you heard it. Something else walking out of the water, and the small metallic clang of bells. Your head shot up. “Julia?” you voice couldn’t manage more than hoarse whisper at this point. But out of the water wasn’t Julia, of course, how could it be. It would be impossible to survive falling into such deep water, even if you hadn’t hit any of the sharp edges of the cliff.

That’s why, stone-cold dread turned into lead in your stomach at the sight. From the water emerged a small, soaked figure. It was him, no, it, because no human could have survived this long underwater. It was walking with the same expression as always, eyes finding and locking onto you, and it walked, with the same stumbling ease as always. And around his fingers and hand, Julia’s necklace was entangled, the bells clinging.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t human. Whatever this was, it had dragged Julia down with it.

You had to run, even though the world was spinning from dizziness and exhaustion, you had to run. Even standing up again was a struggle. On numb legs you clumsily ran. Even putting your all into it, you and it was evenly matched in speed now.

It got closer. Each step is accompanied by wet drips and clinging bells.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

You couldn’t see the ground before you. You had run into the forest, you needed to get to the car or civilization, or anything. The trees kept out most of the moons light.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

Branches and bushes caught onto hair and clothes. Leaving stinging nicks on your skin. No matter, continue, run, run, run.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

What way was the car? How had you gotten down here to begin with? Not this way, that’s for sure. Just continue forward, no time to think.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

You felt a pull, your foot getting caught by a root. Falling to the ground, dirt and stones stuck to you. You needed to untangle yourself.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

Oh god, you needed to get free and get back up. You couldn’t see the root, so fumbling blindly in the dark, you tried to pull, pull, pull.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

Cold, clammy hands touched you. Slowly look up from the root, it had crouched down before you. It’s eyes were the only source of light in the darkness of the forest, and you were almost mesmerized. Despite you being the only one out of breath, your jagged breaths were matched by it.

It leaned closer and you realized, the deep breaths – it was sniffing you.

It curled up against your stomach, as if settling to sleep. Was this the goal? It had gotten to you, was this it? Lie together like your first meeting? And then, searing pain shot through the exhaustion. It bit you, teeth tearing through flesh and holding on.

You felt light-headed and nauseous from the pain, or maybe the exhaustion? You couldn’t tell, growing disorientated, unable to focus on anything but the pain, so as the corners of your eyes darkened, you gave in to the numb darkness. As you fell unconscious, you thought you heard bells once more.

 

Your head hurts… That was the first sensation you noticed when you awoke.

It felt as if it was being split in two, a searing fire burning away any sense of emergence and thought, leaving you in hazy pain. Then again, your entire body felt heavy and warm in a drowsy and exhausting type of misery.

It took a moment to connect the sudden pain with anything, blinking yourself back into consciousness. You had been in cold water, maybe it was the flu? But it felt different, your head felt full but more than that, your body was too. There was a foreign sense of fullness, amid the dull, throbbing aches throughout her body, like something burrowing in between the fiery heat.

It was like a steady flow throughout your body, of something cold amidst the warmth. It felt wrong. That’s when you had half a mind to notice the most soaring pain of all was perhaps related to the weight of a very real thing, a very real presence.

On top of you, he… no, it laid, resting its head on your stomach, where it had bit you. God, it had bitten you, maybe it was an infection, no, that didn’t matter, not now.

Off, off, needed it off you.

Though the world spun around you, as dizziness clouded your mind from the simple act of lifting your arm, you managed to place your hands, your awfully clammy hands, on it, and push.

It didn’t budge, rather, the action seemed to hurt you. Like something attempting to tear your flesh off, oh god, was it still biting you? Was that why the pain felt so searing still? As your attempts to push it grew more frantic, it remained unmoved by it.

“Why, why, why the fuck won’t you- god,” tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, and the sensation seemed to bring you further into reality, the pain growing more and more real, and while you somehow had not been crying before, tears turned into full-out sobs and screams.

“You’re so weak, just, god why, why can’t I- off, off, off! I need you to-“ get off me. It had been so weak before, easily pushed and shoved. Then why, why couldn’t you make it budge now, each attempt hurting you further, at some point, you were convinced you heard the sound of flesh tearing, but you weren’t in your right mind to stop hopelessly trying through brute force.

As the pain became too much, the fight ebbed out of you, replaced by exhausted agony, moving already felt so hard, when you felt icy fire alongside the burning inside, and your skin felt… tight, as if it was housing more than it could, something prodding and poking uncomfortably at your own skin.

Had it not been because you could so clearly see the creature, you’d have frantically checked your clothes, at the feeling of intrusion, even if said intrusion seemed to be everywhere within you, all at the same time. As your fighting died out, replaced by breathless sobs, it lifted its head ever so slightly, its milky eyes finding yours, somehow, they didn’t look quite as empty now. You could have sworn the look in its eyes was joyful.

You broke eye contact because (it’s unbearable), because… Right, biting, was he still biting you? You stared blankly for a moment when you finally looked further down. You blinked. Once, twice, thrice. No, no, no, no. You hadn’t woken up yet. That’s it, this wasn’t real. Oh god, no, no, no. You blinked again, four times, five times, six times.

But the sight before you remained the same.

His lower face seemed as if melted, seeping into your skin. You couldn’t tell where his skin ended and yours began, as his face stretched out awkwardly, like melted wax, only the top retaining a semblance to his earlier appearance, though the skin around his eyes felt awfully loose, as if dragged down by the weight of… You? This?

Its nails dug into your skin, drawing blood, as its arms encircled you, and it nuzzled closer as if this proximity still wasn’t enough; more skin breaking loose and absolving before your eyes, as if watching a melting clay figure, the skin burning as it melted into yours.

Nature really did pick losers.

[griefabyss69]

Pulling

Written for @steddiemicrofic!

[ AO3 ] [ Tip / Commissions post ]

‘EDGE’ wc: 509 | rated: T | cw: Still just weed!

Here's 2/4 of Eddie's side of The Hole Story (Rated E), there will be 2 more installments <3

Steve surprises Eddie by accepting his offer.

His favorite customer shouldn't be Steve.

The guy who just last year he'd wanted to knock down ten pegs, who he would try to scare with the big bad satanic wolf routine, who he'd been so pissed off about lusting after that he didn't dare complain even about it even while three sheets to the wind in Gareth's garage after band practice.

He's just so… he's so.

God.

He'd been staring at Eddie's mouth again, encouraging the stupid habit of constantly licking his lips, getting them all chapped which is not fucking sexy, not copacetic to the whole “I’m a young adult in the big wild oyster of the world” thing…

Jesus Christmas.

Despite the massive hots he has for the guy, he really shouldn't have done the whole "Call me if you get bored" thing, transparently flirting as crystal clear as a fancy whiskey glass, or even worse, showing he cared about how his holidays went.

Just because there's something sad about him that makes Eddie want to dig in and figure him out with his teeth. Just because he has his big eyes and pouty mouth and sure hands.

Just because whenever Eddie gets a smile out of him it's like the big guy in the sky decided to come down and personally award him with an angel's blessing.

And he can admit it, he was wrong. The jock stain doesn't lacquer Steve with a sparkling clean glaze. He's all ocean surface and the deepest water; coral and anglerfish and other fucked up things all live inside of him but some of them glow in the dark to get by and he thinks that maybe Steve does too.

He's got secrets obviously, but he's maybe the most sincere person Eddie's ever met.

Still.

He doesn't expect the call.

Even after the friendly not-flirting, the little touches to his hands, the way if he looked closely he could see the way Steve's cheeks were getting pink because Eddie was playing with his lip and not because of the chill in the air.

The jury's still out on if homosexuality is one of Steve's sad little secrets, but Eddie hopes it is because he's a traitor to himself.

His voice is all tinny on the shitty old phone and it should've been unpleasant but instead there was a laser light dance party going on in Eddie's stomach.

Steve wants to hang out. No transactions involved.

"So like, yeah… If you want, I'm free?"

It sounds like more than what it is, like Steve's offering up his naked chest and asking him to feast on it.

But Eddie doesn't want to rip him open.

Instead he stares at the edges of his own life, finds places to fit him in seamlessly. Places that would change forever with Steve’s presence even if they're just going to smoke a joint and lament about how winter's so different now that they're adults.

He cracks one of those edges open, and smiles into the phone.

"Yeah, come over, I made cookies. They're even edible."

[random-music-generator]

Yes, it is blasphemous, and an affront to the novel, but I wrote a 136th chapter to Moby-Dick because I wanted to and Melville is too dead to stop me. Spoilers because of course.

C H A P T E R  1 3 6

The Ocean

There are two things in this world which are infinite: the depth of the human soul, and the surface of the ocean. As I unyieldingly embraced that coffin which should have been mine, I found myself submerged completely within both; and while I do not claim to be a remarkable man, I maintain that no person, alive or dead, has ever drowned so many times in so many ways and remained sputteringly, ruthlessly alive. Staring out upon that endless expanse of rolling water, I was not gently carried away by distant reflections like all those times atop the mast-head; I was instead frozen in place, as if I clutched a fresh-broken chunk of iceberg, and struck over and over again by frigid waves, and made a chattering human corpusant by heavenly, sharpened lances of electricity; surrounded by water, beautiful and clear and shimmering, yet too paralyzed to swim, and too parched to scream, and convinced that rather than shakily holding my head above and my feet below, I had been turned upside-down, breathing in liquid and floating through air, staring up at the anglerfish lure of the sun as if it would swallow me whole and deliver me to the very same hell Jonah once talked his way out of. But I cannot talk, let alone pray; there is water in my desert, sunken lungs, seaweed and rope around my shuttered throat, driftwood and rust where there once was innocent flesh. To be surrounded by water, but unable to cry, unable even to drown; that is the bitter reality of Ishmael, the destined prison of Ahab, the unconsidered tragedy of Moby-Dick. As I floated, I imagined myself to be the white whale himself, stuck with the long-overgrown harpoons of a million windward traumas, witness to massacre after massacre at the hands of some wooden leviathan and its rabid, starving young, piloted by my hunters, the monomaniac, iron-browed sharks, tails nicked once by a flying harpoon, drawn back by the smell of blood from miles around for vengeance, biting at my toes, my feet, my legs, already dead, already bone, already broken, already stabbed, already picked clean of meat, fallen to the bottom of the ocean and picked clean of nutrients, feeding the cycle of sustenance, hunger, starvation, murder, death, and picked clean of memory, all particles—all my righteous, sinning particles—scattered across the infinity of the ocean, and, over an uncountable number of years, boiled till crackling in the try-works of the Earth’s core, fished out, and deposited into the furnace, spitting oil, coughing up water, peeling open eyes I hadn’t realized were plastered shut, lying face-up in a coffin, utterly unsure if the bearded face above me was God himself or the softly smiling captain of the poor, cursed Rachel. I could not recognize the feeling of my own skin wrapped around my aching bones. He asked my name. You ask my name. I forget. Call me Ishmael. Get up. Blow out your cannibal candle. Walk to your front door. Walk out onto the street with your eyes closed and spin. Spin until you feel sick. Spin until you hear the wind in your ears. Spin until you hear the screech of the albatross. Spin until you feel suspended in air, tangled in rope, submerged in the oil of your own head. Spin until you breach out of the dark, dreary, infinite forecastle depth of your soul. Spin until you feel the unwaning, infinite, atheistic, divine, natural and supernatural magnetism of the ocean; and walk forward, step by mismatched step, into the cavernous belly of the whale.

[elsinore-and-inverness]

Content Warning: Neil Gaiman

Processing. Likely excessively centring myself in this post but I’m processing. Not the fact that someone who wrote books I like is a rapist, but the random amount of proximity I’ve had to this rapist.

Neil Gaiman visited my school when I was twelve. A notion that now fills me with horror. I’ve told the story many times. How he was bored of us. How he hated our questions. We asked really good questions like ‘Can I have your cat?’ and ‘Do you like pie?’ He all but sneered at us. We were twelve. We were insulted and slighted, some of us felt hurt and some of us thought it was funny. 

We were required to wear dark clothes that day, black if possible. Even at the time this struck me as very odd. ‘Neil Gaiman is strange,’ I recall our teacher saying, ‘everyone should wear dark clothing.’ There was an undertone to it, like he would be offended if we didn’t. I’m going to let you read between the lines on why this is kind of freaking me out. In retrospect I’m glad that it probably made us harder to see in the dark auditorium.  

I went to a Dresden Dolls gig once when I was a girlmoding goth teenager. I hadn’t listened to them before; I didn’t know much about Amanda Palmer. Everyone else in the room seemed like superfans. She talked a lot about crowdfunding. I thought, this sounds a wee bit like a cult but who am I to judge? Neil Gaiman was there. He was talking to people afterwards and as I was leaving Amanda physically steered me away from him. I didn’t think much of it, it was a small venue, it was crowded. I’ve replayed that moment in my mind many times in the past six months.

I was a big fan of the Good Omens novel, having read it thirteen times before production started on the TV series. 

The most direct route to class when I was studying in London the first time was through the Good Omens set. I would also sort of follow the production around and see what the shooting locations were like. I was telling my classmates how much I loved the book and how I wasn’t sure if the adaptation was going to be any good and one of my classmates, who was the daughter of a science fiction author, told me not to become a fan of Neil Gaiman’s because ‘he’s creepy, we avoid him, he has all these goth girls who follow him around.’ I didn’t really understand what she meant. I didn’t fully comprehend that by ‘creepy man’ she meant ‘man who is a creep’ and not ‘man who is interested in the macabre.’ I wonder now if that also effectively functioned as part of the trap, if part of the anglerfish construction involved thinking ‘well of course people avoid someone who is interested in strange things and presents himself as an outsider.’ If you were fortunate enough to catch a bit of a warning it might not land the same way if he presented himself differently. But lots of people around me were Neil Gaiman fans and I, being, unfortunately, a contrarian, because I had been told not to, read all of his books. 

Gaiman would often claim he answered only a small proportion of the most recent asks he received on tumblr. I somewhat doubt the veracity of this claim given that it cranked up the dial on the parasocial emotions when people would realize that he had answered every single one of their asks. I know I felt that way, because hey, attention is attention, even if it’s mixed with a bit of ‘get off my blog’ and, I now realize, behaving sycophantically because I was afraid of being bullied by him. 

I’m friends with a few young women who he talked to, expressing great interest in their lives, dangling potential TV roles and book deals bobbing in the air just like an anglerfish, and my throat closes up when I think what a close call, and for so many it wasn’t a close call. He hurt so many people utterly, unconscionably, horrifically, heinously, inexpiably. I hope he never experiences a moment of peace and that history and public opinion only ever associate his name with his crimes. Also, car hammer explosion, etc. 

I hope his survivors find so much peace and justice and comfort. 

https://takebackthenight.org

[luxury-nightmare]

I hear you have many TMA OCs...

Can we get a lore drop??👀

LETS GOOOOOOOOO

okay so I have four. Let’s start with Eve

Eve is gonna show up in WCS (she already has technically) so I don’t wanna say much but she’s a bit much (she eats people’s hearts the expand the ever growing mechanical mass that is her true form, this is just the projection, an anglerfish lure.)

This is Stella Iverson. She’s a Spiral avatar as you can tell. Basically Michael would visit her when she was young and it caused her to develop paranoia cause no one believed her. She was taken to a mental hospital but they didn’t believe her either (MAG 177 is her statement) she met her partners through council in but relapsed and eventually became a Spiral avatar. She still considers Michael a friend but I’m not sure if he thinks of her as one.

Aaron Wilder, avatar of The Buried. He had an encounter with The Vast which caused him to desperately try and hide from the sky. Obviously this is not an easy thing to do, so he’s been looking for the coffin for a while. He met Stella and Red in conciling and it helped him anchor himself, but after Stella disappeared into the distortion’s hallways he relapsed. Eventually he got murked by Daisy and came back as a Buried Avatar. Fun Fact! He’s based on Hozier

And finally, we have Morgan “Red” Scarlett. She was actually in conciling for war trauma (she was in the military) instead of supernatural trauma, but she is Stella and Aaron’s partner. She’s actually a double patron with The Desolation and The Lonely. Double patronage isn’t a thing in cannon I don’t think, but @mayrine and I were discussing rare fear combos and I thought that Lonely and Desolation work better together than most think. The Desolation is the fear of loss, so loneliness would come with it as well.

[jasmariswonderland]

 🐦‍⬛Kieran Aleister, Third Year NRC Student🐦‍⬛ 

Main Tag | Character Playlist | Voice Claim | Cards 

(A/N: Kieran technically does exist in my current oc-verse as a sophomore student, though most of his story arc takes place in the following year. For more info on the Year 2 AU, please click here. Also, I will not be revealing who Kieran is twisted from as it is lowkey very cringe. But feel free to take guesses in my ask box)

~~~~~~

 🐦‍⬛Introduction🐦‍⬛

Name: Kieran Aleister  

Other Names: Kiki (Scarlett), Anglerfish (Floyd), Moi étourneau (Rook)

Age: ???

Birthday/Starsign: October 19th (Libra) 

Height: 180CM

Eye Color: Deep Brown 

Hair Color: Black with a peacock green tint 

Homeland: Briar Valley 

Family: Unnamed mother, unnamed grandmother and four identical unnamed brothers)

Dorm: Diasomnia 

Class: 3-B (No. 9)

Club: Spelldrive Club

Best Subject: Flight and History of Magic

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Favorite Food: Candied Nuts 

Least Favorite Food: Black coffee and anything spicy 

Dislikes: Disorganization 

Hobbies: Traveling, dancing, personal grooming, fashion, flying, improving his magic and casual flirtations. 

Talents: Animal linguistics, particularly with birds

~~~~~~

🐦‍⬛Background🐦‍⬛

Kieran is a shapshifting fae originally from Briar Valley, one of five identical brothers. They have been raised primarily by their mother and grandmother, the latter of whom serves in Queen Malefcia’s court as a royal companion. Their father was a member of the night army but during their last military campaign, he vanished and is presumed to have been killed in action. 

Because of his service to the Draconia’s, his family is held in high regard despite not being of noble blood and the queen is quite fond of Kieran and his brothers. One of his favorite pastimes is attending soirées at the Draconia court and dancing with his brothers. Their striking beauty and delightful personalities make them very popular at court.

They are also incredibly magically gifted but of the five, Kieran is the only one who has expressed interest in the world outside Briar Valley and the only one to attend school with humans. In the interest of learning more about human dance styles, Kieran took part in a youth dance camp at the Land of Dawning a few years before beginning NRC. There he became friends with Taima and Scarlett, though he became particularly close to the latter. 

Kieran began NRC a year before the current freshmen and so is in the same class as Silver, Azul and the other current sophomore students. His time at NRC so far has been amusing if not a tad uneventful. Now entering his junior year, he’s looking forward to whatever fate has in store for him, and he’s especially looking forward to reconnecting with Scarlett who is coming in as a Scarabia freshman. 

~~~~~

🐦‍⬛Appearance and Personality🐦‍⬛

Kieran is an incredibly attractive young man (seriously that pricrew does NOT do him justice) with androgynous features that are neither masculine nor feminine. He has deep brown eyes and long dark hair that appears black at first glance before you notice the shimmering green tint, most noticeable in the sunlight. He prefers wearing his hair in a high ponytail and eye makeup that best highlights the beauty of his eyes.Though he has four identical brothers, Kieran is often described as being the most beautiful of the five with a charming air that makes him stand out even among them. His gaze can be described as intense but mesmerizing and just a little bit frightening. He is well aware of his good looks and the effect his beauty has on others, using it to his advantage at times.

Personally wise, Kieran is both playful but petulant. He finds humans amusing most of the time though sometimes he does find some of their traits annoying. He particularly dislikes messiness and when things are disorganized. Another thing he dislikes is being mistaken for a girl, something that’s happened more than a few times as his mannerisms could be considered very feminine. And he’s also quick to lose his temper when things are not to his liking.

Like most fae, Kieran is far older than he appears but like Vidaria and Heloise, is mentally still very much a teenager. Though sometimes the things he says give away a wisdom far beyond his presumed youth.

Besides dancing, one thing Kieran enjoys is casual romance and flirtation with any willing participant regardless of their gender or if they’re human or fae. Life in the royal Draconia court has left him accustomed to flattery and praise which he adores. And he finds his dalliances with humans especially fun. Within NRC, he’s on decent terms with most of the students save for those in Savannaclaw, though he’s closest to his dormmates, especially Lilia and Heloise.

~~~~~~

🐦‍⬛Unique Magic🐦‍⬛

Keiran’s UM is called This is No Mystery and once activated, he’s able to erase someone’s short term memory though prolonged eye-contact.

~~~~~~

🐦‍⬛Other Skills/Talents🐦‍⬛

Transformation ~ Kieran has the ability to transform into a crow though he very rarely does so. He prefers his human form and while he has perfected his ability to change into his bird form, he still struggles changing back and will still maintain some bird features as a human, particularly his feet. The only remedy to this are illegal transformation potions.

~~~~~

🐦‍⬛Trivia/Lore 🐦‍⬛

(A/N this segment will be periodically updated)

~~~

🐦‍⬛In-Canon Adventures🐦‍⬛

Prologue ~ Kieran was a little depressed knowing that Heloise would not be joining him in his sophomore year but found some comfort with Vidaria and Silver. He took a quick liking to Sebek and found great amusement when Yuulan and Grim crashed the orientation. Right before the ceremony began, he briefly reconnected with Taima but they would end up not seeing much of each other after that night.

Book 1 ~ Kieran was unaware of what was happening at Heartslabyul and as of Book 5, is still unaware of Riddle’s OB.

Book 2 ~ After noticing how many of the other dorms spelldrive players were getting injured, Kieran decided to skip club practices for a few weeks to not risk being targeted as well. He ends up playing for Diasomnia in the tournament which is a massive success for them. Unfortunately, the results end up putting a dent in his friendly acquaintance with Taima and coupled with Sebek’s brazen attitude towards her, they end up not speaking to each other again until the following school year.

Book 3 ~ Kieran did not get involved in Azul’s schemes and so far is unaware of his overblot. Being a pretty decent student already, he didn’t see the need to go to him for help passing his exams as he managed to do so on his own.

Book 4 ~ While Kieran was still on campus during the crisis at Scarabia, he and the rest of the Diasomnia crew stayed to themselves and he was not aware of what was going on until Iman confided in Vidaria who in turn confided in him. Kieran returned to Briar Valley with Malleus, Lilia, Silver and Sebek and spent his winter break going to several holiday parties at the Draconia court.

Book 5 ~ Kieran considered auditioning for NRC Tribe but ultimately decided against it once he found out that Rook would be on the team as well. He didn’t want to cause any awkwardness with him or the other team members and decided to attend the festival just as a regular student. The morning of the VDC, Kieran was thrilled when he was finally reunited with Heloise who had recovered and returned to NRC to complete her sophomore year. They sat together at the VDC with their other Diasomnia companions and enthusiastically cheered Vidaria on as she performed with the Black Swans.

~~~

🐦‍⬛Relationships🐦‍⬛

General ~ Kieran is at best fairly amiable to most of the NRC students he interacts with and at worst fairly neutral. The only exception to this is his dislike of Leona because he considers his attitude towards Malleus disrespectful. He also doesn’t get along much with Azul but gets along well with the Tweels.

Rook ~ So fun fact, in Keiran’s freshman year, he and Rook engaged in a very brief dalliance. One day, Rook came across Kieran practicing shape shifting between his crow form and his human form. He was spellbound and Kieran, amused by Rook’s flattery, indulged him. Their whirlwind romance lasted a few months but Kieran soon became annoyed with Rook’s frequent inquiries and comments about being a fae and life in the Draconia court that he found impertinent. The final straw was when Kieran caught Rook spying on Vidaria while she had her wings exposed. They broke up soon afterward and while there is currently no bad blood between them, Kieran would prefer to stay away from Rook if it can be helped.

Diasomnia ~ As mentioned, Kieran is closest to his fellow Diasomnia companions. Lilia in particular thought very highly of Kieran’s father and for his sake, goes out of his way to extend goodwill to him while they’re in school together. Multiple times throughout his life, Lilia has tried to convince Kieran to begin training to become one of Malleus’s retainers but everytime, Kieran turns him down.

🐦‍⬛Kieran’s Relationships With My Other Twst OCs*

Like with the canon cast, Kieran gets along fairly well with most of my ocs. The only one he outright dislikes is Andrew but that’s because they’ve faced each other on the spelldrive field many times with each time ending the same. With RSA being victorious with Andrew’s assistance.

Of my ocs, his closest friend is Heloise as they’ve grown up together in the Draconia court serving the Draconia’s in different ways. One thing Kieran enjoys is chatting with Heloise’s familiar Igraine and will occasionally change into his crow form to better interact with her. It’s been implied that Heloise has a crush on one of Kieran’s brothers and he loves to tease her about it. He’s also fond of Vidaria though they are slightly less close due to Vidaria’s general mistrust of most in the Draconia court save for Heloise and Silver.