#even as a creature of myth you are still smaller than them

[justbelievinginmagic]

the dragon-blood chronicles ⎯ part 1: the spark.

pairing: namjoon x reader series summary: There are tales about dragon-blood men ruling over the kingdom of Bangtan for centuries; old myths that Crown-Prince Seokjin and second-born Prince Namjoon heard while growing up. Stories about bullet-proof, fire-breathing serpetine creatures with the ability to shift into human form and dominate the land with an iron fist. It was a fable of power, but just that - a fable. Dragon-blood folk have been gone for centuries. But when Prince Namjoon get sent away from the Palace at a young age for unruly behavior, things being to change in the kingdom as a war beings to brew, causing eight magical fates to intertwine. glimpse: Namjoon was the second born. The useless prince. The back-up. Forgotten and locked in a tower of a far-off castle, he brewed in his uncontrollable frustration at his fate... until a spark ignites that changes the path of the kingdom. warnings/tags: This is a repost of an older oneshot inspired by the song, we are bulletproof pt. 2 i wrote! i've updated it a bit to loop into the larger story and just to follow the way i write now! ive added about 2.5k new content so if you liked the og give this one a look! PG-13, Romance, Fantasy/Royalty AU, bad family dynamics, possessive & protective Namjoon, dragons, unspoken love, illness. word count: 7.1 k -> next chapter series masterlist

Heavy was the crown on the head of a king.

Namjoon wouldn’t know about that though – even if he wanted to know what the hefty load of a kingdom on his shoulders felt like, he would never have it. He was, after all, the second born. A spare prince. A back-up king. Second to the throne, third in life of the royal family.

The king, naturally, was first. First to enter a room, first to eat their meals (after a servant tested it for poison, of course.) But after him, it was Seokjin.

From birth, Seokjin was first for everything. First to be taught, first to eat, first to be tended to, first to be trained at swordsmanship. Namjoon was quick to learn that as he hobbled around the halls of the palace as a youngster. He was ignored among the royal family – seemingly weaker, smaller than his older brother when born. He made the queen quite sick during her pregnancy. When born, Namjoon was prone to illness as a child. An annoyance, a drain on the kingdom’s resources.

He still tried to follow after his older brother.  Seokjin, eldest by three years, tried when he could to be a good bother. He loved the idea of a younger brother, wanting to be the best of friends. He wanted to play Knights and Fiends with him; he wanted to teach him how to read and write; he wanted them to go on fishing trips like he read about in his fairytale books. The older brother played with his little brother only to have the sounds of his nanny calling to him distract him.

“Come along, Prince Seokjin. You have your classes. Leave him alone.”

He hated it, but complied with a frown towards Namjoon and a sad wave.

Namjoon, at the mere age of seven, couldn’t help but begin to try to gain attention. He wanted attention. He wanted to have all the attention that his brother had. He began to do what a child does when upset. Tantruming. Pleading for attention through misaction or disobedience. He’d throw his food to the ground at dinners, arms crossing over his little chest. He’d interrupt classes with cries of ‘this isn’t fair’. He’d fight as his nanny dragged him away from Seokjin, screaming. It grew to such a state – even with Seokjin’s quiet scold of pleadings - “Namjoonie, you’re going to get into trouble; please stop” – that the royal family acted.

That was when he learned he wasn’t loved.

Not like Seokjin. Never like Seokjin.

Namjoon was cast aside. Thrown into a tower at another castle. He was stole in the night – taken in a carriage and awoke in this new place. Alone.

His family didn’t love him. No, they didn’t. The little boy cried and cried.  

Namjoon was utterly alone now; all in the name that he couldn’t “distract the crown prince from his duties.” He was cared for enough to know that he was still a prince. Given the finest of things – silver, gold, and silken treasures to keep him content. A collection of maids and servants were there to feed and care for him and a table of knights were there to protect him. He was carefully watched over from a distance. Sadness ate a child and few cared. Few knew what to do when the little boy slammed his door and hid in the tower. The prince fell into a lonely state.

The knights protecting him looked at him as a stranger – an isolated boy, a spare – even if he strived to learn to study weaponry. He tried to join them on their practice range once; he was turned away.

“Your Highness!” there was a cry from a nanny. “You have no need to learn such a skill.”

No, he didn’t he sulked. He didn’t need to learn anything apparently. After all, the second prince had no need to learn of knightly duties, nor fighting, nor war, nor kingly duties. His brother had learned though; at the old castle, Seokjin beamed and preened about his lessons with swordmastery. But Namjoon didn’t need to know it. Because, in the end, Namjoon wasn’t the prince headed to the crown.

The Second.

He was the second.

What did that even mean? If he wasn’t a King, if he wasn’t a Knight, if he wasn’t seen as a worthy Prince either… what was he?

Namjoon learned – like most things in his life – he would have to adapt. He would watch things from afar, learning from high up in his windowed tower. Mimicking the motions the knights made, the strikes of the blade against his bedpost (instead of a training dummy) left deep grooves into the fine wood.

The servants gossiped about his anger issues and how he destroyed things. A monster of a prince.

Namjoon’s focus grew on things he could do without the roadblocks put up by the servants and the royal family. He couldn’t study metalsmith with the knights. But he could study wordsmiths.

Besides his tall tower room, he was granted access to the library. He threw himself into his studies – he learned charts for sailing, war strategy, language, public speaking, trade, and folklore. He’d learn to be king – even if he wouldn’t be one.

When a nanny asked what he was reading, he’d learn to lie a white lie. Just a fantasy book.

After all, wasn’t all of this a fantasy? What was a Prince to do when he wasn’t a Prince?

At first, he envied his brother. He used to think he hated him. Hated him for everything Namjoon couldn’t be. Namjoon fueled himself on that hate in the early years of his isolation – studying with spite on his tongue. Writing curses towards his brother in the sidelines of books. He knew his brother had all the highest advisors and scholars telling him this… and he knew Seokjin didn’t listen. Seokjin wasn’t a good student, in a traditional sense. He liked stories, and most of the history and war tactics the youngest Prince read about was not a good story.

Until he received a letter from his brother.

I don’t know where to turn. I’ve missed you, brother. I feel so lost. I don’t think I’m meant for this. I don’t think I’m meant to be King.

The words were scratched out over and over, as if even writing what was beneath was forbidden.

Father expects so much – expects me to talk with a booming voice. He wants me to be like our ancestors.

Namjoon knew what Seokjin was referring to – even if it had been years since he’d been by his older brother’s side or heard the tales of their family line. Everyone knew the stories of the dragon bloods. How they were creatures that could shapeshift into reptilian beasts that flew. Powerful myths. How they took the throne with ease and led with wisdom beyond this realm. How their royal bloodline supposedly came from them.

It was a story, a folklore. But it was still used to rally the people. The kingdom was strong, strong like a dragon.

Seokjin wrote to Namjoon for advice. And though he thought he despised the crown prince, he replied. At first because Namjoon’s nanny urged him to – “it’d be rude to not reply to the future King, my prince” – but soon he wrote to ease his brother’s worries. He was an aid in running the kingdom even at his young age.

He liked that.

He’d write advice for his brother, sending flocks of pigeons with letters. Books were his escape. And soon, so were you.

He was sixteen when he found you when he was looking for a novel in the library. It was early in the morning; the dew had barely settled on the grasslands. Namjoon stumbled down the stone steps into the grand library, sleepy eyed and still in his fine-tailored pajamas. It took him far too long to notice you. It was only when you let out the smallest giggle. His head snapped to the sound, and he saw you for the first time. A servant’s daughter dressed in worn dark browns and creams; an apron sat dirtied around your waist; it was clear you weren’t where you were supposed to be. Engrossed in a book, your eyes taking in gulps of words even if you stumbled over the larger ones – a finger resting over the word that seemed too complicated to pronounce let alone understand.

And instead of anger, instead of a tantrum, perhaps due to his isolation, he felt�� kinship.

You liked to read like he did. You were like him. Alone in the place. He hadn’t seen someone his age before this, he was so used to the older figures rushing around. But you… you were like him. Even if you were dressed poorly.

“Excuse me?” His voice was now a rumbling deep thing with the brink of teenagerhood, deeper even more when dusted with the throes of sleep.

It startled you, slamming the book shut with a puff of dust from the old thing. Your gaze settled on the fine clothes – finer than you had ever seen – and a fear clung to your bones.

The worst-case scenarios tumbled through your head. You would be sent away. You’d be beheaded. Your family would suffer. Your eyes would be plucked out. He was an angry boy – you had heard the rumors and here you were trespassing. In the royal library. His royal library.

“My prince,” you stumbled to your feet, bowing your head. “I’m sorry – please forgive me.”

No, no, no he didn’t want this. He didn’t want fear or babbling or… to lose a possible friend. He had never seen someone in the library. It was his private library, too grand for a single soul to occupy. It wouldn’t hurt… to share. It felt like nails down a chalkboard, like someone was taking his to from him. Why was that so hard to concede to that? Sharing.

Still, he bit down on his tongue.

“No, please. It’s okay,” he tried to soothe.

His hands outstretched to touch your shoulder as if to urge you out of your bow. You shuddered under his touch as if he’d strike you. “It’s okay. Really.”

His voice, deep and warm, lacked the fire of anger. It was more like a hearth, bumbling with embers.

“What… what are you reading?”

“What… what am I reading?” you repeated, incredulous. Baffled.

He offered a small smile, cheeks red as he nodded slowly. He was so unused to this. So used to the nannies who were frightened of him or the tired old maids who didn’t want to put in the effort to care for him truly.

He tried to make himself look smaller, that’d help right? You were so much smaller than him already he noticed. He nodded again.

“It’s… it’s a fairytale, you probably wouldn’t like it,” she insisted.

“I like reading,” he said simply. “Tell me about it? Please.”

You licked your lips, eying him up and down before nodding softly. It wasn’t a beheading. It wasn’t a violent tantrum. In fact, he looked kind of sweet, bashful, as his sleepy face broke into a grin and he settled down next to the spot you were previously sitting.

Day by day, you’d meet in the early morning light of the majestic library. In that time, he’d hear what you were reading; even insisting on you reading the words aloud. He’d correct you where he could. Never did his corrections make you feel ashamed or stupid. He was surprisingly gentle with his words you noticed.

Your mornings – when you were meant to be preparing his breakfast - were spent reading beside the young prince. Eventually, when you got scolded so much, it made you cry and you were trembling in your shoes to miss a shift – he changed your schedule. While in the early morn you’d share your books, by mid-morning, he shared with you the books he loved – philosophy, folklore, science - while you rushed to make his breakfast in the grand kitchen. He’d lean against the cutting counter and stare as you whisked eggs and kneaded dough.  

It was sometimes difficult to be around him. The Prince was a handsome man. His hair was long for his age, curling up at the nape of his neck. You wondered if he cut it himself. Most servants were warned of his unruly temper and childish tantrums; they avoided him the best they could and it was easy with how much he stayed in his tower. He was violent… That was why he was sent away – at least, the rumors spoke of that.

The prince you grew to know wasn’t an angry person. No, he smiled with a softness, his cheeks squishing to reveal dimples. He listened as you spoke about things in your life– from the novels you had read and loved to the flowers you liked in the gardens to the work you loathed to do. (He had laughed when you mentioned you disliked when he requested bacon for the splatters of oil always burned your arms; he promised he’d request bacon less for your sake. He hadn’t requested it since.)

Namjoon enjoyed your company. You were his friend. His only friend.

He hadn’t had a friend before.

He cared for you, watched, and aided you when he could. He didn’t want you to suffer or feel alone. You were the only other teenager so far outside the kingdom’s town. It must’ve been lonely. He couldn’t imagine you hurting or else his heart felt like it’d burn up.

Even as he felt stirrings of things within him as the years went by, he focused on what you needed. A love that was selfless wasn’t second-nature to him. It was an effort. He didn’t want to be greedy and lose you. He grew fond of you beside him. His fingers intertwined with yours as you walked through the gardens, shyly at first, before it happened every time afterwards. Your hand in his was cool to the touch; he hoped you weren’t cold. He gifted you a pretty cloak a few weeks later, one that was the same shade as your favorite flower.

You leaned towards him when you read together. Sometimes your cheek was so close he could feel their warm. His lips would tingle and he couldn’t read the manuscript in his hands. All he could focus on was how pretty your skin was… how your cheeks were a reddish pink and your lips… oh your lips were so tantalizingly close for him to press a kiss to them. He swallowed down this love, keeping you close to him but guarded from himself.

Perhaps it was anxiety – the consequence of being friendless for so long. He was bashful, fearful. Him – fearful it made him want to shake his head at his foolishness. He ached to wrap you into his embrace, to shower you in kisses, to allow you to lay in his bed. But he settled for now, the softness of your friendship was a comfort. Your hand against his was still enough to get his heart racing. His love festered in his chest with the inability to grow further – if only he could speak of his fondness.

He claimed he’d try again tomorrow – and the next day – and the next.

However, as his love grew into a mess of tangled vines, an illness began to fester and choke him as well.

It had occurred when he turned twenty. At the stroke of midnight, you had knocked onto his bedroom door.

“Joonie!” Your voice chimed as he opened the door. Dressed in his pajamas, it should be improper but you had seen him in them many times before – you met him in them. His face lit up at the sight of the cake – his birthday cake. It was decorated with edible flowers from the garden and a gentle blue frosting.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Y/N,” he exclaimed. “This is beautiful – all for me?”

You giggled and he smiled wide enough his dimples peeked at you.

“Yes, your Highness,” you chuckled. “Don’t eat it all or you’ll get a stomach ache.”

“I won’t… aren’t you tired?” he asked watching you blink slow and steady like a cat.

“A bit; I wish I could stay awake longer but I wanted to be the first person to see you and wish you a happy birthday.” You claimed.

He wanted to press kisses all over your face; he wish you knew that you were sweeter than this cake. That you’d be the only one to wish him a true happy birthday. Instead, he simply place the cake aside on a desk and hugged you close.

“Thank you. I love it.” You.

You hummed happily. “I’m happy. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Not too early,” he promised. “I’ll take breakfast later, okay? Prince’s orders. Sleep in a bit.”

It was sweet. Even on his birthday he was treating you. You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand fondly.

“As you command it, oh mighty prince. But other than that, we will spend the whole day together.”

That sounded like a dream. With the door shutting behind you, he felt a giddy rush course through him. His skin warmed and his stomach filled with butterflies. Looking over at the cake, he took his finger and swiped at the frosting, tasting it. But the mere taste of the sugar felt like curdled milk in his stomach. Namjoon frowned. That didn’t make sense. Your treats were always so good. He loved this cake recipe in particular – you made it every birthday since you became friends.

Perhaps it was his excitement. His face already felt clammy. His hand shaky. Sleep claimed him quick, his cake left untouched.

He awoke in the morning to a fever, his skin burning hot.

“Stay away, Y/N,” he had called out when you insisted on helping him. A cool rag to his forehead, sweat trickled down his temple.

“You’re burning up, Joonie” you had murmured, swiping his hair aside. Once, you’d shake in your boots imagining touching the prince like this, but after your friendship grew through the years. You had stopped referring to him as your prince and simply as Namjoon, and later even Joonie – something he had smiled warmly at.

“Don’t want you to get sick,” he continued as you lifted a goblet of water to his lips.

“Shh.” You hushed as you let him sip the fresh water. It didn’t ease the fire in his veins. “You’re the one sick on your birthday.”

Namjoon’s fever didn’t break for days. It felt like his muscles were combusting, aching, and burning. No doctor had the answer. The royal family even came to visit – fearing the worse for the bedridden prince.

“Namjoonie, you better get well.” It was a light threat from Seokjin as he sat on the bedside of his younger brother. It wasn’t much of a threat when Seokjin sniffled and raised a handkerchief to his eyes.  “What would I do without your aid if you left? I’d be waiting for your letters daily.”

You worked on with a watchful eye. Wringing cool rose-water from a rag to place on Namjoon’s forehead as the crown prince held onto his brother’s hand. You couldn’t decide if the first-born prince was being genuine. You noticed other things though. The way the plump lips of Seokjin were bitten raw. The trembling broad shoulders. There was a quiet to Seokjin, a timidness even if he was built and grown as a Prince; he wasn’t built to be a King. Even a servant girl could see that.

It was as interesting as it was fearful.

There was a night when he refused to let you into his bed chamber. The large clanking of a goblet hitting the tiled floors echoed, and you had rushed to the door with his name on your tongue.

“Don’t enter,” his voice was pained.

“Namjoon, what’s wrong?” you asked.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” he sounded pained, his voice coming through gritted teeth.

Clanking and shattering objects came from within the room. You did not cease your calling. Servants whispered and gossiped about the prince having a temper tantrum in his weakened state. Some things never change.

The next morning, Namjoon’s fever broke finally. And you nearly cried of relief.

“You scared me so much,” you scolded the prince as you clung to his hand. His arms wrapped around you tight, pulling you closer and closer until you were in the bed with him. Surprised by not frightened, you remained in his arms. They trembled with a weakness, from the sickness you assumed, but they didn’t let you shift in his embrace. He held you close and breathed you in. You smelled of home. Of everything he cared for. The smell of food cooking on a hearth, of indigo flowers planted in the garden, of the vanilla hidden in old books. He trembled under your hug, but he pressed his lips to your hair, something you don’t miss. Fondness bloom in your chest like a flower.

“What happened yesterday?” you murmured, curiously.

You knew it wasn’t a temper tantrum. He didn’t do that. It wasn’t Namjoon.

He breathed out shakily. He felt… different. His skin felt tight to his bones; his muscles remained tense like a suit of armor forged into his own flesh – but he didn’t feel unwell. The fire that had burned through him had settled into a steady flow of embers through his veins. A comforting warmth, a harness-able power.

“I-I don’t know,” he lied as he held you closer.

After the illness, Namjoon held himself differently. He was taller, broader. He almost reminded you of Seokjin’s naturally wide shoulders – except Namjoon’s frame was different. More muscular, beefier.

He could lift you now, carrying you to your quarters ( which had moved to the castle, per his request ) when you fell asleep reading beside the prince. He was eating more – but maybe you simply forgot his appetite after suffering under the illness for so long. He’s moved into training again – now outside the tower he called his living quarters – something you knew he had liked to do after years of friendship.

He was different but the same. He almost seemed more at peace as he greeted you in the kitchens with a friendly kiss to your cheek.

He was bolder. Happier.

Different but good.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he wrapped his arms around you.

It was a welcome change; Namjoon had begun to hug you closer, wrap his arms around you more and more now. Your hand moved to rest against his intertwined arms.

“Good morning, Joon.” His chin rested on your shoulder, watching as you made his plate (and yours at his request – he loved eating breakfast with you.)

“You’re in a good mood,” you commented.

“I received a letter from my brother.” he didn’t speak of Seokjin with ill-will; he had spoken of the king with a tone of discontent – detested affection - before.

“He wants me to be his Advisor.” He revealed. He sounded excited, happy. “Officially.” He turned to rest his cheek fully on your shoulder, rubbing his cheek against your servant garb. “Father is preparing to shift things around, giving Seokjin more power in decision-making.”

Which Namjoon knew Seokjin hated.

“You have worked hard. You’ll finally be able to show off that big brain of yours in front of the court,” you added as you continued to slice the apple for your individual porridges.

“Finally,” he sighed against you. Things were looking up.

He dragged his cheek against your shoulder once more before hugging you close. As he pulled away, his fingers swiped an apple slice from the tray.

“Your Highness,” you scolded, making him chuckle out as he pressed another fond kiss to your cheek.

It left tingling warmth in its wake.

You couldn’t seem to rest despite yawns tumbling from your lips. Restlessness clung to your bones, making you stand from your bed. Your gaze peered out the high window to look into the night sky.  The tower room that Namjoon insisted on you having as you tended to him while he was ill was grand. It was larger than your homestead, draped in finery that you had been fearful to use. There was even a balcony to look out into the night sky – which you used now. Namjoon hadn’t asked for anything in return, simply saying he adored your company. He wanted you here. He had been kind to you; sweeter than ever.

The very thought of the prince made your heart race. Letting out a girlish giggle, your eyes continued to stargaze. Arms draping over the baluster, you pressed your cheek to the cool stonework. There were many stars you could name; Namjoon particularly enjoyed astronomy. You were naming each one you could.

There was the Chamaeleon, Corona Borealis, Lepus, Lupus, and the Dragon.  Your eyes drooped sleepily when something caught your gaze. There was flicker against the midnight skies like a shadow dancing across the stars. The shape made you shudder, your eyes widening like saucers.

It looked like a dragon flying high in the sky.

You blink, blink, blinked.

It was gone. No, you know what you saw. You saw the impossible.

“What are you reading, Y/N?” Namjoon asked after catching you in the halls of the palace, curled in an alcove he knew you favored.

“Folklore,” you commented.

He noted your sleepy eyes; lavender painted your under-eye area. His brows pursed – even if you continued reading with interest.

“What’s caught your attention, sweet one?” he chuckled softly before his fingers tucked stray hairs away from your face. Fingers grazed your skin fondly. You looked up at the gentility. He lips pursed into a frown. “You look like you’ve been up all night; were you reading by candlelight again?”

Your face didn’t lighten up like he loved. It made his stomach churn a bit. His brows pursed. He was far too easy to read like your favorite book.

You tried to comfort him, shaking your head. Your cheek pressed into his large, hot hand reassuringly.

“No, no; I just – Namjoon –, “ you started a sentence, pausing in your words.

Licking your lips, your tired mind caught up to your train of thought and you had to pause.

Everyone knew the tale of the dragon bloods. Creatures who could transform at will – fire breathed into their souls, powerful and greedy but wise. They took over the throne from an evil ruler; then they ruled with wisdom for decades. It was a tall-tale you were told since childhood. But… it was just a story. How could you have seen one? And why did it strike such fear in your heart for Namjoon and the royal family? Was it an omen? Was he in danger?

Your breathing shuddered.

You couldn’t tell him. He’d find you crazy.

Your gaze shifted from his kind umber eyes to the book beneath her fingertips.

“I’ve just been engrossed in this story,” you said quietly.

It wasn’t quite a lie.

He frowned, but brushed a thumb over your cheek soft. He didn’t like you keep things from him. But he’d let you for now.

“Seokjin-hyung truly doesn’t know how to rule; what did he do during all those lessons? He knows nothing!” Namjoon lamented, flopping down beside you in the grassy riverside. It was a heavy thud of his body against the vegetation.  

“Be careful,” you commented at his violent action yet he didn’t even grunt from the action.

“I would’ve loved lessons on trade routes,” he sighed out, frustratedly. His hands trailed over the wild indigo tousling in the wind.  He watched the petals pass through his fingers before huffing again.

“I know, Joonie, but you learned regardless. That’s resilience.”

He hummed out an agreement. His gaze shifted from the weeds beside his head to focus on you. You were reading again. A sight he loved. He loved when you were focused, immersed in something more. It was like he could see your brain working, see the imagination flickering behind your beautiful eyes.

The leather-covered book bore the same “History of Fae & Other Creatures” title. You’ve been reading it for more than a week now. It made his curiosity spike.

“What are you so intrigued about, sweetheart?” He leaned up on his forearms, gazing up at you with flower petals and leaves clinging to his long hair.

You let out a soft chuckle at the sight, reaching out to pluck the remnants away. Why were you nervous to tell him? Would he laugh at you? He hadn’t before. You knew your fears were foolish – a Dragon wasn’t coming to destroy his family line – and him. That was… not set in reality. Its been something you’ve ruminated on night after night as you laid in your cushy bed. You could’ve seen something totally real that night – a strange bird or a kite or a very solid looking cloud that moved really fast. Right?

Fiddling with the corner of the worn page, you hemmed and hawed. Namjoon waited patiently. Smiling up at you. He’s never been cruel or mean. Surely, he’d just tell you saw nothing. That it was the sleepiness. Reassure you. He fiddled with the fabric of your dress – a new one he had made for you of indigo blue.

“I just – I’ve been thinking of dragons recently,” you finally said, turning the page.

Namjoon paused, his smile freezing. His dimples weren’t showing as the smile faded into a confused frown.

“Dragons?” he asked again. Namjoon’s blood felt hot.

“I—you’ll think I’m silly,” you said, shaking your head – your gaze hadn’t left the page. “I thought I saw one the other night. I was tired though. Maybe I just was – I don’t know, day-dreaming.”

“Maybe,” Namjoon supplied.

He felt hot.

He’d tell them soon. He promised.

Namjoon’s face was grim as he sat in the rocky carriage. Stuck in the royal attire he often disregard around the palace, his limbs felt tight and itchy; his fine silver crown atop perfectly styled locks. His hair had been cut, by your hand at the insistence of the maids and caretakers. He was a Prince not some long-haired pirate! He felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. He was stuck in a carriage far away from you and only taking him further and further away by the second. It left him worrying. A pit growing in his stomach as the carriage shuttered against the rocky path.

Even if he hadn’t spoken his love to you, you hadn’t rejected his affections. His soft kisses to your cheek, his embraces where his hands remained respectfully at your waist, or his affectionate nicknames. It was more than friendship, surely you knew that. You weren’t dumb. You were the smartest woman he’d met. It was one of the many things he loved about you.

He felt anxiety creep up at the thought of the castle unprotected by him. You were unprotected. It made the fire splutter and splatter like lava within his soul.

But he had a duty – not to his father, but Seokjin.

It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.

The castle was a day’s journey, one that he handled as gracefully as one could. Soon enough, he was back in his childhood home – yet it felt unlike the true home he left behind. Bereft figures, dull colors of dark blacks decorated the halls. Sobs filled the streets.

After all, the King was dead.

Seokjin was going to be crowned – and soon.

It was the night after the funeral. Seokjin had barged his way into Namjoon’s quarters – a forgotten childhood bedroom. Everything had been left where Namjoon had place it. His dragon stuffed animal sat on the window’s ledge, looking out.

At least it has been, before Seokjin had picked it up and fiddled with it. Squeezing it, tossing it between his large palms, hugging it.

“I can’t do this, Joonie,” Seokjin hyperventilated.

“What are you talking about, hyung?” Namjoon tried to understand.

“The crown,” he blurted out. “The ceremonies. The ruling. The laws. The court. I’m not—I can’t. I’m not – built for this.”

Seokjin was trembling; his fingers digging into the stuffed animal harshly. His lips were bitten red, bleeding.

“You’ve grown up learning for this,” Namjoon countered, disbelievingly. “Its your-“

“I don’t care!” Seokjin cried out. “I—I never wanted the crown. I never—I can’t handle the pressures; Father, before he passed, he knew – he knew. He said if the crown failed in my hands that I’d go to hell. That I’d be cursed to be outcasted. History rewritten. He called me weak – he called me-“ Seokjin was sobbing. Namjoon had never seen his brother cry before.

“I don’t know what to do. You do.”

You know how to rule.

“Help me, Joonie. Please. Please I revoke my crown. I revoke it. I revoke it to you.”

There was a jostling outside your balcony, waking you with a start.  A grand wind pounded on the glass panels ferociously, rattling and creaking them violently. Your eyes flashed open and you looked about bewildered.

There had been no wind when you fell asleep. Especially not so violent.

“What is going on?” Your fear made you jump, holding the covers to your form as if that could protect you.

You saw no clouds nor tells of rain or wind last night. But now, it was almost like your window frame was trembling from the force outside.

Standing to look, what you saw nearly made you faint. There, outside your window – perched awkwardly on your stone balcony’s balusters – was a dragon. Larger than you by an incredible amount. Its form wasn’t even at its grandest; you could see its body was curling inwards; its large clawed paws were shifting underneath it as it balanced, almost similar to a cat. Its wings were outstretched wide, the width of them taking up the length of many men. It didn’t look threatening; there was no fire or brimstone. Instead, it almost looked clumsy. It was far too large for the foundation beneath itself. The stonework gave a horrible groan, loud and bellowing from the creature’s weight.  

A scream was on your lips, aching to tear out of your throat – but before you could, you saw before your very eyes the dragon begin to tremble and shrink until… there was no dragon there anymore. No, it was just Namjoon.

Namjoon was on your balcony.

Rippling muscles shuddering as he stumbled off of the stone baluster and towards you a wild look in his eyes.

“Y/N,” you could hear him even with your balcony window shut – however, not for long, as you promptly fainted.

He was a dragon.

“Darling,” you could hear a soft croon. “Oh, my sweet girl.”

Your head ached, but you could still recognize that voice anywhere. It was the same voice that had read you countless novels in the field of flowers by the gardens.

“Joon?” you queried in your drowsiness.

Blinking your eyes, you look up to see him, clad in his royal attire – the very attire he had left in – sitting beside you in your quarters.

“I’m so sorry,” he pleaded, rushing to press kisses to your knuckles. His crowned head bowing towards you in regret.

He hadn’t thought about how it could startle you – all he could think was he had to return home. Had to discuss things with you – his only friend, his love, his confidant.

“I—I, did—I had the strangest dream,” you murmur out. “You were a—” Your gaze traveled to the window, now open to where you had seen the creature perched in your dreams. Only to see the shattered stonework. The broken balusters laid messily in front of the gargoyles.

“A dragon,” Namjoon supplied, quietly. Almost bashfully like that morning you met.

Your eyes drifted back to him. His umber eyes were fiery, even if they were glancing away almost boyishly shy.

“What?” you asked quiet. “Namjoon, what?”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing a bit. His head tilted downwards. All the fire of a dragon he had – but its courage he still lacked, he scolded himself.

He lacked when it came to you; selfishly afraid and yearning to protect and shield you away from him.

“I’m a dragon blood. I-I learned about it a few months ago,” he said. “After my illness, I had these abilities. These powers…”

You stared at him; partial awe, partial fear, partial confusion, and partial betrayal painted your features.

Before you slapped at his shoulder, angrily.

“You—” You nearly curse at him, anger peaking.

His hands went to capture yours before you could slap at him again. Firm but not painful, his grasp was one of desperation as his brows crinkled in despair.

“I know; I know. I didn’t tell you. How would you have reacted?” he rambled on. “You would’ve thought me mad; you would’ve left me alone. You would’ve never spoken to me.”

His fear was laid out in a rush– you leaving him.

“I couldn’t bear that.” he whispered ardently.

“So, you lied!” you bitterly exclaimed. Your hands – now curled into childish fists – couldn’t shift in his grasp. He was strong.

“You never asked!” Namjoon countered smiling awkwardly. Your glare shut him up, his mouth opening and closing as his eyes shut. “That doesn’t matter I know. You can be angry later, please. I have news from the kingdom. I need you!”

A Dragon never needed anyone. But he needed her. He always would.

“Seokjin is going to revoke the crown – and I’ll be crowned king.” He said out in a flurry.

Once again, as if a bomb was dropped on you, your mouth dropped open.

“He’s revoking the crown?”

Namjoon nodded, almost excitedly. You could see flames dance in his eyes – had that always happened?

“This is horrible!” you murmured out, fear written in your face.

Nightmares of disasters flickered through your mind. Namjoon and Seokjin being killed in an uprising. Namjoon being prevented taking the throne. Seokjin lying to cause Namjoon’s death. So many worst-case scenarios flickered through your mind. Your mind was an expert at plotting the worse. Even if the dragon you saw was him – it could be a warning. He could be a warning of worse things to come.

“Darling?” Namjoon asked, his voice gentle as he saw your outburst – your fear and disapproval were the opposite of what he predicted.

“Seokjin doesn’t want the crown,” Namjoon reassured, hands leaving your wrists to cup your face. Tilting it his way to watch your mind rush faster and faster. He licked his lips as he saw your mouth shuddered.

“If you do this, Namjoon, the kingdom will be in uproar; they will fight against a shift in power – even if it’s as peaceful as your brother granting you the throne.” You countered. “It’s signing a war declaration.”

He let out a huff of a growl, smoke tumbling from his nose. His impatience bubbled up. He didn’t like being told that he couldn’t do something; he never had.

The smoke shocked you, but somehow not enough to scare you. It was just… new.

“I don’t want a war,” you said looking at him with a look he hadn’t seen before. Desperation and yearning. Longing. It was complex and somber and… soulful. He felt like he saw your soul for a moment. And it was scared for him. You didn’t want him harmed or put into harm’s way in any way. “And I don’t want you fighting in it.”

Want. Want. Want.

Namjoon wanted too. He wanted so much over the years. He had wanted his family’s love. He didn’t receive it. He wanted to learn. He was given road block after road block. He wanted you, all of you. And he forbade himself.

He wanted the throne. He wanted what he deserved. He wanted respect. Your breath left in a soft huff of a sigh. You pushed yourself up to sit higher on your bed, closer in his embrace, his hands sliding to your jaw to accommodate.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Joonie.”

His fiery gaze eased a bit at your words. You were precious. Kind-hearted, gentle. His only true friend. His. And as a dragon blood, he was greedy. You were a treasure he didn’t know he hoarded. Until now.

“I don’t fear anything anymore. At least nothing like that.” he commented softly. “Not after the change.” He shifted from the floor to your bed, his tall form towered over you, but you didn’t feel discomfort as he embraced you. His thumb caressed over the soft supple skin of your cheeks, lovingly. “Why should a monster fear anything he can devour?”

You think if someone else had said those words a shiver would go down your spine. But it was Kim Namjoon. The very Namjoon who you’ve known for so many years. Namjoon – the prince who didn’t tattle on you – a servant girl – when you were avoiding work. Namjoon – who learned botany because you said you loved the wild indigos you found on the path between the castle and your homestead. Namjoon – who would sit beside you and point at the words you couldn’t decipher from old folklore scripts and ramble on and on about the history of them. Namjoon – the man who would grab your hand and sneak down to the river’s shores to skip stones with you. Namjoon - who had pressed soft kisses to your forehead when you fell asleep beside him in the grand library. Namjoon – who gently took your hand in between his as he confessed how much you meant to him beside the hearth of the fireplace.

Namjoon – the son of the Dragon, the inheritor of the flame – the rightful heir of the kingdom as a dragon blood.

It felt like two separate people – but even now, when his hand slid to your jaw – you could see both sides of him. The powerful being and the gentle giant. He would fight to protect you. And you knew deep down you would fight to protect him.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured lowly. “Of me, of a war.” He clarified. “What I am now – what awoke within me - is bulletproof, darling; I will not fail us. I will protect you and my kingdom.” And with that, he leant down, cupping your cheeks, and kissed your lips for the first time.  

You swore you could taste fire-smoke and ash on his lips.

[flusteredfools]

Finally got the rough sketches done so now it's time for voting!

Snips from each AU below! Both will eventually be written, this is just for me to know which to focus on first!

Fazrule Fitness Plex:

(Legend of Zelda/Fnaf Crossover world) As a way to promote more interactions among the various Hyrule races, FazCo has opened up a fitness center so all races can bond over sharing their more natural exercise methods and explore new ones. Learn swim methods from Zoras, rock climbing and cave exploration from Gorons, balance and air gliding tricks from the Ritos, learn how to make healthy meals in the Gerudo's bar and relax in the spa or let retired Hylian guards teach you the basics of self defense!

The Fitness Plex seems to have trouble keeping on someone for their mixed species daycare next to the swimming lakes and falls. Something about complaints that watching over the mixed race's young alongside the swim instructors judgmental eyes is just too much to handle...

The Lighthouse Keeper's Keepers:

(sort of Detroit Become Human/Fnaf crossover world)

Sun and Moon have proven their sentience, have gotten married and retired from working at the daycare; letting newer androids take over their old position. They've responded to a job listing in a rather remote village where an old fisherman who cares for the village's almost neglected lighthouse is getting too old to look after himself much less the lighthouse. So they've agreed to the position, both of caring for the fisherman until he passes as well as the lighthouse once he does. The years they spend being caregivers to the fisherman and listening to him tell tales of the Mer he befriended in his youth make Sun and Moon think the poor man must have been losing his mind with age. They never thought that on the day they would be spreading his ashes they would happen upon the myth he befriended.

Secret Third Choice:

Shhh... Is a secret. Very hush hush. But if you can't decide or don't care which... maybe this option is for you.

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hi! Recently I became curious about how ancient people hunted in the world of TwistedWonderland.🧔🏹🦣

If they didn't have magic in Monster Au, they used their wits and ingenuity. Animal hunting and fishing🦣 🏹 🐟. Pits, a stone maze so for catching fish and cattle.

You can see the reaction to the methods and techniques of trapping characters.

Don't mind me trying to work my way into a good groove and answering asks in my inbox 😅

It’s simply amazing what human ingenuity can do to get a task done, especially when it comes to surviving out in nature! Throw these craft humans into a world of monsters and magic, and you pretty much have what most epics and legends in our world describe mythical creatures and feats of strength. 😆

Once Yuu arrives in Twisted Monsterland, they may start seeing old paintings depicting clashes between humans and monsters. Ranging from spears and swords mistakenly melding into flesh like malformed limbs and claws to wearing leather and gleaming silver armor mistaken as insectoid carapaces, it’s no wonder humans were used in stories to scare little children into being good. These ancient humans looked positively monstrous—perhaps even more so than any monster in existence. Perhaps that is why so many were both terrified and confused as to why this scrunkly of a creature calling itself a human didn’t even match the few surviving paintings from a bygone era.

Pair that with the stories told on how ancient humans would hunt for food or built traps to capture monsters and comparing that to how Yuu looks? It’s easy for the monsters to brush off these abilities of magicless humans as being anything more than just mere fantasy or exaggeration. There’s simply no way a human can build traps and webs like spider monsters, create fire that lasts for days without smoke, or chase their prey for days on end without breaking a sweat!

Turns out, those myths are more true than the monsters realize. Especially if their resident human just so happens to have survivalist training under their belt…

///Camp Vargas///

“Uh…why are you digging a hole in the ground?”

“Making a fire pit.”

Ace glanced at Yuu as they continued to shovel more dirt out of a relatively large hole. “So…if you’re building a pit, then why did you make a smaller hole right here?” he asked, pointing at said opening in the dirt. “And if you’re building a fire, why aren’t you making one above ground? Are you trying to bury it or something?”

The shovel broke the last of the dirt wall between the holes before Yuu straightened up, gathering several long branches they’d collected with several large cuts of logs and starting to set them up at an angle. “Oh, I’m still building one above ground. I’m just making two different ones.” Pointing at the hole they’d just dug out, they said, “We call this one a ‘Dakota Fire Hole’. Typically this one is used for outdoor cooking, since it produces little smoke and doesn’t need a lot of fuel.” Setting some sticks and tinder inside the larger of the two holes, the took a piece of flint and began striking it with a stone. Soon a small yet hot fire was blazing inside the hole, just barely licking the air outside of the hole before settling down into a steady flicker. “The second hole generates airflow, which keeps the fire fueled with oxygen so it’ll burn longer.”

“Then what’s the other one for?”

“A self-feeding campfire.” They began loading chopped logs on both sides of the now V-shaped structure they’d built. “It uses gravity to drop new logs to keep the fire going, which means it’ll last all night. Pretty handy so you don’t have to keep getting up to replenish the log pile!”

One ear lowering in confusion, Ace stared at Yuu as they struck up another inferno on the bottom log. Somehow the fire didn’t crawl or spread to the rest of the logs. “…how exactly did you learn this?” he finally asked.

“Survivalist training. Why do you ask?”

Snap! Twang! “Fynaaah!?” Fwoosh!

“Uh oh. Grim! I told you to stay away from there! That’s where I set up the snare trap.”

“Why did you set it up so close to the tent?!” the chimera yowled as students stared in shock and surprise.

“To keep away intruders.” A sudden cacophony of clattering and clanging rang out, followed by a startled mix of a canine yelp and deer-like squeal before a thud hit the ground. “Epel! Are you okay?!”

“What is this?!” the einfield snarled, twisting and trying to untangle himself from the string of empty cans and bells. “Git it offa me!”

“Hold still, or you’ll strangle your wings! Ace, could you get Grim down for me? The snare hook is on the ground behind the tree on the tent’s left side.”

As Yuu went to free Epel from the new contraption—which Ace heard them comment was their ‘alarm system’—he shook his head in confusion and disbelief. What was even happening? Did Yuu pick up some strange trick from one of the spider monster students when he wasn’t looking? “I’m not taking another step until you tell me what other traps you set up,” he finally called out, warily looking around for more strings and rope near his large rabbit feet. “I don’t want to get tangled up in anything like those two did!”

“Oh don’t worry, I didn’t have time to set up any other snares or alarms yet,” Yuu called out, carefully freeing Epel’s arm before working on freeing the rest of his body. “You’re safe, so long as you-”

Shoof! “WAH!?!” a familiar loud voice screamed, the sound echoing so far that it reverberated through the trees. WHUD!! “Urk…HUMAN!!! What foul trickery is this?!?”

“…oh, right. I forgot about the pit trap I dug earlier,” Yuu said as multiple eyes stared at them.

“Why in Twisted Wonderland would you need to build something like that?!” Riddle all but shouted once it sank in what just happened.

“Hey, if a bear comes rampaging around the camp because you guys aren’t putting your food away, don’t come crying to me if there’s no pit trap to keep it busy!”

Needless to say, after everyone was rescued, no one could fathom how Yuu learned such archaic—if frighteningly deceptive—trapping methods for a camping trip. It wasn’t until the last night of Camp Vargas that they understood why when the remaining students used the trap to buy themselves some time from the “beast” before running to the swamp.

/-------------/

Now of course the defensive traps were pretty impressive, Ruggie had to admit that much. But traps that catch fish with little to no effort? Even he was impressed by the speed at which Yuu was able to harvest so many fish in one sitting, and with a simple stick and twine “fence”? Let alone the basketful of fish they’d caught by hand after making a shady spot with a tarp propped over the water!

“Sure, I could use a fishing rod if I wanted,” Yuu commented as they continued whittling away at the tip of a sturdy branch. “A net would also come in handy, but since we’re going to be here for a short time, I wouldn’t be able to make a decent one to use it effectively.” Jabbing their carving knife over at the fire pits they had dug earlier, they added, “Besides, if I don’t adapt and use what I have available, then I can lose out on a good food source and my chances of survival are slim to none.”

“Huh. Yeah, that makes sense,” he agreed, the leucrocuta looking between his catch and Yuu’s. The human’s collection was quickly catching up to Floyd’s, which was surprising since he’d stopped earlier due to boredom. “This came from that survival training thing you mentioned earlier, right?”

“Mm-hm! I can teach you a few things I learned if you want.”

“Shehehehe~! Sounds great! Just one question though: what’cha making? Some kind of walking stick?”

“Oh, this? It’s going to be a spear.”

“…spear?” The word sounded vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t quite place why as he tried to examine it. It didn’t look like anything he’d seen any other monster use or make before. “What’s it for?”

“It’s used for different things, like defense or attacking.” Cutting a few more chips off, Yuu stood up and examined their work. They had whittled one end of the branch to the point it was needle-sharp, a sight that weirdly sent chills down his spine when he looked at it. “I made this one specifically to go spear fishing. Here, I’ll show you!”

As they walked into the water, he expected the human to immediately strike into the water like they had when they did the shadow fishing. However, they simply stood still, eyes locked onto the water’s surface with the spear raised over their shoulder. He watched in silence, instinctively knowing that Yuu was hunting for their prey yet not understanding how this would work. Suddenly, they tensed, their shoulders tightening as they raised their spear higher in a smooth motion. For the briefest moment, he swore he saw the human with the needle-sharp arm in his history book instead of Yuu, his heart leaping in his throat at the vivid imagery. Before he could react, the spear was sent flying forward-

Splosh!

And struck the riverbed, Yuu immediately rushing forward to grab the upright tool before pulling it out. To his shock and utter amazement, the spear had pierced the body of a large trout, still flopping even as Yuu carried it back to shore with a triumphant grin on their face. Their smile faded to one of concern as they asked, “You okay, Ruggie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Chuckling nervously, Ruggie uttered, “Uh…you could say that.” A ghost of the past maybe, he thought as he picked up the baskets. “Hey, uh, why don’t we go ahead and cook these? I think we’ve got enough!”

“Oh. Sure, sounds good. Oh! I know a few tricks to preserve the meat for later!”

“Great! Just…do me a favor and not point that spear thing at anyone, okay?”

////////

I’m pretty sure there’s a lot more that could be said or done, but you get the picture. XD Hope you all enjoy!

[sailforvalinor]

A quick analysis of why Ezra and Thrawn are each other’s perfect nemesis (especially for those who aren’t as familiar with Rebels):

The reason that Thrawn is so dangerous is, of course, not just because of his analytical mind or brilliant battle tactics, but because he takes the time to know his enemy. He understands what all art historians or anyone in the liberal arts can tell you: that art is one of the clearest windows into a society, and studying a society’s art can tell you just as much, if not more than a history book can. Thrawn always takes the time to throughly understand his enemy before he fights them, and that includes the Jedi Ezra Bridger.

The problem is, however, that Ezra is not a typical Jedi. It stands to reason that what Thrawn knows about the Jedi comes from the Jedi Generals in the Clone Wars, who abided by very standard military tactics—and to a point, having fought in the Clone Wars, Kanan Jarrus, Ezra’s master, often used those tactics, and passed some of them on to Ezra. However, since he primarily fought in a small rebel cell, Ezra was primarily a guerrilla fighter. Even when they went on to join the larger Rebellion, Kanan and Ezra often avoided their larger full-scale battles in favor of smaller ops that catered to their talents, only joining large battles when it was absolutely necessary to turn the tables. And though he was a commander, it was actually fairly rare that he led troops into battle like the Jedi generals in the Clone Wars.

Additionally, while early on in his arc he shares some similarities with Anakin and Luke (especially in his struggle to figure out how to protects those he loves without falling to the Dark Side), it becomes apparent by the end of Rebels that he is on the path to becoming a Jedi like Qui-Gon Jinn or Yoda—that is, a Jedi very in-tune with the Living Force. Though he possesses many of the more physical talents we associate with the Jedi—heightened senses, strengthened physical abilities, skill with a lightsaber, etc—his talents have always tended towards the more cerebral (e.g., he was receiving extremely vivid visions of the future while struggling just to levitate an object). One really interesting thing about Rebels is that it often chooses to represent the presence of the Force with a high-pitched whistling sound, one that Ezra quite often seems to hear and let guide his decisions. He is also very prone to receiving extremely vivid Force visions. But the ability he is most known for, especially in Ahsoka, is his ability to connect to living beings. If you were wondering why such a deal is made over the Loth-Cat in episode one, it’s because Loth-Cats have become somewhat of a motif for Ezra, just like the purrgil—they seem to be always around him in Rebels, and serve as a sort of barometer to the audience as to how strong Ezra’s Force abilities are. In season one, they would just pop out and hiss at him every once in awhile, but by season four, they’re all over him—if he stood out in a field and held still for too long he’d just be buried in cats. The same goes for other creatures—he befriends the purrgil early on in the show, and is able to enlist their help in the finale. He’s also so in-tune with the Living Force on his home planet of Lothal that he is approached by Loth-Wolves, mysterious, spiritual beings who weren’t thought to exist outside the realm of myth, and shown a way to use a hyperspace corridor to travel to the other side of the planet.

However, this ability doesn’t just extend to animals—it extends to people, too. It’s like someone poured everything into his charisma stat. He makes friends everywhere he goes, so easily it’s like breathing, and people naturally gravitate towards him and want to help him. (It’s probably why he has made such good friends with those adorable rock people—he just can’t help being forcibly adopted wherever he goes.) The reason he is able to beat Thrawn in the end of Rebels is that he calls in every single favor from all the people he recruited to his side throughout the past four seasons, and when you see everyone on screen—former Imperial cadets, smugglers, deposed military leaders, space wolves, space whales, Clones, etc—it’s then that you realize just what an inspiring leader he is. If Ezra can get Hondo Onaka of all people to join Rebellion, you know he’s got something special.

Not to mention, since Ezra has spoken to and been indirectly trained by a Force being (the Bendu) and was the first on-screen Jedi to discover the World Between Worlds, it’s quite possible that he understands the Living Force better, or at least in a very different way, than most Jedi within the Order did.

To sum it all up, Ezra is just so different, so unconventional, both as a military leader and as a Jedi, that Thrawn, for all his military prowess, doesn’t know what to do with him. He is absolutely unpredictable, because he always abides by the will of the Force, something Thrawn is completely unable to get access to or understand. I always think of them when I see this meme:

because it’s almost quite literally what happens in the Rebels finale. Thrawn has pulled off a seemingly infallible maneuver, the Rebels are completely pinned-down, their resources are maxed-out, and he knows they will not risk the deaths of civilians. Ezra gives himself up, and he thinks he’s won. But then what does Ezra do? He summons a flock of purrgil who drag him, along with his entire Star Destroyer, into hyperspace and jump to another galaxy. How on earth could Thrawn have even predicted that? And even if he had known Ezra’s plan, what could he have even done?

That’s why Thrawn is so eager to kill Ezra in Ahsoka. Something tells me that he’s been hunting him in these ten years we haven’t seen them—because he knows that this one man is far more dangerous than anything waiting for him in the galaxy he is preparing to invade.

[whereserpentswalk]

Select an alternate universe to study abroad in for a semester. You'll be sent there with a new body that matches inhabitants of that realm. Little to no time will pass in your world, as time between dimension is entirely diffeent. Wherever you choose to go you won't be known to be from another dimension unless you tell people.

1- an endless forest made of massive trees, so tall no mortal soul has seen the ground or the unobstructed sky. The sentient races of this world consist of slender owl like humanoids, various insectoid races, short squat mushroom people, and a minority of rodent like creatures who live further down the trees. Technology in this world is as advanced as ours, but the aesthetics are more similar to our Victorian age. They say this world's heaven is deep above the trees, and this world's hell is deep below it, with each culture's religion having its own version of God/gods above an devils in the forest floor (outside of the mushroom people, who worship gods below.)

2- an endless system of volcanic caves and tunnels that demons and fallen angels come from. This realm is vast, and is ruled over by countless lords and kings, some truly evil, some merely strange. Demons and fallen angels come is countless forms, most looking somewhat humanoid, though with strange and unnatural distortions, from animal like parts to things humans would find much more horrifying. This is one of the few realms listed where they know what earth is, but they don't know much about it outside of myth.

3- an alternate earth where mythical creatures such as vampires, werewolves, deep ones, dragons, and witches exist. It also has a population of demons and faeries who came over generations ago. While they were in hiding for many millennium, they've now taken over most of earth, with humans being removed or conquered in some regions, and peacefully integrated into others. Though in both cases they are now a minority.

4- a version of earth that's both flat and entirely endless, with many sun's carving safe warm zones in the ice. Even with 21st century technology new lands are still being explored. Most social problems still exist, but things are looking a bit more hopeful, and the world's slightly nicer to live in. Cryptids, gods, magic and the afterlife are all proven to exist, even if humanity doesn't know much about them. Human bodies here naturally trend twords looking however the person inside them wants to look, and sexual attraction and pleasure don't exist.

5- an alternate earth where the kpg mass extinction never occurred. Dinosaurs remained dominant but kept evolving, leading to a sapient race eventually emerging from raptors. The raptors are currently at a similar technology level as us, though due to how they're mind works they've spent more time developing computers and mathematics than they have any other field of technology. Also don't mind the obelisk in the pacific ocean, nobody there knows what it does or who put it there either, and we won't put you anywhere near it.

6- a world filled with giant monsters of all kinds, some looking like massive dragons or Chimeras, others looking like more strange and colorful creatures. Though some animals are smaller, the smallest intelligent creatures are the size of bears, and the largest are much bigger than blue whales. Technology is limited in some regards, mostly as the inhabitants don't always need it.

7- the world of the faeries, strange and complex, and both terrifying and beautiful. Very little is known about this realm other than the strange and often dangerous creatures who come from this place. If you go here it's likely you will remember very little and enjoy very much.

8- a universe where humanity is completely isolated to spaceships and space stations, most of them the size of cities. Humans here are grown artificially, and have completely androgynous bodies that lack biological sex, and most of them combine their bodies with mechanical upgrades becoming cyborgs. Most humans never touch a planet, and those who do don't stay there for long. There are a few alien species with planetary civilizations, but almost all of them are strange and eldrich. Technology is incredibly advanced compared to ours, and quality is life is better. Most humans consider AI taboo, though normal computers are fine and commonplace.

9- a world where humans are entirely missing, but every species of mammal is sapient and humanoid. Birds and reptiles pick up the pace of animals in the ecosystem, as the mammals have created a global civilization. Though magic doesn't exist here, and technology is around a 21st century level, the quirks of each species have created a lot of situations impossible in our world. Though several nations exist, the main powers of the world consist of a group of powerful corporations, an ancient secret society, and the church of the dead gods, all of whom are locked in a cold war, that luckily keeps the nations of this world at peace.

10- a massive city, floating in the void, surrounded by eldritch horrors. Countless humanoids have made their homes in the city, most hailing from diffrent dimensions themselves, but permanently stuck here. Though many races here could pass for humans, none of them truly are, from the sirenia who have wings for arms and hands for feet, to the modutal who can take parts of their bodies off and swap them with other members of their race, to the subterranean vamire who eat raw meat and have albino skin, to the hyven whose minds are each split between two to five bodies. It's estimated between fifty to a hundred humanoids call the city home.

11- the abyss. Do not attempt to enter the abyss. We cannot assure your safety.

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 25 Perpetuity

(Spoilers for the end of Endwalker's Myths of the Realm)

Aeryn stood in Omphalos and watched the engine work. Its motions were hypnotic as it circled around itself, drawing in hopes and prayers, and dispersing that energy back into the world to aid humanity. A device of akasha and aether, elegant and lovely.

A familiar step sounded on the stone behind her, accompanied by the equally familiar pitter-patter of smaller feet, making her smile and hold out a hand to let the tiny opo-opo leap up and scramble up her arm to give her a friendly nuzzle.

“No treats, no matter how the little fellow begs,” Deryk said lightly. “He’s coming off a bout of upset stomach.”

“Poor baby,” Aeryn cooed, leaning her head against the creature, who chirred against her neck.

The wanderer stopped next to her, also looking up at the instrument of blessing. The collaborative work of ages, she was never sure he was aware of the slight smile and melancholic light in his eyes when he gazed upon it.

“So,” he said. “We meet here yet again. And again I ask: come to a conclusion yet?”

“No,” Aeryn replied, as shaking her head would dislodge the opo-opo, who was now playing with her hair. “When you first brought us here, and revealed the Twelve and their heavens, I’d hoped to find some answer. But it seemed more of the same. Divinity is just a construct of man, formed in desperation and empowered by prayer.”

Deryk nodded. “I can say there is a world of difference between what I was, and who I am now.”

“That’s a matter of power scale, which can be overcome.”

“In part, certainly,” he agreed. “But it’s more than that.” He looked aside, his gaze falling on the gate to the Heaven of Wind. “Sometimes the memories seem more like dreams, and too much for my fragile mortal mind. The time is incomprehensible—and that’s even before taking into account the man whose soul inspired Oschon’s existence.” He turned to Aeryn again. “Am I still not real, merely a construct?”

“Of course you’re real. And so was Oschon. Just born of humanity, like anyone else.”

“Hydaelyn created the Twelve,” he reminded her.

“From the energies of Her comrades. To perform roles and duties for which mankind worshiped them for, and in so doing, altered irrevocably.” She sighed. “And my feelings on Hydaelyn—on Venat—are likewise still complicated.”

“I understand that,” Deryk agreed. “I did not feel so before, but now? It’s a strange thing indeed. I’m not the man who aided in Hydaelyn’s creation; he is long dead, his aether given to form Hers, a fragment of his remnant soul used to create that which men called Oschon. Me, with an omnipresent view and ability to stride across this world we so loved as either the concept of wind, or in this form.” He gestured to his body. “I sometimes wonder if we took on avatars because some part of us yet remembered and yearned to be mortal again.”

“I’m certain I met Nymeia and Althyk’s original selves in Elpis,” Aeryn said, scratching under the opo-opo’s chin. “I helped with creations they were evaluating, and described the rite of flowers for the departed when some creatures were lost in an accident with others. There was familiarity in their divine personas, but they didn’t remember. Not really.”

“Yet they never lost sight of who they were to one another,” Deryk said, that sad smile on his face again. “They never struggled with it, unlike Menphina and myself.”

Aeryn raised a questioning brow.

“Of course I loved her—who didn’t?” he laughed. “In our first life, she was a brilliant young woman, and it was no wonder her divine self became who she was, and set to the tasks Hydaelyn chose. And we cared for one another, as we Twelve were family in our way. But was any romance our own, or determined by the prayers of man?” he shrugged. “Divinity is malleable.”

“That’s one of the things I struggle with,” Aeryn said. “Should it be, or shouldn’t gods be set, in order to form and order the world, and guide their creations and humanity? Shouldn’t they be...something beyond man? Not just in power, but in origin as well?”

“The more we discuss this, what it feels like you most resent is the loss of unknowing,” Deryk replied. “That you feel faith must include the question of origin.”

Aeryn mulled that over for a moment. “That would be part of taking it on faith, wouldn’t it? Of deciding to give trust based on a hope there’s something more to guide the way.” She looked up at the instrument of blessing again. “But I know so much of the origins of our world, of the divinities, and how and why they came to be. I know what can be manifested with enough aether, but warped by those requests.” The opo-opo chirred as her shoulders slumped.

“And you know too well what has been lost—in most cases, by your own hand.”

She winced at that. “On request.”

“Who else could be trusted? Not just in power, but on...faith.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“It goes both ways, you know,” he said mildly. “Even if I know your origins—born of man, with dragon’s blood running in your veins, raised outside this land where we held the most sway, but rising in it to become the one who could learn the truth, see it clearly, and grant us our greatest desire.” He gestured to the engine swirling above them. “And now we have laid down our burdens, while ensuring our duty is secured forevermore. Because we believed in you—as She did.”

Aeryn frowned. “That’s not the same as faith in divinity.”

“Isn’t it?”

[willtheweaver]

OC questionnaire tag

Thanks for the tag @the-golden-comet @paeliae-occasionally @drchenquill

My questions are:

1. Are you a dog person or a cat person?

2. How far do you think you could throw a hand sized rock?

3. Who is the one person you can trust with keeping a secret?

4. What is the worst situation you have ever been in and how did you get out?

5. Do you have any hobbies? If so, what?

6. If you could change one thing about your appearance, what would it be and why?

7. Are you an extrovert or an introvert?

8. As a gift, do you prefer flowers of jewelry?

9. If you could switch life with someone, who and why?

Hearing once more from the MC of A Feather in the Forest. This is a long one.

1. Are you a dog or a cat person?

Fen: Neither. Cats… they are feisty, even the ones smaller than a cougar. And dogs… they may have existed at one time, but now they’re just creatures of myth and legend. Closest thing to them are wolves, and they have not been seen inside the forest for years.

2. How far do you think you can throw a hand sized rock?

Fen: With just my hands? Eight yards. With my sling, I could get a stone to twenty with some degree of accuracy.

3. Who is the one person you can trust with keeping a secret?

Fen: Playa. I’ve known her almost all my life. I can trust her with anything.

4. What is the worst situation you have ever been in and how do you get out?

Fen: The worst situation is one that I fall into when I think about… sorry. It’s still so hard to talk about sometimes. I miss my mother… it can be hard to get out of slumps. I need some time alone. There, I think about everyone that has motivated me, and I resolve to push on.

5. Do you have any hobbies? If so, what?

Fen: Hobbies? Well, I enjoy spear fishing and darts. I also dabbled in whittling.

6. If you could change one thing about your appearance, what would it be and why?

Fen: Change my appearance? I don’t know if I would want to do that. I mean… I’m fine in my own skin, but I must remain hidden. Being a fox would mean I no longer need to hide. But still, this is something crazy, like out of the old stories.

7. Are you an extrovert or an introvert?

Fen: I would have to say I’m more of an introvert.

8. As a gift, do you prefer flowers or jewelry?

Fen: Flowers for sure.

9. If you could switch life with someone, who and why?

Fen: I don’t know if I would want to switch lives with anyone. It just doesn’t appeal to me, not to mention it sounds awkward to say the least.

Tagging @agirlandherquill @melpomene-grey @riveriafalll @literarynecromancy @leahnardo-da-veggie

@elizaellwrites @the-ellia-west @thatuselesshuman @whatwewrotepodcast @tildeathiwillwrite

@thewritingautisticat @fractured-shield and open tag

Your questions are:

1. Would you ever give up your dream if it meant that the dream of your closest friend/ family member would be fulfilled?

2. Have you ever had any recurring dreams/ nightmares?

3. What is one skill that you wish you could learn?

[obanais-koibito]

Warlock Sanemi x Neko Reader Part 1

Just in case you don’t know, a warlock is a man who practices witchcraft (basically like a male witch)

Sanemi was out on a walk to find some of the herbs he needed for his next spell. The forest was pretty quiet with the occasional rustling of leaves and bushes but it was quiet enough for him to zone out. He was lost in thought so he didn’t notice the little cat sleeping on the path and only noticed it when he nearly stepped on it. The cat scurried out of the path of his foot just in time.

“What the- oh, it’s a cat.”

He said as he recoiled his foot and the cat hissed at him while arching its back as a defense mechanism. He couldn't help but wonder why a random cat was in the middle of the woods all alone but then he figured it was a stray. He felt a little bad for the cat so he kneeled down next to it and slowly reached out his hand to pet it. The cat hesitated before letting Sanemi gently scratch behind its ear.

“Wonder what sick human lets a poor cat all alone in the wild.”

He mumbled, disappointed that someone could be this heartless. 

“Some humans are pure evil.”

The cat replied, he wasn’t expecting an answer but when he received one, he recoiled back since he was startled.

“Huh?!”

He watched as the cat before him shifted into a human with cat ears and a tail.

“What the hell are you? Some sort of demon or ghost?!”

You tilted your head in a confused manner.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a neko, I thought you were smart but I guess I was wrong.”

He dismissed the insult and said,

“A neko huh? I thought those were just a myth…”

You smacked him with your tail and he looked at you with a surprised expression along with an annoyed one.

“Hey! What the hell was that for?”

“Cmon, a myth? Really, are you that gulliable and naive?”

He glared at you before letting out a sigh and rolling his eyes. He didn’t want to leave the neko out in the wild alone, plus he admitted that it was a little lonely all by himself all the time.

“Stop being snappy and sassy and I will let you live with me, deal?”

You were incredibly eager to get out of the forest, it was often cold and nerve wracking at night since there were some dangerous animals roaming for prey. It was challenging to find available food and sometimes you even had to hunt creatures smaller than yourself to survive. You were also curious as to why this man was wearing strange clothes and in the middle of the woods.

“Deal.”

He nodded and you shifted back into cat form so that he could carry you through the forest. 

“Do you know your way around here?”

He asked you and you nodded.

“Are there any angelica leaves or epazote?”

“Yea…why?”

You asked in a skeptical tone, was he a chef or something? He sighed before answering your question.

“I need them for spells since I ran out, that’s the reason why I am here.”

You stared at him, did he say spells? He picked up that you were waiting for him to continue.

“I’m a warlock, I practice witchcraft.”

After staring at him for a couple seconds longer, you started laughing and he looked at you confused.

“What’s so funny?”

He asked in an annoyed tone, he already knew that he was going to regret this decision to keep you.

“Magic isn’t real, that’s what’s funny so you just mix different shampoos in the showers and call them potions like a little 5 year old?”

You continued to laugh and he just kept walking while scowling. Once your laughter died down, he asked.

“Answer my question, are there any angelica leaves or epazote? I don’t have all day.”

“Oh yea, they're both next to the same swamp although the swamp is a bit far from here. You still need those herbs *in a mocking tone* for your wittle potions?”

You began laughing again and Sanemi just groaned, he couldn't wait to prove you wrong and show you how real his magic was. About an hour flew by before Sanemi walked inside his home with his herbs and his new companion. He placed you down and went to go put the herbs up in a proper place.

You wandered around, observing the details of his home.

“Wow, he must be really into this witchcraft stuff…”

You muttered and then he came back with some clothes for you.

“Yea, because I’m a warlock I need to have this stuff. Now stop talking about it and put these on. I bet they’re a lot more comfortable than the clothes you’re currently wearing.“

He handed you the clothes as you shifted into human form and you took them from him. They were your size and this puzzled you, he saw the confused expression on your face and thought it was kind of cute.

“How do you know what size I am?”

He chuckled and winked at you.

“Magic.”

[pansy-placebo]

Tw; discussion of death and grief, including children experiencing grief

It just hit me: You know how sometimes there are creatures in fiction which can "only" be seen by people "touched by death," usually meaning grief? Sometimes near-death experience? Sometimes the creatures themselves are death, or are agents of death?

Such a creature could not escape being seen in public.

In the stories they feature in, it's usually about whether or not the protagonist (s) can see them, not thinking much about the broader implications. Oh, yeah, there'll be a scene where someone spots it and watches it go by. But like. Not a lot of people tugging on their friends and going "you see that?" "Yeah, I see it." "Oh, I see it too!" "What is it??" "I don't know..."

Even if it passed by a school of children it'd still get spotted by some of the kids. I can think of at least three people who had one of their parents die while I was in school with them.

I'm only like 25 and I can't think of many I know in my age range who haven't gone through grief, of either a beloved relative or a dear friend.

If you up the ante to "saw someone you love die" then, sure, you get a smaller number, but it would still be unable to hide in public. And if the creature was foolish enough to pass by an old folk's home it would be spotted by literally everyone looking its direction.

The density of the population who can see it will naturally vary by time and location, but there's always a base minimum of people who're dying no matter what is happening.

So instead of it being a myth, it would be a commonly-known phenomenon. Parents who spotted it would explain to their kids what they were talking about, how their kids will see the creatures one day, just hopefully not one day soon. Maybe illustrations of the creatures would be shown in children's books, so they won't be surprised when they start to see them.

Idk. I just feel like the potential of "thing that can only be seen by experiencing ____" isn't often brought to it's fullest. I know it's often for the mood of the story- there are many stories of a "secret other world/society" hidden within out own, but I think that creature has more potential for world building than the cases I've seen it used in

[ramble-bloo]

A small lore drop about Giants

When we say "a giant" we simply think of large human" but, similar to how "Dragons" are a class system in Lore with an abundance of various kinds, the same goes for the word "Giant". They don't always look human and sometimes can be a completely different creature, like a fox or even a squirrel. This is super important to remember as I use the word giant going forward as some that I discuss have the appearance of mythical beasts and not humans.

ANYWAYS There are three main categories: Ancient, Gigantic (or just giant), and Tall.

Ancient giants used to roam Lore back when there was more space and the Sun and Moon had just split the planet from Earth. However, their massive size took up too much space and with each step threatening to crush literal kingdoms under just one foot, the Celestial Gods resorted to sending many into an eternal slumber where they dream and simply roam Lore in spirit. They are unbelievably huge, to the point some are the foundations of countries. Many have become mountain ranges. Appearance wise, when they were awake, they looked like walking landscapes. Nature coated their bodies with earth instead of flesh and leaves instead of hair (or whatever mix and match-up of nature).

There are stories and myths shared where it's believed these slumbering giants will one day wake up and roam Lore again but these are simply just stories. You can count on one hand how many Ancient giants are still active and roaming about, deep within the core of Lore itself. The lifespan of an Ancient giant is unknown but it's common to come across an offering spot seemingly in the middle of no where in tribute of the Ancient slumbering underneath or nearby.

Gigantic giants are much smaller than Ancient ones but much larger than Tall ones. They, just like the Ancients, used to roam Lore. But once again, the large amount of smaller inhabitants that the Celestial Gods had created to populate the planet led to things becoming cramped. And adding into the mix the fact some giants had taken to enjoying the taste of human, it became important to give them their own land free of conflict. This is where the sky domain came into play. A land above to mirror the land below, everything is much larger than its equivalent.

Magic helps to create a boundary so the regular resident cannot reach this sky domain unless they use the right tools and vice versa. That's not to say every Gigantic giant dwells in the sky as some, mostly the more friendly ones, reside in locations down below alongside humans.

As mentioned before, some Gigantic giants took a liking to eating humans or simply wrecking havoc on smaller Lore residents in the past (and some continue into the present). Their increased aggression also causes them to become more likely to lash out at their fellow giants, resulting in some cannibalizing the other (a horrifying site to stumble across if you are a normal sized Lore citizen). This behavior is frowned upon in Gigantic society. It's harshly punished, especially from the gods who have damned those who practice this habit, resulting in monstrous side effects. These are more noticeable in the more humanoid giants, whose human appearance become twisted and their teeth become more sharp and pronounced. This curse aids as a warning to others to steer clear of giant monsters and to punish those who dare harm their fellow Lore dweller.

These bloodthirsty Giants are always the ones I am talking about when discussing Giant Slayers, who took on the most monstrous giants of every shape, size, and beast.

Tall giants (also known as Tall Fellows) are a kind of giant that is a more recent development...or more recent than Ancients and Gigantics. This is because they are the results of a Gigantic and an "average" sized Lore resident. Due to this, they are smaller than a Giant but larger than an average sized resident. Specifically, large enough to often pass as simply being extremely tall. Tall Fellows have a similar lifespan to a human and are all found in human civilizations due to their smaller giant size making living among smaller residents less of a hassle as they are still shadowed by Gigantics.

[yonemurishiroku]

ELABORATE MORE ON LITTLE MERMAID AU????

Uhm... I... don't have anything...?

😭😭😭 I'm so sorry omg it was just a whim and the only thought i had was like omg Bianca sounds like Ariel minus the falling in love part so I just ajdajsdhak went with it. I absolutely had no idea how the story might progress beyond whatever I posted about it.

But since you asked. Maybe I can try to provide some concepts.

The barest idea I have of this TLM AU stems from an old post about a deep-sea merman Nico - which is exactly what I decided to go with in this particular AU.

Which, ok, maybe doesn't go that well with the fact that Percy is a human. He'd probably die before sinking low enough to reach Nico.

But heyyyyyy how about we make Nico rise to the surface once in every while to wreak havoc on those who harm his sister? And Percy - the risk-taking dumbass he is - decides to jump right into the myth of a sea monster because he, well, is a dumbass?

(Told ya I have solutions for everything)

I just love the concept you know? Nico as the giant, oversized sea creature that locks himself away out of sheer grief for his sister and resentment towards the humans.

When he's at the bottom of the ocean, hugging himself and weeping, earthquakes stem from his cries that reverberate through the seabed; his tears turn into deep, vicious currents that suck boats and ships into vortexes, sinking them.

When he rises though, the sea rages with him. It's a disaster for any ship that comes near him. Every sway of his tail sends tsunamis across the ocean. He doesn't cry but his tears still fall, drop after drop of silver that freezes the surface because he brings the coldness of the trenches with him.

I have two visions about this AU.

The first is when Percy decides to take his chance with the sea-monster-that-heralds-disasters myth. He takes a smaller boat and not unexpectedly, he falls into the water, and catches sight of Nico. He sees his glowing pale skin, the chaotic currents wrapping around him, and the dark, dark eyes that nearly suck Percy's soul into the trenches. Just this... overwhelming presence of something that's so much larger, greater than him - a mere pirate obsessed with conquering the ocean.

(Nico sees him, too, but Percy's just a human to him then, something he can't bring himself to care whether they're dead or alive)

That encounter should scare Percy off. But he loves the seas too much and risk-taking even more to back off now. He also wants to come to the bottom of this myth, because in his opinion, Nico, albeit scary, seems so sad. His sadness overflows the water, and Percy can feel it.

Percy's a dumbass, but Annabeth, his navigator, isn't. She suggests asking around, so they go to the nearest town and do just that.

Percy meets Hazel, in this case, is exactly the Witch. She's the protector of the seaside town that's the nearest to Nico's residence.

(Obviously) Hazel is Nico's sister - once a mermaid, now staying on land to shield the innocent humans that her sister loved from her brother's grief.

When the vague story that Hazel tells doesn't satisfy him, Percy says he would find out by himself. Hazel realizes that Percy's interest is genuine with such a rasp enthusiasm to learn about Nico, she entrusts her hope in him. That comes in the shape of a protection spell that might aid Percy in his journey through the despair that Nico might bestow.

And there Percy goes. He goes to Nico, under the water. He sees Nico closely for the first time and he wants to see closer. Their eyes meet. Percy gets to hear Nico's voice - the rumbles of the seabed, the whales' weeping, the tunes of undercurrent waves. They talk.

Nico after such a long time away from contact, doesn't understand how a human can dive so low and get past the barrier of his tears so many times. Although the resentment he still holds prompts him to chase Percy away with a flap of his fins a few times, he's come to question Percy's intention.

This time, Nico holds Percy in his large hands - never close to touching but enough to appear cherishing - and listens to what he has to say.

Percy's inquiry, however, sets Nico off - ("I won't kill you, but with you and your kind, the emptiness inside me would never heal") - and Percy's sent back to the surface through powerful rushing water.

The next time they meet is when Nico rises to the surface to gaze toward the faraway land and wonder what was so beautiful about the humans that managed to take Bianca away from him. The sea, in tune with Nico's grief, rages. Though, Percy has never been one to surrender a few waves.

He goes again. Without Hazel's protection though. He goes through all that natural disaster by himself to reach Nico's side. He nearly dies, of course - and he would have been if not for Nico's hands shielding him from the rain and storms. Nico's tears are dry on his face, and Percy watches them shimmering under the dark of the merman's irises from where he lays between Nico's freezing large pale fingers.

Percy's stubbornness prompts Nico to see humans in a different light.

And that's everything LMAO I'm too old for this. Yes I've just come up with all of that^^^ as I wrote. As I've said, all I have is the visions. It'd be months or years (or an eternity) until I write something ajsdhajkdas.

Hope this might entertain you even just a little tho lolol

@lukecastellanshandholder too bc I think you'd like to see this...

[moonlight-tmd]

anymore info on your cyberbeast au?

Actually i have a few fun facts!

-I already said they can adapt to their enviroment (land, water, air). Their Beast Mode basically consists of 3 creatures they can swap into to be more efficient. Bumblebee for example- His Beast Mode has an aquatic type similar to a Mosasaurus but with clawed front paws instead of fins, the land type kind of looks like ARK's Shadowmane, the arial type is basically a wyvern. All of the alt types for his Beast Mode have horns and a beak, plus the feathers. To add to that, Cyberbeasts can switch into a half-alt where they have their beast features but are still somewhat Cybertronian, that allows them to talk while being a 'beast. Bee will make an awesome siren

-Since they're technically techno-organic in a sense, they can eat organic food. Bee doesn't know that, but he wishes he could eat it. The other 'beasts (Megs and Shock) aren't keen on eating organic stuff, they prefer more civilized meals like other completely normal cybertronians. Blitzwing just eats whatever gets near his intake, he doesn't care.

-While in Beast Mode, they tend to rely on their instics more than their intelligence. They can be playful or even cuddly but one should never forget how dangerous they really are.

-I already said it i think but the Cyberbeast Hunter groups use specail equipment to locate and capture/kill Cyberbeasts: >They have ultra-sensitive radars that will detect an anomaly whenever a Cyberbeast changes into its Beast Mode. >The chains and muzzles they put on the 'beasts are exceptionally sturdy. Same with cages for the smaller Cyberbeasts. >The nets they catch them with are infused with a special chemical that burns into their plating- the holobolts(arrows) and harpoons have a toxin that slowly kills them if it gets into their system

-In connection to the point above, Cyberbeast can regenerate rather quickly, ex: if they're stuck with a holobolt, it will take approximately 2 days for it to fully heal on its own. On top of that, they have a natural antitoxin to combat whatever venom gets in their system- it's a good defense mechanism but if there's too much venom then they will most likely die if they don't get help.

-Like i said in earlier posts, Cyberbeasts are considered to be a myth. They say the last time someone saw a Cyberbeast was in the ancient times of early Cybertron, where the technology they have now only started growing. I imagine the reason for it was because people got scared that their guardians(Cyberbeasts) will turn on them, so they fought against them- hence why Cyberbeasts are hiding themselves in plain sight.

-Megatron has a rule where if he finds a Cyberbeast, he takes them hostage and puts them in some neutral zone asylum to preserve what little is left of Cyberbeasts.

-Cyberbeasts can sense whether a person is a Cyberbeast or not- as i said Cyberbeasts have a specific scent that only other Cyberbeasts can smell. The ones who already had their Awakening know they met another Cyberbeast, those who haven't yet don't think much of it.

I think that's about it for now, thank you for reading.

[nonbinaryeye]

Myths of Gods (and their Godly bickering)

Written for @lonelyeyesweek

Day 2 - Mythology

There are many great myths and legends about Gods and their Godly deeds. But days of Gods cannot always be filled just with battle of wits and armies. Sometimes they are filled with petty little arguments.

Read on AO3

…

Gods are quite peculiar creatures. Born just from one’s belief. So powerful, greater than life, yet dependent on silly mortals and their prayers and faith. Luckily humans just love believing in stories and so for now there is no reason to worry about their Godly existence. Well at least the better-known Gods do not have to worry. There are also many of smaller ones, less important, those that will get forgotten almost as soon as they are born, worshiped by one village, one long winter from getting forgotten by their believers…

But no need to worry about them. They are not important to be given a proper legend. No, those are saved for the important Gods. Gods of Flame and Destruction, Gods of Deception and Insanity, Gods of the Death and End, Gods of Vast Skies and Space, Gods of Disease and Rott, Gods of War and Killing and so many and many more playing the starring roles in great number of ballads and dramas and songs and epic poems.

But God cannot always be in some great battle or planning some genius scheme or either helping or torturing mortals… So there of course are theories and stories of how their free time looks as well. And as it was established before… If enough people believe it, it must manifest into truth…

“Jonah!” God of Loneliness angrily enters the shrine of God of Knowledge. It is a glamorous and spectacular building filled with books and priceless artifacts and of course decorated by the characteristic All-Seeing eyes – it is said that the God of Knowledge can see from them everything that is happening anywhere in the world. Not exactly a place where the God of Forgotten would feel the most comfortable. Alas for once he is annoyed enough to ignore the uncomfortable stares from all sides.

“Yes, that happens to be one of my names. Is there any particular reason why you come here screaming it, Peter?” addressed God puts down his Quill and raises his sight of the manuscript as if he only now noticed his Guest and was not curiously watching him for the entirety of his way here.

“You know very well why I am here!” Peter folds hands on his torso, a gesture that is a bit ruined by his toga sliding off his shoulder. It is quite simple, dark blue with a silver rim yet Peter still struggles with how to fold it around himself properly. Jonah is dressed in much more complex and fancier toga in bright green colour decorated with intricate golden hem which he manages to wear in much more noble fashion. However, it is not exactly clothing either of them would choose, unfortunately people and their drawings were quite clear regarding Godly dress code.

“Do I?” the God of Watching asks with theatrically overdone surprise. His uninvited guest does not seem to be amused. And well, to say Jonah knows why exactly he is here would be a bit of overstatement. His state of knowledge to this particular subject is more like strong suspicion than certainty.

To make it clear, what exactly their titles of Godhood actually are, one must understand that even though there are some universally known and accepted Gods, people do not always agree exactly what their area of power exactly is. They are understood and worshiped the same way in different parts of the world, often even bearing different names.

For example Jonah is God of Knowledge, of Watching, of Seekers of the truth and of Innovations and Discoveries, and also of Perception and Sight and sometimes even Towers and many other things as it tends to be with Gods. Because if you need help with something and you are not currently keen to create a new God you can always just decide that it belongs in a jurisdiction of an already existing one. So of course, Peter’s list of things he was supposed to be God of is not any shorter. From the main ones he is God of Loneliness, of Forgotten, of Solitude and among many other things sometimes also God of Fog or even God of Sea Voyages.

“So, are you going to elaborate?” Jonah tries to prompt his conversational partner after the silence starts getting way too long. It is not as if he had no idea what could cause all this fuss. On the contrary. There are way too many things he is aware that he has done that could upset the other God and he would hate to accidentally confess doing something Peter was not aware of yet.

“You stole one of my priests,” God of Loneliness finally speaks his accusation and… is that really all? Jonah honestly did not even think he would notice. Besides, his accusations are not even technically true…

“Priests-to-be! He was not even your follower for that long. And people change who they worship all the time. You know how fickle they tend to be… So, really no big deal I would say.” He should have known it would be something like this.

“I was quite fond of him…”

For how long they know each other, the God of Loneliness never stops surprising him as he never cares about things Jonah would expect him to and makes scenes about little things like these.

“There are plenty of lonely boys around. You will find a different one,” God of Knowledge waves his hand as if it is not worthy talking about any longer because it indeed is not. The other God, as always, does not share his opinion. He frowns, calculating look in his cold eyes. He leans closer to him.

“Ah, yes, I’ve noticed scholars tend to be quite solitary, maybe I should steal one of your precious followers in return.”

“Oh, go ahead and try it! You stand no chance. Their loneliness comes from their dedication to studying and learning. You can offer them only the exact opposite of what they want…” Jonah leans to him as well.

“Are you daring me? You know I would never refuse such a bet.” A spark flickers in Peter’s eyes and Jonah immediately regrets his words. He loves a good wager, but he also does not like to play a game of chance.  Statistically speaking it would be foolish to fully trust in the full commitment of all his worshippers.

“Do what you want I will not play with lives of those devoted to me…” he tries to play it safe. And also a bit of a change topic seems like a good idea, now where were they- “Nevertheless, your favourite little priest-to-be would never commit to you anyway. If it was not me, I have from… hm… reliable sources that Anabelle had her eyes on him.”

This seems to indeed catch Peter’s attention. Unfortunately he immediately follows it with: “One more reason why you should have included yourself into it, you seem to already have enough disagreements with her.”

Yes, Jonah ironically has not the best relationship with the Goddess of Relationships. She was also Goddess of Connections, of Manipulation, of Spiders et cetera et cetera, as she was getting too close to his territories being also the Goddess of Secrets. And what else is a secret than a valuable information, a knowledge, that should be his area of and not hers! He would never tell her that openly of course. But he might be a bit daring and he already stole one of her priests before. But it is not like she was not meddling with some priestesses of his before so it seemed only fair…

“Thank you for your concerns but I have everything under control.”

“Do you now?”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” he tells Peter much more certainty with himself than he feels like. He knows, of course that he Knows, that he has been testing her patience a bit too much lately. Peter’s remark is the proof of that. His action must appear to be really bold when, even someone oblivious as he is, notices them. It is only natural that some Gods were getting along better than others but most of them are quite competitive and hostile towards each other. And as much as it is a normal state of affairs among Gods, the God of Forgotten for once does have a point. The enemies of the God of Knowledge seem to be unfortunately growing and so it might not be wise to boldly laugh at the one of the few allies he still does have… 

“Anyhow, enough about Anabelle. Shouldn’t we move back to the topic of your gracious visit?”

“Yes. I want my priest back.”

Jonah takes a deep breath. Peter, like a spinning wheel, repeats over and over the same line. As if he did not know as well that they do not tend to directly affect the life of humans… it is mostly just suggestions and gentle nudges… he cannot just appear to his priest and tell him how whiny is the God he was considering dedicating his life before him and whether would be so kind and convert because he is tired of listening to that.

“You know that is not how it works. He made his decision-“

“I don’t care.”

Ah, this will be a long debate. Is the fragile allyship really worthy?

“Alright, alright… I am certain we can come to some agreement.”

“I am not interested.”

“First hear my offer then refuse!” he puts on his charming smile. Luckily, he Knows God of Loneliness to his dismay quite well. “Of course, I would not dare to strike any deal without offering you a glass of ambrosia.” That indeed peaks Peter’s interest. He seems to be contemplating it for a while but then he resigns.

“Just make it short… Also, do you have any place here without all those eyes?”

“You’ve been in my shrine plenty of times, Peter, you know very well then I do not.”

 They have quite an interesting relationship – the God of Knowledge and the God of Forgotten. Or at least so people seem to believe. They seem like opposing powers yet somehow they get along – as much as Gods are able to get along. Of course, in some parts people believe that they despise each other and that sometimes really is the case. In other parts some worshippers believe that they are lovers. Some branches of their worshippers might even go as far as to claim they married. It makes a lovely story of opposites that attract and such. Those naïve enough trying to find some consistency in both of the ideas might even decide both claims might be true and they get a divorce from time to time. Afterall what would be any good religion without at least a tiny bit of drama?

[horizon-verizon]

Love how some will say that Alicent was right to demand Lucerys' eye for Aemond's eye-for-an-eye, say that this principle of "justice" was "normal" for this non modern setting, say that Alicent's demand made sense and we shouldn't criticize her for it...

And then say that Daemon having B&C kill Jaehaerys for Lucerys' murder was somehow different.

"An eye for an eye, a son for a son,” Prince Daemon wrote. “Lucerys shall be avenged."

(Fire and Blood; "A Son for a Son")

So here we have both persons work from eye-for-an-eye.

Lucerys was younger than Aemond. Just as Jaehaerys was younger than Lucerys.

Yet Alicent gets out scot free for her actions in the moral debate?

Jaehaerys' murder and how it went down was both blood-chilling and tragic. It was also a direct response to Lucerys' murder, which Aemond willfully did.

So we can't treat eye-for-an-eye as the justification for Alicent to then enact her own unfair, traumatic act. (Which happened before any other vengeful act from the blacks.)

And you know what else was “normal”, or sometimes seen as “good” or “necessary” for this fantasy world that's nonmodern-structured?

Marriages between siblings, aunts and nephews, uncles and nieces, and first cousins.

While Westerosi were against sibling marriage due to the Faith of the Seven and the old gods faith explicitly forbidding it, avunculate (uncle/niece or aunt/nephew) marriages could still happen amongst the nonTarg nobles of Westeros. There were Starks who married their uncles. (LINK) Though uncommon, it was allowed and not seen as a sin equal sibling marriage/sex and parent-child were.

Killing a great number of native peoples (the Children of the Forest and the giants) until they were forced to occupy smaller tracts of land to make way for an invading force's settlers (the First Men). To the point where these creatures are considered myth, which in a sense is even worse than what happens to indigenous people around the real world in actual colonizing events.

The right of the first night (a First Men custom), where a lord can bed(rape) the newly wedded woman of their subordinate before her husband does if he chose (peasant or knight or other vassal). It was excused as an act that "blessed" her and her husband with his "spirit" (or something) being personally put into their lives. And if she happens to birth his child, then they are excused as more "blessed" because that vassal/peasant now has a child of "greatness". The custom existed and was a huge mark for a lord's aristocratic identity before Queen Alysanne and Septon Barth convinced Jaehaerys I to make it officially illegal. And even then, some lords still raped newly wedded peasant women before she can with her husband but did/do it secretly. Roose Bolton, Ramsay Snow/Bolton's after, practices first night, which is how Ramsay was born. Roose exists during the current events of ASoIaF. (This fictional practice takes from the debated-to-have-existed “Droit du seigneur”/ “right of the lord” or the “jus primae noctis”/“right of the first night” of medieval Europe. Cross reference the references given at the bottom of the website.)

Marrying people under 18 to people decades older than them. (18 is the modern American age of consent/majority and the age of majority in Westeros is 16, while people even under that were married in recognized marriages: Maegor I, Aemma Arryn, Viserys II, Jaehaera Targaryen, Daeneara Velaryon, Aegon III, Daenerys Stormborn)

Before Aegon I, it was customary for a man to beat his wife however many times he wanted if she cheated on him. And Aegon's sister-wife/Queen Consort/conquest partner, Rhaenys, managed to get the number of times a man can hit his wife down to 6--each for each god of the Faith of the Seven except for the Stranger (death god).

Woman/girl-stealing is part of the Old Way of the ironborn did as part of their belief/custom. Truly kidnapping and rape. They would sail to many parts of Westeros and kidnap women and girls to take as their thralls and then their "salt wives" if they wished. This kidnapping is what the same Queen also urged Aegon I to make officially illegal.

All of these things were either real in-universe customs or real actions people took for themselves. These are the exact things that some will condemn on a moral basis (valid) but then they also argue for Alicent's uprightness for doing a thing that in itself is amoral. Her being a mother and wanting to hurt someone else for hurting her son using such an amoral principle like as eye-for-an-eye doesn't make her a moral model to aspire to. Just a mother who's looking out for revenge.

She was not out here trying to act fairly nor does her action right a wrong. It was purely an emotional response to destroy those who hurt her son, which is itself valid but it can't be seen as inherently justified or "good" when it also means that you will have another traumatized child, younger than the other (just as Jaehaerys was), on your hands.

This why eye-for-an-eye is horrible. It is unproductive and actually brings about more resentment, more violence, more destruction without any problem solving. This is why it's avoided in the first place.

But again, I must reiterate that Daemon is not worse than Alicent herself when they both use eye for and eye their justification of "justice". It is that Alicent began it of her own volition and with fully functioning faculties.

[buffyfan145]

I was thinking about Sauron being able to shape-shift into a giant wolf and being known as "The Father of Werewolves." Obviously, Tolkien was drawing inspiration from the Norse myth of Fenir (son of Loki), the Giant Ragnarok Wolf that's destined to kill Odin. Hence, why he made Werewolf Sauron such a terror. But, I wonder did he ever consider the more positive aspects of Sauron's wolfish nature? Wolves are highly social creatures that have strong family packs. They usually mate for life; males help rear the cubs; they are fiercely protective, loving, and will grieve for pack members. The idea of the 'Lone Wolf' without a pack fits Sauron and explains what he's missing. Plus, Galadriel and him fighting together gave me all kinds of Alpha Female Wolf and Alpha Male Wolf vibes. It should also be noted alpha pairs pick each other based on mutual strength. They want the strongest possible mate to produce the strongest cubs and carry on the pack. Sounds like Sauron wanting to make Galadriel a queen "As fair and the sea and sun, and mightier than the foundations of the earth." 🐺 👑 She-Wolf Queen Galadriel!

I love this!!! :D I've wondered about this too as werewolves are some of my favorite paranormal creatures and it's all thanks to my Dad introducing me to the classic Universal Monster movies when I was little as they're some of his favorite movies. So I grew up knowing The Wolf Man, Dracula, Frankenstein, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, The Mummy, The Bride of Frankenstein, The Phantom of the Opera, and all the other smaller ones. However I always had a sympathetic POV to all those "monsters" which my parents were always fascinated by, especially to Lon Chaney, Jr.'s The Wolf Man/Larry Talbot. He couldn't help being cursed and turning into this creature during the full moon and he lost the love of his life because of it and it was just so sad. I always thought of the werewolves as more sympathetic since they're normal humans the rest of the month compared to the other "monsters" (besides Frankenstein) that fully changed into those creatures and lost all their humanity.

Weirdly those movies came out while Tolkien was writing all these books in the 1930s, 40s, and 50s, so it's possible they could've been influences too besides just the Norse mythology and other myths and legends we know that also influenced him. But for me that also turned into watching and reading paranormal/sci-fi/fantasy and how I also watched "Buffy", the original "Dark Shadows" show, "Being Human", "Penny Dreadful", "The Shape of Water", Maggie Steifvater's books especially "The Wolves of Mercy Falls", and so many more that also deal with these types of stories and then Loki being my favorite Norse god thanks to the Marvel movies and Tom Hiddleston's performance.

So knowing about how Sauron could shapeshift into a wolf/werewolf, as well as also be a vampire, I do see everything you mentioned too. And you're totally right about wolves and being the alpha male and alpha female of their pack and how Sauron sees them ruling their kingdom together. Also again I don't think Sauron fully lost his Mairon self till he created the One Ring or maybe even after when he got rid of his "fair form" so during what we're seeing on the show Mairon's still in there.

[taranodongirl]

My Pokemon Headcanons part 1

Pokemon Headcanons

Livestock and normal animals exist in the Pokemon world, just not all the ones we have on earth and they are either in special farms for food, in the wild but not noticed because people care more about catching pokemon than mice, or are kept in protected areas for study. - For example, We have seen characters eat meat and regular chicken eggs, Carnivine’s Pokedex entry says it likes to eat small insects and animals, and in the early episodes of pokemon, regular fish have been seen a lot. - While in one episode Ash and Brock imagined eating a sushi dish that looked like it was made from a Magikarp, this could’ve been a dish that was made to look like a Magikarp. - Many cooking techniques in the real world can make a dish look like animals and in Pokemon Cafe Remix all the foods are based on pokemon and even look like them.

The Giant Kangaskaan that was in the early seasons of pokemon (Ep: The Kangaskaan Kid) was a variant of Kangaskaan that can grow bigger than the ones caught by trainers (like how the Indian and African elephants are different sizes).

I believe that Baby Pokemon sometimes look different than the adults. For example, Pokemon that are usually large in size are smaller as babies and don’t have the same features that the adults have (ex: Newborn Trophus are the size of a medium dog and don’t have their fruits yet but they get them as they grow up.). It’s like how deer are born with spots but lose them as they grow. I plan to use this in a fanfic I want to write.

The backpacks that pokemon trainers have function like Marry Poppins’s magic carpet bag. We always see characters with just one small backpack, handbag, or camping bag and yet they can pull out pokemon eggs, tents and sleeping bags, food, cooking equipment, tables, etc.

Time moves differently in the Pokemon world (Ash is still 10). My theory is that they have more weeks in a month, more months in a year, etc. As a result, people age at a different rate than we do, and the Planet Earth in Pokemon is a lot older than our Earth.

Much of the messed up or scary Pokedex entries are outdated theories or based on urban legends. (example: Greavard’s Pokedex says that it absorbs the life from humans, but I like to believe that is an ancient myth that was proven false and that instead, it absorbs energy or heat) I like to think that these were proven wrong, but kept in the Pokedex to encourage trainers to stay safe or investigate if they’re true.

Social issues are still a thing. We know that the Pokemon world isn’t perfect due to the criminal organizations it has, but from what episodes I’ve seen so far we haven’t seen any human slavery or racial discrimination (other than Johto being scared of other cultures but that is just a reference to Japan). I like to think that if there is extreme discrimination, it’s more directed to disabilities, rich or poor social standing, addiction, or if someone has/had a family member that did a crime.

Disney movies, Earth Holidays, and Fairy Tales exist in the Pokemon world, just in a different form or with different endings. - In one episode of pokemon, Misty was in a play about a Mermaid so we know that fantasy creatures are a thing, plus Fairy is a new Pokemon Type, so maybe there have been old stories about fae and cryptids, but some were discovered to be Pokemon. - Also there have been a few Christmas specials, one even with Santa and in Pokemon X and Y there are some references to 101 Dalmations and Saving Mr. Banks.

Charmander and its evolution's tail flame isn’t connected to its life like if you blow it out they die, but more like if they die their tail goes out. - Plus, I doubt their tail flame is so delicate that goes out as easily like if it gets wet in the rain or drags it on a snowy ground. But the Pokedex does mention that its flame gets weak if they are in poor health, so I do believe that it can be at risk if the Pokemon is sick, completely submerged in water, or is at risk of freezing to death. -Basically, the tail flame functions like a heart monitor and is a way to let it and others know if it’s in poor health and is as strong as the pokemon is.

Some forms of Pokemon science, such as vivisection, are illegal and that is why most of the villains are evil scientists that steal or hunt Pokemon from trainers rather than just catch them in the wild. Because they want to use the stronger pokemon for their experiments.

Pokemon can learn more than 4 moves, they clearly do in the anime. Maybe in the game universe, trainers are only allowed to use 4 of their Pokemon’s moves to prevent cheating or too much injury?

No one has seen a female Marrowack breed or a Cubone lose its mom. So no one knows how Cubone got its mom’s skull and it is illegal to breed them to see what happens because no one wants to intentionally make a baby an orphan.

Kids younger than 10 can start their Pokemon journey, it’s just not encouraged and some might need special permission. In the game, there are a lot of NPCs that are clearly younger than the protagonist and in the anime, we have seen a few kids younger than 10 that while not on their journey, have at least 1 Pokemon.

Mewtwo hasn’t completely forgotten Amber and could remember her one day.