#french cryptid

[lolottes]

it's the moth man

It's the moth man the voice of wisdom and the reasonableness of the group, these two human friends the stress so much that only his brushing by Damien manages to put him to sleep

Youngest adoptee!Danny (Alt ver)

Same concept of finding out ur adopted family isn't normal but different approach:

"Uh... Jason, can you get my screwdriver...?" Danny hesitantly asked the older male as he tinkered about on his new invention. "I— uh... Sorry, I'm a bit preoccupied right now."

Jason looked up from the couch (which was conveniently placed in a second workshop Bruce had specifically for his new ward, since, you know, the kid's by all means just a normal teenager. He doesn't even know their double life.) And shrugged, "sure, kid. Where's it?"

"My room, just on the desk, I think. I used it last night."

"You tinkered with your stuff in your room? At night?"

"...please don't snitch on Mr.Wayne"

"Stop doing that, then."

"*sigh* dully noted.."

Jason languidly made his way to Danny's room, clicking the door lock open. He flicked the lights on to see his brother's room; filled and decorated with stars and all things space. The younger male was definitely better at keeping things clean and tidy, that's for sure. Despite the various small inventions, books, and papers on the desk, his room was definitely tidy in a way.

He peered his eyes to the desk beside Danny's bed to see the very object he was looking for....and knocking it off the moment he wanted to grab it, great.

The thing rolled down the bed, causing Jason to inwardly groan on the fact that now he had to crouch down to reach for the screw driver.

He huffed and looked down to the bed, fully expecting to see the screw driver down there... Only to have his sight blocked by a news article.

He blinked, before squinting his eyes at the piece of paper, trying to read what's inside of it.

'Jason Todd pronounced dead by billionaire play boy Bruce Wayne.'

His eyes snap open as he immediately sat up. "What the hell..." He muttered as he eyed the bed suspiciously.

Jason hauled himself up, before prying the bed out of the frame and flipping it so that it leaned into the wall beside it and—

—"What the fuck?"

Danny thanked Alfred happily as the butler handed him his share of Dinner; it's a full table today, something quite rare within their hectic schedule.

He eats the dinner comfortably as his siblings chatter away... except for Jason who has been staring at him for the past 15 minutes.

"Todd, it's rude to stare." Damian chastised, to his rescue as always.

Jason seems to snap out of whatever trance he was in, before leaning back to his chair.

"You know, don't you?"

As if a pin dropped, the room became suffocatingly silent; everyone's tense from that one sentence alone, while Danny merely blinked in surprise.

"Damn, you saw my conspiracy board, huh?"

[blue-lollipops-and-ice-clouds]

II.

(Source - courtesy the talented Adamrosssi)

+ caption

[doalkaynaksuyu]

me too dazai

[puppetmaster13u]

I am so tempted to draw/write a cryptid batfam. But also star wars crossover.

Cryptid mandalorian batfam. With wings. Idk I think they deserve to go Creachur.

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

Jean-Joseph Carriès (1855-1894) "The Frog with Rabbit Ears" (1891)

[mecthology]

Lou Carcolh from French folklore.

Its gaping mouth was surrounded by several long, hairy, and slime covered tentacles that could extend for miles. These appendages stretched out from the cave it inhabited for a long distance and laid upon the ground among its own viscous slime. They would ensnare and drag back to its anybody anything within reach. It would then swallow the victim whole with its gigantic mouth.

Fortunately, the Carcohl wasn’t a fan of daylight, passing most of its time resting in its underground lair, surfacing only to hunt.

Rumor has it a merchant once dared enter the Carcolh lair and stole some of its eggs. He took such eggs with him when traveling to the New World, but the eggs were lost or stolen before he arrived. Some say that one of those eggs floated all the way to Grenhaven, hatching near the dark hemlock hills that surround the port, explaining some local legends about a giant carnivore snail haunting a section of the forest called Leeds Hop.

The Carcohl hasn’t been seen in more than 50 years, which many think indicates the beast has died. Other, less optimistic, people, prefer to believe the beast is alive but in deep hibernation waiting for a mate.

Follow @mecthology for more legends and lores.

DM for pic credit.

Source: Wikipedia, cryptidzfandom.com, mythicalcreaturescatalogue.com

[mangofanarts]

I constantly think about this clip. It's been rotating on my mind because Antonie sounded so sad/distressed when he thought Bad left and went to look for him. While B, Bad was right there on top of a plant and had to go "I'm right here". Their friendship, your honor Antoine: Oh no Bad is leaving! Bad! Where is Bad? Badboyhalo! Where is Bad? Antoine after finding Bad in a much calmer tone: Oh there you are Bad: I'm right here

[sixminutestoriesblog]

the Red Man of Tuileries

It was late in May of 1871 that a motley group of workers, under the orders of Jules Bergeret, took barrels of pitch, tar and other accelerators and marched up the steps of the Palace of Tuileries. All day long, fighting had raged in front of the grand building as the French army fought the Paris Commune. What had started off as a dream for a better world, or at least a better Paris, only a few short months ago was coming to an end and like hell were the men and women of the Paris Commune going to retreat without burning everything, and everyone, to the ground behind them. Into the beautiful hallways that had once housed royalty and ambassadors from around the world, marched the team of workmen, painting everything with turpentine, petroleum and tar as they swept through, moving from carved room to carved room. In the center dome of the palace, more men laid explosives. It was evening and the growing shadows stretched long and flickering in the approaching darkness of the night. Breaking up into smaller and smaller groups to reach each of the rooms, the workers heard footsteps on the stone floors behind them that moved when they weren't, echoes, dry and dusty that skipped strangely through the hollows of the rooms they roamed through. More than one of them caught glimpses from the corners of their eyes, right on the edge of their vision, the flicker of red cloth, dark as old blood, there and gone in a blink. The evening air was cool and the work had the sweat trickling down their backs but that didn't account for all of the chills that went down their spines. Jobs finished, they tried not to make it obvious how quickly they hurried out of the empty palace, tried not to show too much of their relief when they were once again outside of its walls, surrounded by their companions. The word was given, the first torch laid to beautifully decorated walls. Fire sprang up, as if it had always been there just waiting for this moment and engulfed the once majestic Palace of Tuileries, consuming it as if it were made of paper instead of stone. The fire burned for two days and if anyone saw a red dancing figure of a man watching them from its smoke and flames, they didn't share the story with anyone else. The Paris Commune was dead and its members had other, more immediate problems, like surviving, to deal with. The Red Man of Tuileries had, finally, stood watch over the last tragedy of Tuileries.

But not the first.

The Palace of Tuileries was built in 1564 by Catherine de' Medici, after her husband, Henry II, king of France, died. It was going to be her own personal residence, as a royal widow, and no expense was spared toward her future comfort. This was not to be the case however.

According to some legends, a man she employed named, aptly, either Jean the Skinner or Jean the Flayer, who carried out political assassinations for her found out a bit too much for his employer's comfort and Catherine had her assassin assassinated. When his killer went back into the Tuileries garden to retrieve the body for burial, it was missing however - and the Palace of Tuileries had a new ghost, one that appeared just before each new royal disaster.

In another branch of the same story, the Red Man had never served Catherine at all. When the palace had finally been nearing completion, Catherine, ready to move in and visiting for last minute decisions, had found someone else already living there. A small man, dressed all in red, cloven hooves for feet optional. Catherine wasn't about to share her home with someone like that and she left, never to return.

A civil war between the Protestants and Catholics that burst out and engulfed Paris in 1588 might have had something to do with that as well. Or perhaps it was just the first time the Red Man would reveal his purpose.

No matter where he came from, from that point on, the Red Man of Tuileries would show up just before disasters, glimpsed briefly in the halls of the palace only to disappear when noticed.

The Red Man was spotted in the halls of Tuileries just before Henry IV was assassinated in 1610. Several of Marie Antoinette's ladies were reported to have seen him only days before the August 10th Insurrection in 1792. He was spotted again right before Louis XVI's execution in 1793. The last recorded mention of the Red Man happened only days before the burning of the Tuileries in 1871, when the custodian of the place saw the figure standing in a pose of deep sorrow, not once, but twice in the same night before he vanished.

The Red Man's most talked about appearance however involved Napoleon Bonaparte. Stepping outside of his usual job of being a harbinger of doom, as well as actually leaving Tuileries for the first time, the Red Man apparently appeared to Napoleon three times. The first time was said to be just before the Battle of the Pyramids while France was invading Egypt in 1798. Legends say that the Red Man promised Napoleon ten years of success, later to be buffered by an additional five, but at the end of that time period, Napoleon would never again be successful in military matters. The Red Man was said to have showed up after the Battle of Wagram in 1809 to warn Napoleon against setting foot in Russia. In January of 1814 the Red Man appeared one last time to Napoleon, warning him that his time was running out. That was the last time legend says the Red Man appeared to Napoleon and it was also, shortly afterward, the end of Napoleon's rein.

The Red Man of Napoleon's contract and the Red Man of Tuileries seem to serve very different purposes and so I wonder if the stories surrounding the two became a mesh of two different 'red men with supernatural powers hanging around French leadership'. Rumors said that Napoleon often spoke of a 'red star' he was under that led him to victory. Either way, the Red Man of Tuileries hasn't been seen since the fire that gutted the palace in 1871. Maybe the destruction of the palace finally laid him to rest. Or maybe he's waiting for royalty to return to France so he can again lurk in their hallways, waiting to warn of danger and, perhaps, offer bargains of power to those egotistical enough to accept.

[valy-gc]

Wendigo, bigfoot, Nessie, Mothman, capybara, swamp monsters and other sea serpents... so many badass cryptids around the world!

Meanwhile, our French cryptids...

It have legs shorter on one side to fit the montains... but that also mean it can always go the same way, never turn around or it just fall.

[l-hydrange-holmes]

Andreï Poda

Doctor,

he have a twin brother (a jerk),

he's married to Ivan, half human half deer.

[creaturesncryptids]

La Bête du Gévaudan

[oflgtfol]

∞ !!!!

"hanging 'round, downtown by myself / and i've had too much caffeine, and i was thinkin' about myself / and then there she was in platform double suede / yeah, there she was like disco lemonade"

from sex and candy by marcy playground

so i discovered this song back in like middle school when my mom was forcing me to watch MTV with her and this song came on. and i liked it! i thought it was fun so i added it to my music library. i looked up the lyrics and i saw disco lemonade and yknow in hindsight that's a drink but back then i was what, 11? 12? and i had no idea what the fuck disco lemonade meant so i thought it was absurdist humor and i was yknow, 11, 12, so i was fully in my weird nonsense = height of comedy phase. so i was fully obsessed with disco lemonade. i thought it was a fun phrase that had a nice rhythm to it, it felt nice to say, and the fact it was a nonsense phrase to me just made it all the better. i believe i made my roblox username "DiscoLemonade" or something similar because of it, because back then i changed my roblox username like how some of you people change your tumblr urls. DiscoLemonade was not a very long era of mine but it unfortunately was very much an era

( put a "∞" in my ask box and I'll shuffle my music player and give you my favorite lyric from the song that comes up )

[funkyyylizard]

drawing neuvillette and tryingnto divert from genshin's artstyle is so funny bc i get reminded that yes, he is taking the form of a white, french man. long face and all that jazz

[owlf45]

Owl, your tree spouse is being threatening.

,, don’t,, look too closely

[this-is-my-main-i-follow-from]

Some of my fave Métis folklore creatures:

Rou garou: from the french loup garou, a werewolf that can shapeshift like many cree stories. 

Little men: brownies, fairies, or naiads/water nymphs, (fae) that use leaves as boats.

Whiitegoos: white monsters who eat children at night, from the cree wendigo(ak).