#he's not the kraken he's a different type of sea 'monster'

[little-bloodied-angel]

@carrymelikeimcute This possessed me when I saw the post so here, have

"The sea witch is beautiful, and Israel wasn't expecting that.

Beautiful in an unnerving way, even if he looks mostly like a young man; from the fluidity of his movements to the growths on his body -not barnacles and limpets and other rot like he's seen before on corpses fallen to the depths, but flat slivers of gold blending with soft pale skin in random spots, a band of it winding around his neck catching his attention in particular; pearls of different shapes and sizes and colors edging the contours of his orbital arches, his clavicle, his cheekbones, his shoulders. Long-ago-crushed gems in an iridescent rainbow melded with his eyelids, sanded-smooth coral and diamonds hanging like small drops from his peculiarly long eyelashes. His unnaturally red lips, the color vibrant even in the gloom of the cave; his canny eyes, the swirl of moving colors there, shifting through and from violet to gold to pure green to silver to teal to blue. He's got holes punched through his earlobes, a collection of human earrings dangling there, another rainbow of gems studded into the slightly pointed cartilage of his ears, a teardrop emerald with a chain threaded through his bellybutton. The smattering of freckles across his nose is gold foil, too; he's got dark hair, but when the light hits the hole at the top of the cave, the reflections that come back are copper, red, auburn, gold, even blue; and the soft waves of it look inviting, like those plump red lips do.

Israel has lived in the ocean his whole life; he knows what bright colors tend to mean, and he stays away.

He's not here for the witch. He's here because the witch can help him.

"You sold a pair of human legs to one of the Princes" he says, and it's not a question. The witch widens his eyes and presses a hand to his chest, over the floaty silvery-white silk gauze that moves with him and barely covers anything, making his stacked bracelets clink as he does so, as though he's offended, but his grin gives him away.

"It was much more than a pair of legs" he says, in a drawl like the currents, showing off too-sharp, too-white teeth. "Without human lungs and everything else that goes with, they wouldn't have done him much good, would they?"

He moves towards Israel; his serpent's tail is a dizzying blend of iridescent shades from red to lilac to teal to black, studded in more pearls, some of them as big as half the size of Israel's closed fist. And he moves quick, smooth and sure; he's in front of Israel's face in an eyeblink.

"I want that, too" he says, and his voice does not waver, not even at the spark of red he sees in the witch's eyes.

"You do? Since when have you ever cared that much about the human world or what it has to offer?" he asks, head cocked, grinning coyly. "It's a lot of risk, and very low reward".

Israel's hand flies to the tattoo on his cheek before he thinks of it, as though shielding it from the scrutiny of those eyes, and he knows a second too late that he's given himself away.

"Ah" is all the witch says, an exhale really, and his long fingers reach out to touch but stop short, curling inside his palm one by one. Israel closes his eyes, and feels the water move as the witch swims back to his cauldron.

"Well, when there's a will, there's a way" he says cheerfully, arranging his arms over the edge so he can rest his cheek on one of them. Israel tries to keep his eyes on the collection of bracelets; one is a carved circlet made of jade, with a serpent winding around it; another is silver, decorated with deep blue and green enamel in winding patterns; a third is made of amber and coral twined together, and a fourth of black lacquer and shells of abalone; yet a fifth is a cuff edged in clinking coins, decorated with lapis-lazuli and malachite and agate and letters he cannot recognize. There are more, but the witch snaps his fingers and silently demands to be looked in the face by pointing at it.

"Magic is never free, though. You know that. Your prince paid a hefty price to chase his golden haired dream, and so will you".

"What did you make Edward give you?" he growls, forgetting for an instant how dangerous of a being this is to anger.

"Tut, tut" the witch chastises, clicking his tongue and wagging his pointer finger. For one horrifying moment, Israel thinks that the flesh has been stripped from it raw, before he realizes it was cut off cleanly at the first joint and replaced with an articulate prosthetic that looks to be ivory or porcelain, painted all over with surface-world flowers. He recognizes the spider lilies; Edward showed them to him years and years ago. It looks like at some point, the witch paid a price too. "I didn't make him give me anything. The enchantment asks, and I translate".

Israel has barely opened his mouth before the witch speaks again.

"His spell was his spell. Not him nor I can tell you. But I can tell you this. Regardless of everything else -regardless of the price- the spell you need will demand pain of you. You will drink the potion and become human, yes, but..."

The multicolored liquid swirls in the cauldron and reflects in those eyes. If Israel didn't know better, he'd think the witch is worried, or upset.

He blinks and starts moving his hands over the cauldron, summoning faster swirls and curling smoke in bizarre colors, every once in a while adding an ingredient as he talks that Israel cannot distinguish, making the potion flare bright and loud.

"It will feel like this: a sword will slice your tail in half, and that pain will remain in your legs; red-hot iron will close your gills, a blade will hollow out your chest for your lungs, and with every step you take you will feel a million shards of glass digging into your feet. Every breath and every step will be pain, and there will be no end for it except to gain the heart you seek. And if you don't achieve that by the time the seventh sun three times has set, you will relinquish your own heart" the witch says, looking into the cauldron and not at him until he raises his face, set in harsh lines that seem at odds with his beauty, like broken coral gone sharp and jagged. "Is that something you're willing to agree to?"

Israel feels his own face set too. He's not like the human prince Edward is fascinated with; not pretty and shiny and golden and warm. He is old and weathered, and cold like the deep sea, that he knows; but he also knows the loyalty and devotion of his own heart, the lengths he will go to protect Edward, to love him.

"It is" he says, and his voice doesn't tremble.

"Very well then" the witch says back, and his own voice has become something odd and layered and metallic, as he swims up to the glass bubbles in the upper shelves and starts collecting what they house.

"Red lilies for passion; purple hydrangeas for a will of understanding; poppies for love and death; myosotis as a plea not to be forgotten" he recites, as a shower of petals rains into the pearlescent liquid, pale purple and sky blue and blood red.

"Pomegranate and silk chrysalis for transformation" he goes on; the strange human fruit bleeds under his glinting knife and glinting eyes, and the little balls of thread dissolve.

"And now for sacrifice" says the witch, and once more in an instant he's in front of Israel. One of his earrings, he notices, is not like the others, not a pearl on a hook or a curved horn carved in coral or even a human gold coin. It's a silver dagger, going through a heart carved in a ruby. Israel's own heart aches; Edward had worn a similar one, a gift, not long ago. Another one, he realizes, the oldest-looking one, is a fishing hook made of ivory or bone. He shudders.

"Your enchantment requires three things of you. Something from the past you cherish; something from the present that has been discarded; and the promise of a future sacrifice, sealed with a gift".

There's sorrow in those eyes, Israel is almost certain. Still, he once again looks away, once again says: "Take them".

The witch's hand finds the back of his neck, cradles it, and for one bizarre instant Israel thinks he's going to kiss him, and for one even more bizarre heartbeat he wants him to.

"Something from the past you cherish" the witch says, almost against his lips.

Then those long fingers tear at the chain that holds his ring, snapping it, and the witch's other hand twirls the knife until it's scored a circle around his ring finger, guiding it to bleed over the cauldron where his mother's ring also goes. Israel hasn't noticed their bodies moving, and he almost wants to scream, to cry, but the witch never stops.

"Something from the present that has been discarded" he pronounces, and the hand cradling his head turns into a grip as the witch's knife finds his neck this time, sinking deep and cutting a vertical line down the front of it. The grip disappears, and the witch withdraws a mass of bloodied, stringy red rope from his throat with that hand. He suddenly realizes what it is, as it's thrown into the cauldron too.

His vocal cords. His voice. Discarded, but not by him. A warning of a doomed endeavor, but now he can no more stop this than he can scream his pain.

"And a promise of a future sacrifice, sealed with a gift" the witch finishes, turning the dagger over the light until it glows red and plunging it into Israel's chest, into his heart, now scarred with the price he will pay in three times seven suns.

The reddened dagger stirs the liquid in the cauldron in one direction, and then the witch does the same with the hand that wears the prosthetic, going in the opposite one, the potion glowing enough as to blind as he mutters under his breath.

The potion settles, dark as night with odd twinkles of red, and the witch fills a glass bottle with it that he hands to him, holding his hand in- in his.

Why can't he think of his own name?

"Listen to me carefully, or this will be your death. Swim up to shore before you drink this, or you will drown. Don't kill the man he wants, or his heart will turn to stone. And your name is the gift the spell took; there's power in names. The past person you cherished gave you Israel; the person who discarded your voice gave you Izzy. Unless you win his heart, and reclaim the price you paid, or forfeit yours in turn, you will be neither. But I will give you one gift, so you will not fall into despair. You're far too interesting to just let die in a day" he tells him, too fond for his cruelty. "Your name during this trial, your name that comes from me, is Basilica". The witch presses cold lips to his forehead for an instant, before urging him: "Now go".

Basilica swims out of the cave and up to the surface as fast as he can, tears welling in his eyes. Not one sun has set yet, and he already feels like he's lost everything.

When he breaches the water and heaves himself onto golden sand, he unstoppers the bottle and downs it in one gulp. The sensation is as promised, as described, and the pain twice as brutal, and his heart pounds and his chest heaves as he undergoes an agony he can no longer give voice to, until his heart and his new body give up on him and he collapses.

~~~~~~

Deep, deep down under the sea, in his cave full of trinkets and ingredients, the sea witch watches him through a gently held glass bubble, and his heart aches, as he toys with the silver and emerald ring, clean and bright as new, that he'd retrieved from the bottom of a momentarily empty cauldron. He has always had his reasons for disliking most of the sea princes, and Edward in particular, but this is a step too far.

"I wasn't lying when I said you're too interesting to let die" he murmurs, and his power echoed in the walls agrees with him. "But you're also too cherished, and you don't even know". He sighs, then slides the ring onto a velvet cord ripped from his clothes, then over his head and under the band of gold melded around his neck. "I'm starting to think" he says to no one in particular, swimming upwards again in search of a bubble that houses spider lilies "that it's past my due for a little trip to the human world".

A little mermaid AU where Ed gets legs to go after Stede, but then Izzy rocks up to sea-witch Lucius and ALSO wants legs so he can go after Ed. And Lucius (who is a messy bitch who loves ocean drama and is like 'why is there a fucking run on legs all of a sudden??') agrees, but the price is that, if Ed 'doesn't want Izzy's heart' then he must return to the sea and pledge it to him instead.

Cue Lucius also taking human form to stir shit and talk about how crappy humans are with Izzy, who inevitably fails to get Ed's love for himself.

And Izzy thinks he's going to literally get his heart ripped out or be forced to work for a witch and not just...you know...be gently cherished by a lonely sea-witch who thinks this royal guard is...pretty neat actually.

(Also, tentacle sex).

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

When The World Is Crashing Down [Chapter 8: I Just Need A Stronger Dose]

Series summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra’s wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother’s life. Now you are in the liar of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting…

Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, violence, serious injury, alcoholism/addiction, sexual content (18+), angsttttttttttt!

Both the series and chapter titles are lyrics from: “7 Minutes In Heaven” by Fall Out Boy.

Word count: 5.9k.

Link to chapter list: HERE.

Taglist (more in comments): @tinykryptonitewerewolf @lauraneedstochill @not-a-glad-gladiator @daenysx @babyblue711 @arcielee @at-a-rax-ia @bhanclegane @jvpit3rs @padfooteyes @marvelescvpe @travelingmypassion @darkenchantress @yeahright0h @poohxlove @trifoliumviridi @bloodyflowerrr @fan-goddess @devynsficrecs @flowerpotmage @thelittleswanao3 @seabasscevans @hiraethrhapsody @libroparaiso @echos-muses @st-eve-barnes @chattylurker @lm-txles @vagharnaur @moonlightfoxx @storiumemporium @insabecs @heliosscribbles @beautifulsweetschaos @namelesslosers @partnerincrime0 @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @yawneneytiri @marbles-posts @imsolence @maidmerrymint @backyardfolklore @nimaharchive @anxiousdaemon @under-the-aspen-tree @amiraisgoingthruit @dd122004dd @randomdragonfires @jetblack4real @joliettes

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰💜

“What’s it about?” Aegon purrs in your ear, his ivory-and-red scarred arms circling around your waist, his fingers lacing over the lowest part of your belly, kindling heat and hunger that he draws out of your bones like water from a well, his ring of gold wings and jade eyes glinting in the sunlight that pours in through the library windows.

Smiling, you turn a page in the archaic, dusty book that’s cradled in your arms. It’s not on a subject you’ve ever seen before; of course it would only be here, where the Targaryens once worshiped their own gods and practiced rituals of fire and blood, that the occult would not be torn up and discarded like weeds. “Witchcraft.”

“Witchcraft?!” Aegon feigns being scandalized as he kisses your neck, soft lips and seeking hands. He’s been out in the courtyard sparring with a guard; he smells like salt and wine and rose oil and the ocean. “I do hope you don’t turn out to be an unrepentant sinner. I’d hate to have to burn you.”

“We’d match then.” You turn another page, sketches of different types of sage, dark forbidden recipes that promise to hurt or heal or protect. “I can’t say I am persuaded by the more mystical elements. But there are some interesting insights into herbology, I think.”

“You don’t believe in magic?” Aegon muses, pulling up the skirts of your pale, ashy blue gown, his palms on your bare thighs. His lips curl mischieviously against your throat. “You reside on an island of dragons, in an oppressively gloomy castle built by spellcasters, and you don’t believe in magic?”

“You have it, perhaps,” you say. “Your family. Your house. I don’t believe in it as something that is real to the rest of us.”

“Don’t the Celtigars claim to possess a trumpet that summons a sea monster or something?”

“A horn,” you say, amused. “To wake krakens. And yet as much as my father enjoys boasting about it, he’s in no hurry to prove its efficacy, is he?”

Aegon turns your face to his and kisses you with a fierce, greedy hunger. “You’re magic,” he says as his hands move to loosen the laces of your gown. “You heal people. You bring them back from the dead.”

You’ve forgotten the book entirely. It tumbles out of your grasp. As Aegon tugs off your gown and it falls with a rustle to the stone floor, you reach back to touch him: white-blond hair, scarred cheek, his voice and his heat and his flesh that you need more of. Sunlight and late-summer air, a weakening red-tinged gold, hit your bare skin. Aegon is undressing himself too, and now his shirt and trousers are gone, and now he is leaving euphoric indigo shadows on your neck and shoulders, ghosts of pleasure that will haunt you long after this moment has passed, and now as he stands behind you his fingers find the warm, yearning wetness between your legs and stroke you there, parting folds, plunging between them, retreating just as you feel yourself climbing towards a peak, beginning the divine cycle over again.

“Yes,” you beg, hushed and hidden between the shelves of this ancient library, taboo texts and stories no one else remembers. You push your hips back against Aegon and he inhales sharply, reaching out with one hand to steady himself against the bookshelf as the other teases you, readies you, drives you mad with red ravenous lust. You can feel that he is hard. You can feel your fingers buried in his hair, the rough scar tissue of his chest against your spine, your bodies moving with an easy, harmless rhythm. “Please, Aegon, please, I need you…”

“Do you believe in magic now, wife?” he murmurs, a grin in his voice; and the shock of it drags you into a climax, a whirlpool, a storm, a fever that singes and scalds. He has never called you this before. His wife, his queen.

You cry out as the pleasure pulses through you, as your muscles unravel and your skull is cleared of the knowledge of all the ways in which the world is so irretrievably wrong, as you drink up every drop of Aegon with your eyes, lungs, spiraled fingerprints, the pores of your skin.

“Well, do you?” he asks again. He kisses you forcefully, possessively, biting at your lower lip. “Have I convinced you? Do you believe in magic now?”

And you smile dazedly as you answer: “I believe in you.”

“That will suffice, I suppose.”

He follows you down to the floor. You roll onto your back, pull him between your open thighs, cradle his face with your hands and kiss him deeply as he enters you, fills you, moves blissfully inside you. Long-dormant dust swirls into the air; specks of it float in aisles of sunlight like ships bobbing in the open ocean. The stone floor is cold and unforgiving, Aegon warm and kind. You arch into him, your hips rolling in time with his, your tongue tasting wine on his lips and salt on his flushed cheeks.

“You feel fucking incredible,” Aegon gasps. His braid is tucked behind his ear; you moved it there, or he did, it doesn’t matter, it belongs to both of you. Each time he thrusts, there is an indistinct sort of pleasure—low, muted somehow, like rocks covered by the sea at high tide—that builds, yes, but agonizingly slowly. You know he wants to make you come again. He’s trying to last, he’s battling against himself; but his face is already blood-red and his hands are trembling. He never discusses the pain with you, but it’s still there. He goes to the maesters when he has sunburn to be soothed or wounds to be cleaned and bandaged, he goes to Lord Larys Strong with his fears. He does not want you to think he is weak. He does not want to disappoint you.

You whisper through his mess of silver hair: “It’s alright, Aegon.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes, tiny oceans erased. “No, no, oh fuck, I’m so sorry—”

“I want it,” you insist. Your hips rock more quickly, taking the blame away from him, easing his burdens. “I want you to come, I want you to finish inside me, please, please, I want to feel you dripping out of me tomorrow, I want to remember this, I want you, I want you, I want you—”

Aegon moans, shudders, pours himself into you, a rush of energy and heat, a closeness you never believed was possible for two people to share. His unsteady hands constrict into fists against the stone floor. His teeth close around your collarbone, more violet blooms like the colors of a garden, more tokens of him that you carry around like gemstones. The waves wash over him, and then they recede; the tension evaporates from every scrap of him and Aegon collapses onto the floor beside you.

Skating his thumb along the line of your jaw, marveling at you in the dreamlike haze of the afterglow, he says softly: “We have to talk, Angel.”

Fear settles in the cage of your ribs, a cold heavy thing like the iron dragons that preside over the dark corridors of the castle, ominous leers and bared fangs. “What is it?”

“I don’t know what to do with you.” His words are serene, his murky-blue eyes drowsy; his scarred chest rises and falls with slowing breaths. “When I leave to rejoin the war effort, I don’t know where you should go. I don’t know if you should stay here. I don’t know if I should have Larys try to take you to Storm’s End, or maybe Tarth or Estermont. I don’t know if you should return Claw Isle and wait out the bloodshed with your mother and sisters. I don’t know anything. And I can’t choose wrong. I can’t lose you. I can’t be responsible for your ruin.”

“I think I should stay on Dragonstone,” you say. “As long as you and Aemond are in the Riverlands, you would be able to fly back to see me.” And I might be able to help if Aegon is injured again.

He smirks, sadly, regretfully. “That would be my preference as well. But I fear it’s unwise. What if Daemon or Rhaenyra decide to come back to the island? They’re both far too preoccupied at the moment—Daemon fucking Nettles at Harrenhal, Rhaenyra stomping out rebellions in King’s Landing—but circumstances could change. Even if the Blacks believe you to be my unwilling captive, I don’t trust Daemon to treat you with decency. I don’t trust Rhaenyra’s paranoia to spare you.”

“I want to stay here. It’s our home now. It’s where I belong.” And you nestle into him, tangle up in him, will him to help win the war and then return to you.

Aegon chuckles, kissing your forehead. “Can you believe I was worried about whether this would work?” This: love as something physical, not just words or allegiances, not just something that changes how you see the world like peering through mist or smoke. “You had such a fear of it. Such adamant dread.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“Because I am a sad, weak, floppy little man?”

“No,” you say, smiling. “Because you’re a good man. Even if no one else has ever seen it. I see it all. I see you.”

There is the echoing noise of a door opening, then slow, laborious footsteps. “Your Grace?” Larys says reticently from the other side of the bookshelf.

“Stop,” Aegon orders. “Wait.” He grabs your gown off the floor and helps you into it, then yanks on his own shirt and trousers. “Approach,” he tells his Master of Whisperers.

Larys appears, resting his interwoven hands on the handle of his cane. He bows, tactfully averting his gaze from your wrinkled dress, untidy hair, glistening sheen of shared sweat.

Aegon says: “Your timing is impeccable as always, Lord Larys.”

“My sincerest apologies, Your Grace. You have a guest and I did not want him to…catch you unawares.”

“Ah. And of course I have no idea who that could be.”

The library door opens again; you hear its archaic iron hinges creak. Swift light footsteps cross the room. Aemond breezes into the aisle between bookshelves and stands there, tall and willowy and watchful and with his long hair plaited into a thick silver braid. His clear blue eye shifts between Aegon and you, stoic, betraying nothing. Of course Aegon does not know about Aemond’s proposition. You would never tell him as long as the war wages on. It would be a distraction, a danger, an unnecessary wedge to drive between two people who desperately need each other.

“Back already?” Aegon says. “I’m sure the people of the Riverlands miss you dearly. They’re probably waiting outside with their livestock all in a row just waiting for you to soar by and cook their supper for them.”

Aemond ignores this. He stares at you, then looks back to his brother. “I’m starving from the journey.”

“How fortuitous, we’re famished as well.”

Larys notes helpfully: “The cooks have prepared soft-shelled crabs, seasoned, battered, and fried in oil. They’re ready now.”

“They’ve prepared what?” Aemond asks, nauseated.

“You’ll like the crabs,” Aegon says, and as he walks past Aemond he thumps him roughly on the shoulder. “You’ll see how much I enjoy them and you’ll suddenly want every last one.”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the courtyard, under the next day’s late-afternoon sun, Aegon is sparring with a strapping knight supplied by House Chyttering, one of the noble families you inspired Larys to bring surreptitiously into the Greens’ service. When the king practices like this, his opponents go easy on him. They assail him with halfhearted swings of their blades and feeble shield arms. The goal is not to turn Aegon into a robust warrior; he would need years for that, and he will not go into battle on his feet anyway. He just needs to be strong enough to ride a dragon.

Near where you stand, Lord Larys and Aemond are deep in conversation. Aemond is saying: “It is my understanding that she and Daemon are operating almost entirely independently at this point. Is that consistent with what you’ve heard?”

Larys nods. “When Hugh Hammer and Ulf the White betrayed her side, Rhaenyra lost faith in all the Dragonseeds. She ordered the arrest of Addam Velaryon, but Corlys warned the boy before he could be imprisoned and he escaped on Seasmoke. For protecting his bastard son’s life, Rhaenyra had Corlys thrown in the dungeons. A curious lack of empathy from someone who has so recently lost three sons of her own. The Velaryon fleet has abandoned her. Rhaenyra has offered a substantial reward to anyone who brings Nettles to her, dead or alive, as the girl has been sentenced to death for treason.”

“Treason?” Aemond echoes doubtfully.

“Seducing the so-called queen’s husband.”

“Right,” Aemond says, thoughtful. In the center of the courtyard, Aegon is beating back the Chyttering lad with clumsy (yet determined) strikes of his sword. “What will Daemon do now, I wonder. Has he tired of the girl yet? She is a nobody, unlearned and of ignoble birth. Surely she cannot hold his interest for long, even if she is a dragonrider.”

“Time will reveal all, my prince,” Larys replies. “Perhaps Daemon will abandon Nettles. Perhaps he will defend her against Rhaenyra’s wrath. Perhaps he will send her away to safety.”

This heartens Aemond; it brightens his face like cool ethereal moonlight. “If she leaves, Sheepstealer will no longer be a threat to us. I can meet Daemon in battle. And in a fair fight, Vhagar will annihilate Caraxes.”

“I urge you to proceed cautiously,” Larys says. “You are the Greens’ greatest military asset, you are the prince regent, we need your leadership. If anything was to happen to you…” The Master of Whisperers trails off.

Aemond acts as if he hasn’t heard him. Instead, he unsheathes his sword and announces: “I think my brother needs more of a challenge. Allow me to assess the status of his recovery.” Then he takes a step towards the king.

Your hand juts out and closes around Aemond’s wrist. He blinks down at it, stunned that you have voluntarily touched him, perhaps. It is not an affectionate gesture, but it is a familiar one. You command Aemond, your voice low: “Don’t hurt him.”

“I never do,” Aemond replies, bewildered. Then he goes to meet Aegon in the center of the courtyard. The Chyttering knight retreats as Aemond approaches, twirling his sword effortlessly.

Aegon takes a defensive stance, both hands clutching the hilt of his own weapon. He’s grinning, but you don’t think he’s taking this seriously. He already knows he’s lost. “No great contest. I just have to aim for your left side.”

“Good thing I’ve never trained with my maiming in mind.” Aemond lunges and you yelp, started and fearful; he moves staggeringly quickly, his blade cutting through the air to clang against Aegon’s once, twice, and then the king is knocked to the ground with the point of Aemond’s sword at his throat.

“I yield,” Aegon says from where he’s sprawled on the gravel. “You win. You are superior. You could still easily murder me if you chose to.”

“As long as you are aware of it.” Then Aemond takes his brother’s hand and pulls him to his feet, helping to brush pebbles from Aegon’s light armor.

“I should order you executed,” Aegon jests. “You’ve humiliated me in front of my wife.”

“I’m sure she was already well acquainted with your myriad of failings.”

“They are rather evident,” Aegon admits.

“Hm,” Aemond says to himself. Then he stalks back inside the castle with his silver hair flowing out behind him: to consult books, to plan battles, to console himself with wine, to put on Aegon’s crown and admire himself in a mirror, to brood as he glares at the walls, you aren’t sure.

Aegon slides his sword back into its scabbard and joins you by Lord Larys. When he speaks, his words are smug and anxious and eager and heartbroken. “I think I’m ready to go, Angel.”

“Tomorrow? When Aemond leaves?”

“Tomorrow,” Aegon agrees. He smiles, off-balanced and sad-eyed, as he takes your hands in his. Half of his hair is pulled back from his face, but as always, he is still wearing his tiny braid; right now it is stained with dark gravel dust like soot, like ash. You can feel the chill of his gold dragon ring under your fingertips. “I have to help them win this war, Aemond, Criston, Daeron, Mother. I have to try to stop the end of the world.”

You mean to say something—I understand, I’m proud of you, I love you now and I’ll love you forever—but your voice breaks and you have nothing to offer him.

“I know,” Aegon says gently, cleaning a tear from your cheek with his thumbprint. “Come and walk with me. There’s one last thing I have to make sure I can do.”

On the long stone staircase that leads from the main castle entrance down to the beach, Sunfyre the Golden is waiting for his rider. He makes those alien sounds that unnerve you—clicks, growls, squeals, whistles—but Aegon seems to comprehend them. He rests a palm on his dragon’s gleaming face, just between his reptilian, liquid-metal eyes. Rain is rolling in off the ocean; the sky is thick with dark, low clouds. Cold wind claws at your hair and unfurls in your lungs, proof of the rapidly approaching end of summer. Winter Is Coming, you think, words that you have grown to hate.

“Would you like to go too?” Aegon asks as he prepares to climb up into the dragon’s saddle; and to your surprise, he is only half-joking. “I know Sunfyre won’t hurt you now. He understands what you mean to me.”

“I personally abhor dragons.” And all the destruction that only they can curse the earth with.

Sunfyre snorts; steam rises from his nostrils and he stretches out his wings, pale pink membranes that match your gown. Aegon laughs. “You will have to learn to appreciate them. Your house is the same as mine now. And we owe everything to these beasts.”

“Perhaps I’ll accompany you next time.” But no, you will never ride a dragon; you know that absolutely, unquestioningly.

“I’ll be back in time for supper,” Aegon says. “And then I intend to keep you awake all night with—”

He cuts off like a severed limb. There is a scream in the sky, not of a man but of a dragon: too shrill to be Vhagar, too unfamiliar to be Tessarion, tinny but fierce, hostile, growing louder. The creature zooms by with blinding speed, a blur of pale pearlescent green, the fastest dragon you’ve ever witnessed, small but lethal.

Moondancer. That has to be Baela and Moondancer.

A column of fire bursts from Moondancer’s gaping jaws as she hurtles past Sunfyre, but just a sliver of an instant too late, narrowly missing him; still, the inferno is close enough that you can feel the apocalyptic heat, can see the air wrinkle and warp like the fabric of existence wearing thin. High above the ocean—her shadow like a bruise on slate-colored waves—Moondancer banks and begins to turn back towards where you stand.

“Get inside the castle!” Aegon is roaring at you. You are too terrified to move. “Go, go!”

“Aegon, you can’t fight them alone—!”

“Go!” He gives you a hard, frantic shove. “You get inside the castle and you stay there!” Then as you sprint up the staircase towards the entranceway, he clambers into Sunfyre’s saddle and takes off into the churning, thunderous sky.

You can hear them overhead: shrieking dragons, human shouts, flames crackling and billowing, wings flapping like the sails of a ship. You stagger into Dragonstone screaming for Aemond. Larys rushes to you, the guards materialize like vultures around a corpse, but none of them can help Aegon. Only Aemond can. Only he and Vhagar.

You tear through the castle. You are banging on doors with your open palms, racing up steps, calling for Aemond until your throat is raw and you can taste the coppery sting of blood. Aemond comes running and grips your shoulders to steady you. He is panicked, he is petrified. “What, what is it—?!”

“Baela, Moondancer!”

Aemond understands immediately. He bolts for the castle entranceway, you following close behind him. He does not tell you to remain within the towering, mist-sopped walls of Dragonstone. Perhaps it does not occur to him; perhaps he knows you would not listen.

“Your Grace!” Larys is imploring you. Not my lady, not Lady Celtigar. Your Grace, because Aegon believes I am his queen. “Your Grace, please, I beg you, stay here where it is safe!”

When you and Aemond cross through the doorway and out into the windswept, iron-grey air, you look up to see it just as it happens. Sunfyre and Moondancer are gnarled together like a sailor’s knot, hissing and snapping, drawing blood from each other, clawing and clinging with suicidal rage. Now their wings are little more than shredded ribbons of thin membranous flesh. Now the dragons are plummeting towards the beach. And Aegon is falling, falling, falling from an impossible height, his hands reaching to grab for a rope that doesn’t exist, his legs kicking as if through water. He is crashing to the earth like a bird shot through with an arrow, like an angel whose wings have been sheared off, ripped out by the root, burned away.

You are shrieking his name, but you know this is useless, that you are useless, that nothing you’ve ever learned or practiced can stop this. You and Aemond are racing down to the beach, clutching each other’s arms on the staircase so neither of you trip and stumble off of it. You are dimly aware that there are guards and maesters behind you, and Lord Larys too, and that they are speaking in frenzied phrases that you cannot understand. You and Aemond are united in that. You are both beyond words.

Aegon is on the sand. He isn’t dead; he isn’t even unconscious. He is screaming like he was on the day you met him, when half his skin had been scorched by Meleys’ flames, when he was near death and you were the only reason he lived. Now he is not burned; but his legs are destroyed. They are not just broken. They are shattered, grotesque bulges everywhere, moon-white bone splitting through the skin in two places on his left leg and three on his right. His trousers hang in bloody tatters. Someone is wailing, someone sounds like they have lost their mind. Someone is raking their fingernails against your face until your cheeks are bleeding. Oh, it’s you, it’s you, but you don’t feel real, and neither does this moment, and neither does the knowledge that Aegon will not leave tomorrow to help win the war, may never walk again, may not be alive by midnight. You have dragged men back from the brink of death, countless men, and you have done so with almost supernatural composure; but this is no anonymous doomed soldier. This is Aegon, and he is ruined.

Down at the other end of the beach, Sunfyre is tearing out Moondancer’s throat with his teeth, loosing a vicious subterranean snarl. From the surf, a seemingly uninjured Baela emerges, coughing seawater from her lungs and reeling on her hands and knees. Larys is instructing someone to take her to the castle dungeons. The maesters and guards are swarming around their fallen king and trying to decide how to move him without damaging his legs further. Aegon, meanwhile, is reaching for his brother.

“Aemond—”

“I’m here. I’m right here.” Aemond drops to his knees and tenderly sweeps Aegon’s shaggy silver hair out of his eyes. “We’re going to get you inside and the maesters will set your legs. You’re going to be alright. We’re going to help you.”

Aegon howls, tears flooding down his face. He snaps at Aemond as he grabs his hand and squeezes it: “When the fuck is it going to be your turn to get hurt?!”

“It will happen eventually, I’m sure,” Aemond replies grimly. Then he glances up at you. You have to free yourself from this shock, this horror. You have to help Aegon.

You kneel down in wet, bloodied sand and begin to examine him. In a trembling voice, you tell Larys and the maesters and the guards how he must be carried—feet-first when going up the staircase, lessening the strain of gravity on his legs—and that the wounds must be painstakingly cleaned before the fractures are set to prevent infection. You try to say more, but you can’t. Your gaze lands on Aegon’s agonized face and is trapped there, a mutual recognition of the death of one future and the bleak, torturous nightfall of another.

Why couldn’t I stop this? I love him, I love him, why can’t I stop him from suffering?

Aegon looks to Aemond and says something in High Valyrian, something halting and with immense effort. Whatever Aegon asks for, Aemond is momentarily taken aback by it. Then he nods, understanding. And when the guards lift Aegon—Larys and the maesters supervising, the king shrieking until the pain knocks him unconscious—Aemond links his arms around you and stops you from following them up the jagged stone staircase.

“No! Let me go, let me go!” You fight him, and you don’t just fight, you screech and claw and strike at him, you scratch at his face until you rip his eyepatch away and Aemond’s glittering sapphire shines in the fading light. Raindrops are beginning to fall. You’re crying; tears fill your eyes until your sight is hopelessly obscured, until the world is nothing but a grey like smoke, ashes, storms.

Aemond is murmuring to you patiently: “Shh. Stop, stop. Please don’t fight me. He doesn’t want you to see him like this.”

“Aemond, let me go!”

“He doesn’t want you to think of him as someone helpless, someone weak—”

“You did this!” you scream into Aemond as he entombs you in his arms, unbreakable like steel. Your fists drum futilely against his chest. “You started this war, you murdered Luke, you started it and it’s going to kill Aegon, you did this, you did this, it’s going to kill him and it’s all your fucking fault!”

“I know,” Aemond whispers, lips to your ear, his heartbeat thudding against yours. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s going to kill him,” you moan, sobs ripping through you; and at some point you stop fighting Aemond and begin holding onto him, not because what you’ve said isn’t true but because he understands, and because he’s the only person you have left who can.

I want Autumn, you think powerlessly, miserably. And I want her child to have another chance at life. I want Everett. I want Alicent and Jaehaera. I want Helaena and Maelor and Jaehaerys and Otto. I want wisdom, guidance, innocence, hope. I want the future and I want the past.

“I can end this war,” Aemond swears to you as the full moon rises and the waves crash against the shore. “I can make things right again. I can end it. I can win.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It is hours later when Aemond allows you into the room, illuminated by flickering candles and ghostly moonlight. Aegon lies unconscious in the same bed where he made love to you for the first time, where he might never again, where he showed you that there is something besides fear and pain and surrender to be found in marriage.

His legs have been set as well as they can be, bandaged, elevated. You would have done nothing differently if it had been you to tend him in place of the maesters: Jasper from House Hardy, Lothair of House Stokeworth, men you have taught everything you know to just as they shared their expertise with you. Aegon has been given as much milk of the poppy as his body can endure without his heartbeat slowing until it stops. You sit on the edge of the bed and untie his braid, weave a new one, undo it again, knit and unknit glistening silver strands like the strings of a spider’s web. You can’t imagine what will happen next. You don’t want to.

When Aegon stirs, you clasp his hand, letting him know that you’re here. His dragon ring is missing, you notice; no gold wings, no jade eyes. It must have slipped off when he tumbled from the sky. And you remember what Aegon told you about his dreams of Helaena, about the warning she imparted to him, her ghost or her memory or something else wearing her face: Don’t fall, don’t fall.

“I’m sorry, Angel.” His voice is hoarse and whisper-thin. He’s trying to smile but can’t quite manage it. “I wanted to be strong enough. I wanted to start over with you.”

Start over how, Aegon? In peacetime? As a dynasty? With retribution or forgiveness? With children? “You will. You still can.”

“I knew I’d disappoint you.”

“Aegon, I’m not disappointed,” you say, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I just want to help you. I want to take care of you. I love you.”

But he blacks out again before he can give you his familiar refrain, something in High Valyrian that he doesn’t know Aemond has provided you with the translation of. To your misfortune. And is Aegon wrong when he says this? Is he really?

You drift into a fitful sleep beside Aegon, wake up only a few hours later with sore, damp eyes, make sure he’s still breathing. It’s raining heavily now; sheets of it patter against the windows and thunder quakes the castle. You rise from the bed and walk without knowing where you’re going. When you find yourself sitting on a stone bench in the gardens, drenched with rain and freckled with fiery torchlight from the mouth of an iron dragon, you don’t remember how you got there. You are cold and shivering; you are so profoundly, numbly despondent that you cannot move, cannot think, can only sit with your arms curled around your bent knees and your eyes vacant.

By the time Aemond finds you, your dusky pink gown—stained with splotches of Aegon’s blood—is soaked through. Aemond lurks just inside the doorway of the castle that opens into the gardens, sheltered from the storm. “Why are you sitting in the rain?”

You do not answer. You cannot answer. You stare blankly out into the night as droplets pelt you, stinging your skin like needles.

“You should come inside,” Aemond tells you. “You’ll get pneumonia.”

Nothing he says matters. Will going inside cure Aegon? Will catching pneumonia rob you of any life worth living?

Aemond sighs and strides out into the rain to meet you. “I have to go back to the Riverlands now. Will you be alright here?”

Your words are a question, but your tone isn’t. You speak bitterly and without looking at him. “Why would you care.”

“I care intensely,” Aemond says, kindly now. “If you don’t know why, you haven’t been listening.”

“You don’t want me. You just want to feel like you’re better than him. That you’re worthy of being chosen, worthy of fathering the heir.”

He shrugs. “Nothing in life is without ambition. Love is never entirely selfless.”

“Mine is.”

“No,” Aemond says severely. “No, you want things for yourself. You want a choice in who you marry. You want to escape the burden of bedding someone dull or repugnant or cruel. What makes you think you’re so high above the fate that the rest of us have suffered? Do you have any idea how desperately few people get to marry for love? But you can’t endure that resignation. You have to covet something more. Even if it gets you killed.”

Have suffered, Aemond said. Not will suffer. Have suffered. At last, you turn to him. “You’ve never had a wife. When were you ever forced to lie with someone?”

He stares at you and does not answer, cold rain dripping from his face, a vulnerable childlike apprehension in his lone blue eye.

Then you remember: the madam at the brothel, Aemond’s aversion to her unmistakable familiarity. What had he said when he apologized for leaving you there? It is a place that I associate with great unpleasantness. “At the brothel,” you realize. “The Pink Pearl.”

“Yes,” Aemond says, very quietly.

“How old were you?”

“Barely thirteen.”

He was a boy, you think, horrified. Not a man. Just a boy. “Who took you there?”

“Who do you think?”

There is only one true possibility. Aegon, just a few years older and already corrupted in every sense of the word, drunk and miserable and lustful and lost.

“He thought he was doing me a kindness,” Aemond says. “He didn’t intend for there to be any harm, I’m sure of it. But that doesn’t mean no harm occurred.”

“That should never have happened to you. I’m sorry.”

“A lot of things should never have happened.” Aemond’s hair hangs in long, disheveled waves. Now his clothes are sodden with rain too, not a pale pink like exposed organs or half-healed burns but a verdant, jealous green. “I can’t leave until you come inside out of the rain.”

It doesn’t matter where I am. I can’t save anyone, I can’t stop the world from crashing down. “If he’s dead I want to be too.”

“He’s not dying,” Aemond insists. “He won’t be able to fight, but he will live.”

He won’t, you think, lifeless words that are cold and grey like tombstones. The suffering is too great. The trauma is too dire. It stacks up like blood-red coins in his liver, his heart, his lungs, his kidneys. And eventually the scales will tip, and it will kill him, and I’ll have to watch it happen.

Aemond offers you his hand. “Let me walk you back inside.”

“Please leave me.”

“I can’t,” Aemond replies, distressed.

You are weeping now; your own words choke you. “I want to stay here.”

“No you don’t. The pain just feels so heavy you can’t find your way out from under it.”

He is still holding out a hand to you. At last, you take it. And you make a confession, dark, venomous, unfamiliar like the voice of a stranger. “I used to believe war was hell for everyone. I used to want the suffering to end. But I don’t think I do anymore. I think I want the Blacks to suffer greatly. I want them to suffer more than they ever knew was possible.”

And in the maelstrom of the driving rain, Aemond grins until his teeth look like fangs in the shifting, rageful, rust-and-blood glow of the firelight.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Okay guess who fucked around and found a new AU?

ME!

It’s pretty similar to the Kraken Lucifer x Sailor Adam AU but still different

Merman Lucifer x Sailor Adam AU

Lucifer is the prince of the Seven Seas. And he and his brother sneak out to see the humans their family talked about so much. (They are kids btw)

That was when he saw kid Adam. And when Adam saw them.

Michael was ready to keep this as a secret and never go to the surface but Lucifer truly was curious about humans. So this time he goes alone and does something no merpeople dares to do.

He goes to the land.

And meets with Adam.

They are both scared at first, hiding behind two rocks, but then Adam pushes a shiny rock infront of him with a stick.

They become friends.

But one day Lucifer’s dad realizes what he did and rushes to the surface. He was panicked and scared this human did something to his son, so he absentmindedly shot a spell on him, causing him to lose his left eye.

Then he takes Lucifer to the deep, forbidding him from going to the surface ever again.

Now to the grown Lucifer and Adam.

Adam is a captain. He doesn’t trust sea monsters even a little bit.

Until…

Adam’s ship sink in a mission, and Adam goes near drowning. But Lucifer sees him, and without thinking, he saves him by pushing air to his lungs by kissing him.

What he didn’t notice was that the scar on his tongue was still bleeding. And Adam swallowed it.

-A little rule of this universe, if a human drinks merpeople blood, they also become one of them. But not the same as the born ones, more low in status.-

You can see where I’m getting at right :]?

Anyway.

When Lucifer was taking him to the surface, he notices two things:

1: This was the same human, Adam from his childhood. This makes him even happier that he saved him, thinking maybe he’d forgive him now.

2: Something was odd about Adam.

Ooooou!! So it's sort of like the Little Mermaid only without all the no voice nonsense lol

I LOVE THIS!! 💗

Oh Adam is gonna be feeling some type of way when he wakes up.

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 31

Hey it's him again!

The rest of the party has been name-dropped. The leader is Kabru, the gnome is Holm, the dwarf is Daya, and the half-foot is Mikbell.

The chapter opens with "A little earlier". I'm going to guess that this chapter starts on the same morning as chapter 23, but I'm willing to consider it takes place as early as somewhere between chapters 20 and 22.

Roughly five days passed between chapters 15 and 30 (The party fights a kraken on day 1, they are delayed a day by the undine on day 2, spend two days reaching the dragon, then defeat the dragon and are attacked by the magician on day 5).

Unless Mr Tansu's teleport spell is two-way, I don't think he would make it all the way back to the fourth floor in the three days since he and Laios's party parted ways. In that case, he probably would have found annd resurrected Kabru's party before returning to the surface. But if it does work both ways, then he could have made his report in chapter 22 and then jumped right back to where he left off in the dungeon.

Kaka said Namari has a thing for long legs. I bet she was taking a gander at Kabru.

They're all illusions so it doesn't count, but I wonder if there are different types of fishmen for different types of fish.

If Laios's party got caught in this situation, I think Laios would have figured out what was going on as well, but in a completely different way. Kabru realized what was happening because he noticed his teammate's behaviours in the fishmen. Laios probably would notice that fishmen are ambush predators and would never purposely engage in direct combat nor use waterwalk.

No idea how he'd stop Marcille from blowing everyone up, but it wouldn't be the way Kabru dealt with Rin.

The worst part about how those corpse-retrievers operate isn't that they will actively set adventurers up to die, but that they would so casually admit to it and offer a bribe. Those guys have gotten away with doing this several times and they've managed to either get adventurers to go along with their deals or maybe found ways to dispose of adventurers so that they are never found.

As soon as I saw how Kabru fights, I thought "This guy is a trained assassin. What's he doing hunting monsters?"

After learning that the lunatic magician was misgendered in the translation, I've been checking every androgynous character to make sure I have them right. And Mikbell is also misgendered in the translation.

What's the process into becoming a ghost? I guess normally, the soul leaves the body when the body is no longer fit to contain it (the person dies) but through certain magic or curses, the soul can linger and become a ghost.

But because of the magic in the dungeon, the soul is forced to remain in the body even after the body has long-ceased to be functional. Kabru's party and Falin don't know anything that happened while they were dead, so their souls aren't floating around taking in the sites or anything. The soul probably only knows whatever feedback the body can give it, and while they're dead, the body gives them no feedback so death is probably just a featureless nothing until the body is completely destroyed.

That was grimmer than I intended. I was just wondering if those corpse-finders might come back as ghosts since Kabru had their bodies dumped in the water.

So the takeaway I have about Kabru's party is they're the wannabe heroes of the story. They're not exploring the dungeon for wealth or fame. And they don't want to beat the magician for the power and glory but because they want to protect the land from the threat of the dungeon.

That person has the same skin and hair colour as Kabru. He's speaking from experience when talking about monsters coming out of dungeons and overrunning villages.

This chapter is called "Sea Serpent, Part 1" but there wasn't a single sea serpent at all. Just a whole bunch of snakes.

back

[otwdfanfic]

Was watching one of the pirates of the caribbean movies and got to wondering, do the sea faring folks in the otwd saga got any myths and legends about the sea? Like things they're deadly afraid of or spirits they think are dwelling the waters?

(Very specific ask but i got curious LMAO <333)

I've definitely thought about different myths and superstitions since so many of our characters are sailors! Their #1 legendary sea monster is the sea serpent Jormungand, since he's basically their version of Godzilla and his arrival would be a sign of Ragnarok. Krakens are another great monster to be feared. Those are both pretty practical fears, since other giant monsters exist in their world, but they also fear (and adore) sirens, just like any good sailor aught to. They believe they're the daughters of Aegir and Ran, two sea gods who love to drown sailors. Njord is a friendlier sea god favored by fishermen, and Thor controls the weather. There's different rituals that can be done to appease those gods.

Shooting at seabirds like albatross and cormorants is unlucky, as is killing a white whale (since they can speak norse and curse you!). Bloodying the bow of a new boat before it's put in the water is good luck. Magic is usually considered unlucky in general for vikings because it's sly, tricky, and unmanly as opposed to brute strength, but they separate magic up into a lot of different types (religious rituals for example aren't magic, divination magic is fine for women, runic good luck charms are fine) so there's a lot of nuance but black magic/curses are a big No across the board. Ghosts of all kinds (ghost ships, ghost crews, drowned sailors, evil spirits) are popular stories.

Not everyone is very superstitious or believes in everything mentioned here, and there's some differences in beliefs between sailors, fishermen and raiders. Gustav certainly doesn't believe in most of it because he thinks dragons are behind all the legends. Ragnall on the other hand is a highly superstitious sailor (probably because his tribe the Thunderheads are even more sea-focused than most vikings) and his use of magic charms to protect himself is controversial with the crew.

Sorry it took me so long to respond! I LOVE pirates of the caribbean and now I want to rewatch those movies...

[my-romance-library]

'Monstrous Matches' series - Lillian Lark

Stalked by the Kraken (#1)

A matchmaking witch, an ancient sea creature, and the sex contract they make.

The Witch

Celibacy is a bad look for a matchmaker.

Especially a matchmaker who works at the kind of paranormal bathhouse that would have grandmothers clutching their pearls.

A worse look is a matchmaker experiencing a crisis of confidence.

I am that matchmaker.

We need raw magic, desperately.

And now a mysterious man walks into my office, offering me the exact solution I need.

The problem is that he wants to be matched… with me.

Matching doesn’t work for me; I found that out the hard way.

The Kraken

I saw her and the creature inside me wanted.

She doesn’t want a relationship. She says that the most we can have are the three nights she promised me, but the dark part of myself isn’t going to let the woman who snared its attention go.

I found her. I hunted her. She’s mine.

“But… you don’t want to read our compatibility?” he asks.

I snort. “I’m curious, but it doesn’t matter. I claim you with what I know and the feelings I have for you.”

“Because I’m your perfect match,” he says the words with such forceful aggression I can only smile.

My perfect match. The term had been a sore spot, but now it echoes through me with a beautiful resonance. “You’re the match I choose, and that makes it perfect.”

//

Ensnared by the Werewolf #2.5

Belinda loves curse breaking. When a man shows up at her shop asking for help, she’s delighted to assist.

Who wouldn’t help their fated mate after all?

Things go from bad to worse and now she’s left on the rebound. Perhaps riding the local lake monster through his heat will be enough to patch up her wounded soul and get her life out of the rut it’s fallen in.

Getting lost in the woods on the way to her date was not a part of the plan.

What also isn’t a part of the plan? Belinda has unfinished business coming for her with an entirely different type of rut in mind.

Can she outrun what hunts her? Does she want to?

Ensnared by the Werewolf takes place in the same world and night as Found by the Lake Monster and includes chasing, knotting, and breeding.

//novella, rejected mate, second chance

[thewapolls]

Oh boy let's get some more of these fish folk out of the way today

The DEEPONES of Lovecraftian lore. Chiefly featured in the Shadow of Innsmouth, they are also referenced in the short story, Dagon, which itself takes the name of a Mesopotamian deity associated with fish, commonly conflated with...

OANNES is a figure of Mesopotamian mythology considered to be the earliest mythological account of a merman/maid like figure. He is described as having the face of both fish and man, body of fish, but legs of a man, and is often depicted as basically just a guy wearing a fish as a hood. It's a shame this cool hermitcrab-man design didn't stick around.

GILLMORE feels like it should be referencing the "Gill-man" from the Creature from the Black Lagoon and its sequels, but the phonetics seem to have dodged that... Instead we have what is verymuch the Japanese approximation of the name Gilmour/Gilmore. Eventually it just ends up a fish, which is disappointing.

GILLSERPENT is weird.... it only appears in WA2 and you'd think might be some offshoot of GILLMORE, but then they go back to GILLMORE later anyway... Also why is it colored very specifically to look like an orca??

MAD ANGLER is actually a reference to another obscure Mobile Suit Gundam ship, a Zeon forces submarine. Like GILLMORE, I'm pretty disappointed that we lost a cool fishman design to just an octopus...

CUTTLEFISH is just a cuttlefish. And I've no idea what is up with SKIDLANCER. Was it supposed to be SQUID LANCER? In any case neither ever show up again and appear unrelated to any later squid/octopus related monsters despite being the first in the franchise. They aren't even related to the KRAKEN, which dodges being remotely tentacled at all, but we'll get to that later...

BALLOT FISH was a misromanization of BULLET FISH. HORNED HELM is exactly as it appears. These two don't make it out of WA1 but the single horn on a giant fish seems like the obvious origin point for the later model, even if they never share any names.

RAHAB is a Hebrew term used for a number of different things, but the one most obviously associated here being one used to identify a sea monster. There's actually not a whole lot of canonical detail to get into so it's sort of vague.

TRIFINDRAKE is a weird one that comes out of left field. It doesn't appear to reference anything at all. So I guess it should just be taken as a literal descriptor of a Drake with 3 fins? Feels really random for how specific a lot of WA monsters tend to be, but then I guess BULLETFISH and SKIDLANCER are in here too...

SEABISHOP showed up in the boss tournament polls but they're exactly what they say on the tin; a thing from the sea with a pointed head like a bishop's hat.

DORADO is just the Spanish word for "gold" and is the name of two different types of fish popular in sport fishing. Given the prevalence of one of the other in Japanese pop culture, I'm just gonna assume this is referencing the Salminus brasiliensis.

OMEN FISH seems pretty vague, but could be a reference to the giant Oar Fish? In Japan and a few other coastal Pacific countries they're known to be bad omens, as they often swim to the surface, outside of their deep sea habitat, when disturbed by deep sea tremors, making their flight into shallow water a sign of coming earthquakes. But sadly, while actual Oar Fish are super cool looking --they're mythologically considered emissaries of the dragon palace, said to be on the ocean floor-- the monster design is just a fish.

horrendously localized as ICHTYOTIGER the Japanese is clearly an approximation of ICHTHYOSTEGA, a tetrapod dating back to the Late Devonian period, showing some of the earliest evolutionary developments from fish toward legged amphibians.

[sunshinewrit-ing]

Norse Mythology

ig: @sunshine.writing

As with every culture, there are many different interpretations and I tried my best to use the most popular ones. There are also many different versions and spellings for the names of the gods and goddesses, but I used the anglicized and most popular spellings. 

Aesir and Vanir

The Norse gods are divided into two families, the Aesir family, and the Vanir family. The Aesir family is the larger of the two and is mostly connected with war and government and includes the gods Odin, Thor, Loki, Baldr, Hodr, Heimdall, and Tyr. The Vanir family includes the fertility gods and goddesses such as Njord, Feyr, and Freyja. Both families reside in Asgard but don’t see eye-to-eye as shown through the Aesir-Vanir war. 

Besides the Aesir and Vanir, there are also female deities known as Disir, Alfar (elves), Jotnar (giants), and Dvergar (dwarves).

Aesir Gods and Goddesses

Odin - Odin was the King of the Aesir clan and known as “the father of all gods.” He’s depicted as a one-eyed, bearded old man wearing a hat and a cloak. He was said to have slain the first being known as Ymir before carving up his body to help create the Earth. He was one of the most powerful and revered of the gods and associated with wisdom, knowledge, healing, death, and war. He also ruled over Valhalla. 

Thor - Son of Odin, he was regarded as the strongest of all the Norse deities because he was tasked with safeguarding Asgard. He was the most popular of all the gods and worshipped by most Vikings. He was the god of thunder and lightning and wielded the Mjolnir. He rode a chariot drawn by two massive goats called Tanngnjostr and Tanngrisnir.

Loki - Loki was considered a “blood brother” of Odin. He was known as the trickster god and was equipped with the ability to shapeshift into different forms. He was the chief engineer behind the death of Balder.

Frigg - Frigg was the wife of Odin and the queen of the Aesir gods. She was the only one allowed to sit next to her husband and always stuck by her partner even though he had many extramarital affairs.  She was worshipped as the goddess of the sky and associated with wisdom, marriage, family, and fertility. She was blessed with the power of divination but never revealed her visions to anyone. 

Baldur - Son of Odin and half-brother to Thor, Baldur was the god of light and purity. He was described as fair, kind, and handsome, whose beauty was unparalleled. He was the epitome of all things wise and good and often praised for his mercifulness. Also thought to be immortal, he had been prophesied to die and was slain by an arrow made out of mistletoe, his death orchestrated by Loki. 

Heimdall - Heimdall is the son of Odin and no less than nine mothers, and is the watchman of the god. He dwelt at the entry to Asgard where he guarded Bifrost. 

Tyr - Tyr is the god of War and the Lawgiver of the gods. The bravest of the gods, he makes the binding of Fenrir possible by sacrificing his right hand. He’s the son of Odin and the son of the giant Hymir.

Idun - Idun is the goddess of spring or rejuvenation and is the wife of Bragi. She was the keeper of the magic apples of immortality which the gods must eat to preserve their youth. 

Bragi - Bragi is the skaldic poet of the Aesir and his name means “poet”. He’s the son of Odin and possibly the giantess Gunnlod, and the husband to Idun. 

Vili and Ve - Vili and Ve are the two brothers of Odin who helped to slay Ymir to create the remaining seven realms. They’re the sons of Bestla and Borr and were raised in the realm of Nifelheim. 

Forseti - He’s the son of Baldr and Nanna, and is the god of justice and reconciliation.

Gefjun - She’s the goddess of agriculture, fertility, abundance, and prosperity. Her name can be translated to “Giver” or “Generous One.”

Sif - Sif is the wife of Thor as well as a giantess and the goddess of grain and fertility. She was one of the Asynjur and mother of Ullr.

Fjorgynn and Fjorgyn - Fjorgyn, also known as Jord, is a giantess and the mother of Thor through an affair with Odin. Her masculine form Fjorgynn is the father of the goddess Frigg, the wife of Odin. 

Sol and Mani - Sol and Mani were the beings who drove the sun and the moon in their courses through the sun. They were sister and brother, and both were fair and beautiful. Sol had to travel at great speed, pursued by a wolf named Skoll who would eventually devour her. Mani kidnapped two humans named Bil (waning) and Hjuki (waxing), children of Vidfinn, and forced them to travel with him. Like his sister, he was also being chased by a hound named Hati Hrodvitnisson. 

Ullr - Ullr is the god of sports, particularly archery and skiing. He’s the son of Sif and Egill and step-son to Thor. 

Hoenir - Hoenir is a warrior god and is the travel companion of Odin and Loki. He was also part of the creation of Ask and Embla. He goes with Mimir to the Vanir as a hostage in order to seal a truce to the Aesir-Vanir War. He’s the god of indecision, avoidance, and mystery. 

Vidar - Son of Odin and Gridr, he was known as Vidar the silent, the possessor of the iron shoe, the enemy and slayer of Fenrir, the avenger, and he who inhabits the homestead of his father. He’s a warrior god and an excellent fighter. 

Hodr - Hodr is the blind god of winter and warriors. Oftentimes he’s depicted with a bow and arrows, or the spear that Loki used to trick him. He was the son of Frigg and Odin and twin brother of Baldr. Sometimes he’s thought to be a god of darkness.

Vali - Son of Odin and the giantess Rindr, Vali was born for the sole purpose of avenging Baldr. He kills Hodr and binds Loki with the entrails of his son Narfi. He’s the god of vengeance.

Vanir Gods and Goddesses

Freya - Freya was the goddess of fate, love, beauty, gold, war, and fertility. She ruled over the meadow of Folkvangr and owned a torc or necklace known as the Brisingamen as well as a cloak made of falcon feathers. She rode a chariot drawn by two cats and was accompanied by a board called Hildisvini most of the time. She practiced Seidr, which is a form of magic that allowed her the ability to control and manipulate the desires and prosperity of others. 

Freyr - Freyr is associated with sacral kingship, virility, peace, prosperity, sunshine and fair weather, and good harvest. He’s the son of Njord and the god of fertility, rain, and sunshine. His twin sister is Freyja.

Freyja - Freyja, twin sister and counterpart of Freyr, was the goddess of love, fertility, battle, and death. Her father was Njord. Pigs were sacred to her, and she rode a boar with golden bristles. 

Njord - Njord is the god of seas, wealth, wind, and fishing. He was the father of Freyr and Freyja. 

Nerthus - Nerthus is a goddess associated with fertility. She was also associated with peace and prosperity. She was the wife and sister of Njord and the mother of Freyr and Freyja.

Gullveig - Gullveig is a sorceress and seer with great love and lust for gold. She was speared by the Aesir, burnt three times, and yet thrice reborn.

Odr - Odr is the husband of Freyja

Norse Creatures

Dwarves - Also known as dark elves, they’re small creatures that originated as maggots from the corpse of Ymir. They live underground in Svartalfheim (literally means “home of the black elves”) and are said to have crafted the finest weapons and jewelry such as Mjollnir and Gungnir. In certain myths, they’re portrayed as turning to stone if exposed to sunlight. 

Draugar - The Draugar are the undead. Some myths describe them as creatures who drink blood, they’re more similar to zombies than vampires. They possess superhuman strength and can increase their size at will, but have a constant stench of decay and appear as a dead body. They often live in their graves to defend the treasure they were buried with but can also enter communities to torment those who wronged them in life. They’re said to be able to enter the dreams of the living to torment them, and would leave behind a gift so the victims knew the encounter was real. 

Elves - Elves are separated into two different types; Dokkalfar, or dark elves, and Ljosalfar, light elves. Dark elves are thought to be the same as dwarves and light elves are described as more beautiful than the sun. They’re generally described as having an ambivalent relationship with humans.

Fenrir - Fenrir was the son of Loki and the giantess Angroboda. He was raised by the gods of Asgard to stop him from wreaking havoc across the nine worlds but the gods ended up deciding to chain him up. It’s believed that when Fenrir breaks his chains to get his revenge, it will lead to Ragnarok, the end of the world. 

Fossegrimen - Also known as the grim, he’s a water spirit who plays the fiddle mimicking the sounds of the forest, wind, and water. He can be bribed to teach his skill with an offering that he deems sufficient. He’s also known to lure women and children to lakes and streams where they drown.

Huldra - Wardens of the forest and part of a group of Ra that protects various locations. Female Huldra are described as beautiful and seductive, with a long tail of a cow and their back covered in bark. They can disguise themselves as young women to walk in the world of men but their power of illusion is broken if someone sees their tail. They lure young, unmarried men into the forest and keep them as slaves, lovers, or sometimes they’ll suck the life out of them. 

Jormungandr - Also known as the Midgard Serpent, Jormungandr is another child of Loki and Angrboda. He is a snake or dragon that lives in the sea surrounding Midgard. He is described as an enemy of Thor and during Ragnarok, the two are fated to slay one another. 

Jotnar - Jotnar, meaning “devourers”, are giants with powers that rival the power of the gods. They’re the enemy of the gods and the Jotnar embody chaos. Many of the Asgardian gods are descended from Jotnar such as Odin and Thor. 

Kraken - Aquatic monsters that are believed to live off the shores of Norway and Greenland. They’re depicted as gigantic octopi or squids. They mostly ate fish but when it rose to the surface, it was believed to cause large whirlpools which would help it attack ships.

Valkyries - The female helping spirits of Odin, depicted as elegant maidens who ferry the slain to Valhalla. Their name means “choosers of the Slain”, which hints at their more sinister side, the fact that they also choose who lives and dies in battle. They would sometimes use malicious magic to ensure their preferences.

Sleipnir - Odin’s mighty eight-legged horse is the child of Loki and Svadilfari. It had eight legs so that it could have one leg in each of the Norse worlds. 

Mare - The Mare monster gave people bad dreams at night by sitting on them in their sleep. Often they were witches whose souls took the forms of animals, but normal people, particularly adolescents, were also thought to become Mare when their spirits wandered. It was believed that when the Mare touched a living thing, people, cattle, or trees, it would cause their hair to become entangled. 

Trolls - There are large ugly trolls that dwell in forests and mountains, and small gnome-like trolls that live underground in deep caves and caverns. They’re depicted as not very intelligent and malevolent but can show kindness in exchange for a favor.

Norns - The three principal Norns served as the caretakers of the tree of life, but their care only slowed the death of the tree. 

Ratatoskr - A squirrel that runs up and down the tree of life delivering the messages of the gods. He enjoys stirring trouble between the wise eagle that sits atop the tree and the hungry dragon that swells in its roots. 

The Nine Realms

Yggdrasil - Yggdrasil is the mighty tree whose trunk rises at the geographical center of the Norse spiritual cosmos. It’s believed that the nine worlds are all held in the branches and roots of the tree of Yggdrasil. It’s commonly said to be an ash tree.

Niflheim - The realm of fog and mist. It’s the darkest and coldest region of all the realms. It’s one of the first two realms and is placed in the northern region of Ginnngagap. Hvergelmir is located in Niflheim, which is said to be the source of the elven rivers. As Yggdrasil started to grow, it stretched one of its large roots far into Niflheim to draw water from Hvergelmir. 

Muspelheim - The land of fire. Muspelheim was created at the same time as Niflheim but was created far to the south. It’s a burning hot place filled with lava, flames, sparks, and soot. It’s the home of the fire giants, fire demons, and is ruled by Surtr.

Asgard - Home of the Gods. The most commonly known realm, Asgard is located in the middle of the world, high up in the sky. It’s the home of the gods and goddesses and is ruled by the chief of Aesir Odin. Inside the gates of Asgard is Valhalla, the place where half who die in battle will go for the afterlife and the other half go to Folkvangr.

Midgard - Home of the humans. “Middle earth” is located in the middle of the world below Asgard. Midgard and Asgard are connected by Bifrost, the Rainbow Bridge. It’s surrounded by a large, impassable ocean that is occupied by the Midgard Serpent. The first two humans were Ash and Embla and were sent to Midgard after being created from tree logs by Odin and his brothers Vili and Ve.

Jotunheim - Home of the giants. Jotunheim consists mostly of rocks, wilderness, and dense forests, and lies in the snowy regions on the outermost shores of the ocean. There is no fertile land in Jotunheim. Jotunheim is separated from Asgard by the river living which never freezes over.

Vanaheim - Home of the Vanir. Nobody knows where exactly the land is located or how it looks. 

Alfheim - Home of the light elves. Alfheim is located right next to Asgard in heaven. The god Freyr is the ruler of Alfheim. 

Svartalfheim - Home of the dwarves. Svartalfheim means dark fields, and they live under the rocks, in caves, and underground. Hreidmar was the king of Svartalfheim until he was killed. 

Helheim - Home of the dishonorable dead. Hel is where the dishonorable dead, thieves, murderers, or those the gods and goddesses feel are not brave enough to go to Valhalla or Folkvangr. Helheim is ruled over by Hel and is a very grim and cold place. Any person who arrives at Helheim will never feel joy or happiness again. 

[talesofsonicasura]

We've finally made it guys to the last few Fluffals for the Broken Toys AU! This means that every one of MK's monsters for this AU will fully been discussed!

These last few Fluffals are in a special group of their own that I call the Turnabouts. Why they're called this is because all 5 of these remaining monsters are known for instantly turning a dangerous situation around with proper use.

Before we go in, I like to clarify some terms for you guys. In Yugioh, there are different types of areas cards can go in a duel. I realized I didn't do a good job of fully explaining which is since there isn't going to be any actual duels. I'm just adjusting how the cards act outside of it. So have this.

Deck should be referred as the Card Pool or deck pool. This were most of MK's cards are.

Hand will be known as Standby. A place where the cards available for him to use can be held at and ready to be set, summoned or activated.

Monsters, and Continuous Spells or Traps will be marked as Active on the field. For spells or traps, it means MK can activate their effects should the situation calls for it or certs requirements are met at any time.

Graveyard for monsters means they are either in recovery via destruction/on field tribute or benched. Spells or traps in the graveyard meant they have been used up despite any success.

Banished or Out of Play, any monsters or cards sent here are even harder to retrieve much less access. Think of them being sealed away or exorcised.

So why not get started?

Three in One Squad: Fluffal Mouse 'Charlie, Blitzo and Spinnie'

A type of monster MK calls upon in a battle where numbers matter. Fluffal Mouse are fairly weak in both offense and defense, only surpassingly Fluffal Wings or Fluffal Patchwork. Luckily this little rodent can call upon one or two Fluffal Mouse onto the field. Quite useful when our Monkie Kid needs to call upon more powerful Frightfurs or a scout to survey the battlefield.

Charlie, Blitzo and Spinnie are triplets who can be pointed out from their Fluffal Mouse brethren by the symbols on their stomach: Charlie has a blue diamond, Blitzo has a gold star and Spinnie has a spiral. It is quite rare to see one sibling on their own unless it's a scouting mission.

Charlie is the leader and oldest of the group by a few seconds. Docile, kind and a bit gluttonous, this Fluffal Mouse is often seen snacking on any food he gets his paws on with noodles being his favorite. Pigsy usually asks MK if he can borrow Charlie whenever he has a new noodle recipe that needs taste testing.

Blitzo is the second oldest of the group. He's a bit of a spitfire and quite aggressive, often picking fights with other monsters even Frightfurs. The only ones this Fluffal Mouse does respect is his siblings, MK, Mary, Arlo and Sandy who rarely don't have to worry about the aggressive Fluffal.

Spinnie is the youngest of the group. She's incredibly shy, often hiding and most of the time being in MK's hair. Her name comes from that this Fluffal Mouse likes stuff that spins such as Merry-go-rounds, pinwheels, windmills, gears, etc. Mei is trying to boost her confidence at the moment.

Rescue Salvager: Fluffal Octopus 'Ming Ling'

A deep sea monster perfect for situations that MK needs to restock. Fluffal Octopus are some of the rare type of Fluffals who aren't of the Earth element, this being Water. These toy cephalopods can fish out a fallen/sacrificed Fluffal or Edge Imp back on standby for later use. Should Fluffal Octopus be used for Fusion, MK can return any exorcised or banished monsters back to the 'graveyard' for easier access.

Ming Ling is a Fluffal Octopus with a blue patchwork stitch on the back. She was once a Frightfur Kraken but had to be reverted back to a Fluffal as she couldn't handle her power and went berserk. Some Fluffals can't become Frightfurs since there are cases where such abilities would make them go wild.

She's quite kind and assists other Fluffals who can't become Frightfurs come to turns with their condition. Ming Ling helped MK calm down back when he had mental and emotional issues after he became a toy demon. Currently, this Fluffal Octopus plans on helping the Monkey King with his repressed centuries long trauma.

Adorable Switcheroo: Fluffal Sheep 'Wesley'

A wooly ally MK relies for a battle that needs a bait and switch. Fluffal Sheep are more defensive in their battle capabilities albeit fighting isn't something they excel at just like Fluffal Octopus. They are really good at backup since MK can summon one for free if he already has an active Fluffal. Fluffal Sheep can switch any other active Fluffal with an Edge Imp on standby or even one that fell in battle/sacrificed(graveyard).

Wesley is a Fluffal Sheep with a pair of aviator goggles on his head. He often has his head in the clouds, thinking about what wonders that can be found in the clouds. This particular sheep likes to fly around in his free time, accidentally causing the Sky Sheep legend in Megapolis when a few passing airplanes spotted him.

Mei and Tang often ask Wesley about any incredible things he finds during such flights. MK is just happy that the Fluffal Sheep has more people to share his love for the sky with. Even if it comes at the request of getting a special camera to broadcast flights to Mei's phone.

Reinforcing Supplier: Fluffal Penguin 'Mimi'

A water foal MK can rely on when he's some extra luck. Despite their cute appearance, Fluffal Penguins actually tie with Fluffal Leo in natural Attack, only a bit weaker than Fluffal Dogs. Something that makes them a force to be reckoned with combined alongside their special abilities.

An active Fluffal Penguin lets MK special one Fluffal on standby and if used for a fusion, he gets to add two cards from the deckpool but has to discard one. Quite useful for setting defense or unleash another combo.

Mimi is a Fluffal Penguin that wears a blue scarf around her neck. A lover of the outdoors, it's easier to find this particular plush in the forest or mountains than any body of water. She even lives in the Frightfur March woodland instead of with the other Fluffals.

Mimi is also quite sassy and won't hesitate to whack her friends for being stupid or fight bigger enemies that anger her. She doesn't even care if that person was Demon Bull King or Lady Bone Demon either. Get on her nerves then you better expect an angry plush penguin in your face.

Resurrector of the Pendulum: Fluffal Angel 'Babylon'

A mysterious monster that MK summons in a battle where only miracles could claim victory. Just like Edge Imp Cotton Eater and Frightfur Meister, these angelic Fluffals are beings of the Pendulum.

Fluffal Angels are more defensive in physical combat but it's their unique powers that can truly disrupt the battle. In their Spell state, they can bring back a fallen Fluffal or Edge Imp onto the battlefield.

As a monster, they can sacrifice themselves alongside a card on standby to resurrect a fallen Frightfur!

Babylon is a Fluffal Angel that wears a autumn gold laurel around his head. Just like Egil and Mary, he leads the Fluffals faction and is in charge of resetting Frightfurs back into their cuter forms.

Babylon is kind and soft spoken, usually doing his best to help others despite the danger. He isn't easy to anger either, as it takes rare circumstances to set off this particular plush.

It is even rarer for Babylon to actually hate someone. If a person does earn distaste from this Fluffal Angel, then caution needs to be warranted around that individual. An ability that saved his home from terrible danger more times than one.

And that's all the remaining Fluffals! Now, before Broken Toys became a thing, it was originally called the Summoner AU.

Back at the beginning, Frightfurs were just ONE out of four different options. The only factors that would remain the same were: MK loses his humanity due to an accident, how he encountered said cards and the familial bond with them, it starting before canon and how correspond with MK in some way. Here are the other three choices.

Flaming Ancients of Destruction: Jurrac, Leader Jurrac Meteor

Dinosaurs imbued with destructive powers of fire, Jurracs! These monsters came to MK's aid upon sensing his strong fiery heart similar to their own. Jurracs are fire elemental dinosaurs that were quick on increasing their strength and numbers but also destroy any fool that stood in their path.

Their leader is Jurrac Meteor, a monster that destroys everything in his wake and brings out a Tuner Jurrac through the ashes.

Wrathful Cadavers: Vendread, Leader Revendread Slayer

Vengeful corpses that refuse to stay down with regrets, the Vendreads. These dangerous zombies crawled from the grave upon feeling the boy's inner cry for justice and vengeance. Vendreads are monsters that ritually sacrifice themselves to grant more power to their stronger counterparts. Even to the point of rending their core contained souls asunder just to shut down any chance for their opponents to win.

Their leader is Revendread Slayer.

Heaven's Fallen: Darklord, Leader Darklord Morningstar

Holy beings of light banished to the darkness, the Darklords. Fallen angels that wish to protect MK and keep his pure soul from being lost forever. Darklords hold power so incredible to the point that only life energy and sacrifice can allow them to unleash their true potential. Seal away their enemy's power, smite every soldier, and call upon more fallen angels to leave all opposition utterly hopeless.

Their Leader is Darklord Morningstar.

That's it for now. Until next time folks, I'll see you back at Megapolis.

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[askkrenko]

Krenko’s Guide to Creature Types: Leviathan

Art by Grzegorz Rutkowski

What is a Leviathan (flavorfully)?

...Weren’t we just here? Oh, right, Kraken. 

The Leviathan is a huge whale-dragon-fish, the biggest thing in the whole ocean, that I get to eat at the end of the world and you don’t get to have any. 

In Magic, Leviathans are huge eel-whale-fish, the biggest things in the whole ocean that are not Krakens or Serpents, and sometimes have other random aquatic features. Most planes have a few Leviathans, but no world has a large population of them. 

On Ravnica, Leviathans fly. This isn’t for any sane or reasonable reason, mind you, but because Momir Vig is a mad scientist who can’t be trusted with crabs let alone with sea monsters, and now we’ve got to deal with huge, building-swallowing eels flying around the upper city.

What is a Leviathan (mechanically)?

Leviathans are huge blue creatures, generally designed for the purpose of winning a game that you’ve otherwise clinched with control spells. Leviathans generally start at 5/5, and the biggest Leviathans have double-digit power and/or toughness.  Some have flying, which is normal for blue, but what’s particularly interesting is that some have Trample. Trample is not part of Blue’s color pie, generally, and appears on a mere fourteen mono-blue cards, four of which are Leviathans, and most of the others are… old.  It’s not a huge part of the Leviathan identity, but it’s definitely interesting to note.

Can I make a Leviathan deck?

Yes, oddly enough. There are four cards that reward “Krakens, Leviathans, Octopuses, and Serpents,” and while there’s not quite enough Krakens to really go all-out with these cards, there’s enough of the other three types to make up the difference and make a proper 60 card deck that rewards you for playing Krakens.

I just wrote that recently when talking about Krakens. Just replace the second two “Krakens” with “Leviathans” and it’s the same truth.

In Commander, if you want to make a Leviathan deck, you’ve got a choice to make. If you really want to take advantage of the creature type, Slinn Voda is an obvious Legendary Leviathan that rewards other Leviathans, as well as three other types. There are certainly other options, but if Leviathan is what you care about, he’s the Leviathan lead. He does have the drawback of costing approximately a million mana to cast, but that just means you’ll have to fill your deck with artifact ramp. 

Is Leviathan a good creature type?

I was seriously just here with Kraken. I’m just going to repost the whole damn wall of text.

Kraken is almost a good creature type. They serve their purpose well, they’re obvious, they’re iconic, and while they could often be other things, the terminology gives them a major boost. The big problem with Kraken as a type is that Leviathan exists, but the big problem with Leviathan is that Kraken exists.

See, Magic has just completely failed to distinguish a Leviathan from a Kraken. While Leviathans are generally more unified in being more serpentine, there are plenty of serpentine Kraken, and then of course there’s the entire Serpent creature type which serves the same role as Leviathan and Kraken do. If one were invertebrates, one were fish, and one were reptiles that’d be one thing, but Kraken and Leviathan are so varied that there’s really no reason some are Krakens and some are Leviathans.

And Wizards knows this. They know this enough that every card that rewards creature type Kraken also rewards creature types Leviathan and Serpent (and Octopus, though they’re sort of in their own category.) These types are EXACTLY the sort of reason we need fewer creature types. Serpent and Kraken should both be Leviathan (as it’s the least specific of the three words), as a general catch- all for huge Sea Monsters.

There. Same thing. Leviathan should absorb the Krakens and the Serpents, because without them it’s just fighting over design space with two other types that are basically the same creature as it. 

[anchoviesinthenightsky]

If they weren't sea folk-mermaid like creatures, what monster type would you have liked to see Luca and Alberto be and how do you think it'd change the thing of the movie?

oh interesting question! Okay, i'm going to assume that regardless of what monster/mythical creature they are, they can still change into humans.

My first thoughts were-- Alberto had a few different sea-monster related designs both one as an octopus and one as a kraken. but those are both sea monster-ish. so let's keep going.

and my second thought was that I read a fic where Alberto was a dragon, which was super interesting, because like... we know that Alberto has a fear of being a person who makes everything worse. And as a dragon, he can inflict very real damage on buildings and, more importantly, on people. I think as a dragon he'd have a very, like, aang learning fire bending type journey, I think. (i.e. he'd get out of control one time early on, hurt someone, swear to never firebend/breathe fire again, but since it's part of his nature it's not something he can avoid. so he finds someone trustworthy to teach him.-- could be luca 👀). Personally, I think the dragon one is pretty interesting. It'd give a lot more credibility/urgency to the town's fear of them, which would be interesting to see them push against. (Plus alberto in the tower as a dragon with his hoard of human treasures... works well.) I think Luca as a dragon would be harder to write? But I think it'd be one of those things where he's more comfortable with his identity.

But let's keep going-- as centaurs, they'd probably need to change settings to be in more of a forest based environment than in an ocean based one.

Satyrs would be a similar deal, but I feel like that fits Luca's/Alberto's mischievous nature.

Werewolves/ Vampires-- I'm grouping together because they both have a similar dynamic. Where, instead of them being monsters who can turn human, they're humans who were turned into monsters. I think that would lead to a lot more resentment about being monsters/ they'd make more of an attempt to hide it (Alberto especially). I feel like, either way, Luca would come from a long line of werewolves/vampires, and Alberto would have been recently turned.

Basilisk-- I think this one could be kind of similar to the dragon one? I'm also thinking more Owl House basilisk than Harry Potter basilisk (I've also only seen up to s2 ep 10 of the Owl House)

And last but not least, because these boys are Italian, I present to you the idea: Mazzamuriello! Luca & Alberto

Mazzamuriello are sort of the Italian version of leprachauns/ brownies/ yule lads.

Here's how the article I pulled up describes them: "A Mazzamurello signals his presence to the inhabitants of the house by making noises. Its presence may indicate the proximity of a treasure, an imminent danger to one of the residents, or a message of a deceased loved one trying to communicate with the living"

I grew up more so with the story that they were mischievous trouble makers. They won't really do you much harm or warn you of anything, but they're the ones responsible with things make noise when no one's around, and they're also responsible to taking objects (but they'll put them back eventually). I also grew up with the idea that there was one mazzamurello and that they followed a single family through the line of the oldest child. (also because I'm Italian-American, and most Italian words experienced a slight transformation in America, I also grew up calling them Mazzamuriells, instead of Mazzamuriello)

But anyway, going back to the prompt-- Luca and Alberto as Mazzamuriello, who sneak around the town of Portorosso borrowing different objects that they promise they'll return eventually (and they do... sometimes). I think "the change" would be a little harder on them b/c their height would change drastically. But it'd be a very fun and different take!

(out of these I feel like Dragon/ Basilisk, and maybe Mazzamuriello are my favorites!)

[bleusimpstash]

Oh boy, I’m nervous sharing this but reading a bunch of Kraken!Sans musings from @aka-indulgence got me inspired enough for me to write a thing about it! I’ve got more ideas for this scenario, but since I’m not used to writing longer things (or just getting the courage to do so pfft) I’ll stick to this for now.

READER-INSERT STUFF, so if that ain’t your gig it’ll be under the read more!

As a quick summary, this is HT Kraken boi meeting Reader for the first time! They’re work in a mysterious underwater laboratory, and after singing a little for fun they come to realize that a massive aquarium isn’t as empty as it looked... >:)

~ SIREN SONG ~

You should have known better than to trust that a massive aquarium would be empty, despite how dark and lifeless it appeared to be through the large hallway windows. With it being your first night in this underwater laboratory, and as a janitor no less, how could you have known that something would watch and listen to your every move through the pristine glass?

If you’d known this, you wouldn’t have been singing as you mopped the metal floors, dancing and swaying to the rhythm of the song as you worked. Music was your secret passion, your outlet of emotions often times in a job that allowed you few creative freedoms, and there wasn’t any better time to sing than during your night shift, when everyone was sound asleep in the community dorms! With no one to bother you or critique your voice, it wasn’t long before you’d completely absorbed yourself in your chosen playlist, letting your cadence ring through the halls with no restraint.

However, your voice wasn’t only reaching through the many empty halls and labs of the underwater facility, it also echoed through the glass and into the darkened waters of the containment aquarium… attracting the attention of an ancient, primal horror. A hellish red pupil flickered to life at the bottom of the containment aquarium, drawn up towards the dim lights which glowed through the hallways that lined the enormous cage…

Oblivious you took no notice of the dangerous attention you’d garnered, as your favorite bit of the song came around your voice grew in volume as well, passionately singing along with the words. The scene the music inspires dances out in your mind as you daydream yourself far away from the dark, dank underwater laboratory you worked in, closing your eyes briefly to immerse yourself more in your escapism. Because of this, you weren’t able to notice the massive red light that slowly lifts itself into view through the window, the glowing orb illuminating a partial skull that was too large to fully see through the window, cropped to just above his mangled jawline and below the monstrous crack in his skull. Upon seeing a tiny human singing and dancing about, the sea behemoth freezes in place to closely observe your movements, drawn in by your voice.

Of course, the moment you open your own eyes, you notice the unusual red tint that covers the hallway around you. Puzzled by this you look around to see if perhaps an emergency light had somehow turned on, only to be greeted by something far more worrying when you turn to face the aquarium window.

You stood frozen in view of the massive eye, bathed in its glowing red light that now illuminated the dim hallway. The music was still playing in your ears, but now you may as well be deaf to everything around you, awed by the sheer size of the creature staring at you, and also internally panicking. What was this thing?! Why hadn’t anyone told you this giant aquarium was containing some sort of sea monster, and how had you not seen it earlier when you peered through the hallway’s glass window?

These questions were trivial now, as the red eye (that alone was taller than you were-) appeared to constrict slightly, as if the creature were watching your reaction with great intensity. Your next move was out of pure instinct alone, as you waved your hand shyly at it as if trying to shoo the enormous eye away. “M-move along, there’s nothing to see here…” You tell it shakily, gripping the handle of your mop as if your life depended on it. You weren’t even sure if the thing could understand you, or hear you through the glass, but there was some sort of reaction in how the eye suddenly shrank, making you jump out of fear of having angered this nightmarish being somehow. “No really! I’m no one interesting, just-just cleaning stuff for the night! I won’t bother you, I promise!”

A rumble comes as your response, a sound which gently vibrates through your body before the low pitch reached your ear. Your body shudders in response to the unnatural sensation, before you legitimately began to tremble when a massive clawed hand suddenly pressed itself against the glass, so big that you can only partially see the palm through the window frame! At this point you were all too certain this sea monster was trying to break the glass to eat you and were just about to flee down the hall, when another type of sound suddenly came from the beast…

… a strangely melodic hum, if you could call it that, where through the rumble you could pick up the different pitches and notes the monster was creating. The more you listened to the slow noise, the more you caught on to the fact that these notes were strikingly similar to the song you had just been singing before the massive eye caught you off guard!

Was this thing… trying to sing with you?

Your eyes widened with surprise at this realization, a new emotion blooming in your chest as you gingerly placed the mop against the wall, your full attention now on the red eye as it dilated and grew in size, seemingly having noticed the fear leaving your expression.

“Are you… singing?” You dare to ask, hesitantly approaching the window with newfound curiosity, despite caution screaming at you to run away instead of approach the much larger creature. The hum which shook your entire being ebbed away as you spoke, leaving a moment of silence between the two of you as you stared at one another, though the quiet did not feel so heavy or threatening as it had before. A light squeak from the glass drew your attention as the pale white hand (was that bone?) moved slightly, curling into a fist and allowing you to spot the sharpened claws at the end of this creature’s fingers. And yet… this didn’t feel like a threatening gesture. You focus again on the eye, as it bobbed very slightly up and down. The sea monster nodded.

“...You… heard me singing then, didn’t you?” You dumbly stated, pointing a finger at yourself as you took in the fact that this inhuman looking giant actually understood you and was capable of responding. Another slight nod of the eye comes at your response. “And it… didn’t bother you?”

Instead of moving up and down, the eye and the white socket around it (oh goodness that was bone-) shifted from side to side, a shake of the monster’s massive head. It was responding, giving yes and no answers, this was crazy-!

It was crazy, and yet for some reason you felt so giddy inside. You couldn’t help the wide smile that was suddenly on your face, the dimples you felt on your cheeks almost feeling foreign as you reached up to cover your mouth. When was the last time you’d felt this excited?

“Wow, guess you’re a musician too then, huh?” You muse softly, quiet enough that you wouldn’t think the creature would hear you and yet a brief rumbling… purr, proved you wrong. You labeled this sound a purr, mainly because of the glimmer you could suddenly see swimming about in the giant eye, a glimmer that you interpreted as amusement. A small laugh leaves you before you pick up your music player from the coat’s pocket, browsing through your song selection to pick another one to play.

“Well, I do need to keep working, but if you’d like I can pick something a little slower. Maybe you could... sing along?” You asked as you settled for a familiar folk song, slow but easy to hum along to. “This one’s not too hard, just repeat after me.”

While you weren’t certain how well this would work, you took your mop in hand again and began to sing the folk song of your choice, the notes far more melodic and gradual in pace. The old love song was one of your favorites, and you hardly needed to listen to the recording to know what words to sing, lost instead in the somber violins and rolling tones of the song. Once you had finished the first verse of the tune, already swaying to the rhythm as you mopped, the rumbling of the massive monster soon shook your body once more, reminding you of his presence as you peek subtly in the glass window’s direction, continuing to sing still as a low pitched wail joined you.

He matched you pitch by pitch, perhaps a little off key but still hauntingly beautiful with his own singing. Unlike your soprano cadence that allowed you to reach high notes with ease and confidence, the giant skeletal monster’s voice reached your core before your ears, vibrating with a primal energy that blended seamlessly with his song. Deep, otherworldly, and a stark contrast to your human vocals. You would have stopped in your own melody, feeling unworthy of singing alongside him, but from the equally enraptured glow of that surprisingly expressive eye… You couldn’t help but have the impression that he was listening very closely to your own voice as well.

And so your unusual duet with a friendly sea monster continued, as you slowly moved your way up the darkened hallways, keeping to the routes that stayed alongside the giant creature’s aquarium and allowed him to very gradually follow you from window to window. Once you finished the first folk song, the two of you easily continued onto the next melody, and just as quickly to the one after that. Song after song passed on your playlist, each one giving you and the sea creature a chance to hear one another and become lost in the music the two of you created together. It was… surreal to your own mind, you almost couldn’t believe this was actually happening, and yet every time you would glance to the monster’s enormous face to find him following your every move with a wide, dilated red eye, reality would prove you wrong.

But soon enough, you had to move onto the other sections of the laboratory. You’d get chewed out for a botched job if you didn’t clean the entire facility by the end of the night, and yet somehow that looming threat didn’t bother you as much as it normally would, finishing the last song with a heavy sigh as you placed the mop in the wheeled bucket. The sea monster appeared to catch onto the turn of your emotions, as his rumbling moans soon tapered off into a heavy silence, the red light illuminating the hallway growing more intense as he leaned closer to the glass. Leaning closer to you.

While you knew by now that he was friendly, being under that much scrutiny from a massive entity was still quite intimidating, and you couldn’t help but take a step back in surprise. You were quick to realize that this was likely him trying to figure out what was wrong though, so with a saddened smile you pointed a thumb down the turning hallway, which ventured away from his aquarium and into dim darkness. “Sorry big guy, this is where we part ways. I’ve got to mop up the rest of this place by the end of the night.” You explained with a disappointed tone, turning your focus towards your phone briefly and missing the drastic shrink of the monster’s glowing pupil. “It was nice singing with you though, you have a beautiful voi-”

You were nearly shaken off balance by the force of his clawed hand bashing against the window suddenly, followed swiftly by a deep guttural growl that tore through the air around you. A sharp gasp leaves you as you quickly turn to the sea beast, to see both his hands now pressed against the glass in front of you, his skull now in full view at the distance he was at and his anger all too clear through his beastly expression. It was barely human, his giant teeth were in full view and each one was razor sharp. His socket with the glowing pupil was practically searing the water around it, nearly a pinprick of light now glared at you while his other socket was a hollow black and narrowed. But most alarmingly of all, a detail that had been hidden by how close he’d been to the window before, was how an enormous portion of his skull was just gone, leaving nothing but a cracked husk in the top right half of the monster’s head. As drawn as your eyes were to the gruesome injury, with the beast snarling in your direction and pressing into the glass, you had more important things to worry about.

Such as the cracks you could suddenly hear from the window-

“W-wait! Stop, what’s wrong? Why are you so angry?” You yelped frantically, unwisely approaching the hands pressed against the windows with your own hands stretched out, as if hoping to push him away from breaking the precious barrier. If he broke the glass windows, the whole laboratory could be flooded, and everyone (mainly you-) would drown! “Please, be gentle with the glass, I can’t breathe in water like you if it breaks!”

Surprisingly enough the sea monster appeared to hear you through the ear-splitting growls he was making, and while he still radiated a hot fury from his sockets and far-too wide grin, the clawed phalanges are slowly lowered from the windows. You sigh with relief as the cracks you’d heard go silent, but still faced with an enraged giant you press your own hand against the glass, watching his expression desperately and trying to make out what had upset him. He’d started making a fuss when you said you had to leave…

“Do you… want me to stay?” You hesitantly asked, your eyes widening as his clawed hand returned to mirror your own hand on the glass, practically engulfing you in it’s shadow as his palm loomed over you, each of his fingers far taller than you alone. His face drew closer yet again, hiding his head injury to watch you when his hand had hidden you from his sight. The growls at last quiet down some, and grew more high pitched in tone. It almost sounded like a… pitying whine now, to your ears. You took this as a yes, he wanted you to stay.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I wish I could, but I can’t.” You said honestly, drawing your eyes away from his towering hand and towards his eye with a morose expression of your own. “I’ll get in trouble if I don’t clean the labs by the time everyone wakes up. I’m… I’m the janitor, after all, this is what they expect me to do.” You state the last sentence bitterly, clearly not wanting to be a janitor, but it was all you could do here without having the qualifications to be a scientist in these labs.

Showing your frustration to an already irate sea beast wasn’t the wisest choice however, as his cries went silent all together and a heavy silence fell all around you. His pupil was shrinking even further… Thankfully this time you caught onto his souring mood and tried to turn the tides as much as you could, offering him a hopeful grin instead through the glass and making your tone more cheerful.

“But, once I’m done I can come back! I do want to see you again, it’s not everyday you find a music partner after all!” You said as confidently as you could, watching the behemoth carefully for his reaction. “I promise I’ll be quick, you’ll hardly notice that I’m gone. So don’t be mad, kay?”

From the slight narrowing of his sockets you got the impression he was suspicious of you, but of what you couldn’t say. Perhaps picking up on the pleading tone of your voice though, the sea monster at last appears to relent and lowered his gargantuan hand from the glass, swimming to put distance between himself and the windows while his single red pupil remained intensely focused on you. A silent truce, allowing you to leave despite appearing hesitant about it still.

A wave of relief hit you at this point, though you did your best not to show this and instead gave the giant skeleton a happy grin and wave of goodbye, before beginning to scoot your mop bucket down the branching hallway and further into the depths of the lab. You didn’t stop until you felt the burning sensation on your back leave you, knowing that if you turned to see him watching you leave like a lost puppy you likely wouldn’t have the heart to go through with your janitorial duties. But you had a job to do, and you seriously needed the money, so you’d turn down your own wants for the next few hours until you were done.

After that, you’d be free to visit your bizarre, terrifying, yet exciting new companion.

[anxiouslyfred]

Love After Exile - Figuring Out

Summary: Virgil loved Remus and Deceit long before they fell out. Now he’s dating Logan after beginning to recognise similar feelings. As Deceit and Remus start trying to figure out for themselves what Virgil isn’t saying Virgil has to get used to his room being moved by Roman.

Formatting: There’s a shifting POV, anytime you see Bold starts of a paragraph then there’s been a perspective shift.

Pairings: Analogical from the start, eventual Analoceitmus though that’ll take a few parts

Warnings for this part: I kind of imply Thomas having had some internalised homophobia at some point, possessiveness, 

/\/\/\/\/\ Part One /\/\/\/\

“Staring isn't day dreaming. That's my thing!” Remus barged into Deceit's room yelling. The thing that didn't fit the most finally hit his mind enough to come up with a million ideas for why someone might stare. The ideas didn't help him know which would cause His Virgil to change how he acted to the extent they'd noticed but that's why he liked Deceit.

It didn't mean he expected to find the usually over composed side surrounded by books, some memories and some psychology, looking like he was two steps from tearing pages out and stringing them together. He still sounded calm as he looked up however. “You're right about that, but what emotions make people stare, Remus? Virgil hid his emotions tightly so the likelihood is that's at least connected to what he was hiding.”

As much as Deceit and Rejected Creativity worked together they viewed the world in completely different ways and for one of the few times they'd experienced that would help them solve a problem rather than cause one. Even if they didn't focus on their emotions outside of aiding Thomas a lot of the time, they would for now, for the one they never understood leaving when he'd clearly wanted to stay.

That's what they were still doing when Remus froze again. He'd been the facilitator of Virgil moving his room when they kicked him out. There had been no need for Roman to be involved since he wasn't moving straight in with the Light sides and whether the other knew or not Creativity was needed to shape and change the mind space. Now the mental tie he had to Virgil's room had snapped back at him as Roman took control of it. “Whatever he's hiding or whatever has My Anxiety in Logic's arms, his room is now probably in the Light Sides house rather than floating unconnected.”

Virgil himself didn't know how to react to what was going on. He'd stayed with Logan longer than planned after the others had left, trying to reason his way out of how he felt, despite them both knowing the psychology studies that showed it couldn't completely work without time and distance.

Then Roman was calling him and showing that his room had been brought to them. The room that the last time anyone other than a dark side had visited caused them to panic and the room he retreated to when Thomas needed him to work. He hadn't wanted to bring it there in case it negatively affected Logan when they were spending time together somehow, but it was also his way of staying connected to the two he loved, being halfway between them and the Light sides.

Of course he thanked Roman. It was clearly meant as a gift, and a complete acceptance that the trio still kept finding new ways to insist was wholehearted. Walking in though, as soon as the door was shut he was crying, weeping into the pillow. Love, he was learning always came with pain and he could only try to listen to Logan's reassurances that it couldn't be only pain for it to become so entrenched in peoples lives.

The possessiveness was what sparked the thoughts in Deceit's mind. He'd known for years how Remus viewed them as His People and that made them separate from others, always just him and Virgil regardless of the other sides Deceit hid from Thomas and even when they were annoyed with each other that stayed. He just saw it as a part of Remus, but there had always been times, especially near them kicking Virgil out when the other would smile brighter and visibly force himself to pay more attention whenever it was mentioned.

Only Logic had ever denied that each of the sides had the entire range of emotions just motivated by different things, and those reactions when Deceit thought them over could only come from Virgil wanting to be Theirs. “Is romance included in the reactions that cause staring? That could cause someone to shy away from questions?”

He watched as Remus' expression changed from his uncontrolled, explosive focus as creativity to something torn, once completely rejected by Thomas now so embraced it had literally moved between the two Creativities. Part of him hated bringing up the idea, remembered the impacts of society on Thomas when he was younger and the repercussions it still had on them today, but also knew that while lust had largely been left with the rejected Creativity there was more than just that in Remus still.

Nothing was said when a week later Remus appeared in the Light Sides house again. He focused on Logic more than anyone which seemed to be expected. That almost made him want to focus on someone else, but being argued down instead of screamed at was a delightful change and it had nothing to do with the side leaning against him at all.

Thomas was going to the seaside with friends soon so of course he was thinking of all the things in the ocean and Remus had far too many ideas over just what could be at the bottom of it something that finally seemed to get under Logan's skin enough he struggled arguing against the existence of, or likelihood of running into, sea monsters like the Kraken.

Here he was expected to either focus entirely on one thing or jump between lewd or gross subjects as if no conventions kept a flow of conversations and that was why Deceit wouldn't follow until later. They knew the fears mentioned in the early Sanders Sides videos, as sides of Thomas, they couldn't help but know, but they also wanted one more reaction before believing what they thought Virgil might have been avoiding saying. “There's cities down there and beings evolved to build then kidnap ships to monitor the civilisation out of the water.” Remus was suggesting, only slightly taking inspiration from some conspiracy videos that Thomas had spent the previous night watching.

“Fake news!” Virgil snorted. Which of them had influenced Thomas's choice to watch them more: Logan wanting to debunk the crazy ones, Remus wanting more inspiration or Virgil's interest in any conspiracy out there. “Besides if you're going to bring up the Bermuda triangle I think the alien spaceships are more interesting. They've been monitoring us from the water for millennia and only take to the skies if they want live experiments doing.”

“You are My People, Vee-vee. Ooh what type of aliens could they be?” Remus watched the reaction even as he began describing any type of alien he could imagine forming. Logan had frowned and tightened an arm around Virgil but the Anxious side had sat up, moving slightly more towards Remus now, the smirk he'd had while listening becoming a small smile. Virgil still wanted to be His People, even when in the lap of someone else.

Something had changed in his partner at the claim. Logan could see he had brightened easily after spending so long around the other, but Logan was also struggling himself with the subject playing into his fears. He'd learnt to accept however that emotions don't have reason behind them and the playful arguing between Anxiety and Rejected Impulses (somehow he'd find a way to separate Remus with his title) was comforting to him, and offering him an easier way to approach it with science beyond just asking vague questions that might never be answered.

Perhaps the man joining them held a stronger place in Virgil's love than he did but he already intrigued Logan with the questions and suggestions he brought up. Taking a small risk he suggested viewing the videos again in his room where memories discussing things in a factual style manner could be maintained more easily.

The invite had them all in various seats around his enlarged laptop since Remus insisted on having space to react. An afternoon together learning and theorising about topics that usually unsettled him ended up being a rather pleasant way for Logan to spend time with them.

/\/\/\/\ Part Three /\/\/\/\  Part Four /\/\/\/\/\ Part Five /\/\/\/\/\  Part 6 /\/\/\ Part Seven /\/\/\ Part Eight /\/\/\ Part Nine /\/\/\/\

[mythicallore]

Cryptids Proven to be Real Give Us Hope for These 5 Others

Cryptid Monsters Proven Real

Cryptid monsters are known to terrorize and typically reported by a significant portion of a population, or at least a large enough group to confirm that it is indeed an anomalous creature. In earlier years, these animals were brutes fought by hunters and fishermen on outings, and were exaggerated to prove their machismo upon returning home. But eventually these tales became backed by hard evidence, and today we know them well.

The Giant Squid

19th century Scandinavian whalers spoke of the Kraken; an enormous squid whose appendages were found in the bellies of whales and said to be as thick as a ship mast. Fishermen continued to report attacks by these tentacled monstrosities, to the disbelief of landlubbers back home. But eventually they returned with specimens, or found their carcasses washed ashore.

In 1853, a large squid with a horny beak and large throat washed aground in Denmark, baffling local scientists. Johan Japetus Steenstrup, a professor of zoology from the University of Copenhagen, identified the creature as a giant squid.

Today, the giant squid is a scientifically accepted animal, reaching lengths up to 40 feet long. Their enormity is attributed to something called deep-sea gigantism; a tendency for deep sea invertebrates to be larger than their shallow-water relatives. But the giant squid isn’t even the biggest mollusk of its kind, that title is reserved for the colossal squid, which reaches up to 46 feet in length.

The Platypus

The platypus is a rather bizarre looking creature and if you attempted to explain it to someone before its discovery, they’d almost certainly believe you were mad. So, it’s an egg-laying mammal with the bill of a duck, the tail of a beaver, the webbed-feet of an otter, and the venom of a snake? Sure.

But now the platypus is a well-known creature, lending credence to the possibility of other cryptids that seem to be an amalgam of disparate species. When it was first presented to British zoologist George Shaw, he attempted to rip off its beak, believing it had been glued on. Eventually, he took scissors to the deceased animal, before he realized it was genuine. That particular specimen can be found to this day in a British museum.

The Frilled Shark

Sea serpents have stoked the fears of sea-farers for centuries, tormenting sailors and swallowing ships whole. From Texas to Norway, reports of sea serpents sprang up in local and national publications during the 19th century, depicted as gargantuan snakes devouring unwitting mariners while they innocently roamed the sea.

Today, the frilled shark could be considered the closest animal to these horrific serpent tales, appearing much like those descriptions written in antiquity, though comparatively smaller. The frilled shark was discovered in the late 1800s by German ichthyologist Ludwig H.P. Döderlein, and later described by Samuel Garman as, “such an animal as that described is very likely to unsettle disbelief in what is popularly called the ‘sea serpent.’”

So, it’s a shark, but a frightening one at that, with 25 clusters of 300 sharp, serrated teeth, the Chlamydoselachus africana is one of those relics from the days when dinosaurs ruled the Earth. It’s also one of those deep-sea dwellers, which is part of the reason they are so rarely seen.

Cryptid Creatures With Real Potential

The Jersey Devil

The Jersey Devil, a.k.a. the Leeds Devil, is one of the more popular cryptids of modernity, appearing to thousands of residents, since its first official recording throughout several New Jersey towns in 1909. Scores of people in Trenton, Woodbury and Swedesboro reported a giant winged creature flying through the night, emanating a horrible scream. But as it turns out, Native American tribes in the area had been seeing the Jersey Devil centuries before.

One of the old wives’ tales of the devil comes from a woman named Mother Leeds, who became pregnant with an unwanted 13thchild, whom she cursed. The child was born normally, but then became a horrendous monster. To this day, it resides in the Pine Barren forests, over a million acres of land preserved on the state’s coast.

Described as a cross between a bat and a horse with a long spaded tail, the Jersey Devil has terrified residents of the state, who claim to have found maimed animals and other birds after hearing its cry. Some have written it off as a large bird of prey or a certain type of crane, but others say it is a surviving Pteranodon, a pterodactyl from the Cretaceous period.

Enter the hammerhead bat, a.k.a. the Big-Lipped Bat. The hammerhead bat falls into the megabat category which are exactly what you think they are – massive bats. Hammerhead bats can be found in mangroves, swamps, and forests at lower elevations, usually in Africa. Could the Jersey Devil be an invasive, or transported, Hammerhead bat population that established a home for itself in the Garden State? Ok, so it’s not a new species, but it would validate thousands of local residents’ sightings.

The Orang Pendek

Sumatra’s apeman cryptid, the Orang Pendek is thought to possibly be distant human relative known as Homo floresiensis, sometimes referred to as the real-life hobbit.

In the Indonesian language, Orang Pendek translates to “short person,” and it is believed to be an undiscovered primate species, that could potentially be of the genus Homo. Over the years there have been a number of Orang Pendek sightings by travelers, locals, and researchers who have come in search of the cryptid or stumbled upon it by chance.

The most common characteristics confirmed by these numerous sightings depict the Orang Pendek standing between 30 and 60 inches in height, or about 2½ to 5 feet tall. These cryptids are described as being covered in golden, brown, or grey hair and are bipedal, walking erect in the same manner as humans. But what’s even more bizarre is that they are said to have human-like facial features, differing noticeably in appearance from monkeys.

The Megalodon

Not just because they’ve recently made a Hollywood sci-fi horror about it, but the chance that a Meg could exist might be better than other cryptids who call the ocean their home. First off, the Megalodon actually existed as recently as 2.6 million years ago during the Early Micoene period, to the end of the Pliocene. It was essentially like a Great White Shark, but two to three times larger. It wouldn’t be too hard to imagine a surviving species of shark with deep-sea gigantism twice the size of a Great White. In fact there are other sharks that live at significant depths, including the Goblin Shark and the aforementioned Frilled Shark.

Bigfoot

Almost every culture has its version of Bigfoot; in North America it’s Sasquatch, the Chinese have the Yeren, in Nepal it’s the Yeti, in Australia it’s the Yowie, and in just about every other region of the world you can find a regional ape-like cryptid.

So where is the hard photo and video evidence? There isn’t really a good answer to that question, as Bigfoot is probably the most elusive cryptid there is. But why would so many disparate cultures describe the same type of creature over the course of centuries?

One could say that we have a predilection to create archetypes of mythical creatures that resemble versions of ourselves. There are also a number of other primate species that inhabit the world’s jungles, including one discovered just last year. Is it so hard to believe that a more sentient humanoid branched off from the many other ancestors Homo sapiens diverged from, like an evolved, surviving ancestor of Gigantopithecus?

Bigfoot is by far the most popular cryptid while also the most divisive, so we’ll leave it to you to decide. Are you a believer?

[fallencomrade-a]

𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴'𝚂 𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚄𝙻𝚃𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙾𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙶...

WHAT IS YOUR HOMERIC EPITHET ? 

(  PRE - WWII  )

BRIGHT EYES, JAMES BARNES.    homer  also  used  this  epithet  to  describe  athena,  the  goddess  of  things  like  wisdom,  diplomacy,  war,  and  arts  &&  crafts.        athena  was  the  patron  of  odysseus  and  helped  him  out  of  some  tough  spots,      except  for  those  times  she  just  didn’t  feel  like  it  for  some  reason  or  another. 

(  POST - HYDRA  )

BUCKY BARNES,  THE GIANT KILLER.    in  homer’s  epics,  he  attributed  this  epithet  to  hermes,  the  messenger  god  who  had  a  secret  side  business  in  giant - killing.            hermes  was  considered  the  protector  of  thieves,  travelers,  and  athletes,         and  he  also  enjoyed  things  like  poetry,  music,  and  journeying  to  and  from  the  underworld  just  because  he  could.

WHAT IS YOUR FATAL FLAW ? 

(  PRE - WWII  )

YOU’RE AN IDEALIST IN A CRUEL, CALLOUS WORLD.    you  want  the  world  to  be  good.  here’s  the  problem :  it’s  usually  not.   at  best  it’s  sub - par.   at  worst  it’s  a  nightmare  void,  and  your  naiveté  is  simply  a  plot  device  used  to  emphasize  this  point.           your�� inability  to  accept  the  world’s  present  darkness  will  lead  to  your  untimely  downfall,  but  not  before  your  dewy - eyed  idealism  and  rosy  visions  of  utopia  erode  away.       YOU WILL BECOME A SHELL OF YOUR FORMER SELF... 

( POST - HYDRA )

YOU’RE TOO CLEVER BY HALF.     your  intelligence  is  unmatched,  but  your  smart  mouth  is  going  to  get  you  into  trouble  one  of  these  days  -  everyone  says  so.       odds  are  you’ll  make  one  witty  remark  too  many  and  meet  a  tragic,  easily  preventable  end  that  surprises  no  one  in  the  least.  you  will  be  mourned,  of  course,  but  we  all  saw  it  coming,  and  you  kind  of  deserved  it.

HOW WOULD YOU DIE IN GREEK MYTHOLOGY ?

(  PRE - WWII  )

GOING TO BE EATEN BY A SEA MONSTER.    if  you  were  a  figure  in  greek  mythology,  you  would  get  eaten  by  a  sea  monster.            whether  it  would  be  SCYLLA  (  a  beast  with  many  necks  &&  tentacle  legs  )  or  CHARYBDIS  ( big old whirlpool )  makes  no  difference      -     you  would  be  dead  because  you  are  not  the  protagonist.  you  are  a  background  character  at  best,  and  your  job  is  to  show  everyone  else  in  greek  mythology  how  dangerous  sea  monsters  are.           there  is  also  the  HYDRA,  the  sirens,  and  the  kraken  -  so  take  your  pick  and  get  to  dying !

( POST - HYDRA )

GOING TO BE KILLED BY THE MINOTAUR.    if  you  were  a  figure  in  greek  mythology,  you  would  be   one   of  the   fourteen  citizens   of  athens   sacrificed   every  couple   of  years  to   appease   the  minotaur.  basically  you’d  be  sent  into  the  labyrinth  without  a  weapon,  and  if  you  were  lucky  you  would  get  lost  and  perish  from  lack  of  food  or  water.  if  you  were  unlucky,  you  would  die  by  the  monster’s  hand.  eventually,  the  hero  THESEUS  came  along  and  put  a  stop  to  it,  but  it  sure  sucks  for  all  those  people  who  died  before  he  got  around  to  it.

WHAT LITERARY SETTING DO YOU BELONG IN ?

(  PRE - WWII  )

ON THE ROAD     like  so  many  literary  characters  ( Huck Finn,  Odysseus,  Gulliver, etc. ),  you’re  an  adventurer  &&  explorer  at  heart,  and  the  literary  setting  that  most  closely  matches  your  personality  is  quite  frankly…  all the settings !   you’re  not  meant  to  settle  down  in  one  spot  -  you  are  the  kind  of  person  who  hits  up  multiple  parties  in  one  night.  embrace it !  take  to  the  open  road  with  your  friends,  run  through  a  field  of  wildflowers  in  the  middle  of  nowhere,  and  please  get  a  pic  next  to  the  world’s  largest  ketchup  bottle.

( POST - HYDRA )

PEMBERLEY,  Mr. Darcy’s stunning country estate.   this  elegant  mansion  is  replete  with  classy  chaise  lounges,  tasteful  decoration,  natural  beauty,    and  large  marble  statues  of  wealthy,  gorgeous  brits.  totally  ideal  for  a  charming,  Lizzy  Bennet - type  like  yourself.    the  secluded  woody  hills  are  perfect  for  taking  dates  on  long,  romantic  strolls.

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[nekucreates]

So I couldn’t sleep last night ‘cause I was thinking about a Sideshow Pirate AU! Featuring Criken, Bed, Tamto, and Buck. Which I might or might not draw idk. More in the Read More cause I didn’t wanna spam folks that follow me with this weird thing:

Ok so basically they live in a world where pirates of different kinds are a thing, so the world has more water than ours and many, many islands and treasure (and monsters). I keep thinking of Sea of Thieves and those types of pirate games. 

Anyway. 

Criken: a pirate who wears all black, probably to match the fact that he practices the dark arts (wicked magic). He lost his heart in a high stakes gambling match and is obsessed with searching to the ends of the world to find it again, as it is said to have been hidden away in a locked box among treasure. He’s the captain of a dark ship, and his crew seems as if their hearts were taken away too. 

Tomato: a pirate who wears all red, with a temper to match it. He is less obsessed with treasure than most pirates, but being a pirate is his chosen way of life, and treasure helps his ship stay afloat. And why quit doing what he does best? His ship is made of wood and metal, and there are rumors that his ship can fly. His crew fear him, and traitors never manage to get too far. There’s no escaping him. 

Buck: a pirate who commonly changes his outfit, always fickle with his fashion sense. Sometimes he’ll be clad in a cloak, other times he’ll be clad in animal fur (and sometimes he can be seen wearing a horned helmet, right before he smites a poor fool). Sometimes he’s the captain of a ship, other times he’ll work for anyone who will pay the highest. 

Bed: not a pirate, but a siren posing as a human who charmed his way into being perceived as royalty by a village by the shore. The village he made his home gets attacked by pirates (the other three perhaps), and he (being thought to be royalty by those pirates) gets chased. Far later, when his siren nature is revealed to the others, it is also revealed that sirens have knowledge on the location of treasure far and wide. And perhaps, know where Criken’s lost heart is located. 

So basically, the whole idea is that Bed is chased by pirates and it involves a lot of pirates fighting each other, betrayal, and sinking of ships (the culprit being Bed, who can summon a Kraken with enough energy). The other three don’t really get along at the start, all wanting to get to all the treasure first. I imagine it being very hectic overall, but with hints of comedy in it among all the looting and chasing (and swimming, I imagine sirens being able to grow fins underwater). 

AU is free to use for stuff! Just thought I’d share. I have other ideas about this but this is basically the general stuff for it! Like a guideline. Hope anyone reading this enjoyed the idea dump!