#loch ashie

[shieldofiron]

BODY LANGUAGE

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Jason Carver/Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Characters: Jason Carver, Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Wayne Munson

Additional Tags: Body Swap, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Jason Carver, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hawkins (Stranger Things), Bodyswap, Body Dysphoria, Secret Crush

Summary: Eddie had flipped around the radio and kept the music turned up to a scream to escape the anxiety rolling through his stomach. The closer and closer they got to Carver’s house in Loch Nora, the worse it got. What if they actually were swapped?

But it was impossible. No one switched bodies just by smoking weed. If you did, Regan would never shut up about that on the news.

But there was also that tree. He could still taste that awful sap or whatever it was at the back of his mouth, uniquely vile and ashy. And the sensitive spot on his neck kept bothering him. It must be an old sports injury or something. And there was his other self, chewing nails down to nubs in the car.

[whiskyblog]

Kilchoman Whisky Loch Gorm 2023 Edition

Named after the famous dark, peaty loch overlooked by the distillery, the annual limited bottling of Loch Gorm is the only regular edition to be matured entirely in oloroso sherry casks. A total of 22 casks were selected for the 2023 edition, eight from 2013, six from 2014, and eight from 2015.

Region : Islay 46 % alc./vol. 0,7l not chill-filtered Cask type : Ex-Oloroso sherry butts (22 casks). Nose : Notes of cocoa, black cherry, leather and subtle smoke. Palate : Toasted hazelnut, dark chocolate and baked dark fruit combine with ashy peat smoke. Finish : Long and harmonious, with fresh maritime notes and dark fruit. Limited to 18000 bottles

[pearlsplaidspistols]

Chapter Four: Loch Ashie

Jamie sends Claire thru the circle of standing stones atop Craigh na Dun. The Catch? Jamie somehow manages to go with her. The Double Catch? They find themselves in 1543, not 1948.

You can find previous chapters here.

Late May 1543; Loch Ashie, Just South of Inverness, Scotland. Claire.

We had left Marcus’ croft equipped with clothing, provisions, and a small purse of coins yesterday morning. Traveling overland by foot was slow going, but Jamie thought we’d reach Inverness within a few hours, well before nightfall. Our plan was to make a few connections within the city, find a decent horse to purchase with our meager gold, and then make our way to Broch Mordha.

I tossed a small pebble into the still waters of the loch, watching the surface ripple and settle back into complacency. It was warm for May and the sun was hot on my back. Lifting the thick plait off my neck, I let the gentle breeze refresh me.

Jamie seized the opportunity to place a kiss at the nape of my neck, his small scruff of a beard tickling the tender skin. I smiled as he murmured something in Gaelic in my ear. “I haven’t the slightest idea of what you just said, you know.”

“‘Tis easier to show ye than translate, Sassenach,” his voice was low as he pulled me onto his lap.

Movement on the loch caught my eye, and I spotted a distant boat. It was a small, rickety sort of thing. Two boys were fishing aboard it and one pointed in our direction.

“We have an audience,” I warned, not really wanting him to stop.

“Oh, aye,” he nibbled at my ear, apparently of the same mind. “Maybe we can teach them a trick or two.”

My lips found his as a giant splash sounded from the waters in front of us. One of the boys had gone overboard, judging by the solo voice taunting his friend. I paid them little heed and brought my arms around Jamie’s neck.

He suddenly tensed and pulled away as the voice’s tone changed from that of teasing to one of alarm. The boy was speaking in Gaelic, but a cry for help was universal. Jamie eased me off his lap, going to stand by the edge of the water.

A concerned question came from my husband and the answer made him hurriedly shed his kilt and boots.

“He can’t swim?” I asked as I stood and came beside him.

Jamie didn’t answer but plunged into the water. It was cold, judging by his reaction. The skiff was a good distance from the shore and it took Jamie longer than I liked for him to reach it.

What’s the fool doing on a boat in the middle of the loch if he couldn’t swim?

The boy had fallen off the far side of the boat and was hidden from view. Jamie rounded the bow of it, the sound of his movements masking those of the floundering boy’s. A few terse words were exchanged, presumably as they tried to decide if they could get the boy into the boat or if Jamie would need to swim back with him.  An attempt was made to hoist the boy back into the boat, but it resulted in the other boy joining Jamie in the water and the boat flipping over on top of the trio.

A cry of concern escaped my lips. What if the other boy couldn’t swim as well? Jamie couldn’t possibly haul the both of them back to shore without drowning himself.

The thought had me tearing off my shoes and wading into the water as three heads came into view, this side of the boat. One was Jamie’s. I mentally let out a sigh with relief as I propelled myself towards them, hip deep in the freezing water.

Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, it was cold.

Considerably taller than the Other Boy, Jamie’s feet hit the bottom of the loch first as they made their way towards me. He lifted The Boy into a better position and I could tell he was unconscious. Jamie’s eyes met mine, alarm shouting at me across the water.

Finally within reach, I grabbed hold of the Other Boy, shoving him towards the shore. Jamie was wading now and had The Boy cradled in his arms. His head hung limp, eyes wide and unseeing.

I raced to keep up with Jamie’s long strides, my sodden layers of skirts weighing me down.

“Lay him down on the shore, Jamie.” I instructed, just behind him.

He did so as Other Boy and I crowded around him. My fingers searched for a pulse in The Boy’s neck. It was there, weak and thready, but he wasn’t breathing. I tilted his chin up and forced my own breath into his lungs. I lurched back, hoping for an immediate response and not wanting to be in the way of the flow of his stomach contents.

He remained still and lifeless.

Again and again I repeated the action.

“Breathe, damn it.” I muttered under my breath.

With a jerk, The Boy came to life. I turned him onto his side as he vomited and coughed.

Other Boy pulled him into a sitting position and hugged him fiercely.

“We need to get him warm,” I turned to Jamie, who was panting beside me.

He nodded, squeezing my hand as he was unable to speak just yet. His eyes communicated his words as loudly as though he had spoken them aloud.

Well done, Sassenach.

I could catch snippets of the boys’ conversation as Jamie set about to make a fire, my Gaelic rudimentary at best.

Bràthair. Brother. Alasdair. Alexander. Uilleachan. Willie.

So, the two were brothers. Now that they were in front of me, I could see the resemblance. The older of the two, Other Boy as I had dubbed him, was apparently Alexander and the younger, Willie.

Willie was getting an earful as to what his mother would have done to Alexander if something should have happened to him. That much was clear and needed no translation.

Jamie returned and spoke to the boys in Gaelic, urging the two to sit near the fire.

He guided me to my feet and gathered me into his arms.

“Christ, Sassenach, yer hands are as cold as ice!” he exclaimed after I reached up to brush a wet curl out of his eyes.

My teeth clattered as I retorted, “You aren’t any warmer.”

He pulled me towards the now raging fire and started to unfasten my skirts. I grabbed at his hands, looking around him towards the boys who were definitely watching this interplay. They’re eyes were huge and mouths slightly agape.

Jamie followed my gaze and gave the boys an order. The two grinned, but eventually turned around, their backs towards us.

He cocked an eyebrow, nodding towards my sodden skirts. I rolled my eyes heavenward and grabbed my airisaid off the pile of packs and discarded clothing beside me. Offering it to my husband, I stammered, “H-hold this up.”

Dutifully obliging, he held did so as I tried to undress with trembling fingers.

“Having trouble, mo chridhe?” Jamie’s eyes twinkled as he peeked over my privacy screen. I glared at him and dropped my wool skirt to the ground with a loud squish. He nodded towards my pack, asking “Can ye reach yer other dress or should I move?”

“If you so much as move an inch, James Fraser,” I muttered, my lips thawed enough to speak coherently, “I just might throw you back into the loch.”

Marcus had given me his wife’s clothing, having been carefully packed away in a wooden chest after her death. They were too large about the waist, but were a decent fit.

They won’t be for long, I thought wryly. My layers of skirts and petticoats hid the small bump of our growing child, but soon it would be evident to all. Come autumn, the gifted wardrobe would be too small.

Jamie lowered the airisaid as I tied my bodice into place, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek. I took his face in my hands and kissed him right back. “Go sit by the fire, mo nighean donn. Yer still freezing,” he grinned.

I lowered myself onto a fallen log near the fire and basked in its warmth. Willie and Alexander turned to look at me, their eyes wary but filled with curiosity.

“Feeling better?” I asked Willie, smiling at him.

He returned the smile, glancing at Jamie and then back at me.

“He’s my husband.” I explained, not sure why I felt I needed to. “I’m Claire, by the way, what are your names?”

I already knew the answer to the question, having eavesdropped, but felt it was a good place to start a conversation.

The boys just stared at me.

Jamie spoke to them from where he was getting dressed. It was a question and both boys shook their heads.

“They dinna ken English, Sassenach,” he explained.

“Really?”

He shrugged, “The further we get into the Highlands, the more it will be so.”

“Any idea who they are?” I asked and sighed with fatigue.

Jamie made, what sounded like, a round of introductions. I caught the words bean-ch��ile, which I knew meant wife, and my name, followed by his.

James Fraser.

It was the surname we had agreed to go with. We were on Fraser lands, after all.

The name lit a torch of recognition in the boy’s eyes and I felt my heartbeat quicken. They hastily introduced themselves, Alexander and William. The name Fraser was tossed around between all three of them and finally Jamie turned to me in astonishment.

“They’re the Lord of Lovat’s sons, Claire.”

[thesleepiesthufflepuff]

Our Little Corner of the World

Harry had been driving for hours, McDonald’s wrappers littering the bottom of the car and a large bottle of Coke in the cupholder. He’d promised Hermione that he would eat decently enough on his journey to the top of Scotland, and he had no intention of telling her otherwise.

Last summer had been filled with mourning and recovery, the war having just ended. Harry had decided that he’d wanted something different this year ― something not filled with reminders of the aftermath ― and he figured some space from the world couldn’t hurt. On a whim, he’d picked the Scottish Highlands as the place where he wanted to spend the summer months, perhaps in hope of finding solace in the scenery that would look so much like that surrounding the grounds of Hogwarts.

After another long hour of driving, he finally reached the hill which the cottage was perched upon. As he drove up the dusty road, the house came into view. It was small ― smaller than Harry had expected ��� but was otherwise perfect. The deep teal of the house stood out against the clusters of colorful wildflowers dotting the hill. As he climbed out of the car, he could spot part of a loch he had passed before driving up the hill, its bright waters shimmering in the pale sunlight.

Harry wandered towards the house, knowing he was to meet the owner of the house to go over rental rules when he arrived.

He let out a breath and knocked.

“Come on in! Door’s open,” a voice hollered.

Harry frowned. It couldn’t be.

Cautiously, he pushed the door open and walked through the threshold. Passing the living room, which looked like it would suit him just fine, he wandered into the kitchen. There, standing before him, was a slim figure with ashy blonde hair, shuffling papers on the kitchen table.

Harry stared. “Malfoy?”

Draco looked up, shock falling across his face. “Potter?”

*written and drawn for the September drarry discord drabble challenge. The word count was 325 and the art challenge was inverted colors <3

[underwood1923]

May 1st | Ghost Calendar ‘At dawn a phantom army fights desperately but silently on the shores of Loch Ashie, Inverness-shire; it was the one day of the year that a secret door near Llyn Cwm Llwch in the Brecon Beacons opened to admit mortals to fairyland; and girls dressed in white offered garlands to the fairies of a well on the slopes of Schiehallion, the Fairy Hill of the Caledonians, at the east end of Rannoch Moor, Perthshire. On South Walsham Broad, Norfolk, a Viking funeral is said to take place, with the Vikings’ boat in the middle of the Broad, piled high with faggots, blazing against the night sky. As the ship burns to the waterline, the whole vision vanishes...’

The Ghost Hunter’s Guide Google Map

Audible UK | US | Trailer | Kindle Unlimited: UK / US

peterunderwood.org

[writerwaage]

Entry Two 1:56 pm 10/22

It took a lot of convincing, but Jonnie finally agreed to write down their experience with The Creature. I’m taking them out for dinner tonight as a thank you. 

general content warning for horror. warning for images of a school burning down, but not graphic. if you think there needs to be a content warning for something not listed, please let me know!

Let me be clear about this. I DO NOT believe in this “Creature” Adelaide is so certain exists. I’m not trying to be a bad partner or unsupportive, it’s not like that. I just think that everything she’s told me chalks up to be nothing more than a boogeyman, a shadow children get spooked by when they know that they haven't been behaving. Hell, when I first even told Addy about this, it was during a camping trip with our other friends. I didn’t think she’d take it any more seriously than she would take a kid crying about their shadow. 

I was a kid myself when I had my “experience.” Ten years old. I was walking home from school - my house was just down the road, so don’t think it was that big of a deal. It was the dead of winter, so the sky was already starting to darken. The branches filtered the low light and casted twisting shadows along the sidewalk, covering all the drawings made by the other kids who doodled over the weekend. I enjoyed looking at all the pictures when it was earlier in the year, but the lighting and shadows made them look off, somehow. 

One drawing in particular seemed to be highlighted, or rather framed by the dark. It was a lot more sinister than the others. Below my feet was a kind of shit drawing of the school on fire. You know how young kids don’t really have the finest of control over their hands, so lines never appear straight and colors bleed out of the lines drawn for them. The oddest bit, looking back on it, was that I never could cast a shadow on the picture. The branches above me did, but not me. Just two feet away, there was a dark halo on the sidewalk where my hair would be, but the drawing was just as lit as the rest of the sidewalk. As a kid I never paid that much attention, and I hesitate bringing it up here because Addy will make it a bigger deal than it actually is. It was just a weird moment, and it could have totally been from light reflecting off something metal and showing up on the sidewalk in that particular spot.

I went straight home and didn’t give it too much thought after that. I was a kid, and it was cold. I was just happy to be home and watch cartoons while mom fixed dinner. When dad got home, we put some logs into the fireplace and I curled up against his chest as he read me part of my newest favorite book. I remember being the most comfortable there, reading by the fire. The warmth of the flame and comfort of being held by my dad is still something I look back on and remember as the best moments of my childhood. 

The next morning, I got up and it was freezing cold. Colder than most days. I was practically shivering all morning as I got ready for school, even though the heating was on and I was bundled up warm. Mom almost kept me home, thinking I was sick. But I insisted I felt fine, that I was just cold. I wish I had listened to her.

Mom walked me to school, just like she always did, taking me down the same path I took to go home. Although I wasn’t actively looking for it, the picture of the school burning down had completely disappeared. It hadn’t rained overnight, and all the others were still perfectly intact. Maybe someone had come by to wash that one off, I don’t know. People, grown-ups, probably would have found it just as creepy as I had. And with it being so close to the school… It wasn’t the best look. 

Most of the day went by without a problem. Completely average. Once it was time for my math lessons, though, I felt strangely warm. It wasn’t like it was coming from having a fever. Instead, it felt more like heat radiating toward me. I was far from the vents, and it was cold only moments earlier. I looked around, to see if anyone had felt the same things I had felt, but no one seemed anything more than just frustrated that it was time to switch to math. I tried to shrug it off, but it was distracting.

I placed the heat as the same sort that I felt when I was extra close to the fireplace, and that was what bothered me the most. I looked up from my worksheet and glanced around the room, even to my own backpack to see if something, if anything, had suddenly caught fire. Some kid even asked if the heating could go any higher. The longer I went, the more the heat became unbearable. I pushed up my sleeves, pulled my hair up off my neck, and sweat dripped down the side of my forehead.

The fire alarm began to ring, and the room went icy. I looked to my teacher, who seemed completely thrown off. This wasn’t a planned drill, apparently. He was good at keeping calm though, and had us line up, just like it was part of the day. I grabbed my coat off the back of my chair and hugged it close. It smelled like smoke.

Outside, the rest of the teachers looked just as confused and concerned as mine did. Us students kept looking back at the building, wondering what we would see, wondering if it was scheduled and no one told us, or if it were a genuine one. Smoke began to billow up from the building, filling the pale blue sky with ashy grey. My stomach sank as I remembered the drawing I had seen the afternoon before. Did someone try to attack the school? Could I have stopped it if I told someone about the picture? 

My mind was thrusted back into the moment when the sound of fire trucks came wailing in. After everything was said and done, only a few classrooms had gotten severe damage. What was odd, they said, was that a strange, goopy black had been seen down the halls, connecting the burnt rooms and the entrance, even where there wasn’t any sign of damage. My mom kept me home from school for a while, even after I was sure I was fine. The entire ordeal was ruled an accident. No one could find the source of the fire, though. No fuel, either. 

I never said anything about the drawing to anyone, excepting those friends at the campsite when we were sharing our creepy stories. I hadn’t even expected them to take it seriously, and they didn’t, though Addy could see right through it. She brought it up again that night when we were about to go to sleep, then she told her own story about the growling in her closet. I thought it was stupid to connect those two things as anything more than young people imagining things and altering the past, and I told her that. But clearly, she doesn’t agree with me here. She’s convinced that she’s on to something, something more probable than the loch ness monster or whatever monster it is people freak out about.

I never knew the full extent of Jonnie’s experience. They’ve never given this much detail when talking about it before, and I feel more certain now that these two events are connected. They mentioned something about a “black goop” that sounds similar to how I remember The Creature looking in my own experience.

 Does it leave behind parts of itself often? Or did it get injured somehow in the fire? Whatever it is, I think it wanted to warn Jonnie, or someone, about the fire. Why? And what capabilities does it have to cause physical damage? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! if you feel so inclined, please leave me a message, ask, or reply with any sort of feedback!

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Tags: @howdy-writes @ezrathings @pigeon-hold @writerofthecosmos

[harringroveheart]

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT // READ ON AO3

Run, he thinks— Billy, thinks, in the parking lot of the Starcourt Mall.

Run.

If he could, he would.

He puts his foot on the gas, the engine thudding underneath him, growling, vibrating in his bones: a threat and a warning.

Max looks scared. She doesn’t scare easy,  but that’s how she looks. He can’t see that far – can he? – but he’s looking at the ashy pallor of her, the whites of her eyes. It’s hard to remember now. Who she is.

Run, Max, he thinks, with everything that’s left of him.

But also. Just faintly.

Help me.

***

Help me. Like the quietest voice in a crowd.

He doesn’t deserve it.

The words are the sounds of his fists against some other kid’s cheek. The sound he made when his dad threw him into the side table and he lost time. His fists on Steve Harrington. The wet sound he made when Billy hit him when he was gone already. The sound of his mouth smacked open under Billy’s knuckles and the feel of it too.

He understands that she doesn’t hear.

He doesn’t care. Not really. It’s so cold, where he is. And he doesn’t want her here.

But he’s so scared too. And so lost.

It’s a monster, Max, he thinks, foot on the pedal, knuckles bulging white on the steering wheel. The world rends apart on the sound of the car roaring, the world narrowing and coming to the fore.

I knew, he thinks. I knew I was a monster but I’m not this, Max. I’m not. Please.

Please.

Please, believe me.

***

He learned it early: no one is coming to rescue you.

It was just— A childish hope. Something he should have stomped on like a weed.

Like all those nights under his bed, on the threadbare carpet full of ash, curled up around the phone, pathetic, snotty, waiting.  

No one comes. Not for Billy.

***

“I’m sorry,” he says, and maybe he means it.

Is he dying? Max is so far away and so grown up, all of a sudden. Such beautiful red hair and such a serious face.

The mall is kind of beautiful too. And if he had his time again, he would go to the food court, to get ice cream and to see Harrington squirm, and to see him in the sailor suit, like all the girls in Hawkins talk about.

God. God, it hurts so much to be good. He wishes he’d been bad and been wrong and taken what he wanted instead of being what was strong. He wishes he’d bitten his lip clean through and not cried when Neil beat him the first time – with a belt, and he wishes he’d said something to Tommy H, too, when he asked him, You here to shake things up? Take on King Steve? He wishes he’d said no.

No, I want to breathe. No, I want to live like you do, right in my skin. And I want to tear out of here one day with all of it in the rearview mirror, and a pretty boy to look at in the passenger seat who I maybe sometimes let pick the music, and the smell of gasoline and a summer sky ahead.

But he didn’t and he doesn’t. And he won’t get a chance to, now. He’s dying.

He’s the bad guy.

He dies.

***

It hurt so bad the first time.

He screamed so hard and no one came. Don’t be a pussy, his dad always says and he’s trying so hard not to be but it’s—

Inside him. It takes over so fast. He’s always been such a fighter but there’s no fight in him for this.

What do you want, he screams, the whole world turned upside down and rank with the smell of fear, his body raw all over with adrenaline, his brain shrieking, turning over and over like a starter motor failing to catch, the high whine of panic – wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up.

What do you want, it asks.

It’s slick, heavy, overwhelming. It’s in his throat, behind his eyes.

What do you want, Billy?

Show me.

***

“You okay, in there, Hargrove?” Harrington asks. He smooths a hand over Billy’s forehead, threads fingers into his hair until he has his attention. “Thought I’d lost you for a second.”

They’re in the food court bathrooms. The color makes him dizzy, hurts his eyes.

“What were you saying?” Something about colleges…

“I was asking you if you thought it was a good idea – me staying on for another year until you finish school.”

Billy smirks, remembering he has hands with which to touch. He sneaks his fingers into the band at the back of thosenridiculous uniform shorts. Harrington gasps, looking around nervously as the sound echoes off the tiles. It’s the middle of the day but the bathroom is empty. Billy knows without needing to look.

“You gonna save up? Buy me a nice big house in Loch Nora with all that ice-cream money, baby?”

Harrington squirms, cheeks turning rosy. “I just…don’t want to leave you, okay? You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

“That’s kind of my default,” Billy says, a little distracted by the way Harrington is grinding against him just slightly, his hips moving into Billy’s hands even has he gets his arms up between them, pushing Billy back.

“Got to get back to my shift,” he says, breathy and annoyed.

“You free later?” Billy asks, because he’s hopeless.

“Yeah,” Harrington says, and kisses him, sharp and nasty, pinching Billy’s bottom lip between his teeth so hard it makes his eyes water. He backs out of the stall looking cocky as hell, winking even as Billy rubs a hand over his smarting mouth. “Come find me, okay?”

Of course. Always. Of course, he will.

***

The radio is playing his favorite song. Perfect timing. Max is mortified. She reaches over to change it but he slaps her hand away. 

They’re taking the same road they drove into Hawkins on – behind the U-Haul and Neil’s truck. Back then the drive had been silent - too sick on the taste of his own tears down the back of his throat. But it’s different now. They’re happy. And he can usually find metal on any station.  

“Ugh, why do you always have to listen to this.”

“Can’t help it if they’re playing my song, Max,” he says, cranking the volume, tapping out the shred of the guitar on the wheel only to rile her up.

The countryside flies past his window – yellow, green, blue. Trees, fields, power lines.

“Where are we going?”

Dumb question.

Wherever they want.

“Wherever your heart desires, shitbird,” he says. “Sinclair can even come too.”

She rolls her eyes. “As if he’d get in the car with you. You drive like a psycho.” But she says, “Let’s go to the pool.”

“Good idea,” he says.

Maybe today’s the day he’ll get to practice mouth-to-mouth on Harrington. He turns the car around sharply, riding up on the shoulder and spraying dirt in their wake.

The drive to the pool is straightforward – the turn off for the lake, the Fair Mart, more trees, the—

He slams on the brakes.

“What the hell, Billy?”

He doesn’t know. It’s just. There’s nothing there. He stares at the empty patch. A gap in the trees, the grass stamped down to nothing, the leaning tangle of an old wire fence. A scrap piece of corrugated tin roof. He feels suddenly cold, all over.

“Billy, come on,” Max says.

“I’m…” he says. “I think I’m lost.”

She scoffs. “Are you kidding? The pool is like, two minutes from here. Let’s just get back on the road.”

He looks at her and then back at the…absence of a place. It gnaws at him. “I thought there was something else here.”

“Let’s just go, Billy. There’s nothing there.”

There should be, though. He puts his hand on the door latch and Max grabs him by the shoulder.

“Don’t.”

The sun is going down. There are shadows on the ground with nothing to cast them. Something that skitters, in the corners of his eyes.

“There’s nothing there.” He doesn’t believe her.  “Billy,” she says again, more urgently. “There’s nothing there.”

***

“You ever been surfing?” he asks, spread out on the bonnet of his car, the metal so warm against his skin it should hurt. The air tastes like gunpowder. What time are the fireworks, again? He wants to ask. But he forgets the answer every time. It’s not important.

“Nah,” Harrington says. “No beaches in Hawkins.”

Billy almost rolls his eyes. There could be. Harrington has a limited imagination.

“We could go to Cali?” he asks, not looking at him, looking at the first scatter of stars where they start just above the haze of sunset. “When all this—when I’m done with school. I’ll take you and Max somewhere we can go to the beach every day.”

“You just want to see me in a bikini,” Harrington says.

“Is that less degrading than your scoops suit?”

“Depends what you do to me in it,” Harrington says, eyes mischievous, rolling the words out around a breath of smoke.

“No,” Billy says, suddenly sick with upset. “He wouldn’t say it like that.”

And when he turns to look again, Harrington is looking up at the stars, smiling. Was never smoking at all.  

Billy reaches out to tuck just a little bit of his hair behind his ear, just to make him perfect.

“What are we waiting for, again?” Harrington asks.

“Fireworks.”

“Oh yeah. I told the others to meet us here. They should be here soon.”

“What time did you tell them it starts?”

“Who cares?” Harrington says. “I like having you all to myself.”

“Do you?” Billy asks. “You’re not bored here?”

Harrington’s eyes sparkle. “With you? Relax, man. Lie back and look at some stars with me.” He slips his hand alongside Billy’s until Billy relents, lets him tangle their fingers together, pulling until Billy’s lying down next to him, looking up at the stars in the sky. There are too many of them. “Now, say something romantic,” Harrington says, squeezing.

“I’m not good at that,” Billy says, licking his dry lips and counting. There are definitely way too many of them. “I’m not good. At anything.”

He can feel Harrington rolling his eyes. “I’m sure there’s something.”

He thinks about it.

“You ever been surfing?”

***

“I never thought I’d find a way out from all the monsters. I never thought I could just be happy,” Harrington says, looking at him with his big lamb eyes. Billy’s in love with him. Billy’s happy too.

They undress each other in the dark. Touch mouths. Harrington is too rough and too hungry and Billy doesn’t mind disappearing inside him.

“What’s this?” Harrington says after, tucked in along his side like a girl, like he didn’t just nail Billy so hard into his bed it had him crying. His fingers stroke over his arm, coming away dark and wet.

“Don’t worry about it, princess,” Billy says, pressing their lips back together, kissing his eyes closed. “You’re dreaming. ”

***

Hawkins. It’s a warm night and promising. There’s a phone booth, somewhere, with the light on, like something he can only remember if he tries real hard.

Tonight he’s forgotten.

It feels like he’s on the edge of the world. The engine purring, the steering wheel solid and real in his hands. He could go anywhere. He could follow the long string of lights out of town, drive until he hits the coast. He’ll never need to stop for gas.

He turns around.

***

What do you want, Billy?

It hurts right up until it doesn’t.

***

It’s a fresh night, cold and clean. Billy’s tired. He’s been driving all night. And longer. But it doesn’t matter, not anymore. The lights are on in the Byers house, like he knew they would be.

He closes his eyes and when he opens them, he’s home.

He gets out of the car. Leans on the door, smiling.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”

[ossian-bard]

The Forgotten Color (1st draft)

By: Ryley Hendricks

It is in only in my final hour upon this mortal coil do I find myself penning this, lest my friends and family fall for my same follies. I do not expect you nor others to believe this inscrutable tale that I'm about to divulge. Because even I find these words perturbed when absorbed by the sane mind. But nevertheless harken now and know this, from hence forth, all you read will be nothing but the staunch unsettling truth.

It began on a cold autumn morning; frigid clouds had sunk down with a thick eerie fog that draped the wild murk woods of west Arkham, Massachusetts. The pristine hardwoods, that have gone without knowing the touch of an axe for millenniums, were all now in a brilliant show of wondrous iridescence. Amongst those towering moss laden trees were the occasional skeletal remains of foreigners and the caving cottages of old farmers who long since pushed off for one reason or another. Many people have came and went though throughout the long history of those woods you see, while some left due to the re-imagining of Arkham most had left due in part to something else. Something that can't be seen or heard or scantly comprehended. Something that sends it's tap root tendrils deep into the imagination, soiling the dreams of restful sleepers. In fact the town’s mayor knew of these stories and used it for marketing to much success for Arkham.

Indeed, October was the month for Arkham. I hadn't been in the town for more than a month doing temp work for the local mayor's office while they transferred over from a old archive system of

It was the time of the year where they saw the greatest throngs of sight seers coming in with bulging pocketbooks and stretched bill folds. Women and children hearing the spooky stories that surround the small town and were enthralled with the rumors of unusual death that oozed in every dark nook of the city. Such strange stories the natives spoke of; trees moving against the wind, insects staying active even in the winter months, or the occasional strange gray mold like substance that could be found here or there. All of it seemed so childlike in its simplicity of haunting mannerisms, like children telling other children what scares them around the campfire. That's how I felt listening to everyone gab on and on about the history of the town.

It grew darker here sooner than anywhere else I've been. The hours went unaccounted for and the next thing my inebriated mind could manage was that this gnarled driftwood of a man’s face as he plopped down right in front of me. His face was of creased and well worn numerous wrinkles of worry, but striking me with a sobering clarity was this man’s eyes. Deep and chillingly dark like the bottom of a well, he looked straight at me without a hint of feeling. As if he was seeing something beyond me in another corner of the room, so much so that I turned to see what it could be that he was looking at but I saw nothing unusual. He grabbed my forearm with a solid clasp and without taking his dreary eye off that corner of the room he began in a subterranean whisper of a voice. At first his words didn’t make much to the way of sense, babbling about some scorched soil and tainted earth that came from some alien seed that came clamoring down to earth one fateful night. But what eventually got my attention was the mentioning of a father who killed his three sons and drove his wife to madness because the earth had gone sour supposedly. Saying things to everyone with ears about how the trees moved with some supernatural color and how it killed his livestock in a gray ashy plague. This bridge troll of a man proceed to spindle this story about how it started to make the whole hillside grow in a cancerous way. How men came from the city and local college to examine the surround woods and the remains of the family but how soon no one even dare approach the farm as it soon became known as something called the blasted heath. It was then that I asked of what became of this place and the seed, he shook his head and revealed a pamphlet with a town map from the visitor center from a cargo pocket of his stained army jacket. There he took his osseous finger tip and poked a hole straight through the pamphlet, right through the middle of the lake. Exclaiming “Right here, in the deepest slimiest depth resides the only thing that may give even hint of what happened to the old Gardner place...” after which last call sounded from the countertop of the bar calling for the rank and file of the people to shuffle out of the bar and into the autumn chill. Taking once glance away and then looking back to where the old codger sat and saw nothing in his seat.

At first I thought it some macabre machination of a mind left to listlessness, a paragon of people seeking refuge in the fanciful worlds of imagination. But it had been so long since I’ve heard such a interesting and hauntingly amusing tale that thoughts of being around the campfire for it’s retelling made it tantalizing. So with an unfettered curiosity sparked by this superficial aversion and despite the numerous warnings of evil (and admittedly encouraged by alcohol's false bravado). I immediately made underway for the reservoir. Following the pamphlet map and the only overgrown washed out road further north, I hiked for almost rest of the night and then into the morning. Noticing that with every step I took though, the forest was growing more and more unsettlingly still. Perchance this was nothing more than the hard liquors settling in like a bad stomach ache but I felt the stupor evaporate off me in the cold night air. At that moment it seemed that the further I pursued northwards the more the more the trees became grotesque. The wood grew too thickly and the trunks too gnarled and stunted for any healthy New England wood. Even the sounds of smaller feeder creaks that bubbled down the hills had slowly faded out with seemingly. No bird song in the naked tree tops, no rustling amongst the fallen leaves and even my own steps growing duller in time. The deeper I ventured the more the woods seemed to invite me in, with the impervious coppice becoming easier and easier to navigate. Granting passage further and further inland until before me stood that blackened watery bruise; Arkham Lake.

God almighty, I will never forget in all my days that stygian loch of human engineering. Arriving just as the rays of morning light were being choked out behind the massive swell of craggy bluffs off to the west. I found my perch on the southern most ridge that overlooked the sprawling valley which housed the massive lake. Daring not to take another step inwards, I strained my eyes to look out over into the inky basin. First thing that bombarded my senses was the putrid smell. Those 25 solid miles of noxious water reeked of rotting things, even from a great distance away. Instantly I understood why the people in town knew little to nothing about the lake. Just upon looking upon its expanse you felt that something was off and alarms in your head soon followed saying that something was not quite right. That there was something in those blacken waters and should probably remain there. The whole entirety of the water was enough to make my face distort with disgust as the smell coated the tongue with a leathery taste. With pebbly shorelines stained from the fetid waters rolling in as if lake was an ink well. Gray grainy dust blanketed the landscape surrounding the lake like a sickly film which seemed to cling to any purchase or exposed surface. Grass surrounding the beach was blackened and brittle, matchstick trees withered like recently emancipated Jews in concentration camps. The water itself was like a placid mirror reflecting the vacuous ocean of emptiness above; an unblemished glass of ebonite fathoms that sent a slimy slither down your shambling vertibre.

(Still very much in progress but wanted to just cast it out in the cosmos and see what dredged up)

[myth-lord]

Mythology Monster List

This is a list of monsters that aren’t in Mythika/project but which I still want to share with you guys. 

If you want to search for the creatures on google always put Myth or Mythology behind the name. Or the country the myth is from. 

For the master-list of all mythological monsters in my project visit my Deviantart: http://gancanagh22.deviantart.com/art/Huge-List-of-Monsters-from-Mythology-Cryptid-Folk-676838454 

Ababil (Arabian) - Giant Birds which drop Flaming Bricks Abada (African) – Small Unicorn Abarimon (M-European) - Fast Cannibals with Backward Feet  Abatwa (African) – Ant Sized Humans Abura-Bo (Japanese) – Fire Elemental Monk Adar Llwch Gwin (Welsh) – Griffon Species Adhene (Manx) – Selfish Fairy Aegipan (A-Greek) - Water Satyr or Goat  Aeternae (M-European) - Saw Horned Antelope or Giant  Aetos (A-Greek) – Giant Organ Eating Bird Aghasura (Hindu) – Giant Serpent Agloolik (Inuit) Agrius (A-Greek) – Half Bear Half Giant Aije (Brazilian) – Giant Tadpole Airavata (Hindu) Akashita (Japanese) – Cloud Creature Alan (Philippine) – Male Harpy Albastor (Russian) – Disease Giant Alphyn (Ireland) Alu (Sumerian) Alukah (Hebrew) – Vampire Leech Amazone (A-Greek) – Warrior Women Amikiri (Japanese) Animalito (Spanish) Anzu (Sumerian) – Storm Griffon Aoandon (Japanese) Lantern Woman AoAo (Paraguay) - Sheep or Peccari Humanoid Apep (Egyptian) - World Eating Snake  Araganaqlta’a (Argentinean) – Rainbow Serpent Centipede   Archelous (A-Greek) - Water Shapeshifter God  Arkan Sonney (Manx) - Lucky Pig  Arrach (Scottish) – Invisible Creature of the Mountains Asena (Turkish) – Blue Wolf Ashi-Magari (Japanese) – Invisible Ooze Creature Asipatra (Hindu) – Sharp Feathered Bird Asrai (English) – Water Fairy Atomy (M-European) – Smallest of Faeries Attorcroppes (Germany) – Snake Faeries Atui Koro Ekashi (Japanese) – Bag of the Sea Aun Pana (Brazilian) – Giant Piranha with Arms Aunyaina (Brazilian) – Boar Gorilla Bogey Aziza (African) – Dark Skinned Fairy Azure Dragon (Chinese)

Bai Ze (Chinese) Bakru (Surinam) – Twin Wood Gnome BalBal (Philippine) Basajaun (Basque) – Hairy Ogre Bas Celik (Turkish) – Steel Angel Bastet (Egyptian) – Cat Goddess Baxbakwalanuxsiwae (Native American) – Ogre Covered in Mouths Bean Nighe (Irish) – Washer Woman Beast of the Apocalypse (Biblical) Beathach Mor Loch Odha (Scottish) – Many Legged Water Horse Beithir (Scottish) - D&D Behir Biasd Na Srogaig (Scottish) – Long Legged Water Unicorn Billdad (Fearsome Critter) – Beaver Rabbit Chimerae Bishop Fish (M-European) Bitoso (Romanian) – Child of Ana Black Howler (North American) - Horned Panther and Bear Hybrid Black Tamanous (Native American) -  Tarry Cannibal Spirit  Bluecap (Scottish) Bodach (Irish) – Ash and Chimney Bogeyman Bogeyman (Worldwide) Boggart (English) Bolla (Albanian) – Evolving Dragon Bonnacon (M-European) - Burning Shit Bovine Boobach (Welsh) – Small Bogeyman Boo Hag (Caribbean) - Skinless Night Hag  Boroboroton (Japanese) – Animated Blanket Bosch (French) – Cursed Sailors Bane Blob Brownie (English) Bruckee (Irish) – Giant Fae Badger Buwaya (Philippine) – Crocodile with Coffin on Back Byakko (Chinese) – White Tiger

Caladrius (M-European) Camacrusa (French) – Undead Leg Camelopard (M-European) – Giraffe Capcaun (Romanian) – Bridge Toll Troll Capelobo (Brazilian) – Were Anteater Cauchemar (French) – Dream Haunting Nightmare Creature Cercopes (A-Greek) – Twin Monkey People Cernunnos (Celtic) - God of the Forests Cervitaur (Native American) – Deer Centaur Ceryneian Hind (A-Greek) Chamrosh (Persian) – Dog Griffon Changeling (M-European) Chenoo (Native American) – Ice Giant Cheshire Cat (Literature)   Chickcharny (Bahamas) – Long Legged Owl of Fortune Chindi (Native American) – Dust Devil Chipfalamfula (African) – Fish with Ecosystem in Body Chochinobake (Japanese) – Animated Lantern Chrysomallus (A-Greek) – Golden Ram Circe (A-Greek) Cliff Ogre (Native American) Cretan Bull (A-Greek) – Fire Breathing Bull Cuca (Brazilian) – Crocodile Hag Cuegle (Spanish) Cynocephaly (M-European) – Dog Folk  

Daguk (Malay) – Hantu Spirit of Mist Dakuwaqa (Fiji) – Shark God Devouring Gourd (African) - Monstrous Fruit  Dhampir (Balkan) – Half Human Half Vampire Dodo (African) – Swallower Big Mouth Domovoi (Slavic) Drac (French) – River Drake Dulhath (Arabian) – Ostrich Riding Ogre Dungavenhooter (Fearsome Critter) – Club Tail Snuff Snout Crocodile Duphon (French) – Sword Owl Duwende (Philippine)

El Cadejo (Mexican) – Twin Hounds one Black and one White Emere (African) Enfield (Ireland) Entulla (M-European) – Very wild Antelope Epiales (A-Greek) – Nightmare Spirit Eros/Cupid (A-Greek) Erote (Roman)

Faduah (Jewish) – Plant Man Fastachee (Native American) FengHuang (Chinese) – Peacock Creature Fetch (Irish) – Doppelganger Fideal (Scottish) – Evil Water Humanoid Fiura (Chilean) – Male assaulting Female Gnome Flaga (M-European) Flydrumodir (Iceland) – Halibut Mother Flying Rods (Worldwide) Foo Dog/Lion (Chinese) Forneus (Demonology) – Evil Water Demon Prince Fuath (Scottish) – Evil Water Spirit Funa-Yurei (Japanese) – Ghost Crew

Galtzagorri (Spanish) – Very fast working Gnome Garuda (Hindu) Genderuwo (Indonesian) – King Kong sized Sasquatch Ghillie Dhu (Scottish) – Moss Covered Leshy Ghole (Arabian) – Long Necked, One Eyed Hairy Vampire Gigelorum (Scottish) – Smallest Creature on Earth Glaistig (Scottish) – Vampiric Goat Legged Woman Glasthyn (Manx) – Water Bull Grotesque (French) – More brutal Gargoyle Gryla (Iceland) – Giant Hag Guaraiba-Boia (Brazilian) – Howler Monkey Snake Guardian Angel (Biblical) Gudiao (Chinese) – Unicorn Bird Gullinbursti (Norse) – Golden Boar Gwyllion (Welsh) Gylou (A-Greek) – Child Hating Female Demon

Haakapainizi (Native American) Hagondes (Native American) – Evil Clown with hooked nose Hahakigami (Japanese) – Animated Broomstick Hamadryad (A-Greek) – Greater Dryad Hercinia Bird (Germany) – Bird that gives light in the dark Herensuge (Basque) – Hydra Hieracosphinx (Egyptian) – Griffon Meets Sphinx Hippogriff (M-European) Hobgoblin (Scottish) Homunculus (M-Alchemy) Hoop Snake (Fearsome Critters) Hopkins Goblin (Modern Alien) Hrimfaxi (Norse) – Ice and Moon Horse Huayramama (Peru) – Wind Snake Mother Huginn & Muninn (Norse) Huitzilopochtli (Aztec) – Hummingbird God of War Huldra (Scandinavian) Hydrus (M-European)

Ikiryo (Japanese) – Envy Spirit Ikuchi (Japanese) – Oil Leaking Sea Serpent Imoogi/Imugi (Korean) Indombe (African) – Copper Snake Inkanyamba (African) Ipotane (A-Greek) – Horse Man Isitwalangcengce (African) – Basket Headed Hyena Ismenian Dragon (A-Greek)

Jaculus (M-European) Jengu (African) – Dark Skinned Mermaid Jenny Haniver (M-European) JubJub Bird (Literature)

Kabandha (Hindu) – Gigantic Blemmyes Kali (Hindu) – Multi Armed Goddess Kallikantzaroi (M-Greek) – Christmas Woodcutter Goblin Kasai Rex (African) Katthveli (Iceland) – Evil Whale Keelut (Inuit) – Hairless Dog Keres (A-Greek) Khryseos & Argyeos (A-Greek) – Silver and Gold Construct Dogs Kigatilik (Inuit) – Ice Demon Kijimunaa (Japanese) – Bright Red Haired Halfling Kikiyaon (African) – Owlman Killmouilis (Scottish) Kirin/Qilin (Chinese) Kodama (Japanese)   Kokopelli (Native American) – Insect Guy with Music Instrument Korrigan (Breton) Kuchisake-Onna (Japanese) – Slit-Mouthed Woman Kuda-Gitsune (Japanese) – Pipefox Kwamang-A (African) – Rainbow Elemental Kyokotsu (Japanese) – Water Well Undead Spirit Kyut (Burmese) – Armadillo Dwarf

Laelaps (A-Greek) Laestrygonian (A-Greek) – Skinning Giants   La Sayona (Venezuela) Lammasu (Sumerian) Lambton Worm (English) – Well Dwelling Worm Lange Wapper (Belgian) – Shapeshifting Giant Lebraude (French) Lemure (Roman) Lolmischo (Romanian) – Child of Ana Longma (Chinese) – Dragon Horse Lunantishee (English) – Thorny Fairy Lung Dragons (Chinese) – Tianlong, Shenlong Lupeux (French) Lyngbakur (Iceland) – Evil Whale

Mad Gasser (North American) Mahamba (African) – Mosasaurus Cryptid Makalala (African) – Secretary Bird Cryptid Makara (Hindu) – Elephant Crocodile Snake Hybrid Maltese Tiger (Asian Cryptid) – Blue Tiger Mamlambo (African) – Bioluminescence Plesiosaurus   Mares of Diomedes (A-Greek) Marid (Arabian) Mastopogon (Brazilian) – Giant Fish Mboi Tui (Paraguay) – Parrot Headed Snake Melusine (French) – Double Tailed Mermaid Dragon Woman Metee-Kolen (Native American) – Ice Wizard Mhalla (Maltese) – Well Bogey Mimi (Australian) – Very Thin Humanoids Mi-Ni-Wa-Tu (Native American) – Red Horned Lake Monster Minceskro (Romanian) – Child of Ana Minka Bird (Australian) – Dream Haunting Bird Monaciello (Italian) Monoceros (M-European) – Ordinary Unicorn Monster of Loch Ness (Scottish) Morrigan (Irish) Moskitto (Fearsome Critter) – Giant Mosquito Muse (A-Greek) Mushveli (Iceland) – Evil Whale Myling (Scandinavian) – Small Child Undead

Nauthveli (Iceland) – Evil Whale Nephilim (Biblical) – Half God Nereid (A-Greek) – Fresh Water Nymph Nian (Chinese) – Unicorn Lion Ningen (Antarctic) – Big White Sea Aberration   Ningyo (Japanese) – Small Mermaid Nix (Scandinavian) – Small Water Fairy Norn (Norse) Numhyalikyu (Native American) – Giant Beach Imposing Fish Nunda (African) Nurarihyon (Japanese) – Lord of all Yokai with Enormous Brain

Oboroguruma (Japanese) – Animated Chariot Oceanid (A-Greek) – Salt Water Nymph Okpe (Chilean) – Rock Pig Ogre Omikuma (Japanese) – Bear Yokai Oni (Japanese) Onryo (Japanese) – Tortured Spirit The Ring The Grudge Ophiotaurus (A-Greek) Oread (A-Greek) – Mountain and Rock Nymph Otosis (Native American) – Magic using Lizardman

Pal-Rai-Yuk (Inuit) Pan (A-Greek) Panotti (M-European) – Giant Ear Folk Pareas (Roman) – Healing Poison Snake Pech (Scottish) Pegasus (A-Greek) Penanggalan (Malay) Peri (Persian) – Angel Peteu (French) – Giant Parakeet Pilou (French) – Knocker Fae Pixie (M-European) Ponaturi (Australian) – Water Gremlin Poreskoro (Romanian) – Child of Ana Prester (Roman) – Fire Poison Snake Pugot (Philippine) – Headless Giant with Mouth in Neck Python (A-Greek)

Qasogonaga (Argentinean) – Rainbow Anteater   Qiongqi (Chinese) – Winged Tiger Qiqirn (Inuit) – Bald Dog Quinotaur (French) – Five Horned Water Bull

Rainbow Serpent/Julunggali (Australian) Ramidreju (Spanish) – Green Weasel Boar with Long Body Rangda (Bali) – Evil Voodoo Hag Rarog (Slavic) – Evil Fire Bird or Dwarf Revenant (French) Rock Swallows (Native American) – Swarm of Hard Feathered Swallows Romsiwamnari (Brazilian) – Scissor Beak Bat Bird Rumtifusel (Fearsome Critter) – Jacket Monster

Saci (Brazilian) – One Legged Trickster Sapo Fuerzo (Chilean) – Strong Toad Sasquatch/Bigfoot (North American Cryptid) Satori (Japanese) – Telepathic Mountain Monkey Sea Serpent (M-European) Selamodir (Iceland) – Seal Mother Serpopard (Egyptian) – Long Necked Leopard Seraphim (Biblical) – Angel Sewer Alligator (American Cryptid) – Albino Alligator Schilalyi (Romanian) – Child of Ana Shamir (Babylonian) – All devouring Worms Shinigami (Japanese) – Reaper Death Spirit Shurale (Turkish) – Tickle long nails Demon Sigunaba (Mexican) – Horse Skull Headed Woman Simurgh (Iran) Siranis (Arabian) Siren (A-Greek) – Mermaid with Magic Voice Sirin (Russian) – Bird Woman with Magic Voice Sirrush (Sumerian) – Dragon Sisiutl (Native American) – Three Headed Sea Serpent Skeljungur (Iceland) – Evil Whale Skinfaxi (Norse) – Horse of the Sun Skoffin (Iceland) – Deadly Gaze Fox Skolopendra (A-Greek) Skunk Ape (North American) Sleipnir (Norse) – Eight Legged Horse Slenderman (Modern Myth) Snallygaster (North American) Snawfus (North American) – White Stag with Plant Antlers Snoligoster (Fearsome Critter) – Propeller Crocodile Soucouyant (Caribbean) – Fire Elemental Hag/Vampire Stheno (A-Greek) Stolas (Demonology) – Owl like Demon Prince Strigoi (Romanian) – Vampire Type Strix (Roman) – Evil Owl Vampire Swan May (Literature) Sybaris (A-Greek)

Tabib Al-Bahr (Arabian) – Doctor Merfolk Tailypo (Literature) – Give me back my Tailypo Taka-Onna (Japanese) – Evil Woman that can stretch bodyparts Taniniver (Jewish) – Plague Dragon Steed of Lilith Tanuki (Japanese) Tapire-Iauara (Brazilian) – Stinking Tapir Jaguar Tatty Bogle (Irish) – Scarecrow Tatzelwurm (Austrian) – Cat Snake Taumafiskur (Iceland) – Evil Whale Tcaridyi (Romanian) – Child of Ana Telchine (A-Greek) Teumessian Fox (A-Greek) Thunderbird (Native American) Tiburones (Philippine) – Flying Shark Trauco (Chilean) – Very ugly Jungle Dwarf Tripodero (Fearsome Critter) – Long Legged Aberration Triton (A-Greek) Trunko (African Cryptid) – Hairy White Sea Globster Tsuchinoko (Japanese) Tulpa (Tibetan) - Imaginary Friend  Tursus (Finnish) – Walrus Man Tzitzimitl (Aztec) – Destruction and Stars God

UaUa Pach (Mayan) – Horrible Giant with Long Tongues Uktena (Native American) – Horned Serpent with Gem Ushabti (Egyptian)

Vanara (Hindu) – Monkey Folk Vatnagedda (Iceland) – Venomous Flounder Poisonous to Ghosts Vishap (Armenian) – Dragon

WakWak Tree (Persian) – Tree with Face Fruit Water Babies (Native American) Weewilmekq (Native American) – Gigantic Leech Wekufe/Guecubu (Mapuche) – Evil Spirit Whintosser (Fearsome Critter) – Many Legged Beast Wickerman (English) Wishpooshi (Native American) – Giant Beaver Wiwilemek (Native American) – Horned Crocodile Wraith (Scottish) Wulver (Scottish) – Good Natured Fishing Werewolf

Xicalcoatl (Aztec) – Chocolate Vase Snake

Yeth Hound (Devon) – Flying Headless Hound Yohualtepoztli (Mexican) – Axe Horror Golem Yosuzume (Japanese) – Swarm of Evil Birds Ypotryll (M-European)

Zabraq (Iran) – Blood Spraying Horror Lizard Zahak (Iran)

Forgotten to Add:

La Llorona (Mexican) - Drowned Woman Ghost 

Hupia (Caribbean) - Ghost without Face and Navel 

[muzzilla]

Loch Ashie with @teaghan_stewart . . . . #lochashie #scotland #beautiful #photography #idontlikeoutside

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Pearls, Plaids, & Pistols Master List

Chapter One Chapter Two - Marcus Chapter Three Chapter Four - Loch Ashie Chapter Five - In the Still of the Night Chapter Six - Tuesday’s Child  / (Jamie’s POV)

Christmas Update: In The Bleak Midwinter

[amuhav]

     Asher glowered at the small demon sat at the dining table. She glared back at him, clearly bored of waiting.      “Is it official?” Asher asked without preamble.      “Yep. Angel said she’s sorry, but couldn’t trust your brothers with me.” Shard grinned. “I guess that’s nice, huh? That you’re the only one mummy dearest trusts with the big bad demon.”      “Shard, you’re five foot nothing and haven’t ever done anything evil in all the time I’ve known you,” Asher scoffed. “‘Big Bad Demon’ you are not.”      “Hey, I resent that!” Her smile hadn’t left though. “So, let me guess, rule number one, stay away from pretty boy upstairs?”      “Something like that,” Asher said, crossing his arms. “You stay out of my room unless there’s an emergency. And you don’t do anything to scare him, got it?”      “You could be more specific than that. Boy looks like a stiff wind might scare him, poor thing.”      “His name is Loch,” Asher hissed through gritted teeth.      “Oh, I know who he is.” Shard sat up, a crooked grin on her face. “Loch Karaish, third-generation Karaish, the first generation born in Grey’s Harbour. They’re a very fascinating family, and a good choice. You picked a pretty one, too. I was always disappointed when your mum married your dad, a boring human, and no offence, not much of a looker either. Though I guess you might not have genetic kids, so kind of a wasted choice, really. What?” she asked as he stared at her, trying to make sense of anything she said. Like always, she rambled away, only half explaining thoughts as they came to her.      “Loch is human,” was the only thing he could pick out to contest.      “Mostly,” Shard said enigmatically. “But I’m getting ahead of myself, anyway. Not likely you’ll have kids, so it doesn’t really matter.”      “What happens to you, then?” Asher asked, pushing away the upsetting thoughts that her statement brought up. “If I don’t have kids, who do you go to?”      “The nearest relative, so in your case, one of your brothers.”      “So why didn’t you just go to one of them in the first place?” Asher snapped.      “Not my choice,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “Though honestly, I’d rather stick with you for now.”      “Why?” he huffed.      “Because.” She snorted when he rolled his eyes at her one-word answer. “Cheer up, Ashy, it’s not all so bad. I’ll stay out of your way for the most part. And I promise to leave pretty boy alone,” she said in a mockingly immature tone, and Asher growled under his breath.

|<Previous | Beginning | Next>|

[mysticalmurray]

ELLIOT MILO HYDE. KNOW THE BASICS. FC: NICO MIRALLEGRO.

b. october 3rd, 1996  --- libra ☼ . gemini ☾  . sagittarius ↑

Known as Hyde.

Hufflepuff --- 6th year

Lives in a magical community in the Highlands of Scotland, near Loch Duntelchaig and Loch Ashie. 

Eldest of two brothers, ages 9 and 7.

Favorite colors; mint green and brick red. 

Patronus; Porcupine.

You can win his heart with meat, potatoes, and dark chocolate.

Very magnetic personality, expressive, and airy.

Loves dramatics and knows how to get his point across.

Part of the theatre club; Déjà Vu and Cue! Theatre Club

Will always work his mind overtime when it comes to grades, but doesn’t believe in manual labor.

Although his balance can be quite well, he often doesn’t pay attention to where he is walking.

Slight obsession with foreign films, especially french.

Head is usually in the clouds, making him hard to pin down.

Although most wouldn’t believe it, he loves to read; Lord of the Flies and The Hobbit are his currents.

His family travels to Italy every summer; favorite areas being Venice, Florence, and Naples.

Has a tendency to be quite restless and nervous.

Doesn’t take to responsibility well.

Has seen the “Loch Ness Monster” and loves to toss it fish.

Surrounds himself with others who share a love for intellect.

[whiskytastings]

Review #176: Kilkerran 12

46% ABV, natural colour, non-chill-filtered Producer: Glengyle Distillery, Campbeltown, Scotland Owner: J&A Mitchell & Co Ltd. (via Mitchell's Glengyle Ltd.)

The original Glengyle distillery was founded in Campbeltown 1872 by William Mitchell. Prior to founding Glengyle, William and his brother John were the owners of Springbank distillery, which they had bought from the original founder, their brother-in-law William Reid, in 1837. But the two brothers, who were also farmers besides managing the distillery, had a falling out, allegedly over a disagreement about sheep, and William decided to leave Springbank in 1872. He briefly joined his two other brothers Hugh and Archibald Mitchell at Riechlachan distillery, but shortly after founded his own distillery, Glengyle, just a few hundred metres down the road from Springbank.

William Mitchell sold the business in 1919, but due to the downturn in the Campbeltown whisky industry during the early parts of the 20th century, the distillery was closed permanently only six years later, in 1925. However, unlike most other closed-down distilleries in Campbeltown, that were demolished over the years, the buildings of Glengyle distillery remained standing throughout the 20th century. The building was used for many different purposes over the years, including as a farmer’s cooperative and as a rifle range for the local rifle club. 

In 2000 the distillery was bought back by the descendants of William and John Mitchell, the owners of Springbank distillery, J&A Mitchell, and over the next four years the buildings were turned back into a working distillery. Since there was no distillery equipment left from the old Glengyle distillery, new equipment had to be brought in however. Most of it was bought new, but some equipment was reused from other distilleries. For example the stills, condensers and spirit safe were sourced from Ben Wyvis distillery, a former malt distillery that operated inside the Invergordon grain distillery in the northern Highlands between 1965 and 1977. The stills were modified slightly for Glengyle, the shape was adjusted slightly, and the lyne arms at the top of the stills were slanted upwards. This was done in order to achieve more reflux inside the still, which increases the amount of copper contact of the spirit vapours, and in turn results in a lighter, more delicate spirit.

The new Glengyle distillery began production on 25 March 2004, and became the first new distillery to open in Scotland in the 21st century. The barley malt comes from the floor maltings at Springbank and is lightly peated, to the same level as the malt for Springbank single malt. The peat is harvested from bogs in the Campbeltown area, and some of the barley is also grown locally. Glengyle distillery is operated only part-time of the year, by the staff from Springbank distillery. The first bottling of single malt from Glengyle became available in 2007 under the name Kilkerran. Reason for the different name is that the name ‘Glengyle’ is owned by the neighbouring Glen Scotia distillery’s parent company Loch Lomond Distillers, and used by them for a blended malt whisky. The name Kilkerran comes from the Gaelic name of a settlement of St Kieran, that was in the area where Campbeltown stands today. Following the initial release, Glengyle launched a series of limited Kilkerran “Work In Progress” bottlings for the following 7 years, with each release being matured and finished in a different type of oak cask. 

Last year, in 2016, the first of Glengyle’s whisky reached the age of 12 years, and finally the long awaited first ‘regular’ distillery bottling was made available, the Kilkerran 12 year old. Released on 12 August 2016, it is the first of the distillery’s core range, and as such should be available, albeit in limited quantities, for the foreseeable future. It is made from 70% whisky matured in ex-bourbon casks and 30% in ex-sherry casks. It is bottled at 46% ABV, is not chill-filtered and of natural colour.

Eye: The cardboard tube and bottle feature the same striking Kilkerran design, established by the “Work In Progress” series, with bold lettering around the Kilkerran Church Tower triptych. The whisky has a lovely yellow gold colour and develops a lovely bit of scotch mist when diluted. Nose: Earthy and herbaceous, with heather, sorrel, hay and yeast, then some fruity aromas with lemon zest, overripe apple and peach, sourdough bread, walnuts, vanilla and ginger all with a backdrop of salty sea air and gentle peat smoke. Palate: Full flavoured and mouth coating, with the peat influence much more noticeable than on the nose. Sweet honey and malty cereal, ripe pear, zesty lemon, grapefruit, vanilla, black pepper, soft mint, nutty oak, pine cone, brine, some medicinal flavours and gentle, yet very present peat smoke in the background. Finish: Medium to long with soft ashy smoke, bitter almond, cocoa, and a gentle spicy heat.  Verdict: Wonderfully complex, flavourful and extremely moreish, with a simply superb balance between sweet, tart, salty and peaty flavours. A masterpiece of whisky making. 89/100

Further reviews:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3U69EOtqaY

https://thewhiskeywash.com/reviews/whisky-review-kilkerran-12-year-old

https://thewhiskyphiles.com/2016/12/07/kilkerran-12-years-old-46-j-a-mitchell

http://maltandoak.com/kilkerran-12-years-old-46-and-a-visit-to-the-distillery

http://www.divingforpearlsblog.com/2016/09/single-malt-report-kilkerran-12-year.html

[scotland-forever]

Loch Ashie. by Gordie Broon. on Flickr.

[amuhav]

     “SHARD!” Asher burst through the door, shouting as soon as he saw the small girl in the room. “Get. OUT!” He pointed out the door furiously, but she just rolled her eyes at him.      “Oh, don’t shout Ashy. I was only introducing myself.”      “Go downstairs, do not leave the house. I will deal with you in a minute. “      “Alright, alright. Jeez.” She turned back to Loch and gave him a silly wave. “Bye, Lochy, was nice to meet you!” She looked back at Asher, who was glaring at her, his breathing deep and angry. “I’m going!” She petulantly poked her tongue out at him as she left. Asher slammed the door behind her, and Loch watched as he tried to calm himself before turning to face him. Loch must have looked scared because he deflated almost instantly.      “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise she’d be around,” he said in a forced calm tone, taking a step towards him. “Please, don’t freak out.”      “I’m trying my best,” Loch replied, his voice a little wobbly, though he was surprisingly calmer than he’d normally expect. Something about the girl’s demeanour had made him nervous, but also defensive. He realised what it was; her exaggerated childishness and fake, sugar-sweet tone reminded him of the way Sky could sometimes act. It must have caused his usual stubbornness to show no weakness to somewhat kick in. “Who the hell was that?!” he finally burst out; Asher had no sisters, he wasn’t attracted to girls in the slightest, so he knew he had no reason to worry there, and his brothers didn’t live here anymore, so no girlfriends; that took away any answers that made sense.      “Okay, um, maybe you should sit down?” Asher suggested, and Loch wasn’t sure if that was because what he was going to say would be so shocking, or because he was worried Loch was on the verge of losing it. Loch took a steadying breath and sat down on the edge of the bed.      “I’m okay,” he assured, and Asher sat down beside him, running a hand through his dark hair, clearly trying to work out how to start explaining.

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