#THE SEA OF TRAGIC BEASTS

[darth-maya]

The song of the day is

FIT FOR AN AUTOPSY - The Sea Of Tragic Beasts

#maya's song of the day #the sea of tragic beasts #fit for an autopsy #deathcore #death metal #metal #music #music video #Youtube

[loveydoveyidiot]

Lay my soul to rest

By the bitter blood, I remain unloved

#music #spotify #fit for an autopsy #the sea of tragic beasts #unloved

[s-e-c-t-i-o-n-8]

#Fit For An Autopsy #The Sea of Tragic Beasts #deathcore #metal #whitechapel #Carnifex #Lorna Shore

[bluebellowl]

As James is imprisoned, what‘s his husband up to?

Well….

He‘s had an anchor chained to his ankle and and dropped into the deep blue sea, left there to drown and die, then awake in 24h and drown all over again.

And again…

And again…

Until after weeks, maybe months, someone comes to free him from this hell cycle.

#Vincent Leventis #drowning #one of the heavier angsty plot points we had #roleplay art #tragic pirate #still The sea beast AU #am I still allowed to call it that?

[goddess-of-graphite]

The Great Notes App Exodus: Gothic Dragons

Gotham has always been protected by a Dragon, even before it was ever Gotham.

There was a way about the land Gotham stood upon, that was all twisted magics and darkness and feral energy that never quite fit in man’s modern world. America had but one Guardian Dragon - except for Gotham, which was near a law and country unto itself.

Gotham was a sanctuary for the supernatural, but it was not kind. Those non-humans who risked its dark streets were the brave, or the foolish, or the terribly desperate. Gotham was a dark city, and it’s people adapted or were driven out.

(But should a threat ever come for her, all of Gotham would rise up in response.)

So Gotham had its own Guardian, but the Dragon guarded the world outside from Gotham’s brutality just as much as it shielded Gotham from those that would rend her apart.

But, of course, Dragons were only so many, and new blood must be brought in - human blood, as it often was, and so the trend of Dragon blood “skipping” a generation emerged.

And the bloodline of the Guardian Dragons of Gotham withered, bit by bit, because it is far easier to kill a human of dragon blood than it is to kill a Dragon of human descent.

(And Bruce Wayne has never hated this truth of the world more - because his parents had been Skipped, human, and if they had been dragons, they’d still be there with him.

But they weren’t.

It was just Bruce, a fledgling Dragon, and the butler left to care for him.)

-

Although Gotham had only ever had one Guardian Dragon, it had at one time had a whole lineage of Dragons capable of taking up the mantle. As the Dragons intermarried, however, more and more lines broke off with human kin, occasionally producing dragons.

But the Guardian Line had been reduced to one untrained hatchling. And that hatchling didn’t much care if it was a Dragon or a dragon that was Guardian of the city, just that there was someone to Guard it.

The problem is, of course, that the hatchling needs training - but he cannot get that in Gotham.

So he leaves.

He comes back ready to pull his city back from the brink, by force if (when) necessary.

Here’s the thing - Bruce is no Dragon, because for all that he is the last of the Guardian line he doesn’t adhere to the rules of that duty.

A Guardian’s duty is to the supernatural beings they protect.

Bruce has already decided that that is not enough. Human or Magical Being, if no one else will step in, then he will.

Bruce might have been the Gotham Dragon, but that didn’t mean he was the only dragon in the city.

The thing about dragon blood is that it tended to turn up dragons unexpectedly in families that had been mostly human. A dragon ancestor could have human children, and their children have human children, and then a dragon. It was a recessive trait when introduced into human bloodlines, and especially if it was paired with yet more human lines, but it also was tellingly stubborn - a human may only have a single draconian ancestor hundreds of years back, but they could still unexpectedly turn up a dragon hatchling.

It was just sheer dumb luck that a bunch of said unexpected hatchlings turned up within the span of the same generation.

#The Great Notes App Exodus #graphite writes #american dragon was a show I held close to my heart the entire first season #and then they changed the art style and I Literally Could Not watch it #But the concept is so cool and I love dragons so here it is transplanted onto the batfam <3 #I also considered a version where the rest of the batfam are all different mythical creatures or even just human #Dick would be a water-based siren because I love the thought of him longing for the sky like his bird-siren ancestors #the thought is that you have three variations of sirens: the nymph-like sirens who are the oldest and rarest version #The bird-based sirens who came after Demeter charged them with finding Persephone #And the most prevalent water-based sirens from when they threw themselves into the sea when they couldn’t lure in Odysseus or w/e #So ever since sirens long for the skies and it’s all very tragic <3 #Jason would be a werewolf because I adore the image of this tiny floppy puppy coming back as this two-metre tall feral behemoth of a beast #and Tim as always gave me trouble so I decided he got turned into a vampire while wandering the streets alone one night with his camera #Babs had latent naga blood that activated when she lost the use of her legs so now if she wants she can spawn a snake tail instead #she can’t go out like that obvi but it’s nice being able to get around regardless of her injury #Cass is human because I thought it was funny that the most dangerous batfam member was the only one who wasn’t a mythical being <3 #Fuck knows about Steph tho #Some kinda vocal mimic maybe?? #Something subtle so that she seems human at first (and second) (and third) glance #It doesn’t help that her personality is so loud since it tends to distract people from any of her Otherness

[badolmen]

I will not start a pirate hyperfixation I will not start a pirate hyperfixation I will not start a pirate hyperfixation

#ra speaks #pirates #i broke down and started listening to a podcast BUT THAT DOESNT COUNT BC I ONLY LISTEN WHEN IM WORKING/DRIVING #if I sit down and finally watch black sails or the sea beast THEN I’m in trouble…. #*rotating a Spanish galleon in my mind* plorbos from my seas… #mmm black Sam Bellamy….a glorious rise and tragic fall like a tsunami….

[celesterayel]

the tragic heroes | percy jackson

pairing: percy Jackson ✩ ‧₊˚

IN WHICH — the tragic heroes and the tragedy that appeases the chaos.

The monster cackles in delight, its bulging eyes crinkling with glee and invoking disgust in all that have (and will) witness its countenance. Darkness hides all other pallors of rotting skin and luminously straining veins, slivers of shades of bruised blues and bloody reds clashing against the dark abyss of the room, that the monster has no use for as an entity of chaos.

Bells foil loudly in the distance, perturbing the distant silence of the castle with grating screeches only reaching the heights of noise as the pits of tartarus. It is a cacophony of choked laughter and perversive glee for the delicate steps that built the foundation for what is to come. And soon it shall!

The Fates have come knocking on the door of destiny and offered up to the beast the next great tragedy that shall put all the others to shame. A deal for judgement and devastation. The Fates have weaved through sorrows befitting the leagues of Icarus's falling and Achille's lost love, enthralling the vices of Aphrodite's cruel methods that end with aching lips and entranced poets--forever written into history. They have searched the sands of time and bid the eons of creation for this.

The monster lounges forward as if the visions in the water will disappear and greedily drinks forth the taste of cataclysmic devotion and the etchings of pain in the cosmos as the moonlight of the water provides the burning echoes from lips that shall taste the sweetest sin and ache for it in every other lifetime. What a lovely destruction this will be.

The monster pitches out, “It has begun, young little hero. Such pretty sorrows..."

The Fates have certainly outdone themselves. This story will be one for the ages to come and even after!

The walls haunch over and enclose the story in its grasp, keeping it their secret even if only just a bit longer. It reeks of desperation and devastation--the greatest ones always do.

Voices of the damned and lost screech out in laughter, the entity mocks in pity or sadness all the same: "Wretched Greek story doomed to repeat like it has every lifetime; the pour of ichor waning between reality and prophecies about to drip, drip, drip down the pages. Except in this one, it seems perhaps the gods made a mistake choosing you for him. He has no qualms choosing you over all else. I must say, I shall have fun watching the Earth burn and Olympus fall down--the chaos it shall bring...delightful! Blessing or curse we have yet to see! It seems I have a new tale to tell when the cursed half-bloods come crooning at my gates to weep. My, what marvelous tunes!”

The beast could taste the tears and heartache that slide right off this tale, so presently tasteful.

My, my what marvelous fortunes to come indeed.

The Savior of Olympus., Son of the Seas, Percy Jackson. The Survivor.

The Great One, Daughter of the Heavens, Callopeia Iris. The Tragedy.

"Finally a story for the gods below who ache for destruction and tragedy like it was made for them. They shall have a riot."

The Tragic Heroes.

✩ ‧₊˚ author note i was doing physics and calc hw and this came into my mind and now thinking of creating a full on fanfic on ao3 and wattpad based on the dialogue i wrote. i apologize for being so inactive and for the requests in my inbox. swear I have alot planned and written but classes are kicking me rn. i just needed to post this cuz i think it sounded really good :)

#luke castellan #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo series #percy jackson show #annabeth chase #luke x reader #luke pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fic writing #fan fiction #celesterayel

[sundayswiththeilluminati]

I’m spilling over my thoughts on Nona the Ninth and John’s behavior and here’s the thing, John has always had good intentions; but good intentions are not enough. You have to listen. It’s not about the help you want to give, it’s about the help someone needs to get.

There’s the surface layer of “John dumped Earth’s soul into a Barbie doll” of like “of course a man dumped a woman’s soul into a Barbie” but to stop there is, no. We’re doing the man the myth the legend a disservice. It’s so much worse. Because he doesn’t want Alecto like that. He doesn’t want her in a sexy way. It’s not about the Barbie. It’s about the toy. He says, I wanted Galatea, I wanted a Christmas tree fairy, I wanted a Renaissance angel. I wanted an icon, I worshipped you, I thought you were the most splendid thing that ever existed, the only way I could wrap my head around you was to frame you in every concept I had of beauty and power. But I did all that because I wanted to have you. “It’s human nature to want something.” That’s the only excuse he gives for eating the Sun. “It’s human nature to take.” EATING THE SUN. DOOMING THE SOLAR SYSTEM. “I wanted it. I took it. It’s human nature to take.” He had to put her in a body because he was scared she would get away. “I thought you would escape before I was done.” He thought of Hollywood Hair Barbie not because that was his ideal of beauty and sex and not even just because that was his favorite possession but because that’s the relationship he wants to have with her. “She got to have all the adventures.” He wants to be with the Earth! He wants to have adventures with it! He wants it to be his. He wants it. “It’s human nature to take.” It’s not about fitting Alecto into a body, it’s about fitting Alecto into a story. 

First he wants her to be his companion, his solace, his other half; then he wants her to be Alecto the avenging Fury, the devil, the beast, his unmaking; then he wants her to be Annabel Lee, buried by the sea, the tragic lost love whose grief he must always carry; but it’s always about the story he’s writing in his head. Why do kids catch butterflies? They see this beautiful, fascinating thing, and they love it, and they want it, and so they need to have it. To catch it so it doesn’t get away. John had to chain Alecto because she might get away. She was a liability. She held too much of his heart, metaphorically, and his soul, literally, and he couldn’t stand the idea of not having her. What if he chained Alecto because she wanted to leave? Or, worse, because she wanted to go back? What if Earth was doing a lot better now, a few centuries on, and she was tired of being meat? And John just couldn’t stand the idea of losing her? “It’s human nature to take.” It’s human nature to love, and to not want to let go of what you love, and to take it, to make sure it can’t leave, because you can’t risk the idea that it might not love you back. It might not want to be part of your story.

Compare that to Nona’s life. The very first time we meet Nona’s caretakers, they’re listening to her. Camilla turns on the recorder and asks Nona to describe her dream, and then listens. That scene so wonderfully establishes what’s the most important about Nona’s life: she has people who take care of her, protect her, but also leave room for her. Pyrrha and Cam and Pal order her around. They keep secrets from her. They do things that might harm her right now or go against her wishes and justify it as being for her protection. They use her, too: they’re listening and watching to see what she might become, to know how she might play a role in their war. They do everything John does to his lyctors. The difference is, they also listen to her. They don’t make her follow the story in their heads. They change themselves to accommodate her, the way they expect her to change to accommodate them. Nona doesn’t always get what she wants, because often it isn’t good for her. The people raising her need to keep her safe and fed and well. They don’t take orders from her. But they listen to her. 

And Nona tells them. Nona doesn’t want to be a Renaissance angel, she wants her hair in braids and a cheeseburger t-shirt. John would have given Alecto every thing of great beauty and power, every thing he thought might ever be appropriate to the grandeur he’d built in his mind, but he would never have bought her a shirt from Salt Chip Fish Shop. Pyrrha doesn’t give her anything of beauty and power. Pyrrha makes Nona eat her eggs because she needs food to keep that human body going, even though Nona whines and complains and demands pikelets and birthday gifts; Pyrrha says, eat your eggs, because it’s good for you, and go to school, because it’ll keep you occupied, and don’t come to my dig site, because it’s dangerous for you. Then Pyrrha sells her cigarettes for cash to bribe someone, sure, but what do you want to bet some of that money also went to buy the pikelet mix she makes for Nona the next day, and the shirt she buys for Nona’s birthday too? She doesn’t give Nona exactly what she wants, because Nona is a child and needs protection and guidance. But she doesn’t give the gifts she wants to give; she gives the gifts she knows Nona wants to get. She listens.

And that’s what saves them all. Blood of Eden wants Nona to be Harrow, or Gideon, or both, or a lyctor; an ally, an enemy, something they understand, and if they’d been able to force that on Nona things would have probably gone catastrophically wrong. Instead Pyrrha, Cam, and Pal let her tell them who she is. Tell me your memories. Try out this sword. What do you think about bones? And as much as they want her (or don’t want her) to react to those things, to have certain answers, they listen to the ones she actually gives and react accordingly, and that saves them from making the terrible mistake of not realizing her true identity.

Now finally look at Harrow, handed, over and over again, everything she could ever want: power, immortality, freedom, family, god’s favor, answers, even a way to finally win the love she believed impossible. And all she has to do is take. Take Gideon Nav’s soul. Freely offered! Again and again! All she has to do is take it. And she won’t. She will not take, not even what’s given to her. She won’t take the help of the other Houses because she thinks it will destroy the Ninth - because they won’t listen to the Ninth, even as they help it. She won’t take Gideon Nav’s soul because she won’t take another life to save her own. She will not concede the idea that power can only be gained by one by taking from another. She will not privilege her story above others. She will not say, it’s human nature to take. That’s why Alecto loves her. That’s why she’s going to kill God. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#The Locked Tomb #Nona the Ninth #The Locked Tomb spoilers #Nona the Ninth spoilers #words words words #in the grim darkness of the future there are only goth lesbians

[demifiendrsa]

FINAL FANTASY XVI DLC Trailer - The Rising Tide

Japanese version (with multi-language captions)

Leviathan abilities gameplay

Leviathan The (Not So) Lost Is Here | FINAL FANTASY XVI PAX East 2024 Panel

“The Rising Tide” DLC for Final Fantasy XVI will launch in Spring 2024. An Expansion Pass including both add-ons can also be purchased for $24.99.

Latest details

■ The Rising Tide

Introduction

An unmarked letter arrives at the hideaway containing a request most curious: the Dominant of Leviathan, long lost Eikon of Water, is in need of rescue.

To heed this call, Clive and his companions must journey to Mysidia—a hidden land under a blue sky—where they will uncover the tragic history of a forgotten people.

Ifrit vs. Leviathan

A New Ally: Shula

An invaluable ally on Clive’s journey to rescue Leviathan’s Dominant.

A New Area: Mysidia

Deep within a sea of darkness, sanctuary exists for those who know where to look—a lost oasis untouched by the ever-encroaching Blight. It is beneath her emerald boughs that both man and beast have found their final haven.

What’s Up with the New Tonberries?

New Abilities: Leviathan

Tame the tides and drown your enemies both near and far with the terrible might of the Eikon of Water.

—Leviathan’s Eikonic Feat: Serpent’s Cry

Summon onto Clive’s off arm a sea-spitting serpent capable of attacking enemies at great distances (using Triangle and Square).

New End Game Content: Kairos Gate

Unlock this challenging new mode after completing both “The Rising Tide” and the main game scenarios.

Fight your way through 20 stages, each one growing more difficult.

Earn points during battle and use them to upgrade Clive. Maximize battle performance to earn more points.

Find new materials and weapons at the end of each stage.

Aim for a spot on the global leaderboard.

But That’s Not All…

After obtaining the power of all the Eikons, something happens to Clive…

■ Free Update Version 1.30

Return to a quest giver immediately with a new “Quick Complete” function.

Icons updated for important character quests.

New Skill Set feature allows you to save up to five unique Feat and Ability sets.

Abilities and Accessories adjusted to make easier to use.

New controller type allows for customizable button layouts.

Tone correction, screen effects, and more added to Photo Mode.

Approximately 40 new orchestrion rolls added.

■ Collaborations

Final Fantasy XIV Online

Final Fantasy: Brave Exvius

Final Fantasy XVI is available now for PlayStation 5. A PC version is currently in development.

#Final Fantasy XVI #Final Fantasy 16 #FFXVI #FF16 #Final Fantasy #Square Enix #video game #PS5 #long post

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Hi hi !

More of jealous Hiccup, please 🥺

Or more of castoff 🥺

Love your work, thank you <3

Castoff pt 3

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,044

You listen, and wait.

Tags: Angst, fem!reader, heartbreak, villain reader, unresolved insecurity, anger, canon divergent, RTTE, Httyd 2, dark content, unedited

<Previous - Next>

There was no silence down here, not for long, stale air filled with the angry, mournful, tragic sulfurous breathing of dragons.

You curled in your cell, a square wooden thing with an open, vertical bars caging you in at one end of the wall. The rest room was filled with the violent sound of clanging metal and the hissing of beasts, a steady mix between a barely contained violence and mournful quiet.

Your hair was matted and clothes dirtied, your body pressed up against the cold ship walls as cages filled besides you. Your face was overshadowed by your unlit cell, all the nicer amenities including fire spent on places where the non-prisoner folk roamed. 

The wood felt like ice through your boots.

 Your stomach complained silently to you, burning a hole through your torso only you could feel. 

You heard the rabble of the crew above in the silence between words, rushed feet stomping viciously against the wood floors as their muffled shouting and the clash of metal on metal filled your ears. You’d spent so long at sea that you’d lost track of time. 

You wondered if a dragon above had broken loose. You hoped it did, and killed them all. You knew it was a lost cause.

You watched a dark brown, gray set of boots, not yours, across the way, shifting against charred wood, clenching your fists and digging dry, blood-caked fingernails into cut palms.

You listened to the rattling of chains below, the heavy breathing of dragons come together to make one loud synchronized voice. At times it made you feel as if the very wood of the ship was expanding and contracting with it. 

It couldn’t have been any more than a week, maybe two. 

Your arms were braced at either side of you, your back pressed up to the corner of your small, dank cell as the rocking of the ship became more intense.

You glowered at the stockily-built trapper in front of you, as if he might dissolve if you put enough malice into it. You hated Eret, Son of Eret, who stood with bravado between two stark cages containing a pair of chained and muzzled dragons. 

A Nightmare, like the many lining the edges of this packed room you were stuck in, and a Scauldron.

He glared back, arms crossed over tans furs, a plaintive sneer marring his stone features as the rabble from above grew more intense.

“You cost us dragons.” He said, finally, his voice with heavy amounts of malice.

“You’re hunting them back,” You croaked, voice bordering a hiss just as sharp and jagged as the rest of the beasts locked up around you. Because your life was ruined, trapped here with the rest of the unwanted mongrels, the violent souls the unknowing Riders failed to save.

“You have to tell me,” He quieted down, speaking with controlled, exaggerated breaths.

The stomping from above grew just loud enough to finally draw his attention, breaking his facade for only just a moment. He shot a glance up the narrow stairwell towards the deck, then glanced back.

He was still incensed from your earlier argument. He wasn’t the rageful type, but you found that you had quite the penchant for making him mad.

“No,” It was so cold. You pushed down a wave of irritation, hugging your arms irritatedly in an effort to quell your shivers, and the chattering of your teeth.

The two of you stared at each other in silence as the ship rocked violently, men storming around above. You were at a verbal impasse.

“Either way, I’m trapped.” You broke it. You felt sometimes as if you were still in shock, because you felt no such thing, though you’d never heard of a shock lasting so long. 

“I can’t help you, then.” Eret looked down on you, waving his hands angrily before dropping them onto his thighs.

“You were never goi-” You started, as the trapdoor covering the top of the stairs leading down burst open.

Slowly, steadily a large, scruffed man made his way down, each step dropping heavily against steep wooden staircases, taller than they were wide.

He was one of the thicker men, with a large reddish brown bear that was now stained ever darker by the blood running down his temple. He hunched in on himself, arm on his side, exchanging a meaningful look with Eret, who faced him fully.

“The- the masked- The dragons,” The man groaned angrily, blood dripping down from a large cut on the top of his head, just as a scream rang out from above.

“It’s- This early?” Eret’s head flipped towards you and back. He decided quickly that it was time for him to go, though his eyes promised that this wouldn’t be the end of it. You weren’t surprised, there never was an end.

He didn’t wait for an answer, moving forwards, face exposing his astonishment and determination, running up the stairs to the top, forcing the other man to stumble up with him.

You watched him go unblinkingly, listening to the happenings from above with apathy. Once again, you entertained the mild pipe dream that come what may, they would all be dead by the morning. 

You remembered the way flesh felt on the other end of your knife, living, breathing and human. It terrified you just as you cursed the lot of them with it.

Your hands shook with grief. 

The trapdoor fell to the ground with the loud, hollow slam of wood on wood, just as Eret’s foot disappeared up the hatch.

You listened to the dripping water, the sound of stomping as it traveled through the wood from directly above, the rustling of leathery skin and the storming water outside, to your back. 

You listened to the sound of buzzing in your ears, closed your eyes as they unfocused and the sounds of fighting, the clash and the thump of fist against metal and metal against bone became obvious.

You ignored the splinters digging into your palms, a few out of many, and the blisters that grew there like fungi, a result of your constant grip on the hard surface and the friction brought on by the rough seas.

The rumbling of dragons grew louder as something hummed through the wood above, the sluggish, lazy, weighted sounds of leather dropping softly onto the deck and the delicate scratching of claws kindly rested against flooring, tapping against the metal detailing of the even larger, covered trapdoor that allowed the trappers to settle dragons into the jail.

It was like listening to the world’s worst shanty, all of that mindless noise come to a violent and discordant crescendo.

You listened to loud shouts demanding recompense, then even louder, panicked shouting to move.

Your face burned angrily.

One of the dragons must’ve escaped. 

You sighed with bitterness, jealousy heating up your breath, causing you to expel air much like a dragon expelled fire.

You tensed your arms, released your nails from your palms, shook out your shoulder, anticipation and dread building in your gut.

Room grew hotter with such sudden ferocity that you were caught off guard, unaware until you yourself were nearly baking in it, the sudden onslaught of heat caused the dragons below to rear up, to grumble and crackle zealously and sweat boiled against your temples.

You searched for the source, eyes jumping erratically from side to side. 

The wood above you blackened, eyes focusing on it with immediate clarity.

You startled as the metal embedded into your roof began to glow, simmering a bright, passionate orange before distorting, melting onto the wooden floor just outside your cell.

It was the sound of your breath, louder to your ears than any other, that had covered the breath of another. 

You listened to the crackling hiss of fire, with the dying hope that it was the riders, come after you, finally. But you knew that wasn’t their modus operandi.

A hot jet of fire ripped through the wood floor with sudden ferocity, wood frames snapping viciously as it burst through to your floor that you tried to jump back, forgetting that you were already pressed flushed to the corner of your cell.

It brought your cell to unbearable degrees, infusing the air with smoke and ash and filling every one of your nerves with the urge to writhe away. 

You blinked away the smoke with shaky waved hands and stinking, watery eyes.

You shook, squinting up towards the misty deck from where you were crumpled. 

You could vaguely make out a hole had been burnt into the side of the ship, melting through the varnish and fireproofing as you left out, a new dragon crawling through the hole, slitted eyes taking in your surroundings with vigorous abandon.

Your breath caught. And a dragon, with a great, large crown of thick red spines and a flat, viciously-toothed face. It glared down into the hole with slitted eyes, and you pressed yourself back, praying it had not yet seen you.

It brought you back to your days on Berk before the peace, where everything you knew was ravaged and you could do nothing but hide and wait, ignorant to the flashing world around you. Except instead of your world being awash with a series of bright reds and the screams and shouts of VIkings in fiery battle, it was silent. 

A world marked by muffled shouting and pounding of flesh on wood and something much less forgiving. The sounds of battle were not as loud as they should have been. There were too many a distant shout cut off suddenly and without abandon by the root.

You weren’t sure what was more frightening; Hearing the rest of the crew crumple and fail and hearing exactly how or being left to the silence, knowing deep down that you were next.

The catch and release of a bola reverberated over the silence, a deep hollow flinging sound hollowing your ears before fading off into the distance. 

The disgruntled scream made by the beast came much too late after it was hit, tumbling off and around the side. 

As it fell, it revealed something, someone…. For a moment, you had hope.

Overshadowed in your cell, you peered outwards.

Someone was in a mask, wrapped tightly in leather, their face covered by a heavily spined wooden slab. 

They stood with their shoulders braced, stance confident and body lithe. 

You couldn’t make out their face. The whole thing rendered them rather mysterious.

But it was someone.

You didn’t know there were any riders. You weren’t sure if they were a Rider. 

You kept your head down, pushed up into the corner of your cage, deliberating whether or not you should move. You knew if you didn’t it would be your doom. You didn’t know if you could break the trance you found yourself in.

They peered into the hole, before a sharp, ragged dragon call drew them away, lean legs bringing them out of view and rendering them invisible in the mist.

You shivered.

You waited. And waited, counting the seconds in slow motion,listening to your breathing, experiencing every second. Watching the way ousted pieces of wood fell to the ground and shifted as the ship moved, watched as small embers shifted and puttered out, as the metal marking the front of your jail slowly, slowly cooled off, leaving a large, neary person-sized hole.

You could run.

Your breathing quickened. You should have spoken up

But now you could run.

You stared at your knife, hilted on a mount just by the staircase. 

You stared at the melted metal cage and stumbled to your feet, nearly falling as you made your way over, trying to keep with the rocking of the boat and the dizziness clouding your thoughts and vision.

You stopped in front of it, hands on your knees, before you turned to the side, lifting your leg up ever so carefully and dropping it onto the other side, mindful of the metal that had just cooled itself still.

You felt your foot drop to the other side and you let out a breath of relief before catching it, leaning forwards hard in order to make up for the sudden jolt of the boat, hissing as you grazed the red end of a bar with your arm.

You felt skin there sting as it threatened to blister. You knew it would, later.

You came out the other end hopping on one foot, falling against one of the cages on the other side, grabbing the handle of the bar, gritting your teeth as hot metal burned your hands and pushing roughly away towards the stairs, nearly landing on your knees. 

You looked back at the few dragons who hadn’t managed to escape, trapped and locked down in their cages, pressing close to the far corner.

A Nightmare, chained down but no less ferocious, blew smoke through the small allowance in its muzzle. It glared at you rebelliously just as you had Eret a while prior. Condemning, knowing.

You wondered if you had a right to free it, if you were just as bad as the ones who strapped it down, cut the points of its claws to nubs, let it burn itself to near death as the others laughed and jeered.

You couldn’t help but to reel back at the look in its eye, briefly imposed by the image of another.

You wondered if setting it free might give you brownie points with your masked hero. If they were here to play hero, that was. 

You had a choice to make.

You slipped between the cages, You were much slimmer than most of the trappers on board. Slim enough to slim to the other side and grab ahold of one of the huge locks keeping a set of remaining dragons trapped.

They were built to be hardy, enough to keep the dragons locked in, but delicate enough for a person to undo on their own.

You wedged your knife into the lock, messing with the latch and cylinder until you heard that telltale loud release-click. You had become very familiar with that particular sound over the past few weeks.

You slipped to the side, fabric of your furs getting trapped on a sharp untrimmed end of the cage as a pillar of fire burst past, blowing a hole into the next cage over. 

You pushed open the cage door, though not before the dragons had freed themselves, running from the hole and slithering up towards the top.

You scowled, “Beasts.”

You weren’t sure if you could muster anything besides bitterness for them.

Shaking your head, scanning the empty room, you decided to move, running up fast before crashing up through the trapdoor, causing whatever freed dragons there were to jump away.

Your arms shook as you ran across the deck, both invisible and vulnerable in equal measure.

Through the misty fog, you spotted some masked person in the middle of a fierce confrontation against two large men, which they ended by knocking one of them into the other and allowing their dragon, who had since recovered from the bola, to throw them offboard.

You hid around one of the crates, eyes darting around erratically, looking for a way off the ship, smelling something like freedom.

You ran and ran, hoping to maybe find a dragon to hitch a ride off, or at least a raft which you could use to continue to float aimlessly across the sea until you either found land or drowned. 

You reached the edge of the ship, skidding to a stop, great pounding as you made eye contact with a figure standing tall at the bow, the same person as before, one food on the side of the ship, the other planted firmly on the ship’s deck and they stood tall above you.

You had pushed open the cages, freed the dragons. You had helped. 

“Take me with you,” You pleaded, glancing back at the freed dragons behind you in the mist, fighting off trappers and making off for more open skies. 

You wondered if they knew how a moment so inconsequential, a moment so small,  could become so holy to you. It was your poetry. It was your Pantheon. 

You couldn’t tell anything about them besides their eyes, green and hard, the rest of their features hidden behind leather and rags. You thought you might look pathetic the way you were then in your worn, holed furs, torn to the thinness of rags.

Eerily, it reminded you of the moment you spent dangling off the edge of a cliff, looking into the eyes of someone with a very much similar build.

You stared at them, stuck in a moment of hesitation, which caused hope to well up like blood cut from your still beating heart. You pleaded with your eyes, shoulders, body language, let the knife in your hand loose. 

Eerily, it reminded you of the moment you spent dangling off the edge of a cliff, looking into the eyes of someone with a very much similar build.

You imagined their faces, whatever lay under that mask and Hiccup’s, moving in the same way, though you prayed the outcome would not end up the same.

There was a time when you would have rather been in Hel alone than in Valhalla without him.

Eventually, after a long moment of silence and clear deliberation, the masked warrior shook their head no.

They turned, hooked staff shivering, bone parts wrapped to the staff with twine rattling, conveying a command you could not decipher in full. 

The dragon got ready to take off. You tried to grab on to their coattails, the fins of their dragon, anything as they left. But you were too late.

You choked back a sob as you fell back down, hard against the deck. 

Misty, separated by a curtain from the rest of the world, listening to the steady approach of footsteps from behind. You bared your teeth, knife at the ready, and swung.

You felt the blade drag though you couldn’t see against what before you were nicked back onto the ground.

Sopping wet, you struggled against the men who worked to hold you down.

#how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #fem reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

[darth-maya]

The song of the day is

FIT FOR AN AUTOPSY - Mirrors

#maya's song of the day #mirrors #fit for an autopsy #sea of tragic beasts #deathcore #death metal #music video #metal #music #Youtube #Spotify

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

Allow me to introduce,,,,,,, the Sea Monster AU,,

(can also be thought of as ‘selkie au, but Afton’d, sort of’)

The premise: Reader is a selkie that was tricked and wounded by a group of scumbag sailors who wanted their sealskin, and in an attempt to save their own life, they fought back, ripping the entire crew of the ship to shreds. In their fatally wounded state, they find themselves changed and warped into something no longer their kin: a monster warped by shapeshifting and the magic of the sea to survive their tragic circumstances.

They are later found unconscious amongst the wreckage of the boat by Pirate Eclipse, who, curious, takes them in and treats their wounds. When they wake they are afraid, skittish, and loathsome of what they have become. Eclipse feels empathy at their struggle, and over the course of their healing, the two become close and eventually, ofc, fall in love!

(More concept art below the cut, tw for blood and such)

Some extra tidbits:

Eclipse is an infamous pirate! Sun and Moon are respectable sailors and have no interest in associating with him.

SeaMonster-Reader thinks they are hideous- a horrible, ugly monster, and a murderer on top of that. They often hide themselves in sheets or large clothes, both to bring back a similar feeling as their (now lost forever) selkie skin and to shield their appearance from the world.

Eclipse thinks they are beautiful. He tells them so very often. They are easily overwhelmed by his affections and get emotional a lot. He thinks this is very cute.

Not long after they start bonding, an enemy crew attacks Eclipse’s ship. Seamonster Reader attacks instantly and viciously as soon as they detect the hostility, tackling the opposing captain over the edge of the boat and dragging him down below the water. Several seconds later, they claw their way up the side of the ship and attack the second in command, claws and fangs dripping with sea water and red, frothy blood.

Eclipse, of course, thinks this is hot

The opposing crew flees and stories start to spread of a pirate who keeps a blood thirsty half-man beast alongside his ship, a thing that can crack a hole into the belly of a ship or rip man in two.

Eclipse is pleased to be feared, but is outraged that people describe Reader as a hideous animal-like thing, and counters their tales with stories of his sea-folk lover, beautiful and precious and made by the sea with loving care, a force of life and love

One of the first words seamonster-Reader learns to say is ‘you’, then ‘thank you’. The first time they say Eclipse’s name, he is sucker punched by Cupid’s arrow

Eclipse he loves to soothe seamonster Reader, rubbing their back or touching their fins. Reader is flustered by this, but trusts Eclipse and eventually starts to enjoy it, sometimes (timidly) seeking it out. Eclipse wants to smother them in kisses every time they do

Eclipse calls them his beauty, or angelfish. Seamonster Reader calls him ‘Clipse’ or sea star

#bones of a rabbit #bones of a rabbit fic #bones of a rabbit au #sea monster and pirate #sea monster reader #sea monster au #fnaf au #pirate au #pirate eclipse #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x reader #fnaf eclipse x reader #rambles #au rambles #story ideas #doodles #sketches #concept art #I should be working rn LMAO BYE #I’ll share more doodles later #anyway I hope u guys like this stuff hhfhfhhd #and I hope it makes sense hhf #ok byebye

[byeolbeloved]

You're alive -Song Mingi

pairing ↠ wolf!mingi x ballerina!reader

warnings & genre ↠ angst, forbidden love, mention of guns, mingi gets injured

summary↠you were the towns golden swan, the best ballerina in town. Every show you performed he was there. Song Mingi had your heart. However your relationship and meetings were secret as the reality of him being a warewolf would have gotten you in trouble. Every performance you had he was there. But what happends when he gets caught amongst the crowd?

The ocean was jealous of her.

It shed tears and clashed against rocks

As it could never resemble her.

Her elegant turns,

Her honest eyes that were enough to speak a hundred words, 

Her quiet steps so gentle yet so fierce.

Every night she was there twirling on the rocks.

The ocean was jealous of her.

That's where Mingi met you.

“Aaaaand we are done for the day! Perfect ladies! Everyone soak up in a nice warm bath and rest well for the big show tomorrow” your ballet instructor yells out patting everyone on the back before coming to you and resting a hand on your shoulder “especially you Y/N, our golden swan.”

Part of you feels a relief rehearsal for this play will be over after 3 months of non stop training. You got the main part of the play- a story of a white elegant swan who dances her life away, literally, with a tragic ending of her wings being ripped out.

This play was suited for you. You were one of, if not the, best ballerina in town. People called you a golden swan. Your moves were clean and mesmerising. Your presence on stage always shined over everyone else. That could also be because of your perfect physique. Your legs were tall and arms were long and slender. Your skin had a glow that came out even more when you were on stage. 

Women stopped you anywhere you went to compliment either your performances or how beautiful you were. Men practically fought over you anytime you entered a room, a war for who would grab your attention. 

You were a star. Although grateful, you always preferred a quiet life. Being a performer ment constantly having eyes on you, so anytime you had time off you enjoyed spending it alone, especially by the sea. 

You loved the ocean.

The ocean so powerful no one could compete with.

The immortal ocean that could never age

Could get whatever it wanted

The real star of the show. 

But what you loved most about the sea- was him. He who collided with the wind that controlled the sea. His presence dark yet so soft. His body covered in blood and scars. His eyes screaming hurt, craving a touch. Song Mingi had your heart.

“Who’s this handsome stranger all by himself?” you chuckled out, wobbling over to him digging yourself out of the sand with every step. You loose a bit of balance as you stand next to him and he holds your hand keeping you in place before looking at you “not anymore since this handsome stranger is now next to another pretty stranger” he smiles at you and you shyly grin at him. 

“You’ll be there at the show tomorrow right? I saved a spot for you at front” 

Normally Mingi sat in the far back of your shows but most of the time he’d watch you from the door, careful not to let anyone see him. Your town despised werewolves. Officers hunted them down and everyone spread stories and rumours of the horrible encounters humans had with werewolves. How they were selfish beasts only with a desire to eat out human hearts. You’ve been hearing these stories ever since you were young. Schools and churches taught kids from early ages to stay away from them. Especially with your dad being a cop, you had a lot more stricter rules with who to hang out with and where to go. But you were always so curious. If they were so dangerous why weren’t there bodies found? So when you found out about Mingi you wanted to know more. Who is he? What does he do? Where does he go? 

You know Mingi wasn’t capable of the inhumane things people told you about. He treated you with such care. His eyes reminded you of a lost little boy, not knowing where to go. Which is why you wanted to be there to show him light. Let him follow your glow and show him the wonders of the world.

“Y/N….” he sighed before sitting down pulling you down with him.

“You know I can’t be seen like that… not when there are so many people”

“People won’t be looking at you Mingi. The audience will be dark anyway” You knew you wouldn’t be able to convince him but you still tried, desperate that maybe one day he’ll get the confidence to.

“This play is really important for me. I want to show you the best of it” you traced your fingers on the side of his neck, he had a scar that coincidentally looked like a butterfly. It was a scar from his childhood a human inflicted on him- and there humans go to say wolves are the beasts. You knew it held a lot of his trauma which is why you kissed him there every time, not knowing how it's now his favourite area of skin because of you.

“I know Y/N fuck I really want to support you… do you know how bad I want to walk you down the streets, holding your hand showing you off but I really can’t…” he hides his face in his hands but you pull them to you making him face you.    

“I can't be a man for you, I’m a beast”

“You’re alive” your voice is not above a whisper.

“I’m a monster with no heart”

You place a hand on his chest where his heart is “your heart beats”

“If not for the world let it beat for me”

His eyes tear up feeling the lump in his throat grow just like when he sees you on stage, twirling and flowing around with grace and purity. There was nothing in this world he loved more than to see you like that, dressed in white shining your way on the stage. He thought about how you would look walking up to him down the aisle. He wanted it so bad. But how? How was he going to claim you when he couldn’t even claim his own identity? He couldn’t have his own identity. When he had to live in filth running away from people, running away from society. How was he going to ruin your pure reputation with his filthy one?

“Tomorrow you will sit in front. Whatever goes on, I will take responsibility, just please. For me, sit in front” you whisper as you rest your forehead on his shoulder. He locks his fingers through your hair and gently rubs the small of your back with his other hand before letting out a small “for you.” 

“Lights are we ready?! Okay! Get the sound crew ready, swans you’re up!” you hear the stage manager yell out. 

You’re getting ready tapping your feet and stretching your legs for the last time. Your cue was soon but before you go up you’re trying to find Mingi in the audience. He’s nowhere to be seen, or at least not in the front where you reserved the seat for him he promised to sit at. Part of you is disappointed he didn’t keep his promise but you tried to shake it off, knowing it’s still a hard thing for him to do. He’s surely somewhere in the crowd, there hasn’t been a time where he’s missed your performance.

You’re halfway through your performance. Everything is going well. You can see peoples faces and how mesmerised they look- some even crying. You don’t have time to examine the whole audience since you’re focused on your movements and facial expressions, however you keep glancing at the front or the back to try and spot Mingi. He’s still not there.

But suddenly you hear a woman in the crowd scream bloody murder. “A WOLF!” she screeches as the crowd looks at the back only to see Mingi drenched in blood holding his side probably from a deep wound. You halt as you see your father emerging from behind him with a gun “EVERYONE STAND BACK!” he yells out. 

It doesn’t really help the panic though as the crowd start screaming and pushing one another to get out. With that you loose sight of Mingi. Everything is happening so fast you weren’t sure how to react, flinching as you tried to move but your body naturally halting again. “DANCERS RUN OUT FROM THE BACKSTAGE EXIT!” you hear the backstage crew yell out which snaps you from your frozen thoughts.

Your next moves happen in an instinct. No thoughts in your head just the motive to find Mingi. You jump off the stage and quickly push through the panicked crowd in hopes that your father didn’t already capture him. 

“Mingi?! Mingi where are you!” you sob out. Your tutu bumping into people causing you to fall back further from where you were trying to head to. So you rip your tutu off, dropping it without a care on the ground before swimming back into the crowd.

You look to your left only to see a shoe. An old worn out shoe that could only be one persons in this situation. You dove to it only to find Mingi on the ground, arms covering his face to avoid people stepping on him. You quickly lift him up, practically dragging him because of his body weight, probably deepening his wounds but in this case you couldn’t do anything about it because you needed to focus on getting the hell out of here. 

You reach towards an old exit, surprised no one has found out about it, you and mingi safely get out of there. 

“I tried….getting huff in but huff your dad….caught me ah fuck” hes barely lets out.

“Don’t speak god look at you it’s okay i’ll take you somewhere safe” you let out in a slightly higher pitch from panic.

You find an old storage room and quickly take him there. Surely no one would walk in here since people are mostly focused on evacuating right now.

You lay him on the floor and finally notice just how bad he looks. His face is beat up, he has a huge slash on his chests side and a huge stab wound on his thigh- left unnoticed by him since the slash on his chest is killing him way more right now. You rip the remaining of his already ripped apart shirt to cover the wounds and apply pressure on him.

“God Mingi… did you even fight back?” you realise when you saw your father, even if it was only for 5 seconds from the amount of chaos caused, he looked completely untouched. And Mingi was strong. Werewolves already have supernatural strength so he would have easily dealt with your father with a single push alone.

“I couldn’t… Y/N he’s your dad” he chokes out reaching for your hand that’s applying pressure to his slash on his chest “I-I’m ah sor- sorr….” before he could finish you cut him off “Do not apologise Song Mingi… goddamnit look at you”

“I bet you looked beautiful on stage Y/N” he said with a painful smile.

“Mingi…”

“My heart beats for you Y/N”

#song mingi #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #mingi x y/n #mingi x you #mingi angst #ateez angst #Spotify #mingi ateez #mingi scenarios #ateez song mingi #song mingi angst #song mingi drabble #song mingi imagine #song mingi fluff

[laundrypause]

Think: Loscar as princes who are in line to take the throne of their respective houses and Oscar who is supposed to be the future king of the realm because he's already been betrothed to the Prince of the realm who is obviously going to one day be King but is harbouring feelings for Logan. Obviously Logan doesn't know of it yet because Oscar's an idiot but Logan also likes Oscar so in truth, they're both idiots.

In my head, Oscar's the Prince of House of Moon (honestly the houses names need more thought but let the literal names be placeholders for now), one of the most powerful houses in the realm. Known for their swordsmanship and weaponry, House Moon also holds one of the strongest armies, second to House Sun. House Moon's colours are predominantly black with purple and silver as complimentary colours. Oscar's the oldest of four children and the only male heir, making it his duty and birthright to next rule House Moon. Raised to rule ever since he was a babe, he's known and grown to learn nothing but to be the perfect King. One of the most talented swordsmen in the realm, he's only 8 and 10 moons when he's already managed to hold three victorious battles under his belt. Now, don't get him wrong, Oscar in no way is a violent man but when push comes to shove, he'll do anything to protect his house and the people he cares about. It's like how that saying goes, “Don't poke a sleeping dragon unless you want to face its wrath”. Fitting for the prince.

Logan is the Prince of House Forest (ik, it's a WIP). House Forest's colours are green, brown and gold. Not one of the realm's powerhouses, House Forest instead is known for its handsome craftsmanship and relationships with magical creatures. Don't be mistaken in underestimating House Forest though. As much as they are peace lovers, they are as much cunning. House Forest is one of the oldest houses, having been established before the War™ so they know a thing or two of fending for themselves during one. Logan is the youngest of two children but the sole inheritor to the throne after his brother's tragic death at sea. The stormy seas caused his brother to have gone overboard and before help could've reached him, he drowned in the rough waters. It is rumoured the sea beast, Drakolia, a huge sea serpent part of the House of Seas had something to do with the young Prince's death but House Seas denies any claim that they or Drakolia had anything to do with it and threatened anyone who dares say otherwise with treason and consequently, death.

And just for fun, Oscar's sword is called the Blood Moon. It has a cross guard shaped as a crescent moon and the blade has the various stages of the moon. Together with the Prince's blood and iron– the iron came from the summit of the tallest mountain in the kingdom where it's said it was the closest you could get to the moon– the sword was forged under the conditions of a lunar eclipse. Enemies claim that the sword gleams and pulses under moonlight but no one ever believes them, chalking it up to pure imagination or delusion. Rumor has it that the sword's actually alive, that it whispers to thieves who wish to steal it away from its rightful owner, making them do unspeakable things.

House Moon harbours a secret, actually a multitude of secrets but one of them is being the ones who killed Logan's brother. It was all apart of their plan, in the name of their thirst and greed for more power and sway over the realm. There were rumors that the king and queen of House Forest could not produce any more offspring so Logan's brother was to be the only child and sole inheritor of everything House Forest. Because of that, House Moon knew if they killed the sole inheritor to House Forest's throne, it would be easier for them to take over it or at least, weaken it to the extent that it'll make their path for power a smidge easier. Oscar wasn't even born when this happened but he did find out when he was 9 moons. It was an accident, truly. He was walking past his parents’ chambers, wanting to sneak out for a late night snack. What stopped him in his tracks was the mention of House Forest (at that point of his life, anything related to Logan made him stop). Curious, Oscar peeked into their study. Inside he found the King and Queen of House Seas, laughing merrily with his parents. Though, laughing merrily is quite inaccurate. No, they were snickering, vicious smiles plastered on their faces. They seemed to be quite drunk and perhaps that was why their lips were so loose at that instance, under the pretence that no one was near them to eavesdrop. What Oscar heard was basically an admittance to the two houses having a part in the first prince of House Forest's death. It was truly unlucky when Oscar had accidentally placed his weight too much on the door, causing it to fall open and him to unceremoniously plop onto the ground.

The second it happened, everyone in the room sobered up. Oscar was placed in a chair, his mother's arm tight around his chest, halting any movements he wanted to make. A mage was called upon and a spell was placed on Oscar, wiping any memory of what he saw that night from his memory. House of Moon would not let their secrets get out, they'd do anything even to the extent of altering their child's memories. Nothing was too far. Well, now Oscar wouldn't need to think about l his family had played a part in Logan's brother's death that took an enormous toll on his mother, leaving her heartbroken and bedridden for months before she could get back up again. Logan's mother now was but a shell of what she used to be back when his brother was still alive.

Logan might not have known his brother but he knew how loved he was. It truly was an act of God when Logan's mother learned that she was with child, years after her first child's death. House Forest painstakingly ensured that the second Prince was well cared for and no enemies would be able to even graze a strand of his hair. House Moon had grown a great deal during the last few years. They didn't need to kill Logan for power, no, House Forest had practically been left to ruin after the first Prince's death. House Moon's prospects didn't include House Forest anymore, they were in the big league now and when their Queen gave birth to the house's first prince, it was a no-brainer for them to betroth young Oscar to Prince Lando of House Sun.

#loscar #loscar fantasy au #if you couldnt tell this was inspired by hotd #logan sargeant #oscar piastri #loscar fic #loscar fic au #i love fantasy so much you dont even know

[jojo-schmo]

Kirby and the Forgotten Land Roleswap AU: Doodle dump #2!

Here’s some more of my ideas for this AU:

First one is how I think the beginning of Bandana Dee’s first fight would go. He’s dressed as a Primal Awoofy! It’s a bit more tragic that another Waddle Dee is helping the mass abduction of his own kind… Bandee arrived in the world first and fell victim to the planet-wide brainwashing.

Kirby arrived second and helped the Waddle Dees build and defend their town for a while. Meta Knight arrived third, shortly before Dedede. He encounters Elfilis in the abandoned city. Dedede arrived last, just in time to see the destruction of the first Waddle Dee Town and the abduction of his Waddle family…

Kirby is ready to go save them but Dedede stops him. This is his family, and he’s going to take care of them. He leaves Kirby in charge of the town and sets off towards the Natural Plains, where he finds Meta and Elfilis. They go off together from there and the adventure begins!!

I made the splitting of Elfilis into two beings messier, so rather than resulting in a purely good and purely evil half, I think it would be more interesting to have a blend of good and evil in both.

Elfilis was the one that escapes the lab, but with only a fraction of themselves which leaves them mostly powerless and amnesiac. They’re a grumpier travel companion than Elfilin is in canon- this frustration comes from the feeling of being incomplete while having to live in hiding from the Beast Pack for as long as they can remember. They don’t have a desire to conquer worlds- just to find out where they came from and why they feel an inexplicable pull towards the volcano across the sea… Elfilis gave up on finding anything out until a certain King and Swordsman crosses their path.

Elfilis would be more of an active supporting character. They wouldn’t really have any powers to start off- maybe as they got closer to the Lab, they would regain a bit more. By the time the group arrives in Winter Horns, they’d have enough to summon a portion of their spear!

Having lived in hiding all their life, Elfilis gets introduced to some of the simpler pleasures in life by the residents of Dreamland :’D

Oh, and since our two main heroes are different, the Waddle Cafe’s dishes are themed appropriately to their aesthetic. :’) Kirby helps out but doesn’t do the actual cooking-! If he did, he’d eat too many of the ingredients before the dishes are done.

#roleswap scraps #thank you for partaking in my brainrot #15 year old Jojo would be so proud that I made a fun AU #I’m probably gonna make a comic for this too bc the ideas are so fun for me to make! #AWW YEAH #art #kirby #kirby and the forgotten land #roleswap au #forgotten land roleswap #Elfilis #bandana waddle Dee #meta knight #king dedede #morpho knight #???

[softlytowardthesun]

Wich are your favorite fairy tale couples/romances and why?

*cracks knuckles* I'm excited for this one!

It's important to note that not all of these are necessarily "canon" to the story, whatever that nebulous word means in the context of oral traditions. Still, the fun of fairy tales as a genre is the audience participation aspect, allowing you to fill in our own imaginative gaps.

Gold-Tree, her husband, and her wife from "Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree": in this Celtic variant of "Snow White", the handsome prince fills the role that the dwarfs occupy in Grimm. She marries him and temporarily escapes her mother, but the wicked Silver-Tree finds Gold-Tree and poisons her. Thinking her dead, the prince takes another wife, and in a total reversal of "Bluebeard", the second princess walks into the forbidden room where Gold-tree slumbers, finds the thorn, and breaks the spell. The second princess then kills Silver-Tree when she makes her third attempt on Gold-Tree's life, and " prince and his two wives were long alive after this, pleased and peaceful."

The Peasant and the Soldier from "The Grave Mound": A comical story about two poor men who win their fortune through conning the Devil, which ends with them co-habitating and "living in rest and peace...as long as God is pleased to permit". I fell in love with this story after reading the dedicated chapter for it in the terrific academic anthology "Transgressive Tales: Queering the Grimms".

Betushka and the Wood Maiden: Every day at noon, a mysterious and beautiful maiden appears to the farm girl Betushka. They dance together until the sun goes down, and I'm just so moved by how it's described: "Betushka's cheeks burned, her eyes shone. She forgot her spinning, she forgot her goats. All she could do was gaze at her partner who was moving with such grace and lightness that the grass didn't seem to bend under her slender feet." Ultimately, Betushka succumbs to an Orpheus-style moment of weakness that separates them forever. Tragic, but undeniably beautiful.

The Clever Farmgirl and the King: I love a battle of wits where the two parties challenge each other but clearly respect and love one another. You listed this as one of your favorite tale types, and in hindsight, I'm inclined to agree.

Tam Lin and Janet: these two need no introduction. A haunting ballad of love and the transformations that it always entails. (Just please, never the non-consensual variants.) I have to shout out Overly Sarcastic Productions on YouTube for introducing me to this story, and the "Which Fairytale Lady Are You?" quiz, which assigned me Janet. I hope to be as bold and confident as this heroine, in love and in life.

Prince Yousif and Louliyya, Daughter of Morgan: An Egyptian relative of Rapunzel, I love their fierce and undying commitment to each other, and their resilience in the face of the many challenges between them and their happy ending.

The Lady and the Lion from "The Singing, Springing Lark": A "Beauty and the Beast" variant where the heroine knows about the curse from the word go, and they actually live happily in spite of his back-and-forth between his human and lion forms for a while, even having a child together. Of course, circumstances force them apart, and she travels to the Sun, the Moon, the Four Winds, and the Red Sea to get him back. It's a relationship built on honesty, communication, and willingness to sacrifice for one another. When people talk about wanting a fairy tale Prince Charming, this is the guy I picture.

The One-Handed Girl and her Prince: A lovely (if at times gruesome) Swahili story of a woman deprived of everything by her wicked brother, she finds love in a charming prince and they start a family together. When her love is out warring, her wicked brother rears his head and persuades her in-laws to banish her to the wilderness, and tell the prince that she and her baby died. I'm always moved by the makeshift funeral her husband arranges when he hears the wicked brother-turned-royal-advisor's lie, and their reunion at the end.

The couple from "The Nixie of the Pond": When her husband succumbs to a mysterious nixie, the heroine conducts a series of moonlight rituals, offering a comb, a flute, and a spinning wheel to the water spirit in exchange for his safe return. Of course, the nixie doesn't play fair, but they eventually get their hard-earned happy ending, finding each other under the moonlight listening to the same song she used to bargain for his rescue.

Broadening the definition of "fairy tales", I have to include Dorothy and Ozma, Clara / Marie and her Nutcracker, and Ahmed and Pari Banu. There are also stories with pairings that, while I can't honestly say I support, I still find compelling: Shahrazad leading Shahryar through the most intense talk therapy session in world literature, whatever the heck is going on with Velina and Tayzanne, the quasi-erotic dynamic of this proto-Little Red Riding Hood. Plus there's some terrific villain couples I love to hate, like the witch and her lover in "The Tale of the Ensorcelled Prince" (sorry, Burton's translation is all I could find online; if you have the chance, read Yasmine Seale's version of the text).

As you can tell, I've thought about this stuff a lot and I'm eager to talk about it. What are some of the romances and relationships you love / find compelling in fairy tales?

#ask response #ariel seagull wings #fairy tales #1001 nights #nixie of the pond #gold tree and silver tree #the grave mound #the wood maiden #the one handed girl #jack the master and jack the servant #the singing springing lark #tam lin #louliyya daughter of morgan #the farmer's clever daughter