#which made aquatic very hard for her

[mad-raptorzzz]

[ID: A drawing of two SeaWing dragons from Wings of Fire facing each other. Tsunami has her back to the viewer and is smirking with her ear tipped forward. She has mostly medium blue scales with dark blue along her spine and snout. Some of her aqua blue bioluminescent face scalers are lit up. She is smirking at Whirpool who floats in front of her. He looks stunned by the audacity of what she is saying in aquatic. His green-yellow scales are lighter on his belly and darker on his back. He has large ears for a SeaWing, which are adorned with several large hooped earrings each. Over his left eye, he has a small golden monocle which is suspended in place by a fine metal chain attached to one earring and one eye brow ring. Between them, in glowing and floating letters, it spells 'Squidface'/ End.]

The scene that made me laugh is when Tsunami learns how to speak Aquatic and the very first thing she learns how to do is basically swear. Headcannon that squidface is the SeaWing swear that functionally means dickhead. Which I think fits Whirlpool well. I tried to make him as oily as possible. His ears normally droop under the weight of all the hoops. But he's so surprised that they're sticking up quite a bit. He also has some big ears for a SeaWing. All the better to put more hoops in. I may do a bit of a redesign at some point and give him gages because that would be sweet.

Love Tsunami. Next up is a scene that made me cry.

[harmcityherald]

The turtles got their new food and they seem to be liking it well. They had been using the sandbox all night in and out so it looks like I will be building a much bigger sand unit onto their enclosure. My other tank got a very expensive cleaning last night for peppermint and foremost. I also was able to get them an air stone. I also bought anything to vacuum out their tank and so last night they got quite the cleaning which will be finished this morning. I was also able to get half of my cutting done in my garden yesterday so my garden is finally taking off as well. Hopefully today I can put it in a little more work and bring my garden a little bit closer to being started. Artemisia is very watchful that I don't overwork myself because sometimes I have a tendency to where my garden is concerned. So the coffee is made and I'm sitting outside and enjoying it right now other than the fact that all my dinosaur buddies are sitting here in a circle looking at me in the trees bullying me to give them more food but we of course has suspended operations because of the bird flu. Sorry little guys but I think I know better than you I can read the medical journals you can't. So until I feel like it's safe again you guys are on your own I hate to say that. I guess I will offset that by giving my inside buddies a little more attention than they've been getting. The little tank is looking a lot better. Foremost loves the air stone much more than peppermint does. I think our reading let us to the correct decision that the snail needs an AirStone and that is exactly what she got. I also scraped off the six masses of eggs that she laid around the top of the tank, luckily I don't have a female to fertilize them all or I would have a million snails like I'm afraid I'm going to have a million Turtles before it's all over with. I won't be able to release them in the wild if it actually happened but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. I love my critters and my critters love me.

I would add more tags but they only allow me a certain number so I should end it there. Or else I'll talk myself right into a bad mood. And that's not fair to my little buddies is it?

Mark my word, we are all going to live to see the day to read about that man doing something incredibly stupid. I'm not going to try to lay any future or philosophical View on what that could be. Trust me, he's a pedophile with an arsenal of ghost guns. And it's a situation that I'm too old to try to help and solve. My other two grandchildren the one being autistic and the other being transgender make me want to reach out and help them and yet the transgender child is under extreme brainwashing by him. One time he even told her that he would fuck the lesbianism right out of her, and for me that's not something that should ever come out of a father's lips to a daughter ever no matter what the situation is at all. And yet that same transgender child, under his pristine Direction, hates my very guts. The only one in the family who would actually call you by your real name and would refuse to use your dead name and yet I guess the fact is that Alan loves his father and any concessions that meat had makes for her must make her feel at least somewhat accepted. But because of the Meathead Saga I do not get to see those two sets of grandchildren anymore. Because I'm a deep state leftist, if you can actually believe that's a reason to hold your children back from someone. That's very sad to me I have seven grandchildren all together. It is only two that I get to react and deal with everyday living here with me and I'm so thankful of that. Many people would say it's a financial burden I should not subject to myself to. But I've always been a firm believer that you never throw kids to the wind ever. Especially not in this fucked up world the way it is now. If you throw your kids to the Wolves you're no better than a Spartan throw in your baby off the edge of a cliff. And that's not how I was ever taught that parenting was done. I have never raised a hand to a child ever not in my whole life. I've always gotten so much more from children when you talk to them and treat them like people the people that they no doubt are.

Anyway, Meatheads brand of ineffectual terrorism doesn't really scare me in any way. I have no idea why I'm really on this this morning. Perhaps the youngers are arguing last night reminded me of the tension in the house when Meathead was here pretty much destroying everything in his path. We're trying to destroy everything in his path which included me. I had six police officers and four doctors all together bum rushed me in the room to convince me that I needed to press charges. I told him if I pressed charge does that means I won't be able to get them out of my house and the only thing I want is for them to be out of my house like tomorrow so I didn't press charges against him, which I'm sure he walks around in his own little tiny house Castle now Vindicated somehow that the cops wouldn't touch him when really it was me that kept that from happening. Trust me if it had been any other situation I would have made sure he got every little bit of punishment he deserved for it but it was more important for me to clear this place out and have a nice calm place for my Artemisia and our wonderful youngers

[kame-writes]

Some Hazbin Hotel Head Canons I have:

Pt.2

Alastor was both a moonshiner and bootlegger when he was alive. He would have been in his prime during Prohibition, and the hoof prints on his shoes were actually common among bootleggers. They were used to trick police that might try to track them by their footprints.

Those shoes are why he was mistaken by a hunter for a deer. The hunter was tracking the hoof prints.

Mimzys club was a speakeasy, and she was fully aware of Alastor being a serial killer. She used to provide alibis for him when he was alive, which is a reason he covers for and protects her now in their afterlife.

Angel and Husk probably crossed paths in life, but are completely unaware of it. Husk was born and raised in Las Vegas, and the mob was very heavily involved with running most of the casinos. Angel being a mafia son, would have definitely been in Vegas a fair amount before his death.

Sir Pentious used to be seen as a very powerful and dangerous Overlord. Then technology and electronics were introduced, making his steampunk innovation style outdated and people started to see him as a joke. He tried to keep up with the times, but it very bad at it and doesn't understand modern things.

The reason Vox has so many aquatic things and likes sharks, is thematic. The envy ring is aquatic and Vox is a very jealous and possessive person.

Valentino uses his saliva and smoke to make people more pliable and willing to agree with him, this also includes Vox. This is partly how they got together, because Valentino saw Vox as a way to further himself and grow his own power.

Nifftys Soul isn't actually owned by Alastor. She sticks with him because of mutual benefit for the both of them. He's also such a bad boy that she's drawn to being around him and helping him with his schemes.

Husk lost his soul because Alastor made him play an honest game, while Husk was a notorious card shark. The little gold token on Husk's hat is the dealers chip from their game as a reminder.

Husk was not a nice overlord. His redemption is going to rely on him admitting how bad he was in the past and accepting himself as a changed person.

Charlie is the only one who still doesn't realise Alastor is a cannibal. Which is why she was surprised he had a friend in Cannibal Town.

Lucifer knew full well who Alastor was, he was just being an ass. He correctly assumed that implying Alastor was a nobody or not important was the biggest insult he could throw at him.

Angel Dust is always broke. This is partly because before coming to the hotel he was renting an apartment from Valentino with ridiculous rent, and he's still working/paying off his debt.

Before meeting Valentino, Angel was more mafia with his brother. They had a very turbulent relationship, since they weren't very close when they were alive due to Arakniss being more Conservative and serious like their father. They have barely spoken since Angel became a famous porn star, and Angel just assumes that Niss now hates him for being 'an embaressment'.

Part of the reason Angel let Valentino take his soul and lead him to where he is now, is because Val was the only/first person to really encourage Angel's more feminine side and sexuality, and find it attractive. He fell hard for the love bombing, and then had a very rude awakening once Valentino no longer needed to play nice.

Fat nuggets is very special to Angel. He was never allowed pets, and despite him being one of Vals love bombing presents, it reminds him of how happy he was before he learnt the truth about why Val was so loving to him.

[hoofpeet]

you mentioned capicorns once and I’ve been thinking about it. Are they a species in hoofology? Is Penny one? (Or half capicorn??) How do they look like?? (If I remember in one of your post, Penny can outlive satyrs because she’s one?? Also a tadpole stage?? With so much siblings?.)

I apologize if this is a bit too much, it has been spinning in my head for a while.

They are !! The name Capricorn comes from the fact that they're a result of mixing between a goat satyr and a Siren (Sea-dwelling species)

- Naturally they're a semi-aquatic species meant to live in coastal areas- they hatch as tadpoles and eventually grow legs around age 5.

-All Capricorn came from a single brood of probably upwards of a thousand eggs. As such, Capricorn aren't really an established species- which made Penny feel like an outcast as a kid, since there wasn't anything recorded about her species at the time.

-Penny's [satyr] mom just had a one-night stand with the fish lady she met, so she didn't really expect to lay a ton of eggs afterwards and kinda panicked about it- so she just dumped them in a nearby river. As a result, a lot of Penny's brood was washed around to various parts of the world. [Sirens use other species as incubators for their eggs]

-Penny ended up hatching in a lake in Wales, where she spent her tadpole phase. When she hatched, she started hanging out on shore and wandering around the nearby woods. Someone from the nearby town eventually found her, mistook her for a lost/abandoned satyr kid, and took her to the local boarding school, where she was adopted by Agate :]

-Since Penny looks mostly like a satyr, she was treated as such and raised on a satyr diet. Meaning she was somewhat deficient in some essential nutrients and sick often as a kid, until someone figured out that Capricorn, being a carnivorous species, probably need a special diet. As an early 20 year old she's kinda skinny and small for her species </3

- Penny didn't know she had hundreds of siblings out there as a kid. She was actually very lonely growing up, so that came as a shock.

-Said brother (King) Runs a nightclub that doubles as a hub for his fellow capricorn- his goal being to reunite as many of his siblings as possible and establish them as an official species.

-Penny, who, up until this point, has felt like a complete misfit for not even knowing what species she is, latches onto them really hard. She ends up running the club with King and involving herself with her siblings pretty hard. Other siblings include Strawberry and Sweets :]

[bogleech]

i keep wanting to draw anthro maggots but they end up looking like beetle larvae instead- any ideas on how one might stylize a maggot person to make it a little more distinctly A Maggot? it's especially hard to me bc maggots are like THE MOST featureless insect larvae.... which i suppose counts as a defining feature in and of itself- but i dunno. im mostly just curious to hear your approach!!!

Yeah beetle grubs, caterpillars and a lot of other insect larvae have armored heads with complete jaws structures as well as six little legs, plus they often have a defined looking "top" and "bottom" with ridged and wrinkles almost like they got soft armored down their back

But maggots are weird! They streamlined EVERYTHING down to where they have no legs at all, not even vestigial ones, and their body segments almost evolved towards something like radial symmetry by being the same all the way around!

Then there's the fact that they sort of lost most of a "head." Not only is there no exoskeletal cranial case (bug skull) to protect it but there are no jaws and never any eyes; there's just a little hole for drinking liquefied food, a pair of tusk-like hooks for gripping surfaces, and a pair of eye-like knobs that are actually chemosensory (noses)

The weird, tiny walrus-face is totally unique! They don't have any chewing mouthparts because they only need to "drink" the particles of rotting matter they live on, and like adult flies, they help this along by secreting digestive enzymes!

Maggots also have these very distinct, furry looking bands at every segment, which help them grip surfaces like a tire tread or the sole of a shoe. If you compare this photo with the one above you'll also notice how the segments can retract in and out like a telescope!

The last special thing about common maggot anatomy is that they are technically semi-aquatic animals, because maggots evolved to be buried head-first completely in their own food as much as possible and rotten corpses are WET. In order to breathe, maggots have a pair of breathing spiracles on their rear ends, which they try to keep exposed to the air!

There are exceptions to all of this, though; there are species that can be fully aquatic, fully terrestrial, herbivorous, parasitic or predatory, and some ancient fly groups (including mosquitoes!) whose larvae still have fully armored heads and even eyes. Everything above is universal to the maggots you find in rotten stuff though, so what most people think of when they hear the term :) When I designed a hybrid human and blowfly maggot for the Mortasheen setting I deliberately made it look like a doofy cartoon Walrus, and I gave its segments large spines that can be seen in some parasitic maggots, including botflies:

And when I made a maggot character for my webcomic Awful Hospital I designed her like a little spacesuit or a parka (the resemblance to Kenny was an accident)

Actually I don't think I ever shared this most recent "main artwork" of Maggie. I don't know what idea inspiration any of this might provide but basically a maggot is a prickly living sock with fangs. Or I guess from a design and engineering perspective, a maggot is a biological drill. The tiny end starts a hole, the rest of the body is just a flaring cone perfectly equipped to keep making the hole deeper.

[desire-mona]

siiiigh. todd autism headcanons because im projecting.

(using they/he/she pronouns for todd in this post. will explain but also if u dont agree i dont care, tw for alcoholism. time period is vague but autism hasnt existed as a legitimate medical diagnosis for all that long, so keep it in mind i guess.)

- cannot for the life of him stand welton's blankets. so itchy, just thin enough to not warm you up enough but still make you sweat, not long enough to cover your entire body. yes im making the blanket line in their poem about actual blankets, a boy needs to vent somewhere.

- beyond terrible temperature regulation, ALWAYS just a little too hot which is made worse by her sensory issues when it comes to wet fabric. constant slight agony and it never really goes away. theyre about 5 minutes away from crying about how uncomfortable they are at all times.

- had god awful handwriting until high school, like his teachers could BARELY read his handwriting it was Bad. OOOOOH OH MY GOD THERES A TRAIN GOING BY I CAN HEAR IT HONKING this is a really ironic thing to be pointing out rn but its sooooo worth mentioning. its still honking this is fun. 🚂. anyway. her parents made her spend an entire summer fixing her handwriting bc that was like the One thing her teachers criticised. its Fine now but their motor function simply doesn't deliver in the handwriting department.

- had a VERY INTENSE special interest in aquatic life + marine biology growing up, like read every book about any ocean animal in any library intense. his parents eventually forced him to abandon it because its "not a good career focus" but he still perks up when anyone mentions fish. once talked neils ear off about the biodiversity of coral reefs for roughly 2 hours, neil took her to an aquarium for their first date. rip todd anderson you wouldve loved spongebob squarepants.

- looooves pets, namely cats, but they have Too Sweaty hands all the time so any animal fur sticks onto their hands and just feels. so awful.

- had a brief period in his 20s where he was definitely an alcoholic, started as a social drinker but got too addicted to the feeling of not having to adhere to social conventions quite as hard, especially around other drunk ppl. eventually went sober after they realised they just Cant Stand the feeling of a hangover anymore. autistic ppl r more likely to develop a dependency on alcohol if we do start drinking. just btw.

- gets a Pretty Expansive vocabulary after actually starting to pursue literature. sometimes his family lightly teases him about using big words but it confuses the hell out of him. its just a word she thought would apply best!!

- soooooo obsessed with what other ppls idea of them is, both in an anxious way and out of genuine curiosity. would never ask ppl what they think of her bc she thinks thats 1) very broad 2) seems compliment fish-y and 3) just gonna lead to "i think ur great/ nice/ whatever filler compliment." but the dream is to sit someone (neil) down and just ask him every single question possible about how he perceives him.

- asks a billion clarifying questions about anything someone asks him to do, gets anxious about how many questions he's asking, tries to just figure it out, freaks out about the possibility of getting it wrong, ends up doing the thing perfectly. weekly occurrence.

- never fully grasped the appeal of religion (most definitely grew up catholic or christian or Something) just bc she could NOT let the lack of proof go. ALSO not an atheist bc the vastness of space scares them out of it. religious beliefs r a weird topic for them.

- suppresses a good chunk of his stims in public bc One total time someone looked at him weird while he was chewing on a sweatshirt string and he was like i gotta stop NOW. eventually develops tics and has to mask THOSE in public too. dear god someone let this girl unmask. also i started ticcing while writing that bc my body does this great thing where i only tic when im reminded of the concept of ticcing. its great and totally doesnt make me think im faking them (faking for who? dunno bc it usually happens when im alone)

- DOES in fact stim around neil bc NEIL STIMS TOO!!!!!!!! joyous day when they found THAT out! gets vocal stims of random lines from whatever play neil is practicing for. YEAA ART THOU THEEEEREE was a vocal stim for a solid week and a half which made neil VERY excited (autistic neil. how i love u autistic anderperry)

- velcro is The most evil vile disgusting material to ever grace this mortal realm. he hates it more than anything ever and i mean that fully. the feeling of BOTH sides, the noise, how easily it comes apart, she hates it all.

this is the gender part

never really viewed gender and gender roles as anything to adhere to beyond the fear of punishment if they dont. finds any social convention relating to gender to be Really dumb and meaningless, bc gender isn't (scientifically) real in any capacity, so why treat it like that? for the longest time just shrugged and said "eh, i guess im a boy" bc thats what she was used to being told, and didn't feel particularly drawn to agree OR disagree. eventually realised on a late night that Wait. i dont Actually care what i am. like yeah im a Male i guess but also im just me. my brain doesnt have a gender and i basically am my brain, right? and then never really thought about it again because that's genuinely how little he cares. adhering the most to canon with that mindset, she never really tells anyone (for obvious reasons on top of the overall apathy) and just lets the he/him happen to her but. in my dream world? agender they/he/she todd anderson. and this is MY blog so those are the pronouns im using from now on. i will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl very often view gender differently than allistic ppl, will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl are more likely to be trans. autism!!!

also yes that entire paragraph is just my view of gender, change the pronouns and the todd mentions and its just me. what of it.

[hedgehog-moss]

I had one of those dreams last night where you make a friend and then wake up and miss your dream-friend... I dreamt that I found an adorable creature in the stream near my house, it looked like a little manta ray but with a hard and scaly back like an armadillo. It was like a tiny marine dinosaur and I lovingly carried it back home and put it in the greenhouse fish tank. I named it Creil-Creil because that was the sound it made when it pondered things while gnashing its little teeth. Then it started mind-controlling me—Creil-Creil liked hot water so twice a day I poured oil into the fish tank and set it on fire. Some of my plants caught fire and my mum said, are you sure you want to keep doing this? And I was like yeah!! who needs plants in a greenhouse Mum. 

Then I realised (in a spike of terror that almost woke me up) that I had never fed the poor thing and didn’t know what she ate (aside from all my fish) and I suddenly felt extremely keen to invite people to visit. Visitors came, and my new aquatic best friend ate their hands. I mean I kept bringing people near the tank and saying “feel free to pet her!” and petting her myself while she creil-creiled happily and then people petted her and she leapt out of the water and bit off one of their hands (rarely both, which felt considerate), and then I brought the next person. Many more awful things happened and in the end Creil-Creil became very hated (not by me, I loved her); I had villagers with pitchforks wanting to kill her and signing petitions, and then! Pandolf got stuck in a badger’s hole and she crawled out of her fish tank and dug him out with her little claws, so she became a hero. I was so happy, everyone was cheering her (not clapping, on account of all the missing hands.) You can tell my brain was desperate to get people to love this poor misunderstood little evil thing so it went like..... and then she saved a dog’s life!!! The end <3

[bakawitch]

Fourth Prince Zelus, Prince of Greed

Zelus - Envy is an odd character to say the least. Overly paranoid and insecure, they stick to Chevalierose's side like glue. They have a very fragile ego and they get agitated very easily. They're always suspicious of someone and tend to overthink things. Zelus's deal with Mistress Moon wasn't exactly fair and it made a lot of issues present in their regular life worse, but they doesn't regret it because the powers they gained from becoming a Prince aided them in getting closer to their 'soulmate'. Zelus raves a lot about their soulmate which can either be words of adoration or jealousy fueled hate depending on their mood. They tend to be very stubborn and vocal during meetings and refuse to do anything without a good enough reason. Zelus dislikes all other Princes except for Chevalierose. They think of him as their closest friend and the only one who truly understands them in the organisation. They're very dependent on him for moral and emotional support and they would do almost anything he asks of them in return. True to their title, they tend to get very easily jealous over him spending time with other Princes. While the intensity of his appreciation for Chevalierose goes unrequited, they will always be most loyal to him. This usually applies to Ante the most. Ante and Chevalierose spend way too much time messing around for their liking, they always steal his attention away from them and they constantly make very upsetting comments about Zelus. Ante tends to say things that Zelus is just a weaker version of them which usually ends up pushing them over the edge into an outburst. Another Prince that they have pretty similar issues with is Gévaudan. Zelus knows how Chevalierose feels about him and he absolutely can't stand it. They think Gévaudan is hardly deserving of their friend's attention and they actively try to keep them apart, drive a wedge between them if they can. However, the scorn they feel towards him is nothing compared to their hate for Rothbart. Rothbart never considers their input in anything and refuses to explain any reasons behind his plans. Not to mention that he constantly antagonizes them and Chevalierose without any reasonable cause. His reasons for disliking Mille-feuille and Agni are pretty mild compared to those mentioned above, they doesn't even interact with them all that much. Mille-feuille they dislike because Chevalierose hates her, and Agni they dislike because Chevalierose likes her. Zelus has a horrible habit of attaching themselves to a person and obsessively focusing all their positive attentions on them. While they still focus on their 'soulmate' the most their obsessive tendencies are made infinitely worse by their Prince form. They completely give into the sin they represent. They are very rarely made to do field work because of their unsuitability to high stress situations. Zelus usually works from the sidelines and the background. In their civil lives they're in their early twenties and plays the bass in an up and coming indie rock band. Due to their unstable nature they're almost never given command over anyone. They're usually either paired up with Chevalierose, Funnel Web, the Spider miraculous holder, or sent out solo.

Zelus has the ability to naturally camouflage into their surroundings making them relatively hard to spot. They're the most adapt to underwater and aquatic travel/fighting among the Princes.

Their main ability is absolute thievery, meaning that they are capable of stealing anything and everything such as concepts, qualities, items, emotions and powers as long someone considers themselves the owners of said subject. Zelus can steal multiple targets, but they can only use one of them at once. The rest of the Princes are immune to this ability.

[staenless]

I will say as a certified horse girl I didn't like the kelpie in the last episode. Not for any like moral or whatever reasons, in fact as someone who grew up around horses I believe they have an amazing capacity for horror realistically or fantastically. Kelpies are a great horror creature, a horse who isn't a horse, waiting and playing on our idea of horses as prey animals and less dangerous so they can eat us. 10/10 creature. I just think it looked lame as fuck.

Obviously I don't go into shows that aren't horse-centric expecting good horse representation. Honestly I'm pissing my pants with excitement that horses are even MENTIONED in my favourite manga/anime. But i am a horse girl and I'm allowed to 1)be critical of horses and 2)talk about how I'd have done the kelpie if I had the chance. So let's take a look at our kelpie!

The proportions are fine, the animators fell victim to Horse Pec syndrome (common occurance, horses have a lot going on 9n their pecs and it's difficult to show this realistically without giving horses tits). The ribs and chest... Are weird? Anne has this weird dip to her stomach that shouldn't be there, and I can't think of a reason for a kelpie specifically to have this. On a real horse something like that would be a sign of an ill fitting girth/improper care and potential abuse, you'd wanna see a vet.

The hooves are good and I really like the seaweed feathers (hair that hands over the back of the hoof).

I like the shark tail made from tail hair/seaweed and really sets Anne apart from real horses while emphasising her aquatic nature. This is a water monster, not a horse. I love the dorsal stripe up her spine it's so cute!!

Her mane being curly while her tail isn't is a bit weird to me but I think it emphasised that it's SEAWEED not hair and this bitch is DAMP. I did not like her face because it's so bizaar looking??? Her neck is quite thick going into her skull which is fine btu for some reason in some scenes she has a double chin? Which is literally impossible for a horse to have?

As you can see here horses have a hollow at the base of their skulls between their cheeks so no matter how they tip their head they cant have a double chin, just wrinkles. It wasn't often I saw it but you can see in the top picture of Anne it's shaded in and it just looks weird to me? Also parts of Anne's face are very bulbous including her nose and like yeah a horses nose can flare (usually if they're stressed, tired or curious) but that's not what's happening here. Also I'm pretty sure Anne is based on a draft horse, and they usually have some sort of Roman nose and big head. Maybe I'm bothered by her facial proportions because of that?

Draft horses are thick sturdy animals and a lot of non-horse enthusiast artists use them in their work because they're so visually satisfying. I mean look at this big boy. The problem is her proportions aren't quite right, her hind quarters are very slim, the back of her head has some weird lump? Not sure what that is? Her head is possibly too small and her lips/nose are just. I don't even know what's going on there.

Personally I think since Anne is a predator I'd probably base her on a hot blooded breed. I think an Arabian would make a great kelpie, they're a fast moving breed that's compact and powerful, and the way they look after a run, nose flaring, veins throbbing through their skin, twitching and hopping where they stand, could be very scary is channeled into a predatory instinct. Draft horses are far stronger but are much slower moving, so this probably fits into Anne's long term plan to lure Senshi into the water. However if we were casting based on aggression and bloodlust Anne would realistically be a Shetland pony.

Ask any horse fanatic and they'll agree with this conclusion.

You might argue that animating a horse in an "anime style" is hard but the horse doesn't have to be stylised to fit in the anime. I personally believe that trying to achieve as realistic a horse as possible is better for the overall look than stylising it right off the bat.

This gif by @ostinlein has a realistically proportioned and animated horse in a more cartoonist setting and it works really well! Also it's just plain beautiful! Something like this, maybe with slightly fewer details in the mane, tail and feathers would work well in the dunmeshi anime.

So Anne's anatomy isn't the best, and it seems to be just a generic horse with mismatched parts. She seems to be a warm blood but also a draft. I think?

Again just having a horse in the anime is exciting and I'm glad she looks as good as she does, animating horses when you're not a horse lover is probably extremely difficult and I can appreciate that her movements are all pretty decent and recognisably equine. Horse paces are very complicated and tricky things, there's a reason a horse galloping was the first thing ever filmed, and the few places we do see Anne's legs moving they move right. So kudos to the animators for that.

Kelpie art by @fishylookingdeer

A kelpie with a proper draft horse base for reference.

Dungeon Meshi the manga is, in my opinion, and adventure comedy with horror elements. I'm sure a lot of fans agree with me that there are moments in the anime that are genuinely horrific and terrifying, and not just in the end. The entire world of dungeon meshi is pretty damn scary and it's only because our main character is a joyful idiot that the manga has such an optimistic outlook despite the circumstances. The anime doesn't carry the horror many readers expereince through though, which is a little disappointing imo. Earlier I mentioned I believe horses in both realistic and fantastical setting have incredible capacity for horror and so I wanna take a second to share how I think Anne could have been scarier!

First off Kelpies aren't horses. They're mimicking creatures that disguise themselves as horses to lure you onto their back and into the waves, and so the best way to make a kelpie scary is to make them not-quite-a-horse. A horse, but slightly to the left. Anne has light blue eyes with no focus, I think that's pretty cool BUT what I'd really like is Anne to have normal horse eyes possibly with her pupils the wrong way.

Horses eyes have this horitonal still for a pupil, I think giving Anne pupils but verticle would be a subtle way of showing she's not really a horse while also nodding to her predatory nature, like a cats eye.

When horse watch you they usually move their whole head, and then they're calm you can usually only see the coloured part of their eyes. However when a horse is panicking the white of their eyes show and they look around frantically. I think giving Anne normal horse eyes (with a fucked up pupil) and then having her show the white of her eyes by tracking the part members with her eyes only would be really cool! This is NOT normal horse behaviour, but predatory animals do this to reduce movement and scaring their prey away. It would be a subtle "something isn't right here" way to make the audience uncomfortable.

Horses also can't open their mouth a ton. Don't get me wrong they can grab onto your arm or leg if the mood strikes them but they cant truely open their jaw much. They also can't pant. Honestly I didn't even think of the panting till I saw this gif by @rcrisdraws and now I can't stop thinking about it

Don't like that...

In conclusion I liked Anne, I liked a lot of her design and some of her animation was good (when she attacked Senshi was particularly nice). While I have some nitpick qualms with her proportions I think for a non-horse oriented show she's perfectly acceptable. I think she could have been truely terrifying if the animators wanted her to be, but that's wishful thinking on my part. If you've read all this way through my rambles then please take a moment to check out the artists I've mentioned, their work is stunning and they deserve love.

[angrygirlromero]

OCEAN EYES PT. 4

Summary: In which the son of the God of thieves, is head over heels in love with the daughter of the sea God.

Warnings: possible grammar mistakes.

Pairing: Luke x daughter of Poseidon x Little brother Percy

------------------------------------------------------------

"Did you pack enough clothes?" "Yes ma'am" "Did you pack the first aid kit I left on your camping bag?" "Yes Ella-" "Did you-" "Take it easy princess I’m pretty sure Percy has everything he needs, I was there when he was packing" said Luke placing a comforting hand on Marella's lower back.

"I am only making sure, love" said the sea princess offering Pecy a soft smile as they stood by the border near Thalia's tree, "Well I am assuming Dionysus gave you your allowance" asked the older girl.

"Yeah he did, two hundred cash and a few drakmas?" said Percy with an unsure look, causing Annabeth to roll her eyes at his words, "They're called Golden Drachmas, get it right" said the Athena girl with an annoyed expression, erupting giggles from the couple before them as grover simply shook his head in disapproval.

"Don't be too hard on him Beth, remember to have patients, I ask you" said the daughter of Poseidon to the daughter of Athena, the younger girl nodded in agreement, "Please Grover watch over them, and bring them back alive" "Of course Ella, I promise"

-

Since the departure of the trio from Camp Ella had found herself feeling rather anxious, even the fish could sense it, she did not wish to pass her worry onto her beloved aquatic friends, but they too were worried about a war, about their homes and kingdom.

Marella found herself seated at the edge of dock once again this time the sun had already gone down, this was the place where she had first opened up to Percy about herself, the very day they had discovered that they were siblings, being close to the water always made Marella feel closer to her home, to her father.

Moving her feet in the deep fresh water Ella's eyes focused on the water her body soon stiffening at the sight of a glowing figure, a nereid, she sat at the bottom of lake staring up at the girl with eager eyes.

Ella wasted no time on pushing herself from the dock and into the water her body making instant contact with the water causing her senses to be awoken, by being in it's rightful place, water.

"State your business here" demanded the princess as she floated with her head held high a bright glowing tiara taking shape upon her head, Marella knew it was wrong for her to interact with nereid she was most likely sent by her father, and this interaction could get them both in big trouble.

"A message from you father, princess" said the woman calmly lowering her head in respect, "If your brother is not successfully with his quest by the time of summer solstice Zeus will officially declare war upon us, if that time comes your father wishes to have you at the ready to fight along side him in battle" said the Mythical woman.

"What of my brother?" asked Marella with a hard look in her sea blue eyes, "If he does not succeed what will happen to him?" asked the princess, "No harm shall come to your brother if he does not succeed, he shall be released from his quest and returned safely to camp" said the woman offering the princess a reassuring look.

"You on the other hand shall be returned to Atlantis" continued the woman, at her words Ella nodded in agreement, she would loose her place at camp her friends, Luke and Little Percy, but if that meant they would be safe Ella was willing to leave them all behind.

"I am aware, if that is all you are dismissed, I shall wish for your safe return home, tell my father that I am at the ready" said Marella not wasting another moment before making her way to the shore.

Marella made her way way out of the water calmly as her mind raced, she belonged here at camp, but her duty demanded her return home, "Ella?" called out a familiar voice, Marella's gaze snapped to Luke who stood by the shore, his lips parted in amazement at the sight of his girl, she was glowing in the water, and a tiara on her head, her form displaying a true ocean princess.

Ella took a few steps more finally coming out of the water to stand before Luke, Luke watched intently as the tiara before her head faded away into thin air as her glow soon decreased leaving just, Marella, his Ella.

"I- I was looking for you all over, you missed dinner, I took you a sandwich to your cabin but you weren't there so-" Luke stopped his rambling as Ella reached her hand up to his face, her soft fingers trailing over his rough scar, "You mean the world to me Luke" said Ella quietly, only loud enough for him to hear.

Luke's heart was beating out of his chest, his face flushed hot and red, as he let out unstable breaths, "I- I- y- you" the Hermes boy stuttered out, "you don't have to say anything my love" said Ella with a soft smile.

"My Love" her love, he was her love? she had never called him that before surely she called him only love, but Ella called even Clarisse love, despite the Ares girl's protests at the nickname, she called everyone love but never "My love", Luke could've died right there and then, he would pass a happy man for eternity.

Marella stared up into his dark brown eyes pure love and adoration evident in them, she bravely stood to the tips of her toes her arms snaking around his neck, and her hands tangling themselves into his soft curly hair, as she pressed her lips to his.

Luke froze for a mere second before he dipped down deepening the kiss, his hands arms wrapping themselves around her small waist, she bit his lip causing him to groan out, with a smile at her sneaky action.

This felt unreal, he had been dreaming of this moment since the moment he met her and finally it had become reality, he no longer felt as if he walked on the ground, fireworks seemed to be erupting inside him, she tasted of sea water and blueberries, just like he imagined she would.

Marella soon broke the kiss her eyes on Luke's as they both stood there breathlessly, "You have no idea how long ive been wanting to do that" breathed out the Hermes boy contently as he held his girl, "Believe me my love the feeling is very mutual" said Marella contently.

"I love you" Ella froze at Luke's words, she had not been expecting those words to come from his mouth, she was left startuck, “Luke, I-" "You don't have to say it back, at least not now, I just wanted you to know."

-

Two day had passed since since Ella and Luke had confessed their feelings for one another, two days since she had been informed what was to happen if Percy failed, and for the two days Marella had been contented, Luke had not left her alone not for a second, the Hermes boy unable to keep his wondering hand off of her.

The sea princess had not heard word from her brother, not since she had hear that he had a confrontation with Ares himself on the road, it was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth since then.

But today was the day she would finally know her stance, Ella laid on the soft mattress of her bed her gaze focused on the ceiling of the room where wooden models of sea creatures hung from the ceiling, hand painted by Ella herself, her hands once more tangled in Luke's soft curls's.

Luke's head was resting in the crook of her neck his handsome face contoured into a peaceful expression as he slept, his steady breaths fanning Ella's neck and the sounds of soft snores welcomed themselves into her ears.

His strong arm's wrapped around her wait lovingly, holding onto her tightly as if he let go she’d disappear into thin air, certainly she would not, right? they were happy, for once despite Ella's rushing mind she had been happy the past days, sure her and Luke had broken the rules having him here but that did not matter.

They were both soon interrupted by the sound of loud trumpets blasting through the camp ground, because of course nothing so sweet and pure ever lasts, the loud sound jolting Luke awake, the Hermes boy quickly standing to his feet with ease, instantly reaching for the dagger that laid in his boots at the bed's feet.

"Be calm, my love" said Marella with a sad smile, his beautiful girl stood from the bed slipping on her slippers, Luke frowned as he watched his girl, why was she sad? what was that noise? he watched Marella make her way to the cabin door a stern look taking upon her beautiful face, no Luke did not like that look, he wanted to sooth the crease between her eyes brown away, he wanted to kiss her lips until they turned into her bright and beautfile smile, the same one that made his heart race.

Marella stopped at the door as if contemplating something in her head, but that only lasted a moment before she pushed the large doors open, she walked out, "Ella!" called Luke after her as he waisted no time in following her.

Luke watched as all the campers poured out of their cabins everyone rushing to Lake, the same direction Marella had rushed off to, Luke quickly jogged to the lake his eyes searching for her small figure in the group of teens.

He soon stopped as he reached the edge of the Lake where other couplers stood attempting to calm their kids, in the water stood a man, Poseidon, with him were several other men who looked unreal but they had tails, and weapons standing protectively in front of their God.

Luke's gaze soon found Ella in the crowd, Luke watching as the campers around her parted like a sea for her to pass, Poseidon held a proud look on his face as he watched his daughter emerge from the crowd, he dark curls held neatly in two braids framing her matured face beautifully.

Luke stepped forward as Ella began to take take small step into the water, had she known all this time? he asked himself how could she just leave him so easily? they had just found each other, and she was leaving him? to war to get herself killed by Zeus and Hades' monsters? Luke was selfish, yes this was her destiny, but couldn't allow it.

Luke rushed forward to her, grabbing at her hand softly, causing her eyes to snap back to him, her face softening for a second but soon retiring to it’s hard expression, "Don't do this ella, please" he pleaded, "You know better than anyone that I have no choice" she mumbled under her breath, her eyes pleading him to let her go, "No I finally got you after all this time and you're leaving me, you can't do this to me, princess" Luke said his voice breaking every so slightly.

Marella glanced back at her father who seemed to be glaring daggers at Luke, her father, her beloved father, who had taught her everything she knew, the god of the sea, he had raised her to be everything she was, now he asked a favor of her, she could not decline it, even if it would lead to her death.

Luke's head snapped to his side as he felt Mr. D's hand on his shoulder, "Let go kid" he muttered to the Hermes boy, "No- I-" "You have to let go Luke" said the god sternly.

Luke's gaze returning to Ella's he watched her eyes water, "Please" she said, Luke's heart broke, she didn't want this just as much as him, but it was her destiny, he remembered his own words "it's because your dad has bigger plans for Ella" he told Percy.

Luke let go, Ella's hand falling to her side as he stared at her with a longing gaze, "Come back to me, alive" he mumbled for her to hear, "I will" she said, before making her way to her father's side.

The entire camp held their berths as they watched a tiara take form on Marells's head, her PJ's turing into a deep blue gown fit for a princess, her true form.

Poseidon smiled slightly at his daughter, offering her his arm, which she gracefully took, Ella turned back her gaze meeting Luke's "I love you" she mouthed to him before she disappeared into the water with her father.

A tear slipped down Luke's cheek, the tear trailing down his scar, a heart broken look on his face, Marella had his heart and she had taken it with her, this wasn't her fault, his sweet Ella who loved the ocean more than anything, this was Percy's doing, Poseidon's doing, Zeus’ doing.

For this they would pay, Percy Jackson had failed and for his mistakes his beloved sister would pay the price, for his foolishness Percy Jackson would pay the price Luke promised himself.

Tag list:

@yummytootybutt 🎀 @mxtokko @poppyflower-22 @starryhiraeth @trashmouthsahra @purplerose291 @iloveneilperry @onlyreadz @mahidahi @stevenknightmarc @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok @dracoslovergirl @pussyslayerhd @sparklybearcheesecake @moonz33 @skwangmbyul

A/N: So before anyone comes for me, here's chapter four, I am so sorry I completely forgot I even wrote this series for a spit second, but seeing the new Percy Jackson teaser brought back my inspiration, I do plan on continuing with this series because I love Marella sm, I can't let her go, if you wish to be apart of the tag list don't be shy message me or comment <333

[canmom]

Wasn't one of the Nier girls the one where the creator was asked to design a swimsuit for a gatcha or something and he sent back her in an old-fashioned diving suit? You should go in that because it was very funny.

(I don't go here, but I do appreciate good old-fashioned trolling)

that was in SINoALICE!

Yoko Taro: “Mobile game devs tell me that swimsuit outfits make more money, so I should make one, so I made Dorothy’s aquatic outfit for her Cleric class, but the sales weren’t very good. The devs said, ‘not a diving suit like this! A swimsuit that shows more skin!!’ so I released Dorothy’s lazy bear minstrel class, but sales went down yet again. Who can trust these devs?” [src]

(this is Yoko Taro being his goofy self, there are plenty of skimpy outfits in the game. but it's a good bit.)

SINoALICE was a gacha in which various fairytale characters are incarnated in a vast library, overseen by two sinister dolls. Each one is searching for their author in order to fulfil a wish. Its characters are invariably very violent, and also there are many clones of each of them running around, and they might turn into monsters..? It's implied that the fairytale girls are actually real people who got isekaied into the library. I never got much further than that, since I hit a wall where it was hard to progress without a pretty severe grind.

Although it was overseen by Yoko Taro and definitely plays to the NieR design motifs, its actual ties to the NieR series are... not entirely clear. In true gacha fashion, it's had crossovers with just about everything you can think of. Spot some very unlikely entries like Higurashi (the ryuukishi07 visual novel) and Kakegurui (the gambling anime). So it doesn't mean very much that 2B et al showed up in there too.

But, it got a very overt reference recently in NieR Reincarnation's main story (you basically walk through a ruined version of the SINoALICE setting and read a message from the puppets) so... it's got something to do with it all, probably? Maybe the library exists inside the Cage, which is actually (it turns out) the [spoiler] on the [spoiler]! ...though would it even matter if it did?

Anyway, the game was recently shut down, but there are various fan efforts to archive its content, most of which are linked from here. There's a text archive on Accord's Library.

[kastlequill]

wrath of the lamb

pairing: sebastian krueger x f!reader word count: 6.9k synopsis: your first time hunting with dr. krueger tags: hannibal au, haunted hoedown, dark, serial killers, a couple that kills together stays together, enemies and lovers, unreliable narrator, unholy mentions of god, religious imagery, no y/n warnings: violence/death, blood/gore, mutilation, body horror, cannibalism, voyeurism (except the voyeur is dead), killing as foreplay, smut (blood + murder kink, hair-pulling, biting) ao3: read here  ← prev

“I am the shape you made me. Filth teaches filth.”

— Sophocles

Bait; that had been your role. The lure, the dangling bit of appetizer to ensnare prey on behalf of another. This particular catch of the day had believed you to be the fish to his fisherman, but you nonetheless had been bait, he the fish, and Dr. Krueger—

The fisherman.

Soon, you would be a fisherman yourself, capable of priming, reeling in, and fatally securing a wide array of aquatic life all on your own. Before that, however, there was much to learn about the sport and the art of choosing one’s hunting spot, of casting one’s net. Naturally, Dr. Krueger had been ever so enthusiastic to help bridge the gaps in your knowledge.  

Currently, the fish was tied up in the foyer, bound by his wrists and ankles to a wooden chair, the same in which you’d sat years ago as Dr. Krueger’s temporary patient. At the insistence of Agent Blaustein and your undiagnosed encephalitis, you had given therapy a shot. These visits had eventually increased in frequency, more so for the psychiatrist’s company than his pseudo sessions. 

Some attributed the progression of your relations with Dr. Krueger to be a product of fate and circumstance, but you knew better than that. Over the past several months, a deliberate and intentional hand had guided you to this very moment, everything meticulously planned and orchestrated by someone with a vested interest in your ascent. 

In your. . . becoming. 

What started as a chance meeting snowballed into a partnership between professionals, identifying and apprehending serial killers across the state together. Thereafter, a friendship did blossom, though this too evolved since your pure empathy made you highly susceptible to internalizing others; him. The line that separated your psyche from his thus gradually became muddied and blurred as you vacated your mind and beckoned in this monster among men. 

You would be hard-pressed to forget just how fervently he had appraised the order and disorder of your headspace. How worshipingly he had looked upon the ever-encroaching darkness that you kept shamefully hidden within the crevices of your bones, stowed away for fear of the day your worser nature might rise to the surface. How eagerly he had called forth that wickedness, that sin, happy to watch you partake and take. 

How easily he had metamorphosed you into the person you’d unwittingly been pursuing throughout all your years of existence. 

“The throat is a double-edged sword. It makes life possible, housing the airways, overseeing the safe passage of air into the lungs. But so too does it make death readily accessible, boasting the jugular vein, exacting a swift end if cut at just the right angle, the right depth,” an accented voice sounded from behind. 

Hopelessly obedient to the pull that locked your soul and his in perpetual orbit of one another, you cast a glance over your shoulder then looked down at the knife in his hand. It was an ordinary carving knife, blade sharpened and thrumming with excitement at the prospective union of steel and meat. More importantly, it was an offering. 

A gift.

Dr. Krueger quite enjoyed showering you with lavish presents, and he preferred the intimacy of being the craftsman in addition to the sender. To court you, he’d sawed off the tongue of the reporter who’d mocked your condition in her crude tabloids, coated the severed organ in poison, and shoved it down her throat until she choked on its toxicity. To express the extent of his devotion, he'd torn out the vocal cords of a suitor who’d made lewd comments about you at the opera house, fashioned them into a noose, and left him dangling from the ceiling to be discovered in the morning by a screeching primadonna. 

And to apologize for spilling your blood on his kitchen floor, he’d Frankensteined together a beating heart, openly baring his affections despite the penetrative gaze of all who sought to imprison the Cut-throat Killer. The sculpture, composed of a decapitated corpse’s inverted musculature instead of typical granite stone, had told a tale of repentance and of yearning.

My heart is yours. Broken and maimed though it might be, you have managed to assuage its ache and mend its pieces. This foreign object no longer fits properly in the cavity of my being, so do what you will with it. Even if you decide to break it once again, the resulting shards are still all for you only, just as it was. 

The twisted love letter had resulted from months of deceptive intentions, divided loyalties, and belated sacrifices. Your inevitable betrayal had struck dead the fantasy of a shared future. In his mourning, Dr. Krueger had gutted you to bestow a matching wound, yours a physical representation of his own intangible pain. However, contrary to previous prey, watching your face lose its vibrancy and a red puddle form around your twitching body had inspired not satisfaction, but fear. 

A certain desperation had seized him then. Losing you, a kindred spirit who had known and seen him, would have damned the man to a lifetime of loneliness. For someone incapable of thriving in total solitude, that was a terrifying notion.

So though the urge to slit your throat and cook you into a feast might occasionally possess him, though he might periodically contemplate cracking your skull open to reveal the beautiful brain that tormented him day and night, such calls-to-action would go unanswered. 

During periods of separation, he could easily convince himself that his feelings for you were an unnecessary suffering. A fruitless agony; a beacon of masochism. Ready to put an end to this mounting misery, a murderous plot would begin to take shape until your mere return resolutely derailed any plans of excising you from his destiny. 

Cyclical, the way he grew hungry in your absence, champing at the bit, gnawing on bone, only to find his stomach brimming with contentment upon spending a single moment in your presence. 

The rude were nothing more than livestock to a refined man like Dr. Sebastian Krueger. Just as the average non-vegetarian viewed chickens, cows, and pigs as rightful staples of their omnivorous diet, he believed disrespectful folk were no different to poultry, cattle, or swine. At least in death, these subhumans could transcend their lowly stations and reach new heights of beauty and value as his culinary masterpieces, as elaborate displays of mutilated art. 

Like God, he played judge, jury, and executioner, wielding the power to decide the earthly ends and undead beginnings of those he deemed lesser.

Between equals, however, consumption was to him the pinnacle of humanity’s capacity for love. Diligently preparing a delicacy of the vessel that housed a loved one, transforming their anatomy into a gourmet meal, was the supreme method of honoring them. Further still, intaking a pound of their flesh meant immortalizing a beloved by becoming the very urn in which the remnants of their existence could always be found. Whether they should depart by nature or by circumstance, a piece of them would forever stay inside this biological graveyard. 

The mixing of bloods, two pulses beating in synchrony, a dialogue between gullets. An irreversible breach of one’s external layer of protection that said, you are mine, and I am yours; the proof resides in the pits of our stomachs.

By his logic, if he were to eat you and satisfy his craving for fusion, then perhaps whatever hold you had over him would denature, eliminating the threat that this love posed to his livelihood. In actuality, a glimpse of you was plenty enough to sate his normally-raging appetite. 

To daily feel a stab of hunger and then obtain nourishment at the slightest bit of eye contact. . . that was how viscerally he loved you. 

Of course, Dr. Krueger hadn’t overtly verbalized these sentiments, but you nonetheless recognized and understood the unspoken truth. After all, pure empathy did not just expose you to the onslaught of his expert manipulation—it also unveiled his best-kept secrets.

“When hunting, one must always consider efficiency. Time is of the essence, as they say. It’s better spent on the artwork itself than on gathering your materials, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Your eyes jerked up to meet his appraising stare. Not the type to waste air on rhetorical questions, he raised a single scarred brow, and it only lowered once your fingertips answered by brushing the palm of his hand. As you plucked the knife from his grasp, its heavy weight took you aback. The hefty task of reaping an unclaimed soul added at least a few extra pounds to the blade, but you adjusted your grip until wielding it became effortless.  

At its core, killing was a fairly quick and simple endeavor. Humans often exited the world as fast as they had originally entered it, and, in a manner of speaking, your lives were just preparation for the inevitable return to that shadowy limbo from which you’d all been birthed. 

The fish had yet to regain consciousness, and you were determined to ensure that his eyes would never again open to anything but a dark abyss. 

You weren’t apologetic in the slightest for what was about to come. This bound asshat had been selected because he’d had trouble understanding the word no at a pub and spilled wine on an intervening Dr. Krueger’s prized coat. Such unprincipled behavior warranted an equally-indecent fate. 

Out like a light, his head was tilted back to rest on the back of the chair, displaying a ripe throat, fresh for the taking. And take you did, aligning your blade at the corner of his jaw and dragging it across the jugular, slitting his trachea, causing it to collapse unto itself. Liquid beads of crimson bubbled to the surface along the laceration, and the macabre necklace enraptured you. 

Your psychiatrist-turned-mentor had earned the moniker of Cut-throat Killer due to his apparent fixation on the neck and its surrounding regions. His kills were linked by this common denominator, whether a body was headless, or had a ripped-apart larynx, or had died by asphyxiation. Sometimes, Dr. Krueger liked to experiment with different finishing blows to keep the FBI on their toes, but his modus operandi never failed to involve the throat. 

It made sense, then, why you too had developed a similar appreciation. 

“Well done,” praised the doctor, now beside you, and the words set alight your bloodstream. His tone held no surprise; your profession had revealed your natural aptitude for the hunt and erased any reservations he might’ve had. From the very first day your paths crossed, he’d recognized what you were, what you could become. “Now, where do you wish to go from here?” 

A loaded question, one that dictated how the rest of the night would unfold. If you stayed in the foyer, cleaning up the grime and gore out from between each plank of wood would be an absolutely dreadful ordeal. If you went to the main room, splatters and stains on his Persian rug and fine fabric drapes would undoubtedly irk the man, and you quite preferred staying on his good side for the time being.

That left his extravagant kitchen. It was the ideal location—the freezer was conveniently placed, and the tools for harvesting meat were at your disposal. Also, in the not-unlikely event of blood running off the table’s edge, you could simply scrub the tiles spotless.

“The kitchen.” You diverted your focus from the dead man to the one who had mastered death itself. Although you were unsurprised to discover Dr. Krueger’s deep brown eyes already intent upon you, a chill cascaded down your spine nevertheless. He’d sooner gouge out the organs that granted him sight than stop his lingering stares, you knew. “Removing the skin from a fish this slimy is messy business. I wouldn’t want to ruin your nice hardwood floors. Black walnut?” 

His wide smile told a tale of predation tempered with adoration. “Wenge.”

You softly shook your head in fond exasperation. Of course he who settled for nothing but the best would choose one of the most rare and expensive species of hardwood in the world. 

The doctor held your gaze as he removed his outer layer, not wanting to sully a tailored, dry clean-only suit jacket. Once it was safely out of range, he cut loose the body from its restraints and dragged it to the kitchen with you trailing behind him. 

After hauling the corpse onto the center of the marble island, Dr. Krueger rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows and slipped on surgical gloves from his vest’s pocket, handing you a pair as well. He used scissors to reveal the man’s flesh beneath his clothes, took the murder weapon from your fingers, and made an incision that started at the collarbone and ended at the navel. Wrenching open the ribcage, snapping any resistant osseous matter, the doctor efficiently primed the carcass for harvesting before it could stiffen in rigor mortis. 

His work done, he unsheathed a sizable butcher knife, handed it to you, then stepped out of reach, content to watch you pick up from where he’d left off. You imitated his previous motions, careful not to sink the blade too far in lest you ruptured any organs. The last thing you wanted to do was accidentally ruin the meat. 

Meat. 

You’d discovered a couple of months ago that the delicious protein scrambles shared with you by the kind Austrian man had actually contained bits of strangers. Initially, the revelation had repulsed and angered you in its violation of your right to informed consent. But now, while you didn’t see the appeal of human cuisine, you could admit there was something uniquely intimate about a shared hunt, about the subsequent communion, the breaking of bread and bone. 

It was with this logic in mind that you proceeded to dissect the body according to the anatomical direction given by the doctor. First, you extracted the lungs, then the spleen and liver, next the stomach and gallbladder, the intestines and kidneys, and, lastly, the heart. 

The turn of the hour quickly came and went. You moved to push back some hair that had fallen out of place, wishing you had worn a hairnet, when you caught a glimpse of your lover’s current state. He stood to the side of the counter a few feet away, hunger plain on his face, erection evident through the fabric of his slacks. 

As ravenous for your fill of him as he was for a taste of you, you set the knife on the cutting board and started to walk over to—

“No.” 

The lone, measured syllable echoed throughout the large kitchen, ringing in your ears, and you instantly halted mid-step. A trait that separated the doctor from so many other men of his stature was his refusal to resort to yelling. He’d done a lifetime’s worth of it in the Austrian Armed Forces, had been his explanation, and it was beneath him. It signaled that one lacked omnipotence and control, that they didn’t have an effortless dominance with respect to the masses over which they resided. 

Dr. Krueger, however, had no shortage of charisma and no trouble garnering an obedient audience. The personification of sin beckoned you forward. “Crawl to me.”

Without hesitation, you slowly descended to the floor, gaze steady and stuck on his looming figure. Your clothed knees met tile first, then your palms followed suit as you navigated your way towards him through a pool of blood and innards. Something unnamed coiled tight in your stomach the nearer you drew to him who looked down at you, stoic and unfazed. From here, a passerby might think you a worshiper bowed in supplication to her god.  

For what purpose did you plead? 

If I should die, let it not be his blade that strikes the finishing blow. 

To what end did you pray? 

If he should rot in a cell, let it not be my testimony that sends him away.  

When your fingers brushed against his shoes, imprinting red on the fancy leather, the doctor leaned forward to snake a hand around to the nape of your neck, lightly massaging your scalp. The soothing pressure made your eyes roll back, but the false sense of security it had given you evaporated at the following sharp tug on the roots of your hair.

His grip firm, Dr. Krueger pulled you up until you were on your feet once again. Before you could properly calibrate to the change in orientation, he spun you to face the kitchen island then sandwiched you in between his pelvis and the counter. Squirming against him, your instincts commanded you to escape, but you remained steadfastly in place. Trapped.

Ensnared.

Skillful hands made quick work of your attire, throwing your belt to the ground, shoving your jeans and panties to bunch at your ankles, unbuttoning the flannel he’d called hideous yet endearing, snapping free your cheap bra. Satisfied with your current state of undress, Dr. Krueger used his teeth to tear off his gloves so that he could begin exploring the treasures he had uncovered.  

You never let him touch you with gloves. The sensation of latex on skin was too reminiscent of a butcher prepping slaughtered livestock to be further chopped up into refined cuts of meat. And you were not foolish enough to think you could ever be the butcher in this scenario. 

His hands journeyed up your front to your neck, rubbing at the splatter of blood there that had yet to be cleaned. Adamant on dirtying you further, he smeared it downward as he cupped the heft of your breasts and rolled your nipples between his fingers. You must’ve looked like a sacrificial offering to some deity, back bowed, though the only who would partake in the enjoyment of your flesh was him.

Once you were sufficiently marked, the man wiped any excess blood off his right hand and onto your stomach then continued his descent to the epicenter of your heat. When he finally reached your mound and dipped an explanatory finger inside, he found you wet and wanting. 

“Filthy thing,” Dr. Krueger admonished with a click of his tongue. “I’ve barely touched you, and yet here you are, already dripping onto the floor. Tell me, how long have you been like this?”

“Since you—” The rest of that sentence died in your throat, cut short by the featherlight brush of his thumb against where you wanted him most. A sudden jolt traveled through your body, and you struggled to form a coherent thought, let alone string together a sensical series of words. “Since you rolled up those stupid fucking sleeves, you bastard.” 

His answering smirk could be heard in the gravel of his voice, smug and self-assured. “I didn’t know my forearms had such an effect on you.”

Said forearms came into view as he encased you, both of his hands relocating to either side of yours, flat on the countertop. A knee replaced where his hand had been between your legs, and he ground it upward, pulling back whenever you tried to reciprocate, relief just out of reach. 

“Like hell you didn’t,” you snapped, your frustration getting the better of you. “Don’t play dumb, Doctor. It’s not a good look.” 

All traces of his humor evaporated at the snark. Announcing no warning, your lover sank two fingers into your weeping core, curling them to stimulate the spot within that never failed to make you see stars. He scissored you open and gathered enough slick to begin working in a third finger, intent on making you plead for forgiveness. Absolution. 

Most nights, Dr. Krueger prided himself in his patience, in his ability to draw out one, two, three orgasms from you before his cock got anywhere near your cunt. But tonight, you knew, would be different. It would be hard and fast. 

Carnal. 

Upon deeming you ready to take him, you heard the unclasping of a belt buckle followed by the zipper of his pants coming undone. A soft caress along the notches of your spine, and then he aligned himself with your entrance and immediately surged to erase the distance between your bodies, filling you to the hilt. 

The force of it caused you to double over, and your elbows buckled at the sudden shift in weight. With the side of your face now pressed against the counter’s cold surface, you couldn’t help the way your ass slightly elevated and protruded. This position felt explicit, dirty, and you gleaned from his sharp inhale that you looked as much from his perspective. Rather than allowing you to rise, Dr. Krueger dug a hand into your hair and pushed you further into the granite. 

“Have I neglected you, mein Schatz?” Each thrust was punctuated by a tug on your hair, a scrape against the surface, the repeated motion jostling you forward, while you fucked back into him. “Have I left you wanting? Is that why you’re so needy tonight? So rude?” 

When you didn’t answer, he retracted his hips until the tip was all that remained nestled in your warmth, leaving you empty and unfulfilled. Then, as though sensing you were on the verge of complaining, the doctor slammed home, yanking from you a pitiful mewl of agonized desire. 

“Please.”

This particular word was a shapeshifter; it adopted a different meaning based on ite context. Here, it served as a Hail Mary, as a cry for mercy, but you weren’t sure whether you were imploring his punishing rhythm to abate or for him to give you more. Regardless of your intention, Dr. Krueger intensified his torturous movements, a dark chuckle tumbling from his lips. 

Damn sadist. 

“Begging will get you nowhere. Not tonight.” At your despairing whine, he laughed again. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, you’ll get your wish. Eventually.”

So attuned to the ins and outs of your body, was this man, so intimately aware of where to press, where to pinch to elicit sweet melodies and moans. And yet, he toyed with you, glossing over these erotic zones, waiting for you to confess something before he might grant you penance, a token for your suffering. The thread of your sanity was wearing thin. 

“Stop teasing, or I swear to God.” 

You’d expected him to ignore your pleas as he had done before, but instead, you felt him thicken inside you. “Do it, then. Swear to me.”

His ego almost earned him an eyeroll, but you couldn’t help giving into his demands. The relentless pace he’d set was very persuasive, and you were only human.   

“Sebastian—”

It had the desired outcome. Hardly ever did you call him by his name, so if you did, that meant something. Due to said infrequency, using his name had a kind of Pavlovian effect on the man.

“Scheiße,” he groaned out the curse, hips stuttering forward and reaching a newfound depth that made you both gasp. “Yes, my heart, that’s right. You’ve made me your god, and I’ve made you. . .” 

. . . mine. 

Because that was the truth, wasn’t it? Dr. Krueger had plucked a rib from the cavity of his chest, sharpened it into a blade, and carved you into his vision of perfection. In turn, you had turned him into a conduit for your enlightenment, for your becoming. He was your tangible nirvana, and you were his sole gateway to heaven. 

The two of you had found religion in each other, and there was little else more dangerous than that. 

“Is this what you wanted? What you were so impatient for?” At your jerky nod, he seized your slackened jaw and tilted your chin up to direct your attention towards the kitchen island where the corpse still laid. “My, we haven’t even cleared the table yet. Can’t let the meat sit out, or else it’ll go sour.”

When your brain finally caught up to what—or to whom— he was referring, an epiphany struck you with startling clarity: 

This dead man was evidence of what had transpired here tonight. Better yet, he was the first witness to this taboo consummation. Perhaps it was stupid to believe that gave your relationship any real legitimacy in the world’s eyes, beyond the perimeters of this manor. Nonetheless, the thought caused you to involuntarily tighten, and you prayed the correlation would go unnoticed.

Dr. Krueger froze, because of fucking course nothing ever got past him. “Oh, you like that, do you? You like that we have a guest for dinner, that another finally sees the truth of what we are. Hunters. Lovers.” 

Oftentimes, being known was a riveting experience that bridged the gaping chasm of solitude. But there came moments when you wished to conceal the ugliness. You lowered your head, mortified that he might at last realize you were unworthy of his affection, his touch. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of when you’re here. This home is yours, Liebling,” he murmured, reverent as he resumed his torturous ministrations, regaining momentum. “I can think of no more beautiful a sight than you happy and honest in it. Never hide from me.”

A horrific prospect, baring one’s heart to someone so well equipped to tear it to shreds, but your walls were already beginning to crumble. Brick by brick, he dismantled you, intending to undo a lifetime of repression then reconstruct you in his image. 

Sex with Dr. Krueger wasn’t just a physical release. It was near ritualistic in its conjoining of two souls. It was a collision between two supernovas, a calamity in progress. 

It was an inevitability.  

What a pair you made—serpent and Eve. Ravisher and ravished, entangled in a web of debauchery and death. 

In spite of everything, you didn’t believe that he made you worse. He made you real. 

Time after time, warnings that this should never happen again would echo throughout your mind, but time after time, you found yourself in this same position, wrapped up in him. Coaxed by his sweet nothings and consumed with the way he alone understood what you still refused to speak aloud, it was through this union of flesh and bone that you elevated each other to art. 

And hell, if he made you worse, then you accepted that to be worse was to be honest. In this realm, you were closer to God than to the Devil. 

And was it not so that every devout follower hoped to be in league with their god, to be rewarded for their unshaken faith? What better way to actualize that hope than to devour?

A well-angled thrust brought you back to the present. Man or monster, God or Devil, neither distinction mattered as he pummeled into you, a fusion of the ultimate caliber. In this room, he was not your enemy, just the equal who helped you ascend to great heights, who guided you until your eventual arrival to the precipice. 

Lucifer before the fall. 

“I—” The word broke off in an airy gasp. Second attempt. “Sebastian, I’m—”

That too went interrupted, for it was then that your lover decided to circle your swollen clit with his calloused fingers. Dazed and nonverbal, you felt him wrap your hair around his fist and use it as leverage to assist in his corruption of you, tugging your head to his chest, baring your throat, arching your back. 

“I know, it’s alright,” he lovingly hushed your cries, lips nibbling on the rim of your ear. The wet roughness of his tongue licked away the tears that had begun to flow freely from your eyes, glossy and unfocused. “You can let go now. I’ll be here to catch you, yes? I’ll always catch you.” 

It shouldn’t have been a comforting sentiment. This was a man who killed people for being rude, who had seriously told you it’s only cannibalism if we’re equals. And yet, hearing that he would be there to envelop you in his arms if and when you plunged into the deep end was what at last sent you over the edge.  

Before him, no partner had successfully brought you to an orgasm. He loved to lull you into a state of la petite mort, compensating for his inability to actually kill you by inducing several little deaths whenever you laid together. But he had your brain short-circuiting as you came apart, your thighs trembling and jaw unhinged, your nails notched into the muscles that rippled across the expanse of his back, a bright light behind halfway-closed lids.

Thick fingers crawled across your left cheek to enter the black hole of your wet mouth, and you instinctively closed your lips around the intruding appendages. As you sucked and lathered them with spit, you pushed your ass further back into his pelvis, wordlessly encouraging him to use you to chase his own release. Several strokes later, his pace grew desperate, erratic, and he removed his fingers to cup your face, angled it just right, then bit down on the side of your neck, drawing blood. The brief flare of pain made your walls flutter and take his cock even deeper, your bodies reluctant to separate. 

Harvest me, and don’t waste a single drop. 

The moment of stillness that ensued when he at last emptied his seed in you was something holy, you decided. Ropes of cum seemingly endless, the pulsing of his member combined with his low groans brought you unparalleled bliss. While he descended from his lustful high, he lapped up the metallic trail along your throat, and the pressure of his tongue soothed the wound’s mild ache. Dr. Krueger, the man who had no qualms about eating within his species, was content to stop his consumption of you here, at a bite and a drop of ichor. 

Is my taste as divine as you imagined?

His hips continued to jerk and lurch in the aftershocks, and the noise of skin ricocheting off skin was more audible now that your senses were starting to return. Some might consider it to be an obscene sound, blatant and crude, but its obviousness appealed to you. Anyone who heard these echoes of anatomical convergence would have no misgivings regarding the recreational activities in which you and the doctor participated. 

I fear I would give you the most tender parts of myself, if only you were to ask. 

One hand caressed the top of your head, smoothing back your sweat-slickened hair. The other used his pristine white shirt to wipe the sweat from your brow, the gore from your body. Its fabric was rough against your overstimulated skin, but his movements were gentle. 

So please—

The doctor finished remedying the mess he had made of you and tossed the clothing aside, murmuring something about how he would have to explain to the lady at the dry cleaner’s that he’d spilled red wine again. Wrapping both arms around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to his chest, he then pressed a soft kiss to your nape. 

Your eyes fell shut. 

—do not ask. 

The manor was silent save for heavy breathing, yours and his. A sudden foul stench of rot and decay reminded you of the gruesome company on the kitchen island across the counter. You forced yourself to meet the vacant stare of the fish whose death had started this spontaneous coupling session, passion fueled by elevated adrenaline and a godlike rush of power.  

“I thought you didn’t get off to killing,” you murmured, energy half spent. 

An affirming hum vibrated through your bones, and you felt him rub his forehead against your back, up then down, nodding. “You thought correctly. I do not.”

A snort escaped from your throat since very recent evidence pointed to the contrary. Still inside you, his cock twitched at the sound. 

Perhaps he found the noise undignified and the response rude. The man had probably killed people for far pettier reasons; nonetheless, you continued to push the envelope because he continued to let you. 

This risky game would someday reach its limit. Someday, you might cross a non-negotiable line, and then you’d be dead before you knew what hit you.  

But today was not that day. 

“There is no sexual gratification in my hunts,” he further clarified. “Such perversion indicates one who is subjugated to the whims of his more primitive nature, one who is being controlled rather than doing the controlling. 

“Arousal at its most basic implies common ground. It drives us to seek a favorable mate with whom we can sire offspring to carry on our legacies. Should the hunter find this kind of pleasure in the hunted, it would mean a debasement of the self. Dethroned from the top of the food chain, he would forever live among his lessers. Since my prey are not and never will be my equal, killing is a strictly nonsensuous act.”

You are my equal, my mate, were the words you heard him omit. 

“But I keep discovering how much you defy my logic. I did not expect to be so. . . moved by that insatiable look in your eyes, by your presence in my kitchen, holding my knife.” The sigh he exhaled contained genuine frustration, not at you, but at himself. At his lack of self-control, at his underestimation of your ability to undo him. 

His right hand strayed from your midsection to ghost over the swell of your ass, vexation having seemingly passed. “And what a lovely painting you made of yourself. The only improvement is for you to coat your bodily canvas with my blood instead of that unworthy pig’s.”

Your brows furrowed at the thought of him gravely injured, stained red, and you grabbed his wrist, gave it what you hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sebastian.”

The rare occurrence of you using his first name outside of sex had him nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck and lightly nipping at the soft skin there. Although his teeth were eager to pierce flesh, his canines maintained a respectable distance. In the afterglow, he was always so, so careful not to cause undue damage. You were at your most vulnerable, and he was at his most untamed; a dangerous combination, like fire and gasoline.

Who was the struck match that would sacrifice wholeness to ignite the other, and who was the ignited that would disappear without a trace post-explosion?

Did it even matter?

“Very pretty lies, Liebling, though not quite as beautiful as you.” 

Despite his sardonic delivery, the fondness with which he uttered the term of endearment betrayed his affections. Complicated relationship with the Cut-throat Killer aside, none could deny that there was genuine love between the two of you. 

An unconventional, tempestuous love, true, but love nevertheless. It made the dichotomy between your loyalties all the more messy. 

Because yes, you appreciated his craftsmanship and were awed by the artistry behind his kills. Yes, you had moments ago indulged in your first hunt alongside him and had enjoyed it.  

Yes, you would probably do so again in the future.  

Yet somehow, the FBI profiler in you still felt obligated to confront the man, to put an end to his reign of terror. Why your lover would forever be visited by the need to eat and savor every inch of you, why you couldn’t ever entirely relax in the breadth of his embrace. . . it all tied back to this:

You couldn’t reconcile your ethical code with your want for him. The enormity of your desire approached suffocatingly-absurd levels, and the extent to which you ached for and craved this man was sickening.

No matter your personal feelings, the bitter reality of the situation remained unchanged. Before you could irreversibly walk the path of either love or duty, you needed to perceive your brain as something other than deformed, to conceive that the unnatural was a natural product of the universe in its own right. You needed to believe that the person who returned your stare in the mirror was not a disfigurement of humanity, nor a bastardization of goodness. 

But what constituted good, and what qualified as evil, anyway? Who had the right to decide which was which? Was it Agent Blaustein, who had pushed you to the point of breaking, who saw your mind only as a tool, caring not if he damaged you beyond repair in the field? 

Or was it Dr. Krueger, who had made you question your sanity, who wished for you to access and become indivisible from the rawest pieces of your marrow, even if it damned him in the process?

One thing was for certain: until you unabashedly accepted the darker elements of yourself—the same facets that he reflected back at you—this game of cat and mouse was cursed to resume and repeat, over and over. The roles seemed to reverse each time; you had first been the mouse to his cat, then you’d briefly turned the tables as the cat to his mouse. 

Recently, neither of you could puzzle out who was who. 

And the scariest part about all this was that you had never known yourself as well as you knew yourself when you were with him, a fucking serial killer. How frightening, that your ability to acknowledge and make sense of your own existence might hinge on whether or not he was in your life. 

Even a fool could see how you had changed under the gravity of his influence. In the beginning, you’d shunned the ugly bits, the chunks of you that proved too abhorrent to swallow. Now, you were learning how to indulge, how to see the beauty in the so-called horror. During the day, outsiders reminded you of your malignancies, of the shame that accompanied the sin of authenticity. However, at night, with him, you at last shed these social shackles and basked in fantasies of what could be, for the mere weight of his stare had the power to propel you toward self-actualization. 

Obviously, Dr. Krueger was well aware of this war between your moral duties and your innermost shadows. You expected as much, considering he had almost killed you for it. 

In your quest to unmask the Cut-throat Killer and confirm your suspicions, you’d nurtured a budding friendship with the doctor. You had wormed your way into his good graces by telling him exactly what he wanted to hear, nevermind that it had been you at your most honest. When the scheme eventually fell apart, murdering you had surprisingly not been his immediate reaction. Instead, he had offered you the chance to come clean so as to leave all the secrecy in the past and move forward anew. 

Together. 

It made perfect sense for Dr. Krueger to try holding onto his one true companion in life after getting a taste of reprieve from loneliness. Except, oblivious of your blown cover, you had doubled down, giving him no choice but to clutch you to his chest and carve his heartbreak into your gut. As you drifted toward Death’s door, as regret and fear willed him to frantically press onto your wound, the man had realized just how much you’d changed him, too.

Although you were indeed the harbinger of his ruination, he’d concluded that imprisonment paled in comparison to the grief of losing you. He loathed to imagine spending the rest of his days in a jail cell, but he could not commit to killing you, his greatest weakness and threat. You sought to cleanse this town of him, but you too could not pull the trigger on this evildoer. 

Two halves of a whole, locked in a stalemate. 

Can’t live with him, can’t live without him. A grotesque and ghastly piece of work, this man you called lover. And yet, you wouldn't dream of leaving his side. 

Because Sebastian Krueger was never going to get better without you. And you were never going to become better without him. 

“Apologies, but I insist we skip our entrée tonight.” 

That caught your attention—an absurd statement from someone who would probably make the time to properly dine even if the FBI was actively storming the gates of his manor. You twisted your spine to at last come face to face with him, and awaiting your curiosity was his hungry brown eyes, his dark blond hair freed from its gelled confines. 

“I know you worked hard to provide us this meal, and the meat will not go to waste,” the doctor assured, expression neutral, the perfect picture of calm if not for the way his fingers dug further into the meat of your hips. “The problem is me. I simply cannot curb my craving for dessert anymore.” 

You nearly scoffed. “Was this not dessert?” 

“No, mein Schatz,” he chuckled, as if you had just told a funny joke. The low timbre of his laugh caused a wave of desire to pool in between your legs, and you pressed your thighs together to trap the renewed heat.  

Ever intuitive, Dr. Krueger moved one arm away from your body to rest flat and steady on the countertop then dragged the other down to pinch your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. 

“That was only the appetizer.” 

fin.

[robin-the-enby]

Hiya! I would like to request Abe Sapien x my oc it would be the continuation of the first fic and it would include her going on her first mission and how the others react to Abe and my oc getting closer. Hope you have a good day/night ^^

Someone like me p.2

Pairing: Abe Sapien x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of killing and hypothetical bloodthirst :)

A/N: To all the lovely readers besides riya: I do not write for other people's OCs! This is an exception, since I've already written part one in the past :) With that out of the way, I am happy to come back to this, Abe was the first fictional character I ever published a fanfiction about (Confusing feelings on my masterlist, feel free to check it out ;D), so I have a special place in my heart for this man <3). Also, I would like to point out that you have no idea how much research went into this fanfic XD (but some things are completely made up, so don't come at me when some things can't be fact-checked).

Time passed...as it does. Life at the BPRD was nothing like your calm, quiet and mostly uneventful life in the outside world. The facility was buzzing with life most hours of the day, every day of the week. Luckilly, you weren't completely shut off from the world, like some of your more unfortunate colleagues. You could go outside, thanks to your human appearance. It did take some paperwork and time before your trip got approved, but it was certainly better than being stuck inside. You also had access to the internet and your old social circle, because, well, it would be very strange if you suddenly disappeared.

But you quit your old job and told everyone you're moving somewhere far away, which wasn't a complete lie...And now only few people kept in contact with you. And when they did, you either texted or called. But it was still nice.

And it's not like you minded much. You had a whole new set of friends and a world of possibilities open in front of you. Training with Liz and having some girl time every now and then, because both you and her really needed it from time to time, movie nights with Hellboy- or Red, usually everyone called him red, which Liz almost always joined, and sometimes Abe as well.

Speaking of Abe...

After the accidental confession in the BPRD's exercise pool, the two of you were like two peas in a pod. With your passion for learning about all the different creatures that secretely roam this Earth and your aquatic abilities, you were a perfect partner not only during research, but also on missions that required agents to go underwater. So it's no surprise that the two of you spent a lot of time together while working.

But you never had to worry about being sick of each other. Your personalities mended so beautifully together that you rarely needed to be apart. When you weren't working, you both usually did your own thing, just...together. Of course, you loved to talk and learn about one another, but it was nice to be able to just be...close to someone, with no words needed. Not to mention Abe was a very adaptable person, sometimes you worried he has people pleasing tendencies, but when you needed time alone, he always understood and never pushed past your boundaries. That being said, it's only natural for partner's to argue sometimes. And while that was true and there were instances where you disagreed on one thing or another, you both were smart enough to give each other some time to cool down, when things really escalated, and then talk it through. With Abe's telepathic abbilities, communicating feelings that were hard to put into words was also fairly easy.

Finally, you felt content with the way your life was going. And honestly? Everybody was on board. They were all supportive in their own special ways. Liz was glad that Abe found someone who understood him and wasn't put off by his appearance or his abbilities. Knowing him basically her whole life, it warmed her heart that Abe was happy. Red was proud of Abe. Seeing him always as the more introverted and nerdy friend, he thought Abe would be alone for a much longer time, if not forever. Not that he wouldn't wish a happy romance for the guy, hell, he sure knew about Abe's desire to love and be loved, but the in their line of work, meeting new people is hard and doesn't happen often, and meeting people who stay long enough for romance, or any deeper relationship to bloom is even harder. And he knew that. That was why Red was seriously proud of Abe for shooting his shot. Although when his blue friend revealed to him how exactly the confession went down, Red laughed so hard he couldn't quite catch his breath for a while.

The other agents and staff of the BPRD were happy as well. With the special agents happilly taken, the bureau was just a tad calmer. There was still drama, but nothing serious, like when Hellboy used to escape just to see Liz in the mental hospital, who didn't even want to talk to him at that time. Even Manning seemed calmer, to everyone's relief.

As much as you enjoyed your time at the BPRD, it wasn't always easy. You could still remember the first mission you went on. From your first day at the bureau, you worked hard on yourself to be a good agent. You wanted to go out there and face whatever the world had in store for you. And a few months of intense training and working mostly as a researcher, the day finally came.

Manning had called you, Abe, Liz and Hellboy into the library, for Abe's comfort. And because it was spaceous enough that it easily provided privacy. There, you could go over the details of the mission ahead of you, construct a plan and immediately grab some books to help you learn what you were dealing with at once.

So here you were, sitting around a larger table, listening to Manning tell you about a mysterious creature who, according to secret sources, are responsible for the unsolved disappearings and drownings of multiple people at Wilson lake, Kansas. Based on the evidence and statements from witnesses, every person disappeared at night while going swimming. First outside of swimming zones, but then also right from the designated swimming beaches. First, the victims would swim out into the deep water, where they couldn't feel or see under they're feet. Once they got comfortable, they got pulled under, not to be seen until the next morning. The time the victims spent in water was always different. For some it was ten minutes, for others thirty minutes and for a few even an hour or so.

From what Manning implied, there were some sort of agents scouting the area even before this mission has been ordered, since some of the sources saw a snake like creature, covered in scales, with the head of a cat, or somthng similar. It seems to be able to breathe underwater and above water, and it seems to not have any hind legs.

"First, we need to at least have an idea hat we're dealing with." said Manning with a huff and everyone present turned to look at you and Abe. You tried with all your might, but couldn't remember any creature that would meet the description in a closer way than vaguely. With a slight shake of your head you pushed away from the table and disappeared into the rows of bookshelves in search of amphibian cryptids, monsters, demons and the like. After a few moments, Abe joined you in your search, not knowing sure what it could be either. Luckilly, the two of you knew the library like the back of your hand, so it didn't take long before you came back with what you were searching for.

Each holding a few books, you gave everyone a book or two and you started flipping through them. It couldn't be merfolk, because only a few species live alone and not in groups...it could be a mutant, but most things can be mutants when you think about it...You wondered as you flipped through the pages, sometimes stopping to read the description, most times skipping entire chapters. This went on for roughly half an hour, before Liz suddenly spoke up "And what if it's a Tatzelwurm?"

You all looked towards your raven-haired friend. "The what now?" Red grumbled. "Tatzelwurm, a creature commonly found in Alpine lakes. It's venomous and agressive towards humans. How could it end up in Kansas?" Abe tilted his head to the side. "Look, I'm not saying I'm right, I was just trying to point out that it matches the description almost perfectly." Liz shrugged with a huff and you nodded along her words.

"Well, it seems to be the best we've got so far." Manning said, clasping his hands together. "Are there any weaknesses mentioned in that book? Or something we might use?" you asked. Liz picked up the book and flipped through a few pages, before quickly scanning over the text of one. After a moment, she sighed "No, not really. It just warns to be careful, because a single bite can kill an adult human and supposedly it's able to let out poisonous fumes and has acidic blood." "Well, that's helpful." Hellboy grumbles, not mad at Liz, more annoyed that this case was going to be a tough one.

"Abe, is there a possibility it could be something else?" Manning asked. The amphibian thought for a few seconds about the answer "Well, that depends...Are there any creatures with a similar way of living? Yes, many. Are there any that would match the description given to us that closely? No. Or at least, I can't think of any." he shrugged at last. Manning clapped his hands together and stood up "Alright. We'll assume it's a Tatzelwurm for now. I will have a plan created tonight. Pack your things. Tomorrow at seven o'clock sharp" he looked at Hellboy with that instruction "we'll meet here and you will be given the details of the mission. Then, you'll be leaving for Kansas." he turned on his heel and walked out of the library, dismissing you all in the process.

The next morning, you all met in the library exactly as Manning said. Even Red came on time, although you suspected Liz was to thank for that. Along with Manning came two other agents, the ones who made an elaborate plan for you through the night. It was actually pretty simple, you and Abe would search the water and after you manage to find the creature- there is no "if" as you were told by Manning, you will try to lure it out of the water, where Hellboy and Liz will be waiting to dispose of the creature properly. You and Abe will also be equipped with weapons meant for close combat, which you are strictly advised against, but for safety measures, you'll still have them.

After that, you loaded the super secret garbage truck look-alike and then it was a roughly seven hour journey, spent mostly in silence, as everyone prepared themselves for the mission. You pondered taking a nap, but even if you wanted to sleep, you couldn't. It would be a lie to say you weren't nervous. But you had trained for so long to get to this point. You had done so much in life just to be able to do this. You couldn't, and wouldn't, give up now. But the thought of facing a monster that could kill you with a single bite was terrifying, especially when not that long ago, you were a simple civilian.

As if he could sense your nervousness, Abe softly reached for your hand, encompassing it in his own. As soon as your hands made contact, you knew he could read you like an open book, so you just relaxed and let him feel what you were feeling, hear what you were thinking. In return, Abe reassured you that you had nothing to worry about, that he would do his best not only to accomplish the mission, but to protect you as well. His soothing energy calmed you down significantly and you actually managed to catch some shut eye for the rest of the journey.

After arriving to Wilson lake, you and the rest of the agents set up camp near the lake, away from prying eyes. Since the lake was enormous, and the Tatzelwurm could be literally anywhere, a few technicians came along with underwater drones, which would be placed into the water in several places at the lake, scouting for the creature. After that, you and your friends will be transported as quickly as possible to the place the creature was captured at, where the plan you already were familiar with would be set into motion.

And so you waited. And while waiting, you got you gear set up, Hellboy had his guns loaded and checked, Liz had her gun loaded and checked, as well as her knife and her fire proof jumpsuit. Abe was finally able to get rid of his breathing apparatus and you simply had to put on a tight swimming top, since your legs would turn into a fin.

Abe and you immediately got in the water to warm up for the chase. After such long time of training, you had a better grip on your transformation, so now you were able to get through it more quickly and with less discomfort. Of course, you made sure not to venture too deep into the water, in case the Tatzelwurm was nearby.

After several hours, when the sun was already setting, one of the cameras in a more rocky area of the lake captured something big. A big creature. The technician controlling the drone made sure not to disturb it, and it seemed to have worked, but sadly, the drone caught just a slight glimpse of it, so nobody could be sure if it was realy the creature, or perhaps just a big catfish. But the drones nearby were informed to be on high alert, while the rest were instructed to slowly move towards the one who captured it first. That way, it was nearly impossible to miss it.

While this was all happening, your friends got notified of this progress and you promptly loaded a jeep and were driven to the place where the Tatzelwurm was supposed to be right now. On the way there, your driver got confirmation that another drone got a clear visual of the creature and it's heading towards onbe of the beaches slowly. Putting their foot down on the gas, the driver quickly told you about everything and you and Abe mentally prepared yourself. You needed to be fast, because there were lives in immediate danger.

After finding a good clearing, both you and your blue partner wasted no time and jumped in the water, taking off in the direction you were instructed, while Hellboy and Liz were driven to the location you were supposed to lure the creature to. The bottom of the lake was half muddy, half rocky. It almost seemed like a ghost town, with no creature in immediate sight. They were all probably hidden, but that didn't help the already spooky feeling that was creepin into your heart while looking around for the Tatzelwurm.

You kept close to Abe as you made your way through the dark water. He kept updating you from time to time from where he could sense the creature and if you're getting close. So far, everything was going well. After you made it about a kilometer into the water, where it was more than 8 meters deep, you finally spotted a sillhouette moving almost hypnotically in the water. You both swam faster and each on different side, hoping to be able to get in front of the creature and redirect it away from the beach.

As you got closer, you could clearly see that Manning's informators were right, as well as Liz. It was a Tatzelwurm. It was around two meters long, its scales a rich black colour that reflected the sunrays in small shimmers. Its head was that of a feline, except it had no fur. Its eyes were wide, yellow and wild, hungry for flesh of anything that would cross its path. Its front legs were pretty short, compared to the rest of its body, but they were adorned with long, sharp claws. After a few minutes, you managed get ahead of the creature and you started closing in on it. When you were roughly at the edge of its visual range, you quickly crossed in front of it and darted behind immediately, trying to throw it off guard. At which you succeeded, because the Tatzelwurm stopped dead in its tracks and looked around confusedly, before turning around to finally see what dared cross it.

You simply floated there, not moving for a few seconds, before you flicked your tail swiftly, as if to beckon it, challenge it. The creature's pupils slanted, turning into small slits as it opened its maw, displaying rows of sharp teeth, ready to tear meat from bone. Abe swam slightly closer towards it, seemingly not afraid of the killer cryptid in front of him, although you doubt that if you could see into his thoughts right now, you would see a myriad of emotions going through that brilliant mind of his.

This seemed to rile up he creature even more as it hunched its back threateningly and swam closer to you. You darted a few meters in one direction away from it, but as it turned to look at you, Abe moved exactly in the opposite direction. This was the final straw. The creature, frustrated and angry, let out what would've been a roar on the surface, but here it was just a stream of bubbles coming out of its maw, although that did nothing to make it less imposing. You and Abe started swimming away in the direction where Liz and Red should already be by now, the Tatzelwurm following quickly behind you.

It was a if death itself was chasing after you, the sloshing of water completely ignored by you as the only thing that you could hear was your blood pumping through your ears. The amount of adrenaline coursing through you made your skin prickle and you had to concentrate on keeping the motions of your tail as quick, but also as smooth as possible. From time to time you managed to spare a glance at Abe, who seemed just slightly faster than you, and could afford to look out for you and behind you, to see if the creature was sill following you.

And quite surprisingly, it was. Instead of getting tired of not being able to catch you, your speed, that was putting you just slightly ahead of it, was frustrating it to no end. If you saw any signs of exhaustion or that the Tatzelwurm wasn't interested in chasing you anymore, you'd have to stop and tease it again. However, if you stopped now, it would be certain death.

Slowly, you were reaching the shore. It was just a few hundred meters ahead of you. You could feel the cold water rushing against your sking as you pushed forward, caressing you as if to encourage you to keep going. You could also feel the Tatzelwurm right behind you and you imagine that if there was a way for it to snarl at you, it would, its desire to dig its sharp teeth into your tail so strong you could almost feel it.

Suddenly, you are met with the edge of the lake, the water slightly more shallow. Abe shoots up from the water and before you can stop and ponder how you are going to get out yourself, his hand is reaching for yours. You grasp onto it as if it was the last thing to keep you alive, which in this scenario might as well be true.

Abe pulled you out of the water and away from the shore, behind Hellboy and Liz, who were now dealing with the Tatzelwurm, and continued, until you were safe behind the agents who served as backup for your two friends. You were slightly dazed from the quick change of environment and from the physical strain your body and mind just went through. But feeling Abe's hands on you brought you an unexplainable feeling of safety, though later you started o suspect that was just Abe trying to keep you calm. Nonetheless, under the wave of tranquility and love you were surrounded by thanks to your wonderful partner, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and rest.

You didn't come to until you were in the car again, Abe's arms secured tightly around you with you snuggling into his chest. You closed your eyes as soon as you opened them, relishing in the weight of Abe's head on top of yours, occassionally pressing soft kisses into your hair. Back at the BPRD you learned that the mission was a succsess, the Tatzelwurm having been killed by Red and Liz and even Manning told you that for a first mission, you did a great job.

[yearningaxe]

Meg Thomas Headcanons

She has BPD & autism (semi canon compliant as her lore mentions she has a hard time regulating her emotions; she also most likely has abandonment issues due to her father leaving her & her mother after she was born)

Lesbian (canon compliant - her mom specifically quotes Billie Jean King to motivate & cheer her up - BJK is a known out lesbian athlete)

Her scents go between citrus & vanilla, coconut, honeysuckle &/or blood orange

She has a morning skincare routine that's very quick, but invigorating to her. It's not extensive or fancy

She loves pizza, peanut butter and sweets

For smoothies, she loves anything made with strawberries

She has lots of freckles & moles (ie. Think Kennedy Walsh)

One of her hyperfixations is sharks & aquatic/ ocean life

She dated Claudette & Nea (at different times) before settling down with Anna

Anna understands & comforts her during her mood swings/when she's upset the best & that's part of why Meg loves her so much; with Anna, she isn't "too much," like she was with previous girlfriends

She barely drinks, she's 21+ but a single sip gets her flushed & giddy

She's a cat person (canon compliant)

Anna made her Miss Kitty mask to cheer Meg up after a spiral/episode & Meg loves when Anna wears it into ritual trials

She can't handle spicy food but will try

She snores (lightly) & drools in her sleep

Meg used to have nightmares/night terrors after being taken into the Fog & still does even after being with Anna. These are mostly from missing her mom & worrying about her

She's 500% a Paramore girly (she told me herself !! )

She's very much a tease

Meg does thoughtful things for those she cares about; she knows Anna loves shiny objects, so she wears lots of shiny accessories to make her happy

Some of the rings she wears are lil gifts from Anna !!

Meg has a very well hidden sensitive side

Meg prefers older women bc most older women in her life were very kind, loving & nurturing towards her (Claudette is +4 years older, Nea +2 years older; unsure of Anna's age, but she's def older). Most women her age made fun of her for "being different," which also is why she prefers older women

Meg has fun working out with Yui & David

Meg is an Aries woman (04/16) **I picked the 16th bc 6+1 is 7 & that's half of her lucky number (14)

Her "Big 4" placements are Aries Sun, Capricorn Rising, Cancer Moon & Scorpio Venus

Anna may be very territorial & protective of Meg, but Meg's territorialness & protectiveness towards Anna are even more.

Do NOT let her into a kitchen, this woman can barely make food without burning it 😭

Very competitive & stubborn

She can be very argumentative (which is why she & Nea didn't work out, they fought a LOT) literally "I can be yuor angle or yuor devil"

I'll add more to this later, but 🦊💞

[sarilolla]

Ooh! How about Clay being the third and last to arrive before Branch dies? And Viva reuniting with Poppy that way and her reaction to Branch's death and his brothers' grief considering she knows what it's like to essentially lose a sibling?

And JD arriving too late? How would he react upon realizing his controlling nature essentially sealed his baby brother's fate?

Ooof ouch, that hurts- Ofc I will write that >:)

Hanahaki Branch au (slight spoilers/alternative ending to not finished fic)

***

Life in Putt Putt Village was calm yet vigilant. Being co-leader meant Clay did many tasks around the golf course, and he for one excelled at the “boring” tasks. Life was calm, until it wasn’t.

The golf course was made by Bergens once upon a time, and there was always a possibility that one day they would show up. The Trolls in the village were quiet as a couple came through the doors, commenting on the eeriness of the place. Viva led the attack, tying them up, which seemed to surprise them, but they didn't directly fight back. The *Trolls* with them argued against their capture though.

After a few very tense moments, they got to talking. The group insisted they were friends with the Bergens, who were the young king and queen, and it was very hard to believe.

Two of the Trolls were speaking together, and Clay and Viva froze upon hearing two names.

"Told you we should have brought Poppy with us. She would know how to convince these Trolls about at least listening to us," the short yellow one said, and the glitter Troll shook his head.

"You know she wouldn't have left Branch behind in his condition."

"Fair enough."

"Wait, wait, wait, what?"

And the explanation came. Something about Poppy and Branch saving the world twice, but that Branch was sick, and had been for a long time. Clay wanted to scream when he heard which illness he had. Hanahaki. He had read a book about it when he was younger, a tragic love story, but to think his baby brother had it? That was worse than every sad book he had ever read combined and tripled. He had to go!

Reluctantly, they let the Bergens go, and tentatively, Viva and Bridget bonded over Poppy. Clay just wanted to get to Branch. People were out looking for the rest of his brothers, and even if he had been angry with them once, he would face them for Branch.

The trip from Putt Putt to Pop Village felt like it took years, even if it was only a few hours. Clay was too focused on where he was supposed to get to his baby brother, he barely noticed Viva reuniting with her dad. It was teary, and he was happy for her.

When he got to the bunker, a pink Troll with fuschia hair left, and she resembled Viva a lot. It had to be Poppy. Her eyes lit up stepping off the elevator, and from what Clay had learned, Branch had built the bunker himself. It was very impressive.

"Clay?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Poppy. Branch is on the lowest floor. Someone will point you the way to his door. Floyd and Bruce are there too."

He nodded, not questioning the name, and headed down as quickly as possible, not missing her little mantra of "There's still hope.".

A purple aquatic-looking Troll with pink hair was sitting down in what looked like a living room, comforted by a shorter Troll with wings and pink hair, who pointed him to a door. Walking up to it while wringing his hands, he took a deep breath before knocking, and a voice he could recognize anywhere told him to come in.

Three of his brothers were inside, and all looked happy to see him. His focus was however immediately on the one in the bed, who was blinking at him sleepily. Branch was an adult, but he looked so small like this. It didn't feel right. Branch was their bright, happy baby brother. Not... not this.

Closing the door, he rushed over to Branch's side as Floyd gave him the space to do so. Both middle and youngest brothers were looking at each other, and Clay wanted to squish that too-tired look out of his face.

"Hey, Bittie B."

Branch wrinkled his nose at that, and Spruce chuckled.

"He insists it's Branch now. Made the mistake myself."

"Oh."

"And, by the way, it's Bruce now. Changed my name a few years back."

"Very fancy, I like it."

It was so nice being back with his brothers. He had thought they were dead a long time, but no, here three of them were.

"Clay..."

Branch said, and Clay's attention snapped back to him. The way his voice was so small and fragile made his heart hurt.

"I'm here, B."

"Love you."

His breath caught in his throat, before he nodded, "I love you too."

With the confession, Branch's breathing cleared a bit, and the collective relief in the room was palpable. It still wasn't clear, it was still stuttering, and the realization that they needed John Dory to come soon hit hard.

"Tell me what you did outside the tree," Branch asked him, and he looked at the other two.

"He asked the same of us," Floyd shrugged, and Bruce nodded, "Tell us what you've been up to Clay."

"Well, first off, I'm now a licensed CPA, and..."

He talked about his travels, finding the Putt Putt Trolls, being co-leader, and everything else he could think about. None of his brothers seemed judgemental that he had stopped being "The Fun One", but more... proud of who he was now.

Poppy returned after a while, holding Viva's hand. Both looked both happy and sad, and Bruce gave up his spot on Branch's side for Poppy. The two youngest looked at each other, Poppy brushing his chin carefully just to check on him, earning a soft hum.

Viva stood slightly to the side, before Clay looked at her, offering a spot beside him. Floyd was once again holding Branch's hand, and Viva took Clay's as Branch's breathing became weird again. His eyes slipped shut, and Clay looked between Branch's face, and the hands that still held onto Floyd and Poppy.

They were getting slack, and his breath was getting unnoticeable except for the weak stuttering to it. Holding onto that slightly raspy sound as the only proper sign Branch was alive, wasn’t fun. This wasn’t something either Fun-Clay or Serious-Clay could handle, not really.

Viva’s paw slipped into his when the sound stopped. The entire room was silent.

Branch wasn’t alive anymore. He wasn’t with them anymore. He was gone. Viva held his hand, but also held onto Poppy as she started sobbing. Floyd moved around the bed to sit between his older brothers, leaning into Bruce’s side as Clay clutched his hand.

They hadn’t saved their baby brother.

—

Far enough away that it was a problem, an increasingly greying Troll sat behind the wheel of his most trustworthy companion.

“We’ll get there in time. We have to get there in time. I can’t…”

John’s voice broke off, his mutterings barely heard by the other two Trolls inside Rhonda. He never thought he would see those two leaders work together, but they had, to find him. So he could help save his baby brother.

His brothers were probably already there, and John Dory had to make it there in time. Tell his baby brother he loves him. Tell all his brothers he loved them. Apologize for being a massive jerk when they were younger. If he hadn’t, maybe they would have stuck together. Branch would know he was loved. He wouldn’t die.

Suddenly, a small *ping* made its way into his ears. Pulling out the small hug time bracelet, he looked at the now open flower.

It had belonged to Branch. He had fastened it himself around his tiny wrist on the youngest first birthday. John had found it when he visited the destroyed remains of their home.

The forget-me-not shone so innocently, and yet… John knew it hadn’t pinged him for hug time.

***

*bonks you* Did you guys know that if any of the brothers got Hanahaki for Branch, our beloved boy would be the Forget-me-not? Little baby boy who loves his brothers above all is the flower meaning “Don’t forget me”? Isn’t that just swell?

Also, headcanon that hug time bracelets are given on the first birthday by a family member. They're not actually made of the different flowers, but they're modeled after them. And as mentioned in the main fic, Branch lost his at one point before or during the escape.

So yeah, Bridget, Gristle and the Snack Pack finding Clay, Viva, and the Putt Putts, while not specified here, it's Delta and Barb who finds John. I mentioned in this ficlet that Country and Rock had interacted with the oldest brother, so they set off to find him. I don't know why I decided to add that Synth and Dante Crescendo sitting there keeping watch of Branch, I haven't watched much of Trollstopia at all, but it just felt right. (Also, Clay never interacted with other genres, and neither have any other Putt Putt, so he doesn't know they're Techno and Classical)

So, yeah, that was another dose of angst. Alternative endings counter: 7. Alternative endings were Branch dies: 6

[minecraftbookshelf]

so where did jimmy live while young i mean it sounds like the ocean empire but wouldn't it make more sense if he was raised in the codlands or the ocean empire was like a summer home because learning about a culture from afar is educational but if he was going to be their leader then perhaps it would be better if he was raised like one of them so that he is one of them and thinks of that place as his home and the ocean empire as a second home

Okay I’ve given up on computer access I’m going to try and answer this one on my phone so I apologize in advance if the thought process is even harder to follow than usual. (On the bright side, spellcheck!)

Jimmy grew up in both the Ocean Empire and the Swamp, with the important notation that the swamp was part of the empire for a good 150-175 years.

World history version: the Swamp was conquered and occupied by Land Dwellers for a few centuries, when Lizzie was first doing her “show of force” when she first became queen the first thing they did was liberate the swamp, which still had a primarily amphibious and aquatic population. The Cod Council was still there, though in secret and with fewer members than ideal.

The Cod Council resumed the majority of the governmental operations after liberation, while being under the protection of the Ocean Empire and, on the international stage, being represented by Lizzie, as the Ocean Queen.

Now Jimmy.

Jimmy who hatched from a damaged egg and has gills that don’t always work.

When he was still small he lived full time in the Ocean Empire, with Joel and Lizzie. It was very isolating for him at times, as he was limited in how much of society he could actually interact with, given that anytime he spent underwater was incredibly risky, especially as he got older and his gills got worse and worse. By the time he hit the equivalent of his pre-teens he couldn’t really breathe underwater unsupported at all.

Lizzie immediately commissioned the enchantment research to remedy that, but in the meantime, they needed somewhere that he could live safely, without being separated from everyone else (except Joel)

The Swamp offered to take him in.

So for quite awhile Jimmy was basically in a weird shared custody situation. He had a lot more freedom in the swamp, with its mixed land and water society, but he’d also been basically in Lizzie and Joel’s pockets at all times until now. This was also around the time when Joel returned to Mezalea to become king there so his family was very split up. They stayed in near constant contact of course, but it was still hard.

He was in the equivalent of his mid-late teens when the enchantments to help him breathe underwater were perfected and made reliable. And soon thereafter, the Cod Council summoned him and appointed him the Swamp representative internationally. having an official representative meant that the Swamp could officially separate from the Ocean Empire as a fully autonomous nation.