#magical creatures
There are many reasons why she is drawn to Rolf. The way he radiates peace, a still pool of calm in the middle of the wild storm the world makes as it goes by. The way he tilts his head just so and smiles, lopsided and with crows feet forming at the corners of his eyes. The way he simply smiles when she wears her homemade charms to ward off the nargles, does not sneer - does not even think to sneer. His pure, childlike naivete as he watches the world.
It is his love for the stories, however, which truly draw her to him. Stories the rest of the wizarding world harshly dismisses, shutting their ears and calling these storytellers animals, creatures, inhuman.
It is the stories no one else wants to tell, says her father as he bends over his printing presses, making sure the spells laying the typesets in place are working without any glitches, that we must tell.
And there are so many stories, she knows, that the wizarding world will never tell. Stories which she has spent her life listening to as she drifted through school, lonely and estranged from her fellow classmates. Stories a house elf named Dobby tells her. Stories a centaur named Firenze tells her - and later, other centaurs will learn to trust the fae-like young wand-waver who dares enter their forests, for she is unlike other wand-wavers for she listens.
There are stories that have nearly killed her - the time she nearly drowned, staying underwater without breathing charms, absorbed in the tales a friendly mermaid had to tell, for example, or the time Grawp (yes, she knew about him) nearly attacked her. Stories that she has reluctantly charmed out of recalcitrant tellers - goblins at Gringotts grumbling at this curious witch yet always eager for a chance to tell their story, fae-folk hidden away in their woods long relegated to the pages of myth and legend wondering if this dreamy young child is secretly one of their own.
These are stories they have longed to tell, longed to be heard. Stories of injustices and miseries. Stories of persecution and war and genocide. Stories which tell of the past, present and future in their own words.
She collects them all, precious gems, each with stories behind them. Stories upon stories upon stories. One day, when she and Rolf are ready, when the magical people behind these stories are ready, they will tell these stories to the wizarding world.
But it seems, Luna thinks, that the time for waiting is over; the time to tell these stories has come.
(Pics:1,2,3,4. For imgonnashoottothrill.)
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Pistachio!
This is Piflarf, he believes that he is as noble and graceful as the real dragon. Though he looks like a lemon cake
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The Heluo Zhi Yu or Heluo Yu live with in the rivers of China’s Tower River. These mythical beasts have one head with ten bodies or tails. They are commonly mistaken for squid or octopus. A prized catch, the Heluo Yu’s flesh can cure tumors and other bodily ailments. However it will not be easy, as these fish have the magical ability to gain flight and can transform into a bird.
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Do not fret little One… Madame Kiraz has the sweetest honey.
What’s this creature? A magical glob? you tell me
Reassigning Fantasy Accents:
Gnomes now sound like James Earl Jones.
Vampires now talk like Deep South, inbred from inbred and inbred again, get off my land, no fancy book learning, rednecks.
Fairies/Pixies are from the Canadian maritimes (similar to the Minnesota accent but a little more british/scottish)
Goblins are from Newfoundland.
Learning is a gift. Even when pain is your teacher.
— Maya Watson
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MerlinISMagic. Surely this makes him more than a little different?
I have this Headcannon that because of all his various powers, Merlin is physically quite different to what is usually expected in medical science and Gaius is completely fascinated by absolutely hates it.
I’m talking things like one day he comes stumbling into their chambers with an arrow clean through the left side of his chest, wheezing but somehow Not Dead.It’s because like his dragon kin, Merlin’s heart is on the right side of his body. Gaius swears off everything Merlin related there and then. (He lasts about 30 minutes).
Or how under the concealment charm tied to his neckerchief, Merlin’s eyes are naturaly a blazing gold all the time, fuelled by the magic in his veins. Surprisingly, they also allow him to see quite well in the dark. ‘Like a cat’ Gaius remarks when he finds out about it.
His teeth are a little too pointy? Or at least his canines are. It’s Merlin’s most obvious ‘Medical Mystery’ trait but fortunately nothing that can’t be explained away easily enough. It does however add another point to the creature side of ‘Human vs Magical Being’ tally Gaius has been keeping in his head. For scientific purposes. Of course.
Merlin’s speed and agility are much greater than it has any right to be, even if you take into account the amount of physical labour he does for Arthur; The boy practically flys over the ground. Unfortunately the knights don’t realise this until they bet all their money he couldn’t beat Gwaine in a race.
He can talk to animals too! Mind-speak is easiest but his other method has Gaius tearing out the little hair he has left because his ward Should Not Be Able To Do That. To talk to animals, Merlin simply replicates THEIR language: be that neighing, breying or barking. Laws of Vocal Chords be damned, Merlin can do it.
To top it all off, the Knights aren’t wrong when they banter with Merlin about how little he weighs. Gaius is just glad it shields the boy from anyone thinking too hard about the definitely unnatural fact HE could even lift Merlin with one hand if he so pleased. They’re not sure if it’s an Emrys thing, a hollow-boned dragon thing or if there’s some pixie blood mixed in there but Merlin is secretly quite pleased when his creeping footsteps make much less sound than anyone else’s.
Gaius dreads the day he has to treat Merlin for an illness which isn’t immediately obvious because Dear Albion it could be ANYTHING.
BONUS: for anyone with magic, Merlin can be spotted from a mile away because he literally LEAKS it. Again, Gaius says this is Not Normal and no magic should be coming out of him if he’s not actively wanting it too but the druids spot his unique trait a mile away and it puts other magic users at ease when they’re around him. It’s like a giant warm blanket.
“Jackalope Rising”
I finished and painted the Drawtober prompt for “Folklore” from last year
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