#spike’s a stone dragon that hatched from a stone egg. he is not meant to exist. he’s an elderitch horror and a baby boy and we love

[oneiromanciy]

THE CHAMPION TEAM

aka here is the post about his main team that he would’ve used if satoshi had pushed him to using all six pokemon . 

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐈 — the pitch black pokemon, tobias’ patron. moreso, darkrai is the patron legendary of sanivar harmonia, whose soul reincarnated into tobias gaudí. darkrai’s league moveset is ice beam, dark void, dream eater, and dark pulse, although as a god, he knows anything that he could learn. darkrai met tobias when he was a child ( about 8 ) in the gardens of alamos, the deity hid in tobias’ shadow, following him home. darkrai later revealed to tobias that he was meant to be a companion at the least, and he offered his power to aid in controlling a devastating ability tobias learned that he possessed. darkrai has learned to adore tobias as his own person and not simply as the soul of sanivar. the two are very hard to separate. — modest, highly curious. 

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐒 — the eon pokemon, tobias earned his trust after an incredibly impressive battle with wallace. latios’ league moveset is luster purge, giga impact, light screen, and dragon claw. latios is also a god and knows any move that he could learn. notably, tobias easily gets seasick, but latios has come up with a way to fix that, allowing his friend to ride on his back to fly long distances, latios is faster than a jet, but tobias has to hold on tight. — timid, likes to run.  

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐈 — the volcano pokemon. tobias’ second legendary pokemon that he actually ever encountered in his life. as tobias chose to begin his journey in johto rather than kanto ( or sinnoh, which his parents would’ve vastly preferred ), he was prone to exploring on his own and had a fateful encounter with entei when he decided to explore the brass tower. he gained entei’s trust over time, returning to the brass tower every week with snacks for the mysterious pokemon he’d seen. entei’s league moveset is sacred flare, flare blitz, stone edge, and iron head. entei is a god and knows all moves that he could know — adamant, proud of his power. 

𝐅𝐋𝐘𝐆𝐎𝐍 — the mystic pokemon. tobias caught her as a trapinch during his travels in hoenn. she’s playful and stays positive about most situations. flygon’s league moveset is earthquake, outrage, u - turn, and dragon claw. flygon also knows earth power, dragon tail, dragon rush, fly, and sand tomb. — jolly, impetuous and silly. 

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 — the aura pokemon. actually, this pokemon was his father’s. since his parents couldn’t convince him to stay in sinnoh for his journey, christopher gave his young son lucario, rather, a riolou pup at the time, who had hatched from an egg about six months prior to tobias’ announcement that he wanted to go on a journey. he is a fantastic companion. lucario’s league moveset is close combat, flash canon, bullet punch, and extreme speed. lucario also knows aura sphere, metal claw, brick break, swords dance, and focus blast  — naive, alert to sounds.

𝐒𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 — the armor bird pokemon. she met tobias not too long after he’d caught trapinch. she gave him a bit of trouble at first, she likes to assert her dominance in a team build that doesn’t involve entei. she sometimes pushes lucario around, but not in a malicious way. skarmory’s league moveset is taunt, spikes, brave bird, and counter. skarmory also knows fly, steel wing, sky drop, and air cutter. — bold, capable of taking hits. 

#˗ˏˋ hc #i reformatted all of this simply because my old formatitng sucked ass so lmao

[crazed-rambling]

After The Tower

You are unnamed and yet still unproven when you awaken among the bloodbath of your own corpse. You look more breakable from here, like this, as though made of brittle sparrow bones and spider silk. But you are not. You can see bone and flesh clearly. It is a long time before you awaken again.

 You are a princess. You are kind and graceful and beautiful because a princess must be all these things. One day you shall be a queen and you shall be humble and modest and wise because that is what a queen should be. But you are a princess right now so you are none of those.

You are silent though, because your governess said it was a virtue. You also lack something to say - it’s the first time you have seen a prince. At least you think he should be the prince; he is rescuing you but the lines on his face make him look more like your father than you. This might be how it was meant to be, princes become kings after all. You are confused all the same.

It wasn’t that you weren’t expecting this, it was common sense. A prince rescues a princess, they fall in love, they get married, they are happy. Mother had told you not to worry, that last day you saw her, in the carriage, gripped your hands too tight in her own and told you were a princess so a prince would save you, like she had been saved. That hadn’t made sense at the time, your mother was a queen not a princess, why would she need to be saved? You were young then and a bit stupid because your uncle said it was cute for a little girl, but you riddled it out in the end. You think you might be a bit less stupid now, you are a woman grown after all. Bled your first blood here, then one every after, here among your stories and your needlework and your dragons. But somehow blood is redder as you are lifted from your fallen dragons.

You are Antoinette when you wake again, is what they tell you. Sleep soon finds you.

 You are unsure how to go about falling in love, maybe you have already done it, you are married after all. You’ve done it, you will be happy now, mother said so. It feels deceptively easy, a few words, a kiss and you are a wife. Everyone around you seems to be doing the work for this marriage; servants laden with plate after plate of food, musicians playing songs you do not know over the sound of toasts to the couple, to the kingdom, wine spilling over onto silk sleeves and tablecloths that you imagine must have been weaved from gold.

The prince, your husband, has not had a chance to speak to you, there always seems to be someone for him to talk to. He does not introduce you. These men already know you; they call you ‘the bride’. It isn’t your name. You smile anyway because you’re happy now. The pins in your hair are pulling too tight.

  You are loved they tell you when you awaken this time, aching in places you’d never thought to burn before. A wife, a princess. You suppose those things mean you’re loved. There is a musky smell in the air, it tastes heavy on your tongue. You cannot help the way your upper lip curls in some imitation of disgust, humans are just always so damp. It is the softest mattress you have ever known yet still too hard against all your aches. Worse; you are not alone. Another clammy body lies sprawled beside your own.

 You sit up, ignoring the spike of pain between your legs to examine it. And stop. Because you know this one. He lives among your siblings screams, flames and the burning cold left behind sword slashes. Your murderer sleeps defenceless as though you are not a predator. But you are not. Your teeth are blunt now. You do not want to be here.

 You have a daughter now, a child all your own, and she is so small in your arms. You love her more fiercely than you ever though yourself capable of. Each time you hold her you feel as though the world has been made anew in your arms. If this is how your mother felt for you, how did she ever let go of your hand that day in the carriage? The thought of your sweet daughter leaving your sight is a knife, you think abandoning her in that tower would kill you.

She has taught you what love is, true love. Your mother was wrong. It was not love you felt on your wedding day and it has not been love since, you think the only thing you could love your husband for is giving you Therese. You do not understand how he cannot feel the way you about her, it is as though when you were given this all-consuming feeling you took all the love allotted to her parents. Your husband wants another child – a boy, an heir this time. You still ache from the birth. He visits your bed still.

Sometimes you long for the days in the tower, dull as it may have been. You imagine yourself there again, Therese in your arms because you do not think you could bear to put her down even in your mind, you are there once more. Making a home for yourself among stone walls; you’d place the crib in the alcove you used to read in, far enough away from the window that she wouldn’t catch a chill, tell her the stories sing her the songs that built you all those years ago. And you are always safe. Dragons are as dangerous as people say, you heard many knights try and fail to save you before, but you were never once in danger. Your dragon was as close to a companion as you had all those years, you may never have spoken but you understood one thing all the same. She would never have hurt you. She would yell and her gold eyes were cold but she’d bring you meat from her hunt, let you touch her smoothest scales near her neck, allow you let you feel her children move inside their eggs. They were so fragile and warm under your palm in that moment. That is the moment you prefer to remember of them, your first memory of them, your last is coated in blood.

Sometimes when your husband is angry you look down at your child, think about those baby dragons and wonder if this child is worthy of the mercy he never showed them.

 You are a wife, a mother the next time you are awake, with a stinging in your cheeks and aches beneath your sleeves. You are still loved apparently; you think that love must be a painful thing. You look down at a babe that looks nothing like you and wonder if this girlchild is as breakable as you were. You wonder if the next time you awaken it will be to this child’s corpse instead of your own. You fear sleeping that time.

 It is stressful waking up in the palace, you are never quite on your own anymore and you never quite know who you will wake up to. You have learnt to feign sleep, in the seconds after you wake, to listen unnoticed. It makes all the difference on bad days; to know the part your husband needs you to play. His moods change like the winds and like that tower you left so long ago you must simply weather through them. It is a relief to wake to the chatter of maids, the footsteps of guards, in those moments you allow yourself to feel safe. Just for those moments, you know they do not care for you - only for the son your husband will get from you, but in those short moments you dream.

Still, you are used to waking up not knowing who is there. You are not used to waking up not knowing where you are. You do not even remember falling asleep, you would not have fallen asleep. Your husband was angry, it is not safe to sleep. But you are here in your room, your bed, the setting sun bathing the room in an amber glow. It had been morning and you were afraid. Afraid the door might open once more and it would all begin again, afraid that you could do nothing about. It was not morning anymore and you are lost to how you got here. And that somehow frightens you more than anything behind that door ever could.

But your beautiful, perfect daughter is soft and safe and sleeping in your arms, your body curled around her as though you might protect her from all the world. Maybe it was you, in that time you can’t recall, this person who slept peacefully when you were shaking with fear. You too would protect your daughter from anything.

 The child is a fleshy thing, the next time you awaken, soft and weak and fussy in your arms. You must hold it certain ways or it will fall apart under its own weight, and you do have to hold it because it can’t seem to do anything on its own. Humans confuse you still. You had hatched with a hunger and the teeth to sate it; this child offers gummy smiles.

So, you take it to see things, things you had seen from the tower walls, things you never had a chance to see. It is far more fragile than you and you did not even last a year, you may as well make what time this child has worth it. But princesses it seems are not allowed to see much. It is not a tower, not like you’d known, it sprawled across the land soaking up the sun but its walls work the same. Despite this you hold this daughter of the body which is not your own and show it the world, limited though it may be.  And each time you awaken you find yourself understanding just a little more; how it smiles for the colourful blooms and things that shine, but wails when you hold a mint leaf to its nose – you do that less often now.

 You are a queen now but you are not wise, not like a queen should be. Maybe if you were things would not be like this, maybe you’d be good enough and things wouldn’t hurt. But you are not. You are never enough to soothe your husband’s rages. The child in you – his maybe son – does not make him softer, only more careful. You favour long sleeves.

The maids whisper stories, stories about you, from the times you cannot remember. They tell you of a woman who looks at your daughter with confusion and pity in her eyes but holds clumsily close all the same. Apparently, you take Therese for walks, stroll from one end of the garden to the other, skirt the walls of the palace as though there will never be enough room to run. They whisper of a woman with your face who speaks to your daughter as though she is a tiny adult. You wonder if you are losing your mind; you’ve lost so much already. It feels as though you are never alone here anymore, that someone is always there, watching you, now it feels as though you cannot be alone even in your own mind.

Worse is that some days you are so tired that you welcome it, that sleep. Those days you submerge yourself in the feeling of nothingness, to let something else live for a day. You are filled with guilt when you wake; you abandoned your daughter, your life. It just reminds you how weak you are, that you would rather sleep than live. It’s just that your Therese is safe and laughing, toddling along after you wherever you go. You always wake to a happy, content daughter and bandaged bruises. You wonder if it would be ok to leave your children to them. You wonder if it is time for you to rest.

 You are awake as often as you are asleep now. You have seen that girlchild find its feet. Watched her unsteady steps find confidence. Listened as she learnt to call for a mother who is not there because you are. Part of you aches at that. It makes you feel hollow. You have felt the sting of a blade before but this, this lingers far longer.

You are not used to feeling, not like this. Fear, hunger, rage they came easy, but this, this feeling has swept you up into its clutches. Raises you high with the laughter of the girlchild you watch grow, leaves you falling as you remember what it means to watch her. This body made a home for you in her, found a place for that child dying long before its time, let you live if only for moments at a time. And with every breath you take you steal one more from her.

 There is no happiness in you, what you have you have given your daughter, you accepted it. This was the life that you have been given. Cowered and cried, curled into yourself, drawn his attention away from her. Let yourself fade day by day so that she might grow more vibrant than you were ever allowed. You have carved away at pieces of that girl in the tower to make yourself palatable, to fit the space they gave you. You accepted it. For her.

But this – this will not stand.

Your precocious, vibrant daughter who just wanted to see her father, is sobbing in your arms. Violets blooming on her cheek to match those that grow on your arms.

You would have his heart for this; carve it from his chest like some deranged thing. You might be. You’ve been breaking for five long years of marriage, only this time your sharp edges face outward. The fear is gone though, or is just quietened, lost in the tides of rage that sweep through each and every corner of your mind.

You do not fear breaking anymore, the monster you married will have to shatter you entirely to lay a hand on your daughter again. This time you let yourself scream and rage, he comes home expecting a subservient shell of a wife and finds your claws at his face and poison on your tongue. But you are not a creature of fangs and claws and even if you were this man has killed dragons – your dragons. You fight. You do not win. You fight anyway. Kicking, biting, scratching at the weight on top of you. Letting your nails draw blood from the hands around your neck.

 Dying is unforgettable, well maybe not dying but the moments before are. The pain, the world growing cold, unable to move and forced to listen to the dying screams of your siblings. You are dying again. Your murderer has his hands around your throat, you can’t breathe, cannot breathe, cannot breathe. The world is cold again and he has come back for you like a nightmare brought to life. You can’t breathe as your hands scramble for purchase, clawing at his face, his eyes. You have changed bodies but the cold rage in his eyes is the same. You cannot breathe. You are dying again. You want to run.

And isn’t that worse. That princess with soft hands and a soft heart is dying with you. Yet you do nothing but sit inside a body that is not your own and think of how to desert her. She opened up a part of herself, took you in and all you can think of is finding another place to run, to hide. Wanting to leave the only person to show you mercy and that smiling child to the hands of this monster. As though you are nothing more than some human.

It is time you remember what you are.

You are not a queen, not a princess, not a wife, not a mother. You are a dragon, unnamed and unproven. This body has protected you for many years and as it has protected you. You shall protect it. You are a dragon and dragons do not fear kings.

 You open your eyes to the weight of your husband still on top. For a moment you are afraid. You think it is well past the time for fear. Because it is not your husband anymore you suppose, though it may be wearing his face. It is difficult to care. That girl who saw the good in everyone died by his hands, drowned in the blood of her dragons. Yet as this creature that is not your husband, is not you, falls over itself like a new born fawn to get off you, and your body is your own for the first time in years, you start to think you may still have a protector remaining.

#fairy tale #dark fairytale #fantasy #dragons #fairy tale retelling #short story #creative writing #story rec #original fiction #Fantasy Story #fantasy short story #princesses #royalty #happily ever after #My writing #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #lgbt writers #cw: abuse #cw: death

[amorosoebony]

Part one The Hatching

When a life is born, another must die. For a soul must be given, to have will.

The dragons were easily the size of a village on their own. Cyrus had been watching this couple for a while seeing them fly over his home and out into the desert. He had noticed that the behavior of the dragons had changed drastically the past few days. They were agitated, guarded even.

He made his way up a nearby plateau trying to climb the side. He misstepped, the rocks he was standing on broke free from the side and dumped him into a narrow crevice right next to the nest (not where he wanted to be). The male dragon gave the rockface a once over deciding that it was just some loose rubble. Cyrus’ heart hammered on his ribs. The first of the two was a bulky dragon covered in hard stone patches some of which had pale moss growing from them. He wasn't as large as the other but his muscle made up for it in spades. He had a stubby neck with a large square head, and his primary horns took up most of his skull and stuck forward towards his nose. The other dragon was larger and had beautiful red scales that covered her backside and wings, and her belly was a washed-out yellow. She was almost snake-like and had spikes that followed her jawline and spine giving her a jagged look.

“It will be soon, dear.”

“Soon is not soon enough we must move the nest before the humans get bold!”

“Hush my dear, you'll scare the hatchling before they even enter the world.”

he grumbled and wrapped his tail around hers nuzzling her jaw as best he could. “Of course, love.”

“Look!” their eyes focused on the tiny eggs as a fracture started to form on one of them. Carefully huddled in between the rocks, Cyrus could see three eggs. He had to take a second look and blink hard. The eggs were so tiny compared to their parents; and they were hatching! Small mews and chirps cried to the dragon parents as the first broke free of its confinements. Its body was covered in a film of goo, that it was quick to lick off of itself. Similar sounds could be heard from another of the eggs. Pushing its head as hard as it could through the tough shell until it, too, broke free and joined its sibling (Both of the hatchlings were a dirty brown color). As for the last egg, there was no movement, no sound, nothing.

The mother cooed to her new hatchlings, drawing them closer. The male dragon turned his attention to the last egg, sniffed it, and pushed it with his nose, rolling it.

“A dud.” He pulled his mighty head back as if appalled by the small egg, shaking his head. She too nudged the egg and got the same response, nothing.

“Perhaps they just need time, dear.” He huffed, releasing a puff of dust.

They waited for what must have been hours. Cyrus stayed in the crevice, jagged rock rubbing against his hide. He watched and waited as the sun rose in the sky.

  “Come, love. No more time to see it rot.” he gently nuzzled the hatchlings until they climbed onto his nose. She whined, heartbroken at the loss of the hatchling, and nudged it one last time. Spreading their wings, they thrust themselves into the air with their hatchlings on his head. They soared into the distance, flying slow and with the mother behind him.

Once they were far enough away Cyrus pulled himself out of his hiding spot. The sharp rocks had done a number on him. He was plenty sore from holding himself out of view, not daring to draw their attention. He slid down into the nest.

“Well now why did they leave you?” he asked himself. He nudged the egg with his foot and crouched down next to it. Spinning it, he examined the abandoned egg. It was about the size of the clay jugs in his village. There was no damage that he could see. In fact, there wasn't even a crack or scuff. If it was a dead egg it would make a good few meals. Agreeing with himself he put his ear next to the shell and listened. Tapping on the side of the egg, he got a response!

Buh - Bump - Bump

He jerked his head away, putting the egg down quickly. It wasn't dead, maybe just stuck! He grabbed his mattock and started hitting the blunt on the side of the egg until it cracked ‘Damn, that’s a tough egg!’ He made a small hole and decided to use his hands to pull the egg apart at the seams. Inside, was a fully formed hatchling covered in goo and struggling to breathe. It sputtered, gasping, as air hit its lungs for the first time. Cyrus pulled it into his lap, wiping it off with his shall. He lightly patted its sides, much like burping a human baby. It was small and cubby, about the length of his elbow to palm. It had a yellow belly and a dirt red backside.

He took a moment to examine the shells, the first two who had hatched, had normal shells, ones that got thinner the closer to hatching they got, as all the nutrients were put into the developing young. Although the one that he had ‘rescued’ had a thick shell.

“The odds were against you from the start huh, little one?” he sighed and lightly stroked his knuckles over its small head. After a few moments it began to whine and chirp, trying to nuzzle his palm back, he chuckled and smiled at it.

“Alright, then what should I call you, little one?”

-

The walk back was a long one. By the time he had left the dragons nest, it was midday, which was a horrible time to be traveling. He had draped his shall over the baby dragon to keep the heat off it. After an hour or so the sun was truly at its peak and Cyrus could just about feel his skin peeling off his shoulders in the heat. His feet started to drag on the cracked ground and Cyrus was sure he was lost until the first of the spires came into view. It was made of jagged stone that loomed out of the clay desert with a spiral that followed the wind. Rushing to it, he discovered a leftover puddle from the wet season. A few more days like this and it would be gone, but for now... He just about hurled himself to the muddy water, setting the hatchling down in a shallow patch. It squealed and wiggled, flailing its limbs, happily splashing in the clay and mud. It was quite the sight. He gently covered himself, and the baby in mud. The result was immediate relief.

“AHHHH. There we go, this will keep us cool till we get home.” he stated. Wait, why am I talking to a dragon? it can’t understand me.

He pushed his shall into the watery muck and thoroughly soaked it. Tossing the shall over his shoulders he looked down at the little one. They should wait until the sun isn't so intense, but that could take hours. He yawned, having spent the majority of the previous night walking to the dragon nest, he really needed rest. The hatchling gurgled making the mud splash. The fun had worn off and it made an angry click and kicked its back leg. 

Not even an hour later the baby was truly done with waiting. It screeched and kicked its back leg thumping the ground.

“Alright. Alright, we're going.” Picking up the baby and hugging it close it quieted down. It nudged his fingers and latched on and nibbled. 

“Sorry little one, I do not have any food.” he chuckled heading back into the desert. Wait what does a baby dragon eat anyway? milk? No, meat dragons were meat eaters, but wee baby dragons, maybe?

-

The spires were on all sides now. Jutting out of the clay as if the gods had just thrown them at random, like playing a game of stickup. Sharp rocks shaped by time wind and water pointed inward toward the center of the clay.

Not but a mile ahead was a wall made of stacked stones some of the stones had warnings or symbols of protection carved into them. All this to keep out the creatures of the desert. The wall surrounded the center of the red clay desert and the last truly safe home of the Reddrum, The Reddrum didn’t guard their walls trusting or rather knowing that no other would be fool enough to come so near them. The only true threat in the desert would be itself. 

 With the little dragon fast asleep in his arms he walked alongside the wall, searching the surrounding area for his totem that pointed to his home. Leaving the wall he spotted it; it was a tall painted wooden likeness of a snake, ram and,Coyote, there were plenty of totems around the area if you looked hard enough but the animals always differed between them, this one was Cyrus’ the snake on top pointing home with its head. Up and to the south.

His home was carved into a spire. Staircases filled in the gaps in the spirals leading up, it went around till a cave-like opening led into the spire and out the other side continuing up again. On the top was a grass field surrounding a water well pavilion and a goat house.

“BAHKK.”

From around the corner came Khai-ba, she happily pranced over to him letting out happy bleats and 'bahks'. “Hey, girly I missed you too.” He scratched her neck and patted her back. She stood the same height as him, her ram horns curling around the back of her head in a wide swoop giving her the extra height she needed to look taller. “You wait here Khai-ba, I’ll be back in a second.” He walked to the other end of the plateau and down another staircase. 

He pushed open the door to his house or rather his cave, the front room was where he kept tools potting soil and, odds and ends he just didn’t have space for elsewhere. The next room was much cooler and was the main room; it had one pillar in the center; kitchen on one side lounging furniture on the other. He set the little hatchling on the dining table and began to pull apart his kitchen searching in the back of every cupboard. 

“Where is it.” 

A cast-iron kettle fell from place, knocking more pans out of the way, CLANG! “AHHEEKKK!” The baby screeched waking angrily from its nap. 

“Ya, YA OK I Hear you.” Finally, he pulled out a bottle, it was meant for a human-like child but it would have to do. Bolting over to the cold cellar he ripped open the floor hatch grabbing a clay vase of goat milk and filled the baby bottle. Hopeing it would do the trick, he rushing back to the hatchling it cried and clicked; Cyrus scooped it up and cradled it pushing the bottle to its mouth. Silence. 

“There you go, little one.” Cyrus watched the hatchling suckle, he could tell that it didn’t like goat milk but it was far too hungry to argue. Thinking back he remembered that he still had not named it yet. How could he, when the traditional names certainly would not fit it? Plus Cyrus was the worst at naming things he just didn't have the imagination for it. He searched the room with his eyes looking for inspiration when his gaze settled on an open doorway, the cloth door was pulled back just enough to see inside to a crib filled with dust and the name Cyrus had carved into it all those years ago. 

He sighed heavily rubbing his thumb on the side of the hatchling's neck. It finished the bottle happily gurgling it rolled and curled on itself, fast asleep. Glancing back to the room once more it was decided.

“I’ll call you Zepher, ya that fits you just fine.”

*****************************************************

Thanks for reading. I really hope people enjoy it. I'm not sure when part two will be coming out but stay tuned, and if there are any suggestions please let me know. I’ve been going back and forth for a few hours, my anxiety is really kicking my but. But I posted it, its done no going back!

#zelgen #zepher #zelda fandom #zelda fanfiction

[aion-rsa]

15 Best Castlevania Monsters and Bosses Ranked

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Few series have been more resilient than Castlevania. The first few games in the franchise were fairly standard 8-bit platformers (albeit with a unique horror vibe), but over time, entries in this series became less linear and more about exploration, eventually helping to inspire a whole new subgenre: “Metroidvania.” While the 3D Castlevania games never quite reached the same heights as those earlier titles, they’re still excellent (maybe even underrated) experiences in their own right.

Regardless of your favorite Castlevania, I think we can all agree that the series has given us some of the coolest enemies around. From new takes on horror icons like Dracula and Frankenstein’s monster, to more original creations like skull towers and flea men, the Castlevania series is filled with monsters and bosses that brilliantly pay homage to this series’ genre roots while establishing a legacy of their own even if they already enjoy one elsewhere.

In honor of the 35th anniversary of the first Castlevania game, here is our look are the absolute best monsters and bosses to come out of this classic series.

15. Zombies – Castlevania

Essentially Castlevania’s equivalent of Super Mario’s goombas, zombies are the very first enemy you meet in the original game. While they don’t pose much threat on their own, but can get incredibly annoying if they manage to gang up on you from all sides.

Zombies have become a series mainstay (they appearing in some form in almost every Castlevania), but their first appearance is arguably still the best. These zombies are just rotting corpses in tattered cloaks with the singular purpose of doing as much damage as possible, and it’s easy to love them for their memorable simplicity.

14. Giant Ape Skeleton- Castlevania 64/Legacy of Darkness

The N64 version of Castlevania remains divisive due to a questionable camera and controls, but there’s no denying that the opening moments are among the most memorable in the series. As either Carrie or Reinhardt approach Dracula’s castle, they approach a large gate and are immediately confronted by a towering skeleton wielding a bone as a club.

Taking place just a few minutes into the game, this is ultimately an easy boss fight that sets the tone for a much more cinematic Castlevania experience than the 2D games that came before. Though giant skeletons have popped up in other Castlevania games, none of those encounters have been nearly as memorable. 

13. Medusa- Castlevania: Lament of Innocence 

Medusa heads have been a constant annoyance for the Belmonts since the very first Castlevania game, but the series’ spin on the mythical monster doesn’t really take center stage until she appears as a full-on boss in the criminally underrated Lament of Innocence.

Admittedly, this Medusa doesn’t put up much of a fight, but the giant, floating head makes for an especially cool looking battle, especially once the snakes on her head continually lash out and she starts flinging stones at Leon.

12. Bone Pillars- Castlevania (Various)

Bone pillars are another example of how Castlevania games can make simple ideas really cool. Basically just two dinosaur skulls on top of each other that shoot fireballs in opposite directions, bone pillars have evolved with the series over the years, expanding their repertoire of attacks to include giant spike balls and even laser beams.

The pillars rarely prove to be much of a challenge for any Castlevania protagonist, but they’ve become so iconic that it’s hard to imagine a game without them. 

11. Cockatrice- Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow

The first few Castlevania games were heavily inspired by classic horror movies, but as the series evolved, Konami dived deeper into folklore from all over the world to find some obscure, yet awesome, legendary creatures. The legend of the cockatrice (a chicken egg hatched by a toad) sounds ridiculous at first, but a couple of encounters make it clear that this giant chicken creature is no joke. The cockatrice’s ability to turn Soma Cruz into a stone statue gets annoying fast.

While the cockatrice makes for a fearsome enemy in Aria of Sorrow, it’s an even better ally in Circle of the Moon where you can summon the beast to pummel enemies with boulders.

10. Julius Belmont- Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow 

Aria of Sorrow took a lot of risks with the Castlevania formula by moving the setting to the future (which also meant incorporating modern weapons like handguns) and forgoing the traditional Belmont protagonist for a leading man who may turn out to be the new incarnation of Dracula. It all results in one of the best and most innovative games in the series. 

Among one of Aria of Sorrow’s cooler surprises is a boss fight with 21st-century vampire hunter Julius Belmont. Julius’ attacks are exactly what you would expect from a Belmont. He largely focuses on using whip attacks from his trusty Vampire Killer weapon but mixes things up with sub-weapons like axes and holy water. It’s a fun treat for fans to finally see how they’d fare against a legendary vampire hunter after playing as the Belmonts for so long. 

9. Satan- Castlevania: Lords of Shadow

When Dracula is usually the main antagonist of the Castlevania series, how do you dream up an even bigger threat for him to face in a game where it turns out that you’ve been playing as Dracula all along? As Dana Carvey’s Church Lady character used to as on SNL, “Could it be Satan?”

The final battle of Lords of Shadow is an epic and challenging one-on-one against the Lord of Lies in a fittingly hellish arena that leads into one of the better recent twists in gaming history. That alone makes it the best 3D Castlevania game to date.

8. Death- Castlevania

Dracula’s number two has been a constant source of frustration for Castlevania players. Seriously, the boss fight against him in the first title might be the most difficult in the entire game, and he’s only slightly easier in many subsequent titles. But hey, it’s death incarnate, so what do you expect?

Death’s appearance has changed little over the years. He’s mostly been portrayed as a scythe-wielding skeleton in a cloak, but he’s also always been a fearsome foe who has even displayed an odd bit of respect toward the Belmonts. That quality alone makes him one of the more unique recurring foes in the mythos.

7. Merman- Castlevania: Symphony of the Night

Mermen don’t make a ton of sense, even in the fantastical world of Castlevania. Why does Dracula always have such a massive sewer in his castle? Could mermen even really live anywhere else? They seem pretty content to only hang out down there, which seems kind of weird, even by Castlevania’s standards. 

Anyway, the mermen haven’t changed all that much since their first appearance in the original Castlevania. Since they’re heavily inspired by the iconic design of The Creature From the Black Lagoon, there also hasn’t been much reason to fix what isn’t broken. They remain an iconic enemy in the franchise, mostly known for posing a little more threat than the typical zombie while adding a little bit of variety to the castle setting and probably not smelling that great.

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6. Slogra and Gaibon- Castlevania: Symphony of the Night

For the record, Gaibon is the gargoyle and Slogra is the thing that looks like a pterodactyl’s skin stretched over a human skeleton. They first appeared in Super Castlevania IV as endgame bosses Simon Belmont fought separately, but they teamed up in Symphony of the Night as Alucard’s first real challenge inside Dracula’s castle.

The designs alone are really creative (especially Slogra), and they looked particularly impressive at the dawn of the 32-bit console generation. Of course, graphics have improved quite a bit since then, but it’s still just plain cool to watch Gaibon pick up Slogra and repeatedly try to drop him on Alucard. 

5. Legion- Castlevania: Harmony of Dissonance

Castlevania enjoyed something of a resurgence in the 2000s, with a string of excellent portable entries that are still among the best Metroidvanias ever made. Harmony of Dissonance might be one of the weakest of those games due to its unusually low difficulty and NES-quality music, but it did make up for it with some especially impressive visuals.

Appearing in two different forms, Legion looks especially intimidating in Harmony’s brighter graphics engine. The first form is the classic ball of bodies, this time held aloft by six angelic wings, while Legion’s second form is a giant ball covered in a shell of bones. Like most Harmony of Dissonance enemies, Legion doesn’t pose much of a challenge, but it’s especially fun seeing Juste Belmont slowly chip away at the giant creature.

4. Beelzebub- Castlevania: Symphony of the Night

Beelzebub is another Castlevania boss that isn’t necessarily the most challenging, but his unique design earns him a high spot on this list. Like something out of a nightmare, or at least a Hellraiser movie, Beelzebub is a giant rotting corpse hanging by hooks. Incapable of attacking Alucard himself, he instead dispatches waves of buzzing flies that you have to fend off while dismantling him piece by piece.

While most Castlevania monsters are firmly rooted in folklore or classic horror movies, Beelzebub remains an especially impressive example of how the series can sometimes put its own stamp on more modern horror designs. 

3. Dragon Zombies- Castlevania: Circle of the Moon

Castlevania did the whole undead dragon thing years before Game of Thrones, and this franchise’s take on that concept was significantly more awesome. Dragon zombies have actually shown up in a few games, but Circle of the Moon ups the ante by throwing a pair of them at you simultaneously. The left dragon spews fireballs at you, while the right spits out balls of electricity. 

It’s a real pain of a fight, and when you finally take out one of the dragons, the other one regains a bunch of health by feeding on the corpse of its fallen companion. Years later, this remains one of the best, and most difficult, boss fights in any Castlevania game.

2. Chaos- Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow

The true source of Dracula’s power makes for one of the most graphically interesting boss fights in the franchise. The idea of “Chaos” as an enemy isn’t new in video games, but in Aria of Sorrow, Chaos has two forms. First, Soma fights it as three demonic statues circle around the screen. When they go down, Chaos reveals itself as a simple black orb defended by four projectile shooting eyes and a massive skeletal dragon. It’s a nonstop kaleidoscopic feast for the eyes that resembles, well…chaos.

Aria of Sorrow is arguably the one other Metroidvania that comes closest to matching (or even exceeding) the greatness of Symphony of the Night, and a lot of that is due to its fantastic creature design. This incredible design contributes to Chaos’ status as one of the best boss battles in the series. Still, Chaos isn’t the greatest threat the Belmonts and company have faced…

1. True Dracula- Castlevania: Portrait of Ruin

Of course, Dracula had to be number one on the list. The eternal quest to slay him is the entire reason the Castlevania series exists. Which Dracula to pick, though? After all, there have been a lot of great final confrontations with the head bloodsucker over the years. For a lot of gamers, the final battle in Super Castlevania IV is especially iconic, but it also doesn’t hold many surprises.

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In Portrait of Ruin, Dracula first mixes things up by attacking with Death at his side. That’s pretty neat on its own, but after you’ve seemingly dealt with both of them, they merge into True Dracula: a giant demonic bat creature that fights with heavy stomps and screen-filling attacks. Just the design alone is way more impressive than the typical tall, pale guy in a cape. You have to pull out all the stops to beat True Dracula, making for what’s easily the best and most epic encounter in the entire franchise.

The post 15 Best Castlevania Monsters and Bosses Ranked appeared first on Den of Geek.

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Reading Summary 2, Dragon Myths

April 25, 2017

Dragon Myth Global Symbols of Power

Tarasque

The Tarasque is supposedly a leviathan. A leviathan, according to different versions of the bible, is a sea monster. Having a turtle shell in that context makes sense, but what about the multitude of heads? Or the bear claws for teeth? This is a historical othering. This dragon is deeply entrenched in alienating heathens and those who stray from faith. In the festival the dragon will be slain by the townsfolk yelling “a ben fa” or well done when limbs fall off. What is the role of aggression in worship? And how does that apply to these dragon myths? Is this a fear mongering tactic? In some versions of this myth Saint Martha was in a shipwreck. In some she merely landed with her siblings. This is interesting. Is this dramatising the story for a better dragon cryptid? Or for a more rags to riches story of a saint? Did this sea monster cause her ship to be destroyed?  

In Hacinas there is one of the biggest Tarascas carnivals. Eight men are chosen every year to work a mechanical nightmare that terrorizes the town. It steals women and they are sexually assaulted inside the monster. The only way to get them back is if their man tells dirty jokes to the Tarascas or fights it. After three days of children throwing stones and pretending to be demons, the Tarasca admits defeat, wilts, and withdraws meekly to the outskirts of town, where it is killed by the mayor wielding a wand What is the wand made from? What does he say to kill it? This carnival had been majorly unsupported by the church, but it is such a town tradition that three days of heathen festivities still take place. This is a public consumption terror, similar to the church speaking of what happens to those who stray from god’s light. A large doll will be placed upon the dragon as a stolen women or the whore of babylon, the myth differs in the symbolism of the woman atop this beast. Her clothes are specially picked out new every year. She is saved once the monster is dead. The Tarascas has a horse skull or jaw bone for a head and a long neck connected to it. The men who control and create this monstrosity have a very laddy way of building fires together and bonding do “men’s” work to prepare. Sometimes a man will be abducted during festivities and he will have salt thrown down his pants to hurt his nether regions. This all seems fairly misogynistic, which is weird since Martha killed it? Shouldn’t this be a powerful story where females fight back against terror and win? Also the fear of female sexuality in these festivities, the implied castration of men is very odd. This dragon has been made into both a man-eater and rapist. Is the Tarasca meant to scare women from being sexual? And possibly men from being sexual with other men?

Saffron Walden Basilisk

Some say that there is a crown of bones on it’s head or just spikes protruding from its skull. It is truly a creature of darkness. A basilisk can be created in many different interesting ways, one is when an old cockerel lays an egg. The age of the bird ranges from 5 to seven years. A cockerel is a rooster. The warmth of a toad, snake, or dung is what helps these eggs to hatch. That version of the myth has queering of gender create monstrosity. A basilisk lives in the dark, sometimes caves. If a basilisk can also be killed by the crowing of a cock, does that reinforce masculinity? That a deemed male bird can take out the birthing of a beast that is the offspring of a gender mishap. In addition, these creatures are terrifying despite their small size, which is different from modern interpretation of basilisks such as Harry Potter and Cornelia Funke’s Dragon Rider. A common way Basilisks are killed is by the their own reflection, similar to medusa in greek mythology. The Basilisk creating a desert and being of either yellow or dark coloring seems to be a racist product of the crusades. It could have been an emotion-dump for harming Turks. So a dragon lay siege to this city. That is one reason they must arm themselves. One way the Saffron Walden creature was killed, after many people had died (possibly in the crusades or from plague), was a knight covering his armor in crystals to kill the beast. It saw it’s reflection and the rest is put into a pamphlet in the library in Saffron. The dragon pamphlet also speaks of the Monstrous Serpent of Henham, a town close by. This is just a sunbathing lizard that scared townsfolk.

Other odd basilisk in history include sewers under rome that are said to hold a dead basilisk. Alexander the great built these and the myth seems to go back that far. A dead venomous creature could account for the smell. There is a goddess of cobras in Egyptian mythology, Renenutet. Apparently her gaze was either deadly or could bring a surplus of good crops. Her followers lived closer to craggy parts of the desert where her baby snakes are found. There are many other versions of a basilisk, especially within Europe. The town Basal, Switzerland has this type of serpent holding its coat of arms. This Basilisk is thought to be the cause of an earthquake in 1356. It is a poisonous worm, that most want dead.   

Hydra of Lerna

In classical mythology, the Hydra of Lerna lake is slain by Herakles during his second labour, possesses the power to spontaneously replace any single head that the hero manages to lop off with two new ones. The Lerna swamp nearby is said to be where this evil was created, out darkness of tree groves. It lived in a cave near the lake shore and had been known to sun itself, like other lizards, on the rocks. A real lizard that resides in this area is the Balkan Green Lizard. These can be found all over Athens and are some of the larger reptiles in the area. One myth says that there originally were seven heads and one immortal one on the hydra.  Herakles did not get credit for this labor because he required the help of Iolaus to cauterize the beheaded stumps. When he took out the immortal head he put it in a hole and covered it with a rock. Today there is a sculpture on top of a rock where the head is supposedly buried. What can be learned from this myth? What could this be an analogy for? The persians? Is this a water monster?

Buccoleon

In the town of Ghent, Belgium is an image of a very caring dragon. The dragon cried tears over the graves of those who died in the crusades which then bloomed beautiful flowers. These were named “Turk’s Turban”, that of course through colonization are taken back to the town of Mordiford and sold. This dragon could be considered a pillaging of middle eastern gold. One interesting part of this myth is that the dragon is not on a coat of arms, but a weather vane. The history of vanes goes back to windsocks made in prehistoric times out of sticks and fur, then being made from bones and antlers. The oldest known weathervane was on the acropolis in Athens, greece. It is known as the Tower of Winds which served in the 2nd century BCE as an early clock tower. Around the same time as this serpent was put up, 1313, other towns used roosters or crosses to top their churches wind vanes. A dragon would need to know how winds work to fly, so having the Buccoleon show the changing wind directions seems logical. His death was out of greed for his beautiful golden scales.

Maracco

The Ilergetes lived on the Iberian peninsula and were originally colonized by the Carthaginian and Roman invasions. There are festivals that still commemorate this dragon, which is incredible considering the colonization efforts to stamp out their culture. The festival includes Lo Marraco, a 8.5 meter long dragon puppet that participates in flower wars with the crowd. In these festivities are reenactments of Roman soldiers taking out the Moors, which goes to show who wrote history. Could not find a lot of information on this myth, but here is a video of kids acting out the life of this cryptid. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwKTrVPUSKk

Bibliography:

Maracco:

https://www.revolvy.com/topic/Ilergetes&item_type=topic

Simonis, Damien. Catalunya & the Costa Brava. Barcelona, Spain (2003).

Let’s Go Inc. Let's Go 2008 Spain & Portugal. St. Martin’s Press, New York (2008).  

Hydra of Lerna:

Magnanini, S. (2005). Foils and Fakes: The Hydra in Giambattista Basile's Dragon-Slayer Tale, "Lo mercante" Marvels & Tales, 19(2), 167-196. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/41388749

Tarasque:

http://bibleandscience.com/bible/books/genesis/genesis1_leviathan.htm

Gutch, M. (1952). Saint Martha and the Dragon. Folklore, 63(4), 193-203. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/1257108

MAGNANINI, S. (2008). Foils and Fakes: Manufactured Monsters and the Dragon-Slayer. In Fairy-Tale Science: Monstrous Generation in the Tales of Straparola and Basile (pp. 117-143). University of Toronto Press. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.3138/9781442688087.10

"Tarasca": Ritual Monster of Spain Author(s): David D. Gilmore Source: Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, Vol. 152, No. 3 (Sep., 2008), pp. 362-382

Saffron Walden Basilisk:

http://allaboutdragons.com/dragons/Saffron_Walden_Basilisk

http://allaboutdragons.com/dragons/Monsterous_Serpent_of_Henham

Mythic Motifs to Sustained Myth: The Revision of Rabbinic Traditions in Medieval Midrashim Author(s): Jeffrey L. Rubenstein Source: The Harvard Theological Review, Vol. 89, No. 2, (Apr., 1996), pp. 131-159

Mordiford Wyvern:

DeKirk, A. (2006). Dragonlore: from the archives of the Grey School of Wizardry. Franklin Lakes, NJ: New Page Books.