downtherabbithole-tumbleedition

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

When I was “I want him” about a male character im not saying I wanna fuck him. I want him like a spoiled little girl wants a pony, I want to him so I can put him on my shelf for safekeeping, I want him like a good hearty stew on a winter’s evening, I want to put him in a jar and shake it.

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

For my “In the Pale Moonlight” fans….

Honey, you’ve got a big storm coming.

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

Mahfaeraak (Alduin x Dragonborn)

Part 1

Aurelia stepped into the dark, endless plainlands of Sovngarde alone.

Seventeen years old, with everything to give and nothing to lose, a sword in her hands and her heart in her throat. Fear wasn’t something she felt often, and she worried the World Eater would smell it on her.

The Blades had a growing army and still they sent her alone, with nothing more than the naive hopes that an unconfirmed prophecy would prove true against all the odds. Aurelia held that stupid, insignificant little prophecy in her, begging it to be true.

The souls of previous Dragonborns came to her aid but Alduin targeted her, as if the others were nothing more than fruits and bread rolls while Aurelia was a juicy, tender steak. The one thing that would quench his hunger.

She tried with great effort to block out the memories of Sovngarde — to push those terrible events to the back of her mind, locking them away so they might never be remembered again — but she still vividly recalled how easily Alduin swept through the Dragonborns. How effortlessly he isolated her. How close his teeth were to her throat. He’d laughed in her face, mocking her in his dragon tongue.

But his arrogance had been his downfall.

The final blow hadn’t been noble or brave, not the kind that was painted in chapels or mimicked in statues. There was no piercing arrow or swinging sword as Aurelia held her head up high — no. With the slip of her hand, her dagger was plunged into the World Eater’s heart and, with a roar of pain, he exploded into nothingness.

Aurelia returned home a hero, Alduin’s destroyer at seventeen years old. And yet, she still was nothing but a pawn to be shoved around and used as those around her pleased. Perhaps she killed Alduin, but snakes still slithered, wanting nothing more than to suck the life out of her.

Just how many people had promised you love and family and home only to stab a knife into your back?

The emperor.

Astrid.

Mercer.

Delphine.

‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me’... But three times? Was that just pure stupidity on Aurelia’s part?

That was why she traveled alone, that was why she rode her life out in solitude. That was why she didn’t stick her neck out for people, especially not extremely attractive dark haired, naked men.

Aurelia was on her trek back to Whiterun, needing an actual bed rather than a pack on the hard ground of a cave. It had been months since she let her guard down in a place where she knew she was safe, and her body was finally growing weary from the minimal sleep and meals, demanding she let herself rest.

That was when her path was blocked by a pack of bandits, demanding this insanely tall and stark naked man give them a hundred septims. And they called her delusional.

“Pay the toll, or its Sovngarde for you, pretty boy,” one of the bandits said, a scantily clad Nord woman. How they survived the cold in such attire was beyond you.

The man said nothing, perhaps he was a mute.

“Gods, this is inconvenient,” Aurelia mumbled, loud enough to be heard.

The male bandit's lazy gaze snapped to her, posture straightening as she approached. He had an ugly sneer on his face but his eyes roamed down her body like a slug and she was happy for her armour. Perhaps the ebony was not quite as intimidating as her Daedric armour, but it did a well enough job to protect her from pointy blades and lingering eyes.

“What did you say, bitch?”

Auerlia sighed tiredly; she just wanted to sleep.

One of the bandits started spouting off some nonsense about gutting her like a fish, but she’d already reached into her boot, pulling out one of her daggers and effortlessly throwing it into his throat. The woman beside him screeched in shock, like a choking bird.

“Can I go through now?”

“You won’t leave here alive!” The woman yelled, raising her steel sword high above her head. If Aurelia was honest, the bandit didn’t even look like she could properly wield a two-handed.

She groaned in the back of her throat as the bandit charged towards her, yellow teeth sneering. With a practice ease, Aurelia had an armoured hand gripped around the point of the sword, stopping the bandit in her tracks. In the blink of an eye, she gave one strong tug, ripping the blade from the woman’s hands and causing her to plummet to the ground.

With the same blade, the bandit’s head was ripped from her neck, tumbling to the ground.

She threw the bloodied sword to the ground, moving forward only when she was convinced there were no other bandits lingering. Odd, how this man was built like an ancient oak tree and yet wasn’t capable of taking care of two bandits.

“For the future, I’d recommend clothing yourself,” she said, a touch of humour in her voice.

Aurelia received no response, he just stared with his blood red eyes. Curious — he couldn’t be a vampire like Serana, not if he was in the sun with no protection. Now that she looked at him properly, well, she could see just how out of place he was. Porcelain white skin, long black hair, insane height, and, of course, eyes as red as blood.

Over the years, Auerlia liked to think she’d gotten quite good at reading people — their intentions, their auras. This man somehow made every alarm bell ring with a relentless force, warning her that he was nothing but danger.

Aurelia did not like anything about this man, nor the energy that radiated off of him. Without another word, she began to walk away.

His large hand gripped around her wrist like a vice, tight enough to make her want to whine in pain. She whipped her head around, alarmed as she saw his glowing red eyes.

One word circled inside her brain and, as much as she wanted to deny it, something inside of her told her it was true.

“Alduin.”

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

Are your request open I saw you do Skyrim and I want to request some yandere's Skyrim x reader but I don't want to ask you if you not accepting any

Hey I am definitely taking requests, they just probably won’t be posted for maybe a week because I’m finishing up assignments and I want to ensure your request is written to the best of my abilities! Ask away and I’ll definitely write something for you.

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

Momento Mori, Momento Vivere

A Tom Riddle x OC Fanfiction

Remember you must die, so remember to live.

-

'Til death do we part'. For how long should such a vow be honoured? Through thick and thin, sickness and in health... but what about when her husband turns into the most sinister Dark Lord wizarding Britain has ever seen? What about when death is no longer an option for her?

What if she has to choose between the boy she raised and the man she swore to always love?

(Cross posted on A03)

It didn't take Sabrina long to decide immortality was a twisted, haunting thing. Perhaps the idea of it was appealing; living forever in the prime of your life, an untouched form of art immune to time itself... to be the very thing men waged wars over. But it should have remained an idea, a hypothetical, an untouchable wish. Would she curse such a reality on her worst enemy?

There were perks to it, of course, it wasn't so sought after for nothing. Sabrina remained perfect, pristine, barely a wrinkle in sight, her hair as shining as it always had been rather than painted white by the cruel truth of time. Those around her spent galleons upon galleons on spells, charms or potions to undo what time had done to them, to reclaim their youth, to appear even a fraction as young as she did.

A fickle and vain thing, perhaps, but she had wondered many times if she would shatter on the inside if her beauty was stolen from her. It wasn't something she had always had, certainly not gifted to her from birth... People who have been beautiful their whole lives do not know what it's like to be unwanted, so they have no fear of being ugly. But when good looks are gained through age, one grips onto them to the point of claw marks.

But no mortal set the world on fire for youth, no, they wanted to evade death himself.

That was the point, wasn't it? The only reason Sabrina was immortal was because someone decided they couldn't bear to see her die; a selfless act, one would believe, but Sabrina knew she was only alive out of pure selfishness, the refusal to grieve her.

Death wasn't evil, he was a gift. Mortals have a lifespan for a reason, after all. There is only so much loss and grief a heart can take before it breaks, perhaps it still pumped blood into her veins and kept her body functioning, but the pitiful organ had died many years before... one too many corpses, few too many smiles. Sabrina had certainly thought she was immune to death, that the news of a friend going cold could no longer pull on her severed heart strings.

But they were so young.

Lily and James Potter had been some of her favourite students - Lily with her brilliance, James with his mischief. Sabrina really did not believe herself to have a maternal bone in her body, but even she couldn't deny the tender spot the two had carved for themselves in her heart. Green eyes, wild black hair... She loved the two like her children.

And they were gone, their souls cast away from their bodies with only a simple green spell, all because of a crazed man and a stupid prophecy. Something she could have prevented perhaps, had she tried hard enough.

So, no, Sabrina did not consider immortality to be a blessing or something worth destroying worlds for, not when she had witnessed every person she had ever loved die or fall to ruin. It was a terrible, inevitable thing - better to not love at all than have your heart beaten and abused.

“Sirius Black has been found guilty of conspiring with the Dark Lord.”

That was just salt in the wound, the blood leaving Sabrina’s face quickly enough to rival a ghost. She’d thought she was going mad when Albus first told her or that he was playing some twisted joke on her, but there was not a trace of humour on the old man’s face.

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” Sabrina questioned him, tone drowning in disbelief, grip almost tight enough to break the delicate tea cup.

Albus was silent, no longer even sparing her glance - the old man had always been impossible to read but she figured it was either grief or guilt, granted the two often went hand and hand for the puppeteer that was Albus Dumbledore.

Sabrina fought tooth and nail to prove Sirius’ innocence, revealing every card she had available, pulling every trick she ever knew, anything to save him from such a fate. But without Albus vouching for him, it was basically useless.

There was still that horrible feeling in her stomach, that sickening sludge of guilt and mourning - a sensation she didn’t know was possible until Sirius looked at her with those grey eyes, usually so dauntless, laced with tears and fear. He’d wrapped himself around her like a child running to their mother after hearing a scary story, as if he believed she could protect him. She had failed him and lost a third child.

Sabrina didn’t want to see Albus, not after what he’d done (or failed to do), but there was still a question lingering on her tongue. Truth be told, she didn’t want to ask it; knowing would only lead her to complications and remorse, until the guilt inside of her became too much and overflowed to impulsive actions of sympathy.

Still, it had to be asked.

“What of the boy?”

Harry James Potter, only a year old and somehow the catalyst for so much tragedy. But oftentimes a catalyst is never willing to be part of destructive schemes.

Surprisingly, Albus told her the truth about Harry (perhaps that should have been her first sign that something was amiss because the man was hardly ever truthful), but she almost wished she hadn’t known. His honesty had done nothing to ease the growing rage inside of her, only adding fuel to flame.

He didn’t put up a fight when she said she wouldn’t allow Harry to grow up in such an environment, not before she ensured it was safe with her own eyes.

It wasn’t.

On the surface, the Dursley’s seemed like a lovely family. White picket fence, loving marriage, healthy son they spoiled rotten - muggles often examined things at a surface level, leaving well enough alone lest they pry into something ugly. But Vernon and Petunia Dursley held a sinister secret, and it was the screaming baby they left in the upstairs bedroom.

Sabrina wasn’t certain how such a noise didn’t alert the entire neighborhood, but she supposed the eighties weren’t so different from the forties; people swept things under the rug, ignored them unless they were right in their face. Maybe the Dursley’s neighbors willingly ignored the neglected baby boy, or perhaps they did not care enough to hear in the first place.

She lost her breath when she saw him; forest green eyes, hair as black as night… An unforgettable scar that was sure to cause him a lot of harm as he grew older.

Sabrina had promised herself she would finally harden her heart to the world, but how could she when the boy in front of her was innocent to the world, when his only crime was being born? Would she be any better than Albus Dumbledore if she simply allowed him to suffer his entire life?

Having already made up her mind, Sabrina gently cradled the boy, silently promising to never let any harm befall him.

She didn’t know how difficult it would be to keep such a promise.

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

Ok so this one a little different but I wanted to see what you can do with it

Can I request a yandere alduin x reborn Dragon Born reader x yandere playtonic pryox

So the reader was alduin mate and pyrax little sister ( i can not remember how to spell that Dragon name the one that on the throat of the world with the Gray beards) but during the war she was killed but she reborn as a dragon born and not only that but got married. And pyrax is torn on helping his sister and joining alduin.

And reader not happy with them and she married a Dragon Slayer

Blood in the Water (Yandere! Alduin x Reader x Platonic Yandere! Paarthurnax)

“We’ll never get free

Lamb to the slaughter

What you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water?

The price of your greed, is your son and your daughter

What you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water?”

- Blood // Water, granson

Paarthurnax knew you.

The dragon had always been told that he read too much into others, searching for things that weren’t there - trying to gain a better understanding of someone by peering into their soul. Well, he liked to believe he could.

But you were different, he knew you. From the moment you climbed his mountain, your very soul spoke to his; like a flicker of fire light after trudging through an endless snowstorm.

This must be a malicious plot, he told himself, remaining guarded with his icy gaze even as he longed to approach you with all the gentleness of the world. Perhaps the Greybeards had decided it was time for Paarthurnax to pay his dues, or the Blades had finally gotten to him… anything would be more plausible than her soul returning.

“Why have you intruded on my solitude, mortal?” He questioned harshly, your shocked and fearful gaze almost making him regret it.

Still, you were able to catch your bearings and face him - something most mortals would not do. “The Greybeards sent me. I am the Dragonborn.”

Ah… perhaps this was Akatosh’s way of punishing Paarthurnax for his misdeeds.

Although Akatosh often did not play by his own rules, there were usually only two ways for a Dragonborn to be birthed into existence: a dragon and a human breeding, or the soul of deceased dragon being reborn into a human.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, not when he really thought about it. Whilst it was unlikely for you to be reborn - what will millions of other dragons who could have been reincarnated - but out of every dragon he had ever met, of course it was you. Dragons could only be reborn because their souls were made of far sturdier stuff than mortals, the very substance refusing to dissipate. And you had the strongest soul of all.

Strong enough to put up with Alduin, after all.

Alduin, the very thought brought unrest to Paarthurnax’s stomach, his insides squirming at the idea of Alduin knowing of your return.

By all rights, Paarthurnax was supposed to help the Dragonborn - you - defeat Alduin and stop the dragons from once again taking over the world. Alduin and his subordinates would give Paarthurnax Oblivion, of course, fighting fang and claw to have the Dragonborn’s head on a pike. But the Dragonborn was a larger threat to most dragons than they were to the Dragonborn, very few having the ability to stand against them. With enough training, perhaps the Dragonborn even stood a chance at defeating Alduin, especially if they wanted to see another day.

However, if you really were her, well… that complicated everything.

Alduin had always ruled with an iron claw, leaving the mortals alive only out of necessity and sinister amusement. His tyranny was not reserved for mortals, either, even the dragons themselves fearing Alduin’s wrath. After all, if he grew tired of the world, he could simply destroy it.

But even Paarthurnax had feared Alduin after your death.

Alduin had always enjoyed ruling, conquering, entertaining the idea for centuries rather than destroying the world and allowing birth for a new one. But when you’d been killed, it was like the dragon stopped caring - as if any emotion aside rage had been beaten out of him. Alduin decided to destroy the world because his had been taken from him.

You, however, had always been kinder - far kinder than an average dragon. No one really knew why, perhaps it was because Paarthurnax and, eventually, Alduin had always shielded you from the world. As the World Eater’s mate, you weren’t expected to lift a claw.

It had been heartbreaking when you discovered just how much Alduin (and Paarthurnax, although he tried to forget that) terrorised the mortals. You just couldn’t understand why Alduin - your Alduin, who always showed you nothing but kindness - would inflict such horrors on those who could not fight back. That was the start of Paarthurnax’s guilt.

You begged Alduin to stop and, because it was you, he compromised - allowing the mortals to exist without being burned down at every move. But some of those mortals took Alduin’s mercy for weakness and formed the building blocks for the revolution.

A revolution where you had been killed.

Paarthurnax almost wanted to side with Alduin after watching you, one of the only dragons who gave a damn, be killed. But, in your dying breaths, you begged Paarthurnax not to fall with Alduin into vengeance. After all, why should all the mortals be blamed for the act of few?

For you, Paarthurnax helped the mortals and ceased the end of the world, dreading the day Alduin would return.

But now you and Alduin were both back and, for once, Paarthurnax had no idea what the outcome would be.

“Have you encountered the World Eater, Dovahkin?”

“I haven’t,” you replied, as he thought; if Alduin had found you before Paarthurnax, you’d never be allowed to stray from the World Eater’s grasp.

Paarthurnax sent you on a “quest” then, to “prove your worth and skill”. In reality, he needed time to think, to gather the thoughts racing through his mind and figure out what he planned to do. It was also to get you away from the throat of the world because Paarthurnax had a strong feeling he would be paid a visit from Alduin.

He was proven right when the black dragon landed on his mountain, quiet anger radiating from his scales.

“The word is true, then. You have returned,” Paarthurnax mused, trying his very best to mask the wariness that was etched in his veins. The ancient tongue felt good, like an old friend he hadn’t spoken to in centuries. He had missed having dragons to communicate with.

“Where is she?” Alduin demanded immediately, voice as commanding and ferocious as Paarthurnax remembered. He didn’t have the strongest thumm for nothing.

“I am unsure what you mean, brother.”

Alduin growled, a warning no doubt. “I am not in a gaming mood. Tell me where my mate is, Paarthurnax.”

“What would make you think she has returned?” Paarthurnax asked casually, the lie easily rolling off his tongue. “She died with the war.”

Paarthurnax knew he was poking a hungry, vengeful bear but, if it meant keeping Alduin off your trail, he would make that sacrifice.

“Cease your treacherous lies, her soul calls to mine. I can feel her very essence. If you do not reveal her presence to me, Skyrim shall burn.”

Well, Paarthurnax would lose no sleep over that. Not if it meant your well-being. You were far more precious than the whole world.

Eventually, Alduin left after his fire clashed against Paarthurnax’s, the throat of the world fortunately remaining upright. Now, Paathurnax just had to pray to Akatosh that you stayed far from Alduin’s reach.

——

Vilkas wrapped his arms around you as your back sunk into his strong chest, nuzzled in his warmth and the comfort of the thick blankets. He placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, making a smile grace your face - the crackling of the fire lulling you to sleep.

“You frightened me today,” he said gently, nose resting in your hair.

“How so?” You replied tiredly, eyes still shut.

“You went into that cave all by yourself and I though…” he sighed. “I thought I lost you.”

You turned your head to look at him then, an almost amused smile on your lips. “You know I can handle a dungeon, right?”

He should have known that, considering the many times you, he, and Farkas explored the deep crevices of Skyrim together. Fighting tooth and nail against the Silver Hand to bring safety and glory to the Companions.

Of course, that was a different life.

“I am allowed to worry about you,” he defended, almost pouting, wrapping his hand gently in your hair. “This Dragonborn stuff… it is not easy, or safe. I want you to be safe.”

You practically shrugged. “I still believe it was mistake.”

He sighed again, tired of already having this conversation a million times. “It was my no mistake, my love. You absorbed the dragon’s soul.”

“And you killed it.”

The Companions had been a home for both of you, especially Vilkas. But he had found a new home with you, one where he didn’t feel the need to constantly fight and kill. For you, he left the companions.

You’d tried to convince him to renounce his wolf form too, explaining that he did not need to live with the constant hunger and bloodlust. He said he would, one day, but he was scared to be vulnerable - especially when he’d left all he knew. You let the matter drop, giving him time to adjust.

You had been accepted into the Companion’s inner circle, given the opportunity to take the wolf form and transcend mortality.

It didn’t work.

Almost immediately, your body burned, forcing the blood from your lungs, coughing it up as if you were drowning. You had passed out and were sick for nearly a week, as if your body simply refused to change its form.

Vilkas had been in charge of nursing you back to health then, and the two of you quickly fell for each other.

At least you were finally given an explanation; the dragon in you denying any other form of blood or soul that would change you.

Regardless of what did or did not happen, Vilkas left the companions and, although he already had an abundance of money saved up (enough to let the two of you live comfortably for the rest of your lives), he became a hunter. Or, more specifically with what had happened to the world, a dragon hunter.

The return of dragons had been daunting for everyone, but not Vilkas. He saw people cowering in fear and found it in his heart to help them, even at the risk of his own life.

You were just there at the right place and right time (or wrong place, wrong time, depending on how you looked at it) and, suddenly, you were the Dragonborn. The person destined to stop the end of the world.

It should have been Vilkas - he was the one he wasn’t afraid of the beasts, who could slay them without so much as a bat of an eye. Perhaps you were strong - even compassionate in the right circumstances - but, selfishly, you did not want the weight of the world on your shoulders.

You did not want to have to face the World Eater.

Paarthurnax had been frightening enough, and he didn’t even want to kill you. How in the divine’s name were you supposed to defeat Alduin? Perhaps that was it - the divines had given up on this world, deciding to mock the chance of survival by throwing them a useless Dragonborn.

“It should have been you,” you often whispered to Vilkas, in the dark of the night when your false bravado left you and only the insecurities remained.

“I will be with you every step of the way,” he would always reply without fail, gently placing a kiss on your skin and holding you close.

You wished he hadn’t promised such a thing because, as you stood in the snow shivering to the bone with a ginormous black dragon flying above you, all you could think of was Vilkas’ safety.

Paarthurnax told you that the secret to defeating Alduin would lie within the Elder Scroll, which was located in the outskirts of Skyrim where no one dared to venture.

So how had Alduin found you? Was he not supposed to be eating the world?

Perhaps Alduin found you unassuming, weak even, because his fire was targeted solely at Vilkas, the nord panting from the constant dodges.

However, one thing you knew you were skilled at was archery.

Your hands shook from the cold and the fear coursing through you, but you did your very best to hold the bow steady, shutting one eye to gain a better perspective on where the arrow would it. You released the string, a flicker of pride running through when it hit its target.

Of course, that was snuffed out when Alduin’s furious red gaze shot to you.

Vilkas yelled out your name, warning you to move as the dragon approached you faster than you thought possible. In a flash, a claw closed around you and your world turned black.

——

Dragons mate for life.

Alduin always believed the sentiment to be stupid, preferring to mount and fuck whoever he deemed worthy. There was no need to risk his own convenience and concern for the sake of attachment.

But then there was you.

Paarthurnax had always had far too much mercy for a dragon, practically allowing his emotions to rule him. Even so, no one expected him to take a younger, abandoned dragon under his wing.

Without even being seen by most, you had become a common conversation topic - none of which was flattering. From what Alduin had heard, you were the runt of the litter, by all means. Abandoned for your inability to grow. Paarthurnax kept you shielded from the words, and even sharper teeth, of the dragon world.

It wasn't until about half a century later when Alduin first saw you - when, under Paarthurnax's mentorship, had you become fully fledged dovah. The spark was instantaneous, Alduin immediately filled with a possessiveness he had never before experienced.

You were his at first sight - nothing Paarthurnax or anyone else did would change that.

And you really were the most captivating creature Alduin had ever met; filled to the brim with life and excitement and curiosity. Perhaps he didn't show it very much but you held his beating heart in your claws, and he was willing to risk that so long as you stayed his. And you did - you were lovely, and extraordinary, and his.

Until you weren't.

Alduin was used to anger. He had felt and understood rage, the need for vengeance. But he never thought he'd experience sorrow - he had always mocked those who felt such a thing, claiming it was a weak emotion that a true dovah would never feel. But then you had been stolen him and his heart hurt.

Ruling had always satisfied him, enjoying every being bowing to him in fear and awe - his ability to do so was the only reason he never ate the world... until there was you, of course.

The world - or at least those who understood what being the World Eater entailed - took a breath of relief when he mated with you; finally the World Eater had something to tie him down, to make him want to keep the world turning.

But then you had been murdered by those mortal scum and Alduin decided that if he couldn't have you, the rest of the world wasn't permitted to live.

However, it seemed Paarthurnax never truly cared for you, disrespecting you and your memory by siding with the mortals and sending Alduin into a time loop.

When he first returned, Alduin was filled with rage, preparing himself to hunt Paarthurnax down and kill the traitor. But then he felt it - felt you. Your soul - as long as it had been - called to his, begging him to find you.

And find you he did, even if you were in the clutches of some mortal half-breed bastard.

It didn't matter; if the World Eater wanted something, he took it. Even if you were kicking and screaming.

----

I'm so sorry that took so long, and the abrupt ending. This was mostly just set up but I'm actually really interested in this concept so, don't worry, there's gonna be a part two! Thanks for reading and I hope to see you there.

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

Sorry for the late reply.

But can I request a playtonic yandere Alduin x daughter Dragon Born reader

Like the reader Dragon soul is his daughter that died years ago but got reborn as a Dragon born dark elf. And when he realized it his daughter reborn he trys to trun her down a dark path and make him Join his side. Please.

And if you can't do it I can think of something else. This just been on my mind lately

Mockingbird

(Yandere! Platonic! Father! Alduin x Dragonborn! Reader)

“And if you ask me to

Daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird, I’ma give you the world

I’ma buy a diamond ring for you, I’ma sing for you

I’ll do anything for you to see you smile.

And if that mockingbird don’t sing

And that ring don’t shine

I’d go back to the jeweller who sold it to ya

And make him eat every carat, don’t fuck with dad.”

- Mockingbird, Eminem.

Dragons did not love. Love was for mortals, for lesser beings who lived only a short life where they could freely give their heart to another with no thought of what eternity meant.

Alduin was as old as time itself, the all mighty world eater who cared only for the power he held. Nothing could sway his cold, black heart - not his brothers, the female dovah he laid with, of the endless amount of mortals he devoured.

But you were so tiny, so fragile - one of his nails would have been enough to end your vulnerable little life. And yet, he found himself not desiring your death, perhaps even feeling sick at the thought of it.

The mortal form was an ancient secret among dragon kind, often used to communicate with dragon priests and blend in among mortals when necessary. Alduin despised to use it and thought dragons who used it often to be weak. However, a benefit of such a form was an easier and faster birth for female dragons, perhaps safer as well.

In dragon form, the female would pass the egg as soon as her body allowed, forcing her to guard her offspring for as long as it took to hatch. It could be an especially daunting time, even more so when the female and male hadn’t mated for life. As distasteful as it was, pregnancy was a far safer process for both the mother and offspring if she stayed in her mortal form until the young could leave the womb.

Alduin had never found a dovah worthy enough to be deemed his life partner, but it was awfully satisfying to see how many would throw themselves at his feet just to be mounted by him. Your mother had been one of those - just another female Alduin had fucked and discarded, most likely not even bothering to satisfy her. He had done it countless times, nothing should have been different.

And yet, somehow, his seed had taken root in her womb and made you.

When she came again at his feet, she was foolish enough to believe the seed in her womb would force Alduin to make her his mate.

“Your young is inside me!” She had exclaimed, clutching her stomach, still in her distasteful mortal form. “You and I shall be bound for life!”

He had laughed her at then, a cruel and malicious sound that had snuffed any hope from her eyes, leaving only fear. Alduin did not tolerate insubordination, planning to kill her and the infernal young that grew inside her.

Odahviing, his general and right hand man, had stopped him - much to Alduin’s rage. The general had claimed that killing her would be foolish when Alduin needed an heir, and she seemed the only dovah that had ever been able to carry Alduin’s young successfully.

Alduin was not convinced, countering that he would never cease to exist and, therefore, no heir was needed. Odahviing had his reply, however, stating something along the lines of the bloodline needing to spread if Alduin wanted to rule other worlds.

Although he found it suspicious that Odahviing was fighting so hard to keep the offspring alive, Alduin humoured him - both from the begrudging urge to have young, and morbid curiosity to see if the female would even survive carrying the world eater’s child.

Just as Alduin had suspected, the female did not survive the birth. How could she when you carved your way out from her insides, leaving only a bloody and mangled mess in her place? Begrudgingly, Alduin felt the prick of pride of his young being entering the world with blood on her hands.

He’d planned to kill you, he truly had… but then you looked at him with eyes as red as his own, your cries calming immediately at his touch. So delicate, so trusting.

Every mortal disgusted him but, there you were, born in your mortal form and… disgustingly adorable.

Tomorrow, he told himself every day when the sun set, failing once again to rid you from the earth. Tomorrow the girl will die. But you never did and, before he knew it, you were talking, walking on your own two feet and hanging off the world eaters wings and horns as if he couldn’t kill you in a breath.

“Can we fly now?” You’d always ask him, picking up the ancient language easily from constant interactions with Odahviing and Parthunax. They were the only other living souls he trusted around you, and even that had very quick limits.

“Entitled girl,” he’d grumble, annoyed at your constant requests at him. But, by the end of the day, you were on his back and he was gliding through the air. “I will throw you off if you do not hold on,” he’d threaten. That did not affect you, however, continuously throwing your arms in the air.

Supposedly, you grew bored of “tame” flights in the air, wanting to find your own wings. Alduin’s heart was in his throat when he no longer felt the tiny wait on his back, watching with wide eyes as you plummeted to the ground.

He roared, loud enough to disturb the mountains, chasing after you as fast as his wings would allow. Thank Akatosh he had caught you before you hit the ground. Alduin doubted the world wanted to know what he’d do if he had lost you.

“Are you a FOOL?!” He’d yelled in anger as soon as you arrived home, smoke coming from his mouth due to the rage that rang through him.

“I just wanted to fly, like you,” you replied, far too calm for someone who had practically been on death’s doorstep.

Initially, Alduin had been enraged and frustrated that you had never turned to your dovah form - your true form. The world eater found himself constantly questioning what value you held if you remained in a lesser mortal form ever, wondering if he should kill you and try again.

However, he very quickly became thankful that you seemed unable to become a dragon - after all, you couldn’t leave him if you were entirely reliant on his protection, right? When you grew up and no longer desired to stay by his side at all times, he could simply lock you up in the highest point of the world, away from the all the dangers and unknowns of the world. Your only visitor and protection being Alduin.

After your little jumping stunt, he pondered locking you away from the world early.

“I’m sorry,” you had told him that night, hiding under his wing as you always did when you were scared or sad. “I won’t do it again.”

No, his plan would wait; you weren’t even trying to get away from him yet, why should he make you hate him so soon?

Alduin did not know gentleness or love or affection but he tried his very best to be those things with you, because you relied on him and were the only thing in this world that wasn’t afraid of him. If dragons loved one thing aside from themselves, it was their treasure, and you were the most precious treasure in the world.

But all good things come to an end and any remorse Alduin had inside him was ripped out when the mortals rebelled.

When they took you from him.

He had been so distracted with their rebelling - forcing his hand to the point of anger - that he left his largest vulnerability opened. Someone among Alduin had betrayed him and you were stolen from him. His blood turning to ice when he realised his most precious treasure was gone.

Relentlessly, Alduin and his army had searched the earth for you, burning cities and devouring armies in his unbridled rage. Until you were returned to him, the mortals would know fear like never before.

But when he found you, your head had been stuck on a pike, hanging up like a trophy in one of the mortal camps.

The world burned.

By the time the elder scroll had been used, most of the world had already been destroyed - abolished and devoured by Alduin’s sorrowful rampage, the dragon king running entirely on revenge.

A small part of him wished the mortals had just killed him so he could once again see his precious treasure.

———

About 5000 years later…

They called you a cursed child.

About ten years ago, you had been found by a mercenary, wandering around in the snow in one of Skyrim’s most isolated and dangerous places. Thankfully, he had been one of those honourable mercenaries (as opposed to those who would have sold you) and took you to an orphanage.

You couldn’t have been any older than eight. It wasn’t exactly out of the norm for the people of Skyrim to abandon their children at an orphanage, but a child surviving the harsh dangers of the mountains for divines knew how long… now that was strange. Stranger when you held no memories of your life or family, not even a name.

What really set you aside from the others, however, were your blood red eyes.

Perhaps the mercenary - having seen all sorts of strange things across Skyrim - thought nothing of them but the people at the orphanage certainly had opinions.

“She’s a demon!” One caretaker had exclaimed, pointing at you with a trembling finger and wide fearful, eyes.

“Kill the vampire!” Another had demanded, believing whole-heartedly you were a blood sucker.

It wasn’t long before the guards had been called, many wanting to see you hung for being a “demonic child”. Luckily, the mercenary had vouched for you, explaining that he had traveled with you for weeks and you hadn’t harmed him. As it was, the guards wrote off the caretakers as “emotional women” and left you unharmed - not without some searing glares, however.

Even if they couldn’t have you burned at the stake, the orphanage wouldn’t accept you and they were under no legal obligation to. So, the mercenary took you to Riften at the temple of Mara - where everyone was reasonably tolerable - and the two of you parted ways.

Priest Maramal was nice enough, being a Redguard in Skyrim he was more than used to jeers and harassment thrown his way. You couldn’t complain about the temple, not when you were given shelter, food, and a bed - which was a lot more than some of the people in Skyrim - but you couldn’t sit still, something in your bones told you to explore, to conquer.

By thirteen, you had pickpocketed earned enough money to leave the temple of Mara.

Skyrim was rough, but you adapted fairly easily. You’d always been strong, even as a child, fast too. Due to your sharp tongue (that Maramal often said you needed to hold if you didn’t want to end up dead), you wound up in a lot of scrapes. If you couldn’t fight your way out of them, you could usually run away.

You circled back to Riften soon enough, gaining entry to the Thieve’s Guild due to light feet and quick fingers. You thought you had found a family within the guild but when you were partnered with Vex and there was a spiky situation… she left you for dead. You got out alive - because you always did - but there was an anger towards the Thieve’s Guild you couldn’t contain. You didn’t go back but, one day, you planned to get you revenge.

At sixteen, you’d somehow stumbled your way to getting Astrid’s attention, granting you entry into the Dark Brotherhood family.

It was different from the guild - somehow warmer, more like a family. Astrid was like an older sister, Nazir like an uncle, Veezera like a cranky grandpa. You’d never felt so loved.

But Astrid set you up and, before you knew it, you were in a wagon trailing to the execution block. It didn’t matter; two families had betrayed you (three if you count the first one that abandoned you) and you had nothing left in your heart.

You witnessed something scarier than death that day, however - fear incarnate. Dragons had always been legends but you never believed you’d see one so close. So angry.

Death wasn’t ready for you, it seemed, because you got away.

Not long after, you killed a dragon and absorbed its soul, the myth of the Dragonborn reviving with the dragons. How amusing it was, to watch those nords be outraged at the thought of the “cursed child” being the living version of their most worshipped legend.

They all wished to be the Dragonborn, and yet that honour was given to a girl with blood red eyes and hatred in her heart.

The Greybeards were boring and the Blades were annoying but Parthunax, well, he piqued your interest. Often times, he spoke to you like you were an old friend rather than a naive Dragonborn he had never met before.

It only became clear when Alduin attacked you and Parthunax on the throat of the world, his teeth and flames out for blood.

“Your arrogance will get you killed,” Maramal had often said, when you thought you could do anything. Maybe you should have listened more.

Stupidly, you thought you could defeat Alduin easily. You were, after all, the one thing that could kill him, right? That’s what was foretold so what did you have to be afraid of?

You had used the Dragonrend shout on Alduin, forcing the world eater to the ground. Parthunax had yelled at you to stop but you ran at the black dragon anyways, sword at the ready to slash his throat. It seemed Alduin had adapted much quicker to the shout, though, catching your sword in his teeth and flying up into the sky.

He dropped you.

Honestly, it was a little humiliating that he didn’t even have to use fire or anything of significance… all he had to do was render you useless by dropping you.

Your helmet fell from your face as you fell, unfortunately giving Alduin a perfect view of your helpless and fearful face.

His eyes are red, like mine, you thought, mind trying to escape the thoughts of death. You wanted to scold yourself for being pathetic when a tear fell down your face, realising your life was over before you did anything significant.

Or so you thought.

———

You woke up with a pounding headache, which was strange considering you didn’t recall falling asleep. You groaned with grogginess, snuggling into the comfortable bed.

Wait… I don’t have a comfortable bed.

You bolted upright, heart pumping with fear as you took in the unfamiliar surroundings. The room was huge, larger than courtroom in the Palace of Kings, made entirely of stone and gold. There were books, furniture, decor but it was all extremely mismatched and unfamiliar. As if from an ancient and unknown time.

The oddest thing, however, was that there were only three walls. There was no wall in front of her bed, only a hole big enough for a dragon to fit through.

Why did Alduin save me? You wondered. What could he gain from bringing me here?

You held back a gasp when you heard a noise and saw a man sitting in one of the chairs, staring at you with eyes as red as blood. He stood when your eyes met, taller than anyone else you had ever seen, armour pitch black and spiky.

He looked oddly familiar.

Idly, he looked around the large room with an almost reminiscent gaze. “I should have locked you in here from the beginning,” he muttered with an impossibly deep voice, barley loud enough for her to hear.

You didn’t know what he was talking about but you knew you needed to get out of there. On your left, you spied a gold dagger - not extremely sharp but it should have been enough to injure him.

“Do not try that,” he rumbled when you made the slightest movement, making you whip your head back to him. “Even if you could hurt me, you are far too high up to ever escape safely, little one.”

“Why am I here?” You demanded.

He looked at you then, and you realised, without a doubt, that he was Alduin. That only made the situation even more confusing.

“You are safe here,” he said, as if it was nothing less than a fact. “You can despise me but I will not risk your safety for your happiness ever again.”

“Aren’t you the one who wants me dead?” You questioned dryly, still internally gawking at the fact you were having a conversation with the world eater.

The bastard chuckled. “You really have no idea, do you?”

You only have him a confused look.

“Why would I ever kill my only child?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, blood turning to ice at his words.

“You’re lying.

“An immortal being has no reason to lie.”

You raced to the gold dagger, gripping it in your hand and throwing at Alduin. He barley needed to move to dodge it, the puny attack having no affect on him.

He left after that, claiming you needed to “calm yourself”. You spent hours exploring the place, restlessly searching for a way out that wouldn’t leave you plastered on the ground.

You didn’t know how long you had been there but eventually, he had come back and you attacked him once more, making him leave again. That cycle repeated itself until you were tired, disheartened by how unaffected he was.

“What do you want from me?” You asked him one day, when you had curled into yourself out of pure exhaustion. He had no answer.

Your numbing limbo changed one day, though. Your armour, light as it was, was stiffening your joints. You stripped out of it, leaving you in the simple clothes you had underneath.

Alduin visited you, like normal, but when you turned your back to him, he roared in anger and his eyes glowed red.

“Who did this to you?” He demanded, voice deeper and louder in his dragon form.

You were confused for a moment, having sported no knee injuries since being abducted. But then you remembered the deep, numerous scars on your back - a reminder of Astrid’s intense training. She once said it was necessary if you were to become strong and you thought she cared about you… but now you wondered if she just always hated you.

Despite yourself, you told Alduin. He was the world eater - evil and deadly, the very thing you were supposed to kill… but he was also the only being who had ever looked upon your wounds, your suffering, and given a damn. And, if he was to he believe?d, he was your father, why shouldn’t you tell him?

It was a strange relief to tell someone else your woes, to unleash the many stories of sufferings and betrayal you had faced. By the end of it, you had tears down your face.

Alduin said nothing, oddly calm. Perhaps, he didn’t care.

“Get on.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, confused as to what he meant.

“Get on my back.”

Still confused, you listened to him, hauling yourself up onto his back and grasping at his spikes so you didn’t fall.

Flying was exhilarating, freedom like you had never known it. You had the urge to spread your arms and feel the wind but Alduin snapped at you when you did.

“Where are we going?” You asked, having to yell so you could be heard over the wind.

“To get revenge.”

When you had told him what had happened to you, it wasn’t your intention for him to burn down Riften. And by all accounts, you should’ve climbed off his back and fought him, made him stop. But… no one in Riften gave a half damn about you. They saw you as the cursed child, a blight on Skyrim.

There was terrible feeling of glee as you watched the wooden houses burn.

You hunted down the Dark Brotherhood after that, adorning your armour and sword, taking a great joy in watching Astrid choke on her own blood.

You knew this wasn’t what the Dragonborn was made more, quite the opposite, but could you be considered the hero of Skyrim when Skyrim hated you? When all you had been given was betrayal and suffering?

You didn’t just let Alduin get away with drowning the cities in fire and blood, you helped him.

The Blades watched in horror as their noble hero was tainted with the blood of the innocent, the Greybeards mourning the prodigy that never was.

Maybe you should have felt guilt but you didn’t really give a damn.

Your blood told you to conquer, so that’s what you did.

———

Alduin feared his daughter would forever be corrupted with ideas of killing him, that she had been manipulated to the point of no return.

Perhaps he should have thanked Skyrim for being so horrible to her - what was it they said? The child that is not embraced by the village will burn it down Yo feel it’s warmth.

The world eater was filled with pride as he watched you slaughter the mortals, the lesser beings who should have known better than to lay a finger on you. If his pride allowed him, he would have thanked Odahviing for making him keep you alive.

Alduin savoured these moments of rage and fire, devouring with his daughter at his side…. Because it would never happen again.

When you had had your revenge and Skyrim had paid the price for disrespecting you, he’d take you back to that tower and ensure you never left.

Perhaps you’d go back to hating him but how could he risk it? How could he risk losing you after he just got you back? Akatosh had given him a gift of mercy in bringing you back to life, and it was not a gift Alduin would waste.

Perhaps in a few centuries, when you were strong enough to defend yourself and smart enough not to be betrayed, you could go free.

No. Alduin truly didn’t believe he could willingly let you back to those wolves in such a vulnerable state. When you could leave on your own, when you had completed your transformation into a dovah, Alduin would do nothing to stop you from conquering the world yourself.

Of course, Alduin prayed to Akatosh that day would never come.

——

I don’t know how that was but I hope you enjoyed. I feel like I rushed the ending a bit lol.

I took some creative liberty with your suggestion so sorry about that.

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

Are you still taking request I saw your world eater Post and click your icon and I want to know if I can request a yandere Skyrim x reader

I didn't know People still know this game o grew up on it

Yeah I could definitely do that for you. Any specifics?

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

Every Breath You Take 

The girl’s body shook, the unforgiving freeze of Skyrim punishing outsiders with her cold bite. She did well to hide it, he had to admit, barely anyone would notice the tremble in her body if they weren’t prodding at her every flaws with their eyes. Like he was.

What was it that Nord man had told her? That Skyrim was a grim and pitiless place for outsiders, from Imperial to Dark Elf. Her heritage was still noticeable when she was young, and the treatment she had faced forced her to carve those words into her soul, doing her best to blend in.

It seemed luck was on her side, the harsh cold forcing her skins natural tan to pale over time. with her hair colour, she became passable as a Nord.

In the crevices of his mind, Alduin was scathing himself for knowing such things, for spending a decade watching her instead of rebuilding his empire.

But would there be an empire without her?

How long ago had it been when he swore to Akatosh that he didn’t need her, that he would sooner see her dead than ever accept her? But then he really did almost lose her, and he knew that could never happen again.

Originally, he was supposed to save her from her untimely demise and then go back into slumber until his true form awakened. Looking as weak as a mortal was detestable and he became rather eager to stretch his wings to the sky.

However, this world was cruel and spared no sympathies, not even for a child incapable of protecting herself.

At first, he tried to assure himself she would fine, that it was not her fate to meet her end and if she were truly in risk of dying, he would be warned. The world was harsh, and if she were to be a match to him, she would have to be strong.

But every time she felt sorrow or pain, he felt it - this terrible stabbing deep within his soul, ripping him in half at the seams, forcing him to be constantly aware of how miserable she was.

How could you leave her?

She’s in pain because of you.

She is suffering because of you.

Are you just going to allow these pathetic mortals to harm her this way? To disrespect her?

The voices were endless; mocking him, terrorising him, torturing him.

Alduin did not go back into his slumber, the voices won. She won. They hadn’t even spoken and she already had the World Eater wrapped around her finger.

For the next decade, a decade he was not supposed to see, he watched her. A silent, unseen guardian eliminating any serious threat. Nothing drastic that would change her fate (he hoped), but enough that nothing bad would happen to her.

Had there been times when he took it too far? He would never admit it out loud but of course he had. It was his right to manage the lives of these mortals, however, so it was all in good faith.

Times like this, times as he sits in a mortal building while watching as she goes about her life, that he wonders if he should not have interfered, let destiny take its course. It was prophesied that he would bring the dragon reign back when the Dragonborn’s power awoke. Ten years had passed and there was not a sign of such a thing happening.

Was this his fault? Was something terrible supposed to befall her so the dragon in her could rise from the ashes?

Fortunately, his worries were unnecessary.

His girl was determined to do something, he knew not for certain what it was, but if he had to guess she was seeking passage back to the Imperial city. Perhaps she decided it was time to face the nightmare of her past.

A minute - he took her eyes off her for a minute, deciding to lag behind on his stolen horse to not rise her suspicion. She was riding faster than he planned, a horde of bandits decided that would be a good moment to ambush him.

He barley lifted a finger, ending their worthless lives in a quick moment, but it was already too late, he had lost sight of her.

This wasn’t the first time such a thing had happened - he used to simply remain in her general area, opting to stalk the paths of Skyrim. But as the years went by, she became the only interesting thing to observe.

But this time was different, she was in distress, Alduin could feel it; panic gripping at his heart, only a fragment of what she would be feeling.

Their souls were linked, which made it incredibly easy to track her down when they were apart. By the time he caught on to where she was headed, she was already through the sealed gates of Helgen and one word ran through his mind from her fear - execution.

Screw subtly, the fire in his blood demanded he slam his way in there, destroying everything in his path until he got to her but-

His veins quite literally boiled, an excruciating pain spreading throughout his whole body. It burned brighter than a thousand suns, pulling at his every nerve. He screamed in pain, and that scream morphed into a roar.

Pain turned to bliss as his wings stretched, his true form finally meeting the skies, fire hot within his throat.

The fear still clutched at his heart, but he remained at ease. It seemed it was time to remind the mortals who ruled them.

And to teach them that the World Eater’s mate was not to be hurt.

——