#Lycan Speculates

[the-starry-lycan]

B'st.

Resh'an.

Say one were to combine their names.. for very normal reasons hehee..

..Would the resulting be: B'shan?

[kinerxy]

Feralytosis

The werewolf disease

Different specimens of the primate order can be affected by this rare sickness.

The main symptoms are a total change in the anatomy of the body, increase in size, elongation of the muzzle and a great appetite for meat, preferably of the species of the infected subject.

lýkos-protanthropos Primordial Were-man.

The Protanthropos is a cuadrupedal animal with great intelligence and are very sociable, they're often found in big groups or tribes, ruled by a dominant (Alpha) pair.

These creatures can spread the sickness throught bites and corporal fluids, altought the percentage of surviving a direct attack of any of these beasts is close to none.

lykánthropos Homo sapiens lycaon.

The illness is believed to have spread to the human world when the outcast Lycaon started his reign over Arcadia, Greece.

Starting generations of disease that stretches into modern times, despite this, werewolves are nearly extinct due to the extensive hunt made by humans.

(top to bottom) lýkoseráida & lýkosnános

These are examples of small variations of the sickness, these are rather exotic due to the spreading method of the disease.

these creatures are often formed by experimentation rather than a natural contagion.

[jennywolfgal]

Bestiary: Werewolf

Werewolves are large predators that're the result of a rabies derived virus dubbed TLV (Therianthropic Lupiform Virus) that overrides the afflicted host's genome into becoming a bloodthirsty killing machine, or kills them outright if proven too weak to survive. Being facultative bipeds, they find it quite easy and comfortable switching to bipedal and quadrupedal forms of locomotion, what isn't as comfortable however is the agony of the transformation, which in contrast to folklore, myth, and pop culture, is gradual and permanent. The sheer pain can be severe to the point where death is not an uncommon result, those that survive the ordeal however end up as formidable monsters that can scarcely be recognized as having once been Human, from the form of generalized hypertrichosis (the furred coat of infected match the host's original hair color and some outlines of the head hair can still be visible), to the growth of a mesocephalic snout that looks superficially canine, save for the lack of whiskers, philtrum, and rhinarium.

Obviously the laws of physics will demand for the infected to seek out copious amounts of protein to gain the mass for growth, often hoarding acquired unconsumed meats with them as they isolate themselves for later consumption to further complete their transformation. Similar to Vampirism and the Human Zombic Virus, the transformation's facilitated by the infected going into a comatose state, though due to the more drastic changes induced to the host's form, occurs during the later stages.

Despite their rabid bloodlust brought on by the virus and the high metabolic demands, thinking them all as mindless beasts can be proven a fatal error, especially for specimens that met and formed packs with other infected (whom they'll be neutral towards, even at recently infected who've yet to really undergo their transformation, passively ignoring them once sensing their condition, only lashing out if physically provoked or threatened), often displaying a frightening cunning such as targeting the wheels and engines of vehicles, or even power lines, satellite disks, and antennae.

While there's no known cure for Lycanthropy, there's nothing short of treatments that can at least ease the pressure, if not outright staving off the transformation process for months or even over a year, such as wolfsbane/monkshood with its sedative properties and silver, both of which are ironically used to slay infected in the past due to monkshood's high toxicity and the Werewolf's allergic reaction to silver.

Art was by the awesome talented AvesAdversary!

[cod-dump]

Non-Human/Monster AU:

Roach is a siren who took a vow of silence in order to prevent him from accidentally hypnotizing people or seducing them. After one too many instances where he unintentionally seduced someone, he decided to stop verbally communicating and learned BSL. He spends the majority of his time in pool on base and wears gear to help keep moisture in when away from it for long periods of time. As a socially unaccepted non-human, Roach keeps to himself and refrains from going into public.

Price is an elf, having lived through many eras thanks to his elven blood. Along with being resistant to fire and extreme temperatures, Price is generally immune to most magic. Unfortunately, this immunity also prevents him from being able to perform magic himself, and effectively making it where he cannot be healed by healing magic and has to use old fashioned medicine to get better. While Price and others have speculated that he is cursed, nothing has been done to break it due to him living as long as he has without issue.

Soap is a wolf lycan, or a werewolf. Being one of the more socially accepted non-humans, Soap was able to grow up in a healthy environment. And like his father, Soap chose to take the initiative to become a certified support lycan. While he had a bright career ahead of him involving therapy and rehabilitation, Soap chose to join the military and help active soldiers. He was paired with several different soldiers to be their support lycan but ultimately went separate ways when Soap started to focus more on himself.

Gaz is a changeling who was adopted by the mother of the child he was originally meant to replace. When his adoptive mother went to retrieve her stolen child, she refused to give Gaz back and decided to raise him as her own. Despite being a socially unaccepted non-human, his mother gave him a good life and Gaz identified vaguely as just a 'fae' to prevent as much hostility as possible towards him. Gaz has a gift in magic due to his fairy blood and is talented in breaking wards and shielding his team from magical attacks.

Ghost is a unidentified undead creature. Like all undead beings, he is ridiculed and rejected by society, which led him to living a very introvert lifestyle. None know what he is but it is known that he shows a strong sense of loyalty towards Price and never puts himself first, no matter the situation. He always chooses to care for his team and those under his care, ignoring his own injuries or care. Ghost never talks about his past and avoids even acknowledging that someone had even mentioned anything about it.

[rallamajoop]

I recently found your blog while working on some things for a Heisenberg fic, and I love it! It made me think more about this HC that I have about Urias and Heisenberg. Since you have a lot of posts that talk about the game files and things like that, I wanted to ask your informed opinion on this if that's alright?

My HC is that Urias is actually Heisenberg's father--not just due to the fact that the concept art and character models look too similar to be a coincidence (in my opinion; I'd also like to add that I've never found anything that confirms or denies (or even refrences) this anywhere online, so if I'm missing something, feel free to let me know!).

I always imagined Heisenberg being close to his father, who likely was the one to teach him everything he knows in terms of engineering (I almost wonder if his name could be Karl Heisenberg Jr., his father being closer in reference to the physicist he's based on than Heisenberg himself. I hope that made sense-).

I imagine Miranda took his father first, whose experimentation results were close to what she was looking for, but no cigar (pun intended), so her next best bet was to hop down the family tree to his son--which yielded much more promising results--giving us the Heisenberg we know and love.

This would definitely explain why Heisenberg is much closer to the lycans than any other character, and why he's able to wrangle them so easily, because he's related to one--even if the consciousness of that relationship is long gone.

I'm so sorry if I came off as weird or anything, your blog just really kind of livened-up my HC and my fic ideas in general, and honestly makes me feelnreally confident about it and wanted to know your thoughts. Thank you! :)

Honestly, my initial kneejerk reaction to this one was “Jeebus, doesn’t the guy have enough dads already?” But on a second thought, heck, maybe there’s actually something to this idea…

The info we get on the possible Heisenberg family from the notes from the concept art is all over the place, and concepts for Heisenberg’s father are the worst offenders. Sturm was supposed to be his real father, Heisenberg’s monster form was supposed to be his father’s, the village leader was supposed to be his father... I assume these were different ideas from different phases (or one was a step-dad?) but sheesh, how many dads does one guy need?

Meanwhile, the one thing we do learn about Urias (apart from the fact he seems to part of some extended Urias family) is that he was supposed to be the village’s leader at some point… but that’s where this whole thing might just get interesting. Because if Heisenberg’s father was meant to be the village leader, and Urias was also supposed to be the village leader… could there have been a point in development where both were true at once, and Heisenberg’s father was going to be Urias? (I mean, as well as the village leader, presumably.)

I mean, they’re both beard-y, grey-haired dudes with a love for giant hammers and long coats. It’s not for nothing that so many fans came out of the early previews for this game assuming Urias was just Heisenberg in lycan form. Those concept pics of Heisenberg's father in a trenchcoat with a shock of grey hair aren't a million miles from Urias' design either.

There's some plausibility to the idea of Miranda experimenting on members of the same family too, especially if they've got cause to claim descent from one of the four founders. I speculated as much myself about what might have happened to the rest of the Beneviento family in my post on her background. Heisenberg specifically strikes me as more the sort of guy who probably wasn't born in the village, given he names his monsters in German, mocks the very idea of his lordship (more on that here), and is clearly the least brainwashed member of the family. But that's interpretation ‒ there's nothing truly definitive either way.

You'd have a harder time squaring 'an engineer who taught Karl all he knew' with Urias' role as the village leader, though ‒ I have trouble picturing anywhere as superstitious, isolated and backward as the village being led by someone with that much 'outsider' knowledge to pass onto his son. RE has certainly tried to sell us on wilder things, but it doesn't really click for me.

As for Heisenberg's affinity for lycans, that's more debatable. He certainly seems to be commanding them at the start of the game (just to really cement all those lycan!Heisenberg theories!) but past that point, any lycan associations dry up very quickly. There are no lycans to be found anywhere in the factory ‒ just soldats, and moroi wearing mind-control visors (called ‘haulers’, but they’re obviously just new versions of the creatures you meet in Donna’s domain). Why bother putting visors on skinny zombie creatures if he could command lycans without them? Doesn’t really seem like Heisenberg’s ability to control lycans goes far beyond ‘stop’ and ‘go’.

True, Heisenberg does leave his Rose-flask in a stronghold full of lycans. But he also sends Ethan to that stronghold, where he has to fight and kill Urias himself. The idea that Heisenberg was ever close to his lycan-dad is going to be hard to square with how casually he sends someone to kill Urias, or how pleased he seems that Ethan succeeded. In Heisenberg’s mind, lycans are nothing so much as they’re expendable – Urias included.

So as far as the finished game goes, I think it’s probably reaching to suggest that Urias (of the extended Urias clan) is related to Heisenberg, who so casually throws him in Ethan’s way as a test. But the possibility that maybe Urias was going to be a Heisenberg at some point in development is a better explanation for the fact the Urias-clan are so big into hammers and trenchcoats than any other explanation I’ve heard yet. It’s certainly no crazier than so many other headcanons I’ve heard around this game.

But speaking of the Urias-clan, let's cover the other Uriasi you can find around the game. Urias Strajer (the bigger version of Urias with the mace that Chris fights near the megamycete) is supposedly Urias' older brother ‒ something the concept art wants you to know so badly it's mentioned on pictures of both of them. So if you still want one of them to be Heisenberg's father, the other is presumably his uncle. Heck, maybe Strajer could be Heisenberg's father, and Urias could be the uncle he never liked very much (despite his excellent taste in hammers), if you want to explain Heisenberg's lacking reaction to Urias' death. Some of the game files for Strajer are labeled 'village elder', which also points some kind of connection. Chock up some more evidence of Miranda experimenting on members of the same family too!

The two axe-wielding optional bosses you can fight in the sawmill and over Claudia's grave are apparently Uriases too ‒ Urias Drac, specifically, though you'd only know that from RE.net, where you can see stats for how many of them you've killed in Mercenaries mode. Personally, I only realised they were supposed to be lycans at all because you can one-shot them with the magnum if you unlock the 'special customisation' that 'does extra damage against lycans' ("extra" apparently means "10x" in special-customisation land). But presumably they're based on the same unused design from the concept art of this one 'lycan' out walking his varcolacs too.

Are these Uriasi too part of the greater Urias-family? Who knows ‒ that one's up to you. Their bodies, with that swollen weak point on the back, do match the model for Urias Strajer (shown below). In fact, I'm pretty sure all the Uriases use the same base model, just with different clothes, armour and hair. So there's some shared DNA in there somewhere (even if only in the sense that recycling a good model saves so many hours of development time).

The name 'Urias' is apparently a term for giant in Romanian, which checks out. Strajer, meanwhile, apparently translates as 'guardian' or 'sentinel', which tracks with the fact Strajer's job is to guard the megamycete. 'Drac', meanwhile, seems to be the same word you might know from Dracul (dragon or devil) or Dracula (son of the above) ‒ though I am also amused that google translate tried to tell me 'urias drac' means 'huge fuck'. 'Giant demon' may be more on the money for that one. Either way, all this etymology does strongly suggest that 'Urias' is more a description than an actual family name. Which is somewhat reassuring, because nothing I've read about Romania suggests they put surnames first.

Probably just to annoy me, personally (because I absolutely will overthink this shit now you've got me started), one of the models used for regular-vanilla-Urias is randomly called 'Gregorio', a name that shows up nowhere else in the game. There is a Grigori ‒ he's that old guy who gave Ethan his first handgun before the lycans dragged him away.

I really do not think we're supposed to take it that Urias is a lycanised Grigori, though ‒ that's rather too big a transformation in not nearly enough time. Otherwise, 'Gregorio' is neither Romanian or German (like both 'Karl' and 'Heisenberg' are) ‒ it's Italian or Spanish, which is just confusing. One of the four founders (more on them here) did have a vaguely similar name ‒ Guglielmo ‒ but I don't think that's really close enough to mean much either. 'Gregorio' could be the name of a developer who worked on the file once, for all I know.

So where does that leave us? Honestly, nowhere very exciting. None of the evidence of this greater Urias family was actually in the playable game (notes on concept art and names you have to find on an unrelated website are very tenuous canon at best). Still, Urias and Urias Strajer are similar enough that it's reasonable to assume they must have some sort of relationship. So take all this as you will (or not at all).

[pinktrashgoblin]

Who are swapped in your swap au?

didn’t draw anything for this but

Cube is swapped with Blix, Hound is swapped with Lycan and Sabre is swapped with Cuda, that’s all I have as of now. Didn’t do anything with the Knights bc I don’t care for them lmao, also what am I supposed to swap them with, each other?

do with this info what you will

also feel free to speculate on how the plot would differ bc I am also (trying to) figuring that out for funsies!

[therewasatale]

My lord (Part 1)

On Ao3.

Part 1 - overworked again

Summary: Lord Heisenberg had no idea what treasure he had found when he came across you near the village. You were running away from a bunch of lycans, you were smart, but foolishly you left your home after sunset.

Part 2

You cleaned up the last stain from the metal table. The light around the room were reflected on the surface of the operating table. No one could tell that a lifeless body laid there a few hours ago.

The strong smell of chlorine suppressed the odour of everything else. The shape of the body and the crimson liquid pooling under it was only a faint memory in your mind.

The poor, unfortunate soul had already become unstable on the way towards the factory. Although the Cadou endowed him with minimal brain function, his body collapsed during the operation and the parasite died with it.

You wiped your hands on a clean cloth as you glanced over to the clock. It was almost two in the morning.

Behind you, Heisenberg was still murmuring under his breath. The room was filled with the click of bolts and gears. Sometimes a painful creek could be heard when some parts indicated that something was not entirely aligned.

You’ve seen it many times before, but you were still impressed by his ability, and Heisenberg himself. A faint blush spread under your eyes.

As he leaned over a desk, his hair tied up, a few strands of stray hair still hung over his face,

You could clearly see the scars that running through his face. Your gaze lingered on the one on his lips, which he gently bit into, thinking.

He flicked his fingers, and from the pile of the metal parts in front of him, a screw came to life and danced into place. Heisenberg screwed it in slowly with a screwdriver in his hand.

Even you yourself didn’t know the limits of his power, but over the years you’ve speculated that precise control and alignment of tiny metal parts required much more concentration than throwing around larger sheets of metal.

You also saw what it can do if you get angry. You felt it on your own skin what it’s like when Heisenberg doesn’t pay enough attention where the splinters of the metal pieces he throws around might end up. Even a simple spoon near him could become a dangerous weapon.

"Shit!"

Heisenbeg's painful yell snapped you out from your thoughts.

The screwdriver fell out of his grip as he grabbed his right hand. "Fuck-, fuck, god damn-"

"What happened?" You were next to him almost immediately.

"My hand. Cramps." He clenched his right wrist with his left hand and took deep breaths between his teeth. "Fucking-"

"Let me see it." Stepping in front of him you reached out to his arm.

Maybe he wanted to object, but as he looked into your eyes he nodded slowly. You could almost see the muscles tensing in his palms. "All right, it's going to ease soon." Pulling his hand closer to you, you began to gently massage it starting from the middle of his palm towards his fingers, then back again.

"Shit." Heisenberg grimaced at the feel of your hand. He was still holding his arm with his left hand, but he didn't pull away. Not even when he felt his hand tighten up again for a moment. "I don't even know why is it cramping...fuck."

You knew why, it only took one glance at the three full mugs on the table next to him, but you didn't say anything. This wasn't the first time he overworked himself, and not the last time he hasn't listened to you. Not because he didn’t want to, but simply because he got so immersed in his work that he completely shut the outside world out.

The cramp slowly eased under your fingers, and little by little Heisenberg managed to open his palm. Although his grumbling had stayed. His eyes wandered slowly between your fingers and your face. He watched for a few moments as a red blush spread faintly under your eyes.

Still you concentrated on relieving the pain in his hand.

Lord Heisenberg had no idea what treasure he had found when he came across you near the village. You were running away from a bunch of lycans, you were smart, but foolishly you left your home after sunset.

As it turned out, you had some knowledge in herbs and medicinal plants, and your understanding of anatomy was also promising. You still had a lot to learn, but Heisenberg saw the potential in you. In exchange for your life, you had to serve the lord, and as a simple human, you didn’t really have the option to protest.

"How does it feel?" You asked, slowly releasing his hand and watched him close and open his palm. You could still see his hand trembling a little, but the cramp was definitely looser.

"It's fine. I can go back to work."

"Hm," reaching out again, you gently grabbed his arm and ran your fingers all the way from his fingers to his wrists. His skin was rough and cracked, and just like on his face, you could see small scars here and there, the origins of which you may never learn.

"I'm fine." He couldn't hide the fatigue in his voice.

"I know." You ran your fingers along his forearm, his skin trembled for a second under your touch. For some reason, the feeling of pain reached him more than usually. "Let me help a bit." You draw tiny circles on his arm as you began to massage him moving up on his arm. His body tensed from time to time, and sometimes you could hear him suppressing a pleasant sigh.

Heisenberg closed his eyes and let the feeling take over him for a few moments. The soft tingling ran up to his shoulders, and he could sometimes feel it in the back of his neck too.

It was one of those days.

The last time it was this bad was about three years ago. His whole inside throbbed with pain, his scars flared up, and sometimes he could barely move his fingers from the cold creeping into them. However, what never left him was the constant tightness that spread from his chest.

It had been three years since he had pushed beyond the boundaries of his strength. Now, with the expansion of the factory and the creation of the Grinder Shaft, he began to completely exhaust his power reserves. And the Cadou in his body, once again, reminded him very clearly that his strength come from it, from that repulsive parasite.

As if he could have forgot at any time.

In his nightmares, he revisited the evening when the creature was implanted in him by her. Mother. Oh how much hatred he could spit towards the being who forced this fate on him. This damned, repulsive fate.

Something throbbed, three inches below his heart, and he felt bile in his mouth.

"Heisenberg?" You took a glass of water from the table and handed it to him. "You're pale as a ghost. Can I help you?"

He looked into your eyes. Even now, he could still be surprised that you were genuinely worried about him.

It would have been a lie to say he completely hated what he had become. After all, he was given a power he had never dared of dreaming about. He was the most dangerous lord of all, and he was able to build virtually anything. And he will use this strength to destroy its creator.

"I'm fine. Just tired." He took the metal cup with his left hand and after a small sip he downed the water almost immediately. He hadn't even noticed how thirsty he was.

"You need to rest, at least for a few hours," you raised your hand before he could speak. "At least until your body realizes you finally drank some water and your hands stop cramping."

"I need to work."

"I know." You gently caressed his fingers. "But your body needs some rest."

He looked at yours with his gray eyes, you wanted to look away for a second but instead you let him see into you. You wanted him to trust you to see that you didn’t want anything bad for him. But still you could feel the heat flare up on your face as his gaze softened.

"Just a few hours." He pulled his hand away and began walking out. He stopped in the doorway turning back. "Before you go to sleep, I'd like some tea." Then he left.

You, however, had other ideas.

[highlifeboat]

Well now you've got me curious: *Would* Angel have done anything to their sibling? The curiosity got sated with their father, at least somewhat, yeah? But tastes like that don't tend to go away very easily... On the other hand, their father *and* their sibling dying when they are also MIA/nearby would be highly suspicious, and they probably would want to avoid that. Versus the murders they were able to more easily dismiss as Lycan/Dimitrescu attacks (barring their mother's own, correct suspicions, of course)

From what you said about their backstory, they never actively harmed their sibling (or at least if they had, it went unmentioned and/or was small/manipulated enough that the siblings would still defend them so strongly as innocent).

Further: What ever happened to the sibling? I mean, they witnessed Angel beating their (old) mother's head in with the Village version of the Bible, and being dragged off by the Village god/cult leader. Did that finally shatter the illusion for them?

Or, perhaps (and mind you, this is just a theory I find fun to imagine, no real basis for truth other than their stalwart defending of Angel)... the sibling was more like Angel than anyone ever realized. They were just more subtle/better about not getting caught.

(Of course, this is all just speculation/analysis, they are your characters and you have final say, after all. I just like theorizing darker characters lol)

First, I enjoy the theory that Angel's sibling was like them. Especially because their mother saw the sibling as the golden child. What are the odds she birthed TWO murderous sociopaths? Pfff.

That said, I honestly think that Angel saw their sibling as useful to them. Without them, it would just be Angel and their Mother, there would be nothing preventing their mother from kicking Angel out, or locking them up, or... getting rid of them somehow. Their sibling was a form of protection, security. Something that guaranteed their place in the home. (And... yes, they did also consider that if their sibling suddenly vanished and it circled back that Angel had been with them, or couldn't be found at the time, it would probably ruin everything. A child killing their father with a gun can be considered a horrendous accident. Their sibling vanishing shortly after is suspicious)

It also aided in driving their mother fucking MAD. Because every time she became suspicious she had her eldest child telling her she was crazy. "[They aren't] a killer, Mama!" (To be fair it didn't help that Angel played innocent very well.)

Oh, they considered the idea of killing their sibling a lot. But sated the thoughts with the murders of strangers. And on one occasion her mother's new lover, who they didn't care for all that much. Among others... It never quite quenched the thirst (if anything it only drove them more), but it provided some kind of catharsis none the less. They did their best not to harm their sibling in anyway that mattered (perhaps the odd... "accident". Engaging in rough housing that maybe sometimes lead to minor injuries that could be dismissed)

To their sibling, Angel was always... well, a little angel pff. If a little weird. They loved them, and they felt terrible that their mother continuously pointed the finger at Angel whenever someone vanished or was killed. Especially because they though Angel never fully recovered from their father, and worked under the assumption that a lot of their strangeness just came from the trauma.

So you can imagine their shock and horror when Angel beats the shit out of their mother. And how that kind of forces off the rose coloured glasses they've been looking at them with. They knew Angel had problems with their mother, they knew the two butted heads, but they never would have thought something like this would come of it.

Angel did see the look on their face, but they can't say they felt much other than wishing they could finish what they'd started. (Once Miranda was physically involved they knew it was over. But GOD it took forever for the anger to settle)

In the aftermath... There isn't much to be said. Sibling felt awful. They apologized over and over to their dying mother. They lost a lot of sleep over it. So much guilt. Of course, this was no proof that Angel had committed the murders their mother had accused them of in the past. But it did make them wonder, and it made them all the more horrified to think about it. Most likely they fell into a drunken stupor, they became horribly depressed over it all.

Angel would never say they actually loved their sibling, but goddamn they aren't sure they would have gotten away with so much without them.

[hyperenor]

who?: @adamoromerof where?: the streets, no sprinklers to run through in lupercal?

❇💎❇

"Oh, I see. The mistake was mine, but it makes sense now." Imagine Hyperenor's surprise to sense an inkling of his brother's lingering presence in the most unlikeliest of places. The guy looked stiff but seemed harmless enough. He couldn't imagine why Pelorus would want to play his games with such a tight ass, but it wasn't Hyperenor's place to speculate (though he did have a few ideas). At least now he knew, so he could utilize the residual Pelorus floating around the lycan to his advantage. "If my brother is engaging in his usual exploits then that's one less brother I have to worry about crossing paths with as I work. How often would you say the one named Pelorus seeks out your company?"

[savage-rhi]

For the Fanfic Writer Ask Game: What rating do most of your fics fall under? What kind of document do you use to you write? Microsoft Word? Google Docs? Straight in the AO3 text box? What’s your favorite line(s) or scene(s) that you have written?

@vodkafolie Hey friend!

What rating do most of your fics fall under?

I'd say my work is geared towards young and older adults. For me young being 18+. I like writing with themes such as violence, gore, sex, complicated situations/feelings, etc.

What kind of document do you use to you write? Microsoft Word? Google Docs? Straight in the AO3 text box?

I generally write out everything on Google Docs. Then when I copy and paste it into AO3, that's where I do my editing and touch ups. Google Docs is great for throwing down raw ideas, and when I go on AO3 I go into the mentality of polishing and adding or subtracting.

What’s your favorite line(s) or scene(s) that you have written?

I don't like my work a whole lot 😂. If I had to pick any, I'd say these:

A. I enjoy a lot of the bantering at the beginning of The Sacrifice between Karl and Sonja. They play off each other well, and I like how overtime you can see Sonja's confidence around him grow as she gets comfortable with him. One scene in particular that stands out is where Karl is cleaning up her wounds from the Lycan attack and they're just playing off each other.

B. I think for Sky of Atoms, I enjoyed writing Higgs throughout this work. There's a lot of speculation as to what becomes of his fate in Death Stranding. It was a lot of fun to explore what could have happened after Sam and Fragile left him on the beach, and how he could try navigating life after. I like the scenes of Higgs and Gene traveling together and how they both compare and contrast their respective lives.

[the-starry-lycan]

Living Glass Lore Headcanons

Living Glass Headcanon Lores:

How does Living Glass work exactly? It's based off normal glass, though Resh'an modifies its density with his alchemy, and by altering its chemical structure some, allows it to enter a state which ensures it has some fluidity. The magic holding it together is derived from the will and the life-force of the being encased in the glass - essentially, as long as the entity within possesses strong enough will, it "powers" the glass, keeps it alive, and allows the being possessing it to use it as a vessel. Additionally, such shifting density means that the Living Glass is extremely durable and absorbs shock easily - though one can still be wounded through the glass, hence how B'st can be hurt and KO'd in battle. Living Glass itself is composed of similar silicate materials as normal glass, though its sheen and color is taken from quartz derivates. Resh'an likely imagined one could create different colors in it by using crystal impurities found in common gemstones (like the chromium + vanadium that makes emeralds green), and the plain glass has a green tinge like sea glass. However, to make it "living", the Glass contains crystal filaments, akin to the striations found in Lemurian Quartzes, though these are actual nervelike filaments of enchanted metal, preferably of silver-tungsten alloy, which carry the magic and electric signals that allow for one to really control and manipulate the form of the Glass. These metallic filaments also are what allows the being to feel with the Glass, as the magic surrounding the glass transforms outward stimuli to electrical impulse, and the metal filaments carry this similarly to the way nerves in the human body do with action potential. These filaments are so fine that they aren't visible to the naked eye.

The density I mentioned earlier because of Reshy's reeeeaaaaally complex magic that I won't go into because magic? It can be somewhat counteracted by temperature. B'st likely feels sluggish and fatigue in the cold because the Living Glass gets stiffer and solid (due to molecular shenanigans) - and he likely feels more frisky and active in the heat because the Glass gets more liquid and motile (more molecular shenanigans).

Living glass, obviously, can feel. B'st is able to move the stuff around and manipulate his body, and he can feel pretty well through it. What sensations can he feel? Well, temperature I imagine. Pain, too, but that's a little tough to induce in Glass Golem - he also seems impervious to most damage, as in B'st sprites we see that he does not crack. He was also able to take a hit from the Fleshmancer in Garl's place, and recover fine, so I'd imagine it takes a lot to cause B'st much pain. He can feel other feelings like pleasure and all manner of textures on the glass, just the way skin feels texture. Perhaps heat can make the Living Glass more sensitive, and if B'st chooses to prime the Glass, alter its structure some to try and concentrate the little nervelike fibers that allow him to control it - he can feel sensations more intensely. This makes the sensitive Glass good when dealing with dexterous jobs that require a lot of precision.

What does Living Glass feel like to touch? Probably feels like normal glass, but less stiff and definitely more pliant. Smooth in texture, and unless B'st is hurt or feeling bad, there'd be no cracks or surface roughness. Ultimately, it probably feels a tad like putty or molding clay, but.. more glassy? It's a weird feeling to imagine, as it's hard to imagine handling glass that isn't at risk of shattering with a distictive stiff-sharpness. Also, I imagine that if there isn't a soul inside the Glass, it turns into a sort of.. dry, silky powder, similar to a fine sand or igneous stone dust.

(Deep breath) Okay, there we are with all my ideas about how the Living Glass works! It's not really gone into during the game, so I used my brainpower to make an entire insane rambling about it :) It's a million words long and congrats if you make it to the bottom!

[cannibalisticskittles]

i've seen a lot of people speculating that we aren't going to get helia and we're getting a dragonborn companion instead and i will be truly devastated if that's true, but it very well might be

i mean dragonborn are interesting

but halflings......

halfling lycans........

[the-everlasting-downpour]

The World of TED

bold text - main cast cursive text - secondary characters normal text - tertiary (episodic) characters

Characters (TED):

M. (SOON) Eugene (SOON) Lord Reekis (SOON) John (SOON) J (SOON) Maxim and Igor Novikov (SOON) Torren and Evren Noah (SOON) Sergei V. Nechaev (SOON) Rudolph and Henry von Ernen (SOON) Mark Baade (SOON) Alex Barnes (SOON) Erica Riqque (SOON) Brenner (SOON) Henry Yokuman (SOON) Bella (SOON) Marci (SOON)

Characters (The Crisis):

anything marked red are highly disputable author's speculations.

Blixter (SOON) Lycan Tropi (SOON) Cudda Amin (SOON) The Players (SOON)

Groups (mentioned in the storyline):

SOON

Locations (mentioned in the storyline):

SOON

Miscellaneous:

Misc. posts from the old blog Old version of the poem from Ch. III Alt. version of the poem from Ch. VIII Alt. version of the poem from Ch. VIII (II)

[definitionofacritter]

Replacing my original 3rd guess, fighter echo knight, in for artificer armorer. Or artificer artillerist. Let's see how we do!

[greatlydelirious]

𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

Karl Heisenberg x F!Reader

wordcount: 6.5k words

summary: As the town’s only healer (the title “Witch” used by your detractors) you try your best to save those under the foot of a false prophet. A wicked agenda was growing its roots and unbeknownst to you, you were at the center of it all. This is a tale of two unlikely people coming together in the name of lust, love, and retribution.

chapter warnings: smut, semi-public sex, light angst, porn with plot

previous chapter | next chapter | (AO3 Link)

I: Into the Woods

“The wolf is carnivore incarnate and he's as cunning as he is ferocious; once he's had a taste of flesh then nothing else will do.”

A young woman lived alone in the midst of a cold, bitter winter. Some speculated that she drained the energy of the vulnerable to keep herself warm. For the only way to explain her survival was the doings of dark magic.

Your roaring fireplace and tired eyes would refute those claims, however.

From the outside, your cabin looked like every other residential one in town. The only thing that distinguished yours was the small wooden sign on the door, “Wounded and Ill Welcomed”. Inside lay a makeshift hospital. You considered yourself more of a healer than a doctor though.

Jars of different herbs, salves, and disinfectant fluids were strewn about. There were also tools you collected over the years and homemade bandages/ wraps you made from various cloths. Although it wasn’t much, it was effective enough. Your kitchen also ended up storing more of your supplies than actual food. Even your “work” seemed to seep into your small bedroom.

Books upon books sat atop your dresser and desk. Many of them were botany and medical books The Duke was able to obtain for you. At this point, you had probably read each one five times. You craved to learn more. Before the village was under the control of the Black God it was a pleasant place to live.

That’s what your grandmother used to tell you at least. She was the one who fed your thirst for knowledge. You would always find old books she snuck under your covers. It was your own little secret. Unfortunately, it had to be. It was important for people not to know your mind wasn’t focused on the prophet Mother Miranda. Those same books sat on your nightstand to this day.

Small sniffles fill the space of your home. A boy from the village came running to you in such a crying mess you were barely able to understand what he was saying. Turns out he had gotten a little too adventurous for his own good and gave himself some deep scrapes. You move the child’s leg back and forth to test his freshly bandaged knee.

Plucking the last piece of candy from your jar you hold it out to the little boy. “Let this be your lesson as to why you need to stay away from the Reservoir. Next time a giant sea creature might gobble you up.” The boy finally rewards you with a giggle as he takes the candy from you. Fishing around in his pocket he produces a pouch that holds 50 lei.

You’re surprised that during his tumble he managed to not lose the coin. After you take the payment you mother the boy one more time, “Stay out of trouble now!’’ He leaves you with a meek “yes ma’am” before scurrying back home. A heavy sigh rushes out your nose. You couldn’t figure out who injured themselves more; the kids or the town drunks. One was definitely better to tolerate than the other though.

You bask in the newfound silence as you clean everything up. Today was full of people coming in and out. Although it was good for your pockets, it concerned you. Not only were Lycan attacks taking their toll on the village, but people have been letting their fear cause them to obtain easily avoidable injuries.

You take stock of your inventory and put together a list of everything you would to gathering the next day. Some stuff you were able to forage, while others only The Duke could supply. That included your coveted bowl of sweets. It was something you did for the younger people of the village. (Or it was used to convince some sniveling men to stop squirming.)

Life as the only healer in town was far from easy. Even so, your conscious wouldn’t let you turn your back. Not again.

Locking the front door, you decide to turn in for the day. You had a lot of work to do tomorrow. Not even bothering to change you flop on top of your bed and knock out the second you close your eyes.

-

Sun shining onto your face through your dingy bedroom window wakes you. A groan slips past your lips as you squint your eyes. If only you could sleep the whole day away. Sadly, days off weren’t a thing you could afford. It takes all your willpower to pull yourself out of bed and get changed.

You pull on a cropped sleeve brown dress that has a V-shaped neckline. The dress flowed down to just above your shins. Short by conservative standards, but the perfect length for traveling through the woods. If the fabric was any longer it would snag on all the overgrown plant life. You learned that lesson when you almost ripped your skirt to shreds on a broken branch. The thought of having to run back through town in only your undergarments was enough to dissuade you.

To keep your modesty, you tie your black cloak around your neck. You had the item since you were a teenager. It was a gift from your mother on the last birthday you got to spend with her. No matter how many times you attempted to be convinced to get something warmer, you couldn’t get yourself to get rid of it.

With only slight difficulty you synch a darker brown corset around your waist. There wasn’t a lot you had control over, so you tried to with the way you dressed. Some older women of the village gave you judgmental stares, but when did they not? Almost stumbling out the door you manage to pull your boots on. Stupid clunky things.

Wrapping your cloak tightly around your body you try to shield yourself from the harsh cold as you start your errands. On your path to the altar, a friendly face pops into view. “Look who decided to see the light of day!”

You shack your head at the young woman Elena. Not only did you grow up with her, but her father Leonardo came to you with a new injury nearly every week. The man worked hard to provide for himself and his daughter. You respected him for that.

“Just because I don’t skip around the village doesn’t mean I don’t go outside Elena.” The girl’s smile doesn’t falter. “That would be quite a sight.” She wasn’t wrong though. You were so busy either healing people or reading books that you didn’t venture outside unless you had to.

Continuing forward, you notice how she takes the liberty to join your walk. You were successful at keeping other people at arm’s length; however, you couldn’t help but have a soft spot for Elena. How could you not when she was always so eager to talk to you? It could get very lonely in such a secluded place, especially with the lack of people your age.

For a while, you enjoyed each other’s company in silence. That was until Elena leaned towards you, her voice just above a whisper. “Rumor has it that when you’re not healing people, you are repeating incantations in the dark.” At her tone, you can tell she is merely teasing you, but those rumors were actual whispers around town.

The locals took slight issue with your makeshift clinical. Someone even yelled at you once about how you were a non-believer and Mother Miranda was all the village needed to bring them good health. Many who had this mindset were too far gone to even try to convince them otherwise. Not you though, never.

Suspicions of your intentions never ceased to loom over you. The old hag of the village even paid you a visit once. She was the last thing you expected when you turned around to the sound of the door of your home opening.

“I’ve heard a lot about you lately my dear. I trust you’ve been holding your faith in Mother Miranda close.” The hag gestures to your shrine that was tucked in the corner. Despite your disdain, you knew how to play the game. Was it the nicest one you could have made? Not by a longshot; but it served its purpose.

Almost like she was analyzing you the older woman walks slowly up to you. “Your ability to heal shines bright. Do you covet that gift?” You could tell where she was going with this. There was no such thing as someone creating their own success. “I am only a conduit of Mother Miranda’s blessing. I gratefully collect from the land she graced us with and help the village to assist in her vision.”

The words were masked in a fake softness. On the inside, you wanted to tell her that Mother Miranda only brought death to the village she supposedly protected. Of course, you weren’t brain-dead enough to even mutter those words alone. As much as you wanted to lash out you shifted the energy to other outlets. The smile that spread across the old hag’s face at your answer gave you chills to this day.

Despite her devotion to Mother Miranda, Elena is a smart enough girl to see the difference between fact and fiction. “Ah, I see. I’ll make sure to be a little quieter next time. Be careful talking with me, Elena. You don’t want to be my next blood sacrifice.” Your heart warms at the laugh that racks her body.

Looking up you notice that you’ve reached the gates that lead into the area of the altar. “Tell your father that I miss him, but wish not to see him anytime soon.” You tense slightly when you’re enveloped in a tight hug. When Elena pulls back you smooth out your clothes. “I will!” You watch the girl for a moment as she heads off. She was too nice for her own good.

It takes your whole-body weight to push the gate open. You’re greeted with a large caravan and an even larger man as you round the corner. “How lovely to see you, my dear! I trust that business is going well?” A genuine smile is sent your way. Happiness, or jolliness rather, was a rare thing to come by. It felt nice to be on the receiving end of it.

“Too well for my liking. It seems as the days drift by people are becoming more stupid or careless or both.” Extending your hand, you pass The Duke your list. He scans the paper before tucking it in his breast pocket. Some items you could purchase today, but others he would need to purposely seek out for you. “I would injure myself frequently as well if it meant a beautiful woman would be taking care of me.” You laugh at The Duke’s friendly teasing. Strangely the large man was the most normal person you interact with. He always had a friendly smile, great jokes, and even better merchandise. No wonder he was such a great salesman.

“Oh, hush. I bet you have a harem of women from all over the world Duke.” Two bags full of the items you requested are placed in front of you. You note how fast and efficient The Duke always is. It would have freaked you out if you paid too much attention to it.

“Are you trying to flatter your way to a discount?” Double-checking your lei, you hand the merchant the pouch they sit in. “If only it was ever that easy.” That earns a laugh from him. “I shall acquire the additional items you requested by the end of the week. I hope that is satisfactory.” The timing was perfect. You always made sure to ask for certain items when they run low and not when they run out. It was too risky to gamble about.

In a rare gesture, you smile at the man. “Of course. I don’t know what I would do without you.” When you turn to head back from where you came from a small cough catches your attention. “Do stay safe my dear. Wolves like to wear wool this time of year.” Without another word, you make haste back home.

You considered The Duke’s words carefully. What he told you always hinted at something deeper. Someone had it out for you, that was apparent enough. Figuring out who was the difficult part. Unfortunately, you had ruffled quite a few feathers over time. In your “line of work,” you interacted with the entire village.

You were still grateful for The Duke’s concern though. At this point, the two of you had a good understanding of the other. It was great to have someone who watched your back. Everyone was out for themselves, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that.

Halfway back home the load in your arm starts to wear on you. This was a workout in itself. When you try to juggle both bags while unlocking your door, one slips out of your arm. You watch in horror as it falls to the ground. Before it can hit the mud two hands swoop in to catch it just in time.

Looking up you go to thank the person over and over until you see who it is. Anton is standing in front of you with the cockiest grin you’ve seen on him yet. If only you had the courage to just smack it clean off. “Looks like I’m your knight in shining armor.”

Your mouth makes a thin line in a small attempt at a smile, “Looks so.” Of all people why did he have to be the one milling around? You go to take the other bag from him, but he steps out of reach. “A fragile thing like yourself shouldn’t be carrying so much. That’s why you need a strong man to help you.” Strong man? That descriptor wasn’t accurate for Anton. Fat asshole with an even bigger superiority complex? Now that was more like it.

The poor excuse of a man had been trying to get with you for longer than you could remember. To be fair you were really the only eligible option. Thankfully for Elena, her father scared any creeps off. You didn’t have such a luxury.

Finally getting the door open, Anton follows you inside. Was there a giant sign over your head today that said, “please talk to me” that you didn’t know about? When he stands next to you to put your bag down the pungent stench of alcohol wafts toward you. Anton was a notorious drunk.

“I’m surprised your head isn’t shoved inside an outhouse at this time.” To your dismay, Anton laughs at your comment that was meant to be a dig. One of his hands comes to rest on the table so he can lean closer to you. “Aren’t you going to show your gratitude?”

Nerves start to consume you. “T-thank you for being useful for once.” Anton narrows his eyes at you. He normally wasn’t this pushy, but he wasn’t drunk enough yet to be aggressive. “I think you can do better than that.” You try to think fast. As he goes to move closer you quickly pull out a piece of candy and hold it in front of his face. He is taken by surprise but accepts it anyway. “Playing hard to get? We’ll see how that goes next time.” His words come out more threatening than playful.

Before he leaves Anton takes ahold of your hand that still sat in the air. He kisses the back of it swiftly enough so you can’t move out of the way. You try your best to suppress a grimace. Seemingly satisfied with himself, Anton sees his way out.

Right when the door closes you practically rip open the new bottle of disinfectant you bought and lather your hand in it. That man had to have SOME kind of disease; you were sure of it.

After a few minutes, you finally can collect yourself. Although that was by far not the worst thing that has ever happened to you, the look in his eyes always made your stomach churn in the worst way imaginable. You pray that someday he finally drinks himself into the grave.

Shaking your head, you start to put away everything you bought. Something at the bottom of the bag catches your eye. Pulling the item out you smile. It was a new book. The Duke had given you a novel titled “Pride and Prejudice.” Glancing over the contents you see that it’s a romance novel. Your collection was large, but you had very few of those. They tended to get you too hot and bothered. Even so, you decide to read it tonight. You had to thank The Duke the next time you saw him.

Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

-

It’s mid-evening by the time you make it deep into the woods. Your last “errand” of the day was to gather herbs and plant life you had run low of. Although your visits to the town merchant were frequent, similar could not be said about venturing away from the village. Distant howls were all you needed to have you stay away for as long as possible.

Alas, some things were too necessary for your practice for you to go even a day without. You made sure to grip your knife tightly in your hand. It was small, but it was also very sharp.

Scanning the ground, you notice a growth of what your books called, “Anethum graveolens”. It was commonly just called dill though; that first word was too much of a mouthful. The plant was one of your favorites. You often boiled the dill seeds to treat stomach aches. The tea it created was quite nice; it had a flavor similar to citrus with slightly earthy undertones. Even the stems of the dill could be used to treat kidney and heart diseases. Studying and collecting plants were the only thing to bring you excitement nowadays, but you were content with that.

You set your cloth-lined basket on the ground and bend over to cut off pieces of the dill. To make sure the plants keep growing you only take what you need and nothing more. Lost in your task you hum aimlessly. The song was an old Romanian lullaby your grandmother would sing to you every night before bed. It was a soft melody that helped distract you from the world around you.

It seems as though you get too distracted because the interruption of another voice almost makes you scream in surprise.

“Well, well. Look at what we have here. You look like your straight out of a fable, doll.” The hair on the back of your neck stands up. That voice was unmistakable. Nothing good ever came to anyway who encountered Lord Heisenberg. At least that’s what you had always been told.

An elder of the village once told you to be cautious, because the Lord and his domineering sister captured, “pretty little things like you.” That warning feels all too real when your knife is pulled from your hand by an invisible force and thrown in the basket beside you.

Despite your nerves, you straighten up and turn towards the man. “Were you never taught that it’s not polite to stare OR sneak up on women, especially in the woods of all places.” You had the same tone you saved for scolding the children of the village.

A surprised laugh leaves Lord Heisenberg. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t a sight to behold. He lifted a leather-clad finger to wipe a stray tear that fell from under his dark shades. Defined lines and veins protruded from his skin that trailed underneath his many layers. Heisenberg’s hammer was slung on top of his shoulders, the metal items around his neck shaking slightly. You couldn’t help but tighten your thighs together.

Heisenberg pulls himself together after a full minute. “Spunky and a nice ass? What a pleasant surprise. Do you always collect flowers like that?” This is the one time you wished you had worn that damned skirt. Your face heats with a mix of arousal and anger. “I’ll have you know that I’m not just collecting flowers. I’m an experienced healer who is foraging. Not that it’s any of your business anyway.”

When he laughs again you catch a glint of canines that were much larger than the average man. At that moment you’re reminded of have dangerous he is. “You’ve got fight. Not many people have the balls to talk back. Well, and live afterward that is.”

Why couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut?

When Lord Heisenberg advances you step back. Leaves crunch under your feet at each backward step you take. Before you know it your backed up into the tree behind you. Sharp bark bites into your back, but you don’t dare to move even an inch.

Heisenberg moves his hammer off his shoulders. Instead of smashing your head in, he merely tosses the giant creation of metal beside you. “You’re lucky I was the one to find you. Would have been a shame if a Lycan tore into that pretty body of yours.” In an instant, he is invading your personal space. His hand comes up to easily pull the knot of string holding your cloak up.

When it falls to rest on top of the leaves below your feet, Heisenberg touches the curve of your waist. The Lord smelled of heavy tobacco and metal. It should have turned you off, but the masculine scent only added to your attraction. Logic screamed at you to get away, but your body shuttered in anticipation.

He seems to mistake your reaction for fear. “No, ‘I’m so sorry my dear Lord Heisenberg?’ or ‘I shall pray to Mother Miranda for your forgiveness my Lord?’” Pure disdain is laced in his questions. It was clear that he loathed the brainwashed fools who spent their life worshipping the so-called God. You were raised to be better than that though.

“If you expect me to grovel at your knees, you’d be sorely mistaken. I don’t kneel for anyone; especially not false prophets.”

At your words, Heisenberg tears off his shades and throws them haphazardly near his hammer. Green eyes meet yours in a heated stare-off. “Is that so?” His gaze on you is so strong it makes you squirm. You’ll definitely come back to this memory when you’re alone in bed.

Lips descend on you to glide against your jaw. You try your best to suppress your quickening breaths. The swell of your breasts doesn’t go unnoticed, however. “Oh, I like you, little healer.” He only breaks away from you to assess your body.

It was no mistake the type of state you were in. Your pupils were blown wide, face flushed, thighs clenched, and chest heaving. Despite all the sanity still left in your brain, you wanted him.

“Where have you been hiding? You’re clearly local. I would remember you, especially dressed like this.” Heisenberg’s voice came out deeper than it did before.

Even though you were trembling you try to regain some confidence. “What are you trying to imply? If you’re trying to give me fashion advice…“ You make a show of looking over his outfit, “I don’t think you have the credentials to do so.”

Heisenberg puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Not a fan? I’m sure you’ll change your mind when you see what’s underneath.” You have to suppress a gasp when you trail down to where he motioned. A large bulge was straining against the front of his pants. Any snarky remarks that appear in your head melt out of your mind. “Cat got your tongue doll?” More like a wolf got your tongue. At this point, a Lycan would be more merciful than him. The look in your eyes must have said enough because he grins wide and proud.

You watch as Heisenberg uses his teeth to slide off one of his gloves. Just that image alone causes a new wave of heat to travel through you. You felt almost embarrassed. When was the last time you even had sex? You were propositioned many times, but you prided yourself in having standards. The rugged and primal nature of Lord Heisenberg was stirring something deep inside you that you thought didn’t even exist anymore.

Calloused fingers trail up your thigh. Without having to be asked you spread your legs for him. Heisenberg slides across your clothed slit. Even with little to no contact you were already soaked. Something that can only be compared to a growl comes from the man. “Holy shit. Today must be my lucky fucking day. Are you always this wet? I could slip into you right now.” The vulgarity of his words makes you blush. There was no way you were going to answer his question though. The shame running through you was already bad enough.

Heisenberg grabs your hand and moves it to the hem of your dress. Getting the message, you pull the fabric until you’re in full view of his greedy eyes. You had to be bright red by this point. Without another word, Heisenberg slides your panties aside before pushing a digit inside of you.

A grunt comes from the Lord at how tightly you wrap around him. “I guess you don’t dislike me that much, huh?” You moan in response when he starts pumping his finger. Fabric crumples in your white-knuckled grip as you revel in the foreign feeling.

Your lack of a filter has gotten you into many situations, but none like this. Due to years of abstaining from sex, the small friction is enough to make you pant. Before you’ve fully adjusted another digit slips inside you at the same time Heisenberg’s thumb brushes against your sensitive clit. Incoherent moans are all you can manage. That mixed with the sounds of your wetness coating his fingers is beyond obscene.

Heisenberg buries his face in your neck as he fucks you. His fingers were much thicker than your own. They gave you a sharp burn that quickly melted into pure pleasure. Not minding your surroundings, you cry out when he hits the most sensitive spot inside you. In your haze, you reach a hand down to palm his erection. You were so close it almost hurt. The second your walls start to quiver around Heisenberg he stops.

A curse leaves him before he pulls out of your slick sex. Before you can protest wet kisses are trailed along your neck. “If you’re going to cum it’s going to be on my cock.” You whimper when sharp teeth graze your skin. Heisenberg’s words gust out through warm breath, “Hop on.”

Not waiting for you to respond Heisenberg pulls you up and you instinctually wrap your legs around him. Your hands scramble to his shoulders for some type of leverage. Rough lips crash onto your own as you’re slammed against the bark.

Heisenberg’s hips trap you against the tree. Not that you planned on going anywhere. It had been so long since you let yourself indulge in your desire. You reason with yourself that with all the hard work you do for the village you deserve this.

You gasp when Heisenberg grinds into you so hard you can practically feel his full length. This gives him the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth. Each slide of his tongue made it feel like he was trying to savor the taste of you. All the wanted attention was intoxicating.

His touch doesn’t leave you as you hear his belt and zipper come undone. Metal manipulation could be more convenient than you originally imagined. Leaning back Heisenberg pulls himself free from the confines of his clothing. You can’t help but moan at the size of his manhood.

Not only was he long, but so thick. It was bigger than his personality, which was already huge. Your conversation seemed to have riled him up because he was already rock-hard.

“Nothing to say doll?” A cocky grin is set on his face while he fists himself. Only one comment from earlier is thumping around your overheated brain. “I-I’m a fan.” Your comment comes out meek, but still gets the heated reaction you hoped for.

The sound of fabric being torn echoes around the woods. You only realize what just happened when a cool breeze hits your now-exposed sex. Heisenberg tore your panties off.

“H-hey! I liked those!” Any frustration quickly melts away when his cock glides in between your folds. “Not as much as you’re going to like this.”

He didn’t have a shameful bone in his body. The unshakeable confidence was doing something to you. Not even needing to use his hand he pushes just the tip inside.

You throw your head back and try to suck in any air you could get. Heisenberg was almost too big. As though he read your mind, Heisenberg brings his thumb back to your clit. You moan when he slips in more. A groan of his own tumbles out. “That’s it. You can take it.” Not long after that, his groin is flush against you. Something noticeably shifts in Heisenberg. “Hold on tight, doll.”

He pulls all the way out only to slam back in again. Heisenberg pounds into you with manic force. One of his hands moves up to cup the back of your head. This gives him better leverage to thrust into you without hitting your head against the harsh wood. Your nails dig into his jacket. Every high-pitched whine you give spurs him on even more. You were truly being fucked like an animal.

A familiar pleasure builds inside you. Each time he pushed deeper you felt more and more like you were going to burst. “I’m going to, oh fuck, cum Lord-“

“Heisenberg.” His name comes out deep and raw. The sound was like an untamed beast. “Call me fucking Heisenberg.” You answer by nodding your head. That doesn’t seem to be sufficient enough. The hand that’s holding the back of your head flexes tightly into your hair.

“Say it.” Heisenberg tugs your head forward. Warm breath swirls together as your lips sit mere inches apart. His hips still snapped into you at an unrelenting speed. “Say my name with that pretty little mouth of yours.”

This man was going to be the death of you. “Please, Heisenberg! I’m so close!” Fingers rub and press against your pulsing clit. Your breath catches at the same time your walls squeeze around Heisenberg. At that exact moment, you are enveloped in his body.

You could feel him almost tremble as he chased his high. A noise comes out of Heisenberg that for a second, scares you. Teeth meet your neck again. This time they lay their claim when sharp canines break through the skin. The pain made a sinful concoction with the overwhelming pleasure. You tighten your arms around his shoulders when your orgasm finally hits.

Each wave of your release is euphoric. Any stress that sat on your shoulders was lifted even if it was just for a moment. This felt too good. He felt too good.

Moans and cries of Heisenberg’s name fill the woods. Cawing birds and howls can be heard in the distance. Heisenberg’s nails dig into the flesh of your hips. Loud groans vibrate your neck as warmth spreads in your groin. Even through the process of coming down from your orgasm, he continues to rock into you.

Your brain feels like pliable mush. Never did you ever imagine that sex could be like this. Reality washes back over you when you feel Heisenberg pull out of you. Coldness washes over you at the loss. Metal clatters as he tucks himself back in his pants. When he leans back you slide your legs off his hips, only to almost crumple to the ground. Strong hands grab your waist to steady you.

Well. There goes your ability to move for the rest of the week.

You narrow your eyes when Heisenberg laughs. “Careful now little healer. We don’t need you messing yourself up anymore now do we?” His knuckles move to ghost against the dark bruise that is already forming on your neck. Thankfully you had the right ingredients to fix that problem. The last thing you need is to give more fuel to the rumor fire.

Using the tree behind you as support, you stand straight. Wetness soaks down to your inner thighs. When you scan the ground for your undergarment a cough makes you look up. Heisenberg puffs away at a cigar in one hand while he dangles your panties in between his fingers. “Looking for this?”

“Yes.” No humor is evident in your tone. The thought of walking home with no barrier makes a chill run down your spine. That is far from your definition of a nice stroll. Before you can go to snatch it from him, Heisenberg shoves the material in the pocket of his coat.

Pervert.

“Lighten up little healer. They were ripped. Wouldn’t have done you much good either way.” To your dismay, he seemed to enjoy the nickname he picked out for you. At least it was way more friendly than the name the other villagers call you.

You mentally curse at yourself that simply watching him smoke and taunt you was making you earn a warm flush again. How much more pathetic could you get? Reaching down you smooth out your dress and pick up your cloak with a shaky hand.

“What am I supposed to do now? I have a long walk back.” Okay, maybe it would be more of a hobble than a walk. Heisenberg’s small smirk exposes that he is likely thinking the same thing. To all things good and holy left in this world you swore you would get him back somehow.

“Don’t worry that pretty head of yours. Let’s just say that my… scent will keep any stragglers away from you.” You blink dumbly at his response. Stragglers? Gears slowly turn in your head as your brain works its way out of its fucked-out state. Oh. He must mean the Lycans that tend to wander close to the village.

That wasn’t what you were asking, but the concept intrigues you. His scent on you is all you need to keep them at bay? The thought is oddly comforting.

You sit in silence for a moment not knowing what to say. Thank you for the best sex of my life see you around? You didn’t know the protocol for this kind of stuff. Especially concerning the most powerful man in the entire village.

Staying against the tree you watch as Heisenberg puts his shades back on. His hammer levitates back to its original place on his shoulder. Smoke billows from him while he regards you one last time. “That was fun. I’ll leave you to go back to your… what was it?” He gestures his hand as if he was trying to pluck the answer from the air. “Foraging! That’s right. Foraging. Till we meet again, little healer.”

At the end of his sentence, he gives a comical bow before turning around. And just like that, he left from whence he came. Your mind grapples to process what the fuck just happened. One minute you were fangirling over some dill you found and the next you were being pounded into a tree by Lord Heisenberg. Just when you thought your life couldn’t get any crazier.

A small part of you wished it all didn’t happen so quickly. You knew it was silly, but you would have liked for him to stay with you longer. Soreness flares in your body when you bend down to grab your discarded items. You fasten your cloak around your neck and rest your basket in the crook of your arm. Sighing you smooth a hand over your face.

You couldn’t deny that you loved every second of what he did to you. It irked you to admit that you were already craving more. Not even bothering to fix your hair, you pull the hood of your cloak over your head. You did not look forward to the walk you had ahead of you.

By the time you made it to the village, the sun was starting to go down. With a sore neck and shaky legs, you manage to only stumble a couple of times on your way back home. You even managed to harvest a couple more plants along the path. Thankfully, whatever real God was out there made sure that no one decided to come up to you again as you approached your home.

Placing your basket on the supplies counter you sigh. The amount you were able to forage was sufficient, but not as much as you would have hoped for. It wasn’t like it was entirely your fault though. If Heisenberg hadn’t introduced himself with his dick, you could have collected more.

A new sense of self-loathing washes over you. In retrospect you let yourself get fucked like a whore by a man you quite literally only met seconds prior. Putting your face in your hand you let yourself laugh. At least it was good sex.

When you shift your body, you’re reminded of the sticky sensation between your legs. Thankfully, you had a showerhead that was controlled by a pull-down handle. It was often used to quickly rinse off people with more severe injuries. Or it was used for times like now when bathing outside felt less than savory.

Grabbing an old towel, you are more than happy to strip off your clothing. Once you are finished washing up you tend to the bruising, soreness, and light scratches. The light pangs of pain are a teasing reminder of the pleasure that outweighed it. If someone stumbled on you like this, they would think you got into a fight.

Not wanting to dwell on your afternoon, you lock yourself in your room and slip on a night dress. Although it wasn’t too late for you to be working, you couldn’t be bothered. Exhaustion had finally sunk its claws into you.

“Pride and Prejudice” is nestled in your hands as you climb into bed. You can’t help but groan when your soar body makes contact with the sheets. No medicine you owned could do anything about that.

Sinking further into your bed, you let yourself relax. The quiet moments before going to sleep were your favorite. That was prime reading time. The oil lamp on your nightstand kept you company as you read the new book.

On more than one occasion you find your thoughts drifting from the page to somewhere else; Mr. Darcy morphed into Heisenberg and Elizabeth Bennet into you. It wasn’t a crime to let yourself drift into fantasy land. Not long after that your body finally succumbs to sleep. The book lays forgotten on your lap as light snores slip past your lips.

Something flutters nearby. The sound makes you slightly shift, but you were too deep in your sleep to be alerted. Unbeknownst to you, a single crow sits just outside your window. Watching.

Any and all interactions are greatly appreciated.

a/n: The dill thing is a real fact by the way. I did light research on Romanian plants used for medicine just for this lol. It was an interesting read.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Monster Monday

What would Lycan!Steve making the first move on Barista!Reader look like?

Would he be all suave about it or more assertive to show her she’s already his?

“I know you just clocked out but before you go, there’s a gorgeous Lycan who says he knows you.” Dannah had appeared from the door that separated the backroom from the front of the coffee shop, her nametag purposely placed upside down. “I mean he is-“

“Steve?” Your eyebrows had become furrowed and you rose from the milk crate you were sitting on, shuffling slowly toward the door to peer through the glass. “What’s he doing here?”

“Here for you,” Dannah had crossed her arms over her chest, then looked you over scrutinizingly. “God, these uniforms are ugly.”

“I wasn’t expecting him here.” You balled your apron up in your hands idly, studying Steve from a distance while your mind had begun racing. “I met him once, I applied for this thing…where some companies will invest in a startup business. I wanted to own my coffee shop, make my own rules.”

“Don’t make him wait!” Dannah placed her hands on your shoulders and started to push you through the door back out to the front, using your continued state of shock to her advantage. “Found her!”

“Thanks,” Steve had cast his eyes upon you, and instead of being able to hold his gaze, you had studied him.

you had first centred your attention on a pair of sunglasses resting on the neckline of his white cotton shirt, the material unfairly taught across his chest and biceps. Unlike the first time you had met him, he had traded in the business attire for a pair of jeans and a leather jacket that had looked irrevocably sexy on the Lycan. Steve Rogers was a beautiful man, somehow made even more so by the tug of a smirk on his plump lips and the sheer size of the massive beast.

“Thank you for the generous tip,” Dannah smirked at you in passing, ushering you out from behind the counter to stand before the register.

“What are you doing here?” You were surprised, to say the least, the feeling furthered by the crazed reaction your body had to the man and his voice.

“I’m here to see you. I was hoping we could talk since you’re off work.” Steve had slid a plastic cup toward you, one of your favourite iced comfort drinks made to your exact specifications. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“We do?” You reached for the cup with your name on it, still speculating why he was here.

“Course we do, Y/N.” Steve had rested his hand upon your bicep, gently leading you out of the way so another customer could wait at the end of the counter, and then he had shifted the placement of his hand from your arm to the small of your back. “We need to discuss your plans for your coffee shop and a courtship.”

“I’m sorry?” You whipped your head in his direction, your eyes growing in size as every word had begun to settle into your flesh. “Courtship?”

“You and I matched.” Steve held the door open for you to step through, managing to keep one hand on you as you passed through. “Lycans know their mate almost instantly.”

“Steve I-“ You fought for the words, you had fought for any ground to stand on. “A courtship?”

“How about we go have some dinner and we can talk about it?” Steve suggested, steering you toward his vehicle. “We’ll discuss the courtship and your new business.”

“I got approved?” Your eyebrows had become knit again, confused and dazed.

“I took care of it personally, you have no limits. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”