#echoes and oddities

[tseaghosts]

ms celia be out here

[gh0stsea]

moon 😔

[lucysarah-c]

Levi had always been reserved, specially about his personal life. To anyone, about anything.

Three subtle knocks echoed at the door, rousing Levi from his bed. He groaned uneasily, burying his face deeper into the darkness as if seeking refuge from any source of light.

A few more insistent knocks followed, still maintaining their subtlety. Grumbling under his breath, Levi sat up, his right hand fumbling along the floor beside the bed. Eyes closed, he searched in the darkness for his discarded clothes.

Quick, bare footsteps sounded against the wooden floorboards as he hurriedly dressed, letting his white uniform pants hang loosely around his hips.

"Coming, coming," he muttered softly as he reached for the doorknob.

He didn't bother to button up his clothes as he cracked the door open slightly. With tired eyes, he frowned at the person on the other side, his dark hair disheveled and unkempt.

"Levi?" Erwin's voice came in a hushed tone. "Sorry… were you asleep?"

The Captain knew explanations were too complicated and unnecessary. "No," he spat out. Recognizing Erwin as the one knocking, he fully opened the door.

"Are you sure? If you were asleep, I can come back tomorrow morning first thing," Erwin persisted, aware of how rare it was.

"What do you need?"

"I have some reports that need your signature before I send them out as soon as possible."

Before Erwin could say anything more, Levi nodded, gesturing for him to come in. As Erwin stepped inside, he mentally noted the oddities: Levi's disheveled appearance, his whispered voice despite few other higher-ups being awake in the facility at that hour, and how Levi subtly closed the door leading from his office to the bedroom.

Levi settled into his office chair and extended his hand for the papers, which Erwin quickly handed over. "I can come back tomorrow before your training session with your squad."

Levi shook his head and got straight to business. It was late, around 2 am, but Erwin knew Levi was hardly ever asleep at that hour. Despite the locks of hair raised in disarray, his struggle to fully open his eyes, and his haphazard appearance, Erwin noticed how eager Levi was to complete the task quickly.

"That's regarding the letters we discussed at the meeting-"

"Yeah," Levi interjected, completely disinterested in whatever he was signing, eager to be done with it.

Erwin tried not to dwell on it, but he sensed that something was amiss. Suddenly, a sound pierced the silence of the night. Both men tensed as the noise of a flushing toilet echoed through the room. Levi's color drained from his face as Erwin turned around, confused.

The bathroom door opened, revealing you, still half-asleep, clad in an grey shirt and bare legs adorned with bites and hickeys. Scratching your tangled hair, you peered out with closed eyes.

"Lev? What are you doing up? Come back to bed," you mumbled.

Upon noticing the silence, your eyes snapped open, your cheeks flushing as you instinctively tugged the shirt closer to cover yourself. Levi buried his face in his hands as Erwin stifled a chuckle.

"Sorry," you muttered before shutting the door.

Levi groaned, thrusting the completed pile of papers toward Erwin. "Your damn papers."

Erwin collected them with a subtle chuckle. "Told you I could come back in the morning."

-

"Hey, shorty. You think we can discuss the maps tonight-"

"Levi is occupied at night now, Hange," Erwin interjected, addressing the slightly confused Squad Leader. "Very occupied. Hands full."

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[viceroywrites]

deja vu - part 1

i decided to make a full-fledged multi-chapter fic out of this idea that i posted a few days ago with a cyoa ending potentially

thanks so much to everyone who showed so much love for it and hope you enjoy this series!

this is my first time writing for gravity falls so i hope to do it justice!

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

original fic idea | part two

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii /

@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby

He wasn’t in bed.

You woke up in the middle of the night to find the space beside you empty, the blankets cool to touch, indicating that a warm body had not even slipped into the sheets. Begrudgingly, you slip out of the warm comfort of your bed to search for your lover.

Your bare feet pad against the wood floorboards, creaking with each step you take. Your fingers balancing a candle that you used to illuminate the way, too lazy to try and turn on the lights. 

You descend down to the basement, pushing open the metal door that reveals an intricate lab full of oddities and gadgets with a triangle shaped portal looming just behind the glass window. You let out a yawn, approaching the figure that had his back turned towards you. His six-fingers spin the pen in his hand effortlessly as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand.

Your soft yet groggy voice calls out as you place your hand on his shoulder, “Ford, come to bed. Your research will be here in the morning.”

Stanford jumps at your sudden touch before relaxing when he hears the sound of your voice. He puts his pen down, placing his hand over yours with his thumb running soothingly over the back of your hand, “I’ll be there soon, just head back upstairs. I just need to finish this last equation that's been driving me mad the whole day.”

“Stanford…” You say with an edge to your voice, knowing that he could easily stay up the rest of the night working tirelessly on this portal that he had been working on for the past few months.

“Alright… I concede. You win this round, my dear.” Ford sighs, turning to face you finally with a tired smile. He gets up from his seat, pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head before following you up the stairs but not before looking back at the portal.

-

You had the dream again.

It always starts the same. Walking down a staircase, the floorboards creaked with each step you took. Your eyelids feel heavy almost as if you’re resisting the urge to fall asleep. Your feet carrying you down to a basement. The warm flames of the candle you hold illuminating the way.

Your fingertips push the cool metal frame of the door to reveal a figure sitting in front of a desk, facing away from you. Your hand reaches out to touch their shoulder and as they turn around to reveal their face to you, you awaken.

Your eyes open abruptly, staring at the dark ceiling as your alarm echoes through the empty room. Slowly sitting up in bed, you instinctively reach across to turn off your alarm and turn on your lamp before your hand reaches to open the drawer of your bedside table, feeling around for something. Your fingertips brush against leather and wrap around the item, pulling it out to reveal a journal.

These dreams happened almost every night over the years. It had gotten to a point where you started logging them, just trying to find any pattern or meaning behind them.

You turn to the page labeled ‘The Basement’ - adding another tally mark in the margins that you used to keep track of the frequency of each dream. You close your eyes, trying to conjure up any distinguishable features from this mystery person but nothing new arises. 

Sighing, you shut the leather-bound journal, putting it to the side.

Now was not the time to be worrying about your cryptic dreams, you were supposed to be getting ready for the trip you had been planning for the past few months. 

A road trip through the Pacific Northwest, starting in Northern California and making your way up to Seattle.

You hop out of bed to start getting ready for your journey ahead. After completing your morning routine and slipping on some comfortable clothing for the long drive, you make your way to the kitchen, grabbing the map that was stuck to the fridge with a magnet from your alma mater, Backupsmore. 

Having already packed your bags into the car the night before, your feet make a beeline out the door, wanting to hit the road before sunrise to give you enough time to hit the places you wanted to visit on the way up to your final destination for the day, Portland. 

Unraveling the map in your lap, your eyes scan over it, reviewing over the route you had planned out today. Your gaze lingered on one particular spot you had circled closer to Portland that was unlike any of the stops you had chosen.

Gravity Falls.

You couldn’t explain what drew you in to choose this town to stop in out of all the surrounding towns near Portland. You knew that you had an old friend, Fiddleford, who had moved out to this area to do research. You had even visited him once during his time out there. However, you hadn’t heard from Fiddleford in years, correspondence seemingly dropping off as he stopped answering your calls and your letters always ended up returning to you.

Trying to push aside thoughts of your lost connection, you put your car in reverse, pulling out of your parking spot and heading out onto the open road. The winding roads take you through the lush forests that enveloped the region. As each hour passed, you could see the sun slowly starting to make its way up the horizon and decided to stop to watch the sunrise at Redwood National Park. 

After the brief stop that you used to stretch your legs and grab a cup of coffee, you make your way back on the road. Your original plan was to stop at almost every National Park on the way up to Oregon but after hitting a pocket of traffic that put you behind a whole hour, you decide to skip a few stops and make your way directly to the town of Gravity Falls, figuring it would be your last stop with the remaining amount of daylight you had left.

Unfortunately, you had hit another bump in the road, pretty much derailing the first day of your methodically planned out trip.

Your car had suddenly stopped in the middle of the forest about five miles out from the town.

Cursing under your breath, you step out to assess the cause of your delay. Your hands pop open the hood of your car, breathing a slight sigh of relief when you don’t see any steam or smoke. Figuring that the most likely cause is the battery dying on you, you pull out your phone, trying to look up the nearest towing company to hopefully bring you into town to get it looked at.

As you’re waiting for the screen to load due to the poor signal out in this forested area, a gruff voice calls out, asking if you need a hand.

You look up to see a red convertible with the phrase ‘El Diablo’ etched on the side on the other side of the road. Its owner, a man with gray hair, glasses and a stubbled yet chiseled jawline, wearing a black tank, a shiny medallion that sat on his exposed graying chest hairs, and a brown leather jacket, stares back at you, one hand on the steering wheel while his arm dangles lazily outside of the rolled down window.

You pause, taken aback as something about his features seems… familiar. You quickly snap out of your stupor, realizing you’ve just been standing there in silence.

"Uhm�� yeah if you have jumper cables, I just need to get my car running to get to the next town and hopefully get a replacement battery,” You reply, figuring this option would be way cheaper than hiring a whole tow truck.

"Of course, I have jumper cables, toots - look at my car, you think I haven't been stranded out here myself." The stranger chuckles, making an effortless U-Turn with one hand before pulling his car close to yours. Your cheeks warm at the nickname given to you by this man you met literally seconds ago, This guy’s a total silver fox.

You step to the side to give him access to hook up the jumper cables after he fishes them out of his own trunk. You both stand in silence while he attaches the cables to your car before his deep voice cuts through, "So uh, what brings you out here? You just driving through?"

You almost chuckle at his awkward attempt to make small talk, "Sort of. I'm doing a whole road trip through the Pacific Northwest. I was gonna check out this town ahead, Gravity Falls, before I make my way up to Portland."

The older man blinks, expecting you to just be passing through the town at this time of a day. Normally, tourists only stop into town in the early hours of the day on their own journeys up north. His lips spread into a grin, pulling out a business card from his leather jacket. "Well, if you're stopping by, you gotta check out the Mystery Shack! One stop shop for mysterious oddities!"

You take the business card with a giant question mark on the front. He retreats back to his car, turning on his engine before nodding over at you as a signal for you to start up your own engine. You slip back into the car, slipping the card into your pocket before turning on the ignition. You breathe a sigh of relief as your car stutters back to life. Glancing up, you see him grinning back at you before the two of you step out of your respective vehicles.

“Thanks again for your help… sorry, I didn’t catch your name. I’m Y/N.” You say, extending your hand out in gratitude. The silver fox’s large hand envelops yours, shaking your hand firmly, “Stan Pines, nice to meet ya. It’s no problem, wouldn’t want to leave a lady like yourself stranded in the middle of the woods.”

“Do you say that to all the ladies that end up stranded in the woods?” You can’t help but tease, earning a hearty chuckle from Stan. “Well, let’s just say that’s not a common occurrence out here. So you thinkin’ about stopping by the Mystery Shack?”

You pause, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you thumb the edge of the business card Stan had given you. On one hand, you should probably be heading back on the road to make it to Portland and this Mystery Shack sounded like a tourist trap. On the other hand, the sun was starting to set and you weren’t keen on driving through the forest in the dark. Maybe it would be best if you stayed the night in this quaint town and start again the next morning. As you look up at Stan, you make your decision, deciding to appease the man who helped you so graciously.

You also had to admit you found him quite charming and curiosity got the better of you.

“Sure, lead the way.” You say with a casual shrug. Stan grins, “I’ll make sure you get a personal tour of the Mystery Shack. No need to worry about other tourists.” Your eyebrow raises in amusement before slipping into your car, “What, you know the owner?” You blink at the smirk that spreads across Stan’s lips, “Sweetheart, you’re looking at the former owner, Mr. Mystery himself.”

You bite back a giggle, “No wonder you were laying it on thick, just trying to get more tourists to visit, huh?” Stan rolls his eyes mirthfully “Hey, I was trying to lend a helping hand… though I have a good sales pitch, don’t I?” He grins, shooting finger guns towards you with a wink.

This’ll be interesting. You think to yourself as you follow behind Stan in your car, pulling into the empty lot of the Mystery Shack. You snort, seeing how the S dangles off the side spelling out Mystery Hack, before pointing it out to Stan as he exits his car. His features grimace as he grumbles out, “I noticed” before beckoning you to follow him, twirling his keys on his index finger.

Stan proceeded to give you a detailed tour of the Mystery Shack, spinning elaborate tales surrounding the variety of taxidermy animals that he had mismatched together. Despite the absurdity of it all, you can’t help but get sucked into his tales, seeing the clear passion and excitement he had for this place. You burst out into laughter at the sight of the Sascrotch to which Stan beamed at, “Good one, right? Probably one of the highlights of the Mystery Shack.”

You weaved your way through the shack, though there were certain sections of it that looked oddly familiar. Almost like you had walked down these hallways before. A wave of deja vu hit you as you walked through the doorway into the gift shop. “Usually this is the part where I try to sell people on an overpriced souvenir but I have a feeling that the whole schtick isn’t gonna work on you, is it?” Stan admits.

“Probably not but I’ll take a look around and see if there’s anything that catches my eye.” You chuckle, making your way around the space as your eyes scan the various trinkets. Your fingertips run across the mugs with question marks painted on them. You decide to use this opportunity to make small talk as you mill around the gift shop while Stan leans back against the counter, “So, you said you’re the former owner? Who owns it now?”

“One of my former employees, Soos. Kid’s been working for me since he was… well a kid. Only person with as much passion as me about this place.” Stan says, glancing over at the Employee of the Month picture that still hung behind the counter that showed a younger Soos. “What made you step down as owner?” You hum, thumbing through the t-shirt rack. 

Stan smiles fondly, “Me and my twin brother actually just got back from traveling, we’re only in town for the summer. It was always our dream to travel the world together by boat, and we finally got to make that happen.” You look up, smiling at how warmly he spoke of his brother. Stan catches you staring and crosses his arms defensively, “What?”

“Nothing,” You say, shaking your head before thumbing through the assortment of keychains and stickers that were displayed. “So twin brother, huh? What’s he like?”

“You’re sure asking a lot of questions… not sure if I should be flattered but it feels like I’m being interrogated by a government official.” Stan comments with a grin. You pause with dramatic effect before looking up and admitting, “Well technically, I do work for the government.”

Stan freezes, his stance becoming defensive as he looks you up and down, “Oh shit, really? Man, these cover-ups are getting better and better but I swear I haven’t broken any laws… recently at least.” Your warm laughter fills the room, finding the look on his face priceless, “Relax, I work for the National Parks.” Stan’s posture relaxes at the realization and he rolls his eyes, “Alright, you got me good. So what do you do? Are you like a park ranger or something?”

“No, I’m a geoscientist. I pretty much study rocks and fossils. Kinda boring day to day but sometimes I’ll come across a precious gemstone and keep it for myself… even though we’re not supposed to take anything off a dig site.” You admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Using the government’s resources to your own advantage? I like the way you think.” Stan chuckles.

You pick out a magnet to add to your fridge when you return as a reminder of your side quest at the Mystery Shack. Stan rings you up though you notice a significant markdown in the original price after he insists on giving you the employee discount. As you walk out of the gift shop outside, you round the corner back to your car. 

Little did you know that you would run into the man that you once loved as someone with a long tan trench coat was outside fiddling with a device with his back turned to you. Stan elbows you in the arm to catch your attention, "That's my poindexter brother that I mentioned, Ford. He's always working on some geeky invention."

"You know I can hear you, Stanley?" Ford sighs, turning around to face you two.

Time slows down as he meets your eyes, memories flooding back to him before landing on the last memory he had of you - your back turning away from him, your hand slipping through his fingers after he chose to continue with his research despite your pleas.

He freezes, seeing the woman that left him all those years ago, "Y/N?" He calls out to you.

You blink, staring back at this man that you had never met before calling out your name.

Stan is just as confused as you are, looking between the two of you. 

You tilt your head in confusion, “Uhm… sorry, have we met before? How do you know my name?”

[harmeu]

GUILT

(HSR MEN X READER) (ANGST)

(GN!READER) 

Synopsis: You and Sunday were dating but then you overhear him talking to those who work with him about how you’re just a pawn for his games.

SUNDAY:

Soft footsteps echoed as you walked through the halls of where your beloved boyfriend Sunday lived. Though a feeling of unknown dread crawled onto you as if warning you of something soon happening.

Click. Click. Click.

Your eyes lit up as you heard your boyfriend speaking to those who worked under him and you couldn't help but eavesdrop. The curiosity of how he acted when he wasn’t around you dwelling in your mind.

“It’s simple. I’m using them. They are just one step closer for me to get closer to my goals.” Sunday said with a calm smile, hands gently tracing his desk looking down at the men who were talking to him.

You were confused.

What were they talking about?

“Sir..are you sure? Aren’t they attached?”

“My so-called significant other is definitely attached. Though that benefits me. Much. More. Easier. To manipulate.”

You paled.

He was using you.

Tears bubbled up in your eyes and you held your hand to your mouth to stifle any noises of sadness that were threatening to come out.

Hitching and turning on your shoe you make a dash for it unaware that Sunday caught a glimpse through the slit of the door open with his eyes. His wings twitched in surprise and soon lowered as a disgusting feeling of shame hit him.

It was an oddity for Sunday.

“Oh dear.” He murmured out making his way out to find you.

Synopsis: Aventurine and you dated but when he bets you in a game everything goes downhill.

AVENTURINE:

You catch your boyfriend, the renowned gambler betting as usual. You told him his hobby wasn't good. But as if that would stop him. Eventually you gave up and just let him do what he wanted despite worry filling you each time he pushed a chip forward with his iconic trademark smirk. 

“Babe..” You murmur out unease written all over your face.

“Oh! Hey darling~ this man just won’t seem to give up..even after I basically drained his savings. He’s penniless and now putting bets on things he doesn't even own!” Aventurine chuckled, holding his head amused.

“Maybe you should stop? It's getting intense, no.?” You worriedly whisper out.

“Oh no no no sweetheart. Once you go in. You can’t come out.”

“Huh?” You fluster.

“In gambling! What were you thinking of?” His smirk grew and became more toothly as you spluttered but it soon died down as Aventurine noticed that the man he was gambling with was slowly earning his chips back.

“You pull up a tough fight.” Aventurine spoke and you just knew he was going to pull an impulsive move. 

“Seems my chips have vanished. What a shame. Yet I do not intend to lose. I bet..my darling sweetheart right here.” 

You flinched at his words staring at him with a ‘did you really just say that’’ look making Aventurine smack back into reality.

“Oh..doll wait I didn’t mea-”

He got cut off by you walking off.

Ping! New message!

(AVENTURINE HAS SENT $1,000,000)

Synopsis: Dating Dr. Ratio was nice. Though he puts more time with other matters, neglecting you.

DR RATIO:

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend Veritas in a while because of him either studying, working, teaching others, or doing something other than hanging out with you. You're aware of his passion to join the Genius Society but he can work on that while hanging out with you too right?

You felt left out.

So you decided to make your way to his office excited to see him but also a bit nervous due to the thought of him brushing you away to work on something else.

You knocked.

“Come in.” You hear his British pompous voice making you crack a small smile not hearing it in a while.

“Veritas..” You open the door smiling but it broke as you saw him writing down something in his notebook not bothering to spare a glance at you.

“What is it? I’m quite busy.” He whispered out, still looking engrossed in his work.

“Do..you want to hang out? It’s been a while and I’ve been worried about you overworking yourself. And I miss seeing you.” You blush at your own words staring at him.

Veritas sighed, dropping his pen and rubbing his temples.

“Dear how many times must I have to tell you that I am busy?” Annoyance is apparent in his tone making your eyes droop in defeat.

“Oh. Sorry. I just wanted to ask..since it's been such a long time.” Another sigh left Veritas as he ran a hand through his hair and finally made eye contact with you.

“I’m doing work at the moment so please leave me to it.” He picked up his pen again taking a glance at you but his eyes widened as he saw your vulnerable expression of defeat. You nodded softly and shut the door leaving.

Veritas stared at the door, his heart clenching in what he just did. Guilt poured onto it.

“My lord.” He murmured holding his now aching head.

[k0yaz]

(I don't do requests often, so I read your rules like three times out of nervousness 😭)

Could you write an Il Capitano x fem!reader where the reader is forced to walk home by her family after a ball. While walking back, Capitano picks her up and offers to take the reader to where she lives. Maybe toss in some soft/kind Capitano?

Thank you so much, I hope this is an ok request!

pitch black.

Pairings: capitano x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, assy family members, written before natlan, so capitano might be slightly ooc, can be read as platonic or romantic, yum frostbite yay, ngl id cry myself to sleep if I was in snezhnaya bc I can’t handle cold weather, probably an iron deficiency, lazy writing at the end again AUUUUGHHHH, freakytano my glorious king, not proofread.

A/N: HIHIHIHI ALSO IM SORRY IF I MISREAD THE FAMILY THING BUTTTT I ACTUALLY WROTE ON A WEEKDAY YAY also guys should I do like a special for 1k cause my followers are eating rn ok but seriously thank u so much for all the support love yall!! 🕯️

Cold swishes of air circled the pitch black sky faintly illuminated by a star or two, ruffling the silky fluff of a heavy coat adorning your figure. You firmly tightened your grasp around the lapels of the large coat, fabric wrinkling and dragged between the clutches of your paling knuckles tinted a soft pink from Snezhnaya’s biting cold.

Hollow crunches of your footsteps simply rang aloud in your years as your father’s words piled up in your mind. They were merely harmless, yet the intent behind your family’s dismissal stung like a sharpened blade spearing into your chest. But of course, it wasn’t anything new. A gust of wind howled into the canal of your ear sharply, ringing the ill memory of your family spitting the venom laced words of ordering you to trudge home in the nation’s burrowing winter. They didn’t even bother to provide a coat or furnish your body in any way, simply shooing you off as if they were desperate to make you keep your distance from them.

You had been awkwardly situated next to them, the chatter making you shift uncomfortably in an off putting stance, similar to that of an upright statue. Their exasperating laughs bellowed throughout the ballroom obnoxiously, catching an occasional glance of a person or two eyeing them. If hunching your shoulders in embarrassment wasn’t enough, their attitude was more than enough for you to have a strong urge to pray for the Tsaritsa’s wrath to be bestowed upon them.

People had noticed your huddled stance, tracing the rim of your glass in circular motions in hopes to distract yourself from the growing oddity of your placement in the ball. And without hesitation, they would of course begin to approach you. Possibly out of pity? Perhaps even the goodness of their heart wanting to accompany the girl who wasn’t very engaged in the celebration. Each person would approach you, friendly smiles stretching their face as they’d attempt to greet you—only for it to be cut short by your parents’ attention snapping to the guest stood before you, slicing the conversation short as they’d beckon the person to come speak with them instead.

Tremors of disdain pooled inside of you upon seeing your family members so obviously attempt to shove out any possible chance of a trail of hopeful socialization paved on your direction. Your isolation only grew more and more frustrating as indistinct chatter bounced off the walls of the ball, your eyes following the sound of the echo trailing from the marble structure to the intricate chandelier and candles flickering. At this moment, you purely felt alone. Isolated from everything as you mentally stood still in a pitch black void, with drowned out voices clouding the lonesome darkness.

“(Name). I think it’s about time you headed home.” Your father rasped out, not even making eye contact with you as his gaze was locked onto the champagne bottle and glass snug between his hands. “The ball is over anyway. We’re only staying for extra drinks. Your mother and I will be out meeting some other relatives at the nearby restaurant.”

“Father, it’s too cold for me to walk back home. You know how-“

“Oh, (Name). You’ll be fine. I raised you to be an independent woman. You’ll find the way home just fine.”

Pushing past your father, your mother pokes her shoulder out as well, casting you a glance as she chimes in to the conversation.

“He’s right, dear. Go ahead and head home for the night. I trust you’ll fare just fine without us accompanying you home.”

“Mother, that’s not what I-“

“(Name). That’s enough. You should head home. End of discussion.”

You knew you couldn’t properly explain to them. They’d always toss you aside and swat off your remarks as such. You bit back your protest, swallowing as you scanned the ballroom for a spare coat anywhere. There were a few harbingers around, so a raggedy stray coat shouldn’t be too uncommon.

“Sorry. I’ll be heading home now.” You submitted under your breath, masking your mixed irritation dissolved into your tone. You only further grimaced slightly as your mother smiled and leaned over to place a faux affectionate kiss to your forehead. With one dismissive wave once more, her and your father turned their back to you to exit the ball, shouldering through the heavy spruce doors packed with people crowding them.

You blinked, fervent shivers making you tremble against each flake of snow that brushed along the exposed parts of your skin as you realized you had just stepped midway through. The searing cold made your head spin as you began to lose yourself, frostbite clouding your senses and enveloping the tips of your fingers slowly. No matter. You could make it home if you simply stopped spacing out and thinking about your shitty parents. Just then, a loud crunch resounded with the howling wind, heavy clanks of metal being heard in addition to the crunches.

The heavy thuds only seemed to become clearer as they grew closer and closer, a light drag of chains shuffling behind you as well. Your heart nearly pounded out of your chest in anticipation, a sense of apprehension overtaking you as you clutched the coat draped over you tighter in a pathetic attempt to shield yourself using the thick fabrics. The thuds came to a halt as your eyes slowly roamed over the man who halted before you. His figure loomed over you, as his towering frame was quite intimidating to the least.

The metal lining of his mask enshrouded his face in a sightless black, cloaking his face completely as it seemed like an empty void bore into the gap of his helmet. Streams of jet black hair along with that adorned along the cheekbone of his mask and down his shoulders, a few stray strands of his long hair edged along the sharp steel edges of his mask. On top of that. A thick white coat with black fluff was draped along his shoulders, the small fabric emblem in the corner pertaining to that of the Fatui. If he was wearing this coat, your best bet was he was definitely a Fatui harbinger. Likely a strong one at that.

Backing up slightly, your eyes wandered over the man’s figure as you stood neatly frozen in place, the wind swaying his streaming hair while the harbinger looked down upon you.

“Is something the matter, ma’am?”

His low voice cast the illusion of protruding through the thickened frozen air, a faint muffle present in his speech considering he had spoken through the hollow opening of his seemingly endless mask.

“I was just walking home..”

“You seemed to be troubled, though.”

You simply wanted to scoff, yet you only tilted your head away from the harbinger in shame. Had your family humiliated you this much to the point where a figure of such high status took pity on you?

Sucking in a breath, you slowly turned your head back towards him, his body frozen in place, and looking down at you like a great statue. His gaze remained locked on you—yet you couldn’t tell due to the hollow blackness pitched into the carving of his mask. “Your name?” He hummed lowly, his body still enveloped by his large coat, and arms hidden under the sides of the thick pale silk.

“(Name).” You replied bluntly, clearing your throat and lowering your voice almost immediately after as to not give a rude impression. “Yours?”

“Il Capitano.”

Capitano seemed to follow your lingering gaze as he spoke, tracing each spot your eyes transfixed on periodically. However, there was one particular spot you couldn’t take your eyes off, and he didn’t take long to notice you focused on the Fatui emblem at the corner of his harbinger coat. “First of the Fatui harbingers.” He added, sensing that you had been wondering his relation to the infamous organization serving under the Cryo Archon dispersed across Teyvat.

Sensing your evident shifts and subtle kicks of your feet, he didn’t take long to pick up on your troubled state fidgeting before him, as if you were afraid of a train of emotional danger clouding your judgement to even think properly—much less walk in such bitter conditions.

“Where are you off to so late, miss (Name)?”

“I’m just walking home…it’s important family business.”

You immediately added that last part as an audible afterthought, not wanting to involve a harbinger in your personal affairs. Capitano wasn’t stupid, however. The clouds of tension and fear were palpable amidst the indifferent expression of yours, flaked white from the occasional crystals of snow fluttering onto your face. Heavy clanks followed your words as he stepped forward carefully, not wanting to startle you as he made his way directly beside you.

The black fur lining the neckline of his coat brushed against your collarbone as he stood closely shoulder to shoulder with you, head kept high. He continued to stare off into the distance ahead of him, as if the burrowing fog wasn’t enshrouding the entire vicinity before the two of you and dimming your line of sight.

“Do you mind if I accompany you home?”

You blinked out of pure surprise. A harbinger? Walking you home? At first it was too much, you couldn’t possibly accept this, much less waste his time like this! However the chilling thought of walking alone at night so late sent a shiver down your spine, and it was definitely not just from the cold.

“Not at all, Sir Capitano.”

He shook his head, stepping forward as he beckoned you to catch up to him.

“No need for formalities. Just Capitano is fine.”

Nodding, you briskly walked beside him to match his pace. The two of you were purely silent as he walked into the swirls of fog patterned along the vicinity clouding the array of homes lined up on either side of the street. Shuffles of chains and howls of wind were the only noticeable sound echoing along the empty night roads, inducing a rush of calmness that replaced your previous anxious state. Halfway through, you proceeded to extend your arm out, pointer finger fixing ahead of you at a slight angle.

“My home should be around there.”

Capitano simply nodded, shifting his path in the direction of your finger’s aim as he slowly headed toward the squeezed space of homes cluttered along the sides. Once reaching your doorstep, he halted at the hardened spruce topped with a silver knocker situated above the center, as if he was awaiting your next words. You delivered him a sincere and thoughtful smile, folding your arms as you didn’t know what exactly to do with them. The freezing steel of the knocker uncomfortably brushed along the exposed skin of your shoulder, which was not effectively covered by the ragged coat, making you hunch over upon contact embarrassingly.

“Thank you, Capitano. I don’t think I could have reached home quick enough before passing out on the streets..”

He let out an affirmative hum once more, looking down at you through his helmet framed by his long hair which was now a bit unkempt from the winds mixed with the fog. But it was only a strand or two off anyway.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss (Name).” He paused briefly, before adding once more. “If you’re in any trouble that requires my assistance, don’t feel afraid to call me.” His words were sweet, yet they made you laugh faintly, making you biting your tongue at his low tone questioning what was so humorous about his statement.

“Ah. It’s nothing, Capitano. It’s just…we met under a few hours ago..”

“It’s not the time we knew each other that’s the matter. Rather, it’s the fact that it’s obvious you’re clearly going through something, (Name). I don’t mean to pry, I just want to do what is just for you. And I can tell you’re a good person.”

His words only brought that faint elated smile back onto your face, an unexplainable disappointment drooping within you when he steps away from the door to head back. You wave to him, and he gives a quick nod, turning his back to you and heading back to god knows where. That smile remained on your lips for quite a bit, even when you rocked open the door slowly into the comfort and warmth of your home.

What a respectable and kind man.

A/N: it’s 1 am and I have a quiz tomorrow morning LOLLL

Anyway I’m so happy I got this done yay

[horzagobuchul]

I am a bigger girl

Samus had always epitomized the peak of physical fitness, renowned for her muscular and agile form. One ordinary day, as she strolled through town, her adventurous spirit led her to a charming bric-a-brac store. Among the myriad oddities, a crystal ball shimmered with an uncanny allure. When she gazed into its depths, the mantra "I am a bigger girl" mysteriously imprinted itself in her mind. Although puzzled, she dismissed it as a quirky moment and went about her day. Yet, the mantra began to subconsciously shape her choices.

As the days unfolded, Samus found herself indulging more frequently in rich, calorie-dense foods—pizza, pasta, and sweets became staples, and she traded her green teas and water for sugary sodas. The mantra "I am a bigger girl" echoed in her thoughts, nudging her further from her disciplined routines. Gradually, her commitment to exercise waned. The gym sessions that had been a cornerstone of her life gave way to evenings spent gaming or watching movies. The mantra "I am a bigger girl" repeated in her head, soft but insistent.

Samus's once exceptional metabolism began to falter under the new regime. Clothes that had once fit snugly now strained across her body. She stubbornly clung to her old wardrobe, leaving pants unbuttoned and disguising her changing figure with long shirts. Despite her discomfort and the creeping realization of her weight gain, the mantra "I am a bigger girl" persisted, growing louder with each reflection in the mirror.

As months turned into a year, the reality of her transformation became undeniable. Each attempt to revert to her old habits was drowned out by the relentless whisper, "I am a bigger girl," which now filled her with a resigned acceptance rather than resistance. Finally, Samus embraced her new self; she started buying clothes that fit her larger figure, finding comfort in fabrics that accommodated rather than constrained.

In her acceptance, Samus discovered a new kind of peace. She no longer fought the image in the mirror but welcomed it with a gentle acknowledgment. "I am a bigger girl" had transformed from a haunting echo to a statement of her new reality.

"I am a bigger girl."

[liv2post]

Dungeon Bats

Animagus!Snape x Animagus!Professor!Reader Wordcount: ~1000 Summary: Severus Snape thinks the Muggle Studies professor is strange only to find out she is an animagus with an awfully familiar form.

Read here or on ao3

The Muggle Studies professor was strange.

Hogwarts always had its fair share of odd characters occupying teaching positions. Even a ghost, evidently, was capable of teaching. But he couldn’t place what it was about you that made him so suspicious. 

You were human, not like Firenze or Professor Binns. You weren’t kooky like Hagrid or Professor Trelawney. Outwardly, you appeared perfectly normal. However, there were oddities if one looked closely.

You ate fruit. Lots of it. Every day at breakfast, instead of toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, things the other teachers would partake in, your breakfast consisted of fruit and only fruit, including a cup of pumpkin juice. Your plate appeared almost like a small pyramid, stacked with cubes of cantaloupe, pineapple, strawberries, honeydew, and grapes, leaving behind a pool of sweet juices when consumed. 

You also had a tendency to pop up and disappear seemingly out of nowhere. One time he went into your classroom to talk to you about moving a couple of detentions around only to find it empty, having swept his gaze around it. Just as he approached your office door to knock on it, you uttered a soft “hello” as you stood in the middle of the classroom, making him jump out of his skin. 

Furthermore, Filch had brought up to him once that he could hear some perplexing screeching noises echoing from random parts of the castle at night and even what sounded like right outside the windows. What was strange about it is he only brought them up the morning after you were scheduled to perform rounds.

This wasn’t to say he disliked you. Quite the opposite. Out of everyone in the castle, he’d say he preferred your company. Who he'd rather sit next to at Quidditch games? Probably you. Even though you were the Muggle Studies teacher, you had plenty of knowledge about Care for Magical Creatures and DADA. Potions weren’t your forte, but you’d happily let him ramble about the subject, even when he’d realize too late that he was rambling. 

“Why do you eat so much fruit?” he asked one day when you came into his classroom eating a sliced-up apple.

“Oh, uh, that’s just my animagus urges. Sorry, am I dripping juice on the ground again?”

He blinked dumbly at you. “You’re an animagus?”

You chuckled, “You didn’t know, Severus? I thought Minerva would’ve told you. Yes, I am an animagus.”

“What animal?” he asked. You smirked and set down the apple slices on a nearby table before shifting. Your robes moved with you, swishing up and shrinking until you took the form of a fruit bat. You flapped and swooped about the air in a few circles before landing on the flat surface of the table, using your talons and thumbs hooks to wriggle toward your sweet fruit.

“You’re a fruit bat,” he observed. You screeched at him in confirmation and began to gingerly gnaw on the flesh of the nearest apple slice. Severus remained quiet for a little, seemingly thinking to himself as his fingers flexed and his jaw clenched slightly. Much to your curiosity, he wordlessly set his wand down and took a deep breath. Within a flash, his robes swooped around him, and in his place was a fruit bat, just like you, but bigger. He flapped his wings just hard enough to get him onto the table as he landed with an audible thud. It was pretty much impossible for bats to take flight without launching from a tree or a high-up place.

[Woah! You’re a bat too? That’s awesome! Is that why students call you a “dungeon bat?”]

[Yes, I am an animagus whose form is also a bat, and no, that’s just a coincidence.]

[How come you’re so much bigger than me?]

[You don’t exactly tower over me, Y/N.]

From then on, the two of you would sometimes go on day flights if both of you had some free time. While both of you wished to fly at nights, you still needed time to sleep and perform your teaching duties during the day. However, your favorite times were when the both of you were scheduled to do rounds. Your classrooms were on opposite sides of the castle so it was almost like a game to use echolocation to find each other in the dark and meet up. It was a little fun considering the dungeons were almost maze-like. If the two of you were sure that no students were out and about, you’d ditch your duties, ascend up the Astronomy tower, and take off into the night sky, playfully chasing one another or showing off flying moves. 

Severus hardly used his form unless it was necessary. It’s not like one got to choose which animal they could shift into. Admittedly, he was a bit let down when he first shifted all those years ago, but with you he learned to embrace his batiness, though he still resisted such urges when it came to eating a castle’s worth of fruit. He liked flying, of course, but he found that he quite liked hanging upside down too, especially when he needed a break from grading or just wanted a change of scenery. Sometimes he’d come hang around your office when you were grading and vice versa.

Dumbledore came to visit his classroom one late afternoon to talk about a particularly unruly Slytherin, but could not find the potion master anywhere, not even in his office. It was rather dark, all the lamps extinguished and curtains drawn. What he did notice, however, was two wands haphazardly tossed onto the stone ground near Snape’s desk, one of which he recognized as your wand. Dumbledore craned his neck up towards the ceiling where an old chandelier hung and sure enough, hanging from one of the rungs was a large fruit bat, and swaddled in its wings being held close to its fur, a smaller fruit bat. The both of you were napping. The old wizard smiled at the sight and slowly receded back through the doorway, happy that Severus had finally found a little bat of his own.

[pretzel-box]

ANOTHER IDEA

so you can hide behind Sebastian when you need to hide obviously so imagine male Mc running and hiding behind him because they got scared

words: 1,2k

tags: can be read as GN!reader, Sebastian has a soft spot

The air was thick, damp, and every sound seemed to echo endlessly. You moved as quietly as possible, your breathing shallow, trying not to draw attention to yourself. The low, unsettling hum of the facility’s failing machinery was the only constant, punctuated by the occasional distant creak of metal or the soft drip of water seeping through the cracked walls.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you rounded another corner, hoping against hope that you were going the right way. The map you had memorized felt hazy in your mind, but you were certain that Sebastian's shop was nearby. You just had to keep moving. You didn’t have time to be lost.

Behind you, a faint but terrifying sound broke through the murkiness—a dragging noise, accompanied by a low, ominous growl that echoed through the hallway. Your blood ran cold as you recognized it. Pandemonium.

The monstrous creature that roamed these halls was something out of a nightmare. A massive, hulking figure, barely human in its movements, with a deep, unending rage that could tear through steel doors. You had only heard stories about it before now, but the reality of its presence was far worse than you had imagined.

You hadn’t been spotted yet, but you knew it wouldn’t be long. The creature’s senses were sharp, and the slightest mistake on your part would mean certain death. You forced yourself to stay calm, to focus on the goal: Sebastian’s shop.

There, you might find some semblance of safety, a place to catch your breath. Sebastian was the one stable force in this forsaken place, and you hoped, desperately, that he’d be able to help you. Or at the very least, hide you from Pandemonium’s wrath.

You quickened your pace, each step measured but hurried. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, and the distant sounds of Pandemonium’s approach made your skin crawl. The creature was getting closer and it was a gamble if it would spot you or not, but you didn’t dare look back. You couldn’t risk it.

Finally, you spotted it—the faint glow of Sebastian’s shop ahead, a sliver of light in the oppressive darkness. Relief washed over you, but you couldn’t afford to slow down yet. You sprinted the last few steps, nearly tripping over debris in your haste. As you reached the vent, you flung it open and stumbled inside, shutting it quickly but as quietly as possible behind you.

The shop was dimly lit, the familiar sight of various oddities and tools lining the shelves. The air was thick with the scent of oil and metal, a stark contrast to the dampness outside. And there, in the corner, stood Sebastian with his signature smirk and his hands rubbing together.

His three eyes immediately focused on you, his usual expression shifting to one of concern as he took in your disheveled appearance. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked, his deep voice gruff but laced with underlying worry.

You didn’t have time to explain. “Pandemonium,” you gasped out, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s close.”

Sebastian’s expression darkened, and without a word, he gestured for you to get behind him. He was tall enough to easily cover you, in case of Pandemonium. Usually it wouldn't enter Sebastian's shop but it's better to be safe than sorry. You didn’t hesitate, ducking down and pressing yourself against the wall, your breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

Sebastian moved to stand in front of you, his large, imposing figure effectively shielding you from view. His angler lure cast a faint, eerie light, but he kept it low, barely illuminating the shop.

The shop fell into a tense silence, the only sound being your frantic heartbeat. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to steady your breathing, trying to push away the image of Pandemonium ripping through the door. But Sebastian’s presence was a small comfort, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this hellhole.

Outside, the heavy sounds of Pandemonium grew louder, closer, until they were right outside the shop. You held your breath, your entire body tensing as the door creaked slightly under the weight of the creature passing by.

For a moment, it seemed as if time had stopped. The only thing you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. Sebastian stood still, a statue of calm in the midst of chaos, his eyes fixed on the door.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the sound of Pandemonium’s sounds began to fade, the creature moving further down the hall, continuing its search elsewhere. You didn’t dare move, not yet, not until you were sure it was safe.

Several agonizing minutes passed before Sebastian finally relaxed, his shoulders loosening as he turned to look at you. “It’s gone,” he said quietly, his voice steady.

You let out a shaky breath, your body slumping against the wall in relief. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving you exhausted and trembling.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Sebastian gave you a long look, his gruff exterior softening slightly. “You’re safe now,” he said, his tone a bit gentler than before. “But you need to be more careful. Next time I will charge extra.”

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. “I know. I just… I didn’t know where else to go.”

Sebastian grunted in response, dropping his sarcasm, but there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. “You did the right thing, coming here. Just… stay close. I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

You managed a small, grateful smile. “I appreciate it, Sebastian. Really.”

He shrugged it off, his rough exterior still in place, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “Get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you down. The adrenaline that had kept you going was fading fast, leaving you drained and shaky. You glanced around the shop, spotting a small, slightly worn chair tucked in a corner. Without another word, you made your way over and sank into it, your body finally relaxing now that you were safe.

Sebastian watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a small sigh, he turned back to a table, busying himself with some tools as if nothing had happened. But there was a sense of watchfulness about him, like he was still keeping an ear out for any signs of danger.

You closed your eyes, letting the steady, rhythmic sounds of Sebastian’s work lull you into a sense of calm. The terror of Pandemonium’s pursuit felt like a distant memory now, something that belonged to another world. Here, in the dim light of Sebastian’s shop, surrounded by the comforting hum of machinery and the quiet presence of the man who had saved you, you felt… safe.

“Sebastian?” you murmured, your voice soft and drowsy.

“Yeah?” he replied, not looking up from what he was doing.

“You're not that bad.”

He paused for a moment, then glanced over at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Just get some sleep, alright? We’ll figure the rest out later.”

You nodded, letting your eyes close completely. The last thing you heard before sleep claimed you was the gentle clinking of metal as Sebastian continued his work.

You nodded again, finally allowing yourself to relax fully. The danger had passed, at least for now, and you were safe—thanks to Sebastian.

[comicaurora]

tldr I committed to a bit too hard

The slow-dawning sunlight dappled down through dense, rich foliage, scattering golden lace across mossy trunks and grassy hillocks. The light caught on the forest floor in a thousand glassy dewdrops and bent, fisheyed, in globed inversions of the canopy above.

No breeze stirred the forest so early in the morning, but a thin mist gathered in the valley under the warming air. Sunbeams lanced through the fog, pale in the dawn but soon to brighten and intensify. For now, the air was damp and cool and still, and the scent of the night lingered.

Pip bent a pawful of grass to the side and sniffed the air suspiciously.

It was too quiet, too still. And with no wind, she couldn't mark the position of the strange beasts and their odd, dusty, acrid scent that had no place in these woods. It hung low and directionless over the peaceful morning, distant but permeating, like a faraway fire.

She adjusted her backslung blade, wrapped her cloak closer around her and dropped onto all fours, nose pointed straight ahead and whiskers standing at attention. Her dusty green-gray wrap would shield her from all but the most attentive prying eyes, and - she quirked an ear, just to be sure of the silence - most of the forest was still asleep, unlikely to mark her passage.

She managed to stifle a flinch as a sound that wasn't a sound bypassed her ears and rang straight into her head.

Pip? Where'd you go?

She exhaled softly through her nose, the barest expression of frustration she allowed herself.

Scouting, Alder. Go back to sleep.

She set off before he could reply, scurrying silently along the mossy forest floor, tracing a sinuous route through the canopy's shadow to stay out of the slow-brightening sunbeams.

Scouting?!

The thought squeaked with disbelief. She didn't answer it.

Alder never had fewer than three thoughts at a time, and the more agitated he became, the harder they became to sort through. A jumble rang in her skull, a snatch of Eldest told us- and moves like thunder and have to hide, that last one echoing in six different ways with the significance it held in his mind. She concentrated on tracing her silent route, one shadow to the next, and came to a stop under a broad-leafed stalk as Alder's distress built to a crescendo.

If she kept moving, eventually she'd slip out of his range. Wasn't that a tempting thought.

I said go back to sleep, she sent, and with an afterthought of inexpert kindness, added I'm being careful. It'll be fine.

The chattering ground to a halt, and she felt the effort it took him to focus his thoughts down to a single thread. Come back, Pip. We have to stay hidden until they're all gone.

We can't hide if we don't know where they are.

Pip caught the beginning of his protest and shook herself violently, breaking off the connection. It was rude, she knew; closing her mind completely was one of her rarer talents, but unlike her other oddities, this one she wasn't particularly respected for. Her skills as a scout were admired precisely because she had such sharp senses, physical and mental both - some days she could even hear the slow, tangled thoughts of the Long Shadows - but when she didn't want to be disturbed, she could wall herself off from the others as thoroughly as if she'd been on the other side of the forest.

And right now, picking her way between treetrunks and sniffing her way towards the bizarre menagerie that had invaded her forest, the last thing she wanted was to be disturbed.

Her right forepaw sank in unexpectedly soft soil, and she recoiled with a stifled gasp. Her eyes darted across the swath of ground, analyzing its shape - and then she widened her scope, scanning the yards beyond that first strange softness. In a low-lying, hollowed track between two thick-rooted trees, the carpet of grass and flowers were flattened and crushed into a felted mat, mud bubbling through it in irregular patches like sickness in a wound. A wide track had been beaten into the soil by dozens - at least dozens, she amended - of flat-pawed creatures. Their dusty, acrid stink lay heavily over it.

She drew back from the unnaturally soft soil. Even with her diminutive size and weight, there was the risk of getting mired in unexpectedly watery ground, and while rescue was never far away in these woods, she certainly didn't want to weather Alder's overconcern or Eldest Luma's quietly smug passivity. Instead she skirted towards a point where the track narrowed, lashed her tail for a momentary burst in balance, then sprang over the mud and latched onto a tree root on the other side, freshly ripped free from the soil and scored with dozens of thin scars from the claws of the marching creatures. She scurried up and settled at the tree's base, where the gnarled roots tangled into a more-than-sturdy foothold overhanging the morass.

With the newfound advantage of height, she surveyed the terrain. The tracks overlapped one another in a mad scramble, pouring up from the lowland forest and curving up and away.

They moved with surprising organization for such motley creatures. She counted at least four very different sizes of print in the track, some barely longer than her own body (nose to the base of her tail) while some were large enough to crush her underfoot without even noticing.

The tracks were only a few hours old. The swarm must have passed in the early pre-dawn. She strained her memory to try and recall if she'd felt any tremors from down in the sleep-halls of the hollow, but if she were honest with herself, they were too far down and too well-insulated by the soft soil walls to have marked their passage.

She turned her attention to where the trail vanished from sight, curving over and up the slope. The land in that direction was treacherous and, to the mind of her people, best avoided. Gravel slips and rain rivulets ran down between the massive plates of rock that jutted out of the soil, and even though trees and flowers overgrew them, their roots could not be trusted to hold the ground together enough for safe passage of one of her size. Fresh rainfall unearthed and dislodged glassy chips of stone, and the soil turned to mud and slipped between the boulders, exposing treacherous chasms that could swallow an unwary traveler. The shattered earth built up and up until it abruptly skewed and slanted down in a gentle curve, like the ground had been struck with a terrible force and the shattering had rippled out from the center. And in the heart of that broken land, glimpsed fearfully from treetops or the shadow of the stones, lay the stronghold of the Long Shadows.

Once, long redmoons ago, Pip had traveled three days and nights to scale the shattered peaks herself, to see the stronghold with her own eyes (mostly due to a burst of rebellious curiosity after a scolding from Eldest Luma). The works of the Long Shadows could always be distinguished from natural formations or nests - they had a love of smooth things, and the stone they shaped stretched cleanly skyward and bore no footholds beyond the straight, geometric fissures that ran up and through them. So Pip already knew that the stronghold was encircled by a massive shadowcrafted cliff, pale and smooth as ice and taller than trees, and it surrounded the entire stronghold just behind the shattered peaks. Beyond the wall, great columns and cliffs jutted skyward, more smooth handicraft of the Long Shadows. At times they were even spotted outside the walls, tending great swaths of land in the same precise straight lines they shaped their stone. Those tracts bore vast quantities of food in unnatural abundance, some that grew nowhere else in the valley, but the Long Shadows guarded them closely and harshly punished intrusion, and the Eldest three generations before Luma had forbade anyone from entering (or even approaching) their strange geometric works, no matter how lean the winters became.

She debated following the trail. It would inexorably lead her towards the stronghold, but if the creatures were focused solely on the Long Shadows, that was valuable information to bring back to the hollow. No doubt Eldest Luma would be pleased to have yet another reason to avoid the Long Shadows and their works.

A sudden awareness prickled in the small of Pip's back, shivering up into her ears and all the way down to the tip of her tail. Her gray fur bristled and she froze, eyes darting wildly, seeking the source. The feeling had no obvious impetus, but she trusted her tail with her life, and something was happening. Something sourceless, something…

At the base of the root she was balanced on, a sprout punctured the trodden soil and curled upwards, splitting into pairs of pale green leaves. She watched as it climbed to twice her height in less than three beats of her racing heart.

Instinct took over. She scampered up the tree like a shot, finding footholds in the bark with a practiced ease that belied her jolting terror. She plunged into the safety of the leafshadow and clung to a branch, breathing fast and shallow and trying very hard to stay quiet.

Below her, a green carpet spread across the mire as grass and flowers bloomed impossibly fast.

The Weeping Shadow was approaching.

Pip strained her ears and caught the hint of a whisper of movement through the grass, distant and soft but certainly coming closer. It was pointless to cast her eyes towards the darkness - The Weeping Shadow was, in the stories, always swathed in gray, near invisible in the shadow of the canopy, and it passed in many tales without a trace, save for its flowering footsteps as its passage drove the forest to frenzy.

But it never came so close to the stronghold. The Weeping Shadow's domain was the deep and tangled woods, much further into the valley than even the hollow. It haunted the river and the wild places, and its realm was thick with plants of impossible vitality and sweetness - but not even the bravest scout dared its domain, even when hunger was rampant. The fruits of the Weeping Shadow's realm were steeped in an absolute sorrow whose depth defied comprehension, and the slow pulse of its thoughts churned in dark and wrenching misery that could be heard across half the valley. It was too much for the mind to take for long, and scouts that had strayed into its influence took moons to recover from the borrowed grief.

That had been the prickling on Pip's neck. The slow approach of the Weeping Shadow was already casting a pallor on her mind - and it was getting closer.

Pip's thoughts scrambled for her next move. If she stayed hidden, the Weeping Shadow would pass nearer to her than anyone had ever dared. She flattened her ears against her head and focused on the walls around her mind. Could she close herself to it strongly enough to hold out?

A wild fear beat against her ribs. She wanted to stay clinging to this branch forever, but she also wanted to bolt, to sprint the length of the branch and fling herself into open space, trusting the soft soil to cushion her fall - or rather, if she were honest with herself in that moment, heedless of what the fall might do to her. The desperate urge to flee was strong in her people, and here, faced with a terror closer than ever before, it was nigh overwhelming.

But Pip had a third instinct that overruled all others when she allowed it, and it had been slowly growing in her mind ever since she'd slipped from the hollow before the dawn. It was a hunger, of a sort, and one that warred always with fear. The hunger was curiosity, a thrumming urge for exploration and understanding that spurred her on through peril and dark for the promise of clarity on the other side.

The beasts in her forest were descending on the stronghold, and their passage had stirred the Weeping Shadow from its domain. Something was happening - something vast, something perhaps unknowable. But it would certainly stay unknowable if she didn't even try to know it.

And perhaps the Weeping Shadow knew.

Pip had more control than most over the openness of her mind. It alarmed her peers, sometimes, that she could pass among them in silence, unreceptive to their soundless speech. It unnerved them more, for those who knew - from a time when she was more open with her secrets and her strangeness - that she could at times hear the deep thoughts of the Long Shadows, and stranger still, sometimes even catch a shred of their meaning. The idea that the minds of the Long Shadows could in any way compare to the bright, clear thoughts of her people was on the surface laughable, and just under that surface, frightening. Still, she knew it was true. Their minds were dark, slow places, but they contained meaning and knowledge, most beyond the reckoning of her kind.

The mind of the Weeping Shadow was an abyss of grief and sorrow, but if she could attune her senses to it - if she could withstand its pressure - she could, perhaps, glean its purpose in the shattered peaks, and what it knew of the creatures that she pursued.

The underbrush cracked. Pip flattened herself against the branch and peered intently at the sound as the rolling wave of green spread under the tree, blanketing in every direction.

A shape moved in the shadow of the trees, ponderous and slow.

Pip felt her eyes grow hot and stinging, the space behind them heavy with unshed tears. A borrowed bottomless grief encroached on the walls of her mind, lapping at it like a swelling river threatening its banks.

The Weeping Shadow broke from the treeline and stepped forward.

It towered, even from Pip's high vantage point. It was gray and still and almost shapeless in the dim of the canopy, but twin lights glimmered near its summit, pale green like the sprouts boiling at its feet.

Pip's head pounded. The pressure of its presence was terrible. It was vast, yes, but the power of the sorrow within it seemed vaster still - like all the forest around it was desperate to weep, and the Shadow was the only part of it that could, yet it refused to.

The Shadow tilted its head down, and the lights of its eyes vanished in the gloom. But it was not weeping, Pip knew. It was… looking.

Looking at the tracks under its carpet of grass.

Pip gritted her teeth, gripped the branch, and opened her mind.

It was gentler than she had anticipated. The pressure and power was indescribable, but once she stopped trying to push it back, she found it moved her rather like water would - with force, but without pain. It was almost easy to let the thoughts of this vast creature buffet her where they would.

The words in the Weeping Shadow's mind were unknown to her, but she felt a snatch of them repeating over and over again. The words mattered less than the feeling that drove them, and as she focused, she realized that the Weeping Shadow was, in some way, at war with itself; the thoughts were not all in agreement. The repetition smelled of deep, old terror, but its loop was broken over and over again by a different, newer thought - one that Pip herself was intimately familiar with, strong enough that she needed no translation to parse it:

But I can help.

Dimly, in her faraway body, she felt tears pouring from her, hot and desperate from a grief she couldn't fathom. Her claws gripped the bark of the branch. The Weeping Shadow's thoughts, at the moment, were focused on its inner war, but it did nothing to shield Pip from the substrate of its misery. Still, she was onto something. If she could just push through, she might learn what the Weeping Shadow understood of the intruders to their forest.

Pip dug deeper. The Weeping Shadow knew what these creatures were - knew what they intended - believed it could help in some way - but what did it know of them?

Running below the looping dread and the punctuating bursts of hope, Pip glimpsed a glimmering ribbon of understanding wending its way just below the Weeping Shadow's conscious thought. It snaked under the fear, coiled around the thought of help. This had to be the knowledge that had motivated the Weeping Shadow's unheard-of migration. This was the mystery of the creatures answered.

This, perhaps, was Pip's only mistake. As she caught the thread of that understanding, it abruptly yanked against the current and plunged her down, down, down into the icy depth of the Weeping Shadow's truest misery. Its knowledge of these creatures came from the same bone-deep wellspring as the torrent of tears, and Pip screamed aloud as it battered her mind full-force. Alien thoughts crashed against her, unbearably loud; the grinding of bone, the shifting of stone, the pounding of waves greater than any river, the splintering of mighty trees. A twisting, a breaking - a power like a maddened, wild animal, thrashing and uncontrollable, kept in check only by its own terrible exhaustion and grief. She was so, so small, and somehow in the depths of this vastness she was even further diminished, crushed to a single point of light-

And something was watching her.

With a last mighty burst of willpower she released the thought-thread, flung herself away, and tumbled off the branch. It was something of a mercy that she was too stunned to feel the impact, and the carpet of seedlings cushioned her fall.

The first thing she became aware of was her breathing, high and fast and shallow in time with her racing heartbeat, real panic and borrowed sorrow draining away with shocking rapidity. Second, she felt the pain; her head pounding with spent exhaustion, her paws cramped in every joint, her back and shoulders bruised from where the impact of the fall had driven her scabbarded blade against her spine.

The third thing she became aware of was the shadow stretching towards her, claws stretched as long as her whole body, the deep purple of the skies after dusk.

The Weeping Shadow loomed over her, vaster than mountains. Two points of green pierced out from the dark.

She ran.

[secretlovezz]

1k! 1k! 1k!

Reader is from another agency or department and is helping the BAU team out on a case and they have strange thinking habits. Spencer keeps finding the reader while doing these habits.

Ex. Sitting in a dark storage closet, somehow sitting on top of the break room fridge, upside down, walking around in circles, etc

Vampire

Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: I'm pretty sure there's nothing but fluff here

Wordcount: 692

A/N: love this request cause I sit in weird positions when I'm thinking lololol hope I did your idea justice 🫶🩷

"Wha- uh wh-what are you doing?"

Spencer knew that people had their own ways of getting themselves to focus on a certain task, I mean he certainly did. He'd done plenty of research on it at some point in his early college life. Sometimes he'd pace around the room he was in fingers tapping against each other in deep thought about whatever the current case was about until Hotch or Derek snapped him out of what seemed to be a trance. Once in a while, he'd simply take a deep breath in and out to rid his mind of other troublesome thoughts to focus on work but this- your thinking habits- though he logically understood we're so very odd to him.

For example, he's just walked in on you sitting with your legs crisscrossed on a chair while your eyes are closed and brows furrowed... in the dark... in silence.

"M' tryin' to see if I can figure out how the dump sights link together- 'cause I mean I know they do, there's like no way they don't- he even..." Spencer swears that he's listening he always does when it comes to you but as he stares at you, your eyes are still closed despite him turning on the light when he first walks in, his own brows start to crease in confusion. His lips part dryly wanting to speak up about his thoughts on your oddities but decided against it as you were still speaking.

You smile, “So what do you think?” Spencer frowns and tries to recall the words that had so smoothly left your lips.

“Um… I- about what?” His voice is soft with shame at his lack of concentration on a conversation seemingly involving information of the current case and when your shoulders slump, eyes creasing at him his shame only intensifies and aches deep in his gut. “Sorry- It’s just- well I… sorry.” His head hangs while his fingers tap against the file in his hands.

Focus.

Your silence is just as unusual as his own, it almost scares him, he thinks the air has just condensed around his form; it suffocates him forcing the release of a vomit of words he had just been repressing. “You were in the dark and while pragmatically I know it’s probably your way of getting yourself focused and your mind running so you can efficiently do your job- I mean i’ve read plenty about the many practises one does to anchor themselves- I just thought it was a little weird the way you went about it- not that you're weird! ‘Cause you're not! I would never say anything like that about you because you're great and you do your job amazingly. I just- I just um… was curious I guess.”

No matter his IQ Spencer was sure he had never felt so dumb, hating the unavoidable fact that only you could make him stumble this way. He sighs before letting his teeth find his pink bottom lip to chew on. His fingers tap faster against his file creating a light thump sound to echo around the otherwise stomach churning-ly silent filing room.

The heating flush he feels when the corners of your mouth start to tip upwards in amusement colors his cheeks with a rosy hue that has him further trying to hide his face by staring at the floor.

Your smile widens at his shyness, “it's okay I can admit it is a little weird,” the small chuckle that enveloped your words made his heart flutter aggressively in his chest, “my friends even compare me to a vampire since the sun is clearly my weakness.” Your fingers and brows wiggle in a way that makes Spencer laugh abruptly that gorgeous smile of his over taking his blushed face.

“Clearly.”

You pat the seat next to you with a welcoming and teasing smirk.

“Come sit down so I can tell you what I was talking about since someone renowned ‘Boy Wonder’ had his head up in the clouds.”

The grin never leaves the young doctor's face as he makes his way to you.

“I promise to pay attention this time.”

[perenlop]

alsooooo btwwwww ive been thinking of timeline stuff for my kirbyverse and i think like, for the most part all the main series games are in chronological order except for kirby super star (ultra), which chronologically happens first. super star is basically kirby’s origin story and how he became the hero of dreamland and popstar 

(i also like it bc super star ultra was kumazaki’s first real kirby game as director and thats the start of his modern kirby content so its like a new beginning for that era as well as being the start of kirby’s journey)

[semischarmed]

Thread

Don’t blame me for this one, you guys voted for something diabolical.

= = = = =

The references were esoteric. In fact, I had to hide my true research from the university, under the guise of reclassifying “ritualistic” items. The irony did not escape me. I was actually looking to access a “ritualistic” item that was classified as mundane. 

Legends spoke of a god of flesh. One that manipulates the body as one would manipulate clay. Its name has long since been lost to time, but there are echoes of his work in the myths of old. We often hear of a creator god shaping man from the earth, of half-human hybrids and giants and other such peculiarities. Glimpses of this god of flesh. I had only read into such a figure from a blog by happenstance. A miracle of probability. 

I eyed the needle, now in my hand. It was unassuming but carried a supernatural weight to it, like the weight of time immemorial. I grinned, practically moaned as I pricked my finger with the needle. 

I expected some sort of magical fanfare, maybe a gust of wind but found none. I stared at my hands and then I noticed it. My hands. My flesh. I could feel all of it. I stared intently as I pinched the skin above my finger, I willed the pleat to hold its shape and smiled. I was ready.

- - - - 

I thought through the myths, now partial realities in my head. Though I felt myself brim with power, I knew the drawbacks- there had to be a reason the myths had not made it to present day. The answer appeared in my head. There is only so much one man can do, and being giftedoften made one a target. A word echoed in my head. “Protection”. That did seem to match my records. Humans of old would change their flesh to be stronger, more resilient, adapting to every circumstance thrown at them. But the weakness persisted. One prick to channel the same power as the god of flesh, and another prick locks you from that power again. I smiled to myself. I just needed to get… creative. 

Joey Cooper was well-known around the college. A fifth year senior majoring in Sport Science. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he always meant well. He had an air of confidence to him that often aided his statuesque form. Despite this, something else drew my interest even further. His unattainability. The man was often called by his nickname “old faithful,” having been in a relationship with his girlfriend Britney for as long as any can remember. Guys and girls from all walks of life have tried to tempt “Juicy Joe” (A nickname he wasn’t aware of). None of have succeeded. 

And then there was Charlie Cooper, his younger brother, a freshman with the face of an angel. He had unattainability in a different sense. Kind eyes and gentle curly locks framed a face that often wore a worried expression. Unlike his brother, he was timid, and a bit reserved. He had a lack of confidence that seemed to be a hindrance to his social life. Charlie would often shied away from conversation, despite others regularly visiting his dorm. Charlie roomed with Joey in the school dorms, a rarity for this campus. I overheard a conversation with Charlie once on this oddity. Beneath his unintelligible mumbling he mentioned something about being “faithful to Brit” and getting Charlie “out of his shell”.

I bit my lip thinking about the prospects.

— - - - - -

“Oh hey Joey!” I waved casually as I approached a Joey returning to his dorm room, face flush and covered in a sheen. He must have just come from the gym. He was consistent with his workouts, so it was no surprise he would still be in campus after finals to get one last pump in.

“Hey dude! Uh, sorry I don’t remember names to well”. He replied back in a friendly manner. I shook my head at that.

“No need to apologize. I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He looked back at me expectantly, hand outstretched to greet. I shook it as I continued. “My name’s gonna be Joey too”. He nodded and smiled politely but the man’s face couldn’t hide his visible confusion.

I clung onto the lack of rejection on Joey’s part as an invitation for myself. As he continued into his room, I followed, allowing the door to close behind us. The silence from the near empty dorm was deafening. He turned around, again making a polite smile. “Uh hey again… Joey… can I help you?”

I dropped all pretense, rushing to his bed and taking a whiff. “Fuck dude, you smell so hot”. Everything in the room carried a small sample of his scent. Like a gentle sweaty musk overlaid with his detergent. I looked to the sweaty Joey, inching closer and taking a whiff of his fresh personal scent. Divine. I felt my jaw unlock in a small moan. His post workout scent was like a concentrate of the pleasant musk I smelled before. Like raw testosterone and shallow breaths, and a hint of earthiness that exuded power. Juicy Joe. I was drunk on the scent, mind transfixed, until I caught him staring. He was starting to get upset.

“Hey bro, you should probably lea-“ He froze as he saw me extend a nerve out of my hand, like a red root outstretched into the air. “The fuck?”

He began stepping back but as soon as my nerve landed on his arm, he struggled back into stillness. I smiled in euphoria as I felt every individual root of my vein burrow into his skin and connect with his. Checkmate. He watched as more and more of my nerve rooted into his flesh, screaming as he felt the violation to his sense of touch. 

“No one can hear you bro, it’s after finals, remember?” I twirled the needle in front of him before setting it on the table. “Can’t have you taking a shower and removing your natural cologne”. Joey was still frozen as he saw me begin to undress. Juicy Joe had a body brimming with power, and I knew it would burst at any moment. I took care as I undressed, rooting and unrooting my nerves, and making sure to always keep at least one red thread of control on him at all times. 

Joey glared as he saw me finish placing my clothes in a neat pile on the floor. “Your turn”.

“What the fuck dude!? What makes you think-“ He was cut off as the red strings bridging our flesh began to writhe. In turn, he felt his meaty arms begin to move, and pull down his compression shorts. The feeling was altogether unfamiliar, as he felt his own flesh betray him and move to my will. I willed him to hand me the soaked shorts. Even with the power of the god of flesh on my side, I could feel Joey struggling for control through sheer willpower alone. I laughed a little in my head. There are other ways to break a man. 

I brought his heavenly scented shorts up to my face, gorging myself on the potent raw musk of man. Like a pungent blast of earth and humidity and testosterone. A Joey-concentrate. I could practically feel the potency of it clawing at my nostrils. A sweat-laden Joey reeked in the best way. I must have been lost in pleasure, because my eyes refocused to his pleading face. “P-please man, just stop whatever this is. What do you want?”

I laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s you. I want you. Every part of you.”

A few more nerves shot from my legs, and directly into his. With some new tethers in place, I pulled the threads connecting my arms to his, and quickly slipped under his sweaty workout shirt. I clung to his muscled chest for dear life. ‘Bless these stretchy workout shirts,’ I thought to myself. I felt along the ridges of his spine, across his shoulders which screamed power, and with my hands, I greedily caressed the flesh previously only touched by Britney. I gripped our embrace tighter. Joey was screaming and writhing, soaking the shirt further and my body in his struggle. I moaned as he screamed, as every turn and twist his body made also pushed my chest closer to his, confined by his own workout shirt. I sighed dreamily as his struggle compressed us closer together.

With the power of the needle, I made myself much more malleable and began to slip my arms to into the arm sleeves of his shirt. I spiraled them across his meaty biceps, possessively claiming every square inch of his flesh as my own. I did the same with my legs, wanting to bind us further.

The sight must have been bizarre- two men, naked from the waist down, both in the same sweaty workout shirt. And the smaller man, stretching and wrapping his arms and legs over the other.

“Now for some real fun” I stated, as I shot out as many of my nerves into him as I could. He screamed at the sensory assault as he fell unconscious. I merely continued rooting into him, relishing in being able to feel every inch of Mr. Unattainable. I slowly stumbled our bodies toward his mirror, making sure to have him grab his own phone.

= = = = =

When Joey came to, he saw my head hanging to the side in front of his, and his body enveloped by mine. He panicked when he saw more threads from my face rooted into his neck and mouth. “Fuck Joey, I can feel how strong your lungs are. Even your breaths feel like a top jock” I moaned. 

Like raindrops, I felt his tears stream down his cheek and onto my face. “L-Let me go man. Look I’m sorry for whatever I did to you. I swear I don’t remember doing anything.”

I laughed callously. “No need to apologize, bro. You haven’t done anything to me. I just want you all to my own.” I brought his phone up to his face so he could see the name on the call screen. Britney.

“Babe?” She answered. “What’s up?”

“H-HEL-“ He tried to holler. Instead, his neck swelled and throat strained as he my red thread began to writhe. 

“Joey? Is everything all right?” She asked in a worried tone.

“Fuck yeah it is,” Joey’s mouth laughed, while his eyes showed fear. I continued to use him as my mouth piece. “You’re so boring, Brit. Just called to tell you it’s over.” Tears began to well in his eyes. I could practically hear the tears in Brit’s eyes over the phone.

“Joey… I. Is something wrong? You never call me Brit. I told you how my dad used to…” She trailed, trying to rationalize the situation.

I continued the puppet show as Joey’s eyes continued pleading with me. “Nothing’s wrong, Babe. In fact, it’s finally all right over here.” He stated with a smile. Joey’s eyes winced at the venom spewing from his mouth.

Joey grunted as he tried to stop his free hand from fondling my ass. “Do you know how many girls and guys wanted in these pants, Brit? Do you know how hard is to always turn someone down. They all want a piece of Juicy Joe.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess you mentioned it once…” She sniffled. “But I thought we were fine” said a choked up Britney.

“Fuck no this isn’t fine. Look at me. I’m a fucking bull.” Joey was forced to say, while sticking his tongue out. I briefly stopped his hand from groping my cheek to force it into a biceps flex. He tried to squirm his head away but was ultimately forced to lick it and moan. I huffed and whispered in his ear. “I bet you taste fucking salty, Joey.” 

“Babe, what’s wrong? You never talk about your body that-“

“Brit, just shut the fuck up”. That seemed to shut her up. “Always fucking whining too…” I made Joey huff. The upper half of his head was sobbing now. I forced his free hand back over my ass, and used his other hand to set the call to speaker. “It’s over”.

Joey dropped the phone on the table- still mid call, as I willed his other hand to cup my other cheek. Squeeze. “Fffuuuuck” I moaned. “You’re fucking mine, Joe.” Like his musculature, I commanded my cock into a malleable state, snaking over his, encircling it like a fleshy sleeve. Then, all at once, my red threads of control stirred, as Joey fucked his thick jock dick into my makeshift cocksleeve. “I’m fucking yours”. I made him say. My eyes fluttered in drunken bliss.

“Joey- who is that?”

I felt his head struggle as he tried to stop his body from growing hard. At this, I made sure he had full control of his cock. His plump ass cheeks tightened as his body was forced to thrust into me. I saw him wince, but we both felt the change. Even without me controlling it, his cock stirred to life.

I willed my flesh puppet to answer. “Oh, him? I’ve been fucking him during this call, Brit. That’s how boring you are. Stupid too- we’ve been fucking for months and you never noticed” I make him say it to his reflection as well, topping it with a sleazy grin he never wore. I also made a point to moan, to force him to thrust his hardening dick into me in loud, boisterous grunts. “Fuck. Brit. You. Never. Felt. This. Good”. I make him gasp in between breaths. 

“So you’re fucking him, right now?” She asked, now turning to anger.

“Mmph… YES” I let him shout, as I tightened my fleshy trap around his engorged dick and milk his seed dry. To add to the injury, I released control of his mouth at the same time, so in that moment, he felt himself scream bloody pleasure and coat my flesh in his juices.

“YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD TO ME,” Britney shouts, before hanging up.

Perhaps it was due to the pleasure, or the bombardment of his senses, or the sheer perversion of the situation, but Joey’s eyes rolled back to its whites and his head slumped into my shoulder. 

I basked in the moment, coated in the sweat and baby batter of Mr. Unattainable. Breathing in sync with his unconscious form. With his head still slung forward, I willed his upright form to give my ass another squeeze. “Take me, bro. I’m your fucking meat puppet. Feel me. Use me. These muscles, this body. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” I make Joey say. Mr. Unattainable wholly mine.

I kept him upright, facing the mirror without a care for how sore his post-workout body already was. I made sure he stirred awake, to still see himself playing and groping my fleshy form, bonded together supernaturally by the god of meat. He sobbed silently at our union.

With Joey whimpering and broken, I began to retreat into my original form, letting his arms and legs and chest free. All that connected our two naked bodies now was just a single thread of red. But just one thread was all I seemed to need. I no longer felt resistance from his body, as his sullen face just looked to me with defeat. 

I made him reiterate my will. “I’m all yours,” Joey mumbles. I puppetted him to close the distance, and pull my back towards his abs. Joey did not resist as body grinded into mine. He clumsily grabbed my head for a sloppy kiss. And once again, I tasted and experienced something only Brit previously had. His tears smeared into my cheek as I started making him kiss me. My eyes fluttered closed as I was in ecstasy. True pleasure. His lips slowly pried mine open, then the tip of his tongue touching mine. In our deranged intimacy, I savored the taste of Joey’s mouth and of his tongue now forced mine. I didn’t want this to end. Joey’s body pulled back from the kiss and began groping itself, repeating his new mantra. “I’m all yours.”

Still repeating his mantra, my eyes locked with his, before he grabbed the needle from the desk and pricked his hand with it. In that instant, I heard the door unlock. 

What were the chances? Another miracle of probability. There was a single late final on campus, for an upper div class that freshmen rarely took. And yet, it seemed there was one freshman that did happen to take such a class.

Just my luck. 

Charlie.

= = = = =

A two-parter. Could not for the life of me get usable photos of “Joey” in a compression shirt, so you’re gonna have to use a little imagination for that one haha.

[metamatronic]

Champions Resurrected AU / Prelude 1: Mipha

i was gonna post this on AO3 and I still might if I write more, but here’s a brief written retelling/continuation of the Mipha & Sidon reunion comic (warnings: canon typical violence? just in case)

The crackling noise that shook through Zora’s Domain that morning was mistaken for thunder at first. Zoras chatted amongst themselves, puzzled over lightning in a cloudless sky. Even King Dorephan, who had lived long enough to experience nearly every natural oddity that occurred near the Domain, leaned forward on his throne to peer into the vast blue.

“There, Father! Do you see it?” Sidon, always eager to abandon their discussions on politics, pointed toward the falling beam as it cut through the sky. “A falling star during the day. How rare!”

“I doubt it,” Dorephan rumbled. “I’ve seen many falling stars. I’ve never seen one like that. Something is strange about it.”

“Your Majesty, we are under attack!”

Sidon only winced a little at the sharp voice, before straightening up on instinct. He watched his father shoot his advisor an amused look as he rushed in.

“I doubt that as well, Muzu,” Dorephan chuckled. “If so, our enemy’s aim could certainly use some work!”

“Your Majesty!” Muzu cried, wringing his hands. “Please, consider the possibility at least!”

Sidon tuned out the conversation, walking out to the balcony and watching the dazzling light as it descended. Now that he was really looking, it had a faint blue glow to it that seemed to be dimming as it approached the ground. Its movement was strange, bobbing through the air like it was adjusting its course. A Rito, perhaps?

Sidon certainly hoped not as he watched the light plummet behind the rocks and into the Bank of Wishes. He hadn’t met many, but from what he’d heard, the Rito weren’t particularly keen swimmers. His fins itched as thoughts of warbled squawking and the charging of Lizalfo shock arrows plagued his mind.

“I will go investigate,” Sidon said, loudly enough to cut off whatever tirade Muzu had been in the middle of.

“Sire! Surely you’re joking!” Muzu said. “You cannot be so reckless! Ever since you took on Vah Ruta, you’ve been acting as though you are invincible, insisting you handle things yourself. If you keep acting as such—”

“I am very fast and very capable. I will be back if it is anything too dangerous, I assure you!” Sidon said with a grin. He was already stepping backward towards the edge of the balcony. “You have my word.”

“My Lord!” Muzu cried as Sidon winked, before leaping gracefully off the ledge and into the waters below.

By the time Muzu had made his way to the balcony, the only trace of the prince was a slice of red cutting effortlessly through Ruto Lake.

‌▲ ▲‌ ▲

Mipha groaned, opening her eyes and immediately regretting it as she was buffeted by the fierce wind. As she grasped uselessly at her surroundings, every nerve suddenly sparked to life as she realized she was falling. Fast.

Her right fin was pulled open by a gust and she spun with a yelp, being tossed violently through the air. It reminded her of swimming down a waterfall, the dizzying feeling of the current and gravity pulling you relentlessly toward the sharp rocks below.

“Always keep your eyes forward, my dear Mipha,” her father’s voice echoed, pulling her back to her youth when she’d foolishly closed her eyes and nearly missed the lake below. “The most dangerous thing you can do is let your fear steer you.”

Prying her eyes open, she extended her fins and clumsily straightened herself. She felt a wave of nausea hit as the faded blues of distance gave way to the vibrant greens and purples of the earth below. A long leap off a waterfall, she told herself, that’s all this was.

Mipha bit her lip as she took in the surroundings. Even from this height, she could recognize her home, even if the sight brought her little comfort in her current situation. She was positioned over the Zora River now but could feel the wind knocking her around. Even a few feet off target could spell the end, and Mipha was already more acquainted with death than she ever wished to be.

With a shaky breath, she pulled her arms to her sides and flattened her fins, picking up speed until the world blurred. The wind whistling past her was nearly loud enough to hurt but was soon muddled by the familiar sound of rushing water and bubbling air pockets. She opened her fins quickly to slow the pull downward, relenting only when the pull of gravity faded to the gentle current of the river.

When the bubbles finally cleared, Mipha found herself upsetting close to the rocky bottom of Zora River.

She could still feel her heartbeat everywhere, behind her eyes and at the ends of her fins. She fought the tears pricking her eyes, shaking as the adrenaline slowly filtered from her system.

It was only after she’d allowed herself a moment of reprieve that it clicked.

She had a heartbeat. She could see the small bubbles pushing around her as she moved the water around her. She was here, alive.

“How is this…” Mipha stared at her hands, unmistakably solid, and forgave the tremor in her voice. “What happened?”

A warm light had descended into the depths of Vah Ruta. Mipha had known instantly what it was—could feel the warmth of Hylia even through the coldness of her spirit. She briefly said her goodbyes, before capturing the light in her hands and fading away.

In all honesty, Mipha hadn’t been certain what would come after that. But hurtling toward the ground at high speeds had not been it.

“I should…what should I do?” Mipha waded anxiously back and forth beneath the turbulent current. “Should I return to the Domain? Would that cause some sort of issue? Perhaps I should return to Vah Ruta…”

Despite her fondness for her Divine Beast, Mipha couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through her at that. Surely after committing one hundred years to her tomb, the Goddesses would forgive her stalling her return a bit.

“I’m not even sure how much time has passed since Link’s victory over Ganon…” Mipha mumbled quietly. “For all I know, thousands of years have passed. Perhaps I’ve been reincarnated? Though I don’t think one usually reincarnates as an adult. Or with their memories, for that matter.” Even passing fish seemed to eye her warily as she fidgeted in place. She groaned.

“Oh, just make up your mind, Mipha!” she scolded quietly, squishing her face. “Right, then I’ll return to the Domain and ask around. Surely someone will be able to fill in the details.”

With that, Mipha propelled herself upwards into the main current, pivoted around the bend, and smashed headlong into something.

It was large and red, but that was all Mipha could make out past the stars in her eyes. The direct hit to the nose had shocked her system, leaving her nearly blind in the water. Dazed, she pushed upwards until water gave way to cool air. She shook her head, which only served to worsen the ringing in her ears.

Thankful at least that her sight returned, Mipha blinked and almost doubted her newly restored vision. A Zora nearly twice her size was treading water in front of her, rubbing his nose and saying something Mipha couldn’t quite make out.

“…a…logies, I must h… let the cur…nt…rry me too quickly. Are you injured? I can help you back to the Domain if you are. Again, I apologize for…” The large Zora trailed off as he looked down, blinking owlishly at Mipha.

He was familiar in a way that pulled deep at Mipha’s soul. She could see the lines of others—parts of her father, her mother, even some of herself—but it was the way his eyes lit up with an almost childlike hope that solidified what her heart already knew.

“Sidon?” She asked.

Sidon’s face split into a blinding grin.

“Sister!” He swam forward, before jolting to a stop. His eyes snapped behind her, and it was as they widened in horror that Mipha heard the charging of a shock arrow being knocked.

Spinning, Mipha reached for her trident and was met with empty air. Frantic, she launched a weak spray of water at the Lizalfo before being yanked away. She heard the arrow loose, then the sickening thunk as it embedded into skin.

She looked up at Sidon, who was hunched over her protectively. He winced, undoubtedly from the arrow lodged in his shoulder, and turned to the Lizalfo with gritted teeth.

“No!” Mipha cried. She pulled Sidon underwater, doing her best to ignore the pained yelp as she tugged on his injured arm to urge him lower.

“If I hadn’t struck the arrow with water and activated the shock before it hit you, your injury would be much more severe. We must dive deep enough that the shock radius won’t hit us if he fires again.”

“It’s just one Lizalfo, Sister!” Sidon said, but she could hear him hiss a little as he swam. “I promise, I’ve handled much worse!”

“There is never just one Lizalfo, Sidon,” She chided. “This should be deep enough. Let me heal you.”

She swam behind him, frowning at the scars that littered his body. “I need to remove the arrow before I can begin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Sidon says, his smile strained slightly with pain. “It’s not the first time that this has happened.”

“That is what concerns me,” Mipha said quietly. She yanked the arrow out quickly before pressing her hands to the wound, pooling her energy into her palms. “I have no doubt you have defended our domain bravely, Sidon. I’m so incredibly proud of you. I only wish I could have been there to heal you and protect you from harm.”

“Sister…” Sidon said quietly. He moved to turn, but Mipha tutted at him and he stayed still, tilting his head down to stare at the riverbed below.

“It has undoubtedly been difficult since your…since you failed to return from Vah Ruta,” Sidon said. “But your unending kindness and devotion have been a beacon of hope for our whole kingdom. None more than me. You may not have known it, but there was never a moment you weren’t with me.”

He tilted his head to the side, peering over his shoulder as Mipha worked. “If I may ask, Sister, how is it that you’ve managed to return? Not that I’m ungrateful, I assure you! But…”

“In all honesty, I’m not sure myself,” Mipha said, quietly lifting her hands as the last threads of her healing magic settled into Sidon. “One moment I was aboard Vah Ruta, a spirit, finally content to move on knowing the war was won and our people were safe. Then, the next moment, I’m hurtling toward the ground, several thousand feet in the air. I’m at a loss for explanations.”

Sidon spun around quickly, eyes sparkling. “That glowing comet in the sky, that was you? That is amazing! Extraordinary!” He grabbed her hands, smiling wide. “This must be a gift from the Goddess! Payment for your hard work and sacrifice, no doubt! No one would be more deserving than you!”

At that, Mipha paused. “Do you think…The other Champions, would they have also…?”

“Perhaps so,” Sidon said, scratching his chin. “I can’t say I’ve heard anything, but admittedly I don’t keep very informed on foreign affairs. Perhaps someone else in the Domain has heard something? Or…!”

Sidon snapped to attention, smile glowing impossibly brighter. “I’ll send for Link! Surely he’ll know, as well-traveled and sociable as he is, and I have no doubt he will be thrilled to see you again! Perhaps we could even call the engagement back on!”

Mipha sputtered bubbles at Sidon’a grin. “S-Sidon! There is—was never any engagement! Link and I are friends, th-that’s all!”

Sidon frowned, looking thoughtful. “But I was positive the Zora armor was for him. It looked like a perfect fit!”

“Oh, you found that then?” Mipha said, voice pitching up an octave. “That was, erm, well it was a rash decision really. I thought better of it, hence why he never found out about it! So really, there’s no need to tell him it was even made!”

“Ah, so you didn’t end up confessing anything,” Sidon said, nodding. “Your diary entry was unclear, so I wasn’t sure whether the two of you had made proper arrangements or not. Poor Link remembers very little from that time, unfortunately, and even showing him the passage didn’t seem to help.”

“You…You read my diary?” Mipha mumbled in disbelief. She then swayed a little, realization hitting her. “Link read my diary?!”

“Yes?”

“Did…Did anyone else?”

“Father, Muzu, and a very talented Rito bard named Kass.”

Mipha made a noise like a tea kettle and Sidon looked immediately abashed, glancing away. “Er, I do hope that was alright? Father said you likely wouldn’t have minded, and I wanted so desperately to preserve your legacy.”

“Well, then I have a few words for Father,” Mipha huffed. “Reading a girl’s diary, really! How uncouth.”

She swam past him before turning, holding out a hand for Sidon. It felt a little silly now, offering to guide a Zora so much larger than herself. He must be about her age now and had clearly grown into a capable warrior. But in those eyes, Mipha could only see her young brother, still anxious to speak to others or swim too far from her side.

If Sidon took offense to the gesture, he showed no sign of it as he took her hand tightly. But then he let go, swam beside her, withdrew his trident—Mipha almost thought it was her own, but reconsidered when she noticed how large it was—and set it horizontally behind his back. He tilted his head toward it, but Mipha simply stared in confusion.

“I imagine falling from the sky was a harrowing experience, and I cannot begin to think of how taxing being revived from the dead must be,” Sidon clears his throat, eyes drifting to the side. “Allow me to carry you back. It will be easier to dodge enemies if we travel together, and I assure you I am capable. I am one of the fastest swimmers in the Domain, after all!”

Mipha stared at him a moment more before his action clicked into place. She’d done the same things for him when he was young—using her own trident as a handgrip for a much smaller Sidon as they traversed the waterfalls. Muzu had worried endlessly about it, convinced that Sidon would slip or that his grip would falter and he would go coasting off the side of a cliff. But she’d insisted that she trusted Sidon’s strength and courage, and her father had agreed to allow her to continue.

Now, Sidon swam nervously in front of her, offering his trident to her in the same gesture. She felt her heart swell, seeing that even after all these years, he hadn’t forgotten their time together. She smiled, tears threatening to spill from her eyes again as she dove behind Sidon. He turned to look, smile faltering for a moment before Mipha set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Forgive me, Sidon. I was overcome with emotions. I trust you, and thank you for your kindness.” She tightened her hands around the trident, and the feeling of cool Zora steel beneath her hands for the first time in a century sent a chill through her. “I’m ready when you a—re!”

Mipha bit down a yelp as Sidon shot through the water at near-blinding speeds. It took her a moment to adjust, and even the familiar Zora River left her speechless as it whipped by. She now had no doubt her brother was the strongest swimmer she’d ever met—it was as if the water itself was pushing him forward like a jet stream. It was exhilarating, almost like learning to swim all over again, and Mipha couldn’t contain the joyous laughter that pulled its way out of her.

She was here, really here, feeling the water on her scales and the cool metal under her fingers. She could see the fish and plants move as they swam by, could see the trail of bubbles in their wake. When they broke the surface of the water, cutting effortlessly up the falls of the Domain, she gasped, taking in the view.

She was with her beloved brother, in her beloved home, and she was alive.

[gliphyartfan]

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

Hello! It’s that spooky time of year again! Ahh if only every month was as awesome as this one.

Ah well.

I got a long one for you folks! I guess it’s spooky?

….well I hope it’s spooky in SOME parts.

Anywho, I hope you enjoy and reblog!

———

————

—————

(Y/N) stumbled through the dimly lit dungeon, each echoing step reminding her that she was very much alone at the moment.

The cold stone walls seemed to close in with every corner she turned, each room only leading to more dead ends, puzzles, the occasional trap, and some monsters that were thankfully not smart enough to follow her out of the rooms.

She cursed under her breath, wishing she’d been able to fight back better when she was taken, but her priority then had been protecting the villagers, not herself.

If not that, then at the very least she wished she had been carrying the bag of food Wild had given her. She doesn’t know how long it’s been but she was very hungry and starting to become very thirsty.

She could already see Sky and Hyrule tearfully check her over for injuries.

Wild would certainly be devastated that she hadn’t had anything to eat.

Oh, the guilty faces on the others. It’ll take forever for her to calm them down. (Maybe they’ll visit Malon or Sidon soon so they can all take a well. She was hoping for Rito Village, she missed Tulin.)

Still, she couldn’t simply sit around and do nothing, so hours of struggling, deciphering strange symbols, avoiding monsters, and solving puzzles that seemed crafted to mock her lack of combat skill, she found herself in a new room.

This one was different. Unlike the others, it was lined floor to ceiling with mirrors on one wall. She took a step in, eyeing her tired reflection, hair messy and clothes disheveled.

She looked a mess.

…Eh, what else was new?

Looking around, the room itself sadly offered no obvious clues.

No symbols, no markings, just switches through out the room in an odd manner. She walked toward one of them, pressed it, and waited.

Nothing.

Puzzled, she glanced around, feeling a surge of frustration. Her reflection stared back, and for a moment, it almost seemed like it was staring back at her.

She shook her head, dismissing it as exhaustion.

(Y/N) limped around the room, a sharp sting pulsed from a scrape on her leg, reminding her of how close she’d come to being caught in one of the traps in the previous rooms.

Frustration gnawed at her, but she was too tired to figure out another approach (all she really wanted to do was sleep but she didn’t know if she was under a time limit so she refused to take a break.) so she turned and began to pace, her mind muddled.

She didn’t notice at first, but as she moved, there was a slight lag in her reflection.

Almost like someone was attempting to stay in sync with her.

When she stopped suddenly to wipe sweat from her forehead, her reflection took an extra heartbeat to do the same.

In her exhaustion, she barely registered it, chalking it up to her weary, overstimulated mind playing catch up.

She kept trying, over and over, to find a way to trigger the switches. Her body felt like lead, and her thoughts swirled in circles, too frazzled to make sense of the oddities around her.

After what felt like an eternity, something nagged at the edge of her consciousness.

She was about to try the switches again when a flicker of sudden movement in the mirror caught her eye. She stopped, staring at her reflection, really looking at it this time.

The reflection stared back with the same tired expression. She eyed it for some time, but then closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead.

“You’re losing it. Just finish this up and you can get to bed.” She muttered to herself.

When she took a step back to move towards the next switch, her reflection didn’t quite mirror her. Instead, it stepped forward. (Y/N) froze, having caught its movements, watching closely.

Cautiously, She tested it again, taking a step left; her reflection stepped right.

Right towards a switch that (y/n) herself wasn’t currently near.

With hesitation, she moved her hand so her reflection reached for the switch, and she made motion like she was activating the switch and with surprise watched as the switch both in the reflection and out of it were pressed down.

After a few tries, and getting a few switched to stay down before she messed up, she realized this might be the solution.

With cautious optimism, she began experimenting, watching as her reflection seemed to interact with parts of the room she couldn’t reach.

She started moving carefully, mimicking the steps she thought would activate mechanisms on the other side of the room, using her reflection’s actions to interact with the room’s switches.

After what felt like an eternity, and several missteps, she managed to press down all the necessary switches.

With a creak and a soft rumble, the door at the far end of the room swung open.

Relief surged through her, and she slumped against the wall, barely able to believe she’d managed to clear it. She took a shaky breath, the tension in her shoulders easing as she staggered toward the exit.

She hoped the others weren’t panicking too much.

——-

——

A man bolted through the twisted, desolate forest, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The once proud trees were skeletal and lifeless, their branches clawing at the sky like silent sentinels as he stumbled over twisted roots and tried to evade his relentless pursuer.

Behind him, a snarl was heard that sent a shiver down his spine.

The large Wolf was at his heels, tearing through the trees with bloodthirsty determination.

The man dared a glance over his shoulder, only to see glowing, predatory eyes fixated on him, burning with an intensity that promised retribution.

A sharp growl echoed through the trees, closer than before.

Heart pounding, the man pushed himself harder, ducking beneath low, hanging branches, hoping he could reach the old ruins he’d stumbled upon earlier. If he could lose the Wolf there, he might have a chance to slip back into the cover of darkness and vanish.

But every escape route was cut off by the Wolf’s relentless pursuit. The massive Wolf barely slowed, weaving through the underbrush with an agility that belied his size.

The Wolf’s fangs flashed in the moonlight as he snapped at the man’s heels, forcing him to stumble and regain his footing in desperation.

All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the rustling of dead leaves beneath his feet, and the increasingly menacing growls from behind him.

Every direction felt suffocatingly bleak. He chanced a glance back, hoping to see distance between himself and his pursuer, but fate had other plans.

Suddenly, the pounding of hooves echoed through the darkness. He turned forward just in time to see a powerful figure atop a steed blocking his path. His single eye sharp and cold, his gaze unyielding. Behind him, his companion perched with ease, an arrow nocked and drawn in his bow, the sharp tip aimed directly at the man.

The man skidded to a halt, every muscle in his body taut with panic.

Cornered, he quickly raised a hand, gathering what little magic he could muster.

His fingers crackled with dark energy, and with a desperate cry, he hurled a blast toward the ground, sending up a gust of dirt at the two and creating a fleeting gap between himself and his captors.

He stumbled through the opening, sprinting forward, his lungs burning with renewed hope. He only managed several feet, however, before his escape was abruptly cut off.

A wall of ice erupted in front of him, glistening and deadly. The cold bit into his skin as the ice solidified, forming an unyielding barrier.

He turned, wide-eyed, only to see another one approaching a few paces behind him, holding an ice rod with grim determination in his eyes. His face was set in an expression of pure, seething anger.

Legend’s grip on the rod was tight. He took a step forward, his boots crunching over the frost covered ground as the ice wall stretched higher, trapping the man in a freezing cage.

The man’s gaze darted frantically from Legend to the others, searching for any remaining avenue of escape.

But Time, still seated on Epona, watched him with a steely gaze, and Wild, with his bow drawn, made it clear that there was no mercy to be given.

The man staggered, his monstrous features flickering back to his human guise as he dropped to his knees before a pair of boots, a sword swiftly pointed at his chest.

He clasped his hands together as he looked up at the person before him, a look of desperate pleading on his face, trying to mask the terror in his eyes.

“Please… spare me,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “I was only following orders. I—I didn’t want to harm anyone, not really. I was manipulated against my will! Let me go, and I swear you’ll never see me again.”

Hyrule watched him in silence, his sword still aimed at the man’s chest. His expression was cold, unreadable, unmoved by the pathetic display before him.

After a pause, Hyrule’s gaze hardened, and he spoke in a voice tinged with quiet scorn.

“Spare you?” he murmured, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. “I’ve been hunted by monsters like you my since I killed your master. Do you think my time away would make me forget the monsters hiding behind a human face?”

The man’s face faltered, but he kept his guise, his hands trembling. “I—I was only—”

Hyrule narrowed his eyes, snapping his fingers, summoning a crackling bolt of lightning that struck the man’s body.

The man screamed, his human facade breaking for a moment to reveal his true, hideous form beneath.

“Where is she, servant of Ganon” Hyrule demanded, his voice steady, unforgiving. “Where is the girl you took?”

The servant shuddered, but when he looked up again, a bitter smile twisting his human guise to something monstrous. “You can torture me all you want, hero, but you’ll never find her. My comrades will come for me, and when they do—”

Another snap of his fingers and the servant screamed again.

The servant sneered despite its trembling form, an arrogant grin twisting his lips as he regained some semblance of composure. “You think you’ve won, hero?” he spat, his voice laced with mockery. “You may have me cornered, but Ganon’s power will rise again, and when it does, I’ll be the one standing over your broken body.”

He let out a laugh, cold and confident,

Yet Hyrule did not seemed phased.

Suddenly something heavy thudded to the ground before the servant.

Laughter fading as his gaze dropped, and he saw several severed, bloodied monster heads rolling to a stop at his feet, their lifeless eyes staring back at him. His smirk wavered as he recognized his comrades, though he quickly forced it back, trying to hide his unease.

The servant’s arrogance remained, until a growl reminded him of the beast that chased him all this time.

Fur matted with dirt, leaves, and splats of monster blood.

Blue eyes gleamed as he padded forward, dragging a struggling, terrified human in his jaws.

With a strong jerk of his head, the wolf tossed the human to the ground before the servant, his fangs bared and eyes aimed at their throat.

The servant involuntarily flinched back, his face paling as Warriors stepped into view. The captain’s gaze was cold, and he glanced between the servant and its cowering ally.

“So,” Warriors remarked, his tone dripping with mockery, “these are the allies you seemed so confident about?” He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

The servant’s arrogance faltered, but he tried to steel himself, shifting back to his human guise, though the nervous gleam in his eyes betrayed him.

Hyrule took a step closer, his sword still aimed directly at the servant’s chest, his expression as cold and unforgiving as stone.

“Last chance,” Hyrule said, his voice dangerously calm. “Where is the girl you kidnapped? Tell me, or you’ll meet a worse fate than your comrades.”

The servant’s eyes darted to the still faces of the severed monster heads, a flicker of fear breaking through his composure. But he kept his mouth shut, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Hyrule’s gaze sharpened, and without a word, he gave a small nod to Wolfie. With a low growl, the wolf lunged forward and tore into the human’s neck, savagely tearing a chunk off without hesitation.

Blood soaked the ground, the servant’s face paling as he watched the blood spill out from his convulsing ally.

Warriors, expression unchanging, approached and swiftly ended the human’s suffering with a single, decisive strike, his blade piercing their skull with a sickening crunch.

“…huh…I don’t think I got the man’s name.” The servant heard him mutter.

Hyrule turned his gaze back to the servant, his eyes cold and unyielding. “Now, one last time,” he said, his voice as frigid as the air around them. “Where is she?”

The servant swallowed hard, his confidence shattered as he stared at the heroes surrounding him.

The servant swallowed hard, his once-defiant smirk twisting into something more uncertain as he glanced between Hyrule’s cold gaze and the lifeless body of his ally sprawled at his feet. His voice trembled as he stammered, “Y-You… you can’t kill me if you want to know where the girl is!”

A low, menacing snarl rumbled through the clearing as Wolfie’s blue eyes fixed on the servant, his teeth bared, each slow step forward an unspoken threat.

The servant’s confidence wavered further, his eyes widening as Wolfie came closer, fangs glinting in the dim light.

“Wolfie. Stand down,” came Time’s calm, commanding voice.

Wolfie stopped, his growl still low in his throat, but he didn’t take his eyes off the servant. The monster let out a shaky, nervous laugh, attempting to cling to what little advantage he thought he had.

“If you want to know where she is,” the servant said, his voice wavering but laced with a weak, desperate arrogance, “you’ll have to let me live. I’ll tell you nothing if I’m dead.”

The heroes exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable, while the servant’s feeble laughter echoed in the silence. He thought he’d secured his leverage, convinced he’d forced their hand.

But Hyrule’s gaze remained icy, unbothered by the servant’s feigned confidence, as if weighing his options with a detached patience that only unnerved the creature further.

Hyrule took a slow, almost unnervingly casual step forward, his eyes fixed on the servant.

There was something unsettling in the way he looked down at the creature, as if he could see right through the guise, peeling back every lie, every trick, and seeing the monster true face beneath.

His sword crackled with magic, the fire creeping down the blade in flickers of light that danced in the darkened forest.

“You know, I’ve spent most of my time as a Hero being hunted by creatures like you,” Hyrule murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet each word seemed to linger, chilling the air. “Monsters that crawl out from under Ganon’s shadow, pretending to be human, to be kind. Just so they can hunt me down. They play their little games, slipping into disguises, deceiving… lying.” His gaze seemed to bore into the servant’s soul. “You’re all the same, thinking it’ll hide the fact that you won’t stop until my corpse is presented to your master.

He frowned further, “But despite your efforts I’m still alive. So do you really think I’ll just take your words at face value?”

The servant’s sneer faltered, but he quickly forced an arrogant grin, clinging to his act. “You need me,” he said, his voice wavering. “If you want to see the girl again, you’ll let me leave. I’m the only one who knows where she is.”

But as he spoke, a presence appeared behind him, and his bravado wavered. Legend approached with a calm, cold demeanor, his gaze fixed on the servant as he tapped one of his ring covered fingers against the ice rod in his hand, a slow, rhythmic motion that seemed to echo through the silence.

The servant’s grin faded entirely as Legend circled him, finally coming to stand before him, his eyes hard and unreadable. The faint clink of his ring tapping against the ice rod was the only sound.

“Clever plan,” Legend said, his voice low and calm, a chill lacing each word. “Planting your human allies to provoke the monsters, stirring things up just enough to create chaos.” He tilted his head, his gaze unwavering as he continued tapping his finger on the ice rod. “And then, of course, there’s you. Waiting until just the right moment to take her, knowing she’s important to us.”

He looked and nodded towards Hyrule, “I can see why you consider them a threat and nuisance.”

The servant’s arrogant expression crumbled further, but he kept his jaw clenched, his eyes darting between Hyrule’s unsettling stare and Legend’s cold gaze.

“And did you genuinely think,” Legend continued, his voice as sharp as a blade, “that we wouldn’t have considered the possibility? That we wouldn’t be prepared for one of Ganon’s creatures trying to steal her away?”

Legend’s voice trailed off, his cold, unblinking gaze fixed on the servant, who was now visibly shaken, his confident facade crumbling under the weight of Hyrule’s unsettling stare and Legend’s calm, piercing words.

The servant’s arrogance faltered as his breathing quickened, his eyes darting desperately, looking for any escape.

Then, a sudden rustle caught Wolfie’s attention. His ears perked up, his gaze shifting past the servant, alert and focused.

Just then, Wind’s voice cut through the silence, the young hero sprinting toward the group. Sky followed closely behind, slightly breathless as he called out, “We found out where she is!”

The servant’s face paled, panic flashing across his features as the words registered in his head. His eyes snapped back to Hyrule and Legend, who watched him with a deadly calm.

“Seems you’ve lost your leverage,” Hyrule murmured, his tone low and almost mocking, a faint, unnerving smile tugging at his lips.

Legend, still tapping his ring-less finger against the ice rod, allowed a slow, grim smile to creep onto his face. Without another word, he raised the rod, cold energy shimmering in his hand as he prepared to freeze the creature in his tracks.

But the servant’s eyes gleamed with a final, desperate resolve.

Just as Legend began to cast, the servant raised his hand, whispering the incantation under his breath. With a surge of magic, light burst around him in a blinding flash.

The heroes recoiled, squinting against the glow, which began to shift erratically, crackling with strange, distorted energy.

A strange, twisted sound echoed through the forest, a dissonant hum that grew louder until it abruptly cut off.

As the light faded, silence fell over the clearing once more. The servant was gone.

But lying on the ground where he’d stood, blood pooling around it, was a severed arm, its fingers still twitching, the botched remnants of a teleportation spell gone horribly wrong.

“Well…” Wild says as he puts his bow away. “That was unfortunate.”

“You think he’s still alive somewhere?” Twilight asks, having shifted back.

“Perhaps, but with an injury like that? Not for long. Then again it is a monster.” Warriors mutters as Wind and Sky approach.

“You said you located her?” Time asks, moving the discussion to the most important matter.

Sky nods, “Four is currently looking for a way in as the entrance has been sealed off.”

“It’s a distance away, it’ll take a while to reach there.”

“Then we best make haste. Let’s move.”

——-

——-

The group regrouped with Four at the edge of the dense forest, where he was examining the cracked stones and charred remains of what must have been an ancient entryway, the dungeon a distance away.

Four looked up, his expression serious. “The entrance to the dungeon was destroyed,” he reported, nodding toward the rubble. “Sealed with magic. Something powerful must have triggered it. I couldn’t find a direct way in, but I took note of some lingering trails. They lead down toward a back path.”

The others exchanged glances, concern etched on their faces. If the entrance was blocked, it left her with few options for escape.

After some quick discussion, they moved together, heading toward the ruins of the dungeon’s entrance, their steps quickening with urgency.

But as they neared the foot of the crumbling stairway, a soft glow appeared above the dungeon entrance, illuminating the darkness with a gentle, pulsing light.

They halted, watching in stunned silence as the ball of light floated down to rest on the ground, growing brighter for a moment before it faded.

And there, standing in its place, was (Y/N), blinking and rubbing her eyes as though adjusting to the sudden light.

“(Y/N)!” Wind exclaimed, breaking the spell of shock. In a heartbeat, they all rushed to her, their expressions a mix of relief and astonishment.

Hyrule’s eyes filled with worry as he reached for her shoulders to steady her, while Wild checked for any signs of injury.

“Are you alright?” Time asked, his voice heavy with concern. “Are you hurt?”

(Y/N) looked a bit dazed but managed a tired smile. “I’m okay. I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

Without hesitation, they led her away from the dungeon’s ominous entrance, moving quickly to distance themselves from any potential threats still lurking within.

Hyrule scanned the area ahead until he spotted a small, concealed cave where they could rest. Once inside, he knelt beside her, carefully tending to the scratches and bruises she’d collected, while Wild rummaged through his pack, pulling out a flask of water and a prepared bowl of food, pressing both into her hands.

“Here, you must be starving,” Wild said softly, watching as she gratefully accepted.

As she ate, they gathered around her, their curiosity mixed with lingering concern. Time was the first to speak up. “How did you escape? What happened in there?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath, steadying herself as she recalled her journey. “It was… something alright,” she admitted, a slight shiver in her voice. “The dungeon had rooms filled with monsters, and I couldn’t fight them, so I had to sneak around and hide. It was nerve-wracking, but I managed to make my way through.”

“Wait…” Four said, eyes furrowed, “But I made you a spear, and I know Legend had it charmed to shrink.”

(y/n) hesitated, “It…” she sighed, “It broke a week ago when I was practicing with it.”

“What??”

“Well you guys kept saying you were busy and I wanted to practice-“

“Your weapon broke and you didn’t TELL me? You’ve been walking around without a way to defend yourself this whole time??” Four had not spent weeks having arguments with everyone in regards to her training just for her NOT to have one of his weapons at hand.

“I’m sorry. I was stupid I didn’t think it would matter if I held back on telling you for a week or two.”

Four’s mouth was in a firm line, as if he was withholding a scream, all he did was wave his hand at her.

(y/n) ducked her head, knowing exactly what he was motioning to.

This whole situation was really making her eat her words.

The others listened, exasperated and frustrated, but very grateful she’d made it out despite her lack of weapons and combat skills.

“What about the dungeon boss?” Warriors asked suddenly, brows knit in confusion. “No doubt there had been one. How did you get past it?”

(Y/N) paused, looking genuinely puzzled. “That’s the thing… when I finally reached the main chamber, it was already dead. It was just…lying there, slowly vanishing.”

Their expressions were as confused as her’s, before any of them could ask further, (Y/N) reached into her pouch and pulled out a small, shining object.

“Oh, and there’s this,” she added, holding up a heart container, its faint glow illuminating the cave.

She looked down at it, her brow furrowing in thought. “I have no idea what to do with this.”

“. . .”

“…I’m gonna keep it though.”

Sighs, both fond and exasperated were heard all around the group.

———

———

The servant reappeared in a flash, collapsing onto his knees, his single remaining hand clutching the bloody stump of his severed arm. Pain seared through him, and he gritted his teeth, rage twisting his face as he spat out curses between gasping breaths.

“Those cursed heroes,” he snarled, his voice trembling with fury and agony. “I swear… I’ll have my vengeance… they’ll all pay for this…”

He took several deep breaths, steadying himself, and finally lifted his head, blinking through the pain as he tried to orient himself.

The world around him was dark, an eerie emptiness stretching in every direction. Shadows flickered along unseen walls, as though he had stumbled into another dimension entirely. Confusion mingled with his fury as he turned in place, searching for any sign of familiarity

“Is this…?”

Then, he froze.

In the darkness, a pair of glowing eyes appeared, twin points of orange light that pierced through the shadows and fixed on him with an unsettling intensity.

The servant jerked back in surprise, scrambling backward and landing hard on his back, his pulse racing as he looked up at the figure hovering in the air before him.

It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Their head was a carved pumpkin, hollow eyes glowing with an eerie light that pulsed with every subtle movement.

A jagged grin was carved into the pumpkin’s face, creating an unnervingly cheerful expression.

The figure was draped in a loosely flowing tunic, dark fabric adorned with faint, shimmering patterns that seemed to ripple as they floated in the air. Their arms, slender but steady, rested on their stomach as their shoulders shook with silent laughter.

Their entire being exuded a mischievous energy, a playful malice that somehow felt both childlike and ancient.

They leaned back as if reclining on air, their form bobbing slightly as if suspended by invisible threads. Their mirthful shaking only added to the strange, almost surreal image.

The servant’s breath caught in his throat, unable to process what he was seeing. He’d encountered many dark creatures in Ganon’s service, but this… this was something else entirely. Theirs eyes, those glowing, mirthful eyes, seemed to see right through him, dissecting him with a kind of glee that bordered on predatory.

The pumpkin headed figure tilted their head, their jagged grin widening as their laughter finally bubbled forth in a soft, airy sound that echoed strangely in the darkened space.

They didn’t speak, but the amusement in their eyes was clear as they watched him struggle, drinking in his fear and confusion with a curiosity.

The servant scrambled backward, his remaining hand trembling as he pointed at the strange figure hovering before him. “Who… who are you?” he demanded, his voice wavering, a hint of desperation breaking through his anger. “What are you?”

The pumpkin headed figure tilted their head, their glowing eyes narrowing in mischievous delight. They giggled, a high, distorted sound that echoed through the darkened void, seeming to bounce off invisible walls. Leaning forward, they tapped a finger to the carved jagged smile on their face, as if they were contemplating his question.

“Ohhh, naughty servant,” They crooned, their voice echoed strangely, like two voices layered atop each other. “So naughty to try and harm her. You put my precious [WARMTH], in danger.” Their voice shifted, soft yet carrying that haunting dual echo. The distorted voice almost seemed to hiss, as if they were sharing a secret. “She’s [LIGHT] and my home, my dearest friend, my lovely [WARMTH/HEART].”

The servant’s confusion deepened, and his face twisted with frustration. “What are you babbling about? Who, who is this…whatever noise you just made!”

The figure giggled again, spinning lazily in the air as they floated closer, their hollow, glowing eyes fixed on him. “Silly servant, doesn’t know, doesn’t see,” they hummed, tapping their chin thoughtfully. “Always hiding, always creeping, always causing trouble for my dear, my [HOME], my [WARMTH].” Their tone turned almost sing-song, as though they were teasing him with a secret he would never understand.

The servant’s face twisted in anger, though he couldn’t hide the hint of fear creeping into his gaze. He clutched his severed arm, his voice faltering. “Are you with those heroes? You dare mock me, Iwas doing Ganon’s will! Soon he will-“

“Ohhh,” They interrupted, their voice dipping into a mocking sing song, the distorted tone stretching the words while the familiar undercurrent resonated with a warmth that felt misplaced. “Hiding behind big, scary names doesn’t make you any less naughty.” They floated closer, their form drifting effortlessly.

“And Naughty Master’s orders or not, you tried to hurt her, tried to scare my precious warmth.” Their eyes glowed brighter, a spark of something darker flaring within them. “I can’t just let that slide.”

They leaned in, their glowing eyes inches from his face, their voice dropping to a near-static filled whisper. “Now, little servant… what shall we do with someone so naughty?”

The servant stumbled back.

“I know…” they said, “let’s have you help me hm?”

The servant blinked, disoriented, as he found himself suddenly in another room, the dim light casting twisted shadows along the walls.

The air was thick, almost oppressive, and he couldn’t remember how he had arrived here. His breath hitched as he turned, only to find the floating figure nearby, watching him in eerie silence.

“Show me how to solve it,” they said, their voice a strange layering of two tones, one gentle and cheerful, the other distorted, dissonant.

The servant sneered, regaining a shred of his confidence. “I don’t answer to you,” he spat, turning away defiantly. “Figure it out yourself.”

But as he moved, he could feel them watching him. He dared a glance back, and his stomach dropped. The jagged, carved grin on their pumpkin head seemed to have stretched wider than before, an unnatural curve that seemed to swallow the lower half of their face.

Their eyes, once soft glows within the hollows, had shrunk to tiny, piercing pinpricks that stared at him with an intensity that made his skin crawl.

He blinked, hoping it was a trick of the dim light. But when he looked again, the effect had only deepened.

The sockets of their eyes seemed to darken, stretching back into an endless abyss that held an unnerving, hungry stillness. The light in their gaze flickered, almost pulsing, as if feeding off his growing dread.

A cold sweat broke out on the servant’s skin as he tried to tear his gaze away, but he couldn’t look away from that monstrous face, which seemed to shift and distort the longer he stared.

It was as though the very room had warped around them, a quiet darkness that coiled and thickened, trapping him in place.

The servant’s defiance wavered, his breath coming faster. But they didn’t move.

They only tilted their head, their hollow gaze boring into him, as though daring him to defy them again. The silence pressed in, each beat of his heart growing louder, his confidence dissolving when the figure raised their arm and tapped his chest with an unnaturally long clawed finger.

“ShOw mE hOw To soLVe IT,” they repeated, their voice barely a whisper now, yet somehow suffocating, filling the space like smoke. The words echoed, seeming to layer over themselves, wrapping around him like chains.

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. “Fine… fine.”

they drifted silently beside the servant as he begrudgingly explained how to navigate each of the dungeon’s treacherous rooms.

With every riddle and hidden switch, he muttered instructions, glancing nervously at the eerie figure hovering by his side.

Occasionally, after several rooms, they would vanish without a word, leaving him alone with nothing but the chilling memory of their carved, jagged grin.

But just as his nerves would settle, they would reappear, as though stepping out from the shadows themselves, their eyes glowing faintly.

“Show me how to solve the next room,” they would say, their voice reverberating in that unsettling, dual echo that burrowed into his mind like an unwanted memory.

And each time, he would comply, clinging to the hope that if he obeyed, they might eventually let him go.

Finally, they reached the last chamber. The servant glanced around, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

This had to be it. He’d played along long enough, solved all their little puzzles. He turned to them, glaring as he clenched his remaining fist.

“You’ve gotten what you wanted,” he demanded, his voice filled with simmering anger. “Now let me go.”

They tilted their head, that carved smile widening as a soft, mirthful giggle echoed through the chamber. It was as if the laugh was layered over itself, a mockery threaded with something darker. “Oh… you really thought you could just leave?”

The servant’s face contorted with fury. “You tricked me!” he spat, his voice rising with fury. “You miserable, hollow headed freak!” His insults grew more vicious as he cursed them, his voice echoing through the chamber.

But his words died in his throat when the ground beneath his feet began to rumble.

Dust and debris shook loose from the ceiling, and he stumbled backward, wide eyed, as a massive, hulking shadow fell from the darkness above, landing with a thunderous crash in the center of the room.

The creature was monstrous, twisted and grotesque, with layers of spiked armor and muscles rippling beneath jagged scales.

Its eyes glowed with a vicious, crimson light, and it let out a deafening roar, revealing several rows of razor sharp teeth that gleamed like jagged stones in its massive maw.

The servant’s anger turned to elation, a twisted grin spreading across his face as he took in the sight of the monstrous creature. “Yes!” he laughed, loud and triumphant. “This beast was born from Master Ganon’s lingering power! I can feel it!! It was born to obey me, one of Ganon’s own loyal servants!”

He threw his arm out in a commanding gesture, confidence flooding back into his voice as he began to order the creature.

“Attack that thing! Tear it apart!” he commanded, pointing directly at the still, floating form., who only watched him with that unnervingly wide grin, unmoving.

But before the servant could finish his command, the beast turned with shocking speed, its eyes locking onto him instead. In a single, fluid motion, it surged toward him, its enormous jaws opening wide.

The servant’s face only had a single moment to twist in horror as the creature’s mouth closed around him, those jagged teeth sinking into his flesh, tearing into him with savage force.

His scream echoed through the chamber, swallowed up in an instant as the beast shook him like prey, his body limp and helpless in its grip.

Through it all, the spirit hovered in place, their carved grin wide and still, a flicker of amusement in their hollow eyes as they watched the scene unfold.

They hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken. They simply watched, silent and smiling, as the servant’s desperate cries faded into nothingness.

The beast devoured the servant, its monstrous jaws crunching through bone and flesh until there was nothing left. It let out a low, satisfied growl, blood dripping from its maw as it turned its gaze toward the figure still hovering nearby.

Not!(y/n) simply giggled, an amused, lilting sound that echoed strangely through the chamber. The beast let out another roar and charged at them, its heavy, clawed feet pounding against the ground with enough force to shake the stone beneath them.

But as the beast lunged, jaws wide, Not!(y/n) raised their hand in a casual, almost bored gesture, waving their hand upward as if lifting something delicate.

The massive creature was suddenly pulled up into the air, its charge halted mid stride as it dangled helplessly, limbs thrashing in vain.

“Silly creature,” Not!(y/n) chuckled, their voice echoing in that eerie, doubled tone. “You need to go away now.”

They extended their hand, fingers splayed, and slowly began to close it into a fist.

The beast writhed, its roars growing more frantic, louder, as an invisible force seemed to constrict it from within.

Muscles strained, scales cracked, and the creature’s once menacing snarls turned into desperate screams as Not!(y/n)’s hand continued to close.

With a gentle pulling motion, they clenched their fist, and a pulsing orb of energy, the beast’s core, was ripped from its body.

The creature let out a final, agonized roar as its core was torn free, leaving it a lifeless shell. Not!(y/n) released their grip, and both the core and the creature’s massive body fell to the ground with a heavy, echoing thud.

The chamber fell silent, save for the faint hum of energy from the discarded core. Not!(y/n) hummed to themselves, floating in a whimsical motion, their hands clasped behind their back as they bobbed up and down, as if enjoying a gentle breeze.

With a lighthearted twirl, they turned to face the dungeon’s main door. The twisted grin on their pumpkin face remained fixed as the door slowly creaked open.

As they faded into the shadows, (Y/N) stumbled through the now open doorway, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim light.

—————

————

—————

Hours had passed, and the cave was quiet, save for the soft crackle of a small fire and the occasional shifting of the heroes as they kept watch.

(Y/N) lay on her bed mat, wrapped in fresh bandages and dressed in a change of clothes, her breathing soft and even as she slept, the day’s trials finally catching up with her.

Some of the group rested near her, their eyes heavy with exhaustion, while others sat farther away, keeping vigilant watch over the cave entrance, ensuring no threats would disturb her rest.

In the dim light, a faint shadow appeared, barely more than a whisper against the cave walls. The figure drifted closer, moving soundlessly over the ground until they reached (Y/N)’s side.

The softest of chuckles echoed, and the shadow leaned down, an almost tender touch as a faint hand reached out, patting her head with a gentleness that seemed strangely out of place.

Not!(Y/N) twirled in slow, whimsical circles above her, their form flickering and fading in and out of the dim light, as if dancing to a melody only they could hear.

Their shoulders shaking as silent giggles escaped them, as they watched over her for a long, quiet moment.

Then, just as silently as they had appeared, they faded back into the shadows, vanishing completely.

None of the heroes stirred, none awake aware of the brief visit that had happened.

And (y/n) slept on.

[elguritch-art]

Compilation of my Elden Ring Tarnished OC, Silfr + some Lore info for new followers because of my last post! :'D

Silfr, the Dragonblooded | No Pronouns (Just use Silfr or Tarnished, Silfr responds to both!) | 7'4" Tall

A tall, towering, silent figure that stalks the dim halls of Roundtable and other places that Tarnished gather, Silfr is not one to make friends or forge close alliances.

The puffs of smokes between breaths when others catch Silfr lowering the mask to speak softly to the blacksmiths, the oddly slitted pupil peering out from behind the dark hood, Silfr gained the nickname of "Dragonblooded" through such strange mannerisms and features, with whispers of partaking in Dragon Communion being a suspected idea of such oddities, though the truth is something far darker, that Silfr keeps tucked deep away out of sight.

Character Notes + Lore Details Below:

Silfr is selective mute, very rarely speaks, more frequently just growls and makes bestial noises to communicate along with staring and body language.

Silfr's body was originally the size of a normal Tarnished, and wore many signs of battle and pain, such as the left eye originally being blind for example. Each Dragon Heart consumed gives Silfr strength and grows in size, and repairs the borrowed body further, but Silfr keeps the eyepatch even after the left eye was returned for comfort.

Draconic traits come and go with emotions or in combat, gains horns, larger clawed hands, and more prominent scaling. The tail always remains though.

Silfr will at some point become an unholy abomination of Draconic flesh, but will not become a Magma Wyrm like most dragon communion members! Silfr will be a towering monstrosity somewhere between a Magma Wyrm, Dragonkin Soldier, and true Dragon, and at this point would absolutely be considered a Boss.

A profaned desperate ritual of the Dragon Cult through a pregnant cultist forced to partake in dragon communion, only to then be sacrificed to birth a stillborn, draconic child is where Silfr begins, though not truly in the form Silfr takes now. The Dragon Cult, desperate to recall their ancient Dragon God back to the Lands Between, chose to call on their magics and priests to find a body of an unnamed warrior, and transfer the soul of the stillborn Dragon God into the new vessel.

Silfr is what woke up. Revered and praised for something Silfr did not understand, memories a haze of new and old, belonging and foreign, Silfr only knows that the Cult believes to have rebirthed their Dragon God into a physical vessel. And in time, Silfr would grow into the birthright of said God, taking on the draconic form of old.

Silfr wanted none of the worship and "destined birthright" spoken of daily. So Silfr fled at the first opportunity, donning black hoods and robes to obscure the draconic features left over, and roams the Lands Between.

And despite this, the call of this "destined birthright", be the Cult right or wrong of the truth of this "Dragon God", left an echoing void in Silfr's stomach. One that only is sated by the roar of battle, the flame building in a throat, the taste of a fresh dragon heart between lips. Silfr chases the call, hunting down dragon after dragon, eating heart after heart, regardless of where it will end.

It's all Silfr knows.