#the enigma shifters

[kayakin064]

Made my avatars christmas outfits. (Regular winter outfits may vary)

Mika is Santa, RGB is the elf and Shifter is the reindeer.

[thevellaunderground]

Apocaleptika: The Complete Universe

by Alexa Raven (Author) As posted by the author on Kindle Vella. In the year 2023, by the will of the people, the sprawling metropolis once known as Los Angeles underwent a transformation. Through a momentous and unprecedented event, the city was renamed, emerging as Apocaleptika. Within this city are creatures of legend, Angels, Demons, Fae, Vampires, Shifters, Witches, Enigma and Hybrids.…

[premiumbitch]

THINGS TO MANIFEST -JENNIFER CHECK THEMED PACK ! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

hi luvs! I decided I'd make this jennifer check themed pack for people who want to manifest themselves to be a completely different person, someone they will feel confident to be! also for the amazing shifters who can script this about themselves! enjoy :)

⋆⛧┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈⛧⋆

BEAUTY ♡ //

Your face is delicate yet haunting, like an old Hollywood starlet from a tragic love story.

Your eyes are dreamy and melancholic, holding secrets of past lives and lost loves.

Your lips are full, soft, and slightly parted, as if you’re always whispering poetry.

Your skin is porcelain-like, glowing under the golden hour sun, kissed by nostalgia.

Your hair is effortlessly romantic, cascading in soft waves or tied with a satin ribbon.

Your eyelashes are long and fluttery, giving you a permanently wistful gaze.

Your cheekbones are high and sculpted, as if you belong in a vintage film.

Your nails are always polished in soft reds, nudes, or classic French tips, the definition of elegance.

Your perfume is intoxicating, a mix of vanilla, roses, and cigarette smoke lingering in the air.

Your eyeliner is slightly smudged, like you’ve been crying over poetry in a dimly lit room.

Your beauty is vintage, ethereal, and tragic, like a love song from the '50s.

Your lips look like they’ve been kissed under neon motel lights, soft and sinful.

Your freckles, if you have them, look like they belong in a faded Polaroid picture.

Your aesthetic is cinematic—you don’t just look beautiful, you look like a story waiting to be told.

You are the embodiment of tragic beauty—soft, vulnerable, yet untouchable.

AURA ♡ //

Your aura is nostalgic, like an old love letter found in an attic.

You carry the energy of a woman who has loved deeply and suffered beautifully.

People can’t tell if you’re heartbroken or if you just love the sadness of it all.

You are the muse for artists, poets, and lost souls who don’t even know your name.

Your energy feels like a late-night drive with the windows down, a cigarette burning, and music playing softly in the background.

You are soft but not weak, romantic but not naive.

You look like you belong in a black-and-white film, staring longingly out of a train window.

People become addicted to your sadness, wanting to fix you but never quite being able to.

Your presence feels like a faded love song, echoing in an empty ballroom.

You move through life like you’re part of a tragic novel, always chasing a love that never stays.

You seem like you belong to another era, a ghost of the golden age of romance.

You exist in the space between dreams and reality, never quite fully in one or the other.

Your energy is intoxicating, like the taste of cherry cola and the smell of an old leather jacket.

You romanticize everything, even pain, turning heartbreak into art.

You are the kind of woman people write songs about but never truly understand.

SMARTS ♡ //

You speak in poetry, turning even simple thoughts into something beautiful.

You know literature, art, and music like they’re old friends.

You can analyze a love song like it’s a sacred text.

You understand people deeply but let them misunderstand you.

You see the world in metaphors, turning pain into poetry and sadness into symphonies.

You are highly self-aware, knowing your own patterns but unable to change them.

You can quote Nabokov, Plath, and Fitzgerald effortlessly, as if their words are woven into your soul.

You are emotionally intelligent, sensing when people are lying even before they realize it themselves.

You can fall in love with an idea more than a person, addicted to the fantasy rather than the reality.

You play the role people want you to play, but deep down, you’re always in control.

You are an enigma—people think they know you, but they only know the version of you that you let them see.

You are both wise and naive, knowing better yet still diving headfirst into beautiful disasters.

You understand the power of mystery, revealing just enough to keep people coming back.

You are both deeply introspective and wildly imaginative, creating entire worlds inside your mind.

You could be a philosopher, a poet, or a rockstar in another life.

PERSONALITY ♡ //

You love love, even when it destroys you.

You believe in fate, soulmates, and the kind of love that exists in old Hollywood films.

You are the type to send love letters instead of texts, even if they never get sent.

You are drawn to men who are no good for you, the ones with sad eyes and even sadder stories.

You are soft-spoken but full of passion, your voice like a lullaby with a dark undertone.

You love the aesthetic of danger but only from a safe distance.

You are both fragile and untouchable, like a rose made of glass.

You feel things deeply, as if every emotion is a storm passing through you.

You believe that sadness is beautiful, that pain is poetic.

You are fiercely loyal, but only to those who deserve it.

You love the thrill of the unknown, romanticizing what you can’t have.

You are a hopeless romantic but also a realist, knowing that love can be both magic and tragedy.

You carry your heartbreaks like trophies, reminders of the love you were brave enough to feel.

You have an old soul, drawn to jazz, blues, and stories from decades before you were born.

You are the dream girl, the tragic heroine, the beautiful disaster that people can’t help but worship.

hope you guys enjoyed! requests are appreciated! lmk if you want anything! <3

[jcollinswrites]

Narmer (m) is a man in his late thirties. He led several successful military campaigns to liberate and unify Egypt. For that, most people think of him as a fierce, unyielding protector of the kingdom, but his unbending attitude has earned him a lot of enemies as well. In his private moments, he tends to be a soft-spoken, gentle person. He's very tall, with a strong, muscular build, due to two decades of harsh military service. He most often shaves his light brown hair to the scalp. He has heavily freckled, golden brown skin with countless of scars, and very dark brown, almost black eyes.

Qenna (selectable gender m/f) seems to be a living enigma with their dubious role in the royal palace, and secretive background. At first glance, they look to be somewhere between thirty and forty, but it's hard to tell. They tend to talk a lot, but never about themselves. Despite their self-destructive tendencies, the king relies on them a lot, and seems to hold them in relatively high regard. They are on the shorter side of average height, with messy, dark hair. Their skin is a deep sandy brown with darker circles around their hazel eyes.

Zaia (selectable gender m/f, genderfluid) is Qenna's guardian spirit with a lightning essence. Like most spirits, Zaia is not overly social, preferring to turn invisible when they don't want being talked to. Zaia and Qenna have a bickering sibling-like relationship. Their exact age is unknown even to them. They are a shape-shifter, but they prefer to appear as a person of lean build, with average height, and caramel brown skin. Their hair reaches the middle of their back in dark, loose curls. Their eyes are matte and dark, entirely devoid of life.

Tabiry (f) is a medjay who used to serve as a royal bodyguard, but she recently gave up the position to be able to spend more time with her family. She is a dependable, hardworking woman in her late twenties. With lean, carefully built muscles, she is a force to be reckoned with. She likes to keep a manicured appearance with colorful makeup that compliments her dark skin, and she wears her long hair in jeweled braids. Off-duty, she doesn't have an intimidating presence with her above average height, but in armor, she's very hard to ignore.

Ahmose (selectable gender m/f) is Narmer's 18 year old child. They are still looking for their own path through life, especially regarding their own future. Ahmose is highly educated, very curious, and a generally cheerful person. They have a good relationship with their father despite the latter's lack of time for them, and they think of Qenna as the member of their family. They are tall in height, have a lean and athletic physique, wavy brown hair, golden skin, and a dazzling smile.

Non-romanceable main characters:

Hudjefa (m) (for priest origin only)

Hudjefa is the man that was… not exactly a father figure for you when you were a child because he's only a decade older than you, but maybe a big brother figure. He taught you most of what you know in your profession, and he also taught you how to be a much better person than what you were set out for before you came to his temple.

Petepihu 'Pihu' (f) (for child of the vizier origin only)

Ah, dear Pihu. Your older sister has always been the bane of your existence. With her delightfully arrogant personality, you two have never quite gotten along. Fortunately, ever since she moved in with her husband, the Theban governor, she has become a lot less present in your life. The distance definitely helped mellow your relationship into what you would call 'tolerance'.

Nedjemut (f) (for captain origin only)

Nedjemut is your biological mother. She is a tough, no-nonsense woman whose attitude left a mark on you as well when you were a child. Fortunately, the warmth she could never give you was compensated by her wife's nurturing and cheerful nature. When Nedjemut lost an arm in the line of duty, she was forced into an early retirement and you inherited her position as Captain of the Theban Guard.

Ramesses 'Sesi' (m) (for thief origin only)

Sesi is your childhood friend, your occasional partner-in-crime, and you two have a sibling-like relationship. You grew up on the same street with a gaggle of other children, yet he is the only one you still keep in contact with. He is around the same age as you, has short brown hair, and dark eyes. He is very thin, although he started getting a bit stronger ever since he started working as a courier.

For help with pronunciations, visit this link.

[cs-fox]

Same anon with more of Sammy/Ghost thoughts

This cycle continues, Sammy comes and goes each evening and each morning, and maybe someone else on 141 knows about it but doesn’t tell reader. And then it just spreads to the rest of the team and reader KNOWS something is up now because I bet it would go on for a hot second before reader makes any connections(not that they’re clueless.. but just because they’re human and Ghost is a whole enigma himself)

So maybe reader talks about Sammy in front of the taskforce for something to yap about, maybe on the way to a mission or something and has pictures of Sammy and shows them and Ghost is just bug-eyeing the pictures OF HIMSELF AS A CAT and is trying to hide it from reader

‘F-fuck,’ you mumbled, squinting into the darkness. ‘Sammy?’

‘Mrrrrow…’ you sighed with relief. That commotion you’d heard in the kitchen was nothing to worry about… even though it seemed much too large of a disturbance to be made by a cat.

Small footsteps padded their way to you, and warm fur brushed against your bare leg.

You checked your watch. 0340.

‘Well, I’m up now,’ you grumbled, stretching and stumbling into the kitchen to make a cuppa.

Mission briefing was in five hours, you stewed, as tea burnt your already chapped top lip. That was enough time to get in some last-minute pull ups and stretches.

‘Ugh…’

Sammy leapt up onto the counter and you set your three-quarter empty mug in front of him. The tortoiseshell’s tongue flicked out to lap up the bitter liquid, amber eyes following you as you moved to change into your workout gear.

//

Eight hours later, you’re on a plane, sandwiched in between your Lieutenant and Sergeant. The dark-haired and bright-eyed Scot was attempting to talk your ear off when you brought up the subject of your… pet.

As you started to speak, barely even before the name Sammy had fully left your lips, you felt your Lieutenant twitch. Mustn’t like cats, you thought dismissively, but there was a furtive look in his eyes when he glanced at Price, your captain.

‘Show us some photos, lass,’ the Scottish werewolf grinned.

You obliged, pulling out your phone and displaying some of the few pictures you’d taken of the animal. You couldn’t help but notice Ghost’s sudden interest in the laces of his boots.

‘Pure dead brilliant,’ Soap chuckled, a strange glint in his eye. ‘What’d yeh say ‘is name was?’

‘Sammy.’

‘Cute.’

//

‘Isn’t tha’ righ’, Sammy?’

You flinched as Soap’s voice crackled through team comms, you’d been focusing on dialling in the sight of your sniper rifle until Ghost’s voice answered.

‘Watch your mouth, sergeant.’

‘Sorry, sir,’ you could practically see Soap’s shit-eating grin. ‘Slip o’ the tongue.’

Ghost grumbled down into his mic, and you lay in your position, cold sweat tricking down your neck.

Your lieutenant… in his file, it read shape-shifter.

No. No, no, no, no….

It was no wonder Sammy liked tea.

[zapreportsblog]

Can you do a Demetri volturi x tall female Human reader

The reader is Jacob's cousin but they do not get along at all. He makes fun at her for being tall. She knows of the supernatural world but does not shift. has martial arts training and does boxing. She is 6ft 5in. She has tan skin and dark brown hair that pass her butt when it's not put up. She is also a retired soldier.

Feel free to add anything else

❝the non shifter❞

✭ pairing : demetri volturi x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is Jacob black non shifter cousin but she knows about the supernatural world that now has become her life suddenly she’s thrown into a whirlpool of feelings when she comes the unexpected mate of demetri volturi who just so happens to be a enemy of her family

✭ twilight masterlist

The quiet town of Forks, nestled in the evergreen forests of Washington, had always been a place of intrigue. Unbeknownst to most of its inhabitants, the supernatural world teemed beneath the surface, hidden in the shadows.

And in the midst of this enigma stood (Y/N), a tall and formidable figure at 6 feet 5 inches. She was Jacob Black's older cousin, an imposing presence, and a retired soldier who had seen her share of battles.

The relationship between (Y/N) and Jacob was less than harmonious. They clashed like fire and ice, rarely seeing eye to eye. Jacob's taunts about her height were met with indifference by (Y/N), whose maturity and composure were unshakable.

She had a presence that commanded respect, not through intimidation, but through an air of self-assurance.

While Jacob had embraced his connection to the supernatural world by shifting into a wolf, (Y/N) had found other ways to protect herself.

She had become skilled in martial arts and boxing, talents that she had honed through years of dedication. She reveled in her abilities, never harboring any resentment over her inability to shift like the Quileute wolves.

One fateful day, (Y/N) decided to pay a visit to the Cullen family, a clan of vampires who had chosen a different path by abstaining from human blood.

It wasn't the first time she had crossed paths with them; over time, they had formed a mutual respect for one another. Upon her arrival, the Cullens welcomed her, aware of her unique skills and experiences.

It wasn't long before (Y/N) found herself bonding with Renesmee, the half-human, half-vampire daughter of Edward and Bella.

Renesmee's curiosity and enthusiasm were a stark contrast to (Y/N)'s stoicism, but the two formed an unexpected connection. (Y/N) began giving boxing lessons to the young hybrid, teaching her how to channel her strength in controlled ways.

But as the days went by, the tranquility of their existence was shattered when the Volturi arrived in Forks. The ancient coven, known for their strict adherence to vampire law, had come to ensure that Renesmee posed no threat to their world.

Among them was Demetri, a skilled tracker with a unique ability to find anyone he sought.

As the Volturi made their presence known, (Y/N) was unfazed. She stood her ground, her unyielding confidence a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air.

It was during this confrontation that Demetri's eyes met (Y/N)'s, and something shifted within him. The world around him seemed to fade as he recognized a connection that transcended his centuries of existence.

In the midst of a potentially volatile encounter, an unexpected bond began to form between (Y/N) and Demetri. Their connection was undeniable, a fusion of strength, experience, and an understanding of the supernatural world that few could comprehend.

And as the days unfolded, (Y/N) found herself entangled in a new chapter of her life, one that held the promise of both danger and unexpected love.

The air crackled with tension as the Volturi delegation confronted the Cullen family. (Y/N) stood by Renesmee's side, her presence unwavering despite the palpable unease that hung in the atmosphere. Demetri's gaze remained fixed on her, his red eyes betraying a curiosity and intensity that he couldn't ignore.

"(Y/N) Black," Aro's melodious voice rang out, drawing her attention. "Such an impressive lineage you have, connected to the Quileute wolves and yet separate from their gift."

"(Y/N)" simply inclined her head, acknowledging his words but not allowing herself to be rattled. She had dealt with her fair share of formidable opponents in her lifetime, and the Volturi were no exception.

As the conversation continued, (Y/N) found herself engaging in a subtle exchange of glances with Demetri. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a recognition of their shared strength and the complexities of the supernatural world. Despite the circumstances, a flicker of something more began to take root.

In the following days, as the tension eased and the Volturi's concerns were allayed, (Y/N) found herself spending more time with Demetri.

Their interactions were punctuated by discussions about their individual histories, the challenges they had faced, and the intricacies of their unique talents. It was a dance of words and emotions that neither of them could entirely resist.

One evening, as the setting sun cast a warm glow over the landscape, (Y/N) and Demetri found themselves alone in the forest. The silence between them was comfortable, unburdened by the need for constant conversation.

And then, as if guided by an unseen force, their hands brushed against each other.

Demetri's gaze met hers, his expression searching, and in that moment, the unspoken connection between them ignited into something undeniable. "You're unlike anyone I've ever met," he admitted, his voice carrying a rare vulnerability.

(Y/N) smiled, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her lips. "Likewise. I've met my fair share of vampires, but you certainly stand out."

The tension that had once defined their relationship began to shift, replaced by a mutual understanding and a growing fondness. It was as if their differences had ceased to matter, replaced by the undeniable pull they felt toward one another.

As days turned into weeks, (Y/N) continued to divide her time between Renesmee's training and her interactions with the Volturi. Her connection with Demetri deepened, their conversations ranging from the weighty matters of the supernatural world to the simplest of shared moments.

One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Demetri took (Y/N) aside. "There's something I want to show you," he said, his eyes holding a mixture of excitement and uncertainty.

Guiding her to a secluded part of the forest, Demetri extended his hand, palm up. "Close your eyes," he instructed, his voice gentle.

(Y/N) complied, feeling a faint pulse of energy as Demetri's power intertwined with her own. In her mind's eye, images began to surface: moments from his past, fragments of his experiences, and the profound loneliness that had been his constant companion.

When (Y/N) opened her eyes, she met Demetri's gaze, a newfound understanding passing between them. It was a gesture of vulnerability and trust, a shared connection that transcended the supernatural world they inhabited.

“Where’d that come from?”

“Renesmee, learnt how to “give people” her power for a few minutes to allow them to share what they see and feel. It was amazing when she first shown me and I knew I had to ask her if I could use it just this once.” Demetri explains.

Their journey had taken an unexpected turn, guiding them toward a connection neither of them had foreseen. In the heart of the supernatural realm, (Y/N) and Demetri found themselves drawn together, their fates intertwined in ways that defied the boundaries of their respective histories.

[xxfaithlynxx]

To Keep You From Breaking

Word Count: 6k (6135)

Warnings: Non-descript SA, Abuse, descriptions of blood, flesh and bodily fluids.

NOT PROOFREAD!

Please DO NOT steal or plagiarize my work. Much appreciated! As always.

Ω ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ Ω

Chapter 4:

“Ori, your father was the Enigma.”

I sat frozen next to him, hearing his words on repeat in my head like an echo over the expanse of a mountainside. My father… had been an Enigma ranked shifter?

My eyes drifted out of focus as I pictured my father’s face. His disarming smile, his bright blue eyes that I had inherited. His infectious laugh, and the way he had always looked at my mother. Hearing him call Cassi and I from out in the yard, playing tag with us, letting us chase him and win. How could that man be the highest-ranking shifter in our world?

I was having one Hell of a time wrapping my head around the idea, but I could sense Sylus sitting there, waiting patiently, but still nervously twiddling his thumbs. If Sylus was telling me the truth… a single thing encompassed my mind through every other hazy trail of thoughts-- how had Ephraim killed my father?

I hadn’t realized I’d said that thought out loud until Sylus touched the back of my hands, hands that had been curling and uncurling atop my thighs. “There might be more to that story than meets the eye, Ori.” With his free hand, he’d brushed his forefinger beneath my chin and tipped my head up, so I had to look directly at him.

My mind was buzzing with thoughts, some I wanted to ask, others zipped by so fast I couldn’t focus on them. All I knew now was that my head hurt, and I had the tower of a man seated on the bed next to me to thank for it. Slipping one hand from beneath his, I prodded two fingers into my left temple, eyes fluttering shut as I groaned. “I have another headache, thank you.”

I felt him move, and a soft chuckle found my ears before I pried open my eyes again, he was standing next to the bed now.

“Here, lay down. I’ll see about making something a little more substantial food wise for you while you rest.” So, he had noticed that I’d barely touched the snacks he’d tossed at me earlier. As he turned away, my eyes fell to his shoulders, rudely reminded of how right before we’d settled on the bed to talk- how he’d gone about rifling through the stacks of clothing before finding a soft brown knit sweater. How he’d idly or potentially on purpose- faced me while he undid all of the belts and leather of the weird half jacket he had on before shucking it off and tossing it aside.

Had he seen how I was damn near drooling?

I shook my head in a quick flick of motion, but the image remained— the image of his completely bare torso. Defined muscles just begging to be touched, sucked, and rosy, pink nipples that had my tongue aching. My traitorous mind had logged that image away to the darker corners of my mind.

I shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts… even if he is a delicacy to the female, and Hell, the male gaze. I sucked my lip between my teeth as my far away gaze landed on him across the room again. These daft eyes, whether I tried or not, always seemed to trail back over to him no matter what I did. Quite frankly, it was beginning to become a tedious game of I Spy with my heart and the feminine urge to climb a certain six-foot-three mountain—which I had never done before!

I’d never had the opportunity to ogle a man before, never gotten the chance to be touched or kissed properly. No one wanted to do those things with a wolf-less, not unless your name was Caleb—but even then, aside from the assaults, I had no experience. But now, here, my body was acting like a hormonal teen! Antsy and fidgety with roaming eyes and a dry mouth. Wanting to touch and be touched alike.

I shook my head and blinked a few times. As a wolf-less… I had no right to a mate, to an Alpha. My eyes scanned over him again, He’s okay with me now, but what about during his rut? Would he seek out a more formidable and appropriate partner? Not that I’d just let him do whatever to me. To be completely honest, I wasn’t even sure why I was having this internal argument with myself! I had no pheromones to worry about, so why was I warring with myself over this?

With his back to me as he stood in front of that kitchenette, I couldn’t tell what exactly he was doing to make whatever he’d said would be more substantial than a few treats, but he cut an amazing figure standing there, and the mildly domestic moment would’ve seemed more appropriate in the moment if we weren’t still down in some dank dungeon. I felt the corner of my mouth lift as I remembered that little bit of information. Having momentarily forgotten that he’d been, more-or-less, ambushed and tossed in here while I’d been exiled to care for him, as Ephraim had put it.

The thought of Ephraim had my father coming back to mind, and the thought of what Sylus had told me making my small smile drop away, replaced by worry and confusion. As my mind roiled with the images and memories, from before his death and after, I felt my chest tighten once again as my breathing picked up a notch. Fuck….

“Sylus…” I could barely hear my own whisper of his name before I felt a crushing weight hover dangerously over my shoulders.

Without thinking, I leaped from the bed and crossed the room, coming up behind him and pressing my face to the center of his back, my arms wrapping around his waist. Recalling how the warmth of his hand had grounded and calmed me earlier when we were sitting in the center of the room. I felt his form tense as I pressed my nose into his shirt, inhaling slowly. There was something about his scent, even with my dull senses that rocketed a balm like sensation through me, I’d noticed it earlier, but thought nothing of it, but now… it was almost like I craved him near me.

In my current state—near tears and grasping at straws so I could calm down, I felt it unnecessary to delve into that particular line of thoughts.

He stood frozen in front of me, but his arms had resumed whatever he’d been doing, which was chopping something on the counter, and then there was the fact that he was humming. I focused on the sound. He wasn’t good, but he wasn’t bad either—what caught my ear, was that the song he was humming sounded familiar. As he continued, I felt the tension in my shoulders begin to recede, and my breathing begin to normalize, and finally I could feel the chill in my chest dissolve away, allowing the warmth I felt seeping into me from his back flood me with a newfound sense of calm.

I think he could sense my growing calm, or maybe it was because my fingers no longer had a death grip on the shirt above his abs, because I felt him shift a bit between my arms before clearing his throat, “Better?”

Without thinking, much like when I’d launched myself at him earlier, I found myself nuzzling into his back. Inhaling him as I did so, making his body tense against me. What the fuck are you doing?!

I froze, eyes snapping open while I quite literally flung myself away from him. A different panic overwhelming me, my consciousness was bouncing from one worst case scenario to another—thinking how he might be about to get angry with me for invading his space or cast me aside as some needy thing not worth anymore time.

I’d always felt comfortable on my own, in my own little bubble—so for me to cling myself against a male, an Alpha no less—was something I’d never foresaw myself doing, ever. “I am so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean… I- please- oh fuck… I’m sorry.” The word vomit just kept coming in soft whimpers and pleas of defeat and awkward mortification. “I wasn’t thinking, I just… you calmed me down before, and I thought… Oh Goddess… fuck, fuck, fuck.” My vision had blurred from the sheer panic setting in. Was I about to get beat? Eaten? Torn apart? I could feel my body quaking where I stood, trembling in place with my head bowed forward and my shoulder length hair pulled off to one side of my neck.

A deathly silence followed as I bit into my lip to shut myself up. This is it… this is where I die, isn’t it.

“Ori…,” His voice was so soft it tore through my terror and nestled over my mind like a warm blanket, “Look at me,” a pause and then the most heartfelt, “please.” Through the cloud of panic, my eyes began to come back into focus, motor functions slipping back into real time as the shivers began to dwindle.

When I caught his gaze through my hair and lashes, his expression nearly broke me. For a man as large and ultimately intimidating as he was, as wide and as tall as a door. Normally glowering expression of aloof, snide boredom— there were now unshed tears near overflowing his waterlines. Slowly soaking through the thick under-lashes. The crimson depths of his iris’ glowed softly, showing that Stayrus had risen to just below the surface, the dark pupils at their centers dilating. I released the breath I’d been holding as his hands slowly inched upward, the slowest I’d seen him move, his gesture clearly meaning he meant no harm. “Never apologize for needing comfort… and please, never again show your neck to me.” His tone shifted, as if the mere thought of me or any other, for that matter, submitting was repugnant to him.

Slowly I straightened and nodded at him. I flinched automatically, but just barely as I felt the backs of his fingers brush over my cheek, a sad almost sob like sound came from deep within his chest before I felt him encircle me with those thick arms and pull me hard against his broad chest, his nose falling to the juncture of my neck and shoulder where he inhaled, hard. “You’ll never have to worry about anything, ever again.” I felt him brush his mouth over my neck, shocking me more by laying a chaste kiss just behind my ear as I heard him whisper, “I’m here now.”

----

After that, Sylus grew about as protective of me as a mother hen over her chicks. Part of me enjoyed it, while another smaller part of me despised it from the depths of my soul.

It’s been a few days; things hadn’t changed much. We had the dungeon to ourselves, where we joked, talked and I piddled about trying to figure out something to do without going to the surface. Late that third evening, he’d jolted up from his seat beside the wooden bedframe and hushed me when I’d asked him what was wrong.

“Stay here, please, don’t move.” He’d shifted me so I was laying down in the bed facing the cage, as he tossed over the burlap blanket he’d fashioned out of the potato sack I’d brought my belongings in, right before I was about to sit up and give him a piece of my mind, I heard it. Laughter.

He tossed me a beseeching look as he darted through the open gate of the cage, closed it behind him while squeezing around the locking mechanism and moved swiftly, nestling himself up against the far-left wall, directly within my range of sight. Our eyes met and I felt the prickling sensation of fear beginning to coil within my chest as he mouthed, “I’m right here.”

“What do you think we’ll find, eh? Fucker was near feral when we brought him in here.”

“Bits and pieces, a wolf-less abomination doesn’t make for much fun.” I recognized that voice, it was Caleb. With our eyes still locked, I saw Sylus’ body tense, and his chin dip down as an angry expression settled over his face; his eyes snapping to the door. Had he reacted to the visceral reaction I experienced upon hearing the voice of my abuser?

“That’s not what I heard, Sir.” A shiver ran through me at the chuckled comment. Caleb had never hidden the fact that he’d take out his frustrations on me.

“Come on, Caleb. We want to know what it’s like to fuck a wolf-less.” The violent shivers that were beginning to wrack my body near brought the fabric covering me fluttering to the side, revealing me to the approaching men. The pressure in my chest dimmed as I saw Sylus move to the bars of the cage, gripping them as his eyes bore into mine, desperate to try and calm me from a distance.

“Well, if she’s alive. You might have to take her for a ride.” My eyes blew wide at Caleb’s crude statement, and I felt a whimper climbing my throat. Sylus was crouched near the gate now, his eyes wide, brows arched in worry as his mouth moved over the words ‘Breathe, sweetie. Breathe.’

All I wanted in that moment was to disappear. Fall into a pit, never to be seen again. The last thing I expected was for Caleb and his goons to come wandering down here. What would they do if they found not me alive but the clothing and food. Would they know it was Sylus who’d gathered it all? Would they even suspect me? What would they do… to Sylus, to me?

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we!” The cacophony of laughter that was belted through the narrow tunnel echoed in our little domain, making me grit my teeth in fear and a newer feeling of boiling anger. How dare he interrupt our little slice of Heaven!

I tried to inhale slowly through my nose as I heard the creak of the main, barely hanging on door as it opened, but all I could manage was a shaky half breath. My eyes were glued to Sylus’ face as he stood, moving to the center of the cage, directly in line with the entrance, drawing his arms through the bars, hanging them casually over the iron cross beam. Fingers clenching and unclenching into fists.

“Well, well, well. Aren’t you a piece of work!” I froze as the loud padding of their feet alerted me to them now entering the room. One of the guards, one I knew from the main house sauntered closer to the bars, conveniently just out of reach. The man himself was a burley balding man with snaggled teeth and a lisp, one of Caleb’s friends who used to shove flathead screwdrivers under my fingernails. “Get a load of this, Diego!”

Another name I knew, and another friend of Caleb’s. This one, also now a guard of the main house. Another brutal, sadist of a man who had taken pleasure from bending my arms behind my back until my shoulders dislocated. He had also been the same one who’d driven his knee between my legs hard enough to fracture my pelvis.

Then there was Caleb himself, barely giving Sylus a glance as his eyes perused the rest of the room. He’s looking for me….

Sylus pulled his arms through the bars as Caleb began turning his gaze toward the bed, and me. “I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you,” A sadistic smirk of his own pulling the corner of his mouth up as he continued, “…but I’d be lying.” His voice was low, bursting with malice and a stoic confidence, his eyes narrowed at the men. I saw through the blanket when Caleb twisted to face Sylus instead of getting closer to where I was, honestly, ill hidden.

I saw Caleb’s jaw flex before his expression settled into one of calm arrogance, “So, where is she?”

“Where is who?” Sylus chuffed, tilting his head, “Your communication skills are about as lacking as your looks, puppy.”

Caleb feinted the bars, even as a Beta, his attempt at intimidating Sylus made the big silver haired male laugh comically. I bit my lip, forcing back my own laughing fit. Why had it taken me so long to see just how pathetic a wolf Caleb truly was? Using intimidation and arrogance to get what he wanted. To get his way like a petulant child. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Caleb turned, a slash of a smile curling his lips evilly when his eyes fell on my lackluster hiding spot. My breath died in my chest as I felt my body freeze as my eyes fell on Caleb’s feet, one step after another. The feel of pure terror crippled my thoughts, and any potential fleeing movements I could’ve made. When he stood directly above me, I heard him whisper.

“Found you, mouse.”

I shrieked as he tore the burlap blanket from my form. He laughed, burying his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck, only to curl his fingers and haul me painfully from the bed. My hands immediately lurched upward to grip his wrist, digging my blunt fingernails into his skin. I couldn’t see through the tears that were already filling my eyes and cascading down my cheeks, but I could hear the growling snarls coming from somewhere further in the room. Sylus?

I blinked, and some of the room came back into focus. Caleb had drug me to the edge of the cage, his hand tight in my hair as he continued to laugh at my pain. I could see Sylus standing there, hands gripping the bars, he’d moved closer to the door of the cage. Through clenched teeth, I mouthed a ‘Don’t.’ at him and I watched as his lips curled back over sharp teeth.

Over the last couple days, Sylus had told me about how much Stayrus had come to enjoy my company. How he’d never felt the wolf so relaxed, not in a long time. To see him now, desperate to tear through Sylus’ control and rip the other men in the room limb from limb. I begged him with my own eyes, brimmed with tears to stand down. “What do you think, fellas. One at a time? Or altogether so our guest can have a good show?” I knew when Caleb’s eyes met Sylus,’ because Sylus growled, the sound low and menacing from somewhere deep in his chest, before letting his gaze fall to me again.

As much as I’d simply wanted the Earth to open up and swallow me whole. I didn’t want Sylus to get hurt more, even as a powerful Alpha, the odds weren’t in his favor. My own protective streak mirrored his as I kept my eyes solely on him, keeping a calm defiance in my expression to try and appease some of the rage I could see in his. I allowed my mind to wander to Sylus and my time together over the last few days, so I missed what Caleb’s goons responded with, but as they all circled me, I took a guess. I was used to this….

In the moment my clothes were ripped and stripped away from my body, Caleb dropped to the ground, grabbing both my wrists, and pinning them with his boot above my head. I saw Sylus lurch forward, but I slowly shook my head at him, and he froze. Eyes blown wide.

I wished he would turn around, face away while this happened, but I took a measure of strength from watching him, watching him war with himself and enraged beast within him. What I wouldn’t give for a modicum of control the man had to not let the wolf free in his clear state of distress. A hand gripped my chin suddenly and tore my face away from the cage, I tried to jar my focus, force myself to disassociate so I didn’t have to face the impending pain, but Caleb’s face came into view, and I felt that tinge of fear creep back into my chest as he smirked down at me, his amethyst colored eyes burning with lust and rage as he stared down at me.

For a Beta, he acted alarmingly Alpha when it came to taking his pleasure. I watched, as he pulled a string of condoms from his pocket, something he’d paid special attention to since he’d started these little sessions, having said it was for his own safety of all things. ‘Never know what a wolf-less might have.’ “Wrap up, boys.” Came Caleb’s voice through the growing haze in my mind after I’d seen the condoms.

“She’ll be breeding stock soon enough, Caleb—where’s the fun in wrappin’ it when raw could be so much more fun.” Diego mentioned breathily, I felt a rough hand pass over my bare thigh, and I closed my eyes tight. Feeling suddenly nauseated from the clammy touch. I could hear zippers being undone as each of Caleb’s friends began to strip.

In that moment, when more hands began to traverse over my chilled skin, all I could think about was Sylus, who’d been unnaturally quiet since Caleb had torn my gaze away. How kind he’d been to me; how caring and soft he’d treated me. He’d make an ideal mate to any female.

I whimpered in pain as two hands suddenly closed around my chest, pinching my nipples roughly between fat fingers. Those hands, as well as Caleb and all of the men surrounding me froze as something slammed against the bars of the cage. As I opened my eyes, I glanced around at the men, who all had their eyes focused on the something to my left. My knee jerk thought was that Sylus was somehow hurt.

When I craned my head to the side, my mouth parted in shock.

Standing there, dripping in viscous crimson fluid, layers of tattered and torn fragments of tanned skin slipping to the floor, revealing shaggy, thick white fur, stood a massive wolf. As the immense form pushed itself on to two heavily muscles back legs, the fragments of tissue fell from his fur on to the ground around him, piled at his feet were more bits of flesh and puddles of thick reflective pools of blood, ripped muscle and bits that looked close to fingernails floated in those pools. His heavy back paws padded angrily in front of the bars. Arms, bulging with even bigger muscles beneath white fur swung at his sides, long talon like claws flexed as he paced, the long claws of his feet digging into the ground beneath him with every pass.

The hands of the men around me, loosened before disappearing entirely one by one. Caleb included. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the massive white wolf, where the glowing red orbs of his were locked on his prey, of the men who’d been laying hands and potentially other body parts on me. I heard a pained whine come from Caleb’s goons, as they scrambled away from me. What?

“Fine. You can have her! Fuck.” I heard Caleb from somewhere to my right as my mind began to scramble with what was happening. I knew most shifters could communicate through a mind link, but I always assumed that was through pack members only. Maybe it was an Alpha thing? Sylus was one after all. “She’s never been a good lay anyway.” From behind the bars there came another low, rib rattling growl.

With no more hands, or presences pinning me down, I eased myself up on to my elbows, skimming my eyes around the floor until I found the pair of shorts, and the t-shirt that Caleb had torn off me. The shorts were, thankfully, intact—but the shirt was ripped down the front, looking more crumpled dress shirt than t-shirt. As I stuck my arms through the short sleeves anyway and pulled it shut across my chest, I backed myself up against the bars of the cage.

My eyes landing on the three men crouched down on knee, heads dropped forward, revealing their necks. Sweat poured off all of them, I suddenly wondered why.

I could feel the heat of Stayrus behind me as my back pressed against the bars. His hot breath striking my ear with every hard exhale. He seemed to calm a bit from my presence, but as soon as I saw Caleb begin to rise from his position, I heard another rumble emanate from within the wolf’s chest, making the Beta flinch back a step. “My father will hear about this.” Were the last words I heard before all three of them stumbled, crawled, and fled from the room.

My jaw nearly hit the floor. What the fuck was that! Well, no—I knew what all of that was. Sylus… or in this case, I guess Stayrus had gotten the better of Sylus’ control and saved me. Although, I was ninety percent sure that Sylus let his wolf take over.

Speaking of… I shifted on the floor, turning slowly to face the bars. Crouched just beyond the iron, sat the white wolf. His thick tail curled around his drawn together back feet as he rested his elbows on his knees, tongue lolled smirkingly from the corner of his long-muzzled mouth. Glistening white teeth showing from beneath his partially drawn back lips. Those ethereal crimson eyes glimmering with a depth of affection I’d only ever read about in stolen novels from my aunt’s vast romance collection.

Slowly, I lifted a hand and reached out between the bars, I watched as he slowly leaned forward. I swallowed around a lump in my throat as I felt his fur for the first time grace the pads of my fingers, and then slowly slide over my palm, where he nestled his cheek. Those wet red eyes closing as he relaxed against my hand. As I watched him, I found myself whispering, “You’re a gorgeous wolf, Stayrus.”

Those eyes parted, and I watched as the pupils dilated before Stayrus’ eyes flickered, revealing Sylus’ soft rubies. It was something I’d never witnessed before, having never been to a Pack Run previously, so to watch as Sylus’ human form forced its way through Stayrus’ bone, skin and fur made me teeth grind with shock. Groaning softly, he slid to the ground, entirely naked and covered in blood.

I pressed myself against the bars as I watched what looked like the corpse of the white wolf almost dissolve and absorb back into the moist skin of Sylus’ large, curled form. I wanted to go to his side, but he’d forced the lock back into place when he’d hurried in there earlier, so all I could was watch as his breathing evened out and his eyes fluttered open.

Having seen the shift now, I had a moment where I was thankful that I didn’t have a wolf. After a few more moments where he’d pushed himself up on to his side, reached out to grab a shred of what remained of his brown sweater and had scrubbed his face mostly free of blood, he looked at me. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for in my face, but when I smiled at him, he returned it.

As he shakily pushed himself to his feet, my eyes widened when I remembered—he was naked, and I was on my knees. Eye level with…. Holy fucking shit on a biscuit! I swiveled away from him, feeling the volcanic heat rush into my cheeks and down my neck. I heard a soft chuckle come from him as he forced the gate back open and padded across the room toward the open shower stall. Glancing up briefly, my eyes locked on the defined globes of his ass as he turned the knob of the shower and was drenched in the waterfall of clear water that warbled through the pipes and out the showerhead.

I cleared my throat as I stood up, my knees also feeling a bit weak. From the incident or from the vision of skin and muscle that stood across the room from me, I couldn’t tell—but I preferred the idea of it being Sylus, and not what happened. Walking a little closer to him, I managed to tear my eyes away long enough to look through the stack of clothes he’d piled for himself on the kitchenette counter. When I found a pair of black slacks, and another knit sweater—this one in a soft blue grey, I side stepped enough to both give him privacy and to place them on the stool he’d managed to put back together from when he’d torn apart the minimal furniture in the cell and placed near the shower platform.

I heard the whine of the pipes turning off and then felt the shock of water hitting the side of my face, my arm and down across my neck. Peering through one closed eye as I held up an arm as a shield, I found him shaking his head like a dog, whipping his hair around to get it slightly less drippy. Thankfully, he’d bent over a bit, so the view of his lower body was obstructed by the flailing of his head from side to side. “How is your brain still in one piece!” I asked, giggling at his antics.

He straightened, brushing both hands through his hair, pushing all of the strands away from his face. Plastering them back over his scalp, I immediately gripped the sweater and lifted it in the air high enough so it would cover his bits before I combusted into a pile of Ori ash. He grinned at me before saying, “I don’t like putting on clothes when I’m still wet.” Then he paused, a small blush of his own spreading over his cheeks, “So, you think Stayrus is gorgeous, do you?”

I blinked, sucking my lips between my teeth, “You heard that, did you.”

“Of course.” He chuckled as he made a grab for the pants off the stool, pulling them on, but leaving the buttons down the front undone and stepping off the stone dais toward me. “He thinks you’re pretty gorgeous yourself, you know.”

I whipped my head toward him, one brow raised I disbelief. “He does not…” I felt suddenly cowed as the new memory of being pinned to the floor and touched came to the forefront of my mind, “At least… he—you both shouldn’t… not after.” My eyes flicked from the corner to the spot on the floor where’d I’d been pinned.

“Yes… perhaps you are right, but…” He flashed me a look when I looked up at him through my lashes, “He tells me hourly that he thinks you’re gorgeous, and brave, and stronger than you realize.” He took that last step between us, removing the last remaining space before leaning down to get right in my face as he lifted a hand to cup my cheek, much like I’d done to Stayrus in the cage, “and…,” he breathed, as his red eyes darted between my own and my lips, making all air leave my lungs. “I would have to agree with him.”

Ω    ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶      Ω

SYLUS

Ω    ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶      Ω

She stood frozen before him after he’d spoken one of his internal thoughts out loud, ones he’d shared only with his wolf. Ones he, in that moment, after what had happened with the man who could only have been Caleb, that he thought she should hear in that moment.

He’d been nigh uncontrollable when he’d seen her eyes when she’d realized who was coming down the tunnel, it was in that moment that Stayrus had nearly torn through his carefully built control when he’d seen the fear fill her beautiful blue eyes.

It’d then nearly killed him twice over when she’d pleaded with those eyes for him to stand down after those fuckers casually spoke of assaulting her right then and there. She’d told him of the times in the past, but this was the present and the last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt, especially by the same arrogant asshole who’d abused her before. To have his friends join in was abhorrent and had set his skin aflame with the single desire to tear flesh from bone.

Looking at her now, seeing how nearly unphased she was in appearance spoke volumes to how strong of a person she was to endure for as long as she had, and still push to endure more for his sake. Sylus found himself agreeing with Stayrus more as of late in the beasts claims that she was his—theirs. Her eyes, wet blue orbs that made him think of a clear summer’s day looked up at him with an innocent air, flickering between his own in a way that told him she didn’t believe him. Why would she, when her entire life she’s told, and treated the complete opposite.

Stayrus, after shifting back, was just now beginning to rouse from his restless slumber. Sylus could feel him beginning to move around in his head, having heard how she’s denied his claims. It irritated the wolf to a degree, and Sylus found himself reassuring the animal that she—truly, didn’t know any better. That she’d had a hard life and didn’t know what it meant to be told something like that, and having it mean something. “She should always feel loved… and beautiful. Never not.” Sylus mentally smiled at his wolf, agreeing with him wholeheartedly.

When he focused on her again, he saw a light in her eyes as a small smirk pulled at her lips. Biting back the desire he felt roil in his chest, he returned the smirk and lifted an inquisitive brow, “What?”

She tipped her head to the side, “I can always tell when you’re talking with Stayrus.”

Sylus’ brows hit his hairline, “Really? Do tell.”

“Your eyes cloud over, and then they almost flash between his and yours repeatedly. They’re almost identical, but I can see the difference.” He was taken aback by that comment, even his former mate hadn’t been able to do that. Looking back now, he realized she hadn’t been able to do a vast majority of what Ori could do. The thought confused him but also settled an unease he’d felt since he’d left his pack years prior.

“You have yet to not impress me, Ori.” His voice was awash with something akin to pride. “Truly one of a kind.”

She smiled at him, a rosy tint moving into her cheeks as she leaned forward, slowly wrapping her arms around his torso, making him smile as she hugged him, pressing her cheek against his bare chest. His body was warm, and he could feel her small frame begin to shiver. His smile disappeared as he felt a marring worry begin in his gut. She’s not cold… why is she shivering?

Without thinking, he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her against him. It wasn’t a sexual thing, he and Stayrus felt like something was wrong, in just a select few long-legged strides he was laying her down on the little bed, where her head rolled to the side, her eyes fluttering shut. He held a finger beneath her nose, making sure she was breathing. She’s had a long night…. He thought to himself when he felt the warmth of her breath against his skin.

What Sylus wasn’t aware of was that outside, it was a full moon, and even after the traumatic events from earlier. Ori wasn’t just overwhelmed from the assault.

Ω    ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶      Ω

[ferniforest]

This Yokai has been an enigma to me for SO long, but I finally made her a physical character design >:]c

Hopefully I can get something more cleaned up for Artfight buuut

meet Kasumi! The chameleon yokai, shape shifter and charismatic con artist from Sundae's childhood

And gold star to everyone who deciphered "Chameleon" a while back!(⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)/⁠☆

@plumsodapop you wanted someone to fight?(okok she isn't the one who cursed Sundae, but she is the reason WHY Sundae was cursed..)

[splattergai]

Hello, you're can make Cheshire cat id pack? But if it's difficult you can ignore it

[ Banner Mask By @/Imjustchillinghere! ]

Names: Cheshire, Violet, Magenta, Chessur, Shifter, Oddity, Fang, Chrome, Stripes, Trick, Fantasy, Whimsy, Mystery, Riddle, Enigma, Shadow, Wit, Phantom, Mischief, Riddler

3rdpp: cat/cats, hide/hides, wonder/wonders, mad/mads, confuse/confuse, grin/grins, play/plays, pink/pinks, purple/purples, shape/shift, shift/shifts, guide/guides, fright/fights, fear/fears, odd/odds, biz/bizarre, lost/losts

Genders: cheshiregender, sleepywonderlandic, alicewonderlandian, wonderdepthian, weirdthing, piantic, candisaturic, weirdcoreture, erokoric, distortgender, familiarstrangeic, oddthing, inbissiec, paraxenarian, genmotigi

Titles: the one who grins, the grinning one, prn with a permanent smile, the guide through wonderland, prn who plays tricks, the trickster, prn who guides others, the omnipresent, the stranger, prn who is unpredictable, the one with strange abilities, prn who can disappear at will

[sexy-motorcycle-wroom-wroom]

Hey do you know any current really good Ereri fics you could recommend??

hi hello ty for sending ask :)

not all of them are ongoing but have some of my favorites:

Enigma by Alias_InsertName

144,262 words

Where their story begins underground and not separated by bars.

Or Levi and Eren met and fell in love years before the attack on Wall Maria.

The same story, another beginning.

The Mercy of Paradis by gazastripping

The Rumbling is over, and the world outside of Paradis is dead.

Ymir seeks a newfound freedom by etching her soul into Historia’s newborn child. Her exit shatters the Paths, lifting the curse from all remaining shifters, including Eren Jaeger, who hadn't expected his own survival. Ripped out from the carcass of flesh, Eren is taken back to Paradis and imprisoned—possibly for life.

Winter freezes the land, causing uneasiness amongst the island. Having formed a new, aggressive political movement of the state, Jaegerists defend Eren’s right to freedom now that their martyr is no longer facing imminent death at 23. A court date is set later in fall.

Eren does not believe in his own freedom anymore. But when he finds out that Levi’s sole vote against Eren's publicly debated execution holds the most power, he begins to wonder why Levi would speak for him a second time—and whether he regrets the first.

a life time with you by anewkindofthrill

2,450 words

Levi has promised to kill Eren if he goes wild. Yet it would have been nice to spend more time with him.

Repeating History by RosyLilac

253,386 words

Levi had always been a sucker for those gem-like eyes. Those eyes beseeched him to do their bidding; from smuggling literal horseshit for fertilizing his precious garden, to adopting three kids and a teenager without Levi putting the ring on him let alone growing the balls to confess yet ("It's been 18 years, Levi," Farlan reminded him, the long-suffering witness). And the effect didn’t lessen when those eyes were as big as double his head and the owner now a fifteen meter of bone-white, bare-assed, hammer-swinging juggernaut currently begging to be allowed to cross the sodding ocean to meet up with his psycho older nephew and conduct a peace summit with delegations from all over the world.

Perge Sequar, Pari Passu by SinisterAmix, 135,679 words

It’s been six years since our last expedition outside Wall Maria, and the circumstances have changed. We have no idea where our enemies are located, or how far, and the only way to remedy that is to send out scouts to try and remap the surrounding territory as best as we can. Four small units will depart from the Walls and head north, south, east, and west to survey the layout and the titan demographic. It will be vital if we ever want to have a foothold in a world we’re oblivious to,” Erwin continued slowly. His eyes scanned everyone at the table before adding, “And that's why I've specifically requested each and every one of you.”

Or: Levi and Eren are assigned a lengthy cartography mission outside the Walls and pick up on the little things. Eren also does some reckless dumbass shit and Levi just wants to get back in one piece.

The Ship of Freedom by SaZB

176,458 words

When Levi Ackerman boarded the Titanic on April 10, 1912, he expected warm meals, soft pillows, great service and running water. All luxurious things the Titanic boasted it could offer on its journey across the Atlantic Ocean, even for the low-class passengers like Levi.

What Levi did not expect was what could only be described as an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object in the form of a young, snobby 1st class passenger named Eren Jäger. And Levi certainly did not expect falling in love with Eren so quickly it felt like exactly that - falling.

Augenfresser by teke, 75,455 words

Monsters did not like to hide under beds, as his father had told him. No; he found the monster hiding in his closet.

Misguided Ghosts by mandrs

134,792 words

As an outcast at his high school, Eren Jaeger is desperate to belong in a story that doesn’t feel like his own. No matter how hard he tries to fit in, he’s always felt different. But when he sees an ad seeking a guitar player, everything changes.

Through jam sessions and late-night conversations over make-shift meals and Budwisers, Eren begins the journey of unlocking a piece of himself that he never knew existed.

[shapeshiftinganon]

ITS YOUR TIME TO DIE

*slashes you across the stomach*

-an enigma

AH- SHIT

*Shifter shapeshifts to have metallic like scales covering their sensitive areas as they back away, wincing at the pain*

[starrycardcaptor]

Can i request pronouns, titles and names for an inmortal shapeshifter?

☆ with a wave of his wand , the cardcaptor grants you . . .

names ! ☆ alecto , altan , ambrosia , anthan , arkin , dante , dawn , divit , emrys , javion , lestari , navina , nova , nyssa , persephone , phoenix , rené , sadiva , thanasis !

pronouns ! ☆ eni / enigma / enigmas / enigmaself , etern / eternity / eternal / eternityself (or eternalself) , for / ever / forever / foreverself , in / fin / infinity / infinityself , mim / mimic / mimics / mimicself , shi / shift / shifter / shifterself !

titles ! ☆ prn of unknown age , prn that defies death , prn who death denies , prn who has seen the birth of worlds , prn whose form is fluid , the eternal and ever-changing , the inventor of inconsistency !

reminder to understand the origin of your names / pronouns / titles before you use them ! ☆

[soulbrothershow]

Prince: The Divine Duality of Spirituality and Sensuality

Prince was more than a musician; he was an enigma, a force of nature that seemed to channel something beyond the ordinary. His artistry was a fusion of the sacred and the sensual, the divine and the carnal. To listen to Prince was to experience a spiritual awakening and a sensual initiation all at once—two sides of a spectrum he balanced effortlessly. He embodied contradiction and transcendence, moving between worlds with an ease that made him feel otherworldly.

The Sacred and the Sensual: A Spiritual Alchemist

Prince’s music was deeply rooted in spirituality. He spoke often of God, love, and divine purpose, intertwining these themes into his lyrics and compositions. His 1988 album Lovesexy is a testament to this duality, where he framed sensual love and spiritual devotion as one and the same. The title track “Anna Stesia” moves from erotic yearning to a divine revelation, ending with the repeated mantra, “God is love, love is God.” He never saw a separation between the body and the soul; to him, physical pleasure was as much a path to the divine as prayer.

This duality was present in his very being. Prince could deliver a song like “Adore,” where devotion felt as eternal as the heavens, and in the same breath, sing “Darling Nikki,” a raw, carnal confession that dripped with lust. He didn’t see these as opposing forces—they were part of the same spiritual journey. In many ways, he was an alchemist, transforming raw passion into something sacred and turning spirituality into something deeply felt in the flesh.

Gemini: The Shape-Shifter and the Eternal Duality

Born on June 7, 1958, Prince embodied the very essence of Gemini energy. The sign of the twins, Gemini represents duality, adaptability, and an ever-evolving nature—all qualities that defined Prince’s artistry and identity. He was mercurial, shifting between personas, styles, and energies as though he were channeling multiple spirits at once.

One minute, he was the flamboyant rock god in lace and heels; the next, he was the mystical, soft-spoken sage who spoke in riddles about the nature of existence. His music spanned genres effortlessly—rock, funk, jazz, R&B, pop, gospel—all without losing his signature essence. Just when the world thought they understood Prince, he transformed again, forever unpredictable, forever Gemini.

A Genderfluid Visionary: Beyond the Binary

Before the term “genderqueer” was widely recognized, Prince was already living it. He blurred gender lines with an ease that felt natural, challenging the rigid binaries of masculinity and femininity. From the high heels, eyeliner, and crop tops to his deep baritone and electrifying guitar solos, he inhabited a space beyond traditional gender roles.

His very presence was an act of defiance against societal norms. He sang in falsetto like an angel, then roared like a warrior. He adopted female alter egos, like Camille, whose high-pitched vocals gave songs an androgynous quality. His fluidity wasn’t just in appearance; it was in his entire being. Prince refused to be boxed in—he was both masculine and feminine, powerful and vulnerable, seductive and spiritual.

His influence can be seen today in genderfluid artists like Janelle Monáe and Big Freedia, but at the time, Prince was carving out space in a world that often feared what it didn’t understand. He didn’t just play with gender; he transcended it.

Prince as a Spiritual Guide

Prince wasn’t just a musician; he was a spiritual teacher in his own right. His songs weren’t just about love or sex—they were about enlightenment, about finding God in the most unexpected places. He challenged listeners to think deeper, to feel more, to embrace their contradictions. His music was a portal to higher consciousness, a gateway to something beyond this world.

To experience Prince is to experience duality in its most divine form. He taught us that spirituality and sensuality are not separate but intertwined, that masculinity and femininity are fluid, and that music is a sacred force capable of transcending time, space, and even identity. Prince wasn’t just an artist—he was a cosmic being who reminded us all of our infinite potential.

Even now, his presence lingers, a spirit that cannot be contained, a sound that will never fade.

[pixienautica]

Enigma special traits

Mika = yellow (light) - half human: no secondary trait. (x2 all common weaknesses)

RGB = pink (psionics) - half pixie: technokinesis. (x2 all common weaknesses. x4 weakness to electricity)

Shifter = purple (acid) - half ghoul: demonic magic, corruption. (x2 all common weaknesses. x⅛ weakness to silver. 0x weakness to fire)

[zapreportsblog]

Garrett x human Reader Her whole body except for her face, neck and hands are covered in tattoos but she does not revel them until the battle of to see if Renesemee is immortal child or not. She does not meet Garrett until the battle of Victoria and her army of newborns. She has long chocolate brown hair and wears circle framed glasses. She is related to Emmett.

❝concealed❞

✭ pairing : garrett x reader

✭ fandom : twilight x reader

✭ summary : (y/n) is the mate of Garrett but doesn’t meet him until some years later, she has tattoos and is the only human relative that Emmett has

✭ twilight masterlist

In the heart of the forest, where shadows danced among ancient trees, (Y/N) moved with a graceful purpose. Her long, chocolate brown hair cascaded down her back, a stark contrast against the muted greens and browns of the woods. Clad in a simple long-sleeved blouse and jeans, she seemed like any other traveler exploring nature's beauty.

Yet, (Y/N) was far from ordinary. Beneath her clothing, her body was adorned with a tapestry of intricate tattoos, each design a testament to her connection with her ancestors and her reverence for the world around her. Her neck and hands bore a rich mosaic of symbols, alluring and mysterious, hinting at a history that was deeper and more complex than her appearance suggested.

For years, she had concealed her body art, careful to hide her inked skin beneath the fabric of long sleeves and high necklines. Her tattoos were her own secret, a personal tapestry of stories and memories that she carried with her, unbeknownst to those around her. And while she was proud of her heritage and the links that bound her to her ancestors, she chose to keep her marks hidden, revealing them only when the time was right.

It was a chilly evening as (Y/N) entered a clearing, her glasses perched on her nose as she surveyed the landscape. In the distance, a shimmering waterfall cascaded down a rocky cliffside, its gentle roar a soothing backdrop to her thoughts. It was a place of solace, a sanctuary where she could lose herself in her contemplations.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in a tapestry of colors, (Y/N)'s thoughts turned to the rumors that had begun circulating among the supernatural community. Whispers of an immortal child, an enigma that had captured the attention of vampires and shape-shifters alike. She couldn't ignore the call to action, the pull to uncover the truth.

The woods seemed to hum with anticipation as (Y/N) turned to leave the clearing, her footsteps measured as she navigated the path back to her small cabin. The moon cast dappled light through the trees, and in its ethereal glow, (Y/N)'s tattoos seemed to come alive, a hidden masterpiece waiting to be unveiled.

Little did she know that destiny was about to introduce her to someone who would change her life forever. A battle loomed on the horizon, one that would bring her face to face with not only the supernatural forces she had heard whispers of but also a certain nomadic vampire named Garrett.

Weeks turned into months, and (Y/N) found herself drawn deeper into the mysteries that surrounded the supernatural world. She followed leads, listened to whispers, and sought answers to the enigma of the immortal child. Her quiet determination propelled her forward, her tattoos hidden beneath her everyday attire, a part of her that remained known only to herself.

It was during her investigations that the path of destiny intersected with another, as the confrontation with Victoria and her army of newborns loomed on the horizon. The forest crackled with tension as the two sides prepared for battle, and (Y/N) stood among the supernatural allies, her eyes steady behind her circle-framed glasses.

As the battle cries echoed through the air, (Y/N) fought with a fierce determination, her every move a testament to her hidden strength. Her tattoos remained concealed, a canvas of stories that remained shrouded in mystery. It was only when the chaos of battle began to reach its climax that her moment arrived.

Amidst the fray, (Y/N) found herself facing off against a particularly formidable adversary. Victoria's red eyes bore into her, a fierce determination mirrored in her gaze. (Y/N)'s heart raced, her every instinct sharpened by the adrenaline of battle.

With a surge of energy, she unleashed her full strength, the power of her ancestry coursing through her veins. As her opponent's attack faltered, her own strike was swift and precise. And in the wake of the battle, Victoria's threat was finally extinguished.

As the dust settled, the supernatural allies regrouped, their breaths heavy with a mix of exhaustion and relief. It was in this moment that (Y/N) felt a presence at her side. She turned, her eyes meeting those of a nomadic vampire, his hair wild and his gaze unwavering.

"Garrett," she murmured, recognition dawning.

He offered a half-smile, his eyes curious. "You fought well."

"(Y/N)," another voice called from the distance. Turning, she saw her connection to the supernatural world, the Cullens, approaching.

"We owe you our gratitude," Carlisle said, his expression sincere.

Her gaze shifted between the two, her lips quirking into a smile. "It was a battle for all of us."

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow on the aftermath of the battle. As (Y/N) stood among the supernatural beings, her tattoos remained hidden beneath her clothing, a silent testament to her own battles and triumphs.

Garrett approached her again, his gaze steady. "You're not like the others."

She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "And what makes you say that?"

He smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I have a keen eye for those who bear secrets, my dear."

A knowing smile tugged at her lips, and for the first time, (Y/N) felt a sense of camaraderie with someone who understood the art of concealment. As the night wore on, stories were exchanged, bonds were formed, and the mysteries of the supernatural world began to unravel in ways (Y/N) had never imagined.

Little by little, as (Y/N)'s world expanded to include new allies and experiences, her tattoos remained a hidden reminder of her unique journey. For with each day that passed, she found herself not only entwined in the supernatural tapestry but also a chapter of her own tale that was just beginning to be written.

Time flowed like a river, carrying (Y/N) into a world she had only glimpsed from the periphery. She walked a delicate line between her newfound supernatural allies and the life she had known as a human. Her bond with Garrett deepened with each passing day, their shared understanding of secrecy and concealment forging a connection that transcended words.

With her tattoos still hidden from view, (Y/N) became an indispensable member of the supernatural community, her skills and determination proving invaluable in times of danger. She joined in their endeavors, fought alongside them in battles that shaped the destiny of their world, and stood shoulder to shoulder with vampires and shape-shifters alike.

As the seasons changed, (Y/N)'s journey of self-discovery continued, each day a testament to her strength and resilience. The Cullens became not only her allies but also her family, and Garrett, her mate, a constant presence at her side. Together, they faced challenges that tested their bonds and celebrated victories that united them in purpose.

One evening, under the stars that glittered like diamonds in the night sky, (Y/N) found herself sitting by a crackling fire, her tattoos illuminated by the dancing flames. She wore a sleeveless top, her decision to reveal her marks a deliberate one. The intricate designs spoke of generations past, of stories whispered through time.

Garrett approached, his gaze drawn to the revealed tattoos. His fingers traced the patterns gently, his touch both tender and reverent. "(Y/N), they're beautiful," he whispered.

She smiled, her heart full as she met his gaze. "They're a part of me, a reminder of my ancestors and the path that led me here."

Garrett's eyes held a mixture of admiration and understanding. "Just as your strength and spirit are a part of you."

In that moment, (Y/N) felt a sense of completeness that she had never known before. Her tattoos were no longer hidden away, but proudly displayed, a testament to her journey, her heritage, and the love that had woven its way into her life.

As the fire crackled and the night stretched before them, (Y/N) and Garrett sat together, their hands intertwined. They were bound by more than just their secrets; they were bound by the shared experience of growth, connection, and the promise of an unknown future that lay ahead. And as they gazed into the flames, they knew that whatever challenges awaited, they would face them together, their stories and tattoos interwoven in a tapestry of love and courage.

[monsterlovinghours]

What about the Dons in DnD world? 🤔

I'm sure some are really easy but fell free to do an in depth analysis on their role and backstory. (The easiest one would definitely be Scarabee 👀)

Ooooohh. Since I'm on my phone and typing out long things is hard I prooooobably won't go too in-depth but I invite y'all to reblog with your own thoughts and opinions!

-A while back @realmonsterboyhours drew Bajo as a tiefling and now I can't see him as anything else. He's also bard coded, he's definitely got the charisma for it--he also plays that sexy flamenco guitar.

-You're absolutely right though, Scarabee is a no-brainer. Obviously a warlock, he's got a patron already part of his lore. Has just about every spell or potion ingredient you could think of up in his attic. As for race, I could see a half-elf. Like, there's something of the fey about him, but he's been human or at least knows what being human is like.

-Zhuk is an orc and I'll die on this hill. He's big, he's beefy, he's large and in charge. I'm also going with barbarian, based solely again on art drawn by @realmonsterboyhours of him holding a sledgehammer. Imagine big-ass swords in those meathooks of his. Or a giant axe. Or just picture him saying "fuck it" and beating someone to death with his bare hands. Look at me and tell me he wouldn't do it. Not because he isn't civilized or intelligent but because someone's gotta do the dirty work.

-Cia is an elf druid. I mean, *look at him.* Mans is about as fey coded as you can get and looks like he didn't see something that wasn't a tree until he hit triple digits. If you took the daddy energy out of Halsin, you'd be left with Ciaróg. Also, he helps his tiefling husband with his rose gardens and how cute is that??

-Gio is an enigma. He's absolutely an eldritch horror, but just for funsies, I think he'd take the form of a drow. After a couple of centuries he might change his form, but drow is his favorite. He has a lot of arcane knowledge, things that beings of this plane shouldn't know, so he just tells everyone he's a wizard. Did a lot of studying, you know.

-Saft a half-orc artificer. He's a bit of a big boi, sturdy and thick, but despite his size and his brutish heritage, he can tinker with the most delicate mechanisms. Mostly uses his knowledge to make explosives and weapons; incendiary devices are his favorite. Has built so many guns.

-Bjalla is a vampire. "hhhh but what's his race" LISTEN HERE I'M NOT CHANGING WHAT'S ALREADY PERFECT. Of course he's a fucking vampire, what else would he be? And yes, I believe he would be a rogue. No, I am not saying this because I'm also madly in love with Astarion. There will be no further questions. He's canonically an assassin, you can't tell me he wouldn't be a rogue. Yes, I have a type, leave me alone dammit.

-Mozzie gives me dwarf energy, though his size doesn't quite gel with that idea. Maybe an earth genasi? Something earthy idk. He also gives ranger vibes, someone who travels a bunch. Though in this realm of high fantasy, since internet isn't a thing, he deals in information. He can gather intel, spread rumors, manipulate the flow of knowledge from one person or place to another.

-Lag is a firbolg. He's big, he's fluffy, he's a big ol sweetheart who couldn't hurt a soul if he tried. Also probably a druid, though he's less concerned with plant life and more with animals. He's the fauna to Cia's flora.

-Devlin is a shifter. Like, it's obvious, right? Clearly he's a shifter, he's werewolf coded. And honestly, I think he's our cleric, just because I had the idea that the deity he worships is so ancient and he's been cursed so many times, he's actually forgotten its name. But also how funny would it be to have a cleric that bestows blessings and makes things holy by literally absorbing the curses and evil magic. It's fine, he's fine, it doesn't hurt! Not anymore, anyway.