#there are too many amulets in this game

[jcollinswrites]

As a huge ancient Egypt fan i was so happy when i found your if, so thank you for writing it :) anyway, i didn't end the new chapter yet but i know what you did with the Hathor amulet ;) it was a nice and cute touch

I... have to admit, I'm not sure which amulet you're talking about 😅 I sometimes forget what I write in my books lmao

[sunfoxfic]

*grits teeth* Skyrim is a fun game and I'm having fun

[tfgalore]

My brother was the cockiest guy around, and he loved to take it out on me. Too bad I found the amulet that let us switch bodies just like that. One minute he’s tossing me around like a bully, the next, I’m giving him a wedgie and flexing my new muscles while he whines in confusion. I never even realised how pathetic I used to sound with my nerdy voice.

It’s only been an hour and I’ve already pumped this massive dong thrice. My bro is definitely more well endowed than me! And he’s got so many of his bottom buddies on speed dial, I might just have to give them a call. The room reeks of sex and sweat now, and gaming in my underwear is just too fun! I keep seeing my old body peeking in, my brother already aching to get back into his muscular body. What a loser! He doesn’t even know I broke the amulet. There’s no going back now! This jock body is mine forever.

[kujiba]

¡MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU, DEAR GRACE!

୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

A/n: I made this while drunk /jk

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 5

PART 6

Were you high? Possibly.

Did you feel like you were floating? 50/50

You stared directly at the glowing screen plastered infront of you, with your eyes full of focus.

CHOOSE YOUR ELEMENT: ELECTRO, HYDRO, PYRO, DENDRO, ANEMO, GEO, CRYO

'Ah.. This will be hard' You thought to yourself while nodding and looking away from it. Gazing your eyes back on the screen you either were highly delusional right now or...

You had been gifted the ultimate weapon! A system!

You're not a dumbass you've seen those novels, tv's, Mangas, animes, manwha, all that kind of stuff! So you had some bits and pieces on how to roll with this new kind of power.

Back to the main problem... Which element should you pick? Every element in the game is highly valuable and could be used with many different ways. The question is what would benefit you more in the situation you've been put upon.

Currently you had been locked in a cell by whoever knocked you unconscious, but your suspicion leaned more in the knights of favonius. You shaked your head telling yourself to deal with the problems one by one.

"Damn.. Which do I choose" You clenched your lips together tightly and scratched your chin with your own finger. Being indecisive and having a bit of a problem to choose from the choices given to you by the system.

You knew you had to pull your ultimate move.

"Innie, Minnie, Miny, moe..." You mumbled while your finger hopped it's way to each element on the screen "Catch a tiger by its toe if it hollows let it Go, Innie, Minnie Miny, moe." Your finger slowed down by the second and finally took a halt when the song ended.

You looked at the element carefully too see what the fate has given you!

"DENDRO"

YAHOO!!

Your excitement honestly didn't come from the element you choose but the thought you could have your own powers and vision!!

"Gimme DENDRO!" You declared to the system with a prideful voice, A systematic noise rang through your ears in a unpleasant way, soon after the noise came to a halt, a small glowing jeweled amulet began to descend from the air.

"Holy..!" You stared in awe as the jewel gently dropped to your hands. A familiar glowing green vision with it's outer areas decorated uniquely in a high quality silver material.

Quickly enough the system box appeared in front of you yet again.

"CONGRATULATIONS, LEVEL UP TO UNLOCK MORE SKILLS, POWER, AND ITEMS"

The system then showed a long box filled with words and numbers that you immediately understood from your long gaming experience.

[NAME]

Lvl 1 / 20

Max HP: 929

ATK: 34

DEF: 21

Elemental Mastery: 0

Max stamina: 240

Crit rate: 5%

Crit DMG: 50%

Energy Recharge: 300%

"..."

GODDAMN! Why was your energy Recharge so high?... Actually no- that isn't a bad thing, it'll be good for you to just keep spamming your burst till the enemy drops dead.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a pair of footsteps made their way too where you currently are, you quickly hid the vision behind your back, afraid they might try and take it from you if they ever found out about it.

A familiar blonde and brunette made their way in front of your cell, you gripped your vision tighter remembering clear as day what had happened, your suspicions not even faltering for a second.

"(Name)." Jean called out, she placed her hand on her chest while looking at you calmly. Amber was by her side looking at your every movement, Jean continued "Were not here to hurt you. It's the opposite really" Jean's eyes looked soft and humble...

But that doesn't excuse them for knocking you out so harshly.

You deathly wanted to talk back to her but kept your mouth shut, only biting your lip harder so that nothing would come out and spill something important.

"Please, don't be wary of us.. We're your friends" Okay now she was spouting bs. Sure you've met amber for ONLY a bit but Jean was still technically a stranger to you!

You sighed to yourself "How long are you going to keep me in here?" you asked with a tad bit of impatience, you leaned your head back on the solid wall while narrowing down your eyes at them.

Amber responded to your question "Its..it's for your own good (Name), please trust us. We're keeping you safe" Amber's tone was yet determined but also worried. Jean placed her hand on Amber's shoulder and nodded.

"We'll explain to you everything later" Jean was about to say something till you cut her off "Why not now?" You asked tilting your head to the side.

Jean looked at you then down at the ground "There.. Are still some important things we had to arrange. But even so don't try to escape, this is for your own good (Name)"

"Ha? What do you-- AND... they left" You grumbled seeing them leave you all alone in here again.

✿

"Hey system." You called out to it while playing around with your vision. The system appeared again by your side "What is it?"

A Google translator like voice came out of the box, you had this thought for a while now. "Will something happen to me when I escape this place?" You questioned it.

It took a while but the Ai voice returned "Judging from my information I have gathered. You are currently a 'GOD'."

Ha?

"What!? What do you mean, God!?" You exclaimed in a panicked voice. You? A God?

You were snapped out of your frenzy when you heared it's voice again "There is currently a popular and confirmed tale plus ballad that you are the creator of Teyvat. People began worshipping you after you had abruptly dissapered without any warning, so they prayed and worshipped, hoping to bring you back"

You were even more bewildered but also... Understanding? I guess? I mean you are the player who basically built everything in the game. But isn't also Cai Hauyo (Mihoyo) basically the creator of what had been created? You'll dive deeper into that later.

"So.. They're all after me now?" Your tone had a clear hint of worry. You didn't want to be on the run and just wanted a normal life! The system replied saying "Not quite yet. I belive only the knights of favonius must've known. But Im sure it won't be long till the whole mondstadt or even Teyvat will find out about your presence"

You grimaced at the thought of being hunted down by multiple people, especially if those beloved people that you used to grind hours on end for!

You shaked your head in disapproval "Yet I can't really stay here either can I, it seriously sucks" you stretched your legs out on the cold cement flooring, the exterior of the room you had been trapped in was definitely not suited to live in.

"Why are you eager to escape?" The system sought to find the answer, you gave it a long frown "First of all, I am not going to be trapped here for the rest of my life! I'll die of boredom before anybody could even reach me" The system responded with only small glitching noises, it seemed like it was trying to process the outcome of your actions.

You took that as a cue to continue your rant "Secondly, I'm not really trusting the Knight's of Favonius yet nor anybody in general here. When you said I'm a supposed 'God' that's already trouble going to bite me in the ass" You breathed heavily to catch your breath, letting that all out of your chest felt pretty good to be honest.

"I know they're up to something"

!?!?

Jean stared down at the stack of papers and files scattered around her desk. She took a deep breath and began to tidy things up around the office, a vivid memory flashed through her mind, a memory that wasn't that long ago.

Amber had gone out to continue her Outrider duties leaving Jean to take care of their business for the time being. Her lips trembled ever so slightly like a leaf being blown by the wind, so she quickly bit her lip with her eyes full of worry and dread.

A god was in a cell. A cell she placed them in. Or.. So she was assuming

Back then, Barbatos and the creator had a small fondness of each other. Tales and Ballads would often say they were friends, even with the gap between their ranks and powers, the creator treated everyone fairly no matter what rank. They adored their creations and thus, the creations adored them back.

If only they hadn't left so soon that Teyvat began to slowly crumble, leaving a nation to fall down, a nation to lock itself away from the rest of the world, a nation having their own Archon sacrifice themselves for their people.

If only...

Jean had her doubts. It wasn't the first time that a supposed 'Creator' stepped up only for them to experience demise and pain for their foolish actions.

The creator didn't have a confirmed face or appearance since they often changed what they look like, the creator did had 'Aura'.. That was only visible to vision holders. But of course, the humankind has evolved and people began to come up with a 'Fake Aura' that was the exact replica of the creator's.

Her feet paced back and forth through the room, deciding on what to do with the supposed 'God' that was locked away in a cell.... Should she eliminate them now? False identity was a crime. And when it comes to the creator, no one is spared nor given mercy.

"...Their too suspicious, Why only now did they appear? They must've been like the others." She whispered to herself, her thoughts running wild about them.

A 50/50.

They were either the actual creator

Or they are a fake.

And Jean's choice began to tilt towards the one most logical.

"Tomorrow. We will arrange a public execution"

!!!

"GAHHH!! AGHHH" You desperately tried to concentrate on your mind to activate your vision powers "What the heck how does this work!?" You gripped the amulet tighter with your left eye twitching violently. Your annoyance only filled more as the messages of the system flooded in your face.

"Try concentrating more calmly. What are you doing? Taking a shit?" The system taunted you while also sending some emojis.

"I'm trying okay!? How do you..." You trailed your words off, having a random flashback of when you still were at earth for some reason.

"Hey how are you always so calm?" You asked your friend filled with curiosity, they looked up at your eyes. Seeing your curiosity they hummed "Well I mostly think about my happy memories and things that I like. It's like day dreaming you know?" They answered your thoughts calmly.

"What?? You sound like one of those cliché characters in shows lol."

You blankly stared at the wall after the flashback had ended. Your head turned to the system "That was your doing ain't it?" You deadpanned seeing that the system had completely ignored you and instead sent whistling emojis.

You groaned finally giving in since you had no other ideas anyway. "Agh... Fine, worth a shot" You grumbled giving in to the cliché idea.

You relaxed down your body as your shoulders began to lower along with your guard, you cleared your head, thinking nothing but a blank space for some moments. When you felt ready you had began to imagine all the joyful things that you deeply favored for the past years. All of that gathered into one moment inside your brain.

The vision glowed brightly in your hands, it's viridescent color taking up the whole dimly lit room, even the system kept quiet with the messages so that you could concentrate better on finally unlocking some skills.

And just that, in a short while the vision began to lose its light.

Fluttering your eyes open you took a look around your body to see any changes, to your dissapointment there wasn't any difference. "Did it work?" You wanted to know if you were finally able to throw plants or something.

Suddenly, you slightly jumped seeing confetti pop out of nowhere. The systems screen had massive words placed for you to see.

"CONGRATULATIONS ON UNLOCKING YOUR VISION !!

Reward:

+50,000 Mora

+Cake For The Player

+Personal Companion"

'Personal Companion?'

You were curious to see what it was but for now, you had to focus on breaking out of this hell hole. "System! So like uh, what can I do for now?" You rubbed the back of your head still pretty much a newbie to all this powers stuff.

"Throw out your companion. Call out it's name, 'Taube' and break the damn wall to escape"

"Taube?..." You mumbled it's name unsure at first but your doubts had quickly vanished as your eyes landed on a... Dove?

The Dove (Taube) was pure as a snow, it's wings flapping in the air gently with the inner layer of its feathers being a stunning (Color). Other than that, it looked like a pretty beautiful dove soaring in the sky.

"Wait so, what can it do?" You tilted your head at it questionably. "Make Taube attack the wall so you can see" The system answered your calling, you silently nodded your head at the systems words.

If the Dove was basically part of your power, then it could basically read through your mind! then.... 'Taube, I choose you!!'

Like a smooth cut of a knife, Taube had sliced through the wall with their wing, leading to the fresh and flourishing outside.

You were lying if you didn't say you were impressed and amazed by how easily Taube destroyed the wall. A wide smile appeared on your face as you didn't waste a single moment and ran out to the outside and away from that wretched room.

The air was clean and felt good as you inhaled as much as you can, the sweet scent of dandelions being all over the land was just a touch of freedom. The wind blew over your clothes and hair, wrinkling and messing it all up slightly.

"Man..." You muttered while straightening and fixing yourself up to look a slight bit more presentable. You looked around seeing Taube flying over to your vision, confusion hitted you but shock struck you harder for some quick seconds.

Your eyes widened, watching how Taubes body began to get absorbed by the vision, you panicked alot thinking your powerful animal companion is going to dissperse and never appear again but you quickly remembered that Taube is originally made from your vision anyway.

So you could summon them anytime! :D

A sigh of relief escaped through your lips, your eyes lingered on the body of Taube one last time, in impulse you softly stroked it's head before it faded away from your line of view.

Brushing those thoughts aside, you took a look around the vast land of Mondstadt. You weren't used to seeing how clean and green it was compared to earth where everything is in the brink of collapsing.

BUT! that wasnt your problem right now.

You didn't think twice to bolt your ass out of there and find a new hiding place, A cave? A abandoned house? Anything is fine! cause your gut kept telling you something bad will happen if you stay too long in there!

Wow. Who knew that you would be escaping from there when just a few chapters ago you were fangirling about living in mondstat?

Anyways...

'FREEDOM!!'

A/n: Short but active hehe

This is what the Dove kinda looks like btw, you could leave it to your imagination v

[serpentface]

The goddess Arweny, depicted in Setem-Whe ornamental style. She is usually described as a female elowey protruding from the jaws of a gigantic serpent, or as a small snake with a rat perpetually stuck in its throat.

She is considered to be one of many local spirits of the wilds across the vast forested region known as Nekhuatseth, and is venerated (and cursed) as the god of the hunt-interrupted. She is believed to lend strength and speed to hunted quarry, allowing them to escape predation against insurmountable odds. She is completely impartial, and will lend her mercy to an insect just as easily as she would to a person.

Hunters blame her when what seems to be a certain kill escapes, and pray to her when they find themselves hunted. In many places, it is believed that she will hide all prey if she is not appeased, and as such is left offerings of fruit and wine before any expedition. It is common in rural parts of Nekhuatseth to wear amulets depicting her likeness to ward off attacks from wild beasts.

A folktale from the Sykhilic cult (a Nekh and Setem-Whe religious order devoted to a lunar goddess, scattered in temples at the edges of wilderness areas) intends to teach youths about the dangers and impartiality of the wilds, and illustrates beliefs about Arweny's intervention in the cycle of hunter and hunted.

A young hunter walked alone through the wilds in the heat of the dry season. They were on their rite of passage, and as such were armed only with a knife and could feed only on what game and forage they found on their journey. They were three days in, tired and hungry and missing the comfort of the city more and more with every step.

The hunter stopped at the edge of a clearing to eat a few clumps of dry, tasteless grass. They chewed miserably and dreamed of the great feast that would be held upon their return, when they heard a sudden snap. The youth had only a moment to turn before a great beast seized them in its claws. A tyger had been stalking them, and now pinned them to the earth under one massive paw!

Thinking fast, the young hunter called upon one of the wild gods of these parts. 

“Arweny! Rat-Who-Chokes-The-Snake! Please, lend me your strength!”

And there was a great rustling in the bush, a sliding, slithering sound, and a cackle of frightful laughter. And the hunter felt every muscle in their body seize with a great strength, and they wrenched themself out of the stinking cat’s grasp.

The youth scampered up a tree and sat in its high boughs with their breast heaving. The cat paced below in helpless agitation, for the branches were far too lithe to support its great weight.

The great beast stalked away, and the hunter cried out their thanks to the lord of the triumphant prey and nursed their wounds.

The young hunter walked along deer trails all day, but there was no quarry to be seen, and the scents were weeks old and unpromising. With hunger now gnawing painfully at their gut, they came upon a great river. There were water lillies growing in the shallows with thick, tasty bulbs, and the air was alive with frogsong. The youth crept out into the muddy water, hoping to find something good to eat.

But a slight ripple on the water filled their gut with ice. Their instinct told them to be afraid, and in the fraction of a second, they whispered, “Arweny, lord of the hunt-interrupted, lend me your speed.”

And in that same moment, a colossal riverdrake sprang forth from the murk, faster than the hunter could have run. But their body was seized with a great quickness, and they leapt into the air, high above the drake’s head, and came down upon its jaws, forcing them shut with a snap!

As they sprang away from the beast, they heard a wet slithering sound, and that same cackle of triumph. They silently thanked the lord of the biting quarry, and ran far from the river and its dangers.

But now, the hunter was near starved. The small insects and dessicated grasses they had found along the way did little to abate their hunger. They needed to make a kill or they would surely starve.

And as if by divine will, they came across a river hog hopelessly tangled in a thorny mass of dead vines. It squealed and strained with all its might, but to no avail. The hog collapsed to its side and laid still, chest heaving and showing the terrified whites of its eyes. The hunter sighed in relief and drew their blade.

And suddenly, the hog trembled and burst away, ripping up and dragging all the vines along with it! The hunter was frozen in shock. How was this possible? The hog was as good as dead!

And as if to answer that question, they heard that same slithering, the sound of something heavy dragging its long body over the dry leafbed. And they heard that same cackle, a laugh of triumph, as the prey fled and the hunter starved.

[justnatoka]

Hey there!! saw that your requests were open so i thought i’d share some inspiration<3

david x fem!witch!reader ??

big bad vampire x cutesy witch who could totally give him an aneurysm when he pisses her off vibes lol

need david who’s just soft on his little witch 🕯️🌙🩸

Big bad vampire and his little witch

David x Fem! Witch! Reader

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting! I'm not particularly into the witch/magic user reader fics, but I really enjoyed writing this one! I hope you will like it too, anon! Special shoutout to A Reading by @theyreonlynoodlesmike! It's an amazing fic with a witch reader, and it gave me a lot of motivation and inspiration for writing this.

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: You happen to catch the eye of a certain vampire one night on the boardwalk. All dark, mysterious and handsome; the intrigue in definitely mutual.

Nobody could deny that Santa Carla was a colorful place. People from all different walks of life ended up in the small beach town. It was a place where you wouldn't easily stick out, no matter how you looked or what you did. If a pack of vampires, and a very loud one at that, could operate here without being found out, a humble witch like yourself faced basically zero threat of being outed.

At least you called yourself humble, although in reality you were probably one of the more powerful supernatural beings living in Santa Carla. You didn't like to advertise it, satisfied with leading a quiet life. Business was booming anyway. The little shop you set up on the boardwalk offered a vast array of products and services. You sold all sorts of pretty but useless trinkets, stuff that caught the eyes of tourists because they looked interesting and otherworldly. But a good portion of your products were actually the real deal. Healing stones, charms for protection and prosperity, herbal teas for all sorts of ailments. For some extra cash you also made personalized potions, performed palm or card readings.

Your customers ranged from interested non-believers who were drawn in by your very deliberate aesthetic choices, to spiritual ex-hippies, all the way to people who believed the most harmless pendant you sold held some type of magical power. You've seen and heard it all.

Still, there was one particular person you couldn't help but be intrigued by.

It was an especially busy night on the boardwalk when he first approached you, the air practically buzzing with all the noise and energy. You just said bye to a customer when you felt it again, that light tickling sensation as the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Someone was watching you. You've been feeling it on and off for a while now, not particularly alarmed, more like curious. It wasn't out of the ordinary for people to stare, your unique looks and decorations naturally had that effect; it was something you've counted on to draw in new customers. However, no one has ever been this persistent.

And after a group of teenagers moved on from your table, in a small gap in the crowd you finally spotted him. A stranger, all dark, mysterious and handsome with bleached blond hair was leaning against the back of a game booth, taking slow drags of his cigarette. Even though you couldn't make out the color of his eyes from this distance, you knew they were trained on you with a stare almost unblinking. Just as he moved to push himself away from the wall, a group of people entered your field of vision, and the crowd swallowed him once again.

You were trying to see if you could catch another glimpse of him, but by the time that spot became visible again, he was no longer there.

That's why your heart jumped when the smell of cigarette smoke entered your nose, and he was suddenly standing right in front of you. Not many people were able to sneak up on you like that these days. You weren't even sure he belonged to the category of 'people'. There was a persistent tingling under your skin radiating from the small amulet you've worn around your neck, your magic signaling you that something was not normal about this guy. And as his eyes (a striking blue as you noted) met yours, you were certain he was not human.

You put on your most charming smile as you greeted him.

"Evening, mister! What can I interest you with? I've got many different magic potions and amulets for all kinds of problems," you started your usual spiel, playing into the bright and alluring witch persona you usually put on. Most people like it when it seems like you hold knowledge on all the hidden secrets of the world. They don't need to know that they are partially right.

"You." The single word cuts off your chatting, your rhythm faltering for a moment as his eyes bore into you, and he slowly blows out a cloud of smoke.

"Excuse me?" The tingling in your body started to intensify, becoming sharp, almost like a beast clawing against your nerve endings. It wasn't particularly unpleasant.

"I'm interested in you," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a little smirk.

It was clear you were sizing each other up.

You were searching in the back of your mind for the source of this strange feeling. It was like the answer was right on the tip of your tongue, just out of reach enough that it was driving you crazy. He looked like any other young man on the boardwalk – although a slightly better dressed one –, but as you met his eyes curiously, there was something timeless about them. Then it clicked.

A sweet smile slowly stretched across your lips as you let the innocent facade drop.

"Show me yours, I'll show you mine, vampire."

His smirk became sharper, his irises tainted with yellow for just a moment, the stone around your neck pulsing in answer, the wind chimes hanging from the roof of your shop swinging gently without the slightest breeze in the air.

No one noticed anything, people passing by just as they did before, but something changed between you two that night. He didn't stick around for much longer after that, leaving you with a hint of that tingling in your magic, a lingering scent of cigarette smoke, a mind full of intrigue and a name.

David.

It wasn't long before he started showing up at your shop nearly every night. Sometimes he was with his friends, but most of the time he was alone. You had a feeling he wanted to keep your encounters to himself, and you couldn't particularly blame him. You've made some friends of your own since coming to Santa Carla, but you haven't told them about him either.

There seemed to be an unspoken connection between you, one that grew stronger the more time you spent together. Mostly, he would watch you work, listening in with interest when you performed your readings, asking questions when you made potions, or just simply keeping you company.

Before you realized it, his dark silhouette became a permanent fixture at your shop; taking long drags of his cigarette and leaning against the far side of the counter, close enough to make conversation, but out of the way enough that he didn't scare away potential customers.

However, sometimes he just couldn't help but intervene.

It had been a slow night on the boardwalk, with slightly less people meandering around than usual. You and David had been having light conversation on and off, both of you content with sharing comfortable silences in between.

For some reason, it was always nights like these when weird people found you. The guy that strolled past your shop was pretty unassuming, his eye briefly meeting yours before he seemingly changed his mind and turned back, leisurely making his way over to you.

An easy smile stretched across his lips as he took you in behind your counter with more curiosity. Something about it made your insides squirm.

"Hey there! Pretty sweet setup you have here," he greeted, motioning over your items and decor before his gaze returned to you once again.

You thanked him with your pleasant customer service voice.

"You run this shop all alone?" he asked after pretending to look at some of your merchandise.

There was some unspoken implication in his question that you couldn't quite place. Nothing seemed outwardly wrong about him, but you still couldn't help the hairs standing up on the back of your neck. It wasn't your magic warning you this time, this was the intuition of a woman who has seen things.

"Yes, I do. Have been for a pretty long time," you answered with caution.

His eyes squinted at that.

"Aren't you a bit young to be doing this for a 'long time'?"

Your smile definitely had an edge to it as you replied,

"You don't know how old I am."

Throughout your short exchange you have been growing more and more conscious of David standing not far away. He was half-blending into the shadows, not saying anything, but his presence seemed to have grown heavier. The creep wasn't noticing it though.

He leaned on your counter, his forearms messing up the neat arrangement of charms and amulets in front of you.

"So," he started, his voice conspiratorially low. "You really believe in all this supernatural stuff, huh?"

"I guess I do," you deadpanned. "Comes with the job description."

He breathed out a laugh.

"You're funny. But really, you don't have to lie to me, everyone knows it's all bullshit." There was the slightest hint of condescension in his voice. "Just a way for pathetic folks to deal with life. But you're selling it pretty well," he winked at you.

You were done. You could feel your heartbeat rising, the air around you pulsing with anger. But before you could open your mouth to do some damage, a growl sounded from the shadows lurking around your shop.

In your irritated state you forgot him for a second, but David was quick to step forward.

"I think it's time you fuck off." His tone had an edge that promised danger.

The creep blinked at him, caught off guard for a second. "Where the hell did you come from?"

He swiftly recovered however, answering David's harsh words with some of his own. "And who the fuck are you? I was just having a conversation with her."

David was suddenly standing right in front of him, his hand gripping the guy's shoulder painfully tight. As he leaned in close, his face started to change, his features looking less and less human.

"Fuck. Off." He emphasized his words by snapping sharp teeth at him.

The guy was just about soiling his pants. David gave him a rough push, and he almost fell over his own feet in his haste to scamper off.

When you looked up at the vampire, he was in the process of snuffing out his cigarette just before pulling out another, his face completely back to normal. Noticing your stare, your eyes full of wonder, he cocked up an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You know I could have fried his brain if I wanted to, right?" An amused smile was playing on your lips.

"I know, sweetheart. I just didn't like the way he was talking to you." He wasn't looking you in the eye as he said it.

Oh, he's cute. Your insides were turning mushy from him turning into protective, big bad vampire. With a radiant grin on your face, you beckoned him closer. A small flame lit up at the end of your pinkie, lighting his cigarette for him. Now it was his turn to look at you with wonder.

"Thank you," you murmured, very much enjoying his close proximity.

"Your welcome," he answered with a softness in his gaze that you haven't seen before.

You went back to your usual routine after that; you rearranging your items that were moved out of place and chatting with customers, and him standing to the side listening in. You know he noticed how your heart was beating faster, and he knew you noticed how he moved just a bit closer from his previous position. None of you said anything about the silences between you being feeling charged with something more now either.

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus @000-colby @lunarwhitewolf7 @notalwaysa @binightowl @darlingnikkisixxxx @skrimblo-blumpkgo @wpdarlingpan @gibzzsworld @thelostboysforeva

Leave a comment on this post if you want to be added to my taglist!

[mebis-rain-world-corner]

Within rain world's visual motifs, there's chains

Chains are present throughout the whole game as old remnants and possibly as part of machinery

However, there's places where they show to have a deeper meaning

Shaded "The True Anoited" Citadel, Holy Ground where memories are cherished, has an unique style of column that incorporates a chain motif

it can be better appreciated on the ruins immediately around the shoreline gate, where they're better iluminated

This pattern is also present on the cabinets

This motif runs older though, much much older

to the time of the Depths

A statue of a humanoid, in the classic stance of an echo, chest binded in chains

A head wrapped in chains, to the point of covering all features

...but with an X breaking the pattern, cutting through the chains

In a way, the progression of the higher levels of karma look more like cutting through a knot or a ring, a visual of breaking the cycle

this already gives in the meaning behind this motif: the chains are the cycle, binding the self to the carnal, ascension being the severing of the cycle to move freely above and beyond

Its entire memory is filled with a mantra repeated... 5061 times - and then a termination verse. It was worn as an amulet, probably together with many identical others forming a pattern on some garment. The repeating mantra is important because it symbolizes the cyclical nature of life and death, and the termination verse is a symbol for ascension above and beyond it. I don't know how familiar you are with the nature of life and death, but I imagine like all living creatures you have some intuitive knowledge? Then you know that death isn't the end - birth and death are connected to each other like a ring, or some say a spiral. Some say a spiral that in turn forms a ring. Some ramble in agonizing longevity. But the basis is agreed upon: like sleep like death, you wake up again - whether you want to or not. This is true for all living things, but some actually break the cycle. That doesn't apply to you or me though, you are too entangled in your animal struggles, and for me not breaking that cycle is an integral part of the design. Our mantras keep repeating.

"(...) and then a termination verse"

What is a chain if not a number of interlocked rings? The Shaded Citadel pattern even looks more like a double spiral, a double helix

The urges are also described as "binding"

fun fact one of the elements in an echo's design is called chains

it's the row of golden flakes bound to the legs

considering the depths statues, maybe part of the rituals in preparation for ascension included binding the body in chains, as a metaphor for the binding nature of the cycle, meant to dissolve in the void alongside the body as signifier of the liberation of the mind

[thisonehere]

May you do anything with Lord Raiden pleeease? nsfw, sfw, angst, headcanons, ships oh my god, im will glad anything 😹 You’re the best!

Rain, Rain, Go Away

A/n: *slowly cranes my neck around to look at you*

Aaaanythingggg?

Plot: You stay at Raiden's place to wait out a storm, and things get st(cr)eamy.

C/w: smut, fluff reader gets scared, Lao tries to be a wingman (it goes as well as you think)

"It was a dark and stormy night." Raiden ominously says, flashlight casting shadow over his face. "Hm, How original." Kung Lao briskly jokes causing you to chuckle dryly at Raiden's attempt at a story. Raiden sighs defeatedly as he sits the flashlight beside him and slumps over. "Well, do you have any ideas?"

It was at some point late in the night. A thunder storm had caused all the electricity to go out so it was you three huddled together around a few candles, the light that warded off the darkness around you. You've been at Raiden's place many times, but seeing it at night, during a thunder storm with all the power off, it made you a little nervous.

The rain outside fell down on top of the roof giving a strangely soothing sound, which was the. Disturbed by occasional thunder claps. It got so bad that you were too scared to go out in that.

The darkness combined with the sto had scared you a lot. Embarrassing, you know, but you were just scared that you couldn't fall asleep. So Raiden insisted on you all staying up a little bit late until you felt comfortable going to sleep, much to Lao's protest. Yet here all were.

"Maybe, we could play a board game or something." You say, pulling out a lighter to light another candle. "Fine. Truth or dare." Lao asked, side eyeing you. At this, Raiden's head pops up and his eyes fall on you. "Lao, we both know you get carried away with this game." Raiden gave his friend the most stern looks he can give, but Lao just shrugs. "And when I do, I always get carried in the right direction too. So you two in?" You and Raiden look at each other for the answer. "Only if Y/n's okay with it." Raiden stares at you causing you to blush a little. Thankfully, it's hard to tell thanks to the candle light. "I-I'm okay with it."

"Great! Now, Raiden, I dare you to stand on your head." Lao looked over at Raiden with an exited grin. "Wait, aren't you supposed to ask us the truth or Dare first?" Kung Lao rolls his eyes in an cartoonishly exaggerated manner. "Fine, Truth or Dare? You pick dare? Good! I dare you to stand on your head. Happy now?" Raiden shakes his head as he and you stifle a laugh, you don't want to encourage him.

And the game went on as the storm raged harsher and harsher outside. Raiden had Lao to tell the truth, if he actually forgot his wallet or lied to get Raiden to pay Madame Bo. He did in fact lie. You asked Raiden to truthfully tell you if he has full control of his powers. He doesn't know how powerful he can get, but the amulet sometimes lets him send future messages to his past self, but he's not sure when he'd ever use it. Lao dared you admit who you thought was the hottest, with a sigh you gave a list of movie stars and singers you thought were pretty cute, including Johnny Cage. "And me, right?" "You're not a celebrity, Lao." This caused Lao to rear back and gasp to show that he's offended. "You don't consider me, the Great Kung Lao, descendant of the great Kun Lao, a celebrity? How could you, Y/n?"

"*Sigh* Alright, alright, I think you're pretty cute to Lao, Happy?" At this Lao, now satisfied, happily laid onto his back and rested his hands behind his head. "Very." You try to hold back a laugh as you roll your eyes. As you do, you can't help but notice that Raiden is staring at you hopefully, like he's wants you to say something to him. "I think you're pretty cute too, Raiden." You say, turning to him.

Raiden's eyes widen in shock and he avoids your gaze, it's hard to tell from the candle light, but you can swear that he's blushing. "Alright, it's mine turn again." Lao said as he sits back to face you both. "I dare you two to make out." He says, not showing a sign of hesitation or shame. This time, both of your eyes widen so big that it might even pop out. "What!?!" You gasp. Raiden shook his head in disbelief. You both couldn't believe what Lao just said, all you could do was stare at him dumbfounded.

"What? A dare is a dare. Or are you both...Chicken!" At this, Lao made a clucking sound to mock both of you. "By the Elder Gods." Raiden sighs as his face falls into his hands. You also sigh and look away from him. Even though you were still in shock at what Lao dared, you noticed your face was getting hot. You were blushing again. You looked over to Raiden, his face was covered, but you swore you could catch a hint of blush on his face.

The thought of kissing Raiden, no, making out with him, made you feel hot all over. You never did anything like that before, the same can be said about Raiden. You felt your lips tingle, you don't want to encourage Lao anymore, but you have had a crush on Raiden for the longest. Whenever you were around him you were reduced to a pile of giggling and blushing, you're surprised that you got this far being next to him. He has things about where his calm nature make you feel so safe and peaceful around him. Raiden's peaceful spirit was a strange contrast from Lao and all of the other people he was friends with.

"What? Are you really not going to do it? C'mon, the way you two have been looking at each other, I thought you'd jump at the chance." Raiden raised his head from his hands to look at Lao. "You always go too far, I knew this was a mistake." He said in a stern disapproving voice. "Yeah, And I don't even like Raiden like that." You quickly pip up defensively. You're lying of course, you don't understand your feelings for Raiden and why he made you feel so nervous.

Raiden looks over to you as you say this, there is a glimmer of hurt in his eyes. You immediately regret saying this. Lao raised his hands defeatedly. "Well, excuse me for trying to have some fun." You sighed and shocked your head in disbelief, hoping that neither of them how painted red it was with blush.

You all try to move on with the night, but things aren't the same now. Now, there is a tension between you and Raiden, worse than it was before. It's almost painful to watch, and Lao is sick of it.

"Where are you going?" Raiden asked as Lao grabs a candle and rises to his feet. "To bed. You two can feel free to carry on... whatever's going on between you." The idea of being alone with Raiden made you panic. You were already a blushing and nervous mess in front of him with Lao, fears of what you'd do, how you'd embarrass you, how you'd make Raiden like you less and other such thoughts rab through your head. You watch as Lao walks into the dark, the dim candle he held with him is swallowed while by the dark.

You and Raiden are officially alone.

It is here now that this story divides into two possibilities:

Possibility #1: You and Raiden confess your feelings for each other and cuddle *fluff*

Possibility #2: You and Raiden fuck *smut*

[erika-xero]

REPOSTOBER, day 22: the Champion of Cyrodiil (2015-2017)

TW! this post has some TES-headcanons which might not be everyone's cup of tea, but please, don't judge a woman by her headcanons lmao

Here he is, my weird lil man. His mom worshipped Mephala and almost sacrifised her own newborn child to the Ebony Blade, but his father managed to steal the baby and hide him in Skyrim. Cero was raised in the orphanage (YES, THAT Orphanage) being bullied by the nord children for being, well, an elf. Many years later, Cero became a gladiator in the Imperial City Arena, and this is pretty much where his story begins.

He starts off as a man, who kill people for money at the start of the game, and being an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood doesn't seem any difference, so he joins in.

Lucien, being the one who brought him into the family, fascinates him. Cero soon develops feelings towards the Speaker, which he describes like some sort of a spiritual bond. He can't fully express what exactly he feels (because he is being in denial), so he keeps his feelings to himself, before it is too late.

This was a breaking point for Cero, who was already traumatized by the Purification, so he cut his ties with Dark Brotherhood and excapes, using the chaos of the Oblivion Crisis. After the series of unfortunate events he becomes the one, who carried the Amulet of Kings and the one, who saved Martin in Kvatch. They soon become friends and Martin is the one who actually tries to make Cero a better person. And then Martin dies too.

Being ceverely depressed and traumatized by losing all the people he loved and who were actually nice to him in a quite short period of time, Cero starts drowning himself in alcohol. And at that very moment, the Dark Brotherhood finally show up and capture the man and take him to Bravil for a trial. He manages to excape. And this is when the Shivering Isles storyline begins.

I wrote a bunch of fics (in russian) about Cero in the Shivering Isles, and in my AU he is literally possessed by Sheogorath who takes over his body and desperately try to fight back, and the main antagonist of the story is Haskill, who does everything so that Cero would lose himself and all his memories forever.

Eventually, he manages to take control of his own body for a few times, and one of them happened during the Skyrim timeline:

His body changed over time, he starts looking less than himself and more like Sheogorath: his hair and eyes gone white, his skin became pale and rosy, but he never actually ended up looking the way Haskill wanted him to look. Somewhere after the Skyrim timeline his former self gets in control of his body again and gets in a fight with Haskill. Cero uses the sword of Jyggalag to snap the Staff of Sheogorath in two parts and finally breaks free. He's memory is wague, his feelings are all messed up and he barely understand what is happening, the only thing that keeps him going is his lust for freedom. And this is the point when the events of my Champion/Nerevarine AU begin. Small bonus for everyone, who read it this far: Cero as Jyggalag.

And Cero with his lover - my Nerevarine Raelin, who was the first person he encountered when he finally broke free from the Shivering Isles, and the person who helped him regain all of his memories (she's also probably the only person in the universe who can handle this firce lil man).

And yes, Cero is actually his father's surname. The champion has a name, but the only person who knew his name was Martin.

[flowersofstarlight]

Block By Block: The Amulet ⚔️🛡️

For @blockbyblockseries

(MCSM Remake by WazzyWorks)

This fan-made project is made by Wazzy who rewrites and was able to construct a new story for this game in the form of an animated series and has a lot of help with voice actors, animators, artists, builders, writers, etc. for MCSM fans and newcomers to experience a new story of the Heroes’ journey. This is a remake of MCSM that will be fully-animated and a completely different story from the game.

“Block By Block: The Amulet” is a reimagining of the MCSM game developed by Telltale Games. They also add a lot of newer things that Mojang update for Minecraft like new creatures, blocks, biomes, etc. The axolotes, the Phantoms, the Warden, the amethyst, and Lush Caves did not appear in MCSM since it came out on October 13, 2015.

So as I said before, the remake is going to be completely different from the original game along with the plot, the characters, the locations, and everything. Go subscribe to his channel and watch the trailer if you’re interested to watch it when it releases. Follow @blockbyblockseries to not miss new updates and announcements to see more.

I also wanted to mention that Wazzy and his team are NOT affiliated, nor working with TellTale games or Mojang to bring MCSM games back and make Season 3. Like I said, this is a fan-made project. They had to change the title, the characters’ outfits, add new mobs, biomes, other new things from Minecraft updates, and rewrite the story completely different from the game to avoid copyrights.

The reason why they will not use “Minecraft Story Mode” as the title is because MCSM is owned by Mojang (even though they probably don’t care about it and are not planning to revive it in the future). And it could potentially get them sued, deleted, or anything bad like that might happen to his channel, which I hope that doesn’t! Wazzy and his team work really hard and put a lot of love into creating something amazing for a fan-made MCSM project. I would be really upset if something bad ever happens to their project.

Wazzy, if you’re reading this, I want to let you know that you are awesome and talented! Your team (like the voice actors, animators, artists, and builders) also did an amazing job for this project too! You really brought my childhood back and reminded me of why I love MCSM so much, which I’m really happy about.

It brings me joy to revisit my childhood and see the familiar characters that we know and love. It’s also nice that MCSM is still remembered and fans really love this fan-made project, and are also excited as I am to watch the remake. And your animation skills have improved well and it looks incredible. Outstanding too,

Despite so many flaws MCSM games have, it still holds dear to my heart. The official trailer you released is incredible and made me speechless! The animation, the backgrounds, the lighting, and everything in the trailer looks so COOL! This is a lot more epic than I imagined, and also breathtaking. Knowing how determined and passionate you were with your project, you did a fantastic job to make something awesome!

Anyway, I’m so excited to watch Block By Block: The Amulet when it releases. I hope you and the team will still be able to continue the MCSM remake. It might not be perfect, but I know it will be great and worth the wait. Keep being awesome and have a wonderful day. And I hope you like the fanart I drew. 😊💖✨🌼🌸

[dontfollowme-kay]

Dante's love towards Eva

You can hate Kamiya for the yucky yuck romance potential between Dante and Trish in DMC1, I don't blame you (even though iirc he denied that accusation somewhere on twitter lol). But the thing that Kamiya did well is he actually included cutscenes showed Dante loves his mother, really. In just one game Dante spent about 3-5 times talking/thinking about Eva

"My mother always used to tell me that my father was a man who fought for the weak. He had courage and a righteous heart. In the name of my father I will kill Mundus!"

"Don’t come any closer you Devil! You may look like my mother but you're nowhere close to her. You have no soul! You have the face but you'll never have her fire!"

Mundus: "Those eyes... deep in them I see the same light as in Sparda's eyes."

Dante: "...Why my mother?"

Mundus: "That useless being? If you need a mother, I can create it as many as you want. Just like I created Trish."

Dante: "Silence!"

(You know what he's gonna say next here)

But when Dante was in Itsuno's hands, that "mommy" trait of him somehow was "reduced" post DMC1. The times Dante mentioned Eva ingame became incredibly sparse, and when he did, Dante used Eva to have conversations with Vergil rather than talking about her in a personal way for Dante himself

"So... my mother's amulet is the key that unlocks the door to the demon world. Good plan, pop." (DMC3)

"Yup, this is where it all started. The day mother saved me and... left you behind. The thing you don't know is, she tried to save you, too. She kept searching and searching... Until it killed her..." (DMC5)

"Well lemme jog your memory. A little Vergil crying in the corner because mommy got mad" (also DMC5 but Special Edition)

For a character who's supposed to have mother issues, it would be strange if that character barely was seen having anything to do with his mother. It's interesting if we think of Kamiya Dante as a "mama's boy", then with Itsuno Dante, both Itsuno and fandom seem to make him to be more "brocon" with Vergil entered the picture (please don't take this too literally, I just mean Dante's character focused more around his brother).

[chaoticcultist]

Everyone Meet Chrissy

What do you get when the former Gambling Demon has a daughter with the one and only Angel Dust? Well, you get a four armed cat that's a master con artist even by Hell's standards.

Chrissy works at a seedy carnival where she does Tarot and Palm Readings for anxious Sinners. She can read your future, even change it 'round some too. You may be destined to come to great harm in the next month, but with this amulet she's willing to sell you, you shall have lady luck on your side. A mysterious force cloaked in shadow schemes for your downfall, but if you take a teaspoon of this elixir once a day, you will find all attacks on you redirected. She can give you anything you need for the right price.

When Angel and Husk met their baby girl, they knew they had to do right by her. Unlike Henroin, Angel made sure that his child never questioned his love for her, and Husk always made time for her to make sure she never felt ignored and worthless. Chrissy learned many things from her dads growing up, like how to manipulate cards to win any game, and how to win an unfair fight. "Always bring a gun to the knife fight, baby." "Actually, bring four."

Chrissy loves her dads and hopes to make them proud every day. Even if she isn't confined to the Pride Ring like them and her aunties, she stays close to visit them often in her adulthood. Angel always greets her with a many-armed hug, followed by a wing around the shoulders from Husk.

[bigidiotenergytm]

The god of waves watched as the small king slowly stood up, an amused smirk never once leaving his lips.

There was no way out. Odysseus could escape death no longer. Poseidon knew that. Everyone on the ship knew it.

Oh, how sweet this victory was going to be! After more than a decade of this pointless game of cat and mouse, the god of the seas would finally have the last laugh.

Quiet sobs filled the air, the men aboard crying as they held each other close in their arms, not willing to descend into Hades' domain alone.

Still, in spite of his ruthless reputation, Poseidon was just. He had offered the captain a chance to appease him in order to save himself and his crew.

Regardless of how much he wanted to see the prideful Greek dead, he wouldn't go back on his word. He would answer the captain's question for he saw no harm in doing so.

"Yes, indeed."

He began speaking, shrugging nonchalantly as he replied.

"You've committed many crimes against me. That I cannot forgive. You've blinded a son of mine and boasted about it.

Had you simply killed him, you could've avoided all of this. His death would've been honourable for he would've died in combat.

But no. You couldn't help leaving him alive, bleeding and weeping in pain."

The lord of the ocean continued his speech. His voice was furious, as if recounting the king's acts of blasphemy lit the rage within him anew.

"Of course, that wasn't enough for a man such as you. You ran away from my divine punishment like a coward, hiding for over a decade, though it was all in vain.

Had you forgotten who I was? That you lived on an island? That no matter where you hid, I would always find you?

Even if you had managed to, by some miracle, evade me, I could've always turned your dear little kingdom into another Atlantis."

Poseidon concluded his monologue with a cocky smile. Pressing his trident further into Odysseus, the god, once again, gave him the final choice.

"Now, choose: either get in the water or offer me something that could compensate for your sins. If such a thing even exists, of course."

Poseidon speaks. And Odysseus tries. Tries to listen to him instead of the men that are sobbing. He knows. He knows all of what the Sea God says and is about to say. He hadn't been the only one asking why the mortal let the Cyclops live when-

The king blinks himself out of his thoughts. Only for a RAGE and DREAD so deep to hit him when his island comes from Poseidon's lips. Perhaps his trembling was a blessing in disguise. If he hadn't from the fear, his anger at the God threatening his son and wife would've. But that trident presses more into him. KEEPING HIM AT BAY.

"... leave me alive," Odysseus begins, repeating the God of Storm's words, "You... You can take my blood. M-My weeps. My reputation. ... me."

"I'm— I'm a king." A hand goes to his medallion pinned on his cloak. Gripping it. Making it tremble within his hands. It resembles all of what Odysseus represents. A king. A Warrior of the Mind. Athena's side broken as she denounced him. It resembles all of who he is. And can easily begin to resemble all of who he WAS. His hand goes to the chain that attaches to the amulet. Shakily unpinning the thing so important to him. All to toss it aside.

It's not the only thing that goes. His opposite hand finding its way to the golden band around his arm. Another thing tying him to royalty. The band he'd traded Penelope as he'd given her the band he had worn around his forehead as well to remember him. As a promise he'd return home one day. And it, too, is tossed aside.

Arms shrinking in then to quickly pull his cloak over his head to let it join the other symbols. The cold air of Poseidon's sea wrap around his shoulders. And he stands there. Stripped to being JUST A MAN.

"And let everyone know, the King of Ithaca... DETHRONED himself to be your humble SERVANT."

[shadrell]

I absolutely have no energy and time to anything more than messy sketches due to the work and college

But I want to show you my girls!

☽ Cersei

Same age as Luke, arrived at Camp a year before him. Stays year-round.

Masterful at creating illusions. Rings are made of celestial bronze and can transform into claws.

Magpie; Cool big sis vibes, sometimes gives gifts to younger campers or gives advice, but otherwise doesn't get too involved in their lives; draws a lot to create more realistic illusions; reads tarot, but doesn't have the gift of foresight; each amulet has some small enchantment, and it's hard to say which ones actually work.

✧ Agnes

Same age as Percy, arrived at Camp two years before him. Stays only for the summer.

Can fly by controlling the winds, but often falls when she's very close to the ground.

Windy, mischievous, hyperactive (even for a demigod); lucky in all sorts of games if she tries them for the first time; loves to play pranks on other campers, but her pranks are always harmless; when she comes to the Camp at the beginning of summer, she always brings sweets from home, and does not hesitate to share them with others; her hair is white due to albinism, but with age it gradually acquires a yellow tint, and her eyes become less transparent.

Both of them dies in the battle for Manhattan, as many other demigods. But I have an AU with alive Bianca and so my girls alive here too. I love drama of original books, but AU where everyone alives just needed for my mental health.

[klavery]

My 5 Year Old Forever World!

This is just a general infodump post about my bedrock world, posts going into more specific locations and builds will follow...

the top image is the center of my area & main base, its... a unique build. heres a sky view of the land + a (slightly outdated) map (orientation marked 4 convenience)

Bulleted info!

my singleplayer world was originally created on 4/20/20 in version 1.15 on my switch, the current file size is 801.1mb, and the seed is 285279141 (i dont actually remember if i entered a seed or not, it mightve been something dumb like dragonheartshipping4lyfe or iheartirisxbenga, bcuz i was obsessed w them at the time HDHDGD). i am currently at 10009 in-game days, and my account playtime is 135 days and 12 hours (3200+ hours). aside from my test world and a couple copies it is the only world i play on bedrock.

i play on survival + normal difficulty and have cheats enabled, so on bedrock that sadly means no achievements. cheats i play with/have played with are keepinventory, teleport, use of barrier blocks, wandering trader spawns off, fire tick off, and creative/spectator in place of free-cam. before spectator was added i used the program amulet to serve its purpose. i have yet to see credits, get elytra, shulker boxes, or a beacon. i have also used online tools like chunkbase for locating biomes/structures, and amulet to trim my world.

sometimes i plan builds in a creative test world and copies of my survival world. i know this kind of thing can seem pointless, but i just dont get the same sense of satisfaction just building in a creative world. heres what my test world looks like!

my "build style" is over-detailed and inconsistent! i understand not many people enjoy that, but i do, i think its really fun! building whatever i want where ever i want with no regard to the surrounding builds was a staple of my world from the very beginning. it takes a lot of the stress off of just simply playing a video game! this is also a good time to mention that half my base is located underground, so theres a lot not visible in the overhead view! also also, disclaimer that some builds in my world are not of my own design (they are directly copied) or take inspiration from others! i usually look to google images, hermitcraft, and fellow tumblr users for insp.

i save back ups frequently, to my internal hard drive, usb sticks, and my google accounts. ive lost a couple minecraft worlds over the years and do NOT plan on losing this one.

Some Background Info(Dump)!

so my world was originally started on my switch. i actually bought the game on a whim the day before i started it cuz i could (stimulus money). and having not played minecraft regularly at all for a few years, i was excited to get back into it, and being able to lay down while playing. that was a pretty big justification for getting bedrock while already owning java gdgffj.

but of course, that inevitable 2 week minecraft curse that seems to haunt the fandom came for me too. though, for me, the curse tends to crop up at the point im meant to enter the nether. this is the fate many of my old survival worlds had fallen victim to, being abandoned as soon as that portal gets lit, it was like, tradition for me. i could never stay dedicated to my worlds because the monsters, and dying in the game, scared me. that, and being overwhelmed by building. for some reason, i always thought building in the game was a lot harder than it really is. i think i just didnt have the practice, or confidence. these things are why ive had long minecraft droughts, despite really enjoying the game.

so i took a couple months break, believing this to be another case of a neglected world. but the thing that actually inspired to return was hermitcraft. i saw what they did, what they built and what they accomplished, and thought to myself, why couldnt i try harder to be like them? so eventually i returned to my most recent world, i didnt make a new one, and start over, as most people in this same situation do. i continued from where i left off, and, allowed myself to use keepinventory for the first time.

...that is until, after 9 months of owning bedrock, my switch decided to lock me out of the game. less than a year in, the data generated in my world, through natural intended gameplay (exploring WITHOUT the use of online biome and structure finding tools), had exceeded the switchs apparent limits. i know i had free space on AT LEAST the sd card, and yet it refused to let me keep playing, saying to, and i quote, "delete some stuff" so i could play again. aside from a test world that had to have been less than a megabyte in size, i didnt have any other "stuff" to delete to free up room. i thought this was the end of my beloved world until i did some research. buying a realm, copying my world to that realm, and then buying the windows version of bedrock on my laptop and saving the world to it from the realm was the one way to get my save off my switch without hacking it. so i ended up not only purchasing a useless realm, but an entirely new copy of the game just to continue playing on this one world. that probably gives you an idea of how dedicated i am and have been to it, lmao. i have played it pretty regularly ever since.

its so funny to me how what i thought at the time was just another "2 week" throw-away world became something so much more to me. ive never played this game for so long and so consistently, ive never gotten so much done in it, not even in old creative worlds. its really amusing how early builds like my starter house look exactly like all my other builds from my much older java worlds, "build style"-wise, compared to how i do it now.

so, as someone whos been so fiercely dedicated to the same world for half a decade, i just wanna express my love for the forever world trend thats going on right now. thats what inspired me to wanna post about my personal minecraft experience more. i rarely ever do, and thats because.. well, idk. ive become very passive with talking about myself or my interests lately. i guess im also afraid of being judged, because im gonna be real here, the minecraft community is deeply and obnoxiously obsessed with how people play the game, and what the "right" and "wrong" ways to do things in the game are. it really, really gets on my nerves. its one of those things where id prefer to just not get involved. so ive just kept stuff about my play-through to myself this whole time. but the mindset behind the forever world concept going around right now has given me some confidence!

so yeah!! i'll be trying to post more about my time with the game from now on! 🩷

[bentaygas]

Marked by Fire (Chapter 10)

Chapter 10 - No Rest for the Wicked

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Alina Vaughn (OC)

Summary: Dean Winchester has seen his fair share of trouble. He’s hunted monsters, tangled with demons, and stared down the end of the world more times than he cares to count. But when a job leads him to a black-market dealer with a reputation for selling supernatural artifacts to the highest bidder, he finds himself caught in something far more dangerous than he expected.Alina Vaughn doesn’t do favors. She doesn’t trust easily, doesn’t take unnecessary risks. But when the Winchesters come knocking, looking for an Enochian sigil amulet that shouldn’t even exist, she gets pulled into a game of power, secrets, and dangerous men who don’t take no for an answer.What starts as a business transaction quickly spirals into something bigger—something neither of them can walk away from. Because in this world, knowledge is power, and power is always dangerous. And for Dean Winchester and Alina Vaughn, the real question isn’t just whether they can survive what’s coming.It’s whether they can survive each other.

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, age gap, UST (unresolved sexual tension), unresolved romantic tension, Dean Winchester has feelings (and hates it), angst (sort of)

You can find this work on AO3: Marked by Fire

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The town of Lebanon lay draped in the hush of early morning, the sky still painted in the muted grays and soft purples of late November’s dawn. The sun had barely breached the horizon, its light diffused by the skeletal outlines of bare trees and the last stubborn wisps of autumn fog curling through the streets.

Alina’s hands flexed against the leather of the steering wheel, muscles stiff from hours of driving, the weight of exhaustion settling deep in her bones. She had been on the road all night, the adrenaline that once kept her sharp now dulled by the steady hum of the engine and the rhythmic flicker of passing mile markers.

But as she rolled into town, that familiar sense of awareness stirred beneath her fatigue.

The place was too quiet.

Not the usual stillness of a small town waking up, but something deeper, more ingrained—the kind of silence that came with knowing you were being watched, even when you couldn’t see the eyes on you.

Her gaze flicked to the buildings lining the narrow streets. A handful of houses, their porches lined with rocking chairs that hadn’t been used in decades. A gas station with a single car parked out front, its owner leaning against the hood, sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup. A diner, the neon OPEN sign glowing faintly against the pavement, though no one lingered inside.

The kind of town where strangers were noticed.

And she?

She might as well have rolled in with a damn spotlight on her.

Her G-Class was a foreign presence against the backdrop of rusting trucks and midwestern practicality, its deep black paint gleaming under the weak sunlight, an unspoken challenge to the normalcy surrounding it. The kind of car that didn’t belong here.

The kind of car people remembered.

She kept her speed slow, careful, resisting the urge to check the rearview mirror again. The feeling of being hunted hadn’t left her, even after losing her tail miles back. Instinct had kept her alive too many times for her to ignore it now.

The GPS guided her forward, the mechanical voice cutting through the quiet.

In two hundred feet, turn left.

She frowned.

The road ahead stretched toward nothing—just open land, empty fields swallowing the horizon under the first streaks of morning light.

No signs.

No markers.

Just a single, unassuming dirt road veering off the main street, leading into what looked like nowhere.

She double-checked the coordinates Dean had sent—exact match.

Her fingers drummed against the wheel, hesitation flickering at the edge of her thoughts.

If this were anywhere else, she might have questioned it.

Might have suspected a setup.

But this was the Winchesters’ domain.

If they had a hideout, it wouldn’t be in plain sight.

Alina exhaled, rolling her shoulders before flicking the turn signal—a pointless gesture, considering there wasn’t another car in sight. The G-Class veered off the paved road, the hum of tires shifting into the crunch of dirt and gravel beneath her.

The further she drove, the more the town disappeared behind her, swallowed by endless stretches of barren fields and telephone poles that stood like silent sentinels against the open sky.

This wasn’t just out of the way.

This was deliberate.

That place—wherever it was—wasn’t meant to be found.

And for the first time since she’d gotten the coordinates, she realized:

Maybe that was the point.

Dean heard it before he saw it.

The low, steady growl of an engine cut through the crisp morning air, distinct against the silence that blanketed the landscape. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t erratic. Just controlled, deliberate. The sound of someone who wasn’t in a panic—someone who knew exactly where they were going.

His grip on the gun tightened for a half-second before his instincts told him there was no immediate threat. Still, his stance remained firm, shoulders squared, as his eyes locked onto the approaching vehicle.

The black G-Class emerged from the fading mist, rolling toward the entrance with a slow, measured ease. Gravel crunched beneath its weight before it came to a deliberate stop, headlights cutting out as the engine gave one last purr before settling into silence.

She was here.

Dean exhaled through his nose, lowering his coffee cup slightly, but he didn’t move.

The driver’s door opened.

And then, finally—

Alina stepped out.

She looked like hell.

Dark circles smudged the delicate skin beneath her eyes, the kind that didn’t come from a single sleepless night but from a string of them, layered exhaustion that settled deep. Her usually sharp, polished presence was dulled slightly by fatigue—edges still there, still cutting, but softened by wear.

Her hair, which was normally pristine—smooth waves styled to perfection—was now slightly out of place, a few errant strands falling forward, betraying the hours she had spent behind the wheel. The same expensive leather jacket from the night before hung loosely on her frame, creased from travel, evidence of a body pushed past its limits but still moving forward.

She stretched, rolling her shoulders, the motion slow and deliberate, as if testing the stiffness in her muscles. The long drive had taken its toll. The weariness clung to her, but she carried it well—like someone who had long since learned to function despite it.

And then, finally, she shut the door and turned her gaze to him.

Her expression was unreadable.

“Relax, Winchester.” Her voice was smooth, but laced with fatigue, that usual thread of dry amusement softened at the edges. “If I was gonna kill you, I wouldn’t have driven all night to do it.”

Dean huffed a quiet laugh, slipping the gun back into the waistband of his jeans. “Yeah? Must be my lucky day.”

Alina smirked faintly, but something flickered behind her eyes—something he couldn’t quite pin down. A thought left unspoken. A calculation still running.

“We’ll see.”

She moved toward him, the fatigue evident in every step—no hesitation, just the kind of exhaustion that settled into the bones. But even through the weariness, she was still Alina.

Still watching.

Still calculating.

Dean watched her just as carefully.

She wasn’t just tired.

She was thinking.

She was always thinking.

He sighed, finally breaking the moment, gesturing toward the entrance. “C’mon. You look like you need about twelve hours of sleep.”

Alina scoffed lightly, arching a brow, a hint of amusement creeping into her otherwise drained expression. “You buying?”

Dean smirked, stepping aside to let her pass. “Sweetheart, I’d pay good money to not have to deal with your sleep-deprived ass right now.”

She chuckled under her breath, shaking her head as she walked past him, stepping into the bunker.

Finally.

Alina’s boots barely made a sound against the cold, polished floor as she followed Dean through the dimly lit hallway. The air held a faint trace of old paper and gun oil, mingling with something deeper—something that smelled like history, like time pressed into stone.

Her gaze swept over the details, cataloging everything.

The architecture was older than she expected—Cold War-era, probably. Thick steel-reinforced walls, heavy doors that locked with a weighty finality. The kind of place that wasn’t just meant to keep people out.

It was meant to keep something in.

This wasn’t just a safe house. It was a fortress.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, resisting the urge to touch the cold concrete walls as they passed. This was the kind of place that had secrets buried beneath its foundations, the kind of place built for war—not comfort.

And yet, somehow, it was lived in. Worn. A home, in its own way.

Ahead, standing with his arms crossed like he was preparing for a fight, was Sam Winchester.

He didn’t say anything at first—just watched her with that assessing gaze, sharp and dissecting, like he was waiting for her to make the wrong move.

Alina smirked, tilting her head. “Relax, Winchester. I left my murder plans in the car.”

Sam didn’t return the smile. His expression remained unreadable, but there was something edged beneath it—mistrust, maybe. Caution.

“We’ll see about that,” he said evenly.

Dean snorted, shaking his head as he pushed forward. “Alright, play nice, kids.”

The hallway widened into a vast room—a space that felt equal parts war room and ancient library.

Alina’s steps slowed slightly.

Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, packed with tomes that looked older than any living person. Heavy wooden tables were cluttered with handwritten notes, faded maps, and pages filled with symbols she recognized but couldn’t always translate. A massive, round light fixture hung overhead, casting a soft, golden glow over everything.

The space was impressive. Functional.

But more than that—it was lived in.

The edges of the bookshelves were scuffed, the leather chairs worn from years of use. A few mismatched coffee cups sat abandoned near stacks of papers. A hunting knife had been left embedded in a thick hardcover book like it was just another paperweight.

This wasn’t just a research room.

It was a life.

Alina exhaled slowly, dragging her fingers along the smooth wood of the nearest table.

Interesting.

Dean dropped into one of the worn wooden chairs with all the ease of someone who had spent years making himself at home in places built for war. He stretched out, boots planted firmly on the ground, green eyes sharp but lazy—like he was waiting to see what she’d do.

Sam, still standing, remained cautious.

Alina leaned against the table, crossing her arms as she met Dean’s gaze. “So. This is where the magic happens?”

Dean smirked. “Something like that.”

She tilted her head slightly, scanning the towering bookshelves once more. “No offense, but it’s a bit… rustic.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, well, we don’t all have penthouse views and designer furniture.”

Alina’s lips curved faintly. “Pity.”

Sam cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the moment like a blade. “Why don’t we cut to the chase?”

Alina sighed, dragging a hand through her hair before pushing off the table. “Right. Business.”

Her gaze flicked downward. The Enochian amulet sat in the center of the table, its dull metallic surface catching the dim light in uneven glints. It looked unassuming, ordinary. But it wasn’t.

It radiated something old. Something powerful.

And it was theirs now.

Dean leaned forward, elbows braced against his knees, his expression shifting into something more serious. “You ready to tell us why you really handed that over?”

Alina met his gaze. And smiled.

“Not yet.”

Dean exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s what I thought.”

Sam shot him a look before turning his focus back to her, studying her closely, still trying to read her. “You drove all night,” he said, voice even but firm. “It can wait. Grab a few hours of sleep, then we talk.”

Alina arched a brow. “Didn’t think you were the sentimental type, Winchester.”

Sam didn’t blink. “I’m not. But if we’re gonna get any real answers, I’d rather you not be half-dead when we have this conversation.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his jaw, hesitating. He didn’t like this. Didn’t like that she was here, in their space, in their world. They hardly ever brought anyone into the bunker—except those they trusted. And Alina Vaughn?

They didn’t trust her.

Not yet.

Still, she had come here instead of disappearing into the wind. She had the amulet in her hands and had given it up—without payment, without conditions. That meant something.

Dean sighed, pushing back against the chair. “Sam’s right,” he admitted. “You look like hell.”

Alina smirked faintly. “Charming.”

Dean smirked right back. “I know.”

He jerked his head toward the hallway. “There’s a room down the hall. It ain’t a five-star suite, but it’s got a bed.”

Alina hesitated, eyes flicking between them. Not because she didn’t want to sleep—she was running on fumes—but because she knew what this was.

They were still keeping her at arm’s length. Still measuring her, testing the waters, keeping her at just enough of a distance that they had the upper hand.

She couldn’t blame them.

If the situation were reversed, she’d do the same.

Finally, she nodded, pushing off the table. “Alright, Winchester. But don’t go through my stuff while I’m out.”

Dean grinned. “No promises.”

Sam just sighed, already reaching for the book closest to him.

Alina didn’t say anything else. Just turned on her heel and followed the hallway, her steps slow, unhurried.

They didn’t trust her.

But they were letting her stay.

And for now, that was enough.

The bunker was quiet. Not silent—there was always some low hum in the background, the faint buzz of old wiring running through thick concrete walls, the distant drip of a pipe somewhere in the unseen depths of the structure—but compared to the outside world, it was damn near peaceful.

Dean led the way, boots heavy against the tiled floor, the sound muffled by the sheer weight of the space around them. The air was cool, still. Underground, time didn’t move the same way. There were no windows, no shifting sunlight to mark the hours. Just the steady glow of overhead fixtures casting soft, golden light over the long hallways.

The bunker’s layout was second nature to him—like muscle memory. Every corridor, every turn, every doorway. It was one of the few places in his life that had ever felt permanent, the closest thing to a home he and Sam had known in years.

But for Alina, it was uncharted territory.

She didn’t speak as they walked, but he could feel her eyes moving over everything. Cataloging. Measuring. The heavy stone archways, the old-world craftsmanship of the art deco fixtures, the endless maze of corridors lined with metal doors, each leading to another piece of the bunker’s past. It wasn’t designed to be welcoming. It was designed to keep people out. Or, if necessary, to keep something in.

And yet, despite its cold, unyielding walls, Dean could tell she wasn’t unnerved. If anything, she was analyzing it the same way he had when he first arrived—looking for weaknesses, for exits, for the ways in and out.

Hunter instincts.

They passed through a wider section of the hallway where the doors changed, where the design shifted from war room and archive to something more lived-in. The residential wing. Most of the rooms were identical—small, practical, built for function over comfort.

Dean stopped in front of one and pushed the door open with his shoulder. “This one’s yours for now.”

Alina stepped inside, her boots barely making a sound against the cold floor.

The room was plain—bare, even. A neatly made bed with standard-issue sheets, the corners tucked military-tight. A wooden nightstand with a simple lamp. A desk with an empty shelf above it, the surface free of any signs of past occupants. A small, dusty mirror hung on the wall, its reflection dull in the dim lighting.

No personal touches. No warmth.

Just like every other room in this place.

Alina exhaled through her nose, her expression unreadable, but Dean caught the smallest flicker of something. Not disappointment. Not quite.

Something else.

Detachment.

Like she had long since learned not to expect comfort.

Dean, for some reason, didn’t like that.

He shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck before muttering, “I’ll grab some extra blankets.”

Alina arched a brow, amusement flickering beneath her exhaustion. “Afraid I’ll freeze to death?”

Dean scoffed. “Nah. Just don’t need you bitching at me when you wake up cranky.”

She hummed, lips curling slightly, but didn’t argue.

Dean turned on his heel, heading toward the storage room. The blankets were easy enough—thick, military-grade ones they kept stashed away, built more for utility than comfort. He pulled two from the neatly stacked pile, shaking out the stiffness before draping them over his arm.

Then, on the way back, he hesitated.

His steps slowed as he passed his own room, his hand hovering over the door handle for just a second before he pushed inside.

It was barely lived-in—just enough to be his. A duffel in the corner, a half-drunk beer on the nightstand, a few old tapes stacked near the record player.

His eyes landed on the folded T-shirt sitting on his dresser.

It wasn’t like he had a ton of spare clothes lying around. It was just a shirt. Soft, worn-in cotton, nothing fancy. Same with the flannel he tossed over it. Just something to sleep in. She’d been in the same damn clothes for… hell, how long now?

He wasn’t thinking about how they’d fit on her.

Or how they’d smell like him.

Nope. Not thinking about that at all.

With a grunt, he grabbed the clothes, shoving them beneath the blankets before heading back.

The soft creak of the door barely made a sound against the weight of silence pressing over the room. Dean stepped inside, the dim overhead light casting long shadows against the stone walls.

Alina was sitting on the edge of the bed, taking her leather jacket off with slow, methodical movements. She rolled her shoulders, tilting her neck just enough for a faint pop to break the stillness—working out the knots of exhaustion knotted deep in her muscles. Twelve hours on the road. No stops. No real rest.

She looked like she felt every damn mile.

Dean tossed the folded bundle onto the bed beside her. “Here.”

She barely glanced at it at first, then arched a brow, her fingers pausing against the sleeve of her jacket. “Blankets and… wardrobe service?”

Dean shrugged, playing it off like it was nothing. “Figured you’d wanna get outta those clothes at some point.”

Alina finally reached for the top of the pile, fingers brushing over the soft, worn fabric of the flannel. She held it between her fingertips, rubbing the material lightly, something unreadable flickering behind her expression. It was brief—gone before he could pin it down.

Then, as if catching herself, she smirked. “Didn’t peg you for a generous host.”

Dean leaned against the doorway, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she dropped the flannel onto the bed beside her. The expression didn’t quite reach her eyes, though. Something about it felt... measured.

She didn’t say thank you.

But for some reason, Dean didn’t need to hear it.

He pushed off the doorframe, nodding toward the hallway. “Bathroom’s down the hall. If you crash now, you’ll probably wake up to Sam hovering over some book, muttering about ancient curses.”

Alina’s smirk lingered. “Sounds like a thrilling morning.”

Dean smirked right back. “Oh yeah. Real exciting around here.”

Her gaze flickered, something heavy settling behind those blue eyes. He could see it—the exhaustion coiling in her limbs, the way her body was starting to register the toll of the last twelve hours. She’d pushed through, run on fumes and adrenaline, but that was wearing off now.

Dean tilted his head toward the bed. “Get some sleep, Vaughn. We can play twenty questions when you’re not about to faceplant.”

Alina exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over her face. She didn’t argue. That alone told him how damn exhausted she was.

She leaned back slightly, stretching her legs out before murmuring, “Don’t let me sleep too long.”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, sweetheart, if you start snoring, I’m dumping a bucket of water on you.”

Alina huffed a quiet laugh, but her eyelids were already getting heavier.

Dean turned toward the door, pausing just before stepping into the hall. “Try not to stab anyone in your sleep.”

Her voice followed him, softer than usual. “No promises.”

Dean shook his head, shutting the door behind him.