#what remains of her human body on the giant tree monster

[deet-doot]

i know it's a whole expansion later but i still think about agdistis

[materlux]

Cynefin.

Cynefin: (n.) A place where a person or an animal feels it ought to live and belong; it is where nature around you feels right and welcoming.

The Xianzhou Yaoqing arrives at a former universal trading planet, now vacant of its former prime. The General, unable to go herself, sends her most trusted advisors to inspect the planet. You are the thing they find, something with a stark resemblance to an abomination.

CW: Mention of: Injury, sort of angst like, kinda fluff too, monster!reader, 1.5k words.

Honkai Star Rail | Main Masterlist

This planet had experienced a catastrophic incident many amber eras ago, this has left its remaining life forms cut off from the rest of the cosmos. The people of this planet are, what the Genius Society would label, primitive. They do not understand the giant metal structures left behind by their forefathers, they have no knowledge of the aeons, or of the place they once occupied in the vast universe. To put it simply, it’s like someone pressed the ‘reset’ button on their civilization.

   The Xianzhou Yaoqing sits a distance away from the solar system, it’s a part of the Alliance's duties to form allyships across the cosmos, and protect the unknown universe in their ongoing war against Yaoshi, the abundance. A group of knights along with the General’s own chosen representatives, and a representative from the Skyfaring Commision, have made landfall.

   While the representative has the job of creating connections among the locals, the General’s representatives have other orders; to inspect the land and look for any possible signs of abominations. Boots thud against stone roadways, two men not clad in uniforms make their way to a market square. Tall pinkish ears twitch at every sound; sharp plum coloured eyes scan the plaza. Of course the General would only send her most trusted retainers, Jiaoqiu and Moze.

   The plaza is alight with noise, bustling with people selling and buying goods. Odd smells from local cuisine wafts through the heavy air, chatter overlaps and repetitive shouts bounce off the nearby houses. In simple terms, the plaza is overwhelming. The retainers keep close, following the flow of the crowd, asking merchants and shoppers odd questions. No good answers, most have nothing of note to offer. Except for one shady looking travelling merchant from a neighbouring town, they claim that unlike others they use the forest as a shortcut, in the forest they have seen a monster; something human, animal, and plant, all at once. The retainers thank the traveller, now this was a good lead.

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   The forest ahead is dense, giant trees sway gently in the wind, tall undergrowth plants make for great cover. Jiaoqiu trails after Moze down a dirt path, his ears flick at every rustle of leaves, Moze watches the undergrowth for movement. The locals confirmed the traveller’s claim, but they also added their own: Ghosts.

   Something small, pale, and inhuman stands in the middle of the path. Its head tilts that and this way, before its stubby legs take it towards them. Moze stops on the path to stare down at it, if not for his great hearing the foxian would have slammed right into him.

   “Moze, why did you stop?” The foxian asks.

   “A ghost.” Is the simple answer he gets.

   “Is it cause for concern?” Jiaoqiu prods.

   “I doubt it.” The shadow guard continues down the pathway, ignoring the small spirit.

   “How comforting.” If Moze could see his eyes, he’d roll them for extra effect.

   The spirit watches them leave before wandering into the undergrowth, it joins others of its kin, gathered around a large human-like body. The creature stretches and stands, mellow eyes look at the retainers in the distance, curiosity makes it follow.

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   Jiaoqiu sits back on a rock, the clearing allows sunlight to warm the air. Moze has disappeared into the undergrowth, searching the surrounding area for any clues. Leisurely the foxian waves a fan back and forth, the short bursts of air makes his hair sway. Your eyes follow the movement of the fan, they glide over his facial features. He reminds you of the locals in build, but much like you, he’s not entirely human.

   His tail, fluffy and dense, flicks from one side to the other, your own tail mimics the movement. You sit only a few feet away from him, his eyes are closed, he’s relaxed you conclude. You adjust yourself, his ear flicks, yours mimics.

   “Moze?” His voice is soft, your own ear flicks again.

   You move closer, staying low to the ground. You sit on your haunches, now right before him, you tilt your head. A hand with sharp nails reaches out, gentle as a summer’s breeze, you ghost across the skin of his hand. He flinches away, and you lean away, a low rumbling sound echoes from deep in your chest. His brows furrow, the relaxed look on his features bleeds away, giving way to concern, fear perhaps.

   “Hello?” He calls, voice no longer soft.

   “Hello?” You mimic his speech, although your voice is hoarse and the sound is muddled. The foxian considers his options, you don’t seem hostile, but your nature is still unknown. If you do become hostile, or grow bored, there’s not much he can do against you. Being unable to see your movements, if you’re armed or unarmed, based on the hand that grazed his skin, you certainly have sharp nails.

   “Moze!” He calls into the forest, it’s the best option he could come up with, the shadow guard wouldn’t have gone far.

   “Moze?” You attempt to mimic him again, this is not a word you recognise.

   In your speculation, you don’t notice the figure coming up behind you, his footsteps completely silent. A hand grabs the back of the fabric draped over your body, you’re reeled back and trapped before you even see his face. You begin to fight back, instinct kicking in, you trash around sharp nails searching for exposed skin. Various rumbling noises, akin to growling, shake your chest as you tilt your head to look back at your assailant.

   Weight presses against your back, Moze’s cold hand unwinds from the fabric and wraps around the back of your neck, pressing down. You still, fighting a hunter when they have you by the neck is a dangerous game, one wrong move and it could end you. You breathe heavy, eyes wide and staring back at his own, sharp eyes.

   “Moze?” Jiaoqiu calls in a soft voice, his head tilting down in the direction of the scuffle.

   “Yes, I’m here.” The man above you calls back, you can now conclude that he is Moze.

   “Well?” The foxian asks expectantly, his ears twitching at the bird song.

   “I think we’ve found the monster in the forest.” He gazes down at you, analysing your every feature. “Something human, animal and plant. Certainly looks like an abomination.” He looks up at the foxian. Abomination, a word you recognise, maybe you should stay quiet, for your own sake.

   “Mean.” You can’t help it, the word just slips out before you can think too much about it. Jiaoqiu laughs quietly while Moze looks down at you, you flick your tail around, clearly annoyed by the comment.

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   Having done their job, the retainers return to their ship, and you are brought along, willingly or otherwise. With bound arms you sit on the floor, the foxian sits in a chair not far from you, the other guy is nowhere to be seen. You attempt to curl up while still sitting up, this fails and you come crashing down against the metal flooring, which hurts alot when you can’t catch yourself.

   Jiaoqiu’s ears twitch at the thud, and something in his subconscious reacts to the, arguably pitiful noise you let out. You exhale a deep breath and curl up on the floor instead, feeling quite defeated at this point. The foxian stands and with slow careful steps, moves closer to your body. You let out a noise in warning, and he stops a few steps away.

   “Are you okay?” He asks, you stare up at him, unamused and wholly confused by his speech.

   “Okay,” he breathes, carefully he crouches down next to you. “That sounded like it hurt.”

   “Hurt,” you repeat, it’s a word you recognise the meaning of, and it did hurt. Jiaoqiu sits down on the floor, his head tilted towards the ceiling.

   “You know, I used to be a healer,” he reminisces, “I could help you, if only a little.” You don’t understand a word coming out of his mouth.

   The foxian reaches out a careful hand, you watch it closely as it hovers over the ground, softly it makes contact with the base of your neck. You shiver involuntarily, he moves his hand up to your hair, a gentle caress. You allow this to happen, he doesn’t strike you as intimidating. 

   The other man, Moze, walks back into the room, he looks over the scene before he sighs. “You’re not supposed to be friendly with an abomination.” You glare at him.

   “We don’t know if they’re an abomination, that’s for the Alchemy Commision to figure out.” The foxian carefully weaves his fingers through your tangled hair.

   “It looks like an abomination,” Moze counters, stepping closer to look over the man, you glare back at him.

   “Looks can be deceiving,” Jiaoqiu speaks in a soft voice, it’s soothing to your ears, they flick, one grazing the skin of his wrist. “Plus, they’re under our care for the time being.”

   “So? They’ll probably end up locked away.” Moze returns your glare, equally unamused by your presence, the small scratches he just spent far too long cleaning and wrapping are reason enough.

   “That’ll be for the General to decide.” Jiaoqiu is oblivious to your little staring match with the man looming over his shoulder. “And who knows, perhaps they aren’t of the abundance at all.” He muses, Moze scoffs and you mimic the sound.

[folksaga-if]

“It is a long story, and it does no credit to anyone: there is murder in it, and trickery, lies and foolishness, seduction and pursuit.  Listen."

- Neil Gaiman, Norse Mythology

You are a human. A totally normal one.

Honestly.

You’re a human. You’re a bartender, which is a very normal job for a human to have, and when you walk down the winding streets of Akureyri you can blend seamlessly into any crowd of people which is, without question, only something that a human could do.

The fact that you came here two years ago with nothing but the clothing on your back doesn’t mean anything; you’re hardly northern Iceland’s first wayfaring soul. That you had no money to your name, no friends or family to speak of — that’s a fairly average human thing, too. And that little craving you have, that quiet urge to dig your teeth into any passing stranger’s throat? It's completely, entirely mundane.

It’s manageable. You’re managing.

Or you were, until someone — someone who's decidedly notas good at this human thing as you are — begins leaving a trail of dead bodies at your doorstep, and a trio of god-like siblings take a seat at your bar.

MAGNI THORSON .

No doubt the mightiest of his siblings, the eldest child of Thor is exactly the sort of person you would expect him to be: a giant (half-giant, in fact) asshole with a smoulder and a knife-sharp jawline to match. He’ll match your every word with a cocky grin and a joke that’s nowhere near as funny as he thinks, and he’ll look every inch the prince that he is all the while.

(Well, the prince that he was. Just don’t let him hear you say that.)

MODI THORSON .

For the supposed embodiment of his father’s wrath, the God of Thunder’s second son is surprisingly…not that. He’s no picnic, mind you — he’s broody, he’s secretive, and he's fucking intense, but that hardly equates to fury incarnate. You’re sure there’s something hiding under that moody surface; whether or not you want to uncover it is a different story entirely.

(Looks like even gods aren’t immune to middle-child syndrome. Who knew?)

THRÚD THORSDÓTTIR .

Valkyrie, seidhr,paragon of strength — with all of her mother’s best traits (and a few of her father’s worst), is it any wonder that Thor’s youngest child was also his favourite? Smarter than her half-brothers and more likeable by a longshot, you might find yourself forgetting how easily the fortune-telling goddess could break you in two. You might, but she’ll be happy to remind you if you do.

(Maybe a little too happy, in fact.)

KATLA B̶͍̏L̸̝͑O̵̟͠M̴̳̓Q̴̯̔V̵̺͆I̷̗͛S̵̠͒T̸̬̒ .

A fellow nomad and your coworker at Black Thunder, the first friend you made in Akureyri has remained your closest. Mischevious, magnetic, and often up to no small amount of trouble, there are times when you think you might know Katla better than you know yourself. You even know about her…well, you know that she…sorry, what were you talking about again?

(It's just that it’s nice, being close to someone who’s so very human.)

THE MARE .

There’s a voice in your head and a shadow in your dreams, and they’re telling you to run. You probably shouldn’t trust them.

(…Right?)

Customize your monster character. New life, new you! Choose your gender identity, change your name, cut your hair, and remember: if you’re starting to grow tired of running from your past, try on a new outfit and start running faster.

Play as one of three runway creatures from Norse mythology — a cunning keeper of the forest, a charming warden of the lake, or a formidable guardian of the mountains. Each has its quirks (would you prefer a hollowed-out tree for a back, or webbed fingers and forearms covered in scales?), but they all have two key things in common: they’ll killto protect their homes, and you’redefinitely not one of them.

Choose your own fate, out of the countless that are presented to you. Had oatmeal instead of skyr with your breakfast this morning? You might have just brought about Ragnarök 2.0. Nice one, asshole.

Multiple romance options, with each available to pursue regardless of your gender or background. Ever wanted to kiss a god under a starry sky? Now's your chance! Or maybe you’re through with immortal beings and desperate to ask the pretty server on a date? Go for it! She’s definitelya human too. Totally. You’d be able to tell if she wasn’t. Wouldn’t you?

Save the world — or don’t.It's your choice, and isn't that what true freedom is all about?

Folksaga is inspired by The Edda, Norse mythology, andTwin Peaks, with a bit of tweaking to the myths as needed for the sake of plot. MC backgrounds have been adjusted to fit for all players regardless of gender identity, and creative liberty has been taken with some smaller points for a smoother storytelling experience. All changes will be explained in an FAQ post (too be added in the links below ASAP!)

AS OF AUGUST 21 UPDATE: The current demo consists of the prologue (introductory lore + character creation), + chapter 1, about 70k words total.

I expect it to be somewhere in the range of 600,000 to 700,000 words, but this is subject to change (and likely will due to my propensity for rambling text. oops.).

I’ve written  short and long-form original fiction as well as a lot of fanfic (say hello @ pentaghastly on AO3, and @kendallroynsfw on tumblr!), but this is my first IF! Bugs and coding issues may appear in the demo; please let me know if any issues arise during your playthroughs.

Folksaga is a work in progress. I would love constructive feedback when the demo is posted, as well as any bugs or grammar issues to be brought to my attention if I've missed them :) I would also love patience, because I'm a full time health care worker who gets sleepy lots xoxo

A Swedish farmer named Sven Andersson was executed in 1691 for having intercourse with a mountain nymph, or bergsrå. I will neither confirm or deny if his Wikipedia article was the inspiration for this IF, except I will confirm it and it definitely was.

MC ORIGINS | RO INTROS | DEMO!!!!! | COG FORUMS | PATREON

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 8)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (7) | Next (9)

Word Count: 2.3k

Content Warning: Threats of vore (no actual vore)

------ Chapter 8: Stowaway ------

While Leon, Martin, and Chester received the tribute, Joey wandered off to be alone with some privacy, or at least as alone as he could be when his tall figure was visible for miles. He went back to the more rural section of the human territory near the forest and rested his backside in a fallow dirt field, where he wouldn’t destroy any crops or livestock. He relaxed his elbows on his knees and his chin on his forearms and stared off into the distance with glazed eyes. 

He tried to follow the advice of his mentor, whom he respected as a wiser man, but he was struggling. He didn’t want to cause any harm to the tiny folk. He hated to be here as an oppressor. He liked the little people, and he wanted them to like him too, but he knew that could never happen if they only saw him as a tool of the king to enact his barbaric will. The fact that he was lumped in with monsters like Chester who delighted in devouring people disgusted him. He wanted to hide away in shame at the mere thought. 

He held still, enjoying the warm kiss of the sun and the cool breeze on his back. A few sparrows flew by and perched on his knuckle, not recognizing him as a living creature with his immense size. He watched the microscopic specks of fluffy feathers dance over his hand, chirping and fluttering before they soared away. He sighed. The sights were novel and lovely, but he felt very out of place. 

His back started to ache, so he laid down, carefully unfolding his legs so he wouldn’t collapse any trees, and stared up at the clouds with his hands clasped over his torso. He was tired, since his troubled thoughts had caused him to lose sleep as of late, so he began to drift off. The sound of small voices near his shoulder brought him back to consciousness. He could hear two children, a boy and girl, chattering to each other excitedly. He was tempted to shift his head to look at them, but he didn’t want to scare them, so he stayed motionless, waiting to see what they would do. 

He felt a tickle on his arm as little hands gripped his sleeve and began to climb up his body. He was heartened to discover they weren’t frightened of him, but he remained still. He made an effort to keep his breathing slow and steady as the small beings explored the vast landscape of his mighty chest. Nevertheless, his heart still beat faster than he intended. One of the children tripped, falling on his sternum, her weight less than that of a baby mouse. She climbed back to her feet with a giggle, jumping on the plush surface with joy. Joey failed to repress a mirthful smile. 

The little boy was just as rambunctious, and started to climb up Joey’s neck and chin, pinching his pliant skin in his hands. Joey tried not to swallow or cough, even when the boy stepped directly on his Adam’s apple. The human child successfully scaled his chin and started to tour his face. He was smart enough to avoid Joey’s mouth, but he tripped while hiking over his cheekbone and landed on the lens of his glasses. The boy stiffened as he found himself staring at a huge, inquisitive, chocolate brown eye. Joey blinked and the boy flinched. 

“The giant’s awake!” he yelped, leaping back instinctively with alarm. His feet couldn’t find purchase on the curved, squishy surface of Joey’s cheek, and he toppled off the side of the giant face. Joey reacted quickly, his arms rocketing up to catch the boy. The little girl, still on his chest, gasped as the huge pillars of flesh soared over her head and the muscles flexed underneath her. 

Joey cradled the boy in his hands, relieved he caught him in time. “Are you alright, little one?” he asked, keeping his voice soft. He had never seen a human child up close before, and he marveled at how small he was, even when compared with adult humans. The kid was half the length of his finger, if that. The boy twisted around in his hands, staring in wonder at the enormous fingers towering over his head and the soft cushions of skin beneath him. 

“You helped me,” he uttered in disbelief.  

“Of course,” Joey replied, smiled gently. From the giant’s chest, the young girl screeched an incoherent vocalization and started to cry. 

“Oh, you should probably comfort your friend,” he remarked. He lowered his hand to his chest, so the boy could rejoin the girl.  

“Don’t worry, sis, I’m okay,” the boy chirped happily. Joey expected him to dismount to his chest, but instead the boy waved his arms for his sister to join him. “Come here!” She stared at her brother with wide, watery eyes, still sniffling. “Don’t be scared! He’s a gentle giant, see?” He patted Joey’s palm with his own. 

The girl seemed uncertain, but she trusted her brother. She looked up at Joey’s face, mostly his chin from the extreme angle, and cautiously climbed up into his gargantuan hand. Joey sat up to get more comfortable, moving slowly so as not to frighten the small children. He cupped his hands together and admired the tiny creatures ensconced in his palms. They were adorable. They stared up at him, transfixed by his unfathomable immensity. 

“Hi there. I’m Joey,” the giant introduced himself, with a friendly smile.  

Before the children could answer, a feminine voice screamed from far below. Joey looked down to see a woman flitting about in a panic next to his leg. “Unhand them, you foul beast!” she shrieked. She grabbed a stick and whacked Joey in the thigh with desperation. When he didn’t react, she resorted to jabbing him with it instead. “Don’t you dare harm my precious children!” 

“I had no such intentions, ma'am,” Joey assured her. He placed his hands palm-up on the ground, allowing the children to go back to their mother. She dropped the branch, clambered up his fingers, grabbed her kids in her arms, and ran, not looking back in her haste. Joey watched her go sadly. He supposed he could understand her reaction, for she didn’t know he was a gentle giant. Even so, it made him melancholic to be treated like some savage man-eating monster that would hurt defenseless children. He sighed and stretched his arms, then polished the mini handprints off his glasses with his tunic. 

In the meantime, Leon, Martin, and Chester finished collecting the tribute and were heading back. Chester was marvelously satisfied, despite the ache in his throat from being strangled. He kept licking his lips and sighing with pleasure, his mind off in dreamland as he fantasized about swallowing humans whole. He wanted that last human, Jackie, inside his belly more than anything. Leon held the cage defensively out of his range, so he wouldn’t drool all over it.  

Leon morosely withdrew into himself, seeking to block out his surroundings, and by extension his complicity in the whole affair. He couldn’t bear to look at the people in the cage between his hands, or at the humans giving him horrified stares at his feet, but he couldn’t avoid meeting their gazes either as he watched his step through the tiny streets. He didn’t want to cause more damage than he already had. 

Martin was flustered. He kept sneaking glances down at the cage, at the little blonde lady who was likewise enamored with him. He wanted to talk to her and ask her name, but he couldn’t possibly do anything of the sort considering the awful circumstances. He warned himself not to get attached. He knew what abysmal abuses she would be forced to endure, and his heart couldn’t bear it. He always tried to distance himself from the humans, so he wouldn’t be sensitive to their pain, but he felt personally responsible for this particular woman. He tried to convince himself that her fate was out of his hands as his heart settled into his entrails with guilt and despair. 

While the giants were preoccupied with their respective thoughts, none of them noticed a tiny man hiding in the streets, peering out from behind a building. Cesar was still insulted and dejected over being refused. He had more right to go than that other pitiful excuse of a man who didn’t even want the exalted privilege of meeting the giantess princess. As a huge shoe stomped next to him, he leapt into action. He raced forward, and with a mighty jump and a swing of his arms, snagged onto the giant’s boot. He clambered up the side and concealed himself under the cuff of the trousers. 

Leon didn’t notice the inconsequential weight of his new human passenger as he walked. Cesar’s heart pounded and his stomach heaved with the long, rapid strides of the giant. The speed and power were dizzying, and he struggled to hold on until he could properly situate himself on the top edge of the boot. Once he was secure, he was able to catch his breath, even as nausea rose in his throat. He forced it down and clung on for dear life.  

Martin, Leon, and Chester didn’t have too much trouble finding Joey in the rural countryside, considering he dwarfed every landmark even while sitting. Joey was already despondent from being a source of terror for the human mother he encountered, but his mood soured further when he saw the cage in Leon’s hands full of humans. He wordlessly got to his feet, dusted off his clothes, and followed the others. He avoided looking at the people inside the cage. He failed to notice Eren, the tiny archer that shot his leg with arrows, but she recognized him. She gritted her teeth, feeling a burst of consternation despite her vindictive spirit. She feared that the giant might retaliate when he saw her. She felt vulnerable, stripped of her poisons and weapons. It was a major setback, but she hoped to still find a way to assassinate the giant king. She was determined. 

Martin, to distract himself from Candy, attempted to make conversation with Joey. However, Joey was in no mood to talk, and limited himself to muttering short responses and shrugging his shoulders. Leon didn’t want to engage in idle chatter either. Martin looked around, observing that Chester had wandered off. 

“Where’s Chester?” he vocalized. The trio stopped, swiveling their heads. 

“Over there,” Leon pointed out. Chester was crouched over a tiny farmhouse, in a field of beans he’d trampled without a second thought. He’d poked his fingers through the front entrance of the house, punching through the door as he teased the little family inside. His eyes lit up with glee as his hand closed around a squirming prize. He tried to pull out, but his enclosed fist was too large to fit through the doorframe. He adjusted his prey so that she was pinched between two fingers and wrenched her from her home. 

A shrill cry pierced the air as he dangled her high in the sky, slopping his tongue avariciously over his lips and teeth. “Oh, boy!” he exclaimed, sending a shudder through the small lady. He sniffed the air and grinned, his pearly teeth gleaming with saliva. “You smell delicious!” His belly clamored for food with an insistent gurgle. 

“D-d-don’t eat me!” the woman stammered. She was shaking like a leaf in a storm. She tried to say more, to beg for her life, but she tripped over her tongue with a stuttering whine instead.  

Joey rushed over as quickly as he could without destroying the land underfoot. “Chester!” he yelled. “Put her down!” 

Chester glanced over at him. No malice was in his eyes, just an irrepressible hunger. “Why? She’s just a little thing. Nobody will miss her.” 

“No, please, I have a family… I have children…” the woman whimpered, tearing up as she looked at her house far below.  

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take care of them; I’ll gobble them up too,” Chester proclaimed, as if this statement was somehow supposed to reassure her. His words had the opposite effect, though, as she thrashed in his hand with renewed vigor. 

“No!” she cried. Chester ignored her, lowering her down into his gaping mouth, tongue extended. Joey reacted with lightning speed, hooking Chester’s arm and prying his hand back from his mouth. 

“Not on my watch,” he growled. With skillful precision, he drew a dagger from his belt and pressed the blade firmly against Chester’s neck. 

“Joey, there’s no need for that,” Chester said, uncertainty in his gaze as he locked eyes with the other giant. Even so, he didn’t release the human from his grasp. Despite Joey’s ferocious intensity, he didn’t believe that the squire would really slit his throat, especially over what he considered a trivial matter. 

“Gentleman, stand down!” Sir Maneater shouted. “Joey, put that blade away! We can’t shed blood here!” Joey wavered, unsure how to proceed, before begrudgingly lowering his weapon in acquiescence to his mentor. He knew the noble knight was on his side. 

“Chester, you know the humans are the property of the king,” Leon warned. “If you eat one, I’ll have to report it to King Richard. He won’t be pleased.” Chester sighed and pouted, gazing at the human with longing before setting her back down. She sprinted into the nearest structure, the house, to hide, even with the knowledge that it wouldn’t protect her. Joey sheathed his blade. 

“Sorry,” Chester apologized sheepishly. “I’m just so hungry, and they smell so good, and I only ever get to taste them. I rarely get to eat them, except for when the king wants to dispose of his leftovers.” He sighed, as if this struggle was some great burden. “I’ll control myself better.” 

Joey was fuming, opening and closing his fists. “How can you say things like that with such callous nonchalance? They’re people, for crying out loud!” 

Chester stared at him blankly. “I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders, unconvinced. “Anyways, let’s move along.” 

Chapter 9

[golvio]

Something I’ve noticed about the Great Fairy Fountains in BotW is that, although they look like standard flower bulbs when dormant, when they activate and open after Link donates enough money, they look like rafflesia flowers. Rafflesia flowers have no leaves or roots because they evolved to be parasitic, attaching themselves to a specific species of vine called the Tetrastigma that grows along the rainforest floor and siphoning water and nutrients from its host plant.

Now, there doesn’t seem to be any such vine in the temperate forest where Cotera’s rafflesia grows, but the base of the flower is covered with giant fungi, which suggests her flower gets its water and nutrients from the same symbiotic mycelium network that supports the nearby trees. The fungi near the fountain seems especially active and potent—not only are its fruiting bodies huge, the surrounding plantlife its roots are attached to seems unusually healthy and vigorous. There are even several rare species of plants growing in the area, including the Hearty Radish, Endura Carrots, and even the incredibly picky and sensitive Silent Princess, which was notorious among pre-Calamity gardeners and conservationists for being unable to survive outside of very specific natural conditions.

But what’s really curious to me is how Cotera and her sisters seem to also require a symbiotic relationship with regular mortal people to survive. They’re different from the animals that frequent their fountains in that, in addition to physical sustenance from water and root sugars, they also require some sort of magical/spiritual energy from visitors to stay healthy and happy.

I keep thinking of Skyward Sword’s yin/yang imagery with the dual forces of Malice and Gratitude in the materials you can collect to upgrade your stuff. Gratitude, like Malice, is a spiritual energy that’s released by living beings when they experience a sufficiently powerful emotion. The emotions associated with Malice appear to be negative, while the emotions that form Gratitude energy are positive. Both energies can “crystallize” into solid forms that can be handled, transported, and used in rites. Both have transformative and vitality-increasing properties for creatures aligned with their specific energy wavelengths, and can be poisonous to creatures not aligned to them, like how Malice is poisonous to the non-monster peoples of Hyrule while giving beneficial properties to monsters, boosting their physical strength, extending their vitality, even resurrecting them so long as they have physical remains to animate.

There have also been certain notable cases where certain beings were able to shift their energy alignments when exposed to enough pf the opposite energy. For example, gathering a high enough concentration of Gratitude Crystals was enough to transform Batreaux the demon into a human. Meanwhile, Rhoam mentioned that Ganon was formerly a human man who “became Malice.” I imagine the nature of his transformation and the reason why he was exposed to enough ambient Malice to become an entity that was composed of and could consciously control it will be expanded upon in TotK when it comes out.

But, anyways, Cotera and her sisters. It seems like her dependence upon travelers and their donations reveals a very interesting thing about “minor deities” and other beings of similar power who deliberately cultivate symbiotic relationships with humans through worship. The way she gathers Gratitude energy is initially through a symbolic donation of something of value to humans, in this case, money. The energy given by this donation is enough to revitalize her from her hibernation, and she continues gathering Gratitude by using her restored powers to improve the armor Link carries.

Basically, before travelers stopped coming to visit the fountains after the Calamity wiped out huge chunks of the population and made travel difficult, there was some kind of economy happening where the Great Fairies exchanged favors for the Gratitude mortal travelers released upon receiving those favors. Without that Gratitude energy, the fairies can at least physically survive, but are forced into a state of hibernation until a mortal radiating the positive emotional energy they crave draws near.

It reminds me a lot of the relationships between regular humans and kami in various depictions of Shintoism, where humans need the favor of the gods to survive, but the gods also require attention and energy in the form of prayer and symbolic exchanges of money used for the upkeep of their shrine. A lot of local folk religious practices in various parts of China involve a similar relationship, although in some cases the exchange of money/gifts is even more symbolic, with joss paper versions of “real” goods being burned in offering.

It makes me curious about what’s going on between the Yiga Clan and Ganondorf. The Yiga certainly seem to be trying to set up some sort of reciprocal relationship between themselves and Ganon in Age of Calamity, putting Ganon’s inert little robot vessel in a shrine and offering it food. Ganon, likewise, seems drawn to the Yiga because of the Malice they foster within their hearts from their own hatred of the Royal Family and the Hylians for their rejection and exile after lifetimes of devoted service. Harbinger Ganon depends on Malice in his environment for energy, violently wrenching out life energy touched by Malice from monster and human alike in order to restore himself as quickly as possible after each defeat.

However, if Ganondorf himself is freed and the urgency of his appetite is tamed by treating his obvious starvation…would it be possible for him to develop into a Malice-aligned version of the symbiotic relationship between beings like Cotera and her visitors? One where favors are exchanged for the voluntary, gradual release of the hatred and anger burdening his worshippers’ hearts, as opposed to him violently cracking their souls open and instantly slurping up the hate-filled juices inside, draining them of their life force and killing them in the process?

[angelamajiki]

PAIRINGS: Father! Yandere! Enji Todoroki x Daughter! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, soulmate AU, fluff, slight angst, nsfw, kissing, praise kink, virginity kink, size kink, bathroom sex

A BNHarem Collab!

AN: my longest piece to date! the prompt this month was sex work, so i decided to stretch the prompt and do sexual slavery. wanted to go for a softer version of daddy endeavor, so please enjoy <3

5.2k words

The mark on his wrist was one that was shared with yours. Enji had given up on finding his soulmate, deciding that his career and legacy were far more important than some silly marking on another’s body. Love was something he thought he could go without. But when he saw your bright eyes gaze up at him, your chubby hand wrapped around his index finger, his heart had fallen hard—such a sweet, gentle thing. No traces of fear, of disdain, of disgust for him as a human being. Just pure curiosity and unconditional love. His heart leaped for his little girl.

Enji was determined, then and there, that he would never fail you, not like he forgot the others.

Oh, what plans he had for you, his precious princess. He couldn’t wait to spoil you, to marry you and start a new family once you were old enough. Rei realized this as well. Her youngest daughter, her last hope at salvaging her broken family, was to be had by her husband. The thought frightened her, especially after seeing the adoring look in her husband's eyes when she saw him cradle you for the first time. It was so unlike the stoic nature he held for the other children when they were born, only caring to see that they were healthy before leaving off back to his agency, never giving them more than a fleeting touch. It was nothing like when he held you, snarling at any nurse who dared to take his soulmate from the grips of his arms.

Something that had Enji’s conviction more so than his career was something to be feared. Your mother swore to herself that she would not let her husband ruin you.

Once he fell asleep with you tucked in the crook of his arm, a social worker came and collected you to be sent to a foster home and be set up for adoption. It was better than falling into the hands of the monster of a husband.

After the death of Touya, the pair decided to have one more child in hopes of fixing their broken family, but Rei now knew it was for naught. Nothing could save them know, especially now that Enji had nearly burned the building down when he discovered that his little girl was gone, just hours after he had finally found you.

Rei alerted the commission as well for your protection, that utter bitch of a woman. They very well couldn't have the number two hero caught in an incestuous bond with his daughter, now could they. All information of your whereabouts was hidden from him, blacklisting him from working with any foster children, lest he loses his hero license. Enji may have lost you for the time being, but his patience grew as he did. They couldn't keep him from you forever. You'd be reunited one day; he knows it.

The first time he saw you again was when you were fifteen. It was your birthday and the day he had become the number one hero officially, plenty of reason to celebrate. Usually, he would have taken the time to sit near the rose bush he planted in your honor in his courtyard on your birthday, renewing his vows to find and love you to the best of his ability. Enji took great pride in keeping your memory alive with the bush for his beautiful little rose gone too soon from his grasp. But there you were, mere meters from him.

The foster home you stayed at took you out for dinner when he was meeting with Hawks after the billboard awards. Your eyes were unmistakable, a perfect cerulean just like his own. He was so close, yet so far. My, how you had grown since he saw you. Unlike him, you bore your mark proudly on your wrist, not ashamed to admit to the world who your soulmate was. Not like you actually knew who it was anyway.

Enji was prepared to leave Hawks at the table; a new flame lit under his ass, one far more exhilarating than the thought of being the number one hero. He was up and on his way to speak to you before Nomu attacked him. Damn villains, they'd pay for separating the two of you once again. But his conviction only grew stronger. It wasn’t hard to find you after that; he knew what city you were living in. Instincts lashed out at him, demanding that he go sweep you up and hide you away. No, no. That would make you frightened; he can't have that. He’ll watch from the sidelines, waiting until you were of age to make a move. He was curious to see just how life as a foster child was treating you.

Growing up in the foster system had been a nightmare from hell for you. A cursed child is what they saw you as when your skin sprouted flames every time it was touched by the human hand, burning everything and everyone who came in contact with it. From the moment your quirk manifested, you were an outcast, an untouchable, unlovable freak. Someone destined never to feel the touch of their new parents, their lover, their soulmate.

It wasn't long before you realized that you would remain in the foster system until you aged out. Who would adopt a child they couldn't hug when they cried, hold their hand when they crossed the street, snuggle up to when it was chilly outside? Any potential parent was taken aback by your quirk once you reached for the warm touch of mommy and daddy, only to singe their hand or burn a hole in their shirt.

You learned quickly that your touch was something to be feared, that you were something to be feared. You supposed that’s why you looked up to him so much. So much so that you thought about him late at night when the loneliness seemed to drown you in the sea of your insecurities.

Endeavor was the only one who could understand you, understand your quirk. If only your soulmate mark could match him, maybe you feel the warmth of another human being without hurting or mauling them with your power. Abrasive he may be with the media, but there something about him that was so comforting and endearing to you. In your eyes, he was simply misunderstood, a gentle giant amongst the mass personalities of the other pro heroes.

Watching his interviews brought you comfort when you were lonely, his merchandise made you swell with pride and confidence, and his posters on the wall reminded you that you were never alone. It was a silly crush, but it made you feel better about your miserable life.

You even got to see him on your birthday! Well, not exactly. You happened to be in the same restaurant when your foster parents took you out for your birthday. It was apparent that they just felt bad for you, having looked after you for 15 years only to still have custody of your sorry ass. You were almost certain that they were going to kick you to the curb the morning of your 18th birthday.

Too bad they never had the chance. That fate would have been much kinder than the reality you faced now.

Once the Paranormal Liberation Front had effectively ripped society up by the roots and let the tree of life rot for the world to see, your foster parents packed their shit and left the country while you were at school. You’d been alone in the world ever since and were snatched off the streets, ready to be sold into slavery by the villains of the world. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being bought like a bitch from the auction floor.

Enji, on the other hand, was more than eager to do just that. After his public smear campaign by his allegedly dead son, he was dead to the world, finally abandoning his family for good in hopes of finding his beloved daughter. His life was dedicated to searching for you, having managed to track you down through his vigilante work. He likes to lie to himself and say that he’s continuing to fight for the greater good, but Enji does it just to have the chance to see your sweet face again. There wasn’t much to go off of, but he’d rather see his fiery end than to give up. That's how he found you at the auction.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Another auction night was approaching, which meant another night of humiliation and being displayed like a slab of meat for a crowd of degenerate wolves. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being sold; no one wants a fucktoy they can’t touch. It reduced you to physical labor for your captors, but you were better fed because of it. That didn’t mean they still didn’t try to sell you.

After being stripped down into nothing but a collar, leash, and a muzzle, you were brought to the stage and shoved in front of the ravenous, roaring crowd. You could feel their stares seep into your bones, the grime from the floor on your bare feet only adding to the overwhelming sensation of disgust you couldn’t even begin to describe.

The crowd’s excitement was raucous, jeers and shouts echoing off the halls of the underground auditorium. Masks covered their faces for the sake of privacy lest a vigilante break-in and hunt them all down. Even in the lawlessness of the world, heroes were still crawling everywhere to trail after even the slightest scent of villainy. Doesn't mean they’ll win, but hey, the death of a hero is just the same as the auction was to them.

“Up next, a darling girl with a fiery quirk!”

That was your cue. A handler had a fierce grip on your leash, giving it a few tugs for good measure as the crowd laughed at your stumbling. The auctioneer began to list your qualities and physical attributes, including your quirk.

“And she’s a virgin!”

Added for good measure, the crowd fell silent after listening to the abilities of your quirk. You couldn't hate it anymore; it's what was keeping you from being someone’s onahole until the day you kicked the bucket.

“Can I get $10,000?”

Ah the starting bid. The silence was relieving. Just a few more moments and you'd be off that damn stage.

“No? Going once, going twice, going-”

“One million.”

A booming voice came from the back row, the depths of the shadows to further hide the masked man who just bought your life. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Outstanding! One million dollars for the young lady!”

“Going once.”

It couldn't be.

“Going twice.”

This can't be happening.

“Sold for one million!”

No!

You were supposed to be unwanted, just like you have been your entire life! Yet some mysteriously familiar man outbid the entire auction for little ol’ you.

“Off the stage, bitch.”

The handler snarled, yanking you off the stage and causing you the fall and bruise yourself in the process.

“Watch it!” He spat, picking you up by the roots of your hair. “The merchandise needs to be handled carefully before reaching the customer. Let's hope he doesn't mind some bumps and bruises. For your sake.”

“That won't be necessary; I'll be taking her as is. Immediately, if you will.”

The mysterious man stood had already made his way backstage and behind you, standing formidably over your stark form. Your hair was released, dropping you back to the floor.

“Excellent, sir! I’m more than happy to get this welp off my hands.”

A brief exchange was made while you recovered on the floor, shaking in fear as the situation weighed heavily on your already broken self. The handler took the money and returned to the back room, leaving the two of you alone together.

The stranger crouched down to you and extended a hand to brush the stray hair out of your face, touch remaining tender and gentle when you flinched harshly.

“My poor girl, what has the world done to you?”

His coat enveloped your body as he scooped you up in his arms. The scent of him comforted you more than you would have liked to admit. Teakwood and coffee grounds filled your senses as he held you flush against his chest, leaving the auction house with a renewed sense of vigor.

You were placed in the backseat of a car before he dressed you in simple pajamas.

“Rest. You deserve it.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

At some point in the car ride, you let yourself fall asleep only to wake up in a cozy king-size bed wrapped up in a soft blanket next to a warm fireplace. The false sense of comfort lulled you for a few moments before your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The anxiety you'd had known your whole life had finally kicked back into gear, forcing you out of bed and into the rest of the house.

It was daybreak, the sunlight slowly trickling in through heavily curtained windows as you walked through the halls and into the kitchen. The man was standing over the stove, sans mask, dressed in a wife-beater and his pajama bottoms. It couldn't be-

“Come in; breakfast will be on the table in a moment.”

Now you were certain.

“Who are you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you buy me at the auction?”

A deep, rumbling chuckle flowed from the man.

“I think you know the answer to that, little one.”

His focus was retained on the meal in front of him. “I’ll explain myself over breakfast. Now sit.”

You couldn't help but feel compelled to obey him. While sitting, you took the time to honestly look him over for the first time in your life. Never did you think you would be so close to your childhood crush in such a domestic setting.

He had noticeably greyed but still possessed a majority of his red hair. Muscles were still taught and budging, but he had grown a little bit of a belly. Endeavor was as handsome as ever, aged like a fine wine that you couldn't wait to sip on.

The food was placed in front of you as he took the test next to you.

“Eat and have some water. Then we’ll talk.”

Once again, you obeyed him without question and refrained from eating like a rabid animal. It wasn't even a question, so much so that it is evident that you hadn't had a decent meal in a long time. You were still muscular from the labor you did for your handlers, though.

And Enji liked that about you. How resilient you were, he loved that you inherited his strength but still possessed Rei’s gentle nature. Not that he wanted to credit that woman for anything, but he couldn't deny the obvious. You were his strong, beautiful little girl who had to endure so much because his bitch of a wife decided to separate you from him.

But he was here now, ready to give all his love and protection to his only love. It took everything in his power not to swoop you up from your seat and hold you in his arms until his last breath.

Enji watched you eat, pride swelling in his chest at the thought that you liked his cooking. He couldn't help but wonder what your favorite meals were as well. There's certainly all the time in the world to get to know his little girl now that he had you. And he was never going to let you go.

Your breakfast was devoured quickly, both out of desperation for a real meal and answers to your questions.

“Why did you buy me from the auction?”

It was a complicated question, but you wanted a simple answer.

“I’m your soulmate.” His wrist was on display as he reached across the table to hold your hand.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Your one, shining hope was meant to yours and he wanted to be yours. You didn't even question how he knew at all.

His touch was warm and slightly rough, but it was welcome all the same. Even though your skin was lit aflame at his flesh against your, he paid it no mind. He was built to take your quirk, to take you.

“Endeavor…”

“Please, call me Enji.” His thumb rubbed over the palm of your hand. “I’m sure you feel better after having something to eat.”

“Why don't you go take a bath? It’ll help you relax, I can take care of your dishes.”

It was strange how insistent he was on taking care of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy the attention. He seemed to care for you in a way that went beyond caring for a partner, or in your case, a soulmate. But who were you to judge? It wasn't like you had a lot of experiences to use as a comparison.

Making your way back to the bedroom, you took the time to study the house you were in. A traditional, well-kept home, it practically looked like it was untouched. And maybe it was; buildings and homes fully intact were hard to come by these days, let alone ones that were clean and warm.

Enji seemed to lull you into an instinctual sense of safety, even though he bought you out of slavery. Just because he was your soulmate didn't mean that he had good intentions for you, but somehow, his presence alone filled a void in your heart that you had forgotten was even there.

Once you made it to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, you drew yourself a bath just like Enji had instructed you to do. It wasn't the wisest decision to let your guard down like this, but the man already had plenty of opportunities to fuck you up by this point.

The water was warm and inviting when you sank yourself into it; you couldn't remember the last time you had warm water to clean yourself with. It made you feel light and hazy, slipping into a headspace you had long forgotten—a place of safety and comfort.

Three raps on the door pulled you from your haze as Enji entered the bathroom with fresh towels. Despite the fact that he had already seen you naked, the intimacy of the situation only left you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Let me help you.”

He kneeled next to you outside of the tub and pulled a lavender chamomile shampoo from the tub’s shelf. There was room to protest, but you couldn't find yourself willing to do so.

Water was poured over your head before he started a lather in your hair, gently scrubbing your scalp for a while. Even this simple touch made you shudder, it was a long time since you last felt the warmth of someone’s touch. And everything about this man was warm, for you at least. His words, his touch, his heart.

Conditioner was added to your hair as well before he moved onto washing your body. The scrub was gentle across your skin, his hand following after it to help keep the suds from rising too much. Strong hands massaged your back and your neck, both of which needed the much-deserved relief.

“So tense.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

There was a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as he massaged out all the knots and kinks that had built up over the years with your handlers. His touch should have made you flinch but you found yourself pressing into it. A small moan escaped your lips as he worked through a particularly tender spot on your neck.

“Are you enjoying this?”

His lips ghosted your ear as warm breath tickled your cheek and neck.

Your face flushed with a fiery warmth from a combination of the steam, your embarrassment, and the man whispering sweet nothings in your ear as his hands worked at your tired skin.

“Let me help you relax, sweet thing.”

Enji picked you up momentarily to slot himself behind you in the tub. Placed on his lap, you gasped when you could feel his erection hard against your back. Fear started to trickle into your veins as you squirmed slightly, attempting to get out of his grasp.

“Shhh, it's alright, you're okay.” His hand made its way to your throat and rested there gently, stroking over your artery with his thumb. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. Let me show you how much I've missed you.”

His touch made you feel alive, feel wanted for the first time in your life. You couldn't help but whine when his other hand made its way down your body, gently groping your breast as his lips were pressed to your ear.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”

His fingers toyed with your nipples, obviously skilled.

“Do you trust me to make the sweetest love to you?”

Another whine caught in your throat as his hand went further, cupping your sex in his much larger hand. He kneaded gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple when you writhed in his grip.

“Please! Enji-”

Shushing you gently, Enji’s thumb made its way to your clit to stroke in small circles.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

You were used to touching yourself, but oh God it never felt like this.

“Good!” You managed to choke out in a wanton moan. “So good! Enji, please, I need-”

A warm pair of lips sealed over yours, silencing you once again. Enji knew how wrong this was, to take advantage of you like this without revealing the truth. But he wanted at least to just once to have you in his arms willingly and eagerly. He wanted to kiss you breathless, listen to your cries and feel your nails dig into his skin as he gave you all of himself without a fight from you. He can worry about revealing himself to you later.

The rough pads of his large fingers started to apply pressure to your clit as his middle finger slipped into your tight hole under the water.

“Don't worry, little one. I'll give you what you need.”

Soft kisses were trailed along your cheek and hand that was on his that was still holding your throat tenderly. Finger pumping in and out of you, Enji whispered sweet praises to you as he felt your hole clench around him.

“Doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

Your breathy moans and whines only served to harden his cock. He felt like a teenager all over again, closing to cumming just from the sound of your voice.

Another finger slipped into your tight core, careful not to overwhelm you too fast. It was obvious you'd hadn't been touched before, not even by yourself. You felt full but greedy for more of his touch.

“Deeper, Enji! Please, can you?”

You were babbling at this point, writhing in his lap as he fingered you nice and slow with thick digits. Enji hummed as he pressed further into, curling his fingers into your G-spot.

Your cry was loud as he began to abuse your most sensitive spot, fully squirming in his arms as tears of pleasure breached your eyes. The sensation was too overpowering for you, making you thrash and arch in his arms.

“Shh, you're okay, sweetheart. You're okay; I'm right here.”

His fingers continued to stroke in a curled fashion, thumb still circling over your twitching clit. Enji kissed you again, deeper and more fierce as he began to fuck you earnestly with his fingers.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Squealing, you gripped his forearm and cried helplessly into his mouth. The build was slow and intense, allowing your orgasm to wash over you in waves of pleasure rather than a blinding, quick light.

“E-Enji!” You wailed. “Enji!”

You shook in his arms, holding onto the larger man for dear life as you experienced your first orgasm. It seemed like Enji knew your body better than you did.

No words were exchanged between the pair of you, but you could feel the tension of your desired hanging thick in the air. This man was going to take your virginity, here and now.

Enji removed his hand from your throat and between your legs in order to maneuver you to sit facing forward in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?”

His honesty made you flush even more. Biting your lip nervously, you hesitated to answer. Were you ready? It wasn’t like you had much of choice; the man could very well take you by force if he so chose to. But you felt safe in his arms, safe with him.

“Let me help you, my love.”

Warm, large hands gripped your backside as he held you steady above his cock. Your hand reached down to line yourself up with his throbbing sex, lowering yourself down on it slowly.

It burned in the best way, stretching you out fully as you pressed your forehead against his chin.

“Good girl, taking my cock so well, darling.”

A pitiful whine left your throat at the praise, hands gripping the forearms that held you in place.

“Can...Can you hold me?” You whimpered. “Please?”

Enji’s arms enveloped you and pulled you flush against his, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock. Your breath tickled his ears, making him groan lowly once he bottomed out inside of you.

“Such a sweet girl you are, taking all of me on your first try.”

Another whine responded for you as you ground your hips down on his.

“E-Enji.” You whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer. “Enji!”

“Be still, little one.” Hands back on your hips, holding you in place near the tip of his girthy length. “Let me take care of you.”

Hips in place, the man began to thrust up into you slowly, holding you tight as he stood up from the water. You only gripped and nuzzled yourself into him further, letting out sweet whines and whimpers into his ear while he thrust into you.

Your back was placed against the cool tile of the wall when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. Even in this position, he was still at least another head taller than you.

“Look at me when I make love to you.”

Through wet eyelashes, you gazed up at his eyes and let your mouth hang open as he rolled his hips into yours. His eyes shut briefly when he moaned, hissing at the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock so well.

“You were made to take my cock, little one.”

Arms reached up to wrap around his neck as he thrust into you, taking his time to make his strokes slow and deep. His hips were flush against yours when you asked him, “Kiss me, please? I want all of you Enji.”

Your bold proclamation stunned him for a moment before yielding, placing a deep kiss and a hot tongue against your lips.

His thrusts became faster as he kissed you with more passion and vitality. For an old man, he certainly had his stamina up to par. Your fingers thread through his red and grey tresses, tugging him closer to you gently as you moaned shamelessly into his mouth.

The pleasure in your core was more intense, fiercer this time around as his thrusts became hard and fast. The sounds of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiled bathroom walls as the both of you felt your orgasms coming.

“Enji, fuck!” You whined, beginning to squirt on his fast-paced cock. “I-I’m cumming; I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, princess.”

With a choked sob, you creamed yourself all over his cock, which continued to pound into your hole before he groaned your name and came deep inside you.

Nothing but the sounds of the water sloshing and your labored breathing could be heard as you both came down from your highs.

After a moment of rest, Enji pulled out and wrapped you in a towel before laying you gently on the bed. A towel was wrapped around his own waist as he looked at you fondly, brushing stray hairs out of your eye sight as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I must ask, how did you end up at the auction site?”

What a loaded question, but the intimacy you two shared allowed for it.

“I was kidnapped off the streets after my parents abandoned me when the prison break happened.”

He sighed gruffly and took your hand in his.

“What utter fools, tossing aside a beautiful rose such as yourself.”

His thumb traced over your soulmate mark. You still had yet to know how he knew before ever meeting you.

“It's alright; I never considered them my family. I just wish I could have met mine, but at least I met my soulmate.”

A crinkled smile adorned his face.

“You've done more than meet them.”

What could that have meant?

“I’m your father and your soulmate, little one.”

A rock hit the pit of your stomach as you retracted your hand from his.

“That isn't a funny joke, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” His hand was quick to snatch your back. “What could I possibly gain from lying to you?”

“P-Prove it.”

“Our soulmate marks, I saw yours the moment you were born in the Hosu hospital before my wife separated us all those years ago. I can recite your birthday if you'd like me to, for good measure.”

Fuck, he really wasn't lying. A lump formed in your throat as tears sprung in your eyes.

“Why would you do this to me?” You whispered, barely even able to hear yourself.

“Because I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. Ever since I saw you for the first time in the hospital, my entire life has changed because of you. All I ever wanted was you.”

Enji was quick to shush your cries, using his free hand to wipe your tears away.

“Will you forgive me for being selfish?”

The disgust and horror filled everyone of your senses, especially when you came to a realization that he was everything you've ever wanted.

What came out of your mouth next stunned the both of you.

“You can apologize by begging on your knees and cleaning me up with your tongue, Daddy.”

TAGLIST: @tomurasprincess @bonesoftheimpala @sightoru @cxnicalsweetheart

[aki-mochi]

Levi x Titan Shifter!Reader

Warning: contains blood and season 1 spoilers. Word count: 1464

You were walking down the halls of the old Scout’s HQ to deliver papers to Levi of Hanji’s recent titan experiment ideas. Her mind wandered from her days in the 104th cadet corps to how she is now suddenly in the Levi Squad along with Eren due to his titan shifting abilities. She sees how different he’s treated than other people and it worries her to no end. Eren was her best friend, even before he met Mikasa and Armin. She happened to help him fend off the bullies by breaking one of the kid’s nose. Their friendship was an instant click, soon with Armin and Mikasa, though she wishes Mikasa wasn’t so overprotective of Eren and it annoys her to no end. Shaking her head, she looked up and was face to face with Levi’s office door. Reaching a hand up, she knocked her knuckles on the mahogany door then heard a familiar baritone voice from the other side.

“State your name and business.”

“It’s (Y/n), sir. With papers from Hanji on her next titan experiments with Eren.”

“Come in.”

Complying to his orders, she opened the door and made her way inside before shutting it behind her. Her boot clad feet silently clicked along the carpeted flooring towards his desk and stopped when she was in front of it. Levi soon looked up from the document he was writing and placed his feathered quill in its ink bottle then laced his fingers together under his chin.

“Is this all Hanji’s work?”

“No, sir. Some of it are notes that I had written on her experiments progress involving Eren.”

“I see. At least I can read your handwriting instead of Hanji’s horrible chicken scratch. Set them down on the desk. You’re excused.”

With a salute, (Y/n) soon left his office in search of Eren with a massive blush on her cheeks. She was very surprised that she even kept a straight face in front of her superior, especially since she has a crush on him. As she tried to cool down her face, she managed to bump into Eren along with the members of the Levi Squad.

“Hey, (Y/n)! Hanji said she’s done with experiments for the day, you want to hang out?” Eren smiled.

“Sure!”

“Just don’t go too far, you hear, brats? Captain Levi would not be happy if you two wandered off if he needs you for anything.” Oluo said as he clicked his tongue.

“I’m waiting for the day you bite your tongue and bleed out. You’re not the Captain, so stop acting like him.” Petra glared.

The two bickered and argued as Eld and Gunther just sat back and watched in amusement. Eren and (Y/n) took this as a sign that they should walk away and hang out around the old HQ to catch up on old times, unknowingly that a certain raven was watching them.

~time skip~

The Levi squad was zipping through the Forest of Giant Trees as they were trying to find a way out before the Female Titan could catch up and take Eren as its hostage. As they were, a cloaked soldier was zipping among them from a distance before they instantly slashed at Gunther’s nape and nearly severing his head completely off his shoulders. As the rest of the team got their blades ready, the soldier suddenly transformed into the Female Titan.

“(Y/n)! Take Eren and go!” Eld yelled.

“What?! And leave you all to fight her alone?! No way, I’m staying!” Eren exclaimed.

“Don’t you trust us?” Petra frowned.

Eren went silent before (Y/n) spoke up. “Come on, Eren. We gotta trust them. They’re the Levi Squad after all. They can kill this bitch.”

With a sigh, Eren nodded and zipped into another direction with (Y/n) and watched as their team took on the enemy. But within minutes, the monster had killed all three of them in cold blood. Eren’s eyes went wide in agony as he turned around towards her.

“Eren, no!” (Y/n) yelled as she chased after him.

Once he got close enough, Eren bits his hand and transforms into his titan form to get revenge on the bitch that killed his teammates. All (Y/n) could do was watch from a distance while making sure she isn’t in the crossfire of their brawl, inwardly hoping that Levi would soon come and help. As she watched the two titans fight it out, the female suddenly made a specific pose that shocked both her and Eren before she suddenly took off his entire head from his body. Shaking herself out of her stupor, (Y/n) quickly launched her ODM gear and attempted to stop her from taking Eren before her wires were suddenly grabbed and was thrown into a nearby tree.

Her back slammed into the trunk as a sharp stick had impaled through her stomach. (Y/n) coughed up blood as she weakly glanced up to see the Female Titan bite into Eren’s nape and take his body into her mouth.

“No….Eren….” she gagged as tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry…”

With those words, she took her blade and slashed her wrist enough to draw blood, making a flash of lightning come down in her location. The female titan looked in her direction and her regenerated eye widened as a (h/c) haired female titan stood there against the remains of a tree. (Y/n) gave a titan roar, before launching herself at the enemy to take Eren back. The Female Titan stepped back and began to sprint towards the direction of the forest exit with (Y/n) on her ass.

As Levi soon caught up to them both, his tired eyes widened ever so slightly at the (h/c) haired titan giving chase of the monster who killed his team. Once (Y/n) was in reach, she grabbed at the others hair and pulled it hard to make her fall back, ripping some of her scalp off in the process. (Y/n) then grabbed at her jaw and tried to force her mouth open bit by bit. Levi came over and slashed at the titans cheeks to separate her mouth; seeing Eren unconscious and covered in disgusting titan saliva. (Y/n) reached in and grabbed Eren in her hand as Levi went ahead and slashed at her ankles so she wouldn’t give chase before landing on (Y/n)’s shoulder when she got up and started to run off to get away from the Female Titan.

Once they were at the forest entrance, Levi zipped down from her shoulder as she gently placed Eren onto the ground. Stepping back, she let her titan form go limp as it started to evaporate. (Y/n)’s body slowly emerged from its nape as the markings of the titan muscles surrounded her eyes. She felt weak as she shakily stood up but stumbled when she lost her footing. Levi quickly caught her in his arms and placed her onto the ground as he cradled her head in the bend of his arm. When she opened her eyes, she glanced up and saw him then gave a frown.

“I’m sorry, Captain….I didn’t have a choice….” she whispered.

Levi shook his head as he carefully removed his cloak from his shoulders to cover her due to the rip in her shirt from where she got impaled.

“I understand why you did it, but why did you hide this important secret? You could’ve helped us more.”

“Because I saw how bad Eren was being treated…..I was scared that I would be seen as a monster, not only to my friends….but to you as well, sir…..”

“You and Eren are just as much human than everyone else. But know that we will have to talk to Erwin about you.” Levi said sternly.

“I know, sir….” she frowned.

“I will make sure no one lays a finger on you. I’ll protect you from here on out, understand?”

(Y/n) blushed. “Y-Yes sir…”

“Call me Levi.”

“Levi…”

Levi hummed in response before planting a soft kiss on her head as he held her close.  “Rest (Y/n). You need it.”

“Thank you, Levi…” she smiled before resting her head on his shoulder.

Levi reached into his jacket and brought out his signal flare and shot up a purple smoke signal to let other people know of his location so they could come help as the two titan shifters rested. Thinking of how he was going to keep (Y/n) from going into trial and away from the MP’s grabby hands, Levi held her sleeping body closer to his chest protectively. He was definitely going to make her his woman when they got back to HQ.

[whimsywispsblog]

Fault in Our Stars

Warning: PTSD, references to childhood abuse and trauma, sexual trauma and depression.

Inspired by: @vukis2

Lips quivering. Tears trailing. Body shaking from the cold and fear. Eyes widened- alarmed and frightened.

Running into the dark forest was definitely a bad idea. But what was Donna to do other than run? Run for her dear life? Run away somewhere- somewhere away from the lands infested with blood-sucking vampiric creatures that feasted on her family's blood, leaving her the youngest and the damaged for last.

Damaged. Ruined. In every sense. In every way, a woman is not to be ruined.

The hazy light of the gloomy skies shaded by the canopies of the tall and twisted brown trees lit the dark path ahead. Each step was taken carefully as the rustling of the carpet of dried leaves, and twigs below Donna's feet gave a crisp crackle, each sound making the girl turn back while tightly squeezing the arm of her ragged doll, Angie. And the sounds of the high-pitched giggles turned into ear-piercing shrieks. In the dark forests, vile creatures lurk in every corner, staggering and tottering in the shadows hunting their doomed prey. A forest lore, narrated by every village person. Or was it a forewarning left to the villagers by the unfortunate quarries who could never return to see another sunrise?

Most never knew which, but that day, Donna realised that it was the latter.

The dark forests always played with its victims' minds: most never escaped from its evil clutches, and the ones that did, they were driven to insanity by never-ending nightmares of its devilish creatures. There was no escape.

Donna stopped as she heard sudden footsteps approaching. They were fast, very fast.

'Run.' 'Run.' 'Run.' She kept commanding her body, but her legs shook and felt heavy, making the girl fall on her knees. The girl refused to turn back, and she closed her eyes. The wind was strong, pushing her backwards as if tempting her to open her eyes and see what stood behind her.

And then, the sounds of the ravens squawking, but in human tongue filled the languid air of the forests. Their crows were so frightening, so horrifying that they made poor Donna's flesh bleed and cut.

//"She the woman who made the Devil destroy the paradise for a kiss,"//

"I did not fall. I did not fall." The girl repeated the sentence over and over again, clutching Angie close to her breasts. The ravens flew around her, its sharp beaks piercing through her tender skin, its shrill squeaks hurting her sensitive ears, the pitch getting louder and louder until it started ringing in her ears. They started ripping her hair from her scalp and skinning her thighs, relishing in her decaying flesh.

The girl then let out a loud scream.

"HE PUSHED ME!"

//"No one questions the Devil, whore!"//

And with that, it was back to the eerie tranquillity of the forests.

Eyes watching. Ears listening. Tongues wetting. Stomachs growling.

She was tired. Scared. But determined to escape from the forests' demons. But would she?

Donna shook her head sideways, swallowing all her doubts. She was going to escape and start her life anew, somewhere far, far away. In lands where she was not damaged. Not cursed. But welcomed with open hearts and warm smiles. And with that, she pushed herself up, not letting her mind succumb to the dark pits of self-doubt.

The frigid air bit into the girl's tender skin through her ripped clothes and burnt her lungs while numbing her nose. The girl hugged herself, trying to keep the cold away. Lips pale, eyes swollen, hair covered in icicles, and her body covered in dried blood and mud. It seemed like the path went on forever, and the sky-kissing mountains were just an illusion.

The earthy smell after the first rainfall that loomed over the dark lands slowly faded away as a more metallic smell with burnt char took over—burning flesh. Someone or something was close.

Donna chanted words of Orison to her creator- for protection. For courage. For salvation. And if the Gods chose to cut her thread of fate, then so be it. She was ready to welcome the torment of hell that awaited her. Somewhere away from the abhorrent lands that she walked on. Was walking on. Her trembling hands tightly clasped on Angie's neck while her steps became slower and more cautious.

The girl found a rock big enough to hide behind as the smell got stronger and sounds of inhuman growls got louder. She didn't want to see them as she shut her eyes tightly, her prayers chanted at a frantic pace bobbing her head back and forth. Until. A human voice caught her attention- a voice which she regretted listening to.

"Take the fat one. That's all you will get for the night," A bunch of snarls poured out from all directions until the person finally screamed, "SHUT UP! Go find more food somewhere else!"

The sound of soft whimpers made Donna peek from behind the rock. In a wooden cage were 6 small-sized men, looking down at the creatures in fear. They were the dwarfs. On the ground was a giant dwarf that shouted for mercy, as his limbs were torn from all sides and his body ripped with the splatter of blood and his insides. Donna held back her urge to gasp, biting her tongue so hard that she felt the taste of blood in her mouth.

"Oi fish freak!" Donna's attention shifted from the mutilated remnants of the corpse to that of a man, tall and sturdy with messy, greasy grey hair covered by a hat. He wore a long brown coat that swayed with his every movement. He had a gigantic hammer in his hand, one that made the girl tremble in fear. Not only could this man control a horde of dangerous human-eating monsters, but he was also burly, judging by the size of the metallic hammer.

"Hey, moron! Yeah, you! Come here ya quim!" A blob-like grotesque creature stumbled towards the man. It looked so ugly and ghastly that Donna felt the contents of her stomach rise to her throat.

"Fry these midgets and send them to Miranda." The fish-creature bowed its entire body as if nodding to the man. The man with the hammer turned away, facing the rock as a slight smirk appeared on his face, and that scared Donna. Did he see her?

Donna pulled herself behind the rock as she breathed in heavily, hoping that he hadn't seen her. She felt something warm and wet on her shoulder, and she slowly looked up. To her horror, one of those creatures stood behind her, looking at her famished. The girl let out a loud scream, pulling Angie close to her chest. But before the creature could put its sharp rotten nails on her, its head was smashed by something, making its blood splash all over her. The girl, who was still in shock, stared at the creature's headless remains, her body trembling like a leaf and her heartbeat thudding loudly.

Suddenly, her hair was grabbed, and she was picked up like a rag doll. Her eyes stayed fixated on the mushy brown ground, but a gloved hand grabbed her face and forced her to look at the person. It was the man with a hammer.

"Mhmm...Young blood," He said, observing the girl's face. His eyes landed on her ruby-red necklace. "Scarlet, eh." The man dropped Donna, and she landed with a soft grunt. He bent down to her level, watching her closely. The girl was about to beg for grace. The sounds of painful screams made her turn towards the horrific scene. The dwarfs were set on fire, all of them hurdling close to each other, screaming into each other's bodies as if sharing their pain and death.

The man in front of her grabbed her face and made him look at her again, pulling out something from his coat. An apple. Delightfully red. He brought the fruit closer to the girl's lips. Without wasting another second, Donna grabbed the apple from his hand and bit into its scrumptious flesh, greedily and ravenously. Without chewing properly, she bit into more and more until she choked a few pieces out.

The man watched the girl eat in dark amusement. A raven perched on his shoulder, crowing in his ears, making him grimace.

"Yeah yeah, it's poisoned." He said, shooing the raven away. The girl was just halfway through her apple, but she felt dizzy and sick. It was as if the world was spinning at such a fast pace, and she felt as if she was losing control of her body. The man effortlessly put the girl on his shoulder and walked away while magically getting his hammer to fly right into his hands.

...

Donna's eyes fluttered open to the sound of people talking and the muffled mewls of a younger person, probably a girl. She felt hot, and an unusual but familiar pain tingled throughout her body, pulsating through each nerve excruciatingly. The girl tried to move her wrists, but there was something tight and sharp clamped around her wrists, restraining any movement.

Angie...Angie wasn't there in her hands. Donna bolted up, alarmed and terrified. The room she was in was quite cold, dark and damp, like the inside of a cave. It was dimly lit by the lamps on the walls. In front of her stood a woman with raven feathers unfurled behind her. To her right was the hammer-man, telling the woman about something. Between them was another chained girl with platinum blonde hair, bloodied, bruised and naked. Probably a survivor. Or a prey.

The lady with the raven feathers grabbed the blonde girl's face and lifted her up, her feet away from the ground.

"Young Rose...Fresh virgin blood," The woman mused with a slight grin, squeezing the girl, Rose's face. The woman brought her closer, taking a deep whiff of the girl's neck. "She smells delicious. Girls! Come here!" The woman shouted, and out of the shadows glided three women, giggling and jumping with their faces covered in blood. As they walked, a swarm of flies surrounded them and, out of their sleeves, fell off maggots- wet and slimy.

The raven woman threw Rose in their direction, and the poor girl fell with a loud thud. "Her blood, please." The woman ordered the three girls.

"Of course, Mother Miranda!" The girls giggled and laughed, taking Rose and throwing her to a bed of needles and kept pushing her deeper into the sharp metal, impaling the helpless girl's body. The cave echoed with the laughter of the insect-witches and the weak cries of dying Rose.

Donna watched the scene in horror and started crawling backwards until her back hit the wall.  The raven lady, Mother Miranda, turned her attention to Donna, looking at her with steely darkened eyes. The woman disappeared into a murder of crows and suddenly appeared in front of the girl and kneeled down to her eye level. Her pale and cold fingers grabbed the girl's jaw and pulled her forward, observing her closely.

"What is your name, child?"

"D-Donna", The girl stuttered, shaking uncontrollably. "Donna Beneviento."

"Ah, House Beneviento! My daughters and their spawns recently ravaged their Village and families," Mother Miranda chimed, looking at the three insect-witches who kept stabbing Rose's mutilated corpse with their large metallic nails. "Young Rose was from there."

"W-Why d-do you kill?" Mother Miranda smiled at the girl as she pushed the stray strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Human fear and blood keep us alive." The woman traced her fingers across Donna's cheekbones. "We were damned by the Old Gods, the ones who were in favour of your wretched kind."

"Y-you are all m-monsters!" Donna choked out, pushing herself away from the woman's touch. Mother Miranda grabbed a fistful of the girl's hair and pulled her close, biting the girl's neck. Donna let out a piercing scream, trying to pull herself away from the woman.

"Ah, that's a first. You're not Virgin blood. Unchaste!" Miranda raised an eyebrow and looked at the girl in disgust.

//"Stained and the tarnished scent of the vile harlot"//

A tiny scar near the girl's left eye caught Miranda's attention. The woman roughly pushed her hair away and looked at Donna's blistered scar in revulsion. "And she is a cripple."

"Not a virtuous Doll, eh?" The hammer man chimed, looking at Donna in amusement, but once his eye landed on her scar, his smile dropped.

Doll...Doll...Angie! Donna gasped and looked up at the hammer man in distress. "Angie! Where is Angie, my doll?!"

"Burning." Mother Miranda replied with an indifferent expression.

"W-What? N-no! NO!" Donna screamed and shouted, trying to push herself upon Miranda, but the woman was strong. Without much effort, she slapped Donna, making the girl break down into a whimpering mess.

Angie. The only remnant of her innocence now burnt away in the heat.

"This one's of no use to me."

"But she smells so delightful!" Said one of the insect witches, sniffing her around and licking the blood of the wound where Miranda had bitten her.

"Indeed she is, child. But your Mother won't be pleased with any of you drinking impure blood," Miranda spat, looking at Donna in contempt. Donna looked down, ashamed and embarrassed at the way they kept taunting her. Just like how she was harassed in her Village for something that wasn't even her fault...

'I did not fall...I did not fall...'

"Alright then, she can be a nice play-thing for the Lycans." The hammer man said, putting his hammer on the ground and resting his weight on it.

"Fine then, Heisenberg. The girl's fate is in your hands." Mother Miranda got up, glaring at the girl.

His name is...Heisenberg? Familiar name.

The man nodded, grabbed the girl's chain. He pulled the chain sharply with a slight grunt, making the girl stumble and dragged her across the sharp stony ground. Donna let out soft mewls of pain.

"Quit your whining!" He said as he dragged her slower this time, making every inch of her skin throb, red and wet.

-

Sounds of metal grinding metal stirred the girl from her disturbed slumber. She wasn't sure how she slept off. She was still shackled in chains, but instead of being seated in front of a Cult family, she sat alone in a chamber, cold. And wet.

"Ah, you're up!" A loud, boisterous sound made the girl flinch lightly. She slowly tilted her head up to look at the person.

Heisenberg. Smirking and eyes glinting with mischief. He held out a water jug to the girl. Although she desperately needed it to quench her thirst and wet her dried mouth, after the poisoned apple, she was afraid.

"Relax, there's nothing in the water," Heisenberg rolled his eyes in annoyance. The girl hesitated to take the glass from him, which caused the man to groan in frustration and sipped a little of the water. "See? I am alive. It's normal water,"

Donna quickly grabbed the jug from him with trembling hands and drank the water, messily and shakily, the water running down her neck. She drank in so fast that the poor girl choked on water, coughing up some of it.

Heisenberg chuckled, sliding a plate of stale bread and some bright coloured fruit. The girl didn't wait for another second and quickly devoured the food down, juice of the squished fruit staining her skin and clothes. Heisenberg observed the girl quietly with a neutral expression. Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it up, smoking in a direction away from the girl's face.

"W-Why a-are y-you not killing m-me?" Donna's soft stutters pulled the man out of his thoughts. He rubbed his eyes as he contemplated her question, letting out a soft yawn.

"Didn't you hear what I told Miranda?" Donna nodded her head sideways, making the man sigh. "A play-thing for the beasts."

"W-Will they...k-kill me?"

"That depends." Heisenberg shrugged, walking away from the room. "Oh, and the chains will stay. " He said, closing the door behind him.

Donna pulled her legs close to her chest, tears trailing down her eyes. Her skin was bruised and bloodied, her clothes tattered, she stank, she was starved, she was tortured, and she was ruined. Too much for a lifetime.

The sound of the crow of a raven made the girl lookup. 'How did that bird get in?' The girl thought, looking at the bird baffled. The raven had red eyes and looked at the girl menacingly. It let out one more shrill crow and dove straight towards her, its sharp beak pointing at her. Donna curled into her legs and let out a whimper, too tired to scream. But the attack never happened. Instead, a laugh- malicious and vulgar- emerged. Donna looked up, and there stood the Hag.

//Broken disgusting whore! Shame on you!//

Donna didn't fight back. She stayed quiet, thinking of her time at home, back in the Village. The Hag continued with her taunts and screams, her ravens poking the girl's delicate flesh, but the girl was too tired, too lost. Too broken.

"I know," Donna whispered, fresh hot tears trailing down her cheek as she remembered the night, back in the Village, when she got the Stigma of the Fallen Maiden- The whore.

Bodies sticking together with sweat. A heavy weight on her chest crushing the delicate flesh of her breasts. Hair yanked and tugged with a few strands ripped off. Teeth biting deep into her skin, blood flowing out of it. An unbearable pain as she felt herself lose her chastity and virtue...No longer virginal and innocent. She was marked and claimed by another man.

//You are no graceful deer like a faithful virtuous maiden! You intoxicate them with your ardour! You vile demon!//

"I know," Donna whispered again, her eyes heavy and burning and swollen. She cried no more. She couldn't. There was nothing to cry for. She was forever going to be this- a whore.

"Oi Hag! Get the fuck outta here! Go teach your lessons about virtues and morality to those Demitrescu girls." It was Heisenberg. The Hag turned back at the man and laughed loudly and sharply, making both Donna and Heisenberg wince in pain. The older woman burst into raven feathers, disappearing from the room.  Heisenberg turned his attention towards Donna. He took a few steps towards her until he was close enough.

"I know what happened that night," He said, looking dead into Donna's shocked eyes. How did he know? The man sat down, placing his hammer by his side and taking his hat off, running his hand through his hair.

"H-how did y-you know?" Donna asked, looking up to the man.

"Tales like these spread fast through the Village and beyond." He shrugged. Donna nodded, her eyes glued to the cold ground, observing its cracks and crevices.  "You don't remember me do you?" Donna looked at the man. The name Heisenberg did ring a bell for her. But she couldn't recall from where. "Ya remember the name, Karl?"

Karl...Karl...Heisenberg...

Karl Heisenberg! Heisenberg's son!

Donna nodded her head lightly, old memories of their time together as children returning to her. It was him.

The only child in the Village who was never afraid of her or treated her differently. Every time they were together, Karl's father would forcefully pull him away, shouting and screaming and hitting him for playing with the Spawn of Demon. But that never stopped Karl from going back to her.

Until.

They turned 16. She was a woman, and he was a man. She grew beautiful, and he grew taller.

She couldn't remember much, except one night during the Village's ritual: Young women who bled for the first time.

It was in the outskirts of the woods. Young Karl and Young Donna. Sitting by the rock. Moonlight dancing on their youthful flustered faces. Karl's gentle hand on her cheek, pulling her closer. And closer. And closer. Lips just touching. So soft.

"You disgusting boy!" And after that, all she remembered was being pushed away by Karl's father, her head hitting the ground sharply. And Karl's faint cries, "Donna!"

"W-Where d-did you go after that day?" Donna asked, her hands deeply buried into the fabric of her clothes.

"Father sent me away to another Village, to live with my uncle. Cruel man- known to straighten up Wild Things. But I just ran away." He shrugged.  There was a silence between the pair. But this was a comfortable one—just the sounds of their breathing, with the gentle whistle of the winds outside.

"Why here?"

"Mhmm?" Heisenberg peered at Donna, rubbing his scruff. "Ah well, like you, that useless Hag caught me. But things are fine here. I get a roof on my head, food and clothes. No whores though," He snickered but immediately stopped seeing Donna flinch at the word. "If you want to survive here, don't let that hag get to you."

"Do you have any advice on how I'll survive you?" The girl asked.

"Huh. Why do ya ask?"

"You say I am a play-thing for the Lycans. You said they might eat me."

"Ah, that. Yes, the Lycans do enjoy the company. They're just dogs." He said nonchalantly, waving his hand.

"But I don't want to stay here."

"Unfortunately, Donna, for people like you and me who are called 'wild' and 'vile', this is the only place that we get close to home." Donna looked away, feeling fresh hot tears prickling in her eyes.

"There's no 'we', Karl," The girl snapped. Karl hid his surprise at her sudden change of demeanour behind an irritated scowl. "I am everything you're not. I am not a vile whore-"

"GODDAMIT DONNA", Karl stood up, throwing away his hammer in frustration, breaking something nearby. "How long, how fucking long are you gonna keep crying about that bullshit?! It happened. You were fucked, whether you like it or not. Going around telling everyone that you aren't a whore won't change anything-"

"I know," Donna whispered, shivering from cold and fear. "Believe me, I know." The woman looked up to Karl, staring deep into his eyes. "But that doesn't make me a whore. That doesn't make me vile."

"Then you fucking accept the circumstances. It is written in our fates." Heisenberg sighed.

Donna stared at Heisenberg, pained by the helplessness that radiated off him, as the memory played in her mind.

Fate...

"Karl, your father won't let me be with you. Forget being near you. Your reputation will be tarnished because of me. The Village thinks I am cursed," Said a 15-year-old Donna. It was nighttime during one of their many midnight trysts in the woods. When the Villagers were fast asleep, and no one tried to hurt the couple.

"To hell with the Villagers and my father. They can say whatever the fuck they want, but I will have this life my way, and I will take you with me." Donna smiled softly, feeling her heart fluttering at her lover's determination and adamance to want a life with her despite all the difficulties they would face.

"But what if this is how things have to be? What if it is just...written in our stars?"

"Well then, fuck the stars. It's our lives. No one has a say in it. You choose your path and if that makes you happy, then fuck everything else. You choose your fate," He said, planting a soft peck on her cheek.

"You told me that day, we choose our fate, Karl," Heisenberg grunted, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Yea. I fucking did. Now, where has it got us both, hm?"

Donna stood up from her place shakily and limped towards Karl until she could feel the tug of her shackles. She was close enough. She raised a hand towards the man's face, but before she could touch him, his hand shot up and grasped hers.

"Don't", He growled, his ocean-blue eyes piercing into hers, trying to intimidate her.

"Please," She whispered, wriggling her hands a little, making the man drop his hand, letting the woman touch his face.

Donna slowly traced his scars. A story behind every one of them. Some she knew, some she did not. Karl didn't flinch as she kept caressing his rough skin with her softer, bruised fingers. He just looked at her as if searching in her for the old Donna he knew. The old Donna would dream with him about a beautiful future they would never have. He found her.

But to Donna, she never saw her old Karl. The one who dared to dream despite their doomed circumstances. He was now a broken man. A hopeless man who had seen and been through enough. A man who forgot what it was to experience bliss.

"I don't know if I will ever get to live this life with you, the way we dreamed. But...If there is still some life in you, I'd like that." Donna said, pulling her hand slowly trailing to Karl's chest, feeling the soft, slow thud of his heartbeat. With a wave of his hand, Donna's shackles broke. Karl slowly encircled his arms around her waist, gently but firmly and pulled her closer. With a hand cupping her cheek, he looked at her.

"I would have loved that. But look at me now. I am one of them." He said, his hand lingering on a cut on her cheek that she got because of him when he dragged her towards the factory. "But you. You can live on. A better life."

"I could have, but that better life that I wanted," Donna paused, breathing in as she felt her words being swallowed. "I wanted it with you."

"But I can't give that to you, Donna."

"Then give it to me here. Right here." Donna said, inching closer to Karl, feeling his hot breath on her cold damped skin. Karl pulled her close and rested his head on her forehead, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth and comfort he got from her.

"Get some rest. By tomorrow, you will be better." Karl said, pulling away from her. Donna held his hands tight, afraid to let him go. Afraid to lose him again.

"W-What do you mean?" Karl slowly loosened her grip on his hands and smiled at her softly. Picking up his hat and hammer, he walked out of the room, shutting it from outside. Donna sat down, confused and dejected. Lying down on the cold floor, the girl shut her eyes tightly and sobbed, her wails and whimpers slowly lulling her to sleep.

-

It was as if the ground below her was shaking. She didn't know what it was. Donna jerked awake as she felt a sudden push from below. The girl gasped, looking around. It wasn't the room where Karl had kept her. It was...smaller and more cramped and...moving?

"Ah, Lady Beneviento! You are awake!" A jovial and cheery voice pulled Donna's attention. It was a man, friendly and big.

"W-Who are you, and where am I?"

"I am the Duke, a humble merchant, and you are in my carriage. Lord Heisenberg asked me to take you to the other side of the forest."

"Karl? Karl, where is he?!" Donna asked, looking around frantically.

"He couldn't make it," Duke said apologetically. "He wants you to take that little box. That should help you earn a living, not luxurious, but enough to survive," Donna looked to her right and there it was, the box. She opened it, and inside was Karl's chain that he wore every day, some coins and some ornaments. And a small doll that resembled Angie. But prettier and newer.

"What happened back there?"

"Lady Miranda caught him trying to escape. Ah, it looks like we're here!"

"Duke. Can I go back?"

"I'd suggest you not. He wants you to stay alive, my Lady. Best you honour his wishes. Do this for him" Donna looked at the chain, tracing the engravings on it. The girl looked into the box and saw a small note in it.

Thank you for setting me free. I hope to see you in another life where we will be together, just like we dreamt.

The girl pulled the note to her chest, feeling a strange pain in her body. She felt heavy. She felt like she was breaking apart. She felt as if she couldn't breathe. Duke looked at the girl sadly. He couldn't help her, and he wasn't sure how to.

"Thank you," Donna muttered, stepping out of the carriage with the box in her hand. Ahead she saw a little Village. A chance for a new life, but one without Karl. How could she live without him?

'Best you honour his wishes. Do this for him.'

"Okay, Karl." Donna sniffed, a bittersweet smile on her face, as she walked towards the Village, her hand tightly clutching the chain. As she approached, a man, probably the gatekeeper, stopped her.

"Who are you, and state your purpose."

"Donna. Donna Heisenberg. I seek refuge in your Village. Mine was destroyed by monsters." The gatekeeper nodded and took a moment to observe her ragged state, his eyes softening as he noticed her bruises and blood.

"Alright, follow me. You can speak to his Majesty." Donna nodded, smiling softly.

A new life. A better life. For Karl.

In the woods, near the factory lay Karl Heisenberg, bloodied and stabbed on the ground. He held a glove tightly in his hand. Donna's glove. The one he pulled from her when his father forcefully separated him from Donna. Rubbing his thumb across the soft material of the glove, Karl smiled, looking up to the heavens, his vision fading away slowly.

"Thank you, Donna."

[necros-writing-stuff]

It felt dirty. It was definitely wrong. All the same, Robin stayed where she was; hidden behind the trees and bushes. You were splayed out on the ground, your clothes haphazardly thrown this way and that. A man she's never seen before has your knees pressed to your chest. Initially, she'd been afraid that you were being assaulted. But the way you were crying out the man's name, begging him for more. She'd have to ask you who this "Eden" guy was and about your relationship with him later. As it was, she felt frozen.

The man was large in more ways than one. From where she was, Robin could see how his fat cock stretched you open. He almost covered your entire body with his own. He was covered in scars from what she could tell. He wasn't nearly as undressed as you were. The large man grunted each time he rolled his hips into you. He spoke, but it was low; quiet enough that Robin couldn't hear what it was. What she could hear was your desperate moaning and his skin slapping against yours.

Unable to move from where she was, she briefly reflected on how the two of you ended up in the forest. You'd had a bad day. Whitney pushed you into the lockers, you were late to history, that Kylar kid apparently had a shrine dedicated to you in his locker, and you had detention. She wanted to do something nice for you and suggested a picnic. It was a beautiful day, nice and warm. When you got to the woods, the pair of you chose a nice spot in a clearing. A gust of wind blew her sun hat off, and she'd gone after it while you set up. Now here she was, pussy wet with need watching you, her best friend, get wrecked by a giant man and his monster cock. Neither he or you seemed to notice she was there, too lost in eachother.

Why was she so turned on by this? Why was she watching? She should leave, give you and your partner privacy. Instead, one of her shaking hands slowly crept up her sundress. She teased her slit through the damp fabric of her panties. The white cotton became transparent against her pussy. This was wrong. She needed to stop but she couldn't. Carefully, Robin wiggled out of her underwear. It hung around one of her ankles, threatening to slip off over her sandals. The first touch against her bare cunt sent a shiver up her spine. Touching herself wasn't something Robin did often. Especially not to you getting fucked stupid.

She covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her quiet moan when she slipped a finger into her wet heat. Her inexperience left her sensitive and needy. She was becoming too caught up in her own pleasure that she failed to notice her surroundings beyond you taking Eden's cock. She didn't hear the rustling of foliage behind her. Not when she inserted another finger, scissoring herself open. Nor did she hear the snapping of a twig behind her. Not when she pulled her sundress down to expose her breasts to the open air. Her perky nipples hard with arousal. She was too caught up in groping herself and fucking herself on her fingers, that she didn't notice the large, black colored wolf boy that came up behind her.

It wasn't until he pushed her forward, onto her hands and knees, that she remembered how dangerous the forest was. Again she was frozen, now out of fear. This was what she got for being a pervert. The wolf boy huffed the scent of her soaked pussy like an addict huffed paint. What was she supposed to do? Run? Scream? Struggle to get away? Before she could make a decision, the wolf boy ran his tongue from her hole, to her clit and back; stealing the air from her lungs. It felt so sinfully good, even if she didn't want it. The wolf boy pushed his tongue into Robin's virgin pussy and began fucking her with it.

She was horrified by the noise she made. A lustful moan that the wolf boy pulled from her. She wanted her first time to be with someone she loved. Not a feral wolf boy that lived in the woods. All the same, she remained pliant as he worked her open on his tongue. Her lower lip quivered as her thighs began to shake. The heat in her lower belly spread throughout her body, painting her face a deep, red color. She was close, she was going to cum on a wolf boy's tongue. Cum she did. Robin bent forward, biting her knuckle to keep herself quiet as she shook.

It was all the invitation the wolf boy needed. He pulled his face from Robin's twitching cunt and mounted her. His weight kept her pinned beneath him as he rubbed his meaty length along her folds. It definitely wasn't a human penis. She knew what they were supposed to look like. Hell, she could see one now as you and the man in the clearing switched positions. His cum spilled out of you, as you moved to straddle his cock, now riding him. Good god, she couldn't believe you had something that big inside you! Your head fell back when you slid down onto the man's cock; your hair sticking to your face from sweat.

Still she remained quiet, partly out of fear, partly out of a deviant curiosity that had peaked when she came. She'd only ever touched herself, infrequently; and she'd never cum like that on her fingers. Robin was still desperately aroused, still watching you get fucked by the huntsman. She took a sharp inhale through clenched teeth when the beast behind her pressed the pointed head of his cock against her virgin quim. Face pressed into the dirt, she mewled softly as the creature forced himself inside her. She felt sick, violated and… So, so good. The burning stretch hurt a little. But she and the wolf boy had prepped her well enough that it wasn't painful.

The wolf boy started with a fast pace that left Robin breathless. He hit so deep inside her, places she had never reached before. Each thrust sent jolts of lightning through her body. Her body was on fire and it felt amazing. She couldn't stop the lewd moans that slipped from her mouth, like the drool sliding down her chin.

"Such a good mate." The wolf boy snarled, nipping at her back. Robin whimpered at the praise, her pussy tightening around the unusual cock inside her. No, this was bad. It was going to make her cum again, on it's cock this time. Her eyes flickered to you again, once again on your back with Eden hammering away at your leaking pussy. Your eyes were rolled back in your head and your tongue hung out the side of your mouth.

Then the wolf boy struck a spot that made Robin see stars. Her walls clenched pleasantly around the length inside her, encouraging the wolf boy to do it again, and again, and again and-

Robin's whole body shook as she came, crying out like a whore and squirting all over the wolf boy's cock. He growled and doubled his efforts.

"Good mate, ready to breed. Going to knot mate." He growled. Robin was too lost in her own pleasure, blood having rushed to her ears. It wasn't until she felt something big and hard push against her opening that she came back to herself. Unfortunately, by then it was too late. The wolf boy forced his knot past the ring of muscles that tried to keep it away. She let out a soundless scream and fell limply to the ground. It hurt so much, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt!

He howled loudly from the pleasure of having his knot successfully taken by a fertile partner as he began flooding Robin's pussy with his cum. The hot rush of semen filling her up pushed Robin into a third orgasm.

The wolf boy's howl caught the attention of the man who had been fucking you. He was quick to dress himself and wrap you in his jacket. Eden lifted you into arms, carrying you bridal style. She watched as you weakly protested, but were ignored; too fucked out to do much of anything. When the swelling of the knot went down, the wolf boy pulled out of her. His spend gushed out of her like a broken dam, forming a pool in the dirt under them. He threw Robin over his shoulder and began carrying her off, in the opposite direction Eden had taken you. It was the last thing she saw before passing out.

(-anon 🚩 lol sorry for the late post, my phone died)

ROBIN GETTING THE PC TREATMENT YES!

This was a very good read.

[dwollsadventures]

The second part of a request from TheLOAD from... a while back. The initial one was the Nix/Nokk/Knucker piece. This one took me a little longer for a few reasons. Mostly school reasons. And writer's block reasons,  which is why this is taking the place of the monthly preview. And because, for research, I had to re-read the entirety of Drakon by Daniel Ogden for information. For those not used to my pedantry, this is not an "in-canon" family tree of the Greek dragons, such as you might see in those huge Greek mythology family tree pictures that are on the internet (I've got a few in my favorites from waaaaayyyy back as well). Rather, this is a way of showing how the concept of the dragon came about throughout time and how other beings are related through those branching lines. Of course this is presented as a lot more neat than it probably should be. If it were truly accurate it would have interconnected lines all over the place and obscure the little lizards. Before we talk about what's on the tree let's talk about what's not on it. Though Odgen talks about every (and I mean every) slightly Draconic being in Greek and Roman mythology, I've opted to include a trimmed down version. Because some, like Medusa and Lamia, I personally do not consider dragons proper, and others like the goddess Keto are relatively obscure and probably only exist to explain the existence of a related being (like the ketea). Creatures like Chimera and Typhoeus are included because, while not usually serpentine or draconic, they are in effect dragons; horrible, vaguely reptilian monsters slain by a hero. Not every individual dragon is depicted, only the ones I thought pertinent to include. (warning: LONG)

To start with, a drakon is a snake. The Greeks used the word to refer to both huge monsters and mundane snakes. Drakon itself is derived from the word dérkomai and is believed to literally mean, "the one who sees". The hypnotizing power attributed to snakes is present in drakons, traditionally given the job of the sleepless guardian of treasure. Going back even further, we see that the drakon comes from two disparate cultural perceptions of snake, each of which is still present in its classical form.

Snake Goddess - One of the native precursors of the Greeks were the Minoans. They had more in common with their Egyptian and Near Eastern neighbors than the Italians and Balkans. From what little we can gather of their culture, it appears the snake was a symbol of the goddess. Whether or not it was any goddess in particular is unknown. This theme survives into ancient Greece, however. Athena often uses snakes as agents when acting with mortals, Hera uses them as well (the twin serpents who attempted to strangle Heracles and the Hydra), and Medea had a chariot pulled by snakes. Earth goddesses in particular are heavily associated with them. Python was a direct product of Gaia, and the snake was a divine symbol of Demeter, who also had a rad snake chariot. Even in mortal women, their dynamic with snakes and dragons is nurturing. Several heroines sing to snakes as their masculine counterparts steal the treasure they guard, fulfilling a nurturing role in comparison to the destructive masculine one. Here the snake is a guardian, a creature of the earth and everything beneath it, including gold and the dead. These dragons are usually not slain, but pacified by the presence of a woman. In addition, the beard is an originally Greek symbol associated with snakes, particularly those connected to the gods. This was quite possibly a signifier of their supernatural status above mundane serpents. The goddess depicted above isn't any one in particular, though her dress does pull from a statue of Athena holding a curled python.

Drakaina - One way in which the snake goddess has survived is in the drakaina. This word is simply the feminine form of drakon, but also encompasses the numerous beings characterized by having the upper body of a woman and the lower body of a drakon. Numerous beings in Greek mythology fit this theme, but the one I've focused on is the Scythian drakaina, a woman who intercepts Heracles during one of his labors and kidnaps some cows. She offers to return the cattle in exchange for a night of intercourse. And then Herc is off and we're told the three sons of that union go on to become kings of great renown in Scythia. Some authors interpret this as a Greek adaptation of a Scythian myth, with one of the key pieces of evidence being that the drakaina's name is Hora, meaning "Seasons". Regardless of whether or not this is a goddess, it is a story where the snake-woman is neither killed nor stolen from, instead given the prestige of being the founder of a line of kings.

PIE Chaos Serpent - From the Proto-Indo-Europeans up North, we get the dragon we're all more familiar with. Serpents of this breed, such as Apep, Tiamat, and Jormungand, are all enormous, destructive creatures allied with darkness and the unforgiving seas. They represent the primordial chaos from what order sprang out of, and often have a hand in trying to return the world to that way. One of the primary themes associated with them is the dragon slayer: a god or hero who fights a dragon to save something, be it a land or treasure or an Ethiopian princess.

Typhoeus - This guy, though significantly more humanoid and giant-like than any others, is the clearest example of a PIE chaos serpent in Greece. It does not get more typical than a giant snake (like) monster fighting a storm god. Typhoeus probably sprung from traditions where he was more serpentine, but gradually added other aspects. Such as his own storm god qualities. In Greece, gods associated with the winds are always given wings, save for Zeus. The two's battle is reflective of a battle between the terrible whirlwinds and lightning strikes and the calmer, helpful rain showers that enable humanity to survive. 

And then we get to the drakon proper. Taking elements from both sides of the tree, the archetypal Greek drakon is an enormous, often monstrous serpent associated with both the underground and the waters in some way. They are agents of gods, most often goddesses, sent to battle heroes or guard priceless treasures. Sometimes they're killed, sometimes they're merely lulled to sleep by a helpful maiden. Rather than breathing fire (which everything from mechanical bulls to horses to giants do), they possess venoms and rows of sharp teeth. Mention of their terrible gazes is often made. This drakon has both a beard and a casque-like crown, common elements in drakon descriptions from Greece. Its face is much less serpentine, being modeled after a clay illustration of the Colchian dragon. This gives is a suitably monstrous look, as if it were being pealed from layers of mud.

Chimera - Despite its odd appearance, the chimera fits the pattern of a dragon terrorizing a countryside and being slain by a plucky hero. The chimera may in fact be the originator of the classical Saint George imagery, where the saint is depicted as towering over a crawling, pitiful dragon. A 3rd century mosaic from Imperial Rome may have started this trend. What makes her (because despite her mane the Chimera is a female) stand apart from all the rest is the sheer strangeness of her form compared to others. Especially the little goat that comes out of her back, like a rider. Which I had to cut for spacing reasons :(

Hydra - Another classical Greek dragon is the multi-headed hydra, who has given its name to a whole genre of creatures with more heads than they ought to have. In addition to having the attributes of a typical Greek drakon, the Hydra has two traits seen in Mesopotamian monsters as well. The first is the amount of heads. Having many heads is not as common in Greece as it is in the Near East, where the idea of an eleven-headed sea serpent pops up numerous times across several different cultures. The second is that the hydra, in its earliest mentioning by Hesiod, is said to have been raised by Hera specifically to combat Heracles. This same tactic is done by a few Mesopotamian gods. In their realm of influence, monsters are pawns of the gods, who send them out to do their bidding on Earth while they lounge in Heaven. Our Hydra may have been a later influence from Greece's neighbors to the East. Also, had to add in the crab that Hera also sends in to help the hydra. If this were a spec bio piece, I would make it a species of crab that evolved to clean the hydra of parasites.

Cetus - Sea monsters such as these are perhaps the furthest from the traditional Greek drakon, while still remaining core parts of the mythology. In form cetoi range from exaggerations of real whales and sharks to dog-headed serpents with frilly fins and ears. Or even animal-headed fish. Because they live underwater, they almost always function as tools of divine vengeance. Kinda hard to steal treasure underwater. Heavy metal tends to sink. While cetus was originally a word for any sea monster, it would eventually become the root of the scientific term cetacean: whales and dolphins.

But the tree doesn't end there. See, even after the culture we recognize as the Ancient Greeks and Romans faded, their dragons still lived on. Medieval Europe, with its glorification of Greco-Roman texts, derived many of their folk beliefs from their predecessors. Or, the people who they liked to imagine were there predecessors.

Draco - The Romans adopted the Greek drakon whole-clothe, like a lot of stuff. The only noteworthy original dragon to come out of the pre-Fall Roman era was the Dacian Draco. The Dacians used the image of a dragon as a standard during war-time, represented as a serpent with the head of a dog. When conquered, the Romans adopted this, possibly beginning the Western tradition of associating dragons with military power and identity. The dog-headed serpent would also survive to the modern period, showing up in descriptions of Balkan lamya. 

Indian Drakon - Here begins a tradition in Greek and Roman literature that claimed that foreign parts were full of large, dangerous, and more interesting fauna than the mundane peninsula they were all stuck on. This is a common theme of humanity in general, where everyone you're not familiar with is teeming with exciting and ancient life. Just look at cryptozoology. India in particular was a favorite of Greek tall tales, being far away for journeys to be rare, but also rich and full of exotic animals. Philostratus populated India with three types of drakons: the lowly marsh, the silver hill, and the dazzling golden mountain drakons. They were typical in every respect, having enormous sizes, red crowns, beards, and guarding treasure beneath the earth. An interesting addition was that they were the mortal enemies of elephants. Being the largest land-animal (in real life), they made perfect prey for these humongous serpents. Feeding on them was fraught with peril, however, as the struggle between reptile and mammal could result in the death of either party, or both. To symbolize the foreignness of the drakon, I drew it as a sort of hybrid between the drakon and the Hindu naga. 

Pliny's Drakon - This drakon is otherwise the same as the Indian, but is the start of another theme. As time went on, philosophers began taking more grounded looks at fantastical animals. While also perpetuating even more outrageous falsehoods. None was more popular than Pliny the Elder, hence the name. He believed that, while foreign drakons might be real, they were much more similar to the snakes of Greece than the monsters of legend. He scoffed at the crowns and hair they were adorned with. His Natural History was the first of many instances where the fantastical elements of the dragon were toned down to seem more palatable to a scientifically minded audience. It also introduced an interest into the life history of the dragons, treating them as real animals with lives beyond the myths. Our dragon up top evolved to resemble pythons, rather than the other way around to what probably happened in real life, where pythons were exaggerated to become dragons.

Then, we get two foreign influences, which would come to shape the modern definition of the European dragon. Christianity's influence cannot be understated here. As Jonathan Evans states in Medieval Folklore, the dragon came to be confused with several other desert animals. In Jewish and early Christian belief, desert animals were themselves demonic, living in inhospitable regions devoid of human life. Later, texts like Revelations would specifically denote dragons as heralds of evil, and even harbingers of Armageddon itself. This is in contrast to the morally neutral Leviathan. In the medieval era, dragons were beings of evil, without a doubt. Bestiaries were full of on the nose fables about how the natural lives of dragons. Like how they could not stand the breath of a panther (a symbol of Jesus Christ). Or how they could not catch birds that nested in the Peridexion tree (the tree being the church and the birds being Christians, who are safe from the devil so long as they do not stray from the arms of God). This is represented by a typical medieval devil, being brightly colorful and made in mockery of God's creations, aka a weird hybrid with a snake coming out of his butt. Then, the Germanic dragon. This is seen especially in Northern and Western Europe. The Germanic dragon is otherwise similar to the Greek, except that it began as a character of evil. Lindworms and other serpents are almost always antagonists, and there is no heroine who saves them from their fate of death. They also had a stronger connection to treasure. Greek dragons guarded treasure as a job, but the very existence of Germanic dragons is tied with their golden hoards. In addition, in Greek myths, getting transformed into an animal is usually the end of one's story. With the Germanic dragon, it's merely the beginning. Transformed dragons act as antagonists and moral lessons wrapped in one; a lesson to all to not be greedy. Germanic dragons, represented by the lindworm, reinforced their role as antagonists and agents of selfish evil.

Which finally brings us to the medieval dragon. In a way, this creature is a mix of everything above. The dragon is an animal and demon in one, simultaneously a figure of evil who spoils the land around them and a living being with its own life and needs. The medieval era also introduces the origin of dragons, showing them as having nests and young, not simply coming into existence out of the earth or sea like before. They also developed some less reptilian traits, like wings and hair. This was probably because of artistic traditions among the monks who wrote bestiaries rather than popular legend, which continued to conflate them with snakes and lizards and even crocodiles. This particular line of the tree would develop a life of its own, spreading far and wide across Europe and eventually reaching beyond the seas. Our modern conceptions of dragons are a whole 'nother story.

[selfshipstorm]

introducing... elizabeth lewis

BASICS Full Name : Elizabeth Lewis Nicknames : Liz, Lizzie, The Lady of the Woods Age : 24 Appearance : Elizabeth stands at 5'6" with a thicker frame. Her hair is light brown and reaches to the small of her back when left down. Her eyes are green. She shares some visual traits with the lycans, mainly the altered pupil shape in the eyes and obviously sharper teeth. She bares scars on her body that have gained a texture similar to tree bark from where the Cadou manifested. Her clothing is simply what remains of what she had with her and things she has taken from the village, giving her wardrobe a rather patchwork effect. Occupation : former researcher Backstory : Elizabeth grew up alright, and actually gained a rather prominent standing within a few scientific communities, mainly experimental biochemics. She took a vacation to take a break, but there was secondary motives. She'd heard legends of monsters in a small village in eastern Europe, and wanted to see for herself. The last thing she expected was Mother Miranda, giving her powers she couldn't explain and then pretending that Elizabeth simply did not exist. Because her powers took time to develop, Elizabeth was considered a failed experiment, and was sent out of the village. Liz decided to remain, and set up her own base in the woods outside of the village. She manages to steer clear of the Lords, until she meets Karl Hei.senberg. 

RELATIONSHIPS Love Interest : Karl He.isenberg Friend Group : Karl, Alcina ( eventually ), Angie, Donna

ABILITIES The Cadou granted Elizabeth botanokinesis and mild geokinesis, which were the most immediately obvious results of her infection. However, through further research, Elizabeth noted that she could use her Cadou to grant life back to various woodland creatures she'd find left behind by the lycans. Her Cadou also granted her the ability to transform into a giant raven, as well as grow wings while in her human form, granting flight. A bit more about her forms and their size.

banner photos from her pinterest board! : carrd page : her tag : ship tag : power tag :

[materlux]

Nemophilist

Nemophilist: (n.) A haunter of the woods; one who loves the forest and its beauty and solitude.

  The script brings Kafka and Blade to a post-post-apocalyptic world, inhabited by primitive humans who believe in ghosts and monsters. But in the forest a monster really does live, but it’s not evil, just slightly stupid. The monster is you, by the way.

CW: Idk?

Honkai Star Rail | Main Masterlist

This planet had experienced a catastrophic incident many amber eras ago, this has left its remaining life forms cut off from the rest of the cosmos. The people of this planet are, what the Genius Society would label, primitive. They do not understand the giant metal structures left behind by their forefathers, they have no knowledge of the aeons, or of the place they once occupied in the vast universe. To put it simply, it’s like someone pressed the ‘reset’ button on their civilization.

   This explains why the script was so simple and short, no one on this planet knew who they were, they believed they were celestial bodies from beyond the stars. Kafka enjoyed the treatment, compared to how they normally had to avoid all open areas, it was refreshing to be welcomed. Although Blade would much prefer the usual, if only because then he’d be left alone.

   Their mission is simple: Retrieve an ancient maschine core, something this planet's forefathers used to trade for high prices, and get back. The hard part would be to locate the core, it has been deactivated for centuries and the ruins of old have become overgrown.

   The locals are of little help, only talking of wild superstitions and monsters in the forest. The village they are at now borders with a dense forest of tall trees, the locals fear it, saying it’s home to ghosts and a monster. Kafka smiles and nods along as they explain, but her smile is one of barely hidden amusement, not sympathy.

   But a local makes a comment that catches both their attention, the monster lives in the body of a giant metal box, surrounded by other metal boxes. It’s a crude way to describe it, but this planet’s people used to live in giant artificial floating cities, the machine core they were searching for must be hidden in one such building.

   Kafka comes up with a plan and uses the people's beliefs of a monster to her advantage, she promises that she and her companion, Blade, will slay the monster for them. She makes a show of telling the people of their great endeavours and heroic acts, Blade thinks she lays it on too thick, singing her own praise more than anything, but it works.

   The locals see them off as they enter the forest, creaking branches sway tall overhead, the ground is covered in plant growth. Luckily there is a passage carved through the bush, dirt and stone crunch under their boots.

   “This is like a walk in the park, it makes you wonder what the locals are so scared of.” Kafka makes idle musings as they walk, Blade pays her little mind, keeping his eyes on the surrounding undergrowth.

   “It’s been a while since we’ve had this simple of a mission.” Kafka continues to fill the silence, not expecting a reply. “Maybe we’ll even have time to stop by some of the other planets in this solar system.”

   Something fast moves between the ferns, Blade halts his movements and watches for a culprit, more ferns sway violently as it moves closer. Kafka watches with lax eyes, observing the way Blade tenses and summons his weapon; whatever small forest critter is moving its way towards them is surely going to regret it. But it’s not a small forest critter that stands at the edge of the path, it’s a small, vaguely humanoid, looking spirit thing; with wide blank eyes and stubby limbs. More gather at the edge, tilting their heads in thought.

   “These are the ghosts the locals fear?” Kafka can barely contain her amused grin. “They’re quite cute, no?” She looks at Blade, who is poking at them experimentally with the tip of his blade.

   “Cute is not the word I’d use,” Blade mutters as the small ghostly figures grab at his sword, unfazed by the threat. Kafka huffs a quiet laugh as she begins back down the path, Blade follows her, the small ghostly figures hot on their heels a few hanging off his sword.

  The path narrows the further in they go and the trees seem to grow in size, more of the ghostly figures gather around them, creating a long trail behind them. Until the ghosts break away from the path to effortlessly climb a tree, Kafka pays them no mind and neither does Blade, at first.

   But something large moves in the canopy above, Blade stares unblinkingly up at it, but there is nothing to see and the movement stops, the wind rushes through the leaves.

   “C’mon Bladie,” Kafka calls from up ahead, “it was probably just the wind, or a bird, or something.” He glares at the leaves for just a moment longer, before he follows after Kafka.

   Maybe if he had stood there for two moments longer, he would have seen you, but luckily for you that lady distracted him. The small ghosts gather around you, they clamber their way up your sides, and hang off your arms and antlers. An abomination of the abundance some would call you, although you were no child of a God, simply an oddity created in the chemical fallout of the apocalypse; not entirely plant, not entirely animal, not entirely human, but wholly alive and curious.

   His striking red eyes had pinpointed you immediately, even though you were certain you were hidden behind the branches, could he perhaps sense you. You slink off further into the canopy, the small ghosts ride along on your back, you move from branch to branch, from tree to tree with ease.

   In a clearing of flowers you lounge, limbs, human and not, stretched out in the soft grass. The small ghosts watch you from the shadows, unlike you, they are not immune to the sun’s rays. A patch of striking red flowers catches your gaze, they remind of the man, Bladie the lady called him, he’s been stuck on your mind for the past hours. It’s not often anyone wanders into the forest, and something about these two told you they weren’t like the locals.

   Maybe this would be your chance to find some company, as mean as it sounds, maybe you could even leave, you love the ghosts really, but they don’t make for great company. Compared to the newcomers who spoke and weren’t frightened of the monster in the forest, they were far better company. 

   But you had to make a good first impression, especially on the man, Bladie, he was the one most on edge, even threatening the small ghosts. Your eyes land on the red flowers again and an idea pops into your head, the locals give each other flowers as a sign of good intention, right?

   Grabbing a handful of flowers, you move up a nearby tree with ease, the ghosts happily follow after you as you weave along the canopy.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Kafka sits perched on a rock as Blade walks the edge of the small clearing, large branches overhead creates some shade. After looping around one last time he too settles down, he keeps his sword out and eyes alert, flicking around the canopy.

   “I doubt whatever you heard has followed us,” Kafka reasons, but Blade pays her little mind. A hoard of small ghosts tumble out of a large tree, gathering at its base and watching the canopy expectantly. Something larger and humanoid surprisingly elegantly makes its way down the trunk, Blade stands at attention like a guard dog, sword drawn and pointed. Kafka on the other hand leans back on her hands, curiosity in her eyes as she watches you move into the grass.

   You watch the man as he watches you, he’s threatening you, if you were smarter or maybe more skittish you’d have turned tail and run. But you weren’t, you had a plan and a handful of flowers, so calmly you walk across the clearing.

   You stand a sword’s length away from him, he is far taller than you and more noticeably built, for a moment you do consider turning tail. But you muster up the courage and extend your arm, red flowers shake in your hold. The two of you just stand there, staring at each other, it’s actually the lady that makes the first move.

   “Bladie, lower your sword, they just want to give you some flowers,” she coos, making her way through the grass. She stands by your sides and gently lowers his sword for him, he relents and sends it away, you watch perplexed as it disappears into thin air.

   “Red flowers, why red?” The lady asks you, if she expects a verbal reply, she’s sure to be surprised. Blade is, when you step up close to him and hold the flowers up to his face, right beside his eye.

   “Oh I see, those do match his eyes quite well,” she agrees, it makes you feel a little giddy. You don’t often get praised, it’s not often you have any social interaction at all, the locals are terrified of you.

   The lady, who introduced herself as Kafka, has now spent the better half of 30 minutes teaching you how to say her name. You kinda get there, but you only really make half the sounds before giving up. The two let you tag along as they explore the forest, reiteration; Kafka lets you tag along, Blade tolerates your presence at best.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

   As the sun begins to set over the horizon, you wander off into the forest, making your way back to your home. A nest-like structure hidden away in some metallic ruins, you, who was here when they fell out of the sky, remember what the locals forgot. The only problem is, you don’t have a universal translator, and you cannot for the life of you remember more than a word or two in the universal language.

   “Where are you going?” Kafka asks as you stand before a tree, you tilt your head over your shoulder. You try to make sense of what she said, as well as come up with a proper reply.

   “Home?” You croak, your vocal cords having gone unused for years are straining to form just one word. Kafka smiles and nods, you relax, you think that means you picked the right word.

   “Can we go with you?” She looks amused, you think, by your little predicament. You decide to just copy her head movement, a nod.

   It’s not a long walk from the clearing, you make your way up the creaking metal structure, and make yourself comfy among the old fabrics you’ve scavenged. Kafka and Blade stay on a lower level, you hang slightly off the ledge to peer down at them, they start a fire to keep warm.

   In the morning you’re awoken by the sound of rummaging, you follow the sound to find Kafka and Blade, mostly Blade, Kafka wouldn’t want to dirty her nice clothes, looking through the wreck. You tilt your head at them as Blade moves a piece of metal with ease, he huffs when he finds nothing but more debris.

   “Good morning,” Kafka greets you, “I put Bladie to work.” She smiles.

   “Bladie,” you mimic her speech, the man in question freezes and then throws a glare over his shoulder, Kafka only laughs.

   “They’re like a parrot,” Kafka muses.

   “Parrot?” You tilt your head in confusion, but Kafka just smiles like you just proved her point exactly.

   As the day goes by and they continue searching for something, Kafka watches amused as you observe Blade, you mutter ‘Bladie’ at him a few times only to be met with his glare. You are very confused, when you mutter ‘Kafka’ at Kafka she just smiles, why does he seem so upset?

   At some point Kafka makes use of your curious nature and obvious understanding of this place, she shows you what they are looking for, a look of recognition passes over your face before you disappear into the wreck.

   A couple hours later, while Kafka enjoys the tranquil atmosphere and Blade continues to be ever vigilant, you stumble less elegantly out of the crash site. Something cradled in your arms, you settle before Kafka and offer it to her. Before her feet now lay the exact machine core they were looking for, and it’s still in good condition.

   “I told you this script would be easy,” she smiles at Blade, who only huffs. “Well thank you.” Her hand gently rests on your head.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Helping them was easy and you got praise out of it, it made you feel good to help them, but now there is a new problem; they are leaving. You don't want them to leave, or rather you don’t want them to leave you. You offer them more flowers and other things, you hope to convey your message, but Kafka only coos at you and Blade pays you no mind.

   By the edge of the forest you make a sudden decision, Kafka stretches out in the sun, but before Blade can leave the shade. You latch onto his arm, he very nearly cuts your head off.

   “Stay,” you croak quietly. He tries to free his arm, but you don’t let up your grip. Kafka looks over the scene in amusement, but she interjects before Blade can actually hurt you.

   “We can’t stay.” She places a gentle hand on your head. “Why do you want us to stay?” She assesses the stressed out look on your face as you try to make sense of her words.

   “Alone.” Is the best response you can give with your limited vocabulary, Kafka coos at you again.

   “Sure, you can come along.” Blade makes a noise, but keeps his opinion to himself.

   The small ghosts gather by the edge of the forest, it’s they’re way of saying goodbye, you figure. In all these years you never thought you’d see the universe again, but before your eyes stars stretch for miles, you are now a member of the Stellaron hunters, or more like a glorified pet.

[folksaga-if]

“It is a long story, and it does no credit to anyone: there is murder in it, and trickery, lies and foolishness, seduction and pursuit.                                                                                           Listen."

                               - Neil Gaiman, Norse Mythology

You are a human. A totally normal one.

Honestly.

You’re a human. You’re a bartender, which is a very normal job for a human to have, and when you walk down the winding streets of Akureyri you can blend seamlessly into any crowd of people which is, without question, only something that a human could do.

The fact that you came here two years ago with nothing but the clothing on your back doesn’t mean anything; you’re hardly northern Iceland’s first wayfaring soul. That you had no money to your name, no friends or family to speak of — that’s a fairly average human thing, too. And that little craving you have, that quiet urge to dig your teeth into any passing stranger’s throat? It's completely, entirely mundane.

It’s manageable. You’re managing.

Or you were, until someone — someone who's decidedly not as good at this human thing as you are — begins leaving a trail of dead bodies at your doorstep, and a trio of god-like siblings take a seat at your bar.

(Ragnarök might have marked the end of the Norns, but that doesn't mean your fate died along with them.)

MAGNI THORSON .

No doubt the mightiest of his siblings, the eldest child of Thor is exactly the sort of person you would expect him to be: a giant (half-giant, in fact) asshole with a smoulder and a knife-sharp jawline to match. He’ll match your every word with a cocky grin and a joke that’s nowhere near as funny as he thinks, and he’ll look every inch the prince that he is all the while.

(Well, the prince that he was. Just don’t let him hear you say that.)

MODI THORSON .

For the supposed embodiment of his father’s wrath, the God of Thunder’s second son is surprisingly…not that. He’s no picnic, mind you — he’s broody, he’s secretive, and he's fucking intense, but that hardly equates to fury incarnate. You’re sure there’s something hiding under that moody surface; whether or not you want to uncover it is a different story entirely.

(Looks like even gods aren’t immune to middle-child syndrome. Who knew?)

THRÚD THORSDÓTTIR .

Valkyrie, seidhr, paragon of strength — with all of her mother’s best traits (and a few of her father’s worst), is it any wonder that Thor’s youngest child was also his favourite? Smarter than her half-brothers and more likeable by a longshot, you might find yourself forgetting how easily the fortune-telling goddess could break you in two. You might, but she’ll be happy to remind you if you do.

(Maybe a little too happy, in fact.)

KATLA B̶͍̏L̸̝͑O̵̟͠M̴̳̓Q̴̯̔V̵̺͆I̷̗͛S̵̠͒T̸̬̒ .

A fellow nomad and your coworker at Black Thunder, the first friend you made in Akureyri has remained your closest. Mischevious, magnetic, and often up to no small amount of trouble, there are times when you think you might know Katla better than you know yourself. You even know about her…well, you know that she…sorry, what were you talking about again?

(It's just that it’s nice, being close to someone who’s so very human.)

THE MARE .

There’s a voice in your head and a shadow in your dreams, and they’re telling you to run. You probably shouldn’t trust them.

(…Right?)

Customize your monster character. New life, new you! Choose your gender identity, change your name, cut your hair, and remember: if you’re starting to grow tired of running from your past, try on a new outfit and start running faster.

Play as one of three runway creatures from Norse mythology — a cunning keeper of the forest, a charming warden of the lake, or a formidable guardian of the mountains. Each has its quirks (would you prefer a hollowed-out tree for a back, or webbed fingers and forearms covered in scales?), but they all have two key things in common: they’ll kill to protect their homes, and you’re definitely not one of them.

Choose your own fate, out of the countless that are presented to you. Had oatmeal instead of skyr with your breakfast this morning? You might have just brought about Ragnarök 2.0. Nice one, asshole.

Multiple romance options, with each available to pursue regardless of your gender or background. Ever wanted to kiss a god under a starry sky? Now's your chance! Or maybe you’re through with immortal beings and desperate to ask the pretty server on a date? Go for it! She’s definitely a human too. Totally. You’d be able to tell if she wasn’t. Wouldn’t you?

Save the world — or don’t. It's your choice, and isn't that what true freedom is all about?

Folksaga is inspired by The Edda, Norse mythology, and Twin Peaks, with a bit of tweaking to the myths as needed for the sake of plot. MC backgrounds have been adjusted to fit for all players regardless of gender identity, and creative liberty has been taken with some smaller points for a smoother storytelling experience. All changes will be explained in an FAQ post (too be added in the links below ASAP!)

The current demo consists of the prologue (introductory lore + character creation), which is about 20k words. I plan to post it in the next few weeks, after some edits + the completion of chapter one!

I expect it to be somewhere in the range of 600,000 to 700,000 words, but this is subject to change (and likely will due to my propensity for rambling text. oops.).

I’ve written  short and long-form original fiction as well as a lot of fanfic (say hello @ pentaghastly on AO3, and @kendallroynsfw on tumblr!), but this is my first IF! Bugs and coding issues may appear in the demo; please let me know if any issues arise during your playthroughs.

Folksaga is a work in progress. I would love constructive feedback when the demo is posted, as well as any bugs or grammar issues to be brought to my attention if I've missed them :) I would also love patience, because I'm a full time health care worker who gets sleepy lots xoxo

A Swedish farmer named Sven Andersson was executed in 1691 for having intercourse with a mountain nymph, or bergsrå. I will neither confirm or deny if his Wikipedia article was the inspiration for this IF, except I will confirm it and it definitely was.

MC ORIGINS | RO INTROS | demo coming soon!

[hitory--chan]

Day 5: Queen of the Garden

(Ranked T)

Title: In my withered roses you lay resting

Around the forest there were always legends of all kinds, about fantastic creatures and horrifying monsters beyond human imagination, about nymphs, fairies, werewolves and giant snakes that would devastate the entire town in a few minutes if they wanted to; they were just legends, stories to amaze or scare whoever would listen to them, hypnotizing the virgin ear that listened to them with their magnetism, leading their victim to demand more, driving them mad in the search to satisfy that need.

But there was one in particular, the biggest, the most fantastic, the most sublime and the most terrifying no one ever dared to tell, the one whose existence was only known to the oldest of the town who defended tooth and nail its veracity, but nevertheless only tell each other, remembering and crying the intense agony that each word conveyed.

The legend of Hinata, the queen of the garden in the heart of the forest, and Sasuke, the infamous king who without any army was able to penetrate the invulnerable barriers that protected the queen.

The king who never returned.

“My King!” One of her courtesans shouted. "Please, I beg you to reconsider!"

He ignored her, tightening the draws of his armor as the guards placed the shoulder pads and handed him his helmet, which he took.

It was still dark, the moonlight hanging over the entire sleeping kingdom as he prepared to leave.

"My lord, he turned, now listening to his first officer, Kakashi, who was speaking to him "Are you sure this is a good idea? Going into the forest alone?"

"It's not something I didn't do before, Kakashi, you should know" he replied without much interest as he grasped the reins of Onyx, the majestic black horse that had accompanied him for years.

"I understand, but it's not the same, your majesty, it never got beyond the Stone River" the man said, his voice so slow and dull as if it was something he was trained to say, but Sasuke knew him better than many as to know that there was concern hidden behind those dead tones “It is a great risk to take to find a woman that we do not even know exists”

"People are dying Kakashi, of hunger, of disease ..." He inclined his head a little towards his first officer, not enough to really see him “If that woman, that… witch exists, it will be our chance to solve all the evils that afflict us, if I find her, then I save my people”

“And if you do not find her, my lord?”

“Then we will have to take more drastic actions, actions that I don't think we're ready for right now, Kakashi”

The silence that followed told Sasuke that the man knew what he was referring to.

They had recently fought a war against a rival kingdom that wanted to take over all his lands. They attacked in the middle of the night, cowardly seeking to have the tactical advantage darkness gave them without expecting the surprise that they were ready to fight back with much more violence than would be expected of a small kingdom that barely prospered in comparison to others. Many lives were lost on both sides, but his army had kept the slightest advantage over the invaders and captured the main officers of the intruders, executing him right on the battlefield as he had ordered them to do, closing any openings to negotiation the rival might propose.

They rose above them and conquered, drove the remaining invaders from their lands and proclaimed their victory, but they had not come out without casualties, as happened in any other war.

Their crops were burned and their women desecrated. Bodies of infants who had adventured out of their hiding spots now laying among the corpses of their fathers and men who sacrificed their lives in the name of the king's sovereignty, waiting to be buried or burned while their mothers, wives, and brothers mourned their losses.

Soon after came the diseases, plagues so violent that even the best physicians in the kingdom had succumbed to permanent contact with the infected and were now lying in beds, signaling with weak voices to proceed to their charges.

The only hope was the woman who dwelt in the depths of the forest, a queen in her own right, the oracle told him, whose miraculous fingers brought life to everything she touched. A witch, servant of the devil, counterattacked the priest, who would only bring bliss before plunging them further into misery.

A queen, a witch, Sasuke didn't care, he only wanted her hands to heal his people, determined to cut them off if necessary to save the few that were left.

Then Sasuke mounted his horse and reached out his hand, taking the sword that Kakashi had prepared for him and fastening it to his waist strap, where it would remain with him throughout his journey.

"Itachi will be in charge while I'm gone" he decreed, looking at his court, who looked at him in surprise and disbelief.

“My king, my lord!” The woman spoke again “His majesty is very ill for this task, I fear that his condition is too delicate to carry the role, your highness!”

“My brother already ruled once in a worse state than the one he currently is in while waiting for me to grow up to cede the throne, he certainly can do it a bit more while I'm gone”

“But sir…!”

"In case his condition worsens ..." he interrupted, with a tone of voice as icy as the look he gave the woman "in case he´s not an act to continue, then Kakashi will make all the decisions in my absence and my brother's disability”

Several indignant murmurs were heard from the other members of the court, annoyed by the possibility of a military man would rule them, but with the same look he gave the insolent woman, he quieted them all.

"Kakashi" he called and the man walked with him towards the limits of the kingdom that served as the border of the forest, trotting slowly as his first officer followed him with great ease "I trust you to keep everyone safe, especially my brother” he said, stopping his steed and staring at the man.

"My king's orders are my perpetual la," Kakashi recited, quoting the motto of imperial strength as he brought his right hand to his heart and bowed to him.

Sasuke nodded, but before starting his horse again, he spoke for the last time.

- And Kakashi ... execute her

Kakashi bowed again and Sasuke pulled the reins of his horse to start running, going into the forest when the first rays of dawn hit the ground, and knowing his order would be carried out without hesitation.

-----------------------------------

Inside the forest the thick trees hid any trace of the sun, giving the illusion that it was still night even though Sasuke knew it must be after eight.

Still he didn't back down, mentally reciting the directions the oracle had given him to find the mysterious woman.

“Once crossed the river of stone, the road will split for you, one more dangerous the other, competing for the new prey that appears before them. Be guided by the horrendous noises that make the bones of the strongest of men tremble, by the trail of perdition from which your eyes will not be able to turn away, from the putrid stench of those who defied the sanctity of the earth who stepped on impure feet.

Along the way you will find death's favorite resting place. Do not drink or eat the natural delicacies that will be shown for you, instead you must use your senses, facing the great beast that will attack from the shadows.

If the combat is satisfactory, then the beast will show its respects by leading you to its queen, otherwise, there will be the place of your last rest"

Naturally, oracles liked to be cryptic with their words to the point of making them indecipherable, but the more than a century old woman who had served three generations of her family had put those fanfare behind her, preferring to be as clear as possible in her revelations than risk a bad future for the kingdom because of misunderstandings out of her tongue.

Upon reaching the Stone River, he took a moment to observe the waters peacefully.

That river had been named this way not only because of the rock formation that simulated a natural bridge in the center of that great pool, just covering its surface with a thin layer of water that made it extremely slippery, but also because of the rock at its bottom, arranged in the shape of spikes so sharp that even the slightest fall on them could cause fatal injuries to the unfortunate victim.

He allowed Onyx to drink some of the water before venturing across the stone bridge.

His horse, fearless just like his owner, also had some afraid. On rare occasions he’d tried to cross that path through the waters with the equine, but his partner had acquired a phobia at that particular step when, being very young, he slipped on the stone and it was almost impossible for him to get back on his feet, almost falling to the bottom of the river when with desperate movements he slid to one side before finally reaching the bank of the river and climbing, being completely exhausted on the grass, all under the frightened gaze of his owner who had remained on dry land while his horse struggled.

He remembers that, after that, he had remained with Onyx there for longer than he ever was in that place, being found by the royal guard and brought to the castle only to remain expectant all night at the possibility of having to sacrifice the animal.

Now, Onyx was a majestic and imposing stallion with more history than half his stablemates, but from time to time he would turn back into a fearful foal when they were near that place.

However, while he normally wouldn't push him any further than he considered Onyx could take, this time around he couldn't afford to be understandable to his horse or to be left without a mount for the rest of the way.

“Come on boy!” He encouraged him, shaking the reins several times and smiling as Onyx, refusing at first, approached the rock and put his front legs on it, whinnying loudly as he took small terrified steps.

Even in the slippery material, the new horseshoes he had had his horse put on were being especially helpful in preventing the equine's legs from slipping over the rock even when Onyx's steps were somewhat shaky, leading the horse to gain a little confidence with every step until he was finally on the other side.

“Well done, Onyx!” He congratulated the horse, patting and stroking his neck before pulling out an apple, which he happily accepted.

He wasted no time and continued with the journey, reaching the place where the road divided in three.

At first glance they did not seem dangerous at all, leading him to wonder if the oracle had been wrong with her interpretation or if he had deviated from the correct path himself, but the sudden sound of something sliding on the ground caught his attention and put his whole body on guard again, waiting for any sign of attack.

Instead what he received was the cawing of birds, crows, he recognized, noises of something sliding and the screeching of bats that flew directly to his face at that moment, causing Onyx to panic and stand up on his two hind legs, almost making Sasuke to fall.

When he regained his balance and Onyx was back on all fours, Sasuke looked at the central path, remembering what the oracle had said and thinking that this should be the way to go, so he made the horse move forward, despite the reluctance of the animal.

The putrid stench started only a few minutes on the road before dead animals began to appear on the road, being replaced only a few meters later by human corpses in various states of putrefaction, from skeletons to bodies that should barely have been there for a few days. , and even recognized the uniform worn by the third-rank guards in his kingdom, only stuffed with bones, each corpse wrapped by vines and other local weeds.

He was forced to breathe as little as possible when the stench became impossible to bear, coming to vomit in the section where everything was strongest, without having the opportunity to breathe until the road began to clear of so much death, showing to his sight a great stone plateau clothed with climbing vines and rosebuds.

He got off his horse and gave him another snack, tying the reins to the tree farthest from the ferns and other plants full of fruit that he knew they shouldn't eat.

Slowly and carefully he approached the great structure, gazing at it in fascination. Up close, he noticed the spines that protruded around the roses of different sizes that decorated the plateau, which, he noticed, were deceptively sharp, cutting him at the simple touch and spilling a thick drop of blood that bathed the thorn that caused his wound.

The sudden tremor in his spine appeared as the slight trembling of the earth beneath his feet, accompanied by the sound of something sliding - something that must have been big and heavy, from the way it sounded - and then deafening silence was present. .

“Onyx!” He shouted, turning around when he heard the horse whinny and stop suddenly, expecting to meet the animal where he had left it, however in its place he found another type of animal, giant and with shiny black scales, which were only cut with the three red lines of scales on the tip of its tail, raised in the air with a swaying motion.

The gigantic snake kept its eyes fixed on his, hissing and showing off his forked white tongue.

Eyes wider than they had ever been in his life, he diverted them just a little to the rest of the great reptile's body, almost growling in pain at the bulge protruding from where, he guessed, was the stomach of the immense snake, sure it was the product of his horse swallowing.

Feeling the flame of fury ignite and grow in him, he grasped the hilt of his sword in a slow motion and drew it lightly, as the serpent rose a little higher above him.

With one swift movement he pulled it out completely as the snake lunged at him, barely being fast enough to avoid its jaws, but not fast enough to dodge its tail, which slammed it against a tree and left it stamped there until he nailed the sword almost halfway.

Even his powerful armor hadn't been enough to shield him from that blow, catching his breath cut short by the pressure of the limb that had held him captive, but he had no time to think about that as he tried to get away from the great perimeter that covered the snake.

The injured tail slammed into the ground next to him, causing him to stumble from the din it caused.

The reptile's head also collided with the ground a few feet from his back and then glided at high speed towards him, using its nose to push him up when he collided with him and sent him flying into the air as the snake rose again, now with its jaws open.

But Sasuke was able to hold on to the tip of the animal's nose and avoid being swallowed as he had done with his horse by resting his feet against the bottom of the snake's mouth and giving a little jump before it closed it, being helped by the impulse that the same reptile gave him before the abrupt movement it made while trying to make him fall.

Sasuke stayed on the snake's skull and held onto its scales as best he could before stabbing his sword - which he had clung to as much as he could during the attack - into one of the animal's eyes, which let out a shrill and strange sound before, to Sasuke's immense amazement, it made a 180 ° turn and threw himself hard against the floor, taking him with and crashing him on the flat surface, a blow so violent that it caused him to lose his helmet, his mobility and his strength.

--------------------------------

Only seconds before he lost consciousness he saw the towering snake - now one-eyed - rise above him before launching itself with his jaws open just as Sasuke's eyes finally gave up.

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was the immense throbbing pain in his head that only got worse when he tried to open his eyes, being hit by the brightest sunlight that forced him to close them again.

Where had so much light come from?

After a while, and when he was sure he could resist it, he opened his eyes again.

It took him a long time to regain the clarity of his sight, but once everything was clear he was astonished at what he saw.

In front of him a large colorful space, green above all, stood proud in all that light. Huge trees were here and there, casting great shadows, covered with fruit in great quantity.

A few meters from him was a lake with crystal clear waters, reflecting everything that was shown from above.

It was only when a slight movement behind him caught his attention that he realized he had been leaning against something cold, and when he turned around he felt as if his entire being had left his body when he found himself face to face with the giant eye yellowish that he recognized instantly.

He backed away quickly, grunting in pain as his muscles protested at his sudden movements, but instead of stopping to ease them, he fought them and reached for his sword at her waist, surprised not to find it.

The snake stared at him for a few seconds before lazily deflecting its head toward the center of the thread that had turned its body.

—You must not fear, it will not hurt you

He turned quickly and looked around, searching for the soft voice that he had said those words.

"Onyx" he breathed out, seeing the mate he had thought he lost, now lying on the grass, asleep on the other side of the lake.

Naturally those words were not said by the animal, but by the other person next to it, who was gently stroking the mane of his horse.

Their eyes met and he forgot how to breathe, incredulous of the moons that were his pupils, beautiful, and that without a doubt were looking directly at him.

The woman stood up and he could see her completely: snowy skin, long dark hair that swayed with every step she took. Her body was covered in leaves, branches and flowers that clung to her like a second layer. The upper part of her was covered by vines up to the middle of her breasts, being enough to cover the most. The lower part was a skirt, much less rigid than the upper one as it was made entirely of green leaves in different sizes, stopping only a few inches above her knees.

A long vine rested in the center of her abdomen, joining the two pieces as one.

She was barefoot and her hair was decorated with the most elaborate flower crown he had ever seen in his life.

As he passed by the lake, he stopped, crouching in the direction of the water, taking from the ground a large leaf of a plant that he did not recognize - and which he had not realized was lying there - and wrapped it gently until it formed a bowl that she plunged into the water until filled it, rising again and resuming its way towards him, now with the makeshift pot that spilled tiny drops from its bottom.

When she finally got to him, he saw her more clearly: thin and natural pink lips, a small and upturned nose, perfectly shaped eyebrows and long eyelashes that only marveled her appearance even more, also highlighting the lack of the slightest freckle on her face.

She offered him the bowl but he did not take it at first, still fascinated and hypnotized by the beauty of the woman in front of him until she pushed it to his chest, forcing him to hold it as she took one by one his hands between her smallest and drew them to the sides of the blade, releasing it when she made sure his grip was firm.

She, with one of her index fingers, touched the surface of the water three times in different parts, and when her hand lowered three different flowers grew in the water: a lotus, a calla and a water lily, which immediately disintegrated and mixed with the liquid, giving it a color that ranged from pink to purple.

"Take it" she said, looking into his eyes "it will help you heal."

He didn't know why, but he obeyed her and took the entire tonic in one gulp, grimacing when the bitter taste of it touched his tongue and she slid down her throat.

She smirked and turned around, walking back to where Onyx was now awake, looking at them wearily.

"It's you" was the first thing that came out of his mouth, looking at her completely uncovered back as she walked away from him “The witch”.

Her walking stopped and she turned around again, looking at him now with a frown, offended.

“That's very rude!. I am not a witch" she protested "My name is Hinata Hyuga, and I am the queen of this garden" she said proudly, turning to resume her march as if her statement was enough to deny his word.

But he would not be fooled; he had witnessed for himself what she had done in the water she had given him to drink.

He looked around him and his sight fell on his sword and armor, arranged neatly on the grass near the giant serpent's tail.

Slowly and careful not to be heard he approached his things and took the sword at the same time that with difficulty he took three steps back as the snake's tail moved to hit the ground and then returned to its original position.

It took a bit of trouble, but he was able to raise his sword and hold it with both hands, directing the tip in the direction in which that woman - that witch - was, now again sitting on the grass, stroking the back of his horse, looking at him unimpressed.

"Witch, you will come with me" he demanded "Everything will be easier if you do not resist, you will get a decent treatment: you will sleep in the softest bed, you will wear the finest clothes ... otherwise, if you resist, you ... you ..." He stopped for a moment, not for lack of words, but from shortness of breath —If… if you resist… the dungeon… the smallest and dirtiest dungeon will be…

"You’re hurting them" she interrupted, and he didn't understand.

The witch looked down and he followed her eyes, stopping at the sword that was now stuck in the middle of a small group of flowers.

When had he lowered his sword?

“What did you do to me?” He growled, aware of the progressive loss of strength to which he was subjected.

"It's the medicine" said the witch, calmly "for your body to heal, it must first rest”

And as if that were a command, his body fell apart, causing him to fall to the floor on a tall grass bed that he could swear was not there a moment ago.

- Witch! ... You will pay...

Unconsciousness welcomed him.

--------------------------------------

When he woke up there was still sunlight, quite clear, so he thought that maybe he had only slept a few seconds, but the environment felt different from before and he could hear the distinctive galloping and neighing of Onyx, going here and there as his footsteps slightly covered the happy laugh of the female.

He could not move his body freely, only just his fingers, and mentally he cursed himself for having taken that concoction that this evil woman had given him, clearly using her sorcery to weaken him.

“Your body still needs rest” he could have shuddered at the sudden voice if it weren't for the fact that he was paralyzed, shortly afterwards the witch's face appeared in his visual range, tilted from above so he could see her “you´ve been very hurt by your confrontation with Munda, your injuries will take a little longer to heal”

He grunted, annoyed.

“Why have you risked your life to get here, mortal?” She asked him, now in a more serious tone.

Then and once again without really knowing why, he began to tell her about his kingdom, about the moments of wealth and prosperity before the war struck, about the deaths and the lack of food that besieged them, making their situation worse. He told her about his brother and his mysterious bedridden illness, about the sudden barrenness of his lands, and how he had preferred to make this trip alone rather than take away much-needed protection in case they tried again to invade them during his absence.

In her face there was no sorrow, annoyance or joy for their misfortunes, instead it was pure curiosity what he could see while he finished explaining the reason why he was looking for her.

"Okay, I'll go with you" she answered with conviction.

He, who had gradually regained mobility to the point where he could now sit up and the waves of heat attacked him insistently, looked at her in surprise, unable to avoid questioning her decision.

"I'll go with you" she confirmed again "However, the starting path is more dangerous than the one you traveled to get here, so you will have to make a full recovery first" She stood up and looked at him “I cannot be away for long, this place depends on me, so I will help your people and leave immediately, it is my only condition”

He watched her, almost denying immediately that he could leave that easily, but he was quick enough to bite his tongue before speaking.

"Okay, then we have a deal" he agreed.

She nodded pleased and stood up, walking away from him and up a tiny hill where she began to press with her fingers the closed buds and the withered flowers that surrounded her, opening and coming back to life with the simple touch of her.

Despite having accepted, in his mind they only danced ways of how he would interrupt her departure, it would be very foolish of him to let her go that easy, a person with her abilities, whether witch or not, was unique, one in a million , and no self-respecting kingdom would let her go that easily.

He could try to convince her by showing her everything that she obviously didn't have in her "garden", the wonders of modernity, and if that couldn't convince her, well, he had dungeons at his disposal that he could trick her into or even without them, but surely he would not lose those abilities from his hands.

Satisfied with that plan, he began to touch the back of both of his hands, searching and removing the splinters that he did not know how he has nailed himself.

Even though Hinata's tonics were helping him recover faster than he normally would, it felt like it was actually taking forever.

There, the days and nights seemed to last longer than normal, as if the clock had 36 hours instead of 24.

Each remedy that Hinata gave her were different and she healed something different, like the one she used to make his bruises disappear, which were a combination of wild flowers and citrus fruits that melted in the water as soon as she created them and released. Those bruises that would normally take a week or more to fade, she had done it in almost three days.

The problem is that she could only give him a tonic for one thing at a time, along with the first one that she had given him so his body relaxes and rests.

Now he was drinking one that she claimed would help with his internal ailments, and he guessed she was referring to the bruised bones that barely allowed her to walk or breathe. This was particularly bitter and she had to take it several times a day, which was a mini torture considering that these wounds would take even longer to heal.

He was washing his armor when he heard her scream.

“No! Go away, you can't be here!”

His skin prickled when she heard it. Had someone entered that place? An ally or an enemy? The great snake that was supposed to be the only one that could make someone else reach that place, Munda, hadn't moved from the rock it had spread on the day before, almost looking dead if it weren't for the hiss it left escape from time to time, maybe someone had found a way to enter without facing the great reptile?

“No! Get away!”

Wasting no time he dropped the piece of armor he was washing into the water and instead grabbed his sword, gripping it tightly and ran - or rather, he limped quickly - looking beyond the trees and bushes until he saw her midnight hair, covered with small flowers of various colors, and he went quickly towards her, who kept her fists clenched and her arms stiff down, slapping the floor with one foot while she kept yelling at whoever was there to leave.

But as he got closer to her, he still couldn't see anyone else; maybe it was some invisible person? It would not be unreasonable to think about that.

Finally, when he got to her side, he saw whoever caused her annoyance.

"This… creature…" she began, making an exasperated gesture with her hand at the wild boar that nonchalantly ate the blackberries from the orchard it raided "This annoying creature won't go away!" I've tried everything but it keeps coming back”

He looked at her in disbelief.

“So much fuss over a wild boar?”

“Is this the name of this demon spawn?” She asked him, looking at him intensely "Do you know him?"

"It's a wild boar, there are hundreds of them in the forest" he said more calmly, dismissing the accusation of her previous question.

“Hundreds?!” She gasped in disbelief.

"Calm down, just ... get rid of him."

“I´ve tried it! But this ... boar keeps coming back”

He let out an exasperated sigh, thinking of suggesting of making her pet snake eat the animal, but dismissed the idea as he thought the reptile was pretty useless when it don´t came to attacking and killing unsuspecting humans and their horses near the plateau of stone.

Since he first woke up he had only seen it move a few inches and change position, so another idea occurred to him.

“Can you hold it?” He asked him “with your ivy?”

She looked at him curiously and suspiciously, but instead of answering vocally, she raised a hand and made a few short movements with her fingers before clenching her fist, catching the animal that began to screech in panic.

He approached it, and with a certain movement, cut off it head.

When he heard her loud gasp he looked back and there she was, her brows furrowed, her eyes staked and both of her hands covering her mouth.

He looked back at the now dead animal, grabbed it head and raised it before asking.

“Do you know fire?”

.

.

.

Sasuke sat on a rock while at the same time bringing the now cooked boar meat to his mouth, biting off a large chunk and tearing it from the rest so he could eat it.

Sitting on another rock on the other side of the bonfire he had made, Hinata found herself with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed, looking at him with such intensity as if she wanted to make his head explode with just her powerful gaze.

She was upset with him, that was clear. Since he had killed the animal and cut its meat into smaller portions so he could stick them into branches and put them on the fire to cook.

The turning point, however, was when he gathered branches and leaves and started the fire that he had surrounded with rocks of different sizes as a barrier so that the fire did not spread.

Apparently, she could forgive him for killing an animal even if she was clearly against it, but lighting wood and using leaves as a burning material was where she drew the line, practically declaring enmity at the prolonged silence she had maintained.

It was funny to tell the truth, even if preparing that meat and the dressing he had bathed it with to give it a little more flavor had been torture for his sprained wrist, it was worth it if I could see her normally relaxed and smiling face distorted with annoyance and disappointment, her lower lip sticking out childishly.

Furthermore, and despite the wide variety of fruits she had been feeding him - more delicious than he had ever eaten - he had really missed the taste of meat on his palate.

“Hey!” He called her even though it wasn't necessary, since she hadn't taken her gaze from him for a second. "Try a little" he said, spreading some meat even though he was too far for her to reach.

That scandalized her.

“I will not do it!” She vigorously refused, looking quite offended by his proposal “I'm not a savage!”

"Me neither" he said, shrugging even though he wanted to burst in laughs at her expression.

“You are eating a living being”

“You eat the children of your plants, but I don't judge you for doing that”

The expression on her face finally overcame him, making him laugh.

With difficulty and care, he rose to his feet and walked around the fire, sitting next to her and extending with his good hand the piece of meat he himself had previously been eating.

"Try a little" he repeated, but she pursed her lips and turned her face away, refusing.

“No, I do not like”

"You can't say you don't like it if you haven't tried it yet" he told her, repeating the words his mother had repeated so much to the fussy eight-year-old he was.

But she kept refusing, so he took another approach they used to use with him when he was especially difficult to feed: negotiation.

"How about this" he began “If you try a little of this, I promise I won't complain and take all your strange meds even if they taste like hell itself, you don't have to like it, just try a little”

She looked at him scrutinizingly, apparently looking for some kind of dishonesty, but he just brought his injured wrist to the center of his abdomen, in a well-camouflaged dirty little manipulative move, which he knew was working when she looked at his wrist and then again to in his eyes.

“Just a little?” He nodded "And will you take the medicine without complaining?" He affirmed again.

Hinata closed her eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out again in the form of a long sigh.

She opened her eyes again, now with a look of determination and nodded.

He smiled and brought the meat to her mouth.

“W-wait!” she yelled, holding his wrist.

He was really having a hard time not laugh again.

Without letting go his wrist, she barely opened her mouth and bit into some of the meat, chewing it and stopping after swallowing it.

He looked at her expectantly, watching as she frowned again and sudden tears began to fall from her eyes.

Was it really that bad?

He began to feel guilty for forcing her to do so, but he was surprised when she now took a bigger bite, taking the meat from his hand to grab it herself, saying between sobs

"It's good!" she sniffed and cried harder as she ate more of it.

________________________

That night he woke up because of the pain that attacked his healthy wrist, grunting and looking for the reason for that, and when he looked at it, he was surprised and out of breath to see how a bracelet of branches wrapped him, which would not be a problem if it was not for the fact that they seemed to come straight out of his skin.

________________________

Another few days passed and he had kept thinking a lot about his situation.

Due to his suspicions, he decided to do an experiment.

For a few days he stayed especially close to her, touching her skin with his fingertips in the most subtle way he could, leading him to offer help during the moments when she did her self-imposed tasks that were not really necessary - there was not much to entertain herself with, he supposed — and despite confusion at his sudden need to help, she agreed and directed him what to do, frustrating him when any of those tasks kept him away from her.

But at the end of the day he touched her enough without going overboard - tapping her shoulder to get her attention or patted it awkwardly as he congratulated her with a "good job" - and then he walked away from her and went to the makeshift cot she had created for him, leaving her more confused than at first.

The first night he waited awake for something to happen, for the branches to start coming out or for his skin to turn green, he wasn't entirely sure what could happen, but he waited.

And he received nothing.

He repeated the experiment several more times and nothing happened, so he thought maybe it was a side effect of the last potion she had given him to drink? It would make sense that his body is no longer producing more vegetation by changing the type of medicine she was giving him, and it would also make sense that she did not know that effect as something out of the ordinary, since her own body seemed to produce by itself the plants that dressed her.

Then he forgot the topic, classifying it as a one-time occurrence.

Until he wasn't.

That morning, when he no longer had any kind of ailment and was beginning to feel he was finally regaining his strength, he had helped Munda - who, he learned, was really peaceful when he was not protecting the entrance to that garden - to get rid of the little debris that had stuck to him after his last shedding of skin.

"Good work," Hinata said, patting him on the shoulder as best she could since he was significantly taller than her “Munda's shedding of skin is usually a disaster because it is more resistant than normal, so I always have a hard time cleaning it when it's in season” she revealed, now with her hand fixed on his shoulder “you are very good at that”

He accepted her congratulations with a small hint of pride on her chest.

They passed the day with normally, and at night, while taking a bath in the lake, a sudden pain attacked his shoulder.

When he tried to move his shoulder in circles, he couldn´t, the pain and stiffness prevented him from the slightest movement, then he brought his other hand over said shoulder to try to massage himself, but when he felt his fingers prick, He stopped.

Surprised, he looked at his shoulder and couldn't believe what he saw: it was covered in thorns right where Hinata had touched it.

The fire of anger ignited in him and spread like forest fire, was that it? Her hands? Were her hands causing his body to produce leaves and thorns as if it were a simple plant? Although, now that he thought about it, he had been a fool not to realize it before, after all, she was nothing more than a witch whose hands could grow trees and flowers out of nowhere.

He had been fooled. He had let his guard down and this witch was turning him into another plant in her garden.

Who many more had she done this to?

He looked at the surrounding trees for the hint that any of them were once a man, but he had done his job so well that there was not the slightest trace of a previous humanity in them.

Angry, he left the lake and put on his pants, not caring they were dirty and dusty from the activities he had done that day. He dressed in his armor and took the sword with him, searching for Hinata and finding her, as always, in the center of the small flower-covered hill that surrounded her.

His quick and heavy steps caught his attention, turning and smiling at him when she saw him approaching, but that expression quickly changed when he entered, stepping carelessly on the flowers that she loved so much.

"Sasuk ..!"

"In two days we will leave," he interrupted, placing the sword under her chin and applying enough pressure so the tip dug lightly into her neck, hurting her “I have already lost a lot of valuable time with your stupid games, as of today, I command”

He turned around without giving her the opportunity to speak and went to the farthest part of that garden, where he found what seemed to be the oldest tree of all, the most leafy, where he sat down and pressed his back against it, crossing his arms with his sword still in his hand, quickly creating in his mind all the logistics of what he would do next.

______________________

The desperate neighing of Onyx woke him up.

He hadn't realized when he had fallen asleep, but it seems as if the apocalypse had taken place once he closed his eyes.

He blinked, trying to clear the blurry view of him until everything was terrifyingly sharp.

In front of him, Onyx kept crying, rising on his hind legs and then dropping the front legs in heavy blows, kicking up the dust with each fall.

It was daytime, he could tell, but the whole environment was so bleak that his brain had a hard time understanding it.

He looked around him, all the space that had previously been green and colorful had turned to the darkest gray he had ever seen. The trees shed their leaves at an impressive speed, the same ones that were now on the ground, surrounding him.

He tried to take one, but the blades were so brittle they broke with the simple touch.

"Onix, take it easy" But the horse ignored him; instead, he whinnied louder as if urging him to stop and then ran, leaving him behind.

He walked carefully, looking everywhere: the bushes were dry but still held some of their fruits, of which he took one and put it in his mouth only to spit it out instantly, disgusted by the horrible taste of the previously delicious blackberry had taken. As he walked, a foul stench began to fill his nostrils, aggravating the closer he got to the lake, until he realized that was where it came from. The waters, previously clean and clear, were now as black and thick as tar.

What was happening?

It didn't take long for him to find the cause.

Still on the small hill was Hinata, motionless and with her head bowed, the flowers around her were wilted. Munda surrounded the hill, making a great circle with its whole body, as trying to be a wall of protection for her owner.

The great snake gave him a warning hiss, glaring at him, now with both of its healthy eyes, as if it was challenging him to come closer.

Even with the threat of the reptile, he did, he knew how protective he was, but he had learned that in here Munda was more like a puppy playing at being brave than the gigantic and terrifying snake really was.

Already within the circle of protection of him everything was more horrible, here the flowers were not withered, and instead they seemed burned. Hinata's body remained immobile, not even seemed to breathe, and when he surrounded her and was face to face with her, he was surprised by the horrible state that in just a few hours she had gotten.

Her skin was as gray as the rest of the earth, her previously pink lips were now dangerously close to black, almost all the flowers in her hair and crown had lost their petals and the ones that remained would fall at any moment. Her eyes were open and she kept them that way, without blinking, and the only sign that told him there was still life in her was the trail of tears that fell without stopping.

He crouched in front of her and called out, but he didn't get the slightest bit of recognition from her.

He grabbed her face and winced at the ease of movement he had from her, even if her body seemed stiffer than could be possible.

Then the dark green trail that fell from her throat to her abdomen caught his eye, and he felt as if he had been hit with the strongest metal as he remembered what he had done.

Was this his fault?

"Hinata," he called her, lifting her face so he could look into her eyes, which seemed to be empty. "Hinata, I'm sorry."

But his attempts were in vain because she did not respond or make the slightest movement that indicated she would do it at some point.

Desperation began to fill him and he didn't know what to do, stroking her face and trying to wipe the tears away, but they kept falling and instead, sliding over and around his thumbs, mocking his unsuccessful attempts to stop them.

Then, in a moment of utter despair he did something he had only thought would happen in his dreams, and kissed her.

His lips froze over the cold, chapped of hers, and all ambient sound that he had previously not actively noticed disappeared. He made no move, just stood with his lips joined, praying inside his mind for a reaction, until her lips trembled.

One sob left them, then two, until it was totally a symphony of wailing.

He hugged her and pressed her to his chest, quietly apologizing to her and preferring to hear her cry than remain in the deathly silence of moments ago.

----------------------------

Recovery was slower than he could have imagined. While it took less than one night to produce the disaster, fixing it was a matter of a long time.

She avoided talking to him and he couldn't blame her, not after all that he´d caused.

She was just getting back to her normal color and at the same time so did her garden, slowly returning to the green it was when he had arrived.

He hadn't given her a reason for his action in the first place, and he didn't think he'd do it sometime soon - never, if he could.

He just helped her silently, discovering that when he kissed her, she recovered a little more.

So he kept doing it, morning, afternoon and evening, until the pink on her cheeks appeared and the flowers in her hair began to bloom.

That, however, came at a price, and it didn't take long for him to realize that the mere touch was more powerful than that of her fingers.

It first reflected on his nails, which turned brown and their textures became like that of a tree trunk. Then on his chest, where leaves and thorns came out again.

It was a much faster process than he had thought.

"I think we can leave tomorrow" were the first words she spoke to him after days of silence, smiling shyly at him, speaking in a low voice.

He nodded as best she could, his neck stiff from the changes taking place in him.

That day his feet stuck to the ground, and pulling them off felt as if he had lost a limb.

"Sasuke" Hinata called him the next morning, worried about what she was seeing. "Since when has this been happening?"

He looked at her, but he didn't answer.

He was still lying on his grass cot, trapped by the ivy that had tightly encircled his arms, torso, and legs to keep him in place.

"Wait." The desperation in Hinata's voice was palpable, but he could barely recognize anything.

With her hands, Hinata touched the plants on top of him, but was surprised to see that instead of obeying her and disappearing, they seemed to tighten around Sasuke.

She looked at her hands without understanding what was happening and tried again, her eyes clouding over as she obtained the same result as the first time.

The tears left her eyes and the sobs soon appeared the more she tried and failed, becoming more energetic and miserable with every second more.

"Hinata," he called out, barely a hoarse whisper as he felt a new plant grow from his stomach and slide its roots through his esophagus, slowly exiting his mouth "There is no time for me…”

“Do not!" She shouted shakily" Don't say that!”

“S. Save them ... my people ...” he said, barely breathing.

"I-I will, but-but first ..." A sob interrupted her "you first..."

Sasuke wanted to deny, but he had neither the strength nor the mobility to do so.

"There ... there is ... no time for ... me" he repeated.

“Sasuke”

“Please”

Without finding the words to answer him, she just nodded.

Sasuke smiled and looked at her, grateful as a single tear slid down the side of his face as more roots came out of his mouth.

"Thank you" he said, his voice cracking, closing his eyes, "I lo ..."

But he couldn't finish his sentence, losing the last breath he had and finally letting the roots slide out of his mouth and dig into the ground beneath him.

A heartrending scream came from Hinata's mouth, the loss, for the first time in hundreds of years, completely ripping her apart.

She cried over his body, feeling a pain much worse than that of a few days ago completely invade her, feeling again how she was fainting rapidly.

But she still had one last promise to keep.

Unwilling to leave him, Hinata placed both hands on the ground and gathered all of her strength, screaming as she transferred her power beyond the forest, filling all around with the life that he had come looking for.

The earth shook and great thorny walls rose above all of her garden, joining in the center without closing completely, and leaving a small gap through which the sunlight entered.

Exhausted, she walked to where Sasuke's body lay covered in roots and she dropped down beside him, placing a hand on his chest, slowly closing her eyes and melting into him.

------------------------

From the highest tower of the Uchiha castle, the cries of the courtesans invaded the room of King Itachi, whose body was covered by a white sheet as his court surrounded him.

"You did it, my king," Kakashi whispered, watching from the window as the kingdom began to fill with the vivid green of the growing plants and the colorful buds of flowers and fruit that followed them, though his attention was really fixed on the large bud that it had formed in the farthest part of the forest.

While, at the gates of the kingdom, Onyx the steed without his king arrived.

@sasuhinamonth

[aka-indulgence]

Feliz Naga-dad

Hello AKA! :3

So, after I saw the post with the snake climbing the tree and read your tags, I was inspiried to write a Naga Sans x Reader one-shot based on your idea. I then added a little Christmas spin to it for the holidays. I hope you enjoy my little Christmas gift to you, and thank you so much for all the amazing content you make throughout the year!

Merry Christmas! - Cal

__________________________________________________

You could still hear them.

The shrill laugh of your aunt who may or may not have had too much eggnog. Your mom’s sweet but stern voice calling your dad to come help her in the kitchen. Your tiny cousin’s squealing as one races to catch the other. Even the blaring Christmas music is audible through the house’s thin suburban walls. Sure it’s muffled, but as much as the wind tries to drown the merriment out with it’s howling, you could still hear it clearly from your old tire swing. You felt as if you were inside with them.

But you aren't.

No. You were outside, in the dim moonlight, in your parent’s backyard, alone. Why? Because you felt better being alone outside with just you and the moon, than alone inside with your parents and relatives. Not that you hated your family or Christmas or anything like that. You just . . . didn’t feel as happy as the rest of them. You didn’t have the same “holiday spirit”. So feeling left out and guilty for not having fun like everyone else, you slipped outside for some fresh air and silence.

Only the air isn’t fresh or silent. The low babble of noise is a constant reminder of what you’re missing out on, and the bitter wind makes you feel as cold and empty as you do within. Tightening your grip on your childhood swing, you rock back and forth, grazing your feet against the ground. You stare blankly at the forest beyond the old fence a few feet away, wallowing in your self-inflicted misery.

There isn't even any snow.

It always snowed in time for Christmas. But tonight is Christmas eve and there’s not so much as a flurry. In fact, it had been unusually warm right up until a week ago. Then all of the cold that this area had expected since October suddenly poured over the mountain peaks surrounding it. But still, not a single snowfall. Logically you know it’s because of abnormal weather patterns and such, but you feel the real reason is because even the snow knows that this Christmas is different.

It's different because this is your first Christmas coming home from university. Having arrived just yesterday, you had missed doing so much. You’d missed helping your mom with the community cookie drive. You’d missed decorating the tree and drinking eggnog with dad. You’d missed watching your little cousin’s school pageant. And instead of spending tonight watching your favorite Christmas movies until 1 a.m, your mom decided to host a family party since you’re in town, effectively ruining the last Christmas tradition you hadn’t missed.

You sniffled, barely able to feel the tears streaming down your numb cheeks.

You know you should be inside enjoying the holiday with the people you love . . . but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Not when it all felt so wrong- so unlike Christmas. You wish you could feel happy like them. You wish Christmas had stayed the same and nothing had changed. You wish you weren’t crying outside in the cold darkness, freezing your bare fingers off, and spending your Christmas eve feeling so utterly alone-

CRACK

You jolt in your seat. Blinking back to reality, you squint in the direction of the sound. That direction being directly in front of you. You wonder if maybe it was just a blustery wind snapping a dead branch. But as you look, you think you see one of the bushes jostling like it was being tugged at by an animal. It could be a neighbor’s dog or cat that got stuck, or maybe a woodland creature from the nearby mountain. In case it was the former, you stiffly stood up and walked a few steps toward it. 

“Hello?” you call out softly. You don’t expect a response, but you hope if it really is an animal, that it would react to your voice. 

Nothing.

You wait a few more seconds, staring hard at the bush, when you finally spot the creature. At least, you think that’s an animal you’re looking at. You can’t see it’s silhouette, but you can make out two white dots. Probably the moon reflecting off the dark pupils of a lost puppy or a scared doe. You ignore how intensely they stare back and smile at it, hunching over so that you wouldn’t frighten it away.

“Hey . . . it’s okay. Come‘ere. I won’t hurt you, I promise,” you say, holding out your hand.

If it’s a deer, then your approach will probably frighten it away, but if it’s a dog like you hope, then your calm voice and outstretched hand should be enough to coax it to come to you.  

But the creature doesn’t move toward either the forest or you. It just keeps staring. It was so still that you wonder if it’s just the moonlight tricking your eyes. But you wouldn’t give up yet. Maybe it really was stuck inside the bush somehow. If so, you had to help it- otherwise it’ll freeze to death in this cold.

Taking another step forward, you try again.

“Are you stuck? Just hang on and I’ll . . . help . . . y-you . . .”

You falter as the two white dots slowly rise into the air, never breaking eye contact with you. You stand up straight, but the dots keep going higher, forcing you to tilt your head up to look at it. It slipped from out of the shadows and stood underneath the pale light, letting you see what kind of creature stood before you.

It was a skeleton.

It towered over the fence, over you. The bones of its body looked thicker than any human skeleton you’d seen and it’s large head was rounder too. It’s teeth glistened as it smiled at you, but the smile felt fake and not-so-friendly. And the white dots staring at you weren’t reflecting off it’s eyes- they were its eyes. At least, they seemed to function like pupils within it’s hollow sockets. They stared right through you.

Your own eyes widen with terror as you slowly stumble backwards. Your brain wasn’t convinced the skeleton was real, but your gut told you that it was and your body acted accordingly, trying to put as much distance between you and the threat. It occurs to you to scream for help, but your voice is stuck in your throat. With a thud, your back hits the tree behind you, stopping your steady retreat.

The entire time the skeleton stayed still. It’s gaze never left yours, but it hadn’t reacted to you since it moved. You felt a small spark of hope. Maybe it wasn’t going to harm you? Maybe it's just curious? But even if that's true, you didn’t want to spend another moment outside with it. Sprinting the twenty feet to the house was your safest bet, but also your biggest gamble. That left you with only one other choice: your old, dilapidated tree house.

Maneuvering your hands behind you, you felt the wooden blocks that made up the ladder to the fort above. They were nailed into the tree itself, so they would be able to support your weight, right? You’re pretty thin as it is. And while the tree house isn't the best escape route, it is the closest. You remain rooted to the spot with indecision, your shallows breaths creating a barely visible vapour in the air.

The crackling of leaves and twigs break the tense silence as the skeleton starts moving towards you. 

Instantly you spin around and start climbing. The bark catches on your coat and the splintering wood scratches up your hands, but you don’t care. You’re just desperate to get away from the creature. Even if it isn’t real and you aren’t in any danger, you are driven by pure fear now. Fortunately or unfortunately the tree house isn't that high and you reach the top in a matter of seconds. Pulling yourself up through the hole above you and onto the creaky floor, you sit on your knees and pant heavily. 

You made it.

But as safe as you feel in the darkness of your old tree house, you know you aren’t truly safe. Not yet. The skeleton is still down there, and it knows where you are.  ̶Y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶s̶c̶r̶e̶w̶e̶d̶.̶  As much as you want to curl up and close your eyes in the vain hope that doing so would make it go away, you have to check. You have to make sure it’s gone. So lying flat on your stomach, you grip the edge of the opening and peer down.

You gasp sharply.

The skeleton is still down there alright. It stands directly below you, looking up with its unblinking stare. But that isn’t why you gasped. The reason for your shock started at its hips and extended far beyond, looping several times around the base of the tree. A tail. It's massive- much wider than you and covered in glimmering blue scales that seemed to dip in between shades when it moved. 

It was the snake from the mountain.

The one you grew up hearing rumors about. A giant snake monster that no one had seen, but somehow everyone knew existed. The one that was always blamed for the disappearance of daring hikers who never returned. The one you thought about as a kid when looking at the mountain through your bedroom window. The skeleton half is a surprise, but you know without a doubt that this is the snake.

You feel a chill colder than the wintery air shiver through your entire body.  

Why is it in town? It had never come this close before, and you have lived your entire short life here and you're gonna die here too. Maybe hunger drove it to seek food outside its territory? If so, you were the perfect snack for it, just sitting all alone in the cold night. Then in a blind panic, you’d trapped yourself in your small, defenseless tree house, allowing it to easily climb up and eat you. You feel your throat tighten.

Please don’t come up here. Please don’t come up here. Please. Just leave. Don’t climb up here, please. Please!

Finally, the monster breaks eye contact with you and looks at the tree.

Please . . . please just leave. Please go away!

It slowly moves around to the other side of the trunk and out of your line of sight. Your breathing quickens.

Yes! Yes, that’s it! Leave. Go back home and-

The monster suddenly slithered back into view, only this time it was higher. 

It stares up at you, locking you in place with it’s gaze as it grips the tree with its boney hands. Meanwhile its tail circles the tree, loop after loop, until all of it is tightly secured around the trunk. Then its skeleton half moved again, before disappearing and reappearing a moment later, now much higher than before- at least half way up the tree.

It was climbing.

You want to scream. You want your parents, your family, anybody, to come rushing outside and save you. But you can’t scream. You can’t even look away as the monster continues to climb higher and higher, its snake tail slowly coiling around the trunk one loop at a time. 

It was kinda . . . mesmerizing to watch.

In fact, if you didn't feel so horrified by the reality that every time his  tail looped higher up the tree, you were another second closer to your inevitable death, you’d be intrigued by the sight. You can’t help it. You’ve always been fascinated with snakes ever since you were young enough to beg for a pet one. It’s probably why you were so curious about the snake-monster as a child. Now that curiosity is literally about to kill you.  

The skeleton half disappears around the tree again, breaking you out of your hypnotic stupor. When it comes back, it’s so close that if you reached out, you could easily touch its skull. The thought sends you scrambling away from the hole. You toss the debris aside and huddle into one of the corners, hugging your knees to your chest. You take one last look at the opening before squeezing your eyes shut. You’re too scared to cry.

This is it.

This is how you will die. At the hands of a creature that up until two minutes ago you didn’t believe really existed. On Christmas Eve. Alone. And it’s all your fault. If only you’d stayed indoors and tried to enjoy the party, instead of stupidly hosting your own little pity-party outside, then your parents wouldn’t have lost their only child on Christmas. You wish you could see them one last time and tell them goodbye, and that you’re sorry you-

“hello.”   

Your eyes fly open and flit over to where you heard the deep, whispery voice. Your heart skips a beat as you see the skeleton in the opening. Its hands grasp the edge of the floor while its skull and shoulders protrude out into the room, blocking almost all light from below. But you don’t need light to see its two burning, white eyes staring at you with the same intensity as before. Only now, the bone above its sockets is slightly furrowed like actual eyebrows.

��what’ssss wrong?”

You gawk at the skeleton-snake monster.

It can talk!?

It . . or he (at least, it sounds like a he) is not only sentient, but can actually communicate with you? With english words? Of course, him being not only a snake-skeleton monster, but a talking snake-skeleton monster isn't the craziest part of your situation. But why is he talking? Why hasn’t he just eaten you already? Why is he just staring and . . . and . . .

 . . . did he just ask what’s wrong?

You blink, realise you haven’t answered him, and fumble for a response. But words keep slipping past your tongue like a wet bar of soap. How are you even supposed to respond to a question like that!? “Oh, nothing’s wrong Mr. Snake-skeleton, except for the fact that you climbed up here to eat me.” Yeah, that'd go over real swell. Your frazzled mind settles for your automatic response to that question.

“N-nothing’s wr-wrong. I-I’m fine,” you croak.

The skeleton’s eyebrows(?) furrow even more and while he’s still smiling, it feels more like a frown.

Oops. Wrong answer.

“tearssss. why?” he hisses, pointing to his cheek.

You lift your fingertips to your face. It’s still damp from earlier. 

He saw you cry? How long had he been there watching you?

As disturbing as that question is, you’re more focused on the monster’s question. More specifically, the way he said it. He sounded curious  ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶k̶i̶n̶d̶a̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶c̶e̶r̶n̶e̶d̶?̶  Maybe . . . maybe he isn’t here to eat you. Maybe if you satisfy his curiosity, he’ll go away? It couldn’t hurt to try. Licking your dry lips, you give him the truth.    

“I, uh . . I cried b-because I was sad. My . . my family, they’re having f-fun without me, and- and I felt left out and alone . . so I came outside to cry.”

It sounds really stupid now that you say it outloud. Like something an angsty teen instead of a mentally-developed adult would do. You should have told him something more believable- like you had injured yourself. But you’re too overwhelmed trying to process what’s happening to think up a lie. 

Fortunately for you, the monster appears to believe you, as his expression changes from  ̶c̶o̶n̶c̶e̶r̶n̶  curiosity to a look of . . . understanding? It’s too dark to tell for certain, but you swear you see his eye, uh, lights, soften for a moment. Maybe it’s just your desperation to live, but he looks less like he’s about to eat you the longer you stare at him.  

“want to sssstay alone?”

You rub your wet nose on your coat sleeve and look away.

“N-no, I don’t really wanna be alone, but I . . . I d-don’t want to make them feel bad, with me being down ‘n all. It’s better if I just stay out here.”

It’s silent for a few moments. You fiddle with your coat sleeve, hoping your answers were enough to get the monster to leave. But he doesn’t move. You rack your brain for something to say but the skeleton speaks first.

“can i ssssstay?”

You stare at him in disbelief.

Did this ginormous, man-eating monster just ask if he could stay with you?

He was 3 times your size. He could break your neck with just two of his fingers. You have no way of stopping him from killing you, much less to stop him from getting inside the tree house. Yet here he is, asking you permission? You eye him suspiciously and wonder if this was some kind of trick- like how vampires can’t enter a house without being invited in. You choose your next words carefully.

“You . . . you just wanna come in here and . . . sit with me? That’s it? You’re not gonna- kill me and swallow me whole -do anything else?” 

The skeleton nods affirmatively. 

It’s so deliberate and solemn, that even though you have no reason to, you believe him. You believe that, for whatever odd and bizarre reason, this sentient snake-skeleton monster just wants to sit with you in your decaying old tree house. 

You should say no. You should take your chance and tell him to leave. Even if he comes in anyway, at least you tried. You have nothing to lose.  

“. . .  o-okay.”

Maybe it’s your own curiosity, or your desire to not be completely alone on Christmas eve. Or maybe you just have a death wish. Regardless of whatever forced that one little word past your blue lips, there’s no going back now. You curl your knees tighter to your chest and watch the monster with bated breath.

Like his nod, he’s slow and deliberate as he heaves the rest of his skeleton half through the opening. How he’s able to fit his broad skeleton shoulders through that square hole is a mystery. Your eyes follow him as he drags his way over to the opposite corner. He sitatues himself, placing his hands-claws-in his ‘lap’ and bending his head over despite it still touching the wooden ceiling. 

You look over at the opening just as his tail starts to slither in. It spills into the tiny tree house like a tube of toothpaste being squeezed. Only instead of toothpaste, it’s thick coils of shining- no, glowing blue scales. You couldn’t tell before in the moonlight, but in the near darkness of the tree house, you see that the tail itself is glowing and pulsating with a soft azure light. It’s hypnotising to look at, and you feel somewhat disappointed when the tip of the tail finally emerges and settles a few inches away from you. 

He’s completely inside now- his enormous tail piling on top of itself in the cramped tree house. You push down your panic as you see that your only escape route is now blocked by his appendage. Despite  feeling somewhat claustrophobic and suffocated, you do your best to ignore them and direct your focus to the skeleton.

Just like he said, he’s not . . . doing anything. He’s just sitting and staring at you. He doesn’t even look like he’s breathing. His unwavering stare pierces through you in the darkness, making you feel a bit uncomfortable. Still, he’s not crushing your windpipes and devouring you, so you suppose you’re alright for now.

Yeah . . . you’re fine.

This is fine.

This is . . . .

. . . . awkward.

You glance down at the floor. Should you say something? The monster knows english, but he doesn't seem like much of a conversationalist. What do you even say to a snake-skeleton-monster  ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶w̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶e̶n̶d̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶C̶h̶r̶i̶s̶t̶m̶a̶s̶ ̶d̶i̶n̶n̶e̶r̶? Small talk seems kinda pointless. Maybe you could ask if he is-

“cold?”

Your eyes snap back to the monster, only to see he’s no longer looking at your face, but at your hands. They’re trembling. Whether from fear-shot nerves or the cold, you’re not sure. But you are cold if the quiet chatter of your teeth is anything to go by. You glance sheepishly up at the skeleton and nod.

He pats the only space left in the room between your feet and his skeletal body.

“ssssssit.”

Your body tenses up, but the softness in his voice makes you feel as though he doesn’t have any bad intentions. And it’s not like moving out your corner is putting yourself in more danger than you’re already in. After a second or two, curiosity overcomes your caution and you scoot the few inches over to the spot.

Immediately, his tail begins to move. You freeze as fear shoots through you like electricity, leaving you to helplessly watch as his appendage circles around you. It loops twice around your legs before coiling up to your waist. It finally stops with the tip resting in your lap. You wait for it to squeeze you, but it doesn’t. It’s not even that restricting- feeling more like a weighted blanket tucked around you than the deadly grip of a predator trapping its prey.

You gently lower your hands onto his tail, a little bit excited to finally feel his scales. To your surprise, they’re soft and squishy and warm. Like, really warm. The heat radiating from his tail not only seeps into your numb fingers, but your entire body. And is it just your eyes getting used to the dark, or is his tail glowing even brighter all of a sudden? You look up at the skeleton to see him genuinely smiling.

“warm?”

Your eyes widen a bit. He’s attempting to warm you up with his tail! You’re not sure how, since snakes are supposed to be cold-blooded, but you chalk it up to him being a snake-skeleton monster. But as fascinated as you are by this display of his unique biology, you’re more touched by the gesture itself. You let yourself relax and smile back.

“Y-yes, I’m much warmer now, thank you, um . . .”

You falter, realising you don’t know his name. Does he even have one? You decide you could at least give him yours.

“. . I’m (y/n), by the way.”

The lids of his sockets droop, leaving you baffled at how that even works.

“ssssssans. sssssans the sssssskeleton.”

You giggle. You can’t help it. Not only is it a weird name, but he chooses to introduce himself as a skeleton, when at the same time he hisses his ‘s’ like a snake. It just caught you off guard. 

“what’ssss sssso funny?”

You stop laughing and cough.

“N-nothing. I just . . . t-this has been a really strange Christmas, that’s all,” you lie, not wanting to insult him for laughing at him.

Sans tilts his skull to the side.

“chrisssstmassss?”

“Y-yeah, Christmas. It’s um, it’s a holiday we humans celebrate. Family and friends get together and exchange gifts in the morning, bake cookies, watch Christmas movies, sing carols, and do lots of other fun stuff,” you explain, hoping you don’t sound condescending. 

“carolssss?”

“That’s just a word for Christmas songs. People a long time ago used to stand outside and sing them together and that’s called ‘caroling’. But it’s not very popular to do that anymore. Although . . .”

You trail off, a smile growing on your face as a favorite memory of yours surfaces in your mind. 

“. . . when I was a kid, I loved the idea of caroling and wanted to do it, but none of my friends would go with me. So it ended up just being me and my dad. We went to every house on the street and I would go up and sing to them. I only knew two songs by heart and I wasn’t very good at singing. My poor dad had to listen to me squeakily sing the same songs over and over for an hour to our neighbors. But my dad wasn't mortified. He was actually proud of me for spreading Christmas cheer and said that we could do it again next Christmas. So we did, on every single Christmas eve after that. I think we did it until I turned 16. That’s when we started watching Christmas movies instead.”

You finish your story, forgetting all about Sans as you reminisce over your past Christmases. You realise just how much they’ve changed as you’ve grown up. How the old traditions were switched out for new, more age-appropriate ones as the years passed. The changes never made your Christmas any less like a Christmas, just a different kind  . . . of . . . one . . . 

“can you sssssing?” 

His gentle hiss jolts you back to the present.

“Oh . . . u-um . . . you want me to sing a Christmas song for you?”

Sans nods, his fuzzy white lights expanding ever so slightly.

“Uh, okay. Um, let’s see . . .”

You absent-mindedly pick at one of his pliable scales as you try to think of a song you know all the words to. A few come to mind, but “Grandma got run over by a reindeer” doesn't feel very fitting at the moment. Your mind drifts back to your caroling days and you remember singing “Carol of the bells”. You still know all the words to that, right? Probably.

Clearing your throat, you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away, Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold . . .”

Your voice is a bit scratchy at first, but it smoothes out as you continue. Even though you’re singing softly, your voice still sounds loud in the still darkness. You feel self-conscious at first, but that quickly wears off. After all, you’ve sung in front of complete strangers before. If you ignore the fact that this particular stranger is a 20 foot snake monster, then it’s not so different. Actually, you’re quite enjoying yourself. Singing always makes you happy, and as you sit comfortably in the warm coils of this gentle beast, you feel your mood improving. 

“. . .merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas . . .”

Your voice fades as you finish singing and the silence returns, feeling even emptier now. You look up at Sans to see his reaction and it’s . . . not what you expected. His eye-socket lids are even lower than before and the white lights in his eyes are the brightest you’ve seen yet. And his smile- it looks so affectionate. You think you see a blue-colored blush on his cheeks, but that could just be the glow from his scales reflecting off his face.

“pretty,” he hums fondly. 

Your cheeks suddenly feel warm, and it’s not from the heat his tail is radiating.

“Thank you,” you mumble bashfully. “I . . . it’s my favorite Christmas song. Do you like it? T-the song, I mean?” 

“yesssss.” He says, but those eyes tell you he’s not talking about the song. 

Sans suddenly raises one of his hands toward your face. Plucking a few strands of wind-blown hair from behind your ear, he runs his boney fingers across it. He’s caressing it so gently that you barely feel anything.

Weirdly enough, you don't feel scared or nervous. Mostly just confused and . . . oddly touched? Against your better judgment, you’re starting to like Sans. He acts more like a curious, docile cat that just wants some company than a fearsome, blood-thirsty predator. He even seemed to like  ̶y̶o̶u̶  your singing.

Your hands move on their own and grab his, pulling it into your lap. It dwarfs both your hands and the bone feels unnatural to touch, but you can feel a faint warmth coming from it. You feel like one of those people in cat videos who hold their cat's paw. It could scratch you, but you trust it won’t. And it doesn’t. 

The skeleton continues smiling at you, and you smile back- this time sincerely. 

“Sans . . . do you-”

  SLAM

  You jump at the sound and stop speaking, letting go of his hand. Your head swivels towards the wall closest to the house and you hold your breath, as if you are afraid of getting caught. Then out of the darkness, you hear your mother’s muffled voice calling for you. 

“(y/n)! (y/n), it’s time for dinner! . . . (y/n)!”

You don’t answer her. You’re not sure why. You could scream now and get rescued by your family. But you don’t need rescuing anymore. So you  stay silent and listen. 

After a moment, you hear the backdoor slam a second time. Now the only thing you hear is your own heavy breathing. You turn back to Sans. The white lights are thin pricks now. They shift their focus from the wall you looked at back to your face. His smile is tight and sharp, giving you the impression he’s on edge. You gently rub his tail, hoping to put him at ease.

“Sorry Sans, but . . . I have to leave now. I uh . . . I need to eat.”

Sans doesn’t respond, his eyelights still razor thin. Instead, you feel his tail squeeze ever so slightly. Not enough to restrict your breathing or anything, but enough to make your heart rate pick up. He . .  he isn’t going to make you stay, is he? He’d let you go if you asked him to, right? 

You swallow thickly and try to keep your smile from faltering.

“Sans . . . I need to go. P-please let go of me now.”

For a second, he doesn’t react. Then he blinks, slowly, and lets out a hiss-y sigh. When he opens his eyes again, the lights are round and fuzzy again. His tail starts to move away until the hole in the floor is exposed, the light from below now pouring in. You let out a quiet sigh of relief at the sight. 

You wait for his tail to start uncoiling itself from around you, only for it to suddenly tighten and travel past your waist and up under your arms. You grip the tail now on your chest, too lost in your confusion to panic. It then picks you and drags you toward the hole. You look frantically to Sans for some explanation, but he just keeps smiling, not at all bothered by your distress. 

The floor suddenly gives out and your legs fall through. You whimper and shut your eyes, expecting to drop the 15 feet to the ground. But you don’t, thanks to Sans’ secure grip on your upper body. You keep your eyes closed until your dangling legs land on solid earth. As you stand, his warm tail slithers up and over you, the tip lingering just a second within your hair. Now that it’s gone, you feel cold again and shiver.

Looking up, you see Sans looking down at you, his blue glow outlining the silhouette of his skull. He’s smiling his neutral perma smile, but his eyelights still look softly at you. You grin and lift a hand to wave goodbye.

“Thanks for keeping me company Sans. I feel much better now. Take care and Merry Christmas!”

He doesn’t say anything back. He doesn’t even wave. Oh well, it’s fine. You're used to his lack of a reaction. You give him one more warm smile before turning on your heels and trudging toward the house. 

Just a few minutes ago, you were ready to run for your life in this direction, but now you don’t even bother to look behind you. And while you’re eager to spend the rest of your night enjoying Christmas with your family, you can’t help but feel a little sad that you have to leave Sans. You’ve just made friends with the snake of the mountain, who as it turns out, is more than just a hungry beast people painted him out to be. And while you don’t live in this area anymore, you hope you can see him again next time you visit.

You stop with your hand on the door knob and turn to look back at the tree house. 

“Until next Christmas, Sans.”

-------

Submitted by @calcium-cat

aWWWWWWW OH WOW THIS WAS SO SWEET AND WARM AND NICE,,, ;A;;;

AWW,, Im,, so happy! Sorry it took long to reading this since Im a little busy but!!! Gah,, this is so sweet... I love it, he just looks scary but he's so gentle... aa,, I wonder how long Sans knew you...and wish you'd have more time with him ahu,,,

Thank you so much for this Cal, it's such a wonderful gift ;w;; Im late but I hope you had a Merry Christmas and have a nice holiday!! ♡♡♡

[thatboomerkid]

SpellJammer: Shadow of the Spider Moon (Additional Campaign Materials)

part of the Player’s Packet (ver 1.3)

for use with the First Edition Pathfinder Role-Playing Game

by Clinton J. Boomer

with special thanks to Andy Collins, Scott Schomburg, Chloe Michelle, Dennis Detwiller, David Gerrold,and George Loki Williams

additional campaign materials may be found here

All SpellJammer: Shadow of the Spider-Moon campaign materials are brought to you absolutely free to play, to test & to share, as always, now and forever, by the fine folks of my Patreon.

RELIGION ACROSS PYRESPACE

Yondalla and Her Saints: The Hin – and, by extension, all those they conquer – practice a monotheistic faith, worshiping a single bountiful earth-mother-deity, Yondalla, alongside an astonishing number of her Saints; the Church also recognizes the power of Asmodeus, King of Hell and Master of Devils, who is commanded by Yondalla to punish the wicked.

Technically, Asmodeus and his Seven Devil Princes – Dispater, the Iron King; Mammon, the Spirit in Gold; Belial, the Pale Kiss; Geryon, the Serpent; Moloch, the Ashen Bull; Baalzebul, Lord of the Flies; and Mephistopheles, the Merchant of Souls – are all Saints of the Church.

The Ordo Repentia Infernalis serves as the “secret” inquisitorial arm of the Church: dedicated to the tracking & execution of heretics, especially (but not limited to) worshippers of Dagon.

Many of the other Saints recognized by the Church of Yondalla are, in point of fact, actually deities once worshiped by various (now conquered) human cultures, deemed inoffensive enough to be folded into Mother Church as “blessed of Yondalla, beautified in her holy light”.

Direct worship of these Saints is illegal (a form of idolatry), but observation of a Saint’s holy day — in accordance with Church Law — is encouraged. In some of the more culturally relaxed parts of Cyrrolaelee, for example, prayers to Saint Fharlanghn are as common as prayers to Yondalla.

Other Saints, such as St. Davian, are near-mythologized historical figures.

---

Corellon and Lolth: To be clear, “worship” is a strong word.

That said, the elves of Perianth venerate quite deeply the honored, immortal founders of their august race, seeking the guidance and blessing – in equal measure – of their Emperor and Empress in all things.

The Western Courts identify Corellon as a sun-deity (the Phoenix Emperor) and Lolth as a moon-goddess (the Beautiful Eclipse), while the Eastern Courts refer to Corellon as a lunar deity (the Moonlit Dragon) and Lolth as a sun-goddess (the Crimson Empress).

No matter the court, Corellon is regarded as master over the wild Seelie, while Lolth is understood to be mistress over the demonic Unseelie.

---

Dagon: The single unifying, founding principle of the Ordo Repentia Infernalis is to seek-out the extermination of Dagon, the Shadow in the Sea, false god who sleeps beneath the waves, and of all who bow in fealty to him. 

Of his horrid church, little enough needs be known: wicked dreams born of his thrashing nightmares in the black Abyss at the bottom of the world corrupt men to heresy, blasphemy, cannibalism, witchcraft, transmutation into horrid monstrosities of the deep, and human sacrifice.

The Court of Dagon

Although the vast, dark Shadow in the Sea is commonly understood to act, moment to moment, as the simplest and most ravenous of oceanic beasts -- an unthinking, thrashing monster of pure bloodthirsty instinct and hatred -- the Church of Yondalla identifies seven wicked spirits that serve him: dancing about his throne, attending to his every whim.

Shax, Demon Lord of Envy & Murder

Xoveron, Demon Lord Gluttony & Ruin

Areshkagal, Demon Lord of Greed & Riddles

Nocticula, Demon Lord of Lust & Beauty

Socothbenoth, Demon Lord of Pride & Perversity

Jubliex, Demon Lord of Sloth & Filth

Orcus, Demon Lord of Wrath & the Dead

The Inquisition makes special effort to watch the gargoyles under their care and in their service, as the race was known -- in ancient days -- to serve the demon Xoveron; many clergy members require that gargoyles under their command remain upon a strict diet, so as not to temp the spirit of gluttony.

---

Vasalissa the Beautiful: So little of “original” gnomish culture survives to the modern era – in the wake of countless cataclysms – that no unifying “faith” can be said to unite the diaspora of what was once the Circle of Gold.

That said, gnomes and warforged light candles and whisper quiet prayers to Vasalissa the Beautiful: a clever, tenacious protagonist who appears again and again across the deep storytelling tradition of the gnomish people: a sprawling, multilayered weave of tales that stretch back to the time of their world’s pre-history, the memorization of which borders on the spiritual.

Common tales in the canon – upon which every TRUE storyteller is expected to add his or her own unique twists – often deal with the trials, misadventures, and misfortunes of Vasalissa and a few other stock characters:

Mother Kindness (also called ‘Grandmother Kindness’)

The Child Dreamer

Greedy Glitterpot & Lumpy Fathead

The Hungry Baby

Elder Tree

The Honest Youth (sometimes ‘The Two Honest Youths’)

The Farmer’s Wife

Mocho & Pocho (one of whom is always hungry, and the other of which is always sleepy)

Cleverest Jack (sometimes with his twin brother, Mister Hubris)

The River Serpent

The First-Forged, and his three children: Stone, Wood, and Tin

Mean-Old-Two-Heads, the Giant

The Silent Wolf

Curiously, the natives of Fenris tell fantastic tales, in their own languages, nearly identical to the ancient legends of Vasalissa and her many adventures.

---

Cult of the Dragon Moons: As far as the Chirch of Yondalla is concerned, this organization is merely a group of deluded Dagon-worshipers seduced into a bizarre heresy obsessed with returning-to-life the ancient “dragons” that are said to have once ruled Pyrespace. 

This bizarre faith is known – and possibly native – to every world in the system, but is most prevalent in the jungles of Verdura and across the dunes of Ashen.

---

Moradin: The dwarves do not speak often of their religion, but keep it close to heart: burning, eternally, in a fortress of stone buried beneath their breast.

———

PYRESPACE TIMELINE

This timeline is based on the Yondallan calendar, which dates events to before and after the defeat of the giant Gol’Kaa by St. Davian (‘Ano Davia’ or the Year of Davian) and the subsequent rise of the Hin as the dominant form of life on Quelya.  

Although years, months and even days are difficult to translate between planetary bodies, this single system is still the most frequently used: the current official time and date are tracked at the Great Clockhouse of Lagas, maintained by the Church of Yondalla, and backed-up in the nation-city of Beshaba.

The average occupant of the system does NOT know most of these dates nor the majority of the  information presented here, with perhaps the exception of bolded items; these more-detailed notes are included simply for player reference, especially for the benefit of characters with an education in system-wide history.

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???? – the mysterious Precursors reign undisputed over the entirety of Pyrespace, preforming such impossible miracles as seeding humans across the system, uplifting the Crown of Sapphire to serve as a miniature star, crafting the Hole in the Infinite (a wormhole in orbit around the Crown of Sapphire), crafting the Celestial Pearl (for reasons unknown), establishing a number of now-fallen megastructures (cities, temples, and more esoteric objects) on every known world, and – according to several ancient records – the establishment of a now-vanished interplanetary “web-way”.

-1500 A.D. (approximate): The eastern and western courts of the elves unite beneath a single banner; the elven empire is established on Perianth under the immortal guidance of Corellon Larethian and his bride Lolth.

-1500 A.D. (approximate): The dwarven clans of Moradin’s Forge cease open hostilities with one another, establishing an uneasy truce in the face of heightened goblin aggression.

-1500 A.D. (approximate): On the Circle of Gold, conflicts between gnomes and ratfolk enclaves escalate into the First Rat-Slaughter; first generation warforged created; in the wake of their victory, gnomes begin experimentations in the craft of clockwork and establish significantly larger cities.

-1099 A.D.: Unexpected disaster strikes the gnome home-world, destroying much of their culture’s history and technological progress.

-807 A.D.: The five elven noble houses serving beneath House Larethian are founded in full.

-787 A.D.: Unexpected disaster strikes the gnome home-world, destroying much of the culture’s history and technological progress.

-391 A.D.: Unexpected disaster strikes the gnome home-world, destroying much of the culture’s history and technological progress.

-218 A.D.: The nation of Kozah-Talos (a human nation controlling much of what would later become Brandobaris) finish their conquest over the human nations of Malar and Umberlee (which occupied what would later become Arvoreen), uniting the majority of Quelya’s sole continent under a single war-banner: leaving only the human nation of Auril and the wild deserts surrounding the City of Beshaba outside of their control.

-205 A.D.: A diplomatic accord is reached; the nations of Kozah-Talos and Auril unite to form the modern nation of Brandobaris; distant ports and holdings of Old Auril – including the “Cities of Sisterhood,” Shar and Selune – secede, declaring themselves independent (as the Isles of Tymora).

-197 A.D.: Arvoreen established as single nation under Brandobarin control; Arvorean land used as a “training ground” for Brandobarin officers and a proving-ground for both troops and tactics for use in wars against Cyrrollalee, Urogolan, and the Isles of Tymora.

-101 A.D.: House Larethian defeats a great enemy, further uniting the noble elven houses.

-17 A.D: The lands of Arvoreen are fully pacified under Brandobarin control.

0 A.D.: St. Davian defeats the giant Gol’Kaa, the last human king of Beshaba, in single combat; he and his armies establish the greater Church of Yondalla across the surrounding lands, extending into Arvoreen.

13 A.D.: Unexpected disaster strikes the gnome home-world, destroying much of the culture’s history and technological progress.

92 A.D.: Brandobarin aggression against Cyrrollalee abandoned.

138 A.D: Brandobarin aggression against Urogolan abandoned.

211 A.D.: The nation of Brandobaris unofficially cedes control of Arvorean land to the rule of local warlords (and to the expanding Church of Yondalla).

327 A.D.: The Church of Yondalla controls the entirety of the Rio Provendor from Beshaba all the way south to the World Ocean; the port-city of Lagas is founded at the mouth of the massive river (on Arvorean lands).

354 A.D.: The last human king of Arvoreen abdicates his throne in the face of famine, riots, and threats of civil war; the Church of Yondalla declares Lagas the new capital city of Arvoreen and rapidly puts an end to the uprising, ensuring lasting peace and Hin dominance of the nation.

371 A.D.: Unexpected disaster strikes the gnome home-world, destroying much of the culture’s history and technological progress.

459 A.D.: War breaks out along the Rio Provendor between the Hin-controlled nation of Arvoreen and human-controlled Brandobaris.

522 A.D.: Brandobaris invaded by raiders from Urogolan.

606 A.D.: The last human king of Brandobaris is executed, ceding total control of the Green Fields to Hin dominance and the oversight by the Church of Yondalla; raiders from Urogolan expelled.

616 A.D.: The Unseelie War begins; House Larethian splits, with a third of the House choosing the side of Lolth; Corellon vanishes; elves create the first SpellJamming vessels.

651 A.D.: First Crusade of Tymora begins, as the Church pushes to claim the island chain; the famed “Cities of Sisterhood” – Shar and Selune – are renamed ‘Dallah’.

727 A.D.: Unexpected disaster strikes the gnome home-world, destroying much of the culture’s history and technological progress.

729 A.D.: Second Crusade of Tymora begins, pushing from the occupied city of Dallah.

783 A.D.: King Ulliam of Cyrrollalee is gifted the legendary blade Caladcholg, symbol of his family and of the rightful rule over the Isle.

859 A.D.: The Unseelie War ends; House Larethian retreats to Perianth; House Lolth and loyalist “drow” imprisoned upon the Spider-Moon; the elven people abandon use of SpellJamming technology.

807 A.D.: Third Crusade of Tymora begins, fighting island-by-island to Perryroyal.

921 A.D.: Port of Perryroyal fully pacified under the Church of Yondalla.

928 A.D.: Gnomes independently develop SpellJamming technology, rapidly expanding beyond the Circle of Gold to explore the other moons orbiting the Crown of Sapphire.

971 A.D.: All elves and drow born before this date have since passed on.

972 A.D.: Gnomes establish the first of several small colonies on Fenris.

988 A.D.: Trade between Xhiaae-Lan and Perryroyal established.

1001 A.D.: All contact with the gnomish colonies on Fenris is lost.

1008 A.D.: Urogalandic attacks on Hin soil spur the Church of Yondalla to war; the Siege of Mordheim begins.

1051 A.D.: Gnomes make first contact with the dwarves of Moradin’s Forge, allowing the two races to begin trade; first dwarven SpellJamming vessels are prototyped.

1069 A.D.: Unexpected disaster strikes the gnome home-world, destroying much of the culture’s history and technological progress.

1101 A.D.: First dwarven SpellJamming vessels are completed.

1118 A.D.: Perryroyal lost to attacks by cults of Dagon.

1123 A.D: Dwarves establish total control over all moons orbiting Moradin’s Forge and begin exploration of Fenris.

1221 A.D. All gnomes born before this date have since passed on.

1227 A.D.: Dallah and the island-chain of Tymora lost to attacks by cults of Dagon.

1271 A.D.: All dwarves born before this date have since passed on.

1283-1289 A.D.: City of Lagas assaulted by cults of Dagon.

1292 A.D.: Gnome explorers pass beyond the Celestial Pearl, establishing Zionil Station, and make first contact with the elves of Perianth.

1307 A.D.: Einar Jarlsenn, the last human king of Urogolan, is slain as the Siege of Mordheim finally breaks the “unconquerable” fortress.

1313 A.D.: Island-chain of Tymora retaken from cults of Dagon.

1321 A.D.: City of Dallah retaken from cults of Dagon.

1333-1370 A.D.: The Hole in the Infinite opens, releasing Hive entities onto the moons orbiting the Crown of Sapphire; elves establish a quarantine-zone at Zionil, barring all travel in-system from areas infected with the Hive contagion.

1342 A.D.: Second-generation warforged developed by gnome engineers.

1366 A.D.: Merchant-families and moneylenders in Lagas successfully lobby for greater greater involvement in the politics of Arvoreen and Brandobaris, displacing many hereditary noble families.

1391 A.D.: Perryroyal retaken from cults of Dagon.

1408 A.D.: Inaugural temple dedicated to the Church of Yondalla established on the soil of Xhiaae-Lan.

1416 A.D.: Hive menace to gnomish space successfully contained to five moons: Flandal (Hive Colony Nehemoth), Segojan (Hive Colony Euclid), Baervan (Hive Colony Keter), Baravar (Hive Colony Thaumiel), and Urdlen (Hive Colony Apollyon)

1419 A.D.: Unexpected disaster strikes the gnome home-world, destroying a dangerously large portion of the culture’s history and technological progress; off-world gnome colonies successfully mitigate the very worst of the disaster.

1459 A.D.: First Cyrrolaelan Crusade begins.

1463 A.D.: Hive Colony Nehemoth successfully eradicated from Flandal; third generation warforged developed.

1477 A.D.: Second Cyrrolaelan Crusade begins.

1491 A.D.: Third Cyrrolaelan Crusade begins.

1492 A.D.: The Circle of Gold – the gnomish home-world – is destroyed in a horrific cataclysm, forming the Chain of Tears. Gnomish history, technology, and culture suffer incalculable loss.

1493 A.D.: Shao Liang, the last human king of Xhiaae-Lan, surrenders his lands to the Church of Yondalla; peace treaty is signed at Perryroyal.

1502 A.D.: First contact is made between Elves and Hin; Hin become a SpellJamming culture.

1507 A.D.: Dún Ailinne, former capitol city of Cyrrollalee, is utterly destroyed; the human courts of Cyrrollalee abandon their cities for the countryside, forming a government-in-exile.

1521 A.D.: All Hin born before this date have since passed on.

1536 A.D.: All half-elves born before this date have since passed on.

1551 A.D.: Eldest playable elven/drow characters born.

1582 A.D.: The last human kingdom on Quelya falls when King Fergus mac Róich of Cyrrollalee is killed by an elven military force allied with the Church of Yondalla; the ancestral blade of King Ulliam’s line is subsequently lost, and Cyrrollalee becomes a protectorate of Arvoreen. The city of Moander is built on the ruins of Dún Ailinne.

1603 A.D.: New Arvoreen established on Verdura.

1607 A.D.: Youngest playable elven/drow characters born.

1608 A.D: Armed peasant rebellion put down in Cyrrollalee.

1611 A.D.: All humans born before this date have since passed on.

1614 A.D.: The city of Salt Lake established on Ashen.

1619 A.D.: Contact lost with the city of Salt Lake; remnants never recovered.

1622 A.D.: New city of Salt Lake established on Ashen.

1627 A.D: Eldest playable gnome characters born.

1628 A.D.: Armed peasant rebellion put down in Cyrrollalee.

1630 A.D.: City of Salt Lake suffers 80% casualties after sandstorm.

1632 A.D.: City of Salt Lake rebuilt and reinforced with new colonists and heightened security.

1634 A.D.: On Ashen, work begins on the city of Core.

1636 A.D.: New Arvoreen on Verdura significantly expanded.

1639 A.D.: Eldest playable dwarf characters born.

1640 A.D.: City of Salt Lake successfully repels inclement weather, suffers 30% casualties.

1646 A.D.: City of Core declared fully operational.

1648 A.D.: Reserves from Salt Lake assist the city of Core during a mining incident.

1652 A.D.: Peasant rebellion in Cyrrollalee successfully expels Hin occupying forces, destroying several Arvorean military bases and Yondallan holy sites; using stolen ships, rebellion attacks and burns several coastal villages on Arvorean soil before retreating.

1656 A.D.: City of Salt Lake suffers 50% casualties during small seismic event.

1658 A.D.: Populations of Core, Salt Lake, local mining operations, and surrounding farms are bolstered by arriving waves of indentured settlers: human sentenced to penal transportation.

1661 A.D.: The mining-station of Chaldira in founded on Fenris.

1667 A.D.: Nation of Markovia founded on Verdua; diplomatic trade established with New Arvoreen.

1669 A.D.: City of New Arvoreen significantly expanded.

1674 A.D.: Salt Lake survives minor meteorological event; rates of the forcible immigration of incarcerated humans to Ashen doubled.

1676 A.D.: Eldest playable Hin characters born.

1677 A.D.: Youngest playable gnome characters born.

1678 A.D.: Youngest playable dwarf characters born.

1680 A.D.: Arvorean armada successfully retakes Cyrrollalee, imposes the Purge of Moander.

1683 A.D.: Eldest playable half-elf characters born.

1684 A.D.: Punishment via ‘transportation to Chaldira’ instituted by Church of Yondalla; operations on Chaldira expand significantly.

1691 A.D.: Disruptions by local wildlife impose 10% casualties on Salt Lake.

1694 A.D.: Eldest playable human characters born.

1699 A.D.: Armed peasant rebellion put down in Cyrrollalee.

1699 A.D.: Youngest playable Hin characters born.

1700 A.D.: Youngest playable half-elf characters born.

1701 A.D.: Brandobarin facility of Acheron founded on Ashen.

1702 A.D.: New Arvoreen significantly expanded; land officially cleared for Covington Farms, soon to be the largest agricultural facility in the system; rates of forcible immigration of indentured humans to New Arvoreen tripled.

1703 A.D.: City of Salt Lake establishes new oil fields under supervision of Acheron.

1705 A.D.: Youngest playable human characters born.

1708 A.D.: The Illithid first arrive at the edge of Pyrespace, immediately striking at the inhabitants of Moradin’s Forge and the Forge-moons, establishing a base of operations on the planet’s inhospitable surface.

1711 A.D.: The last holds of Clan Stonehall finally fail before the combined might of illithid forces, bolstered by a united army of goblins, hobgoblins, orcs, and ogres. No independent dwarven communities remain on the Forge (nor on the Forge-moons), and the home-world of the dwarves is effectively lost.

1715 A.D.: The Illithid release the Drow from their moon-prison, beginning the age of dark elven piracy across Pyrespace.

1719 A.D.: City of Salt Lake suffers 20% casualties in a series of minor industrial accidents.

1721 A.D. (current year): Campaign begins.