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i-love-tall-women-with-big-hats · 7 months

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The Yanderes of the Autumn Court

(Fall has finally 'fallen' haha, and I couldn't resist writing this. I'd say this is based on fairies, but I love cosmic horror too much to not add a wee bit of it...so I named them Alterkinder or Alterkind for singular (lit just German for 'Older Children' smh 😞) because this is my bastardized version of them.

To avoid the overuse of this made up word, I also call them the Fallen, the Autumn Court, autumn fae, or the Wither. If I say 'Yandere' specifically, I'm referring to the Yandere. Though it might seem like it, not all fair folk are lovesick in this world of mine, so the yanderes are one of a kind even compared to their fellow eldritch abominations.

Enjoy this cosmic fairy shit, loves.)

Content: original worldbuilding, stalking as courtship, unintentional cannibalism, kidnapping, necrophilia, eldritch monsters and their own version of love. Took inspirations from Hades and Persephone, but besides the kidnapping scene, nothing else.

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The Autumn Court.

Once the greatest of the Alterkinder, they bear scars from wars of ages past.

Nowadays, they are merely remembered as the Fallen, the Shadows of What Was. They were left to rot in the realm of ambers and russets, where the earth is too coarse and barren to grow much of anything.

As a result, the Fallen pride themselves on being resilient, persistent even at the face of hardship and humiliation.

Which is why for you, their mortal pet, it means rejection will never be an option.

Harvest Season

As patron deities of harvests and hunts, the Fallen treat courtship the same way a hunter would a promising prey. It's all a game to some of them. Whereas we mortals have dating rituals, the Autumn Court have what they call 'the Harvesting'.

Elder Fallen will know the season is coming before it even hits them. They will feel it in the breeze flowing through their hair, feel it in the slightest drop in temperature, or in the smallest change to their physiology.

The younger, inexperienced Fallen tend to fall victim to their basest instincts.

Should you find yourself the target of a Fallen's affection, and a Yandere one at that, just know that you will have until winter to dissuade them. Before the first snowfall, they can court you without interference from any other spirits besides those from their own court, so take advantage of it.

I wouldn't get your hopes up though. You'll realize the further more you read this what I mean by 'persistent'.

Finders, Keepers

It is a tradition in the Autumn Court that a fae must brand their chosen prey to prevent any conflict.

At this point, they will not show themselves to their chosen mortal just yet. Reasons vary, but for a Yandere, it's typically because their first priority is to let all the others know that you are theirs and theirs alone. They know just how heated territorial disputes within their court can get, and they'd rather keep you out of it as much as possible.

Though this tradition was founded to prevent any two autumn fae from fighting over the same prey, it isn't always respected. If the Yandere themselves haven't disregarded the brand of their fellow kin, then they are ensuring that nobody else would do the same. Realistically, that is impossible, but some of the more powerful members of the court could absolutely decimate anyone they think covets their pet.

From death by a thousand thorns to being mauled to shreds by their most vicious familiars, but I'll speak of their cruelties later.

How a Fallen chooses to brand their Darling is up to individual preferences.

Among the Headless Riders, their favourite method is to douse their target with their blood. Their human can scrub themselves clean, but little do they know, enough of it will still linger for any fae to notice.

Some are less dramatic and opt for something simpler, like runes and insignias.

I don't know about you, but the lack of blood make it a little less romantic...but that's just my opinion.

Pumpkin Spice and Apple Pies

After they have secured their ownership, this is when the true courtship begins.

Some Elder Fallen may still remember the magic of the Old Summers. They cannot stop the inevitable march of winter, but the chill won't drop any lower than is comfortable for a while just so they could see you wearing your favourite sweaters. Anythig to prevent you from wearing too many layers.

Some could even bless your lands with fertility to ensure a plentiful harvest for the local farmers in your area, or make it drizzle everyday should they see how much you like how it sounds against your windows.

But what can a young Fallen do when he doesn't have much power or prestige to his name?

A feast.

It isn't official, but any Fallen worth their salt must show they are capable providers. The Autumn Court as a whole not only finds pride in being survivors, but in thriving where their enemies thought they will perish.

Roast meat, your favourite desserts, and fruits you cannot name will all be beautifully arranged on your table regardless of how small it is.

But never ask what the meat is from. Don't ask what these fruits are either. The apples' flesh is red, bleeding, for a reason. You wouldn't want to know why.

The feast is simply a symbol of their dedication to you. The Yandere hopes that by showing you the fruits of their labour, you will believe them when they promise that you will never feel fear or hunger ever again.

Just let them take care of you.

The Reaping

At last, fall is coming to an end, and the Fallen are beginning to feel the approach of winter. The time has come for them to choose whether or not they want to keep you.

The Reaping is the last stage, and it is perhaps the most scariest thing the Yandere can do to you during the Harvesting.

This is because for many mortals, they wouldn't even see their suitor until this stage in the Harvesting. It's not like they could have known that the owl, falcon, cat, mountain lion, and fox that they have been encountering was just their secret admirer in disguise.

And as the wise of old said: "The longer the wait, the sweeter the fruit."

Knowing this, the Yandere would certainly abstain from talking to you just to keep the Reaping special.

It would be the first time they'll hear your voice directly being spoken to them, and only them.

It would be the first they'll feel the warmth of your skin and supple flesh, take in your scent and taste.

At last, they have you all entirely to themselves.

It all seems romantic...for the Alterkind. But for you, the first meeting is nothing less than a kidnapping.

Imagine the earth shaking out of nowhere. When you thought it was only an earthquake, the ground quite literally parts in half, and a great hole forms before you. Just as you try to even make sense of it, a great black steed leaps out. Its rider--of course it has a rider. It won't be able to wear the most noblest of accruements otherwise--simply whisks you away, back to which he came from. Your screams of terror will be ignored.

Every Fallen has their own unique love story, but if there is one thing common in all of them, it is that none of the brides were willing.

Zealous Protectors

Their defeat at the hands of the Summer Court and Spring Court had heightened something that every Alterkind has: possessiveness.

For one thing, having their home realm taken from them has made them deeply paranoid. Being stripped of all their wealth and power was like rubbing salt on their wounds.

As such, the Alterkind of the Autumn Court learned to be wary of anyone who so much as look at their possessions wrong.

The average Fallen are zealous in their guardian duties. Elder Fallen especially are known for taking their vows of protection seriously. After all, the memory of what they've lost is still fresh in their mind.

So optimistically, your devoted Alterkind was born several generations after that fateful war, but don't expect much improvement.

One of the most cruelest deaths whispered within the Court came from someone even they least expected.

There was once a prince of a quiet nature. Though far from a pacifist, his temper was not as tempestuous as the winter blizzard or thunderstorms of spring. He planted thorn berries within the belly of a spring fae, nurtured it until they grew out of her bleeding mouth and tore her stomach open.

All of this because she regarded his beloved mortal for longer than what he allowed.

Possessiveness runs deep in the veins of the Alterkinder, be they of autumn, winter, spring, or summer.

But you must know, the culture of the Fallen was built from humiliation, the detritus of their golden age act as its foundation. It nurtured them to become what they are now:

Jealous.

Possessive.

Vindictive.

Like Leaves in Fall

Ironically, the court that finds virtue in change and transition have some of the most...'inflexible' members.

You might think concepts often associated with autumn like decay and inevitability would make them more accepting of death, but alas. Once in a blue moon, you will hear tragic tales exemplifying just how much lower the Fallen Kinder could fall.

The Lovesick of the Autumn Court are just that; patron spirits of rot and inevitable death, unable to accept that even something immaterial and abstract like love can be taken from them.

They themselves can decay. It isn't unheard of for an autumn kind to slowly devolve into the very thing they are masters of. Their skin dries and peels like dried bark as their joints and bones go brittle.

They can grow lonesome.

It may hold onto the rotting corpse, too broken to acknowledge the maggots infesting its sludgy flesh, and imagine movements. In desperate hope, their decayed heart will jump as they think, "They're alive! They're waking up! I don't have to be cold and alone anymore!"

But once the Kind realize they were wrong, the grieving process starts anew, and they hurt all over again.

Their entirety withers. Their thoughts and memories may drift away. Their grasp on reality becomes just as lost as fluttering leaves.

'Reality.'

Where you truly ever theirs to begin with?

The Fallen Fae becomes bitter. Cold.

This cold bitterness grows and grows until it turns into something all-consuming. It will destroying whatever kindle was left in their heart, making it impossible for them to feel the warmth of love or hope ever again.

And so...they hold onto their Darling. A hollow shell of what their love once was.

In the shadows of the past.

Mind scattered in the wind like fallen leaves.

Ivies grow here.

In this cold dungeon of old.

Hush, for you will miss it.

The crying of the Withered.

#tw yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere monster #yandere eldritch #yandere fae #yandere cosmic horror #male yandere #yandere male

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cyber-wild-arts · 7 months

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Summary: For generations, the Raidon Archipelago has seen nothing but peace and unity. Though it is but a series of islands great and small, no grand-scale calamity has ever been able to reach it...until now. Natural disasters have begun to strike the islands, Mystery Dungeons are taking over civilized areas, and Pokémon are being corrupted by the ever-expanding influence of ruination. In the midst of the chaos, one human will arrive to change everything. Awakening in the body of a Sprigatito with no memories of her past self, Mila finds herself befriending a Shinx who is more than eager to prove himself, a Fennekin with a hidden agenda, and a Hisuian Zorua reborn from a life cut short. Together, the four of them end up enrolling in Greenleaf Academy and become Hunters of Ruination, which sounds like exciting work...but can Mila and her friends set aside their differences and work together to save the Raidon Archipelago from total destruction?

I've been working on and off, but here's the promotional image for my PMD fanfic, Hunters of Ruination. Loosely based on the PMD games, with some inspiration taken here and there from Wonder Boy/Monster World, Amphibia, and Kirby and the Forgotten Land, while also leaning more towards the slice-of-life side. Chapters will also be uploaded as I've completed them, with some illustrations to provide a bit of context.

Anywho, I do hope you enjoy the fic!

Please do NOT repost nor remove the caption! Do NOT tag as 'me' or 'kin' nor as your character(s)! Do NOT use or redistribute anywhere without my written permission!

#cyber art #Mila the Sprigatito #Jin the Shinx #Valak the Hisuian Zorua #Bridget the Fennekin #Sprigatito #Shinx #Hisuian Zorua #Fennekin #Pokemon #Pokemon Mystery Dungeon #PMD #PMD Hunters of Ruination #artists on tumblr

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galderthefuzzy · 3 months

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The Tale of Myrkalfa Earthshaker

(BG3 Major Spoilers Ahead)

The Tale of Myrkalfa Earthshaker (BG3 Major Spoilers Ahead) begins in a way unlike most any other drow; in the light of the sun. Having abandoned the Underdark before even learning to speak, this child was shielded from Lolth's cruel embrace by her war-dancer parents for most of her younger years. At a tender age no older than twelve, she and her childhood friends were caught unawares by a drider in the forest, whose vile poison cost her nearly all those she held dear. Seeing the danger posed by her under-dwelling kin and their dark spider-goddess, the young drow made a vow to herself, to help nature reclaim balance in the world, and expunge all those who would seek to harm rather than help. Upon coming of age, Myrkalfa would grow into the Circle of the Moon, mastering the art of shapeshifting in accordance with the teachings of Elistraee as she spoke to the drow people: “A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow.”After escaping the crashed nautiloid, Myrkalfa would join forces with the charming evoker Gale Dekarios, as well as the fierce gith'yanki fighter Lae'zel and mercurial Sharran cleric Shadowheart.

By fighting shoulder to shoulder, and recruiting a host of allies with their valiance, they would travel from the hilt of the sword cost to famed city Baldur's Gate, slaying every evil in their path without heeding the call of the foul Emperor. With blade and sorcery, not a single epic opponent was spared their onslaught, from the immortal Ketheric Thorm to the undying Heart of the Gate. The Master of the House, the Murderer of Mothers, the Black Hand of Bane and his foul Titan Creation. In a single swoop of their combined might, four heroes did free this age of so many evils that they are honored still among the likes of High Harper Jaheira, Nerys Kathon of Kelemvor, and Minsc of Rashemen. And in so doing, found also the light within themselves, whether it be from the Prince of the Comet, Our Lady of Silver, the Mistress of Magic, or the bright wilds of the Dark Dancer.

Not a single tiefling life was lost for the actions of these heroes, and but an ally did fall in their fight against the Absolute. Friend Yurgir, in his zeal for battle, found himself poorly placed among the party's plans for Raphael. In so doing, he gave his life, the single friend lost to none other than fate itself. At their sides in the final fight though were Zevlor and his hellriders, Dammon and the owlbear cub, Rolan and the Arcane Tower, Dame Aylin and the cleric Isobel, Jaheira and her Harpers, Nine-Fingers and the Guild, Valeria and the City Watch, Duke Ravengard's personal guard, Florrick and the Flaming Fist, Halsin and Thaniel, the free Gondians, Arabella, Mol, the Gur monster hunters, Kith'rak Voss and his red dragon, Orpheus the Prince of the Comet, and Volo the Chronicler.In the end, Shadowheart freed her parents from the shadowy grip of Shar, instead embracing the Life Domain and the teachings of the goddess Selûne. Lae'zel saw the flawed ways of the lich-queen, choosing rather to follow the teachings of the fallen Prince Orpheus, and in their name, journeying to the lands of the gith'zerai.

Gale Dekarios, formerly Gale of Waterdeep, the Chosen of Mystra, became a professor of magic at Blackstaff Academy. Archdruid of the Moon Myrkalfa Earthshaker lived up to her namesake despite adopting a new surname, cleansing the shadowlands of Ketheric's taint and Shar's corruption and allowing nature's peace to flourish once more in Baldur's Gate. The parties were chosen to safeguard a Netherstone each. One with Shadowheart, always on the move. One with Lae'zel, beyond the cusp of the stars. And one with the Dekarios household. Those locations would seem obvious to some, but in truth, it is a dare. An invitation for the Dead Three, or any other force of evil to rear its foul maw again.

I had the pleasure to work on this piece for jæja. The project was quite exciting and very complex, but I have enjoyed every step and really like how it shaped up. As a fan of Bg3, it was quite a treat to be able to combine my stained glass style with some of our beloved companions. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you for commissioning me!

#fantasy #gaming #digital #digital art #digital painting #oc #bg3 fanart #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #shadowheart #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #commission #stained glass #stylized #digital illustration

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melonsap · 1 month

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START START START

what is/are the major religion(s)?

what do politics look like?

are the people self-governed, or is there a monarchy, or something else?

what are the most prevalent political issues?

are religion, science, and politics separated, or are they tangled together?

YAY!

So this takes place on an entire continent called Ocheon, on a planet called Ater. The country I've built most, Abrylia, has a main religion (tentatively calling it Descentism due to the leader's origin) that works like this:

People who die and have lived good lives ascend to the heavens and are called ascendants, while people who haven't become nothingness when they die. The figurehead leader and high priestess of this country is called the Highborn Heiress. She's believed to be descended from an ascendant that returned to the physical world to guide people, and the people of Abrylia believe they'll drop dead if they ever look her or her kin in the eye. She wears a veil made of strung pearls to keep that from happening.

Politics are…complicated.

On the highest in-country level, you have the Electora. Abrylia's nobles vote in someone to speak for them in every major city, and everyone that wins that vote forms a council. The Highborn Heiress is technically above them; she signs the treaties, she breaks arguments when the Electora can't decide on anything or are doing their jobs poorly, she makes deal with the Magnis (getting to them in a minute), and she commissions the knightwardens (monster hunters) from their academy.

On the local level, all throughout Ocheon, the land is governed by the bannermen. They're various clans that conduct themselves differently depending on location, and they're responsible for maintaining and guarding the lands. They have squabbles about borders all the time, but the leaders of the Ocheon countries mostly leave them to it, so long as it never messes with the common citizens. Bannermen are supposed to answer to the country's leader, though more often than not, they'll defer to their own banner's lord rather than acknowledge anything bigger than their own territory.

Then, the Magnis. There are currently eight of them. It's a position outside of country laws, that supersedes the rule of any leader so long as it's within their job description, in the name of peace and future stability of the continent. The current Magnis in power are as follows:

Magni Etran - Current overseer of Dragonblood Citadel

Magni Nalum - Current overseer of the Knightwarden Academy

Magni Tol - Current overseer of the Elemental Colleges

Magni Orina - Current overseer of dragon migration

Magni Syviry - Grand Resonance smith

Magni Elorand - Grand Judge of Ocheon continent

Magni Hylal - Current overseer of candidate requisition

Magni Padryd - Current overseer of Fray investigation

The position is passed down as each Magni chooses a successor, and if one dies without choosing one, the others select and vote in their place.

Currently, the most prevalent issue is that the ninth Magni, Magni Denard, had a very hereditary position rather than the normal successor route, because his job had to do with his bloodline carrying a specific mutation of magic in it. And then he vanished without leaving an heir, so all the hard work that went into his bloodline and training vanished.

As far as science goes, this is a medieval-style world, but monster anatomy is VERY well-studied, and there are leaps and bounds in the scientific field from the spark-eyed community (magic-wielders) due to the abilities they have. That's all managed by Magnis Etran, Nalum, Tol, Orina, and Hylal, so that's the political tie-in.

#WOO ATER #fave mutuals #ask bee #long post #worldbuilding #ater #abrylia #writeblr

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lydiaalin · 14 days

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would love to know more about your horror cowboys! are they from a personal project or some other media (game/book?)

they’re from a game called Hunt Showdown, it’s an extraction shooter in a horror western setting where some entity called the Sculptor has taken over an area in New Orleans and is essentially corrupting every living thing (see: shambling zombies everywhere, giant spiders made out of a bunch of people, some dude made out of bugs, headless dudes that see through leeches coming out of their body etc.)

there’s a secret organization called the American Hunters Association which deals with the occult and supernatural and they went in to contain the situation and banish the bigger monsters, but the whole event attract the outside attention and there are rich benefactors vying for a piece of those monsters as trophies (and who knows what else) so there were a bunch of bounty hunters and money desperate, or people with something to prove, going in besides the Association and fighting over the, which has been dubbed as the Hunt

The three ‘cowboys’ I posted are my own OCs that are all in some way involved in the Hunt but ngl I haven’t really ironed out all their lore 🏃‍♀️

▫️ Amarante Montandon’s father was a Hunter of the Association who went in for the Hunt but never returned home, had left her in the care of their close neighbor. Amie ran away and went looking for him but soon after stepping foot in the city of New Orleans she was snatched up and put on a train to the Bayou with a bunch of other orphans, where Sheriff Hardin was using them as fodder to cull the monster population with the promise of reward if they returned with trophies, only to then shoot them himself if they survived (x, x)

Amie was of the few that survived, both the monsters and Hardin, and ran back into the Bayou where she scrapped by on her own for a while, before she ran into Hardin again who after a standoff and a brief talk of the Association and her father he offered to make her his Deputy, which more out of necessity for survival more than anything, she accepted - while she doesn’t trust him nor like him, she has come to be one of the more reliable of the Lawful Pact in the Bayou

▫️The Tracker AKA Eleanor Callahan was from a family of Wolfers (wolf hunters) in Colorado where she was one of their best trackers even from an early age, until she got tired of that life and ran off. She quickly fell in with the bad sort, briefly joining various gangs and robbing and scamming people in the city. Eventually she wronged the wrong people, joined a gang only to run away with their stockpile of money which of course they did not take lightly and chased her down tirelessly - they caught up to her in the Bayou and beat her within an inch of her life, leaving her for dead.

She was left in an area affected by the Sculptor and in her death roes was attracted to one of the rifts which are “punctures between worlds”, she was subsequently healed by it to a degree but was left visually impaired, only being able to see a short distance in front of her in black and white but also being able to see other rifts a great distance away, a kin to the Dark Sight the Hunters use, though they were required to use a special serum to acquire that ability.

She was later found and picked up by Felis and the Bone Doctor, Hunters of the Primal Pact and she ended up joining them in the Hunt, putting her newfound ability and her knowledge as a tracker to use.

▫️ Devany Kesserly honestly has very little lore at the moment, all she has right now is that she was killed during the Hunt by being shot and then drowning in the swamp, she was revived via necromancy on the spot by a Hunter named Gar, who was part of the Drowned Pact, Hunters who had also drowned and were revived by the will of some witch - Devany not being revived by the witch herself did not become part of the Pact, but she did end up with the ability to heal when in contact with water, even heavy rain

She also knows Amarante in some way but haven’t decided how and why yet 🏃‍♀️💨

#ahem this ended up kinda long and I didn't proof read (<wrote while at work) but thank you for asking! 👯‍♀️#the tracker #devany kesserly #amarante montandon

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redratt · 7 months

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realized i have 5 bratoviches

I only have art of 3 of them . . .

Rattler Bratovich, 33, Second in Command of the Family Homestead and local menace. She wasn't Embraced, not like Molly, but is the oldest of the Bratovich girls there and the second-oldest of the 'Kiddos' at the homestead-- the only older one is Elijah, who spends most of his time off the land and looking for meat to kidnap for the Tzimisce. Rattler's fucked up eye lets her see spirits/wraiths/etc if she closes her other eye and focuses and is an implant from Gulo, the Tzimisce who maintains their home.

More Rattler Sketches, because she's a terrible woman and I love her dearly. Rattler is both victim and perpetrator; she's trapped in a situation she had no chance of escaping, and has been made into something truly horrid -- but the fact that she never had a chance to be anything else makes her a bit... tragic. It's one thing to be a monster because you wanted to, but another entirely to be born into a Revenant House-- and in particular, the house with the reputation for being the most fucked up out of them all, you know? She's not a good person by any means, but she is a good character. You've all seen Molly, of course, and she's Bratovich number 2 -- 7th/8th gen Tzimisce, got locked in a shed for a while until she picked up the flesh-warping practices properly, all of that.

Abbot of the Garden Snakes, Molly has a sense of hospitality that makes her a natural for the position. She shares what she has with the rest of the pack, and gets very frustrated when dealing with Cainites who are more selfish. She understands it, but... c'mon.

Then there's Patchwork/Patchcoat "Patch" Bratovich, the Bone Gnawer Hillfolk Ahroun who hates humans, hates the society of Garou, and refuses to listen to a lot of what the Nation proposes. She hates you, if you're a Silver Fang, a Black Fury, a Talon, a Coggie -- she fucking hates you, because where the fuck were you when the Kin-Blooded Bratovich were suffering? Where were you?

Black Furies in particular really make her mad.

Patch fights the Wyrm, but she doesn't have a pack. She doesn't often attend Moots. She refuses to associate with a lot of the Garou of the Nation, because she thinks they're all just fucked up angry failures who don't actually care about the world beyond their narrow view. She does a lot of work with the poor and the suffering, though, and actually knows a few healing gifts. Patch's Rage is fuelled by what she's seen.

When she was first-changed, Ma Bratovich leashed her up and put her in a silver cage. The muzzle and the scars that are burned into her skin left Patch in a near-constant state of Frenzy. It was there that Rat reached out to her and offered something more than just... being imprisoned.

The fourth Bratovich is Mar'yagh, and she's a Black Spiral Dancer Galliard. Not from Molly/Patch/Rattler's branch of the family, Mar'yagh was fourteen when she Changed, and was immediately driven out to a rural Pit where she was made to Dance the Spiral. Mar'yagh seems pretty normal, and actually has a series of gifts to hide her wyrm-taint. She's amicable, ambling, and has a series of good jokes.

But the Rage is there, and the Wyrm is there, and sometimes her head just hurts, you know?

Her personal Patron is Singing Bat.

The fifth and least-developed Bratovich is Winona (Winnie/Wyn) Bratovich. She's either going to be a Hunter of some kind or a Widderslainte, and I'm not too sure what I want to do with her yet.

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musicisamust69 · 10 months

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◇The Naga’s Bride◇

Lila was a young woman who lived in a small village near the forest. She was beautiful and kind, but also lonely and unhappy. Her father had arranged for her to marry a wealthy merchant who was much older than her and who treated her like a possession. She longed for freedom and adventure, but she had no choice but to obey her father’s wishes.One day, as she was walking in the forest to gather some herbs, she heard a strange sound. It was like a hiss and a growl mixed together. She followed the sound and came across a clearing where she saw a large snake-like creature lying on the ground. It had scales of green and gold, and a human torso with arms and a handsome face. It was a naga, one of the legendary beings that were said to live in the depths of the forest.Lila gasped and stepped back, afraid that the naga would attack her. But the naga did not move. He looked at her with pain and sadness in his eyes. He had been wounded by a hunter’s arrow that pierced his side. He was bleeding and weak, and he knew he would not survive much longer.“Please… help me…” he whispered.Lila felt a surge of pity and curiosity for the naga. She had never seen such a creature before, and she wondered why he was asking for her help. She approached him cautiously and saw that the arrow was stuck deep in his flesh. She took out her knife and cut the arrow out, then used some herbs to clean and bandage the wound.The naga groaned and thanked her for her kindness. He told her his name was Ravi, and that he was the prince of the nagas. He had been exploring the forest when he encountered the hunter who shot him. He managed to escape, but he lost too much blood and could not return to his home.Lila felt sorry for Ravi, and decided to stay with him until he recovered. She brought him food and water, and talked to him about her life and dreams. Ravi listened to her with interest and admiration, and told her stories about his people and their culture. They soon became friends, and then something more.Lila realized that she had fallen in love with Ravi, and he felt the same way about her. They kissed and embraced under the stars, and vowed to be together forever. Lila decided to run away with Ravi, to leave behind her unhappy marriage and live with him in his realm.But their happiness was short-lived. The hunter who had wounded Ravi had tracked him down, and brought a group of men with him to capture or kill him. They surrounded the clearing where Lila and Ravi were sleeping, and attacked them with spears and nets.Lila woke up to the sound of shouting and fighting. She saw Ravi fighting bravely against the men, but he was outnumbered and still weak from his injury. She grabbed a knife and tried to help him, but she was knocked down by one of the men.“Let him go!” she screamed. “He’s not a monster! He’s my love!”The hunter laughed cruelly. “Your love? You’re a fool, girl! This thing is an abomination! A freak of nature! He deserves to die!”He raised his spear to strike Ravi in the heart, but Lila threw herself in front of him. The spear pierced her chest instead, killing her instantly.Ravi roared in anguish as he saw Lila fall dead in his arms. He felt a surge of rage and sorrow that gave him new strength. He broke free from the nets that bound him, and attacked the hunter with his fangs and claws. He tore him apart, then turned to face the other men.They were terrified by his fury, and ran away in panic. Ravi ignored them. He only cared about Lila, his bride, his soulmate. He cradled her body in his arms, and wept bitterly.He knew he could not stay in this world any longer. He carried Lila’s body to a nearby lake, where he summoned his naga kin with a loud call. They emerged from the water, shocked by what they saw.Ravi told them what had happened, how he had met Lila, how they had fallen in love, how they had been attacked by humans. He asked them to take them both to their realm, where they could be together in peace.The nagas agreed to honor his wish. They wrapped Lila’s body in a shroud of silk

Author note: please consider reading my other work it's not much tho

#naga #romance #naga x reader #midevil #fantasy

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imsparky2002 · 10 months

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Canon vs Creepster: Kagami

Canon!Kagami *Bowing gracefully* You have quite the extrodinary outfit. I have a love for western films, watched them all the time back in Japan.

*Kagami Herushingu smiles, surprised at how... calm this girl is to see another version of herself. She tips the hat in response*

Herushingu: Well, thank ya kindly, darlin’! Name’s Herushingu, pleasure to meet ya!

Canon!Kagami: Kagami Tsurugi. I must say, your accent is lovely, yet is quite different from your name. Are you by any chance American?

Herushingu: Yes’m, Born and raised in Texas!

Canon!Kagami: Hmm... how interesting. I don't sense any sort of falsehood about you. Clearly this is the result of some sort of accident. Are you by any chance from an alternate reality?

*Herushingu's eyes widen in surprise. She's right on the money!*

Herushingu: Just precisely, ma’am. Where I’m from, my kin are monster hunters, same as I am ma’self!

Canon!Kagami: Oh! And by monsters, you are referring to more supernatural species? In our world, the only sort of monsters are those who were changed by the villainous Hawk Moth.

*Thinking of the butterfly, Herushingu can't help but snigger a little*

Canon!Kagami: Yes, yes, he looks as stupid as his name.

*Herushingu sobers back up and tells her counterpart about her team and the type of monsters they face*

Herushingu: Exactly right on that front, darlin’! We’re talkin’ real monsters, vampires, phantoms, demons! The kind that live to terrorize the in’cent folk! Not to mention the most vile. Human killers!

Canon!Kagami: What gives one person the right to decide when another’s life should end. It’s just…dishonorable!

Herushingu: S'like my mama says. "Humans are the only 'monsters', because they have no reason to kill."

*Canon!Kagami looks a little jealous and sad that her mother isn't as close to her.*

Canon!Kagami: Does your mother treat you well?

*Herushingu frowns, looking concerned for her counterpart.*

Herushingu: Yeah, she can be a bit rough on the edges sometimes, but we get on just fine! I get the feelin’ ya need someone to talk to, hon.

Canon!Kagami: *Trying to stay strong* I... I try hard to stay strong, in order to make her proud. But sometimes... *voice quivering* I feel as though I am nothing but a disappointment.

*She desperately hold back a sniffle, as Herushingu embraces her, letting the girl sob into her shoulders. It pains her to think of a world where her mama would treat her with such cruelty.*

Herushingu: Here, now, that’s a load’a nonsense! I’ve only just met ya, but so can already tell ya got a fightin’ spirit! The only person who’s standards ya need to live up to are your own, and I’m sure you got plenty to be proud of!

Canon!Kagami: *Sniffing* I... I'm sorry for breaking down. That isn't like me. *Trying to regain composure* I... I suppose I like fencing. I mean... my mother made sure that happened. *Frowning once again* Do... do you like fencing?

Herushingu: (smiles) I do love a good sword-crossin’ every now and again! But if I’m bein’ honest, my trusty guns get me through the most battles!

Canon!Kagami: What is a... gun?

Herushingu: (Blinks a few times) Oh, boy…

Canon!Kagami: *A little bit later* So, do you have heroes you fight alongside? Some sort of team?

Herushingu: (Smiles) Yeah, I got ma partners, Marinette and Adrien.

Canon!Kagami: *Feels a quiver in her stomach once again.* Oh... what are they like?

*Herushingu tells her about their jobs and personalities, and notices Canon!Kagami looking sadder and sadder as she continues*

Herushingu: Well, Marinette’s real spunky, she’s somethin’ of a mad scientist! Sometimes I don’t know what she’s talkin’ about, but it’s cute how excited she gets! And Adrien…well, he’s one of a kind. So sweet, but so lively at the same time! Don’t know what I’d do without em to be honest!

*Canon!Kagami sobs once again. Memories of events from canon are flashing through her mind. Herushingu frowns. What on earth happened between her and her partners in this world?*

Herushingu: What... what's wrong?

Canon!Kagami: It's... it's complicated.

*Herushingu's eyes narrow. Something happened to this girl, and she wants to know what*

Herushingu: Please tell me... if ya want to.

*And she did. She told Herushingu everything that had gone down. All of the highs and lows.... and Herushingu was PISSED*

Herushingu: Darlin’…I don’t even know WHAT to say. They put you through hell emotionally and yet you still stand by em! If they don’t realize how lucky they are to have you in their lives, I may do something I’d regret later!

Canon!Kagami: No... please don't. They're perfect for each other, just not for anyone else. Focus on your own partners, keep taking good care of them.

Herushingu: (Sighs) If you say so, lil lady!

Canon!Kagami: ... Is there any way I can visit you?

Herushingu: Well, here lemme give you my number. I got a few friends who know some witchy stuff, so they should connect across dimensions. Call whenever ya want!

Canon!Kagami: I will, thanks!

And that’s the last of the trio meeting their canon self! I feel that Kagami was done dirty in the show. Not just by Marinette and Adrien, but also with how the writers decided her and FELIX would be a good idea. I may do the villains and classmates as well, but I don’t know yet. Once again thank you to Weeby for assisting with the writing, and make sure to check out the previous crossovers with Marinette and Adrien. Reblog, reply, post and ask to spread the love. @artzychic27 @msweebyness

#kagami tsuguri #kagami #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #marinette salt #adrien salt #kagami sugar #canon vs au #creepsters #creepsters au #tomoe salt

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edensrose · 1 year

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆! 𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒖 ❜࿔

─────── .°୭̥ ✿ˎˊ˗ “ 2k followers event ’

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ ainur⠀〳 reader⠀ ៸៸ vampire themes ៸៸ blood mention ៸៸ biting, so much biting ៸៸ some violent themes ៸៸ dark fantasy ៸៸ royal aspects ៸៸ victorian esque ៸៸ various other tags to be listed as the au ensues ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. a world where mysterious, terrible creatures of the night rule over the land from the shadows. mere myth to most yet reality to others, it seems that the latter might become more apparent as there is an uproar in the vampire royal court. this victorian esque story follows the lives of the vampire court, the internal divide between kings, the struggle of scientists fighting for humanity. . . and the war between creatures of twilight and the divine hunters that vow to eradicate them.

꒰❀꒱ please ensure that you have read the vampire legendarium and the character sheet before proceeding

꒰❀꒱ queue / masterlist.

in celebration of reaching 2k followers, I have decided to run an event that the majority of you voted for in a poll. I would like to first take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you who have supported me. I have been in the tolkien fandom for over a year and I am so happy with how far I have come. I appreciate all of you and I can only hope for smooth sailings along with greater things to come! I would also like to give a huge thanks to my darling friend @cilil , for she was the one who helpled me massively with this au! at this point, it's our au lol. love you babes<3 anyway ~

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· ⊰ notes

꒰❀꒱ the following event will work on a request system. you can request as many times as you like, however, there are only fifteen slots. depending on my mood, I might open up more slots in the future ( 21 requests — closed! )

꒰❀꒱ anyone can participate, as long as you take my rules into consideration

꒰❀꒱ requests are reader-insert based, you may request for a total of three characters in one fic

꒰❀꒱ you may request calamórë ( manwë x námo ) as well

꒰❀꒱ please send in a prompt from below and a character. you do not have to provide plot but you can if you so wish

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· ⊰ prompts

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ dialogue

"don't vampires live forever? that's a long time. . ." "you make me sick."

"for a so-called 'expert', your strategies are kind of weak."

"you're everything I ever wanted..."

"you can run, but you cannot hide. "

"holy water. how original. "

"if you bite me, will I die?"

"please don't be afraid of me."

"your blood is intoxicating. if I start, I don’t think I could ever stop." "I trust you."

"I want you to turn me."

"what are you?"

“you’re hurting me!”

"you are/are not a monster."

"don't come any closer!"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"if you’re going to sit there bleeding, at least have the decency to offer me some to drink."

"please, just give me a chance!"

"what happens if two vampires drink from each other?" "would you like to find out?"

"you're not just the friendly gentleman/lady, are you?"

"scared, darling?"

"hold still and this won't hurt as much."

“don’t you dare lie to me!”

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( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ scenarios

ʚ A and B knew each other in the past, and A is heartbroken and betrayed seeing that B is a vampire Hunter now. B has to now try to regain this trust.

ʚ B finally finds A, but after taking one glance at their terrified form, they can't bare to finish carrying out their mission.

ʚ A and B are in a forbidden romance, as they are either a vampire or vampire hunter

ʚ A is a hunter and thinks that they are misleading B, a vampire. little do they know that B already knows what they are and is playing them as well

ʚ A is a human and in a relationship with B, a vampire who is trying to keep them safe from other vampires

ʚ A and B are on opposite sides, A ends up defending B in a fight when their kin clash

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( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ action prompts

( angel. ) reader is tricked by the beauty of vampire and is thus lured into a dangerous sutuation.

( accident. ) vampire/vampire hunter accidentally hurts reader.

( authority. ) vampire / vampire hunter shows their authority over reader.

( awaken. ) reader awakes as a vampire with the one who turned them at their side.

( battle. ) reader and vampire / vampire hunter are on opposite sides, they find themselves in a battle.

( betrayal. ) vampire / vampire hunter betrays reader ( or vice versa ).

( bite. ) vampire bites the reader on their ( neck / wrist / thigh / body part ) to drink their blood.

( bloodlust. ) vampire has gone too long without feeding, base instincts taking over, the reader finds them.

( capture. ) reader is captured by vampire / vampire hunter ( or vice versa ).

( chase. ) reader runs from either a vampire / vampire hunter.

( control. ) vampire has to control themselves from draining the reader dry.

( dance. ) reader and vampire / vampire hunter share a tense or intimate dance.

( discover. ) reader discovers what the other actually is, a vampire / vampire hunter.

( duty. ) vampire hunter has to decide whether to choose duty over love when they discover what the reader truly is.

( gift. ) human reader gifts vampire roses without knowledge of its effects.

( gold. ) reader sees vampire hunter's golden wounds.

( intentional. ) vampire / vampire hunter intentionally hurts reader either out of spite or to obtain information from them.

( interrogation. ) vampire / vampire hunter interrogates reader.

( protective. ) vampire / vampire hunter expresses protectiveness over reader.

( rescue. ) vampire hunter / vampire saves reader.

( reveal. ) vampire / vampire hunter reveals to reader what they really are.

( sacrifice. ) vampire / vampire hunter sacrifices themselves for reader.

( sadistic. ) reader finds themselves in a situation with a sadistic-driven vampire / vampire hunter.

( stake. ) after finding out the other is a vampire, the reader tries to stake them.

( temptation. ) vampire tempts reader with immortality or the idea of staying by their side for all eternity.

( trapped. ) reader finds themselves trapped in the vampire royal castle / the hunters' domain

( turn. ) vampire turns the reader into one of them.

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bogbiter · 9 months

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League Concept: Flying Wyverns (ft. THROGG?!?!)

Hello beasties! Remember that guy I was rewriting? This man started in the same train of thought as Kyridon. Actually he was the OG. And he was admittedly not as cool. Or lore wise, thought out. He was PURELY designed for being a monster champ with a brawler kit.

And boy he has grown in concept since the start of 2021.

Let me tell you about a troll. His name is Throgg

Throgg from Warhammer Fantasy is one of the most intelligent individuals in the Old World. And most definitely the most intelligent troll period. While his original appearance did not paint him as especially bright, if just exceptionally competent in tactics. Yet The Kinslayer and End Times saga painted him a far more intelligent force. Like, he was Warhammer Fantasy's take on Smaug, having such a Shakespearean flair that one did not expect from some senior aged troll.

milkandcookiesTW does an exceptional video on the dude, and I do recommend reading Kinslayer as they not only make him the big bad, but also just because Felix and Gotrek books are just swag.

youtube

What does this do with our boy here? Well, the story below details that juxtaposition between pure predator and architect of the future of an entire species. Also yes we're revisiting the Freljord again fuckers because the Northern Lands of Ice and Frost need more things to kill you.

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In the Frozen lands, there lies the ancestral site of the Laitivern, the original Rulers of the Sky. For Generations, hundreds of these wyvern clans would roost within the massive elder volcano of Wyrms Furnace, their kin dominating the skyline. And at one point they were not just limited to the Freljord either, for they had in older days conquered the world. They were cunning, and recognized that in a world of great beasts, numbers overwhelming lead to victory. They existed alongside Man, Troll, Minotaur, and Vastaya, but they were not on equal terms. They raided Man and Minotaur, competed with Troll, and preyed upon Vastaya. Their namesake became synonymous with dragons, for a flock of wandering Laitiverns could very easily overwhelm a territory and strip it of livestock and soldiers.

The Rune Wars changed this dynamic however, for the sorcery unfolded onto the world would scar the lands they called home. Magibeast once dormant before days of creation rose up, and tempered the land in strange horrific ways. Magic radiated into new and terrifying plagues, and for as clever as the The Laitivern were, they did not know how to combat these new threats. But the other races did, and though they too had an uphill battle, they gained a footing when the Laitiverns themselves could not. They disappeared from most of the world, and those who resided in the Freljord soon found that Man and Troll had grown stronger. Now their meals were stolen away, or their hunting flocks ambushed and feasted upon. Some of these terrible magic plagues tore into scales like scalding iron, and left them too weak to fly. And those who could not fly, they starved. Many clans were razed in this era, and the Laitivern went into hiding, less they attracted the unwanted attention of Dragon Hunters and Slayers.

Those around the Freljord could sometimes go weeks without a successful kill. And as the magibeast roamed the land, and the shamans spread themselves out far and wide, those at Wyrm's Furnace had an idea to feed on them instead. The flesh of Balestag or Frost Casting Yeti could suffice a flock for much longer than a typical boar or cave bear. These hunts were not… always successful… but those who came back proved themselves the most capable and cunning of their flock, and were awarded the title of Mach'dala, or "Soul Downer''.

To their surprise, the young that ate upon the sweet meat of these corrupted creatures seemed to grow a powerful resistance to crippling frost magic, or bolts of channeled fire. Seeing positive effects of their more daring hunts, the tradition carried on, and slowly did their magical potency grow as those same hatchlings would then grow up into Mach'dala themselves. Near the modern age, as Noxus crashed the gates of holds in the east of the Freljord, some Laitiverns could deflect the magic, and those that had hunted shamans could now bring their own runic powers to the hunt. But they had also harnessed in this time the "Styg '', or "Wrath". The ability to breathe a clouded emission black as storm clouds and rolling with red thunder, that could direct at prey and foe alike. The Laitivern became known as Galdrveiðrormr, or as the Mage Hunter Wyverns. And those of Wyrm's Furnace grew bold, and even with Anivia in the skies… they claimed the heavens as their domain.

Wyrm's Furnace however was full of more Laitiverns than the Mach'dala. There were the Oldsouls who guided the roost and healed its soldiers, the Foragers who gathered supplies for nesting and firemaking, the Bouncers who protected the roost, and the Carvers, who carved out rock for them to build more nests and roosts. An apt home for hatchling, with many careers to seek. Among a clutch of eggs that belonged to a esteemed Carver and Mach'dala, was Veyolkos.

It was very clear after he hatched he was born a gifted hatchling, with his scales sharpening very early on, and learning to glide within a month of hatching. But this caused the problem where he was a bit too curious. Curiosity in the Freljord for even humans and Yordles has to be tempered, otherwise death would be the answer to the inquiry. So they kept him near the Oldsouls, who had no qualm with watching a hatchling. Except Veyolkos the moment he learned to speak, had too many questions. He asked why they collected spears, and was told they were warrior's trophies. When he asked if he could make a spear, the elders were dumbfounded, and had no idea if they could. Humans seemed to make them with ease, but they were so thin the Laitivern's saw them as an inconvenience. What use was a weapon if you were already so dangerous unarmed. He didn't like the answer, and attempted to make such spears. And then axes. And then disastrously, a bow. After a few days and a few more missing scales and bruises from the Laitivern Chick's attempted craftsmanship, they relieved Veyolkos of their watch, the Oldsouls growing tired of his boundless energy and always fidgeting talons resulting in injuries around the roost.

This was unseemly, as chicks could easily get lost or snatched up by an Azurite Eagle. But a few experienced foragers agreed, for his mother couldn't take him as she hunted far more dangerous beasts, and his father worked near falling stone for a living. Taking him under their wing, they showed them the shells they used to forage water, and the branches they searched for that carried the healing ingredients needed for the Oldsouls to use. They showed him flint, and chunks of metal along the cliff faces that helped start flame. And this, seemed to get him wondering if the wood they harvested for the fires couldn't be used to make something else. Especially seeing how easily the wind could snatch their cache from their talons. So he took to some branches, and as the veterans foraged, attempted to make a basket. He had never seen a basket, but he figured something that could hold multiple supplies at a time they could carry in their jaws and talons, was far easier. And to his chagrin, after six fell apart, the seventh carried back 3 shells of water and a bundle of medicinal batteries. The Veterans were curious about the little thing, and asked the young hatchling how it was made. And Veyolkos was more than happy to show.

As he grew into a Yearling, he would continue as a forager. Though he would not lie, he wasn't particularly fond of just being a forager. Yes he made baskets for collecting, but he also wanted to make more with the sticks, bones, and stones at his disposal. So he made for larger baskets yes, and sleds to make transporting caches easier, but he also took to equipping himself with armor. Most notably, taking the hides of kills and tanning them to make leather. To make into stripes. And to create spears around his face and shoulders, as to create a formidable defense as he and other foragers would descend into the valley to steal from the Freljord's wolves and bears. Veyolkos despite his size would always attempt to lead the attack, for though he was similar in size to the bears he believed his craftsmanship would stand the test against them. And the first couple attempts did not. But he learned to treat the wood with flame, and sharpen the bone instead of just relying on its broken pieces. And soon his body was among the veterans as they reaped hard earned scraps, as he tore into their furred hides with sharpened blades and claws, bringing back extra to be eaten, and additionally bringing him more materials to work with.

Though the Bouncers found his designs to be… the work of a fledgling that had yet to realize his true strength, the Foragers were more than happy to use his new equipment. Veyolkos at first believed he could create a new career, here in Wyrm's Furnace. As much as he enjoyed gathering, he couldn't help but feel it would be wasted potential. While others saw shapes and landmarks, he saw patterns. Patterns that could be manipulated and made into something new. For his siblings he created shields of bone and hide, to protect their sides once they were applied. When they went off to hunt, they wouldn't be as scathed by a predator's blows, but they did return with the armor mangled and torn. Which only incentivised him to cure leather and toughen the hide at his disposal.

But at two years of age, all his planning and testing was interrupted by his mother. His mother saw his tinkering not as the work of a brilliant mind or an opportunistic artist, but a soul yearning for conflict. Wolves and Elk wouldn't cut it, no, he'd need bigger prey. She told him that since he could fly with expertise now, that he must return home with magically gifted prey. Veyolkos was mortified at first, for he had heard his mother's stories of those beasts beyond in the Old Pines and Evergrowth. But before he went out, he asked her to let him prepare for it. She accepted, and for 2 months he fastened himself a suit of leather, bone, and took from an abandoned den, a worn out and torn chest piece of steel to make as a helm. And so he went out on his hunt, soaring through the skies in ragged armor. There amidst stormy skies he scoured, the pelts of his armor keeping him protected from the bite of winter's wind.

The storm he flew into made it so visibility was low, but amidst the flurry he caught sight of a fire deep in a cave. He perched outside of it, resting atop the mouth of the cave, as he let himself lay low and hid beneath the white blanket of the precipitation. There he saw a lone man, decorated in bear furs moving back to the cave, unaware of the danger lurking above his own refuge. He had heard of Shamanic Werebears, and wondered if though not the largest kill to make, if it would draw the praise of his roost. This was his first magibeast to down, not fed to him in shreds from the mouth of an elder or his mother.As soon as the shaman passed under the roof of the cave Veyolkos shot forward like a panther leaping towards a bird in flight. His body contorted, facing the man as the man instinctively entered his Ursine state. The two collided, bouncing into the cave as both tried to land their jaws on the throat of the other. But Veyolkos’s face spears became too difficult to navigate around, and so the Ursine departed, bleeding from his chest and arms, and tried to find a new way to attack this armored Laitivern. Veyolkos would look around, to find that indeed, Laitivern scales were used in the making of spears and axes. He snapped his jaws as the Ursine tried to rush for his flank, only to pull away, revealing that hidden along their neck was the teeth of bear, wolf, raptor… Laitivern. This Shaman most likely had experience, and knowing killing a slayer like him could prove dangerous to his people, he immediately went to flee, only to feel the Ursine crash into him and knock him over, immediately trying to go for his chest, yet seemed somewhat stunned when his claws only struck hide and stone. Which he had still torn apart, but had not reached the vitals of the Laitivern. Taking advantage of the situation, Veyolkos slapped the Ursine onto its back, and flipping himself up with cat-like agility. He plunged his head spears into the Ursine Man’s side and continued the fight, as the bear man clawed away at his face only for Veyolkos to plunge his spears deeper into the shaman. The struggle was long and brutal, Veyolkos withdrawing only after the Ursine stopped swiping away with their claws. His own face was a bloody mess, but beyond the blood flowing down his eyes, he was able to see the man’s bag. Torn up during their brawl, he noticed its contents included a long scroll, made from the skin of a seal. He nabbed it and the man’s body, flying off with his catch.

He returned to his mother and the elders, presenting his kill as he panted, before showing off his armor. He harshly dropped the shaman before their feet, before ripping a chunk out of the Ursine’s flesh, harshly gulping down the pelt and viscera. He couldn't hear anything they said, but he assumed he had pleased them. He climbed to the top of the Qyrm's Furnace, and took to studying the runes engraved onto the pelt, occupied only by the howl of the wind.

----

Laitivern mature rapidly at a young age, then it slowly peters out once they reach twelve years of age. As sub-adults they are not yet old enough to court or start their own clutch, but they can hunt amongst one another with some independence. Veyolkos had decided to flip flop between the Forager groups and Mach'dala. Amongst his siblings he was an alien, they adhered to the ways of old. And so he was most regarded not as a pack mate, but a tag-along. And so on their hunts he'd disappear for a time, since they wanted nothing to do with his inventions. But that was fine for Veyolkos. He'd begun smiting since he was seven, and had outfitted his talons with claws befitting a king. Silver he had learned, had some properties that could protect him from the surge of energy his prey usually outputted. Mystical stags he'd search for, not awake. For their speed was so frighteningly swift he could never keep up. When he found such prey he'd make sure they were sleeping. Sometimes he'd silently move in and pin the magibeast down, eating them alive. Other times he just found it easier to grab a large chunk of ice or a boulder to drop on them and concuss them. Before taking his talons to their throat. Should he find the campsites of hunters, he'd make sure none were around before taking any armor or artifacts they possessed as novelties to research. Most treasured to him was literature,for even power fantasies where the author obviously transposed himself into his work he found utterly fascinating. His favorite thing to catch he had created a pulley system just to harpoon the beast: The Frost Serpent. He had found their hide was too sharp and smooth to gain purchase with talons, and they moved so quickly that it would be a miracle to catch their giant eyes to rangle the beast. So Veyolkos had learned to harpoon them as soon as possible, and cranking the pulley could effectively keep one in place and slowly drag it to be butchered. His siblings called it cheating and barbaric. He called it an opportunity, for their sharp scales and fangs made for excellent blades and armor scaling.

Among his foraging kin he'd fashion them nets, should everyone be feeling more in the need for fish and seal. And he'd create great traps to capture Elnüks. The Foragers also noted how he often searched for herbs when they were available, and whatever food they had he would use them on the meat. At first they found it strange to add greens to their carrion, but when cooked, or he put it in a stone pot he had made and boiled them together, opinions changed quickly. He was always fast on the wing, and that made him exceptionally good at catching the more mundane prey. And they knew for a fact he would hunt the yetis that marched around their territory, plucking them straight from the sky only to drop them to the earth, like an eagle does with a tortoise.

Though his most macabre behavior of butchery. Impaling his prey to the trees and their branches, so that he could take his claws and remove their hides, and cut their flanks. He had made a basket specifically for this act, and he'd return with the cut pieces and prepare it for whoever was willing to eat from his kills. Sometimes he'd return with the helm of a Frostguard, other times the necklace of the Ursine, and rarely the weapons of the Winter's Claw. To the Laitivern he was still Veyolkos, but he had heard himself spoken about in times where he lurked in the shadows outside of man's fire glow… as The Windrazor. Veyolkos appreciated the name, and on his 14th year decided that his title should be just that: The Windrazor.

Naturally though as tensions rised in the Freljord, with the coming of the Dominion and the Walled Settlements of the Avarosans, hunts were now far more stressful. Especially now that Wyrm's Furnace was repeatedly being raided by Tribal Yordle, Trolls, and Slayers of The Winter's Claw. To kill a Laitiverns had always been a statement to one's hunting prowess, but their sharp scales and strong hide made for excellent armor and weapon crafting. The Bouncers were strong folk, but they were being overrun. As some bouncers fell after raid after raid, and The Mach'dala themselves would fall, Veyolkos stopped his hunts, and stayed behind to watch over his kin's ancestral site, ready to prove himself capable of protecting their roost. He took to what resources he had, and through convincing, equipped the remaining Bouncers In Armor, protecting their faces and chest, yet still allowing them to shoot their scales out at the enemy. He asked upon the Carvers to find fine stone deep within Wyrm's Furnace, and bring it to him. There he'd teach them, including his own father, to make blades for the tails of The Bouncers, and these blue, steel-shining great blades were so refined in quality that they could take down scores of men, and even without their cutting edge the weight alone could crush a troll's skull.

He rallied the foragers and equipped them in shields that protected their flanks, and branded their heads with metal spears and their chest with plates made of thick hides and stone. They would go out there to scout first the whereabouts of these hunters, using the cover of night and thunderstorm to determine exactly how these raiders planned to take them. Mach’dala and Bouncers occupied any forces coming from their east and north, while they determined the best possible way to strike. Veyolkos also searched out the Vellox tribes that wandered near their territory, and communed with Yetis. He raised to them teh cruelty they had been experiencing, and how together, they could not only protect Wyrm’s Furnace, but all those in the freljord. He was no longer just trying to protect the Laitiverns, he was amassing an army to do so. He asked his siblings and mother to aid him in such encounters, and at first confused and just going along, they had not the slightest idea why? Only to see Vellox cowering and Yetis lowering their ice clubs in their presence, as Veyolkos spoke with haunting authority, though the other Mach’dala could not discern what he was saying. They would bow to each other, and then the non-laitiverns would leave. Only for Veyolkos to tell them each time:

“Numbers make us look professional. A mad Laitivern rambling does not hold the same power unless occupied by his kin. Especially if he speaks their tongue.”

He would soon talk with the Oldsouls his next set of plans, to continue teaching the carvers how to sculpt armor, and to carve out more dens for the new alliances.. The Oldsouls at first seemed offended by the preposition. They lambasted him for getting distracted. He had always needlessly complicated everything with redundancy and risks. At first Veyolkos let them ramble on, insulting his plans and his reliance on historical enemies, and his cruel affection towards melting metal to crudely reshape it. He then snickered after they had their say, and wandered back to his den. But not without departing to them some words, his tone callous,

“I was not asking for permission, I was letting you know.”

Continuously during their scouting, Veyolkos would plunge deeper past their territories to find covens in the moonlight, gliding silently to learn of their language, and their magics. For his many years with the scroll of his first kill, it had yet to dawn on him what it could mean. But as he had gotten older, he had gotten wiser, and more keen to meaning and interpretation. And understanding the magics their enemies often used was part of the battle. Know the enemy, more than they know you. And as he grew to understand the runic languages, he’d return back to the roost. He would make sure armor was being made, weapons being carved, food being prepared and stored. He’d have the foragers learn to create new tonics and wrappings to aid the bouncers, and then he’d retreat to his den. Only to take the scroll out and reach the highest peak to study the writing. The humans were obsessed with things beyond them. They shared that, and yet as he came to rehearse the incantations, he understood the nature of the scrolls. To shape into something else. To shape into another form of beast. He held in this information, and seeing what needed to be done, he tucked it away into his den. And prepared for conflict. Afterall, blood was to be spilled.

----

It turned out a large group of mercenaries, slayers, and soldiers of the Winter’s Claw had made their trek to Wyrm’s Furnace to finally get the materials needed for their employers or clan. War is, in part, a business, and buyers have strict schedules and due dates. As they ventured towards Wyrm’s Furnace, they noted how quiet it was. The Freljord could be isolating and haunting, but even here the wind seemed only distant. And as they reached the edge of the treeline heading towards the clearing, four of them took a step too far to the right, and were suddenly plunged straight into the earth. Looking down at their comrades, all they found was the four impaled on spikes of carved cedar, bleeding out as they stared down at the bottom of the pit. As if on cue, bolts were fired at the encroaching band of hunters and mercenaries. Many mages put up barriers for them and their crew as they ran past the treeline, shields raised for those who did not have arcane energies protecting them. But the bolts had come high from the peaks, before a new wave set upon the encroaching men. These bolts were massive, more akin to ballista as they descended down, taking a seventeen more of the hunters, limiting their numbers. As they saw no Laitivern in the sky, many shouted for their fellow man to take cover, as they rushed for the massive jutting stones that surrounded the mountain. Many took bows or muskets and fired up where the shots were coming from, hoping to score some blows.

Then they heard something coming from where the Laitiverns roosted. An eerie, discordant hymn, and it felt like those at the base of the mountain were no longer alone. They all felt it: something has gone deeply and irreversibly wrong… and they needed to start running. As soon as they were going to reposition, they heard screeching as a great pack of raptors descended upon them. With the beasts’ strong back legs and jagged bills, a few more mercs fell before the raptors were ignited by the magics of the mage or the molten lead of muskets. And yet the raptors stayed firm, dragging people out into the opening clearing. Some of those people dragged out were able to down the beast with spears and axes, and as soon as they stood up to seek cover, they were pelted with boulders. Attacking the hunters now were Yetis, roaring and beating their chest as they grabbed clubs and warpaddles before charging in. Some of them, the smaller white haired primates, fell, but the elders stayed strong and crashed into their flank.

Retreating up, they soon were beset upon by Vellox, whose snow leopard print helped them camouflage into the mountain, as their human faces suddenly bared saber fangs as robust monstrous winged arms threw them towards the hunters, tussling with them as they scrapped on the steps of the Laitivern’s roosting site. Weapons striked against flesh with the same ferocity of claws and fangs sundering armor. The Vellox had ways to avoid a direct engagement, with some departing to blow onto their foes winter’s cold embrace, freezing them in place. Yet still Vellox would fall, but as they did the Raptors and Yetis charged from behind, hoping to take the hunter’s down with them if they could. And the hymn above became not some eerie whisper, but a chaotic cacophony being blown through the horn of a ram. Before a Vellox would climb onto a rock and chant, and as she began her most terrifying dirge, the roost erupted with the sound of metal and flapping wings.

The chaos that ensued was swift and brutal, as the Laitiverns defended their ancestral site with an unmatched ferocity. The hunters and mercenaries found themselves vastly outnumbered and overwhelmed as descending onto the group like a horde of wasps were the Laitiverns they had come to hunt. Many bolted for the treeline, running as the Laitivern’s armor blocked their shots, and they threw themselves towards the mages, dragging them away as more of their kin flew ahead of the humans, claws lowering as they lifted the men into the heavens, tearing them apart as they took the remains back to the roost. The ground shook beneath the clashing forces, and the air was filled with the sounds of battle cries, roars, and the piercing screeches of the Laitiverns. Many of those from The Winter’s Claw stood their ground, and those slayers were able to counter the aerial dives of the Laitiverns. Yet they didn’t expect to suddenly be confronted by the heavily armored form of Laitivern Bouncers, Yetis, and Vellox barreling down the mountain towards them. Nor the synchronized volleys of scales being thrown at them.

Veyolkos had expected a larger group, and though mildly disappointed at only two hundred something men, it made his job way easier. He soared through the sky, leading the foragers and his siblings in a coordinated attack. He darted through the air like a dark shadow, shedding his scales like a storm of glinting blades to lacerate and weaken their forces, before with the cold calculation and agility of a falcon in the dive to strike with deadly precision. And when he noted the flank they were striking was in disarray, he lunged for a sorceress clinging behind a rock for cover. He dived down again, tucking in his wings as he descended from a great height towards her. He angled himself to the side and spread out his wings, coasting down towards her with talons outstretched, seeing the hunter witch’s eyes widen as his talons enveloped her chest. As he nabbed her he flew towards the center of combat, letting loose a series of Styg projectiles onto the enemy to scatter their forces. It wouldn’t be long now till they either broke, or were devoured. So as he applied crushing pressure to her ribs within his grasp, he had to act quickly. He flew behind many a peak to hide his position, as he landed on his perch for which he had titled his study, harshly throwing her down.

He grabbed his scroll, and as he set the stone down on the edges of the scroll, she began to scream at him, of course. She had expected to hunt creatures a little above yetis in wit, not, whatever this armored beast was.

“What!? What the fuck are you planning?!”

He scoffed at her, making sure the seal skin scroll was secure as he turned to face her with a look of not pride nor indifference, but the look of a tiger caught stalking its quarry.

“The intellect I have can be gifted unto another. I refuse to see my society surrounded by witless animals.”

Now was her turn to scoff, as she leered at him with a mocking tone.

“Awwww… golden boy feels he’s wasted on chewing bones with the rest of his packmates-”

He slammed his bladed tail onto her with a sudden harshness, the woman hacking and wheezing as she felt her body crumple from the strike, as he approached her with way too much a casual stride, as he picked her up with his wing claws.

“Though river streams and hills grow steeper, man grows a little more shallow. What right do you have to try and belittle me, witless tool? You have come to slay, and now are to be slain. At least your death will merit some greater use!”

She squirmed in his hold, as he held her over the paper, the Laitivern chanting as she screamed for him to let go, a spell loading within her palm to smite the Laitivern. Veyolkos could see the runes begin to glow in her presence, and so he raised his other wing talon, aiming it at her neck, knowing to make it quick-

“I will give you the taste of the beast that you see in me!"

And in a sudden slicing movement she felt skin tear, then muscle, then a tingling warm pooling before her consciousness fled. And she coughed, though as her blood fell onto the scroll, and as it did she too began to fade, though slightly, as color fled from her skin and hair, her body a dull gray wash as the luminance from the pages poured into his chest. The new rush of energy was paralyzing at first, as he stumbled back, her form turning into mere ashes as they blew over his scales, branding his face in white stripes that ran down his nostril and under his eyes, branding some of the patterning in his wings. When he could finally move, he heard Yetis howling, Vellox roaring, and Laitivern’s trilling. He soon flew back to the scene below, as the many parties feasted on those who decided to experience a warrior's death. Veyolkos landed before them, breathing heavily from the exertion of the ritual. They seemed oblivious to what he had done, assuming him to have just been pursuing the marauders.

To his surprise, the Oldsouls and the Elders approached The Windrazor, their demeanor now changed. They had witnessed the rewards of his planning, and wordlessly bowed to him. He was dumbstruck by the wordless praise he had received. One of respect. His mother and father, having been in the fight, showed their throat to him, the highest level of trust and respect a laitivern could receive. He began to fidget in place, before broadening out his wings, and roaring to the crown a decree. A promise.

“THIS! THIS MARKS THE BEGINNING! TO AN AGE OF BEASTS!”

For now he had the skills gained to understand his enemy… far more intimately than before.

Veyolkos Kit:

Passive-Volatile Coating: The more damage he takes from Epic Monsters, Dragons, or Enemy Champs, the more his energy bar is filled. Once filled Veyolkos can charge his next attacks with draconic energy with increased movement speed for 3 seconds

Q - Voltaic Lunge: Veyolkos lunges towards a targeted location, knocking back any enemy champion or minion he collides with. Upon impact, a searing energy mark is left on the target, dealing physical damage.

W - Thousand Blades: Veyolkos sheds part of his armor for a brief moment, sending shards flying outward in all directions. These shimmering shards damage any enemy champions and minions they hit.

E - Evasive Maneuvers: With lightning speed, Veyolkos rapidly dashes away while releasing Styg energy forward, dealing additional searing damage if performed up close. From a distance, the Styg inflicts minor physical damage.

Ultimate - Flight of The Razorwing: Veyolkos takes to the skies, gaining enhanced mobility. During this time, his abilities undergo changes:

Voltaic Lunge becomes Thunderous Grapple, allowing him to tackle and immobilize a single enemy champion.

Thousand Blades transform into Draconic Cleave, a 360-degree tail swipe that damages all nearby enemies.

Evasive Maneuvers evolves into Laitivern's Dive, granting Veyolkos an arching leap with a powerful energy blast upon landing.

----

Aighty so physically he's gone like over... several hundred iterations. What remains consistent is the general build of Seregios, from the sharp scales, wing walking, and face. While also incorporating the more panthurine movement and tail slams of Nargacuga.

He's also gone through like several hundred actual redesigns, and while he started as just that: A flying wyvern capable of speech, he did evolve more into an analog to Throgg. And while Trundle is a legitimate troll king and is pretty sick, he more or less serves as a modestly competent himbo in a alliance with Lissandra. Veyolkos fills the roll of a cunning beast going through great lengths to ensure he has the means to play his cards correctly. He likes to innovate, he likes to build, but most importantly he likes to share that knowledge to elevate his people. But he also understands the sinister nature of his action, and how it spawned partially from necessity, but mostly through curiosity.

His own desire to stake out his claim and plunge Runeterra into an era of beast speaks to as sense of him wanting to elevate his people, and a naivety to the danger of his ambitions.

#league of legends oc #flying wyvern #bogbiter #I made him in the sims and he gravitated towards creating the mafia #character concept

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whump-kin · 7 days

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a visitor here

tysm to @just-a-silly-little-whumper for letting me write your guys interacting with mine!! i hope i captured elze'ith's personality well enough. i would kill for him. he wouldnt even have to ask id just do it

this is a noncanon crossover between cal (my lil dude) and their elze'ith, taking place a few hours after this (very good read!)

CWs: uncomfortable healing magic, blood, slight vomiting, implied past abuse.

Most people in Cal’s situation would have been delighted.

Whisked away from their cruel captor, enlisted into whimsical adventures with two monster hunters that had taken a liking to him. Traveling the land in search of a cure for his condition, the protection of two heroes by his side, who loved him like family.

Unfortunately, Cal happened to like being trapped in a gothic castle, serving the vampire who sired him. Whenever Bryn tried to talk to him about how his Lord saw him as little more than a possession, Cal replied it was nice to be wanted, and the conversation rather forcefully ended there.

Currently, he was justifying what he’d done by reassuring himself that this would surely, on some level, result in his return to the closest thing he had to a father. After all, he knew enough of the world to know that grace is often repaid, and what could be more of a gesture of goodwill than warning someone of their impending demise by way of vampire hunters?

He didn’t think too much about why he wanted to return. It made his body ache and filled his head with that exhausting fog, so he just ignored it and carried on. He needed to get home. To the castle. To his Lord.

And besides, if he’d learned anything from his Lord, it was that vampires of status spoke to one another. Correspondence, mostly. But they were always, always in touch.

That in mind, he’d crept through the door at what appeared to be just the right time. His Lord, after all, was well-known, if reclusive, and on his Lord’s status alone Cal had earned a place at a fine party.

He hated those sorts of affairs.

But still, it was one step closer to home. He felt a little out of place, tugging his shirt’s collar to keep it snug, sitting in a corner and watching everyone mingle.

These were his people, his kin, though by technicality he was little more than a child to them. Coasting on his Lord’s status, deflecting comments about how sad it was that his Lord sent a servant or how pitiful that he couldn’t come, and asking questions that got tiring after the first three rounds of faux-politeness.

People nudging him, pointing to Lord Denholm and his servant, saying he should live a little, when was the chance he’d have this opportunity again?

It was a miracle he’d been able to shut himself up in the corner. He never thought he’d miss being locked in a convent’s dungeon.

So when the guests left, and his gracious host waved him off to find somewhere to sleep, Cal was more than happy to scuttle away. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought to ask about where he could find something resembling guest quarters, and so he found himself wandering about darkened halls, trying not to be afraid.

And one room called to him. Back home, at the castle he longed to return to, he knew every room. Every corridor. But here he was afraid, flinching at every sound. So when one room had a door slightly open, a warm light emanating from it, he didn’t think to be afraid. All he saw was a place where he could at least get his bearings.

Slowly, he opened the door just wide enough to slip through. A bedroom, it seemed, large and well-kept. Composed like a painting, eyes leading him to the bed, and-

Oh.

It was the pretty thing. The one he’d seen while he shrunk away in the corner, the star of the show. Though from what Cal had seen, he didn’t seem to be entirely cognizant of that… or anything at all, really. He was under blankets, looking like he’d been tossed down and tucked in, and Cal immediately knew that he was very likely not supposed to be here.

That doesn’t stop him from taking a few steps further into the room, sleeping at the foot of the bed.

The man laying before him is ethereal, and Cal can’t quite work out if it’s because of his long white hair splayed out like a halo around him, pointy ears, and the way the half-moon scar traces around his eye like it’s trying to say something, or if it’s how he’s laying on the bed, looking like he’s been through hell and then some, the prettiest green eyes Cal has ever seen half-lidded and staring off into space.

He recognizes the look.

He chooses not to say anything.

Instead, he sits on the floor. Just so he’s in the man’s line of sight, back to the wall, staring.

He can wait.

After what feels like an eternity, when he’s counted every bauble on the shelves twice, the man’s eyes shift, locking onto Cal’s. He wasn’t good at reading people, but he was pretty sure that was a flicker of recognition. Not of knowledge, but Cal knew he’d probably been spotted among the many.

They stay like that for a bit, the elf’s eyes on him, Cal frozen like a statue as he tries to figure out what to do. Out of habit, his chest rises and falls, the only movement in his cold, dead body.

Eventually, he stands, but he’s not sure if that’s a choice he made or his body acting on its own. Cal takes the few short steps over to the bed, to stand over the elf, hand moving to hover over him slightly, twitching almost imperceptibly with a hunger he was still learning to suppress.

The man’s eyes looked up with a terror that was palpable, but the rest of his body exuded resignation. Cal hesitated. What would it have taken for someone else to look upon him like this?

(Had anyone… looked upon him like this? He would have been asleep. He had no way of knowing.)

He shook the thought from his head and doffed his glove. Pitying himself would get him nowhere. But pitying this one was a path forwards.

“Easy,” he mumbled, not really paying attention to what words fell from his mouth, just trying to break the painful silence. “I’m, um. I’m not here to hurt you. It’s okay.”

Shit. He wasn’t supposed to be here, doing any of this. He was supposed to be at the castle, reorganizing the library, cleaning the eternal mess of his own volition, napping in the moonlight. But no. He was here, and so he had to help this poor creature. And yet he couldn’t spit out more than a fragmented little sentence in an attempt to rid the elf of the muted panic.

At the glint of his fangs in the dim light, the elf seemed to resign himself to his fate, shifting around to uncover his arm from under the comforter, moving to expose his wrist. It took Cal a moment to realize the mistake, and in a panic, he used his gloved hand to press the elf’s arm and torso down, the other one over his neck.

In healing those used as feeding cattle, Cal had learned, the neck artery was the most important. It was fed on most often for a reason, so encouraging blood replenishment from there was the best place to start.

His hand fumbled for a second, before it found the fang marks he was looking for- apparently his gracious host habitually fed from a slightly different spot than Cal’s lord- and pressed his hand down, trying not to suffocate the poor thing.

A small scuffle ensued, before Cal got his footing and began to breathe. It was messy, it always was when they didn’t sit still like Bryn did, but as he mumbled the words the elf began to calm down, recognizing that this would not be an attack, not be whatever vile thing he was so accustomed to.

He simply settled down and let Cal heal him.

The process wasn’t always pretty. Cal’s magic, he’d been told, was potent, but not polished. His mana flowed from him with an intensity that healed the wounds, flowed from his mouth and hands to bind itself into the elf’s body. Cal closed his eyes, chanting quietly under his breath, feeling the warmth return under his hand, the flesh and veins knitting themselves together. From what he’d been told, returning blood to a body didn’t hurt, but it was a weird sensation. Almost itchy, but not quite. He felt the transfer of mana and energy flow through him, like a rush of water.

Unfortunately, the fact his magic was more powerful than it was delicate, and Cal opened his eyes at a choking sound, seeing blood leaking from the elf’s nose.

Shit.

Instinctively, Cal pulls him to a sitting position- he’s done this before, and he knows what’s next. Frantically, he looks around, but can’t find anything to catch it in time- shit. Fuck. Shit.

A cough, wide eyes, and suddenly there’s blood pouring onto the comforter, staining the white sheets red as he coughed up half a lungful of blood. Though… Cal could be wrong, but he swore he saw a flicker of pale teal in there- mana. That was bad.

“Okay. Hey. You’re good. Just- keep going. Nothing to worry about.” He lied, trying to be reassuring. “I just- too much of a good thing. Breathe.” He considers flashing a reassuring smile, but that seems like the opposite of helpful right now.

The elf sputters and coughs up blood until it’s gone, and while he’s taking shaky, panting breaths, Cal is staring at the comforter, which is very ruined. This is going to be a lot to explain to his host, he thinks.

“Hey. Uh. It’s- it’s okay. That happens. It’s all out now, right?” When he’s met with a nod, Cal exhales a breath he wasn’t even capable of holding.

“Who are you, anyways?” He’s careful to keep his voice calm, sharp, balanced. He’s shown enough weakness. He needs to gain control of the situation. But the prolonged silence is knocking him off-balance.

Eventually, the elf speaks. Even his voice is soft and ethereal, and he only says one word.

“Elze’ith.” His voice sounds scratchy, like he hadn’t used it in ages, though for all Cal knew that could be the blood in his throat. “Elze’ith.” Cal repeats. Another nod from the elf- Elze’ith- and Cal returns the gesture.

“I’m Cal. It’s nice to meet you.” Practiced politeness, from years of reading etiquette books, as well as his Lord’s tutelage when the man was in a more friendly mood. “How do you do?”

Elze’ith looks like he hadn’t felt anywhere near this good in ages. He also looked like he wasn’t quite sure where he was, what was happening, or why Cal was here. Understandable, really. From some of the things Cal had seen, some of the people he’d healed, this was a fairly good reaction to such an extreme change of bodily health.

“I’m a guest,” Cal clarified. “Just for a little bit. Just until I can go home.”

The silence remained, so Cal fidgeted, removing the comforter. He pulled the large quilt that sat at the foot of the bed over Elze’ith, before looking at the comforter he’d dumped on the floor. Frankly, it was unrecoverable. Even if magic was used in the washing, it’d stain. He decided to fold it up, setting it in a corner and ignoring the whole issue.

He felt green eyes upon him as he sighed, moving back to the bedside, where he met the man’s gaze. Fidgeting again, he took it upon himself to fill the silence. If Bryn or Sh’han had been here, they’d know what to do. He kicked himself internally for abandoning them. Sure, he needed to return home, and they’d just have likely killed his host, but they would know what to do in this situation. They wouldn’t leave these long, empty silences.

“Feeling okay?” Cal asked. Bryn would probably ask that. “I, um, saw you back there. You didn’t look happy.

Elze’ith settled back into the plush pillows on the bed, looking skeptical. So this was how it felt. Cal was far more used to being in the other situation, near-catatonic and having to be taken care of. It just looked like this elf was a lot less stubborn than he was. He was almost thankful for it.

“Okay.” A pause. “You… live here?” A small, tired nod was given in response. That was getting somewhere. Bryn asked people questions about their situation a lot. It seemed to help.

“Do you like living here?”

A sharp shake of the head, and then one of Elze’ith’s hands went up to support his head, before Cal gently pushed him down, resting the elf’s head on the pillows. He wanted to ask ‘why not’, or more details about the situation, because he hadn’t seen anything like this from his Lord- at least, not that he could remember- but they seemed to be on a yes/no question basis, so Cal simply settled himself with another question.

“You’re alive, right? Not like me?”

The nod came slower. ‘Could you call this living?’ the elf’s eyes seemed to say, and Cal shrugged internally. He could ignore the pang of emotion in his stomach.

“That’s good. I… my Lord doesn’t keep ones like you. I don’t know why anyone would. It just seems cruel.” Cal talks as he begins to stalk across the room, fretting over something. He wants to help, but he isn’t sure how. After a moment, he remembers something, and rushes back to get his glove again. “I’m trying to go home to him. I could… I could take you. He’s nice. He could make you like me.” More silence.

“It’s not life, but it’s freedom. Or, I…” Cal sits on the bed. If he was in this situation, he’d hate being talked to like this, he knows that for sure. But he can’t stop himself. He knows he should shut up, he should have left the moment he saw Elze’ith in the room, and yet, and yet and yet he cannot. It infuriates him.

“I left them behind to come here. But I have friends. Friends who kill monsters. Maybe… maybe once I am returned, I could send them a letter. Tell them of you.”

He trails off, trying to stop himself from talking. A warmth touches him, then. A hand.

Cal knows better than anyone the hollow aches these promises leave behind. They’re impossible to fulfill, at least in his experience. But the pleasant feeling of making them, of having something sweet to believe in for a little while… he could indulge it. Pretend, for a little bit, that this was possible. That these were more than sweet lies that would dissolve into sugar water eventually. False hope was better than none at all, right?

“I could stay here,” Cal offers, “if you’d like. On the floor, beside you.” It’s like nothing to offer- he’s used to doing it, after all. Though, there is a pang of guilt in his heart. After all, he’s only doing this because he prefers to sleep near someone, and prefers to hold a hand while he does. He chokes out his next sentence before he can stop it.

“Hold your hand so if anything happens, I’ll be alerted.” Elze’ith pauses.

“That would be nice.”

Cal lights up visibly, and before he can stop it, a genuine smile spreads across his face. Elze’ith had spoken again! It made him… it made him feel proud.

“I haven’t had anyone to cook for properly since I was taken from my Lord. Maybe I’ll make you something tomorrow. And then… we can figure something out. I promise.” When he says it, he almost believes it.

#ponkn writes #whump #caretaker: cal #whumpee: cal #<- it's implied some of his past stuff + for sorting #other's ocs: elze'ith #other's ocs: lord denholm #(by mention once)#other's ocs: bryn #(by mention a few more times)#ask to tag

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melissa-titanium · 8 months

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AWOOOO!!! hey there, i'm mel.

there are some blinkies below the cut, so be careful if you are sensitive to them ^u^

TAG GUIDE :)

#mel roars = RAMBLE TAG! I TALK ABOUT DUMB SHIT ON HERE LAWL :3 #mel art = ART TAG !!!!! INCLUDES DOODLES AND UNCOLORED STUFF AND THE LIKE :3 #melissa titanium OR #dracotalon = TAG FOR TALKING ABOUT MY MAIN SONAS MELISSA!!! CONTAINS ART OF THEM AND LORE DUMPS! #loredump = TAG FOR MY HEAD WORLD !

INFO :)

any pronouns! i love neos. when in doubt, he/it/she. just have fun, be silly. i am a therian/otherkin! my kintype is dragon and my theriotype is wolf. i am asexual, and personally do not care for suggestive humor. i won't be upset if you use it around me! but i just don't really think it's all that funny. i like selfship. if you're a selfship blog i loooove youuu!!!!!!!!!! i hope you have a super awesome day!!!!!!!! i unfortunately usually go to sleep around 1-2 am gmt-4. i'd stay up all day and night if i were allowed!!! please don't be upset if i suddenly stop replying, it's not intentional :( i talk literally NOTHING like how i'm talking right now. i swear a lot and more often than not my sentences are incomprehensible. if you struggle to read what i'm saying, don't be afraid to ask me to repeat :D dm's always open. i don't bite! but i am slow with responses, sadly.

INTERESTS :)

HOMESTUCK (classpecting, pepsicola, etc. i love egbert if you couldn't tell) RAIN WORLD (gourmand) MONSTER HUNTER (i main gs, hammer, and sns :D) therians/otherkin golden treasure: the great green spiderverse guidestuck / hiveswap httyd

OTHER SOCIALS :)

toyhou . se : melissa_titanium discord : melissatitanium1111 art fight : melissa_titanium anyone can friend my discord :)

yeah!!!

OK. that's all you guys need (not really need, no one NEEDS) to know about me. maybe i'll drop a kin list later. who knows.

#mel roars #pinned

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tatzelwyrm · 1 year

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I've been pining over how perfect the aesthetics of Bloodborne are for years. I can't believe I hesitated to play it until now because internet memes made me think I wouldn't be good enough to enjoy it.

What an experience this was.

This game scratched so many itches. It scratched all the itches.

It's got The Most™ setting:

Cosmic Horror in a non-modern, non-sci-fi setting

Fantasy with early modern firearms

Plot centered around a bloodborne curse that turns everyone into blood-drunk beasts and there's a lot of blood drinking and blood transfusions and blood in general, but it's not about vampires

No vampires

But werewolves

So many werewolves

Set in a decaying, once great metropolis (think Victorian London but more apocalyptic)

NO VAMPIRES

Moon's haunted

and Themes:

The thing that strengthens you is irreversibly changing you, body and mind.

Blood (blood as power, blood as a means of healing, blood as a carrier of corruption and disease)

Moon's haunted.

Monster hunters slowly and inevitably turning into monsters.

Scholars pulled on too many threads of reality until it became unravelled. Leading to:

Morally orange-and-blue Great Ones who just do normal Great Ones things and don't understand or care that their effects on humanity are horrifying

Panacea revealed to be a curse

The Veil™ being ripped from your eyes, allowing you to see behind The Facade™

Themes tied into game mechanics and vice-versa, e.g.: The more insight (about the world/the truth/the moon) you have, the more vulnerable you are to certain effects and some mobs will have crazier abilities and you will hear the song more clearly and you will get to see THEM early.

Lighting lamps

Reflections (in dreams, in nightmares, in mirrors, in water, in a doll)

Holy Church associated with Light and Healing is actually a Corrupt Church Ruining Everything for Everyone because of curiosity and lust for power. Leading to:

Clergy involuntarily, painfully turning into beasts

MOON'S HAUNTED!

Something something moon phases and blood and conception and ascension through (re-)birth and female monsters

and the Aesthetics:

Street lamps and cast iron fences and broken church windows

Everybody's wearing cute hats and embroidered vests and long coats and capes...

or tattered nazghul robes

Tentacles!

Moon phases

Eyes where eyes shouldn't be

Haunted Gothic Horror Castle! Haunted Gothic Horror Castle!

Tattered ghostly black driverless horse-drawn carriage taking you to Haunted Gothic Horror Castle!

Snakes growing out of headless people's empty neck holes

Crow lady with plague doctor mask

Spear guns and hand cannons and swords that turn into hammers and the lollipop saw

So many eyes

Fluffy deer-dog beasts!

Laurence, where is your skull?

Laurence, where did your legs go?

Laurence

So many distinct but beautiful designs for the Great Ones and their kin

Moon Presence goes brrrr.

Moon's haunted.

Graceful and fluffy ethereal millipede

The Mad Ones' whole anime demon aesthetic

The final boss fight(s) take(s) place in a field of white moon flowers, under the blood moon.

... and the rest:

Cthulhu death laser

The brain juice lady

The lake is upside down. That's why you can't see the moon.

If you raise the staircase, the level layout changes.

Dude's a horse now.

#bloodborne #bloodborne spoilers #faves #video games #im absolutely feral about this game #i have NEVER seen anything like it #there is NOTHING else like it #it's so beautiful

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animatorweirdo · 3 months

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The Three Hunters

Maglor learns a little of your past. You get hunted by three vicious creatures of the night.

Warnings: mentions of violence, getting hunted, nearly getting killed, injuries, bleeding, ripping off skin, killing, breaking bones, hunting, falling into a river, and falling out of consiousness.

Chapter 11

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Maglor quietly walked through the corridor, his footsteps nearly as silent as a mouse's. A scroll rested beneath his arm as he stopped in front of a door, the entrance to the shared living quarters between you and Camilla, or as you liked to call it, an apartment.

He knocked on the door, and it wasn't long till Camilla opened it and looked at him.

"Hey, did you bring the map as I asked?" she asked.

"Yes. I have it right here," Maglor held the map toward her. "Great. Come in," She grabbed the map and left the door open for him. Maglor walked through and respectfully closed it behind him.

Camilla laid the scroll on the table and rolled it open, revealing a nap of Himring and all the lands around it. She then grabbed a wooden pen and stared at the map.

"So, where did you find the orc camp?" she asked, focusing on the map. "Here— near the mountainsides and the forest," Maglor pointed at the spot where he found the camp.

"Alright..." Camilla circled the location of the camp. "And you said (Name) had left dragging marks when she turned. Where did they lead?"

"To somewhere south -- here," he pointed out.

"Hmm..." Camilla hummed as she drew an arrow, then began analyzing the map, drawing lines and marking areas while muttering under her breath.

Maglor watched, feeling somewhat useless as she worked on her own.

Camilla then stood up and used her wooden pen to point. "Based on the beast's usual hunting habits. (Name) should be somewhere around these parts, where there are more trees to give her cover and more fools who might end up there, " she explained while pointing out where you should be. Maglor hummed in response. "I know from reports those parts of the land are infested with orcs, so I think we will be spared from other casualties," he said. "Well, be happy. She's doing some free purging for you," Camilla said rather sarcastically.

"However, since she's not familiar with those lands. The beast might move her elsewhere, but if these grounds provide her enough prey— she might stay. " Camilla explained. "I know the kin of that beast prefer to eat their prey in desolated places and telling from the number of orcs. It might take hours till the sunrise," she answered.

"I'll go look for her at dawn. You can come along too if you have the time," she said.

"Can I ask something?" Maglor questioned. "What?" Camilla asked back.

"Has (Name) ever accidentally taken lives as a beast?" he asked.

Camilla stayed quiet for a moment, thinking about her answer. "Only three— hunters that came to take her life, though it was not accidental," she answered. Maglor frowned. "Hunters? What do you mean by that?" he asked. "I mean exactly what you are thinking," she sighed irritatedly.

"In our world, we have a supernatural society consisting of creatures from all across the world, adapted to live among humans, unnoticed and not harming anyone since we have strict laws," Camilla started. "However! We also have humans who know of the supernatural's existence and refuse to live peacefully with them, hunters, who see supernaturals as nothing but non-human monsters, even when they have never committed a crime in their whole life," she explained. "They have a mindset that is still trapped in the ideas and beliefs that are thousands of years old, right back to the dark ages when supernaturals used to be aggressive toward humanity and everything. Because of this, they cause more trouble and deaths than a feral ghoul living alone in a desolated cave,"

"If you're anything but a human— you are pound to have a target on your back for the rest of your life," Camilla looked him in the eyes.

"The other beasts like (Name) are especially dangerous and extremely difficult to hunt, so you can probably imagine what kind of opportunistic assholes would come for (Name)," she said. Maglor listened with a troubled expression on his face.

"(Name) went on a walk one day, using a forest path near my family's compound. It was a common path for joggers and trekkers, so my family wasn't worried about letting her walk there alone, but then those three hunters arrived, ambushed her, and prepared to kill her on the spot," Camilla said. "Luckily, (Name) had not yet finished learning to control her emotions and keep a calm mindset. In a deep state of panic and fear, she had turned and managed to fight them off. Two of them she killed quickly, and the third one died from severe injuries after she ran away," she explained.

Maglor thought about the whole thing, imagining how afraid you must have been to get nearly killed by your own kin.

"We managed to capture her and turn her back before she could do further damage, but ever since that incident. We had not dared to leave her alone even at the safe premises of our own home," Camilla stated, but then Maglor intervened. "But isn't (Name) still a human? Why would the hunters target her if their task is to hunt monsters?" he asked.

"She is very much a human. The curse doesn't change that, but in the hunter society's eyes —she is a monster that should be exterminated with no ifs or buts," Camilla answered.

"Because of that, not many others like her manage to live long enough to see the day when a cure or a way to get rid of the curse could be invented, since those assholes won't leave them alone," she said with anger.

"And that was not even the first time when (Name) had to deal with a hunter assassination attempt. The second time, they got someone else to do it for them and nearly succeeded," she said quietly.

Maglor looked at her, paling at the thought.

"Succeeded? What happened?" he hastily asked.

Camilla took a breath and stayed quiet for a moment. "(Name) took a blunt hit to the chest from a shotgun, seriously injuring her. She nearly died on the spot because the shotgun shells were laced with pure silver, which made the frost breath unable to heal her," she answered.

"Pure silver can either kill or seriously injure a supernatural being, especially all the corrupted ones. The frost breath was unable to heal the wounds, but they luckily sustained her life long enough for us to get her to the hospital," she added.

"They withered when she was taken to the operation room. If we had been seconds too late — she would have died,"

Maglor stood in silence, filled with dread at the thought of you being at death's door. Sorrow overwhelmed him as he contemplated the hardships that had filled your life even before your arrival in Middle Earth.

"One thing about pure silver is that It cannot kill a spirit like the one inside (Name)’s body. Only fire can do that so that ordeal would have been nothing but a murder attempt," Camilla said.

"I... did not know," Maglor uttered.

"And that was something I should not be telling you," Camilla walked up to him while glaring at him. "If you ever dare to use silver on her or cause her any type of pain. I will ensure it will be the last thought you will ever have, and you never have to worry about fulfilling any oath. I don't give a damn if you're a prince or an important figure because I will do it without hesitation," she said threateningly.

Maglor stood back by her stand. "I'll promise you that I will never do anything that could hurt her," he held his hand against his heart in a promise. "Promises mean nothing unless you truly stick to them. With a background like yours— I have my doubts," she replied. Maglor stood silent as he knew what she was hinting at.

Camilla exhaled tiredly. "Go to sleep. I'll go look for her in the morning," she walked out of the room.

Maglor stood there silently before grabbing the map and leaving silently. He made sure not to cause any noise to disturb her when closing the door and walked away with nothing but thoughts and sorrow over the new information about your life. He remembers you mentioned you did not have an easy life, but you did not mention it was that difficult. He couldn't nearly comprehend it. Why would you be punished for something you had no control over? The curse wasn't your fault.

He didn't know the details, but one thing he was certain of once you returned, he would ensure to show his support and promise that you wouldn't have to live in fear and suffer ever again.

The bones break in your mouth, crunching and twisting as you munch on the rotten flesh of an orc. Displeased sounds emitted from you as the taste did not please you.

Remains of the orcs you hunted down surrounded you, ripped into pieces and rotting against the ground. Your forever-driving hunger having cleaned them of the flesh that was up to your taste.

Three giant bats leaned over the cliff, silently observing you. They emitted silent hisses to each other before slowly approaching you, sneaking up close and carefully not to alert you of their presence. One of them prepared to fly, ready to catch you by surprise and plunge its teeth upon you.

You stopped eating when you heard faint heartbeats and looked behind you, locking your eyes with them.

The bats shrieked and attacked, plunging toward you faster than the wind.

You rolled away to avoid the first, but then you were surprised by another who jumped out of the shadows and bit down on your shoulder. A scream ripped through your throat as you tried to grab the beast off your shoulder, only to be surprised by the third bat that bit down on your arm.

You struggled and screamed as blood began to pour down from your shoulder and arm through the bat's mouth, your blood. The giant bats pushed you down with their strength, holding a powerful grip that made it difficult for you to escape.

The bats began to drink your blood, making you feel faint and weak, so in quick thinking— you grabbed onto the bat on your arm and bit through its thick hide with your sharp teeth. The bat screamed, pulling away while you held on to its neck. You stubbornly held till the bat pulled hard enough for you to tug back and rip the hide off its body.

The bat shrieked as it flew away with a bleeding neck, giving you the chance to stand up and grab the second bat off your back by its face. You harshly plunged it off as your claws of ice pierced through its face, throwing the creature to the ground.

You staggered momentarily. You licked the wound on your arm, then licked your hand to rub saliva on the wound upon your neck. The bleeding ceased, and your saliva froze quickly from the cold emitted from your body, letting it glow against your skin like frost.

You noticed the first bat coming back. A furious growl came through your teeth. You then ran into the forest, disappearing from the scene.

The bat landed beside the second bat, checking its companion's injuries before glancing at the third bat that lay dead on the ground after bleeding to death from the ripped-open neck.

The bat growled in anger and motioned its last living companion to follow and give chase to their target.

The two giant bats flew through the forest, gliding past the trees and carefully looking through the mist and everything that moved on the ground. One of them let out an ear-piercing scream that echoed through the forest. The echo returned everything it touched, including a fast movement in the shadows.

The nocturnal beasts looked around, trying to locate their target. However, their target was moving so fast that it felt like there was another circling them. It confused them as they could hear it everywhere.

The first bat screamed again in anger, trying to pinpoint their target. It did not notice its companion getting snatched by a shadow. It finally realized when it heard its companion's shrieks of terror and pain.

The bat looked out for its friend, trying to call out to it but received no response. It did manage to locate its friend after the echo returned to the location of its friend's body.

The bat landed on a branch and stared at the body of its friend, lying on the ground, unmoving and in a strange position. The bat's nose smelled blood and it knew its friend was dead. The beast whined mournfully before feeling something drop on its head.

It saw pine needles and even a pinecone drop on its head before looking up and seeing you crouching on the branch above it. You screamed and jumped on the bat. The giant bat shrieked as your fall on it caused the branch to break, forcing it to take flight with you on top of it.

The bat tried to shake you off as you clawed and bit on its back. You then pulled hard on one of its leathery wings, causing the bones to crack and the bat to scream— making you both fall from the air.

You both fell hard against the ground. The impact sent you flying off the bat. You rolled against the ground back on your feet while glaring at the bat that recovered from the fall.

The bat stumbled on its balance. It looked at its now broken wing and then roared at you. It bounced on you, pushing you against the ground, only for you to push it back with equal strength. You two ended up in a violent wrestling match, biting and clawing at each other till blood fell from both of you.

You both failed to notice a cliff approaching while fighting each other. When the bat pushed you off, you growled and then ran toward it, slamming yourself against it hard and unintentionally, pushing it and yourself over the cliff.

You both fell from the cliff toward a flowing river below, still at each other's throats. Your fight soon ended when you splashed into the water, the violent current separating you from each other and tossing you against the bottom.

You struggled and tried to grab onto anything to gain balance, but then your head struck something hard, making you go numb and stop moving. Your vision darkened as your body moved along with the current, your mind falling out of consciousness.

#tolkien #silmarillion x reader #middle earth x reader #silm fic #middle earth #maglor #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #maglor x reader #maglor x human reader #cursed reader #modern reader #the spring heart's bloom

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