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idksmtms · 3 months

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You Are Not One Of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 4

Full Request Part 2

AN: There will have to be another couple of parts probably because I have the bad habit of writing way too much for the smallest things. :)

Summary: After so long apart, you and Poseidon meet in dire circumstances. It leads to a news neither of you expected.

Word count: 5,125

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, lusting, p in v s*x, oral f receiving, desperate sex, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

The battle of the Draugr came unexpectedly. A large-scale monster attack was rare in the new world, and it could not be allowed to occur for the chaos it would cause in the human world. You were not often called to handle things anymore. After the Olympus incident you had distanced yourself from all the other gods. You stayed in your cabin or wandered the world on your own, watching love and war blossom. You had no interest in the affairs of the Aesir anymore and they came to realise it. You barely attended feasts after the first few years in the aftermath and slowly no one began to bother to call on you for events in the world of the divine. But this was too big for anyone but you to handle. You were still the greatest fighter of the Norse world, the goddess of war, and this outpouring of Draugr on some beach somewhere could be handled by no one else.

You had been sitting atop one of the fjord cliffs you still loved visiting, swinging your legs over the edge and feeling the breeze come off the sea when one of your father’s ravens came to you. It was panicked, nipping lightly at your hands so you would pay attention to the message it had for you. An army of Draugr had risen from the sand and laid waste on a beach in the new world. It was usually a crowded place, but after the slaughter had begun it was now deserted and housing this army. The mist had covered it as some random violent attack, but people were dying, and it could not be left to stand.

You dressed for battle, tying your hair back and sliding your sword into the scabbard at your waist before travelling to this beach. You were surprised to see the legion of Draugr prowling the beach. While it was not an army like the raven had suggested - in actual fact a centuria - it was still a huge amount to take on by yourself. You were apprehensive to engage when you appeared on the beach, counting out each of them.

When your presence was finally noted, it was a swarm attack. You were swift with your blade, cutting them down as soon as they were within reach. Some simply disintegrated from your power, radiating from you and burning away the few that managed to come close and avoid your blade. But it was quickly becoming tiring. There were so many of them and only one of you. You were backed up toward the waterline, swinging your sword and cutting away another group. There were only a few left, but your arms were beginning to tire and your reactions were getting sloppier. Your power had dissipated after the initial bursts, and the Draugr were closing in. One managed to swipe claws against your arm, its dead limbs moving surprisingly quickly. A large gash began dripping blood down your arm and you cried out, pushing through the pain to finish the last of the creatures, watching as they turned to dust, mixing with the sand.

Through all the fighting, you hadn’t realised you were pushed into the water. Your feet were wet, sinking into the sand with the swish of each wave. Water splashed onto your calves, drenching your dress and plastering it to your legs. You stared down into the water, murky around your feet. You watched the swish of each wave, the shadows that danced atop the water, and warmth began to creep up your feet, through your legs. You felt it touch your very soul, caress it gently. Your entire body felt soft and rested, warm and safe. You dropped your sword, sending it back to your cabin with half a thought, and examined your arm. The gash was gone, smooth skin stitched back up. You touched it lightly, marvelling at the lack of a scar. You healed quickly as a god, but not this quickly. You curled your toes in the sand, sighing happily when you heard a splash behind you.

Your heart stopped. You knew who it was. You began to tremble. You didn’t want to turn around. What if it wasn’t him and you were imagining this feeling? You would be shattered with disappointment to turn and find nothing. What if the moment didn’t live up to everything you had imagined? What if he were disappointed to see you? What if, what if, what if? Your hands shook and the splashing neared, as if someone was taking long steps through the water to reach you. Tears burned at your eyes, a tingle building under your skin, in your hands. Slowly, as if you were fighting for every movement, you began to turn around, chest heaving with every breath, every concealed sob. You blinked quickly, hoping to dispel the tears, and then there he was.

He was… everything. He was beautiful, as majestic as the day you had first seen him. Broad shouldered and tall, strong arms and a thick beard. You gasped in a breath, a lump at the back of your throat. His hair was combed back but still curled slightly over his forehead, kept a little longer than when you had been together so many years ago. His eyes were so blue, piercing and matching the ocean. They were stormy, so many emotions warring inside them, soft yet conflicted. His face was pained, eyebrows pinched together slightly and mouth pursed. He wore clothes of linen, white loose pants and a blue button-up shirt. He looked like he lived at the beach, and you loved it, loved the way he looked in modern fashion.

He was right in front of you now, only one large stride away, and you stared up into his face. Your eyes were so full of tears he was blurred but you didn’t care, blinking as much as you could so they fell down your cheeks but cleared your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, cheeks shaking as you tried to suppress your sobs and failed. You wouldn't believe it. You couldn’t. You couldn’t believe that he was right there, standing right in front of you after the countless years you had been forced apart, not even a glimpse of one another.

He was dry despite having walked out of the sea, and he reached out and gently stroked down your arm with his index finger. You began sobbing like a hysterical child, body shaking as you moved forward and fell onto him. Your sobs were almost screams, little high-pitched sounds being squeezed out of you like someone pressing the sack of a bagpipe as hard as they could. He gathered you up in his arms, pressing you to his chest and dropping his head against yours. He pressed his face to your hair, inhaling shakily. You pressed yourself to him as much as you could, wrapping your arms around his torso and holding so tight that he found it slightly difficult to breathe. Your fingertips pressed into his firm muscles, gripping him tight because you didn’t know if he would disappear if you let go. You cried into his chest, sobbing and wetting his shirt with your tears. He was so warm, cocooning you in his arms. You almost wrapped yourself around him like moss on a tree-root and he just squeezed you as much as he could, hands splayed over your back. He was so strong, like an oak tree in your arms, and you cried even harder. Years and years of living off of an occasional message, of only imagining what he looked like, whether he had decided to completely change the way he looked and you would have no way of knowing. Every night you pressed the conch shell to your ear, promising yourself that you would never forget what he sounded like. You had imagined what it would be like to meet him again countless times. You had spent hours contemplating the moment, but it was far more intense than you had expected, almost debilitating.

Both of you stood there clinging to each other for a long time. Neither of you wanted to risk letting go lest the other disappear. If either of your grips began to loosen even slightly the other would grip tighter, shaking their head as if they couldn’t bear it. It was only after your sobs had subsided and the only sound was the ocean water sloshing around your legs that you slowly began to peel away from each other, just enough to be able to look into each other’s eyes while still keeping some type of grip on each other’s bodies. Poseidon leaned down and kissed you, a firm kiss with warm lips and salt from your tears. His lips were so soft and pillowy and you gripped his face, pushing yourself against his mouth even harder. He kissed you so urgently that you had to force yourself away to gasp for breath. He gave you a moment before kissing you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Another long while passed while both of you kissed, desperate and grappling each other.

The kisses eventually began to slow down and you slowly pulled away from him once more, eyes closed and chest heaving. You panted for a few moments, staring up at his face as your breaths escaped from you. He watched you in return, eyes almost feral as if he still couldn’t quite believe you were here, in his arms, and neither of you had been suddenly destroyed for breaking the rules.

“Poseidon,” you whispered, and he almost melted into your arms. It was sweeter than any music the muses could possibly conjure. To hear your voice utter in his name, just to hear your voice… he kissed you again.

“Y/n,” he breathed against your mouth. You could feel his lips move, form the letters of your name, and you caressed his cheeks, moved your hands to the nape of his neck and dug them into his hair. You nodded, mouths and noses rubbing together. You pressed your chest and stomach to him, slightly uncomfortable from squishing your breasts, but you didn’t care.

“Yes,” you sighed, pressing your mouth to his and just standing there. If you could crawl into his skin you would. He whispered something but you didn’t understand what, his voice too quiet, lips too squashed, to decipher whatever it was. You just nodded, tears filling your eyes again.

“You’re here,” you mumbled, voice clogged, and you pressed kisses along his cheeks, over his nose, any piece of his face you could reach.

He gripped your face tight in his hands and pulled it away, staring at you for a moment as if he truly didn’t believe you were there. He looked almost alarmed, as if he had imagined you enough times in the past and been disappointed that you hadn’t been there. You just smiled a watery smile, giggling and sniffling and nodding in his grip, whispering assurances.

“I’m here,” you sighed happily, “we’re here.”

Poseidon gripped your waist and hoisted you into the air. You squealed, loud and high, and he just laughed as he lugged you into his arms like a sack of potatoes. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his shoulders, as he adjusted to grab your ass with both hands and keep you hoisted against him. He began walking into the ocean, laughing as you squealed at the cold water washing over you. He stopped when both of you were submerged, when your toes could no longer touch the floor and you had to grip him to stay afloat. He kissed you once more, taking one of his hands from your behind and reaching up to wipe away the wet hair from your face.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered, and you obeyed as he began to walk even further into the ocean. He walked until both of you were submerged in the water and he kept walking until the surface was far above you and the last dregs of sunshine were all that illuminated your face. You could breathe once more, immersed in not only his domain but his power. He didn’t let you go, just held on tighter as if you would now try to swim away, but you kissed him with all your might, pressing your tongue into his mouth and rubbing your hands along the nape of his neck. He groaned into your mouth, licking against your tongue and caressing your back. There was so much to say, so much to do, but all of that could wait a little longer. The world could wait for as long as both of you had.

It was suddenly hot under the water, as if your bodies had begun to boil it around you, and you hurried to pull away from him and begin tugging at the buttons of his shirt. You popped the first two open, but the third proved slightly more challenging and he let you go to grab your hands. You floated close to him, kept there by whatever power he wielded against the currents, and you huffed impatiently. He just smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to your mouth before fully unbuttoning his shirt, and slipping it off of his shoulders. You stared at his chest, his stomach, at the thick muscles that corded his arms and the ridges and valleys of his abdomen. You reached out and gently ran your fingers over them, and he shivered at the tickle of your fingertips. Poseidon swallowed and reached out to gently begin pulling the left strap of your dress away from your skin and down your arm. He did the same with the other and pulled it down your body. Your chest heaved as he exposed it, your stomach quivered as it came into view, and you clenched your thighs together as the dress finally slipped away and floated off of your feet. He caressed the underside of your breasts with his thumbs, slowly moving his hands to grip them in his palms. You sighed softly, the sound verging on a whimper, and he rubbed his thumbs against your nipples, pressing the hard little buds and rolling them around. You leaned forward slightly into his hands, reaching up and gripping onto his arms. He kissed down your neck, open-mouthed kisses that you could feel left saliva on your skin even under the water.

“You are perfect,” he whispered, then gently encased a nipple in his mouth, pinching his lips together around it and sucking until you keened loudly and dug your nails into his arms at the tightness. He bit at it gently, sparks flying under your skin, through your breast and into your stomach, straight to your core. You puffed and panted as he moved away from your breast, kissing down the valley and over your stomach. His hands returned to your breasts, squeezing and massaging as he pressed kisses into the flesh of your stomach. He roamed from side to side, rubbing his beard into the sensitive skin just to feel you shiver, to feel your stomach pulse against his face at every little action that he performed. He was desperate for you, feral and starved.

You bent forward, resting one hand on his back as he kissed down to your waist and then lower. Your high-pitched squeal was clear even under water. A straight note that carried through the water. He licked between your folds, delving his tongue as far forward as it would go. The roughness of his taste buds rubbed against your clit, saliva slipping over your folds and the tip of his tongue gently curling against your entrance before it pulled back into his mouth once more.

It was like you weren’t underwater. You could feel the drip of his saliva, feel the wetness leaking out of you and coating your thighs. He lapped at you like a dog with a water bowl, messy and unrelenting. You quivered and fell entirely onto his back, face pressed to his skin as he spread your legs and hoisted you higher so his face could properly be at level with your core. His nose pressed into the skin just above your clit and you could feel his top lip move against it as he licked at you, delved his tongue inside you. He pressed it in as far as it would go, tasting you, and you quivered, feeling full and empty all at once. The rub of his tongue against your walls was pure heaven and torture.

He devoured you like an animal, like a starved man, like a beast unleashed on its prey. The pleasure in you rose and rose and rose. Your limbs were jelly, your insides sparking like an exposed wire near water, and your screams grew louder and louder. It was a quick tightening in your belly, a sudden increase in pressure with nowhere to go. The balloon popped, the peak of the mountain reached, and you screamed into his back, pressing your teeth into it. Your legs shook like leafs in a storm. Your hands clenched so hard your wrists began to hurt. But he didn’t stop. He kept licking and sucking, even as you began to whimper and whine and tried to pull away from him. He kept pressing his lips to your clit, sucking it and running his teeth over it until you came again, trembling in his arms.

As you lay panting against his back, brain empty, he kissed each of your thighs once, twice, then moved you to lay in his arms. You were limp, letting him move you how he wanted with a dreamy smile on your lips. He brought you lower until he could wrap your legs around his waist and your face was pressed close to his. Your legs just barely held onto him, but he was moving quicker now, the same desperation as before climbing back through his bones. He held onto his cock and pressed the tip to your entrance. You panted against his shoulder and he pressed until it had breached your entrance and pushed through the initial resistance. You gasped, twitching as he glided through, as the skin and protruding veins rubbed against your walls. You pressed harder against him, forcing your hips to fully meet his and grinding yourself against him. You were… full. Every part of you felt full. A pressure had built under your skin and you couldn’t keep still, couldn’t stop until you felt the drag of his cock against your insides. He granted your wish, pulling his hips back and pushing in again. You pressed your mouth to his, kissing him ravenously, tongues rubbing and teeth clashing painfully. His hips worked harder.

“My darling, my wife” he moaned into your mouth, and it pierced your brain. You moaned in reply, so loud that it probably echoed outside of the water.

You were his wife. You were his wife. You were his wife. You had been married, it had been real. His promises, his words, they were all real.

“My love, my husband!” You keened in his ear, allowing him to take control of all the movements as you lay prone on his chest, wrapped in his arms as he pistoned his hips in and out of you. His growls and moans were more feral than you had ever heard them. Your core was sensitive and sparking, sending your entire body quivering. The end came upon you too quickly. One second you were cresting, the next you were wrecked with pleasure, ears ringing and eyes rolled back into your head. You could see nothing, just sparks of gold and silver behind your eyes. You could feel nothing but the warmth and tingles under your skin. You didn’t have a body, you were just floating through space and time, a concentrated mass of pleasure.

Through the onslaught of senses, you could feel him spurt inside you, feel his cock twitch and fill you until it dripped out of you. It kept going until his cock slipped out of you, spent and unable to cling to your walls with how slick they had become. Your core clenched as if in reminiscence, missing the feeling of being filled to the brim. You clenched your eyes shut for a moment before relaxing your lids, sighing heavily and laying sprawled in his arms. You could feel his chest heaving, every breath pressing him close to you. You mustered the energy to kiss his shoulder, more a press of your lips to his skin than an actual kiss, and you smiled freely for the first time in a long time. You were truly happy, happier than anyone could possibly be, yet something niggled at your brain, pulling you from your stupor. The thought that this couldn’t last.

Both of you spent the rest of the night on the ocean floor, kissing and whispering about all the years you had missed. You made love so many times that you lost count, the pleasure blending into each moment until you had said enough was enough, your body was too sensitive to handle anything more. But when the sun began to rise and the rays returned to filter through the water, both of you knew it was time to go. Odin would need you to return and confirm your success before you were allowed to disappear to your hut once more, and knowing Poseidon’s meddling family and all the minor spirits that would jump at the chance to raise their status, staying in the sea any longer than you already had was much too risky.

So you made tearful goodbyes, kissing and hugging and promising that you would meet soon, that it would be impossible to go another century without seeing each other. You had whispered the words husband and wife, had whispered your wedding vows to each other with only the sun as your witness, then you had walked out of the water and made your way back to Asgard and Valhalla.

Odin had watched you shrewdly, as if he knew about your meeting with Poseidon but was waiting for you to confirm it. You said not one word that you didn’t have to, didn’t speak past confirming that the Draugr were gone and the humans could return safely if they wished, before returning to your hut on the cliff.

It was one week later when you began to feel different. Your body felt… odd. There was something new in your blood, something different that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. You continued about your days as normal, but you began to feel more tired, as your body was taking much more than it gave. You spent days laying around, feeling slightly ill but not quite, and you could feel your body began to get heavier. Everything felt off. It was another week before you woke up to the intense urge to vomit. Your insides felt curdled, your body was roiling like waves in a storm, and you sat by a bucket for the entire morning, emptying your stomach over and over again.

You were beginning to gather what had happened, confirming the inkling that had niggled at the back of your mind for the past few days. You couldn’t quite decide how to feel as you pressed your hand to your stomach, eyes closed as you tried to focus on your belly, hoping you could sense what was inside of you. And there it was, a spark behind your eyes, a little golden glow, a little seed that was beginning to open and grow and bloom inside you. You could feel the child now, feel its presence, and you began to cry.

You were with child. You were with child and for the first time in so long you felt less alone. You didn’t have your family anymore, your own choice but sad nonetheless. You didn’t have Poseidon, not your choice but sad nonetheless. But you had this baby. You had a baby. You cried so hard and so loud that you had to press your face into your knees to muffle your sobs, hand pressed to your stomach as you sent all the love in your heart to that child.

In the evening, after spending the day in bed and whispering words of love and encouragement to a child that could not hear you yet, you made a list of all the things you would have to do before this child could come into the world safely. You would have to send a message to Poseidon, let him know that he would be a father, the father of your child, and a smile cracked across your face. You would need to discuss what to do next, a more grave thought that instantly wiped the smile away, because this child would not be safe unless your two worlds allowed a true peace, and you couldn’t see that happening any time soon. You would need to go into hiding, but that couldn’t last forever. You would need to find some way to hide the child, a more permanent way that would keep it safe until it could realise its full potential. You almost began to cry again at the thought of this baby that you already loved so much having to face hardships that it did not deserve. But you would find a way. You had to find a way. And it started first with your husband.

Poseidon hadn’t expected you to try contacting him again so soon. While both of you had agreed not to let it go too long again, he hadn’t expected you to try again after two weeks. It felt much too risky. But the butterfly landing on his hand was welcome regardless, and he smiled as it flapped its wings and went still in his hands. He caressed the backs of its wings before going to read the message, before his world changed forever.

I am with child. Find me. I love you.

He sat there for a moment, hands shaking, world spinning. He finally understood what humans felt like when they were underwater. He stared ahead of him. All he could see was a small child running around, it had your hair, your eyes, a beautiful child that he loved with all his heart. Tears began to slip down his cheeks, hot and stinging. He stood, looking around like he had never seen the world before, and the only thing that was centring him was knowing that he had to find you. He had to find you, and fast, because if anyone else got wind of this, you would all be doomed.

You heard a knock at the cabin door. You had been waiting for him, pacing the room with your hands pressed to your stomach as you wondered how he would find you. Would he send pegasus? Some animal from the sea? You hadn’t expected him to come himself.

When you opened the door and stared into his eyes, you couldn’t help the elated smile, the teary eyes. He was here. You were pregnant. Both of you had a family of your own. You pulled him into the cabin, slammed the door behind him, and kissed him like you never had before. He returned it tenfold, crying into the kiss as you hurriedly wiped the tears from his cheeks, refusing to pull away from his lips until both of you forgot how to breathe again. He dropped to his knees when you let him go, pressing his forehead to your stomach as both of you began to cry. You could feel the sobs shake his shoulders and you clung tighter to him, small hushes falling from your mouth.

“You carry my child,” he looked up to you, eyes glistening, and you nodded, chewing at your bottom lip to control your smile. But a hysterical giggle left your lips and he began kissing your stomach, whispering to the child inside. You cupped his face and lifted it back up to you, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“It will be a boy, I’m sure of it,” you whispered, “and he will be named Perseus.” Your voice was firm, eyes dancing, and he held your hands against his face, turning it left and right to kiss your palms again and again.

The closest thing to a child Poseidon had ever come to have had been his nephew, Perseus. He still remembered the boy, born only because of his brother’s uncontrollable lust and disregard for human life. But the boy had been sweet and strong, more like Poseidon than his own father. Poseidon had watched over him all his life, had sent him and his mother fish and freshwater when they had been trapped in the coffin and tossed into the sea. He had started storms to lead them to safer shores and helped his brother keep the child alive. He had loved the boy.

To know that he was having his own child now, a child to love and hold and give everything to… he still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. One day you would have the child, birth it into creation, and neither of you would be able to hold him, to nurture him. He would be a forbidden child, cursed to live without his parents lest the gods decide to forgive. A child cursed by the whims of those far above them, those who have nothing to do with them.

The child would be named Perseus, you had said, smiling up at him as you told him you were sure it was a boy. You had remembered the stories he told of his nephew, of the boy he had loved like a son, and you had promised to give him one of his own. Before your banishment you had promised that one day you would have a child, that you would give him the family both of you had wanted. He didn’t think it would happen like this, unexpected and hidden, dangerous and brutal. But as you told him about the baby, and told him that you would name the boy Perseus, he began to cry out of pure happiness, sniffling like a child.

You kissed his forehead, kneeling on the floor to press your cheek to his and hug him. You would have time to talk about the next steps, have time to talk about how to hide and how to make sure nothing would happen to your son. But for now, just for now, you would enjoy the knowledge that you would have a child together.

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moodcrab · 7 months

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Fixing Skyrim's Main Quest

Part III (A)

You're Finally Awake

You awake in your prison cell at Winterhold. You can speak to your cellmates, a horse thief named Lokir who is having a nervous breakdown and blames his misfortune on your other cellmate, Rala (girl Ralof), who will exposit about being a Stormcloak scout who got caught, and, in hushed tones, that we shouldn't worry, the Stormcloaks are coming to liberate the city soon! He will ask who you are (character creation) and how you ended up here. There are several options you can pick as a back story, one race specific one, and a "I can't remember/mind your business!" option if none of those fit your backstory.

Enter Hadvar, who seems to know Rala. From their conversation you gleam they are brother and sister and grew up happily in a village called Riverwood, before politics split them apart. Hadvar wants Rala to betray the location of the incoming Stormcloak attack, so that he can get her out of execution. She refuses, and though it saddens Hadvar he seems to respect her loyalty. During the conversation Rala will refer to Ulfric Stormcloak not only as "True High King" which Hadvar will disagree with, but as "Dragonborn" which Hadvar will treat as almost blasphemous. Rala will respond with something about the banning of Talos.

Towards the end of the conversation you see other prisoners being led out behind Hadvar. Times up. They are leading you out to the headsman's block. As you exit the dungeon you are hit by the bright, beautiful snowy land of Skyrim, you can look around you as you are led through the busy streets of the large bustling city of Winterhold. A large fantastical building, The College, looms in the skyline.

Just as execution seems imminent, the Stormcloak rescue mission erupts from hiding! But just as the two sides prepare to charge each other... Something happens that puts fear into both parties. A bone chilling roar followed by tremors in the earth. From the north, the vast black shadow of Alduin descends on us all.

Still bound, you flee from the dragon as around you the whole city is collapsing into the Sea of Ghosts. You get a close call from Alduin and a great view of the city around the College falling away leaving the College untouched. You get separated from the other prisoners, and get a choice to follow Rala or Hadvar. Together you descend into Winterhold's Halls of the Dead. "That was a Dragon! OMG!" Just inside you find the body of the Priest of Orkey and his lootable robes and healing spell tome. Hadvar/Rala remarks that the priest has been stabbed, not killed by the dragon attack. Who could have done this?

The lone draugr shambles towards you, lootable blade drawn. Hadvar/Rala will sound surprised to see one here. After you kill it, they shall explain that the odd draugr might be known to attack grave robbers or unsuspecting explorers in some ancient ruined tomb out in the wilderness, but here in a city? With a priest tending to the Hall? You continue through the Hall, there's a passage into the mountains he tells you, but crypts around you start popping open, you get a quick go at archery and stealth during draugr fights but this dungeon won't be drawn out.

Eventually you'll bump into Rala/Hadvar, whoever you didn't go with, who has arrived via a separate tunnel with some of their soldiers. They will try to hold their soldiers back and focus on escape, but a fight breaks out as the earth is still quaking around you threatening to implode the tunnels at any minute. In the chaos, the sibling you entered with is killed by the other, and you flee for the exit.

And that's how we begin. You'll exit the tunnel alone as it collapses behind you. You won't be funneled to any particular settlement or quest. There is a mountain between you and Winterhold to stop an immediate return, but nowhere is off limits either. Let's rundown the major changes and discuss why I made them.

Oh and Lokir got shot.

Location. We're in Winterhold, which is now a proper city, not Helgan. Pretty much, if we're going to destroy a settlement let's do it properly. The Great Collapse in vanilla Skyrim was undercooked, let's actually experience it first hand and appreciate the devastation on return visits. The Collapse will be big news, and people will gossip about how Jarl Korir, who lost his son in the attack, is going full Stormcloak because the Empire is not coming through with aid. He, as well as Nords in general, will be highly suspect of the College for surviving untouched, shoving a bigger wedge between Nordic society and mages (First the Oblivion Crisis, now this!?)

Hadvar and Ralof. Changing Ralof to a woman is literally just change for the sake of change. Like, why not? But making them siblings rather than vague acquaintances really sets up how divisive the Civil War will be. Making one kill the other will really set the tone here. Whichever one happens to survive your playthrough will become a fucked up guilt and grief driven character if you side with them, someone you can help or condemn, and if you side against them they'll be like a mini boss in a CW battle. It did cross my mind to make them lovers instead of siblings but I think this will be better off elsewhere, like with Jon and Olfina in Whiterun.

Ulfric and Tulius. They aren't here. It never made much sense to me why Tulius wouldn't kill Ulfric on the spot. From the Empire's perspective, no trial is necessary, he's a murderer and a traitor. Vanilla Tulius not only took Ulfric to a town (not even the nearest one) he planned to execute him AFTER a horse thief and the stranger in rags. It makes no sense.

The Halls of the Dead sequence allows you to tutorial basic combat/magic/stealth quickly whilst also putting the insane amount of draugr you are about to fight in this game into context. Draugr are a thing, but now they are rising en mas, and it has something to do with the Dragons. When a dragon attacks a city the dead shall rise, people will be unable to visit their ancestral barrows anymore.

Pacing. Above all I wanted to put the world of Skyrim into context in as short a time possible for the benefit of replayability. Playing vanilla Skyrim without an alternative start mod is torture. We've done away with the lengthy carriage ride that showcases a mechanic that doesn't exist in the rest of the game. We get into the action of the Dragon attack quickly but without sacrificing tension and the tutorial dungeon is much shorter.

For more context check out

Part One - Setting:

https://www.tumblr.com/moodcrab/713523288690802688/fixing-skyrims-main-quest

Part Two - Backstory:

https://www.tumblr.com/moodcrab/714501541554454528/fixing-skyrims-main-quest

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mgrfp · 3 months

Text

Lesser Known Monster Types Described

An assemblage of simple summaries. Not a replacement for research!

Ahuizotl. Dog-like lake dweller. Has spikes on back. Seizes victim with hand at end of tail.

Aka-Oni. Cousin of Ao-Oni. Cursed former human. Hulking horned rampager. Has red skin.

Alerion. Large razor-winged bird. Drowns self when offspring hatches.

Almiraj. Analogue of unicorn. Rabbit replaces horse. Chaotic. Feared by almost every animal.

Alp. Elf Dwarf hybridization. Vampiric. Can turn invisible. Paralyzes victim. Powers from magic hat.

Alraun♂ and Alraune♀. Plant human hybridization. Fragrant flowering being. Sometimes rooted sometimes roaming. Sometimes vampiric or cannibalistic sometimes feeds like human.

Anthusa or Flower Nymph. Divine blossom guardian. Life-force bound to flowering plant.

Ao-Oni. Cousin of Aka-Oni. Cursed former human. Hulking horned schemer. Has blue skin.

Arachne or Drider. Spider human combination.

Aura or Wind Nymph. Flying offspring of Boreas. Keeps world cool.

Azeman. Inconspicuous parasite of human. Appears human at day bat at night. Vampiric. Feeds from victim's foot.

Bak. Tall water dweller. Shapeshifter. Identity thief. Powers from magic bag.

Bake-Neko. Cousin of Neko-Mata. Elevated former cat. Sizeshifter and shapeshifter. Prefers ordinary cat form. Feeds on lamp oil.

Barometz or Tartarian Lamb. Plant sheep hybridization. Rooted for part of life-cycle.

Behir or Nathair. Cousin of Dragon. Electricity replaces fire. Has no wings but many legs.

Berserker. Voluntary Werecreature. Raging warrior. Transformation from fungus and animal skin.

Bjarndyrakongur. Analogue of unicorn. Polar bear replaces horse. Wise ruler of bear. Glows.

Boggart. Cousin of Brunaidh. Pernicious prankster. Disappears if secret name spoken.

Brollachan or Boneless. Cousin of Vough. Eldritch jelly blob. Psychovampiric. Shapeshifter. Incapable of proper human speech. Loner.

Bugbear. Cousin of Goblin. Large hairy cave dweller. Sometimes harmless prankster sometimes deadly pillager.

Caladrius. Doctor bird. Lives in sun.

Capelobo. Anteater goat human combination. Vampiric. Stuns victim with shriek.

Cecaelia or Octofolk. Analogue of Merfolk. Octopus replaces fish.

Cherufe. Fiery underground being. Shapeshifter. Skin always hot and rocky. Manages geo-phenomena.

Chiruwi. Mysterious being. Like human cut lengthwise. Powerful potioneer.

Culebre. Variety of Dragon. Powerful magic user. Has wings but no legs. Cruel enemy of Xana.

Dingbat. Deer owl combination. Sounds like horse. Harmless prankster.

Draugr or Aptrgangr. Undead former human. Corpse self-reanimated to commit revenge. Eyes always blue. Deanimated when mission accomplished.

Dullahan. Undead former human. Has detachable head.

Efreeti♂ and Efreetah♀. Variety of Genie. Fiery enemy of Djinn. Bound to place instead of item.

Enra-Enra. Smoke being. Frightening but harmless.

Erchitu. Cursed former human. White bull with flaming horns. Brings bad fortune.

Ettin. Cousin of Troll. Giant tormenter of human. Uncivilized. Can have more than one head.

Fext or Matoha. Undead former human. Almost indestructible incorruptible corpse. Sometimes able to resume human-like existence sometimes must regularly return to grave.

Fideal. Green-skinned weed-haired water dweller. Cannibalistic. Drowns victim.

Firbolg. Cousin of Fomorian. Giant forest dweller. Once proud race. Nature guardian.

Fomorian. Cousin of Firbolg. Giant cave dweller. Once proud race. Individually deformed. Can control weather and cause disease.

Garkain. Hideous jungle dweller. Cannibalistic. Glides through air and suffocates victim with skin-flaps.

Garuda. Huge mountable bird. Sometimes partly human.

Glawackus. Bear wildcat hybridization. Sounds like hyena. Stuns victim with gaze.

Gonakadet or Sea Wolf. Elevated former human. Huge wolf with fins. Brings good fortune.

Gorgad. Agile jungle dweller. Male basically human. Female covered with fur. Not to be confused with Gorgon.

Hamadryad or Tree Nymph. Divine forest guardian. Life-force bound to broad-leafed tree.

Hecatoncheir or Centimane. Giant offspring of Uranus. Rock-hurling enemy of Titan. Has 50 heads and 100 arms.

Heliad or Sun Nymph. Radiant offspring of Helios. Cries amber tears.

Hodag. Huge hairy beast. Has assortment of spikes. Produces stench.

Ijiraq. Child stealer. Shapeshifter. Eyes always red.

Iku-Turso. Huge antlered sea serpent.

Jenglot. Animated doll. Spirit summoned by magic user. Vampiric. Gains fleshly essence by feeding.

Jiangshi. Undead former human. Psychovampiric. Has unnatural coloration and stiffness. Moves by hopping.

Jinmenken. Dog human combination. Fast runner. Loner. Frightening but harmless.

Karkadann. Unicorn rhinoceros hybridization. Cries carnelian tears.

Kikimora. Cousin of Brunaidh. Human bird hybridization. Easily offended. Can switch from mild-mannered helper to chaotic occupier.

Kinnara♂ and Kinnari♀. Human bird combination. Has both arms and wings. Male sometimes like female sometimes like Centaur. Magnificent human protector. Inspires art.

Korred or Corrigan. Enchanting forest dweller. Bewitching female appears basically human but sometimes small. Ugly at day beautiful at night. Confuses or steals human with magic dancing. Chaotic male appears as horse or goat.

Lakhe♂ and Lasin♀. Large tusked forest dweller. Has red or blue skin. Cannibalistic.

Lampad or Torch Nymph. Sullen marching worshiper of Hecate.

Leucrotta or Crocotta. Deer lion combination. Wily predator of human. Has wide mouth with bone-strips instead of teeth. Speech mimic.

Maenad or Mad Nymph. Wild dancing worshiper of Dionysus.

Makara. Huge trunked sea serpent.

Marid. Variety of Genie. Chaotic watery being. Not bound to item or place.

Melusine. Dragon human combination. Powerful magic user. Appears human but must regularly resume true form.

Merrow. Cousin of Merfolk. Female visits land as human with webbed hands and webbed feet. Transformation from magic hat. Male avoids land.

Miage-Nyudo. Intimidating predator of human. Appears human but can increase height. Can only feed on fearful victim.

Myrmidon. Ant human hybridization. Disciplined warrior.

Nachzehrer. Undead former human. Corpse self-reanimated to slay former loved-one. Psychovampiric. Sometimes has horns. Deanimated when mission accomplished.

Nack or Nixie. Cousin of Pixie. Water-controlling water dweller. Sometimes harmless prankster sometimes deadly lurer. Female human-like but swampy green. Male horse fox human combination.

Neko-Mata. Cousin of Bake-Neko. Elevated former cat. Has forked tail. Shapeshifter. Cemetery guardian. Fond of dancing.

Nephela or Cloud Nymph. Floating offspring of Oceanus. Manages water-cycle.

Ningen. Huge wide-mouthed sea monster. Runs across ice-sheets.

Nue. Monkey tiger snake combination. Sings sad song. Brings bad fortune.

Obda. Merry forest dweller. Has backwards body. Breathes with holes in armpits. Harasses human with tickling or forced dancing. Spawns from lost blood.

Oread or Mountain Nymph. Divine mountain guardian. Life-force bound to cone-bearing tree.

Papinijuwari. Monoeyed hunter. Vampiric. Sizeshifter.

Patasola. Monopedal jungle dweller. Vampiric. Sometimes partly animal.

Peryton. Deer eagle combination. Wise enemy of human. Bathes in blood. Lived in Atlantis.

Peuchen. Snake bat combination. Feeds on human heart. Stuns victim with whistle.

Pombero. Small hairy forest dweller. Silent enemy of Siren. Has backwards feet. Stuns victim with hand. Steals voice.

Pugot. Large hairy tree dweller. Headless. Has wide mouth on top of torso. Sometimes harmless thief sometimes ferocious cannibal.

Qilin. Dragon deer ox combination. Brings good fortune.

Rokurokubi. Charismatic parasite of human. Appears human but can extend neck. Psychovampiric. Fond of vermin.

Rusalka. Enchanting water dweller. Deadly lurer. Steals or drowns human.

Serket or Girtablilu. Scorpion human combination.

Shachihoko. Dragon carp combination. Has golden scales and sharp spikes. Can control weather.

Shikigami. Animated paper-doll. Spirit summoned by magic user.

Snallygaster. Huge monoeyed bird. Partly metal. Seizes victim with talons or tentacles.

Snawfus. Majestic mountain dweller. White winged deer. Produces mist.

Spriggan. Cousin of Pixie. Sizeshifter. Lives in ancient ruins. Can cause disease. Sometimes guards treasure.

Su or Succarath. Wildcat ape hybridization. Quadrupedal forest dweller. Has wasp-shaped torso and broad tail. Frenzied render of any approaching being. Caring parent.

Sylph. Light-bodied flying being. Embodies element of air.

Tariaksuq. Caribou human combination. Invisible hunter. Shadow visible.

Tarrasque. Variety of Dragon. Extra pair of legs replace wings. Voracious. Has magnificent mane and rugged natural armor.

Troglodyte. Robust cave dweller. Uncivilized. Sometimes basically human sometimes partly reptile.

Tsuchinoko. Broad-bodied leaping snake.

Tsukumogami. Animated inanimate object. Spirit spawns from 100 years of human ownership.

Undine. Cold-blooded swimming being. Embodies element of water.

Urisk. Cousin of Faun. Nature guardian. Loner.

Vaettrar. Tiny helper or prankster. Enters house from drain.

Vibria. Dragon eagle human combination. Has wings but no hind legs. Inspires joy.

Vodyanoi♂ and Vodyanitsa♀. Slimy water dweller. Male human frog hybridization. Female human-like but cold and slippery. Demands gift or sacrifice. Steals or drowns human if not propitiated.

Vough. Cousin of Brollachan. Shadowy lurker. Has webbed hands and webbed feet. Breathes with hole in head. Can transform into jelly blob.

Vrykolakas. Undead former human. Appears basically human but has wolf-like posture. Feeds on human liver.

Vulpangue. Flat fox. Envelopes victim.

Wemic or Leotaur. Analogue of Centaur. Lion replaces horse.

Wittewijven. Secretive wise being. Lives in ancient ruins or pit cave. Appears human but ghostly white. Can transform into mist. Fond of dancing.

Xana. Pleasing water dweller. Capricious. Sometimes gives treasure sometimes steals child. Not to be confused with Zanna.

Yacuruna. Mysterious water dweller. Has green or blue skin. Wise but unpredictable. Sometimes heals human sometimes steals human. Can transform into dolphin.

Yale or Centicore. Horse boar elephant combination. Has swiveling horns.

Yedua or Jidra. Plant human hybridization. Rooted perpetually. Vicious eater of any reachable being. Inspires evil.

Yuxa. Elevated former snake. Has poisonous spikes or sting. Sly. Can appear human or reptile or combination.

Zagh. Bird human combination. Speaks every language.

Zanna. Child protector. Invisible to adult. Not to be confused with Xana.

Zityron or Sea Soldier. Large walking fish. Lives in water but grazes on land. Has natural armor like plate-mail.

So many possibilities!

#bestiary #monster manual #waifu catalogue #monster #monster girl #mgrfp #i wrote this

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pb-dot · 9 months

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WIP Wednesday: What Next

So those who follow my work on The Clockwork Boy may have noticed that I recently finished the preliminary edit of the thing at the end of last week. The question does come naturally, what is next. Now that I'm back in the land of the conscious after floating fundamentally disconnected from the world for a few days, it's time to answer the question, and it's Wednesday. Isn't that convenient?

Truth be told, I'm kind of dragging my feet on the next step on TCB. I know the end goal is to get published, but the steps between that and now seem a bit fuzzy to me. I need to rope in some beta readers, decide whether to try for an agent, or just start bothering small publishers directly. The main problem here this that all of these require being Percieved, and I don't exactly love that. One of these days, though, I'll drink too much coffee and get it done.

Next up is the question of what I'll write next, for there is no doubt in my mind I need to write for my brain to work properly. I plan to participate in NaNoWriMo, but I am struggling a little bit with choosing which novel idea I'll aim for. I could very well write The Clockwork Guardian, the first sequel to TCB in which we meet some new antagonists, Adrian falls ill, and Jake loses something very important. On the other hand, I also kind of want a small Hearts In Clockwork break.

My other two options, as I have alluded to earlier, are the following: The Artist: A slow-burn horror (maybe romance?) following an art critic on an obsessive quest to meet an infamous artist whose art allegedly drives people into violent rage or acts of debauchery. Once he manages to meet the guy he seems almost too nice, although it is admittedly kind of weird that the doors in his isolated alpine home lock automatically at midnight.

Draugr: A young couple moves to rural Norway when one of them inhereits a house from a distant relation. The house is an odd, over-elaborate mansion built on a small island along the shore whose mysteries are almost as many as the required repair jobs. Try as they might, however, our protagonists can't quite seem to fit in with the locals enough to unravel either, seeing as just about everyone view them with apprehension, if it isn't outright hostility. More worryingly, there's a history of violence connected to the decaying grand construction, and on clear nights, strange lights can be seen from somewhere in the depths of the sea.

So it's going to be horror either way, but I haven't decided on which of these to try. Since I have plenty of time, my current plan is to sketch out an outline and synopsis for both and maybe get started on some character profiles, with a little luck one will feel more exciting to me than the other once I've fiddled with them a little.

Also in closing I will mention that I'm working on a little something for the Clockwork Boy fans this spooky month. Without spoiling too much it's supposed to be self-contained and explicitly non-canonical. If it's any good remains to be seen, but it'll probably be good fun for all involved, at least for certain values and interpretations of fun.

Tag List

@ettawritesnstudies @mrbexwrites @teacupsandstarlight @anonymousfoz @wrenofthewords @sm-writes-chaos @dyrewrites @owlsandwich @olive-riggzey @athenswrites

If you want to be put on the Tag List for this project, please interact with my Tag List Post

#hearts in clockwork #the clockwork boy #writing #writeblr #peebs thinks

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hafanforever · 2 years

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Royals’ Battle

Before I read the new post-Frozen II novel, Polar Nights, I was hoping that it would especially feature some new information about Runeard and Rita, and much to my delight, it did, and they played HUGE roles in the flow of the story, even as posthumous characters! 😁😁😁

In the book, Anna and Elsa learn from Kristoff the story of Princesses Sissel and her younger sister, Inger, who were from the neighboring kingdom of Vesterland. He says that the sisters hated each other and Inger wanted the crown for herself. About fifty years ago, the two sisters were visiting Arendelle regarding their kingdom being asked to contribute in funding the building of the dam in the Enchanted Forest. At one point, when Sissel and Inger were alone together near a rushing river, Inger pushed her sister into the river and Sissel eventually drowned when she went over a waterfall. A witness reported the murder to King Runeard, who banished Inger from Arendelle (and Vesterland) and put her on a prison ship, which went down in the sea, causing Inger to die by drowning, too. And despite her death, Sissel came back from the dead as a creature called a draugr, seeking revenge on those who wronged her.

Naturally, Anna and Elsa are shocked by the story, particularly by how their grandfather had done something good and just...

...but as the novel unfolds, the sisters discovers that the entire story surrounding Sissel’s death and Inger being accused of murder was a lie.

Halfway into the book, after the sisters have had several encounters with the draugr and deduced it is actually Sissel, Elsa conjures up the memory of what really happened on the day of Sissel’s death using traces of water that have remained in a locket that Sissel was wearing the day she died (brought to Elsa by the draugr itself). Elsa and Anna discover that, not only were Sissel and Inger very close and that Inger was more interested in science and the environment (and thus did not want to be queen nor aimed to steal the throne from her sister), but Inger had figured out that the dam would cut off the water flow and cause other environmental devastations to the forest. It would also affect Vesterland by depleting animals that the citizens hunt for food. She was arguing with Sissel over this matter by the river, and while Sissel understood what Inger was saying, she felt they would be powerless to stop Runeard since he would not listen to them and did not care that his desired project would negatively affect the Northuldra and Vesterland. Sissel was also terrified of Runeard so much that she feared standing up to him, as she believed arguing with him over the matter would only lead to him punishing Vesterland by cutting off their trading partnership with Arendelle, since Arendelle controls the port that allows food, medicine, and other goods to come in from other kingdoms and travel to Vesterland. But due to Inger’s persistence about how harmful the dam would also be to their kingdom, Sissel finally relented and decided to request another audience in Arendelle to tell Runeard that Vesterland would not help to fund the dam.

However, no sooner than the sisters were feeling better about the matter that a flash flood occurred. Inger got in the way of the rushing water as it headed down the river, and when SIssel pushed her out of the way to escape harm, she tripped on a tree root and fell into the rushing water. As she was pulled downstream, Sissel struggled against the strong current and tried to grab something to help her get back to shore. She yelled for her sister to help her, and Inger chased after Sissel on the river bank. When Sissel managed to grab on to a branch near the shore, the witness from Kristoff’s story, a shepherd boy named Stig Petter, raced to help Sissel. Sadly, with the branch breaking as she held on, Sissel accepted her fate to die. Before she let go and went over the falls, she told Inger that she loved her and was proud of her. As a distraught Inger mourned the loss of her sister, Stig vowed to help Inger.

Following the end of the memory, Anna and Elsa realize that the draugr of Sissel was never trying to harm them or anyone else, but rather has been trying to clear her sister’s name and has removed some memories of the Arendellians so that they don’t remember the false story regarding her death. Elsa and Anna search through Arendelle’s court records to find more information, discovering that Stig lied and said that Inger had murdered Sissel by pushing her into the river, and the court believed Stig instead of Inger. Upon finding and meeting the elderly Stig to get the entire truth, Anna and Elsa further learn that Stig was actually blackmailed by Runeard to lie and say that Inger murdered her sister. The former king of Arendelle told Stig that he had to lie or he (Runeard) would tell everyone that Stig helped Inger murder Sissel and he’d have him imprisoned, too (or possibly executed). This was because Runeard (presumably) learned that the sisters were planning to voice their opposition of the dam and would not let their kingdom help fund its construction. In doing so, they would have also told other kingdoms that the dam would actually harm, not help, the forest and convince these kingdoms not to help with building it, either.

Without enough funds needed to construct the dam, the project would never get off the ground, and Runeard could have been exposed as a liar and traitor. Even with Sissel dead, Inger would have never stopped fighting to make sure Runeard could not build the dam. But being the stubborn, xenophobic tyrant who was ruthlessly obsessed with protecting his power and set on destroying the threat he believed the Northuldra posed to him, Runeard refused to let his plan be ruined at any cost, even if that meant lying and causing harm to innocent people who got in his way. So even with a witness present to the real account of Sissel’s death, the king took advantage of the situation by framing Inger for murder and put her on a ship to get rid of her for good, eliminating the sole opposition to his goal.

Yet while Inger couldn’t save her sister or stop Runeard from building the dam, she did manage to escape the terrible fate that almost befell her. Having gotten to know both sisters during their visit, and knowing what a cruel man her husband was, Queen Rita was the only one (besides Stig) who believed in Inger’s innocence. Though she tried to defend Inger in the court, Runeard adamantly refused to let her speak and banished her to her chambers. Not wanting an innocent woman to be condemned for a crime she never committed, Rita secretly helped Inger escape the prison ship (and Arendelle) before it set sail (which was seen by Stig). She paid several men to take Inger off the ship and gave her safe passage to another. Inger was also warned by Rita to never return to Arendelle since she would surely be recaptured and put to death if she did.

All that being said, what this book revealed about Runeard and Rita’s relationship further reinforces what I have believed about them from Dangerous Secrets, but most especially the former in what kind of man he really was: a cold-hearted, selfish, bigoted, power-hungry scoundrel who never cared about anyone or anything other than his kingship and the power and authority that came with it. Runeard’s position as king made him believe that he could do whatever he wanted, that he was always in the right to do so, that he was never wrong, and he didn’t care how his actions could affect others unless they could still benefit himself. But most of all, as I’ve said before many times, Runeard arrogantly believed being a king meant that he was better and smarter than everyone else since he was in the highest place in society. He discriminated all other people as being beneath him, especially peasants (like the Northuldra and shepherds like Stig), and refused to treat them fairly or equally.

Such views are backed up perfectly by the fact that he laughed in scorn when Stig said he would tell others about Runeard’s threats. Runeard also said that no one would ever believe him because he is a poor shepherd, meaning that (to him, at least) no one would ever believe the word of a lowly shepherd over the mighty king of Arendelle.

But most importantly of all, Runeard’s behavior towards Rita completely support what I have said in “There Goes the Bride”. Being the king, it’s crystal clear that Runeard felt that HE had more power and authority than everyone, even more than Rita, the queen and his own wife. Therefore, only HE had first and final say in EVERY decision made, and that the opinions of others, including his wife and the people he ruled, were never important. The fact that Rita tried to voice her belief that Inger was innocent, but Runeard harshly silenced her and sent her out of the royal court (he probably even locked her in her chambers so she couldn’t interfere) reinforces what I believed in him trying to control her and having seen her as his inferior, not his equal partner.

Ultimately, Polar Nights helped prove that Runeard was so hellbent on creating the dam just to bring down the Northuldra that he sought to keep even Rita out of his way when she became a liability to his scheme. 😠😡

But since Inger managed to escape with Rita’s help, she managed to live a long life (though she never became the ruler of Vesterland) and had a family (including a granddaughter named after her deceased great-aunt). And in the end of the book, Inger returns to Arendelle and manages to reunite with the spirit of Sissel after the draugr sheds her form following the truth being revealed about her death. 🥲😭

Second image here is a fan art of Queen Rita, made by my dear friend @greatqueenanna.

#Frozen 2 analyses #Frozen analyses #Disney #Disney Frozen 2 #Disney Frozen #Frozen 2 #Frozen #King Runeard #Queen Rita #Inger #Sissel #Elsa #Anna #Polar Nights #my stuff #mine

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saiwola · 1 month

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Choice

"Bring out the storm sails!"

The Draugr were used to chaos. Used to action under pressure. Decisions made the entire world was screaming at them. So while the Shrike was being bounced between waves, though the crew was sliding around the slick deck, they were focused. Confidently darting around the ship pulling at ropes and other bits under the order of their captain. High up int he crow's nest. Soaked to the bone as he supplied the ship with hos own winds to push through the storm.

"Cesar! To the open sea! Away from land!"

The redhead shouted something Zandros couldn't quite make out from where he was before working the wheel. Steering the ship deeper into the storm.

"Mark! Marcus! Get Fluffkins below deck!"

He watched two pirates wrestle a massive lion down the steps. Making sure all three were safely down before returning his attention back to the sea.

Unfortunately, he could only see darker clouds and more turbulent waves ahead. Seemed their target was in the thick of the storm. And they had a deadline. So no finding cover to wait this thing out. Especially when the first motes of light appeared in the distance. The city slowly coming into view as the ship approached the coast. With no sign of the rain letting up.

Zandros' grin widened as the threat of them crashing into the docks became more of a probability than a possibility. Calming the winds that's been pushing the Shrike forward, he leapt from the main mast. Landed on the main deck with a thud that rivaled the thunder around them.

He didn't need to say anything for Cesar to understand. Relinquishing the wheel with little more than a nod before running off to find a use for himself elsewhere.

The captain closed his eyes as he took it. Relished in the feel of it in his hands. Like holding his sword back in the fighting rings. As if his hands were made for this. Taking in a lungful of the sea air, he opened his eyes again. Magic pouring from his body into the ship.

"My brothers!" he roared. "Full speed ahead!"

He was met with the combined roars of the Draugr and everyone scrambled to grab onto anything. As the winds that had whipped around them began to change directions. Circling the ship rather than fighting against it. The shaking calmed, as the Shrike lifted up out of the waves. No longer dodging the rocks and docks by the shore, but instead the buildings deeper inland.

Charging ahead. Flying straight for their bounty.

#{These Secrets We Keep} drabbles #{The Blessings}#Zandros!#Blessing of Choice and Change #big bro!#ex slave fighter #that escaped and became pirates with his former ex slaves #just a group of murderous himbos #what could go wrong?#one. more. left.#did not have time to make icons #:T #especially since I can't remember the fc's name and haven't gotten far enough int he manhwa to find him

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waywardstation · 1 year

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I think a cool name could be shrouded queen for alpha garchomp ( a mix of shadow maw and crested queen, two megaladon names from sea of thieves). i could see her being a massive pibald garchomp, mix of black and blue

thats my own idea though!

In regards to this ask

While the name Shrouded Queen doesn’t quite fit with what we’ve already set up with Draugr, with a Norse naming background, it’s a cool name!

I like the inspiration behind it. And a piebald Garchomp would actually look pretty cool - that would mean it has patches of white! That would certainly help it blend in with the snowy mountainside!

I like your ideas OP, they’re really cool! Thanks for sharing!! ^^

(Sort of related, but maybe this would mean for my stories, the Pearl Clan are of Nordic descent? (Or from the Pokémon world equivalent of Norway??) we know they’re not native to Hisui, but we don’t have any canon info on where they came from)

#wayward’s asks

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ladydov · 1 year

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Mirrors Within Dreams: Chapter 4

tries to make a header for this chapter update post, ends up making a YA novel cover…

After a few months now, I’m happy to say I’ve at last updated this story!

In which the First and Last Dragonborn finally meet for the first time, face to face.

I am by no means a lore expert, but I tried my darn’dest with what I know about Morrowind (the game and province), Solstheim, and Miraak himself. I hope it’s good and makes sense! Though some parts are not meant to make sense right now, and only later they will.

Though, granted, it may come off as a bit wonky in the narration, but the chapter opens with entering between worlds/entering Apocrypha, so, I think that’s to be expected.

Anyway, here is a quick “the story so far,” just so one doesn’t necessarily have to look over chapters 1-3 and can literally just start at chapter 4:

Unspecified/not-yet-specified events happened in Skyrim just before the story began, and Byrdie is now shipwrecked on Solstheim, after the Northern Maiden was destroyed in a massive daedric storm at sea. Byrdie is rescued by the Skaal and meets Frea, who questions why she’s there at the island in the first place. Soon, many the inhabitants of Raven Rock along with House Redoran guards come up to the border of the village and nearly start a battle with the Skaal, blaming them for the strange dark magic coming from their All Maker Stones and now blaming them AGAIN for the wreck and loss of the Northern Maiden. Byrdie is able to come between them and pacify the tension between the two, and confirms through everyone that it is indeed someone named Miraak behind all this, just as the shaman of the Skaal has suspected. The Raven Rock inhabitants leave, the guard captain, Veleth, requesting Byrdie to appear to their council as soon as she can. From there, Byrdie, along with Inigo and Frea, then head off to the Temple of Miraak, attempting to hopefully stop him, or at least figure out how he is doing all of this. The trio fights their way through draugr and cultists within the Temple, until finally they come across the Black Book at its base. Byrdie attempts to read it, but suddenly she is pulled into the book, Waking Dreams, where her foe resides.

Anyway without further a do, here we go: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35075908/chapters/111199240

#miraak #fanfiction #tes #miraak x ldb #ldb x miraak #update #The Elder Scrolls #skyrim #mwd #mirrors within dreams #chapter 4

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msfeyredarling · 2 years

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The Creature of the Nótt

Inspired by norse mythology. For monstober.

Draugr = undead person (although Rhys is slightly different to fit the story).

Elskan = my love, my darling.

Algiz runes = protection against spirits.

warnings: THIS IS DUBIOUS CONSENT SMUT.

Link to ao3

~~~~~~~~~~

Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump. Her heartbeat was a deafening thunder in her ears, and adrenaline rapidly coursed through her veins. She could hear the wheezing of her breath as the bodice of her dress constricted her chest. Her lack of sight heightened the fear that consumed her as she ran blindly through the woods. Her hands ached from carrying the heavy skirts of her gown and the hem of her dress was soaked with snow and torn from the many twigs that caught. Her breath came out in white puffs and her skin prickled with goosebumps but the spike of adrenaline was enough to keep the cold at bay.

She had realised something was wrong long before it happened. She trusted her instincts and tried to warn others but time grew short. Her eyes became ribbons of flames as she watched her village burn. A fire so insatiable it destroyed everything and left nothing, not even ashes. All she could hear were the screams of her people, all she could smell was the burning of flesh. Her efforts might have been for nothing, she didn’t know if anyone but herself had made it out of the inferno alive.

As soon as she had reached the outskirts of the village, she had felt her skin prickle with awareness. Someone was watching. The folk of her village had myths. Many stone columns with warnings and songs dedicated to a creature of the night.

When dew falls on meadow and shadows fill the night

When glow of the greesagh on the hearth throws half-light

According to a promise at the moon's peak, he rose

And all that could be heard was the crowing of crows

The undead had come, he stood at the door

But enter he could not for there were runes on the floor

She could recall the songs her mother sang upon the end of a day cycle. Songs that spoke of creatures that were stronger and faster than mortals, could scent fear from seas away. They took maidens in the night and burnt villages that were unfortunate enough to cross their paths. Feyre merely thought these creatures were like the other tales she was told as a child, not real, but as the shadows of the pines grew darker and more prominent, she knew that not to be true.

So she ran. Her hair bellowed behind and her feet carried her through the thickening snow. She was so incredibly terrified, she wanted to hide but she had to keep moving, even if she swore she could feel the breath of another on the back of her neck.

Caught up in her mind, she didn’t see the tree root. The night sky tilted before she landed on soft ground. A branch snapped behind and her head whipped in the direction. She desperately tried to quieten her breathing, to hear over the roaring of her heart but as her eyes scanned the dark forest, she saw nothing. A breath of relief left her lungs, her mind was playing tricks. She turned back around, only to find a face inches from her own.

A shrilling scream left her mouth, piercing her ears as she hastily pushed away from the man that had crouched before her. She turned to flee only for two warm bands to wrap around her middle.

“What have we here?” A deep voice purred as his nose rested in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. “Mhm, you smell good. I bet you taste even better.”

His words made no sense in her mind. Feyre couldn’t stop her shaking as fear consumed her body. She had to escape, she had to flee.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked as her thrashing became more instant. The arms tightened their hold and the moon moved from its peak. She was falling again, only to land in between two legs, legs that belonged to a strange man whose lap she sat in. “Much better,” she could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Please let me go,” she whispered as tears burned her eyes. She was choking on her breath, trying and failing to hold in her sobs.

“I cannot do that,” the deep rich voice replied.

“Please.”

Abruptly she was flipped so she straddled her kidnapper. Raven-black locks, golden brown skin and eyes of the deepest blue made up the beautiful man, the most beautiful she had ever seen. Only he wasn’t a man. He was the creature her village was so frightened of. His black-tipped fingers, dark veins leading from glowing eyes and sharp canines, were the reasons for the creation of the wall and the algiz runes on each threshold. She uttered the word no one in her village dared to speak for fear one would answer the call.

“Draugr.”

The male chuckled, violet eyes twinkling and his breath warming her face. Her own eyes were captured in his and it was as if the violets of his eyes began to glow brighter. Feyre felt her heartbeat slow and her breathing calm. She couldn’t understand why but she felt so comfortable in his embrace.

“That’s it, let me take care of you,” he said, tucking fallen strands of hair behind her ear, she relaxed further into his arms. He truly was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen.

He drew her in, mentally and physically until his head was nestled in the crook of her neck. His nose ran up and down the length of her neck and he placed a gentle kiss over her pulse. His lips lingered and he inhaled her scent. His tongue darted out, tasting the delicate skin and he groaned as she gasped.

“Feyre,” she blurted, a presence deep inside her mind coaxing answers out of her. He paused, glancing up at her with raised brows. “My name,” a smile so deadly appeared and she shivered but not in fear.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” her cheeks heated as a blush dusted her light freckles.

“You think I’m beautiful?” She whispered, eyes cast down as her nervousness began to show.

A broad hand tucked under her chin, tilting her face up. Something in the back of her mind forced her eyes to his. “Let me show you,” he replied as his breath fanned against her face. Her mouth parted as she stared at his inhumane beauty. His thumb moved from her chin to drag over her lower lip before he pressed his lips against hers.

Just as quickly, his lips left hers as he trails kisses down her neck. A sigh left Feyre, her mind all but hazed. She didn’t remember how she got there nor what happened before. All she could focus on was the lips on her skin that felt euphoric.

“This is in my way,” he mumbled.

Feyre's mind was far too clouded to comprehend his words. “Hmm?”

“May I?”

“May you?”

“May I help you, Elskan?” The word sent a shiver down her spine. His lips left her skin and the euphoric feelings dissipated; all was left was the dull thrum beneath her skirts. She had only ever felt that way about one boy in her village. A boy of her age she had shared stolen kisses and rutted and… and… Feyre suddenly couldn’t picture her thoughts nor what the male had said.

“Yes,” she replied, unsure of what she agreed to. Although, she prayed to the fates that those lips would once again brush her skin. She enjoyed how it made her feel. Craved the feeling like it was the seeds of nightshade.

A ripping noise sounded and cool air brushed her chest. Feyre startled as she glanced down. Her bodice had been ripped from top to bottom, exposing her breast to the night's air. Her nipples peaked as specks of snow landed on her chest. She felt herself flush and her breast tighten as she noticed his gaze on her body. She was shocked to realise she didn’t want to hide from him, she wanted him to look.

A smirk formed as if he could hear her thoughts. Black-tipped fingers dragged up from her skirts, fingers feather-light, a trail of goosebumps following his path. She sighed as his finger brushed her nipple, then began maddening circles over the tingling peak.

Feyre's breath caught as his mouth closed over one. Her eyes widened as she stared down at the soft wisps of black hair. His tongue swirled over her nipple, eliciting a strangled sound from her mouth. She felt the scrape of two sharp points; his fangs, yet she felt no fear, the knowledge only made the pulse beneath her skirts thunder.

“What are you doing,” she wondered aloud. She didn’t think he would bite her, let alone on her chest. She thought he would prefer to bite her throat and rip out her—

Feyre cried out as sharp teeth sunk into the flesh above her nipple. She grabbed onto his shoulders, nails digging in as her entire being jerked. The razor-sharp pain was intense, too much. She tried pushing him away, the pain borderline excruciating, but it was gone not a second later.

She glanced down as he sealed his lips over the tingling skin. He drew the beading blood and the sensitive peak into his mouth. A gasp left her lips as the dull beat down below erupted into a raging fire, heating all parts of her body. Her head was fuzzy and she shuddered as a growl sounded deep in his throat. She moaned as the vibration tingled her skin.

Feyre moved her hands from his shoulders to thread her fingers through his hair as an aching spike of pleasure darted through her blood. Her hips twitched as he tugged at her skin. He slowly released her breast, small beads of blood rolling down her skin.

The male began slow kisses down her chest, his black-tipped fingers tearing the remains of her gown to shreds.

“I need to taste all of you. Let me taste you,” he breathed. He gently laid her down, her back resting against the torn shreds of the gown. Snow fell around them and covered the forest floor, yet the patch where they lay was completely unfrosted. His kisses continued past her naval, her hips and to the place only she and the village boy had ever touched. “Feyre, I want you to scream when I make you come.”

“What—“

She couldn’t have finished her sentence if she tried. Every rational thought feld her mind as his mouth lowered and sucked. The male moaned at her taste, fuelling her heated core. He did it again, her hips bowed and he placed a hand on her lower stomach to keep her still.

The male was relentless. He feasted from her, his tongue exploring her cunt. She whimpered as he stroked the broad flat of his tongue upwards until he came to her clit. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, her body trembling as his tongue flicked the skin.

A dizzying burst of pleasure shocked her senses, her rational thoughts fading to mist. He tilted his head, his strokes became shallow and teasing. Feyre’s tilted hips up, to match his teasing strokes, but they only became lighter. She whined as his mouth completely left.

“Is there something you want, Elskan?” He purred, a feral grin lighting up his dangerously beautiful face. Feyre tried to close her legs, to ease the throb but he held her open. She began to pant, tears prickling her eyes as her core pounded with pent-up release.

“Please,” she whispered those words again, but for an entirely different reason. She needed more

“You will have to be more specific dear,” his violet eyes twinkled with amusement. He wanted her to beg, but she would not beg. He was a monster, a creature that rose from the grave. She suddenly didn’t understand why she was letting this male touch her. He destroyed her village, killed her people. Feyre hated him and if she ever had the chance she would make sure he stayed dead. She would… she would…

Beg… a velvet voice whispered in her mind. It was almost like claws had pressed on her mind, caressed and coaxing her to give in. That’s it, let me take care of you. The voice moved through her mind until everything was dark and no thought was her own. The claws pulled invisible strings until her tense muscles loosened and she relaxed further into the ground. She felt as if she was falling through the melted snow, down and down and down until she was surrounded by nothing but darkness. She couldn’t hear, couldn’t see but she wasn’t scared. Give in. She felt comforted by her surrounding, all she wanted was to be one with the dark, be a part of a place where she could be nothing and everything. Feyre closed her eyes, no longer fighting him, herself, the darkness. The shadows slowly seeped in, through her ear, eyes and pores, consuming everything inside.

Her eyes opened, snow was falling, the ground around her still melted and she felt completely at ease. She looked at the male, the most beautiful male she had ever seen. He was staring at her with such intensity her breath caught. She whispered what she would not have before. “Please let me come. Please, please please—”

A single finger plunged into her heat as his mouth redoubled its efforts on her clit. She was a trembling, mewling mess. Her body, mind and soul were becoming an inferno, expanding with every second.

His tongue gilded against the cluster of nerves as his finger rubbed the spot inside that had her seeing stars. She felt the beginning of her release, her inner walls fluttering. He sucked deep and hard on her clit, her entire body reared off the ground as she shattered.

She screamed his name, her hands finding purchase in his raven locks. How she knew his name, she couldn’t comprehend but then she didn’t care. The village boy had never made her feel the way the male— Rhysand, did. She panted as the world around her slowly came back into focus.

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” He purred, nuzzling her neck. Feyre sighed, her body blissfully happy. He began slow kisses down her neck to her clavicle. He drew the soft skin into his mouth, marking her. She sighed, if his lips on her skin felt like bliss, the feeling of his hands on her was utterly addictive.

Feyre wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer so his body pressed against hers. That's when she felt it. She glanced down noting the straining of his dark trousers. The sight made her core throb with arousal.

Before she realised, she was grinding her slick cunt against his clothed erection. Rhysand groaned, his hips working in tandem. Their panting filled the cold nights air.

Suddenly Rhysand ripped the tunic from his body and began unlacing his trousers. Feyre admired his toned body, the body of a warrior before settling in his thick cock. Her eyes widened as she stared at it, his cock jutting out between powerful thighs, the tip glistening with his desire. His cock was the biggest and thickest she had ever seen, she was suddenly terrified it wouldn’t fit.

She truly believed he could hear her thoughts when the Draugr smirked at her. He fisted his cock before nudging at her entrance. He guided himself to her cunt, slowly pressing inside her tight sheath. Feyre’s harsh cry pierced the air around them, her body trembling as he stretched her open. The air was stolen from her lungs as he pushed deeper, filling her entirely until it was just him.

“You feel as good as you taste,” he groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his body trembling as if a war waged inside.

His hips lazily rocked into hers, and her legs tightened around him, pulling him closer. His lips crashed into her own and she could taste herself, her blood and arousal. The kiss was a claiming, another way for him to brand himself into her mind, her soul.

He broke the kiss and began a path down her neck. His lips hovered over her pulse again, fangs scraping against her neck. She nodded, her mind unfocused as his cock hit the same spot over and over. She felt the pressure of his fangs before a blinding pain overcame her senses. Feyre cried out, her only tether the decadent drag of his cock.

As soon as the pain came, it once again faded into a blissful feeling. Feyre could feel Rhysand's tongue swirling around the bite as he drew blood from her. She could hear his moans, and his thrusts became harder. Her neck throbbed with a new pleasure, her core tightening as the ecstasy became too much.

Her moans were reaching a fevered pitch, his thrust were erratic. The pressure at her core was reaching its height. His mouth left her neck, his eyes staring into her own. Her blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, sending a spike of pleasure to her core. Her walls fluttered, tightening around his cock with the beginning of her release.

“Come for me Elskan,” he whispered and she did. She screamed until it was soundless, arching her back, vision blurring. She barely registered when the Draugr's hips stuttered and pushed a final time, his come filling her. The sounds of the forest completely quietened as a blanket of night enveloped them.

Rhysand collapsed next to her, holding her from behind. Her eyelids fell heavy and her heart slowed until she was almost succumbed to sleep. Rest. You will need it. The soft voice whispered into her mind once more. She couldn’t find it in herself to do anything but obey. Oblivion welcomed her with open arms.

Feyre awoke to the warmth of the sun on her skin. She slowly peeled her eyes open, blinking slowly at her surroundings. Frosted grass, pine needles…

She bolted upright, her head swerving to behind her, to where the Draugr was but he wasn’t there. Her eyes scanned her surroundings. It was as if he was never there, to begin with. She only knew her thought to be wrong if the dull throb from below and the sensitive skin of her neck and breast were any indication. She traced the bite marks at both points, terrified by what happened.

The Draugr had come and he had taken what he wanted. He had acted exactly as the tales depicted, done exactly what her village had warned. If she ever found her way out of this forest alive, she was as good as dead. Any mortal would know what had happened and she wouldn’t live past a day cycle. She was death walking not because of what she committed with the monster but because of what he had given her, the knowledge that would be her doom, if the feeling of the second-heart beat was real. He had taken a maiden in the night and gained exactly what he wanted.

A child.

#feysand #feyre x rhys #feyre x rhysand #rhysand and feyre #feyre archeron #feyre #rhys #rhysand #smut #monstober #slightly *vampire inspired*#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas

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the-broken-truth · 2 years

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Can I ask for a Sif, Thor and Thrud coming across a midgaurdian reader who is currently fighting off a large horde of Draugr while yelling something like 'you bastards couldn't even let them have a funeral.' When asked they reveal their parents died due to the monsters and they were just trying to give them proper rites. (the reader is like maybe 15-16) So the three seeing how much of a warrior they are and that they are orphaned offer to take them in and adopt them.

Broken Truth (Looks at the Ask): Simple enough.

Mask: You think this is simple?

Broken Truth: Yeah. Teenage Midgardian fighting some Draugr and Thor's Family takes interest in the after finding out that they are orphaned. In honesty, not every ask is simple but this one seems to be simple enough to weave its' words.

Mask: Then weave them.

Broken Truth: At once. Let the words weave together.

It was rare that Thor left Asgard for any other reason other than the All-Father's Bidding, but he was traveling on the outskirts of Midgard with his wife - Sif - and his daughter -Thrud - just on a family walk and it get away from the barking orders of Odin. Magni and Modi were in Asgard doing Odin know what and it was quiet without those two around, or at least Thrud thought so. Thrud walked in front of her mother and father, who stood by each other with their hands intertwined as they looked around the scenery with not a single care in the world, but it was quiet - too quiet - at least Thor thought so. He looked down at his wife and noticed she was deep in thought, to test this, he stopped walking and she continued at her slow pace until Thor's hand caused her to stop and look at him with wide blue eyes as she returned to the waking world.

"Sir, is something wrong?" Thor asked in his deep caring voice.

"No, my love, I am just thinking about something," Sif said as she pulled her hand from Thor's grasp and placed it over her heart as she looked into the distance, spotting a family of elk that were grazing together before she looked at her husband, "My Love... I feel as if something is missing in my life and I don't know what it could be."

"What do you mean, Mom?" Thrud asked as she walked over to her parents to see why they stopped walking.

"I cannot explain it but as of late I have been feeling that I have been missing something and I don't know what it could be." Sif said before she looked at Thrud and Thor, "I am confused and I don't know why."

"Fret not, Sif." Thor began as he gathered his wife's hands in his own before bringing them to his lips to kiss her knuckles, "We shall find what you are missing and you shall feel complete again."

Sif opened her mouth to thank her husband for his understanding and words when a roar filled the air, causing the birds in the trees a distance away to fly away. Thrud looked in that direction and pulled her sword out before running in that direction, Sif called out to her to stop before taking off after her daughter and Thor pulled Mjölnir from its' holster and ran after his wife and daughter.

The roar led them to a cliff that overlooked a barren plane of stone but it wasn't completely barren, an army of Draugr was surrounding a target: A Lone Midgardian.

The Midgardian looked around the age of 15 or 16 with [Hair Length] [Hair Color] Hair, [Skin Color] Skin that was scarred at the hand that held 2 small war axes; the Midgardian was dressed in rags compared to the Aesir's Clothing and they looked rather pissed off at the army of draugr before them.

"'You bastards couldn't even let them have a funeral!" The Midgardian roared before charging into the sea of the undead with their axes on full display, beheading enemies, slicing throats, and chopping off limbs, the bodies continued to fall but there were so many against one and Thrud looked at her father and mother.

"We have to help them!" Thrud said before jumping off the cliff as Thor called for her to stop but when she reached the ground, she began swinging her sword like a madwoman and killing off enemies as well.

The Midgardian chopped off another head when a back came in contact with their own, they looked over their shoulder and saw a young girl with a sword looking back at them over her own shoulder with a smile.

"Need a hand?" Thrud asked the Midgardian.

"Who in Odin's Name are you?" The Midgardian asked before chopping off another head.

"The name's Thrud, we saw you needed a hand and wanted to help you out," Thrud responded as she cut off another head from the undead.

"We?" The nameless Midgardian asked. Just then, a lightning bolt came from the sky and struck down at least 10 of them and Thor made his presence known to the young human. "The Thunderer Of Asgard?! Here?!"

"You know my dad?" Thrud asked.

"Thor is your father?! Well, looks like the Aesir are looking out for a wretch like me after all. Thanks for the aid, now, let's kick some ass and talk later!" The Midgardian lunged at another group of draugr and began the slaughter once again. Thrud smiled and went to take care of her own group and Thor kept any enemies from getting near his daughter with his hammer.

Sif stood at the top of the cliff, looking down at the fight, or rather, looking down at the Midgardian; something about them made her heart beat faster than ever.

She realized what she wanted.

What she was missing.

Another Child.

She wanted someone to mother again and since all her children were older, she didn't have that feeling anymore but this lonely human could be what she wanted more than anything. When the last draugr fell, the human panted and sheathed their axes before looking at Thrud and Thor as they walked over to them.

"You put up one hell of a fight, Midgardian," Thrud said with a smile on her face.

"[Name]. I am [Name] of Midgard." the young human finally introduced themself.

"Well, [Name], what are you doing out here? Where are your parents?" Thrud asked, this caused [Name] to look at the ground with sorrow in their eyes." Hey, is something wrong?"

"My Parents are gone. Laid to rest...or they would have been if these bastards would have let me perform their rites...but they woke up and tried to kill me instead." [Name] explained.

"Then why don't you come with us?" The voice of Sif caused everyone to look at her as she made her way over to them, walking between Thor and Thrud to stand before [Name]. "Come with us and be a part of our family. You would have 2 older brothers and a sister who would love and care for you since you no longer have anyone who cares for you now."

"Sif, what are you saying?" Thor asked.

"I understand what I am missing, Thor, I want another child but not just any child... I want this one." Sif smiled at [Name] who just looked at her with confusion and wide eyes.

[Name] bowed their head and closed their eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay, but Sif just gathered them in her arms and held them close, letting them sob on her shoulder.

"Cry no longer, My Child. I am here to care for you now." Sif smiled.

#god of war #thor #thrud #sif #reader

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