#I had to revive a dead ink pad for this

[thresholdbb]

I love their boots so I made a stamp

#this was fun more stamps #lower decks lower decks #just thinking about lower decks today I guess #the vision is to have bootprints on a short #I was stamping to see where I needed to trim but it looks like boims been power pacing #I had to revive a dead ink pad for this #believe you me I will do this to a real shoe at some point #what else can I make into a stamp #I have a trogdor a tardis and a nicolai tesla stamp #let me tell you I’ve been thinking about doing this for months #maybe I got the delta backwards? idk #just gonna avoid the main tags on my aRt every time #make bad art or whatever #not me looking up race walking footprint patterns and coming up empty

[desmond69miles]

Blood Letting

A Human! Huggy wuggy, Bendy, and Freddy Fazbear x Fem! Reader smut

this is... this is from my old blog and shit is it bad. I thought I should actually finish it before letting it simmer in shame in my drafts.

warnings: blowjobs, cunnilingus, DP, DP in one hole, non-realistic smut, fingering, cussing, demonic summoning, sir kink, daddy kink, breeding, suit kink, voice kink, hand kink, glove kink, light breathplay, size kink, all three of them are TALL ass motherfuckers, neck kissing, freddy has a dad bod, biting, hair pulling, marking, scratching, ink cum????

I had to read A LOT of f/m/m/m fanfictions for this. I got the initial part done, but had no idea of any of the dynamics so hopefully this isn’t shit. 

-

You were a vampire And baby, I’m the walking dead

(hes judging you for your decisions)

You sat there, pentagram circled around your body.

The weird lady who had owned the occult shop down the street from your house had given you a strange book after a ten-minute questioning about your sex life, telling you to turn to page forty-six and do the spell. After paying, you waited until dark. Now, it was late at night: all of your neighbors in your shitty apartment complex were asleep. The red candles you bought at target circled around your body, lit with fire. You honestly had no clue what you were doing, mind still distracted with a fanfiction you were reading, an AU where three of your favorite games were mashed up. Sighing, you looked down at the dusty book and flipped to the page, thick black letters reading “INCUBUS SUMMONING.” Your eyes squinted as your lips tightened, did this old lady who you knew got no dick give you a book to summon a fucking sex demon? You paused, looking back towards your bedroom door, the vibrator still laying on the ground next to your bed. “God dammit.” You cursed, adjusting yourself so you were now kneeling against your heels. 

You glazed the page over, swallowing dryly. You tapped your fingers over the Latin words, running the pads over the raised letters. Your mind tingled with a curious intent as you spoke the words, stumbling over a few in trying to pronounce them. As you spoke, you felt your tongue get heavy, fingers now more harshly gripping the book. Soon, the words stopped, your ears listening in for anything. After a few seconds passed, you cussed again and slapped the book shut, grabbing your phone off the side and standing up. “Time to go read some smut, that fucking dick lady.” You huffed, feeling stupid enough to believe that demons were real and that the book wasn’t some goth's doing. You walked into your bedroom and flopped down on the bed, your nipples gently budding in the cold air. Unlocking your phone, you went to safari and quickly flipped to the tab that was AO3, searching up 'Five Nights At Freddys' and adding reader as a tag, flipping the rating to explicit. Nothing some good ol' (fictional) animatronic dick couldn't fix. 

After a good thirty minutes of browsing and flipping through pages, you turned off your phone and slapped it to the side, your glossy eyes staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Your mind pondered about Bendy and the Dark Revival, and if there was going to be another FNAF game, or how you still needed to buy Poppys Playtime. After a while, your eyes began to close, your body bringing you to the brink of sleep. Cold air comforted your skin, breathing deep an-

CRASH

You jumped up, skittering off the bed in the process. Something big had fallen from the kitchen, it sounded like the shelf you had all of your pans on had crashed down into the floor. You felt your stomach begin to climb up your throat, quickly swallowing it down and looking around for a weapon. Nothing but your "trusty" vibrator was seen. 'Why is it always the horny girls that die first?' You quietly thought to yourself as you crept towards your door, peering through the crack. Some laughter was heard from the kitchen. 'Three men, great. This is what I get for not taking those self-defense classes.' You cringed as you heard more talking, then heavy footsteps, a shadow appearing in the doorway leaving the kitchen. Yeah, that definitely wasn't your roommate. You mouthed the words 'oh shit', but instead of closing the door and hiding like a rational person, you continued to peer out into the messy living room. You were not rational, nor sane. If you died here, you prayed the police wouldn't find your toy collection.

Slowly, you opened your bedroom door just enough to slip past. You didn't care enough to close it behind you, too high off of fear. Slowly creeping past your living room in an awkward stance, shoulders raised up and hands gripped tight. Once you reached the kitchen, you carefully peered around the corner, cursing when you saw that there was no one there, just a large mess. You bit your lip, fingers roughly gripping the doorway. Suddenly, a cold hand was placed on your shoulder, your body quickly spinning around and tripping over someone's feet, falling backward and landing harshly on your ass. Your hands shot up to smack against your mouth to cover an incoming scream, hands soon lowering as your jaw dropped.

The spell had worked, but not in the way you intended it to. Instead of one demonic-looking incubus coming to have sex with you in offer for your soul, three people stood there, their designs all too familiar. Standing in front of you were three men, three men who have wanted to see in real life for oh-so-long. A confused look was plastered on the now-human Freddy, and the other two (now-human) Bendy and Huggy looking around your messy apartment. "Uhh... Buh-But i-uh.. huh?" Confused, you placed a shaking hand over your chest to try and calm your racing heart. With a tilt of his head and a snarky smile, Freddy spoke, "Why do you look so frightened, kiddo? We don't bite." His voice was smooth and deep, like a fine whiskey. It made you blush. He looked fancy, dressed properly in a cream-colored button up with a brown vest, a black bow-tie and tophat accompanying his suit. Little bear ears poked out from his hair thick with messy brown hair. 

Bendy was similarly dressed to Freddy, expect in a black vest with a gray-button up and a white bowtie. His black hair was messy and tangled up, horns poking out from the top of his head. He was wandering off from the other two, touching and exploring around your apartment. Huggy Wuggy was less formally dressed, and instead only in a blue button-up shirt with dark blue jeans, with a clean white bow-tie. His hear was matted into horns, two red hairclips keeping his bangs out from one side of his face. He had red face paint drawn around his lips to mimic that of his game design. He aswell was looking around, but had preferred to keep his hands to himself. All three men had towered above you, all at least a good six foot three. It was honestly kind of exilerating, making your panties wet. 

Snapping out of your transe, you peered into Freddy's brown eyes. "Uhm.? Hi?" You didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but in your nervous delirium, it had. Maybe you were sleeping, and actually dreaming peacefully in your bed? You hoped, scorching back a few inches, but running into someones legs. When you looked up, you were met with the smiling face of Bendy, his head tilted to the side. "Hello, darling!" He piped, hands reaching down to squeeze your shoulders. His pants were soft, connecting to your skin through your thin tank top. He walked away soon after, going to dIsturb more of your precious items. Huggy soon snapped his attention towards you, placing an arm around Freddy's shoulder and leaning onto him. "Ain't she a bit beautiful, don'tcha think?" The blue-haired male said, gazing at you through pretty yellow eyes. His voice alone made your pussy throb. "Yeah, they remind me of a little mouse, huh? Small and quiet, adorable." Freddy responded, an untamed blush resting on your cheeks, reaching towards the tips of your ears. 

From your bedroom, you heard Bendy call out, "Whats this thing?" And soon after, a low vibrating hum and a small thump was heard, eyes widening as you jumped up, scowering towards your bedroom. "Don't touch that!" You hissed, picking up your vibrator and turning it off, pulling open your nightstand drawer and dropping it in, slamming it shut. Bendy's eyes were widened, smile still present on his face. Embarressment filled you, why did he have to go into your bedroom and find that? From your view, Bendy was towering above your chubby form, hands fiddling with your sweatpants string. You watched as Bendy's hands slid down and into his pocket. "Don't touch my things, alright? Or... Or I'll do something." You chalked up, crossing your arms and backing up a bit from bendy.

The dancing demon had seemed somewhat offended by your words, a look of confusion on his face. "'What?" He tempted, and when you had tried to walk back to the main room, someone pressed up against you. When you looked back, Freddy was standing behind you, his gloved hands moving down your arms and grasping your wrists. Huggy soon joined in on capturing you, sliding up next to Freddy as Bendy stalked closer towards you, lowering his face so it was only a few inches from you. You could feel his warm breath fan across your face, and you inhaled his scent. Bitter, like ink, but comforting, like firewood. A small whimper left your lips at the feel of Bendy's hands run across your waist, landing on your hips. "Trying to make threats are we, pet?" Bendy growled, pressing his chest into yours, boobs smashing up against him. You were sure he could feel your nipples poking through your tanktop. Heat radiated from all around you, skin aflame. A small chuckle was given from Huggy, his arms coming to wrap around your waist, above Bendy's and in between Freddys. Were you uncomfortable? Sort of. Was it all moving too fast? No. How many fantasies have you had of being railed by these men? And I mean, you kinda caused it on yourself.

Another whimper left your lips as you felt one of Bendy's hands come up and ghost over one of your breasts, gently circling your clothed nipple. "So fucking,, cute." Bendy whispered, you felt Huggy slip his hand down and onto your butt, gently squeezing. Freddy nuzzled his head into the nick of your shoulder, starting to make small hickies and love bites across the skin. A firework of arousal shot off inside of you, a squeal leaving your mouth as you felt Freddy lick around you, the other two men gently caressing your body. Bendy moved forward, meeting your lips in a soft kiss. His lips were soft, a faint taste of bitter ink on them. Huggy hummed, leaning back and watching you whimper and whine, his dick twitching in anticipation. 

Hands still trapped by Freddy's bigger ones, you shuffled them back to grip against Freddys vest. You felt Huggys arms slip off of you, and Bendy's lips being ripped from yours. Huggy had gripped Bendy's hair and pulled him away, taking his place and roughly kissing you soon after. Freddy's hands moved from your wrists and to your breasts, gently needing the soft flesh in between his thick fingers, the pads of his fingers occasionally brushing against your nipples. Something, two somethings, were pressed against you, and a bit awkwardly, you reached forward and palmed Huggy in his jeans, a rough moan leaving his lips, the sound getting caught in your mouth. Bendy hissed, soon ripping both men from you and throwing you down onto the bed. You watched as Huggy narrowed his eyes at the Ink Demon, fists balling up. "Jelous, idiot?" Huggy hissed, brushing Bendy to the side as he pushed you down onto the bed, Freddy walking around to the other side, and Bendy joining beside Huggy. 

"Now, are you going to be good for us, and let us use you?" Freddy cooed, hand on your shoulder and gently pulling you back so you were now laying back. Your head was hanging off the side of the bed, your hips on the edge. You felt Huggy guide your legs up so he could pull your sweatpants along with your panties down, the cold hair hitting your crotch, you shivered. You knew you were wet, inner thighs slicked and hole eager, fluttering. "Yeah, I'll be good." You purred, smiling at Freddy as he gently stroked the side of your face. Bendy and Huggy were quietly bickering, but soon stopped as your legs fell open, adjusting themselves so they were now propped up on the edge of the bed, knees bent. Quickly, you felt Bendy shove Huggy to the side as the ink demon took the place in between your legs. Huggy grunted, pulling himself ontop of the bed and to the side of you. You watched as Freddy unzipped his pants, pulling them down enough so his cock could spring out. He was thick, tip drooling with salty pre-cum. Knowing what to expect and what to do, your mouth fell open, inviting Freddy in. He smiled, you watched as the ears ontop of his head twitched in excitement. 

At the same time that Freddy had entered your mouth, Bendy had started to kiss along your inner thighs, licking up your juices as he inhaled you. Freddy took his cock out, smearing the tip around your lips, and then reaching down to take your tank-top off. Instead of taking it off like a normal being, Freddy had gripped the top of the tanktop tightly and ripped it, stopping about mid stomach, just enough so your breasts were exposed to the three men. Huggy hummed, now unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down aswell, boxers going along with the pants. Huggy watched as your hand reached out to him, to gently stroke him, rubbing the tip against the tip of your finger. The blue-haired man watched your soft thighs flex and gently giggle with occasional jerks of pleasure, watching how your soft tummy was littered with stretchmarks. It was so pretty, knowing you were well-fed and knowing you'd be a good carrier for a baby. 

Huggy was tired of Bendy still teasing, so he grabbed his hair, and mushed his mouth with your pussy, a loud cry of pleasure leaving your mouth at his actions. You felt Bendy roughly grip your thighs, pointy nails digging through his gloves. "Be gentle, she brought us here. Show her some compassion you dimwits." Freddy complained, gently rocking himself in and out of your mouth. Huggy groaned, Bendy whimpered. "You taste, you smell... So good." He dragged out the 'so', a gloved finger coming up to rub against your clit, the fabric feel making your stomach clench. Huggys hand came down to play with one of your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. Your hand came up to Freddy's hip, gently squeezing his soft, tan-toned flesh, encouraging him to be rougher. He had took the message, and brought his hand down to your neck, squeezing around your throat. His pace had also sped up, a wet squelching sound coming from your mouth every time he moved, followed by a small gag.

Soon, Freddy removed himself from your mouth, hand coming to wipe away tears and drool that spread across your face. Now without your throat being blocked, you openly moaned at Bendy's actions, feeling his tongue flick restlessly against your clit, one of his clothed fingers coming to rub against your slit. The dip of his first knuckle into your hole was enough for you to cry loudly, hole fluttering as you came for the first time that night. Bendy let you ride out your orgasm by grinding on his face before pulling away, delivering a soft kiss to the side of your thigh before he stood up, pressing his hard-on into your sensitive cunt. You shuddered, bringing your hand away from Huggy and instead squeezing your chest. 

"Let me use her mouth," Huggy said, sliding off the bed and pushing Freddy to the side, the bear giving him a nod as he walked towards bendy. Your cunt throbbed, hands shakey with your previous orgasm. "Isn't she just so pretty, still shaking from my mouth?" Bendy said, humming towards Freddy as he ran a finger through your puffy lips. "She really is, so delectable." Freddy responded, Huggy joining in on the conversation, "I wonder if we get to keep her for ourselves once were done, then we could ruin her every day..." 

"Stand up for a second, love." Freddy said, scootching you off to the side as he laid down, and then pulled you back ontop of his chest. You husked when Freddy's cock slapped against you, and when you felt Bendy's join the mixture, you moaned. Huggy had pulled your head back, hanging off off Freddy's shoulder, and stroked your cheek affectionately. You moved a hand to your mouth, wiping away stray drool, moving your head so it was leaning against Freddy's. "Are you ready, superstar?" You giggled at his nickname, rolling your hips against the boys, nodding. Bendy was the first to enter you, quickly and with ease. The air left your body when you felt the tip of his cock butt against your cervix. Soon after, Huggy gently slapped the tip of his dick against your lips, making you open your mouth wide. He easily slipped in, moaning at the feeling of your slick saliva coat his cock. 

Freddy kissed your cheek, hand going down to guide his penis into you. "W-Wai--AH!" Instead of what you thought he was going to do, he pushed inside of your vagina, his cock snug against Bendys. You groaned loudly, head lolling back, the tip of Huggys cock meeting with the back of your throat. "Thats a good, good girl. Being so obident for your sirs." Bendy keened, hand coming down to wipe some tears away from your face. "I'm gonna move now, ok, my darling?" You hummed in response, nearly cumming then and there when you felt Bendy move his hips back, then slowly forward. Freddy groaned, his hands roughly gripping your hips. You were sure you were going to have bruises there in the morning. 

While Freddy wasn't moving his hips, his fingers danced around your breasts, flicking and playing with your budding nipples. It took your might to not accidentally bite down, gagging on Huggys cock. Your hands gripped Freddys wrists for support, hips dancing in an attempt to get closer to that oh so tempting edge. Tenderly, Huggy ran his hands around your neck, giving you a tight squeeze. You groaned, muffled. Huggy's thrusts had turned frantic and he lost control, hands gripping tightly around your throat. Your vision had started to blur around the edges, hands squeezing impossibly tight around clothed wrists. 

With a few more thrusts, Huggy had pulled out, stroking himself quickly and throwing his head back with a shout as he came all over your face. He had tried to aim for your mouth, but in an horny daze, he more so got it all over your chin and cheeks. It didn't take long for you to reach that edge either, cumming with a long moan as you squirmed. You were burning, hips rolling in waves as it felt you'd just been dumped into a pull full of aphrodisiacs. Bendy had came next, crashing down with a grunt as he spilled inside and on Freddy, the bear soon following after. For a good few minutes, you all breathed as one big human-ball, catching your breath as you tremored. 

"Good job, you did so well. Your such a good girl." Freddy said, giving you a smooch on the side of your face. 

now to ruin the mood

#bendy smut #bendy x reader #freddy fazbear x reader #freddy fazbear smut #huggy wuggy x reader #huggy wuggy smut

[the-final-sif]

Torn between c!Techno and c!Tubbo being the one to find out that c!Dream is hurting himself trying to write the revive book for c!Ranboo before his hands are even remotely capable of it.

Both of them want Ranboo back, but Techno is completely aware of the damage that Dream's hands have suffered, while Tubbo has little to no idea.

Techno, he'd catch on right away. I think Dream might tell him. Might let on how wrecked his hands have become. Dream might be just comfortable enough to let him know that he's not sure if he can do it. He's not sure if his hands will ever recover enough to write like he needs them to.

Techno would be... Frustrated with himself. That he didn't act sooner. That he didn't rescue Dream before any of this could happen. Not outwardly though, he internalizes all of that. To Dream, he's calm and casual about it. They'll find a solution. Even if they have to spend awhile with Dream dictating symbols until Techno can replicate them, they'll figure it out. It's not Dream's fault other people kept targeting his hands.

He'd bring Dream an extra heat pad for his hands and tells him to just focus on healing up. Ranboo's been dead this long. Waiting a bit longer won't kill him. Michael would've had to have been asleep for this, but he wakes up to find his caretaker relaxing and decides that maybe this other piglin isn't so bad.

As for Tubbo, he wouldn't catch on as quickly. Not to the issue. He'd notice Dream is trying to write a revive book and he'd be excited, only to realize he hasn't gotten very far. At this point, I think the mask incident would've already taken place, so Tubbo is aware that Sam hurt Dream, but he has no idea the extent of it. He's been sheltered from the damage that Phil, Techno and even Ponk have seen. Hell, even Niki saw more than he did. Since he was caught up in taking care of Michael during all of this.

So Tubbo is excited and then notices Dream has only written a few symbols. And that he's dropped his pen. Assuming he startled him, Tubbo picks up the pen and holds it out. But Dream can't take it. There's an awkward moment before Dream lashes out. Dismissing the pen and saying he dropped it on purpose.

Before the Mask incident, Tubbo might've taken the bait. But he's slowly starting to see Dream in a new light. He's started catching onto the fact that Dream's heavy bought of illness wasn't just because he was out in the cold before they found him. He's taken notice of how thin Dream's wrists are, the only part of him that can be seen under Techno's sweaters. And he's particularly started paying attention to how Dream's shoulders hunch when he's scared. When he's pretending he isn't scared.

So Tubbo takes a moment longer to observe Dream, and he notices that Dream's hands are curled up. That they're shaking and pulled close to him. In pain. And he looks at the page, with it's shaky symbols and ink bleeding out, and it finally clicks in his head.

He asks about it directly. What happened to Dream's hands. Dream tries to deny it, say there's nothing wrong.

But Michael chooses that moment to wake up, sensing the stress in the air. He's only sleepy for a moment or two before he realizes his caretaker is upset. At first, the baby piglin assumes Tubbo is at fault, but then his little eye catches on Dream's hands. On the book and the pen.

Michael has been here before. He knows his caretaker's hands hurt sometimes. And he knows what to do! He snorts in understanding, snags the book and puts it on the nightstand, and runs down into the kitchen to get a hot water bottle from Niki. When he comes back with it, Tubbo and Dream are both still locked in a standoff. One that's ended when the toddler returns and happily brings the hot water bottle to Dream. Placing it right into his hands and trying his best to help massage them.

Tubbo politely puts the pen down and doesn't bring the topic up again. Although his eyes linger on Dream's hands. How they shake. How he doesn't seem to be able to uncurl them. And it makes him wonder how much damage he isn't seeing.

As much as Tubbo wants Ranboo back, it's quickly apparent to him that it's not happening soon. Not until Dream has had a chance to heal. Tubbo won't rush him. Everyone needs time to recover after all of this.

#c!techno #c!tubbo #rivalsbr #c!dream #michael beloved #michael_beloved #dsmp #dream smp #my headcanons #convict childcare au #ender dragon dream #dreamwastaken #sif speaks

[hunnybadgerv]

Pear-Shaped | Far Cry 5 | Tayen Quick

Summary: Deputy Tayen Quick finds herself thrust into the middle of a cult uprising and at a crossroads of conscience and self-preservation. It turns out to be a defining moment for her and the citizens of this picturesque part of Montana.

a/n: The first in a series of one-shots that piece together Deputy Tayen Quick’s responses and adventures in Hope County and the Holland Valley—before, during, and after the Reaping by the Project of Eden’s Gate and the Seed Family. It is fairly canon-typical, but knowing how I tend to do things, it is not unlikely for there to be canon divergence and rewriting.

AO3 LINK

Pear-Shaped

-1-

Warrant service. Helicopter crash. Shoot outs and a car chase. Driving off a bridge into the river. Deputy Tayen Quick’s head was still spinning even though the adrenaline had stopped pumping and the world seemed not to be gunning specifically for her for a few seconds. A radio broadcast told her she was still on the minds of the group from Eden’s Gate—after all their preacher, Joseph Seed, had started the Reaping, whatever that was, and now he had them looking for her, presumably to add her to his collection of law enforcement prisoners. It made her head pound worse.

Dutch had proved convincing enough to trust, but it was more than that. She couldn’t get it out of her head. That voice, Joseph’s singing. Even as she stripped out of her uniform, the glint of the star she’d worn on her chest gleaming in the low light of the bunker caught her eye. Her thumb ran over the flag on the shoulder. She’d been wearing that for nearly 15 years before she took this job—12 years in the service and 3 on the force back home.

Sinking to the floor, she leaned against the cold lockers. The sensation grounded her. She laid her head back against the metal and closed her eyes. “You came out here because it was supposed to be quiet.”

Dutch’s voice carried down the hall. “This place was never quiet.”

Her head snapped toward the sound, but he wasn’t anywhere near her. She sat and listened.

“That’s just an illusion city folk have about the country. They think all this space, big sky, mountains, and wilderness makes for a quiet, pastoral existence. It’s not really true. On the surface, it might look like that. But most of the time, the only difference is that people are just too far away to see the real shit.”

He sighed. “That’s what happened with those Eden Gate people. No one batted an eye when they built their church. Or their commune. They kept to themselves mostly. Sure, they held their revivals, but there’s not a church in 300 miles that doesn’t do that. No one realized anything was askew until it was too late.”

“Then the marshal came in with his warrant and we kicked the shit out of the hornet’s nest,” she added.

“Yeah,” he said. There was accusation in the tone of his voice, but that wasn’t all. She couldn’t put her finger on what else she thought she heard.

“Yeah, well. I told you I’d help as best I can.”

“And if that’s not enough?” he asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She didn’t get an answer. His boot falls moved down the hall, leaving her to imagine all on her own.

His bunker reminded her too much of her own place—bare, sparse furnishings, pictures of old friends all in uniform, a few plaques and commendations. It was almost like looking into her own future, and it gave Tayen the chills. Turning her back on the decor, she stared into the locker. She stripped down and traded her uniform pants for a pair of standard issue camo trousers. Of course, they were not her size, but she used her own belt to cinch them up. She pulled on a black tank top and slid into a red and black flannel shirt which she left unbuttoned and untucked.

Stepping back into her boots, Deputy Quick shuffled down the hall, leaving behind the trappings of her position—for now. Dutch was right, wandering around the county in her uniform was going to paint a bigger bolder target on her back, and she didn’t need that. Not if she was going to get help.

“Hey,” Tayen said, as she stopped in the doorway. Her eyes darted around the room, taking it all in. The bank of ham and CB radios, the map with photos and pins galore, sparsely populated shelves, a gun safe—this guy was prepared for some next level shit to go down. She’d heard of prepper types, but this felt extreme. “Um,” she said when he didn’t answer, “you got anything down here to eat.”

Dutch, staring at the radios that only belched out static, turned his head and sighed. “Next door down. Start with the cans first.”

She gave him a nod, pushing a hand through her chin length inky black hair before she moved. The events of the night before drained her, physically and emotionally. In the kitchen/living area, she found a can of stew easy enough and a can opener. Once the smell hit her, her stomach rumbled and twisted into knots at the same time as a dilemma formed in her addled mind—eat it cold or warm it up.

“You can wait two fricken minutes, Tayen,” she told herself, opting for a bowl and sticking it in the microwave. Dutch checked on her a little later, as she was inhaling the calories needed to refuel her.

He said nothing and just walked over and tapped the button under a blinking light on his answering machine. A woman’s voice, frantic and afraid filled the room. It stopped the deputy’s scarfing and she stared at the device, clearly affected by what she was hearing. She might not know Rae-Rae, but it was clear by that message that something was off.

“People here could use your help here, deputy.”

She let go of her spoon and leaned back against the counter. “Don’t you think the best way I can help them is to let people know what’s going on?”

“Before the radio signals went to shit, I heard dozens of calls saying that the tunnel out of the valley was blocked. And three maydays from local pilots saying they’d been shot at and were going down.”

The bowl rested against the side of her thigh, as she pressed her fingers over her forehead.

“You know what I’m saying, girl.” His eyes flicked from her face to the black ink peeking out from beneath her rolled up sleeve. “You’ve been there before.”

“Yeah, I have, old man.” She straightened, tension rolling her shoulders back. “That part of my life is over.” Her feet carried her to the sink where she deposited the half-eaten bowl of stew. Both her palms pressed against the counter as she leaned there. “And I got no intention of going back into hell,” she muttered.

“Might be too late for that.”

Deep down, she knew he was right. She’d seen that compound, seen Joseph riling his forces and setting them loose. She’d been shot at and nearly killed a dozen times the night before. Somehow, she managed to not wind up captured or dead. Yeah, this was as deep as any other hell she had ever known.

She let out a long exhale and leaned on her elbows. Dutch just patted her on the shoulder and left her with her thoughts. Time seemed to stand still as she stared at the rust gathering at the edge of the sink where it met the countertop. It took her longer than she would ever own up to, but eventually, she came around, but she was determined to do it right.

Whatever that meant. She was an officer of the peace, not a soldier under orders. Her job was to protect these people. Of course, she didn’t know precisely what that meant or how it would have to look. With her decision made, Tayen grabbed her bowl and wandered down the hall back to Dutch’s control room, as she deemed it.

“All right. Fill me in.”

Dutch turned and gave her a grim nod. “This is what I’ve been able to piece together so far,” he began.

The deputy listened intently, occasionally jotting notes on the pad she always carried when she was on shift. Something told her this was going to be the never-ending shift from hell.

 -2-

Less than 300 yards from the door of Dutch’s bunker, Tayen got to see traces of the Peggie’s Reaping.

“No, don’t!”

She froze at the scream. It was followed by the telltale sound of flesh on flesh, a punch more likely. The groaning resounded through the trees. She crept forward as quietly as she could manage.

“You will repent,” a wild haired, bearded man told a captive who was kneeling in the mud with his hands behind his back.

“I didn’t do anything to deserve this,” the man replied.

Her hand went to her sidearm, well, Dutch’s pistol really. Her teeth ground together as she considered it. The cult members were both armed. Even if she shot first, one of them could still get lucky and get a shot off. With a slow exhale, she looked around her on the ground. Finding a weighty limb with a good bit of heft to it, she moved through the brush as the man and his prisoner continued to argue.

She knew she would have to move fast. At the edge of the high grass, she darted at the woman, whose back was to her and bashed her with a two-handed swing of the branch she’d found. Then she took two steps and sprang at the man. He dropped his pistol when she got her arm around his neck.

The captive threw himself backward to avoid the pair.

Using her body against his in a way to facilitate leverage on her hold, his clawing soon turned toward patting. Then his hands slid away from her arm as his knees buckled. Tayen Quick didn’t release him until they were both on the ground. Once the man was down, she finally loosened her grip and checked his pulse. The slow thud under her fingertips was a relief.

“Is he—?” the captive asked.

“Breathing,” she replied.

“Christ.”

Her hands frisked over the man’s back, pulling extra clips from a pocket of his cargo pants. She also stripped him of a pocketknife and a pair of flex cuffs, which she tightened around the unconscious man’s wrists before flipping him over. She inspected the knife; it was rusty and dull and probably couldn’t cut through room temperature butter. “Who the hell goes into the woods without a knife?” she muttered at his complete ridiculousness.

She moved to the man in khaki and sawed at the duct tape around his wrists with the shitty pocketknife she’d found on the captor.

“Thank God you were out here,” the captive said. He rubbed at his wrists once she finally got him free. He just stared at her as she moved away from him.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.”

“Where’d you come from?” she asked.

“Working at the park observatory up on the hill. They just came out of nowhere.”

“How many?” Her questions and her tone were curt as she moved to the other cult member. Her fingers searched for a pulse first. Her shoulders shrank when she didn’t find one. This wasn’t what her job was supposed to look like, she recalled as she crouched over the body. Her gaze flicked back to the unconscious one. She couldn’t leave him anything he could use to hurt anyone.

“Dozen. They were just suddenly there. I never saw them coming.” The man shook his head and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not that I ever thought to look,” he muttered.

“And why would you?” she asked, glancing up at him with her hands in the dead woman’s pockets.

He huffed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Look, I have … well, had some supplies up there. You’re welcome to anything you might need. Anything the Peggies didn’t already take.”

“Appreciate it,” Tayen said with a genuine smile.

“Least I could do,” he replied.

She laughed wryly. “Don’t worry about it. It’s my job.”

Grabbing the pistols, the two had been carrying, she offered one to the ranger as they hiked up the hill. “You know how to use one of these?” she asked.

“C’mon, miss. I’m from these parts. Grew up shooting.”

“Well, then here you go, but try to keep your head down.”

He nodded. “For sure.” They continued on in silence. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you leave that guy tied up back there?”

Tayen’s smooth gait stuttered. And the first answer that came to mind, because I’m not a murderer, was immediately countered by the realization that she had, not seconds before choking that guy out, killed his backup. “I just …” She searched her mind for a reasonable response. “I’m with the Sheriff’s office,” she finally said like it was a perfectly valid explanation.

While he nodded, the knit of his brow told her it didn’t really make sense to him either.

“I’m supposed to protect and serve, not kill with impunity,” she added.

“Don’t think I’m not grateful, because I am. Really. I’d be dead or who knows where if you hadn’t come along. I was just … curious.”

Quick nodded. “Yeah, I get it.” And while she understood the impetus for the question; her answer to it still left her a little stumped, even if it felt right. She wasn’t an executioner, wasn’t a soldier anymore, she was a cop—meant to protect the people not be their executioner. She rubbed at the back of her neck and mounted the stairs once they reached the station.

#Far Cry 5 #Dutch Roosevelt #Tayen Quick #Pear-Shaped #Badger Scribbles

[spacexmagicxandxsheepxbleats]

Can we get Dark Ages ramblings? Please?

Dark Ages - Drable Request

TRIGGER WARNING: Violence 

TRIGGER WARNING: Gore

TRIGGER WARNING: Blood

TRIGGER WARNING: Death

TRIGGER WARNING: Torture/Abuse

Implied Nudity 

Her hands were shaking, but she wasn’t cold...her skin wet, but it wasn’t water…

/”...It’s alright Mardoll….”\

Why did his voice sound so far away even though he was right there, hovering just inches from her face?

“..I killed him…”

The Risen rasped, choking through a dry throat.

/”I know.”\

“...His Ghost….”

/”It’s alright….”\

The pale shell was still clutched in her hands, its crumpled surfaces embedded into her palms, biting deep into the soft gray flesh. Slow rivulets of blood trailed its jagged lines to drip at her bare feet as the Light’s optic gave one last flicker, a static sigh crackling from the wreckage of its core. 

/”Hey...let’s, let's get you cleaned up, ok?”\

A soft nod was the girl’s reply, her Ghost storing the corpse of the other Risen’s machine. He’d think of something to do with it later… 

“....Take his equipment….his armor, clothes...everything….”

Revenant flicked his gaze to her face, noting that a bit of her stability had returned, that she was coming out of her anger and becoming regulated again… She wasn’t wrong, seeing as Felix took and destroyed her meager belongings she was going to need something to get her by.

Without a word he obliged his partner, stripping everything from the disemboweled dead man as Mardoll padded through the dewy morning light to a stream not far from the camp to clean herself up.

His body was still steaming, residual heat from his Solar subclass dissipating into the cool air and for a while Revenant lingered over the sight, commiting the man’s form to memory, if the girl was capable of doing it once, she’d likely do it again...

Felix deserved every bit of violence the little Awoken inflicted on him, Revenant wouldn’t berate Mardoll for painting the small clearing sanguine. Not after what he’d been doing to her for months.

The interactions were harmless, even friendly at first. The man was patient enough if not a bit guarded, he’d never seen an Awoken before so his curiosity was understandable, his questions childish and amusing to Mardoll who laughed freely as she explained and answered what she could in the short days they traveled together. 

It wasn’t until he’d glimpsed her tattoos that he became different. 

She was bathing, as she was now, in the hip deep stream some thirty feet from camp and when she didn’t answer his question he went to see if she was alright, only to misread the markings that decorated the back of her neck, her shoulders, back and hips. 

Funny, how Eliksni scrawling closely resembled some of the ancient glyphs and runes inked across her smooth skin…

Something snapped in Felix then, his hand darting out to entangle in her silver hair, gripping to her scalp to jerk her back then forward to dash her head against one of the stream’s central boulders. 

Something about blood in lazily flowing, crystal water was beautiful on a primal level…

That was one of his remarks as the girl came around, strung up by her wrists from a low bough of the Oak tree they’d taken shelter under the night before. He’d shredded her clothes, used the strips to bind her and dismantled her weapons and armor… that nice Corsair rifle she was raised with now lay utterly broken and beyond repair. 

Blood stung her eyes, her wrists crackled as she twisted to try and see what he was doing, only to tense and grit her teeth as the cold alloy of a blade sliced smoothly across the back of her neck, just below her hair line…. The butt of the weapon struck the back of her head when she chanced to cry out….

Felix cracked out then, snapping sharply that he knew what her markings meant, that he knew what she really was: A slave of the Fallen. Her grey skin, glowing eyes...he should have known that they’d infused her with their Ether, had done something to change and bend her to their will so she could get close to other Risen and assassinate them and when she tried to dissuade him, to calm his fury and tell him how foolish he was his ire only rose.

For the next four months the man would slowly, agonizingly flay off strips of skin from her back. Disrupting the patterns and destroying the fine lines… Revenant couldn’t get close to her, Felix’s Ghost did everything in their power to drive him off and the man himself took potshots and swipes at him with intent to kill…

It wasn't until he settled in for the night that Revenant made his move. Having made up his mind and after running a couple tests involving smaller rocks and squirrels (which he left to feed the foxes denned not far away), the girl’s Ghost stored the largest stone he could find, swooped in and dropped the object square on Felix’s head, splitting his skull and slumping him to the dirt near the fire.

The Ghost was quick to dissolve the bonds that held his Risen aloft, flinching as she hit the ground with a groan, but that flinch was shattered with surprise with the explosive aftermath of her realizing her freedom.

Though she was naked and damaged she wasted no time in getting her hands on the closest thing to a weapon she could grip: The broken tip of one of Felix’s knives.  

Revenant didn’t have time to really react, didn’t know exactly what he would have done any way as the girl tore into the man while his Ghost revived him.

That, had to be a rude wake up call…. Opening your eyes, your vision blurry because someone brained you with a huge rock, only to catch the glimmer of fire light along the clipped point of a knife tip as it plunges into your eye….

Sure, Felix’s Ghost tried their hardest to fend her off, slamming their shell against her head or hand to deflect the blade and Felix himself put up quite the fight….but in the end it was that Feral Savagery Mardoll would come to be known for that won out and it wasn’t until his intestines and other visceral organs hung about his knees and ankles that he finally tipped over and expired… 

And his Ghost…? The knife point had long been abandoned, when she gutted him she’d plunged her fingers into one of the many stab wounds to his abdomen and tore him open bare handed and as she plunged her hand back into his abdominal cavity to grab hold of his internals the man’s Light made a dive for Mardoll’s face.

Slicing across her nose the little machine wasn’t fast enough to evade the girl’s grabbing hands. Panicked it forgot it could vanish and soon the sound of wrenching metal and garbled, mechanical screaming filled the air...then...silence... 

That brought them to the here and now...to his naked corpse staring with one eye gouged out while the other was wide open and glassing over…

If she did it once, she’d do it again he was sure….

Her voice drew his attention, shifting his gaze from the dead man he floated towards the stream as she stepped out of the water. Revenant materialized one of the man’s blankets, letting her dry herself with it before he provided her with his clothes… they were about three sizes too big but a few tears and ties, tucks and knots and they would do. 

“....Let’s go….I don’t want to be here when the scavengers show up….”

The horizon was aglow with warm sunlight and the Risen’s progress was slow going at best, the aches of the last few months and the fight settling keenly in her bones. 

If anything, the encounter taught her one thing: Other’s couldn’t be trusted.

- In short, about five years after she was rezed a human Risen named Felix took her on as a travel buddy, but when he saw her tattoos he believe she was in cahoots with the Fallen. Felix had some sour and nasty dealings with the Eliksni to make him so unpleasant... This encounter is one reason why Ezra wears so many complex layers of armor and is fundamentally skittish and distrusting of others, especially Guardians/Risen. 

[daedriclorde]

Krent Mon Do Akatosh

Homecoming; Chapter 5, “Promise Me”

Final Chapter! 

Aerisif was crouched in the shadows, invisible. She had the perfect opportunity, but hated what she was about to do. Taking a silent, steadying breath, she reached into Brynjolf’s pockets.

The Guild Second was oblivious to his pocket being picked. Aerisif tenuously pulled out a folded piece of parchment, and caught a ring before it could clang on the stone floor. She released the breath she had been holding, and scanned the ink scrawled on the paper. Her eyes widened as she looked at the ring.

“Brynjolf what the fuck is this?”

Brynjolf nearly jumped out of his skin. “Aerisif! What are you doing there?” He saw what she was holding and turned cross. The commotion had drawn the attention of Delvin and Vex, who silently strode over. “That’s personal, lass.” Brynjolf reached and snatched the paper from her, only to have it yanked from his hands by Delvin.

Delvin read the note, whistled low, and handed it to Vex. “Looks like we’re in some deep shit, boss,” Delvin said dryly. Vex read the note and slammed it angrily on the table.

Aerisif fixed Brynjolf with an iron glare. “Explain yourself. The Guild doesn’t take sides in the war.”

Brynjolf shifted uncomfortably. “It’s none of your business—“

“This is my guild. It most certainly is my business. Talk,” She commanded.

The red haired man bowed his head in defeat and sighed. “When we were captured in Falkreath,” he began slowly, “and I was left for dead, I said a priest revived me. That was only a fraction of the truth.”

Aerisif tensed.

“The ‘priest’ was more of one schooled in Restoration, and was one of a group of Thalmor that found me. They had seen that the Imperials had tried to eliminate me, and guessed I might be important in the war and revived me. Only to torture and question me,” Brynjolf shuddered slightly.

Aerisif, Delvin, and Vex all exchanged a glance.

“The Thalmor quickly found out about who I was, about the Guild, our members. Who we protect. Our location. I—I tried not to tell them, but I just couldn’t stand it—you don’t know what they can do, I—“

Aerisif put a comforting hand on Brynjolf’s shoulder, but said nothing. Vex crossed her arms impatiently.

Brynjolf continued. “I had revealed too much. They had a puppet and they knew it. Under threat of decimating the Guild, they’ve been forcing me to steal from Jarls and Thanes and other important citizens, and framing others for the crimes. Just to keep the war going.”

Aerisif felt her stomach turn. The Thalmor were the most despised of all the foes she fought.

Vex spat and swore. Delvin pondered a moment, then spoke. “That’s where you’ve been sneaking off to, innit? To get your fuckin’ orders.”

Brynjolf nodded and pulled out an amulet that gleamed like Elven armor. “They use this to communicate. It…it burns when they want me to come to them.”

“Where,” Vex spoke. It was not a question.

Brynjolf turned to face her. “It doesn’t concern you where.”

Vex growled. “I have a right to know what threatens this guild as much as you do, traitor.”

Aerisif shot Vex a warning look and turned to Brynjolf. “I need to know everything. Where are they, Brynjolf?”

Brynjolf ran his fingers through his hair. “There’s a cave southwest of the city. They’re holed up in there. Not far.”

Aerisif’s expression was stony. “What happens if you refuse?”

Brynjolf’s face turned grave and he aged years at the question. He answered in a strained voice. “They…they strike the Guild. I refused once…that’s when,” his voice broke, “Thats when they took Etienne. He was a warning shot to the Guild.” Brynjolf fought to keep the tears from spilling past his eyes.

“That was your fault?!” Vex lunged, but Brynjolf rolled away. Delvin was shouting.

Aerisif quickly regretted not having this conversation in private as she realized a small gathering of guild members were nearby and eavesdropping.

Etienne’s face turned white, and he sank to the floor. Thrynn grabbed Brynjolf by the collar and tried to shake him, while Brynjolf threw a punch aimed at Thrynn’s face.

The dragon in Aerisif’s chest roared. This will not do.

Aerisif unsheathed her sinister blade, gathered up her stamina, and slammed the blade down on the stone. A crimson streak of energy sliced open the air in front of the strike, making the very Cistern bleed. The resounding clang of metal on stone cut through the din of the scuffle, and everyone froze. All eyes were on her. Delvin eyed Aerisif’s sword.

Blade still in hand, Aerisif stood tall and addressed the thieves around her. “We. Will. NOT. Be rent apart by infighting at a time like this. You would let the Thalmor win? Let them tear apart this Guild like they are trying to do to Skyrim? This is what they want! This is what they do! I will NOT have it.”

The only sound was the shallow water trickling around the Cistern. Thrynn released Brynjolf.

Aerisif continued. “There is only one option here. We will not be the puppets of the Thalmor. And I will not allow anyone else to be harmed by them. Get back to work, all of you.” The gathered thieves dispersed.

Delvin, Vex, and Brynjolf walked over to Aerisif. “What are you going to do?” Vex shot the question like an accusation.

Aerisif turned to Brynjolf. “Draw out a map of this cave.”

He sat down at the table and Aerisif hovered over his shoulder while he drew. “Right. So this is the entrance to the cave, its marked by a rune painted on the stone. Almost impossible to see it if you’re not looking for it, though.”

He drew a narrow, winding path from the mouth of the cave. “This hall is dangerous. There are natural hazards here, here, here, and here,” he circled. “And man made traps here, here, here, here, and here.” He drew x’s.

Aerisif’s eyes followed the dark lines on the page. “How big is the cave? Are there other entrances?”

Brynjolf continued to sketch lines out. “I’ve mostly only been in this area,” he motioned, “But I’ve seen at least three rooms off the main cave. And I suspect that there’s only the one entrance, but there is a small hole in the ceiling where light gets in, not unlike here in the Cistern. Not sure how big the opening is, but there is definitely sunlight there.”

Aerisif sighed. “Shouldn’t be surprising that they’ve got themselves a solidly defensible position.”

“How many of ‘em are there?” Delvin asked.

Brynjolf ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe six? Couldn’t be more than ten.”

Aerisif nodded, scanning the scrawled map and calculating in her head. Delvin was studying her closely.

“You’re thinkin’ about doin’ what I think you’re thinkin’ about doin’, aren’t you?” He asked.

She looked at him coldly. “That depends greatly on what you think I’m doing.”

“You’re plannin’ on goin’ in there alone.”

Aerisif rolled up the map and stood. “I am going alone.”

Brynjolf, Delvin, and Vex all exploded into argument simultaneously.

“You’re mad!” Brynjolf’s eyes were wide.

“Are you out of your damned mind?” Delvin glared.

“That’s fucking stupid.” Vex crossed her arms.

Aerisif’s steel eyes were filled with fire. “I don’t give a damn what you all think about it. I have handled far more than a few Thalmor by myself. I haven’t been running across Skyrim these past few years handing out fucking flowers, you know. This is what I do.”

“I’m going with you.” Brynjolf challenged.

“No, you are not. You will wait here.”

“If you’re seriously planning on going in alone, you’ve gotten a lot dumber since you left us.” Vex cut in. “This isn’t a job for one person.”

“She’s right, Aerisif.” Brynjolf crossed his arms. “You can’t do this by yourself.”

“We’re comin’ with you, boss, like it or not.”

Aerisif eyed them all carefully. She considered a moment, then spoke. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You three agreeing on something.”

Vex shrugged. “It’s not often those two boneheads know what’s best, but yeah. You’ve got back up.”

Aerisif scowled. “Fine. But I need you two to stay here,” she fixed Delvin and Vex with a hard stare. “Hold down the fort. I’ll take Brynjolf and Karliah. We fight well together. Work well as a team.”

Vex shrugged. “Have it your way.” She and Delvin walked away.

She turned to Brynjolf. “Find Karliah and tell her. Ready your equipment, we ride at dawn.”

***

Aerisif slipped out of the mausoleum into a pitch black night, alone. Brynjolf and Karliah remained in the cistern, asleep and unaware.

I’ll be back with Thalmor heads before they even wake up.

Torches dotted Riften’s walkways, but Aerisif kept quietly to the shadows, making her way out of town. Her midnight Nightingale Armor cloaked her in ebony, making Aerisif inseparable from the night.

Shadowmere’s red eyes pierced the black oneness of the surrounding forest. Aerisif softly padded over to her stall. She whispered gentle greetings to the horse while adjusting her tack. In a swift motion, Aerisif slid into the saddle and kicked her steed into motion. Shadowmere charged into the night, eager to stretch her legs.

Six Thalmor were a challenge, but a challenge she could handle. Ten was definitely a risk. She thought back to when she rescued Thorald from a whole keep of Thalmor. She could do this. Her inner dragon was pacing, ready to attack.

The two obsidian figures tore through the forest of the Rift. Aerisif kept her eye on that lone peak, her only guide in the darkness. The thunder of Shadowmere’s hooves reverberated in Aerisif’s chest, matching the rhythm of her racing heart. It seemed she had only just left Riften when they pulled up to the stoic base of the mountain. She jumped off Shadowmere’s back as the horse slowed to a walk, landing silently on the soft grass. Aerisif concentrated hard, and a moment later a small orb of light popped out of her hand and floated above her head.

Approaching the wall in the eerie bluish light of her spell, Aerisif squinted at the rocky face. For a moment she regretted coming in the dark of night now, struggling to find the rune that would point to this cave. Was she even in the right place? Her eyes scrutinized the stone, searching for anything that might seem unnatural in the rock. Suddenly her gaze caught a trace of pigment smeared on the rock. On closer inspection, Aerisif made out an arrow shape. The light floating overhead wore off, and Aerisif traced her fingertips along the rock as she tread westward, as Brynjolf had told her.

She found the slim opening of the cave a few paces later. Aerisif froze, straining her ears to hear any sign of life inside. Nothing.

Aerisif rubbed the soft fuzz on Shadowmere’s nose. “You won’t fit inside, girl,” The horse snorted indignantly. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them flee. Can you take care of them for me?” Shadowmere tossed her head and pawed at the ground.

The stones of the mountain were cold and dewey as Aerisif scrambled up the rocky face of the mount. Boulders were easy enough to manage, but some of the steeper crags were more daunting to scale. The ground flattened out and Aerisif scanned the dirt for any sign of the hole Brynjolf had mention.

She was seething all the while. How could Brynjolf have let this happen? This was a bad situation, every way she looked at it. Now it was up to her to clean up the mess.

This could have been the undoing of the Guild—

Aerisif’s foot caught the hole in the rock and her body slammed into the stone. Aerisif dared not breathe, dared not blink, as she listened to the gravel clink and clatter down into the cavern below. Only when her body screamed for breath, and she had heard no sound of disruption from below, did Aerisif lift herself up from the ground and breathe.

I’ve got to keep my head.

The hole was only slightly wider than she was— Aerisif was glad she did not choose her ebony armor, there was no way it would fit— and the opening peered down into a dark cave. She grabbed a small rock and tossed it down the hole, straining her ears to hear how long it took to hit the floor of the cave. The following clink came only second later. Not a far drop at all.

Aerisif supported herself with her arms and slowly let her legs slide through the crevice into the cave. Trying her hardest to stay relaxed, she released her grip on the stone and dropped into the cave, and immediately rolled out of the lone stream of moonlight.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark cave, Aerisif looked around and found her bearings. She began to make out small openings in the slate that seemed to be smaller channels and rooms off the main cave.

“Las, Yah, Nir,” the whisper slid from Aerisif’s lips. Shimmering red auras became visible in the darkness. Two in the room to her left, three over by the main entrance, two more in a small room to the right, sleeping probably, and one just a few paces away from her. She was lucky her drop into the cave didn’t alert that one.

Sensing that she would be well shrouded, Aerisif drew the dagger from her belt rather than the sword from her back. She crept toward the unaware Thalmor, her footsteps silent.

The Thalmor had not the time to blink before Aerisif’s dagger carved a river of blood across his exposed throat. Aerisif caught the body before the golden armor could clang to the stone and raise the alarm. She slid the body into further shadows and quickly rummaged it for what she could: a couple septims, a healing potion, a garnet she could sell later.

Aerisif turned her attention to the rooms still containing Thalmor. The sleeping pair would be easy kills, and she crept in that direction.

The first was easy: Aerisif slit his throat, the elf never to awake again. As she made the kill, the second stirred. As the mage rose from the bed and cast a ward, Aerisif quickly jammed her dagger into her enemy’s throat.

The dragon within her was alive, circling and spitting fire.

The sound of that skirmish drew the attention of the other two Thalmor on this side of the cave. Aerisif adjusted her stance, drew her sinister greatsword, and waited for them to come, flexing her grip on the blade.

“You never should have come here!” The first one shouted. He wore a golden shield on one arm, matched by a gleaming short sword in the other. Aerisif lunged toward him. He raised his sword to block, but Aerisif’s strength sent him staggering back. A shift in her weight, a quick turn, and Aerisif was ready to strike the second, who had flanked her. He approached with his shield raised, and Aerisif’s blow glanced off it, but knocked his helm off in the process. She pivoted, and faced both Thalmor.

Aerisif bought herself time by taking a few paces backward, gathering her strength while pulling the behemoth blade back. The pair crept closer, unaware of the force swelling in their foe.

The Bloodskal Blade swiped parallel to the floor, slicing both Thalmors’ armor open and releasing the sinister, red energy it was feared for. The flash of red sunk into the weakened elves, knocking them to the ground. Aerisif swung once more, finishing them both off.

Kill. Blood. Blood! The dragon screamed.

Aerisif charged into the main cave, releasing a battle cry from her maw. The remaining three Thalmor were already alert to her presence and approaching. Her yell made them stop for a moment, and the pair in gleaming elven armor sent apprehensive looks to the mage.

“Kill her!” his order brought their nerve back to them. Aerisif rolled and dodged a bolt of lightning, lunged again to miss a second. The armored pair had reached her now. Ducking, Aerisif’s cloaked figure fell from their sight for a moment. The Thalmors’ swords swung over her head and met each other, causing an eruption of vulgarities from each. Aerisif swung at their feet, feeling the metals grind and scrape. She rolled back again, trying to give herself room to swing.

Then she heard the sound she dreaded most. That otherworldly hum of a monster being summoned from Oblivion. A pit of purple and jet opened to her left, and Aerisif clenched her jaw, waiting to see what would emerge.

A frost atronach lumbered out, swinging its icy club.

Fuck, thought Aerisif, as she blocked swings from the armored Thalmor.

Now trying to dodge blows from the Thalmor swordsmen, swings from the icy giant, and blasts of lightning from the mage, Aerisif hardly had time to strike. While wearing her Nightingale armor allowed her to move swiftly and easily, it did not provide as much protection as her heavy armor did. She wondered if she had made the wrong choice.

Her feet were nimble though, and her small frame had often proved to be an advantage in battle. She out maneuvered the Thalmors’ advance and was able to leap away to where she could swing her woeful blade once more. The powerful strike sliced with magical force, rendering one Thalmor to his knees. Her next strike took off his head.

Her dragon snapped its jaws hungrily for more.

As she charged toward the next golden target, she was struck by an icy blast, chilling her to her bones.

No, no, no! Aerisif hated these atronachs the most. She struggled to move her legs, each crusted in ice and numb from the deep freeze. Panic began to choke her. The Thalmor was running toward her, blade raised. Aerisif could not move, and the magic of her blade relied on the strength that was sapped from her.

“Fus Roh Dah!” She shouted. Maybe simplistic, but it was the first shout that came to her mind. The remaining Thalmor was thrown against the far wall, his head taking the brunt of the force. The frost atronach stumbled back a few paces.

Aerisif began to feel some of her strength return, her legs able to move again. She rolled just in time to miss the atronach’s shimmering fist smash the space she had just occupied. She took the chance to strike, swinging wildly at the beast while it worked to pull its massive appendage back from the ground.

Backing away when it had recovered, Aerisif felt the blinding pain of lightning surging through her nerves. She grit her teeth and squinted, trying to ignore the blast, as the armored Thalmor charged toward her again. He ran with a strength he should not after his impact with the wall.

Damn mage healed him, Aerisif realized.

Baring her teeth, Aerisif raised her weapon and met the Thalmor in combat. She swung fiercely, her blade tracing wide arcs in blood red slashes. The elf could not match her strength, or the magnitude of the blade she carried. His golden shell cracked and crumpled, his body fell to the ground.

An icy fist knocked Aerisif off her feet. The cold numbness returned to her legs as she struggled to get up. The glacial beast lumbered toward her.

“Yol Toor Shul!” The inferno ripped from her throat, roasting the atronach. The heat from her flames brought some life back into her legs, and Aerisif rose, lifted her sword, and drove the blade down into the atronach. It shattered and returned to whatever icy void it came from.

Now there’s just that damned mage.

Aerisif had no more thought the words when she was struck by an energy she had not felt before. She had done battle with mages more than she’d like to recount. She was familiar with the jolt of lightning based spells, the searing pain of flame spells, and the icy burn of frost spells. Aerisif knew those pains all too well.

But this, this was something different altogether. Aerisif could not move. She was paralyzed, magically. Agony wrenched her body, and every inch of her wanted to scream and twist from the torment. There was no release from this pain.

A low chuckle echoed on the walls of the cave. The Thalmor mage approached her.

“Well well, what do we have here?” He circled her immobile body like a predator toys with its prey.

Aerisif felt her strength sap.

“Nightingale armor, hmm? I’ve caught another little bird. This one even more vulnerable and fragile than the last, it seems.”

Unable to speak from the mage’s spell, Aerisif glared at the elf. Her vision was getting blurry, she was growing weaker, but she shot as much venom as she could through her stare. Her bones screamed from the pressure exerted on them.

“You have cost me men, little bird,” the elf sneered. “You’ll need to be punished for that.”

This spell was tapping her life force. Aerisif knew she would expire from this twisted, new magic. Spots clouded her vision. She was fading.

He smiled. “But perhaps you can be of use to me, like that other pathetic soul. Or maybe I’ll make him watch, while I—“

An arrow protruded from the mage’s chest. He looked at the arrow in outrage and spun around. His eyes widened in shock when he saw what approached.

Two shadows emerged from the mouth of the cave. Karliah stood, bow drawn tight with a second arrow. Brynjolf bore down from the darkness, ebony sword in hand.

The red headed rogue thief drove his sword through the mage’s chest. Aerisif felt her body release, the spell breaking as its caster perished, but the searing pain lingered.

“You won’t ever touch another one of us again, you fucking coward, Veladar.” Brynjolf hissed through gritted teeth, twisting the sword in the languishing elf. He violently pulled the sword out, letting it and the dead Thalmor mage fall to the ground.

Brynjolf scooped up Aerisif’s limp frame. “What the hell were you thinking, lass! Gods, Aerisif, stay with me. Stay with me lass!”

Aerisif attempted a weak smile. She tried to speak, but only an airy whisper came out.

“Shh, lass, don’t speak. Save your strength. Let’s get you out of here.” He lifted her body easily. Aerisif’s face wrinkled with a silent scream at the pain, before her consciousness lost to the agony wracking her body.

***

Pain. Throbbing, swirling pain engulfed Aerisif entirely. She felt a humming throughout her body, the source unidentifiable.

In her deep sleep, Aerisif floated in and out of visions.

Aerisif was practicing swinging a greatsword, toiling in the Whiterun heat. Fear banged in her chest, screaming that she would never get the hang of it. Her next encounter with a dragon would be her last. She would be known as the weakest Dragonborn to ever exist on Nirn, she would be a joke to the gods.

The humming was growing louder.

She was in the heat of battle, a wild battle cry ripping from her maw. She could move quickly now, the weight of the steel was nothing to her. Her blade was soaring up, and crashing down, unrelenting. There was no stopping, Aerisif didn’t see until her blade met worn armor. A dark haired woman lay crumpled in Aerisif’s arms, a pledge of loyalty whispered on her last breath. Aerisif sobbed over the dead woman’s body.

Aerisif was a dragon. She floated in and out of the clouds, stretching her wings as wide as they could reach. The cold air was nothing to dragonscale. The night cloaked her ebony body.

Were these her memories? There was no telling anymore. The humming was persistent and constant.

She was at High Hrothgar, panting and sweating, learning to shout. She was in Sovngarde, taking a last longing look at Shor’s Hall before being returned to Mundus. Slamming down the damp Bill of Sale for Goldenglow on a rickety table in the Flagon, and seeing the bewilderment and pride in Brynjolf’s eyes. Waking up to find Astrid’s slender frame draped so casually on the shelf in that shack. The strange peace that drifted from Titus Mede’s face, eyes closed, sighing his last breath, accepting. Dungeon and Dwemer ruin alike scrolled past her vision like an endless dream, treasure spilling out of every variety of vessel.

Her parents’ farm was a dot on the landscape. Her mother and father were there, pointing and trembling. She tried to land, but found she had no control of this dragon’s body. She was trapped, a prisoner within it. The troubles of men were nothing to a dragon.

Aerisif, the hum became a voice.

A raven haired child sprinted down the mountainside toward the smoke. Her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

Aerisif, the voice beckoned again.

A silhouette of a dragon appeared in her vision. It was featureless, but Aerisif felt this was the dragon that lived in her. The dragon that was her.

Wake up, my child. Rise from sleep.  

The raven haired girl was frightened, but stepped forward.

You cannot rest now, the gravelly voice said. You are not done here. We have more to do.

A broken woman in rags with matted midnight locks and empty steely eyes was crouched behind a rock outside of Helgen, afraid of anything in the skies. “No,” she shook her head and shouted. “NO!” tears were streaming down her face.

The silhouette of the dragon coiled. Yes, my daughter. There is much more for you here.

The woman in rags sobbed. “Just let me die,” she begged. “Let me die in peace.”

The dragon loomed larger. It drifted slowly from black as night to glowing the warm gold of dawn. Each scale, claw, and spike became clearly defined in the light the dragon radiated. As the dragon lit up, Aerisif felt her body warm. It was like watching the sunrise.

No, my child. The dragon boomed, but the voice was not threatening. You have chased death down every road for too long. You have barely yet to live. I did not give you this gift to have you waste it.

The ragged woman sneered. “Give me this gift? You mean this curse! I am cursed to live alone.”

The dragon that glowed of dawn pondered. Ah, but are you truly alone? Have you not met worthy companions, faithful followers? You have rebuked them.

“To protect them! I must protect the weak. That is my duty, the curse of this gift.”

And have you? Protected them? The voice seemed to purr.

A warrior in ebony armor bowed her head, defeated. “Not as I should have,” she admitted. “But gods, I tried!”

The dragon considered a moment. This is so. But, perhaps you are right, my daughter. Perhaps you need a greater ally, a stronger companion. An equal. The last words were dipped in honey.

A suspicious young woman cloaked midnight leather eyed the golden dragon calculatingly. “Who are you?” She demanded indignantly.

The dragon spread its magnificent wings, and showered golden light through the flecked membranes. You know who I am, the voice was low and comforting.

Silver eyes grew wide with understanding. The warrior fell to her knees, offering up her greatsword. “I am honored, Akatosh.”

Go now. There is much to do.

“What more could I do? I saved Tamriel! I saved all of Nirn! I have done all you asked!”

Darkness returned to the golden dragon. Black crept like spilled ink on parchment over the once glimmering hide, like blood seeping from a wound. Soon the dragon had returned to its sinister obsidian, no more than a silhouette.

There are more trials ahead, my daughter. I will send you an equal.

“Aerisif,” a new, gentle voice broke the silence. Was it silence, or was it just the absence of Akatosh?

She turned her head. A short woman with black hair stood before her.

“Mother?”

The woman nodded.

The raven haired child ran into her mother’s arms and was swept into a hug. “Aerisif,” she cooed. She held the embrace a moment longer before pulling away and holding her child at arms length. Her face turned grave.

“You cannot trust them, daughter.”

The child’s face scrunched up with confusion. “Who?”

“They say they want to protect you. To help you. It’s a lie! They. Are. Liars. Do you hear me, Aerisif? Do you understand?”

“Mother!” But the woman was already beginning to fade.

“Promise me, Aerisif! Promise me!” The woman was all but a vapor now.

***

Aerisif awoke with a start, panting. The room around her dark and shadowy. She looked around in a panic, hardly able to make out shapes.

“Aerisif!” A voice called from the darkness.

“Brynjolf? Bryn, is that you?” She started to push herself from the bed.

“No, Aerisif, don’t move!”

It was too late. Aerisif took one step and crumpled to the floor.  

***

When Aerisif woke for the second time, her first sensations were soft and warm. She felt sunlight on her face. There was a light fragrance in the air. Was that…juniper? The smell transported her back to the mountains of the Reach. Springtimes spent exploring the mountains and wandering through forests came floating back to her.

The light filtered through her eyelids seemed to have a warm hue. Was it…pink? Aerisif cracked her eyes open.

She was back in the room at Riftweald, tucked into the bed, now with finer sheets and blankets than it had seen before.

The shimmering pink light came from the window. All the stones of Barenziah that she had found were laid out in the sun. They reflected and refracted the light into a million glimmering facets across the room. Aerisif felt a pang of panic that they were all laid out there, in the open for anyone to take, until she saw Brynjolf sat slumped in a chair by the window, asleep.

Aerisif continued to scan the room. Bouquets of nightshade were gathered around the bed. In the corner, some juniper sprigs smoldered, sending incensed tendrils into the air.  She noticed that her armor had been removed and she had been clothed in a fine, soft robe made of red cloth. Her armor sat neatly by the table, cleaned and oiled, and the Bloodskal Blade leaned against the wall, polished and gleaming.

They thought I was going to die.

“Bryn,” She called softly.

He bolted upright. “Aer!” Brynjolf nearly jumped to the bed.

“Bryn,” Aerisif tried to move.

“Stay still, lass. Don’t move.” Brynjolf’s green eyes gazed down at her, full of concern.

“Bryn, what happened?” Aerisif’s voice was thick from sleep.

He sighed and stroked her hair. “You passed out almost right when we found you. If we had been even a minute later, I…” his voice trailed off. “Well, we’re lucky we got there when we did. We brought you back here, and the priest has been tending to you.”

“How long have I been sleeping?”

Brynjolf sucked in his breath. “It’s been four days, lass.”

“FOUR DAYS?”

He nodded.

“Fuck.” Aerisif’s eyes glazed over as she scanned the offerings in the room. “No wonder you all thought I was dying.”

Brynjolf shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean for them to be offerings. I just…I thought that your favorite things would bring you back.”

Aerisif smiled up at him and cupped his face with her hand. Fear broke through her happiness. Her smile broke and sadness tinted her eyes. “What’s wrong with me?”

Brynjolf sighed. “Maramal says he’s never seen this kind of magic before.”

“Am I—Bryn, am I paralyzed??” Panic seeped into her voice.

He shook his head. “No, not permanently. I imagine you have more use of your legs now than you did when you woke up in the night. But regaining your strength will be slow. You won’t be battle or job ready for a few weeks. You have to rest. You HAVE TO, okay, lass?”

Before she could respond, the door opened and Karliah, Delvin, and Vex poured in.

“Guess you’re not quite stupid enough to die, huh?” Vex quipped. Delvin elbowed her in the side, hard, and Vex glared at him.

“How ya feelin’, boss?”

Aerisif raised her chin. “Ready to run some jobs,” she smiled weakly. “Got any work?”

Delvin chuckled and took the chair by the window. Karliah approached.

“Thank Nocturnal you made it. We were so worried about you, you were nearly dead when we found you.”

Aerisif grimaced. “I love hearing about how fragile I am.”

Karliah shrugged her comment off. “I suspect Nocturnal chose you for your spirit. I can’t imagine she’s done with you quite yet. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

“Thanks, Karliah. For everything. I would be dead if it hadn’t been for you two.”

“Yeah, let’s talk about that, shall we?” Vex drawled from the corner. “That was a dumb ass move, leaving them behind like that.”

“Vex,” Brynjolf warned.

“What, you’re not mad about this? After all you two have been through, she stalks off in the middle of the night and ALMOST DIES. After promising that she would take you and Karliah.”

Brynjolf crossed his arms and glared, but said nothing.

“I’m sorry.” Aerisif’s apology cut the tension in the room. “I shouldn’t have done it. I knew it was a bad idea. It’s just. I— I wanted to protect you all.”

A vulnerable Aerisif was not one that any of them were used to seeing, outside of Brynjolf, and even then Aerisif tried to hide it from him too. They all shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, you’re alive, that’s what matters.” Delvin said. “Try to stay that way for a bit longer, yeah?” He was leaning forward.

Aerisif smiled. “That’s the plan.” Wait, Delvin wasn’t just leaning forward. He was leaning ON something.

Her sword.

“Hey, get your paws off my blade.”

Delvin admired it. “Bet this would fetch a fine price. Have to ask Tonilia about it…such a unique thing…”

“Damned right it is. I pulled that from Bloodskal Barrow myself, and paid a fine price in blood and sweat to earn it. From a goddamn Dragon Priest. So fuck off my sword, yeah?” Aerisif’s brows furrowed as she glared at Delvin.

Delvin’s eyes were shifty, shiftier than usual. “Did you say Skal?”

Aerisif’s scowl faded into a knowing smile. “Yeah, I sure did. On Solstheim? Ever been there?”

Delvin shook his head.

“But surely you’ve heard of it. Send any letters to Raven Rock recently?” Her tone was mischievous.

The others in the room exchanged confused glances.

Delvin was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide his head behind his hands, as if he could pretend he wasn’t there.

“No? Well, I guess I’ll just have to tell big brother Glover that you say hello next time I’m there.”

“What?” Brynjolf drew back in surprise.

“You have a brother in Morrowind?” Karliah turned to him.

“You have a brother?!” Vex threw her arms out in rage.

Delvin shot a pained look to Aerisif. “Thanks for that, boss.”

Aerisif grinned devilishly. “Sword, please.” Delvin returned the sword to where it had been leaning up against the wall.

The door opened again, this time bringing Maramal. The priest looked shocked. “Out! Too many of you in here, she needs rest! Get out!”

The room of thieves glared. Maramal looked at each occupant in turn, as the leather clad thieves crossed their arms and stood tall. Maramal gulped and began to cower sightly, not daring to release his gaze from Vex, who was menacingly stepping closer.

Aerisif laughed. “Let him be, guys. Go on, get out. I’ll be out of here soon.”

With that, Delvin, Vex, and Karliah strode from the room. Karliah towered over the Redguard on her way out the door.

“No nonsense, priest. We need her whole.”

Maramal nodded anxiously.

Brynjolf took the seat by the window as Maramal approached Aerisif.

“I’m glad to see you are awake, child of Mara.”

“Yeah yeah, save the praising of the Divines till you’re back in the Temple. How soon can I get out of here?”

Maramal handed her the potion he was holding. “Drink this. I’ve been brewing it specially for your case. While I’ve never seen magic that paralyzes before, this tincture should speed up your recovery. As should this.” He knelt by the bed, raised his hands over her legs, and began to work a healing spell.

Aerisif felt the itch of the spell work on her legs. She longed to wriggle free of the spell, the itch was unbearable. She fidgeted and twisted—

She fidgeted and twisted. She could move her legs.

“Maramal, you miracle worker!”

“It is not I who heals you, I am but the tool of the benevolent Mara—“

“Yes, yes, we know.” Aerisif rolled her eyes. Brynjolf chuckled at her impatience.

Maramal tipped his head, holding back his indignation. “Rest more, child. While the use of your legs has been restored, they are weak. This is strange, dark magic that has done this. If you overwork them, I fear your recovery will be even longer.” He turned and left the room.

Brynjolf moved to sit on the edge of the bed, next to Aerisif. “You’ve never been afraid of learning something new. Think you can handle learning how to relax?”

Aerisif grinned. “Only if you’re going to be here the whole time. Promise to take care of me?” The words reminded her of the dream she’d had. Was it a dream? Her mother’s last call echoed in her head.

Promise me, Aerisif! Promise me! Aerisif could still hear the fear in her mother’s voice.

Brynjolf smiled and stroked her hair. “I promise.” He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

Promise me, Aerisif.

#skyrim fanfic #OC: aerisif/kjolti #KMDA #tes v #theives guild #f!dragonborn x brynjolf

[spacexmagicxandxsheepxbleats]

Dark Ages - Drable Request

TRIGGER WARNING: Violence TRIGGER WARNING: Gore

TRIGGER WARNING: Blood TRIGGER WARNING: Death

TRIGGER WARNING: Torture/Abuse  TRIGGER WARNING: Implied Nudity

Her hands were shaking, but she wasn’t cold...her skin wet, but it wasn’t water…

/”...It’s alright Mardöll ….”\

Why did his voice sound so far away even though he was right there, hovering just inches from her face?

“..I killed him…”

The Risen rasped, choking through a dry throat.

/”I know.”\

“...His Ghost….”

/”It’s alright….”\

The pale shell was still clutched in her hands, its crumpled surfaces embedded into her palms, biting deep into the soft gray flesh. Slow rivulets of blood trailed its jagged lines to drip at her bare feet as the Light’s optic gave one last flicker, a static sigh crackling from the wreckage of its core. 

/”Hey...let’s, let's get you cleaned up, ok?”\

A soft nod was the girl’s reply, her Ghost storing the corpse of the other Risen’s machine. He’d think of something to do with it later… 

“....Take his equipment….his armor, clothes...everything….”

Revenant flicked his gaze to her face, noting that a bit of her stability had returned, that she was coming out of her anger and becoming regulated again… She wasn’t wrong, seeing as Felix took and destroyed her meager belongings she was going to need something to get her by.

Without a word he obliged his partner, stripping everything from the disemboweled dead man as Mardöll padded through the dewy morning light to a stream not far from the camp to clean herself up.

His body was still steaming, residual heat from his Solar subclass dissipating into the cool air and for a while Revenant lingered over the sight, committing the man’s form to memory, if the girl was capable of doing it once, she’d likely do it again...

Felix deserved every bit of violence the little Awoken inflicted on him, Revenant wouldn’t berate Mardöll for painting the small clearing sanguine. Not after what he’d been doing to her for weeks.

The interactions were harmless, even friendly at first. The man was patient enough if not a bit guarded, he’d never seen an Awoken before so his curiosity was understandable, his questions childish and amusing to Mardöll who laughed freely as she explained and answered what she could in the short days they traveled together. 

It wasn’t until he’d glimpsed her tattoos that he became different. 

She was bathing, as she was now, in the hip deep stream some thirty feet from camp and when she didn’t answer his question he went to see if she was alright, only to misread the markings that decorated the back of her neck, her shoulders, back and hips. 

Funny, how Eliksni scrawling closely resembled some of the ancient glyphs and runes inked across her smooth skin…

Something snapped in Felix then, his hand darting out to entangle in her silver hair, gripping to her scalp to jerk her back then forward to dash her head against one of the stream’s central boulders. 

Something about blood in lazily flowing, crystal water was beautiful on a primal level…

That was one of his remarks as the girl came around, strung up by her wrists from a low bough of the Oak tree they’d taken shelter under the night before. He’d shredded her clothes, used the strips to bind her and dismantled her weapons and armor… that nice Corsair rifle she was raised with now lay utterly broken and beyond repair. 

Blood stung her eyes, her wrists crackled as she twisted to try and see what he was doing, only to tense and grit her teeth as the cold alloy of a blade sliced smoothly across the back of her neck, just below her hair line…. The butt of the weapon struck the back of her head when she chanced to cry out….

Felix cracked out then, snapping sharply that he knew what her markings meant, that he knew what she really was: A slave of the Fallen. Her grey skin, glowing eyes...he should have known that they’d infused her with their Ether, had done something to change and bend her to their will so she could get close to other Risen and assassinate them and when she tried to dissuade him, to calm his fury and tell him how foolish he was his ire only rose.

For the next four weeks the man would slowly, agonizingly flay off strips of skin from her back. Disrupting the patterns and destroying the fine lines… Revenant couldn’t get close to her, Felix’s Ghost did everything in their power to drive him off and the man himself took potshots and swipes at him with intent to kill…

It wasn't until he settled in for the night that Revenant made his move. Having made up his mind and after running a couple tests involving smaller rocks and squirrels (which he left to feed the foxes denned not far away), the girl’s Ghost stored the largest stone he could find, swooped in and dropped the object square on Felix’s head, splitting his skull and slumping him to the dirt near the fire.

The Ghost was quick to dissolve the bonds that held his Risen aloft, flinching as she hit the ground with a groan, but that flinch was shattered with surprise with the explosive aftermath of her realizing her freedom.

Though she was naked and damaged she wasted no time in getting her hands on the closest thing to a weapon she could grip: The broken tip of one of Felix’s knives.  

Revenant didn’t have time to really react, didn’t know exactly what he would have done any way as the girl tore into the man while his Ghost revived him.

That had to be a rude wake up call…. Opening your eyes, your vision blurry because someone brained you with a huge rock, only to catch the glimmer of fire light along the clipped point of a knife tip as it plunges into your eye….

Sure, Felix’s Ghost tried their hardest to fend her off, slamming their shell against her head or hand to deflect the blade and Felix himself put up quite the fight….but in the end it was that Feral Savagery Mardöll would come to be known for that won out and it wasn’t until his intestines and other visceral organs hung about his knees and ankles that he finally tipped over and expired… 

And his Ghost…? The knife point had long been abandoned, when she gutted him she’d plunged her fingers into one of the many stab wounds to his abdomen and tore him open bare handed and as she plunged her hand back into his abdominal cavity to grab hold of his internals the man’s Light made a dive for Mardöll’s face.

Slicing across her nose the little machine wasn’t fast enough to evade the girl’s grabbing hands. Panicked it forgot it could vanish and soon the sound of wrenching metal and garbled, mechanical screaming filled the air...then...silence... 

That brought them to the here and now...to his naked corpse staring with one eye gouged out while the other was wide open and glassing over…

If she did it once, she’d do it again he was sure….

Her voice drew his attention, shifting his gaze from the dead man he floated towards the stream as she stepped out of the water. Revenant materialized one of the man’s blankets, letting her dry herself with it before he provided her with his clothes… they were about three sizes too big but a few tears and ties, tucks and knots and they would do. 

“....Let’s go….I don’t want to be here when the scavengers show up….”

The horizon was aglow with warm sunlight and the Risen’s progress was slow going at best, the aches of the last few months and the fight settling keenly in her bones. 

If anything, the encounter taught her one thing: Other’s couldn’t be trusted. 

#ic drabble #the past is the past #lessons learned #dark ages #risen #tw gore #tw death #tw violance #tw torture #tw implied nudity #tw blood #warm up post #slowly trying to return #expect to see more drable posts #and open starters #man I'm trying lol