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rippersz · 17 days

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𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Zombie Apocalypse AU w/ Gwendoline Christie characters; (~9.2K words)

(Featuring: Larissa Weems, Brienne of Tarth, Jane Murdstone, Anna from WTM, Lucifer Morningstar, Miranda Hilmarson, Captain Phasma, and Jan Stevens) x Reader

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It started about two months ago. Russia went down first, then Mongolia. China. India. And in the midst, Finland, Sweden, Norway, the United Kingdom, down to the very southern tip of Africa. The Ocean is no killer of disease, frozen or not, and encouraged it to ravage South and North America, then Canada and Greenland. Until every place was overrun by dead freaks. Stinking corpses and moving gore.

They traveled in herds, packs, whatever it was that people wanted to call them—murders, perhaps—and shuffled aimlessly across any land they could find. Eager for food, for sustenance, to fill the empty bellies that would never be full. Gorging themselves on creatures like you.

Officially ‘the other’. Officially ‘the enemy’. The sole survivor of a good group that was attacked some days ago because an idiot forgot to shoot one of the creatures in the head. And by sunrise, it was over. Screams echoed into the silence and you soon found yourself alone… running for your life with a duffle bag over your shoulder (slowing you down) and a gun in your hand (low on ammo). Trekking through thick woods in a heavily-infested Vermont town was not a good idea, but you had no choice. The house you were camping in was left behind, ravaged by bullets that you put into your friend’s heads, and every other spot nearby had been looted. You couldn’t move all of those bodies yourself. You couldn’t do much yourself. There was no army background attached to your name, no conspiracy theorist survival-obsessed gene in your body, and not much training in fighting either. All you could do was run. Run and run and run until you were miles away and your lungs started to burn. Not the most useful skill considering most people could run, but if you were quick enough to speed past the shuffling bastards, you were quick enough to make it to safety.

—

Safety…what a joke. A shit joke. A joke that was, quite honestly, the worst joke to ever exist. There was no safety. No place, nowhere. You’d been walking for a few hours, hearing nothing but the forest’s silence, and stumbling over leaves and branches. They ravaged the animals, took them into their mouths like they were people, and ate until there was nothing left. Not even a squirrel, or a fox, and the birds had grown weary of the vast number of hunters (both dead and undead) that found themselves in the woods looking for food. So no birds either. And no houses. And you were pretty sure, as you paused to catch your breath, that you were doomed.

Only a few bullets left and your aim was never perfect. One knife tucked into your waistband but it was getting uncomfortable, digging into your skin, and caked in blood. Creature blood. Everything smelled horrible. Like burning flesh or dirty meat, raw and soiled. You probably didn’t smell too good either. It wasn’t like the world still worked without the people; only a few places had running water and you couldn’t trust the creeks and rivers. The undead enjoyed walking through shallow water, knowing somehow that there’d probably be prey nearby.

But you hadn’t seen anything in a while. A long while. A suspiciously long while...

Everything was green and brown around you, whisked by wind and soil, and you stood out like blood against snow. The last thing you saw was yesterday. Ever since? Not a single flash of undead flesh.

You swallowed, throat embarrassingly dry, and tapped your fingers against your thigh.

It wasn’t good when everything was still. You were vulnerable, out in the open, and without a good few rounds of bullets to spare. Every muscle and organ in your body screamed for mercy, crying with the effort it took to keep surviving even when you didn’t want to.

You thought about it a few times; gave the gun in your hand a long look on several occasions, but ultimately decided that ‘opting out’ was only a last resort. Somehow, even amidst the chaos and hatred and swill of humanity’s nature, you managed to hold hope. And often wondered where it would get you. How it would get you. While you were sleeping? While you were already wounded? Fighting off the hands of a loved one? The twist of hope’s rope… would you feel it closing in around your neck? A literal metaphor for the eventual death you’d experience?

Thinking about it gave you a headache.

For where was the point in wondering?

You had no one else. Whatever form of death awaited, it would end up being your fault. Probably because you couldn’t run fast enough. Probably because-

Because-

Wait.

Somewhere behind you, on the right, was a low sound. A hum. The smooth whoosh of something quick. The parting of wind… the low growl of…

“Fuck.”

You shot off in that direction, bag smacking against your shoulder blades, and instantly felt the exhaustion pull at your body again. It lingered like a plague, like the undead disease, and you yearned to fall to your knees - to give in - but it wasn’t the time for that. You had to at least try. You had to at least make it over the hill. Right over the hill. So close but so far. You leaned forward, threw yourself at the ground, and grasped onto gnarled tree roots. The Earth smelled wet with decay, sweet with promise - you huffed against dry leaves. They crunched and scratched at your fingers, eventually crinkling into nothing when your arms worked to drag you up. You probably looked a little mad, scrambling up a steep hill to reach something that probably won’t save you, but there was no other option. The hum grew louder, the quiet was broken, and you only had a few moments to get this right.

“Help!” Your lungs caved around your scream, but the forest swallowed it instantly. Greedy trees with their greedy barks, wanting to keep you hidden from salvation. The hum grew louder. Your fingers grew clammy, sweating and slipping against rough wood.

You’d be bruised to high heaven later, and probably exhausted, but the hum and the growl of an engine meant a road and a road meant civilization and goddammit you just needed to get over the stupid fucking hill.

There was a loud ringing in your ears, nearly deafening, and making your voice sound fuzzy.

“Help! Help!”

Was that you? Were you the one screaming like that? Why couldn’t you be quiet? Those things could have been lurking… wandering nearby… coming up behind you, eager to grasp at your ankles and drag you back down to Hell.

A glance back over your shoulder, aching from the duffle bag, found nothing but blurred terrain and darkened leaves–a symptom of the setting sun. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. If the light went out, you’d be screwed. You couldn’t use the last of your matches and the world went black when evening struck. So there really was no choice. As the growl turned into a roar… there was no choice. Just a little higher- a little more. Your arms pushed, biceps straining against the cotton of your shirt, and your pants threatened to get caught on wayward sticks and tear into rags. The boots on your feet pressed hard against loose rocks, kicking them out of place, and gained just enough ground to push you up - over the ridge. The final stretch. Your chest pushed to the hard dirt and forced a grunt of effort from your tired body; the sound echoed through the woods, through the ground, and through the air that sat above the concrete road in front of you. Hard and vast, grey and long… you looked at it as though it were the holiest of grails, lying just beside it with your arms outstretched, your fingers still pulling at dirtied grass. Soil covered your skin, masked your features, caked beneath your fingernails, and when the roar of the speeding vehicle grew so close you had to close your eyes and wince, you knew raising a hand for help would not be enough. In the shade of the forest’s edge, half draped over the peak of the hill, you were inhuman to other survivors. Your dry mouth opened, your throat croaked, and your legs moved to push you up–closer–just short of the wind that caressed your hair when the car, the truck, ran past you with no second glance. You looked after it, watched it pass, and felt the burn in your heart grow into its own inferno. It licked at your insides, at your desperation, and had you hauling the duffle bag off of your shoulder and out onto the road. It rolled, a shuffling sound, and you followed after it with deep growls of effort and dwindling strength.

“Please,” you wheezed, panting for breath as soon as you staggered up to your feet.

In the distance, the car turned into a disappearing black spec. It drove and drove, out of sight, and you stood there, putting your arms in the air to wave it down and bring it back. To beckon it back. To beg and plead.

“Please please no-,” your voice was soft, weakened by days of rugged survival, “no…” rough and lost to the wind, it dissipated into nothing and you were forced to swallow again.

The thick smell of car exhaust settled against the steaming road. You watched the horizon, tracking the space in the atmosphere where the gold traced into a deep blue, and felt your bones quake beneath your skin. Their final cry. The last hurrah as you watched your future, the tatters of it, drive away from you.

Too late.

You were too late.

And you’d die there, on that road, and they may never come back and find you again in the morning. And your corpse would be chewed upon by undead bastards who would never give you a proper burial. And you’d be just another stupid human that found themselves trampled beneath the stinking feet of the walking dead.

Tears teased your eyes, burning the dry lands of your irises, and you felt the heart in your chest lurch against its cage.

Too late.

You were too late.

You had a duffle bag, a handgun somewhere off to the side, and the clothing on your back. One lasting water bottle, the knife you felt poking your side, and small bags of food that wouldn’t last you long at all. The tent, too, was destroyed by animals the night before. The most you could go was perhaps one more day, but your feet were aching so terribly that each step was a journey within itself. And you couldn’t push yourself to go further. There was no further. There was nothing in the woods and there was nothing beyond the road and you were running on fumes that no longer existed.

But you couldn’t just lie there and take it. You were about to reach over, bending at the waist, to grab your bag. To pull it up over your shoulder and trek on, even though it was pointless. But something stopped you.

Something–a sound–made you freeze.

It was faint. It didn’t sound like the undead, with their discordant groans and disgusting squelches, no… it was far. Getting closer. Closer. The hum and the growl. The purr of a motor. The hiss of pavement.

Your head snapped up, eyes bulging wide as you looked over the horizon to see…. Yes. Yes! Yes, it’s them! The car! A grin pulled at your lips. Halle-fucking-lujah! You felt the anxiety ebb, slowly falling away from your body, as they got closer. The black spec turned into a black blob, then a figure that took shape, and finally you could make out a Vermont license plate and the dirt that stuck to big wheels. Up close, it was a sleek thing, tall and well-built. Midnight black and aside from the splatter on the rubbered wheels, it was polished and clean. The dark paint reflected the bright world around you, turning it into weird warped versions of a faux-paradise. You swallowed at the feel of warmth against your legs, the exhaust from the truck flooding over the smallest sliver of skin around your ankles. Suddenly fearing a changed mind and bad intentions, you stumbled back until your heels pushed against your bag.

Tinted windows stared down at you, menacing and opaque. Not a thing to see behind them, even if you squinted. Nothing moved, nothing jumped, and you watched with bated breath for a window to roll down - until finally, it did.

The driver’s side. It went whirr-ing down, sliding for the shortest period of time in the world until only a shadow met you - and then a flicker of movement. And then-

“Oh my god! Jesus! Okay okay!” You flinched, not even hesitating to raise your hands above your head. You spread your fingers out, desperate to prove your innocence to the stranger in the car. And the gun they were holding, pointing at you, through the gap.

“Were you bit?” A rough voice, muted and deep, broke the atmosphere.

You shook your head.

“Words. Use them.”

“No,” you licked your lips, instantly deciding to turn around in a slow circle. “Not bitten. Not scratched.” You tried to ignore the way your hands shook, even as you shifted all the way back to face the gun’s muzzle.

“Ask where…” a voice, soft and feminine, came from somewhere beyond the driver’s seat. It was saying something, telling something, but faded into a whisper so quiet you couldn’t hear a thing. Your eyes shifted to the dark backseat windows, trying to see something- anything- and found no surprise in the lack of life.

“Any weapons?” The driver seemed to ignore the other person, and instead held the gun steady. You watched it with weary eyes.

“Yes.” And before they could ask, you tugged the knife out of your belt and the gun out of your pants pocket. They were held up in the air, another white flag, and you twitched the hand that held the firearm. “At least three bullets left, but that’s it.”

“And the others?”

You blinked. “Others? What oth-”

“Where is the rest of your ammunition? In the skull of a human or scum?” The stranger spat, and you detected the hints of an accent.

Scum… you’d never heard them referred to as that before. Your last group called them walkers, and some others claimed flesh-eaters. You were tempted to use ‘zombies’, but it felt rather silly. The world took that term too lightly, and the undead were nothing if not a very serious problem. But scum? Like they were beneath humanity and not its current destroyer? You’d ask about it later, you decided, if they deemed you well enough to take in.

“Both,” you breathed honestly, dropping your weapons to your sides with a heavy sigh. “They um- weren’t quite there yet. Got ambushed overnight.”

The gun still didn’t move.

“They don’t ambush. What really happened?”

Hm. They weren’t wrong. Animated corpses didn’t ‘ambush’, but when a herd of them went lurking about, it certainly felt that way. You didn’t think logistics were entirely necessary, but you understood the need for specifics. Trust among men was eviscerated in the face of danger, especially against those once living. You’d seen paranoia before, in others. Humans simply didn’t take each other in anymore… not without some level of severe mistrust. The second thought after seeing the truck drive off was that you probably wouldn’t be accepted anyway - you’d killed without technical reason. Could have just left. Run away.

But you didn’t.

You didn’t want to see them turn into those… creatures.

So what else was there to say? You stared at the gun, willing a click and the shot of a bullet, as you opened your mouth.

“A herd. A lot of them. Just… descended upon the place. Someone might’ve been walking around in the woods or something, and there was just not enough protection,” you paused, licking your lips, “...I was the last one alive. Had to shoot them and go.”

“How long since?”

“Few days, give or take,” you shrugged. The exhaustion only built as you stood there, trying not to sway and collapse in your spot. The truck was still running, hissing hot exhaust; it was the first genuinely warm thing you’d felt in so many days that you wanted to crawl underneath and take a nap. The world, turning to autumn, was growing chilly. There was no chance you could survive winter on your own.

“...Give or take,” you heard the driver scoff and laugh, bitter and mean. You frowned.

Then the window started going up, and you couldn’t help yourself. With a hard thunk, you pushed your shoulder hard against the car, and knocked on the thick glass with the butt of the knife. A look of utter desperation crossed your features, heavy and thick. Urgency, anxiety, fear forced any sense from your mind. There was no chance. There was no survival at all.

“No please- please I can’t be out here alone please- I’m smart and- and I can run fast and be an asset. Please,” you shook your head, searching with worried eyes, “please, please you can’t do this to me-”

Something dark spliced through the corner of your vision, dragging a shadow with it, and you just barely dodged the sudden swing of the truck’s backseat door. It bounced with force and you glanced back at the driver’s window once before stepping back and hastily swinging your bag over your shoulder. The knife and gun were slipped back into your clothing, concealed, and you held yourself strong as the black leathered interior bore itself to the world.

“-we can’t just leave them-”

“-on’t be stupid. They could be a liability-”

“-not stupid. We need more people-”

Voices, at least two, were rushed and tangled in an argument. You didn’t pay much attention to what you could hear, though the growing irritation was hard to ignore. It would be a hassle to be accepted, you knew, but you’d deal. There was no choice. The backseat door was open and there was a figure hustled back against the other window.

“The offer won’t last,” the stranger murmured, somehow louder than the two people in the front seats, and you decided not to take any chances in the world alone.

With a grunt, a push, and a final slam of the door, you found yourself in the truck. Your bag was pushed down by your feet, you tugged your knife out to rest it on your thigh, and you turned to say thank you- but was cut off by a cold blade at your throat. It grazed the soft dirty skin, less than a centimeter away from pushing, and you felt saliva pool in the back of your throat. Swallowing would have pressed you closer, so you fought the urge and only stared.

“Woah-”

“Try anything and you die. I don’t want a peep, not a shuffle. Do I make myself clear?”

The driver’s voice, clearer in such close quarters, was deep and mean. Accent, as you had clocked, from somewhere in the United Kingdom. It held a natural growl, a gruffness from years of smoking, perhaps, and you couldn’t help but sense the intimidation. It wasn’t fake confidence, you noticed, as you looked up and met the cool sharp grey gaze of a woman. Her hair, a deep blonde, was slicked back and short, ruffled slightly by the nape of her neck. A long neck… that led to strong looking shoulders. They were half covered by a jacket, but you could see the strength in the chords of her muscle. A force to be reckoned with. A leader, perhaps. She was pale, with a defined nose and lips twisted into a permanent sneer, and you probably would have thought she had some potential for post-apocalyptic modeling, if it weren’t for the scar that covered one half of her face. Slashed across the left eye, the wound was jagged and rough - it dragged from a point close to the exact middle of her forehead, right to the corner of her jaw. Thicker at parts and thinner at others, it split through a pale eyebrow and seemed to have permanently rendered her blind. The lid didn’t even move when one stormy eye shifted, and you suddenly felt extremely creeped out. Something about her was undeniably cold. Almost reckless, but her hand was so steady with control you knew not to make a move. She’d probably kill without hesitation, dump you back into the road, and drive off with the duffel. There was no choice but to answer, answer quickly, and do as told.

“Yes, clear.” Your head shifted half an inch up and half an inch down, still cautious of the blade.

But she didn’t move.

It was a battle of wills for just a moment, with your hands in your lap, empty and docile. You weren’t looking for a fight, or a staring contest, but the stranger didn’t let up until the figure to your right decided to sit up and speak.

“Ah they do not seem so bad. Look at them. Tired and scared, like sad city mouse,” another woman, one with a Russian accent and a voice a hint too loud, cooed.

Silence followed, persisted, for only a minute- and then the blade was tugged back so quickly you swear it nearly cut the air in two. The driver tsked as she twisted herself around, murmuring as she went.

“More like a rat.”

And then you were thrown to the side with a heavy wheeze as the truck lurched and began moving, working into a turn so you could go back the way they’d come.

You glared at the back of the headrest, not feeling above a little bit of irritation for some poor handling, but eventually grew bored. With some apprehension, your eyes flicked over to the person in the passenger seat. Their profile was strong, feminine, and you noted the unbelievably well-kept head of snowy hair. She looked clean, just like the driver, and a spark of hope welled up in your tired heart. Running water and food existed where they came from, wherever they were camped out, and if you played your cards right, you could finally indulge in some good hygiene. Unless the woman in the passenger seat was stingy with her water… god her skin was so clear, and she seemed to be wearing makeup. No one wore makeup anymore. Not the people in your old group and not the few stragglers you’d stumbled across. It simply wasn’t a necessary luxury anymore, but the woman sitting across from you, back straight and hands in her lap, seemed to think it was of the utmost importance. You wanted to speak, wanted to ask her name, but found yourself turning to your right - and catching the gaze of the person that opened the door for you.

“Anna,” your savior spoke, tilting her head to the left and regarding you with curious eyes. A pale hand, big and long-fingered, shot out and hovered above your lap. You glanced down at it, at the clean skin and the perfect fingernails, and knew that you hit the survivalist jackpot.

With a nod and a quick clasp of her hand, you whispered your name in reply. She nodded before leaning back against the door and crossing her arms; she seemed quite comfortable there, with a rather large gun resting across her lap. Her hair, blonde as well, fell in gentle waves to her shoulders. She saw with deep blue eyes - a contrast to the cold steel of the driver - and didn’t hesitate to flick them over your body in some sort of analytical search. Weapons, you figured, is what she was looking for. And the knife in your lap, which she eyed with some interest.

You wanted to say something, wanted to thank them, but it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough those days. Asking something of someone was a risk every single time. And you’d asked—begged—them to take you in. You needed to pull your weight, no questions asked.

“Um- thank you for-”

“Shoot them.”

“What?!” You straightened up, eyes going wide as, in your peripherals, you saw Anna’s hand inch toward her gun. Through the rear-view mirror, you caught the way the driver’s brow twitched.

“You heard me. Shoot them.”

“Pha-”

“I said no talking,” the stranger growled, not even bothering to address the woman in the passenger seat. The white-haired woman looked frustrated, her red lips tugging into a frown, as she watched the driver double down on her focus. “Didn’t I say that?”

“But I-,” you wanted to plead your case, wanted to defend yourself, but were cut off.

“I am not going to shoot,” Anna said before you could speak. “Why do you expect her to be quiet hah, Phasma? We just saved her жопa. No need for fighting.”

You glanced at her, picking up on the Native tongue. Fresh off the boat, or perhaps visiting, with the way she said it so easily. Zhopa? Given the context, it wasn’t hard to tell what she meant. Yes, they had just saved your ass. And yes, you wanted to say thank you. Even if that Phasma person wasn’t too keen on a bit of gratitude.

“I hardly think thanking us for a kind deed is worthy of execution, no matter how much silence you require,” the fair-haired woman across from you said smoothly, throwing a slight glare to the woman on her right. And finally, she took that moment to turn around in the seat and make eye contact.

Something that proved to be far more difficult than you thought it would. Good lord, she was gorgeous. Pale skin, deep admiral blue eyes, and lips redder than blood. Not even a scratch on her face, not even a single spec of dirt - as if the apocalypse never happened and there weren’t dead people roaming every street in the world. In fact, she didn’t seem incredibly worried about the predicament the human species found itself in, and was looking at you with kind eyes, a furrowed brow, and a smile that she hoped was welcoming.

“My name is Larissa,” her hand, gloved in white fabric as soft as silk, reached out as an olive branch. You wanted to take it, wanted to feel something so lovely for the first time in a long time and create some sort of bond, but your hands were very dirty. A part of you guessed that Larissa hadn’t put them on earlier that day with the hope to return to camp holding soft fabric smudged with dirt and dried blood, so you only looked down at your palm and then back at hers.

“Oh uh- I don’t wanna get your gloves dirty-”

“Oh,” she glanced down, realizing that she was, in fact, wearing hand-coverings. “Later, then,” a warm smile shone back at you - and you were helpless, instantly offering her a nod in return.

“Finished?” The driver piped up, eyes cold as she stared at you in the rear-view.

As if on cue, Larissa turned back around in her seat, rolling her eyes as she went, and you could only fall quiet. Introductions were over, you were warming up to the easy heat in the car, and Phasma–if you dared address her by name in your head–had a good handle of the wheel. You were safe. For now. And with one last suspended look at the gun on Anna’s lap, you reached over for the seatbelt, tucked yourself in with a click, and leaned back in the seat. It was so suddenly comfortable, such a huge contrast to the shit you’d dealt with recently, that you couldn’t help but close your eyes and revel. Even for a moment. Even for a second.

—

“Get up,” a mean grunt, paired with a quick rush of piercingly cold air, tugged you from the depths of sleep.

Before you could even open your eyes properly, a shiver set itself into your bones. Eager to escape it, and the confines of the car, you jolted and scrambled for your seatbelt. Leaning against the open door, watching you grab your things, was the driver. Phasma? Weird name, but there was no time to dwell - especially not when she was looking at you like that. Eyes sharper than the knife on your lap, holding a polished chrome pistol in one hand, and waiting with some tension for you to hurry up. The duffel was pulled up onto your shoulder, the knife was tucked into your belt, and your hands scratched at the leather as you looked around wildly for your gun.

“We took it. You’ll get it back when you prove you’re not a complete imbecile,” she spat, peering down her nose at you. Disgust danced in her expression, sparking flames of unwanted insecurity, and you felt compelled to look away. Her nostrils were flared, her pink lips curled into something disdainful and mean, and you couldn’t help but watch the way her jaw shifted as she tensed, watching you watch her. The hatred seemed a bit out of place, too strong for normal trust issues, and you briefly wondered if perhaps she’d always been that way - even before the end of civilization. She was clearly a bitch, and not interested in showing you kindness any time soon, so you decided to forgo a response, ignored her glaring, and slipped out of the car without a word.

Before your feet were completely on the ground, and your bag was out of the way, the door slammed closed behind you, quick and sharp. The speed of it nearly clipped your shirt, and you whirled around to face the stranger’s irritation. She seemed to have lost interest in you and side-stepped your figure without another glance. One finger on the trigger, a shit-ton of audacity-filled swagger in her walk, and a back broad and strong. She looked like an outlaw, tall, mean, wearing grey with a belt around her strong hips and a leather jacket over her shoulders. You wanted to throw your gun at her and watch it hit the back of her head, but there was no way in Hell you’d be able to run away faster than she could catch you.

“Come,” you heard Anna speak, interrupting your train of thought as she trudged up to your left. You turned, seeing the way she cocked her head. “I’ll introduce you.” The gun swayed in her grasp as she turned, making little shuffling sounds in the grass.

The grass.

You went to go forward, but stopped. The grass. It was… terribly neat. Very well maintained. Not like apocalypse grass, which was flat and bloodied and mudded and dusted, but like rich person grass. Striking green grass, healthy, it bounced back behind you when you stepped on it. And the air… you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. It was fresh. Pure. Free of the smell of death and free of gunpowder and spraying blood. Just where on Earth were y-

oh.

Oh.

You looked up, finally, and found yourself in a courtyard. On all sides was a wall, sections of it made of brick, others of stone, and the rest of wrought iron fence, bolted hard into the ground; and across the way, piercing the sky, was a manor. Or what looked like a manor. No - what was definitely a manor. Dark, illuminated slightly by the deep blue of the atmosphere and the torches that littered the ground in neat paths, splitting off into cobblestone sections. You swallowed. It was gorgeous. Untouched. A world that seemed to run on and on while the rest of the globe went to shit.

How fucking lucky were you?

“Come! I must say twice?!” Anna called, giving you an exasperated beckon as she started disappearing behind the dark stone brick of the main entrance.

Sparing a quick glance behind you, you found a fortified gate and short stone walls - reinforced and built upon with barbed wire, wood, and sheets of metal. It must have opened up for the truck when you were still asleep, but was very much firmly shut and impenetrable once closed. You wanted to explore it more, wanted to study the mechanism and the layout and come to understand just how they managed to get the place so protected, but you didn’t want to leave Anna waiting. And a low rumble of thunder, far but rolling quick, told you that rain was eager to make her appearance - and you did not want to get caught in that.

After adjusting your bag and patting the knife in your belt for reassurance, you set off after the Russian stranger.

—

“So I am Anna, this you know already,” she pointed to herself, tapped her chest twice, then rolled her hand over to gesture to the clearing ahead.

It was beautiful, outlined against a dark wood. Rocky paths led to a big circle in the middle, and the ruins of stone benches and statues littered the camp. You could definitely see what it used to be - a beautiful place for the elite to sit, to bask, to enjoy the nice air and the wind. But the end of the world had gotten to it, not with the bearings of total destruction, but with the promise of change. A big spruce shelter had been built to the far left, reinforced with four beams and no walls - clearly just meant to keep the rain at bay while they worked outside. Beneath it, there were wooden benches and designated spots for farming equipment, guns, and even a water purifying system from the looks of it. If you assumed that sleeping quarters and showers existed in the castle, then they seemed to be in the best shape anyone could be in.

Even the people, who were busy going about their evening and tending to their duties, while you watched by Anna’s side and felt your excitement grow.

“Phasma was woman driving. Not so kind,” she tsked, giving you a knowing look, and you found yourself unable to ask about the strange name. You figured she wouldn’t have known the answer anyway. Then her hand moved, stealing your attention. “That is Jane,” she pointed to a pale woman sitting on one of the large stone benches.

Her back was turned, but you could see the severity of her expression in the reflection of a hand mirror. She was handsome, free of makeup, with jet-black hair. The strands fell from between her fingertips, spilling like water, as she threaded them into a braid around her head. Her movements were slow, methodic, and you watched, sort of hypnotized, as the long sleeves of her hooded dress stretched across her slim back. Tight along her arms and resting over the black pants covering her thighs, leading down to knee-high leather boots. Fit for an apocalypse, but somehow still chic. You watched her hands for a moment more, and turned slightly to her right when Anna gestured to the woman beside her.

“Miranda. Good girl, but way too skinskie,” she nodded to herself while crossing her arms.

The stranger in question–Miranda–was holding up an antique hand mirror for Jane to look into while doing her hair. They seemed to be the same height, though Miranda’s build was lankier and toned. The sleeves of her white top had to have been torn off, leaving freckled shoulders free to the air, and around one wrist was a black watch. It nearly matched the same leather as her belt, which held an attached holster and a sleeve for a walkie-talkie. Its antenna stood out against the baby blue of her uniform pants; tight by the hips but baggier toward the ankles, tucked into dark laced boots. Her hair was styled into a fair blonde bob, probably recently cut by the sight of such clean edges. It looked unbearably soft kissing the back of her neck.

“She was policewoman. Strong.” Anna commented, gazing at her from your spot by the castle wall.

You nodded absentmindedly, looking over the two strangers and the chess board that sat between them on the bench. Jane had black and Miranda white. The latter seemed to be focusing quite hard on the game, holding a pawn loosely in one hand, as the dark-haired beauty tsked and adjusted the hand mirror that slowly slipped to the side. You watched Miranda jump and offer what you assumed was a sheepish apology, as she tried to multitask. Her small smile was pink and soft, warm and welcoming. A friend, perhaps.

“Very…domestic,” came your soft murmur, sparked by the surprise of such a peaceful camp. In the past group, everyone was too busy trying to sleep, find food, or talk themselves through panic attacks. Maintaining sanity with comfort was not a priority.

“Da. Comfortable,” your companion nodded. “Jan is there, washing.” And you turned, yet again, to find a figure standing in front of a clothesline.

The combat boots made her seem tall, though they were a bit out of place—not really matching the long white sleeved shirt and full red skirt combo. Immaculate and clean, you noticed, though that was to be expected from a woman trying her hardest to get blood out of a white blouse. Her hands were covered by blue rubber gloves, with one clutched around a sponge and the other around the neck of a bottle of white wine vinegar. On the ground by her feet was a large pale jug of hydrogen peroxide and a bucket of what you assumed was water. And the blouse in front of her, held up by wooden clothespins, rippled from the breeze. It seemed to get colder and windier the longer the night went on, probably bringing the rain with it at some point. With any luck, it would clear up the light splotches of pink that covered most of the shirt’s chest up to the collar, but ‘Jan’ didn’t seem too patient and satisfied with that. She got back to her scrubbing a moment later, the strict waves of her blonde hair bumping gently against her neck.

“Jan is very chic. You go to her for fashion advice, no?” Anna tilted her head at you, dragging dark blue eyes over your face. The lawn lamps stabbed into the grass lit everything up with a sweet warm glow, bringing out the flames in her expression as she peered at you curiously. Very handsome, in her own sharp-featured sort of way. You couldn’t help the snort that bubbled up.

“Respectfully, I think fashion is the least of my concerns right now, Anna.”

“Hm. Maybe,” she hummed, shrugged, and gave you a once-over that set your heart racing before turning her attention back to the group.

“Brienne!” You jumped, flinching away as Anna’s loud voice carried into your ear. In the distance, a hulking figure shifted and unfolded, moving to look up at the call. They were sitting on a big pile of cut logs, holding a stone cylindrical sharpener in one hand and a… sword… in the other. Anna waved, talking to you gently as you both watched the figure’s expression change into one of suspicion. She was handsome. Pale, with the lightest blonde lashes and brows, and eyes that sparkled even from that distance. They squinted, drawing frown lines across her face, as she straightened up in her spot. You tried desperately not to stare at her figure, but it was impossible. The deep blue ribbed shirt clung to her torso like a second skin, wrapping tightly around strong biceps and broad shoulders. It was tucked into muddy green cargo pants, offsetting the brightness of the steel that covered the toes of her dark boots. You tilted your head and watched as she glanced between you and Anna before she finally decided to shoot the woman a firm nod. Anna’s lips quirked up into a smile. “She was once soldier. Good woman - she will protect you if you’re in trouble. Saved me many many times.” Her blonde curls swished as she nodded to herself.

That was good to know, you reasoned. Everyone seemed quite strong. Tall, too. And pale. The camp was gorgeous, the people seemed mundane enough, and the company was… well. Your eyes drifted over to Anna’s side profile, a silhouette of soft dips and curves, and you couldn’t hide the attraction you felt even if you tried.

“Larissa, you know too. She is leader, xорошо?” You didn’t really know what ‘harasho’ meant, but the light intonation of her voice had you saying ‘Yeah’ anyway.

Then an arm was winding itself around yours, jostling the bag on your shoulder and the gun slung around Anna’s body. It rested against her back, hitting her thighs, and you were suddenly powerless to the way she steered you further down the gravel path. Toward the right, there was a makeshift driveway; a patch of land ripped up from the grass and replaced with gravel, soil, and rocks. The black truck made an appearance again, probably having been driven up from around the back, and you watched with curious eyes as Phasma busied herself with a few bags and boxes from the trunk. Jesus, she was fit… tall and lethal. A small grunt left her lips when she hauled two boxes up into her arms, never faltering or pausing. Damn. You found yourself getting lost in the sight of her legs in those cargo pants, filling them out, until Anna clicked her tongue.

“Lucifer is strange, but ultimately harmless. Do not worry, they are not naked under the robe.”

Lucifer? Naked under the what?

You were going to take a quick glance around, to find whatever the hell Anna was talking about, but there was no need. Some feet in front of you, lounging on a red and gold velvet chase, was a lithe figure. They were almost glowing in the reflection of the walkway lamps, with the deep crimson of a flowing silk robe offsetting the smooth pale planes of soft skin. One elbow was propped up on the arm of the chair, and you traced the folds of flowing sleeves up to a slim forearm, wrist, and a delicate hand. Slender fingers were curled under the curve of a pale cheek, and you felt your heartbeat speed up at the sight of soft features and crystal eyes. And their hair, curled so perfectly into handsome shining ringlets of spun golden-web… goodness, they were…

“Luxurious,” you murmured, tilting your head as you watched the stranger chat with Larissa. She was standing over them, in front of the chase, and even at that height, you had a feeling that the one laying down was somehow a little bit taller. “Is Lucifer their real name?”

“Da,” Anna nodded, “little strange, no?”

“Yeah,” you gave her an odd look. “Strange as fuck.”

“Don’t get comfortable,” a voice growled from behind you, making you slip away from Anna’s hold and turn around. Phasma was walking past, holding a big bag under each arm. Her muscle was impressive, but dear god she was an asshole. You had to sort out that situation as quick as possible.

“Hey what’s your problem, man?” You spread your hands out at your sides before letting them slap against your thighs. “You picked me up, and while I’m grateful for that, I am, you didn’t have to-”

“Exactly,” she bit out as she whirled around and marched right back to you. Her breath was cool, washing lightly over your face, and she stood so close that your foreheads nearly touched. From that angle, looking up, you could reach out and trace the jagged line of her scar. It was quite attractive actually, even if her eyes narrowed as she watched you look at her. They were cold. Not an ounce of care.

“Don’t. Get. Comfortable.” Her lips twitched, carrying a silent threat.

“Okay,” Larissa’s voice, sing-songy and weary, cut into the conversation. “Why don’t we all take a moment to calm down, hm?” Her smile was blinding as she turned to you. One gloved hand hovered above Phasma’s right shoulder, but was instantly shrugged off the second it made contact. Her sneer didn’t fade even when she stepped back, eyes still flaming with anger. Larissa cleared her throat. “Y/n, you’re new here. Why don’t you and I have a little chat?”

Her expression, although kind, hid a sharpness that you didn’t think was wise to fuck around with. If Larissa was the leader, according to Anna, then it was her you had to charm. You didn’t really know why she was the top dog, especially because some of the other group members seemed more… abrasive… but clearly something about her was good enough to be the one in charge. And pissing her off, messing around with her people, was a one-way ticket to possibly turning into those fuckers lurking in the woods. So you didn’t really have a choice - and you didn’t really want one. No matter what, you’d stay. You’d be of some help. You’d stay on the soft grass, smelling the clean air. You’d become best friends with Larissa, the group would learn to like you, and you’d try not to combust when any of them looked your way.

Easier said than done though, of course. Especially when Larissa’s smile knocked down all of your reservations at once, in one big swing, and coaxed an obedient nod from your body.

“Okay. Yes. Sure.”

“Perfect,” Larissa’s grin, somehow, grew even wider.

“It’s getting late,” were Phasma’s parting words before she turned away and headed off toward two big wooden double doors.

You watched her strut without much thought, and found yourself on the other end of a staring Larissa. Her eyes were utterly striking in the evening light, and the outline of her face… a sight to be seen for a person as weary as you.

“So… is your group considered women only?” You murmured, peering up at her through your eyelashes.

Red lips twitched.

“Not intentionally. Though we have had the discussion before,” she contemplated her next words carefully, looking all over your face before resuming, “and we think it’s best if it’s just women. And Lucifer.”

“And Lucifer?” You still can’t get over that being their real name. Probably just picked out in a moment of edginess when they were a teen. Lucifer did sound cool, sort of bully-worthy. Like they were emo kid once upon a time.

“Lucifer is what many would refer to as non-binary. Not a man and not a woman. I hope that won’t be a problem?” Something flashed behind her eyes. Not a threat, but a warning. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Not at all. They and I are… one and the same,” you shrugged and adjusted the bag on your shoulder.

“How lucky I must be…,” someone purred from over your shoulder.

You tensed up, surprised by the closeness, and felt yourself grow a little weak at the tone. Like spiced honey, their voice was intense and smooth. You wanted to lap it up.

“Ah right on time for a proper introduction,” Larissa, ever the most efficient woman from what you could tell so far, found herself a golden opportunity. One hand shot out and gestured over to you, then to the person slinking around to your right. “Y/n this is Lucifer, one of the strongest members of our group. Lucifer and I make most of the big decisions, with the necessary input from everyone else. And Lucifer,” Larissa’s grin relaxed into a smile, “this is Y/n. Depending on our discussion of the rules, they may become a familiar face, so I suggest you play nice.”

You found that you couldn’t look to the side without short-circuiting. There was something.. something… about their aura that had you wanting to shy away and cower. It wasn’t the explosive intensity of Phasma or the consuming strangeness of Anna, or even the gentle but strong hand of Larissa… but instead a subtle sort of consumption. Utterly intriguing and fascinating - like they were put on the Earth to confuse humans. You didn’t even look at them and you could feel that. Didn’t even know them and you could feel that. Standing so close. So much body heat.

“It’s a pleasure,” they murmured, turning to you fully.

You swallowed, braced yourself, and looked up to your right.

Sweet holy Jesus. They were even more handsome up close. Just absolutely soft and glorious. And carrying the faint scent of… firewood? You cleared your throat.

“Um yeah- likewise. Hi.”

A flash of black, followed by measured footsteps in the grass, had all three of you shifting to see Jane walking past. Miranda was not too far behind, taking her time to cross the yard.

“Dinner is being prepared. Show face in the next 20 minutes or go to bed hungry.” Jane didn’t even spare you a glance before she disappeared behind the same doors Phasma had gone through.

“Thank you, Jane,” Larissa managed to call just before they closed behind her with a dull bang.

“Three moves…,” Miranda was muttering, holding the box for the chess set in one hand. “She beat me in three moves.”

“Oh it’s not hard. I would’ve beaten you in two,” another voice entered the fray, polite but amused. Jan, you recognized, as she sidled up between you and Larissa with a small smile on her deep red lips.

Miranda scoffed and turned to look at Anna, only to find that she was gone. One glance behind you revealed that she’d wandered over to Brienne, probably prompting her to go inside for dinner. You hummed, hiding the amusement of friendly banter. It had been so long since you felt even the smallest sense of normalcy. If they were so comfortable with each other, then it must have been a bit since they were all alone out in the world. You’d probably ask Larissa about that later - once everything was said and done.

“I would’ve beaten you in one,” Lucifer smirked as they pulled away and went walking inside. Had they been barefoot the entire time?

“That’s not even possible!” Miranda yelled, but the door was already shut. “...Is it?” She turned to Larissa, then to you, then back to Larissa.

“I don’t think so, Miranda,” Larissa smiled before looking at you. “Any chance you’re good at chess?”

Dear lord, having two sets of beautiful blue eyes on you was nerve-wracking, but you ignored the flush building up on your cheeks and nodded.

“Um yeah- it’s possible to beat someone in two moves. But it’s only black, I think.” You gave Miranda an apologetic smile and a shrug as she pouted.

“You will beat her next time Miranda,” Anna returned with Brienne in her wake. The sword she was sharpening earlier was still in her hands. “She cannot win forever.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Brienne cut in, her voice strong and deep. Her mouth was pulled into a light frown, and you noticed the scar that cut through the upper lip on the right. From the time before, you suspected. Otherwise she’d be turned. “She beat me and Phasma one after the other.”

Miranda sighed, tsking beneath her breath.

“Then there’s no hope…” Goodness, she looked like a sad puppy.

“Why not?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could grab it.

And of course, all of the attention then dragged itself over to you. Five sets of sea-blue eyes, all gorgeous in the glow of the evening lamps, traced lines over your tired body. In comparison to them, you looked a sight. Obviously having been picked up from the side of the road, unclean and awkward, somewhat detached from society. In your bag? Not enough clothing and not enough supplies. In your belt, peeking out from beneath your shirt? A knife, dirty and growing dull. And in your eyes? Lurking sadness and horror - the same which probably lived in the women that were observing you.

Larissa, thank goodness, finally broke the lull of silence.

“Brienne and Phasma were in the military,” she said gently.

“Oh. That makes sense.” And it did - Jane must have been an intellectual force if she beat people that used to be in the military before the world ended. Though that made you wonder… “What branch?” You turned to Brienne, not really surprised that you had to look up to meet her eyes. It seemed you’d been adopted into a camp of skyscrapers. Though the sharpness of her eyes had you swallowing. “I mean- if you don’t mind me asking.”

She seemed to consider it, sizing you up, before saying, rather shortly, “SAS. Then Delta Force.”

You couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened.

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed,” Larissa hummed. “But I think now would be a good time to head in, wouldn’t you say?” She spared her smile for everyone, meeting the gaze of each woman, before finally looking at you and raising her eyebrow.

It wasn’t really up to you, so you just shrugged and waited for Anna to say ‘Da, da, xорошо’ before heading in. Brienne followed after her, then Miranda, who was studying the back of the chess box, and Larissa, who started taking off her gloves. Jan, meanwhile, stayed where she was and kept her eyes on you. They were curious and deep, never-ending, and lined with mascara and eyeliner. Mascara and eyeliner that… well it suited her, but goodness it was certainly intense. Dark and shadowed, but beautiful nevertheless. You couldn’t look away.

“Jan Stevens,” she breathed and gave you her hand, elegant and admittedly quite charming. Her nails were painted a deep cherry red. Utterly flawless.

At the sight of it, you weren’t entirely sure what to do. Your palms were still dirty, and sort of calloused, and you didn’t want to… ruin her. So you hesitated, stared at it, looked back up at her, and found her kind smile to be unwavering.

“Go on,” Jan finally whispered, giving her hand a pointed look, and you fell prey in an instant.

Quickly, you shot out to gently cup her hand into your own, and gave it a gentle shake. You felt strangely compelled to bring it up to your lips, but you weren’t sure that meeting a stranger in an apocalypse really called for such formalities. Even though you yearned to feel her skin beneath your mouth. It wasn’t proper; though you did think that Jan’s expression fell just a little bit. Like she was excited. Like she wanted you to kiss her hand.

“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she purred, looking you up and down, before turning toward the door. “Come quickly now. If we’re late, Jane will send us off to bed without dinner. And we wouldn’t want that.”

It probably would have been wise to consider and contemplate the fact that you were in a stranger’s camp, with a stranger’s group… but the saucy little wink that Jan threw over her shoulder sent a deep blush crawling up your cheeks. And just like that, without fail, you were one of the flesh-eaters… caught in the pretty paws of eight different beasts.

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Please let me know if my characterization is okay and if you'd like to see more. Be safe, darlings. - Rip x

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Far too many names to tag. Find it as you come.

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huramuna · 2 months

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even in undeath - chapter 1.

lich king aemond x reader a 'world of warcraft' AU. prev | next

The Lich King is the master and lord of the Scourge. Consisting of thousands of walking corpses, disembodied spirits, beasts of the north, and damned mortal men, the Scourge is a terrifying and insidious enemy.

word count: 2.3k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

content: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, DUBCON, smut, heavy heavy angst, graphic depictions of violence, allusions to cannibalism, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, suicidal thoughts and ideation, mutilation of corpses, obsessive aemond, dark aemond, a happy ending is not in our future. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS! This story will be pretty dark.

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It was dark and cold. There was a faint dripping of water somewhere off to the side, but you couldn’t quite see where. The echoes of whimpers ricocheted off of the craggy walls, stinging your eardrums.

This was the descent into madness, wasn’t it?

You weren’t sure how long you’d been chained up for— how long had it been since your village burned to the ground? Since you watched the ghouls rip apart the cow farmer from down the road. Since you watched hellhounds crunching on little Mary Jay’s bones. Since you had watched your mother and stepfather plead and beg for their lives, for forgiveness, for mercy, for absolution of their supposed sins before the death knight’s sword lopped their heads off.

How long has it been?

Shifting slightly, the chain tied to your throat clinked against the wall. There was no light, no passage of time to be had in the dank, pitch black cave they stowed you and a few select others in. You only had on a ragged potato sack as a dress, the sensation of dirt and grime caked on your hair and under your nails making you feel less than human.

But— you were still human. For now. The Scourge had ravaged the Eastern Kingdoms without mercy, swiping through the North and South like a fast traveling plague, curdling and damning everything it touched. Hordes of undead zombies, ghouls and hellhounds were the first to raze the cities, driving out the people like mice from the walls. Then the banshees came, along with the necromancers to raise the dead, adding them to a forever amounting army.

Not even Quel’thalas had been able to resist it, an ancient elven city hewn in magic.

What chance did you have?

More than most, evidently. Your mind wrought itself over and over as to why— why were you alive? Why were you still human and not merely a risen thrall?

The clinking of armor scared you as it ascended the hallway. You pressed close to the wall and closed your eyes.

Please don’t stop here, please don’t stop here.

Clink, clink, clink… closer… closer…

Then it passed, descending further away. You let out a breath, your blood still pumping in your ears.

Clink, clink, clink. They were coming back. Clink… silence. You felt bile rise in your throat as you shook, the chains rattling noisily. You knew they were standing there, you knew they were here for you.

A harsh tug upon your chain, your head hitting the floor— some words were mumbled, the voice sounding far away and broken. Your eardrums rang with the ferocity of your fall, drowning out any semblance of what your jailer was saying to you. Then, you were tugged upward, the cool metal of the collar biting into your skin as you were dragged like a petulant child away from your cell…

You didn’t want to open your eyes. You couldn’t face the horror you knew was around you— corpses, living ones and dead, the clatter of bones, the heavy breathing of gargantuan abominations, bodies and faces of countless people stitched together into a new body, hewn with thread and necrotic magic until it gave way to something else entirely. Something unnatural, something made of nightmares. The dermis of those who were used to make the monsters would still twitch, reach out on its own, and if it had a mouth, it would be twisted into a scream. You swore that you heard them whispering as you were dragged by.

The monstrosities were one of many abhorrent creatures at the Scourge’s disposal. Hellhounds, ghouls, gargoyles, wraiths, crypt lords, geists, banshees, and other things of horrific nature were only some of the power wielded by the Scourge. It felt like it was all pulled out of a child’s fairytale, changed and twisted and defiled into what it was now.

It all felt like a very bad dream.

Your eyes opened on their own and you took in the image of death knights, former paladins who served a higher power, the Light— now are nothing but undead heretics, glowing eyes and gaunt stares that bored through you.

Some of the monsters chittered as you were dragged past them, leering and looking hungry.

‘Scrawny that one. Perhaps she will suffice for hellhounds to pick their teeth.’

‘Speak for yourself, her skin will do beautifully on a new abomination.’

‘She won’t be knighted. Merely a maid’s bastard, I’ve heard.’

You forced your eyes to close once more, the sudden light stinging them. You forced yourself into another time, a better memory than what you were experiencing.

They were right, you were a maid’s bastard. Your mother had served in the royal keep for years, with you under her feet. You didn’t know who your true father was, nor did you care.

You became attached to the second son of the King— Aemond Targaryen. He was a sprightly boy with near white hair and luminous violet eyes. The two of you were attached at the hip.

Childhood friendship blossomed into more as you grew into teenagers and young adults— you shared your first kiss together, you held hands and shared sweet nothings. As he trained by day to become a paladin of the Light, he held you close by night, vowing to never let you go. You were both terribly in love and so terribly, terribly naive. He was your first in everything– your first friend, your first kiss, your first lover. You promised yourself that he would stay your first and only.

‘You can never marry a maid’s bastard, Aemond! You’re a prince of the realm-‘

‘I don’t care! I want her, father. I’ve always wanted her!’

Your mother quit her job at the castle— moreso, threatened into quitting by some of the King’s advisors. She was given a considerable amount of coin and told to take you far, far away and to not contact the prince again.

Heartbroken, you left him your sapphire ring, the only thing of value you ever had, which had been passed down through your mother’s family for generations.

It was left on his desk with a note of few words but much feeling.

‘I love you. I’m sorry.’

That was over ten years ago. You hadn’t seen him since, but you missed him horribly. Especially now. You wondered if he was still alive, fighting against the Scourge like his knightly vows dictated.

Maybe he was married and moved across the sea to Kalimdor where it was safer.

Or maybe he was dead. Dead like almost everyone else you knew.

You heard a rumor, fleeting and without much more information, that his father had died– no, that his father had been murdered. The fall of the king, Viserys, is what started the Scourge war. Did Aemond know, wherever he was?

You imagined him holding his arms around you, kissing your neck and fanning his breath over your skin. He liked to encompass you completely with his body when you laid together— you never could emulate the feeling with heavy blankets and pillows, as much as you tried. Putting yourself back into that memory, you wrapped your arms around yourself, willing warmth into your body.

But you didn’t feel any warmth. All you felt was cold, cold down to your bones. They felt brittle, like ice, splintering into shards as you were thrown on the floor again in a different room. Pain bloomed in your arm as it cracked at an awkward angle. Broken.

Your ears rang again as your mouth opened into a scream, tears of pure anguish squeezing from your eyes. But you didn’t hear a thing besides the rush of blood dampening your senses— and the sickening crunch of your broken bones.

‘What have you done to it, Lady Deathwhisper? It looks broken.’

‘It’s human bones are so brittle, it was merely a slip of the hand. I cannot help that their living constitution is so weak.’

‘His grace will not be pleased if it is broken beyond repair.’

‘Worry not, Lady Alys. Most things can be mended— and if not, it can always be raised.’

‘Physical defects aren’t the only issue. What of its mind?’

You feel an acute sensation over your skull, reaching into the depths of your cranium. Its cold, but not stinging— like a soft caress upon your brain as your mind is rifled through like a tome. You can feel your memories being perused, all of the most intimate moments of your life flashing in your head like playwright’s prose. The physicality of your mind being invaded wasn’t painful, but the act of your memories being ripped from you was damning. Tears fell down your face on their own, your mouth opened into a silent scream.

‘She is the one— I saw it. You are lucky that you did not break her mind completely, Lady Deathwhisper.’

‘As are you. You do not have a deft hand when it comes to memory perusal, Lady Alys. I am surprised that it still has a brain in its skull.’

‘Shut up and bring her to him. He will be pleased she is still alive. Barely.’

You felt yourself being moved again, still reeling from the invasion of your mind. You tried to put yourself back into the safe haven of memories, but they were… locked. Locked behind an iron door with no keyhole. They were lost to you.

What were you trying to remember?

Flashes of white hair and violet eyes flitted behind your eyelids, soft caresses and kisses, heavy breathing and love filled promises, the sensation of skin to skin…

Your eyes opened, vision bleary. A helmed woman followed behind you, wings outstretched. You could see the glint of green eyes under her helm. Val’kyr. The woman behind you was a Val’kyr, a spirit guide who defected to the side of the Scourge. They could move between the realm of living and dead as simply as taking a breath.

“The little human is awake,” she mused. “Your mind isn’t broken after all? I do see a glint of intelligence behind those eyes. Keep them on me, you shan’t wish to look upon Lady Deathwhisper.”

You didn’t want to speak, words caught in your throat like food stuck in your craw. A val’kyr was basically an angel of death and talking to one must mean you are dead.

You wish you were.

The chains scraped against the floor, which was no longer stone like before, but rather, hardened ice. You were ascending upward, it seemed. The architecture of the building was nothing like you’d ever seen— dark metal was plated upon the walls, inscribed with glowing runes. The runes looked… familiar to you, somehow. But the memory that contained them was locked away, or mayhaps stolen by the Val’kyr, Alys.

The temperature was cold, you were being lofted upon ice, of course, but you didn’t wholly feel it. You were partially numb, heat radiating from your broken arm. You knew you should be feeling pain— but you were just… numb.

Your escorts stopped in front of two large doors, inscribed with the same glowing runes. Against Alys’ advice, you glanced at ‘Lady Deathwhisper’. She was skeletal, floating upon the ground with no legs to speak of. Her robes were purple fabric, molded around an incorporeal body. She spoke in a language you didn’t understand, the scratchy voice of hers coming out of a bone skull, but the mouth wasn’t moving, maw open as the words came out.

You should have listened to Alys.

The door opened with a rumble, opened by ancient magic, likely imbued by the runes, as they flickered and flitted above your head as it opened. The room beyond was open and bereft of almost anything, except for a throne. A throne forged of ice and swords.

Someone was sitting upon it in a lazed position, one plated gloved finger tapping on the arm of the throne.

“We’ve brought her, your grace,” Lady Deathwhisper growled, shoving you forward. You skidded across the floor, which felt slick like grazing atop an ice-capped lake. “Alys confirmed it is her.”

The clinking of armor caught your attention, the sound of metal grazing against ice. It was irritating and made you grind your teeth. As whoever was on the throne got closer, the force was oppressive. Whimpers and tiny cries were ripped from you as they walked towards you, the aura exuding from them causing you to fall flat to the ground, feeling as if someone was sitting atop of your chest and not letting up.

The steel plated boot was in front of you now and your hair was grabbed rather harshly, pulling you up.

Don’t look, don’t look. You cannot look.

“Look. At. Me.” the voice growled. It was quiet but commanding at the same time, rattling in your bones and making a home amongst the marrow. It felt familiar… so…

You lifted your bloodshot eyes, not out of your own volition, but from the authority of the voice.

“Hello, little dove.” he mused.

It was him. It was… it… Aemond. You knew him so well, even with ten years gone. His chiseled jawline and chin and the dimple of the tip of his nose…

But his eye was missing, a jagged scar bisecting it. In its place was a sapphire. The sapphire from your ring, grown into something to make home in the socket.

You felt everything and nothing all at once, your stomach flipped and flopped like a fish hoisted from the sea, sputtering for air. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t–

Your best friend, your lover, the one you vowed to never forget, to never forsake.

Aemond Targaryen.

Aemond Targaryen was the Lich King. A defiler, a mass murderer, an unholy being in his own right.

“Now you won’t be able to leave again, will you?” Aemond murmured, his violet eye roving you. It was glowing slightly– his skin was a pale gray pallor, cheeks sunken slightly. He was undead.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, vision going black.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond smut #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #my writing #even in undeath #hotd au

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radiance1 · 1 year

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A random au thought that I barely thunk up before splotching it on here.

So basically, Danny, Sam, and Trucker are doing some bullshit thing and somehow manage to create a whole ass world out of a tabletop game they were playing or something.

Basically DnD I guess.

But anyways, the three create this world so that they can play and do whatever they want. All three of them have legends about themselves from the npc's they's inhabited the world with.

Tucker is the Pharaoh of the night less desert, known as Duulaman. Freeing the citizens from the rule of the Tyrant god Abanoub and brought peace and prosperity to all across the land.

Sam is the Queen of Nature known as Terra, directly on par and sharing interests with Mother Nature. Her legend is that she freed the Forest of Vita and defeated a powerful void entity who sought to use the powers of Gaia to further its own ends for power. Joining forces with Mother Nature who almost fell to its corruption to end the void being once and for all.

Danny, known as Astraeus, unlike the other two, have two different aspects to his legend. Prince of the undead, and the constellation Star Child.

The first one as you should know, is basically Danny being the prince of ghosts, wherein in the world they made the ghosts (and extending too other undead), were disorderly and running rampant among the other races in the continuation of a war that should have longed ended. So, he rounded then all up and took control because the person who was originally supposed to be doing it was... indisposed.

(Cough, real reason is that Pariah Dark somehow got his ghostly hands on the world cords and was like "Hmmm, my son's world is awfully boring time to spice things up" and then shit happened.)

Which in turn, ended the eons long war between ghost kind and the other races.

Constellation Star Child is one he kind of got on accident, his friends made a joke about him being the spawn of death and time itself and being molded from a star. Which the npc's took seriously.

Also doesn't help that he goes out to explore the void and space around their world on numerous occasions to identify any threats that would require his attention (Which is literally just an excuse so he can go and explore space to his hearts content.). And whenever he comes back, it's like a shooting star falling down to earth.

So, after they've done all of their adventures and when it was time for them to just scrap this world and move on. They just, couldn't.

This world grew extremely on them during their time in it (Despite the unexpected inclusion of Pariah Dark), and they just didn't want to destroy it so they just, stayed.

Not like stay stay, more so they come back to it a lot more than they should. Fermenting themselves as these deities or god-like beings who protect and care for their followers or something.

They created a space for the three of them to converse, known simply as the council. A realm sitting on the plane of reality between the world and the void, basically heaven but not really heaven?

Anyways.

So, continuing on with this, the trio splits apart, a feud in reality carrying into their game world that caused Danny to just leave and explore the calmness of the cosmos so he can clear his head.

Sam went to Mother Nature to talk about it and seek aid about the recent crack in three's friendship.

Tucker just went to take care of his kingdom and confide in one of his trusted advisors, much like Sam.

This is when something unexpected happened. Danny never came back to that world, not as if he went back to his reality.

He just never came back.

Something is keeping him from going back, some powerful threat that he's keeping at bay with all of his might while out in the endless nothingness that is the void.

With the absence of his presence, a powerful void creature who managed to slip between the cracks of Danny's notice suddenly sees he's not there anymore for an extended period of time and has its sights on the core of the world, Gaia, and the two goddesses protecting it. Mother Nature and the Queen of Nature.

To distract the one known as the Pharoah, it managed to find what remained of Abanoub and gave him some of its power to combat Duulaman.

Abanoub worked behind the scenes, slowly rising back to his prime state of power and with the added power of the void entity, he managed to corrupt the roots of Duulaman's kingdom and sow discord.

Unfortunately for Abanoub, it couldn't exactly kill Duulaman, so it instead caught him by surprise and put him into eternal slumber.

The void entity who named itself Akasa, just like the previous one. Sought to use Gaia as a power source, but not just the core, but the two goddesses as well.

And with Duulaman and the Star Child of death out of the way, it was free to do so however it wished, though not to say it wasn't extremely careful when it enacted this plan.

Sam didn't know that Tucker was sent into eternal slumber, nor that Danny was never going to come back as soon as she hoped he would. So, when she went to the council and found that she was the only one there, she knew something was wrong.

Mother Nature was attacked while she was on a different plane, with such a coordinated attack on both her and Gaia by Akasa, Abanoub's army, and a recent addition, Chiwa the undead duchess' pawns. She unfortunately fell and became nothing more than power source.

Sam tried, oh she tried. But in the end, after a drawn out battle between her, Akasa, Abanoub, and Chiwa. She fell as well, with the added power Akasa gained from Gaia and Mother Nature, now with the added source of the Queen of nature. He was basically unstoppable.

That didn't mean all hope was lost, with the last bit of her power, she managed to seal all three of them to specific areas.

Abanoub, the Night less Desert. More specifically Tucker's throne.

Akasa, the realm between the world and the void. The council.

Chiwa, the blood lake of the eternal lady.

Their forces were still at large however, with the ghosts under Chiwa's command wishing to continue the war from eons ago. Abanoub's armies spreading across the world to take over their various kingdoms and be forced under his rule.

All two wished to free their master's, who in turn promised to free Akasa when they were free as well.

The rest of the races didn't take this laying down at all, immediately going to war and managing to hold their ground relatively well.

Both sides were at a standstill, with Abanoub, Chiwa and Akasa sealed they lost a signifcant portion of power.

Whereas with the Star Child gone, the Queen of Nature captured, and the Pharaoh of the Night less Desert sleeping, they couldn't push forward no matter how hard they tried.

So, what did they do?

They came together and summoned people from another world of course!

And who did they summon?

The Justice League.

#dp x dc #sam manson #tucker foley #ghost prince danny #mostly a background thing #Pariah Dark #briefly mentioned but he's there #the Justice League get summoned to help a world currently at war #take the ramblings of a drunk man #(I don't actually drink so hahefhae)#I may be cringe but I am free #Had this in my mind for a split second and it just snowballed from their lol

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angstyhikka · 10 months

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I created some new AU (?) I'm not sure if it even undertale actually haha😅

Meet the Emperor bastards: Enno, Nott and Icar

They've been made by the Empress, their horrific Mother the lead of their undead monster kingdom (im still figuring it out haha)

#emperor bastards #Prince Enno #Prince Icar #prince Nott #oc #character design #worldbuilding #angsty hikka

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mushroomnoodles · 5 months

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the lovers/vampire au hcdump part 2, with a focus on petrigrof (characters drawn in my style)

once again putting under a read more; these are notes ive put down while riding home from work on the bus. here's pt 1 btw.

On the subject of THE HANGED MAN

something simon thinks about often is the sheer stagnance of vampirekind. vampires are a species that stay the same forever- they don't evolve or change; hell, the vampire kingdom is old school, even to simon.

simon is physically weaker than an average vampire- he suspects this is due to the radiation poisoning he suffered from before being turned. it takes him longer to heal and he doesn't have possess vampire strength the others of his kind have.

simon doesnt really mind this- he merely observes this fact. his body stayed the same way it was the morning betty bit him; the same way it was after her bite mutated and changed his body for the last time. plus, simon is a man of habit.

a thousand years of life with betty has made simon more open with her; they talk, like, about how they feel, how their relationship feels.

simon has grown quite philosophical and his field of study has expanded. being undead gives him this subconscious duty to put his eternal life to good use: the library. an ode to scholars and thinkers, adventurers and collectors. an ode to the humanity he left behind.

he always says sorry to the few humans he's ever directly fed from.

simon has only fallen to blood frenzy once.

simon's library is quite frankly, huge. you can't reach the books on half the shelves without flight or telekinesis.

current research focus is on procuring the ice crown. (he would be immune to its effects as a vampire)

simon refuses assistants and servants because they make him feel weird, despite the fact THE LOVERS could absolutely have them in their chambers.

simon loves his side job as a professor btw. he always gets so cheery and dorky when it's that time of the year for him to get his students.. and he loves history!! he definitely goes on old man rants about "his day" every now and then

being pregnant with morrigan made him wonder if perhaps there WAS a cure for vampirism after all. he'd entertained the thought every now and then despite the fact that everything he looked into claimed it couldn't happen. but if his body could still remember how to function like a human's, then it didn't seem so impossible to him.

On the subject of THE WORLD

a great strategist- but she misses traveling the world, researching and hunting for ancient artifacts with simon. this is not her dream.

cooking food was a love language and hobby for her. sux when you and your hubby can't eat food.

loves making morrigan snacks (they're a living vampire and can eat food!)

betty's whole thing is.. improvise. adapt. overcome. she keeps working hard so she can keep winning hard.

her fangs are VERY long. they always jut out of her mouth despite her best efforts, and she has to hide her mouth when incognito.

that makes it kinda hard to kiss simon but she's had a thousand years of practice!

due to the length of her fangs, her feeding bites are always fatal.

she is considered very beautiful. simon agrees

spends a lot of time out and about. she is also the vampire king's current advisor, so she spends a lot of time by his side. it's probably a good thing, and a better thing he trusts her. but she worries. she isn't as ruthless with the subject of conquest as others would like. sure, vampires are powerful, but taking over everything.. would upset the balance of life. they'd exhaust their resources.

she can be pretty scary. betty has learned to project an intimidating persona to keep up her role as battle strategist and advisor. it helps keep others off her back, too.

betty is in part so successful because she is constantly improving upon herself and adapting, she challenges vampirekind to change. it's just so hard for them to do.

betty adapts well to new settings. she finds it.. reasonably easy to settle into new situations, especially when human spying is involved. she just needs a feel for her surroundings.

betty can be ruthless, sure, especially when simon is involved in the danger. but she remembers her roots. she would never cause harm to a human that was not a threat.

she partially trained marceline to fight before the vampire king took over her training.

she's stressed. simon is her escape. she always gets to their chambers, throws her expensive and intricate robes off.. and embraces simon.

dramatically lounges and climbs all over simon in her sleep. subconsciously heat seeking.

worries that if things come to it and they leave the kingdom, simon will be unhappy. he seems to really like it here.

sleeps naked 80% of the time

#vampbetty #vampsimon #vamparents #hc moment #my style <3 #when u want to be the lovers but ur too GOd Damn Busy

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robinette-green · 1 month

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Robin's Fantasy AU DCA Romance Fics

These are fics I’ve started that take place in fantasy settings! Pirates, Castles, fairies, princesses and knights galore!

Black Sea Glass: (tag)

Trying to escape from a group of mercenaries hunting you down to catch you and collect the bounty on your head, you stow away on what you think to be a merchant ship. Unfortunately for you, you end up on a ship flying under the king’s flag. The two captains decide that you can work on the crew while aboard. Over time you find yourself falling in love with the Captains. This is bad news for you. You have so many secrets to hide and the two captains despise lies. If they find out who you really are will they leave you? Would they turn you in?

The Queen and Her Knights:

Banished from her home, MC uses her immense magical abilities to heal a barren land, making it a safe haven for lost souls. The people of these lands name her queen, and all is right with the world until the kingdom that banished the MC decides they want the now flourishing lands for themselves. Lying about why they are going to war, the king claims that the evil witch is keeping the people in these lands as slaves and sends out a massive army. Desperate to find a way to buy herself more time, and in a panic, MC kidnaps the two knight commanders, and shenanigans ensue. Sun and Moon are humans Sun is Solaris Starr And Moon is Lucien Altalune

Jesters and Dragons: (tag)

The main character is the 4th princess of a large kingdom. Her younger brother, the golden child, is gifted two magical construct jesters modeled after the sun and moon on his 14th birthday. While wishing that they had been gifted to her instead, the main character ends up running into the jesters at every turn, turning her into a blushing stuttering mess as they flirt shamelessly with her. Fluffy fluff fluff fluff. With a smidge of angst.

Monster in the Sea:

Sun and Moon are human and go by Solaris and Lucien. The MC is a water dragon. Water dragon reader finds Sun and Moon lost at sea during a storm

Two Hunters and a Bloodsucker:

(tag)

My life is good for what it is. Except that I’m dead. Well, undead. I’ve been undead for about 15 years now, and I haven’t aged a day. Being a vampire hiding among humans can be difficult at times, mainly dealing with sunlight and avoiding mirrors, but I manage. I’ve been living and working in this little town as the town blacksmith for about 7 years now, and I’ve become a full-fledged member of the little community here. I thought I had been doing a good job hiding my presence among the humans, but one day two of the most well-known vampire hunters came into town. If they find out what I am, they will kill me, but both of them have become intent on becoming my friends and maybe more. How can I keep myself from being discovered when two hunters are trying to romance me?

Dreaming of Dancing Clocks:

Waking up in a ballroom filled with elegant dancers, you can't remember how you got there. Something if off about the others here but you can't put your finger on it.

Angel (LateNight DayDreams):

I’ve been avoiding going to the circus for years but when a curtain circus rolls into town, I can’t stop myself from going to see the show… to see him again. A Human Moon romance

Say Don't Go (LateNight DayDreams):

a human Sun and Reader romance A rich MC with her secret lover Solaris.

Some of these won't be finished and some are OLD writing of mine. you have been warned. Please don't let that stop you from reading these and enjoying them <3

#glitter rock #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #dca fandom #sun and moon x reader #fnaf sun and moon #dca fanfic #glitter rock Writing #black sea glass au #two hunters and a bloodsucker #jesters and dragons

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batneko · 3 months

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He has been counting the hours.

[prev]

[next]

#undead kingdom au #opm au #my art #saigenos #saitama x genos #saitama #genos #jewelry

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rayadraws · 9 months

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Half-dragon Genos, from @batneko ’s undead kingdom AU

#raya draws #genos #undead kingdom au

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deconstructthesoup · 13 days

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I saw a D&D AU with the Voices, and I decided that I also wanted to do a D&D AU with the Vessels, so here goes:

*cracks knuckles*

The players are the chapter 2 vessels, who have joined together after they were each mysteriously attacked---and nearly kidnapped---by worshipers of a primordial god only known as The Narrator. Even though they're all vastly different people with vastly different motivations, they have to work together in order to figure out how they've somehow angered a long-forgotten god.

The Tower is a scourge aasimar and an Oath of Conquest paladin, who devoted herself to The Apotheosis, queen of the gods and the embodiment of justice and retribution. She acts as the self-appointed leader of the group, even though a good chunk of the other players are having none of her self-righteousness and narcissism. She doesn't believe that the Narrator actually exists, and considers the quest to just be another heretic-killing spree.

The Adversary is a tiefling Ancestral Guardians barbarian, who grew up in a rough-and-tumble all-barbarian community and is slated to become its next leader. She's just happy to travel around the world bashing heads, and she winds up clashing the most with Tower---mainly due to their very different backgrounds. She genuinely doesn't care who or what the Narrator is, and just wants to kick ass and have a good time.

The Spectre is a ghost and a necromancer wizard, who actually died when she was attacked and has brought herself back in order to track down her killer and to take her revenge. She kind of lost herself in the ivory tower of academia when she was alive, and part of the reason she's sticking with the others is so she can actually form connections before it's truly too late. She's studied several old cults in her time, but the only thing she's found of The Narrator is an old painting of a crow with sharp teeth...

The Nightmare is a dhampir and an Undead warlock, who draws her magic from the dread vampire queen who turned her. She is no stranger to being hunted, for people fear and shun vampires and their spawn, but she knows full well that this time is different. And during the attack, she managed to devour a dream of her would-be captor, getting a little glimpse into the ancient powers of the god that wants her gone... and, well, who can resist the allure of taking down a being as old as time?

The Witch is a tabaxi Circle of Spores druid and an Arcane Trickster rogue, who's been living on her own in the woods after suffering a great betrayal and heartbreak that damaged her trust in anyone. She's only working with the others because she believes she'll get further if she does, and while she initially intends to backstab them once they're no longer useful, she finds herself growing closer to them as their journey continues. All she really wants is to go back to her old life... but her goal may change as her walls begin to come down.

The Prisoner is a human Armorer artificer, who once angered an archfey and was cursed to always be bound in chains. Undeterred, she turned this to her advantage, reforging her chains into armor that she could use as a weapon. She starts traveling with the rest purely due to self-preservation, as every time she resolved to just hide, The Narrator's worshipers found her again---but she's definitely the practical mind that they needed.

The Damsel is a half-elf College of Creation bard and a Beastmaster ranger, and she's a princess whose kingdom was usurped by an evil family member, leaving her on the run. She's very naive about how the world works, mainly due to being sheltered her entire life, and is sure that this situation can be solved with a nice conversation. Thankfully, she has someone to help her...

The Beast is a fey that was cursed to take the form of a barely-sapient panther, and she barely recalls her life in the Feywild. Still, she has a soft spot for the innocent princess she came across in the woods one day, and she will protect her for as long as she can.

The Razor is an elf Soulknife rogue and a College of Swords bard, and she's actually a pretty well-known circus performer. She's absolute chaos personified, and she really doesn't give a shit about The Narrator either way---she's just ready to kick ass, stab people, and hang out with her new best friends. Even if not all of them are super into being friends with the crazy blade lady.

And last but not least, The Stranger is a changeling Divine Soul sorcerer and a Grave Domain cleric, who unknowingly draws their power from the long-forgotten goddess of change, transformation, endings, and new beginnings. They woke up one day with no memory of who they were, and were immediately attacked for reasons they could not explain---so, needless to say, they're pretty traumatized. It also doesn't help that they don't even know what they really look like, so they're constantly changing to reflect what people expect of them... which isn't the most healthy thing, but they're an amnesiac, give them a break.

So... yeah!

#the chapter 3 vessels are either gods or monsters #slay the princess #dnd #stp the tower #stp the adversary #stp the spectre #stp the nightmare #stp the witch #stp the prisoner #stp the damsel #stp the beast #stp the razor #stp the stranger

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yanderes-galore · 19 days

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For Overwatch, can I ask for a scenario or concept of Ramattra with the skin Necromancer? I was thinking about Darling being a knight or princess, either fighting him (knight) or being forced to surrender to him for the kingdom's safety (princess) -🐈

Ohhhh! This sounds like such a fun idea to play around with >:)

Yandere! Necromancer! Ramattra Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Violence, Threats, Courting, Kidnapping, Denial, Murder, Forced marriage, Sacrifices, Resurrection, Forced relationship.

In this AU, Ramattra would be an infamous Necromancer who is capable of summoning the undead.

However, he primarily summons things similar to Zomnics.

The scariest part is he can summon such undead creatures in mass quantities, allowing him to take over kingdoms.

I chose female darling based on the request, but you can be a knight or a princess.

Either role, Ramattra has now targeted the kingdom you reign from.

Be you a princess who aids her father/mother in locking down the kingdom... or a knight who'd lay down her life to protect her kingdom...

Ramattra falls for you all the same... with some plot element differences.

I imagine somehow you end up a captive in either role.

Maybe as a princess Ramattra storms the castle with his undead troops and takes you as captive until your kingdom submits.

Or maybe as a knight your troops are overrun and you're imprisoned.

Either way, Ramattra has you in his grasp.

He chuckles as he leans forward, watching your glare through the cell.

His staff gives off a menacing purple and green glow... the source of his power.

"Foolish human... to think you could oppose me is a pitiful thought. The faster you agree to surrender... the faster we can get this all over with."

Your dynamic begins as simply captor and captive.

There's no feelings between you at first.

You still hate him and he's indifferent to you.

You're a bargaining chip... that is all.

The longer you stay, however, Ramattra toys with the idea of speaking with you more.

The skeletal being starts being more casual with you.

He pulls a chair beside your cell and speaks to you, sometimes for information... sometimes to make sure you have what you need.

"I am not used to dealing with the living... so pardon me if I forget to give you a necessity. Do let me know if you need anything. You're best alive... for now."

Eventually casual talk turns into more private affairs.

Ramattra is a proud individual, especially in this AU.

So at first he doesn't want to admit he's fallen for this princess/knight.

He's a necromancer who only needs the undead.

He's meant to roam the lands and claim kingdoms for his own empire.

All the inhabitants shall be undead slaves for him to control.

But here he is feeling infatuated over the living prisoner in his castle.

What is wrong with him?

You are so vexed towards him... yet he only finds it adorable.

The necromancer tries to ignore such feelings

Unfortunately... they'll eventually cloud his judgment.

Your kingdom will still fall before him... but he'll spare you.

Now the question is... will he court you while you're still alive... or will you be a sacrifice?

Perhaps for some time before that... he'll court you while you're alive.

He offers proposals and plans, his talks even seem nicer.

You want nothing to do with him... but he can be patient.

Eventually there will be a point in his obsession where he brings up marriage.

You're against it... but you may not have a choice.

What comes with marriage is sacrifice...

In the necromancer's case... that's killing you on an altar and resurrecting you.

"To be my bride you must give up your ties to the realm of the living... I know you must be scared, my dear... but I will make it all quick."

You can try to escape, try to run...

Ramattra won't stop searching until he finds you again.

The moment the ritual is done... there is no more escape.

No one can help you, you can't hide...

You're his and he'll make sure everyone knows that.

So... if you don't find a way to defeat the infamous necromancer, you are to be engaged.

The pain will be momentary... Ramattra is careful to strike your heart quickly.

By the time you wake up again... green and purple magic swirls around you before it fizzles away.

Ramattra stares at you with a content grin.

By the time you're dragged back from where you once were... you're now the bride of the necromancer.

You want to cry... to scream... but you feel hollow.

"The ceremony is complete..." Ramattra chuckles.

"From now on... you are my beloved bride..."

Your cold hand is held in his larger boney one.

"No one can take you away from me now... not unless they wish to perish by my hand."

#yandere overwatch #yandere ramattra #yandere necromancer ramattra

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absurdumsid · 3 months

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(this is just an ask for more underangel's content.)

oh dear. ive been stalling writing for this specific au for such a long time,,,,

UnderAngel Lore

or. um. options for it, you get to decide whats canon ? i hope u know i could be lying. or not

i wont be able to make a long lore post (like keepertale's) because. um. although this AU is older than underpills, it's gone (+ going) through SO MANY changes even i cant list them all down

the core plot of underangel is "what if there was never a war between humans and monsters?" its somewhat like ?? a complete opposite of underfell

Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS. One day, the humans threatened the monsters, who did not want to fight, much less a war. Surrendering themselves, the monsters were sealed underground with a magic spell.

this au is focused on sans and his identity as a human turned monster kinda deal, he and papyrus are "undead" and were resurrected by toriel (to see if resurrection is possible) and gaster (to find the limits of healing magic)

they were taken in by gaster after the resurrection thing (since he was the one who proposed the experiment in the first place) but after gaster "dies" they dont really remember ANYTHING about themselves because all their knowledge came from him. they just have this sorta nagging feeling that theyre Not Really Monsters yknow

sans has always been the centre of the au (even back when it was still called underheaven, and there was even a heavenfell,,,,) heres doodles of what i remember them lookin like

but ACTUALLY

this au focuses on chara and their internal conflict as the main reason monsters almost went to war.

see, the story goes somewhat like this:

When the "heart-of-gold trophy child" Chara started "misbehaving" after a game of hide and seek with Asriel, the Monster King's son, humans decided to stop the charade of acceptance. It started with a simple threat toward Asgore and his kingdom. His advisor seemed very... very favourable of war, but he only wanted peace between his people and the humans. So in order to avoid war, he decided to surrender before the humans could so much as scratch his family. Despite the sacrifice separating Asriel and Chara made for peace, Chara decides to run and find a way to go to Mt. Ebott and reunite with their family.

they (and asriel !!) serve as frisk's guide throughout the underground and they get to understand the history of it through exploring, but also chara's insights on certain things (you can tell i like the narrator chara theory) they even have a sit down where they talk about their feelings about being stuck underground

chara is actually in their late thirties now (baby face :/ im envious)

HAHA SIKE !

its ACTUALLY about the mystery of the former royal scientist and the six (dead) fallen children

frisk finds the mysterious grey door in room 268 and is met with a deformed phantom of gaster, he does not speak nor does he move, and when frisk reaches out to try and touch his hand, he flashes a big smile and disappears.

frisk then goes around the underground asking if they know someone who looks like that, and pieces together that it was the royal scientist after speaking to gaster's followers in hotland (this guy rlly met all of them. in one run. damn)

(side note angel!gaster is like. a multiverse therapist now. i call that "au" or his little corner of the multiverse outcode counseling)

ANYWAY

u can choose which of these are canon or like. which of these arent. or maybe NONE of them are canon and this whole post is a lie

oh but underangel always ends in a genocide run

#underangel #underangel lore #undertale au #UGHHHH I DONT WANNA TAG ALL THE CHARACTERS #underangel sans #sans au #underangel chara #chara au #underangel frisk #frisk au #underangel gaster #gaster au #sid art #sid ocs #sid answers #youre not gonna believe this but all my lore posts go through like three copyreading phases to make sure i get ALL the details correct.#the capitalisation. the colour. the everything.#but SOMEHOW i STILL MANAGE TO SCREW UP HGHFGHRHGHR

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blue-macaron · 1 year

Text

royalty au (pt. 1)

characters: UNDEAD, Knights (-Leo), and cameos from future characters

x gn!reader, fluff, ~4.8K words total

a/n: Royalty AU! I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, and I plan on doing some other groups too with this idea, so hope you look forward to that! I didn’t expect for this to be almost 5k words long...it’s now my most longest work currently. Hope you enjoy! (Because of so many characters, the sections for each of them are shortened compared to my other works, just a heads up!)

part 2. (mam + leo + crazy:b)

UNDEAD

As a citizen under the kingdom ruled by the Sakuma family, you say that you’ve had a good life so far. Here and there were bumps along your journey, but it’s not been anything life threatening.

You’ve been in the forest exploring, when all of a sudden you hear rustling in the bushes. Preparing for the worst, you quickly start to retreat away until a pair of bright red eyes locked with yours.

Rei seems both interested and wary in you, asking questions of why you were in the forest. When you hit him back with his question, he simply laughs and waves his hand. You ask for his name, his eyes widening at your question. You don’t know who he is? How...peculiar. He doesn’t seem to be that disturbed, his shoulders relaxing. He refuses to give you his name, infuriating you at the fact that you had given him yours.

The only thing he does is chuckle at your exasperated face, offering his arm out to you. You decide to accept on a whim, linking arms with the mysterious man who seemed a little too excited to spend time with you. But, you shrug it off, by your gut feeling it doesn’t seem like he is gonna do anything bad. He seems like a genuine guy once you start to talk more, him helping you if you stumble on rocks or tree roots beneath your feet.

It’s not until you realize that A. You are standing in front of what seems to be a secret doorway, and B. That the doorway is connect to the royal family’s castle....huh?

You can hear arguing between two men who seem to be coming closer to the secret hallway that your new friend has led you through. You weren’t being apart of a thievery... right?

Koga and Adonis enter your sight, putting a pause to their conversation. The grey haired man seems to scowl at your new friend (you decide to call him R for his red eyes..), his eyes darting to look over your figure. The purple haired man also looks at you, before tilting his head. His piercing eyes unnerve you, looking away from him to focus on the ground.

You can tell they are talking about you, yet you tune out some of the conversation, shifting the balance between your feet. It’s only when you could hear your name being gently whispered by R that you paid attention, snapping your head upwards. The grey haired man introduces himself as Koga, and points to the purple haired man and says Adonis.

Turning to R, you tell him if the duo can tell you their names, then why can’t he? You hear gasping in front of you, and both Koga and Adonis wear surprised faces. R laughs loudly, holding his stomach with how much he was laughing. You swear you could see him wipe a tear (he says that there was something in his eye, but you don’t believe him), and he manages to get out two words that make you wonder how oblivious you have been.

Rei Sakuma.

The next in line for the crown. Oh.

After that whole fiasco of you almost fainting from shock (you didn’t even realize), the three men take you through the seemingly endless hallways and into a fancy, well furnished room. Rei sits you down (it feels strange calling a royal by their name without honorifics) and tells Koga to fetch some refreshments for you. Before you could decline, the doors open, and a man wearing a smirk walks in. He has blonde hair, and he’s placing a tray of snacks on the center table. The man introduces himself as Kaoru, and he brings up your hand to kiss the back of it.

Other then Rei’s description, you learn that Koga and Adonis are guards for Rei, and Kaoru is a old friend of Rei. You wonder why exactly Rei let you in suddenly, considering his position. Voicing this out, Rei chuckles and pats your head. It doesn’t seem like he plans to tell you anytime soon...

Rei Sakuma:

Being honest, even after spending so much time with Rei, it’s hard to figure him out. He’s always talking with you in riddles, racking your brain with trying to see behind the veil he holds up so tightly. You have noticed that he also likes to surprise you, appearing over your shoulder at the most random times.

Sometimes you can’t help but feel nervous, after all, he’s the crown prince. Compared to you, a commoner, you could never be on par with someone like him. You were thinking about this one day, and Rei had noticed your silence. Asking you about your thoughts, you just blurted out what’s been on your mind. Rei pauses, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly. He waves off your concerns, enveloping your hands and telling you that you didn’t need to worry about such trivial matters.

Yet you couldn’t help but see the way he deflated a little when you told him your thoughts, the way he curled into himself. He started to get up, bidding you a farewell. Before he could fully turn away from you, in a surge of confidence, you grabbed his arm to stop him.

....it was quite suffocating, the both of you staring at each other, and in trying to find the right words you manage to cough up an apology to him. He seems surprised, pausing in his attempt to respond. You sit him down once more, before grabbing his shoulders so he couldn’t leave. (It never crossed your mind that Rei was actually a lot longer then he looked, just wearing more comfortable and looser clothing around you. The reason he did it? So you could forget about his title as the crown prince, discarding the fancy clothing he owns.)

Tripping over your words, you tell him that you want to be good friends with him, and that you truly don’t care about the fact that he’s a prince. Did that come out right? Did it make it even worse? Your head is swarming with worries, before Rei holds your face with his hands. Fuhuhu, thank you for trying to comfort me. You never realized how pretty Rei was until now, the way his eyes glimmered with amusement and something else that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Fuhuhu, you seem like you need a break. Please do take care of yourself, many people want to see you doing well. Oh? Am I apart of them? Well, I suppose that is your judgement to make, no?”

Koga Oogami:

He’s a very prickly guy, is what you have concluded. Spending time with him is sort of like trying to tame a wild dog (never in a million years will you ever tell Koga this), and you surely aren’t doing so well. He treats you alright, yet you could see some hesitance in being around you. But, you could understand that. You were some random stranger that Rei happened to find interesting, and brought into the castle.

He seems to be alert every single time you see him, his eyes sometimes flickering over to you before returning to Rei. You’ve asked how he had gotten recruited to be one of Rei’s knights, yet he just shook his head and waved you way. There was a stark difference in the way he treated the rest of the guys and you, being more reserved and less loud.

You have seen him interact with animals, specifically a dog that you learned his name was Leon. Sometimes it feels like it’s too private to watch Koga interact with Leon, the way his eyes soften and his words more gentler.

It’s when he catches you watching him, that you are prepared for him to bark at you to leave. But it never happens. He instead beckons you closer, his hands still petting Leon. You tilt you head, curious on why he’s letting you be so close. Usually there’s a considerable distance between the two of you, Koga discreetly shifting away for when you get a little too close. Koga stays silent, seemingly basking in the quietness of the sun setting, and the gentle wind blowing in his hair.

The both of you sit in silence, no words required between you two. Koga lets out a long sigh, laying down and Leon sitting down beside him. You choose to observe him, the number of scars littered on his arms. He seems to notice your staring and in a low voice, as to not break the tranquility, he quietly explains how he got each scar.

“Ah, this scar. Damn, it’s been so long I’ve almost forgotten ‘bout it. Oi! Who said you could poke it! Tch, just don’t keep pokin’ at it, got it? And don’t touch people’s scars so suddenly! Geez..“

Adonis Otogari:

He’s always so silent that you can’t help but forget about him being in the room, until he’s waving in front of your face and asking if you needed anything. Adonis is always trying to lend a helping hand to you, carrying heavier things or opening the door for you, there’s never a cease to his kindness. Sometimes you can’t help but feel bad that Adonis is taking care of you so much, almost reminiscent of a parent with their child.

You’ve also seen him around the castle a lot, and he’s escorting you from one place to another. One time you were going to ask him a question, but he seemed so focused on figuring out a gadget that you didn’t have the heart to disturb him. Otherwise, you’ve learned that Adonis is a chill guy. He’s not one to shout loudly like Koga, nor try to surprise you like Rei. (If you were being honest, he was the most sane one between all of them...)

You were trying to look for him one day, yet for some reason he seemed to have disappeared completely. Walking around the castle, you were about to call out for him until your foot got stuck on the carpet. Bracing for impact, you waited a couple of seconds before realizing that you did not crash into the floor, and that someone’s arm was slung around your waist.

Looking up, you could see Adonis with his eyebrows furrowed, asking if you were okay. You waved him off, thanking him for helping you. He nodded, before tilting his head and looking down at the small box you held in your hand. Oh right!

You took Adonis’s hand, handing him the gift. He only seemed to get more confused, and you ended up explaining to him that your wanted to get him something for all the things he’s done for you. Adonis slowly opens the box, his eyes widening at the bracelet alternating in purple and yellow. It almost seems like he’s too afraid to touch it, Adonis putting it back into the box and smiling softly. He thanks you with sincerity laced deeply into his voice, bowing in almost a 90 degree angle. (You hurriedly told him that he doesn’t need to bow).

“..Would you like to come with me to a bakery I found? They have good food, so I was wondering if you would like to enjoy some with me.”

Kaoru Hakaze:

You didn’t really see him after your introduction to the castle at first, only seeing him when he was talking with the other guys. He’s like the wind, going in and out of the castle. When he is here however, he likes to stay by your side and ask you questions about your life.

You don’t really have the most fascinating life, it wasn’t until meeting with Rei then your life picked up the pace. Yet he seems to listen every single time with interest, nodding along and humming. Usually you wouldn’t really care that much, but Kaoru just makes you feel like the only person in the room (Sorry to Koga for not responding to him a couple times...).

It always seemed to be a mystery on where Kaoru worked at, and yet fate happened to lean in your corner and amplify his voice to you. You were simply taking a walk around the gardens, looking at the pretty flowers that seemed to stretch on forever in the palace. Hearing soft humming, it carried you over to a more hidden section of the garden that you would have probably missed if not paying close attention.

You were surprised when you saw Kaoru himself tending to the flowers, the scene being right out of a fairytale book. He then proceeded to switch to the next bush, before spotting you watching him. You flinched, spewing out apologies for bothering his work time. He shook his head and laughed, beckoning you closer to take a look at the flower bushes in front of you.

They were so pretty, the roses in front of you blooming and neatly pruned. Kaoru took a look at you, your eyes sparkling and your mouth slightly opened from amazement. His eyes crinkled, glimmering in the sun. You never really took a good look at Kaoru, but now that you are, he’s a very good looking person is what you decide. What you subconsciously also decide is that Kaoru should keep smiling and be happy, it suits him very well.

“Hmm? Ah, I bet you weren't expecting me to have a job like this. It’s a very cool job you say? Well look at you being so suave, about to sweep me off my feet~.”

Knights

It’s been quite a long time since you’ve been whisked away to the castle by Rei, months easily swaying by. For some reason, it never occurred to you that yes, Rei does indeed have a younger brother who also lived in the castle. By a miracle you’ve never seen the younger prince, even when Rei invited you over so much that you had a room to stay in.

Speaking of Rei, he’s been taking quite a long time fetching something? He said it would be quick, so he left you alone in the room, but now that it’s been a while you’re starting to worry. Poking your head out the door and looking back and forth, you still don’t see him.

You decide to head out, hoping that you wouldn’t get lost, and if you did, that Koga or Adonis could help you. Turning corners and you eyes flicking around, it doesn’t seem like Rei’s anywhere near close right now. You do however hear voices from a room, so maybe Rei is in there?

Cracking the door open and popping your head in, you’re ready to call for Rei until you realize that A. Rei is not in here, B. There are total strangers here that are now looking at you, and C. Why does one of them look so familiar yet at the same different? You also realize that you have now interrupted an entire conversation, and you were ready to book it until a voice chuckles beside your ear.

You practically jump, turning towards the voice to find...Rei!? He seems to be amused, grasping his hand over yours on the doorknob and opening the door further.

There are four people in the room, one that suspiciously looks like Rei, a guy with grey hair and striking blue eyes, a guy with red hair, and a woman with blonde hair. All of them are looking at you and Rei, yet the guy who looks like Rei only seems to scowl at Rei. He starts to question why Rei is there, telling him to stop bothering their conversation. His eyes flicker to you, and it’s eerily similar how much his eyes look like Rei’s. The man in question turns to you and introduces the four people in the room to you and vise versa.

Oh. So that’s Ritsu Sakuma.....(You can’t help but feel like anyone who saw your obliviousness would be shell shocked..)

You learn that the guy with the grey hair is named Izumi Sena, a knight for a man named Leo Tsukinaga (You are told that recently he has been busy, and that he’s a very eccentric person). The blonde woman’s name is Arashi Narukami, and that she’s a knight for Ritsu. Finally, the red haired man’s name is Tsukasa Suou, and he also is a crown prince like Rei from a different kingdom.

Your head is racking with questions, but you do introduce yourself to them, bowing deeply. You also come to the conclusion that you need to study the kingdoms a little more deeply....

Ritsu Sakuma:

You can tell that he doesn’t seem to want to interact with you. He seems to avoid you like the plague, barely being able to catch a glimpse of him in the hallways. You do suppose that if you haven’t seen him for so long already, that it probably will stay this way for a while.

Okay maybe you were a bit wrong when you had made that statement. You had decided to take a walk in the garden, admiring the flowers that were so vibrant in color. What you didn’t expect was for Ritsu to be laying down on the grass near the roses, seemingly sleeping away. He looked very peaceful, and you were about to turn to leave until a groggy voice called out your name. You turned, seeing Ritsu look at you directly. He waved his hand for you to come over to him, and before you knew it he had put his head into your lap.

You blinked, and then blinked some more. After all of his reactions towards you, you could’ve expected anything but him deciding that you could be in his personal space. Looking down at his resting face, you noticed that he looked so calm, compared to his glaring towards Rei. (You’ve seen some pretty mean glares in your life, but Ritsu’s was one to remember).

Taking a chance, you slowly put your hand on his head, running your fingers through his soft locks. He didn’t seem to mind this, in fact you swore you saw him lean further into your hand. It was quiet, the breeze fluttering through your clothes and leaving a cool sensation on your skin. You continued to run your hand through his air, his breath evening out to a slow rhythm.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there, and before you realize it the sun is already setting. Gently shaking Ritsu awake, he stirs before sighing quietly. He sits up, rubbing his eyes and leaning on your shoulder. You don’t have the heart to tell him that your legs have now gotten numb, but after spending time with Ritsu, you suppose it isn’t too bad.

“Why was I sleeping in the garden? Well it’s a peaceful place, compared to the palace which is too loud. Plus, not many people bother me here, so I like it.”

Izumi Sena:

You almost had whiplash because of him, reminding you of Koga at first. He gives you side eyes when he thinks you’re not looking, and overall he gives off a cold personality. To even try to talk to him, it would require some courage and shielding your ego. Yet you can’t help but think that he looks a little lonely. When he’s with the rest of his group, he seems so in place, like the final puzzle piece. When you see him alone though, his guard is up high with a piercing gaze on those around him.

You didn’t expect him to walk into the kitchen when you were attempting to grab some food, feeling like a deer in headlights. He merely looks at you, tilting his head as to challenge you to talk to him. You don’t know what was in you during that moment, but a fire in your stomach urged you to make a conversation with him. He looks mildly surprised, as if his gaze already would’ve scared you off. Izumi does regain his footing quickly though, responding to your question of what he was doing.

Turns out Izumi is trying to learn how to cook. Being honest, you didn’t expect for that to be the answer to your question. Maybe you were expecting him to also grab something to eat, or to drink, but when he started to pull out ingredients for a dish, you knew he was 100% serious. (Why would he lie anyways? Your mind supplies.)

Izumi.. is a pretty good cook. You’ve now become his taste tester, the plate sliding over to you for when he finally puts the finishing touches onto the dish. Because of him you were able to eat many different foods from his life, all of them being tasty. Sometimes you wonder why he lets you eat his food though, since he does seem to be eying the plate a lot. (What you don’t know is that he wants to make sure that it looks perfect, for you).

You can now say that you have successfully created a bond over cooking with Izumi. The one time he let you cook though was a disaster... (Arashi, Ritsu, and Tsukasa were also trying to help cook with you two, which ended up in chaos and the rest of your boys in the doorway looking concerned.) Although he can be harsh when needed, Izumi is someone who you can rely on for help, and to be a listening ear for when it gets rough.

“Hmph, you say it’s good, but I can tell that you don’t prefer this dish. How can I tell you ask? You face is scrunching up, like you’ve eaten a lemon. Now tell me your real thoughts, none of those sugar coated words.”

Arashi Narukami:

Although you two had never really interacted in the past, you’ve realized that you are seeing Arashi a lot more now! A lot of the times when you happen to pass by her, she greets you with a bright smile and a wave of her hand. Sometimes you can hear her scold Ritsu in the garden, trying to get him to stop sleeping and actually do work. You can tell that she is a hardworking person, and that while she complains about her job sometimes, she does enjoy being able to talk with the people in the castle.

What you didn’t expect was for her to invite you for a day out, claiming that you should get some fresh air and sunshine in the city. You had waited in front of a shop Arashi told you to meet up at, and you could hear your name being called. Turning your head, you could see Arashi smiling at you, and the change of clothes she had went though. Usually you saw her only wearing armor, but now you could see the way her dress made her eyes pop, Arashi looking like the sun itself. It distracted you for a bit, Arashi having to wave her hand in front of you a couple of times to get you back to reality.

Arashi led you inside the small shop, grasping your hand gently and pulling you along. You could smell a fresh whiff of coffee, surrounding the inside with a pleasant smell. Even though the shop was small, you could tell how well liked it was due to the many customers flickering in and out. She sat you down in a chair, asking you what your preferred drink was. You told her to surprise you, you wanted to know what she liked to drink from this cafe. Arashi nodded, telling you that she would be right back.

After waiting a bit, Arashi came back with two drinks in her hands. She handed you one, sliding down into her seat. You took a sip from the cup, the refreshing taste lingering in your mouth. Arashi asked if you liked it, and you nodded immediately, thanking her for showing you a new place to go. She blushed a bit, grinning that you were able to enjoy a shop she really liked.

You ended up chatting for a while, talking about both of your experiences with the Sakumas and laughing at the chaos that sometimes happened. Looking at Arashi you realized how good she looked with the golden light shining against her from the window. You tucked a stray hair behind her ear, not realizing that Arashi’s blush had gotten even more deeper with that gesture.

“If you would like to, I know some other stores that you might like! Ooh, maybe we could go to that florist shop across the street from the cafe we went to, how about that!”

Tsukasa Suou:

You’ve actually heard of Tsukasa before while growing up. While you couldn’t recognize him from looks, you have heard his name in the air, even though he was from a different kingdom. The reasoning being that both the kingdom you reside in and his kingdom are in good trading relationships, so many items are carried in and out. The only things you have heard about Tsukasa were only good ones, being that he was a responsible young man who many thought that would be able to rule fairly.

You were able to catch him during one of his stays in the Sakuma palace, talking about opening more possible trading ports. He had accidentally ran into you, but to be fair you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. Tsukasa apologized immediately, putting a hand on your shoulder to stabilize you. Curious to know more about Tsukasa, you asked him on what his plans were for the day. He told you that they were able to get far in their discussions, so he was free for the evening. Looking at his hands, he quietly asked you if you wanted to watch his sword training.

Swinging your legs, you watched Tsukasa train from one of the benches in the courtyard. He was practicing on a dummy stand, gracefully moving with his entire body, yet putting much force into his sword. It amazed you how skillful he was with the sword, knowing that you could definitely not be as good as him. When he seemed to be done for now, you applauded at him, cheering for his practice. Tsukasa scratched the back of his head, giving you a thanks for your words.

He asked if you wanted to try wielding a sword, saying that it was fine if you didn’t want to. Accepting his offer, you stood up and walked over. He placed the sword into your hands, adjusting your hands to grip the sword more solidly. You swore you could feel his breath on your neck, freezing up at the close proximity you two were in. His instructions were clear and easy to understand, allowing for you to be able to land a few good hits on the dummy.

After training with Tsukasa for quite some time, he had lent his arm out for you to link with him. The two of you walked through the corridors, leading you to your room. His eyes twinkled as he said his goodbyes, softly asking you if you wanted to continue getting lessons from him.

“Ah! I apologize for making you wait for so long. The meeting went on longer then I expected... Hm? Why are you laughing? Oh, thank you for taking the leaf out of my hair, I didn’t even notice..”

As you prepared to sleep, you thought about the past couple of months and your time with all of the new friends you have made. You have noticed that they sometimes talk about other people that you can’t seem to recognize the names of. Rei sometimes talks about a apprentice he has. Madara Mikejima, was that his name? Rei seems to speak fondly of him, promising you that you will surely like him. But he did warn you of how intense Madara could be for some people...

He thinks that Madara isn’t telling him something, considering the fact that it’s been a bit hard to keep in touch. Perhaps you will meet him one day though?

There was also Kohaku Oukawa, apparently a distant cousin of Tsukasa that he seems to be good friends with. Tsukasa was apparently supposed to bring Kohaku along on the trip the first time you saw him, but he was very busy during that time. Tsukasa also seems to be concerned that Kohaku might be getting into trouble, due to the fact that Kohaku usually tags along to take care of Tsukasa.

You sigh, tucking yourself into bed. It’s no use to think about this right now. As you lie with your eyes closing, you can’t help but feel like the next couple of months will be eventful.

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