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sp0o0kylights · 6 months

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Part Seven/ Part Eight (YOU ARE HERE)/ Part Nine

Ao3

Monsters aren't real.

The thing that's flying towards him is--a hallucination. A figment of Gareth's imagination.

The same way the feeling of time slowing to a crawl is just a trick of the light playing with his anxiety.

He'd be fine.

(It won't hurt.)

Gareth's limbs froze, locking him in place even as the manticore bore down on him.

Thankfully, Steve did not have that problem.

Gareth's shirt was snatched from the back, choking him as Steve yanked him out of the way.

It was just in time--the Manticore blew past seconds later, too-large body so close Gareth could feel the air move past him.

The stench was unimaginable.

A fuckload of noise exploded in Gareth's ears as time kicked back in. He fell hard, behind Steve as the older teen swung his nail bat with his left hand.

Huh. Gareth thought distantly as wood, nail and flesh connected. Steve's ambidextrous.

He never would have guessed.

Doesn't think anyone would.

(Should Gareth survive this, he will immediately tease Steve about it. Right after profusely thanking him for saving his life and having a meltdown about honest to God monsters existing in Hawkins.)

The fucker barked a noise, and the only comparable thing Gareth could relate it to was a seal--if a seal had played with some of the sound effect pedals the music store.

Maybe got run over by a car right after for good measure.

In one breath, the monsters' weird, elongated hand-paws raked lines through the floor.

In the next, a wing smashed high over Eddie's head. The finger-like claws at the crux of it pierced through Stewart's still-stuck door, balancing itself as it turned.

This brought the manticore's gore-filled hole of a mouth so close to Eddie's head Gareth thought it forfeit, and it was only Steve's interference that kept Eddie the Banished from being Eddie the Buried.

"Come on!" Steve bellowed.

He smacked the bat into the floor, as much a challenge as it was a distraction.

Thick saliva dripped to the floor in clumps as the manticore's head, a bulbous thing composed of five petal-like slices of flesh and too many teeth rattled in response.

A car horn trumpeted again--and if it was a warning it was one coming far too late.

The Manticore dropped its chest to the ground as it took the bait. A dark, black tipped scorpion tail rose over the back of the beast, stinger longer than Gareth's arm and wider than a sword.

Faster than Gareth could track, almost faster than Steve could parry, the tail lashed forward, stinger out like a lance.

(But Steve, wonderful, amazing, athletic Steve, caught and parried it with his bat.

Then and there, Gareth swore to never mock a jock, ever again.)

The bat met armored exoskeleton with a sickening crack!, the force of the hit shaking Steve's arms. His right foot slid back, biceps flexing as the stinger pushed against him, straining hard against nail and wood.

Steve grunted, shoes squeaking as he was forced to give ground, the Manticore overpowering him by the sheer strength of its tail.

The entire encounter had barely lasted a few seconds but without interference?

Steve would be thrown aside--and impaled.

Before Gareth could think about how stupid it was, he was on his feet and rushing to help.

He grabbed the fire poker off the ground and thrust it forward, towards the manticore's not-a-face.

Screamed “Go back to hell you piece of shit!” So loud his voice cracked.

It worked.

The beast flinched, tail rocketing back as it rose back up on all four paws, hissing in outrage.

Steve staggered with how fast the tail had moved, but caught himself, bat wavering in the air, and--

There was no reprieve.

No moment to breathe, because as soon as the stinger's gone there's a grotesque, hand-like paw swiping at them both.

Gareth fell back, only to realize he wasn't the target.

Steve was.

The claws flash in the flickering overhead lights and there wasn’t any time.

He's as good as dead and Gareth can't do anything to save him--

But Eddie can.

Sometime during the last few seconds, the older teen had pulled his knife. Jammed it deep into the back of the manticore's front leg, and twisted after the blade had sunk down to the hilt.

This, and the resulting aborted attack, saved Steve's life.

The thing wailed as the struck leg crumpled, sending the fucker’s head on a collision course with the floor.

Stewart's door jumped in its frame as the wing-claws, dug in deep into the wood, caught the manticore. Two flesh-petals scraped the floor, but the move kept it from falling-- at the cost of putting its full weight on the door.

A door already bowed. Hinges pre-fucked with, thanks to Eddie’s early meddling.

It didn't hold.

Hinges screamed as the wood bent, before gravity asserted itself and shattered it. Massive wood splinters shoot out in an explosion of wood, more than one piece embedding itself into the manticore.

Eddie scrambled backwards half turned to protect his head, saved from two large chunks of wood only by the grace of his thick leather jacket.

Several things happened at once.

The car outside honked a third time.

The manticore lunged.

And Eddie tripped.

One petal of teeth tore into him--a graze that left his leg a bloody mess and ripped a scream from his mouth.

Gareth and Steve both shot instinctively: Steve to attack the side of the manticore's head, Gareth to slam the fire poker into a wing.

(One second turned into three.)

The manticore in turn, leapt backwards, head shaking with the hit of Steve's bat--and Gareth had exactly one half-second to realize all they had done up until this moment was piss it off before the wing he'd struck swept out.

It struck him in the gut and Steve in the chest, sending both of them flying.

Gareth's back met the floor a second time expelling all the air from his lungs, vision going dark at the edges as his head hit the floor.

(Three seconds turned to seven.)

This time he physically couldn't move, too stunned as Eddie screamed Steve's name.

Stewart, Gareth realized, was screaming too.

(Seven seconds became eighteen, until Gareth's chest could take in air again, the loud ringing in his ears easing somewhat.)

He kept blinking, thinking the weird streaks of orange light was his vision blurring, until his brain kicked in and informed him that no, those were flames he was seeing.

Gareth pushed himself up on his elbows to find that reinforcements had arrived.

Flames flew in an arc as another on-fire tennis ball struck the Manticores side. The ball bounced, flames trickling down to the floor as the monster beast shrieked.

A third ball had it slamming itself into the wall as Gareth whipped his head to the opposite end of the hallway.

Tiff and Dustin were spraying a can of something onto a number of tennis balls--the ones Gareth knew Tiff kept in her car for tennis.

Lucas loaded one into his slingshot, drawing the rubber bands back and holding so that Jeff’s lighter could turn it into a proper weapon.

He launched it once flames encompassed it fully, and Gareth watched as it flew true.

Landed to the right of the muscular, lion--like chest, flames catching every piece of skin that was touched.

A part of Gareth expected this to only distract the fucker, the same way the pieces of wood sticking out of it’s sides had barely slowed it down--but fire, apparently was its weakness.

The manticore reacted like it was being burned with acid more so than fire, dropping and rolling and ping-pinging between walls as more and more of its wing was overtaken.

Its screams turned into rapid, wracked yelps, until finally it threw itself so hard into a wall that it fell through it.

For a moment a dark hole remained open.

Gray pieces of ash lazily floated out, giving them all a glimpse into a terrifying, dark blue forest, red lightning slashing the sky above before the hole re-sealed itself.

(It closed the way a wound did. All sides creeping in at a speed far too fast for human skin, but was just slow enough to make the wall appear like a living membrane instead of wood and plaster.)

For a long moment, the only thing Gareth could hear was all his friends' harsh panting.

"Did you kill it?" Stewart asked, head peeking around the corner.

Eddie looked to Steve to answer.

Which he did.

"Rule number two, man.” Steve raked a hand through his hair, trying to comb out the sweat that had collected at his temples after he climbed to his feet. “If you can’t see the body, it’s not dead.”

Stewart crept cautiously into the hall, looking as shell shocked as Gareth felt. "Why the hell isn't that rule one?”

"I don't know, the kids made the rules. You can ask them.”

Gareth’s head pulsed unhappily, but Gareth had other concerns as he made his way to his feet.

“How bad is it?” He asked as he made his way over, Eddie still on the ground.

“I’m alright.” Eddie lied, as if they all couldn’t see the sticky patch of blood on his torn jeans.

"Stop talking, start walking!" Dustin yelled at them.

“Eddie’s injured, give us a minute!” Steve yelled back. “God. Go make yourself useful and get my medkit!”

“I’m fine, it’s fine! ” Eddie yelled out right after, voice waspish in his pain.

It convinced absolutely no one, and in fact, caused several people to come down the hallway towards him.

Lucky for him, Steve made it there first.

Dropping to his knees in front of Eddie, he gently moved a ringed hand away from the wound, giving it a critical once over as Gareth and Stewart hovered.

“It’s not bad.” Eddie tried to argue, wincing as he poked around his leg, Steve continually having to bat his hands away. “If we can wrap it I’ll be able to walk out of here.”

“I won’t know until I see more of it.” Tiff said, Jeff and Grant right on her heels to circle Eddie and Steve. “But he might be right for once--there’s not much blood. You’re gonna lose the pants though.”

“Noooo.” Eddie said, in a poor mimic of one of his D&D voices.

“Not to rush you, but we need to get out of here.” Jeff cast an anxious look over at the wall, and Gareth nodded his agreement.

This wasn’t a safe place right now.

(Had likely never been a safe place, if it was birthing out monsters like the manticore.)

Steve looked up at Eddie, holding his gaze.

“Think you can hobble over to the cars if two of us help?”

He got a sharp nod back.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now hop to it.” Tiff said with a clap. Her voice was dry, tone almost sarcastic, but Gareth heard the unease in it

Not that anyone needed any convincing to get the hell out of dodge.

("I'm going to take up running." Eddie told him later, hands shaking from pain as Gareth drove Van Helsing after FrankenCar, Grant's Ford Escort

They had managed to wrap Eddie’s leg up in a quick bandage with the medkit. Gareth hadn’t truly been able to bring himself to look at the wound, but he’d caught a glimpse.

The fang marks stood out on Eddie’s pale skin, and ran in so many rows it looked like he’d shoved half his leg into a shark's mouth.

Tiffany insisted it was more horrific looking than it was actually horrific, and given Eddie had made at least three “am I gonna lose the leg, Doc?” jokes, Gareth believed her.

Still--it was weird, to drive Eddie’s van.

Weirder still to see Steve's Beemer (unnamed on grounds that Hellfire couldn't decide between the Batmobile and the BeemHolder) lead their little procession--though it had been a fight to get Steve to drive the car instead of ride along with Eddie.

"We both know you’re not seriously considering going running.” Gareth told him, voice shaking. “Which is unfortunate, because I'm going to make you anyway."

His fingers tightened hard on the steering wheel.

“I’m going to make everyone go running.”

It was a testament to how scared both of them were that they ended the conversation there.

No joke, no walking back what they'd said.

Running apparently, was back to being a core survival skill and Gareth very much enjoyed staying alive.)

xXx

Gareth hadn’t asked why the Byers house was the chosen place to regroup.

Had kind of assumed that it had been picked because Will’s mother wasn’t home.

Definitely was not expecting an adult to come flying out of the door with the air of a frazzled border collie, herding kids inside before freezing when she caught sight of Eddie.

Or rather: Eddie being carefully pulled out of Van Helsing by Steve and Jeff, cursing and whining the whole way.

“You big baby, you’re not that hurt.” Jeff huffed as Eddie’s squirming almost forced him to let go, resulting in Eddie gripping at Steve’s sweater like a liferaft.

“You can talk when you’re the one that got bit by a monster, Jeffrey.” Eddie snapped back, hopping on his good leg. “I almost died!”

“Steve said it just barely grazed you--”

“Steve was busy trying to keep it off of me to really notice what was happening! Unlike you. What were you doing, Jeff? Honking the fucking car horn?”

“I wasn’t the one honking--”

They continued to bicker as Miss Byers marched forward.

Gareth expected her to yell--and given the way Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sight of her, possibly even deny them entrance.

Shoo them away or send them home.

It wouldn’t be the first time a member of Hellfire had been beaten, only for the adults around them to act like they were the ones causing trouble.

Instead, she earned Gareth’s respect immediately by moving alongside Steve and asking; “Is anyone else injured?”

Barely waited for the shake of Steve’s head before spinning on her heel and heading back inside, yelling all the way.

“Will, fetch me towels. Jonathan--get the medkit! ”

“No worries, Miss Byers. Stevie here already has one.” Eddie said, before his attempts to charm her fell utterly flat when he accidentally jostled his leg and hissed out a curse.

“Steve’s not as good as mine, hun.” Her eyes swept over his leg, calculating. “Is that bite what I think it is?”

“Related.” Steve answered, starting the lengthy process of getting Eddie inside.

“Shit.” She sighed, and for the first time that night Gareth realized she too, wore the same haunted look Steve did.

Which meant she'd believe them.

A part of him, the part who was still a teenager, a kid in his own right, relaxed that an adult knew.

As with most of Hellfire, Gareth didn’t typically trust adults, but his relationship with his own parents was slightly better than most of the others. It led him to such beliefs like that maybe, just maybe, this would be the end of the monsters.

That he’d never face a thing like that outside of D&D, ever again. That whatever events haunted Steve would be handled by the proper authorities.

(That they’d be okay. Everyone would be okay.)

Sirens sounded in the distance, and even as Gareth walked inside the house he knew it wasn’t true.

Whatever all this was?

It wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“Munson?” A rumpled Jonathan Byers said, blinking like an owl hit with sunlight as the Steve-Eddie-Jeff procession went past.

He got a half-assed roguish grin and a waggle of fingers while Steve rolled his eyes over Eddie’s head.

“What happened!?” Jonathan asked, as Joyce bustled past him, relieving Jonathan of the medkit.

“It’s a long story, but we have a code red at the lab.”

Gareth knew he was frazzled, purely by the fact his hands once again went to mess with his hair, right after helping Eddie down into a chair.

“Which they knew apparently.”

‘They’ was accompanied by Steve jerking his thumb towards the living room--where the kids were talking to themselves in a huddle.

Outside, the sirens grew louder.

Jonathan looked to the living room and back, before heaving a sigh so world weary it was almost impressive. “Of course they did.”

“Demodog?” Miss Byers asked as she laid out various medical supplies on her kitchen table, pausing every so often to stare at Eddie’s leg.

“It was a manticore!” One of the kids yelled.

Gareth wasn't surprised to learn some of the brats were listening in.

There was a pause, as Miss Byers stared quizzically at Steve.

“It's like a demodog but much larger?” He told her, making an awkward shape with his hands that explained absolutely nothing. “With wings? Oh--and a scorpion tail.”

“It was terrifying.” Stewart added in a mutter, all of Hellfire awkwardly camped themselves around Eddie.

Which wasn’t good, given the frown on Miss Byers face as she carefully cut away even more of his jeans and their shitty attempt at band-aiding his wound.

It was the face of someone who was about to cause pain in an attempt to heal, and knew it.

For all that he was their front-man and self-proclaimed shepherd of Hellfire, Eddie's pain tolerance was absolute shit.

The guy could take a punch well enough, and the rings on his hands meant business when he hit back--but when adrenaline wasn't flowing?

Eddie broke down faster than his van did.

This whole thing was a bit of a sore spot. Something Eddie had admitted once under extreme duress had come from his father repeatedly telling him a man needed to be tough, and a Munson man even tougher.

(The duress in question was during one particularly animated D&D fight.

Eddie had gotten too excited and slapped an open palm down on top of a pointy figure, embedded it well into his skin.

The incident had derailed the campaign entirely and caused Hellfire as a whole to learn that their fearless leader really hated people watching him cry.)

Needless to say, a room full of children, his friends, his crush, and one of said kids' mothers wasn't exactly an ideal set up for Eddie to lose it.

So Gareth set himself up as a sort of barrier, blocking Eddie's view from the living room (and hopefully, vice versa, before making eyes at his friends to do the same.

Thankfully Jeff at least, caught on.

Communication was given through pointed looks and nudging elbows, but quickly enough, Hellfire managed to make a decently solid barrier between the kids (and Jonathan, who was doing an amazing job of chewing out said children) leaving Steve and Gareth as the sole onlookers.

“Alright, someone start talking.” Miss Byers loudly commanded, as she finally unearthed Eddie’s wounds.

To Eddie, she offered a well-used bottle of Tylenol, muttering quiet apologies before she began cleaning his very gross looking wound.

“Hey--” Gareth himself muttered, half praying he’d magically think of an excuse for Steve to fuck off, only to realize Hellfire’s jock had actually moved into the kitchen.

A line of mismatched mugs and cups was taking form on the counter, and it took a minute of carefully looking anywhere but at Eddie as Miss Byers worked to figure out Steve was making hot chocolate.

Figured that was probably smart, given Grant looked so tense Gareth expected his head to explode at any second.

(The loud arguing from the kids as they tried to explain didn't help any.)

A thought that Jonathan also seemed to have, given he put on a voice that sounded far to fatherly for Gareth's comfort and bellowed;

“Alright, enough!”

--which at least got him the silence he wanted.

“One at a time!” Jonathan parented from the living room. “Will, you start. Dustin you’re up next, then Mike, then El.”

He put his hands on his hips and Gareth nearly laughed aloud, because apparently the children weren't the only ones picking up Steve's mannerisms.

“Start from when you decided to sneak out without telling anybody but Steve.”

“If it makes you feel better we didn't actually tell Steve.” Dustin chirped.

Jonathan stared at him, and judging from his face alone Gareth expected utter hell to erupt from his mouth.

Instead they got a sort of quiet: “That does actually make me feel a bit better, thanks.”

Steve scoffed from the kitchen in response, which thankfully covered Eddie’s pained hiss from where Miss Byers was patting hydrogen peroxide into his bite mark.

Unfortunately for Jonathan, the kids came up with their own order and as always, let Dustin and Mike be their talking pieces.

“Like we told everyone else, it started because Will and El sensed something--” One began, right as red and blue lights splashed across the walls.

The source of the siren--a police truck that, judging bu the loud crunch of tires sliding on gravel and a shriek of breaks--had arrived.

Several of the children (plus Grant) cursed.

“Who called Hopper?!”

“He’s El’s dad idiot, of course someone called him.”

“Come on Max didn’t we talk about calling people names--”

Eddie tensed, as did the majority of the room, as loud, pounding footsteps tore up the front porch.

“I called him.” Miss Byers said as she rose from her crouch, apparently done re-bandaging Eddie.

She weaved her way through the room and was nearly taken out by her own front door when it was flung open to reveal the man himself, who looked like he’d spent the night fist-fighting his way through a bar, in the dark.

“El?!” He bellowed, eyes frantically scanning the room before landing on her.

The relief was so immediate it seemed to make him slump for a second.

Or rather, long enough for him to draw in enough air to get out a proper yell. “Someone better start explaining, right now. Starting with you Michael Wheeler!”

It was only then, as the man himself stepped into the light, that Gareth finally figured out why he looked sort of--off.

Unreal even, like a figure stepping out of a dream and into reality.

Jim Hopper, Chief of Hawkins Police Department, was wearing Scooby Doo pajamas.

The top was a faded orange color, boasting an image of a footstep in the center of a magnifying glass.

The bottoms were green, the head of the famed Great Dane patterned all over.

Combined?

It was Gareth's last straw.

‘You cannot be having a panic attack over the Chief’s pajamas.’ A far away part of Gareth thought hysterically, as his vision kaleidoscoped.

God, was he so fucking lame.

#adopt a jock #pre steddie #steddie #gareth emerson #steven harrington #eddie munson #the hellfire club #the party #and #a manticore #0o0 fanfics #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #hellfire adopts steve #RIP to hellfire you had a good run not knowing about any of this lol #tw small injury mention #tw panic attack mention there at the end #cause Gareth just kinda paused his while fighting for his life lol

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hayatheauthor · 1 month

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How To Write Vampires With An Original Twist

Mythical creatures are an essential part of the fictional scene, but the same creatures have been used so many times that these creatures now often seem redundant and boring in fiction. This is why I've started a new blog series: How To Create Original Mythical Creatures. I'm kicking off this series with vampires!

Join me as we dive into the world of vampires, from their mythical beginnings to their modern-day interpretations, and learn how to write them effectively in your own narratives.

Origins of Vampires

Vampires have a rich and diverse history rooted in ancient folklore and legends. Across various cultures and civilizations, tales of bloodsucking creatures have emerged, each with unique characteristics and behaviors.

One of the earliest known vampire myths comes from ancient Mesopotamia, where stories of blood-drinking demons known as Lilitu or Lamashtu date back to around 3000 BCE. These entities were believed to prey on humans, particularly targeting children and pregnant women.

In ancient Greece, the Lamia was a mythical creature often depicted as a female vampire who lured and devoured children. Similarly, in Roman mythology, the Strix or Strigoi were vampiric entities that fed on blood and flesh.

Moving forward in history, Slavic folklore introduced the concept of the Upyr, a vampire-like creature that rose from the dead to feed on the living. These early depictions of vampires often portrayed them as revenants or undead beings with a thirst for human blood.

Modern-Day Vampires: Where Were They Originated?

The modern concept of vampires, as we commonly know them today, took shape during the European Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Legends of vampires emerged in Eastern Europe, with notable figures like Vlad the Impaler contributing to the folklore. Vlad's reputation for cruelty and his association with impaling enemies on stakes led to the creation of the vampire archetype, inspiring Bram Stoker's iconic character, Count Dracula.

From ancient Mesopotamia to medieval Europe, vampire lore has evolved and adapted, weaving its way into popular culture and literature. Understanding the origins of vampires provides writers with a rich tapestry of mythology to draw upon when crafting their own bloodsucking creatures.

I wanted to go into more detail regarding the Lamashtu and Lamia since they’re not as well known as their Slavic and European counterparts, but unfortunately, that would deviate from the purpose of this blog.

The Evolution Of Vampiric Appearances

Before we proceed with this section, it's crucial to clarify that the mythical creatures and beings discussed in this blog are not direct representations of ancient vampires. Instead, they serve as inspirations for the concept of vampires and share certain attributes with our modern-day depictions, including blood-feeding, pale skin, human-like appearance with some animalistic features, and so on.

Vampiric Creatures In Mythology

In ancient mythology, vampiric entities were not always depicted as the suave, charming figures we see in modern vampire tales. Instead, they often embodied primal fears and monstrous traits.

Lamia: In Greek mythology, Lamia was a terrifying creature depicted as a woman with a serpentine lower body. She was known for her insatiable hunger for children, often depicted as a child-eating monster. Lamia's appearance combined elements of human and serpent, emphasizing her monstrous nature and predatory instincts.

Lamashtu: In Mesopotamian mythology, Lamashtu was a malevolent demon who preyed on pregnant women and newborns. She was depicted with a fearsome appearance, often described as having the head of a lion, the body of a donkey, and bird-like talons. Lamashtu's grotesque features and destructive tendencies reflected ancient beliefs about the dangers of childbirth and infancy.

Lilitu: In Mesopotamian and Jewish folklore, Lilitu or Lilith was often associated with nocturnal demons or spirits. She was depicted as a seductive, winged demoness who preyed on men and newborns. Lilitu's appearance varied across different myths but often included features like wings, long hair, and sometimes talons, emphasizing her otherworldly and dangerous nature.

Strix: In Roman and Greek mythology, the Strix was a bird-like creature or vampiric owl associated with dark omens and death. It was believed to be a shape-shifting creature that could transform into a woman or an owl. The Strix's appearance combined avian and human features, instilling fear and dread in those who encountered it.

Strigoi and Upyr: In Eastern European folklore, Strigoi and Upyr were blood-sucking undead creatures similar to modern-day vampires. Strigoi were believed to be restless spirits or revenants that returned from the dead to torment the living. Upyr, on the other hand, were vampire-like beings with sharp fangs and a penchant for drinking blood. Both creatures were depicted as pale, gaunt, and often with elongated canines, reflecting their predatory and undead nature.

Medieval Depictions: Shift in Appearance

During medieval times, the depiction of blood-sucking mythological creatures underwent a transformation, shifting from monstrous and terrifying to more humanoid and relatable appearances. This change in portrayal can be seen in various aspects of their physical features:

Teeth: Originally depicted with long, sharp fangs or talons for blood-drinking, medieval depictions often featured more subtle fang-like teeth or no visible teeth at all, aligning with the concept of vampires being able to blend in with humans.

Skin: While ancient vampires were often described as monstrous and otherworldly, medieval vampires were portrayed with paler skin to signify their undead nature but without extreme deformities or monstrous features.

Appearance: Medieval vampires were often depicted as more human-like in appearance, with regular clothing and a less monstrous demeanour. This shift allowed for more nuanced storytelling and exploration of themes like temptation, desire, and the struggle between humanity and monstrosity. This is also what birthed the romanticization of vampires.

Mythological Vampire vs Modern-Day Vampire

Mythological vampires, rooted in ancient folklore and mythology, were often depicted as malevolent spirits or creatures with supernatural powers. These creatures varied widely across different cultures, from the Lamia and Lilitu in Mesopotamian mythology to the Strix in Roman and Greek folklore, and the Upyr in Slavic tales.

These ancient vampires were not always the suave, charismatic beings we see in modern media. Instead, they were often portrayed as terrifying and monstrous, with features that reflected their otherworldly nature. For example, the Lamia was described as a demonic woman with the ability to transform into a serpent, while the Lilitu were associated with storm demons and fertility spirits.

In contrast, modern-day vampires, especially those popularized in literature and film, have undergone significant transformation. They are often depicted as sophisticated and alluring, with a penchant for romance and drama. Authors and filmmakers have humanized vampires, giving them complex personalities, tragic backstories, and even moral dilemmas.

While modern vampires still retain some traditional attributes such as a need for blood and sensitivity to sunlight, their portrayal has evolved to include a wide range of characteristics and abilities. This shift has allowed for more diverse and nuanced storytelling, exploring themes of immortality, love, redemption, and the eternal struggle between good and evil.

Which Option Is Better For Your Novel?

When deciding which type of vampire to incorporate into your story, consider the tone and themes you wish to explore. Mythological vampires offer a darker and more primal essence, rooted in ancient fears and superstitions. On the other hand, modern-day vampires provide a canvas for exploring human emotions, relationships, and societal issues through a supernatural lens.

Ultimately, the choice between mythological and modern vampires depends on the narrative direction and atmosphere you want to create. Both types offer unique storytelling opportunities, allowing you to craft captivating tales of mystery, romance, horror, or even philosophical introspection.

Research and Resources

Writing about mythical creatures like vampires requires a solid understanding of folklore, mythology, and literary traditions. Here are some resources and research methods to help you delve into the world of vampires and other mythical beings:

Books and Literature

Start by exploring classic works of literature that feature vampires, such as Bram Stoker's "Dracula," Anne Rice's "The Vampire Chronicles," and Stephenie Meyer's "Twilight" series. These novels not only showcase different interpretations of vampires but also delve into the cultural and historical contexts surrounding these creatures.

Mythology and Folklore

Dive into ancient myths and folklore from various cultures to uncover the origins of vampire legends. Look into Mesopotamian, Greek, Roman, Slavic, and other mythologies to discover different vampire-like entities and their characteristics.

Research Journals and Articles

Academic journals and articles can provide valuable insights into the evolution of vampire folklore, the psychological aspects of vampirism, and the cultural impact of vampire mythology. Explore journals in folklore studies, literary analysis, and cultural anthropology for in-depth information.

Online Resources

Utilize online platforms such as mythology databases, folklore websites, and literary forums to gather information and engage in discussions about vampires. Websites like The Vampire Library, Vampire Empire, and Vampire Rave offer a wealth of resources for vampire enthusiasts and writers.

Historical Research

Delve into historical records, archival documents, and historical accounts related to vampire hysteria, vampire burials, and vampire folklore in different regions. Understanding the historical context can add authenticity to your portrayal of vampires.

Interviews and Expert Opinions

Consider reaching out to folklore experts, historians, and scholars specializing in vampire mythology for interviews or consultations. Their insights and expertise can provide valuable perspectives on vampire lore and storytelling.

Creative Exploration

Don't hesitate to let your imagination roam while exploring vampire mythology. Experiment with creating your own vampire mythology, incorporating unique traits, powers, and origin stories for your vampires.

By combining thorough research with creative exploration, you can develop rich and compelling portrayals of vampires in your writing. Remember to stay open to diverse interpretations and adaptations of vampire folklore, allowing room for innovation and originality in your storytelling.

I hope this blog on How To Write Vampires With An Original Twist will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

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bitethedustfools · 4 months

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TWST story idea (3)

Warning: Death and mild spoiler alert

Ace, Deuce, and Grim witnessed Yuu's death. It was horrible, traumatizing even. The vision of their death haunted them and played repeatedly in their minds, even as the monster in the dwarf mine was defeated.

They saw the way Yuu slowly succumbed to death from a front-row seat. The pickaxe impaled them in the middle of their chest with a sickening noise, slicing it open and splattering everything that wasn't supposed to be outside.

Yuu screamed as blood gushed out of their mouth continuously, "Kill it! Kill it quickly!"

They were terrified to move. Yuu's eyes slowly lost their light, staring at them.

It was too much; they barely remembered how they defeated the monster. However, they knew they truly defeated it because the monster's ink-like blood covered their uniform and stained their skin.

They returned to NRC with complicated feelings and a bloody magestone in hand.

How else were they going to explain that Yuu was dead? That it was their own fault that led to Yuu's death?

They confessed to the headmaster with a trembling voice filled with regret and sorrow, their eyes puffy with tears as they presented a bloody magestone stained with ink.

Only for Yuu to rush in through the door with an exasperated look.

"Hey! Why did you guys leave me behind?"

"H-huh? What?"

"Why are you here!?"

"Aren't you dead???"

An offended look crossed Yuu's face, "Guys, this isn't funny. After what we've gone through? Are you saying you want me dead?"

They got confused. Yuu is alive? But they just witnessed their death not too long ago, yet Yuu is here and fine? Sure, their uniform is tattered and also bloody…

They bring it up to Yuu, and Yuu scoffs, "What? You guys got so scared you started to hallucinate? As you can see, I'm still alive."

They spend the rest of the day thinking that maybe they did hallucinate; otherwise, it wouldn't explain why Yuu is still here.

They witnessed Yuu's death again when Riddle overblot. Trey was too slow to save Yuu, and Yuu got smashed to a pulp by the rose tree that the monster held. There was nothing left that resembled Yuu, just flesh and bones flattened on the ground with hair sticking out.

The trio screamed in horror, remembering the tragedy that may or may not have happened in the mine dwarf. Cater was taken off guard and went green at the grotesque sight, covering his mouth to stop himself from vomiting. Trey gasped, feeling a lump in his throat. He had locked eyes with Yuu just a few seconds ago and failed to do anything to save them.

When Riddle woke up in a daze, everyone around showed complicated expressions. The trio looked like they wanted to throttle Riddle, their faces full of animosity. Cater looked detached and was now pale. He was also standing still and spacing out, which was unlike him. He looked like he was trying to process something.

And Trey, Trey looked at him like he was disappointed and also regretful. His eyes were rather glassy, and his mouth opened and snapped shut repeatedly, gulping in between as though he couldn't decide what to tell him.

"You overblot, and Yuu… is dead."

It wasn't the greatest news to listen to when he wasn't aware of what he had become and had done. Riddle's face immediately morphed to horror before bawling and mumbling in between sobs about how sorry he was and how he didn't mean to.

"Guys, the headmaster is here!" yelled Yuu while panting from running, Crowley, the headmaster, followed behind them, looking worriedly at his surroundings and the victims.

In an instant, everyone's eyes went round with confusion and shock, as if they had seen a ghost. Then there were shouts, hugs, and other things.

Yuu huffed at their exclamations of seeing Yuu dead again. "Again? You guys need to see a doctor. I'm not sure why the others see me dead as well. I'm clearly alive."

"But, but—you were there!"

"Yeah, and then I went to fetch the headmaster! You guys are seeing things; I'm worried about you. You need to rest or something. It could be your imaginations and fear working together."

Despite their attempts to explain, Yuu merely cast a worried and slightly judgmental look toward them.

Yuu didn't believe them at all, and they began to doubt themselves.

This happened to multiple people. Some even said they saw Yuu fall to death, and when they came to check out, Yuu merely sprained their leg or broke a bone or two. Or when Yuu said theh knew how to fake their death when they got squeezed until their lips turned blue and breathed out their last breath as they went limp. The story of how they saw Yuu dead varied in so many ways.

And just like before, when one confronted Yuu about it, Yuu didn't believe them all, dismissing their sick sense of fun in murdering Yuu and told them to see a doctor, not taking their so-called traumatization of getting exposed to Yuu's death into consideration. They're losing their mind at this. They were not even alone in this, so what could be the reason they keep seeing Yuu's 'death'?

Could this be someone else's unique magic, or a disease that slowly affects Twisted Wonderland? Are they really that sick in the head to the point they imagine this?

It must be; there's no explanation to this mystery.

But the twist is this: Yuu got revived almost immediately, and all wounds will be healed, revealing no scars, and therefore, no evidence.

Yuu is fully aware of this, and they don't want to tell someone. So what did Yuu do when people happened to witness their death? They gaslight them all, and goddamn they nailed it. Sure, the others are spiraling into madness, but hey, Yuu's secret is safe.

Extra spice if they got really sick in the head and attempt to murder yuu just to prove something. Yuu either do like they always do or fake being a dead body until they got disposed of and then go far away just in case.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst yuu #writing prompt #yandere twst #depends since i focus on the idea #yuu is not a therapist #Yuu is gonna give more trauma like candies on halloween

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theres-a-body-here · 7 months

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Thanacon's NSFW Imagines: Knights of The Lands Between (Part 1)

Alright scum fuckers. Yall already know ya boi Thanacon got yall with the spicy knight shit. If you like what you see, comment the knight you'd like to see a full fic/drabble for!!

Tree Sentinel:

Imagine being impaled on his cock as he nonchalantly rides his horse around Limgrave. You warm his cock as it stays still inside you

Imagine you begging for him to thrust, but he pays you no mind. Your tiny body clings to his massive frame and you whimper pathetically

Imagine him giving you a bit of reprieve by leading his horse to trot on rocky terrain, every bump and jolt drives his cock in a bit deeper

Imagine him casually riding by some soldiers of Godrick. You try to stifle your moans but he gives you a good thrust, causing your moans to slip out

Imagine him using his massive shield to hide you from their sights. He doesn't mind letting them hear you, but seeing you is just for him to enjoy

Imagine him taking you to a secluded grass field. He hops off his horse with his cock still inside you.

Imagine him laying down on the ground as you ride him. He wants you to be comfortable.

Imagine him finally start to thrust into you

Imagine him making no sound as he thrusts upwards into your heat

Imagine him gripping your hips tightly, guaranteed to bruise in the morning

Imagine his head falling back onto the ground as he increases his speed

Imagine a low growl being your only warning before he cums inside you, painting your insides white

Tanith's Crucible Knight:

Imagine asking Tanith for an alternative reward, an afternoon with her Knight. She accepts since you've been the most exemplary of the Volcano Manor

Imagine him stiffening up when he hears your proposal, and then shiver when he hears Tanith agree

Imagine getting ready and arriving to one of the Manor chambers.

Imagine seeing him on the bed, still in his amor

Imagine him trembling slightly as you approach eagerly

Imagine removing only his codpiece and palming his massive member through his undergarments

Imagine him letting out a low groan as his hand goes up to his faceplate in an attempt to suppress his sounds

Imagine fishing his cock out and stroking it slowly

Imagine his hands fly to his faceplate as he falls back onto the pillows

Imagine him letting out small whimpers as you jerk him off slowly

Imagine him thrust into your hand, a small push for you to go faster

Imagine obliging. He starts to let out laboured breathes with each quick stroke

Imagine him gripping the sheets tightly as he arches his back

Imagine him cumming as he lets out a loud whimper

Imagine him going back to covering his faceplate with his hands, embarrassed that Lady Tanith made him into your reward

Crucible Knight and Misbegotten Warrior:

Imagine being held down by the Knight as the Warrior fucks you roughly. The Misbegotten ruts into you like a mutt in heat

Imagine his cock is bumpy, knotted, and grotesque

Imagine the Knight gently rubbing your wrists as he pins you down, a stark contrast to his partner's treatment

Imagine the misbegotten drooling as he pounds you, his slobber dripping off and falling onto your bare body

Imagine the Misbegotten growling and snarling as it fucks you into the ground, signaling that its close

Imagine the Misbegotten roaring and slamming into you one final time as he cums, his knot locking you two together.

Imagine him pinning your arms down so the knight can pull his cock out

Imagine the knight lightly tapping your lips with his thick cock

Imagine the Knight holding your head still with one hand while using the other to grip the base of his cock as he ruts against your lips

Imagine him leaving trails of precum all over your face as he rubs himself on you

Imagine his grunts and moans as he strokes his cock over your face

Imagine yourself whining and trying to raise your head to get a taste, only for the Knight to raise his cock upwards. He lets out a deep chuckle as he pats your cheek

Imagine him groaning as he cums, painting your face white

#elden ring x tarnished #elden ring headcanons #elden ring x reader #elden ring #fromsoftware #elden ring imagines #crucible knight #tree sentinel #misbegotten #knight kink #masked men #size difference #dubious consent #knights

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ghostlyexpertpeanut · 7 months

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୨୧ , guts x GN!reader.

( first meeting headcanons )

written by ISHA.

tags fluff, shyness, sfw

. . .

you'd met guts in a tavern by the outskirts of midland, drinking a filthy whiskey you had not paid for. there weren't a lot of people so you basically had the place to yourself, minus the bartender shooting you wary looks. it was quiet and you enjoyed it.

and then, an apostle attacks. the large beasts destroys the tavern to a large pile of wood and stone and you're sure there's no way they'd be able to mend it back together. you're still downing your bitter drink when the apostle takes notice of you behind the now wrecked bar. you had taken shelter with the bartender, but by the looks of it he's long gone, impaled by a spear to your right.

you are definitely alone now.

but then a tall man jumps atop of the apostle with a freakishly large sword and slides off its head with one clean swoop. the grotesque head falls and rolls along the floor by your feet, followed by a trail of blood as it's eerie eyes stare up at you.

shocked, you drop your glass with a gasp. too busy worrying about the blood staining your silks, you miss the loud stomps of heavy boots approaching you ahead.

"are you alright?"

you snap your head up at the deep voice before you, gazing up at a bruised yet oddly handsome face. his dark hair is unruly and frames his solemn features rather nicely. the man seems to have lost an eye, if the scar travelling down his eyelid was of any indication. but truthfully, it was kind of sexy. your saviour wears a stoic expression, awaiting your answer impatiently.

"oh of course i am, now that you're here." you wink, not expecting the man to catch on.

but he does, his face flushed red. he rubs the back of his neck and attempts to avoid your longing gaze, though it's futile in the end; you have gorgeous eyes.

"guts," he coughs out suddenly, and when you raise a confused brow at him, he repeats himself regardless of how his heart thumps loudly against his ribs, "the name is guts."

his name is odd, that's for sure. but the way he eyes you up and down like you're destined to be devoured by him, isn't so bad.

#guts #guts x reader #guts berserk #berserk x reader #x reader #guts x you #guts x gn reader #gn reader #berserk

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tatumrileyslover · 11 months

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I’m not dead, so I’m not done

^☆ Synopsis: Even after trying to escape the tragedy of the Woodsboro murders, the ghosts of her past continue to follow her.

^☆ Pairing: ex!Stu Macher x Reader / Sidney Prescott x Reader

^☆ Word Count: 1.6k

^☆ Warnings: mentions of death, tiny bit of angst in regards to the readers relationship to Stu, fluff, cliffhanger ending (sorry), mentions of blood

^☆ Authors Note: This is the first fic I’ve written in a while so hopefully I’m not rusty, anyway feel free to leave requests, the story doesn’t use (y/n) and is in a female pov

1996 - 261 Turner Lane

Her eyes were drawn to the grotesque scene that was playing out before her eyes, both her friends tangled in a harrowing struggle for survival, she stood transfixed by the nightmarish display of desperation and violence.

As they tumbled over the couch, the air erupted with a cacophony of exploding pillows, their fluffy contents bursting forth like a storm of feathers. The room seemed to transform into a battlefield, the innocent pillows transformed into chaotic projectiles, adding an unsettling surrealness to the already intense struggle between Stu and Sidney.

Glancing quickly over her shoulder, Billy was sprawled across the hallways. His body was splayed on the floor, contorting with pain, clutching his side where Sidney had impaled him with an umbrella when she burst from the closet, taunting him with the ghostface costume.

The air crackled with tension as she stood there, a formidable force, challenging him to face the consequences of his wicked actions, she wasn’t going to let him get away with this.

In that moment, the world started to gain traction, the world no longer filled with static and white noise. Scrambling without thought, frantically rushing forward to help Sidney and restrain Stu from hurting her best friend.

Wrapping her arms around Stu, she gripped him in a tight embrace, her arms enveloping him with a firmness that evoked memories of the past, where she would hold him just like that. The days where she would sneak up on him as he stood by his locker, obsessively recounting the horror movie he had watched the night before in excruciating detail, to a content Billy who listened to his incessant rambling with a grin on his face. How he would tug her under his arms to give her a hug and a small peck before continuing as adamantly as before. The two people she trusted most in the world lay before her, grievously wounded and marred by the violence they had unleashed. leaving a trail of destruction in their wake, targeting her friends and even attempting to end her own life. The trust she had once placed in them had been shattered, replaced by an overwhelming sense of fear and disbelief.

Stu was different, he wasn’t the same boy who would walk her home from school everyday to make sure she was “safe from Randy,” the sick grin plastered to his face, eyes wide from adrenaline, blood dripping all down his body, he had undergone a chilling transformation into a disfigured version of the person he once was. His eyes, once filled with warmth and familiarity, now glowed with a sinister light, reflecting the depths of his corrupted soul. The scars of his transformation told a haunting tale of the torment that had consumed him, warping his humanity beyond recognition. It was a jarring sight, a stark reminder that evil had taken hold and twisted his very essence.

In a desperate bid for freedom, Sidney's instincts kicked into overdrive. With a surge of adrenaline, she seized the nearest object within reach—a heavy plant pot—and swung it with all her might, shattering it against his head.

The impact reverberated through the air, a resounding crack that echoed with a mix of surprise and pain. Stunned, he faltered, his grip on her weakening as his senses reeled from the unexpected blow. It was a momentary reprieve, an opportunity for Sidney to break free from his clutches and gather her wits, quickly seizing her arms, that were still clutching at Stu, pulling her to her side, the eerie glow of Halloween illuminated the room, a haunting silence filled the room, broken only by shallow breaths and groans from Stu who painfully attempted to twist his marred body onto his back, gazing up at the two girls who’s eyes were locked in noiseless conversation, as if communicating with telepathy.

With a nod both girls gripped the side of the tv and pushed it onto Stu, the image of the Stus flailing body, burned into her retinas, his hands grasping at the surface to attempt to alleviate his suffering, his groans began to quiet down as Sidney entangled their fingers and dragged her away desperately trying to get them out of the situation, hoping fervently that Dewey would be here any second with backup. While being tugged away, she took a final glance towards Stus body, a glint of light catching her eye. There on his wrist peering slightly over the fallen sleeve of his beige cashmere sweater, now tainted by splotches of red, lay the bracelet she had made him on their first date, the sage string wove through pieces of sea glass they had stumbled upon on the beach.

It was the only part of “her Stu” she had left

1997 - Windsor College

As they strolled back to the campus from their date, her heart swelled with an overwhelming love for Sidney. The connection they shared had blossomed amidst the darkness and trauma they had both experienced. They had become each other's pillars of strength, providing unwavering solace in the face of unimaginable horrors.

The loss of Stu left a profound void in the her heart, a hollow ache that echoed with the weight of what could have been. She had once been deeply devoted to Stu, a bond that had now been shattered by the revelation of his involvement in the horrors that unfolded. She was consumed by a maelstrom of emotions—grief, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal. It was as if the foundation of their past had crumbled, leaving behind a sense of loss that cut deep.

But Sidney, she filled that hole, she had a key lodged into the keyhole of her heart and it might as well have been stuck in there with gorilla glue, Sidney's presence had become a beacon of hope, a reminder that healing was possible even in the wake of unspeakable darkness. She admired her for her resilience, her ability to rise above the trauma that threatened to consume her. In Sidney, she found inspiration and a profound love that transcended the scars —physical and mental— left by the past.

In moments of vulnerability, they had cried together, finding solace in their shared pain. They had held each other in the darkest of nights, lending strength when one faltered, reminding each other that they were survivors, not defined by their past but shaped by their determination to move forward.

With each passing day, their love grew deeper and more profound. They were intertwined in a bond forged by empathy and understanding, knowing that they held the power to heal one another's wounds. She cherished every moment spent with Sidney, witnessing her growth and finding solace in their shared journey.

Together, they had become each other's safe haven, a sanctuary where the weight of the past could be shed and replaced with love, support, and healing. She knew that they were forever changed by Sidney's presence in their life, grateful for the way she had helped them navigate their own trauma and find strength within themselves.

The night air whispered against their skin, carrying with it a promise of new beginnings. As they approached her dormitory, the anticipation in her heart grew. She longed to spend more time with the person who had become her rock, to continue exploring the depths of their bond.

Sidney's fingertips tingled with the desire to hold the her close, to feel their warmth and reassurance envelop her. The vulnerability she had shared with them had fostered a profound sense of trust. In that moment, as they stood outside the dorm, Sidney couldn't help but marvel at the way life had woven their paths together.

“Hey I had a great time tonight Sid, thanks so much, I owe you a meal next time,” she giggled as she leaned in to press her lips to her girlfriends, Sidney sighed against her lips.

“Glad you did, now, you have to work on that assignment, I’m not letting you blame me for you failing your class,” Sidney pressed her pointed finger at her chest, lightly shoving her back into the dorm.

A shocked look hung over her face,

“Sid!”

“Goodnight sweetheart,” Sidney sent her a small wink as she closed the door, a wave of embarrassment flooded her cheeks, staining them red, “ugh that girl, I don’t know what I’m going to do-“

The air seemed charged, almost heavy with anticipation. Their senses heightened, and then, it hit them—a scent that sent a shiver down their spine.

A mix of cologne and sweat lingered in the room, a scent that lingered oh so familiarly on their palette. It brought back memories—both joyful and painful—of something. The fragrance seemed to fill the air, wrapping around them like a phantom presence. Goosebumps erupted across their skin, an involuntary reaction to the uncanny sensation.

The room carried the unmistakable scent of Stu.

She stood frozen, her gaze scanning the room for any signs of Stu's presence. Was it just a trick of the mind, a residue of memories clinging to the air? Or was there something more sinister at play? The scent seemed to hang in the room like an omen, a chilling reminder of the past they thought they had left behind.

With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, she moved closer to the source of the scent. She traced its path, her fingertips trembling, and her mind racing with unanswered questions. How could Stu's scent be here, in their room, after all this time?

In that moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The past collided with the present, and the line between reality and nightmare blurred, reduced to nothing but a hazy fog. As they inhaled once again, the scent of Stu clung to their senses, leaving them with an unsettling realization—perhaps the ghosts of the past were not so easily forgotten, as a familiar shine of sea glass captured her attention.

If you want I could make a part 2 but idk (/ω＼)

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sweetsweetbbyboy · 1 day

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Will was a beacon, a sliver of warmth in the ashen wasteland that Hawkins had become. He was walking towards Mike, that familiar, lopsided grin lighting up his face just like it always had, even amidst the encroaching darkness. The sight was enough to make Mike's chest ache, a painful reminder of everything they were fighting for.

And then it was gone.

One moment Will was there, bathed in the eerie, flickering glow of the Upside Down, the next he was gone. Erased. A monstrous appendage, barbed and dripping with a viscous ichor, had erupted from the ground, spearing Will through the chest. The force of it sent a spray of blood across the shattered pavement, a gruesome mockery of the rain that perpetually plagued Hawkins.

Mike couldn't breathe. Couldn't scream. He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes glued to the horrifying spectacle unfolding before him. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, his senses overloaded with the grotesque tableau of Will's impaled form.

A choked sob tore through him, raw and primal. It was a sound of utter devastation, of a soul ripped asunder. The fight drained out of him, replaced by a wave of nausea so intense he thought he might be sick. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. Not Will. Not his Will.

"I don’t even know why I’m writing this. You’re not here. You’re not ever coming back. It’s stupid, writing a letter to someone who’s… gone. But I don’t know what else to do. Talking to you was always the easiest thing in the world, and now it’s the one thing I can’t do.

It’s been a week since… since Hawkins. Since you… God, Will, I can’t even write it down. It’s just a black hole in my head, a constant replay of that… thing, taking you from me.

I should have told you. I should have told you how much you meant to me. How much you still mean to me. It was always you, Will. From the moment we met, it was always you. I was just too scared to admit it. Too scared of what people would say. Too scared of what you’d say."

Mike Wheeler 1989.

#byler #byler endgame #stranger things #mike wheeler #mike x will #will byers #st5 #byler tumblr #anti mileven #finn wolfhard #byler fanart #byler art #byler fanfic

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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 8 months

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𝔇𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔉𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔰 - 𝔊𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰𝔮𝔲𝔢 ℑ𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

#Dying Fetus #Grotesque Impalement #self titled #Release date:#2000 #EP #Genre:#Brutal Death Metal/Grindcore #Themes:#Occultism #Gore #USA

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jarethgoblinking · 5 days

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Scorching Fire

Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav (no pronouns, no name (yet)).

Summary: You arrive at the Emerald Groves and find yourself confronted by a swarm of enemies. Buried traumatic memories resurface hindering your fighting abilities and your companions find themselves concerned, unsettled and some are even resentful of your apparent weakness.

Trigger Warnings: PTSD, Mention of SA, Anxiety & Panick Attack, Angst, Pyromania, Slow Burn (pun absolutely intended)

Word Count: 3300

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

“ Fuck no…” you whisper to yourself.

You definitely have not caught a break since that whole madness has befallen you. Since the abduction, the mindflayer, the tadpole nudged in your brain. Since that sneaky vampire almost slit your throat and drank you dry. Since that brutal githyanki warrior ordered you to help her out, else she’d gut you like a fish. Since that (obvious) sharran threatened to bash your head in because you dared touch that artifact she was so clearly attached to. Since that weirdo sticking out of a rock nagged you to pull him out of his half-assed portal.

But now, goblins? Fuck them all!

You didn't really want to help these mercenaries, and you frankly could not care less about the tieflings at that exact moment. You weren't feeling as noble as that dashing young man, running sword in hand to the rescue of the oppressed, and of your own band of misfits as it turns out. But you got caught in the crossfire and now found yourself dealing with these monsters.

Truth be told, if it were any other enemy you would not have fret as much. But goblins...

You hear their raspy voices and smell their rotten stench and you immediately feel nausea seize your entire being. One of the warg charges at Laezel. Swinging her great sword, she cleaves into its skull, blood splattering on her face and chest. Shadowheart cast an amour spell on one of the human scouts in an attempt to protect the front line of the battle. From the corner of your eyes you see an archer notching an arrow on the string of his bow before pulling it backward and firing it with a twisted smirk. Whistling in the wind, the arrow flies towards Gale. Your heart skips a beat.

A cluster of images and sounds comes crashing back from the oblivion of your brain to vividly flash before you. Your house, plundered. His body on the floor. Your own voices, wailing.

You get brought back to reality by the sound of an explosion. Three magic missiles, snipes at the arrow, disintegrating it in its track and at the archer sending his carcass rolling grotesquely downhill.

Your relief is short-lived as the chaos soon overwhelms you again. Before you can regain your composure, one of the scouts runs to you, his face grimacing in a sadistic grin. You want to raise your arm, swing your short sword or cast a spell but your whole body freezes.

Another bunch of visions race through your mind. A puddle of blood. Their degenerate laughter. His throat opened, gushing a vermillion river.

Astarion runs past you, shoving you out of the way. He extends his dagger in front of him. You fall to the ground as the scout impales himself on the spawn's blade, gurgling and snickering at the same time.

"Don't just stand there idle! Move, you bloody idiot!!" the pale elf shouts.

You remain immobile, sitting in the dirt. The goblin’s dead body falls on your legs. You jolt away. Your eyes widen, and your core starts to shake. Tears pour down your cheeks as your throat is tangled with panic, no sound leaving your open mouth. You cower even lower, and as your sight starts to cloud with black throbbing dots you can only see blurry shapes, dazzled by the noise of the battle and smell of the creatures. Metal clanks, spells are cast and you can do absolutely nothing. Distraughtness takes over leaving you utterly powerless.

Everything turns to black.

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

As the battle sounds fade, a hand grabs your shoulder. You feel a warm sensation in your head, spreading evenly all through your body, from the top of your temple to your heels.

"Are you, ok? Are you with us?"

You turn to the direction of the voice. On your left side you see a familiar silhouette kneeling next to you. As your vision returns you start to see purple. Your vision sharpens and you can distinguish Gale's face. He waves a finger before your eyes, checking if you can follow it. A little crossed-eyed still, you gradually regain consciousness. You look up to see Shadowheart, a hand on your forehead, casting a spell on you.

"Welcome back." Gale says softly with a comforting smile.

Shadowheart releases her hold on your head. You sit up and look around with wild eyes. There is blood everywhere and dead bodies piled up. There are mostly goblins’ and wargs’. However, next to the camouflaged door to the grove you see the body of a human archer, two arrows lodged in her chest. You feel guilt squeezing your stomach. The iron smell of blood mixes with the rotten scent of the dead bodies surrounding you. It makes you sick and you bite the inside of your cheek not to hurl.

You suddenly become quite aware that your companions are all around you. Some are more worried than others. Some are more irritated than others. You feel embarrassed to be the center of attention either way, especially after that pathetic performance of yours. You’d give everything to be anywhere else.

"Well that was impressive!" Astarion's snarls.

Lae’zel nods silently, a judgemental frown on her brow. You don't even look up at them.

"Fuck you.”

Astarion tuts disapprovingly and turns away, walking with Lae’zel towards the grove’s entrance. These two may be insensitive brutes but you can’t help but feel that they are right. What a fool you made of yourself.

Gale gets up and offers you his hand to help you back on your feet. You take it, avoiding his eyes, ashamed to be seen in such a vulnerable state. Especially by him.

You would have preferred had he reacted like Astarion. But it simply isn’t like him, is it? Come to think of it, he was the only one of this belligerent group that had not tried to kill you upon encounter. Maybe that’s why you had grown quite fond of him. Or was it because he has the same eyes as…

You feel tears creeping up at the edges of your eyelids again. You swallow them and decisively make your way to the grove.

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

You finally enter the grove.

Among the people you meet (some more grateful than others about your party's intervention) you find the courageous warlock that helped you during the battle: Wyll.

This young hero also has a tadpole in his head and therefore he suggests pooling your talents together until you find a solution to the unwelcome guests in your brain. You are quite happy to add a more reasonable spirit to your group. It had been dangerously unbalanced so far; but then again you don’t know Wyll that much yet; maybe he is not as virtuous as he seems.

Despite being a monster hunter Wyll doesn't seem to mind bunking with a vampire, but the reality is that right now you wouldn't mind if he took his oath to the letter and decided to stake the prick…

After investigation, it seems the tiefling refugees that had flocked to the grove for shelter and assistance are no longer welcome by the druids and both parties are unfortunately threatened by a cohort of goblins crawling in an abandoned temple of Selûne further east. The druid's leader, Halsin, has reportedly been captured and is believed to be held there. Apparently he is quite the healer, and could help your tadpole situation. You really don't want to deal with this...

You decide to explore the surrounding area. Delaying the inevitable.

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

It is lucky you do so, though, as you meet Karlach, a fiery and temperamental (but ever so sweet) tiefling. Wyll's target apparently, who is actually not as much of a threat as he thought (to him, you or any innocent anyways). The poor man has in fact been tricked into hunting her by his patron, a devil called Mizora. She seems like quite a bit of a cunt to say the least.

Of course you don't resent Wyll for his situation. You didn’t blame any of your other companions for their respective predicaments, and you are certainly not going to start now. You do wish he had been candid from the start however. It seems to be a problem all your companions have: not stating what their actual deal is. Then again you're not in a position to judge given your own story and all its complications…

Your group has become quite a showcase of freaks when you think about it; an insufferably antagonizing vampire spawn, an extremely hostile Vlaakith devotee, a mysterious worshiper of the lady of the Loss, a horned warlock whose patron stalks and bullies him like it's a passion, and two ticking time bombs, one due to their mechanical heart from hell and the other cursed to consume raw magic in order to prevent detonation.

And you, of course.

Still you like your new clique for the most part.

Even if she has joined the group quite recently, you like Karlach very much. She has a very pure and raw approach to life that you find endearing. You are also fascinated by her condition. The fire in her; it draws you like a moth to a flame (quite literally). You secretly envy her as you wonder how glorious it would feel to bask in flames at all times and to experience the constant brush and incandescence on your skin. Karlach is herself far from delighted with that state of being so you keep your admiration to yourself.

Indeed, you appreciate her a lot and now you can't help but emphasize even more with these poor tieflings at the groves. Men, women, children. Much like Gale a couple of days ago: stuck between a rock and hard place.

Fuck it... you have to help them. That might help yourself in the long run too.

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

Tonight in camp, you reluctantly but firmly decide to head for the goblin hide out the next day and anxiety twists your inside as you think about the horde waiting for you there. You inform your companion of this decision and ask them to think of a plan of action together. Astarion comes at you again with a snarky remark.

"I do hope you intend on fighting back this time."

You could spit in his face but he isn't worth your saliva. However you can't ignore the concerned look of Karlach and the spite in Lae'zel’s eyes.

“Everything alright Soldier? You’re paler than the leech over there.” the tiefling enquires.

“Our dear friend here seems to be terrified of these noxious little fiends.” continues Astarion, his tone as caustic as ever.

“Nothing unreasonable there; these fuckers are down right nasty!” blurts Karlach, scowling in disgust, “Don’t worry, I have your back!”

"Everyone is scared of something," says Shadowheart, also coming to your aid, "As long as you try to overcome it…"

“Yeah, yeah, we know the jist!” interrupts the spawn, “Luckily not all of us need extra support against the slightest foe.”’

The two women exchange an uneasy look. Despite their reassuring words, you can’t escape the feeling that your companions are doubting you. And it seems, their reserves stand amplified by Astarion's mockeries.

"I'm not scared!" you snap.

But you are.

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

As your group gathers for dinner later on, you feel tension and apprehension rising in the air. The atmosphere is heavy with a sense of uncertainty.

You approach the fire. Gale hands you a bowl filled with a hearty soup. It smells delicious but you have a knot like a rock in your stomach. You gently push his wrist away, kindly declining the portion, urging him to keep it for himself.

You go to sit down on a rock, closing the circle of your little group.

"I did not share much about myself over the last few days, I realize” you finally say, "Not that anyone asked, now that I think of it..."

An awkward silence ensues. Some of your companions stop eating, spoon mid air.

"I don't mind really. I much prefer it that way to be honest... But I feel like there are some doubts cast over my abilities to fight and… I feel like I need to address them. Which means telling you some parts of my story I suppose."

Astarion sighs.

"It shan't be long, darling," you reassure him, "but if you're not happy, you can also sod off!"

He rolls his eyes and waves his hand in your direction, like an invitation to proceed.

“I used to live in an old lighthouse, off the coast of Baldur's Gate, together with my husband."

At the mention of your husband Gale frowns slightly. He catches your eyes and looks away promptly, focussing on the content of his bowl.

"A bit recluse but we didn't mind."

You smile softly, as you reminisce this time. You can almost hear the ghost of his laugh. Happiest years of your life.

You mark a small pause, and take a deep breath. Your eyes lock on the bonfire, avoiding your companions’. The flames gently flicker and their glow reassures you. It irradiates with a coaxing warmth that helps tame your anxiety.

"One night a pack of goblins attacked us. We weren't prepared and though we did try to fight them off, there were a dozen of them and just the two of us..."

You twist your fingers nervously. You can feel your mouth dry up and your heartbeat increase.

"They ransacked the place…"

Your voice cracks and trembles as your throat tightens. You have never said this out loud. You breathe with difficulty.

"They... They threatened to kill him… unless I… Complied "

The silence in camp is deafening. Only the crackle of the fire cuts through it, loud and intrusive for the rest, but to you a soothing purr on which you try to keep focusing.

"They… Still killed him… Afterwards..." you almost whisper.

You look up. Karlach and Wyll' s expressions translate to horror and pity. You hate to feel this way. Poor thing. Helpless. Victim. You start to feel a rush of anger wash over you. Your eyes meet Astarion's, expecting judgment, boredom, or maybe even amusement. But he maintains your gaze, with an understanding look. He winces, as if sharing your pain. As odd as it is to you to see him like that, it strangely brings you comfort.

"They settled in the house. Kept me around. The next few days felt like an eternity…”

You try to remember how long all this lasted but cannot recall. Four days? One week? Two? Whatever. At the time, it felt like a never-ending nightmare. You dart a skittish eye towards Gale. He is still as a statue, knuckles white around his spoon, his jaw clenched. You wish you didn't have to tell him that sordid story.

"One evening, they had a bit too much wine... None of them ever noticed the widow's veil I had crushed in their stew."

You raise your hand to your face and extend your index finger, a flame dancing delicately on the tip. You fixate on the smooth oscillation.

"Once the paralysis took hold, I poured oil and fire wine all over the floor…"

You raise your middle finger, another flame, vacillating at the end of it.

‘’The walls…"

Your ring finger, crowned with fire, joins the other two.

"Them..."

Your last finger stands with the rest of your hand, adding to the fire. It is entrancingly appealing to you. Waving on your nails, it cast a warm orange light on the side of your face. You are almost hypnotized.

"Then, I lit up a match."

You close your hand in a fist. For a second the fire grows into a small ball around it before being stifled in your palm.

"I hadn't seen a goblin since then. Been avoiding them for years. Understandable I’m sure you’ll concede?”

Your eyes drift far away, a hint of hatred in them.

“To say it brought some painful memories back would be quite the understatement."

You get up. Your state goes to every single one of your companions.

"Tomorrow we will go to their camp. Rest assured I won't flail. Rest assured: they will burn."

You walk away into the woods, before anyone has a chance to react.

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

When you finally return everyone seems to have retreated to their tent. A timid cricket is rubbing its wing in a nearby bush. You don't know how long you were away. Probably hours. The fire has died out and you feel alone, ashamed, helpless.

As you make your way to your bedroll, you hear footsteps behind you. You turn around. Gale stands there, in his purple velvety ensemble.

"Don't startle! It's only me."

He carefully approaches but keeps a distance.

"I was thinking; if you would like… I could teach you a fireball spell."

He is a bit curled up on himself as though trying to appear smaller. Unthreatening.

"Scorches everything (and everyone) within a 6 meters radius."

You look at him without a word. You are both relieved and vexed to be addressed after such a confession. You're shaking slightly. The wizard stutters hesitantly in response to your silence.

"If you don't have the energy… I… hum… Have a scroll... In my pack?.."

You breathe deeply. In and out. You catch a scent of sandalwood and rosewater. The trembling stops. Your mouth stretches in a faint smile.

"Teach me."

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

A blast of light illuminates the scenery and an explosion resonates. Some of your companions do not appreciate to be awoken like this and you are met with groans of protestation. Still, you smile at the sight of the burning log you used for practice. The gold and red wave licks the bark voraciously, eating the wood in its heat and turning it to blazing ember. While the colors and warmth elate you, the crisp sound is like a calming lullaby. You relish in these feelings of empowerment and serenity, oh so welcome after such an evening.

"Very good!" Gale exclaims, "Do that tomorrow and we will clear that dreadful camp in no time!"

You turn to him, your cheek flushed red with excitement.

"Thank you!"

He smiles but as he looks into your eyes, the joy in his shifts into sadness. His eyes dampen, his eyebrows tilted upwards in concern and worry.

"Listen, I... I'm sorry..."

"For what?" you shrug.

"Everything… And.. For your love lost..."

And just like that, your exaltation fades, making way to sorrow and longing. You look down and feel your eyes tearing up.

Back then, you had fallen head over heels for him and had always thought you could never live without him. In fact, so much was true, as it seemed you had stopped living the day he died. Now that this wound had reopened even deeper (had it even ever closed?), the searing gap his absence had left in your being felt hollower than before. After all these years you still thought of him every single day, even though you tried to forbid yourself to do so. And yet, despite this omnipresent memory of him, you hadn't uttered his name once since the tragedy.

You shake your head.

“Strar...” you murmur to yourself.

The ring of his name causes your heart to ache. A shiver crawls down your spine. You feel Gale’s hand hover over your shoulder, not daring to touch you.

“I imagine he was a great man.” Gale says softly

"He was an exceptional man…" you say with a quiver in your voice.

Still staring at the ground, you start walking away. You stop a second and hesitate to turn around but you simply cannot. You feel Gale's eyes on you.

"You remind me of him sometimes..." You wipe a tear before it has a chance to leave your eye "Good night, Gale."

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

Well, that was my first ever fanfiction and I don't really know what to expect; I want to write a follow up, as I really want a chance to redeem Astarion and continue to explore my Tav's trauma and healing as well as her blooming love story with Gale but don't know if I can or will have time to do it.

I didn't tag Wyll or Lae'zel because they literal do not speak a word in this story but maybe I should? I am super new to this so feel free to tell me how it usually all work.

For now I hope you enjoy!

Picture credits: Ralph Horsley | Fireball Hearthstone card (CS2_029)

#baldursgate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate tav #fanfiction #fanfic #first fanfic #astarion #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #galedekarios #trauma #astarion ancunin #karlach #shadowheart #karlach cliffgate #fantasy character #angst

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 7 months

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hello guess who's here for another request😈😈so can i request a [god] x male god! reader who has a curse similar to Beelzebub curse that they don't know about[like imagine Beelzebub's curse and truma but 100x worse]

alright so like the male reader is the god of peace,creation & balance and he was cursed by some very powerful Being that no god even knows[not even Odin or Zeus knows who cursed him who also didn't know that he was curse in the first place]

his curse was to share the same Body with Atropos or discord[which name you prefer]who is the literal embodiment of chaos,destruction & carnage and could destroy Valhalla and all of the gods if they Wanted too,that "disappeared" centuries ago and so like imagine the two polar opposite having to share the same Body for eternity as no one can even break the curse as it is permanent being fused with his very soul as he also can't kill himself as the curse didn't allowed to kill himself turning him immortal permanently and was a little scared of going any further with there relationship with [god]

before becoming a god the reader would have been an Angel who somehow be came a god but in the process getting cursed and after some good old trauma he got his emotion stolen by Atropos/discord [and btw this is how male reader looks like:

[and what trauma you may ask?

well when he was cursed he fell unconscious falling to earth being founded by humans who took him in their village and took care of him until he woke up over time m!y/n was treated like family in the village [despite still looking like an angel and being a god] and with m!y/n helping the people by helping them grow food and healing their wounds if they do hurt and so while he was in the village he meet a girl[lets call her agatha] who he soon fell in love with…the two of them would sneak out and lay down in the flower field's that surrounded the village hand in hand, sitting under a tree reading and study with each other…still unaware of his curse but one day…

at first it was like a simply and a normal day for him the village gathering food. talking with each other over all having fun but suddenly he felt liquid run down his cheek…he took his hand to his cheek touching it, looking at the Black substance falling from his eyes before he could react he Blacked out.

to him he was in a void he felt chains around his limbs, voice's screaming out for help what felt like thousands of eyes looking at him as he looked behind him seeing a grotesque monster with someone who looked like him smiling at him as feeling of adrenaline and terror surrounded him before he started to regain consciousness again and

the first thing he saw was agatha going towards him reaching out her hand

m!y/n reached his hand to her not knowing what was going on but before they even have time to react large black spike pierced agatha in the right in the stomach and chest as M!y/n watched in horror as his very first lover got impaled/stabbed Deep as the spike disappeared and as agatha started to fall

M!y/n immediately sprinted to her laying her down on the ground & laying her head on his lap

he frantically started to apologized profusely saying he didn't mean it trying his best to heal her wounds starting to shake and sob more as nothing was happening her wound continued to Bleed out

m!y/n:…p-please i don't want to lo-lose you please i di-didn't mean it im sorry im so sorry…please d-don't leave m-me…[he begged and Begged as he continued to try and heal her wounds seeing that the fresh around the wound was starting to decay quickly now turning black even though he wanted to accept that he couldn't heal her he also didn't want to. so he continued and tried to heal her

suddenly agatha grabbed his hand making him stop healing her as she made him look at her

agatha:y-you know i-it's not working r-right?…[she said smiling weakly as m!y/n started sob even more]

agatha:y-you know I've though a-about my future with y-you…[she said as she continued to smile at him weakly…]

agatha:i-i…know that im just a m-mortal and your a god…but i still wanted to m-marry you one day, to be by your s-side hand in hand l-living happily…h-huh…maybe in another life right?…

m!y/n:…in a another life…[he said still sobbing]

agatha:j-just don't blame yourself a-all right?…[suddenly with her last strength agatha pulled m!y/n into a kiss which would be there first and last kiss…after that she Died in m!y/n arms but m!y/n didn't want to accept this so he picked her up bridal style sprinting around village trying to find someone to help but…all was left was carnage and destruction, the village was in flames ash and blood covering it as the Bloody Body's of the people

who took care and treated him like family all mutilated and Dead…all because of him…

and so after this m!y/n had lost his emotions being locked deep inside of him his old fun loving and sunshine smile and nature gone…replaced with a face that was just there…not showing pain or anything it was just a souless and cold look…but after centuries he met [god] who somewhat filled the void in his cold broken & Dead heart who doesn't have a single clue about his past which m!y/n was grateful for…

and so when Ragnarok came male reader decided to fight for humanity [much to (god) dismay]

[During his fight his suddenly felt liquid coming out of his eye…he touched his cheek to see an oh so familiar black substance and in the first time in forever male reader was panicking as well as [god] first time seeing male reader panicking or showing any type of emotion

as male reader was panicking they started to say over and over again in there head "OH PLEASE NOT AGAIN NOT AGAIN NOT AGAIN NOT AGAIN"as male reader was terrified that he might put more blood on his hands or hurt more people he cares about before he Blacked out.

[to the others gods and humans it looked like male reader was surrounded by shadows, and basically every single horrific monster you could think of as well as the aura being so powerful that the gods have to shield themselves because of the power that was radiating from it as a large monster appeared holding male reader in its grotes claws as it closes letting him transform into Atropos/discord.

sort of like this:

but on male reader pov he was in a void with thousands of eyes looking at him and screaming voice as well as arms grabbing his legs pulling him more inside the Void as the same people that he considered family in the past who he Also killed because of Atropos/discord surrounding him in a more nightmares and distorted form as Atropos/discord was behind him… the sense looks like this:

[oh and here's Atropos/discord full Body]

[after his transformation his opponent [who was in the sky] tried to attack him but didn't even get to move an inch before Atropos/discord arm was through his chest[similar to the sense ware Satan controlled Beelzebub Body and killed Lilith]

and in Atropos/discord hand was there heart that was quickly ripped out from there chest as Atropos/discord looked at the heart before too the horror of the gods and humanity. started eating it in front of everyone with a narcissist/sadistic smile and in the process getting his opponent's powers

as Atropos/discord happily watched there opponent fall to the ground and fade away before passing out and falling to the ground himself bringing back the normal Male reader]

[and after finding out about his past [god] finally understood why M!y/n was so scared of going any further with there relationship as m!reader was scared of losing control and accidentally killing [god] like what happened in his past as they didn't want another person that he care deeply to die in his hands again…]

[and so how would [god] react to finding out that There male!s/o is the vessel of the literal and the very embodiment of chaos,destruction & carnage would they be mad at them for keeping it a secret and what will they're reaction to finding out what happened in m!y/n's past and his transmission/that he was Atropos/discord?]

and for the gods i liked to see are:

Hades

Poseidon

Buddha

and of course Beelzebub!💕

[expecially beelzebub i love that emo😍🤞]

[i know i kind of wrote everything out again so you can just do the reactions if you want]

-(Love) couldn’t understand why you always seemed hesitant to go further in your relationship with him, almost like you were scared of something, but you never said what- you always refused to talk about it.

-He could see the pain in your eyes, the fear, and it did concern him, as he did love you- he cared so much about you- and to see you shy away from him…. It made him angry, frustrated and just concerned- he wanted to help, if you would just tell him.

-You could never tell (Love) the truth, of what you housed in your body- he wouldn’t understand, he would think you were a monster if he knew the truth.

-That’s why you always pushed him away, refusing to go further with the relationship and you would run and hide- but he would always come and find you- apologizing, showing you that he really did love you.

-You did love him, you cared about (Love) so much, but you didn’t want to lose him, not like before- not like the only woman you ever loved- Agatha.

-You shook your head, trying to get her out of your head, because whenever you thought about her, you would always see her bright smiling face, her joy, her love for you- then her terror, her broken body bleeding out in your arms, smiling up at you as she took her last breaths, leaving you helpless to do anything about it.

-(Love) loved other things about you- you calm level-headed coolness, never getting frazzled or upset, your kind nature to all, including humans, even though you were a god yourself, your kind heart- because that’s what drew (Love) to you in the first place, and he never failed to tell you that, making you give him soft smiles, grateful for this little light in your life.

-When Ragnarok was announced you were appalled by the other gods, furious that they wanted to take the easy way out when dealing with humans, and (Love) could see that you were angry.

-That’s why you fought for humanity- choosing to fight for their survival as they were worthy fighting for- they deserved to keep living because they never stopped fighting!

-(Love) watched in fear, not wanting to lose you as well, sitting on the edge of his seat for most of the match as you proved that despite your gentle and kind nature- you were a warrior, showing your strength- your skills.

-You felt something wet drip down your face, and you lifted your hand, pulling back to find what anyone could only describe as black blood and instantly you paled, your eyes widening in fear, a tremble in your voice as the black tears soon covered your face, moving down your body, “NO-NO!! RUN AWAY!!”

-Everyone was stunned, hearing you scream, seeing you look so frantic and terrified as (Love) screamed out your name, feeling the rush of power escaping from you, blowing not only your opponent, but everyone in the stadium back.

-You were engulfed in black blood, your screams dying almost instantly before dark laughter filled the air, your angelic façade melting into something demonic- evil, terrifying as the blood seemed to recede almost instantly, revealing a monster, Atropos, a being of chaos, destruction, and carnage.

-Atropos was lost thousands of years ago, many hoped he had been killed- even the demons in Helheim saw him as monstrous, but none could ever begin to imagine that he had been sealed within your body, and he was now free.

-You could see everything, just like before-just like with Agatha. You screamed, beating on the prison you found yourself in, crying heavily, wanting him to stop hurting your opponent.

-A hand slid up your chest, coming to your neck, the grip firm, silencing you as the other went to your eyes, covering them as Atropos whispered in your ear, “Now-now dear little Y/N- it’s rude to not let me out now and then. Be glad I chose now- and not with your little lover~”

-Your heart felt like ice- thinking of (Love) as more tears fell.

-Your opponent leapt into the sky, trying to take out this monster before it hurt anyone, knowing the dangers but froze as Atropos easily took to the skies, his arm morphing into something evil, it was like an arm made of muscles and blood, no skin, pulsating and radiating evil, before plunging it into the chest of your opponent.

-Everyone was stunned, ready to gather arms to take you on- now concerned for their survival, as Atropos was a danger to everyone in Valhalla right now.

-He devoured the heart he pulled from the chest of your now, thankfully, dear opponent, letting his body fall to the ground as everyone watched in horror, seeing the carnage.

-Atropos lowered to the ground, looking at Heimdall who announced him as the winner before Atropos bowed deeply and as the black blood surrounded him, it fell to the ground, leaving your unconscious body there, as you fell face first into the dirt.

-Many called for your immediate execution, not wanting to risk the chance of Atropos running amok, while others, friends and (Love) were quick to rush to your side, willing to kill those who would do you harm.

-Zeus was hesitant on letting you live- now knowing the truth, you were dangerous, but (Love) was adamant that you were much like Beelzebub, cursed with no way of controlling it- it wasn’t fair to blame you for something you couldn’t control!!

-Zeus and Odin allowed you to live, under the stipulation that (Love) was now responsible for you, and if you looked like you were losing control, he was under orders to immediately kill you, no matter what, something (Love) agreed to.

-He couldn’t believe you had something like that inside of you, sitting by your hospital bed, watching you sleep. He bit his lower lip, he wanted to feel angry, but then he could see why you didn’t say anything, why you never told him the truth. You were scared of him abandoning you- and he knew that earlier in the relationship he might have, he might have turned into one of those out in Valhalla calling for your death. He wasn’t going to leave- even now, knowing the risk, he was going to stay by your side. His hand enveloped your own, holding it to his chest, so you could feel his heartbeat, “Wake up soon Y/N.”

-Hades and Buddha

-Seeing that monster that you housed in your body did scare him, but he had his own inner demons (Satan/living up to his brother’s standards). He wasn’t perfect either, despite what he would lead others to believe. In the end- he was just a man, a man who loved you deeply, and he wanted you to wake up. All his previous anger- his questions and fury about why you never told him about this, about going further in your relationship- it all made sense now. He knew he could never leave you alone now- there were so many wanting you dead- to protect themselves and their own loved ones, not caring that you couldn’t control it. He inhaled deeply, kneeling beside you, cupping your face as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “I’ll keep you safe- no matter what.”

-Poseidon and Beelzebub

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror hades #ror buddha #ror poseidon #ror beelzebub

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