#i have not reread any of this yet so ghfjdkgk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ardberts · 18 days

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wip wednesday

it's actually thursday, but i always love these so thank you for the tag, @myreia!! ♥️ tagging: @lilbittymonster @cloudofdarkness @snotsloth @galpalaven @gatheredfates @aethergazing @birues @iona-xiv @gortash @geth-consensus @dogfromfallout @alannah-corvaine @hartsvale @ishgard @fheythfully

He dreamt of home so often, it almost felt more real than waking.

It was dusk again, as it always was. The last remnants of light cast long shadows over the snow blanketing a forgotten village that existed only in his memories. The cobblestone beneath his feet was worn smooth, and the houses that stood on either side were empty and dark, their windows gaping like eyes, and their doors shut tight against the elements.

It was quiet here; there was no howl of the wind, or the crack and pop from a fireplace, or even the soft crunch of snow beneath his boots. All that remained was a vast and yawning silence, cold as it seeped through the cracks of his former life, whispering in his ears like the cries of ghosts.

His feet carried him through the empty streets with a slow and purposeful stride, the trim of his cloak trailing after him like a shadow, his breath misting in a white haze with every exhale. There was a familiar sense of restlessness gnawing at his chest, urging him forward. He was looking for something — someone, perhaps — but, try as he might, he could never recall just what, or whom.

He came to a halt at the foot of the village square, and the cobble beneath his boots gave rise to the ruins of a great cathedral. A soft grunt stirred his throat, more thought than it was sound, as he tilted his head, squinting up at the structure curiously.

The cathedral was all flying buttresses and sturdy stone, a harsh contrast to the village's wooden homesteads, yet the same sense of abandonment hung about it like an old, unwelcome shroud. Its main entrance was marked by large oak doors, flanked on both sides by Ishgardian saints, worshippers of Halone, their weathered faces carved with expressions of reverence. Stained glass windows lined both walls in an arching row above them, while stone gargoyles kept watch from above.

He recognized the building instantly, having walked past it nearly every day of his life, and oftentimes accompanying the granite beasts in their vigil.

What was it doing here, now, miles away from its home in Ishgard proper, on the outskirts of the city-state in a village that no longer existed?

#my fic #wip: bloodborne #a lil vampire au on this thursday morning~#i have not reread any of this yet so ghfjdkgk

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