Genre/Warnings: aquatichybrid!oc, fem!reader, human!reader, monsterfucker, ovipositor, oviposition, sea creature, sea monster, teratophilia, pwp, explicit, p in v sex, dubcon adjacent, female anatomy, creampie, imagine, oneshot
Masterlist
** Here is my first attempt at branching out from fanfic and into some original works. Enjoy.
His massive, webbed hand slams down on the slab of rock beside you. Your mouth hangs open, but no sound escapes, just a choked breath caught in your throat. Your eyes are fixed on the thick, rough skin of his arm, littered with silvery scars that glisten with droplets of salt water. His hulking bicep is larger than your head alone.
Your gaze trails up to his angular face, pointed nose, and razor-sharp teeth. You long to feel those rows of teeth sink into your skin, hundreds of tiny needles tearing into your flesh like silk, ritualistically claiming you, marking you as his alone. His brows contort with focus, his beady dark eyes watching his monstrous shaft disappear and reappear behind the swell of your ass.
You were taking him so well. Which, given his size, was no easy task. Each thrust required a bit more force, stretching you further with each stroke, allowing him to inch his way deeper into your warm cunt.
You’re bent over a large rock in the secluded cove where you’ve spent so many quiet days with Him, wading through the low tide, collecting shells, and swimming under the sun.
Now, your lower half is dipped into the salty sea as he pins you against the jagged stone. The sun is sinking behind the horizon, painting the water dark but not nearly as dark as his lustful gaze following the curve of your spine. One of his hands spans your shoulders, pressing you down, immobilizing you as he takes you from behind. An airy moan finally finds its way out of your lungs. Your pussy tightens impossibly around his girth.
You shove at the edge of the stone slab with your palm, trying to shield the soft flesh of your hips from bruising on it with each of his thrusts. But it’s no use. He pays no mind to the sting of your skin as it scrapes against the rock. His only concern is how beautiful you look taking him, the heat between your thighs is a jarring contrast to the chill of the sea.
It doesn’t take long before your cries echo through the cove, bouncing off the towering stones surrounding you. He drives himself deep. Your walls grip him, coaxing a low, satisfied growl from his throat. An intense orgasm rips through you. You collapse on the rock, trembling and dazed with pleasure, too cock-drunk to resist as he continues to abuse your tight wetness, bouncing you relentlessly on his thick, pulsing length.
The sea laps away your slick coating his length, but he doesn’t slow.
He roars, his grip on you tightening. He buries deep inside you, and an unfamiliar slimy warmth fills you. Stomach swelling, as one by one, eggs are deposited inside you. Your womb stretches to accommodate his brood.
He holds himself there, sealing everything in. You lie beneath him, panting and exhausted. Your belly is round and taut, filled to the brim with his release. His hot breath dances across your bare skin as he nuzzles into your hair, a low, contented rumble vibrating through his chest.
If you weren’t certain about your relationship before, there’s no question now…
You’re his.
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an unedited taste of a fic for my shindeku au cause idk if i'll ever write more but hey maybe i'll be motivated if enough people are interested. breakdown of the au HERE and art for it HERE and HERE
Midoriya Izuku was nothing if not stubborn and determined. As long as he could remember, he wanted nothing more than to be a hero just like All Might. Years passed and even when he was told in no uncertain terms that hero work was nothing more than a dream due to his lack of a quirk, Izuku just worked harder. He took notes, filling volumes of notebooks. He would analyze clips of heroes at work and still imagine himself doing just the same. Even with the brutal bullying from other students, teachers, and his childhood friend, Izuku still wrote U.A. with trembling hands on his paper for future high schools. He was determined, but even those with the strongest will faced adversity and fell upon hard times.
Izuku stood on the roof of a building, trembling in the breeze. His idol. His hero. The one man he looked up to and wanted to be like had told him that he could not be a hero and just left him there.
Saying Izuku was devastated was putting it lightly.
All of the harsh words from earlier today and the years past come flooding back. Izuku's stomach rolls as he peers over the edge of the building. He was stubborn and determined, but we all have low points.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and while the deep pit in his stomach doesn't leave, he steps back from the edge to put his mother's mind at ease. The tears come again as he walks home and later once he's alone in his room.
The weeks and months that follow are harder than ever. U.A. was erased from the page, only a smudge of graphite and a near hole in the paper left. Inko tiptoes around the eggshells and encourages him. The school he'll be going to is one of the best in the country even if it wasn't a hero school. Izuku endures the bullying for the last stretch of middle school though it seems to die down as Izuku gives less and less reactions. He hides things from his mother but nothing is new on that front.
Months turn into a year and things improve somewhat. While people are still rude and the teachers turn blind eyes to some of the residual bullying, Izuku makes friends and quirks become less of a status symbol. They always will be but for once Izuku can dodge the question and most people don't bother pressing. Even with things improving at a new school and the collection of All Might merch in his room has greatly shrunk (either put into storage and sold), Izuku still aches for a placement amongst the heroes and the new hero students that immerge.
By his second year of high school, Izuku is tired of not doing anything. He's tired of being told to be realistic. He's tired of getting pitying looks. He's tired of being told that he can still make an impact even without being a hero. He's tired.
Izuku waits until the apartment goes quiet before he changes. He puts on the hoodie his mother had mad him (it was an 'I'm sorry you didn't go to a hero school but here's your own kind of hero costume' gift), black jeans, knee and elbow pads, gloves, his red shoes, and a mask. Pulling the hood up around his wild green hair, Izuku squeezes himself out his window and tries to be as quiet as possible making it down the fire escape. He'd been lurking in forums about vigilantes and underground heroes. All Might has fallen to the wayside for him but heroes like Eraserhead and vigilantes like the League inspired him. So many of them essentially fought quirkless so he could do it too, right?
That first night was mostly uneventful. He lurked around and ducked behind corners when late night wanderers or college students returning from drinking would pass. Even without doing much but picking up some trash and petting stray cats, Izuku was enthralled. He knew he had to come back out again. For the first time in forever, he felt excited. As such, Izuku continued to sneak out at night. Most nights were just as uneventful as the first, but he began training. Inko was happy to see her son enthusiastic over something and caring for his health. She was more than happy to help him buy workout equipment and gear and make the food from the diet Izuku presented to him. With all of her excitement, she was none the wiser to her son sneaking out at night or the fact that he was diving deeper on the internet to actively find crime to bust.
---
"I never understand how you manage to deal with these night shifts," Tanaka whined. Izuku laughed as Tanaka continued to pout to him.
"I dunno... I guess I've always had a habit of staying up late," he replied with a half shrug, flicking on the turn signal before making their turn. The siren blared up ahead as they headed to the location of the emergency call.
"It's no fair. I have to drink like three cups of coffee at least to have even half the energy you have." One of the aforementioned cups of coffee sat in the thermos between them. Izuku just hummed with an amused look.
"Well, hopefully you've got the energy tonight cause we're about to pull up on the aftermath of a hero fight." Tanaka groaned and got ready as the ambulance slowed it's roll and came to a stop.
Both men hopped out of the ambulance and began assessing the situation. Thankfully, there wasn't much there for them to take care of. The only person who seemed to have sustained much of an injury sat on the curb, decked out in all black and purple. Drying blood was peaking out from under the man's purple hair line and creeping down to his tired eyes.
Mindjack.
"Hello sir, I'm Midoriya Izuku, and I'm here to do a quick medical assessment and patch you up real quick," Izuku said with a slight bow and a chipper voice. He tried to keep his excitement at seeing Mindjack down. He'd followed his class from the start (at first it was curiosity and keeping tabs on Bakugou but soon became it's own thing). He set the heavy first aid kit down on the ground and knelt down to get at eyelevel with Mindjack. The underground hero fully pushed his hood down and hesitated for a moment before lowering his artificial vocal cords. Ah, right, and Izuku needed to keep himself in check as well since he had eyes and the tired pro was attractive.
"Thank you... I just have a few questions, I'll do a cognitive test real quick, and then make sure all your injuries are cared for." Mindjack hummed in acknowledgment and that was enough for Izuku to dive right into his questions.
"Where are you injured at?" Izuku keeps his hands busy putting on gloves and getting out disinfectant and gauze.
"Just a cut on my head... Some bruises." Izuku nods and holds up the supplies.
"Do you mind if I clean up your head wound real quick?" There was a shake of the head, and Izuku got to work.
"Alright. Could you state the year?"
"2XXX"
"And who's the number one hero?" That got a face.
"Endeavor." Izuku hummed and pulled away, wound cleaned and gauze secured.
"Perfect. Now could you follow the light real quick?" He pulled out a pen light from his jacket pocket and clicked it on. He moved it around, watching Mindjack's eyes and checked for pupil dilation after before clicking it off again.
"Awesome. You did great. I can give you an ice pack if you want for the bruising, but otherwise you're all good to go." Izuku put everything away and clicked the first aid kit shut. "And thank you for your work, Mindjack." He flashed the hero a wide grin. That actually got a response out of him, pausing as he went to get to his feet.
"Oh." He gave Izuku a slightly surprised look which was a big change from the tired stare he had been sporting the whole time. He didn't actually ask anything, but Izuku could see he was confused how he knew him.
"I'm, uh, a big hero fan I guess...? I've been following you- andyourclass- since your first year." A crimson blush bloomed across Izuku's cheeks as he realized how it sounded. Mindjack looked him over for a moment before a small smirk graced his lips.
"Huh... Didn't know I had any fans. Well, it was nice meeting you Midoriya." Izuku could feel the heat radiating from his face, and he offered another quick bow.
"It was a pleasure to meet you as well. Stay safe."
Izuku couldn't help but stare after Mindjack as he went to talk to the police. Tanaka had finished up with his work and was waiting at the open back doors of the ambulance. Izuku could just feel his teasing gaze as he approached. He set the large medical kit down with a sigh and gave Tanaka a slightly pleading look.
"Please- just don't say it." Tanaka grew even more smug and lightly hit Izuku's shoulder with a fist.
"You tell him how you have a picture of him in your room." Izuku let out a whine and pushed Tanaka out of the way so that he could close up the back.
"It's not even like that. I have pictures of a lot of heroes and not in a weird creepy way."
"Whatever you saaay," Tanaka said in a sing song voice as they got back in the ambulance.
Needless to say, Izuku sulked on their way back to the hospital and later razzed Tanaka about his exhaustion as his only means of getting back for now.
The girls laughed as they enjoyed listening to the same song for the last few hours. It was so darn catchy, they couldn't resist.
They winced when the song glitched out into nothing but static. While one worked on fixing the computer, the one went to her phone to continue listening to the song.
They both freeze up at the voice, before their bodies slowly relax. Since they couldn't see the owner, was he like them?
This reality
My mentality
They felt the need to follow the voice. To locate the source of the voice. After all, they were both very capable of doing so.
Everything around me transpires
As I fulfill my darkest desire
They both were adventurous. And they love to explore the depths of the web. Could the song be the key to finding the owner? There was only one way to find out.
Little did either of them know, the rabbit hole was an abyss that they wouldn't dare to let them go.
A/N: Since I’m in so deep with no chances of escape I felt like writing something for Cybersix. It’s not shippy or anything. It’s not that great either but whatever. I may write more if I get comfortable with it. Consider it my contribution to this hella great series that deserves so much more than it gets. Ps. Sorry for any grammatical errors or misspellings.
There's a time when the moon
reveals its face through the clouds. I let out a sigh
and want to cry out loud.
Meridiana is quiet this time of night, shops closed and people taking refuge in their cozy homes surrounded by family. Preparations for winding down and children being tucked safely into bed, wandering towards dreamland and uncaring to what the next day’s events will be. Protected in their ignorance.
Humans aren’t aware of what lurks in the shadows, the ever creeping pressure of creatures wandering around in search of their masters desired treasure. But she knows better.
Pulling on the suit always feels so natural, the weight and feel of it against skin. Gloves secured around hands like a protective layer of paint. It’s nice to be herself, but it can be lonely too. Feelings of discontentment and hopelessness are ever present these days. A weight that never seems to lift but gains tons as time carries on.
Heels click against the ledge of the window, cape billowing around in the wind behind. She releases a sigh, eyes catching the moon in its full reflective glory. She wonders if it shares her pain. Wonders if it qestions it’s existance until anxiety and melancholy override any other feeling. No one seems to understand.
Her past - fragmented pieces mangled together to form a semblance of truth - is shadowed by what she knows now as apposed to then. Her present is going steady but in a repetitive loop; Aidan by day, lavishing young minds with the intellect of literary genious and how it impacts lives or just giving them a glimpse into past minds. Then going home and becoming Cybersix, hunting for survival and aiding a few helpless people along the way. As Adrian It’s freeing to a degree; being able to be accepted and fit in amongst society. To draw warmth from friends who surround him. Sadly they do not detect the lie.
But is it really lying? Adrian is as much a part of her as she is him. They are two sides of the same person. And the future...
It lays ahead, uncertain and daughting...
But deep in my heart,
I feel love so alive.
From the depths of my soul,
I know we will survive.
Rooftop to rooftop, an endless sea of buildings outlined by the moons light and contrasted against the inky blackness of the sky. Gliding effortlessly through the air and landing gracefully, like a bird. It’s easy to shake the troubles away when engaging in a chase, lifting oneself to unreadable heights. The fixed idea is moving quickly through the streets unaware of her presence but she needs to catch him soon. Sustenance is a must at this point, she can feel herself running low, it’s draining affect stilting her efforts more and more the longer it takes to reach it. The sting of electricity shooting up her arm catches her off guard and nearly makes her loose balance and tumble off the high purchase of a large building.
Breathe.
Then she moves, agile and smooth, jumping down and landing a sharp heel to the back of its neck and knocking it to the ground. To many it would appear wrong: fighting what are essentially her siblings or kin, killing them for their sustenance. But she needs it to survive, their lifeblood and power source born from that vile human; or is it more accurate to described him as a monster?
This cursed fate is like chains binding her down, but it’s her life.
And she wants to find what it means to be alive, not just a functioning existance. Cybersix, one of the many creations of Dr. Von Richter, goes in to finish off the fixed idea, snuffing out its spark of life as quickly as letting out a breath. It disintegrates, a pile of clothes and steam left in its wake along with a tube of glowing liquid.
I'm the one they would break
In their greed and their pride.
Feeling restored after drinking it down, Cybersix bleeds into the shadows in order to retreat back home without any more confrontation. The sharp ache inside has died away and left her feeling better physically. Yet, mentally she’s waging war with herself, a never ending array of internal conflicts that don’t rest.
Raising her hand up she looks at it intently: Five fingers.. slender, soft, but capable of lifting inhuman amounts of weight.
She moves it to rest against her chest, feeling a steady thrum beating against her palm. A heartbeat.. So like the rest of them but also no where close. She isn’t one of them and yet she feels, she hurts, she survives, and she cries.
Looking back out the window she sees the moon again, and wonders if she will ever know the answer..
** Do we want a part 2?? Inspired by an adult game demo I found on Steam, lol. Enjoy.
He hadn't expected a simple rescue mission to end up like this...
When the old man came barreling into the tavern, speaking incredulously about a group of goblins dragging you away, most didn't bat an eye.
His beloved daughter. Still in her prime. As beautiful as a winter sunrise was gone. Many patrons shrugged him off. Laughed at his cries.
The orc thought the man to be an old fool. No human in their right mind would've gotten in the faces of beasts, pleading for help. And offering every bit of silver to their name for your return? The old man's desperation was clear but nobody was willing to listen.
The orc sat alone. Hunched over the crooked wooden table in the far corner, where the light barely reached. He watched silently as the old man made his rounds. Pleading and flashing his lifes savings for everyone to see.
The orc scoffed at the man's incredibly pathetic behavior. He had seen enough.
He stood and let the heavy weight of his fist fall to the table. The impact sent the amber liquid from his tankard sloshing over the side and drooling down his knuckles. His bellowing voice cut the old man short.
"If ya know what's good for you, simmer down. And put away the coin."
Even with his slouch, he was easily three times the man's size.
The old man's hands tremored as he fumbled with the pouch at his belt. The silver rounds clinking against one another as he tied it back up tight.
"Have a seat."
The orc says settling back into the creaky wooden bench. The old man slid in across from him cowering down his shoulders.
"You're a damned fool, flaunting all that 'round here."
The old man stumbles over his words
"Please. My daughter. They've taken her. I’ll do anything. Just help me."
The orc slides his tankard across the table.
"Have a drink. Settle your nerves."
He eyes the old man's fidgety hands before flickering his gaze back up to his face.
The grey hair receding over the peak of his head, and the freckled skin neighboring his eyes, were telling of his age. If he had to guess, by the sun damage and dirty fingernails, the man was likely a farmer.
"Who's taken her?"
The orc asks curiously. Attempting to get the first coherent answer from the man since he first set foot in here.
"Goblins!"
The man says with a hushed voice of surprise. As if it would be hard for the orc to believe such a creature could exist. Perhaps it was more strange for a human.
"Where have they taken her? Do you know?"
The old man shakes his head.
"I couldn't say. I followed as far as I could but they're quick!"
“What do you expect anyone here to do with no lead?!”
He scoffed. The man looked defeated.
“Please. I just want to bring her home.”
The orc leans back thoughtfully. Despite how pitiful this was, the man was offering money. And the orc had nothing better to do. It could actually be quite fun knocking a few goblin heads together.
"All right. Imay have an idea."
The old man looked on hopefully. The grateful expression on his face now a replacement for his previous panic.
"I- I can pay. Anything you want take it all!"
As the old man pulled at the sack knotted to his hip the orc held up his hand.
His hand alone was large enough to grip the man's entire skull, and likely crush it with not much effort.
"Keep your silver. We'll talk payment when she's back on your doorstep."
…That really had been his intention going into it...
Help the man. Get a decent payout.
A simple job.
But when he'd tracked the goblins back to their nest, unsurprisingly, the cave was lined wall to wall with wooden cages and boards. Each one was wrapped with ropes to hold the young women they'd captured in vulnerable positions. open and ready to be bred.
He'd kept in his mind your description. The old man had done his best to give him every detail.
As he made his way through the row of cages, he'd thought it might be impossible to make you out of the group. But as soon as his eyes landed on your curved backside, your hair tousled and cheeks pink and puffy from crying, he knew in his gut you were the one he was sent for.
Blood flowed straight to his groin as he took in the view.
You were tied at the wrists to a wooden board. The wood was compacted into the dirt wall with steel nails. You were nude from head to toe. The back of your thighs glistened with a slick substance.
He could only imagine the sounds you'd made when the working goblins stopped at your cage. Pumping you full of their seed in hopes of filling you, round and taught, with their offspring. Furthering their invasive populations. He wanted nothing more than to be the one to coax those sounds from you.
The mere thought of another pair of hands touching you had his eyebrows knitting together furiously. Especially such small nimble fingers.
None of these greedy little men could ever satisfy you as much as he could.
The orc glances down at the large steel padlock holding the wooden bars of your cell closed. Imprisoning you here beneath the earth.
It really is unfair… Such a beautiful thing like you locked away. Diminished to nothing more than cattle. You didn't deserve this. He could give you what you deserved.
The orc thought hard for a plan.
He knew how to get you out of here. His pure, brute, strength alone was the only weapon he'd need to get past the workers and out of the nest. That was the easy part.
It was what hed’ have to tell your father after he got you safely to his own secluded home. The excuse as to why his lovely daughter wasn't back in her own bed, on her father’s farm as he'd promised.
He could hardly keep it together at the thought.
You didn't belong here with these Golbins. A loveless breeder used for a quick get off to mother their brood. It was a waste of your potential.
Instead, you would do tremendously with him. Living the rest of your days as a happy housewife. Mothering with his own kin. Your gentle hands working to cook him dinner, and tend to the little ones. Happy and glowing round with the next.
The way you would fill the space in his bed so nicely. The rest of his life hearing all your pretty sounds and gazing into those beautiful eyes.
His hands itched to squeeze at the softness of your hips, but he holds back. He will. Very soon.
All he had to do was get the chains off first...
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** Here is my first attempt at branching out from fanfic and into some original works. Enjoy.
He knew you were hungry. Starved more like it. He could see the dark circles under your eyes since you’d appeared. The rest of the pack didn’t seem to mind your presence. Since the day you stepped foot in their territory the rest turned a blind eye. But he refused to accept you as one of them. You were weak, useless, and you weren't about to show up here and get free handouts.
As he entered the dining room, where he’d set himself a place at the table, he caught you once again with your greedy little paws reached out for his steak. He growled to give away his presence. you straightened up stepping away from the steaming pile of potatoes and vegetables accompanied on white porcelain by a thick juicy steak.
His scowl was illuminated by the glow of surrounding candlelight. you and your filthy rags had no place in his home.
“Away.”
He commanded, his glare doesn't leave you as he brushed past and sat at the table. He seemed to ignore you as he lay a napkin over his lap and smoothed down the front of his shirt.
“I’ve had about enough of your thievery.”
His long claw pointed down beside his feet.
“Sit.”
You don’t hesitate to drop to your knees, hopeful that this would involve him sharing his meal, but oh boy were you wrong.
“If you are so desperate,”
He swipes two fingers across the steak greasing them up in its savory juices.
“Then I’ll give you something to feed on.”
His smirk is sadistic as he sticks out his hand to you, his pointer and middle finger pointed out in your direction.
when you just stare in confusion and disbelief he raises an eyebrow.
“What? Is my offer not good enough? Do you reject my generosity?”
The anger building in his voice had you shaking your head.
“Go on then.”
His disgruntled tone was a warning. Clearly this wasn’t a choice. You leaned forward sat on your knees the marble floor cold under you. Your lips wrapped tentatively around his fingers careful to avoid the sharp nails at the tips.
he smirked down at you.
“That’s it.”
your eyes shut in relief as the flavors of the steak hit your tongue. Garlic, pepper, rosemary all mixed into a buttery concoction. You pulled his palm forward taking each slender digit further into your warm mouth. Your tongue pushed between them.
He seemed to enjoy your desperation and willingness to follow his commands. Desire stirred deep within him as drool dripped from his knuckles. You scoot forward hovering the toe of his boot. His ears twitched and he could smell the heat radiating beneath your clothes.
The grip around his utensil grew tighter and suddenly he jerked his hand away from you. Your eyes snapped open and he turned to face forward.
"Get in the chair.”
He grumbled nodding his head to the seat beside him. He cleared his throat to hide his desires and sawed at the slab of steak with his knife, placing half of it in front of you.
Maybe, with proper training, keeping you around could be a good thing.
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The Beauty of the Beast - Messmer x F!Reader - Elden Ring Fic - Chapter 3
TasteOfTheDivine // Masterlist
Ao3:archiveofourown.org/works/57094387/chapters/145285753
Fic Rating: Explicit🌶️🌶️ (Chapter: Teen)
Category: F/M
Fandom: Elden Ring // Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erd Tree
Relationships: Messmer x F!Reader // Messmer the Impaler x F!Reader
Warnings: None
Words: 3,905
MASTERLIST // <- Chapter 2 // Chapter 4 ->
Updated on 06-06-2025
A few hours pass, the moon still high in the sky but the morning dew and frost start to coat the grass and leaves outside. The sun is not even over the horizon; the morning twilight breaks in a new day.
You listen out for any movement, but the castle remains silent.
You stroll down the corridor slowly, tiptoeing over the once plush carpet. You look down and see Messmer’s footprints that have charred the fibres - long strides leading away from the door. You sigh but make sure to make no sound. Wandering back to the main hallway, you hear the chandelier still twinkling above your head. You inspect it and hold your breath.
The artwork seemed so delicate that the slightest gust of wind would cause it to crash to the floor below. You hug the stone railing overlooking the foyer and down the stairs. Looking up, you see the oak front door calling you. You consider making a run for it, but you know it's a fate worse than death, maybe. Despite that timid moment the two of you shared - the minuscule moment of compassion and tenderness from him, Messmer still scares you and you're frightened to cross him. You shake your head.
Instead, you explore the downstairs, you try a few doors out of curiosity to find them locked. Down another hallway, your gaze is caught by a series of colourful large stained-glass windows. Inspecting each one, you take note of a young man with long golden flowing hair and a warm smile. A woman with similar red hair but your arm and leg are covered in gilded armour. A young boy in a white robe, glowing with a golden aura.
You tilt your head as you look at each portrait carefully, you feel you notice a familial connection between them all - similar traits of hair and faces.
“Are these the gods I’ve read about?” you ask yourself.
You have read some passages and heard people talking when on your travels - the goddess Marika, your Golden Order - but your main knowledge was of The Academy of Raya Lucaria, the main reason you left your homestead.
You knew of Rennala, Queen of the Full Moon and Radagon, your Prince Consort and their children. But not of these other gods - they don’t look like what you’ve read about. They didn’t look like the descriptions of Rennala’s children. You frown and shrug your shoulders and continue your exploration.
At the end of the hallway, you stumble across a winding stone staircase that leads downwards. Already being on the lowest floor - you part your lips as you realise that this must be the basement. You recall Messmer’s scolding of your question the night before.
Now, all you can think about is why it would be off limits. You don’t want to, but again you find your feet walking to the nearby turret with stairs going down into the dark. You pick up a lone candelabra sitting close by, as if it were placed there on purpose. You hadn’t seen another around at all this morning.
Shaking your head, you venture down the cold stone stairs. The smell of stale dust invades your nose, the damp smell of old stone surrounding you.
Finally, you feel a soft carpet under your feet. You let out a small breath of air in relief; you made it in one piece. The small light in your hand offered no help, but you moved on.
You are greeted by another long dark hallway; no windows aid to guide your way. You carefully tread over the carpet - the fibres dampening your footsteps.
At the end of the hallway, you are met with a large wooden door, this time engraved and intricately carved with symbols you do not recognise and what looks like the Shadow Tree that lingers over the land but different. You’d heard stories of a distant land and their own tree.
‘An Elder Tree? No, Erd Tree.’ you correct yourself.
The engraved tree was lush with leaves, but below, the roots were carved to meld with skeletons. A tremor runs over your spine at the macabre imagery. Around the edge, a woven design reminds you of Messmer’s snake companions and how they intertwine with both themselves and Messmer. You feel your brows knit together as you ponder the connection and why this area is forbidden.
You gently lay your hand on the trunk of the carved tree and easily push the doors. You fall forward, stumbling but catching yourself - you didn’t expect the doors to open or even open easily. Regaining yourself, you look inside the dark room - the small light in your hand illuminating the cold and echoey room. Inside, you carefully step forward but stop in your tracks with fear as you are met with a large carved stone statue of a woman, holding a tiny babe swaddled in cloth in your arms - slightly hidden behind a pair of dusty curtains.
Looking around, you see a long bronze rope - you pull it causing the velvet curtains to gently open, revealing the statue in more light. You gasp as you notice the babe in the arms also has tiny snakes.
‘That must be Messmer,' you ponder to yourself
You tilt your head and wonder if this was his mother. ‘Queen Marika?’ your brain suddenly remembers her name, you’ve been missing from the lands for centuries, barely remembered.
The back of your mind itches, as if someone were trying to invade your thoughts.
"O, mother", it whispers. You become lightheaded. But somewhere inside you, you feel the urge to kneel before the statue, you feel a warmth in your chest as you bow your head and open out your arms.
Not more than a second later, you feel yourself flying backwards and land hard on your back on the floor, wind being knocked out of you. Above you, Messmer stands, veins glowing red under his skin, heat pooling off him into the thick air.
"I warned thee never to come down here!" he snarls at you. His chest heaves heavily, nostrils flaring as he pulls in the stifling air. He turns away from you, grabbing the curtains and yanks them back in front of the statue.
You regain your breath; your hand resting on your chest.
"I didn't mean any harm, I felt like,” you pause for a moment, making sure to get your words out correctly. “Like I was meant to come down here." you scramble backwards on your hands once again. His comrades slither around you, lightly hissing and baring their pink throats.
"Please, stop!" you beg; you cover your face with your hands.
"LEAVETH!" He drops to his knees, flames start to grow around him, and the snakes on his back turn and hiss at you again. Messmer looks up at you, face angered and glowing red.
“BEGONE!" He cries again. “GET OOUUUUTTT!”
Messmer pants and begins to breathe uncontrollably. He curls into a ball on the floor, head in his hands. He rakes his long fingers and sharp nails on his scalp, calming himself down. He feels the smooth scales of his snake rub on his arms. He shivers and lets out a sob.
You scramble to your feet and run up the stairs in the darkness; however, the glow from Messmer’s fury is strong enough to light the way slightly. You trip on a few of the stone steps, gasping and grabbing, your fingers and palms grow red from cuts and scrapes.
Despite being out of breath, you run down the hall, pass the vivid stained-glass windows and out the large front door. A strong blast of snow and ice blurs your vision, and you didn't realise it started to storm. You blow your ring-whistle, and you Torrent Steed appears, neighing and bucking at your panic. You try to calm the animal as you leap onto its bare back and snap at the reins.
Torrent sets off quickly as you ride into the snowstorm, your finger already turning to ice, but you push through. Your heart is pounding and your eyes leak tears.
Torrent rides into the nearby forest that lead you here, but the pathway was obscured by snow. The poor steed runs frantically around, trying not to fall from any unseen dangers. You hear a distant howl that makes you gasp, and bile rises in your throat. You snap the reins again encouraging Torrent to move faster. You look around yourself trying to eye the wolves, but your view is blurred from the blinding snow and harsh winds.
Torrent suddenly stops in its tracks as a pack of wolves surround you both. Growling and snarling, maws dripping with saliva. You let out a scream, the sound echoing between the dark trees. You try to guide Torrent away, but you're enclosed. One nearby wolf snaps at Torrent's leg but misses. Pulling on the reins, you find a break in the circling pack and Torrent rides off, however the pack continues to chase you. Trees whip around you, branches scratch at you both and tug at your clothing.
Torrent vaults over a large snow-covered log but lands horribly, causing you to fall from the steed to the cold hard ground, rolling in the snow. Torrent, scared for his life, vanishes back into the ring, leaving you. You’re left disoriented, but the growling sounds get louder, and you snap your head up from the snow.
The wolves surround you. Gasping hard at the size of the wolves now up close. Tears stream down your cheeks. A tug at your neck throttles you as you’re dragged backwards by a wolf, tugging at your cloak. You feel your life already flashing before your eyes.
Trying to stand, your legs shaking and you try to run but it's no use, the snow was too thick, and you were too slow and weak. You crouch into the snow and cover your head, accepting defeat.
Before you could exhale what you thought would be your last breath, you hear the roaring of flames and the warmth behind you. A cry echoes as you turn around to see red-hot fires fly through the trees and land near the wolves. They whelp and cower; a few run away. You dare to look up and see two snakes crossing in front of you - protecting you.
One of the snakes snapped at the wolves that were gaining in. He hisses. From behind you, another fireball flies overhead - charring a nearby tree. You turn on yourself and look behind to see Messmer, palms outwards as a flame shoots from his hands. Your eyes widen so large they could fall from their sockets; you gasp so sharply it hurts your chest and throat. For a moment, you forgot about the attacking wolves.
One of the snake’s flies around you, knocking a wolf off its paws and smacking into a tree. You hear the wolf wail in pain. Another scorching deep red flame flies past your head, the heat burning your cheeks. You turn back to face the pack, screaming.
Suddenly, Messmer stands in front of you, kneeling and waves his arm backwards to shield you.
The wolves growl and bark as one bravely lunges at you and swipes with its claws, instead Messmer lifts his arm to shield you and the wolf's sharp claws catch the ashen skin, whose blood drips into the snow below.
“RUN!” he roars at you. The snakes turn and hiss at you, but as if telling you to run as well.
You furiously nod and scramble to your feet, which is much easier with the snow melted away. A few more dark crimson spheres of fire blaze amongst the trees, the smell of smoke and charcoal invades your nose.
A few meters away, you hide behind a thick dark tree, the bark rough and warm. You watch as the last few wolves yelp and cower and finally run away.
You turn to look at your saviour, your eyes meet Messmer's, who cups his torn arm, blood dripping through his fingers onto the snow. He pants heavily and finally collapses to the ground. The snakes around him also flop lifeless into the melting snow.
After a moment, he still hasn’t moved. So, carefully, you tread back over to him.
A gasp catches in your throat as you notice his shawl had been ripped off his shoulders during the battle - revealing the two snakes protruding from his back and shoulder. You press your hand to your mouth in shock. You thought they’d just been loyal pets that never left his side. But now you understand, they are a part of him, like the babe in the statue.
Moments pass by as you battle on whether you should help him or not. Now was your chance to leave. But instead, you lean over him and hesitantly brush back his damp hair from his face. He looks soft when so peaceful.
Sighing, knowing you cannot abandon your saviour.
‘Why did he save me?’ you ask yourself.
Pushing away those thoughts for now, you look around yourself in a panic of how you could save him now. He was huge, you couldn’t carry him. Your torrent steed wouldn’t be able to carry his weight either. Sweat from panic and the still-burning trees drip down your neck.
Shifting onto your knees, you close your eyes and hold out your hands and attempt to place a healing spell on him. However not even a tiny speck of mana flowed through you right now. You were tired and undertrained.
You swear under your breath, hissing out in frustration. Leaning back, you look up into the white sky above you. Placing your hands on your lap you feel something in your pocket. Gasping, you reach inside and pull out a simple wooden box and carefully undo the clasp - which was difficult with your trembling fingers. Cracking open the lid - inside lay a small Memory of Grace, the only one you have.
Your mother gave it to you as a quicker way to return home, should you need, or want to. Tears line your eyes at the thought of your mother.
You wanted to keep it in case you wanted to return home, however, you had no way of getting the pair of your back.
Taking in a deep breath, you gently pick out the crystal and roll it into your palm. You look at Messmer’s soft features, the blood-stained red snow around his arm and the two snakes lying in melted snow and ash. Reaching out your hand, you hesitate for a moment but rest your palm on the back of Messmer's head.
Pressing your lips together, you squeeze the golden crystal in your hand hard. A bright white light glows from between your fingers and both become engulfed by a swirl of sparkles and golden light. You close your eyes tight and press your face close to Messmer's to also shield him from the blinding light.
You feel the warmth of the light. Your stomach flips as they’re transported from the cold and snow.
Opening your eyes, you find yourself back in his charred chambers. You feel your stomach flip being so close to him, you notice for a moment how red his lashes are, a few freckles that litter his cheekbones, your stomach flips at his beauty. You could feel his gentle breath on your cheek. In return, you felt your own cheeks flush.
You carefully move away from him; you tenderly inspect the wound on his arm that is still bleeding. Wincing at the damage, you spring into action. Carefully, you stand on your still shaking legs and leave to find clean water and a cloth.
──── ꒷ ────
Messmer opens his eyes and jerks up his head, shocked to find himself back in his chambers. He thought for a moment that the encounter outside was just a dream, till his muscles and the wound of his arm told him otherwise. One of his companions nudges his cheek and flicks out their tongue.
"Are you okay?" Fídi speaks in his mind. He ignores the snake, turning his head away in shame.
He tries to rise to his feet, but his muscles deny him. Slowly he rolls upwards and leans against the bed, wincing at every move he makes. He eyes the hearth and lights a fresh fire, sparks flying from his fingertips to the wood. Dropping his head between his shoulders, he absorbs the heat, and he can feel his companions slither over to the warmth. His ears pick up as he hears you scurrying back into the room, hot water, and cloth in hand.
Both snakes turn to look at the door, they nod at you and drop their heads, curling up together by the fire to rest. Messmer's eyes fixated on the fire.
Carefully you tiptoe over to him and kneel by his side, gently placing the bowl of water down. You reach out to the pair of snakes first, as a gesture of kindness. You hesitate, hand flexing before you pet one.
"Fídi and Óphis?” you ask so softly that Messmer barely hears you.
He continues to stare into the hearth. You sigh. Carefully and slowly, you reach over to the intertwined snakes and stroke the creatures. Their scales are smooth and silky.
You move your hand from Óphis to Fídi who vibrates under your touch. You smile so timidly, the corners of your lips barely moving - but your eyes soften. You see Messmer out of the corner of your eye shiver also, shoulders tensing upwards.
You raise an eyebrow, curious if he can feel the touch of the snakes also.
“Greek, right?” you ask, trying to break the tension. Messmer nods as he cradles his bleeding arm. You dip the cloth into the water and gingerly go to clean his wound.
"This might sting a little," you mutter, just enough for him to hear. Your throat is sore from the screaming and the bitter chilly air. Leaning over you attempts to press the wet cloth to his wound.
Instead, he pulls away, rumbling in his chest.
Flicking your eyes up to his, you frown and shuffle forward and try again. He moves once more, wiggling around. You let out a huff of frustration.
"Hold still!" you snap at him, voice a little louder than even you anticipated.
He turns to you, looking a little shocked by your stern tone of voice. He tilts his head up, looking down his strong nose at you and lets out a puff of air. Tentatively, you lean over and press the hot cloth to his wound.
He lets out a yelp at the pain. "That hurts!" He snaps back at you. You flinch back, feeling heat radiate around him and his veins once again shimmer under his skin. Fídi and Óphis raise their heads at the yelling, staring at their master.
You scowl at him. "If you hold still, it wouldn't hurt as much!"
He twists his mouth, scowling back. "Hast thou not fled, this wouldn't hath happened!"
Scoffing at his remark; you pull the bloodied cloth off his arm and throw the rag haphazardly into the bowl. Water droplets splash out in all directions, wetting your skirt and a few hit Messmer on his face. He flinches away, closing his golden eye.
"If you hadn't frightened me, I wouldn't have run away!"
The snake's heads flicker between the pair of you as you yell back and forth. Messmer opened his mouth to retort but left speechless. He lets out a stuttering noise as he tries to find his words.
"Well, well, well."
You fold your arms, eyebrow arched, and lips pursed, waiting for his retort.
"Well, hadst thou heeded my words, thou wouldst not have been in the basement." he tilts his head at you, squinting his golden eye.
You feel a twinge of guilt at his comment; it's true, you shouldn't have been snooping and sneaking around. But you also felt compelled to do so.
You feel a small tint of blush on your cheeks and chest for being caught. You shuffle on your knees.
"Well, you should learn to control your temper."
Fídi and Óphis nod their heads at you in agreement. Messmer turns and scowls at them next. They bow their heads and turn away, coiling back around each other and basking in the warmth of the hearth.
Messmer huffs again, pouting. You hold out your hand, hoping he will accept your help. Instead, he stays stoic and frowns at you.
Getting frustrated at his mood, you reach out and take his wounded arm without asking, pulling it towards you with a strong tug. You see his eyebrows raise at your boldness, how easily you touch him without fear.
After a moment, you see his face soften at your touch, his lip part, and you swear you see him shiver.
Snapping out of your thoughts, you lick your dry lips and hum.
"Now hold still,” your commands, pausing for a moment before softening your tone, “Please, this might sting."
He hisses at the pain.
Gently, you clean the wound and wrap it tightly with a fresh cloth. You flick your eyes up to his softened features as they tenderly watch you work delicately over his wound. You quickly return your gaze downwards. Messmer notices you watching him watching you. He inspects your face, how you twist your mouth when concentrating, that small line between your brows as they furrow.
You flick your eyes back up again and catch him staring at you. He quickly looks away, embarrassed. Fídi and Óphis look at each other and squint, mouths curving into a smirk. Messmer sees the snake's expression and waves his hand at them, silently telling them to cease their behaviour.
"Thank you." you mutter first, causing Messmer to whip his head around to look at you again. His chest tightens at your politeness. You pat the bandage as a sign you were done, and Messmer retracts his arm back, cradling it with his other hand, inspecting your talents. Tilting his head at you again.
"For what? It is I who should be thanking thee for thy generosity." He runs his long fingers over your work. He was impressed. He wondered about your background, where you learnt such immaculate skills.
You pet the snake pair, who settled back down for sleep. Carefully and quietly, you pick up the blood-stained rag and water bowl and stand up, your legs sore and shaking as the adrenaline has worn off. Slowly, before exiting the room, you look down at him.
"For saving my life." you smile softly at him; eyes lined with tears of gratitude. Before he can reply, you swiftly exit the room as fast as your tired legs could carry you.
Messmer feels his shoulders drop, the weight in his chest lighten, and he blushes. He stares at the door, lips slightly parted and a blank expression.
Once again, he gingerly brushes his bandage where your finger last touched, and he sighs, thinking about your truthful remarks.
"Thou art most welcome." He mutters into the empty room, the only noise coming from the crackling hearth.
──── ꒷ ────
Behind the door, you hear his answer and find yourself smiling.
