Can I request some Invincible characters with a GN S/O whose an eldritch/cosmic horror? They actually do a pretty good job of pretending to be human... as long as you don't stare to long at them (else you'll see them laughing with their eyes). If you've ever seen The Summer Hikaru Died, their true self looks at lot like "Hikaru's" impurity form!
oh this is a fun idea!
Okay, let's see...
Mark Grayson: he probably meets you in space. You notice him first and become interested in this colourful earth boy and decide to follow him. Mark probably notices some "colourful blobby" thing following him, but doesn't connect it to you later on when you first introduce your new human self to him. He probably clicks on real late into the game that you're not what you seem to be, y'know, after noticing you don't get hurt or eat or even breathe... or blink. Or that your eyes reflect light in photos. Yeah...
He's actually really happy you're not a normal person because it means he won't have to worry about losing you as much. What will he have after five hundred years? You.
Conquest: Viltrumites aren't supposed to breed with "lesser" species, so your human disguise really works in his favour. Though it starts to fall apart when he realises you're a little too durable/powerful for a human. And he knows you're not a Viltrumite, so... what are you?
Upon revealing your true form to him, Conquest immediately asks: "Can I fight you?" Followed promptly by: "Can we mate in this form?" Y'know, the important questions. He finds you a little weird looking at first but quickly adjusts. For a universe full of millions of aliens, you're easily the most unique lifeform he's come across after all.
He especially loves how durable you are. Finally, a companion! And one that won't die easily or soon!
Cecil Stedman: ... there's no way this man doesn't know. Someway, somehow, he learns the truth. He practically lives at the GDA which is chock-full of different types of security sensors. One of them is bound to pick up on your inhuman status. And when it does...
He doesn't do anything. Not at first. It's the same as with Nolan: he waits and sees what you do. So long as you're peaceful/helping save lives, he lets you be. And since all you're doing is making him meals and keeping his space tidy, Cecil is happy to let you be.
When the day comes that he asks to see your true form, Cecil lets out an appropriate "... Huh." at the sight. He's not sure what he was expecting, but this sure isn't it.
Then he continues on like nothing happened. A few tentacles/dozens of eyes/void-like body won't stop him from dating you.
Rex Splode: he mentions once that magic freaks him out, so I imagine supernatural stuff does too. So while he likes you, loves you even, he can't help but side-eye you whenever you do weird shit. His magic senses are going off whenever you appear behind him without making a sound or when your shadow remains a shapeless pool under you no matter where you are or what you're doing.
"Love you babe but that's creepy" becomes his catchphrase at some point because you're always doing weird shit. He feels so vindicated when you reveal the truth to him. Like finally!
He likes poking your true form, finds it funny to touch.
Thragg: the phrase "there's always a bigger fish" is true here. Thragg is the epitome of Viltrumite strength, a Viltrumite among Viltrumites, yet you...
You're something else. Something Other.
Endless, eternal. Form shifting and changing on a whim, only glimpses of your true form allowed, else he may become... overwhelmed.
For a good chunk of time he's probably disgusted by you before, after a long time of being with him, he adjusts to your presence. He sees you as a pet for a bit, then a companion. If you're capable of having children and give him an heir, Viltrumite in all but the added abilities of the unfathomable, he'll proudly call you his mate. A strong, healthy child is all he really wants with their species on the brink of extinction, after all.
The Maulers: you pretend for a bit, but the boys aren't stupid. Sooner or later they catch on that you're not human, and not in the way like they or other villains aren't. But as in literally out of this world.
They probably experiment with you for a bit, try and figure you out. Is dating a eldritch entity shocking? Yes. Is your true form headache inducing? Quite. Do they really care? Not as long as they can run tests on you. They are scientists, after all.
Thinking about… a bloodthirsty vampire hunter’s unfortunate encounter of meeting a protective vampire.
CW : gruesome deaths, children abuse, horror, assault, many blood, torture, southern! Vampire Hunter, hints that vampires are immortal, but needs to regress age when they’re too old, reader having a distorted vision about justice and equal exchange, some cannibalism? Reader implied to be fem, but any genders can read! Reader is crazy and kinda psychotic??
Word Count : 2.4k+ words
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who turned into what he is now because of what happened to his family. He’s only a humble farmer who used to be an outlaw when he's younger. He decided to settle down with the woman he fell head over heels with, and had three children together with her. It was a rainy day, and he came home with his wife and children already dead and pale, bodies sucked out of their blood with fang marks on their necks.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who had to bury his family with his own hands. His farmer friends are utterly worried about him. His hands may tremble as he dug the dirt behind his house, his eyes throbbing with pain because he cried himself a river hugging each of their corpse, and his head drooping with exhaustion as he carved each of their name on heavy stone for their headstone, but he refused to rest until he made sure they’re resting in a better place.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who finally slept after burying them, where he is tortured with questions and scenarios. What if he was there? What will happen if he’s with them? Will he die together with them?
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who burnt down his home the next day. He grabbed his wife’s favourite shawl, and his children’s drawings. His own belongings? Just stored in his horse’s saddle and his bag. He couldn’t bear living in the same place where his family was slaughtered. He swore he could smell the blood stuck on the floor and walls, despite knowing his friends already scrubbed it clean.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who left the town to seek other vampire hunters to learn how to hunt and kill vampires. His farmer friends told him not to make such hasty decisions when he’s still blinded by agony and sadness, but he has made up his mind. So after thanking his friends, they all go to the town’s edge to send him off, and to remind him they’ll still accept and help him if he ever decides to come back.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who no longer feared death, because he knew his family would be waiting for him. He became another hunter’s apprentice, learning and documenting ways to trap and end a vampire’s life.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who moved from town to town, seeking for different answers to kill them. Most effective is severing their heads, or fire that’ll melt their body from their bones, and silver bullets.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who discovered that silver bullets, especially for shotguns, are extremely expensive. Killing vampires is very risky, so most hunters decide to catch them and bring them to the town’s sheriff, where they’ll be burnt in the center of town for everyone to see.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who doesn’t want to do that. He wants to kill them with his very own hands. His master advised him not to because he got 0 experience hunting vampires. But he refuses. He sells his cherished belongings (not his wedding rings though, he wore them as his necklace for good luck, and buys silver knife and some bullets.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who starts seeking for weaker, recently turned vampires. He follows rumors through town and meets the new vampire. The vampire is still sloppy, and not too tricky to follow. So when the man is eating on a young woman’s flesh, he cocked his shotgun, aimed and shot the vampire on the back. The vampire instantly wailed from the pain, but before he could flee, pre-yan! Vampire hunter is already lassoing him from behind.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who threw the man on the ground, before pulling the silver blade from his bag. He stabbed it on the vampire’s neck, and deep, dark red blood spurted out from the wound like a fountain. He stabbed him again, again and again, effectively separating the vampire’s head from its body.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who burnt the body, making sure it’s all turned to dust, before riding his horse back to town, with blood on his face and hands. The vampire’s head gripped on his hand like a grotesque gift. Once he arrived at the sheriff's office, he hurled the head to the table, before lighting up a cigarette.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who ended up as a legend for townspeople because of how closed off he is. He thanked his master and left on his own. He goes on his own taking bounties, helping townsfolk, and killing vampires.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who got slightly obsessed with the concept of torturing vampires. He kept one alive out of curiosity. He ties the vampire on a tree, and he comes to slash their skin with his knives just to see how long it took for them to heal, and how they’ll get weaker without human blood.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who kills for the love of the game. Sometimes he left vampire corpses in the forests with their bodies still attached, their heads already severed with an empty shell of silver bullet near its face… Or where the face is supposed to be at. It’s just a hollow, gory mess of organs.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who made a fatal mistake of planning to kill a vampire child. He’s never heard of children getting turned into such creatures. He heard that a boy went missing in a forest, and found some kind of forest protector who’s a pale, young girl. The girl brought him back to the town, but hearing the descriptions made him sure it’s a vampire.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who found the child chasing fireflies inside a nearby forest. He’s about to aim his gun at her, when he felt a kick on his head, and his lungs derived from air.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who woke up tied into a chair in a dim room. His sight only comes from a small fireplace near his seat. He could hear a soft sound of a violin, and a tall figure looming.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who started screaming profanities and threats to be let out from the ropes, only to earn a sudden stop of the violin, and the figure creeping up to him. His head is touched by two pale hands, and his head pulled to a raised knee, making him choke as his nose cracked on impact.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who felt his heart rush from adrenaline, and fear for the first time in years. The figure crouched in front of him, and grabbed his jaw carefully while inspecting his wound like a madman. Meanwhile, you just stared back with a blank look.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, whose breath hitched as you took a stool and sat in front of him. Your hand held his silver knife with no problem, and nicked his skin just because. Your wide smile scares him with the glint of fangs.
“You see, you almost killed a toddler that I gave a second chance of life to.” You sighed calmly, and snapped the knife into two. It was getting dull anyways.
“I reckon you’ll be such a kind savior, p-partner. Is this a sick experiment you’re conducting on children?!” The vampire hunter spat back, only to have you slap him.
“Let me tell you a little story then, outlaw. Perhaps you’ll feel just a tiny bit of remorse when you realise that not all vampires are the same.”
ᛝ You, who was born already as a vampire. Your parents are two powerful vampires who let you live independently. You, oddly enough, disliked human blood and preferred animal blood, so you hunted animals instead.
ᛝ You, who spends time resting inside your palace minding your own business. Who knows what your parents are doing? They’re probably in a cocoon of their bat nests, sleeping and eventually turning back to their young ages.
ᛝ You, who was drinking a pig’s blood in a nearby farm when you heard the family owner laughing so loudly. You raised your head up and saw the family having a feast. You decided to walk around for a bit, only to almost step on a girl, whose ankles are tied using metal chains, her body small and so thin you can see the bones, and the smell from her leg… it smells rotten. She’s dying, evident from her shallow breaths and weak voice begging for her ‘mother’.
ᛝ You, who stabbed your hand near a fence, letting your blood pool on it before gently feeding it to the child. You feel a little lightheaded, but you can’t leave the girl like this, not with her bruises and cries.
ᛝ You, who placed your cloak and cradled the child on your chest until she woke up. You ask her for her name, and she has none. All she knows is she’s chained outside because she’s born pale. Her father thought she’s cursed, or that his wife had cheated on him with a vampire. Her mother, not wanting to live in the streets, chose to admit she cheated, and begged for forgiveness. Ever since, the girl has to live near the barn, eating leftovers by the family, while sometimes earning a beating from them if she’s unlucky.
ᛝ You, who is baffled after hearing what the girl just said. She’s probably just anemic. But her family treats her like this? You bundled her up and told her to wait, while you went to her home. She covered her ears, but she could hear screams off in the distance.
ᛝ You, who came back throwing her father’s corpse in front of her. She raised her head only to see you carrying her mother on your shoulder, and her older brother on your other hand, dragged like an unworthy mat. She could see deep wound on their neck, as if you used your nails to pierce through their muscles and flesh.
ᛝ You, who told her to eat and feed. Recently turned vampires need a lot of blood. Especially because she’s wounded and injured. You even show her how to do it with your fangs despite not liking how human blood tasted like.
ᛝ You, who brought the girl home after forcing her to drink all the blood of her family members. After all, is it not sweet as justice? And she really needs to drink them all if she wants to heal. You bathed her, applied ointments on her bruises, and dressed her up in your old dresses from when you’re a baby.
ᛝ You, who named her Charlotte. Charles means ‘free man’ right? So you’ll give her a memento, A name that shows she has broken free. Charlotte, your beloved daughter who you’ll always cherish. Charlotte, who begs you not to hunt for humans, so you settle with buying blood bags from a vampire acquaintance who disguises himself as a doctor in town.
ᛝ You, who tilted your head when he groaned and cried as you finished the story. Isn’t this equal exchange? You helped set her free. If this man doesn’t understand, then you wouldn’t care. You stood up and stopped the fire on purpose, intending to torture him with hunger and hipothermia for his crimes. You’ve heard how he’s a renowned vampire hunter.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who stayed quiet for days. It’s embarrassing. He starts to get delirious and overthinks his decision. On the third day of no food and water, he can hear the door click, and small pitter patters of feet nearing him. When he raised his head, he saw the same girl he wanted to kill.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, whose nose got hit by the smell of bread. Charlotte makes a sign for him to stay quiet, and feeds him with the bread and water.
“Please don’t misunderstand mama… She’s difficult to understand, but she cares deeply about me.”
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who felt extreme guilt when she waved her hand at him, and left the room. He’s stuck inside the same dark room again.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who woke up the next day with you already playing the violin again. The fire is started, and his joints are thanking the gods with how tired he was.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who got another smile from you, while you sauntered your way back to him. You grabbed his jaw again, your thumb rubbing his dry lips in mockery as he looked up with fear.
“You see, a little dove came to me… Asking me to let you go yesterday. I would like to refuse, but she insists.” You hummed, your eyes darting to his ears.
“She said… I can take one body part away from you as equal exchange. Then I’ll let you go.” You mumbled, before smiling and rubbing his left helix.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, whose screams could be heard as you forcefully cut his left ear using a dull blade to amplify the pain. When you’re done, you throw the severed ear inside the scorching fire. He’s fully sobbing now, blood is moving everywhere.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who saw you tear your own skin on your palm, before mixing your blood together. His crying got louder as you grinned at him.
“Now you have my blood in your system, healing you from the inside. What is so different between us now, Mr. Hunter?”
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who passed out from the stress, all he can hear is your laughter. He woke up with his ear already patched with bandages, and his arm burning. When he raised it up, there were clear words of ‘STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER’, presumably carved with the same knife when he was unconscious. His shotgun is already broken into two pieces, his guess is you’ve stomped it to shreds. But he can see some food and clean water, mayhaps left by Charlotte herself.
ᛝ pre-yan! Vampire hunter, who felt something blooming in his heart. Fear, guilt, anger and sadness. Now all he wants to do is to thank the kid. And perhaps not get killed by her bat-shit crazy parent.
A/N : oh god writing this is so fun??? Batshit crazy, psycho YN is actually great! And for clarification, YN gives him blood to stop his infection and heal him. He wouldn't turn into a vampire, it's just a small quantity of blood. Special thanks to the anon that sends me the ask about yan! Vamp hunter and vamp! Reader
Hope you all enjoy! Reblogs are appreciated, reqs and asks even more so.
info!☆ Wynorrific, the word of being visually beautiful.. but being horrific at the same times. This is Yandere batfam, but I got lazy putting Yandere and batfam into the font. But reader is a monster in human form, trying to mimick humans for their/her own amusement. This is my first time writing something like this, so let me know if it’s a little shitty lol.
☆warnings: disturbing description, body horror, sickening applied of attempted 🍇, along ignoring how reader is a red flag
正気は決して選択肢ではありませんでした。
standing with a bloody mouth, a young woman with a beautiful figure and beautiful aura stood above a dead corpse. Its ribs showing out as if a deer has been mauled by a bear.
The woman’s face shifted with a crunches, a shadow, making her face looked blacked out expect her dilated eyes and white around the pupil. She walked from the carcass, the blood had ruined the cute frilly white dress she wore. It was a date. A blind date that she stole from another girl who she murdered with her cold hands. Going as “her”.
But why did the man grab her into an alley and try to force himself onto her? Cover her mouth, with such darkness into his eyes. Whatever that was, she didn’t have time for it as her mouth had enlarged, showing rows of sharp teeth and a crack of her neck.
Dislocating it, showing a bone, the man screamed and got of her, but it was too late when her eyes rolled back to show blood dripping down and grabbing the man with a dark tendril and dragging him back. As he was dragged back, her mouth widened. Gulping the man down with sickening chews. Bones shattered, screams muffled. She spit him out, showing the mangled body, his limbs all distorted.
But the smell of blood was so enticing. She couldn’t help but plunge into his stomach and get his organs, especially his guts and heart.
That’s where it all began as the woman walked out the alley with a deranged stare. Shifting to look more human, she appeared as the siren she is. Wiping the blood from her mouth, her face completely human and stable.
It’s just her bloody clothes that will draw attention, especially that the fact that the dress is white. What could be the issue to the fact that maybe just maybe..she could find another victim.
It was a new day, Bruce is in his batcave, looking at the bat computer. Detective Gordon had informed Batman of this “cannibalism case” he called when seeing an unidentified body that resembles a man. His ribcage open and all his organs taken out as if he was the turkey to a thanksgiving dinner.
No person like this in Gotham could make a disturbing scene unless it’s a something instead. Bruce narrowed his eyes at the picture uncensored. If there’s one thing he’s not surprised about, is that the abnormal nature of this.
This has been going on for five months, and no surprising update on who’s doing this.
Jason came down the cave, his eyes looking at the screen with hum. “Is the manic still on the loose? Thought you could catch them old man.” Jason said, clicking his tongue. Bruce didn’t glance at him, but acknowledged as he spoke.
“All prisoners in Arkham Asylum have passed the test to not even knocking who cause this circumstance. Not even joker.” The green eyed male rolled his eyes as he walked to his father. “Well, guess we gotta find this bastard by person to person.”
This made Bruce turn around with seriousness, “Jason. This is no matter for you to act reckless. We don’t know how capable this person, or something is.” Jason clicked his tongue again and walked off. “I’m Jason fucking Todd. Being reckless is my thing Bruce.”
With that he left, he knew he should see more of what this thing could do or be. But seeing how it’s slowly creeping toward crime alley, his turf. It’s not best to wait around in his eyes.
It was now night, Jason as Red hood is patrolling crime alley. He looked over a building to see a woman with bloodied clothes, eyes widening behind his helmet, he got down to see if she needed any help. The monster, the woman, the thing that has made its performance of carcasses, was in crime alley, hearing about a lot of bad things.
She thought, “why not come here.. and eat?” With that, she walked without a care. Her heels clacking, her hair shining with the moonlight, her eyes still. But hearing heavy feet behind her, her face shifted. She paused, her head tilting to a deep voice.
“Hey, miss? You alright?” She turned slowly, but it wasn’t her body. But her head. Her neck looking rung out, her blacked out face showing red eyes with black full pupils. She started to walk towards Jason.
Jason stood still, he couldn’t decide whether to just shoot her down… or see what she might do. She’s walking backwards with her head twisted back as if she was some possessed person in a horror movie.
“Fuck it.” Jason pulled his gun out, aiming it at the woman who made these gargling noise as if she was chocking on her own tongue. Before he could aim it at her, a black tendril swung at him. Jason moved back only to get his leg snatched up and dragged.
He gritted his teeth, seeing those eyes piercing into his skull. It felt like she could see who he really was. But what he didn’t expect was for her face to morph to look more human. Her features… were beautiful. Her lashes matched her eyes perfectly, it was like she didn’t need anything to look more beautiful. Stunned by the beauty, he was then flung.
A pained moan leaves his body when hitting a brick wall. He has fallen onto his face, getting up to see the woman was gone. Going to find another that wasn’t.. infected. But the face of the woman… the monster, whatever she is, has been engraved into his brain.
Pairing: Dean Winchester X Y/N Singer; American Dean Winchester X English Y/N L/N; American Dean Winchester X American Y/N L/N; English Dean Winchester X English Y/N L/N
Blurb: You must've read a lot of enemies-to-lovers, let me show how someone can be your lover and enemy . . .
Warnings/Trigger Warnings (18+): language, gore, major and minor character deaths, break up, major angst, surprise ending, the Supernatural Wars (TSW) spoilers.
Song Inspiration: Love and War by Fleurie.
Challenge: This chapter is a surprise ending and a connecter to my three series, the Supernatural Wars, Purgatory Series, and another one that's in the works right now (find those stories from the links below)! The first chapter can be read as a standalone one-shot, but this chapter will have to be read as part of the series. Hope you enjoy 🥰❤️!
{ Series Masterlist ; Main Masterlist ; Part 1 }
Love and War: Purgatory Bonus.
Sitting in the library, my ass felt like it had been stuck with a superglue to the chair; it almost hurt to sit in now.
I could've gotten up, fetched a good whiskey, and paced around a little; probably hit the training center or the garage or the gun range - anything that would prove soothing after the long day this was turning out to be - anything that could get me out of this goddamn research, out of wallowing in my misery.
See, we had a couple of teensy-weensy problems on our hands.
Firstly, we had been thrown into another frying pan that kids liked to call the apocalypse these days.
Secondly, monsters seemed to be turning up all over our radars these past few days, and almost all the hunters in America were running on back-to-back cases to save people. Something that even Sam and I had been doing when we found her.
Which makes my third point: Y/N.
So, she was basically this girl we found on the roadside, lying unconscious in the middle of nowhere; wearing ripped clothes, her skin smattered with bruises and scratches that made me think that she had gone ten rounds with a wild cat - whose personality she seemed to match. But here's what got our panties in a twist: she didn't remember anything sans her name.
She shouldn't have been a clinch in our plans to take up the Rugaru case up in the north, but here came the clinch.
I've seen her before. In Purgatory.
Hell, I've done more than "seen" her before. I've loved her. I've gotten my heart ripped out by her. And here she stands - without any recollection of what she did, or how she got here. Without realizing that she's the Brit who saved my life.
She had come adorning my amulet - a replica of what I had years ago. We didn't how she got it, she didn't know how she got it.
But, frankly, it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was that she has been messing with my goddamn mind since the first fucking moment she met me.
Now that I've finally found her again, I've promised myself that I wouldn't go through that again - I wouldn't let her go. There was something inside me that told me that if I lost her today, I would have to grieve her.
And I can't do that. Not again.
I was brought out of my reverie when a storming and determined Y/N rushed out with Sammy on her heels.
'Whoa, whoa, easy there,' I stood up with my hands raised.
She stopped dead in her tracks as if caught doing something illegal.
'What's going on?'
'She wants to go after Rowena,' Sam explained from behind her, towering over her.
'What, why?'
'I want to know what happened to them, Dean,' her accent bled into her voice, too strong - unlike the accent she had phased out or rather tried to, over the years when she lived in Purgatory but coming back here seemed to have brought it back full force.
'You lost me.'
She sighed as if speaking to an insolent kid. 'The book Rowena gave me. It contained a story of—of a far-away kingdom, two lovers, and seven regions. And . . . I just need know what happened to them! The pages where the end should be are missing!'
The gears in my mind turned. We had called Rowena after Castiel mentioned how her memories weren't gone by fluke - but it had been devised that way by someone. The only creatures powerful enough to do that were the witches, hence, the call to a certain redhead.
She handed Y/N the book to keep her entertained while she investigated the "subject" (in Rowena's words, even though I told her not to call Y/N that). A book that Y/N refused to return when Rowena left - the witch just waved it off by saying that she'd collect it when she came back with a solution for Y/N's amnesia.
Before I could formulate a response, Y/N was already rushing up the stairs.
'Hold on, you're not going anywhere!' I demanded, wondering how the hell she was even going to find the damn witch.
Moreover, it had been years since I last saw her, and yet, she seemed to be the only woman who seemed to put a smile on my face and ease on my heart. I can't see letting her go without, at least, some fucking explanation.
'Y/N, you don't have your memories yet. We don't know what dangers lie ahead of you if you leave this place.'
'I know, Sam,' she exclaimed, standing a few steps higher from where Sam and I were at the bottom of the metal staircase that led us outdoors. 'But I can't shake this feeling out of my head. I feel like I lived this story. I can't sleep until I've found out the climax of this book!' Not waiting for us to recover, she turned toe and climbed up the steps two at a time.
We followed suit, my annoyance with her stubborn recklessness burgeoning - why was she always like this?
'Whoa, I'm not ready to play "Finding Dory"! You're not walking out of here - end of discussion.'
My hand reached out to her elbow, brushing against the scar her shirt's sleeves weren't long enough to cover.
And what happened next was too fast that it almost didn't register with me.
She gasped, all the air rushed out of her; her eyes misting over and fading under the white sheet that seemed to draw over her outstanding e/c irises; and then her head lolled forward, her body free-falling - almost hitting the ground but my reflexes made me hold her.
Her head hit my chest over my heart with a soft thud, and her limbs lost all their energy as she went limp in my arms. Her eyes closed just as my voice called her name out in panic.
Oh, this cannot be happening to me right now!
Y/N bolted on the bed, chest heaving with pants. Eyes wild and overwhelmed with the events that had unfolded; I knew a synopsis from Rowena's recounting. If anyone was listening, I fucking said it was a bad idea as soon as it had been suggested.
My fingers automatically found hers, latching on as if my life depended on her (it did).
'Darlin', you okay?'
The depths of my concern were endless, and my heart threatened to burst past my ribcage like in the cartoons - but just slightly more fatal to my health.
'Dean,' she breathed out shakily.
Her shoulders slouched as she leaned forward to rest in my arms.
I held her gratefully, breathing out through my nose in relief; my lips brushed on her forehead.
'Dean, oh, my God,' her voice cracked.
'What is it?' I pulled back, speaking quickly, trying not to let the panic take the wheel. 'How can I help?'
She shook her head, gazing in my eyes with so much hurt that withered my heart.
Suddenly, she jutted forward, landing her lips on mine in a shocking yet I-will-die-if-I-do-not-do-this manner. My eyes widened before they closed in submission, letting her take the lead as my hands found purchase on either side of her waist.
Sebastian cleared his throat awkwardly. 'Still here, boss.'
Y/N pulled away gasping like a fish out of water, gulping as red flooded her face. 'I'm sorry, Seb.'
He chuckled. 'No worries, Deadeye. Did you get it?'
She nodded, her haphazard hands producing the necklace she went to the alternate universe for.
It was the sign of the secret relationship and love, given by another Dean to another Y/N.
There was only one another universe where Y/N and I's namesakes and lookalikes were royalty - there were more royal couple like ours, but some had different names, or different birthmarks, or something or the other that differed.
There was only one other royal couple like ours, and we needed their symbol of love for this case.
Something that required Y/N to bend through space and time with the assistance of a redheaded witch, and a trench-coated angel, and a few more odds and ends.
I would have been against it had it not been Y/N's only chance of surviving against Michael, the archangel whose vessel I was supposed to be, but Y/N won't let me say "yes".
As grateful as I am to her for protecting me, I don't like the fact that this involves risking the love of my life in more ways than I can count some days.
'Can I?' Sebastian stepped forward with a tentative hand extended.
She handed it over. 'Please, be careful . . . I can't go through that again.'
He smiled softly, exchanging a look with me. 'I will be. You should sleep the jet-lag off, Y/N.'
The room vacated and I finally turned to her, her breathing just now starting to even out. Brushing a strand out of her face, I smiled softly at my soulmate.
'Are you okay?' I repeated.
Tears swelled in her eyes, and she swallowed the mythic lump gathered in her throat.
'Do you . . . do you know what happened?'
I pursed my lips, 'Rowena gave me a rundown.' I grimaced. 'Can't imagine any of it might have been fun for you, babe.'
'It wasn't,' she pouted, looking really upset. She sniffled, 'It wasn't . . . It wasn't that I just went there, and that I hitched a ride in the Y/N's of the other Universes. but I experienced one of their deaths and . . . I-I don't even remember what else!'
She pulled my hand till she had maneuvered me around her body - up and out of my chair and lounging behind her on the bed; my legs tangled with hers, arms tightening around what I now understood was a shivering frame, and she settled against my chest with her head laid down over my heart. She took a few moments as my fingers carded through her open locks.
She kissed my chest, making my heart skip a beat despite so many times she'd done it.
'Talk to me,' I kissed her on the head. 'Tell me everything, darling.'
'It was awful and I can't put my finger on why . . . I mean, first, I went to that Royal Universe like we planned - I-I-I didn't even remember myself or who I was when I was there,' she shuddered. 'It was only until that other woman died because of that arrow . . . I think . . . that I came alive in her body. Until then I was trapped in the back of her mind like some damn demon possession gone right?' She shook her head, 'I don't even know.'
'Did it hurt? Dying?'
'A bit,' she sniffled, 'didn't feel most of it - but what was worst was seeing you dead - died in my fucking arms!'
'I'm not going anywhere,' I whispered into her hair, my arms constricting further like shrinking steel bands.
She made herself smaller, slinging her legs over my thighs till she was sitting on my lap and burying her face into the crook of my neck, breathing my scent in till she had calmed down more.
'Anyway,' she cleared her throat when she had found her voice again, her words muffled against my neck and tickling me a bit - but I closed my eyes and relished the feeling.
'Rowena kept a good eye on me - whichever world I went into. She protected me as much as could there, protected me from some damn Phantoms, or something. I killed Gordon, I think - everything's so hazy but my emotions are so heightened and I don't know why but I'm panicking. I mean, the second Universe is woozier than the first!
'Like, I vaguely recall the American hunters - you, and Sam - and you looked at me like I had done something to you! Like you missed me or something . . . Obviously, my brain had been fried to the point where I couldn't even remember my own last name!
'So, I didn't know what that look was for back there. I was just this girl they'd picked on the side of the road, I guess. With the necklace.'
'Did you hijack that Universe's Y/N, too?' I asked eventhough I knew, trying to give a structure to her rant if it helped her. 'The American version?'
'I think so, yeah, yeah, I think I did. But in our struggle for control, we both ended up cancelling out each other's memories, and I kinda won? Um, I guess, yeah. So, it was my personality with no memories while the original host sat on the back burner . . . Talking to me? Screaming, maybe, I don't remember.'
I didn't know that she talked to the American version. Although Rowena did say it was impossible to get into that dreamwalker's head, so it would make sense if something happened there that the witch couldn't know.
Seeing her anxiety on the rise, though, made me change the topic.
'And then Rowena's book got you out,' I gently prompted her to a finish before she could dwell on something that was making her head reel.
'I think . . . ' she raised her hand to rub her face tiredly.
'Do you want to sleep first, darling?' I suggested.
'Just let me finish,' she insisted, even though her eyes were already half-closed. 'So, our Rowena's visiting spirit gave me that book, as discussed.' Rowena had been pretending to be other Rowenas in whichever Universes she visited. 'It was the exact same story I had experienced in the first Universe - her way of trying to give me "my memories" back. But the pages in the end were ripped, and I panicked, because my own memories were like, behind a wall or something, and they were begging me to come back, and—' I breathed in deeply, 'No, wait, I think I fought with—No, I don't - I don't know! It just didn't work, so I panicked more. I really wanted my memories to come back . . . I really wanted to come back and—' She cut herself off. 'Why don't I remember? I feel like it's pertinent that I remember this thing. Like, it's okay to forget everything else - just this one thing . . . !'
I smoothed my hands soothingly down her sides. 'You're okay, darling. It's okay,' I whispered into her hair. 'You don't have to think about it now. You got what you went for, right? Just let it go. We knew you were going to forget anyway, right?'
A pregnant pause.
'I thought I'd never see you again,' her bottom lip trembled, twisting my heartstrings.
'Oh, baby,' I muttered, tightening my hold on her. 'I'm sorry you had to go through that.'
She relaxed further in my arms, and I might've been a little prideful that such a strong woman wanted to rely on me for comfort.
'Long story short,' you murmured, a little resigned. 'The American version of you touched this scar,' her index finger absent-mindedly dragged along the scar she had gotten when she fell from a tree while we were on a hunt - a scar that only one other Royal couple replicated, who were now dead. 'Then I got pulled into reality. Our reality.'
'Now you're here,' I said quitely. 'You're not going anywhere.' That one was a promise.
'Thank you,' she whispered.
I stroked her hair, holding her close to me. Excessive relief was coursing through my every vein and making me lightheaded.
Sebastian knocked on the door and peek in once. 'Hey.'
I nodded at him in acknowledgement.
'Rowena and Kaia had a quick question. She figure out what the dreamwalker wanted from her?'
I didn't let a frown past my poker face. 'No,' I replied. Then gestured at her in my arms where she had slipped into the bottomless recesses of her brain, sleeping soundly, finally calm against me.
My lips quirked up in a small smirk - every time I looked at her, she is beautiful. The way this woman rules on my heart - I swear I could die for her.
'Oh, well, maybe we'll know when she wakes up,' Sebastain said.
I shrug absent-mindedly. But why do I have the feeling that it was her conversation with that dreamwalker that she couldn't remember that had her scared like that?
The portal land the group to what appears to be underground. Wild immediately pull out torches but light them proof to be difficult til reader lit the torches thanks to being half monster so the group have few torches and now they're on the move to try find a possible exit of this situation.
Reader look around while follow the group yet having a very bad feeling til wind yell out that he see a door ahead. Wind was going to touch the door but hyrule stop him to tell him that the door might be a trap but warrior join and say he'll carefully open the door and once open show a giant area that's have statues and the walls have murals which the group carefully check out the area. Reader look at the murals and notice that it shows their kind orgins from protector of gods/goddesses to guide of sages til the last murals made reader bite back the emotions seeing their kind being slain by the hero and what's left dissapeared from hyrule history which wild see reader looking at the murals, walk over to silently grab their hand and give them comfort til a click noise caught everyone attention and look to see what was that notice only to see that twilight step on a hidden trap on the floor that the statue in the middle to be what look like legend open his eyes which have crystals that glow blue turn red and a unsettling magic fill the area. Hyrule cover his mouth feeling the unsettling magic drain him yet making him felt very ill, he feel like he's slipping away by this unsettling magic that his eyes turn red as well under the influence of this magic. but reader held their head in pain and wild asking what's happening only being push back as reader turn to their monster form which the group notice that the gem on their head is red.
Time: everyone arm yourselves now!-
Reader breath out a breath and growling their eyes now red let out a battle cry as everyone realizes now their in serious danger and twilight try run to the statue of legend to try to destroy it but get tackle by warrior to the ground as a fireball miss his head and the two look to see hyrule pull out his sword and his other hand is fire.
Legend: shit! He's under control by -
Monster reader let out a roar as hyrule let out this time lighting now the group divide have to fight the two. Wild for the first time is shaking not of fear or cowardice. It's that he facing the person he loves and knows their under the magic control.
Time: well need to destroy that statue! But they're block us from getting near it.
The group nod seeing that the two are keeping the chain from coming to the statue and just as the chain were about to anything the other statues came to life and go to attack the chain.
I-... I've lost the plot. This is completely my fault. I took too long. ^.^*
Time: respect him all the way since he met him in/during the war when time was a child and see him now make (warrior) felt happy that he was able to grown up
Twilight: brother in arms and rival for random things
Sky: a respectful hero yet a mother hen of everyone
Wild: See him as a wild knight and a brother in arms at the same time
Legend: grumpy bunny guy since he sees a bit rabbit hobbies in him, so will use nickname rabbit names on him to tease him
Hyrule: find him interesting hero but is the first to notice his hiding his hands hobbies so keep a eye on him
Four: a respect hero, blacksmith,and brother in arms
Wind: a little brother , a young hero, yet a bit mad that a child has to take the mantle as a hero and is dragging in it
Bonus
Ethan: respect hero and Inspiration too yet worry for his safety cause he holds two Triforce
Bubbah: sweet little brother yet is Horrified that he's younger than wind and is another hero so he silently vows to protect him and wishes to punch the gods/goddesses for allow this
Fierce:....
First: have mixed feelings about him. Respect him as a hero, yet wounder why he allow the curse to still continue???
Sia: respect her since she is not only hero sister (adopted but still) see her as an inspiring hero but question her decision on dating wild since...wild is wild
I feel like it’s kind of late to be doing a Halloween request, but I really love your writing and wanted to put in a request, so I went with a more winter themed request!
Fem!Reader was once a human, but was cursed and had become some sort winter creature. Her curse came to be when she sacrificed herself to save her friends, pissing off the assailant who wanted to kill her friends specifically. As punishment, he cursed the reader to remain stuck in the location where she saved her friends, to never be able to recognize the friends she wanted to save, to never be able to recall the names of her friends, to never be able to say her own name, and to have her appearance change so much that no one would ever recognize her. The only way to break the curse is for either the reader to admit that she should have just let her friends die or for those same exact friends to find her again and somehow be able to recognize her — proven by referring to the reader by her name (or nickname). The reader could never bring herself to do the former because, although she can’t recall their names or faces, she remembers and knows how much she loved them. The assailant believes the latter to be impossible, because there’s no way those friends of hers would ever come back. Even if they did, they wouldn’t recognize her. It’s been long enough for Reader to believe the same.
What they don’t know is that the reader’s friends are the bad batch. They’re full of surprises.
(Bonus points if the reader passes out when her curse breaks, but wakes up to the batch surrounding her. Idk it just sounds really sweet).
Nonny, bless your sweet heart for sending this idea in. We just got hit with a very unforgiving cold front (‘'m talking it dropped to eleven degrees fahrenheit this week SEND HELP) and it's giving me the inspo I need to really get in the headspace of a frosty, freezing setting! I love ideas like this. What a creative spin on such a remarkable idea! I hope you love this!!（＾∀＾●）ﾉｼ
Warning ⛓️💥
Pairing: TBB x Monster!Reader
Warnings: (SFW) near-death experience, major injury(blood/broken bones), sacrifice, supernatural curse, hurt-comfort, angst
Summary: After getting separated during a search for the missing daughter of a desperate family, a warlock corners you with a grievous decision.
Read on ao3 - 7.5k words
Writing Masterlist - My kofi✨
“How close are we now, Tech?” Echo asks for an estimated measure of distance away from the victim they’ve volunteered to locate. They were approached by a desperate pair of parents holding a picture of their lost daughter. The photo depicted a child no more than ten years old. Hunter immediately felt responsible for her safety. It’s not your typical scouting party, but you all are following a trail as best as you can. Hunter and Tech are leading the way through the blizzard, Tech guiding them using his thermal imaging scanner on his helmet while Hunter is weeding through the environment for footsteps, broken branches or other signs of frantic travel but is coming up short every step of the way.
“The signal is fading.” He remarks disappointedly while squinting through his lenses. “I’ve lost it.”
“Are you sure she came this way?” Wrecker asks, shivering from the breeze.
“That’s what her parents said” Crosshair adds with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I’m having trouble finding any evidence of that.” Hunter discloses while shaking his head in confusion.
“Someone please! Help me! It’s so cold!” A tiny voice echoes nearby, and you sprint full speed ahead towards it, throwing caution to the wind.
“I heard her! She’s this way!” You call out to them loud enough that you are sure they can still hear you, but you did not account for outrunning the whole group.
“Wait!” Hunter tries to stop you, but you’re already gone before he can reach for you. “We have to stay together!”
“That’ll be the death of her one of these days.” Crosshair criticizes your foolish actions, and Hunter rolls his eyes at him beneath his helmet.
“Stow it, Crosshair.” Echo stops any more talk of your flaws and regains the collective focus on the mission. “We have to find them both now.”
“Help! Is there anyone out there? My fingers and toes hurt really bad!” The voice continues announcing what ails her and you fear the worst has taken over in the form of frostbite. Depending on how quickly you locate the child could determine whether her digits could be saved.
“Stay where you are!” You respond to the little voice, hoping you’re offering her hope to cling to until you make it to her. “I’m coming!”
“I’m scared! I want my mommy!” She continues and you push harder into the woods, shoving yourself through the snow-dusted brush that seems to have not been disturbed in a long while. No matter. You hear her voice and that’s enough. Nothing will stop you from ensuring that little girl is saved.
“I’m almost there!” You make it to a clearing where a cave entrance hauntingly disrupts your forest path. It is encrusted with frost with icicles lining the ceiling’s entrance. The path is narrow and the biting cold is radiating unforgivingly against your skin. The glacial temperatures intimidate you, but the thought of that child freezing to death weighs heavily on your mind. “You’re gonna be okay!”
You traverse deep into the frozen caverns but find that you’ve gotten turned around, having walked past the same ice pillar at least three times now. You resort to calling out for the girl, hoping her voice will provide you with a way to locate her. “Hey! Are you there? Say something and I’ll be able to find you!”
Just as quickly as they came on, the shouts and cries of distress have stopped. It is eerily too quiet and you’re beginning to think you’ve gotten yourself lost. Your eyes dart in all directions. The identical appearance of white and ultramarine across every inch of the caverns causes you to lose your sense of direction, having gotten mixed up in the frantic search. “Please! Tell me where you are!”
“Your kindness is a fault, and it will cost you your life.” An ominous presence makes itself known, speaking to you in a stark contrast to the sweet little girl you were just tracking.
“Who’s there?” You call out to the presence, head on a swivel as you scan the cavern for any signs of life. “Show yourself!”
You follow the echo just like you did before, only with a bit more apprehension this time. Each crunchy step you take advertises your whereabouts, but you have a feeling this is by design. After what feels like an eternity of inspection, you find a ramiform chamber that spans many meters in all directions, but a particular wall lures you in.
It looks to be made entirely of a thick panel of ice, fashioned much like an obscure window. Through the window you see five silhouettes cornered by rushing flood waters far down in the area below. Beyond this panel of ice is another chamber, but where a teeming waterfall threatens to engulf them all. You can hear muffled shouting, telling the tale of their panic from afar.
“What?! NO! Guys! Hey!” You begin rapidly pounding on the glass, but it’s as fortified as a steel wall, immovable and too thick for any of them to hear you, especially with the rushing of water nearby. “I’m right here! Please! See me! See me!!”
“You should have listened to your leader.” That frightening inflection invades your ears again, clearer this time. “Only virtuous fools are gullible enough to fall for a trick like that.”
“What is this? Who are you?” Turning on your heels, you spin on the smoothness of the slick ground to face a black silhouette. His eyes are concealed from your line of sight by a dirty and tattered hood, frayed threads giving you an idea of how far gone this entity is from the warm caress of the world.
“Your hubris caused you to operate blinded by the need to be righteous. A savior.” He ignores your questions, continuing his own twisted lecture. “Who is going to save you now? Did you even think about the danger you put them in?”
“What are you talking about?!” You shout loudly at this shadow of a person, getting absolutely nowhere in this dead-end conversation. “Did you do this?!”
“On the contrary.” He discloses with a sickening chuckle. “You did.”
“No! How could I have-” Turning your back again, you look down and see that Wrecker has fashioned himself as a makeshift platform, holding Hunter, Echo, Tech and Crosshair as high as he can above the water. They don’t have much time left. If you don’t try to do something now, they’re sure to be lost forever.
“That’s too bad.” The shadow person practically teleports to speak into your ear, his wrinkled chin almost touching your shoulder. “Your curse is that you care too much.”
Having become frozen in trepidation, your mind races for possibilities to act in the name of your beloved friends. You realize that you’ve been idly tracing your index finger along one of the many throwable explosive charges that line your utility belt. The ramiform chamber is vast and deep, large enough to allow for the displacement of water to flow into your area and away from them.
“Hold on! I’ll fix this! I promise!” You scream at them through the ice wall, knowing they can’t hear you. You act more out of comforting yourself in this moment than anything, giving yourself the strength to persevere.
“It’s not going to work.” The hooded figure antagonizes you with a sing-song insult before you’ve even executed your plan, but you refuse to listen. You descend a level or so to get closer to the bottom-most portion of the chamber where the ice wall meets the floor, almost slipping all the way down due to the slick surface and uneven ground. You don’t have to throw it very far as gravity will do the heavy lifting. You just need to make sure it detonates at the bottom to allow for the water to surge elsewhere. Once you regain your footing, you unfasten one of the charges and press the center like a button, triggering a constant beeping sequence. Giving one last glance at your trusty team through the arctic partition, they are wading the water with only their chins above the surface. “You should just leave them now and save yourself.”
“Stop it!” You shout at him, struggling to concentrate on the urgent task at hand. “Just shut the fuck up already!”
Without wasting any more time, you toss the charge as hard as you can and it clatters at the base of the chamber. The beeping increases in frequency, giving way to the impending explosion. Once the beeps reach an uninterrupted ringing tone, a deafening blast reverberates in a mighty shockwave that shakes the caverns to their very core. A wide break occurs upon immediate impact, creating a web of fractures that scale all the way up to the ceiling. The chamber you’re in starts filling up, but what really accomplished your mission is when the ice wall sustains an excess of leaks. The water decreases to a more favorable level and you can see Wrecker help his brothers from having taken a tumble, albeit shaken up from the unexpected turbulence. You rejoice in their overcoming this deathly adversity, but the merriment does not last long when the remainder of the wall collapses, taking the platform you’re standing on along with it.
Your feet are swept out from under you, and for what feels like an eternity, all you experience is black. You can’t hear a sound or see a single thing. You can’t even open your mouth to take in a breath, having been engulfed by the frigid waters. Soon, the percussive thrum of your heart in your ears brings your awareness back to reality. The darkened depths of the rushing rapids have you bobbing up and down, just barely unable to breach the surface. The bright blue ambiance of the caves cast their monotone shine, peeking into the tempestuous darkness all the while you’re being flushed out of the caverns.
The debris, dislodged rocks and sharp pieces of ice slam into you at full force. You’re flailing around like a ragdoll as each mass collides with your body. Your arms suffer cruel blows, paralyzing your ability to brace yourself. You feel something bash into one of your legs, promptly shattering your bones from the knee down. You’re swirling in a violent vortex of velocity, getting battered and beaten by everything that rushes past. It isn’t until you are struck directly in the temple that your ears begin to ring and the splitting headache that comes on renders any other injuries insignificant; your consciousness waning drastically.
The limpness of your form assists in you floating to the surface, the buoyancy of your lungs carrying you upwards. You mistakenly think it’s over, pushed through the narrow channels like one would picture a thrilling waterslide, except with double the adrenaline and none of the amusement. It would seem that some of the cavern’s icicles and stalagmites have come loose, getting caught in the ebb and flow of the bustling stream. A particularly sharp spear of ice impales you between a set of ribs and a cloud of red stains the clear water that surrounds you. You scream from the pain, gurgling when your airways become obstructed from the waves.
Time feels like it slows down. The ache is radiating from every limb in your body and not a single inch of skin is saved from the hypothermic burn. You’re caught within a vice of life and death, feeling as though you could tip the scales in either direction and be content with the outcome. You slip away again, tunnel vision closing in a second time. The undertow spits you out at the bottom of a lake and you feel yourself float to the top, hoping to the gods that your spirit is being lifted to the heavens, but that is not the case.
That first breath of fresh air hits your lungs, and despite needing it so badly, it just becomes another fierce discomfort when the windchill stings you from the inside out. You gasp repeatedly, coughing mouthful after mouthful of water up, sputtering remnants while panting against all odds, dumbfounded that you’re still alive. The fatigue in every muscle group makes it a daunting task to even climb along the water bank, but you manage. The ignition of agony causes you to cry out choked sobs of panic and terror, and the first thing you think to exclaim for are your friends to make sure they’re safe.
“Guys! - khe khe - Wrecker! Echo! - khe - Hunter! Tech! Crosshair! Please! Is anyone there?!” You shout between productive coughs, regurgitating more watered-down phlegm. Your eyes scan the environment in all directions but land on nothing of significance. The body of water is fenced in by a sea of pines, towering high and locking you into this circular prison. That windchill hits you again and your nerves are shot with a culmination of torturous wounds and frostbitten appendages. Your strength is impermanent, failing to appear when you require it most. The unnatural silence of the bleak midwinter only holds the evocative moans of gelid winds as the ground beneath you is as hard as iron. The shuddering of your breath causes you to have great difficulty in enunciating even a single word to request aid. “H-h-help…”
“I told you.” That confounded voice comes to you again, transcendent and spectral as it appears like your own thoughts. The hooded figure walks towards where you lay on the water bank from the dense grove, in no hurry to lend a hand. “Your curse is that you care too much.”
“My friends!” You shriek at him, though not as intimidating as you hoped due to being indisposed, wounded and knocking on death’s door. “Where are they!?”
“Far better off than you.” He scorns at you bitterly, approaching like a hovering ghost with two red eyes glaring at you from the shroud of his hood. “I am beginning to think that your love for them surmounts the fear you have for me.”
“Y-you’d be r-right.” You stutter through the tremors throttling your body, rejecting his malice with your own.
“That will be your undoing.” He extends his arm with his fingers curling at the tips as though to make a fist but not closing all the way. As he does this, you feel the air grow heavy with static charge. The sky above the pond darkens into storm clouds with flashes of lightning striking the ground in snappy sequences. In one of these instances that a bolt makes contact, it passes straight through his hand as if manifested himself. Though, instead of the lightning disappearing in a glittering flash, it solidifies into a material resembling aged wood. A coiled twist at the tip holds a pillar of smoke from the fleeting transition and you lay there awestruck with your heart having practically leapt into your throat. He seethes, minimizing you with his beady eyes. “There were never parents searching for their lost child. I simply manipulated the good nature of those warriors of yours, but your sacrifice will have to do.”
“Why…?” You croak weakly. “Why do you wish to destroy them?”
“Destroy?” He starts laughing, wheezing hoarsely at your audacious assumption. “Wrong, child. I wish to command a barbaric and gruesome army, one that fuels the forces of evil, and that band of brothers would have been a rather herculean addition.”
“No!” You fortify your tone in opposition, speaking on behalf of their honorable propriety. “Please just… leave them alone.”
“You’re in no position to make demands or even bargain. You should have let them perish like I mentioned.” The warlock leans over you, seemingly unaffected by the scathing winds and wintry climate for he is already dead.
“I said no!” You repeat yourself, standing firm on the belief that were you to be presented with that situation again, you would repeat every move.
“As you wish.” The roaring of thunderclaps overhead startle you as another surge of energy is magnetized to his staff. It is recharged with an invigorating glow as bright as the lightning in the sky. He raises it up, tilting its axis in your direction as the full authority of the atmosphere shocks you. Time and light are nonexistent. The pain that once inflamed your physical form has subsided and all that lies before you is a vast emptiness. The sequence of events that have led you to this place seems to have slipped your mind. You’re petrified of the dark, wandering in the stillness until a voice lures you in.
“You look cold, child.” At this notion, you fold your arms instinctively to conserve what little sensation of warmth you have, finding that to be mournfully futile. A flaming beacon tempts you from afar, urging you forward like a brain-dead zombie. As you get closer, you begin to make out a blazing wall radiating the heat you’re so desperately enticed by. It wraps around you like a hug from those you love most, but you’re unable to think of anyone specific to correlate this feeling with. “Step into the flames. Warm your weary bones.”
Anything beyond fulfilling this primal goal is irrelevant, closing the distance to become one with the blaze. The flames breathe life before you, a living entity in its own right that coaxes you to become one with it. You’ll not forsake its wishes, leaping straight into the wall of fire to be consumed in an instant.
You are stirred from a deep and dreamless slumber when your psyche throttles you with the thought of burning to death, but just as quickly as that dream disappears, the memories prior to it evaporate. Dusk falls upon the snowed-in timberland. The moon hangs in the sky creating a halo of glare from the refraction of microscopic crystalline moisture. A layer of ice has formed over you, making it difficult to break free from its elemental hold. However, before you could fully rouse from the inconvenience of sleep, a splitting shriek impedes you. It is a fisherman screaming while paralyzed in fear. “Run! The golem of the lake still dwells here!”
His tiny family scrambles to carry all they can, the clatter of bait boxes and fishing poles further announcing the presence of children and even the fisherman’s wife abandoning the rest of their camping gear to flee. You would never think to harm these people, nor their children, so why are they bolting into the darkness?
With every move, you become aware of exactly what caused them to be alarmed. Once you shed the outermost layer of frost, you can make out polar rock formations that make up your jagged arms and legs. The fisherman lingers behind to ensure his family escapes, waving a torch at you to ward you off, and you are pushed to aggression against your will.
The sight of the flame awakens a rage that tests your limits, threatened by this baleful display of aggression. The closer that heat comes in contact with your limbs, it burns you severely and you want nothing more than for it to be gone. Your anger blinds you for a moment and you operate out of instinct. A savage roar brays through the woods and startles the fisherman so badly that he actually tosses the torch at you, the scorching timber smashing into splintered embers. He can’t get away fast enough, immobilized by a monster one would expect to hear about in a child’s nursery rhyme. At last, the fisherman succeeds in getting his feet back under him, whimpering all the way to safety. Once again, you’re left alone with only the shock of what just happened to plague you. An aspect about this doesn’t feel right, but you can’t put your alpine finger on it. You peer at your reflection in the lapping lake waters and do not recognize the face looking back at you. It takes on the appearance of an ice mound with personified characteristics, a glowing set of blue eyes embedded into the surface with a fanged mouth harboring row after row of opaline teeth. You are stricken with woe, knowing that your eternal fate is that of loneliness and rejection.
To all things that are housed by the great stillness of winter, the environment is rooted in violence, then the unforgiving solitude creeps in when temperatures drop, and the pond freezes over. You spend the entire night sobbing at the water bank, your deepened vocalizations now brusque and throaty with this colossal metamorphosis. In hindsight, perhaps silence would have been a preferable activity to your incessant lamenting. The fisherman that you had the misfortune of meeting has returned with an angry mob in tow, countless citizens all eager to give you a piece of their mind in hopes to drive you from one of the only sources of trout trawling for hundreds of miles.
They are wielding a disturbing collection of pitchforks and torches, waving the flares to corner you while stabbing you with their sharpened weapons. You feel the spears of metal prod at your back and arms, scraping your hardened exterior and chipping pieces away. Another wrathful episode takes over and you begin to lash out, swinging your arms in all directions until they resort to tossing their torches at you. The momentary hotness degrades your icy essence, so you retreat into the water. The scorched sections sizzle with a cloud of steam when submerged in the lake, but you’re unable to put much distance between yourself and them as each movement is confronted with an unruly impasse.
The onlooking mob pauses to watch this supernatural display compromise your movements. With the approaching sunrise comes the worst conditions of this curse. Consumed by inner darkness, you permanently remain in this monster form, forced to become frozen during the finite hours of the daytime and doomed to be imprisoned within your own statuesque body. When the mob realizes you’re no longer a subject of concern, they henceforth label the lake off limits, giving you full ownership of the desolate domain.
Once people see you as the villain, that’s all they see and it’s hard to get them to notice anything else. You live a life expecting all living things to greet you with nothing but hatred. This society is no stranger to evolving with the idea that one can be revered and loved if they kill anything the majority fears. And they call you the monster?
You have been dropped into the role of a treacherous embodiment of the unknown that the locals and explorers of the area feel the need to subjugate. You are not the invading figure, but the one attacked in your own dwelling. It is a preordained outcome of nature clashing with industrial society as you put a hindrance on their commercial fishing trades. Your tragedy is in your nature, an animal in a constant state of suffering. If you were to die like this, who would know something of you? You fall victim to humanity’s hubris, a beast that was never asked to be made even though the only beasts in your eyes are the ones invented in the name of vanquishing what they discern as a greater evil.
“Excuse me, have you seen this woman?” Echo is approaching any and all persons that intersect his path with a flyer with your picture printed on it, offering the leaflets to all who will accept them alongside Hunter, Crosshair, Tech and Wrecker. So far, no one has seen you since the disaster in the caverns. Search parties have been scanning every inch of the available woods but have seen no hide nor hair of you. “Please, contact us if you notice anything.”
“This is going nowhere!” Wrecker sits himself down in front of his own stack of flyers, defeated and despairing. “We’ll never find her at this rate!”
“We’ve been scanning every inch of these surrounding forests.” Hunter wells the worries of his brother, encouraging him as well as the others to keep on. “We will find her.”
Crosshair’s silence weighs on his heart, a sense of contrition hitting him like a dagger for the snide comment he made when you departed so urgently. You were operating with the needs of others in mind, and now you’re gone. “Hunter… We have to start preparing for another possibility.”
“And what possibility is that?” Hunter asks rhetorically, unable to humor the thought that you could be dead. Crosshair doesn’t confirm or deny his consideration, only sits in guilt-ridden silence until the thought reaches Hunter’s mind. “No! We are not looking for a corpse. We are looking for her!”
Tech interjects with a map, getting between his brothers and acting as a mediator for their oncoming scuffle to give their combative energy a better outlet to be channeled. “So far, the last area we haven’t checked is the lake.”
“Why is that?” Echo asks, thinking it would be a good place to investigate.
“You boys ain’t talkin’ ‘bout goin’ to the lake, are yah?” An elderly villager overhears the discussion, butting in at the mention of one of the only bodies of water in the area. “I’d sooner cut off my own leg and eat it before I go fishing in them parts again.”
“Why is that?” Hunter inquires.
“That be where the ice golem resides.” The villager strokes his salt and pepper beard that extends far down to his chest. The liver spots and calluses on his limbs tell the boys this man has tenure and may know what he’s talking about.
“Ice golem?” Wrecker is puzzled, having never heard those words put together before. “What the heck is that?”
“A mammoth of a creature that makes ya think it broke right off the tip o’ the mountain.” The villager raises a hand upwards to the sky, his index finger pointing at the summit in the distance. “Only crazies use it as a fishin’ hole still, but you’ll never catch me over there. No sir.”
The villager goes on his merry way, whistling to himself as if he just did them a favor for passing on the warning, but it only further convinces the boys to make their way to the lake. It’s a lengthy hike up there, the sun dipping lower in the sky as dusk approaches, but they make it with a little sunlight to spare. Wrecker is the first to spot the golem, looking more like a pile of boulders than a force to be reckoned with. “Woah. The lake is frozen over, and some weird ice block is sticking out of it.”
They close in, peering at the structure while examining the surroundings. Tech makes note of the rock formation, coming up short on natural ways it could have come to be. “It’s not an ice block. It’s an amalgamation of glacial stones.”
“Stones? All the way out there?” Echo is unsure how they got there, even more so wondering how they could have been suspended before freezing in place, still skeptical about this ‘golem’ business. They all reach the edge where the snowy grounds meet the ice, lining up side by side to really examine the structure.
“Do you guys feel that?” Hunter asks them, drawn towards the rocks by a persistent vibration almost calling to him.
“All I feel is the cold.” Wrecker shivers when the temperature drops with the sunlight.
“What is it Hunt-”
“Shhh…” Hunter cuts Echo off to train his ears on the subtle buzzing coming from meters away. He tests the integrity of the lake surface, pressing the sole of his foot to the slick flatness. The sensation travels through every inch of the lake, reverberating beyond and into the surrounding water bank. The vibrations are so strong they practically quake his bones. “You guys stay near the edge. It doesn’t look as stable towards the middle. I’m going to take a look.”
“And let you go all the way out there by yourself?” Echo reaches behind himself into his utility belt and retrieves a hand-held grapple. He secures the tether to Hunter’s waist to give him a failsafe in case the ice cannot bear his weight. “Not without a little precautionary measure.”
Hunter gives him a nod then shares a knowing glance with his brothers before making his way to the center. Everyone watches attentively, anticipating each footfall. It isn’t until Hunter is only a few paces from the center that something begins to happen.
The night sky darkens with the full absence of the sun. A web of cracks and fractures creep up the height of the formation, stopping Hunter dead in his tracks. Crosshair lowers the viewfinder on his helmet to see if he can make heads or tails of what’s going on, flakes of snow falling as to silently announce the sneaking twilight. Not a single word is spoken as they all are drawn in by the disturbance. A portion of the frosted exterior crumbles into fragments and a glowing blue pupil is revealed.
You wake up with the weight of winter detaining you, only able to blink a single eye as you gradually become aware of your surroundings. There is a strange, armored man within arm’s reach with a group of others nearby. The last memory you had was of being singed with fire and stabbed with steel. Thinking the torment is about to resume, you break free of the encrusted frost keeping you stationary, but it likewise causes the ice surrounding you to fall apart. The roar that escapes you causes Hunter to topple over, falling directly into the thick slabs of ice now floating atop the freezing lake. You pay no mind to this puny human, victimized by the elements just as you are. You retreat to the nearest edge at the opposite side of the clearing, but just as you’re about to look for a hiding place, the helpless cry of this man instills you with a sympathy you cannot interpret, forcing you to act on a different set of instincts.
He struggles to stay above the surface and you witness the tether around his waist failing in real time. It gets snipped by the sharpened border where the lake’s surface is still holding strong. Something tells you to go to him, forge your own path to changing the way people see you. You recall pieces of this sight that gives you the impression you’re experiencing deja-vu, having seen exactly this somewhere before.
You approach him slowly, his limbs locking up with his breath painstakingly racing. Plucking the man from the depths, you hold him in a single hand as your fist coils around his waist. He trembles in your grasp, numb and soaked. You deposit him on solid ground with the other men immediately working to bring his temperature up. They each take their turns scolding him for his fearlessness as it almost prompted his demise. Through his tremors, he remarks to them a vital revelation after the largest one of them removes his helmet. “H-h-her… It’s her…”
“Hunter? What did you say?” Another one of the men asks him, having not fully caught what was said. The implants lining his cranium shine in the moonlight and you end up watching them operate while peeking your head out of the water.
“His temperature is dropping too fast, Echo.” The one with a pair of goggles warns. “We need to get him out of here.”
“It’s her! It’s Iris!” Hunter exclaims when they try to disembark too soon for his tastes. He calls you by your military nickname, an acronym meaning I Require Intense Supervision. “Let me go!”
Hunter pushes his brothers aside and shouts at you loud and clear. “I could pinpoint your heartbeat anywhere! Remember who you are, Iris! Remember who you saved!”
You think to yourself, your mind weighing on that name for a little while. This sudden outcry invites you forward, each booming step rumbling the ground beneath your stone feet. Iris? Why does that name make you feel sad? Their exclamations appeal to your inner curiosity, drawn in by their focus on you. They remain seated, surrounding their brother while you proceed to exit from the lake. You’re just a handful of yards away when your vision goes black, having been teleported to the darkest corners of your psyche again.
“You look cold, child.” You take in a sharp breath, exhaling it with a cloud of breath announcing the frigid environment. The warmth radiating from that sea of flames no longer engulfs you. You’ve taken a few paces out of its tender embrace and that windchill is on a steady tract to coerce you back into the fire. This voice is talking sense to you. Protecting you… right? It’s safe in the fire. Why would you ever want to leave it?
“Remember who you are, Iris! Remember who you saved!” You hear another voice, someone different. It’s not loud, competing with the impulses drawing you back to the warmth you know. This voice spells ambiguity and dubiousness. It’s foreign and phantasmal, but you cannot ignore it.
“Step into the flames, child. Warm your weary bones, now.” The louder one grows impatient, punctuating his repeated statement with a commanding order.
“Who is that?” You ask, diverting your attention from the fire. “Why are they calling for me?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He disregards your calling these ephemeral commands into question, insisting you obey. “It’s so unforgiving out there. Stay. With me.”
“I could pinpoint your heartbeat anywhere! Remember who you are, Iris! Remember who you saved!” The voice is repeated, and you can hear it clearly this time, albeit still muted and muffled. That name. It’s all coming back to you now.
“No.” You defy him, speaking for yourself for once. Your identity is reawakened, and the warlock no longer has his hypnotic influence over you. You turn your back on the flames, prepared to embark on the sinister oblivion in front of you. “You once told me that my curse is that I care too much. Well, yours is that you don’t care enough.”
While you were miles away, battling with your inner demons, your body began to move on autopilot. Your docile impression didn’t last long as your demeanor collapsed along with your awareness when the warlock plucked you from the forefront of your own mind. Wrecker has scooped an infirm Hunter up, fleeing with him in his arms as Crosshair, Echo and Tech barrage you with bolts.
“Stop shooting!” Hunter commands from where Wrecker had taken him to safety. “It’s Iris! It’s her!”
They fire repeatedly at you, but it takes no effect. You absorb every single one of their shots and show no signs of injury. Your mind keeps towing the line between sanity and savagery and glimpses of the warlock’s face keep failing your compliant motives to remain under his control. These flashes fuel your aggression and the warlock’s plight becomes clear; his goal was to use you to eliminate your own friends.
You swing your massive arms at them and one by one they either tuck and roll away or they succumb to a hearty blow from your frozen fist. You knock the helmet off of the one closest to you, but he doesn’t let on that he’s afraid. Instead, he scoots away to rest his back against the trunk of a tree. You snarl at him while punching the ground, angered by his hostility. He lifts a sidearm, shakily trying to aim it, but you snatch his wrist and start to raise him to meet your line of sight. The grip you have on his arm is uncompromising and he fights with you tenaciously. Although, it isn’t until you see a tattoo of a scope’s reticle overlaying his right eye that you finally break the chains that weigh you down.
You squint, tilt your head and lean in as close as possible without touching your face to his. His expression is somber, as if he feels he deserves this murderous fate. All fight in him is gone and you realize that you’re the one causing him pain. You look around and see that Hunter is still shivering, Wrecker is holding him close, Echo has been incapacitated following a rough collision with one of your fists and Tech is helping him wake up. Finally, your eyes land on Crosshair who is still caught within your clutches. He’s out of breath and glaring at you like he’s telling you to set him down with his eyes, and for a moment, you can feel that he’s truly unsettled.
Your gruff breaths and amplified voice are night and day compared to your human disposition. You shake your head back and forth, discarding primal golem instincts to let your humanity speak for itself. Crosshair can hear the difference in your inflection, maintaining eye contact as you fully come back to reality. “C-Cross…hair…?”
You enunciate his name slowly. The others hear it, and time practically stops. You set Crosshair down and they watch you move from him to Hunter where Wrecker is keeping him warm. You kneel by their side, offering your hand in companionship despite the prevalent dichotomy of your appearance.
“You’re nothing but a failure!” The warlock appears before you could feel the warm embrace of your friends. “You’re supposed to kill them!”
“It’s the Dark Sorcerer Palpatine!” Wrecker acknowledges, announcing exactly who’s been plaguing them since the beginning. They think proactively, reloading their weapons to fight back but are stopped when you gather them all together, fashioning yourself as a massive shield when you predict what he’s about to do.
The warlock raises his staff and repeats his summoning storm, static filling the space as it did before. He swings it strenuously, channeling every remnant of electricity into this material conduit before flinging all that energy in your direction. You broaden yourself, widening your stance to keep them all out of danger while holding them close. This might have hurt if you were in your human form, but it bears little to no outcome against your golem physique.
Having exhausted his chance to vanquish you, you turn around to face him, recognizing that this is his doing and that he must pay for it. What is better, to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort? At this moment, you’re learning towards the latter when your piercing blue eyes glow twice as bright with ferocity. “I… said… leave them alone!”
The Dark Sorcerer Palpatine stands helpless as you punish him with a monumental strike. He skips across the pond like a stone on water, landing in a pile of his own jaded bones, most of which having been smashed by the force of your punch as he coughs up blood upon the snow. To live in this world takes far more strength than was bestowed upon him. His weakness, his envy, his desire for destruction, that penance paid for with his life. No other innocent beings will suffer under his control as his last breaths break your curse. A phantom. A trickster. Void of honor and accountability. He exploited the tunnels in your eyes and the benevolence in your heart, yet he was not privy to the exemplary principle that heightens all others, your capacity for sacrifice.
Crosshair is the first to throw himself at you, closely followed by Wrecker while the rest lean in. Pieces of this hardened exterior break away and they discard them in order to reach you at the center of a growing crater. You groan with the transition and slowly but surely, you’re free of this arctic cocoon, falling into their arms. Your complexion is pallid and as cold as ice with a discolored bruise over your temple, causing ruptured blood vessels to stain the whites of your eyes. Inspecting some more, they find that you’re gravely wounded and have a limited time before you bleed out.
“Hunter!” You call for him through chopped breaths, still wondering if he’s alright after concluding your own episode. “Where… where is he?”
“I’m right here.” He says, unbothered by his dampened armor and underclothes. They remove you from the pile of rubble and one by one and you make out their faces as clearly as you remember. “We all are.”
“Hunter, she’s hurt severely.” Tech moves more boulders out of the way, and they see the piece of icicle still lodged in your ribcage. Blooming discolorations form along your other appendages, evidence of your fragmented skeleton inflaming your limbs. You’re bordering on hypothermic. You’d be suffering from violent tremors if you weren’t in such a bad way. You don’t want to be unconscious anymore. It’s too scary being alone with your thoughts, fighting the urge to close your heavy eyelids.
Tech moves in close holding an apparatus in hopes to administer a helpful injection of pain relief, but you know how strong that cocktail is. Using your only working hand, you reach for his wrist in a snappy motion like you did Crosshair when he raised his sidearm at you, stopping him from giving it to you. “Please... No… I-I want to stay awake.”
“In order to move you, you have to be still.” Echo says, prying your hand open so you can let go of Tech. “It will hurt far worse otherwise.”
“I don’t care! Get off me! Just don’t put me to sleep!” You beg them, terrified that you’ll see that damned warlock’s face in your dreams.
“Iris stop!” Crosshair steps in. He cradles your face in his hands and speaks to you resolutely, pacifying your agonizing requests by grounding you to his words. “He’s gone, okay? All that’s left is pain. Only pain. Let us handle that for you.”
You catch your breath and slowly agree with his rationale. Crosshair lowers his hands, taking one of yours in his grasp so that Tech can inject you with a tranquilizing sedative. However, before it could be administered, you clarify one last request. “Don’t let go. Please.”
“I won’t. I promise.” With these words, you feel the syringe plunge into your skin, followed by a euphoric nothingness. No ghastly oblivion. No sea of flames. Just complete and utter peace.
You are immediately rushed to the nearest infirmary in the village and Crosshair keeps your hand tightly clamped within his for the entire way. You’re wheeled in on a rickety stretcher, splints attached to three of your misshapen limbs with that icicle still embedded in your torso. The operation took hours, your life was spared, and you woke up with all five of your beloved friends at your bedside.
“How did you know it was me?” You ask through a tired groan, tucked in with your head wrapped in gauze while dizzy with painkillers.
“I didn’t at first, but it wasn’t hard to put two and two together when you suspiciously went missing the same time an ice golem began to terrorize the locals. Although, when I heard your heart,” Hunter pauses to chuckle, amused with himself for being able to pinpoint this poignant detail about you. “I just knew.”
“You guys saved me.” A tear streams down your cheek as your voice gets caught in your throat.
“No, you saved us first.” Wrecker articulates, not letting you forfeit the glory for such a selfless act. “That was a clever trick you did in the cave. We should have guessed right then that you were behind that glass wall!”
“I’m sorry I ditched you guys to look for that little girl - who didn’t even exist to begin with.”
“It happens to the best of us.” Echo smiles warmly at you when he sees that you were just doing what you thought was right.
“You’re here now. Lesson learned.” Tech declares confidently. The uplifting tone of this reunion shifts when Crosshair steps forward.
“It would have been a shame if you died.” The dry delivery of his words almost makes you cackle, but the pain from your ribs stops you short.
“Hahaha! Ow! Ooh-oh… Don’t make me laugh.” You tell him while breathing through the discomfort.
“I’m not joking.” He can’t bring himself to repeat what he said at the start of all this, a momentary quaver of his chin tells you he’s ashamed by it, so you reach for his hand to hold this time. He has never known a silence like when you were gone. His future darkened in a single instant, yet he takes the loathsome route of thinking it’s easier to blame himself for what was done to you, as if he spoke your curse into existence himself. No other words need to be spoken as every shred of liability fades with your brightly emerging smile, proudly showing them your impervious spirit, unshaken.
