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blooming-violets · 3 months

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CREATURE LIKE ME || CHAPTER SEVEN: MURDERER

[TASM Peter Parker!Werewolf AU]

Story Summary: Kraven and his guild of hunters have been tracking and quelling the werewolf population for centuries. The time has come for Aylin to complete her first solo hunt to prove herself to the guild. It was supposed to be simple. One wolf, one death, one victory. She never expected to end up with a secret hostage on her hands.

Chapter Seven Warnings (spoilers): this chapter contains a SA scene and a depiction of a murder

[link to chapter index]

Aylin leaned her shoulder against the stone wall and watched with a placid detachment as Kraven carried the naked wolf girl over to the table. He laid her limp body down with a sort of tenderness Aylin wasn’t used to seeing from him. The wolf girl’s eyes remained closed. Though, her dark, wet lashes clumped together as if she had been silently crying only moments ago. Through the thick layers of dirt and caked over blood, her body was painted with a myriad of scars. Old and new. Knife slices, whip slashings, bruises, bite marks. Aylin could make constellations out of the red marks of abuse hidden among her black and purple galaxy skin. Whatever she had experienced down here, the wolf girl had experienced much, much worse.

Her death was the last piece of the puzzle for Aylin to gain her freedom

Her life would amount to nothing more than a final sacrifice. One life traded for another. Her death meant Aylin could live again.

And Aylin didn’t even know the girl’s name.

Kraven took a step back from the table and observed the young girl with a quiet contemplation, “Don’t ever mention this to Calypso but I think I’ve grown a bit fond of the wolf. She was a fierce fighter for being such a little thing but, alas, everyone gets broken in the end. Look at her now. Wasted away to nothing. Her blood has served me well. Even now, it still courses through my system. They only last a few hours inside of you depending on how much you drink before the effects start to wear off. I tell you, it’s like a power you’ve never felt in all your life, Aylin. Truly an addicting substance. It’s no wonder the wolves fight so hard to stay alive. They must feel incredible all the time.” He paused to glance down at the girl, rethinking his statement. “Well, not all the time.”

Aylin pushed herself off the wall and padded over to where he stood. Each step shot an agonizing, fiery pain up her thigh. She had to position her legs further apart than usual so her thighs didn’t rub together. Even with Calypso’s special salve covering her brand, it still seared red hot and angry.

“Why are you telling me this?” She muttered, standing at his side. “What you and Calypso are doing is a direct betrayal to the guild. You’re consuming the blood of the enemy. You’re drinking wolf blood. Does that make you a werewolf, too? Are you one of them now?”

The guild had no prior knowledge on how Lycan were made as far as she knew. Wolves kept their secrets close to their chest but the Colt’s always assumed it had something to do with consuming their blood. Peter only mentioned that a person could be turned or born into it. He never stated how that transformation took place. It seemed like blood would be a key factor in it, though.

Kraven gave her a side eye and shrugged, “Who are you going to tell? You’ve been branded with the Kravinoff emblem. You’re one of mine now. If I go down, you go down.”

Kravinoff emblem. This symbol of the sun belonged to the entire Silver Colt guild. It wasn’t something only for him to claim. Her mother wore a golden sun pendant around her neck. Her father had it tattooed on his shoulder. She had it embroidered into her hunting jacket. That didn’t mean they were all claimed by Kraven. The sun united them together against the moon worshiping Lycan. It didn’t claim them. Her brand meant nothing to her except a physical reminder that she lived a lifetime of lies. Her sun, charred into her skin like a farmer’s cattle, did not signify anything other than a sun. She gave it no power over her. No matter who manipulated her body, her mind would never belong to anyone but herself.

Unless he managed to sever what little grasps of sanity she was still desperately clinging to down here.

“We’re not werewolves,” he stated. “Neither Cal nor I have experienced any change besides feeling stronger and more youthful than usual. We’re not one of them. We’re just enhancing our bodies to be better hunters. Clearly, blood isn’t what transforms a person. We were wrong in our assumptions.”

The Silver Colts were wrong about a lot of things.

The broken, naked wolf girl laying half unconscious in front of them was one of those things.

They were two abused, degraded women confined to a torture chamber with a hot-headed narcissist and his psychopathic wife. It didn’t matter where either of the girls originally came from, only that they ended up in the same place, at the same time. While one’s story was going to end in this room, the other’s was just about to begin.

Aylin stepped forward when she noticed the girl shivering. She had no comfort to offer her, no blanket, or clothes for warmth. All she had was herself. Aylin placed a hand over the girl’s forehead and gently stroked it over her hair like her mother used to do for her when she was ill. She could tell the girl had a high fever from the heat radiating from her skin and the cool, clammy sweat clinging to her forehead. Her body was starting to shut down.

"Give me your shall, Sergei,” she demanded.

Kraven shrugged it off and passed it over. Ever since he branded her, he’d been much more compliant to her wants. It seems she had him fooled. When he told her she would want for nothing if she agreed to his terms, she didn’t think it would happen so quickly. As long as he still believed she would give her body over to him, he seemed to adhere to her.

Aylin draped the Lycan shall over the girl’s torso. She was so petite that it nearly reached from her shoulders to her ankles. Aylin rubbed her hands down the girl’s arms to help warm the chill in her bones. She hoped that maybe the feel of Lycan fur against her skin might be of some comfort to her. She was so out of it that Aylin hoped she wouldn’t take much notice of the morbidity of the pelt.

“You’ll be home soon,” she leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You’ll be welcomed home by the ones you love. Think of your mother. Your father. Anyone who brings you comfort. Imagine their faces smiling back at you. They love you so much and they’re so excited to see you again. Your pain is all gone. It’s all over. You did so well. You were so strong but now it’s time to rest. You’re ready to go home.”

The wolf girl gave a quiet moan, her brows scrunched together, and then relaxed as a small smile graced her chapped lips. It wasn’t much but it’s what Aylin would have wanted to imagine as her last thoughts on this plane of existence. She’d want to be thinking of the people she loved most in her world. In times like these, she missed her big brother. He would have noticed she was missing. He would have come searching for her. She wondered what Emir’s last thoughts were as the bullet lodged into him and blood poured from his stomach. She wondered if he thought of her or their mother right before the wolf’s teeth sunk into his flesh.

Peter’s teeth.

She couldn’t think about that. She had to push that thought away. All this time she had been searching for reasons to hate him to make killing him easier. Here it was. Right in front of her. The perfect answer to all her problems. And, still, she couldn’t find a single ounce of hate left in heart to aim at him. He was too soft. Gentle. Caring. Sad. Those big, grief-stricken solid brown eyes.

She didn’t hate him anymore than she hated the girl in front of her.

Aylin could feel Kraven’s stare burning a hole in the back of her skull but she refused to turn around. This was between her and the girl. If she was going to kill her, she was going to do it her way. Her freedom came with a heavy price and she wasn’t going to pay it lightly.

“What’s your name?” She whispered down to the girl.

The wolf mumbled out some pained, unintelligible sounds. Her dulling emerald eyes cracked open into tiny slits to look up at her.

“Stop delaying the inevitable,” she croaked out. “My name will not save me. You don’t deserve to know it. It’s all I have left that is mine and only mine. I’ll take it to my grave.”

She was right. Her name would not save her but it would soothe a piece of Aylin’s frantic mind. It would give the girl an identity she could hold onto after her death. A name to remember her by when she thought of her in the future. She would not have to be the nameless Lycan ruthlessly slaughtered at her hands. She was also correct in saying that Aylin didn’t deserve to know. Knowing that bit of personal information would only be used to serve Aylin, not the girl. She would be dead whether Aylin knew it or not. She didn’t care how her memory stuck around with a Silver Colt. She had the right to keep the last of her secrets even if it left a heavy weight of guilt and unsolved answers on Aylin’s mind.

She reached her hand behind her back, “Give me your dagger, Sergei. Let’s finish this.”

She felt the hilt press into her hands.

“I don’t want blood all over my sh-” Kraven started to speak but Aylin cut him off.

“It will wash out.”

She was hyper focused, zeroing in, on where she assumed the forever nameless wolf girl’s heart was under her chest. She wanted to be as precise and quick as she could to make it as painless as possible.

This was going to happen. She was going to take her life. Right here. Right now. It was suddenly too real.

Aylin’s vision blurred but she fought off the tears. In another world, it could have been Peter laying here, half dead, with her dagger raised above his chest. This was what he wanted from her. He wanted her face to be the last he saw. He wanted this death at her hands. In another world, she would have never hesitated. Now, she couldn’t see past the haze of tears clouding her sight. The lump in her throat grew heavier with each passing second.

All she wanted was to go home.

“Once I do this, I can go?” She asked, her voice thick with heartbreak, seeking assurance that this won’t all be for nothing. “I get to walk out of here and go back home to my mom?”

Kraven paused for a beat too long. His silence was deafening.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as all the alarm bells started ringing in her head, “Sergei? Answer me.”

When she got no response, Aylin whipped around to face him, overcome with dizziness at how fast she spun. Whatever numbing drugs were in that tea earlier had all worn off. She could feel every twinge of pain branching out through her entire body. Her knees felt weak like they were struggling to hold her own weight. Her rapid heartbeat sent shockwaves of anxiety penetrating through her chest. Kraven’s dark eyes bore into her with a look that told her all she needed to know.

She was not going home.

Ever.

“After you complete the ritual, I will bring you upstairs. I will bathe you, Calypso will reclean your wounds, and then I will bring you to bed to rest for the remainder of the night. While there, I will have you tied. You are not to be fully trusted. Not yet. You will not experience this basement again, as long as you behave, but you will not have the freedom you seek. You are mine now, Aylin. You made a promise to me. We will care for you, treat you kindly, but you will not leave until your deal is done. You have promises to keep and debts to fulfill.”

There was no freedom in her future. She was still a prisoner. She was naive to think she’d ever be anything other than that after experiencing this basement. This was going to break her mother. She wouldn’t ever be able to understand the weight of what Aylin did to get in this position. She would never understand where her daughter went or why she disappeared. Peter would think she abandoned him. He’d think she chose her guild over him. He’d never know just how alike they really were or how much comfort the memories of him brought her down here. He’d never know how much she fought just to keep him safe. She trimmed off parts of her soul for him and she’d only be remembered as another disappointment in his life. All the pain she suffered through was for nothing. All hope was lost as the reality of her situation took over.

A single tear slipped through her tight hold to carve a path down her bruised cheek.

She swallowed at the lump in her throat threatening to send her into hysterics. She was so weak, in so much pain, and so tired that her willpower to keep upright was draining. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep it from quivering and turned around to face the girl.

Her death would truly mean nothing when there was no hope left to be had. There was no escape in sight.

Aylin wished they could trade places. Death was better than what Kraven had in store for her. She wished she was the one on the table instead, waiting for the dagger to hit, waiting for it all to end. Death was the only escape from Kraven. The girl had helped to grow her fire and give her hope when Aylin was at her lowest. Now, there was only darkness. For both of them.

Give ‘em hell.

The time for hell giving had passed. She had missed her shot. Even with Kraven’s dagger clutched tightly in her hand, she knew she couldn’t overpower him. The drugs had worn off. She could hardly hold her own arm above her head. Her shoulder muscles trembled as she wrapped both hands around the hilt and hovered it over the wolf girl’s chest.

At least she could end the girl’s misery before Aylin’s own life was lost to Kraven. She’d be a murderer but at least the girl wouldn’t have to suffer any further at the hands of a Silver Colt.

She could have the freedom Aylin dreamed of.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed, mostly as an apology for herself since the girl’s eyes were closed.

I’m sorry it had to be this way. I’m sorry I was a part of a life that caused you so much suffering. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to get either of us out. I’m sorry it was all for nothing.

A massive portion of her carved up soul would be shed with this futile murder.

She wasn’t sure how much soul she had left to hand over.

Kraven placed a steading hand against Aylin’s hip, “We’ve wanted her dead for some time but something about having her blood in our system made it impossible to kill her ourselves. It was like that with Parker, too, all those years ago. Like it’s their last defense against death. We figured we might as well keep her around until someone took care of it for us. Your failed solo hunt was a perfect opportunity for that. Or so we thought.” He grazed his nails up her side as he molded his pelvis against her bottom. “All will be set right soon enough. Pierce down with enough force to break through her sternum then use the curve of the dagger to pull downwards towards her stomach and rip her open.”

Aylin could feel his cock twitching against her ass as he spoke. He was getting off on the thought of mutilation. She let her hatred for him blaze through her and push out the hopeless numbing that had taken hold. He ruined her life. He had a hand in her every move even before her own conception. He had lied and manipulated and murdered and tortured until he got what he wanted.

Well, he did it. He got his prize. Here she was, branded and claimed by him, doing exactly what he wanted like his obedient, little pet. She’d kill for him. She’d spread her legs for him. She’d birth his children. She’d lose every bit left of herself because he gave her no other options. Groomed until she was nothing but a shadow of who she once was. She wasn’t just killing the wolf girl today. She was killing herself along with her.

Aylin steadied her shaking breath and closed her eyes. She mentally placed herself on the table instead. She looked down into her own hazel eyes and hated the woman she saw staring back. Her hair was clean and waved around her soft, rounded cheeks. There was no blood or bruising painting her skin, only an air of innocence written all over her face that she no longer recognized. There was sadness and grief too but nothing like the hollow emptiness she felt now. This was the woman she was before she left on her solo hunt. This was the woman who she had been before she found Peter and learned the truth. A woman kept in the dark and living a life of lies.

She could never be this woman again. She could never go back. That Aylin was gone. Forever.

With a rage driven, exasperated, feral scream ripping from her throat, she drove the dagger straight down with every bit of declining strength she had left in her body. Her stab landed true. The wolf girl never even opened her eyes to watch the incoming blow. She never cried out in pain. Her body simply jerked into itself at the sudden attack but quickly collapsed, listlessly, back against the table.

A spray of warm blood splashed against Aylin’s face. It splattered across her clenched mouth. Without thinking, she instinctively licked at her lips to remove it, tasting the copper there. She stumbled backwards into Kraven in shock. Her legs gave out. She collapsed onto the floor. She couldn’t finish the job. Not yet. She was too weak. It had taken everything she had in her to make sure she killed the girl with a single strike. Her body was failing her as the adrenaline flooded through her veins. The clotting wounds on her back ripped open. Her blistering thigh rubbed with a searing fire against her other leg. A flash of horrified agony ricocheted through her body. She was unsure if the pain was physical or mental.

It didn’t matter.

The wolf girl was dead. Aylin was dead. She had killed them both.

Murderer.

Kraven was crouched by Aylin’s side. He was scooping her limp form into his lap as he sat on the floor. His hands were all over her. Grabbing at her ass. Groping her chest. Pushing against the thin fabric protecting between her thighs. Pulling back her underwear to probe his finger inside of her. His tongue was bathing over her blood splattered lips. Lapping it up. Licking along the blood on her cheeks. Pushing his blood stained tongue back into her mouth to forcefully tangle with hers. She could taste the metallic as it mixed with the salt from her flowing tears. She couldn’t move to stop the assault on her body. Her hands were shaking as she openly sobbed, losing all control, while he molested her.

He was moaning into her mouth, “You look so sexy covered in blood. I’m doing everything in my power not to fuck you over the table but you need to finish what you started. Soon…soon…I can have you soon.”

He was collecting her in his arms and pushing them to a stand as the basement spun around her. She couldn’t catch her breath as the whirlwind of spiraling emotions overtook her. Her vision fuzzed black around the edges. She felt like she might vomit except there was no food in her stomach to bring up. All that was there was the taste of acid burning up her throat.

Kraven steadied her in front of the dead wolf girl, holding her upright by clutching onto her hips. There was a desperation of longing in his voice, “Now finish the job. Get her heart. Throw it in the fire. And we can finally put this behind us.”

She could never put this behind her. She would never shed herself from this guilt.

Murderer.

Aylin stared down at the dagger sticking from the wolf girl’s chest. Dark, fresh blood soaked over her small breasts and trickled in thick, slow lines down her side to pool over the table and sink into the cracks in the wood. There was no name to remember her by. Nothing to memorialize her with. There would be no loved ones to mourn for her. No happy memories shared between old friends. No last goodbyes. They would burn her body until there was nothing left but the polluted memories Aylin held. She was gone with nothing to show for her sacrifice.

Peter was right about the Silver Colts.

They were a bunch of violent murders. She included herself in that group. She deserved everything Kraven did to her. She deserved to be punished for her crimes.

Her slack hands were being placed back on the hilt of the bloody dagger by Kraven. He wanted her to finish this quickly so he could get to fucking her.

She couldn’t move anymore. She was only remaining upright because his arm was wrapped around her waist. Everything about her was limp.

“I know you’re weak but just a little more. We’re almost done. I’ll help guide yo-”

He was cut off by an ear splitting shriek from upstairs.

They both froze and whipped their heads towards the sound.

“Sergei!” Calypso was shouting. There was fear evident in her voice. It was an unusual, alarming sound to hear from her. From the look on Kraven’s face, it was one he didn’t hear often. They listened to her hurried footsteps banging above their heads as she ran towards the bookcase door to throw it open. “We’re under attack! Fire!”

His brows furrowed with confusion and he pulled away from Aylin, “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She tumbled against the table, holding herself upright with her forearms, and watched as he leaped up the stairs and disappeared from view.

A hushed, breathless silence fell over the basement.

Aylin stared down at the wolf girl then back to the stairs. She was alone. Uncuffed.

Her heart leapt with a sense of hope she thought was long lost.

She could hear a frenzied commotion happening above her. Lots of bewildered shouting. Lots of stomping footsteps back and forth.

Aylin pushed herself up and away from the table. She took a few stumbling steps towards the stairs before collapsing at the bottom. Her knees cracked against the concrete floor but she was shocked to find that there was hardly any pain as her bones made contact with the hard surface. She stretched out her back, waiting to feel the terrible sting of her wounds, but felt merely a light tickle.

Her breath began to grow rapidly as a wave of warmth spread throughout her veins. She could feel the liquid fire traveling down her arms and into her finger tips. It spread throughout her chest and coursed down her legs as it consumed her entire body in its bathing glow. Aylin squeezed her eyes shut then reopened them, searching around the basement as if she was taking in an entirely new sight. What was once dark, damp, and dreary was now exploding with colors she never noticed before. She could make out each varied speckle of gray and brown and tan in the cobblestone walls. The light from the still burning fire raged in beautiful hues of deep orange and vibrant yellows. Light danced across each surface like a delicate ballet for her eyes to savor.

A strength flowed through her. A power unlike any she’d ever felt. Aylin had never been a weak person apart from when she’d been tortured into submission. She had always been physically strong and capable. But this…this was different. This was an inhuman type of strength. Something was happening to her body. A change was taking over.

She stared down at her bloodied hands in front of her, able to make out every line of her skin with a rapidly improving vision. She focused in on the different tints of red, some dark, some lighter, that stained her fingers. It wasn’t her blood. It was the wolf girl’s.

Lycan blood.

Aylin’s eyes widened as she staggered to her feet. She had tasted Lycan blood. It had only been a few drops but clearly that was enough for it to have an effect. It was morphing the very fabric of her being with each passing second that ticked by. Her strength returned to her in a way she never thought possible.

The unmistakable smell of smoke reached her nose to drag her attention away from her shocking, new developments. Her sight darted up the stairs. The bookcase had been left open. Thick, gray and black smoke was starting to billow through the door and creep along the ceiling down the stairs. She could hear the blaze of roaring fire as clearly as if it was in the room with her. She could hear Kraven and Calypso moving in a panic above her. The accuracy of her acute hearing allowed her to place them directly in the kitchen. They were distracted.

This was her one chance.

Aylin paused for only a moment to take one last look at the Lycan girl, nodding her head in her direction as a silent sign of respect, before she darted up the stairs with a remarkable agility for someone who could hardly stand only moments ago. The last gift the girl had given her was that of her blood. It was a gift she would not waste. She would get out of this hell. She would regain back control. She would enact revenge on both their behalf. The Lycan would not die in vain. Aylin would make sure her death was not wasted.

She burst across the Kravinoff hallway, emerging from the basement like a gazelle escaping a lion. Her elbow slammed into the opposite wall to break her stride. She wasn’t used to being able to run this fast. Her body surged with power and speed. It electrified her skin. Vibrant colors flashed across her vision, swirling around her, as she stumbled down the hallway. She could hear every panicked breath the couple took in the room beside her. The heavier, deeper one was Kraven’s, panting in anger, as he tried to douse the growing flames. The lighter, more birdlike breathes were Calypso, desperately spraying water from the kitchen sink hose. She could hear their every breath even over the sounds of the roaring fire. Through sound alone she could visualize the fire crawling up the kitchen curtains and licking at their house made of wood. If they weren’t fast, it would quickly eat up everything in its path. Smoke rolled out into the hallway and slithered with thick layers of black over her head. She crouched down to keep under it. Whatever had started the fire had been her saving grace. She may have killed off her old self in that basement but she would be reborn again thanks to the flames. A phoenix emerging from the ashes.

Aylin made her way down the hall with a near silent stealth in the opposite direction of the kitchen fire until she landed at their backdoor. All it took was a quick switch of the lock for the door to push open.

She leapt into the chilly night air and broke out into a sprint back towards her house.

Running for her life.

Running for her freedom.

Her lungs expanded and filled as she drew gulps of air into them. It tasted sweeter than honey. The night had never looked so bright like she was gifted with her own personal night vision. She would have guessed it was morning if it weren’t for the explosion of stars plastered in the sky through the treetops. They were brighter than ever before as she neared a clearing in the overhead branches. Beautiful. Stunning. She could have been looking at a photograph straight from the Webb Space Telescope. The sight was so mesmerizing, her frantic sprint slowed to a light jog. She couldn’t pull her eyes from the vibrant milky way splitting across the sky.

She could stare at its hypnotic beauty for hours.

The sounds of screams drew her back down to planet Earth. Her head darted around to search through the woods for the alarms. Through the trees she caught sight of another blazing fire down the dirt road from Kraven’s cabin. Behind that fire was another breaking out. Three different houses were ablaze. Distraught shrieks of chaos erupted in their little town. She could hear people running into the woods, running towards the destruction, all trying to extinguish the flames before their entire forest went up like a box of tinder. The Silver Colts were under attack. This was no accident. Those fires were intentional. They were being targeted. Houses were being set to burn while everyone slept.

Her newly eagle eyed vision set straight towards her own home. They lived on the outer edge of town. It was quiet and dark in that direction. Her mother would still be safe. Aylin left the chaos behind her and sprinted, barefoot and nearly naked, through the forest towards her chance at freedom.

The mossy ground under foot hardly touched her soles before she was pushing off again. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Her hair blew out from behind her like a cape as she took flight. She sprinted like her life depended on it. She ran from that basement with every ounce of strength the Lycan blood allowed her to have. Every smell consumed her, every breath felt like ice in her lungs, every sight swirled in pools of color around her until she no longer felt human.

The spirit of the wolf soared beside her and carried her in record time to the one place she thought she might never see again.

Her charming, humble cabin with its peeling, painted brown wood and faded, white trimmed windows. It had never looked so perfect, so dreamy, so inviting in her life. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she jogged towards her safe haven. Pine needles softened her tread under her bare feet to welcome her home.

She slammed open the front door, accidentally ripping it from its hinges, and stumbled inside. She was drunk from the overwhelming power flooding her body.

“Mom!” She screamed into the quiet house. “Mom! Wake up! We have to go! We have to get out!

A small, black shadow darted out from under the couch and past her ankles in reaction to her cries. She jumped back with a shocked yelp, ready to pounce and attack the intruder until her sights settled on the frightened cat lurking under a table leg and eyeing her suspiciously.

“Fuck, Kedi. Scared the shit outta me. Fuckin’ cat,” she mumbled, holding her hand over her chest.

Her breath was catching in her throat. Her heart was racing. She was finding it harder and harder to breathe the longer she stood still. Her body needed to run. Move. Jump. Climb. Fight. Anything. Her emotions all tumbled together along with every new smell. She could smell the sweet scent of lavender vanilla from her mother’s body lotion clinging to every surface. She could smell Kedi’s dander in his fur. She could smell the spinach and feta filled gözleme her mother had eaten for dinner still lingering in the air even though hours had passed since it was last cooked.

“Mom!”

The sound of her own voice was too shrill in her ears. She could hear a battering ram chorus of moth wings hitting against the porch light. Every pur rumbling inside Kedi’s chest, as he slinked out from under the table to rubbed his side across her legs, vibrated in her own head. Her heart beat was thumping in her ears at an unnaturally rapid pace.

“Mom! Wake up! We have to…have to…go…”

It was too loud. Her skull was cracking under the pressure of her own voice. The smells were making her dizzy. Colors blurred together and swirled in front of her spinning eyes.

Aylin stumbled through the living room towards her mother’s bedroom door, shoving it open, and collapsing onto the cold, hardwood floor.

Her bed was empty. The sheets were pulled back and tossed to the side like she had run from a sound sleep. Her slippers and robe were missing. She must have heard the commotion in the village. She must have heard the fires and gone to help.

Except that Aylin would have met her along the way. She would have seen her running in the opposite direction.

Something wasn’t right.

Aylin’s breath was picking up speed into quick, short bursts. Her knees and forearms dug into the wood under her as she pressed her throbbing forehead down to the floor. Her entire world was shifting, tilting back and forth, until she felt like she couldn’t hold on any longer. What was left of her fingernails, clawed into the wood in a desperate attempt to try and keep her balance.

There was too much stimulation piling on and suffocating her from every angle. There was no place she was safe, nowhere to hide, when it was her own body fighting against her.

She clasped her palms tightly over her ears and let out a deafening shriek, curling tighter into herself, and begging for it all to be over.

An arm snaked around her neck and a warm, strong hand tightened over her mouth to silence her.

Her eyes shot open. She could hear everything but she couldn’t hear her attacker approaching. In an instant, she scrambled out of the hold, flailing onto her back, to violently kick up at her assailant.

Kraven had found her. He was going to drag her back. He was going to hurt her. He was going to-

Peter caught her ankle in his grasp before she could make contact with his chest and lunged on top of her. He pinned her to the ground, hand covering her mouth to keep her from screaming, and fastened his knees over her arms as he sat on her chest to stop her from striking him.

“Shut up,” he hissed. “It’s just me.”

Aylin blinked up at him in confusion. All her senses that had been launched into overdrive, redirected themselves onto him instead. The edges of his outline waved in front of her bloodshot eyes but his face was as clear as it could get. His chocolate brown eyes had always seemed so dark and solid of color to her before. Now, they were flecked with specks of lighter caramels and circled his pupils with a honeyed bronze. They were nearly as bewitching as staring into the night sky.

Her lips parted as she stared, wide eyed, up at him. Frozen in place. Mesmerized by the details of his face. His thick eyebrows raised in confusion. The way his nose dipped into a perfect slope. His succulent bottom lip peeking out from under his scraggly mustache. Every freckle over his tanned skin and every soft hair on his head was crafted with a transcended beauty.

He was back.

He was still here.

He hadn’t left her.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” he hurried her. “We have to get out of here. We have to-” He paused as he focused down on her face. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head ‘no’, still unable to pull her attention away from his eyes. They were like a cup of steaming hot coffee on a cold, rainy morning. Comforting and safe. If she dared to look away, the overwhelming senses would flood her again. He was her anchor keeping her from getting lost in the thrashing waves.

“Your pupils are blown out. Your heart is racing. I can smell the adrenaline sweating out of you. Your skin is on fire,” he rolled off of her in horror, taking in the sight of her injuries and dried blood, slowly connecting the dots, “You look like…are you…”

“Lycan blood,” she breathed. “I can feel everything and nothing at all. I’m falling and flying at the same time. I’m broken and whole. My brain is on fire. I feel like…like….’m gonna…”

“Have a heart attack? Because that’s exactly what’s about to happen,” he hissed through worried, clenched teeth. “Your heart is about to explode if you don’t calm yourself. Not everyone is built to handle wolf blood, Aylin. It’s going to kill you if you can’t calm down.”

Her skin was tingling and breaking out a cold sweat. An uncomfortable, squeezing pressure gripped at her chest as her heart raced. Her breath felt constricted in her throat. Waves of panic rocked over her.

Kraven was going to find her.

Her mother was missing.

She killed the Lycan girl.

Murderer.

“Peter,” she whimpered. “‘M don’ feel good.”

“Fuck,” his distressed eyes darted around the room before landing back on her paling face. “Okay. I need you to listen to me, Aylin. You need to calm your body. You over stressed yourself. Pushed yourself too far. I’m gonna sit ya up, ‘kay?”

He wrapped a protective arm behind her neck to avoid the wraps covering her back and helped her into a sitting position. He carefully leaned her back against her mother’s bed. He knelt down between her open legs and gently grasped her face in his large hands, covering her ears to help muffle the overpowering noises hitting her from every direction.

“Follow my breaths,” he whispered. Even with her ears covered, she could still hear him perfectly. “Breathe with me.”

Peter pressed his forehead against her sweat drenched one, locking his eyes with her, as he demonstrated taking a deep, long breath. She held onto the intoxicating color of his eyes like a drowning person clings to a life preserve and followed his lead.

Deep inhale for four seconds. Hold it for seven. Exhale for eight.

Repeat.

Inhale. Four. Hold it. Seven. Exhale. Eight.

Peter continued the process until the sounds of her pounding heart started to slow back to a normal rhythm. The adrenaline leaving her body caused her to slump over with her cheek resting on the cool floor as he gently released her from his hold. She curled herself into the fetal position.

The weight of Peter’s heavy hand, his palm pressing against her forehead, feeling her temperature, gave her the tiniest warmth of comfort. She let her eyes close and leaned into his touch. He would protect her. If Kraven came calling, he would keep her safe.

He belonged to her. That’s what she had told him right before she dragged him from his confinement. Peter Parker was hers. She was safe with her Lycan but he wasn’t safe in the Silver Colts territory. They had to leave before the fires were put out. They had to get out before Kraven noticed her missing. Their time here was limited.

The fight was leaving her body. She felt like her entire soul was draining out of her pores as exhaustion replaced the adrenaline.

“I have to find my mom,” she muttered through sleepy breaths. “I have to get us out of here.”

He swallowed, his attention flashing between his concern for her wellbeing and keeping an attentive eye on what was happening outside of the cabin, “I think the Lycan blood is leaving your system. Your heart has calmed down. You’re going to be okay. The worst of it is over but you’re going to crash once it’s completely gone. It’ll suck out every last bit of energy you have left. I have to get you out of here before you’re out cold.”

He wasn’t listening to what she was saying.

“My mom-”

“How much blood did you get?” He asked, interrupting her.

“Jus’ a drop or two,” she murmured. “Peter. My mom. Hafta find her. Gotta get’us out. All of us.”

“Well, she’s not here, is she? We can’t go looking for her or wait for her to come back! There’s no time!” He shot angrily in her direction. He pushed himself up to his feet and paced anxiously around the room. “Where are your car keys?”

Aylin tried to lift her head off the floor but was overcome with a nauseating dizziness.

“Left ‘em on the table on the porch before…before…he…”

She let her words trail off, unable to finish her sentence.

Peter darted from the bedroom in search of the keys. She groaned. He wasn’t listening. He wasn’t going to look for her mother. He couldn’t be seen out there. She couldn’t be seen here. There was no time. Nesrin would have to find her own way out but she knew nothing of the true horrors lying under the surface of this guild.

Aylin pushed herself onto shaky legs. She clutched onto her mother’s mattress as the room spun. Her eyes squeezed shut until she was able to steady her vision once more. When her eyes reopened, they focused in on Kedi sitting quietly on the mattress in front of her, gazing at her curiously with wide, amber eyes. He got up and headbuttted the top of his head into her arm as if willing her to keep moving.

“Thanks, bud,” she whispered down to him. “‘M okay. I’ll be okay. Jus’ hafta go away for a little while. I got’ta warn mom.”

She gathered what was left of her strength to shuffle towards the door and out into their small kitchen. Through the smudged, glass window over their sink, she could see out into the dark forest. Her sight wasn’t as vivid as had it been when she first ran from the basement. It was already settling back to its normal state. A blazing fire in the far distance illuminated through the dark trees. There was only one now. She couldn’t tell who’s house it belonged to but, whoever it was, there wouldn’t be much left once it burned out. The entire village would be focused on helping their neighbors but, once the fire was under control, they would be out for blood. A hunt like never before would begin. The village had never been directly attacked like this before. The Silver Colts would not take this lightly. Her and Peter needed to be as far away as possible. Any Lycan within the area, or anyone seen conspiring with one, would have their head on a spike. Literally.

She wondered if it was Peter who started those fires.

It must have been.

With a surge of unmistakable devotion, Aylin reached for the empty grocery notepad left hanging on the refrigerator. She grabbed a pen from the kitchen drawer and scribbled a quick note.

“Take dad’s truck and get out. Don’t speak to anyone. Trust no one. Pack as little as possible and run as fast as you can. Go to a hotel. Somewhere with people. Not safe here. I love you. I’ll find you again soon. -A”

Peter had saved her. He had given her a way to escape. He had taken her from the clutches of her prison just like she had done for him. He did not abandon her and showed up when she needed him most. Her infatuation for him was growing.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he didn’t belong to her. They belonged to each other.

Aylin took a step away from the note and stumbled backward. The pain was starting to return. She was so tired. So broken. Her legs couldn’t hold her up any longer. Everything was draining just like Peter said.

Her sight blackened around the edges as her knees gave out.

Before she could hit the kitchen floor, Peter wrapped her up in his muscular arms. The last thing she felt was the feeling of safety as he cradled her to his chest, his voice echoing in her drifting mind.

“I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

[CHAPTER EIGHT]

Tag List Requirements: 🌒A reblog of this chapter will automatically put you onto the next chapter tag list. If you no longer wish to be put on the next list, simply don’t reblog this chapter. The list is updated with every chapter depending on who reblogged.🌔

TagList: @theorgansarerotting @sincericida @moonyslove78 @lazyxsquirrel @101maverick

A/N: Please remember that writers love to listen to every tiny, little thought you’ve had about their work. If you liked something in particular, let us know! We love to hear it!

#andrew garfield #andrew garfield fanfiction #andrew garfield fic #andrew garfield peter parker #tasm #tasm fic #tasm fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tasm au #the amazing spiderman #creature like me #creature like me chapter seven #blooming violets fic #blooming violets

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eidingate · 2 months

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B A S I C S

Name Eidin Kupfohcwin Nicknames Probably more than she remembers. Eid to some, Little Fox to family friends. Age Turning 34 right before Dawntrail Nameday 32nd Sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon (RIP to her parents hoping she would be delayed one more day to be born a under the nice steady month of Byregot rather than the capricious month of Oschon) Race Sea Wolf Roegadyn Gender Cis female? More likely genderfluid Orientation Bisexual Profession Part-time Warrior of Light, full-time menace against the Empire, occasional craftsperson.

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair Turquoise with golden highlights, reminiscent of oxidized copper. Currently worn short with a metric ton of pomade keeping it styled. Eyes Marigold orange Skin Pale turquoise green Tattoos/scars Hands are heavily scarred with nicks and burns from reaching into still-hot magitek machines. She's definitely earned some more significant scars over the years across her back and torso. What tattoos she has are strategically hidden, but one is a jackdaw, representing her family.

F A M I L Y

Parents Wintgeim - Mother. A mechanic and former sky pirate. She leads a band of roving magitek scavengers, the Winter Jackdaws. She has a big, fierce personality and is strongly protective of her little band. Kupfohc - Father. A Sharlayan scholar who hired her mother as a guide while he investigated the environmental effects of magitek around Ilsabard and wound up never returning to his studies. He's a gentle soul with a love of music. He was basically disowned when he chose not to return to Sharlayan. Siblings Thuvwilt - Older brother Fraeswys - Younger sister Grandparents Opylona - Grandmother. She basically raised Eidin and her siblings when they were too young to go on scavenging jobs with their parents. In-laws and Other Her mother's scavenger band is her wider family -- some by blood and many others not. Not surprisingly, this ambiguous style of adoptive family has translated into her adopting the Scions as well. Pets Sadly she never stays anywhere long enough to want the responsibility of pets long-term, but she falls in love with many friends' pets and spoils them rotten.

S K I L L S

Abilities In combat, Eidin's skills lie in dancing around the edges of the battlefield before delivering quick, precise strikes. She is master of all physical ranged weaponry, but often turns to the Red Mage foil for its versatility. She is constantly on the move, weaving in and out of range of the enemy and scanning for weaknesses. Out of combat, she dumped all her stats into charisma. She's adaptable to different groups of people of various cultures, high class and low. She's quick to gain people's trust, and trades often in favors. She dabbles in new skills wherever she can, making her very much a jack-of-all-trades, but rarely sticks with anything for long. Hobbies She's a bit of a tinkerer who delights in taking things apart just to put them back together differently. She likes making little clockwork contraptions out of scrap parts -- nothing so intelligent as a mammet (she's not sure she can take the existential questions around creating something smart enough to talk back), but with some basic functions. She also plays the violin, though this is one of the few things that she is shy about performing in front of others.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait Give her five minutes, and she will become your best friend. Warm and open and fascinated by everyone around her. Most Negative Trait Being everything to everyone and constantly changing yourself to suit their expectations surely has no long-term repercussions right??

L I K E S

Colors Gold, orange, shades of blues and greens Smells Lavender, campfire smoke, fresh bread, crushed pine needles, bergamot tea with a splash of honey Textures Well-worn leather, smooth chocobo feathers, freshly-polished gemstones Drinks Chilled mead in the summer, warmed rum on chill nights. Rich heavy porters. Black tea with a bit of milk and honey.

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes Only socially. You never know when you might need to offer a cigarette to a bored Garlean sentry to keep them occupied or press them for information. Drinks All kinds. The local establishment is the best way to learn about a new place, after all, and what kind of liquor a place produces says much about their culture. Drugs She's been known to partake of the fogweed on occasion Mount Issuance Eidin loves chocobos so so so much and turns to them during quiet periods when there are few dangers expected on the road. Her company-issued chocobo is named Fisticuffs for its habit of trying to fight everything and everyone. She has a few favored chocobos that she'll rent out in different regions when her own is too far away. There is no in-game mount that quite fits, but I like to think she's got a heavily modified magitek vehicle that's flight-capable -- something like the Magitek Sky Armor but much more homemade. Been Arrested Ask her about this after a beer or two.

------

Tagged by @elliewiltarwyn! Thanks for the tag!

I feel like I'm late to the party on this BUT just in case you haven't done it yet and are waiting to be tagged, I nominate @ravandfriendsxiv, @amons-hat-enthusiast, @oathkeeper-kima

Totally optional, of course!

#eidin kupfohcwin #femroe #roegadyn #eidin lore #definitely coming back to some of these questions later!#I know I want more lore for her siblings for instance but I don't want to take another week to do this

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chaoticarson16 · 4 months

Note

HEY

HEY YOU

Gimme the Loui hc’s 🔫👁️👁️

**this is a lighthearted joke so pls don’t feel forced to answer this lol**

Yes boss! Of course boss!

• French and English aren’t the only languages he knows, he also knows Spanish. Florida taught him, just like how he taught Florida French. They met when they were both still colonies. Loui stumbled upon an injured and deathly terrified Florida who was growling and hissing trying to seem intimidating to the “predator” that just found him unable to move. When Loui finally managed to convince Florida he wasn’t a threat he helped get him back to a hiding spot he had. It was there they became friends and started teaching each other their languages.

• He’s not very tall but he’s also not short. He’s around 5’8” and has kind of a stocky build. He does have some tattoos but they’re mostly covered. He’s also got scars but he prefers to keep them as hidden as he can.

• His cryptid form is one of the more tame ones. His lower legs are that of a wolf. He’s got wolf ears, his tail has gator spines going up it, and he’s got a big pair of white pelican wings. His eyes will glow purple and green and a faint skeleton design starts to appear all over his body.

• He’s very protective over his family. His siblings mean everything to him. And now that he is married to Florida and Gov he’s also very protective over them. PA approved of him ever since he saw the truth in Loui’s eyes when he promised to get rid of anyone who hurt Gov. No one questions why Spain’s now refusing every international meeting that will be in the states after Loui went on a little vacation.

• He has an amazing singing voice. Since wherever Florida is, so is Loui, he’s at their SoCal house quite a bit. They all have a music room that has their instruments and they like to play together. They know most songs and love to play them. If there’s a song they don’t know they can usually play it after listening to it.

#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #wttt #wttsh #wttt louisiana #wttsh louisiana #wttt headcanons #wttsh headcanons #how tf do you tag

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doodlesbf · 5 months

Text

Chain lore

Twilight

Info: link original (like the beginning of the game) to search and rescue his friend Lila and the children from the goblins boar riding Bandits but the twilight and meeting Minda, he have alot on his plate plus Lila lost her memory for a while but eventually she remembered which link glad in the end. He met the heros shade and learn the skills needed in order to face Ganondorf and zant. Link was reflected about his feelings for Minda til she returns to the twilight and destroyed the mirror to prevent this from happiness again leaving link heartbroken that he couldn't confess to her. After all that link became part adventurer to keep hyrule safe yet help out his home village but when he was returning he unfortunately was ambushed by monsters and injuries on his body but he managed to return to his village but sadly he dead from his grave injuries and zelda keep link death out of hyrule so the ordain villagers can have link burial in peace and hidden too. Link have a daughter but he didn't have the chance to met her..

Age: (during journey) 17

(After journey) adult

Weapons?: sword, shattered fragments mirror of twilight

Scar?: few scars

Clothes: heros tunic and wolf pelt, ranch cloths (2)

Relationship?: (thought of asking minda but she chose not too date link) heartbreak slowly going away

Personally: (cowboy or that southern Texas boyo) courageous, big brother role model

Tattoos?: on his face,forehead and on his chest & back (doodle for that another time), ears

Skin color: tan

Eye color: blue

Hair color: brown

Enjoy everyone ^^

#linked universe #linked universe au #doodle chain lore #lu twilight

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zozo-01 · 1 year

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"a shared name (and a little more than that)."

In honour of the fact that tattoos are hot as hell, I thought it be nice if we gave Sergi a little bit of angst. Gotta give my favourite werewoof some of my signature love on this blog!!!

The lovely Chelsea "Cherry" Roberts and tattoo design that started this fic belongs to talented @andr0leda and the amazing Sergi Stolyarchuk belongs to wonderful @barbwritesstuff!!!

[Also tagging @daveyistheloml because she is my number one Stan and I need to indoctrinate her to play the game, @gingerbreadmonsters , she too shall be indoctrinated and @ejunkiet who showed me this wonderful fandom to begin with!!!]

CW: Talks of survival guilt, Grief, Mentions of a major character passing, Fem! Alpha MC, Hopefully no fucked up formatting because we're posting this fic to AO3 ;--;

click here for the ao3 link!

How does one deal with being a ghost of their past?

It’s something Sergi has been struggling with since that night. The night when Alek died and he lost his arm and everything went to hell. Where he lost the one constant in his life, the man he could count on.

(He gained another constant at that same moment.)

He looks back to the days when he and Alek were less scarred, literally and metaphorically, by the world that had shaped them. Despite the two men being cousins, many thought them to be brothers, and in some cases, they thought they were twins. Sergi would argue that if they were twins, he would be the more attractive one. Alek just rolled his eyes at the older man’s confidence, but he never argued otherwise.

The boys never blamed anyone for the innocent mistake. For cousins, they looked uncannily similar. Thinking about that just brought Sergi more dread.

They say blood doesn’t define family, but in the case of the Stolyarchuk boys, it bonded them together. Their very beings were created from the same stardust, tying them together on this plane of existence. Where one goes, the other is close behind, ready to defend each other against every threat they face. From bar fights to asking Minjo out on that first date, Alek was ready to drag his idiot older cousin from trouble and Sergi was ready to fight for his baby cousin.

That’s what brothers do.

The night that Alek had become Alpha, the two had gone out to get tattoos commemorating the event. A big night meant a big celebration, and what bigger one was there than a matching tattoo, some booze and ample hope for what the future will bring? After carefully reviewing their options (really it was Alek stopping Sergi from choosing the first tattoo he saw), they decided to get the others' wolf form, starting from the chest and trailing down their arms.

A silent promise was made that night. That Aleksandr would lead his pack into a bright and prosperous future (and make his big brother proud), and that Sergi will always be Alek’s right-hand man no matter what (and to keep his baby brother safe).

Unbeknownst to Alek, Sergi had a special request for his tattoo. If you looked carefully at the fur of the wolf’s neck, you can see little words hidden among the lines. Мој мали брат. My little brother. No matter where Sergi had gone, he would carry his little brother with him.

(It’s a shame, really, that Chelsea will never get the chance to. He wanted to share every part of him and now part of him was missing.)

He lost that connection when his arm was ripped from his body, when his little brother was ripped from his life. The only physical reminder that he had of Alek was staring right back at him in the mirror.

To call his death an adjustment period would be a disrespect to the impact Alek had on the pack’s lives. It’s been months since the Blackwell attack, and even longer since the crash, yet everyone still looks at Sergi like he’s him. That because they share the same name or look eerily similar, that he has all the right answers.

He doesn’t. He will never be half the leader Alek was, but that didn’t change how the pack couldn’t separate the two.

It won’t change the fact that Alek’s name will follow his when Marco asks Sergi to join in on pack fun. Before, Sergi would drag Alek to relax with his family. Now there wasn’t a scowling Alpha begrudgingly following him.

It didn’t change the fact that he could see Minjo’s eyes glistening under the light, wiping her own tears before anyone could see them fall. He knew that in her mind’s eye, her husband was playing with their kids, as it should be.

It didn’t change the fact that JiAn and Nikolas Jr. have called him father. The children’s eyes were blurry and for a blissful moment, they forgot that their father’s funeral was weeks ago. Sergi was more than willing to provide that respite from grief, even if it amplified his own.

As children, Alek and Sergi were brimmed with pride that they were forever intertwined. As a man, Sergi so desperately wanted to separate from his brother, an action he knew would be impossible. Even his own heart had forgotten where he ended and Alek began.

Or should he say “had begun,” considering there was no Alek left for his magic to be weaved with? His death had left a void in its wake, an ever-present feeling (or lack thereof) that just felt wrong. It was a void that his wolf, his magic, his very being was so desperate to fill.

There was no more Sergi and Alek.

Just Sergi.

And that was the loneliest outcome of all.

He looks back up at the mirror, Alek’s ghost staring right back at him. He deserves it. To be eternally haunted by the brother he could not save. To be constantly reminded of the beloved father, husband and Alpha that he let die. For once in his life, he wishes that he didn’t resemble Alek as much as he did. That he could go back to being Alek’s cousin, not brother. Maybe then it would be easier for him to look at his reflection.

(It wouldn’t. His own image has forever been tainted by the dead.)

If he focused, really focused, he could still see his right arm attached to his body. He could see the full wolf art of his late brother. And he could still see the little writing within the fur of the neck. Мој мали брат. It's a cruel twist of fate that the immediate moment Alek had died, Sergi’s tattoo to honour his brother was forcibly removed too. Almost like he wasn’t worthy of that joyful memory between the two, tainted like every other memory that he held precious. He’d be inclined to believe that to be the case.

Sergi wasn’t a man who usually shed tears, but in that bathroom, he clutched his head and as he cracked under the pressure of the weight of Alek’s memory. Was it so much for a man to want his brother back? Please? If there was a God out there, wouldn’t He be kind enough to grant this simple wish? (Sergi knew he should have prayed more when he was younger.)

There was a soft tap against the door and it dragged Sergi out of his pool of misery. (She was making it a habit to save him from drowning.)

Shit, he thought that Chelsea was already asleep when he got up. Had he woken her up? Ruined her sleep because he couldn’t swallow down his pain as he should?

“Sergi, can I come in? Or are you gonna come out soon?” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, not the usual Alpha voice she has started to use around the pack. But rather the love-filled tone that was reserved for him and him alone. Forgive him for being a little wolf-like, but knowing that only he was privy to her more carefree yet loving side did wonders for him.

He sighed, washing his face to get rid of his weakness. “Yeah, Cherry Baby, I’m coming out.” He placed his hand and took a deep breath, composing himself before he saw her. He didn’t need to dump more shit on her than she already carries. He opened the door, his dark brown eyes meeting her kind gaze. His wolf howled at the sense of peace she brought him.

safesafesafesafe

Ain’t this a pretty sight? Sergi Stolyarchuk howling because of a person he loves. The things Chelsea did to him were indescribable, not like he’s complaining.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his collarbone. “Everything all right? You’ve been in there for a while and I heard some sniffling.” Of course, she heard him there. Forgetting the fact that she’s an Alpha, she’s also a wolf with better hearing than most of the damn planet.

He buried his face in her hair, trying to put together an excuse that’ll satisfy Chelsea’s need to take care of everyone (though she argues as Alpha that it’s her duty to), and make sure he wasn’t lying to her. Sergi repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, willing for some words to leave his mouth, knowing every silent moment made her more worried. He started to shake in her arms, trying to hold back the floodgate of emotions to pour out of him.

Before he could say anything, Chelsea rubbed her hands up and down his bare back. She maneuvered herself so that she could hold Sergi’s face in her hands and looked him in the eye. “If you don’t wanna talk now, that’s ok. But I am here for you, always and forever.”

‘Safe. Sergi.’ Her wolf cried out to him. ‘You’re safe with me and you won’t get hurt, not if I have anything to say about it. As your Alpha and as your lover, nothing will bring you pain while you’re in my arms, not for as long as I have a pulse and a heart hellbent on protecting you.’

Oh, the hold this woman has on him. He wouldn’t change it for the world.

He smiled and rested his forehead against hers, the single most devoted gesture that a wolf can do for their mate. (Mate, huh? He never thought he’d be the type to get a mate, but if it’s Chelsea then he’d choose her a hundred times over, in every lifetime.) “Thank you, Chesna. For everything you do for me,” he choked out through his tears.

She used both hands to cup his face, wiping his tears and bringing him closer for a kiss. Kissing Chelsea may be the greatest experience that there was ever to exist. Flying to the moon or winning a championship may produce incomparable euphoria, but there were multiple rings to win or space missions to be had.

There was only one Chelsea Roberts to kiss. One Chelsea with her cherry lips and her rosy cheeks that flushed when she got embarrassed. One Chelsea and her authoritative smirk that he was madly obsessed with kissing off her face. One Chelsea who looked and held him like he was the most precious and beautiful star in the night sky, despite the scars and bruises that marred his body.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she said as she kissed the scar where his right eye should be. “Your scars are beautiful because it’s proof that you’re alive and here. That you survived through hell and came out with a smile.” She spent the rest of that night kissing and complimenting his body. It’s a night he reminisces about when he’s feeling his lowest.

There was one Chelsea Roberts and Sergi Stolyarchuk had the honour of calling her his. What a lucky bastard.

She pulled away from the forever-too-brief kiss, giggling at his pout when she didn’t lean in for another one. “All right there, loverboy. Let’s head back to bed” – she gently pushed him at his suggestive expression – “and get some sleep. Actual sleep.”

He laughed at her adorable and exasperated expression, letting her drag him back to their bed. His heart felt full knowing that he was able to share himself at his most vulnerable moment and that Chelsea could do the same. For two guarded people, any step taken with trust and love in mind made him giddy.

The two wolves slid under the covers and faced each other. Chelsea smiled, thumbing the scar over his right eye and looked at him with all the love she could muster. It was a slow process, he is a stubborn bastard, but he was slowly accepting the fact that he was worthy of the look. She made him feel like he was worth a second look of adoration.

It was all too much for him, but the good kind. The kind of ‘too much’ that makes your heart sink because of how full your heart feels.

Choking on his utter love and devotion and admiration he has for her, he managed to tell her, “I love you, Chesna.”

Her eyes widened, and she stopped herself from denying his feelings for her. He hated that. That there was a part of Cherry that would always be shocked to hear that, like she hasn’t heard it before a thousand times. No matter, he’ll always be here to remind her how his magic sang for her.

With shy eyes and a beautiful smile, she repeated back to him, “I love you too.”

Both of their wolves howled in sync, overcome by the connection the two had for each other.

lovelovelovelove

Chelsea guided his head to lay on her chest, playing with his hair and singing a lullaby from when she was young. With every note the woman let out, Sergi fell deeper and deeper into a sleep.

Before he could fully enter the realm of dreams, a final thought crossed his mind like a shooting star.

The night he lost his constant in Alek, he gained another one through Chelsea. And whatever stardust created him, he was certain that she was from that same nebula, and that connection would bind them together for the rest of their time on this plane.

He never thought he could picture a future without his brother. He was certain that whatever dreams he had would revolve around him.

He dreamt that night about a future with his lover.

#blood moon if #blood moon sergi #blood moon oc #oh?? zo hurting a werewoof that isn't darlin??? say it ain't so!!!#dw dw darlin will still get angst on this blog #BUT RN ITS SERGI TIMEEE #the werewoofs are helping zo make moots >:333 #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

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famousfruit · 6 months

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sho kasamatsu. thirty. cis man. he/him. ┊┊ cerberus corp has been watching TSUTOMU KAWAMATA. some of the public has dubbed them OKAMI because of WOLF MAGIC gifted by BEING ATTACKED BY WOLVES. having been an extra ordinary since 2015, they’re doing a good job at hiding THEY DON’T REALLY EVEN LIKE DOGS. when they aren’t working their day job as a NIGHT RADIO HOST, they are fond of PAINTING, MARTIAL ARTS and are never seen without THEIR GOLD NECKLACE. at first glance they seem INTELLIGENT & OUTWARDLY PUT TOGETHER, though their close friends know them to also be MALICIOUS & EMOTIONALLY WOUNDED. they consider themself a VILLAIN. ┊┊ blue. he/him. twenty-three. est.

001. GENERAL

name tsutomu kawamata. nicknames tomu, tommie, tom, tsutommie. age thirty. date of birth january 6th. zodiac capricorn. place of birth tokyo, japan, but moved to new york shortly after his birth. current residence new york. gender cis man. pronouns he/him. sexuality bisexual(?). occupation late night radio host.

faceclaim sho kasamatsu. height five foot ten. tattoos yes. piercings n/a. distinguishing features has chronic resting bitch face, a very very identifiable voice if you're a night owl, has lots of bite scars on his body from the wolf attack, wolf ears and tail hidden by his hoodies. positive traits intelligent, put together, enduring. negative traits malicious, emotionally wounded, apathetic. labels / tropes the wounded bird. likes winter, cats, long walks, painting, kendo, sleeping through the day. dislikes summer, dogs, waking up early, long telephone calls to his mother. fears wouldn't you like to know, weather boy? but dogs, mostly. hobbies kendo! painting! most martial arts tbh, he's been to most of the schools in new york to train/take lessons, he likes shooting too but he hasn't been to a range for a few years, hunting. habits a night owl by nature and profession, capable of sitting still for long periods of time, bites his nails on his non dominant hand.

002. EXTRA ORDINARY

the questions here for each section are suggestions to get you thinking. as long as the section is appropriately elaborated upon, you’re fine!

near death experience… he was hunting in upstate new york and was mobbed by a pack of starved wolfdogs that were set loose on him because he was trespassing. get ganked loser! he woke up in the hospital very clearly an eo and was in an isolated ward for some time until he checked himself out.

power… he can spawn wolves and he can control the wolves he spawns, as well as any other wolves that happen to be around. he also has wolf ears (and so wolf hearing) and a wolf tail, if he makes an effort he can hide these using his wolf magic, but they are there whenever he's spawning wolves or at a resting state.

he can temporarily transform other people into wolves too, but depending on their willingness the effectiveness and duration varies extensively. at the max he can do it for one hour if they're very eager. humans transformed into wolves are immune to his commands and can do whatever they want while wolfed out. the transformation is slightly painful to and from, though. more uncomfortable than anything.

he, however, can turn into a wolf for an indefinite period of time though he almost never does this. lol.

drawbacks / vulnerabilities… he doesn't like his power. he can only cosplay as human for a short period of time before his ears and tail pop back into existence. he's not particularly fond of dogs and treats them as his soldiers, in spite of being able to hear their thoughts and intelligence. he's just a hater, through and through.

codename… picked it for himself and he has not a crumb of creativity so... okami it was. he also likes the game and is one of the last remaining users of the wii because of it.

003. EXTRA

i will add more here in time as i don't have a full biography written yet and i'm very slow. please forgive me. i will give anyone his sparknotes if asked.

#cc.intro #this is so bad but yeah. tommie!

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madamebaggio · 2 years

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Request are now officially closed.

I’ll be updating WIPs in this order:

“Every Piece of My Heart”

“The Horse Lord and the Stark Wolf”

“A million years ago”

“Hidden scars and wolf tattoos”

(more after those are done).

See you all soon ;)

#madame baggio #Every Piece of My Heart #the horse lord and the stark wolf #A million years ago #hidden scars and wolf tattoos #posted on ao3 #all of those works are there

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bewitchingbaker · 2 months

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The Baker and Werspinna

Chris finds himself in a flirtatious back and forth with a certain dimension hopping Spider themed hero.

A sweet but smutty drabble starring @birkenzeisig muse @werspinna and Chris

"That depends-" gently she took the mans big hand from her elbow in her small,scarred hand and breathed a little kiss on his knuckles even if her grey eyes never stopped looking up to Chris and there was a little smile that was as sharp as a blade pulling at the scarred corner of her mouth: "-What nice things exactly have you planned to do with me when I have time and come for a nice visit?"

A red hue fills those chubby cheeks of his.

Her grey eyes locked in on his soft brown eyes, the soft and ever so subtle kiss to he knuckles.Topped off with the soft and alluring tone that was her voice.

The laysister knew what she was doing and Chris loved every minute of it.

Ever since their first meeting, the spider hero known as Werspina and the bewitching baker had something going on. Prolonged stares whenever she would leave. Hand touches that left him as red as a tomato. Of course it wouldn’t be a visit from Wolf without an old poem hitting at some shared desires. However, even the baker was able to surprise the spider woman with his admission of what they wanted.

But it looked as though things had come to a head.

What was the baker to do?

“Maybe make you a nice dinner” he blushes, “If you have time, maybe a dessert as well..”

A half truth.

Now the baker had every intention of making Werspinna a delicious meal, but she knew what he really wanted. After all they both wanted the same thing. Those eight eyes flutter at the baker, giving him a smile that gave him peek gap in her teeth.She breathes another kiss against his knuckles.

“Sounds like a plan,” she smiles. “Lead the way.”

A wink and the coup de grace.

“Muuske~”

Just like a cat trapping their mouse, the spider hero had him wrapped around her fingers.

With a few shared giggles and small saunter, the duo stood next to each other on the elevator. Sneaking glances at the other’s physique and figure. Soft brown hues admired all of Wolf’s features. Those beautiful grey eyes paired with her beautiful olive skin slowly trailing down to her ample breasts. She would soon find out how much the baker thought about the plump hips she hidden under her armor, though his stares wouldn’t go unnoticed by Wolf. Two eyes took a nice long look at the baker’s ass. Another pair gaze knowingly into those soft brown hues. It isn’t long before theduo found themselves, inching closer and closer to the other until finally, their lips intertwine. A warm soft kiss. Her pox scarred hands caress those chubby cheeks as if he were made of glass. His own hands lost in those coffee-colored locks. Admittedly, Wolf was pleasantly surprised to feel Chris deeping their kiss.

Just as the took a moment for air, they reached his floor.

It isn’t long before they’re rushing to his place. The second Chris unlocked his door, he is greeted once again by the gift that Wolf’s lips. He smiles into their kiss, already excited about their plans. The baker's hands pull her closer to him by her hips, earning a small giggle from the laysister. Their hands stripping the other out of their clothes.

Wolf’s hands eased the baker out of his shirt while Chris eased her pants off. Another break for air. Both were pleased at the sight before them. She bit her lip at the broad shoulders with matching massive arms, though her 8 eyes were drawn to to the gold and purple piercing that adorned his navel.

“Ach~” she laughs. “You’re certainly full of surprises~”

A bashful chuckle escaepes Chris’s lips, hands easing off his pants to reveal his hardening length. Just as she was enticed by what kid underneath the baker’s clothes, the sight of those tattoos and the beauty beneath her trousers made him lick his lips in excitement. Before she knows it, the baker is standing over her.

“That’s funny,” he replies, one hand tilting her chin to gaze into those enticing eyes. “I was going to say the same thing about you~”

To her own surprise, Wolf was the one blushing from the Chris’s words. Earning a smile from Chris. Who would have thought the shy and blushing baker could flirt with the best of them? It was safe to say that both were in for a night of surprises. His hands snaked their way around her waist and onto the plumpness that was her ass. Without much effor the baker lifts Wolf into his arm once again meeting her lips with his own.

The baker deepens their kiss, nibbling at her bottom lips before pressing a few kisses against her neck. Soft pleas of more escaped her lips as he carried to his bed. Like a delicate flower, Chris gently laid Wolf onto his bed. Not once stopping his worship of the art that was Werspina. Softly grazing her neck with teeth while his hands admired her breasts.

“Hermosa…” Chris whispireed against her skin. “You’re radiant mi angel~”

Soon his kisses trailed lower and lower. Lips pressing themselves against her tummy, hands caressing those hypnotizing thighs of hers. Eight eyes stared in admiration at Chris’s action, biting her bottom lip in anticipation. A soft laugh escapes her lips once she feels the baker press a kiss against her ankles, trailing up to her thighs and giving her small teasing bites before finally coming face to face with her arousal.

Soft brown hues met her grey eyes, looking at her as if asking for permission. A pox scarred hand reaches down to caress his cheek once again

“Don’t keep me waiting~”

That ever-so-alluring purr of her voice was enough for him to press his eager lips against her heat, happily obliging her request. It wasn’t long before the baker heard the sweet song that Wolf’s pleasured sigh.One hand caressed the hero’s plump thighs as he lapped at her folds, his other hand soon interlocking with hers. Each lick earned a moan and every kiss to her arousal received a squirm. 6 of Wolf’s eyes were closed in pleasure while two remained open to gaze at the beauty before her.

Now, Wolf had her fair share of experiences with oral sex. But there was something adorable about seeing the baker so focused on bringing her to a nice climax. From the way he had her squirming and filling the room with her rooms, the adorable little baker had done this many times before (she would make sure to tease him about this later). Plus, it was nice to see that cute butt of his out of those jeans.

Suddenly, our Spider hero could feel the baker’s finger pumping in and out of her arousal. She began to arch her back, throwing her head back with a gasp of pleasure.

“Oh! Chris~” Music to his ears.

With his fingers massaging her walls and his tongue dancing along her folds, the baker had Wolf right where he wanted her. Her beautiful fingers were lost in his curls, her ever so addicting and those cute moans only encouraged his tongue’s dance against her folds. When he heard Wolf moan out his name, Chris decided it was time to deliver the coup de grace. Those lips wrapped around her ever-so-sensitive pearl as he continued to massage her walls.

Her toes curled and eight eyes saw stars with a loud moan, those thighs clenched around his head. Chris’s hands held onto her thighs as she continued her climax, her own hand holding him close to her drenched heat. A few seconds passed, riding out the rest of her climax. Soft moans turned into pants and pants turned into laughs.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” Chris asked with a wink, earning another laugh from Wolf. Her hands reached out to caress those chubby cheeks with an enthusiastic nod. With a smile, she pressed a kiss against his forehead. Then his nose. She leaned ever so close to the baker’s face, her poxscarred lips only inches from his. Just as he leaned close, she pulled away with a laugh

“I very much did enjoy myself, muuske,” Wolf cooed before giving him a light peck, “It’s been a while since someone’s surprised me like this. But~”

In one swift action, she gently pushed him onto his back, his soft brown hues looking up at those 8 gorgeous eyes. Wolf’s lips were soon pressed against his neck, earning a few soft hums of appreciation from the baker. Her hands ran along his chest as she continued to cover his neck in soft kisses and small bites before finally whispering.

“I have a few surprises of my own~”

Wolf began another trail of kisses from his neck, leading to his chest and along his dolcissimo stomach. It isn’t long before she’s face to face with his arousal. With a soft peck, her hands began to slowly stroke his length, offering him a knowing wink. Chris enjoyed her strokes, doing his best not to get too loud. But even he couldn’t hold back a soft moan.

“No need to hold back,” she whispered with an impish smile.

Soon her tongue danced around his shaft, coaxing a gasp of pleasure out of the baker. With 6 of hereyes closed and another 2 gazing into his, Wolf began to take more of Chris into her mouth, her hands continuing her strokes. It isn’t long before her head is bobbing up and down his length, soon taking the entirety of his girth down her throat. Her eyes did not once leave Chris’s gaze.

“Geez, Wolf…that feels amazing..~” the baker moaned.

A muffled giggle escaped her lips before finally coming up for air.

“Good, it would not be very nice if I did not return the favor,” she winked.

A familiar red hue fills his cheeks as nods in appreciation, happy to know he wasn’t sleeping with a selfish partner. Though he would be fun bringing her to climax with no reciprocation. Chris was always happy to bring joy to his partners with his mouth.

Chris’s fingers motioned towards his dresser, causing it to open and reveal a condom. Thanks to the gift of his magic, their protection levitated towards them. As if Wolf were made of glass, the baker softly laid her down on her back with another warm kiss. Thank the Gods for his magic because this wouldn’t have been as smooth as the condom was already unwrapped by the time it reached his hands.

Wolf smiled in anticipation as she watched Chris slip-on his protection. With a beckon of her finger, she pulled Chris in for another smooch. His rather thick length teased her arousal, occasionally rubbing against her ever-so-sensitive pearl. The spider hero’s hand found themselves caressing those beautiful curls on Chris’s head while the other guided his length into her. With an impish smile, she leaned up to Chris’s ear.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” she whispered in a sultry tone, “Muuske~”

A bright red blush spreads across the baker’s face. Wolfgund knew she had him wrapped around her finger and boy did he love every minute of it. Her wish was his command. With one hand lost in her beautiful coffee hues locks, the baker thrusts every inch of his arousal into her welcoming heat. A loud gasp came from Wolf’s lips, throwing her head back in pleasure.Chris released his own groan once he felt her warmth around him. 8 half lidded eyes stared longingly at Chris, all but telling him to keep going.

With their hands interlocked, the baker’s thrusts were slow yet deep. No doubt wanting to enjoy every minute of their time. Who knows when they would get another chance at this. It wasn’t long before their dance began to pick up speed, their moans growing in volume. Their song of passsion was soon joined by the sounds of his bed creaking against the wall. Wolf’s legs wrapped around the baker’s hips as his lips wrapped around her ample breasts. Soon, they both began to feel that familiar pressure from their dance. Wolf’s walls tightened around Chris’s arousal, earning another moan from the baker. Their eyes met for an eternal moment.

“Wolf…I’m close~”

“Oh Chris…~”

As they got lost in each other’s gaze, the interdimensionl duo lips met in a heated kiss, muffling their moans. Chris’s thrust’s got faster and Wolf’s grip on him tightened, her nails leaving small scratches along his back.

With one last thrust, a groan from the deepest parts of Chris’s stomach filled the room. It wasn’t long before Wolf let out a moan of pleasure as they released their climaxed simultaneously with one final kiss.

After a few moments they broke their kiss for some much needed air, getting lost in the other’s gaze with a few tired pants. Their bodies were slick with sweat and their clothes were scattered all over the room. Wolf let out a tired laugh as she carressed the back of Chris’s neck, bringing about that all too familiar blush.

“There’s that beautiful hue~” she laughed with a kiss to his nose, “Now…as nice as this is, you are getting quite heavy on me and I imagine this will not be a comfortble way to nap..”

Chris laughed tiredly before slowly pulling out with a soft moan. He collapsed next to the laysister and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I have to agree with you, mi reina,” Chris smiled. “This is much more comfortable. Hopefully we can do this again.”

A small yawn came from Wolf before she settled into his arms.

“Maybe, as long as Spider Society doesn’t…” Wolf pauses with a tilt of her head. “How do you say? Cock block me? And if you prepare those sweet treat I oh so desire~”

A boop of nose followed.

“Oh trust me, after this I’ll bake ya anything you want.” Chris laughed with another kiss to her forehead.

The laysister knew what she was doing and Chris loved every minute of it.

#; ic #; drabble #; usfw #; werspinna #First smut drabble #in a long time!#hope you guys enjoy #let #me know how i did!#huge shout out to Wolf- mun

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xfatalexit · 13 days

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APPS.

is that tyler lockwood on bourbon street ? the 45/49 year old werewolf who stay in the bayou ? i heard they are married to gabriela chavez. they are notoriously known for being inventive and undeviating but also cantankerous and impetuous. which is probably why they are considered the lockwolf around town. i wonder if they had their tarot cards reading, yet? either way, the cards on the table will reveal their fate soon enough.

QUOTE.

"and i'll choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, i'd find you and, i'd choose you." tyler lockwood

AESTHETIC.

army green jacket, amber gold hues, morning dew seems sweeter with you, our scars tell a story, smudge dirt on denim jeans , secrets hidden on pages

GENERAL DETAILS.

full name — tyler lockwood. / name meaning — builder; doorkeeper. / nickname — ty . / age — forty-four. / gender — cis male. / pronouns — he/him. / species — werewolf. / neighborhood — bayou. / occupation — investigator assistant, and a proud owner of a bed and breakfast in the bayou.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim — michael trevino. / hair color and length — dark brown, short length. / hair style — click. / eye color — brown. / height — 6′ 0″ (183 cm). / tattoos — n/a. / piercings — n/a. / clothing style — form fitting t shirts, button down - collard shirts, warm fleece army green pocket jacket - click, , brown leather watch - click, wedding band - click, boots or sneakers.

PERSONILTY

label — the lockwolf. / positive traits — inventive, undeviating. / negative traits — cantankerous, impetuous. / zodiac sign — aquarius. / tarot card — the chariot. / moral alignment — neutral good.

FAMILY.

father — charles lockwood. / mother — carol lockwood. / sibling(s) — none; uncle(s) — mason lockwood./ wife - gabriela rosza./ children(s) open./ extended family — click.

BACKGROUND.

tyler left mystic falls after the death of liv parker.

while tyler taught new werewolves how to embrace their werewolf side, it resulted in him embracing his calling.

tyler eventually started his own pack again, as he tried to find purpose to the gift he was given. yet, he still had nightmares about the wedding.

tyler later met gabriela who he thought was beautiful. he was drawn to her instantly, and more so he was amused by her brutal honesty, which he found refreshing and rare, and not too long later he proposed.

later his leadership was questioned and even challenged when one of the members showed their indifference of following a leader who would marry a demon.

challenged, they fought and tyler won. after his victory he told his pack that he would still step down if they wanted him to;; and told his pack that if they didn't accept her, that meant that they didn't accept him.

his pack voted amongst each other, and agreed to keep tyler as their leader.

later tyler married gabriela rosza in the forest - click , among his pack, family and friends, and soon started their family having four kids.

tyler often traveled to find other packs; and find new healing and teaching methods before he settled down in the bayous and started a bed and breakfast, called mansion madison. the name of the bed and breakfast was named after his daughter. the bed and breakfast was meant to help traveling werewolf.

tyler lived a happily married life with his family, and created a great community amongst his people.

tyler develop an unlikely relationship with a new orleans city cop, during a hunt when wyatt was the hunter and tyler was the hunted. after being shot in his werewolf state, tyler turned back into a human, and wyatt's life was never the same.

after developing a friendship wyatt calls on tyler sometimes to help him with missing person cases, since he knows about tyler's heightened senses.

everything had fit into place for tyler, until one day his kid triggered their curse, and transformed through fire. their body burning from the inside out before they transform into a wolf. tyler did not know that his species and his wife species combine would create something called a hellhound.

with this new development some of the new members are questioning his leadership, and there are rumors about over throwing him, as well as rumors spreading amongst the other pack but tyler is is more concerned about his kid, to see the trouble that lies ahead.

MUN.

cyn, them/they. estd

#inaduintro

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niigata-division · 8 months

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“To forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time.”

Introduction

Lyall Shiba, also known as Corvus in rap battles, is a homicide detective for the Niigata Police Department and is considered one of their best despite his age. A once famous model and actor, everything changed for Lyall when he had a run-in with “The Sweetheart Killer” and became the only one to ever survive him. Now, after discovering that the person who attempted to kill him is participating in the DRB, Lyall has convinced his boss, Seiji Tsukimoto, to let him join his team.

Lyall is a tall man in his early 20s with a lean figure and is considered extremely handsome. He has slightly wavy black hair that stops at the base of his neck and right swept bangs covering his forehead. His eyes are bright turquoise and are hidden behind a pair of round black rim glasses. A notable trait of his are the multiple track marks on his arms from his drug addict days. He also has several tattoos across his body.

He usually wears a white button-up shirt, a black dress tie with a silver lion pin in the middle, and a dark blue sweater vest. He also wears black dress pants and black dress shoes. For accessories, he wears a pair of silver studs and a silver watch on his right wrist.

Outside of work, Lyall dresses in something completely different. He goes for a more goth style with a black long sleeved button shirt, black skinny jeans, a black corset, a leather harness around his legs, and black combat boots with belts. He also exchanges his glasses for contacts and wears heavy black mascara and dark blue lipstick. For accessories, he wears a necklace with a silver ankh hanging from it, a black studded choker, several silver rings on both hands, and multiple silver piercings across his face and ears. His lion pin is also now moved to his shirt collar.

Name Meanings

Shiba (志波) - Willful Wave

Lyall - “Wolf”

Aliases

Pretty Boy, Handsome, Heartbreaker, etc.

“Japan’s Former It Boy”

Rookie, Kid, Newbie, etc. - Seiji

Uncle - Yaeka & Sara

“Ly-chan”

Biographical Info

Gender - Male

Age - 24

Birthday - January 21st

Ethnicity - Half Japanese, Half Canadian

Hair Color - Black (Dyed)

Eye Color - Turquoise

Height - 192 cm / 6’3

Weight - 170lbs / 77kg

Star Sign - Aquarius

Piercings - Lobes, Helix, Industrial, Tragus, Conch, Bellybutton, Eyebrow, Snake Bites, Labret, Nostril, Septum, Tongue, Nipples, Prince Albert

Markings - Multiple stab wounds across his chest and abdomen, Scar running down his sternum, Multiple track marks on both his arms, The phases of the moon down his spine, A raven on his left shoulder, a death tarot card on his right forearm, The phrase “He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence” down his left rib cage, the Egyptian god Anubis on his right thigh, Eye of Horus on his left ankle

Family

Father

Mother

Twin Sister

Pet Owl

Voiced By - BewhY (Rapping)

Fun Facts

MC Name - Corvus

Occupation - Homicide Detective

Division - Niigata

Team - Valor Guard

Position - 2nd Member

Favorite Food - Brown Maple Syrup

Least Favorite Food - Oysters

Likes - Literature, Poetry, The Occult, Egyptian Mythology

Dislikes - Touya Kisaragi, Opioids, His Chest Pains, His fangirls bothering him during work

Hypnosis Microphone

Lyall’s Microphone takes the form of a metallic black stand with silver swirls engraved on it, sitting where the mic should be is a dark blue crystal crescent moon with a silver wing sprouting from the side. In the middle of the crescent is a piezoelectric-style mic.

His Speaker takes the shape of a giant black coffin that, when opened, releases a giant flock of ravens and multiple black circular speakers that surround the coffin.

His rap ability, Cursed Bond, allows him to be bonded with his opponent, and if he is knocked out, his opponent is forcibly knocked out along with him.

Lyall’s rap centers about how we should honor the dead and that we should strive to never forget them. He raps about how he’ll never rest until he can give closure to the families whose loved ones have been brutally murdered. He also raps about the occult often making reference to imagery related to death.

Personality

Lyall is known to be quite flirtatious and confident, with many falling for his charms and a smooth way of talking. Well aware of his good looks, Lyall is not above using them to get information out of people. He is also quite intelligent, using his unmatched intuition and sharp observation skills to see through everybody, a skill he uses to his advantage.

Lyall is extremely obsessed determined to solve his cases, going as far as to twist and even straight-up break laws at times. He is under of the opinion, that why should it matter as long as he can provide some sort of closure to the families of his victims. Even if it means getting in trouble with his supervisors. Lyall also is also quite empathetic and often thinks of other people's feelings, and, in some cases, he has been known to conceal facts to spare people from being scarred by the ugly truth.

However, underneath his charming smile, Lyall suffers from extreme guilt. Even now, Lyall doesn't understand why he of all people survived the Sweetheart Killer. It eats at him, with Lyall in the past even going as far as abusing drugs to ignore how he felt. Now, after learning that Touya Kisaragi has been allowed to roam free, Lyall can't help but feel something new. Revenge. Lyall can feel it festering within him. He can't help but want vengeance against the person who tried to kill him and who killed so many others, even if it means throwing everything else in his life away.

Background

In a separate post coming soon.

Trivia

Lyall has a fondness for poetry and, in particular, for William Blake.

Lyall has a pet Eurasian owl by the name of Isis. He found her as an abandoned chick and nursed her back to health.

Lyall is quite fond of the occult and has several items connected to it in his house.

Lyall is fluent in Japanese, English, and French.

Lyall is a pagan and is an active practitioner of witchcraft.

Lyall occasionally suffers severe pain from his scars but refuses to take medication for it.

Lyall used to suffer from a pretty bad opioid addiction, but he's been sober for a few years. He completely avoids painkillers now, even if it means being in agonizing pain.

He has a crush on Kaoru Shinozaki of Edogawa, often going to her for information about his cases. He became infatuated with her after learning she didn't know who he was.

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #niigata division #valor guard #lyall shiba #character bio

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sweatforged · 2 months

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silas. • bodyclaim. • headcanons. • isms. • prompts.

pedro pascal, homosexual, male + he/him, fighter «—◦—→ well met, silas rivera! the godling born child of kratos. it’s been 45 years and now they have answered the song in their veins. can he change the course of history with their loyalty, protectiveness, + strong will? or will their stubbornness, callousness, short temper hinder them? only time will tell before this godling’s name is sung into myth and legend!

BASIC INFO

full name — Silas Rivera age — forty-five (december 7th) gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns) orientation — homosexual occupation — musician, us army, mma fighter + champion, musician hero ;) deity connection — kratos class — fighter weapon — tba clothing style / armor — jeans + flannel & layers, so many layers / tba

PHYSICAL INFO

face claim — Pedro Pascal hair — brown / eyes — brown height — five foot & eleven inches build — kinda like a T, broad af shoulders, semi-muscled torso, slutty waist (it be thin ok), everything else is yum scars — a faint one across the bridge of his nose, cut underneath his left eye, many many small ones littered across his body tattoos — notes in the back of his neck (he was grounded forever for getting it) like so, wolf on the inside of his left arm like so, front right thigh like so piercings — ears special characteristics — generally quiet, comes off a little distracted sometimes, will snark without reason, some dare calling him grumpy sexual preference— sorry y'all, this boy's a bottom sub (he thinks he's a switch but he's really not(in bed anyway). don't tell him tho.)

PERSONALITY

alignment — chaotic good positive traits — protective, caring, strong-willed, loyal negative traits — short-tempered, stubborn, callous, grumpy hobbies — training, music, kendo/kenjutsu, cooking, enjoying the quiet

MEDICAL INFO

mental — ptsd physical — when he was younger, he got his shoulder dislocated and his older half-sister thought she could pop it back in. she didn’t and broke his shoulder. he couldn't work for months, nor could he use the bow for even longer, now he can’t lift his right arm as high as the left one still, but only few know phobias — claustrophobia, pisantrophia eyesight — 20/20 although avrae tends to disagree dominant hand — left hand drug use — nop alcohol use — no !! diet — healthy, balanced. always makes his own food so he knows what's in it.

BACKGROUND

birthplace — new haven, CT parents — Marin Rivera (mother), Sarah Rivera (step-mother) & Haruhito Shindo (step-father) & Kratos (biological parent). siblings — older sister, Luisa Rivera (she be mortal) pets — floof, stray cat coming by the gym, died in a car crash right outside education — high school drop-out notable skills — krav maga, can wear cowboy hats with anything, can sing, has a mean left hook

BIO

Marin Rivera had everything in life one could wish for. She was born the youngest daughter of a wealthy family, her father dealing with property and her mother a former goddess of ballet. Money - for her, would never be an issue, but money wasn't what Marin craved more than anything in the world. It also wasn't top class education or how many horses she could own, no. What she truly desired was love. Only she wasn't meant to ever find it.

She fell for a man she couldn't have, a man who knew of her desperation and the many digits on her bank account and he saw his chance. His marriage would be a secret for at least two years of their relationship, his wife hidden away downtown, sated and distracted with money he got from naive Marin who saw the world through rose-tinted glasses.

Up until the day she wound up pregnant with a child. Before she could explain, he packed his bags and ran. It wasn't his! But she found out about his wife the day before and believe it or not - heartbreak and alcohol was never a good combination. A beautiful - if rough around the edges stranger approached her and she gave herself to him willingly, if only to forget about the pain for a night.

Silverspoon or not, Marin had only recently turned nineteen, had barely seen the world or found her way in it - too busy chasing a man who clearly was poison for her. So when she came back home, bags packed and head hung low, she was ... well, not quite welcome and yet her parents were grateful she gave them the option to hide her away. If she wanted a chance at a proper husband, she couldn't bring a little boy or girl into this life. No way.

When Silas was born, Marin .. still hoped. She hoped to raise him as her own, given she had lost everything to protect the little boy she held in her arms, but it wasn't going to be her son for long. She was sent abroad to study only a few days later and Silas was raised the youngest Rivera offspring. A miracle, given the age of his "mother". With Marin's bad decisions running in his blood, Silas was watched quite closely. A strong, strict hand would surely do the trick, right?

It didn't.

At first it did, indeed. He grew up with everything onee could possibly want. He pointed at a horse, they got him a horse. He pointed at a man on TV playing the guitar... they got him lessons. It wasn't like Silas missed anything... nothing materialistic anyway. He was signed up for language courses before he could walk and for the longest time .. he did well. When it was still all games and fun. Children's brains are spectacular, aren't they? But the older he grew, the worse it got. Diagnosed with ADHD at the age of six, one would think his parents went easier on him. They did not. Don't let the child get bored, they said. And they didn't.

His father brought in even more for him to learn. Inspired by his own heritage, he felt it useful that Silas was taught in the art of archery, japanese sword fighting and the like. Due to an infinite lack of talent when it came to tea and calligraphy, he was spared in that regard at least. All that set aside, both parents had been raised with a very clear set of rules themselves. Anything less than perfect is a failed opportunity to prove your worth.

All that pressure did not bring forth the expected rewards, in fact - they witnessed the opposite, both in school and at home. He failed time and time again. Far from a social butterfly, Silas ... struggled in school and found himself more enemies than friends, in a way - without trying. Too rich, too spoiled, too slow, too stupid. Silas was a many things, clearly. And at home, he would be ridiculed and lectured on his shortcomings.

They were lucky Silas lasted as many years as he did before he snapped, because no child could thrive under that amount of pressure. When he did snap, he was in school. P.E. was his least favorite time of the day despite him being fitter than every single kid in school simply because there wasn't a single day he didn't break anything. He tried not to. It just .. happened. And then one of the other boys laughed... it wasn't even that he was embarrassed.. it just.. he was tired of it all. He was tired of not belonging, he was tired of scrutinizing eyes on him twenty-four-seven, he was tired of working as hard as he could and still failing.

That kid never laughed at Silas again. In fact, nobody did. Not after the boy spent a month at the hospital, mostly unconscious. The outrage at home... unbearable. But for the first time in his life... he felt content. It lasted a few mere minutes, but he remembered. Sure, music got him to almost that feeling, it did, but it wasn't exactly the same. He'd ... felt peace. And so he chased it. Plenty of kids at school to experiment with. Many of them eager to fight him. Rich kid schools, worse than public in that regard. Most kids were trapped in their family's shadow and knew they needed to perform or else..

And oh, he found that feeling again. And again. Every time his fist connected with a body, every time his knuckles found bone to crack, he felt alive. School was far from happy, but a generous donation had the majority of teachers look away. Or maybe they just didn't care.

Highschool went the exact same way, only Silas was slowly growing into himself. Taller, still incredibly thin, which was the reason he was underestimated regularly, only to then surprise everybody. Silas was convinced people were either born smart or strong; he was definitely the latter, so school was .. a necessity he barely managed, only he never meant to go much further than graduation.

At 19, Silas found out a twisted version of the truth. Marin .. was dead. To him, she was a sister he never met, the one his parents always spoke about, but a guest at the funeral mentioned something he couldn't forget and when he brought it up with his parents, they told him Marin didn't want a child and they never knew the father.

That explained so much. Not even his parents wanted him. His life ... a lie. All of it. That night, Silas grabbed his guitar, packed a bag and ran. Nobody would see him for a long time, but his issues never subsided. Even the US army struggled to contain him, because just like before .. he found plenty of potential victims among those who didn't know to keep their opinions to themselves when he was around. Though he got lucky and found a sponsor among the corporals, one who seemed to be ready to help. Come what may.

Anger management therapy in combination with meditation and straining daily workout sessions seemed to do the trick for a while. Order and guidance instead of pressure seemed .. to work and while beating up punching bags wasn't quite the same thrill, it .. was okay. He even found time for music again.

And then it wasn't okay and he .. had to leave. Again. But this time he wasn't alone. Corporal went with him (and brought his daughter). They built a life for themselves in New Haven, Silas was working as a cleaner at the local gym and Corporal got into the mayor's office, sure to work his way up the ranks quickly. A few months later, first relapse. It should've cost him his job, but .. it didn't. Instead it granted him a new opportunity. Even though it would ultimately cost him his family.

He was battle-trained, had spent the majority of his life training so becoming an MMA fighter sure.. sounded like a great opportunity even though he was too old to properly get into it, they said. Silas didn't care. One, because he knew he could and two, because he didn't care about prizes, the knowledge that he could thrive in doing the one thing he was truly good at.. that was all he needed.

When he won his first title only a few years later, nobody could believe it, really. And then he held it. Year after year. The Lion - as they called him, stood strong. Silas was growing older and he was getting closer and closer to that age, at which point he was considered too old to contest, even though he felt fine and stronger than ever, the constant training sure wearing down his body's reserves, but ... his will remained unbroken and his performance unbeaten. Rules and regulations were merciless. He held several titles until he retired and returned to the gym in teeny tiny little New Haven, which felt ...lacking after he'd seen the world, so he once again packed his bags, grabbed his guitar and moved to Los Angeles.

Part of him regretted the choice he made. Fame for family. But at the end of the day he knew it'd been for the best. They were better off without him, surely. Being single wasn't so bad either. Being somewhat famous ... surely helped potential hookups look past his lack of social ... affinity. It also helped pushing his career as a musician up to the point of semi-regular income with little gigs and a few released albums. Life was .. going.

That was until he found out the truth.

The actual truth.

Obvious choice, wasn't it? He had nothing to lose.

#godlingintros #pinned post.#silas bio.#to my defense... he is old... long life... long bio #yesyes nghhh #i could've gone on for longer T.T

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