#//AND AFTER I SPEND SO MUCH TO GET ASHEN KNIGHT.. .

[kayfabebabe]

i was thinkin for the knight reader/lord regal stuff, some angst where the reader takes a heavy hit to protect his lordship, and is left bleeding out in regal's arms

Mango and my Dear Anon, thank you both so much for your Asks! I have truly fallen in love with this AU and I have some fun future plans for it. If you’ve not read the first part then you can find it RIGHT HERE.

This is a heavier part of this AU so please read the warnings. 

Nobel Lord Regal X Male Knight Reader WARNINGS - Major character death. Description of injuries and blood. HEAVY Angst. Descriptions of violence.

(Ps. Major thanks to @regalityandcoffee for helping me get this thing finished after MONTHS of staring at it and not writing anything.)

~ ~ ~

There are a handful of moments in our lives that can be described as truly 'perfect.' For some, it's a childhood memory of joyfully splashing in puddles after heavy rainfall. Screeching at the top of their lungs with laughter until they grew too tired to continue. For others, it's lazily basking in the first Summer sun of the year. Thankful for the warmth chasing the lingering chill of Winter from the air. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to experience moments like these, over and over again. 

The beginning of that night was one of those perfect moments. You had crept through the darkened halls of the manor to William’s bedchambers and he welcomed you with an enthused kiss. It had been a great number of days since you could afford to steal time for yourselves. In that relatively short period, you grew desperate to hear William softly sigh your name or to feel his fingers clutch at your hips. How could one person cast such a spell over another? 

Falling into his Lordship's embrace, you allowed him to begin to strip you bare. Soon, soft pleasured sounds were being muffled between your mouths and your hands roamed under William’s shirt. Both of you were too preoccupied with each other to notice heavy footsteps approaching the door. 

~ ~ ~ 

A kid. It was only a kid.

His eyes were wide and brimmed with tears, face ashen as he stumbled away from you. The deep scarlet of your blood stained his fingertips. You stared in disbelief at the younger man before your gaze dropped to the dagger’s ornate handle protruding awkwardly from your chest. Oh. Strangely, in that singular moment of time, the only thing that you could focus on was the initials engraved into the silver. You recognised them. Then, all at once, hot and cold flames burned through your torso and a broken cry was ripped from your throat. 

“Anthony! Someone, help!”

Everything felt out of step with reality. One second, your lover was whispering words of affection into your skin and, in the next, you had been attacked. This couldn’t be happening. More loud voices instantly filled the room whilst you were guided backwards onto the bed and William appeared beside you. His hands desperately tried to press the loose bed linens around the blade to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. The white material soon became dark and damp.

"You fool. You stupid, stupid fool." 

“I-I’m… Sorry.” 

There was no real anger behind William’s words. It took all of your strength to lift your hand and weakly wipe the tears from his cheek, trembling as you struggled to draw a full breath. This was it. If this was truly to be your final moments, all you wished was to spend it without fear in William’s arms. No more pretending that you weren’t in love with The Lord. Your fingers curled into the collar of William’s shirt as you attempted to pull him closer.

“I love… y-you… I Iov-v-ve… I…”

~ ~ ~

The service was simple. 

Every member of the household attended, including the student knights, dressed in full regalia, as they carried the coffin upon their shoulders. Colourful arrangements of Hydrangeas and Lillies sat in tall vases beside the headstone. Their vibrant hues did little to lighten the sombre mood. Master Schiavone had handled the business arranging the funeral as His Lordship was too overwhelmed by his grief to leave his study for any length of time.

Nobody spoke of the anguished sobs that could be heard through the door. Or how, in the rare moments that His Lordship emerged from his solitude, his face was gaunt and thin. It was understood that Lord Regal had lost an incredibly close companion and that was not questioned. 

Long after the proceedings had ended and the other mourners had disappeared, William remained standing at the grave. He wished he could crumble to the ground in a heap and scream until his throat was raw. When will this pain stop? It was torturous from the second that he wakes up in the morning to falling asleep at night. Master Schiavone made several attempts to ease some of the grief resting heavily on William’s shoulders. ‘Time is the healer of all necessary evils, Sir.’ Staring at the raised ground and the polished marble headstone, William couldn’t believe that time was the answer to this heartache.

Nothing was going to stop this hurt.

~

[gr4nd-entrance]

//im gonna try and be more active here!!! league muse kinda ran into the ground w/ my playtime since i got into final fantasy AND they like...killed pyke. Killed him dead. But I'm probably gonna cope soon and go back to playing since I still have Rakan....

[quandaryqueen]

Evermore I

Year One Jonathan Crane X Reader

Following the serial killer Scarecrow's pattern, Batman and Robin tracked down Crane's divorcee situated in Gotham in time to prevent any more deaths.

This piece is loosely based on the transgressions of the Year One Scarecrow comic. This piece will have multiple parts, so stay tuned.

The last you expected to greet you after a long day from work was the Batman and Robin standing in the middle of your apartment. What could you have done to possibly warrant the Bat to enter your apartment? The first thought that occured to you was to the ongoing faculty investigation in the school, the perpetrator responsible for the embezzlement that's yet to be solved, but then you remembered it's the Batman, why would he care about something as comparably small as that?

"Professor L/N?" Gotham's Dark Knight queries.

"Yes... That's me..." Still put off by their presence, you warily took your shoes off and put your bag aside. Just when you wanted to spend the night in peace and quiet, perhaps watch whatever program is on television, the Batman comes in waltzing. So much for a break.

"Have you been receiving anything strange? Seen anything?" Robin asks, comfortably seated on your couch.

You were too exhausted to deal with this. "May I at least get a drink of water first?"

Twelve weeks. Twelve weeks you've dealt with the constant abuse from a system that's far from saving and you stayed to encourage the new hope for the future to work better, smarter. Then there were the parents of the little rascals, whining at just about anything. Late nights you spent your miserable little self slaving away for the heaps and heaps of paper to be stomped and spat on by the next day. Then there were the unruly, spoiled little heads seated on their desks scoffing and throwing profanities at you for doing your job. Sometimes you had to keep yourself away from doing something, anything to the students. Lest should you follow your former husband's steps.

"Answer my question." Batman presses forward with firmness, that you'd be intimidated if it weren't for the fact you've been surviving off of three-hours worth of sleep.

"No. Nothing but letters from the school administration."

"Nothing at all? How about from Johnathan Crane?

The mention of his name had caught you in a chokehold. A name that you've forcibly pushed at the back of your mind, through lock and key, suddenly breaks free amid an encounter of the Dark Knight. His name slips from Batman's tongue like a spell, summonimg the memories you've buried along with your old self.

"Hello?" Robin's voice grounds you back, then realised had stood before you, waving his gloved hand before your face. "Woah, thought we lost you there for a second." He light-heartedly teasesz though there had been an underlying sense of anxiety that came with it.

"I-I'm sorry..." Your thumb instinctively reached to swipe under your eye, knowing there would be tears there. He was the only being that can ever make you cry and true to that word, there was a stray tear you smear away as evidence. "N-No... J-... He doesn't. Not since w-we... Um... Separated."

"What can you tell us about Crane?"

"I..." Gone was the stone wall you've established following after the tumultuous times you've been through at the last duration of your relationship with him. At the mention of his name, the walls you've built over the years gave weight and crumbled before the Bat. "We-... He and I-..." You didn't realise you needed to breathe until you sucked in a sharp breath, and how you needed the door behind your to stabilise yourself from the collapse of your legs.

The boy wonder took pity, holding your hand and leading you to take a seat on the couch. His eyes bore within your distant ones, noticing how ashen your complexion was.

Jonathan Crane... God you thought his name no longer had an effect on you. You've lost all sense of sentiment after the emotional pandemonium you've gone through with him. You thought you could support your own weight but then he comes along, not even in physical presence, and breaks you apart so seamlessly.

"Jonathan..." You finally spoke his name just above a whisper, with a certain fondness and hurt. His name was poisonous honey against your tongue but denied that you relish its pain. And the final hay in the stack that broke the camel's back, the dam in your eyes breaks and your face flooded with long-held emotions.

"I-I'm sorry—" you hid behind your palms in shame, your voice small from the tight restrictions of your sealing throat, shoulders shaking. You didn't even attempt to hide it anymore, rub your face raw until it's dry of tears, you just let it all out, but still in shame.

God, why now? Why are they here for him in the first place? What could he have possibly done to warrant a visit from the Batman?

"Why are you asking me that?" You were almost afraid to ask.

"Jonathan Crane is responsible for multiple counts if murder—" serial killing? Your Johnathan was now serial killer? "— at first he seems to have arbitrary targets, perhaps under the employment of criminals. But then he began targeting former colleagues. His former college professors, I believe you are familiar of them, you've worked as a professor with your former husband, correct?" You nodded. "All his victims are found dead, bound in duct tape and all had suffered a peculiar death of a heart attack. One of them suffered a delirious-induced death, his grandmother Marion Keeny, who had abandoned that name and adapted Francesca Olivia Dove. She hallucinated an attack and in an attempt to fend it off, hurt herself in the process. We manage to track you down after finding out about his identity. Their deaths have a common theme, an envelope containing a straw. Speak now of you have recently received something, Y/N. We are here to protect you."

The revelation had you closing your eyes. All at once it had hit you. Your Jonathan couldn't have done something like that, could it? No, there's just no way. He was kind, although a bit eccentric and odd, he wouldn't hurt anybody! He'd only take action against other if need be... No it couldn't be, that's not how he is. He could never!

"You're lying." Your voice held a little more conviction. "Someone's framing him, I'm sure of it! Jonathan could never! He is but a disturbed little boy back then and still he is, of course it would be obvious someone would pin those murders on him!"

"Professor L/N—"

"No! He couldn't have... He's..."

There was a moment you recall upon the mention of murder and Jonathan in one sentence. Back then, when told you about a bully. You can't remember the name but you can remember him and his one eye. Jonathan had confessed to you that he's had enough of the guy always taking his lunch money and so he had done something about it. He laced the bill with a certain concoction that had attracted birds to attack the bully, resulting for the kid to have permanent damage on his eye. God...

Your Jonathan is capable of murder. And Batman implies that you'd be next.

"Oh my god, John... He killed them... And I'm next?"

"It's only a speculation, Professor." Robin reassures.

"Tell me about your relationship with Crane."

Robin glances at Batman with a wince, having been sympathetic of you upon the sudden intrusion in your home and news about your former spouse possibly coming to kill you. Was it really the appropriate time to ask you about your previous affiliations with the serial killer?

For a moment you were silent. Then, you let out a shaky sigh, rubbing the bottom of your palm under your eye and sniffling.

"I met Johnathan at a Sunday when my family first moved into Georgia when I was nine years old. I specifically remember that it was a Sunday, because he came from the church after an early mass. I immediately noticed how miserable he looked compared to the other attending children there, as they ran around. I thought that a mass was something of a celebration, so I was confused why he wasn't. My parent/s taught me it was rude to ask whatever comes to mind, but a child's curiousity holds no bounds. I approached him and I was comfortable approaching him, he seems to be my age and I was correct. I greeted him with a hello and he timidly returns it, I told him my name and asked for his. Then I asked why he was sad. He said he didn't know. I was about to ask him if he wanted to play with me and my cousins, when this elderly woman approached us, furiously. I am normally comfortable around adults as they are people who are supposed to be watching over us, but the moment I saw her I felt scared.

It was Johnathan's great granny Keeny in her Sunday dress, snatching Johnathan by the wrist and hissing at him with a hushed voice, pinching him by his arm. I can't recall her words verbatim, but apparently Johnathan had absentmindedly walked away from granny Keeny whilst she was busily discussing with fellow church attendees. She didn't acknowledge me and they left, Johnathan being dragged by the wrist and he was barely keeping up with her. But he turned to wave goodbye at me. That's how we met."

To be continued →→→

[yostresswritinggirl]

request for your event? you being klee's older sibling and having to look after her, but when no one's around you're just as mischievous as her :))

It is time to give love to the cutest child in the game, the chaos incarnate herself skdbslbwka I always love these types of scenarios, and with a lot of material available, I went haywire sksksks

Geronimo!

Snippets of angst here and there, but Klee always makes things better! (masterlist)

Responsible, reliable, strong.

Strength seems to run in your family, as well the familiarity with the element of Pyro. Ever since your mother Alice left to venture into the world after the appearance of Albedo, things had been busier and tiring on your end.

You had to fend for you and Klee outside of the little pension the Knights provide. Unlike Klee and Alice, you were no Knight of Favonius, just a normal citizen that does commissions for the Adventurer's Guild while delving into whatever your heart desires. Because of your lack of connection, most of the income you get are from your own work and the bits of mora your mother has left in your care. Your Spark Knight little sister is well in the hands of the Knights, all accommodation handled by them.

A lot of the Knights and even citizens are quite fond of her anyways, and so in multiple care she's not neglected the slightest.

Your mind is at ease knowing that your sister is enjoying a comfortable life while you deal with the loss of a parental figure in silence.

One night as you slip in next to your little sister in her room within the headquarters, the room your mother had occupied before she left, Klee begged you in her half-conscious state to spend the day with her tomorrow even if just for the afternoon. Klee was no spoiled child, she barely asks for anything nor forces others to do her bidding, and this desperation of hers had you crumble as you agreed.

That night you felt more tired than usual. Questioning to yourself, 'have you been neglecting the last family you had?'

Jean felt more than relief when she heard that you'd taking Klee under your care for the day, offering your deepest apologies and gratitude for continuing to look after her in your place. But as Jean waves you two goodbye, she was naive to the chaos she had allowed to come together.

Instead of skipping commissions like you had planned, under the coaxing of your sister, you ended up doing them with her. "It would be fun, Klee will be good and help out too!" And she did, especially when it comes to disposing the creatures around the city.

You watched a Hilichurl fly up from a huge explosion, body spread out as it disappears behind a line of trees in the background. When you looked back down after the smoke disperses, there's a huge crater in the middle of the Hilichurl camp and many unconscious Hilichurls in general.

"Let me try it too!" "Yeeey, go, big sibling!" Picking up one of her smaller bombs she'd laid out on the ground for easy access, you pulled out your bow and hanged the bomb by its head with a piece of string.

"Do a spin, a 360!" "Whatever my sister wants," you started as you started shifting your body in a turn, arrow and string pulled back and ready for release, "Sheeee gets!" When you saw the familiar view of the camp, you angled your shot slightly upwards and released, arrow piercing through the air before immediately turning downward with the weight of the bomb.

You two looked over the cliff to watch the fire show below, arm wrapped around her form to make sure she doesn't fall, as the supposed tiny bomb produced a huge mushroom cloud that sent a gale of black smoke up to where you two watched.

"That was so cool!" "So cool!" You gave your sister a high five, both of your hair disheveled from the force with ashes littered all over your body.

Gliding down the cliff, you didn't give the charred camp much attention as you two sped past to your next commission.

Once you'd went with her to a faraway river when she said she wanted some fish toast. Not wanting her to use her bomb and cause some kind of fish extinction in Mondstadt, you eagerly jumped in the pond after discarding some of your important items and outer clothing, an arrow in hand as you chased and stab the bigger fish.

"Wah, big sis/bro! Behind you! A green scary fish is about to bite you!" "A what now?!"

After you turned, you've ended up wrestling against the jaws of a giant crocodile that strayed into the stream. It took a few minutes before Klee finally stepped in with her Pyro catalyst.

You swimmed a little more to wash away the ashes, cleaning up your sister's face with a wet cloth too from the earlier Hilichurl extermination.

You're not as popular or in the limelight as your sister, many Mondstadtians only ever know you as a simple citizens who deals with commissions, and so very few (select few knights too) know of your connections with the Spark Knight.

When Klee isn't rambling about her bombs, confinement or Albedo, she likes to brag about you. The best and hardworking family, always responsible and witty that you manage to get away with anything. She proudly announces she wants to be as smart as you too, both clauses somehow sending worry to the Knights in fear of Klee and whatever you're capable of.

Despite your respectful smiles and composed appearance, your energy and genius stems from your unhinged mother. The best and worst part about it tho, is that you don't need to report to any higher ups about your experimentations and findings.

"If we lure in a Cryo slime here," you said with a gesture to the net set up by the catapult, "this catapult would sling it over to the field fire the whopperflower made!"

"Do you get it?" "Yes, yes! Klee will deliver a nice and big Cryo slime!" You watched as she took off with that cute run of hers, and not even a minute passes that she comes running back over the slope-

"That's one- two, three, four- five?! KLEE WE ONLY NEEDED ONE SLIME- AHHHHH!"

An adult and a baby Cryo slime got caught in the net which immediately triggered the catapult's mechanism. In the distance you watched them bounce off the flames, also effectively crushing the flower itself under their weight.

Leaving you two to deal with remaining slimes, which was easy with your precise shots and Klee's destructive power. You two escaped death with a few bruises from the bouncing abominations, your catapult broken amidst the encounter.

"(Y/N) is the best big sibling I could ever have! So fun to play with especially! Even if Klee misses them a lot, Klee knows that they're doing it for the best!" Kaeya and Jean awed at the way Klee speaks so fondly of you after getting cleaned up for rest, while you showered during this time in her room's bath. "Klee wants to be as cool as them!"

"What's this?" You emerged from the doorway with a towel around your shoulder, your appearance causing your little sister to jump down from Kaeya's arms to run into yours. "You little mischief, sneaking out of the room to disturb the Acting Grand Master and the Captain!"

"I wanted to talk to them about how fun and cool you are!" Klee giggled when you booped noses, the two older figures in the room chuckling fondly at the sweet scene.

"Perhaps you could look into joining our ranks? There's always a room for you in the Knights, someone as reliable as you would be helpful in protecting Mondstadt," Jean's smile echoes through her words of offer as she looks at you inquisitively, making you gulp at the idea.

You wanted to refuse, for many, many reasons really. But Klee's bright, wide eyes at the thought of finally being in the same place as you for possibly 24/7, tells you you couldn't really refuse.

It was only three months after being a knight that Jean finally realized the deep and ashen crater by Starsnatch Cliff was created by you and Klee's combined efforts. She stares warily as she sees your form pass by the cracked open door to her office, Klee towed behind you as you walk hand in hand with big smiles.

Mondstadt's walls shook that day.

Klee is actually my little sister's favorite character in Genshin. I was tempted to merge this with another ask, but no, I must hold myself.

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop

[moved-to-void-kissed]

🌙🌙 hi hello i would like to ask abt any thoughts of the pyra/sapphire wedding (or anything relating to it, like postgame ideas) and also catarina/hapi reunion after the timeskip !!! or anything just regarding to the two ships is amazing i love hearing abt them ♥️

Clara, my dear friend, my fellow denizen of Xeno hell's 2 and TTGC divisions, I got half a sentence into this ask as soon as I got home from work and it broke me. I proceeded to remain flustered for the entire rest of the day. You did this to me /lh

(source: this post by nougatships)

Give me a 🌙 in my inbox and I’ll give you a random headcanon about my selfship, F/O, or self-insert. - Right, okay, let's give you what you're asking for.

For the first moon..

As you mention, Pyra and Sapphire do indeed canonically get married. I was going to say that this is actually the only one of my romantic selfships where I have actually established this, but that's actually not the case - Skye and Emily also get married as part of the story too. Pyra is the one who proposes to Sapphire, using one of her earrings in lieu of an actual ring, under the aurorae on the last night the party spends in the Leftherian Archipelago (so, near the start of Chapter 5).

However, due to the fairly high stakes of the current objective, i.e. stopping Malos and Torna, we don't actually get married until after the game ends, by which time both of us have also successfully obtained the blessing of the other's father (which is not as easy as it sounds when Pyra's father is the Architect, literal half-omnipotent creator of Alrest and sole surviving remnant of his universe left in it. Yes, this means Sapphire took the time to stay behind and ask him if it was okay for her to marry Pyra right before rushing off to the final boss fight).

Although I don't have much set in stone for the actual wedding itself, I think I still like the idea of it taking place in the Olethro Playhouse. You can see the World Tree (where Pyra is from), but are in Uraya (where Sapphire grew up). It’s also a very grand place, even if Malos did destroy half of it, and it has some significance to the Aegis Blades in general because it’s where Addam first awakened Mythra.

Haze officiates, because a combination of Sapphire’s ether crystallisation ability restoring her Core Crystal and Nia’s cell regeneration powers (which can resurrect people, as Chapter 6 shows) allow her to be revived as a special separate entity from any Driver in my version of events.

For the second moon..

I’m actually not 100% sure if my (or rather, Catarina's) reunion with Hapi post-timeskip still takes place anymore, because of how I have now established that Catarina spends her time bringing supplies to Abyss (where Hapi stays) over the course of the timeskip. So, technically, we wouldn’t need to reunite if both of us had been allowed to join Byleth’s house.

However, although Catarina is one of the Ashen Wolves and this would normally mean she does not ever appear as an enemy after the timeskip, I was considering having her appear as part of forces loyal to the Kingdom if she was not recruited into Byleth’s house, since her family on her mother’s side is from Faerghus and her older sister lives there (she would appear too, specifically as a Falcon Knight). Therefore, there is potential for her to be fought as an enemy at some point; I’m envisioning it as if you kill her sister then Catarina will be enraged and fight to the death herself, but if you defeat Catarina first then she will retreat instead (possibly being recruitable on Verdant Wind, like Lysithea is on Crimson Flower) and her sister will also retreat, so that you can still do Catarina’s Paralogue.

A reunion on the battlefield between Hapi and Catarina would thankfully not be as angsty as it could have potentially been, since Hapi is very averse to fighting to the death as shown by her voicelines while Catarina is not particularly especially loyal to the Kingdom as a whole, instead more being in it for her family’s sake. So, if she was offered the chance of joining Byleth’s forces, she would definitely take it for her own safety, and Hapi would of course be very relieved by this.

That’s about all I’ve got for the moment.

I hope that these answers were alright!! Sorry for the wait on finishing writing them, friend.

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 8]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“reality may be better than a dream“

He isn’t sure when he woke back up or how long it had been since he fell asleep, but his cheek is squished up against something and he is in a horizontal position. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, realizing he is staring past the edge of a pair of tanned legs decorated with thin black lines of fishnets which are also digging into his cheek. His eyes widen, lips parting a tiny bit when he realizes he’d tipped over in his sleep, laying his head on Cora’s hip. His hand had slid from her cheek and curled against the back of her neck, cradling her head in his palm. He swallows hard, unsure if he should move and risk waking her up or stand as still as he possibly can. On one hand, he doesn’t want her thinking he willingly invaded her personal space, but then again she’s bound to find out, seeing as how moving would result in waking her up and if he remained in his current position, she’s still gonna wake up sooner or later and find him awkwardly looking at her, silently praying she doesn’t lose her cool at him.

What is a guy to do?

Her arms are still wrapped snugly around his thigh, sleeping peacefully in the dark room illuminated only by the Netflix menu. 

It must be later than I thought, he thinks to himself as he stretches his free leg out to his phone, tapping the screen with his sock covered toe to discover it’s 6:48pm. Jesus, we’ve slept for almost two hours. 

The sun is still glowing but is now significantly lower in the sky, indicating they’d have a little bit of daylight left but it would be quick to slip past them if Cora doesn’t wake up anytime soon. What if she wanted to leave before it got dark? I should probably wake her up, no? I mean, there’s also the possibility that she didn’t and I’d just be disturbing her for no reason and I of course don’t want that….Ugh, fuck, why is something this simple so complicated?!

Doing his best not to jostle her, Corpse carefully pushes himself up using his hands which he’s propped up on the back of the couch. Once upright, he carefully eases his hand out from under her head and brushes a few stray dark locks away from her face where they had formed a curtain over her closed eyes. His voice cracks as he tries to speak so it comes out more as an unsure murmur. 

“Cora. Hey, come on, wake up.” He whispers, trying to be gentle as he nudges her shoulder. 

She lets out a soft distressed noise at the fact that someone dared to interrupt her sleep. Her arms tighten around his leg and she rubbed her cheek into his thigh, indicating that he’s not going anywhere with this mellowness, 

“Mmm...five more minutes…” she mutters, making his cheeks burn as she snuggles up even tighter into him.  

With a defeated sigh he leans back, fixating his gaze on the TV and smiles a tiny bit, feeling that by now familiar, warm sensation in his chest and stomach - the one he feels whenever he takes her hand or gets a text from her. “Alright, five minutes.” He settles, leaning back further on the couch, unlocking his phone, beginning to browse Instagram quietly and then checking his email afterwards. 

He soon finds he’s lost track of time but eventually it definitely starts feeling like more than five minutes have passed, and so Corpse decides to take some action. Bowing his head down, he shakes her shoulder again. “Alright, come on, Sleeping Beauty, it's time to get up. I’m hungry and I gotta pee and I’m done with being held hostage.”

Her head tips slightly to the side, eyes still closed as she turns to face the ceiling. A sly little smirk dances on her lips before it falls when she goes back to pretending to be consumed by her blissful slumber. Her voice arises from her throat as a playful whisper, 

“Something-something can only be awoken with the kiss of a strong knight.” 

Corpse feels his stomach do a backflip and his face starts burning as the color of his cheeks, ears and neck switches to a bright shade of red, eyes growing wide when he registers what she just said. “I’m...um-...” He stutters, his throat suddenly dry and coarse as sandpaper.

Cora opens one eye just a slit, spotting his frantic blushing before closing it again. “Or even just a dude lost in the woods if the knight is unavailable.”

He swallowed again, desperately trying to fish out any words and let them leave his mouth. Despite his attempts to calm himself down, his hands go clammy and his heart has taken to hitting the inside of his ribcage with the intensity of an angry dragon, threatening to break through and leave his body. 

She isn’t really suggesting this, right? It’s a joke, it has to be. Haha, make Corpse look like a dumbass, won’t that be hilarious.

Interrupting his thoughts, one of her hands squeezes the back of his knee while the other comes up to link her pinky finger with his own. He stares down at her, flustered as all hell, catching that one eye open again. His face is the epitome of questioning, puzzled and….hopeful? He can’t afford to be getting hopeful, not when there’s still the option that she’s messing with him. That’s why he has to know. His eyes are begging her to tell him what’s going on here or if there’s anything going on at all. He wants her to either break this magic or carry it out completely to where it’s enveloped and surrounded them both. He wants something, anything, even the tiniest signal from her, just to put his mind at ease and his racing heart to rest.

His breath hitches when Cora slides her hand out from under his leg. Defeat spreads throughout his chest like a wildfire when he thinks she’s about to pull away. 

I knew it! I knew she’s just fucking around, she’d never w-!

His brain stops firing neurons of panic when he feels a hand rest on the back of his neck and he suddenly realizes he’s being pulled down slightly, the figure across his lap raising to connect their lips halfway. 

He freezes, eyes wide and nearly watering in panic at the sudden contact that he was far from prepared for. However, Cora wouldn’t be Cora if she just let him sit there and panic so she immediately reacts, squeezing his hand so that his instincts would kick in. When they finally do, his hand comes up to gently cup her face, allowing himself to melt into the kiss. He kisses her slowly, savoring the feeling of her lips against his - warm and soft against his chapped ones. His thumb brushes slowly across her cheekbone, subconsciously memorizing every spot and tiny line etched into her skin. 

She’s the first to pull back but they don’t stay apart for long seeing as how she’s quick to sit up higher and press her lips back against his, hand cradling his head as both their bodies buzz with heat. His arm automatically wraps around her torso, the palm of his hand resting on her back to keep her close, deepening the kiss.

His chest is aching with happiness, eyes brimmed with tears of joy and relief he hopes won’t spill for her to see. He just can’t help himself, it all feels so overwhelming and surreal. The feeling that he’s had living within him since their lunch date has finally fallen into place. It finally makes sense and he can finally be at peace with it. That’s the biggest relief he’s felt in a long while. She’s his check point, his safe haven and his relief. She’s become so much to him in such a short amount of time. It goes without saying she’s incredibly special.

He draws back after a moment and inhales shakily, his whole body shaking in shock. 

“Holy shit.” He whispers, eyes wide as he carefully moves his hands away from her face. 

Cora’s cheeks are pink as she smiles faintly and nods in agreement. “Sorry...I hope that was okay.” She mumbles, looking away shyly but not for long. Corpse tilts her head, turning it to face him once again as he leans in to press his lips firmly against hers, eyes closing slowly yet again. She brings her body closer to his and Corpse could swear he felt the Earth stop spinning. The rest of the world has stopped existing. Nothing matters but this moment, right now. This kiss shared between them, this contact between them, addictive like a drug.

They spend a few minutes just kissing slowly, enjoying every second of it, savoring it with a small fear they might never repeat this though they really hope they do. 

He alternates between cupping her cheek and neck to holding her hands. The whole experience is just so warm and deep and meaningful, but tame at the same time. They don’t dissolve into a frantic mess, they kept their pace, moving in sync, reminding each other that this is not a dream. This is better than any dream could ever be.

He breaks away first, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest. “Do-...do you need to go home?” He blurts out softly, fingers laced with hers, the question so out of place for the setting.

“Oh, is my kissing so bad you want to kick me out?” She asks with a smile so small but so bright it warms him internally. 

He laughs a deep breathy laugh, looking at her with affection. He can't help it, he’s intoxicated by her. Before, it would have been a totally different experience for him: frantic backpedaling on what he’d said but something feels...good with her here. It feels so right and it keeps him grounded in the current moment, refusing to allow him running the conversation and events back in his head.

“No, you’re perfect…” he admits softly, a little anxious with those words but accepting them as truth because that’s what they are. “I just thought….”

“Is that what that burning smell is?” She teases again, perhaps hiding her own nervousness behind jokes, before she kisses him softly. 

“I thought, if you wanted to stay the night....I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” He manages to say, pulling away from her briefly, the backs of his fingers drawing a soft line across her cheek. He pulls away further suddenly, realizing that may be a bit too romantic. They just kissed, and still haven’t spent such a big amount of time together. With these thoughts in mind, he hurries to add: “If not, it’s okay…”

She’s quick to shake her head, dismissing his worries, “I want to stay, but you’re not sleeping on the couch. What, are you afraid I’ll give you cooties?” She teases, squeezing his hands and leaning in to affectionately headbutt his shoulder. 

He smiled and winds his arms around her in a tight hug, releasing her when she pulls away. “Alright, but I’m hungry, and I still need to piss.” He declares, standing up and stretching to loosen and relax his stiff joints, starting to make his way to the bathroom. “Think about what you want for dinner!”

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen

[vectorfrankenstein]

“Whoa, hey, you okay there?” For Merlin & elyan? If that is alright with you

of course it’s alright anon 🥺 💖 thank you for the prompt! i’m sorry for how long this took, but i hope you like it! 

read here on ao3 or under the cut! <3 

Elyan was walking at a brisk pace through the castle corridors, anxious to change from his heavy armor into a comfortable tunic after a long day of patrols and training. If he hurried, he might still find time to visit Gwen before she went to bed. He wasn’t in the mood for the loud chatter and teasing of his fellow knights, and the prospect of an evening with his sister in the house they used to share far outshone the often stilted conversations with the knights he still had yet to grow fully comfortable around.

So it was this combined weariness and eagerness that caused him to nearly miss the figure lying on the floor in the dim light provided by the flickering torches and the setting sun.

Elyan stopped, hearing a muffled sound come from the figure, who, upon closer inspection, he recognized as Arthur’s manservant. “Merlin?” He thought Merlin should be up in Arthur’s chambers by now, preparing him for bed.

A soft moan was all he received in response, and Elyan grew concerned. “Whoa, hey, you ok there?”

After getting no answer beyond a tiny shake of the head from Merlin, Elyan crouched down and placed a hand on the servant’s shoulder, turning him slightly towards him to get a better look. Merlin looked on the verge of unconsciousness. His face was white as a sheet, and the dark shadows settled under his eyes made a stark contrast against this ashenness.

Elyan shook Merlin’s shoulder, relieved when he finally opened his eyes. Merlin looked at Elyan and flushed a little in embarrassment, but looked too exhausted to say anything. He began to struggle to his feet, and Elyan instinctively reached his arm out, prepared to steady him. Merlin stood at last, swaying as he looked up at Elyan.

“I - I don’t know what happened, I was taking up the laundry for Arthur -“ Merlin’s speech was mumbled and low so Elyan missed most of it. Elyan’s brow furrowed in confusion until he saw the laundry basket overturned a few feet away on the floor, the king’s royal garments spilling out from it.

“You’re not well.” He paused, tilting his head, already knowing the answer before he asked, “You haven’t been drinking, have you?” He hated asking it in the first place, but he didn’t know Merlin well enough yet like the other knights did; Arthur was always referencing Merlin’s excursions to the tavern, but Elyan could now see his condition was more than drunken unsteadiness and nausea.

At Merlin’s violent protests, Elyan nodded and smiled reassuringly. “I didn’t think so. Come on, Merlin, I’ll take you to Gaius before you fall asleep walking down a flight of stairs.”

“‘m fine,” Merlin said.

“Sure you are,” Elyan said amusedly, wrapping an arm around Merlin’s waist to keep him steady. Merlin seemed to grow more alert with the movement, and he turned to Elyan. His gaze sharpened for a moment as he adjusted to his new position, and he attempted to shrug away from Elyan’s hold. Elyan cautiously let him, but was there in time to catch him when Merlin began to sink back to the floor and collapse after a couple of steps.

“Oh, just let me help you,” Elyan said, a little less gentle and more exasperated as he helped Merlin stand again. “Merlin, when was the last time you slept?” Thinking about it, Elyan didn’t think he’d seen Merlin off-duty for the last week, at least. He’d thought it was because of how busy he’d been with his duties as a knight, but looking at the laundry basket overflowing with Arthur’s clothes, he saw how hard Merlin must be working. He knew that with every latest attempt on Arthur’s life by sorcerers and enemies of Camelot, everyone had additional responsibilities to better maintain and protect the castle and its inhabitants.  

Merlin shrugged and let out a low laugh that had the subtlest note of bitterness. “It hardly matters how much I sleep until we’re sure Camelot’s safe again.”

“It does when you’re working yourself sick,” Elyan said with a fond sigh. He couldn’t help but worry, though. In his time traveling alone, Elyan had experienced a healthy amount of sleep-deprivation firsthand. More than once he’d had to stay awake all night while camping out in the forest to protect himself from bandits, or trekked nonstop for days after accidentally getting caught up in some trouble in another village. He thought he saw the symptoms in Merlin now, though he knew it would be best for Gaius to make a proper diagnosis.

“I’m alright, I just needed a moment to clear my head,” Merlin murmured, beginning to close his eyes again and lean more heavily on Elyan as they walked.

“Mm, I can see that,” Elyan said, containing another sigh as Merlin bumped his head against his chin. Supporting the taller man was growing more difficult with each passing second. “Let’s just get you in bed.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said, leaning his head on Elyan’s shoulder. “Perhaps not how you wanted to spend your night?”

Elyan softened, and shook his head with a smile. “Don’t be a fool. I might have to wait a little longer to see Gwen, but she’ll understand - you know that already, I’m sure.”

Merlin let out what sounded halfway between a laugh and a yawn in agreement, and they continued their slow plodding walk through the castle for the warmth of Gaius’ chambers and the promise of rest.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

FAREWELL

Pairing: FFXV NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 1.446

Warnings: angst; angst oh and bittersweet angst, I guess that's all...

ATTENTION: THIS MIGHT CONTAIN SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED KINGSGLAIVE! SO, READING ON YOUR OWN RISK!

Synopsis: While Nyx is fighting he wanted you to be safe. But you know that something is wrong and so, you hurry to see Nyx again before it is too late...

"Where are you Nyx?", you sighed annoyed, checking the time on your watch for the hundredth time. For thirty minutes, you were impatiently pacing up and down on the pavement in front of the Hammerhead diner. Sand was already covering your shoes and pants and small clouds of dust were wavering through the air from your stomping around while you were looking out for Nyx who wanted to meet you there.

Which was odd in the first place because none of you barely left Insomnia. It was odd to meet in the middle of nowhere in the sandy outskirts. And mostly, it was odd because the sun was almost setting. Once again, you checked the sky, the sun had almost disappeared behind a mountain chain and then you saw it - countless ships of Niflheim troops flying towards Insomnia in the light of the setting sun.

You knew something was more than wrong.

Something told you that Nyx wouldn't come.

Because Nyx was still there...in Insomnia.

*

"YN! What are you doing here?", Libertus called out, closing up on you followed by Luna as you tried to make your way back into the city.

"Where's Nyx?", you just asked, scanning the area to find him somewhere near even if you already knew the answer.

A loud bang echoed through the destroyed streets as a giant creature rammed its fist into a giant demon. You stepped forward with big eyes. You never had seen a demon before. You just knew them from the stories Nyx had told you from his battles at the wall. You had to admit, the sight was more than frightening. But the other creature, a giant knight, was scary as well until, on top of the shoulder, a figure with long, blue ribbons and encircled by magical aftermath appeared.

You knew who it was therefore you started to run.

Libertus tried to grab your shoulder or at least, your wrist to stop you but you wiggled out of his grip skillfully, "YN, no! It's too dangerous!", he called out but you were already on your way into the heart of the Crown's City.

While the demon and the last remaining fighter of the old wall left a swath of destruction, you tried to find a way to reach Nyx’ position. It wasn’t difficult to find him in the end, it was just not very easy to get on top of the skyscraper Nyx had to be. You climbed the endless stairs up as if the devil was chasing you. You dodged debris which was falling next to you in a hallway but finally, you reached the door that opened to the rooftop, "Nyx!", you called out half relieved and out of breath after the long way you had left behind.

"Y-YN? No...", Nyx breathed disbelievingly as he saw you running towards him.

With tears in your eyes, you slumped on your knees, kneeling next to Nyx - the man you loved so undyingly, "Wh-what happened?", you asked concerned as you saw his state. His skin looked burned, smouldering traces were drawing through his skin. He seemed to be ashen with small flakes falling apart from him carried by the soft wind.

"You shouldn't be here.", Nyx said softly. He should be mad, he should be furious but everything he felt was just love and happiness to see your beautiful eyes and face for the very last time.

Your eyes were flickering over his appearance, still trying to understand what was going on with him before you placed your hand on his chest very softly, "Why have you sent me away?", you whispered, your voice already hoarse with upcoming tears.

Nyx’ eyes softened, "I wanted you to be safe. But again, you didn't listen to me. I should have known that.", he scolded softly as he saw a few scratches on your neck before he smiled, "But I'm happy that you're here."

"I should have been by your side, Nyx! I should have been with you from the start!", you cried out helplessly, realizing that this was a farewell from him.

But Nyx smiled softly and shook his head, "No, you shouldn't and that was the plan. YN, I love you so damn much. To know that you were safe gave me the strength to do what I had to do.", he said and leant against your touch with closed eyes as you cupped his cheek carefully with a shaking hand.

"But... But what have you even done?", you asked confused. Shocked, you watched how Nyx slowly ashened even more as the sun rose up as if he was myserically connected with the dawn of the new day.

Nyx looked you back in the eyes. There were tears running down your cheeks and he knew, even if he would wipe them away more were about to come, "I fought for the future. A future I couldn't show my sister. But I wanted to make sure that you get the future you deserve."

Shaking by his words, you leant forward, resting your forehead against his just to notice that he already felt ice cold, "Nyx, I... I can't live without you. I can't have a future without you. You are my future.", you whispered with a voice thick with tears.

While cupping your face with his hand, he stroked over your soft skin with his thumb, saving this feeling for the afterlife as one of the endless memories he already had stored about you, "And I wanted to spend my life with you, believe me. Getting old with you. But things change. After all, I'm still the hero of the Glaive.", he joked with a wink to see you smile once again.

You cried even more violently by his bitter sweet words spoken by his soft voice you would never hear again in the future. Weakly, you tried to smile a bit more, "You did a great job, hero. On my way to you, I met Luna and Libertus. They have made it."

Nyx relaxed, "Good. Join them. Their journey is long and hard. They need all the support they can get on their way.", he asked you and you promised with a nod, "And I... I'm so looking forward to meeting my sister.", he said with a soft smile.

"Greet her from me.", you breathed, speaking wasn't possible anymore.

"I will! And together, we will watch over you and the others.", Nyx promised solemnly and with his hand, he guided your face closer to him, "I will always be with you, YN. I will always be with you no matter where you are.", he said with a smile before he kissed you so softly and so sweetly.

You didn't care for anything anymore because the love of your life was already dying. You flung your arms around his neck to kiss him even deeper. Nyx chuckled softly about your showing affection. He would miss getting kissed by you. He would miss your arms around his body. He would miss to feel your skin under his hands so much and so, he kissed you to tell you all this with just his lips. You melted against Nyx like you were used to until the sun was above the skyline and he was lying lifeless in your arms.

Softly, you laid him down on the ground, breaking down on him and crying against his chest for several more minutes before you remembered the promise you had given to him. With quivering lips, you pressed a last soft kiss on the hero's forehead, stroking softly over his hair for the very last time with a shaking hand, "Sleep tight, my love. We will see each other again. I love you, Nyx Ulric. I always will. And I promise, I will make you proud."

An upcoming breeze played with your hair, tickling your skin in a way only Nyx had done and you knew, he was with you like he had promised. Even if he wasn't there anymore, you knew he would never leave your side.

As you stood up, letting your eyes roam over the destroyed city, you already felt Nyx' presence around you and that he was watching over you. A cloud formation in the sky resembled Nyx, his sister and his mother. All three, they were standing side by side, smiling down at you with the most fondly expression you had ever seen on Nyx’ face.

Yes, Nyx might be gone but you would fight. You would fight for the future he started to create. You would fight for the future he wanted you to have. Because this was why the hero had died for: the future.

[mrslittletall]

For the Ship Ask Game: Ciaran/Artorias, Gehrman/Maria, Laurence/Ludwig, Ashen One/Fire Keeper, hoo boy, the list would go on if I got into any Ornstein or NK ships or more BB! I'm so sorry for the longer list which I know is mostly positive, feel free to choose whichever. I am so curious about your ships in general, but the questions the meme asks for these ones fascinates me.

Ship Meme

Alright then, let’s tackle it!

Ciatorias

Ship it

What made you ship it? The implication of the game. It seems like Ciaran had a crush on Artorias and maybe even a relationship with him? It feels telling that she followed him to Oolacile and even gave up being a knight after his death. 

What are your favorite things about the ship?

Size difference again. Also, Artorias is that huge himbo and Ciaran is that tiny snarky assassin. They just play well with each other. Also, Ciaran can be a bit tsundere with him and Artorias always falls for it. If Ornstein sees it, he has a hard time not laughing, confusing Artorias even more. 

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Probably that Ciaran is straight, because it is an unpopular opinion to headcanon a character as straight here on tumblr. 

Gehrmaria

Ship it

What made you ship it? SPITE.

What are your favorite things about the ship? Maria and Gehrman are pretty much equals in terms of strength and they show it even in their relationship. Nobody of them is really dominant or submissive, both when it comes to sex and their general dynamics. They are a true power couple and it is said that beasts shiver on the street when they appear together.  Also, Gehrman can get really adorkable around Maria. Sometimes they like to team up to tease Laurence, but Maria normally stops it when she sees that he gets to upset ^^ Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Pretty much that I ship it. A lot of people are very against that ship. I don’t care. They are cute and I ship them. They have a six year age difference in my verse, you weirdos. Don’t force your headcanons on me.  LauLu

Ship it

What made you ship it? They are kinda like knight and prince. Laurence as the head of the church, a genius but not a good fighter, and Ludwig as his paladin. 

What are your favorite things about the ship? Laurence can let himself feel completely at ease when with Ludwig. He doesn’t have to be the Vicar then, doesn’t have to worry about the beastly scourge or to keep up his image. He just loves to sit on Ludwig’s lap and cuddle with him or take walks with him or goes out with him to have some tea in a tea house. Because Ludwig is seen as his body guard, nobody bats an eye about them being seen together. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? That ship is pretty popular, but I don’t think I have any unpopular opinions about it. Ashen One/Fire Keeper

What made you ship it? Various fanfiction. I also kinda like the dynamic they have, but like it even more when Ashen One makes Fire Keeper feel like more than their servant.

What are your favorite things about the ship? Fire Keeper learning to let go and love. She is so caught in her duty, that she doesn’t feel a lot of emotions at first, purely seeing the Ashen One as the means to an end. It is when they start to give her gifts, spend time with her, braid her hair etc, that she starts to think more fondly about thim. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? I don’t think so. 

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Fluff on MC taking Helena to a Ren Faire?

Trigger Warning: Reference to abuse

***

I smile at the memories that flood my mind as I slowly pulled Helena's old cloak out from of the back of the closet. The smell of wet earth and campfire fills my senses as I lay it out onto the bed, pulling out the light brown tunic that hung behind it next. It seemed like an entire lifetime ago -  yet, just yesterday - since the last time we had worn them.

"Hm? What is all this for, My Love?" Helena says as she walks into the room, immediately tracing her fingers softly over the soft dark fabric of her cloak. A small smile of fondness reaches her mouth, and my heart can't help but swell.

"Sorry, babe. It's a surprise." I say. She beams at the last word and moves closer to me.

"I still remember the day you picked this out for me." She says warmly. "You looked at me like no one else ever had. You were the first person to ever truly see me, you know."

"Lucky me." I say with a smirk, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. "Now, let's hurry up and get these on. Sophie will be here any minute."

She stares at me inquisitively for a moment and then hums, walking over to the bed as she takes the soft fabric into her hands. I can't help but stare as she begins to strip from her daily wear, and magically transforms into the woman who originally stole my breath away. The woman who didn't know her true worth, who battled her inner demons day after day until she finally found peace. She catches me staring and I blush. Her sapphire eyes turning hungry as she realizes the affect this is having on me.

"If you keep looking like that at me, my love, we will never make it to this mysterious surprise of yours." The promise in her tone makes me blush even harder and I quickly start changing into my tunic before I can change my mind, her eyes never leaving me until the last strap is fastened.

"Well.. let's get going. Sophie's downstairs." I say quickly.

I make it about half way to the door before Helena stops me - bringing me into a heated kiss as she wraps her arms around me. It takes everything in me not to immediately undress her, not to immediately take her right then and there, to write my love into her skin - but the joy I knew she was about to feel gives me the strength to finally pull away.

"As you wish, my love." She says with a laugh as she takes my hand is hers and leads us out of the apartment.

Sophie gives us a wide grin from inside of the car. She’s wearing the outfit Solaire gifted her for the wedding, and I can’t help but smile.

"You girls ready?" She asks as Helena and I get into the car.

"You bet!" I exclaim, unable to hold my excitement back any longer.

Helena simply hums as she leans into the back seat - always so completely content to sit back and watch the scenery of the world pass her by. Every so often her curiosity would get the best of her and she'd inquire about something interesting that she had never seen before, and I was always more than happy to answer her. The incredible growth she had gone through since coming to this world was one to be truly inspired by. She was finally beginning to see her worth, and I would spend the rest of my life making sure she felt it everyday. I can't help the extreme surge of excitement that passes through my body as we finally make it to our destination. This would be a day that Helena would certainly not forget.

"Are you ready, babe?" I ask as I turn to face her. She smiles at me fondly and nods.

"Always, my love. I would follow you anywhere."

I blush slightly at her affections, always disarmed with how she could turn a phrase. We exit the car and I take her hand in mine, eagerly leading her through the parking lot and towards the large wooded area in front of us. A giant wooden sign that read KING RICHARD'S FAIRE stood above the entry way.

"Helena. I have a feeling you're going to feel quite a bit at home in here." I give the woman at the gate our tickets and Helena's eye widen with a sort of awe inspiring joy.

"What... what is this place?" She asks barely above a whisper.

"This, babe, is a renaissance faire. It's basically the closest thing we have to your world... only without the magic, unfortunately." I take her arm in mine and start to lead her through the crowded faux cobble stone walk way.

"How incredible.. It literally could be taken directly out of the human realms." She says as she slowly takes in all of her surroundings. The smell of caramel apples and turkey legs fills the air as I lead her over towards the large shopping area.

"I figured we could look around for a bit before the jousting match begins." I say, stopping at a shop with a particularly large selection of beautiful hand made rings. The smooth wood and polished stones so carefully inlayed into each one, reminded me of my own ring. I smile as I run my fingers over it - the wood slightly worn now, but the feelings it invoked were just as strong as the first day Helena had slipped it on my finger. 

"Come on, girl. I need a turkey leg, and now." Sophie says abruptly before running off towards the food vendors. I laugh as I'm sufficiently pulled from my day dreams and follow after her. The smells are delicious and thoroughly overwhelming to the senses. My mouth waters as we finally catch up to her, and I take Helena's arm in mine.

"What are you thinking, babe?" I ask her, squeezing her hand gently. I watch as her pensive eyes scan their way across the many fair delicacies, catching the glint in her eyes as they land on a vendor selling fresh meat pies.

"Do those not remind you of our first meal together, My Love? After we escaped?" She asks the words so casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. To escape her abuser - her literal demons - the woman who made her kneel until her knees were black. Even after all these years, her strength still astounded me. Blinking back a few tears, I give her a nod and begin to lead the way.

"Of course. I still remember that day like it was yesterday." I give her a warm smile as we take our place in line.

"It is amazing how detailed everyone's costume here is. You would not know they were not from my world." She takes a moment to scan the crowd and I do too -. My eyes immediately falling on a woman who's costume could only be described as epic. Her ashen skin so meticulously painted - brilliantly accented the silver and purple hues that intertwined through the complex braids that decorated her hair. The four arms she adorned moved with ease, remarkably realistic to the untrained eye. The sultry lines of her face only slightly obscured by a black lace veil that covers it. A beautiful red head stood next to her, dressed regal enough to be royalty - her arm tightly wrapped around the woman's waist. The love in their eyes was undeniable - unwavering - and I couldn't help but smile. They were chatting with a gorgeous dark haired woman - who looked entirely unenthused - emerald tips flowing down her shoulders, and a petite woman who stood next to her - wearing a scowl on her face, and the most flawlessly painted flowers I had ever seen put on a person's body.

"Their costumes are incredibly well done, no?" Helena asks, looking over at the same group of people.

"You could say that again, babe." I reply with a laugh, just in time for a set of silvered eyes to lock onto mine through the intricate designs of a thin veil. I can feel a slight blush rise to my cheeks as the woman smirks - giving me a small wink before turning back to her party. Helena catches the exchange and smiles.

"The woman has excellent taste, at least." She says fondly, and I feel the blush start to grow darker.

"A-anyways.. We should go find Sophie. The jousting tournament is about to begin." Helena gives me an inquisitive look, and I continue. "It's like a Knight’s sparring match. Complete with horses.”

She gives me a small hum and we make our back through the crowds. We find Sophie talking with a group of guys dressed like elves, each one of them completely enamored with her. I laugh to myself and wave her over to us before heading towards the other side of the fair ground. Helena's excitement only grows with each vendor we pass, with each specialty food that reminds her of home. It was heartwarming to me that she could still look back on that place with such fondness. A place that once held so much darkness and pain for her, so much hopelessness and death - Now could be a place of warmth. We didn't get to visit the others often, but Helena always treasured it when we did.

We get to the outside arena just in time for the show to begin. Everyone in the crowd had a flag to wave - blue for one knight, and red for the other. I buy Helena a red one before the three of us take our seats. The crowd around us, a sea of red flags, cheers as their opponent enters the arena, with loud boos and hisses as the Blue Knight takes their spot. The look in Helena's eyes is one of pure wonder and joy as the two knights begin their battle. Round after round until finally, much to the crowds dismay, the Red Knight falls. The Blue Knight, sits up proudly on his horse, with a smug smile on his face as he addresses the crowd.

"Your mighty knight hath fallen! Is there any just commoner that would like to avenge his death!? Anyone who will duel for his honor?"

His voice bellows across the crowd as they all remain quiet. I can see a small smile come to the corner of Helena's mouth, and had to laugh at what I can tell was about to take place. She gracefully stands, instantly demanding attention like the Goddess that she is.

"If you would do me the honor, dear Knight. I would love nothing more than to avenge his honor." Her voice is calm and collected as she steps down into the crowd, and onto the brown grass of the fair grounds.

"A-as you wish, my lady." The Blue Knight - obviously taken back by the fact this tall, blonde, seemingly harmless looking woman, wanted to duel him. "The weapon of choice today is the mighty sword. I hope you are ready, Miss."

The glint that comes to Helena's eyes almost stops the man from handing her the swords at all, not even aware of the damage she could do to him - even with a set of prop ones, such as these - Helena takes a moment to bow before they both take their stances. As soon as the starter gun goes off, all I can see if a blur of moonlit hair against the crushed night velvet of her cloak. Each flawless swing takes the Blue Knight by surprise. She's the most incredible thing I've ever seen - A cyclone of strength, and beauty - pain and healing. I watch as her cloak twirls one last time before the knight fall to his knees. The crowd erupts into applause as he raises his swords and then lays them down as a sign of defeat.

“You have won, My Lady. You have defeated me.” The man says as he plays the part and falls besides his swords.

Sophie and I can't help but to scream and cheer with the rest of the crowd as Helena rises - her silken hair falls back effortlessly against her shoulders, not a strand out of place, not a breath to catch. She was perfect - Outshining the sun as she stands ever so humbly in front of the crowd. A small smile on her face as she locks eyes with me. To the people in the crowd, what she did seemed to be a truly incredible feat, but they had no idea what Helena had already overcome in her life. How she faced and battled demons much bigger, and scarier than this, every day of her life - and just like today, with the warm sun shining behind her like a beacon - She triumphed. She’s risen each time a little less banged up than the last, and sometimes, like today, she rises as the great and powerful sorceress that she is, with a cool autumn breeze in her hair, and a warm smile on her face.

[akindofmagictoo]

manuscript search tag game

I was tagged by the lovely @sleepyowlwrites :D 

my words are waver, wind, wake, whine, weapon 

waver and weapon (Dragonsong) (get rekt, Brendon) 

“You don’t take orders from her,” Brendon snapped. 

Isi shot him a look. She was, after all, the one with a sword. 

The knight glanced between Isi and Brendon. He wavered, though didn’t let go of the girl. 

“I don’t have all day,” she said. She had good reason to believe there were other children who needed her protection, and in any case she didn’t want to spend all her time dealing with Brendon. “Let her go.” She also didn’t particularly want to kill this knight, especially in front of a small child, but if it came to it she might just have to. Weighing her weapon options, she stuck Brendon’s sword through her belt and put both hands on her quarterstaff. 

The knight dropped the little girl’s arm, turned and ran. 

wind (Hurricane) (yey it’s the dice game scene!! I always want to post much longer excerpts of this scene than I do. it’s fun.) 

“You’re suggesting that I’m cheating,” she said, once she’d wiped the tears from her eyes. “You’d think I’d be winning, then.” 

“Maybe you just have terrible luck.” 

Getting to know Theo seemed like a sign of good luck to her, but she kept that thought to herself. The wind ruffled his hair and a strand tickled his cheek. He huffed and tucked it behind his ear, then reached forwards. She tried to slap his hands away, but they’d already closed over the dice. 

“My roll, silly,” she said. 

He put his hands behind his back. 

wake (Dragonsong) 

“Are you sure?” Was this SB being nice? Or did he mean what he said that it simply made no sense? Still, a bed was a bed. It would certainly make no sense to pass up the offer. So she smiled, thanked him, and lay down in the offered bed. 

She was still awake when she heard SB easing himself down into the bedroll she’d vacated, grunting and grumbling as he did so. The rain beat down as steadily as ever, and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. 

Thank you, SB. 

whine I didn’t have ... so have a bonus weapon (Hurricane) 

“Aria, will you come with?” said Tempest, slipping her arms into her coat and adjusting how it lay around her weapons. She’d twisted the loose ends of her braids into a low bun. If it were possible for her to look more businesslike than usual, this had done it. She was here ready to fight. 

Theo was just glad she was fighting on his side. Or, rather, that he was on hers. 

Aria glanced up at the cliff. “I don’t fancy climbing those steps. And someone has to look after the Firebird, so it might as well be me. The rest of you can go. Just bring her back.” 

Tempest smiled slightly and put a hand on her sword hilt. “Let’s go, then.” 

I will tag ... @zmlorenz @isherwoodj @klywrites @ashen-crest and anyone else who wants to play :D your words are pitch, part, play, person 

[firemblem-fics]

Hello, If you are still taking requests, could you write any of the prompts for Yuri please, anything is fine lol. Thank you! I love your blog uwu

betrayal. | yuri

50 Wordless Ways to Say I Love You: Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath

-> Pairing: Yuri x Female!Reader

-> Warnings: Cursing, Violence, MAJOR CINDERED SHADOWS SPOILERS

-> Genre: One-Shot (1.3k), Some Fluff, Mostly Angst

-> A/N: This is like as canon-compliant as I could make it with the addition of the reader idk, I’m sorry it’s not quite “original” as much as it’s me rewriting the scene

“Finally, you’re all awake. Good morning, sleepyheads. Or is it a good evening?”

Yuri’s voice pierced through your skull, making your head throb. You heard the other Wolves talking to him- they sounded angry- but you were too weak to even open your eyes. 

“You- you scoundrel!” Constance yelled, “You are unfit to speak with us, liar that you are!”

Yuri waved her off, seemingly uncaring about whatever the hell he was doing. You tried to keep quiet, fighting off a groan of actual pain, as you opened your eyes and peered up. Yuri was standing tall above the four of you, his sword in his hand. You, Constance, Balthus, and Hapi were tied up, lying on the ground in a chamber. What the fuck?

“What exactly are you trying to do here?” Balthus pressed.

“Aelfric intends to reenact the Rite of Rising.” Yuri sighs, then explains. “By offering up the blood of the four Apostles, you can bring someone to life. Saint Seiros attempted the ritual 995 years ago, but not enough blood was given, so the ritual was a bust. And now, through extreme persistence, Aelfric has found and gathered the four of us, with our Crests.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with Y/N? She doesn’t even have a crest.” Hapi asked. 

You were more awake now, gently sitting up as memories came to you. That’s right- Yuri had betrayed everyone. The Wolves, the professor, you… Your eyes burned with tears. The little bird certainly was only a rat. Yuri looked at you, a bit too long to mean nothing, and walked to the side, twirling his sword. 

“She’s simply too strong. To have her go free is to risk too much. Aelfric can’t let this ritual fail. He spent his years raising us in the Ashen Wolf house all to ensure that the Rite of Rising was successful.” 

“You mean to say that he intends to drain our blood? To kill us?!” Constance’s voice raised. 

“Yeah, no, count me out.” Hapi joined in, “Wait- the number four includes you too, right? You’re gonna die too?”

“Yep. That’s the idea.”

You’d had enough of this talk. Yuri- Yuri wasn’t like this. You refused to believe it. He had been nothing but sweet to you, was it all really just a lie? Struggling to find your voice, you finally cried out. 

“I can’t believe you!” Everyone’s head snapped towards you. “You- you filthy liar! You’re risking your life and everyone else’s for what? Some dead bitch? You’ve spent your whole life with these people to stab them in the back?”

“Y/N-” Yuri opened his mouth, but you cut him off.

“No, no! Fuck you, Yuri Leclarc. Or are you lying about your name too? I can’t believe I trusted you- or any of us. You took advantage of everyone’s kindness and now you’re throwing everyone’s life away.” You spat at him. If you weren’t avoiding his gaze now, you would’ve seen hurt flash in his eyes. 

That hurt hardened quickly as he saw Aelfric watching from the corner. “Shut it. I've lived through Hell and worse. After clawing my way here, you really think I wanna die?”

“Then why throw your life away for the likes of Aelfric?” Asked Balthus. 

“Some things are more important than my own life.” Yuri’s eyes shifted back to you for a moment, “Some things are worth protecting.”

“You’re not making any damned sense-”

“It would seem that you want to be punished severely, Yuri.”

Suddenly, Aelfric revealed himself, walking to Yuri with a threatening aura. Yuri only scoffed, defiantly speaking back to him. You couldn’t understand much, now, your vision was spotty with your migraine. You felt like throwing up, but that didn’t seem quite appropriate right now. 

“-If I must, I will kill your mother alongside your dear people.” Aelfric finished his little speech as you focused on soothing your nausea. You kept blacking in and out between the conversation, missing bits of it. To focus on staying awake, you tried to grab the dagger that was strapped to your waist in order to cut yourself free. 

“The whole ‘evil villain’ outlook doesn’t look good on someone as pious as you, Aelfric.” Yuri laughed. You paused, wondering why he would insult his boss. 

“Yuri-bird, I could-”

“Not yet,” He hissed at Hapi. You continued to fidget, getting your ropes to the blade and beginning to saw through them. 

You were about halfway through when three figures, coated in masks and dark outfits came forth and took hold of the three downed Wolves. A fourth walked in front of you, raising his hand to knock you out once more. You flinched back, awaiting for the impact, but it never came. Opening your eyes, you saw Yuri holding the man’s wrist. 

“You will not touch her.” He threatened, “Or else.” 

The figure left and you could only sit back and watch as Aelfric sliced the four Wolves, spewing some goddess-awful monologue to Yuri. Bells chimed and Aelfric began to look panicked, much like you were. You said you hated Yuri, but that was far from the truth.

In the past time that you had gotten to know him, his sly, cunning antics had begun to grow on you. A lot. Before you knew it, you had found yourself becoming quite fond of the house leader, wanting to fight alongside him and spend your time conspiring with him. With as big of a crush that you had on the boy, it was only normal that you would feel so betrayed by him. Hell, you weren’t even going to die (yet, probably), and yet you were still just as upset as the other wolves. 

“Oh, and just so you know, I’ve been working for Lady Rhea since before I ever began working for you.”

Your utter surprise at Yuri’s words made you snap the last bit of rope that you had to cut. So, he was on your side the whole time?

“It matters no longer. The ritual is almost done. Just a little bit longer…” Aelfric tried to reason- with Yuri or himself, you couldn’t tell. 

Yuri scoffed and you began to stand up, drawing your weapon. “Don’t think for a moment-”

“That I’ll let anything happen to them!” You yelled, suddenly charging towards the man. Your fist collided with Aelfric’s jaw, knocking him to the ground as the other Wolves stood up. 

“Seriously, Boss, did you have to tie us up so tight?” Balthus complained, rubbing his wrist. 

“Sorry, Balthus,” Yuri laughed, “I figured those little tears would be enough for you to break through the rope.”

“I hate to interrupt the relief party,” You walked up to the group and shoved the blade of your weapon against Yuri’s throat. “But I’m still quite angry, and I’d like to take it out on some people I actually can beat up.” 

Yuri gave you a watery smile and gently pushed down the blade, tilting his head at you. “I’m sorry.”

You scrutinized Yuri for a moment before dropping your weapon and rushing towards him, knocking him back a few steps as your arms wrapped around him. You heard him grunt a little and you smile, squeezing him even tighter. Yuri eventually relaxes and wraps his arms around you as well, resting his head on top of yours. “Don’t fucking do that again.”

“Do you still hate me? I think you do, because you’re squeezing me so tight I can’t breathe. Not complaining, though.”

You looked up at him, ignoring the professor and the other knights as they filed into the chamber, ready to fight. “No, I could never. Even if you really had betrayed us…” You looked away from his gaze, but he tilted your chin back up. 

“I couldn’t betray you all. That would mean never getting a bone-crushing hug from you again and now that it’s started, I don’t want it to stop.” 

You laughed and tip-toed up, pressing a light kiss against his cheek. “Whatever, you sap. Let’s go kick some ass.”

[argent-vulpine]

Down We Go

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Rating: G

Characters: Seteth/Byleth

Read it on AO3!

He could not for the life of him figure out what Rhea was planning. Oh, he understood bringing Jeralt back into the fold; he’d heard many stories of the man’s tenure as captain, and with recommendations from those who’d known him, was all too happy to accept his return into the Knights, regardless of his reasons for leaving.

No, the problem Seteth was having was with Rhea’s decision to make the man’s untested, probably under-educated daughter a professor at the academy.

She simply couldn’t be trusted, which was why he had made the decision to keep an eye on her. Whatever Rhea’s reasons were – and she wasn’t sharing them – he needed to be sure that this young woman was trustworthy on his own. So he would stop and check in on her from time to time, listening to the instructions she gave her class, checking on them before and after missions, and even stopping her for chats on free days at the monastery.

He discovered, to his consternation, that she liked to fish. A lot. And that Flayn would frequently join her at the little dock, chatting away while the professor reeled in fish after fish. He knew that she would take her catches up to the dining hall for the kitchens to use, and that sometimes she would join one of the students – whether from her house or another – and cook a special meal to share with the lot.

It was also of note that she enjoyed spending some time in the greenhouse, and wandering the grounds. She would invite people to join her in the sauna – including himself, to his surprise. They said nothing, simply relaxing, and as no one treated her like this was an oddity, he had to assume this was how all her sauna visits went.

The professor liked to run, as well, he learned. It didn’t matter where. From the dormitories to the greenhouse, to the dining hall, through the gardens… it didn’t matter. She simply liked running. He caught her running across the bridge between the monastery and the cathedral in the early mornings, doing laps across the expanse before it was too crowded with people, and found that those she passed were used to this, too, greeting her as she sprinted past.

He was finding out a lot about her, in fact, and not a single shred of it made her any more suspicious. In fact, it would have been doing the opposite, if he still weren’t so bothered by her sudden and inexplicable promotion to professorship.

It wasn’t until the existence of Abyss came to light that he had any reason to suspect her at all.

Except that he’d caught her sneaking out of her room late in the evening, as he was strolling the grounds on the way to the baths, and caught sight of her slipping into a hole in a wall near her room.

Curious, he followed her into the tunnel, knowing where it would lead, but not knowing why she was going, especially at this time of night. After all, the so-called Ashen Wolves were part of her house, now, and allowed to come up to the surface for classes whenever they so desired.

By the time they’d reached the main ‘village center’ of Abyss, Byleth had vanished. He looked for her, trying to stay out of sight of Abyssians who might otherwise dislike his presence, but she was nowhere to be seen. Disgruntled, Seteth returned to the surface and continued on his original path.

--------

He watched her every night for the next two weeks, noting that while she didn’t enter Abyss every night, she did go more often than not.

Seteth did not try to follow her again, not yet, instead waiting to see how long it took before she returned. Some nights it was only an hour or two, other nights she didn’t return until near dawn, when he was yawning and struggling to stay awake.

It was severely affecting his ability to work. He found he was struggling to remain awake in meetings with Rhea and the cardinals, and drifting off in the middle of completing his paperwork. He even managed to miss lunch with Flayn on one occasion, to find her barging in and scolding him for not getting enough rest.

He was determined to get to the bottom of this. If she was up to something suspicious, then he needed to know so that he could report it to Rhea.

Determined, he prepared for another night. This time he would follow her properly. Instead of waiting outside, simply watching the tunnel, he would wait within and keep track of her that way.

--------

It took three attempts before he was able to get into the tunnel to Abyss and follow Byleth. She hadn’t gone down for a couple nights, making him wonder if he’d somehow been caught out. But then she was there, walking past his hiding place, her steps purposeful as always.

He gave it a moment before following, pulling the hood of his cloak down to further hide his unfortunately distinctive countenance. (So he might have been recognized on one foray far more easily than he’d thought. He’d learned from that.) Byleth was already a fair bit ahead of him, but it was easier to follow her this time, staying back as far as he could.

Her first stop was the Abysskeeper, getting the latest news from him, before moving on to the tavern, where she spoke with a few of the patrons there, sliding some money across the counter for a glass of what he suspected was subpar ale. She drank it anyway, chatting with the bartender. Seteth hung back, out of the tavern, and simply watched from the corridor, leaning against the wall between flickering lights and hoping the shadows were enough to conceal his identity.

Byleth remained in the tavern for a fair bit of time. Long enough to have a pint and a chat. This behavior, at least, was somewhat excusable. She’d been raised as a mercenary, after all, and while he knew she would occasionally join her father at the town’s tavern, she had likely made contacts with people in Abyss during the whole debacle when the subterranean town had been found out. Certainly she had the students here, it stood to reason there were others she spoke to as well.

From there, he watched her move to a dead end corridor (he hung far back for this) to… feed cats? Oh, he’d seen her slip some scraps to cats and dogs around Garreg Mach itself, so it shouldn’t be that surprising, but it somehow still was. She sat with them a while, giving them scraps, petting them. Sometimes one would bring her something as a gift, or she’d pry some odd item out of a mouth and then offer food as apology.

He frowned, watching, and mentally adjusted his evaluation of her. Just a little.

The rest of the night was spent in much the same manner. She helped out in the little market, stopped and spoke with children running around (and slipping them some candies). There was the library, and he itched to stop her from going in there, but he had no jurisdiction here, and trying to stop her would just make things worse. She chatted with library patrons – and he caught a flash of familiar deep green hair, the owner of which was rubbing his eyes sleepily before he waved to the professor and wandered back up to the surface.

She would stop and catch up with the Ashen Wolves. Balthus flirted as loud and boisterously as he did everything else, but Byleth dodged his efforts; he caught mention of a brawling tournament, and talking about his debts. It sounded like the professor was giving him ways to help deal with them while still having some money on the side. She spoke to Constance about magical theory, and gave Hapi a small bag of pastries from the kitchens.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, she spent the most time with Yuri, the de facto leader of the Ashen Wolves. He couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about, as they spoke in low tones to each other. That caught his attention more than anything, and he had to wonder if that was simply habit for the lavender-haired house leader, or if they were planning something and needed to keep it quiet.

He almost missed when she bade goodnight to the young man, presumably to head back to the surface for some sleep. Still, he wanted to make sure… but before he could follow after her, a shadow was upon him, pressing a blade against his throat.

“You know, I don’t take kindly to my people being tailed.” The words were said in a hard tone, a thinly veiled threat, by none other than Yuri. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but the professor is under my protection, got it?”

Seteth stared in open shock, raising his hands up to indicate he wasn’t armed, but no words came to mind. 

The knife pressed a little closer, a warning. “You had really better tell me what you were doing, following her around all night.”

So he knew? Well, there had been rumors that Yuri was the brains of Abyss, and surely he had eyes and ears all over the place. Did that mean that Byleth had caught him out, too, or that she hadn’t and Yuri was looking out for her? Seteth swallowed, feeling the sharp edge of the knife on his skin. “I think it’s no surprise to anyone that I haven’t trusted her,” he finally said, moving the hood of his cloak back enough that Yuri could see his face.

The younger man scoffed, his lips twisted in a scowl, but he removed the knife. “So instead of just asking her, you decided to be a creep about it?”

“I… well…” Yuri had a point. “I had no reason to believe she would answer me truthfully.” It sounded weak even to his own ears.

“Professor’s never lied to anyone. I don’t know even think she knows how. She may not be all that willing to share on her own, but she’s no liar.” He slid the knife back into its hiding place, giving Seteth a long look. “You’d do better to just talk to her. And frankly? I don’t want to see you down here again. You church folk aren’t the most welcome here, and I won’t guarantee your safety after tonight.”

“But she is also a member of the church.”

Yuri laughed outright at that, hard enough his eyes watered. “Tell yourself that all you want. She may be a professor at that fancy church of yours, but she was a mercenary first, and that reputation is what counts down here.” He waved a hand dismissively. “She’s welcome. You aren’t. Go home to your little monastery, Seteth. And maybe actually try to talk to the professor before you go jumping to conclusions about things.”

Seteth opened his mouth, about to ask what the pair had been talking about, when he caught Yuri’s expression. The man would not be telling him, that much was certain. He sighed, admitting defeat. “Point taken.” A pause. “Ah… it might come off a little odd, I suppose, with all things considered, but… thank you for looking out for her.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not doing it for you. We take care of our own down here, and far’s any of us are concerned, she’s one of us.” The man turned and began walking away. “Balthus will make sure you find your way safely back to the surface.”

He’d been so preoccupied with Yuri that he hadn’t even noticed when the bigger man had arrived – and how did he manage that, anyway? The brawler in question grinned down at him, placing a large hand on his shoulder. “Come on, then, church man, let’s get you home all nice and safe, shall we?”

--------

It was later than he’d thought, by the time he was escorted out of Abyss, and after so many late nights, he was exhausted.

But it looked like his night wasn’t over yet. Byleth was waiting, legs dangling over the ledge of the dorm porch. Her hands were on either side of her as she leaned back, looking up at the night sky, but she straightened and glanced his way when he stepped out of the tunnel.

She didn’t look all that surprised to see who it was, and that made him hesitate, before he deflated with a sigh. “You knew?” he asked, as he approach her perch.

“You’re not the most subtle, you know. But it was a pretty standard night in Abyss for me.” Her lips quirked into an almost smirk, but it was gone quickly. “Longer than usual, actually. I was wondering if you were going to get tired and leave.”

He had the grace to flush, embarrassed. “I… I apologize. It was unbecoming of me to follow you and treat you like a criminal.”

“You don’t trust me.” She shrugged. “You’ve made that plain enough. And I can’t particularly blame you. I came here with my father, was made a professor despite not having any real qualifications. You don’t know who I am.” Her gaze narrowed, boring into him. “Whether you trust me or not is on you, but you would have gotten many more nights of rest if you had just asked.”

There was a long silence as he processed what she’d said. “You… you knew I was watching you?”

A curt nod. “Since the first night you tried to follow me. I didn’t know it was you at the time. You were very easy to shake, by the way.” Now she did move, hopping off the ledge and strolling over to him. She had to tilt her head to look up at him, but her gaze was no less steely. “I wouldn’t even care, really, if you were exhausting yourself, but it’s bothering others, and I’m not thrilled with that. Not to mention your presence around the Abyss entrance is a detriment. I’m not the only one who knew you were out here.”

“Go to bed, Seteth. Tomorrow’s a free day. Maybe you should use it to catch up on sleep.” She began to move past him, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. “And apologize to Flayn. Properly.” With that parting advice, she was off, her boot heels clicking on the stones as she wandered off.

Seteth wanted to follow, to see where she was headed at this hour, but decided against even asking. Instead, he side, sliding a hand down his face in a tired motion. There was a throbbing behind his eyes, a reminder that he’d not gotten nearly enough sleep in his pursuit of proving her to be untrustworthy. And that had only resulted in him looking the fool.

He retreated to his rooms, checking in briefly on Flayn, before writing a simple note for her that he would be resting the following day. Then, finally, he went to sleep.

--------

When he finally awoke shortly after lunch the next day, he found a tray with a simple meal of cold meats, cheese, and bread waiting for him, covered by a napkin. A note sat atop the entire thing, and he grimaced when he recognized the professor’s quick, choppy handwriting.

Flayn asked me to help make sure you were well fed on waking. Please take better care of yourself.

B. E.

He would have to thank her later. And… apologize again. Perhaps he really had been treating her more poorly than she deserved.

[siennahrobek]

The Temple was still burning on the outskirts while the evacuation had started.

It wasn’t enough to start a panic or hinder them, as what was left of the flames were outside the barricades. Most of what was visible was smoke.

Inside was a eerie mix of loud and quiet, with many scared and frightened to speak, fearing that the Sith would come and attack them again. But with the voices rising up for communications, to have everyone on the move.

Although most didn’t completely understand what was happening, everyone did know that they didn’t have much time, so everything occurred in quite the rush. People moved as quickly as they could, striding and jogging from one area to another. There were so many questions and Shaak Ti didn’t have the time or all the answers for them. She made a few announcements, organizing a few leaders together quickly before they split up to coordinate groups as the first couple of gunships came in. With the help of overarching creche masters and older, retired masters, they had arranged the clans and other younglings and babies into different places with several Jedi. A few de-chipped clones ended up joining them with some help, after Commander Cody had coordinated them as well. Many were carrying children and babies alongside the crechemasters and aides.

They were lucky, she mused, that no one had to come across any slain jedi or troopers as they made their way to the free landing pads. The battle had been near the front entrance while the smaller exit that the remaining jedi were using was nowhere near there.

She led the first group of children and younglings through dark halls and to the back exits, secret to most, before sneaking around in the shadows outside towards the landing pads. It was dark, the sky completely black, with only the lights from the city around them illuminating softly. The Temple was big and towering, everything looked further away. Thick smoke clouded the view from below.

There were a couple of gunships already landed, with only pilots and a single attendant clone attached. He didn’t keep a blaster in his hand. It was smart, Shaak Ti thought, especially considering the circumstances. The children behind her shuffled uneasily as they approached.

“General?” one of the clones stepped forth. “My name is Crys of the 212th. We are here to help begin the evacuation.”

“Thank you, Crys,” Shaak Ti bowed. “I am relieved to see you.”

He nodded and opened the doors. “General Kenobi informed us on the situation. We are going to get you out of here and to safety. We can probably get at least a dozen in each ship, if we work it right and no one minds squishing, maybe even more depending on the size of the beings,” he explained.

“Every gunship must have at least two adult attendants to help ward away any unwanted eyes or attention,” Shaak Ti nodded. “Masters Skasa, Torandu, take group one and two into that gunship over there. Leave immediately. Masters Yolandera, Orasata, take groups three and four. Masters K’Kruhk, Berena, group five and six; go with Crys here. Keep your commlinks on you, in case we need you to come back. Otherwise, get the children settled in on the ships and help coordinate others once they come, yes?”

The Jedi nodded, understanding, as they started to usher their children into the gunships, sometimes coaxing them gently, as hurriedly as they could go.

“Crys, make sure your pilots fly casually, not too fast to bring attention. The Knights and Masters will be able to help keep attention away with the Force,” Shaak Ti explained, keeping her voice kind and calm. “Each time you come down, bring a few more. We do not know when the next attack will be. I will send up medical teams and supplies in some as well so we can start with de-chipping you and your brothers. I am very sorry this is all…happening. We never meant for you all to go through something like this.”

He probably knew what she was talking about, from the look on his face. His shoulders slumped a bit. “General. We are sorry this is happening to you,” Crys insisted, his brows creasing. “No one deserves this.”

She nodded. “Thank you, trooper.”

With that, they gunships quickly took off again. Shaak Ti didn’t spend too much time to watch, just enough to see them able to get in the air and away from the Temple before she turned back and went back in to bring back the next sizable group.

Groups brought any supplies with them as well, stuffing bags and backpacks and cases for anything they might need for their journey. Random cases of clothes, food, utensils and resources were shoved into containers and given to anyone with a free hand. It was rather unspoken, but they all knew there was little chance they would return. A few groups sported the injured and sick, bringing along healers and medical equipment on their turns in the ships. The children, the elderly, the injured and healers were the first to work their way up, as the most vulnerable and the latter being more helpful to set up and coordinate with the clone medics to receive patients. There was much to do for the healers, from helping the injured from the battle to de-chipping the clones and freeing them from the chance of being under the Sith’s thumb.

Bail Organa’s ships came soon after, making the landing pads a bit crowded. She was a bit surprised and a little wary until his pilots explained they were here to help, quiet and quick. Confirming with Obi-Wan, Shaak Ti couldn’t help but be grateful. They had some allies.

Many bodies were able to fit on his ships and many still were equipped with camouflage and cloaking abilities. With the access to several of his ships, the evacuation was going much quicker and easier, and this brought great relief to her. Bail Organa himself seemed to have become their eyes and ears in the Senate, although Shaak Ti imagined most of his information would go to Obi-Wan, as the two were friends and could easily access one another in communication without suspicion.

Shaak Ti spent most of her time repeating herself, collected and calm, moving back and forth between the temple and the landing areas. Nearly every Jedi passed her gaze, from the tiniest babe strapped to someone’s chest to the eldest surviving master, hobbling over to the gunship as fast as they could go. She had a lot of mixed feelings about it. On one hand, it was a terrible thing to watch, her people vacating and escaping their home; nearly the only home that most of them had ever known with no answers as to what was happening but knowing enough that they would probably not be back for some time, if ever. To abandon nearly all that they had was saddening but Jedi were not known for their possessions. As long as they had the Force and each other, they would be alright.

On the other hand, it was a bit inspiring, watching everyone helping one another, working so quickly and efficiently to keep each other alive and in good spirits, despite the circumstances. Children were soothed by troopers and elders alike. Confused seniors were led by the steady hands of younglings and padawans, keeping themselves collected for the sake of others. Shaak Ti had watched as a small child took the hand of a shocked and crying clone trooper and would not let go.

This was them. They were together and surviving as well as they could.

They would get through this.

**************************************************************************************

Holy….

Oh. Oh man. This…this wasn’t good. Whatever this was.

Quinlan Vos froze in the doorway, staring wide-eyed at the unconscious body in front of him. The entire premise sounded, well, rather ridiculous. Somehow, someone had done this much damage to one of the Order’s best duelists and taken his hand? That just didn’t seem feasible.

“Do you know him?” the girl that guided him here asked. There was another sitting in the corner. “We tried to patch him up the best we could, we couldn’t find a lightsaber, but he’s…pretty messed up.”

“Understatement,” the other one snorted.

“You didn’t take him to a medical facility,” Quinlan noted.

“Even if we had a way to get there, have you seen the clones? I saw them shoot down some guy walking down the street,” she shook her head. “I don’t know what is going on, but the air is electrified, and I don’t want to be anywhere near it.”

Was…was that what the call was from the Temple? About the clones’ being compromised? The Jedi that had told him that whatever was happening with them may not be their fault. It was hard to tell. Quinlan didn’t want them to turn on the Jedi any more than any other Jedi did, but he would protect his own. He would have to avoid the clones, for the time being, perhaps, especially while he was on planet. With the massive Sith presence here, Quinlan didn’t like the coincidence. If that was what it was.

“Alright,” he answered. “This is the Head of the Order. I will take him. I have an ally who owns a diner, not too far away. I just need to be able to transport him and myself without attracting too much attention.”

“We don’t want to get more mixed up in this than we already have,” the older girl snapped, curling her lip and turning away.

The one who lead him to the room just rolled her eyes. “We have a cart you can probably roll him in. It isn’t super inconspicuous but more so than hauling a half dead body around.” The elder looked unimpressed.

Before Quinlan knew it, he had laid Master Windu’s form into a laundry cart and cover it up, just enough so no one would look twice at what was inside and then he was shoved out the door.

Dex’s diner wasn’t too far away, but it did take plenty of time for certain.

Windu looked terrible. His face was ashen and red at the same time, blotchy with a missing hand that was wrapped in a few towels and shirts. It wasn’t bleeding anymore but Quinlan figured it was probably cauterized. Perhaps it was cut off by a lightsaber; the cut seemed clean enough. He was still unconscious, although Quinlan thought he might be coming in and out, but delusional. It might have been the pain; the Kiffar was certain the man had plenty of broken bones. He would need weeks in a bacta tank, depending on his internal injuries. If Quin could get him to one fast enough.

“Hey! You there!” a familiar voice called out.

Quinlan hesitantly glanced back; his vision filled with several bland white armored beings. Clones. They leveled their blasters towards him and the crowd on the sidewalk pushed each other around to scatter, attempting to get away from the weapons.

“Stop on the Orders of the Emperor!”

The what now? Quinlan didn’t wait to ask as they fired a shot. He dodged it just in time and then he was off, running as he pushed the cart with Windu’s body in it. The whole scenario felt absurd and ridiculous, something out of a cartoon. The troopers yelled after him and then gave chase.

A ludicrous chase it was.

Quinlan felt like a terrified child, pushing his cart around. He tried to keep himself equally fast and steady but more often than not, one had to be sacrificed for the other. Hopefully Master Windu could stand a little more of a beating on his person.

The troopers continued to fire, one even barely clipping his shoulder as he darted down the streets. Alone, Quinlan could have easily gotten away. He was a shadow and good at that sort of thing, disappearing and losing people in a chase. But he had a large cart with a severely wounded unconscious body that he refused to get rid of. He was tired; the past weeks of battle, the last few days of investigation with little sleep, the running on fumes, Quinlan knew even he didn’t have much left in the tank.

By the time he had gotten to the door of his intended area and knocked hard on it, the blinds were shut, and the door was locked. He feared that no one would answer, and he would be stuck out in the cold with no back up and no plan. The Temple was certainly a no go at this point.

He let out a few curses under his breath before he felt himself sway. “I’m sorry,” Quinlan muttered a rare apology and collapsed on the steps.

***

Quinlan felt a bit better than he awoke, except for the awful crying in the Force, a near insurmountable grief and the pounding in his head. There had been a lot of death and grief throughout the war, mainly Jedi nearly taken down by the amount. But this was even more. Just so much more. Many were dead; even he could feel that. He swallowed and prayed that someone survived. He couldn’t possibly be the last.

Sitting up, Quinlan took in his surroundings. It wasn’t a large room, but he was on a small cot and nearby was another, Master Windu laid out atop. He was hooked up to an oxygen tank and it appeared a few bones looked reset. At least his arm and shoulder weren’t too out of sorts anymore.

Getting up from his cot, Quinlan got closer for another look. Some of his body bandages and the stump where his hand should have been, was cleaned up and wrapped much neater. The kiffar checked his pulse. Still breathing, a bit steadier than before. That was something.

Curious, he moved out of the room and looked around, and upon hearing the faint sizzling, he went to investigate. He found his way into the upper rooms of the place and with it, Dexter Jettser cooking up something in the kitchen. The besalisk glanced at him briefly but then turned to his task.

“Good, you’re up. I have some food for you and a ship nearly ready for you,” he greeted, flipping over the flat cake in the pan.

“What happened? How long was I out?”

“A while,” he answered vaguely. “I had a doctor come and look at your Jedi friend and start to get you started on a ship.”

“Started on a ship?” Quinlan questioned.

“I have to smuggle you out of here,” Dex admitted.

“Smuggle?”

Dex’s eyes darkened but were full of sympathy. “The Chancellor – my apologies, the emperor, has declared the Jedi traitors and are to be hunted down as such. The Republic is gone; there is now only an Empire.”

Quinlan nearly fell down into the chair behind him. All that work, all the things the Jedi had done – against their code, against their morals – for the Republic and all for what? To be stabbed in the back and the government torn apart?

“This is…” he drifted off. “I don’t know what this is.”

“The Emperor made the official announcement to the public,” Dex said with a frown. “And that every jedi and traitor is going to be hunted down.” He set a plate in front of Quinlan, forcing him to sit and slid the food in front of him.

“And traitor? Do we have allies?” Quinlan asked, taking a bite out of whatever flapjack food Dex had put in front of him. As always, it was delicious.

“I got a hold of Obi-Wan when you were out.”

Quinlan sighed in relief. There was someone. Someone. “He’s alive.”

“A bit rough shape but alive,” Dex nodded.

“He can be fixed up then.” As long as he was alive, Quinlan thought. It was a bit dark and selfish of him but Obi-Wan was the one who vouched for him after he came back from the dark side. He never wanted to let his friend down again. He had so much to repay for his loyalty, faith and kindness.

“He had a clone with him.” Quinlan tensed up, alarmed but Dex continued. “Turns out, they have chips in their brains which, when activated, force them to kill the Jedi. There was an attack on the Temple by clone troopers. He said the Sith are behind it,” he explained. “The Jedi got a bit of a warning so they could prepare just a bit and eventually saved a few as well as destroyed some of the Temple to keep them out.”

“Do you know what they are going to do?” Quinlan asked.

“They are fleeing,” Dex sighed. “With whom they can. And it’s your best option at this time too. I know their first stop, so the ship I’m working on getting you will get you there so hopefully you can catch up. They have a bit of a head start but it’ll be faster than the venators they’re flying up there.”

“Evacuation,” Quinlan pondered, nearly disbelievingly. Out of all the things he had seen in his life so far, he had never expected this to be one of them, not for the Jedi. “How is Master Windu doing?” he asked again, numbly.

“The Jedi you came in with. He’s alive,” Dex pointed out. “But he will need a bacta tank for a while. Hopefully, you can get a hold of one when you meet up with the other Jedi.”

Quinlan nodded. “How long until we can move?”

“A couple of hours,” Dex answered. “I know it’s a bit of time, but it was the fastest I could get on short notice. I’m used to smuggling weapons when I can, not beings on the fly.”

“It is appreciated,” Quinlan promised.

“My guess is you’ll be right behind Obi-Wan and their ships, as long as everything goes smoothly. It shouldn’t be a long trip, but it is pretty far out. I dunno how it will take for the new emperor to realize they are gone but it probably won’t be long.”

The realization hit him like a four-ton AT-TE.

Emperor.

Sith.

“Palpatine is the Sith Lord,” Quinlan realized. It felt numb, like he couldn’t feel the words his mouth was forming. He…they…this was… “Palpatine is the Sith Lord we have been looking for.”

How was this possible?

Dex stayed silent, whether giving Quinlan time to process or not entirely understanding what he was saying, Vos didn’t know but he rather appreciated it all the same.

“Palpatine is the Sith Lord,” he whispered. What if…what if he stayed and took him down? Granted, Quinlan didn’t have the best track record with this sort of thing at the moment, but everyone thought he was on Boz Pity, he could possibly take him by surprise?

Quinlan couldn’t see Master Windu from where he was in the other room, but he looked in that direction anyways. He needed help. Master Windu wouldn’t survive without him; he had to be Quinlan’s first priority at this point. He looked around and found a stack of blank paper, used for writing down orders. Finding a pen, he jotted something down on it. “I know this is asking a lot, or at least, I don’t really have the right to be asking this of you,” he started.

Dex met his eyes, a bit confused but also curious.

He gave the besalisk the paper. “This is…this is someone important. To both me and Obi-Wan. If you come across…” he struggled to say it, his paranoia was rearing its ugly head once again. Perhaps it would help this time. “Send them back to us.”

“I know this name,” Dex grunted, to Quinlan’s surprise as he slid the paper over and Dex looked down at it. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised, considering Obi-Wan had taken a lot of his friends to this diner over the years in his friendship with Dex. “Been to the diner before, with Obi-Wan. Don’t worry, I will wrap ‘em up and send ‘em to ya given the chance.”

Relief flooded Quinlan. He’d rather not lose again but if there was one thing he had learned over this whole debacle, he could count on Dex. The Jedi could and having allies was important. He just wished he could spend more time on planet gathering said allies. “Thank you.”

“We need to get you and your Jedi friend ready for your trip. I obviously can’t get a ship in front of my diner here so we will have to go to a landing platform. It’s not far but you’ll need to hide and be disguised so that the troopers don’t recognize you,” Dex explained.

Quinlan nodded. “Right. Right.”

“Vos,” Dex added, his eyes softening as all four of his arms seemed to sag. “The Jedi are not without friends in the galaxy. They are not without friends on the planet. There is more than just me,” he promised. “Whoever is found, you know that they have a chance, even here, with some of us. So, eventually, try to keep in touch, find some way of communicating so we can help.”

They had allies. They had friends. Quinlan wasn’t sure even Dex completely understood what that meant to the Jedi, especially in a government and a galaxy that seemed to hate or misunderstand them. “Yeah, Dex. Thank you.”

********************************************************************************

As Cin Drallig walked through the corridors, directing knights, masters and de-chipped clones, there was bare a moment where he was not in sight of a dead being, either a jedi defending their home or a brainwashed clone forced to fight. There were hundreds at the least, and Cin had to muster all he could not to close his eyes and cry. It was so many of the people he cared about, in his own home no less. He could recognize so many.

He had his padawan and a few others packing up lightsabers from the archives to the training salles. They were practically giving them away to anyone they could come across to transport them. Most jedi had at least two or three lightsabers nestled in their robes or clones with several on their belts.

The troopers had been a bit stunned at the easy tossing of saber to them.

Quarters were broken into, belongings and clothes thrown into duffle bags. Every Jedi had at least one duffle in their quarters, no matter their age or active status for the field. Some of the jedi that would have been on active duty in peace time would have a go bag ready to move, just in case they would be called away quickly. There had been times in the past. He doubted anyone would be coming back any time soon, if ever, so they would pack what they could. They had some time; the knights and masters would generally be the last to get on the venator ships above the planet. The injured, elderly and children would be first. So why wait around when they can gather resources for their journey.

The defeat of Anakin Skywalker – Darth Vader – had bought them some time. The Sith Master obviously wanted the boy as an apprentice quite badly, so it was, although a relief, although not quite surprising that there was somewhat of a retreat once he had been mutilated. He almost certainly would not be able to lead any troops back on the Temple again soon, which gave them some time due to the frenzy of being so injured, but Cin knew that any moment, another attack could come led by someone else.

He couldn’t guess what the Sith Lord was thinking or how prepared he was for this outcome. So, they worked as fast as they could.

Explosions and crumbled columns and walls and blocked outsiders from the inside of the Temple, mainly, although there were passes out, which were being used by Shaak Ti to lead the first groups to landing pads and to the ships. Skywalker may have known about those, but Cin doubted he was conscious and giving intelligence right now. The clones certainly wouldn’t know, not in their state of mind – or rather, lack thereof.

Cin picked through the bodies that flooded the halls until he got to the outer collapsed wall of the Temple, separating them from the outside and any brainwashed clones that may be on the other side. He set a hand on the rock and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath. It was near time to say goodbye.

A presence came up to him.

“We have collected all the living injured Jedi and clones, as well as the troops that had been trapped, at least, within the perimeter of the walls,” Ryrpam replayed, steadily. His voice had always been an informative and professional sort, a bit dry but quiet. He didn’t like to use it too much, Ryrpam was a bit of a discreet kind of being, that preferred actions over words. “Apparently a senator has secretly sent his ships to help evacuate.”

Cin’s brows furrowed. “Who?”

“A…senator Organa?”

Cin felt his chest relax a little. He didn’t particularly know many senators, but he did know many Jedi who worked more with senators than he did. Bail Organa was one he had heard nearly all good things about. He was probably someone they could trust. He didn’t know him but when there was talk about relations between the Senate and the Jedi, he was the name that popped up quite a bit.

“It’s making things go a lot faster,” Ryrpam added. Cin couldn’t tell what he thought about this development; a senator helping them to the point where they could very well be killed as a traitor. “This the size of the ships and the ability to be inconspicuous.”

“Or rather, normally conspicuous,” Cin pointed out, thinking about this for a moment. He couldn’t help but be relieved. Senator ships could often fit more than the gunships of the troopers and military. “Senator ships are constantly coming and going, in and out of the atmosphere. They won’t be amiss.”

The Guard nodded.

“This is…difficult,” he admitted, running his hand down a partially destroyed fresco that adorned a wall only half brought down. One could still see some of the faces and patterns painted in it. “Destroying parts of this place; leaving it, probably forever.”

“It is a home,” Ryrpam agreed. “But we survive.”

“And the Jedi have been more home than any building could ever be,” Cin finished. It did not completely make it easier, especially for Cin, especially with his relationship with this place. But in the end, the Jedi are his family, and he would choose them, even one of them, over this building any time, any day, forever. There was no choice in that matter. “You’re right, my friend. Have you seen Master Kenobi?”

Ryrpam shook his head. “Not seen personally, but some guards have been keeping an eye out for him. Everyone seems to know at least a bit about his duel with Skywalker. Most are surprised he made it out with so little injuries.”

“He is an excellent defensive fighter, he was always such a hard worker, always improving,” Cin replied, his mind flashing to the countless hours he had seen that boy training late at night and early in the morning throughout the years. As a padawan, as a knight, as a master. Obi-Wan was constantly on the move to improve. He had earned his mastery for certain, not just in his lightsaber tactics. He worked harder than most, Cin believed. There were underlying motivations, he knew, as he had known that boy since he was an initiate, but no one could say he didn’t work. “But Skywalker’s power and talent is difficult to overcome.”

A bit of an understatement, Cin grimaced. He probably could have defeated Skywalker, even with his ability, just from sheer experience. He had helped train that boy too, he knew a lot more of Skywalker’s moves than Skywalker knew of his. Cin was a master in the forms, had years of experience and teaching. He was powerful and his strikes were often deadly, but he wasn’t infallible in battle. That was definitely certain when Count Dooku had ruthlessly taken his hand, even if Skywalker had the last laugh, being the one to take his head.

He didn’t have the relationship with Skywalker that Obi-Wan had. Cin had a difficult time imaging having to fight someone so ruthlessly that you love so much. And Obi-Wan Kenobi’s love, the kind that Skywalker had a hold of, was something to behold.

“It seems he is holding himself quite well for the time,” Ryrpam noted. “At least, that is what I have been told by those who have seen him. The Guard communication chat has had a few updates. They’re worried, I think. About everyone, obviously, but with Kenobi…his padawan just turned Sith and was about to massacre our people. Even I am uncertain how he is holding himself up.”

“For now,” Cin echoed with a frown. “I will have to check in on him when we escape, make sure he is actually not sporting any internal injuries, get him to rest. He has been on the move for days, rescuing the Chancellor, fighting Dooku, defeating General Grievous. Fighting against someone like Skywalker…it is difficult to get away unscathed and he must be rather exhausted.”

Ryrpam nodded.

“But for now, we move along. And survive.”

*************************************************************************************************

Boil had liked his position as a scout. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to fight or couldn’t, contrary, he was actually fairly good at it, but he sometimes did like scouting ahead, being the first to see things, discovering. It was really made apparent back on Ryloth. He didn’t act like it, particularly, has he had a reputation to uphold, but Numa was a pleasant surprise on the field. At first he couldn’t help be annoyed, she was a child and she was alone and Waxer just did not want to leave her be.

But she ended up liking them, both Waxer and Boil. He remembered her excited chattering, after she had gotten over her skepticism and wariness of them. And Boil remembered the soft look on General Kenobi’s face when she called back to them when they were moving on after freeing the group of twi’leks, calling both of them Nerra. He remembered the smile that he had when he told them what it meant. Brother.

Boil also remembered Point Rain.

They had lost so many that day. Nothing had been going right and it was just a horrible last stand, praying for reinforcements to come to their aid, to save them. General Kenobi, alongside another survivor, Trapper, had been caught in a downed gunship outside of their little post, which was surrounded by the enemy. He and Waxer were sent to get them. They were good at that, he supposed. While Cody seemed to be retrieving General Kenobi’s lightsaber often – General Kenobi kept saying the crystal liked Cody – Waxer and Boil seemed to have a specialty of retrieving or finding General Kenobi himself.

He always knew them, even in unfamiliar armor. He always knew all of the troopers, really, but it often seemed like Waxer and Boil were the ones he was around a lot.

Being the first one that General Kenobi contacted upon this disaster was something of an honor, he supposed. He never wanted to let him down. There was something about having this general’s faith and trust that made them want to be the best they could, that they were valued. Sometimes it felt like they were chosen, and Boil always wanted to be worthy of that choice.

Boil had sent Waxer down to the Temple, to help coordinate between the building and their ship and if he came across General Kenobi, well, all the better. He hadn’t seemed very injured during their latest communications, but they had both only seen him from the waist up. And that didn’t even get into the look on his face, the one of pain and grief and exhaustion. They couldn’t help but worry.

The two of them almost thought the entirety of the 212th could feel it.

Boil had stayed above the planet in the ship, to organize everything inside. Inside one of the first shipments of mostly children and the elderly, came a young Coruscant Guard brother, who called himself Inkspot. He seemed to be a tremendous help with organizing what was going to go where and General Kenobi seemed to vouch for him. Most of their cargo would be people and medical supplies but this was an escape just as it was an evacuation – they would most likely never be returning to what remained of the Temple. Travel between a few of General Kenobi’s ships were coordinated as well, and some of the ships coming in with kids and supplies were directed towards them. They would want to spread things out a little.

The children, the injured, and the elderly were first, and he had never seen a more scared and brave group of people. Although many kids were crying, they kept going, listening to instructions intently and bundling up in areas where they were directed. It broke his heart, seeing these people, these refugees, coming with barely anything, to escape their own home through no fault of their own. He thought mutely of his own brothers. They weren’t so much refugees, running from their home, as they didn’t really have one, but they were running all the same.

He tried not to think about the brothers they weren’t able to save.

The ones still stuck planet side. The ones trapped in their own minds. Were they still in there, screaming and begging for their bodies to stop? Could they see anything at all? There were so many of them and Boil didn’t know who had survived. Who still had grips on their mind.

He almost wanted to be upset, that they were leaving so many behind. But he knew better, the Jedi didn’t have the numbers on planet. They barely managed to fend off some of the clones that were around the planet. Their numbers were scattered amongst the stars with the only ones with him being the old and young and vulnerable.

There had to be trust, he thought. Trust that once they regrouped, they would all come up with a plan to save the other brothers.

One child came up to him and handed him a little plastic flower. He was a bit mortified to say he just stared dumbly at her. “It’s not real but it’s my favorite kind,” she told him, tucking it in one of the crevasses of his armor. “I don’t know what is going on but thank you helping us.”

An adult ushered her away, murmuring apologies to him. He picked up the little flower and studied it and it was nothing like he could feel before. It was almost as if he could feel the gratefulness, the love imbued inside.

Was it possible that was what he was feeling? That he was right?

Then again, this was the Jedi, he shouldn’t be surprised.

They had been made for the Jedi, sure, but in the end, it had never mattered what the Kaminise or the Republic or the Chancellor said – they chose the Jedi, just as the Jedi chose them.

Boil was fairly certain they would be forever intertwined.

*******************************************************************************************

Waxer liked kids, he always had. Ever since he had seen another child, or anyone significantly younger than him, he practically fell in love. They were cute and pure and fun in a way that adults just didn’t know how to be anymore. Waxer strived to be more like them, to have the mind of a child. To be that kind and giving and beautiful of heart. He wasn’t sure if a soldier like him could do it, but he wanted it all the same.

He and Boil had agreed to separate. It was a rare thing, the two of them actually, willingly splitting. Boil didn’t always like to show it, but they were best friends, brothers more so than with others. They were battlefield brothers, a bond that wasn’t just covered with their genetics and choice, but one paved in blood and trust and loyalty. And more choice. He imagined they weren’t the only ones like that; the inseparable ones, but none of the others mattered.

Waxer was helping coordinate the groups into the ships, making sure every one of them was full to capacity, that they had everything and that they had adults to help keep unwanted attention away. General Kenobi had mentioned it before; if they ever had time when they escaped, he hoped they would be able to ask him about it. He loved listening to General Kenobi’s talks about the culture and the Jedi and everything else he knew.

And General Kenobi knew a lot.

Waxer gave out little band aids, each painted with a tiny little twi’lek girl, the one he and Boil had befriended on Ryloth. He wasn’t sure why, but he liked to do it in his spare time or during travel times. Band aids weren’t used a whole ton, as often soldiers didn’t care for them, thinking them worthless to use over little scrapes and cuts, but he had stolen a box from the medical bay, thinking no one would use them. Helix had been furious by the missing supplies, just on the principle of the matter, but General Kenobi had placated him and gotten another box. Another one had appeared under Waxer’s pillow one day. He took it as a sign.

The lines of Jedi and brothers were filled with wounded. Kids even who had hurt themselves trying to escape or scrambled away to safety during the battle. He handed out his coveted band aids like they were nothing, sticking them on even the tiniest scrapes upon a child’s knee or elbow or cheek.

“Firework!” one of them shouted. He had just given a little twi’lek girl a band aid and she whipped around in time with her partner’s voice, an older Mirilan boy that were standing right next to him. Waxer looked up.

It was a brother. Not one Waxer knew personally and not one of the 212th attack battalion or the 501st legion, but he had a very distinctive scar covering some of his face. It looked like lightning. The Mirilan boy and twi’lek girl, arms full of a horned jedi baby, jumped the line to run after the clone.

Waxer just watched as he scooped them all up and lifted them all together with ease. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but he could see the glisten of tears. One of the adult jedi shushed them and all of them blushed in embarrassment. The clone – Firework – said something and the Mirilian boy went right to work, unstrapping his back and chest plates before Firework took the baby from the twi’lek and placed it in between his chest and his armored chest plate.

The lieutenant blinked. That was rather smart.

Apparently, many other nearby brothers thought so as well. There were some that were already carrying babies or near someone carrying babies and they did something of the same, stretching their straps that held the chest and back plates together and making room for a sling between their blacks and the armor.

A few attending jedi just giggled.

Waxer wasn’t entirely sure what was going on with them, but he smiled as the four of them approached the line once more. “Are you all okay?” he asked. The brother – Firework – sagged a little bit but nodded at him.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m okay.”

“Firework got hit in the face,” the twi’lek girl announced, a bit loudly. “Does he get a band aid too?”

Both clones’ eyes looked down at her as she put her hand on her hip for emphasis, staring at Waxer as if she dared him to refuse. Waxer laughed out loud.

“Yeah, he can have one,” he said, giving her the band aid. She unwrapped it and practically pulled the brother’s face down from his loose chest plate before carefully sticking the band aid on Firework’s cheek.

“Thanks, Aash,” Firework acknowledged, quietly. “Are you ready to go?”

She took his hand and glanced at the Mirilan boy, who took Firework’s other. They looked cute and perfect, little jedi children huddling around a brother, one of them tucked closely to his chest and the others hand in hand. The girl, Aash smiled up at him, a bit sad but determined and brave. “With you, yes. Let’s go away now.”

Go away now, Waxer mused. It was almost time; nearly all the Jedi were aboard now. It appeared that was what they were all about to do.

[woolishlygrim]

Dark Souls Theory: Unkindled and Lords of Cinder

So, there was a pretty solid theory doing the rounds a while ago that every Unkindled in Dark Souls III corresponds to a Lord of Cinder, having been linked to them in life in some way. Anri obviously corresponds to Aldrich, Hawkwood to the Abyss Watchers, and Siegward to Yhorm.

But a lot of people concluded from this and some tbh kinda flimsy extra evidence that the Ashen One is the Unkindled tied to Lothric and Lorien, and they aren’t. Friede is, and I will prove it.

I’ll tack in some context and backstory too, just in case any non Dark Souls fans want to read the, er, argument for the prosecution of Elfriede ‘Reverse Sulyvahn’ Londor.

Context.

(If you already know the story of DS3, skip this part. Or don’t, I’m not the boss of you.)

So, the basic set up of Dark Souls is that many eons ago, during an age without light or dark, or life and death, just endless grey and immortal dragons, hollow beings within the earth found the First Flame, the first sparks of disparity in the world, and from it, four of them retrieved four Lord Souls: Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight, claimed the Light Soul; the Witch of Izalith (most likely also named Izalith) claimed the Life Soul; Nito, First of the Dead, claimed the Death Soul; and last of all, the Furtive Pygmy claimed the Dark Soul, and shared it out among humanity.

Gwyn, Izalith, and Nito would go on to defeat the dragons and begin the Age of Fire, but in time, the First Flame that sustained it began to fade, heralding the onset of the Age of Dark, where humanity would rule. Unable to let go of the age had fought for, and terrified of what the Age of Dark might involve, Gwyn decided to Link the Fire, burning himself on it as fuel. This, we are told, is the First Sin -- the Age of Fire was never meant to last forever, and it was always meant to fade into the Age of Dark, and Gwyn’s prolonging of it traps the world in a vicious cycle, preventing the Age of Fire from truly ending, forcing person after person to come and link the Fire in turn as their predecessors burn out, while the world decays around them.

Dark Souls III comes crashing in after countless cycles, each one less effective than the last. The Fire is fading once more, and there is nobody to Link it this time. In desperation, the bell at Firelink Shrine is rung, resurrecting five (or four, there’s some contention over whether Lothric ever linked the Fire, but I believe that he did and that the references to him ‘not taking his throne’ refer to him not returning to link it a second time) Lords of Cinder, people who have linked the Fire in the past, to all burn on it again, or else surrender their fires and their kingdoms to someone else.

With the exception of one, Ludleth, all of the Lords of Cinder refuse to return to their thrones and link the Fire a second time, and so five Unkindled, people who attempted to link the Fire and failed, are resurrected to bring the Lords back to their thrones.

Every Unkindled Has A Corresponding Lord of Cinder: Anri, Hawkwood, and Siegward.

So, the theory goes, every Unkindled is matched against a Lord of Cinder. This makes perfect sense, but it’s true in multiple ways: Each Unkindled is someone that Lord knew before they became a Lord, but each Unkindled’s story and history also parallels their Lord.

Aldrich, Saint of the Deep, was a cleric of the Way of White who discovered a taste for human flesh. Devouring countless victims, he bloated, then softened into a black sludge, becoming something inhuman, and it is heavily indicated that he was captured and forced to link the Flame. Upon being resurrected, he received visions of an Age of Deep Seas, and chose to force the fading of the Flame by devouring the gods themselves -- starting with Gwyndolin, Gwyn’s son.

Anri of Astora, meanwhile, was once a captive of Aldrich, held prisoner as a child, one of his future meals. They, and another captive named Horace, escaped, and evidence suggests they were instrumental in capturing Aldrich and forcing him to link the Flame. It’s not clear how Anri ended up trying to link it, but in the aftermath of their resurrection, they became an adherent of the Sable Church, a church wholly opposite to the Way of White, which believes in usurping the Flame.

The Abyss Watchers were a caravan of undead who roamed in search of the Abyss, a kind of malevolent wellspring of Humanity, inspired by the legend of Artorias the Abyss Walker. It is said that when a city showed the first signs of the Abyss, the Watchers would emerge and bury it. And yet, like Artorias, it seems they eventually began to fall to the Abyss themselves -- and rather than allow that, they linked the Flame, burning themselves as fuel. The First Flame did once contain the same Dark Soul that gave rise to the Abyss, after all. Upon resurrection, they have entire lost their minds to the Abyss, endlessly fighting each other in the depths of Farron Keep.

Hawkwood the Deserter, meanwhile, is a deserter from the Abyss Watchers. Choosing to fight with a sword and shield instead of their customary sword and dagger, he was ridiculed and despised as a coward, a judgement that would later be proven true when he abandoned them, perhaps out of fear of the Abyss encroaching on them. Hawkwood is driven by a fear of death and a hatred of his own cowardice, and we can make an educated guess and say he tried to link the Flame in order to survive in some form, to make a mark on history that would finally win him people’s admiration -- but he fails, and becomes ash. Upon being resurrected, Hawkwood is fatalistic, claiming that it’s impossible for Unkindled to defeat the Lords, but he does eventually find a purpose, as he attempts to seek the immortality of the dragons. Where the Watchers were honourable, group-minded, and didn’t fear death, Hawkwood seeks immortality to be free from his fear, and he seeks it for himself and only himself.

Yhorm the Giant was once the king of the Profaned Capital. Once, the people of the Capital were ruled over by a great warlord who had conquered many kingdoms -- but one day, they found themselves without a ruler and protector, and so they turned to Yhorm, the warlord’s descendant. While Yhorm was by all accounts a wise king and a fierce protector, he was derided by his people, who seemed to resent and doubt him. Eventually, however, an ancient curse awoke in a group of oracles within the Capital, and from them was born the Profane Flame, an ever-burning fire that consumed people’s hearts. It’s not clear what the Profane Flame is, but clearly it (like the Chaos Flame before it) was linked to the First Flame, and may have even been an attempt at recreating it. Either way, Yhorm believed he could calm it by linking the first Flame, and did so -- only for the first Flame to run out of control and rain fire over the city, consuming every human within it. Upon being resurrected, Yhorm saw the futility of what he had done, and settled in to his throne, surrounded by the burnt bodies of his people, to await his friend.

Siegward was an honourable knight of Catarina, and a good friend to Yhorm. At some point in their friendship, Yhorm took two Storm Ruler swords, which he was vulnerable to, gifting one to the people of the Capital and the other to Siegward. He made Siegward swear an oath that if Yhorm ever strayed from his duty, Siegward would come for him -- and with them both resurrected, Siegward does exactly that, or at least, he tries to. As with the others, it’s not clear why Siegward tried to link the Flame, but we can speculate that perhaps he did it to preserve his home of Catalina, or perhaps it was to delay the inevitable time when Yhorm would be resurrected to burn again. Yhorm and Siegward are both honourable, dutiful people, but while Yhorm abandons his duty when he sees the futility of what he did, Siegward never does. An oath is an oath, after all, and he swore one to Yhorm.

I’m spending so much time going over this to make it clear that, apart from each Unkindled and Lord being linked, they also form two halves of a wider narrative. Aldrich and Anri make up to sides of a story about how faith can corrupt or inspire; the Abyss Watchers and Hawkwood are two sides of a story about bravery and what bravery really means; and Yhorm and Siegward are two sides of a story about duty and futility, and especially what duty means when fulfilling your duty achieves nothing of value.

So that leaves two Lords, Lothric/Lorien and Ludleth, and two Unkindled, Elfriede of Londor and the Ashen One. 

Elfriede and Lothric.

We’ll split this into two halves: How things likely played out narratively, and how they match up thematically.

So, Lothric, younger prince of the kingdom of Lothric, was born to link the Flame. From birth, likely even from conception, that was his purpose: He would grow, take the throne, and at the appropriate time, literally actually set himself on fire to keep the world warm.

His older brother, Lorien, was a great swordsman and knight, who had even defeated the Demon Prince (ostensibly), a battle that had charred the blade of his greatsword black. His sister, Gertrude, was -- well, we’ll get to her. But Lothric, unlike his siblings, was born sickly and frail in both mind and body.

It is said that as he was growing up, Lothric had a tutor, a scholar who instilled in him a deep doubt about the Fire-Linking ritual. At the same time, Gertrude was visited upon by angels, being struck blind and mute, and began to write the texts that would inspire the heretical Angelic Faith.

The Angelic Faith, we know, is actually either the same as or closely related to the faith of the Sable Church of Londor -- the pilgrims of Londor seemingly, if they can make it close enough to the end of the world, become angels. 

Similarly, I would posit that Lothric’s tutor was actually Friede, or Elfriede of the Sable Church. 

(This is a tactic we see her use elsewhere, after all, almost exactly, later on in the story. When encountered in the Painted World of Ariandel, Friede has ingratiated herself with the painter Ariandel, and convinced him to let the Painted World rot. She doesn’t do this out of spite or malice: She’s driven by genuine kindness because, as a Painted World falls to rot, it is set ablaze to clear the way for a new Painted World. For Friede, who came from outside the painting, setting fire to the painting seems like a terribly cruel thing.)

Friede fits almost too perfectly. She is a scholar, after all, seemingly well-educated in matters of history and cosmology, and a swordswoman who might have been hired to be Lothric’s (sadly useless, as he was too weak to wield the sword made for him) swordsmanship tutor. She is a founder of the Sable Church, perfectly positioned to have introduced the Angelic Faith to Gertrude. And she is wracked with guilt over a promise she made to protect someone, only to have to resort to violence to do so -- reason enough, then, for her to suggest a gentler approach to making sure Lothric doesn’t link the Flame.

Most importantly, though, she is an Unkindled, which means she is linked with a Lord of Cinder. It must be either Lothric or Ludleth, and we’ll get to why it makes more sense for it to be Lothric in a bit.

So she becomes his tutor, she places the seeds of doubt in him, she helps Gertrude become a would-be prophet of sorts. But Friede, we’re told, is kind. As Yuria says, her kindness wore upon her principles. Her principles, here, are allowing the Flame to be usurped or snuffed out. So, with that in mind, how would her kindness wear upon that? We can assume the end result of it was her attempting to link the Flame, going against all her principles in the process, but who was she being kind to while doing so?

It’s not Ludleth. Ludleth is a powerful sorcerer, and so eager and fervent in his desire to see the Age of Fire continue that he cuts off his own legs to ensure he won’t flee. What use does he have for kindness?

Lothric, though, poor Lothric, has been raised from birth for the sole purpose of being burned alive for years, or maybe centuries. He is sick and frail, kept isolated from the rest of the world, and this torment waiting for him, a torment so terrible that even Ludleth can be heard begging in his sleep for the pain to stop, isn’t even one he can take on his own. Lorien has already figured this out, figured out that Lothric is too weak to link the Flame on his own, and that someone would have to share in the Fire-linking.

Friede, we are told, is kind. So doesn’t it make the most sense that, seeing Lothric and Lorien doomed to this terrible fate, she steps in and links the Flame for them? If the Flame is linked already, then there’s no need for them to sacrifice themselves.

Except Friede fails. She is burned to ash, the Flame isn’t sustained by her, and eventually Lorien carries Lothric into the Kiln, and they burn together. The experience breaks Lorien’s mind and body completely, and when they are resurrected, Lothric wants nothing to do with the Flame, content to simply watch it fade alongside his brother.

Friede, meanwhile, is resurrected as well, but flees into the Painted World. Making it a new home, she, perhaps not fully understanding the Painted World’s own cycle, seeks to sustain it indefinitely, even as it falls to rot. It’s worth noting that this is the opposite of the Sable Church’s views in the real world: Letting the Painted World rot, sustaining the current painting at any cost, is analogous to linking the Flame and sustaining the Age of Fire; whereas burning the painting and creating a new one is analogous to the transition to a new age that Yuria and Lilliane hope for.

Two halves of the same story. Friede’s kindness sees her betray her sisters and her principles; Lothric and Lorien’s kindness binds them closer together, even as it leads to their ruin.

Of course, they’re the easy pair to justify. There’s another one, though: The Ashen One is also an Unkindled, and there’s only one Lord left for them to be linked to.

The Ashen One and Ludleth.

At first blush, it seems utterly impossible for the Ashen One and Ludleth to be the last pair. Ludleth doesn’t recognise the Ashen One, he introduces himself, it’s fairly clear that the two of them never met before they were both resurrected, probably never even heard the other one’s name. They aren’t friends or enemies or even acquaintances, they’re total strangers.

Or, at least, Ludleth is a stranger to the Ashen One. The Ashen One has never met Ludleth before, but, while he doesn’t realise it, Ludleth does know the Ashen One. In fact, Ludleth linked the Flame because, and only because, of the Ashen One. The Ashen One is the single most important person in Ludleth’s life, even though they have never seen each other.

Because Ludleth hasn’t seen the Ashen One, but someone has.

“ Ahh. Found her, did we? And the black eyes that shimmer within, I see? Tis as if it were but yesterday. We did all we could to spare her from them. Much has happened since. Mayhap I should apprise thee... Of what the thin light of these eyes might reveal to the eyeless Firekeeper. Scenes of betrayal, things never intended for her ken, visions of... this age's end..." 

“The eyes show a world destitute of fire, a barren plane of endless darkness. A place born of betrayal. So I will'd myself Lord, to link the fire, to paint a new vision. What is thine intent?"

In one ending, arguably the true ending, of Dark Souls III, the Ashen One can betray the Firekeeper and choose to usurp the Flame, ushering in a new Age, an age of -- something that isn’t quite the Age of Fire or the Age of Dark.

The previous Firekeeper saw a vision of this, in which the pilgrims of Londor are kneeling for the Usurper, who has betrayed the Firekeeper. We know that she told Ludleth about this vision. But Ludleth has never seen this vision. He doesn’t know who the Usurper is, he doesn’t know what they look like. 

Nevertheless, his terror and outrage at what the Usurper did prompted him to throw the Firekeeper from the top of the belltower, and link the Flame. He’s not, in truth, a worthy candidate for the Flame -- you must be a monarch to link the Flame, and Ludleth is just a humble pygmy. But he has power, and a ring made from a Soulfeeder, and with that power and the power of the Flame, he reshapes the land, raising the High Wall of Lothric to block the passage of the pilgrims of Londor as they try to reach the Kiln of the First Flame. After all, he knows that the pilgrims of Londor are a part of this, so surely the Usurper is among them.

If there’s any doubt that Ludleth created the High Wall of Lothric, I will point you to this:

(Pictured: The beta version of Dark Souls III, where the High Wall of Lothric is the ‘Wall of Lodeleth.’)

Like Gwyn, Ludleth is willing to burn for what he believes. But him alone isn’t enough, so he uses the Flame to make more changes: He uses it to ring the Bell, awakening Aldrich, the Abyss Watchers, Yhorm, and I believe Lothric and Lorien. When they don’t return to their thrones, five Unkindled are raised: Anri, Hawkwood, Siegward, Friede and the Ashen One, a nameless undead who tried and failed to link the Flame long ago and was of no importance to anyone.

Making their way through Lothric, the Ashen One will inevitably encounter the pilgrims, most of them dead, at the edge of the High Wall. One is alive, though, Yoel, and if you let him, Yoel will lead the Ashen One to Yuria, the Sable Church, and ultimately, usurping the Flame.

Despite never having met, the Ashen One and Ludleth are intimately tied together. Ludleth links the Fire because of you, to try and stop you, and in doing so, he creates the conditions necessary for you to succeed. In true tragic fashion, his knowledge of the future comes back around to bite him.

But thematically, the two are parallels as well. Ludleth is unimportant: He’s not a king, he’s probably not even a Pygmy Lord (although if he was, what would it matter, outside the Ringed City as he is), he’s just a small, unimportant pygmy. What sets him apart is his determination: Ludleth believes, truly believes, in the Age of Fire, with a zeal that is probably matched only by Gwyn himself. Ludleth is so determined to see the Age of Fire continue that he doesn’t just burn once, he cuts off his own legs to keep himself from running from burning again. 

Of all the Lords of Cinder in game, he is the only one who went to his fate entirely willingly, without being either literally forced (Aldrich), raised for the sole purpose of burning (Lothric), facing the certain loss of sanity due to the Abyss (the Watchers), or facing the destruction of his home and the derision of his people (Yhorm) -- and then he does it a second time.

And isn’t that kind of exactly the same as the Ashen One?

The Ashen One is nobody, a nameless undead who failed to link the Flame. They have no place in history, nobody remembers them, and as far as we can tell they achieved nothing of value in their life. If you play through the game, though, the Ashen One will, through sheer grit, defeat four Lords of Cinder, topple the reign of Pontiff Sulyvahn, set fire to the Painted World so it can be renewed, and defeat the Soul of Cinder, the deific manifestation of every Lord. They never lose their mind, no matter how much they hollow, and they, of all the Unkindled, are the only one to even come close to bringing the absentee Lords back to their thrones -- they’re one of only three to even try.

Like Ludleth, the Ashen One is a determined nobody. Unlike Ludleth, though, the Ashen One isn’t content with just eking out a few more years for the Age of Fire. They would rather break the cycle.

[faintblueivy]

Remember I participated in Nanowrimo of this year. Mine got interrupted because of sudden exams. 

So I’ve finally started posting the novel I wrote. I’m so excited to share it with you all. And I’ll be extremely honored if you give it a read. 

Princess Ayana of Ruvesta was offered to Emperor Bekadna as a symbol of Peace Treaty. This is how the days of her torture and humiliation began. Years later, she stands amidst the ravaged ruination of the country she had sacrificed everything for, being forced to murder the man who had loved her, fought for her freedom and the safety of her country, she realizes that she may have lost but the wicked Emperor cannot win. Her last act of defiance ends with her own blood spilled and her life sacrificed to a poisoned blade. But a scared wish changes the course of fate and the tragedy of Princess Ayana ends with a ten years old royal princess waking up after a nightmare. Can Ayana fight what destiny has decided for her and her loved ones?

Here is the link for anyone who is interested!

Her is an extract from the first chapter:

The sky was painted in a violent shade of red mingling with orange and yellow hues, reflecting the chaos and screaming of  the people below. The capital was set ablaze, flames higher than ever, and indiscriminate slaughter of young and old followed. Children were snatched from mothers, women were raped and beaten. Cruel laughter gradually overpowered the screaming of innocents. The once alive streets were bathed in the red blood of dead people. It was a terror like history had never seen before.

The royal palace was no different.

He stalked through the large hallways, dragging her by hair, grinning as she stumbled and fell, showing no mercy as he violently yanked her up on her feet laughing maniacally at the pained yelp that escaped her lips.

The dread clawed at her throat when she realized the destination he was taking her to.

The throne room.

The place where her father had sat, ruled the country and had sold her to this madman for the safety and security of the people. To save his own hide and protect his beloved sons. But in the end, it hadn’t mattered. The insane tyrant had still done the slaughtering he wanted. She vividly remembered how the heads of her father and brothers had rolled and how the blood had splattered across her face, staining her vision with red.

The doors to the room opened, the large golden throne that sat atop the stairs was glowing red.

“You see that? My dear wife?” The man sneered at her, “The throne I’ve been waiting for so long is finally mine!” His grin sharpened at her glare of vengeful hatred. “I'm a kind and generous Emperor, dear wife. I am not shameless enough to ascend the throne of your kingdom without you by my side.”

Her once shining silver hair was matted with dirt and blood and her dress was in tatters. The bare minimum jewelry on her person had never seemed as heavier as it did now. He hauled her up like a ragdoll on the stairs and dropped himself on the throne with a grand gesture and forced her on her knees in front of him.

Her heart burned with humiliation.

“My lovely Ayana,” he cooed at her, “I have one more gift for you.”

Oh god, she hated how it made a shiver of absolute terror run down her spine. It must have shown on her face because he smiled gleefully before announcing, "Bring him in!”

The man his soldiers brought in was already half dead, naked. His skin was marked with uncountable cuts and slashes. Bruises and burns littered his ashen skin and his red hair seemed to clump together due to blood. She could see that a deep gash on his side was deeply infected, skin looked a sick purple color and swollen with infection. It looked beyond painful. But she didn’t recognize the man.

The devil behind her laughed, “How do you like my gift? I heard you were extremely close as children, Ayana?”

As soon as her name was uttered and the man looked up with absolute fury shining in his blue eyes. She had no control over the gasp that escaped her lips because this was not how she had ever wanted to see him. His gaze flew to her and his face morphed into one displaying an identical horror to hers. She could hear the tyrant laughing at her back but somehow the all she could stare at was him.

“Ryan?” she whispered to herself, her senses going numb.

The emperor leaned in, his lips almost touching her ear, “You know, he was my greatest adversary. He was the reason I had to wait so much to give you your absolute misery Ayana. It was all his fault.”

It was the only warning before kicked her in the back and as she was about to tumble down the stairs, he got a hold of her hair and jerked her back closer to him and bit the nape of her neck like an animal, hard enough to draw blood. A pained cry escaped her lips.

“Get your fucking hands off her! You bastard!” Ryan screamed and snarled and thrashed against the ten knights holding him back.

The tears that she had so valiantly held back, the screams she had bit her tongue for, were all threatening to break out of her. The absolute fury he was showing on her behalf clashed against the relief that she had seen on her family’s faces when they had sold her out to save their skins. Ryan had been the one fighting for her since the beginning.

Ayana, once upon a time, was the esteemed and beloved Princess of the Kingdom of Ruvesta and now, she was a broken and humiliated concubine of a monster. Everything she had ever known had changed. Her country was burnt down to ashes. Her family and people were dead. But the only thing that remained the same was Ryan. He had fought for her even when her world was right and he was fighting for even now when nothing was.

She watched as he struggled, only coming to senses when a soldier whipped him with a spiked whip. She whimpered for him as he refused to react, his blue eyes on her.

Everything will be alright. They seemed to say but Ayana was not the same naïve princess who had once lived in her own world.

“Please...please stop! Don’t hurt him anymore!” She begged, unable to bear him suffering more.

“Oh?” The emperor taunted, “You’re begging for him? You didn’t make a sound when I killed your family. You want him spared?”

“Yes. yes, please.” As much as it killed her to beg the man she hated the most in this world, she was not above bearing all kinds of humiliation if it meant keeping Ryan safe.

“Then why don’t you start off by licking clean my shoe?”

The deafening silence that followed his words broken by Ryan’s scream of rage as she trembled on the floor in absolute defeat.

“I will do it, just please...spare him.” It took everything in her to choke these words, eyes burning in shame as she lowered herself in front of this man.

“No! Oh god, no, please! Don’t do it!”

She ignored Ryan and his cries as she offered this man the last bit of her dignity.

“Please, your majesty…”

“Hm…I didn’t think you would be really willing to stoop so low for him. But since I’m a man of my word, so I’ll give you two options, dear wife. And you have two days to make your decision. First is, I spare his life but he spends the rest of his life in captivity with all kinds of tortures and punishments to entertain me. Since he is your dear friend he deserves all the special treatment I could get him.” He smirked at horror dawning on her face and leaned in. “Second is, he is lucky if you love him enough to put him out of his misery.” Those words were like a slap to her face and she felt her already shattered heart breaking into million pieces.  

She doesn’t remember what happened after that. Everything was a smudge of her senses whirling together in a mess that she couldn’t sort out. When she finally came back, she realized she had been locked up inside her old bedroom in the castle.

She had two days to decide Ryan’s fate. If she let him live, she’d be condemning him to a life of nothing but torture and pain and if she....

Oh god, how was she supposed to kill the most important person in her life?

She collapsed on the floor again, breathing hard.

Nothing felt real. She didn’t want it to be anything more than a nightmare.

She wished it to be over soon.

Continue Reading

...

Please, if you enjoyed the story then please leave a follow or comment! It would mean so much to me! and If you are planning to make an account on this site then please leave me a message. I can send you an invite link. It can help me get some points which will help a me - a college going student struggling financially - a lot! 

...Uh, I’ve never done self-promotion before so it’s a bit awkward but i’d love to listen if you could give me some advice about it!

...