#<- lest I forget l m a o

[duketectivecomics]

Since it’s 2024, I think it’s about time for my yearly PSA:

Hey, Hi 👋 in case it isn’t obvious, this is a Duke Thomas resource/archive blog, dedicated to raising awareness for Duke! I’ve got all sorts of great resources linked in my pinned post, including a Reading Rec list, FAQ, and info about our annual Duke Week! (& so much more!)

I want to especially encourage my followers to reblog this to help spread the word. I’m seeing more and more posts in Duke’s tag that are completely missing the mark when it comes to understanding Duke. One on hand, it’s great news bc that means more people are at least aware of duke (yaaaay)! On the other, it means he’s being subjected to fanon flanderization (boooo).

I want to encourage y’all because those kinds of posts are exactly why I made this blog in the first place. Duke is by FAR the easiest batfam member to read for. I’ve also curated a lot of great meta on him over the years & im always looking forward to adding more! Give this blog a follow, shoot me an ask, let’s learn more about Duke in 2024!!!

[the-11-doctor]

"you broke my door!" LIZZY AND DAMON SCRAPS

"And lest we forget whose house this is! You broke m y door, as far as I'm concerned." Somebody stop them, immediately. He's actually parenting her. "I told you it stays o p e n, and now it will! Problem s o l v e d."

Was taking the door off its hinges a step too far? Yes, for other fathers or parents, but Damon hasn't had the opportunity to gauge what sort of parent he is, and in testimony of Lizzy, he's garbage.

He only asked her o n c e to keep it open and saw it shut in passing, and god only knows what sort of trouble he assumes his own d a u g h t e r could get up to behind closed doors. It says a lot about h i m; more than it reflects Lizzy.

[strywoven]

@antinomos has requested a story : ❝ it’s wanting that gets so many folks in trouble. ❞ // kai @ kaen

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Ready and willing ( always , this need to appease & oblige ) , Kaen has taken the noose of newfound loyalty like a stray keen for punishment.  He did say , in the beginning , that one did not make contracts lest they had nowhere left to turn.  And Kaen did not tell him then , but it became apparent : they’ve truly nothing left to lose .  This i s their last resort , this i s their final march ( though neither really know to what extent ) ; A MEANS TO AN END .

And it is , of course , strange to note that there is some perverse sense of camaraderie here ( however one-sided ) .  Kaen has thought to blame those bred traditions for their fondness with Kai , but they know themself b e t t e r ; it goes far deeper , it is – as Kai might call it – a neurotic disposition that tends them towards the wretched in search of the worthy ( something they’ve not once been able to dispel ; a pity the symptoms might arouse again here , where they are unwelcome & undeserved ) .  But forgive them , they are - and always have been - a f r a g i l e creature at heart , privy to own folly and heart above all else ( even when it beats bloody & vulnerable upon their sleeves ) .

A meager comfort , thus , to simply have his c o m p a n y .  Though silence does not last long between them ( it never does ) .  Head cants at his remark , brows furrowing , mind turning.  ❝ Part’a the trouble’s the fact everyone wants somethin’ , though , ❞ Kaen says dryly , eyes flicking away in thought.  People will say PRIDE is the root of evil , yet greed sets the foundation for modern existence ( heroes , in particular , with the seeming commodification of protection , of peace itself ; oh yes , they’ve heard it all afore ) .  ❝ You … Have a pretty lofty goal yourself , y’know , a b i g want for things.  There’s bound t’be trouble in that , too.  I’d imagine that doesn’t mean anythin’ t’you , y’jus’ keep goin’ ‘til y’get it.  But … What’s there a f t e r that ?  Once y’get it , what d’you do ?  I mean , when I got m’freedom , I wanted — ❞ Their words cut abruptly , pointed ivories sinking sharply into their tongue to shut themself up ( keep your secrets , he doesn’t want them , he doesn’t need them ) .  They clear their throat , ❝ — Nothin’.  Forget it. ❞

[otakusheep15]

SFW Alphabet - Simeon

This man seriously owns my entire heart. Like, I would trade all of the brothers just to be with him, no questions asked lmao

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Surprisingly, he’s not that affectionate. Well, at least not physically. He enjoys spending time with you and being in the same room, but he hardly ever craves psychical affection like the brothers do. The farthest he usually goes is hand-holding and maybe a little hand kiss too, but he rarely goes beyond that unless he’s feeling especially clingy that day. Just being near you is enough for him really. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Friendship with him can go one of two ways. He’d either baby you like he does with Luke, or lowkey bully you like he does with Lucifer, no in between. It really depends on how you are as a person and how he sees you. If he sees you as someone who needs protecting and is a bot more on the childish side, you’ll totally be another Luke to him. And if you’re someone whose more on the opposite end of that spectrum, calm, composed, serious, he’ll treat you more like he does Lucifer. But he loves you all the same. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddling is probably the one exception to the lack of physical affection. He loves nothing more than to curl up next to you in bed after a long day of dealing with RAD, Luke, and Solomon’s “cooking”. He especially loves laying his head on your chest so that he can listen to your heartbeat. It just calms him down and reminds him that you’re really here with him. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Man is the definition of malewife (besides Barb), so of course he’s amazing at any kind of chore. He’s also gotten quite good at household chores after having to take care of Luke for so long. And, trust me, he would love to settle down with you. Maybe Luke could come along too? That would be ideal. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d be super gentle about it. The last thing he wants is to make the situation any worse than it’s gonna get, so he breaks the news as calmly as possible. If the situation did somehow escalate, he would try is best to get everything under control lest someone get hurt (physically or emotionally). 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As much as he’d love to get married, he also wants to take it slow. He understands that relationships need time to develop, so he wants to wait until both of you are absolutely sure before going any further. After all, marriage is a big commitment to an angel, so it’s important that everything is perfect. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is so gentle. Like, he’s the best when it comes to care. Maybe it’s just his instincts as an angel, but he feels the need to protect you from any harm whatsoever. He always makes sure he has permission before touching you anywhere, and he’s constantly checking up on you and making sure you’re feeling well. really, he just wants you to feel as comfortable as possible with him.  

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes hugs, but he doesn’t give them out too often. It’s almost always you who goes to him for hugs first unless he’s in a really good mood. But he’ll never deny anyone who does want a hug, especially you (and Luke). 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Honestly, he probably waits a while before saying it. In fact, you might end up being the one to say it first. He wants to take things slow, and the last thing he wants is to make you feel rushed by saying it too quickly. He loves you very much, and you’re both highly aware of that, but actually saying the words takes time for him. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Surprisingly, he gets really jealous really easily. Not so surprisingly, he’s very good at hiding it. He just hates how much time you spend with the brothers, and he’ll use anything to get you to come over. His most common excuses usually involve either Luke or Solomon needing supervision and him needing help with that. He never means to guilt trip or gaslight, but he lowkey might if it means getting you to him quicker.  

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He is a sucker for for hand kisses, both giving and receiving. They’re just so romantic to him, and they don’t take much effort either. His kisses, regardless of where they are, are super loving and romantic. All he wants to do is sweep you off your feet and make you feel loved. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

*cough*Luke*cough* All jokes aside, he does really love children. He just loves how innocent and joyful they can be, and he loves how they speak their minds since most don’t have a filter. The chaos they can get into is also an added bonus, even if it can be a hassle to clean up afterwards. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings can go one of two ways. The preferred way is you two waking up around the same time and just staying in bed for a couple hours enjoying each other’s company. These mornings are usually filled with sweet words and soft touches. The other, less preferred way, is absolute chaos. It doesn’t matter if you stay at the HoL or PH, there will be chaos. And one (or both) of you is going to have to fix it. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He tends to stay up late working, so you can either go to bed and he’ll join later, or you can stay up with him. Either way, he’ll try and finish up as quickly as possible so that he can curl up with you in bed. If his day was especially stressful, he’ll hold you close to him and rant about all of his worries. Side note: please pet his hair, he deserves it. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s actually pretty open with you, which is kinda surprising. I mean, he does have his secrets he’d much rather keep, but who doesn’t. However, he also knows the value of trust in a relationship, so he tries his hardest to be open and honest with you as possible. He hopes that you’ll do the same as well. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

The freakin definition of patience. He’s dealt with so much throughout his life, so he’s grown to have an amazing temperament. Of course he can get annoyed (*cough*the play*cough*) but he does so well at controlling it most of the time. This patience is specifically applied to you and Luke. You could literally murder someone and he probably still wouldn’t be mad. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’d remember most of what you say, but he’d hardly ever utilize it like some of the brothers do. He’ll use the information in more subtle ways. You mention. a certain flavor of cake you like? He makes sure Luke makes some during hsi next baking session. Any shows you enjoy? He may not watch them depending on the length, but he’ll do some research on them so that he can talk to you about it. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite memory is this one time you came over to bake with Luke. Luke, precious thing, was trying out this new recipe, and he was super excited about it. But, of course, Solomon had to come in and mess everything up and now the kitchen and half the house is a mess. Luke is super upset, Solomon is lowkey enjoying it, and Simeon is there watching the world burn around him. And through it all, you stayed there and helped them clean up even when you didn’t have to. He just found it so sweet that you took the time to help Luke and also the rest of the Hall as well. It ended up being a fun day even if he did scold Solomon for hours afterwards. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s decently protective, but that’s mostly is angelic instincts. Angels have that natural instinct to protect humans, so he had that urge even before you two became a thing. And that urge only became stronger as you two got closer. However, his protection comes in more subtle ways, like most of his gestures. Someone getting a bit too close to you? He’ll put his arm about you and slowly back you away. The brothers are fighting again? He’ll step in front of you to make sure you’re not caught in the cross-fire. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Like pretty much everything else, he’s much more subtle with his dates. He prefers more lowkey options, like a picnic or just hanging out in either his room or yours. You guys never do anything over-the-top, and he likes it that way. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He tends to prioritize others over himself a lot, and he’s been trying to work on it for a while. And, obviously, he’s terrible with tech. I honestly have no clue how he’s survived this long not knowing how a D.D.D. works past the basics.  

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s naturally pretty, so he doesn’t need to care. Jokes aside, he isn’t one to particularly care for his looks. He does want to look nice and presentable, but it isn’t usually a top priority compared to someone like Asmo or Mammon. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

WIthout a doubt. He tends to get attached to people very easily, and you’re no exception. Once you two being getting close, it’s over for him. From then on, he’s attached to you. If something were to happen to you, he would simply cease to exist. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He and Michael totally had something going on at one point. Maybe they still have something going on. Hell, maybe even Luci was involved at one point. I have no clue where this idea came from, but it’s in my head and so now all of you are being subjected to it as well. 

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

People who dislike Luke are a big no for him. Sorry, they’re a package deal. You want him? Well, now you have a child too.  

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He tends to make noises in his sleep. It’s not really cohearent words or anything, more just like light snores and stuff. Kinda like a dog when it really gets into a dream, ya know? 

[multiiiplicity]

“ R . . . R - R H A A S T . . . “

THE ALBINO WAS HANGING FROM THE CEILING, WRISTS BOUND ABOVE HIS HEAD WITH SHACKLES. All the strength that remained in his body went for his attempts to keep standing on the tips of his toes, lest his wrists and shoulders dislocate.

SO MANY TIMES HE ESCAPED THIS CELL. For months now, Zed would get recaptured for interrogation and then make an escape again in an attempt to flee Noxus through Valoran only to get lost. He was unfamiliar with the place, unfamiliar with the language, with the architecture, and with the people.

BUT HE HELD ON.

NOT A SINGLE ANSWER TO THE COUNCIL WAS GRANTED, no matter the question asked. No matter how obvious and H A R M L E S S giving them the answer would be. Zed refused to G I V E to the Noxians and so they T O O K away instead.

THE TIPS OF HIS FINGERS, BLOODY. His nails were cleanly torn off by Vision’s claw and there were pieces of tattooed flesh missing, revealing live meat with the Tear’s marking beneath - for the ink etched itself and seeped all the way down to Zed’s bones. The scars on his wrists left from Tuula’s imprisonment were irritated and sliced into, the metal confining him becoming slick and wet with his blood. His eyes were swollen and puffy, the dark circles under his eyes from the Tear’s eternal nightmares haunting him were now nearly completely black, and the eyelids were redder than the albino’s usual look from his excessive crying over the last few days.

HE WAS CRYING FOR NO OTHER REASON THAN THE FACT THAT THE NOXIAN’S ACTIONS BROUGHT HIM TO AN ENTIRE NEW PLACE AND STATE OF MIND AT TIMES.

ZED WOULD FORGET WHERE HE WAS AND WHO HE WERE - D I S S O C I A T E , SHEN CALLED IT ONCE - AND BECOME CONFUSED AND SCARED BEYOND HIS COMPREHENSION LATER WHEN HE’S COME TO.

ZED COUGHED, THEN GURGLED, collecting blood and snot and mucus before he spat it all aside by his trembling. His W H O L E body shook, in fact, but he was trying to ignore the problem rather than do something about it. All if his attention was devoted to the tall Darkin before him -

ONLY THAT EVEN IN HIS BATTERED STATE - BLACK AND PURPLE SPOTS OVERLAP WITH CUTS AND LASHES, Zed could tell that this was not the Rhaast he knew. Pale brows darkened by crimson ichor knitted together to frown as his eyes darted around the other’s form. It was a C H O R E to try and keep his eyes locked to one spot, for they always tried to dash around or roll backwards and close down, but Zed forced himself to try and keep them on Rhaast’s form.

THIS WAS NOT HIS SON, THE DARKIN, but Zed felt at ease when his eyes skimmed over the man’s features. Some would call his face gnarly, some would run away and scream “ D E M O N “  - however Zed came to recognize this as the face of his thousands of years, deadlier and wiser little son figure.

EVEN IF THIS WASN’T HIM, ZED HOPED THIS RHAAST BORE NO ILL INTENTION TOWARDS HIM. HE’S HOPED THEY WERE ON GOOD TERMS.

THAT’S WHAT HE REMEMBERED, AT LEAST.

“Rha...ast... R U N . . . Please... Please don’t get caught.” His voice trembled.

@sun-scorned​

[yukiwrites]

Byleth, Revealing the Truth

Thank you for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This is always so interesting to work on! >v<)

Summary: Coming to terms with the realization that he will never see Sothis again, Byleth finally confronts Rhea in front of the student body and reveals the truth of the deep and dark secrets the Church had been keeping for a thousand years...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 -  Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8  - Part 9 - Part 10  - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15

The air underground felt thicker and thicker with magical energy the closer they got to the Holy Tomb. Byleth could almost hear the memories unraveling around him, taking everything he had to simply look ahead and lead the way.

The students -- Claude, Linhardt and Ignatz especially -- explored the stones with deep curiosity, whispering amongst themselves while coming up with this or that theory about the place's origins. Once they descended through a mysterious contraption -- something Byleth's memories told him was called 'elevator' -- the awed gasps increased.

There it lay, right in front of them -- the gargantuan underground space known as the Holy Tomb.

"Are you surprised, Professor? This is the Holy Tomb." Rhea pressed her lips into a thin line, as though testing Byleth's grasp in Sothis' memories. The young Professor simply chewed his lower lip and took a short breath, seeing the young Rhea giggling and twirling around herself in every single place he directed his gaze to.

Standing on Byleth's left, Dimitri looked around with large eyes. "Incredible. To think such a vast space has been hiding beneath the Monastery all this time. I wonder what powers that giant mechanism that descends beneath the ground." He whispered the last part more to himself, taking a hand to his chin in thought.

Rhea's steps turned hastier as they approached the throne sitting on the opposite side of the entrance. It overlooked any and all who entered, centered so as to watch over the countless sarcophagi scattered all over the grounds.

"This is where the goddess who created this world was laid to rest, along with her children." She gestured vaguely from the sarcophagi to the throne. "It is said," she tried very hard to suppress her smirk, "that our creator, the goddess Sothis, sat upon this very throne." She let the words sink in for a moment, waiting for when Byleth's gaze turned to her. "Do you recognize this throne, Professor?"

"What, why would he know about this? Is that because he received the power from the goddess?" Claude blurted out from the position Hanneman had guided the Golden Deers to, crossing his arms in confusion.

"I do not think now's the time to ask such questions, Claude..." Ignatz shook his head beside Claude, whispering as low as he could, though still falling victim to the mysterious echo of the Holy Tomb.

"Now's precisely the time to ask questions, though..." Unsatisfied, but intent on staying put for the time being, Claude crossed both hands behind his head, feigning nonchalance.

Byleth looked away from Rhea towards the throne, clutching his chest and embracing the lump in his throat. "I do." He replied simply, making the Archbishop blink enthusiastically and clap her hands gracefully.

"So long... So long have I waited for this very day." Her eyes looked glazed over; her controlled smile just a step from conveying the deep-rooted madness within. "Go, Professor," she urged the young man through the steps. "Sit upon the throne. I have no doubt -- no doubt! -- that you will be gifted a r-revelation from the goddess." She bit her lower lip in anticipation.

Byleth gazed upon the throne, feeling the heat escape his body and his throat go dry.

He had just seen it inside his head, barely a week ago. He had gone up these very steps within his mind to console Sothis when she had regained her memory, just a few weeks previous. He had seen her sit upon it countless, countless times inside their shared memories.

His eyes burning, Byleth gripped the hilt of the Sword of the Creator on his hip and climbed the steps, one by one; one by one.

The more the throne approached, the more visions Byleth could see -- of Rhea, of Sothis, of her children; even of a young Seteth -- and his legs started trembling. He knew that if he had a normal heart, this would be the moment where it would be beating so loud he would barely be able to hear his own breathing.

Alas, his chest was as silent as ever, though if only his mind could say the same...

He touched the cold stone of the throne's hand rest, feeling a crackle of energy clashing with the one being emitted from his own body. Taking a deep breath, the professor slowly took a seat in the middle of the large throne, reminding him of how small Sothis always looked whenever she sat on it inside their shared mindscape.

Closing his eyes, Byleth felt a surge of memories cascading through his mind.

He could almost, almost hear Sothis' voice again, though it all stemmed from his own memories.

“You fool!! Do not go asking questions you might regret hearing the answer to!”    “Give it to her! Get away from here this instant! I cannot bear this conversation any longer!” He could hear her voice almost as clear as day, though he knew, deep within himself, that this was all just his own wishful thinking showing him what he wanted to see.

“I condone the way you forcefully try to yank it all out of me.”      “Your mind has been wandering and wandering…”      “Sothis, also known as The Beginning. I identify with both aliases, as does the goddess.”      “Am I simply a part of the goddess? The conscience once calls ‘self’? If so, is that the reason why I bear the appearance of a child?” Her voice as she condoned or comforted him made the Professor press his own lips into a thin line, a deep frown squeezing his eyes shut lest they overflowed with grief.

“Experiment? What- Did I go through such a thing in the past?”       “NO! No, no! Nooo!” “This… this is… It’s how I died.”

Byleth could barely keep himself from expressing his own grief, watching his and Sothis’ shared memories play out inside his mind.

“So that is why I did not want to remember…”      “Will you come with me?”    “Thank you…”      “I have the memories back, not the powers! Oh, why-why must this happen…!”      “What a beautiful love it must’ve been.”      “Your Father had been wary of her from day one.”

“Indeed… The wicked must be punished.”

“It was that simple, young one. She wanted to see me again.”

Byleth opened his eyes, his gaze meeting Rhea’s.

“She wanted to bring me back to life, Byleth, by using your body as a medium. I’d wager she almost succeeded this time.”       “Even though we’ve been together ever since you were born, it is a shame that I’ve only awoke a few months ago.”        “It is not the same as death, silly child. I will always be with you, quite literally.”

“We simply… will not be able to talk like this. I shall miss it.”

Rhea’s expression started to crumble. “Well…?”

“Can I be selfish just one more time?”      “Could you- hug me?”      “This will be the very last time anyway, for all eternity.”

Byleth slowly ascended from the throne, taking quiet steps down the stairs towards the Archbishop.

“Thank you… I’m glad it was with you to whom my fate was bound.”

The Professor stopped midway to the staircase, taking a deep breath and turning to the throne, bowing slightly to it. "I'm sorry, my friend... I’ll try to keep my promise as best I can, but…” He raised his gaze to the cold stone, then back to the increasingly nervous Archbishop.

Averting her gaze, Byleth tried to walk past her in a strangled silence, but she took his arm with a force that did not match her frail-looking get-up.

"W-wait, Professor? What happened? It w-was supposed to be just a step away..." Her voice derailed as her eyes shook -- the color seeped out of her face with each breath she took. "Answer me!"

"L-Lady Rhea, pray let the Professor go-" Dimitri tried to touch Rhea's hand which gripped Byleth's arm, but was shook off by the increasingly unhinged Archbishop.

"Do not interfere, child!" She hissed, her eyes and cheeks hollowing in despair.

Byleth's brow flickered with anger, so he, too, shook off Rhea's hand. "Don't touch my students." His voice was low, but somber, full of authority and barely controlled anger.

It was as though he had the poise of a god for the entire room fell silent as chills spread around everyone's spines.

Hanneman and Manuela exchanged glances, ready to haul the students out at any indication of Rhea losing control.

"I'm not a tool for your schemes anymore, Rhea! What did you want to happen, truly? To have Sothis possess my body and live and speak through my mouth? You can't ever replicate her body! It would've been a prison just as cruel as the one they put her through!"

"NO! No- no, she would be free! She would walk amongst us again- M-mother...! She would- reconstruct herself once she regained her powers-" Rhea blabbed, her field of vision and consciousness narrowing to Byleth only, forgetting about the dozens of onlookers.

Byleth clutched his chest, "regained what powers? Through a limited vessel there was no way to channel them! She could only keep the form of an amnesic child! Haven't you realized that the power of her soul can't be contained only in her Crest Stone?! The most she could do was wish to know who she was!"

Rhea's eyes widened so, they almost bulged out of her skull. "F-form of a child? No memories...? But then, how do you- how did she give you this power- o-oh, Mother..."

The Professor's chin trembled with the overlapped version of Rhea and her child self, his eyes burning with tears -- no doubt stemming from Sothis' side of his soul. "She!" He didn't notice he raised his voice until it left his throat. "She didn't want me to resent you up until the very end. She asked me to be merciful to the child who was most attached to her." His voice trembled and he could feel that a single tear escaped, though he was quick to dry it with the back of his hand.

Rhea's legs gave out. "M-mother..." She dug her face into her hands; her entire body, that once felt imposing and all-knowing, trembled and shivered like a lost little girl who simply missed her mother.

The students watched with glazed eyes, not knowing what to think or where all of that came from, most of their mouths agape in shock.

Byleth gave his back to the sobbing Rhea, turning to the audience. His eyes met his coworkers, though he could only see their worry for him in their expressions. He simply nodded and looked away from them towards every single student. "I'm sure you all have many questions." He managed to control his voice and grip at his sword to ground himself. "What failed to happen just now was the resurrection of the goddess." He declared, noticing how the air itself started to waver due to the students' anxiety. He took out his weapon and hung it overhead.

The Sword of the Creator shone in its characteristic red glow, stealing every pair of eyes towards it. "I have been housing the consciousness of the goddess inside me, which is why I am able to wield the weapon that was made with her very own bones."

A low 'eek' was heard amongst the students, though was deafened by Claude's loud objection. "Bones? What'dya mean by that, Teach? Are you saying...?"

Byleth nodded, pointing towards the House Leader. "Failnaught," he went from Claude to Dimitri, "Areadbhar," then towards the spot the Blue Lions stood at, "The Crusher, Aegir Shield, the Lance of Ruin, Lùin..." Then, he looked back to the Alliance House, "Freikugel, Thyrsus... They were all made out of the bones and crystallized blood of the children of the goddess. That I can wield the Sword of the Creator without its own Crest Stone is the proof -- for the crystallized blood of the goddess rests within my own heart."

"B-bones?" Ingrid's grasp on Lùin faltered, allowing it to fall with a loud clang on the ground. "B-but the ancient texts..."

"The Church has been manipulating the information of what happened a millennia ago to hide the true nature of the tragedy." Byleth placed the tip of his sword on the ground, resting both hands upon its hilt. "I'm sure none of you forgot what happened at Remire village." He let his words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "Those who were behind the attack on the village, as well as behind the murder of my father... They were the ones who, a thousand years ago, murdered the goddess and her children, drank their blood and made weapons out of their very bodies." His throat itched as the information was difficult to say. His eyes fell upon Flayn, who looked down in unfathomable grief. She had also been there, back then, as Sothis' memories imbued within the Sword of the Creator told him.

Mercedes and Marianne covered their faces with horror, being comforted by Annette and Hilda respectively, while the most devout students stared at the space without knowing what to think.

Edelgard took a step forward, seeing an opportunity. "Are you saying that we should topple the Church and let the people be free to believe in whatever gods they wish, Professor? This is all SO very surprising..."

Byleth shook his head. "Topple it? No. But it needs immediate reform. The people deserve to know the truth."

"Interesting." The Imperial Princess took the same step back, glancing around to watch everyone's reactions at the same time a loud wail exploded behind Byleth.

It was Rhea.

Her grief was so deep that she completely forgot how many millennia had been since she had been a little girl.

She cried and howled with the pain within her heart. "LEAVE! All of you- leave this place! Mother's- Mother's resting holy ground!" She bellowed as she dug her face deeper within her hands.

Byleth pressed his lips into a thin line, glancing back at Rhea then towards his fellow professors. They all nodded in agreement and started to herd the students to the exit.

"Wait, wait, wait, we're leaving? I still have a lot to ask, though!" Claude scurried to Byleth while Manuela had to physically maim Linhardt out of his spot.

"I'll answer whatever you want." Byleth nodded to the House Leader, then looked over his shoulder to the aghast students. "Whatever you all want. But for now..." he clutched his chest, trying not to think of the pain of losing his one and only friend for good. "For now, let's leave her to mourn on her own." He whispered under Rhea's loud wails.

The Archbishop climbed on the steps and threw herself on the throne, hugging it as though she did her mother, crying like she hadn’t cried in ages past.

I'll protect her from the public scorn however I can... I hope that's enough to fulfill my promise, Sothis. 

[crystalliccs]

@makersruins​ – Crystal Tower Era.

ONE SKILLFUL HAND GRABBED for one particular SCROLL in one of the wooden boxes on his humble desk - one incredibly valuable relic of ancient past who he had managed to acquire just several suns ago, claiming it could help to provide a  p o s s i b l e   SOLUTION to enter the central spire. Yet, as he realized merely a few hours later after studying such ancient document, it was naught more than another heroic tale, more likely written after the Crystal Tower’s construction. Indeed, the lecture itself was still quite  v a l u a b l e  – in its own aspect – but unfortunately without any further clues. At least it could now function as example to prove his THESIS, if Thyra could afford time to indulge in the written text. And if she insisted, he was more than  w i l l i n g  to read it out for her, of course.

MINDLESSLY THE YOUNG HISTORIAN carefully placed the scroll on top the PILE OF TOMES he already arranged for her, placing his thumb underneath his chin, clearly in thought. He had spoken about the Second Astral Era to explain the newly found approach and the significant importance of the mages centuries later and naturally, in order for her to understand the true origins of the Allagan Empire, he had to briefly mention the Third Umbral Era as well. He was certain to have  f u l l y  explained the relation to these historical events; yet he was uncertain how to proceed now, after having started to elaborate the details of the Allagan Empire. As young boy it always had been quite helpful for him to associate certain topics with certain faces and names – alas history itself was not as easily told and remembered. Ruins and remains of the past were so easily  b u r i e d  underneath the ground or have turned to DUST over the eons. Truthfully, it was an historian’s lifework to be as utmost  a c c u r a t e  as possible lest knowledge would endure with severe misinformation.

REDDISH EARS FLOPPED to his head in slight frustration as a rather grim expression filled his  u n e q u a l  colored eyes. Perchance he should not be so easily  a g i t a t e d  as he was right now – and it was most certainly not her fault that his mood had been rather  f o u l  lately. At least she seemed interested to learn; one TRAIT he could greatly respect. And truthfully, to be able to talk like this – freely, without any unnecessary interruptions, was indeed comforting his mind if only for a little. The young man slightly sighed, shrugging as he faced her again.

  ❝Alas I fear most names of the Third Astral Era are long forgotten to history.    Well, with a few exceptions.     The most prominent and important individuals of this age     such as high-ranking archmages,     imperial generals or members of the allagan royalty are fairly     commonly mentioned in different ancient scripts, studied     by my Baldesion colleagues. For instance, you fought General Phlegethon,     a known rebellion leader who was later captured, imprisoned and     then altered through means yet unknown to us. Indeed, there is so much     we still do not understand so many centuries later. ‘Tis easy to     assume that the allagan’s invented aetherochemistry played great role     in such endeavor, however. ’Twas such ambition of creating an easier     life for everyone, not solely through bloodshed, which lead to the     golden age of prosperity. Well, I already told you that the Crystal Tower     was constructed to collect and store the endless energies of the sun –     one fathomless undertaking to our current aetherical knowledge.     Nevertheless, the crystal spire now stands tall in front of us     as last remaining witness of unlimited knowledge,     erected during peaceful times. Say my friend, can you comprehend yet     how discovering the origins of such technology will lead us     to be eternalized in historian annals?     My blood already sings with anticipation!     I wished I…❞

THE YOUNG MAN PAUSED IN HIS WORDS, eyes widening upon seeing the dim flickering of oil lamps behind her, outside his cramped tent. He was no fool to  n o t  realize it was night by now – albeit he failed to fathom  h o w   he could not have realized this much sooner. How long had she been with him? Listening to his endless monologue for too many countless hours? Guilt dripped into his limbs upon such REALIZATION that he had, i n d e e d, shamelessly used her to forget his own frustrations for a little while. Forgetting this nagging FEELING OF UNCERTAINTY; of numbing helplessness upon his own  c o n d e m n e d  fate. He was so very used to only be by himself, brooding over his studies and troubles in a veil of silence, that he had forgotten how it was to have company. Particularly someone like  h e r – a praised hero whose strength was indeed worthy of its tales. Perchance because it has been the  v e r y   f i r s t t i m e  to be able to enjoy such moment with another was why he had failed to notice – and mayhap even made her uncomfortable with his bold explanations of HISTORY.

    ❝My apologies, my friend.       ‘Tis true you asked me to elaborate the events of the Third Astral Era       but I fear I’ve taken too much of your attention and time.❞

[chasingrainbcws]

          PALE.   Whiter than white, like fresh-fallen snow against a scarlet canvas, covering the blood shed decades ago -----------------------   BLOOD   that he would not wash away by choice, if the choice was his. Musty is the smell as dust covers calloused palms, a precaution learned through hardship   (   bruises, blisters, broken flesh   ) ;   muscle memory retains only so much. One must keep the body   l i m b e r   lest it wither and cripple with time, with age. Look fondly back on trying times, for then you were but a caterpillar struggling within the vice of your chrysalis, become   more -----------------           ------- and soon,   f l i g h t.   The ascent had always been exciting; taut muscle draws thin limbs up, up !   whilst silk is gripped in snow-dusted palm and the earth is left behind. Climbing, ever-climbing toward the stars so far beyond the reach of   one so small,   of one born into   DESTITUTION, DISADVANTAGE.   It was a far reach.. but one well worth the efforts. Has he ever stopped climbing ?   Wiry tail tangles with curtains, twisting body in wide arches; thighs wind the sheets tight, a support for when hands fall away ------------------------- safe, yet not safe. The air is thinner up here, and only one   b r e a t h   is enough to stir his sleeping heart.   There’s no one to catch him if he falls.. not anymore.   Like a spire, a wheel, he turns and coils in hypnotic aureole, the vicious edge of a flexible appendage lashing, vibrant and grand shapes cast to his figure as hips loosen,   u n l o c k.   He is   OPEN,   stretched and exposed, like a beating heart laid bare beneath the knife. He misses this, sometimes.. and other times, he wishes he could simply forget.           The glow of the spotlight   (   but an illusion now, no more than a dim fluorescent pulsing with the last of it’s life between rotting rafters and rusty grate   )   had beckoned so beautifully, so deceptively.   Come to me,   it had promised, it’s whisper honey-sweet to hide the venomous truth.   I am the way out.   ----------------------------- That mockery still haunts him in the shadow of reality. There   was   NO WAY OUT..   not for the ones like   him.   Even knowing this.. why does he still climb ?   What is he reaching for now..?   Wide eyes ever-clouded with stars watch the brightest of those fairy-lights drift in and out of focus. A shadow ?   An   i l l u s i o n ?   A pair of scarlet pools burning between ivory sheets, dark plume ------------------------           He was so high up ----------------------------------------- why couldn’t   HE   be there, too..?           Reeling. Barbed spine curls to caress his makeshift chrysalis, retreating to the solace of his own darkness, knees drawn to jagged jaw ------------- and then,   b u r s t i n g   outward, the tight grasp of talons loosed to send him   falling   --------------------------------------- no.           FLYING.   He is   f l y i n g,   reckless Icarus, but the Heavens are falling away, the stars staggered in his gaze as the control and elegance of his ascent is undone, loop by loop;   why do you feel the need to fall ?   There’s no one to catch you now..   ---------------------------- wild, spinning, out of control and spiraling down toward destruction, away from the stars, away from the honeyed smile and sugared words from privileged lips that were all too good to ever be true, and he   won’t be deceived by that beckoning light again ---------------------------------- .. He never meets the ground. The final loop cinches about his waist, threaded between agile limbs, a safety net crafted by clawed hands which leaves him hovering in the wake of a jolt to his bones.           There’s no one to catch him now --------------------------- so he must learn to catch   himself.

[queenlnss-a]

ALTERNATE  UNIVERSE  :  Superhero  /  vigilante    (  tag  ). AGE  :  Twenty  to  twenty - five  years  old    (  default  ). SPECIES  :  Mutant. ALIAS  :  Mnemosyne,  The  Mnemosyne,  Cuimhne,  Ainigma. FACE  CLAIM  :  Dianna  Agron,  Stana  Katic. TRIGGERS  :  Blood,  sexual  content,  alcohol  consumption,  violence,  death,  expletives,  possible  torture,  weapon  use    (  firearms,  knives,  etc.  ).

P O I N T S    O F    I N T E R E S T

Quinn’s  mutation  is  MEMORY  MANIPULATION,  which  essentially  means  that  she  can  erase,  replace  and  suppress    (  more  explained  here  )    the  memories  of  herself  and  others  at  will.  It  manifested  at  the  age  of  sixteen  after  her  actions  caused  an  altercation  between  herself  and  another  student  resulting  in  their  injury  and  the  erasure  of  her  existence  from  her  town’s  memories.

Although  this  tends  to  vary,  Quinn  does  not  usually  like  to  join  superhero  groups  or  teams.  She  was,  however,  associated  with  the    X - men    for  a  short  period  of  time  between  the  ages  of  eighteen  and  nineteen,  a  fact  that  not  many  people  remember  as  she  worked  with  them  under  a  different  alias  during  that  period  of  time.  Despite  this,  she  is  open  to  the  idea  under  certain  circumstances.

For  the  most  part,  Quinn  is  NOT  at  peace  with  her  abilities,  and  for  the  longest  time,  she  was  in  a  very  deep  denial  with  what  she  was.  She  does  learn  to  be  more  accepting  of  her  mutation  over  time,  eventually  learning  to  live  with  the  idea  of  being  somewhat  abnormal.  Having  mental  abilities  does  it  easier  for  her  to  blend  in  and  pass  as  human,  which  she  is  grateful  for,  but  she  seldom  lets  people  into  her  life,  lest  they  find  out  what  she  truly  is.

It’s  important  to  note  that  quinn    does  not    fight  crime  to  be  a    ‘  hero  ’.    It  started  out  as  a  way  to  hone  her  powers  and  learn  some  control,  and  at  one  point  she  considered  it  a  potential  reason  to  become  make  a  name  for  herself.  She  does  not  consider  it  to  be  a  job,  rather  more  as  a    h o b b y.    Qhen  she  isn’t  fighting  crime,  she’s  studying  English  Language  at  college.

A R C S

PRE - POWERS  :  From  ages  14 - 16.  set  in  the  part  of  her  life  before  she  knew  about  her  powers,  Quinn  is  just  an  average  teenage  girl  trying  to  make  her  way  through  high  school.

SUPERHERO  /  VIGILANTE    (  default  )  :  From  ages  21 - 38.  Over  the  years,  Quinn  has  learned  to  control  and  contain  her  powers,  and  now  it’s  time  to  give  back.  the  media  knows  her  as  MNEMOSYNE,  named  after  the  Goddess  of  Memory  in  Greek  Mythology.  her  friends  just  know  her  simply  as  Quinn.

H I S T O R Y

EVERYBODY  REMEMBERS  THE  FIRST  TIME          their  powers  manifested.  It  hits  you  like  a    s l a p    to  the  face.  One  minute,  you’re  normal,  and  the  next,  you’re  thrust  into  the  world  of  the  unknown.

                    Quinn  never  expected  to  be  one  of  them.  It  was  just  a  story,  something  she  heard  about  on  the  news  that  was  usually  followed  by  her  father’s  SCOFF  and  a  prejudiced  comment.  They  were  an  average  family  in  an  average  town  with  regular  jobs  and  friends.  Her  sister  was  like  every  other  human  on  earth,  and  for  the  longest  time,  Quinn  thought  that  she  was,  too.  She  hoped  she  was,  because  the  world  wasn’t  ready  to  accept  just  yet  and  neither  was  she.

                    Her  community  wasn’t  particularly  WELCOMING  to  the  idea  of  mutants.  The  first  one  that  ever  announced  themselves  was    driven  out    of  their  home  and  forced  to  hide  away  elsewhere,  but  for  a  while,  it  was  okay.  Until  it  wasn’t.  Until  her  sophomore  year  of  high  school  when  she  became  head  cheerleader  of  the  school’s  cheerleading  team.  Her  parents  were  proud,  and  her  peers  had  nothing  but  positive  things  to  say,  but  all  the  while,  she  felt  something    b u b b l i n g    within  her,  cold  and  unwanted.  It  made  her  SHARP  and  quick  to  anger,  and  despite  her  growing  popularity,  she  found  it  harder  to  keep  her  friends.

                    Sometimes  she  still  can’t  decide  whether  it  was  because  of  her    powers    or  because  she  could  part  the  hallways  like  the  Red  Sea.

                    Mid - November.  Some  party  at  a  fellow  cheerleader’s  house.  Quinn  only  decided  to  go  because  all  of  the  other  COOL  KIDS  were  going  and  it  would  seem  out  of  place  if  she’d  turned  down  the  offer.  One  thing  led  to  another,  and  she  wound  up  having  sex  with  the  school  quarterback.  He  seemed  like  a  nice  guy,  like  someone  she  could  trust  and  maybe  even  date,  but  over  the  next  few  weeks,  nobody  could  take  their  eyes  off  of  her.  Wherever  she  went,  they  would  stop  and  STARE,  and  when  she  walked  away,  the  whispers  would  follow.  Quinn  was  used  to  people  looking  her  way,  but  their  eyes  were  judgmental  and  their  tones  were  mocking.  That,  she  wasn’t  used  to.

                    So  she  cornered  him  during  a  parent - teacher  meeting  and  demanded  to  know  what  he’d  done.  It  wasn’t  big.  Just  told  the  football  team  that  he’d  taken  her  virginity,  who  then  went  on  to  tell  the  rest  of  the  school,  but  it  was  enough  to  make  the  bubbling  rise  again  from  deep  within.  Betrayed  and  hurt,  she  wanted  them  to  forget,  to  make  her  classmates  forget,  for  everything  to  return  to  NORMAL  and  for  them  to  not  think  she  was  one  of  those  girls.  She  remembers  a    blinding    white  light  behind  her  eyes  and  a  heat  that  burned  like  FIRE  in  her  veins.  When  she  woke  up,  she  was  in  a  hospital  bed.  The  star  quarterback  was  in  a  coma,  and  her  classmates  had  forgotten  who  she  was.

                    At  first,  she’d  thought  it  was  a  joke  when  all  she  got  were  puzzling  stares  the  first  day  she  went  back  to  school,  but  it  became  more  real  when  her  teachers  began  to  ask  if  she  was  an  attending  student.  Every  time  she  reminded  them,  they  seemed  to  find  it  more    d i f f i c u l t    to  remember  who  she  was.  But  that  wasn’t  the  strangest  thing.  It  seemed  like  nobody  in  the  god  damn  TOWN  had  a  clue  who  she  was.  Not  even  her  family.  It  took  days  before  anyone  got  their  memories  back  and  it  all  mostly  returned  to  normal,  but  as  the  weeks  passed  more  phenomenons  started  occurring.  Old  memories  began  to  resurface,  images  and  scenes  from  her  earliest  years  that  she’d  forgotten  as  she  got  older,  and  every  so  often,  Quinn  could  look  into  someone’s  eyes  and  witness  an  EXPERIENCE  they’d  gone  through  in  the  past.  They  didn’t  have  to  know  each  other,  didn’t  even  have  to  know  the  other  person’s  name.  It  was  involuntary  and    p e c u l i a r,    and  for  the  first  time,  she  didn’t  feel  normal.

                    Because  being  a  MUTANT  isn’t  the  standard  ---------------  it’s  abnormal,  and  she  felt  like  a    freak.    Telling  her  parents  didn’t  make  her  feel  any  better.  They  shunned  her  out  of  their  lives,  letting  her  live  in  their  house  but  otherwise  ignoring  her  existence.  Up  until  that  moment,  they’d  been  nothing  but  warm  and  LOVING,  but  now  they  were  the  complete  opposite.  How  can  she  accept  when  all  she’ll  ever  be  is  an  outsider  ?

M A I N S & E X C L U S I V E S

MAINS  :

UNDEROOSED      ♡     Peter  Parker.

EXCLUSIVES  :

AGENTLEHEART      ♡      May  Parker.

A D D I T I O N A L    N O T E S

This  verse  is  an  amalgamation  of  both  marvel  and  X - men  universes,  but  mostly  centres  around  the    X - men  cinematic  universe    as  that  is  what  I  am  the  most  familiar  with.  As  such,  Quinn’s  background  has  been  written  to  work  with  the  X - men  movies  /  comics  in  mind,  but  it  can  be  adapted  to  fit  other  universes.  I  will  write  with  all  superhero  characters,  however,  just  bear  in  mind  that  I  haven’t  that  much  knowledge  of  DC,  and  I’ve  only  seen  a  handful  of  Marvel  movies.

Understandably,  any  power  of  manipulation  is  capable  of  crossing  into  godmodding  territory,  which  is  why  all  situations  where  quinn  uses  her  powers  on  someone  else’s  muse  will  be  talked  through  BEFOREHAND.  there  will  be  no  such  godmodding  or  power - play  featured  on  this  page,  regardless  of  my  muse’s  abilities  in  this  verse.

Please  do  not  immediately  assume  that  your  muse  knows  that  Quinn  is  a  Mutant unless  she  has  told  them  in  the  past  or  we  have  discussed  it  out  of  character.  She  is  under  a  secret  identity  and  very  rarely  shares  that  information  with  other  people  unless  she  feels  like  she  can  trust  them  completely.  The  majority  of  her  closest  friends  don’t  know  that  she  is  a  superhero  or  even  a  Mutant,  so  your  muse  shouldn’t  either.

[azurblau]

❛ You’re too hard on yourself. You always have been. ❜ ((I saw this when I checked your blog so ovo

                                      Game of Thrones sentences. | accepting.

                BLINDLY FOLLOWING THE ENDLESS THREADS of ancient lies, succumbing to his very own DESPAIR and HATRED which he willingly bore ever since his childhood, his mind had been  c l o u d e d  for so long – numb and still covered in ashes. Yet his purpose, his adamant determination to end this war with the Great Wyrm’s blood on his very hands, had always been as clear as the azure sky above. The SHACKLES of his past had suffocated him for two decades, the guilt and regret of a survivor whose lungs had been filled with smoke and ashes whilst the blackened corpses were scattered around him - lost and forcefully taken by the black veil.  As young boy who had once found pleasure in the GREEN and WOODS surroundings his small hamlet he had dreamed no nightmares – henceforth he lived them, bearing the deep, fleshy wounds of blackened CLAWS tearing his flesh apart and felt the forbidden heat of the raging inferno midst thick smolder.

Anything had  w i t h e r e d  in front of his very eyes like the flowers which were now covered by endless, icy snow – life, flesh, even HOPE. Relentlessly, driven by his own wrath and the impossibility of redemption unless he  c o n q u e r e d  death itself, he never possessed the PRIVILEGE to think any differently. Naught had survived the fire and the coldness in later years – naught but this sentimentality he had attempted to ignore for so long, the warm feeling of someone’s presence – and yet, after the LOSS of such feeling which was followed by the feeling of helplessness, suffocating him for too long, the very fear of losing it all over had been to dreadful, too  m e r c i l  e s s. Nonetheless, as naïve as he had been, he had embraced it again; filling the pitch black and burned holes inside his soul with the fatherly love of the man who had betrayed him from the very beginning.

Life and fate had  m o c k e d  him, leading him to this very lonely path of a man, who never had a CHOICE until this very moment. To continue breathing, to  w i t h s t a n d  the call of the harbinger of death to follow the same path his loved ones walked upon, had meant to fight – to bring VENGEANCE for all the orphans, the widows, the brave knights who had already fallen into the eternal slumber now and in long forgotten history. This had been his sole purpose – his FATE – naught more or less. The colors and the rank of the Azure Dragoon had been crimson since ancient times, bearing the stains of blood spilled during their tasks. They were the true WITNESS  of reaper, the black slumber and the eternal hatred of the wyrm’s kin. F o r s a k e n  champions whose fate had always ended in ruin. He of all, after feeling the suffocating, heavy claw on his own THROAT  for so long and the wyrm’s malicious whispers controlling his mind for so long, was  n o  better.

Estinien was not as presumptuous to not realize how the BURDEN on his old friend’s soul had become just as heavy as his own – and yet, despite all of this, their burden were not one and the  s a m e. Both of them were VICTIMS to events of the past, shackled by who they were – but in the very end the choice to freely breathe was one the former Azure Dragoon was still failing to fully grasp. His greyblue gaze was hidden beneath thick lashes for a moment, almost as if he did not dare to raise his voice in front of his friend – the one who had been the most truthful he ever had and also  w o u l d  have. One who had not hesitated to raise his own weapon against the threatening CREATURE he had  b e c o m e; one who would have killed his dearest friend on spot if their fate had been any  k i n d e r  to them. And in those seemingly endless nights when the NIGHTMARES haunted his mind again and the screams of the many innocents he had buried beneath rubble and burned to ashes, he still wished he would have.

The blood on his very own hands was visible to him even if such sin, the final sin of the dragonsong war, would not find its MEMENTO in the history books. Sins had always been covered with LIES. N a y, he saw no accusation in the azure eyes of Aymeric – only grief and regret. KINDNESS which he did not  d e s e r v e, not from him out of all people in Ishgard. His lips curled into a very rare smile – faint and almost  i n v i s i b l e. The memories and images of what had once been, of the burden he still shouldered even in peaceful times, were ultimately which reminded him to still be  a l i v e. To still have a purpose to fight – to live and also to die. There was no longer DISCORD in his heart, scattered fragments of wrath and hatred , but resonance.

                  ‘M a y h a p. Yet I shall remember ‘twas  n o t  the GREAT WYRM’s                    blind hatred that brought RUIN upon our kin. I do not seek                   your forgiveness or sympathy, my old friend. Lest you know                   there is  n a u g h t  you owe me.’

Forgiveness. REDEMPTION - even after receiving as much already, becoming truly  r e b o r n  from the ashes of the dead, rising to the azure skies once more, Estinien would never forget. His guilt, his sins – his wrong doings. His mind was finally free after living through an EON worth of an mortal’s life, seeing the wyrm’s memories like his very own – the kindness, the bonds, even the love – and such knowledge could not be  e r a s e d. It was in the  AZURE, in the bloody LANCE he still wielded and in his very own HEART.

[otakusheep15]

SFW Alphabet - Barbatos

I know I haven’t posted in a while, but since today’s Barb’s b-day, I decided I would

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

The thing is, he actually really loves giving affection. He’s usually just busy, so he never has the time. But when he does have time, expect him to be all over you (respectfully of course). His favorite form of affection is when one of you is cooking and the other will come up and give a hug from behind. He melts no matter which position he’s in. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Most of y’alls hangouts include baking or having tea. He also likes when you follow him around while he works so that he has company. In his free time, he likes to take you to different stores and restaurants in both the Human World and the Devildom so that you two can sample what they have. He’s also lowkey chaotic, so he might drag you into pulling pranks every now and then. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Again, he’s actually really affectionate, so cuddles aren’t off the table. For him, cuddling after a long day is a great way to unwind. It’s also one of the few times he lets his guard down a bit and actually begins to relax. Basically what I’m saying is, please give this man cuddles. He deserves it. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He’s honestly one of the best choices if you want to settle down. He can cook, clean, and any other chores you so desire. And he also loves the idea of settling down. He’s been working for so long and, while he loves his job, it can be pretty taxing on him sometimes. The idea of just leaving it all behind to settle down with the one he loves sounds like a dream to him. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Probably the bluntest out of anyone. Like, he does not care about how the other will react. He’s more used to people breaking up with him since he cares about his job more than them in most cases, so if he’s the one initiating the break up, then it’s for a reason. And that reason is probably not a good one. He will probably make the person cry. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Marriage isn’t all that interesting to him. he doesn’t find it all that necessary like others do. To him, just being together is enough, so he doesn’t need anyone to certify it for him. However, if you wanted to get married, he would never refuse.  

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s surprisingly gentle. He understands how sensitive emotions can be, so he’s super careful with the one’s he cares about. The last thing he wants is to hurt someone he loves, so he’s super gentle. He’s also aware of how physically strong he is, so he tries his best to control himself so that he doesn’t accidentally lash out and hurt you. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He doesn’t have a lot of time, so hugs are usually rare. But he loves them anyway. they’re a great way for him to recharge throughout the day. Just pop in every now and then and give him a quick hug and he’ll just die but you won’t know that.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes him a long time to say it. Not necessarily because he’s scared or not ready, but just because he doesn’t see the point in rushing it. He knows you love him and that he loves you too, so he knows the words themselves aren’t needed. When he does say it, it’ll be absolutely perfect. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He may seem like he doesn’t get jealous, but he does. In fact, he gets insanely jealous, especially of the brothers. You spend so much time with them, and he never has any time to spend with you since he’s always working. He hates that you two never seem to have time to be together, and that ends up making him jealous. Just give him some attention and he should calm down some. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are so amazing. He always knows just what to do and when/where to do it. You will always be satisfied with him. His favorite place to kiss you is the nape of your neck since he likes the reaction it gets out of you. He also likes when you kiss his cheek since he finds it cute. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Oh, he hates kids. Absolutely despises them. The only exception is Luke since he is tolerable for the most part. But other than that, kids are one of his least favorite things. They’re messy, loud, and distract him from his work like Dia and the brothers lol.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He usually has to wake up pretty early in the mornings, so they can go one of two ways. If you’re an early riser like him, you two will get ready and go to the kitchen to have breakfast together before he has to start work. If you tend to sleep in, he’ll get out of bed without waking you and send in another servant to bring you breakfast in bed with a schedule of where he has to be today so that you can come find him. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Night time is pretty much the only time he ever gets to just relax and not have to worry about work. Expect to be pulled away to his room and not leave until morning. This is maybe the only time he can spend with you without the fear of being pulled away from you, and he’s going to enjoy it damnit. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I doubt he’d ever reveal everything about himself. After all, he is quite mysterious. Obviously, he’d trust you enough to open up about some aspects of himself, but mostly just surface level things. If you really want to know something about him, your best bet is going to Diavolo, and even then it’s most likely a lost cause. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

This man is the definition of patient. It takes a lot to rile him up enough to actually snap. He’s been working a Dia’s butler forever now, so he knows how to keep his emotions under control. He may feel irritated or annoyed fairly often, but he will not let it show unless he is truly angered. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Of course he remembers absolutely everything about you. You so much as mention something you enjoy, he already has it to give to you. He has a great memory, and that’s only enhanced by how in love with you he is. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He isn’t one to have any one specific favorite, but he does love any time you two bake together. It’s such a calming thing, and you two can simply just have fun alone without having to deal with Dia or the brothers. It always brings such a smile to his face when he remembers all of the baking sessions you two have had. Even if you don’t know how to bake, that’s fine with him, cause he’s with you. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s very protective, but in a subtle way. He’s never one to be bold or over the top, but he still feels the need to protect you if he ever feels you’re in danger. Honestly, he’s scary enough on his own, so most other demons tend to leave you alone if you’re with him. And because you’re always around him, his scent started to rub off on you, alerting other demons to stay away even when he isn’t there. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He’s used to planning huge events, so he can go as all out as you want. You want a party with every demon in the Devildom? It’s done. You just want a lowkey date alone with him? He can do that to. It all depends on what you want him to do. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has a hard time separating himself from his work. After all, he’s been working for Dia for so long, so it makes sense that it would be hard for him to leave it alone, even for a few hours. Sometimes, you may have to pull him away from his work and force him to rest. If that doesn’t work, you might have to talk to Dia about getting him some time off. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He is concerned with his looks, but only because of who he works for. He knows that he has to keep up appearances lest he embarrass Dia at all. Other than that, he could honestly care less about his looks. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Quite honestly, he was already incomplete before he even met you, and he’s still somewhat incomplete now. He’s never once felt whole, and that didn’t change very much when you arrived. Yes, he loves you, but you didn’t change much of how complete he feels inside. So, yeah, he’d feel incomplete without you, but he feels incomplete regardless. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

This isn’t so much a headcanon as just me being an angsty mess, but I just love the idea of him being lowkey jealous of Lucifer. I mean, ever since Luci fell and started working for Dia, he’s been getting so much credit for basically everything. I like the idea that maybe he gets a bit jealous of Luci and the attention and praise that he gets despite doing the same amount of work. (and yeah, I know this totally isn’t the case at all, and I’m sure he gets plenty of attention, but I love the idea of jealous, and kinda sad Barb). 

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like someone who's lazy and doesn’t take work seriously. he also doesn’t like anyone who consistently distracts him from his work without legitimate reason. Also anyone who insults Dia or presents any possible threat to him. Other than that, he’s surprisingly chill with almost anyone. 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

More like lack of sleep habit honestly. I genuinely don’t believe that he sleeps. And if he does, it’s for a couple hours at the most. Really, he just works too much to sleep that much.  

[bloodthirstymoonstone]

𝔸𝕝𝕖𝕒 𝕀𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕒 𝔼𝕤𝕥

Valter’s Long Lost Sibling

(Strong warning for sibling abuse, ableism, and graphic descriptions of violence. ~5.5k words)

Trembling hands carefully adjusted the large portrait hanging in the grand hall. Perhaps one of the maids had unintentionally shifted it askew while dusting or carrying on with her daily chores. It was hard to be upset when he knew how dutifully the staff worked to keep things in order.

The almost life-sized oil painting was of a wealthy couple embracing joyously. They’d probably had it made in celebration of their marriage. They looked so young and happy and healthy there… That was the way he’d like like to remember them. Not as the dreadfully sickly, frail shells that haunted his dreams.

The large estate had been dreadfully silent for years now -- but even still, this was... different. Or maybe it wasn’t? Perception was a powerful lens after all. The quiet, foreboding halls, the hushed whispers filtering through closed doors… Perhaps it was all the same as it had been before. It was just… knowing that they were finally gone -- that nothing his many months of tireless service had been enough to prevent it...

Shamefully, he slumped against the wall, and broke down into muted sobs, his hand pressed against his mouth so he wouldn’t alert anyone else. A hand balled into a fist and quietly thumped against the marbled exterior. Saints above, he missed them. He missed them more than anything. They deserved more than a cruel, lengthy, painful death as their minds and bodies wasted away in front of him. His parents had deserved to live.

“W… Why couldn’t it h-had been me…?” he whimpered, pushing his glasses out of the way so he could rub fitfully at his eyes. Admittedly, his own life was useless, but not theirs. The world had been robbed of two very fine people, and he didn’t see how things could ever be the same without them.

“Master Walter…?” a voice called gently from the bottom of the stairway.

The young lord gasped quietly, and hurried to wipe away at his tears, hoping no one would notice his red, puffy face. He went to stairs to address the elderly butler. “Y… Yes, Richardson? Wh… What is i-it?” he stammered softly.

Richardson, a long time servant of the family, bowed deeply at the waist. “Master Valter has returned from his campaign oversees. He’s at the gate now.”

Walter’s jaw dropped. Some part of him honestly had believed that Valter wouldn’t make it to the wake, due to being such an all-important general. But now that he HAD shown up…

“O… Oh blessed s-saints! L...Let him in right a-away!” Walter cried, rushing to the head of the gallery once more.

“As you wish, sir.”

News that the famed general had returned spread through the staff like wildfire, and within minutes, everyone was standing along the walls of the grand hall to greet him. Walter nervously tugged at the lapels of his shirt and tried to smooth down his short tufts of blue hair. He wasn’t sure if he was fit to greet a general (even if that general WAS his twin brother).

Valter ascended the stairs with all the poise of a commander, and Walter had to subdue an audible gasp at the sight of him. Everything about him seemed so much… grander than he remembered, and Walter found himself feeling much smaller, even though he knew they were the same height.

Valter had filled out considerably due to his training, and was garbed in plates of armor Walter could only guess had seen a lot of action on the battlefield due to the multitude of dents and scratches on them. Despite that, they still looked to be in amazing condition, having been polished until they shined. He could see evidence of scars all over the general’s face and along his arms, as well.

Most shocking was the impressive length of his hair -- he’d been growing it out for years, but Walter had assumed for some reason that they’d make him cut it after ascending the ranks. It flowed all the way down his back in brilliant waves of blue -- the same color as their late father, and Walter could feel the prick of tears stinging his eyes once more.

Valter took a moment to calmly take in his surroundings -- it had been years since he’d been back, after all. For a moment, his eyes came to rest on Walter, and that was all the excuse the grieving twin needed. He burst into tears again, rushing up to give Valter a tight hug and sobbing openly into his chest. “B… Brother… You… Y-You came…”

Valter’s stance went rigid, and he stared down at the man clinging to his torso as if he were an alien creature. “You…” He glanced around at the servants surrounding them, obviously getting visibly agitated. “What are you doing?” he hissed at last.

“S… Sorry…” Walter sniffed, releasing him to wipe at his face once more. “I… I know it’s… not g-good to be s… seen crying, b-but it’s just been s… so hard, and--”

Valter pushed him away coldly. “That’s not what I meant, you blithering fool,” he snapped, eyes hard and cold as steel. “I meant what are you doing HERE?”

Walter blinked, staring at Valter with pure confusion. A small, creeping feeling of dread curled up his spine. “I… I d-don’t…”

“Don’t play stupid with me, simpleton,” Valter snarled. “I know you’ve seen the will. You’re not mentioned anywhere within its passages. I’m the sole owner. You don’t live here anymore. So leave.”

Walter was silent for several seconds as he tried to make sense of the harsh words his brother was speaking. A few of the maids started whispering as the butlers exchanged nervous glances. Tension hung in the air like a cloud.

Finally, Walter gave a small, nervous smile. His heart was racing now, words getting stuck in his throat. “V… Valter, you c-can’t really m… m… m--”

“Of course I mean it,” Valter interjected with a scoff. He turned his back to him, waving him away. “Did you really think I would make an exception for you simply because we’re related by birth?”

“Y… Yes!” Walter cried incredulously. “F… F… For crying out loud, Valter! Th-They were… w-were…”

“Insane?” Valter cut in, whirling around again with a dramatic sweep of his cape.

“... Y… Yes…” came the soft reply. Walter clutched loosely to his chest. It was painful to see them waste away and know there was no way he could end their suffering. To see them slowly forget words for basic items, and even their names.

There was a derisive snort. “I know all about that, fool. I know about a multitude of things. For instance, I also know of your attempted deception and other nefarious deeds!”

He marched up to Walter and jammed an accusative finger into his brother’s chest, pushing him back slightly with every stabbing gesture. “Tell me! Why were you traipsing about and impersonating me, hmm? Were you hoping to put in a good word for yourself? Sabotage my good name in an attempt to claim my inheritance?!”

Walter stumbled back, obviously starting to panic. “Th… Th… That’s not w-what I--”

Valter immediately began mocking him. “Th-th-that’s not w-w-w-what, Walter? Is it not the truth?”

His heart was racing in his ears. “Wh… B-But, I… It-It’s just that--”

“‘Whuuuh... buuuuh... muuuuuuh... !’ Pathetic! Just spit it out already!” That finger kept jabbing at him.

Walter shoved the intrusive hands away with a frustrated scream. “B-Because they LOVED YOU MORE, a-alright?! They ALWAYS HAVE! Th-That’s why I did it!”

He remembered vividly how the elderly pair had reacted the first and only time he’d corrected them about who he really was. The absolute anguish, and even fear on their faces as they shrieked and demanded for “Valter” to come back. Walter was a brainless screw-up, after all. They couldn’t entrust their lives to him. As much as it hurt to carry on the charade, nothing in the world was more important than their happiness. Not even his own.

He sniffled slightly, arms folded defensively across his chest. He had a feeling the spot Valter was poking him was going to bruise, come the morning. “A...All they ever w-wanted… Was a v… visit f-from you, Valter. W… Why didn’t you ever c… come see them?”

Valter regarded the question coldly. “Does it matter?” he grunted. “They were going to die either way.”

Walter was aghast. How could Valter be so flippant? Did he even care? “... W… W… You…”

Valter gave a disgusted huff. “Why are you still here? I told you to be gone, lest I have you removed! OUT!”

“V… Valter, p-please!” Walter begged, grasping onto his shirt sleeve. “Y… You can’t throw me out! I d… don’t got n-nowhere to go!”

Valter yanked his arm back with a snarl. “Remind me again why I should care! It’s your own damned fault, you ignorant piece of trash! While I was off serving my country, growing stronger, and learning how the world worked -- you know, MAKING something of my life -- you were perfectly content to sit on your aft end and have Mommy and Daddy look after you. Now there’s going to be no one left to clean up after your ineptitude, so I suggest you learn how to function in the real world rather quickly if you are to survive.”

“Valter I s… s... stayed home b-because I had to t… take care of our sick p-parents!”

“Yes, and you’ve done quite an impressive job with that, haven’t you,” Valter shot back wryly.

Walter flinched.

“You make it seem as if you were the only thing standing between them and their untimely demise, as if there WEREN’T legions of servants who could do your job but ultimately much better, you dithering nitwit. And what would be your excuse for the many years that our parents enjoyed good health and yet you still lurked amongst these halls like a brainless invalid?”

Walter couldn’t even respond. The words sank into him like daggers. He gave a tiny sniff.

Valter immediately rolled his eyes at that. “Saints... If that was your attempt to draw sympathy from me, you’ll find none. I have no patience for worthless losers, kin to me or not.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’ve already had to ask you several times to leave my property, trespasser. The next time I won’t be so civil. This is your final warning: leave immediately.”

Walter slowly inhaled and then slowly let it out. He stared at the ground, feeling his heart pound wildly in his chest. Maybe… Valter was right. Maybe all this time, he’d  just been making excuses for himself… had been hiding from the world while his courageous brother went out and conquered it.

“... Alright…” he whispered at last. “F… Fine. You w… win. I-I’ll leave for now and m… maybe s-stay at a tavern for a f… few nights. Then, a-after the f… funeral, y…” He sighed, trying to calm his racing heart. “Y-y-you’ll… n-never have to s...see m-me again.”

Valter smiled triumphantly, but said nothing. He turned his back to his twin, nervously heading to the staircase leading to the exit of the large palace. Conversation over. The murmuring from the crowd of servants watching with bated breath only grew.

As Walter started down the large staircase, there came a slow, deliberate, “Oh… And by the way…” When Walter glanced back, hopeful that Valter had finally seen reason, a wicked, predatory smirk was all that greeted him. “Don’t even bother showing up to the funeral. You’re not invited.”

Walter’s blood ran cold. That one hand slipped off the railing in numb shock. “W-Wh… What…?”

“I’m quite certain you heard me,” Valter replied, clearly taking delight in the way Walter’s shocked expression fell. “Only family and certain friends are allowed to attend. And according to the will that I now have securely on my person, I have no living relatives.”

Walter could feel his blood rising into a raging inferno inside of his cheeks, even as he urged himself to remain calm. Despite the rising pit of anxiety rising in his stomach, he marched back up to face his brother, clearly incensed. “S-S-So you’re telling m-me that I c-can’t come to s… see my own p-parents laid to rest? R...Really?!” he demanded.

“MY parents. And yes,” Valter replied easily.

“A-A-After I w… washed and fed a-a-and t… took care of them f-for month? YEARS, even?!”

“Yes. If you attempt to intrude on our sacred day of grieving, I’ll have you arrested on the spot.”

“VALTER!” the twin snapped angrily. “D… Didn’t you h-hear me before?! I don’t c… CARE about a-anything else -- you w… win! You can k… keep the house, the m-money -- EVERYTHING! I d-d-don’t care! But you h… have NO R-RIGHT to keep me f-from s… seeing them one last t-time!”

“I have every right,” came the smooth, and utterly self satisfied reply. “As the sole heir, I get the final say on who will be in attendance or not. And, mark my word, you will not be present on that day.” There was a triumphant smirk, for good measure.

Walter’s hands were curled up into tight fists at his sides, trembling as he tried to regain his composure. “You can’t d… DO this, Valter! I’m family too, d-damn it!”

Valter gave a chilling laugh. “My family is dead, Walter. YOU mean nothing to me, just like you mean nothing to the rest of the world. A simple, stammering fool, and nothing more.”

Walter felt the sharp, stinging pain in his hand before it even registered that he had punched Valter in the face. The servants all gasped in horror, a few even making a hasty retreat out of the room for fear of the conflict spiraling out of control. They were right to run.

Walter pressed his hands to his mouth in horror as Valter adjusted his jaw with a disturbing amount of calm. “V… V… Valter, I’m s-so--”

“You all witnessed that, did you not?” Valter called to the few uncomfortable-looking staff left remaining. He unclasped the weighted cape from his back and let it drop to the floor in an undignified heap. “This… trespasser assaulted me in my own home.”

Walter tried backing away, having become intimately familiar with that dangerously calm tone of voice and what would doubtlessly ensue. He would have dropped to his knees and begged for mercy right then if he thought it might spare him. “V-V-Valter, I’m… l-let’s talk about about th-this… I d-didn’t mean t--”

Without any further warning, Valter charged directly at his brother, death gleaming clearly in his eyes. Walter gave a strangled cry, and turned to flee, but wasn’t quick enough to escape the general’s wrath. He was caught by the neck and slammed to the ground so fast his glasses flew from his face and with enough brute force to leave him gasping for air.

Valter gave him no time to recover, though, rolling on top of the man, pinning him down, and punching him until blood was gushing out like a sickening fountain. Walter did his best to wrestle his brother off, but each punch was hitting like a charging wyvern, and it was a struggle trying to keep his limbs coordinated as he struggled in vain to stop the assault.

Panic gripped the halls then -- several of the women began screaming, some scrambled to get help from those that had left, and two butlers began approaching the pair in an apparent effort to split the pair up.

The second Valter felt the pair of hands around his shoulders trying to tug him away, the furious general sprang to his feet and whirled around to face them. “DON’T YOU TOUCH ME!” he snapped, as Walter was left gasping and rolling around the floor with agony.

“But Master Valter, don’t you think that this has gone much too--”

“Yes, that’s right. I’M your master now! And as your master, I’m telling you that if you try to interfere again, you’ll NEVER work another day in your life!”

The two butlers tentatively withdrew.

Valter turned back to Walter, who was now curled up in a defensive ball on the floor, cradling his broken face and sobbing. He could barely contain his disgust as he planted a bruising kick in the man’s side. “Get up, scum!”

“P… P… Please, no more, V-Valter, please… I can’t… I’m sorry… I’m s-so sorry--”

“I SAID GET UP!”

Valter dragged him back up to his feet, only to send him stumbling back again with a series of vicious punches. Walter swore each blow seemed to sap his body of the energy it needed to fight back, or even move -- he tried raising his arms to defend his face, but as soon as he did, Valter would aim those debilitating strikes at his torso and lower body. This was so much worse than anything he’d ever suffered in their teen years, and part of him felt legitimately afraid that Valter would end up killing him.

He slumped against the far wall, panting and exhausted, arms hanging limply at his sides as he waited helplessly for the next blows to come, too exhausted to even struggle anymore. Valter quickly rewarded him with knee in the stomach, that made him double over in pain once again. But Valter, grinning like a crazed man, took a fistful of his hair, and wrenched his head back up, so he could address him eye-to-eye.

“I’ve been dreaming of this day…” he sighed, digging his nails into the man’s scalp. His voice was hushed so that Walter would be the only one who could hear him. “The day where I’d finally be rid of you. Pathetic slime…”

Another punch to the face. Walter’s knees almost buckled, but Valter held him, still standing and pinned to the wall by the arm pressed against his chest.

“I just had no idea that you would make it so easy for me, brother…” he chuckled. “I’ve been working dutifully for as long as I can remember to see you erased from the annals of history completely, only for you to do all the heavy lifting for me... To think that your masquerading in my stead would be the very reason our parents wrote you out of their will…”

He leaned close to whisper softly into the terrified man’s ear, one hand closing around the other’s neck. “I hope you say hello to them once you join them in hell, brother.”

Walter gasped and fought against the intrusive hand around his neck, to no avail. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He kicked Valter in the crotch.

It wasn’t as hard as he probably would have wanted -- his strength was failing as his body struggled to stay conscious, or even alive -- but it got the job done. Valter recoiled with a shocked yelp, cupping himself with a hiss. Walter felt like dropping to the ground and drinking in those precious gulps of sweet oxygen, but he understood that time was short. He bolted for the staircase in as straight a path as he could manage whilst blinking past the blood stinging his eyes from a cut above his eyebrow (which he couldn’t even remember getting).

He didn’t get far. Valter pushed past his initial pain rather quickly thanks to the adrenaline and rage surging throughout his body. He dashed across the large room in under half the time, and tackled Walter to the ground, before he could even get to the winding staircase. Furious, he smashed his twin’s face into the ground, leaving behind a bloody imprint, and dazing Walter yet again.

“You craven little BITCH!” the general spat, clearly angry for the first time during the fight. “I can see now that any sort of honorable fight would be wasted on you.” A growl. “If that’s the way you want to do things, then FINE. The gloves come off.”

Grunting, he rose to his feet, dragging his near-unconscious brother so that he was flush against the staircase, with his legs firmly set against the railing. Walter slipped into darkness for a few peaceful moments, but then--

A sharp scream filled his ears, and it took Walter a few seconds to realize it was his own. Valter was glaring down at him dispassionately with a heavy wooden chair, usually the type one would find at a desk, except now it was smashed to pieces, and Walter’s leg…

Oh, saints… It was bending the wrong way! Just under his knee, where his legs were in contact with the railing, his tibia and fibula had apparently folded forward with the impact, and now the rest of his limb dangled uselessly like a sock filled with lumpy, misshapen rocks. Several shrieks met his own as the servants realized what they were seeing. Several of the women were in tears. One had fainted. Richardson was currently emptying his stomach on the rich, tiled floor.

Valter ignored them, kicking Walter so that he rolled down the stairs and snickering as the lame foot flailed about as he tumbled roughly down the entire way. Maybe, if he was lucky, the imbecile would crack his skull or snap his neck during his fall.

No such luck. Walter was alive by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, sobbing loudly as he was consumed with pain so mind numbingly brutal, he could swear he was screaming himself hoarse after just a few minutes.

Valter grabbed him by the ankle of his good leg, and began dragging the man towards the heavy oak doors leading outside. He was greeted by a fierce looking monster with piercing red eyes and fangs that looked like they could puncture through his entire torso. Fearing Valter planned on feeding him to the creature, Walter screamed. As if taking it as a challenge, the menacing wyvern roared back with twice the ferocity.

As Walter sobbed more and curled tightly in on himself, Valter smirked, amused, and gave his wyvern a fond pat, murmuring softly, “Good girl.” She huffed and stood up a little straighter, head spines pointed forward to indicate rapt attention.

He turned his attention back to his brother, writhing on the ground in agony. “Fear not, Walter. I won’t kill you… This time,” he added with a chuckle. “But take a good look at your surroundings. It shall be the last time you lay eyes on this place.” 

He narrowed his eyes, contempt clearly legible in his expression. “But make no mistake, worm. This is the last shred of kindness I’ll grant you. If I ever catch sight of you again, I will kill you. I promise you that, and you should know more than most that I never break my promises.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Understood?”

Walter nodded tearfully.

“Good.” Valter made a quick, short whistle at his mount, and ascended her when she crouched down in a quick, easy motion. “Now get up, you blubbering fool. You have ten minutes to vacate the premises, else Chetak and I will make good on my threat.”

“I… I… W-What?!” Walter gasped. “B-but, Valter… The nearest town is--!”

“Then I suggest you walk -- I’m sorry, hop -- quickly,” Valter laughed, as he casually pulled out a pocket watch. “Or, by all means, take your time. It would be SUCH a blessing to finally end your wretched life.”

He wasn’t joking. Valter NEVER joked around with Walter -- if he was promising death if Walter didn’t comply, he doubtlessly would follow through. Panic seized Walter, and within seconds, he was trying to struggle to his feet, sobbing every time he accidentally jostled his horribly mangled leg. He pulled himself up using the oak door, and began making the slow, agonizing trek across the palace grounds. If he didn’t get to the gate before time ran out, Valter would surely have that beast feast upon his innards. Walter was sure of it.

He stumbled and fell a great number of times, with constant pain shooting up his malformed leg as well as his bloodied face, but he had to keep going. Every time he looked back, Valter was still perched atop his wyvern, glaring back at him with his watch still held up just under his field of vision. None of the staff dared to intervene, but Walter thought he could make out a few faces peeking out from between the curtains. It was hard to tell without his glasses… What he wouldn’t give to be back in his warm, safe bed again…

Finally, he made it to the gate, but just as he was trying to figure out how to open it on his own with his limited strength, a sharp, otherworldly shriek echoed across the courtyard. The wyvern… It was CHARGING. Head lowered aggressively, it powered itself across the ground with its long, powerful legs in a fraction of the time it took Walter to travel. Its wings were splayed out to either side, mouth opened up wide to release a terrible, soul-rending roar. Valter was hunkered down on top of her like a racing jockey, the glinting edge of a silver lance held out to his side.

Oh, gods!

Had it been ten minutes already?! Walter didn’t have any time to consider his options. The beast would be upon him within seconds! Struggling, he pulled back against one of the doors with the weight of his entire body. Then, as soon as the gap was slim enough for him to fit through, he quickly shuffled between the bars and continued scrambling away as fast as he could.

The massive wyvern slid to a complete halt at Valter’s stern command, and he glared after the retreating back of who he’d once called a brother. “Remember what I said, scum!” he called behind him. “IF I SEE YOU AGAIN, YOU’LL BE DEAD BY MY HANDS!”

Walter didn’t look back.

Years later…

The bell hanging above the door to the simple monastery, alerting all those within that a visitor was present. Walter stirred out of his sleep regretfully, giving a quiet yawn and a stretch as he pulled himself away from the desk he’d been working at before he drifted off. 

He straightened the spectacles over his face drowsily, and reached for the cane propped up against the side of the tiny work desk. “I.. I’ll g-get it…” he murmured softly, attempting to rise to his feet. What could a visitor be doing coming so late? The bread line had closed hours ago...

One of the clerics hurried over to scold him as soon as she heard his grunts of exertion. Sister Martha -- a caring, but stern elderly woman that had a spring to her step that defied the grey aging her hair. “Brother Walter! I’ve told you a thousand times about being pushing yourself with that leg of yours! You should know better!”

Walter sheepishly withdrew his hand. “I… I know, b-but I was the c… closest one to the door, s-so I just thought I-I’d--”

“Hush, child, I’d rather walk a mile to save you just one step. Your leg still hasn’t stopped swelling from the dinner rush -- I’d advise you not push your luck.”

He sighed. “Y… Yes ma’am…” came the dour reply. He drummed his fingers impatiently as she rushed off to greet the visitor, looking back down at the text he’d hastily scrawled over the pages in front of him. It was just something else he was useless at. He should be used to the feeling by now. As if to add insult to injury, his leg suddenly began throbbing with a dull ache. He whined, rubbing at it as he hurried to take a quick swig of the vulnerary hanging loosely from his belt.

After a few moments of almost hushed whispers, she returned to the back of the monastery, looking puzzled. “Erm… Brother Walter? It’s… a man. He says he came for you…?”

Walter’s heart raced. “Wh… What does he l-look like? D… Did he look like m-me?”

“No, not at all. He’s… much older. Mostly bald? Has a nose that curves down like a claw? Fancy clothes…”

Walter blinked. Could it be…? Without waiting for any further explanation, Walter rose to his feet, careful to balance the weight of his body between the desk and his walking cane. “I… I’ll go see him. W-Wait h… here.”

He had his doubts at first, but as soon as he saw the man, there was no mistaking it. “R… Richardson!” he cried out in shock as soon as he saw the man.

He looked much older, of course. The last time Walter had seen him, he still had some hair, and perhaps not quite so many wrinkles. But it was definitely his old friend. As happy as he was to see him, he couldn’t imagine he’d track him down and come all this way just for a friendly chat.

The old butler gave a soft, sad smile. “Ah… Master Walter…” He gave a little bow, for old time’s sake. “It is such a relief to see you again after… all these years.” His eyes flashed to the cane, and for a moment, his eyes flashed with pain and sympathy, but also pride. Part of him had doubted the poor man would ever be able to walk again after such an injury. He was happy to be proven wrong.

“O… Oh… I-It’ so good to finally--”

A sigh. Richardson held his hand up to stop the younger man from finishing. “I am afraid I have little time for pleasantries, Milord.”

Walter felt his blood run cold. “I… I’m not sure I--”

“It’s your brother,” he quickly explained. “Something happened that stripped him of his title, and now he is living in your parents estate again. He’s gone absolutely mad.”

The younger man let out a pained cry, and grasped his chest. No… Not Valter, too! Biting his lip to stave off the tears, he quietly asked, “H… How long d-do the healers think h-he… has left to l...live?” he asked tearfully.

Richardson shook his head. “You misunderstand, sir. He isn’t plagued with the same illness that claimed your parents’ lives. His is… different. Much worse, certainly, but he himself is in no danger of dying from it.”

A deep breath as he forced himself to calm. “He is suddenly… obsessed with the idea of death and destruction. He hungers for it in a way I’ve never seen before. And, most troubling of all, he now has told us that he plans on finding YOU.”

The butler pressed his lips together sternly. “I’ve come to warn you, Milord. You’ve already suffered through so much… I shudder to think what could become of you if that… fiend were to lay his hands on you again.”

Walter was shaking now, terror setting in like a cold, invasive fog. He couldn’t even bear to think of Valter as inflicting even more pain on him than he already had. His leg twinged in discomfort just considering it.

“B… But… But I-I…” Tears were overflowing now. “R-Richardson, I… I don’t have… n… nothing else! No cash, n-nowhere to go -- nothing o… other than w-what these n… nice people have given m.. me!” He sobbed. “What do I d-do? W-Where do I go now?”

“There’s nothing else for it,” Richardson replied sternly. “You must leave the country. Grado is no longer safe for you. He has connections all throughout this land -- if I could find you, he surely will be able to.”

“But I don’t--”

“I’m sorry. It’s the only way.” Richardson shook his head. “I have… connections of my own. I can safely get you across the border into Renais, but from then on, you’ll be on your own. I’m truly sorry I can’t do more, but I must be concerned for my own safety as well, you see…”

“I… I understand.”

“Pack your things. Time is short, and we must leave immediately.”

The rest of the night went by in a blurred haze of tearful hugs, and heartfelt goodbyes, as Walter had to tell his new family he was leaving, and almost certainly forever. Sister Martha made sure he had some fresh scones to take with him on the long journey, and one of the children gave him a book about plant life native to Renais and her little plushie of a sunflower. Then, with a hastily packed suitcase, he was on his way to the next big chapter of his life.

Hopefully he survived this one, too.

[yukiwrites]

Not so Clumsy Dream

Thank you so much for commissioning me again, @arod7293! I hope you like it! ;D

Summary: Azura has been plagued by terrifying nightmares for days, making not only her wife Felicia worry, but stressing their little babies Linnea and Shigure through their bond, as well. Felicia takes it upon herself to enter her wife’s dream and free her from such grief. Takes place after Clumsy Family Time.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

A chilling scream shattered the silence of the night, startling Felicia awake.

"No! Noo!! P-please, don't leave me-" Azura cried out in her sleep, tears drenching her face as she struggled to disentangle herself from the blankets.

"Azura!" Felicia stuttered, unsure of where to touch her wife, under the cries of their children. "Azura, Azura! It's okay, it's just a dream!" The maid's chin trembled, her heart wrenching in pain in sympathy of her wife's desperation.

The princess breathed heavily, the shackles of the dream too heavy to break away from so easily. She dug her nails on the mattress, her body aching to free itself from the agonizing pain she was seeing with her mind's eye.

Felicia sobbed, grabbing her wife by the shoulders. "Azura! Dear! It's okay!" She shook the princess with everything she had, freezing parts of her nightgown and bed sheets around her.

"AHH!" Azura snapped her eyes open, her face red from crying so much. "I'm- o-oh, Felicia...!" The princess trembled, her mind still unable of forming coherent thoughts, the shadow of the nightmare looming in, almost covering her whole in its grasps yet again. She weakly wrapped her arms around her wife, the mixture of her body's warmth and her power's ice doing a good job in fixing Azura into the realm of the waking.

Whereas her wife's tears stopped with the sudden awakening, Felicia's only worsened. "A-Azuraaa," the maid sniffled, digging her face into her wife's shoulder. "I thought you wouldn't wake up this time! S-so scared...!"

"F-Felicia... M-my darling," Azura tried to reassure her wife, but she still needed support herself as her body still refused to stay still. "T-thank you for waking me, my l-love..." She managed to say under all the shaking, closing her eyes so as to catch her breath.

Only once Azura managed to hear something other than her own thundering heartbeat was when the twins' cries became more apparent.

"Oh, no! Linnea, Shigure!" Azura jolted away from Felicia's arms, meaning to jump out of the bed towards the babies. Her legs almost gave out, however, and only Felicia's hand on her arm made Azura able to stand up properly.

"Y-you're still not well enough for this-" Felicia tried, but Azura quickly looked away from her, her eyes shining with tears.

"Please, allow me this. I need... to feel their warmth on me." She took a deep breath and straightened her back, taking a tentative step forward to check her footing. Once she confirmed she was able to walk, the princess quickly trotted to her children's crib, the simple sight of them bringing her despairing heart solace. She bent down to pick Linnea up at the same time Felicia stumbled out of the bed to hold Shigure. "There, there... Good girl, little Linnea. Forgive Mother for startling you, hm?" Azura sang in a whisper, holding the baby softly.

Still worried about her wife, Felicia held Shigure, her wide eyes never leaving Azura. The baby boy calmed down first, as per usual, and soon Linnea followed. The maid opened and closed her mouth many times, wanting to ask about such terrifying dream that's been plaguing her princess for many a night.

Yes, that wasn't the first time that happened -- nor the second, neither the fifth.

And every single time, Azura refused to disclose any information regarding the dream, simply turning her back before pretending to sleep until dawn broke.

It tore Felicia apart, to see her wife so drained and dispirited like that. "Azura..." She blurted out as they tucked the twins back into the crib, their arms brushing in doing so.

The princess hardened her chin, never taking her eyes away from her baby girl. "Please, Felicia. Not now."

"B-but! I can't stand watching you suffer like this! Please, at least talk to me-- they say that talking about a nightmare helps make it better, right? R-right?" She poked her shoulder on her wife's, trying to steal a smile from her.

It didn't work, however.

Azura pressed her lips into a thin line, and only after a long moment did she exhale the air she had been holding. "It was- my Mother." She said simply, straightening herself after patting Linnea's belly. "She was protecting me from a monster and-" her voice died slowly, cutting itself sharply lest she confirmed how Arete had disappeared.

"Azura..." Felicia reached out to her wife, finding her cheek cold. "T-thank you for telling me. I'm sorry I put you through this..."

"Oh, don't apologize, silly," the princess forced a smile, bobbing her head to the bed. "It's just a dream; it will fade eventually." She sighed as both of them climbed back to the bed. "Eventually, it will..."

Felicia frowned, hugging her wife tightly by her chest. "I'll protect you, my love. I promise."

That broke a bit of the princess' melancholy. "Pfft, my maid in shining armor!"

"Muuh," Felicia pouted. "Just you wait; I'll get rid of this stupid nightmare."

As usual, Azura pretended to sleep in her wife's arms until it was time for Felicia to get ready for work. They parted in silence so as not to wake the twins up, and Azura, being exhausted as she was, didn't notice the determined gleam in Felicia's eyes as she left their room.

The maid quickly made her way to the royal chambers, forgetting to bring the food cart with her. She knocked so loudly on the door it startled both Queens awake.

"Lady Rhajat? Are you awake?" Felicia poked her head inside, finding Corrin and her wife looking wide-eyed at the door. "U-um, did something happen?"

Corrin deflated. "You almost brought the door down, Felicia! We thought we were being attacked or something."

"If you hadn't poked your head so carelessly, I would've blasted you with my magic." Rhajat's voice sounded rough from sleep, her bangs covering most of her eyes as one of her hands shone with green -- wind -- magic.

"Oh! U-um, forgive me! I didn't mean to use so much strength!" The maid bowed, her spine cold from fear -- she knew how powerful the Queen Consort was, after all. "Wait, that's the reason I'm here!"

"Huh? Not to bring us our food?" Corrin snorted, stretching her neck to look for the food cart behind Felicia. Finding none, she giggled louder. "Did you forget to bring it again?"

Rhajat snorted on her wife's shoulder as Felicia widened her eyes, looking behind her. "Awawa! Oh, no! I forgot! P-please wait, I'll go fetch it right now-"

"Forget it," Rhajat waved her hand dismissively. "Jakob will probably bring it an yell at you anyway. What was so important that made you forget your duties?"

"Muh..." Felicia cowered with the mention of her coworker, already resigning herself to be yelled at. "I- um," she stuttered, trying to find the words. "Is there any way for someone to enter someone else's dream?"

Rhajat looked at her nails, unamused. "Are the twins or Azura having nightmares?" She asked in an almost bored tone, gracefully slipping out of the bed, towards her desk.

The maid gasped. "How- how did you know?!"

Corrin laughed by the bed as Rhajat smiled in front of her desk. "I wonder how..."

Confused, but not about to reject a helping hand, Felicia trotted inside. "Um, yes, Azura's having nightmares and she's suffering so much... I want to get in there and save her from whatever's scaring her!" She puffed her chest.

"How dashing," Rhajat teased, snapping her fingers so as to turn on the magical fire under her mini cauldron, already dropping this and that ingredient inside of it.

"Azura always tries to keep stuff to herself," Corrin crossed her legs, unwilling to get up just yet, "so I guess that's basically the only way to help, huh?"

Felicia looked down, distraught. "... Yes. She wouldn't tell me anything, but I know she's suffering, and I can't- I can't just watch!" She lifted her head, conviction splattered across her face.

"Well, that's cute and all, but..." Rhajat looked at the maid over her shoulder. "You better know that if you die in the dream, you'll die in the real world, as well. Don't go on being careless, now."

Felicia pouted slightly, her brow furrowed. Before being a maid, she was a trained soldier who fought countless battles. A soldier who had been present the day the Forgotten Dragon tried to swallow the world.

Death had always been something constant in her life.

Dying while trying to protect the one she loved? It was even romantic!

She didn't falter. "I won't. I do want to wake up and check if Azura's feeling better, after all!" She smiled foolishly with just the memory of her wife's laughter, wanting more than anything to bring it back.

The Queen Consort smiled under her bangs, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. A simple glance at her wife made Corrin see through the real reason for the expression, her own softening in response. "Do you want us to check on you two later? I don't know how this potion works, but better be safe than sorry, right?"

The maid opened her mouth to reply, but Rhajat cut her off, sluggishly moving her body towards the entrance. "It's simple, really." She carried a small vial containing a transparent red liquid. "You drink this, kiss your wife and you two will fall asleep into the same dream."

Felicia accepted the vial, clutching it on her chest so as not to drop it. "T-thank you so much, Lady Rhajat!" She bowed many times, eager to already try it out. She turned on her heel to leave, but a hand gripping on her shoulder made her stop.

"Remember, though: You need her to consent to you ripping through her mind. She has to tell you she allows you into her dream, otherwise you'll only watch it unfold, without being able to help."

The maid hardened her jaw. "A-alright! Thank you again, Lady Rhajat! I'll try it out right now-"

"Where do you think you're going, Felicia?! Or rather, how dare you interrupt our Lady's slumber without preparing her meal first?!" Jakob stormed into the room, grabbing the maid's free shoulder.

"O-oh, yeah, it's morning!" Felicia laughed awkwardly, quickly stuffing the vial inside her most secure pocket. "Gotta work, gotta work!"

"Yes, indeed, you have work to do!" Jakob hissed, stealing a few laughs from Corrin, who finally mustered the courage to get up.

"Give her a break, Jakob-"

"Unacceptable, milady! She has to be disciplined!" Jakob frowned deeply. "Now, on me!" He raised his chin in an commanding tone, making Felicia almost salute in response.

"Yes, sir!"

The day went by quickly, much to Felicia's delight. She almost ran back to her and Azura's quarters, banging the door open. "I'm back!" She huffed.

Azura woke up with a start, not even realizing she had fallen asleep while folding the twins' clothes. "Oh, welcome back, Felicia. My, it's already this late? I must feed the babies..." She did her best to hold back a yawn, but failed.

Fidgeting, Felicia clutched her chest -- she was heartbroken to see her wife so lifeless, but at the same time, she felt giddy since she had the solution in her possession! They just had to try it!

... But the twins came first, of course. Felicia quickly walked to her children, holding Shigure as Azura breastfed Linnea first.

Felicia had to tap on her wife's shoulder twice to wake her up over the course of the feeding, but that, too, went through without any troubles. The maid almost suggested they slept right there and then, but she wanted to make sure her wife was well taken care of, so they first took a bath together -- the cold water doing wonders to bring Azura back to the world of the waking -- and nibbled at some food.

"Felicia, you've been rather eager to go back to sleep since you arrived, have you not?" Azura noted as she brushed her hair; Felicia already waiting for her in bed.

"O-oh, of course you'd notice, heehee," the maid giggled awkwardly. "I asked Lady Rhajat for something to help you with your nightmares, and she gave me a potion! Ta-da!" She dramatically flashed the vial, almost dropping it on the mattress. "Awawa, p-please don't break..."

"That's reassuring," Azura forced a smile, dragging her heavy body towards the bed. She climbed it with difficulty, finally sitting in front of her wife. "Do I only have to drink it?"

"Oh, no! I'm the one drinking it!"

Azura tilted her head to the side in confusion. "How come?"

"I'm gonna enter your dream and help you in there! Sounds magical, right?" She smiled.

"Is that really so simple?" The princess raised an eyebrow, making the maid flinch.

"W-well, she did say that if I die in the dream, I'll die in the real world, too, and that you've got to agree to have me in your dream for it to work-"

"Of course I will not agree to such a thing!" Azura hissed, taking the vial away from Felicia's hands. "Dying in a dream is almost as natural as breathing! I won't let you risk your life for something so silly as that-"

"It's not silly!" Felicia cut her wife off, taking the vial back. "Don't put your suffering down like that! Lately, you're not even you anymore, and I just can't keep on watching it!" Felicia sniffled, the tears she had been holding back for weeks finally springing up in her eyes. "I don't want to watch you suffer...! I'm used to fighting, remember? I'm not gonna die that easily..." She sobbed, clutching the vial on her chest.

Azura's chin trembled with emotion. "Living... living with a nightmare for the rest of my life is still better than going through it without you, Felicia. I can't bear to lose you, too." Her voice sounded strangled as she held back her own tears.

The maid gulped down the growing lump inside her throat. "Have faith in me, okay? I'll come back to you, no matter what." She sneaked one hand over her wife's, weakly grasping it at first.

Azura gripped it harder, the conviction in Felicia's eyes stealing her breath away. She took a moment, then another and yet another to regain her speech, finally conceding defeat. "I will stop at NOTHING to bring you back if something happens, is that clear?" She pressed her lips into a thin line, her furrowed brow uncertain.

Felicia beamed. "Alright!" She downed the potion at lightning speed, quickly going for a kiss. Surely, instead, she bonked their heads together, dissipating the tension completely.

"O-ouch! Was that necessary-hmmph!" Azura was still laughing when Felicia tried to kiss her again, this time succeeding. The moment their lips touched, a drowsiness too overwhelming to resist hit them both, making them flop onto the bed in each other's arms.

"Wah!" Felicia jumped awake. "D-did it work? I feel awak- Oh, wow! I'm outside!" The maid marveled, getting up from the grassy field she had been lying on. Something tugged at her skirt, making her look down at what she wore: it was something akin to her wife's dancing outfit; white, blue and gold. "Oh, sooo pretty!" She twirled around herself. "I wonder if Oboro and Forrest can make something like this in reality- Oh, yeah! I'm in Azura's dream!"

With the attention span of a fish, Felicia's thoughts ran at full speed, trying to keep her focused on the task at hand.

"I wonder where she is, though... I guess I need to find her to help her, huh?" She mused, her feet already walking despite her mind not knowing where to. The place was a truly marvelous one: it resembled the broken Valla they lived in, but much more... whole.

The floating islands weren't random rocks around the sky -- they were paths, stairways and roads leading to upper levels, going high into the endless blue.

There were people, as well -- citizens, perhaps? They all wore clothes akin to the ones Felicia did, albeit in differing styles, but all sipping from the same base that was the main white and golden details. Everyone was smiling and minding their own business, be it taking walks to enjoy the sun or going for shopping trips with the whole family.

It was a heart-warming scene. "I wonder what's the nightmare's about; everything's so peaceful here." Felicia mused, her bare feet unused to walk over the hard stone of the growing city around her.

"Mommy! Mommy, where are you?!" A little girl huddled herself through the people, her pure white clothes almost grey from dirt. "Hey, have you seen my Mommy?" She asked this or that person, but they acted as though they didn't see her, walking right past her.

The little girl sniffled, her tear-stained face red from crying so much. "Mommy!! Why is everyone ignoring meee?!"

"I- I recognize that girl..." Felicia clutched her heart, immediately running towards the blue-haired, golden-eyed little girl. "Azura?!" She called out.

The girl turned to the sound of her name. "Mom-" She almost blurted out, immediately biting her tongue. "You're not my Mommy... Who are you?"

"You don't recognize me, I'm Fel-whoops!" The maid tripped on her elaborate dress, falling straight on her nose, right by little Azura's feet. "Ouch, ouch, my nose... Even inside a dream, I can feel the pain of tripping..."

"Heehee, you're funny, Pretty Lady!" The little girl giggled despite the fresh tears in her eyes.

Felicia had to use every muscle in her body not to hug that little bundle of cuteness right there and then! How adorable her wife was in her childhood, by the gods! "T-thank you..." She blushed, stumbling on her feet. "You're looking for your Mommy, right? Can I help?"

"Will you?!" Little Azura's eyes sparkled. "No one here listens to me, so thank you, Pretty Lady!" She took Felicia's hand on her small one, pulling her around. "I think I lost her around the city plaza..."

The maid clutched her heart with her free hand. Gods, I love you! She squealed inside her mind, holding back the urge of biting the little girl's cheeks.

"There she is! Mommy!" Azura's shout took Felicia out of her own mind.

"That was fast-" Felicia mused, unaware that the catalyst for the real nightmare was only going to start the moment she and Azura reunited.

Once they did, everything would start happening faster than in Azura's usual dreams. Which was why she found Arete quicker than before.

The little girl ran to her mother, who welcomed her with open arms. "Mommy!"

"Azura, my dear! I was so worried -- please, do not run off like that again, you hear?" Arete lifted Azura in her arms, looking up at the approaching maid. "Did you help her while she was lost? Thank you very much." She bowed.

"O-oh, I didn't do anything, really-" Felicia waved both hands in front of her face, embarrassed to be in the presence of her wife's mother -- the previous Queen, no less!

"Please, no need to be modest," Arete smiled softly, the same smile Felicia saw countless of times in Azura over the course of the years. They truly were mother and daughter, after all.

"Oh, I'm not-" Felicia started, but little Azura pointed at something behind their backs, shrieking in terror.

"MOMMY, LOOK!" She dug her face in Arete's shoulder, terrified at the mass of darkness that started to swallow the city.

Arete quickly shoved Azura in Felicia's arms. "Please, take care of her," she said hurriedly, running towards the dragon-shaped darkness.

"Mommy!!" Azura let out an ear-piercing scream. "NO! Mommy!! Don't leave me!!" She struggled to get out of Felicia's tight hug, the dark mass shooting purple rays of light, seeping the life off of every living being it touched.

Citizens fell all around them. Trees wilted on their feet; even houses started decaying at the same time the floating paths crumbled into the islands Felicia was used to seeing.

The blood rushed into the maid's heart, the darkness rapidly swallowing everything up. "MOMMY!" Azura finally broke free from Felicia, running towards the gapping blackness.

A dry thump made the little girl stop on her tracks, however -- the lifeless body of her mother, being chucked at her like a sack of potatoes.

"No... NO!!" She held her own head in despair, falling on her knees. "Don't leave me, don't leave me!!"

One by one, the citizens all around them took the forms of the royal siblings -- Sakura, Hinoka, Ryoma and Takumi at first, followed by Camilla and Elise. Mikoto, Sumeragi, Corrin.

They all started at her with lifeless eyes, their bodies cold to the touch, leaving Azura in utter and complete darkness.

Alone.

Felicia started feeling the grips of darkness suck her hands and feet in, as though it was trying to turn her into one of the corpses.

"If you die in the dream, you'll die in real life," Rhajat's words rang true in the maid's head. She flinched, struggling to pull herself away from the formless yet gripping darkness.

"Azura! Azura, oh, my love!" She cried out in the dark, seeing the little girl shift farther and farther away from her. "Don't be scared! You're not alone, not anymore! Lady Corrin is alive and well, as are all of the hoshidan royal family! I know you must be suffering right now because of these memories from the past, but please, look towards the future! You'll be so happy, my dear, so, so happy! You'll find someone you'll love, and you'll have two wonderful children with her, too!" Felicia didn't notice the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Everyone also had children, you know? Your family isn't breaking, it's growing! It's gonna be okay, so please... please, look this way!"

A blinding light immediately made Felicia close her eyes and place both hands over her face.

A warm and comforting sensation enveloped Felicia's body, making her inadvertently smile, despite the despair from seconds previous. "Is that true?" A young voice called from below.

"Yup, it is." Felicia didn't need to open her eyes to see little Azura tugging at the hem of her dress.

"I'm not alone anymore? Not hurting in a dark place?"

"Nope. You went through everything. You're a strong girl, you know."

"Am... I?"

"You will be," a voice Felicia oh so very knew said from behind them, making the maid finally open her eyes to see it: Azura, the woman, her wife of many years, stood there. She looked at her younger self with softness. "You will be strong, Azura. Strong enough to dispell the darkness."

The little girl sniffles, then sobs. "T-thank goodness!" She cries, placing both hands over her eyes. The princess took a few steps towards her younger self, touching her shoulder.

The world shifted around them; from white, suddenly to a clearing.

A very special one.

It was their beloved place.

Felicia blinked in surprise, her mouth agape as she looked around. "How-"

"I thought about the 'love' you mentioned and it took me here! It's a special place for you and me, right?" Young Azura smiled beside the maid, her older self nowhere to be found -- they had merged into one, the memory of the dream already fading into a thousand starlights.

"It is... Yes, it's a very special place." Felicia sniffled, crouching to hold the little girl's hands. Azura shifted in her feet before throwing herself on Felicia's arms.

"Thank you so much, Pretty Lady!"

The maid bent down to cover the little girl, squeezing the hug to the max. "You're welcome, Azura. Always."

"Say, what's your name?" She asked, her voice already faint as the dream waved around them.

"I'm-"

"Felicia..." A distant voice called.

The maid blinked, and suddenly the dream waved more and more, crumbling under her feet. She welcomed the feeling with gusto, already knowing where the voice was coming from.

"Felicia!" It was Azura, the woman, her wife -- calling from the real world. "Oh, my love!" She woke Felicia up with a kiss. "Thank you so very much for this; you've dispelled the darkness!"

"Oh, c'mon, I didn't do anything! You're the one who were strong," Felicia wrapped both arms around her wife. "I'm so glad to see you smiling in the real world, too. Did you sleep well? Are you rested?"

"It's already dawn, you know! It took us the whole night to resolve this, and I'm so very glad it did!" Azura's smile almost hurt at the corners of her lips. "I love you so, my dear Felicia!"

"I love you t-"

"Heehee! Gruhl!" A baby's coo interrupted their almost-kiss, making the wives snort and bonk their heads.

"It seems they're feeling our happiness through our bonds," Azura smiled fondly, caressing her wife's face. She placed a kiss on her nose, then over her cheek, trailing down to the corner of her mouth until finally their lips conjoined. "Let us make them even happier, hm?"

"Ohh, I like that," Felicia bit her wife's lower lip, bringing her waist closer.

"Come, now!" Azura nudged Felicia's shoulder, quickly jumping out of bed, happy to be able to do so effortlessly, heading to the crib. She picked Linnea up, who gurgled a happy laugh as Felicia stumbled to hold Shigure.

Instead of cradling their crying babies like the day before, they now hugged their laughing children, all of them free from the cold grip of the darkness.

"I love you so much, Felicia." Azura whispered to Linnea's head, kissing it.

Felicia kissed Shigure's forehead. "I love you too, my dear Azura." She slipped one hand over her wife's waist, both of them ready to start a wonderful day alongside their family.

[manasong]

an haff strah (part 1)

Renaud and Popola had settled in their tent for the night, and as they curled in close, the smell of cinders lingered on their skin still, hours after extinguishing the campfire. It had been a long day and Renaud wanted nothing more than to fall into a deep slumber and awake sometime in the future and forget all the events leading up to this.

“Are you going to say something to him tomorrow?”  Popola asked. “I'm thinking of something..” He whispered back. Embarrassed and tired he rolled over, throwing his face into the blankets piled around his face. “Lest I make a fool of myself again, I..” His sigh was muffled.

How could any self respecting adventurer, seasoned adventurer even, crawl out and face his comrades after losing his own pride? He had been given much help along his journey, but having to be rescued from your own incompetence was humiliating.

“Of course I have felled Gods, but thank said gods you arrived when you did!” His thoughts trailed off. The others had been worried, accidents happen. But the cold, burrowing stare from Ishgard’s one and only Azure Dragoon repeated over and over in his mind.

“Permit teach me the ways of the lance..” He choked, not seriously thinking of the words leaving his mouth. “I don't teach.” Estinien stated. His stiff posture did not lend to the most inviting of airs. “Perhaps you could--” The dragoon shook his head in irritation. “I don't.” He repeated.

The dragons themselves had become more hostile the deeper they travelled into Dravanian lands. The smell of blood does not wash easily, and being trailed by a pack of wyverns vicious enough to spell his end had been a testament to his weakness as the group scraped by. It wasn't the arrows that were no good; the arrowheads had come straight from the Temple Knights after having to leave behind all of his supply from escaping Ul’dah. As he was skilled with the bow, Ser Aymeric had even vouched for their effectiveness, so it was safe to say Renaud was becoming a dead weight.

He had never been the weakest link-- and the realisation hadn't set in until Estinien’s armour almost punctured his stomach, being dangled over (a now dead) dragon. The man certainly wasn't gentle. With his free hand he plucked his lance out of the dragon's skull, as if he were picking ripe fruit. “Are you okay?” He mumbled. (Perhaps he hadn't mumbled, but the armour doesn't do much to amplify a voice.) But Renaud couldn't speak up, out of breath being held up by his chest under Estinien's left arm. Instead of words, he let out a hoarse noise. The dragoon concluded this was a 'yes’ and began to drag him back to camp.

“You don't even have any firewood with you.” He stated, almost judgmentally.

“You've got the right of it, just in need of more practice.” Practice. As if hearing those words he had understood his complacent attitude-- of course he would never be as strong as his peers if he didn't hone his skills…

And so he had set out in the evening towards Providence Point, as the gaggle of Aevis roaming the area would serve a good sparring partner. Laying low, hoping to catch the attention of one he held the polearm close to his body. 'Of all things, the ability to jump above your foe will give you leverage…’ Alberic's voice played freshly in his mind. Gripping the lance in both hands, he thrust himself onto the nearby Aevis, jabbing the spearhead through it's neck. The moment of accomplishment was merely that-- the jump had not killed the dragon and it had begun to scream in pain, garnering the attention of it's kin close by.

Frightened, he tugged the lance out from the dragon, and after a few attempts it was free. With the last tug his clumsy footing had snowballed into tumbling off of the side of the mountain. The snow did naught to dampen his fall, and laid on his back at the base of the cliffside. Donning mis-matched armour he felt and looked amateurish, so it wasn't much of a surprise his maneuvering would be any different. His embarrassment hurt more than the pain of falling, and it took a few minutes to gather himself before peeling away from the ground.

It wasn't Renaud’s intention to put on a show for those on watch duty at Camp Dragonhead, but standing up to take merely three steps and fall halfway into Witchdrop was a treat. Of course being less prepared for this fall, had cursed out in pain as opposed to the shock prior.

Night had begun to set in and the air was frigidly cold, the sky dark as could be, and every part of his body throbbing in pain. Pressing onto his elbows he could lift his head but was unable to fully lift himself up, and now was left lying on his back again as the snow fell down in a flurry. Pain was outweighing embarrassment. With the small optimism he had, Renaud started wishing that knights of House Fortemps would come retrieve him if he waited, brushing the snow that landed on his face. But the knights that did come were not for his rescue; the poor fellows didn't survive the fall.

In a swift dive, a massive dragon followed another falling knight, devouring him before reaching the cavern floor. Swallowing, it landed in a loud thud, tucking it's wings in, almost making itself comfortable while looking around at the bodies littering the floor. Fear outweighed pain as the dragon began to pick at the lifeless bodies of the knights below him, tearing through plate and chain, dirtying the freshly fallen snow.

Using his now fear-driven adrenaline, Renaud had begun to drag himself away from the beast, as it had turned it's back to him. But adrenaline didn’t quite suffice. The rusted old chainmail weighed almost as much as he, and his shoulder muscles were not up to this sort of strain. He hadn't gotten very far before the dragon had turned its attention to a squirming meal.

“Thou still live?” The dragon’s booming voice echoed in his mind. Barely, he thought. Estinien wasn’t going to be here to save him once more. The irony that his driving force to train was to avoid a situation like this… “Does thou still live?” The voice bellowed again.

“No!” Renaud yelled back with every onze of strength. “Please, I…!” The dragon roared, climbing up the side of the cliff, situating himself at a better angle to view his prey. Renaud could no longer keep himself together and dropped onto his back, hands now pulled together over his face, bracing for what was to come.

“No? That of which is dead cannot speak. Son of man, speak to me the truth.”

“I could not answer with any certainty…” he finally mustered, voice wrought with pain. “I beg of you..” The dragon roared-- sounding almost jovial.

“I would not listen to the plea of one such as yourself! Yet, the fact that you still yet live has intrigued me, much to my chagrin.” The dragon leapt back into the sky, it's large, powerful wings had kicked up the lightly dusted snow, whipping it around himself. Swiftly, the dragon tangled his claw into thick belt and chain.

Unable to pry his eyes open out of fear, he had begun to count down what remaining life he had until the dragon tossed him back into the pit. But a considerable amount of time had passed, and by the time he gathered enough courage to open his eyes, he was soaring above Whitebrim.

“Renaud! Renaud?” The shaking had woken him more so than hearing his name. Face first in the snow again, Alberic was on his knees, still shaking his shoulders. Groaning, Renaud pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Don't outdo yourself.. are you alright?” His mentor's voice was calm and yet flushed with worry. That worry was not misplaced of course, as the fallen knights of Witchdrop laid around him; the Knights of Durendaire surveying the losses.

“I could be better..” Renaud gasped, the sudden pain in his head closing his throat, spreading throughout his body, had caused him to grab at his chest. Alberic shook him again, this time causing pain from his touch. “Nghh..” Swatting at his mentor, Alberic had let go.

“A r e…. Y o u….” His voice slow, quiet, wavering. There were whispers, who else was speaking? The voices pulsed in and out with how audible they were, but none of it seemed to make sense. There was blood, there was so much blood. Who did it belong to? Was this my blood? Everything was blurry-- the spinning sky had begun to merge with the snowy hilltops until everything was white. The voices congregated, were they one voice? Many voices? “L  I  S  T  E  N . . ” It screeched, It roared. The white-ness throbbed in tandem with the chorus. “ C  A  N        Y  O  U           H   E        A R    M  E?”

“RENAUD!” This time Alberic’s voice was clear. The pain had passed, but he was still gasping for air. There was no blood, there were no other knights.

“Alberic…” Renaud breathed, murmuring “How long have I been out here..?” Alberic silently held his hand out to pull Renaud up. His eyes once alert and filled with worry were now gazing back in fear.

He needed practice.

[ashensolitude-blog]

                          The day the broken man felt again.

(:: C ┼ G ::)

        Goodbye, Christian. They were the words that echoed and continued to crash against his skull upon the stare he pressed upon the newly closed elevator doors, leaving him with nothing but the memory of the woman that had left behind them; how much time would he stay paralyzed?  A faithless man praying for the return of someone whose blue ocean of a stare had made something click either in his brain or in that metaphorical HEART everyone but he seemed to own; the one he always  i m a g i n e d  having, the one he always forbid himself from imagining having. Goodbye, Christian. Words that made a noose around his neck and stopped his breathing, words that punched wholly onto his stomach, nearly as hard as her pimp had done. 

        Goodbye.

                                   Goodbye.

                                                       Goodbye. 

        What did you do to me, Anastasia Steele? Came the soft question in his mind, barely even a whisper against the loud shouting of his past; of every and all emotions he had forbidden himself to feel, as if a dam broke down and the very ocean in her innocence’s eyes flowed down against his stomach, mind and sight. It angered him, even as his hand lifted, disgusted, to clean the moisture from his face, crying?, mindless upon that stare on the elevator doors. Please come back. For he had let MANY submissives go, sometimes even encouraged them to, and never once had he been left in such a…  v u l n e r a b l e  state. 

        Vulnerable. 

        Perhaps that was what he hated the most, what had made everything come crashing against his mind; for that feeling had been foreign to him since speech came back into his life…                     Sitting in the too big room, still scared of even speaking of his hunger,                     looking at the little baby girl PRESENTED to him in his new mommy’s                     cradled arms.     “ Mia. ”    Came the single word from his previously                     mute lips, bringing  t e a r s  to Dr. Travelyan-Grey’s eyes.   “ Yes,                      that’s right. This is Mia, your new sister. ”   …foreign since the very last night he saw the CRACKWHORE’S open eyes, mirroring a trapped storm inside the crystallized  t e m p e s t  of a broken snow globe…                     “ Mommy. ”    The  four  year  old’s  voice spoke again,    his middle                      hurting as much from hunger as the too-hard contact from the man’s                      boot before he left the place. His little arm bruised, the last cigarette                        burn stinging against the  fabric  of  his broken shirt as it stuck inside                      the open wound;  even his small hand, HURTING, as it was from the                      man’s stepping on it, reached for the   c o r p s e ’ s   cold arm, as if                      the contact alone would bring the woman back.                      The tears had dried,    regardless of his  continued  sobs;     after all,                      dehydration  prevented  tears  from  flowing anymore.   “ Mommy. ”                        He repeated,  fixing his blanky against her stomach, as if that alone                      were to make her no longer COLD,   “ Mommy. ”    As if he weren’t                      forever left  a l o n e. …foreign since he had forbidden any natural emotion from making him feel anything at all, lest he felt too much. 

        But there he was. VULNERABLE broken, silently crying, feeling his heart fall into his stomach for the very sadness, anger, disgust, and even  f e a r  that troubled his once emotionless mind. What did you do to me? He had forbidden it all from falling, he had refused to become the little helpless boy he had once been, he had taken onto Elena’s teachings like an armour to protect his mind from feeling even the anger that had gotten him into so much trouble as a teen. No anger, no sadness, no other feeling other than disgust onto himself over the monster he KNEW himself to be, and the vulnerable little boy he couldn’t help but have been. Hate for who he was inside, doubt over what people wanted from him, knowledge that only his outside beauty brought upon the many women he had  s u b d u e d,  and deserving of the punishments Elena Lincoln had introduced him to. Things he didn’t allow himself to think of, things he thought to be in the past, things he hated, things he had wanted to forget but had been unable to for the nightmares that reminded him of every single second of his miserable life. 

        Until Anastasia Steele had stumbled into his office and the heart he had frozen upon his teenage years THAWED and developed feelings over her innocence and virginity. What have you done to me?  Until his protection left her drunk and  u n t o u c h e d  on his hotel bed and refused to sleep on the couch, making it the first night without nightmares since he could remember. Anastasia. Until he broke every single one of his thought out rules and allowed himself the comfort he didn’t deserve by her side, sleeping beside her  ( thus, scaring away the nightmares, as if she were some magical human dreamcatcher ),  allowing her disobedience and liking her the more for it, enjoying their banter, feeling joy, laughter, GENUINELY, at her texts, emails, and pretty rolling eyes. You asked this of me. Until he let her into the private means of the life he had  f o r b i d d e n  himself to speak about and only forced her comfort onto a blanket he did not think he deserved. Until, suddenly, every single feeling he had been holding back, every single emotion he had forbidden, came tumbling down against his chest in a manner in which the only thing that remained was his frozen body in front of closed elevator doors and his silent and hateful tears flowing down his cheeks. 

        He was done; he was FINISHED; he was fucked. 

        What have you done to me? 

        He was  h u m a n.

-[ ◘ ]-

[princebxte-blog]

Chapter 3 || Mon sort

т r a n ѕ f o r м d

It had been a full year since I had last seen my mentor, less then a year since the strange woman came to visit and my appearance had changed rapidly I couldn’t breathe, because of what I had become. My life was a mess in more ways than one. I could no longer properly conduct myself in the role that was passed down to me through my parent’s lineage. Everything had been spoiled, and I failed this witch who cast a spell on me. Her conditions proved to be too great for me to match up to, and I knew that I was doomed. I even attempted to throw a ball on Christmas, but because of the rumors… No one dare attended. It was all a matter of time. But then, nothing… My servants offered me gifts to lift my spirits, for they were also afraid… Not quite understanding what all was happening, but knowing that the others had disappeared… I merely scoffed disapproval, but the only reason I was such a brat was because I was afraid… The minutes had ticked down to the very second of a full year, I closed my eyes expected to die…To feel pain. But then nothing. Nothing happened My panic quieted and I was relieved… Perhaps… Maybe this spell was not real? Maybe my servants had been disappearing for other various reasons and I had not looked into it… Maybe this was all just simple folly. My court composer offered to play me a tune for the season and I commended him to play. As he did so, I began to think that I was played a fool and this was all a joke. My servants might even be in on it, and my mind was beginning to tell me that everything and everyone was a lie. They all just wanted to get close to me to torture me and take pleasure in tormenting what was left of the stone cold heart I had. They didn’t know what they were dealing with… Making a comment about the song Forte was playing A sudden knock was heard at my door. What is this? It can’t be… That minutes have passed… Maybe another stranger in the night. This time it was the chilling dark shadow of a specter. My eyes widened as on long bony finger lifted to point at me accusingly. Making my heart bang around in the cage my ribs formed within the concave of my chest. Just like that…An immense feeling of stretching overcame me. I looked down at my breast, grasping at the tunic I wear, tearing it away so to see what was transpiring. Complete horror filled me at what I was able to witness. My own organs began pushing against my flesh from the inside, frightening me to the core. I was going to die! It felt like my entire body was going to implode on itself with each transforming part of my anatomical form. How could this be happening to me??My doom was past due. The voice in my head was nothing by laughter, like it had won some prize. What is this? Why are you laughing? This is no joke, this is nothing to celebrate. But it felt almost animalistic, inhuman… unreal and uncontrollable. This part of me was not I I think… That part is what was the most frightening of all…. I was not me. I was never me… Am I a prince now?

M o n S o r т

You know I never chose to be like this… I ... I never wanted this I never wanted anything but my own … mind It’s like trying to swallow knives, what sort of torture my body and mind went through… Trying to cycle through and expel these large metallic pieces that do nothing but cut through me, and make me bleed on the floor. The years were a blur. Endless streams of darkness, reminders… Mirrors, and reflections. Fragments of light taunting me, and the terms of my conviction became perspicuous during the days of the sun, when my world would cast a more definite shadow than the bleakest of days. I could no longer maintain my hair, my clothing, my body or my mind for all went rampant, and the witch that did this to me… Was more right then a judge or jury combined. I was imprisoned here, with no way out all because of my foolish ways that could be no one's fault but my own. No pity was expected, nor was it desired. I wanted to find no comment on my face, for it was as ugly as the heart that I had. This was a hopeless spell with no why to cure, and even if it was described to me in multiple fashions I was doubtful. For who could ever love a Beast? My fate, was that my entire castle, my servants-family, everything that I had associated with at that current time would become a part of the guilt that would weigh on my heart, and of course the spell that was on myself. They would all forever be as it was made to be because of me. The fate of everyone and myself was the spell unless I could come to terms and risk it to find someone to love me. Though, I would never leave my forsaken fortress where I found sanctuary and solitude at once. How would finding anyone to love me in that way that of a couple in matrimony where I am stuck here in this dark place? But of all things, what human would love me in such a way as the way I am? Impossible Is what I’ll tell you… There was no way anyone could ever know of my castle for it was stated thati n the spell, my kingdom, my presence, life and the lives of my servants were all forgotten. No one knew of us, and they went on living ten years in ignorance. At the same time I had been gifted the lovely reminder of not only my reflection in mirros and waters, but the reflection of my time in a rose. It was the delicate symbol of my hopeless chance at finding my perfect match… If any petal fell, it was to signify the passed time in which I had a chance to meet the end of this curse, it was also said that if the rose was made to die in any way… I too would die… If any outside force were to wreck the beauty of this fragile life… I would be as a Beast forever, and the rest of the castle would be as it was in result of my actions. Almost like it were within another dimension Am I a prince now? I immediately dismissed this. All of it. This rose will die, and will kill the humanity in us all before I could find a special someone to be the savior to our curse… If anyone were to find there way in the castle, I’d have them suffer with me the cold fate my life was destined for. Even so… The curse could not be complete without another poor reminder. A window. A mirror… Reflection. Holding a mysterious and great power, this relic was gifted to me by the same one who cursed me, as a window to look into the world I had missed that had forgotten me. The people were all so complacent, and ignorant. Of course they had forgotten, but no one… Not one person could wonder what things were the way they were… Always the same. Stuck in the same life.

M a n and M o n s t e r

This was 10 years. Day after day… I began to forget the man and the beast. I began to forget what I was, and started to become the voice in my mind. The voice that drove me to animalistic instincts. This thing within me was possessing over my thoughts, my muscles and desires. Everything was about survival. The primitive instincts, and of course the need to make things suffer. I regret to say the sort of things I did as the chimera-like animal I was. Lurking in the shadows where no one could see my hideous form, but free within the woods of the black forest. Hunting, smelling and taking in the land as if I were the king of it. It was somewhat liberating in a sense, to be like this… But the human part of me yearned to have more, and then there was the regret and agony of never getting what I truly desired as a human all because of my mistakes. There were plenty of days where I tried acting normal. Tried dressing myself, feeding myself proper meals, drinking tea, sitting in chairs. What I did most was sit in front of the fireplace, gaze into the smoldering embers and the flicker of the flame… mesmerized by it’s dance in hopes that it might distract me from the other side of me that wished to run from it. I also daydreamed. Even if it were an awful means of torture. I would live in the pictures along the halls, and the architecture that was once designed to portray a small piece of heaven yet now seemed to have changed to a striking resemblance of what it might be like to live in hell. Whenever I day dreamed and saw myself as a man, I’d get angry, and tear apart whatever I could put my claws on. My claws… I lived in hell The voice told me I’d never escape this fate I agreed and listened to it Every day I put a scratch mark in the wall of my bedroom… This room become filled with scratch marks, and I could count a year… It felt like my once well educated mind had dumbed down to nothing. Perhaps it was because I dare not try to play a piano. Lest my nails scratch the beautiful ivory…. I forgot how to read… I forgot how to do a lot of things as each day… each year passed… I would let down my diploma for I forgot all things I learned in school. I think I even burned my diploma. I don’t even remember, the raging beast within me took up my actions. But what I do remember is that during this time I became obsessed with the rose. With it’s glow and it’s representation… I remember seeing the first petal fall… Sweeping it away to keep the table clean, it might be the only thing in the entire castle that was not dingy and dusty Not only that, but I was terrified of it. I had waited one year as a child to become this…. thing Now here I am… Waiting for the inevitable death of humanity that was still in this place, but also curious to how it would feel to be nothing. Without a mind or a life… to think only in terms of a Beast that may never find it’s mate. My days as a prince were short, but my days as a human were now numbered. Was I ever a human?

F A T E F U L || D A Y

This one night might have been the second most bleakest of all compared to the night before. It left the mountains filled with snow and animals hungry, looking for prey to feed upon. For even the tiniest scrap to sustain upon was better then nothing. This very same night, was one that brought a lonesome traveller to my door. I was aware of his presence, but let my housekeepers believe in my ignorance. My balcony had the perfect view of the main bridge that leads to the mainland, where the forest greets the others side. And when I noticed a pack of rampant wolves at my gate, then I knew there must be something on the other side… The inside that lead to my castle, on it’s way to get in. He had no horse, and I was rather curious as to what happened to his transportation. Seeing as their patterns in hunting only seek out an individual that is deemed the weakest to take down. His horse must have gone astray, and if it were a smart horse. It may follow back down the trail whence it came. I wanted to roll my eyes at the thought of another man using my things. It made my blood boil with anger, but of all… This was a human, for once here… A human has arrived, but of course… Not the one he so wished to have as the emancipator for his turmoil. The old, portly old man would be of no use, and he has already lived a long and probably joyous life considering his state of being. He seemed rather healthy… So why not give him hell like I had so learned? A scare… Perhaps. . The poor old man… He didn’t know what was coming till the sounds of my voice hushed the flames of the fireplace into nothing but smoke. My mere presence extinguished any hope there was inside that room, and I dragged him to the tower where he would become my prisoner for a few days. I did not feed him, I didn’t nothing… I left him to die there… To rot as I would rot and feel as I would feel. A prisoner with no hope, not light to be saved by… But then There was someone else at the castle quickly to follow. Looking for him. Surely no human was as good in heart as this. To risk coming to my castle through the black forest infested with blood thirsty wolves, to search for this pitiful old coward… But I was wrong. Oh … So very wrong. A girl, a young woman came searching for this older fellow. I guess you could say I was shocked, but equally attempted to frighten her, like I had with the man. Convincing her that no matter what she did she couldn’t take him home. He was to be my prisoner forever Quickly realizing it was her father, and what puzzled me the most was that she urged me to make a deal with her. Her life for his. What? Who does this? She was young with a full life ahead of her, free to do whatever she wanted, even without a father to restrict her. This older fellow was past 50 and had seen enough days that me and this young woman combined… And yet…. She wanted to trade herself for him. I thought humans were supposed to be these cold creatures incapable of feeling for others. Especially such a gentle love. I never felt this before, not enough to recognize it within myself. Maybe the whisper of a dream of what I thought was a tender touch. From a mother… A father… A friend… A teacher? No! I hardened my heart, but managed to let her pleas get beneath my pelt. Allowing this deal to take place, while also thinking about the curse and the slight possibility that she might be the one to break it. Of course… She would never A part of me wished it were possible, and just as I accepted and sent her father away before she could say goodbye… I realized that this really could be my chance, and I was now making bad marks to start our relationship off, but she was my prisoner now… Special prisoner…