#Ancestral Tale {Short Story Post}

[vulpinefrost]

} New URL finally decided, new tags alongside this

#Foxy {Amane} - #Frosted {Amane NSFW}

#Tribal {Valkyr} - #Bristling {Valkyr NSFW}

#Curious Kit {Ask Memes}

#Chittering {Dash Commentary} - #Gekkering {Random IC}

#Friendly Critter {Open Starter}

#Set in Ice and Stone {Headcanons}

#Ancestral Legends {Story Post} - #Ancestral Tale {Short Story Post}

[mysticalstuff]

Anne & Tristian

Description: Love sparks in the City: A Heartwarming Tale of Connection, Courage, and Everlasting Love, between Anne & Tristian.

{Sfw, romance, enjoy}

Chapter 4

Anne and Tristian's relationship blossomed, their love intertwining like the wires in Tristian's electrical projects. They spent their days exploring the beautiful landscapes surrounding Springfield, hand in hand, lost in each other's company.

One sunny afternoon, as they strolled along the shimmering shores of Lake Springfield, Tristian stopped abruptly, his eyes widening in shock. Anne followed his gaze, her heart racing with anticipation. What could have caught his attention?

Before them stood a magnificent old oak tree, its branches reaching towards the heavens. But what made it truly extraordinary was the small, weathered plaque attached to its trunk. Tristian's gasp filled the air as he read the inscription aloud.

"This tree is dedicated to the memory of Anne's great-great-grandfather, Peter Marshall."

Anne's eyes widened in disbelief. She had always felt a deep connection to her ancestors, but she never imagined that her beloved Tristian would discover such a surprising tie between them. They stood there in awe, as if time stood still.

Tristian turned to Anne, his voice trembling with emotion. "Anne, this tree... this connection we have... it's more than just fate bringing us together. It's a bond that stretches through generations."

Anne's heart swelled with love as she realized the depth of their connection. Never had she imagined that her great-great-grandfather's presence would play such a significant role in her own love story. It was as if he had orchestrated this union from beyond the grave.

With tears glistening in his eyes, Tristian pulled Anne into a warm embrace. They stood beneath the branches of the tree, its leaves whispering secrets of the past, bringing comfort and serenity to their hearts.

In that moment, Anne and Tristian knew that their love was destined to withstand any challenge. As they continued their journey together, they were filled with a renewed sense of purpose and gratitude for the incredible tapestry of life.

Little did they know that their story was about to take yet another surprising turn, one that would test the strength of their love and the depth of their commitment. But for now, they held each other tightly, finding solace in the knowledge that their connection was built not only on shared interests but also on a beautiful, ancestral bond.

As the sun set over Lake Springfield, casting a golden glow on the horizon, Anne and Tristian whispered promises of forever, knowing that their love would weather any storm that crossed their path.

And so, their extraordinary love story continued, brimming with unexpected twists and turns, fueled by a love that defied time and distance.

{I feel like this one is too short, but this was rushed. Also, sorry this was posted at 1 Am…(At least where I’m at…) But, enjoy!}

[sauntervaguelydown]

someone else has already talked about the domestication thing, so I'm not gonna throw my hat in there, but. If you want to know about Coyotes, think "goblin". Goblins and all those weird dark shy creatures often forgotten by modern fairy tales. The skittish scavengers of the humanoid family. Like and unlike wolves; they don't have that majesty, but they can get closer to us than wolves can.

Overall, this idea provides the extremely badass flavor of "Elves are Scary Actually" and combines it with the legacy of the best short comic on tumblr, which would be enough to make me love it already. (Elves as eldritch, and using the lens of interspecies distance to explain what eldritch feels like.) But it's especially intriguing to think of elves as a predatory species. In modern fantasy, post-Tolkein, elves have a specific enlightened vegetarian kind of vibe, you know what I mean? But this is Wild Hunt elves, not Lothlorien elves. What are they doing out there, beyond the edges of civilization? Have they been pushed out of their ancestral homes? Are the gods that made humans out there striking any elves that come too close? How much about the way a human lives would an elf understand? What kind of circumstances produce a true half-elf?

Like dogs and wolves--Is it just that we live different kinds of lives, or is it that we're different kinds of creatures?

I did my graduate research on elf stories, and not for nothing, but elves seducing and producing half-breed offspring is some of the very oldest material we have in the records. If you go back to 1100 CE, English elf is basically interchangeable with latin incubus. How half-elves are made and what becomes of them is an old element of medieval supernatural stories, so in a world like the one OP describes, I can't imagine people would be any less fascinated by the topic.

Even if the danger of pseudo-cannibalism might be a lot more real than the possibility of unsettling, bizarre children.

Random story thought: What if a fantasy story where there's humans and elves, who are less like different nationalities and/or "human, but in a different font", but more like the difference between dogs and wolves? Like they resemble humans, but are very, very clearly not human. And half-elves, like wolfdogs, are known to be theoretically possible, but so improbable and rare that they might as well be a myth. Like everybody's school had that one kid who loves lying for attention who keeps insisting that they actually know somebody who's a real half-elf for real.

And in the extremely rare case where their friend of a friend who's "totally actually a real half-elf" even exists at all, 99 times out of 100, the aforementioned suspected hybrid is just a 100% full human who's unusually tall, beautiful and autistic. Something that can definitely fool someone who's never seen a real half-elf, and is willing to believe that this friend's mom actually for real fucked an elf (instead of getting hunted for sport, and possibly eaten, which is the more likely outcome of encountering elves in the wild). But it's almost always just a full human with vaguely 'elvish' features.

But once in a blue moon, there actually is a real half-elf, and once you've seen one, you won't mistake a full human for one of them again. They're gangly, not just tall but long-limbed in a way that humans are not, their speech is strangely composed as if they learned their first language as a second language, and their eyes are piercing, wild, inhuman eyes, with a gaze full of strange instinctive wisdom that humans were never meant to know. Secret elvish thoughts that even they, personally, wish they didn't have.

And it sinks in to you that elves, that are so alien to you, would also find this poor creature just as strange and unsettling as you do.

[stayecstatic]

WK 10 - PHANTOM

You’re sitting in your room and you are watching your favorite show. The night outside is dark and your room is filled with cold air. While watching, you spot someone walking down your street. It looks to be human, but it’s too dark to make out a face. It continues to walk down your street and into the darkness. The next day, you find out there was a murder near your area. You start wondering if it was connected to what you saw last night. Was it? In this blog, we will see how the supernatural can take hold of a human body.

Phantoms are mysterious entities associated with the supernatural. They are ghostly apparitions that may appear as shadowy figures, flickering lights, or misty forms. They are often linked to spirits of the dead or unexplained supernatural occurrences. The idea of a phantom comes from old beliefs, stories, and myths that tried to explain strange or supernatural events. The word itself is derived from the Greek term "phantasma," which means "appearance" or "illusion." Historically, it has been used to describe ghostly figures or spirits. In ancient Greek and Roman cultures, phantoms were seen as the spirits of the dead, often showing up as signs or lost souls with unfinished business. Similarly, in Eastern traditions, these spectral beings were thought to be souls that hadn't reached their goals or protectors. During the medieval times, phantoms became part of folk tales, commonly linked to hauntings, curses, or sad events, and were often connected to specific places like cemeteries or battlefields. In religious views, Christianity saw phantoms as souls in purgatory, evil spirits, or even angels, while shamanistic beliefs considered them ancestral spirits or nature beings that could be engaged with through rituals. Over time, the concept of phantoms shifted from spiritual and mythological origins to a key part of literature, theater, and modern ghost stories.

Do they exist? Let’s read this short story about one…

“The Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado, has been around for more than 100 years and was built as a posh getaway for the wealthy seeking solitude in the mountains.

As the years passed, however, occupancy declined, and by the 1970s, the grand hotel had fallen into disrepair. It was around that time that famed author Stephen King spent the night there and was inspired to write the book “The Shining.”

The book and blockbuster film helped return the Stanley to its former glory. Now, guests come in droves to see the hotel that inspired one of the scariest horror movies of all time.

Given its history, it should come as no surprise that many visitors report strange happenings. Aware of the ghostly rumors, Texas resident Henry Yau booked a last-minute getaway in April of 2016 to “check it out.”

After arriving, Yau had dinner, then wandered around the Stanley to take photos. Stopping at the staircase, he waited for people to clear the area, then took a picture, thinking nothing of it.

Later that night, however, Yau fell seriously ill. “I felt really sick, I had the shivers, I was like, something’s really wrong,” he tells TODAY.com. His companion suggested he go to the emergency room, but Yau refused.

On the trip home, Yau began swiping through the photos he’d taken when he discovered what he said was a “really, really strange image” of someone standing on the stairs.

Except no one had been there.

The next day, he posted the photo on Instagram, half-joking that he’d captured a ghost — and the world took notice. Almost overnight, Yau found himself in the limelight with his ghost picture warranting attention from global media outlets and paranormal experts who wanted to examine the photo.

“Some experts say that there’s two ghosts, and other people said that the reason I got sick is because the ghost was trying to materialize, taking energy out of me,” he said. “There’s so many theories about this.”

And what does Yau think? “I have no idea,” he says with a laugh.”

I don’t know about you, but if I saw something I’m not supposed to see, I’d run far away.

The Phantom of the Opera was originally a novel by Gaston Leroux in 1910. It is a gothic love story and mystery that takes place in the Paris Opera House. It explores themes of love, obsession, and tragedy. The story centers on Erik, the Phantom, who is a disfigured musical genius living in the maze beneath the opera house. He is feared as a ghostly figure but secretly helps Christine Daaé, a young soprano, achieve success. As Erik becomes obsessed with Christine, she is caught between her gratitude for him and her affection for Raoul, a nobleman and her childhood friend. Driven by jealousy, the Phantom disrupts performances and creates turmoil to keep Christine close. In a tense moment, he kidnaps her, forcing her to choose between staying with him or rescuing Raoul, who he has also taken. Christine’s kindness, kissing the Phantom despite his appearance, moves him and ultimately leads him to let her and Raoul go before he disappears into the darkness. This story challenges our views on beauty, love, and humanity, showing the Phantom as a tragic character whose loneliness and suffering lead to his harmful choices.

Erik, known as the Phantom in The Phantom of the Opera, is a complicated and sorrowful character who adds emotional depth to the story. He was born with a serious facial deformity, which led to a lifetime of rejection and cruelty. Because of this, he chose to live in hidden quarters under the Paris Opera House. This underground home is both his refuge and his prison. Although he is feared as the Opera Ghost, Erik is incredibly talented in music, architecture, and invention, but his genius is overshadowed by his bitterness and loneliness.

His intense love for Christine Daaé, a young soprano he mentors in secret, shows both his vulnerability and his darker side. Erik's love for her is passionate but possessive, which causes him to interfere with performances and threaten anyone who gets close to her. Deep down, his harsh actions come from a strong desire for love and acceptance.

Supernatural is a long-running TV show about two brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, who travel around the United States hunting monsters, demons, ghosts, and other supernatural beings. The story starts when the brothers come together after their father, a skilled monster hunter, goes missing while trying to find the demon that killed their mother. As they journey, they discover a bigger battle involving angels, demons, and powerful beings like Lucifer and God. The show mixes action, horror, and drama as the brothers confront outside dangers and their own personal struggles, including issues of fate, family loyalty, and morality. Throughout the series, Sam and Dean make friends with characters like the angel Castiel and the demon Crowley while dealing with challenging relationships and sacrifices. Supernatural looks at themes of good versus evil, free will, and family bonds, creating an engaging mix of emotional stories and exciting adventures in a detailed supernatural world.

Phantoms, or ghosts, are a common supernatural element. These spirits usually belong to individuals who have died but haven’t moved on to the afterlife. They often remain because they have unfinished business, past trauma, or unresolved issues related to their deaths. Some ghosts are angry and seek revenge against the living, while others are more sorrowful, looking for closure or simply peace.

The ghosts in Supernatural can show themselves in different ways. They might appear as floating or transparent figures, or act like poltergeists by moving objects or causing chaos. Some haunt specific places, like old houses or hospitals, while others can possess or influence the living to get what they want.

Here’s an example of the Phantom Traveler.

To close this blog off, I don’t believe in phantoms. However, phantoms are a really cool idea. A part of me wants to experience the supernatural and see it with my own eyes. I’ve heard noises in my house before, sometimes even when I’m home alone, but I don’t really mind all of that. Personally, I love the idea of phantoms. Ghosts in general are so interesting. Like I always ask if the videos I see online are real or fake. Some people have some really good editing skills, so it’s easy to fake something. But I play tons of horror games and I think I’m insane enough to the point where I want to experience a whole ghost in real life. I love ghosts and wish, they were…. real. Maybe one day I’ll experience it and I’ll record it on here.

Watch who is human and who isn’t. You never know who is posing to be a living being with unfinished business.

[jrobinsonw23]

Blogpost #6 Final Sentiments

 This last blog post is dedicated to my overall feelings and sentiments on the entirety of this course. The concepts we discussed throughout this quarter have given me a newfound appreciation for horror as a genre. This appreciation extends to both black characters that are in horror films and to the subgenre of black horror. This class has also made me excited about the future of the state of black horror. In this course, Tales from the Hood and the short films from the Horror Noire Anthology caused the most excitement and were the most notable projects from the curriculum. This is because of the various issues addressed in these works. Prior to this course, the film Tales from the Hood was already one of my favorite horror movies, but being able to speak with Rusty and see some of the thought processes that went into creating the stories gave me more appreciation for the film and the subtle messaging that is carried out throughout the various short stories. Similar to these films/short stories, I also greatly appreciated the fact that this course explored a variety of horror topics and themes. In the Wake, Eve's Bayou, and Love Wanga, we were exposed to black ancestral magic and voodoo. With Son of Ingagi, Eve's Bayou, and Candyman (the remake), we were shown black people in their professional careers. We have black fantasy and mystery being explored in Beloved, Blacula, and US. Family trauma is also explored in Beloved and Eve's Bayou. These are just a few of the many theme components in this class. The ability to be exposed to the genre of black horror in such an enriching way, in a process that exists, reveals a myriad of concepts, both bound in real racial experiences and in fiction. I think this element of the course, in addition to the engaging discussion regarding the material, is what propelled so many of our students and my peers to do so well with their short stories and short films revealed in the last two sessions of class.      I was extremely impressed with the quality of the work that my fellow students put out for the creative projects. Withsome of the work, I feel it was on par with some of the material we've engaged with this quarter that we were assigned. Yet another testament to the quality of the work that we were able to absorb this quarter.

[emblemxeno]

JP vs. Localization in Fire Emblem Fates: Revelation

(Okay, for real this time lol)

Again, here’s a link to my sources post.

Fortunately, this route follows suit in terms of good localization quality after Conquest. It’s the shortest out of all the posts, since I don’t really have a lot to talk about. Mostly subtle line changes, references and a few key points of information that were cut out. I also went through Hidden Truths and Heirs of Fate to see if I could add stuff from those on here, but there were no big problems that I found.

Once again, the main part of this post will all be put under the cut. If a chapter isn’t covered, it means I didn’t think there were any differences worth talking about.

I’ll use localized names for characters and locations, unless I feel the need to do otherwise.

I’ll be using she/her when referring to Corrin in this post. (I flipped a coin to decide the gender lol)

Also, note that after Chapter 14, the translation of this route on Fateswartable ends, so I mostly relied on the English patch done by Serenes at that point forward. (I also used PegasusKnight.com as a reference to fall back on if I needed it)

Chapter 7

-A minor gripe I have with localization. The JP version compares Touma (Valla) to hell constantly. To jump ahead a bit, I believe in the JP versions of the End of All Sky/Land/Below tracks are even called The End of All Roads Heaven/Earth/Hell. The Vallites are also often called demons in the JP version, and Anankos himself is known as the ‘Invisible Demon Dragon’.

Another cool thing I just thought of too, is a connection to a popular Japanese short story. Zelda fans might be familiar with the story, “The Spider’s Thread”, which inspired the Ancient Cistern dungeon in Skyward Sword.

The beginning of the story has Buddha walking through paradise (heaven), before coming across a pond. The pond is filled with crystal clear water, and covered with water lilies/lotuses. As Buddha gazes further into the pond, he begins to see the depths of hell.

Sound familiar? “Azura is walking through Hoshido, before coming across a lake. The lake is filled with crystal clear water, and when she gazes into the lake she sees the fallen kingdom of her birth. Valla, the kingdom associated with water lilies/lotuses in the game, has been turned into hell itself.”

This association loses its meaning a bit when the comparisons to hell are a bit toned down, as well as when the Buddhist inspirations were kind of supplanted in favor of Greek renames. It’s not supremely important to the plot as a whole, but it’s something interesting I wanted to bring up.

-In the JP version, while explaining what happened in Valla, Azura eventually says “Using the art of manipulating people’s souls, he (Hydra/Anankos) made the people kill each other.” This bit of the people killing each other was cut in localization.

Chapter 12

-In the JP version, when Corrin asks Flora if she knows anything about dragons, Flora says “Sorry, I don’t know…The ancestral dragon of the Ice Clan has already perished and isn’t part of the legend. I don’t know what role it plays, sorry…” Localization makes her response “I'm sorry, but I can't think of anything... They've been gone so long that we don't even have tales of dragons in the Ice Tribe. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more assistance...”

So, the JP version explicitly says the Ice Dragon is dead (I believe Fates’ second artbook mentioned this as well), whereas the localization only says the First Dragons have been gone for a long time.

Chapter 16

-There’s not really much of a problem that I have with what Ryoma says about Corrin “having leadership qualities at a young age” but I wanted to do comparisons regardless cuz the word choice might lead one to different conclusions. In localization, Ryoma says this:

Ryoma: Huh... So she told us the same thing... I don't think it's in Corrin's nature to lie. And there's a leadership quality about her that just attracts followers. I remember being jealous of her as a child, in fact. Even at such a young age, she displayed the characteristics of a ruler. Silly to be jealous of her, right?

In the JP version, Ryoma says this:

Ryoma: Oh... So, she told you the same thing. …Corrin isn’t one to tell lies. She’s been like that since childhood. She’s always genuine and honest... She has this mysterious appeal that draws people to her. Seeing my younger sister with the qualities of being a ruler... Honestly, it makes me feel envious. …What a ridiculous thing to say, right?

Again, I don’t necessarily have a problem with how it was localized, but some might. The localization version might have people think that Corrin somehow was a fantastic leader at such a young age, but JP is more clear that it was about the qualities she had at a young age that would be valuable as a leader.

Chapter 19

-A minor gripe. In the localization, Azura says that Anankos uses his magic to send Vallites to Nohr and Hoshido to stir up conflict. In the JP version, she says he uses magic, along with the help of a body of water. That’s why whenever you fight Vallites outside of Valla proper, there’s a body of water nearby; Hoshido’s lake (and the ponds shown in Hinoka’s CQ battle which are in the capital) for Chapter 5, the sea for BR chapter 11, the burning falls for BR chapter 21, and the city for Rev chapter 13. Similarly, the consequences of being a victim to the curse are described as “turning into sea foam” in the JP version. Localization as a whole kind of toned down how much water has an influence on the story.

Chapter 23

-Probably the pettiest gripe I have lol. As Arete is fading away from Azura’s arms, Azura has a different reaction in localization and Japanese. In localization, Azura says “Mother? Mother!” while a voice clip of her in-battle pain cries plays. In the JP, she says  “*Sob... Sob*…! Mother... Mother...!”, while a voice clip of her crying plays. Her crying voice clip I don’t recall hearing anywhere else.

This is one of the few times in the you get to see Azura express a heavy and heartfelt emotion, since her rough childhood caused her to remain guarded and stoic around everyone. The equivalents to this scene in other routes is her death scene in Birthright, and her crying with Corrin over Ryoma’s death in Conquest; a normally unflinching and aloof character breaking down is a rarity, and indicates that the cause of it is something to take note of for the character as a whole. Localization softened this aspect, and I take issue with it, despite it probably seeming trivial to most other people.

Chapter 24

-When Corrin is questioning the phantom Mikoto, an exchange happens. In localization, part of it goes like this:

Corrin: But this can't be... Are you truly my mother?

Mikoto: I am. Even as a puppet of Anankos, my spirit at least remains my own.

Corrin: I... I believe you.

In the JP version, it goes like this:

Corrin: It can’t be... …Are you really my mother?

Mikoto: Yes... I became an Invisible servant, controlled by the Invisible King... Even so, I am your mother.

Corrin:  …………

Again, a minor thing that I don’t personally have issue with, but replacing Corrin’s silence with an admittance of belief could make some believe she has “reverted” back to being too naïve.

Chapter 26

-While Gunter is relaying his past, an exchange happens. In localization, it goes like this:

Gunter: I ask myself that, every day. I cannot understand the minds of royals. To you all, we commoners are little more than pawns in your schemes... Or weeds to be killed on a whim.

Corrin: That's not true...

Xander: Is that how people view the royalty?

Ryoma: Such an impression would easily breed powerful resentment...

In the JP version, Corrin, Xander and Ryoma don’t say anything. They just remain silent.

Endgame

-Not a major problem so much as a general thing about the game, but I can think of like... at least three memes that Treehouse inserted into the localization. Now I like memes, but there is no better way to date your media nowadays. One of them was Kana’s “That’s dragon for I love you” which tbh, is kind of cute and isn’t the most well known meme so I guess I can let it slide. Another is Felicia saying “I had one job!” when she messes up in the dining hall, which isn’t that big of a deal since the dining hall is very optional.

The last one I can think of is why I put this specific grievance here, and it’s during Corrin’s speech before facing Anankos.

Corrin: We won't back down! This is my... This is our destiny! Ready your weapons! Fight for your friends! With the Seal of Flames... With the Fire Emblem on our side! We fight for our world!!

Yeah, she says “Fight for your friends” which is everyone’s favorite Ike line from Brawl. Now, this isn’t even a totally inaccurate translation either, but it kind of just... makes the moment funny for the player when it’s supposed to be commanding and serious I guess.

But yeah, not the most important issue by far, but something I’d thought to mention. Hell, it’s not even that bad compared to how they made Peri’s, Effie’s and Hisame’s quirks into exaggerated and tired jokes. And the Beruka-Saizo support. Never forget.

-When Azura and Corrin are by the lake and discuss the latter’s plans to rule, Corrin says this in localization:

Corrin: I'm going to make Valla a wonderful place! In honor of the true last king and for Queen Arete. And everyone who fought... I promise to make them all proud.

In the JP version, she says this:

Corrin: I’ll make the Invisible Kingdom (Valla) into a great land. For the previous monarch, Queen Shenmei (Arete)… And for all of my allies who fought beside me. I promise.

So, JP version only mentions Arete as the reigning monarch of Valla. Which makes sense, cuz unless there was some wild “keeping the bloodline pure” shenanigans in Valla, Arete being the Queen keeps in line with what we know about the rest of Valla’s history. Arete was royalty from birth, as was her sister Mikoto. Arete is the one who passed down Lost in Thoughts and the pendant to Azura.  

[n1ghtcrwler]

It's really cool of you to ask! I'm doing one of these posts for each of my books or series, but you can also find the public-facing info on all my projects on my personal website.

Tall Tales is a series that's planned to be five books and some undecided number of standalone short stories, of which two books and two short stories are currently published. It's a series of paranormal horror and urban fantasy short stories that follow a small group of core characters and weave together into one large tale as the characters are brought together around a common fate. The first drafts of most stories in the first two volumes were posted as a webserial on the Tall Tales site and are still available for free there, though the books contain all the edited versions and additional stories. The standalone short stories are, for now, first published as annual convention-exclusives; that is, each year, I have a short story available during any live events that is only available to people at that live events for that calendar year, and then when the year ends it becomes available on my website and I write a new one. The series is epistolary, written mostly as first-person blog posts or in-world records. Books are available directly on the story's website or through a number of stores linked there.

The series is not intended for young audiences and includes references to sex, mild drug use, and drinking, occasional violence, as well as the horror elements. Most of the stories take place from 2004-2032 and a lot of it happens in or near western Pennsylvania, USA, though there are outliers. The complexity of having stories jump around between characters and time periods led me to create a wiki for it, though I haven't spent much time actually populating it and it definitely needs some help to become especially useful.

Main Cast (ages and backgrounds given as of 2004; any information not listed is not stated in the books):

John Matteson: POV character, 22 years old, black man, possibly asexual (it's suggested in the story that he might be, and he's written as though he is, but he expresses little interest in actually identifying as anything). Matteson is an Anchor, a rare type of human with supernatural ancestry that can see and be seen by, as well as physically interact with, the spiritual realm. Finding the supernatural unavoidable and having been trained in the occult by his father, he's become something of an amateur paranormal investigator.

Jackie Veracruz: POV character, 21 years old, Latin (from Honduras) woman, bisexual. Jackie was inducted into ancestral magic by her grandmother after the two arrived in the United States as refugees, and she continued expanding her magical education under the tutelage of Hecate. She has a deeply academic interest in the occult, practicing magic but focusing on understanding how the spiritual realm and magic actually work.

Father Benedict de Monte: POV character, 61 years old (appears to be around 20), white man, vow of celibacy. Benedict is a Catholic priest tasked with hunting down the Brood of Nachash, a secretive cult that is threatening violence against the world's religions. He is deeply committed to his oaths and work, but is hiding his supernatural powers and aging, and especially their source, from the Vatican. He is occasionally a POV character, but the blog following him isn't actually an in-world blog he's writing; it is, instead, the evidence being compiled for a legal case, some of which includes his personal records.

Alice Templeton: POV character, 21 years old, white woman. The daughter of a rich couple in Pittsburgh, Alice is going to school for biology when she finds herself crossing paths with the supernatural and reaches out for information.

Akshainie: ~200 years old (appears to be in her early 20s), naga woman. Akshainie is a naga warrior from a plane tied to the Ravi River in Pakistan that has been tasked with hunting down the Brood of Nachash because of the negative impact they can have on human views of serpent myths. Her personal records are occasionally included in the documents of Benedict's case.

Hecate: Ancient Greek cthonic goddess, bisexual. The goddess of liminal spaces, most notably magic and undeath.

Jeremiah Matteson: 98 years old, mixed race man, apparently straight. Father of Henry Matteson and grandfather of John Matteson, son of a white woman and a river spirit wearing the appearance of a Native American man. Jeremiah has power over water and a deep anger at the human world for its hostility toward his nature.

Henry Matteson: 41 years old, mixed race man, apparently straight. Henry is the father of John Matteson and the son of Jeremiah Matteson and Elizabeth Kline (a black woman), with a deep well of occult knowledge and a largely mysterious history of dealing with it.

Rick Fielding: 22 years old, white man. Rick finds the paranormal exciting and greatly enjoys the access to it he gets as Matteson's friend.

Charles Whitman: 21 years old, white man, gay. Charles is Rick's friend who gets dragged along to paranormal investigations despite his very vocal disinterest.

Tadzio García: ~530 years old (appears to be in his early 30s), dark-skinned white man, apparently straight. Tadzio is a human that was cursed with immortality after backing out of a deal with a demon and has been seeking vengeance ever since. He's an expert swordsman and a deep well of knowledge, but secretive about himself.

Lori Berman: 20 years old, white woman. Lori finds herself connected to the supernatural through forces beyond her control and spends the rest of the story dealing with the aftermath of this encounter.

King and Queen: Avatars of the Metaphysical Realm, King presents as male and Queen presents as female. They are always seen together, and described alternately as the rulers of the Metaphysical Realm and the personifications of the Metaphysical Realm itself. If they have a birth, their disconnection from time would still make aging them functionally impossible. They sometimes appear as ravens and have a number of alternate names and titles.

Others: Daniel Matteson, Natasha Fox, and Missy Nash become significant characters once they're introduced, but they have not yet been introduced in published material (other than one mention of Daniel during a vision of the future).

"The Devil's Church," digital painting by me, highlighting a major location of the series.

Book Summaries (may contain spoilers):

Volume One: Introduces most of the main cast as well as Benedict's campaign against the Brood of Nachash. Primary drive is the aftermath of a botched exorcism carried out by Matteson and Jackie, and Hecate's sudden awareness and interest in Matteson. Cover art and story plays vaguely on the element of water.

Volume Two: Introduces Alice. Primary drive is the growing threat of the Brood of Nachash and its impact on the lives of more characters, and Matteson dealing with some significant loss. Cover art and story plays vaguely on the element of life.

Volume Three: Introduces Daniel, Missy, and Fox. Primary drive is the growing direct conflict as Jeremiah begins threatening people in Matteson's life, and many of the characters trying to settle into careers and adult life. Cover art and story plays vaguely on the element of fire.

Volume Four: Primary drive is Matteson confronting Hecate about her involvement in the problems of former volumes, and Benedict's secrets causing strife in his religious life. Cover art and story vaguely play on the element of order.

Volume Five: Primary drive is Matteson's now-blinding rage at Hecate and the fate that's been prophesied since Volume One. Cover art and story vaguely play on the element of air.

The Blind Guides: 2021 convention-exclusive short story about some World War II vets who buy overstock military motorcycles and go on a cross-country tour, but run into a spirit in the Utah desert that derails their life plans. This is the origin story of a group that is introduced in Volume Three.

Purgatory: 2022 convention-exclusive short story about a retired police officer who finds himself being tormented with his past.

If you see this, tell me about your book

Whether it's a published book, a wip, or just something you're imagining for now, I want to hear about it! Share some art, too, if you have some!

Tagging a few people who I don't think would mind, but lemme know if you don't want to be tagged in the future! Fyi, to anyone seeing this, you can always tag me <3

@valeriestorm @rosantha-tindall @kittensartswriting

[porta-decumana]

👀 …someone my muse likes, but doesn’t trust.

Oh this is going to be a bit controversial.

The answer is Merlwyb. There's quite a bit of backstory to this so buckle up because this is kind of a ride!

Kaida grew up in the Ruby Sea, her village located in an hidden underwater gorge. That specific spot was selected because the village's ancestors had suffered a lot at the hands of bandits and other ne'er-do-wells for several generations until the point where their ancestral home (on the Othardian mainland) was sacked and burned to the ground. Eventually, those Raen appealed to the water kami and were granted a home under the waves. To make a long story short, Kaida's village came about some time after this and is called Ao-no-Sato. It's considered an estranged sister village to Sui-no-Sato.

Ao-no-Sato became a center, however, for ancient artifacts to be stored at. Particularly artifacts from bygone eras, some dating several hundreds of years old and containing great powers. They were stored in the local temple and kept under heavy scrutiny by the priests and priestesses of the village. Ao-no-Sato, out of fear of someone with ill intent finding the artifacts and out of fear of being subjugated by stronger factions, kept their location hidden. But unfortunately, even the best-kept secrets can sometimes slip out and tales reached far and wide of a hidden village full of treasures. Ao-no-Sato became something of a myth to pirates and treasure-hunters.

Pirates would sometimes scour the area for signs of this treasure-filled city. And unfortunately, they would sometimes stumble across Raens that were spearfishing or exploring underwater, lending to myths about merfolk under the waves. Sometimes the pirates would try to use whatever Raens they captured to find the location of the fabled Ao-no-Sato. Other times, they would take the Raens captive with the intent to sell them or do otherwise terrible things to them.

Such a thing happened to Kaida's childhood friend, Suzume. Kaida did not witness the abduction but she heard about it from her mother. Suzume was approximately ten years old when she was taken by pirates and that led to harsher restrictions on being able to leave the village. Kaida never saw her friend again and still has no idea what happened to her. But what she was left with was a lingering distaste for pirates and piracy.

Kaida understands full well that Merlwyb (and many other Limsans) have turned over a new leaf and have sworn off their old ways. But there's still some discomfort there. She doesn't want to think Merlwyb would ever do something like kidnap a little girl from the ocean. But she remembers that grief of losing her friend.

Post-Endwalker, Kaida does launch an informal investigation as to find who took Suzume and what became of her. But since so many years have passed, the journey to find her (or what remains of her) again is sure to be quite difficult.

[selenium-drive]

Stay Gold Chapter 9: Sacrifice

TW: Death, depictions of violence

Words: 12.4k

Series rating: Explicit

The remaining twenty minute long walk to the town under the rule of the Empire was filled with uneasy silence due to the nervousness the group felt about their spur of the moment plan, and the rising anxiety Aurelia felt the longer she was held "prisoner". Though they hated to admit it, Mando and Cara knew the visible discomfort she expressed made for a very convincing display of Mando himself and Aurelia as captured enemies. True unease was difficult to fake.

They approached the gates of the city where two Stormtroopers, one of which was lounging about on his speeder bike, guarded the entrance. "I have gifts for the boss," Karga motioned to both captive hunters. Aurelia did her best to stifle her nerves and keep her head down, remembering that she was indeed on a mission of great import. She doubted anyone from the Empire would know exactly who she was based on first glance; she herself had not interfered with Imperial affairs in the past, but her striking eyes had the potential be a dead giveaway as to what her bloodline was. She couldn't remember if Nevarro was one of the many planets her father had visited and included in his stories of victories against the Empire. If any of these Troopers stationed in this town had ever gone up against him, surely they wouldn't of even been kept alive to tell the tale. Still, word travels fast, especially when it comes to a problem that has to be dealt with. Her father and his crew had many, many enemies. It wouldn't surprise her if the warlord client once heard of a rebel Kage that used to meddle in their work. If that were the case, perhaps he would be able to recognize his daughter. After all, how many Kage lived outside the caves of Quarzite? Not many.

The Trooper posted at the gate scanned Karga's chain code and walked with them down the dusty streets crawling with even more Imperial soldiers. Both Cara and Aurelia couldn't help the burning hatred for such pests. It took all the self-discipline they had not to start picking off the mindless troops right then and there.

"You said four," Cara whispered harshly, her eyes darting from helmet to helmet of each enemy soldiers that passed by. "There are more than four Troopers."

"Four guarding the client," Karga fired back. "There are many more here in town. Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safe house."

"You did what?" Aurelia elbowed the Mandalorian walking alongside her.

"I told you before," he whispered, stooping down more to her level, "I wasn't proud that I took a job from an Imp. That, and they wanted to hurt the kid."

They turned into an alleyway, the sudden change from the wider, open street to a more private, closed off space making Aurelia more anxious than before. She wouldn't put it past the Stormtrooper guiding them to turn around and execute them here on the spot. They kept walking, however, until they reached a large wooden doorway near the end of the alley.

"Here we are," Karga said, beckoning them to follow him inside. The Trooper that led them to the meeting room joined up with three others who stood guarding an elegantly dressed elderly man. The Guild leader subtly nodded towards the rest of the soldiers in the room. "You see? Four."

Karga falsified the best smile he could. "Look what I brought you, as promised," he said triumphantly to the warlord, gesturing towards the Mandalorian and company.

The client approached Mando, extending his arm out to brush the back of his hand against the cool, polished steel chest plate and helmet. "What exquisite craftsmanship. It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans." He turned his attention back to Karga. "Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?" Mando stood still; from an outsider's perspective, he would've appeared uncaring or laid back. Aurelia knew him better than that. She knew how dangerous Mando could be when he was deceptively calm. He hated the audacity of this man for thinking he could lay a putrid hand on his armor, even if he was the one who supplied the Mandalorian with the steel to craft it.

"Please sit," the client directed after eliciting a nod from Karga. "It is a shame that your people suffered so," the Imp continued, taking a seat at a nearby round table. "Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable. Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The Empire improves every system it touches. Judge by any metric. Safety. Prosperity. Trade. Opportunity. Peace..."

His rambling stopped when his eyes traced over the group seated across from him. He locked onto Aurelia, taking notice of her bright golden stare burning with anger. "Do you not agree with me, child?" He reached over Mando and Karga to brush the side of her face gingerly with his hand. Mando felt his body go rigid. If he weren't in such a vulnerable situation, he would've snapped the man's fingers in half one at a time.

Alongside him, Aurelia began to panic. Dank farrik, she knew she should've kept her eyes down. Her heart beat faster, praying to any gods out there that she wouldn't be recognized in any way. Her stubbornness and submissiveness battled with each other; she hated this man already and didn't want to back down and appear weak, but the knew the longer she looked into his own eyes, the higher the chance someone might know who she was.

"Such an odd thing, you are," he said curiously. "Yet, the hatred I feel you sending my way is the same as any other human or sentient species I've come into contact with before. You are all so blind as to what good the Empire can offer to you. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside, child. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos. The hardened stares from all of you only confirms to me that this is all you've seen, all you know as well. It's such a pity, is it not? The Empire wishes to change all of that, and now we have what we need to do it." He released his soft hold on her, Aurelia letting out a deep breath she didn't even know she was holding in once he stepped back towards The Child's bassinet. "I would like to see the baby."

"Uh...it is asleep," Karga stammered a little unconvincingly. Thankfully, the client still somehow believed him.

"We all will be quiet, just open the pram."

Cara tensed up, desperately fighting the urge to draw her blaster and kill the Imp before it was too late and their cover was blown. She looked to Karga for some kind of clue as to what the next move would be, but his wide eyed stare of his own uncertainty did nothing to provide her any consolation. As ironic as it was, a Stormtrooper happened to become their knight in shining armor. He stepped besides the client and whispered a few incomprehensible words into his ear.

"Don't think me to be rude," the elderly Imperial man apologized, "I must take this call."

He turned his back to the high-strung group still seated at at table. One of the Troopers placed a portable hologram communication pad on the bar's countertop, a bright blue glow emitting from in front of the warlord while he spoke to another unknown figure of authority.

Aurelia suppressed a flinch and almost slammed the tops of her knees into the underside of the table when she felt the outside of her knee inadvertently brushed by the back of Mando's hand when he maneuvered himself free of the confines of the bracers. She tried to suppress the blush forming on her cheeks when he slid the cuffs up onto her lap, the cool metal dragging slowly across the fabric of her pants. He reached across her lap and quickly undid her own restraints, setting both pairs of cuffs on her thighs.

"Hold these," he whispered, completely oblivious to fact of her sudden bashfulness due to his unexpected motions. "Give me the blaster," he motioned to Karga underneath the table.

"You've got one shot," he warned the bounty hunter.

Cara's short fuze was fizzling out. "This is bad. You said four."

Karga shot her a glare over his shoulder. "Well, there are more. What can I tell you?"

"Cara, my blaster," Aurelia whispered, her eyes scouring the room for any Stormtrooper who might be watching.

"Here. I'll give you everything else later," the dropper said hurriedly, slipping the small gun into Karga's hands. It traveled down the row from the Guild leader to the Mandalorian; the second it passed from Mando's leather gloves to Aurelia's fingerless gauntlets, the sound of shattering glass and rapid blaster fire erupted all throughout the common house. Mando kicked the table they were seated around over in an attempt to provide some sort of cover while they dove to the ground, crawling alongside the broken bits of glass, building wreckage, and Imperial bodies. They sought protection hugged tightly against the wall next to an elongated window where the countless shots were being fired though.

"Four Stormtroopers?" Cara shouted, knocking Karga roughly on the shoulder.

"Obviously there's more than kriffing four!" Aurelia swore angrily over the barrage of gunfire. The sudden onslaught took care of the issue of the client and the Troopers guarding him, but now there was a whole other, much worse, predicament at hand. When the dust had settled and the firing had stopped, the corned group snuck a peak out of the obliterated window behind the bar. An Imperial firing squad was the reason behind the attack, and transport vehicles full of more Troopers were joining their ranks. A few foot soldiers came flooding in from the streets, lining up with the rest and taking aim on the building Mando and the others took refuge in.

"This is bad." Cara grimaced. "Mando, we need to get out of here, now! If we get caught by them, then..." she shuddered at the thought.

He kept quiet but Aurelia could tell by the way his fingers clenched under his leather gloves that he was trying hard to map put their next move. He let out a huff and grabbed his commlink.

"Kuiil, are you back to the ship yet? Are you there? Do you copy?"

"Yes!" A strained voice came through, barely audible over the loud galloping of his blurrg.

"Are you back to the ship yet?"

"Not yet!"

"Get back to the ship and bail!" Mando exclaimed, hitting his fist up against the wall in pent up adrenaline. "Get the kid out of here. We're pinned down!"

"You have something I want," a male's voice rang out from the crowd of Stormtroopers.

"Who is this guy?" Cara motioned to an unseen figure outside the window. Mando paid her no attention. He tried speaking through the commlink once more.

"Kuiil, are you back to the ship yet? They're on to us. Kuiil, come in!" The growing sense of urgency in his voice made Aurelia start to panic. She tried to control her thoughts from assuming the absolute worse.

"Kuiil, do you copy?! Kuiil!"

Cara picked up on her growing level of anxiety. "He's fine," Cara attempted to reassure her. "He's probably boarding the ship right now. Just give him another minute and you'll see."

"Kuiil... Are you there?!"

"Yes, yes give him...give him a minute," Aurelia repeated uneasily.

"Come in, Kuiil! Kuiil, come in!" Mando glanced knowingly at her. He didn't have to say what either of them were thinking. Surprisingly, the non-existent expression that was still somehow evident through his helmet gave her the answer she didn't want to hear most of all.

"No, no give him a second! He just needs a second. He's fine! He's okay! They're okay!" Aurelia cried out. Her hands began to tremble and her eyes watered the more she felt the Mandalorian look on her with pity. Finally, he dropped his hand that was holding the commlink.

"No no no no! DON'T. DON'T!" Aurelia scrambled away from the bounty hunter when he slowly bent down and reached one hand out to hold her in place. "DON'T. TOUCH ME. NO! YOU CALL HIM AGAIN."

"Stop it! Dank farrik, pull it together!" Mando shot his hands forward and gripped both of her wrists tightly. He snatched her up, bringing her face closer to his helmet and shook her firmly. "We don't know what happened, but you have to focus on what's happening right here, right now."

The look of both terror and utter devastation broke the Mandalorian's spirit. He frowned heavily, hoping he didn't further upset her any. The only thing he could think of to do at that moment was place his hand gently on the top of her head. "Breathe, ad'ika. Just...breathe."

A small tear managed to escape from out over her lash line. It trailed down what small portion of skin she had exposed beneath her eyes, then absorbed into the cotton threads of her scarf. "He's dead, Mando."

"We don't know that for certain," he told her, his voice trying to sound soothing despite the blaring uncertainty seeping through. "We have to get out of here, then we'll find them. But first, I need you to focus."

"Is there another way out?" Cara asked.

Karga shook his head. "No, that's it."

"What about the sewers?" Mando asked, hoisting Aurelia up to her feet. Karga shrugged and looked at him unknowingly, leaving Mando to further elaborate. "The Mandalorians have a covert down in the sewers. If we can get down there, they can help us escape. Is there an entrance to them in here somewhere?"

"Guys, something's happening outside," Aurelia said shakily.

Cara peaked her head around the side of the window, her breathing intensifying and her mouth hanging wide open when she saw a team of Troopers assembling a massive firearm. It was something she recognized from her days of military service, and she knew it didn't mean good news for herself or her comrades.

"They're setting up an E-Web."

Karga backed against the wall I'm disbelief at the fate that was about to befall those in the common house. His legs threatened to give out from the sudden wave of grief that washed over him. "It's over," he whispered in defeat.

"Not yet," Mando pointed towards a bench situated up against a nearby wall. "I found the sewer vent."

"Then let's get the hell outta here," Cara ordered.

Everyone grabbed the corners of the bench, pushing and pulling it back to reveal a heavy, iron vent securely fastened in place. In a profound sense of urgency and desperate for a means of an escape, Cara fired her blaster in an attempt to weaken the bolted on metal bearings securing the grate to the wall. The thick metal remained securely in place, seemingly untouched.

"It's not working! We need something else!" She cried out in frustration.

"Hang on, move out of the way." Aurelia pushed past her and fired both of her grappling hooks in-between the cracks of the vent. The hooks opened up, securing themselves in place on the other side of the grate. "I'll pull, you fire. Maybe we can loosen it."

Cara shook her head in protest. "Those aren't going to be sturdy enough. They're just going to snap!"

"No, they won't," Mando spoke up. "It's beskar. It can take it."

He crept up behind Aurelia, admiring the polished silver cables and hooks coming out from her gauntlets. "You still never told me where you got those from," Mando said from over her shoulder. "Beskar steel belongs to the Mandalorians."

She chuckled darkly and widened her stance, preparing to put all of her strength into pulling back against the bolted in screws that separated the crew from freedom. "That's another story for another day, if we survive this one, that is."

Cara shot her blaster along the edges of the vent, hoping that in all the barrage of rounds she was firing off, maybe at least a few would weaken the integrity of the solid metal that prevented their escape. "It's not...working!" She shouted over the repetitive blasts.

Aurelia pulled back harder, cursing her lack of strength. Her wrists felt like they were going to snap and her forearms heavily ached from the cables pulling against her skin and muscles.

Mando stepped directly behind her and proceeded to wrap the beskar infused wiring around his own arm braces. The sudden, unexpected body contact caused Aurelia to lurch forward slightly, stopping her efforts of pulling against the grate.

"Keep going, ad'ika," Mando grunted, yanking back hard on the grappling hook's wires back in additional support. The sturdy cables and hooks withheld under the strength of their combined effort to pry the grate from the wall; the vent creaked and groaned under pressure but still held tight in place.

Cara set down her firearm in defeat after a few more passing moments of no success. "That's it," she said breathlessly. "It's over."

"Your astute panic suggests that you understand your situation," a male voice smugly spoke up from outside in the plaza. Aurelia detached herself hooks from the grate, her exhausted arms loosely hanging at her side. She turned her attention to the stranger addressing them, noticing a menacing looking military official standing in front of the rows of Imperial soldiers. "I would prefer to avoid any further violence, and encourage a moment of consideration," he continued. "Members of my escort have completed assembly of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster. If you are unfamiliar with this weapon, I am sure that Republican Shock Trooper Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan will advise you that she has witnessed many of her ranks vaporize mid-descent facing the predecessor of this particular model."

Cara stumbled back, clearly shaken by the knowledge the man standing on the other side of wall possessed. "H-how does he know-"

"Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships outfitted with similar ordinance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in The Night of a Thousand Tears."

"Don't think I overlooked you, Aurelia Vandorack," Moff Gideon continued proudly. She shot a worried expression towards Mando, panic beginning to set once she heard her full name. "I know of the crimes that your father, Kodo Vandorack, and his pathetic cluster of rebellious abominations, committed against the Empire in its glory days. You might think that the many years of servitude you've experienced at the hands of Tattooine bandit, Darro Obrik, was enough torment, but wait until you see what I have in store for you. You'll wish you were on Quarzite, being slowly crushed in weight of its uninhabitable atmosphere, regretting the day you sided with these people."

"Don't listen to him," Mando warned her. "He's trying to get in your head. He plays mind games, Aurelia. Don't let him win."

"I advise disgraced Magistrate Greef Karga to search the wisdom of his years and urge you to lay down your arms and come outside. The structure you are trapped in will be razed in short order and your storied lives will come to an unceremonious end."

"What do you propose?" Karga sputtered to the man seemingly in charge.

"Reasonable negotiation."

"What assurance do you offer?"

"If you're asking if you can trust me...you cannot," Moff Gideon said flatly. "Just as you betrayed our business arrangement, I would gladly break any promise and watch you die at my hand. The assurance I give is this: I will act in my own self-interest, which at this time involves your cooperation and benefit. I will give you until nightfall, and then I will have the E-Web cannon open fire."

"I don't trust him," Aurelia told the others. "He'll fire on us whenever he choses. I don't believe this man to be generous enough to give us more than a few hours and risk us coming up with a decision or plan an escape."

"This isn't just anyone. I know who he is," Mando spoke up. "It's Moff Gideon."

"No. Moff Gideon was executed for war crimes," Karga disagreed.

Mando shook his head. "It's him. He knew my name."

"So? What does that prove?"

"I haven't heard that name spoken since I was a child."

"On Mandalore?" Karga questioned further.

"I was not born on Mandalore."

"But you're a Mandalorian."

"Mandalorian isn't a race," Cara interjected.

"It's a Creed," Mando explained. "I was a foundling. They raised me in the Fighting Corps. I was treated as one of their own. When I came of age, I was sworn to the Creed. The only record of my family name was in the registers of Mandalore. Moff Gideon was an ISB Officer during the purge. That's how I know it's him. He says he needs us, which means The Child got away safely. I was worried when the Ugnaught didn't respond, but if they'd captured the kid, we'd already be dead."

"Maybe Kuill's fine after all," Cara tried to tell Aurelia comfortingly. "Mando, hail them again."

He nodded and brought the commlink to his helmet. "Come in, Kuii." They waited on edge for several seconds but got nothing back but the crackling sound of static.

"They might have jammed the link," Cara noted at the lack of response.

"Kuiil has been terminated," IG's robotic voice broke through the other side of the commlink.

"What did you do?" Mando growled. His eyes shifted under the cover of his visor to scope out Aurelia's reaction. Her stare remained fixed on the rocky debris beneath their feet, completely numb at the news. She had known all along. Even if she tried to convince herself otherwise, she wouldn't of believed anything different.

"I am fulfilling my base function," IG spoke up once more in reply to the Mandalorian.

"Which is?"

"To nurse and protect."

The distant shouts and gunfire of Stormtroopers in combat caused everyone within the vicinity to turn their attention towards the winding street leading to the plaza where the Troopers were stationed.

"Look!" Cara pointed. The intense stillness outside of the common house quickly erupted into a scene of all out war. A speeder bike launched itself into a crowd of several Troopers, smashing them against the walls of surrounding buildings and streets of Nevarro. The IG unit Kuill had reconstructed emerged from besides the wreckage, The Child strapped securely on its back, giggling maniacally and completely unaware of the magnitude of danger it was in.

It took everything Mando had not to run outside and grab The Child from out of harms way. He knew doing such a thing would be a suicide mission. There was no other choice but to fight at this point.

"I need you, Aurelia, a'dika," Mando pleaded quietly but firmly. He tore his gaze from the IG unit currently taking on the vast sea of Troopers to stare at the woman next to him. "I can't do this without you."

"I know," Aurelia smiled sadly. "I let Kuiil down and I'm not letting you or the kid down either." She quickly took her daggers and rifle from Cara who had been holding onto them since they first arrived into town.

Mando darted out from the safety of the building and began taking on the countless number of enemy soldiers gathered in the plaza. Karga and Aurelia followed him closely with their blasters drawn, taking aim on whoever they could. A handful of Stormtroopers rushed the entrance of the building all but Cara had emerged from. One set off a grenade, blasting the door down and creating a gaping hole in the exterior for more Imperial soldiers to rush through.

"Cara!" Aurelia called out after the debris had settled.

"I'm okay!" The dropper coughed violently from inside the building. The sound of continuous blaster fire and the screams of fallen enemy Troopers put Aurelia more at ease knowing the female veteran inside was fully capable of taking care of herself.

"There's too many!" She shouted, throwing one of her daggers into the chest plate of an advancing Stormtrooper. When she heard the fast approaching footsteps of another trying to strike her from behind, she combined the ends of her daggers and twisted, causing the other to jut out and pierce the chest of other soldier trying to sneak up on her.

"Take them out from above! I have an idea!" Mando called out to her, after taking a split second to admire her Stormtrooper shish kebab.

"Cover me!" Aurelia separated the blades and slid them back alongside her waist, then fired her grappling hook into the edge of the stone rooftop belonging to the common room they sought shelter in. She grappled upwards, both Mando and Karga taking out those who tried to shoot her down in the process. When she made it to the top and took cover behind some of the stone on the rooftop, she pulled her rifle from behind her back. From her peripheral vision, she saw Mando make a break for the E-Web cannon stationed untouched in the center of all the chaos. It was then she understood what he wanted her to do. She took out the nearby Troopers who swarmed around the cannon and stood in Mando's way. He dodged their shots in an attempt to stop him from using their detrimental weapon to his own advantage, thanking the stars his armor was able to safely deflect what rounds he couldn't avoid. Karga and Aurelia provided enough support for him to reach the massive heavy repeating blaster. Her feeling of victory watching the Mandalorian rain down on the Stormtroopers was short lived when two blaster rifle rounds grazed the side of her arms, causing her to fall back and yelp in pain at the sharp burning sensation that stretched along her marred skin. Mando shifted his focus to the Stormtrooper that took aim on his pilot, not paying attention to Moff Gideon who crept up from behind and fired a shot directly into his helmet. Aurelia scrambled to her crouched position, trying to avoid the situation from getting any worse. A few more Troopers blasted the corner of the roof she was taking cover behind, ceasing her aid towards her comrades down below. She tilted her head around the corner to watch helplessly as Mando stabilized himself enough to put Gideon in his line of fire next. The Imp prepared to take aim at the bounty hunter but his eyes shifted last minute to a large metallic box a foot away from where the Mandalorian stood.

"Mando! No!" Aurelia shouted from the rooftop above. Moff Gideon fired a single shot into the E-Web power unit, setting off a massive fireball explosion directly in front of the hunter. The force from the blast was enough to knock the sturdy Mandalorian clean off his feet and fling the cannon out of his hands. Both weapon and wielder landed on the ground with a loud, sickening clang. Karga dragged himself up the wall he had been thrust face first into from the resonating force of the explosion. He turned and fired at the incoming wave of Troopers who managed to survive Mando's onslaught, providing cover for Cara when she emerged from inside the common house to drag Mando's limp body inside. Aurelia dropped down beside them and used her grappling hooks to wrap around Mando's arms to help pull him to safety faster. She detached herself from him when they were inside behind the cover of the bar, Cara busy triaging the downed bounty hunter while Karga and Aurelia continued to take down what Troopers they could from the view of the window. IG had taken it upon itself to laser around the edges of the sewer grate, giving the group one last chance at escaping.

"Mando, I need to take this off," Cara pleaded. She reached up to rest her hands on both sides of his helmet, pausing and letting out a sharp gasp when her fingers met the slickness of his blood that had begun to slowly drip from out underneath his armor. She opened her mouth to speak but struggled to get anything to come out. She cleared her throat and tried to hide the way her voice was on the verge of breaking. "A-Aurelia!"

Aurelia's shattered heart further crumbled at the unmistakable sense of helplessness in Cara's tone. No, absolutely not. She wasn't going through this again. She hung her rifle back on the strap crossing over her chest and ran to wounded the Mandalorian, paying no attention to the rubble and broken bits of glass embedding themselves in her knees when she slid across the floor to his side. Mando gingerly placed his hands over hers, stopping her in her tracks when she placed her palms on the sides of his helmet.

"You have to make sure The Child is safe." He said weakly.

"Mando, no," she began to beg. "We're not going to leave you here. Please, please don't do this to me. Don't make me go through this twice in one day. We have to take this off, right Cara? Then we can help you."

"Please," he pleaded softly. "Just...just listen to me for once. You of all people should kn-know the importance of hiding yourself-"

Aurelia angrily yanked her hands free out from under his. She grabbed the black fabric twirled around her face and neck, ripping it off and throwing it across his chest.

"I hate it when you throw that shit in my face," she said venomously.

The beaten down Mandalorian couldn't come up with a well thought out response. He was too busy scanning over every inch of her face, his heart heavy that she revealed herself for him out of a defiant act of desperation. Maker, she was about to hate him forever.

Mando pulled off his necklace and placed it into the hand of the beautifully flawed woman crouched over him. "When you get to the Mandalorian covert, you show them that." She started to protest but he cut her off completely. "You tell them it's from Din...Djarin. You tell them the foundling was in my protection, and they'll help you."

He closed his eyes tight, praying desperately hard to the Maker and all the stars in the galaxy that he could somehow drown out her screams. "I'm not gonna make it, mesh'la, " he whispered, "and you know it."

Another fiery explosion blasted through the window. He kept talking over all the noise, raising his voice as much as his body would allow. "You protect The Child. I can hold them back long enough for you to escape. Let me have a warrior's death."

"MANDO!"

He paused for a minute, trying to push away the heaviness that weighed his weakened body down. The IG unit kicked in the vent grate just as a cluster of Stormtroopers rushed in. The Child crept forth, holding off the burning flames erupting from an enemy flame thrower. The foundling pushed the Troopers back through the doorway, giving everyone just enough time to flee. The droid scooped up the now exhausted child, shoving him into Aurelia's hands to distract her from the Mandalorian she was leaving behind. She was silent, tearfully looking over at the broken bounty hunter as she clutched his son tight.

"This is the Way," Mando reassured her.

"Come on! It's open, let's go!" Karga motioned for Cara and the others to follow him into the sewers. "We have to move. Now!"

"Go," Mando gasped one last time.

"Escape and protect this child," IG commanded to Aurelia. "I will stay with the Mandalorian."

"Promise me you'll bring him," Cara muttered just so the droid would hear.

"You have my word."

She stared hard at the droid and took off, wrapping an arm around Aurelia to get the stunned Kage woman to advance into the tunnels. "He's going to be fine," Cara tried to convince both herself and the pilot.

The trio continued through the vent until they reached what appeared to be the sewer system the Mandalorian was referring to. A few tunnels branched off from the starting point they had been led to, causing more of a headache rather than any relief that they might of finally been safe. They kept walking down the main walkway to see where it would take them rather than get themselves lost in any of the numerous corridors.

"Aurelia, isn't it?" Karga asked suddenly, eliciting a raised eyebrow in response from the younger woman. "That's your name?"

"Karga..." Cara warned in a low tone.

"What? We were never properly introduced."

"You decide to bring this up now?" The dropper snapped.

"Yes, it is," the raven haired woman answered before the bickering could continue. The hoarseness in her throat was still painstakingly evident from the tears she shed minutes ago.

"Well...I'm sorry for your losses today, Aurelia," he sympathized wholeheartedly.

"Karga!"

"What?!"

"Shhh! Do you hear that?" Aurelia silenced them. They listened closely, the sounds of approaching footsteps becoming more apparent.

The glow belonging to a bight head light bobbed down the sewer walkway several feet behind them. Looking past the white glow, they could make out the familiar looking beskar helmet the flashlight was fixed to. Aurelia's stomach flipped when she saw the weakened silhouette of Mando staggering towards them, barely being held up properly by IG's lanky robotic form. Both Karga and Cara let out heavy sighs of relief and rushed to Mando's side, happy that the droid managed to keep its promise.

"I got him, IG, thank you," Cara told the droid, taking on the weight of the Mandalorian.

"Of course. It is my duty to serve and protect. And Miss Aurelia, I believe this is yours." The IG unit turned to face her once its arms were free. It stiffly extended one claw outwards, releasing its grasp on the scarf she wore but left behind with then the dying bounty hunter. "Do with it as you wish. From my perspective, I do not believe you should be wearing it at all."

"Thank you," she told it somberly. Cara glanced nervously at Mando who was too focused on watching Aurelia secure the black cloth in its usual position. He had noticed that she said nothing to him since the droid brought him back to the others. Honestly, he wasn't sure what kind of reaction his reappearance would elicit from her. He was relieved to see everyone again, even Karga at this point. They still weren't out of danger yet and had to keep a level head in order to get to safety. Why then, was his heart heavier than the beskar he wore when his pilot completely ignored him?

"Do you know which way to go?" Karga asked, trying to redirect everyone's attention to the task at hand.

Mando tried to shake his head but the sudden wave of dizziness stopped him from doing so. "No. I don't know these tunnels. I've only entered from the bazaar. The Imps will catch us before we make it to the ship. We need to find the  Mandalorians so they can escort us to safety."

They wandered aimlessly around the various tunnels, their lack of progress of advancing forwards having themselves wondering if they were backtracking periodically and going in circles.

"This place is a maze," Cara groaned in frustration. She had seen the same rock multiple times now, she knew she had.

Mando rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight back and forth. He had several injuries he sustained from the explosion hadn't been tended to by the IG unit; he could feel patches of dried blood on various parts of his chest, arms, and legs sticking to the inside of flight suit. His head was ringing significantly less and his vertigo had subsided considerably, but no amount of bacta the droid had on him could make the dull, aching, throb that was still present, go away completely. He wouldn't be able to sit down and recover until after the mission was completed entirely, but he was getting fed up with having to be dragged along like a giant burden. "Stop," he told Cara, pulling some of his weight off her and to his own two feet. "I can stand. I have to do something. I'll...I'll try to find tracks that will lead us to the others."

He stumbled around for a minute trying to steady himself, his head tilted low towards the ground and scanning over his surroundings slowly under the tracking settings of his visor. A set of footsteps not belonging to anyone else in the group caught his attention. They ventured further down the tunnels and around one of the corners, possibly leading them to the rest of his covert. Mando motioned for his companions to follow him, his heart beating faster through his armor when the heat signatures became more prominent and fresh looking, signifying that they were closing in on whoever left them behind.

"We're close. Turn here."

The sight that befell the Mandalorian's eyes was enough to make his newly regained strength be sucked completely out from him.

"Oh no," Cara grimaced under her breath once the realization dawned on her as to what exactly they were seeing. In the middle of the walkway lay a pile of worn Mandalorian armor, mostly consisting of forsaken helmets that were apparently left behind by the others. A few busted up pauldrons, thigh coverings, and chest plates were scattered about the ground as well, but to remove one's helmet, according to the Mandalorian creed, meant there was no going back to one's old way. Deserting the armor that was held to such high regards by its wearer meant that Mando's covert had given up their entire way of life.

The lone Mandalorian dropped to his knees in anguish in front of the collection of beskar and metal. Even though almost every square inch of his body was covered, the obscene amount of pain, anger, and confusion he was feeling was still apparent to everyone.

"Mando?" Aurelia spoke up timidly. She still had her strong opinions about how she felt towards him when he had her ripped away from his side as he lay dying, but as hurt as she was, she still couldn't find it in herself to not console her partner.

She approached him slowly, noticing how tense his broad shoulders were, how low he hung his head, and how stiff all the muscles in his arms were. In the few months she had spent with the Mandalorian, she had to learn both his subtle and very obvious changes in his body language to understand what he was feeling at any given time. He was good at masking most emotions in his voice, especially thanks to the vocoder embedded in his helmet, although his occasional frustrated sighs and tones of annoyance still slipped past the beskar from time to time. When his stance was rigid and statuesque, she knew better than to push his buttons or come at him too quickly. The way he looked to her now, well, confronting him would be like poking an angry rancor with a stick. Still, she couldn't bring herself not to try.

"Mando?" Aurelia repeated once more, this time a bit more assertively. He paid her no mind, even when she stood directly over his huddled form. It was only when the tips of her slender fingers brushed against the cape secured around his neck, did he flinch sharply at her touch and stare up at her.

Since IG brought him back to the others, she hadn't once looked his way. He knew he had upset her and caused her emotional grief for practically nothing. She wouldn't outright admit it, but she was far from okay after the passing of Kuiil. The moisture farmer was like a second father figure to her. He was undoubtedly the most important person in her life. Mando wasn't sure how she felt about himself personally, but he safety assumed they had a good friendship developing. She was still timid at times, but they still trusted one another for the most part. Mando knew he crushed what relationship was developing between them the second he had Cara rip her away from his side. He obliterated their trust into millions of pieces of stardust. The pain he felt from seeing the abandoned armor of his people, only deepened when he looked up at Aurelia. He was grateful she had finally acknowledged him, but he felt so unworthy of the concern and honey glow of warmth she had in her deep golden eyes. The fact that she touched him sent his emotions into overdrive. He had no problem touching her when the moment called for it. He made physical contact with a lot of people, though a lot of it wasn't necessarily friendly. It was receiving, though, that he was far from used to. The first time she initiated true physical contact, was when she would clean his wounds. It was a little strange and unfamiliar at first but he didn't mind it. He deemed it viable and there was no meaning behind her touch. This most recent time, however, when he felt her fingertips leave nervous, feather light tracings across his scarred bronze skin, was something new to him. He wouldn't dare tell her that he could still feel her hands ghosting over his back for hours after he put his clothing back on. The gentle feeling of her hand she placed near the base of his neck just now, only reminded him of that surprisingly intimate moment they shared.

Cara cleared her throat to remind the others that despite the unfortunate circumstances at hand, time was of the essence. "We should go," she tried to persuade the rest of the group.

"You go," Mando said monotonously. "Take the ship. I can't leave it this way."

His attention suddenly honed in strictly on Karga. He shot up to his knees, Aurelia stumbling backwards from surprise at his sudden movement.

"Did you know about this?" Mando asked threateningly, swooping in on the Guild leader. "Is this the work of your bounty hunters?"

"What? No!" he cried out. His eyes frantically darted between Cara, Aurelia, and the IG unit watching helplessly on the sidelines. No way were they getting in the middle of the Mandalorian's meltdown. "When you left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended and the hunters just...melted away. You know how it is. They're mercenaries. They're not zealots."

His answer did nothing to settle Mando's dangerous outburst. Aurelia felt herself shrink to the side the more Mando's fury unleashed itself. Never had she seen the stone cold, stoic man show his emotions on his scale.

"Did you do this?" The bounty hunter roared. His deep baritone echoed off the sewer walls, not giving a damn if it brought the Stormtroopers their way. He butted chests with Karga in a primal display of aggression when the man gave him no answer. "Did you?!"

"No!" Karga all but begged for mercy.

"It was not his fault," an unfamiliar female voice rang out behind him. The sound immediately calmed the rabid Mandalorian, his anger doused by her assertive but velvety smooth tone. "We revealed ourselves. We knew what could happen if we left the covert."

She tossed a few of the forgotten pieces of armor onto a cart. Pushing the pile she had collected, she led the travelers towards a large circular room. In the center, appeared to be an old, outdated forge.

"The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted," she gestured to the strewn out armor.

"Did any survive?" Mando asked hesitantly.

"I hope so. Some may have escaped off-world."

Mando's eyes scanned over the pile of armor knowing it was only him and the Armorer left in the covert. "Come with us."

"No," she rejected firmly. "I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains."

The Armorer tossed a few more pauldrons into the furnace's blue flames. Aurelia watched how easily the seemingly indestructible beskar caved in itself from the burning hot touch of the flames. It bubbled and melted, pooling into the familiar shining silver she knew so well. It was funny how much the properties of the steel armor he wore resembled the Mandalorian himself. Beskar was valuable and very sought after by many. It never chipped, rusted, or blemished despite all who tried to harm it. It was flawless, shining bright and forever polished to perfection. Yet, with one touch of a simple flame, the one thing it was susceptible to, it was reduced to a puddle of gleaming metal. That's all it was after all: just steel.

"Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction," the Armorer's voice commanded.

She walked up to Aurelia, eyeing her silently under the solid black glass visor of her golden Mandalorian helmet. "Is this the one? I sense much fight in her, but yet, much turmoil."

"This is the one," Mando gestured to the infant in her arms.

The Armorer averted her gaze down some, her helmet tilting in amusement at an infant being the sought after person of interest. "This is the one you hunted, then saved?"

"Yes. The one that saved me as well."

"From the mudhorn?"

"Yes."

She paused for a moment, eyes glancing over the worn out, unconscious child. "It looks helpless."

"It's injured, but it is not helpless. Its species can move objects with its mind."

"I know of such things. The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers."

Mando felt uneasy, almost too afraid to ask her to elaborate. "It is an enemy?"

"No. Its kind were enemies, but this individual is not."

The sudden pit in his stomach disappeared. He kept his sigh of relief strictly to himself. "What is it?" Mando asked.

"It is a foundling. By Creed, it is in your care."

"You wish me to train this thing?"

The Armorer shook her head. She turned her attention back to the molten beskar she had melted down in the furnace. "It is too weak; it would die. You have no choice but to reunite it with its own kind."

"You expect me to search the galaxy for the home of this creature and deliver it to a race of enemy sorcerers?" Mando felt stupid for allowing such a sentence to pass his lips. It sounded absurd, all of it. A baby with magical powers who's species just so happens to be enemies with the Mandalorians? It was a crazy, cruel twist of fate. The whole galaxy seemed to be out to get him at this point.

"This is the Way," the Armorer said casually. Aurelia was beginning to hate that saying. It seemed like an overly formal way of saying, "fuck it, that's how things are, so deal with it". She respected it because it was important to Mando. Those simple words were the foundation for his whole lifestyle. He was obviously willing to die over it, and she felt guilty that every single part of her hated that he was okay with that. They hid themselves for different reasons, but when Kuiil told her that Mando out of everyone else in the entire galaxy, should know how important it was for her to reveal herself to him, he didn't even bat an eye. It made her feel so foolish for trusting in him, but it made her even angrier with herself for being so upset about it. She hid because she was ashamed, he hid because it was his way of life. How dare she get upset over that, right? She was nothing in comparison to the importance of his creed. After all, he was willing to leave The Child, his friends, and even her over it.

No.

No, she wasn't going to dwell on it. She needed to stop this. He hired her for a job, plain and simple. Mando was nothing to her, and she was nothing to him. It's what she told everyone else, and it's what she would keep reminding herself every second if she had to because this was her way. If he was so willing to sever ties with people he "cared" about, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of begging him to come back or feeling upset when he decided to leave.

Cara nudged her out of her runaway train of thought. "Aurelia, we need to go," she muttered to raven haired woman before turning to address the rest of the group. "These tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan."

"If you follow the descending tunnel it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream toward the lava flats," the Armorer directed them.

Mando stayed put. "I'm staying. I need to help her, and I need to heal." There he was again, doing as he pleased. It was his job to come and go as he saw fit, not stay with someone for too long. Aurelia felt foolish for thinking she might of even been an exception.

"You must go," the Armorer commanded sternly. She turned her back towards the rest of the group and motioned for the Mandalorian to follow her to the edge of the furnace. "A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father. This is the Way. You have earned your Signet."

The Armorer reached back towards the furnace to collect the newest work of craftsmanship she made using the beskar from the other Mandalorian armor. Sparks flew from Mando's pauldron as his signet was fastened to the steel. The Armorer stepped back to reveal her handiwork; the silhouette of a mudhorn.

"You are a clan of two," she nodded towards Mando and The Child.

"Thank you. I will wear this with honor."

A few loud explosions detonating nearby startled the group. The yells of Imperial soldiers could faintly be heard off in the distance, signaling that the tunnels were soon to be overrun with enemy forces.

"IG, please guard the outer hallway. A scouting party draws near," the Armorer requested. "I have one more gift for your journey. Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?"

Mando looked at her with awe under his helmet. "When I was a boy, yes."

"Then this," she began, reaching behind her to grab a jetpack, "will make you complete."

Mando took the heavy device from her hands, a strong sense of pride stirring in his chest at the sight of being awarded with such an honor. "Thank you," he exhaled breathlessly.

The other Mandalorian eyed him carefully. "When you have healed, you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.

"I understand."

A few grunts and the chaotic sounds of blasters firing out in the corridor followed. It was quiet for a moment, then IG rounded the corner stoically.

"You are protected," he told the others.

The Armorer nodded in response then turned to face Mando. "More will come. You must go."

"Come with us," he tried to bargain once more.

"My place is here," she answered undeterred by his persuasive efforts. "Restock your munitions. IG, carry this jetpack for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it. Now, go! Down to the river and across the plains. Be safe on your journey."

___________________________________________

They approached an underground lava river, the sweltering sulfuric air making it difficult to breathe in the enclosed tunnel. A few rodents that blended in with the charred rocky landscape scuttled past their feet in a hurry. Aurelia followed their movements, her eyes catching what appeared to be a ferry at the base of the ledge they were standing on. The poor droid that had been given the unfortunate task of operating the boat, didn't appear to be functional in the blistering environmental conditions. In fact, it appeared the ferry hadn't been operated for quite some time. Dried chunks of cooled magma stick to the edges of the boat, securing it to the wall it floated up against it. Mando tried unsuccessfully to pry the rocks loose with the droid's oar, his lack of success further adding to his growing frustration.

"You guys mind getting out of the way?" Cara pushed past him. She took aim at the edge of the boat, blasting away at the hardened rock. Everyone piled on the ferry in a hurry when it began to sway on the surface of the lava, finally freed from the ledge. The sudden movement of the boat making its way downstream brought the tall ferry guide droid to life. Still on edge, the group aimed their blasters defensively at the poor thing simply trying to do its job. It made a few beeps and whistles, translated by IG as it wanting to know where to take the travelers.

"Down river, to the lava flat," Karga instructed. The droid beeped in acknowledgement, humming a happy, high pitched tune to itself as it steered mindlessly through the scorching river. Had their lives not been at stake by the countless Troopers hunting them down, it would've almost almost a peaceful, and much needed, relaxing moment for everyone. Aurelia and Cara leaned back against the edge of the raft, happy to be able to rest for just a moment while they had time to. The orange glow radiating from the lava stream bounced off nearby rocks, creating a  mesmerizing sight during the slow trip down river. The warm blanket of heat lingering in the air along with the droid's singing made Aurelia's eyes heavier the longer they floated on. As if on que, Karga directed everyone's attention to the bright white glow at the end of the tunnel.

"That's it. We're free!"

Something didn't sit right with Mando; this was far too easy of an escape. He stared down the remainder of the tunnel through his life form scanner of his helmet, picking up on multiple heat signatures clustered around both sides of the exit.

"No, we're not," he warned. "Stormtroopers. They're flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we're coming."

"What do we do now?" Aurelia asked. "I mean, I could try to grapple past them, maybe get their attention-"

"Absolutely not." Mando growled.

"That's not really your call to make, is it?" She fired at the bounty hunter.

"It's suicide. I'm not letting you do something that stupid, especially after Kuiil gave me the task of looking out for you."

"Don't you dare bring him into this," she spat venomously, jamming a finger into his chest plate. "And I'm not another job for you to do, Mandalorian."

The sound of a blaster going off turned their attention to a smoking, headless ferry droid. Cara holstered her weapon, the others looking at her in confusion. "He wouldn't stop the boat," she said her defense.

Karga threw up his hands in exasperation. "Well we're still moving!"

"There are too many to fight," Mando insisted, still not tearing his eyes away from his heated crew member.

The IG unit stepped forward. "They will not be satisfied with anything less than The Child. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy, and you will escape."

"You don't have that kind of firepower, pal," Mando countered looking the droid's way. "You wouldn't even get to daylight."

"That is not my objective. I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct."

"What are you talking about?" Mando asked, even though from his first initial run in with the bounty droid, he knew exactly what protocol IG was referring to. It had threatened to use it on numerous occasions when it seemed as though both Mandalorian and droid were heavily outnumbered by enemies during the initial search and rescue mission for The Child.

"I'm not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed," IG clarified. "I can no longer carry this for you," it said setting the jetpack down at its feet, "nor can I watch over The Child. Miss Aurelia, it is your responsibility to do so for the remainder of the mission."

"Wait. You can't self-destruct," Mando tried to reason. "Your base command is to watch The Child. That supersedes your manufacturer's protocol, right?"

IG paused thoughtfully for a moment. "This is correct."

"Good. Now grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out."

"Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The Child will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where both The Child and Miss Aurelia remain safe, in which I survive. We both have fulfillments that we must see through. Just how you wanted to sacrifice yourself for the safety of your friends, I must do the same."

That hit Mando. Hard. He didn't want to die. This wasn't some kamikaze mission where he didn't care what happened to him. The IG unit had a choice in the matter and it needed to understand self-sacrifice wasn't the only way.

"Listen, you're not going anywhere," Mando pleaded, trying hard to hide the desperation in his voice. "We need you. Let's just come with a-"

"Please tell me the child will be safe in your care," IG interrupted. "If you do so, I can default to my secondary command."

"But you'll be destroyed," the Mandalorian's voice wavered.

"And you will live, and I will have served my purpose."

"No, we need you." Mando was thankful his helmet hid his pained expression beneath the layers of tinted glass and beskar.

"There is nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive," IG said indifferently.

"I'm not...sad."

"Yes you are. I'm a nurse droid. I've analyzed your voice."

The rest of the group watched in defeat as IG gently ran the back of its clawed hand over the top of The Child's head. The last bit of human-like affection it showed made it impossible for Aurelia to watch the droid step into flowing river of lava. The way the IG unit was more human than it would care to admit only further reminded her of the Mandalorian; she didn't think either one was fully okay with dying, even if they said otherwise.

The selfless droid marched onwards until it reached the mouth of the tunnel. A bit of movement could be seen around the edges around the rocks. They could see the fidgeting of shadows coming from the Stormtroopers that were gathered along the exit, watching carefully as to what the droid's next move would be. All was still for a moment before an explosion was set off at the exit, causing Aurelia to jump at the sudden violent detonation. There were no screams or cries of pain from the Troopers; just the eerie silence that was occasionally interrupted by the sound of tiny crackling flames and settling debris that remained in the wake of IG's blast.

The boat continued to drift towards through the large dust cloud, everyone raising their weapons in case any survivors had somehow made it out unscathed. There was no sign of life whatsoever at the end of the tunnel.

Their moment of victory and relief, however, was short lived. A TIE fighter swooped in from overhead, heading straight towards the boat. Cara immediately recognized it as the one that had been right outside the common house when the Troopers had ambushed them during their meeting with the client.

"It's Moff Gideon," she spat hatefully.

When the TIE fighter honed in on their position, they knew he was getting ready to strike. Immediately when they darted out of the small boat, Moff Gideon rained down a barrage of blaster cannon fire, sending spewing chunks of hot lava, rock, and wooden debris in every direction. Mando ushered the rest of the group behind a small gathering of rocks in a desperate attempt to take some kind of cover knowing they wouldn't be so lucky the during the next aerial strike.

"What are you doing?!" Cara exclaimed, turning Karga and Aurelia's attention from the incoming TIE fighter to the Mandalorian.

"I have an idea, just...stay here and take cover," he told her. Mando secured the jetpack that was bestowed upon him by the Armorer on his back. He grit his teeth under the new weight of heavy beskar that was added to his exhausted muscles. He only had one shot at this, and even he had to admit it wasn't his most well thought out plan. The safety of The Child was his top priority. That, and Aurelia's too. He glanced down at the smaller woman and noticed the hint of worry in her golden stare. Mando cupped the side of her face carefully, his heart faltering when he saw the way she fought with herself about whether or not to pull away from his touch. Pushing his own emotions to the back of his mind, he had to remind himself of the task at hand.

He didn't say anything else but instead fired up the Rising Phoenix. The sudden jolt upwards elicited a few painful grunts from the bounty hunter due to his head whipping around from the intense force of the jetpack. Mando struggled to maneuver himself properly but eventually managed to follow the path of the TIE fighter and give pursuit to an unsuspecting Moff Gideon. He shot himself forward a bit more and latched onto the top of the starfighter. From the ground, the others couldn't do anything but helplessly watch the tense scene of Mando being bucked around by Gideon. The TIE fighter weaved in and out of the thick covering of clouds, causing them to lose sight of the Mandalorian for a few passing moments. Karga nudged the two others when a bright, metallic shimmer caught his eye; Mando was falling back to the surface of Nevarro. A loud explosion permeated through the atmosphere, ripping their focus on the bounty hunter to the giant fireball that erupted above him. The TIE fighter disintegrated in a massive explosion, large portions of the ship splitting off and crashing hard into the landscape around them.

Mando recovered himself before he got too close to the ground, making a shaky landing next to the mouth of the tunnel they came out of.

Karga let out a boisterous laugh upon approaching the bounty hunter. "That was impressive, Mando," the Guild leader cheered. "Very impressive. It looks like your Guild rates have just gone up."

"Any more Stormtroopers?" Mando asked, completely unfazed by his one on one fight with a TIE fighter.

Cara shook her head. "I think we cleaned up the town. I'm thinking of staying around just to be sure."

"You're staying here?" He asked in slight disbelief.

"Well, why not?" Karga frowned. "Nevarro is a very fine planet. And now that the scum and villainy have been washed away, it's very respectable again.

Karga grinned and let out a soft chuckle. "Some of my favorite people are bounty hunters." He motioned to Cara. "Perhaps, this specimen of soldier might consider joining our ranks."

The dropper looked over the landscape thoughtfully. "Yeah, I've got some clerical concerns regarding my chain code."

"If you would agree to become my enforcer, clerical concerns would be the least of your worries. But you, my friend," Karga said sharing a finger at Mando, "you will be welcome back into the Guild with open arms. So, go off, enjoy yourself. And when you're ready to return, you will have the pick of all quarries."

The Mandalorian tilted his helmet towards the little foundling that clung tightly to his leg. He let out a sigh then reached down to scoop up the infant. "I'm afraid I have more pressing matters at hand."

Cara approached the father and son pair. She smiled down at the mischievous child, stroking one of it long ears in between her fingertips lovingly while it cooed. "Take care of this little one, and Aurelia too."

Karga placed a hand on the pilot's shoulder, his eyes looking into hers bidding her a silent goodbye. "Or maybe...they'll take care of you."

Mando passed The Child to Aurelia, a sigh of relief threatening to pass his lips when he saw the warmth return to her eyes at the sight of the infant so happy to see her. Such a feeling was short lived when Mando interrupted the sweet moment between the pair.

"Hold the kid tight," he instructed. He scooped her up, holding her tight against his chest and praying to the Maker that he would be able to control the Phoenix enough just to make it back to the ship in one piece.

The Child babbled excitedly, its mouth wide open and a few giggles escaping when they took off and flew high above the lava flats. Even Aurelia couldn't contain the corners of her smile that peeked out from underneath her scarf and the excitement that danced in her golden orbs.

___________________________________________

Mando felt her tense up in her arms when they descended upon the Razor Crest. She was happy to see the ship again, but what lay unmoving just a few feet from the entrance ramp made even Mando's heart drop.

He watched the way she tried to hide the way her legs wanted to buckle underneath her the closer she got to Kuiil's body laying at the base of the Crest. Her body finally gave out when she closed in on the last bit of space between her and the Ugnaught. The exposed fingertips of her gloved hands traced over the bottom of the scarf around her neck. She pulled it loose and down around her shoulders, the ends of the long fabric brushing up against the dry, cracked ground.

Neither she nor Mando said a word to each other while she carefully wrapped the moisture farmer up in the long strand of thick, black cloth. Mando pried his eyes from her and tried think of what he could could use to dig a small grave with and give him a proper burial.

Kuiil was the first person to show Aurelia kindness and expected nothing in return after so many years of being exposed to nothing but sadistic hatred and manipulation every single day. To die at the hands of the Empire was a cruel twist of faith that she would never be able to let herself live down. Kuill worked so hard for his freedom, in fact, he prided himself in it. His selflessness got him killed by the same people that tried to break his kind, generous spirit.

Mando laid Kuiil down gently in the bottom of the grave he had dug out near the Crest. Aurelia held tightly onto The Child who let out a few whimpers and sniffles. Though it might not of fully understood the magnitude of the situation of Kuiil's self-sacrifice, the little foundling could easily feel the sadness coming from both of his caretakers. Knowing they were hurting so made The Child feel similarly.

"Mahn valle ehin uhl Sahsahlah. Aanor il lofahchu ishiia zals. Doaba ol'val tru, min dul'skal," Aurelia spoke quietly over the Mandalorian tossing the rich volcanic dirt over her fallen friend.

Mando turned to look at her but before she allowed him any time to take in her appearance once more, she turned and headed up the ramp into the Razor Crest. He took the moment of solitude to pay his respects to Kuiil one last time, silently thanking him for his sacrifice and for putting the safety of The Child before himself.

His stomach twisted into knots when he climbed up the ladder and saw Aurelia sitting in the centermost chair starting straight ahead outside the cockpit, one of her spare long scarves tied extra securely around her neck and face.

"Where to?" Was all she said, not even bothering to turn and look back at the man staring her down.

"That was beautiful, what you said," Mando remarked in regards to her parting words to Kuiil. "I don't recognize the language, but it sounded beauti-"

"Old Corellian," Aurelia said bluntly. "It's not spoken anymore by much of anyone. My mother picked it up during her years meeting traders who passed through her cantina. She taught it to my father, and he and his soldiers used it during their missions for the sake of secrecy. Now tell me, Mando, where are we going?"

He was blindsided by the harshness of her answer. It took him a second to gather this thoughts and give her a proper plan. Truthfully, he hadn't even thought of what their next destination would be. Mando knew he wanted to take it easy for a few weeks at the very least. He needed to recuperate, as did Aurelia after the physical but more so emotional toll their visit to Nevarro had taken on her. Obviously, she wasn't in the same frame of mind she had been in since before today. She was cold, distant, and more closed off than ever before. Mando wasn't an idiot; he knew Kuill's death had a large role to play in her behavior. He couldn't be upset with her for that and he knew she needed time to grieve as did he, in his own way. He knew the straw that broke the dewback's back had to have been him almost dying on top of the loss of the Ugnaught. What he didn't understand though, was why she didn't even seem to care that he was fine after all.

"Dantooine," he spoke up when the name of the planet was the first to pop into his mind. "It's quiet. We'll lay low for a while and regroup there."

Aurelia locked herself in the refresher once the navigation had been set and she, much to her annoyance, manually determined the calculations for hyperspace. She was hoping the fact that the IG unit had ended up on the  Mandalorian's good side would provide any leverage she needed to convince him into getting an astromech droid in the distant future.

Stars, the future? She had never really thought about such a thing with Mando before. They kind of just...took one day at a time. How long was this going to go on for? They knew now there was some kind of "deadline" coming up as far as how long she would need to stick around. Now that they were actively trying to rehome the kid, well, there wouldn't be any use for her anymore once that was over. They could find these "Jedi" tomorrow, a week, or even a year from now. Absolutely nothing was certain about what was to come. Even then, how long would she be able to tolerate the complete state of emotional disarray she was in?

Aurelia turned on the water to as hot as it would allow. She let down her knotted, dirt and volcanic ash covered tresses and slowly removed each layer of clothing. She winced at how sore her fatigued muscles were from the battle on Nevarro. Her legs were tired from the constant walking and fleeing they did all day, and the burn marks from the Stormtrooper's blaster that grazed her were still raw and irritated.

A thick cloud of steam had begun to collect in the cramped washroom but she didn't mind. The overly hot shower was the only thing that felt good to her right now. She let the burning cascade of fiery water droplets wash away the dried blood and dirt off her skin. It didn't take long for her to clean herself, but she didn't want to venture out to the rest of the Crest quite yet. She was enjoying her moment of quiet, especially away from the Mandalorian. Unbeknownst to her, something caught his attention when he finished tucking The Child into the swing that hung above his cot. He felt wrong for doing so, but he brought his helmet to the refresher door when he heard Aurelia stirring inside. He wasn't expecting to hear her muffled sobs over the sound of the running shower.

Tags: @geannad

[n1ghtcrwler]

Tall Tales is urban fantasy and paranormal horror series of interconnected short stories that build toward a single plot. It's mostly written in blog format or as collected files, following four main characters. These are

John Matteson: An amateur paranormal investigator with a natural resistance to magic and ability to see and interact with the Metaphysical Realm. He draws unwanted attention from spirits due to his nature, and conflict with them produces a lot of his story.

Jackie Veracruz: A witch with a particular interest in understanding the true nature of magic and how it works. Originally trained in ancestral practices by her grandmother, she has since had Hecate take her on as a pupil. Her investigations into the unknown drive most of her story.

Father Benedict de Monte: A Catholic priest who hides his half-spirit heritage but uses the powers this grants him to deal with threats to the church or the wider world. He's been tasked by the Vatican with hunting down a dangerous cult; while his story is largely driven by this, the documents that follow him are actually a collection of evidence for a trial that hasn't happened in-story yet instead of a blog.

Alice Templeton: A biology student from a rich family who discovers that she has some connection to the supernatural that brings her into contact with Matteson and Jackie. Her story begins by being driven largely by her relationships to them, but starts to take on its own direction as she tries to understand her place in the natural and supernatural world.

There is a fifth blog on the website which is maintained by a narrator who occasionally engages with the stories they tell. The overall story centers on the way these characters cross paths and move toward a shared fate that they occasionally get hints about.

The first drafts of most of the stories from Volumes 1 & 2 are available for free on the website, and both volumes are available as self-published books. There are a couple stories from Volume 3 on the website as a teaser, and that book will hopefully be out later this year. The whole story is planned as five volumes. I also post a bunch of stuff about the story using the Tall Tales tag below!

horror writeblrs gimme a yell!!! tell me about your projects!!!!

[vulpinefrost]

When was the last time he had such a sound night of sleep? No hint of nightmares, no uncomfortable subconscious thoughts invading his rest. He was a little sore from his positioning as he slept, and likely some of his week of training still effecting him, but regardless, he was up and about with more energy than he expected. Hell, he was even helping Verr with the dinning room of the Inn.

Trying his hand at taking orders from any of the travelers who stopped by or the patrons who sat down for a meal, so he could run them to the kitchen after. Taking around a pitcher of water for any who needed refils between orders taken and orders served. Bringing orders to the tables even. It was... actually kind of nice.

Even if he could certainly feel his social reserve draining with each interaction. At least it was only for another hour now, as he was told their usual waiter was simply running late for family reasons. Then he could relax the rest of the day.

[newleafover]

2020 In Review

Fics (finished and WIP!) written this year:

Oh goodness, I have 19 fics written and posted this year not even counting the 19 Bagginshield ficlets. I’m not going to list 38 stories here, but let’s just say I wrote a bunch of Tolkien pairings, Davey havok/harry styles, Star Wars fic, merlin/Arthur, and a new femslash pairing every six weeks including will/hannibal, margot/alanna, seven/janeway, Natalie/cruz, grace/frankie, and DIS/TAURIEL, and anamaria/Elizabeth. Wow.

Takeaways from reflecting on your kick-ass writing, or kick-ass lack of writing, during a year more focused on survival than perhaps any other:

I actually learned to love a lot about my writing this year! I’ve struggled with trying to force myself to write things that were outside of what feels natural to me, but recently I’ve really embraced that writing is an artistic exercise for me and it feels good to do what feels right. I really love all my short-form femslash, my prose-poem tendencies. I have so much to say about women and it’s so rewarding to do that I don’t end up worrying about the lack of reader response. I also learned that I can track my menstruation history by looking at my femslash posting schedule lol.

In all seriousness, though, it’s been really awesome to connect with my ancestral roots and reflect own this connection I have as an lgbt person to homophobia and internalized homophobia throughout history. I used to try to sort of apologize for the fact that I’ve had an “easy” coming out/being gay experience by removing myself from characters. It’s been a beautiful experience to dissolve the wall I had between sympathy and empathy when it comes to the pain of being lgbt in This Society.

Most surprising fic you wrote this year:

Probably the FAIRY TALE about DAVEY HAVOK and HARRY STYLES being sad lesbian witches. It was such a joy to write though and I actually have a lot of feelings about it, which is surprising in and of itself.

Best thing that happened this year because you write fic:

Selfishly speaking, I did so much healing and spiritual growth through fic this year and it was incredible. 

How you grew as a writer this year:

I think most of my growth had to do with recognizing and leaning into my strengths, as described above! 

If someone’s going to read just one of your 2020 fics, which one should they read?

Um, quite possibly all we stood for, all our dreams, which is the Anakin/Obi Wan fic I had to start a whole group chat to support me through the process of. I basically spent seven months writing and rewriting it. It was so rewarding to write a 80s straight edge hardcore au and all the intricate rituals of punk. I think the writing in this is pretty good, and I think it’s pretty accessible because it’s an au. So yeah, that one. Weird.

What’s coming in 2021:

Oh, who knows. Probably a lot of Merlin femslash. I really do want to work on writing longer things too, but that’s going to need to wait until after my nervous breakdown is over. 

Thanks @shark-myths and @alienfuckeronmain for the tag! Readers, feel free to consider yourself tagged if you want!

[ravenya003]

Some chill, spiritual, life-affirming stories to read/watch while in self-isolation:

Kiki's Delivery Service (1989)

A witch in training goes to a seaside village and opens up a delivery service - that's it, that's the plot. It's so gentle, and the story just invites you to tag along with this cute little girl as she flies her broomstick around the place and gradually grows in confidence.

The Secret Garden (1993)

It's starts as a Gothic mystery and ends as a fairy tale - that’s the dream combination, guys. All set in an English manor house and extensive grounds, with beautiful cinematography and great child actors. Also, Maggie Smith.

Song of the Sea (2014)

This is the one I've been nagging you all to watch every time I post a gif-set from it. Not to overhype it or anything, but it's the perfect movie. Every character arc, every plot beat, every theme and motif plays out at exactly the right pace and in precisely the right way. Plus the animation is STUNNING.

Kubo and the Two Strings (2016)

Produced by Laika so you know it's good, this is a feast for the eyes and based on Japanese mythology and culture. A young boy wielding a magical shamisen, whose eye was mysterious stolen in his infancy, is now accompanied by a talking snow monkey on a quest to save his mother. Beautiful soundtrack, gorgeous visuals.

Moana (2016)

The best of the recent Disney films, it's big and beautiful but also has enough quiet moments to do the main character's spiritual arc justice. You've probably already seen it, but consider the chance to see: "I have crossed the horizon to find yooooooou..." again.

Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005 - 2008)

I know you've already seen this, but now's the time for an uninterrupted rewatch. The animation, the mythos, the spirit world, the character growth, the world's greatest redemption arc... There's also a ton of graphic novels that continue post-show.

She Ra (2018 - )

A bunch of princesses in pastel outfits use their considerable sparkly power to defeat bad guys on a beautifully rendered moon. It's amazing, and the whole thing has a strange, dreamy, future-tech quality that's oddly calming.

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of her Own Making by Catherynne Valente

Valente's imagination is a force of nature, and I promise you've never read anything like this before. It will TRANSPORT you to a place that combines the familiar fairytale tropes with wyverns and talking lanterns and green winds and herds of bicycles and girls made of soap. It’s Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan and Narnia and post-modernism and myth-punk rolled into one. And the best part is, there are four more books and a prequel short-story to keep you fed.

The Darkangel by Meredith Anne Pierce

If you know me you know I HATE "dark male gets redeemed by good, pure, kind female" stories... with ONE exception, and that's this book. It’s because the redemption is hard-won and the heroine’s life doesn’t revolve around his recuperation (there are other mitigating factors as well) but more to the point, this is a Beauty and the Beast tale that makes their story part of a much bigger good versus evil plot.

Winter Rose by Patricia McKillip

You could choose any book by this author and disappear into her poetic-prose, but this one is best suited for this particular list. It's basically a retelling of the Tam Lin story, in which two sisters fall in love with a stranger who returns to reclaim his ancestral home, only for strange occurrences to follow in his wake. It’s strange and dreamy, told with dense prose and filled with symbolism, and carries an underlying message of self-awareness and recovery.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

Our narrator returns to his home for a funeral and recalls scenes from his childhood, in which the three strange women living at Hempstock assisted him in the fight against a malevolent enemy. He captures what it was like to be a child – the wonder as well as the powerlessness, and how you deal with problems both mundane and supernatural, with plenty of his usual borrowing from fairytale traditions. (Classic Gaiman, basically).

[viviae]

For the 25 Lore asks! II, III, VIII, IX

This is gonna be long because you didn’t specify for who so I’m picking everyone.

II.) What was your MC’s first impression of their LI? What about their LI’s first impression of them? Was it accurate or did them getting to know one another change how they saw each other?

Celica/Asra: They actually briefly met when they were kids when Salim created Celica’s first pair of glasses but neither of them remember it. Otherwise they met the same way described in canon at the masquerade, Celica wasn’t living in Vesuvia at the time was traveling instead and while she thought Asra was endearing she didn’t think much about it.

Celica/Portia: Portia came and visited the magic shop before the events of the story soon after Nadia woke up to try and she if she could get anything out of the local mysterious magician to help. They both felt an attraction to each other and Celica thought Portia was interesting and had potential but was ultimately just another curious mind who wasn’t going to provide business. Celica gravely underestimated just how much Portia would mean and that she wasn’t just a random civilian.   

Celica/Julian: She hated Julian. During the plague she was high stress and tightly wound up especially as she was trying to distract herself from her and Asra’s break up. Eventually she warmed up to him more and became friendly with Julian during the plague but ultimately they were coworkers and nothing more. While Julian still gets under her skin its more playful than anything and she does wonder if she was in a better mental state if they could’ve been closer during the plague

Nefeli/Muriel: Nefeli met Muriel as a gladiator when she was a making a ‘cultural exchange’ in Vesuvia. Despite coming from a culture of pacifism and never being exposed to violence she took pity on Muriel and wanted to help but was unable to due to her mothers presence refusing to let her speak to a ‘murdering brute’. She wishes that she had known more about what Muriel was truly going through then, she wishes she was in a better state of mind back then to have defied her mother, she regrets a lot of things she did but never regretted trying to show him kindness.

Sidereus/Lucio: They met when Lucio was just a mercenary when he found a young freshly made sorcerer Sidereus who has zero survival skills dying on the side of the road. Sidereus promised to make himself useful if Lucio taught him how not to die in the wilderness basically. They had a short lived fling but Sidereus was disgusted with Lucio’s bloodlust being raised a pacifist. Unfortunately for both of them Sidereus would get over his disgust for Lucio and it will become endearing to see him grow.

III.) Where in the Arcana world map does your MC come from? What was their life like there?

Actually Celica, Sidereus, and Nefeli all hale from the country of Hesperia, which while being mentioned in Portia’s tale (Described a mysterious country with an odd accent) isn’t on the actual world map they posted. So I’ll just share some of the development I have on Hesperia for my ocs which is uhhh a lot. 

Basically Hesperia is far west from Vesuvia and practically on the tail end of the continent, its a small country that is entirely based on a peninsula and was a booming economic and magical power 200 years ago with an importance on naval trading. 

Unfortunately Hesperia became one of the Devil’s first attempts to merge worlds before Vesuvia and due to this the entire country is ‘corrupted’ magically. It has become a wasteland and dust storms of ash makes it almost constantly night time. Hesperia has a religion that was born due to this deceit from the Devil that focuses solely on the idea of “resurrecting the country” through necromancy and is described as a country permanently in mourning of the Devil’s slaughter of their home. They have an intense hatred of The Arcana and have a team of magical spies and wanderers whose purpose is to prevent anything that befell on their country to happen to anyone else.     

VIII.) If your MC could take their LI anywhere in the Arcana world, where would they take them and why? What about in the real world?

Celica generally speaking has no where exactly they want to take them, as she has no real connection to her home country, all she wants is to travel the world with them without a care for a destination. 

Nefeli has been removed from Hesperia’s good graces but would love to take Muriel there one time simply because of the fact well, Muriel is excessively normal height in Hesperia and she thinks it’d be fun to see him react to no longer feeling like a giant. Also to show him her ancestral home and all the strange flora and fauna that exists in her cursed country. 

Sidereus has a lot of small towns he wants to show Lucio where the community welcomed him. He’s visited a lot of places and has a running list of areas that feel like home to him despite never living there.  

IX.) Does your MC ‘borrow’ clothes from their LI or vice versa? If so, what is their favourite garment that they’ve ‘borrowed’ and won’t ever return?

Celica uses clothes as a love language honestly. They are an extension of herself and of her love so she is a clothes thief. She is a sucker for wearing scarfs of her partners (asra’s and portia’s) and shirts and will wear them out in public with no shame and loves if someone points it out. 

Nefeli has a relationship of control when it comes to her clothes and wardrobe as its something before she left home she never had control over. if she steals anything from Muriel its only something she wears when they are intimate or not in public. She has borrowed his cloak a lot to sit around the hut

Sidereus is a whole foot taller than Lucio so nothing lucio has really fits him in a cute way. And his capes aren’t sid’s style. Besides he prefers seeing Lucio in something of his

[crowkingwrites]

The Purge

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton x Lily Bolton // Words:2416  // Ao3 Link

Summary: Written as a sequel to You Made Me. This modern day story is about Ramsay and Lily Bolton's descendant, Royce Bolton, as he spins a tale of one particular night that would change everything for the Bolton family.

Students gathered in a tight-knit group in the middle of the parking lot. Mrs. Easton’s first year of teaching history at North Hill High School was going really well. She had become a fast favorite among students with her interesting takes on history. Today, she brought them to a historical monument for Halloween for a spooky story or two.

“Royce! It’s good to see you!” Mrs. Easton said, all smiles. She tipped her red-rimmed glasses and Royce tipped his black rimmed ones. A common greeting between two history major alumni from Westeros University.

“Good to see you too, Layne!” they embraced as old friends do. “Is this your class?”

“It is!”

“They look like a good group of kids,” Royce put his hands on his hips. “Hate to scare them.”

“Not everyone has ancestry of awful, scary people,” Layne laughed. She turned her attention to her kids. “Every gather ‘round! I want you to meet a good friend of mine. This is Royce. He owns the Dreadfort.”

“Uh uh. My father owns the Dreadfort. I’m just the history nerd of this place.”

“I heard serial killers lived here!” one of the teens shouted.

“Quite a few actually,” Royce Bolton laughed. “Shall we begin? I’m sure my ancestors would love to meet you all.”

“Whoa wait, is this pace haunted?” a girl asked.

“Paige, that’s not—

“It’s alright, Layne.” Royce took over. “There are a few ghosts that haunt The Dreadfort, but before we go in let me ask you guys some questions. What do you know about the Dreadfort?” One teen raised his hand.

“A lot of people died here at the hands of one of your uh, ancestors.”

“Nah dude. He ain’t even human,” his friend cut in. “I watched a youtube video about this dude. He was an animal.”

Royce clapped his hands and laughed. “Careful, he’s my great, great, great, great grandfather. Lord Ramsay Bolton has a bloody history.”

“You’re a direct descendant?” the same girl asked. “That’s so fucked up. He had kids?”

“He had a whole family,” Royce gestured to himself. “Obviously. The seed is strong.”

“He was a vampire, right? That means you’re a vampire too.” Royce laughed even louder.

“We’re gonna put those silly rumors to rest. Let’s get inside the horror house, yeah?”

Royce took the field trip group inside the Dreadfort and started showing them historical aritifacts. How people, especially low borns, lived at the Dreadfort. Outside, everything was placed carefully as if people still lived there. Weaponry hung polished and perfect in the armory. Bedrooms still had original bedsheets and blankets mimicking what it was like to sleep there, including the temperature of the rooms.

“It’s so cold here, what the fuck?”

“Language, Tyrone,” Layne reminded him.

“Sorry, Mrs. Easton. Was it cold here all the time?”

“Yes and no. Fortresses and castles never had central heating and air. They relied on fireplaces and windows to control the temperature of the rooms.”

“Sounds awful,” a girl snapped a pic of outside the window. “Was everyone who lived here miserable?”

“No. In fact, Lady Bolton quite enjoyed the cold.”

“Lady Bolton? Ramsay’s wife? He had a wife?” Tyrone looked confused.

“Yes, again! He had a whole family. Follow me,” Royce took the group to the private dining hall in the Dreadfort. A family portrait of the Boltons stood above the grand fireplace. Roose Bolton stood over them all with Lady Walda by his side. She cradled a small bundle in her arms. Below them was Ramsay and a redheaded girl. The redhead girl’s eyes followed you throughout the room no matter where you stood.

“Is that her? She looks like Hell.”

“She was. Her name is Lilith. Lily for short. She started as a servant for the Boltons.”

“A servant marrying into a noble family? How scandalous!” a girl with glasses laughed. “How did she do it?”

“Lord Ramsay likes redheads. He was interested in her from the beginning. He had many lovers and female servants, but she stuck. She followed his orders to a T. He made her.”

“What do you mean, he made her?” the same vampire commenting teen asked. Royce gestured for all of the teens to sit. They took seats around the dining hall, taking in the wooden dining table and the plush chairs. Royce pulled at curtains, darkening the room around the teens. A smirk hid on his face. The fire was the only source of light in the room. A teen kept a tight grip on his switchblade hidden inside his hoodie.

“What’s all of this?”

“It’s storytime,” Royce sat at the head of the table. “What, are you too scared?” The teen loosened his grip and shook his head.

“Nah. I’m good.”

“Let me tell you the story of Ramsay, Lily, and the first ever recorded purge night.”

“Like the movie? The Purge? Are you serious? That happened?”

“It starts with Lady Bolton up there. Walda had that portrait made for her baby. She took her duties as mistress of the Dreadfort very seriously. Once she had the portrait made, she hung it up for all to see. She was proud to be a Bolton despite their ugly reputation. Ramsay, on the other hand, hated the beautiful painting.” Royce looked into the fire, letting imagination take over. He saw his great, great, great grandfather pace the room.

Ramsay stopped in front of the painting again. He scowled at it. Once he turned, he bumped right into Lily.

“Gods!” Ramsay stepped back. “You’re too quiet. You know that?”

Lily pointed to her ruined tongue, something of his doing.

“Right. Sometimes I regret doing that to you. But then I remember you forced me into doing it. You’ve never lied to me since. And you won’t ever again.” Ramsay caressed her cheek. Lily gave him a smile, but looked to the painting before them.

“I hate it. Her child is above me. I should be the rightful heir. I hate her. I hate him,” Ramsay’s attention turned back to Lily. “I haven’t taught you how to assassinate someone yet.” Lily smiled, picking up what he was implying. She pointed to a guard passing by the room.

“Good. Good question. Walda and the baby are guarded, but I have an idea. Follow me.”

Lily’s red hair flowed behind her, standing out against the soft snow. Their hands brushed against one another’s. Lily was aware of her feelings for her teacher and master. She had often stayed up long nights writing out how she felt, but would always throw it away in the morning. He and Myranda had killed Violet together. She had hoped for that same chance with Myranda.

Still, Myranda stood by his side when Ramsay had gathered the Bastard’s Boys and other bloodthirsty soldiers around him.

“I think it’s time that my father and his wife should be relieved of their duties a rulers of this great house. My father has forgotten his ancestral traditions. Our family used to live like kings. Now, we lived by the grace of the Starks in the North in this pile of shit.” Several guards and boys nodded their heads.

“How do we assassinate him?” someone stupidly asked.

“Don’t use that word,” Myranda scolded. “We cannot be found out before we even start.” Myranda was right. Lily knew. Lily looked out at all of the men. Anyone here would die for Ramsay, not her. She lived for him. As did Myranda.

“We will purge tonight,” Ramsay ordered. “Each one of us will purge ourselves all night long and start anew when we see dawn. After that, we all have a clean slate to carry this house into the future where it belongs, as rulers of the North.”

The idea was too delicious to pass up. Soon, word spread in the nearby villages in quiet whispers. No word had reached Roose’s ears. The Bastard’s Boys reported nothing to their lord. Dusk settled into the Dreadfort’s stones, cooling them off from the day. A single guard took his post for the night. As he sat down, an arrow shot through his ear, killing him instantly.

Another traitor guard took his place and yanked his arrow from his head. He used the bloody arrow again and shot it through a Bolton banner. After seeing the sign, the purge began.

Lily used Ramsay’s daggers at his blessing and slashed her way up to Walda’s room. Myranda followed her, giving her cover and defending her if need be.

“Don’t hold it like that,” Myranda instructed. “Always point the blade out.” Lily narrowed her eyes at the girl. She knew that. She wanted to speak poison back to her, but her stump allowed her only an angry mumbling. Myranda touched her shoulder.

“It’s alright to be nervous. I was too. You’re not alone.”

Lily opened the unguarded, locked door easily. One could claim she had a talent for locks, but no one ever saw her unlock a locked door. It only just opened. Inside the room sat a terrified mother and her infant.

“Please,” Walda begged. “Please spare him. I’ll run off. I won’t ever say anything to anyone. Please!” Lily removed her sympathy several years ago when her own mother left her behind for dead. The dagger sunk into her chest before she could beg more. As Walda took her last breath, Lily could hear screams from inside the Dreadfort. The Purge had taken full effect.

Myranda took the babe into her arms. She calmed him down and smiled down at him. Annoyed, Lily attempted to take the babe from her. Myranda stepped away.

“You don’t have to do this,” she told Lily. “Whatever Ramsay told you to do. You can say no. I know a woman in a nearby village who can take him far away from here.” Lily cocked her eyebrow. Myranda planned this.

Lily moved forward again. Myranda stepped away. “I draw the line at children. Just go and tell Ramsay he’s dead.”

“Who’s dead?” Ramsay appeared behind Myranda. Seeing the squirming infant in her arms, he turned his sights to Lily. “Kill him.”

“No,” Myranda said.

“Did you just—

Ramsay was interrupted by a cut to his face. Blood dripped down his cheek. His anger rose to his chest. “You cut me.”

“Let me take the baby.”

“As long as he breathes, I will never be Lord.”

“Do you think I care?” Myranda shot back. “I’m taking him.” As she pushed past Ramsay, something came over Lily. Seeing Ramsay hurt by his lover, him being told no, it switched something inside. Something she had been hiding this entire time.

Lily jumped on Myranda’s back, sinking her teeth into her neck. It sent all three of them down the stairs, crushing the baby. Myranda tasted so good. Lily had wondered. Myranda never drank, never smoked, and only ever had one sexual partner. Myranda was a feast waiting for the right vampire.

Lily had torn her shoulder apart, reaching some vital arteries. Myranda was already dead when Ramsay had reached the bottom of the stairs. He took in the scene around him. He heard people screaming from other rooms, but this one was quiet. The only sound was Lily’s mouth slurping and swallowing Myranda’s blood and flesh.

The baby laid face down on the stairs, blood pooling around him like a red king.

“How long?” Ramsay asked. “How long have you been this way?”

Lily lifted herself from Myranda and drew on the floor in front of her. Blood and dirt formed the number fourteen.

“You’ve been a vampire all this time you’ve been with my family? That’s why you’ve never aged. Are you a threat?”

Lily shook her head no.

Ramsay looked to the baby. “You are loyal to me. Prove it. Eat the baby.”

Lily crawled over to the infant. As she picked up the infant, blood dripped from his face to the ground. Lily turned the small body over in her hands. Her teeth sank into the baby’s chest. She ate his heart while keeping eye contact with Ramsay. Ramsay could feel gooseflesh taking over his arms.

He had a vampire who was loyal to him. He wasn’t glad or angry. He was scared. He swallowed his fear and kept his eyes on Lily.

“You are more loyal to me than anyone I know. Why? You could kill us all.” Lily dropped the infant. It made a thudding sound on the ground. She drew with her bloody fingers again.

Love.

“You love me? Has our time together given you affection towards me?” Ramsay laughed. He watched Lily’s face fall. “No, no, no. Not like that. I’m only shocked.” Ramsay kneeled down to Lily’s level. His knees cover in the baby’s blood now. He took her face and brought her close to him. “You’re my secret now. No one will know. I will keep you safe.”

“After that night, Lord Ramsay took over and married her. They had four children together and ruled together,” Royce smiled as he finished his story.

“I told you they were fucked up. Who marries a girl after she eats a baby? Like who?”

“Tyrone—

“Language. I know, but still! For real.” Royce stood up and laughed. He walked towards the door.

“Family was very important to my great, great, great grandfather.”

“You keep saying that,” spoke up the know-it-all. “Lord Ramsay Bolton ruled in like the 16th or 17th century right? It’s 2019. Wouldn’t he be like your great grandfather times infinity?” Other students snickered at the joke. Royce snickered too as he locked the door.

“No. Lord Ramsay Bolton is only my great, great, great grandfather. That’s how bloodlines work. Just as Lady Lily is my favorite grandmother.”

“That’s sweet of you to say about someone you never met.” Mrs. Easton walked towards Royce. Royce turned to her with glowing red eyes.

“What do you mean? My grandmother’s right behind you.” Mrs. Easton and her students turned to a gruesome sight. There was Lady Lily Bolton. Her sunken eyes and older bones crawled on the wall towards the family portrait. Students scrambled behind Mrs. Easton for safety.

Mrs. Easton looked to her old friend. “Royce—

“Shut up, Layne. You were always too damn perfect for this world.”

“The kids!”

A singular hiss came from Lily. Her white hair parted so the teens could see her stump salivating and pulsating in her mouth. Royce walked towards his favorite grandmother.

“I really hate kids. They always mess up everything, don’t they?”

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[krahka]

The KleskizhAUs and their Poetic Styles

Under read more because lomg

SWTOR Kleskizhae

Ridiculous Sith Juggernaut. Excessively proud of his Sith ancestry but also ridiculously light side and somehow doesn’t see this as a problem. Loves lightsabers, loves the Empire but is a little less clear on whether he likes the Empire as an institution or the Empire as the people, and hint, it’s the people, he’ll pick the people if he had to.

Poetry: ALL CAPS HAIKUS FREE VERSE ASTRONOMY METAPHORS EXTREMELY VIOLENT REFERENCES TO ANCIENT SITH HISTORY BEAUTIFUL WORDS BEATEN STRAIGHT OUT OF HIS HEART OF DARK PASSION

DS!SWTOR Kleskizhae

Ridiculous and awful Sith Juggernaut. Believes himself morally and genetically superior to all others. Delights in toying with his inferiors, especially in breaking their hearts with his charm and facade of kindness. 

Poetry: Flowery and romantic and flattering. More or less copies of ancient Sith poems, but with the words changed a bit. They’re mostly for showing off how cultured he is and how much he loves you babe, so he doesn’t put in much effort. 

ESO Kleskizhae

Altmer Battlemage. A scion of the Direnni but not on great terms with his family due to his allegiance to the Aldmeri Dominion and his marrying a Bosmer because of Spinner shenanigans. Ambassador of the Queen and definitely not one of her Eyes nosir. Got pressganged into the Buoyant Armigers after impressing Vivec by exemplifying all of hir favorite virtues and vices just by accident.

Poetry: Sonnets. Ballads. Sexually explicit but it’s so purple that you can hardly tell just how sexually explicit it really is. Mostly about his own adventures and the people he knows. Melodramatic as fuck. The stuff he wrote when Vivec specifically was taking an interest in him is his best work, since he starts getting more experimental and tones down the silliness without losing that red hot emotional core that really elevates the verse to something that so many people try and fail to replicate in the future that it’s become its own genre. 

DS!ESO Kleskizhae

Altmer Battlemage what dabbles in necromancy. Believes himself the rightful king of all of High Rock with the Bretons as his rebellious subjects. Allied with Mannimarco because he promised him that when Planemeld happened, he could have his ancestral holdings all to himself, with all the people there living only to glorify him. The kinda guy you end up killing in the Daggerfall Covenant quests or in a Balfiera focused dungeon DLC. 

Poetry: Pretty similar to light side ESO!Kleskizhae, but if he thinks you didn’t appreciate his work he’ll torture you until you do. Try and critique it and he’ll just plain murder you and raise your corpse to grovel for his forgiveness and admit that you were wrong. Also his poetry is his annoying boss mechanic somehow. Didn’t read the books in his dungeon? Too bad because that’s how you defeat him. 

GW2 Klejskizae

Norn Herald. Skald, champion of Wolf, Lightbringer of the Order of Whispers. A Delight unto all people of Tyria! Your new best friend who is not using your friendship with him to learn your secrets! Come and listen to him channel the spirits and the Legends next Dragon Bash!

Poetry: Actually more into prose. Veddas. Stories about heroes, exaggerated for effect. Tales that he keeps in his mind that he tells differently each time he’s asked to tell it, depending on what he thinks his audience needs to hear. The poetry tends to be more personal, often taking the form of prayers to the Spirits that are between him and them. Also will write songs, also about heroes, with calls to action for the Pact. 

TES!Specifically Klejskizae

Nord Skaald. Traveling yeller. Delighter of audiences all throughout Tamriel. Follower of the Old Ways. Probably also in the Blades. 

Poetry: SCREAMING TAVERN SONGS. Great heroes, sometimes gets kicked out of taverns in Skyrim because he’s performing songs about non-Nord heroes but how can you not be excited by EVERYONE

SWTOR!Specifically Klejskizae

Mandalorian what will scream battle poems in your ear as he faces you in glorious hand to hand combat. Has some very weird ideas of what being Mandalorian is, but they’re closer to reality than his Sith version’s ideas of being Sith. 

Poetry: You thought Sith Kleskizhae’s poetry was gory and violent? You haven’t heard Mando Klejskizae. They are ridiculous. Everything ends with lovers embracing for the last time as they die in battle and their death is described in excruciating detail.

FFXIV Kleskizhae

Ishgardian adventurer. Dragoony Bard. Got kicked out for being way too scandalous for the theocracy and for talking too much about how he thought that maybe we should just smooch the Dragons? 

Poetry: The poetry isn’t why he’s not liked back in Ishgard, though that poetry was a means to transmit his unpopular and scandalous ideas and activities. The poetry specifically is why he’s distrusted in Gridania after he met an elemental and challenged it to a rap battle and it went very poorly. (Kleskizhae won and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise or that that’s not the point and there is no winning because he definitely won)

West Coast Fallout Klaus K. Zheng

Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel. Sort of into the whole BoS thing of keeping dangerous tech out of people’s hands but also he’s into protecting people in any way he can, since they must protect those who will inherit the past, yes? That is what we’re doing, right? Right?

Poetry: He found a book of poems about Arthurian legends and they changed his life, as did Grognak the Barbarian which he’s sure is in the same canon. He’s also read a bunch of Shakespeare and only sort of understands it. So yeah, sonnets that are Shakespeare ripoffs. Casting modern topics into medieval terms. Sometimes it’ll get weird and his BoS worldview will come in and make them anachronistic but it’s unintentional because he just wants to write like the knights of yore. 

East Coast Fallout Klaus K. Zheng

Enclave soldier, later deserter once he sees that oh shit killing everyone wasn’t supposed to be what they were going to do! He wasn’t listening to the quiet part! Ends up aiding synths because it pisses off the BoS and also saves lives. Still believes in America but it’s one that maybe never existed. 

Poetry: The Enclave did preserve a lot of good American literature in their databanks, though they’re kinda sketchy about distributing it to their soldiers since even before 2077 they realized that a lot of the American canon contains like, anti-war, anti-corporate ideas and they couldn’t have that in their new society. He read Leaves of Grass once and it blew his mind. He might just surrender to the Brotherhood if they let him have access to their books, because he needs those. But also he might not because they would probably kill him and he’s also spending his post-Raven Rock time helping synths out of the Institute and that’s something they’d kill him for. And probably also kill a lot of other people if they realized that the Railroad had ex-Enclave in there. And the Institute doesn’t care for the humanities, which is why they had to create machines to teach them how to be human and then proceed to do such terrible things to the humans they’ve created; because they are less machine than they are and they resent them for it. 

Modern Vlogger Klaus K. Zheng

Relationship advice vlogger, specifically as a counter-voice to all those shitty misogynist PUAs that are targeting lonely straight men. Also here for the lonely women and the lonely queers since he’s a queer man himself. 

Poetry: He’s got a Master’s in Poetry and he feels it was time well spent, even if he didn’t care as much for academia as he did for the writing and the reading. One of the rewards for donating to his Patreon at a higher tier is a short poem written just for you about whatever subject you wish. (Assuming that it’s not extremely objectionable. He’ll gladly write poems about all sorts of sex acts, but he won’t write one about the virtues of white power.)

HZD Kleskizhae

Carja Warrior. Participated in the Red Raids because that was what the will of the Sun was but he couldn’t take the violence and the genocide and ended up joining with Sun-Prince Avad to overthrow the murderous king literally as soon as he could. Has been on a tour of goodwill ever since. 

Poetry: Overuses the words “glinting”, “scintillating”, “resplendent”, “radiant”, “brilliant” and other words that mean A LOT OF LIGHT because he’s really into writing ridiculous songs about the Sun. A lot more personal and emotional than a lot of Carja poetry, since it’s more about love than about praising the Sun or the King. It’s a new dawn, and what the world needs is love’s shining rays to heal her wounds. With the help of some Oseram who wanted to promote the newly invented phonograph, manages to become the first real pop star after the apocalypse.

DA Kleskizhae

Tevinter Battlemage. Was sent off to the front lines against the Qunari to keep from embarrassing his family and his master. Accidentally ended up embarrassing them anyway. 

Poetry: So he’s really into bringing up the Old Gods in his poems. He doesn’t worship them, he’s a good Andrastian, but you know how in the Renaissance everyone was a huge Greeceaboo? Yeah, it’s like that. 

WtA Klaus K. Zheng

Fianna Galliard. He’s a werewolf poet who sings ballads of his pack’s glorious battles and lifts their spirits in the name of Gaia and Stag!

Poetry: He’s got a soft spot for dirty limericks. All of the Kleskizhaes will make improv poems upon request when they’re drunk enough but Fianna!Klaus is the master of the drunken on-the-spot poem. Like they get way better when he’s drunk and they’re improvised, as opposed to the usual thing where they’re charmingly bad.

VtM Klaus K. Zheng

Toreador. Got the vampire bug some time in the Victorian era, I dunno if he was actually British or what.

Poetry: Lord Byron himself once called his poems “a bit maudlin.” His sire was certainly fond of his work, but if he had more time in his peak living creative years he would have probably been a better known figure in the Romantic movement. As it is he’s fairly irrelevant and forgotten by all but a few intense scholars of the period, and even they consider him a minor figure. 

Shadowrun Klaus K. Zheng

Elven Street Samurai. Just wants to make the world a better place through the power of love and also katanas. Probably unfortunately involved with Aztechnology which is gonna end badly for him probably. 

Poetry: Machines and corporations have not yet conquered the metahuman soul, and that is why he writes. Has been banned from a couple of Runner BBSs for constantly posting about his latest runs in the form of epic poem, and that’s not what these boards are for, @GLORIOUSSAMURAI, please turn off your caps lock

Star Trek Kleskizhae

Romulan Tactical Officer. Fought in the Dominion War, joined the Romulan Republic after Romulus asplode, because they wouldn’t let him quietly desert and because he believes in the true Romulan spirit that can never be repressed!

Poetry: He’s trying to revive ancient pre-Awakening Vulcan poetic traditions whilst failing to recognize that lots of it doesn’t work in the modern Romulan language. He’s always been super into poetry but after the destruction of Romulus, he becomes obsessed with writing the perfect series of poems to describe it for the future, so that people will remember what it’s like long after everyone who remembers it is dead. He hasn’t been successful yet and it’s upsetting him but he can’t just not do it. He owes it to the dead. 

Bionicle Kleskizhae

He's a proud Skakdi warlord of Fire who is trying his best to unite his proud and noble people against the wicked deprivations of the Makuta and might also be in the Order of Mata Nui because sometimes Kleskizhae is a spy? But always he is very loud. 

Poetry: Extremely long and elaborate war chants with 40 verses that he’s trying to get his guys to chant into battle but no one else but him can remember it all and he keeps adding more verses. But also he’s written love poetry that’s gone all the way around Greg and made romance canon again! He’s done it! With the chiseling of the tablets he’s made love real!