#i always think about beast wars as a conflict taking place in A cold war

[starfall-spirit]

Hate to break it to you, but Feysand has always been a retcon and SJM is a liar who says she’s always had them planned to sound cooler and to cover up the fact that she’s always said 1) she never plans her books and 2) she had to add Rhys in earlier and that she’d originally planned for him to be the villain.

Detailing the actual story of how ACOTAR came to be from her own former newsletter, she wrote two and half ACOTAR books in 2009 (then originally only a trilogy). In 2014, SJM scrapped and rewrote the entirety of that original second and half of a third book and completely started over with them, creating what is now ACOMAF and ACOWAR. She did not change anything in ACOTAR, though, but she did add things in during editing. She’s also said Nesta and Lucien were originally supposed to be mates and that she didn’t even plan for Nessian until she wrote the scene where the IC goes to ask Feyre’s family for help.

If Nesta and Lucien were originally endgame, that would infer that Feyre in the original second book actually spent a majority of her time in the Spring Court because how else would Nesta meet Lucien? He doesn’t live in the NC. He doesn’t live the AC. And if a majority of the plot is taking place in Spring and the story is from Feyre’s pov, it would also imply Feyre was still with Tamlin. 🤷🏼‍♀️ And a quick reminder that the entire series was originally a Beauty and the Beast/Tamlin retelling, not just the first book.

You can love Feysand, no one is telling you not to, but if you’re going to try to debunk what others are saying, then at least find out why they’re saying it in the first place so you can provide a proper counter argument. There’s overwhelming evidence within the first book that anything after it was never planned.

In fact, you could take Rhys out of the first book and the Calanmai scene would still work if Lucien had been the one to find her. The dresser would still work if Feyre and Elain’s drawers were swapped. Amarantha’s whore could be anybody, and the scene where Rhys forces Tamlin and Lucien to beg for Feyre could’ve happened with that anybody, not just Rhys. Maybe you should think about why the first book of a book series, where he’s supposedly been the plan all along, could still play out without him. 😬

Hi, anon.

I would first like to let you know, my inbox is not a place to start ship wars or attack people for their opinions of canon fandom matters. I hope in the future you respect the simple request at the top of my page to leave me polite asks.

But, to clarify a few points you've addressed here, look under the cut

"She never plans her books."

Anon, I'm not sure what precisely you mean when you say plan. There are many types of writers. When you're drafting an original story you may create an outline detailing the step by step plot, conflict, character development, call to action, etc.

Or perhaps you are an author like me, who instead prefers to free write. I won't hesitate to admit I can't stick to an outline beyond points A, B, and C. For example, my Anastasia AU

Chapter 1: The Rumor, The Legend, The Mystery (St. Pete)

Rumors

Plan Con

Meet Elain

Chapter 2: Things My Heart Used To Know (December)

Learning Heritage

Rhys’ 1st appearance

Chapter 3: The High Lord Lies Cold (Neva flows)

Rhys Bonus

Chapter 4: Let Me Say Goodbye (Stay I pray you)

1997 ~For the Magic~

Carriage out of Dusk 

Carriage stopped enroute

Escape

Chapter 5: In a Crowd of Thousands

Nightmare/Talk

Travel on foot to gate to Day

Meet Helion

Chapter 6: Could it Be? (Quartet)

2. "She had to add Rhys in earlier than planned to be a villain."

What exactly is the point of this statement? Maybe Feyre could have stayed inside the manor on Calanmai. Maybe Lucien could have stumbled upon her and the three fae who targeted her. If you think she's the only author to rewrite a story or add characters in an earlier or later position, I'm going to guess you don't have much of a concept of the natural writing process.

3. "Detailing the actual story of how ACOTAR came to be from her own former newsletter, she wrote two and half ACOTAR books in 2009 (then originally only a trilogy). In 2014, SJM scrapped and rewrote the entirety of that original second and half of a third book and completely started over with them, creating what is now ACOMAF and ACOWAR. She did not change anything in ACOTAR, though, but she did add things in during editing."

Again, the natural writing process. Rewriting a hundred times over if it's necessary to get the book published. Editing for the sake of a fluid storyline.

4. Your points on Nesta, Lucien, and Cassian have nothing to do with a Feysand of Feylin endgame. There could have been a dozen different ways SJM planned on Lucien and Nesta meeting outside of Spring that we will never know. The fact is that in the end, SJM decided "Lucien and Nesta would be at each other's throats. And not in a good way". Or something along those lines. In walked Nessian.

5. "You can love Feysand, no one is telling you not to, but if you’re going to try to debunk what others are saying, then at least find out why they’re saying it in the first place so you can provide a proper counter argument."

I am aware I have the freedom of expression in the fandom. I would also like to clarify I was entirely polite in "debunking" the counterargument to defend Tamlin. Did you feel particularly attacked when I told a new fandom member to try the second book and see if it was to their liking when they saw Rhysand's story?

Or was it my assessment of Tamlin's lack of anger management and every marker of an abuser he shows from the second he comes to take Feyre across the wall.

TL;DR

No matter how many rewrites ACOTAR went through, there was no character retcon on Tamlin or Rhys. Book one was an adaptation of Beauty and the Beast and Book two was an adaptation of Hades and Persephone, even if very few elements were taken from the actual tales.

For any others who wish to drop in and give me a polite hello, my inbox is always open and I'm chugging along so I have some lovely Feysand and crack ship snippets to provide you with.

[diagonal-queen]

belated thungo thursday! someone's about to be real sad and that someone is ME

dazai: you have to do an impossibly important job for me akutagawa: oka- dazai: keep atsushi safe akutagawa: N E V E R

akutagawa was like 'dont kill the weretiger. not cus i like him or anything, but because if you kill him, he's gonna revive and he's gonna be an even bigger pain in the ass. save all of us the trouble'

NOT fukuchi being like 'respect the elderly' and akutagawa is like 'i don't discriminate. i hate everyone regardless of their age'

am i the only one who sometimes gets a little annoyed at how atsushi and akutagawa are always arguing with each other? like in the right time and place it's very funny and actually very important to their relationship but the two of them will literally put more effort into insulting each other than defending their lives from the powerful enemy who is very much trying to kill them. PRIORITIES BOYS. PRIORITIES. EVEN SOUKOKU DON'T DO THAT

'Do we need any more?' who wants to tell him

(SORRY THAT WAS SO UNCALLED FOR LMAOOAAOOAOAOAOAOAOAOA)

i wonder how fukuchi discovered his ability. like imagine as a kid he was just like hanging out with a friend or something and they were eating chips or something and he jokingly throws a chip at his friend and the impact from that single chip makes said friend fly across the room and land on the floor dead and fukuchi is like 'uh. whoops'

NOOOOO THEY DIDNT ANIMATE THE PART WHERE AKUTAGAWA AND ATSUSHI WERE ARM IN ARM FOR A SECOND BEFORE AKUTAGAWA PUSHED HIM AWAY :(

'four years ago dazai san abandoned me' omg akutagawa taking that shit SO personal. he left because his bestie got killed by some french dude it had nothing to do with your emo ass

'i don't get paid enough to die with a villain!' he was so real for that

holy shit the part where sskk caught the bullets and dropped them i fucking gasped. that was so sexy and for what??? why was that so hot i rewatched it like ten times holy shit hotties

okay akutagawa knowing how to safely choke someone?? i guess we know what he's into

im curious as to why atsushi didnt ask akutagawa to go longer without killing someone- like a year or something. did he think he'd say no? was he thinking 'that's too high a goal for this maniac. baby steps' LMAOOOO

i love how atsushi's run is like this goofy ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ᕦ( ᐕ )ᕡ thing while akutagawa just naruto runs with a stone cold expression

'should we be outed, my head will be the first to fly' akutagawa on his odasaku arc

(THAT ONE WAS EVEN MEANER HELP IM SO SORRY)

i think its established pretty well now that i find atsushi sexy (and im sure absolutely nobody else does, but dont come for me) his tiger stripe mark things on his face make him look WICKEDLY attractive. argue with the wall

fukuchi live tweeting this crap like 'having a smoke while these gay boys plan to kill me. i'll update if i live lol'

people really always be like 'fukuchi has a point because of his war experience' i guarantee you if you were to approach any actual veterans and ask them if their experience in conflict made them want to plot for decades in order to kill everyone in the world who has ever been a veteran/fought in any sort of conflict, they would NOT give you an affirmative response. shut the fuck up

AND HE'S LIKE 'my struggles have been infinite and nobody gives me recognition for them so im mad' BUDDY WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE TALKING TO?????? AKUTAGAWA IS RIGHT THERE (and atsushi too but i mean he's kinda gotten some recognition for his rough life. akutagawa's gotten NONE)

imagine akutagawa like in beast breaking his arm and yosano is like 'oh dw akutagawa i can fi-' and then he's just using rashoumon to do it himself lmao (does he do that in beast? i havent finished it)

atsushi: i need to defeat this villain me: cus he wants to end the wor- atsushi: because i dont want akutagawa to do it first me:

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN ABOUT THEIR CONSTANT BICKERING???? DAMNIT SSKK

heyyyyy we finally got an akutagawa ass shot!!! *adds to collection* i

akutagawa: i need to defeat this villain me: cus he wants to end the wor- akutagawa: because i want dazai to think im cool me:

i mean he soon followed it by saying 'i would never work for you because you'll never be as cool as dazai' which is very true, so i guess you've redeemed yourself for now akutagawa

akutagawa in uniform >>>>>>>>

whoever is voicing akutagawa and atsushi in this ep deserves a million billion dollars

im sorry sskk. i didnt mean to laugh. but the sudden triumphant moment being cut off (as well as atsushi's hand lmaoo) made me giggle im sorry

TIGER FISHEYE

this episode got me wondering all over again; HOW is anybody going to defeat fukuchi. there is (seemingly) literally no way to best the spacetime sword (can't be arsed to remember its name im sorry). how the hell are they gonna resolve this. im not smart enough to theorise like the rest of you guys

holy shit what a perfect way to end that episode. like the suddenness of it and screaming akutagawa's name, but also because i haven't stopped listening to tetsu no ori since it came out and i'm obsessed with this song. everyone say thankyou granrodeo

i'm surprised i spent most of that time thirsting instead of crying. let's wait and see what happens next thungo thursday!!

[gallalctyka]

oooo wait i like ur ocs story even in shitpost small summary form tell me more :)))))))))

UAUAUAAAAAA..... alright then :3

okay so. like i said the whole premise is that, instead of the cold war ending by the fall of the eastern bloc and dissolution of the ussr, it ends with a world scale nuclear war that devastated mankind as we know it. not COMPLETELY wiped it out but. you know it was still pretty bad all things considered

the story focuses entirely on the eastern europe and the aftermath, as the action takes place a LONG time after the conflict. mankind is basically trying to rebuild itself from the ashes. think fallout or s.t.a.l.k.e.r. like (albeit i know the second one isn't technically post apocalyptic jdhgskh but i digress). ANYWAY the gimmick is that the long forgotten demons and spirits from slavic folklore have made themselves known after centuries (if not millennia) of hiding ^_^ they're fucking shit up!! well not all of them. many demons are cool actually. still dangerous as shit though

anyway with their "reawakening" so did the old faith. the slavic pantheon and old traditions are INTEGRAL to the lives and culture of the survivors. christianity who? (well it still kind of lingers i won't lie. considering the impact it had on our history but that's for another time). still, religion is a... tricky subject for some. as some people are understandably upset that the divine never came to stop the cataclysm from happening, ESPECIALLY since there are old tales of them actually showing up to aid after the fallout. but who knowsssss those are old sayings... wink wink

basically the whole thing is a mix of fantasy PURELY inspired by slavic mythology and sci-fi (there are ROBOTS HERE!!! soviet robots... and other weird soviet experiments that nobody knows what were for because nobody has any knowledge about technology anymore lol. oh also RADIOACTIVE MUTANTS) set in a post-apocalyptic setting

casimir is the main character!! a teenage disaster i tell you. they're basically a vagabond travelling between different settlements, their goal is to actually find a way to reach the Iron Curtain and to escape to the outside world (the whole eastern bloc is COMPLETELY unaware of what's going on outside). something something a metaphor of young eastern europeans running off to the west for better opportunities ANYWAY. the road to get there is basically unbeatable lol good luck trying to survive the ghouls lingering there. and if that won't stop you then good luck trying to pass through the Never Ending Storms. they're also a bounty hunter and Can Kill Demons. epic. something very useful. the story "starts" with them reaching lviv and kind of. getting stranded there?? but not really??? the details aren't important. what is important is that they're THERE

that's where they meet the brothers i mentioned! elias and nikolai :) they're old gruff men with an aura of mystery to them. elias is LOUD and very short tempered, emotional as all hell too. every emotion he has is explosive. he's definitely intimidating to a lot of people but once you start talking to him it's like to an old friend you've known all your life. he values camaraderie a lot. also he's a beast at parties. nikolai is more reclusive, always saying some ominous shit. you'd think he's the cool mysterious brother at first glance but really he's a chaotic freak that likes to fuck with people sometimes. mostly elias. but he is definitely more laidback of the two. one thing though is that their relationship is... VERY strained. to say the least. it's so bad to the point that basically EVERYONE IN THE CITY has no idea they are related. for all they know elias could chop off nikolai's head and nikolai could hex elias if given the right opportunity

oh right did i mention they are gods. perun and veles in fact, the two leading deities in the slavic mythology. that's fun. yeah they're basically undercover lol. you could even say retired. at least in elias's (perun's) case who feels unworthy of carrying the title of the "supreme god" after everything. nikolai (veles) is however more busy than ever being the god of death and afterlife. he feels like he's never going to rest - doesn't consider that a burden though, as he loves humanity. anyway they are DEPRESSED!

so when casimir comes into their lives they don't think much about it. elias doesn't even TRY to get attached because he never learned to cope with mortals passing. nikolai however decides to indulge in them... for one reason or another (:3) and it's like oh god. oh fuck i got attached. elias help. elias voice you're so pathetic watch me- oh no

honestly the one MOST against getting attached was casimir lol. all they wanted is some intel then they'd skeddadle outta there as fast as possible. people in this settlement were supposed to be nothing more than means to an end and now they ended up with TWO ADOPTIVE UNCLES and a CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. i love found family

[tb-gerschutz]

Fourteen

Word Count: 4,498

Trigger Warning(s): graphic depictions of violence, severe injury, possible cursing

Summary: Anaysha and Oberyn's war with King Sparr finally comes to a head.

**********

ANAYSHA

The world is definitely a cold, harsh place. A dark one that I've known my entire life. I have become so acclimated to being in the dark that I've known nothing else but that. I hadn't seen or felt the positive, bright light of day to know that there was still hope for me out there.

Then, Oberyn Martell came along.

He changed how I thought about everything and showed me that there was hope for me. I didn't have to give it all up just because I was at rock bottom. Thanks to him, I had a new lease on life that I sure as hell won't take for granted.

It's the same as the fact that I didn't take this war for granted, and I seemed to realize this while I was boarding the ship that would take us to the beast's mouth. The Iron Islands. The home I thought I knew.

Throughout the entire journey there, I could feel my stomach turn on its head multiple times. Only because I knew that I'd have to eventually confront my father. I hadn't seen him since the Iron Ball, which was an occasion where I knew I angered him. Only out of assumption did I think that he was fuming much more than he was back then.

"What if everything turns out the way we dreaded?" I pondered aloud.

Oberyn shot a sympathetic glance over to my direction. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if things don't go the way we wanted them to? What if my father does steamroll through Dorne like he wants to?" I pondered, my throat becoming dry as my fears shot up.

He sighed, letting out a heavy breath. It was like he was waiting for this to be said.

"Look, Anaysha, the one thing I've learned over my twenty-four years of life so far...is that life is always a toss-up. It's just a game of random chance. Sometimes, you get what you want. Other times, you don't," he said. "But if you want something, you have to work for it. You have to possess the drive to go after it. You certainly cannot expect life to go the way you desire if you're not willing to go for it."

"But, Oberyn...Over the past few years, that tossup hasn't been going my way," I depressingly fired back. "It's like my game of life is rigged enough to make me unhappy."

He gripped onto my hand so tightly that I thought he was crushing the bones in it. It hurt like a bastard to be trapped in his claustrophobic grasp, but at least I knew his words were truthful and serious.

"But you can't lose hope! You can't," he snarled in a relatively calm but ruthless tone. "You lose hope, then life isn't worth living anymore. Trust me. I lost hope once, too. Finding my suitor—my soulmate—was one of the hardest journeys I had to go on. But then, I met you, and...everything changed. You can't lose hope just because you have a bad stint in life. Trust me when I say this, princess, but everything will become better. I know it will."

I smirked, with one corner of my mouth hooking upward. "You really think that?"

"Of course I do," he answered simply.

I stared ahead at what was coming ahead, waiting for the exact moment for the sea to turn from a calm, beautiful blue to a dark, raging gray. Only then will I know whether or not we were close to the battlefield.

After a while, I found myself in the ship's sleeping quarter—the one specifically reserved for Oberyn and myself, since we were royals—and staring blankly out of the only window in there. My mind was rambling uncontrollably over the battle that was soon to fall upon us. The battle that will most likely break my heart because I'll be fighting against my father.

The conflict between us—and only us—had finally come to a head. A fiery climax, if you will.

It broke my heart to know that I'd have to fight my father. I'd have to fight in order to survive against him. At this point in the war, I can't let him win. Not after all the years he abused me and treated me like nothing.

To him, I was an absolute, nightmarish bane to his existence.

All the work I've put in, everything I've sacrificed up to this point would be for nothing if I give up now. I can't give up. I can't let my father win. My life would be more of a hell than it already is if my father claims the victory.

In the middle of my panicked thoughts, Oberyn somehow snuck into the quarter with me, being especially sneaky so that he wasn't noticed at all.

"I can tell you have something bothering you," he said. "You never stare out the window like this if your thoughts come to a screeching halt."

I turned around to face Oberyn, whose eyes were soft yet sympathetic. "Of course I have something on my mind," I said, "but it's something that I've been going on and on about for ages."

"You're realizing that you have to fight against your father, aren't you?" he asked.

"Why, yes," I responded. "I'm dreading it. Have been since the day I left home. I understand he's an awful person and should be put to death for what he's done so far. But he's also my father. He's been there since day one of my life. Sure, he'd go out on his conquests for weeks at a time and psychologically and emotionally abuse me every chance he got, but he was there. He was present in my life. Better than not being in it at all, I guess."

He ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth, doing everything in his power to not say anything too aggressive or offensive.

"But it still didn't give him the right to treat you the way he did," he finally answered.

"Oh, I agree," I said, "but—it's going to be hard knowing that one of us is going to stand tall, and the other is going to collapse to the ground in defeat...And I don't want to be the one who falls, you know?"

I cracked my knuckles nervously and started to pace back and forth, the feeling of panic madly rising in my throat. The realization that my father might actually kill me and Oberyn set in, and I was scared for the both of us. I'm sure Oberyn was scared at this realization that he might actually die, but even if he was...he wore this fear wonderfully well. I didn't even know that he was scared.

"I can't be the one to fall. Not when I've sacrificed so much to get here!" I added.

"Shhh," he said as he pressed one of his fingers to my lips.

I took that as my cue to stop talking. Nothing that I was going to say beyond this point was worth it, especially when Oberyn was standing right in front of me.

"Don't say another word, princess," he said in a low tone. "Rest assured, we will defeat your father and make him taste the defeat he deserves. I have no doubt about that."

For what seemed like an eternity, he and I stood there face-to-face, staring into each other's souls and trying to get each other to break. None of us flinched, of course, because we were serious about this playful competition of ours. Both of us had an extremely competitive spirit, which made it harder for either of us to get an easy victory over the other.

After I stepped out with Oberyn onto the deck again, I was suddenly hit with a piercing cold breeze. One that was so cold that it made me shiver within seconds. At first, I could only place the blame of this cold breeze onto the ocean, but then, I realized...

We were here. We were finally approaching the place that I once called home.

"Do we land right on Pyke?" Oberyn asked.

I thought about it for a second, thinking in a logical and strategic way. "No," I answered, turning to face him. "See to it that the captain knows that we land on the west side of Great Wyk. That way, my father doesn't detect us very easily."

"Couldn't we just land on the far west side of Saltcliffe?" he asked.

"No. It's too risky," I answered. "Saltcliffe is one of the closest islands to Pyke Castle. We'll be easily detected if we land there to convene."

Oberyn nodded, going off to notify the captain of my plans. After all, I was the commander of the armies right now. I had free reign over what we did, with Oberyn's advice, of course.

"Captain! Set course for the far west side of Great Wyk," he yelled to the captain. "Her Royal Highness here doesn't want to be detected by the enemy."

The captain at the wheel saluted. "As you both wish, Your Highnesses," he said, following his orders promptly.

After the ship docked on the far west side of Great Wyk, Oberyn and I made sure that the soldiers got off first before we even thought about descending. The Dornish soldiers—and even the ones we managed to rally from The North and the Crownlands—were the most important people right now. And even if Oberyn and I were ranked higher, these soldiers were the ones that were going to fight the battle for us. Without them, I'd probably lose miserably and be buried six feet below the ground right about now.

"Well, what now, Oberyn?" I asked. "What's the next step?"

He raised one eyebrow. "You're asking me?"

"Of course I am," I replied. "These are your men mostly. You know how to command armies. I don't. I've never had experience with that. So can you help me with commanding these soldiers? Because there's no way in hell that I can do it without you."

He smirked and put a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Of course I'll help you," he said. "Your father has crossed the line multiple times, and he's caused too much pain. I'll most certainly help you bring that monster to justice."

I nodded, acknowledging his words. Truly, I appreciated him being there for me all this time. Without Oberyn, I'd be damn near helpless. I wouldn't have the confidence to face my father that I have now. In fact, I wouldn't have any confidence at all. That's what my father has a tendency to do: Destroy people's confidences.

And after knowing him for several years, I can now say that he's damn good at it.

That was one of the factors I had to consider when rallying these armies. How are we going to go about bringing my father down? It was a difficult fire we were walking into, and if I—or anyone fighting for Dorne—made the wrong move, well...it'll be safe to say that we won't be living much longer.

I had everything that I was going to say coursing through my brain. I was definitely ready to voice that to the armies I was commanding. But when I eventually faced the overwhelmingly large hoard of soldiers, everything froze up. Nothing was slipping off my tongue as easily as I thought it would. It was like my mind completely forgot that I was commanding an unfathomably large army, rather than a mediocre-sized one.

...but with Oberyn by my side, I decided that I was going to improvise these words while still trying to get the important points across.

"Fellow soldiers," I started. "I stand before you today not as a foreign invader, but as an ally. We stand here within the boundaries of the place that I once called home. But unfortunately, it has disintegrated into the darkest Hell I've ever known."

I inhaled sharply, glancing over to Oberyn to see if I should stop talking. However, he gave the nod of approval, allowing me to continue.

"For the longest time, my father has used the power he possesses for evil, torturing those who rank beneath him. This includes me, his eldest daughter and second eldest child. For years, he has tried and failed to get me to obey his every command, but I refused to fall under his cruel rule," I continued on. "As a bull-headed royal who desires a better life, I stand before you to tell you this...Today, you fight for Dorne, a nation that is underestimated but considerably strong."

Despite my initial assumptions, the soldiers kept their eyes glued onto me and showed genuine interest in what I had to say. You would think that as someone who isn't from their home kingdom, they wouldn't take too kindly to them.

Evidently, I was wrong.

"My father, King Brandeth Sparr, has run rampant all over Westeros for far too long, causing pain everywhere he goes," I said, "and it's about time to bring him to an end. But in order to do that, we need to rise up. Rise up and fight back! We may be small and meek compared to him and his armadas, but it still doesn't change the fact that we have more heart and faith than he does. We can win this war if we put our minds together and fight for one goal, and that one goal is to bring victory home to Dorne. And with that, I—a native to the kingdom here in which we stand—am proud to stand before you and say...that I will certainly fight for Dorne and bring this evil I've known for such a long time to the reckoning he damn well deserves!"

While the soldiers shouted in delight and became excited over the impending war, Oberyn smirked and pulled me close to him. He was proud that I finally had the courage to take one of the first steps in leading a giant army into war.

"Here's our plan," I started. "Anyone in the first ten regiments, you're fighting on the front lines with Prince Oberyn and myself. While His Royal Highness and myself are fighting King Brandeth, you all will fight the King's soldiers. Anyone in the second or third group of ten regiments will stand by and be ready to clean up the rubbish once we've wiped out most of the enemies."

I paused to regain the breath in my lungs. "Anyone in the fourth group of ten regiments or any regiment beyond that will spread out to other islands and fight the enemy soldiers there."

"But what about the enemy armadas on the sea? Won't they invade because we aren't fighting them?" one of the head generals asked.

Oberyn and I exchanged a glance and chuckled, knowing damn well that we had that issue handled.

"Oh, we have that taken care of, General," I commented. "I made sure to have the most powerful armadas from The North and The Crownlands rallied up so they can take care of any marine threats."

"How did you manage to get them to help your cause?" another one of the generals asked.

Oberyn decided to chime in on the conversation. "Trust me, General. Anaysha's father has been everyone's enemy for far too long."

"It's much easier to get other kingdoms to join your war when you have the same enemy on the other side of the line," I added.

Then, before I knew it, the war was about to start. How did I know? Well...because I said it was time. If Oberyn and I didn't mobilize our troops to their designated places soon, then my father will most definitely catch onto us. Only then would Oberyn, myself, and his kingdom be totally fucked. Screwed over.

Dead and gone.

Oberyn and I—along with our troops managed to successfully land on Pyke without facing any sort of backlash from my father, which was quite strange. Typically, if any foreigner would land on the island of Pyke, my father wouldn't hesitate in sending his troops to wipe them out.

This case was different.

I was his daughter. His eldest daughter. The one that chose to not tolerate any more of his shit and chose to fight back. Then again, I only chose to do this because I had no other choice. If I didn't choose to escalate this war, then I'd most definitely be dead by now.

Oberyn and I stood in front of our regiments, staring down our enemies ahead. Armed with beautiful Dornish spears and protected by the traditional Dornish armor, we were ready for a fight, despite my insides constantly turning inside and out because of my anxiety.

"Are you ready?" Oberyn asked.

I let out a low, quiet chuckle. "Born ready," I simply said.

As my father raised one of his fists into the air, I decided to do the same. But this time, I raised my right arm, which tightly held my Dornish spear. I had to prepare my regimen for battle because the earlier we fought back against my father and got close to him, the more likely we'd win because of our element of surprise.

And as soon as my father dropped his fist, I dropped mine. The war was on.

"Charge!" I shouted.

Oberyn and I then dashed ahead, leading the charge against my father's armies. Plowing through enemies one by one, our army was doing much better than I expected them to. I was wrong about Oberyn's kingdom's military again.

Meanwhile, Oberyn and I worked together to take down each one of my father's men, using our exquisite and fluent fighting techniques to do so. Looking like an acrobat and snake, I constantly eluded the enemy soldiers and killed them quickly. I didn't even know that I could do such fighting like Oberyn did. I didn't know I had it in me. Perhaps I decided to teach myself these techniques after observing Oberyn fight in the Ultimatum Duel.

"I didn't know you had it in you, princess," Oberyn commented after stabbing one of my father's men dead with his spear.

"Neither did I," I responded, almost out of breath.

After taking out more enemies, Oberyn and I paused, finally coming within twenty feet of my father, who stood ahead of us with his sword drawn. Unlike his men, he only stood frozen in the same place for a long time. He didn't care about his men dying. He only cared about the fact that he was still living.

"After all this time, you still decide to fight back?" my father asked.

"Of course I do," I answered. "I had no choice."

He tightened the grip on his sword, getting ready to fight me and Oberyn. "Then, you are definitely no daughter of mine," he snarled.

"Not in the slightest," I responded, getting into a fighting stance with Oberyn.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I charged toward my father, with Oberyn quick to follow. From the get-go, we came to furious blows, constantly clashing with each other in an attempt to quickly disarm one another. I, on the other hand, had clashed more heavily with my father because I was letting all of my anger out onto him.

As a source of all of my frustrations, he had caused me so much pain. He had to go.

One after another, Oberyn and I attempted to bring my father down. But surprisingly, the man once formerly known as my father would not give up without a fight. With every blow Oberyn and I delivered, he seemed to get more and more frustrated.

I mean, who wouldn't? I'd get frustrated if someone kept bashing me aggressively.

But it's besides the point. My father seemed to get stronger with every blow he was delivered. It frustrated me. He just wouldn't go down!

At one point, I was knocked back from my father, which angered Oberyn. He had a turn having a one-on-one bout with my father, seemingly winning against him. With my legs as weak as jelly, I had trouble getting back up to my feet, which allowed me to lay against the ground and regain my strength. I needed any strength I could get if I had to fight my father.

As my father threw Oberyn's arms back with a thrust of his sword, he took that opportunity to plunge his beautiful sword into Oberyn's shoulder and abdomen, weakening him. That's when my life flashed before my eyes because I thought Oberyn had died.

"No!" I prolongedly screamed, as Oberyn fell to the ground.

I prayed to God that he was only unconscious and severely weak. I mean, what would I do without Oberyn? He was the love of my life...and my father tried to kill him.

"You monster!" I shouted toward my father, tightening my grip on my spear.

My father glanced over to me, smirking with a devilish spirit. "I am no monster," he snarled. "You are the bane that made me who I am."

"If anything, you are the bane that ruined my life!" I shouted back.

"No daughter of mine would be so oblivious," he snarled with some evil joy in his voice.

I then got into my fighting stance. "But a daughter of yours would be stubborn enough to fight back!" I shouted, quickly charging at him.

With every ounce of strength in my body, I delivered furious blow after furious blow toward my father, doing everything I can to try and take him down. He quite possibly killed the one person I ever loved, and it made me irate. So irate that I definitely wanted to kill him. I constantly tried to kill him, but he seemed to be one step ahead of me every single time. Even when I tried to plunge my spear into his abdomen, he'd counter that move and try to attack me.

And it seemed like time passed so slowly whilst I was in battle with my father. No matter what I did, he would not go down. And with every blow he tried to deliver to me, I wouldn't go down. Not without a fight, at least.

I finally had the opportunity to take him down when I used my spear to deflect his sword's blade. As I thrust it to his side and pushed him backward, I finally used my spear to plunge it through his abdomen and screamed after plunging it in. I made sure the tip of the spear was so far in his body that he definitely felt the pain of being stabbed.

This is what the consequences of his actions brought him to.

I swiftly yanked the spear out of his abdomen, firmly placing my foot on his chest and glaring at him directly in the eyes. I had finally won. I had taken him down.

"Fine! I surrender," he said, almost in a whimpering tone. "You win. Just put me out of my misery already."

"Not a chance," I responded. "You deserve to live and be haunted by what you've done to me."

"Just kill me already! I don't deserve to live," he begged. "Unlike you, I don't have a heart of gold."

I paused but didn't let up my furious gaze. "I'm not going to kill you, but I won't have the heart to save you."

I lifted my foot off my father and immediately diverted my attention away from him, allowing him to suffer in pain.

Realizing what had happened moments before, I rushed to Oberyn's side, silently praying to the Seven Gods that he wasn't dead. I hoped he wasn't dead. That would be a crushing blow to my spirit. I felt his bloodied abdomen and tried to jolt him awake.

"Oberyn! Oberyn, wake up!" I shouted. "We won. We won, Oberyn. We finally won!"

But no matter what, he would not wake up.

"Please wake up! You have to wake up! Come on, please," I pleaded. "Stay with me, Oberyn. Please stay with me. You have to. Please, Oberyn! I love you!"

In a last-ditch effort to wake him, I crashed into his still body, our lips colliding with one another. Even though I assumed he was close to death, it gave me some closure that I could kiss him for possibly the last time. He was the person that gave me hope in this fight, and I could not be more grateful for him. Words cannot express how grateful I am for the man—the dangerous man—I unknowingly fell for.

In the midst of me crying over his body, I suddenly felt a hand stroking the back of my head gently. It jolted me back to my senses and made me question who or what on Earth came close to me.

"Princess, why are you crying over our victory?" Oberyn asked weakly.

I looked down on him and saw that he wasn't dead. Rather, he was extremely weak. So weak that he was barely conscious. But I was glad he was alive. Overjoyed that he was still here with me.

"Oberyn!" I exclaimed as he and I tightly embraced one another.

I hugged him as tightly as I could, despite knowing about the injuries he's suffered. I didn't care. All I cared about was that Oberyn was alive! And when he was hugging me, I could tell that he was overjoyed by the fact that he was still here. I mean, he had to keep fighting in order to stay alive. For him to die meant that my hopes of living died too.

What was the point of life if Oberyn wasn't alive anymore?

And how could I tell that he was overjoyed? Well, he hugged me tighter than ever, despite his debilitating injuries, and he also kept his hand on the back of my head. I took that as a sign of relief and not wanting to let me go anytime soon.

"We won," he said, wincing in pain. "Son of a bastard, that hurts!"

I looked down on his bloodied abdomen, realizing that he needed help quickly. "Don't worry. I have a solution for that," I said.

That's when I took off a black scarf I had around my neck and wrapped it around Oberyn's abdomen. As I tightened it as tight as I could, not only did Oberyn wince at the pain, but he also seemed shocked that I would do such a thing.

"But, Anaysha. Isn't that your scarf? The one you've had for a long time?" he asked.

"Yeah. I carry it with me whenever I'm in a dangerous situation," I said, "but you're injured. You seem to need aid more than I do. This was the best I could do."

He smirked, which made me become overwhelmed with joy. Even though he was battered, Oberyn still kept true to his cocky self. And that's what made me realize that hope was not dead. It was never dead. 

[deliverred]

Frustration was beginning to bubble up inside Lukas at his own failure to act. He was sturdy, he was immovable, he was cold-- and yet, for all the battles he'd faced back home that had required him to be those things, it had never truly been tested against someone he cared about. Outside of Fernand, his allies had remained as such, and he had never shared the same closeness or bond to the other man that Clive or Mathilda had. Nor had he been forced across the battlefield from family, as Alm had been.

Matthias was not his blood, but they had formed a rather strong bond prior to the war...It seemed it was strong enough to have Lukas failing in the one thing that had always been his greatest strength in the field.

He watches as Matthias swaps out his axe for a lance, adjusting his stance for the next attack to come his way.

"No, I am not, but I see some hope in the future they choose to fight for. Whether I am from the Empire or not, I have offered myself to their cause, and I cannot back out of that pledge in the middle of this conflict."

He had made this choice, and even if he did not fully agree with how it was being achieved, he did see good in Edelgard's vision. The power discrepancy caused by the nobility and their crests was even worse than back in Valentia, so why not seek to change that? Why not make it easier for all involved to choose their own path in life? If they wanted a place of power, they would have to work hard for it, not simply rely on the blood that ran in their family.

Matthias' next charge was fast, and Lukas knew he wouldn't be able to mount any sort of counter so defense was his only option. Shield up and braced for the impact, he was surprised when the other man's lance pierced almost effortlessly through his armor with a crunch of metal; his shield had caught some of the attack, but it hadn't lessened it by much and left his shield damaged as well.

The impact was powerful and likely would have been enough to fell many others, but Lukas was not just any soldier. Pain didn't touch him, so even a wound like this could be fought through until his body failed him for once and all.

The blood that poured from the bent and gaping hole in his armor was hardly noticeable against the red of the armor itself.

"That is not what I said," Lukas frowned, his calm expression finally giving way. "I do not think either of us wanted for this to happen, but it has now, and neither of us can back down. If I die here, then so be it." But he didn't want to die here, did not intend to die here. And should they both survive what was to come, perhaps they would once again be able to share a drink.

"I expect you to do what you must, Matthias."

The other's horse was spurred on once more, but it seemed fatigue from the drawn out battle was beginning to set in. The animal's movements were not as quick or precise, and though it carried forward, something stayed Matthias' hand. Lukas could see it, could have taken the opportunity to unhorse the older man and take away his maneuverability or he could thrust his lance into the beast's chest and remove it from the fight entirely.

And Lukas almost did. He raised his lance up, ready to make his strike as the horse charged -- but his arm shook, from the injury sustained or his own heart turning against him, and he lowered it to back away and out of range for a moment.

This couldn't carry on. One of them needed to go down here, as the messy tides of battle around them were beginning to fade.

"You need to make your choice, Matthias," Lukas spoke up, schooling his expression into neutrality, "You have a son that yet lives, and if you continue to fight against Adrestia, you cannot falter if you want to ensure that he remains breathing. If you do not defeat me here, you know I will do what I must as well. Whatever the cost, however much the blood and pain."

If Matthias would not fight to his fullest, use all his power against Lukas here and now on his own, he would give him a reason to.

home || timeskip au (route: unknown)

[dearsnow]

MONSTER

- ⚠️ LAST EPISODE OF HOTD SPOILERS AHEAD! the tragic happenings surrounding lucerys valeryon spark conflict between you and your dear husband. (aemond targaryen x fem!reader, lots of angst and barely any fluff, might make another part?????)

a/n - i’ve had so much aemond brainrot these past few days omg he is my evil lil boo boo bear

The small slip of paper warps under your shaking fingers, tears slipping their way down your face. Lucerys Valeryon is dead, and the fault lies on your husband.

You were close to the young boy. Rhaenyra had always regarded you as an older sister to him, despite the tensions between her family and your betrothed. You took care of him, played with him, brushed his hair when he was in his “no-hair-brushing” phase, and now it’s all gone.

The lump in your throat scratches your insides as you sob.

“It was not my intention-“

“Fuck if it was your intention, Aemond! You killed him. He was fourteen, just a child. Not only that, but you started a whole damned war.” You think nothing will ever overcome how your throat tightens as you yell, voice much louder than a volume befitting someone in your position. You don’t care though. You care about the boy torn to pieces and cast down onto unfamiliar grounds.

“You’re acting like I did it with my own hands.” He spits.

Your eyes burn with angry tears. “You might as well have. Vhagar is your dragon, or have you forgotten?”

“He took my eye.”

“And you took his life! That is not an equal exchange, not in the eyes of the gods and not in the eyes of me.”

Aemond’s hair is frazzled and he paces around the room like a caged beast, showing an intense display of anger- whether the anger was towards himself or you, you do not know. “I will not be a broken record. I did not mean to kill him. Now will you stop pestering me about it?” The sneer in his voice sounds almost childish, like a toddler crying when they don’t want to leave their playhouse.

“I wish I was never betrothed to you, you fucking monster.” You say, hastily scrubbing the wetness from your eyes. You know how it will hurt him, how it has hurt him in the past. You just can’t bring yourself to take it back.

You did love him. Even “do”, though the warm and fuzzy feeling has no place in your argument. You traced his scar with your fingers and your lips, tangled your fingers in his hair, and laid in his arms when the nights became cold. Every feeling of love, every spark on a dreary day, will be long-wilted until Luke springs back to life and hugs you with a proclamation of “Auntie, I am alive!”. Everything feels so surreal, like he really is waiting just outside the door. Like you and Aemond are the perfect couple, Rhaenyra is the queen, and sunlight filters over warm pastures. Your fantasy world crackles and shatters bit by bit until your knees can’t take standing.

You sit down on the floor and cry.

Aemond is suddenly worried. He has seen you angry, sure, and terribly sad, but it was nothing compared to the desolate state you’re now in. He stops his pacing, eyebrows creasing in the middle.

“My love?”

“Don’t call me that.” Your voice wavers. “I have no love left for you.”

He feels a burning in his gut, like every negative thing he has ever thought about himself is discovered to be true. The grip of sadness on his throat does not cease.

“I’m sorry. I’m… I am regretful. I meant only to scare the boy, but Vhagar took matters into her own hands.” He takes a seat next to you, not worrying about the creases sure to form on his clothes. Despite his efforts to rid himself of it, he carries the burden of care deep in his heart. No amount of training or acting better than others could ever cure him of this ailment.

You’re silent as he slides a hand across your back, movements slightly awkward.

“Do you truly think I am a monster?” He asks, voice cracking towards the middle of his sentence. As always, he didn’t mean to let emotion dictate his tone of voice.

As much as you want to be mad at him, as much as you resent his actions and his family, you gently shake your head. He may be many things, but he is nowhere near as bad as some of the true monsters you have faced in your life. He is just a scorned little boy.

You lean your head into his shoulder, so tired from arguing that you forget your anger. It will come and go. Right now you just need the comfort of another warm body, even if that warm body is the person that started the whole mess in the first place.

Aemond leans back, letting your head slide into his lap.

He may not be a monster to you, not yet anyways, but he knows he has much more to do to win back your heart.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

[mikrowrites]

andromeda

(vignettes cut from cottages of constellations; can be read as a one-shot)

c!wilbur x reader

summary: a series of memories from y/n’s perspective; the war, the death, the stars, the secret, and the meeting.

warnings: fluff, angst, violence, war themes, bad mental health situations, death, language, manipulation

a/n: this is basically a bunch of scrapped ideas from cottages of constellations that i shoved together bc i already had them written and have been hitting a writer’s block with pt 3. the only part of this you should regard as “canon” is the syndicate vignette, that will be in pt 3. enjoy!!

Y/n and Wilbur kept many secrets.

That was not something unknown by any, not a surprise to some. The two seemed to have words unspoken, existing between the glance of an eye or a brush of a hand, a nod of a head and a ever so soft sigh. Y/n and Wilbur kept many secrets to themselves and themselves only.

The cottage was one. A secret kept along a peaceful riverbank, until the price of TNT seemed higher than that forgotten paradise. There were some other secrets too. Some inconsequential, some almost burdening.

Y/n and Wilbur kept a secret they chose to not share with anyone. A secret that would be for the best if left unsaid.

But the price of freedom would prove higher and more demanding. The price for a tall brunette man to whisper the words into an enemy’s ear, for the enemy to relay it to someone who was once deemed an old friend.

The moment Schlatt spoke the secret out loud to Y/n with threatening intent, everything came crashing to the ground.

It was a secret Schlatt would die with.

—

The War…

Y/n arrived as the sun rose at dawn.

Wilbur was there to meet her, his uniform jacket unbuttoned messily and his cravat askew. As she approached him closer he smiled softly, but the smile was tired, aching, the light in his eyes dimmed by the bags beneath them.

What was the saying, “winning is easy, governing is harder”?

Y/n feared both feats were insurmountably difficult.

“Hello, love.” Wilbur sighed, striding the distance of Y/n’s approach and pulling her into his arms, holding her like a lifeline.

“Hey Wil, it’s okay, I’m here.” Y/n reassured.

He pulled away with a less tight smile, wrapping his fingers around her own, pulling her towards the majestic walls.

“Y/n L/n, welcome to L’manburg.”

And L’manburg was small, and undeveloped, and nothing quite impressive really. But it was her lover’s nation, and to Y/n it looked like a spectacle of heaven. “It’s wonderful.”

Wilbur led her into the camaravan, where battle plans and declarations had been hung and placed about, with an occasional empty bottle or a misplaced piece of weaponry.

Y/n had fought in wars before, in another life, far from this server. She had played the part of diplomat, of ally, of enemy. It was all a language familiar to her like breathing, and she suspected Wilbur was well aware, why else would he write begging her to join the front lines?

She hummed in thought, running her hands over a tabletop. “When’s the next battle, then?”

“Tomorrow.” Wilbur replied simply.

Y/n nodded. “Okay. Where do we start?”

Wilbur smiled once more.

—

The Death…

Y/n struggled against Quackity’s hold, screaming her throat raw. “YOU KILLED HIM!”

Smoke from the firework barrage still lingered on the execution box, Schlatt turning from his podium to Y/n. He smirked. “Y/n, my dear, he was a traitor. You know what happens to traitors.”

Y/n spat at his feet, the man laughing. “That’s cute. Remember Y/n, I hold all the cards in my hands. You don’t want to step out of line, remember? Who knows what secrets could get spilled.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Y/n glared, her eyes like fire as the two stood off against each other on the podium under Manberg’s watching eyes. “Because I am going to fucking kill you before you even think about it.”

Schlatt laughed loudly again, facing the crowd. “Do you hear that, folks? Miss Y/n is going to kill me!” He lowered his voice, leaning so he was face to face with her. “That’s treason, my friends.”

Y/n hardened her eyes, as Quackity let her arms go. She stepped forwards, her hand on the hilt of her sheathed sword. Everything was quiet, not the crowd’s jabs or cries were heard by her, not even Niki’s protests to spare her best friend.

Schlatt smiled, unsheathing his own sword as Y/n stood her ground, preparing to produce her own in hopes of taking down the tyrannical man once and for all.

“These were not the ideals of L’manberg.” Y/n shouted so the audience could hear her. “And Manberg should be no different. And I’m getting really fucking tired of you hurting everyone and everything I love. So yeah, I’m a traitor, because I value people over a country.”

“People you’d be willing to lose a life for?” Schlatt jeered.

“Time and time again, yes.” She verified.

Schlatt shook his head in amusement. “Y/n, the patron saint of L’manberg. You’ll fall as easily as any man.”

Y/n smirked, drawing her own sword. “Good thing I’m not a man then, yes?”

“STOP! Stop!”

The two adversaries’ heads whipped over, catching the glimpse of a tall brunette in a brown trench coat walking down the aisle of seats, hands out in a preventative gesture. “Stop.”

“Wil…?” The man who left her behind. The man who promised safety. The man who most importantly, loves her. The former President, to protect his former First Lady.

Schlatt’s sword ran through Y/n’s body. Wilbur screamed.

The girl gasped, grasping Schlatt’s shoulder’s with tight fingers, looking at him in shock. He had gotten the upper hand. Y/n had never lost a duel, yet this one was over before it had even started because she did the one thing she had been trained to never do in battle.

Y/n found distraction in a lover.

Wilbur would always be her hubris.

Schlatt leaned over with booze-tainted breath to whisper in her ear. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He then ripped the sword out of her, and everything went black. The last thing Y/n heard before waking up laying in the soft grass of a forest was the sound of Wilbur shouting her name.

Y/n was killed by JSchlatt

—

The Stars…

Long ago, in a world different from where she was now, Y/n’s mother had taught her every constellation strewn across the night sky. The young girl would marvel at her mother, eyes shining with curiosity and awe as the soft-spoken woman would point to each cluster of stars.

Life was simple then, before war after war Y/n was forced to fight and win. Before aching loss and hurt.

Y/n laid on the angled roof of Philza’s house, her lips parted slightly as her eyes traced designs of warriors and beasts and lovers. Her breath fogged into the night sky, the girl indifferent to the cold surrounding her.

“Kid, what’re ya doin’?”

She flicked her eyes down to where Technoblade stood beneath her, staring up at her form with disinterest but yet a glint of confusion or curiosity.

Y/n smirked, her eyes traveling back up to the sky. “Chasing constellations.”

Technoblade definitely had the right idea to be a tint worried at the sight of Y/n on a roof, staring off into nothing. It had been a week and a half since they had both blown up New L’manberg, and her mind was undoubtedly conflicted. Techno supposed if he were in the same situation, he’d feel the same perhaps. But now (though he’d never show it) he was just concerned of the well-being of his old friend.

So Technoblade was immensely surprised when Y/n patted a spot on the roof next to her and said: “cmon”.

The blood god was silent and still for a moment before pulling out his trident, using it to launch himself up and land gracefully onto the roof next to her. The girl didn’t flinch a bit, just turned back to the night sky.

Y/n looked tired, Techno noticed, but yet relieved. He hadn’t seen her this relaxed since their last war fought together away from this server, where she had spoken of a kindhearted brunette she was running away with after the battle’s conclusion.

Technoblade sat next to her, the girl sighing. “No more wars, Techno. I’ve fought my last one. I’m tired of being a pawn in someone’s game, of breaking myself for others.” Y/n huffed out a laugh. “I think I might try that retirement plan.”

“Retirement is overrated.” Technoblade groaned. “So if I made you an offer, you’d refuse?”

Y/n shrugged, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her kneecaps. “Depends on the offer. I’m pretty done being taken advantage of.”

Techno turned to look at her. “All these years and you don’t trust the proof I wouldn’t.”

“Can’t blame a girl for having trust issues.” She grumbled. “What’s the offer?”

“I’m putting together a group of people with common ideals. Anarchy, we’d be there to abolish these kingdoms’ governments before they can cause more death and destruction, cause more Wilburs.” Techno explained, the girl turning to him at the sound of her ex-lover’s name. “We’re called the Syndicate.”

Y/n murmured the name to herself, furrowing her eyebrows. “Who’s we?”

“Philza and I. Zephyrus and Prostileus. And, potentially, you.” He stated. “Codenames.”

She turned back to the stars, silent for a few minutes. Technoblade patiently sat in the quiet, letting the girl mull over her thoughts. It had been about five minutes when he spoke up. “So? What’ll it be?”

Y/n pursed her lips, before parting them with a soft exhale. “Andromeda… call me Andromeda.”

Technoblade smiled at his old comrade in battle, now considered an ally and friend.

“Welcome to the Syndicate, Andromeda.”

—

The Secret…

Y/n wasn’t sure how long she had sat in the makeshift cell. Had it been days? Weeks? She didn’t know. All she knew was locked away to stand trial for “aiding fugitives in escaping”.

Her thoughts drifted to Wilbur, as they usually did in moments like these, where she fought desperately to remember the sound of his laughter or his loving assurances. Y/n hoped he and Tommy were safe, and she knew they were smart so they would be.

But she feared for Fundy as well. They had spoken on the night he announced his campaign for president, their hushed voices behind the podium as the rest of the server were asleep.

Y/n met the boy in the shadows of the podium, Fundy looking at her for some kind of reaction. Would she shout in anger? Cry in sadness? Running against his father was a betrayal, he should be reprimanded by the closest thing to a mother he had.

Instead, she smiled, and hugged him.

Fundy tensed in surprise before wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder as his hands clutched the back of her jacket.

“You know I have to support and stand by your father,” she started, softly rubbing small circles into Fundy’s back. “but it will never overshadow how proud I am of you.”

“Thank you, mama.” He sighed out, Y/n smiling kindly.

“You are my pride and you are my joy, Fundy. There’s nothing you could do that could make me love you less. Don’t forget that, okay?” Y/n asked.

Fundy nodded his head against his mother figure’s shoulder, still embracing her.

He missed the tears in her eyes as she bit her lip to keep her walls up. Indulging in this moment wasn’t something she was deserving of, and she knew that.

She had chosen to forego this path, it would be unfair of her to try and act as though she hadn’t changed everything.

The door to empty room creaked open, Y/n looking up to meet the eyes of a man she had once thought of as an old friend, but now some who repulsed her more than anything on this server. The man smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Y/n. Long time, no see.”

“Schlatt.” The name sounded like venom on her tongue, Y/n glaring at the man with dark eyes.

“How are you, hm?” Schlatt pulled a chair over for him to sit on, Y/n scoffing in disbelief.

“I don’t know Schlatt, you tell me. What the fuck is wrong with you, you were our friend!” She shouted.

Schlatt sat back in his hair. “I’m no one’s friend here. I’m a president here to run this country.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall, the man smirking.

“I want you to join me.”

That made the girl start to laugh, shaking her head. “You are something else, Schlatt.”

“I’m serious, I want you to join me and Manberg.” Schlatt deadpanned.

“Fuck off.” was Y/n’s reply.

Schlatt sighed, standing from where he sat, and paced to another side of the room. “Tell me, does your little lover boy have an infatuation with TNT?”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “Not that I’m aware, and if I was I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Fair enough.” Schlatt said, his footsteps clacking against stone as he further paced. “Well, he recently made some deals with the devil and came into possession of a lot of fucking TNT. You wanna know what he traded for that much power? Secrets.”

She stiffened, eyeing Schlatt warily, her voice barely above a whisper. “Secrets?”

Schlatt hummed, grinning. “Oh yeah. Loads of ‘em. I’m a chronic eavesdropper, so I had to get the scoop. And you’ll never guess what I heard.”

Y/n stood slowly, like an animal bracing for a fight, her fists shaking. She uttered the man’s name in warning, Schlatt stopping and turning to her with a wicked grin.

“You have a child.”

It felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, Y/n momentarily forgetting how to breathe. Her mouth felt dry, her body numb. Schlatt laughed, knowing he had her right where he wanted her.

“Fundy’s actually your son! Biologically and everything! And you never told him, you just left!” Schlatt exclaimed.

Y/n burst forwards, slamming Schlatt against the wall and lodging her forearm across his throat. She spoke with a low, dangerous voice. “I was young. I was stupid. And I wasn’t ready to be a mother. I couldn’t be the mother he needed.”

“So you left. And then you come back and you play the part of his mother, while the poor boy thinks your lover fucked a fish? That’s fucked up, Y/n.” He chuckled lowly.

Y/n pursed her lips, glaring into Schlatt’s eyes. “What do you want?”

Schlatt slowly removed Y/n’s forearm from his throat. “I want you to join me as one of my officials. I want you to betray Wilbur and Tommy. And if you don’t…”

“… I tell Fundy your big secret… and then I personally kill him until he’s dead.”

Y/n felt completely and absolutely defeated. She had never let someone have the upper hand on her. Not like this. She remained distraughtly silent, Schlatt nodding Ashe received his answer.

He reached into his pocket, throwing her comm device onto the floor. “Lover boy’s been trying to call you for weeks. You should call him back one last time and tell him to never call again. You know what’s at stake.” Schlatt then turned and walked towards the door. “I’ll have a fine pressed suit for you tomorrow morning and a more comfortable room, then the real work begins. Goodnight, Y/n.”

And he was gone.

Y/n fell to her knees, her body shaking with fear and guilt. Why did she have to be so stupid why did she have to create such deep-sewn weaknesses, why did she leave her son?

She reached for the comms device, her trembling fingers clicking a button as she spoke out in a terrified whisper. “Wilbur?”

—

The meeting…

Y/n hated parties with a passion she could not fathom. The celebration of another war won, a country saved. She was just a wandering soldier, moving from one battle to the next, finding celebration a little tone-deaf.

But nonetheless she stood in the banquet hall, her sash of medals and patches detailing her great accomplishments hung on her frame, with the world’s most uncomfortable dress covering her. Technoblade had told Y/n to liven up, drink and dance a little, though what a fucking hypocrite because he didn’t show up.

Y/n sipped her champagne, leaning against the bar top, a bored expression laid across her face as she traced circles into the wood with her finger. She didn’t register the boy standing next to her, eying her with curiosity before he spoke up. “One vodka neat, please.”

She finally indulged to meet his gaze, the tall brunette smiling and offering his hand. “Wilbur Soot.”

Y/n knocked back the rest of her champagne, before shaking his hand. “Y/n L/n.”

“You seem bored, Y/n L/n.” Wilbur observed.

She scoffed. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“So I can tell.” He quipped, Y/n beginning to question the audacity of this kid. But he just smiled widely, pulling a stool and sitting next to her.

“Look, I don’t know what you want, but if it’s getting in my pants tonight it’s definitely not happening.” Y/n bluntly responded.

“Woah there! Take me out to dinner before we discuss that.” Wilbur defended, retrieving his drink from the bartender.

Y/n couldn’t even tell if the man was joking, but she rolled her eyes anyways. He was silent, she could tell he was trying to size her up. Figure out what made her brain tick, how to read her.

Must be frustrating for him to know he can’t.

She sighed, pulling away from the bar top, smoothing out her despised dress. “Well, thanks for the chat Wilbur, but I’d best be going.”

“Of course. Have a good night, Y/n.” Wilbur raised his drink and tipped it towards her in a kind of toasting or saluting gesture. She was a high ranked militia official anyways.

Y/n nodded and walked away, Wilbur watching her as she left. What she didn’t know, was he could read her like an open book. He saw her pain, her guilt, her stone disposition. But he saw her kindness, her generosity, her beauty. Wilbur was intoxicated by the mere presence of her, and her mystery.

Wilbur just had a gut feeling they’d cross paths again. And when they did, maybe in a space she was more comfortable than the loud and cheering party, maybe he’d offer her a drink, or even a dance. The boy slammed his drink on the table before standing, and rushing across the room.

Why wait when you know?

Y/n felt a gentle hand on her wrist, the girl turning to see Wilbur. She raised an eyebrow in question as he released his soft grip, and held his palm flat out in front of her. “May I have this dance.”

She had seen years of pretty boys offering her drinks and dances and the world. Each disappointed, each never following through. But Y/n looked up at Wilbur, and she could see the world in his brown eyes, she could see hope and chivalry and mirth. She pursed her lips, the boy seeming to deflate at her monotone and silent response.

Y/n took his hand, to the boy’s surprise. “One dance. That’s all.”

They danced all night. And laughed all night, more than Y/n had in years.

Y/n had never felt more alive than the night she met Wilbur Soot.

[gingermintpepper]

Gloxinia and Meliodas' First Meeting.

Time Period: Sometime during the Holy War

»»————-　♔　————-««

He remembers the Lord of the Faefolk.

Elizabeth lays limp in his arms.

The world explodes around him, typhoon’s cacophonous touch laying waste to the landscape but he does not feel the slice of the wind. Raindrops pierce through the clouds, bullets of water that seem to attack the thin veil of his cloak but he cares not for them. All he knows is the gellid flesh pressed against his chest, the drooping wings whose feathers seem to swell with water, bright white eyelashes slack from exhaustion, delicate eyebrows devoid of that determined furrow.

He’s running out of options, had gravely miscalculated during his battle with Calmadios and now was left without a place to return to, without a roof with which to weather this storm under. He had no place where Elizabeth could rest and recuperate from her wounds.

Even amongst the wanton destruction Meliodas had wrought in his time in the physical realm, the memory stands stark in the backdrop of his mind. A routine perimeter sweep after they had managed to gain new territory from beating back the Goddess Clan in the south. The normal agenda after such events - visiting the human nests, establishing the new order, weeding out dissenters and surviving pests, setting up scouts; it was all necessary yet monotonous activity so no one particularly fancied running such errands. It was only because Meliodas had drawn the short lot that he had to do the grunt work himself.

He hadn’t expected to find Fairies in the human nest, small creatures with their delicate wings healing humans and helping repair their odd little hutches. He’d not so much as heard about encounters with Fairies since coming into the realm - only knew of the whispers of the so-called Fairy King’s Forest and the great magic that was contained within. Meliodas thought it all nothing more than the mangled stories of drunk demons. He hadn’t felt any significant magic in the physical realm besides the heavy cloud that was the bestial Giant Clan and so he had dismissed even the notion of Fairies as such.

Yet there they were, smaller than even him in their diminutive stature, little faces scrunched in joy and determination even as the nest around them was razed and half ablaze.

And so Meliodas thought, ‘If the Fae are real, then surely their King is no illusion either.’

Zeldris must have heard by now he thinks. Would know that he made good on his word to abandon their people for the sake of Elizabeth and, ultimately, for ending this useless conflict.

Was he laughing at him? Was he gleefully watching his heinous older brother suffer for choosing a lover over the future of their clan only to immediately lose her to his pride? Meliodas alone had made the decision to defect while surrounded by his troops and three Commandments. His confidence in his strength had cost him dearly, but with Elizabeth at his back, he had felt invincible.

The rain continues to pour around them, but Meliodas cannot feel its freezing touch. Elizabeth’s warm blood is beginning to seep through her clothes. He doesn’t want to hold her tighter, fears that squeezing her will only make her bleed out faster. What good is his strength if he cannot help those most important to him in their times of need?

Lightning tears the sky asunder, thunder racing so close to its heel that the world around him seems to quake. He’ll have to land - he can’t risk attracting the bolts with Elizabeth in his grip. He is a demon but he can’t help but pray.

Prays that the chill descending on Elizabeth’s skin is only the rain. Prays that Zeldris finds some way to end the conflict too. Prays that he hasn’t ruined the only thing that could save Elizabeth’s life.

It surprises him even now. The ease with which the Fairies revealed the location of their home to him. Meliodas was quite aware that they knew him to be a demon. Even without knowledge of the rank or class that he occupied, his magic alone was nothing but purest, deepest black - yet, even as they trembled with their breaths caught in their throats and their little fingers halted in their actions, they dutifully told him what it was he wanted to know.

He remembers thinking then that the Fairies were a weak bunch - that they were a naive people who surely teetered on the brink of extinction for the easily exploitable trust they so readily gave.

Then came the fog.

He’s not surprised that even during this tempest, the fog is thick.

The last time he entered, the mist showed him illusions that confounded him for hours. The road disappeared beneath him, he’d ended up on a mountain and then at a lake and throughout it all quiet laughter echoed in his ear, disorienting him. Angering him.

Today there is only the quiet of deep, deep fog and the dampened splashing of rain as it struggles to cut through haze.

Meliodas lands on the muddy ground and takes off sprinting. He slips in an errant puddle, the ground slick and treacherous but even then he does not let go of Elizabeth. The air’s knocked from his lungs as he lands on his back. His shoulder burns but he cannot heal himself. He does not know what effect his miasma would have on Elizabeth in this weakened state. He does not want to find out. With trembling fingers, he adjusts her, frowns as the muscles beneath her fair skin refuse to twitch even when he lets his touch linger on the plush flesh of her lips, her cheek, the puncture in her stomach which gushes, gushes, and was he always able to glimpse the pink of her stomach? Was it wrong that he found that healthy colour as beautiful as the rest of her? But her skin is cold, cold too cold and her blood runs hot and Meliodas curses even the rains, roars his frustration so the lord of the lands knows that he is in no mood for games.

“Gloxinia!”

A part of him wondered if the Fairies had conned him; if they had only pretended to be shy things and had taken the opportunity to lead him to his death instead of guiding him to the Forest like they claimed they would. He’d think much higher of them if that was the case.

As it stands, Meliodas only wishes to tear the heads from their breakable bodies for the tasteless jest. Already, he’d found himself at the bottom of a lake, in which swimming in any direction only dragged him further down, a mountain trail which had led to him being apparently attacked by some manner of beast and a desert which stretched for so many hours that Meliodas had begun to sweat through the leathers of his gear. Terrible caterwauling the likes he had only heard in the deepest annals of the Underworld dogged his steps, and when the screeching stopped, the laughing began.

In each direction he was met with nothing but a wall of fog so thick that he could not even see the colour of his shoes and with each step without a discernible goal in sight, his resentment only grew.

And then, oddly, he caught the strong smell of flowers.

An unmistakable flash of red like spider lilies blooms in the corner of his periphery.

The tumultuous rain quiets to a mere whisper and the fog dissipates leaving only a dew laden field of bright, bright flowers.

The Fairy King is no less spectacular the second time around, celestial wings aglow with multicoloured magic which seems to glitter even in the midst of this gloomy, terrible squall. He stands with his hands at his side, thin lips pressed into a fine line. He is unarmed, alone. Unimpressed.

“You have returned,” he says dully and Meliodas does not have time to be offended at the lack of respect.

He tightens his grip on Elizabeth’s thigh, does his best to keep from snarling. “Heal her!”

A perfect eyebrow threatens to scrape scarlet hairline. “I beg your pardon?”

Meliodas growls, refuses to rest Elizabeth against the forest floor yet cannot risk jostling her for the sake of emphasis, “She hurt herself protecting me. I want you to heal her.”

Gloxinia’s neutral expression becomes a faintly bemused smile. “Is that a request or a threat, Demon Lord?”

Meliodas glares (and Elizabeth is growing cold in his grip, cold, cold, he is running out of time-) “Both, Fairy.”

The fog begins to creep in not unlike storm clouds on the placid horizon. The sound of thunder begins to descend upon them, red and purple flower buds disappearing beneath the cloak of the Fairy King’s enchanted mist. The fae smiles and it is a cold, cruel thing which sits comfortably on cherubic features, “Then I bid you farewell.”

Meliodas feels the wrath overflow, feels it in the way his vision goes black at the edges, in the way he can hear Elizabeth’s failing heartbeat. Anger at Gloxinia for refusing him, for dooming Elizabeth to death. Anger at himself for being unable to protect her, for failing her, “I will raze this forest to the ground, Gloxinia! Help her or I will slaughter every one of your kind!”

And that despicable Fairy only looks down at him, golden eyes more damning than any bolt of heavenly lightning, “It matters not, Demon Lord, she will already be dead.”

Then he is alone.

Elizabeth’s heartbeat grows so frail that Meliodas cannot hear it over the rain that has rushed in. Fog blinds his eyes, anger stifles his mind and the breaks and creaks in his bones finally overwhelm him. He crumples, mud splattering all over Elizabeth’s once white battle silks. She will die. She will die and it will have been his fault. Is this how Zeldris felt he wonders? This despair - this deep, gaping emptiness as the warmth of his lover cools to ice beneath his numb fingers.

Meliodas has never cried. It is a foreign concept to one as high born as he but his heart sinks to his stomach and threatens to slip free from his chest altogether. He bends his head, furrows his brows, squeezes Elizabeth’s flesh as he listens to her slowing heart.

‘Please,’ he wants to whisper. ‘Please, please have mercy on a sinner. Just this once.’

A pungent scent like foreign herbs fills his nose -

“[Droplet of Life]”

There is a glow, some bright unfathomable light and Meliodas sits up like he’s been burnt. Elizabeth’s heart suddenly beats in her chest, loud and melodic and it is the sweetest sound Meliodas has heard in years. He looks up to find cold eyes looking down on him, the Fairy King’s red hair spilling over his shoulders like reeds against some sheer cliffside.

He frowns, squints at Meliodas then appraises Elizabeth. Without so much as another word, he straightens himself and makes a gesture with two of his fingers. The fog lifts entirely, revealing a twisted up pathway between massive, primordial boughs. Flowers of every specie litter the ground preceding the entryway and Gloxinia turns his back on them. “Spend the night here,” he says and though Meliodas twitches at the unmistakable authority in that light voice, his gratitude and surprise renders him mute. “This storm will rage for four days and five nights. Regain your strength then leave.”

And then he disappears into the forest, leaving Meliodas and Elizabeth in the stillness of his eden.

[capri-ramblings]

Ooh requests are open! Can I request some headcanons on how the yandere octavinelle trio + Malleus and Lilia would react to their s/o being poisoned and afflicted with sleeping death where the only cure is true loves kiss? And surprisingly, their s/o actually wakes up afterwards.

Excuse me,yansweet, how dare you have such a deliciously well thought idea? I didn't do Azul and Floyd because they ended up a bit too similar with Jade though,so I hope you don't mind! 💖💖

Please Refer to Pinned Post. [This post was set on cued!]

[ True love's kiss? ]

Malleus Draconia

- Malleus is furious at first.

- He's blundering the halls of his castle when he hears of the misfortune cursed onto you

- How dare anyone lay their hands on you? And who were the fools who were so incompetent to allow it in the first place?

- This Fae King is ready to tear down the walls of his ancestral home until Lilia comes to soothe his anger, reminding him that if it was a curse begotten by another other than himself that there would be a cure for it no doubt.

- So,he simmers down. Compels himself to unsheath his claws and fury for another day.

- For now, he must go see you

- He smiles lightly when he does; The mere figure of you laid atop his bed in what seemed to be a deep slumber dousing his rage of fire.

- What an odd feeling he has when you are present. This gentleness that you evoke in his core is something Malleus believes no other being could give him.

- You are his special bride. His soulmate.

- "A true love's kiss" He murmurs underneath his breath, earning glances from both Lilia and Silver as they stood on each of his sides.

- Malleus considers this notion thoughtfully, wondering if he'd be able to do so for he wasn't a fool (though he felt he was one for your love) and he was aware of how stoic and reserved you had been with him despite the closeness he's tried to build with you.

- If he had kissed you then and you remained asleep. It would shatter a great deal of both his pride and heart.

- How would he cope with such a rejection?

- Truly,if he couldn't have you then no one else would have the chance to be.

- But if he did not attempt this then you'd remain asleep forever, and that seemed a fate worst than death or rejection.

- For then you'd be further away from him. You would have your freedom,your peace and he would be left with just a remnant of your existence.

- No, Malleus didn't want that.

- He wanted you, your soul,your laugh. He wanted to see the glistening of life kindling in your eyes, the sound of your voice cooing in his ears.

- If you remained in deep slumber, he would have none of this

- And he'd go mad.

- The world would matter not to him.

- If you demanded a kiss to awaken, he will give it to you. And if you refused him, he would litter your body with each mark of affection he has to offer.

- For if the Fates denied him your love , he would deny the world of peace.

- "Leave."

- The words were an order,drawled out with enough demand that Lilia and Silver didn't spare a second to obey.

- Malleus strode to his bed and allowed his gaze to drink the sight of your serene beauty bared before him, the way the light sprites lingered around you reminding him of a star he saw when he was younger.

- He wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to have him. If you could find it in your heart to accept his twisted one.

- Surely, a life encased in a dream was far from what you wanted as well?

- He knew you always had a spirit for living, and that by keeping you at his side Malleus had taken that away from you.

- But he'd promise to not repeat his mistakes.

- He'd allow you the freedom you so wished for so long as you accepted him as your one and only.

- Your true love. That's what he wanted.

- Malleus takes the place beside you, his weight causing the bed to sink ever so slightly as he leaned down to your face.

- Your subtle scent of flowers and grass greeting his senses almost immediately.

- "Be mine" He cooed,coaxed. Voice as gentle as a summer's breeze, a yearning song from the woods. "And I will give you the world."

- His lips presses onto yours gently and without a hint of greed in it. The sensation of being ruffled by the wind causing Malleus to furrow his brows before he loosened his body and deepened the kiss.

- Once he pulled away and your eyes remained shut, Malleus gripped the sheets. Expression feral, like a wounded beast.

- But then, your chest heaved a fraction more than it did before and Malleus watched in awe as your eyelids began to flutter open and your lips parted in a silent murmur.

- "___?" Your name leaves him breathless as it slips from his mouth and you turn your head in his direction.

- The glazed look in your gaze slowly regaining its composure the longer you lingered on his expression.

- "Malleus..." You called,soft and gentle it has him craning his head over you like a shrine to be worshipped. His hands gathering yours as he lifts them up to his lips where he lets it linger on your skin.

- "Malleus,I...I was asleep..."

- "Cursed,my raven." Malleus cut in, the hint of aggression he held before returning. "Someone had cursed you into an eternal sleep"

- Your expression shifted,from dazed to disbelief as you looked around the room before returning to Malleus's grief stricken form.

- "Eternity didn't seem to change much of your room."

- Malleus's eyes widened.

- Then,he laughed at you for that. A sound so broken and worn,you had trouble believing it came from the very same Fae who you knew to be cold and proud.

- "You didn't reached an eternity yet. I broke the curse." He said, and you tilted your head.

- "How?" The question was a quiet one, as if you didn't want to stir up the silence in the room.

- Malleus looked you straight in the eyes then. Gaze still and unwavering.

- "With a kiss." He said "A true love's kiss."

- And if that didn't answer his pleas, then perhaps, you could tell him yourself. For now, he knew the Fates were on his side and nothing you say would make him think otherwise.

Jade Leech

- Jade is livid.

- The very seams of control and patience he's paid attention to uphold slips through his facade like sand and his fists feel cold.

- The rush of aggression coursing through his veins then makes him see red as he strides his way to you.

- Floyd and Azul are waiting on him there, each standing at either side of your bed. He wants to tell them off for it, to bare his jaws and tell them that he didn't need anyone to play nurse for you.

- He knows it's unreasonable to act in such a way but he can't help it.

- All that meticulous planning to keep you from others reach, wasted.

- And it's entirely your fault,isn't it? You and your stubborn will to slither away from your one and only. The ungratefulness has Jade seething with more rage than he could ever contain.

- If only you'd stay put and not run off...This wouldn't be happening. You wouldn't be hit by that curse and Jade wouldn't need to wrack his brain for a solution to this mess.

- His wrath is silent though. Not a single word escapes him as he takes in the sight of your sleeping figure.

- Floyd makes a chide comment about it, ignoring the harsh glower in Jade's eyes but ultimately saved by Azul who seemed able to read the mood and divert the topic towards another.

- It takes days for them to figure out the cure for your curse but even when it's laid on the table before him, Jade finds himself frowning.

- A true love's kiss? What kind of childish fantasy was this? How could a curse strong enough to keep you asleep for an eternity be broken by a mere kiss?

- Surely this was some sort of joke. Jade turns to Azul for another possibility, but the Octo-Mer simply shakes his head.

- Jade involuntarily clicks his tongue, something he rarely does so openly but he thanks Azul for the information and asks to be left alone.

- He doesn't need anyone telling him the consequences if his kiss doesn't stir you awake.

- Then again, if he doesn't at least attempt to do anything, you'd remained unconscious and that was practically a death sentence wasn't it?

- Jade applauds you for making him internally conflicted. The fact that you alone could make him want to tear apart the world was no small feat after all.

- He somehow feels entitled to answer this ridiculous demand of yours, seeing that if he does wakes you up then it will be something he'll use against you

- Because if Jade breaks the curse it means you and him were meant to be, and he'd have the proof for it.

- So,he swallows his rage and he leans down to kiss you.

- In that moment where you actually stir awake and let out this almost pained gasp, Jade finds himself staring at you in awe.

- The very chains of his possessiveness coiling around you as his thoughts gathered together in one single notion of acceptance.

- He was your true love's kiss.

- How fascinating. How rewarding.

- Safe to say after this little event, Jade's primal aggression over you heightens to a frightening degree. Though oddly enough, he lets you do whatever you wished, going as far as allowing you to live away from him.

- And this is because, Jade has the full assurance that no matter how far a distance you placed between you and him or how harsh you acted towards his affection, it doesn't change the fact that if you were to fall into a deep slumber, the only one to pull you out from it is none other than Jade himself.

Lilia Vanrouge

- Lilia's temper simmers but he isn't entirely mad enough to start a war.

- No,he's a patient man and one with boundless knowledge.

- He's quick to identify the curse as a traditional sleeping curse and finds the cure for it rather amusing.

- He doesn't know if he's your so called true love, knowing very well that the relationship he's put you in is one similar to eternal confinement, but his heart flutters at the thought of you waking up because of his kiss, even if he knows it will never happen.

- Lilia is enamored by you, so much that he's taken note of every single aspect of your life. From your lineage to the people you linger about with to that boy you've always been in love with ever since your childhood years.

- You can't really hide anything from him, can you?

- He wonders if he can cheat the little curse with a transfiguration spell but then laughs at himself for such naive thinking.

- Instead, he sings you songs, every night. Not lullabies or love poems, but songs of ancient Faes. The kind that spins humans into a web of submission both body and soul.

- Oh,he knows he isn't your true love but he could be the one you can't live without, and that's all the same for Lilia.

- The song weakens the spirit of a human, and in turn the body itself, and a curse will only last for either a certain amount of time or until the one afflicted by it is dead. So, Lilia pushes you into a near death state, lulling your senses so dangerously low until you're pale as death and he can barely hear your heartbeat.

- Then seconds before you die, he cuts the curse off and reverse the song, healing you completely. It's a flawless plan yet risky if not handled by the right hands. Lilia smiles at his success, and that smile broadens when he leans down to kiss you, minutes before you stir awake and find that the person you lifted your curse was none other than Lilia himself.

- You're confused, but relieved. You hadn't remembered how you were placed under such spell but you remember the death-like state you felt, the way your body seemed to grow weaker each passing day you kept your eyes shut, but then as immediately as it happened, the heavy burden disappears and is replaced by the most soothing sensation you've ever experienced.

- And it's all because Lilia kissed you?

- You couldn't actually believe it, but how do you doubt something that felt as gentle as the lips that saved you?

- Perhaps, you've misjudged him. Suddenly,Lilia didn't seem all that hard to love.

[luna-paradoxz]

How to take care of a tired Qilin.

Summary - When Ganyu is super tired she turns into a small, fluffy and super cute qilin and obviously it is up to Xiao to take care of her. 

A/N - You can ready it on FF.net and Ao3. You can support me on Ko-fi or commission me.

Ganyu normally is stable, she can easily control and regulate her forms but there are times when she can't. Today she was tired, very tired, work after the rite of parting had taken a toll on her and when she had finally decided to take rest her body had decided she needs proper rest.

Xiao finds a sleeping qilin under the canopy of trees in Jeyuen Krast where he had come to take care of some work. The small size, the beautiful cold blue fur had given up who the qilin was. He sighed as he shook his head, she had worked herself up to half-death again.

Xiao jumped up to the cliffs and collected the Qingxin flowers that had bloomed there. It took him only 20 mins before he jumped back to where she was and made way to her sleeping form. It has been ages since he has last seen her transform. He sits beside her and carefully starts stroking her very soft fur. She moves then snuggles under his hand and goes back to sleep. For an hour they stay like that, in peace as he enjoys slowly stroking her head and listening to her make small sounds of approval in her sleep.

An hour later her clear pink eyes open and she yawned cutely. She tried to stretch but that was when she noticed a weird thing, her hands were well, not where she expected and felt too small. She blinked her eyes, looked down in surprise, the ground was far too close, her skin was too hot and when she moved her hands she could feel the fur. She took a deep breath and when she looked up, Xiao - who had stopped stroking her fur - stared back at her. His golden eyes met hers and she noticed how big he looked to her right now. She looked down and asked the question she already knew the answer to.

"I turned into my illuminated beast form didn't I?" She sighs as she asks.

He nodded, "You were already changed when I came here." He then crosses his hands, "You should have been careful, you know considering how vulnerable you can be in this form?"

She tries to pout but her mouth is small so it doesn't quite come out the same way still he gets it as he watches her huff cutely "I didn't think I would turn here so suddenly or I would not have come to forests today." She says while looking away and he silently agrees with the voice that says, she is super cute.

He sighs though and instead states "Well today there is some disturbance here, I have cleared it for now but you should go back to the harbour." Ganyu nods, close her eyes and utters the words to change back but when she opens her eyes she is still in her qilin form. With puppy eyes, she looks up to Xiao who shakes his head.

"I have told you when the mind is troubled or tired your body will reflect that." He is scolding her but his voice is kind. She looks down, her little form shaking as she looked like she was going to cry. He looks away feeling a little guilty so he sighs, puts away the issue for now and instead gently picks her up and puts her on his shoulder but that surprises her and she desperately clings to his clothes as she sighs in relief and turns to him pouting.

He explains, "Come on, I will take you to Cloud Retainer, you can take proper rest there." She smiles as she thanks him, he nods at her and asks her to hold him properly. He crunches down and jumps while keeping a gentle hand on her so she doesn't fall off. They jump through the cliffs as he finally reaches the Adeptus abode and stops in front of the long-forgotten stone table. He puts her down on the table where once three sat and took up to call the Adeptus out but no answer was given back to him. He calls out again and then sighs, Ganyu's face falls.

"Looks like she is out." He states the obvious and turns to her while crossing his hands, "What do you want to do now?"

She lets out another cute sigh and takes the forests in, near abode most monsters won't come but who knows how long it will take for Cloud Retainer to come back, at times she would just disappear to try her hand on her new inventions and with no sense of time, she would return days or months later. Surely, she will eventually come back but still, she might as well starve here with no food. She looks up to him, and gives him puppy eyes as she says,

"I can't go back to the harbour, can we head back to your place?" The 'no' was screaming in him but Xiao was not the kind of person who would just leave her here to starve, so, with great conflict (not really), he gave a conflicted sigh and picked her up again and put her on his shoulder. He makes sure she is stable before he moves again. It takes a bit longer but he jumps them down and finally reaches the Washung inn. He heads straight into his room and puts her down on his bed.

She smiles at him, "I am sorry Xiao for the trouble and thank you for helping me."

He silently rolled his eyes and says "I am not going to leave you alone in the wild while you are so weak." She winces but thanks him nonetheless, he sits down near her.

"What do you want to do now?" She looks around to his almost dark room, only lit by a single candle, it was filled with basic furniture and his weapons, nothing more.

She knew that was Xiao's style, she looks up to him and says "I have no work with me so I really have nothing to do right now." He looks down and puts a hand on her head and pushes her gently into the bed.

"Go to sleep, you need that." She looks panicked, not used to resting so much but Xiao glares at her as he lifts his hand and all but commands, "This all happened because you didn't rest, you need to take rest while you can." She whimpers as she nods and with that curls around and lays down, she still stares at him with an eye open and he sighs. He forcefully ignores the screams in his mind about how cute she is and says "I have more work to do so I am leaving, don't leave the room until I am back." He pats her once before he gets up and makes sure the door is closed and goes out and heads to Guili plains to slay more demons. She falls into sleep soon after he leaves as the salty smell of Dihua Marsh fills the room and the chirps of birds just outside. She feels nostalgic for the old centuries and falls into sleep.

He comes back silently as he walks in with airy steps and looks into the darkness to see the qilin sleeping soundly. She was breathing lightly, her mouth open with small snores that he did find cute even if he will never say it out loud. Just like before she was sound asleep so he decided to leave her and headed upstairs to the roof. He sat there below the tree as he looked over Dihua Marsh and took in the wind, he closes his eyes and rests against the bark, slowly examining his wounds today. They were not bad, just a few scratches and bruises so he was sure they will heal up in no time. He watches the clouds drift apart, the silence and the time passing doesn't matter to him. As an Adeptus, he was used to having time pass by him and it did until he came to attention when a certain qilin entered the roof. She looked up to the moon before she looked around trying to find him, it was late in the night so no humans had yet encountered her. As he got up to jump down, a certain manager came in. Ver Goldet came up to the roof, obviously surprised as she took the little Adeptus in, she crouched down and Xiao jumped down in front of them. She looked up and imminently bowed.

"Oh, Xiao-sama I was just checking what was this little animal was doing." She explained, she knew he didn't like it when they encroached on his space.

He turns to the qilin and says "It is ok don't worry she is with me."

The manager was surprised and bowed to the Qilin, she obviously still didn't recognize the secretary and says "Oh, my apologies enlightened Adeptus I didn't mean any rudeness." Ganyu tried to smile as she nods and shakes her head.

"It is quite ok Ver Goldet, and can you get the dinner sent to us in my room?" She nods and takes their order before taking her leave. He turns to her and asks her what she is doing here.

"I noticed you were back so I wanted to check in on you." She looks all over his body, "Are you ok Xiao?" She didn't note any wounds on him. He shakes his head and then turns to the roof and looks at her with an eyebrow raise asking her if she wants to stay here. She nods and he helps her get up the tree barks and they both isolate themselves and get comfortable against the branches. She rubs against the tree and smiles peacefully, the tree feels so alive and healthy.

She then turns out to the marsh and smiled, how beautiful the scene was. Xiao waited for her to fall asleep again, but she had slept quite a lot so she stayed up and stared at the marsh. The past came in flashes as she remembered the past 6 centuries, the war and the people they lost over the years. She remembered the gentle goddess and the Yakshas that lost their lives in a horrible but prideful way. She remembered the adepti that gave their life away for Rex lapis and his building region and the worst thing she remembered was every single day the blood that was spilled by her hands, the blood that still covered her. She turned to Xiao who still suffered because of the war and yet he always seems to take pride in his duties. She wonders how he forgets the blood, the nightmares filled with screams of their victims, she wondered how he forgave his past.

She bites her inner cheek gently as she shakes her head to forget such thoughts. Xiao has lost many people, everyone he got close to has left him, the karma binds him and makes him suffer to this day, she truly can't believe her suffering is more than his. She has it far easier than him she knew. She must stay strong though after all she too was Rex lapis's Adeptus, one of the guardians of Liyue.

She apologises to him silently to think lower of his sufferings before she too let her thoughts go in the wind, they watch the clouds pass until they are called for dinner by the inn lady. She jumps down gracefully and walks alongside him as they walk back to his room and thank her for the dinner. They settle on his simple table as she takes in the small bowl that looks like a cat dish, she pouts as he smirks. She looks up to him and huffs as he chuckles slightly.

"You are the same size as Wei."

She pouts cutely, using all her face muscles and says "You know better than anybody how big Qilins are."

He smirks remembering her illuminated form better than anybody "Well this is the treatment you get when one doesn't take care of oneself."

She whimpers as she agrees with his words. His scolding though was a small jab and he chuckled as he saw her whimpering, Ganyu was far too accepting when people criticized or scolded her, "I have learned my lesson, Xiao." She says as she pouts at him and he gives her a nod while looking away, she was far too cute for her own good.

He eats his almond tofu as she finished her vegetarian albone and he does note it is quite a small portion from what she eats normally, so he lets her finish and then calls out to her and pats a spot on his lap, she jumps and settles down and looks up to him as he half-smiles and scoops little of his almond tofu and offers to her. She looks surprised as she confirms if it's ok, he nods and she slowly nibbles on it. He makes her eat more before he gives her a pat and finishes his own meal.

"You feel better now?" She nods.

She smiles at him, "Thank you for sharing your food, Xiao." He nods and she jumps down as he gets up and puts their plates out as she decides to walk around his room and take it all in. It's the first time she has been inside, after all, it will also probably be the last time too. Everyone knows well Xiao doesn't like anyone in his personal space. She can smell better in this form so she takes in his musky smell, and blushes bright red not that anyone will notice considering her fluffy fur. As she jumps on his storages, he comes back and folds his hands and stares at her with flat eyes.

"What are you investigating Ganyu?" She huffs as she glares at him.

"I was just looking around a bit. I was not poking my nose anywhere."

He gives her another look before he sits down on his bed and picks up his lance and starts cleaning it. She comes near him and settles beside him, as she watches his practised elegant moves as he cleans up his jade lance, they sit there peacefully until he turns and says, "Did you bring your bow?" She nods but since she can't turn back she can't call it out right now. He sighs and instead continues with his lances. The process is calming and she nestles herself on his side as she continues watching his hands. They are quite skilled she notes and blushes when her imagination goes a bit far. She shakes her head in the silence and gets back to watching him. As the calm envelopes her she slowly drifts to slumber without even realising.

He looks down as he finishes his jade lance and sighs, she was asleep again, he wonders truly how long it has been since she has last gotten decent sleep. He slowly pats her head and she unconscious snuggles into it and it makes him slightly blush, his heart once again acting up. It was truly weird feelings, these human emotions that didn't belong to him. He takes away his hand and continues his work, as usual, the Yaksha doesn't sleep but his body does relax as she sleeps at his side. It feels natural, he muses as he works for his hands, it feels so natural to have her on his side. It has been so long since he has spent a whole day with her. It all felt so natural and relaxing and his head has been calm and his pain subdued. This is not the first time he has realised the effect she has on him, they have been fighting by each other side for centuries but this is the first he can fully bathe in that peaceful feeling without having to worry about anything else. He acknowledges the fact that Ganyu was special to him whether he liked it or not she had made herself special to him and now all he can do is to choose whether to act upon the fact or not. He looks down at her, the choice is easy but really hard to make at the same time. He is not a being that deserves happiness and yet it seems destiny doesn't want to play fair to him. Still, he smiles a little, they have time, they always had time so he can make his own choice. He hopes she will wait for him.

The hours pass and as the clock turns 5, a body suddenly appears beside him, snuggling against his shoulder. He does blush as Ganyu, now in her human form decides to still keep snuggling, her hands wound up holding the edges of his shirt as her head naturally fits in the creek of his neck and her body snuggles right up to his shoulder. He takes a deep breath and banishes all the evil thoughts, it was wrong of him to think of Ganyu like that but just like voices they just make themselves heard, his voices laughing maniacally and calling him a beast. He knows that and he should probably detach her, but she looks too comfortable for him to do that and he rationalises she will probably return to work once she is up so he should let her take her rest as much as she can. She already works so hard and as her mentor, the least he can do is make sure she is taking proper rest. So we that reasoning, he lets her nap while taking stolen glances at her and then chiding at himself to act so immorally. It was unbecoming of an Adeptus to act on such basic human desires but he can't hide the heat filling inside him as she keeps snoring on his arm.

His happy times (he will refuse that vehemently) ends when half an hour later Ganyu wakes up and jumps two feet back when she realises the situation. He sighs and schools himself back to his blank look as she blushes wildly and starts apologising. It makes him hurt that she thinks he is some kind of short-fused man, he won't get mad at her for nodding off on him. He doesn't say that as he puts a heavy hand on her head and makes her look up, their eyes meet and all he says.

"Stop apologising."

She nods and he lets her go. He gets up, stretches his muscles, putting away his lances he turns towards her, she definitely looks well-rested. Her skin colour has returned and her muscles don't seem as tense as before. He nods at her and asks her when she is leaving.

"I will probably get breakfast and then head back to the harbour." She bows when he gets up, "Thank you Xiao for letting me stay and rest. I probably would have gotten more tired if I stayed out there."

He sighs and crosses his hands, "Just remember to take rest Ganyu. You work too hard." She sighs in defeat as she nods, "Those humans won't fall apart if you take rest for one day." She nods, as usual he is brash when giving advice, well she is someone who likes that part of him so she can't really say anything. She smiles at him, thanks him and takes her leave. He won't ever admit that he will miss her for the next week while working.

She walks into the Liyue harbour, well-rested and well-fed. The sea breeze greets her morning as the merchants start the day and ships start docking for the day, some greet her and others are too focused to do so. She greets them back and as she walks to Liyue harbour, she stops near the dock area and looks out at the sea, the sea hasn't changed but the city has changed quite a lot. A lot of things have changed in these centuries but some things do remain unchanged she muses as she remembers Xiao, he has remained the same and yet she knows he has changed too, he after all smiled again. She can remember the last time he smiled, it was in the field of glaze lilies beside the gods and Yakshas, their little family back then. Now, she knows he doesn't smile any more but yesterday he had and she hopes she had played a little part in it. She knows these feelings will remain unchanged no matter the centuries and one day she will act upon them, change will come and she can choose to embrace it.

Well, not now though, she knows they can take their time. They have always had plenty of time.

[fireemblems24]

Flame Emperor Reveal Analysis

This game is all over the place with this. This level delivered some of the most intense and emotional moments so far, but doesn’t always capitalize on character development and conflict. 

I’m playing all four routes in Fire Emblem Three Houses mostly blind. Below is spoilers for all four routes (which I’m learning the names of now). And for the first it’s actually 4! 

Crimson Flower & Silver Snow

I lied. Originally I planned on writing a different analysis for Crimson Flower and Silver Snow, but the build up is the same. Only the fallout is different, and yeah there’s a lot to say about how things played out. 

The Black Eagles routes have the biggest advantage for this scene because your main character is the Flame Emperor. It does not hold back. All of your students, sans Edelgard and Hubert, are terrified, confused, and hurt. None of them grasp fully what’s going on when Edelgard takes her mask off and orders her army to kill anyone who stands against her. The voice actors do a fantastic job here: Dorothea, Caspar, Bernadetta, and others sell the mess of emotions the Black Eagles experience, and Edelgard sounds stone-cold and in-command. Her betrayal is the gut-punch it should be. 

The level presents a no-win scenario. One of your students is willing to kill you and everyone else you’re supposed to protect, and Rhea is out for blood. No matter what happens, no matter what you do, you lose. It’s a heartbreaking, emotional mess of a situation the writing sets up. 

Even prior to all this, the dance between revealing to much or to little about Edelgard’s true intentions is fantastic. Where the Blue Lions basically dumps the answer in your lap and the Golden Deer gives little to no hints at the Flame Emperor’s identity, the Black Eagles is the only route where I do not know if I would’ve guessed correctly or had so few clues that I didn’t bother trying to guess. 

Edelgard drops enough hints to guess correctly if you’re looking for them. She always questions Byleth about his thoughts on the Flame Emperor, trying to drive a wedge between the Emperor and the heinous actions the masked knight is involved in.  Likewise, Edelgard constantly asks Byleth if he’d pick her over the whole world. She also makes alarming declarations that tow the line between reformer and despot. All of these actions make sense in retrospect - she was fishing to see who would and would not side with her regardless of her actions. 

The scene in the Holy Tomb builds up to a crescendo, Edelgard is defeated, and Rhea makes her demand to kill Edelgard. It’s a bit telling Rhea needed to go so extreme in order to make siding with Edelgard believable, but it’s counteracted  by the game going as far as making Edelgard an enemy unit who can and will kill her classmates. Both women resort to extremes. Rhea is emotional, hateful, and screaming for blood. Edelgard is cold, calculated, and resorting to using victims of human experimentation to kill her own friends. These are two driven, passionate women exposing their ugliest sides in an emotional scene ripe for fantastic character development and conflict. 

And then . . . the wrap-up. 

Silver Snow

Should you choose to kill Edelgard, you land in Silver Snow. Rhea’s angry rant against Edelgard is fantastically delivered and makes me anticipate further development from her character. Back in Garreg Mach Monastery, Rhea  juxtaposes her earlier scene for a softer one. She implies a willingness to sacrifice her life to protect her home, and asks Byleth to take her role should something happen to her. Rhea’s plan all along was to put Byleth (who is connected to Sothis, who is connected to Rhea, though the details are still unknown to me) in charge. After hearing Rhea call for blood, it’s a sweet scene between Byleth and the archbishop. The problem with it is that every route gets these scenes sans Crimson Flower. It’s two great scenes for Rhea, but not unique to Silver Snow. 

And here’s the weird part - there is no unique content for Rhea outside of a few initial lines when choosing to kill Edelgard. Instead, we get the Black Eagles upset and unsure about Edelgard’s actions, a few wondering how much she planned all along and how involved she was in every horrible thing that happened during their school year. It’s necessary, but there’s nothing stand-out in anyone’s dialogue to bring home a real gut-punch. 

Seteth gets the best unique content in Silver Snow when he offers the Black Eagles a chance to defect to the Empire should they desire. It’s delivered softly with no threat behind it, showing an earnest desire for the students to feel comfortable even if it means they’re going to turn around and try to slaughter him in thanks. Thankfully, none of the students leave. Cyril and Catherine automatically join your team, and Hilda is now recruitable as well to make up for losing Hubert and Edelgard.   

The fall out for choosing to stand against Edelgard is . . . fine. For such a unique event in Fire Emblem (siding against your lord, possibly losing two units you’ve heavily invested in should you not know what’s coming), I expected a bit more drama and flare and a lot more Rhea. However, this is only the start, and it gave what it needed to give. 

The stage has been well set. Everyone’s in a no-win situation. Should they lose, they and everyone else in Fodlan will suffer an all-out, dragged-out war. They’ll lose their school and have to fight against their home country (sans Petra) where most of their family and friends live. Killing Edelgard ends the conflict, but she is their former friend, classmate, and rightful leader. She gives them no choice - fight for me or die standing against me. Neither option will leave Byleth and the remaining students wholly satisfied, so I foresee more bittersweet confrontations coming, and I look forward to it.

Crimson Flower 

Deciding to protect Edelgard lands you on the Crimson Flower path. I have to say, I’ve read and watched thousands of stories and this one scene stands out among all others. 

Never in my life have I ever seen characters react to a situation in a way that makes less sense. Even more baffling is how much potential gets tossed out the window. Stories thrive on conflict and character development and this scene is ripe with potential, but instead of even letting the fruit grow rancid they just . . . act like it never existed. 

After Byleth picks to guard Edelgard, Rhea loses it and is ready to tear Byleth to pieces before turning into a dragon. The Black Eagles and Edelgard all run away and, not long after, make it back to Enbarr safely. How they escaped a rampaging dragon or successfully fled Garreg Mach is hand-waved away. This is the kind of hand-waving I can forgive. It’s lazy writing, but it doesn’t really impede the story. What I cannot forgive is the hand-waving that comes next. 

Edelgard has a brief scene where she tells her classmates her intentions - she wants to rid Fodlan of the Church of Serios’s control, claims that Rhea and her fellow beasts have secretly ruled humanity and held them back, and is going to declare war. She asks who will join her. Predictably, all of them do - except Flayn. Edelgard mentions that Flayn has opted not to stay with the group. 

Hmmm. I wonder why. Could it be Edelgard’s lackey kidnapped and tortured her for a whole month, preparing her for blood experiments at the hands of an evil group of mages who just happen to be Edelgard’s allies? Maybe that had something to do with it. The fact the game presents this is as some magnanimous act is hilarious. I believe Edelgard would let someone like, say Petra, turn away too, but she deserves no “brownie points” for allowing someone who she allowed to get tortured and set-up for a slow death as a human sacrifice to leave and not decide to attack her the home where her father still lives. I think this aspect of Edelgard’s character would’ve hit home significantly harder if someone who wasn’t so throughly victimized by Edelgard’s actions had fled, or you actually saw Flayn leave. 

No one asks about the Death Knight. No one asks about Flayn’s kidnapping. No one asks about Kostas attempting to kill students. No one asks about the students kidnapped and experimented on or Remire Village or Jeralt. No one asks where the Crest Beasts Edelgard is using came from. No one asks about the fact she just tried to kill all of them, or what she’s going to do with the Crest Stones. No one even mentions the Flame Emperor. No one questions the history she spilled on them, claiming the church was behind the splitting of Fodlan despite not even having enough knights to guard their own monastery and needed students to help out at events. 

I could buy the Black Eagles running away with Edelgard. The scene where Byleth chooses Rhea or Edelgard is highly emotional. Things happen quickly and no one is given much of a chance to process anything. Rhea doesn’t give anyone much of a choice by shifting into a dragon. I wish they didn’t rely so much on “Rhea bad” to make any sense of siding with Edelgard, but it is believable. What I cannot buy is how no one questions anything afterwards. 

It’s like the whole cast just forgot the first eleven chapters. No one even mentions the Flame Emperor’s existence. The moment the mask came off, it ceased to exist. Everyone mindlessly believes everything Edelgard says, and no one even asks any questions - not about Rhea, not about the history of Fodlan, not about the Flame Emperor’s actions. Barely anyone bats an eyelash at the idea of attacking their own school and killing former classmates, teachers, and friends. Everyone comes across borderline brainwashed. Did the writers have so little faith in Edelgard’s position they were afraid to even attempt exploring it? Even worse is the strategy meeting is just Edelgard, Hubert, and Byleth - the Black Eagles are no where to be seen. It makes them come across like mindless puppets rather than anyone remotely rational - like pawns arranged on a board required for gameplay reasons than actual characters.        

Never in my life have I seen a story throw away so much potential character development and conflict. The situation here is intriguing. Edelgard’s stance is fascinating, but everything falls short when all that’s interesting about it is getting tossed out the window because Rhea is secretly evil and nothing Edelgard did beforehand seems to matter anymore. I am seriously concerned about where this route is heading, because despite the massive potential, it seems like it cares less about that and more about making sure Edelgard looks good rather than complex and interesting, even at the cost of logic, character development, and by turning other interesting characters black so Edelgard has someone she can look better than in comparison rather than standing on her own ideals.     

Verdant Wind

Am I correct in assuming the fandom consensus is that Verdant Wind had the least impactful Flame Emperor reveal? Because it did. 

Edelgard had little to no presence in Verdant Wind. Outside of pre and post class vs class battle banter, her only scene consisted of interrogating Claude and getting and giving no answers. Claude has no connection to Edelgard and neither does Byleth or any of the Golden Deer. When the mask comes off and it’s her face behind it, there’s no emotional response. 

The fallout is equally lackluster. Claude demands answers from Edelgard, which she refuses to answer, and she warps away. Afterwards, things play out the same way they do on every route. And that’s the core issue here. Claude and the Golden Deer bring nothing unique to this scene. Elements of surprise that Edelgard is the Flame Emperor, her willingness to kill all your units to get crest stones, and her declaration of war is there on every route. Claude’s character and goals have had no impact on the plot. 

Analyzing this scene has brought to light my main issue with the Verdant Wind route thus far. It’s that Claude and friends have done nothing to move the plot forward. Things just happen; no character is making anything happen. You could argue it’s the same for the Azure Moon route, but Dimitri’s clearly defined goals and emotional connection makes it a streamlined story with a sense of forward progression instead of plot points getting dumped in the player’s lap. 

It’s too bad, because Verdant Wind could’ve approached this differently. Instead of Claude getting nothing done and shouting about every relic that showed up, he and Byleth could’ve solved mysteries together a la Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boy. For all of Claude’s questioning everything, very little attention was paid to unmasking the Flame Emperor. Verdant Wind guided its players to look at the wrong mysteries - mysteries that ultimately got no answers while ignoring the one part one was actually about figuring out, and if this was flipped, Verdant Wind would’ve had a much more impactful Flame Emperor reveal. 

I will give Verdant Wind major bonus points though. It is nice to see a character question Edelgard about her involvement in things. Dimitri’s too caught up in his Duscur trauma (which I don’t believe Edelgard participated in) and neither Silver Snow and especially Crimson Flower question Edelgard’s actions as the Flame Emperor, but Claude throws at her all the questions I wanted to hear: what about Flayn? What about Jeralt? What about Remire? So congrats Claude, you’re the only character and the only route that’s holding Edelgard actually responsible for her actual actions. If only she was the mystery you were investigating instead of one that went exactly no where for eleven straight chapters. 

Azure Moon

What’s interesting here is that the Flame Emperor’s reveal is less about who the mystery person is and more about our protagonist’s, Dimitri’s, reaction to it. And that is core reason behind this scene’s success. 

Multiple users on here told me to play chapter eleven of Blue Lions first, and I’m both glad and upset I listened to them. Glad, because they were all right, this route had by far the best Flame Emperor reveal, but sad because it all went downhill from there. 

The Crimson Flower/Silver Snow routes should’ve had the best Flame Emperor reveal. After all, those are the routes where Edelgard plays the biggest role, but the follow up to the scene is fairly lackluster, especially in Crimson Flower. Azure Moon, on the other hand, did everything Crimson Flower was afraid to - address the elephant in the room.   

Characters in Crimson Flower respond to the situation as if Edelgard didn’t just try to kill all of them, nor do they ask any questions about her actions as the Flame Emperor. Everyone acts as if none of that ever happened, and by not bothering to even mention it, those actions stick out even worse than they would’ve otherwise. 

The opposite is true in Azure Moon. Everyone is unnerved by Dimitri’s violent outburst. Felix jumps at the chance to tell everyone, “I told you so.” No one knows what to do about Dimitri, nor do they really have time to process anything with Edelgard’s war machine knocking on their front door. However, this is the base expectation of a story - that characters respond realistically to what happened prior instead of teleporting to some surreal dimension where Edelgard isn’t working with people who perform human experimentation. 

So what exactly did Azure Moon do to make this reveal so successful? It utilized the route’s unique aspects: Dimitri’s mental instability and desire for revenge, terrible family history, and emotional connection to Edelgard. 

Unlike Verdant Wind, Edelgard has an actual presence and relevance in Azure Moon thanks to her connection to Dimitri. He cares about her like family, which makes her betrayal more personal and automatically more impactful than in Verdant Wind. Even more brilliant here is milking the emotional aspect of what happened. Instead of focusing on “shocking” the reader with Edelgard’s betrayal, it drops hints about her secret identity with all the subtly of a lead brick. 

You know what inevitable, dramatic, and tragic outcome is coming. Edelgard, Dimitri’s only remaining family (outside of an uncle he’s on bad terms with), is working hand-in-hand with the people who caused the deaths of his family which led to the genocide of a race of people and the source all of his trauma.  Dimitri makes it quite clear he’s out for revenge, and that anything related to Duscur triggers his PTSD so bad it seems like a dissociative or psychotic episode. Azure Moon does not build up a mystery, it builds up an emotional conflict - like watching a train wreck that you know is coming and can’t stop. 

And that’s the brilliance of it - this scene isn’t about Edelgard being the Flame Emperor, we already know that, it’s about Dimitri, who this route is about and who the player is emotionally invested in during this version of the story. 

Nor does this game disappoint here. There’s no softening anything to try and make Dimitri look “better.” He has a full-on violent breakdown. It’s devastating. He is succumbing fully to his demons after fighting against it over and over while getting tossed into triggering situations ad nauseam and getting no help in return (after all, therapy, medication, hell even the concept of mental illness simply doesn’t exist). All the signs that the route has built up explode in an emotional scene, and probably thee best cut scene so far with some of the best voice acting in Fire Emblem to carry it out. Every plot thread comes to a head: Dimitri’s lust for revenge, his unstable mental health, the mystery of the Flame Emperor’s identity, etc . . . 

The upcoming battle has more meaning now. It has what is at steak in the other routes - win or lose and the fear of having to kill former classmates - and more. Because it isn’t just about the battle of Edelgard vs the world, but also the battle for Dimitri’s mental health and for his soul. There’s a bit of a catch-22 here, is Edelgard dying really the best ending? Killing her saves many lives, but at the cost of Dimitri’s mental health? What if she dies and he doesn’t kill her, but what if he does? Would he kill himself now that the dead are avenged? Or what if she lives and this drags on longer? No option is good. There isn’t an easy win button by offing Edelgard or taking over the school. Every possible ending is a bad ending. Your lead character is in the middle of a mental breakdown, and giving into his demons and lust for revenge (which is a separate issue exasperated by ill mental health) and the situation only makes it worse and is to dire to properly let anyone deal with said breakdown. The tension, the drama, the sense of foreboding dread, is all so much more here than in all the other routes. 

What makes Azure Moon’s handling of the Flame Emperor so good is that it widely succeeded where the other two routes failed. Verdant Wind didn’t make the reveal relevant to anything Claude was interested in or working towards. Crimson Flower completely and utterly failed to address Edelgard’s actions let alone use that to create compelling tension. Azure Moon did both. It made the Flame Emperor reveal relevant to the route, even made it actually about the main character of the route. Nor is it shying away from conflict and tension, even if it means letting it’s main character fall out of grace and risking the player’s infatuation/admiration/whatever with/of Dimitri by having him succumb to his dark side. Because it’s not protecting him, he’s going to turn out a way better character for it. 

I will admit though, that I think playing all four routes impacted this a bit. It didn’t benefit Azure Moon, but I think this route spoiling who the Flame Emperor is hurt the other routes. Verdant Wind might’ve had at least some tiny smudge of an impact because it’s the only route where there’s very little way to correctly guess who the Flame Emperor is - the only one where it may be truly a surprise. Crimson Flower/Silver Snow does make it a bit more obvious, but doesn’t quite spell it out for you the way Azure Moon does. Here, the player kind of has to be looking for it. Obviously though, you can only learn this once, and good writing could’ve made all the routes impactful with very small tweaks - have Verdant Wind actually focus on the mystery that’s solved at the end of Part 1 (who is the Flame Emperor) and actually have characters react to and get answers about Edelgard’s actions. I also think the choice between Silver Snow and Crimson Flower looses its tension when you go into it knowing you’ll pick both. Azure Moon easily had the best reveal, so I want to ultimately thank everyone who told me to do this one first - you were all very, very right. 

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Red Dawn (Milius, 1984)

When approaching work with politics that I don't share or are specific to its time, I try to picture how the original audience might have reacted. And for certain viewers in the Reagan era, the opening moments of Red Dawn would have been a vividly realized nightmare scenario, Soviet troops on American soil, killing Americans in cold blood or otherwise rounding them up for indoctrination. (Part of this includes playing Alexander Nevsky in the town's theatre, which doesn't sound so bad.) Juxtaposing the well armed, well trained invading force with small town Americana makes these dimensions feel more immediate, and while we know now that Gorbachev was eager to end the Cold War more than anything, the title cards lay out the events leading to the invasion with frightening plausibility. The Soviet Union, emboldened by the collapse of NATO and finding the U.S. with few allies, joins with sympathetic governments in Mexico and Cuba to launch a full scale invasion abetted with nuclear strikes, placing the film, despite its domestic setting, as a clear endorsement of hawkish foreign policy. (The specifics of the film's scenario are somewhat surreal to consider in a modern context, given how views across the spectrum have shifted over time, but I'll refrain from digging too much into modern real world politics.)

The Colorado setting is key to the film's visual strategy. The heroes, when framed against the majesty of the wilderness, look to be in an ad for a national park , while when we're with the villains, their environs bring to mind the mountains of Afghanistan. In the third act, when a counterinsurgency specialist akin to Colonel Mathieu from The Battle of Algiers is introduced, the heroes find themselves framed in the same harsh desert landscape as things go south for them. John Milius is making clear parallels with the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, and as J. Hoberman points out in Make My Day, it's probably not a coincidence that "Wolverines" almost rhymes with "Mujahideen". Kevin Reynolds, who wrote the first draft of the screenplay, would push this dynamic further with The Beast of War, where we identify both with the othered Afghans and the technologically superior Soviet invading force, drawing parallels to the Vietnam War as well. Milius doesn't really push the latter idea as forcefully, although it's worth noting that the Soviets are seen mostly in the urban areas while being ambushed in the countryside. He also gives a rare moment of compassion to Ron O'Neal's Cuban colonel at the end, as if bonding with the heroes over a shared warrior's code despite being on opposite sides of the conflict.

When I'd first seen this movie a few years ago, I'd found it laughable and also kind of boring, but I'm now thinking my reaction was way off base. (On a related note, I've been using the extent to which my appreciation of certain movies has increased on recent rewatches as a measure of how long the pandemic has been going on. This is the most drastic case yet.) The most common complaint about the movie is that the likelihood of American teenagers successfully taking on the Soviet Army is far from plausible, but Milius is drawing clear parallels to successful real life defenses against better equipped and better trained forces. He also goes to some length to show them develop discipline and grow as a unit, an approach that he used behind the scenes as well, appointing Patrick Swayze as the leader of the other actors. (Swayze takes to the role well, embodying a kind of masculinity that goes well with Milius' warrior poet ideas.) There's a certain moment that I'd found unexpectedly cruel in my first viewing, but I think now the effect is pretty obviously intentional, at least from Reynold's original idea of the film as a Lord of the Flies scenario, confronting us with the ugliness of what happens when youths are forced into a life or death situation. The action is not directed stylishly or always with overt excitement, but I think it carries a real sense of strategy, shaped by Milius' knowledge of guerilla warfare. And the fact that it isn't too exciting also helps temper the film's jingoism. Milius treats the material with a certain romance, but he's also thoughtful about the consequences of war and the toll it takes on its participants.

Now is the movie dumb in certain ways? Yes, and one moment ("Aveeeenge me!") still plays quite laughably. Are its politics ones that I don't jive with? Yes, I'm not oblivious to the extent to which it plays as a paranoid right wing fantasy about sticking it to the Russkies, but I also think the movie is more thoughtful about those ideas and interrogates them with a bit more force than it's given credit for. I think it has in its young cast a number of nicely textured performances, and some very good ones from Ron O'Neal (speaking unsubtitled Spanish or Russian for the entire film) and Powers Boothe as a stranded Air Force pilot who bonds with one of the Wolverine girls. And I think it's rousingly scored by Basil Poledouris and bracingly directed by John Milius, who gives us images of startling impact and disarming poetry amidst the combat.

[crapitskizaru]

For Everything. (X Drake x Hawkins)

Summary: Drake cannot bear with the past mistakes catching up to him anymore. He receives a Tarot reading from his one and only friend among the Beast Pirates. 

Warning: Wano setting so possible spoilers. And after catching up with most of the anime...I just had to do this. 

The small room was shrouded in darkness. Only a single source of light remained - the man observed as the trail of smoke curled upwards from the candle.

He was scared. The cold fear crawled underneath his skin and confused his senses. He tried to reach back into his past, to remember what led him to this miserable point. Not many memories were left to conjure up in order to answer the persisting questions.

A quiet voice in his head kept reminding him that the end draws near, that death lurks even in the shadowed corners of his room, waiting to pounce and take his life.

The man didn’t want to die just yet. Not one person would remember him fondly if he did - he needed more time to fix his mistakes. The main issue was, however, that for a single mistake in the past he had to spend years in the present, desperately trying to turn it all around.

His eyes landed on the open journal on his desk. If he died now… There was a chance someone might find his notes and read about the crimes and sins he regretted more than anything in the world. He could try to persuade his own self that he was used, manipulated, forced to kill. But it certainly didn’t persuade his aching heart.

Should he tell him? Tell him everything? But what if he turns on him, and Drake will be left with enemies on both sides of the conflict? That would serve no one.

He swiftly got up and started pacing across the room. The most disturbing thought was the one that kept telling him there was no right thing to do. Both the Marines and the forces of the Emperor were committing to the wrong ideas, their hatred for each other only adding fuel to the fire of the looming war.

How could everyone be so short-sighted? Serving vicious men in power with only their own interests in mind. But then again, Drake shouldn’t be the one to judge. Everyone else must have had their reasons to do it, just like he did.

His cover will be blown, sooner or later. And then he will be left on the utter mercy of the Beast Pirates, no longer of any use to the Marines.

Drake closed the journal. He had to tell him. There was no other choice. Like an enslaved animal in a cage, no matter which side he turned to, there was always the cold steel of bars in front of him. And so his heart led him to the only path left to take - towards one sole friend; a friend he was going to lose at the end of that same night.

Gripping the journal, he left his room. No explanation or reasoning came to his mind, but he kept going. If he stopped now, he knew he wouldn’t find the strength to try it again - and so, he kept going.

Already, the shadows of the night seeped through the windows of the corridor. The Land of Wano had rarely been at peace, but at that moment it seemed like the whole world was calm, preparing for slumber.

Drake stood before the door, wondering where to start the conversation. Should he confess everything right away? Or paint a whole picture first? He figured that a start with a knock on the door should be the best option.

Before he raised his hand, the door opened.

“How long are you going to stand here for?” Hawkins asked. “I almost started placing bets with myself. So far, it’s been at least five minutes.”

“You’ve seen me in your cards?”

“No. Your shadow was visible from under the door.”

“Oh.”

Drake sent him a quick glance. The flowing hair he never got to touch, the piercing eyes, the regal expression on his face - merely looking at him was becoming painful.

He tightened his grip on the journal. With all the sweat he was producing, it was more than possible that all of the ink will get washed away soon.

“Drake? Can I help you?”

“Hm? Oh right. Yes. Yes, you can. Please.”

Hawkins bowed his head. “Very well then. Come in.”

You will hate me before this night ends, Drake thought, entering the cabin.

It was a lot brighter than his own, he had to admit that. At least two dozen candles were lit, placed on every possible surface - the floor, the chest of drawers, the windowsill, and the huge desk in the middle of the room, covered with piles of documents. Drake wondered how it was possible that they still hadn’t caught on fire.

It felt cozy and comfortable, at least in comparison to his own dark, lifeless, austere excuse for a cabin.

“I’m guessing you want to know what the cards say.” Hawkins sat behind the desk and gestured for Drake to take the chair across him. “Took you long enough to finally ask. It’s not like I charge for it, you know that.”  

“Actually, I’m here for something else-”

“Sit down.”

Drake sat down. Annoying his friend needlessly before he even starts to confess would only make this harder. With a sigh, Drake slid his journal across the desk, unable to look Hawkins in the eye.

“What’s this?”

“A matter I came to you with. It’s…I figured it’d be easier for me to write it all, rather than say it out loud.”

“First, the cards.”

“But-”

“Draw three. Left hand.”

Drake sighed again and drew three cards from the deck. The very same deck that he’d seen in use so many times - when Hawkins used his power, the cards glowed in creepy blue and usually meant bad news for either the enemy or Hawkins himself. Drake wasn’t very fond of that deck of cards.

“The Hierophant. Reversed. The Hanged Man. And the Knight of Pentacles.”

“You don’t seem happy with that.”

“I’m rarely happy,” Hawkins murmured, frowning. “You carry a lot of guilt and shame. Your actions don’t correspond with your values, which causes you to be at constant war with yourself.”

An awkward silence took over.

“Is that it?” Drake asked after a while.

“No. The Hanged Man means you’re stuck in a situation you desperately want to get out of. Think of it as being locked in a cell. In order to escape this stagnancy, you either have to make a firm decision or try to make peace with yourself. Let the events unfold, and maybe the cell door will open unassisted.”

“So you’re saying… When I’m locked in prison, I should just wait long enough and the lock will unlatch.”

Hawkins sent him a tired stare. “No, that’s not it. I’m saying if you try to calm your inner conflicts or attempt to solve some of them, your path will appear on its own.”

“What if I’m unable to do that?”

“This card right here-,” Hawkins continued without an answer, patting a card with a depiction of a knight on a black horse. “- could mean your difficulty in expressing emotions. One of the reasons for that might be a problematic relationship with your father figure.” A short silence followed that statement. “The card also paints you as a reliable, patient, and loyal man. I don’t know about the loyal part…”

Drake felt the tips of his ears catch on fire - the heatwaves suddenly erupting throughout his whole body made him consider taking off his leather jacket, but he discarded that idea at once.

“…since you’re a former Rear Admiral turned pirate, but I’d say the rest is accurate.” Hawkins looked him in the eye. “You are reliable. You don’t back away when a fight turns out to be inevitable. I know I can count on you.”

It was at that exact moment when Drake started regretting his choice at confessing. How could he admit treason to his one and only friend? Under his heavy stare, Drake felt worse than he had for a long time.

“I think you overestimate me,” he whispered.

“I think you underestimate yourself, Drake. And downgrade your morals.”

Drake shifted uncontrollably in his seat, making it screech. “You don’t know a thing about my morals.”

Hawkins smirked and quickly shuffled the cards. “Draw one. Right hand.”

“Listen, I didn’t come here for a lecture.” Drake stood up with haste, suddenly filled with determination. “I don’t fully…grasp the idea behind those cards, or the power you actually have over them. But I’m almost sure those pieces of paper can’t help me. At this point, I have no idea what can. I will be going now. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He reached for the journal, but Hawkins grabbed it first. His red eyes were calm but cold; tiny candle flames reflected in them, giving him an unearthly look.

“You seek help. You came to me, and since cards are my biggest asset, I’m doing my best to guide you. But it won’t bear any results without cooperation from your side.”

Drake’s hands gripped the back of the chair, knuckles turning white from strain. The man locked his eyes on one of the candles until his vision blurred, and the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding released slowly.

“I’m not judging you, Drake. I would be a fool and a hypocrite if I did. We all make terrible mistakes. Let me help you fix yours. Now, in the present,” Hawkins paused. “Draw a card.”

He couldn’t back out now. He couldn’t lie to his friend anymore, not after what he’d just heard. This was the only way. Drake drew a card from the very top of the deck. Immediately after his touch, it started glowing in blue.

Claiming back his previous seat, Drake stared at his colleague, trying to imprint his majestic features in his mind. After all, he wasn’t sure whether he’ll see those flowing hair ever again. Or that tattooed cross on his neck. He had always been fond of it.

The blue glimmer accentuated the sharp lines of his face, now furrowed in silent focus.

“I’ll be honest, you’re starting to freak me out a bit,” Drake said.  

“You drew The Lovers. Reversed.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad.”

Hawkins lifted his gaze and started absent-mindedly fiddling with one of the flames. His fingers caressed them as if they radiated no heat, and then, with one swift movement, he extinguished the light.

Drake watched a smudge of smoke travel all the way towards the ceiling.

“You need to accept that your present is the result of the choices that you’ve made a long time ago. Embrace your past. Only then you will be able to move forward.” Hawkins paused as if considering whether he should continue or not. “It’s also a rather strong indicator of you harboring feelings for your colleague. What’s most likely to be stopping you from engaging is fear. But don’t worry-”

Drake raised an eyebrow. Who in their right mind wouldn’t worry after all this information?

“- it’s not an unrequited love.”

Silence veiled the room once more, but Drake had no interest in disturbing it. Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure what to say.

Eventually, after most of the flames had died down and the wax stiffened on the candles, he stirred. He almost forgot about the true reason he came there in the first place - it was high time to get it over with.

“You may count on me during our battles, but I know you don’t fully trust me. It could be your cards hinting or solely your intuition…I want you to know you’re right for being wary of me. I came here to confess. And to apologize, if you’ll allow it. Everything is in the journal.”

Hawkins crossed his hands on his chest, leaning back.

“Everything? You wrote down your mistakes, both past and present?”

“Yes. My current…” Drake wavered, then gathered his composure. “- situation as well. It will most likely come to light anyway, but I’d rather confess it myself.”

“Good,” Hawkins replied nonchalantly, lifting up the journal. “I need you to watch closely now.”

So Drake watched. First, the man weighted the notebook in his hand, as if measuring its worth. And then he directed it over one of the flames, causing it to crackle and catch on fire.

“Wait, what are you doing? I want you to read it all. I need you to know.” Drake sat up straight, grasping the edge of the desk. “I can’t lie to you.”

“Then don’t,” Hawkins muttered, fascinated with the bright flame engulfing the papers in his hold. When it almost reached his fingers, he threw it on the desk. “Start again with me.”

The fire slowly turned the white pages dark and withered. As only ashes remained, Drake lifted his gaze.

“The desk could have caught on fire as well, did you take that into consideration?”

“I’m sure you would have come up with something.”

Drake wasn’t sure what to say. A simple ‘thank you’ wouldn’t suffice in this case. So instead, he reached out across the desk and touched Hawkins’ fingers with the tips of his own in silent gratitude. For everything.

[blancheludis]

@whumptober2021 Day 3: Taunting, Insults

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition Characters: Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull Tags: Assault, Mage-Templar Conflict, Self-Worth Issues, Hurt Dorian, Holy Smite, Protective Iron Bull Words: 3.484

Summary: Dorian can count on one hand the times he was hit by a Smite and it was always during training, leaving him shaky and sick the rest of the day. This feels so much worse, done out of malice, meant to cripple instead of teach.

“You were saying, mage?”

- A few Templars attack Dorian in Skyhold. Bull comes to the rescue.

---

It has gotten late. Dinner is already over and while there is faint music to be heard from the Herald’s Rest, the rest of Skyhold is eerily deserted. Dorian curses himself silently as he hurries through the dark corridors. He lost track of time in the library, which should not come as a surprise, really, but he knows better than to walk alone after dark.

He is not afraid. Dangers lurk around every corner, but he trusts in his ability to defend himself. The thing is, that he is not certain whether he should defend himself. The Tevinter Mage far from home, shrouded in mystery. People do not trust him here, but the reasons are so laughably threadbare. He is neither a blood mage nor does he want to overthrow any kingdoms.

“Mage,” a voice calls out, harsh but slightly too loud for the late hour.

Dorian hastens his step. He knows the distaste in the tone intimately, even if it is only since he left Tevinter that he learned it paired just as well with mage as it does with slave or son.

He keeps his head up, makes it look like he is not running away. Running never helps. While most of the soldiers here are cowards, some do like to hunt, and Dorian knows better than to give them a reason to.

“I’m talking to you.”

And Dorian is trying his best not to hear him. One of these days, he is going to accidentally incinerate a hapless Templar trying to waylay him. The uproar that will cause. Perhaps that will still better than this cat-and-mouse game that he always, always loses.

A hand grabs Dorian all of a sudden, appearing out of nowhere in the dark. Dorian, who was concentrating on the yelling man in his back has not been paying attention to what is ahead of him.

Another Templar. Even out of uniform they are unmistakeable. That fanatic fire in their eyes that burns brightest when Dorian is near. They like to leave their hands hovering over their hips, even when they are not wearing their swords, constantly following that urge to be ready, to cut down a mage, no questions asked.

“Is there something wrong with your ears, mage?” the Templar in front of him asks, his grip tight enough to leave bruises. Alcohol clouds his breath, almost as potent as hate.

“Nothing at all,” Dorian answers brightly, trying to tone down the sharpness of his voice. “Nobody was calling my name, though.”

He bites his tongue. So much for holding back. It is high time to get out of here before the stragglers reach them. But no matter how much he twists his arm, the Templar’s hold remains strong. He could put the man on his back, but mages are not allowed to defend themselves and he does not want all of Skyhold’s guards to be called down on him because these guys are screaming murder.

“You bloody ‘Vints, always thinking you’re better than us good folks.”

Dorian barely manages to keep his face from scrunching up, but some of his contempt must have slipped through anyway because the man’s scowl deepens. Definitely time to get out.

“Well, I better relieve you of my presence then. Wouldn’t want to ruin your night,” Dorian says and calls fire to his hands, not enough to burn but to warm his fingers in warning. To his dismay, the Templar’s grip only tightens and he pulls Dorian closer.

“The Inquisitor should have never let you in,” he snarls, his foul breath warm on Dorian’s cheek. “We’re trying to save the world, not break it.”

Unable to help himself, Dorian laughs. “Did you read that in one of Master Tethras’ novels? Mighty impressive, I didn’t think they wasted the energy on teaching war dogs to read.”

Dorian should shut up. The drunk guy behind him is coming closer, leaning on a friend’s shoulder. Three on one are not odds Dorian would think twice about in the field. Things are different here. Even drunk and clearly hoping for a fight, people will listen more closely to these three than Dorian.

He is just a mage, barely a friend of the Inquisitor, neither trusted nor even a real asset because who would want a necromancer in their back when they could have him dead and buried, safely sealed away. It grates at Dorian’s pride, but he has practice in being not wanted and sneered at. He does not think it will ever stop hurting but that does not mean he will let them see.

Dorian twists his hand, determined to scare them off even if he does not dare to actually attack them. But before he can do much of anything, the Templar takes an abrupt step forward and shoves Dorian against the wall behind him. The force rattles his ribcage, upsetting a bruise he got while training with Bull. He does not let the pain show but raises a hand and lets a flame dance on his palm, bigger now and definitely a threat. Hopefully, the reminder that he could fling a fireball at their heads will be enough to get them to back off.

What Dorian does not expect is the wave of sudden coldness slamming into him, making him double over. The energy crackling under his skin, ready to be called forth, vanishes, drained by the Smite, leaving only nausea in its wake.

It is a terrible feeling, beyond words. Wielding magic is like breathing, but the Smite is more than a chokehold. It feels as if boiling silver is poured down his throat, charring his insides and leaving nothing but a barren wasteland and the painful memory of greatness.

He can count on one hand the times he was hit by a Smite and it was always during training, leaving him shaky and sick the rest of the day. This feels so much worse, done out of malice, meant to cripple instead of teach.

“You were saying, mage?”

The drunk guy sounds much more sober now if no less disdainful.

Panic unfurls in the pit of Dorian’s stomach as he realizes he is cornered. He cannot run, he can not access his magic. He is helpless in the middle of the Inquisition’s stronghold.

Perhaps they will be happy with simply roughing him up a little, with teaching him his place. The drunk guy is leering at him, but Dorian has gone to his knees under equally terrible circumstances before. If they want to kill him, though, there is little he can do. This is not how his story will end. It cannot be. And yet, Dorian has his hands full with staying upright.

He barely feels the first punch. It rattles his body but the pain is a mere echo, lost in the void that has suddenly opened in Dorian’s very core.

The men are still talking, all three of them now towering over Dorian, but he just hears the hate in their voices, no actual words.

A punch the face snaps him out of his stupor, the acute sharpness of it enough to penetrate the fog that has settled over his senses. With consciousness, though, comes more fear.

“You mage scum are good for one thing, though,” one of the Templars says. Dorian is far beyond being able to recognize faces, but his wide grin reveals a missing tooth. “And once we’re done, we’ll bury you outside in the snow, do a favour for all of us.”

Dorian hates the cold and he really, really does not want to die in it. He does not want to die at all, but the how has suddenly become a far greater concern then the when. He opens his mouth, not sure whether to say something or to just scream, but he does not get to do either because another hit to the head makes his vision swim and his thoughts scatter.

“What is going on here?” a new voice interrupts, making the three Templars jump.

The sudden lack of contact between them has Dorian slumping against the wall, his legs shaking too badly to keep him upright. His mind, however, whirs into a panicked chorus of denial. Three men are more than enough, he cannot have even more join the apparent free-for-all he has become this night.

Then, though, he sees the men back away, and when he looks at the newcomer, he finds too broad shoulders and horns and - Dorian has never been so glad to see Bull. It does not matter that he is a mage or a ‘Vint, Bull will not leave him to his fate.

“We were just having a friendly discussion,” one of the Templars says.

Dorian’s brain is slowly sorting itself out again as no new pain comes forth, and he scoffs. It tugs at a fresh bruise on his face.

“The Inquisitor is making a mistake trusting these abominations.”

Dorian is pretty sure that is the one who used the Smite. He shivers, pushes himself further against the wall. The Templars are no match against Bull, but they are still standing like a wall in front of Dorian.

“I suggest that you run,” Bull says, his voice vibrating with something dark. “And if you’re smart, you’ll leave Skyhold tonight and never look back.”

“We don’t take orders from beasts,” the gap-toothed one spats, no ounce of self-preservation.

Dorian has seen Bull on the battlefield, bloodied and hungry for a fight, an unstoppable force. Right in front of their eyes, Bull transforms into something worse than that. His back straightens, making him grow even taller, and his eyes gleam with that same battle madness, focused unflinchingly on these three, puny men.

“Run,” he bellows and takes a swing. Even armour would not have saved Gap-Tooth for Bull does not hold back. His fist slams into the Templar’s jaw with a sickening crunch, throwing him through the air as if he weighs nothing.

That is enough of a demonstration that they do not question Bull again but run, stumbling over their own feet in their hurry to get away. Dorian would laugh at their turned backs, relishing in how the situation was flipped on them, but he is still too busy with just breathing.

He closes his eyes and catalogues the pain. The throbbing, familiar ache of bruises is easier to deal with than the terrifying void inside of him. He reaches for his magic and nothing answers. His skin is just skin and not a conduit. His body is just blood and bones and nerves, full of pain and longing now, nothing greater.

“Are you all right, big guy?” Bull asks, sounding way too close.

When Dorian opens his eyes, Bull is crouching next to him, the madness replaced by blatant concern.

He will live. Nothing feels broken and there are potions against the pain. This is not his first rodeo.

“Of course,” Dorian lies. He is not sure he can stand up, much less make the way back to his quarters. He does not particularly want to be alone either – he has never been this weak before. Or, well, he was once, when his father – better not go there. This evening is ruined enough.

“You were assaulted –” Bull says but trails off when Dorian pushes to his feet.

Shaking legs or not, he is done cowering and he does not need Bull’s pity. Bad enough he had to be saved.

“Merely a misunderstanding,” Dorian says and puts in the effort to regain control over his expression. “Although I appreciate you stepping in.”

He has some experience with putting himself back together. And being alone in his room does not sound so bad if he thinks about it. There, at least, will be nobody to act tough for.

Bull nods but Dorian knows him well enough by now that this battle is not won. Coming another step closer, he his hand on the crook of Dorian’s elbow, never bothering to ask whether Dorian even wants help.

“How often does this happen?” Bull asks, his tone just conversational enough to almost hide the simmering anger beneath.

Deep down, Dorian is flattered that Bull would be upset on his behalf, but if he lets this happen it will only lead to more complications down the road. So, while he does not push off Bull’s hand, he takes care not to lean on him and begins walking towards his room. It is slow going, at first, because his body feels wrong, missing something vital, but he is walking.

“Do you think there’s someone waiting around every corner trying to trip me up?” Dorian says, falling back on his old friend sarcasm. That at least is familiar. “They were drunk.”

Drunk and ready to kill him. That is definitely a step up from mere insults and the occasional try to trip him in the hallways.

“And yet you don’t seem surprised.” Bull looks at him from the side, with an intensity in his eyes that reminds Dorian that bull is not just a formidable fighter but also a spy. “This actually explains quite a bit. You love your wine, but you never get drunk. You always leave the tavern early and never alone. You -”

Dorian pulls his arm away from Bull, very aware that people keep touching him. The momentum of that almost throws him off balance, but apart from the sheer wrongness of being without magic and the exhaustion weighing him down, Dorian almost feels like himself again. Half of himself, covered in bruises, but not a victim anymore.

“Are you done analysing me?” he snaps, knowing that his glare falls flat. “Nothing happened.”

Bull does not visibly react to Dorian refusing his help but looks decidedly unimpressed. “You’re shaking.” He does not move further away but somehow manages not to crowd Dorian either.

“Well, let someone cut one of your limbs off and see how you like it.” It feels like that, only that the loss is not located in just one limb but all of him at once. Magic is always there, waiting just for his call. His entire skin prickles with it, his lungs draw it in alongside the air to breathe. Without it, he barely feels human.

“A limb?” Bull asks, confusion interrupting his casual interrogation. Did they – oh. They took your magic?”

Bull’s realization does not sit right with Dorian. There is no malice on his face, no relief. One of his Chargers is a mage and Bull never gave the impression he minded Dorian using magic, on or off a battlefield. But Dorian is only too aware of how Qunari view mages. It is probably unfair, but he still cannot quite think clearly. And part of him will always be wary of Bull’s loyalty to the Qun.

“One used the Smite,” he says, trying for nonchalance, although it is hard to fool Bull even when he is not exhausted and in pain. “I’ll be right as rain in a minute.” Or a few hours, if he can only lock his door and lie down.

“Dorian.” Bull pulls him to a stop, just the briefest of touches before he lets his hand fall again. “This is not okay. You need to talk to Cullen about this.” It is a miracle, how he can sound so serious while saying something this ridiculous.

Dorian is already walking such a fine line with the Inquisition. It does not matter that he very much wants to rid the world of Corypheus and that he would keep hunting Venatori on his own, that he wants to reform his homeland until it is something to be proud of again. The Inquisitor likes him and trusts him not to betray them. The rest of the Skyhold’s inhabitants? Not so much.

Cullen is always civil to Dorian, the same way he is to foreign diplomats and nobles. Their conversations have gotten a bit warmer since they started playing chess together. That does not mean that Cullen would go against his own people for the sake of a mage telling tales.

“I most definitely do not,” Dorian says with a glare. “I can handle myself.” He has done so a thousand times before and likely will a thousand more.

“That’s what it looked like.”

It is not like Bull to mock him. About his clothes or the way he drinks his wine, yes. But about losing a fight? A minute ago, he called it assault but now the blame has shifted to Dorian. It always does. Time to go so he can lick his wounds in private.

“If you’re done insulting me, then –”

Bull reaches out and Dorian flinches instinctively. It gives them both halt, so much more telling about Dorian’s state than his threadbare lies.

“What about the other mages?” Bull then asks, his tone gentle, reasonable. “What if they’re going for someone a little less noticeable next? Who doesn’t play chess with the Commander and has his ear?”

Dorian has thought about that before. The other mages usually do not go out alone, too used to be wary of Templars. And he doubts anybody would dare to touch Vivienne or Solas.

“They hate me because I’m from Tevinter.” It is certainly true. And he is never quiet about his disdain of Ferelden either. The weather, the dogs, the food. He will not be forbidden to speak the truth.

But Bull does not seem to buy it. “Is that all?

Dorian stays silent. He is loud and flashy and unrepentant, so that is what might have drawn their gaze. There is little about him that does not offend people here. But that is not what their main issue is with him, but the fact that he commands a power they do not understand and never will because they cower from it.

Being a mage is not a choice, though. In most parts of Thedas, magic is treated as something to be contained and caged. Control is important, certainly, but magic is in everything and cutting it out means going through life half-blind.

Dorian turns and starts walking again. He is done with this conversation. People will always come after him and making him a fool of himself in front of the Commander of the Inquisition forces will not change that. In fact, he might just get another enemy out of this.

“I can talk to Cullen, if you’d prefer,” Bull offers, keeping up easily with him.  

“I don’t need you to fight my battles,” Dorian bites out. He will have to talk to Fiona and perhaps Vivienne to make sure that the other mages are not harassed too. He can deal with it, has done so for as long as he remembers, even if the insults change wherever he goes. But Bull is right, he will not let other experience the same.

“Never said you weren’t capable,” Bull says, his placating tone falling on deaf ears. “Do you know who they were?”

Dorian has no ideas. If he remembered every face that looked at him with disgust, every person who spewed insults or spat at him, he would not be able to cram anything else into his brain. It was never that important.

He shakes his head. “Cullen trusts the Templars that came with him.” And, despite the progress Cullen has undoubtedly made, he does not trust mages.

Bull nods but argues anyway, “We’re getting more refugees every day. He doesn’t know all of them.”

And they will still be Templars while Dorian is just an enemy mage. But Bull is right. If they are going after a member of the Inquisition’s inner circle, the other mages are not safe.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promises grudgingly. That is not a conversation he is looking forward to. He can already imagine the questions. Are you sure you did nothing to provoke them?

“Good.” Bull smiles as if he never doubted he would win the argument. “Let me walk you back to your quarters.”

Dorian should protest. He is a grown man. But he is tired and shaken to the core, still empty inside where his magic used to reside. He still does not want to be alone, does not want to peer around every corner, waiting for the next attack. The shadows seem to retreat from Bull’s massive form and Dorian is glad for the company.

He does not say thank you, but the corner of Bull’s mouth ticks further up as if he hears it anyway.

“Next time, just find me at the tavern. If I’m not there, the boys will be just as happy to help.”

Dorian nods, even though he does not understand the offer. Bull does not owe him anything. But this is something he has been learning slowly, relying on others. Maybe he can allow himself to get used to it. He can dream, at least.

[itsuki-minamy]

“K - THE FIRST STORY” (Novel)

CHAPTER 2: FLAMES (Part 2)

*PROLOGUE: SIDE: THE BOY

CHAPTER 1: THE BOY NAMED ISANA YASHIRO

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Awashima heard Kusanagi's voice so cold for the first time. Kusanagi was calm and not bothered at all. However, the calm he usually shows in front of Awashima is not so fragile, and he simply announced the minimum deeds and will necessary.

The fact that the executive, Tatara Totsuka, was shot dead by a person claiming to be the "Colorless King." Since this case is a problem between clans and the police intervention does not make sense, they did not denounce it and they report that those who took the body was "Homura". The report states that "Homura" will use all of his strength to pursue him after all. She knows that "Scepter 4" cannot be used in places where it is useless, but "Homura" goes after the criminal on his own and does not require any cooperation from "Scepter 4".

Kusanagi said it terribly clerical and one-sided. He barely answered Awashima's words. Kusanagi reaction remained the same whether he called as "Kusanagi Izumo" deputy director of "Homura" to "Scepter 4", or as "Kusanagi-kun" and her acquaintance to Awashima Seri.

When he hung up the phone, Awashima immediately manipulated the PDA, took off her garment and put on her underwear while calling out to the "King" and "Head of Scepter 4".

Despite arriving late at night, Reisi Munakata, the head of the office, responded with a single call.

"What's happen?"

"There was a report from Izumo Kusanagi, the executive member of 'Homura'. Tatara Totsuka, an executive of 'Homura', was assassinated by someone claiming to be the 'Colorless King'."

Awashima made a simple statement, inserting a jacket between her shoulder and face and pulling the sleeves into her uniform.

Munakata replied, "I understand."

"We will call members on an emergency call. Please meet at the base immediately."

"Yes!"

When the call ended, Awashima was already well dressed in her uniform. To finish, she quickly tied her tousled hair in front of the mirror, fixed it with a hair clip, put on her boots, and left the room.

As she hurries down the hall, Awashima feels the rush of blood close to her heart.

A member of the clan dies. That's sad. She also experienced it in "Scepter 4". However, if the criminal becomes another "King", a clan war is inevitable. Furthermore, Tatara Totsuka is surely the oldest member of the clan with Suoh and Izumo Kusanagi.

Remembering Kusanagi's voice on the phone, when she entered the captain's office of “Scepter 4”, which was adjacent to the bedroom, she was led into the twister due to the commotion that might occur. Munakata and the members of the special affairs team were already prepared.

Awashima bowed to Munakata, who was sitting in the office, and looked briefly at the faces of the hurried members. After thinking that Fushimi was missing, the door opened at the same time with a loud bang.

Saruhiko Fushimi, who has entered the office, said with a sulky look that the "Homura" executive was killed.

The eyes with black rimmed glasses and slightly long bangs carry a somber light. She has never seen Fushimi in a good mood, but today he seemed more frustrating than ever.

Fushimi is a young man with a unique past who has changed from "Homura" to "Scepter 4."

He lacks coordination, but he has a lot of power to make up for it, and although he is still 19 years old, he is at number 3 on "Scepter 4."

"Scepter 4", which plays the role of a police force against the Strains, and "Homura", which started from a street gang, are conflicting organizations that collide frequently. What happened to Fushimi's turn, Awashima doesn't know the detailed circumstances and never felt the need to know in particular.

However, she was deeply impressed by how he received the news that the "Homura" executive with whom he had been involved was assassinated.

Munakata bypassed the members and began to explain the current situation.

Shortly after receiving the news from Awashima, Munakata had contacted the police and made the minimum necessary adjustments.

Police had already launched an initial investigation after receiving a report from the general public that heard the shot, and had also obtained sightings of men carrying what appeared to be the body. However, Munakata received notice that the right of investigation was moved to "Scepter 4" and that the police would only deal with the backup because it was a "male case" involving a person with special abilities. Police investigations have stopped.

Fushimi irritated his hair in front of Munakata, who insisted that they conduct an investigation.

"Isn't this dangerous? If it goes wrong..."

"Yes, we cannot do bad things. We will catch the criminal."

Fushimi's words were accepted and Munakata said in a rejecting tone.

"We cannot let criminals who get out of order and commit crimes go unchecked, and we cannot afford to ignore a private sentence that could involve hundreds of thousands of unrelated people."

Awashima took a breath in the current crisis that was clearly declared by Munakata.

Suoh wants to kill the "Colorless King". It was a possible future, where Awashima tried not to look ahead, feeling what would happen if he killed the King due to the instability of Suoh's Weissmann deviation.

Awashima reconsidered Munakata. The orderly "Blue King" did not disturb his calm and graceful face, his eyes beyond his glasses were calm, but his feeling was not always the same.

"Let's find the criminal. In our cause, without cloudiness."

They all corrected their attitude and welcomed Munakata's statement.

Awashima casually stopped next to Fushimi and walked side by side as they moved to their respective posts.

"Totsuka Tatara, who was killed, what kind of person was he in "Homura"?"

She asks Fushimi in a calm tone. She thought that he wouldn't reply deeply if he was astonished, but Fushimi looked at Awashima, and replied without emotion.

“He was a non-combatant. He mainly played the role of turning situations well, such as taking care of the education of newcomers or dealing with problems from his colleagues. Usually, Izumo Kusanagi was in charge of negotiations with the outside, but there were times when Totsuka was good at correctly engulfing the opponent in smoke and deceiving them."

Does it have a purpose to respond only with the performance without touching the personality? Awashima looked at Fushimi's profile. After all, his emotions don't show up there, but she felt that his always pale cheeks were paler than usual, probably because he woke up at dawn or because of the content of the news.

"Suoh Mikoto is…"

Awashima muttered as she recalled the "current crisis" she told Munakata.

"Even if he knew he would repeat the tragedy of 13 years ago, would he kill the 'Colorless King'?"

Nobody knows Suoh like Awashima. Awashima, the first member of the Munakata clan, was alongside Munakata when he first collided with Suoh. At that moment, Suoh laughed at Munakata's persuasion and concessions and removed his fangs. Facing Awashima, Munakata, who was always calm, disturbed his feelings at the situation of the fire beast or the disaster of the human form.

She believes that he is a terrifying man who has a violent orientation and destructive power. Awashima couldn't qualify that man, that even Munakata couldn't understand, he was immeasurable.

“The role of Tatara Totsuka. I think there was also an aspect like Suoh's security device."

Fushimi said bluntly. In the end it was a completely self-talking tone.

Before Awashima answered anything, Fushimi suddenly left Awashima.

++++++++++

A shot sounds.

The sound he doesn't know how many times, Kusanagi heard at the bar. The images taken by the old camera of Totsuka are converted into data and now played back on a personal computer. The video data was sent to the PDA of all the members of Homura to report the face of the criminal.

Seeing the images of his friend being killed over and over again gave him the feeling of falling asleep in his chest, but when anger and sadness find a place in his heart, those emotions are felt. No more irrational fuss. It may be okay to say that you are used to it.

Hearing the criminal boy make a name for himself, Kusanagi paused the video and spread the boy's hands. He intended to identify the type of weapon and follow the weapons acquisition route.

Kusanagi's PDA by his side, receives reports from "Homura" members one after another. Now they are gathering information about sightings around the building where Totsuka was killed and they go to the information store and the people behind the scenes to ask, but the results have yet to be achieved. There are many reports that members with blood on their heads were rude and had trouble, or had a fight with a member of “Scepter 4” who rushed in.

In particular, Yata, who is the leader of “Homura's” vanguard, was prone to ruin now because he was prone to getting caught in a direct path. He uses Kamamoto as an immobilizer to keep his balance, because otherwise he could hit some average person and hurt him. He was still a teenager and often played the role as his brother. Above all, it was Yata who saw Totsuka take his last breath, it can be said that it is reasonable.

As Kusanagi worked diligently, he heard footsteps descending from the second floor. Kusanagi removed his sunglasses and narrowed his eyes slightly, where the loud noise of stepping on the stairs and the soft noises of light weight, overlapping each other, made noise. "It's about time.", he mutters under his breath. Soon the other members will join as well.

Suoh and Anna appear at the bar. Anna's hand that was clinging to Suoh's back to hide in the middle, had a red flower. Anna held her in her hands, holding her to her chest.

The flowers were planned for everyone to give as a gift one by one on Anna's birthday. It seems that the rose that Totsuka gave to Suoh to give to Anna last night, was correctly given to Anna by Suoh. Kusanagi couldn't do it. The rose that could not be delivered or thrown away remains alive in a glass vase in Kusanagi's room.

Totsuka was supposed to give it to Anna when she brought that ribbon. He felt sad when he thought about the gift Totsuka prepared, but when he saw Anna holding the rose in her hand in an important way, he also thought that it was the best gift that could be given to Anna.

"Well, everything is ready."

Kusanagi stands up off to a good start.

"Anna, wait here. Mikoto..."

At the call, Suoh follows Kusanagi without answering.

As he climbed the stairs, Kusanagi looked back and saw Suoh behind him. A simple ring-shaped earring was on the cartilage part of Suoh's left ear, which follows Kusanagi after slightly dropping his line of sight. Sometimes it glowed red when it received light. Kusanagi turns forward, looking at the earring he's not used to in his ear.

"Do you think the boy who killed Totsuka is the 'Colorless King'?"

"Perhaps."

"Do you understand that between "Kings"?"

"No. It's just intuition."

Kusanagi sighed. It was a small sigh, but the exhaled emotions were heavy. The opponent is a "King". Kusanagi understood the meaning well.

"The previous seventh king, the 'Colorless King' Miwa, died in late September. After that, I don't know the story of the birth of the new 'Colorless King'. He was born in secret. We also don't know why he murdered Totsuka."

"Never mind."

It was an audible voice that he couldn't hear.

Suoh doesn't care who he is or why he did it.

Just find him and kill him. He's probably thinking that's enough.

Kusanagi said nothing more and approached Totsuka's body that was lying in Suoh's room on the second floor of the bar.

He closed his eyes and smelled the blood from Totsuka's cold body. There is not the piercing that he always wears in his left ear, just a small hole in the cartilage.

Behind Kusanagi, Suoh made a noise that lit a cigarette and the familiar smell of smoke wafted through. The smell of the cigarette slowly replaced the smell of blood.

Kusanagi looks at his friend's white eyelids, which no longer open.

The graceful face whose auditory hair casts a shadow on the blood-boiled cheek looked like a doll, and was like a stranger.

"Even though I'm always calm, I'm dying to face it."

From now on, he will be cremated with the flame of Suoh.

It was also the smoke from Homura's battle of retribution.

The body was burned near the sea.

Kusanagi and his friends, who were cheerful, spoke well and laughed at all times, lay silently and without expression in front of the coffin.

They couldn't erase Kusanagi's mood as if he was dying, his expression was so calm that he suddenly stood up and said, "Is it just a surprise?" And serious. Totsuka didn't wake up and closed his eyes with a disgusting look. The contrast between Anna's soft reddish color next to Totsuka and the pure white color of his skin, which is no longer bloody, stays strangely in the eyes.

The moment Totsuka was cremated it felt strangely quiet and calm. Only this time, everyone was filled with sadness and regret rather than anger, and Suoh seemed to be as clear as usual from the edge.

Suoh's flame of extraordinary power instantly burned the coffin that contained Totsuka, leaving nothing behind.

No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!

It was the last moment that he embodied the words of "Homura", but like the remains of Totsuka in this world, the earring that Totsuka wore shone on Suoh's left ear.

After three days.

It seems that the quiet moment of Totsuka's funeral was a dream, time was running out and it was too difficult.

"Homura" did his best to search for the criminal boy, and even the members who had little relation to Totsuka were burning with the spirit of battle and revenge.

When it's normal, there are a lot of nice people who get together and make stupid noises, and that's why they get excited like children to celebrate a girl's birthday, but once they get angry and have a fighting spirit, they burn like a flame and they don't fit in until the other part is burned.

Kusanagi usually sprinkles water on those people as needed to control them, but this time, Kusanagi lets them burn as well.

Using all kinds of information networks and some rough means, he was able to find out how the killer got the gun, although the whereabouts were unknown.

Kusanagi, who got the information at midnight, hurriedly returned to the HOMRA bar and made his way to the second floor room where Suoh was the first to live.

"Mikoto."

Suoh was lying on the couch in the room, lazy with a cigarette in hand. When he turned to Kusanagi, the long ash that had accumulated on the end of the cigarette fell to the ground.

"What happened?"

“I discovered the origin of the weapon that killed Totsuka. A multinational mob that wins a large business. Recently, it seems to have focused particularly on arms trafficking."

"I see."

"I need to ask the 'customer' who sold the weapon if he knows him or has a relationship with him. Muko-san doesn't speak so easily, but the time and effort of using the hands to fry is pitiful. I think I'll just take the elite around Yata and Kamamoto to the question."

"No."

Suoh with a low voice, carelessly interrupted him.

"I'm going too."

Kusanagi stared at Suoh's apparition, who said that while still in a lying limbs position, and blinked several times.

"When you go, it will be important."

"Yes."

"Even for the last few days, 'Scepter 4' has been keeping an eye on us. If you move there, maybe those guys will be out there big."

Suoh smiled.

He grabs the cigarette that has been too short, squeezes it in his fingers and extinguishes it with his own flame.

"Let me be."

In a word, Kusanagi somehow sensed Suoh's heart and sighed with a bitter smile.

“Goodbye to the plan, right? It's weird, but if you call, you can gather members right now."

“No, tomorrow is fine. You should take Anna with you to see if he's lying."

"I agree."

When he tested the calculations for tomorrow in his head and solved the difficulty, there was a voice from behind calling him, "Kusanagi."

When he turned around, Suoh had a mocking smile and cheered at Kusanagi lightly.

"Go to sleep."

Kusanagi slightly opened his eyes, squeezed his face for about two seconds, then bent down and shook his face.

"Yes, thanks."

"You can't sleep well all the time."

"I will return that word exactly as it is."

On the contrary, it seems that there are few humans who sleep properly after the incident among the members of "Homura".

But surely, he should have slept well. From now on the situation of having to move the head and body continues. He need sleep.

The same thing happened with Suoh, but Suoh shrugged slightly at Kusanagi's words.

"If you do it now, you will be asleep."

Guessing the meaning of the word, Kusanagi frowned.

From before, Suoh was sometimes "sleeping". While sleeping, control of the power is removed and the flame escapes accidentally, burning the walls of the room. It is usually when Suoh has a nightmare. He hasn’t asked in detail about his dream, but he can imagine.

Although it is true. He thinks now it's even better.

"No matter how much you sleep; you will not sleep."

Suoh chuckled slightly when he said that he had no words to say to the ground, neither poison nor medicine.

Probably tomorrow, he will meet "Scepter 4". If Suoh moves, so will the "Blue King" Munakata.

Kusanagi thought silently, looking at Suoh's expression, thinking that that might be a good thing.

++++++++++

That day was a very cold day.

However, if she walks alongside Suoh, the cold recedes.

Anna looked at the back of Suoh, who is walking at the beginning of "Homura". In the sight of Anna, the color of his power is visible from Suoh's body.

The most beautiful red than anyone.

Suoh, who was visible to Anna, always wore a clean red. Red has a terrifying power, but it is very beautiful and warm.

Even now, Suoh's red is transmitted to Anna from the hand that holds his jacket and warms Anna.

"Ok, let's go ask."

"Sorry, Shohei! Open the door first!"

"Ok, San-chan. I've worked part-time at a pizza parlor, so I can go naturally. I'll pretend to deliver pizza, and when the other door opens, they'll attack!"

"Yata-chan, run after the signal. Don't run ahead."

"Yes."

Behind Suoh and Anna, Kusanagi and his friends make the final confirmation.

From now on, "Homura" will attack a multinational mafia office.

According to a Kusanagi survey, the weapon that killed Totsuka appears to be a modified pistol sold by the mob. The criminal boy is unlikely to be a member of the mob, but it would be a great clue if there was a firearms trade between the mob and the boy.

Anna had a reason to accompany this storm. Anna has the ability to see through everything. Even if the other person is reluctant to give out information, Anna can reveal the lies and secrets.

Suoh's hand was clutching the lid of the lighter he had, playing with a clicking sound. In this way, Suoh's strong emotions do not flow towards Anna even when he is close to her. Suoh's emotions sank deep into Suoh, and the surface even seemed to calm down.

Suoh flips the lighter with the lid open and places it near the cigarette still in his mouth. There was a little noise.

Suoh turned around and looked at Kusanagi. Kusanagi cleared his eyes, followed by Suoh from behind and slightly raised his hand to greet him.

"Good, go ahead. Mikoto, come as slow as possible."

When Kusanagi said that, he passed Suoh's side and advanced, Yata and his colleagues bowed slightly to Suoh and continued.

Suoh and Anna became the only two to part with Homura's people, who were moving fast.

Anna takes a red marble out of her pocket.

She often uses this marble as a vehicle when using her sensitive abilities.

Anna looks at the monochrome world through red marbles. Suddenly, she saw small snowflakes fluttering from the sky.

Anna looks up at the sky. It was starting to snow. Small snowflakes fall in the wind as they dance. No wonder it's cold. It's cold today, like that night Totsuka died.

"Mikoto."

When Anna called softly, Suoh looked at Anna. Suoh's left ear glows red with the earring.

"Are you going to kill him?"

In response to Anna's question, Suoh makes a selfish smile.

"It's not that good."

Anna pursed her lips tightly and concentrated on her hand that was holding Suoh's jacket.

"Just do what you want to do."

Suoh's steps remain the same, slowly, but in a straight line without hesitation.

++++++++++

Sitting next to a mob member who was shaking after being beaten by Yata and his friends, Kusanagi was smoking slowly.

On the floor of the spacious mafia office, who had been drunk, there were men rolling on the floor after “Homura's” attack.

Sitting next to Kusanagi, a member of the mob staring with his swollen eyes, at his comrades sprawled on the ground. Kusanagi brings the image projected on the PDA closer to his eyes.

"So, this is the guy we are looking for…”

Speaking to a foreign mobster in English, he points out the image of a boy claiming to be the "Colorless King" who killed Totsuka.

"Look the gun he has. It's from your place. Don't you know anything about it?"

The mob executives just flinch and don't respond. The weapons they brought to this country, modified and distributed, killed Totsuka. They needed to be remembered carefully.

Kusanagi put his arm around the back of the couch where the mob member was sitting, and he spoke so low and close that his breath was very close to his face.

"Relax and take your time to remember."

At that moment, a roar was heard. Dust enters through the entrance that Kamamoto broke during the attack. It seems that more tough customers have arrived.

Kusanagi smirked. He wanted to shake it some more, but the King had already arrived.

A heavy step was heard from the dust. Suoh stands in a relaxed look, hidden behind him, a pretty girl looks uncomfortable in this place.

"King!" Yata, Kamamoto and other members of "Homura" bowed at the same time.

"It's early, Mikoto."

Kusanagi says that, the lower part of his eyebrows are lowered. Suoh paused for a moment as if he had come to the neighborhood for a walk.

Anna stepped out from behind Suoh's waist, and when she noticed the shaking member next to Kusanagi, she hurried to run.

A mafia man with a swollen face and a nosebleed looked scared at a doll-like girl. Perhaps another kind of fear was felt in the appearance of the girl who appeared in the middle of such a disaster.

Anna took a red marble out of her pocket and hung it in front of her left eye.

She is a Strain with unique abilities before she was a member of the Red Clan. Her eyes communicate with various things like the past and the future, distant places and human hearts, and "see" by her total feeling. There is no such thing as looking at the thought of a scared man. If it's still hard to see, just push a little harder and try to uncover the hidden stuff.

However, Anna, looking into the mafia man's eyes through the marbles, simply lowered her arm.

"He does not know it."

Anna's words spread an air of disappointment among the members of "Homura". There are no leads on the criminal. Although some sighs ended, Suoh seemed not to care and said in a low voice.

"Let's go."

Suoh turned his back on him slightly and started walking.

Unfortunately, the members of "Homura" chase after him, and Kusanagi also offers a sincere apology by raising a hand towards the crushed mob and continues.

Suoh did not use the regular entrance and exit, and hit the wall protruding from his body slightly on the nearest wall and made a large hole, and got out of there. It's exciting.

"Mikoto-san, Kusanagi-san."

Fujishima and Eric, who are the "Homura" members who were watching, run down the hall.

"The boys in blue are coming. It seems that riot police are also deployed on the first and second floors of the building."

Behind Fujishima's report, Eric also says with a strange face. "The "Blue King" is also coming out. It only hits the mafia, it's an overdone team."

"I'm sorry. Right now, the Blues should want to stop us, even if we push a bit. Normally we wouldn't squeeze as much as we did a bit of force to ask at the yakuza shop, but this time we want to catch ourselves the hard way. The harm to the general public by people with powers is a great cause for the Blues due to the violation of accord 120."

"Agreement?" Yata greatly distorted her youthful face.

"The damage to the general public was just the wall that flew off, right? If the Blues get in the way, let's attack!"

Kusanagi shrugged, with Yata's breath at his side, and put his hand on Anna's shoulder, which was attached to Suoh's back, and gently pushed her towards Fujishima and his friends.

"Anna, evacuate with Fujishima and Eric. It's going to be difficult."

Anna gently approached Fujishima and others, but looked at Suoh with concerned eyes. Suoh doesn't look at Anna, but starts walking again.

Kusanagi smiles and looks at his back, and puts his hand gently on Anna's head and follows Suoh.

A red flame arises again from Suoh's body and deflects. The flame breaks the wall of Suoh's hand slightly like chocolat and opens a path. Apparently, it seems that the structure of the building is completely ignored and a hole is drilled in the desired location.

Maybe he has settled on a horizontal route, or maybe he just wants to spit out the flames swirling around his body.

When he went down to the second floor, Suoh burned the wall again. A red, tsunami-like flame penetrates the wall easily and the heat melts nearby metal. The flames in Suoh still burned so that he couldn't calm down, a loud sparkling noise crackled under Suoh's feet, who stomped on the ground.

To be continued soon... Be patient, I will translate the chapter little by little.

[the-other-totally-normal-account]

Lobotomyhammer 40k: The Most Dangerous Enemies The Average “Clerk” Will Face

> OPEN FILE; ARTICLE 378-B OF THE CLERK REGIMENTAL STANDARD?

> [YES]       [NO]

...

... ...

Greetings, Clerk Omega-45978888402. Today, you will learn about two of the most common, and most dangerous foes you will face against. But do not fret or fear, Carmen Protects.

Here, we do not believe in sugar coating or downplaying threats, as that is likely to waste important resources, such as you.

SWEEPERS

They are named due to their tendency to "sweep" entire planets of all life; And to level with you, entire Regiments of Fixers and Clerks (Clerks just like you, mind you) have been reported to vanish without a trace besides a few distressed radio transmissions. They are often one of the most threatening entities one can encounter in the cold vastness of space, next to only Aleph class (and above, though those are rare) Abnormalities.

Their strength is that of their numbers, which is Legion. They are one of the more numerous threats you will have to face, though, thankfully, they do not often attack. When they do, however, it is devastating.

It is unknown exactly what they are, but they appear to be composed of a techno-organic shell, containing liquefied biomass inside. They need to regularly replenish this disgusting material in order to continue living; Like how we eat to survive, yet more dire.

Sometimes, citizens among those areas they "sweep" are reported by survivors as not having been liquefied for consumption. It is unknown where they are taken or what exactly happens to them, but theories and rumors are in abundance. It is best not to dwell on their fates, quite frankly.

Next up are the agents of the Great Enemy, Abnormalities.

ABNORMALITIES

Abnormalities are, as you have likely been informed during training, abominations that often must be purged from existence at all cost. One of the main threats they pose is that they have the tendency to corrupt those that encounter them, if they don't outright kill, so cleansing and oftentimes the "firing" of Clerks that encounter them often take place post conflicts.

Thankfully, "firing" is rarely done unless one is corrupted beyond repair, which often does not happen with the more common abnormalities, so you may rest easy after most engagements with Abnormalities.You will find a list below, however, of more dangerous Abnormalities, dangerous enough to have been cataloged by survivors and submitted to our archives. Some accounts may be obscured by personal hatred of the abnormalities mentioned on account of the experiences the aforementioned survivors had with them. Also, unlike other enemies you may encounter, they are far more diverse and varied than most. Thusly, it’s best to approach them if encountered as a unique entity instead of a greater part of a whole, despite that being exactly what they are.

ARCHIVED INFORMATION ON NOTABLE ABNORMALITIES

[The Blue Shepherd and his Infernal Hound. Threat Level: WAW] (Note: Especially cruel. Do not be taken alive if encountered. Recite prayer number 987 if encountered. It helped.)

[The Great Devourer. Threat Level: Teth] (Note: Remember that battlefields don’t have pretty glowing flowers sticking out of the ground. That’s this thing about to devour you if you’re tricked by it.)

[Infectious, Burning Love. Threat Level: Aleph] (Note by Veteran Clerk Alpha-118: That [EXPLETIVE OMITTED] turned half of my entire Regiment into mounds of bone and melted flesh. They were still moving and vocalizing and shrieking. If encountered, apply bullet to your skull.)

[The Greedy King. Threat Level: WAW] (Note: Stay behind It at all times. It's one of the dumber ones I've encountered.)

[The Ashen Child. Threat Level: Teth] (Note: If you're marked, you'll immediately be able to tell. You'll smell burning wood, and sometimes flesh. For the good of your comrades, die before it reaches you, or tactically retreat.) [Eurydice. Threat Level: Teth] (Note: Do not interact. Under any circumstance do not interact. Do not listen. Do not look. Walk away slowly. Don't look.) [The Mechanical War Machine. Threat Level: Teth] (Note: It's an oddly common one to encounter, and for that reason, a lot of information has been compiled on it by various regiments, but one of the most important parts is, perhaps, its origin. First appearance was during the Heresy, during a raid on a Sector that allied with The Sons of The Well. Unlike most Abnormalities, it seems like this one was made. It's unknown how this is even possible. It also seems to collect hearts. It's best to keep your distance from it and call in artillery support. Just don't let anyone die due to it, or, well, you don't want to see what happens. Also, it has a massive axe with a pretty decent reach on it. Don't get within range, though that goes without saying.) [The Brainless Scarecrow. Threat Level: HE] (Note: Tricky, vile [EXPLETIVE OMITTED]. If you're above the minimum education- why are you even a Clerk in that case- needed for getting a job at a Conglomerate Factory, keep your distance and set up a firing line. If you have a flamer, even better. It's a bit of a weakling if you've got enough manpower. On your own, pray for your life and run.) [The Living(?) Apple Threat Level: WAW] (Note: Burn it before the vines get you. I doubt you've ever seen a man be impaled [EXPLETIVE OMITTED] to mouth by a vine before but you're going to if you encounter this thing. Only thing you can do is prevent as many needless deaths as you can, really. Good luck.] [The Beautiful Beast. Threat Level: Teth] (Note: Do not interact. Do not under any [EXPLETIVE OMITTED] circumstance even remotely think about attacking this thing. You really, really don't want to know what happens to the person who manages to kill it in a futile attempt to send it back to where it came from) [The Patchwork Abomination. Threat Level: HE] (Note: PULSATING EYES. EMPTY. STITCHES. DEATH OF INNOCENCE. WRITHING ORGANS.) [Alriune The Crumbling. Threat Level: WAW] (Note by Veteran Clerk Alpha-118: Destroy it as fast as possible, before it relocates and causes an entire squad or something to lose their minds violently. Also, tip, if you notice those floating petals, take the thing out before there's a large amount of them. It's an odd sort of timer, I've found.) [The Queen Bee and Her Hive. Threat Level: WAW] (Note: Do not inhale the spores. If your regiment has helmets that use filters, consider yourself one of the luckiest people alive- hopefully, at least.  If you don't have helmets like that, you probably have melta charges. If you inhale the spores, I hope you know how to use one and are willing to give your life to Her and Her corporation.) [The Shard of The Galaxy. Threat Level: Teth] (Note: Plug your ears with something. Anything. If you don't have anything to do that with, consider deafening yourself. You can always get implants later.) [The Jittering Doll. Threat Level: HE] (Note: If she tries to give you a present, punt that little [EXPLETIVE OMITTED] across the battlefield. It's fairly stupid and mindless so you can probably pick it up and use it as a meatshield or sandbag if the need be. It has the annoying tendency to survive a ridiculous amount of punishment, though.] [The Butterfly's Burial. Threat Level: HE] (Note: Utilizes ranged attacks heavily. Engage in glorious melee combat from behind or pelt with grenades. Either way tends to work) [The Black Swan's Nightmare. Threat Level: WAW] (Note: Take great care when it comes to the lookalikes. If you do something they don't like or harm them, be prepared for a difficult fight with a massive mutated bird-like abomination and brace for casualties. To be honest, I'm not even sure what a swan is but if that's even remotely similar to what one looks like, I don't want to know.) [The Sleeping Carcharodon. Threat Level: WAW] (Note: Back off and don't provoke it. You do not want to be ran through by a drug addled... fish thing(?) going at ridiculous speeds, I'm sure. I've seen all of my squadmates die from that, and only managed to survive because I was taking a piss in the corner in the shell of a bombed out building.) [The Burrowing Tree. Threat Level: WAW] (Note: If you have servitors, order them to watch it. If you don't, I highly advise you to either end yourself before it gets an opportunity to turn you into a really messed up Carmenmas tree, or if you're confident enough try your luck and keep eye contact.) [The Mountain of Wailing Corpses. Threat Level: Aleph] (Note by Veteran Clerk Alpha-118: I sincerely feel bad for you if you have the misfortune to encounter this abomination. Melta and Flamer weaponry do wonders against it, but not all regiments have that kind of equipment. If you do, start burning corpses once it's spotted. Good luck.) [The Observer. Threat Level: HE] (Note: Look away if you don't enjoy being split in two by massive buzzsaws. Also, Abnormalities apparently are manifestations of human concepts, feelings, stories, traumas, and things we experience; But for the life of me I can't figure out what this thing even is supposed to be. It's just... awful. Anyway, call an artillery strike on the thing before it's too late if you encounter it.) [The Dimensional Refraction. Threat Level: WAW] (Note: [EXPLETIVE OMITTED]  [EXPLETIVE OMITTED]  [EXPLETIVE OMITTED]  [EXPLETIVE OMITTED]  [EXPLETIVE OMITTED]. This thing, this [EXPLETIVE OMITTED] thing. Newly emerged Abnormality, I'm a survivor of perhaps the first encounter with it. Almost the entirety of my regiment was wiped out by this abomination. 1,000 lights snuffed out in a blink, suffocated and pulled apart violently. We couldn't fight it. We couldn't see it. By sheer chance it was discovered that it could be viewed with Thermal and even then we couldn't deal meaningful damage to it. The vessel we were on was blown to bits as a handful of us managed to escape. Carmen protect you all.) [The Event Horizon. Threat Level: Aleph] (Note: I've seen the end of all things, the ultimate, finality of everything that ever was and will ever be. And it was heart shaped. I'm probably going to be "fired" shortly. Remember that there's no hope if you see the Blue Star.] [The Shy One. Threat Level: Teth] (Note: This one is very finicky. Best to leave it alone. It's harmless unless you catch it in a bad mood or take a peak behind the curtain.) [The Dreaming Void. Threat Level: Teth] (Note: I hope you have Recaff on hand and enough people who are insomniacs to wake everyone else when this thing shows up. If you don't, chances are you're going to fall asleep and never wake up. Also, don't attack it, even if people are dying due to it. It will raise your chances of death from "possible" to "completely screwed".) [CENSORED] (NOTE: CENSORED FOR YOUR SAFETY) [He's Not There. Threat Level: Aleph] (Note: Don't trust anyone around you if there's even the slightest chance this thing's around. It's gotten really good at acting since it was first encountered ages ago. You will die painfully, horribly, and you will be used as a skin suit by this abomination. And, if one of your squadmates suddenly says that they love you, put them down without hesitation. Whether it was genuine, or whether it was this thing wearing them, it doesn't matter; You may have just prevented a disaster. Don't express sorrow for the loss of a possible happy future if you were mistaken, it was for the good of all mankind. ...And, got to admit, it sucks that these things always come back, never truly dying.)