#mad king kain

[sabraeal]

The Sword Between, Chapter 5

[Read on AO3]

Blue silk settles over her like an estranged acquaintance; two years ago it had fit like a second skin, but now it squeezes at the bust and requires far fewer petticoats to pad out her hips. The hem, however, settles perfectly— a finger’s breadth above the the floor, just as it always had. A terrible way to learn she hasn’t grown a single, vertical inch since seventeen. Makiri will be practically unlivable.

“Such a pretty color, my lady.” Ami’s hands smooth over the skirt, coaxing out the creases that linger at her waist. Haki is half-tempted to tell her not to bother; it’s a fabric that begs to be rumpled, the furrowing above her hips only serving as a reminder of how hands might sit there, silk wrinkled in their grip. Of how easily it might crumple beneath the slightest pressure, like petals plucked from a flower's stem.

The last time she had worn this dress, she'd been more concerned about whether her prince might find her singing voice pretty, or hear rumors of her fair face and be tempted to sneak north simply for a glimpse of it than what an enterprising young man and a willing young lady might get up to in Wilant's dark corners. But Lowen had been her age now-- older, if she does not mistake her figures, though not by much-- and more than ready to contemplate such arrangements. Had he thought of it even as he knelt before her, head bowed in deference, swearing to protect her body with his own? Had he gazed up at her with that that placid mask of his, still as a lake's surface, and felt the first ripples of--?

“His Highness will surely think it suits.”

Haki's secretive smile sours to a pout. “I look young.”

Feels young is more like it, fingering the fall of lace at her décolletage. She’d been little more than a child the last time she donned this particular frock, and it’d been a season out style even then, the seamstresses of the city unable to keep up with the rush to raise bust lines and drop hemlines and overhaul sleeves altogether. But she had been proud of this one, so unlike the other gowns father had gotten for her— practically modern and made with silk bought off Tanbarunian traders instead of salvaged from one of Mother’s old gowns. A fairy tale of a dress, a dream, and...

And she’d put it away with all the others when the first prince had made clear he was in no rush to settle down with a lady wife. Yet here she was now, trotting it out to spin another story for a child even younger than she. There was poetry in that, perhaps, even if it was only the sad kind.

“Boys like His Highness do prefer a youthful lady,” Ami muses, gaze meeting hers in the mirror. “At least, if he’s naught but sixteen, as your father’s man says.”

Haki hardly misses the stress on that— your father’s man. As if she could not lay the same word's at Ami's feet-- her father's maid, paid to make sure all of her most embarrassing escapades ended up in the duke's ear.

“A pity there’s no time to have me done up in ringlets.” Fine hairs flyaway from the loose braids behind her ears; she smooths them down. “It would have made for a much more convincing ingénue.”

Ami is not the sort to smirk or sneer, but there is a twitch at the corner of her lips, a wryness that not even her scrupulous good manners can smother. “You are hardly old enough to need tricks for that, my lady. Sir Lowen is right” —as much as she is loath to admit it now, her sigh says— “it would be little hardship to fall in love with you in this dress.”

She doubts that this prince will be moved to devotion by a frock near three years out of date or by the older woman wearing it, but she must admit-- there is some charm left to it. The blue brings out the palest shades of her eyes and complements the most honeyed tones in her hair; a far cry from the humble damsel awaiting her rescue, but a fairy tale princess nonetheless.

“One can hope,” she breathes, hand splayed over the fabric at her belly. “Or at least fair enough to inspire some foolishness.”

Ami hums; a melody that swings between agreement and agitation with every note. “Certainly more reasonable men have made themselves fools for you.”

It’s a pointed remark, for all that she can’t think of a single one. The men who frequent Wilant are friends of her father, old enough to have children her own age. Few of them spare her a glance, save if they have a son her age, though those have been few and far between since her betrothal. There are soldiers of course— guardsmen who care more about Makiri’s skill than her conversation— and servants, but none that—

“Is there anything else I’ll be needing to take care of, my lady?” Ami asks, solicitously smoothing out the lace at her shoulder. And yet her gaze fixes elsewhere in the mirror, somewhere over Haki’s shoulder. The door to the sitting room, as if she’s waiting for someone to walk through. A ridiculous worry with Lowen guarding the door. “Anything that needs an extra cleaning?”

Her gaze cuts towards where the dressing screen sits, toile covered in scenes of young ladies picnicking and small dogs running over picturesque stone ruins. There’s not a stain on it, as cream-and-teal as it was the day she’d had it brought it, hoping that it might help keep the heat in around her—

Her bed. A pertinent question for a maid to ask after she had been sent away for the night, assured that there would be another set of hands to help her charge undress. Who had only seen a rumpled mess of sheets when she arrived in the morning, fire lit by an expert’s hands. And now with whatever she had seen in the hall…

Well, if she had thought her reflection young before, her flush makes it positively childish now. “N-no. There’s no need to—”

It’s mortifying to try to put the night into words. How close she had trod to impropriety, only to be rebuffed. How sure she was of his interest even so, only for yet another prince to put himself between them. Oh, if that Bergatt boy put himself before her right now and asked if she would like to see the end of the Wisteria reign, she could hardly be responsible for the answer she might give.

A practiced breath draws her upright, shoulders square as her father had taught her— you are my daughter, he would grunt, holding them straight in his hands, there are few to whom you must bow, and none to whom you must bend. It is not a sweet young princess that looks back at her in the mirror, but a lady of the North, ready to defend her walls.

“There is nothing with which you must concern yourself with,” she says with all the ice her blood can summon. “I think you will find your hands full already, trying to find more dresses that will please His Highness during his stay.”

“As you say, my lady.” Ami bows her head, as a servant ought, but it does little to conceal her smile— or her relief. “Though I’m sure there will be quite a few, if I look among some of your older wardrobe.”

It takes a concerted effort not to grimace. She too had been a more whimsical girl once, as taken with fairy stories as she was with the old lays, dreaming of knights and their ladies. Of princes disguised and true love’s kiss. “They will need to be retrimmed.”

“Of course.” There’s a fondness as Ami lays her hand on a trunk, a wistfulness Haki cannot quite understand. “I’ll see to it.”

“Good.” She steps down from the mirror with a sigh, her dress rustling after her like leaves in the underbrush. “I’ll need all the help I can get.”

*

Lowen is on his feet when she sweeps into the parlor. Odd; for all his much vaunted skill in the ring— a beast with a blade in his hand, Makiri had always told her, like he’s fighting for his life— her guardsman always seemed more apt to lounge than lunge outside it. And yet as he stands there, attention drawn to the angle of her entrance, his weight shifts in a way that implies movement rather than repose.

“Come.” It would be simple to brush too close as she passes him, to let their eyes meet in a gaze so heavy it might well be a caress, but she bustles past instead, careful to keep even the barest hint of ruffle from slipping over his boots. “My father calls.”

It is not until her toes cross the carpet’s edge that she realizes their are no footfalls behind her, that Lowen has not fallen into step, using that rangy stride of his to eat up the distance between them. No, when she glances over her shoulder, he is still where she last left him, hands curled to fists at his side.

“Sir.” There is a layer of reproach as she speaks, covering the concern beneath it. “He is waiting.”

His fingers twitch, the barest flinch. “Are you certain?”

Haki does not turn to him— that would be a concession too far, a confession with a dearer cost than she can afford— but her shoulder does lower. “That Father waits?”

“No.” Lowen hardly allows a thought to stray across his face, let alone wears his heart on his sleeve, but there is something that lurk beneath the gaze he fixes on her, a castigation and a plea all in one. “That it is wise to bring me.”

A princess does not allow her mouth to thin, does not let her eyebrows angle to imply impatience; a good thing, then, that Haki is not one yet.

“Sir, if there is anything that I am certain of, it is that.” She shifts— not a ceding of ground, but a firming of resolve. A planting of her feet, gaining better leverage to yank on his leash. “Come. You would not have your lady go to battle without her knight.”

Still, he remains unmoved. Not even the barest sway to show he’s heard her.

“Is that what this is?” he says after a long moment. “A battle?”

Her mouth works for a moment, uncertain. “What else can it be? If my father were to bend any more…”

Then the North would be broken. On one side would be the ones who still clung to Father’s prudence, who would see profit in playing Wistal’s games, and on the other—

Well, it had been said once that the stones between Wilant and Oriold would never wash clean. That even now, when the snows melt, the side of the roads run red. The lords of the North may play at civility now, nodding at the southern court’s fashion of love and courtly graces, but that only hides the histories written with bloodied hands.

Lowen breathes, eyes fluttering shut as he takes it in, but when they open—

There is steel there. A resolve that does not waver. “Then let us go to battle, my lady.”

*

She is too aware of Lowen as they make their way through Wilant’s halls; aware of how his gaze lingers on her, tracing the fall of lace along her collar and dragging down the silken curve of her waist. Aware of the space between them, just enough for an arm to reach across and grab, for the inches to disappear between them and to finally finish the conversation Ami had so unfortunately interrupted.

It’s tempting to turn, to catch his eyes and invite the sort of resolution it would bring. But even though his stare burns hot enough to catch her alight, he does not speak. Not a single word to draw her attention, not a single brush of skin against skin to call her to him. Although her legs tremble effort with the effort to keep putting one slipper in front of the other and her neck aches from keeping it angled straight ahead, he does not stop her, not once.

It is too important, she realizes. For all that she wants to clutch at Lowen’s shoulders and ask just what thought churn behind that stare of his, it is a distraction she can ill afford. Her father’s plans are balanced on a blade’s edge, and it is her who decides which way their fortunes tip.

She will not disappoint him.

It is still Arleon guards on the door to the great hall, and they move aside before she even utters, “My father is expecting me.”

A single step inside is enough to know why: the prince’s party has already arrived. Still covered in the dust from the road by the looks of it, harried and eager to be shown to the privacy of their chambers. By the wary angle of the royal guards’ shoulders, Father and Makiri have resorted to thin excuses to keep them here. Waiting for her.

With a steeling breath, she nods to the footman at the door. “Lady Haki,” he announces, the slightest tremble in his voice. He’s not used to such esteemed visitors, it seems. “First daughter of his lordship, the Duke Arleon.”

If she thought she might have trouble picking out the prince from among all this white and blue and broad shoulders, she is saved the trouble; his party drops to show the deference due to a duke’s daughter, leaving only a single one of them on his feet.

The queen consort had sent her a gift once, during the months in which her father and the king dickered over the finer points of her betrothal of the first prince— a miniature, done fully in oils, of Izana himself. Long engagements may be prudent, she had written in her elegant hand, letters looping across the page, but they often are lonely. Let this satisfy both your company and your curiosity.

He could not have been more than fifteen, maybe sixteen when he had sat for the portrait, but even so, there was a gravity to that narrow face, a piercing quality to the deepness in his eyes. A regal tilt to his pointed chin, a knowing that lingered in this corners of his mouth; strangely serious for a prince who would become more known for parties than policy. Not yet a man, but she could see the one he would make once the last of childhood was stripped from his cheeks.

What they have sent her now is hardly more than a child.

His brother’s portrait might have hinted at manhood, but this boy— his face is still round, baby fat still clinging stubbornly to his bones. Perhaps there is a threat of a heavy jaw lingering there, a promise of something masculine and square opposed to Izana’s more feminine angles, but it is impossible to tell beneath those full cheeks, flushed and flawless as a doll’s. His hair is cut the same way of his brother’s, but instead of falling with a stately sort of grace across his forehead, it is a dandelion’s tuft, baby-fine and untamed.

“Ah, Your Highness.” Father’s gaze holds hers for a long moment before it drops to the would-be heir,  meeting his wide eyes with no hint of his displeasure. “You have yet to meet the reason for all our celebration, I assume. Haki” — his hand sweeps out, beckoning— “come. Greet our honored guest.”

She doesn’t not so much walk as float down the runner of the Great Hall, skirts swaying as if it is only clouds that ruffle their hem, not carpet. It takes hours of practice to turn that which is earthly to the ethereal, but Haki had long shouldered every ache and tumble in the name of causing her prodigal husband to swallow his tongue at the altar.

There is something far less satisfying about inspiring the same reaction in his brother. “It is an honor that you have come for so humble an occasion, Your Highness.”

“Of course.” His voice is reedy, not quite finished changing even if she can hear the man in it. It breaks at her flawless curtsy, flustered. “I mean, the honor is mine. It is hardly every day that we can celebrate such a fine young lady becoming a woman.”

It’s the sort of thing a fond uncle might say, not a boy four years her junior, but Haki smiles nonetheless, hoping it does not sit as stiff as it feels. “You are too kind, sir.”

“Not at all,” he insists with a graciousness that would seem more natural on a man three times his age. “It is its own sort of accomplishment. To be, er…”

“Twenty.” When Makiri smiles it is all teeth, a wolf scenting blood on the snow. “That’s how old my sister is. Old enough to get married now, according to your southerners, isn’t it?”

The prince is too earnest— and his skin far too pale— to cover the flush that blooms up his neck, painting him pink from collar to brow. “T-that is true. But, erm…” His gaze casts about, trying to find a safe place to perch. “Ah, b-but I haven’t yet introduced my party. Sirs…?”

One of the men rises— dark hair shorn short enough that she can see a neck as brown as a laborer’s, far from the lily white of the noble son knelt beside him. He unfurls to a startling height with the same lassitude as the castle’s cats, as if he was only ever on his knees because it pleased him to do so. There’s a cant to his mouth that only supports the implication, but when she raises her eyes to meet his eyes—

She flinches. There’s a scar there— a gouge, badly healed, that stretches from cheek to cheek.

“Sir Zakura Shidnote, my lords— and lady.” He nods at her, mouth tilting toward a smirk. “Lately of the Royal Knight’s Circle. And this is Sir Michel” — his hand cuts toward the noble son getting to his feet, a boy just about Makiri’s age, though he carries it better— “one of the more promising squires from our last bout of new blood.”

“I’m a knight, really,” the young man insists, pushing back the hair that’s flopped over his eyes. “Though I am, ah…new, my lord.”

“Just earned your accolades, is it?” Father may not be a man of smiles, but his eyes crinkle at the corners, warm. “My son—”

“Earned them two year ago,” Makiri interjects acidly, brows bent in his most surly scowl. As if that would help him look any older than his scant years.

Practically a veteran, she almost says, but there is not enough wide-eyed sincerity in her to cover the bite. As much as she might like to tease, she hardly needs to be reminded: they are not among friends.

“Just so.” Father squints the way he does at their accounts, tallying up the men before him. “Did you not have another man in your party?”

“Ah, yes, Sir Mitsuhide.” The prince's mouth pulls thin before he recollects himself, grimace turning to boyish grin. “My apologies, I had hoped for all of us to be here to greet you, but time was short, and there was an issue with our…baggage. We left him to sort it out with your staff.”

Father’s mouth turns stern. “Then should it not be I who apologies to you, Your Highness? If there was some issue, then surely—”

“Ah, no no! This was, er…our fault,” His Highness insists, oddly guilty. “I’m afraid my mother insisted on one last gift, even after all the carriages had been packed tight! It changed…quite a lot of our travel plans.”

“I see,” Father murmurs, though it’s quite clear he does not. He is not a man of last-minute anythings, let alone travel plans.

“But he will be here for the formal reception, of course!” The prince smiles, bright. “He wouldn’t miss it�� he’s a northerner, trained at your very own Sereg.”

“Sereg.” Now her brother straightens in his seat, an excited sheen in his eyes. “So he’s skilled, then?”

“Some,” Sir Zakura drawls, a corner of his mouth creeping up his cheek. “Enough that the king requested him by name.”

“By name…?” Now it is her father who leans in, brow furrowed. “You cannot mean— Mitsuhide Lowen?”

The prince nods, pleased. “The very same.”

“I’ll be damned.” Father settles back in his seat. “I nearly asked him here, before His Majesty snapped him up. He was one of Sereg’s finest swords. ”

Sir Zakura smirks. “And now he is one of Wistal’s.”

“Lowen?” Haki keeps her voice low, pitched for only her and her shadow to hear. It's a curious coincidence, considering how closely her knight has always played his card to the chest. “Is there any relation to…?”

Her chin tilts, hoping to catch his eye-- or at least the angle of his mouth, but--

But when she slants her eyes to his usual place at her shoulder, there is nothing behind her but empty air.

[loxosceleslolo]

Legacy of Kain hot takes no one asked for:

1. I honestly hope the new comic and any reboots or sequels are the wokest woke things that ever woked.

2. There is no heterosexual explanation for Kain et al's leather pants and bondage gear. Especially not the Blood Omen 2 variants.

3. It's been 20 years and I'm still mad that the only female characters with more than a couple lines are the sad ghost girl and Ms. Fanservice.

4. I would be super disappointed if Raziel came back for a sequel. I think his arc in the series was so beautiful--the only person in the world with free will? And he chooses to sacrifice himself and embrace a destiny he could have eschewed so his vampire dad-husband-king has a fighting chance to unfuck Nosgoth? Ugh it's so good. Bringing him back would cheapen that.

5. Sassy talking sword Raziel would be pretty funny, though

[estinininininen]

"Look Me In The Eyes" , FFIV, ~1600 words. Why is Kain an even bigger weirdo after the Giant of Babil? General admission, e for everybody, but mild cw: transformation and body horror.

Kain knew he behaved differently after the Giant of Babil.

This was not unexpected, although how he changed surely confused them. Many things, like flinching when offered a hand, were understandable. But now he never took his armor off in front of others, not even his helm. Before, it had been on him near-constant anyway - the armor's boots and gloves were critical for absorbing impact. It took a few days for them to notice he bathed and changed privately, no small feat in close quarters, and moments before sleep. He even wore a low-fitting cap and gloves in his bedroll, no matter how warm. Just as often he slept in his armor.

As they hurtled towards the Red Moon in the mechanical whale, they told him it was conjured up from beneath the Mysidian bay. Now that he was free, perhaps, of Golbez - no, Zemus - Kain could tell them of Golbez's odd fits and starts that had increased whenever discussing Cecil, even before Zot. Kain had either dismissed these, or, when lucid but still under control, been forced to forget. This being all the useful information Kain had for Cecil, Kain retreated from the conversations.

He heard them talking about him, of course. They would either trust him, or must needs be ready to kill him, so what was one more oddity. Kain sat and thought about what had happened to him during his brief second time with Golbez.

"I had but slackened your friend's leash, waiting for the proper moment to pull it taught."

He could do this. He would have to do this. He was now one of the strongest people on Earth - the Blue Planet, as these Lunarians called it. And Zemus had done this to him, and to a ten-year-old child that became Golbez. He couldn't stand aside. He had spoken truly when he said his mind was his own again.

There were complications. Had he revealed anything, when they met Lugae? He didn't think so. His revulsion for the mad doctor was for cowardice, at first, until they had stumbled upon the . . . the remainders of Edge's parents. He had forgotten something, something important about the holiness he once felt in the frame of a healthy human body. Of the long, waking dream that kept him just a bit asleep in Golb- Zemus's thrall, the eyes of the King and Queen of Eblan had almost shocked him out of it.

Almost.

And now before thinking he had told Edge to kill him if he betrayed them, and so it was not only Kain's own cowardice that kept him from revealing the full extent of his betrayal. Compassion had returned to Kain's heart and head, and ruined him. He did not want Cecil or Rosa to have to kill him, and now he added Edge to that list. What would Kain's eyes look like, if he had to beg for death?

His mind was his own again.

Golbez loomed over him. "I have no others. No one is here but you, Kain. You returned to me. I would reward such loyalty. No matter what failures from before. I . . . I failed you too, did I not? What have I . . ."

Golbez shook his head and his drifting attention snapped back to Kain.

"Did I not promise you power, even that to rival the dragon-knights of old? And I have one scale of the shadow dragon. My oldest friend. Now I have no others. No one but you . . . "

Before they plunged into the lunar subterrane, Kain's focus drifted towards the eastern lunar horizon. He could not say why. "What is in that direction?" he asked.

Among all the lunar marvels was something that had astonished even this intrepid group. They talked over each other.

"I still don't believe it-"

"We turned a corner and he was just, there, Kain, it was amazing-

"Oh buddy, you have got to go see this after we're done here-" Edge said, and Rydia smashed her hands across his face to keep him from ruining the explanation of something important to her. Edge licked her hand. Rydia ignored him. They had settled along the way into annoying each other like siblings.

"Bahamut," she said. "Bahamut lives in the Cave of the Father, over there. I'll take you after-"

"No! No," said Kain, his vehemence surprising even him. He had only ever spoken softly to Rydia.

The four turned to him, Rydia shocked and a bit hurt, Edge at once suspicious, Cecil and Rosa confused.

Kain stammered. "I don't - I don't want to go is all. I apologize for raising my voice." Edge scowled. He needed to give more explanation. "I . . . I don't want to face him," Kain said. "I can't."

They winced and after a moment, even Edge nodded in sympathy.

In the furious, terrible days that followed, his comrades thought perhaps Kain had horrible scarring, from punishment for betraying Zemus. Or perhaps an aversion to touch because that was how Golbez ensared him to begin with. He was lucky Rosa could heal him still, and heal him through armor.

Kain was thankful no one pried. Not even Edge. He showed it as best he could. Sometimes he whispered or croaked and it was not because of awkward contrition. Would his voice leave him, too?

Rydia a few times frowned at him, not with what would be judicious suspicion but with plain curiosity. She was the shortest, and at times could see under more of Kain's helmet than he was comfortable.

They won against Zeromus.

Kain felt less jubilant than just relieved and tired. His friends and his world were safe. Now his personal battle would begin.

Baigan passed Kain in the hallway of Baron. The dragoon noticed the smirk and thought, with good humor that surprised him, that at least Baigan had not changed. Then Baigan's arm brushed Kain and Kain shivered before he even knew to think something was wrong.

Turns out Baigan had changed quite a bit. His smirk grew. "Lord Golbez is sure to reward those truly loyal," he said.

His mind was his own again. His mind.

Golbez asked Fusoya, "Might you permit me to accompany you?" and Kain, pitiful creature that he was, panicked for a moment that Golbez had forgotten him. Forgotten to help him if he could. Or perhaps hated him, for taking the last piece of Golbez's one true companion, the dragon that stayed beside him without mind control.

But then Golbez said, "I cannot return. Not after all I've done," and he looked at the five Earthlings. His gaze hesitated on Kain for a moment, so quick no one noticed. In Kain's thoughts, in the hole at the back of his mind, he felt an awareness of Golbez, hesitating to contact him like this at all. This time though it was as . . . equals in contrition.

He gave the bizarre feeling of agreement in keeping their privacy, wordless, more like a curtain falling, which was why he was touching Kain's thoughts at all. A gift from sinner to sinner, a chance to sort out thoughts alone without revealing how far they had fallen by asking for help out loud.

And Kain had the sudden knowledge Golbez could do nothing to help him.

He had expected this. It was not as disappointing as it might have been. Kain's attention snapped back in time to help convince Cecil he should say goodbye to Golbez.

Very little important to Kain happened while they returned and celebrated. He stayed alone until he escaped from the love and concern of his friends and a thankful world. He climbed Mount Ordeals and looked out over a sacred, isolated cliff, and took off his helmet.

His hair, his one remaining vanity, was still long and blond and - human. It felt good in the wind. So too did the sensitive nubs of bone and frill, growing from the crown of his brow. He had started worrying he would need to file them down. Scales grew along his forehead and were soon to reach to his eyes, crawl down his nose, and bloom where all could see.

Their victory couldn't have come any later. He almost hadn't made it.

Sometimes his eyes hurt, and felt strange focusing, and he knew they had turned to slit pupils. He had not brought a mirror. Were they still his natural color?

Perhaps because he kept his mind, and somebody answered his prayers, the lower half of his face remained unchanged the longest and his outline human. Perhaps it was somebody on this very mountain - it was holy to Bahamut and others long before KluYa's spirit rested here. But under the armor there were no parts of him without . . . spottings of scales. Ridges and spines growing. Aching bones of limb anatomy preparing soon to stretch or shrink into digitigrade. He wondered if he would start walking on his toes.

His tailbone and shoulders hurt.

Golbez had kept his promise about power to rival the dragon-knights of old.

Yet dragons were not evil, not like the monsters that moved among animals and that others had been turned into. If the pain in his shoulder blades was an indication, he was not becoming the literal shadow dragon. It had no wings. And Baigan had been able to change form at will.

His mind was his own again, and after everything, Kain still had hope.

On the day of the wedding he spoke into the wind, wondering if it mattered. "Cecil . . . Rosa . . . I have no right to bear witness to your joy. Not like this.

"I will temper myself here, on Mount Ordeals. And then, when I've become an even finer dragoon than my father- perhaps then I can return. Until that day comes, I can but wish you well."

[kairiscorner]

i srsly can't help myself from making these

gojo satoru x filipino reader

• he fucking plays with the damn lato-latos (dk how to pronounce it properly pls help) EVERY DAMN DAY.

• i can imagine he plays with it on his own, while he's watching over his students from outside the barrier when they're on missions, when pissing off nanami, ESPECIALLY AROUND YOU, THE CLICKITY CLACKITING NEVER STOPS AND IT DRIVES YOU INSANE 😭😭😭

• he def listens to iv of spades or itchyworms, if he's feeling dramatic, he'd listen to regine or lea salonga.

• when you came home to him, exhausted and overworked, he turned on the karaoke machine he bought without you knowing and put on "gusto ko nang bumitaw" and sang it from the bottom of his lungs.

• he bought a karaoke machine to impress your relatives, he vibes with the noisiest ones but hates the chattiest ones fr 😭

• he has mastered the art of saying, "putangina niyo !" (it angered your relatives a little at how he says it so casually, without hesitation, but you didn't teach him that–your anger towards work/school/every/anything else did; yasz i swear when mad too ok 🫂)

• he loves mang inasal fr, that's where he hangs out if the kfc is full. if not mang inasal, JOLLIBEE 🫂🫂🫂

• he's a chocnut kid ok.

• he hoardes the chocnut away from you and indulges in it when he knows you're on a diet, HE'D EAT 3 WHOLE ASS PACKS IN FRONT OF YOU SHAMELESSLY.

• he likes the tinikling dance, but he gets sad when he dance to the notes on time, he wanted to know what it was like to get slammed at the ankles by the bamboo :[

• but it's worth it seeing you have fun dancing with him

• he gets scared of the flying cockroaches.

• "mahaaaaaal..." "ipis ba nanaman?" "yes........" "yan kasi, kain ka ng kain ng chocnut sa kwarto, alam mo naman makalat kang kumain hayup ka"

• he calls you the king/queen of the slipper bc you not only use it to slay those wicked cockroaches, you are mighty great at hitting him with it whenever you please :>

• HE ALSO LOVES CALLING YOU "MAHAL", IF NOT MAHAL, IT'S "BEBE KO"

• "mahaaaaal, i'm home", "bebe kooooo, can i have a hug?", "mahaaaaal, what did i do this time?", "bebe kooooo, they were being such putangina fuckers ! how could i nooooooot?"

• he loved kadenang ginto fr, it was too iconic for him. "OH MY GOD KASSIE" = "OH MY GOD MEGUMI" (he relentlessly memes it on megumi bc he can :>)

• surprisingly, he picked up on tagalog really fast. he treats your parents with respect, but he thought to call them "lolo at lola" instead of "ma at pa", he only called them the latter when he overheard your parents complain about how disrespectful that lolo lola thing was to their age 😭😭😭

• he wants to try all your childhood favorite foods, he LOVES TAHO.

• he fucking freaked when team yey had a filipino dub of digimon, he binged that the whole weekend.

• a couple of kids in your barangay challenged him to basketball (bc mf is so tall, they wanted a challenge) AND HE WHOPPED THEIR FUCKING ASSES SO BAD, HE CARRIED HIMSELF 🫂🫂🫂

[necromancer-4-hire]

Random LOK: Personal quotes

Kain: I was impaling your grandfather when you were a mere topic of discussion between your mother and the bishop...

Raziel: You need help and I'd be willing to pay for it...

Janos: I may be kind but I wasn't born yesterday...

Vorador: Well I like four-somes but we can't have everything we want!

Turel: Maybe if I shut my eyes all the stupid people will go away

Dumah: I f*cked your mom

Rahab: No I'm not helping you cheat your way through life

Zephon: I hate everyone... No one is safe.

Melchiah: How are you not dead?

Umah: I don't share... Period.

Magnus: I'm not lazy... I just like beating people up without extra duties. (His answer as to why he doesn't strive to be a lord/king)

Sebastian: You'll never take me alive suckers!

Marcus: Good morning bitches destiny has arrived

Faustus: Beggars can't be choosers... I love everything that walks

Moebius: I know something you don't know...

Mortanius: I won't get mad just tell me what stupid moronic thing you did this time?

Hylden Lord: (Usually when insulted or annoyed) Well damn just shoot me why don't you?

[also-fours]

i think people, including myself, need to calm down about the ben reilly thing in ATSV

i know we're all upset because of the way he was treated, and the way he went out, and "why is miguel being treated with respect and accuracy while ben is the edgy 90s comics joke despite them both being from edgy 90s comics" (not to mention that peter was actually the edgy one during those days, it was ben who was more lighthearted and taught peter how to be himself again after becoming so jaded, but uh, we had miles help peter go through that arc in ITSV so i dunno what you expected and i dont know why you'd bring that up)

i get that, hell, before today i was on your side too

but i feel ATSV ben is harmless, and the only thing wrong with all of that was the timing

if you're a ben reilly fan, you know that for like, the past decade or so, feels like, he's been treated like utter garbage

we had that fakeout return in kaine's scarlet spider comic, the clone conspiracy fiasco, the peter david run that shouldve been amazing but editorial hates ben reilly, faking us out again by making ben spider-man again, then making him chasm, nick lowe saying ben has no place in spider-man, then the dumbass dark web "king chasm" thing

but lets be honest, we all know that the directors and writers of ATSV had no ill will towards this, and they didnt *mean* to upset us

they did the same thing with noir a few years back, we can assume they wanted to do the same thing with ben

the only reason noir didnt sting and this *does,* is because of the terrible hand that ben's been dealt

the guys behind spider-verse know their stuff, we know they do, but think: all of the stuff that happened to ben happened during the time they were working on *both* spider-verse films

and when you're pushing animation past its limits and reinventing the wheel, and trying to put your best foot forward in writing, directing, all that, you dont really have time to *know* what the hell is going on in recent comics

yes, spider-verse was inherently built on something recent, but to that i say, first time we heard about that miles animated film was like, 2014, 2015? and lets be honest, the original film pretty much has nothing to do with the original spider-verse comics

i'd say across the spider-verse, moreso, is an adaptation of it, and even then, it just takes the general premise of A BUNCH of spider-people and two teams of them going to war with each other

so lets all calm down, okay?

or not, you can stay mad, i see why, this WAS bad timing, but lets just relax, okay?

lets hope we see him again in beyond, and we most likely will, i dont think they're gonna keep him down like that

[soulbeastdragon]

All my Humans so far.

Fun lil tidbits for each below the cut

--

Dreck Henderson - male | he/him His full name is Hendrick "Dreck" Henderson. He's a descendant to one of the Seven Reapers, and does have Necromatic abilities, altho he doesn't use it knowingly. Dreck used to be a wealthy sea merchant who fell in love with his wifey Maelyne and had three sons. He left the sea life and became a chef, which was his passion. He became well-known for his excellent cooking and was inducted into royalty by the Thorn family, become their royal chef. Well, things would not go great as Mad King Thorn would request the most mind-boggling meals just to mess with this poor man. Unfortunately, Dreck and his wife would get caught up in the revolt and he'd be tied to cinder blocks and tossed into deep waters, where he died. Alas, he would not be able to rest for when the Mad King rose with the Mad Realm, Dreck too was brought along and he's been known as the Drowned Reaper (his alternate look is my Sylvari Saladbowld. Yeah, Dreck is Saladbowld lol)

Jhosung Seaja - trans | she/her Jho was one of Dreck's sons and transitioned after becoming a vampire. She draws her powers from the Mad Realm and she's Bria's girlfriend. She took up the name 'Jhosung' after killing her sire and taking all their assets, along with the name. In the present time, she's well known by specific Nobility and holds night parties along with black market auctions for said Nobles.

Rensai Rudous - male | he/him Rensai is a descendant of Dreck. He was part of Nobility, but he died at age 7 and was brought back to life by his great-great-great Aunt Jhosung. His mother made this request and after he was brought back to life, he had no memories and his mother disappeared. The estate he once lived on no longer belonged to him and he was taken in by the Wi family. He was close friends with Demmi and Valette. Rensai would grow up on the streets, however, and got into some trouble which landed him in the Seraph prisons. That's where he'd officially be introduced to Logan and, on Lady Wi's behalf, Rensai cooperated with Logan to track down the bandits and save the orphanage. Later, Rensai would be inducted into the Order of Whispers and then the Pact. He'll take up the Pact Commander mantle after Commander Roaj is killed by Balthazar during Path of Fire.

Neer the Sneak - agender | she/her; they/them Neer is supposed to be my artist avatar/muse, DragonchildReen. (note: need to update the screenshot as I took it while there was a weird texture bug on the Heart of Koda chest piece)

Setsa Gabbiani - female | she/her; they/them Setsa is very much based on Setzer Gabbiani from Final Fantasy VI. She's a skyfarer and her airship is *fanfare tune* a flying casino. I still want to develop her more in the future, but for now she's in Arborstone gambling it up.

Kain Haiuindo - male | he/him This is just my Kain Highwind (FFIV) clone. I made him when Vindicator spec came out and I was having a lot of fun with the long high jump, but then anet reworked the jump and made it shorter and that made me sad :( Now I just keep him at the end of the Draconis Mons JP

[nxthingtxwn]

//The new playlist. Long post incoming.

24K Magic by Bruno Mars

A Symphonic Metal Tribute to Steven Universe by The L-Train

A Symphonic Metal Tribute to Undertale by The L-Train

Accidentally In Love by Counting Crows

Addict by Silva Hound (ft. Michael Kovach & Chi-chi)

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked by Cage The Elephant

Alastor's Game by The Living Tombstone (ft. Black Gryph0n)

All Star by Smash Mouth

Alumina by Nightmare

Ambiguous by GARNiDELiA

Anarchy Rainbow from Splatoon 3

Angel With A Shotgun by The Cab

Another Date by DAGames

Arma-goddamn-motherfuckin-geddon by Marilyn Manson

Battle Against A True Hero by Toby Fox

Before My Body Is Dry from Kill la Kill

Betrayal by Lita Ford

Blame Canada from South Park: BIgger, Longer and Uncut

Blink Minigame from Spyro: A Hero's Tail

Bloody Mary by Lady Gaga

Blow the Roof by Flux Pavilion

Bokura wa Ima no Naka de by Mu's

Bowsette by The Chalkeaters (ft. M-G UniNew & Nekro G)

Brace for Chaos from Fortnite

Burning by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Bye Bye Bye by NSYNC

Calamari Inkantation from Splatoon

Children of the Grave by Black Sabbath

City Ruins; Soul from SoulCalibur VI

Colourful Canvas by Sumire Uesaka

Connect by ClariS

Crash Bandicoot Theme Trap Remix by MajorLeagueWobs

D City Rock from TeddyLoid (ft. Debra Zeer)

Dani California by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Death's Doorstep by Musiclide (ft. Tohru0chan)

Die In A Fire by The Living Tombstone (ft. ElieMonty)

Die Young by Kesha

Dirty Little Animals by Bones UK

Doctor Who on Holiday by Dean Gray

Doki Doki by Nikki Kaelar

Don't Call by Dabu (ft. Brigitte Naggar)

Dr. Neo Cortex (Epic Metal Remix) by Tolkuton

Dreams of Love and Literature by Dan Salvato

Easy Love by Sumire Uesaka

Enemy by Imagine Dragons (ft. JID)

Enemy (Opening Titles Version) by Imagine Dragons (ft. JID)

Eyes Closed by Imagine Dragons

Fabulous Secret Powers by SLACKCiRCUS

Fallen Angel by TeddyLoid (ft. Aimee B)

Fantastic by King Princess

Fire and Steel from Fortnite

Five Nights At Freddy's (Remastered) by The Living Tombstone

Fly Away by TeddyLoid

Fly Octo Fly ~ Ebb & Flow from Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion

Flying Spaghetti Monster by Doctor P

Fresh (Boyfriend Remix) by Kawai Sprite

Fuel by Metallica

Gerudo Valley from The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time

Get Jinxed by Djerv

Gun In My Hand by Dorothy

Guren no Yumiya by Linked Horizon

Heavy Is The Crown by Linkin Park

Heavy Is The Crown (Score Version) by Mike Shinoda & Emily Armstrong

Hell Isn't Good from South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut

Her Ghost In The Fog by Cradle of Filth

Here's to Never Growing Up by Avril Lavigne

Hide Away by Synapson (ft. Holly)

High (Orenji & TMG Future Funk Remix) by The Musical Ghost

High Stakes Club from Fortnite

Holding Out For A Hero by Bonnie Tyler

Holiday/So Frail by Scorpions/Mirrorthrone

Honeys In The Place by Aaron Wheeler

How You Like Me Now by The Heavy

How to Save Sayori's Life by maki ligon

Hungry for the Chase from Fortnite

Hyrule Circuit from Mario Kart 8

I Am the Doctor by Murray Gold

I Can't Fix You by The Living Tombstone (ft. Crusher-P)

I Can't Hear It Now by Freya Ridings

I'm A Believer by Smash Mouth

Icarus by Madeon

Idol (Splatoon AI Cover) by DanFourts

In the Pines by Janel Drewis

Industry Idol (English Slander Mix) by Triple-Q

Ink That by Jonny Atma

Insane by Black Gryph0n

Insane in the Brain by Cypress Hill

Iridescent by Linkin Park

It's Been So Long by The Living Tombstone

Jiyuu no Tsubasa by Linked Horizon

Join Us For A Bite Remix by The Living Tombstone

Jump Around by House of Pain

Jump! Jump! Jump! from DanceDanceRevolution: Mario Mix

Just the Two of Us are Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger Than You by scibot9000

Kaine/Salvation from NieR Replicant

Lavender Town (Remix) by Qumu

Light Up The Night by The Protomen

Live Again (Joyful Mix) by GGalactigal

Live and Learn by Crush 40

Love Crazy by Sumire Uesaka

MEGALOVANIA by Toby Fox

Mad Mew Mew Dance (Mashup/Remix) by SayMaxWell

Monster by Reckless Love

Montage from Team America: World Police

My Sadistic Adolescence by Sumire Uesaka

Nasty Majesty from Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion

New Divide by Linkin Park

No Sleep Till Brooklyn by Beastie Boys

Nothingtown by The Offspring

oath sign by LiSa

Ocean Man by Ween

One-Winged Angel from Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children

Other Friends (Electro Swing Cover) by Chi-chi

Our Love by Curtis Harding (ft. Jazmine Sullivan)

POWER by Kanye West

Painkiller by Judas Priest

Paint the Town Blue by Ashnikko

Party Up (Up In Here) by DMX

Pepper by Butthole Surfers

Perfect Weapon by Black Veil Brides

Playground by Bea Miller

Poker Face by Eric Cartman

Pokemon Theme (Metal Cover) by Jonathan Young (ft. Jason Paige)

Power of the Triforce by Dragonforce

Pretty Heroes by Dabu (ft. Brigitte Naggar)

Push (Feeling Good On A Wednesday) by Sia

Reality Check Through the Skull by DM DOKURO

Red Swan by Yoshiki (ft. Hyde)

Remains of the Day by Danny Elfman

Reunion by Dabu (ft. Brigitte Naggar)

Rooftop Rampage by Spiralmouth

Satin Panties by Kawai Sprite

Say It Proud from Fortnite

Say Something by A Great Wide World

Sayo-nara Sunburn by maki ligon

Scanty and Kneesocks' Absolute Territory by Triple-Q

Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes

Shinzou wo Sasageyo by Linked Horizon

Short Change Hero by The Heavy

Shoukei to Shikabane no Michi by Linked Horizon

Shut 'Em Up by The Prodigy vs Public Enemy

Sirius by Eir Aoi

Smile Like You Mean It by PARANOID DJ

Snow (Hey Oh) by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Snow Halation by Mu's

Song of Storms Remix by The Living Tombstone

Song of the Ancients (Devola) from NieR Replicant

Spear of Justice by Toby Fox

Spice Up Your Life by Spice Girls

Spider Dance by Toby Fox

Spies! (Murda Beatz Remix) from Fortnite

Splattack! (Octo) from Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion

Spongebob & Patrick Confront the Psychic Wall of Energy by The Flaming Lips

Spyro Circuit from Crash Team Racing: Nitro-Fueled

Start: Dash!! by Mu's

Stay by The Kid LAROI (ft. Justin Bieber)

Stressed Sayo-nara by maki ligon

Sucker by Marcus King

Super Mario Bros. Theme (Rock Arrangement) by Davis Henry

Superbeast by Rob Zombie

Supermassive Black Hole by Muse

Sweet Victory by David Glen Eisley

Tainted Love by Soft Cell

Take On Me by A-ha

Take Us Back by Alela Diane

Talking In Your Sleep by The Romantics

Thank You and Goodnight by The Hazbin Hotel Pilot VAs

The Amazing Digital Circus Theme by Gooseworx

The Best Day Ever by Spongebob Squarepants

The Girl At The Video Game Store by Parry Gripp

The Hunting Ground from Fortnite

The MISSING from The MISSING: J.J. Macfield and the Island of Memories

The Metal by Tenacious D

The Rockafeller Skank by Fatboy Slim

The Rumbling by SiM

The Touch by Stan Bush

The Wolf Among Us Theme from The Wolf Among Us

The World by Nightmare

This Comes From Inside by The Living Tombstone

This Is How We Do It by Montell Jordan

This Is War (Radio Edit) by 30 Seconds to Mars

Thunderstruck by AC/DC

Til All Are One by Stan Bush

Toxic by Britney Spears

Unbroken by Man On The Internet

Vital from Fortnite

Warriors by Imagine Dragons

Wasteland by Royal & the Serpent

Weight of the World (English Version) from NieR Automata

Welcome To Your Nightmares by Teamheadkick

What Could Have Been by Sting

What I've Done by Linkin Park

What's Up, People!? by Maximum the Hormone

Wherever I May Roam by Metallica

You Better Swim by Motorhead

You're the Best by Joe Esposito

Your New Home by Gooseworx

Your Reality by Dan Salvato (ft. Jillian Ashcraft)

Zavodila but only Ruv by Mike Geno

Zetsubou Billy by Maximum the Hormone

[shiroi---kumo]

.·:¨༺ ✩★✩ ༻¨:·. He's gone before she can say another word and the anger on his face is clearly what is out powering the pain rocketing up the his left leg. Every step feels like fire but he doesn't care because the only thing he can think to do is get away from that woman before he conducts himself in any way that would further be so unbecoming. He's had it far past his limits when dealing with how the people in this place treat the literal King of his people, let alone the boy he raised.

They all are beyond excuse at this point so it's all he can do to drop himself down in a seat in the dining hall when he sees a fluffy head of white setting in that very room.

"Opettaja?" The younger asks as he pauses in his endeavor with the tiny creatures in the bowl that Pilvi seems to love so much only to change the focus on jade eyes directly to him. (teacher)

"Are you alright? You look angry and you were limping. Should you even be out of bed? If you're hungry I can get you something."

"Why do you allow them all to treat you like this?"

"What?"

"That woman and the rest of them. The humans. They treat you so poorly, never use your name, they translate your name and - and none of them ever refer to you by title like they should be."

"Are you really that upset about it? They translate my name because I told them to and they don't use my title because I never gave it to them."

"Why though?"

"Because I didn't want them to treat me any differently. I didn't want them to think I was higher than them or better than them in any way. Human Kings don't bow apparently and apparently they don't even consider Kings and Knights real anymore. They call them a thing of fairy tales and children's stories."

"What?"

"I know it was hard for me to wrap my head around too but that's how it is in their culture, so if I just told them I'm a King and expected them to treat me like one, they would get all uncomfortable around me and be scared of me and I didn't want that. I just wanted them to treat me like everyone else, so I didn't tell them."

"...I see." He pauses as he rolls this information around in his brain for a moment. "I might have made a mistake."

He watches as white brows raise and thin lips fall into a half frown while the prince sounds again.

"What kind of mistake? Which woman?"

"The human with injuries in orange and darkly colored hair. She said her name was -"

"Lisa? You're mad at Lisa?"

"She was so rude, Highness. She made it sound like you were friends and then you are not and she translated your name and called you that other name and she called you a boy. "

"You call me a boy."

"Joo, I do but you're my boy. I raised you. I have those rights."

"You don't get mad when Sielu or Aamunkoitto or Revon -"

"Pilvi you are quite literally our son by soul, we get to call you a boy and baby you. You're an adult, yes, we all acknowledge this but you are our baby. We raised you, so we get those rights by default."

"What about Setä then?" (uncle (sinfonia))

"You really think I'm going to tell him he can't baby you. He is literally your blood. He can do whatever he wants."

"So then you're only mad when people who aren't Misterican do it? Black Wind translates my name."

"I - did you tell him to?"

"Ei, and he speaks our tongue, but he does it any way." (no)

"But you just translated his."

"I know. He doesn't mind, and I don't mind being called White Cloud. It doesn't make me angry and quite frankly I don't want anyone around here to call Valkoinen Pilvi anyway. Kain knows my name and that's all that matters to me. As for 'Kumo' it means Cloud in a language from Earth called Japanese. Two of my friends, a pair of twin children gave it to me. That's where 'Kaze' comes from. It means Wind in their tongue. It's better than being called Makenshi."

"Who calls you Makenshi?"

"The whole of Wonderland thanks to His Excellency and if I had to pick between Makenshi or Kumo, I would very much prefer to be called Kumo."

"So it doesn't bother you then?"

"Ei, it doesn't." (no)

"And you don't want them to address you by title."

"Correct. No titles. I don't need them to think they need to suddenly be formal around me because they think I'm better than them or some other crazy reason."

"And you are not friends with that Lisa woman?"

"We're sort of friends. It's complicated. I was stuck under His Excellency's thumb at the time I met her and we were sort-of enemies for a while. Not by my choice though. When I pulled away from His Excellency and betrayed them to bring Lisa and the Comodeen information they needed, and to protect them, she was one of the first ones to trust me. Everyone here used to exclusively call me Makenshi, but when Cid found out I preferred Kumo and what Makenshi means he corrected everyone as quickly as possible."

"The doctor - Cid - he corrected them for you?"

The prince is nodding in confirmation as he smiles.

"He did, and Miss Lisa hasn't seen me in some time. The last we saw each other wasn't on the best standings thanks to Black Wind but she was one of the first to change how she referred to me. I would like to be friends with her but we've never been in a position to talk much. I got ... injured.... quite severely a few times and both were in her presence. She's seen me come back from the dead, Valo, so it's understandable if she's still a bit rattled and trying to wrap her mind around me.

She's seen me do some very extortionary things in comparison to a human. She's flawed like the rest of us and very obviously gone through plenty of her own trauma since the last I saw her. She didn't have so many scars compared to the last time. You didn't yell at her, did you?"

His shoulders are dropping along with his head the more his liege explains and it seems there's so much that's happened that he doesn't know from the last time he saw this boy. The last time he got to hold him in his arms. Pilvi is his boy and he always will be but he's also a man now even if his face hasn't aged a day.

"You did, didn't you?"

There's a small nod as they both sigh.

"Do you want me to explain for you, or will you do it?"

"I can do it."

"You know you owe her an apology."

"I do."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"I would like that, honestly. My leg is ... sore."

"You walked on it, I'm not surprised. I'll go with you. Don't worry, I'm sure she'll understand."

"Kiitos minun Pilveni." (thank you my Pilvi)

Lisa frowns as he begins to speak, opening her mouth to speak when she thought he had finished, but quickly just keeping her mouth shut and remaining silent as he continues. She hadn't meant to make excuses, or to apologize as a way to get out of the situation...

"I wasn't trying to do anything, I-" she began to try and explain, hell even apologize again, but she had a feeling it wasn't going to matter. She sighed after she spoke, and just shook her head, deciding it was best to just drop it. She wasn't quite sure what she could say right now that would be the right thing, so she just stopped while she still could...

She gathered the books she had gotten down for him, putting them all back where she found them. She wasn't really sure where she was going wrong. Even apologizing just came across as excuses, and now she had what Valo said to think about...

'Then he doesn't want you to know...'

It wasn't exactly surprising... She hadn't really had time to get to know him before, of course he wouldn't trust her with much. But now it just felt like she had deliberately done something to be deemed untrustworthy, and it definitely seemed her return was going a bit poorly in comparison to what she imagined...

She wasn't even certain how she imagined it going. She had been so focused on getting there and surviving Wonderland that everything else took a backseat... And now she was somewhat kicking herself for not anticipating more changes.

She shook her head again, like she was trying to just get herself together, and she went back to looking for the same thing she had before she and Valo began talking...

[ans-incorrect-quotes]

Haruto: Kain, stop! You’re not acting yourself! You’re mad with power!

Kain: Well, of course I have!

Kain: Have you tried being mad without power?

Kain: It’s boring.

[sabraeal]

The Sword Between, Chapter 4

[Read on AO3]

Once, when Haki was but a small girl, hardly able to braid her own plaits, Father woke her in the dead of night. Frost clung thickly on her windowpanes, leaving the world a mystery of midnight; a magical hour, one where winged vettes could sweep down from the skies or trolls could peek out from the rafters. Those were the kinds of things that happened to princesses, after all, and here she was, living in a castle that once belonged to a king.

Come with me. His hand beckoned, promising mischief, even while his mouth threatened a lecture. Confused, she traipsed after him on slippered feet, shrugging her furred cloak around her shoulders.

They went up, up, up to the highest parapets, to where only the stray night guard patrolled. Wirant sprawled beneath them, the walls snaking along its edges, leading out to the glistening university at the horizon. Their lands now, with no lord above them. Duke, the letter said that morning, Warden of the North. Father had not looked a pleased as a man should, given such a promotion.

Over there. Father pointed out to the shadows in the distance, the round stone towers that squatted along the roads. Those outposts. In the olden days, when the lords still warred with one another, it would be to those our guard looked. Should any army encroach upon us, they would light bonfires, warning their liege of danger.

She squinted into the distance, blinking away the snow that settled thick on her lashes. Even at this distance, lights flickered through the arrow slits, winking in the dark. A bonfire, set on their roofs-- that would light up the sky, clear as any candle

And when those fires called their lords to the battlefield, Father pressed, wind whipping at his words, it was their women who protected these halls.

Haki pictured it, campfires burning like stars on the snowfields. A hundred-- no, a hundred thousand men waiting to besiege their walls, rattling their spears as the drums of war sounded across the dark. And the lady of this castle watching it all through the sleepless night, knowing that come dawn, there would be no relief to see them through. Only her men and the steel of her spine.

Haki. Father did not turn to look at her, merely stared out toward the vanished horizon, lost in the dark. Out toward Lilias, and beyond it-- The king has asked for your hand. He would like you to marry his eldest, the prince Izana.

Her hand curled around the crenelation, stone cold against her palm. Father did not speak into the silence, but she could hear what he didn’t say all the louder: some women are called to defend their house with blade and hand, and others--

Others protected it another way.

Tell him, she said, her small voice bursting into clouds before her, that it would be an honor.

Haki may ask, “Where is he?” but she is already in motion, skirts swinging around her legs as she pivots, no longer headed towards her chambers, but away.

A guest as esteemed as His Highness should be greeted in the yard, with Father and Makiri waiting at the top of the steps to receive him. He’d be given time to wash off the dust from the road, for his entourage to order themselves before being brought in for formal introductions. That is the way it would be done in the South, complete with berries and champagne and probably a dozen women to sweeten the deal.

Should, should, should. The question is: what does Father mean to do?

Ami falls in three racing steps behind her, huffing hard from even so little exertion. Perhaps she has been letting off her maid too easy, like Makiri says. “The hall.”

Ah, so Father would be sparing the prince no favors. No friendly greeting for the prized son of his liege, oh no; His Highness would be brought in left-footed, forced to make obeisances like any earl’s son might. No time to clean up, no time to rest, not time to prepare.

Her mouth curls, a cruel humor creeping across mouth. This prince may be half a god in the South, but he would learn just where an up-jumped second son stood in the North.

“My lady!” Ami lags behind her, panting now, but there’s no time to wait for her. “Should you not--?”

“Are you going dressed like that?”

The effect is, embarrassingly, immediate. Her heels dig in, body lurching to a halt; her wasted motion turns her, her glare steeped with such derision that a lesser man would shatter to pieces. At least, it should. That’s how it always works for Father.

Lowen simply smirks, his face a mockery of innocence. Curse him, for it is impossible to tell whether her presence needs improving, or whether he is naturally impervious. Either way, he delights in the way she storms to him, not even flinching when she puts herself bare inches away, close enough that a well-timed breath might cause them to touch.

It is, perhaps, a poor position to take on this battlefield, since touch they do, her chest brushing the bottom of his ribs. Her face floods with heat, but still she forges on, demanding, “What do you mean by that, sir?”

“Nothing, my lady.” His smirk slants to a yet slyer angle. “It is only, if you mean to receive the prince...”

Her brow arches, imperious as any queen. She knows; she’s practiced many a time in her mirror. “It there something wrong with how I am dressed? Is it not fine enough for His Highness?”

Certainly not for a formal introduction in Wistal’s court, but that was the point. This prince must learn what little currency his title bought him here. It would make him desperate, lead him to make foolish mistakes--

“Not if you mean to make him love you.”

Haki blinks. “Excuse me?”

“That is what your father wants, isn’t it? A happy--” his gaze rakes up her from slipper to collar, his hooded eyes no barrier to its heat--“husband?”

Her breath catches, knotting tight in her chest. There’s no reasoning when he’s so close, when his warmth mingles with hers in the bare space between their bodies. When the place his thumb traced burns like a brand on her skin still. 

A better hostage than a husband. Even with His Highness’s early arrival, Father’s plan would not have changed. Eager she might be to mark her protest to the king’s plan, a shrewdness demands a more metered response. It was a poor player who tipped his hand early, and a dead one that did it with rebellion on the line.

“Ami.” She tears herself away, palms bunched in the thick fabric of her skirts. “Did Father say he would be in the hall, or to meet him in the hall?”

Ami’s gaze darts nervously, first dancing over her face, then back to where Lowen lingers. Her mouth pinches, as tight as her hands clasp in front of her. “He would meet you in the hall. His lordship means to receive His Highness now, in the company of your brother, and they will meet again for the formal reception once the prince and his party have had time to freshen themselves.”

Ah, Father must not see Prince Zen as a threat, but as a boy to be wooed. A second son to be impressed by a first one’s welcome.

And Lowen had seen it, far better than she.

“Well.” Haki smooths her skirts, composing herself. “That does give us time, then. Come, I must make myself an eager princess.”

Ami hurries after her with no need of further encouragement, but Lowen-- Lowen lingers. His mouth smooths to a smirk when she turns to him, brow arched with a temple’s worth of irreverence. “Me as well, my lady?”

She tilts her chin, smile curling with mischief. “You especially, sir.”

There is little fanfare when Haki enters her rooms, but when she makes to lead them through the parlor to her bedchamber, Ami stops Lowen at the door.

“You may stay out here, sir,” she says, hand pressed firmly into his chest. “Where her ladyship entertains.”

Lowen blinks, at a loss. “Ami...?”

To Haki’s confusion, her maid flushes, the tips of her ears an angry red. “Now, sir, don’t make this any harder than it is. You and I know that the seats out here are just as fine.”

His brow furrows. “I don’t see why--?”

“Ami?” Haki wraps a hand around the girl’s arm, forcing her to lower it. “What are you on about.”

“Begging your pardon, my lady. I know he’s supposed to keep his eyes on you, but...” She draws herself up, favoring Lowen with as severe a look as her quarter century can conjure. “I think it’s best that Sir Lowen keep himself where there’s no...surfaces.”

“Surfaces?” There’s a table right by the sofa, a bouquet fresh from Lilias sitting on it, unmistakable. “But there’s--”

It’s unbecoming for a lady to blush, but Haki finds herself hard-pressed to be elsewise when Ami fixed her with that meaningful glance. Only last night she had sent her maid away, telling her that Lowen would help her to bed, and-- how foolish she must have seemed, saying such a thing. Then to be caught in the hall with him so close, to have so clearly abandoned reason-- a confidante  her maid may well be, but Ami’s pay comes from Father’s pockets, not her own. Last night, she was a foolish girl betrothed to a prodigal prince, and this morning...this morning Father needs her to be above reproach.

A hard thing to be, when even now the memory of his touch lingers on her arm, and the heat of his gaze presses upon her back.

But not for long. With a neat pivot, Lowen surveys the parlor. Or at least, makes a good show of it, running his long fingers over seams and studs as if he has not had the last two years to memorize every inch of them. His interest would even read as natural, a whim of the moment rather than a reaction to it, were it not for the pink dusting at the tips of his ears, or the convenient way it put his back to them.

“Well.” He coaxes a burr clear of his throat, bringing it back to his usual register. “I suppose I could sit. And wait.”

It would be easy to undercut Ami; she is not the lady here, nor even enough authority to act as chaperone. In the south, she would be little more than decoration, one of a hundred replaceable faces. One word from Haki and all her concern could be swept away like ash on the hearth.

But, fortunately or not, Wirant is not Wistal. And even if it were, Haki knows better than to spurn loyalty where she finds it. No matter how much she wishes Ami could have waited at least a few minutes more to announce herself in that hall.

“An excellent idea, Sir Lowen,” she manages, pitching her voice to be fuller, more mature. It comes off somewhere closer to officious. “I think, perhaps, I shall join you.”

“My lady...” Ami’s frown furrows in warning. “Are you sure that’s...?”

Wise. Haki can practically hear the word echoing in the air. “Lowen and I have much to discuss. That is, if he does not mind being pressed.”

Both his brows lift, though not far. Surprise, but not shock. A measured response, a controlled one.

She hates it already. Lords above, save her from this man being restrained. “I think you know full well that I could not deny my lady anything.”

Besides a dance, of course. But that’s hardly a conversation she wishes to retread with an audience. Especially one as interested as Ami would make.

“But I must admit,” he continues, entirely too cordial for her liking, “that I do not see what help I could be to you.”

“Why, sir,” she does not purr, running her fingers along the spine of her sofa. “You are our expert on what our young prince likes.”

Haki is no stranger to knights; Wirant has its own circle, one her brother joined only a few years past. One he will doubtlessly run, once society-- and, she must begrudgingly admit, his skill-- drags him up the ranks. She is no stranger to the restless energy pent up behind their livery, the polite words that merely gild their rougher opinions.

So when Lowen’s ease hardens, when his idleness turns to vigilance, she knows: he is bracing for a hit. No, for a fight; one he does not expect to limp from without a wound. “I beg your pardon?”

He has not been so formal with her since those first, disastrous weeks. The ones where she’d been so desperate to drive him away, and he’d clung to her nape like a mother cat does her kitten.

There is little she would like less than to go back to those days. “You have met him, have you not? While you were working in Wistal with your mysterious lord.”

“Lords,” he replies stiffly, stressing the plural. “A few times. He was but a child then, hardly out of the nursery. Not someone who looked at...women.”

“It is a fair sight more than anyone else in Wirant,” she informs him with equal warmth. “It will take an age if Ami must pull out every gown in my wardrobe, and we have very time to waste. Perhaps if His Highness had not been taken with the whim to race the post...” She shrugs, elegant. At least, so she hopes. “Surely you must have some idea about what a boy like that might want in a wife?”

He grits out woodenly, “I could not possibly venture a guess, my lady.”

Were her blood any less blue, Haki would let her eyes roll, but as it is, she merely sighs, shaking her head. “If this were the first prince, it would be far easier.”

Some life leaks into her knight’s expression, an eyebrow edging flirting with a bid toward his hairline. “Would it, now?”

“Of course.” A forelock tickles her collarbone; with a single hand she straightens it, sending some wayward strands over her shoulder. “A profligate dandy such as that might make noise about wanting a demure woman for a wife, but he does not take those to bed. Tempting him would require something bold, a dress to draw the eye. Something that might inspire a fire in him.”

Lowen’s mouth twitches, though she cannot tell in which direction he means it to trend. “Is that a fact?”

“So you see my trouble,” she continues, ignoring him. The last thing she needs are his pithy comments about her attempts at seduction. “If he is like his brother, I will go bolder, but if not--”

“He is nothing like his brother.”

Haki blinks, as wide-eyed as the man that sits across from her. “Is that so?”

“It...is.” Lowen speaks as if the words ails him, as if both of them might as well be cut from his own flesh. With a harsh breath, he is calm again, his tone as still and as smooth as a pond iced over, “I heard it remarked upon often in the castle. He learned all his politics from knight’s tales and fairy stories, and that foolishness breeds true in the way he approaches the court.“

“But you said he was a child, surely--”

“Idealism takes root root early, and is a...challenge to weed out.” His lips flirt with a grimace before settling into their customary line. “He believes in goodness the way some men believe in gods. Were we in a story book, he would be the perfect prince, but in reality, he is only--”

Lowen’s teeth snap shut. “I mean to say,” he begins again, the heat gone from him, “that he puts a great deal in appearances. First meetings. Fate.”

Fate. He says the word with such venom, as if he would find the women himself and tear their weaving asunder. As if he would break their loom in both hands were he given half the chance. It is easy to forget with all his pretty speeches, that Lowen is first a mercenary, a man of fortune; the sort, Father had said, too many times to count, who has been burned by luck and lived to tell the tale.

Oh, how she wish he would tell it to her as well. But by the distant look in his eyes, she doubts there’s a man living who has.

“So I must be a vision,” she concludes, clearing her throat. No need to let him know that she squints to read between his lines. “A perfect princess, ready-made for his pleasure.”

“Perhaps the rose taffeta, my lady?” Ami prompts, hovering at the door. “Or the white organza?”

Both are a little fussy for her tastes, but then, there are few princesses who are not. “Yes, fetch those first. And perhaps the yellow silk?”

“As you say, my lady.” Still, Ami hesitates at the threshold, hovering as if she has yet more to suggest. Haki nearly asks-- there is no one alive who knows the contents of her wardrobe quite as well as her-- but then her dark eyes dart to where Lowen sits, far too pointed.

“And keep the door open,” she concedes, generously. “There may be more requests forthcoming should Lowen--”

Lowen makes a noise Haki can only call undignified.

She turns to him with one brow arches, censure in every inch. “Is there something amusing, sir?”

“It’s nothing,” he assures her with a smile that is anything but. “I was only thinking that the prince was known for being more...simple in his tastes. Humble, even.”

“Humble?” she murmurs like a thunderstorm. “Are you making a joke of this, Sir Lowen? Does this all amuse you?”

“I promise you,” he says, smirk ceding to serious. “There is nothing that amuses me less. I only mean to say that he is hardly impressed by royal trappings.”

Heat simmers beneath her skin. Already the king has made a mockery of her, passing her from one son to another; the last thing she needs is for Lowen to make her into a laughingstock, a plate for all the peerage to titter at over the front page. “And so I must arrive to the meeting looking like I am some girl he met in the woods? A secret princess he must kiss to relevance?”

Lowen does not flush, never in anger, but she sees the steady ease in his shoulders and knows it is practiced, not natural. “I said only that simplicity would impress him more than decoration.”

“Should I greet him in tweed?” she asks, every word a barb. “Perhaps a plaid one, so that he feels as if he is truly in the country--”

His mouth curls, half a sneer. “It would certainly be better than looking like a confection--”

“Men eat confections!”

Her words echo back to her ears, too loud, too heated. Again, she’s let him rile her, the way he did in those early days. The way that drove her to distraction again and again, until--

Haki settles back on her cushion, spreading her skirts to lay flat. It’s silly to act this way now, two years on and nearly a woman grown, knowing that all she’s arguing for is his attention. She certainly won’t impress him flushed and fussed as she is.

“If you have some suggestion,” she begins again, measured. “Then I would be happy to--”

“The blue.”

Her eyes flutter, confused, but there he sits, shoulders carefully relaxed, gaze fixed upon the flowers between them. “I beg your--?”

“The blue silk,” he repeats with precision. “With the lace fall at the collar. I think--” his tongue snakes out wetting his lips-- “I think he would like that most.”

“I...” Her jaw closes, so carefully. It had been a favored dress of hers, years ago. She’d been wearing it the night father told her of her new guard, the young knight would would be her shadow at the soiree, and he-- she--

“It’s not quite Wisteria blue,” she murmurs, “but it is very...youthful.”

“It brings out your eyes.” Lowen hums, shifting in his seat, and oh, how she wonders if he meant to say so much. “It would be easy for a man to fall in love with a lady in a dress such as that.”

Did you? she doesn’t ask, though her lips itch with it. It’s impossible; she’d been terrible then, losing him around every corner and cursing when he appeared at her side, not at all the young lady her father had told him of. But still, still, the look in his eyes--

“Fine,” she says, too breathless. “The blue it is.”

[starogeorgina]

AO3 First Lines

Rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published ao3 stories (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics)

Thank you for the tags lovely ladies 💕

1 Madness Jacaerys Targaryen x reader

“His heart beats for blood. Blood and fire.”

2 The beauty of sin Cregan Stark x reader, Aemond Targaryen x reader

Your eyes glistened with tears as they dribbled down your cheeks. You swallow back the bile rising and rub at your temples with your free hand, bringing yourself back to reality. You could only stare up at the empty sky for so long while imagining what it would be like to be an actual dragon, free to go wherever you want.

3 Violent delights Jacaerys Velaryon x oc

Tears of joy stream down your cheeks as you hold your daughter for the first time. Her small lungs filling with air as she cries, you kiss the tip of her small nose. The midwives do their best to discreetly wrap your baby, who was born stillborn moments before his sister, from your view. Your first two pregnancies didn’t make it to term, but both were assumed to be boys. Your first baby was named Vaegon, the second Aerion. You had already decided on several names to choose from that would work for either sex.

4 Ghosts in the sky Aegon ii Targaryen x reader

“Rhaenyra!” You continue to rapidly bang your fist against the door leading into your elder sister's bedroom. “Rhaenyra, open this door right now!”

5 The blood between us Criston Cole x reader

The great hall was alive with the sound of fast-paced music, played by the kingdom's finest musicians. Torches flickered along the walls, casting dancing shadows across the ornate tapestries that adorned them.

6 Harrenhal is cursed Alys Rivers x reader, Daemyra x reader

You had yet to decide if being forced to travel to Harrenhal alone in the name of your brother and king, Aegon, to persuade the river lords to fight for him was the best or worst thing to happen to you during the war. You arrived days before Daemon did, but you had barely spoken to anyone; you had been far too trapped in your own mind to rally an army.

7 Fragile line Alys Rivers x reader x Aemond Targaryen

“Do you believe in what I tell you, princess?”

8 Heart of glass Helaena Targaryen x oc

While princess Helaena lived a solitary life within the walls of the keep, only going out of her way to spend time with her infant twins, it was known that she became fond and more than fond of her cousin, Lady Vissera, the only daughter of Lady Rhea Royce and prince Daemon Targaryen.

9 Sweet Viper Oberyn Martell x oc

You stand before the iron throne teary-eyed; this was the goodbye you had been dreading for over a year. It was time for you to leave your home and travel to Dorne to meet your betrothed, Prince Oberyn Martell, the red viper.

10 The eye of the dragon Jacaerys Velaryon x oc

The chill of the night's air nips at your skin as you watch Kain, your beautiful dragon. Kain was the second-largest dragon in the world; the only one larger than him was your brother's dragon, Vhagar. Despite his body being covered with green and scattered bronzed scales that practically glowed in the sunlight, he disappeared like a shadow into the night's sky. With only moonlight and the illumination from the small fire you'd built, you were able to observe the calmness of the darkness without disturbance.

Tagging @justinalovee @no-damsel @starsandbutterfliesss @alyssaforevermore @bucknastysbabe

AO3 First Lines

I was tagged by @glitterisblue :3

Rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published ao3 stories (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics).

100 Different Kisses: Chapter 93 || 1,482 || T || Top Gun: Maverick || Hangster

Bradley is not a man who often faces choices he cannot either fuck or fight his way out of. But he supposes that was only true before Jake Seresin tripped his way into his life.

Learning to Speak Your Language || 2,615 || G || Top Gun: Maverick || Fanback

When Mickey had made the suggestion of finally moving into a place together, Reuben should have known putting him at the helm of planning would have them ending up here- the middle of June, a hot summer sun beating down on their backs as they go from the moving truck to the house. 

Dance the Night Away || 7,125 || M || 9-1-1 || Buddie

There are different ways to sweat. Different kinds.

Not Never || 1,879 || T || Top Gun: Maverick || Floydsin

Bob doesn't walk into the classroom at NAS Miramar as much as he shuffles in, head down, sleep clinging to the corners of his eyes, a couple of wayward strands of hair out of place; the gel he'd all but slapped onto the half-dried locks holding it down in a way that'll last (hopefully) just long enough for the morning briefing to be over.

Bar Top Woes || 2,677 || G || Top Gun: Maverick || Hangman & Maverick

Retirement, Maverick considers with a smile just shy of rueful, is boring.

Skirting Around Your Levels || 5,111 || E || Top Gun: Maverick || Icemav

"I look ridiculous," Ice calls out, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he stands in his and Maverick's bathroom, staring himself down in the mirror and trying not to blanch for a fourth time, shame crawling up his spine.

Gonna Make Your Home My Bed and Heart || 6,163 || E || Top Gun: Maverick || Hangster

Jake's stomach hurts, his eyes are watering, and there's an ache in his jaw as he holds a hand over his mouth, trying his hardest to stifle the donkey-like laughter spilling out of him.

I'll Be Home for Christmas (And I'll be Making it Your Problem) || 26,496 || T || Top Gun: Maverick || Hangster

Jake, arms laden with two canvas shopping bags and frowning so deep a few people have thrown themselves out of his way, stomps the entirely three flights of stairs to his and Javy's apartment, throwing open the door with little regard for how it slams behind him and threats to punch a hole in the wall. 

Find Out How I'm Imaginin' You (Part 4 of the imagine being loved by me series) || 14,368 || E || Top Gun: Maverick || Hangster

Jake spends two weeks post-waking up in bed with Bradley and having his entire reality thrown into his face, thinking about what he's going to do.

Top Cut || 5,456 || T || Top Gun: Maverick || Hangster

Jake is dreading getting out of his car. Eventually, he has to. He's got an appointment after all, but God, he'd rather do anything else.

~

Gonna tag some of my favorite authors! : @anadorablack @yikes-00 @extasiswings @perishablealex @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @hmslusitania and @cristinuke :3

[estinininininen]

*takes deep breath* first fanfiction posted online in nearly twenty years. Final Fantasy IV, i dunno how many words, probably around 2000? unbeta'd. just after the sealed cavern debacle. Cursing and referenced violence. Edge POV, but it's actually about Cecil, Kain, and Rydia:

-

Kain's betrayal has split them into pairs: Cecil and Rosa, and Edge and Rydia. They each stare at the others as if they have gone mad.

"He's not usually mean, or, or, or cruel like this! You've known him for long enough to see that!" Rosa says.

"I don't know him at all," Edge says. "Bastard always hid his eyes and never talked to us!"

"He was struggling against the spell," Cecil says. "He didn't mean to do this. I'm sure of it."

This pauses the argument, because Cecil is the only one sitting hunched over, resting to recover from blood loss. Edge stares down at him. He feels his face twisting with many emotions that will be obvious even behind the veil. Pity, anger, disbelief.

Quiet until now, Rydia pipes up. "He's not like you, Cecil. He's not good deep down."

Rosa turns away and does not try to hide or stop her tears. Cecil huffs at Rydia, for a moment almost like an indulgent parent unable to scold a child, instead of the focused holy warrior Edge has grown to rely on. Considering what little he knows of Cecil and Rydia, the thought of him patronizing her, on behalf of this Kain guy, for a moment it makes Edge want to - want to smack Cecil, or bundle Rydia in his cloak and take her away. Snatch that holy headband right of his pretty face and huck it in the lava.

There is some great sin hovering over him and Rydia, and also Kain, Edge knows. None have answered when Edge questioned what it is, what Cecil did to her, how Kain fit into it. Rosa deferred to them. Each said what amounted to, That's for the others to share when they're ready, and even if Edge weren't a ninja he'd know that was a desperate trick to hide from the problem. It was only a step removed from "Ask your mother," and then being told "Ask your father."

Edge had wanted to ask the Eidolons. He was going to, but then he saw how Queen Asura and King Leviathan looked down at the two Baron men, bowed low and motionless before them, far longer than necessary. He decided not to, and told himself it was for diplomatic reasons, not wanting to test the new connections between Eblan, Baron and the Summons. It was not because he was scared reopening that wound would get him or the two fools blown to bits. Not at all.

Into the puckered silence, Rydia says, "Well, he's not. Kain's not a good person. I haven't forgotten what he . . . what he said to you at Mist."

Cecil's head snaps up. "What?"

"He threatened you," Rydia said, whispering. Her eyes are looking at Cecil and also at some distant memory. "He threatened you, he told you to kill me, and it was before he was under Golbez' thrall."

Rosa turns back to them, jaw dropping. Edge is certain he's done the same, but he's a terrible politician and can't hold his face so he's not sure.

"I was seven," Rydia says. "I was a child, and you were the one who did the right thing, and Kain wasn't going to so, so I don't, I don't want to hurt you or Rosa but he is not a good person-"

"Rydia!" Cecil says. "Rydia, no, that's not right-"

"I had ears, Cecil," Rydia says. "I was seven but I could hear you." She curls her fists at her side. Rydia is not actually quick to anger, Edge realizes. All the bantering and frustration she has with the prince of Eblan is nothing compared to how furious she is now. She is just as quiet when ready to kill.

But Cecil is still going on. "That's not what happened. No. No!" He shakes his head. "He was threatening me," he says.

Total silence falls.

"He was threatening me," Cecil says, and hangs his head.

"What?" Rydia says.

"What?" Rosa says.

Cecil looks up, open his mouth, then checks himself, slaps his hand on the ground, and looks back down.

"Will someone please explain to me what the hell happened at Mist?" Edge says.

Rydia's brow furrows into little lines that even in the strange moment Edge can't help but find cute. He is not prepared for what Rydia says next. "Kain and Cecil killed my mum's Eidolon, which killed her," she says.

Edge looks toward Rosa, who does not seem surprised.

Cecil sighs. "We were ordered by Cagnazzo, pretending to be King Odin, to open the way to Mist and deliver a package. He ordered us not to open it until we arrived and presented it to the town leaders for all to see. It was a bomb ring, and Golbez must have been watching us for the moment to set it off."

Cecil is good at compartmentalizing and military summaries, but Edge see this is hard for him. He rocks backwards and looks up at the stone ceiling of the cave entrance. "The first blast ignited almost the whole town, and then living bomb monsters came out of the ring and began hunting down the survivors. Kain and I were safe in a small circle near the ring, but smoke was going to kill us if we stayed or tried to help anybody. So we ran."

Edge looks towards Rosa again. It is still knowledge she has heard before. Rydia's face is like glass, still and smooth but ready to shatter at a moment.

Cecil continues. "On the edge of the village we heard a girl crying next to a dead body. Bombs were still flying behind us, and people who left the town were chased down. I think the only reason Kain and I lived still was because of the ring protecting us from its effects - but I don't know. I will keep guesswork for later. The girl cried that her m, her moth-"

Cecil swallowed and lowered his face to wipe his eyes with one hand.

Rydia spoke. "I told you she died because someone had killed her summon."

Edge fears for a moment the paladin has cracked, because Cecil laughs. "Well, you were saying that to - to anyone who passed by, more like. It's really been ten years for you, hasn't it? Rydia, I'm sorry, it's not been so long for me, and I can still-"

"Keep it together, man," Edge says. He thinks this was the right thing to say, it's not right for Cecil to need comfort from Rydia, but Rydia's focus for the first time snaps to Edge and almost burns a hole right through his skull. He withdraws. Rosa sits down next to Cecil and puts her hand in his.

"Tell me what you mean by Kain threatened you," Rydia says.

Cecil says, "Kain said we needed to kill you. The king wanted you dead. And he drew his lance. That's what you remember?"

"Yes," Rydia whispers.

"I was between you and Kain. He was preparing to attack me if I listened to him and tried to hurt you."

Rosa gasps and says, "You wouldn't have done that, Kain knew that-"

Cecil cut her off. "No, he didn't know that. When it came down to it, I was a dark knight who had just come back from kill- . . . from murdering civilians in Mysidia and stealing their crystal. I had told Kain and everyone I saw in Baron that I felt it was wrong but I had still done it."

Cecil stops and Edge knows he is about to roll around in his guilt like a pig in mud, but the story is not done. Rydia cuts off Cecil's reverie. "You pushed Kain back," she says. "Away from me."

"I pushed Kain back and said I wouldn't hurt a child. Kain said that he thought I'd say that. I don't think you heard that. Kain's an ass, I'm not denying that, but he thinks quick. The fire was there, bombs were flying, and you seemed ready to bolt. If he wanted to save you, Rydia, he couldn't wait for me to figure out my loyalties. I had the bomb ring."

Rydia exhales through her nose. "And you hadn't realized yet this was what Cagnazzo intended."

"Until Kain said so. If I . . . if I had been alone and saved you . . . Well, I wouldn't have made it that far, Kain is the only reason I . . . but if I had been alone, and thought, halfway through returning to Baron, 'I can't come back with this child' . . . I'm not sure what I would have done . . . "

Edge snaps.

"You silver-haired bastard," he snarls. "You would have killed her?"

He will not forget Cecil's expression for a long time. "The king was the only father I had ever known," he says. "I didn't think I would ever kill people begging me to just leave, but I did. I already had. For him."

"You are fucked in the head," Edge says.

"Yes," Cecil says.

"I knew you were the dark knight that attacked Mysidia, but wow. And what, you think a different guy who says he's your father cancels out this shit? Wipes the slate clean?"

"No," Cecil says.

"Would you do whatever I asked if I said I was your father?" Edge says.

"Edge," Rydia says. "It's between me and Cecil."

Edge continues, because he can't stop the fire building behind his eyes, and if he doesn't speak it will come out as something even worse. "Holy dipshit," he says.

"Right," Cecil says.

"Edge!" Rydia says. "Shut up and leave him alone. This is the part I've worked out with him already. Numerous times. You're not my, my protector or whatever it is you're trying now," she says.

"What? You think that - that I'm trying to - ? That is the last thing on my mind," Edge says. "There's too much at stake, here, way more than I realized when I first met you lot, and it turns out the man I've been trusting, everyone's been trusting, to stop Golbez is an asshole who couldn't figure out it's wrong to kill a child without his even bigger asshole friend pointing it out?"

"Edge, you're not listening. He did figure it out," Rydia said. "Wait, no, I mean, he didn't really need to ask that question. Of course he didn't. He's Cecil. Have you met him? Haven't you noticed he gets upset if he has to kill a bug?"

Cecil opens his mouth to say something. Rosa hushes him.

Edge's calm center of ninja training is gone. He is gone. His parents are dead, Eblan is in ruins, and Golbez has all but won. He has found emotional limits he didn't know he had and smashed through them like a rampaging chocobo. He yells, "Well I am definitely not flirting with you just because I'm a little concerned! That the man! Who ruined your life! Is here and you don't seem to care-"

"He did ruin my life," Rydia says, as if talking to a child. "And then he saved it." Then she crossed her arms and stared Edge down.

"Rydi-" Cecil says.

"Cecil," Rosa says, in the tensest tone Edge has heard yet from the white mage. Edge sneers down at her. "Well I'm glad someone has him on a leash," he says, and turns to leave the sealed cave.

"Where are you going?" Cecil asks.

"Fuck you!" Edge says. He starts walking. But he feels, dripping at the back of his anger, something like beginning awareness he has . . . not overreacted, but overstepped some boundary with Rydia. He will not call it a "mistake," yet.

"Edge," Rydia calls out to him. "Don't go far."

-------------------------------------------

Rydia shakes her head after Edge leaves. "What a . . . What a baby. I don't know the word for it."

"He'll calm down," Rosa says. "I think."

They are silent for too long, and it is jarring when Rosa speaks again. "Do you want me to step outside?" she says. "If you two need to speak?"

Rydia looks at Cecil. "I don't think so, no," she says. "I love you, Rosa," she adds. It is Rydia's way to be open and calm with her feelings, and say them when they occur to her, more Eidolon than human in manners. Rosa is still startled enough that she doesn't say anything besides, "Oh, I uh, I love you too, Rydia."

The weight that Cecil always presses down on himself to move forward has come back. "We shouldn't spend too much time here. The wound has closed and the potion helped the bloodloss. I can recover on the Falcon now."

"Don't push yourself," Rosa says.

"We must tell King Giott. We have all but lost," he says.

"I can't believe that about Kain," Rydia says. "You really think that, that he decided he was going to fight you that quick?"

"Ah," Cecil says, as he shifts to stand up. He presses a hand to the wall. He feels much older than just turned twenty-one. In hindsight, Kain being ready to fling himself against Cecil at a moment's notice looks bad. His thoughts swim. He is not sure if he has improved Rydia's opinion of Kain at all now.

"I wish you had told me earlier," Rydia says. "I would have forgiven him, if he asked. And now he's gone . . ."

Dancing under the stones of their feet, deeper than the foundations of the earth, is the ever-present knowledge Rydia has not said the words "I forgive you" to Cecil yet. Or maybe that is just him. He hopes Rydia has not assumed he already knew if she does or not. He has not asked her.

After today he is not sure he can.

[bandtrees]

YOU CAN CALL ME MAD PROFESSOR! I WILL MAKE A FRIEND FOR ME! YOU CAN CALL ME MAD PROFESSOR! WE WILL RULE ETERNITY! 🧬🔪🐕💉

in honor of finishing reading olympia... a fucked up and evil kain :] i don't think many people on here read olympia, but it makes everyone calling kain a good boy very funny. this is bad boy behavior

[onedivinemisfit]

Queen mother Haruto wearing a Saiid Kobeisy bridal design~

… yes, I 100% put her in a wedding dress to be able to do the bloody hem. It was too tempting. The burning woods invited themselves to the party to complete the look 😈

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata

Art: Me

[deathleadsarc]

BLOG UPDATE!! PT 2

New Ship and Relationship Tags! Romance labeled with a ❥, while the character tags will be a  🜔 for Salt

❥  And thus does the Atlas plummet from the Heavens to meet his Witch  |   HER HERO ATLAS ❥ Maestro to Aria ; Our Eternal Symphony of Love  |  HER LUCIFER SOLF ❥ Blooming in a garden of loneliness ; I see a flower that resembles you | HER KING ROY ❥ Serendipity ; we Bloom until we Ache  |   HER TURTLEDOVE EMILY ❥ You and me could move a Mountain by Gaze alone  |  HER QUEEN SATSUKI ❥ We Found Love in a Hopeless Place  |   HER WOODSMAN MARCUS ❥ How far do the Feelings go | However far you want  |   HER HEARTACHE LUXU ❥ Mischievous Heart  ; Who knew Loving could cut so deeply  |   HER MAD DOG GORO ❥ Say what you mean cause you might get it  |   HER KNIGHT JEAN ❥ Put your head on my Shoulder ; Whisper in my ear  |   HER FURY KAIN

🜔 Oh Venomous Brother ;  bloody children in crumbling sandcastles  |  OH BROTHER ZOLF 🜔 Savior from the ABYSS  |  OH DARKNESS RIKU 🜔 Savior from the STARS  |  OH LIGHT SORA 🜔 Necromancer of the Woodland Sanctuary |  OH DEADMAN LAYLETH 🜔 Can the Bravest withstand the Witch |  OH FAERIE 🜔 Gently Rapping at your Chamber Door | OH DARLING POE 🜔 First Borne Son of the Lilith | OH LILITHS LOVE BASKER 🜔 The Dog and the Wolf ; Horrors in our Nature  |   OH DESPAIR DOLCETTO 🜔 The Lightest part of the Coin  |   OH PRINCESS ZELDA 🜔 Loyal to the Very End ; Siblings to the BEAST  |   OH SERVANTS ALESSANDRA & DANTE 🜔 Daughter of Dusk ; Forgive me Forgive me  |   OH YATIR AURORA 🜔 Bonded Mammon ; Ye doth Protest too much  |   OH AVARICIOUS GREED 🜔 Violence reaching Repose  |   OH UNHEARD EMIL