#trial by pyre

[trialbypyre]

OKAY. okay. I found somewhere safe. I'm in a cave right now, so I can't make a lot of noise, but I can type.

Hello. My name is.. Sacrifice. I don't remember what it was before I got trapped in here. I've been stuck in a different world called The Pyre for months, and I just got given a phone. This is a call for help. The town I was taken from is called Addersfield. If you live around there, please start investigating. There's a cult there, and they trapped me here.

If you have information, or ways to help me live in this god forsaken hellhole, please send me an ask. I can try to inform people on the stuff here as much as I can.

[7cfc00]

home is where the heart is (and yours is gone)

[its-to-the-death]

Villain Song Showdown Preliminary Round #18

Top two will make it into the bracket

Songs below the cut

Justice Ranger Go 12th!! - Villain: Hirasaka Yomotsu

Grand Ceremony - Villain: Manley/The Chastity

Dark Riders - Villain: Katja

Luke Atmey ~ Look At Me/I Just Want Love - Villain: Luke Atmey

Swingin’ Tiger - Villain: Furio Tigre

Let Me Laugh at the Cool - Villain: Calisto Yew

The Man Who Masterminds the Game - Villain: Simon Keyes

IDENTITY UNKNOWN - Villain: The Phantom

Rondo of Science and Magic - Villain: Enoch Drebber

Untouchable Coroner - Villain: Courtney Sithe (It's on Spotify but I think I found an extended version on Youtube. Someone tell me if it's wrong.)

[indigo-constellation]

my pathologic pyre au from a few months ago, it was really fun to figure out and all because I wanted them to be in the same triumvirate and having to find a singular symbol and colour scheme for all three of them was a bit difficult.

Lore-wise Artemy is a demon who got sent by his father to the Downside to study 10 years ago, Clara got sent for having weird girl syndrome just like the vagabond/hj, and Daniil is a reader because of course he would be, imagine being able to read smh

[csb-writing-uncertainty]

Chapter 6 of TFS

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53483962/chapters/141360145

[jewels7913]

“I’m a witch and witches burn”

Front cover image for a book cover redesign I did for trial by fire by Josephine Angelini.

I have always LOVED this trilogy, I’ll post the final book design as well, just wanted to feature my version of Lily Proctor.

[misanthropiczombie]

It's not free to run, it's not free to start.

Do the people who create and run the websites you enjoy not deserve to pay their bills?

Particularly for social media sites- the work is not two hours of setting up a server you found on the side of the road and it's done.

It's THOUSANDS of dollars in hardware costs- my husband has spent 20k on REFURBISHED servers for work sometimes and that's not for customer facing websites, that's not even for INTERALLY facing programs. It's thousands a year in LICENSING costs, because the OS on the server isn't free either. Not to mention, he works literally all the fucking time. When things break, because the do quite often, he's up at 3am driving in to the office to fix it and then staying till his normal leave time. When he gets a call on saturday, he has to deal with it then. He spends hours setting up each server via such insane granular settings it'd cross your eyes. When the UPS batteries fail it is backbreaking work to haul those things out of the rack an onto a table to fix. We we were dating he was regularly pulling 90 hour weeks. For a company for which his servers are not customer facing. We outsource our customer website and we outsource our internal scheduling program.

What do you mean free? For whom? What are you contributing back that is comparable to that effort?

Expecting large social websites to be free to use and free from ads and tracker bullshit is inherently selfish. You can bemoan capitalism, but it is the structure we currently reside in and you don't start the revolution by demanding of others free labor for your pleasure time. That's just wanting to be the rich capitalist yourself.

The people who work on and run the internet deserve to get paid. They frankly probably deserve to get paid more than they are and have far, far better hours. (Did you know IT work is largely exempt from OT requirements in the USA? Section 13(a)(1) and Section 13(a)(17) of the FLSA. So long as they're making a little under $36k annually. That's it.)

-

Do i think access to the internet should be free? Yes, without a doubt. And, I think it should be codified as a public utility with all of the rules and regulations that entails (in the usa). I think very basic, low usage internet should be free and the cost of running it should be subsidized by people paying for better internet plans, and that those companies should either not be companies at all, or they should not be allowed to be publicly traded shareholder companies and should have stringent transparency requirements.

But actual websites? That take time and effort of working class people? No those should never have been entirely free and the resistance to paying into the things you utilize is the reason ads are as egregious as they are and internet security is as paper thin as it is. If you're fine with being the product (because again someone HAS to pay. Regardless of how it would be great if money didn't exist and rent was relegated to sci-fi concept novels, that is not the world we live in.) then more power to you. But to act like other people's time and labor and learning (because it's an awful lot of learning to do any of this shit) is OWED to you with zero contribution is so infuriatingly self-centered.

And don't point to mastodon. Someone is still spending real money to run those servers and expand that storage and if and when the going gets tight those things go dark in the middle of the night because the people putting the only and time in owe absolutely nothing back to you.

The reason the old internet is by and large dead is because it cost too much money and too much time for most people to run shit indefinitely, or they died and what they ran died with them.

And, if you feel so strongly it should be free: nobody is stopping you from being the person to bankroll your own set up to be free to the rest of the internet. Nobody is stopping you from picking up the skills to code and maintain hardware. And still, you cannot demand other people do the same.

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[rezwrites]

hello love, can you please write Rio Vidal x fem witch reader, where they are together on the first trial, and y/n gets hallucinations about something traumatic and Rio is immediately there to comfort her?

Of course!

Warnings: hurt/comfort, poisoned wine, hallucinations of almost burning at the stake

Racing against the clock everybody searches the house trying to find the ingredients for the antidote. Rio and you were tasked to find guts of a eusocial insect for the potion.

Wandering around the house looking for clues, a sudden fog shrouded you, Rio suddenly no where to be found. A familiar white door appeared behind you, faint yelling coming from the other side. You hesitantly opened the door, to townsfolk facing you with torches and weapons.

“No, no, not again,” You panicked, powerless as they dragged you to the pyre in the middle of the towns square. Tears cascading down your cheeks as you were tied to the stake by thick rope. A few men threw extra kindling on the pyre, spitting at your shoes and hurling insults towards you before they turned away.

“Burn in hell, you devil.” Those words stung deeply all over again. Many people branded you as a monster, despite you using your gifts to help people constantly. In spite of all the hatred and anger you received you never once turned your back on those in need.

Before the mayor lit the pyre, you hear Rio’s voice calling to you. Hyperventilating as Rio came into your view. “Hey, hey. Deep breaths, follow my breathing,” She runs her hands down your shoulders, pulling you close. She held you tight as you breathed in time with her, gradually calming down.

“I got you, you’re safe now. You’ll always be safe in my arms.” You ease yourself upon hearing those words. Chuckling at the fact that she still says that line as sweetly as she did that day she saved you from the stake, all those centuries ago. You give her forearm a gentle squeeze, signaling to her that you're alright now.

“I found the guts. Let’s get back to Jen so we can finish the antidote.” She guided you back to the kitchen a hand on your lower back, keeping you close.

[overlyspecific]

Part 6 of Merlin Hood

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

Still in the past at Merlin’s magic trial, next part will be back to the present!

The first thing Merlin notices when he wakes up is that it’s daylight. He should have waken Arthur up hours ago, but somethings not right. Merlin knows he didnt need to wake Arthur up today for some reason, but what was the reason?

Uther: Merlin of Ealdor, you stand accused of using magic and treason to the crown. What do you have to say for yourself?

Oh, that’s right, its because Merlin is to be put to death today.

Uther: Well, do you have anything to say?

Merlin: *mumbles under his breath*

Uther: *angry* What was that?

Merlin: I said, ‘What makes me any different?’

Uther: 😡 What?

Merlin: Its just that you’ve murdered thousands of sorcerers and magical beings and never listened to them. What makes me any different?

Arthur: Merlin!

Merlin: No, Arthur, I’m already going to die, no thanks to you. I’d like to finally get the answers to questions I’ve been silent about my whole life.

Arthur looks at Merlin with a look on his face between apologetic and confused. Merlin has always found that look adorable, but under the current circumstances he has to look away. Arthur cant save him now.

Uther: You said you have your questions. I am willing to hear your last remarks. Ask away but do not expect any answers.

Merlin: Great! First question, when you decided to keep the last great dragon under the castle, did you do that just so he could torture me with half truths and vague prophecies or did he decide to do that on his own?

Uther: The great dragon?

Merlin: From the look on your face, I’m going to take that as a no and that you maybe didnt even know he could talk. Next question: the law says its illegal to ‘study and practice magic’ if I didnt study it, but just practiced it, would it still be a death sentence or could I be let off with a time served kind of deal?

Gauis: Merlin!

Merlin: What! I’m gonna die anyway, might as well see if there is any leniency.

Uther: So, you admit to practicing magic, then? Guards, take the prisoner to the pyre! I dont want to hear another word.

Merlin: *smiling a little too wide to be friendly* …And here I thought you actually wanted to hear me out. *Merlin shakes his head* Oh, Uther, you see, I don’t just practice magic. I am magic.

As the guards approach Merlin from all sides, he snaps his fingers and disappears.

Uther: Find him!

Merlin: *appears right behind Arthur* Arthur.

Arthur: *spins around too quickly in fright and tumbles into Merlin, who catches him* Ahh!

Merlin: *smiling while trying to keep Arthur upright* I don’t have much time.

Uther: There! *points at Merlin* Get away from my son!

Merlin: *takes off his neckerchief* If you ever need me for any reason, *starts to hand the neckerchief to Arthur, but Arthur doesn’t take it* seriously, Arthur, I’m trying to have a heartfelt moment here, you utter prat.

Arthur: *starts to smile at the insult, but quickly hides it with his blank princely expression* Merlin, you have to leave.

Merlin: That’s what I’m trying to do! *hastily ties the neckerchief around Arthurs wrist* If you need me, leave that in the darkling woods and I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Merlin jumps onto the throne that Uther vacated when Merlin vanished.

Merlin: People of Camelot! I will not die at the hands of King Uther in his unjust war on magic. I am Emrys, the most powerful warlock to ever walk the Earth. The Once and Future king is the only one I serve. I will be back when he reigns. Until then, however… *Merlin looks directly at Uther* …I’m going to make your life a very difficult. *turns to Gwen and Morgana* If anyone needs me I’m only a call away. *Merlin snaps his fingers and disappears again*

In Merlin’s absence, flowers fill the room and nobody says a word just staring at the flowers around them completely covering the floor.

Morgana: *picks up a flower and puts it in Gwen’s hair* Beautiful.

Gwen: *smiles, before creasing her eyes in worry* Do you think he’ll be alright?

Morgana: *looking over at Arthur who is staring solemnly at the neckerchief tied around his wrist* I’ll think he’ll be just fine.

[merlinmylove]

I always find it so funny (in a heartbreaking way) when Arthur says “why didn’t you tell me?”

like dude ??

Merlin’s entire existence is outlawed

he was born a crime

how could he have, especially if Uther was still alive?

I understand Arthur feels betrayed and hurt because Merlin didn’t trust him but cmon let’s look at the show

Merlin has been sent to the stocks and the dungeons for being late with breakfast and missing laundry — what would the punishment be if he told the Crown Prince he was a traitor to the kingdom? Banishment, death, or worse? And what if Uther found out?

I don’t think Arthur would’ve killed Merlin, but he would’ve sent him away or hated himself for harbouring a sorcerer — he’s now a hypocrite for putting one person above the law while his father burns druid children

Gaius would’ve been hanged by association, and his mother killed for having concealed a dragonlord (let alone giving birth to another one)

Gwen was arrested twice on suspicion of sorcery, and Uther ordered her pyre built — the only reason she didn’t burn is because 1.Morgana spoke in her favour and, 2. Another sorcerer took the blame

(I love arthur so much but why does he never consider the fact that the love of his life and future queen, was almost innocently executed twice because there is no way of confirming she didn’t use magic — because how does one prove a negative?)

And I doubt Gwen is the first and only person to be falsely accused of sorcery, but she’s the one of few who had friends in high places who were willing to defy the King in order to save her life

If a Kings word is law then why even bother with a trial?

We’ve seen several times that Witchfinders or Druid catchers can steal people (probably citizens from other kingdoms) and earn a living by selling them to the King of Camelot

(and i don’t belive for a second every one of them had magic or were druids. Besides, the whole court now believes the witchfinder to be a fraud, so why does no one think about the future people accused of magic — how does one prove it?)

Mordred was hunted throughout the kingdom for a week simply for being born a druid (neither the King nor Arthur had any way of knowing if he actually had magic, he was simply guilty for existing within the borders of Camelot)

(Arthur risked everything in order to save the little druid boy — i wish this was spoken about more in the show but alas. Also, Gaius mentioned that Uther drowned several children — why does no one in the show discuss this? Does Arthur not know?

We know he feels immense guilt and grief over the raid in the druid camp he led and he did atone for it. I love Bradley’s acting in that scene, his voice breaks as he accepts the reality of what he has been apart of

Merlin saw all this. He lived all of it. How could he have told Arthur he had magic and expected a good outcome? He wanted to, multiple times — but the risk of banishment was too great.

But what about after Arthur is King? How could Merlin tell Arthur he has magic after Uther dies from magic, Morgana has gone mad from magic, and Aggrevaine betrayed him? Merlin could not bring himself to add more betrayal and heartbreak onto Arthur

I adore when fanfic discusses these aspects of the show and actually talks in detail about the horror Uther caused for over 20 years

Make Arthur think for himself and come to terms with what his father did, and also what his own legacy now is

Make Mordred, Morgana, Gaius, and Merlin talk about the horrors of the purge, and the the fear of living under Uthers rule

Make Gwen speak of what she experienced when she, and her father, were wrongly accused of a crime they didn’t commit — they were going to burn innocently, just like those children Uther killed

By Uthers logic Magic corrupts. It is a power one seeks out and must be studied. It is an evil — if that is the case then why did he allow Gaius to remain at court, and privately attend the king and his children? Surely Gaius would be corrupted by now…unless magic does not always corrupt…

I want Arthur to ask himself these questions— why was Gaius (the Kings friend) allowed to stay alive if he simply promised not to use magic again? Why were those innocent druid children not given the same choice?

Arthur asks himself several times if Magic is always evil, or if it can be used for good — and some times it’s almost successful, but in the end it’s like a catch 22 — Arthur sees (mostly) magic being used for evil so therefore it must be evil

I don’t want Merlin to be angry with Arthur or to have a screaming match with him — but I do love when Merlin passively aggressively sets the record straight

The canon answer he gives is “you would’ve chopped my head off” is perfect in my opinion because YES death always a possibility

Especially if Uther found out

(i don’t think Merlin is entirely blameless of course, he could’ve tried harder to sow the seed of doubt in arthur’s mind that maybe magic is not always evil — like after morgause or when arthur requested magic to heal his father, or when magic saves gwens life)

(if only merlin was braver, if only gaius was bolder, if only aggrevaine didn’t betray him, if only gwen spoke up, if only if only if only)

i love these boys so much and i love the angst and arthur’s heartbreak is so painful and merlin’s guilt is all-consuming

thank god for fanfic lol

but anyways this is my rant because i’m bored at my family christmas dinner so

[call-sign-shark]

Pairing: The Darkling x Heartrender!You || The Darkling x HeartrenderOC!Reader

Summary: Your escape ends abruptly at the hands of the Drüskelles. And yet, on the night of your execution, the darkness has never been so warm and welcoming. Today is not the day you die, you hear it whispering.

Words: 3.2K

TW: Sexual assault attempt, graphic description of murders, mention of prostitution and child SA, hurt/comfort.

Part II - Their Frozen Shackles

Previous || Masterlist || Next

The thick rope they tied you up with bit into your slim wrists, their coarse fibers scraping your skin raw as you struggled against your bindings.

"Faster." A gargantuan soldier growled, pushing you with so much strength you tripped and almost fell on the snow-covered ground. You glared at him, your pale eyes briefly diving into his. After fleeing for one year, you finally got caught in the middle of nowhere. One minute you were walking through the frozen trees and the other you were shoved on the snow, a man's knee pressing on your back so painfully you couldn't breathe anymore. Those cursed Drüskelle had been prepared, ambushing you with a precision that left no room for escape. Now bound and gagged, you had no other choice than to follow them despite your weak body, aching from the journey's relentless pace.

Your captors barely spoke but their grim expressions as well as the disgust that was burning in their eyes each time they looked at you was a constant reminder of what awaited you in Fjerda. A joke of a trial. The stories of Grisha hunted like animals, dragged to the pyres where fire would consume them as crowds cheered, haunted you. So, that's how I'm going to die, you thought bitterly and a shiver ran through you. This time, it wasn't from the cold.

"Let's stop here for the night." The same rugged man from the North said.

The camp came alive as night fell, the Drüskelles setting up the perimeter with an efficiency that spoke of experience. Observing the silhouettes of tents and men, you let out a sigh at the unpleasant sensation of the cold gnawing at your cheeks. You were standing slumped against a tree, your legs and arms released from the bite of ropes only to be restrained by heavy and frozen shackles. Your white hair, matted with dirt and snow, clung to your seraphic face as you looked dagger at the men who dared approach a bit too close to your liking. Even chained and vulnerable, most of them didn't meet your gaze.

"She's quiet", one of them muttered, his tone uneasy but a sparkle of morbid curiosity twinkling in his dark pupils, "And she's so... frail." The soldier added, fascinated by how the witch's long white hair danced in the wind.

"She's dangerous," another corrected and, by reflex, his grip tightened on his axe, "Don't let her tricks nor look fool you. She's a goddamn murderous witch. And the worst of them."

A witch. A monster. An abomination. You had heard it all before and yet, the sharp edges of those words still cut you deep. Closing your eyes, you did your best to steady your breath and fight against the frustration of not being able to use your powers to break free.

The camp was quiet under the shroud of night, save for the occasional crackle of dying fires or the muffled rustle of snow beneath the guard's boots. While most of them were comfortably sleeping in their tents, the cruel wind that swept through the barren forest cut to your bones, but you had stopped noticing it. The cold had long since seeped into your skin, the frozen chain that bound your wrists pressing against your wounds. You sat in the cage they put you in, knees pulled to your chest and your snow-white mane tumbling around you like a grim shroud. The feeling of powerlessness crept into you, twisting your stomach and making you grind your teeth. That burning hatred simmered in you but what could you do except wait? Wait for this nightmare to end. Wait for your inevitable death.

You remained still, your icy aquamarine gaze locked on the frost-covered bars of your cage. As far as you can remember, rage has always coiled in you like a living thing and no matter your divine appearance, you were all but a saint. Nor a martyr. Just a storm waiting to roar.

The sound of boots crunching against the snow suddenly broke your reverie though. The Drüskelle captain who kept pushing you a few hours ago strode toward you, his tall and muscular frame looking even more massive against the dim firelight. Still, you could see his face in the twilight: a rough-hewn face, with a scar slicing through his brow and a look of cold, cruel authority etched on it. His long blonde hair was tied in a quick, messy man bun.

"Change of plans," he said to the guards who were watching you, "We're not dragging her back to Fjerda. Can't take the risk."

One of the guards hesitated. He looked at his fellow brother before he spoke. “But the trial—”

“No trial,” the captain snapped, refusing to wait for him to finish his sentence. “I’ll take her head myself. It’s cleaner this way. Fewer men dead because they underestimated what’s in that cage.” His voice was a low and predatory rumble.

Your chest tightened at his words, but you refused to flinch. It was something you never did in the Menagerie and you weren't going to start now. Even though you had remained quiet since they caught you, your eyes met his sky-blue gaze with defiance, "Afraid, are you? That's wise" Your voice, haunting and steady, howled with the winter wind.

The captain's lips curled into a thin, mocking smile. "You think you're clever, don't you, witch?" With one brutal shove, he pushed the guard out of his way and motioned for the others to step back, "I've seen your kind burn and, trust me, y'all scream the same in the end."

Brutal rage flashed within you as the captain opened the cage himself under his men's terrified eyes, stepping inside with the same disgusting look your wealthy client had on their face back at the Menagerie: the look of a man who thought he held all the power over you. His strong hand suddenly grabbed your wrist and forced you to stand.

"Before we finish this," He murmured, leaning over you until his face was level with yours. His unfinished sentence floated in the air as his eyes fell on your fleshy lips, chapped due to the cold, "I think I'll indulge myself. Never had a witch before. Pretty sure you're tight pussy might worth the risk and keep me warm in this cruel weather."

He reached out, brushing a gloved hand against your cheek. The sudden physical contact made your stomach churn with revulsion. A shiver of fear crawled beneath your skin, cold and sharp as a blade, at the thought of this man ravaging you. Despite your stillness, a tinge of fear pinched your heart for all your life men had used your body as if it was nothing but a toy to twist and break.

"Fucking animal." You whispered back to him without faltering. If anything, your eyes hardened, the frost within them sharper than the crisp winter air.

"I do fuck like an animal, y'know. Like a wolf." The captain leaned closer, all his height towering over you and his breath hot against your face, "Terrifying, they say. That you can kill with one sole movement of your little hands..." His hand trailed down your jaw to your throat, lingering there to feel your pulse quicken under his touch, "But here you are, helpless as a lamb." His hand freed your throat as he spoke but the relief was short for this time, he cupped one of your small breasts, "I wonder, does the evil witch they talk about bleed like a woman?" Fear followed close behind, a visceral feeling that bloomed in your chest as he started painfully playing with your nipple -- bile rose when he pressed his hardening cock between your legs, "Is your cunt tighter?"

You didn't respond, or struggle. In fact, you simply stared at him, until his smug confidence began to flicker with unease and his ego hurt by your lack of fear.

"What?" He snapped, gripping your chin roughly with his free hand, "No threat? No last words?"

To this, your only reply was a faint smile that ghosted across your lips, brittle as ice, "Just this: you should've killed me when you had the chance."

Before the captain could retort, the shadows seemed to shift around you. Then, the fire flickered, dimmed, and extinguished entirely even though the wind was low.

"What's happening?!" One of the Drüskelles hissed, his voice filled with fear as he looked around him. An unexplainable panic started to fill the camp, the air thickening with an oppressive weight that pressed against your chest and stole your breath. The darkness around you seemed to pulse, alive and watchful, carrying a power that made your blood hum in recognition — but in recognition of what? you thought, feeling suddenly as frightened by this suffocating presence as your captors. It was heavy, unsettling, as if an imminent threat other than you was about to be unleashed. And yet, contrary to the Drüskelles', you felt something deeper beneath the unease. A pull that felt like a whisper in your bones, calling you home.

Come to me.

I’ve been waiting for you all my life.

Come to me.

A figure emerged from the darkness, cloaked in black, his movement unnervingly calm amidst the chaos. The shadows clung to this tall silhouette like a living thing, shifting and weighting as though they obeyed his every wish and command.

"Who's there? Who the fuck are you?!" The leader barked, pushing himself away from you to reach for his sword and unsheathe it.

The mysterious and threatening man didn't answer. Instead, he raised a gloved hand and, all of sudden, the shadows that were dancing around him surged forward like panthers pouncing on a bunch of easy prey. The screams came next, sharp and agonizing, tearing the silent veil of the night as the darkness attacked the Drüskelle one by one — some devoured, swallowed by it, others cut into pieces by pitch-black blades.

Utterly terrified, you dropped to the ground, turned your head away and squeezed your eyes shut just like you did when you were a child. Your stomach twisted again as the air around you filled with the wet, choking sounds of death and the metallic smell of blood you knew far too well. The Drüskelles' shrieks were inhumane, otherworldly wrapped in pain, but all you could hear was the loud drums of your heart beating so violently in your chest that you thought it would burst your ribcage open.

Only when the silence returned did you dare open your eyes, blinking and cautiously surveying your surroundings for you feared the slightest hasty movement would cost you your life. The sight that met your icy eyes squeezed the air out of you again — a dozen bodies laid discarded on the ground, mangled in such a gruesome way that you felt slightly sick in the stomach, even with your high tolerance to horrors. Slowly, you moved your feet and crunched the snow beneath them to check if you were still alive: the snow around you was drenched in crimson, stark and jarring against its pale coat, and forming long trails like veins spreading through the ice.

Then the shock wore off, leaving its place to another surge of panic: the creature responsible for such manslaughter was still there. You raised your head with hast, looking for it.

The figure stepped closer and as he did the pale moonlight faintly illuminated his face, unveiling the traits of a man, not the wraith you were expecting. The more he walked toward you, the more his physical traits came into sharp focus. Your eyes locked onto his, breath still caught in your throat as he fully emerged from the shadows — hypnotizing features carved with precision, framed by black hair perfectly slicked back. His deep-set eyes, two haunting obsidians, glimmered with an unfathomable intensity, their depths both alluring and dizzying like the event horizon of two soul-sucking black holes. Your eyes lingered a bit longer on him, observing his angular jawline, the shadow of his beard and the way his seductive lips were curved in a faint, enigmatic smirk that exuded both charm and danger.

General Kirigan.

He knelt before you, his dark eyes sweeping over your huddled-up form, "You've caused quite a stir," he said calmly, his voice surprisingly smooth and tinged with a barely perceptible amusement. His long black coat draped over his form like liquid darkness, blending with the night.

“And you’ve made a mess,” You retorted after a few long seconds, carefully relaxing your shoulders and raising your head.

The corner of his mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. “Only a necessary one.” With a slight flick of his wrist, the shadows suddenly cut through your shackles and dropped on the bloodied snow with a muffled thud. As soon as you could move, you rubbed your raw and bruised wrists to soothe the soreness — your gaze never left his.

"Why are you here?" Your tone was wary, but far from trembling.

Kirigan straightened, his tall and lean body towering over you as he offered his gloved hand, "I've come for you" he replied, the inky abyss of his eyes was laced with an unearthly gleam, both inviting and terrifying. For a brief moment, you felt as if he could see into the deepest corners of your soul, the sensation was worse than being stripped naked in the cold, "I've been looking for you and I must admit that you are quite good at hiding."

Your jaw tightened, still taken aback by his magnetic presence and the adrenaline, but you finally took his hand and let him pull you to your feet. Despite the leather of his glove, you could feel the jarring warmth of his touch, which created a stark contrast to the coldness of the night. Back on your feet, you had expected him to release your hand but he did the opposite — his long fingers gently squeezed it, trying to warm your skin up.

"What do you want from me?" You pressed, behaving like a wild and cornered animal no matter the fear that clawed at you.

"What do I want?" He echoed, his voice velvet and firm at the same time. Kirigan's gaze lingered on you, observing the tiniest details of your face just like you did. You were a vision of unsettling perfection, as though carved from ice and shadow. Your snow-white hair — damp because of the snow — cascaded in silken slight waves to your lower back and framed a face that seemed too delicate to be real. "I want like most people want when they hear tales and rumors," He drawled, his black eyes fascinated by your porcelain skin. Your features were impossibly dainty, the kind of beauty that felt so otherworldly that it came off as eerie. To be honest, reminded him of a broken doll. Your heart missed a beat when you noticed his pupils dropping on your plump, inviting lips, tinted like frost-kissed rose petals, "I want to unravel the mystery."

You could not help but snort, "A mystery... And why should I trust you, then?"

Aleksander shrugged off his black coat in one swift motion and stepped closer to drape it over your frail shoulders with unexpected care. The weight of the coat was grounding and the warmth from his body, still deeply woven with the fabric, seeped into your cold skin. "You don’t have to trust me, but consider your alternatives. You’ve seen what they wanted from you.” His gaze flicked to the Drüskelle corpses scattered nearby, then back to you. The beautiful contrast of the dark coat against your small and pale figure made you seem even more delicate, like a fragile snowflake caught in a storm. His hands lingered briefly on the edges, steadily and protectively, before he stepped back from your private space.

'You’re no different. You want something from me, too." You said but grabbed the collar of his coat and lift it to your throat to protect you from the wind.

"Of course I do,” Aleksander retorted, “But I’m offering you something in return. Freedom. Safety. A chance to control the power that terrifies them. Or would you rather keep running, waiting for the next set of chains?”

His words felt like a punch in the guts. Chains. The simple mention of it made all your body tense. Your breath hitched but remained silent.

"I don’t think you want to be afraid anymore. Don't you think you deserve more than a life on the run?”

You studied him, your icy eyes narrowing, as if searching for cracks in his composure. Or instruction to decipher his intentions “And if I say no?”

He tilted his head, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips. “Then I leave. You’ll never see me again.” His voice dipped, a subtle thread of urgency weaving through. Aleksander sounded sincere, but a part of him knew that he was openly lying: letting you run away was not an option, "But you know I'm right, even though you'd probably hate admitting it."

Your cold fingers curled into the fabric of his coat as your mind try to come up with a solution. Yet, exhaustion was weighing on your shoulders like lead now that the adrenaline was wearing off, making his promise of safety even more tempting. You finally exhaled, shoulders slumping. "Fine."

"Let's get you some food and a warm bath." He said, the ghost of a smile flirting with his lips for a brief moment as he offered you his hand again.

You hesitated before taking it, your small and bloodied fingers disappearing into his gloved palm. The promise of something filling to eat and a comfortable place to sleep definitely convinced you.

Moments later, General Kirigan helped you climb onto the back of his black horse. The mighty beast's hairs were gleaming like onyx under the moonlight and a little voice in your head couldn't help but wonder if the animal too was made of shadow. Too drained to argue or ask other questions, you leaned against his back as he mounted, your body limp except for your arms wrapped around his waist. Admittingly, his warmth was an unexpected comfort against the chill of the night and the latest events. Despite yourself, you let your head rest lightly against his shoulder and tried your best to forget about the Drüskelle Captain's hands roaming all over you. To forget about the clients' hands too.

Aleksander stiffened for the briefest moment, surprised by the sudden sensation of your small frame pressing against his back. A flicker of something unnameable crossed his face —possessive, almost tender— before a satisfied smirk crept over his lips. The general's hands tightened around the reins as if anchoring himself too, the faintest whisper of a thought blooming in his mind: Mine.

"Rest now," he said softly, riding into the night. His soothing voice lulled you, resulting in your eyes fluttering close, "You're safe with me."

And though you weren't sure you believed him, for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to hope.

taglist: @lunawants , @emtaz-art, @lightinbug, @kmc1989, @thepassionatereader

Please consider reblogging and commenting. It is what motivates writers.

[trialbypyre]

https://www.tumblr.com/trialbypyre/764462247541096448/hotel-oscar-whiskey-alpha-romeo-echo-yankee-oscar

Delta Oscar November Tango Tango Hotel India November Kilo Tango Hotel Echo Yankee Delta Oscar November Tango Tango Alpha Lima Kilo Alpha Bravo Oscar Uniform Tango Yankee Oscar Uniform.

..[India ' Delta Golf Echo Tango Tango Hotel Echo Mike Tango Oscar Papa India Papa Echo Delta Oscar Whiskey November]

[Bravo Uniform Tango Foxtrot Oscar Romeo Oscar November Echo, India ' Mike November Oscar Tango Golf Oscar India November Golf Tango Oscar Romeo Uniform India November Alpha November Yankee Charlie Hotel Alpha November Charlie Echo India Hotel Alpha Victor Echo Alpha Tango Papa Romeo Oscar Mike Oscar Tango India Oscar November.]

[Tango Whiskey Oscar, India Tango ' Sierra Hotel Oscar November Echo Sierra Tango Lima Yankee Romeo Echo Alpha Lima Lima Yankee India November Tango Romeo India Golf Uniform India November Golf Tango Oscar Hotel Echo Alpha Romeo Alpha Bravo Oscar Uniform Tango Sierra Oscar Mike Echo Oscar November Echo Lima India Victor India November Golf India November Tango Hotel Echo Papa Yankee Romeo Echo..]

This is a headache to decipher. Uhh... They talk about me? So you are part of the cult. Fun. Why do they talk about me??

One word of advice, run for the hills. Don't get that promotion. But you're not going to listen to me.

Living in the Pyre sucks. Why don't you come find out for yourself? I'd be happy to greet you.

[inexplicifics]

I was rereading the AWAU series and I had to double-check the timeline because I’m not sure I ever connected the ages. You’re telling me Milena and Julita are the same age and the grasses were still regularly killing kids until they were 10?! If the Trials took place every 4 or so years, was Julita ever at an age that she knew those screams could be the last sound those kids ever made? I thought the grasses were changed a few years earlier than that, I didn't realize Julita might actually be able to remember the pyres for the kids that didn't make it through... Does she remember? For some reason, I always thought Milena was younger just because Julita seems so comfortable with herself and everything, though it makes sense that Milena wouldn’t have the same level of confidence since she didn't grow up at Kaer Morhen

Yes, Milena and Julita are the same age, and the Trials were still 70% fatal up until they were ten or so.

Julita probably does remember, if faintly.

Milena has had much less time being encouraged to grow into herself and become who she wants to be, which is why Julita feels more settled in her own skin.

[may-be-made-of-arsenic]

for Odysseus’ name to become synonymous with journey; Odyssey- he has lost his humanity; even after he dies and his body burnt to ashes on a pyre he won’t enter Hades. he will be damned to a thousand more journeys, a thousand more trials and a thousand more deaths. his spirit floats through the plays that recite his journey, echoes through the songs sung about him, his pain seeks through every epithet. Sacker of cities. Great glory of the Achaeans. Mastermind of war. Master mariner. Man of pain.

he will be damned time and time again to suffer and reach home for it to be torn out of his grasp each time. he will reach where the river styx fades into Hades and see the descent and before he can feel relief he is back where he started. He is in Troy. He is in a boat in an unfamiliar land, but it has his name. He is in Troy again, but not the same one he raided and burnt. he is floating through the aether. he is not a man anymore. nor is he monster. he is a Thing, an Ideal; akin more to Thanatos or Hypnos or Eris in he is no longer Odysseus he is the personification of journey.

If there truly are three deaths; one of the mind, one of the heart, and one of the memory. then Odysseus has become immortal and yet he begs for death. he no longer knows whether he begs for the peace of Hades or to truly be forgotten, to truly cease to be

[theamazingmaddyas]

The top five Trials of Apollo deaths based on how hard I sobbed, in honor of me finishing my first Trials of Apollo reread since it's release: obvious spoilers

5) Jason Grace

Look, I love Jason, he's an amazing character, and I did cry a bit, but we talk about his death all the time as a fandom, I'm a bit desensitized to it. Leo coming back at the end of the Burning Maze and Thalia in The Tyrant's Tomb? That did have me balling, but his death scene, as heart wrenching as it was, never really left my mind like much of the other stuff.

4) The Arrow of Dodona

Dude, I should not have sobbed that hard at an arrow that uses Shakespearean English losing sentience, but I did.

3) Dakota, son of Bacchus

Them putting kool-aid on his pyre did me in. Everyone else is in denial about Jason's death, but I'm in denial about Dakota. I adore him.

2) Don the Faun

Don asking for money one last time had me hyperventalating.

1) Crest

I had to take a break from how hard I was sobbing at this part. Crest is my child, and, as a fandom, we need to talk about him way more.

[csb-writing-uncertainty]

Chapter 5 of TFS

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53483962/chapters/140642119