heretical hubris

when last we had spoken/ there was not a year past/

but now here we are/ for time does not last/

it is present/ it is future/ it is a constant dying now/

and i can think of no better way to fill it/

than to adjust the crown atop my brow/

time has called upon us/ again/

time for acceptance/ for withheld grief/

for commiseration/ the loss of a sheathe/

worn to protect us/ less fortunate/ being brief/

it’s time for hubris/

time for spite/ cared for in closets/

locked carefully/ defended from probing posits/

about queerness/ about you/ about a hundred things really/

about a label/ about a statement/ as conversations turn chilly/

and the self is packed away/ questions are deflected with hollow eyes/

until there is no-one to question/ the constant disguise/

but now/ my dear friends/

it is time/ i implore you/

to let go of habits/ let the spirits adore you/

for pride month has dawned/ entire weeks sit before you/

to indulge in sweet victory/ let hubris restore you/

for you’ve endured so much/ for so long/

allow me to regale you/ in tales of your bravery/

allow me to sing praises/ of pride not my own/

allow me to revel/ in actions all kinds of unsavory/

allow me to invite you/ to the heights of your throne/

i’ve missed you/ dear heretics/

though some of you remained/

faithfully mine/ less faithfully yours/

but in glorious anonymity/ i’ve no relationship strained/

i’m so glad to see you/ my queers made of stardust/

and to welcome you back/ those made of earth/ and rain/

to praise your well-worn titles/ fought for/ forged in blood and pain/

and celebrate your new ones/ encourage the pursuit of change/

a successful chase for the evolving state/ of you/

it does not matter if you meet this pride/

with differing titles than the last time/ you hopped on the ride/

of brotherhood/ and camaraderie/ and wisdom provide/

between new knights/ and old queens/

and find that the person you wore last has died/

labels are designed to comfort/ not ensnare/

there is no betrayal to be had to an identity/

then to force yourself to conform to it/ to cause yourself despair/

you are not damaged goods/ you are not a liar/

you need not hold a warning/ beware/

you are an ocean/ unto yourself/

and who knows what kind of fucking jellyfish are wriggling around in there/

to those who find comfort in their longstanding titles/

i applaud you/ and ask only that you allow/ how vital/

acceptance/ community is/ for those trying on names like makeup/

for those adamant/ and erased/

we/ are the citizens of this alphabet mafia/

we fill its ranks with glowing pride/

we are not infallible/ for we all are human/

but i would argue/ amongst peers we thrive/

i have no intention/ of inviting myself to the stage/

as last time i penned such a letter/ i put myself to page/

in an effort to produce understanding/ allowing your heretics a gauge/

to view my missives/ and introduce my position/ of all but my age/

and it would be in tradition to allow myself/

a brief admission/ under spotlight/

to spin a tale/ shorter/ i promise/

but no less brimming in personal wealth/

i stand in these words/ proud and asexual/

i cry before my peers/ staggered and lesbian/

i unfurl a body i held no trust in/ for far too long/

and call this is my total/ i am nonbinary/ i am genderqueer/

i am myself/ and i weep not for sadness/

i weep for my betters/ contemporary and otherwise/

who have provided this path forward/

i catch gazes and smile/ at recognition in watery eyes/

some of which are my own/ as i sprint my way toward/

a future i thought lost to me/ in a past i’d not reprise/

one of acceptance/ and love/ in thousands of colors/

hundreds of stripes/ that contain millions of people/

the laughter of self fulfillment/ the heart-clench of lovers/

no instance worth less than any contemporary/

no identity less valuable than others/

it is with these words i usher in/ a shining new pride month/

and wave good fortune to all of those joining me/

and swear to secrets for all of those holding out/ until they find themself free/

enough to partake in this favorite of my sins/ forgive me my glee/

in Glorious Pride/ you phenomenal problems/ 

Glorious Pride/ you thriving off key//

Tag game!

Thank you @subtlybrilliant for tagging me 😊 haven’t done one of these in ages~

1) Post your lock screen

my lovely vin zhang. i have a student who saw my lock screen in the past month and told me he’s not cute 🥲 also asked if he was my dad 😂 i’ve probably had this lock screen for 3 or 4 years now. i think abt changing it once in a while but this was such a good photo shoot 🤭

2) What did NASA see on your birthday?

(This is based in an original post created by withlovefromolympus)

Use this link and enter your birth month and day to see what the Hubble Telescope saw on the day you were born!

*feel free to click on “see full image” and just post the picture if you don’t want to share the date. or just put what you got in the tags! For instance, this is mine:

Galaxies in the GOODS-North Field

This image captures about 15,000 galaxies stretching back through 11 billion years of cosmic history. Hubble examined this part of the sky, located near the Big Dipper and called the GOODS-North field, as part of the Great Observatories Origins Deep Survey (GOODS).

this is a nice photo c:

3) UQuiz: What type of mutual are you?

Link here

“The fun one!

“You’re so funny, you make me laugh and I just overall can’t wait for the next crazy entertaining and funny thing you’ll post next! You might be a bit of a airhead or sassy but you’re so much fun to hang around! And your posts probably make me double over and die of laughter. Or they would if I had any skill in showing my emotions.”

lolol we sure??? _(:з)∠)_

4) Make a picrew OF A SWORD!!!

Link here!

ornate 🧡💙

also lmao i made mine on the desktop & then saved this as a draft to go back on my phone for the lock screen & opened tumblr & it was on @subtlybrilliant’s sword and they’re similar 😂😅

5) This or That

hot shower or cold shower // leather or silk // texting or calling // mermaids or sirens // earbuds or headphones // 12 hour clock or 24 hour clock // coffee date or picnic date // sunsets or sunrises // sci-fi or horror or fantasy // pen or pencil // gold or silver // sneakers or boots // glasses or contacts // denim jacket or leather jacket // chocolate or sour candy // drive-in movie, theater or the cinema // rainstorms at night or sunny days // pastel colors or neutral earth tones (or jewel tones)// lemonade or fruit juice // past or future // rooftops or balconies // moon or sun (or stars)// fight or flight // order or chaos //

Tagging @heretic--child @my-final-farewell @em-java @lewatigress & anyone else interested ☺️

Draw your swords, pt.9

Summary: Darkling’s secrets are soon to be unveiled, just in time for a trip to the Fold.

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of alcohol, implied sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven // Part eight  

=================================

The Darkling walked with a spring in his step. Residents of Little Palace have gotten used to his skulking in black keftas he wore like second skin. Never before had they seen him smile as much as he did on this particular day – as if he found the secret to happiness.

In truth, the Darkling refused to let himself hope for much. He simply hoped she’d allow him to kiss her now without receiving a death threat for it. It felt incredibly dangerous how foolishly addicted he is to his fickle wife. He never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her.

“General”, Fedyor joined him on his right, while Ivan silently took his left side. They both kept a reasonable distance from Kirigan, two steps behind at all times.

“What reason did you have to knock on my door this morning?” Kirigan’s voice is leveled, but his words are a death trap. There’s nothing more the general hates than his Grisha interrupting his private time – regardless if Y/N is with him or not. Unless there’s a burning issue at hand, he disliked being bothered unnecessarily.

“We’ve intercepted a few interesting stories you might like”, Ivan responds calmly, unafraid of his temperamental general. After all the years they’ve known each other, Ivan could read Kirigan’s mood easily. Despite his discontent, Kirigan is chipper for the first time in a long time. In fact, Ivan can’t even remember the last time his general was this happy...or happy at all.

“What kind?” Darkling asked, but his attention was undeniably divided as he caught sight of Y/N. 

She walked across the hallway with a purpose – determined to raise hell and he found it incredibly sexy. She paused for a moment, her gaze meeting his briefly. When she pursed her lips, his twitched at the corners – a smile starting to form.

“Sun Summoner kind”, Fedyor spoke in a hushed voice.

Kirigan’s smile falters, his eyes leaving Y/N’s. “Follow me”, he barked on order before walking in the opposite direction. 

All his life, the Darkling had been searching for the Sun Summoner. Every whisper of their existence turned out to be nothing but a fabrication, but something felt different now.

Once inside the map room, he leaned with his palms on the table. Kirigan didn’t say anything for a moment or ask for more information, but then his mouth moved on their own accord.

“Is it true?”

Glancing at each other, Ivan and Fedyor silently argued who should deliver the news.

“I asked you a question”, the general growled out, looking at them over his shoulder and the intensity of his glare had erased his earlier happiness.

“Nothing is confirmed yet, but we have quite a lot of accounts from the people surrounding the forest.” Ivan replied.

The Darkling made a sort of a grunting noise that Ivan didn’t know what to make of. The shadows covered the windows swiftly, engulfing the room in darkness as his left eye narrowed ever so slightly.

“The forest?”

Fedyor clears his throat, “Near the border.”

“Near the fold”, Ivan adds.

“I want”, he paused. Running his fingers through his hair, his shadows killed every source of outside light. “We need to prepare for a trip to the armies stationed at the fold.”

Nodding, Ivan looked to Fedyor and his deep-set frown.

“Are we to cross?” Fedyor asks.

The Darkling’s face is stone, his eyes unblinking. “Would it be a problem for you?”

Breath caught in his throat, Fedyor’s heart started to race. “No.”

“Good”, Kirigan remarked. “Prepare everything for departure in no more than a week.”

Sending them off, the Darkling sat in his chair. He wants so many things. His fingers graze his chin as he sighs – there would be no leaving without Y/N following. It’s not in her nature to do nothing and if she learns of the reasons behind his departure, he might lose her. The path of less resistance is to convince her the trip is to prove he’s honored his promise to her. He had sent the instructions yesterday and while she did force his hand on it, he didn’t hate her for it. If he’s bound for hell, at least it’s not a false one. She hates him, but she’s honest with him. He appreciated that.

Finding the Sun Summoner will change everything – for once, he will have a partner who can understand the weight of his past choices. He regrets too many things he’s done, but he was rarely given a choice. They broke the wrong parts of him, in the end, he showed them what happens when they laid a hand on those he cares for. That included Y/N now. If anything, she was a priority. Y/N is the only one he has left in this world.

While the Darkling pondered on the possibility of a Sun Summoner being true, Y/N sat in the library with a pile of books at each side.

The lingering effect of Aleksander’s gaze upon her and his devilish smirk had warmed her up in a way she least expected. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if time stopped or her heart did.

Shaking her head, she flipped the page in frustration. Her skin still burned bright from where he touched her. No amount of bathing can erase the fact she belonged to him now.

Swallowing thickly, she groaned. In all the books she had found, barely few had any information on the shadow summoner. Aside from Morozova creatures that serve as amplifiers, Y/N found mere mentions of a black heretic and the creation of the fold.

Her neck hurt, her eyes felt like they’re being pierced with needles and there was no saving her mind from all the theories she concocted. Leaning back in her chair, she huffed. Rubbing her eyes, she slammed the book closed before standing in frustration.

She didn’t want to love Aleksander, to risk her heart and life. She didn’t want to lay in bed, always afraid of what he might do if one day she’s not careful enough and he learns the truth. Naively, she hoped he’d either stand with her or just walk away but that’s not the Kirigan she knows. He wouldn’t forgive, it’s not in his nature.

Placing the books where she can find them in the morning, she headed to her room. Genya was kind enough to send a servant with lunch, but Y/N missed dinner entirely. Engrossed in books all day, she hardly felt any hunger.

At least not the kind of hunger food could satisfy.

Walking into the room, she hadn’t expected to find Aleksander sat at the bottom of their bed….shirtless.

Standing, he narrowed his eyes at her. “You weren’t at dinner.”

She raised a brow, “Wasn’t hungry.”

Kirigan crossed his arms over his bare chest, the movement making the muscles in his stomach flicker.

“Get dressed”, she quipped.

He smiled, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a mirror in every corner of this Palace, since you love yourself so much.”

He laughed wholeheartedly as she just turned away, clamping a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t let herself laugh with him. Every moment like this feels like the world is spinning, making her resolution fragile. She’s aching to let him in, but it would be a mistake. She feels it in his bones, he’s not honest with her.

Caring for a man like him is dangerous, like standing in the eye of a hurricane.

“We’ll leave Little Palace in a week”, Aleksander speaks, “Just as you asked of me.”

She stares at him, disbelief and joy colliding. And it’s the look in his eyes, the hopeful, terrified look in those dark skies that disarms her.

“Why do I feel like there’s a catch?”

Running the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, Aleksander takes a step closer. “You’ll ride with me.”

Pursing her lips, she nods without ever breaking eye contact. “And?”

A breathless chuckle passes his lips, “You’ll have to wear a special kefta. One that won’t let you get hurt easily.”

Taking a deep breath, she tilts her head up, “And?”

Suppressing a smile, he raises an eyebrow. “You’ll be equipped with a weapon of choice. I believe you’re more than familiar with guns as a soldier of the First army.”

Raising both eyebrows in response, she takes a step closer to him. “Swords”, she notes.

Humming, his eyes widen ever so slightly as he waits for her to continue.

“I prefer swords”, she touched his face gently with the back of her hand.

“Of course”, he breathes out. A soft smile spreads across his lips, “Draw your swords if you see an enemy in sight.”

“Even if it’s my husband?” Her lips remain parted, her eyes flickering to his chest where she raised her hand to.

“I don’t care, as long as you keep yourself safe.”

She held her breath as his words resonated with her mind. How can he be so callous one day and then offer up his life for her to take. No game had ever made her question every single word that left someone’s lips before. Sometimes she’d look at him and see through the mask he shows the world and other times she couldn’t see anything other than her own reflection in his eyes as if his soul didn’t exist at all.

“Since when do you care?” She frowns, gnawing on the inside of her cheek.

Letting out a heavy sigh, his eyes flicker to the hand she splayed against his bare chest. Just the simple touch of her hand made him want more. It was becoming too hard to pretend he hates her. What he truly hates is how human she is – what is he supposed to do when her hair turns grey and he’s still young? How will he survive when someone takes her to exact vengeance against him? Will he be too late to save her then?

When your world comes to a stop and the value of life is amplified by those dead before their time in gruesome ways, it feels like an earthquake shakes the very foundations life is built on. But when the walls start falling, past and future no longer exist, only the moment you’re in and the first person that comes to mind when those walls are gone is what your life is all about. For Aleksander, that person is Y/N.

Looking into her eyes, his hands cup her face, “Since I had to spend five days believing you’re dead.”

He wanted to wrap Y/N in his arms and tell her he would never let her walk away, not after he had a taste of what it means to be with her. He wanted to tell her his love is unconditional and that his soul is hers, even if she didn’t want to give him hers. He would wait, as patiently and as stubbornly as he did by now and that she will never lose him because even if he wished, he can’t scrub his heart clean of her. And he never wanted to.

“I thought you’d protect me?” She raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

She had become his heart, his reason to live. She lit a fire within, something he had lost over time and while she’s completely unaware of it, if the world tried to take her from him, the Darkling would wage war to make sure she remains by his side.

Blinking slow, a faint smile upon his lips, the Darkling tilts his head slightly to the left. “Would you allow it?”

There is nothing in the world he wanted more than to kiss her again, but this time around Aleksander decided to let her make the move. She is tender, but fierce. To understand a woman like her, one must realize that the former is who she is and the latter is what life demanded of her.

“Not likely”, she remarks and he throws his head back, chuckling.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she wets her lips in thought and he can’t help but think this is a well-designed trap for him to say the wrong thing and for her to use it as excuse to put distance between them rather than face her own desires and he was almost certain those desires included him.

“You want me”, he whispers in her ear as his fingertips slide up her spine and to the back of her neck, “And it’s killing you.”

“Physical attraction means nothing”, her voice is low, but unwavering.

Aleksander bites the inside of his lower lip in anticipation of her pushing him away and storming off, but even as he waits, he feels her hips press closer to him as if she’s telling him he won’t be left alone. Not again.

“Yet you’re here”, he grins. Tucking her hair behind her left ear, he admired how firm she stands in her opposition.

“So are you”, she quipped,. 

A cocky smile appears on his lips, tiny wrinkles forming around his dark eyes as he holds her gaze bravely, unwavering even when her gaze becomes a glare.

Biting her lower lip, contemplating the right move, Y/N could hardly fight her desire for him. Her head knew he it would be unwise, but her heart screamed at her to kiss him and those butterflies in her stomach felt more like killer bees as the need to feel him inside her had taken over every rational thought she generated.

One hand caressing his lean cheek, she gave into her primal instincts as she slammed her lips against his and Aleksander’s own heart leapt inside his chest. 

Their need for each other was urgent. Y/N grabbed a handful of flesh and muscle on Aleksander’s back. He gasped and laughed throatily at her haste. When her hands clawed at him again, he grasped both hands in one of his and held them over her head. She struggled to free herself, but he was too strong. When he entered her, she gasped, then moved her hips up to meet his.

He released her hands and she pulled him closer and closer to her. They made love quickly, almost harshly, before they found the sweet release they longed for. Aleksander collapsed on top of her, their bodies still joined as one when their minds gave in, slowly drifting to sleep.

Just like the previous morning, he remained in the bed, his arms wrapped around her tightly. 

She barely saw him during the day as the week progressed, but their nights were spent together – entangled mess of limbs, desperate moans and needy pleas neither held back. She’d close her eyes in his embrace and begin her day the same way.

“You don’t have much time”, Genya warned as Y/N dressed in haste. She decided to dress for the trip, it was the only way she could fit in a few hours in the library.

“I won’t be long”, she smiled at her friend.

Licking her lips, Genya took her by the hand. “What is it that you’re looking for?”

Y/N clenched her teeth, wondering if she should tell Genya. Something inside her warned against it – she didn’t tell anyone his name is Aleksander, feeling privileged to know such information. If she’s wrong and she can trust him, she didn’t want to poison anyone else with her doubt beforehand. A single book remained unread on her pile of very thick books she went through.

“Just trying to learn”, Y/N shrugged.

Nodding, Genya smiles, “In case we don’t see each other before you leave, I have to implore you to reconsider David as an ally.”

“I will”, Y/N promised and she would. Someone in Aleksander’s inner circle could be of use to her.

Going through the pages, she felt exhausted. Spending all her time in ancient books didn’t seem to be of use, but for once the text made sense. It spoke of the black heretic and the many names he’s been called in history.

“He walks the earth with a power only the saints could possess. They call him The Black Heretic, The Shadow King, The Starless Saint, Staski, Eryk, Leonid – numerous names that he exchanged for each lifetime he was given and by now it must be at least a few hundred lifetimes of darkness. His name – true name was lost throughout the centuries, occasionally heard as a whisper carried in the wind.”

Wide eyed, she read through the text of a scholar who described the Black Heretic and his powers, his entire lineage being his mother who remained unnamed and…him.

“He has no descendants?” Y/N’s lips quiver. If he has no descendants and his line begins and ends with him, how would Aleksander even exist?

Unless…

No.

It would be impossible, would it not?

“Numerous names that he exchanged for each lifetime he was given”, she reads aloud only to cover her own mouth in face of a startling epiphany. It was as she noticed the dark connection between the great mystery, the horrific realization set in.

“Pardon me, miss, but General Kirigan has sent for you”, a servant frightened her.

Taking the book in haste, Y/N stood on her shaky legs. Mouth dry, she pressed her lips in a thin line.

“Thank you”, she walked out so quickly, barely containing her quick and shallow breaths. Sweating profusely, she felt as if the black kefta she wore weighed down on her like battle armor.

Was it not her armor? Was this not a constant war she’s struggled with?

Aleksander…Kirigan…The Darkling…who is he?

“Are you ready?” Aleksander is waiting by the door with a small smile on his lips. His hand is opened for her to take, but she ignores it. If she took his hand, he’d feel the shakiness she’s trying so hard to steady.

Mounting his black stallion, she tucked the book safely inside her inner pocket.

“I’ll take the reins”, she informed him as he took his place behind her.

She heard him scoff, “I’m the general.” 

Is Aleksander even his real name?

Are the stories about him true? 

“On this side of the fold, so am I”, she gripped the reins and the stallion obeyed.

Riding a horse always helped her clear her mind, but this time it seemed impossible. 

When she married Kirigan, she believed she would marry an old, unattractive man…As it turns out, she got the old part right.

=============================

A/N - I’m not quite happy with this chapter, but I wanted to post today to keep my streak going. Also, i suck at writing a summary, like WHY IS THAT?! xD It’s Eid, so I’m tired and sleepy, forgive my grammar and prepare for things to heat up in the next chapters. Thank you all for sticking with the story and all the feedback, it honestly gives me life and will to keep writing. I also finally found the books in my native tongue, at least the Grisha trilogy and Six of crows duology and I’m really excited to dive into it and further my understanding of Darkling as a brilliantly written villain that is a multi-dimensional being with, let’s be honest, actually good points. I may not be happy about his willingness to commit mass murder, but I kinda see where he’s coming from and I really can’t wait to know more about the situation as it is in the books.  

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon  @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06  @whatthefluffrichard @aami98 @britriestbr @itsfangirlmendes @padme-parker @readingsssssssss @runawayolives @thehighladyofasgard @emlynblack @keithseabrook27 @dailydoseofchoices @deceivedeer @olympiacosplay @pansysgirlfriend @extrakyloren  @daybleedsintonightfa11 @thoughts-and-funnies @weirdowithnobeardo @folkloresworld​

PART 10

KH: The Foreteller’s Animal Masks

This is half fun facts / half theory but basically it’s a list of which Sins/Foretellers are associated with which animals AND where the inspirations for the animal associations came from, since there’s actually a few different sources!

The first would be the Ancrene Wisse, which was a sort of field guidebook for Anchoresses (Female Abbesses/Monks/Nuns basically) containing rules of conduct and behavior 

https://www.hermitary.com/articles/ancrene.html

This goes into many things that honestly have cool thematic ties with symbolism for stuff in Kingdom Hearts, which I could honestly make a whole post in it’s own for tbh, but for here were focusing on one passage:

“The wilderness is the solitary life of the anchoress's dwelling, for just as in the wilderness there are all the wild beasts, and they will not endure men coming near but flee when they hear them, so should anchorites, above all other women, be wild in this way, and then they will be desirable, above other women, to Our Lord. 

In this wilderness are many evil beasts: the lion of pride, the snake of poisonous envy, the unicorn of anger, the bear of dead sloth, the fox of covetousness, the sow of gluttony, the scorpion with the tail of stinging lechery, that is, lust.”

So, we start out with a nice base for some of the Sin/Foretellers:

Ira - Wrath - Unicorn - Unicornis

Avaritia - Greed - Fox - Vulpes

Acedia - Sloth - Bear - Ursus

Invidia - Envy - Snake - Anguis

but then wait, here Gula/Gluttony is a Sow, a Pig, but in KH it’s a Leopard

As well as recently in KH, they’ve made it clear that Luxu/Luxuria is a Goat, not a Scorpion (As cool as a Scorpion would have been for Luxu’s emblem, but a bit too on the nose I suppose haha)

Well, interestingly enough, did you know that back when the 7 deadly sins was actually more like the 8 Evil Things once? And that they were also grouped into a Trio of their own? 

(Despair as Tristitia being the 8th one, because it’s essentially the sin of falling to sorrow/sadness or giving up, of blinding yourself to other’s troubles and causing sorrow in return or being too sorrowful to act, later it was folded into Sloth as a lack of diligence) 

But the 3 Major sin groupings was essentially the three Reasons that people would sin the deadly sins

Incontinence: Doing wrong because they couldn't help it. Or sinning from a lack of moderation or self-control.

Violence: Doing wrong because of anger, revenge or retaliation. Or sinning from by trying to force your will externally

Fraud/Corruption: Doing wrong on purpose in order to hurt other's. Or sinning from betrayal, lies and manipulation. 

These three things form a sort of Unholy Trinity in opposition with the Divine trinity of Father-Son-Holy Spirit

And, very famously, Dante’s Inferno links these three groupings to three creatures from a famous bible verse describing the destruction of humanity via it's own nature:

Jeremiah 5:6 - “Therefore a lion from the forest shall slay them, and a wolf from the desert shall destroy them. A leopard is watching against their cities, every one who goes out of them shall be torn in pieces because their transgressions are many, their apostasies are great.”

A Lion, A Leopard and A Wolf.

Now based on Dante’s actual writing which grouping with which animal and which sins is often debated, but usually it’s roughly as follows:

Leopard of Incontinence: Gluttony, Greed, Luxuria (from Immoderation, Extravagance, Wastefulness)

Lion of Violence: Wrath, Pride (from Murder, Suicide, Squandering, Blasphemy)

Wolf of Fraud/Corruption: Envy, Sloth, Sorrow/Despair (Tristitia) (from Corruption, Thievery, Falsifier, Betrayal) (yeah... old timey people did indeed view what was essentially depression as a “willful” sin aka something people did on purpose to hurt themselves, like they drown in their sorrows willingly because of a refusal to heal themselves or as a willing corruption of their soul, nowadays if it existed would definitely be thought of a Leopard sin I’d think)

So here it’s very easy to see where Leopardos and Gula get tied together, because in KH the sin of Gluttony is lifted above the other’s in the group, which makes sense because being gluttonous for money is greed, being gluttonous for luxuries was Luxuria (or sex for lust)

And here also, the Sin of Pride/Superbia is again associated with the Lion as it is in the Ancrene Wisse (though it’s also associated with Wrath strongly as well, so no wonder MoM chose Ira to be the next leader after he was gone)

So in all likelihood, this means that the symbol of the Master of Masters is most likely a Lion of Pride, Superbia (and if he had his own union, it might be something like Leo or Panthera) 

But honestly the biggest thing that definitely makes MoM the Lion of Pride is the passage in the Ancrene Wisse that elaborates upon the Lion of Pride, describing it as having “many cubs”:

“But the author continues the animal analogies, enumerating a classification of the sins. "The lion of pride has very many cubs," he states, and enumerates them: vainglory, indignation, hypocrisy, presumption, disobedience, loquacity, blasphemy, impatience, contumacy, contention, "airs and graces." “

Reminds me of both MoM’s many apprentices or Master Xehanort’s collection in the organization

Though the REAL reason is also because did you know when KH was still being thought of and designed, Nomura actually wanted to make Sora a Half-Lion Chainsaw Wielder and we all know Sora is secretly the MoM right lol

But anyway, that explains Gula being a Leopard

So then where did all this talk of Luxu being a Goat come from?

Well one reason could be that later on as the deadly sins got solidified as just the seven of them, and as their meanings changed from umbrella terms to more specific sins, their animal interpretations also started to differ:

Avarice/Greed = Toad/Frog 

Invidia/Envy = Snake

Ira/Wrath = Lion

Acedia/Sloth = Snail

Gula/Gluttony = Pig

Luxuria/Lust = Goat

Superbia/Pride = Peacock

Also Ira with a Lion mask would be cool but can you imagine a Snail Aced or a Froggy Ava? lol

But it IS Cool to think that these “Modernized” animals could then become the emblems of the Union Leaders that inherited Ava’s legacy, since they are the newer versions of those Unions, obviously there’s no one to Inherit MoM’s legacy

But you could easily think of Ventus as the “Traitor” aka the scapeGoated 6th for the new group, leaving Frogs, Snakes, Lions, Snails and Pigs for the other five 

(I wonder who I’d put with who... Ephemer, Skuld, Lauriam, Strelitzia and Brain... the only sin associated with Death would be Wrath (As Suicide) and the “Ira” position appears to be the one who inherits the leader, and it’s theorized Strelitzia was the circled name supposed to get the Book of Prophecies

So Strelitzia = Lion/Wrath

Ephemer and Ava always seemed to be the closest and he was the one who seemed to inherit her Legacy the most so he can get Frogs/Greed

Brain is similar to Gula in how they calmly investigate issues and try to uncover the truth and got extra information than the others, so Pigs/Gluttony for him

Lauriam was the poster boy for temptation into darkness, which is what Darkness was intended when his sister Strelitzia was killed, for him to be the first to fall to rage and grief, nice Aced parallel as the one everyone suspected of falling to darkness first so he gets Snails/Sloth, fitting for the flower elemental lol

and that leave Skuld and Invi which also makes sense as the parallel for the person who tries to intervene in conflicts and mediate for the group, so Skuld gets Snake/Envy

Neat!

But anyway back to Luxu, I think Luxu is represented by the Goat not just because of the above modern listings, but also because of the special place of evil that Christian religions tend to place on Goat itself

If the Lamb is the most common symbol of Jesus Christ, the Goat has always been a symbol of the Evil of Lucifer. Sheep and Goats, despite being so similar, have always been seen as this symbolic duo. Sheep and Lambs being submissive, complacent, docile, while Goats are crazy, willful, destructive and etc likely because since they are so close in nature, they are basically seen as the Good and Evil version of the same animal, a Goat is essentially a heretical false Lamb

They are very commonly associated with the Devil/Lucifer himself and goats have always gotten the short end of stick, all the way back to the old tradition of using goats as well, scape-goats literally. The practice of singling out a particular creature or person and placing all the sin and blame onto it, and then driving it away

Luxu is singled out from the group, likely given the role of “Traitor” amongst the six of them and then is forced into essentially exile to the future by MoM where he can do nothing but watch and wait, never able to interfere or meddle with anything

And this reasoning of the Goat fits Luxu above all others.

So there we have it, finally at the end:

Ira/Wrath - Unicorn/Unicornis

Avaritia/Greed - Fox/Vulpes

Acedia/Sloth - Bear/Ursus

Invidia/Envy - Snake/Anguis

Gula/Gluttony - Leopard/Leopardus

and if Luxu and MoM had union names, (which seem to be just be taken from the genus of the animal directly) they’d likely be:

Luxuria/Lust - Goat/Caprini

Superbia/Pride - Lion/Panthera

But I think the Most Interesting Thing to glean from all of this, is going back to the 3 Groupings for the 8 evil things, can you imagine if KH ever decides to give MoM a little backstory, and a figure based on the Wolf of Fraud/Corruption, emblem of Despair came into the picture somewhere?

Something that might look a little like this?

Hey that’s interesting, isn’t this the special secret boss Dark Hide from Aqua’s Fragmentary Passage? Y’know, that journey all about Aqua falling into the pits of Despair where she then ends up fighting The First Real Pureblood Heartless she ever faces in the Realm of Darkness? Something that Aqua felt was Willfully and Intentionally Stalking her through the depths, instead of mindlessly attacking her?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQGONhqs0mU

Isn’t that interesting how all of things, they give this boss the opportunity for the player to see through it’s eyes, something very unique, and how it initially appears as a formless Darkness

And isn’t Darkness itself, given a will and a personality, now a figure in KHUX Dark Road, that has specific ties to the MoM, as Luxu describes as being a fellow student and/or old friend of MoM?

Could the Will of Despair manifested from darkness come to be a secret 8th apprentice of MoM?

Who knows, but it’s interesting how that symbolism lines up isn’t it?

The Funeral

[ FFxivWrite2021 Prompt 29: Debonair ]

[ Content Warnings: passive suicidal ideation; death and blood mentions ]

[ Just want to note here... that this started as one thing and ended as another and don’t have the energy to change it because it ended up being so long lol I wanted to try something different, but then it went *way* different, so. Uh. Here you go! 😂 official video not posted due to the fact that it was flashing enough to bother me, so it might bother someone else. ]

==

“He’s a strange one, that’s for sure. Have you seen him ever show an onze of emotion?” “He may be the eldest, but do they really think he’d be the best heir?” “He’d run the family into the ground, if given the chance.”

He could hear them through the walls, the jabs at his character. How dare they? Was he not the perfection the rest of the noble community sought? Or was it his perfection that made them think as such? His ears twitched. Someone was coming, and by the weight of the footsteps…

“Cedre, Mother wishes to speak with you.” Sylvain gripped at the hem of his shirt - nervous. All of his siblings were intimidated by him. All of the people he would call his friends did the same. Cedrenaux stood from the bench he sat on, waiting for his parents to call him in. This gathering was supposed to be one of levity, other houses joining them for a single night of enjoyment. It was always too bright in here. The bright blues, the bright reds, the bright violets and whites and lights. Dear gods, the lights. He spoke no words to his brother, passing by him in some furied silence. Or, what Sylvain would think as he passed by.

“Cedrenaux, dear! Look at you, dressed to the nines~.” His aunt was the first to applaud him - for what, exactly? He never knew. All of them praised him for some unholy reason. “Well, it is only proper for him to be dressed so.” His mother was a walking contradiction. Doting, and yet, not so easily impressed. She brushed some of his stray hairs down, the wavy near-curls springing up to their own liking. Despite the fact that he was old enough to do so himself, old enough to speak for himself, he did not. “I want you to meet this lovely girl,” She turned him towards a beautiful woman, slightly older than him; fair skin, chestnut hair, what wondrous green eyes. “This is Cassandra Babineaux, under House Dzemael. Cassandra, this is my eldest son--” “Cedrenaux. A pleasure.” His voice was dry, it said anything but. He offered her a formal bow. “You two are to spend much time together, in fact, why don’t you get to know each other a bit more now?”

==

“Cassandra is to be your bride, Cedrenaux, you must compose yourself well.” “Yes, Mother.” He stood still as his mother fussed over his appearance, brushing lint from his shoulders, straightening his jacket. While it was infuriating to be coddled like a child, he let her do her thing, letting out a short sigh when she stepped away. “While this marriage is arranged, you two have gotten along so well - we thought it best that you would propose to her in a traditional fashion as well. I am certain it would mean a lot to her.” “Yes, Mother.”

He couldn’t stand her. There was always something off about the woman. To be married to her was going to be a long road, one that would likely never end - not until he was at the end of his days. The temptation was there - death would be far preferable, but he knew that his family needed this. After the accurate accusation of his grandmother as a heretic by the Dzemaels - his mother’s mother, worse off - they needed to make amends to the House. To prove that just one was enough. Once his mother left him, he took himself to the closest mirror. His hair was tied up in a bundle of wavy curls, not quite untamed, though no less annoying. He pulled the band from it, letting it fall loose; using his fingers to comb it out. Princely, straight from a faerie tale - that’s what Cassandra had called it. Disgusting.

“Cedrenaux?” A soft voice peered through the door, nervous and shaking. “Isabelle, is something amiss?” “N-No, not… not really. You look upset.” “...I am.” “Is it the marriage?” “...” He nodded slowly as he strode to the door, opening it fully for his youngest sister. She was easy to talk to, she had no room to judge anyone else, nor did she have a habit of doing so. “It’ll… be okay, I think.” Cedrenaux shook his head. “No, it will not. I do not like her in the slightest.” “But you got along so well…” “Because I was forced to… I do not want to marry, and especially not her.” “Why is that?” “Aside from a bad feeling…? I… I cannot say.” He muttered to himself, eyes to the floor, a crack in his usual expression. “...I simply do not like any aspect of her.” “Have you found another lady that caught your fancy?” “....” How was he supposed to answer that? He opted for another shake of his head. “No. I have had no interest in any of them. I have been putting my focus into my studies.” “I see.” She needed no other words to explain, she only smiled. “It’ll be okay. I can feel it. In the end, it’ll be okay.”

==

“I… am at a loss for words.” “Cedre, dear, please, I didn’t mean--” “Did not mean…? For what? To take on another man, force him into marriage? We have two children, Cassandra - that something like this happened is beyond me.” “You’re not… leaving, are you?” “Your kind are not wont to change.” “B-But.. the kids-” “Are in your capable hands. Perhaps you will no longer find your eyes wandering when you are pressured to do the job I have been doing whilst you were galavanting about with another man. The poor sod better be thankful he got away when he could.” “...Not without stealing the better half of our funds…” “Of your funds. Good riddance too.” “Cedre y-you sound so…” “Pleased? Gods be, I am. I had been looking for years for a way to get you far from me.”

Those words were heartbreaking to anyone who would hear them - and a relief to the one who said them. Cedrenaux finally felt a weight off of his shoulders. Such a relief to breathe out. “Since we are on that topic, I had never liked you to begin with - we were only together thanks to our parents.” “L-Love, I--” “Do not address me as such, lumping me in with the Brume rabble you called your lover. Of course, I side with him - the abuse you have fed both of us.” “You would punish our children over this?!” The shock wore off, it turned to anger. “Hm? I am sorry, did you say “our”? No, no. They are your children now. You can disclude me from the picture. Of course, I did already speak to them. They are old enough to understand how rotten you are, and thankfully, old enough to know how to ruin the rest of your days. Of course, in the end, you will have wonderful heirs to your house and name. Seeing as I taught them as such.”

“What would your mother say once you came home? She’d be disappointed, angry. She’d make you come back.” “Oh, do not worry. Your backstabbing name will be littered upon the ears of others, I am certain my mother will be just fine with it.”

==

“Please, wait! Wait, I have evidence!” Cedrenaux tried to push his way past the Templars which guarded the Vault. Guarded the trial - the trial against his parents. He held above him the papers, the ones that showed their innocence. “They are not guilty, you must hear me!”

“Lord Voilinaut.” One of the clergy approached him - a tone that made his heart sink. She took the papers from him, a slight twitch of shock. “I apologize, my lord, but you are too late. Their sentence was held a quarter of a bell ago. These papers, however -...” She shook her head. “This would not be enough, though I will see to it that these are filed properly so that no future mistakes will happen.”

“Y-You… admit… it was… a mistake?” He could feel it, it boiled under him, made his skin itch. He bared his teeth in a scowl, words sharp with his shouts. “You would murder for your own sakes?! They were not guilty! If I could find the evidence, why could you not have?!” The Templars struggled to keep the young lord from attacking the clergywoman, having to catch him by his collar and arms. “I apologize, my lord. I do not oversee the investigations, but I shall apprise them of the situation so that no others will have to face an injustice like this.” Cedrenaux managed to settle himself, composing with a sigh. “...Very well… so long as it does not happen again. You will regret the next time it does.”

He could hear the papers burning in the room she had left to.

==

“I apologize for the inconvenience, sir. If I could ask a favor of you…” An Elezen, far taller than he - though who would not be? Even the hyurs in the city were taller than him. Dressed in nobles’ clothes, light hair, fair eyes. “And you are?” “Tristan.” “...Tristan.” “My… full name is rather long, and this moniker suits me well.” “I see, and what can I do for you?” “...It…” Tristen looked about for any passerbys. “Perhaps we could sit over here, it… concerns a rather personal matter.” He gestured to the gazebo of the Voilinaut’s estate. Cedrenaux nodded, leading in taking a seat.

“I… have heard many things. I would clarify if they are true or not, and if they are… perhaps you could listen to my plight. I have heard that upon your divorce with Cassandra, your parents were tried for heresy.” “...That is true. You know of Cassandra?” “I know that she is behind it - ah… I know… from personal experience, as she has done the same with my family. They are currently in a gaol awaiting their sentence.” “How do you know?” “...She screamed at me as such when I pushed myself from her.” “You were…?” “Also married, yes. At the time you were.” “You certainly do not look the part of the man I had found her with. Do you mean to say she was doing as such with three individuals?” “I am, yes.”

Cedrenaux folded his arms over his chest, inhaling sharply. He closed his eyes to think, ears twitching to the sounds of other gossip from down the road. “...And what favor would you ask of me.” “That I may remain in your estate as a guest, until I am given my home back after the investigation. I am without one, currently.” “....” He wasn’t keen on sharing his home with strangers, especially since they were in the process of moving furniture out; sorting through paperwork and memories. How could he not lend aid to another who has shared this pain - who will share this pain. He knew that Tristan would not see his family again. Cedrenaux nodded slowly, bringing a bright smile to Tristan’s face. “I thank you, sir,” “Cedrenaux.” “I thank you, Cedrenaux. For your kindness.” He shook his head. “...Do not worry of it. My family will see to it that you will have a place to stay. Do excuse the mess.”

==

With a heavy thud, Tristan had his back trapped against the wall. Such brashness was rewarded with the second heavy emotion he had shown - first anger, now… Cedrenaux sputtered under his words, some semblance of fear on his face as his fingers clutched into the hem of his own shirt. Tristan let out a bright laugh, that perfectly playful smile. He was so forward, how could anyone act without shame - or at least thought to their actions. Or, perhaps he did think it over and--

“You’re so adorable like this!” Tristan pushed off the wall to let Cedrenaux have some breathing room. “L-Like what? What do you mean?” Despite the blatant display of emotion, and the catch of his teeth on his lips, his voice still stayed dry and even. “C’mon, I know you’re not that much of an idiot.” Silence. There was no response - he definitely was not that much of an idiot, still--

“Why?” “Why not?” He was nudged with an elbow. “The moons I’ve stayed here, you have shown nothing but care and kindness to your family - and myself. Of course, not everyone would call it that, but… you really are adorable.” Tristan leaned forward to pinch his cheek. His smile faded as he lowered his voice. “You have a lot of qualities about you that no one else does, something the rest of Ishgard needs. You exude safety, protection, you’re diligent - strong.” His smile came back with something softer. “They don’t see it, but I do.”

“...” Cedrenaux looked down to the floor - he was tense from the surprise, but it was relief that came from his breath. “Thank you.” It took a bit, a little moment, but he smiled. Nothing as bright as the man’s in front of him, but it existed. He took a careful step forward, hesitant, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing… but he wrapped his arms around him, tucking his head into Tristan’s chest. “....” He smelled of Starlight - he wouldn’t forget that. Pine and cinnamon, a fresh fire, winter air. It was… it was comforting. It reminded him of the times he could truly be a child with no worry of others’ thoughts. “...Thank you…” His voice was soft now, afraid to speak aloud. Gods, if his siblings saw him.

Even Tristan was surprised by the forward action on Cedrenaux’s part, but he wrapped his arms around him, holding him close as he placed his head atop his. “Just one night?” “...Just one.”

==

One night turned to moons - moons of a fleeting emotion.

“Is Lord Tristanaireux in? We received word that he would be staying with your house.”

Several Templars were at their door. Cedrenaux knew exactly what that meant. “The investigation is over then? Should he return home?” “...He is, yes.” Their hesitation said otherwise. He saw that too. “Is that right, then? I will escort him then, to make sure he arrives safely.” “There is no need for that, we will-” “I do not trust you. After the last time, I refuse to.” “My lord, we have found relics of heresy amongst his belongings. He needs to be turned in--” “You would lie to me, on my estate?” Cedrenaux’s voice got low, deep, something dark.

“A-Apologies, m-my lord…” “Leave. Come back when you have hard evidence that it is his, and that it was not planted by you nor anyone else.” “Sir, you will be tried, too, if--” “Learn your battles, boy.” The Templars at his door were armed, and yet they made no moves against him. As if they truly were afraid of just him alone.

“Lord Cedrenaux, is aught amiss?” Another lord from the Dzemael house, when would they leave him alone? “No, in fact, these kind gentlemen were here to let me know that my friend is allowed to return home. ...Yes?” His glare pierced them. He made these fools stand straight, near threatened into admitting so. “Is that so? I had heard just the opposite. Are you housing a heretic, Lord Cedrenaux?” “On baseless accusation. Show me the evidence, and I will turn him over.” “The Vault is already in the possession of the evidence, s-sir…” The Templars spoke up again. “Then tell them to show me.”

His continuance on their argument was cut short, with Tristan looming over his shoulder. “What’s going on now?” “Back inside, now.” The sound of his voice turned to urgency, he was thankful Tristan understood - the man took a hefty step back, just before the sharp cry. “Grab the heretic, now!” Without so much as a second thought, the Templars trampled over Cedrenaux to seize Tristan from the hallway - dragging him out to the streets as he kicked. “Let go! I know naught of what you speak!”

As Cedrenaux found the strength to pick himself up off the floor, his eyes turned to the door - to the road - to the people across from his home - to the smile of the woman standing there. Her.. this was her fault. “Tristan!” His boots skid along the stone as he broke into a sprint. “Cedre!” The sound of his name was cut with a cry and grunt, a chained elbow smashed into his face - thrown into the ring in which the trial was being held. “Stop! I beg of you, please think before you act!”

It felt like the trial held for his parents, another mistake - another intentional mistake.

“The evidence was planted, my lords!” “By who.” They spoke to him, they addressed him. Gods be, he had a chance. “Cassandra Babineaux. She admitted to accusing not only his family, but mine as well, of baseless heresy. I had word that investigations would be thorough.” “What motives would she have to do this?” “We are both her ex-husbands, having committed adultery against us both - she seeks revenge for our leaving.” “Have the guard fetch this woman then.”

He could hear it, the sigh of relief from his love.

==

“I do not know what you speak, my lord! Why would I take the risk of being accused, myself? If I had planted it, I would have had the evidence on me at some point!” “Anything for revenge… first my grandmother, then my parents, now this…”

She lied through her teeth, she lied, and they both knew.

“Lord Cedrenaux, why would you accuse this woman of--” “Why would you believe her words over mine? Do you think me a liar, my lord? I have stood by and watched countless of my family die at your hands on false accusations - the truths brought to light, and still, you would do this?” “Why would you accuse me? I have found my love, I do not need yours nor his!” “Be- Because… I saw that look on your face, when I was on my way here, that smile of yours.” “Can I not greet you on the street?” “...” His jaw clenched. “Not when you just witnessed this man being dragged off.”

“Lord Voilinaut.” “Check her home, then, if you dare will! There’s plenty more evidence to plant, isn’t there?! One at a time, you will pick off those I love… who next, then? Sylvain? Valera? Isabelle?” He saw the corner of her mouth twitch at the mention of his youngest sister, that little detail. “Snake, impudent hag - you would harm such an innocent girl for your petty spite against me?!” Everything in his body could not stop him from lashing out, jumping on her in an instant - he only landed a single blow to her face before the Templars snatched him away from her.

“Calm yourself this instant!” The loud thud of a hand against the table snapped him from his rage. “You would conduct yourself in this manner, Lord Cedrenaux? Your accusation of your ex-wife is paranoia, that she is out to get you - she has clearly moved on. We will consider your evidence null.” “N-No, please! Do not harm him! He is innocent!” It was the first time he had ever cried, even as a baby; he screamed, but never shed a tear - he choked on his sobs. “Please…” He would resort to begging if it made it so, he sunk to his knees - he did not expect to hear the scream so close to his ears, so loud, it took up the room. He heard nothing else. The thump of the body on the floor, the spill of blood. The tile was stained with it.

Even as the room cleared, he did not move - he could not move. He cried, coughed, sobbed, screamed and yelled and begged what gods there were to make it stop.

In the end, all he could do was make certain that his family was safe.

Do you think that the hellfire club is a D&D group or some sport team or what do you think it is? (BTW big fan of your theories)

I think it’s a d&d club. I talked about it in past posts.I think being about d&d makes sense since the game would foreshadow future plot points- like it did in prior seasons . And the “hellfire club” is even an X-men group relating to the dark Phoenix which was referenced in s1 by Will . And I think they’ll take inspiration from that comic book arc for future seasons too . (So it’s an eastergg) . But, also , being called “the hellfire club” is probably an inside joke with the club members- since in the 80s, adults claimed d&d was about devil worship.)

In Bts photos- one of the members has a ‘Wasp’ pin which is a heavy metal band formed in 1982 -so the club is not so shockingly confirmed to be into rock.Along with d&d (if the leaks are legit) . Makes sense since both things are part of counter culture that was demonized by the “satanic panic” in the 80s. In the 80s. D&d (similar to rock music) was believed to be satanic - so the club name (for the club members)is a joke making fun of these people who think that’s true . But also (as a show is) another dark Phoenix ref . One of the s4 movies ‘paradise lost’  (was about a real life case) of small town teens   who were into punk music, horror movies, stephen king, wore black,  into wicca, and accused of being gay. They were unfairly blamed for ‘ satanic child m**ders (in the woods & near a river). They weren’t guilty . But, because ‘satanic panic’ was still alive and well ...the town’s people used their hobbies/ punk look/ and perceived sexualities as ‘proof” they were guilty. The case was later described as a ‘witch hunt’. Meanwhile the other (more likely suspect) at the time was John “Mark” Byers- who was a hunter, had a thing for hunting knives, religious, admitted to hitting his kids, and was  accused of s**ually abusing his son, shot pumpkins (s2 ref), and sang a song about creating a portal to another world without light , that you could enter via a tree (s1 ref). Years later-after the doc- it’s implied he wasn’t guilty either. But, one of the other victims’ fathers - Terry was assumed to be guilty - he was also was accused of m***esting his son and daughter (by his own family members). Admitted to hitting his wife and kids. And had a police report filed on him - describing breaking into a women’s house , while she was in a tub and trying to attack her. He was also formerly charged for m*rdering one of his wife’s family members- but got away with it claiming self defense). Heck if the names John byers/Terry being in the film/st wasn’t crazy enough- the victims were named Steve, Michael, and Chris byers (luckily ours don’t have that same horrible fate/back stories).

I kind of assume - the d&d club will be looked at suspiciously as teens go missing/ kidnapped/ or maybe found k*lled in the woods/quarry. And the cops/others think they’re “satanic k*llings” and rumors about the d&d club insue. And maybe our teens suspect it’s the demogorgan again. But as a subversion- it isn’t and it’s a human . A human that by ab*sing Will- caused Will to unconsciously create many things including the demogorgan (which in d&d is called the “deep father”) . Also, in s3 they called Will “the devil’s baby” (Aka lonnie is the real “devil” ).And such incidents in the woods/ near the quarry would connect back to s1 demogorgan & Will being found in the quarry. And if paying attention you already noticed s1 demogorgan paralleled Lonnie a lot! So s4 would start bringing things to the surface- in regards to how evil Lonnie really is.Not to mention more hints (I previously posted) that hinted they’ll go with this “ch*ld serial ki##er plot line...

But then again I think it may not be literally Lonnie. My guess: Brenner (who I think was created/based on lonnie) is possibly doing failed experiments of teens to open portals (in the basement of pethurst -like in hellraiser 2) . And dumping failed experiments in the woods/water. A few movies had the d*ad victims have numbers carved in them. And then El/kali team up and maybe sneak into the facility (like in ace Ventura people posing as siblings investigate a m*rder and one fakes being ‘crazy’ to sneak in and find a murderer) . In ‘peanut butter solution’ 2 kids - 1 of them is goth/not american teams up with a girl to find a man named ‘senior ‘who is kidnapping kids. 1 of them also sneaks in and is captured on purpose to investigate. Kali already busted Dottie out of a psych hospital and lucas referenced El being there in s1. Alexi (like el-another alter of Will) watches roadrunner- in that papa bear throws him in a psych facility. And assasains creed/dream warriors - the psychiatric facility was similar to the lab with sensory deprivation tanks, cameras, solitary confinement in dark rooms. We already know 1 new character is against the mistreatment of people at the facility. Also the real pethurst (in Pennsylvania) -known for human rights a*use issues- wasn’t a psych facility (but a place for people with intellectual disabilities). So El being at the psych hospital version in Indianna (and maybe having id herself like I mentioned before -would be a nice ref). And in assasains creed- when the character starts sneaking around investigating - the dr reveals how the character is actual the reincarnation of their ancestor ( brenner tells el she’s an alter of Will’s ). And before that the dr was making that person relive the traumatic past of their past life/other person -which they couldn’t change (sort of like el seeing Billy’s past in s3). Also kali said her and El should team up to face their father- which I think they’ll do. And I’m excited about it!

I still think brenner was created by Will and based on Lonnie so he could be responsible and connected to Will/Jon’s backstory with Lonnie/the Woods. In an abstract way. Like how brenner/Lonnie forced their kids to k*ll animals. Brenner threw El in a dark room/ Lonnie threw Will in a trunk. Brenner’s name being associated with the woods and Lonnie being a hunter , etc.

Also we know s4 involves this dark-storyline involving c**ld m*rders cause of foreshadowing

* Also, mentioned here how in s4 rolling a 11 isn’t actually a good thing and that it’s a callback to Will rolling a 7- in s1. Before things go array.In “paradise lost” when blaming the innocent goth boys someone asks the chief “on a scale 1 to 10 how confident are you? You have the right men?” And he laughs and says “11.”

*And , just for historical context of how ‘metal ‘ and ‘scary ‘ d&d was to nonplayers (in the 80s).

“In 1985, 60 Minutes dedicated a full hour to the supposed connection between D&D, Satanic rites, murders and su*cides . 2 years earlier, Patricia Pulling formed Bothered About Dungeons and Dragons (BADD) . She described D&D as ‘a fantasy role-playing game which leads to demonology, witchcraft, voodoo, murder, r*pe, blasphemy, suicide, assassination, insanity, sex perversion, homosexuality, pr*stitution, satanic type rituals, gambling, barbarism, cannibalism, sadism, desecration, demon summoning, necromantics, divination and other teachings.’ In 1987, Peter Leithart and George Grant published The Catechism of the New Age, a pamphlet where they introduced the idea that D&D was immoral because roleplaying allowed too much freedom for critical thinking, which might lead to heretical ideas. That same year, Chris Pritchard and two friends conspired to murder Pritchard’s stepfather in his sleep, the media ignored the obvious financial motivation and instead focused on the men being in the same D&D group.”

( I think quite a few of those themes will come up in s4/5 - although d&d isn’t the actual cause). It’ll just be a subversion.

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷; 𝓐 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓣𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓭𝔂

Below the cut is the tale of the fateful night in which left Auriaullen permanently scarred and entirely homeless at a bitterly young age. 

T’was akin to any other night; two to a bed so the rough fabric of lithe blankets could be shared, so body heat could be used in tandem with another’s to brew warmth enough to pass one comfortably through the night. Chatter faded as one at a time they fell to slumber, awaiting the arrival of the following morn to continue in their fractured education and faulty hopes for a bleak future.

Every child within the confines of the Orphanage had dreams, they all had hopes of what they could make of themselves; especially those of a young age. As the years and number of winters survived continued onward, however, did those hopes begin to fade and fracture. The more those children learned of the world around them, the more they came to realise that their standing and worth within the Holy See was naught, mayhap less than naught. Hopelessness and bitterness set in to many at a tender age and those that found themselves filled with anger often signed their lives up to the Temple Knights for any job they could get their hands on whether it be guard duty or being canon fodder. A bleak future.

T'was one night while resting soundly that those sharing the room with Auri were woken by a rather fierce explosion – the very stature of the building shaking around them – the ferocity of the sound enough to startle into a stunned state. Not daring to open the door, all six in the  bedroom remained under blankets – albeit closer to one another – for a good number of moments before rising to gather together. Their ages ranged from six to eleven, Auri in the middle of the range and none knew what to do.

They all chose to remain where they were, believing that someone would come to comfort and reassure them in but a few moments and aid them in whatever they needed to do, but as worries fiercely blossomed did thick smoke begin to flood in beneath the door. Their fear had them all huddle together in the corner furthest away from the door, the younger crying, the elder fretting.

Moments passed – the temperature in the room rising with every moment, the sounds of screams and crackling reaching long ears all too easily. Was anyone coming for them? To help? To tell them what was going on? Another explosion rocked the Orphanage, all six seeking comfort in one another’s company.

The eldest of them stood, promised to seek a way outward and thus paced towards the door, brave enough to open it though snatched his hand away just as swiftly for the fire lapping at the outside of the door had headed the handle and scorched his fingers; but all now could see the vibrancy of flames in which were easily heading towards them – the endlessly thick smoke flooding into the room forcing them all to remain close to the floor; coughing and spluttering.

The smoke burned eyes, burned lungs – the sheer heat obscene. Yet the eldest continued – promised he would be back once he had found someone to help them and disappeared quickly down the hallway. The remaining five waited – and waited – and as moments turned to ten did they doubt his return.

Auri was the next to stand, knowing that if he did not find anyone to help then they would all suffer in the flames. Keeping himself crouched did he head into the hallway – knowing the exit was to the right, down the stairs- but the office was to the right and the most likely place to find someone to help. All of the orphanage staff were often in there of an evening and so instead of seeking his own freedom did Auriaullen turn down the hallway towards the office.

Flames lapped at skin, his person moving quickly to the open door only to find the majority of a wall missing and two figures inside burning within the flames, deceased upon the floor. Quickly did he turn his bare feet on the floor, attempting to run back down the vast length of the hallway and back to where he was previous – but stone from the flooring above fell within his path and prevented him heading back the way in which he came. Beams from the loft space fell through; pinning the youth down against a wall where the flaming wood pressed terribly to skin and for a good number of moments did he fight against its weight in order to escape.

Clothing alight, Auri thrashed around in desperation to rid himself of it, throwing his person against the wall in the hope to snuff it out but naught helped. He couldn’t roll upon the ground for it was slowly becoming more smothered in burning debris and thus the only hope he had was to run.

Down the back set of stairs did he dart, attempting to keep his person as low as he could, hands desperately patting and padding at his burning person; the fabric melting against skin, falling off in singed pieces before he finally threw the rest of his shirt aside; the agony obscene. Flaming material aside or otherwise, his skin was fiercely burning and every moment that it went onward did he find himself in more agony; raw.

Feet paused, coughing heavily enough with the thicker smoke, scarce able to breathe through it – the heat enough to send one’s head reeling – squinting eyes certain he could see others lay upon the ground though he knew not if they were still alive. As he paced past, coughing with ferocity, did he look - - and they appeared unmoving. Some together, some still holding hands – children and adults alike dotted the building.

Sheer stubbornness forced the youth onward, eventually finding his way back around to the front of the orphanage, his person automatically heading towards the nearest window he could see – smashing through it with his fists alone before near tossing himself out of it and into the cold.

He crawled and clambered himself away from the burning building; noting the arrival of folks with pails and buckets filled with water, attempt to battle their way inward and yet none aided him in struggling away. Upon the ground did he scream and writhe, calling for help for himself and for those he had left, the agony unlike anything he had felt previously; the entirety of his right side that had been pinned beneath the burning beam burning, the fabric of trousers still alight in places where it had not yet fallen apart.

Frantically did he roll upon the cold ground, parts of skin left upon stone, fire stubborn upon his very being. Finally did aid arrive for a Fortemps Knight took pity upon him and ran over, tossing snow upon the youth’s body to not only put out the flames but to cool the terribly burned skin. Coughing and barely able to breathe from the inhalation of smoke, Auri found himself blacking out, unable to keep his consciousness and the last thing he heard was a promise of aid.

He woke four days later within the Infirmary – he could scarcely move, didn’t have the strength to talk. His body lay still, the terrible shock to his person beginning to fade away as he settled; half-sedated to prevent panic.

Thankfully, Auri had been unconscious when the burns had been cleaned in the hope of preventing infections, the blood that was lost replaced by the time he had woke by various administered concoctions to aid in his body’s production of it.

The level of bandaging was obscene, the constant levels of support and treatment he needed to do anything at all naught short of horrendous. Wounds were cleaned and dressed twice a day – a painful and distressing feature – burns of mostly a Third Degree, but some tilted more towards Fourth. Nerve endings in certain areas of his person, specifically his right shoulder and thigh were so terribly affected that feeling is no longer present.

Seeing his burns for the very first time came several weeks away from the point of being admitted – his person stood entirely void of clothing before a mirror where he was left to come to terms with it. It was a shocking and hideous sight and the feelings of disgust and nausea stuck with him permanently.

T’was that day, in fact, that Auri was visited by a Halonic Priest – his person growing excited for he hoped to hear words of support and motivation – that he must have been destined for something good if he had survived such hardships, right? Wrong. With the priest sat beside him upon his bed did Auri listen to several scriptures, praying with all of his might that all would turn out well in the end – he’d fought well, in his own way, right? Would the Fury be proud?

“It was not an act of fate that drew the Cleansing Fire to the Building but a will from The Fury. The purifying flames touched all of those within and cleansed them of their sins. The weakest perished for they were not blessed, and you of whom survived have been warned by her ever strong fire to step the right path.”

So he had been scorned? And the others – they had all perished, for what? They could not have been heretical when only children living sheltered lives! They did not deserve to be burned alive. Auri drew little from the conversation other than the fact his faith was fractured and his hatred for those around him grew. They saw him as scorned by their god - - and it would be an image that would never leave him.

Healing was slow, rehabilitation scarce; offers of further treatment non-existent but he would not have survived if not for House Fortemps offering to cover the medical bill.

Overall, it took eight months of treatment to bring Auri to a state where his wounds were fully healed over (the severity of the scarring obscene), all infections along the way thankfully beaten – and thus he was released from the infirmary and out into Ishgard where he had naught waiting for him. No home, no help, no hot meal in the evening.

Still bandaged, still hurting, still uncomfortable and growing used to how his person had changed… he simply headed to the Brume. T’was there he was ostracised for how he looked, avoided for so many believed him to be forsaken by The Fury and thus cursed, somehow. A bad omen. An Omen he had become, in his own right.

His lack of faith altered his perspective, the judgemental gazes and lack of care from others only aiding in brewing hatred towards his own kind. T’was but a downward spiral from there where feelings became hideously repressed and his care diminished. 

Prompt 11: Preaching To The Choir

Esredes was always somewhat tense on these nights. It was recruitment night, and one he was at the head of. Ysayle did the bulk of these, seeing who showed up to the invisible ink on the innocuous flyers and seeing who would step forward and join their ranks. She was incredibly good at it, even from the start. But the woman could not be everywhere at once, and Esredes was one of the many others who volunteered to do the task. Security was always tight at the meetings. A lot of his own stood by as guard to both the invited guests and the speaker, and incidents were rare. The meeting was always held somewhere they did not return to again, and with plenty of room to get away by flight, and plenty of distance between the speaker and the audience, surrounded by his people as guard as they were. Yet it never helped that tension of the fact any one could be the incident, and there was still always so much put on the line. Not to even mention, being the speaker himself was always worse than simply guarding it. When he was standing by and managing these events, he was in his usual combat uniform inspecting people one by one to check for weapons, and then standing near Ysayle as guard afterwards. But when he was the speaker, the uniform didn't cut it. The speaker had to have presence, they had to try and captivate the vulnerable and questioning audience. So the weavers at the camp had settled on constructing him a long, black cloak that draped down to his feet, with equally long and draping sleeves. The sleeves add a lot of character, they said. The whole of the cloak was adorned with silver stitched accents, in a way they claimed evaded feeling too fancy, yet evoked a sense of mysticism necessary to captivate the audience. Every other speaker had a similar cloak attire made to them. It seemed they were the uniform look to go with. Esredes somewhat understood the power of the cloak. When he wore it before the ceremony began, it felt a bit awkward, like he was pretending to be a mage when he was an imitator of it at most, and he found himself fumbling idly with the sleeves often. It was only once he took his place and got into the thick of it that he truly felt the concept of presence it evoked. For now, though, Esredes had to stand awkwardly among the rest of the guard on a cliff above the gathering, as below his people continued their process of vetting everyone who came, and watch quietly, reciting his speech in his head repeatedly. It didn't matter how many times he had given this exact speech before, or the fact he often went scriptless for motivational speeches to his people, he still felt the need to be sure he did not mess it up. Behind the cloak's hood, his orange eyes peered out at every new person who arrived carefully, contemplating to himself if they would join or leave, if he would get to know them or they would be just another lost speck on the wind, and what brought them here. There was always an element of fascination to each individual story, no matter how many similar ones came. Finally, a hush fell over the gathered crowd. The guard moved into position, a circle upon the cliff, and he took his place in the middle. How odd it did feel, to be the guarded item in the middle, as if he wasn't just as often on the outer circle, as if there was really anything to guard and he wouldn't just immediately attack anyone who thought they could shoot the messenger. But spectacle was spectacle. Esredes slowly made his way into the center and peered down at the crowd once more from beneath his hood. The air hung silent for a moment as all eyes peered on him, and then he raised his hands up and let his gloved hands point out at the crowd as the long sleeves trailed down gracefully. "Good evening, people of Coerthas and beyond," he began. "Whether you have truly come from within the city's walls or lands beyond, I give you the warmest welcome to our humble little gathering. Though I am sure all of you come from vastly different backgrounds, one thing has brought you here tonight- doubt." He made his first strategic pause, watching the crowd a moment as his words fell down below to them. "We live in a world where there is much and more to doubt- how can the people of Coerthas be truly certain of sleep's next embrace with all that rages above and below?" He paused for a small moment, and began to pace to the left, one arm across his abdomen. "Nor will the walls of Ishgard itself protect anyone, for within them the Church listens to your every thought and ravages its people for heresy. Thus, you are brought here." He turned the other way and dropped both arms, returning slowly to the center. "In all of the doubt that swirls within you, you have come to listen to a truth that hides out here on the northern wind. A tale of the lies of the Church and the origins of our very nation." He faced the crowd full on once more, and held his arms out directly out from their place on the side of his body, forearm and palms raised a little and facing the sky. "The Dragonsong War that has plagued the lands of Coerthas for a thousand years did not begin how we are asked to believe it is. It began even earlier." Murmurs and whispers came from the crowd, and Esredes allowed them to ripple through before he continued. "Long ago, when these lands were fresh and new to the Elezen, they came to settle and encroached directly on the existing territory of the dragons. When war broke out, only one thing could bring it to a ceasefire- that of a maiden named Shiva. You might know her as a witch who lied down with dragons, the original heretic- but she is anything but. She is the one who had the courage to seek out the voice of the other side and found the great wyrm by the name of Hraesvelgr. The two fell in love, and it was the witnessing of their bond by all that lead to a ceasefire. For two hundred years, man and dragon worked together, they built structures that still stand today in Dravania. But it was not Nidhogg who ruined this fleeting peace, but the very founders of Ishgard." Esredes paused. "Do you ever stop to wonder why the wyrm is as lost to vengeance as he is? Why his rage upon the city is so unending? It's because he was betrayed. The founders lured him to the city and stole his eye, devouring it for the taste of a dragon's power without the need to rely on one. And so the wyrm rages on, forever unable to regain that which is lost." Esredes paused once more and trailed slowly across his makeshift stage. "Nidhogg rages on, trying to destroy Ishgard. And Ishgard crumbles piece by piece to his attacks, accelerating its own destruction by tearing each other apart from the inside with accusations of heresy and the lines between high and lowborn. Tonight, all of you have come to the middle." To emphasize his point, he stood in the middle again and raised both hands up. "We are the people who fight not for the self destructive Ishgard, nor the raging horde, but for the one thing neither of them are capable of, peace. For just as Shiva brought man and dragon together once in the midst of conflict, so must something rise again to be the missing link, or else the lands of Coerthas and possibly all of Eorzea, will be eventually be consumed in dragonfire." Another strategic pause came and went. The crowd had much louder murmuring this time. "Until the people of Ishgard can see the light of the truth, there will be nothing but continuous warfare, and the continued destruction of its own people. Ishgard is eating itself alive day by day in its desperation to survive. It fights and resists us at every turn, but it is up to us alone to bring it to parley by any means possible. We will bring salvation to Ishgard and punishment to the wicked, through the collaboration of people of all kinds and dragons who will rise to the task. The very future of this land rests on everything we try to accomplish." Esredes stepped forward and scanned the faces of the crowd. "I expect for many of you beyond the simply curious, you have come here because something in your heart cries out for justice unseen. And for all of you, I say now- justice is possible, and justice will come. Your wounds are not without their sources of healing. For Ishgard is never to flourish again without the weeds exterminated from the garden. Imagine it, for a moment. A land where once again man and dragon work together, benefitting from their mutual talents, the populations of each flourishing and allowing the land to thrive. Children never again wake up afraid of being burned by dragon's fire. That is our greatest future. And that is a future worth fighting for." Esredes moved his hands up to his hood and threw it off, exposing his face and hair to the crowd. With it, he rose his hands all the way up past his head and into the air. "People of Eorzea! I ask you now, to search through the depths of your hearts, and find it in you to take a stand for something greater than yourself. To channel the grievances of your heart into making a world in which others will not suffer the pain you go through each day, and this land will shine with beauty it hasn't glimpsed in a very long time. It is a path of hardship and sacrifice, but it is nothing compared to what will befall everyone if the war is allowed to continue to stain the soil with blood. Through our collective will, we shall bridge the gap, we shall sweep upon the hearts of man and dragon to make them one again- and nothing Ishgard may do will stop us until the Archbishop has atoned for his crimes and every dragon in the land is beyond blind rage." He paused there, to let his words fall over the crowd for a moment, and slowly lowered his arms back to his side. "If you would like to stand with Shiva's people, please step forward and gather by the group of people in front of you. If not, you are free to leave, and never speak of this night again. But make your choice with all due consideration, as there will be no reversing it." The crowd looked to one another. Slowly, one person stepped forward, then another, until every single one had stepped over. The guards began to instruct and lead them up the cliff to rejoin his group up here. And with that, Esredes stepped aside and rejoined the group himself. "Well done," one of them said to him with a soft elbow nudge. "Have you ever considered becoming an actor after you're done saving Coerthas?" "Not in the slightest." Esredes said. "This is just practical acting for a purpose. I don't think I could do artistic acting. People train a long time for that." "Maybe we'll put on our first ever Disciples play and cast you in it someday," he said with a wink. "I would kick you out of this movement." He chuckled. "That's the spirit, Esredes. Never change." Esredes smiled faintly back, and then began walking. "Now," he said. "Let's hope the room counts are accurate tonight..."

(read on ao3)

Lapin wakes up in shadow, beaten and broken badly enough that the air is heavy with the sugar-rich smell of his own blood.

In sweetness—, he thinks. But where is my strength now?

His senses return to him slowly, but when they do, the picture they paint is an un-pretty one: a six-by-eight foot cell of hewn stone, matching sets of cinched iron manacles running between his wrists and ankles to bolts in the wall, the feeling of sticky, half-dried chocolate across an aching stretch of his abdomen. His staff is missing, as are his Primogen robes, but there is a small huddle of pink-and-red peppermint near his feet, something with twitching ears and a curlicue tail and sharp button-black eyes.

"So we're alive, then," Lapin says, gingerly lifting himself into a sitting position while the pig—Priscilla? Praline? No, Preston—shuffles forward and nudges at his hand with a soft, damp nose. "Perhaps the Bulb is capable of kindness after all."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, apostate." Walking up on the other side of the bars is the young Commander Grissini, flanked by two fellow Ceresian guards. He looks battle-weary and bloodstained—though, notably, not with his own; blackberry jam, if Lapin had to guess, judging by the smell of sugared fruit. (Heaven knows he'd never respected them, but Lapin will certainly credit the Tartguard for that particular moment of loyalty.)

"Just a joke, Commander." Lapin's mouth narrows in a tight smile. "I know well that the Bulb has no capacity for kindness or mercy. Has your Pontifex told you that, I wonder? Do you know you serve a hollow god?"

"Silence, heretic," one of the guards hisses. "Keep your false words behind your teeth unless you'd like me to cut them from your tongue."

Lapin lets his smile widen but remains quiet; there's surely pain enough in store for him without inviting more of it himself.

"Easy," Grissini says to the guard. "The Pontifex warned us of the lies he would tell. A rabid dog barks loudest when it feels the chain tightening around its neck."

Lapin exhales—not quite a laugh, but not entirely humorless either. A rabid dog. Well, he's been called worse.

"Something funny, apostate?" A line creases Grissini's brow. "I can't imagine what you might find amusing about your situation."

Notting particularly, but Lapin is hardly about to give them the satisfaction of seeing the knotted weight of his concern instead. He'll two-step so long as he has the illusion of stable footing, however rotted and fragile the foundations might really be.

"Tell me," he says after a moment, "Sir Keradin, in the cathedral—he killed me, did he not?"

"He did."

"And yet given that I am here, alive, I must have been revivified, yes?"

"Obviously," Grissini says with a note of impatience.

Interesting, Lapin thinks. And likely inauspicious. He glances between Grissini and the two guards at his side, then lets his eyes alight on the man at Grissini's left, the one who'd threatened to cut out his tongue. He considers the man, makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. "Would you like to know what I saw in the afterlife?" Lapin says to him. "Would you like to know the true form of your Bulb? How many can say they've been blessed enough to behold it themselves?"

The guard looks between him and Grissini, the sharp, irate lines of his expression bent a little by uncertainty. Then to Lapin, voice notably less assured than before, "I would never be so foolish as to trust your falsehoods."

"Understandable," Lapin muses. "But how can you be sure that I'd lie? Even for a man with such conviction in his faith, aren't you the slightest bit curious of what I have to say?" Lapin raises an eyebrow.

The guard hesitates for a moment. Lapin gestures for him to move closer. Slowly, his face warring between anger and doubt, he crouches down to where Lapin sits.

"Ennio—" Grissini says, warning. Lapin leans towards the bars, lowers his voice for Ennio's ears alone.

"It was luminescent and shining," Lapin whispers. "The most beautiful thing for miles, brighter than any that had come before or would follow. To walk closer demands that you shield your eyes, lest your vision be burned away as punishment for your hubris. But I did approach, and I felt its light and its heat and its power, and then I opened my eyes—just for a moment—and do you know what I saw?"

Ennio tilts his head closer, eyes shut, his forehead pressed against the iron as he listens.

"—Nothing." Ennio recoils as if scalded, mouth twisted in a snarl. Lapin raises his voice as he continues, grinning wide. "All that beauty and all that brightness and nothing beneath it!" He feels fingers at his throat as Ennio's hand shoots through the bars, fisting around his collar and yanking him forward. Sharp, bruising pain blooms across his face as he slams into the metal, splitting his lip and the skin above his eye, snapping something in his nose, reopening a healed-over wound on his temple. Lapin can taste chocolate on his teeth and laughs, loud and reckless. "Congratulations, for your faith is akin to a man praying for salvation at the foot of a fucking boulder—"

"Enough!" Grissini shouts as Ennio starts to move again, shouldering him back from the bars, one hand closing around Ennio's wrist until he gives up his hold on Lapin's collar. Lapin falls back against the wall, still smiling as something begins to swell above his eye, blood pooling along his upper lip and against his gums. Grissini shoves Ennio back against the far wall, forearm up under his chin, and says, "Leave—" he jerks his head at the other guard, "—both of you, until you can learn some composure."

Grissini holds himself in front of Ennio until he relents, then gives a curt nod as he straightens his uniform, adjusts the grip on his spear, and turns to walk back down the hall with his compatriot. Before he goes, he spits on the ground in front of Lapin's cell, muttering something that sounds like filthy fucking heretic.

"Have you always been such a fool?" Grissini asks once they've gone. "Or does being in Comida bring it out in you?"

"I can see very few bright spots from my current vantage, Commander," Lapin says, wiping some of the blood from his nose, his temple, his eyebrow. His smile fades. "Forgive me for having enjoying a moment of levity when the opportunity appeared."

"Your situation can always be made worse." Grissini leans on his spear; it at least seems clean of dried jam or crumbs of shortbread crust. Then again, how much difference does it make that he didn't do any of the killing himself? "I say that not as a threat, but as a reminder. You are only alive because it suits the will of the Pontifex. So long as she believes you are useful, she will take whatever steps necessary to wring out your remaining value."

"If that bloated broccoli bitch thinks I'm helping with anything, then I look forward to enlightening her."

"Bulb above, wake up!" Grissini snaps. "Are you truly so oblivious to the nature of your situation that you need me to spell it out for you? There is no future in which you live to see the outside of this prison. While you are here, the Pontifex will make use of the wide scope of her imagination and the tools at Sir Keradin's disposal until you surrender any and all information you have about House Rocks, your fellow Candians and their political intentions, and the source of your witchcraft." Grissini pauses; Lapin is as weary as he's ever been, his eye nearly swollen closed from the bruising blow of the bars, but he could almost mistake the expression on Grissini's face for something akin to shame. "Undoubtedly the process will be both slow and painful. Once it's done, should you have proved to be compliant and your intelligence reliable, she may be merciful enough to allow you a quick death." He blinks, eyes shifting away from Lapin's stare before meeting it again. "Far likelier, though, that she devises some new punishment to fill your final days, simply for the inconvenience you've caused her thus far."

"You don't seem particularly pleased at that prospect, Commander," Lapin ventures, watching the slight shifts in Grissini's face. "Won't you also be excited to watch the 'false prophet' burn?"

Grissini holds himself carefully still. "I have tremendous respect for the Concorde, for the duties of my station, and for the oaths I have taken to Ceresia and the Emperor," he says after a moment. "That does not mean I take any satisfaction in the outcome awaiting you. From what I witnessed on the Sucrosi Road and in the tournament, as well as in the cathedral, you and your fellow Candians seem a group worth admiring." He exhales, slow. "I am—truly sorry that this is the future we find ourselves in."

"Sorry enough to help me attempt an escape?" Grissini maintains his steady, statue-faced look, and Lapin smiles a little ruefully. "No, I didn't think so. I thank you for your insights, Commander, and for your kind words—however hollow they might be." Grissini winces a little; a cheap barb, but at this particular point, Lapin won't deny himself such pettiness. "Was there anything else? If not, I would ask you to let me enjoy whatever remaining peace and quiet I am permitted."

Grissini works at his jaw, brow still creased. "Save your breath on spellcasting; the cell has been enchanted by the Pontifex herself to prevent any witchcraft. I believe your first—interrogation is scheduled for tomorrow morning, so you should still have some hours to rest." He turns to go, then pauses. "For what it's worth, they haven't been found yet—your king and the princesses, nor Sir Theobald or the Jawbreaker boy. If they've managed to escape Comida, there may still be some hope for them."

And then he's gone.

In the dim light of the cell, Lapin lets out a deep sigh, allowing his face to bear all the weight of the bone-deep exhaustion he's felt since waking; he has no way of seeing his reflection, but he wouldn't be surprised to see new wrinkles dug in around his eyes and bridging his forehead. Heavens, he's so tired. Next to him, Preston makes a soft whuffing noise and clambers half into his lap, circling a few times before settling in a tight peppermint curl, his snout pressed into the crook of Lapin's left elbow.

"Alright, but just this once," Lapin says, petting absently at the soft, peach-fuzz stretch of skin between Preston's ears. "And only because this will stay with us." He scratches under Preston's chin, then notices a clump of something sticky dried into the short bristles of Preston's fur, minty-smelling blood congealed around scarred-over skin, ragged wounds that match the barbed edges of Keradin's mace.

"What a bastard." His hands are gentle around the pale pink stretches of new skin. "Who goes after a pig." He murmurs the incantation for a healing spell—both for poor Preston and himself—but true to Grissini's word, nothing happens. Unfortunate; in addition to Preston's wounds, he can feel at least two cracked ribs in his own chest.

"I should give the Pontifex more credit for her counter-charms," Lapin says after a moment. "That, or you've cut your losses and found a new attendant." He smiles wryly. "Likely one who can serve your interests more effectively than from a cell."

He waits, but there's no answer. Were he a hopeful man, he might attribute the silence to the Pontifex's wards, shielding any divine influence from entering the cell as effectively as they've dampened his own spellcasting ability. Far likelier though that he's been abandoned to his fate.

"I suppose it's just you and I now, Preston." He glances down and takes some small comfort in the continued rise-and-fall of Preston's chest. "For the moment, at least. Admittedly, this isn't how I'd envisioned the end of my particular story, but the dice fall where they may. Heaven knows there are worse companions I might have found myself with."

Preston lets out another contented whuff and resettles himself, eyes gently closed.

"I think you have the right idea there," Lapin says, resting his head on the wall behind him, doing his best to ignore the slight crag of stone jutting into his lower back. "If Commander Grissini is to be trusted—and, in this case, I believe he is—then such moments of peace will be few and far between in the days to come."  

Whuff, whuff.

"Yes, I'm glad to hear they're alright, too, though I'd place little faith in our paths crossing again. My apologies—I know I'm not the companion that young Liam was."

Whuff. Whuff, whuff.

"Very well, I shall endeavor to sleep. Perhaps we'll wake in the morning to find a kinder world."

Whuff.

"No, I don't think so either."

As Lapin closes his eyes and counts the measure of his breathing, he works very hard to rein his wayward thoughts back from dark visions of tomorrow, of windowless rooms and tables with built-in restraints and long trays of metal-mouthed implements. Focuses instead on remembering his study in Castle Candy, flickering firelight against the bound spines of his books, sugar-spun windows opening up to a view of the grounds below, the purple-tipped peaks of the Great Stone Candy Mountains to the north.

Breathe.

A forest of ice cream-frosted evergreens instead of Sir Keradin's blade digging for secrets under his skin. Spring afternoons by the banks of the Cola instead of the sickly yellow light of the Pontifex's magic. Powdered motes of pastel dust in the castle library instead of hands tightening around his throat or firebrands pressed against his feet. Home instead of a cell. Safety instead of this aching pit in his stomach.

Breathe, Lapin. It is all you can do for the moment.

When he finally drifts off, the sleep he finds is a fitful one, punctuated by uneasy, sharp-edged dreams. Slowly, though, his mind drifts towards calmer waters, the soothing rhythm of a lazy current, true rest for his worn-down mind. At one point, Preston shifts in his lap, still half-asleep, nosing the air around them curiously. Almost as if he'd caught the faint smell of sugar plums.

One thing I really appreciate with FFXIV is how (most of!) the stories approach topics of forgiveness and long pains. In Stormblood and Heavensward content and areas it comes up often, with characters forced to confront those involved in years of systemic harm.

In Stormblood, it’s collaborators like the former Skulls--Fordola’s crew--who struggle to fit back in with their countrymen. M’naago’s custom deliveries include finding one of those youths still alive, and trying to make amends as he can, expecting to someday be caught by the Resistance and tried--but M’naago lets him go, bringing up Conrad’s desire to give those young soldiers a second chance.

One of my favorite scenes is still Raganfrid telling Fordola he cannot forgive her, but can thank her for what she does to save others. It’s complicated, messy, and human.

In Ishgard’s Restoration, those themes of long-held hurts versus moving onto a new future together likewise come up, as Ishgard’s citizens still struggle with accepting heretics and dragons, while the Inquisition continues to try to rely on their old fear tactics--that no longer work in light of the lord speaker’s proclamations. But it’s handled with grace and nuance by Francel and his manservant Foncrineau, as they think of their own losses and pain, but the need to push Ishgard forward to a new age free of the burdens of the Dragonsong War. It won’t be an easy journey, but as one of the options you’re given says, the first steps of a long journey are often the hardest.

A few examples from the Firmament below the cut.

Sorrowful Citizen: We had heard that there were dragons in the Firmament. It appears the rumors were true. Sorrowful Citizen: One of them near killed me in the war. Tore me open the length of my back. They say the larger one used to be a man, but the mere sight of him...it makes the scar ache unbearably. Wizened Citizen: And my daughter, she was murdered by those wretched heretics. It's easy to say there's peace now, but it's not so easy to forget. Francel: I too lost a dear brother to the dragons. Believe me when I say I understand that some wounds do not heal. Francel: I will not force you to accept Marcelloix. Yet despite his appearance, he is but another Ishgardian, no different from ourselves. So I ask that you withhold your judgment for a time. That you give him a chance.

-------

Wizened Citizen: Oh, to be so young and open-minded... I know that you've done us no ill, but I can't simply forgive and forget the heretics for what they did... Foncrineau: You have lost a great deal, and we would not diminish your suffering by asking you to change your views. Yet, in spite of yourself, might you not try to see the individual before you as simply that─an individual, deserving of a chance? Wizened Citizen: <sob> I-I'm sorry... I-I know I'm not being fair... Foncrineau: Come, come, it wouldn't do to strain yourselves. If you would follow me, good sirs, I will find you some refreshments.

---------

Marcelloix: I know, I know... What I did was unforgivable, and I don't have the right to be with you and Noalle. I'll leave this place for good and all. Audaine: No, no, no! Listen to the end, will you? What I want to say is, I can't give you a definite answer right this moment...but I'm willing to give us another chance. Audaine: If you're still the man that I once knew, then perhaps we can work through this problem together, like we've worked through others. If this is enough for you for now, then you're welcome at our new home.

----------

Audaine: Forgiveness won't come overnight, and we still have a long journey ahead of us. But if we have faith in one another, I'm confident that we'll find happiness again.

Light Casts a Shadow - Chapter 1

This chapter is now avaliable on AO3!!!

Chapter Summary:

Bagra whisks Alina away into the bows of the castle, telling her the ‘truth’ and insisting she flee, Alina is put in a spin. She wonders if Bagra was telling the truth and if Aleksander was lying to her. Or if it might be the other way around. She wonders about her new friends, and her old one, and what her place in all of this is.

Author Note:

I know there’s a thousand and one plots out here like this, but damn it, it’s a good one, so who cares. This is my take on it. I kinda binged the show and the books in a week, so there will be a mix of both in here, but mostly based off the show.

One thing I find super interesting about reworking this scene is that they made Bagra way more manipulative and Aleksander much more… emotional and human. Show!Aleks seemed like he legitimately fell in love with Alina, as opposed to Book!Aleks whose manipulations were so cold and obvious that of course Alina got the fuck out of there. In the show, there’s more room for her to doubt and think that she could maybe draw him back. So, I’m going to have fun playing around with that dynamic.

A Stupid Decision

Alina watched as Aleksander left, her heart still racing, a coy smile still pulling at her lips where she could still feel the kiss he'd rushed back to give her. She let out a slow breath to try and still her racing heart but was unable to wipe the smile from her face. She could barely believe that had just happened!

She'd barely been able to believe it since she'd surprised the both of them by kissing him that morning. It was an impulse, and when he'd drawn up to his full height, she remembered how dread had filled her that she'd overstepped the line. But then the start of that smile that set butterflies free in her stomach began to tug at his lips, and before she knew it, she was kissing him again. It had been interesting and thrilling throughout the day to see the small gestures of affection he showed her amongst his usual stoicism.

Telling her how lovely she looked, giving her flowers. She was certain that there would be a lot of gossip in the morning. She may be new at this, but she was sure that they were not being very subtle. The thought made her giggle. She could only imagine Nadia and Marie insisting on her telling them the real story and pestering her for every detail. She wondered how they'd react to know that they'd kissed… and that he had practically thrown her up on top of his war table and…

 A sudden creaking sound filled the air, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a door swing open where there hadn't been one before. Quickly, she created a large ball of sunlight to defend herself but paused when she saw the familiar figure holding the door open, lantern in hand.

"Come with me," the old woman ordered.

"Baghra?! What are you…?" She let the sunlight go out.

"Stupid girl!" she hissed, striding over and grabbing her by the wrist, dragging her back towards the secret door. "No time to dawdle."

"N-no!"

"You need to leave this place," she insisted. She placed a hand on her back and forcefully guided her through the door.

"What? Why?" she demanded.

What had happened? Was there an attack? Was she being hunted? She hadn't heard a ruckus outside the door, but Aleksander had been urgently called away. It was something important enough he'd felt the need to keep his guards outside the door to make sure she was safe.

"Now, before it's too late."

"Baghra, why?"

Baghra reached up to the wall beside her and pulled a lever that closed the door before she finally answered. "I'm trying to save you living the rest of your life as a slave." And with that, she walked on ahead, down the narrow passage and the stairs before them. And this time, Alina followed. If not, just because she wanted answers.

"A Slave? But… Baghra!" Ugh, the old woman was always so frustrating. She kept moving and wasn't giving her a straight answer. Instead, she had to chase after her. "Whatever’s wrong, I should go back and find Aleks- General Kirigan,” she corrected herself. “I’m sure he can help.”

Baghra paused. “I’m trying to save you from Aleksander.” Then she carried on, leaving Alina stunned on the step.

Her head spun. What on earth was Baghra talking about?! Aleksander wouldn’t enslave her. He wouldn’t hurt her. He… he cared about her. They had been kissing only moments ago, and she was sure that she would have been in the cells from the get-go if he wanted her as a slave.

Looking back down the hall, where Aleksander was, where she wanted to go, she had to turn back and follow the old woman who just kept moving along.

“He intends to expand the Fold and use it as a weapon,” she went on. “That’s what he created it for in the first place.”

Hold on, what? Okay, Baghra had to be going insane. “The Black Heretic created the Fold,” she said. Everyone knew that. “Hundreds of years ago, and it was a mistake! Maybe you’re dehydrated from all the heat in your hut. He wanted me to train so I could get stronger!”

She finally managed to cut in front of her and force her to a stop. “Did he?” she replied patronisingly. “Or did he want you distracted by dreams of your future with him?” Anger bubbled up in her. How dare she? And how did she even know…? “Did he want you dependant on him, on his Fabrikator’s tricky little gloves?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. He wouldn’t. These were all words from a bitter old woman. He wouldn’t do that to her. “No!”

“Child,” her tone, for once, was almost sympathetic. “Aleksander is the Black Heretic. He chose a nobleman’s name to hide after he made the Fold.”

It all sounded so absurd.

“You’re lying.”

“Look at me, girl!” she demanded. Then, with a twist of her hand, the room around them fell into darkness as shadows surrounded them, making Alina look about in shock. Her heart froze in her chest.

She was a Shadow Summoner.

“You can… But only Kirigan’s bloodline…” His bloodline. Oh, that’s when it hit her. She was his bloodline. “You’re his mother.”

“My son tried creating his own army with merzost,” she answered, letting the shadows seep away and the light return. “He didn’t think about the people who lived there, what such power would do to them. Turned them into the twisted, evil things that attacked you.”

Baghra’s words sunk in, and she felt her heart sinking with them. “Volcra were men?”

“And women. Children.” She had tears in her eyes as she spoke now, and her words became a whisper. “I warned him there’d be a price.” And again, she abruptly walked on, sweeping past and leaving Alina behind to process what she’d just been told.

Part of her still refused to believe it. It just… it didn’t sound like Aleksander. And he’d said it was his ancestor, not him. He was nowhere near that old. She’d heard a rumour he was over a hundred, but no one could live for that long. No one could be as old as the Fold.

“That was hundreds of years ago!” she cried, rushing after Baghra.

“He’s had many names, served many kings, faked countless deaths… waiting for you.”

She’d led them to some kind of storage room, and as she looked around, she led them to a large, old picture frame and pulled the cloth off it to reveal a familiar figure.

Aleksander.

The details weren’t perfect, the artist’s style making it seem a little off, but it was recognisably him.

“With you at his command,” she went on, “he’ll be able to enter the Fold and weaponise it as he always planned. He’ll be unstoppable.”

“He told me he wanted to make the country whole again,” she said, unable to take her eyes off the portrait.

Maybe he was older than he’d said he was… but that didn’t mean his intentions were different. It was all he talked about. Bringing down the Fold…

“He’s had centuries to master lying to naïve girls.” This finally drew Alina’s eyes to her, and her voice suddenly grew mocking. “Did he tell you how lonely he was? Give you a glimpse of the wounded boy? He isn’t a boy at all. He is eternal. And you never stood a chance.” Alina wanted to scream at her that it wasn’t true. That she was lying. But she couldn’t help her mind running over every moment the two of them had spent together. Everything he’d ever said to her through the filter of deception… “Did you think this was just about you? He’s been obsessed with power, with hunting all of Morozova’s creatures. You nearly gave him the stag.” She looked up at her, confused about how she’d done such a thing, but the woman continued on. “And I’m telling you, you must hide.”

Again, Baghra was off, walking away and leaving her behind to stare at the imperfect but recognisable portrait of Aleksander… Her mind was reeling still. She didn’t know what to think or how she felt. She was just overwhelmed and lost. She didn’t know if she should trust Aleksander or his mother… Or either of them.

It wasn’t true… it couldn’t be true, could it? It just didn’t make sense. Yet there were small bits of proof before her already. She knew Aleksander, or at least she thought she had. Her heart ached as she thought of his every word being a lie to manipulate her. But the bigger part of her couldn’t bring herself to believe it. It just wasn’t true! But even if it was…

She strode determinedly over to Baghra. “I won’t help him! I’ll fight back!” she declared.

She just needed to figure out the truth. She couldn’t let Baghra drag her away until she knew that much.

“You’re far from strong enough to face him,” she scoffed. “I thought I had more time to prepare you, but it’ll have to wait.”

She opened another door and held it open for her. She was holding out the lantern for her, and it was clear enough that she was supposed to go alone from here. As she handed over the lantern and made to close the door behind her, she gave her some final instructions.

“Stay on the main path until the fork. Take the path to the right. You’ll find food storage. Wait there. There are some Grisha who are loyal to me. They will help keep you safe until I find a plan.

“The right?” she reiterated, and Baghra nodded.

“Now go, girl!”

The door swung closed, and she was alone.

Alone in the dark.

Alone with her racing thoughts.

Numbly, she continued down the dark, narrow passageway for some time, her racing thoughts a torrent threatening to drag her under.

A huge part of her struggled to believe what Baghra had told her. But what if she was right? If Aleksander really was hundreds of years old, it only made sense he’d have had years of manipulating people. He could have been telling her only what she wanted to hear all this time. Playing along with the whims of a foolish girl who thought herself beginning to fall in love. And how better to manipulate…

But… No. No, not all of that could have been a lie. It can’t have. She had seen the look in his eyes. She’d watched that beautiful, genuine smile bloom across his features, lighting him up like she’d never seen before. She’d seen the unshed tears in his eyes. And the pure awe and wonder on his face. She’d seen the look of hope in his eyes whenever they landed on her. That couldn’t all have been a lie, could it?

Or was she looking for things that weren’t there? Trying to deny it all, so it hurt less.

Did she trust Baghra more than Aleksander? Did she really trust anyone here? Maybe it was a good thing that she was getting out. She’d never have to come back here. She’d never have to deal with all this insane nonsense again. She wouldn’t have to be their Sun Summoner. She wouldn’t have to deal with the political bullshit. Or with bloody Grisha like Ivan and Zoya… and Genya, and Nadia and Marie, and Fedyor… Not… not any of them.

Her friends.

Once upon a time, if she’d been asked about friends, she’d say she only had one. Mal. But then, things changed. Then they were separated, and she joined the mapmaker's guild. And she supposed she could call some of them her friends. Alexei had at least been kind to her… Now he was likely dead - lost in the Fold, a place she was supposed to destroy.

And Genya and been a genuine friend to her, as had Nadia and Marie. Marie had even volunteered to pretend to be her for the night to help keep her safe. Could she really just abandon them with no warning?

Could she abandon any of them without warning?

What about Aleksander? What would he think? Would he think she’d run away from him right after they’d almost become intimate? Would he think she was kidnapped? Whether he was the Black Heretic or not, manipulator or just her Aleks, she knew that he would be driven to fury. She could already imagine the impassive mask he tried to wear to hide how upset or angry he was and how the shadows would flock around him, darkening the room as they darkened his mind. She could imagine the quiet rage he would command everyone at his service to search for her. He would leave no stone unturned…

He would never let her go…

She came to a standstill, realising that her arm was aching from holding the heavy lantern in her grasp. Why was she even bothering with it? She had the power of the sun at her fingertips! And with the smallest twist of her hand, an orb now floated there, lighter and brighter than the lantern, allowing her to put it down. She continued down the path only a few more steps before she came to the fork that Baghra had spoken of. She stared at the sharp point of the wall a moment before looking towards the right, where she’d been told to go.

Down there, Grisha loyal to Baghra would meet her to keep her safe… from Aleksander. Down there led to a path of being hunted, trained viciously and a life under the thumb of a woman she didn’t fully trust.

She turned and looked to the left path. She didn’t know what was down there or where it would lead out… but it was an escape. It was a path away from Baghra and away from Aleksander and the Little Place. She would still be hunted, but it was also freedom and a return to Mal.

Mal… her oldest friend, and the boy she’d loved for just as long… The boy who had left for the war when she’d done all she could for them to not be separated. The boy who had never noticed her feelings no matter how much she told him, dismissing it as the words of a best friend, and went out and flirted and fucked any pretty face he saw. The boy who had felt so betrayed by her being Grisha he hadn’t even written to her in all this time…

And still, he was her friend. And a part of her ached to see him.

But then, behind her… she looked back at the path from which she came. Behind her was her duty. She remembered in vivid clarity how not an hour ago, an entire hall of people, servants, Grisha and nobility alike had bowed before her and praised her a saint. They believed in her and trusted in – no, needed her to bring down the Fold tearing their country apart. Behind her lay her new friends. Genya, so strict and proper, yet sweet and utterly smitten with her Fabrikator. Marie and Nadia, who would worry about her and miss her so. She’d never had any friends that were girls before them, and it had been nice to gossip with them and feel… normal. For once in her life, she’d felt normal. Like this was how it was supposed to be.

Kissing Aleks had felt normal. It had felt right.

And yet, now she didn’t know what to think of him. The one thing she knew for sure was that he would never let her go. Not without a fight.

And she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to fight. Oh, she would fight tooth and nail if Baghra’s words were true, and he somehow tried to enslave her. But she couldn’t let the words of one person ruin how she saw him and what they’d had. She’d seen the proof that he was much older than he let on and that Baghra was his mother… But she needed to know more. She needed to know the truth.

And maybe it was a stupid decision to walk right back into the lion’s den, but maybe she had to take that risk. Part of her was desperate to know and wouldn’t let her go until she did. She felt something pulling her back the way she had come: an impulse, a gut feeling, an instinct. Like something was tethering her to something or someone back there, slowly luring her back in. She was drawn that way…

And so, she turned and took a step.

She sighed heavily, not even sure what she was doing.

And another step.

No path before her was perfect. But her heart yearned for answers.

And another.

She was going to have to find a way to survive this situation either way. And strangely… the best way to survive might be with maybe the deadliest of the lot. If Baghra was right, he needed her. Perhaps not in the way she’d started hoping he did. But he wouldn’t hurt her if he thought she was on his side. Maybe he’d see through her, but maybe he’d let her play along. Some kind of unspoken truce where they both had the advantage over the other.

But she was getting ahead of herself. She didn’t even know if any of this was true. And even if he was the Heretic, no one’s stories matched up.

She just… she wanted to know the truth.

It took a while for her to weave her way back through the narrow halls, and she had trouble remembering the way once she came to the door where Baghra had left her. It was all empty now, and she took a moment longer to stare at that ancient painting once more, taking in every detail, reaching out to touch the familiar features. When she finally began moving again, she turned herself around a few times, ending up in unfamiliar passages a few times until she finally found herself at the stairwell she remembered. She climbed all the way to the top and along to where she saw that lever. It didn’t take much to reach up and pull it. The metallic sound of creaking of gears filled the space, and the door swung open.

Cautiously, she stepped through the door and back into Aleksander’s outer chamber. All was quiet and still inside, the lights now dimmed. But chatter could still be heard beyond the door, the party still going on, oblivious to the fact that their Sun Summoner had been gone so long. Marie must have been handling the dinner very well.

But the lights were out… which means that Aleksander must have come back at some point and found her missing. He was likely out searching for her at the banquet, trying to see where she was. With the light out, she kept her own bright, looking out over the room. Her eyes fell on the irises left on the table.

The beautiful flowers he’d presented her with, out of nowhere before sweeping her off to his suit mere hours ago now. Her favourite flowers, no less. She wondered how he’d known or if he’d even known at all. Despite the turbulent feelings raging within her, she still remembered her elation when he’d handed them to her, and she found herself picking them up and pressing them to her nose once more. They still smelled just as sweet.

…This was a stupid idea.

Looking back to the secret door, she thought for a moment that she could still go. But she’d come back for a reason, and now that she was here, she wanted to see it through.

She also noticed, though, that the door wasn’t closing. The lever in the passageway was obvious, the one inside was not. And after a while of searching, she still couldn’t see anything. She supposed that Aleksander was just going to have to close it once he arrived. She didn’t plan on keeping her knowledge secret. She wanted answers, and that required the truth.

She wandered around the room for a while, looking at everything around her, including his papers and books, as if that would give her some kind of hint as to the truth. But everything out here gave nothing away. Of course, he probably wouldn’t hide important secrets on something so easy to access as a private bookshelf.

After what seemed like hours, she was more than bored. She was exhausted, having kept the orb of light going for so long. A record for her, most certainly. She was starving since she’d skipped the dinner. And she was honestly getting sleepy, almost nodding off while reading through his books. She had no idea what time of the night it was.

But falling asleep on the floor of his outer chamber was probably not the smartest idea. Slowly, she moved into the bedroom. The doors were wide open, and she could see his grand bed at the end, much like hers, only with dark sheets. But what did she expect? Black was his colour.

What she didn’t expect was the mass of papers that littered one side of his bed, though. As if he’d chosen to sit there and sort through them instead of at the large desk she knew sat just out in the other room. Curiously, she sat down and began picking up papers and reading them. Most of them seemed to be plans and details about the Fete. Others about the general activity of the Grisha both out in the Second Army and here at the Little Place. There were a few letters and reports from and about a Heartrender called Nina who had gone missing. And most interestingly, there were a few pages of maps and sightings of Morozova’s Stag.

…Baghra had said something about her leading him right to the stag. She wasn’t sure what it had to do with her, though. But it was clear that he was at least looking for it. It made her wonder why he would need an amplifier. He was already so powerful… And if he really was the Black Heretic, even more so than anyone could possibly imagine.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in his rooms now, but it had been hours, and he was still not back. And soon, she found that the monotonous reading, the exhaustion of the day, and his very comfortable bed were the perfect recipe for her to slip off into the darkness.

Author Note:

Hope you enjoyed the start of this one! Things are going to split from the actual plot radically from here on in!

Chapter Index  |  Next Chapter >>

Trapper Mugo

Species: moth

Design based on (kind of): Brindled green moth

Birthed at Highgrove but moved to Hallownest when fairly young, Mugo started taking interest in critters that lived there. Some time as a teen, he met the Hunter and the two talked about the journal. Mugo gave the hunters journal a try but quickly realized he has no thrill in killing the critters he encounters. Instead, he wanted to study them eventually started making traps and such to capture them instead, finding the cunning of the hunt to be more interesting than killing. Likewise, he liked exploring the flora and fauna of Hallownest. It use to be a lot more exciting before it all got infected...

As a young adult, Mugo found himself at the Colosseum of Fools during one of his travels. There, he met his future boss, Boss, a mechanic that works on the stage setup during the battles. She recognized his skills and understanding of critters so she hired him to capture and bring them for the coli fights She also build and provided mechanics for the traps needed. It was a learning experience but Mugo eventually grew to enjoy his job.

During one of the busy days at the Colosseum, he learned it was visited by the group of nobles called Magnolia family who stayed at the City of Tears at the time. He was curious about them as they come from the same kingdom where he use to live but has barely any memories of. Alyssum, a butterfly from the family, noticed him and the two started chatting when other nobles weren’t around. The two were completely different worlds so they just clicked in the conversations. Mugo was head over heals in love with Alyssum and she warmed up to him as well during the Magnolia family’s long stay at the city.

The two dated, meeting mostly at night and deep within the city on their own, just being in love. As the time went by, Alyssum started to try convince Mugo to come with her, become part of the Magnolia rule and family and live as a noble by her side at Highgrove. However, over time of the two dating, Mugo learned the family was rotten business and trouble so he kept refusing her offer, countering it with his that she should stay with him instead. Alyssum also refused, losing her patience, demanding for him to join her side, showing that she had no intentions in losing her status in a ruling family of another kingdom, claiming that her wishes should be final. This hurt Mugo but made it clear they will stick to their own viewpoints that gave more strains on their relationship that slowly started to fall apart.

Argument after the other, the two broke up on bad terms in a fight, Alyssum scaring his face with her magic as he tried to escape from her possessive act. Heartbroken and injured, Mugo retreated to lake of Unn for some time to be alone. They haven’t heard from one another in quite some time after that until Alyssum sent him a letter to meet her at the Crossroads as one last attempt of “mending” the relationship. Mugo never showed up. As things became hectic within Hallownest, Alyssum eventually left and Mugo hasn’t seen her since and many years passed...

Mugo fully focused on his hunting business, changing tactics, trapping and alike as things within the kingdom changed as well, filling his journal and notes with useful info about every beast and critter, their tricks, weaknesses and strengths and how to deal with them. He worked alone and did everything as a lone wolf unless the task requested a group work.

After meeting Rham and Yonna on the way back to Colosseum one day, he learned he missed companionship and friends, growing rather close to both, feeling welcome and happy for the first time in a long while.

---

Characteristics:

+: Adaptable, intuitive, strong willed, helpful -: Withdrawn, vengeful, clings to the past, somewhat harsh n: cunning, fair, righteous 

Inventory:

Spendable/Consumable: 

Sweet root: A root equivalent of a sweet snack or an energy drink, depending on how much you eat it. It’s not very favorable but it’s VERY juicy and sweet! It’s like sugared water. Mugo LOVES these. Often replaces them for actual food which isn’t healthy.

Lifeblood gel: Made out of herbal roots, hot spring water and lifeblood seeds. It’s for external use ONLY and heals wounds faster~ Can’t mend any internal injuries though. Too much application might worsen the healing, especially if wounds aren’t properly cleaned first.

Spare Lifeblood seeds (for now): Because who doesn’t want to have the marks of the heretics around, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Known to drive regular bugs a little… ditsy or delusional if eaten raw. Good for internal injuries but one won’t be able to get back to their feet easy for few hours.

Sleeping Pollen: Collected from a specific plant, causes drowsiness or sleep when eaten or inhaled. Too much of it can knock out a person for hours.

Numbroot: Extremely bitter but nothing subdues pain like few bites from it. Internal use only. Too many bites lead to full numbness for couple of hours. Some factions of other kingdoms use the extracted liquid from it for assassinations. Mugo takes bites of it to kill off his back pains…

Stinger ivy extract: A potion of a sort, made by the shamans. He isn’t sure what’s mixed in them but it helps recover from electric shocks and stings. Has one spare bottle just in case, as he avoid any charged lumaflies if he can. Didn’t seem to use it in recent shocking events but decided to walk it off instead…

Fog mushroom: A specific type of fungi that lets out a lot of smoke when placed near fire. It’s like a fungi fog machine if thrown in fire, easily covering a lot of space in thick, funky smelling fog. Mugo uses it for hunting belflies who rely on the sight. (he can see their glow but they can’t see him coming for them with the traps~)

Ember seeds: Plant seeds that pop and crack loudly when near heat or in fire. Good for scaring off large critters away or in specific directions (like where traps are set~)

Odor bomb: Kept in the palm sized round chestnut like shell, it’s a mix of collected, specific droppings that have a strong scent. To some critters, it’s a sign to get out of there and to some, it’s a wonderful bait to come close to…

Hive nectar: EXTREMELY RARE, a gift from someone, owns just a small pill size with him. It speeds up recovery and healing of any sort, even from the illnesses but only for less than a day which is often enough to pull someone out of a critical state. Carries it and keeps it with him at all times for most alert emergency.

Items:

Traps, nets and gadgets (only during hunting): Depending on the errand at the time, the types and sizes of them vary and he carries only essential ones for the job.

Two large nails the same size and look: The nails are long with short handles. Uses to both fend himself and to agitate critters when necessary or activate traps from the distance. Uses one for shield and other for striking but isn’t a very good fighter, only super fast on reactions and saving his husk.

Emblem of White Magnolia: a necklace with a pedant that’s always around his neck, gifted by Alyssum. Unlike the original Magnolia family symbol that has pink hues over the flower petals, the white one represents Alyssum’s faction of the family. Always keeps it around his neck, hidden by Mugo’s thick mane. 

Forsaken Dagger: Carries Taka’s ashen essence, named purely out of troublesome events it caused to the group. Have yet to be examined. After paying Sly 2000 Geo for it, having it be stolen minutes after, taken to the dream realm to cause problems to Taka and then taken back only to end up in Mugo’s hands again, he’s not too trilled to have it but has to.

heavenlyfury replied to your post “Another merge project complete, and this time, we have the illustrious...”

An impressive unit, and what a character! My issue with Edelgard is, as much as her goals are noble and understable, her actions are just... Very unreasonable? Like she could have done things very differently in order to get what she wanted, and I simply cannot fathom why she thought Those who slithered in the dark were better allies than the church. Like, you don't trust Rhea, I get it.

But did she expect to wage war on the entire continent, basically alone (without diplomatically support), before taking on an enemy that has NUKES? Like those priorities are all kinds of wrong! But I still kinda love her intensity and the ambition, the idea of making her a different kind of protagonist. Anyways, congrats again!

Thank you.  Edelgard is indeed pretty huge as a unit.  Anyway, the short version of this is “no one’s wrong for having issues with Edelgard and her approach,” but I do have a lot to add in here.

I’m going to try going through this in order, but I’m building this as I go so bear with me.

What was her alternative?  On the one hand, we know from experience that Rhea doesn’t want to lead, and passes the torch off to Byleth immediately.  That could’ve happened in the near future for the CF route as well, even without Edelgard instigating war.  But how would she know that?  Edelgard has no way of knowing, or believing, that Rhea would cede power.  She’s also got her own experience seeing her family’s power usurped by the nobility, who then immediately abused that power, and resulted in her and countless others being tortured for crest research.  From her own experiences, it makes sense that she’s not willing to wait, and believes no one would accept her proposal if she were peaceful.  And in that last part, she’s...kinda right.  Rhea would cede her power to Byleth, sure, but she wouldn’t be willing to undermine the system she established to maintain peace and safety for herself.

Diplomacy sounds good, and is always the preference, but from Edelgard’s experience and point of view, she’s seen how awful the nobility is, how awful the system Rhea created is, and has seen how hard she cracks down on anyone who goes against that.  Lonato’s little rebellion is immediately and violently suppressed, getting the innocents under him caught up in it as well.  Hell, his son.  Allegedly, he was executed for participating in a conspiracy to assassinate Rhea.  Which directly mirrors something that happens after we beat Lonato: we find that document about a plan to assassinate her.  But that turned out to be nothing, everyone saw right through it and identified that there was an alternate goal.  Everyone...except Rhea and those working in the church.  So how likely was it that Lonato’s son was actually going to do anything of the sort?  Was his execution just?  Was the execution of those in the Western Church just, considering they didn’t do anything particularly violent, they just used an opportunity to break into the vault and attempt stealing a hidden relic.  Rhea may not be directly violent and out burning villages and slaughtering innocents for funsies.  But she’s not exactly merciful, and will go hard against anyone who opposes what she upholds as necessity.  Why would Edelgard assume diplomacy would work?  Wouldn’t trying to be diplomatic by undermining the teachings of Seiros to suggest an alternative get her branded a heretic, and have the entire might of the church against her?  At best, she’d lose her chance at returning power to the throne, and the corrupt nobles who allowed her family to be tortured and decimated maintain their status.  At worst, she could be executed for the crime of going against the church on top of that.  We don’t know for sure, we don’t see any of that play out, but from Edelgard’s perspective, they’re not likely to respond, and giving them that advance warning lets them prepare, and the Church is still the seat of power in Fodlan.

Which brings us to the Agarthans.  Yes, Edelgard siding with them seems incredibly stupid.  And it is infuriating, knowing that what happened to her was directly their fault.  Which is something she’s aware of, mind.  The Crimson Flower route makes clear that they don’t trust the Agarthans at all, it’s a temporary alliance to face off against a more threatening foe.  Which...honestly, is fair.  Aside from the fact that the Church has the strongest standing army, there’s Rhea to deal with.  In Verdant Wind and Silver Snow, we see Rhea, in dragon form, caught in the blast range of TWO of those nukes, and she doesn’t die.  That should express the level of discrepancy between the power of a dragon, and the power the Agarthans have.  It took two nukes to injure her.  What are general human tactics supposed to do against that?  Against not just the human forces among her ranks, but also the golems she has under her command?  Their power is, in fact, a necessity to face off against this combined power.  Though I will fully admit that they could’ve done a better job of having the Agarthans directly involved in the fights.

As for why is she still willing to accept that help, despite them being the most directly responsible...ultimately it comes down to seeing beyond herself.  Yes, the Agarthans are a problem.  They are the most directly responsible for her suffering, Lysithea’s suffering, and are the most direct cause of bloodshed in the narrative.  But consider.  The Agarthans’ crest research is something that’s accepted by the nobles in the empire.  It’s not like they didn’t know what was up.  And society at large values crests so significantly, that the idea of being able to imbue others with that power, and creating people with two crests as weapons, is enticing.  The Agarthans are directly responsible, but the nobility is indirectly complicit in atrocities for their own gain, while the church created the system that places value on the kind of work and ambitions they have.  Crests are important, controlling crests and their power is the basis of society.  You have to beat that system, which Rhea is the head of.  And consider that when Arianrhod was nuked in CF, Edelgard is legitimately surprised.  She likely didn’t know the Agarthans had that kind of firepower, which contextualizes a lot.  Rhea’s a huge dragon, who even the Agarthans are scared of despite their advanced technology.  But their advanced technology is mostly duplications of the divine weapons, which means their power is roughly equivalent to yours.  One is a massive threat well above your level of power, and the other is roughly equivalent.  You want both dead, but the equivalent foe is willing to back you to take on the much stronger one.  You gonna say no?

Anyway, let’s say Edelgard did address the Agarthans first.  Just broke in and cracked Thales’ skull open with Aymr and took a shit right on his floor.  What then?  You took out those responsible for the direct application of atrocities, but the system that permitted it is still in play, run by a super powerful being you can’t defeat.  Consider what happened with Miklan; effectively disowned solely for not having a crest, and driven to what he wound up doing.  He was a bastard because of the environment he grew up in.  The system as a whole breeds the kind of resentment and power-seeking ambition that Miklan displays.  So if she does kill off the Agarthans right away, but then can’t take out Rhea...what did that accomplish?  Temporary reprieve?  Because the system still permits for people to perform blood treatments, and implants the desire to do so, because it values crests and their power above human life.  You’re not getting to the source of the issue any other way.

Not to get too political on main, but it’s kinda like what we’ve got going on in the US right now.  People are recognizing that it’s the entire system that’s the problem.   The system is corrupt to the point it produces these problems by design.  Simply firing a few officers won’t fix police brutality, racial sensitivity trainings won’t fix inherent discrimination in the system, etc.  The system has to go.  And trying to address it around the direct issue with these calls of “just go out and vote in people who will fix it!” isn’t sufficient.  A changing of the guard in the same system will yield the same results.  The system of nobility and how it’s determined is the problem in this scenario.  Changing out who the nobles are isn’t going to fix it, you have to dismantle the concept of nobility and create a new system in its place to avoid this just happening again.  That’s the crux of Edelgard’s motivation.

I think people get annoyed with the Agarthans because they consider her motivation a personal one.  And to a degree, it is.  She was directly harmed by their actions, and by the system that permitted their actions, and of course must have personal feelings regarding that matter.  But Edelgard is someone who looks beyond herself and her immediate pain to look at what is necessary to accomplish a broader goal.  It goes so far that she’s willing to work with the people who caused her harm, if it means preventing harm to others by dismantling the system.

The real question is whether the outcome she hopes for is realistic.  She’s essentially creating a single locus of power, just like Rhea did, and hinging all of the future on that locus of power doing the right thing and continuing her work.  Because she doesn’t stay in power either, she steps down.  All it would take is one person gaining that same level of power, but having completely different views, to undermine everything she’s done.  Not to mention her goal seems to be creation of a meritocracy, which sounds great, but plenty of places in the world right now say they have that and how well is that going?  Merit is often determined by experiences, which in turn is directly influenced by wealth.  While the concept of “nobility” may be erased, unless that includes redistribution of wealth and resources for the common good, people who were once nobility still have an advantage and will remain on top.  I mean, god, look at Ferdinand’s suggestion of free public schooling as a means of determining merit for those who should lead society in political life.  How’s that working out now?  The US education system’s sure doing great with making sure things are equitable because it’s free.  There are a lot of factors to consider, and Edelgard’s current assessment of where to go once she wins isn’t fully formed, which means whatever system she creates is likely to be imperfect as well.  Not to mention a system built on a mountain of corpses might have some moral quandaries to wrestle with.  But if the alternative is keeping the current system because “She doesn’t have a better idea,” then I’d say she was right to act.  You can’t let something awful continue just because you can’t fix every problem at once.  Something needed to be done, and someone needed to take that first step toward true change.  Edelgard was willing to be the one to take that step.  So while there may be problems to her approach, problems which she openly acknowledges and identifies, I think it’s better that she’s willing to go forward with a plan to enact change and try something, instead of just sitting still, letting things continue, and doing nothing but “sending thoughts and prayers.”  Sometimes there is no good solution, and you can’t just sit around theory crafting until you’re certain it’s going to work.  Sometimes you just have to act and do your best to get the best outcome.  And that’s what Edelgard does.  And I love it.

; about Spira - through the Fiends Tales

I said I would have done it, and here it is. While not being a very good in-game mechanic, one which can even be soft-locked in case YRP level up too fast, the Fiend Tales in FFX-2 aren’t completely silly, or useless in my opinion. They offer much to think about, mostly because they do reflect a non-idealized vision of Spira -- contrary to what Tidus’ POV may offer us, before shifting into something else, something bigger and closer to reality. The Fiend Tales are, in fact, stories of Spirans, people who died somehow and turned into monsters -- some before, some during and some other even after the events of both FFX and FFX-2.

They narrate their tales to Yuna, presumably (she has to catch them, after all), and find a way to either ascend to the Farplane or to avenge their death, if violent one. They are common folk, priests, heretics, Al-Bheds, elders, children even -- !  What I found fascinating was that their tales did offer slices of common life of all major Spiran cities, routines, dangers for certain workers and habits, even traditions... all part of a Spira we haven’t really seen in-game; for what use is a firework festival in Besaid to a future Summoner or their Guardians ready to eradicate Sin, for example hmm ?  Yet it exists, in the FFX universe. SO. I decided, for rp sake and to also make things a tad tidier, to list and explain here some of the things about these Spiran Tales that I consider cute, funny, important or worth some more thoughts. I’ll leave the specific Tales next to the info, too.  

   --  Children in Spira attend a school, the Temple School. Obviously founded by the Temple, it makes sense it provides a basic education while indoctrinating them to Yevon -- which isn’t hard to do anyway, before and during FFX; orphaned children are also taken by the Temple / Temple schools, most likely trained to either become priests or warrior monks in adulthood. Monks, specifically, are trained to what gets called ‘Yevon Academy’, which prepares them for military life; its volunteers move to this academy and don’t see their family till they graduate, but can write them letters.  [ Doggo the Coyote, Big Mama the Protochimera, Jaws II the Xiphactinus, Happy-Birb the Peregrine ]

   --  The Tale of Happy-Birb is very sad, and refers to children and temple. I feel it gives us a good example of how hard life could be, for... a rather gifted kid.        “ I always kept to myself in a tiny room in the temple, staring outside my window. I had no friends, no family to look out for me. If I were to suddenly vanish one day, would anything be different? Since I was supposedly orphaned after an attack by Sin, I was raised in the temple of Kilika. They tell me my parents were killed by Sin, but I know it’s a lie. Why would I be the only one to survive? The monks told me I had to be strong to provide hope for the future of Spira. I didn’t want to go on living in such a sad world. So I decided to take a gamble. One night, I fled the temple. [...] But when I encountered a fiend in the woods, I froze. I don’t want to die, I screamed. I truly wanted to live. ” Don’t the monks’ words sound familiar, to you? It’s speculation, but it sounds like this child exhibited the potential to become a Summoner, his family refused to let him train as one and they were disposed of -- so that the child could come into the “custody” of Yevon and ‘provide hope’. Summoner potential isn’t hereditary, mind that, but you kinda get the mentality that might have made Braska think Yuna wasn’t safe in the religious capital of Spira. The boy, here, was just ten years old.

   --  Spira has a considerable amount of criminals, for a world that should - utopically, be united by the tragedy Sin represented for everyone. Thieves considering burglary their very ‘grand career’; killers having no remorse in deceiving old people to obtain their inheritance; Al Bhed hitmen sent to kill Yevonite children in temples or wandering priests, children kidnappers, kids thieves in Luca killing one another for money, etc.  [ Bulbasaur the Purpurea, Mittens the Couerl, Brick the Bicocette, Bolt Josh ]

   --  Engagements are a quite serious thing, considering a family could not bless the union if the suitor was of a lower class (even between relatively common people), or just too poor to be deemed worthy. A refined girl from a well-to-do family in Bevelle was forbidden, for example, to love a young sailor. Engagement rings are also a thing, and the Moonflow riverbanks are lovers’ favorite dating spot.  [ Frosty the Flan Pallido, Boko the Chocobo, Venom the Gucumatz  ]

   --  So many Tales from children, it kinda gives off a very sad vibe considering they too can turn and not reach the Farplane. Many are attacked by monsters, some lost in the desert, way too many others have drowned by the Moonflow when left unsupervised. One Tale tells even of a young thief, a child, who died in jail. Being Spiran kids seems dangerous.  [ Lesser Josh, Squelch the Amorphous Gel, Scooter the Vespa, Nexus the Dark Elemental, Widow the Black Elemental ]

   --  The Tales narrate of children’s stories and legends. To make their children behave, tell them to stay put and be good, else ‘they will turn into fiends’: the more they misbehave, the uglier their monster form will look. Another old legend says spirits of people who died a violent death make their way to the Moonflow to bloom with the moonlilies. I found this last one is very similar to the old bedtime story in the FFX novel, where Old Spirans believed the souls of the dead bloomed as flowers in the Farplane. With the advent of Sin, though, and the spread of religion, this tale was forgotten.  [ Petal the Ochu, Cyanide the Assassin Bee ]

   --  The Temple of Macalania is sinking, as Shiva’s Fayth is no more and there is nothing to freeze the lake now. Many people remained trapped in their rooms inside and died during the sinking, like some wives and children of Macalania priests, for example. The few survivors performed their funeral .  [ Mayo the White Elemental ]

   --  Apparently, people living near Gagazet have a rite of passage for adulthood, which takes place as a boy reaches 20 years of age. He must climb the peak of the mountain alone in the dead of the night and bathe in the first morning lights. Needless to say, it’s quite dangerous, but the Tale is pretty funny.  [ Wuff the White Fang ]

   -- The excessive usage of machina, by the time of FFX-2, is starting to pollute the water and air. It is said fish and birds are starting to suffer because of it.  [ Daisy the Haize ]

   --  The punishment for murder, in Spira, is execution. Hissss the Kukulkan was sentenced to death, mistaken for the killer when he was a mere witness of said murder. He spent one year in the cell of Bevelle -- most likely Via Purifico ones (all monsters in Via Purifico are people who were executed nearby -- aside from Omega who was taken to the ruins), to then being sent to the gallow.

   --  Malboros have very long lifespans. Their average one is about 300 years, and a legend says the insides of a Malboro over 500 years old are linked to the divine. There’s a legend of a monk who was swallowed by a 700-years-old Malboro, survived the digestive fluids and returned to his people with his battle garb still on.  [ Vape Nation the Malboro ]

   --  In Luca, if the Goers win Blitzball matches, pubs and bars offer everyone free drinks. In Kilika, instead, barmaids also dance, which is seen as quite the spectacle. Men usually flock to those bars to drink and also bring gifts to the most beautiful dancers, even ending up in fights for their attention.  [ Jub Jub the Archaeothyris, Venom the Gucumatz ]

   --  Religious Spirans believe in reincarnation. Yuna mentions it in the Ultimania too, referring to her father, and theorizing if, one day, she’ll ever have the chance to meet his soul again, born anew somewhere in Spira. It kinda goes against the principle of souls dwelling in the Farplane, but it’s useful to remember those are mere illusions anyway. A tale says that ‘when looking into the water of an oasis after a sandstorm, you can see yourself in a past life’.  [ Venom the Gucumatz ]

   --  Footage of Zaon becoming a Fayth exist, and are stored inside long-gone and deactivated machina still found near Zanarkand Ruins, which once served to protect the couple during the Machina War. One of these footages shows Zaon embracing Yunalesca, and her promising him her love and to return safely.  [ Punt the YAU71 ]

   --  Music seems important in Spira. Yevon Maesters hire musicians, since the most popular music seems to be Yevonite one -- religious, solemn type, played with harps, horns and strings. There seems to be an annual Yevonite concert for the Maesters too. Still, Spira’s most rebellious teens have started rejecting such old-fashioned music and guitars are spreading among youth nowadays. [ Casper the Lich ]

   --  At some point in Braska’s pilgrimage, the trio arrived in Bikanel and got separated. A Cactuar and Jecht met at the oasis; the man taught the friendly fiend how to play Blitzball and signed its ball.      “ A guy with a huge sword wandered into the oasis. He had strayed from his traveling mates, and he stayed with me for three days. He taught me how to blitz! We didn’t speak the same language but I had fun. I’m clumsy, so it takes a lot of practice to get better. He used to say ‘The only thing the untalented can do is practice!’ with a big laugh. [...] I heard a rumor that said he was dead, but it’s just a rumor, right? ”  [ Needler the Cactuar ]

   --  A Besaid Festival exists, and it includes a fireworks moment. While Luca has a Eating Contest, where the competitors have to eat 200 crispy-outside, juicy inside Luca sandwiches. The local champion was poisoned before the contest started. [ Akao the Sahagin Prince, Mr Creosote the Anything Eater ]

Updated Three Houses Top 10 Females List:

Just in time for International Women’s Day! I’ve been working on revising my list as much as possible in light of revisiting Three Houses, playing Ashen Wolves, and rethinking my love for each female character I put on my last list. I will this time do the my list from Tenth place to First place. Just a heads up my # 1 one spot has not changed so don’t expect some crazy surprise there.

Disclaimer: please don’t flame me or comment about how “WRONG” I am it’s just my personal opinion or preference. BE NICE! and maybe reblog or comment your favorite list if you’d like?

#10: Shamir:

My opinion Shamir literally has not changed. She is just a cool character, I love how despite her debt to Rhea she isn’t kissing Rhea’s ass like Catherine or Ciril. Did I mention I really don’t like them lol? She’s badass and she has an excellent character design. Perfect blend of sexy and badass.

#9. Bernadetta:

Bernie dropped another spot going from 8th to 9th. I still have an abundance of love for Bernie, and I want to protect her at all cost. I still hold the opinion that while she’s an absolutely hilarious character, she can still get repetitive and stale pretty fast upon replays. That being said when I was thinking of characters that might potentially drop to below my top ten I couldn’t reasonably see myself dropping her out of my top 10, as Bernie is still a genuinely enjoyable character, and I do have a soft spot for her.

#8. Sothis:

Unfortunately Sothis dropped down a bit no fault of her own, simply because I enjoy the ladies above her more. That being said I really do enjoy Sothis. Even though our time is brief with her, I really do love the snarky little goddess. It’s funny, last time I made this list I had gotten her Christmas altand expressed my excitement, but I didn’t have her Mythic version(aka original version). I just recently I finally got lucky, and pulled her Mythic version!

#7 Dorothea:

AHHH THE PITCH FORKS!! I’M SO SORRY!! I know! I know! WTF?! I honestly any think of a perfectly justifiable reason as to why Dorothea has dropped so low on my list. She went from 4th place to 7th place for those that don’t remember. I honestly feel disgusting for putting her so low....I absolutely adore her character, her design is absolutely stunning, and I still enjoy most of her supports, but honestly I can’t justify putting her any higher than the women above her on this list. Like many who have dropped lower in placement it’s of no fault of her own. I just happened to realize I love the women above her more. I still believe deserves all the happiness, love and care that she desires!

#6. Hapi:

Hapi is such a fucking gem, I don’t know if it’s just the dub but Hapi’s dialogue is just so ahead of its time period and I love it so much lol. She has some of the funniest quotes and her habit for nicknaming everyone is hilarious. I’m aware that it’s not a trait unique to her, but I’m of the opinion that her nicknames far surpasses Dorothea’s nicknames. Now if we we’re talking strictly design Hapi would place 4th out of entire female cast for me, and that’s impressive feat since Three Houses has an abundance of amazing designs. In fact if I was strictly talking design a lot of the placements on this list would actually change. For example Hapi would actually rank above Constance for me in terms of design, but is trumped by Constance in terms of character. I might do a separate list for “best” designs in the near future.

#5. Rhea:

I KNOW ITS BLASPHEMY I STILL have both Edelgard and Rhea in my top 5?!! As those who saw my last list can see Rhea’s placement has not changed. I love Rhea so much is because she’s the perfect foil to Edelgard. Rhea is an excellenty written character with a lot of emotional depth. She acts as a perfect foil for Edelgard’s character they are so similar yet so different. It also makes sense that she and Edelgard’s ideals would come to clash. I’m of the opinion that if Edelgard and Rhea just talked about their views it still would still not end well. Rhea sage guarded her fabricated history of Fódlan for a thousand years and would not just tell the truth because Edelgard called her out. She would’ve branded Edelgard a heretic and have her executed. That type of tranquil furry is honestly unsettling and I LOVE it. Btw the only reason she tells the truth in CS and VW is because in CS she doesn’t think she has much time left, and in VW she doesn’t have much time left and chaos is marching on Fódlan’s door. Likewise Edelgard would sympathize with Rhea’s past if she told the truth, but would insist that Rhea step down from power or tell the truth to the world which would still lead to conflict. I personally agree with Edelgard vision for Fodlan more, and personally think Rhea is unstable, and worst SOLE leader for Fodlan, but neither are evil people and I can empathize with their motives and reasons for doing the morally grey things they do. Neither of them “do nothing wrong” like people claim and in fact do a LOT wrong. It’s those wrong things they do that makes them intriguing characters, and more relatable. They also both have the potential to do so many good things for Fódlan depending on the route.

#4. Constance:

GOOD LORD Costance is truly a one of a kind. I was pro Constance since her design was first revealed in the Cindered Shadows DLC trailer. That being said never did I envision loving her THIS much! Her motivations are easily understandable, and her fall from grace makes even more sad when you realize that haughty attitude that she almost always has on display is due to her compensating for her lack of status. Constance is one of the funniest characters in the game to me and she came out AFTER the game lol. She’s an incredibly intelligent prodigy when it comes to all things magic yet she has this naivety that people are able to exploit like Yuri with the “bootlicking nobles” phrase. She takes it so literal that she tries it out for her self, and tries to make a way for the boots to taste better making it easier to lick their boots......I CANT EVEN!!... honestly Constance could top this list if it weren’t for her split personality..... don’t get me wrong her split personality when in sunlight can be funny every now and then, but honestly it does more harm to her character then helps it in my opinion. Her change in personality when in sunlight is implied that to be because of the trauma of the fall of House Nuevelle, but we never get any real explanation for it or anything implying she can overcome it. Its not expanded upon, and never treated seriously. In fact it’s played for laughs and it’s something people just accept as Constance just being Constance. I honestly felt Constance C rank support with Ferdinand was done so well. She calls him out for his usually insensitive comments about status and makes him regret his words immediately. I had so much respect for her in that moment, come the b-rank support she acts all submissive and praises the ground he walks on....which ruined the c-rank support for me tbh. That being said, as you can see based off her placement this trait of hers doesn’t ruin the character for me, just keeps her from being higher.

#3. Petra:

On a much lighter note, Petra is my 3rd favorite! If you notice she has dropped down from my second favorite spot. This is due to no fault of her own I, just happened to realize that I loved my number 2 spot more. With that being said Petra has still gotten the victory! Like I mentioned in my first list, Petra is just a delight. I love how she’s so dedicated, and always willing to learn. Funnily enough my initial expectation for Petra’s character pre-release was vastly different then what her actual character ended up being. She’s one of those character’s who’s design got revealed MUCH earlier than any details about her personality and her design gave me the impression that she was the aloof, intimidating, and serious type that doesn’t have time for making friends or fun. I don’t know if anyone else got this impression, but obviously I was wrong! Petra truly does remind me a lot of Starfire from the original 2003 Teen Titans tv show and kinda re-awakens that childhood cartoon crush in me lol. Petra is just awesome there’s not a single support I don’t like of her.

#2. Marianne

Now if you saw my old list you probably noticed that Marianne moved up a bit. Naturally I still love her design(I’m a sucker for light blue hair I think lol), but upon revisiting Three Houses I realized that leaving Marianne at 3rd place somehow didn’t feel adequate. Funnily enough she was technically the first person I S-ranked in Three Houses due to locking myself out of the Crimson Flower Route on accident. Honestly she has become my favorite character to S-rank in Three Houses even more so than my number one spot! Anyway my love for Marianne is very different for most character’s as she is one I feel can really relate to on very personal and emotional level. I’m gonna get real for a minute. I honestly I had been in bad place in my life recently. I had been feeling like the world has been crashing down on me. I have plenty of things to be happy for yet I often felt depressed. I’d often had “friends” call me out, saying I have no reason to be depressed, or that I have been blessed with so many things, and while I agree I’m very blessed, they couldn’t understand how I felt, as all they could provide was the view of an outsider looking in. While the action of suicide was something I never considered, I’d had been contemplating the value of my life or if it was really worth living. First want to clarify that I’m in MUCH better headspace than I was then. I definitely feel like I’m getting better. I have my ups and downs, but I’m currently making better friendships, I’m actively getting the help I need! I’ve always sympathized with Marianne, but now I can say that I really empathize with Marianne. When we take things at face value she seemingly had everything going for her, being brought up into the nobility, trained for success, and even having an extremely rare crest. By all means to an outsider looking in she had every reason to be happy. Of course while all these things sound nice especially in the context of the story they are in actuality a source for her depression. In her C-rank support with Ferdinand we see his confusion as to why Marianne dislikes being a part of the nobility. This support is one of the few times she expresses real anger, and is when expresses she never got to have what she saw as a normal life, she never wanted to be a part of the nobility and the weight and the expectations of being nobility was crushing her, as she had to adhere to standards of those around her. She was also taught to fear her crest as curse, so the blessing many commoners would be estatic to receive was thing she deemed as a curse. Over the course of the story and through her supports, Marianne begins to learn how to be more accepting of herself and gain more self-confidence. Naturally her timeskip appearance reflects this. She looks well-rested, expressive, and she genuinely seems more happy. I will never forget In her A-support with Byleth, that over the course of 5 years she had abandoned her depression and suicidal thoughts thanks to the genuine and long lasting friendship‘s she’s made and that she managed to uncover the truth of her heritage, and overcome the fear and hatred of her Crest. Her character arc is a very powerful thing to me, and is also example of what makes the 5 year timeskip so great. In addition to her character arc Marianne is just so cute, don’t get me stated on how adorable her habit of talking to animals is! Marianne is a fucking fantastic character and I love her so much.

EDIT: So I wanted to clarify that if I’m being honest Marianne and #1 spot are technically both tied as #1 me, and are so for very different reasons. For the sake of creating a Top 10 and to avoid a cop out list I chose to put her at second. To me Marianne is “BEST GIRL”. She’s my favorite female character to marry, she’s most endearing to me, she has like my third favorite female character design in all of Fire Emblem, and I relate to her on an emotional level. That being said this next character is “BEST CHARACTER” I like more for her role in the story, how her character is written, and how she was designed. Despite this I do not marry her NEARLY as often as Marianne. While I ship her with F! Byleth(OTP!) she’s not someone I personally would persue romantically. In other words Marianne is more my type and I tend to be biased with her while this next character is female character that I feel is the BEST WRITTEN and the female character I respect the most out of the cast.

#1. Edelgard:

Upon revisiting Fire Emblem Three Houses story as well as playing the Cindered Shadows DLC, nothing has changed, in fact my love and resolve for Edelgard has only been strengthened. I made a huge in depth posts for Edelgard a while back explaining her past, motives, and reasons for what she does. The posts had spanned multiple reblogs of details and clarification and I went over the typing limit in every single one. I won’t divulge further into all that. Like I mentioned last time I created my top ten list, aside from her being IN MY OPINION one of the best written female protagonists in Fire Emblem history, I absolutely love her design, its probably one of my favorite designs in all of Fire Emblem. That being said, If I had to say while she’s definitely close, she doesn’t have my all time number one favorite design, that spot goes to Azura from Fire Emblem Fates. Edelgard will always be my favorite Three Houses female character no matter what and I’m so happy she was brought into existence!

Well that’s my revised list, I had a lot of fun writing this list and I hope it was enjoyable for you guys to read as well! I would really love it if you guys comment or reblog with your own list of favorite Three House females! Y’know what?! Comment or reblog with your list of favorite females in the entire Fire Emblem franchise if you’d like! I’m very interested in seeing your lists Happy International Women’s Day!

Prompt 14: Part

Today was the day. Esredes took longer to get out of his bed than usual. It was the last day he would sleep in it for the foreseeable future, and he wanted to take a moment to let himself sink down into the mattress, as if to silently thank it for all these years of its service. When he finally did get up, he got to work quickly. He picked up the two large messenger bags he had- to think these alone would be able to hold every material possession he owned. There really wasn’t that much to pack up- his clothes and duplicates of his sword took up the most room. Beyond that, it was mostly his little book collection and journal. Packing only took twenty minutes, including pauses. And then that was it. All these years of this tiny little room, behind him with one large decision. So often had he longed for something less depressing than this little space, but when it came down to leaving it behind…. oh, he really didn’t want to. But he forced himself out the open space, down the hall, and out onto the familiar path of the mountain. He trekked through the entirety of the camp slowly and leisurely, spending extended moments inside most of the spaces and absorbing the memories, all the good and the bad flowing through him like water in an icy river. Once this was done, he made his way back to the center of camp, gazing out at the vast view beyond the mountain. He almost couldn’t bring himself to leave… “Esredes,” came a voice from behind, causing him to turn around and come face to face with the same man who had talked to him when the war officially ended and he felt lost. “Why are you standing there with two very heavy looking bags on each shoulder?" “I’m leaving today.” He told the man. “I’ve finally made up my mind. I’m going back to Ishgard.” The man seemed a little shocked at this. “I know you’ve been spending the majority of most days in Ishgard for a couple weeks now, but I didn’t think you would make up your mind this quickly.” “Yeah, me neither. But I’ve been busy each day trying to arrange things, talk to people, test if I can really walk on the street without a problem, experiencing the place for what it is now and for what I remembered. So far, somehow, no problems. And I’ve searched nearly every part of the city. No wanted posters. They must have complied with my request to take them all down.” “Glad they’re doing the bare minimum after pardoning you.” “Right.” He responded. “But after all of that arranging and water testing… Look, I know I shouldn’t. But I thought about it, a lot. And… I don’t think a better option exists. The thing is, the new government asked me to help them out quietly for payment. Enough payment that I might be able to slowly rebuild from nothing. And while I could just become a mercenary or sellsword and wander to avoid Ishgard, I honestly don’t really want to. Last time I pretended to be a sellsword obviously didn’t go well, and that could be dredged back up. It won’t be something that really makes me feel alive. And any other kind of work is a fat chance. I don’t exactly have any credentials besides a stripped military title and being a rebellion commander for years upon end.” He let out a sigh. “The Far East is even worse. A fresh start in a land where I have nothing but my form and my sword to help me. And then there’s staying here… the most peaceful of all the options, but I would get restless. Part of me would love to stay, but I know I will feel unfulfilled doing nothing but hunting to survive and hearing the updates on Ishgard from the sidelines, forever just doomed to live in the wilderness as a nothing separated from civilization. …It’s a weird feeling.” He said. “I know Ishgard isn’t trying to get me to come back because they want me back. I know it’s just a move on their part so that I don’t do something dangerous with the information I have on them. But even just pretending that they think I deserve to be a legal person again is surreal.” “What if it is all a trap?” “If it’s a trap I am not ready for, that is that.” He said. “At this point, I don’t think it makes a difference if I die out here or in there. At least in there, there’s a chance there will be consequences for it.” He shrugged. “Like said, I know it’s not ideal. But we lost. There is no ideal option left for us. So I’ve resolved to play the game they ask of me, for now. They know they’re playing with fire, let’s see if they get burned or not, hm?” He offered the man a small smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t go into this without the ample number of shields and safeguards, and I will spend each day getting more. I can’t have them get the jump on me without making it a challenge.” “Well, if you’re saying this now… something really must have sparked you.” The man remarked. “You were so lost on that day before you got the announcement. Now you seem almost confident. Honestly, I am glad for you. I know I can’t change your mind, and I trust you to be careful and cautious. So if you’re truly prepared to go back… I expect you’re going to make the most of it.” Esredes smiled back. “Your confidence in me is appreciated.” Though it was not but a few moments later when another person emerged. And another, and another. Soon he was surrounded by people who asked first if the rumor was true, and then all took turns wishing him well in Ishgard. “If anyone tries to give you shit, tell me and I’ll move right next door to you, all right?” One person teased. “Please be well. We’re all counting on you, Esredes. You’ll make everyone proud.” “Try to enjoy what’s still there to enjoy. You deserve it after all that’s happened.” Esredes’ eyes almost welled up with tears. He had not been prepared for all this sentiment. “I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you, everyone. I promise I will visit frequently. I’m not truly disappearing on all of you.”

Once he finally took off, it was a lone wyvern in the sky carrying his bags with much more ease. The ride to near the gates of Ishgard felt like the loneliest one he ever took.

It wasn’t too late to turn back and remain in the sanctuary… but he pressed on and kept going until he arrived. Until he walked once more through the gates of Ishgard and across the bridge, an action he had repeated just enough times by now not to be afraid anymore.

Twenty minutes later, he was pushing his way into that empty house that was now legally his, as of a few days ago, thanks to a lot of borrowed money from noble allies. His own key and everything… Gods, it had been so long since he had a proper door like this. Locking the door behind him gave him a weird sense of glee.

As he set the bags down, he looked about the mostly empty room. All it had were the cabinets and kitchen appliances built into the wall. Empty, but it was an upgrade from his camp room. So much more space to work with, even though it reminded him nothing of his former manor. Now it would be up to him to figure out how to fill the rest of the space… gods, when was the last time he had to think about furniture? It was years ago when he moved the desk and wall rack into his camp room. That was it. He had never had to actually plan furnishing an entire space- even one as small as this- ever before. It was almost overwhelming him already… He unpacked as much as he could, and not soon after as he contemplated where to purchase a sleeping bag was there a knock on the door. Esredes opened the door and a smile came to his face observing the one behind it. It was an ally of his who had managed to remain within the walls all this time. “I heard someone was moving in,” they said. “Do you need help unpacking?” “I just finished what I could on my own. It wasn’t exactly a complex job. Don’t worry about helping with that.” “Wonderful, that means you’re free now. This is a cause for celebration, Esredes.” They said. “Come with me. I have plans. I’m going to give you a good welcome back to Ishgard night. We’re going out to experience the best this city has to offer, and it’s all on me.” “Isn’t being seen out with me going to incriminate you as a heretical accomplice…?” “They can’t do anything about it now. You now have an erased record, so my record of helping you is also erased. Trust me, don’t worry about that, Esredes. I never thought a day like this might happen, and I’m going to make the most of it.” And make the most of it they did. Esredes was promptly dragged out to all sorts of places; teahouses, a restaurant for both his lunch and his dinner, quiet scenic spaces to sit by the fountain at nighttime, and practically the entire length of the Crozier. By the time it was late at night and he was back at his new home- thankfully having managed to obtain the sleeping mat he needed earlier- he was exhausted from all the activity. Ah, what a change of pace from being barely able to walk over the bridge. What a change of pace from having to lock himself in a room to recompose himself after Aymeric had told him he was free to live in Ishgard again. Esredes proceeded upstairs and rolled the futon out, changing into his sleepwear and settling in without another moment’s hesitation. Yet even despite his exhaustion, it took him a while to fall asleep. The silence of the unfamiliar, empty space was incredibly loud, and his heart pounded with anticipation of something happening. It took a while of listening to for him to drown it all out, and focus on falling asleep. Welcome home, he told himself soon before the abyss finally took him.