#he’s been beaten up by duty & destiny so much and even after he’s saved everyone there’s still no rest for him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bettsfic · 4 years

Text

nobody asked but here’s how i would have written it: star wars sequels edition

WARNING FOR TROS SPOILERS

(though they are somewhat hidden, because this is just what i wish had happened)

in the same way i re-plotted season 8 of game of thrones, here’s how i would have plotted the star wars sequels in terms of the basic beats of conflict, using the themes and characters already established.

the force awakens

more time spent on what happens between RotJ and TFA. the present narrative is interspersed with flashbacks to ben solo’s upbringing, so we see where the seeds of darkness grew from.

ben is a good boy who turns into something of an entitled brat. it is both everyone’s and no one’s fault. han and leia’s divorce. leia’s duties which take up most of her time. han running away from his problems, and both of them dropping him off with luke to be trained as a jedi, without regard to how his young mind perceives it -- a small betrayal, a change for which he has no explanation or understanding.

then there’s luke’s patient yet firm hand in teaching ben the ways of the jedi. ben wants to be special. he wants his power and potential acknowledged. he is the grandson of anakin skywalker, the greatest jedi who ever lived. but luke spends most of his time trying to teach ben humility. it only leads to ben’s teenage resentment.

they fight, and snoke comes to ben in a dream, offering him everything he desires -- he would be snoke’s one and only apprentice. he would be given access to power beyond anything the jedi could show him. he would be able to do whatever he wanted. and best of all, he would finally fulfill his potential.

ben says no, of course, because the dark side is Bad. but snoke keeps coming to him after every altercation with luke, until eventually ben’s resolve breaks, and darkness floods him, that’s how luke finds ben when he pulls his saber -- one foot in darkness. it’s the turning point that leads ben astray.

MEANWHILE throughout his and rey’s lives (here is where shit gets ROMANTIC) they’ve felt a bond with each other, though neither could explain it, and they did not know who rested at the other end of the bond. for years, they offered each other comfort in dark times, until kylo ren came around, and he shut their bond for good.

YES all of that goes in the first movie.

rey, finn, and poe’s narratives stay basically the same, except we establish somehow that rey has Fears about her identity and a sense of belonging, and those strings, if tugged properly, could bring her to the dark side.

i believe as a writer, an audience is far more apt to believe goodness than bad. they want to believe characters have good intentions and motivations. it is established that kylo ren is a big bad who has done awful things; that does not need expanded on. star wars has already done that with the original trilogy. we don’t need a reboot of the same themes that were relevant in 1977. what we DO need is a story about genuine repentance and forgiveness.

we expect kylo ren to kill han. it’s all set up. we think he is bad enough to do it, but we don’t want him to. he readies himself for it, han is waiting for it, but it doesn’t happen. ben walks away.

and yet! han still dies, from some lack of action from ben, so that he still sees it as his fault.

THEN he meets rey, and they know instantly what they are to one another. their bond reopens. rey asks him to come to the light, and he does.

the movie ends with a decent certainty that ben is prepared to shun the dark side, but now he’s up against snoke and the first order.

the last jedi

my major beef with the last jedi was that it was a waste of time. it was pretty, and the themes were woven pretty tightly, but ultimately nothing happened in terms of progressing the present story.

we open with ben solo firmly seated in the resistance, under the command of his mother. he is working to atone for his wrongdoings. leia has forgiven him; luke has not. more than anything, he wants luke’s forgiveness.

rey wants ben to train her but he refuses. he sees the darkness in her and he fears it will draw him back. also, he’s kind of in love with her, which is a Problem.

so rey goes to luke on ahch-to. she asks him to forgive ben but he won’t. she asks him to train her but he won’t. she spends time training herself, becoming attuned to the force.

MEANWHILE, snoke exploits rey’s fears. ben won’t have her. luke won’t have her. she doesn’t know who she is. she doesn’t know her purpose. she has all this power, and nothing to do with it. snoke promises that if she comes to him, he’ll show her who she is.

in a moment of weakness, she does. snoke takes her to palpatine, who tells her the truth: she is his granddaughter.

i know! it undercuts the entire theme of scavenger-to-hero, a nobody rising up from nowhere! just give me a minute!!

finally rey knows her place. her people. a name and where she belongs. after a lifetime of powerlessness, she is drawn to the idea of ruling the galaxy, of the sith lineage continuing in her. she tells herself it is because she is fundamentally good; she will know what’s best for the people. she’ll be able to make the good changes she wants to see. democracy is a farce, after all, and the only valid rule is that of a truly just leader.

empress palpatine is born!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! gimme that bad bitch aesthetic.

ohhh shit, says ben.

we are boned, say finn and poe (who are boyfriends, obviously).

big final battle in which the resistance is decimated. ben doesn’t want to, but he knows, to save rey and the galaxy, he has to open himself up again to the dark side, and hope that this time, he’s strong enough.

the rise of skywalker

now we have a setup for an actual conclusion that is not predicated on “win the war and destroy all evil” but forgiveness, redemption, and accepting the balance of dark and light.

rey has been training under snoke. she is now more powerful than she has ever been. she is potentially more powerful than anyone has ever been in the entire history of the galaxy.

snoke annoys her now. she kills him.

palpatine is useless to her now. she kills him too.

hux amuses her. she lets him live.

and then there’s ben. ben, who visits her through their bond. ben, who is a nuisance to her, a leader of a resistance that has no chance of winning. and yet, she can’t bring herself to kill him.

switch to resistance. luke forgives ben, and ben luke. luke and leia have decided that it’s their time to pass into the force. ben urges them not to -- there is too much riding on their advice and leadership, but they assure him he has everything he needs to end the war, and it is their time to go. they say their goodbyes and pass into the force together.

i know, with carrie’s passing, this couldn’t have happened this way. but! i am not considering practicalities right now.

back to rey. she knows the only way the resistance might become a real threat is through ben’s power. she begins beckoning him to her, using the same tactics snoke did -- he can become her apprentice, and it will not be how it was with snoke, but she will treat him as an equal. they will rule together.

ben is so torn!! 1) still stupid in love, and 2) it’s kind of his destiny? vader’s grandson and palpatine’s granddaughter. two leaders is a far more efficient system of government than ten thousand senators squabbling for eternity to make decisions. the galactic republic was peaceful, but that was only because it was powerful. there was still slavery in the outer rims. poverty. torture. disease. the galactic republic did nothing to help the people who actually needed help. as ruler, ben could help those people. he could do good.

he goes to her, defying poe and finn’s orders for him to stay and fight, and is immediately taken captive on the empress’s ship. she makes him wait in a cell for a long time, then demands his presence. he’s taken to her.

imagine: ben on his knees in front of the empress’s throne. handcuffed. ragged, defenseless. a lil beaten up.

and ohhhhhhh is he pretty, rey thinks. this is where it gets ~sexy.

ben tries to lock his feelings for her away, but she’s too powerful. she roots around in the force and sees the truth: he loves her, still, after all this time. after all she’s done. he wants his love to bring her to the light, as she once did for him.

but it’s a trick!! ben’s feelings are true, but he had only wanted to distract her. he breaks his bonds, grabs his saber from where it sat on her throne. they fight!!

obvs rey wins, but he was counting on that. she goes to give the death blow, but she can’t. she loves him too much. and ben knows she’s not beyond saving.

the resistance is battling the first order. they are losing, badly. in fact there’s no way they can win, even with lando’s civilian fleet. the only way to win is for rey to step down from power and call a stop to the fighting.

ben tells her that blood is worthless and has nothing to do with who she is. she doesn’t have to be a palpatine. she doesn’t have to continue the sith lineage. she is not a noble and just ruler --

she puts her saber to his throat for that one, but he backpedals

-- but she is not a jedi, either. they can be whoever they want to be. and where she belongs is with him.

she clicks off her saber. her face softens.

i can’t come back from this, she says.

i did, he replies. i’ll help you.

this is who i am.

it’s not. i promise it’s not. you’re rey. your parents loved you. i love you.

THEY KISS

ben feels a shift in the force. the light is overcoming rey. she drops her saber and lowers her hood. she looks so young and scared.

hux and his guards enter. a mutiny ensues while hux tries to take over the fleet and destroy the resistance for good. then he will take command and rule the galaxy.

they battle!!!!

at last, they kill all the guards, and back hux, powerless, into a corner. he has only his blaster, and it’s on the fritz. he smacks it against his palm. together, they kill him.

rey calls a complete ceasefire. the war is over.

epilogue:

A WEDDING!!!!!!!! with appearances by jedi force ghosts. everyone is happy. the galaxy is at peace. the end.

#tros #tros spoilers #reylo #my fic

74 notes · View notes

amusedyan · 5 years

Text

Just Like A Fairy Tale

Okay, so on my other account @elandvary, I added a thing to a concept submitted to @yandere-love-love-love about yandere Tamaki literally organizing a darling for yandere Mirio because he loves him, and I thought…fuck I want to make this an actual thing, so here we are.

Special thanks to @yandere-love-love-love for being awesome and letting people submit shit and also steal the crops that she tends for us. Bless you. And shout out, once more to Mod Kleos for being there for me to rant or ramble to, and being willing to figuratively dig into the archives for me.

With that said this is a bit of an odd piece because it’s got yandere Tamaki Amajiki as the main focus, but the main pairing is yandere Mirio and the reader, even though Mirio’s...love doesn’t come off quite as obsessive as Tamaki’s does, but you can see it peeking through the curtain if you look.

It’s your wedding day today.

You’d woken up late, for you, and had been preparing for hours. Outside your window you could see the church flooded with people and color. By now your husband-to-be would be there, waiting for you, perhaps making last minute adjustments with his adviser for your trip to the neighboring kingdoms.

It was perfect. Everything was perfect.

You were about to be married, to royalty no less! One day you were a slave and a nobody, and the next...the next you were having a whirlwind romance with a man straight from a story.

Your story...

You smiled to yourself.

A few months ago you were no one, you were beaten down- often literally- broken and dismissed. You were a shadow.

You were out looking for mushrooms one morning, the earthy, dirty smell in your nose- you had a million thoughts swirling in your head, and you wondered in an abstract way if those thoughts might lift you and fly you far away from your stepmother and your stepsisters.

And then he’d appeared.

Or, well, his horse had.

Mirio had appeared on his horse and he’d smiled at you, and it was like looking at the sun it was so brilliant.

You hadn’t recognized him of course, why would you? Grandfather might have once had a title and money but that had been lost and gambled away respectively by now- court was just one more story your mother had spoken of once, a long, long time ago.

He’d climbed down and you’d asked if he was lost.

“No, the only thing lost is the deer I was hunting. Has it come through?” He asked curiously, and you’d shaken your head. He’d sighed but didn’t look too disappointed.

Somehow nearly an hour passed before you heard the telltale screeching from your Stepmother and you’d had to excuse yourself. Mirio had looked alarmed and begged you not to leave, “I’ve duties to my family, excuse me,” you declared, arming yourself with the basket of morels and hurrying away.

It hadn’t occurred to you until later that you’d neglected to give the handsome stranger your name.

Your stepmother was endlessly cruel that day for your tardiness, but the stranger plagued your thoughts. How could he not? You were lonely, you were young, and you dreamed of adventure! A handsome stranger sweeping you off your feet would be a dream come true!

While you worked, it was easy to keep your head down and think your own thoughts and make yourself small. You were no more than a wisp of smoke until someone needed you for something. You had endless time to make up a life with this man in your head.

Just when you’d begun to let go of this particular dream some days later, a royal messenger had delivered the announcement that the Prince was holding a festival every night for three nights in the coming week. All the nobility, no matter how fallen, the messenger had sneered, were invited to come.

And so began the great Husband Race- for all of that week you were on your feet and had no rest, running back and forth and sideways to fetch this and fix that and mend this tear and tighten that corset. Your stepsisters fasted for the majority of the week to fit into the lovely gowns ordered on credit from the village dressmaker- to be paid for with the last of your mother’s jewelry, no doubt.

By night you worked by moonlight to mend something fashionable belonging to your parents, resizing and refitting and mending to fit you.

The first night of the festival your stepmother had declined letting you attend and instead dismissed you with a warning to have tea and warm baths ready for them in the morning when they returned. You’d been exhausted and hungry and so empty.

You felt so alone, sitting on the front steps all alone with your dreams crushed beneath careless carriage wheels. You’d cried, long and hard.

And then there was a shining light, and figure so bright you couldn’t look at it had appeared. It called itself a spirit of kindness and offered her a boon; the chance to go to the festival every night, a way there and a way home, even an outfit! And oh how wonderful!

“But why would you give me this?” You’d asked in awe at the new clothes and the glass shoes and the new carriage awaiting.

The figure had flickered, “your kindness deserves a reward,” it had proclaimed, and then sent her away with the final warning, “when the clock strikes 4 you must be at home. You will need time to prepare for your family’s return,” it reminded, and sent you off.

The kind spirit had sent you to your destiny.

The prince found you at once and his face had split into a grin. You’d returned it, at the same time sinking into a polite bow.

“Your highness,” you’d murmured, even as your heart pounded.

“Rise. Come dance with me!” He’d declared, and that dance had been so beautiful.

You talked the whole night, and when you didn’t talk to spent it wrapped in his arms, warm and strong.

“I’d hoped you would be here,” he admitted towards the end of the evening. You’d been eyeing the clock to keep an eye on when to leave, but his words made your stomach twist in knots.

“You did?”

“I wanted to see you, and I thought inviting everyone...” You’d raised an eyebrow.

“And if I had been a commoner?”

“Then I would have thrown a larger party for everyone in the kingdom.” He’d promised, and his seriousness had made you laugh.

It was getting late, you needed to leave.

“Will you get me some punch please?” You asked, for lack of a better exit. Mirio had gone off and you’d fled, something you were ashamed of now.

You made it home in time though, and you were on cloud nine as you prepared for your family. You made tea and little sandwiches and got their nightdresses ready and even managed to get a few hours of sleep before they returned.

“A little slut hung off the prince all night,” one of your stepsisters complained.

“Poor thing couldn’t get away.” You’d hummed but you didn’t give anything away. It delighted you, this little secret you had.

You all slept for most of the morning, but you got up before the rest to prepare for the coming night.

And once they were gone your carriage and your clothes and your shoes appeared, and off to the festival you’d gone.

The lights and the crowds and the music were just as gorgeous and dreamlike as the night before, and you quickly found yourself swarmed with dance partners. You danced with them until a strong hand gripped your elbow and declared “cutting in!” in a familiar voice.

“Prince Mirio!” You declared, going red.

“Wonderful to see you again!” But his smile was a little less happy now.

Of course he was angry, you realized. You’d sent him off and gone without a word- it was unspeakably rude and honestly you wondered that he was still bothering to talk to you.

The Prince led you away to the balcony from the night before and demanded an explanation. When you could offer only apologies it only seemed to irritate him. But he didn’t leave, if anything it only seemed to attach him to you that much more firmly.

All through the night he remained at your side, and nothing could dissuade him.

When it finally came time for you to leave, you had no choice but to run, ignoring his calls for you to halt. No guards chased you though, so you counted yourself lucky.

Home was a relief that night, and you soaked your aching feet for a bit before your stepfamily returned with more stories of the harlot hogging the prince.

The third and final night your prince was prepared. He said nothing of your hasty exit the night before, but there was a determination in his eye that would have made most women swoon with it’s intensity. Instead you bowed and asked him for a dance.

He’d let you get away with so much already.

For some reason he seemed to delight in the idea, and he didn’t hesitate to sweep you off your feet, just like he had for the last two nights.

When it came time to leave you excused yourself again, and he gave chase. But on the steps of the palace tar had been spread that nearly tripped you and sent you sprawling. You caught your balance in time, though, although the tar claimed one of your glass shoes.

“Please wait!” Mirio called behind you, but you didn’t stop and once you were in your carriage there was no stopping you.

If you’d thought things would settle after the festival, you were badly mistaken. By the next afternoon word spread that the Prince, your prince, was looking for you, trying to use the glass shoe to find you.

It was flattering, and the image of him tearing apart the kingdom for you...well it made your heart flutter.

But things don’t go well for you, and good luck doesn’t last. Your stepmother found your glass shoe. She was furious and locked you away in the closet so the prince wouldn’t find you.

But he did.

You don’t know what happened, except you heard voices, and then suddenly shouting, after a long time in the dark. Then the door opened and Mirio was there to save you.

He didn’t ask about your family. He didn’t have to. The state of the house, where he found you, well, that all said enough, didn’t it? He locked them away though, far away where they’d never hurt you again.

Mirio saved you- he locked away your abusers and brought you back to the castle- not as a servant, or even a whore, but as a spouse! He wanted to marry you.

And while yesterday it had seemed so wonderful, and today was even a dream come true, it was also very, very scary.

You loved Mirio, at least, you thought you did. And you were positive that he loved you. But shouldn’t you both wait? Was a month really enough time to decide to wed?

Those fears and thousand more was catching you and closing your throat, and your eyes burned with tears.

There was a soft knock on the door to your dressing room before long, and you gathered yourself enough to call out “come in.” There was a momentary pause before it opened, revealing your fiance’s dark haired companion.

There were whispers all among the servants about the creature called Amajiki. Mirio himself called him Tamaki and showed him now shortage of affection and kindness, and while he had always been quiet, Tamaki- as Mirio had insisted you call him- had never been anything less than polite.

He was a fae, you knew that much; his pointed ears and teeth and slitted eyes gave him away, not to mention his monstrous appetite. He considered himself close to Mirio, and Mirio had told you that they’d met as children. You’d wondered how old Tamaki really was, more than once.

His calm presence rattled you for some reason and you found yourself crying again.

“What is it?” He asked quietly, but it was loud in the stillness of the boidoir.

“Oh Tamaki, I just...well...it occurred to me how...perfect all of this has been, like something out of a book. And it’s a little overwhelming, you know? I’m about to be married, but maybe...maybe we’ve moved too fast.” You mused, wiping at your eyes again.

Tamaki was quiet for a moment before he leaned against your vanity and crossed his arms. He was facing the window, didn’t look at you, but at the church instead.

“Would you like to hear a story?”

And it was such an odd question, you found yourself startled. But you needed a distraction and you had some time, so you nodded.

“Once upon a time there was a fae child that was unwanted,” he began. “He wasn’t as beautiful as his brothers and sisters, or as clever, or as powerful. And the fae can’t abide by anything less than perfect among their own species, and so they cast him out. Didn’t even bother exchanging him, just...threw him away.

“The child was alone and scared and didn’t know anything about humans beyond what all fae children know- that they are cruel and stupid and ugly and less, and so he spent months avoiding them. But the winter came and the child was cold and soon began to starve. He went to sleep crouched under a log one night and woke up to blue eyes staring at him.” Tamaki had a small smile on his face now, and you realized that, no matter what he might think of himself, the fae was beautiful when he smiled.

“The little human prince of the kingdom found him and carried him to the castle, and demanded of his mother and father that the fae boy be cared for. The king and the queen were weak to their only son’s wants and gave in, and so the fae child was raised as a companion to the young prince.

“And the fae do not forget their debt.

“The prince grew up and the fae grew with him. When one day, several years later, the King and the Queen began to talk of marriage the prince was distressed, ‘I want to marry for love, Mother, Father,’ he declared,” and you could so clearly imagine a young Mirio swearing this to the austere Queen and King. You couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“The fae wanted to help. You see, he knew, more than anyone, about the prince, and what he wanted. The prince was shining as the sun, and had so much love to give; to force him into a marriage would hurt the prince, and the fae couldn’t have that.” A dark cloud raked over Tamaki’s face, fierce and brief, before he shook it off like it was nothing. “He spoke to the King and Queen and told them, in no short words, that the Prince would marry and he would marry well and marry for love if they left the matter up to him. And so a deal was struck.

“By night the fae scoured the kingdom for a suitable partner- they had to be nobility, and of a nature that the Prince would get along with, and more than that they wouldn’t interfere or find fault with the Fae at the Prince’s side. You can imagine what a chore that was.” His tone was nearly warm now, and although you were becoming alarmed at the direction of the story, you smiled.

“He got lucky,” Tamaki breathed, closing his eyes. “One evening he stumbled upon a dilapidated chateau, where a man, a woman and their young child lived. They were noble, but their title was only a title, with no money to back it up. The man lived as an artist and they were very poor, but very much in love. It was a home filled with joy and happiness, and the fae knew, with absolute certainty, that this was the child that would grow into the Prince’s spouse.” A chill settled in your bones, dread growing like a fungus. “The wife was kind to the waif that appeared at their doorstep and gave him bread and milk and a night to rest, and in the morning the little vagabond was a beautiful fae of shining gold who offered the wife a reward for her generosity: the guaranteed happiness of her only child. The woman was kind and good and loved the child and agreed. And another deal was struck.”

You knew where this was going.

You felt sick.

“It was an easy thing to make the wife ill. Humans are so...hopeless. The slightest sign of something wrong and they fear the worst. And when no medicine cures the illness, well,” Tamaki shrugged lazily.

He had killed your mother.

“Directing the widower to his new wife was another trick. A few dreams, a few illusions, some similarities to his dead wife, and two daughters the child’s age? It would have been a perfect marriage!”

“But it wasn’t,” you whispered, gripping your knees.

“No.” Tamaki agreed with a smile.

You know where the story picks up for a bit.

“Soon after the marriage the child’s father got sick as well,” you continued, when he made no move to stop you. “The doctors feared contagion, but the child knew it to be a broken heart. No sooner was he in the ground then the child’s hardships began.

“The family that should have cared for the child instead abused them, worked them like a slave and beat them like a dog. They were lonely and afraid and wanted to escape.”

“And then one day,” Tamaki picked up, “the fae advised the Prince to go for a hunt in the southern wood.”

Your eyes widened.

“Was everything...?”

“And the prince met the abused noble and fell desperately in love,” he interrupted without remorse. “But the object of his affections had to leave before he could get their name. So the Prince decided to throw a festival, three days long, for the nobility, in the hopes that his darling would appear.

“But on the first night, after an hour, the Prince became frantic. Where were they? Why haven’t they come? They were supposed to come! And so the fae stole off to the chateau and found the Darling sitting on the steps, crying like a child. The Fae disguised himself again and gave the Darling the means and the gifts to attend the festival as an equal and sent them off.

“For 2 nights he watched as the Darling and the Prince circled each other. But on the 3rd morning the Prince asked how he might find his darling or keep them from running away. The Fae advised him to paint tar on the steps to try and slow them down.

“But it didn’t work, not exactly. Instead it took the glass shoe that the fae had given them. But the Prince was hopeful- how many could possibly fit in the shoe? And so he sent out a decree that all must try the shoe on.” Tamaki laughed a little bit, “no one but the darling could have worn the shoes. They were very particular magick.”

“For the next several days they searched all together, until even the Prince began losing hope. But the final house, that fated chateau, approached. There were, at first glance, two women of age to fit the shoe, but neither did. And the stepmother claimed no one else to be in the house.”

“But you knew better.”

“I did. I claimed to hear crying and led Mirio to you so you could be saved. I lifted you from the mud of your old life and brought you to this shining new one. All for him.” That calm, reasonable if aloof tone dropped, and finally the fae turned his gaze on you.

“You call this a story? Well it is. But it isn’t yours. It’s his. And you will give him his happy ending or you will be just a footnote in that story, do you understand?”

You nodded, your fear a physical knot in your throat.

But then the monster was gone and the mask was replaced.

“Now get dressed. You don’t want to be late for the wedding.”

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #fanfiction #yandere fanfiction #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere tamaki amajiki #yandere suneater #yandere mirio #yandere lemillion #yandere reader

229 notes · View notes

good-rwbyaus · 5 years

Text

| Trial ask: An AU where Pyrrha is brought back as a champion of the light.

| A/N: an alternate ending to the Fall of Beacon. be careful what you wish for.

| Destiny | mod lilac | link to part b |

================================================ ‘For it is in passing that we achieve immortality…’ ================================================

Polarity was her Semblance. Though others only saw how it interacted with the physical world, in truth, it encompassed so much more. Her power guided her like how a ball bearing would follow a lodestone’s draw. It revealed paths to her when none were apparent. It shined like a beacon in the dark, allowing others to kindle their souls with its guiding light.

It was through its guidance that she knew she had two choices.

She could run, but that would mean almost everyone she knew and loved would die. Ren, Nora, Ruby, Jaune… All of them were still here, and once the plans Cinder and the Grimm had for Beacon came to fruition, nothing would remain.

She’d rather die than to let that happen.

A year ago, she couldn’t say that. Her heart was only dedicated to spear and shield. Her chosen path was to fight the forces of Grimm and become a Huntress. And then it got derailed when she met a blond boy acting pretentiously suave all those months ago.

It was to her surprise when her Semblance whispered to her that he was the One. Naturally she couldn’t believe it.

But he shined like his soul did when she unlocked his Aura that day. Every trial put in his way made him grow stronger and wiser, yet he never lost that kindness that made him him. Someone like Jaune…even if he were expelled from Beacon, he would’ve made his own path. She wished she could watch him grow further. She wished she could stay by his side.

A phantom softness on her lips came and went.

Her hand tightened on her spear as her Semblance drew the elevator up to the Headmaster’s Office.

She’ll buy as much time as she can. For her duty. For her team. For Jaune.

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

“PYRRHA!”

A bleeding hand jutted through a mangle of metal and mortar, glowing with an ethereal white. Emerging from the wreckage of what was once a rocket-propelled locker was a bloodied Jaune lifting himself from his confines, groggily standing on his own two feet. Crocea Mors lay embedded within the floor of the locker and through the rocket underneath.

“WHY WOULD Y-“

He wasn’t stupid. He knew why. It was because he was too weak. Because Pyrrha knew the best she could do was buy time. She would buy time for the people she cared about, even if it led to her death. That kiss…was goodbye.

He couldn’t accept that.

He might be weak. Stupid. Inexperienced. But maybe…with this power…

A white light hummed through Crocea Mors as he drew the blade out of its confines, exiting as easily as it had entered when he first summoned up the power through his body. The true face of his Semblance, his light that was kindled by Pyrrha’s own.

He lifted his head towards the top of the tower as flashes of flame and shattering glass danced within the clouds. “I’ll save you. No matter what. ”

With a burst of speed he never knew he could achieve, he charged forward from the wreckage and towards Beacon, praying he wouldn’t too late.

================================================ ‘Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. ================================================

“Do you believe in destiny?” She met Cinder’s glaze head on despite being forced to her knees with her cut Achilles.

The new Fall Maiden spoke in a quiet, deadly whisper, “Yes.”

The thrum of a bow.

An arrow of flame smoldered inside her chest, the acrid stench of burnt flesh filling her nose. Pain wracked her as her heart beat against the burning object, smoke filling her lungs and choking her from within.

When like poles were forced to meet, one must inevitably give way.

This was where her story ends.

“Pyrrha!”

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

No no no no no no!

“You’re a bit late, little bo-“

“Get away from her!” Crocea Mors flashed white as it left the confines of his hand, Jaune charging forward immediately behind it. Cinder cockily lifted a flame-covered hand to block his desperate toss in the cruelest way possible. It was what he predicted.

A half hour earlier, she would’ve succeeded. Now though…

The woman’s eyes protruded in shock as she was lifted off her feet from the aura-enhanced blade, the weapon piercing effortlessly through her hand and moving towards her chest. Woman and weapon crashed into the clockwork wall behind them and sent a cloud of dust and glass into the air.

He wrapped his hands around Pyrrha as he drew out his Aura again, trying to stimulate Pyrrha’s own Aura to heal herself just like his did for him. A soft white glow hummed around them like tiny stars dotting the night sky.

“You’ll be okay. We can fix this. I called Ren and Nora, Ruby and her team, they’re all coming. Just stay alive. For us. For me. Please,” Jaune knew how bad the wound was. The arrow went right through her heart, and even with his Semblance sustaining her as best it could, it was all a desperate gambit. He needed to hope. As long as Pyrrha stayed alive, there was still hope.

“That hurt.” A voice said grumpily, a hint of malice within the syllables.

His heart skipped a beat when he heard that voice. Floating out of the rubble was a worse-for-the-wear Cinder. Her eyes glowed a fierce orange as she lifted her left hand, Crocea Mors still embedded through it. Before his eyes, the blade of Crocea Mors, his family’s heirloom, turned into molten slag, a puddle of steel on the ground.

“Allow me to repay the favor,” she snarled as she raised both her hands, “You can both die together.”

He didn’t hesitate as he stepped between Pyrrha and the torrent of flame before them. Shield repelling the brunt of the attack, he drew his Aura out and channeled it around him and through the shield on him. And it still wouldn’t be enough. His shield buckled underneath Cinder’s fiery assault, molten metal dripping onto the ground every second. Any part of him that was exposed burned and charred, barely kept in check with the healing properties of his Aura.

He met Pyrrha’s eyes. Affection. Love. Sadness.

A wish. She wanted him to run.

“I won’t let you go. I’ll protect you, even if I die,” he said as the rest of the world ignited around them. Their small pocket of white slowly dwindled under the assault.

================================================ “Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee.” ================================================

He should’ve been safe. He should’ve never come back.

Why did he come bac- She knew why. If he didn’t come back, he wouldn’t be Jaune…

But it would all be for naught. She was going to die; she felt it. The way her heart struggled to beat despite Jaune’s efforts. The way her lungs cloyed with smoke. She was scared. She didn’t want to die, but more importantly she didn’t want Jaune to die either.

And he would be next to die once she passed on. The sheer rage in Cinder’s eyes at being beaten by someone she considered lesser would accept nothing less. Even now, his enormous font of aura was rapidly dissipating, their tiny bubble of safety diminishing second after second. And then Jaune would…

No. She won’t let that happen. She promised to protect him. Her body might refuse to move, but her soul – her very being – was still here.

She was going to die, but before she did, she’d burn brightly like the beauty of autumn leaves.

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

As the light of Jaune’s soul shined above her, it was like a veil was lifted off her eyes, revealing the truths of her Semblance and the possibilities hidden within. It was through Jaune’s power that she had that single revelation, something that can turn the tide.

Her semblance was not limited to mere physical law.

Polarity. She was one pole, and Cinder was the opposite one. Hero, villain. Peace, war. Defender, attacker.

All that was left was to let go.

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

In that moment, she took her last breath, and her heart beat its last.

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

In that moment, she was Aura, the Light of one’s soul that pierced the darkness. And she could see the Darkness behind the fiery death Jaune staunchly obstructed.

In that moment, she triggered her Semblance.

Polarity. Opposites attract.

Her energy burned away from the sheer expenditure of being a non-corporeal being in a physical world, but it was enough to bring her in front of a shocked Cinder. The power she had left wouldn’t be enough to finish the job, but she didn’t need to kill this harbinger of death to render her ineffective.

Her hand drew low as her Semblance brought the melted remnants of Crocea Mors into form. Her fingers wrapped underneath the hilt, and with a single thrust, she channeled her entire being into the blade.

She was Crocea Mors. And she brought Judgment upon the woman who destroyed them both.

Night briefly turned into day as brilliant white lanced through the night sky and then became no more.

A severed arm fell to the ground without fanfare, crimson fabric still attached. Its owner had been knocked a long ways off from the surge of power she demonstrated.

She was herself again, Crocea Mors once against a mess of barely formed metal. Her eyes gazed off into the distance.

Despite everything that happened - despite the exhaustion that made her want to close her eyes - she couldn’t help but smirk.

“Hope she has a landing strategy.”

“Pyrrha?”

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

“Pyrrha?”

“Yes, Jaune?”

“H-how?”

“I don’t know Jaune. Isn’t this your Semblance?”

He gaped at her, but then he saw Pyrrha’s lips curl up.

“Oh come on! That’s not funny!” Yet he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

She laughed, and he couldn’t help but laugh with her.

For a brief moment, everything was right with the world.

....But they couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room forever.

Jaune’s gaze turned to the lifeless body behind him, an arrow still stuck in her chest. He knew the answer…but.

“Are you…”

“…I’m sorry, Jaune.”

“It’s all my fault. If I weren’t so weak…”

“None of this was your fault,” Pyrrha cut him off, pale hand knocking against his shoulder, “You didn’t get the Grimm or the military to attack us. You weren’t the one who put an arrow through my chest. And I chose to be here. It was my duty to be here.”

“I could’ve helped shoulder that duty. If I had been here sooner…”

“I still would’ve died, Jaune…”

“You don’t know th-“

“I would’ve died. I can’t explain how I know…but I do.”

They quietly stood, neither knowing quite what to say, despite knowing the clock was ticking on their final moments together.

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

“...When Cinder shot me in the chest, I realized… I wanted to see you one last time.” Pyrrha sighed. She then glanced over at him pointedly and pursed her lips, “though you didn’t exactly come in the way I expected or wanted.”

“Oh come on,” Jaune whined with a slouch, barely suppressing the smirk he wanted to make as they settled into familiar banter, “I climbed Beacon for you! That’s gotta be worth something.”

“I didn’t ask you to do it. You could’ve just taken the elevator,” Pyrrha crossed her arms and lifted her chin with a huff.

“You mean the remains of the elevator that I had to charge through along with falling gears and glass?” Jaune rolled his eyes, “while the power was out?”

“Maybe you should learn to… ‘git good’ and learn how to fly under your own power,” Pyrrha floated an inch above the floor while waving a dismissing hand, “I’m certain Miss Fall can show you an appropriate landing strategy.“

“Well if you hadn’t sent her several miles awa-” Jaune paused as he saw Pyrrha wince, tiny flecks of light beginning to leave her form.

“I-It’s time, Jaune.”

Why…why did this have to happen?

His eyes turned red as he drew his arms around her. “It’s not fair. You are literally the best thing to ever happen to me. This…isn’t fair.”

Her hands wrapped around him, “And you, I. I don’t want to go.”

“Don’t…” He buried her head into her shoulder, not even bothering to hold the tears.

“…I wish I could stay, Jaune. All I wanted was to be by your side.”

“…” He couldn’t stop crying.

“At least whatever gods still exist gave me this chance in the end,” she whispered as she faded into silver particles. She pressed her lips against his cheek. “I love you, Jaune. I’ll always watch over you.”

“I love you, Pyrrha. I’ll protect everyone in your place,” he promised.

A brilliant smile shined before it faded into night.

#rwby au #rwby #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #arkos #cinder fall #mod lilac #longpost #alt title: the ending pyrrha deserved

74 notes · View notes

mdelpin · 5 years

Photo

Shadowlight Week 2019 Prompt: Dusk AO3 | FF.Net

This follows the events after His Own Destiny (Day 4: Command), High Hopes (Day 2: Symbols) and A Scent Like No Other (Day 1: Scents)

It’s Always Darkest...

Summary: They weren't there by choice. Nothing about this was their choice. But defiance leads to worse outcomes. At least they had each other. Kind of. A vague connection, flickering in and out like the dying rays of dusk, hoping for a dawn that seemed just outside of their reach.

Rogue couldn't understand anything that was happening around him. Jiemma was talking about implanting a lacrima into his body. Sting had been beaten in his absence, he'd accused Rogue of betrayal and was now refusing to speak to him. It was as if Rogue had somehow become trapped in some bizarre nightmare he couldn't wake up from. All he'd wanted to do was help a friend, sure he'd known there'd be consequences, but there was no way he could have envisioned all of this.

Sting's words had hurt him badly, and he knew that had been the intent. He'd been lashing out, and it was a testament to how deeply Rogue had unintentionally managed to hurt him. The last time Sting had sounded like that had been right after they'd found out what had happened to the Fairy Tail wizards. He'd broken down then as well, but this time Rogue couldn't help but feel a bit angry too. Rogue thought at the very least he deserved to be heard, after all, how many times had he listened to Sting when he'd tried to explain himself to Rogue? Wasn't he owed the same?

Rogue clamped down on his anger, realizing at this moment it was his worst enemy. He tried to put himself in Sting's place and he realized with mounting horror that Sting had every right to be angry with him. Sting had never shared a bed with anyone else, never let himself be touched by anyone but him or the cats. It was something special between the two of them, and something they both missed since they had been here. All that seemed so distant now, almost like another lifetime.

There had been so many nights Rogue had wanted to use his shadows to sneak into Sting’s room, if only for one night. The risk of being caught was too high, the consequences more than they were willing to bear. Gods, when was the last time they’d been able to hug, or sneak a kiss or even just hold hands? The only touches they’d been allowed in over a year had been in the form of punches and kicks.

And here he had thoughtlessly shared some of those same things with Minerva. He'd been selfish and had both sought out and offered comfort to someone other than his mate and Rogue realized with growing shame that he would be equally upset had the roles been reversed. He could have done things differently, he understood that now. He only hoped that Sting would calm down long enough to let him apologize.

He looked over at Sting and upon seeing the hard set of his jaw he knew without a doubt that his mate had come to a decision. All Rogue could do was hope was that it didn’t involve him.

Jiemma came back into the room and from then on the rest of that night was a blur. He implanted the lacrima into Sting first, and somehow he managed to remain both still and silent throughout the whole procedure, giving Rogue the false expectation that it wasn't going to hurt.

When it was his turn, Rogue wasn’t able to do the same. He screamed bloody murder and almost passed out from the pain. His body felt like it was being ripped apart when the scalpel cut through his flesh. The implantation of the crystal was pure torture as the opening was spread roughly to be able to fit the lacrima inside. His body fought against what it considered to be a foreign body, but the lacrima must have connected with his magic container because the next jolt he felt was from his body attempting to heal itself, much more quickly than usual.

Despite everything that had just happened, Rogue hoped Minerva had been able to find a safe place to stay and remain hidden from her father. As he had just proven, Jiemma was a sadistic madman, and Rogue worried about what he would do to Minerva if he found her.

Once he was satisfied they’d both survive Jiemma had Rufus and Orga help Sting and Rogue to their rooms.

They were given no chance to recover from their impromptu surgery. The following day Jiemma sent Sting and Rufus to find Minerva and bring her back, while Rogue was instructed to spar with Orga. Dobengal was dispatched with another satchel of money to pay the man Rogue had stolen the lacrimas from.

Even through the pain he still felt, Rogue could feel the difference in his magic. His first attack sent Orga flying across the room, something he'd never managed to do before. It was exhilarating, but also scary. Rogue quickly realized he'd have to relearn control of his magic if he wanted to make sure not to hurt anyone, and that was one thing he was determined about. He would fight for Jiemma and Sabertooth in any way necessary to fulfill his duties, but he refused to maliciously bring pain to another.

He continued to practice, both alone and with others, trying to get comfortable with his new abilities. It also helped him keep his mind off Minerva and Sting, who had yet to return, although he had no doubt Sting would find her. Lector had stayed behind, and he and Frosch were nervous, neither able to understand what was going on.

From Lector, Rogue knew that Sting had cried the night before he left and then had refused to talk about it. Knowing that Sting had at least shown some emotion made Rogue believe that he could get through to him if he were just patient.

He often wondered how he could have ended up mated to someone as stubborn as Sting Eucliffe, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Feelings weren't rational, and the truth was they brought out the best in each other, it was a delicate balance, but Rogue wouldn't have it any other way. He'd just have to have faith that all this would blow over soon and they could go back to the way things were. He desperately hoped so.

Sting and Rufus returned with Minerva two days later, her hands bound in handcuffs Rogue knew all too well. Her face looked like she had been in a rough fight and from the way Sting was looking at his feet, he had a good idea who it had been with. Rogue realized with horror that if Minerva had been the first person Sting had fought with his new abilities, he could easily have killed her.

Minerva stood up straight, her glare defiant as she waited for her father to acknowledge her, and Rogue was relieved to see her spirit had remained intact.

Jiemma struck her across the face hard enough to break the skin and Rogue flinched as he saw blood run in rivulets down her pale cheeks. She didn’t cry out, only stared at her father with a hatred that hadn’t been there before, making Rogue wonder just what had happened in the days she’d been gone.

“Go fetch your things, girl,” Jiemma barked contemptuously. “We’re going to go do some training.”

Rogue wondered what kind of training was involved, in the time he'd been in Sabertooth he'd never seen Jiemma practice with his daughter, and most training was done inside the guild.

For a second Minerva’s facade broke and she looked afraid, but she recovered quickly giving a curt nod and walking off towards her room. Rogue fought the urge to go after her, knowing it would only make things worse.

He could feel Sting's gaze on him, and he met it, but before he could say a word Sting had turned and walked away towards his room. Lector, who had been hiding in the shadows, spared him a sad glance before running after his partner.

Rogue decided he might as well find out what had happened and went off to talk to Minerva. He found her sitting on her bed surrounded by clothing and toiletries but staring listlessly at the wall. She looked up when he knocked on her door.

“What happened?” Rogue leaned against the doorframe, keeping his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“It didn’t go as planned,” Minerva smiled weakly, trying to find some humor in the situation but failing as the tears she’d been holding in finally burst. “I went to see my mother, but uhm it turns out she didn’t want me there.”

"I'm so sorry," Rogue tried to come up with better words, but he was still so overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last few days that it was the best he could do.

“No, I should have known. I mean, what parent leaves their child behind, right?” Minerva grabbed a tissue from her nightstand and used it to dab at her eyes. “She’s terrified of my father, from the second she saw me she was trying to get me to leave, and I had nowhere else to go. No other guild would take me, they’re all terrified of him too.”

"I was headed back here when Sting and Rufus found me," Minerva shrugged, "I should be apologizing to you, Rufus told me what happened. If I had known my father was capable of going that far, I never would have left."

“Did Sting... hurt you?”

"It's fine, he hit me harder than usual, but he seemed shocked by it. I don't think he really meant to and I'll be alright." Minerva waved away his concern.

"Listen, Rogue, I think it's best for everyone if we just….," Minerva looked at him sadly but with determination, "It's just not safe to have friends in this guild, bonds are a weakness none of us can afford. Getting stronger is the only thing that can help improve our situation."

She turned her back to him, grabbing some items that had been lying on her bed and putting them in a bag. Rogue watched her, trying to keep his feelings under control, but it was too much. In the span of a few days, he’d lost all his friends, save for the cats. He felt the stinging in his eyes and fought it, crying wasn’t going to help anything.

Minerva seemed surprised to see him still there, and she touched his cheek one last time as she walked out the door, "I'm sorry, Rogue."

It seemed getting stronger was the only way to go. If Sting and Minerva were determined to get stronger, he would do so as well. After all, the stronger he became, the higher his chances grew of someday finding his way out of this guild.

o-o

Ironically, now that Sting refused to talk to him, Jiemma was constantly pairing them together. The lacrimas had worked even better than the Guild Master had hoped, amplifying their already considerable magic by order of magnitude at least.

It made such a huge difference that they weren't able to command it as well as their usual magic, and it was too enmeshed with it to be isolated, so the fact remained until they learned to control it they really couldn't spar with anyone else.

Their spars were violent, fighting was the only way they had to communicate at the moment. At first, Rogue had let Sting get some hits in hoping that would be enough for Sting to get past his anger but as it seemed to make no difference Rogue soon began giving as good as he got.

Rogue was awed by how much power they now had at their disposal. They were able to access parts of their magic that they hadn't been aware of before. Their healing had increased as well, allowing them to take bigger hits and fight for more extended periods.

Regardless of how Sting and Rogue felt about each other they still fought well together. How could they not, when they knew each other so well. It was at these times that Rogue could still feel the connection between them and it kept his hope alive.

“Listen up, I just got a notice from the Magic Council,” Jiemma entered the front room of the guild while the members were having lunch holding a notice and showing it to everyone present, “The King of Fiore is planning a contest between all the guilds in the kingdom. The winning guild will be considered the strongest in Fiore.”

Jiemma glared at each and every one of them, "I think it goes without saying that I expect us to take top honors. Or else." He didn't expand on his threat, he didn't have to. They all knew what it meant. Some of the members looked at each other nervously. Jiemma had trained them to be tough, but they had no idea how they would fare when pitted against other guilds.

The guild master placed the announcement on a table and walked back towards his office. Sting hurried eagerly to look at it while Rogue followed more cautiously.

Sting grabbed the paper and read it out loud to everyone there, and Rogue couldn't help the pang in his heart as he remembered the days spent teaching him. Sting must have felt something also cause Rogue could feel his gaze on him. He met it and gave him a tentative smile. Sting returned it with his own shy smile before looking away, and Rogue almost cheered.

Sting had mentioned that each guild was permitted a team of five members to represent them in the events, which would go on for five days. There would be contests as well as fights. The games wouldn't be announced until the event began to make it fair for everyone. It didn't take much to figure out who Jiemma would choose as his team, and this worried him. Neither Sting nor he had managed to improve their control over their newly enhanced magic.

In fact, with Sting's obsession with being the strongest, he could very easily hurt someone, causing all sorts of complications for Sabertooth and Master Jiemma. The games were scheduled for July, they had at least a month to train, but Rogue wasn't sure that was enough.

Leaving his excited guildmates behind he walked purposefully to the Master’s office. Even though the door was open, he wisely knocked. Jiemma looked up from the papers on his desk, a frown marring his face as he saw who it was.

“Yes?” He asked irritably.

“Master, I was wondering if I could make a request.”

“A request? What could you possibly want?” Jiemma sneered.

“I’d like permission to visit the central library to look for books on dragon slaying magic. They might have information that might help Sting and I improve more quickly.” Rogue hoped that Jiemma was smart enough to see the benefits to his plan.

Jiemma watched him closely, Rogue knew the man didn’t trust him at all. This was very much a long shot but one at least worth trying. After a few minutes, he grunted, “You have a week, take Rufus with you, he might be able to learn some new magic while you’re there.”

Rogue bowed his head before leaving the office in search of Rufus. Jiemma's answer had surprised him, that was actually a rather cunning plan. The memory-make mage certainly didn't have much access to new material at the guild.

He found Rufus back in the front room observing the others make wagers as to who Jiemma would pick. Rogue nudged him, “Pack up some clothes, we’ll be gone for a week.”

Once again he could feel Sting watching him as he walked towards his own room to pack, but he didn't say anything. Rogue got his things ready and waited for Rufus outside his room, not wanting to return to the front room by himself.

“So, where are we going?” Rufus asked as he draped his travel bag over his head and across his body. “Is this a job?”

“No, we’re going to the Central Library to do some research on dragon slaying magic. Master Jiemma wants you to use the time to learn some new magic you can use at the Games.”

Rufus smiled happily, perhaps the only time Rogue had seen him do so since they’d met. They walked through the front room and out the door without sparing a glance to anyone, hesitantly talking about books.

o-o

Sting watched Rogue leave with Rufus without even a glance in his direction, and he would be lying if he said it didn't hurt. Sting knew he deserved it, he'd been a total dick since Rogue had returned from his job with Minerva, but as much as Sting tried to tell himself he no longer cared about Rogue it was complete bullshit. Would Rufus make a pass at him like he had done with Sting when they were looking for Minerva? The thought filled him with anxiety.

Where had they gone? When would they be back? Sting wanted to ask Master Jiemma but knew even if the man humored him, he would see it as a weakness, so instead, he found an empty training room and attempted to take his frustrations out on a dummy. He was already covered in sweat when he felt her come in.

“Fancy an opponent?” Minerva approached him slowly, every movement fluid and full of purpose, her voice deceptively disinterested. Her gaze never left him, belying her words and making it seem like she was ready to pounce at any moment. It made the hairs on the back of his neck rise in response to the perceived threat.

“I mean, I’m the one you want to fight,” Minerva smirked at him, purposefully attempting to feed his negative emotions. “Isn’t that true, Sting?”

She was right, he did want to fight her, his anger and okay, jealousy over her familiarity with Rogue had not dwindled, but he also remembered how he'd accidentally hurt her when he and Rufus had found her. It had been the first time he'd tried to use his magic after the lacrima had been implanted in him, and he hadn't been expecting that much of a power difference. Even though Sting had been furious with her, he'd certainly never meant for that to happen. It had scared him more than he let on. Minerva had actually looked frightened, something she’d never done before, and maybe that was part of what this was about.

When she received no response, she challenged, “I think you’ll find me a more worthwhile opponent this time.”

“I thought you were off training,” Sting ignored her taunt and even as he kept his eye on her, readying himself for an impending attack, he stalled for time. He wasn’t sure of the best way to handle this situation.

Minerva was a great opponent, a fight with her could prove challenging and Sting was determined to be on the team that went to the Grand Magic Games. He was filled with the need to show that he was the strongest, even in his own guild. Sting decided to stop thinking so much, he'd never backed down from a fight, and he wasn't about to start now.

“Well?” Minerva eyed him, arms crossed in front of her chest.

Sting got into a fighting stance and shrugged, feigning disinterest, “Sure, if you want a fight, I’ll give it to you.”

Minerva smiled at him, it was the type of smile that promised pain. She ran at him, touching his arm and calling on her territory magic to teleport him inside some sort of dimensional space. Sting felt his magic being sapped away from him and no matter how much he struggled he couldn’t make a hole big enough to get out.

He could hear Minerva laughing at him clearly, even though from his perspective she appeared blurry.

"Get me out of here Minerva, or you'll regret it," Sting growled as he continued to struggle.

“Be quiet, I am the ruler of this space. If I wanted to, I could kill you where you stand,” Minerva disclosed, her voice lowering to a whisper as she watched Sting strain against her magic. “I could take away your air and watch as you suffocated slowly.”

He started to feel faint, and he wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but it suddenly did feel like he was having a hard time breathing.

“My father would just replace you with someone else. There’s nothing special about you, Sting Eucliffe, even your magic can be had out of a lacrima, “ Minerva looked at her nails as she spoke, making him feel insignificant.

She dispelled her magic and Sting collapsed in a heap, gasping for breath as Minerva looked down at him, a cruel smirk etched on her lips. “Remember my words Sting, the next time you attack me outside of training, I won’t be so merciful.”

She walked away with a sway of her hips, leaving him staring after her in shock when he heard her mutter, “You don’t deserve him.”

She had taken him out with one attack, just like her father had the first time. He’d never even had a chance to defend himself or retaliate. Shit! Without his strength he was nothing, and she’d made a very valid point, even if dragon slayer lacrima was hard to come by it did exist, which meant anyone, regardless of whether they had magic to begin with, could be just like him.

There was nothing special about him, he was just some punk kid who had killed his dragon and pushed away the only person who’d ever cared for him.

No, that wasn't true, there was one thing about Sting that was special. He was a fighter, he would just have to work harder to get where he wanted. Sting finally realized, he couldn't do that without Rogue nor did he want to. They had always been stronger together.

When Rogue returned, he would find a way to talk to him, away from prying eyes.

A/N: Thank you to @x-thekid for her help with the summary, you are amazing! This will be continued in the prompt: Dawn.

@shadowlight-week

#fairy tail #shadowlightweek2k19 #stingue #ftlgbtales #ft fanfiction #prompt: dusk #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #sting x rogue #minerva orland #jiemma orland #sabertooth #angst #ftfanfics #my edits

21 notes · View notes