♕ Four eyes burned through the shadows—two of molten gold and two of bronze. When Rhaegal roared, a gout of yellow flame turned darkness into day for half a heartbeat. The fire licked along the walls, and Dany felt the heat upon her face, like the blast from an oven. Across the pit, Viserion’s wings unfolded, stirring the stale air.
Khori’s breath hitched in her throat. There was a small note laying atop her bedside table with five, neatly printed words forming a very peculiar question.
‘Don’t you feel any guilt?’
Whilst barely supressing a frown, she immediately took the scrap of paper in her right hand and crumpled it into a tight fist.
It was rubbish intended to set her off, surely.
She always did; every action she committed thus far had a consequence. It has been that way from the very beginning and will continue to be so until her very last breath.
The Xaela woman made her way across the wood floor and crouched down beside the fireplace on the opposite wall. She briefly studied the flickering flames licking at the fresh firewood before feeding it the note.
Guilt does not have a place on the battlefield and it is a weakness she does well to suppress when it involves the lives of those she holds most dearly.
Once the parchment was consumed entirely by the fire, she asked herself the more important question.
“Did I not lock up the house properly?”
[GUILTY FOR MY LATENESS. PLEASE FORGIVE ME ANON, AHHHHH- I’ve been so swamped with classes and catching up on sleep… I will also update this again today with a super good screenshot to compensate. orz]
beauty in peace and beauty in war but sadly only a few were able to see past
the hideous shadows of the latter. He
loved destruction and everything else coming with it but now the taming wasn’t
right. While he was fighting with one of the riders inside of the abandoned
house, the others managed to set it on fire. At first he thought he won but
then he really understood the reason for the raider’s quick escape. He was too distracted by his own ego until he
noticed the flames licking their way around the edges of the walls. It would be a hard task but he knew he was
going to make it out alive. All he needed to do was to get to the second floor
but before he even got the chance to get to the staircase, he noticed a silhouette
at the end of the hall. Maybe the unfortunate soul was one of the survivors who
got caught by the raiders. For a moment Ares wondered why the other was not
trying to escape but he was not even sure if they were conscious. “Hey buddy,
if you haven’t notice, the house is burning.”
He wouldn’t risk his own life to save them but at least he could warn
AU oneshot set across
Season Two. Whilst Emma and Snow are away, an angry mob burns down Regina’s
home leaving her stranded and searching for a home. Regal Believer, Evil
Charming BROtpish and eventual SQ.
I don’t own Once or
any of its characters. Apologies for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy :)
TW for arson,
depression, self-loathing and child abuse.
David gasps as he pulls the patrol car up outside of the
mansion on Mifflin Street. A fire truck and ambulance are already there but
even from where he stands on the street, David can tell the efforts of the fire
crew are futile. Thick black smoke billows in clouds up into the sky and flames
lick at every wall of the mansion slowly crumbling the once majestic building
down to the crowd.
Amongst the crowd of fire-fighters he spots Regina.
She’s a far cry from the Queen and Mayor he remembers.
Flames roared, and heat licked the walls of the house where a fierce battle went on inside. Most of the residents were laying dead, their corpses being stepped over, or claimed by the fire. A single figure’s shadow could be seen through the paper screen doors. A general of the enemy’s forces, easily slicing through the other, mediocre soldiers.
Yelling and screaming could be heard as more were killed, and the crashing of the crumbling home. With a few last swipes of his sword, the general gracefully finishes off his remaining foes, the last of the soldiers who had protected this estate. Once they had fallen, he throws aside the doors, stepping inside a room, seeming to belong to a very young child.
The desperate cries of a baby ring out over the crack of the flames, drawing the Samurai’s attention.
The male quickly strode up to the crib where a flame haired boy laid, still wailing, the family crest sewn on the blanket that covered him. The Samurai slid his Katana into its sheath, and quickly scooped the child up, keeping the blanket wrapped around it. Then, with a whoosh of his long hair, he ran towards the open door, dashing out, and making it out of the front entrance just before the entire estate began to crumble. He had to jump through the paper slider doors, and roll on the ground, holding the child close to him.
Slowly standing, his teal eyes reflected the collapsing building, though he did not stay for long before he turned and briskly walked away, heading back to his troops where they had gathered, and a thunderous cheer erupted from them. The general climbed onto his large white horse, cradling the still crying child in his arm, and gripped the reigns with his other hand.
He yelled the word several times to his troops before snapping the reigns, and taking off at a gallop.
In the present day, Akumu, the general who had defeated his enemy all those years ago sits cris-cross on a pillow in the meeting room speaking with officials of the estate, though a figure poking their head in from the doorway catches his attention.
Akumu sighs, and closes his eyes, his jaw sliding side to side in slight irritation.
“Yake..!” He called over, “You know not to interrupt me!” Opening his eyes, he takes a deep breath. “Please, excuse me. I apologize for the interruption.” He says to the officials, then standing, bowing, and walking out to meet the boy, sliding the door closed once he’s out of the counsel room.
“What business do you have with me that is so important you interrupt this?”