Remember To Leave Roses On My Grave

I'm Coming Out of My CAGE

[thornplucked]

{ I know I’m never on here or anything, but I figure I should actually officially put this blog on hiatus. I don’t know when I’ll be back (or if). I’m hoping I’ll be back around eventually, but I don’t foresee that happening anytime soon. I’ve tried to force myself to do things here, but I just don’t have the motivation. I don’t really like vanishing on blogs so I just wanted to leave a note! }

{ If you want to keep writing with me regardless of the muse I’m using, I do have other active blogs you can find me on (though I honestly think the vast majority of you follow me on at least one already), but they are @moon-caught​, @nxctiphany​, and @aaetherius​. These are all of my active blogs at this time.} 

[illust-sou]

Happy Birthday, Sylvain! (Fire Emblem Three Houses)

[rbhvleo]

it eats me alive.

[thornplucked]

sinkorol‌:

     “get your mind out of the gutter,” he sighed, in mock resignation. this was old ground, trod over many times. sylvain would say something, he would scold him, and the game would start all over again. there was no room for anything that resembled impropriety between them, between their inheritances and destinies. as much as his thoughts lingered on certain aspects of his friend, nothing could happen. to even consider it was an act of cruelty to them both. despite the official lack of rank as students, he was still the prince. the soon to be king. and despite sylvain’s own position as the future third most powerful man in faerghus, possibly even the second considering how things were going with felix- there was too much room to be accused of abusing his position.

    so, no matter what, chivalry would have to be obeyed. even if that meant pushing down certain thoughts and desires. even if that meant going through the motions of a half joke, half serious topic at three am. there was never going to be anything except king and vassel between them, but by the goddess he was going to do everything in his power to be the perfect king, the king a knight like sylvain deserved.  

    but by the goddess and all her saints, it was hard.

    he tugged his gauntlet off and laid the cold metal to the side, lining it up neatly in the barely lit room. well cared for, but scratched from use and constant wear. when was the last time he had taken them off in the presence of someone? it was hard to recall. he lived his life in a carefully insulated, isolated bubble. all the times where he had to take any of the armor off, he was carefully alone.

    except for now, as he peeled the glove from his hand and was confronted with the sight of his own bare skin for the first time in what seemed like days. it still amazed him how pale his own skin was, almost translucent in the moonlight. if he looked carefully, he could see the range of red and blue lines under his skin despite the callouses, despite being a dead man. his fingers almost appeared delicate, as if to try and make up for the brute strength they inflicted on the world.

    the glove joined the gauntlet and he carefully slid from where he sat, armor creaking as he moved but somehow softer now, quieter in the dark night. he wasn’t going to make sylvain come to him, and now that he was resolved- the gap between them closed, until he stood not even an arm’s reach away. far closer than he was usually comfortable with, but it needed touch, and sadly it had been such a long time since the last time he had existed near another person.

    and it was sylvain. possibly the only person asides from dedue that he had any real comfort with, despite the gulf that existed between them for so long. a gulf that disappeared as he reached and gently cupped his friend’s cheek, thumb brushing fondly over his cheekbone and fingers digging, just for a moment, into the deep red roots of his hair.

    there was never going to be anything less than proper between them. but that didn’t mean he couldn’t express some of his fondness, at least.

    “don’t move,” he murmured, bright blue eyes closing as he took a deep breath. he still wasn’t perfect at this, but that was the point of practice. he breathed, and remembered his lessons. he had no mind for reason, but faith held no similar difficulty for him. light welled on his fingertips and spread where they touched, and for a moment it was as if sylvain’s headache became his own; hardly a noticeable difference, really, but he hoped the magic at least lessened it for his friend. one of them, at the very least, deserved a chance at getting some sleep.

    “is that any better?” he asked as he drew back again, stepping out and back to where his glove and gauntlet lay, pulling the pair on once more. it felt good to be protected once more, but sylvain’s warmth still lay on his skin, penetrating in a way entirely unexpected. “i’m sorry that i cannot do more. mercedes is a fine teacher, but it can be slow going at times.”

     He shrugged, clueless and with mock { innocence }. This kind of of conversation wasn’t unusual for them. They had known one another for years now. Dimitri was privy to his less than savory thoughts and tendencies. He’s been witness, at least, to the results of his behavior more times than he could count. This wasn’t new. It would never be new. Maybe if he { quit }. Maybe if he dropped all of it, them, this would be a strange topic for them to tread on. But he didn’t plan to. There wasn’t much in this world he could fully control, but his reputation and the way people felt when they heard his name roll off of another’s lips was something he could control. Something he was always going to be able to control. He’d rather personally drag his name through the mud until it was { bloody } and beaten than have someone else do it for him.  

      Besides, the alternative had his eyes wandering towards Dimitri, and he had { swallowed } that urge years ago. Or well, had tried to and managed to enough for this 3am visit to his dorm room not to bing anything rushing back to the forefront of his aching mind. Or, at least, that was what he was telling himself as he watched the prince undo his gauntlets while wondering, exactly, where this was going. but not questioning him behind his earlier remark. Which, frankly, had been more along the lines of { flirting } than it had been wondering what the hell Dimitri wanted to practice in his room at three in the morning that wasn’t, well, you know, because this was Dimitri and, therefore, it was most clearly { not } where his mind instantly wanted to assume.  

        But someone tell him how, exactly, he wasn’t supposed to entertain such thoughts when Dimitri stood and and strode over to him, closing the careful distance he had had tried to maintain since childhood for his own stupid and { selfish } reasons - close enough that his throbbing headache was almost entirely forget. Close enough that he could feel the other man’s breath upon his bare skin. And more than close enough to make his heart begin to { race } despite his best efforts to stop it from doing just that. And he had to remind himself, once again, that this was Dimitri. Of course it was. Had it been anyone else he wouldn’t have felt the same ache in his chest or the same agony in his heart at this closeness. Had it been anyone else, he would have felt { nothing } at all.  

       But the warmth of his hand upon his skin as his calloused thumb brushes over his cheek. The sensation of his stiff fingers digging into his messy hair. The gentleness of that { tender } touch. All of it might as well be a form of a torture to him. Goddess above could the prince be cruel sometimes, but he remained still regardless of the { storm } brewing within the wicked, cluttered confines of his own vile head. Because these thoughts were nothing more than his own personal { fantasy } and, much like with every other aspect of his life, his own thoughts and desires had never mattered much at all. They were dreams of things he could never have. Of a person who could never and would never belong to him. 

       “Whatever you say, your highness.” Somehow, his voice doesn’t strain or { crack } as he speaks - years of practice and self-loathing could go a long way, he supposes. When Dimitri closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but stare. Stare at the firm set of his jaw. At the crisp lines of his cheekbones. At his eyelashes. At his lips. And, there, they { linger } a bit too long. But the sensation - the warmth of the magic as it seemed into his scalp pulled his mind away from such thoughts. So this is what he meant. This is what he wanted to practice. He doesn’t have the heart to tell him his headache has been replaced by a { broken } heart.    

       A smile graced his tired features and he felt his muscles relax as Dimitri stepped away from him, but the { longing } remained. And his skin felt { cold } where Dimitri’s hand had once been. “Y-Yeah, a lot better.” He’s surprised faith magic is something he’s interested in learning, then again, the more he thinks about it the more sense it ends up making. “She is, but you’re doing well. What made you want to learn how to use faith magic?” He was more trying to keep the topic away from his own his own head as he straightened himself out, eye Dimitri as he moved about the room to sit down on the edge of his bed. “It’s good that you are, but I doubt wanting to practice was your only reason for coming here at this hour.” His tone of ensured it could be written off as another joke. Just another dumb comment of his, if Dimitri wanted to avoid talking about whatever was on his mind. 

[thornplucked]

aegisheld‌:

          〝Stop acting like a insolent child – 〞

Words like daggers. Sharp, sudden. As if he wasn’t already tired from all the ruckus the other had been making the entire night. Did not matter that his room fell between the boar’s, noise carried through thick walls. Did not matter if entry would be denied, Felix came in quite abruptly. 

         〝– What are you even doing??〞

@thornplucked​

         Is he surprised, in the least, that Felix would suddenly burst through his door with all the grace of a raging wyvern - no, he’s not. Does he let out a somewhat exasperated sigh regardless - yes, he does. It wasn’t as if this was the first time someone had thrust open the door to his room with little to no warning - it wasn’t the first time that person was Felix either. But, for once in his life, would it kill someone in this army to let him be for just one night? His less than savory track record aside, he must deserve the benefit of the doubt every so often. Especially when, aside from himself, the room was devoid of life unless one would call the dying plant he had in the corner of his room a life or the impressive stack of tomes and maps that were currently littered all over his desk and floor.       

         “Felix, what a...pleasant surprise.” He turned around from where he was seated at his desk. He imagined all of the noise that Felix had heard was likely from him shifting books around and dropping them on the floor in a heap. He’d, admittedly, not bothered to be quiet given that his room was next to Dimitri and, well, the prince never did sleep so it wasn’t as if he had to worry about keeping him up. “Right, you’ve caught me redhanded - doing research.” For Dimitri and their professor, of course, but if pressed further about it he intended to lie. 

[thornplucked]

alright, it was time to turn the tables on the redhead. apparently, he had been flirting with him for a bit and while he can admit he's not too knowledgeable at it, hector can sure try when dared! "sylvain. do you like plums?" he barely waits a beat before continuing, a little too nonchalant to make it work properly. "how about a date?"

@ofostia

      There’s barely enough time for { confusion } to twist onto his features before Hector drops that line like it’s the most natural thing in the world to say. And, for a long, silent, and { agonizing } moment all Sylvain can do is stare at him in a mixture of disbelief and dumbstruck wonder. He can’t even begin to grasp what he’s even feeling at the moment. Is he pleasantly surprised, mildly mortified, or just downright { infuriated }? At this point, it was anyone’s best guess when he had spent the past Goddess knows how long trying to make his advances so painfully obvious that even someone as { oblivious } as Dimitri was starting to pick up that something was going on, yet, much to his growing dismay and budding agitation, Hector still, to his knowledge, had not a single clue as to what his intentions were - laid bare or otherwise. And now, after all of the time and effort he’s put into carefully crafting each and every word he says to the other, Hector has the { gall } to shove all of that hard work out the window and return to him with one of the worst pickup lines he’s ever heard in his life. The womanizer in him wants to scream, shake every once of sense back into him that he had clearly lost, and then drop { dead } - probably in that exact order, maybe, possibly, with the addition of strangling Hector while he was at it.

       “You…” he starts, but cuts himself short when he just can’t think of a proper response to give Hector, assuming there is one short of just outright tackling him to the ground and shaking him { senseless }, which he knows full well wouldn’t end well for him, but he’s so flabbergasted that, for once in his life, he can’t think of a single { clever } thing to say. In fact, all that comes to mind is: have you gone mad? And, honestly, he thinks the other might have at this point. A part of him thinks he should, maybe, forgive him or even be flattered by the fact that Hector was finally noticed he’d been trying to flirt with him over the past…several months, but most of him is just { exasperated }, tired, and vaguely offended that he would think such a cheap line would work on him. But, he supposes, this was Hector he was talking to and he had to give him credit where credit was due. And, by that, he of course means that Hector deserved credit for being the { densest } man alive. Even with Dimitri, Felix, and any number of his classmates taken into account, Hector still, somehow, managed to claim that unwanted crown for himself with the same glory one would expect from a { screaming } infant who couldn’t even speak proper words yet.   

        Finally, all he can do is press his palm against his forehead and smooth his scarlet locks back as a sigh slips past his lips. This is too much, even for a rat like him. “Are you kidding me?” He allows his hand to fall back down to his side as his gaze meets Hector, something unreadable but { unsettlingly } swimming about in his expression. Of all the ways he expected his attempts at flirting with Hector to go, he wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared for things to turn out like this.                    

[cirocchioed-deactivated20220720]

A series of (un)fortunate events have led me back into activity so let me throw a lil promo on the dash for my pretty gal Ciri, a plain ol’ human oc ( a charming package of freckles, cowardice, humility, laziness & childish imagination, among others, with quite a few years of development under her belt ). Recent promo addition is her bully magpie Jek. This blog is unaffiliated with any fandom but i’m flexible in terms of AUs; OC & Canon characters are all welcome, as are multimuse blogs! If she seems like a fun character to you please do give this a like or reblog, and i’ll check your blog out!!

[thornplucked]

[ sleepy ]++ { also known as, sylvain got the gremlin to go to sleep after 84 years }

@siderealsmoke

      By the time the chaos and confusion had { died } down in the noisy stables, the moon was high in the night sky - its silver light pouring in through the dusty windows and spilling out onto the cluttered floor through the open doors. Though only the faintest of glimmers from the stars tucked away behind the dreary clouds could be seen from where he stood, it hadn’t turned into an unpleasant night. It had merely become quiet, still even, despite the cacophony that horses had kicked up earlier with their startled calls and hefty grunts. Frankly, he was surprised they had managed to calm down so quickly, though not ungrateful for it given what time it had to be by now and the fact that most of the other soldiers were attempting to head in for the { night } or already had. They were an exception of course, seated on the straw-covered and muddy stable floor just outside his own mare’s pen, bags buried beneath his eyes and, from the look of her, he imagined she hadn’t slept in just as long, while they took this brief chance to rest after everything that had just happened. He hadn’t expected moving the horses about would be easy, but it hadn’t gone as smoothly as he had so { desperately } wished it would have. Regardless, it was over now and he could listen to his mare as she chomped away on the apples they had left for her without having Ingrid’s pegasus close enough to possibly kick his head in. 

         A sigh tumbled from his lips as his hand came back to run through scarlet locks in relief. However, for as exhausted and strained as he felt at the moment, legs bent before him and the smooth, { ebony } armor he normally donned shoved into a corner with a few more dents in it thanks to a certain unruly pegasus, it was Inshel who truly deserved all of the credit. To say she had changed his life for the { better } might have sounded like an overstatement to some when all she had done was suggest and help him move a few horses around, it was an understatement for him. He’d to admit it, but he was starting to get used to how that pegasus’s hooves felt when they made contact with his armor and just how hard her teeth were when she managed to get close enough to him to snap despite the fact that he was her current source of food and shelter. He was { eternally } grateful that, most days, his mare was the only horse he had to deal with. And, even then, she was far from perfect when she disliked most everyone who wasn’t him. 

           His attention turned back to Inshel where she say beside him, a smile worming its way onto his features as his arm fell back down to his side. “Well, now that this over with, how about I take -” he was just about to offer her a decent meal at a nice restaurant in one of the towns on the outskirts of the monastery when he saw her slipping. Slowly, her head began to drift sideways. Lower and lower until her cheek fell against her shoulder and her hair spilled out over his back. Her eyes were shut and her breathing was soft; { peaceful } even. For just a moment he allowed confusion to slither into his haze before it morphed into something far more difficult to read.         

          “I can’t say you haven’t earned a decent rest,” He finished instead, his voice nothing more than a soft whispers as he leaned his head back against the door that lead into his mare’s stall - her head lowering over the barrier to prod at Sylvain’s messy hair. A smile, one more real than fake for once in his life, slipped onto his features as he carefully lifted his other hand to stroke her muzzle, careful not to move much to prevent himself from jolting her awake, even if he can’t imagine his shoulder being all that comfortable. Maybe she’ll learn to use a real pillow next time. But, for now, he supposes he can say still for her { sake } until she’s ready to grab something to eat. 

[myunmelt]

the dynamic between them is very nice for me uuu

[thornplucked]

Rosamaria slips into the seat across from him only a brief moment after the girl occupying it fled away in tears. He doesn't seem heartbroken over it, so it makes her much less likely to feel guilty over this. The wooden box clicks against the surface of the table, and she unceremoniously requests, ❝ Play a game with me. ❞

@awakenfate

       As dreadful as it might sound, this situation wasn’t { uncommon } for him. It was far from the first time a girl had fled from him, tears staining her rosy cheeks as he buried her puffy face into the palms of her useless hands - likely cursing his entire existence in the process. And, frankly, he cared { precious } little about the women he left hysterical and mourning their chance at wealth - their smooth faces distorted when they realized their chance of marrying into nobility had been taken from them. Yet, they never seemed to learn - the next woman would be much the same, he imagined. Another girl who had { delusions } of grandeur and dreamed of a life of luxury she hadn’t been born into - a girl who had heard every nasty rumor and spitting insult that had ever been spread about him, yet still fell for every honey-dipped word that fell from his smooth lips and every { pretty } little lie that formed on his tongue because she though she would be ‘the one’. She thought she was special. She thought she would be different. She thought she could { save } him; that she could change him and mend him into the man of her dreams. It was always the same. It always had been. Always would be so long as his nobility remained intact and his crest continued to be more { valuable } than even the worst he had done. 

        This time; however, it’s only a matter of minutes before the seat beside him is occupied once again rather than the typical few, short days it normally takes. Scarlet irises meet her gaze; unwavering as the smile plastered across his face. For as { fake } as it is, it betrays none of the anger and hatred that boils just beneath his skin. And there’s no hint of remorse or heartbreak in his expression; his eyes; anything, as if he couldn’t have cared less about the woman who had just rushed away from him; tears stinging her lower lip as she { screamed } she had never loved him, would never love him, and that no one would ever love him - not his parents, not his brother who was { buried } six feet beneath the ground, and surely not friend or lover he believed he had. And, of course, he would have agreed with her if she had only given him the chance. She was right - as was every woman who had left him in much the same manner. Eventually, he imagined (a part of him hoped) his Goddess awful reputation would begin to outweigh the temptation of his nobility and the desire for his worthless crest. And, if that day should ever come to pass, he would, gratefully, accept the welcomed { solitude }.  

        For the time being, his gaze fluttered downward to the wooden box she’d placed on the table. He’s not surprised by how { direct } she is - she’s not entirely a stranger to him, though he’d never personally spoken with her before now, his opinion of her is less than…kind. But he supposed he has nothing else to do at the moment given the fact that he’d just lost his current girlfriend, if she could have been referred to as such, and he had originally assumed he’d be occupied for the rest of the night. She had grown { tired } of him rather quickly. So he leans back slightly, a hand lifting to run calloused fingers through smooth, red hair.  

         “So, if I agree, what do I get out of?” The smile remains on his lips and his tone of voice if pleasant despite its implications. He’s always had a { silver } tongue - he’s always had a talent for lying, if nothing else. It was only natural to assume she had an ulterior motive, as well, even if he timing wasn’t fantastic (though, one could argue her timing was perfect).  “And, if you win, I’m assuming you want something, right?” He folded his hands neatly before him, fingers interlocking, as he placed his chin upon his knuckles. He had little to lose, frankly, there wasn’t much in this world that meant something to him at all. What did, for the most part, he’d already lost. But he supposed it still heavily depended on what her goal was with this - he’d { humor } her if it was in his interest, but he wasn’t such a saint that he would entertain her for nothing in return. 

[thornplucked]

★!

@thorn-kissed

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

[thornplucked]

★ sticks legy out reallllllllllllllll far!!

@siderealsmoke​

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

[thornplucked]

★ !

@friekugel

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

[thornplucked]

★ for mercie

@awakenfate

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you// I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

[thornplucked]

★ hehe

@ambitionsrelic

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you// I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

[thornplucked]

★

@ofostia

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

[thornplucked]

[ sacrifice ], ++reverse!

[ sacrifice ] for your muse to get hurt protecting mine || @ofostia

        There’s an { unbearable } ringing in his head that’s louder and more pronounced than even the strangled sound of his own breathing and the muffled pounding of his heart. And slowly, but surely, that intolerable screeching begins to burn at the edges of his { darkened } vision; bringing the blinding light and vibrant colors of the real world back into view, and yanking him firmly back into a reality he hadn’t been aware he had been slipping away from. With it comes the dusty brown of mud plastered across his tattered, ebony armor and the dull green of the dying grass beneath his feet - painted a deep, thick { crimson } with blood that he was only vaguely aware was very much his own because he could see, rather than feel, it as it dripped down the curves and dents of his armor and onto the earth. The { glare } of the sun was still striking the treetops that surrounded the monastery and, truthfully, he’s only aware of where he is right now because he can see the familiar stone of the building behind him and he had scouted this area enough to notice the scars upon the trees and the wildflowers that bloomed all around him. It was making the scenery around him too { bright } for his liking and he couldn’t place why that seemed to irritate him more than the buzzing inside of his skull or the metallic stench that wafted in through his nostrils and made his already groggy head { swim }.   

         The first thing he can feel as the world around him comes back into view is the cold steel of his lance where its { clutched } against his palm; fingers still wrapped around it in a tight fist. His knuckles pale, almost white, against the deep, gray pole and the metal feels { heavier } than he recalled it being, but that’s because almost the entirety of his own weight is leaning against it and he begins to realize its the only thing still keeping him upright. The second thing he feels is the chill from the sweat { plastered } across his forehead and sticky to his damp hair - how the edges of his bangs poke at his eyes and how dry his lips taste against his tongue. But more uncomfortable than that is how the sharp, jagged edges of his armor now poke and prod that the chainmail and fabric worn beneath it, wearing down on his flesh and rubbing his skin { raw } in places where the thin layers between it and his armor have been shattered into more pieces than he could be bothered to count. And a part of him wants to tear it off, but he doesn’t have the energy to move from where he’s standing - just { barely }. The pain doesn’t begin to fester and eat away at him until after he can feel the heat of his own breath in the { frigid } air biting at his skin and the sensation of a hand, maybe two, somewhere on his back or chest but he can’t quite figure out where. And when it does flare up, it’s sharp and { agonizing } and burning and he feels like his entire side has been torn apart. And, frankly, it probably has been. It hurts like Hell. And he grits his teeth; bits his lip, and bears it with the same practiced { silence } he always has.        

          Slowly, the fog that’s been clouded his mind begins to { fade }, though he wishes it would have remained. Bits and pieces of the events that had brought him to this point return in a series of brief, { swirling } memories that flash by so quickly he can barely piece them together into a coherent order. He can barely even register that they’re his own. And when they do all come back together, they hit him like a brick. The monastery had been { attacked } while the prince and professor were away with most of their soldiers on another mission - the only ones who had remained within these walls were the injured and those who had been tasked with protecting them. He recalls the day being largely { uneventful } until that afternoon. There had been signs of soldiers wandering the grounds. Noises that came from outside. The stench of something { burning }. They hadn’t been prepared for the numbers they had met with then the gates were flung open. He knows they were being overwhelmed. He’s aware he placed the last chances of their { victory } on he shoulders of a single man because he’d been born with a talent with strategy and a single soldier could very much turn the tide of battle. And he knows he made a choice, then and there, that Hector’s life was worth more than his own for the sake of the people here who couldn’t fight - who would be { slaughtered } if they fell. So when things took a turn for a worse, it was only naturally for him to shield that fleeting hope they still harbored - an enemy’s axe had torn right through his armor - through his flesh, but his lance had done the same. One of them was still standing. The enemy soldier was dead on the ground somewhere and he couldn’t be bothered to pick the man out from the pile of { corpses } at the gate.      

         Then, he realizes, it’s Hector’s hands upon his back. That his voice has been that { awful } sound in his head since he opened his eyes again. If he had the strength, he might have let out a breath of relief, but even that was too much for him at the moment. Frankly, he was surprised he was still alive, but he suppose he had always been on the hardy side or, perhaps, { Hell },  much like this world, didn’t want him either. He supposes it doesn’t matter one way or the other. The battle is over. They managed to win and that was all he cared about it. Though, he could seriously do without having to hear Hector’s voice at the moment. It was giving him a pounding headache that rivaled the { throbbing } pain slithering through his bleeding side. “I’m alive, Hector,” he managed to force out between labored breaths as he finally slid down his lance to kneel on the ground instead. He could hear the obnoxious shouts of people behind him; of boots against the stone, and the heat of magic nearby as the healers rushed out to help.