#the gif search keeps bringing me sailor moon gifs

[misc-obeyme]

YOU ARE A GODSEND THAT’S THE ONE

THANK YOU

YAY SUCCESS!

I’m glad I was able to find it for you!!

[hawkinshightigcrs]

What flavor is your soul?

Andy

salt - ah little kraken, bold are you. restless sailor, dauntless fighter, lower your sword, let me see your shield. ah, of course, they are but the same object. oh wave-tossed ruffian, lend me some of your mettle would you? you have been struck by the sharpest of spears yet you still stand here proudly. but off your guard, elsewhere of the battlefield, you will find your spirit can parch others. your words are but weapons crafted from your soul. little lion, sheathe your claws, or the ones you love the most will suffer. you do not have to be strong all the time love, there's nothing wrong with being soft. vulnerability is not weakness, and if it were, what's wrong with that? strength is not always your greatest tool, your heart is good. put down excalibur, and use your words. you'll find they will carry you much farther. not everything in life is a battle.

Kent

rosemary - ah, the old soul, nice to meet again. the time of ages is etched into your bones, you see clearly. you've watched the heartache in this realm and sworn to solve it. but kindness without limits is self destruction. oh little leaf, strong and wise, you seek to bring peace with your presence. I'd be wrong to say you fail at this effort, but you mustn't set yourself on fire to keep others warm. you wish to please everyone, to protect them all. but if you shield the saplings from the sunlight they will never grow, and you one day will wither. protect yourself too. you know there are no happy heroes, so don't be one. be a friend. your loved ones will not forsake you for not being perseus slaying all their demons. you have your own monsters, why not meet them first before you conquer anyone else's nightmares. oh true-hearted paladin you are brave, and you are good enough. you know that right? be true to yourself, one cannot do anything saintly if they did not tend to their own wounds first.

Possum

mint - oh spry little dryad, spinning sprite, you drift through life as light as lion down. you are the chimes of churchbells and the laughter of faeries. gossamer and spidersilk shine from your ribs. life is fleeting, you more than anyone should know that. something we love today may never see tomorrow's sun. you pride yourself on skipping through moments, soft and merry. but you do not let your soul be tethered. is it for freedom or fear, sweetheart, that you do not let yourself be tamed? you are as fresh as and wild as bluebirds in snow, you smile at your problems before dashing away. hoping they will never catch up to you. but even nike can't run forever. you have been hurt before. but that is life. you wish to never feel that way again, but regretfully I must tell you that is nothing short of impossible. life is but part sorrow part sun, you cannot have teacups until they are burned by the kiln. oh I see the scars child, they shimmer down your chest, I see the pain in your eyes. but I also see the stardust. keep smiling, but allow tears also. you do not have to be solely wonder, fear, you are allowed to be bitter. so bite, and scream, and laugh, and love. that is what makes life worth living.

Robin

lavender - oh moon child, restless sleeper, tell me what it's like to dream? you float along the margins of reality, picking up the pieces of fallen memories to sculpt into your own realm. you are searching, but your tongue is quiet, quiet, quiet. open your mouth and sing my dear, silence only does you good for so long. and here you planted roots in the darkness, where not even the moon can reach your leaves. there is such a thing as being too practical, for you sail your ship on perpetually calm waters, and never have you spotted land. your mind has wings, uncage them! allow yourself to dream, you are not too far gone. there is no such thing! trust in yourself dear.

Rosemary

rosemary - ah, the old soul, nice to meet again. the time of ages is etched into your bones, you see clearly. you've watched the heartache in this realm and sworn to solve it. but kindness without limits is self destruction. oh little leaf, strong and wise, you seek to bring peace with your presence. I'd be wrong to say you fail at this effort, but you mustn't set yourself on fire to keep others warm. you wish to please everyone, to protect them all. but if you shield the saplings from the sunlight they will never grow, and you one day will wither. protect yourself too. you know there are no happy heroes, so don't be one. be a friend. your loved ones will not forsake you for not being perseus slaying all their demons. you have your own monsters, why not meet them first before you conquer anyone else's nightmares. oh true-hearted paladin you are brave, and you are good enough. you know that right? be true to yourself, one cannot do anything saintly if they did not tend to their own wounds first.

Thea

vanilla - oh heart of ice and mind of gold, what am I to do with you? you are only good in small amounts, bittersweet fledgling, you are hard for most to swallow. your spirit is strong, your wit is potent, your biting essence drives even the most daring away. but why are you hiding your sweetness? I know within you, you are soft, but humanity has made you bitter. you mask your pain and sorrow with spite and sensibility. you say you do not care about trivial things, but don't you? sweetheart relax. you can let down your drawbridge, the waters are not poisoned. I know you have looked monsters in between the eyes and scoffed at them, but please, relax. you think your armor protects you but it is smothering you slowly. little owlet, when will you learn, words can only get you so far? feelings are what makes this world pulse. do not suppress your feelings. your heart can still thaw my dear. trust.

Tagged by: I found it under the dash games tag omg!

Tagging: The dash omg!!

[inkandpen22]

Fate in Narnia

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Female!Reader

Warnings: none 

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: A year after the Narnian Revolution, Y/N, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie are sent back to Narnia. This means the three have a chance to be King and Queens, but most importantly, it means Y/N and Caspian can see each other again. 

Masterlist

I return home from my classes at the university with groceries for dinner. After a long day like today, I’m reminded that it’s just me left to take care of Edmund and Lucy. Peter and Susan joined Mother and Father in America six months ago. They write to us often, promising they’ll send for us too when it’s safer. Honestly, I’m not sure how much longer I can balance classes, work, and picking up the slack for Aunt Beatrice. Her son Eustace and her husband don’t do anything to help around the house. Sometimes it feels like I’m taking care of five people. 

“Edmund! Lucy!” I holler up the stairs after I set the groceries down in the kitchen. 

When I don’t hear a response, I jog up the steps. They should be back from school by now, it’s nearly time for dinner. I hear a commotion coming from my and Lucy’s room. If it’s Edmund and Eustace going at it again I might just scream and I’m supposed to be the more patient older sibling! 

I swing open the door to find Eustace and Edmund fighting. However, my attention is stolen by Lucy standing in front of a picture frame spewing water. 

“What have you three done?!” I rush into the room. 

“It wasn’t us!” Lucy explains, grinning brightly. 

I glance between my sister and the ocean painting frantically. “You mean-” 

Narnia. Caspian. 

Eustace and Edmund finally notice the water swallowing up the room. Edmund hurries over to us. Based on his grin, he’s thinking what we are too. Eustace screams and goes to rip the frame off the wall. 

“I’m just going to smash it!” He threatens. 

“No!” My siblings and I struggle with our cousin for the frame. 

The ice-cold water fills the room in a matter of seconds. We each struggle to kick ourselves to the surface as the furniture of the room starts to float. I close my eyes, afraid of what may happen. I keep kicking to the surface, in the need of air. When I finally reach the top after what feels like an eternity, I take in a deep breath. 

“Swim!” Lucy shouts. “Eustace swim!” 

I snap open my eyes and a massive wooden ship is sailing toward us. I scream and Edmund grabs my arm to get me to start swimming. My brother and I swim like Olympians to get away from the path of the ship. 

“It’s Caspian!” Lucy yells enthused. “Guys, It’s Caspian!” 

Edmund and I halt immediately. Two men swim up and take each of us safely. 

“Caspian,” I repeat breathlessly, searching the surface for him. 

“You’re alright now,” the sailor assures me as he starts guiding me toward the ship. 

“Are we in Narnia?” Edmund asks one of the sailors helping us. 

“Yes, you’re in Narnia,” the man chuckles happily. 

After Edmund and I are brought up on the side of the ship, one of the sailors offers me his hand to help me on. I step onto the deck and immediately start scanning the many faces for the one I want to see most. 

“Y/N!” 

I spin around on my heels and am met with the raven-haired prince I’ve been longing to see. A bright smile appears across my lips as I run across the short distance. He opens his arms to me and I leap into them. He laughs deeply, twirling me around playfully. His embrace is warm and strong, just as I remember. Oh, how I’ve missed him. He lowers me to the deck, but his hands remain on my waist. 

“How long has it been for you?” He checks instantly. 

“A year and you?!”

I can’t hide my worry that it’s been forever. Granted, he looks far too good for it to have been too long. He looks practically the same except for the facial hair. 

“Three years,” he smiles and relief rushes over me. 

“Thank heavens it wasn’t over a thousand again,” I sigh, laughing lightly. 

“You still are older though...” he sucks in air sharply between his teeth. 

“Oh stop it!” I swat his arm playfully. 

“Beautiful as ever I might add,” he compliments and leans in to plant a kiss on my forehead. 

“Caspian!” Ed interrupts joyfully. 

“Edmund!” 

Caspian and Edmund embrace and Lucy comes to join us. Our attention is stolen when Eustace lands on deck failing. 

“Get this rat off of me!” He screams. 

A mouse comes leaping off Eustace and bouncing over to us. 

“Reepicheep!” Lucy gleams. 

“Good to see you again, Rep,” Ed greets. 

The mouse bows to the three of us. “Your Majesties, always a pleasure.” 

Caspian comes up behind me and drapes a blanket over my shoulders. I thank him quietly and wrap the fabric around myself. His hands remain on my shoulders as we watch my cousin go mad. 

“Where in the blazes am I?!” Eustace fusses. 

“You’re on the Dawn Treader! The greatest ship in all of Narnia!” A minotaur announces to Eustace. 

The boy faints instantly, making everyone on the crew laugh, including Caspian and Edmund. Lucy ridicules them. 

“Was it something I said?” The minotaur asks us. 

“No, don’t take it personally. He’s just never been to Narnia,” I explain kindly. “In our world, there aren’t any minotaur.” 

“Oh, interesting,” the creature replies with a shrug. 

Caspian slips his arm around my waist and appears at my side. “See to him will you?” He asks of the sailor. 

“Right away, Your Majesty,” the minotaur bows. 

Caspian then jogs off to the stairs leading up to the helm of the ship. 

“Gentlemen!” Caspian gathers everyone’s attention. “Behold our castaways! Edmund the Just, Lucy the Valiant, and Y/N the Gracious! High King and Queens of Narnia!” 

Each of the sailors gets down on one knee and bow their heads. My brother, sister, and I can’t help but smile. 

Caspian hurries back down and takes my hand to guide all of us inside. “Come! Let’s get you changed and I can show around!” _________________________________________ As the sun starts to set on the horizon, I watch over the side of the ship as the waves hit against the wood. Dolphins play in them, dancing along with the white foam. It reminds me of when I would watch them at sunrise when we lived in Cair Paravel. 

A pair of arms snake around my torso and bring me into their chest. I rest my head back against Caspian and slip my arms over his. He plants a kiss to my temple gently. For a year I’ve missed this. The last time we were in Narnia, Caspian and I hardly had any time after the revolution to settle. It came as a shock when Peter announced we would be returning home. I wasn’t ready to go and Caspian wasn’t ready to say goodbye. It took every ounce of willpower to leave. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Caspian whispers in my ear. 

“Oh do you?” I snicker. 

“Close your eyes,” he instructs with a nod.

Reluctantly, I close my eyes and hold out my hands. I feel a familiar leather sheath and strap brush against my palm as Caspian lowers the object into my hands slowly. 

“Okay, open!” Caspian gleams. 

My eyes flicker open and sure enough, it’s my old weapon gear. “My dual-swords!” 

“I’ve kept them safe since you’ve been gone!” Caspian tells me. 

Over the moon, I spin on my heels and pull him into a hug. I can’t believe he’s kept them with him after all this time and even took the liberty of taking them on the voyage. His arms linger around me and I ponder the feeling. 

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers against my shoulder. 

“Me too,” I mutter solely, resting my cheek against his chest. 

Caspian tightens his embrace upon hearing my words. Three years have gone by for him. A year was long enough to feel like a lifetime to me. 

“So Caspian-” Edmund voices, making Caspian and I part. I place my weapons down on a barrel and lean against the rail behind me. Edmund doesn’t notice my glaring at him for interrupting. “-have you managed to find yourself a queen in the three years we’ve been away?” Edmund asks, amused. 

“Oh uh...” Caspian stammers nervously. 

My lips part as I stare at my brother dumbfounded. “Ed-” 

“No, none to compare to your sister,” Caspian answers to my surprise. 

“Ew,” Edmund grimaces in disgust and cowers off somewhere. 

I turn to Caspian in awe. “Do you really mean that?”

“Every word,” he whispers, reaching up and caressing my cheek. 

I lean into his touch as my eyes fall shut with immense peace. A sense of peace I haven’t felt in over a year. 

“I’ve counted the days, waiting for your return. I knew there was a chance it may never happen, but I couldn’t give up hope. I still love you, Y/N,” he confesses and I open my eyes. “If not more than I did when you left.” 

I step forward, leaning into my press my lips to his softly. The sensation is exactly as I remember, if not better than before. I part from him for a second, resting my forehead against his. Our eyes meet, my Y/E/C ones, and his jet black ones that I adore so much. The eyes I’ve dreamt about each night for the past year. 

“I love you too, Caspian,” I whisper. 

He smiles, releasing a breathless laugh of joy and takes a step back. His hands take both of mine and he rubs them with his thumbs softly. “I... I know you’ve never had a choice and I know I’m asking a lot of you but... will you stay here in Narnia... with me?” 

My eyes search his face at a rapid rate. Is he truly asking me this? I take a moment to consider what he’s really asking me. I would be leaving behind my world forever. I may never see my family again. After all, this could be the last time we ever come back to Narnia. 

“And I know that would mean asking you another question,” he continues. “I have something else for you.” He steps back and lowers himself to one knee. 

My lips part as I start to comprehend what’s happening. The crew takes notices and starts to gather, along with Edmund and Lucy. 

Caspian reaches into his pocket and a reveals a gold floral engraved ring in his palm. “It was my mother’s. I’ve kept it with me, waiting for you to return. I don’t wish to bombard you. I know I’m asking you to make an impossible decision and-”  

“Yes,” I answer. 

“Yes?!” He repeats, rising from his position. 

I laugh, “Yes! Yes, Caspian I will marry you!” 

He wraps his arms around me and lifts me off the deck. “Oh, I love you so much, Y/N!” Above him, I lower my head and bring my lips to his. 

Instantly in my heart, I can feel that my fate was always meant to be forever with Caspian in Narnia.

Masterlist

[fanesavin]

With the Forty Isles gripped by the chaos of a plague outbreak the arrival of a small band of mainlanders seeking revenge goes amiss.

[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (x) (x) | (x) Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (x) (x) | Part 7 | Part 8  (x) | Part 9 (x) |Part 10 | Part 11 (x) (x) | Part 12 (x) | Part 13 (x) (x) | Part 14 (x) (x) | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 (final) ]

Thanks to @bumblingbrujo for this and I know both our lives got so madly busy but we got there in the end!! xD Also @ianncardero that’s everything I know it’s late but this is the final one done and dusted if you still want to reblog to the main!

Miguel had been trying his hardest to keep Danian safe and out of trouble. But they didn’t seem to care about trouble. They were moody and listless and hadn’t talked to Miguel since they were in the middle of the sea. Then they had slowly stopped talking to the sailors. They had curled into a ball and didn’t want to see the outside world, disconnected from their gods - the spirits of the North, the land, the snow. Isolated and alone, Miguel couldn’t help them.

Instead he focused on helping his own people. The people that wanted to be helped that is. The people who gave up Iann’s claim to the throne, those that forsook Buttercup and the rest of Iann’s heirs. But as the people of the larger islands trickled out to the edges and asked Miguel for help - he found it didn’t feel as good as he thought it would. Sure, he had technically won. Or was in the process. But at what cost? Did he even care about the cost? A year ago he would have said no price was too steep.

But sitting in the vestibule of the summer house of his family, he felt hollow and tired. Even though he could smell the saltwater breeze.

The small craft sped across the chopping waves in complete silence; not even the constant rhythmic splashing of the six oarsmen could be heard. Only the pearly luminescence of the moon overhead lit up the black waves as the small craft continued its journey towards the horse-shoe shaped bay. Behind them the outlines of ghostly sets of sails rocking gently on the swell could vaguely be discerned. As the boat reached shore, the oarsmen jumped out into the white-licked surf hauling it a little way up into the sand.

The night was humid, the salty breeze licking the surf into a gentle symphony where it met the sand. It was no secret to mainlanders that the Isles were presently in a state of chaos, those that hadn’t risen up against the new so-called King were now suffering the effects of the Plague. But Fane was undeterred by the news. The small crew’s features were obscured by headscarves and cloaks as they made their way to the rendezvous location to meet with Lady Florent’s mice. They would see to it the small team fulfilled their purpose here tonight with as minimal bloodshed as possible. Only one need pay tonight and each member knew who that was.

There was no point in staying up late to worry. It would only mean Miguel was ill prepared for the morning. It was just as he told Lady Florent, the sun did not care about the people who played their games constantly below it. It just shined on, bringing day after day without rest or pause.

Miguel had to follow the sun. He went around the house and blew out candles. The darkness was a solace to him. The moon cared even less what people did below her.

Fane and his men regrouped at the little house near to the royal villa. Ciara’s mice had served their purpose in getting the reports of the guard’s typical rotation patterns. The Prince was inside and didn’t often come out these days. Why would he? With the state his precious isles were crumbling into, there was nothing mighty here anymore. At least, nothing Fane had seen that deserved such a description. Information in hand the group mobilised, and were soon enough making their approach.

The men Fane had picked were some of the best in all his regiments. Hand picked for tricky situations and getting in and out with as little fuss as possible. There were some near misses, guards that needed to be dealt with but otherwise Fane prowled on in search of his prey his steps muffled by the soft material of his shoes. Nearing the royal chambers Fane gave the signal for his men to split and cover exits. There would be no escape and no interruption. Dani was in here somewhere, but Fane couldn’t say where or what state they might’ve been in.

Slowly, Fane turned the handle and eased the door open wide enough that he might slip through. His hand on the hilt of his short blade hyper-vigilant for any sort of surprise awaiting for him beyond.

Something didn’t sit well in Miguel’s chest. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. So he sat in the chair closest to the window and did maintenance on his big obsidian sword - cleaning it, sharpening it, and polishing. That is until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced at the door. He stood to meet his visitor, he hoped it was Danian, finally come to talk. But his heart was cold and knew that it wouldn’t be them.

Fane watched in silence as the would-be King rose from his seat by the window, feeling impassive and yet equally furious. This man had taken from him his best friend and child. One fell swoop had served to snatch them away without so much as a word. The memory of the pain he’d felt in learning those two facts still burned hot, an anger that had been simmering and slowly stoked until now. Fane reached for the fabric masking his identity and pulled it free, eyes flashing angrily as he held the other with a steely gaze across the room. A long silence extended between them, Fane’s fingers curling around the hilt of his blade. “You know why I’m here.”

Miguel narrowed his eyes. He had always respected Fane, even if he had been Iann’s friend. “I assume you came for Danian. They are here of their own will, adhering to the quarantine.” Miguel’s dark eyes were locked with Fane’s. Though Miguel held tight to his sword, his outer world had already shaken apart, and his inner world wasn’t far behind. “They are alive, and unharmed. So tell me, why are you here?”

Fane dropped the scarf aside and stepped into the light, his features weather-worn and thick beard more greyer than it once had been. “Aye, perhaps they are. perhaps not. But they’re only quarantined because of you, aren’t they? Or maybe it’s because they saw what you did to Iann… Danian always was fond of you… Perhaps too much, but they’re coming home.” He noticed how Miguel kept his grip tight on his blade as he walked closer, but where Miguel was wound like a coil ready to spring Fane’s temper simmered still though he did draw his own blade. “I’m here to teach you a lesson about family, about what happens when silver tongued cowards like you cross me and those I am loyal to.” Fane’s lips curled into a malicious smirk, “you’re going to die tonight Miguel and I’m going to see to it you’re remembered for what you are - a coward who will never find peace or meet his gods.”

Miguel didn’t feel like arguing with Fane. He hadn’t felt like arguing with Iann either. If there was only one way to end this, then let it end. Miguel was tired. His sword tilted up and he bent his knees. “I’m always willing to learn new things,” he said - waiting for Fane to make the first move. The muscle at the base of his neck burned, but he bit back to sudden urge to renounce the gods of the Forty-Isles. The only deity that mattered was the death goddess, and she always came when called.

Fane mirrored Miguel’s movements, his hand wrapped firmly around the hilt of his sword fingers curled under the guard. Fane was almost a foot taller than Miguel and knew he likely had more strength but equally this was counterbalanced by Miguel’s smallness lending itself to speed. He never had been one for posturing or grand-standing though and very quickly closed the distance between them targeting a series of slashes, cuts and stabs at Miguel. Enough to give him a sense of his opponent and estimation of what he was up agaiinst.

Fane was strong, and much taller than Miguel. The smaller man knew that he would have to rely on speed after parrying a couple slashes. There was no way he would be able to stand up to that power for more than a few blows. It was hard to be fast when the rock in his chest was weighing him down. But training and sailing had made the movements of a fight second nature to him, and he looked for any way to gain the advantage.

Fane had been a soldier for enough of his life to know you did your best to never give your opponent the upper hand, but equally knew the issue of emotions wasn’t so easily controlled or switched off. His strikes were sure, confident in delivering a fatal blow if they struck but as Iann himself had pointed out. Morality was more hindrance than help, so after a few bouts of parrying and the ring of metal grating against metal echoing in the large room Fane tossed morality to the wayside. Intent on delivering one thing only, Miguel weaved and bobbed and while occasionally Fane stepped in to strike at him he made a point never to chase. To wait the traitor (for that was what he was in Fane’s mind) out. Until the opportunity presented itself to dart in but instead of striking with his sword, he opted to perform a quick 180 turn, his free hand clenched in a tight fist swinging out until his mail-lined glove caught Miguel across the face in an attempt to throw his rhythm and balance off-kilter.

A sharp pain burst across Miguel’s face like a ripe fruit. It dripped down his nose and off his chin - or maybe that was the blood. He stumbled back, the clenching of his jaw adding to the ache in his face. Fane had him - there was no denying the goddess of death any longer. There were no snappy one liners left, it was too dark in the forest of Miguel’s regrets to find one. So he stayed silent, ready to take whatever punishment this good and moral man had for him.

Fane didn’t bother to give Miguel any time to recover, he stepped after him boots echoing on the floor with each step that he took after his opponent. His height meant the distance was covered in a couple of steps. “No clever quips? No excuses?” Fane might have been surprised, but as he neared Miguel instead of running him through straight he caught him by the front of his shirt and hefted him close and then off the floor a few inches. “Why’d you do it? Iann? Dani? Was it worth it?”

Miguel took a deep breath, surprised by the lack of sword in his belly. He had run out of clever quips, and he had no excuses. He should have changed his mind, he should have let Iann take the throne. He should have been a little freer with his trust with Dani… but he wouldn’t let himself think about that, the thought of the two of them content in the North, having adventure after adventure - it would have been too much for him. Instead he had thrown his lot in with Cassandra. “My fate was sealed the moment I was born,” he said simply. “Kill me then.” He knew that Fane wanted revenge, for Iann. And he bit back the wonder of who would rise up from the chaos. No matter what he had lost - it was only a matter of how he wanted to die, by Fane’s blade or through a vector of his sister-in-law.

Fane only felt his frustration bubble up, he’d come all this way for… this? There was no helping the winding coil of his muscles as he released on hand and slammed the fist across Miguel’s jaw, once, twice, three times. “Why?! There has to be a reason,” Fane couldn’t rightly accept that this was it simply just… for nothing. Every action was born of some desire, but why couldn’t Miguel have just been happy with his lot? His was hardly the worst life that could be tossed to someone.

Miguel took the fist without comment. He waited for Fane to get close and frustrated before his own anger bubbled up to match, and he pulled the dagger from his boot and made a lunge for the bigger man. “Nothing you would understand.”

Fane knew a downed enemy was perhaps the most dangerous, while he approached he still kept his grip tight on his sword and eyes tightly trained on Miguel. There was no telling what his blades might be laced with and he had no intention of being the one left bleeding out here. Fane moved quick, and was forced to drop his sword in favour of grabbing Miguel’s wrist on its downward arc. As one of most vulnerable joints as he knew in the next moment he ducked down and under his assailant’s arm rotating but never easing his grip as he wrenched Miguel’s arm up behind him in an effort to force Miguel into a position of pain that he would have to drop the dagger. Now behind, Fane drove the thick heel of his boot into the back of Miguel’s knee in an attempt to force its natural hyperflexion and send him down.

A twist at the wrist made Miguel wince, and the sharp pain there made him drop his dagger. Fane didn’t let up, and then Miguel was on his knees, not in the best spot - with Fane behind him, standing over him. Miguel was quickly running out of options. His jaw was tight and he kept it clenched, he didn’t want to waste words on Fane, it was clear the Inquisitor was above listening to Miguel’s honeyed tongue.

Fane felt a cold wash of calmness settle over him, peace in what he was about to do. Justice for his friend and for his family. Sheathing his sword he took out his dagger, pummelling Miguel over the face several times to first disorient him enough to make the point that fighting back was futile. There was no purpose in even trying. Only then did Fane kick Miguel over onto his back dropping so a knee kept his chest pinned down while one hand went to prise Miguel’s jaw open, “this would be so much more satisfying if you begged.” Gloved fingers took hold of Miguel’s tongue and a slash of steel severed it before the remnants were then shoved back into the bloodied waste of Miguel’s mouth for him to choke on. He would die here, an example made of his death and the throne restored to the rightful heir that word had been sent to by proxy of a separate emissary unaffiliated to the Savins. The Isles were in chaos and one less leader would hardly go amiss. With a final look at the man at his feet Fane stepped back and watched his life drain away a calm sense of satisfaction washing over him as Miguel’s spluttering form finally stilled.