glassrising:

Imagine: two imperials of different elements and kingdoms who are at war, both are heirs to the throne

They meet by pure chance during a social gathering, neither realizing who the other is, and they ditch the social and go chill together and from there a relationship quickly blooms, undaunted even as they realize that their partner has the blood of a rival

They keep their relationship secret for as long as possible until they are discovered. To prevent separated one runs away to join the other, but in retaliation their kingdom states it a kidnapping and declares war.

The two stay together and fight the war side by side, becoming a symbol of peace and love throughout the flights and even being spoken of in the beastclans

The war rages on for longer than it has any right too, one kingdom fueled by hate too long boiled to be calmed and the other fueled by the want to be free to love and live.

Finally, it seems the war is slowing to a stop, the peaceful kingdom and its lovers slowly winning out against the rival. The last battle comes up, the tides seemed pitched clearly in the lovers favor.

Then, a last act of desperation, a poisoned dagger slipped between the ribs of one of the lovers, the attacker quickly dispatched but the damage irreversible. The lover falls quickly, the poison lethal and fast acting.

In despair and rage the other imperial slips a dagger into their own heart, coughing out blood and laying alongside their love as both lives are snuffed out.

For a moment the entire battlefield goes, the grief at these two beloved dragons falling heavy and palpable in the air. Then, the unthinkable happens.

The corpses shift and groan, dark magic sizzles along their hides as two are knit into one. A low rumbling snarl echoes across the quiet battlefield as the emperor stands, eyes glittering with a righteous fury.

Possessed by anger and fueled by a dark magic it slaughters both sides of the war, both kingdoms falling. Enemies and friends alike fall to the beasts claws and fangs, and even if wounded the creature doesn’t even flinch as a foul smelling black ichor pours from the gashes in its skin.

There are no survivors of this war. There isn’t even any indication whether what happened truly happened or not. It is both a fairytale told to speak of the strength of love and a nightmare whispered to warn against hate.

There are many endings to the story, some say the emperors was killed by survivors. Others say that the emperor slaughtered everyone then, black tears running down its grotesque maw, it flew away into the night never to be seen again.

jetfeather:

the-clan-who-resides:

The first time it happens, you lost something small. The tip of your tail. Three of your fingers. They smile. “Oh, that’s an easy fix,” they say. When they heal you, it’s almost exactly like it was before. Sure, it feels a little stiff and you’re pretty sure it’s more like wood than flesh, but otherwise it’s fine. “See, life will always prevail” they say, and you automatically agree, more focused on the healed part than what they are saying.

The next time, it’s something bigger. An entire limb. You panic, but when they come, they smile. “Oh, that’s an easy fix,” they say. When they heal you, it’s almost exactly like it was before. Sure, you’re almost certain it’s more like wood than flesh, but otherwise it’s fine. “See, life will always prevail” they say, and you hesitantly agree.

You lose an entire wing. Blood is pouring out the wound and you’re sobbing, thinking you’re gonna bleed to death. When they come, they smile. “Oh, that’s an easy fix,” they say. When they heal you, it’s… not exactly the same. It looks like a wing. It feels like a wing. But it’s not a wing. Under the right conditions you can sort of glide, but you know your days of flying are over. It creaks when you move it, like an old worn chair. It’s more like wood than flesh. “See, life will always prevail” they say, and you say nothing. Their smiles get sharper, their eyes get harder. “See, life will always prevail” they hiss, and you stammer out yes.

It happens more and more. You lose something. They come. It’s always easy, it’s always more like wood than flesh, life will always prevail. It continues like that until-

Until the sword goes deep. It cuts straight through your stomach and you can see your organs, threatening to spill. Your life is flashing before your eyes. When they come, they smile. You’re not even surprised to see them anymore. “Oh, that’s an easy fix,” they say. The wood that covers your stomach and holds everything in makes it hard to bend over. You’re not quite as flexible as you once were. “See, life will always prevail” they say, and you agree numbly.

That spring, you throw up flower petals.

Years go past. The parts of you that are wood outnumber flesh. You don’t even care. In spring flowers grows all over your body. You don’t even try to stop it when they spill out your mouth anymore. Sap runs through your veins. You spit sweet smelling poison. It coats your teeth and floods your throat. You don’t even choke. Besides, it’s a lot easier going down than flowers are coming up.

When your skull is crushed in and not only do they heal you, you can still see, any part of you that once cared has long died.

You’ve lived longer than any dragon is supposed to. You haven’t left the Viridian Labyrinth in… gods, how many years has it been? You think you lost track about 300 years ago. Or maybe was it 400? You don’t care. It doesn’t matter anymore. You blend into the landscape because you are the landscape.

Long long ago, you asked them to show you some healing magic. They happily agreed.

You find a young dragon. They lost something small. The tip of their tail. Three of their fingers. You come to them. You smile. “Oh, that’s an easy fix,” you say. When you heal them, it’s almost exactly like it was before. Sure, you know they’ll think it’s a little stiff and you know they’ll be pretty sure it’s more wood than flesh, but you also know that otherwise they’ll think it’s fine.

“See, life will always prevail” you say, and they automatically agree, more focused on the healed part than what you are saying.

@marmite-fr

This is so good.