#be able to summon mist or light rain

[radiofreeilium]

Crowd sourcing plot points in my new wip

[ornii]

Could I request Wednesday with a male reader who's invisible? Maybe she's lamenting about not being able to actually see him.

Funny Enough I have something like this! They’re somewhat invisible but it would be better to call them a—

Ghost

Wednesday Addams X Male Reader

The sky was dark, blacker than usual. It was most likely due to the blood loss. Nevermores ground was seeped in your blood, You lied on the hard cold ground of nevermore, dying. A single stab wound to the stomach. You felt numb, cold, the rain slowly began to land on the ground and begin to welt on the earth, you slowly began to fade into the dark, before your eyes locked into one person, you couldn’t remember his name, only his last name is what was screaming into your brain.

“Gates.” You barely mutter, before it all went away. Death is an experience very very few can tell you about, due to how complicated it all is. But one thing is for certain, it isn’t always the end. As it was made plainly clear to you, 32 Years later.

Wednesday Addams. She sat in a dark room, dimly lit by candles around her as she held onto a black stone, reciting a dark chant into a hushed whisper. Her room door opens suddenly, knocking the candle lights out and calmly illuminating a single being beyond the door, Wednesday’s vision was limited by the smoke and dark but it sees she has her answer. Expecting her spectre, she was very disappointed to see it was her bubbly roommate, Enid Sinclair. Enid noticed that she was interrupting.. whatever Wednesday was doing.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your… Uh, do I even want to know?” Enid flatly gave up.

“I was reaching into the black maw of death to contact a relative.” Wednesday explained in her calm but deadpanned demeanor.

“Feels very on-brand for you.” Enid replies, walking over she noticed a name etched to the wood. Goody.

“You have a relative named Goody?” She inquired.

“She was one of the original outcasts.!Been attempting to summon her, but she seems to be ignoring my entreaties.” Wednesday explains.

“Oh, you thought about using one of my!scented candles? The aroma of steak tartare is to die for.” Enid offers and Wednesday folds her arms.

“Very.. hard pass. I just need to keep knocking, she will answer.” Wednesday said, confident, Enid was less so.

“Well, you might think you’ll invite someone you.. don’t want?” Enid said.

“Like you?” Wednesday always had. Knock for antisocial behavior.

“Funny. But I’m being serious, I heard from our Divinity teacher that opening a door on the other side might be hard to close.” Enid was obviously concerned for Wednesday, but little did she know, the door has already been breached.

In the void, an Empty darkness, You had awoken back up, but you could only see darkness, touching your face you felt nothing, as if you were and weren’t there at the same time. As this happens, night has crept up on Nevermore and the students are all sleeping in their dorms. Enid wasn’t, as the idea of a ghost haunting her room has kept her up, Wednesday was absolutely unbothered.

She peers from under her pink bed sheets to look around again, Enid hears the crack of a door and her eyes quickly dart over to the balcony door they have, a miasma of blue mist slowly emulated from the door, pouring in and Enid immediately was tossed into a panic, she hides under the covers, and then peeks out to a shadow, somehow standing outside. She covers her mouth before she could scream. She peeked over to Wednesday in a toss.

“Wednesday!! Wednesday!!!” She said, in fear and a whisper. Wednesdays eyes opened like a reanimated corpse.

“Enid, if you are waking me up at this time for something trivial—“ Wednesday started but Enid, on the verge of tears points to the balcony, Wednesday looks over as the shadow silenced her anger, it worked.

You rubbed your nonexistent eyes into the shadows began to fade, and you stood on the balcony of Nevermore, ironically enough it gave you the perfect view of where you died. In that ground, and for a moment your friends eyes flash before you. You looked at your hands, translucent and a loss of color, as if you came out of a photo from the 70’s. You had no real feeling in your body but you could sense someone’s presence. You calmly put your hands in your nonexistent pockets and turned around to face the approaching figure, your eyes lock with hers and you came face to face with a girl who looked almost as dead as you, pale skin, oddly deep black abyss eyes, and the cutest nose, but you pushed that last part to the back of your head. She was a mystery girl to you, it was obviously pretty awkward for the both of you. You decided to break the ice by asking arguably the dumbest question you could.

“Can I help you?” You said, the moment the words exited your lips you realized how dumb that sounded. She didn’t acknowledge your screw up and eyed you up and down.

“Are you meant to lead me in my ethereal conversation with Goody?” She asked, you had idea what the hell she was talking about.

“Goody?” You asked, confused. The girl looks away giving you a side eye.

“I suppose this is what Enid meant.” She then turned back to you, “I suppose I’ll be forced to exorcise you back to the depths of Hell.” She said plainly as if that isn’t going to be an absolutely painful experience.

“Or you don’t do that.” You suggest.

“Why not? You serve no purpose on helping me contact Goody Addams.”

Addams. That last name clicked something off in your brain, and it began to work its magic, you noticed that the girl is, oddly familiar looking. You leaned in as she took a step back, your translucent eyes glaze all over her.

“Hm.. you do look familiar.” You said, and she squints.

“That’s particular, because I do not know you.” She responds defensively.

“Yeah, you look like Morticia.” You said snapping your fingers, you knew you recognized the nose. “It’s the button nose and hair. I knew it looked familiar.”

“I unfortunately share the same genetics with my mother.” She admits, and the word mother hit you in the face like a baseball bat through your skull.

“Mother? You’re…” you trail off, unsure of how to feel. “Is your dad.. Gomez?” You asked, actually afraid of the answer.

“Yes.” She replies, and you for a moment for an odd psychosis of reality bending. You caught yourself and was in disbelief.

“I can’t believe those two.” You stammered. The girl raised an eyebrow. “What has you so enamured?” She slightly pouted.

“Because I know those two. They’re alive.” You jaded relief in your heart, happy that this wasn’t the end for them. The Mystery Girl was becoming less of a Mystery now.

“You knew my parents? How?” She asked and you showed your Old Nevermore uniform, and it clicks for her.

“Classmates.” The muttered.

“Long Story, but I know them.. I was just worried about what happened to them after…” you thought hard about it, after The Gates planned such a heinous crime.

“That’s not important… if you want to exorcise me, so be it.” You said, the girl hesitates before answering.

“Actually you might be of… some use.”

“..Huh..” you thought. “Okay.. how?” You asked.

“I could use an extra pair of eyes..especially ones that cannot be seen. Wednesday Addams.” She said, you gave her your name in return and accepted.

“That’s.. fine by me.” You mutter, you offer a handshake. “Deal?” You said, smirking. She doesn’t go for it. “I’m not an idiot I know you’d just phase though my hand.” She said blankly.

“Heh, your dad always thought it was funny.” You said, putting your hands in your pockets. “So… should I introduce myself to the girl cowering in those pink bedsheets?” You asked.

“Why bother with Enid?”

“Because she can see me, and it would be more civil.” You said and walk past Wednesday, you step into the room and hear the cowering in the bed. You stroll over and hear whimpering under it. “Oh, I must have startled you.. I’m sorry.” You knelt down to her bedside.

“Excuse me? Could, we talk?” You asked.. you waited as she slowly opened her covers to see her beautiful blue eyes. You smile and trying to look the least bit intimidating.

“Hello there, I’m sorry if I scared you.. didn’t mean to. I promise I’m not here to haunt your room or your roommate.” You reassure her, the girls eyes looked you up and down and she slowly sat up out of her bed.

“So, you aren’t gonna possess us?” She said. You raised an eyebrow wondering if you can even do that. “Of course not. I promise. I’m a family friend of Wednesday.” You said, The girl looks more relieved.

“That makes more sense.” She says, and leans in to whisper, “Shes.. really unique.” Enid said, which made you smile. “She definitely is.” You turned back to Wednesday who was a bit unsure about you, but now more confident.

“So.. what do you need help with exactly?” You asked, and Wednesday gave you a pretty harrowing answer.

“What do you know.. about the Gates family?” She said, a flurry of dark painful emotions poured into your soul and although you had no physical body the anger you felt was human, it was real.

“A lot.. and good riddance to them, because they’re the reason I’m dead.” You said in a haunting whisper.

“Interesting, we’ll have to converse more about this tomorrow, but tonight I must sleep, you may leave.” She orders.

“Leave.. where?” You reply. “It’s not like I can go back. And why would I need to leave anyway?” You ask, Wednesday looks past you.

“Because you’d be creeping late at night in a dorm with two girls.” She responds, which You didn’t have much of a response to.

“Well.. when you put it like that… fine.” You give in and walk to the door, calmly phasing though the door and sitting at the other side of the hall. You stare at the door, knowing that when it opens the next morning that this will be an adventure that you would have never expected to be a part of.

[smgsyndicate]

Little!Rain & CG!Alpha

No CW, Age Regression, Kinks DNI

Regressed Rain with CG!Alpha ??? Yes .

Anyways, a 2k-something word long mindless fic about them being adorable. No warnings, just cuteness

ALSO . Suggestions and criticism is welcome and encouraged (please be nice tho lmao)

The ministry halls were unusually quiet, though that may have something to do with the time. Alpha looked down at his wrist to check the time, sighing very obnoxiously when he was met with the sight of his bare wrist. ... The fire ghoul doesn't even own a watch.

Alpha just huffs, pulling out his phone and squinting at the light as it shines the numbers 3:33am brightly in his face. He groans, turning his phone back off and scrubbing tiredly at his face before going back to what he was doing ... Pacing the halls.

Sometimes, a feeling Alpha could never get anyone else to understand, would creep up on him. The feeling brought up intense urges to make sure absolutely *everyone* was safe.

This time though, he was thankful for his un-fightable urge, rounding the corner of the water ghoul's wing when he hears a soft sniffling. His ear flicks, eyes turning to pin pricks and his breathing slowing as he listened for the soul crushing sound again. ... *There!* Right there it was again!

But if a ghoul is crying... Who? Must be a water ghoul, obviously. But *who?* The sound was too raw and bare with emotion, as opposed to the silent and angry cry of a certain ghoullette, Mist.

The sound was a shitty attempt at hiding sadness, something Chain was *never* good at. You would *always* know when Chain was upset, letting out ugly (in Chain's own humble opinion) sobs anything something upsets him.

There was a distinct lack of destruction around, leading Alpha to believe it wasn't Lake either. The older fire ghoul brushed the tips of his fingers across the doors, wondering *who* could be so sad?

The answer hit him as he heard a sad wet sniffle come from the door to his right. He pauses, turning towards it. The name "Rain" is etched in a gorgeous stone that Alpha wouldn't be able to tell you the name of, sea creatures of all shapes and sizes glued to the pretty name tag.

The guitarist stared at the door with his mouth twisted to a slight frown. It's not that he didn't like the new ghoul- quite the opposite actually. His calmer personality and soft voice was a much welcome change to the hyperactive ghouls that were Swiss, Phantom, and Sodo.

Alpha hovers his hand over the door knob, hesitating. He didn't really know the guy, opting to spend his time reading or messing around trying to make his own music. Would his help be appreciated? Or even actually helpful?

The ghoul sighs, turning to walk away but a distressed chirp catches his breath. His head whips around to face the door again, throwing caution to the wind and knocking as gently as he could. (Which isn't all that gently, but he's trying?)

The crying grows quieter before a shaky voice reaches his ears. "H-hello?" Alpha winces at the attempt of sounding normal. "Hey buddy, you doing okay? I can try to help if you need anythi-" before he could finish, the door is opened and he stumbles with the force of a water ghoul hugging him tight.

The fire ghoul's face contorts into a mix of discomfort and surprise. Alpha had no problem letting the newer summon hug him, no. The problem was ... How was he supposed to comfort the ghoul?

He hugs the shorter ghoul, rubbing his back with what he hopes is a reassuring smile and not one that expresses his current feeling of being out of his depth. "Shhh.. shh... It's alright. What's going on?"

Thankfully, Rain either doesn't notice or doesn't comment on it, hiding his face in Alpha's chest with a body wracking sob. "I- I-" Rain's gills flutter and he shakes as he tries to get his breathing regulated enough to speak. "I wan- I wanted to prac'ice my bass but when 'm got there, is was broked! The strings!"

The guitarist nodded sympathetically, but was still a bit confused. How did this all lead up to this much distress? "A-an then when I tried to fixed it? We has no more!" Alpha frowned at the water ghoul's words for a few different reasons. Firstly, he feels bad for the bassist. Secondly, the practice room is usually stocked- so he made a mental note to remind Special to order some more. Third of all... The ghoul is a mess over something that's not that big of a deal? And his words are all slightly off and it's almost like a child throwing a tantrum-

Alpha would've face palmed if not for the fact he currently had his arms full of a Rain ghoul, who is still clinging to him just as tight. He's not as experienced with the coping mechanism known as age regression, but he'd heard enough from Omega that he's confident enough that that's what he's dealing with.

With as gentle of a smile as the fire ghoul could muster, he carefully moved the water ghoul so he could see his face. "Rain, how old are you right now?" The bassist blinked at him owlishly, lashes wet and small tear tracks left in his sorrow's wake. His brow furrowed adorably, (at least in Alpha's opinion), before he softly spoke.

The older ghoul tilts his head. The answer wasn't English? "Can you repeat that, little one?" The water ghoul lets out an embarrassed chirp at the name, shyly nodding. "... Trois.." Alpha wracks his brain for information, frustrated at the lack of answers before he lets out a soft "oh." of understanding. "You're three, droplet?"

Rain just nods, biting his lip anxiously. "I- I can uhm. I can go 'way an deal with it on my own though- if you wanna. M a big ghoul... An .. droplet 's Dewy's name. Not mine! Silly!" He giggles a bit at the end, but his voice is heavy with rejection.

Alpha frowns at that, shaking his head gently and keeping his tone light as to not frighten the little ghoul. "No, no. It's alright. You can stay with me until you're feeling better. Besides, there's plenty of other names out there little guppy."

That seems to be a good enough response because soon enough he finds himself with a hand full of a purring water ghoul. A small sound catches the guitarist's attention, ear flicking. "You hungry, little one?" He says with amusement, still gently rubbing Rain's back.

Rain flushes and hides his face in embarrassment at his stomach growling. "M... Mhm..." They hum out in agreement. Alpha lets out a small "aw" at their adorable behaviour, bringing a hand up to push their curtain bangs out of their face.

"No need to be shy, dragonfly. I've got you." The fire ghoul goes to pick him up but pauses. "Is it alright to pick you u-" he's interrupted by an excited trill and Rain lifting his arms expectantly. "Uppies!" He cheers, tail wagging so quickly that it shakes him slightly.

Alpha laughs at that, picking up the excited water ghoul. Surprisingly, Rain is pretty light. He expected some sort of struggle carrying a full gown ghoul (or well,,, full grown *physically*,) but it seems not to matter. Alpha maneuvers him to be resting on his hip as he makes his way towards the kitchen, eyes flicking over to the regressed ghoul every few seconds to make sure he's alright.

The bassist pouts, fins flattening, when Alpha gently coaxes the bassist's fingers out of his own mouth. They whine, immediately going back to do the same thing again. Alpha just sighs dramatically with a smile, trying to think of something better.

Naturally, he'd give the little one a pacifier, but he's never personally dealt with this situation before. He feels out of his depth with no tools or toys or anything to help keep the water ghoul all happy. Still, he tries his best to make Rain happy.

"Shhh... None of that baby. Can you tell me what kind of drink you want? Or maybe something to eat if you feel up to it?" Alpha remembers something Omega said about some littles not wanting to eat if they feel too young, opting for a drink alternative if they can. However, the guitarist can't remember what age range the Quint had said. "Mnh... M'k.."

The fire ghoul nods, carefully setting the bassist down on the counter and grabbing the milk jug from the fridge. He hums in thought as to what container to put it in, knowing the water ghoul would spill it in his current space.

"Boddle!" Rain chirps out happily, pointing at a cabinet Alpha's never used before. The lead guitarist nods with a relieved sigh when he sees an array of different bottles and sippy cups in the cabinet. He pulls out a blue one with cute little sea creatures on it and closes the cupboard, pouring the milk into the bottle and moving to put it in the microwave.

He stops when he hears a distressed whine, turning to see the bassist frowning at him and reaching for the bottle. "Oh, I'm just heating it up for you little one. Don't worry, you'll get it soon enough."

This doesn't seem to please Rain, making him whine louder and shake his head. Alpha swears he remembers Omega saying that he should heat up the milk, saying regressors would find the warmth soothing and it would be easier to make them take a nap, but in this moment? Alpha just wants the bassist to be happy.

Definitely not because Rain has him bending to his every demand with big round eyes and watery tears threatening to emerge and a sad little pout on his face .. ... No, definitely not. Alpha hands the bottle to the water ghoul, watching him fumble with it for a moment before chuckling and taking it back.

"Right. Forgot. You're just a little thing, aren't you?" He says fondly, big blue eyes blinking back at him owlishly. "Come here, you." He says, scooping up Rain as best he can despite only being a bit taller than the little ghoul.

Alpha carries him to the couch, sitting down carefully and putting the bottle down. He reaches over and grabs the spare blanket they always leave there in case they find a sleeping ghoul on the couch and wraps it around the bassist, swaddling him as best as he can.

Rain chirps and trills loudly at that, making Alpha chuckle. "You like that, huh? Being all comfy and cozy?" The water ghoul doesn't really reply, just happily nuzzling against the lead guitarist with happy little sounds.

The fire ghoul hums. "Alright, alright. Let's get something in your tummy now, hm?" Alpha paused, realizing he's been talking out loud to basically himself since Rain's too little to respond.

He stays quiet, feeling slightly embarrassed as he picks up the bottle and brings the nip to the little ghoul's mouth. Rain blinks at it before looking up at Alpha.

The fire ghoul sighs, realizing the water ghoul liked him talking. "Alright, alright, fine. You win. Now drink your bottle before I die of worry you silly thing. C'mon, open please baby." The bassist doesn't quite understand for a moment but with the help of Alpha trying to work it into his mouth, the water ghoul happily starts to suckle on the bottle. He purrs in-between gulps of milk, eyes closing and body relaxed peacefully as he drinks.

"Thereeee you go, buddy! Good job! You must be starving, huh? All tired out from such an exhausting day, hm? We'll go restring your bass tomorrow, okay? Right now, just rest up and relax." Rain chirps, happily drinking the bottle still.

Alpha just smiles softly when he notices the milk starting to drip down the bassist's chin, gently removing the bottle and wiping off the spilt milk gently. "I guess that's naptime, little shark." He says quietly, slowly standing up and carrying Rain to his room.

He looks around, never having been in the newer summons room before. The walls are painted with an ocean mural, all sorts of sea creatures and coral painted as well. Alpha carefully lays the little water ghoul down on the bed, adjusting the blanket and pulling another over him to make sure he's comfortable.

Rain whines quietly, wiggling a bit and chewing on his lip. Alpha tsk'd and gently pulled the bassist's fangs away from his own lip. "None of that, little one. Settle back down and go back to sleep baby ghoul."

The fire ghoul noticed a small box sticking out from under the bed, pulling it out and opening it to see some little gear. He smiled and picked up a small green pacifier with a little fish charm on it. "Here you go, this should be better, yeah?"

Alpha gently slips the pacifier into Rain's mouth, watching the water ghoul easily relax at the soothing pressure. The fire sighs, feeling slightly disappointed at having to leave now. "Alright... Sleep well little one."

He stands up to walk away but is stopped by a heartbreaking whine. When he turns back, the bassist is looking back at him with big watery eyes, begging him to stay.

The lead guitarist can't help the small smile. "Alright baby. I'll stay." He says softly, moving onto the bed and holding Rain close to his chest protectively. "Sleep tight, little rainbow." Alpha kissed the little ghoul's forehead, happily falling asleep to the sound of quiet happy little purrs.

[calxia]

(This is a continuation of this post here)

Water ghouls live in the great lakes and oceans of the pit. Most will never come to the surface and will live under the water their whole life. A very few select packs will come to the surface to have their young in tide pools before retreating back under the water when they are competent swimmers, but these are the outliers.

The water is thick and tar-like in most of the pit and rich with salt and minerals. Very little light penetrates down into the depths so most water ghouls rely on echolocation and are completely blind. The water ranges from boiling hot in the underground magma caves to freezing cold by the icy mountains.

Water ghouls tend to be solitary and will split away from their familial packs as soon as they are old enough to hunt. They tend to be the most vicious and adept hunters of all ghoul types.

Rain originates from the underground rivers near lava flows. When he's summoned, it's his first time ever that he's not been submerged since he was born and lived his whole life underwater. Going from breathing with gills to lungs is hard and he feels like he's suffocating for a few seconds before his instincts kick in and he figures out the whole breathing thing.

It's also so cold. Water ghouls are ectotherms and rely on the stable temperatures of their habitat to stay at a comfortable temperature. When they transition to the surface, their natural thermoregulatory systems will kick in eventually, but a freshly summoned water ghoul will still rely on their surroundings for warmth. The water near lava lakes run hot and the surface is already colder than most parts of the pit. The ministry has lost freshly summoned water ghouls before because they were adapted to the scorching hot temperatures and couldn't find adequate heat on the surface to let their body's function. That's why the ministry made sure they had a fire ghoul present for the summoning. They assign Dew to Rain until he is able to adapt to the surface temperatures.

Despite having such an extreme change in climate after being summoned, Rain adapts extremely well. It helps that he has Mist and Dew (who was originally a water ghoul) to guide him in acclimating

[bluravenite]

What are your favorite things about fire rain? Also I’m devouring your fire rain design I love it so much it’s so pretty and creative I love it and ily 💚💚

Fire ghoul rain timeline headcanons I think because it just means I can develop his backstory?

CW: ghoul backstory shenanigans, general angst I stuff, murder/violence/self-hate vocab may be present, not aiming for triggering but I want everyone to be able to feel safe reading it so just watch out! Happy ending tho :3

Fire ghoul Rain would be violent and agile, I think.

When rain gets summoned as water ghoul he and dew get along easily, dew would be supposed to pass down his position to him, they are both aware of their situation and dew pleads to rain to let him bite the bullet.

"I'm older, I've been here longer, I can take it-" cries dew.

"if I don't turn into fire myself they'll burn me to ashes, lilypad"

"there has to be a way.. Rain, fuck!... please??" Cries dew again...

Rain would betray dew I think, put him to bed, swear nothing will happen ever, that they'll never separate them, or hurt them, until dew hears the screams in the middle of the night. The heat emanating from the stone and wood feels dry and hot... almost debilitating, but still everyone makes it down to him, and there in the middle the still small, long frame of the once water ghoul, writhing in pain, his fins and gills actively burning out, suturing at the core, engraving the scars into his skin. He cries and screams. There is a blue glow surrounding him, and then an orange red hue, which at this hour, the ghouls cannot tell if it's coming from the early rising sun, or from the hellfire itself, burning inside their packmate.

The recovery period is spent with dew... who refuses to let go of his mate, as much as rain pushes him away at times and struggles to communicate with the little water ghoul.

And Dew is angry. Rising like a riptide, he flicks his hair and gives him the pout™ and rain feels the guilt consume inside him. Dew rants away, condescendingly, disapproving. It's the only way he knows to show his worry.. his own guilt... the disappointment. And rain takes it because he knows deep down he deserves every minute of it. It was a calculated risk and he took it on purpose, and he forgives and forgets, and he holds dew right in his arms placing his forehead just behind dewdrop's jawline... and for a minute, he cannot stop the tears.

And Dew sees him... understands him. just like dew will forever be his lilypad, rain, will always be his rain. Dew is that last bit of water he can cling onto in a desert of fire and pain.

At first the powers are terrible... he burns himself constantly, he lives on the infirmary for the most part, between aether, mountain and dew, making sure his skin doesn't fall off. Ifrit tries to help... teaching him, guiding him and it sometimes works... then there's alpha... alpha who will not take his eyes off dewdrop, who will not shut his mouth about the pretty little water thing he is... and it boils everyone's blood, and rain knows the way mist scolds alpha for running his mouth, the way he tires every time she steps in front of him to stop his bullshit, and he knows... as a water Ghoul he could only do so much as mist did. But as a fire ghoul?

As a fire ghoul alpha would also make stupid condescending comments about his lack of control, his weakness, the way his body rejected itself... it's elements... how pathetic it was of him to not even naturally have fire. As a fire ghoul, Rain could prove alpha wrong, as a fire ghoul rain could step in and let alpha pick on someone his own element... and thought smaller in size... stronger in fire.

Rain is violent, and quick. Anyone who dares look at Dew in the wrong way gets a hiss directly to the face from Rain. The quick protective motion, bait and switch. Pushing the smaller ghoul behind him, lighting himself up like a wall of flame between the danger and its target. And it burns, just the cold dead stare of the turned fire ghoul through the hissing. The threat is not that rain will attack, he is small and lanky still. The real threat is that he cannot hurt anymore than his body already hurts itself the fire burns so hot that even rain cannot feel it... that he no longer has warmth to lose with death, he does not fear. And he is willing to put everything on the line for dew, so a hiss is usually all it takes for any ghoul to know their place near dew and with rain.

He is ruthless and cold, despite his element.

And still every day, hour, minute, and second is a struggle. His body hates itself, his mind fights him, his past haunts him, his future quivers before him. And his pack all has thoughts and feelings they'll never end or speak up. And it will always be uncertain how things would've gone for him if they had found other ways, other outs... but why dwell in the past, when the only certainty is that his one promise to dew, that they'll never be apart again, remains kept.

Have mercy I proofread once and it's 4 am as I'm writing this... on the queue we go...

[hellboundwrites]

Ghouls ships and how they love

Sunshine and Mist : Healing Love

Sunshine and Mist's love is redemption.

When Sunshine learns her voice isn't what the band needs anymore, she falls. One day, she's on the road with her family, and the next, she's left behind with the knowledge that they'll have someone else to take her place and continue her dream.

The abbey has never been so silent.

She never knew before what the past ghouls were to do once they were deprived of their functions. Where they went. She only guessed they just disappeared from the spotlight and became ghosts. How ironic. That seems to be the destiny of everyone who has ever been involved in the Project - even the Papas.

She never cared about all of these invisible spirits before. They didn't affect her. She was only rising.

Now she knows.

She knows the way to Mist's room like it's her own. Who found the other first ? Neither of them has that answer. It seemed they were both longing for each other long before they met. Mist who has been alone for so many years, and who long ago abandoned all hope of finding someone like her. And Sunshine who doesn't know how to hold her grief on her own without imploding.

Mist knows how to deal with disappointment and teaches all she learned to Sunshine.

They share love through their hands.

Mist's hands have always characterized her well. They used to be small, with short and colorful nails, but strong and able to hold her heavy bass. Their strength was once invested in music, but she has left most of it in the past. Now her hands are the product of slow and attentive labor, and unconditional love for all things left behind by others. Her hands bring back life to everything they touch.

It turns out, Sunshine learns, that there's a life after all that glory. It's modest and quiet but it's gentle and everything in it has value. Even a fallen ghoul like her.

Every day she joins Mist in her workshop, where everything is salvaged. Here, with a warm light behind handmade curtains, ripped sheets are sewed back together, stains are cleansed, electronics are repaired, shoes are patched up, and old furniture gets fresh paint. Rare are the things that do not find new purposes. Sometimes an object can't be fixed, so it has to be transformed.

Being here, assisting Mist in her chosen retirement plan instead of singing in a shiny costume somewhere beyond the sea - none of it was Sunshine's purpose when she was summoned. But alongside Mist, she learns, she fixes, she rebuilds.

Sometimes they allow themselves to fall back into their past. Sunshine hums while she works and everyone who picks up or drops an item for them at the workshop asks to hear more. Mist enjoys it the most, but never speaks a word about it. She just brings Sunshine to her room one day and lets her see her collection of instruments, also retired and only occasionally used to entertain old passion and nostalgia.

Nothing will ever kill their hunger for music. But they now perform on their own little stage, for each other and anyone who'd like to join.

Sometimes, they fix each other. Calloused hands, after a long day of work, find a body to rest on. They explore locks of hair, soft cheeks, the curve of a hip... And they know what to do with everything the Clergy doesn't see value in. Soft voices and experienced fingers meet and comfort and cherish.

This life is not smaller than what they were originally given. It's something different. Their presence in the confines of the workshop is a necessary one. They take everything the Clergy would throw out and give it back a sense of future. Some of the people who ask for their help forget the damage and simply thank them for giving them hope. Some people want the thing they love back and do not care for the shiny and new.

What their love does... It's giving new meanings to fallen ambitions and renewing faith in lost futures.

It's healing the broken.

Part 1. Rain and Dewdrop

Part 2. Cirrus and Cumulus

Part 3. Mountain and Swiss

Part 4. Ifrit and Zephyr

Find me on AO3

[aishangotome]

Main Story Chapter 15-13: A Murder (一次謀殺) | Light  and Night 光與夜之戀

Please consider reading Chapter 15-11 before you proceed

I forced my eyes open and wondered if night had come in just a few seconds.

The small room was filled with humanoid figures, their bodies shrouded in a black mist that blocked out all lights from the windows.

I recognized Aunt Chu, who stood closest to us, her shoulders gradually chipped from the rising darkness, her usual bland and gentle expression turning sour.

???: Do you insist on seeking death?

???: Why don't you listen?

???: Bad children, bad children.

The jumble of words sounded like some kind of mantra or incantation, the bodies of the spirits twisting, some hands and feet indistinguishable, some having huge holes in their chests.

They became more and more similar to the those spirits summoned by Jesse.

The scene in the archive room became clear again, and I didn't want nor could I let Jesse fight like that again.

Although their presence here meant that our movements were being watched, I moved two steps closer to Jesse, as close to him as I could get.

You: Tangyuan, let's run first. We don't want to get caught in the crossfire.

Jesse: But I don't think we are at a disadvantage.

He lowered his voice, but his tone was very relaxed.

I turned my head in surprise and confusion, and met a pair of bright eyes that were brighter than ever.

Jesse took out a talisman. It was a jet black color that was different from anything I had ever seen.

You: What is your plan?

Jesse: It's not really a plan. I have a speculation.

You: But--

Jesse: Don't worry, it's not the kind of speculation that involves fighting.

He held my hand and looked at the souls in front of him, and his voice was so clear that it drowned out all the reverie in the room.

Jesse: The "qi" in your bodies is a sign of turning into a resentful soul. Are you all willing to let that happen?

???: Little Taoist priest, you have magic protection, ordinary souls cannot hurt you.

???: Since you refuse to listen to our advice, this is all we can do.

Jesse: Then that's what you should have done yesterday instead of taking that weird shape.

Jesse: I just want to tell you that I have already seen everything hidden in here.

Jesse: If you had wanted to stop me from discovering the hidden things in here, you are too late.

He walked towards the spirits, not moving too fast in the space, but the black figures suddenly seemed hesitant.

Jesse smiled. As if in front of his eyes were not the souls trying to take our lives, but instead many old friends of his.

He walked up to Chu Ying and covered the gap in her shoulder with the piece of black paper, and the two quickly fused together.

Jesse: Aunt Chu, are you feeling better?

It seemed that she could no longer maintain the fierce expression she had earlier. Her face changed, first to one of surprise, then to one of helplessness, and finally to one of resignation. She slowly raised her hand and touched her shoulder.

???: Mommy!

A little girl emerged from the crowd and rushed over to hug her leg lightly. I remembered her face; it was Chu Ying's daughter, Yi Qing.

Although spirits were not able to cry anymore, I somehow still seemed to see a face full of tears on the little girl.

She timidly hid behind her mother, looking at us with only one eye.

Yi Qing: Thank you... both of you.

Aunt Chu: Yi Qing!

Yi Qing: But mommy once told me that we need to thank people who help us.

Jesse: Mm, no need to thank me.

Jesse blinked at them, and without waiting for Aunt Chu's answer, he spread his fingers lightly, holding several identical black talismans between his fingers.

He held them in his palm and turned them into dust. Another gust of wind caused the dust to fall like ink in rain, and the fog in the room gradually dissipated.

After the misty rain, the souls looked at each other in confusion. Unexpectedly, their bodies were no longer mutilated.

Jesse: Any later and it would have been irreversible.

Jesse: All things in the world are between life and death, but those who hold resent or grudges cannot seek life or death.

???: Then can you listen to us and give up the investigation, so that we don't have to be resentful spirits?

???: That's all we ask.

A stubborn voice came through, and a boy leapt high in front of Jesse. Literally so high that the top of his head almost touched the ceiling.

You: Chen Chen?

Chen Chen: It's me.

He dropped down a little and sat on the shoulders of another young soul.

Jesse: In that case, can I make a request?

Chen Chen: What request?

Jesse: Why are we not allowed to investigate? I want to know the reason.

Chen Chen: Didn't we tell you already that we were the ones who killed Sun Taizhong?

???: Chen Chen, it's fine.

This time, it was a slightly authoritative voice. The spirits separated a bit, and an old man came forward. His hair was white, and his face was covered in ravines.

Jesse looked at him with a calm expression.

Jesse: It's you. Long time no see.

Grandpa Lee: What is that supposed to mean? I've only just met you and this young woman yesterday.

Jesse: You didn't look like this yesterday.

Grandpa Lee: So, you recognized me yesterday.

Grandpa Lee: It seems that this Little Taoist Priest's eyesight are no longer what it used to be.

Jesse: I just suspected it.

Jesse: But since you say that, now I'm sure.

The old man was stunned for a moment and then laughed, his voice loud and clear, as if it was coming from his chest.

You: Are you the one from the lab?---

Grandpa Lee: I am the one from the lab. My last name is Lee. Nice to meet you.

The old man held out his hand to me, and not knowing whether I had understood him correctly, I hesitantly extended my hand to shake his.

His back was straight, his eyes looked down, his jaw remained level, and his movements were extremely crisp and clean.

Was this grandpa in the military? As I was thinking about this, it was as if Jesse and I had connected our thoughts and he spoke the answer.

Jesse: He was in the Navy, and he was the first stranded spirit I had ever met.

Jesse: I should have led him to the Realm of Enlightenment, but I realized that he could only resolve his attachment in the human world.

Grandpa Lee: Not bad. Thanks to little Jesse, I was able to resolve the knot in my heart.

Jesse turned to the old man. When he heard "knot in my heart" just now, he seemed to remember something, his demeanor freezing for a moment, then returning back to normal.

Jesse: You looked like you were ready to leave. Why didn't you? What happened?

I've seen Jesse helping souls with attachments, and as he said, some attachments can only be accomplished in this world, while others have to go to the realm of attachments and wait for a few years before they could be liberated.

Jesse said that the soul who stays in the world would consume anger and deplete their energy, resulting in their soul dissolving away.

Grandpa Lee has stayed for at least six years. Chu Ying, Chen Chen have stayed even longer than that. How long could their souls anger last?

He and Jesse had met overseas. Does he have something to do with Yuda Academy? If not, then why is he here?

Doubts continued to grow, and no matter what, I just could not understand. I could only see the smile on the old man's face fade away, his brows becoming cold and hard.

Grandpa Lee: I stayed to punish the murderer, Sun Taizhong. What else could there be?

Jesse: But your grandson is Lee, not Xiao Jia.

Grandpa Lee: There was also a kid named Xiao Jia in the school, and he always had a grandfather who was about the same age as me.

Grandpa Lee: Whether that grandpa was me or not is not important.

Grandpa Lee: Before I left, I read about the French media's exposure of the Yuda Academy.

Grandpa Lee: I heard that besides the person in charge, there were several other murderers on the loose.

Grandpa Lee: I couldn't stand it. I've always acted according to my own temperament, and I didn't want that to change even though I am now a dead man.

Jesse: Then can you tell? From whom did you hear that there was still someone on the loose?

The room suddenly quieted down, all the souls coincidentally stopped whispering, as if the question asked by Jesse was the only bullet in a pile of shell casings.

Jesse picked it up, loaded it into his gun, and broke the shadowed glass.

He looked at the people in front of him, his face almost solemn.

Uncle Xia wrote down the possible locations, Jesse helping the old man, the experiences that Chu Ying and Chen Chen have gone through, they were all kinds of coincidences entangled together--

Jesse: You heard it from my father, didn't you?

I wasn't surprised by the answer, as if it had come out of my own mouth.

Jesse: I want to hear the real reason for why we are not allowed to investigate this case.

Jesse: You have told too many lies and covered up too many things, each of which has to be made up with more lies and cover-ups.

Jesse: That's why I'm always guessing, doubting, never trusting you, and certainly never stopping the investigation.

He looked at each of the spirits as if to recognize them. I could clearly see that some of the spirits moved a little behind their companions and hid their faces.

Jesse: Something to do with Yuda Academy, or something to do with my father; which is the common denominator?

Jesse: Did you guys really want to kill him?

Jesse: If Y/N hadn't heard you crying that day and hadn't stopped me.

Jesse: Were you really going to let those kids go up in smoke for no reason?

His voice was trembling.

I felt a coldness coming from my hand, and lowered my head to see Yi Qing standing between me and Jesse. The soles of her feet were rubbing on the ground, and her fingers looked like they were grabbing my clothes.

Yi Qing: Big brother, don't worry. Chen Chen and I didn't go that day.

After she said those words softly and hurriedly, she immediately hid behind my back when she realized that Jesse had turned his eyes her way.

The old man sighed, and his face, which had always been resolute, softened.

Grandpa Lee: You've guessed correctly.

Jesse smiled at him, which should have been a wry smile, but was a bit forced at the moment.

Jesse: Every time you guys respond, it helps me prove that my suspicions are correct.

Grandpa Lee: Chen Chen was needed in the lab because he was one of the few of us who had experienced Yuda Academy.

Grandpa Lee: The rest of the children had been removed by your father at that time.

Grandpa Lee: As for Yi Qing---

Chu Ying: It's her who can't stay away from me. Ever since that incident, the child has been too afraid of life to set foot on the path of reincarnation.

Chu Ying: She's always been there with me, your father told me. It made me so happy when I died.

Chu Ying: I will take her with me for as long as I can.

Yi Qing nodded at my feet. For her, the sight of the bloody scene in the lab was probably no more terrifying than being separated from her mother.

Jesse: Did my father not forcibly extradite you, or send you to the realm of the dead?

Jesse: But he has always told me that I should do that.

Chu Ying smiled, fading away from her present expression as she looked at Jesse with an infinitely softer gaze.

Chu Ying: Parent's don't always listen to their own advice, and that's normal.

Chu Ying: He may have taught you what he wished he could have done, but did not do.

Jesse pursed his lips. I remembered the last time we met here, he had asked me: do even the closest and most familiar people have a side that we do not understand?

He was asking about his father, and at the time, I was thinking about our relationship, so I missed the opportunity to respond to him properly.

For a long time, Uncle Xia was our childhood imaginary enemy, the big boss in fairy tales, the one who he had to impress.

One day, however, we would see the weakness and vulnerability of this majestic figure, and this breakdown would become an opportunity to heal the relationship.

It's just that for me and Jesse, this day came so late.

Jesse was silent for a long time before reopening his mouth. It was as if he had heard Chu Ying's words too truly, and after a long time, these words still could not fall from his heart.

Jesse: So you guys didn't kill anyone.

Grandpa Lee: We did not kill anyone.

Jesse: You guys didn't want to kill Y/N.

Grandpa Lee: We didn't want to kill her. We felt guilty for making her suffer like that.

His yellow eyes turned to me, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes clearly knitted together.

Even as a soldier, I never raised a weapon against an unarmed man.

You: I could feel that you didn't want to kill me, but I just didn't understand your relationship with Uncle Xia at that time.

Grandpa Lee: Thank you, miss. That makes me feel a lot less guilty.

He took off his hat and gave me a salute.

Jesse: That's great.

Jesse: I don't want the people I helped, or the people he helped. to be the ones who hurt the innocent.

The whispers of Jesse came from his side, as if he were telling a wish that he would make on his birthday when he was still young.

Grandpa Lee: I just want to return the favor, son, whether it's to you or your father.

Grandpa Lee: The others here have the same wish. They have been helped by you, both in life and in death.

The spirits finally stopped retreating and looked at us, and their forms changed a bit. What was once huge is now not so huge, and what was once fuzzy has become clearly humanoid.

As the black shadows separated, I realized that there were not as many spirits in the room as I had imagined, and that the dense crowd was just a visual trap.

You: It turns out that souls can really change shapes.

Grandpa Lee: It just takes time, and it took us five years of trying, but we're finally comfortable enough to change, and thankfully it's not too late.

The "monsters" I saw that night, the faceless spirits in the lab, were the result of a deliberate act. They were repaying Jesse and his father.

No one wanted to hurt us, and we did not hurt anyone. The soul was an old acquaintance of Jesse and Uncle Xia.

For a moment, I was almost immersed in this seemingly happy ending, but there was still something else, a contradiction in their words.

You: Grandpa Lee, but how is stopping the investigation returning a favor to Jesse?

You: Whether it is Uncle Xia or Jesse, isn't the truth what they want the most?

Grandpa Lee glanced at the papers scattered on the floor and the unopened letter made me think that he would have picked it up if he could.

Grandpa Lee: Miss, do you believe that a man can go through life and never waver in his convictions?

You: I... don't know. But it must be hard to do that.

The old man nodded slowly.

Grandpa Lee: That is why our understanding of returning a favor is different.

Grandpa Lee: At least when I met Jesse's father in France six years ago, it wasn't the truth that he was after.

What could it have been? For the truth, Uncle Xia had given up his family life.

I peeked at the side of Jesse's face, and his expression was a little complicated, like he was expecting Grandpa Lee's words, but also like he was afraid to listen to them.

Grandpa Lee: At that time, little Jesse was helping me to solve the problem with my grandson, and I could see that he was disturbed by his relationship with his father.

Grandpa Lee: So I decided to at least see what his father was like before I left.

Grandpa Lee: He saw me, recognized me, and the first thing he said was, "Did Jesse fail?"

Grandpa Lee: Little Jesse, he's just as tough as you said he was, and a lot tougher than I am.

A smile appeared on Jesse's face and he nodded.

Grandpa Lee: I told him you were doing a great job, and that you're a good, compassionate, sincere kid.

Grandpa Lee: I think he heard me and didn't mention the extradition of my soul.

Grandpa Lee: But he never spoke to me again. It was as if I didn't exist.

Grandpa Lee: In the afternoon, he boarded a plane, flew back from France to Guangqi, and came to the house without stopping anywhere.

Grandpa Lee: After entering the house, he spent the night putting together the model plane.

Grandpa Lee looked up and saw Chen Chen fidgeting with the model hanging from the ceiling, with one wing going up and down, as if it could fly.

Grandpa Lee: I met Chen Chen here, who was always nearby to remind him where to put the parts of the airplane.

Jesse: Well, he's not really good at working on building models. When I was a kid and we would work on models together, I'd be the one to put them together.

Jesse: But I'm glad I was better than him at something, especially when it's rare for him to play with me.

Grandpa Lee: Little Jesse, he probably felt the same way, that he spent too little time with you.

Grandpa Lee: Those papers you just saw, it was him who put them down here too.

Grandpa Lee: Having done this, he then went to pray in front of the shrine.

Grandpa Lee: He said he had secretly completed everything related to the case.

Grandpa Lee: He and his family would never intervene in this fight again, and asked his ancestors to keep his wife and child safe.

Grandpa Lee: I don't know if the ancestors were listening to him or if they would respond to your father's request.

Grandpa Lee: But Little Jesse, I heard what was said, so I had to take responsibility for those words.

Grandpa Lee: Chen Chen, Chu Ying, and all the people here had the same idea.

Grandpa Lee: We wandered the world looking for a chance to finally do something for you and your father.

As if he had remembered something, a strange blush appeared on his face.

Jesse: Then when my father passed away---!

A look of shame appeared on the faces of the spirits, and the old man opened his mouth as his voice grew hoarse.

Grandpa Lee: At that time we were trapped, and over the years many people have tried to extradite or capture us.

Grandpa Lee: Some of them were so strong that I couldn't escape easily. But in the end, it was my own incompetence.

Grandpa Lee: Little Jesse, I'm sorry.

Grandpa Lee: And your mother, we were there for her, but we couldn't stop her, we couldn't even talk to her.

Jesse stood upright, his back trembling slightly.

Jesse: Don't apologize. It's not your fault. If anything, I'm the one who should apologize.

Jesse: Wandering around the world takes a lot of strength, and you've been holding out for so long---

He hung his head so deeply that no one could see his expression.

Jesse: It's been tough for you guys.

My ears were filled with small sobs. Aunt Chu covered her face, her shoulders shrugged, and I suddenly realized that even if they didn't have tears, the feeling of wanting to cry was still the same.

Like like this moment, I leaned over, my chest bulging with sourness, tears dripping on the floor in dark traces.

When he lifted his head again, Jesse had calmed down a lot.

Jesse: So, you're trying to keep me out of danger by stopping me from pursuing this case over and over again?

Grandpa Lee: We know that if you close this case successfully, you'll be officially inducted into the Lian Shan association.

Grandpa Lee: That is the path that your father, and us, never wanted you to take.

Grandpa Lee: I'm old, but I still have the intuition that it's simply the biggest vortex there is.

Grandpa Lee: Misleading you, hoping you'll come to the wrong judgment, was all we could do.

Grandpa Lee: I just didn't think it would expose our connection to your father.

Jesse: And that's how I got into this room, which had been closed for eight years, and saw the model and the papers, which was a real coincidence.

This means that no one is at fault, but the final step was left to fate. Good or bad, we just had to accept it and wait for the consequences.

Jesse smiled and looked at the spirits. The expression of remorse on the soul's face faded a bit because of his reaction.

Jesse: I haven't read the letter yet. Can I read it now?

Grandpa Lee: Go ahead, kid. But even we do not know what is written in there.

The long, opened envelope was on the table.

The letter paper was slowly pulled out. Dozens of pairs of eyes were tightly fixed on Jesse's hand, but the only sound in the room was the sound of two deliberate breathing sounds in the room.

Jesse: Miss, why are you so nervous?

You: I don't know. It just seems like any thing could happen right now.

Jesse: Mm, yeah.

You: Tangyuan, but no matter what happens, we will always be together.

Jesse: But of course.

The paper unfolds. What will be in it? Is it the important evidence of Yuda Academy, the words of a father to his child, or---

--a blank sheet of paper.

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You can now read Chapter 15-15 here!

If you'd like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[voraciousartistry]

“I am the last of my kind, who are you to judge my actions?!” Lecra roared. The grip on his gavel tightening as his seemingly calm demeanor was quickly eroded away by an unrelenting rage. 

“I am the last Drah Ci’an, I survived the purge, the fall of my people, I alone was spared the destruction of my race.” His words filling with vitriolic hatred for the one standing before him, his own arcana spilling putin great waves, what had been a mist of light rain was now walls of near solid rain and ice. 

The soldiers were starting to falter, it was clear none had the fortitude or the constitution to withstand such an onslaught of arcana. Slowly they started backing away, some still firing their rifles at the walls of ice that encroached on them. And yet, their weakness only further enraged the towering ancient. How could such a pathetic species have replaced his mighty people. 

“I spared you out of pity.”

Lecra’s eyes widened sharply. The voice was emotionless, not cold but there was no feeling behind it, as though the person speaking barely accepted him as another sentient being.

Standing before him was a sight that he thought long buried. The long dark purple hair covering her right eye, her violent magenta eyes looking toward the soldiers. Her purple coat swaying gently in the chamber as the blade on her hip sat motionless. But the sight that shook him  the most was the dark purple tail that slinked out from under her coat, ending in a large sting. The soldiers behind her seemed to understand this was their cue to leave and slowly retreated out the many exits.

“You, you’re not possible.” Lecra stuttered as the woman stood. It was simply not possible for this creature to be before him, she was a memory, a terrible nightmare that haunted his dreams. How could she be standing before him?

“Yes now I see. You’re an illusion. One of those soldiers must have cast a human spell that shows my deepest fears.” Manic laughter filled the chamber as Lecra started to lose not only composure but all sense of reality.

Her head turned gently toward him, eyes glowing faintly.

“It’s clear that was a mistake.”

The chamber rocked as she unleashed her Arcana, Lecra’s waves of ice were instantly obliterated as a wall of dark magenta energy lashed out in all directions, tearing through the ancient stone as though it were paper. Looking toward his feet, the workings of a new arcana field had taken shape, his own field was nowhere to be seen, whether erased or consumed by hers there was no way to know. 

She hadn’t moved, she wasn’t even casting a spell, this was just her surface level arcana, she hadn’t actually done anything yet. This single thought sent a spike of fear through the now terrified Lecra. 

“Do you know why I chose them?”

As more of the chamber began to disintegrate, Lecra summoned what was left of his power, the Arcana storage below pumping out whatever remained of the stolen energy. If he could hold her back he might be able to escape, he would live, if only just.

A thunderous explosion rocked the chamber, a distinct blue glow appearing to rupture from under the stone floor, quickly becoming a gout of arcane energy that launched toward the chamber's ceiling. The woman smiled as she darted toward him, her blade drawn. Her arcana field was now tangible as it seared his flesh, his eyes wincing at the stinging pain. His power, or what was left of it, disappeared as the arcana storage vessels below ruptured one after the other sending more erupting gouts of glowing blue energy into the chamber.

“When hope is lost and they stare into oblivion. It’s the abyss that blinks first.”

She was right on him, her blade, the infamous Empires Oblivion drawn and ready to end his existence. As his strength withered under the relentless arcane assault forced against him, he roared and swung his gavel. If he could just stagger her.

In an instant she was gone, vanished from view. A shift in the magenta field drew his sight upward. He froze. Her wings glinted in the still erupting blue energy, her massive tail with the nightmarish sting swayed gently behind her. Floating deftly above ready to erase him was her, Miasta, the First Empress of the Drah Ci’an Empire.

He couldn’t let this be it, he had to survive, she wasn’t a Drah Ci’an anymore, he was the only one. He needed to run. As he turned, his vision went black as she dropped from above, her blade carving through him. Her voice calm, as though whispering on the wind.

“Hear the world ending.”

The chamber vanished in a violent magenta and shadowy inferno, the stonework disappearing as the sheer force of her power rent it from reality. A spherical blast stretching out, obliterating everything in its path as dozens of dark spikes of arcana launched from all directions, shattering the sky above, the world seeming to quake as the entire valley was ripped apart. 

Miasta’s arcana field lashed out across the continent, every person capable of sensing the magical power froze outright or shuddered in terror. Such a release of arcana was the equivalent of a star being born dozens of times over. Even those unable to sense the arcana stared in fear at the growing light show that pierced the sky above. A Skyship Captain would later testify that the Arcana field covered half the continent, the brilliant magenta glow lighting up the darkened night as tears in reality spread across the sky, waves of energy ramming his craft and threatening to capsize it. Through each tear never before seen stars and even other worlds were clearly visible as reality was broken and then remade over and over again.

The First Arch Magus, once thought to be the oldest living being on the continent noted down on that night that the world had once again borne witness to the force that erased the ancients.

Had this in my head a while, might refine it later.

[brinkofdiscovery]

New Moons

Contains: A new sad oc

New oc!! New story! I wanted to try out a more descriptive approach to my writing this time. Here he is!!

----

A flash of white blinded the forest like a lightning strike. Heat swallowed the trees, the animals, even the rocks along the riverbank from the pouring rain, and dried it all in a fraction of a second. Birds scattered, light danced, and then all at once it was done. The light faded, the rain began to fall again, and a deep chill seeped back into the air.

Left behind was a haze of warm mist over a newly-dried forest floor, steam rising from the fur of shaking, dazed animals, and a man laying face down in the center of it all.

He was awake, his wide eyes unfocused and his mouth open as his lungs refused to pull in air. Shallow breaths came at first, though they felt like nothing at all.

Breathe, he told himself. In equal parts he was suffocating, falling, floating. Breathe. Breathe.

One sharp, ragged gasp filled his lungs with air. His chest burned as shallow choking turned to labored breathing. Slowly, he became aware of the ground beneath him, the water on his back, even the sound and the earthy smell of rain.

“Agatha…” He said, still face down as he caught his breath. The rain poured, soaking into his clothes and cooling the air around him. He could feel cold air on his skin, and though the rain slowly turned the dried earth to mud beneath him, he didn't have the will to turn himself over just yet. He let himself lay face down, turning his focus to the world around him instead.

There was peace, silence aside from the gentle babbling of the creek. There was no taste of rot or smoke in the air around him. It was dark, though he attributed that to his eyes still adjusting from the blast.

He tasted mud, and finally decided against drowning himself in a puddle just yet. Only able to summon the strength to turn himself onto his back, he found himself staring into the canopy of trees overhead. He could make out unusual, winding branches, the way they stretched into the night sky, and the three moons that floated beautifully behind them.

A smile spread across his lips, his chest heaved with a flood of agony and emotion. Pain, grief, joy, all flooded his senses, and despite the way his lungs protested, he dropped his head back and began to laugh. He couldn’t tell the difference between rain and tears as he laid there, laughing and letting the icy chill soak through his clothes and into his bones.

“Agatha,” He repeated, “Agatha. It worked. It worked. We did it.”

Silence answered him, his smile faltered.

“Agatha.” He repeated.

The rain fell gently into the running river.

He closed his eyes. His furrowed brow and trembling lip betrayed him as he reached a hand out into the space beside him.

“Agatha.” He whispered, “Please.”

Rain fell. The air was still.

He brought one arm beneath himself, sitting up to look through the moonlit forest that surrounded him. His cane rested in the leaves beside him, the only thing it seemed the blast had brought with him.

He paused for a moment, lifting his cane from the mud that slowly threatened to swallow it. It might be ruined now.

He laid down again, holding his cane in his folded arms across his chest. He stared up to the sky. Triplet moons floated gently overhead. He was safe, and he was alone.

[iomadachd]

6.

Dewdrop was summoned as a water ghoul, and to play bass. He was called to replace Mist, and that was fine. He liked the bass, liked his bandmates, and enjoyed the camaraderie of it.

It was weird to share space with ghouls of all different elements, and it was real fuckin’ clear that humans had no idea how Ghoul dynamics worked, but it was nice. It was a sense of belonging, of having a purpose.

Honestly, the weirdest part was being named, not by Papa, or by the Ministry, but by fans of the band. The fans named him Dewdrop, which was almost sickeningly cute, but it made sense.

Water ghouls felt… intangible. Mist and Dewdrop, things that faded away in the sunlight. Before them, the water ghouls had no official names, only given nicknames after the fact. At least, as far as he was aware, that was the case.

Then Papa was pulled off stage, disgraced and his father had taken over, taking them into the Dark Ages.

Things changed so quickly after that, half of their band was banished, and others were summoned to take their place, not by a Papa, but by a Cardinal. Tied to him via the magics that let them be tangible in the first place.

Then Primo, Secondo, and Terzo were dead, and the Emeritus line was no more.

Except, they weren’t able to summon a fire ghoul. No matter how many times they cast the circle, the sigils would not light. Without a fire ghoul, they had no lead guitarist, and without a lead guitarist, there was no project.

Water ghouls were considered the easiest to summon in turn, seeping up through the ground and filling in all the spaces that fire and earth couldn’t hope to.

He doesn’t remember being asked, doesn’t remember giving an answer, but he does remember the pain, and the way his screams echoed off the walls of the summoning chamber.

Carved out until he was a husk and filled with ash and sulfur and flame, it changed his very essence.

He woke up a fire ghoul and bound to the Cardinal. He was still Dewdrop and something else entirely at the same time. It took time for him to become tangible again, rising from the literal ashes to take form once more.

He takes to the guitar even better than the bass, and he feels alive for the first time since he came topside. It’s like there was a piece of him missing in the water, and found in the flame. He thrives on it, and the element comes to him more easily than water ever did.

Except… he’s not convinced he came back right, because the temper he had before, unusual in a water ghoul, seems to rage out of his control with the flame. Even with Aether and Mountain, he can’t rein it in. He’d lashed out at their new water ghoul, Rain, for weeks before settling into something manageable.

Rain feels more tangible than Dewdrop or Mist ever did, and maybe that’s a good thing.

[nithhaiahh]

She finds the woman from her visions after months of futile search. Weeks upon weeks spent looking for the tiniest of hints with no one but the creature inside her head keeping her company. Even now, Athakan rumbles at the edge of her consciousness, quieter than before, but still...

He would always remind her of what- of who Iradia lost to bind him to her.

Her knees are weak from sorrow and relief, but she manages to approach, one careful step after the other.

At last, she drops to her knees in front of the woman both blessed and cursed. Sharp little stones bite the skin of her palms, but she barely feels the pain. Not while the aching inside her chest threatens to tear her apart at any moment.

"Please", she croaks, head bowed in shame and defeat. How the mighty had fallen at last. "They say you can summon the dead. Please... my sister. I need to see her. I-"

Iradia's voice falters. I never got to say goodbye, she wants to say, but the words won't come out. Before she can stop herself, tears pour from her good eye over her ashen cheek.

"I'll give you anything. Anything you ask for."

The gods knew she had nothing left to give but her worthless life. Everything else was taken from her already.

It looked like it was going to rain, a light, natural mist. A weather that she loved even if others hated it for its sadness and gloominess. For Nith it was relaxing as it reminded her of the subtlety of nature on her skin and to be able to feel her breath contrast with the drizzle. Yes, she wished it would start raining soon.

The woman's words captured her immediate attention, the typical defense barrier that Nith usually possesses seemed to have been completely collapsed. Seeing someone so desperate, that cry… that voice… Oh Gods, if she recognized them. Death. A death so important that one would be able to make the world burn. She knew it very well… The banshee knelt down beside the woman and gently took her hands.

"Please… H-how…" -how was the lady sure that Nith was the one she was looking for? And how the hell did this news spread? It was a job she took somewhat sporadically. It wasn't something she hated but definitely didn't want to run the risk of being found by the wrong people.

Still, thank the Gods, this person found her.

"I understand. We can talk about the price later, I'm not unreasonable, don't worry…" -she said taking her hands to clean them from the annoying stones.

"My house is nearby… let's talk about your request there. Also, if it can be done, it will be safer to perform the ritual there."

[thewolfisawake]

Hails of ice rained down as frost crawled up the forcefields. Shards shattered from the swipe of Tannim's blade, leaving where he stood unmarred by craters of ice. Wisps of flame escaped as he exhaled. Despite his ever warmed body, the cold was more like a sting than a nip.

He felt the ground tremble below him as the shards and marred ground started to splinter. They then started to dart upwards like a reverse storm. Tannim braced against the firing debris, flipping back against a larger chunk of rock. He took the rock and pulled it from its ascent before firing it towards Makari.

Makari initially only saw one and dodged to the left. But behind it was another aimed for where he had dodged to. Forced to take the brunt, Makari staggered, his concentration wavering, causing the rising debris to plummet. The dust kicked up started to obscure his vision of the field. Probably what his opponent was going for. Two could play that game.

Using the falchion as his conduit, Makari summoned a torrent of ice and a storm of lightning as he steeled himself for a blade to lash out. If the man could make it through the hailstorm created. But suddenly was a burst of light as arcs of flame slammed against the ice and rock. The rock detonated into showers of pebbles and dust. Ice melded with the flame to create steam.

The last of the debris skittered across the floor while the heated mist permeated the air. Lightning creating occasional streaks of light. Makari amidst it kept himself ready. Which helped when a downward arc came for him. He brought his sword up, using his other hand as support against the force bearing down on him. Pushing back he gained a little ground, which he pushed into a swing to try to bring his opponent wide. Tannim backstepped while keeping his grip to keep himself defensible.

They were able to reset themselves, giving a last nod of acknowledgement before diving into their last clash. Streaks of white and green cut through the still dense air. The lightning illuminating their figures as their blades sung. Tannim danced around bolts of lightning, only sensing from the brief moments stillness before they struck. Makari swayed against the rising heat in his frame. They traded blows until Makari's sweat slick hands couldn't hold out against a strong blow from Tannim. His falchion landed blade down into the ground as the point of a sword hovered near his neck.

Unarmed and exhausted, Makari held his hands up in surrender, "I yield."

Although as soon as Makari's blade was gone, Tannim had already stopped any further intent. He barely stopped his sword from going any further and Makari's words only solidified that this was over. Sheathing his sword, Tannim came over to the worn mage.

"Doin' al'ight?" to which he received a nod, "that was mighty fine magic out there. An' your way around a sword was good too."

"I think you flatter me too much, if not for my nature, your blows would've unarmed me long ago," Makari said, "but goodness I can use water. It's so hot."

"Lemme get that. Least I can do."

Winner: Tannim

[kroashent]

Return to the Tavern - Dances With Wolves

Morgiana stepped out of the Tavern, the cold air of a Du night cutting through even her crystalsilk clothing.  She shivered, but the night air was strangely refreshing.  She turned to examine the structure.  As a boermerzh, a Bediz who could sense and manipulate glamour, she was often conscious of foyson, the quintessential magical energy that ran through everything in Alvez.  It was ever present, but the Silver Wheel was saturated with it.  She had felt subtle shimmers in the corner of her senses and been able to play with tendrils of mist curling up from her drink.  Stepping outside was like exiting a stuffy sauna and stepping out into well... a winterrule night.

Morgiana stepped close to the wall, running her fingers just above a carved wooden post.  A tendril of steam-like foyson followed her finger, revealing the structure underneath.  She frowned as she gently shook her finger, the magical illusion drifting lazily back in place.  The wood beneath was old, in much greater disrepair than the structure appeared.  There was a building, or at least part of one, underneath the spell.  It was not uncommon for taverns, inns and public houses to accentuate themselves with some cosmetic glamour, but this was not merely patching over a mispainted wall or crooked windowsill.  This was a major illusion.  If Morgiana herself could regularly draw this sort of power, she might have considered attempting the same thing at some point.  Which, in her experience, was not a good thing to be on the other end of.

The illussionist walked over to where a pool of still water from the morning's rain had formed on the lid of a barrel, the light of the moon reflected in it.  She began to dance, one she had done many times before, invoking her life on the desert sands of Ubar, of the winds blowing across the great dunes, and the moonlight reflecting in the oasis.  Swirls of luminescent energy began to form in the pool as she continued the steps of an Ubarite sword dance, tendrils of Feth Fiada wrapping around her hand.  As she danced, a shape began to form in the ripples.  Suddenly, without preamble, Morgiana plunged her arm elbow deep into the shallow puddle, pulling it out before the reality of the mundane world could correct its oversight.  In her hand she held a shimmering blade of silver, its hilt studded with precious gems.  She flicked it, sending liquid moonlight into the night air as she completed the dance, as she had done with the real sword all those years ago beneath the desert moon.

Morgiana's moonblade was a curved, single-edged sword, broadening slightly as it reached a point.  It was sharp enough to cut a falling blade of grass and leave a trail of moonlight as it sliced through the air.  She considered summoning its sister blade, but she decided convincing the cold night that it was mid-day was a step more than she was willing to undertake.  She waved her fingers, the blade dissipating into formless mist, ready to appear in her hand with a practiced and precise motion. 

-----------

Morgiana stepped back into the illusion, feeling the overwhelming amount of magic pressing against her senses.  It felt real enough, but, like the moonblade, was not quite real at the same time.  She heard noises coming from a side room and pressed herself against the wall, peering inside.  Amid the crates was a large cage, three figures gathered around it.  She recognized the girl in the Anjevin windguard uniform, and the massive Fomorian by her side.  The third, a poulpiquet, casually blinked in and out of a glamour shroud as she seemed to disappear and reappear in front of the girl.  Morgiana watched, stifling a gasp as the sorceress pulled back her hand, seeming to draw the confused girl's face with it into a lupine muzzle.  The changes quickly spread across her as the caster turned her attention to the charging fomorian.

Morgiana fluidly moved her wrists and fingers, the silver scimtar forming in her hand.  The pair of soon-to-be-garwaf dropped to the floor as the changes overwhelmed them.

"Of course" the fox-tailed woman said, turning to where Morgiana hid, "I didn't forget about you, little spy..."

Acrasia moved through a cloud of glamour, repeating her earlier teleportation trick, appearing next to Morgiana.  Her clawed hand snapped out to grab the illussionist by the neck, instead finding something wooden as her fingers closed around a coat rack, Morgiana's image vanishing.  A flash of a blade from behind caused Acrasia to turn, throwing out a blast of raw power.  It phased through the attacking illussionist.  Acrasia's eyes widened as the true strike came from a third angle.    The Poulpiquet moved with supernatural speed, the blade clipping fur from her tail as Morgiana cut across.

"Oh, you're very good." Acrasia said as she backpedaled.  "I'll need to remember that trick."

"I've got plenty more." Morgiana smirked, slashing, a band of thin moonlight slicing through the air.  Acrasia leapt back, turning to find one of the crates appearing to open like a tooth filled maw as she careened towards it.  Without stopping, she slashed, the illusory monster breaking as her claws shattered the crate.  Morgiana pressed her attack, but as she closed the distance, something slammed into her side.  The wolf in the uniform snarled as she lunged up from her position on the floor, fangs snapping.  The illusionist had not counted on her joining the fray so quickly, her attempt to parry thwarted as both smashed into a pile of crates.  The moonblade slid across the stone floor, forcing Morgiana to fend of the snapping fangs with a board.  She shot a look over as the lumbering beast rose, its horns glistening in the dim light.  Morgiana knew that she had little chance in facing the fomorian turned garwaf, and began to consider her options for a quick getaway.

She kicked out, slamming a foot into Antoinette's stomach, sending the slight wolfgirl careening away with a whimpering yelp.  She scrambled, trying to rise before either garwaf could recover. 

"I'm impressed you heard us." Acrasia said with a smile, confident in her new wolfish minions to spare her direct effort.  "Quite the sensitive ears you have.  With all these garwaf around, makes you think..."

Morgiana could feel her own ears burning, feeling the strands of hair brush over them as they began to grow.  Within seconds they were as pointed as Kathalia's, a thin film of brown fur spreading over them.

"You're a Fáisteanach" Morgiana said, gritting her teeth even as they sharpened into fangs.

Acrasia knelt down next to her, her grin wide and cruel "I prefer 'chaos weaver'.  My magic merely defines possibilities that reality is too boring to think of.  On your own, this would be quite hard to pull off.  But since you're in a room with 3 Garwaf already... it would be almost stranger if you weren't in a fangpack..."

Morgiana flipped her wrist, the moonblade vanishing from the floor and reappearing in her clawed hand.  Despite her bad positioning, she swung at Acrasia.  The blade stopped, centimeters from the poulpiquet's neck.  Morgiana stared in shock as her the fur spread up her hand, pads throwing off the delicate balance of her sword dance.  The blade vanished.

"My Fangpack." Acrasia added as the changes overwhelmed the illussionist, paws ripping through her silk shoes as a tail shot out behind her. "I could use a talented glamour-weaver for the main event.  You'll do nicely, little wolf."

"Forgetting something?" Came a snarl from inside the cage

"Oh, I'm sure that with these three around, someone probably unlocked the door, intentionally or otherwise." Acrasia made a bored flick of her fingers, sending a stream of power through the spell.  

"Much better."  The lock fell away and the prisoner stepped out, her jet black fur shimmering in the light.  Antoinette and Azelma fell into place at her side as Morgiana, visibly struggling, finished her transformation.

"Watch out for this one." Acrasia warned "She's Boermerzh and has a small amount of casting ability.  They're suggestible up to a point, but the control is hardly absolute."

The prisoner snarled, her claws scraping large gashes in the crates "You really think you can explain Garwaf to me, witch?"

"A reminder." Acrasia said as Morgiana began to rise "before the show."

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

Morgiana stepped out onto her stage.  The last few moments had been something of a blur, but as she heard the murmur of the crowd in the main room, her fur bristled with excitement at the challenge before her.  It was odd, she thought, to try and envision herself as a Bediz, cloaking herself in glamour until her grand reveal.  It seemed rather silly to her, but she had a strange notion that it was what the show would demand.  The venue, a Bediz tavern, was flooded with magical foyson, allowing her to draw vast amounts of energy to weave her spell.  She didn't know quite why, but she knew what she had to do.

The room was full of patrons, some that Morgiana recognized, some that she did not.  She began to sway, her tail keeping a subtle rythym as she moved through the room, weaving glamour to maintain a sense of utter normalcy, shielding herself and Acrasia from preying eyes.  She moved towards the table, beginning a delicate dance directed at the pair seated there.  The chain reaction that Acrasia had started made some of it easy.  She had done the hard part, targetting the magically resiliant Gwae with subtle castings.  Thin patches of light grey fur had already begun to spread across her pale skin

It didn't take much from Morgiana to push the Eladan further down the path, her sensual dance, fully watched, but not consciously seen sent feelings of desire and belonging.  As Morgiana swayed, Gwae's changes accellerated, her attentions directly focused across the table.  As her hips, tail and core swayed, her hands moved in a different fashion, pulling a veil around Kathalia to obfuscate the casting.  She could tell the sellsword was uneasy, her eyes darting, unbidden, to the ripples caused by the illussion.  When she was satisfied, she moved along.

"Oh, a traveling bard!" Acrasia clapped her hands together with glee.  "Tell me, do you know 'Ballad of the Blood Moon?"

Marie began to play and Morgiana could see the strings of the lute sending tangible vibrations through the room.  She had always suspected that Marie had some latent ability with magic, and she took her place, wrapping and pushing glamour in time with the music. 

Morgiana took her place as Acrasia's spell worked its way through the room.  Whenever someone started to notice something, she pulled on the threads of glamour filling the space, redirecting their attentions where she desired.  It annoyed her that she was forbidden from playing with the bard that Acrasia had begun to entrance, so she amused herself by brushing against a young noblewoman seated near the bar, a noticable quiver traveling across the woman's body as Morgiana moved a claw across her back. 

With each verse of Marie's spell-song, the crowd grew more restless, the changes among some triggered the Acrasia's chaos magic increasing.  Morgiana's own excitement grew as she yearned to take center stage, to unleash her true power, her instinct to hunt pressing hard on the edges of her mind as she noted the crowd not affected by the changes.  The true audience, she mused, fur bristling as she prepared.  In her excitement, the glamour slipped, Kathalia standing up as she caught a glimpse of Acrasia.  It didn't matter though.  Before she could act, Gwae was on her, providing more distraction than Morgiana's subtle castings could dream of. Even Marie herself was changing now, the spell rebounding on its unknowing caster. 

"Howl, Howl, the Black Winds Blow Howl, Howl the Blood Moon's Glow"

Morgiana could no longer contain the wolf,  she leapt on the table, letting out a howl as the illussion shattered.  The noblewoman joined the howl as the glamour was flung away and chaos truly descended on the tavern.  The pack was unleashed.

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

Val's Notes: I drew this set of pictures as a "proof of concept" for a sequel to "Kroashent: Moonlit Tavern", a 2016 series and really the first "real" attempt at making Kroashent more than concept art.  A lot has changed with the settings and characters since then, with the addition of a whole cast, a formal world and and ongoing adjustment to the underlying story.  I wanted to make a spiritual successor to that series, and at the same time, make a reall attempt at creating scenes, rather than just pinups.

I actually drew a floorplan sketch of the Silver Wheel, so that everything felt like it was in the same space (except for the Antoinette/Azelma one), with things and characters in for fore, middle and background.  It was a real challenge, but I think it worked out. 

Special cameo from Zella Pontika, of the Spellshade Saga in this picture, in the yellow dress.  Zella belongs to https://www.furaffinity.net/user/e5111/, and you should go read her adventures!

Sadly (for now), this is all I drew for the series and all that is written for it.  This was largely a proof of concept while I worked on a more complex story, Kroashent: Bal des Loups.  The story is a different one from this chain of events, but you will see all the present characters in it and interacting.  If you liked these snippets, please give the full story a chance! 

I'd love to hear what you think about this series, and the stories attached.  Its been a while since I've had the will to attempt anything like it, so comments are welcome and appreciated.

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

Others in this set:

Gwae

Kathalia and Gwae

Kathalia

Marie

Azelma and Antoinette

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

If you would like to support my art help the world of Kroashent come to life, as well as receive other rewards like sneak-peaks, exclusive versions and sketches, please visit my Patreon page, with a wide array of tiers for all budgets: www.patreon.com/Kroashent Check out the full story of Kroashent: Bal des Loups, on Archive of Our Own or in this gallery Want to chat Kroashent or Val's art in general? Drop in on Kroashent on Discord Learn more about the world of Kroashent on our official Wiki

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 46: Destination

Chapter 46: Destination

Note: Hey, everyone! I hope you are doing well and that you enjoy this chapter! Sorry, I'm a little late. I started baking cinnamon rolls today and just lost track of time. The cinnamon rolls were great, though!

(-~-)

The museum was impressive, filled with bright overhead light from the skylights that made up the center of each enfilade compartment. Tall, pointed gothic-style arches separated the space but kept it open and airy, the lighting bright enough to enjoy the artwork but dim enough to not blind anyone who was trying to enjoy the pieces on display. All and all, a splendid showcase of the talents of local artists, their diverse styles and color choices popping beautifully against the light gray walls and black carpet floors. This place was a goldmine of regional charm and ambition, and it was adored for that.

There were finishing up at the museum, viewing the last few pieces on display before heading to another location in town. It was around 10 am now, the city taking on a different air under different lighting. There was a cool mist in the air, a byproduct of the large lake that dwarfed the city. Their shared decision to wear coats had been a wise one, not that either of them would have frozen to death without them.

Making his way back over towards the door where Sirrus sat idly flipping through a pamphlet, the young summoner waived a single time in his direction, nodding in thanks as the man with the mostly white hair regarded him wordlessly but in a friendly manner nonetheless. They’d come here by his recommendation, and the establishment had not disappointed. It was smaller than many places he’d had the privilege of entering over the years, but the quality was spectacular. He had not been let down by any measure.

“You were correct, this establishment has been very enjoyable,” V said as his companion stood up, setting his reading materials aside. He’d finished browsing the available selection about ten minutes prior and had opted to save his energy by taking a short break. An advisable idea considering everything they’d been through recently. Ad they still had a lot of walking ahead of them today. “Thank you for recommending it.”

“The pleasure is mine. I’ve been looking for an excuse to come back here for a while now, but coming alone isn’t as enjoyable as bringing along someone else for company.” Sirrus said as they turned towards the door, the docent opening it for them as they approached and crossed its threshold. They nodded in quiet approval, thanking the individual in question for their politeness. It was a slow day so they probably had some free time on their hands at the moment, but regardless, they had still done them a favor and they were appreciative of that. 

Heading down the road and away from the building past a bazaar that they’d checked out for a little while on the way there, they passed through a local public garden. It mostly consisted of bushes now, with only a few seasonal flowers able to blossom in the sparse seasonal light, but some of those bushes came in stunning shades of yellow, purple, and red. The gravel path that led through the area crunched under their feet as they followed the path through to the next block.

“A while back they started adding these little green spaces to the city. They said they wanted to further reclaim nature. I enjoy them. And the momentary quiet they bring.” Sirrus said as they continued forward, a look of calm reflection on his face. The air smelled nice here, like a forest after rain. A happy side effect of the misty morning air.

“Urban areas can always do with more plant life. Too many of them have lost that in pursuit of more office space and luxury apartment space that the majority of the populace cannot afford.” V said with a very slight shake of his head as he scoffed quietly. The sheer number of cities that he’d been to that were just grey monoliths, completely devoid of nature broke something in him. And what little landscaping there was almost always resided in high-end shopping areas that no one but a select few visited outside of window shopping. It was one of the reasons he liked places like this city and the area his family resided in. Even places like Fortuna. Why he could not live in most urban areas he’d visited. He would miss the established trees and flower bushes. The sound of birds in the morning and the sight of squirrels dashing up trees. The sleepy little rivers that brought with them the soft sound of trickling water. He needed something to look at besides the next building over. Something to hear besides traffic. Something to breathe in besides smog from the industrial sector. He didn’t want to live in a suburb or a city. A place like this was the perfect middle ground, at least for him. Easy to traverse and with plenty of reason to want to. He didn’t hate urbanization by any means, but it just wasn’t for him. It just wasn’t his style.

Sirrus nodded, agreeing with his friend’s sentiment. He enjoyed the little pockets of greenery that had been reintroduced in the town. The area was already very lush, probably thanks in part to its historic roots. You couldn’t plant trees this old in a modern city. Sadly, it just didn’t work the majority of the time. They couldn’t grow this tall anymore. There just wasn’t any room. Nature had to come first, and then the buildings.

Enjoying the silence for a handful of minutes as they approached the open wrought iron gate that led back to the road, the two remained quiet, savoring the cool air and their shared togetherness. At least until V suddenly remembered something he’d seen earlier that day that he’d meant to bring up and subsequently completely forgotten about until just then. He didn’t want to break the silence that they’d both been enjoying, but he also didn’t want to waste their remaining daylight hours. “I saw a trolly pass by just as we went into the museum. Where does that go?”

“The blue one with the green and white diagonal stripes?” Sirrus asked, vaguely recalling the routes that passed through the area. He took them from time to time, but considering that he was capable of moving faster than the average person, and even some vehicles given the proper circumstances, he didn’t often need to.

V nodded after a moment of consideration. That was indeed the one he’d seen before. He’d only really noticed it because of the stripes, if he was being honest. Things with patterns simply stood out more to him than solid colors, unless those colors were very bright.

“Yes, that would be the one I had in mind.” He said with a nod as he ducked under a slightly low pine tree branch, his hair getting dusted with morning dew in the process. They had just about reached the exit now, so they would be able to see their surroundings better momentarily.

The man with the mostly red hair seemed to think for a moment as he passed under the gateway, trying to recall the line that Trolly belonged to. And then he remembered and a self-satisfied little smile sunk onto his face. Oh yes, how had he forgotten? If he knew anything about his friend, and he liked to think that he did, then this was going to be fun.

“Oh, nowhere special. Just down to goes down to the marina. To the aquarium.”

V stopped dead in his tracks, the combination of the sound of one of his feet hitting the pavement while the other crunched on the gravel behind them being enough in of itself to cause Sirrus to notice that V had stopped at the transition point between the garden’s wrought iron archway gate and the pavement. That, and the distinct metal ping of his cane hitting the concrete. He’s switched to using it slightly more as they’d passed through the uneven surface of the garden path. He didn’t even need to turn around to know that his words had the exact effect that he was hoping they would. He could practically feel V staring at his back right now, his mouth figuratively agape and his eyes twinkling with childlike excitement. And he loved that. And the second he turned around, he was pleased to find out that he was correct. He was unquestionably correct. And V was making no effort to hide it.

“Did you just say… There is an aquarium in this city?” The barely contained excitement that he radiated at the very thought of that was evident, even if his face didn’t fully betray it. There was just something in his eyes and his tone of voice, a little sparkle that hadn’t been there moments ago. He was oozing anticipation like he’d just been submerged in radium. He knew that he’d heard Sirrus correctly, but he still wanted to be correct.

Giving off a small chuckle, Sirrus reached up and gently patted V’s shoulder, his fined following his hand to his shoulder but his facial expression not changing to any noticeable degree. He wasn’t uncomfortable with the gesture in the slightest, and that only served to make Sirrus almost as quietly excited as V was.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did say that.” He leaned in, making direct eye contact with his friend as he allowed his sneaky little smirk to remain on full display. Both the tone of his voice and the volume he spoke in lowered slightly as he tried not to laugh at himself for how ridiculous he was being. “Did you, by any chance… perhaps wish to venture to the aquarium in question. They should be open by now.”

Much to Sirrus’s surprise, he was the first of the two of them to crack, but only a millisecond before V did, the both of them laughing at one another’s respective reactions before V became visibly embarrassed by the sound of his own laughter, something that only made him laugh harder, his entire face turning bright red. He placed his face in both of his hands as his eyes began to water, nearly dropping his cane as he tucked it under his arm for the time being. Sirrus struggled to catch his own breath from a potent combination of all the air evacuating his lungs as he laughed at V’s reaction to his own embarrassment as well as at himself for being so embarrassing in the first place. They were trapped in a cycle of laughing at one another’s collective shame, and neither of them could complain. Mostly because they couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like a lifetime to his thoroughly overworked larynx and lungs, V finally managed to stop laughing just enough to speak as he wiped the last of the tears from his eyes. He put a hand upon Sirrus’s shoulder, half to try and shake him out of his stupified stupor and half to keep his own balance as his abdomen cramped slightly from laughing too much. It had been a good while since he’d done that. It felt good, even if they probably looked like a set of prize fools to anyone who might be passing by, standing here on the corner laughing at virtually nothing. But for once he didn’t care about that, even if he knew that was the case. They were just two friends having a good laugh, and they'd more than earned that. “I earnestly believe that if we do not stop laughing we shall both simply perish here and now upon this street corner.”

“Honestly, I think your right,” Sirrus said as he came to a breathless, wheezy stop, clearing his slightly sore throat as he took in several deep breaths and slowly managed to compose himself. That had been so sudden, and yet, he couldn’t complain. He’d forgotten that he could laugh that hard, and seeing V in such a state was always a happy occasion. It couldn’t be anything but that, in truth. V simply didn’t have it in him to laugh like that as a result of misfortune or anguish. He wondered randomly at that moment if V was the kind of person who laughed and then devolved into tears when in anguish. Something told him that might be the case if he did that while laughing… he hoped to never see that. And if he had to, he hoped that he could bring him some measure of solace and that he could serve as the relief, not the cause of his heartbreak.

Gesturing towards the nearest corner, Sirrus pretended to sho V towards their next destination. The trolly stop was only a few yards away. It had several stops, and aside from the one across the street from the museum they had just left, this was their closest option. He would offer to walk to the aquarium with V, but he thought it best to preserve their energy. They had plenty of time left, and he wanted to make the most of every second. He wanted every memory to be meaningful, be it small or large. Tomorrow had the potential to be a very long and difficult day. They both needed this break more than he’d realized. He knew that V did, but the more time they spent together the more he realized that he did, too. 

“Alright, after you, then. The stop is over here. The trolly should be along any moment now. It should be a short wait.” Sirrus said as he stepped towards the corner, waiting for V to follow behind him. If they were going to hit either of them with a car, it was going to be him. His bones weren’t made of paper mache broken glass like his companions were, after all. People around here didn’t typically speed, but the two of them did have uncharacteristically dreadful luck, so it was best to be cautious, especially since this corner had a paved crosswalk but no indicator lights.

“Followed by a long ride,” V said as he started in that direction, finding himself using his cane a bit more than he might have intended. But for the moment, he needed it, and that was something that he’d long since accepted and felt no shame in. He got the occasional look from others when they saw him, probably wondering why someone so young had one, but he didn’t mind being stared at as much as he used to. The right people understood. That was all that mattered to him now. He wasn’t alone anymore. He wasn’t afraid. “I’m going to need some time to fully catch my breath.”

(-~-)

Is it hot where you all live yet, too? It hit 90F today (Wednesday 5/31) and I’m not ready. Like, no. I don’t want to be hot smh. Anyway, I hope you liked it! I’m hyped to see V experience the aquarium. He’s having fun and so am I, and I hope you are, too! Also, what do you think V and Sirrus’s favorite marine animals are? I have my thoughts but I’d love to know what you think, too! Take care out there and thank you for all your support this year. Truly. I know the schedule is a mess smh. Let me know what you think in the comments if you’d like, and I’ll see you all next Friday!

[anisette-blackwirth]

SAGAU: Meeting Kazuha

summary: You started playing after Kazuha's release and have been waiting almost a year for his rerun (based on a true story lmao)

spoiler warning: inazuma archon quest spoilers

content warning: not exactly a cult AU but close enough. Chosen Traveler is Aether.

notes: I intend to eventually do one of these introspectives for each of my main team (and other characters, as applicable), but... Kazuha's banner is coming out in a few hours, so I had to write this quickly before summoning.

May all Kazuha wanters become Kazuha havers!

“You two give off not only the essence of wind and earth, but also of… yes… the stars…” 

The first time Kazuha felt your presence was when he met the Traveler and Paimon. He assumed the little flying child was somehow projecting her emotions to others. He expected Captain Beidou would be the one to ask. Beidou was outspoken and blunt, but that served her well as the captain of her crew. While they hadn't known each other for very long, Kazuha could already tell when she was about to say something, and refrained from making his own comments as he waited for her to speak up.

The feeling that she was ‘about to say something’ persisted up until the Traveler and Paimon left to prepare for the Crux Clash, when she finally let it out in a rush. 

"Did you feel that? That weird sorta energy around those two."

"I did. It seemed to ebb and flow with the little flying one's emotions."

"You know, I tried to ask about it? But I couldn't say the words."

"Truly?" Kazuha hummed in thought. "And yet we are having no trouble discussing it now."

"Yeah. I don't like this. Why couldn't I say anything? Do you think there’s some weird magic around them? This could be bad," Beidou said. "I'm gonna ask the crew if they felt anything."

"It certainly could be," Kazuha agreed mildly as Beidou descended to the lower deck, choosing not to voice his own suspicions just yet. But when he pulled the Traveler aside to have a word with him before the final match, he found quite quickly that he disagreed with Beidou. 

The more he spoke with the Traveler and Paimon, the more Kazuha felt that the presence was neither of theirs. It reacted pleasantly and kindly to his words. 

"...And, not to mention your incredibly complex scent. Like that of some mysterious being," Kazuha said. He tried to elaborate - Like the mist that rises off hot pavement in the first flash of summer rains - but couldn't. He frowned, struggling with his own words internally, before he gave up and continued on. The words felt right, but he hadn’t been able to voice them. Just like Beidou. 

Later that evening, something about the aura encouraged him to share his story - or maybe it was just the delayed result of Beidou pushing him to talk about his pain with others. As he spoke of Tomo's fate, keeping his voice deliberately light… he became certain that the presence was a third, separate entity. Paimon was saddened and the Traveler's expression displayed grief - but he seemed unsurprised, as if loss were an old, familiar friend and he had known what was coming the moment Kazuha began speaking.  

The presence he felt hovering around them was both sad and angry. Angry on his behalf, much like Beidou had been when she took him onboard. He could feel its desire to wrap around and protect him… but it didn't. And as he felt it leave sadly with the Traveler that evening… he wondered if maybe it couldn't. 

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

The Traveler, as it turned out, was not unaware of the presence hovering around him and his friend, because he re-introduced himself as Aether during the voyage to Inazuma. 

"I saw you both struggling to say something earlier. I'm sorry I couldn't explain things then. I have someone guiding me who we can't talk about. But they've been helping me for months now - well, all of us," Aether said, gesturing at the companions he'd brought on-board.

"Uh… huh." Beidou was unimpressed. And rightly so, since she had been intending to smuggle one person across and ended up with four. "You know Thoma isn't expecting these extra people, right?" she asked. 

"It'll be fine. I think? Whoever's helping us out seems to be able to hide extra people when they need to,” Aether said.

"So those emotions we felt when you were around were theirs? How does that work?" Beidou asks. Paimon made a very unimpressed looking shrug to mirror Aether’s.

"We're not sure," Aether said. "They only seem to be able to directly interact with certain vision users, but apparently everyone can feel them around. It's just, people with visions can feel them the clearest." 

"You introduced yourself as [username], and yet you now say your name is Aether. Is that their name?" Kazuha asks. 

"As far as we can tell," Aether says. 

As they continued explaining the situation, with Paimon remaining suspiciously silent, Kazuha was glad to get the chance to talk to Aether on his own. But he also found that he missed that summer-scented mist, just a little.

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

Kazuha felt the presence watching over him a few more times in Inazuma after that, always in association with Aether. He felt its - their - utter joy at seeing him again when the Crux crew joined the battle at Nazuchi Beach, their enthusiasm almost matching Gorou's. Aether lingered to speak with him and Beidou after the skirmish, grinning sheepishly as the conversation stretched on. 

He felt them most strongly during the assault on Tenshukaku, their fear turning to such a fierce, victorious pride as he saves Aether that it left him shaking just as much as the Shogun's return strike did. Then the presence disappeared into the void with Aether, and did not come back out. 

He felt them briefly as he visited Tomo's grave after all was said and done, and found he was grateful to know they were still alive. Having someone to witness his prayers at his friend's resting place - even an unknown, mysterious, otherworldly aura - helped ease his heart. 

-----------

Kazuha did not feel them again until he decided on a whim to answer a commission in Liyue,  three months later. They were subtly in the background as he accepted Aether's invitation to team up, and he was disappointed when he thought that would be all he'd feel of them this time. But Aether gave him a thumbs up and a wink and warned him to brace himself. 

As soon as the party entered the domain, Kazuha felt their presence sweep over him. It was so much stronger than ever before that he had to stop and take a moment to breathe, though both the presence and his three companions seemed content to wait for him.

He felt the presence - felt you examining him joyfully. He got the sense that you were peering at him from every angle, and then your attention turned inward to the artifacts he'd chosen to take with him for this fight. You express vague interest and approval - had he chosen well? They were the best he had for that set - and then you were guiding the four of them forward to experience combat at your hands. 

It was different from normal combat. Alien. Kazuha found that your presence came and went in flashes, directing him to use certain skills and then flitting away to one of the others. He dodged strikes he couldn't see or hear properly through the echoing fog of the domain, kept safe from blows that might have felled him by a third eye from above. But he was also hit by other attacks he could clearly see approaching in slow motion, also found himself unwilling to use Chihayaburu when he normally would.

He sensed your frustration and shame whenever this happened, and he wondered whether you were learning this as you went, too. 

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

Now, seven months later, he’s met you personally, face-fo-face. Your guidance of him as a “trial character” through two more events improved greatly since your first fumbling attempts to understand his “playstyle”, and he feels - perhaps arrogantly - that the two of you work well together. You had stuttered out something similar when you first asked for his consent to be “summoned” and used as your vessel all those months ago, and Kazuha smiles now as he recalls it.

Beidou joins him at the railing as he watches the approaching islands of the Golden Apple Archipelago and slings an arm around his shoulders companionably. 

“Ya ready, kid?” she asks. “Last chance to back out. I’m sure [Y/N] wouldn’t mind.” 

Beidou has been one of your vessels for a long time as well, and though she’s not the most often chosen, Kazuha has heard nothing but good from her about the experience. So he takes her words as teasing. 

“I find I must disagree. [Y/N] has been quite enthusiastic about my ‘return’ these past weeks,” Kazuha says with a smile. He knows from Beidou that you’ve had the necessary materials to empower him saved for quite some time, and while you apparently aren’t yet happy with the Viridescent Venerer’s artifact set you plan to gift to him, Kazuha is certain it will be worlds better than what he was able to collect on his own. 

“I haven’t the heart to disappoint. Besides, I have no other obligations. I merely wish to wander and experience the world. I can think of no better way to spend my time than to explore this world alongside someone who so clearly cares for me.” 

Beidou ruffles his hair and he ducks out of her hold. “Sap. Alright, well, we’re almost there! Fix your hair before you meet [Y/N]. Can’t have you looking like you just rolled outta bed!”

Kazuha grumbles and redoes his ponytail, which Beidou was the one to ruin in the first place - but finds that he can’t maintain even a fake frown for long. He’s excited to feel your presence in his life permanently. And as he prepares to step ashore and surprise you before you “wish” for him, he hopes you are too. 

[e-m-christina]

The Lady Of The Rings

CHAPTER ONE

SUMMARY: Y/n, a ranger from the North is called upon by Gandalf to join the Fellowship. Just as Y/n settles into the group and begins to form feelings for Legolas Greenleaf, things take a nasty turn.

PAIRING: LEGOLAS x READER

MASTERLIST

---

One Week Ago:

The hills rolled like a casually laid eiderdown quilt, rising and falling in soft waves. If the earth had a pulse it rose through the mountains, creating their bold silhouette against the early morning sky.

The salty sea air whipped Y/n's plaid hair backwards as she stared in awe at the beautiful views. Just under a huge, lush green mountain, lay what looked like a village, bustling with hundreds of people. It reminded her of her own home country - rolling mountains and glimmering greenery - though most of the time it was buried under a foot of snow.

Gandalf The Grey, an old friend of hers, had summoned her to the East in a 'matter of exceptional urgency.' Though he failed to mention what that matter of urgency was and instead said that he would explain it all when she landed on the docks of Rhün.

"In the name of Odin, will you wake up and get ready to dock!" Y/n yelled, kicking her crew awake. She grabbed an oar and tossed it to one of the sleeping men. By the Gods, those men were useless.

Awaiting on the closest dock, Y/n could make out the figure of a tall grey man wearing a pointy hat. It was Gandalf. A rare smile formed on Y/n's face. Whatever Gandalf had in store was surely going to be quite the adventure - that much she knew.

Present Day

Mist lay thick on the ground, concealing the puddles of mud that splashed up Y/n's legs as she trudged down the forest path. She was travelling to the town of Bree - on the instruction of Gandalf. She was supposed to be on the lookout for Hobbits. A small and very hungry race of people but the most welcoming folk you will come across in those parts of the world.

The town drew closer and closer until the sound of village-like chatter became unmistakable. Y/n came to a stop in front of a large wooden gate and looked over her shoulder with a shiver. Something was out there, lurking in the darkness of the forest.

Ever since she arrived at the shores of this land, she could feel the darkness - it was a cold, heavy pit in her stomach. Gandalf had informed her of what hunted the Hobbits she was supposed to protect - the nine Nazgul of Mordor.

"Who's there! What do you want?" A voice yelled over the thundering rain. A small window on the gate slid open, revealing the face of a drenched and wind-worn old man.

"My identity is my own business, but I wish to stay at the Inn of The Prancing Pony," Y/n said, glancing back at the woodland, doubting whether he had actually heard her over the torrential downpour of rain.

"No need to be hasty, young lady. It's my business to ask questions after nightfall." The old man said, creaking the gate open for entry.

***

Y/n walked up a gentle slope, passing a few detached houses and drew up outside the inn. Even from the outside, the inn looked like a welcoming and warm establishment. The door was open and light streamed out of it. Above the arch was a lamp, and beneath it swung a large signboard: a fat white pony reared up on its hind legs. Over the door was painted in white letters: The Prancing Pony owned by Barliman Butterbur. Many of the lower window curtains were swept shut, yet an orange glow seemed to be emitted from them.

Y/n hesitated on the thresh-hold. Would she be able to find the Hobbits in a packed pub like this? What would happen if she couldn't? Her mind wandered to Gandalf again. He said he wouldn't be able to make it to the inn in time, but he seemed worried. Y/n just wished he had told her where he was going.

Someone singing a merry song broke through her thoughts and instantly many more cheerful voices joined loudly in the chorus.

"There is an inn, a merry old inn, beneath an old grey hill. And there brew a beer so brown, that the Man of the Moon himself came down one night to drink his fill!"

Y/n went forward, ducking under the arch and nearly bumped into a short fat man with a bald head and a red face. He had a white apron on and was carrying a tray laden with full mugs.

"Good evening, madam." He said, motioning for Y/n to follow him through the busy pub to a table in the corner of the room. "What may you be wanting?"

"Single bed and mead if you have it," Y/n said, shedding her wolf-skin coat and peeling off her cloak from underneath. She threw the soggy garments on the ground next to the crackling fire and crashed onto the cushioned chair, propping her feet on the table.

"I'm sure I can manage to find a room, though we do not have any, er... mead." The man said, looking rather taken aback by Y/n's lack of table manners. Y/n raised an eyebrow.

"Fine. I will have whatever they are having." Y/n prodded a finger towards the table next to hers.

"Alright, I'll just write that down. We get a lot of foreign folks, but I haven't heard your accent before. You'll forgive me for asking where you are from?" The man asked, craning to get a look at the order of food from the next table.

"A ranger and warrior from the North," Y/n said, but the waiter didn't seem satisfied.

"A ranger and warrior? Which part?"

"Kattegat, in Norway," Y/n muttered, growing tired of the questioning. The waiter let out a mix between a gasp and a squeak.Y/n was sure she could hear him mutter 'heathen' under his breath.

"O-oh right. I will get that prepared. What name should I put you down as?" The waiter asked, backing away from the table. Before Y/n could answer, her attention was drawn to the door that swung open, revealing four very small and very drenched looking figures.

***

As Frodo gulped his half-pint beer, he became aware of a strange-looking weather-beaten lady, sitting in the shadows near the wall.

She was listening in on their conversation. She had a tankard in front of her and was smoking a long-stemmed pipe that had runes carved onto it. Her legs stretched out in front of her, showing high boots of supple leather that fitted her well, but had seen much wear and were caked in mud. As soon as Frodo and the other Hobbits had arrived, she had pulled a wolf-skin cloak over her, overshadowing her face; but the gleam of her eyes could be seen as she watched the four Hobbits.

"Who is that?" Frodo asked when he got a chance to whisper to Mr Butterbur, the owner and main server of the inn.

"Her?" The landlord whispered, cocking an eye without turning his head. "I served her just before you came in. She comes from Norway, you know the country where those heathen Vikings come from?" Butterbur said and Frodo almost dropped his mug.

Why would someone from there be watching him? He shivered - what if she was a servant of Sauron? Slight panic set in and Frodo shot a look at Sam.

"Oi, did this Viking lady give a name, sir?" Sam asked, looking at Mr Butterbur.

"Not a real one, no. Only a nickname."

***

Y/n noticed the dark-haired Hobbit, who she guessed was the one named Frodo, the bearer of the ring ask the landlord something.

They both looked her way before going back into conversing with one another. She should introduce herself, she thought. Gandalf wanted her to look after them and that is exactly what she would do. Before she got the chance to stand up, one of the blond Hobbits by the bar started talking rather loudly.

"Aye, Frodo Baggins, he's over there. My cousin twice removed on his mother's side that is-'' The Hobbit was cut off by Frodo, who had launched himself from his seat and tackled the Hobbit. Unfortunately, Frodo slipped and landed on his back with a thud.

And for a split second, Y/n saw a streak of gold glimmer in the air - that was it! That was the one ring. Y/n's jaw dropped. As soon as the ring slid back onto Frodo's finger, he vanished. Y/n elbowed her way through the ruckus of the crowd - whom had hardly noticed the disappearance of Frodo. But Y/n kept watching. Within seconds, Frodo reappeared, laying on the ground, pale as a ghost. This was Y/n's chance. She slipped forward, unseen by anyone else and grabbed the Hobbit by his shoulder.

"You draw too much attention to yourself, Mr Bagins." Y/n dragged him up the nearest flight of stairs and shoved the protesting Frodo into one of the spare rooms.

"What do you want?" Frodo asked, scrambling to his feet as Y/n drew the curtains shut.

"A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry," Y/n whispered, checking under the bed.

"I carry nothing." Frodo backed up to the door, clutching his chest. Y/n's eyes followed his movements carefully. So, he keeps the ring round his neck?

"Indeed," Y/n said. "I can avoid being seen if I wish." She said, putting out the candles with a damp thumb. "But to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift." Y/n spun around and shoved down her hood, revealing her face for the first time to the Hobbit.

"Who are you?" Frodo asked. Y/n was surprised at how calm he was - no, she was annoyed about how calm he was.

"Do you know what hunts you?" Y/n asked, dodging Frodo's question.

"No..."

"Are you frightened?"

"Y-yes?"

"Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you-" Y/n was cut off by a creaking at the door. At once she spun around, unsheathing her axe from her belt.

"Back off, or I'll have you on shanks!" A chunky Hobbit burst through the door, bearing his fists. Behind him followed two more, clutching a candle-bra and a decrepit stool. It was a comical sight, to say the least. Y/n couldn't help but feel taken aback by the bravery of the Halflings, no matter how pathetic they looked.

"You have a stout heart, little Hobbit. But that will not save you." Y/n said, sliding her axe back into the belt, before turning back to Frodo,

"We can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo. The Nine are coming. I could feel their presence before I even stepped foot in this town."

"How are we meant to trust you?" Frodo asked as the three other Hobbits flocked to his sides.

"Gandalf sent me. I know that isn't much proof for you trust me. But if you want to survive the night, you need to follow my instructions." Y/n paused momentarily, watching their faces process her words before continuing. "The Nine will surely attack tonight, so I have made a plan - that is if you are willing to listen?" Y/n said. She made it sound like a proposal, but there was no way in Valhalla that she would let them leave without her by their side.

She swore an oath to Gandalf that she would keep them safe, and if a Viking makes a promise, you can be sure they will carry it out - even if it kills them.

"I am willing to listen, but what should we call you?" Frodo asked, ignoring the stouter blond Hobbits protests by muttering and shaking his head.

"You can call me Strider."

---

Posted: 15th Oct 2021

I hope you enjoyed it, part 2 is coming soon! Requests are open!