#the-littlest-voidsent

[lizzy-calaxio]

I wrote a little thing! also starring @the-littlest-kojin

Dark Visions:

“Hey, can you go clear out some voidsent in this cave? They keep attacking the nearby village.”

Lizzy furrows her brow, “That doesn’t sound too hard, sure?”

She looks at Shio who just shrugs.

Lizzy adjusts her nouliths, making sure they’re functioning properly. Omi would kill her if she got injured because she wasn’t doing proper maintenance. If she died due to it, she does not doubt he would come into the aetherial sea to kill her again.

The pair set out to the cave to clear out the voidsent. A pretty standard mission.

Lizzy asks Shio, “What kind of voidsent do you think are here? Surely they gotta be special if normal adventurers can’t handle it.”

Shio shrugs again, “Dunno, can’t imagine it’ll take long though.”

--

As the two enter the cave it seems normal enough, couple imps here, couple ghosts there. The cave was bigger than anticipated, but no issues arise.

Until Lizzy encounters the visage of her adoptive parents standing in front of her.

Lizzy freezes as they begin to talk, voices tainted with a ghastly echoing.

Amandine starts signing, “Oh look. It’s her.”

The disgust in the tone of her signing sends pangs of guilt through Lizzy.

Shio is saying something, but Lizzy is unable to hear.

Simon says, “Ah yes, the daughter we didn’t want, but took anyway. How useless you became.”

Lizzy tries to shake her head free of the ghosts.

She sees Shio stop talking, but start signing. Slowly.

“They. Aren’t. Real.”

They aren’t. But the feelings they dredge up hurt more than anything she’s felt before. Tears begin streaming down Lizzy’s face.

She tries to use her calming aura on herself, to no avail.

Shio steps in front of her, between her and her parents.

She signs, “We saw your parents. In the aetherial sea, remember? At the aitiascope.” Lizzy notices visible aether swelling around Shio, Shio continues to sign, “They were proud of you. They love you. Remember that.”

The punctuating signs cut the air like daggers.

Lizzy tries to focus again.

Simon’s voice hits her horns again, “Do you really believe that?”

Lizzy’s eyes begin to drift behind Shio again, before Shio signs, “No, look at me. Your parents are not here. We are in a room by ourselves and voidsent.”

Lizzy closes her eyes, tunes out all sound. Concentrate.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

A vicious mocking laugh echos against the cave walls.

“Who are you to try and calm your compatriot?”

Lizzy doesn’t recognize the voice. She sees Shio glance behind Lizzy’s left shoulder, but then refocus back on Lizzy.

“You?! Give me a break. You couldn’t save Noraxia. It’s your fault they even died! Pathetic. Warrior of Light? You’re not even a real Kojin. You’re a fake. An imposter. Pretending. You couldn’t save anyone. You cause death. You’re nothing. I’m better than you. I wouldn’t have let Genbu get injured. I thought he was your Idol? Your God. You have no strength. It’s all borrowed from me.”

Lizzy feels out the aether around her. She tunes herself into her surroundings. Pushing out all the useless noise and visual data.

Focus.

Concentrate.

Lizzy’s nouliths fly out, and send beams shooting through the fake visions taunting the pair.

The illusion fades, and the cave walls reveal them standing in a ritualistic room. An Altar stands before them.

A voidsent floats, bored, above the altar.

Lizzy sends her nouliths out, but an Axe finds its way into the voidsents face first.

The voidsent cries out, “DID YOU THROW YOUR FUCKING AXE?!”

Lizzy glances at an axeless Shio.

The voidsent sends a fireball at Shio, only to get blocked by Lizzy’s shield, allowing Shio to charge at the voidsent.

She leaps into the air, and lands on her axe handle.

Lizzy nouliths singe the voidesents flesh, distracting it enough for Shio to pull her axe out of the voidsents head.

It cries out again, sending fireballs scattering across the entire room. Lizzy pulls Shio close to her, and surrounds the pair with a stronger shield as the barrage of fireballs hit it.

Shio charges again, leaping once more at the voidsent, and cleaves it in half, with one solid strike.

Lizzy senses the visceral rage oozing out of Shio.

Shio hears a small jingling in her right horn, as Lizzy’s noulith dances around her.

“I’m ok.” Shio says, evenly.

“Mhm. Sure. Was that therapeutic?”

“Not quite.” Shio smashes the altar with her axe, and carves the ground where sigils lay, “Now I’m ok.”

The two leave the cave.

[gisenne-flameheart]

Meals and Musings

Another piece from Shio @the-littlest-kojin after discussing survivor's guilt that Rubi might experience. From what I know of 7.0 so far I may have plenty of ideas for these two in a completely different context and setting - a more relaxed vibe which they all well deserve both <3

Standing over the pan, Gisenne hums quietly to herself, slowly turning the wooden spoon dextrously between her fingers. Turning the food to a high flame, she hears the vast, heavy footsteps of her love behind her. Leaning back into his touch, she smiles quietly as his arm wraps across her shoulders - warm and pleasant to the touch, as ever.

“It’s nearly done,” she murmurs, “And I hope you will like it.”

Gently taking the spoon from her hand - the implement seeming utterly miniscule in his larger hand - Rubicante dips it into the food, bringing it up to his face. Gently sniffing it and placing a small portion in his mouth, he starts in surprise.

“I was… Not expecting the sense of taste to be so potent. The Alchemists were… Surprisingly skilled at creating this body. What was this dish called?”

A low laugh escapes Gisenne’s lips as she turns in his embrace, looking up at his face. The surprise painted across his inhuman features is obvious, and brings a smile to her own visage. Gently kissing his jaw, the warmth radiating through the point of contact, she takes the spoon back, resuming stirring the pan. “It’s called paella. It’s one of my favourite foods.”

“I see. I am… Still adjusting to having a sense of taste at all. I think I would need to eat more foods before I could declare this one my favourite. However… I do enjoy you cooking for me.”

Humming again, Gisenne rests her shoulders against his chest. The smell of seafood permeates the small kitchen as she watches the crust slowly form, in the embrace of her lover.

“So voidsent do not have a sense of taste, then?”

“No. Absorbing aether does not have a taste - more of a feel. So culinary matters are… Novel, to me. Lots of things here are.”

Hearing the melancholy in his tone, the Elezen frowns. Turning in his grip again, she reaches up to gently cup his jaw with one hand. Stroking the warm flesh gently, she meets his gaze with hers.

“What’s on your mind, my Ruby?”

A sardonic laugh meets her ears as he shifts - carefully, in the kitchen he is much too large for - until he is seated. Gently pulling her into his lap, his large hands softly caressing her body, he shakes his head.

“This world of yours… Is a wonder. It is a shining jewel, after so many years in the Void. Your star is one of bounty and plenty, and a part of me keeps wondering - when will it all turn to ash, and dust, and smoke, as everything in the Void did for so many years?”

Shifting herself closer to him, cradled in his grip, Gisenne makes no response, giving him the space he needs. Gently, she strokes his jaw, silently trying to comfort him as he is vulnerable.

“And my brethren… I weep for them, my Sun. Golbez may have not been entirely honest with me - with all of us - but I do not know. I cannot know. And regardless of his honesty, or intentions… It is a cruel fate for my Voidsent brethren, to be trapped in such a cycle.”

Gently pulling his face down by the jaw, the Elezen presses a kiss to his jaw, unsure how to respond. Cradling the back of her head with one vast hand, he laughs again, the deep sound resonating through her body.

“Here I am bemoaning the state of the Void with my beautiful Sun in my grasp. What fool I, to sound so ungrateful-”

“Shh,” Gisenne interrupts him, her voice soft. “You are not ungrateful. You are speaking your heart - and you are always welcome to do so here.”

Dipping his head, he presses his lips to hers for a slow, lingering kiss. His hands caress her back as he holds her close, slowly breaking the kiss. Warm breath washes over her face as he smiles at her - a small, secret smile.

“I love you, my sun. But for now, shall you finish cooking? I would love to share this meal with you - and many more to come.”

“Of course, my Ruby,” she murmurs, gazing up at him beatifically. “And we will share those meals while working together for your goal - you are correct, and I want to aid you, now and forever.”

[questir]

1. reading them a story - (( N'theya will read him ALL the stories! ))

@the-littlest-voidsent / platonic prompts (accepting!)

N’theya seats herself on a bunch of cozy pillows as Masaki lays on his stomach, tail lazily flicking as he looks up at her expectantly with his chin propped up on his hands. Like any good storyteller, she loudly clears her throat and opens the storybook in her small hands with a flourish. She makes her voice soft but clear, just like Clover’s, as she begins the tale.

“Once upon a time,” she says, “there lived a little girl who had a monster for a friend...”

Masaki listens and smiles fondly at N’theya until that fondness gradually turns into captivation in the story itself as the girl describes the perilous journey the heroine must make to save her dear friend. When all is said and done, Masaki is sitting up with an eager look in his eyes and a proud glint in N’theya’s.

[questir-a]

001. grab their hand (( A glamor'd @the-littlest-voidsent ))

@the-littlest-voidsent | soft touch meme (accepting!)

He doesn’t even really notice until something brushes against his hand. Masaki jolts and looks down to see... a tiny lalafellin child trying to grab his hand. His heart just about melts. She’s so small and tiny and round. He kneels down to the child’s level and makes a soft, questioning noise as he holds out his hand for her to hold.

Is she lost? The au ra glances around but cannot find any parental figures lingering about...

[thevoilinauttheory]

Superstition by The Birthday Massacre

He says, “Intuition is awakening suspicion.” He says, “My tradition is the art of superstition.” “This condition is a slow decomposition.” He says, “My religion is the practice of sedition.”

( For @the-littlest-voidsent‘s N'theya! So, so sorry for the wait! I hope you like the music! )

[tobethestrongest]

[ The tiny, black-robed and white-masked figure had shown up on the door step, pumpkiny bucket in one hand as the other knocked. Her tail wagged rapidly behind her as she awaited an answer at the door, her bucked being lifted towards the taller adult ] "Trick or Treat!" (( From: N'theya! ))

It took a while to register that there was knocking at the door. When she did, however, it then took her time to hobble over. Her vision was still very limited, and the way was not too familiar - her quarters were not often used.When the door did open, the presence in front of her…

Was not exactly what she’d have wanted. 

She could feel it. The same sensation that had rendered her bed bound, controlled her as a puppet, was one with the shape of the girl in front of her. Her stomach churned, that familiar nausea rising, rising…

…but not rising further? She felt her body turn cold at the realisation, wondering just what that artifact had done to her, when the issue of the child snapped back to her mind with that call. Trick or treat? Hells bells, was it already All Saints? And that voice, was that a child?

It was a conflict of emotion. She harboured no love for the void. It had done grievous things to her. Made her do grievous things to a dear friend. But this was a child. A child…

A smile was forced upon her face. “A-ah, well, it’ll…it’ll be a treat, if i’ve any to hand, eh?” managed steadily enough as she slipped back inside, rummaging about best she could. This child needed to leave. If their intent was nefarious, then she was in no state to put up a fight, and if it was not then they were at risk if her friend returned to tend to her wounds. Her teeth grit on the other side of that door. What on earth was happening…?

 A few crashes thundered here and there, the sound of things knocked over, and then she re-emerged with a small, paper-wrapped package. A package of biscuits, sweet and simple and rich in butter. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to prepare for this. Is this a treat enough?” asked gently, hoping it would be enough.

@the-littlest-voidsent

[an-ale-of-a-tale]

the-littlest-voidsent‌:

The little one closed her eyes, thinking…and blocking out the sunlight. Why did everything have to feel so bright lately?  Bah.  She shook her head a little before offering a small smile.

“Hm… I’ve been resting for days…wanted to go out and see stuff for a bit… and it’s okay. Food’s…expensive.” Okay, no it wasn’t, but her food was. And after the incident at home, she didn’t want to risk taking any from other people… the last thing she needed to do was get in trouble again and that lady find out…  

N’theya stifled a small yawn, cracking her eyes open to look at the adult. “You don’t gotta worry…. ‘m a ‘venturer, I’ll be fine.” She tried to sound certain, giving a nod. She’d be just fine, yep, uh-huh, no need to worry here.

(( @an-ale-of-a-tale ))

       -- Soreas smiled at the childling, trying his best to be patient with her... but he was used to people actually saying what they wanted. Then again, if this child really was an adventurer, then she was getting the “be stoic and try not to worry anyone” part down pat.

      ... that alone was pretty depressing, though.

      ⟅⚔⟆ “Well, if you’re an adventurer, then you should know that adventurers always help each other out.” Ah yes, a convenient loophole.

      “Let me treat you, okay? Anything at all.”

                                                                                 [ @the-littlest-voidsent ]

[the-littlest-voidsent]

Art by: WiviAdopts @ DA

[unbloomingmoonflower]

@the-littlest-kojin helped me establish a name and heard me out for my backstory startings for my vampy. Without further ado:

Meet Cu Troia

MENTIONS OF 6.2 UNDER THE CUT.

Since I did the first dungeon of this patch:

Cu was locked away in Troia Keep by Beatrice. She stayed in a dungeon under the voidsent’s strict orders that her other minions not touch. Cu was noticed by Beatrice to be quite strong, but the vampire voidsent was still very young. So the dungeon in Troia Keep was where Cu remained. 

When she got a little older, Beatrice let Cu roam the castle; but as she’s had little to no interaction, her curiosity and, presumably, “shyness” had her keep to the shadows in the castle. Beatrice, though, treated Cu no differently than the hounds that guarded her castle and fed her scraps of aether. 

Cu is curious (think Ariel towards humans, minus the “wanting to run away with one”) and she hungers very easily. However, since Beatrice fed her scraps for all her life, she doesn’t know how to hunt for herself and has little to no predatory instincts.

With slight mentions to @invidia1988, we both teased at the idea of Shuri finding Cu and bringing her back with her. Cu becomes fascinated with Kivera and wants to be taught reaper things under her.

[aqueluna]

Prompt 4 (Extra/Free) - Borrow

CW: Blood

A sharp, all-encompassing pain drilling through the heart, agony flooding outwards, threatening to split her in half, the metallic tang of blood on her lips, her lips? They’d been her lips, but she didn’t have lips… or a heart for that matter. The gore-soaked magitek observatory was at once painfully close and hauntingly far, fading silhouettes losing focus, losing shape. One, prone - elongated, that was her… her body, she reached out a hand towards it - to return or would have done, if she’d still had a hand. Cold. A cold she’d never known, a chill so fierce that even the dissolving, fraying mass of conscious matter she’d been cut away into felt it with every fibre of her being. 

Darkness rapidly encroached - seizing first the sight of those accursed silhouettes - then sound, the indistinguishable words echoing from the chamber that’d been. The taste of gore and chest-tearing torment consigned to oblivion in turn, but even as the last of her being faded, the soul-maimingly frigid coolth persisted, joined by the sensation of falling… falling. For how long - she couldn’t say, or truly lend thought to - thought too had fled. Though eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the mind-thing that remained, freezingly, helplessly hollow, felt a fraying thread finally gave way with a great “RIP!” accompanied soon by another and another and another. Each felt rather than heard, each coaxing a fresh wave of returning agony through her waning consciousness, ever tumbling, ever writhing.

When finally miniscule, pitiable crimson speck of being that remained came to fall to the earth, nestling against the first piece of solid, darkness-shrouded ground that’d cradle her, she shuddered. Here too were silhouettes, not so faded, not so distant, wrought of shadow, with each moment, one congealed into a more complicated shape, then the next, then the next; a winged knight in armour as dark as midnight, a six-armed, gecko-like monstrosity with a fleshy, skull-like face, a willowy, masked creature shrouded in a pale sheet, a trio of figured with bat-like wings and oversized craniums and dozens more besides, each voidsent stranger than the last - though some part of the consciousness that had been recognised each and all. Once part of her… -made- to be part of her.

The ebbing speck recoiled, quivering as fear gripped its miniscule, broken soul as surely as the ornate, ebon gauntleted hand seizing it from the ground. “Thou art undone, mine captor,” the emotionless, tinny din of a bassy drone stated plainly, a welling tinge of ominous, cyan light building in its palm. This was it - the end. For the victor to feed on the vanquished - that had been the way of things, the latter persisting in part, form driven to the very edges and away, borrowed as the concrete of the foundation of new strength. But what was to happen to an existence as feeble as she? Would she fade, cease to be? As if she’d never been born…?

A sudden, metallic “CLANK!” rang through the void, followed by a dulled cry, the freshly freed blackguard clutching at their head as the many-armed reptilian voidsent subjected them to a mind-pryingingly traumatic fit of wrenched-up thoughts, fang-laden maw parting, preparing to clamp around an arm. Releasing the tiniest shred of voidsent they’d been intent on taking revenge upon. With that fateful strike and the rising din of a feeding frenzy breaking out in the background, a primal fear of the oblivion that might await her willing a consciousness without body, without legs or feet to move, ilm by torturous ilm.

Death had ever hounded the littlest voidsent - though never like this… a short inconvenience at best. Never banished to somewhere so dark, so terrible, so devoid of hope, always returned to… her body. Hers. It had been hers. Hers by right, so why was she here? Mustering up some of the last of her strength, the crimson dreg expanded her thinning consciousness outwards imperfectly, a lopsided sphere - clumsily rolling away, a ghostly pebble bleeding away her tiny reserves of aether as she made her escape. Though lonely, cobbled streets, tickled occasionally by the faded hues of a drizzling of confetti forever traipsing from the bleak, blackened broken sky above, the raucous shrieks and snarls of the conflict left behind, giving way to the dulcet, if oddly tinny notes of a flute.

The mournful tune serenading the tiny voidsent as she fled, waxing and waning as she passed odd metallic implements belching the sound, perched along the boulevards of a once beautiful city, or at least the shadow of one . The tragic solemnity of the crumbling parapets and stilled, inky canals once might well have given the rubicund speck pause but she was fading, ceasing to be, unable to bask in the lack of ambient aether, bleeding from the wound carved into her being upon being severed from her body… her body? And since when -had- she started to think of herself as a “her”? Perhaps…

Shaking off the thought, driven on by fear and hunger in equal parts, the tiny pebble of a voidsent rolled her way onwards. Aether… there had to be some around here for her to take, to fill her leaking soul before it ran dry.

Yet, search as she might, the lonely city - at once achingly familiar and terrifyingly alien vexed her at every turn until finally, spent of all but the last scraps of herself, her form unwravelled, growing indistinct once again, little more than a mote of dust, the inevitable oblivion catching up to her, dulling crimson darkening as the last of her being prepared not to be, To die here alone… for the entirety of her existence, she had never been alone, it was more than she could take, terror giving way to abject melancholy, preparing to choke the last of her away. Until a pair of crimson hands cupping together ever so tenderly scooped up the fading voidsent, hoisting her aloft to consider.

“Fie fie! Where is your parchment? Your ink?” a melodious voice sang more than spoke, letting the question linger only briefly, left hand cradling the ebbing voidsent, the right pulled free a few droplets of aether from her own being, sprinkling them across the dreg, chirruping with gently amused chiding, “To think you’d come home in such a state, little Fioll!” Though the urge to flee, or to turn on her would-be saviour and bite the hand that feeds both rise to the surface - self-preservation and hunger ever the strongest instincts of their ilk, Fioll hesitates, then settles for squeaking up rejection, “This isn’t my home.” To admit that somewhere so hollow, so defeated was where she belonged was a death of a different sorts, commanding, “Take me back, I need to get back to my body.”

Fluttering just above the ground, her saviour, too large by comparison for the smaller voidsent to consider in full, waved a normal-sized, comparatively giant finger at her, accompanied by another gentle chiding “Tsk, tsk. Your -borrowed- body little Fioll and not yours to take again!” The realisation sinking to the pit of what passed for the speck’s stomach, she spat, “B-But…” Only to fall silent, as her rescuer began to move, ferrying her forth. Energetic, sprung steps precise and purposeful in her destination, the greater voidsent chimed up, ever in sing-song tone, “Rest a-while, there’s something I’d have you see.” And so Fioll did, stewing in the serenading flute tune as to her fate. 

[clover-hawthorne]

(( ft. @herocatte​, @the-littlest-voidsent​, and the twins O’cheka and O’phemie! )) Edit:  GUESS WHO FORGOT EVERYONE’S FRECKLES

[gisenne-flameheart]

Flame, Encased in Crystal

Here is the first short piece written by the amazing Shio @the-littlest-kojin after we discussed and shared our ideas. Shio then wrote more for me. All Shio's work can be found under the tag #shio's writing

Striding up the mountain, Gisenne hangs up the linkpearl, Y’shtola’s warnings still ringing in her ears. Cresting the path, crowned with gleaming giantsgall crystals, she slows to a stop - a crimson-cloaked figure floating in the air above her.

On-guard, she slowly approaches - only to freeze in shock as a familiar voice meets her ears.

“Such an exquisite sight,” the voice says - so warm, so safe, like comfort, like home - “A canvas of vibrant colours. As was our world too, once.”

For long seconds, the only sound is that of the wind, and the rustling of the voidsent’s cloak. The Warrior of Light, working on reflex, reaches into her robes to grasp her soul crystal - the proof of her pact with a fire-voiced fiend, her confidant, her ally.

“...Are you the one who destroyed the treasure vault?” she asks, barely above a whisper.

Turning to look at her, holding his cloak across his body, the monster’s gaze is piercing as he examines her.

“I am. Rubicante, the archfiend of fire.”

There is a long pause as he continues to examine her - or maybe she just imagines one. Her heart is thundering in her ears, as each word makes it harder and harder to ignore that she knows that voice.

“A monster in flesh, yet in spirit I remain a man - a prisoner of the past,” he continues - his voice soft, and deep.

His gaze turns to the side, sadness filling his tone.

“Such tears I wept when Darkness consumed the world. Until Lord Golbez came, and spoke of salvation. Thus do I walk proudly at his side, to see his dream fulfilled.”

His gaze returns to her, piercing and weighing her. “Your heart is pure. For benevolent cause, you seek the dragon.”

“...As is yours,” she cuts in, her voice equally soft. “I know you, Rubicante. I have heard your conviction. Your cause is as pure as mine.”

Lowering himself to the ground, clawed feet landing upon the grass, he stands over her. Looking down at her, the wind snapping his cloak, his eyes fill with sorrow.

“We knew we were going to come to cross-purposes. This was always a danger.”

“I know,” she responds. “But I need to stop your Lord Golbez.”

“And I cannot let you. If you would continue, there is but one recourse.”

Sadly, she nods. Grasping the stone, she pulls it from her robe, gazing at the black crystal - shot through, she realises, with hair-fine tracery of crimson red - red like the cloak in front of her. Raising her eyes to look at the fiend, she nods down at the crystal questioningly, and raises an eyebrow.

“The pact will function,” he tells her, solemn. “I will honour our deal - give you power, even to this end. You have not betrayed your cause.”

Stowing the crystal again, she nods, drawing a shaky breath. “I am sorry that it has come to this.”

A sigh escapes the voidsent’s lips - the air from it warm, washing over her like a summer breeze. “As am I. I shall await you at the summit - come, and weigh your cause against mine.”

Without a further word, he turns into a flash of flame, and is gone - up, towards the very summit of Khadga.

-

Standing on the stone platform, the Elezen draws her scythe - holding it in the ready stance as she taps upon the power of her Avatar - the Pact with the voidsent standing in front of her.

Looking down at her, he smiles, drawing himself up in turn - drawing, she knows, on the wellspring of aether she has fed him.

“You stayed the course,” he pronounces, as flames start to swirl. “As I knew you would. As too will I! Come!”

Without a word, Gisenne leaps into battle - blinking back tears as she swings her scythe.

-

As the fiend falls to one knee, he laughs. “To defeat all of us archfiends… You are strong indeed.”

Reaching out one hand, warm fire blossoms from his fingertips - washing over Gisenne’s wounded, exhausted body. Unafraid, she steps into the flame, trusting the voice that has been at her side for so long. Behind her, running up the path, she can hear Zero’s shocked cry, and she holds one hand out, gesturing for the half-voidsent to wait.

Flames, crimson and gold, envelop her form, enshrouding her, encircling her - and when they dissipate, she is rejuvenated. Her wounds healed, her exhaustion burned away, her body mended.

“Zero,” she murmurs, solemn.

“Yes?”

“Please… Crystallise him.”

A look of bafflement on her face and Rubicante’s both, the black-clad woman limbers her scythe, gathering aether about the blade.

“Why?” Rubicante asks. “Why preserve my existence? I have been a persistent thorn in your side.”

Stepping forward, the Elezen raises one hand, resting it on his jaw - ignoring the near-burning temperature of his skin to give him this measure of comfort. “Because, you have also been my friend, my aid, my confidant. And I do not wish to lose you.”

Closing his eyes, the archfiend laughs. It is not a kind laugh - self-mockery and self-deprecation echoing from the crystalline surrounds.

“You,” he finally concludes, “have an odd definition of ‘friend’. And to do this would be to put myself yet further from my goal - a true death.”

Nodding, Gisenne looks up at him. Her gaze is heavy as she weighs her options, and his words. Finally, she speaks, her voice halting and quiet.

“...I would be most saddened to be deprived of your counsel - and our pact. If you truly wish to die, instead of be crystallised, I will not stop you - I could form a new pact. But your soul and mine… They are akin. They resonate. Surely you have noticed such?”

“...I have,” he murmurs. “And your cause is worthy, it is true. You truly value my counsel over that of any other?”

“I do. I trust your words - they are warm. And we resonate. Our souls… We are on the same wavelength. Do you not feel it?”

“I… I confess, I do. And what kind of man would I be, if I deprived you of my power before your own heart is fulfilled, and your goals complete? You are the flame I spent so long trying to preserve, it seems. The sun is represented in you - my sun. I will keep you burning.”

Her mouth agape, the Reaper watches as the towering figure turns to the woman behind her, resolve in his eyes and steel in his voice.

“Memoriate - crystallise me. I will aid my sun as best I can from my lithified prison.”

Stepping aside, the Warrior of Light watches as the strange ally from the Thirteenth does her magicks - and catches the small shaft of crystal in her palm.

Its presence is warm - comforting. The aether swirling within is familiar, half the essence of her Avatar, ready to mingle with hers.

“Zero,” she calls out. “Do you think the alchemists at the Great Work would be able to make him a custom body, the way they do Vrtra?”

Her expression as unreadable as ever, the Memoriate strides over, looking down at the piece of stone, held clasped in Gisenne’s hands. “It is not impossible. But I do not know; you would have to ask them. Are you to go there next, then?”

Nodding, the Elezen turns on her heel. “We are. Could you please fill the Scions in on what happened here?”

“As you wish,” Zero murmurs, watching her fellow Reaper stride down the mountain - back held stiff and straight, the crystal clutched to her breast.

[keroascrazy]

elements | Keroa Mosuke

   Bold what applies.    Italic what is partly true or situational.

AIR.

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch small animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / I meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE.

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped and torn styles of clothing / i play a sport / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy traveling / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER.

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love candle light /  i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love the chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

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Tagged by: @locke-rinannis​

tagging: @alandielsilmontaix​ @whitherliliesbloom​ @tiergan-vashir​ @surestepoftheclan​ @the-littlest-voidsent​ @denaillia-lamialich​ @anyone who wanna do the thing

[foul-humors]

[[ Taken by @the-littlest-voidsent. Adorable. ]]

[thevoilinauttheory]

GAME OVER! for Max or Lothaire, as you wish :>)

aahsdfhg my tags must’ve come out wrong!! I actually did ones for Lothaire and Max sooo long ago. Though Lothaire’s wasn’t a true “bad ending” so I think I’ll give him one!

First: Thank you for the ask! @way-to-the-future - time to get edgy~Second: Here’s a link to Maximiloix’s Bad Ending (Content Warning: Murder Mentions); and a Nobody Lives Ending for Lothaire (Content Warning: Suicide Mention and Idealization). Because Lothaire’s story has changed since I wrote this, he’s a bit easier to write for again.

Content Warnings for this prompt: Mentions of murder, mentions of relationship/familial abuse

It was well known that Lothaire was not the most stable man - from a general lack of luck, to obsessing over his Grandfather’s work, to out-right doing what not even the most ignorant would do. His breaking point was relatively low, the littlest change in his abilities would be all that he needed.

Of course, he’d claim that all he did was for his family; and never would he, personally, lay a hand on any of them. But that did not mean that they did not suffer. His children suffering as they watched him slowly descend into a madness that even Maximiloix could not reach; his husband watching as the man he loved became the man he hated.

Everyday, he’d turn his back on them to delve deeper into his “studies”, his “rituals” - the more strength he gathered, the more they suffered. Constantly surrounded by an almost sickening thick aether, painted black with the ichor of voidsent blood. The promise of being able to protect his family, backfiring as the lives of those around them ended.

More and more his obsession would turn to rampant and fervent destruction. 

He made a promise, years ago, that he would see through. He’d be damned if he didn’t. He’d do all that he had to to make sure that his husband - his latest obsession - was able to see his home, if not for a little bit. He didn’t know what it took to travel between stars, so he did it all. Everything he could get his hands on. From lives, to crystals, to texts. 

And soon, the promise became but a memory as his need to protect his family became his need to keep his family in his possession. They became cursed by the world around them - for whoever even gazed upon them, let alone pass them by, would find themselves dead that night.

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 30: Darkness

“Here seems like a good spot to set up.”

Thus declared the man at the head of the group as he stared up at the night sky above the treetops. Thankfully for everyone, the weather was holding up tonight in the Shroud. As long as the elementals didn’t get pissed and no wild animals or otherwise appeared, tonight should go just as planned.

Esredes laid the tent down on the ground, asking the others to help set it up. With the help of B’ahm and everyone else who pitched in, in no time they had a few tents set up, and an unlit campfire ready to be brought to life. Once he was satisfied with all the tents, and was sure to check for stability, he turned towards a purple-haired half Lalafell with a smile. “You get the honors tonight.” He said, gesturing towards the campfire. “Give it your best, Shalala.”

She breathed in a large breath, and then out came a small puff of fire. It was much less than Esredes was expecting, but it caught onto the log and the fire began to take hold, with a round of cheers from everyone else.

“Perfect.” Esredes said, taking a seat on the ground and stretching out his limbs. The rest of the party began to settle in various ways- Dione transformed into her dragon form, B’ahm dismissed himself to go fish at the nearby river with reassurance that he’d be back, and Seraphiaux…. decided to go hide behind one of the tents. Clearly the man was not yet comfortable around all of his contacts... oh well. In due time.

Esredes took the bag of marshmallows from beside him and opened it, putting several on sticks and distributing them to whoever wanted one. He was not the biggest fan of them himself, but he knew much of the party would gladly take them. Soon enough, Rusty was roasting a marshmallow, with a glance towards Alastor, who was also roasting smores… And Heilyn was beside him, trying to keep him from burning it.

Jaime gave a disapproving look around the campfire at all of the marshmallows, taking a stick and spearing a cut of boar meat while declaring that everyone had to eat proper food. This was of no protest to Dione, who eagerly crouched next to the campfire, sniffing the meat.

“Not too close, Dione. You’ll burn yourself.” Esredes quickly said.

Alise began cooking stew as Jaime cooked the boar. It seemed this camping trip would not be short on food in the slightest. Finally, Teagan showed the group the cream puffs she had brought. ”What’s camping?” Poor thing didn’t know what you were supposed to bring to a campfire, let alone what they were even doing. But it was a good first experience for her nonetheless, and a few people were glad to try a cream puff. Esredes himself politely declined. He wasn’t much of one for cream puffs.

So far, so good for the most part. Esredes relaxed his body and watched the party as the idle chatter filled the air. Rae was playing with his Carbuncle like usual, showing off tricks to the others. That bird companion of Luken’s was chirping as his Elezen companion whittled away at a little piece of wood, occasionally pausing to munch on his own snack, which earned him a glance from Rusty, but the Roegadyn said nothing.

Esredes glanced at Bellona, who was watching the others roast marshmallows, and got an idea. A smirk spread across his features as he grabbed a few marshmallows in his hand. “Hey, Bellona.” He said. “I’ll give you all of these marshmallows if you sing for us all.

The Miqo’te’s ears flattened against her head, and his smile grew even more amused. She said no, and Esredes only took a few more marshmallows from the bag. “Not even for this many? Hmm?”

Then to his surprise, she reluctantly agreed and stood up and walked over, grabbing the marshmallows from his hands forcefully and shoving a couple in her mouth. “My, I’ve finally cracked the code. She can be bribed with marshmallows. I will use this against you.”

“Shut up, old man.”

“Will do, infant.”

After she had sufficiently stuffed herself with marshmallows, she stood up in front of the campfire and began to sing a simple tune. And as Esredes heard it, he couldn’t understand why she hid her talent. Her voice was beautiful. When the song ended, he joined the rest of the party in giving her a round of applause and cheering.

“See, was that so hard?”

She threw a marshmallow at him. Worth it. He caught it in one hand, and threw it to Ambrose to eat instead. Soon B’ahm returned with a bucket of fish, and now there was a nice mixture of marshmallow, boar, and fish being roasted by the fire. Esredes had helped himself to a cut of boar, a bit of stew, and a couple fish by this point, as he listened to Levi and Cynric take their turn singing and playing together. It was almost like old times, just talking and cooking food over a campfire, only in a location that wasn’t cold as all seven hells.

Some time passed of this, before Esredes spotted a figure in the distance and abruptly stood up. Whoever it was, they were approaching the campfire. Esredes narrowed his eyes. “Who goes there?”

As the figure came towards the campfire, the light revealed them to be none other than someone Esredes never wanted to see again. The green-haired Elezen man flashed Esredes that same, irritating grin he always had.

What the fuck was he doing here. “I did not invite you here.” Esredes said with venom creeping into his tone. “How the hell did you know we were here?!”

“Never mind your dust packed red head about it,” Mazin said as he held up a bag full of spriggan chocolate and graham crackers. “S’mores?”

Several of the people eagerly piped up at the mention of s’mores, and Mazin walked around the campfire handing out the necessary materials to all who reached their hand out, while Jaime cried out something about s’more heathens. The man then took his place among all the others, still giving Esredes a knowing grin. He glared back at the man, but said nothing.

“Hey, where did my s’more go?”

“Did you not eat it?” Esredes responded, only for his eyes to land on Ambrose, who was about to put a s’more in his mouth despite his mouth being covered in chocolate already. “Ambrose.” Esredes said in a stern tone, only for B’ahm to stand up and smack Ambrose’s hand for him, before following it up with holding out his own s’more to him, explaining that he didn’t like milk chocolate very much. The Miqo’te child seemed to accept this, shoving it down his mouth.

The campfire continued on for a bit more after that, lively as ever, only for another uninvited guest to turn up. First came an Elezen man with a book in one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other, and an awkward smile on his face. “Sui? How did you get here?”

The little missionary responded that Nophica had guided him here or something like that. Ugh. Well, it was better than that green asshole who had invited himself in. The man sat among the others, uncorking his whiskey bottle and offering it to everyone. Most of the young adults declined after a little taste, B’ahm accepted a drink out of it, and Esredes helped himself to a little. Just enough to enjoy the taste, but not to get drunk.

And then just when he thought there’d be no more interruptions, an older Elezen man stumbled towards the campfire. “...What.” Esredes said. “Vesevont. You’re definitely not supposed to be here either.”

“I had to make sure all the kids here were SAFE,” the man responded.

“They’re young adults. They can…” Esredes glanced around the camp. N’theya was missing. Ambrose was making stick dolls. On second thought, never mind. He couldn’t argue. “Whatever. Feel free to join us, then.”

The campfire continued on. Sui talked about Nophica for a while, almost sending everyone to sleep before passing out himself. Once the man was out, N’theya returned, clutching a rabbit in her hands. “I FOUND A FRIEND!” She proudly declared, while Clover’s face turned red.

“...That’s nice of you, N’theya.” Esredes responded. “I just hope you can keep that thing secure. Come sit down and eat a s’more.”

Well, now everyone was finally settled in properly, plus four unexpected guests. It was at this point that Clover procured a book from her large bag. "I, ah, I brought the traditional ghost stories....I h-hope that is okay...."

“That is more than fine, Clover.” Esredes responded. Some of the others cheered eagerly. “Ghost stories! Ghost stories!” Yori looked particularly eager, leaning in closer to listen to the stories.

Esredes listened as Clover gave her best scary reading. It left much to be desired, but she did her best. N’theya’s rabbit hopped over towards him at one point. He smiled down at it and reached a hand down, gently petting it as Clover spoke. It settled itself into his lap and fell asleep.

Once she finished, the camp began to settle down. People were falling asleep one by one. Esredes looked up at the night sky, glittering with all the stars above it, and smiled to himself.

What a nice little moment they could all share together, unexpected developments and uninvited visitors aside. If only this moment could last forever, he could almost believe for a moment that this reality was worth it. But like the morning, the night wasn’t quite beautiful.

Yet even if he knew it wasn’t, as he looked out once more at all the faces of his companions, there was still one thing he knew was beautiful. The love that he witnessed all around him, yes, that was the true beauty that remained in such an ugly world.

And so he elected for the moment to allow himself to be happy. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the night, the low chatter of his companions, and the crackle of the campfire. The perfect sounds to fall asleep to, on a perfect little night like this.

—-

ANDDD THAT’S A WRAP FOR THIS YEAR!

THANK YOU EVERYONE AGAIN! I exhausted myself but I really wanted to be sure I could churn out Passable quality prompts. I hope you enjoyed what I put out this year!

Featured in this drabble: @punches-and-cream-puffs @the-littlest-voidsent @clover-hawthorne @ambroseffxiv @bookbornexiv @thecalmnessandthestorms @heartofthefury @dimensional-illusion @catte-bard @bowdownoverdweller @thesilverdragoon @mazinkhin @momokarp

Thank you to all my friends for always being there in and out of character. I appreciate you all more than you could ever know.

I greatly appreciate the support of all of you who liked my prompts, as well. It makes me happy to know some people did read and enjoy these, and it helps my motivation. So here’s to another great year of writing, and for all that will be generated next year!