#like where's my realm of light resort. where's my world tree resort. i think they should have seasonal resorts too.

[moe-broey]

I think they should add a birthday feature to FEH. I don't think this would really improve anything or change much but I do think it would be fun. MAYBE... it could be a relatively non-intrusive thing they could add to Aether Resort. Just like a little notification if you happen to go to the resort on a chara's bday (exactly like Fates actually!) And if you have random slots on your resort maybe that chara shows up.

[cyarikaplease]

in the middle of the night, in my dreams

chapter four: feel the rain on your skin

din djarin x f!reader

summary: In the dream realm, you and Din experience something new together.

You 

Is it possible to fall for someone who exists only in your dreams? 

Well, he says he exists in the real world, somewhere in the galaxy, but you’re unsure. Part of you feels stupid for falling for someone you just got on good terms with, someone you just kissed for the first time – all of this taking place in a dream, no less. This newfound intimacy you just barely started to share with him has you feeling self-conscious. You’ve only had sex once. It’s hard to have sex regularly on a planet where you’re one of the only humans. And to put it lightly, the Sullustans… don’t exactly do it for you. You can’t wait for the next time you’ll see Din, wondering just how far your intimacy will go. 

But as your dreams get more vivid… more enjoyable, real life grows unbearable. 

Shoan has been transferred to your new department, yet again only working a few stations down from you. He’s been standing uncomfortably close to you on the shuttle to and from work. In response, you’ve resorted to stealing different blaster parts in the hopes of constructing one by yourself at home.

That you’d have a way to defend yourself if need be. But you don’t even want to think about that just yet. 

There’s a small part of you that wants to escape, leave this planet entirely. Why not? Nothing is holding you here anyway. But the rational part of you tells you that it’s silly to leave everything you know (that is if you don’t get shot down in the process) for a man you’ve just met – a man you don’t know for a fact is even real. 

In your spare time, you decide to find out if the locations you’ve been dreaming of are real or not. During time spent at the library, you found out that the first time you saw him, you were on the planet Coruscant. You don’t know too much about Coruscant other than it’s the capital of the galaxy. As for the other planets, you think the time you saw him at a market place you were on an Outer Rim planet. You just can’t narrow it down with one. The snowy planet was Hoth and the forest one was Endor. But as for the mountainous place bathed in purple light? You can’t figure out where it is or if it’s even real. 

But when you’re not working or researching all you can do is anxiously wait to see him again, wondering where your subconscious will take you this time. 

-

Soft rays of sunlight peek down below between holes in the clouds. There’s a lake in front of you, small waves rolling on the surface, carried by the wind. A grove of trees behind you is in bloom, clusters of petals fall off the branches and drift away in the gentle breeze. It’s peaceful here, wherever you are. 

But where is he? Where is Din? It’ll only be peaceful here by yourself for so long. Too much solitude is ominous. If you’re going to enjoy this beautiful place, you want him here at your side. 

You look down at your clothes. They’re different this time– a short-sleeved shirt and a long flowy skirt. Why are they different? Din’s clothes are the same. They never stray from his all-black attire. 

You walk down closer to the lake, sitting just a few feet from the water’s edge. All you can do is wait. Maybe he’s not asleep yet. You close your eyes and relax, feeling the soft grass, ground yourself in the moment. After what feels like forever you hear his voice call out, “There you are!”

You turn your torso to get a look at him barreling down the rolling hill towards you. He’s 

wearing the same thing– of course he is. And he’s got a wide grin, eyes lit up like he’s ecstatic to see you. He sits down beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder like he did in the cave. 

“Someone’s happy,” you chuckle. 

“Just relieved I found you.”

“Where did you… spawn? Wake up? I’m not sure how to phrase that.”

He turns and points over the hill. “Somewhere over there. I got nervous when I didn’t see you,” he says, turning back to face the lake. 

“You got nervous?” you tease.

“...Yes,” he admits after a beat. 

That makes your stomach flutter, knowing he was searching for you, knowing that he’d miss your absence. You should leave it alone, not persist the matter any further but you have to know more.

“Why?” you prod. 

“I…”

He works through his thoughts as you remain silent. 

“I know we don’t know each other that well yet but I like this, vercopa.”

Vercopa. What does it mean? 

“Vercopa?”

“...Ner vercopa… my dream.”

His dream. Oh, how that makes your heart flutter. 

“I like this, too,” you say, leaning into him more. You feel him let out a sigh of relief as if he was worried you were going to hate the nickname. 

“What language is that?” you ask softly.

“I don’t know… I must’ve made it up,” he says, like he’s lost in thought.

You let it go, not wanting him to fixate on what it means. For what feels like hours, the two of you lean against each other, relaxing on the grass and staring at the lake. An environment like this is so foreign to you, one that you barely imagine even with the most vivid descriptions in a book. 

Suddenly, it starts to rain. Not a torrential downpour by any means, but a meek drizzle. As soon as the rain hits his skin, he stands, reaching a hand out to help you to your feet. 

“We should go,” he says, “Find some shelter.”

“Why?”

“It’s raining,” he says.

It’s raining. 

…You’ve never felt the rain before. You’ve never really felt any of the elements before, besides the fleeting amount of sunshine you get between the walk from the shuttle and the doors of the factory. For as long as you can remember, you’ve been bound to the underground life on… wherever you live. You can’t recall where right now, of course. 

“I’ve never felt the rain,” you tell him. 

“No?”

You shake your head no and he sits back down beside you. 

“I haven’t… felt the rain in a long time,” he admits. 

“Might as well enjoy it then,” you say, returning to your rightful place, engulfed in his arms again. 

You’re starting to get damp, but it's not a bad feeling. It’s not cold, either. It’s a warm rain that feels inviting, welcoming. You pull a way for a moment to look at him– the way his skin glistens in the rain, the water dripping from his curls, the way his pupils are blown wide, leaving only a small ring of the familiar brown that consumes your every waking thought. Maker, you want him. And you already know that you can kiss him in a dream… Does that mean you can do other things, too?

Your lips crash into his and he immediately accepts the kiss, like he’s been waiting for you to make the first move. He’s so… cute, in the way he’s shy for affection yet also so eager for it. Like the last dream, you move so you’re no longer beside him, but straddling his lap. For a second, you’re worried you’ll wake up, worried that this precious moment will be ripped away from you once again. 

But you don’t. The moment is yours like the universe is letting you take hold of something for once in your life. 

Din’s hands migrate to your waist, clutching you desperately, like he too is worried you’ll both wake up again. His touch sets your skin aflame even as you’re being rained on. It’s so nice to be held by someone, to be desired. It’s been too long since you’ve felt the embrace of someone who truly wants you. Continuing the kiss, you bring your hands to either side of his face, running your thumbs over his patchy facial hair. But then your hands migrate to the hair atop his head, fingers tangling themselves in his curly locks. And that does something. It pulls a deep moan from him.

“Too much?” you ask, pulling back but only a couple of inches so you’re still hovering over his lips. 

“No, I’m just not used to that.”

“You’re not used to someone touching your hair?”

“Nope.”

“Well… Do you like it?”

“I love it,” he breathes out as if he’s just discovered a new thing that makes him weak in the knees.

You return your lips to his, settling down on his lap and feeling his bulge press up against you. His hands move to your skirt, pulling it up and exposing your thighs. You grind your hips against him as he sinks his fingertips into your thighs, holding onto you for dear life. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you chuckle against his lips. 

“You don’t know that. What if we wake up?”

“Then we just go back to sleep,” you say, kissing him again. 

One of his hands slides up farther on your thigh, getting closer to your groin.

“Can I?” he asks, mumbling against your lips.

“I’ve been waiting,” you tease, pulling yourself off of him to lie down on the grass. 

He moves in between your legs and hikes your skirt up further, pulling off your underwear and spreading your thighs. He takes two fingers and runs them along your entrance, gathering at the wetness that’s already forming there. He pulls his fingers back and brings them to his mouth, closing his eyes and humming at the taste.

He slides one finger in, leaning forward so he’s hovering directly above your face, watching you react to his touch. Your eyes close, lashes fanning against your cheeks, skin peppered with tiny raindrops. Your mouth falls open as he curls his finger against your g-spot. It feels so good but you need more.

“More,” you beg.

“Only if you keep your eyes on me, ner vercopa,” he says, using his free hand to grab your chin. 

You open your eyes to find his locked onto yours, a connection so intense it makes you shy. But the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the galaxy that matters to him, it’s worth getting past the shyness.

Finally, he obeys your wishes, inserting another finger slowly. You let out a breathy moan at the newfound girth inside you, feeling your pleasure build as he pushes against your g-spot with both fingers. Just as you think you’re doing a good job holding on, he rubs his thumb over your clit, and the floodgates open. Your orgasm washes over, your cunt convulsing around his fingers. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing you while still holding onto your chin. 

He pulls back and rests on his knees, moving down to rest on his elbows. 

“Oh! You don’t have to-” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I want to taste the mess you made, ner vercopa,” he says, warm breath tickling your core. 

Without warning, he licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt, moaning at the taste of your release. He hooks his arms around your thighs, pulling you close while he laps at your cunt. You grind yourself against his face, his nose rubbing at your sensitive clit. In no time, he pulls your second orgasm from you, your thighs shaking and your wetness coating his face. He pokes his head up once you’re done, smirking at you with the lower half of his face completely soaked. 

“You taste so good,” he says, rubbing his thumb along his jaw and licking the remnants of your high. 

Kriff, that was hot. 

Resting on his knees again, he pulls his already hard cock from his pants. He gathers some of your wetness on his hand and spreads it on his cock, giving it a few strokes. As he hovers over you, he aligns himself with your entrance, resting on his elbows on either side of your face. He kisses you as he enters you, your moans combining into one breathless sound. Your walls expand to accommodate his size as he buries himself to the hilt inside you. He draws his hips back and slams back into you, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. As he thrusts in and out of you, his eyes are locked on yours, his matted, wet curls sticking to his forehead. You bring your hand to his cheek, stroking his facial hair with your thumb. The whole experience is oddly intimate and romantic for someone you just met but it feels right, here in this field with the lake beside you and the raindrops glistening on your skin. 

With one last final jut of his hips, you come undone around his cock. Your walls squeezing around him triggers his release, too, spilling his cum inside you as you cum together harmoniously. He remains inside you until he goes soft, giving you one more kiss before pulling out. He collapses down on the grass beside you, pulling you into his chest. 

“That was amazing, ner vercopa,” he says breathlessly. 

“That was,” you affirm, tracing a finger up and his chest. “It’s been a while for me,” you admit, poking your head up. 

You wince in anticipation of his response, wondering if he’ll chastise you for your confession. But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he says, “Me, too. And I’m sorry for coming inside.”

“I don’t think that matters in a dream,” you laugh. He laughs, too, and it’s a sound you want to hear until the end of time.

You inch yourself up closer to kiss him again, a deep, passionate, needy kiss. 

But that’s when reality decides to be cruel. And you’re not in a field with your lover, wet from the rain. Instead, you’re alone in your bed, longing for his touch, and trying desperately to remember the nickname he gave you. 

Din

It’s the same thing every time; waking up alone Razor Crest. This time was different than all of the other dreams he’s had with you. You felt so real. You tasted so real. He would do anything to go back and feel more of you, to hear more of your pretty moans. Being there in the field with you made him realize just how touch-starved he is. And all he wants is to be back by the lake with you in his arms. 

In fact, he tries to go back to sleep but to no avail. It seems like that was in for now until he goes back to bed tonight. 

But besides the sex, there was something else that was different about that; the rain and how you chose to stay in it. His first instinct was to seek shelter and stay dry, but you chose to slow down and enjoy the moment. You made him appreciate something as simple and mundane as the rain, something you’d both been deprived of for so long. And that’s why he likes you. He likes you because you allow him to enjoy the simpler things in life, things he would normally miss. 

He’ll anxiously await the next dream and the next simplicity you’ll show him how to appreciate. 

[judysupremus]

There is a weird buzzing in Marinette's ear. In an attempt to quiet it she shakes her head, only to stop when she feels a sharp pain at her temple. After a moment everything is still and blissfully silent.

She thinks maybe she'll fall back asleep. That's what she was doing right? Laying facedown and exhausted is not outside the realm of normal.

The buzzing is back and much louder until it suddenly becomes a voice.

"Get up. Right. Now."

The voice is harsh and but familiar. Marinette can recognize the urgency in it and decides to heed it. In a colossal show of effort she gets her arms underneath her and raises to a forearm. She keeps her forehead pressed to the ground even as she brings herself to her knees. The world is spinning and every part of her body hurts.

"Move faster." The voice is next to her ear now.

" 'm trying, Dick."

"Tt. Do not insult the person trying to save your life." With that a hand wraps around her bicep like a vice but helps her stand up very slowly.

Marinette shields her eyes with one hand and grips the man's jacket with the other. Everything feels very wrong. She slumps against a wall, suddenly dizzy - she's going to be sick.

"You will not empty your stomach on my shoes!" The voice hisses. She is trying very hard not to, she really is, but the world feels wrong. The hand still hasn't left her arm and Marinette is so grateful for the support. As much as it hurts it is also a comfort, until he gives her arm a harsh shake. She must've stopped walking.

"If you don't keep moving I will leave you here to die."

They must be in serious trouble if he resorts to being such an asshole. He is never this hard on her.

So, she does everything she can to keep moving. She doesn't know where they are but he must. They're stealthily making their way up the building. There are unlit hallways and dark staircases. When they have to hunker down and wait Marinette loses consciousness a few times. Somewhere, in the functioning part of her brain, she realizes she must have a concussion.

"We're almost out."

She hums in answer. The world is dark and the air is stale around them. She can only just make out his figure in front of her.

At long last they exit a door to the outside. It's night time but by the light of the full moon Marinette can see that they are I'm the middle of a forest. No, maybe a jungle - the air is thick with humidity.

Behind them the door looks like it leads to a tiny shack, not unlike a maintenance closet. It's almost hidden amongst the trees and vegetation around them.

"This is not the place to rest. Go back to your accomodations and do not speak to me ever again." His voice is sharp and commanding, almost condescending, and it feels like slap in the face. Dick is never like this, never.

Marinette finally faces him, intending to give Richard Grayson a piece of her mind. She takes a step back in shock. He is not Dick. Their cadences are similar and he's just as stealthy as him, maybe more, but they look at her very differently.

After a disappointed click of his tongue he stalks away and quickly disappears in the night. She has only seen his pictures before, Damian Wayne, and it's a face that's hard to forget.

She understands now why some would rather leave him to the terrors of the island - of the tournament. But she also hears Dick talk about how much he loves his brother. And Damian did save her.

So she'll do what she came to do. Marinette will return Damian to his home and his family. And she will learn more about the Lazarus League.

[hiddendreamer67]

A Slippery Slope pt. 1

Summary: Logan, a graduate student studying the local ecosystem, discovers that the mystical creature populations are dwindling. He proposes a new theory, of a creature larger than life hiding out in the forest. Logan searches the forest for the beast, forgetting one important detail- in order to find a dangerous apex predator, the predator has to find you. 

(Also quick credit- I’ve been brainstorming this world with the wonderful @delimeful who suggested the initial idea. :D )

Check out more of my work at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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

Logan stared at his notes, running a hand through his hair distractedly as he looked over the numbers he had practically memorized. “It doesn’t make sense.” He murmured, blinking suddenly as a thought occurred to him. “Or perhaps… it makes perfect sense.”

“What are you on about, Sanders?” His mentor asked, glancing up from his own research work.

“Sir, I’ve been going over the numbers of harpy populations again.” Logan explained, looking up as he tried to work out the logistics of his new theory. “It doesn’t add up. Based on the observations of subjects in captivity, their lifespan is averaged to be fifty years. With the birth expectancy rate being what it is, and conditions being optimal the past few decades, the population should be twice its actual size, if not more.”

“So I take it the Chimeras have been busy.” His mentor shrugged, both of them sharing a brief grim look. Chimeras were awful beasts that dominated the surrounding forests, giant monsters with a lion’s head, goat’s body, and snake tail. They were known for breathing fire and decimating clearings, feasting on whatever creature was foolish enough to cross its path. 

“That’s where the anomaly occurs.” Logan adjusted his glasses, pulling together his papers. “The evidence of Chimeras in the area has… decreased.”

“Migrated elsewhere?” 

Logan shook his head at the suggestion. “No, evidence has not appeared in any of the surrounding areas. In fact, based on the reports from various rangers, there’s even evidence of deceased Chimeras, in the form of discarded partial remains.”

His mentor hummed, considering this new information. “So then, what, the Chimeras are growing territorial? Beating each other up?”

“The chances of such behavior being the case are infinitesimal.” Logan negated. “Chimeras are known to welcome pack tactics. Even with the decrease in harpy populations there are plenty of other sources of food in the area so as not to necessitate violence over resources, and certainly no reason to resort to cannibalism.”

“Cannibalism?” The mentor’s eyebrows raised.

“Why else would a whole corpse not be discarded?” Logan supported his statement. “These reports indicate only small portions of the Chimera’s structure being left behind. In several accounts the horns were discovered, as well as the snake tail looking as though it were severed.”

“Hmm.” His mentor slowly turned in his chair, facing Logan head on. “So you have a theory then?”

“I do.” Logan nodded, taking a moment to straighten up. He took a deep breath. “I believe there’s a larger apex predator hunting them.”

Unsurprisingly, his mentor looked at him in disbelief. “What? What do ya mean, you think there’s something bigger than a Chimera? How the hell would we miss something like that?”

“I have no idea.” Logan admitted. “Perhaps it is new to the area, or especially skilled at camouflage. It’s exceptionally possible that there have been previous fatal encounters chalked up to be caused by one of the other several dangers of the forest. But regardless, all the evidence points to-”

“To a disease.” His mentor cut him off. “The Chimera’s likely developed some virus that’s working through their system and driving ‘em all mad. It would explain their behavior and is more plausible than a giant man eating beast nobody’s seen.”

Logan pursed his lips, never a fan of being told he was wrong. 

“Look, Logan, you’re a smart kid.” His mentor explained gently, hitting another one of Logan’s buttons by calling him a child. “I think this research of yours is really admirable, it’ll make a fine thesis. You’re really onto something here. But don’t go blowing it by hypothesizing outside the realm of reality.”

Logan did not deign him with a response, appearing a bit huffy as he began to pack up his papers. It almost appeared he was a pouting child, if not for his business attire indicating his seriousness.

“I don’t want to discourage you.” His mentor continued. “This is truly remarkable! If you could discover the disease that’s infecting the Chimera population, your research would be published for certain. I can help you gain the necessary resources, it may be difficult to gain access to live samples but until then I have some friends down in the lab-”

“Thank you.” Logan cut him off with a curt nod. “I… appreciate the assistance. But I want to re-investigate my own claims before I pursue this route.”

His mentor sighed knowingly. “I know, your first discovery is always difficult. Take your time, if you want to look into this ‘apex predator’ thing by all means don’t let me stop you, but remember that your thesis needs to be built on hard evidence- not just theories.”

“Yes, I understand.” Logan gave him a soft smile. He gathered up the last of his belongings, bidding his mentor farewell before heading out the door. As soon as he left the room, Logan’s smile faded. Evidence. How was he supposed to gain evidence of a creature thought to not exist?

Well, there was only one thing to it, Logan supposed- Logan would just have to find the apex predator himself. 

Now Logan was no fool, he’d grown up in the town of Sireville and knew the dangers as well as any inhabitant. It was a risky business, traversing into the forest, but Logan also knew that numbers would attract unwanted attention. He knew these woods well enough to recognize signs of danger as well as any anomalies that would prove he was on the right track. Logan was also intelligent enough to wait until the following morning, not venturing out at a time when night could befall him. To be caught in the woods at night never ended well. 

It would be perhaps wise to let someone know where he was going, but if something went wrong to the point where Logan couldn’t handle himself the only thing a rescued party would discover would be his remains. Logan shuddered briefly at the thought as he entered his kitchen, giving his mother a wave before gathering the necessary supplies for his trip.

“What’s got you all dressed up?” His mother asked, peering over the counter at his attire. Logan had changed from his usual business casual into something more fitting for the forest, equipping a sturdy set of boots over his hiking pants and throwing on his tactical long sleeved shirt. 

“Field study.” Logan explained, purposefully being vague as he finished packing his backpack. 

“Alright, be safe.” She frowned lightly at him. “Don’t wander too far, alright? And stay on the paths.”

“I’ll be alright.” Logan reassured her, purposefully avoiding making any promises as he stepped out the door. This certainly wasn’t the first time he went out to gather evidence, having done it on several occasions throughout his studies, but it would certainly be the furthest journey yet if his expedition proved successful. Logan had taken the necessary precautions, packing extra rations should the day grow long. He didn’t pack anything for camping through the night, intending on hiking back before nightfall. At the very least he wouldn’t be foolish enough to fall asleep in the middle of the woods with so many creatures patrolling.

Logan took a deep breath, stepping in amongst the trees that had grown so familiar. He made a quick pace, wanting to get as deep as possible before the light faded. The college student took note of his surroundings, waiting for any sign of the extraordinary that he had not viewed before. The further he traveled the less familiar the trees became, growing further apart- a sure sign that larger beings had pushed them aside and nature adapted to the creature’s whims. It was truly terrifying the things that some beasts could accomplish, the impact they could have on the world around them possibly without even noticing it.

What sort of beast was Logan tracking, anyhow? He began to ponder this, growing tense as the background chattering of birds became accompanied with the low shifting of some great beasts far off. Logan paused, observing his surroundings and trying to pinpoint the noise. Could that be his target? Surely not, it wouldn’t be so easy. And yet Logan hardly recognized this clearing, and the markings upon the trees were different from any left by a harpy taking flight. Instead the limbs seemed… weary, as if something of great weight had been draped across them.

Observing further, Logan grabbed his journal and began to take diligent notes of his surroundings, adding accompanying drawings when necessary for illustration purposes. Now keeping a keen eye out for details, Logan spotted a familiar slithering track upon the forest floor. A lesser field scientist might have dismissed it for that of a Chimera’s tail, but Logan noticed there were no accompanying footprints. Furthermore, the track was far too thick to belong to a Chimera snake. 

No, whatever creature laid these tracks was larger than a Chimera. Logan was practically giddy with excitement, scribbling frantically into his notebook. He was right! Some disease, indeed. Curiosity overtaking him, Logan wasn’t thinking clearly as he blindly followed the tracks deeper into the forest. The trees began to twist and curl in unnatural patterns, bent out of shape to make shade or revealing clearings of sunlight in others. Logan leapt over a fallen decaying trunk, pondering what other evidence he might discover. Perhaps some of the Chimera pieces? A discarded scale or feather? Or perhaps…

Logan froze, hearing a soft whistling noise coming from further up the path. It had a familiar pattern to it, slowly Logan recognizing the sound as faint snoring. He crept closer, now incredibly mindful of where his feet were placed. Logan peeked through the underbrush, barely holding in his gasp at the sight that awaited him.

Or perhaps the creature itself.

Logan couldn’t comprehend what was before him. At first, all Logan could process was the gigantic, ever so slightly shifting wall of red scales before him, aligned in the familiar pattern of a reptile. Before he even made an initial hypothesis Logan’s head snapped up at the sound of another snore, a hand going to his mouth at the sight. It seemed that this giant reptilian beast had a homo sapien upper half, not unlike a harpy or the merfolk. A naga. 

Logan had only heard tales of them, always assumed to be mere legends or perhaps having gone extinct ages ago. But looking at the sight before him the notion of going extinct seemed ridiculous. What could possibly wipe out such a gargantuan creature, clearly bred to dominate the ecosystem? Certainly nothing less than another meteor shower.

Entranced, Logan was ever cautious as he raised his pencil to his notepad, giving one practice skritch across the paper. He flinched at the noise, but the clearing remained undisturbed. Logan gave the tiniest sigh of relief, knowing that at any moment he could be in very imminent danger.

But what was the harm in staying one moment longer to observe? If the beast were to wake this moment, Logan would certainly be unable to outrun it should the naga pursue. He would be in harm’s way anywhere, so Logan took advantage of this opportunity and began to expertly sketch the creature. He had come this far after all. Best not to waste it.

Logan stuck his tongue out in concentration, not wanting to miss a detail even in his haste to finish and get out before the creature woke. His eyes glanced up every few moments, taking in the monster’s posture. It’s position was languid, relaxed back upon its own tail as if using it as a bean bag chair. It appeared to be quite pleased, likely taking pleasure from soaking in the sun that poured through. One arm lay across its forehead, the other straight back so its fingers just grazed the ground. Logan took careful note of these appendages, aware of the sharp claws on each one and how they twitched every so often in sleep. 

His drawing was beginning to take form, having captured most details he could from this angle. Logan was debating the pros and cons of attempting to move to get another angle when the naga let out a large yawn, briefly displaying its fangs. Eagerly Logan flipped to a new page, jotting down a new sketch before the sight disappeared entirely. Why, by his estimations one of those fangs could easily dwarf his entire arm in length. 

So enraptured in his work was he that Logan failed to notice the yawn was only the beginning of a chain of events. The creature’s claws left the ground, coming up to stretch above its head with a creaking of bones that got Logan’s attention. He froze, watching the intimidating beast stretch skyward as it lifted its torso and basked in the sun for a moment more. 

Slowly it dawned on Logan what a precarious situation he was in; his research would all be for naught if he died before presenting his findings. Logan clutched his journal to his chest, heart pounding as he watched the naga sniff the air. It didn’t take a student fluent in animal behaviors to know exactly what scent the creature had picked up as it frowned, tongue stuck out to sniff the air again.

Under normal circumstances, Logan would hope estimate that, being so small in comparison, a naga would pay a human no mind. There were much larger creatures in the forest that would make more filling prey. However, half-humans always seemed to have a dangerous curiosity about their counterparts, and Logan had trespassed into this being’s territory. 

Logan gulped, all color draining from his face as those piercing red eyes bore directly down onto him. Immediately Logan turned to run (a fruitless effort), but before he had even fully turned Logan felt himself yanked backwards and into the air, eliciting a cry from the startled human who frantically tried to keep a grip on both his glasses and his book as he found himself dangling painfully upside-down, only the grip of those claws on his left leg keeping him from falling to a quick demise. 

Logan found himself feeling a bit dizzy as he was brought before the naga’s face. Those fangs were perhaps a bit less intriguing as they cruelly smiled at him, the naga’s eyes boring into his soul as he was turned this way and that like a curious bauble. 

“Why hello there, my little morsel.” The naga’s statement rumbled with dangerous curiosity, sending a wave of warm breath over Logan that made the human shudder. If he were not so entranced with those perilous teeth (was that a venomous sac below the rearmost fangs?) Logan might have noticed the alarming glint in its eyes. “I don’t think one of you has ever wandered this far, not without my rancid brother getting a hand on them first at least.”

Oh good lord there’s two of them. Logan jolted at this newest realization. Two? No wonder the populations were dwindling so drastically.

“So what makes you so special?” The naga tilted its head, poking Logan with a single claw, eliciting a startled breath in from the human who was very surprised he hadn’t just been torn to shreds. For now the naga seemed amused enough to watch as Logan slowly began to rotate, clearly toying with him in its ‘playful’ demeanor. “Well? Go on then, does the meager human speak?”

“I-I-” Logan cringed, loathing the sound of his own voice as it had raised an octave. It didn’t help that all the blood was rushing to his head. He cleared his throat, holding on to the minuscule hope that such a beast could be reasoned with. “Yes, I can speak.”

With a flick of its wrist Logan once again found himself airborne, letting out a high pitched noise of protest before finding himself one skipped heartbeat later once again within the monster’s clutches, this time right side up.

“‘Squeak’ is more like it.” The naga chuckled, prodding Logan’s side. The human winced away from the touch, though it was difficult with how tightly the claws were curled around him. Logan could feel his journal digging into his side. 

Still, Logan couldn’t help but frown, feeling that he was being mocked.

The naga hummed, seeming to debate with itself for a moment. “So what were you doing spying on me anyhow?” It asked, its expression betraying a hint of confusion. “I heard your heart racing a mile a minute in that bush.”

Logan cringed. “You… you did?”

“Why I would have expected to find a hummingbird, I could hardly have missed it!” The naga scoffed. “And yet for all your jitters you didn’t move a muscle. Did fear make you freeze? Are you simply stupid?”

“No.” Logan answered, perhaps a bit too petulantly for dealing with a gigantic predator. He coughed, checking his temper. “I mean, ah, I was perhaps too absorbed in my own jubilation, as I had been looking for you.”

“For me?” The creature seemed to almost purr, its smile returning as Logan felt the grip around him loosen ever so slightly. “Oh, how you flatter me. Then of course you must have appreciated what you found?”

“Well...yes?” Logan turned a bit red, unaccustomed to this line of socialization. T’was a true pity his life was resting on his perilous social skills. “That is to say, you’re certainly extraordinary, surpassing all my initial expectations.”

“Hmm.” Pleased with this response, the naga settled to lay stomach down on its own scales, holding Logan out before it. The claws shifted again, now forming a sort of basin so that Logan could sit freely. “How so?”

By all of Logan’s calculations, this was going well. The creature seemed entertained enough to spare his life, for now. Logan just needed to keep the conversation going until… well, Logan preferred to focus on the present even as those perilous jaws loomed so casually above him.

“I suppose, firstly, your very existence was an unexpected surprise.” Logan adjusted his glasses, the frames having become skewed in all the excitement. “Very rarely are my assumptions incorrect, so I knew there was some manner of apex predator roaming these woods, but as to your exact classification I admit that was a mystery. There is a common understanding that nagas are creatures of legend, or perhaps long extinct. Certainly…” Logan paused, realizing perhaps this wasn’t the most logical point to bring up. “Certainly if others have discovered  you, none have returned to tell the tale.”

The naga gave a scoff. “That’d be my brother’s doing, no doubt. Did you know we used to be worshiped apparently? Back in the golden days we were like gods. That was before people like him started experimenting with other uses for humans. Wasteful, if you ask me, disposing of such large numbers so quickly-”

“I wholly agree.” Logan spoke up too soon.

The naga snorted, clearly amused by the human’s timing. “I, on the other hand, prefer to play with my food.”

“...ah.” Well, that was a less than ideal response. Logan cleared his throat, trying to hide his nerves as he curled a bit in on himself, readjusting the grip on his journal. “So, ah, you mentioned a brother twice now, as well as hinting at others. How many of you are there?”

The monster frowned slightly, and Logan immediately regretted his question. “...Well I hardly think it matters, we nagas keep to ourselves well enough. Lucky you for stumbling upon the best naga of them all.” This last statement was accompanied by a very cocky smile.

“Hmm.” Logan wasn’t certain he agreed, but naturally he had no subjects to compare. “I was merely curious as I conduct research on local wildlife and wanted to compare behavioral traits between your kind and the Coachwhip species, of which your scale pattern most resembles.”

The naga blinked, glancing down at its tail as if for the first time. “It does?”

“As far as I can tell, yes.” Logan turned to his journal, flipping back through the pages. He cursed, realizing his reptile notes were in a different book. “Alright, my apologies, I forgot my scale reference sketches back home, but see?” Logan pulled up the sketch of the naga himself instead, pointing at the tail pattern. “The pattern of your scales represents a braided whip-”

“Is that me?” The naga cut him off excitedly, Logan’s stomach lurching as he was raised higher. 

Logan blinked, glancing between his drawing and its inspiration. “...yes?” 

He watched the naga’s reaction very carefully, hoping the monster was pleased with what it observed. At first Logan worried that the beast would be enraged at the fact Logan had been spying for an extended period, or worse yet perhaps it would feel the need to destroy his notebook to remove any evidence of its existence. To his relief, the creature seemed to be almost pleased as it took in the intricacies of the drawing.

“You made this?” A careful pair of claws pinched at the journal. Logan tightened his grip, before realizing that in a strength contest either the naga would win or his book would be shredded. With this in mind he reluctantly released, watching the massive being lift the journal ever higher to view it above its head as if to shine light through counterfeit currency. 

“Yes, I have always been known for my attention to detail, and illustrations have been proven to assist in comprehension of reports-”

“Can you do it again?” The naga cut him off, handing Logan back his notebook.

“I, yes, I suppose.” Logan furrowed his brow, confused. “Right now?”

“Well it hardly appears as if you’re doing much else at the moment.” The naga gave a loud, purposeful yawn, displaying its fangs. “Of course, I’m certain I can find other, tastier ways to spend our time together…”

“Understood.” Logan grimaced, the monster’s subtlety lacking. “Very well then, is there a- particular feature you want me to illustrate?”

“Don’t go cutting any of my gorgeous figure off!” The naga scoffed. “I best be seeing my beauty tip to tail, you hear me?”

“It would be impossible not to.” Logan tried to hide his growing irritation. “But to create such a piece, I’ll need to be placed on the ground so as to have an appropriate vantage point.”

His request was considered. “Very well.” The naga agreed, setting him once again down on the ground. 

Logan stumbled, surprised to once again feel solid ground under his feet. It was astounding- just moments ago, Logan would have doubted his ability to experience this ever again. 

“Tick tock, come now with your tiny talents.” The naga poked him with an impatient claw. Quickly regaining his composure, Logan pulled out his writing utensil and opened to a clean page.

“Is there a particular angle you’d prefer?” Logan asked.

“I am a priceless gem, I sparkle from all angles.” The creature purred, striking a pose where it was once again draped over its own tail as if lounging on a fainting couch.

Logan huffed, fighting the urge to rant about how light reflection actually works. He glanced around, taking a few steps back and debating only for a moment if he should turn tail and leave.

“I hope you’re not thinking of running off on me.” The naga seemed to read his thoughts, raising a taunting eyebrow.

Logan jumped, focusing back to the task at hand. “I’m not.” He lied, finally putting his pencil to the pad. “Just finding the best setup location.”

The naga hummed, clearly not believing a word, but seemed satisfied to watch Logan work. A bit too satisfied, as it leaned up and attempted to watch over Logan’s shoulder.

“Stop looming, you’ll cast shadows.” Logan huffed. “And if you keep moving about I’ll never finish, sit still.”

“You’ll never finish regardless.” The naga pouted, but flopped back amongst its coils. “You’re taking forever.”

“It has hardly been a minute.” Logan debated in his head how slowly he could draw without generating suspicion. He wanted to drag this event out as long as possible, having full knowledge that if the naga was satisfied with Logan’s work he might deem Logan’s task- and thus his life- as finished. Logan shuddered at the thought.

Clearly bored, the naga’s attention was once again focused solely on Logan, preventing any escape attempts. It was quite distracting, having those piercing eyes staring down at him so intently. It was especially infuriating that Logan couldn’t guess as to what it was thinking. 

Why make him draw the creature again? Surely one drawing would be enough? Perhaps it merely wanted an illustration where it could be alert and poised. But what would come next? Would the naga request more illustrations, or would the monster be satisfied? What would occur if Logan’s pencil broke? Or perhaps the creature grew hungry before Logan was even finished? Would it bother to wait around long enough for Logan to complete his depiction, or would Logan be sent down its ravenous throat at the first sign of an appetite?

“What’s your name?”

Logan blinked, stumbling out of his thought process. “...pardon?” The question felt far too mundane considering the circumstances.

“Humans have names, don’t they?” The naga tilted its head. “What’s yours?”

Logan was still perplexed that it had thought to ask. “Logan. Logan Sanders.” 

The naga nodded, giving him a smile that might have been intended to be encouraging. 

“...and what is your name?” Logan asked finally, realizing that’s what it wanted.

“You may call me Roman.” The naga- er, Roman- introduced himself, accompanying the statement with a little wave of his hand and a half bow.

Under normal circumstances, Logan might be expected to say it was a pleasure to meet Roman. “Stop moving.” Logan reminded him instead.

“Well aren’t you a barrel of fun, Logan.” Roman paused, rolling the name around on his tongue as he tried it out. “Logan. Looooogan. Logan! You know, once you get used to it it’s not all that terrible.” 

Logan paused, once again feeling utterly perplexed as he peered up at Roman. “My name differs from yours in only three letters.”

“And what difference those three letters make.” Roman breathed an imaginary sigh of relief. He teasingly grinned at Logan. “Oh come now, I jest, live a little, Lo!” 

“My name is Logan, not Lo.” Logan corrected immediately, loathing when individuals shortened his name. Roman snorted. “What’s so amusing?”

“I just realized my choice of phrasing.” Roman’s grin turned sly. “‘Live a little,’ and you are also yourself little- should be quite easy then, eh?”

Logan refused to acknowledge the jab for several moments, eventually caving with the urge to defend himself. “I am above average height for a human being, actually.” Logan felt the need to inform him. 

“Well good for you.” Roman teased, and all of a sudden one of his knuckles was ruffling Logan’s hair. It startled the human enough to make him take a step back, pausing his work to readjust his appearance. The naga seemed to be finished toying with him, for now, and allowed Logan to fall back into the quiet lapse of his work. Unfortunately, with the naga’s round of questioning, Logan found his thoughts drifting elsewhere until he felt compelled to ask a few questions of his own.

“Why did you inquire about my name?” Logan asked, knowing he was venturing down a dangerous topic bringing up his own future. “It seems a bit sadistic to ask if you intend to… if you have ill intentions for myself.” 

It was a bold risk, but Logan was curious if perhaps this was similar to the phenomenon of humans becoming attached to animals after naming them. If Logan could market himself in just the right way, perhaps the naga would be more taken with the novelty of his artistic talents and find he was a valuable enough individual to not end his days within Roman’s stomach.

“Hmm, I like to know.” The naga’s noncommittal shrug squashed the hopes right out of Logan. “Speaking of, are you done yet?”

Logan’s blood ran cold. “Ah, no, not quite yet.”

“Hurry up, I’m growing famished.” Roman groaned, not encouraging Logan to hurry up in the slightest. “You take much longer and I’ll just have to settle for you.”

“Settle?” Logan refused to let himself perk up too much at the peculiar word choice. “So you’re...not going to….?”

Roman laughed as if Logan was a fool. “Oh please, you’d hardly be filling. I feast on Chimeras, you’re nothing.”

Logan had never felt more elated to be told he was nothing.

“A snack, perhaps.” Roman gave him a pointed look. “A tasty one at that, if you don’t get a move on. So chip-chop, Mini Muse.”

“A muse is a source of inspiration, not the craftsman.” Logan corrected, hurrying up all the same. His heart had begun to pound with a mixture of excitement and nerves. “There, it’s finished.”

“Oh do let me see.” With a great amount of slithering the massive tail began to unravel, curling around Logan as it stretched out. Before Logan could be constricted amongst the coils Roman reached down and once again scooped up the human. Logan lost his balance briefly, settling into a safe sitting position before presenting the journal to be viewed. “Why, it’s gorgeous!”

“I’m certainly grateful it’s to your liking.” Logan conceded. He never looked at his drawings with an artistic eye, focused solely on being anatomically correct for his diagrams. 

“Oh indeed, it’s amazing you can make out all my tiny features.” Roman squinted down at the paper. “A shame your works are so small, I wish to appreciate them more. You’re so fortunate to be graced with the real thing.”

“Indeed.” Logan deadpanned. He glanced at the sky, noticing the sun beginning to sink lower in the horizon. “It appears to be getting late, and I’ve likely wasted enough of your precious time. I’m certain you have several tasks which you must complete, so if you’ll just set me down-”

“Set you down?” Roman raised an eyebrow. “Why Logan, I think you and I have different ideas of how this evening will go.”

This was all the warning Logan got before Roman lunged, and a sharp pain shooting up Logan’s side. Logan hissed, completely in shock as his tense form attempted to process what just happened. His mouth gaped open, stuttering as he tried to react to the situation even as his mind clogged up.

“Shh.” Roman’s rumbling voice was right in his ear, the sound all encompassing as Logan’s vision blurred. The last thing he was aware of was Roman murmuring for him to “-just give in.”

[thevoidofshitposts]

Theory: Lucifer knows the Light rings location.

We know from the Opening of act 2 (ch20+) that something Clearly goes wrong with the ritual Solomons currently working on (almost too excitedly)  or Solomon is going to try to Force Mc,or Mc has to, to do something with the night dagger that involves stabbing “Him” (reaper probably).  Solomon is the only other person other then the reaper that can use the dagger according to what we learned in this chapter so why would he be handing it to the MC ? 

But I don't think the Ring would be teased like that for no reason. Also Solomon has a ring just like it which is interesting but not as important atm. The light ring fell with Lucifer and was “lost” during the celestial war, meaning it could be picked up. Simeon goes awful quiet when Its brought up and the texts we are presented with even some what support the idea that there is clearly something going on around that is not quite right due to the amount of research Solomons doing. 

Before he was interrupted Simeon looks shook. But Thats besides the point. After Its brought up he has nothing to say at all. You think the guy who was lucifers former best friend would have commentary? Lucifer’s amnesia came on in such a way where he has some memories, just no context for them, also we are seeing the lucIfer That is like how he was when he was an Angel :. Meaning he may be able to think things out from back then and be able to recover the ring in this state. 

Barbatos makes a comment to Lucifer to the effect of who’s side will you pick in previous chapters. This seems unnecessary now with the current developments seems a bit off, unless Lucifer remembers something when his memory comes back he was not meant to or angle like Lucifer starts being a pain and starts rebellion #2. This verson of Lucifer seems salty and kind of adorkable and would and HAS fought people in the past. He still rembers some of himself but not much, i think he will recover some memories about lillith and then the ring possibly. 

Cause...the devs like to rip our hearts out like the pact severing this isn't giving me enough anxiety Im gonna rage quit possibly if they go through with that for a while if that's the case cause my heart can't take it.

Its the only explanation i can come up with. They were kinda casting Solomon as the villian for a while with the whole sketchy thing and him getting jealous over our Lucifer pact at one point around lesson 16 but he seems like he's actually trying to help? 

So the memory loss is either A) a shitty over used plot hole cover so the devs can give us sad things and distraction fluff or B) there for a reason. Hear me out.  I THINK the ring may also be in the reapers hands possibly or recovered by the celestial realm. If Mc’s connection to the “ring” is gone solomon would go back to being the strongest human sorcerer, but I don't think he's going to become a  antagonist sketchy as he is, he's also a soft boi who wants to help\not die by random acts of nature and it is stated that Solomon is only doing this as a last resort basically. So There is that being a thing which sketchy as he is, doesn't seem false.  Diavolo seems like he's feeling super guilty over all this (Barb wants to throw hands with mammon ) and even says there is no other option,  the better option would be to find the ring,  because in a since he gets what he wants the tree rems uniting through mc technically, but Theres no other option they think.... But if Im correct that either the reaper has it ( he's a hoarder from the sounds of it ) or Simeon (surprise bad guy?), or the ring can be recovered. Then barbs comment would make more since.

Now Solomon may also be trying to cut MC off from there power from less pure reasons too, since he seems a little to egar to go through with this plan and is already kinda moving towards it before even TRYING TO FIND THE RING.  Like get a metal detector smh. The fact that THATS the first thing he goes towards in the repers cave is really bad don’t get me wrong, and giving him THE LITTERAL DEMON MURDER WEAPON was really stupid so there could be bad, but so far Solomons playing it like he's helpful. Could be because umm mc is causing world ending like events  but.. Could be wanting to get more power .. Like 72 demons isn't enough but what ever as long as he doesn't try to take advantage of Lucifer or anyone while there in an amnesia like state were good. *eyes on Solomons sketchy ass*

( Even though he may use mc’s power to Kill the reaper and get out of his game thing with it possibly. )

Not sure about hard mode yet haven't seen anything on it but i hope it helps clear something up.  

( Also why is luke looking after a unconscious person hes ten, also I think Lucifer may have given the ring as a parting gift  to someone but in a salty here take your stupid ring sorta way by the current Lucifers salty attitude or something possibly Barbatos knows where it is and we gotta kill Barb or dia or who knows but i have no evidence of that at all my evidence here is craptoo but ive never done a theory thing before so im just spewing thoughts tbh)

[happybeeps-nat]

Finnpoe Week 2020 - day 1: high school AU and/or meet the parents

an event by the lovely @finnpoeevents

Love is Bigger

Finn knew he couldn't ever meet Poe's mother in this life. But, well, this wasn't exactly life, was it?

Rating: teen and up audiences Warning: major character death Words: 2155 Characters: Poe Dameron, Finn (Star Wars), Shara Bey Tags: Meet the Family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Light Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, That's Not How The Force Works, but i dont care, Freeform, Finnpoe week 2020, i swear this is a rather happy fic, Afterlife            

Read on AO3

Black One was burning, smoking, hurtling toward the ground at a speed Finn could not keep up with from where he was watching. But he didn’t need to keep track as he heard Poe through the comm link in his ear, heard Poe’s voice above all the cries and screams and explosions. Poe’s voice overshadowing death around him.

“Finn? Finn, I love you, okay?” the frantic, shaking voice came, anchoring Finn in the present, pulling his attention from the pain that seemed to overtake his whole body. “Finn, you’re okay. I’m sorry I-” Static kept Finn from understanding what Poe said. “- love you.”

“I love you, too, Poe,” Finn rasped.

“You’re okay, Finn. We’re okay, it won’t be long,” Poe promised.

Vaguely, distantly, Finn realised Poe’s voice was wavering, shaking, like he was scared. That made sense, everyone would be scared if they were crashing down to certain death. He didn’t want Poe to be scared, though. He never wanted Poe to be scared. A selfish part of him was glad that they could die together, win this war together, but he still didn’t want Poe to be scared.

“Poe,” he said, rasped, he wasn’t sure he had a voice.

“Yeah? I’m here, buddy.”

Not much longer, Finn thought, as he managed to blink and focus on Black One again.

“Me too,” he said, but again, not much longer. He couldn’t feel his limbs. But the pain was gone. And was his eyesight. He was tired and he couldn’t see, so he closed his eyes. There, much better. Now he could sleep. Finally get some sleep again, he was so tired.

Poe was speaking again, saying something, sounding frantic and breathing fast, too fast, more than Finn. Right, breathing, that was a good idea. But it was hard. Too much effort.

The last thing Finn heard was an explosion that sounded distinctively different to every other crash around him. Accompanied by Poe’s voice. And then complete and utter silence.

*

Finn woke with a gasp. Or he tried to, but his lungs wouldn’t fill with air. Turned out they didn’t need to because he was fine without air. That was curious.

He opened his eyes and saw a world that seemed to be taken out of a children’s book. One that made them believe in a land where only peace existed and everything was made of light. But the light didn’t blind you, it merely showed you the way and that you were welcome to stay.

Never before had he seen such a place. It was… magical. There were trees around him and the grass underneath him was soft but glistening and glittering with silver light. Not golden but silver and green and peaceful.

Still, his first instinct was to mistrust this sudden peacefulness. Where was he, how did he get here? Why did it feel so right to be here? And where was Poe?

Poe. Finn looked down to check for his wounds he knew had to be there, but they weren’t. His clothes were pristine like they never were, there was no time in war for laundry days, but there he was. Clean, unwounded, at ease, only mildly confused because everything within him screamed that this was right, this was real, this was not a dream and he was okay and that this was-

“The Netherworld of the Force,” a voice came from behind him. Finn was on his feet just a second later and turned around to the voice. There was a woman looking at him, giving him a soft smile that seemed vaguely familiar. She was drenched in the silvery-green light of the shining forest and seemed not at all confused about his being here.

“Sorry?”

Her smile got impossibly softer, patient. “That is where we are. Some people call it the afterlife, but this is the name I know.”

“Afterlife,” Finn repeated, thoughts racing in a distinctively slow manner - and how did that work? “That means… I died?”

“You did,” the women said, not at all perturbed by that.

Finn looked around. Surely, if he was here, everyone else must follow soon. But there was no one else around. “Where are the others?” Where is Poe?

Now the woman’s expression turned sad, but no less patient. “I’m sorry, Finn, I don’t know.”

He had so many questions, and with every answer he got, they seemed to double. But the woman… Finn had seen her before, he was absolutely sure, but he could not say where. Or when. Had he killed her once? But then, why would she be smiling? Questions upon questions upon questions. Could you get a headache in the afterlife?

“I’m sorry,” he sighed after a while. “How do you know my name? Is that an afterlife thing or have we met or-” did I kill you after all? Are my questions stupid? Where is Poe?

Her smile widened and she took a step toward him. “Finn. I know you. I felt you. I could not wait to finally meet you.” She took her hands in his and Finn was surprised to find them warm. “You do not know me, though. You know my son, Poe. And my friends and my husband. I am Shara Bey, and I’m really happy to meet you.”

Finn’s eyes widened. Shara Bey? Rebel hero Shara Bey? Poe’s mother?

“You must have so many questions,” she laughed, and it was then that Finn recognised her. The eyes, the smile, the laugh, the confidence with which she carried herself. Her beautiful face and curly hair. This woman could only be Poe’s mother.

Finn didn’t know what to say, so he only squeezed her hands. It was curious to know you could still squeeze hands in the afterlife. Right, death. That happened. Also, yes, you could get a headache in the afterlife.

“Can I hug you?” he asked because usually, he would have gotten a hug from Poe by now with everything going on, but Poe was not here, and this was not usual, and he just really wanted a hug.

Shara smiled at him with a softness in her eyes that Finn had only seen in the way Leia had looked at Poe. Leia - was she here as well? Before he could ask, though, Shara had opened her arms and tugged him in the way Poe had done so often, but this was warmer. Finn knew he had died what felt like ten minutes ago, he was in a world he didn’t know and Poe was not around and he was completely out of his depth here, but still he was not scared. Like there was something in the air, something in the way the light shone around him that told him everything was going to be alright. And then there was Shara’s hug that felt like home and Finn was inclined to actually believe that maybe for once, everything would be alright.

They sat down in the grass because Finn didn’t want to move. He couldn’t possibly understand how this realm worked, but if he was here and Poe had crashed not far from him, there was a small chance Poe could also be here. Not only here in this realm but also here in close proximity.

And if there was one thing Finn did know above all those questions still circling in his head, it was that he did not want to spend eternity in the afterlife without Poe. So they stayed and Shara told him everything she knew about the Netherworld of the Force while Finn watched the air above them move and sparkle with little particles of light.

He found he enjoyed listening to Shara almost as much as he did with Poe. She, too, had a faint Yavinic accent that made her voice melodious and beautiful and really, if he were to spend the rest of time here, at least he had company he enjoyed.

“I am happy my son found you, dear,” Shara said.

Finn was touched by that but the thought of Poe made him look around again and scan the trees made of light again, searching for movement, searching for Poe. Wishing for Poe. “I hope he will again,” he said at last.

Shara smiled. “He will.”

“How do you know?”

“I know my son. He is stubborn and in love. That is a dangerous mix not even the Force can handle. He will find his way to you,” she said with a tone of finality.

And Finn was inclined to believe her. He wanted to believe her.

“Tell me more about my son,” she pleaded and Finn did, for both their sakes. The smile on Shara’s face warmed his heart and he was sure the same smile could be found on his lips as well.

They traded a story for a story, Poe as a toddler for Poe as a mutineer, Poe as a baby for Poe when he first kissed Finn, Poe as a five year-old stubborn saviour of a stray droid for Poe as a reckless, wonderful, heroic pilot saving the day and the Resistance and the Galaxy as per usual.

“He comes just after his mother,” she said with a laugh.

Finn nodded. “That’s what Kes used to say, yeah.”

Shara got quiet then, thoughtful, sad, and Finn wondered what he had said, what he had done wrong. But it was the same kind of thoughtful sadness he had seen in Kes when they talked about Shara. So maybe it was their thing. He was certain that if he had to spend years and years without Poe by his side, he would have that same gaze. And he really didn’t want that to happen.

They spent a few moments in silence then and Finn resorted to watching the air moving above them, not ready to close his eyes against this beautiful world just yet. That was just his luck, because movement caught his eyes, a figure was stumbling their way through the forest, leaning on the trees as they went, confused, disoriented, just on the brink of panic, as it seemed - which was remarkable since Finn didn’t think it possible to experience negative emotions in here.

He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the form that was slowly coming closer, stumbling backwards before taking two steps forward again. The way they carried themselves, the way their hair was mussed and all over the place, the way they seemed to be talking to themselves…

Poe! Before he knew it, Finn got up and ran towards the figure.

“Poe!” he called. The figure turned and looked at Finn, and sure enough, it was Poe.

“Finn,” he breathed, confusion so obvious in his face. His eyes were wide, he was shaking, stumbling, trying to make his way to him.

“I’ve got you,” Finn said, catching him and pulling Poe against himself. Poe was here. Poe was here with him, Poe was safe. Confused, scared, but safe with him. “I’ve got you,” Finn mumbled again, kissing the side of his face.

“Finn,” was all Poe said, burying his face against Finn’s neck and breathing him in. “What- why- How? Where are we? What is happening? I thought you- I- we? I’m… Finn?”

Finn ran a hand through Poe’s hair in a manner that always used to calm both of them down. After a while, Poe stopped trembling and seemed calmer. “Come with me, we will explain everything, okay?”

Poe looked up. “We?”

“Well,” Finn smiled, shy all of a sudden. “I sort of met someone.”

Poe frowned but then his eyes went somewhere over Finn’s shoulder and his eyes widened, his jaw fell in shock and utterly overwhelmed surprise. He took a tentative step forward and then froze, still clinging to Finn’s hand.

“Mama?”

Shara stood there, tears in her eyes, looking at her son with a look in her eyes Finn did not have the words to describe.

“Hello, sunshine,” she said, and before the words were out of her mouth, Poe had let go of Finn’s hand and ran towards her on unsteady but stubborn legs until he could throw her arms around her.

“Hi, mama,” Poe said and didn’t ask any questions for a while, just stood there with his arms wrapped around his mother for the first time since he was a little kid.

Later, much later, though time was not a real concept in this realm, Shara explained them what she knew. Why Poe could possibly be here with them even though he didn’t have the Force.

“The Force likes to bring balance and keep it. It does not separate what belongs together. And you two so clearly do. Not even the Force can separate that.”

She smiled at them and Finn’s heart melted at that, but there was still a hint of sadness there that only disappeared one day when a certain Kes Dameron made his way through the forest.

[mearta]

A Chevalier’s Promise - Chapter 3

Ainchase Ishmael x Ciel (Bluhen/Chevalier)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959063

Fanfiction Summary: To the outside world of Elrios, the Steel Queen and the newly appointed Grand Duke Ishmael have announced their engagement. Many speculate it was love at first sight; in reality, they have merely forged a political alliance to stabilize their respective reigns. Ciel, aside from his typical obligations as Her Majesty’s knight, must ensure things go smoothly with the alliance. Yet upon meeting a peculiar fellow, he soon realizes the troubles surrounding the Grand Duke are more than they appear.

The countryside strolled past them as the horses walked along the old path. The last time Ciel saw a normal tree was years ago. The vegetation in the Demon Realm delved into shades of blue, purple, but never green. Alas, the atmosphere inside the carriage was less than desirable. Sir Bluhen sat across from Ciel. Meanwhile, Lu and the Grand Duke shared the carriage in front of theirs.

“Have I caught your eye?” Sir Bluhen smirked as he continued to gaze out from the small window.

“Why did you insist on this arrangement?”

“I think you’re quite special,” Sir Bluhen said.

“What do you mean?”

“I like you. A lot.” He turned to face Ciel and crossed his legs. “By the way, please call me Ainchase from now on. Ain is also fine.”

“...A fake name?”

“Bluhen is an alias.” Sir Ain chuckled. “I also don’t need even more strange looks from the priestesses.

“I see.”

“You’ve heard about the assassins from Richter, right? That’s where you come in. Your qualifications are quite good.”

“There must be a reason for not using one of your people to-“

“With the... enemy around, we have to resort to our own methods.”

Ciel raised an eyebrow. Sir Ainchase leaned back, smiling at Ciel’s expression.

“Regardless, we’ll be seeing each other more often.”

Ciel sighed before returning his attention to the outside.

***

In the textbooks, the capital city was drawn as a solemn figure, standing like a picturesque relic of history. As they neared the entrance, the landscape warped and proved those textbooks were incorrect. The supposed white walls, tall buildings, and a single tower were nowhere in sight. Instead, a strangeness encroached; part of the brilliant blue sky turned into something akin to peeling paint. Beneath such was a mixture of purple and black. The wrongness was neither a darkness, nor something Ciel saw from the Demon Realm.

“So you see it,” Sir Ainchase said. “That is the result of the enemy’s movements.”

“Surely you must have a good explanation.”

“Reality, space itself really, has been changed into a troublesome obstacle. Perhaps corrupted is a better word.”

“Then how will we pass through? Will we need to eventually fight this corruption?”

Sir Ainchase shook his head. “Hopefully, we can avoid such a situation. As for the former, just watch.”

Both carriages were brought to a halt; Ciel looked out the window. They were at the edge of a barrier made from distorted space. He heard of it before in the reports, but the spies still managed to infiltrate and gather intel. One of them even mapped out the possible entrances. Their current location, however, was not one of those supposed areas. The Grand Duke left his carriage and approached the barrier. Stopping before it, he raised his hand. A white, glass-like sword began to form. The sword’s elegance and distinct shape was unlike any blade Ciel had seen with his own eyes. With the blade, the Grand Duke cleaved the barrier. It cut through the warped space and created a passageway. The weapon dissipated, and he returned to his carriage.

“It’s a shame he has to do that every time,” Sir Ainchase commented.

Once the second carriage passed through, the space bended to seal the hole.

In the growing silence, Ciel recalled a previous conversation with Lu. It was one of their many discussions of how Grand Duke Richter was able to take control of the duchy. They had heard he owned a particular weapon: Fünft · Glänzendes Schwert, the Shining Fifth Sword. Its original wielder was a minor god who directly served Goddess Ishmael. To their dismay, the records only mentioned this minor god as the Divine Executor.

“Divine right certainly persuades a lot of people,” Lu had mused, setting aside her teacup. “Hence why Timoria’s backing from Angra Mainyu was used as a reason against my claim to the throne.”

Ciel skimmed the excerpt written on the document again. “‘I am the Judge who stands in the full light of Ishmael’s providence. To impose the Goddess’s will is my duty. Come forth, Fünft · Glänzendes Schwert,’” he read aloud.

Lu giggled. “How dramatic. Yet supposing such a thing does exist, I wonder how it shall do against our Sefirot Phantasma.”

“I shudder at the amount of cleanup I would have to do,” he had muttered.

Now, the two men regrouped with the Grand Duke and Lu. She flapped her wings and began to float off the ground.

“Is that how you will greet the priestesses?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear anything, Grand Duke.”

Ciel swallowed his exasperation. “Your Majesty, please return to His Grace’s side. I doubt a lover’s quarrel will get us anywhere.”

She realized what he meant, scowled, then landed next to the Grand Duke. Lu held out her hand to him.

“Dear, may I ask you to be my escort for today?”

“I understand.” He took her hand in his own.

Sir Ainchase cleared his throat. “You two deal with the priestesses. Sir Ciel and I have our own date to do.”

He dragged Ciel in another direction, waving goodbye to the Grand Duke and Lu. Before Ciel could ask anything, Sir Ainchase began to explain the history of the duchy and various buildings. He pointed out services such as the alchemist, the blacksmith, an accessory shop. Ciel was thankful Sir Ainchase let go of his arm while they strolled. The marble statues, the canals, the gilded accents on the architecture were intricate. It had its charm, but Ciel preferred the Demon Realm or Lanox. The latter was a faded memory from his childhood, but he could never forget the smell of smoke or the crackling fires from the forges. He, Abysser, and Anular planned to visit that place again but never could set aside the time.

“...Sir Ciel?”

Ciel blinked, seeing Sir Ainchase’s perplexed look. “My apologies. What were you saying?”

“Would you like to see the Giant El?”

They had stopped at the entrance of the El Tower. The spies’ report mentioned a giant rock housed in the interior of this facility. Ciel scanned his surroundings. There was a lack of knights and servants even.

“For something so important, should you not have more personnel?”

“Unfortunately, I am the personnel. Don’t worry, the priestesses also have a duty of guarding the Giant El if I’m away.”

As they entered, a hooded figure was there to greet them. Dressed in golden and aquamarine garments, she bowed before Sir Ainchase.

“Welcome back.” Her voice was gentle like a flowing spring.

“Is everything going well, Lady Sasha?”

She nodded. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Who is this?”

Ciel bowed. “My name is Ciel, servant to Queen Luciela R. Sourcream.”

Sasha frowned when he said Lu’s name.

“Her Majesty is with Richter right now. Why don’t you meet them since I’m here now?” Sir Ainchase winked.

“All right. Please, excuse me.” She rushed off before casting another look at Ciel.

“Does she not like Demons?”

“I don’t know. Now then, this way.”

Ciel followed him, and several corridors later, they arrived in a single room. In the center was the Giant El. The crystal sat upon a floating pedestal-like object, surrounded by winged statues. A teal-whitish glow emanated from the Giant El; the color was similar to the Grand Duke’s hair.

Sir Ainchase gazed at the El. “I’m still in disbelief that Richter and I are still here.”

“How so?”

“Restoring the Giant El should have killed us. But as you can see, we’re still here.”

“If you do not mind me asking then, who or what saved you?”

“The Holy Creator, Elria. In exchange, I am his servant now.” Sir Ainchase shrugged. “Richter can enforce the Goddess’s will in my stead.” He turned his attention back to the El; the smile on his face did not quite reach his eyes. The beginning of a palpable solemness emerged from his shadow. 

“I see. Your gods are quite different from those in the Demon Realm.”

“...Let’s talk about your actual duties here. Formally speaking, you are Richter’s bodyguard. So when needed, you’ll be by his side. No different than protecting Her Majesty.” He paused. “Otherwise, you’ll act as an assistant to his advisor. His advisor, of course, being me.”

“I suppose we can figure out a schedule.”

“Right. So, our first mission. Since there’s only me, Richter, and the priestesses, we’re limited in terms of who can go where, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I’m quite concerned about the… lack of servants and guards.”

Sir Ainchase waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. “We don’t need more of them. What we need are the El Masters, the humans who should be actually guarding the Giant El.”

“I don’t think I can be of much help in training El Masters.”

“Oh, no, no, no. We’re going to be finding the El Masters.”

[frickfracksnatchisback]

Craving Soul Food

This is the “snippet” I’ve been working on! (It turned into like 10 pages which is just typical of me) The whole premise is that Snatcher’s hungry and he tries to get some food. Funny shenanigans happen and soul eating is weird. Hope you enjoy!

***

As Snatcher stood at his full height the owl beneath him cowered in fear. It’s small, feathery body shook like a leaf as blue fire erupted in a circle around it. The fire was a bit unnecessary, Snatcher thought to himself, but it added way more dramatic effect. Not to mention it made the owl’s pleads for mercy much more entertaining!

“P-please! I swear I’ll never come back ever again!” it whimpered as the fire grew taller around it.

“Sorry, a deal’s a deal! Besides, you didn’t really think I was going to let you go did you?” Snatcher cackled, delighting in the owl’s dread and fear. “This is MY FOREST, MY TERRITORY, AND MY RULES! If you thought you were going to get out alive you’re a FOOL!” He yelled, his voice making the owl tighten into a quivering mess on the ground.

“But...but I’ve never done anything wrong!” the owl begged again.

“Oh I know that, I know that all too well.” Snatcher said as his expression quickly changed from happy to annoyed. “But the innocent get no say in the matter, we all die eventually.” his voice was sinister and bitter, as if the owl’s words offended him. “Whether by natural means or…by force, we all meet our cruel end at some point.” Snatcher grumbled, his mind trailing off to other things. A certain time to be precise. A time were things were so pleasant and simple...

The owl looked up at him, confused as to why it wasn’t dead yet.

“Anyways” Snatcher said as he cleared his throat. “Where was I? Oh yes! I was going to get to killing you and devouring your soul!” he continued as his grin grew wider. The owl screamed and started to sob uncontrollably. And before the owl could make another attempt to feebly beg for its life, Snatcher snapped his claws prominently.  A bolt of purple lightening struck the poor bird, the deed was done.

The nightmare realm dissolved around Snatcher and the lifeless body of the dead owl. Snatcher clapped his hands together and rubbed them in anticipation. I had been awhile since he had a good meal, and he was starving! People didn’t come to visit his forest too often, probably because it was the most haunted place on the planet. But that also meant that food was scarce and Snatcher was dying (haha) to get some souls in him.

“C’mon, c’mon! Any minute now...” Snatcher watched the owl’s body with unbridled anticipation. And, as if on cue, a bright flash of light erupted from the owl’s body. The soul was beginning to take shape, Snatcher could barely control himself. His eyes widened with glee as out of the owl’s body floated-

A disappointment.

Snatcher’s grin fell swiftly as the soul of the owl floated up a measly few inches. The soul was a cold, unforgiving, light gray. A shade gray that felt like a smack in the face to him. The soul’s face was depressed with the movements to match. It simply floated in spot, not caring enough to even test its boundaries.

“Noooooo...” Snatcher whined as his arms fell to his sides. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” he groaned as the owl’s soul looked back at him pitifully. Snatcher grabbed the soul by the tail, it didn’t even seem to struggle. He lifted the soul up until the two were face-to-face with each other. “You’re absolutely useless, you know that?” he growled at it. The soul kept quiet, not like it was able to respond anyways. “I suppose you do.” Snatcher answered for it, utterly disgraced at what he was dealing with.

Souls were fickle things, this much Snatcher knew. They came in all sorts of different shapes, sizes, even flavors. They were what made a person, but that didn’t mean they were said person. They were more like...memories. Bits and pieces of a person’s life glued together into one, small ball of power. And, depending on who you were in a past life, your soul would vary. And if you so happened to meet a tragic enough fate, your soul could manifest and come back as a spirit. A completely new being stuck with the memories of their past life and an infinite lifespan. Which, in hindsight, sounds pretty bad when you think about it for too long. But you get used to it.

That wasn’t true for most souls, though.

Other people, who weren’t as lucky, would simply have their souls float out of their body with no where to go. They had no body to control anymore, which made the outside world very disorienting. And they couldn’t do anything that a ghost could since they weren’t powerful enough to come back as one. Usually a normal soul would act like a whole different creature. Floating in every direction, spinning in circles, wailing like baby separated from its mother. It was a rather entertaining sight to watch!

But not this time, unfortunately.

Snatcher rolled the soul over in the palm of his hand. It didn’t even let out so much as a peep as he squeezed it with his claws. “You couldn’t have been at least a tint of blue?” he said rather forlornly. Blues souls were that of pure-hearted people, people who only did good deeds in life. They were hard to come by, not many people were born innocent after all. But they tasted sweet like the mortal equivalent of candy. He didn’t really have a sweet tooth at the moment, but it would be better than this sad thing. Maybe this soul was just a very light shade of blue and he didn’t notice?

He looked the soul over again, hoping he was wrong about its color. Nope, it was still gray. He flicked the soul out of his hand. It shot away, held itself in the air for a little bit, and sunk down.  He grabbed the soul back, and squeezed it again in spite. He then sighed the heaviest of sighs, looked like this was all he was getting for now. How could it have come to this of all things?

“Pathetic, really. Were you that boring of an owl?” he asked it one last question. It continued to stare back at him with a look of Please eat me already. “Fine, I get it. We all have to eat eventually, I guess.” he droned on before reluctantly opening his mouth. He hesitated before popping the soul inside, wanting to get it over with quickly. He swallowed fast, the soul sliding down his throat with ease. He gulped it down and stuck out his tongue in disgust.

“Yuck.” he said with his tongue still out, he didn’t expect it to taste that bad. The taste of souls were hard to describe by humans. But if he had to describe this soul’s taste? It was defiantly bland, like a cracker without salt. Souls would at least give him a surge of power afterwards, this one didn’t even have an ounce. But food was food, not like he had much of a choice anyways.

“Well that was absolutely revolting.” he said plainly, still trying to get the taste of of his mouth. He looked back down at the dead owl. “Eh, the minions will take care of it.” he reassured himself and began to float away to some other place. He didn’t really care about where he was heading in his forest. Just anywhere away from that failure of a “meal”.

A low growl stopped Snatcher dead in his tracks. He frantically looked around for any attackers. “Who’s there?” he demanded, immediately summoning blue fire magic from his hands. He scanned the area, being wary of anything that might pounce at him from the trees. Being a shadow helped tremendously, his vision was razor-sharp when it came to the dark.

“I swear if it’s one of you little gremlins...” he grumbled under his breath. But he couldn’t see anything except the trees. There were no minions hiding in the bushes, check. No spiders hanging down from the trees, double check. And not a pair glowing yellow eyes in sight. Well, except his own that is. He squinted his eyes just in case there might be... Nope, not even a pair of glowing red eyes. At least that was quite relieving to know. Snatcher’s magic fire died down and, after a few more minutes of looking around, he turned to leave again.

He heard the growling again, much louder this time. He whipped back around, a stern expression on his face. “Okay, I know I heard that.” he said. “Listen, I’m not here to play games. Come out from wherever you hiding and maybe, just maybe, I’ll make your death less painful.” he smiled evilly as his eyes darted back and forth between the trees. He really wasn’t in the mood for this. After that little “snack”, if one could even call it that, he was in a particularly foul mood. Not to mention he was starting to get a headache and his sides were killing him for some reason. Probably because he was still sleeping in that old armchair-

The growling came back again, this time Snatcher knew what is was. He held his sides in pain as his stomach continued to growl loudly. He felt unbelievably hungry, even more than he did before. “Well that figures.” he said as his stomach finally calmed itself. “I guess I need more than a ‘snack’ to satisfy me, huh?” he said to himself. “Hmm, I’m craving something but I just can’t think of it. And it’s at the tip of my tongue as well...” he pondered as he tapped his claws against his teeth. “Ugh, it’s like I can taste it but I don’t even know what ‘it’ is!” he huffed.

Snatcher realized he was biting his claws.

“Wait a minute...no.” he said as he finally it figured out. “NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!” he shouted and shook his head relentlessly. “I’m not going to, I swore I wasn’t going to! T-there has to be something else!” he said and quickly took to sky.

He soared past the dark, swirling clouds of Subcon’s sky at a frightening speed. The sliver moonlight shone down on him and the stars twinkled in the night. It was absolutely breath-taking, but Snatcher didn’t have time to take the sights in. He was too busy looking for something, anything to have for a meal. Lest he resort to- No! Best not to even think about going there. There had to be at least one poor victim who had gotten stuck in one of his traps again.

He stopped mid-air as he noticed something strange happening below. There were spiders...a whole group of them. They were circling around something, climbing on top of one another in a cluster. He couldn’t see what they were fighting over, they were all blocking his view. As he came closer he could hear the collective scuttling of spider legs. And...chewing noises? Huh, sounded like the spiders were eating something they had managed to catch for themselves. They were defiantly doing better at getting a meal than he was.

Wait a minute...WAS THAT ONE OF HIS TRAPS?!

Snatcher growled in anger as he noticed the broken trap next to the feeding spiders. There was nothing left but a heap of smashed parts on the ground. He was infuriated, he had spent so much time putting that one up! Did they just forget who’s forest this was and who made the rules here? If so, they we about to get one heck of a reminder from him. He landed on the ground, ready to knock some sense into those bug-brains.

“ALRIGHT, PARTY’S OVER!” He spoke up, alerting the spiders to his presence. The spiders turned and hissed at him, angry that their meal had been interrupted. He quickly ignited his hands, this was going to get messy. “Did one of you pests do this?! WHO BROKE MY TRAP?!” he yelled, pointing at the trap in question. The spiders glanced at one another, as if they were trying to put the blame on one of their own. “You know what?! ALL OF YOU ARE DEAD ONCE I’M THROUGH WITH YOU!” he yelled in rage and began to attack the group of spiders.

It was not a pretty sight. Spiders were running in every direction, blue potions were falling and exploding on the ground, and fire was spreading everywhere. Snatcher was burning spiders left and right without any hesitation. They had made him extremely angry and he wasn’t planning on stopping until every spider was dead or he tired himself out. But it didn’t take long before the spiders had either retreated or were nothing but a pile of ashes. The area was a total mess before he finally managed to stop attacking.

“AND STAY OUT!” Snatcher screamed before stopping to catch his breath. He huffed and puffed, feeling absolutely drained of energy. No surprise there, he wasn’t getting his daily dosage of souls in him. And no souls meant less power, and less power meant he would tire very easily. He took a moment to investigate the spot where the spiders had been feasting. There was barely anything left except for a few wet patches on the ground, a few human bones, and some scraps of blue fabric here and there. The fabric was also attached to a few branches on the tree directly in front of him. Striped, blue fabric that looked oddly familiar…

Snatcher froze as he noticed the soul of a Mafia man was hiding from inside the tree-hole.

He dared not to move a muscle as the soul slowly floated out from its hiding. It was a deep, dark gray with piercing red eyes. It looked around and floated here and there, checking to see if the cost was clear. Once it felt safer it began to float closer to the ground, making unintelligible noises as it moved around aimlessly.

This one looked like a much more promising meal. Dark gray souls were that of bad people, much better than the light gray ones. Whatever this Mafia man had done in his life, he had been one tough guy. Not to mention he looked...and smelled delicious. Snatcher’s eyes were locked onto the soul’s movement, like a predator watching its prey. His mouth was watering as he slowly raised his claws up. The soul hadn’t noticed him yet, which gave him the perfect opportunity to attack.

“GIMME!” he yelled as he lunged forward and clamped his claws around the unsuspecting soul. He grinned mischievously as he slowly opened his hands to reveal his catch. But when he opened his hands, there was no soul. He frantically looked around to see where it had gone.

The soul was already flying away from him.

“Wh-WAIT! COME BACK!” he yelled and quickly gave chase. The soul looked back, shrieked in fear, and flew away faster. The two dashed through the forest, ducking and weaving past the trees of the forest. Snatcher was having trouble keeping up with it, the soul getting faster and faster the farther they went. But as low as his strength was, his hunger was much stronger. He felt like he could almost taste sweet victory as he hunted it down. His stomach was growling angrily as he came closer, and closer, and-

Throughout all the chaos, Snatcher noticed that the two were heading towards the swamp.

“NO! No no no-” Snatcher repeated as he quickly tried to catch the soul. He tried grabbing for it, but all he caught was air. He pushed himself to go faster before it reached the outskirts of the swamp. If it got anywhere closer to that place, all hope would be lost. He was right behind it, the soul screaming as it zipped through the air. He reached farther, stretching his hand out to where he could almost-

Snatcher went face-first into a tree as the soul made a sharp turn to the right. He stood stiff for a moment before sliding off the tree and falling flat on the ground. His eyes where dizzy swirls and he could almost see stars. Or where those souls? He groaned as he stood up and rubbed the top of his head.

“Ow...” he said as he shook his head, getting the twigs and leaves out of his hair. He then remembered the soul he was chasing after and scrambled back up. He looked left and right for it, he had lost track of the darn thing. He flew past a few of the trees, this time being careful enough not to bump into them. He did, however, whiz past a group of his minions playing a card game. His speed interrupted them as the wind caused the cards to go flying in every direction. Snatcher could’ve of cared less as he immediately saw the soul floating towards the swamp.

Snatcher watched, horrified, as a giant purple hand raised itself from the murky swamp water. He could do nothing as the hand grabbed the soul out of the air and sunk back down into the depths below. A few large bubbles came up to the surface and popped with a sickening noise. His face was grim as stood he there with his arms hanging limp at his sides. That was his only chance of getting a meal, and now it was drowning in that wretched swamp.

“Hey Boss? Are you…okay?” a voice asked from behind him. It was one of his minions, specifically the one that was part of the card playing group. The rest of the group was farther behind, watching from behind the trees or in bushes. “B-boss? You there?” the minion asked again, keeping their distance. Snatcher was silent, his eyes glued to the spot were the soul had been dragged down. He clenched his fists and started to shake in anger. The minion quickly noticed this, and ran for cover. When the boss blew up, he really blew up.

“AAAUGH!” Snatcher screamed out in anguish. His voiced ran throughout the forest causing the trees to shake and scaring off a flock of birds. Fire magic seems to erupt from his hands, his face, his hair, every part of his body was on fire. “WHY?! WHY DO I NEVER GET SO MUCH AS A MORSEL WHEN I NEED IT?!” he raged, tugging on his hair tussles. “EVERY! SINGLE! PECKING! TIME!” he shouted, throwing the worst fit any of his minions had ever seen. He picked up a boulder from the ground and, with great strength, launched it into the swamp lake. It made a huge splash that reached a few feet in the air. The swamp water made terrible screeches and a few hands were crushed by the weight of the boulder.

“OH YEAH?! YOU DON’T LIKE IT DO YOU?! WELL TOO BAD!” he screamed back at the swamp before finally managing to calm himself. The minions, a few Dwellers, and even a handful of Fire Spirits had all gathered to watch the whole tantrum unfold. One incredibly brave minion stepped away from the group and went up to Snatcher. He still had his back turned to the ghosts behind him and was giving death glares to the swamp.

“U-um, Boss?” the minion plucked up the courage to ask.

“WHAT?!” he whipped around to yell at the poor minion. It cowered in fear, it’s legs shaking and shuddering.

“Y-your on f-f-fire Boss!” it stuttered. Snatcher stopped, noticed he was on fire, and let out a hefty sigh. And with that his whole body seem to put itself out. Smoke came off of him as he patted down the small flames on his hair. He was completely unharmed, of course. Fire magic wouldn’t burn or scar him so he was perfectly safe. However, it was still a dangerously bad habit he had picked up while using his magical attacks. Snatcher looked up to see all his subjects looking back at him.

“What are you all staring at?! GO ON, SHOO! GET BACK TO WORK!” he ordered his subjects. The whole group split up in a frenzy, bumping into each other as they all ran back to their posts. Snatcher huffed, he had never been more fed up than he was right now. Lucky for him though, he was rather close to his home. However, that didn’t stop him from grumbling all the way to his tree-home.

“One soul. Just one soul. That’s all I ask for really.” he complained as he as he marched on through the entrance. “I work hard setting up my traps, making my contracts, I rule this whole forest for pity’s sake!” he kept on, flying over the pond of water surrounding his home. “But do I get a soul? Noooooo! I get to sit here and starve while fate throws every little inconvenience at me and drives me INSANE!” he said as he punched the wall of the tree, making the whole structure shake and rattle. He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and sighed.

“Maybe I just need a rest. I’ve had a long day.” he reasoned, making his way over to his armchair. His stomach protested by tightening itself, making him wince in pain. “Quiet you.” he said as he squeezed his sides. He looked around his home for something to distract him from the pain. His eyes darted to the grandfather clock, the table, the carpet, the closet.

The closet...

His eyes stayed on the closet for a few minutes. There was something stored in there...something he had been saving for a long time. Something he had recalled craving a few moments ago. Something full of power and energy. Something delicious...delectable...scrumptious...savory! He found himself moving away from the armchair and closer to the closet, as if he was hypnotized. He raised up a clawed hand and was reaching for the handle. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if he had just a little bite-

“No! Get a hold of yourself!” he snapped out of it and quickly grabbed his own hand before it could get any closer. “I promised myself I was going to save it. I’m not going back on that promise now!” he scolded himself, turning away from the closet and heading towards his armchair.  “I’ll simply sleep through this hunger, I’ll forget about it!” he said as he plopped into his armchair. He conjured up a fluffy blanket to wrap around himself and a small pillow that fell into his lap. He shifted in his covers until he felt comfy and hugged his pillow close to him. He took one last looking glance at the closet.

“I’m not going to open it.” he said to himself, hugging the pillow tighter and cuddling his face against it. “I’m not going to open it. I can do this.” his eyes grew heavy as he repeated himself. “I’m not...going to.” his body started to relax as he let out a big yawn. “I’m...not...going...to...” he murmured, closing his eyes. And with that, he fell asleep in no time. His breathing was calm and steady, with a few quiet snores here and there. The tired soul-stealing spirit could finally get some needed rest.

***

He laid on the ground as he looked up at the starry sky. The cool breeze made the leaves of the purple trees fall swiftly and the soothing sounds of nightfall were all around him. He smiled and sighed happily as he rested with his hands tucked behind his head. This was the life! No worries, no work to do, no annoyances to ruin his day. It was a nice change of pace for once.

But what the heck was he doing out here?

“Huh, how did I get out here again?” he said as he slowly sat himself up. Wasn’t he in his home a few seconds ago? How did he get all the way out here? And where was “here” anyways? It felt like his forest but...calmer. There were no minions, Dwellers, Fire Spirits, not even a single spider! It was actually rather nice...but also alarming. Where had they all gone to? “Oh, well. I suppose I should go looking for them.” he reasoned as he stood himself up and dusted himself off.

Snatcher perked up as he heard a noise close to him. A pair of bushes shook and rustled in front of him. A blue soul popped out of the bushes, spinning in circles as it tried to get its bearings. It steadied itself, shaking off the leaves it was covered in. It looked around before it saw Snatcher and cocked its head in curiosity. He looked back at the soul and smiled.

And then licked his lips.

The soul’s eyes widened as it let out a small whimper. Snatcher straightened himself up, towering over the little soul. The soul shook in fear, he delighted in its look of despair. He leaned closer to the soul with his claws stretched out above his head. He glared at the soul, grinning maniacally.

“Boo.”

The soul screamed and quickly flew away. But Snatcher wasn’t upset, he knew he would be able catch it this time. He laughed as he chased after the soul. The area was much clearer this time, giving him the upper hand in this deadly game of cat-and-mouse.  His smile grew wider as the soul kept looking back and panicking as he came closer. He snapped his teeth awfully close to intimidate it, and he was not disappointed with its reactions. This was almost too easy!

He decided to slow down a bit to give the soul a fighting chance. He wanted to give it hope before he snagged it for himself. The soul kept going, not daring to look back this time. It ran past the trees and dived into a large pile of bushes to hide. He stopped where he was and looked at the soul’s hiding spot, highly amused.

“Oh no! I lost it! I wonder where it could be?” he said sarcastically. The pile of bushes shook violently, he chuckled to himself. “Come out, come out wherever you are! I just want a small bite...or maybe two!” he said before bursting into laughter. He creeped closer and closer to the bush, readying himself to catch the soul. “Oh, What’s this? Are you hiding in here?” he grinned as he laid his hands on the bush, ready to expose his prey. “AHA!” he shouted as he pushed the bush apart. But their was no soul in sight. He stared at the spot, puzzled. He crawled inside the bush, perhaps it was deeper in? He squeezed past the leaves until he came out onto the other side.

Snatcher’s jaw dropped as he looked up.

Standing before him was the largest soul he had ever seen, even bigger than him! It was a bright yellow-gold, shimmering with beauty. Power radiated off of it in waves and wisps of magic emanated from its surface. Snatcher eyes were filled with wonder and amazement. His smiled in awe, he felt like a kid in a candy store. He could barely contain his excitement as he squealed happily.

“Yes! Jackpot! Hahaha!” he thrilled as he jumped into the air. He laughed as he pounced onto the soul and embraced it affectionately. It was surprisingly soft and warm to the touch. He could hear a steady droning noise coming from inside its core, oddly calming in a way. He nuzzled his face against the soul, purring quietly. He rarely ever purred, it was only when he was truly happy. And right now, he was the happiest ghoul on the planet! “Such a wonderful specimen, I’ve never seen something as stunning as you.” he hummed, staring dreamily at his own reflection in the soul’s surface. He started dragging his claws against it, giggling as the soul wailed in pain.

“Well, that’s enough chit chat! I feel positively famished!” he laughed as he rubbed his hands together, ready to sink his teeth in. He made a show of licking both of his fangs and digging his claws deeper into the soul. He opened his mouth wide and chomped down into the soul. He could feel the warmth of the soul in his mouth, like biting into a freshly baked pastry straight from the oven. His mouth watered, but he didn’t care that he was drooling. He was more concentrated on the flavor of that tasty soul!

And it tasted...fluffy?

***

Snatcher snapped awake as he realized he was biting into his pillow. He spat out pieces of cotton and stuck out his tongue. He looked at the pillow, it was absolutely ruined. It was covered in bite and claws marks with cotton sticking out of every tear. Good thing that he wasn’t going to keep that pillow, it was practically tore to shreds. There were also wet spots where he had drooled on the fabric. He then noticed that there was still drool on his mouth and quickly wiped it off.

Snatcher stared at the pillow for a few minutes, and began to rip in into pieces.

Cotton went flying everywhere as he tore it apart with his claws. He was fuming, not to mention embarrassed at himself. He almost ate a pillow...a pillow! He was so delirious with hunger that he was seconds away from swallowing a sack full of cotton! He threw the remains of the pillow onto the floor, the pieces of cotton and fabric all dissipating into puffs of smoke. He tossed the blanket off of him and it did the same as it hit the wall.

“I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I’LL GO MAD IF I DON’T EAT SOMETHING!” he shouted as he got up from his armchair and lunged for the closet. Every part of his brain was telling him not to do this, he was being impulsive! But the more agreeable part said to heck with that! He was too hungry care if he was acting stupid. He swung the closet doors open and began searching for it. After tossing through a few things, he finally managed to find what he was looking for.

He held up a large, glass jar bound with chains and a magic lock. Inside the jar was a light purple soul, bouncing and shaking inside. Purple souls were his favorite type of souls, they were the souls of very powerful people. But they were even rarer to come by than blue souls! And this soul was from the last lackey he had made a contract with. After that man met his...unfortunate end, he put the soul away in the closet to store it. He had been saving it for a special occasion, swearing to himself that he wouldn’t open it until then. Shame it had come to this, but he need food and he needed it now!

He went back to his armchair with the jar in hand. If he was going to eat this soul he was going to be comfy while doing it. He sat down and looked inside the jar, the soul taking one look at him and shrieking in fear. Snatcher was pleased to see that through all this time this soul was still brimming full of energy! He quickly summoned the key to the magic lock and began to unlock it. The chain, lock, and key disappeared in a cloud of magic smoke once he popped the lock open.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this!” Snatcher chuckled as he took the lid off and reached inside for the soul. He grabbed it, it squirming ever so lively in his grasp. As he pulled the soul out its screams became louder and louder. He waved away the jar and it disappeared like the rest. The soul struggled to escape, but he kept his grip tight. He started to play around with it, satisfied by its yelps of pain. He poked it, prodded it, pulled it, pinched it, happily torturing it with his claws.

“I know, I know. It’s a shame I couldn’t save you for later, isn’t it?” he told the soul as it sobbed fearfully. “But what a fine meal you are going to make!” he cackled, licking his sharp fangs and sticking out his tongue. He pinched the soul’s tail, lifting it up closer to his mouth. He opened his mouth wide like a snake, extra teeth growing in next to his fangs. The soul could see his mouth as a large, glowing, bright yellow abyss. It swung left and right, trying to avoid Snatcher’s gaping maw as best it could. But before it could, Snatcher dropped it straight into his mouth.

He quickly closed his mouth shut, the soul’s tail still sticking out from between his fangs. He slurped it up like a noodle and started chewing. He didn’t swallow just yet, he wanted to savor the soul’s taste in his mouth. The soul wriggled and squirmed, trying to escape from its deadly prison. He chomped down on it, feeling the warmth and power of the soul invading his taste buds. He relished the taste for a few moments before finally swallowing it whole.

“Mmmmmm!” he hummed, hugging himself gleefully. His entire body glowed with power as magic emanated off of him. He seem to grow in size, his form pulsing and rippling with power. His form stopped glowing after a few minutes and the wisps of magic died down. He let out a blissful sigh and slid down deep into his armchair. He felt happy, his stomach warm and full of food. He purred lightly, he needed that.

“Ahhh, that hits the spot.” he sighed again, closing his eyes and snuggling deeper into his chair. He felt much better, his strength instantly brought back to normal. He felt like his old self again! Powerful and all mighty, like he should be. He felt like he could fight anyone and beat them without even trying. But for right now, he was more concerned on relaxing after a good meal. “Is there possibly anything better than eating souls?” he asked himself, cuddling the arm of the armchair.

“Well I think it’s a rather barbaric practice.” a strange voice said.

Snatcher eyes were wide open as he shot up from his armchair, as if he was caught doing something shameful. He knew that voice all too well as turned his head towards the back entrance. Standing (well, more like floating) there in the entrance was a red-coated visitor. A very unwelcome visitor who  looked back at him with disgust and judgment. A certain blue skinned ghost whom Snatcher loathed with every passing second.

“Moonjumper...” he hissed, his claws digging into the arms of his armchair. The fancy ghost nodded and smiled back at him.

“Likewise. May I ask what you’re doing here?” he asked, floating inside and picking up a book from the table. “Besides...eating. That much I could tell.” he cringed at the word “eating” before opening the book’s contents. Snatcher glared at him, he absolutely hated it when that corpse came into his home and acted like he owned the place.

“That’s none of your business. Why are you even here?” he groaned, face-palming as Moonjumper started to flip through his book. Moonjumper kept flipping through, as if he didn’t hear him. “AHEM!” Snatcher cleared his throat loudly.

“Hm? Oh sorry, I was busy reading this. I haven’t seen it in ages!” he grinned, making Snatcher glare daggers at him. “Also what do mean ‘why am I here’? You’re telling me you forgot all about the racket you made earlier?” he said, closing the book and setting it back down. Snatcher’s face flushed in embarrassment, recalling his sudden outburst. “Honestly, you can be such a hot-head.” Moonjumper sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“I was hungry, okay?” Snatcher mumbled.

“I don’t understand how you could do something so...grotesque.” Moonjumper said, shuddering.

“Oh yeah? You know what else is grotesque? Your face!” Snatcher retorted, making Moonjumper gasp in offense.

“Oh, that’s very mature of you.” Moonjumper said, appalled.

“Then maybe don’t stalk me while I’m eating you piece of rot.” Snatcher insulted. He then realized something that made his skin crawl. “By the way, how long were you watching me?” he asked worriedly, afraid he might be right.

“Long enough to watch you chew on a pillow.” Moonjumper waved a hand. Snatcher face fell and he covered it to hide his blushing. “By the way, I had no clue that you could purr! It’s rather adorable!” Moonjumper said, snickering. Snatcher stopped covering his face and shook in anger.

“OH YEAH? I’LL SHOW YOU ‘ADORABLE’ WHEN I BURN YOUR FACE OFF!” Snatcher shouted in rage, his hands igniting with fire. Moonjumper stopped smiling and quickly regretted his decision. Uh oh he thought and quickly sprinted out of the tree.

Snatcher chased Moonjumper throughout the whole forest. Moonjumper feared for his life as he barely dodged Snatcher’s fireballs. But thanks to a good meal, Snatcher could keep this up all night!

[trouvelle]

Striking Balance (II) // Emogust 14.08 — Character A protects Character B

A/N: I couldn’t hold back from writing more of this, so here’s part II. Please bear with me! I sincerely hope you like it. And I’d like to apologize in advance if there are some parts that are confusing and not canon to Avatar: The Last Airbender / The Legend of Aang, it’s probably because I made some stuff up in this fic. DCMK Emogust 2019—Character A protects Character B, @mintchocolateleaves @sup-poki !!

The sun is infinitely brighter outside, warming their clammy skins as they walk away from the inn and into the heart of the town. It’s barely past sunrise, but time moves quickly during this time of the year, especially when they’re scouting the location for a missing person.

River Village is lovely and peaceful. Everyone greets each other even when they are all the way across the street, children are running around carefreely without a hint of worry on their faces. It seems like everyone here is on first-name basis. 

This section of the market is probably the most crowded part of the town, Shinichi observes. There are merchants everywhere, selling all kinds of things—there are fruit stalls, jewelry stalls, liquor stalls, and one that catches Shinichi’s eyes is the one with stacks of scrolls displayed on the table. Ran herself can’t hold back from walking toward one of the stalls to get a better look at the robes.

Shinichi doesn’t blame her. They’ve been on the move for a while. They do have extra clothes but Ran is unable to wear most of what she brought from home because the climate is very different in this part of the world.

Kaito has also advised them to ditch their distinctive Water Tribe kimono-like tunics because they attract unnecessary attention, and to start wearing outfits with more of Earth Kingdom’s elemental color in them (It’s green, and Shinichi is not a big fan. “It’s not that I like wearing green either,” Kaito retorts). They do have some coins to spare, so he gives her a nod as a green light for her to purchase something for herself. 

Ran makes her choice rather quickly. She has her eyes on a fairly beautiful piece, with a pale green dress as the under layer and a sleeveless outer tunic in a contrasting dark green. The booth owner is quick to give her the price, and it was a ridiculously high number. Ran, being the sweetest soul, is already reaching into her pocket to pay when Kaito pulls her by the arm.

“You’re gonna overpay for that piece of cotton; you don’t look like you’re from this area. He purposely offered you a higher price and squeezed all the profit he can get.” Kaito clicks his tongue in distaste, after watching the way Ran is about to close the deal on what would have been her new tunic.

“Think about it in a positive way, maybe he has a big family to feed.” Ran, although kind of surprised, is unaffected by his remark. 

Kaito only shakes his head and mouths, “Watch me.”

He makes his way down a few stalls and stops by another one that also sells tunics and other apparels. He picks a set of bright green and yellow bundle, smooths his hand over it back and front to get a feel of its texture, and proceeds to drop the stack of garment on the counter. He sees Ran and Shinichi in the corner of his eyes, watching him as he starts talking to the man at the booth, both of whom ended up chattering animatedly. Kaito then hands half a roll of coins (Ran turns to Shinichi, gobsmacked, “That cheap?”) to the man as his payment. 

If Shinichi isn’t paying close attention, he wouldn’t have caught the tiny, but swift movement of Kaito’s fingers. A gust of wind suddenly blows in the stall owner’s face and he reflexively squeezes his eyes shut. Within that second, Kaito has already had an extra scarf snuck into his other pocket. When the owner has both his eyes opened again, Kaito is already waving him a goodbye, to which he cluelessly waves back.

He skips back to Ran and Shinichi, trying to hold back a smirk on his face, to eagerly show them his achievement. 

“Next time, let me handle our shopping necessities,” Kaito now allows the smirk to consume his face, rubbing his victory.

“How’d you only pay such a small amount? What did you even say to him?” Ran asks, genuinely curious as to how the airbender closed the deal. 

“You just have to be extremely charming when swaying a deal your way.” Kaito doesn’t try at all to hide the smugness in his voice, tossing the two-piece garment and with the addition of a stolen scarf over to Ran. “Consider this my thanks for healing me.”

Shinichi stays silent, as if he’s deeply contemplating the logistics of Kaito’s way. Kaito suddenly gets nervous. 

He is so used to manipulating store owners, coercing them to his benefit, and even goes so far as to steal sometimes. His skillset is what Aoko and him rely on the most, to get through their days. It’s either resorting to his tricks or having no food, nor clothes, nor any place to stay. He wonders where Aoko has been taking shelter for the past few nights. Does she need new clothes after the disaster? Should he get something for her so when he finally finds her, she has something to change into? But if he goes around to steal again with Shinichi and Ran watching him...

Kaito knows the two waterbenders probably think what he does is immoral, but he does it without any regret. 

“We could actually save some money.” Shinichi comments. 

Kaito lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His face breaks out into a large smile. Despite Shinichi’s Mr-Right-attitude, Kaito is starting to respect him. In the past week that they’ve been together, he has learned that Shinichi’s cautiousness has actually done them nothing but good. Kaito has never caught him off-guard, not even once.

So when Shinichi stops in his tracks and doesn’t respond to either Ran or himself, Kaito is sort of amused. They’ve reached the east end of the market. There are no more stalls up ahead, only a marble fountain and what seems like a vast area of woodland behind it. 

“I’ve been here before!” exclaims Shinichi. “It’s been a few years, and I think a huge part of this town has been reconstructed, along with the market. There used to be a dome over there,” He points at the north end of the market, “Maybe it was demolished. But I know that fountain when I see it. And that was an area I frequented as well.” He explains, jerking his chin to the direction of the woods. 

Φ

Young Shinichi loved tagging along with his father. Being one of the Elder Advisors of the Tribal Council meant Yusaku had to do rounds of their whole territory, all the highs and lows of the village. Shinichi made sure he woke up early enough every day to go with his dad on his morning rounds.

His father always had stories to tell him; about why this igloo hut looked different from that one, why the Palace is always glimmering even during cloudy mornings, what the big giant pendants around the necks of some of the older girls are. “They’re betrothal necklaces, Shinichi. It means they’re getting married soon,” explains his father. When he was out to play with Ran later that day, he very enthusiastically told her about the ugly betrothal necklace she eventually had to wear in the future.

It soon became more than just rounds. His father eventually had to sail away twice every month, leaving North Pole for a few days. Shinichi had heard rumors about the possibility of an upcoming war, he should’ve known that his father was one of the few delegates that were tasked to go out there, then come back bearing reports. 

He wanted to go with him, and so he did.

It seemed that the trips his father had gone off to, were to the same town every single time. Shinichi didn’t bother to find out the name of the town, but his father told him that they were in a village in some part of the Earth Kingdom. He was beaming with pride, for certainly no one else around his age had ever been out of the realm of North Pole. He couldn’t wait to go back home to tell all his friends about how he had been to Earth Kingdom. 

When his father was called in for the meeting in the town dome, Shinichi wandered away from center of the town, past the loud voices echoing from the mine, past the small downtown area and shops, past the sporadic houses that dot the outer edges of the town and into the woods.

He ran around and explored as much as he could, anything to make for a great story later back home. He loved the feeling of his feet padding gently on the soft earth floor beneath him. It’s very different from the cold, rock-hard ice that he was used to. There were so so so many trees here in Earth Kingdom, Shinichi thought in glee. 

He came back with his father the following week and then after, and he always made sure that he had enough time to play in the woods. Never had he seen another person in the woods—they were not that deep, but surely confusing, free of trails and pathways that mar their surface (besides the main road going east, but that’s more south than where Shinichi always was), which was why he’s surprised when he chanced upon a monstrous lizard this time.

Shinichi analyzed the creature, a mere few feet away from him. This was a Beaded Basilisk Lizard, if he remembered his father’s words correctly. “Beaded Basilisk Lizards are carnivorous and venomous, and they chew their venom into their prey,” his father told him once.

This lizard stood about four feet taller than him, even if he ran with all his might, it would definitely catch up to him within a few steps. Maybe he could splash some water to the lizard’s eyes and quickly hide from its sight? That will definitely work, he thought, that’s why Dad always makes me carry this water pouch everywhere.

He slowly reached downward to his water pouch, ready to guide the water out... only to find that it’s empty. Dear Holy Spirit of the Ocean and Spirit of the Moon, he grunted inwardly. He totally forgot that he had drunk all his water supply because running around and climbing trees up and down was tiring. Way more tiring than all those waterbending training back home.

A distant sound moving in a pattern toward them caught both his and the lizard’s attention. Shinichi used this chance to hide behind the largest tree within his range. His thoughts raced, but the adrenaline forced to keep him moving. He chanced a peak around the tree. 

Something jumped out of the trees and landed next to the creature. With a loud cry, it—he, Shinichi realized—drew on his sword, slashed the creature on its right leg and quickly ducked to avoid the whipping of its tail. The dark-skinned boy looked no more taller than Shinichi himself, and he was winging a sword half his size. 

Judging by the amount of blood, Shinichi observed that the sword left a fairly light wound on the creature. The other boy took no notice of this and kept jumping here and there, as if encircling the creature to slash its limbs as often as he could. Then Shinichi realized that the boy wasn’t trying to cut off any of part of the creature. He was trying to inflict as much injury as he could on it, possibly to slow down its movements. Or at least he was, until its scaly and beady tail smacked the boy on his knees. He was inevitably flipped over in the air and landed on his back, his sword strayed out of his reach.

A sharp intake of breath almost choked Shinichi, and without even thinking he stood out from the trees and yelled, “Hey!”

The creature turned his attention away from the dark-skinned boy. Shinichi felt like he just swallowed a boulder at the way it’s now staring at him with a deadly intent.

He didn’t wait to see what it would do, just turned and started running as fast as his feet would take him. He ran past thickets of thorns that scratched his pants, and small trickles of blood ran down, but he hadn’t time to think of it, couldn’t even feel the stinging pain as he pounded the earth beneath him. If only he was an earthbender, he thought, he could throw huge chunks of rock at the lizard. Or better yet, dig a hole to hide in.

Just when he felt it was catching up to him, he heard a gurgle, the kind that builds bile up in the back of someone’s throat, followed by the hard thunk of something hitting the ground. Shinichi tried to stop himself, but skidded across the brush and fell to his hands and knees, panting.

He took a moment to catch his breath and pushed himself back up onto his shaky legs, and walked the few paces to where the creature was flailing around, blood pouring from the back of its neck. Not a minute later, it turned to another direction and scurried away, its humongous beady tail whipping weakly behind it.

He watched the other boy, seemingly not much younger or older than him, who had jet black hair with equally thick eyebrows. He had the tip of his sword plunged lightly on the ground he was standing on as he rested his weight on the hilt. The boy turned around, scanning the forest. After making sure that the creature was really gone, he walked towards Shinichi.

“You’re from one of the Water Tribes?” was the first thing the boy said, his mouth curved up into a smirk.

“What’s yer name? Why are ya here?” He continued to press on unabashedly.

Shinichi replied with a scowl, “I’m Kudo Shinichi, from the Northern Water Tribe, the oldest one. And my father is here for the Delegatory Meeting.” He felt no obligation to give an answer, but he wanted the other boy to know that he is not to be underestimated, that his father is of importance. 

“Ah, ya mean that meeting in that giant dome?” asked the boy with his lips stretched in a grin.

“Who are you anyway?” Shinichi asked, brows furrowed. He felt his annoyance slowly melting away at the easygoing behavior the other boy was displaying.

The boy regarded him with something akin to excitement in his eyes (Shinichi was a little confused, how could this boy be this relaxed after having just encountered a monster?), before answering, “Name’s Hattori Heiji.” 

“You’re not an earthbender, are you?” Shinichi voiced his suspicion. This boy, Heiji, was wielding his sword the whole time. What earthbender would do that when they were literally on the ground?

Heiji shook his head. “I’m more of a.. Warrior, I guess.” He said with a twinge of confidence. He started walking back to the direction of the town, dragging his sword beside him, and Shinichi jumped into step with him.

“Heh. Did you know that that creature is a—”

“Beaded Basilisk Lizard.” Shinichi finished Heiji’s sentence. He turned to look at Heiji with a smug smile. “Just because I’m from the Northern Realms doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about the variation of creatures here, you know.”

Heiji pondered about it for a second. "I’m not saying that you don’t know anything. But I certainly think that I know more than you do."

Shinichi snickered. “I know waterbending. All you can do is wield a sword.” Seriously, he was suppressing the urge to stick his tongue out.

“Oh yeah?” Heiji’s voice seemed like it was raised by an octave, followed by a howl of laughter. “Then why didn’t I see you do any of your water magic on that Basilisk Lizard earlier?”

“I was thirsty and ended up drinking my water supply,” admitted Shinichi lamely. He crossed his arms and shot Heiji a look, “I didn’t have that much water on me to begin with. Didn’t think I would have to fight today... but I do can waterbend! I’ll show you when we get to the town fountain.”

But once they got back to the town, he heard their signature Northern Tribe foghorn blow—a sign that their ship is about to leave. His father would be mad at him if he was late, and possibly forbid him from coming along for the meeting next week. But Shinichi wanted to come back, so he did the logical thing and started to make his way down to the pier. 

“I really am a good waterbender. I’ll show you next week!” Shinichi called out. The last thing he saw was the massive grin on Heiji’s face, mirroring his own. Things were going to be so much fun the next time around. 

During his waterbending lessons, he was more determined than ever. He even skipped his daily morning rounds with his father as well as his playtime with Ran, just for extra training. He had to get better in the next few days, preferrable before next week. He was going to show that Hattori boy how powerful his waterbending was. 

Over the next few weeks, he quickly found that he enjoyed spending time with Heiji more than any of his friends. Well, except Ran, but she’s different from the rest. Heiji knew a lot more things than any of the kids back home and they could end up talking about so many things that he couldn’t even bring up to his friends. Most of the things Shinichi knew came from his father, but he wasn’t sure how Heiji knew as much as he did. Sometimes they would bring their heated discussions to some of the town people—awakening laughters and bringing ruffles to their heads—when all they wanted was to know who was on the winning side of the argument.

He was kind of disappointed when Heiji told him that he wouldn’t be able to meet him in the woods every week anymore. He didn’t specify where or why he was leaving, but both of them had parted ways with their heads and noses high. 

They were really young then. Shinichi had no doubt that he would meet Heiji again.

Φ

Many years have passed, Shinichi muses. 

“Say, Shinichi, isn’t this where you said your best friend from the foreign land lives?” Ran’s voice gently pulls him back from his thoughts.

“Ah,” Shinichi nods, scratching the back of his head. Back then, he was always so pumped after their playtimes and whenever he got back home he would always tell his everyone about the cool things he and Heiji did. Shinichi’s mother thought he regarded that boy with such adoration and at one point started referring him “Shinichi’s foreign best friend” although Shinichi himself always denied it outright. “I don’t think he lives here anymore. I don’t even think he ever lived here.”

Kaito’s interest suddenly spikes. He takes a moment to evaluate Shinichi, taking in his face and his seemingly ever bored expression. “You had a best friend?” He chuckles, and Shinichi kind of feels mocked.

“We’re more like... rivals.” Shinichi settles with a shrug, no anger or annoyance in any ounce of his body, the corners of his lips tugged up in a grin, “But I guess you could call us that.”

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  The Dark Curse

Chapter 16:  The Deal that Never Was

The deed was done far before dawn's earliest light; there wasn't a doubt about that in his mind. The deal was done. Jethero was dead. When his body finally was found, there would be no denying it was not Alexandra who killed him, and by all accounts, he should be well on his way to picking up the rest of his tea set by now. Actually, by the time the sun rose, he acknowledged that he should have picked up his tea set hours ago and be home studying it by now trying to identify it's importance in the future. But there he sat, still up in the trees looking down at the barn, unmoving, just like he had been all night.

He told himself that it was just to be sure, to make absolutely positive that Jethero was dead, but the truth was he didn't need to see the carnage to know and it wasn't what he was waiting for. What he was really waiting for was-

That.

For nearly as soon as the sun rose, he heard a scream emerge from that barn, high pitched and blood-curdling. But he didn't take any satisfaction from it. In fact, he didn't know why it affected him quite the way it did. Granny had turned him down and he'd resorted to doing what he knew he had to in order to make the deal work, but somehow…her scream rang out in his ears, repeating over and over again. His heart was hard these days. He had very few cares in the world and yet this Granny, this…girl-she had found one of those soft spots. And in the night, the idea of walking off and leaving her to this alone had seemed wrong in a way that the murder of Jethero had not.

In the middle of the night, after the screams of Jethero had given way to nothing but the sounds of ripping flesh he'd gone back into the house to send his puppets back to the castle where they belonged and also had grabbed the key Donna had used to lock her away with. Now, though he was two dozen feet up in the air at least, he easily slid off of the branch he sat on and the next minute was safely on the ground. At the door of the barn, he heard no motion, no tugging or pulling on the chain that bound her, only the sound of weeping. Weeping…from this woman...it sounded as silly as saying she was bleating! And yet, when he finally removed the spell he'd placed on the barn door and opened it, he saw that he wasn't wrong. She was a huddled mass against the far wall, her head was in her hands, and her body shook from the sobs that came screaming out of her mouth. At least until the barn door opened and the light flooded in.

Scared and afraid were two words he'd never thought would describe this woman, but they were all he could think to use for the look in her eyes as she finally turned her head to look up at the figure before her. A moment later he knew that she was aware of who he was, and she scrambled to her feet.

"You!" she screamed as she looked around the scene in front of her. And what a scene it was too. Now that he let his eyes roam as her own did he could see the bloody pulp of a mess on the ground that was once a man. There was blood on the walls, bloody paw prints on the ground, scratch marks on the wood. Alexandra had truly gotten her wish…Jethero had suffered. And now Granny…

"You…you tricked me!" she cried as she slowly came to the realization of what had happened. "You tricked me into…oh…what have I done?!" She put her hands to her head and sank down against the back wall again as she cried the chains around her clacking and clanging with her movements.

"You've done exactly as I intended," he explained in a low voice, his natural voice. There was no need to toy with her, no need to put on a show. She desired nothing of him now but answers and there was no reason why she shouldn't have them. "You can rest assured, Dearie, that what you've done is squash a pest, a true insect."

She shook her head as her eyes remained focused on the former body. "No one deserves this…"

"He was a philanderer. A swine. And now, thanks to you, there can be no doubt to the authorities that he was not killed by the wife or children he's tormented with his lies and deceit. They'll have enough money to survive the winter and get back on their feet before the wife remarries."

"And what was in it for you?" she demanded finally looking back up at him. Her eyes were red, her face swollen from the tears she'd shed, but he could still see the anger in her, he could hear the bit of it in her tone. "Why did you care about them? What was worth all of that? All of this?!"

Oh, she was a sympathetic sight, that much was certain, but he wasn't stupid enough to fall for those doe eyes no matter how attractive her fire was. She was too good for him, and the answer that she was after wasn't even really clear to him yet, though he doubted she'd find that and acceptable excuse.

"That's my business. It's nothing that concerns you…at least not yet."

"Not yet…" she choked out a laugh that was somewhere between a snort and a sob. "What does that mean?"

In truth, he hadn't known what it meant, not until she'd asked. Not until he told himself that he should go and leave her be and the monster that lived within his own skin rebelled and reminded him what a wonderful tool a creature with her abilities could be! She might look sad and pathetic now, but she was a strong woman underneath it all. Having her on his side could be helpful, at least until he figured out the images and riddles coming into his mind.

"You think yourself a monster-"

"I am a monster!" she bit back, rising to her feet so quickly the chain still tied around her arm rattled. "You may have set out all the ingredients Rumpelstiltskin, but I'm the one that made the cake! I did this! Me! And that makes me a monster!"

He took a few deep breaths. He didn't particularly care for being yelled at or interrupted but given her state, he could excuse it.

"You think yourself a monster, but you are not. Not really. There are many werewolves in our realm, an entire family has lived right under your nose for decades before you came along and you never knew it because they can control themselves. Your troubles come from a lack of control. You fight the wolf inside of you and so it always wins. Accept what you are, and control becomes yours. You'll be naught but an ordinary wolf once a month, not hunted, not a murderer. I can help you come to accept what you are…if you give me the chance."

So that was what it was. He hadn't realized what he'd found so compelling about the woman until this very moment, until he'd begun his temptation, but now he saw it. She was him. Years ago after receiving the Dark Curse. She was who he'd been then when he'd been unwilling to truly embrace his new nature and the fight against it had cost him everything, including Baelfire! He saw himself in her eyes. Along with her potential.

But what he saw didn't matter. All that mattered was what Granny saw when he offered his hand to her. And as she looked quickly between that hand and the bloody scene over his shoulder, he was fairly certain that she didn't see things the way he did.

"No," she stated stepping away the little she could with the chain still attached to her wrist. "No, I won't do that! I won't be the monster you think I am and I will never be indebted to you in any way! I will never, ever, be this…again!"

He knew a desperate soul when he saw one, which meant that despite what she thought, he also recognized a satisfied soul. She meant every word she'd said, and that meant there was no deal to be made. He'd keep her in his sights, watch her grow into the "Granny" he already thought of her as, but this was the last of their transactions. He felt it just as much as he knew it. And before he left, he felt an odd compulsion to do what he'd never done before as the Dark One, magic at no cost…even if he knew it would rebound and make him worse than he was. He simply thought of it as the fulfillment of the deal that never was.

From beneath his own cloak he pulled out the brilliant red one he'd made and originally intended to give to her. He dropped it at her feet the way she had dropped it at his before all this.

"Keep the cloak, Dearie, blame the destruction on the wolf, and leave this place. The realm may never know we ever met. Use it, tell your family a wizard gave it to you, if they ask, put this behind you and live your life as you intended."

Her eyes…she had suck striking eyes. Firm and observant, but at the same time whoever had once said the eyes were the window to the soul must have known her because they were. She didn't say thank you, but he knew that the tears in her eyes were not only tears of anger as well as sadness and pain, but now mingled with tears of gratitude. She'd never say thank you, she wasn't that type of person, but he knew the cloak made all the difference.

His head turned as he began to hear voices outside. Male voices. They smelled blood. The Lucas family had returned from their own dalliances with the full moon. And so he used his magic to leave her there in the barn, the key to her chain still with him. He'd let that woman discover on her own that he'd dropped her into the barn of a wolves just like her. They had a son about her age, and foresight had proven that future generations would someday come in handy. He trusted that, for what he'd seen had already come to pass. No matter what happened from this point on, whenever they encountered one another in the future, he had no doubt theirs would always be a complicated relationship.

[mimiplaysgames]

Strength to Protect the Things That Matter (Ch. 28)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Word Count: 11,864

Summary: Terra braves the Realm of Darkness to find her.

A/N: THERE ARE NO SPOILERS IN THIS CHAPTER - there can’t be. I’ve finalized the outline for this thing back in May, and it’s barely changed. I have gotten messages from readers worried that I wouldn’t get this fic done before the game releases, and while I appreciate so much the concern and enthusiasm, this is simply impossible. I’ve said it many times, but this fic has a sequel, and there is just no way for it to finish. It will just continue on being an AU (hopefully). That being said, I’ve had a lot of fun with different concepts of what Terra would see in the RoD, and I finally get to the reunion that I’ve been wanting to do for so long. I think of this as what Aqua truly deserves (or based from the trailers, an AU where Aqua meets Terra in the RoD, as opposed to Ansem SoD). I’ve been absolutely mortified, to the point that it has affected my mental health severely, from sharing this. But at least it’s here. This chapter makes references to The Black Cauldron (1985).

Reunion

He doesn’t know how he is still alive after drowning, but it’s a blessing. It means he’s finally close to her.

Though Aqua isn’t anywhere to be seen. His face half-submerged in murky water, on a sloped hill, Terra groggily opens his eyes. It appears to be night.

Then his eyes snap wide. He yells.

His shoulders are heavy and strained, his back writhing from the snaps of nerve shock. It is as if the burden of a body his same weight is rung on top of him, making it difficult to stand up.

But it’s his throat that hurts more, his blood pumping as though an invisible person has a hand gripped around it, squeezing to cut off all air, and strong enough to leave bruises. To breathe scratches him and swallowing burns, and with every effort to raise himself from the ground, the weight of it all gets worse. That familiar headache makes itself known, like his hair being ripped clean from its roots.

The Realm of Darkness must be giving Xehanort better hold, and he’s trying to wrestle control of the body back.

Terra summons his armor to cover him, enclosing him in a protective shell that stands between himself and the toxic atmosphere around him. But more importantly, it traps Xehanort within him. Most of the pain is alleviated immediately, gradually fading away as if falling asleep. The headache still lingers and it’s still uncomfortable when he swallows, but it’s manageable.

His ankles are deep into the water, his cape gently ghosting the surface. Behind him is a small town, with cobblestone streets, dimly lit lights, and architecture that begs to be inviting and warm, like an old-fashioned vacation resort.

Though it’s quiet. Ahead, the water is so dark it is black, and clean like waxed glass. This must be where he came from. The reflection of his armor is so crisp, it’s like looking in the mirror.

Deep in the water, a red lightning bolt strikes. The reflection turns its head and steps away.

Terra stumbles backward with a yelp, unsure what he’s been expecting. He knows the Realm is sentient, and he supposes mind games are a part of that. Anything can happen. Panting hard, he tells himself to get it together. No use letting everything scare him.

The town ahead is quaint enough – if it had people. He can imagine that it normally would have children running around, laughing. Bakers yelling about their goods. Mothers shopping through several stores. Men dragging their wares. People just trying to get to where they need to go. But Terra is completely alone.

Through a window, he sees drawings made by children lying across a coffee table in front of a television set, which is off. On the dinner table just beyond is half-finished food. But there is no one there to enjoy any of it. If he doesn’t know any better, it looks as though the family who used to live here had to abandon their home in the middle of a typical evening - when events turned into an unknown catastrophe, or it was their lives they’d had to give up if they chose to stay. And they never came back.

Not all of the houses are in good condition. Some of them have roofs ripped open, the pieces hovering above in the sky as if frozen in time. The stone streets are cracked, and several of the buildings lean into the water. Like the entire neighborhood is slowly sinking. 

On second thought, the town is rising from the water, and he realizes why the architecture here is so familiar.

This is Traverse Town.

Or a part of it, creeping its way into the Realm of Darkness. There isn’t much time left for that world to continue standing. He must hurry.

The sound of his shoes against the stone is loud, each clank reverberating way too much. As though he’s begging to be found by predators. He almost wishes he can speak out loud just to have some other noise to diffuse his steps… but what if that makes them come faster? And still, some part of him needs to hear something. He hasn’t been here long and it’s already too quiet.

A radio sits on an open windowsill of a small house. The room behind it is dark, and all he can make out are the shadows of empty furniture. There is only a single light, deep in the very back of a hallway, and it’s too dim to really show him anything else. Some part of him is grateful that he can’t see much – lest there is someone sitting inside he doesn’t know about. If there are any people walking in the Realm of Darkness at all.

He flicks a switch to turn the radio on. No power.

He flicks it back off and walks away from it. Static. It comes so sharply that it nearly screams through the rustling of its commotion.

And it’s so loud. He scampers over to jerk the switch back and forth, but it won’t shut up.

Then he hears it, muffled and barely audible. “Terra.”

Her voice.

“Aqua!” He lifts the radio and talks right into the speaker. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

The static turns off.

He tries the switch again, but there is no response. No power.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Something is moving inside that house, like a person shifting on a couch.

Rocks roll down the corner of the street, where it turns around the block. A shadow creeps behind a lamp post until it disappears. Out of the corner of his peripheral vision, by a closed crate, something blinks. Yellow eyes stare at him through a second-floor window in the house adjacent to him.

He drops the radio and summons his Keyblade. Like trapping prey, the Heartless leech out from between the cobblestones, surrounding him.

These are stronger than the ones he’s faced in the outside world. Even if small and primitive, darkness here gives them a kick. His strikes don’t stun them as much, and every attack drains him. He only destroys half of them when the headache stings, but he continues – delivering throw downs, massive swings, bright shockwaves. Until it’s quiet again, though who knows when the next group will come, especially after all the noise he’s been making.

But he’s exhausted, leaning onto the Ends of the Earth for support. This isn’t normal. The use of his Keyblade shouldn’t feel like it’s trying to suck him dry of life. Maybe in this place, when Xehanort shares a space in his body, the light he uses depletes its ability to protect him. 

Then he shouldn’t use darkness at all here, and should probably be more careful in choosing his battles from now on. After all, keeping his sanity is worth keeping control over his body. He swiftly follows the street until it abruptly ends, leading up a tall, grassy hill. It may be a leg-sore to climb all the way up, but the ocean on the other side is a no-go as well.

It’s a normal climb up, until the ground underneath his feet starts to crumble, collapsing under his weight. He sprints faster, sometimes stumbling onto his hands and knees with every shift under him. He reaches the top, the crumbling dirt pausing before it reaches the peak, as if it gives up on trying to kill him. Like a sore loser. Sentient and tricky, indeed.

Looking back, the way up is completely gone, a giant pit of nothing taking its place. The remnants of Traverse Town, floating in the air like a painting, now sit in between an endless hole and an infinite ocean on the other side.

That ocean is the entrance he took to get here. The message is loud and clear: the Realm is telling him there’s no way out.

“I’ll find another way back,” he says defiantly. He can’t let it get to him. He’s come too far.

Onward he goes. A path of dirt and stone through tall trees that are sparse enough he can still see the sky. Who knew the Realm of Darkness has stars – slightly dimmer than usual, but odd. There are different night skies, as though they’ve been snipped off from whatever world they came from and were pieced together. The bushes he passes by don’t move, because there aren’t any critters to rustle through them. All the animal calls that are normally present in the woods are not to be heard here. No wind to bother the leaves. Some branches hang low enough to hit his pauldrons and his helmet, and this alone is the loudest thing he can hear for miles.

Clearings and valleys also have their limits. They taper off cliffs into a vast blankness, where artificial stars from who knows where will also hover.  Sometimes, the ground is split in two, with a lower level of undiscovered territory and mounds of dirt floating in the air as if to stop themselves from getting lost in the void.

What is left in the Realm of Darkness are shards of a world.

And a bunny.

A white, glowing rabbit, waiting in the middle of the trail, its nose twitching.

“What are you doing here?” He crouches down, surprised to see that it doesn’t seem afraid of him. It is incredibly round and fluffy – incredibly adorable, so much so that it hurts to look at it. And it stays long enough for him to suspect that this can’t be a trick.

It shines with such a pure, white light, it is exactly like the dolphin that led him here in the first place. A light in the shadow. An alebrije. A spirit guide.

It’s when he realizes that he has imagined Aqua’s spirit guide as a rabbit before that his heart swells with excitement. “Take me to her.”

It runs and he follows, past stone benches and idyllic arches. There is an abandoned gazebo, with carvings in the wood that depict angels, flowers, and hearts. This area is romantic, the kind of trail that a couple would take to find a private, intimate getaway or to host a wedding. Flowers grow around the shrubbery here, but they disappear as soon as he comes near them. With sunlight, this place would be peaceful. But here, the false night sets this up like a haunted venue, its attractive and charming exterior just a lure for a trap. Enough to make him wonder if scorned lovers are waiting to abuse their revenge on unsuspecting passerby’s.

The rabbit is gone, but at least it led him far enough to suggest a direction for him to go.

He passes by another clearing. And then he sees her.

On a stone bench, right at the edge of a cliff. Cross-legged, with her palms to her knee, Aqua sits calmly as she surveys the ground. As if she has been waiting this entire time for him. Her blue hair is the same length it has always been, and she is so close he only has to take a few steps to touch her.

He doesn’t have the time to care much about how hard his heart is beating against his chest. “Aqua…”

Her gaze comes slowly, and her expression is as a blank as a doll’s. Not a care in her eyes. Something is wrong with her, and he nearly shouts in anger over the thought that the Realm of Darkness has harmed her.

He nears himself with an outstretched hand. “Aqua, I’m here. You’re safe.”

He’s within inches of her when she cranes her neck back to its limit, as if trying to see behind her. Her body follows the weight of her head, and she slips backward off the precipice.

Terra lunges forward to try to grab her, yelling out her name and his denials over such a grotesque sight. He misses. His reflex grabs the foot of the stone bench before falling off himself, and he watches her tumble against jagged rocks of the level below beneath, landing with a sickening crunch that sounds like crushed plastic, her limbs splattered and obviously broken.

She isn’t real. She’s just a mannequin.

He struggles to pull himself back up, rolling over to his stomach when he’s safe on solid ground. This isn’t real.

It is hot inside the armor, sweat dripping down his shoulders and his forehead. He hears that crunch over and over again in his mind, and it’s suffocating. He wails at the image of her throwing herself like that, and he flips his helmet off in an attempt to cool himself. But there is no breeze in the Realm of Darkness, so he sweats and heaves all the same.

“She wasn’t real. She wasn’t real,” he keeps saying, hoping that hearing it out loud will make it stick, that he just didn’t see her get crushed.

Maybe it isn’t a good idea to have his helmet off. His headache comes back and it pounds at his temples, hard enough for him to see lights. He opens the jar of Tifa’s thick brown potion, and swallows the rest of it until it is empty.

Soon enough, the headache melts away and he relaxes. He wiggles his helmet back on, the easing sensation of the potion traveling through his limbs as if being enclosed in the armor traps this symptom of relief and will continue to keep it that way. Terra studies the empty jar. She made this brew so compassionately and it has now outlived its usefulness. I should thank her when I get the chance, for letting me get this far.

The rabbit makes itself known after hopping out of some nearby bushes. It stands on its hind legs, surveying the area. The Realm may want to try to claim him for itself, but it’s as though the rabbit knows the only truth that exists here. Everything else is a distraction.

“Wait for me.” He stands up, shakes off the last image of the mannequin in his mind, and leaves the empty jar behind.

The rabbit fades in and out, only really appearing when Terra makes a misstep. It lets him guide himself otherwise, learning to trust his own heart to find her. And he walks, forgetting he is hungry and tired. Eventually, those feelings simply don’t exist anymore, and all that is left is just the need to go forward because there is nothing else to do. Thinking about it too much sends him into a state of worry.

It makes him regret not bringing Riku along with him.

What if he never eats again? How does he even begin to search a place this huge for her? What if the Realm shifts and changes their locations, making it so that they will never reunite? 

Anytime he thinks he won’t find her, the rabbit will appear. As if to say, You already have.

It isn’t until he hears the splashing of water that he realizes he’s been walking for what seems like hours and he’s suddenly shin-deep in a swamp. He hasn’t been aware of where the domain has changed. It just does.

The trees here are so much more compact, roots stretching upward so it makes it hard to through them, with vines reaching into the murkiness, and plants so tall they make it hard to gauge how deep they run. The water is so dark there isn’t a way to see into it. Quite frankly, he’s lost.

“Now what do I do?” he asks out loud, hoping the rabbit hears him. He wades through the water, telling himself to calm down, using breathing exercises taught by his Master in an effort to ease his mind and listen to his heart on where to go next. The foliage is so thick, there’s isn’t a clear path he can take next.

The silence is maddening, and he aches just to have something, anything, to speak to him.

“I need to get out of here.” He probably shouldn’t be talking too much out loud, for fear of what will hear him, but it’s better than not hearing anything. It’s too quiet.

The Realm of Darkness decides to comply to his wishes, and a pig’s shriek vibrates and pounds across the entire area. From every direction, sounding as if it is dying from a brutal beat down, or a gas leak, or an electrocution – something that is letting it suffer as long as it can until it can go on no longer. It comes in waves, like the wind. The squeal will pass by him, until it comes back around. It’s so horrid, he attempts to cover his ears, but his helmet won’t mute the sound. He needs to save it from its misery. But with the way it travels, it’s more like a specter. And it can probably hurt him.

He spins and heads the direction he came from, but something grabs his ankle. And its force is strong. It pulls. He stumbles to his knees, nearly getting submerged.

With a yell, he summons his Keyblade and sends a blast of intense light toward the direction of whatever has hold of him. Let free, he scrambles to the edge of the bank, where he can at least stand on mud.

Searching the water for what grabbed him shows him nothing, until he notices a bright blue color rise to the surface. It is shaped like a star, and it glides there, as if beckoning him to grab it. Aqua’s very own Wayfinder.

He shivers. His first instinct is to dive headfirst to take it. It’s hers, and the Realm of Darkness cannot claim it. He stares at the floating Wayfinder, trying to give himself the best reason not to reach for it. Wondering if whatever that grabbed him is actually her, and if he has just seared her with his Keyblade. The image of raising his weapon against her fills his mind, and-

“It’s a trap,” he says out loud to the Realm, as if to declare he has it figured out.

In response, the swamp water bubbles, and the Wayfinder disappears, like a light being turned off. But what rises in its place are a pair of bright yellow eyes. And another pair just behind a plant. And another underneath the roots that stretch so far above the surface of the water, its tree knows it is toxic.

Terra finds himself surrounded by hundreds of pairs of eyes: shadows that surround him on tree branches, in between twisted trunks, coming out of the water and the mud, forcing their way through bushes, climbing down vines. There are so many of them, he’s certain they can easily force him down the water.

The Keyblade is a marvelous weapon, and when he conjured it for the very first time, he was a boy ready to face any danger that lay ahead of him. Believing he was invincible. But it comes with costs. With an entity like Xehanort still inhabiting his body, using the power of light through the Ends of the Earth is the equivalent of forcing himself to run for his life after having survived a multitude of whiplashes to his body. Tifa’s potion barely does much to keep it all at bay. It hurts. It’s tiring. The old man simply waits to take over, and the headache that comes only grows with every swing.

And these Heartless just won’t stop coming.

He scurries away from them, tripping over enlarged roots, squeezing his way through tight spaces in between trees, ripping away vines that get entangled onto his armor. He doesn’t know how many Heartless are chasing after him now.

The rabbit is on a branch high above the water, dashing across, telling him to change direction.

But once the spirit guide passes through an entanglement of bindweed, the Realm decides it has had enough. The trees expand and turn, enclosing the bunny within their grasp, until it is no longer seen. He uses his Keyblade to hack away, but to no avail. It’s gone.

He desperately crawls through the swamp until he leaves the muggy terrain behind. Until he reaches a vast, empty wasteland. Though this doesn’t stop them from stalking him. An army of Heartless creep out from the swamp, coming at him at full speed. He proceeds to run away from them and sees something worse: hundreds of towering Darkside Heartless, very aware of his sudden presence in the vicinity. The horizon beyond has a soft glow, and Terra can barely make out a castle in the near distance.

A Darkside moves to attack. Terra dodges. Out here in the open, he is completely bare.

He makes for the castle. Sprints. Pants. He tries to steady his labored breathing as he wills one leg to dash in front of the other, avoiding the large, black hands that try to grab him. The army of shadows behind him swarm the wasteland, keeping up to his pace. He pushes himself to run faster, his lungs ready to burst from the exertion it takes to propel beyond his top speed. The castle is near – it is completely foreboding and looks to be abandoned, sitting atop a dried moat. A wooden, chipped drawbridge is already down, so he makes for the inside – at least it’s good enough shelter to avoid the Darksides.

The bridge falls apart just as he enters the castle. He immediately collapses onto the floor, wheezing as hard as the pig he heard in the swamp. His whole body shakes from such adrenaline, and for a moment, he’s too weak to pick himself up.

He can at least roll over, surveying what is waiting for him on the other side of the dry moat. Nothing. The Heartless chasing him are gone, as if they were never there to begin with. Just a vast, empty space of dirt. But now, there is no bridge to allow him to go back. The moat is deep and steep enough that it’d be impossible to climb out of.

“Damn it,” he says, his breath too shaky. “I lost the rabbit.”

He allows himself to rest until his breathing starts to slow down. There is no way to go but through this castle. It is dim, and despite that there is no moon outside these walls, there is a faint light that seemingly comes from nowhere, just enough to see what is around him. The castle itself is old-fashioned, built out of stacking stones together, and it is in dire disrepair. Some of the walls have crumbled, and the stairs leading to the upper floors are now large dirt heaps. Tapestries and flags are shredded to pieces. It is just as lively as a tomb.

Eventually, he manages to stand, and casually walks through the hallways. Dust poofs upwards with every step he takes. A door slams.

He whips around, and sees a door sliding across a wall, as if it exists in a separate plain of time and space. It stops in front of him.

He’s exhausted, and despite that he doesn’t want to follow whatever guided tour the Realm has prepared for him, he’s desperate enough to play the game. Just to do something. Anything to keep him from getting bored.

He opens the door and it leads to a solid wall. The door then slams shut and slides away.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?”

Another door slams. Several move around – the ones in the upper floors where he cannot reach are just there to taunt him. The ones on the lower floor move so fast, there isn’t a point in bothering with them. So he ignores them, until he finds himself a stationary one that he is sure hasn’t moved anywhere.

It is locked. Then, as if to mock him, it slides away. 

Walking through the castle is a trek of ignoring all of the closed doors, and he bides his time in exploring large passageways. Wagons, haystacks, wooden tables, ceramic mugs – all have been left behind by whoever used to run this place, all worn out and overused. He wonders if the castle was in this condition when it still existed in the Realm of Light.

But most places in the castle are out of bounds to him, either leading him to a door that leads nowhere, or a door that moves away when he gets too close. Essentially, the Realm makes itself clear – there is only one way to go, he just has to find it.

And he sees it – an open door, with a visible hallway beyond. Finally.

When he approaches it, it slams in his face. He opens it, and there is now a solid wall instead.

He normally would never describe being played around like this as heartbreaking. But now, the need to get out of this castle is the same as the need to eat in order to stall death.

He fights the desperation to beg the Realm to let him go.

“I need to stay strong,” he says to no one in particular. To himself. To the Realm.

How he wishes he could talk to somebody.

“I can’t give up. Maybe there is another passage somewhere that I haven’t seen yet.”

He walks down a hallway he’s sure he’s been through before. But where else can he go? Several steps in, the floor disintegrating beneath him. He lands on stone below with a thud, his armor the worst kind of cushion to break the fall.

But at least the soreness is more bearable than the headache. This lower level is darker, the hallway more narrow. On the one hand, it’s new so it’s at least something for him to do. On the other, what lies ahead of him now is a stairway that spirals downward, which isn’t the direction he hopes to go.

With no other choice, he climbs down, and they eventually open up to a large room – the first room in the castle he’s ever been able to enter. He cannot see enough to tell what is inside, but it looks terribly messy, the floor full of stacked objects. There is a throne on the opposite wall, and near it a massive, steel, heavy-looking black cauldron.

Upon closer inspection, there is a body sitting on the throne. A ferociously tall man, dressed in a red, hooded robe. At first, Terra thinks that he’s looking at decoration on the throne, fashioned to resemble antlers of a stag. Until he realizes that it isn’t the furniture with poor taste, but the man. The man has horns.

This isn’t a man. Terra takes a sharp inhale, a memory from years ago creeping into his conscience. As a boy, he used to be obsessed with reading books about all sorts of dark tales and magic. One in particular is the most famous failure for Keyblade Masters in all history: the fall of Prydain, a world that enveloped itself in darkness and has been banished from the Realm of Light for centuries.

This is the body of the Horned King, a skeletal being who is the reason for that fall. His undead army rose to take over the land, and there were so many deaths that the world had no way to survive on its own light. Terra has read enough of these books to know exactly how the Horned King was drawn, and his familiarity is unmistakable. The skin on his face is so thin that it sticks to every fold in his skull, is fingers scaly. He is a legendary fiend of darkness, recorded by Keyblade wielders who have been defeated in their attempt to save this place again and again. For too long, Prydain has been missing. Eraqus used it as an example in his lessons as the worst-case scenario to happen to a world when a Keybearer is unable to do his job.

To think that Terra has stumbled into such a domain is a danger that is technically undefined.

He immediately steps backward in an attempt to get out of the room. There is a crunch. The mess he has stepped on – no it isn’t a mess, it is a bone. A skeleton. The room is riddled with them.

The Horned King stirs in his chair, growling. The sockets of his skull slowly glow a bright red, as though he’s been asleep and has just been disturbed. And he unleashes a nasty snarl at the sight of Terra.

A puff of green smoke bursts from the black cauldron, almost as if on command. It spreads over the mass of skeletons like a noxious gas, and soon enough, they all twitch with sleeplessness.  First Heartless, now the undead.

Terra summons his Keyblade and begins to chop away before the ones near him get a chance to stand straight. Damn the headache, damn the tiredness – he needs to survive. The Horned King bellows, and his skeleton army follow suit.

Their old weapons of war don’t cause much damage to his armor, but that isn’t the worst danger. What is most imperative for Terra to avoid is to be surrounded and be swallowed by them. With his Keyblade, he strikes the ground, shaking the walls so much that dirt drops from the ceiling. He strikes again, and stone collapses on top of a group nearby.

He makes for a different hallway, hoping to find an exit out of here. Away from the power of the cauldron, which has its mist covering the entire room by now. Away from the skeletons that are chasing after him, swinging their swords so lazily that they swipe at the walls. There is a door.

“Please let it lead somewhere.”

It does, to a hallway full of skeletons waiting on the other side for him, crawling over each other to get to him. None of their eyes glow like Heartless do. Perhaps it is the power of the cauldron that made them immune to being swallowed up by the Realm. Maybe it’s because they have already died and the Realm has no use for them.

Either way, Terra is now surrounded, the skeletons clawing at his helmet, pulling at his cape, dragging him down to the floor to subdue him. To drown him. To crush him.

A swing of his Keyblade onto the ground and it sends the ones closest to him flying. He moans in pain from the use of it, the helmet practically locking the agony inside.

“I can’t lose to Xehanort now,” he yells to himself.

More of them come. If light is too taxing in a world of darkness for him, then perhaps powers of nothingness will do.

In his mind, Terra wills the particles in the air to combust, exactly the way Xemnas does it. He allows himself to really feel how annoyed he is at his situation, until he’s ready.

“Get away from me!”

Several bombs of energy explode in the air, destroying some of the skeletons and sending others away. But his body also reacts to the bombs, and like catering to his need to keep a far distance from his enemies, Terra flies backwards – and stays afloat.

Xemnas’ telekinetic powers apparently also lend themselves to levitation. Except Terra cannot control it, and this is the worst timing to learn. He continues to float backward as if there isn’t any gravity to slow him down, hordes of skeletons committing themselves to a futile attempt to grab him from below.

“Wait, wait.” He flails his arms around, trying to grasp at anything that will stop his levitation, his fingers merely brushing on the wall. He digs his Keyblade into the stone, suspending him in midair so he can finally land on his feet, the creeping mist of the black cauldron disturbed by his landing.

There are still the skeletons to deal with. 

And they are powered by the magic of the cauldron. Maybe if he disturbs it…

Using the explosive energy of nothingness, he casts aside all of these shells of former humans, trying to make his way to the cauldron. It’s easier than he anticipates, considering how light-weight they are and that their tattered armor cannot handle being attacked by Xemnas’ powers.

The Horned King roars when he nears, his army of undead suddenly skirmishing to ambush Terra. This at least tells him that he has the right idea.

“In your despair, as you face what ails you most, you will perish,” the Horned King says, his voice an echo.

Terra scoffs. “How dramatic.”

His Keyblade glows with a bright light, and he strikes the ground. Cracks form and make their way to the cauldron. Then he sends out one of Xemnas’ explosions to keep fiends off of him. He strikes the ground again to force cobblestone into stacks against the cauldron, the foundation underneath becoming unstable. Another one of Xemnas’ explosions for self-protection.

Summoning the energy he has left, his Keyblade glowing even brighter, he hurls a shockwave strong enough to topple the cauldron over, spilling its acidic contents all over the room. Fire that burns nothing but green swallow the area, escalating in height to such an extent that even the undead soldiers are unable to survive its flames.

The Horned King desperately barks in a language Terra doesn’t understand, but no matter. There is enough chaos to slip away. The King and his stupid army can continue to rot in this Realm. He stumbles out of the room, the flames burning brighter and threatening to take him with them. It emits a bright enough light to illuminate a new door further down, and at first he struggles with the handle in his panic. It opens. A staircase.

“Thank goodness,” he says painfully, clutching his side. Shutting the door behind him, he seals it with his Keyblade, despite how exhausted he is. The flight of stairs spirals upward, continuing on and on. It’s an incredibly high tower, but hey, at least he’s away from that horrid room.

At the top is a large room, with a tall mirror leaning against a wall covered in a tattered, taupe carp. Shelves of vials are on one side of it, and weapons are displayed on the wall on the other. Chests litter the space. There is a window with multiple diamond-shaped panes showing him the wasteland outside. There still aren’t any Heartless lurking about – at least not right now. A single forest grows behind the castle, though it’s too dark for him to see how far that stretches.

He sits on the floor, catching his breath. At least it’s quiet. And relatively safe.

Though he now has to find a way to escape this tower. He has to endure, to find her.

“Aqua,” he says groggily, “just hold out for me a little longer. I’m almost there.” He doesn’t know why he said that. He doesn’t actually know how much time he has in this place, and whether he’ll have enough of it to finally set her free.

Four taps on glass, like a knock on a door.

Immediately he looks toward the window, expecting to see a Heartless hovering outside. Nothing.

Four taps on glass. It’s coming from the mirror.

Whoever is behind it, or inside of it, wants his attention.

His throat grips. A part of him feels that he shouldn’t look, no matter what. His life is already enough at risk. And yet, he’s alone in this room, and as long as the mirror is there, it is an unknown danger, which is worse. It pains him to stand up, but he shuffles his feet enough to approach the mirror, his hand slowly reaching to grab the tarp.

He takes a breath while the fabric is gripped in between his fingers, stalling the exposure. Four taps on glass, this time louder.

He pulls it away. He had expected to see a Heartless, or maybe a twisted version of his own reflection that can act on its own. Maybe one of himself, with gold eyes and white hair.

But it is her.

Aqua’s face is deadpan through the mirror, her eyes as hollow and reflective as glass itself. “Did you come here to save me?” she asks as she steps through, like it is a doorway.

Her voice is robotic and sinister.

It sounds like her, yet it doesn’t. It mimics the same tenor, the same melody that he would hear out of the real Aqua. Which he hasn’t heard in years.

He knows she isn’t real. Yet hearing her voice nearly sends him to tears.

“Aqua,” he says immediately. “No, you aren’t- I can’t believe it-”

“What makes you think I want to be saved by you?” There is a Keyblade in her hand, but it’s warped, fizzling in and out of a black fog and he cannot recognize it.

“You aren’t real,” he summons his own, anticipating a fight.

And a terrible fight it is. The phantom clones herself, warping in and out just to tease him. To send him cheap attacks. To confuse him. He is suddenly surrounded by many Aqua’s, until there is only one. And then there are many again. She comes close to him, enough to nearly touch his visor with her lips. Enough for him to see his own reflection in her glass eyes. Then she disappears so another can hit him from behind.

Which is his greatest weakness – seeing her like this. It nearly makes him unable to swing his own weapon against her body. He keeps telling himself she is a fake, but it’s hard to believe. The phantom moves like Aqua. Dodges like Aqua. Casts spells like Aqua. How many years has he spent sparring with her, and let it be damned if this thing can read his memories so she knows exactly how to react to his movements.

“Don’t you think I deserve to be with someone better?” she asks before another attack. Her magical blows are so devastating, even when he blocks them, that he’d rather give up than to keep trying to survive them. He’s too tired.

And her voice hurts, too. She asks this question as if she knows how he truly feels, but is too afraid to say it himself. As if admitting it would mean absoluteness. Aqua does deserve to be with someone worthy of her. Yes. But if he agrees out loud, then that truth is bona fide.

“You aren’t real,” he says louder. He cannot get sad now. He cannot give up now. He raises to strike, and she blocks. For a ghost, she is incredibly strong.

She counters and hits him directly with an electrical force, as though harming him means nothing to her.

“I don’t want you,” she says, her voice keeping its steady directness while being disquieting all at the same time. As if what she is saying is a matter of fact.

He is on his knees. “I know already,” he says, upset enough to produce tears in his eyes. “Please, enough.”

She raises her mockery of a Keyblade. “In your despair, as you face what ails you most, you will perish,” she says. She swings with a dark force so massive, he is sent flying, crashing through the window.

He falls from the tower, traveling miles as he speeds closer and closer to the ground. He tries to summon his latent powers of nothingness, trying to get them to halt his near-inevitable crushing fate. But nothing is slowing him down. “Stop, stop, STOP!”

Mere inches from the ground he finally halts, hovering above the ground in a suspended levitation. Learning this power is going to take some getting used to. Terra swings his arms around, but it only forces him to awkwardly spin in the air.

He lifts a finger into the air, as if to command. “Put me down, gently.”

The power simply drops him, and all of his muscles take the shock inside the hard shell of his armor as he hits the ground. It’s ridiculous how sore he is right now.

Groaning, he drags himself to sit on the precipice of a boulderstone. The amount of sweat is massive, the heat unbearable. He has come a long way, and it has been nothing but near-death experiences, frights, and doubts.

Doubts.

It’s not that he doesn’t know already that the Realm of Darkness will give him no comfort. But he silently begs for anything to relieve the heat. He pulls the helmet off, and – as to be expected - it doesn’t make him feel any better. There is no breeze to cool off the sweat, and no amount of oxygen to help him breathe any easier. If the Realm is playing with him this much, and has such power to control where he is heading, how is he ever going to get to her? What if the both of them wander around the Realm, traveling in opposite directions, where they never find each other, for the rest of time?

Does it mean that all of his attempts are futile?

Does it mean she truly doesn’t want him here?

In all honesty, Terra hopes that his wishes have a place in the light. That he can return to the Land of Departure, and share the thrones with those closest to him. That he can watch the light of the sun through the colors of the stained glass, and study them well enough to remember their patterns this time. To search for his own way to become Master. To watch Ventus rise to that status, and see him grow to be a man. To have Aqua share his bed. To wake up next to her every day, and hold her close to him. To be in awe of her presence and accomplishments. To be wanted and welcomed back into his family. To be home, where the sun is so bright, it illuminates everything in the academy.

The Horned King’s castle doesn’t stir, but merely stands tall as it probably has for hundreds of years now, looming over him. There is not a single star in the sky of this fallen world. Terra is completely alone in this wasteland, not a sound to be heard. Not a rock tumbling by. Not a leaf dancing in the wind.

But the rabbit is here. It pants heavily, as if it has been frightened out of its life. Its nose twitches, and its ears are pressed against its head. It hops closer and closer to Terra, as if to seek some comfort.

“I know,” he nods in agreement. “This place sucks.”

At least this is better than having only himself to talk to. Or that phantom.

“I can tell this place is trying to punish me, and I can’t say that I disagree with it,” he says. “I’ve become what I said I wouldn’t, and I can’t imagine that she’d ever accept me as I am. I wanted to be someone worth her attention. But to be the cause of her suffering…

“I know what I want isn’t important. What I need to do is to find her, but I haven’t-” He takes a deep breath, the headache getting worse. “I honestly don’t know to survive this. I don’t know how I could ever make it better for her, and that scares me. I don’t know if I’ll ever get another chance to prove myself, or be forgiven. I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to have a good life in the future. I wish this headache would go away, I would give anything-”

He holds his head, taking breaths until some pressure is relieved. But it lingers. Not that it compares to what Aqua has been through, considering the insanity he has just witnessed. Even if the powers that be decide that he will never have a decent future, she still needs help.

“I can only just stand up, carry on, and walk forward. Even when it’s hard, or when I think I can’t go on. If I just continue to do something about my situation, then something’s gotta give, right? Something has to happen?”

The rabbit slows down its own breathing, traveling in uneven circles, as if beckoning him to follow it.

“Maybe I’m just looking for hope where it doesn’t exist, but I needed to get that out of my chest. Thanks for listening to me,” he says with a small smile. He puts his helmet back on, and pushes off his hands to stand up. He is completely sore and tired, and every step he takes is a bit of struggle. His feet practically beg for him to rest.

This time, the rabbit waits for him to catch up to it, stopping every once in a while for him to approach. They go through the forest, which is the foggiest place he has beenin this Realm so far, but just as quiet as all the rest. The trees here are so tall, he can’t make out any branches. There are no roads or trails. Nothing to help him discern a sense of direction. Just thick trunks that sprawl out every which way. If he gets lost here, he can certainly walk a never-ending labyrinth.

It’s eerie almost, but he nearly makes the fog out to be a portal of its own, a system separate than the rest of the Realm, like a blanket that is covering him from the darkness. With the bunny staying so calm, Terra doesn’t get the sense that danger lurks here, even when he cannot see far ahead of him. With each step, he focuses on relaxing different parts of his body – his mind, his arms, his knees, his neck – as a way to build up the energy to continue forward. He’ll stay sharp once the rabbit gives him reason to.

As long as he keeps going, something’s gotta give, right? Even when he knows, deep down, how it will end?

It doesn’t take long until the forest opens up to a wheat field, tall grass stalks swaying in the wind.

Wind.

Yes, it exists here. It’s very gentle but it coaxes the wheat to respond. Stars shine up above. A great distance ahead of the fields are these menacing electrical towers, but neither of them are connected by any power lines. They are illuminated by moonlight.

Which is the first sign of natural light he has seen. When he looks downhill, far beyond the wheat, beyond a field of grass, beyond rock formations, is a small beach where the moon nearly sinks itself into the water. It’s quite a walk from where he is standing, but he can see nonetheless.

A trail lies ahead of him. And the rabbit is gone.

“Not again.” He jogs forward, bending over to see if he can spot it in between the stalks. “Come on, where are you?”

No sign of it. Terra’s jog hurries into a run, his armor clamoring from all of the movement but he doesn’t care who listens. He needs his guide. And truth be told, he just can’t stand to be alone anymore.

It isn’t until he nearly runs into something that he skids to a halt. And his breath stops. And his muscles tense up.

She has her Keyblade out, holding it ahead of her in a defensive stance. Her eyes are wide in shock, her hair short, her face still young even after all these years.

The Keyblade in hand is his Master’s Defender. Aqua waits for him to make the first move, her eyes narrowing in anticipation.

Aqua. Her eyes are expressive this time. He can see that she anticipates everything to be a trick, quickly trying to analyze when he’s going to snap at her. He can basically see the wheels in her mind turning.

“Aqua…”

She shudders as she blinks, as if she cannot believe what she is hearing. She only lowers the Master’s Keyblade by a small margin. “Terra?”

The phantom may be a good mimic in everything except the feeling. But this is her. He can drop to his knees and sob until he dies, but at least he can die knowing he has done something right. And despite it all, his heart pounds so heavy it will keep him alive through the release. It’s her.

“Aqua, it’s really me.” He dismisses his armor to show her. He doesn’t know how sorry or tired or in pain he looks. He doesn’t care. “I’m here.”

Her eyes flicker at the sight of him. They glass over with tears, but instead of letting them fall, she dismisses the Keyblade and bolts to him. To take his hand in both of hers, squeezing them until she’s satisfied that they’re real. Her fingers are cold.

Before he can say anything, she looks into his eyes and searches them. “It’s really you…” She closes the gap and throws herself around his shoulders, holding him so tightly as if letting any room to breathe in between them would mean he would just be wiped from existence and she’ll lose him again forever. Like he’ll burst as a figment of her imagination.

It’s the same for him, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer - because to let her go would be to let her slip through the ground and he’ll never see her again. To have her in his arms is to resurrect an old life: he’s been living a second one all this time – a lie, really - completely cut off from everything that gave him his identity. But now he’s home.

The exposed skin on her back is freezing cold, and he brushes his fingers against it to comfort her. Takes turns to wrap his arms to give her warmth. Runs his fingers through her hair and rests his mouth on the crown of her head. She smells like dust, not quite clean yet not dirty, either. As if time has stopped for her, too.

She digs her face into his neck, her tears falling down and spreading onto his shoulder. His strong Aqua, who hasn’t cried since her parents’ death, weeping into his shirt until it’s soaked. And he lets tears fall too, into her hair, because there isn’t a feeling like knowing he’s whole again.

“I’m-” This is the hardest part – to be bare. When he has been keeping something in, or lying about something else - now he has to expose himself. To finally say something that is as true as the softness of her body.

“I’m sorry it took so long to come see you,” he says, knowing it just isn’t enough after what she’s been through. Knowing how possible it is for her to reject it. “I don’t have an excuse. I should’ve done something sooner. I should’ve-” The phantom’s words pass through his mind. “Please don’t hate me.”

She brushes the hair strands at the back of his neck, her breath stabilizing. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispers into his ear, her voice breaking a bit. “It’s been so hard. I’ve missed you so much, Terra.”

Terra’s favorite stories growing up always have a hero taking off on an adventure, rescuing those who need help, defeating malicious entities that seek to wreak havoc. And yet none of those stories made him understand how much of a struggle it would take to endure such a feat. He’s lived his life not really knowing what made those heroes who they are. To hear her forgiveness is when it clicked. They are heroic because it justifies their existence, as much as hearing her relief justifies his own.

“I’ve missed you, too, you have no idea how badly.” Hearing this makes her stir, as if it means the world to her.

They rock back and forth in their embrace, neither making a move to separate from the other.

“I thought that no one wanted to come find me.” She sniffles.

His eyes snap open at such a strange statement. He has forgotten where they are, and how much danger they are still in. Surrounded by wheat stalks as tall as they are, with a faint moonlight meters away.

Terra finally lets go of the embrace and moves her to face him. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, sounding incredibly tired like she’s on her last leg. She has one firm grip on his upper arm, as if terrified of letting go. “It’s this place-”

“It gets to you,” he nods, holding a hand to her face, wiping the tears falling out with his thumb. It’s strange seeing her cry.

The tears that keep flowing are stragglers, her eyes abused by such sadness. Her hair is slightly frizzy, the bags under her eyes sag too much, and her face is so relaxed he can tell she probably doesn’t know how to smile anymore. Not to mention that her skin is paler than he remembers it to be.

And he realizes they’ve been gazing at each other for some time without saying anything. He should really say something. Profound. Or honest. Something heartfelt as he continues to hold her face. Anything.

“You look terrible,” is what he settles on.

Her eyes flicker and blink for a moment, registering what he has just said. The edge of her mouth twitches, like it’s an alien movement. Her brows furrow in confusion, but then release into contentment. She chuckles, and it sounds worn out. Small at first, and she pauses. Then she giggles again, her hand reaching to hold his wrist.

“Terra,” she says in between tiny breaths, as if this is all too taxing of an activity. “I don’t remember the last time I laughed.”

If he can come face to face with Kingdom Hearts, to meet his mother for the first time, to see the Master again – he’ll tell them there is finally a good reason to keep him alive.

She smiles and it reaches her eyes. Leaning into his hand, holding it between her cheek and her own, she gives him a sympathetic shrug. “I’m sorry you’re now stuck with me in the darkness.”

“As if being stuck with you is such a bad thing,” he says through a scoff, and then regrets it. He shouldn’t make light of her suffering, and yet he can’t help but feel that it would have never been so difficult for her if he was here with her the entire time. “Either way, I opened a Door to Light here. I’m getting you out.”

The smile fell, and her eyes widen. It’s clear she doesn’t believe it at first, but she knows him well enough to understand that he’d never lie to her like this. He’s excited, grinning as he watches her contemplate his message.

It’s like giving someone a surprise gift, eagerly waiting to see their joy when they open it. He nods at her, nearly in laughter as she starts to smile. “It’s true,” he says. “You’re leaving this place.”

She leans toward him, placing a hand on his chest. “Now?”

“Yes.” It doesn’t matter how many times he’ll have to say it. He’ll say it as often as he needs, just to make sure she understands. Just to see the sparks of eagerness in her eyes.

“And we’ll find Ven?”

What is supposed to be a sharp inhale he manages to slow down so he doesn’t seem flustered. Xehanort is listening. But he can’t let her know yet that there is danger. Not now. He holds her by the biceps, and reassures her in a way so he can change the subject. “Definitely. We’ll all be together again soon. But first we have to get you out of here. We can talk about everything later.”

She clasps his palm with hers, and squeezes tightly. The look on her face is indescribable, like someone who has been on the execution block has just been told that her future is guaranteed safe. “Lead the way.”

So they jog together, hand in hand, like they used to do as children. Every excursion through the mountains, the caves they explored, the creeks they discovered - they were always to be conjoined through their hands. This habit hasn’t faded in the years they have grown together, and while they are old enough that they don’t have to follow such a strict buddy system anymore, the hands will still come together in the most uncertain moments: when they get lost; when visibility is poor; when they are scared; when it rains hard; when they are traversing dangerous terrain – very much like the Realm of Darkness, when being separated could mean a permanent eternity apart.

“Do you know how we’ll get out?” she asks.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to trace my steps back…” The Realm might as well have changed the layout by now, hoping to keep them in. “But I have friends waiting for us. We’ll be okay. I’m thinking I’ll just conjure a door from within, out of the darkness around us. It’s how I got in, anyway.”

She barely pauses before replying. “I have a friend waiting for me at the beach. I told him I wouldn’t take long in my routine walk.”

Terra chuckles to himself. Making friends in the Realm of Darkness. Of course, that’s so Aqua. “We’ll bring him with us. Don’t worry.”

They head downhill, through the shorter wheat stalks until they reach grassy foothills that level off as the beach gets closer.

Aqua grips his hand and keeps herself still, nearly yanking him backwards. “Terra, wait.”

The caution in her voice is loud. But there is nothing around them. “What is it?”

A rumble, which is soft at first but creeps ever closer with a sickening speed that makes his hair stand on edge. The ground shakes like it wants to throw them off their feet. Through it bursts a pillar of Heartless, squirming all over each other and spiraling as if to act as one tremendous force. The darkness emanating from them is massive, and without his armor, Terra feels the nausea overpowering him. This tower can’t be an easy one to defeat. He wraps his arms around her, for protection.

“Aqua,” he warns, hinting that the best course of action is to run.

“We have to.” She pushes through his elbow, summoning their Master’s Keyblade and beginning a sprint, ready to attack. Determined. Quick to react. Aqua. She reacts to this thing with evades that come so easily to her, she must have been fighting it for quite some time now.

Which means that running away won’t do a damn thing for them.

The tower has a sickening exertion to its attacks, easily breaking through his reflecting barriers. Since it keeps itself suspended in the air, his grounded techniques aren’t much use.

But she’s spectacular. Like a swan flying through the air, summoning trails of ice to skid and keep up pace with the enemy. She has built herself to be a Master in ways he has never expected, with choreographies that resonate with resistance and endurance. She dances with the light that shines through the Keyblade, building power until she and the area around her is bathed in it, with a force so blinding, and yet so beautiful, it keeps the tower at bay.

Sometimes.

As mesmerizing as she is, she shouldn’t be fighting this alone anymore.

He scurries to place himself under the Heartless tide, lifting his free hand up into the air, and focuses on the air pressure in between. Making all those particles combust exactly the way Xemnas would do it. With every explosion that comes, let there be another, until they swallow each other… until the tide has to pass through massive destruction when it travels, because it’s too late for it to turn around and avoid it anymore. With her in the air, she skids across ice suspended in the air and attacks with shockwaves from above – the two best friends squeezing this monstrosity right between their blows.

It retaliates – against her. She falls to the ground and rolls, and he stops his work immediately. Sliding over to her, he anticipates the tide as it turns and lunges toward them, which will probably take them both in one clean sweep.

He raises his palms from the ground up, summoning a barrier of nothingness as it stands tall and erect, and holds it as the tide crashes into it. Electricity separates some of the Heartless from one another, but it’s a terrible wall to keep up. The tide itself is too heavy and it nearly breaks it. He feels her hands on his biceps, leaning into him, as if to help him keep it up. He focuses on spreading those electric waves, to keep hurting this menace.

It backs off, and he can relax – for now at least. It circles back for another go around, and the thought of it even coming after her – that’s it.

He commands his Keyblade to warp and expand, setting itself as a canon that he props onto his shoulder. It will take all the energy he has in him, and he’ll probably won’t be able to walk anymore in this state when Xehanort wants to break free so badly, but it will do. For her.

The canon conjures a piercing, fiery light within, and with a yell, he exerts all of it into the tide, effectively breaking it apart and scaring it away, leaving the seldom welcomed stillness of quiet. He collapses onto his hands, his headache threatening to split his skull into two, as he whispers to himself that he’ll be okay. The pain will go away. He just needs time. Keep awake. For her.

Aqua crouches next to him, holds him by the forearm and gives his palm a gentle squeeze.

“That was impressive,” she says. He tries to retort that he’s learned new things along the way, but his heaving is still too much. “You okay?” She touches his face and he leans into her hand, nearly kissing it but stopping himself short, rolling his lips inward as he tries to practice self-control.

He takes several breaths until they slow down, and she patiently waits for him. She seems calm, collecting herself so quickly after such an intense fight. To think she has been doing this for twelve years and he can barely manage one night. That he succumbs to weakness in this place so easily.

“You’ve always been stronger than me,” he says with a chuckle that hurts. Not from the soreness, but from admitting how much better she is than him at everything.

“Terra, please,” she scoffs, massaging his forearm. Her voice is tired. “When we would arm wrestle, I always had to use two hands.”

“You even pushed with the weight of your entire body. You’d still lose.” He smirks, and she grins back. How grateful he is that they can talk as if time hasn’t passed for them, teasing each other like the Mark of Mastery Exam has never happened.

He should really summon his armor right now, with such a massive headache looming over him. But her touch – he can’t pull himself away from it. As if the grace of her fingers is the mark of light, melting away his concerns and dulling the pain throbbing in his scalp. He leans forward close to her, nearly touching her forehead with his. Even when it’s this dark, looking at her is the most calming feeling he could ever experience. She’s brighter than the moon. At least to him.

“There’s so much I want to tell you,” he says, wondering if desperation is making him choose this moment to confess. “We have to talk. About what happened. About us…” With that last one, his voice hitches. It’s terrifying, more so than the Heartless tide, to talk about where the two of them stand. “About the Master.”

She flinches at the mention of Eraqus, closing her eyes and taking a breath to calm herself. “I know. We have a lot to catch up on. But… I want to do it with a clean mind. Away from the darkness, you know? I just don’t want to spend another minute here. Please…”

That last word comes out as a whisper, her eyes pleading. She grips his arm tighter, and he realizes that she needs constant reassurance, as if she still has a hard time believing she’ll ever leave this rotten place.

He bites his lip, wanting to kick himself for being so selfish. “Of course, your freedom comes first.”

A relief passes over her as though she’s been anticipating bad news and has been given mercy instead. She throws his arm around her shoulders, having him use her as support in order to stand up.

“You’re going to love Traverse Town,” he says, noticing as they walk together that she again has a small smile to face, her cheeks plumping. He rests his head on hers, and she gives him a gentle nudge.

“Where?”

“I came from there. It’s a beautiful city, the kind you’d want to take a vacation in. The cuisine is delicious, and they have these colored lights that shine every night…” It’s perfect. When she’s free, she’ll eat. And sleep, most importantly. And by those beautiful lights that switch between color and white, he’ll give her gifts. Or if not, just laughs. Then he’ll tell her how he feels, and hope for the best.

The sand makes it harder to take steps, but she keeps a solid support for him. The waves here are gentle and unimposing. He can’t believe there is anything that is this placid in this Realm, but it sounds relaxing. The moon hovers just above the horizon, nearly swallowed by the water. It is so bright, it might as well be its own door to the other side. Funny, two days ago he stood on a beach in Destiny Islands, wishing that he could take Aqua to see the ocean. They might as well be gazing upon opposites ends of the same body of water.

She leaves him to sit on a boulder, but their need to touch each other lingers so much that they only let go when both of their arms are outstretched, her fingers gliding off of his. A man a short distance away in a black cloak sits, watching the waves dance. She tells him that it’s time to go – they can finally be free. Her friend is here. They’re going to be okay.

She keeps taking desperate glances back toward Terra, as if he’ll disappear in between. And yet, a small smile never leaves her face.

From the sound of the man’s voice, he is older, and he begs to be allowed a wee bit of time to stand up. For the sake of his back, he’s been sitting here for far too long. He leans on her for support until he’s on both of his feet, and then turns to face Terra.

“That man,” he says, his deep voice getting slightly louder, as if to caution her of an enemy. “We mustn’t go with him.”

That voice. A blonde beard. Terra shivers, and the muscles through his arms tense.

Ansem.

He doesn’t know why he knows that name, and he’s too scared to try to understand.

Aqua tries to reason with him, tries to say that this is a friend who has grown up with her since childhood – but Terra wonders if she’s fooling herself just as much. Maybe the headache that keeps coming back will always be inevitable, and he’s just delaying what will happen. Witlessly.

“A clever trick to play on a vulnerable girl, Xehanort,” Ansem spits, holding her arm as if to try to keep her at bay.

“I’m not Xehanort,” Terra mumbles loudly, his tongue unable to produce sharp enough sounds to articulate clear words. And it terrifies him even more. The headache roars and massaging his temples doesn’t work. His ears whistle so intensely, he’s afraid he’ll go deaf.

Aqua shoves the old man’s grip off of her, scampering towards her friend. “Terra, tell me how I can help you.” She holds onto his arms, trying to get him to sit straight.

He grabs onto her arms. Too tightly, maybe, making her jump. “I’ve left the door open for you,” he manages to say, praying that she can understand him. “Don’t give up. Keep going. We’ll be together-”

He yells from the pain, the headache spreading to his neck. The whistling stops, and all is silent. Eerily silent. He cannot hear his own breathing. Or the waves. Or her. He attempts to make sounds, feeling the vibration in his vocal chords, but he doesn’t know if he’s actually saying any words. Until the vibration ceases, and all commands to speak stop working.

She looks terrified. Brave Aqua, her eyes wide and her lips pursed, shaking her head as if denying what she is seeing. He wants to tell her that he’s scared, too. That she isn’t alone.

He digs into his pocket to pull out his orange Wayfinder, and presses it into her palm until she grabs hold of it.

He has to tell her. Somehow. He interlaces his fingers with hers in her other hand, holding it upward in between the two of them. Coaxing her to come a little closer. He cups her cheek, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. And he stays, letting his lips feel her skin, breathing in her hair, relaxing as much as possible as he savors this moment for as long as it can last.

Until he cannot smell or feel the sensation in his lips or fingers anymore. He opens his eyes. At least he can still see.

The pain, it has also completely subsided, his whole body going numb. No more headache. No more soreness. She gazes into him, moving her mouth to say something but he can’t hear what.

He doesn’t like the look she is giving him, and he can’t apologize or ease her worries. He searches the beach, looking for any sign of hope. Any sign of light.

And there, he sees it. A bird with a short beak, waddling on the rocky shore, though its reflection can’t be found in the water. It shines a soft, white light, just like the rabbit. Its feathers ruffle, a crown briefly standing up before it shakes itself calm.

A cockatoo.

Ven, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be asleep.

Sleep.

It sounds so welcoming right now, to let the exhaustion take over and he can then heal. Not that he has a choice in the matter. It will take him over, letting him drift into ecstasy, the best slumber he’ll have all week. The last image he sees is the cockatoo flapping its wings. He falls, unable to feel himself hitting the ground. Just a never-ending drop, and it’s blissful.

I didn’t get to tell her how I felt about her. That’s fine. I’ll do it when I wake up.

A/N: NO IT ISN’T OVER. I’ll say it one more time, but there is a sequel to this. It wasn’t planned that way at the beginning. But after so many internal debates with myself over the summer, I’ve decided that it was just so much more organized to split my story in two. This was always the halfway point. The next chapter literally picks up where this leaves off.

That being said, I want to thank my readers from the bottom of my heart. It’s such a strange thing - even though the story isn’t over, I am burying my baby under this title, which has stuck with me for almost a year now. It is like creating a void, and I hope that the sequel can fill it. For all those readers, who have been with me since the beginning, who have discovered this somewhere along the middle of its journey, and who have just joined on the adventure - but especially to those who have stuck it out to the end, THANK YOU SO MUCH. Your support has kept this girl alive. Literally.

As for the sequel, I’ll see if I can salvage what I can from KH3 to adapt to it. “A Powerful Enough Dream” will simply be a very divergent AU. I’m sure some of you are wondering what that would even look like, especially since I maintain the position that I wish Aqua fell to darkness out of her own volition. I posted a preview called “Sonne” on AO3 exclusively to show what that looks like!! (I’m sorry I won’t post links directly to this, I’m scared that Tumblr is going to hide my post). If people are receptive enough to “Sonne,” then I’ll consider continuing this story.

For those of who are disappointed that Terra hasn’t met Dark Aqua (which I have warned that I wasn’t going to go there with this story), I have written a new fic called “The Ocean On His Shoulders” that honors that. <3

[kakuriyo-translations]

Chapter 3: The Young Master Nine Tails Fox

Chapter 3: The Young Master Nine Tails Fox

65. Ginji the nine-tailed fox said the owner of Tenjinya hires Ayakashi who all have their own job respectively with executive like titles. Master Ogre God. The Young Master Nine Tails Fox. Front Desk Spider. The First Hostess. Young Snow Woman Hostess. Front desk manager. Kitchen Daruma. Old Kappa and the bath care takers. Itachi that manage the gardens and Tanuki that take care of slippers. It's possible there could be other executive positions but these are the only ones I've heard of.

66. I bothered them, in spite of this I still had to get a job. “I don’t want a human girl like you working here.” I had talked to O-Ryo, a snow woman with light blue hair that was cut into a short bob. O-Ryo could be described as a glossy beauty with a glamorous body. However there is a sense that her chest could be missing something. She is the top hostess, making her the young-hostess. The three faceless sisters and the young-hostess had lead me to a room of some sort. O-Ryo looks at her self in a large mirror as she applies some makeup. She stares at me through the mirror, finally she breathes in and takes a big breath out. “Anyway, a poor and smelly human girl like you is a bride candidate for the Master? I can’t believe your looks could satisfy him very much.”

“What?” O-Ryo-san had remarked coolly. I don’t care about satisfying that Ogre, not at all. O-Ryo continued to apply powder to her cheeks.

67. “Let me tell you something, the Master would not want you, Shiro’s granddaughter in a high position. Anyway, I don’t think he’d want a dull figured, unattractive person like you to be his wife. I will not forgive you for acting so impertinent here. Being taken in so generously by the Master and trampling his kindness.”

“What? I was brought here without my consent.” This was a pure abduction. That much was clear. However O-Ryo-san’s reaction was like everyone else’s.

“That can’t be helped, after all Shiro-san had a large debt to this inn. It’s a relatives duty to take on that debt, is it not?”

“That’s..”

“But why is it that Shiro-san seemed to leave it to a poor person like you. Shiro-san was a wonderful person but seemed caught up in a few affairs. Anyway, I will stay devoted to the Master.” Whilst she continues to dye her cheeks O-Ryo-san suddenly goes into work mode. I could see her blue eyes shine through the reflection of the mirror as she stared into the vanity. “Good thing about being a hostess here is that you must always look pretty or else you’ll get complaints. So you’ll be getting complaints from customers. If a complaint comes in, you have to go apologise. Since you are such an ugly human girl you wouldn’t want to go apologise or else you may end up somewhere unexpected.”

68. The things she said, are so horrible, they made me tremble almost fearfully. I was driven out of the room into the cool corridor. There were lots of Ayakashi in the hall way all staring at me as they start whispering to each other, rumours I’m sure. Bad ones probably. Everyone here must be an enemy. The surrounding gazes sting, I felt awkward, I was afraid. No matter where I go everyone hated me. However, the three faceless sisters approached me. “Are you alright?”

“Hey, am I really such an ugly woman?” I said with anger hinting at my voice as I inquired about such a vivacious thing.

“No no! The granddaughter of Shiro-san is absolutely beautiful!” Said the smallest sister in a panic.

“It’s true! O-Ryo is just a little irritated as she thinks of herself as the Master’s mistress.”

“Now Plum.” Bamboo whacks her little sister across the head.

“Eh? She’s the Master’s Mistress?”

“Oh Aoi-san, O-Ryo says such things without permission, in any case it’s false. I don’t like it when she says those things very much, but do you?”

69. “No, I don’t mind at all.” I said in a serious tone but the three sisters still continue to panic. The Eldest daughter of the three coughs, then continues. “But Aoi. You are very beautiful, but since you’re from the Apparent Realm there’s a looming sense of incapability.”

“The Apparent Realm?”

I had picked at my thin light blue dress that I was wearing. Although it was ruined yesterday from when I was wearing it, this morning it was placed at the bottom of my room completely dry and clean. Well, having such a floaty dress isn’t of much use anymore. But, this type of dress was the number one trend during spring. I’d like to say I was quite fashionable and cheery at University, but in the world of Ayakashi such a cheerful trend is non-existent and useless.

Next, I had peered into the bathhouses. Tenjinya in the north eastern land of Hiduyo is built on a famous hot spring resort named Onikomi Onsen. Because of that the bathhouses are divided into indoor and outside baths, the springs flowed luxuriously.

70. The hot springs here are supposed to be effective for skin and scars. The men’s baths were managed by the old kappa’s whilst the women’s were taken care of by the wet girls. Ladies are forbidden to work in the men’s bathrooms. I wanted to become one of the bath care takers, so I decided to ask quietly if I could work here. Shizuna had long black hair, she rolled up her kimono with her long slender arms as he continued to polish the floors. The atmosphere in the bathhouse felt as if it was raining. Long black hair covered her face, so it was impossible to read her expression. I could hardly even see her eyes through the gaps of her hair, although she seems very cute. As I approached I could feel my skin going paler and paler. “Hello?” I said with shivering cold sweats.

“Oh, it’s you. I’m sorry I’m sorry but I have been told from the First Hostess not to hire you.”

”Eh?”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” Scared of waiting for my words she apologizes quickly.

71. The mop she was holding in her hands seemed very shaky. It seems as if I’m not fortunate enough to be able to work here either, I nod and decide to leave. I step out beyond the door frames of the bathroom and into the corridor. “What do I do now?” I asked the three sisters waiting in the hallways. The three sisters said they were already aware of what Shizuna’s answer was.

“Shizuna is a very hard working person and quite a gentle girl, but what she did was cowardly.”

“Yes, but since the bath house is under the control of the First Hostess, her order is final and absolute.”

“It is said that the First hostess in particular is keeping a close eye on the Master’s fiancé as her position could be at stake.” I give a long sigh after hearing Bamboo’s words. I thought that the Young Hostess was bad but it seems the First Hostess is probably the real threat. I wonder to what extent she’ll take such a thing.

72. I decided to go into the garden. There is a wide garden around Tenjinya’s main hall, it’s rather large. After spring a lot of cherry blossom trees fill the garden, the petals that had fallen onto a path where you could take a walk. There are so many flowers blooming. Koi fish swam elegantly in the pond below, swimming swiftly into the stream and across the bridge. For a small moment a strong gust of wind blew up my dress. The path was no longer filled with cherry blossoms like it was a while ago.

“What just happened?”

“The gardens are patrolled by the kaminari they almost never show up during the day as they’re as fast as wind. They clean up the gardens as well. In the evenings they watch the inn and the garden, they start their work immediately.” It sounds amazing, almost ninja like.

“Is it impossible to talk to them?”

“It’s impossible for me not to talk to you!”

“Ha ha ha.” I looked around the garden looking for a Kaminari, but the garden is still lonely, I cannot even find one. But when I think about it, a job like this would require considerable fighting power. A power that I do not have and would be reckless to pursue, besides, they didn’t need any power from someone like me.

73. It’s depressing, the only place where I could possibly work is the front desk, which is already occupied by that spider. Just thinking about his stupid face annoyed me, in fact, he had annoyed me since I first met him. He hated me as much I hated him. Of course, he would not let me work at the reception! “Is working in the kitchen really that difficult?”

“Oh no! Let’s not go to the kitchens, ladies are forbidden from working in there. Besides, the head Daruma is already a magnificent cook, but his dishes are very old and traditional. Customers who complain about the taste and style of his cooking at Tenjinya normally aren’t allowed to stay at this Inn ever again however.”

“Eh? So he’s protecting his traditions? How chivalrous.” My Grandpa has taken me to many inns and I only know a few that continued to stick to traditions with such a resolute attitude. However, it’s not a bad thing so to say. Pine seemed to think it was quite sad.

“Okamiya cuisine is one of the highlights at Tenjinya, but when a dishes taste does not change for hundreds of years it seems to become boring and awkward to continue to eat it.”

74. “Yes yes, different dishes are always coming in and out of this world. So when Tenjinya’s dishes remain unchanged and still taste the same people start to acquire a bad sense for the food. There have always been customers that don’t enjoy the food however.”

“Plum!” Bamboo shoves her sister.

“Since we don’t have mouths, I don’t think it was necessary to say such things Plum, nor did you have to push her Bamboo.” The three sisters who have no faces at all and no expressions, I’m starting to see their personalities. “I haven’t eaten that type of cuisine before! So, I’d be interested in trying it.” All of a sudden, I’ve become interested in cooking here at Tenjinya and in their cuisine.

“If you became the Master’s bride you would be able to eat any food that you want!” Pine casually mentions me becoming the Master’s bride. That reminds me, these three girls are indeed hostesses under the Master. “I adamantly refuse.” I raised my shoulders in disagreement.

The three sisters gathered in a circle and complained, “Wow.”

“Well if that’s the case, the only place for you is probably the front desk.” The Tsuchigomo which is one of the front desk managers is named Akatsuki, so one of the three sisters tells me of course. When I said I wanted to work, I didn’t imagine it’d be this hard.

“Akatsuki would absolutely never let Aoi-san work there.”

“I understand that somehow but, I just want to find work, somehow.”

“Aoi-san, what a surprise!”

75. That shady looking front desk manager. “Oi!” I raise my shoulders and turn around to look at the owner of that angry voice. I see a haori crest with a circle drawn representing heaven on it and a coat with an expensive appearance. Along with a figure of a very tall man. That red-bean coloured hair is somewhat amazing as it gradually gets redder and redder. It seemed like he had a bad complexion on his face. For some reason I could tell that this was indeed the face of that spider, I was convinced that it was. “What are you doing here human? The customers will be here soon and you’ll only get in the way you idiotic girl.”

“Uhhh…. Aka-”

“Do not try and address me by my name! Do not speak to me.” Before I even had the chance to call out his name, he started to yell. There were many Ayakashi at the reception area, the Tanuki are already taking care of the slippers whilst the room hostesses are also there. They all watch on at the sight of the Tsuchigomo yelling at me. Among them was the young hostess who gently pokes her tongue out at me. I thought she was frustrating, but as I stand here I face the Tsuchigomo in front of me with all my might. “It seems that the Master is letting you return Shiro’s debt by working, however you’re merely a human girl. Tenjinya has no benefits in employing a filthy girl like you!”

76. “Well, I won’t know if I don’t try will I?!” Despite that Tsuchigomo trying to pressure me, I responded with anger in my voice. “What are you on about? No one here is willing to accept you! There’s already proof of that! Give up and just leave this place. Your face really reminds me of Shiro’s, cocky and annoying. I hate it.”

“Well then, I think you should be complaining about that face that you were born with!”

“Ehh? Shout your mouth! You dare stand in front of me and speak like that. I will eat you to your bones Granddaughter of Shiro.” I was standing still trying to keep my nice composure but my anger was threatening to pour down like rain to some extent. I have myself to blame for holding back, but I’m afraid that if I let out these emotions they’ll be smothered into fine particles of dust, taken away by the wind. “Oh Akatsuki could you please stop. Aoi-san is the Master’s fiancé after all.”

“Fine, I won’t eat her.” Pine, Bamboo and Plum immediately stand in a straight line but the Spider remains his ground. “What is that awful and annoying sound?”

77. The sound could be heard resonating throughout the Inn, multiple employees gathered. Eventually the Tsuchigomo said, “Be patient.” As he stretched out into  the form of the spider as the air remained tense. Long legs surrounded me. For some reason my body seemed to get stronger. Cold sweat dripped down my face. “Welcome.” But the air seemed to remain pleasant for the Ayakashi as they had started to form a cheery line. Thanks to that the spider seemed to release the tenseness of the situation as it’s spine stretched out and he went back to normal. He hurried over back to the reception desk finally leaving me alone. “Hello, you’re the first customers of the day, so I’ll be checking you in. I’m serving as the Front Desk Manager for you. I’m Akatsuki of the Tsuchigomo, if there is a problem please feel free to ask me about it! Well, here is your room key, please enjoy.” It was if he was almost a different person as he shines a bright smile at the first customers of the day as he offered his assistance. The first customers of the day were a cat like old couple who had been idly walking around. I continue to watch the spider work as he acts like an entirely different person.

78. “Akatsuki is very hard working as the front desk manager, the Master has the most confidence in him more than anyone. It seems like he loves working at Tenjinya more than anything else.”

“Wow, his resentment of Shiro-sama and distrust of humans beings seems to be very strong.”

“This place is thriving now.” The three sisters sighed as they held their cheeks. It felt as if I was lost in this Inn during the time I was just idly watching that Spider work. “Oi, human.” A small demon who was probably as tall as my waist was standing by my side. He handed me my bag which was in the room I had stayed in yesterday. That room was originally a luxury suite, the three sisters informed me that I was most likely not considered a guest anymore and thus it was no longer my room. It seems that they had to resume their usual jobs, they lowered their heads towards me as they left. Of course the Inn has already opened for business so the Ayakashi employees will be busy. Right now I don’t have time to think about work. I wonder where I could possibly stay in this Inn? I walk over to an unpopular place in the main building.

79. The path was long straight and dark, being on the other side from the front. I came over here to escape but many of the rooms down here are ones Tenjinya are not in using, it’s like a connected passage. What’s creepy is the amount of white arrows that have been decorated all over the wall. I don’t know where these arrows will take me, but I unconsciously decided to follow them. I feel so miserable, I never thought that I’d be so hated here and that I would not be needed. Whether I’m competent enough to work or not, it’s painful being turned down after trying so hard. I can already see that Ogre’s hateful eyes as he smiles triumphantly. It was impossible to return the debt. That Ogre’s eyes. I remember he eventually said that I would become an Ogre’s bride if the debt did not disappear. Now that I think about it, if I had married the Ogre with no debt involved it would have been a nice story possibly. As I thought about such a weak idea I continued to wander down the dark corridor feeling depressed. At the end of the corridor was a sliding door with light leaking out of a dimly lit gap, all the white arrows seemed to point to this. I opened the door without having any difficulties.

80. The scent of blooming flowers were coming from behind the sliding door. “Wow, a courtyard.” The courtyard seems very quiet, a wooden corridor with a roof over the top continues through it and into the gardens. This all seems very interesting. Eventually I pass over the bridge and on to the stone bedding. A stone path then continued. I was able to admire the entirety of the courtyard whilst I walked through. Pine trees, blue autumn leaves, gravel rocks all arranged with precision. I felt at peace in this area. It is an atmospheric courtyard, but it’s also very quiet too, but not scary quiet. “A Willow tree?” As I continued to walk down the path I could see a large weeping willow tree that stood idle in the open space. The swaying branches instil a sense of silence and makes it feel as if time itself has stopped. The branches movements were reminiscent of that of a ghost’s, but that type of atmosphere seemed perfect for an Inn. At the bottom of the willow tree stood a building, the roof reminded me of a private home. It was small, but still splendid none of the less. It was different from the style of the main building, but it felt somewhat lonely. The atmosphere in this place felt very nostalgic. I thought that perhaps it could be a shop, but there was no sign to indicate that. However, there was a single door open.

81. As I peered in, no one was in sight and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I thought it might have been a store room, but it seems as if that’s not the case, there’s a counter top like the one you would see at a bar. “Well, this is alright. Everything inside the Inn is really fancy and everyone hates me. Finding a job seems to become more of an obstacle by the second, I guess I’ll stay here for a while.” I placed down my luggage in the far corner then sat down at the counter, I immediately become hungry. Yesterday I had only had a late-night snack and I have not eaten anything today. I wish there was some sort of store around here, there’s nothing to eat here. Even if there was one however I have no money. I’m so hungry, and when I become aware of the fact, it makes me shudder. Hunger is a terrible, terrible pain for me. “Huh, Aoi-san? I didn’t know you were here.” Suddenly a voice caught my attention from the counter. It was a young man with silver hair and a refreshing appearance. He wore a haori coat that made it seem like he worked at this place. “Who are you?” I asked.

82. “Who is it? Well, it’s me! Ginji.”

“Ehh? Really?” Ginji is the nine tailed fox that brought a late snack to my room last night. If you look closely you can see fox ears and a tail. He had a gentle look with a smile on his face, the appearance of an Ayakashi. Ginji-san smiled and clapped his hands together. “Oh, that’s right. You told me that appearance of a child and woman were just two of your forms.”

“Yes, this is my normal form.” Ginji-san seemed surprised to see the interesting state I was in.

“Where is this exactly?”

“Well, this place is in quite a remote location so it’s hard to find.”

“Ah I see, well this is the only place I could go, I have nowhere else.” I rested my elbow on the counter. Ginji-san wiggles his fox ears quickly as he tries to think of something to say.

“Ahhhh.”

“Hey, what is this place?”

“Ha, ha, well, I guess you could say it’s like an Ogre being inside a demon?”

“Here? Ogre in the demon?” When I had inquired Ginji-san about the matter, he responded in such a strange way. It seems he may have been troubled by it.

83. “Well it once was a tea house that had a very good reputation for Ayakashi who enjoyed the taste. But, the one who was running the tea house eventually left this inn and it was closed.”

“Well, there’s a tea room.”

“Yes, but after the tea house it was a brisk struggle and no matter what was put here it always failed. I made it into a souvenirs shop and into a gaming hall but none of them succeeded. Even if I try my best to take care of this place, it always fails. I was told I was an inviting looking fox, but as you can see it’s very lonesome.”

“Being an inviting looking fox is a good thing!”

“As it’s in such a place, customers have trouble finding it and employees come across it by accident.” Ginji-san who looked extremely sad placed the basket he was holding on to a table.

“When I had started this month, up until a few days ago this with a small restaurant, but the cook who I had employed from the outside injured his arm. So I was looking for an alternative chef. Again, a lot of people think this place is no good. So it’s set to be demolished next month.”

“Is that so? I guess something must be wrong then.”

“Yes, but there are still left over ingredients in the freezer that I have to clean up.”

84. “There’s refrigerators in this world?”

“Would you like to see it?” Ginji-san beckoned me behind the counter. There was a wooden refrigerator. It seems that the shape was copied from the other world and was arranged into something new. Looking into the refrigerator there was a space covered in thin ice and film.

“This ice is regularly purchased from a Snow Woman in town from a long established ice shop.”

“Ayakashi are quite qualified.”

“Yes, most Ayakashi here make use of their abilities and go into a business of some sort. This is different from ordinary ice, the water the Snow Woman uses is able to adjust its temperature, so it doesn’t easily melt.”

“Ehhh? That sounds funny.” The fridge is properly divided into a freezer and refrigerator, the coldness of the ice seems to vary. It felt very smooth. It was really cool to know there was a functional refrigerator here, however I was concerned about the ingredients inside. There were unusual looking Chinese cabbages and radishes along with burdock eggs and some mushrooms. There were also two pieces of meat in the freezer.

“What is this meat? At a glance it looks like chicken and pork.”

“It is chicken and pork. Mainstream meat is available even here in the Hidden Realm, although, I can’t serve it to customers anymore, but I don’t want to throw it out. I was thinking I should unfreeze it and cook it for my lunch.”

85. “Ahahaha, I see, that sounds very important.” I looked at the contents of the basket Ginji-san had set down. Carrot, potatoes that haven’t been peeled yet, eggplants, onion and more.

“What shall we do with this?”

“Well, I was going to take it to the main kitchen but the head chef is quite particular about food and ingredients so they may be discarded since they aren’t seasonal products at the moment.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“Yeah but it’s better than eating it all alone by myself, because that isn’t very meaningful. Besides, the only thing I can make is inari sushi.” I looked into the basket of vegetables then back at Ginji-san.

“Hmm. That sushi from yesterday, did you make that Ginji-san?”

“Yes, but I’m afraid it probably wasn’t that delicious.”

“Nonsense! In fact they were some of my favourites, they were truly something. They had a modest sweetness, they weren’t miserable or horrible at all! For me they were simply irresistible.” I was almost buzzy thinking about the deliciousness of the inari sushi from last night. Ginji-san seemed very surprised from my praise, although it may have come off as a bit intense

86. I sneakily try and change the topic. “Well, the inari sushi here is the same, food from the Apparent Realm is pretty similar to food from this world.”

“Ah, I see. Well I guess each others cultures pass us by without noticing. Many dishes have been brought over from the Apparent Realm. That’s where inari sushi is from.”

“I didn’t know that.” Among all the dishes I have ever casually eaten they have all been from the Apparent Realm, but now I wonder. Have any dishes from the Hidden Realm been brought to the Apparent Realm? “Ah, that’s right, Ginji-san, have you had lunch yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“If it’s okay, I’d let to use this kitchen if you’d let me. Of course I’ll clean up afterwards but I want to make you something in order to thank you for the inari sushi yesterday.”

“Eh, of course. You don’t have to though, are you sure?”

“Don’t be silly, of course I’m sure. I can cook and you look blown away from tiredness. Oh and if I do cook, do you think I could have just a little bit?” A ringing sound emerged from my stomach.

“Don’t worry that’s natural!” Ginji-san said in a hurry.

87. “Ginji-san, what type of food would you like to eat?”

“What type of food I want to eat?”

“Anything is ok as long as you have the seasonings and ingredients in this world.” When I look around the kitchen there seems to be a few seasonings such as soy, liquor, mirin, salt and sugar. There was also brown rice and miso. “Hm, then I’d like to eat Omurice.” (Omelette rice)

“Omurice?” What an unexpected order. Ginji-san a grown adult wants omurice.

“I have heard that there is a food in the Apparent Realm called omurice that resembles inari sushi!”

“………” I frown my face in defeat, I can only give in. I wonder if omurice is similar to sushi? No, maybe seasoned rice perhaps, although the idea of wrapping is kind of similar. “Omurice is a dish that normally children like to order.”

“Oh, then I will be a child!” Ginji-san disappears into a cloud of smoke and emerges as the figure of a small boy.

88. There was a very young boy with silver hair and a lovely smile. I start to prepare for the omurice. He shakes his ears and tails; this adorableness is my weakness. “Well, I know there’s rice but I’m not sure if there’s anything to cook it in. It may take time, but the meat also has to be defrosted.”

“Ah, in this world our pots are spirit baskets, so the rice will cook in 5 minutes.”

“Spirit basket?”

“it’s like the pressure cooker of this world.” I only have an electric pressure cooker back home, it feels a little embarrassing. “It’s like a pot that uses spiritual energy, it’s slightly different from the pressure cooker from the Apparent Realm but it has the same effect none the less. Besides, this pot has been in the Hidden Realm since Ancient times and is mostly unique to elders.” Ginji-san then pointed to a round disk surrounded by cooking utensils in the kitchen. “Please put the frozen meat on this disk.”

“This?”

89. Pork, chicken and flock meat. They were all frozen as hard as rocks, when I put it on the disk Ginji-san called out, “Thaw!” The frozen meat was then enveloped in a purple flame wrapping around it, thawing in a few seconds. “Well, that thawed quickly, almost like a microwave.”

“Apart from the thawing of frozen meat, frozen foods can also be cooked from the wild fire in this disk. This instrument was confiscated from a mage and it has multiple functions. Thawing and heating, if you were to issue it an order it would listen.”

“Woah, the Hidden Realm is so strange, it’s different from the things in the Apparent Realm.” I’m extremely impressed with the cooking utensils that are unique to the Hidden Realm and their kitchen circumstances. Even though I thought of my own cooking technology to be superior, these seem to be just as good. I wash my hands so I can start cooking. “Ginji-san, this is clean right?”

“Yes, if an employee has used it beforehand chances are I would have washed it. There are also some kimono’s here for employees.”

“Really? I wonder if you could lend it to me.”

“Well of course, everything here is going to be destroyed or thrown out anyway.” Ginji-san who was sitting on a table stool in the form of a little boy jumped off and went into a back room. After a minute I heard him call out. “Aoi-san! Come over here.”

90. I went into the back room, which seemed like it was a rest room for employees. Ginji-san had taken out a rough looking kimono with a matcha colour and a white sash. “Are you sure this is alright?”

“Yes, thank you. That dress is a little too cheery and foreign for around here according to the Young Hostess.”

“Oh, well I guess O-Ryo-san is right.” What Ginji-san said was a little mean. Ginji-san exited the room after handing me the kimono. Luckily I knew how to put one on, after all my Grandfather had taught me how to many times. I guess Grandfather knew from the start I would end up in such a situation… Remembering such a thing saddens me. After I finished putting on the kimono I wanted to tie up my hair so it wouldn’t get in the way while I was cooking. I think it can be disturbing to have it out while cooking. Even if it’s only a cord, I need something to put my hair up with. In that moment I remembered that there was a black band in my university bag, I went out to the counter with the kimono on. “Wow, Aoi-san that yatsuri kimono is just right for you.”

“Thank you, but I can’t start cooking yet because my hair is in the way… Ah, I wonder if that band is in my university bag after all?”

91. I picked up my bag and opened it, whilst looking for the black band something had fallen out. “A hair ornament?” It had a camellia bud on it. In order to give the ogre food who I now know is the Master, I handed him a bento. When I got the bento box back, it was placed on top like a thank you item. “Hmm, isn’t that crimson crystal?”

“Crimson crystal?”

“It’s an extremely rare and expensive crystal which is able to move. Would you like me to tie your hair up with it?”

“Ginji-san, you know how to tie hair?”

“Yes, since one of my forms is a woman, I’ve practiced and studied womanly gestures.” Ginji-san then changed from the appearance of a little boy, into a woman. He stands behind me taking a comb from his belt and gently brushes with kind hands. He has a really feminine smell. Ginji-san is a little confusing, at first I thought he wanted omurice like a little boy, and now he wants to tie my hair like a woman. “Here you go, the hair ornament suits you well.”

92. When I looked at my figure in the hand held mirror I tilted it to see the bud of the camellia on the side. I wonder if it matched me or not. Now. Together with Ginji-san I was able to understand some of the similarities and differences between the Hidden Realm and Apparent Realm. I had added rice and water into the spirit basket, covering it then putting it over the fire. A cooking stove that uses spirit fire is just as efficient as one that uses electricity. I made sure the remaining ingredients were ready then prepared the seasoning. “Now, I don’t think there’s any ketchup here, I wonder if there is any tomatoes?” Although all the seasonings for Japanese style dishes seemed to be here, he didn’t have any ketchup. I thought about the flavours of the soy sauce, perhaps soy sauce and kyushu would closely resemble the flavour more than soy sauce and kanto? A soy sauce containing sugar and licorice. “Hm if that’s so I think I’ll do a Japanese style omurice with sweet soy sauce instead of ketchup. Even without it, you still wrap it in eggs, so it’s still omurice.” Perhaps I’m a little doubtful of if he’ll really enjoy my cooking or not. I hit my hand on the table briefly and give out a brief groan while looking at all the ingredients. Whenever I’m angry, the things that matter most to me when I’m cooking is making sure nothing is wasted. “Hey, Ginji-san I’ll still make you omurice but there’s so many ingredients here. So I wonder if it’d be ok for me to also make other dishes?”

93. “Eh? Are you willing to go that far? Of course, I’m grateful, however, there are lots of ingredients left and it’d be a waste to throw them out.”

“How about we use them to make a side dish and keep them for a while? I really feel like cooking right now. How about chicken’s meat? It seems like we can make something delicious using this soy sauce here.”

“I see. It looks good. I like it as well.” Ginji-san who’s sitting at the counter shakes his tails once.

“There’s pork loin too. We can make boiled pork and radish. Oh besides, we have miso too. So we

can make fried miso eggplant.”

“Wow that’s nice.”

“Well, I just queued the things I liked and wanted to eat. This is a side dish I always make.”

“Oh by the way, the Master likes fried miso eggplant as well.” As expected, Ginji-san brings up the topic of the Master. “Eh, is that so? That’s an unexpectedly common dish for someone like the Master to enjoy.”

“Well, it’s true that only high-class dishes are served at Tenjin-ya. But sometimes it’s unavoidable not to want to eat ordinary foods. However, our chef doesn’t make such dishes so by the Master’s request we sometimes go to the cafeteria wearing common people’s clothes.”

“Well, that’s surprising, I did think of him as an ogre who enjoys playing around.”

94. “There is no such thing. The Master himself is a serious person. However, this is also my favourite dish.  I wonder about what an ogre’s favourite food could be. Well it doesn’t matter either way. Let’s continue our work. If we carve some mushrooms and carrots, rice would be cooked by then. We should turn off the fire underneath the kettle and put it aside for a while. Next, we’ll peel the onions, potatoes, carrots and etc, then make scalloped potatoes and cut the chicken into bite sized ones.”

“Aoi-san do you dislike the Master?”

I was suddenly asked by Ginji-san who was sitting at the counter. He seemed anxious.

“Hey, that person is reluctantly trying to marry me without knowing anything about me. Turning a

human girl into a bride, not to mention he’s used the bento (lunch) made with love to bring me to

the hidden realm.”

All of a sudden Thinking about that ogre and remembering that time makes me angry. ‘It’s delicious,

Aoi ‘he staggered a bit, while eating a mouthful of food in a posture that indicated how hungry

he was at the time. Remembering that I was actually happy at the time, makes me laugh

 95.So I shook my head to get rid of the thought and opened the lid of the pot -which contained spirit

power- with emergency. The cooked rice smells really good.

“Wow.”

The steamed rice cooked plainly and looks glossy , made an unexpectedly admiring voice leak

out.

Even this rice seems delicious enough only with garlic and saliva.

However it’s now omurice. (omelette rice) Mix the rice using a wooden spoon so that the rice goes up and down and served the amount that you want in the bowl (duhhhhhh ;/ ) Next, we’ll heat the oil with a flat iron pan like a frying pan. ( too much cooking, not enough Odanna and Ginji) And we’ll stir-fry carved chicken, mushrooms and white leeks with salt and pepper (sighs) In addition, we’ll fry the rice whilst stirring it and adding salt, pepper and sweet soy sauce. Once it smells good, take it out and place it on a flat plate at the right timing. Next, we’re going to season the eggs with soup and put them in a heated pan ( ew ) Bake all the ingredients while stirring wrap the fried rice in eggs and shape the omelette rice. Taking a step from the counter Ginji-San says ‘ooo’ while his eyes are shining like a little boy. Well, he is a little boy to begin with. “Actually, I eat it with a sauce of tomatoes called ketchup (tysm for the information) but it does not seem to be in here in the hidden world. This is a Japanese style omurice.”

96.I placed the soft, fluffy and yellow omurice on a flat plate. I thought to myself if we look at this carefully it does resemble inari sushi. Just like Japanese hamburgers, I placed grated daikon and carved oba on top. By doing this , we can also see the broth made out of egg . ( ;| ) It’s a bit unusual and wicked (um, what? ) to use the egg in order to make an omelette , but it looks so fluffy and seems delicious. Also, the yellow colour is beautiful. Fried rice with pepper and soy sauce, along with good smell of fluffy egg makes me hungry. I put the food in front of Ginji-San, his eyes were wide open. "Yum! let’s dig in. I’m grateful for this food."

"Here you go, I have another work to attend to."

Even though I said that, I attentively took look sat Ginji-san who was looking at the omurice gently, omurice is a combination really worth looking at. He’s using chopsticks to eat the omurice while breaking down the daikon I was surprised by the fluffy texture, Ginji-san too looked like he’s trying this new texture by slowly taking it to his mouth and tasting it at first, but gradually he started eating it. Seeing him eat the food in his boyish figure while smiling and moving his tails, made me kind of happy. I let go of the though thinking it was not appropriate. I put a bottle of sauce next to the omurice obeying Ginji-san ‘s previous request.

97. “It’s delicious! Well this is a surprise, the seasoning is unexpectedly good! “

“I’m glad that is suits your taste, you know, my grandpa also liked omurice very much, how can I say this , it’s beautiful right ? “

“That’s right. It’s really good It doesn’t cost much and seems to be found in main shops if I’m right? “

“Huh?”

“Oh it isn’t so. Well, that’s what I’ve heard “

Ginji-san started eating silently again. Me on the other hand, since my stomach was full, I had started to make meat and potatoes with high speed in secret. It contains chicken meat and potatoes. In this case I only seasoned it with sugar, kerosene and sake. ( h a i ?? =___= ) Sauté chicken, add sauce and let it cook for a little more, and I’ll just throw chopped onions, carrots and potatoes and heat it for a while. Simple ingredients and seasoning. It's a short time specification, but my favourite recipe. “Ah, it’s done already “The good smell of potatoes made me smile. Well make sure that the element is on first and let it boil. Just because he was a small dealer in a driftwood, the equipment is good. With premium equipment everything turns out to be delicious. Let’s say that we’re done with the cooking. I serve the food for two plates alongside with tea bowls.

98. I gathered the remaining radish to serve them in a bowl. “Well then, let me cook as well. ”By his request I sat next to Ginji-san. Ginji-san prepared the teas and placed them next to the tea pot. (Is this counted as cooking?=__= ) “Time to eat! “

“That’s nice, I also want to eat ~ “ I wonder if the chicken and potatoes go well with the omurice ( AS IF IT WOULD ) “Aoi-san please take your time and eat as you please . I will also help myself “

“Is that so? “

“You must be hungry, so please start eating. “Inspired by Ginji-san’s words, I started eating the rice I was really looking forward to . It’s rich and has a sweet taste. It’s a bit different from cooking with a rice cooker. The fragrant is nicer.

It is a deliciousness that makes you feel inspired like drawing out the taste of rice from a deep place. ( I admire how Aoi goes deep with the description of tastes -since I’m really foody myself ^__^ )

“Amazing” My eyes were shining while I was holding another bowl of rice. I originally though that the rice alone was enough to make me full. But I also want to eat meat and potatoes. Thinking of that, my chopsticks started moving again. Seriously, it’s just chicken, potatoes and rice ! (Ok we get it Aoi , why do we have to re-read ingredients 10000 times .)

99. Bite sized chicken with sweet soy sauce and rice. Every so often I would roast the potato and dress it in crisp ponzu sauce and daikon. I have small bites of it. Ahh, it’s really delicious! Regardless of the skill that went into this dish, I was getting more hungrier and hungrier. I ate the delicious white rice, meat and potatoes filling up my stomach. In that moment I felt a bit of happiness. I also served Ginji-san a bowl of meat and potato. I also had some of the omurice, this time I had changed the recipe and not used the normal white rice. Even though Ginji-san is in the figure of a little boy, he eats a lot. It makes me somewhat glad. “Aoi-san, even though you are a human you season your food to the taste of an Ayakashi, it’s very sweet and thin.”

“Yeah, from what I can understand Grandpa had similar tastes to Ayakashi since he was always going back and forth between two worlds.” From what Ginji-san said it seems for Ayakashi their favourite tastes are sweet and thin but has a nice flavour at the same time. Individual tastes that all combine into one. It was my Grandfather’s favourite too, because I was always cooking for him it seems that it ended up being linked to making delicious meals for Ayakashi. Suddenly, the taste of the soy sauce I had licked brought back memories.

100. “Ah by the way, this sweet Kyushu soy sauce is similar to the likes of the one my Grandpa would use.”

“Yes, it seems the sweet soy sauce of this world is close to the one from the Apparent Realm.”

“Woah, that’s interesting.”

“Well, there was such a time where sugar trade was thriving in Dejima, Nagasaki. So in Kyushu a place that was full of sand soon began to serve delicious sweet food. So it seems that merchants from this world would constantly disguise themselves as human beings so they could go to the Apparent Realm for trade. Sugar was a seasoning that sweet toothed Ayakashi loved to eat and cook with. In Kyushu so many merchants were coming and going that eventually sweet soy sauce found it’s way into the world.”

“Really? Don’t you think that’s cool?

“In those days it was still free to come and go in between this world and the Apparent Realm. Back then I even got to see the Southern-barbarians who were rumoured to be in Nagasaki.”

“Eh?” I guess Ginji-san was alive back then… I know that Ayakashi have long life spans but in the era where the trade at Dejima was occurring, well, it’s a story from hundreds of years ago. I’m sure Ginji-san was a young Ayakashi back then.

101. “Ah my stomach, I was wondering if you’d want miso soup as well? I’d have to prepare it but I wouldn’t want you going hungry somehow.” When one’s stomach is satisfied, sounds stop coming out. I was concerned there wasn’t enough food on the counter since at home it would not have been a filling meal. “No, it was very delicious. Thank you very much, I’d heard that you were a good cook but now I’m absolutely convinced.”

“……” “If you’d like please feel free to use the ingredients and this kitchen as you see fit, so make anything. If there’s something you need I can get it from the main kitchen. I’m sure the Chief Chef won’t notice.”

“Fufu, it’s alright I’ll try making something out of the ingredients here.”

“Would you like me to bring some to the Master?”

“No, I’d rather eat it all by myself.”

“But the Master would be really pleased!” Ginji-san who almost looks pregnant from all the food begins to drink some tea. I glance at him from the side. “Ginji-san you mention the Master a lot, right?”

“Well of course, we all care for the Master.”

102. I also take a drink of the tea. For the Ayakashi here, what type of person is the Master to them all? This tea is very delicious and fluffy, of course it would be good at a luxurious inn like this though. “Now, what else should we make?” As I thought about the left overs I began thinking of a side dish in my head, I was really good at it. But even I can recognise that I’ve been neglecting some important things. “That’s right, no matter how many dishes I make, without a place to sleep it’s all hopeless really. I still don’t have a job.” I began to tremble. If I don’t manage to find a job what will happen to me? The Ogre-god said if I were to run away he would eat me, but what will he do if I remain unemployed? “Oh is that so? Well if that’s the case you can sleep in the back room here. The previous employee was sleeping in there before the store opened so there’s a set of futons.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course.” Ginji-san’s smile is so lovely but there’s something I’ve been wondering about.

“Hey, Ginji-san, why are you so nice to me? All the Ayakashi here hate me, but everything you’ve done has been so kind.”

103. Last night he was very kind to me, he snuck into my room with sushi. Gave me some ingredients and praised my cooking. Ginji-san spilled his cup a little bit after hearing my words. “I guess that’s correct.” He returns into the figure of a young man. “Well I feel like I’ve known you since you were a child.”

“Eh?” I wonder if I had met Ginji-san somewhere else, I don’t remember. “Oh do you mean my grandpa told you about me?”

“Uh, uh. Yes! Yes, it must have been in that type of situation.” He puts a sleeve over his mouth and laughs into it, his eyes are looking all around the room frantically. “If you are hungry, you can always come here.” Those are very happy words to me.

“Ginji-san you’re my saviour! Is doing all of this really okay?” I say strongly try to assert my emotions.

“Well, I am the Young Master.” Ginji-san said quickly. He waved his hands in front of his chest.

104. “Such a thing as kindness in a world full of Ayakashi may be true after all.”

“After all?” Ginji-san’s fox ear’s twitch slightly.

“Yes, a long time ago there was a kind Ayakashi who helped me. Ginji-san you remind me of that Ayakashi.”

“……”

“If you ever need anything Ginji-san please tell me and I’d gladly do it!” Feelings of gratefulness towards Ginji-san are starting to overflow. He raises his eyebrow. “Anything?” He says in a questioning tone. “Well then, will you cook for me again?”

“That’s… Well Ginji-san if you want something to eat just tell me and I’d make it!”

“I see…” He had a small smile on his face at that moment.

After that, Ginji-san left for his work.

105.  I decided to clean the kitchen and make a side dish. In time I make the back room into a bedroom of some sort. In addition to that wiped down the counter in preparation for any customers that might walk in. I saw a cupboard full of china, there were many fine pieces of pottery inside. I felt as if this restaurant could really have a fighting chance. On top of this I also discovered many utensils that seemed unique to the Hidden Realm, there was even something similar to a mixer from the Apparent Realm. The interior of this place soon looks very beautiful, I then go out to clean the garden. “This place isn’t scary, calm down.” I look up into the sky and realise that it is the evening, when I look up at the big beautiful purple sky I can see multiple ships with lanterns hanging from them. The lanterns sway up and down. I can hear festival music in the distant. The warm light starts to leak out into the evening, it’s a calm atmosphere, one that reminds me of a private home. Hopefully this place will eventually be noticed. “Well, thanks to Ginji-san we have food, shelter and clothing. Tomorrow I’ll work hard as well.” He was helping this place that seemed to be forgotten. It seems like it’s really hard for Ginji-san to stop trying. Anyway, I think I should check on my pork and radish, I also want to return to the main building afterwards. An explosion like sound could be heard emitting from the main building, it was surprising. “Eh, eh? What was that?”

106. I was curious about the explosion like noise and headed towards the main building. Crossing the dark corridor from the back door, I turned towards the front, some kind of flyer being carried by the wind crossed my face. It seemed like it was promoting a Cherry Blossom festival at, ‘Onikomi.’ I opened the door and saw the sight before me. At the reception the Tsuchigomo with the red hair was standing at the front dealing with a guy with a big nose and black wings. He was throwing around liquor bottles at Daruma and making a tantrum, although I wasn’t sure if he was exaggerating or not. “Please stop Master Tengu! You too Daruma!” Akatsuki of the Tsuchigomo tried to calm down the fighting by easing the need for bloodshed, but his voice doesn’t reach them because there is so many people. Why was there even fighting in the first place, was the question. Flocks of Ayakashi and low-level employees are watching over it. “Hey, who are those people?” A small girl looked at me from the other side, she had a raccoon like appearance, I started talking to her for a brief moment.

107.“Well you see the Tengu were hosting a party here at Tenjin-ya today to celebrate. But they started complaining about the food saying it was boring, So the Tengu got angry and tipped over a table.”

“I see, that sounds horrible.”

“Well, I guess they were all pretty drunk. But I wouldn’t have wanted to apologise and replace their food either. Pride is expensive after all. When I heard the fighting, I ran to the front and the fight was really big. It seemed like a war between Daruma and Tengu. By tomorrow I’m sure our Inn will be a pile of debris if this continues.” That’s what the Raccoon like Ayakashi said, but she’s right. This inn may be in trouble. A vase then went flying and we ducked down, “Kya.”

“What’s going on in here? Where is the Master?”

“The Young Hostess is going to get the Master, I’m sure he’ll be here soon. He’ll be able to calm this place down.”

“Are Tengu honourable Ayakashi?”

108. “Yes, that’s why we’re all trying to hold down our anger as well.” Said the raccoon girl, it must be easy for the Tsuchigomo to watch over them and also handle the situation with his spider web. “The Tengu are good customers here since they are very generous. Because of that generosity they’re valuable business partners, so it will be hard to repair our relationship with them if this continues. We’ll have to wait for the Master to get here. Although I’m not sure if even he’d be able to help the situation.”

“No way…”

“But the dining here is a little bad. The cuisine here does not change at all. Some customers like the taste but others have begun to grow bored of it. However the head Daruma does not listen to such complaints.” The battle of the Tengu started to pick up, as they started to throw souvenirs. As I watched the dispute that I’m not even closely related to, I notice the Master has not showed up yet. If this continues the Inn will be broken, I was starting to become seriously worried. “You rotten Daruma are dead!”

“You good for nothing Tengu, go to hell! Never come back here again.”

“You’re all brain dead!”

109. “I’ll break that long nose of yours!” The fighting between the Ayakashi continues to get louder and louder.

“Ouch.” I could hear sounds of things breaking. I was then hit in the forehead by a Temari ball thrown by Daruma. It’s the Head Daruma’s cuisine that is causing all of this to happen. The front is like a whirlwind with Daruma figures causing chaos by throwing salted plums from the simmering soup.

“Are you all right?”

“Itata, jeez those drunks!”

“Oh no, there’s blood coming from your forehead. Human beings are vulnerable to that.” It wasn’t a great or painful injury but there still seemed to be blood leaking from my forehead. The Tanuki seemed a little worried, but at that time I saw the Master come from the other side of the corridor. The young snow woman hostess on one side and on the other side there was a middle-aged woman who was doing up her hair, I’d never seen her before.

“Wow, it’s the first hostess!” The raccoon girl seemed to lose her confidence and begin to tremble as she reverted back into a normal raccoon. It seemed as if she was a mere admirer but was still afraid. I had a terrible feeling.

110. It seemed as if the Master had noticed me as he showed a slightly surprised expression. It seemed as if he noticed that I had tied my hair back. He was looking down at me with a cool look. I try to keep the blood from running down my forehead. “Well, well, how unbelievable of you to not bow your head to the Master.”

“It’s bad practice to allow such habits to grow, is it not First Hostess? Of course, it’s a human girl who would do such a thing. Never the less, what is with the blood? It is a makeup of some sort? What kind of simple girl messes up their makeup that horribly?” That’s what the First Hostess and Young Hostess said. The area is a little uncomfortable, but I try and lower my head. “You don’t have to do such a thing.” The Master stopped me from lowering my head with a cold voice. The Master seemed to be in a foul mood. Those red eyes reminded me of that trembling gaze from yesterday. The First Hostess has a smooth look on her face. “Oh Master. It’s sweet of you let an employee go undisciplined. Especially annoying human beings with debts to repay.”

“This human is not yet an employee, she is just a simple girl.”

111. The Master unleashes those colds words onto me without mercy. Even from far away I could tell he had a cold attitude, far different from when we had first met. I was shocked with regret. “You’re an eyesore Tsubaki Aoi. You have no place here, so this dispute is none of your business.”

“I was just worried about what was happening here.”  

“Leave here at once. Unless you’d like to be an offering. In that case I’ll hand you over to the Tengu.” I was unable to say anything in response to the Master’s cold words, the Snow Woman however found something to say with ease. “Good. The Tengu would love to have a human girl. I’m sure they’d be so delighted that they’d forget about this entire ordeal.”

“…….” The blood on my forehead flows down and falls onto the floor.

“Girl! Do not dirty the floor with the filthy blood of human beings!” The First Hostess angrily shouted at me. My body trembled, as you would expect. The Master opened his mouth slightly as if he was going to say something to me, but eventually he said nothing and instead walked towards the fighting. Both Hostesses follow him. I feel somewhat hopeless as I felt a warm colour rising to my cheeks.

112. At first the fighting between the Daruma and Tengu was quite worrisome, but the Master seemed to resolve it. I feel now he will only grow colder and start yelling at me more. I decided to flee from this place. I probably looked hurt and bloody now that I think about it.

Woahh so here we are after like, a month and a lot. Chapter 3. Enjoy. In this chapter we don’t get much interaction between Aoi and Odanna-sama except for the scene where he’s in a foul mood. However, since the next chapter is called The Old Tengu, we’ll most likely see more of Odanna! The interaction between Aoi and Ginji was a lot more in depth here in comparison to the anime where these scenes occurred, which I believe was episode 2. On another note, did anyone else end up balling their eyes out during the final episode? Because I did, twice actually. Hopefully the rumours about season 2 airing in summer anime 2019 won’t stay a rumour.

Pages 93 to 98 translated by @wondering-apricot

Pages 65 to 112 (excluding 93 to 98) done by myself

So, have you ever thought about supporting your favourite translators for Kakuriyo No Yadomeshi? Well, now you can, buy us a novel at this link. Paypal.me/KakuriyosTranslation

[tarithenurse]

I see you - Ch. 11

Pairing: Heimdal x fem!readerContents: Pining, fluff, tensionA/N: As usual – if you want a tag just ask or reblog! Comments and corrections are still welcome. And there’s still no one who’s found the system in the titles?

Ch. 11 – Time in a bottle

Heimdal navigates the vessel effortlessly between rocky outcrops and the uppermost trees on the slopes of Kóngurinn, the lower of the two peaks, until it comes to a rest on the lush grass strewn with wildflowers. At the visitors backs, the mountain shield from the wind, granting the sun full power to warm the natural pasture of a herd of bilbery blacknecks who have congregated near the glacier stream.

Disembarking the skiff, the Guardian of Bifrost feels is heart take flight as [Y/N] allows him to lift her over the edge, and it’s hard not to linger before setting her carefully on the firm ground because she’s enticingly close to him. Slender arms wrapped around his neck and shoulder, pressing her firmly against a chest that swells with the nearness they share and the sweet scent of her breath that tickles softly against his suddenly dry throat. With a quick glance, Heimdal confirms that the woman’s soft lips are a mere dip of his head away.

No…it would be…I cannot take such a liberty. Instead, he relishes the sensation as she holds on to him while finding her footing. When the Midgardian finally does turn to look across the world below, Heimdal cannot tear his eyes away from [Y/N].

…

What a view. Before you, the landscape falls away to reveal what appears to be the disc-shape of this world. Asgard is truly magical, because in your mind a “normal” alien world would still follow the rules of science as you know it from earth, but this place is…well, it’s impossible. At first glance nothing seems amiss with the way the blue dome of the sky hangs above you. However, as your eyes trails to the horizon, the light blue is darkened, adopting the features of the clearest of nights. The dark, velvety band beyond the world is embellished with glittering diamonds and here and there are colourful swirls that must be galaxies rather than single stars. Nearer to you is the edge of the ocean. A clearly defined line where the torrents must fall beyond the border, not unlike the Vikings thought of their own world. And right on that line is a golden globe perched, attached to the mainland by an umbilical cord made of kaleidoscopic and golden materials and leading in a straight line to the grand city surrounding the palace. Valhalla.

“This is…it’s…” you grapple with the words, but they keep evading you and the sentence is never finished.

The colours of the landscape are vibrant and clean, the air infused with health that seeps into your body with each breath. Moving carefully to avoid the worst of the pain, you sit down. That way you don’t have to concentrate on standing, using your energy on taking in your surroundings rather than avoid falling over.

As you sink onto the lush grass, you notice the abundance of wild flowers. Some are familiar (corn flowers, gold yarrows, foxgloves, poppies and primroses), but there are many others in clusters or isolated that you don’t know what to call. One of them, you’re willing to swear, is even making a melody. Looking further, you notice the goats (at least you assume that’s what they are) by a stream flowing from its spring somewhere above the pasture. The shaggy animals don’t bother with the intruders and a few little kids are bouncing happily around, mock headbutting each other and whichever plants they deem to be worthy opponents.

“What do you think?” Heimdal calls your attention back gently. “Does it seem too alien for your liking?”

“It’s different, yeah, but in the best of ways!” You turn to face him fully with a smile. “Asgard’s…breathtakingly beautiful. Perhaps there’s some place on ear–Midgard like this, but I’ve never seen it. If there was, then I’d move there.” Gazing across the wondrous planet, you add more to yourself than to him: “I’d stay here if I could.”

Warm fingers wrap around your hand, squeezing gently in an unspoken reassurance that somehow everything will be alright. For now, it truly feels as though it will.

…

Heimdal had thought of everything, you admit to yourself as you watch him collect the blankets and lunch basket. Watching him move as he works is a delight, and a wilder side of you attempts to scold you for not having taking more advantage of the situation than simply holding hands. One day it’ll be too late to make a move. A cold and heavy knot forms somewhere in your guts at the thought, making your smile falter momentarily. Damnit! Fighting the beckoning sadness, you push away the looming mystery that’s your future. This day has been amazing, and the man has done his best to provide entertainment and excellent company. He deserves the brightest smile. When he turns and walks back towards you, his golden eyes gleaming, the smile returns to your lips effortlessly.

It’s hard to get back onto your feet from the ground off, and you accept a helping hand which turns into to strong arms lifting you and carrying you to the skiff.

“Thank you.” Try as you might, something’s preventing you from speaking louder than a whisper.

For a second, as he lowers you onto the furs and cushions, it feels like his lips ghost along your cheek bone, sending a hot wave through you. “It’s my pleasure.” Then he’s moving away, swinging elegantly over the railing to take his place by the steering mechanism.

Comfortable in the nest Heimdal has made for you, it’s hard to keep up the pessimism as the landscape passes beneath the flying boat. Despite the old civilisation, the damage to the world is minimal as opposed to what you’ve seen at home and taken for granted as “not too bad”. Everything in Asgard is pristine and clean, making you dread having to return to New York and the concrete-hell. Or what’s left of it. The images of a city turned warzone visits your randomly, especially at night if you wake up in spite of the medicine the healers still want you to take. Generally, you can keep the memories at bay, but as the skiff brings you and Heimdal closer to Valhalla the harder it becomes to ignore the dread of what awaits you at home. Why had it even happened? No one on earth had even known about intelligent life outside of the solar system let alone the planet! Right?

“Why…why was earth attacked by aliens? Why’d anyone do that?” Peeling your eyes from the golden castle in the distance, you twist carefully to look at Heimdal.

A shadow settles over him, engulfing the little vessel and its occupants in an uncomfortable tension. There’s no smile playing in the amber of the Asgardian’s eyes, and now your throat’s dry and your palms are sweating lightly with the certainty that the answer won’t be the reassuring kind.

“The people of Midgard have done no wrong, save for being treasured by Thor.” A deep sigh punctuates the somewhat lacking explanation and his gaze grows distant before he continues. “Loki, his brother for all intense and purposes, sought revenge on an imagined slight by conquering your realm with the intent to destroy or rule.”

You understand the words individually. The meaning of the sentence isn’t far fetched either, still it doesn’t quite compute as quickly as it should.

“Loki?” Your Asgardian friend nods. “The…Trickster…Loki?” Again, a soft dip of the head is the answer. “What happened to him?”

…

Never again would Heimdal underestimate the cold ferocity of a woman. Working in tandem with stubbornness only rivaled by that of a bilgesnipe in heat, the fury of [Y/N] was now the direct cause of her slow but steady progress down the hall leading to the dungeons. Nothing the Guardian of Bifrost and Asgard has said is enough to stop her, and so he has resorted to keep her upright as they make their way down the steps after the Einherjar on duty allows them through (although with a confused look beneath the furrowed brows).

The woman’s body tenses against the bracing hold Heimdal has on her, causing the Asgardian to look up and, for the first time since Thor’s return with the prisoner of war, lay eyes on Loki. The lanky figure is sprawled lazily on a settee with a book in his hands. He looks healthier. In fact, this could almost have been the young prince that grew up at the court. The child that pulled pranks. The youth that charmed all those in his vicinity. It could have been…but it’s not. A callousness has taken hold in a heart, cold and resentful. Even now, as Loki steals a covert glance their way, a contemptuous sneer is fleetingly visible to the diligent watcher.

Keeping her silence, [Y/N] covers the remaining distance to the one step leading up to the golden, mesh-like barrier. There she plants herself firmly, piercing the former prince with hard eyes. Not a word is said as minutes tick by where Heimdal can feel the load he has to carry for the woman increase. It’s a battle of wills. A duel which Loki loses the moment he tosses the book aside and stands to face her.

[jaythevoid-dnd-characters]

The Danger in Tranquility

Short Story about a Spectrium exploration group landing in California(technically). Enjoy!

The old ship creaked as the whistling winds and crashing waves of the night tested its resilience. Despite its age, this fine old vessel had endured many a voyage, and this one would

just be another for the records. But unlike the previous trips, this time the ship would not be returning home. This time it would find new home.

The ship would not be the only one in search of a new home; among the worn wood slept a few dozen voyages, young and old alike. This was the way of their people, the Spectriums,

endlessly in search of new worlds, becoming one with the land just before departing once more. Of course not everyone would leave the new realms they found though it was to be expected of their younger civilians. The thirst for exploration only grew weaker with age.

So it was no surprise that someone was too excited to be sleeping. Capering around the deck, young Zoru Idiopsy thought it was better to duel one of the military training dummies rather than rest. He would rest when he was tired, now was practice. Some evasive footwork, a quick glide to the left, and STRIKE!

If that were an opponent, they'd be bleeding out right now, Zoru smirked. He pulled his father's spear out of the dummies' neck, twirling it in his grip.

"But I need to be quicker. I probably left myself open for too long." He sighed. A warrior's form needs to be perfect in and out of training; if not, it could cost one's life. That's what his father always told him. He'd probably be saying something similar right now if he was awake, Zoru thought.

"You forgot to lunge with your strike again. Still not perfect."

Speak of the devil.

Zoru knew that nagging tone all too well. "I thought you were asleep," he remarked,

turning to face his audience.

"You underestimate how quiet your grunts are." His father was unfortunately a bit of a

light sleeper, so this was not too surprising. It was better if a warrior could leap into action if they could hear it coming. His father walked over to him, gesturing for the spear. Zoru obliged, returning the weapon to its original owner.

"Now, you want to step into the strike. Get the full force of your body into your attack," his father said as he stepped forward with the spear. "And give yourself a foundation to push off of so you can maintain your distance." He then swiftly returned to his initial stance, effortless and strong. Zoru nodded.

"Use your young energy. It is your greatest weapon." His father handed back the spear. "Perfect your form and none can stop you. Get some rest now." He turned to leave, heading back below deck.

Zoru knew he must be tired. His father served in the military for many years back in Aquavine. He was well known and respected throughout the entire city, and his reputation was to be inherited by Zoru.

It would be high standard to uphold.

I'll rest when I'm tired, he decided, taking stance in front of the dummy once more.

*************

The dummy less resembled a humanoid and more so a sheep. Stuffing was spilling out of

several tears, and had made its way to the floor. Zoru himself was starting to get sloppy with his movements. It wasn't helping that the winds had picked up and waves crashed against the sides of the boat, making the deck damp and slippery. Or was that the rain's fault. Wait a moment, when had it starting raining? Zoru didn't have time to answer his own question before a giant waves bombarded the ship, knocking him off his feet.

"Get below deck!" Lanpher shouted, securing one of the sails, "We've got a storm blowing through here!"

You don't need to tell me twice. Zoru grabbed the spear and making his way to the stairwell. He hadn't made it further than a yard before he saw a wave as tall as an oak tree

seconds from crashing into him and the ship. Zoru braced himself but it was no use. The force of the water was unbearable, cold and crushing, as it ripped his hand away from the railing of the ship. As he was plunged into the icy darkness, all he could hope was the others would be alright while everything around him faded.

*************

Zoru awoke slowly, feeling the ache from his training earlier. At least this sand was

warm and soft. Wait a moment, sand? Zoru's eyes shot open as he stumbled to his feet, groaning. It was morning; he was on calm beaches that lead into a lush forest a little ways ahead. He looked down at himself. His bracers and right shin guard were still on him, but his chest plate and helmet were gone. His clothes were a bit tattered in places, too. Oh no, did he still have his father's spear? Zoru searched frantically at his feet and around where he had been lying. There! Stuck in the sand a few yards away, the spear seemed just fine.

"Thank goodness," he sighed, "I can defend myself properly. Not sure what I'd do if I lost this." He twirled the shaft in his hands. Zoru turned back to the waves. They were so gentle it was weird to think that there had even been a storm.

"I wonder if everyone else made it through alright." He pondered for a moment. I think we were heading north east. Maybe the others are close? The party had left home in search of a new island, continent, or whatever was beyond the ocean. Zoru squinted, searching the horizon. The smooth waters glistened and sparkled in the morning sunlight. No ship though. He relaxed his eyes and plopped down.

"Should I stay here and wait, or travel up the coast? They may be further north."

His stomach growled. How long had it been since he had eaten last? Standing, he turned his attention back to the forest. There'd be something he could catch and cook in there.

"Let's see what this new land has in store for me."

*************

The sun shone warm through the trees as Zoru got a small fire started. He had returned to

the beach as to avoid a forest fire, and was certainly lining a ring of stone. The pile of wood and kindling he had gathered was minimal but it would suffice. What was important was that he had found a rabbit borough, and had managed to spear a couple.

Having finished the stone ring, he stacked the twigs and dried leaves he found in the center. Now, some flames. Zoru didn't know how to start a fire from scratch however his mother

had taught him a simple spell; a weak lightning spell that was intended to be a last resort in combat. Maybe I could use the heat and sparks to catch the kindling alight? Placing his hand just

above the pile, he recited the incantation.

"Spítha!"

A small jolt of electricity jumped from the palms of his hands, shocking the kindling, and setting them alight. Zoru yelped, jumping at the raw energy that sparked out of his hands, leaving his fingertips with a minor stinging sensation. Upon further inspection, he noticed tiny lightning-like streaks across his fingers. I guess that spell has a bit of a drawback. Trying to shake away the sting, he reached for the small pile of wood and began stacking sticks around the new little flame.

While the fire grew slowly, Zoru constructed a simple spit to cook the rabbits on with some of the sticks. Having placed it carefully over the flames, he began skinning the rabbits with his spear. After he had finished the first one, he noticed himself squinting. Looking up from the rabbits, he realized sunset was already approaching. Hunting and scavenging had taken longer than he would have thought. Well, I guess this will be dinner instead of lunch. He got back to work on the second rabbit, put them both on the spit once they were both skinned.

The sun dropped lower as the rabbits cooked. Zoru had found a spring that bubbled up near the beach which he had a drink from. As his dinner neared doneness, he found a large leaf to try and use as a plate. Eating the rabbits, which were pretty tasty considering that they weren't seasoned, Zoru watched the sun finally set. Finishing the last one, he added some more wood to the fire. Even though it was late spring, the fire was still a comforting source of warm. As Zoru fell asleep next to the flames, he could have sworn he saw a tiny light on the northern horizon.

*************

Zoru awoke to the sound of a low growl coming from behind him. Opening his eyes to darkness, he slowly turned to look behind him. Less than ten feet away were three grey wolves, snarling viciously in the dawn light. But one of them looked a bit strange; it was noticeably larger with piercing green eyes, and what appeared to be a pair of small horns....and did it have two tails?

The strange wolf approached him, its eyes locked on Zoru's. Though he was scared, he tried not to show it. He knew that when confronted with a wolf the best course of action was to hold your ground. His hand slowly reached for the spear behind him.

"Don't try anything you might regret." Zoru's train of thought halted suddenly. Where had that voice come from? Was that the wolf!?

"Why have you come here?" There was no questioning it as Zoru saw the bizarre

wolf's mouth open slightly at that comment, displaying razor sharp teeth.

"I...um...we came here in search of a new home," he stammered out. The wolf's ears

perked up.

"We? There are more like you?"

"Y-y-yes. But we are but a small group, mostly just family."

"And you claim to have come to live here. Does that include tearing my home apart?" "No! No, no, no! We have no intention of harming your forest, quite the

opposite. My people are that of researchers, we hope to learn about this new world. Even help it if it is suffering." Zoru knew he sounded a bit little like he was pandering, but it was true; for

generations his kind traveled throughout the universe studying unique life forms wherever they found them.

That seemed to satisfy the wolf enough. It turned its back to Zoru, and began returning to the brush. Before it made it too far, it turned back to look at him.

"I hope you keep your word, lest all of nature see to it that your people perish."

Then it vanished.

Zoru exhaled deeply, not realizing he had been holding his breath. That must have been

a guardian or god of this land. Thank goodness it decided to spare me. He stood finally. Stretching slightly before he turned back to the shore and-

"THE SHIP!"

There it was, not too far north from him! Making sure the douse the remaining flames of his campfire, Zoru grabbed his spear and took off in the direction of the boat.

As he got closer, Zoru could see that the ship had survived the storm, but only by a hair. The sails were torn in places, some of the wood was damaged, but nonetheless it was holding together.

"Father! Mother!" He cried out as he drew nearer. He had been running for some time now, throat sore from the cool morning air, but he didn't care.

"Zoru, is that you!?" No doubt it was his mother. She sounded overjoyed yet worried at the same time.

Zoru stopped at the shoreline nearest to the ship, roughly a hundred meters out into the water. He could see people's heads peering out over the railing, calling to him excitedly. In a few moments a row boat was lowered, soon making its way toward him as he caught his breath. He could clearly see his mother and father on board as well as Lanpher, the crewman from the night he got swept of the ship.

"Zoru! Oh, thank goodness you're safe!" His mother cried as the boat reached the shore, running over to hug him. Zoru returned the hug gratefully, relieved to be with his family once again. As quickly as his mother had hugged him, she pulled away.

"Are you hurt? Have you eaten?" His mother scanned him, "Oh goodness, and your armour! What happened? Oh, what does it matter? You're alive! We can make new ones."

"I'm safe, I'm fed, I'm ok."

He looked over to see his father approach.

"I'm so glad to see you alright. We've been so worried," his father sighed, embracing

him firmly.

Zoru returned the embrace, feeling his mother join in once again.

He was home. Safe.

"Oh, there's something I should probably tell you...everyone, actually."

*************

"So, a demon approached you?"

"No, I think it may have been a god of this land, at least a guardian of some sort. All it asks is that we not harm to forest while we're here." Zoru repeated, perhaps for the third time.

"How can we do that? Wood is fairly essential in building," a crew member questioned, others nodding in agreement. "Perhaps we could build more with stone and glass, and just try to use already fallen trees and branches," Zoru suggested."That way we'd have strong sturdy buildings while not disturbing the nature of the forest."

"That sounds like it could work," Zoru's father commented, putting a hand on his son's shoulder.

"From now on we shall construct glorious settlements out of stone and glass, as to appease the guardian's desires," he declared. He turned to Zoru, "Did the beast ever tell you its name?"

"No, perhaps we could find a name for it," Zoru proposed, "It was a wolf with two tails, horns, and bright green eyes. Perhaps......Shiritua?"

"Shiritua...yes, that sounds like a name worthy of a god. I wonder if there are any rituals we should perform to appease it?" Zoru's mother concluded.

"I'm not sure, I think respecting the forest is a good start though," Zoru declared.

Everyone nodded in agreement, to which Zoru's father raised his spear. "Then may our people flourish in this new land, and may we learn the many secrets of this land!"

[gibzy]

heyyy I just realized like a billion of yall have been liking/reblogging that really bad kam fanfic i wrote like pre-quarantine so i’m just gonna put one of my more recent writing thingies under the cut if you want to read something with actual flow and descriptions qwq

so! you decided to read this, thank you! it’s a short story I wrote in like two days this week bc my english teacher gave me an opportunity to write fiction and obviously I was frothing at the mouth to write anything other than an essay. so. we had to write a hero vs monster story, which is pretty vague, so I had some alien eldritch fun with it. enjoy!

-----

Evelyn prefers the dark.

It’s not anything important, really— just a liking for the serene embrace of a quiet night. Things are bright too often, she often thinks, in this overwhelming world of fluorescent office lights and LCD screens. Intensity is not something she has ever been good at dealing with, so when the opportunity to just exist in a low-lit space presents itself, she takes it.

Which is exactly why she’s biking down the street at two in the morning.

The wind rushes through her lungs as she eases off the pedals down a hill, cold and bracing in the moonless winter night— or day, technically, but the distant flicker of headlights on the top of an overpass being the only thing close to celestial radiance for a long while, it’s close enough. Her hair whispers against the tops of her ears in the breeze, the sound not unlike tussocks of dry grass brushing against each other. She sighs. Her hair looks like dry grass, too, actually, if it was colored violet by a woefully inexperienced hand. 

More thoughts weave their way through her mind generally akin to that one; pointless, but more positive. Grounding thoughts. She’s too tall for this bike now, but it’s still fun. Her eyes are light grey— maybe that’s why she’s so sensitive to light. The road is smooth and easy to ride; must be recently paved.

She’s trying not to think too much about where she’s going or why she’s going there, lest the anxiety seize her heart again. It pumps with blood now, and not pain, and that’s how she intends to keep it for as long as possible. 

Trees lining the road wind just as much as it does, twisting and knotting in an organic symposium of leafless branches. They’re barely visible against the sky, a charcoal-gray to its inky azure. A gentle susurrus of cicadas and frogs drones quietly on, accompanied by the ambient clicking of Evelyn’s bicycle spokes. It’s not any warmer at the bottom of the hill, shielded by vegetation, even bundled in a sweatshirt and jacket. She shivers. She’s not sure if it’s from the cold or the slowly growing trepidation.

She can feel it stirring. Predictable, sure, but unsettling nonetheless. It sparks as she rounds the familiar bend, an entropic, feral sizzle of energy and panic. Good, she tells herself. Good, this is supposed to happen. But even so, her fingers tighten around the handlebars. 

The road grows rougher and rougher until it cracks into glorified gravel, a confluence of pebbles and weeds. She squeezes the brakes as the bike begins to bump across the sharp stones and hops off. The rocks peter off into the woods. 

There’s a moment where she just stands there, frozen. Does she go? Can she go?

But she shakes her head— of course she can. She came all this way to get here, and there’s no way she’s going back without resolving at least a little of whatever this is. She flips down the kickstand of her bike, and with a fortifying breath, she sets off into the thicket.

It’s an odd place, really.  Used to be a townhouse development, decades ago, abandoned for no reason other than the fact that there were other, better places to live. Nature had reclaimed it years before Evelyn had ever discovered it, and yet everything there was and is eerily stagnant. No animals rustle in the underbrush. No bugs buzz through the air. The only trees, though tall, are all in various stages of decay, so she supposes it’s rather vibrantly alive, but it's a different energy than she’s used to. She moves slowly. Ducking under branches, stepping over the occasional touch-tone telephone, and squinting through the darkness for the clearing that lays beyond. A flashlight would be very useful at this point. She brought her phone for that purpose, actually, but it feels wrong for her to use it now. Like it would summon the thing too soon. 

So she trudges on, her heart pounding in her chest. It’s calm here, but the mere anticipation of it thrums in her blood. There’s no shoving the thoughts down now, with such a material reminder surrounding her. She grits her teeth as another gelid blast of wind whips past her, and begins to try to organize everything scrambling around her head.

Okay. One: it calls itself Consterlevus. A fairly egotistical name, if you ask Evelyn— anything that purposefully puts latin roots in its name just to sound important is annoying on principle. 

Her foot plunges through a soft, rotting log, and her pulse spikes again. It’s fine. It’s fine.

Two: she doesn’t call it a monster. She did, at first, but she learned quickly that ascribing such universally known characteristics made it even more confident, which she learned even faster was very, very bad for her.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket. Not now. Not now.

Three: it’s probably easiest to kill it physically. She can hurt it, and she has, many a time, but it just slinks back to the burning place in her heart where it likes to fester. She needs to defeat it quickly, before it can retreat. A switchblade weighs heavily in her pocket. A last resort, to be sure. She’s not looking for a dangerous confrontation, but when it comes to that— if it comes to that, she corrects, looking for at least a shred of hope— she’s prepared.

At last, she can see the glade. It seems illuminated, somehow, despite the new moon, but when she blinks, it’s dark once more. She jogs towards it, nervous impatience vibrating through her skull like a plucked chord.

It’s exactly as she remembered it. A small field of unkempt grass and weeds, surrounding a pond, dotted with small water lilies. She hasn’t been here in years— three? Four? And yet it’s completely undisturbed. She laughs to herself. Of course. Consterlevus can’t handle anything less than perfection.

She hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to do. It had kind of been a spur-of-the-moment, last straw sort of decision to come here, The thing has a flair for the dramatic, though, so she spreads her arms and calls up to the sky. “Well? You’re always around, where are you now?” 

There’s no response other than another spark of energy in her heart. She rolls her eyes. “I know you’re here. It’s no mystery that you’re the one making me all, y’know,” she says, pointing at her chest, “panicky.”

A resonating grumble fills her mind. The voice seems split in two, speaking the same words in different tones. One, a shrill, tremulous warble, and the other a deep, jarring rasp, like a coyote with bronchitis. She had found it horrifying at first, an unnatural harmony of something utterly alien to this world, but now it was just irritating.

From her chest, a sinuous, winding light spills onto the ground, sinking into the tangle of untended, shin-high weeds. It slithers through them, sending harsh shadows beyond the reach of its blinding corona. It draws the reflections it creates on the water into itself, swelling and shuddering until it coils itself into an identifiable shape. Its body is lithe and quadrupedal, resembling a panther. Its head, long and rounded, bears the visage of a snake, and when it opens its mouth to hiss, it reveals the  sickle-like fangs of a lion. But the most disturbing thing about the creature is its eyes— or lack thereof. 

Though the entire being is made of intense, writhing light, upon its forehead is a tight spiral of absolute darkness; the kind of darkness only achieved in the far reaches of space. It is massive, dominating the majority of the clearing. She squints, eyes watering as it draws itself to its full height. When it opens its mouth to speak, viscous, pearlescent saliva drips from its jaws, rippling on the surface of the pond like gasoline in a parking lot puddle. “You think you may simply summon me at your whim, mere mortal? I have knowledge of realms far beyond your own, power you could never fathom, thoughts—”

“Aw, no hello, Connie?” 

It snarls. “My name is Consterlevus, and you will address me as such, you insolent human!”

She crosses her arms, trying to shove away the pounding distress that grips her heart like a vise. Eldritch entities are nothing too bad. She’s familiar with this one, who has been her unwanted companion for years. Ever since she visited this place, it’s been a parasite in her brain, amplifying the existing anxiety in her head. Terrifying, at first, but she’s exhausted after so many failures at banishing it. And she doesn’t think straight when she’s tired. This thing could literally be eating dimensions if it wasn’t trapped on Earth, powers tamped down by the planet’s very nature.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind. Focus. “Right. Anyway, you need to pay your rent. It’s, like, really overdue.”

It lowers its neck, bringing its face— if you can call it that— closer to her. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your rent. You’ve been living in my brain or heart or something for at least three years, and all you’ve done is severely worsen my anxiety disorder and convince at least one person that I have schizophrenia. I’ve been a very lenient landlord.”

It makes a piercing rasp she supposes could be interpreted as a scoff. “Are you attempting to jest at your predicament, human? Many have borne my curse before, and none have survived.”

She sighs. “Look, dude, it was a really lame metaphor, I get it. I’m just lowkey a little freaked out.”

It puffs out its chest, raising its head towards the sky. “Of course you are. My abilities known no bounds. My presence permeates your very soul. My—”

“Okay, okay! I get it, you’re an unfathomable cosmic entity beyond my most vivid nightmares or whatever. Now, if you’re not gonna stop whatever you’re doing with my brain, I’m gonna have to kick you out myself.”

It cocks its head, claws extending as it flexes its paws. “Was that a threat?”

She exhales loudly, exasperated. “Duh! I came all the way to the place where I had the absolute pleasure of making your acquaintance with a knife and an ultimatum. I’ve been way too passive all this time, and I can’t stand it a second longer. So what’ll it be?”

Consterlevus bears its teeth. “You are passive. You never tell anyone your opinion, do you? You let it fester in your mind, and then you tear yourself apart for being such a coward. Sure, they all think you are nice, but you never express any real emotion.” It swells, its neck curving down and around her neck, searing her skin. “But it is all worth it, is it not? Being so worried about what other people think. It matters, it really does, in this world. You may hate yourself for it, but you’ll succeed.”

“No!” The cold air condenses her breath into a warm mist, billowing from her mouth like the smoke of a dragon. “That’s not true. I can be nice to people without sacrificing my own needs! The fact that you convinced me otherwise is your fault, not mine, and I’m done blaming myself for everything. I feel detached from everyone because I’m not sincere with them! Not everyone will like me, and that’s okay, because it’s more important to be myself!”

Consterlevus sloughs off her shoulders, neck limp as it slithers back towards its body, a wholly unsettling movement. It shrinks in size, now about even in height with Evelyn. “You cannot possibly think that is true,” it hisses. “Everyone preaches acceptance and love, but few uphold it.”

“Well screw all of the people who don’t! I don’t need their approval; I can be happy with the people that are actually decent human beings!”

It growls, slinking closer. “No, no, do not delude yourself with these lies—”

She draws the switchblade, driving it fervently into the center of the spiral upon its forehead. “They are true! They have taken me years to figure out, but they are true. You have infested this planet long enough, Consterlevus. Be gone!”

It shrieks, a piercing sound that sends ripples through the water. It dissipates into shards of light, flickering like embers of cold white fire until it eventually disappears. 

The panic in her heart fades, and she lets out a sob of relief, falling to her knees. It’s over. It’s gone.

She hugs herself, smiling through the tears, and as she looks up at the jet-black sky, she knows that now she can truly direct her own independence— truly accept its serenity.

[half-bloodxresources]

Cheating

Things did not improve as much as Hades needed them. His queen did seem in a better spirit with her new magical garden, but the faint grayish tone from her skin still announced the lack of sunlight and oxygen, of her mortal realm. She was happy, he could tell… Maybe Eros had been right all along. He was cursed and she was paying the highest price. Loving Hades was unnatural. It was crystal clear now. And even if the curse was real, Hades did not have it in him to seek retribution. All he wanted now was making Persephone better.Persephone had been in the Underworld far too long and the world above was suffering the consequences of it. Hades’ realm was booming as Demeter refused to allow crops to grow and spring never came. Droughts, prolonged winters, and famine. People were dying at an alarming rate. The most popular god was now Hades. His youngest brother was furious. Zeus went to Demeter, who explained that nothing would ever grow again until she had Persephone back as if she was an object for Demeter to control. The only solution to everyone’s quandaries. Persephone ought to go back. How would he even address this with the lovely goddess? She would hate him if he simply cast her away. He knew the feeling all too well. He needed a better way of fixing things, not just ripping the band-aid. As the silent one moved from the upper balcony to her luminescent garden. The sweet scent filled his lungs as he ventured in between the mushrooms and bushes. A smile crept onto his pale features that were dimly illuminated by the bright colorful sprouts. She is simply beautiful. He thought. With a heavy heart, the god kneeled next to Persephone. She smiled, looking up at him. “Look, Hades! It’s growing so beautifully.”  Her soft voice was music to his ears. I can’t do this… I can’t push her away! He needed to find another way, and he did have a plan, but seeing her part from his side, from her rightful place as Queen seemed wrong. “My dear.” Hades whispered, taking her hand on his, kissing the back of it. “Do you mind if we go on a stroll?” The goddess looked up at her skeptically. -o- A few minutes later, the two walked through the garden, examining her expert work on plants that were never meant to be. He smiled softly. “I’ve been thinking…” The male spoke softly. “I know that you have been struggling, my love. I’ve noticed that you suffer in silence when you think no one is watching.” His words became a mere whisper. The lump on his throat grew as he saw her expression. She seemed… terrified. This was hurting more than he anticipated. “No, no, don’t get me wrong.” He sighed, his head hanging low. “I don’t know what will be of me if you leave, my love.” He averted his gaze, not wanting for her to see the tears running down his cheeks. “I just want to be where you are.” Persephone forced the king to turn his head to see her. She was just as sad as he was. She lovingly kissed his tears away and smiled softly. “Then why do this? I am okay, my king!” She whispered. Was she truly clueless about how she was wasting away in the land of the dead? She had to know. He saw her conflict and effort to remain her perky self. Hades lightly pressed his cold lips against her warm ones, and as he pulled back he rose his hand, kissing the back of it one more time. “I know you want to be here.” He hoped it was true. “And I have a way for you to always come back to me.” Hades whispered. “But up there is where… you…” Every word was killing him. “belong.” Hades’ affliction was visible. His tears kept coming. He wished nothing more than for his lovely queen to thrive in their kingdom. Hades was silent for a long moment, as she spoke. She begged not to return to her mother’s clutches, afraid that Demeter would not let her come back. What she didn’t know was that his gift had not only been a garden but an anchor. If she ate the seeds of pomegranate, the goddess was bound to the underworld. It was a cheap trick to fool Demeter and Zeus, but it was his last resort. Their walk cam full circle and they found themselves back in the center where the tree stood proudly. He reached out and plucked one of the fruits. Hades cracked it open and smiled, holding the leathery red-colored berry, revealing the ruby-like seeds. His long fingers picked a few of them and handed them to the goddess. He had to be careful, for if she ate too many, her suffering would return. She could only endure so much and Hades thought six months in his realm was her limit. Each seed meant to force the consumer to remain in his world for a month, so the dark lord of the dead realm gave Persephone six seeds. “Your mother can’t say no to this. If you eat these seeds, you have to return to me.” And so she did. Persephone popped the fleshy seeds into her mouth. Now it was not up to the tantrums of his dear old sister, but to fate, and a little magic. Hades had reached his lowest point by dishonesty and deception, but he saw no alternative. The god needed Persephone as she needed the life the mortal world could provide. She was his light and warmth, his life and soul.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER - NEXT CHAPTER