#so is a little bare too rahh

[thousandsonny]

Simpler times @shinmiyovvi

[judesmoonbeauty]

Autumnal Longing

WC: 1,102 Pairing: Jude Jazza x Reader (AFAB) Pronouns: You/Your/She Tags: Fluff, Loneliness, Kisses, Autumn, Established Relationship, SFW Dividers: @.sydneys-graphics

Jude walked into your chambers calling out for you, but you were nowhere to be found, the room was hollow.

He’d been searching for you since he’d returned to Crown castle to surprise you with a seasonal pudding from the bakery you enjoyed. The image of watching you get cutely frustrated as he planned to taunt you with a spoonful of the treat was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Your expressions changed so much that it was one of your habits that endeared you to him, so much so, that he loved nothing more than to forcefully prod them out of you sometimes.

However, he had half a mind to now toss it into the glowing hearth because he couldn’t find you. Growing more and more impatient with your absence, your personal attendant happened to walk by and greeted him with a sign. After learning that you’d been in the garden the entire time helping Victor rake up the fallen leaves, he started towards the outside with click of his tongue.

“She ain’t yers to borrow when ya please’,” he mumbled as he clenched the small dessert box in his hand.

Jude was greeted by the outdoors with a gentle breeze sweeping past him, the air was clear and rejuvenating. When he reached the part of the grounds you were said to be working, it was completely empty, save for extremely giant piles of red and orange leaves.

“Tch, dammit. Where are ya.”

Weaving in between the outlandishly large piles, Jude called your name, but again he was met with silence. When he paused in his search, a shady thorn of loneliness started to prick his heart, as he stared up at the bare treetops wondering where you could be.

His glowing eyes dimmed a little as he thought about how you’d normally would be at the entrance of the castle to greet him with a smile and kiss. And even late into the night, you’d usually lounge against him with your hands laced together as you chatted about your day, or read a book. Jude felt his heart clench with longing as he thought about your normal routine as a couple.

There was no room in his life without you now, you were his balm, the one who promised to travel to the ends of the sky with him, the one who willingly decided to accept his evil, the one ready to plunge straight into hell with him.

“Ridiculous,” he said with gritted teeth.

It was ridiculous that something so trivial like not being able to find you as soon as he got home would make him feel this way, but it did. Jude felt anxious and irritated because it reminded him how you could so easily disappear, and he didn't want you to disappear.

While slowly being swallowed up by these negative thoughts, he vacantly reached for a cigarette with his free hand when his field of vision immediately rolled backwards.

“RAHH!”

With a spray of blood hued leaves, you leapt out of one of the large piles of colorful foliage, grabbed Jude by the shoulders and pulled him backwards, catching him completely off guard.

Pulling him into the fluffy bed of herbage you heard him yell a curse under his breath as something flew from his hand to the ground. While you laughed so hard that your stomach hurt, he looked up into your gleaming eyes that he adored and wished to keep safe. Your smile so wide that even the crescent moon would be envious with how brightly it shone.

“Gotcha!” you playfully said while scrunching your face.

Your long tresses fall forward tickling his cheek as some of the leaves dangle from them, and as soon as Jude picked one of them out, that thorn of loneliness quickly dissolved. Tracing your neck with the tips of his long fingers, the texture of your skin warmed the chilly ache inside himself, and as his hand finally cradled the back of your head, he guided you in for the kiss he’d been longing for.

It was gentle like the lightness of an autumn rain kissing the earth, your taste spreading throughout his body like the sweetness of peaches, and when you had melted completely into his kiss, he swiftly grabbed you and carefully flipped you overhead into lap.

“Ahhh!” You yelled at the sudden movement.

Your chest heaved to catch air as he whispered into your ear from behind, “Who’s got who, princess.”

With a sharp bite on the tip of your ear, Jude tightened his grip around your waist as you lay in between his legs.

“Ouuch!”

“Whine some more for me, princess,” he said as he wrestled you in excitement.

You tried to turn around, but Jude already had the advantage as he wrapped his legs around you, cutting off your chances to fight back. After struggling against him for a moment, you give up and lay against with him on the throne of leaves like you normally would in his study late at night.

“Took you long enough to find me,” you poked playfully.

“Tch, shouldn’t be goin’ off where I can’t find ya in the first place. Makin’ me search like that,” he grumbled as he nuzzled himself into the crook of your neck.

Feeling him nip into your skin like an earnest plea for you not to do something like that again, you stretch your one hand he let go free behind you, and stroke the back of his neck to reassure him.

“Sorry, I must’ve worried you.”

“Think whatcha want,” he said as he pulled you even closer nestling you both further in the crunchy leaves.

Looking up into the late afternoon sky, it continued to weep a downpour of gold, orange and red tears. Letting go of Jude’s neck, you reach out to catch one of the leaves flitting towards you, but Jude’s much larger hand grabbed yours, lacing your fingers quickly with his.

It was his way of saying to never let go of him, and when you lovingly gripped his hand back, he felt calm, whole. Despite the earth shedding itself for winter, the sun showered it's light upon you both, as the embrace you shared swaddled him and yourself with contentment and warmth.

Jude hadn’t forgotten about the pudding that had spilled onto the ground, but for now he wanted to enjoy cursing this warm, peaceful, autumnal moment with you.

Turning your face towards his, he leaned forward to satisfy his longing again with a much deeper, more delicious kiss than before.

Well, it's been a hot minute since I've written anything other than OC fanfics, and translating has kept me busy too. Still, I wanted to write something fall-ish, and I couldn't help but imagine pulling Jude into a pile of beautiful fall leaves. It was planned better in my head anyway. Thanks to @.drachonia for helping me refocus!

Tags: @ichigostellaglynn @atelierquinn @mrslelouch

If you want to be added to or removed from tags please comment below.

[sentientgolfball]

Devotion: Part 4

RAHH I cannot believe I've finally finished this little mini series. sniff. it makes me so happy

Read here or on Ao3

Pairing: Raindrop

Word Count: 13k

Tags: hurt/comfort, small emetophobia, CPR, bones, severe medical conditions/medical talk. I PROMISE its a happy ending

Summary: Dew goes through with the elemental transition. This is the result.

Rain knew something was wrong when Dew did not come to breakfast. His first clue should have been the death grip he had on him all night or the way he said good morning to him. Like it was the last time he ever would. But Rain did not listen to the feeling of a pit slowly opening in his stomach. He told himself he was reading too much into it. If something was wrong Dew would tell him. That was their deal after the night by the lake and Rain trusted him to keep it. 

The second clue was when Cardinal Copia came by the den with a multi ghoul who Rain did not know. He wore a shiny silver mask and the air around him was cold. They came for Dew, asking if he was ready to go. Rain had assumed it was for some Clergy thing, but then Dew asked for a moment alone. Rain pretended not to listen as he picked at his food in the kitchen. He heard Mountain crying. He had never heard him cry before. He heard Aether’s voice but could not make out what he said with how low it came out. The pit grew larger in his stomach as he waited to see if Dew would turn the corner and approach him next.

He waited. 

And he waited. 

Mountain and Aether returned at the same time he heard the door to the den click shut. He tried to ask where Dew was, but he could not quite get the words out properly. Aether told him Mist would be doing his bass lesson for the day. Something definitely was wrong. 

It was not until late in the afternoon he found out. He was walking alone back to the den after lessons. He was taking his normal route back, but when he passed the hall that leads to the summoning rooms he felt a pang in his chest. Something screamed at him to turn. To follow. He tried to shrug it off and continue walking but after one step he turned around. 

He had no idea what was calling to him, but it was near impossible to ignore. The closer he got the more urgent it felt. He started to walk faster. 

He smelled it before he heard it. 

The metallic scent of blood. 

The sharpness of fear. 

The rot of burning flesh. 

Before he could begin to make sense of these smells a loud scream cut through his thoughts. It was one he recognized. It was Dewdrop. 

His heart dropped to his stomach as he began to run as fast as his legs would allow towards the noise. He did not know what was happening but he knew Dew was hurt. He needed to help him. Save him. He needed to kill whoever thought they could touch him. 

He turned a corner sharply which led down a hall he had never seen before. At the end was a large metal door with sigils around the arch. It looked ancient, blackened with time. The moment it came into view he was slammed with a myriad of scents. They were so strong it nearly made him gag. He could hear Dew’s cries clearly. He could feel an intense heat. He ran. 

He ran despite his muscles screaming at him to stop. 

He ran despite his own fear. 

He ran because he could feel Dew dying. 

And then he stopped. 

Not because he wanted to, but because a large hand wrapped around his wrist and yanked  him into an alcove. Suddenly he was face to face with a deadly looking Mountain and Aether. 

“Don’t.” Was all the earth ghoul said. 

“Let me go! Dew is in there, I have to help him!” He pulls and pulls but Mountain’s grip stays strong. 

“We know. That’s why we can’t let you go,” Aether says flatly, though there is a gleam of something else. Something remorseful. But Rain does not care. Because all he heard was no. 

He snarls, baring his serrated fangs, “What do you mean you can’t?” 

“If you stop the ritual now he dies.” Mountain’s grip tightens to the point of pain. 

Rain does not feel it. His mind is too focused on everything else. Ritual? What ritual? Why are Mountain and Aether trying to stop him? Shouldn’t they be trying to help? What is happening to Dew? 

“Let me go.” 

“No.” 

He growls, rearing back best he can with his claws out with full intent to strike Mountain. He can worry about the consequences later. All that matters is saving Dew’s life.

He does not get that far though. His limbs suddenly feel as heavy as a stone dropped into a lake, sinking down and down until it hits the bottom. He is limp in Mountain’s arms. He screams at his body to move, but his muscles do not even twitch. Mountain fully picks him up and cradles him to his chest. Aether steps into his field of visions, a slight glow to his eyes under the sheen of wetness. 

“I’m sorry.” Is all he says before they begin walking away from the metal door. Away from the screams and the scent of death. Away from Dew.

~~~

Three weeks have passed since Dew’s elemental transition. 

Three long weeks. 

He still is not awake. Rain still barely sleeps. He spends his nights by Dew’s infirmary bed, watching and waiting to see if something changes. To make sure nothing happens. To be here so he is not alone when he wakes up. 

Tonight is no different. He had finished his lessons with Mist for the day before heading back to the den to sleep while he could. He got a few hours in, but they were restless and full of nightmares. Just like every other day. He woke up a little after dinner and grabbed the Tupperware full of food with his name on it before he made his way down to the infirmary. 

This is his new routine. It is just normal for him now. It has to be this way. He could, in theory, visit during the day like everyone else, but he does not. He cannot. He refuses to face any of them. Not without Dew. 

Fuck, Dew. 

Rain stops reading when the lump in his throat threatens to choke him. It does not matter anyway, he is not paying attention to the story. Has not been for a while now. He just reads to pass the time. And some part of him hopes Dew can hear him even if he is unconscious. Hopes that maybe it brings him some kind of comfort knowing he is not alone. 

He sets the book down and stretches in his chair, rubbing his hand over his face. He pinches the bridge of his nose to fight off the sharp sting in the corners of his eyes. He keeps his gaze downward, staring at the pristine white floor. 

“Sorry Dew. You’ll have to wait till tomorrow to find out who killed the queen.” He swallows thickly and slowly lifts his head. 

It never gets any easier to look at him. His brain still has trouble understanding that it is him. That is because it does not look like Dew. Not his Dew. His Dew is loud and confident and always doing something with his hands. But this bandaged, catatonic body is his Dew. No matter how much he wants it to not be. 

He still remembers how it felt to see him for the first time after the ritual. It was not until the day after. He had been trapped in his room with Mountain the rest of the day prior. Aether had to rush to the infirmary when it ended. Something had gone wrong and they needed every quintessence ghoul before they lost him. Mountain had to physically restrain him so he did not follow. It took Rain a long, long time to calm down. Once he did though, Mountain finally began to explain everything to him. 

He had learned elemental transitions were more than just myth. That they were possible, but just as dangerous as the old ghoul tales said. He learned Dew was attempting to become fire for reasons even Mountain did not know. But he wanted to. And despite how hard he tried to convince him otherwise Dew wanted to. He learned about Delta. He learned about that strange multi ghoul from breakfast. A chimera they call Special. He learned about Mountain’s fight with Dew. He learned about Mountain’s regrets. 

Neither of them had slept that night. They stayed awake with each other, waiting for some kind of news from Aether. It did not come until early morning. The sound of Mountain’s phone ringing felt like a death knell. In one click of a button they would know whether or not Dew was still alive. Rain had to look away when he answered the call. He did not want to see the expression on Mountain’s face. He nearly cried when all he heard was a quiet he’s alive. 

Aether never ended up coming back to the den. He refused to leave Dew’s side now that he was finally stable. He said they could come visit though, but he would understand if they did not. He warned them it was an unpleasant scene. Looking back on it now, Rain almost wishes he had heeded the warning. Waited another day so he would not have to see Dew in the state that he did. But he did not. He could not. The moment he was told he could finally be near him again he was out the door. 

Mountain made him wait though. He wanted everyone to go down together. Rain did not protest only because he saw between the lines. He wanted to give everyone the chance to say goodbye. He wanted to protest. He wanted to run all the way down to the infirmary and hear Dew’s voice again. He wanted to scream at Mountain for being so pessimistic; don’t you want him to live? But he did not. He waited with as much patience as he could while Mountain gathered the rest of the pack. 

Nobody else knew what had happened, Dew had made sure of that. But they were not stupid. They had pieced together that something was wrong, much like Rain. Though the look on Multi’s face as they walked to the infirmary set off something in Rain. He looked guilty. He looked nervous. Not the same kind of nervous that everyone else was. Something else. It would be days before Rain finally found out why. 

When they arrived at the infirmary Aether was waiting for them at the front desk. He looked tired. His eyes were puffy and had dark circles under them. He reeked of burnt flesh and fear. There was a stain on his scrubs that he tried to hide but Rain saw it peeking out from under his white coat. In that moment he should have known what was waiting for him. But he continued on. He had to. He had to be with Dew. 

Aether explained to everyone what happened. Why Dew had been missing all of yesterday. Cumulus was horrified. Multi had a perfect mask of disbelief but Rain could see its cracks. Even Cirrus looked shaken. He gave them all the same warning he gave Mountain and Rain over the phone. He told them it was okay if they did not want to follow or if they needed to leave. He assured them Dew would understand. Rain did not believe him. 

They all trailed after Aether to a room in the very back of the infirmary, the closest one to Omega’s office. Rain had to stop himself from gagging as they approached. The scent of rot was strong and sour. It made his stomach churn. But he was told Dew is alive. He is alive and that is all that matters. It will be fine. It will be fine. 

He and Mountain were the last ones to enter the small room. The sight that greeted them made ice run through his veins. His ear rang. All he could do was stare as it burned itself into his memory. There on the bed was Dewdrop or rather Dewdrop’s body. He was alive in the physical sense, Rain could see the shallow rise and fall of his chest. But he was not alive. 

His eyes were closed and he was unmoving. Bandages covered his arms all the way up to his neck and down his torso. His tail was completely wrapped as well. Some were soaked through with who knows what. His skin looked raw. The parts of his fingers that Rain could see were charred black. His hair looked yellow, like a piece of paper left out in the sun for too long. His right horn was missing. There were blisters all over. There were needles in his arms and a mask over his face all connected to the beeping machines. 

Aether began to explain Dew’s condition. How the machines were helping to keep him stable. But Rain barely heard it. Everything had sounded muffled. He did not feel like he was in his body as he stared at Dew. It could not be him. This could not be real. This was just another nightmare. He would wake up and Dew would be right next to him telling him to go back to sleep. So why was he still there? Why was he not waking up? Dew would shake him awake if it got too bad, so why was he not waking up? 

He had felt lightheaded as reality began to creep up on him. He had run out of the room, out of the infirmary, so fast Mountain did not even have time to call his name. He ran and he ran and he ran until he was on the shore of the lake. How he got there was a blur, but he did not stop. He dove into the cool water and swam down until he found a giant tree trunk with a moss lined hole. He had spent the rest of the day there, curled up in Dewdrop’s nest. 

He sighs and stands from his chair. He stretches and winces when his back and shoulders pop. He does not think he will ever be able to forget seeing Dew like that. Even if…when he makes a full recovery that image will be burned into his mind. Although, he is looking much better than he was three weeks ago. Ghoulish healing can be thanked for that. His limbs are still charred black and his hair yellow, but they all figure that those are just traits of his new element. The gnarly blisters that covered seem to be fading. He is not totally bandaged anymore, just over the sensitive parts. Where his fins and gills used to be. Still has that tube and mask on though. 

Actually that reminds him. It is time to change his bandages. Rain walks over to the cabinet next to the door. He opens the top cupboard to grab the roll of gauze along with a small sponge. He wets the sponge in the sink and squeezes the excess water out before walking back over to Dew’s bed. 

Aether showed him how to do this the first time he caught him down here well into the night. Rain had asked him how he could stand to do this every day. Take care of someone he loved as if they were a normal patient when he did not know if they were going to live or die. Aether told him it is the worst he has ever felt. But he could not stop. Nothing would stop him from taking care of him. Because Aether knows he is strong. Aether knows he will get through this. He just needs time and a little bit of help. He told Rain it was the same reason he kept visiting even though he ran out of the room that first day. He knows Dew is still there and that he needs someone. Rain had offered a hand that night. Aether was a little hesitant at first, but ultimately gave in. Ever since then whenever he needs his bandages changed the task is left for Rain. 

He carefully begins to unwrap the old gauze from his arms. The sight of the sharp little ridges where his fins used to be never gets easier to look at. Not because his gorgeous colors are gone, the obsidian black that fades into the new honey color of his skin is just as breathtaking, but because Rain cannot imagine the pain. That is all he thinks about when he sees Dew. How much pain he must be in. And there is nothing Rain can do about it. Both Aether and Omega have assured him time and time again that Dew cannot feel anything in his state, but Rain finds no comfort in that thought. 

Rain sighs and begins to gently clean his skin, careful of the healing blisters, “The first thing we’re doing when you wake up is taking a shower. I’ve a brand new bottle of the shampoo you like.” 

They have not been able to wash Dew’s hair since the ritual. Rain knows he would hate that. Three weeks without a proper hair care routine. He would claw someone’s eye out if he knew. In the meantime though Rain has been using his allowance to stock up on all the products Dew likes to use. He wants him to have nice things whenever he wakes up. That and Rain has taken to using the half empty bottles sitting in Dew’s shower. Every time he pops the cap and gets a whiff of that sea lavender scent it is like Dew is with him again. He feels it is only fair to get him new products if Rain is going to selfishly use what he already has. 

After Rain is done cleaning his arm with the sponge, he sets it off to the side so he can rewrap it. He starts hand first, gently giving it a squeeze before methodically wrapping each finger. Aether said at this point the only things that need covered are the parts of him that are charred black. Rain takes it to heart, making sure not an inch is visible. The last thing he needs is Dew’s condition getting worse because he got lazy. 

When he finishes with the first arm he presses a kiss to his bandaged knuckles and repeats the process for the other. Unwrap, clean, rewrap, kiss. 

“There we go,” he brushes a stray piece of hair off Dew’s forehead, “nice and clean.” 

He gathers the roll of gauze and the sponge, walking back over to the cabinets and sink. He puts the roll away and sets the sponge out to dry. He zones out while he washes his hands. Everything has felt fuzzy since the day Rain heard his screams. It is like he is not even there, but his body knows what to do. If it were not for the little calendar on the human device he was given he would never know what day it was. They all feel the same. Nothing changes. His routine never changes. Dew never changes. 

Well for the most part. 

The sound of beeping snaps Rain back into reality. His stomach drops all the way back to the Pits. He has tuned out the noises all of the machines attached to Dew make. If he is hearing it then something is wrong. He runs over to his bedside without even turning the sink off. His heart pounds so hard he can hear it in his ears. He freezes with his hands hovering over Dew. His breath is quick as he snaps between staring at the monitor and back down to him. 

He waits. 

All he can do is wait. He has no idea what any of the numbers mean on the screens. He watches the green line at the very top as the waves spike. Which one did Aether say that was? Why can he not remember? He has to remember. He has to know what is wrong so he can fix it. He has to fix it. He has to help Dew. He has to protect Dew. He has to. He has to. He has to. 

He cannot breathe. 

He cannot think.

He feels cold. 

He feels hot. 

He. 

He pauses. 

His eyes refocus and he can see the line looks the same again. The slightly faster beeping has returned to normal. It really was just a spike. His heart rate just got a little faster and then went right back to normal. That is all it was. It is not anything more. If it was, Omega would have run in here by now. But it is still just him and Dew. 

He feels sick. 

He takes a few deep breaths before clamping his hand over his mouth and running out of the room. He makes a beeline for the bathroom that is across the hall. He bursts inside, hitting his knees in front of the toilet just in time. His body curls in on itself as he vomits. He spits a few times before finally lifting his head. He reaches up and flushes the toilet as he scoots over to lean against the wall. His gills flutter as he takes in air. He stares up at the ceiling but he does not see the plain white tile. He sees the day he heard the beeping for the first time. 

It had been about five days since the ritual. Not even a full week yet. His condition was still extremely fragile. Omega or Aether was constantly in the room, they did not dare to leave him without a quintessence ghoul close by. It was the second time Rain had come to visit after he ran out of the room on day one. Mountain had found him sitting alone on the shore of the lake, curled into a little ball while the waves lapped at his feet. He had asked if Rain wanted to join him on his visit to see Dew that day. Everything inside of him had screamed yes, but his body was frozen. The words were stuck. It has been like this since he saw Dew’s body. 

Mountain has been able to see right through him though. With Dew in the state that he is, Mountain has become the driftwood Rain clings to in the storm. So he hoisted Rain up, hugged him tight, and held his hand while they walked back to the Ministry. 

As they went, Rain asked him how he could do this. How could he just go in there and sit with his broken body? How he could stand the silence. Mountain had squeezed his hand and told him he hated every minute of it. He hated seeing Dew like that. Hated knowing he had tried to stop it and failed. Hated knowing one of the last things they had done before all of this was argue and fight. But he hated leaving him behind even more. He hated the idea of Dew being alone even more. He wanted to cry every time he saw him, and most times he did, but that would not stop him from being there for his little lily. Mountain’s words gave Rain a lot to think about. 

When they arrived at the infirmary, it was Aether who was on duty. That was not surprising. Rain was confident Aether would be here all hours if not for Omega forcing him to rest by taking the night shifts. He was in the middle of changing Dew’s IV bag when they walked in. He had given them a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. It was practiced. Something learned from dealing with patient after patient since his summoning. 

Mountain had given him a hug while Rain took his usual spot in the chair next to the window. He liked to look outside while he was in here. It was still so hard at the time to actually look at Dew. Whenever he did all he could see were the tubes and the needles. All he could hear was his cracked screams. All he could smell was rot. But he wanted to check on him. He always did. Staring out the window was his way of coping. 

Mountain and Aether had been talking in hushed voices next to Dew’s bed. Rain does not remember what they said. He does not remember if he was even listening in because of what happened next. 

It all happened so fast. 

Too fast. 

One moment he was staring at the cardinal that had perched on the tree branch close to the glass and the next his ears were pierced with a loud noise. He turned just as Aether shouted and Omega ran into the room. Mountain was plastered to the wall, staring at Dew with a mix of disbelief and horror. Rain had no idea what that sharp noise meant but he knew it was not good. He did not even have time to ask what was going on before Aether placed his palms on Dew’s chest and began to rhythmically press down. 

There were tears streaming down his face. 

He begged Dew to come back. 

The sound of cracking and popping as Aether pounded on his chest made Rain sick. He had finally realized what exactly happened. 

Dew died. 

His heart stopped. 

He was dead. 

Rain could not look away as Omega placed his hands over Aether’s. He could see their mouths moving but he did not hear their words. All he could hear was the ringing in his ears. He watched as sparks of purple flashed from Omega’s hands and through Dew’s body. He convulsed with it, twitching and arching up. The scent of ozone was so thick it had practically choked him. 

Another spark. 

Another twitch. 

Spark. 

Twitch. 

Spark. 

Twitch. 

One more spark and the sharp noise was gone. The sound of beeping Rain had yet to tune out returned. Omega had sighed and slowly pulled his shaking hands off of Dew. Aether had refused to let go. He had stopped pressing on Dew’s chest but he did not lift his hands. Omega had to pull him away. He had slumped so heavily against him Rain was certain he was going to fall over. He could tell Aether was crying by the way his shoulders shook but he could not hear his sobs. Everything had sounded muffled, like he was sitting at the bottom of the lake. The ringing only got louder as he watched bruises bloom on Dew’s chest. 

He had felt cold and clammy. He could feel sweat starting to prickle on his skin. He had looked up when he saw movement. Mountain and Aether were clinging to each other. Omega was approaching him. He had spoken to him but Rain did not hear the words. The last thing he remembered before his vision went black was Omega quickly reaching forward to stop him from falling out of his chair. 

When he had woken up he was in his room. He was alone. His head had still felt heavy, but nothing close to what it had been in the infirmary. He had been confused. He did not remember coming back here. He did not remember leaving Dew’s room. 

All at once it had come back to him. Dew. Dew had died. But he was not dead anymore right? Aether and Omega brought him back right? It was all so fuzzy. He needed to find out though. The uncertainty weighed on him. It felt like his skin was crawling. He could not lay in bed while he did not know if the ghoul he…cared for was still breathing. 

He wobbled on his feet when he stood, but he had to ignore it. He had to go find Mountain or Aether and figure out what had happened. 

When he opened his door and stepped into the hallway all he could smell was the sour scent of grief. It had hit him so hard he could not help but wrinkle his face in disgust. That only made him feel worse. If grief was so strong it was choking him then something was wrong. Luckily Aether’s room is right next to his so he did not have to go far. He stood outside of his door, but did not open it right away. He could hear crying and muffled voices. Despite himself he had pressed his finned ear to the door to figure out what was happening. 

He heard Mountain and Aether. Aether was crying so hard Rain had no idea how he was getting air in his lungs. Mountain was doing his best to comfort him, but his deep voice wavered with every word. He tried to remind him that he was alive. Omega got him back. It was obvious to Rain that he was saying it for both of their sakes. 

He could have entered the room. He could have sought out his own comfort from those two. The two people who cared about Dew just as much as him. More than him. But he did not. He had felt something gnawing in his stomach. Something that told him he was an outsider in this. That his grief was nothing in comparison to Aether and Mountain. And no one was there to challenge him. The one person who would have was unconscious in an infirmary bed. So Rain took it to heart. He changed his routine. He stopped going to visit Dew with Mountain. Stopped going during the day all together. That is why he spends his nights by Dew’s side now. 

A knock on the bathroom door frame pulls him from that memory. Quickly he is reminded of the taste of bile on his tongue. He wrinkles his nose and turns his head to see who came looking. He would expect Omega or maybe one of the human nurses, but who he sees is much better. A tall, slender figure with skin as white as snow and hair as black as ink. It clung to his face as if it was wet, but Rain knew if he touched it it would feel dry. It covered half of his face, leaving only one void like eye visible. His head felt like TV static before a raspy voice echoed in his mind. 

Are you okay? 

“Great, Delta. Everything is just great.” Rain turned his head to look back up at the ceiling again. 

You know I can tell when you lie. 

Rain grumbles. Of course he knew that. To be honest, he was kind of glad he could. Delta has been an unforeseen light in all of this. Just like himself, Delta only visits at night. He does not come often, but he does show up at least once a week. He still remembers the very first time he saw the ghoul he has only ever heard stories about. 

It was the third night in a row he had spent by Dew’s bed since he flatlined. There have been no other complications so far, but that did not stop the ever present cloud of worry that raged over Rain’s head. He was pretty sure he was starting to go crazy from it. Dark circles had begun to form under his eyes and it seemed like he had a headache more often than not. He was fatigued. He had barely slept since. Barely ate. All he wanted to do was watch Dew as if somehow his presence would stop anything else from happening. At the very least someone would be there if something did happen. 

But this was the third night. He was going to crash and he knew it. Still he fought it off, squeezing his eyes shut before opening again. Forcing himself to stay awake. Stay vigilant. He had stood up, figuring if he stayed in his chair any longer he would pass out. He had walked over to the window and stared out at the night. The moon was full. He was sure She was the only reason he had not collapsed yet. He stayed like that for a moment, staring at Her glow and the shining stars. He wondered if Dew could feel Her in his unconscious state. He wondered if he could feel Her at all, if there was any water left in him. 

He had sighed, knocked his horns against the glass, and then turned back around. He had jumped out of his skin when he did. A tall white figure with black hair and black eyes was staring down at Dew. Its head was tilted curiously. Rain was not sure if he had finally broken. If his mind was just making things up. For a brief moment he wondered if this is what Death looked like. 

Then it felt like there was static all around him and he heard a voice in his head. It assured him he was not Death, though Rain was not the first to think that. He told Rain he was the first ghoul, in Ministry history at least, to attempt an elemental transition. He was Delta. 

Rain was immediately cautious. He had heard the stories about Delta from Mountain. How the unstable quintessence in his body would jump out and shock people. He had no idea what would happen if Dew got shocked. Quint had brought him back and he was sure it could easily take him away. Delta had told him he would not be here if he thought he was going to be trouble. Rain told him to get out of his head. Delta asked him why he hurts himself. 

That had made Rain pause. He was not hurting himself? What was this crazy ghoul on about? He did not dignify him with a response, instead he had sat down with a huff and an eye roll. After staring at Dew for a moment longer, Delta had walked over to Rain. He stared down at him with those void like eyes. Completely silent. It made Rain squirm. When the silence had stretched for too long he snapped at Delta and told him to leave. 

Instead he just blinked slowly and asked him the same question. Rain was exhausted and drained and had no more patience left in him. To Hell with the stories about this ghoul he would make him leave. He has stood up with full intention to force Delta from the room. But then he heard his voice in his head again. 

You can’t take care of him if you’re dead. 

It had made Rain pause. He was sure Delta was threatening him and he called him out on it. Delta had just shook his head and began to tell Rain everything that was wrong with him physically. His cortisol levels were unbelievably high. Blood pressure as well. He could feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach and the heaviness of his head. He had also said the colors surrounding him looked bleak. He would not be surprised if Rain got sick in a few days. 

That is what made him realize what Delta had actually meant. If he did not take care of himself, he could not take care of Dew. Maybe it was because he had been exhausted or maybe it was because Delta was first to really check on him, but a thin sheen of tears coated his eyes. He had blinked them back and flopped down into his chair again. He does not remember what happened after that, but he does remember waking up in his bed with the lingering feeling of static on his skin. 

Ever since that night Delta has made it a point to check on Rain. He does not seem concerned with Dew’s condition which is both off putting but also comforting in a way. If the only other ghoul to have gone through this process is not worried, then that means he is fine right? 

Delta is now in the bathroom staring down at Rain. He pulls a little travel sized toothbrush from his pocket and hands it to him. He sighs and pulls himself up off the floor, taking it from him. He is beyond grateful that someone looks for him. Mountain would only ever seek him to ask if he wants to come with him to see Rain. Aether is never around, too busy taking care of Dew and the rest of the infirmary during the day. They are both kind to him, but they ask him how he is doing. Not really. If not for Delta visiting that night he probably would have run himself into the ground. 

What happened? Delta asks while he watches Rain brush his teeth. 

He spits into the sink, “Heard one of the machines beep. It just reminded me of…” 

He squeezes his eyes shut and grips the side of the porcelain with his free hand. He shakes his head and finishes cleaning the taste of bile from his mouth. When all he knows is mint he flips the faucet off and crosses the hall back into Dew’s room. Delta tails after him, though he does not step in all the way. Rain raises an eyebrow at him. 

I came to see Omega, but then I felt your distress and had to stop. 

Rain nods, “Well I appreciate it.” 

He really does. Even if he had not necessarily been coming to see Rain, he still made it a point to check on him. It made him feel less alone in the dark of the night. 

Delta stares at him for a moment before his voice echoes again, He dreams of you. 

Without another word he turns and goes to find Omega in his office. Rain blinks at the space he was standing and then looks over at Dew. This is not the first time Delta has said something like this. Talking as if he could hear or feel the things in Dew’s head. Rain did not know if he believed him or not. Neither Aether or Omega could hear his thoughts with their quintessence. They knew his consciousness was still in there, but they could not get anything discernible from it. 

Is Delta being truthful or is it just ramblings from a ghoul with a void where his soul should be? 

Despite the voice in the back of his head, Rain chose to believe him. It made him feel better to imagine that Dew was dreaming. It made it seem like he really was just sleeping rather than being trapped in this catatonic state. Maybe if he could dream then he could hear when Rain read to him and feel when he touched him. He hopes so. He knows how much Dew hates the silence. 

Now that Delta is gone, Rain is back to being alone. No, not alone. Dew is here. Dew is always here so he never spends his nights alone. Still, it best increasingly harder each night to fun ways to entertain himself while he watches over Dew. He does not like to read too much in one night, spread the story out a bit for both of them. That and his voice gets scratchy if he does for too long. He could play on that little human device, a phone he was told, but the screen hurts his eyes. It’s too bright. 

Instead of sitting and counting the ceiling tiles, there are thirty two, he digs through the bottom cabinets on the unit near the door. Ever since he has started to spend his nights down here, Omega has left things down here for him. Sometimes there are non-perishable snacks and water. Sometimes it is a book he thinks Rain will like. Sometimes it’s a note with a song recommendation to listen to on his phone. Rain appreciates the effort he goes through. Quite a lot. With Dew like this no one has really taken to showing him things about Topside. 

Mist became his bass instructor, but she is rather intense. He is not surprised, she is from The Deep after all. They are solitary ghouls by nature so he cannot even begin to imagine what being surrounded by a whole pack at all times is like for her.

 Their lessons are nothing like what it was with Dew. They fill the entire hour and half with exercises. The last fifteen minutes are saved to work him through songs on the setlist. He has learned a lot, he cannot deny this, but he misses the warmth from Dew. It feels rude to call her cold, but it really is the best word. She meets with him, gets right to work, and then says her farewells when it is over. Rain can tell this is something she is used to, teaching new ghouls. But that is where the problem lies. He is not necessarily a friend to her, but just another water ghoul that is still getting used to living in a different world. He is a job. 

Mountain and Aether are really the only ghouls he could rely on, but they are not there. Not entirely. They are kind of course, but with the stress of Dew’s condition it is easy to see the apprehension in their eyes. They are tired and Rain is not surprised neither of them feel like holding Rain’s hand and helping him navigate all this new stuff that has become second nature to them. He does not blame them, but a small part of them wishes they would just do something. Anything. It is the same part of him that hoped his family would welcome him back in when he was still in the Pits. It is naive. 

He could go to the older ghouls that he sees walking around, like Alpha or Chain or Ifrit, but he does not know them at all. At least with Aether and Mountain he sort of has an idea of who they are. But now that he has been spending time in the infirmary he knows Omega. Sure he was there at his summoning, but all he did was take a chunk out of the poor ghoul’s arm. He still does not know him very well and he does not force Rain to try. He still does something though. He still makes an attempt to show Rain things even if it is not directly. It is nice. 

Tonight Omega left a small empty sketchbook and some colored pencils. Rain smiles softly when he opens the cabinet and sees them. How he knows Rain likes art even though he has never said anything is beyond him, but he is glad. Probably some weird quintessence stuff, but he chooses not to think too hard about that. Instead Rain grabs the items and settles back down in his chair. 

“What should I draw?” He looks at Dew for a few seconds as if asking the question will magically make him wake. 

When he does not get a response he hums and opens the box of colored pencils. He takes out the orange one and taps it against the paper. He closes his eyes. He remembers the flowers that had sat on Dew’s nightstand until recently. They were bright oranges and yellows with little bits of black on the petals. He has no idea what they are called, but he thought they were gorgeous. They wilted so they are no longer in the room, but Rain thinks it cannot be too hard to draw them from memory. 

He takes a deep breath and then opens his eyes again. The colored pencils are sharp. Never been used before. Rain moves the tip of it across the paper carefully, as if it was as delicate as an actual flower. He tries to recall the shape of the vase and how many were in it. How they looked bunched together. 

He gets a basic sketch down before grabbing the red and the yellow pencils. He is not exactly looking to make a fully completed masterpiece, just something to add color into this room. Something more permanent than the handful of flowers that get left every few days. Rain hates seeing wilt. 

It is nice though. Having something to focus on besides the quiet and the drone of machines. Just for a moment it makes all the voices in his head stop. Just for a moment all that exists is the page in front of him and how he plans to fill it. Art has always been a passion of his, and a distraction. When he wants the world to disappear he finds a way to create his own. It is how he stays sane. It is his favorite thing about being Topside. Under the waves he was limited, though that certainly did not stop him. But up here he can draw and paint and write. He has plenty of ways to distract himself from everything. Dew’s fate. His loneliness. Whether he should trust this new pack or not. 

His love for Dew. 

The red colored pencil breaks and the wax tip rolls down the page and onto the floor. His eyes track it as it goes, rolling and rolling until it disappears under the infirmary bed. His hand tightens around the pencil until his knuckles are white. He heaves a sigh and drops it though before it breaks. 

His love for Dew. 

There is no denying that is what he feels, but he tries to not name it when he can help it. Something about that word just does not feel right on his tongue. It never has. He has loved and been loved many times in his unnatural life, but each time it ends with another piece of him missing. He thinks maybe, just maybe, if he calls this anything but love it will be different. He will not lose Dew if he never calls it what it is. 

He sighs and slumps in his chair, tossing his head back to stare at the ceiling. What was wrong with him? Spent nearly a decade alone in the ocean and he falls for the first ghoul who smiled at him when he popped out of the ground. Of course he did. He has always been a romantic at heart, it is why he has ended up in so many positions where he came to realize all he is is his status. 

Or. Was. 

Even when he was alone, exiled from his family, the other ghouls he ran into recognized him. His bioluminescent patterns made sure anyone with working eyes could see who he was. All that mattered was he had power and he was vulnerable. But up here that does not matter. Up here there are no nobles or royals or anything close to the sort. Up here he can just be Rain. Maybe that is why he is dumb enough to fall into Dew so easily. He cannot be after his status if he does not have one. 

Or maybe it is just Dew. 

Maybe it is too hard for him to resist his soft hair and big, bright eyes. Or the way his nose scrunches when he laughs. Or the way his fins flare when he is nervous or embarrassed. Or how when he blushes it covers his entire face and neck. Or how he always takes care of him without making him feel stupid. Or the way he shimmers when he sits in the sun. Or how he lets him cry after the nightmares. Or how when he smiles his fangs poke out from under his lip. Or how when he finally kissed him it was like he was seeing his lover for the first time in years. Or how when he—

Rain’s head snaps up when he hears movement from the hallway. He glances at the digital clock on the table by Dew’s bed to see it is almost three in the morning. Who could be out there? It is not Delta, Rain would have felt that strange feeling of static that seems to follow him. If Delta has not left yet then it cannot be Omega. That and Rain always makes sure to wait and come until after Omega has done his last check up for the night. 

Could someone else be visiting? In the middle of the night? He supposes that it is not totally out of the ordinary. Usually he is by himself in the darkness, but there have been a couple of times where he has encountered someone else. Other than Delta of course. But Delta has become welcome company. 

The first time he ran into another was only a few days ago. At the beginning of the week if he remembers correctly. He had been running late. He had overslept after his lessons with Mist and still felt groggy when he woke. He had stumbled out of bed in a hurry once he realized what time it was. There would be no real repercussions for being late, the schedule was his own after all, but it had made his stomach twist nonetheless. He had left so fast he completely forgot to grab his dinner from the fridge. 

When he got down to the infirmary the door to Dew’s room was ajar. He had paused to scent the air. The door was never just left open unless someone forgot to close it. He had crept closer, still searching for the scent. He wrinkled his snot when he finally caught it. That unmistakable sweet yet sour scent of humanity. But there was an undertone of something else. Something that smelled like the Pits. He stopped just outside the door to listen, he wanted to figure out who was in there with his Dewdrop. 

He turned his finned ears towards the crack. When he had heard the sound of the words of the Morning Star muttered in a thick accent he had realized who it was. It was that man, Cardinal Copia. His summoner. He had no idea why he was here when it was his fault Dew was like this. He was not stupid. It did not take Rain long to figure out the Cardinal had a hand in Dew’s ritual. It had made his blood boil knowing he was in there instead of Rain. 

But he had not moved from his spot. He had to gather information before he attacked. He was not a mindless beast. He perked his ears and focused in on the sound of his voice. 

Praying. He was praying. Not only was he praying to the Morning Star, but to Lord Buer. The great Lord of Healing. This had piqued Rain’s interest immensely. Why was the one who caused this begging for it to be undone? It was too late to realize his mistake. The damage had already been done. His remorse did nothing to quell the heat of anger in Rain’s body. Infernal Blessing be damned, Rain would risk banishment to get just one good hit in on the Cardinal. If Dew did not get to leave that room unscathed then neither should anyone else involved. 

He had been ready to push open the door with fang and claw barred when something else caught his attention. Crying. The Cardinal was crying. He finished his prayers with a choked off Nema. Rain had thought that was it. He was going to get up and leave and he could spend the night with Dew. Alone. But the Cardinal had stayed. He had sat there and apologized to Dew. Over and over again he had said it was his fault. He should have done something different. Should have waited. Should have had anyone else do it. Should have told the Clergy no. 

Rain still was not sure he trusted or even liked the Cardinal, but maybe he had less control than Rain initially thought. It was still fault though that Dew was like this and he would not forget this fact anytime soon. Even so, he had taken a deep breath and sheathed his claws and pushed the door open. 

Rain stands from his chair and shuffles over to the door, laying the sketchbook and colored pencils down on the little nightstand. Maybe he is just hearing things? Either way he might as well check. Maybe the Cardinal is coming back for another visit. Or one of the other ghouls. Part of him hopes it is neither of those options. 

He pokes his head into the hallway. Looking right he just sees Omega’s office door. It’s cracked open and there is a soft light spilling out. If he focuses he can hear Omega talking, presumably replaying to whatever Delta is saying. Looking to the right he jumps a little when he catches the gaze of a human. One he recognizes. He does not remember her name, but she is one of the ones who works here. She gives him a polite smile in greeting before heading into one of the other rooms that are occupied.

Rain returns the smile though he is sure it looks more like a grimace than anything. How out of it is he if he gets all antsy just from the nurse doing her rounds? He really needs to sleep more. Maybe he can start skipping his bass lessons? No he is confident Mist would just show up and drag him down to the practice rooms. But that is all there really is cut out. Maybe he could get away with it. He has gotten away with avoiding Multi’s incessant invitations to the group rehearsal time for the new ghouls. 

Multi. 

Rain scoots his chair closer to Dew’s bed and sits back down with a huff. There was something about that ghoul that Rain did not like. Even if he ignores the fact that Multi nearly killed both of them by trying to shove himself into the Light meant for Rain, there is still something that makes Rain’s fins itch. That blinding smile hides something. 

Though Rain has a bit of an idea what that could be. It was Multi who interrupted his time with Dew yesterday after all. Rain is still angry about it, but he did learn something valuable so he cannot be too upset. 

Same as before with the Cardinal, Rain had immediately noticed something was not right. The door was closed when he had arrived at his normal time, but that was not out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was the musky scent of each of the elements. Ozone and petrichor and citrus and smoke and fresh dirt. A multi ghoul was in Dew’s room. And there was only one multi ghoul Rain knew. 

Once again Rain had pressed his ear to the door. Water ghouls may be known for their strong sense of smell, even by ghoul standards, but their hearing was a close second. He had held his breath to focus. To see if he could hear anything. 

He did. He had heard Multi’s deep, smooth voice clear as day. Though what he said Rain had yet to figure out the meaning. 

You have to wake up. I can’t take your place. Don’t make me do this, please Dewdrop. 

Rain was pissed when he first heard Multu say it and a day later he is still pissed. Take Dew’s place? What does that even mean? How could he possibly take Dew’s place? Mountain explained to him that each instrument is associated with an element, something about the humans wanting to preserve the balance, but Multi does not fit into any of them. Sure he has every element running through his veins, but if the whole point is to have a balance then he does not fit. So why the fuck does he think he can replace Dew? 

But fire and quintessence are Multi’s strongest elements. 

Fire. 

Would the humans do that? No they would not. They could not. Dew is going to wake up and he is going to be fine and they will make music together like he promised. It will be him. It will not be Multi. It will be Dew next to him. It has to be Dew. 

Dew cannot die. 

Dew has to wake up. 

Dew is going to wake up. 

He is going to wake up and he will not have any health problems and he will not be replaced and left to rot. He has to. How can Rain do any of this without him? None of these other ghouls care for Rain, not really, but Dew did. Does. He cares about Rain, he knows he does. He cannot go back to living in a world where he is alone. Not after bathing in Dew’s light. 

He cannot. 

He cannot. 

He cannot. 

He cannot. 

Rain grabs Dew’s hand, twining their fingers together despite how Dew still lays still, “Why won’t you come back to me? Please come back to me. I tried so hard, but I can’t take the silence anymore Dewdrop.” 

Rain pauses and takes a deep breath as tears well in his eyes. He brings their laced hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to Dew’s scarred knuckles. He is warm. Warmer than he has ever been. 

He lets out a shaky breath, “Dewdrop please. I don't. I can’t stay up here if you…”

The word gets stuck in his throat. He swallows thickly to clear it.

“I don’t belong up here. I don’t have a place Down Below either but at least I won’t have to watch as your scent fades and your room gets emptied. If you don’t come back to me I can’t stay. The only place I’ve ever belonged is with you. The only place I’ve ever truly felt at peace was next to you in your bed.” 

He drops his head, pressing their twined hands to his forehead, “I need you Dewdrop. I’ve never loved a ghoul like how I love you.” 

He has to stop as a sob wracks his body. He said it. Why did he say it? Every time he says it he ends up alone. Now he knows Dew is going to die. Because Rain is cursed to never have the one thing he has wanted most. Someone to give his heart to. Time and time again he has placed it in others’ hands and again and again they crush it in a bloody fist. He half expects Dew to flatline right this moment now that he said the words out loud. 

His shoulders shake as he openly cries. Nobody is around to hear him. Nobody is ever around. Rain is destined to be the lone ghoul for the rest of his unnatural existence. He cries and he cries and he cries as he finally accepts that Dew is gone. He is not coming back. Rain will never get to hear him laugh again. He will never get to hear him sing. He wanted to hear Dew’s song more than anything. But he never did. He cannot even carry it with him. Will not even be able to replicate it when they have to throw Dew’s body into the water. Dew is lost and Rain does not know what to do except to cry. 

He keeps their hands pressed to his forehead. If this is the last time he will feel Dew’s touch then he will commit it to memory. Those rough calluses and the points of his claws and his warm, leathery skin. 

He cries and he cries and he cries. 

He cries until there is nothing left, reduced to quiet sniffles as he sucks in air. The room is still all except for the sound of his deep breathing and the sound of machines. 

“Rainy baby?” A raspy voice croaks out, breaking the deafening silence. 

Rain freezes. 

He does not lift his head. 

No. 

There is no way. It is just a delusion. He is beyond exhausted and his mind finally snapped just like Delta said. 

He does not move. Not a muscle. Not even when he feels their fingers untangle and shaky hands trail down from his forehead to cup his cheek. Not even when warm, calloused fingers lift his head so dark blue can meet fiery orange and yellow. 

Dew’s eyes are half lidded and he looks just as exhausted as Rain. Even so, there is a little pinch between his brow, “Why’re you crying? Am I,” he coughs, “am I that ugly?” 

He gives Rain a crooked little smile, the best one he can muster. Rain feels like his body was dipped in Arctic waters. He just stares at Dew, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. 

“Rain?” Dew prompts, waiting for him to say or do anything. 

It is funny really. Rain spent the last three weeks thinking about what to do when Dew finally woke up and now that he has, he just freezes. There is not a single thought in his head. Part of him does not even believe this is real. He has to be making it up right? After all this time? Dew is finally here? 

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like a fish out of water. He does not even get the chance to make a noise before the door to the room bursts open. Omega is there, hand still wrapped tight around the knob. He is breathing heavier than normal and his silver mask is nowhere in sight. His wide eyes scan Dew’s body before he finally steps into the room. 

“Dewdrop? Do you know where you are?” Omega says slowly as he walks over to the bedside, eyes never leaving Dew’s face. Like if he looks away he will be unconscious again. 

Dew closes his eyes and shakes his head to the best of his ability. The furrow only deepens, “Yeah yeah. ‘M in the infirmary. Recognize these ugly tiles anywhere.” 

“Good,” Omega clears his throat, “That’s good. Do you remember how you got here?” 

His eyes are still closed and he frowns as he tries to recall what happened, “I…the ritual. The ritual was yesterday. And I’m alive…so it’s because of the ritual right?” 

Omega and Rain lock eyes for a moment before he sighs, “Rain would you please give us a moment?” 

“No!” He says it so fast it surprises even himself, “I mean. I’d rather stay. If you’ll let me.” 

Omega offers him a sympathetic smile, “It will only take a minute. I need to run some quick tests and ask Dewdrop some questions. Just wait in the hall for me okay?” 

Rain swallows and looks over at Dew. His eyes are open again, but he is just staring at the ceiling. The last thing he wants to do is leave Dew now that he has him again, but he does not want to make things worse by staying. Omega said it would be quick. He will be back in here in no time right? 

Hesitantly he stands from the chair and makes his way into the hall. Dew’s eyes track him as he leaves. Rain glances back at him, gaze lingering for what feels like an eternity before cracking the door. He will not close it all the way. He needs to be able to peek in and see him. To hear him. To know he is really real and awake and alive. 

He jumps out his skin when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He quickly whips around to see Delta. His mind is most definitely playing tricks on him, but he swears he can see those void like eyes soften. It all hits him again and before he can even think he launches himself forward. Rain clings to Delta despite the shocks of quintessence. He tucks his nose against the jagged lichtenberg figure scars where his gills used to be. He does not cry, but he shakes like he is. He does not have the words to begin to describe what he is feeling, but he does know he needs someone, anyone. 

Delta is tense for a moment before very slowly wrapping his arms around Rain. He awkwardly reciprocates the hug, like it is the first time he has ever held someone else. He let’s Rain stay for a few more minutes before carefully pulling away, putting a bit of distance between them. 

His staticky voice echoes in Rain’s head, Sorry. If we touched for any longer it would probably start to kill you. 

For a creature that looks as unnatural as Delta, in this moment he almost looks timid. 

Rain just shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, “It’s fine.” 

They stand there in awkward silence for a moment before Rain tries to speak up again, “Delta I—“ 

Before he can finish Omega opens the door and steps out in the hallway with them. Despite the thin sheen of wetness around his eyes his voice does not waiver when he speaks, “He is okay for now. In the morning I am going to run more in depth tests, but until then you may stay with him.” 

Rain does not need to be told twice. He spares one last glance at Delta who only nods at him as he comes to stand next to Omega. Rain gives him a quick nod back before slipping into the room and closing the door. At the noise, Dew turns to look at him and Rain’s chest feels tight. They just stare at each other. They stare and they stare and they stare. Rain’s breathing just grows faster and faster until he cannot take it anymore. He finally breaks the spell by running over to Dew so fast he nearly trips over his own feet. 

He practically flings himself at Dew, crushing him to his chest and burying his nose in his hair. Dew winces at the suddenness of it, but he makes no move to get Rain off. His arms shake as they wrap around Rain with all the strength he has left. He knows he probably should not be doing this with how fragile Dew’s condition has been, but right now he cannot find it in himself to care. Dew is hugging him back. He is moving and awake and speaking and alive. 

“I thought I lost you,” Rain says softly against the top of his head. 

Dew huffs a raspy little laugh, “Oh please. You’re gonna have to kill me yourself if you want me gone.” 

Rain does not respond. He just holds Dew, breathing in his scent. It is different. Under the sterile smell of the infirmary that clings to both of them is something else. It is warm, like cinnamon and campfire. It is nice. 

When the silence stretches for too long Dew speaks again, voice still cracked, “Too soon? Mega gave me an idea of what happened while I was…out.” 

Rain pulls away to look at him. He just smiles and shakes his head before crushing their lips together. He knows he really should not be doing this, but he cannot help himself. Mere moments ago he thought he would have to set Dew’s body to sea and now they are holding each other. He wants to tell Dew how much it hurt seeing him in such a state. How much he missed him. But he does not have the words. Even if he did he does not think they would get the point across. So he puts everything he has into this kiss. 

When they break Dew is grinning up at him, “So I take it you don’t think ugly?” 

“You’re as beautiful as the day I first laid eyes on you.” Rain cups his cheek, gently brushing his thumb over the new dark markings. Like ash and charcoal smeared on canvas. His mind briefly wanders to the unfinished sketch of Dew in his desk drawer. 

He is snapped from that train of thought by the feeling of wetness on his fingers thought. There are tears running down Dew’s face as he stares up at Rain. 

Rain gasps quietly, “Dew—“

“Sorry. I’m sorry I don’t. I was gone for so long but it wasn’t long for me and Omega told me everything and you stayed here and and…” 

His breathing is shallow as he goes on and on. The beeping of the machines gets a little faster as his heart rate picks up. Rain can feel himself getting choked up again at the sight, but he swallows it down. He just shakes his head and wipes Dew’s tears away. 

“Dewdrop. Shut up,” he says affectionately. 

He sniffs and blinks at Rain, “What?” 

“None of that matters. You’re awake now. I would have waited for forever but it hasn’t been forever. So just. Just be with me.” 

Truth be told it did feel like forever. Rain is not lying though. He would have waited by Dew’s side until the earth turned to dust if that is what it took. But Dew has no reason to apologize. He will not hear it. He has been around Delta enough now to know just because he is awake that does not mean this is all over. Their time could still very well be limited, so Rain does not want to spend it trading I’m sorry’s back and forth. He does not want to spend it listening to Dew beg for forgiveness when there is no resentment. He wants to spend it like this. Holding him and kissing him and telling him how he looks like the sun shining on the waters of the lake. 

Before Dew has the chance to say or do anything, the door bursts open. Rain jumps up from the bed on instinct, like he was caught doing something he should not. He stays close though as he whips his head around to see who or what caused the commotion. He keeps a hand on Dew’s shoulder, still desperate to feel his warmth. His life. 

When he turns, he is face to face with Aether and Mountain. They are both still in their pajamas and panting. There is a little sheen of sweat around Aether’s hairline. Their eyes still look heavy and bloodshot, like going from a dark room to a light room without time to adjust. 

Rain is tense as they rush over to the bedside. Despite how much he wants to stay by his side, he shuffles away as Aether and Mountain get close enough to touch Dew. Everything in his body screams to shield Dew from them. Do not let them get close. Flash his fangs and bite and snarl to keep them away. They cannot be around his Dewdrop when he is still so injured. But he stops himself. 

Barely. 

He has to bite his tongue so that the growl he can feel bubbling up does not become audible. Logically he knows they have more of a right to be here than him. He has only known Dew a fraction of the time Aether and Mountain have. But that does not stop the feeling. It does not stop the want, need, to keep Dew all to himself. So he just stands off near the door, giving those two as much time as they want with Dew. He is not stupid enough to invade their space. 

Aether stands on the left side of the bed while Mountain takes the right. They both hunch and crouch so they can be closer to him. Aether takes Dew’s hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles. 

“Dewdrop. My Dewdrop.” His voice is higher pitched, cracking under the weight of unshed tears. 

Dew looks almost confused, “It’s the middle of the night isn't it?” 

“Like that would stop us from coming to you,” Mountain twines his fingers with Dew’s other hand, “Omega called as soon as you woke up.” 

Dew just shakes his head, like he wants to protest. To come up with any reason why they should not be here, why they did not have to come right away. But he does not. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no words ever leave. Aether and Mountain continue to just stare at him, giving him all the time he needs. 

Finally, Dew slowly looks over at Aether. He moves his hand that is still intertwined with Mountain’s over his chest, “I’m sorry.” 

Rain looks away when he sees the first tear fall from Aether’s eye. This feels. Intimate. Like he should not be here. He hears Aether’s soft, shaky voice and he tries not to listen. He is almost certain he is not meant to hear his words. He instinctively turns back though when Mountain’s voice rumbles out. 

“You’re alive. That’s all I care about now.” 

Oh he wishes he had not. The sight makes his chest ache. They each have noses tucked under one side of Dew’s jaw, careful to avoid the bandages covering his gills while still getting as close as possible. Their huge frames completely cover Dew. Rain can only see his head poking out. Aether chuffs softly, trying to soothe Dew who started to cry again. Despite the severity of the situation, the scene before him is warm. It is full of time together that Rain will never understand. Echoes of a thousand I love you’s Rain will never hear. No words have been spoken yet Rain can see an entire story. 

A story he does not have a place in. Not really. Maybe one day sure, but right now he is just the new ghoul who shoved his way in without a care to the previous relationships. This moment is not for him. He wraps his arms tightly around himself as he debates whether or not he should just leave. He does not want to, he knows this, but the itch in the back of his brain that he is wrong is too much to ignore. 

His eyes drift over the scene before him until he finally notices Aether staring at him. They lock eyes for a moment and Rain feels his stomach jump. He wonders if Aether is going to kick him out. Wonders if maybe he will confirm everything he is thinking. He is a quintessence ghoul after all, it is not out of the realm of possibility that he just heard all of Rain’s thoughts. Rain swallows thickly as he waits, not sure what else to do. Last time this happened he was knocked out cold. He can feel the tiniest spark of fear as he waits for his verdict. 

But then Aether smiles at him. It is weary, but it is genuine. He holds his hand and motions for him to come closer. Rain hesitates for a moment. He is not sure he deserves this. But then Mountain looks over at him with something soft in his eyes and it is all over. He darts over and joins probably the most unconventional pile he has ever experienced. 

Dew gives him a tired little smile when he feels Rain rest his hand on his thigh. He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, laying his back against his pillow once more. Aether must feel his confusion and panic because he pulls Rain just a little closer. 

“He’s just going to sleep. Don’t worry.” He says it for both their sakes. 

“He just spent three weeks asleep.” Rain shakes his head. 

Aether nods, “Not asleep. It’s a lot to explain, but I can guarantee you it wasn’t restful.” 

Silence hangs in the air for a moment before Rain speaks again. 

“Is he going to be okay?” 

“He will be.” Aether brushes a strand of hair out of Dew’s face. 

Rain smiles. Aether is right. Dew is going to be okay. More than. Because he has ghouls that would turn the earth to ash for him. Even if things are not okay and Dew ends up as damaged as Delta, he will be okay. Rain will not let Dew turn into ghost stories that get spread to all the new summons and Siblings. For as long as he is alive Rain will be by Dew’s side. His heart fell into Dew’s hands the moment he was pulled from the ground. He knows it will only stop beating when Dew’s does and by every ounce of power in his veins he will make sure that does not happen until the collapse of the universe. 

Because Dew deserves to be loved that long. 

~~~

Rain can barely breathe through the black fabric covering his mouth. He cannot tell what is louder, his pulse in his ears or the roar of the crowd waiting for them to come on stage. He is so sweaty already and they have not even done anything yet. His uniform clings to him and it just makes the feeling of unease that has settled in every part of him worse. 

He has tucked himself away in some dark corner backstage while everyone waits for the Cardinal. There is not much longer now. In a matter of minutes he is going to have to face thousands of humans and do what he was summoned for. Perform. Put on a good enough show that His message stays in their hearts. 

He feels like he is going to pass out. 

There is no way he can do this, why did he think he could do this? No amount of rehearsals could have possibly prepared him for this. His leg bounces so fast he is surprised the whole building is not shaking. He vaguely hears a techie call out another time check and his mind works a mile a minute. All he can think about is every little way in which he can fuck this up. 

He could trip and fall off the stage. He could miss his cue. He could flub every single note. His bass could just stop working. What if he moves too fast and his mask flies off? What if he does actually pass out? What if he loses control of his glamour? What if he—

“There you are. I was wondering where the fuck you ran off to.” Dew slides up beside him and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

He must be able to feel how tense he is because his blue glamoured eyes minutely soften behind his silver mask, “I brought water for you. Trust me you’re gonna need it, it gets hot as fuck out there.” 

Rain just silently shakes his head. He thinks if he puts anything in his body right now it will just come right back up. 

Dew hums and pulls Rain into an awkward side hug, “Nervous?” 

Rain nods. 

“Ah don’t be. You’ve got nothing to worry about. If those humans liked our music when it was me on bass then they’ll like anything.”

Dew chuckles but cuts himself when he realizes Rain is not laughing with him. He sighs, “I get it though. But trust me, you’ll be fine. You just gotta remember you’re not alone out there. If you fuck something up then I’d bet money someone else is also gonna fuck something up. We all fuck up together and then move on. It’s just a part of performing.” 

Rain looks at Dew while he speaks. He is not very eloquent, but the sentiment remains. He is not alone out there. Dew is gonna be out there with him. His whole pack is gonna be out there with him. He has been practicing for this for six months. He knows what he is doing. 

Dew must sense his change in demeanor because his eyes crinkle behind the mask. Rain is sure if he pulled the balaclava down all the way he would see a big, lopsided grin. 

“Thank you Dew.” 

“Ahhh don’t mention it,” he gives Rain a proper hug, squeezing him hard, “now come on there’s fruit in the green room and you need to eat so you don’t pass out and die.” 

Dew begins walking off, expecting Rain to follow. He waits a moment just to watch Dew leave. He smiles at the back of his head, rubbing a hand over his arm where Dew touched him. 

“I love you too Dewdrop,” he whispers. 

“Rainy come onnnnn! We don’t have forever!” Dew shouts over his shoulder when he realizes Rain has not followed him. 

Rain pushes off the equipment box he was using as a stool and rushes after him to catch up. He is glad Dew came looking for him. He probably would have stayed trapped in his own head if not for it. If not for Dew Rain would not be here. 

It has not been easy adjusting to a new life in a new world, but it means he gets to keep Dew by his side. As long as he has Dew’s hand to hold then he knows he will be okay. 

Always and forever. No matter what the future holds for him.

[sparkly-sediment]

Hiya. I saw you were taking suggestions. How about Soldier with a hippie s/o. He might have despised her in the begging but she was too chill and laid back to be intimidated by him and he fell for that? :)

Tf2 Soldier x hippie s/o who doesn’t give a fuck (loves him tho) headcanons

Obsessed with this idea??

Soldier yells a lot. Obviously

It’s not incessant but if you piss him off (which you will!) he will stand a give you the ass chewing of a lifetime.

Smokes your ass like a cigarette. Veins popping, spittle flying, his head is pounding can barely breathe from his yelling. And he says pretty fucked up shit too!

Told Scout his mama was so loose he flew out on accident (Scout cried himself to sleep)

When he enters a fit most mercs try to hide. They ignored him in the beginning, but papi will get your attention and it will be with a riding crop

The most defiance anyone shows during Soldier’s rage is when Spy cloaks and flees

This hippie chick though…

Soldier didn’t like her in the beginning!!! He is a man of order and strength, and this woman is chill, she laughs at him when he is not funny, and she doesn’t seem to gaf when he barks orders

“Oh okay” “thanks Soldier” “mhm yeah for sure” “… totally”

It drives him bananas. 🍌

She’s nice enough, and does a good job on the battlefield. She never gets too drunk or wild which is a bit weird to him (what else do you do?)

Once, everyone is in the kitchen area before work, and his goddamn mitts are too big to get his toast out of the toaster so she puts it on a plate and hands it to him

Soldier like that but didn’t like that he like that

She’s always doing these small sweet things???? He doesn’t understand why and overall he doesn’t *get* her.

The others are pretty easy to read, but it’s almost as if she isn’t acting for personal gain 🤯

Even if they are relaxing (drinking) after work or on a day off, she doesn’t puss out of conversations like Scout and Sniper and doesn’t get angry like Spy and Medic

She’s just… chill? Nice to him? Exasperated but endeared?

Cue some Saturday and Soldier is yelling again. A real holler fest, reverberation is shaking the walls

Most of the mercs have clear out but she’s just sitting on the couch reading and paying literally no mind, which upsets him more

Soldier locks in on his target. Marches over to the back of the couch, looks down at her reading like A FOOL! And starts his engines

“DO YOU EVER CARE ABOUT THIS TEAM?? ABOUT THIS-“

She interrupts his spewing to stand and make eye contact this bitch is crazy!!

Hippie chick smiles, sighs, and tells him to stop yelling please, it’s not that big of a deal, and we are all teammates so please don’t make me want to hurt you ❤️

Soldier is stunned into momentary silence and before he can counter with a well places RAHH she leans in a kisses his cheek! The fuck!

He short circuits and she walks away victorious. Long story short, our little patriot realizes he has some feelings to sort through

I feel like Soldier would be very clearly head over heels and think he is hiding it so well and nobody ever knows ever but she knows and the others are to scared or in disbelief to say anything

She wears an American flag bandanna and he jizzes in his pants 😩😭🇺🇸

[pocket-vvardvark]

WIP wednesday

Ty for the tag @skyrim-forever @theoneandonlysemla @sulphuricgrin @thequeenofthewinter !!! <3

I'd like to tag: @scholarlyhermit @fangsandsoftgrass @aviel-the-trans-bucket @progmetol @sanza-17 @madamefluffnstuff @lathepoquerose @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @yansurnummu no pressure! <33

Okay, the Angelica and Verandis thing was not supposed to progress into...whatever this is, but ya hot ancient vampire man has me dead lol

Under the cut bc it's long asf so sorry lol 😭

It was a surprisingly slow day at Castle Ravenwatch. With everyone working on their respective reports, Verandis sat in his office contemplating Gwendis’ recent findings. Maybe it was time to take a break as his thoughts began to drift towards the recent hero of Rivenspire and the woman he met last night. Different as they might be, it was perplexing that the more he pondered, the more he found similarities between his newly trusted associate and Angelica. Perhaps it was their striking red hair, or the alabaster hue of their skin, both of which they seemed to possess. Frowning, Verandis searches his brain further for similarities beyond mere flesh, but he doesn't know enough about the blasted scamp to explore that possibility. 

Sighing, the count moves away from the piles of papers on his desk. He walks towards the halls, stepping down the corridor until he reaches the stairs. The scent of another catches his attention. From behind the great doors of castle Ravenwatch is the thundering pulse of someone’s heartbeat. A few people come to mind, but only one stands out to him—Angelica. Gods, it would be far too soon to put up with her antics. There she is, standing outside with the grin of a banekin. Clutching the door with barely concealed aggravation, he takes her appearance in. Wearing nothing but a low-cut dress and a wide-brimmed hat, she’s patting blush upon her cheeks. 

“Darling.” A row of straight, pearly whites are flashed as she slips the compact down her bra.

A sharp breath leaves his nostrils in an attempt to remain polite, fingers digging into the doorframe.

“Ah, Angelica. What can I do for you?” Hopefully, she would take the flatness in his voice as a hint to scurry off.

Preening, she parts her hair to the side before giving him her full attention. 

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s nothing…nefarious.” Her reference to their prior conversation greatly vexes him. Unfortunately, his annoyance increases the pleasure in her expression fivefold. 

“Of course, just as you implied the other day. I’ll believe you.” 

She proudly states the words left unsaid, “Until I give you a reason not to? How pragmatic, count.” Winking, she allows herself in at his behest. Promptly shutting the door, Verandis watches with tired eyes as Angelica prances forth.

His lips press into a firm line just as the rowdiest of his wards bounds down the stairs, haphazardly skipping steps. The red-headed bosmer’s steps change at the sight of Angelica. Stalking forward, her hands grip the belt which holds a pair of twin axes. 

Clearing his throat, Verandis prepares to introduce the eccentric woman by his side to end whatever dispute his ward would no-doubt initiate. 

“Verandis, who’s this? She smells like…decay.” 

Odd as it was, Gwendis was correct. Whether it was from dealings with the undead or alchemical ingredients, he couldn’t be sure why Angelica’s scent lingered with grave dust and stale dirt pitifully masked with expensive perfume.

Angelica taps his ward’s wrinkled nose much to the shorter vampire’s chagrin, “Caught that, did you? This little darling sure has a nose on her, hm?” Feigning thought, she stamps a heel against the marbled floor, “As much as I adore practicing the necromantic arts, I do so loathe the fragrance of death it brings along with it.”

Gwendis’ brows shoot up to her hairline, preparing to stagger forward and cut Angelica into ribbons. Verandis promptly waves a hand, stopping her would-be assault.

“Gwendis, please.” He exasperates, brows pinched painfully, “She is a…guest.” Uninvited guest, really.

Squinting, Gwendis gives Angelica one more once-over before finally lowering her hackles. 

“Fine, but I’ll be watching you…”

Sensing Gwendis’ grasp of her name, she provides it with a ridiculously theatrical bow. 

“Angelica Wintersong.” Dramatically flaunting her arms in fanfare, she raises her head, “Necromancer, translator, and the occasional alchemist, at your disposal.”

Verandis and Gwendis share a look—confusion mixed with disbelief. 

Tilting her head, Gwendis studies Angelica with a suspicious squint, a thumb and fore-finger pinching her ivory-colored chin. 

"Wintersong? No way, you’re—”

Letting out an undignified snort before Gwendis can speak further, Angelica wipes an imaginary tear from her already oozing smoky-eye. “Alethia’s sister? You didn’t truly think my appearance was a mere coincidence, did you?”

The air is much lighter now that her connection with their trusted ally is known. Alethia is a proud associate of House Ravenwatch, so he hoped they would get used to her sister’s presence as well. 

Pushing her long hair off her shoulder, Angelica rests her hands upon her hips. With a twinkle in her eye that spells trouble, she and the count exchange a glance. 

“I’ve decided I'll be staying here, Count.”

The divines must be testing him. “Pardon?” He fumbles slightly, already feeling a headache coming on. 

She shrugs, adjusting her hat, “House troubles.”

“If I recall correctly, that house is new. It appeared to be fine, but I suppose this is the part where you tell me about the, ah, house troubles you so delicately put?”

Curling a red strand around her pointer finger, Angelica sighs wistfully, lips pulled into a pout, “Is it such a crime that I wish to be near the father of my child?”

A chill fills the depths of his stomach; had he remembered incorrectly? Did something happen that night she pulled him in like a moth drawn to a flame? If he weren't so controlled, surely his cheeks would have been aflame with embarrassment. Ignoring Gwendis' strangled noise of shock, he heaves a sigh and massages the bridge of his nose.

“You—you slept with her?” Too late, Gwendis is already shaking the fabric of his robes in disbelief while pointing at the melodramatically posed woman before him. 

Firmly, but gently tugging her hands off his robes, Verandis gives his ward an exhausted smile. 

“Gwendis, child, leave us for a moment.” The bosmer’s sulk stabs at his heart, but it's for the best that she does not see any more than she has.

“But, why? You're always hiding things from us, Verandis. That's how...how we almost lost you.” 

She was right, of course. The only reason he'd been saved from the clutches of Coldharbour was his ward’s genius paired with Alethia’s assistance. 

Finally, Angelica allows her little ploy to be foiled. Groaning, she waves a playful hand, “Oh, I was only teasing. You didn't touch me, count. Although…” she appears thoughtful, before seizing him with a smile that rivaled the most unrestrained he's ever witnessed.

“I wished you had.” 

Twice now, the air has been cleared, relaxing both the count’s and Gwendis’ stiff posture.

“Must you be this difficult?” Verandis angles the ashen-colored woman with a disapproving frown, brows low in an attempt to stifle her mischievousness. 

Rolling her eyes, she sticks her tongue out childishly, flashing a simple gold piercing that catches the light. 

“Only for you, honey.” Winking, her heels are muffled beneath the carpet as she makes way for the decadent stairwell. 

“You need me by your side, Count. A translator, alchemist, and necromancer?” Checking her nails briefly, she glances upwards, commanding his attention with a strange look. “I'd say you're getting quite the bargain.” 

Mulling over his options, Verandis thinks carefully on Angelica’s offer. Beneath her peculiar persona, he could sense there was a demand in her words—a threat hidden behind a compromise. 

“I'm not entirely convinced of your motives, nor do I wish to involve Alethia in the events that you do become a problem.” It's a diplomatic move to bring her sister into this as an opposing threat to thwart any damage done by Angelica. He does so in hopes she will be tame, if only to save her sister’s good name. 

“But, I do admit we are severely lacking in translators and alchemists. If you wish to stay here, I need to know you'll behave accordingly.”

Her gaze from the stairway softens into something familiar. Alethia often made the same expression after healing an injured ally or double-checking on his or his ward’s faculties.

Leaning forward, she rests her cheek on her palm with a faraway look.

“Count.” Their eyes meet, and he is enraptured by her stare. No longer the calamitous silver that beckons a storm, they are softer with a touch of warmth from the midday sun.

Exploring his own carmine orbs, her smile lessens into something genuine.

“I am trouble, but not without purpose. You'll have to put your trust in me until I can return the favor, but…I can promise you one thing.” Her lashes flutter, tilting her head at the perfect angle to capture his heart. 

“I'll protect each and every one of you until my very last breath.” With that odd promise, she takes off bounding upstairs to claim whatever free bed she can. 

Sharing a look with his ward one last time, Verandis’ exasperation tinges with a subtle amount of fondness for this strange woman’s antics. As pesky as she can be, perhaps this alliance would prove beneficial. 

[redr0sewrites]

Riding Aaravos' Thigh

i wrote ab this in his general hcs but i am now writing an actual thingy for it cuz its such a hot concept- anyways onto the fic!

🥀CW: SMUT!! thigh riding, dirty talk, filthiness, aaravos in general

🥀 minors dni

"my my, were you really so desperate that you couldnt wait until i was finished?" aaravos smirked down on your squirming form as you looked up at him through your lashes, seated upon his thigh. he had been teasing you for the past few days, yet whenever you would initiate anything he would pull away smirking and walk away, leaving you more hot and bothered then you were before. he had always been a tease, but you were tired of this little cat and mouse game! so, while aaravos was busy working at his desk, you had decided to walk right up to him and sit on one of his thighs. the act seemed innocent enough, until you began desperately grinding yourself against him, your soft mewls and pants filling the room. however, aaravos refuses to give you any sort of attention, leading to the desperate predicament you were in currently.

aaravos looked at you, a wide smirk on his face. he would never expect something so bold from you, yet you were always full of surprises. you really were too adorable, practically keening at any attention he gave you.

"go on then. give me a show, little star." aaravos leaned back, his amusement evident.

"if you do well, i may even let you cum"

with those words ringing in your ears, you steadied yourself by resting your hands on his chest. swallowing hard, you became to move yourself roughly up and down his thigh. you had already begun to soak his pants with your slick, and as your movement began to become more and more desperate, the stain of your juices began to grow larger and larger.

"how dirty. what a filthy little mortal, getting off on my thigh like a bitch in heat. so desperate just for me, for my cock, for my touch? cant even go a few days without your silly little hole being fucked?"

his words only made you more aroused, and your movements were becoming more desperate and needy. your hips were humping his thigh more and more swiftly as you felt your release building deep in your stomach.

"please... please aaravos, please lemme cum! please its been so long," your pleas only made aaravos smirk wider, and he moved his hands to your hips to assist you in grinding against him.

"go on then" he gave a wicked grin, and began to bounce his knee roughly. You mewled and keened, hips stuttering as your release swept over you suddenly and you collapsed against his chest. gasping for breath, you barely registered aaravos lifting you up. suddenly, he turned you around pressing your face against his desk. you could feel his hard cock pressing up against your ass, and another swell of arousal made you flush a deep pink.

"oh, foolish human. did you really think that i was done with you already?"

RAHH THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING REAL SMUT HOW'D I DO??? URGEHRHE HES SO FINEE AUSJEJ REQS R OPEN<3 HOPE U ENJOYED!

[lathepoquerose]

@sulphuricgrin and @kiir-do-faal-rahhe thank you for tagging me in wip Wednesday! :3 since I'm already uploading a finished chapter of Epistle and Elegy tonight, I thought I'd post the opening of a chapter from my WIP fic "The Five Descents of Naome," which I'm planning to post as a completed work. Obviously no edits on this bad boy.

I TAG @pocket-vvardvark @hadvarandralof

Some light gore in this but I don't think it's anything too bad <3

I. THE BAD PLACE

Dovey-Rose awakens to the sensation of late summer prairie grass brushing against her skin and the distinctive scent of Sleeping Tree lilac tickling her nose. She lifts her sleep-hazy gaze to her baby girl's squishy cheeks and happily scrunched blue eyes, her chubby fingers gripped tightly around a soft purple blossom looming in her mother’s sight. The unclouded blue of Whiterun summer sets the little girl in a mid-afternoon halo. She lifts a hand to caress her baby-soft cheek. Having a daughter, she thinks, must be the closest thing to Aetherius a mortal can comprehend. 

Hi Momma. Amia signs, accompanied by a wave of the lilac sprig. Grandpa Isran Flower! Dove pushes herself up on her elbows, pulls her daughter into her arms, and presses a kiss to her forehead, adjusting the loose springs of curls slipping from her braids with the delicate touch of the prairie winds.

“Yes, that’s his favorite flower. He’d be right pleased to have it,” She speaks in accompaniment with each sign. But I might take it first!

Amia wiggles excitedly, hiding her dimpled smile behind the blossom before darting off in a very determined toddle, laughing as her bare feet stamp the prairie’s earthy soil. Dove’s loved her daughter long enough to know this is her silent challenge; you’ll have to catch me first! 

She gives her a momentary headstart before giving chase, the dry grasses grazing her hips, monoliths of bluestem casting golden shadows on her skin. Amia can’t seem to stop giggling as they traipse through the plains, pausing on occasion to pocket a smooth stone, a withering mass of sea oats, a lone bog violet. The growing collection touches Dove’s heart; these are the favorite things of Sorine, Agmaer, and Serana. What could bless a mother more than to see her child seek small kindnesses?

Each wobble-footed stamp tosses her daughter’s curls about her cheeks, her tiny stuffed mudcrab backpacked across her shoulders getting a face full of hair with every bounce. When her sweet girl looks back to see her mother chasing her, she squeals in delight, her nose scrunching up with her smile. 

That nose, that smile, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners. As Isran told it, Amia was born smiling. Happy to meet her mother, who had loved her so much already, he’d said. That baby girl could crack the coldest heart open. 

Sorine had pertinently informed him that she already had, and gestured towards the vampire hunter, drawing a rare chuckle. I thought Isran forgot how to laugh. Sorine had said softly in the library that evening between sips of spiced wine. It’s good. Mia is good for him. For all of us.

The light prairie colors begin to fade into the tall wild rye, and Dove quickens her playful pace as Amia runs headlong into the sunny labyrinth. Even with the wind kissing her cheeks, the grueling heat of deep Last Seed wears the excitement of the chase thin. Running has never been her strongest combat capability; no one could blame her. Try outrunnin’ a pissed off sabre cat after havin’ a kid. She’d drunkenly joked to Serana once. You’ll sure be pissed, just not off. 

“Mia baby, you sure can wear a girl out,” She huffs as she reaches down to scoop Amia’s shadow out of the brush and into her waiting arms. Instead, confusion seizes her as her foot catches on a prairie burrow, her embrace only serving to cushion her fall as her ribs hit the dusty soil. It knocks the wind out of her. She stays there for a moment, catching her breath, rolling her ankle to ensure it isn’t twisted. Good luck -- only a few scrapes to the elbows to show for the matter. She stands and brushes the dust off her day dress, sighing as she notices yet another tear in the seams. Another patch. Serana will be displeased. 

What follows this rather mundane line of thinking is the groan of anxiety settling in her stomach. Around her, mid-day winds rustle the rye. In the far distance, an elk lays hoof upon dried switchgrass. Farther still, a wolf howls. But there is no gurgling laugh, no tiny feet padding about the soil, no crush of flora in search of a pathway. No, in the matter of seconds she had been down, she had lost all auditory indications of her daughter’s whereabouts. And how? Only just a moment past, she was nearly beneath her. A toddler cannot run fast or far. There is only so much agility their tiny forms afford them. 

She takes a quenching breath. Her daughter is here. Somewhere. Distracted by a rabbit, perhaps, or kneeling in the dirt, constructing an effigy out of prairie clay. A mud crab, probably, or an unflattering portrait of her mother. This sets her whirling mind at ease, and she sets off North through the rye, stepping gingerly to avoid any further falls, ignoring the uncomfortable caress of the wraith grass at her hips. 

Motherly instincts tell her to call out for her daughter; these she ignores. Amia was born profoundly deaf; she could hear little but the shadows of a word or phrase with a mouth and a hand cupped to her ear. Across the wide prairie, and with the increasing cry of the wind, it’s doubtful anything would reach her. Dove settles for Laas-Yah-Nir, tossing her voice into the grass expanses to capture her daughter’s aura. A few butterflies. A prairie dog. To her left, a slow-shambling deer. Her throat grows tight. Aura Whisper reveals anything within an acreage. How could she have gone so far so quickly? 

Too soon the grasses give way to pine-littered cliffs, and anxiety again seizes territory in her belly. Amia simply couldn’t have gone this far -- the stones were too wetted with moss, the thick clay paths too muddy for a barefoot toddler to make adequate footing. Her mind fills with images of her daughter sliding off the mountain, crumpled in a heap in the stony tundras below. No. She pushes this away and takes a moment to orient herself, mustering another bout of Aura Whisper. Her heart jumps in relief. Far away the hazy red outline of a little girl appears, though how she managed to get so far Dove can’t comprehend. The woods before her is dense and sticky with coniferous trees, with hardly any room for movement between the tightly packed trees. Still, she unsheaths her dagger and begins to cut into the pine. 

It’s soon after that Aura Whisper flickers away, and she loses sight of her daughter again. She groans in frustration as she cuts into a small clearing, hands, and arms impaled with pine needles and sticky with sap. She whirls around, attempting to acclimate herself. The clearing is shrouded, nearly completely dark. Was it not then just noon? As she slices another thick swath of needles away, a thickening fog settles amongst the trees. Were she not to know any better, she would assume it were late evening, minutes after sundown, the last cries of orange torn from the sky. A sense of urgency beats at her back. 

“Laas-Yah-Nir,” She whispers, but the forest comes back dead. For an acre on each side of her, nothing is alive. The urgency turns to panic, nausea overwhelming her, making her dizzy.  

“Amia? Baby?” Dovey cries. She wants to scream in frustration at the hopelessness of the act. She settles for a Fus-Ro-Dah and shouts with all her might -- hoping the sheer volume will reach her little ears. Her efforts are only met with the collapse of the tree before her, creaking as it falls with a boom to the forest floor. It almost seems mocking. If a tree falls in the woods, no one hears it. 

When the great thrush of displaced leaves settles down, she is met with the sight of an elk gnawing, unbothered by her destruction, on a pinecone.

What possesses her to approach the antlered creature is unclear, but so she does, slowly, a trembling hand outstretched. The presence of the elk provides a momentary ease from her anxiousness. So this forest had not stilled after all. As if to solidify its image before her, she reaches out across the still-shivering tree leaves to stroke the fluffy fur about its neck. 

It does not scatter at her touch as expected but lifts its head above the branches. The elk’s eyes are of an inkiness she’d never encountered in a living creature. The thought strikes her then, enraptured in its strangeness, that Aura Whisper had not revealed this Elk to her. The realization makes her quickly uncomfortable, her knuckles going white on the dagger. It tilts its head, and in a graveled tone, as if spoken between episodic choking:

“This is the bad place.” 

Dovey has stared into the eyes of the World-Eater. She has met the slick cast eye of Daedra with steel. She has borne the vile gaze of many men upon her form, and yet, as the Elk stands with great effort upon its hindlegs, its intention trained upon her, she has never quite so badly wanted to be unseen. Its shadow looms over her, and its jaw moves slack, as if a hand were puppeteering its speech.  

“This is the bad place.”

“Where is my daughter?” She shouts in response, brandishing the dagger outwards to distract from the shake of her knees. The elk takes a hobbling step forward, and as it steps out from behind the tree, Dove feels her lunch rise in her throat. Where soft brown fur had been only a moment before was now a splay of organs, ribs sawed open, lungs inflating and deflating upon the creature’s skinned chest. The belly has been gored, the furls of intestine still unraveling and sitting awkward and bulky below its lacerated liver, as if they had been removed and restuffed in haste. With each step forward its hoofs squish the grisly rope, the tension serving to unravel more of itself.  

There’s no pause. She runs, trying to block out the sounds of hooves moving ever faster behind her, the sound of guts squelching and splattering to the ground. Her hands go to her ears, pine needles cutting her skin bloody as she desperately searches for any indication of a path out. 

“Dove,” 

It knows her name. It knows her name. She hears its whispers as if it were right behind her, hot breath against her ear. 

“You can’t keep her safe forever.”

The phrase sends her tumbling to her knees, skinning them bloodied in the stony dirt. Hoof steps slow and stop behind her as she bends down in a sob, pressing her elbows tightly against her ears. The creature makes a deathly noise behind her, the sound of someone gargling stones. 

“How very Dove Katherine. Always pushing forward,” it whispers. She feels the cold keratin of hooves on her spine, the wet of its gore dripping on her neck. “If you’d only take a moment to look back.”

She hears the body of the elk collapse behind her, a stinking sick mess of decimated organs splattering against her back. Dread unlike anything she’s ever felt clasps itself around her heart. She bends down in reverence, trembling hands palming the ground, and prays to Akatosh. When she feels the gore begin to seep through her dress, she swallows her fear and turns. 

Amia swings slowly back and forth from a tree branch behind her, one tiny eye hanging from the socket, tongue lolled out, little hands cold and limp at her sides. A thick noose cut from the elk’s intestines adorns her neck. Dove can’t find the words to speak, only deep, guttural screams leaving her throat as she sobs. The forest trembles with the power, trees around her felling as she weeps.

Through spotty vision she scrambles to pull her daughter’s body from the noose, breaking the gore in two as she collapses on top of her baby, touching her cool skin delicately. With tears dripping onto her daughter’s freckled cheeks she gently pushes her eye back into the socket, closes her mouth, readjusts her hair. 

“Baby, my baby…” She sobs, her voice going hoarse as she grasps at Amia’s small, freezing body, embracing it as if enough love might bring it back to life. 

It was only in recent years that Amia had gotten big enough to give and return hugs, and ever since then, she couldn’t be stopped. Agmaer once had to hobble around the fort with a little hitchhiker hugging his leg; he didn’t have the heart to peel her off. 

Mommy She had signed one day, wiggling her fingers, her thumb against her chin. When hug you, you can’t see love you.

Dove had laughed and kissed her nose. I know you love me. I love you. That what hugs for. 

Amia had shook her head decidedly, crossing her arms. It was an attitude habit she’d picked up from Isran, one that always made Serana grin. She’d sighed and pulled the little girl into her lap, hugging her tightly, and tapped five fingers one-by-one on her back, each tap earning a giggle. 

Like that, she’d signed as she pulled away. Five taps means love you.

As she holds Amia’s corpse in her arms, five small fingers tap slowly down her back. 

She’s paralyzed. Amia stares back at her, eyes dead, lips blue, but moving. Slowly, she lifts her mother’s hand and closes it around something. Dove draws her eyes away for only a moment as she stares at her daughter’s last gift. 

In her palm lay the still-twitching remnants of a spider. 

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

No way, am I actually posting a WIP?!

My dears, so much is happening, and as always, when I am entirely too busy for anything, inspiration hits. I still have very complicated feelings about my writing, but progress is progress and I've been tagged by @illumiera for a wip wednesday.

I am very conflicted about ch. 17 of WYGTYA because it's just so sad, angsty, and the subject is something that I relate to very much, and I feel my readers might do the same, so I really want to do it justice. For now, I'll post a scene form ch. 3 of HOTHS. I'm cooking up something about the Akaviri swordsman because he is joining the crew now! I'm gonna tag @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @dirty-bosmer @bostoniangirl21 @pitiable-arisen only if you want to, of course!

~

“It is a one time thing. You have to trust me on this one.” The Altmer shouts.

“Trust, huh? To think that I still have some to spare…” Signe sighs. She gives Rhaim a firm, but apologetic look and turns towards the Akaviri brothers. “Lead them all to the big ship.” She says, and now raises her voice a little louder. “Whoever is able to fight and wants to bring these motherfuckers to their doom is more than welcome. We need to hold them off until the big ship leaves dock, and fight our way through the frigate.” 

“I’ll fight with you.” Renjiro says with a determined look under his furrowed brows.

“What?!” Both Signe and his brother speak at the same time.

“You need me. They all do. I want to do this.” Those determined eyes now turn to pleading.

“I don’t -”

“There’s more to me than meets the eye. Trust me.”

Signe sighs, rolling the word trust in her mind until she’s seen all its faces and meanings.

“I don’t want to put a kid in danger.”

“I’m not a kid. I’m nineteen!”

“Your name ends with ‘teen’!”

Renjiro grunts, then takes a step closer to Signe. “I’m the greatest Akaviri swordsman. With these swords, I killed a God. I think I’ll manage some pointy-eared assholes in fancy robes.”

Signe doesn’t know quite what to say to that, but the intrigue makes its presence known. He barely whispered it like it’s a secret that he’s laying right at her feet. She looks into his deep obsidian eyes and yeah, there’s a young, ambitious kid staring back, but there’s also something more.

“Alright. Say goodbye to your brother. We might not go back home for a while after this, if we survive.” 

The young man gives her the most brilliant grin and turns to his brother, saying something to him in a language that Signe does not understand. His brother swiftly brings their foreheads together and says something back, looking more proud than concerned. ‘Good,’ Signe thinks, and then, with no warning, the young Akaviri unsheathes his swords and sprints to the approaching Thalmor. So many that they were forming a sea of soldiers, the sand barely visible under their robes.

“I like the kid. Think he’ll fit in just fine.” Rhaim winks at Signe before transforming into a werewolf and charging towards the Thalmor.

~

Initially, he was supposed to appear only in a couple of chapters, but I love him so much that I had to add him to the crew! Still not sure if I will go with the 'I killed a god' storyline, but I like it so far, so probably it will stay!

[deprivedreality]

𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗗 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣 ; 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗬𝗘𝗦 chp two

Jake knew best not to run towards where his family were, that was his best way of protecting them from a potential threat. He could feel himself clinging onto dear life, hoping that one vengeful little na'vi girl wouldn't murder him just as easily as he thought.

He's had enough experience and he wasn't the least bit enlightened at what trouble he had dragged himself into.

"Please, I mean no harm!" Jake yelled, he was finally getting tired of playing tag. Nevertheless, it is likely for him to even have a choice to put up a fight with whoever he was facing unless he actually needed to. "I've come only for uturu! I am not your enemy so please— Argh!" The moment he looked back, he saw the blade the girl was holding just an inch from his neck.

"What the fuck are you?!" The man yelled in panic, he could feel his whole body trembling. Obviously, the girl was a trained hunter. A warrior, at the very least, with such skills in drawing a blade. Jake could feel his heart beat fast, he never felt this panicked before and juat how unlucky he is now to be encountering a murder child.

"Close your filthy mouth! I refuse to believe that you are na'vi, you do not belong here and I will kill you and your group of impostors if it means to protect my clan!" And then she hit him again with a mighty blow capable of tripping her enemy.

Na'vieh yelled, it has been a very long time since she's had the opportunity to feel the emotions of a warrior and she was more than ruthless now than she remembered. She was just blinded by the thought of driving away the enemy.

Jake didn't understand her warning very clearly and kept himself in her naked eye the moment he pulled himself back up, causing her to hiss at his boldness and plunge an attack before he even had the chance to speak again.

Skillfully, Na'vieh started to strike him repeatedly and even resumely was able to bring him down to the ground where she could have a good look of his old blue face. She scoffed upon this and got even more angrier as he plainly let himself get pounced and strangled. He wasn't fighting back.

"Rahh! Fight back, you son a—!"

The next thing Jake knew was he was fighting a girl two times younger and smaller than him. He could feel her fury as she sees his appearance, especially his alien hand which made her scream bloody murder. The sight of it just felt too wrong.

Continuous attacks were plunged at him, he barely even dodged her skillful way of handling a two headed spear. He was mesmerized but at the same time was scared of the other things she might do.

She had the drive to kill and it showed in her empty murder eyes while she fought him, and she was basically begging him to use the gun he had been refused to use now that it had given away his relation with humans.

But Jake didn't give in and eventually threw off the gun which made Na'vieh back away, raising a brow as she wonders if he truly was enemy or that he was just onto something.

"Rahh!" She hissed, bearing her sharp canine.

She had her spear pointed at his chest, ready to cut through his flesh but the moment their eyes met, Na'vieh questioned her decisions and was torn into shreds as she sees the wounds she had inflicted on this man.

"Mawey... I mean... No harm..." The man had his arms in the air, breathing heavily and was in the verge if fainting from being roughly manhandled. Plus he had narrowly missed a strike, but his stomach bled from a cut that wasn't deep but was enough to worsen his state.

"I am na'vi, trust me." He whispers, keeping his posture and looking straight at Na'vieh's eyes. She narrowed her eyes at him, circling him like a predator. This act made her lower her weapon and tilt her head, before she asked. "What are you called?"

"The name's Jake Sully." Na'vieh's heart dropped and silence came between them, Jake was still low on guard and eventually sat down the earthy soil, heavily breathing as he wiped his bleeding nose. But the girl wasn't fazed, she kept her eyes on him, smelling his scent from afar and looking at his every feature.

"You are? Tseyk Soli? Toruk Macto?" Na'vieh asked gently, shocking the older guy. Her accent was different from his, but he understood just how relative she is.

"Yes, yes! And I am not enemy." As Jake nodded his head at her in agreement, she had a sad look on her face. The sound of the vast night wind was what occupied her mind, she fell in a trance and thought about what she had just done. Na'vieh lowered her defense and looked at the ground with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips.

This is a mistake, why would Toruk Macto seek ukturu? This is... Nonsense. Na'vieh had a lot to process in her mind. She looked defiantly and narrowed her eyes, waiting for a subtle movement that show signs that this was nothing but a mere lie. But the call never did came and she was left with him.

"How long have you been here, Tseyk Suli? Why did you leave your clan? You are forest person, you do not come to the ocean." She asked, but surprisingly, he took this as a sign that she had forgotten the motive she had in mind.

"My family and I left for a reason."

As Jake explained right away to avoid any more problems, Na'vieh just looked at him with an unhappy face. She didn't even listen properly but he could sense his desperation, if it weren't for her head fogged up with the guilt of attacking an innocent person.

The moment Na'vieh was about to crouch down to pick up her spear, she felt her ear twitch as she felt a sudden movement. She thought at first that it was merely some Autrapede (pandoran animal), but it wasn't.

Until Na'vieh met the eyes of another, someone with deep amber eyes. She hissed and made Jake face her back, as though she was defending him.

Both Jake and her were alerted by a sudden presence and both was quick to do something. But unlike Jake who had a protective defense, Na'vieh was in for the kill as she sees another similar to the man he just fought, pointing an arrow at her. "Enemy!"

She didn't need anyone to tell her that this was Toruk Macto's son.

"Neteyam, do not shoot! Neteyam— NO!" Jake wasn't quick enough to stop the boy and Na'vieh was forced to see herself get impaled by an arrow, cutting the flesh of the lower left of her abdomen. The feeling of being thrown back slightly because of the strong impact made her numb, she thought she deserved it.

Na'vieh didn't show signs of struggle and took a deep breath before she looked back at the eyes of the boy, Neteyam. She looked at him to taunt him, and it worked. The boy stood frozen, eyes wide opens as he watched his dad rush over towards her.

She fell to the ground and laid flat on her back, Jake putting pressure on her wound as he tells her to calm down. But she was already calm, and displayed no sign of discomfort. She heaved, as if controlling the flow of her breathes.

"Ma Eywa." Na'vieh mumbled, breathing heavily and seemed like she didn't even bother looking up herself and her state.

"Sir...?" Neteyam called out to his father, dropping his bow to the ground while recalling what he just did. Shaking, he was afraid to get an answer from him, but he was eager to know. "Did— Did I kill her?"

Na'vieh heard what the guilt strikken boy said and grimaced. As Jake decided to pick her up, she had the chance to once again meet those amber eyes. She hissed at him, but very hoarsely.

"Of course not," Na'vieh answered his question, her eyes closing slowly as she reached out her hand. Neteyam could see her lack of ignominy, awestrucked. She placed a finger on his forehead and harshly pushed his head.

"You're gonna have to put more than that to kill me."

Unintended Worship, click here to teleport to the next chapter :P

ᓚᘏᗢ @deprivedreality 2023 | do not copy my works!

[arc-misadventures]

More Jaune arc the traitor what does Adam think of the relationship between Sienna and Jaune

On Your Left

Adam: Oww…

Jaune: Ahem…! O…?!

Adam: Don’t! Don’t say it… please don’t say it…

Jaune: …

Jaune: On your left~!

Adam: Rahhh?!!

Jaune: Oh, this will never get old~!

Adam: It is! It’s very old! Will you ever stop?!

Jaune: As soon as you remember one very, very important lesson, you know what that is; Hmm? Hmmm?!

Adam: Haaa… Watch my blindside…?

Jaune: Yes! Watch your literal blindside! And, before you ask, I will continue to exploit it until you learn to watch it!

Adam: Rahh! I don’t have this problem at, Beacon! Why is it only with you?

Jaune: 1: I trained you; I taught you the majority of the things you know. So therefore, I have an unfair advantage against you. 2: I am well, well know for being a highly skilled strategist; you know this. So this means…?

Adam: Because you’ve know me for years, and because of that, you how I think too…?

Jaune: Correct. I’ve know you long enough, I know how you think and how to exploit it. And, how do I do that?

Adam: …

Jaune: …

Adam: You kept attacking me hard to my right flank, and only my right flank… Forcing me to focus all of my attention on the right… Wearing me down bit by bit with each attack… Then, you fainted an attack from the right, and quickly hit me hard on the left?

Jaune: Excellent! That’s precisely what I did! You’re fatal flaw is that you can become rather, pardon the expression, bullheaded. Forgetting about everything else, hyper focusing on what’s ahead of you. I just need to rile you up and then hit your blindside.

Adam: ‘Pardon the expression…?’

Jaune: No.

Adam: Grahh?!!

Jaune: Oh, get up ya big baby. We’re done training for today. I don’t want to rough you up too much, now do we? You’re going back to Beacon in a few days as is. Can’t send you back with your leg in a cast.

Adam: You wouldn’t do that! R-Right…?

Jaune: Intentionally. After all…

Adam: You never know what’s going to happen in the next five minutes.

Jaune: Oi! That’s my line!

Adam: Hehe!

Jaune: Cheeky bugger… So, are you ready to go back?

Adam: More or less. I just need to do some packing, and I’ll be ready to go back.

Jaune: No, what I meant was: Are you ready to go back, with Blake?

Adam: Oh… With, Blake… uhh… yeah…

Jaune: You’re not ready.

Adam: Absolutely not…

Jaune: Okay… Want my advice?

Adam: Please! You’re dating, Sienna Khan! If anyone knows how to deal with a fierce cat lady, its you!

Jaune: Okay, first off, Blake is nothing like, Sienna. If you upset, Blake she would give the cold shoulder for a few days, and after a while. And, after you apologize she’ll come back to you. If you upset, Sienna, she would rip off your horns with her bare hands and gut you with them.

Adam: …

Adam: Has she actually…?

Jaune: …

Adam: Best not to ask…

Jaune: Smart lad. That being said; she has permission from, Kali to do just that, and more to you if you upset her baby in anyway.

Adam: N-Noted…

Jaune: Good.

Adam: Jaune, can I ask a you a question?

Jaune: Shoot.

Adam: The relationship between me, and Blake… do you think I could make it something like you, and Sienna have?

Jaune: Oh~! Has my little brother finally reached the cusps of adult hood and has learned of the beauty od woman and finally fallen in love?! This is a momentous occasion! Stand still, I need to send a photo to, Kali!

Adam: No! No photos! Stop! Stop that!

Jaune: Hehe… You’re too easy to tease.

Adam: Am not!

Jaune: Only when, Blake is involved. You’ve always been a blushing mess around her.

Adam: What, am not!

Jaune: You keep believing that bud…

Adam: Nahhh! Forget that; do you think we have a chance or not?

Jaune: Yes. But, it all depends on you.

Adam: What do you mean?

Jaune: Adam, I honestly never thought I would ever be romantically involved with an… anyone, after what I did. Then, Sienna came along and made sure that didn’t happen. My life has become much, much better ever since that day. My biggest regret would be if I ever lost it… Haa… I think you two have a chance of becoming something more. So long as you are able to keep, and maintain it that is.

Adam: Do you think I can?

Jaune: Don’t think you can; prove that you can! You understand?

Adam: Y-Yeah, I understand.

Jaune: Good, very good. Keep that up, and you just might get what you desire.

Adam: Alright, let’s do this!

Jaune: That’s the spirit! Now, lets go and get something to eat. I’m starving.

Adam: Yeah, me too.

Jaune: By the by; The threat about Sienna gutting you with your horns still stands.

Adam: Noted…

Jaune: Good~!

\\\

Side note about this story:

Jaune is older in this, late twenties, Sienna in her early twenties.

Jaune saved Adam at a young age after he got branded. So, Adam isn’t as angry as he was in Og RWBY, but, he’s still scarred. The pair have developed a brotherly relationship since then.

Jaune has been at, Menagerie for a long time now, and has been living there as a huntsman helping defend it from Grimm, and training future, Hunters to help defend it. Including Adam, and Blake.

More in later updates.

Till later then.

[red-the-dragon-writes]

the misadventures of Skironir and Rubin

crossposted from DeviantArt, written for an "ARPG" on there.

Skironir and Rubin are my ruukans, which are like weird deer moose elk... things. I don't know. They're currently on a quest to get a magical talisman of Gay(tm) from a volcano. Rubin is a directionally-challenged liar, and Skironir is, unfortunately, In Love With Him.

“And you’re sure you know where we’re going,” Skironir said.

“I wouldn’t say I was if I wasn’t,” Rubin snapped back. He was lying, incidentally. He had, like, a vague idea of where to go but… in this weather? In this visibility? The sky was choked with ash. Rubin didn’t even know where the sun was, let alone whether they were going north or south. But the last thing he needed was Skironir bugging him about it. “Why?”

“We’ve walked past that rock three times already,” Skironir said glumly.

“Which rock?”

“That one. The black one.” Skironir gestured towards a little outcropping of some kind of volcanic rock with his head.

“Uh,” said Rubin. “What if it’s just three rocks that kind of look similar?”

“It’s the same rock,” Skironir said. “Look, I told you we should’ve brought someone else along.”

“Who else? Who else would come? In case you hadn’t noticed, neither of us are really overflowing with friends.”

“Well, there’s always Rahh—”

“Friends who can find their way through massive clouds of dust, not friends who will help us steal anything that isn’t nailed down,” Rubin said dismissively.

“Hey, you never know. And besides, aren’t we trying to steal a token? An extra friend or two wouldn’t go amiss, really. This was kind of a mistake—”

“Would you shut up?” Rubin snapped. “I’m trying to figure out where we’re going.”

Skironir grumbled a bit, but obligingly stopped talking.

Rubin squinted at the sky a bit more, struggling to see to no avail.

“I mean,” Skironir said, after a few moments of just complete silence. “Listen, if we just keep going it’s not like we’ll, you know, get any more lost than we already are.”

“Are you joking?” Rubin said.

“Um.”

“You have to be joking, right? That was a joke, right?”

“No, I was serious.”

“We’re not that lost. I sort of know where we are.”

“Is this going to be like the time you got us all lost in the runewoods by accident? I don’t even know how you managed to get us there.”

“What? No. No, I’m not, that was totally different.” Well, he had been lying about knowing where they were then, too. “Probably totally different. At least a little different.”

“I swear to Freya, if you’ve led us around on a wild goose chase looking for something you don’t even know how to find I am going to ditch you here myself, Rubin.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Did you actually—are we really here without any sense of direction? Did you actually do that? Are you for real?”

“Bickering isn’t going to help us find our way any better.”

“So far all that we’ve found is, apparently, a circle to walk in while you lie to me about where we’re going. I think bickering is a better option.”

“Listen, I know where we’re going, okay? I’m serious. I do. I got directions from someone else and everything. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

“Yes, you would.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

“Yes, you would. You have. More than once.”

“Well, I’m not now. Okay? I know where we’re going.”

“Where are we going, then.”

“Northeast. Like I told you. It’s somewhere at the very foot of the volcano.”

“And you’re really being serious about that.”

“I am.”

“If I find out you’re lying to me, I swear I’m just going to leave you here and go home. I mean it, I will.”

“I believe you,” Rubin said, which was a lie.

“You do, do you,” Skironir said sarcastically.

“I believe you mean it,” Rubin conceded vaguely. “Listen, let’s hunker down and wait for the sky to clear, alright? Just a bit? It shouldn’t take too long.”

“You’d know, would you? Been here before?” Skironir snipped.

“No, but how long could it last?”

It lasted a while.

The sky darkened and got light and darkened again, and the clouds of ash only got worse. It got to the point that they were both dusted gray-white with ash and coughing from whatever it was, something in the air making it heavy and acrid and hard to breathe.

“Sure we shouldn’t just start walking?” Skironir said, at the beginning of the first night.

“No,” Rubin said. “The last thing we need is to get more lost.”

And so they waited, and rested, and when the sun rose Skironir asked again.

“We’re not getting anywhere just sitting here. Are you sure we shouldn’t just pick a direction and start walking?”

“I’m still sure,” Rubin said.

“It’s getting harder to breathe,” Skironir pointed out.

“I’m still sure,” Rubin insisted. “The last thing we need is to get into a place where it’s harder to breathe and then have to stop.”

“Maybe we should give it up,” Skironir said.

“We’ve already come this far.”

“That we have,” Skironir said. “That we have.” And he dropped it, and they waited some more; and then when dusk came again and they were both coughing on the fumes, Skironir brought it up one last time.

“I really don’t think we should stay here.”

“I can’t see how getting lost will help.”

“I think we’re going to suffocate if we stay here.”

“I can’t see how getting lost will help,” Rubin repeated.

“I can’t see how sitting around like a pair of dumbstruck fools will help, either.”

And he was right, so eventually Rubin ducked his head and staggered to his feet, the motion harder than he’d expected. His body felt heavy. Must’ve been the fumes.

“Are— what are we doing now. Are we going?”

“Yeah,” Rubin said. “You’re right. Staying here isn’t doing us any good.”

“And I can’t imagine you can figure out where we need to go from here,” Skironir asked.

“No.”

“So let’s,” Skironir sniffed the air, and broke off into a set of hacking coughs. Rubin fought the urge to wince.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Skironir grimaced. “Let’s go that way.” He inclined his head away from the volcano. Or. Where Rubin thought the volcano was; away from the source of that awful sulfur breeze.

“I think that’s not—I don’t know where we need to go, but I’m pretty sure that’s directly away from it.”

“Do you want to walk into it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll go this way, and if we’re wrong we’re wrong.”

“I suppose,” Rubin said uncertainly. “We’ve come all this way, though. To go back empty-handed—”

“We can always try again.”

“…yeah,” Rubin said, eventually. “I just—I don’t want to lose our chance.”

“I know. Do you think I do? Obviously not. What do we have, a week left? Two?”

“Not enough.”

“But if we wind up dead, then of course we’re not going to manage it.”

“I know. But if there weren’t any risk, it wouldn’t be an issue—”

“Hanging out in toxic clouds is a little risk?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Rubin said. “Alright. Let’s—let’s get walking, see what we can find this way. You’re right.”

“Right,” Skironir said, and shook his head. “I swear, I can’t wait to get out of this cloud of smoke. I can’t wait for my eyes to stop watering.”

“I know, right,” Rubin said, and shook his legs off a bit. “Let’s head out.”

And they got up, together, out of their little shelter behind the crop of rock, and walked off into the gray haze.

...several days later...

“This is it,” Rubin said. “This has got to be it. Look, remember that whole little nonsense rhyme about the treacherous path and whatever-the-hell?”

“What if it was about something else?” Skironir said, looking dubiously at the sharp path. “I don’t think that can support our weight, if I’m going to be honest with you. Look, it’s practically crumbling.

“The lava clearly used to cover it. If it were that fragile it would’ve melted.”

“That’s even worse,” Skironir gritted his teeth. “Rubin. Do you know how hot lava is?”

“Hot.”

“Yeah. Really hot.”

“If we go across fast enough, it should be fine—”

“It’ll burn our hooves.”

“Not if we go fast enough.”

“Yes, if we go fast enough! Lava is super fucking hot, Rubin. It’s not a game.”

“Okay. Then I’ll try the passageway and you can stay here and then when I get the item you can’t have it.”

“That’s not fair,” Skironir said. “I came all this way.”

“Yeah, but now we have to keep going. And you don’t want to.”

“I just want to be sure this is safe.”

“It’s not,” Rubin said tacitly. “It’s definitely not. But the whole thing isn’t. We’re going into a volcano to get a magical item. What part of that sounds safe to you?”

Skironir sighed. “Yes, yes, I know. But there’s a difference between something dangerous but doable and just messing up out of recklessness. This is the latter, Rubin. You know it and so do I.”

Rubin sighed. Skironir had a point, loathe as he was to admit it. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine, we’ll try to test it.”

“How?”

Rubin sighed. “Uh, I don’t know. Let me just try crossing.”

“That’s… that… kind of defeats the purpose of testing it,” Skironir said.

“I’ll go slowly.”

“Still.”

Rubin snorted and turned away, looking back to the narrow rock ridge.

“Be careful,” Skironir said, evidently giving up on dissuading him.

“I will,” Rubin said.

The ridge was made of black basalt, but shards of volcanic glass poked up here and there, sharp enough to cut. Rocks littered the pathway, as though they had fallen there and gotten stuck. The whole thing was barely the width of Rubin’s shoulders, and it looked uneven. Not something Rubin would want to brave in any other circumstance, that was for sure, and that wasn’t even considering the deathly heat bubbling up from the magma deep below the cavern and running through the walls beside them. One slip would mean death, without a shadow of a doubt. And if he was wrong, and there was a channel of lava running underneath or inside that chasm, even stepping foot on it could mean death, too.

Rubin took a deep breath, shot off a desperate prayer to Loki znd to Odin, and set foot on the walkway. He half expected it to crumble under his feet.

It held. It was slippery, but it held. Rubin tested his weight, and then delicately set down his other foot. The pathway was so narrow that he had to lean his feet towards each other to avoid from setting it directly on the edge. Rocks shifted under his second hoof, and he felt around for a more stable foothold before finally setting it down and attempting to take a carful step forward.

It was slow going, finding the safe footholds, waiting to make sure they’d handle his weight. And the oppressive heat of the volcano only grew more and more intense the further over the ridge he got. Besides and below it, he could feel hot air absolutely blasting up at him, superheated from the laval below, and it was already hot enough to begin with here so close to the heart of the earth. With his luck, the earth would shake underneath him, and he’d go crashing down into that all-destroying heat—

“Please hold still, please hold still, please hold still,” Rubin murmured under his breath, feeling for a safe foothold for his next step.

“What was that?” said Skironir. “Are—are you going to fall?”

“No,” Rubin called back. “Just, uh, you know, I don’t. I think it’s fine, actually. Uh.”

“You sound nervous as hell.”

“I am! I’m walking on a tiny pathway over a whole bunch of lava! Please let me concentrate, so I don’t die.”

Skironir scoffed, but also shut up.

Rubin made it to about halfway over the ridge without issue, and then when he set down his hoof to take the next step, he felt an alarming slide start to happen, and picked his hoof up just in time for a whole section of the path to snap and go sliding down to the cavernous depths below. The path wasn’t destroyed, no, no, it was still walkable, but that was deeply concerning. Skironir hissed in a breath behind him, but Rubin couldn’t afford to focus on him, not if he wanted to avoid meeting the same fate as that cluster of rocks.

The rocks around it, Rubin probed around very carefully with one hoof, seeemed relatively stable, at least, and he kept walking.

“Rubin, I think you should come back now,” Skironir said, as soon as he started up again. Rubin slipped and hastily had to struggle to get his balance back, instinctively turning back to look at him.

“Uh, I can’t,” he said, after a second. “I can’t turn to look at you without overbalancing. I can’t walk backwards on this ledge without falling.”

“Oh, shit,” Skironir said.

“So there’s only one way to go, and that’s all the way to the end.”

“Oh, shit,” Skironir repeated. “Loki guide us.”

“I just hope he doesn’t start moving while we’re on here. The last thing we’d need, ha,” Rubin said, trying to keep his tone light, “would be an earthquake. Could you imagine that?”

“Oh, good gods. You’re going to jinx us.”

“Just… let me concentrate on getting all the way to the edge, okay?”

“We should’ve brought a rope.”

Now that was a good idea. “We should’ve. Next year.”

“Next year,” Skironir agreed.

“Please let me concentrate now.”

Skironir reluctantly fell silent. Rubin could hear him prancing nervously at the edge of the more solid ground.

For his part, Rubin managed, albeit nervously, to make it the rest of the way across the narrow ridge and onto a larger outcropping of rock. He turned, and attempted to school his body language into something a little more reassuring. “Okay, Skironir. Perfectly safe. Now it’s your turn.”

“Perfectly safe,” Skironir repeated.

“Perfectly safe.”

“If I die, I’m going to claw my way back to this earth just so I can haunt you. I can’t believe you’ve talked me into this,” Skironir groused, cautiously setting one hoof and then the other onto the path. Skironir was a shade smaller than Rubin, and he fit on the path a little more comfortably, although not by much. He picked his way across relatively quickly, compared to Rubin, but did so safely for the most part. And for his part, Rubin got to discover a fascinating little tidbit: it was actually more nerve-wracking to watch someone you cared about pick their way over a deadly flow of lava on the world’s narrowest crumbling path ever than it was to do it yourself.

But at least he was doing it safely, Rubin figured. He didn’t put his hooves down wrong once. He didn’t slip, and the rocks didn’t break out from under him. He was nearly all the way over.

Skironir set one hoof down on solid ground, and then the other, and then he put one of his hooves wrong of rthe first time and the entire path crumbled beneath him. Rubin jumped forwards, trying to catch him, and Skironir scrabbled desperately at the uneven surface of the volcanic rock. By some miracle they managed to get him up, and he didn’t fall to a terrible and painful death. Had he been half an inch further back, it most likely wouldn’t have worked.

Good gods.

“Skironir, I— are you okay?” Rubin asked, sniffing him carefully.

“Rubin, how are we going to get back?”

“What? Are—are you hurt?”

“Rubin. The path. How are we going to get out?”

Rubin blinked at the chasm, now inconveniently missing several feet of path.

Aw, shit.

[ericsonclan]

A Frosty Experience

Summary: Willy goes to the pool to hang out with Brody when he meets a new monster.

Word Count: 1810

Read on AO3:

Willy couldn’t wait to get to the swimming pool. He was planning on meeting up with Brody today who said she would bring along her swim team friend. The lagoon creature could feel his gills puffing up with excitement. It was always fun to meet a fellow monster who enjoyed swimming. According to Brody he was a cyclops who seemed to be rather shy yet warm. The lagoon creature ran down the hall, his webbed feet whacking against the floor when suddenly he noticed the PE teacher Javi happily walking forward with a cup of pudding in his hand. His tail happily wagged back and forth, practically swaying out of control when he took the first bite of pudding.

“Man, I fucking love pudding,” Javi’s ears twitched and his eyes wandered over towards Willy who skidded to a halt.

“Hey there! I totally wasn’t running in the hall!” Willy gave a toothy grin to the werewolf who tilted his head.

“Okay, good to know,” Javi gave a smile then followed the lagoon creature’s gaze towards the sign for the school pool. “Going for an afternoon swim?” The werewolf’s tail had returned to a regular pace.

“Yep! Gonna meet my friend, Brody.” Willy proudly declared, his gills puffing out.

“How about that, I know that monster. She’s quite the swimmer.” Javi leaned over and whispered conspiratorially   “Are you giving her a run for her money?”

“Yeah! She can barely keep up with my fast fins!”

Javi gave a small laugh. “Good, good. Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Careful not to run by the edge of the pool.”

“I will!” Willy sprinted off once more, completely forgetting the attempt to show that he wasn’t breaking the rule and running down the hall.

The werewolf laughed and shook his head good naturedly before he let the spoon wander back up to his mouth. “Mmmm, ridiculous!” Javi’s tail wagged energetically and soon the PE teacher’s focus was completely back on the pudding.

Willy continued to sprint to the pool and paused for a second when he didn’t see Brody already in the pool. He quickly shrugged it off and tossed off his jacket, taking his water containers off his wrists before kicking off his shoes. “The lagoon monster is back! Rahh rahh!” Willy’s webbed feet slapped against the floor and with a huge jump he cannonballed into the pool.

A few seconds later his head bobbed back up to the surface and he let out a series of happy fish sounds as his gills expanded then deflated. He lazily swam on his back and floated for a bit. It was nice to be in the water but it was way more fun with friends. If he had to guess where the selkie was, he’d bet she got distracted by a certain minotaur.

Willy kicked his feet in the water then dove down into its depths. Spinning around a few times he went from one end of the pool to the other. The lagoon creature popped back up to the surface and pushed back his wet hair. That's when he noticed her.

A girl with dark, stoic eyes was staring directly at him. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her right hand was busying playing with a smooth rock. She looked to be human. That was the lagoon creature’s guess until he noticed that frost was covering her finger tips. Small snowflake-like frost traveled up her wrists and was quickly hidden away underneath the mauve hoodie she was wearing. Was she a monster too? Willy thought about it for a second. He knew one thing for sure: she wasn't an abominable snowman. He had just learned about that monster today and she was definitely too cool and less hairy than they were.

“Hi there, I’m Willy,” The fish creature kicked his webbed feet and slowly moved forward. “What’s your name?”

The monster studied Willy's face for a moment before responding. “Allison.”

“Cool! Did you come here to check out the pool? It's super nice! You should come closer!” The fish creature smiled warmly which made the monster seriously consider the suggestion. Casually she moved forward and took off one of her shoes. The monster stared at the water, a sliver of fear dancing in her eyes for a split second before she dipped her toe in. As soon as she did so little ice sticks appeared in the water. Slowly they surfaced and gently spun round her foot.

“So. Cool!” Willy stared in awe and moved forward to examine the ice bits. The sudden movement and the fact that he was getting closer made Allison’s eyes grow large. Within seconds the entire pool was frozen solid with the energetic lagoon monster trapped waist deep a little ways from the edge.

“Sorry,” Allison whispered, her eyes falling and focusing on the floor.

“It's no big dea-”

Willy’s words were cut off when Brody let out a shocked gasp making the two young monsters look over to see the selkie in the doorway, her hand intertwined with Mitch’s. “Willy!” Brody ran forward with Mitch causing Allison to step back. Slowly the monster girl moved all the way into the corner, her eyes focused on the ground, flickering with guilt at what she had done.

“We gotta get you the fuck out of there!” Mitch let go of his girlfriend’s hand and angrily punched the ice but all it did was make his knuckles bruises. The minotaur hissed, his tail flicking back and forth in anger.

“Willy, can you feel your feet?” Brody looked over with concern toward the fish monster who seemed surprisingly calm about this.

“Nope, but it's okay. I’m sure Allison can just undo the ice!”

Willy’s confident words made Allison glance up, her eyes growing slightly larger. “I’ve only successfully done it twice,”

“Why did you freeze the pool then?!” Brody snapped, instantly regretting it when she saw Allison flinch.

“Hey, don't be mean to Allison,” Willy frowned over at the selkie.

“Don’t worry, Brodes. I’m breaking him out,” Mitch snorted and stepped out onto the ice. Stomping his hooves wildly he ran in circles around the lagoon monster who cheered him on.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I was talking with Minnie-” James froze in place when he entered the pool room. His hands hovered over the swim goggle that he was putting on his eye. His grip slipped and the goggle slapped against his face. “Ouch,” The cyclops shook his head.

“James, help me try to pull Willy out of the ice!” The selkie called back to her friend who jogged over. Both monsters grabbed an arm and pulled with all their might but it didn’t do anything.

“Oh, wait! I have the perfect plan! I’m gonna melt the shit out of that ice!” Mitch ran forward, slipping and sliding on the ice before disappearing out of the room.

“What's this perfect plan?” Brody called out to her boyfriend but he was already long gone. So she turned her attention back to ways she could break Willy out from the ice. Meanwhile James had noticed Allison in the corner and went over to check if she was alright.

“Hey there, I’m James. What's your name?”

The cyclops’ voice made the monster glance up before her eyes focused on her shoes. “Allison,” She continued to fidget with the rock in her hand, the frost quickly spreading across her fingers and coating its way up her covered arms.

James looked at the ice on her arms for a second. “Are you an ice maiden?”

Allison stopped playing with the rock for a second before resuming. “Yeah. Not good with my abilities though.”

“I’m sure if we take some deep, cleansing breaths and calm down you can unfreeze the pool,” The cyclops’ suggestion made Allison consider it for a moment then look over at the pool where Brody had grabbed the pool skimmer, using the handle and beginning to whack it against the ice.

“Stupid ice! Just. Break. Already!” The selkie tried again and again but it was no use, the pool skimmer metal handle was bent oddly and still the ice remained intact. Brody let out a frustrated groan. When she heard the sound of hooves grow louder.

“I got it, Brodes!” Mitch charged forward, a blowtorch proudly displayed in his hands.

Brody’s mouth fell open, slightly ajar at the plan her boyfriend had come up with. “Mitch, that's dangerous!” The selkie pulled her sealskin closer around her shoulders.

“I have to save Willy!” Mitch huffed, his tail flicking back and forth as he lit up the blow torch.

“You didn’t even bring the mask to protect your face!” Brody exclaimed in disbelief as the minotaur set the ice aflame with the blowtorch.

“Whoa! That's totally badass, Mitch!” Willy pumped both of his fists into the air. The flames sure were toasty and the lagoon monster could feel his skin drying up. Mitch soon noticed and immediately stopped the flamethrowering.

“Shit, sorry!”

“It's okay. Hey, Allison, do you wanna try to use your cool ice powers on the pool again?” Willy gave a toothy grin over at the ice maiden. Allison wasn’t sure why this monster had so much faith in her but it touched her heart. With a short nod she walked forward. Slowly she inhaled then exhaled, the air around her fogging up for a moment. The ice maiden’s eyes hardened and wind swirled gently around the ice covering the pool. Cracks and fractures appeared all around the ice making the fish monster watch in awe. Slowly the ice surrounding Willy became cracked enough.

“Hey! I can feel my legs!” The lagoon monster beamed. Brody and Mitch ran forward, each grabbed an arm and pulled. The ice groaned around Willy but eventually he was free from the frozen prison. He whacked his webbed feet against the tiled floor, a shiver running up his spine. “That. Was. So. Badass! You’re super cool!” Willy shot his hands up in the air and looked over at Allison who seemed confused why he was this impressed by her power.

“Nice tutu,” Mitch playfully nudged Willy who glanced down to see a small circle of ice was still stuck to his waist. Willy and Mitch laughed and the lagoon monster did a little spin when suddenly they heard some footsteps appear near the door.

After a few seconds Omid and Principal Christa walked into the pool area. The imp and the banshee’s eyes grew large at the sight of the pool still covered with ice that was now jagged and broken, the lagoon creature with an ice tutu and the selkie holding a damaged pool skimmer while a flamethrower lay right beside Mitch’s hooves. The group of monster students all shared a look. They were going to be in so much trouble.