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roseamonglilies · 2 years

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Love and Legacy : Part II

Viktor x Lab Assistant!Reader ▪︎ Part II of V

Part I ▪︎ Part III ▪︎ Part IV ▪︎ Part V

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: Some sexual content, sexual tension, im blue-balling you bitches, Viktor is still adorable no matter what, maybe angst (?) (idk it depends on how edgy you’re feeling)

A/N: It’s a bit shorter than I would have liked, but I wanted to get this out as soon as I could. I didn’t proof this either, so its possible there are chunks missing. Also should I keep the borders? I kinda like it.

An hour passed before you finally entered the lab. Jayce greeting you with his usual good morning wearing the same stellar smile of his you’d grown used to seeing. When your work with him had first started, you could have sworn you’d eventually go blind just by how white Jayce’s teeth were. You mumbled a reply, trying your best to reflect the same amount of joy, but your attention instantly drifted to Viktor once you noticed he was present too, tinkering on some small contraption. The hand in your pocket tightened. The piece it held, his tie, wound tightly around your fingers. The fabric felt like silk under your fingers.

He turned to meet, slipping a pair of blue-lensed goggles off his face. Circled indentions had already formed around his eyes as Viktor scanned you. Had you not been so preoccupied with acting ignorant in front of Jayce, you were sure his stare alone would have stopped you in your tracks. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, causing his collar to flare out distractingly. You could see his collarbone through the opening in his shirt, and the skin below it from a distance. One could only imagine what you could see up close. Despite the reddened indentions, his eyes had lightened drastically; they seemed so much sharper, piercing yours with a solidity that rocked you.

They shifted downwards, thinking about something you couldn’t guess. His eyes flickered back up to you for a fraction more before turning back to his work, wordlessly. He hadn’t even smiled or bothered greeting you.

A series of heavy clangs broke your line of thought, snapping you back to the present, and you had to remind yourself that you had your own work to do. There was a crick in your neck from the loveseat’s armrest. A pulsating pain that would likely worsen as the day went on.

Jayce had gone off on his own tangent, testing the atlas gauntlet of which he was so proud. Meaning Viktor was left to work on his own. For a good few moments, you watched him; he was adjusting the complex wiring of his hex claw. Apparently the early trials deemed the laser to be a bit too trigger happy, and he’d been trying to find a way to control its activation. There had been times, admittedly, when he or whoever wore the control-glove had almost lost a finger due to it’s jankiness. He seemed fixed on the machinery on the table in front of him, his lips were pursed thin, as he combed through the wires, occasionally refitting one to another point and then observing how the claw reacted.

Time crept on steadily, and despite the events of last night and this morning, you managed to keep yourself busy without distraction. Though it was oddly quiet since you did little to join in on any odd conversation between the two men. It was almost easy to drift into a world of your own, in which the only existent things were you and your duties. Especially since you were simply do a re-run of everything you’d done yesterday, it all seemed go blend smoothly between thought and action.

The experiment was fairly simple: you were to take a small sample of a plant that had come in contact with the hexcore, mix it in a solution of chemicals, and record any abnormalities or change in nature. As of now, nothing had occurred. You were growing nervous that the week you’d dedicated to this task was becoming a waste, but you continued. If not for the sake of finishing the data, at least in the hope that you might be proved wrong. But, as of now, every single specimen you’d tested had no change from the other, and it was clearly beginning to frustrate you.

Hours passed before the peaceful silence was broken.

“Having trouble thinking?”

His voice drifted into your ear in a whisper, softer than an ocean breeze. Apparently you’d zoned out for quite some time whilst watching the vials slowly change from a vibrant green to a mix of blues and browns. One in particular shone a pearly shade of yellow.

You could smell how close he was before you looked. Coffee and brown sugar, more fresh than the blanket from this morning, stronger, as his scent overwhelmed your senses; he must have just had a fresh cup. A part of you wondered if he liked it sweet or strong, but just entertaining the idea sent a wave of other thoughts through you.

You turned in your seat.

Viktor was inches, less than inches from your face. His breath fanned your face, and you felt the same coolness wash over your as you had this morning. It seemed to fan the flame that was spreading across your cheeks.

Wide-eyed you returned his gaze, biting your tongue when you realized what he was staring at. There were specks of dandelion in his otherwise brilliant gold irises. The hue reminded you of the short hour just before sunset, of a cloudless sky stained with the sun’s radiance that filled you with a sense of warmth unlike any other. As you found yourself drowning in their brilliance, you, for a moment, felt like Icarus, foolishly flying into the sun, fixated, unable to turn away. And like Icarus, it would only take a little more heat to make you fall too close, too much.

You had to fight to keep your knees from buckling when they moved from your lips to meet your eyes. They were calm, concentrated, analyzing the emotions you couldn’t hope to hide.

Your thoughts then crossed to Jayce, and you realized just how stale the room had been for the last 20 minutes without his constant talking. He must have left to get some food; the sun was almost set after all. You likely had as much time before his return. Before he would question the odd display.

“I must admit, I’ve had other things on my mind as well...” His eyes once again shifted, to an indeterminate spot on your check, frowning when doing so. A small exhale left his mouth, and he tilted his head ever-so-slightly in amusement. “Did you know you have ink on your face?”

“A-ah, no, I...” Your words caught in your throat when you felt his fingers brush against your neck, palm moving to cup your jaw. Gently, he lifted your face up to a better angle, ever closer to his own. Regardless of how delicately his hand felt to your face, the action didn’t cease to cause a shiver that spread from your back up to your neck. You sat in the uncomfortable chair, dumbfounded, unsure of how to process what was happening as he brought his other hand to his lips, slowly dragging his thumb across his tongue. He made an effort to be tender as he wiped away the ink, thumb lingering on your cheekbone when he seemed satisfied. He studied your face a moment longer, before finally giving you much needed space. The departure of his hands left a chill down your neck. You had to remind yourself to breath, though a part of you already missed his touch.

“I was worried that I may have overstepped some boundaries last night, I’ve been... trying to find a way to apologize to you.” He shifted to his right leg, holding onto his cane tightly. His knuckles clutching the crutch were white, trembling, though it hard hard to tell with how tense his entire body was.

“Why?” The question left your lips before you’d thought to ask. He seemed to stall with his answer, yet you wanted to... no, you needed to know.

“I feel... that I may have... taken advantage of the situation we were in last night. It was unprofessional of me, to put you in a situation where you had such little choice-” Your hand found his cheek, and suddenly, his words fell apart. Silently you leaned in, staring right through him. He stared back through a confused frown, eyes somewhat unsure as they searched yours.

“Did it make you uncomfortable?” His frown deepened, and you let your hands fall to his jawline to let him speak. Inches, again. Inches close, closing into less. He stole a glance downward when he noticed you bite your lip.

“What?” The question came out hoarse and airy. The sound was almost that of fear, though his eyes told you different.

He struggled with his words. It was kinda cute, the way he grappled with describing what was on his mind. You saw an opportunity in his hesitance.

“Were you uncomfortable last night?” You heart was beating through your chest, heat rising to your checks. If it were going any harder, you were sure the two of you could have heard it in the quiet room. In fact, it was lethally silent, you hadn’t even noticed until now; the loudest thing present was the sound of breathing: one was heavy, the other, uneven. You couldn’t tell whose was whose at this point, all your attention was on him. It was as though all of time and the space that surrounded you was waiting for his answer. “You left before I could ask.”

“N-no, I slept quite well, actually.” He stuttered. You swore you could feel an increase in warmth from the hand that still rested on his face. A shade of pink covered his cheeks. It was then that you realized he was the one with uneven breath; he was the one with irrational thoughts racing through his head. A level of uncertainty flashed in his eyes. “But I wasn’t sure if I- well…”

“Then don’t apologize.”

“Miss (Y/n), I feel I must-“

You were about to do something that would change everything, whether that be regret or relief, there was only one way to find out. Months, you’d waited, waited for something to put you two together, and this was it.

“Viktor, do you think I would have invited you inside if I didn’t want you there?” The question made his words fall apart, or, perhaps, it was the way you said his name, the way it slipped off your tongue, as though reciting poetry. His eyes widened, the blush deepened. He processed the question, repeating it in his head, until a certain light of understanding washed over his face. The uncertainty had all but vanished. “You wanna know something?“

“I do.”

You raised your head, and as your lips brushed against the shell of his ear, you could tell just how much he was shaking.

“If you hadn’t needed the sleep so bad, I would have joined you.“

There was an inhale from Viktor as he moved on your words. It took less time for him to step forward, acting on nothing but compulsion and desire, cup both sides of your face, and pull you towards him.

It was a shock at first, being kissed by Viktor. Something you’d only thought possible in dreams. Something you’d only since imagined during late nights, alone in your bed, wondering if he did the same on such nights.

You once wondered how he liked his coffee: Viktor liked it sweet. You could taste the sugar on his tongue as it brushed against yours.

You stood, taking it all in, the feeling, the emotions, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of it.

Your lips connected roughly, eyes shut, both reflecting a hunger that could only be satiated by each other’s embrace. Your hand found its way tangling through his messy hair; it was softer than you imagined. His hands found their way lining down to your waist.

You’d wanted to do this since the day you met Viktor. But, until recently, you thought your relationship would never go beyond that of colleagues. Viktor’s lack of expression was always assumed to be a clear message that he had no interest in romance, but now you understood why it took him so long. Why he seemed so hesitant to your acts of consideration. But now, held against him, you felt nothing but a reflection of validation. You kissed each other with impartial affection. His arms snaked down, further, inch by inch, until they were hooked around your upper thighs.

Wordlessly, he lifted you onto the work table, and you gasped his name against his lips as he pressed his entirety against you, resting snugly between your thighs. It was as if he barely thought about it. How long had he been waiting to do that?

Viktor leaned forward, breaking the kiss and resting his head against your shoulder to catch his breath. His breath pooled down your neck, causing a ripple of goosebumps to form along your skin. Viktor brought a hand to your lower back, slowly pulling you against his waist, trying to minimize any space left. He let out a groan when you wrapped your legs around him in response. A slew of curses left his mouth.

“You’ll be my undoing, Miss (Y/n)…” He hissed in your ear after finally breaking the kiss. The remark made your blush darken tenfold. To imagine Viktor saying something like that, god, it drove you over the edge. He lifted his head, studying your face the same way he did his notes, like he was trying to decipher the meaning, or find what may lie between the lines. They trailed down, memorizing each curve and indention of your body, until they finally rested on the buttons of your shirt. Your chest heaved as he began to fumble with them, hands trembling with what you imagined was a mix of adrenaline and impatience.

However, before he could even reach the third button, something flashed in his eyes, panic, and, without warning, he pulled away completely, making you and the pressure between your legs frustrated. He eyed the door to the lab. You were about to question just what he was doing until you heard it: footsteps, padding towards you. It would seem Jayce’s arrival meant an end to this encounter. Viktor sighed, and ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to brush out the cowlicks you had given him.

“I think it’s best that we leave this for now, unless we want Jayce to see this.” He paused, rolling up his sleeves, eyes shifting from the door back to you. You nearly fell on your ass in an attempt to sit in in your chair, shamefully distracted by his exposed forearms. Clearly, you were more flustered by Viktor’s actions than you’d first thought. He, on the other hand, had somehow managed to portray himself in a manner as if nothing had happened. As you re-buttoned your shirt, his hand caught your chin, pulling your head up to meet his. “Promise me we will continue this conversation another time.”

“I promise.” You nodded, and he returned the nod, a silent promise between you and him. Before he could step away, however, your hand caught his. “Wait- you left something in my room.”

Digging in your pocket, you pulled out the red tie, and handed it to him. His eyes flashed from the the tie to you, but he didn’t get the chance to say anything. With the sound of the door opening, he left you to fix yourself. Jayce sauntered in, an armful of food piled in his arms, nonethewiser of what had just occurred.

“Oh hey, you found your tie!”

#viktor arcane #arcane viktor #viktor #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #arcane league of legends #arcane league #viktor fanfiction #arcane fanfic

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copperbadge · 2 years

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digitaldiscipline

Sam, I keep seeing the WIP title and may I suggest "the ladyfingers and the tiger" to keep with the food theme?

Sadly for the same reason I could not call it Confit For A King -- there’s no confit nor ladyfingers! But there is a tiger. The tiger is a real tiger but also a metaphor. It all works in my head but it’s proving difficult on paper.

Also I’m going for a theme where I get progressively more pretentious with each title. Fete for a King is a dumb pun, Infinite Jes is a play on both Shakespeare and David Foster Wallace, and The Lady And The Tiger references an extremely pompous (and kinda sidelong-racist) short story by Frank Stockton illustrating a philosophical dilemma. Soon I’m going to be getting into like, Ayn Rand territory. Perhaps a story about the palace Conservation Corps officers called Atlas Shrubbed.

spiderine

Are. You. Out. Of. Your. Mind. We spend so much energy wrapping you in metaphorical bubble wrap and here you go dosing yourself with rocket fuel. Must we upgrade to kevlar before you turn yourself into a molotov cocktail?

See, this is making me glad I didn’t go with my original plan of buying Everclear and watering it down to 50% ABV.

cucurbitapuella

You could probably get away with an "in character" basic but not beautiful map - maybe Noah had to do it for homework, or Eddie made himself one to mark where the cheeses come from?

The idea of Eddie drawing himself some kind of deranged treasure map with CHEESE HERE in the upper left corner is extremely compelling. :D

sorelylackingsnifters

It is weirdly refreshing to see another person on this site who isn't engaged with every single piece of media out there. I am glad the gay pirates exist! But I'm going to be over here with my point-and-click games instead!

I think one of the downsides of social media with regards to fandom in specific is that it presents a skew of proportion, in a way. It’s not really polite (or...in some ways necessary) to hop online and just announce you don’t like something. We just don’t do it, unless we’re critiquing the media for problematic elements of some kind. And I feel like that’s appropriate, for the most part. But it can get frustrating to be bombarded by other people reblogging content from the thing we don’t like (or even are just indifferent to) to the point where you kind of want to announce your dislike out of sheer perversity.

But like, there’s nothing wrong with people loving something and reblogging content of it, they’re not doing it to pester us. So whenever I find myself getting frustrated with those posts, I immediately go and blacklist the thing -- generally tags but also character names not in tags, just to be sure. I do this because at that point I am officially Reacting and don’t want to harsh anyone’s good time for no reason. But it does kind of create a feedback loop where I think some people go looking for reasons something might be problematic in order to announce they don’t like a thing and have justification for doing so.

It’s one of those situations where we just have to gently restrain our inner toddler. I’m getting better at it as I get older; my policy these days is “If someone asks my opinion about something that isn’t actually impacting me, I will give it as truthfully but politely as possible, expressing joy in the joy of others. Otherwise I’ll keep my damn mouth shut.”

#sorelylackingsnifters #cucurbitapuella #spiderine #digitaldiscipline

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i-am-bitterly-jittery · 2 years

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On Death’s Doorstep (pt 4/?)

[<<Start],,,[<Prev],[Next>]

Word Count: 1673

Rating: Teen

Pairings: familial Moxiety, slow-burn Anxceit

Warnings: captivity, past abusive relationship, discussion of past murder, accidental misgendering (followed by a correction and an apology)

~~~START~~~

“~Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street!~” Patton happily sang along with the TV. It was day four of Knightcaster and his son living in their home — day two of them staying on the third floor instead of being held prisoner in Dr. Frankenstein’s lab — and Janus was still having a hard time wrapping their head around their new housemates.

A superhero in the home of four supervillains! What was this word coming to? Yesterday Janus went to the store to buy clothes for a toddler! (Knightcaster could make do with clothes borrowed from the rest of them, but they’d bought him some new underwear anyway.) someone was watching Sesame Street unironically!

Patton had been given more-or-less free reign of the building basically as soon as he’d entered (though the door to Remus’s floor and the door to Logan’s floor remained firmly locked at all times as neither could be considered “child friendly locations”). Knightcaster — Virgil — was another story; Logan had outfitted the building with sensors that would sound an alarm if Virgil’s power-cancelling cuffs ever crossed through either the doorway to the floor or any of the windows, and tracked his location throughout the building. He was confined to just the third floor, but personally, Janus would much rather be a prisoner on the third floor — with a real bed, TV, space — than handcuffed to a hospital bed in corner of Logan’s lab.

For his part, Virgil seemed rather content with this arrangement — the lack of privacy, that is, the fact that he was surrounded by supervillains clearly had him on guard at all times — even the part where Janus, Roman, Remus, and Logan could and did come and go from the apartment as they pleased went uncontested. The hero never said a word when they let themselves in, never asked them to leave if they hung around too long, in fact, the only thing he had done was ask Remus not to say “ass” in front of Patton, everything else he took in stride. And even when the twins went out of their way to annoy him, he wouldn’t say a word, wouldn’t complain…

Janus wasn't sure if it was because he was a prisoner and therefore felt that he couldn’t complain, or something else entirely, but curiosity pushed them to spend more time than strictly necessary on the third floor.

(And maybe something more than curiosity, shut up Roman.)

Janus had been making lunch (they hadn’t left any knives in the kitchen when they’d baby-proofed the apartment before letting Virgil move in, so Janus had had to pre-cut their ingredients back in their own kitchen) when the twins entered the apartment. The two of them surveyed the scene for a moment — Janus in the kitchen, Patton in front of the television, and Virgil sitting at the dining room table where he could strategically keep both Patton and Janus in view — before making a beeline for Virgil (though not without Roman sending Janus a knowing look).

Virgil glanced at them suspiciously as they both sat down across from him — they’d stopped trying to present themselves as the same person after Patton had spilled the beans to his dad about his new “friends” — and from the mischievous and curious looks on the twins’ faces, Janus could tell what they wanted before they opened their mouths.

Logan had been clear that second night when he’d told them all what Knightcaster had said, and he’d explicitly forbade any of them from pressing Knightcaster for details.

But Logan wasn’t here right now — he was out testing the waters now that the city didn’t have either of their superheroes — and the twins were tired of waiting.

“So,” Remus started, a slightly crazed smile spreading across their face. “Why’d you kill Atlas?”

All color drained from Knightcaster’s face and he quickly glanced at his son to make sure the toddler wasn’t paying attention — he wasn’t.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he hissed.

“Yeah but c’mon,” Roman pushed. “You’re a superhero, he’s a superhero — you guys even worked together sometimes! — what made you want to kill him?”

Remus nodded along enthusiastically. “Yeah, was he corrupt?”

“Are you corrupt?”

“Possessed by a serial killer?”

“Tired of sharing the spotlight?”

“Catch him stealing jelly beans?”

“A Soviet spy?”

“A French spy?”

“A Canadian spy?”

“A Californian spy?”

“A Korean–?”

“That’s enough!” Janus snapped. Virgil looked just about ready to shake out of his skin, and the eight extra twins crowded around the table surely weren’t helping.

“Sorry,” Roman offered sheepishly, his duplicates reabsorbing into him.

Remus pouted, but followed suit, sans apology. “We’re just curious,” she defended, addressing Janus rather than Virgil.

Janus held her gaze, a silent warning.

“Whatever,” she huffed, breaking the contact.

“I don’t. Want. To talk. About it,” Virgil gritted out a second time.

“Spoilsport,” Remus mumbled under their breath.

“Well, can we ask you how you become a government-superhero?” Roman asked, glancing at Janus. “Is that allowed?”

Janus just shrugged, it wasn’t like the question was actually directed at them, and they didn’t see any problem with asking.

“I don’t know who you talk to initially,” Knightcaster answered slowly. “But basically you submit an application like you would for any job — except that this application focuses heavily on your superpowers and not your previous work experience — and once your background check or whatever goes through, you’re escorted to a facility where they test the limits of your powers and assign you a level for each of them. If they like your powers and levels, they’ll bring you several long contracts to sign, and poof! you’re a superhero.”

“What? Just like that?” Remus asked, wrinkling their nose in disgust.

“Well there’s a year of training before they send you out in the field, but yeah, basically.”

“What kind of training?” Roman pushed, leaning forward in interest.

“Well there’s combat of course, some power-specific training, tactical training, a law course,” Virgil listed, his posture ever so slightly relaxing as he spoke.

“Law?” Janus perked up at that last one; they themself were technically a lawyer — when they weren’t a supervillain that is — and often took on cases pro bono.

“Yeah, that one was the most like a normal class. It was–”

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Patton announced suddenly, toddling over to the table and climbing into Virgil’s lap.

“I’m almost done making lunch,” Janus announced before Virgil could reply. “I made you a grilled cheese.”

“Thank you miss Janus!” The toddler replied politely.

Janus twitched. “Just ‘Janus’ is fine, thank you,” they said tightly.

“Buddy, you have to ask people what they want to be called,” Virgil explained softly.

“Oh, ‘m sorry,” Patton said as Janus placed a plate with a sandwich on it — whole since there weren’t any knives to cut it with — in front of him.

“I accept your apology. ‘Janus’ will be just fine; M. Janus if you’re feeling formal.” Janus returned to the table with a large bowl of pasta salad and four smaller bows for the adults to eat from.

“Okay!” The toddler cheered before turning his gaze onto Roman with all the seriousness he could muster — which was not much. “What do you want to be called?”

“Roman is just fine, young one, but I also go by prince Roman!” Roman declared grandly.

“Are you really a prince?” Patton asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“Yeah,” Remus muttered under their breath. “The prince of sucking a–”

There was a bang as Roman kicked them under the table.

“–pple… pops? Yeah, apple pops! They really like popsicles!”

“I like popsicles!” Patton informed them, thankfully oblivious to her original meaning. “Daddy, when we go home can we have popsicles?”

“…sure kiddo,” Virgil answered slowly grimacing. “We can have popsicles when we go home.”

“I like popsicles,” Patton continued blissfully. “They have popsicles at the park that look like daddy and papa.”

Three sets of eyes snapped to Virgil at that and the hero’s shoulders hunched protectively. The toddler continued on, unaware of the bomb he’d just dropped.

“Miss Sophie says we’re going to the park on Wednesday, maybe she’ll let me have a popsicle. I can’t wait to go to the park, they have a slide there that’s so tall that only the big kids can go on it…”

Patton continued telling them about the park — Janus didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was Thursday, and he’d no doubt missed his opportunity to go to the park and have a popsicle with Knightcaster’s face on it — but no one was listening anymore. Virgil held Patton in front of him protectively, as though the child could protect him from the questions he could see sitting on the tips of the villains’ tongues.

As soon as Patton finished his sandwich, Virgil stood, taking the toddler with him. “Y’know, it’s nap time for Patton, and I think I’ll take one too. Good talk guys, see you later!” And with that, the superhero and child disappeared into the only bedroom on the whole floor, shutting the door firmly behind them.

“I like him!” Remus declared after a moment.

“At least you know he’s single?” Roman tried, watching Janus carefully.

“I mean killing your abusive husband? Hot!”

“Okay, time to leave,” Janus said, ignoring both of them and shooing them out the door.

“Boo!” The twins jeered, even as they left.

“Why do you think Atlas was abusive?” They heard Roman ask as the two of them ascended the stairs towards Roman’s apartment.

“I mean, have you ever met him? He’s an asshole!” Remus answered right before a door shut, cutting off their voices.

Janus sighed to themself and got to work cleaning up the dishes. They’d probably have to tell Logan about this; they didn’t have much of a plan about what to do with Knightcaster yet, but this was probably relevant information to take into account.

They’d also see what Logan’s thoughts were on building a small playground on the roof. No special reason, just cuz.

~~~END~~~

I’ve been trying all morning to scrape up enough focus to edit, no dice, just take it

ODD Masterlist

ODD taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @knight-shives @lost-in-thought-20 @remy-the-lemon-berry @jinxcrafter @apinkline2715 @gothfoxx

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to-hell-and-beyond · 3 years

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“The Villainess Knight and His Princess”

Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz x Reader

Requested: Yes : No

Request: I love your Hawk/Eli imagines sm hi!!! Also random request I thought of: imagine Hawk coming to you after a fight and you doctor his wounds and such and just keeps flirting which you like play off but then he reveals he’s dead serious about crushing on the reader?? You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to, but just an idea lol 😂😂😂 ok bye! Thank you for being an awesome writer!-Anon

Sorry this took soooo long! I’ve been having a couple of hard weeks so I’ve been trying my hardest to come out with content.

Summary: Over the past few months your old aquanince has come to you asking for you to fix his wounds The whole time he continues to shamelessly flirt with you, what happens if he goes a little to far?

Words: 1043

You sat on your bed as you read through your favorite book. You’ve read it about 100 times now, but it always gave you this feeling of joy inside whenever you read it. It was about a Villiness Knight who is later found out to be a pheasant boy that got picked on in his village. The princess decides that she is going to find this Villiness Knight and put an end to his villiness crimes, but instead she falls in love. It’s a story about love and forgiveness.

You smiled to yourself as you got to your favorite part. The Princess and the Villainess Knight were getting to know each other by the campfire. Your thoughts were interrupted though, by the sound of something heavy hitting your window. You jumped out of your bed wondering what you should do. Should you run and go tell your parents? Should you open the window? The universe so graciously didn’t let you finish these thoughts as the window opened to reveal Hawk.

“H-hey Y/n.” He said as he coughed. You looked at him to see he had cuts and bruises all over his arms and legs. He had a hand on his abdomen and looked like he had just been chased by a bunch of killer dogs. You rushed to help him inside and helped pull his body towards your bathroom sink. You sat him on the counter as you looked through your cabinets for a first aid kit.

The two of you had been...friends before he became Hawk. Well, you wouldn’t exactly call yourself friends, more like acquaintances. You didn't like the people at your school, all there were rich girls and obnoxious boys. So you would find yourself sitting at Eli and Demitri’s table. You never talked, you would just read as they talked to each other about the newest comic. After his transformation to Hawk he had begun to flirt with you all the time. You didn’t think anything of it then, and you still don’t.

“What happened to you this time?” You asked. This wasn’t the first time the all famous Mohawk boy barged into your room and asked you to help stitch him up. You never asked what really happened, not caring about the Karte War that was happening in your town. But ever since he had made amends with Demitri you’ve been curious.

“Thought maybe if I ruff myself up a bit you would kiss me better.” You glared at him, you alway hated when he came inside your home and started to flirt. It was embarrassing, and well you knew it was all just a joke...and you didn’t want it to be.

“In your dreams. Now this is going to sting so don't yell, my parents are downstairs.” You’ve learned from the numerous times he has come here, that he screams when you try to disinfect his cuts. It’s almost gotten you caught a few times.

“They're all done.” He smiled at you as you began to clean up the counter.

“You're my hero now.” He winked at you as you sighed. Your heart is always beating fast every time he says one of his flirtatious lines. But at the same time you knew he said the exact same thing to every girl out there.

“Can you kiss me all better Doc?” He asked as your hand on the towel beside you formed into a fist. How can he just say things like that? Doesn't he know that you don't like it? That you wish you were the only one he said these kinds of stuff to? Was he that much of an idiot?

“Y/n?” He asked softly as he saw your frown and your heavy heart. He never had wanted to hurt you. He really, really liked you more as friends and he wanted the both of you to be together. He never knew you didn’t like his flirting.

“I’m sorry if I offended you.” You both sat in silence, waiting for the other to restart the conversation.

“I really like you Y/n, as more than a friend. I know that you think that I'm just being a flirty idiot but I really like you. I'm dead serious, I want to be with you.” You looked at him but kept your mouth shut. What if he was lying to make you feel better?

“I’m not lying Y/n, I-I think I love you.” You felt tears in your eyes as your breathing softened. He really was being serious. He actually really wanted to be with you! All this time you thought he was just being a jerk, he actually cared for you a lot.

“My parents are probably going to come up and check one me soon...How does 4 at that Taco place down the street on Saturday sound?” You asked as helped him off the counter.

“Like a dream come true Babe.” He winked at you again and you laughed. You helped him walk all the way towards your window.

“Are you sure you're okay? I can sneak you to the front door, it would be easier for you especially because of the cuts you have.” You asked in a worried tone.

“Yah I’m sure. If this taco date works out I'll have to use the window more often.” You blushed furiously as he laughed at your expression. You lightly slapped his chest as he continued to laugh.

“See you at 4.” He gave a quick salute as he began to climb all the way down your window. You watched until he got on his bike and drove off. You wanted to make sure that he was going to be alright. You actually had a chance with him now and you didn’t want to blow it.

As the sound of a motorcycle drove off, you walked towards your bed. You had made sure that there was no blood left on your bathroom counter before relaxing. You still didn’t want your parents finding out. You grabbed your book and flipped to the page you were last on and began to read again. It had looked to see that the Princess and the Villainess Knight had come tougher atlas, in true harmony.

#eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk x reader #hawk #hawk x you #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai #eagle fang #demitri #demitri cobra kai #oneshot

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zutarawasrobbed · 3 years

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I'm really sick and tired of taking something that is so successful and continue using it to make a franchise or something. Like Marvel.

Why can't they just leave ATLA and LOK as it is? Or even better, why can't they just make new animated shows?

I really don't want to see content based on the same universe. Maybe it has something to do with playing with nostagia to make something successful.

I share the same sentiment. I want to leave good enough. Are some things that can be improved and I’d like to see explored in the series? Of course. But the same people who have used the same formula aren’t going to accomplish anything but redundancies. Getting rid of LoK of canon opens more flexibility regarding positive changes that can be made. A sequel series could be created with a whole new set of hurdles to meet. Think about it.

Avatar: fight for peace or something

Summary aka something I pulled out of my ass

In a world conditioned for war, peace was a fiction only few could dream of. Children grew up with hopes for peace before being forced to grow up to fast when its reality’s victims came knocking on their doors. Team avatar ended the 100-year war with the fall of Fire Lord Ozai. But they too were children, and they soon came to realize winning the war was the easy part; maintaining peace is a battle all on its own.

There’s so much to build off with this concept.

Finding hidden airbenders. Because news flash as someone whose family history is filled with genocides, they are never 100% successful!

Zuko rebuilding trust with the four nations

Water Nation strife between the Nothern Water Tribe and the Southern Water Tribe and the Swamp (possibly a fight for independence)

More water nation exploration!

More lore into fire nation propaganda and its history what’s hidden (royal family secrets)

Fire nation infrastructure reform

Ursa being found but coming to terms that the circumstances of her disappearance are not as black and white as one may have once believed. just a complete overhaul of that comics shit show. (Ursa couldn’t return to her children because she was pregnant and all her plans changed.)

Toph getting some freedom and exploring without the stress of her parents. Having time to figure out who she is.

Azula redemption. It can happen.

Airbender Ty lee

Adventurous Katara exploding her independence and finding what she wants—helping to rebuild her tribe and finding what she wants and who.

Suki and Sokka (just their relationship is everything)

I could go on. But these are just some ideas to explore.

Overall, I agree, and Bryke just keeps milking this cash cow because they haven’t had another original idea nearly as successful as Atla.

#zutara #atla #zuko #katara #avatar the last airbender #my ramblings #Ari rambles #Ari is rambling again...#my ideas #Ari needs her meds #Ari is off her adhd medication #because she forgot #anti Bryke

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musings-from-mars · 3 years

Text

@nuts-and-dolts-week - Day 1 : Childhood Friends (or, acquaintances?)

((EDIT: I reblogged this with an AO3 link if you want to leave a comment!))

Ruby hadn’t really understood why her dad had been so nervous about this big trip to Atlas. A whole week in the most technologically advanced place in Remnant? How could this not be the coolest thing ever? Almost all of her Signal classmates were going on the week-long trip, too. Despite her dad’s “I don’t knows” and “maybes,” Ruby had managed to get him to sign the permission slip and pay the dues for her to go. Of course, his condition that he chaperone was annoying, but at least it was happening! Ruby couldn’t wait to see the cool tech and weapons at Atlas Academy.

Much to her dismay, however, Ruby realized this school trip was ending up being way more boring than she expected. As her dad had put it, this really was shaping up to be “an elaborate recruitment event dressed up like an educational trip.” High-ranking military types and grizzled old academy professors gave tour after lecture after presentation, but to Ruby, it all blurred together. Who cared about graduation rates, or quality of education? Ruby wanted to see the cool stuff!

Which is why, despite knowing it would probably get her in trouble, she sneaked away during a lecture on the history of the kingdom to try to look around for something more interesting. Her class had spent the whole day at this academy, so Ruby knew well enough that this place was huge. But she hoped what little she’d manage to see would feature something cool. Maybe a weapons workshop, or a tech lab of some sort. There had to be something around in these huge echo-y halls.

Just when she was about to give up her search and sneak back into the lecture hall, she heard something from a nearby room. She shuffled closer and listened, noticing the placard by the door, Project Workshop #307.

“Her software is coming along even better than planned,” a man’s voice from within spoke. “The specifics of her hardware is the more troublesome aspect. But as an individual, she is displaying a tremendous level of self-awareness and agency. Not to mention she is quite personable and friendly, if not a tad bit literal. I’m still working on her ability to detect hyperbole.”

“It’s very impressive,” another man spoke. He sounded familiar. “But I am certain you know that the hardware is the top priority at this time. I find you focus too much on this project’s more...sentimental aspects.”

“Yes, well, you did ask for her to be as believable as possible. And I feel she is well on the way to achieving that goal!”

“Indeed. But you do understand what I am telling you, correct?”

“Yes, general. Understood.”

General? General Ironwood, that guy who gave the big welcome speech that morning?

“Good. I am very satisfied with the progress you’ve made on this project. Keep up the good work.”

“Thank you, sir. Good day!”

Ruby heard the sturdy thumping of boots on the floor, and she panicked and petal burst away to hide under a nearby bench. She held her breath and watched as who must have been the general walk past, none the wiser. She sighed in relief, then began to crawl out from under the bench only to see someone else leaving the same room, and she yelped and hid once more.

The person walked by her hiding spot, or...a robot? Four robotic legs ambled down the hall, and Ruby thought for a second that a big mech had been released inside the school. She poked her head out to look, but instead saw a man in a chair. It was like a wheelchair, but...with legs. Still cool, but not a mech.

Once the man and his robo-chair had disappeared around a corner, Ruby turned her attention to the room he’d left. He’d shut the door and she feared it was locked, but was relieved when it opened when she tried the knob. She grinned and looked both ways down the hall one more time, then entered. Time to see what this project was.

The men had talked about software, and how realistic she was becoming. Was this an AI of some sorts? A completely artificial person, even? The concept blew Ruby’s mind, and she hoped that was the case. She entered the room and gently shut the door behind herself, then turned to see...a laptop. A laptop sitting on a table, surrounded by notebooks and papers. Ruby had been expecting something cooler to look at. Maybe an android, like the hardware the men had talked about. She gave the notebooks a closer look, and was at least intrigued by their content.

The P.E.N.N.Y. Project.

“Penny...” Ruby muttered in curiosity as she looked at the header of one of the notebooks.

The laptop screen turned on, a bright lime green. “Salutations!”

“Wah-!” Ruby yelped and almost fell over, instead managing to land her butt in a nearby desk chair. She looked at the laptop with wide eyes. The screen was completely lime green, save for a small power on/power off icon in the bottom right.

“‘Wah’?” The feminine voice asked. “What does that mean?”

Ruby held her breath as she slowly adjusted herself in her seat, then used her legs to roll her way closer to the monitor. “Hello?”

“Hello!” The voice answered with delight.

“Who are you?” Ruby asked.

“I am Project P.E.N.N.Y., but you may just call me Penny.”

Ruby’s jaw fell open, and she glanced at the notebook again. “You...you’re an artificial intelligence.”

The voice seemed to giggle. “In a way, I am. My intelligence is man-made, but my more proper categorization is ‘Synthetic Person.’”

“Woah...” Ruby murmured, staring at the screen.

“‘Woah?’“ Penny asked. “What does that mean?”

“It...” Ruby wasn’t sure how to answer. “It’s just a thing you say when, like, you see something really cool.”

“‘Woah’ is an exclamation of wonder?”

“Yeah!” Ruby said with a laugh. “That makes more sense than what I said.”

“Thank you for teaching me!”

“Uh, sure.” Ruby was talking to a computer. Or, well, a synthetic person. This was so flipping awesome! This was exactly the kind of thing she had been hoping to find.

“Who are you?” Penny asked.

“I-I’m Ruby.”

“It is wonderful to meet you, Ruby!”

Her enthusiasm was infectious. “And it’s awesome meeting you too!”

“You are the first person besides my fathers that I have gotten to talk to so freely.”

Her fathers? “You mean the general, and that man in the...spider chair?”

“Precisely!” Penny confirmed. “Pietro Polendina is the one who is designing me, and General Ironwood is overseeing my progress.”

“That’s really cool,” Ruby said with a laugh. “When do you think you’ll be finished?”

“That is uncertain at this time. My father is currently designing a physical body for me! But the problem with that is without an Aura of my own—”

The door suddenly opened, and Ruby spun around in her chair to face whoever it was. Except she spun herself a little too hard and continued rotating, having to turn her head to face the man in the robo-chair while scrambling to stop her spinning.

“P-pardon me,” the man said, eyes wide and glasses crooked on his face as he stared at Ruby.

“Sorry!” Ruby yelped, hopping to her feet and standing upright, rubbing the back of her head. “I, uh...” She then quickly fell to the floor and mimed searching around for something. “I dropped my...lucky bottle cap.” My what...?

The man adjusted his glasses and chuckled. “Child, shouldn’t you be with your classmates?”

Ruby’s cheeks warmed. “Yeah, uhm...I got lost?”

The man Ruby deduced to be the Pietro Polendina whom Penny had mentioned shook his head fondly. “I do not blame your curiosity, young one.” He glanced at the desk. “I see you have made an acquaintance, Penny.”

“Ruby and I are acquainted?” Penny asked, sounding excited. “I have never been acquainted to someone before!”

Pietro chuckled fondly, like Ruby’s dad would anytime she’d go on a ramble about weapons or types of Grimm. “And while I am all in favor of you meeting new people in time, I’m afraid all information to do with you is proprietary at the moment. You and Ruby will have to catch up some other time.”

“I understand,” Penny said. “My conversational software is very impressionable.”

Ruby stood back to her feet as straight as she could, feeling hot under her Signal uniform. “So, uhh, I should go, huh?”

“Do not forget about your lucky bottle cap!” Penny reminded her earnestly.

“Oh, uhh...” Ruby’s face burned.

Pietro let out a hearty laugh and shuffled his robo-chair to the side. “Run along, Ruby. You are certainly missing a riveting retelling of Atlas’ military history.” Humorous sarcasm tinged his words.

Ruby nodded and awkwardly marched to the door. “Y-yes, sir,” she said, then struggled with whether she should salute or not, then compromised with a wave. “Uhm...bye, Penny.”

“Farewell! I hope to talk to you again soon, acquaintance!“

#nuts and dolts week #rwby #nuts and dolts #penny polendina #ruby rose #pietro polendina #drabble

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theseerasures · 3 years

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For the meta thing, how about big sisters with absent mothers: Winter and Yang? Like, how they dealt with things differently and what a friendship between them would look like

anon i just want you to know that as soon as received this ask i barged into my girlfriend’s room to be like “is this you???” because this ask is so EXQUISITELY tailored to my personal interests that i was like “literally who else would cater to me like this” and it was not her, apparently!!! so thank you very much for this ask.

of course i have SO MANY thoughts about this topic that it took me a complete month to marshal them into something faintly coherent, if staggeringly long, so. i hope it’s worth the wait.

S(chnee)-side: how to lose brothers and alienate sisters

let’s start from some well-trodden ground: the season 5 character shorts, and their subsequent caricaturization via Chibi, which posit the Yang vs. Winter dichotomy as something like “Yang loves Ruby by diving into a monster’s mouth for her, and telling her she always has her back, and Winter does the same for Weiss by...siccing monsters on her, and telling her that she won’t always be around to save her from them.” much hay has already been made about the reasons why the two of them would act in the ways they did, so for the purposes of my own meta i’m going to skip over those, and concentrate on how content since season 5 has updated these conceptions.

and on Winter’s end of things, these conceptions have been updated by showing that she’s, uh.

...full of shit.

we’ve now had TWO instances of Winter going above and beyond to protect someone vulnerable. the first time was for Penny, with whom she has a sisterly bond, and the second time was for Ren, with whom she has...exchanged a few lines of dialogue. if she’s so ready and willing to hurl herself bodily into the path of an aggressor for someone who is basically a stranger, then why all the pageantry with Weiss about how she can’t (or won’t) save her? did she carve some kind of blood relative exemption into her saving people thing? does it only apply to people who wear a lot of green?¹

to properly address this question--and to bring in the Willow of it all--i think we should step back and ask: how does Winter actually feel about the Schnee name?

not Jacques’ name, mind. nor anything he did to besmirch it. Willow’s name, and Winter’s birthright.

because what has always been interesting to me is that while Weiss has talked about reclaiming or rehabilitating the Schnee name from their father’s meddling and still clearly wants to reconcile herself with it, even after being disinherited, Winter has only ever talked about distancing. it’s entirely possible that she had similar aspirations when she was around Weiss’ age and was just more thoroughly disabused of them, but my point stands: Winter shows a discomfort with the Schnee name overall in a way that Weiss has yet to. you don’t have to look any further than Winter’s combat style to see how this discomfort is telegraphed, as she barely uses any Dust, or Glyphs, and the one aspect of her Semblance that she does use and tout are Summons, which just so happens to be the part that emphasizes her own individual ability to conquer foes. something about the Schnee name feels irreconcilably tainted for Winter,² and while i’m sure a large part of it has to do with her father, who can make her explode into emotion confetti by just being in the same room as her for thirty seconds, a not-insignificant part can probably be chalked up to the fact that...

Willow Schnee was probably never all that good a mother.

granted: we’ve have exactly one scene (two if you count the 8.2 sneak peek) with her, so i’m fully ready to be called Boo Boo the Fool if we get a flashback and Willow was some kind of crusading super-mom prior to her descent into alcoholism, but. the idea that she hasn’t ALWAYS had to compromise herself and her children just to get by feels facile. this is not to victim blame, but to say that Willow is an imperfect person (in that she is. a person) placed into a horrific situation, which means that she could not always deal with the situation perfectly. it’s important to remember her agency--both before and after she became an alcoholic--but it’s just as important not to idealize it into something it’s not. Willow was by no means a co-abuser to her children, but she was probably always inconsistent, because living with your abuser for years on end does that to you. personally, i’ve always envisioned pre-alcoholism Willow as...well-meaning and much more perceptive and intelligent than people give her credit for, but beset with her own flaws that grew in proportion to her hurt and bitterness. she was capable of shielding her children from her husband’s worst excesses, and often did; but she was just as capable of retreating when she might have fought, of excusing Jacques’ actions to try to keep the peace, even of lashing out at those who shouldn’t have to handle her negative emotions.

her descent into alcoholism exacerbated these tendencies, but Willow has always been a complicated woman, and the idea that there was a prelapsarian time when Willow was an unmitigated good, before...idk, her Good battery ran out and she became Drunk Victim Non-Mom, is...well, it’s definitely something that a ten-year-old who had an ENORMOUSLY traumatic birthday would believe (and blame herself for), but Winter might disagree. i don’t think her view would be any more objective, if only because the day Winter Schnee has an un-myopic thought is the day i pass gracefully into the West, but her view is probably more complicated and less flattering, because Winter knew her mother more as a person, and that’s something we’re gonna talk about more with Yang and Ruby, later.

the point i want to make now, with Winter, is that her determined inconstancy, where she’ll readily jump into the jaws of a monster for her siblings in one breath and berate them and caution them against needing her in the next--that comes from her experience with Willow. the lesson she wants her siblings to learn is not just “the people who are supposed to love you are cruel, so get a helmet,” but “the people who are supposed to love you disappoint you, which is worse, so it’s better to not rely on them at all.”³ better for them to learn it from her than firsthand, but also--better for herself, because when she does disappoint them (and she did. she left.) at least she can take comfort in the fact that surely it doesn’t hurt as much; she warned them, after all.

in Winter’s mind, this kind of disappointment is an inevitability, so what’s paramount is to make sure that when it does happen her siblings are at least prepared for it. in the face of that the fact that she would actually risk life and limb to help them if they ever need it falls to the wayside; i don’t think it was a mindful decision that Winter consciously made--like, i don’t think she ever thought “i’m going to withhold the fact that i would die for them because that would contradict the whole social Darwinism thing i’m trying to drill into their heads,” because Winter’s just...not that kind of deliberate rational actor, in any arena. rather--and maybe even more damning--i think she just assumes that Weiss and Whitley already KNOW, that it’s a given for them the sacrifices she’d make for them in the same way it’s a given for her. but they don’t! because you have to say these things, and Winter has been force-feeding them the precise opposite.

ultimately all of these contradictory impulses stem from Winter’s deep-seated need for control--both of herself, and of the environments around her, and those in turn come from the fact that she was a) repeatedly wounded as a child and b) had to shoulder responsibilities far beyond her own ability as that same child, which...continues to this day. from this perspective, what matters is less keeping her siblings safe, and more her own ability to save them. she knows that’s imperfect, so she compensates by enforcing what worked for her onto them, and also by keeping them away from anything that could harm them, without their input. i never thought much of the contrast in environments for the character shorts--like of course Weiss would spar with Winter’s Summons at home like the untested shut-in she was--but what did take me aback was that in season 7, after Weiss has waltzed across an entire continent and been promoted to a full Huntress, Winter...still exclusively trains Weiss with her Summons up in Atlas, while Ruby and Yang are traipsing across Mantle killing ACTUAL Grimm. i have no doubt that this was for foreshadowing reasons, but still: it points to the fact that for all Winter loves Weiss and would fight giant monsters for her, there’s a part of her that...doesn’t trust Weiss, and wants to maintain control over her.⁴

this, i think, is part of the reason why Whitley treats her basically like an un-person: it’s not just that she left when he was too young and Jacques filled in all the gaps with lies and slander, it’s also that even when Winter was around the bigger age gap made it much easier for her to reconcile keeping him out of the loop, for his own good. she can’t ever be vulnerable around either of her siblings, but especially not Whitley, because he’s too young; he might let something slip when they’re around Jacques, and she shouldn’t be putting that kind of burden on him anyway. if he resents her when she’s just trying to protect him--except you said that you wouldn’t, Winter you absolute moron--then that’s his prerogative. it doesn’t change her own responsibilities. they can be miserable and Byronic in their own separate cubby holes and it’s fine.

(it’s not fine.)

R(ose)⁵-side: tonight, the role of Replacement Goldfish will be played by...everyone

let’s get one thing out of the way: Yang is a GOOD big sister, and some of the ways that she is good can be chalked up to the fact that she had a better home life, but only some. her character short ends with her promising Ruby that she’ll always have her back after spending the short proving it, and she has--until recently, and we’ll get to that--lived up to it. people get caught up on how much time Yang spends with Blake nowadays, but it’s important to remember that the entire impetus for Yang reuniting with anyone during the Mistral arc was about Ruby. so is the thing that separates a Yang from a Winter is that a Yang preaches what she practices, and isn’t firing a million zillion mixed signals at all times?

well--yeah, basically, but we’re gonna make a big thing out of it anyway.

what made Yang and Ruby different from the Schnees--even before the character shorts--was a sense of parity. in contrast to Winter insisting on maintaining a) the most unapproachable facade in the world, and b) a death-grip on every situation at all times, Yang was characterized from the outset as...chill (ironically). despite her Semblance being LITERALLY hotheadedness, Yang’s passionate energy never manifested in any real desire to take charge. the fact that she was fine (even happy!) with Ruby being bumped up to her year and then becoming leader speaks volumes to how much Yang trusts and respects Ruby’s judgement. rather than try to mask her flaws, she exudes this kind of...radiant fallibility and lets Ruby take care of her, or keep her in line. they complement each other: Yang takes care of more grounded concerns like individual fights and making friends, while Ruby--again, until recently--set more abstract goals and gave them moral direction.

a lot of this can be attributed to the smaller age gap, but i think it also comes from growing up as two motherless free-range children on an island--and the motherlessness is obviously a huge deal for both of them. when i started writing this i honestly thought i’d talk more about Raven, since she’s the mom who’s actually a character already, and her absence plays a huge role in how Yang deals with her abandonment issues in the present, but to be honest: the loss that cut the deepest for Ruby AND Yang is Summer, because Summer was actually around enough to be lost. despite the show frequently dividing custody of Team STRQ right down the middle between Ruby and Yang, where Ruby “gets” Summer and Qrow and Yang “gets” Tai and Raven, it’s the admixture of Rose and Branwen that makes the two of them who they are.⁶ Yang spent more time with Summer, but Ruby spends more time with Qrow, who is Yang’s blood uncle, so the dichotomy between nature and nurture is fascinatingly blurred.

i know this is an unpopular opinion, but i hope Summer really is dead, because the ways that her daughters interpellate their own identities from her absence drives so much of the story. that SUMMER was the first mother Yang lost--not Raven, because Yang didn’t even know about Raven until Summer died--is what shapes her relationship with Ruby, but also her relationship with Raven. what’s always simmering just below the surface of any Yang-Raven confrontation is that the person Yang actually wanted to find the whole time she was looking for Raven was Summer, because she wanted a mom, and a mom looked like Summer. Raven’s not stupid--it might be her one redeeming quality--so it’s likely that she’s always known and resented this. it’s not an accident that the moment Yang stopped looking for Raven for Raven and started looking for her for an easy conduit to her real family was the moment she actually found Raven.⁷ it was the first step to Yang outgrowing her old habits, of waiting for a mother to return--a classic “she needed a hero so that’s what she hurdy blah”

in a way that’s what she’s been doing this whole time. in contrast to Winter, who compensated for her mother’s flaws by ratifying them into universal law, Yang did the same by defying their supposed truth: people might leave her, but she won’t leave Ruby, and Ruby won’t leave her. it’s telling that whenever Yang leaves--even as a literal child--she always took Ruby with her, even if she planned on coming back. (it’s just as telling that when Winter left she didn’t.) she’ll always be there for Ruby, to give her the boost she needs to become the Summer they all want her to be, which means being a little of Summer herself--the part of Summer that baked cookies and slew monsters. and in return Ruby gave her...a sense of certainty, i think: that Ruby needs her and therefore won’t leave, but also that Ruby has the parts of Summer that Yang can’t muster herself--the grand heroic ideal, the moral certitude, etc.

...and now we’re finally gonna talk about the Schism, which i honestly think is the best thing that has happened to their relationship, development-wise. by the end of the Mistral arc Yang has arrived at a healthier perspective with respect to her relationships with everyone: now it’s not about indiscriminately giving herself away to people in the hopes that they might not leave her, but about choosing to give herself away to the people she loves and trusts. on one level this should not conflict with her relationship with Ruby at all, because Yang loves Ruby, but on another...the fact that Yang no longer feels obligated to perform unending support, to be the grounded complement, to fill in the parts of Summer that Ruby can’t--of COURSE that’s going to bring about conflict. because it turns out Yang never needed Ruby to give her direction or discipline. she’s now had time to think of the things she herself values, and those...don’t exactly match up with Ruby’s--or Summer’s.⁸ Yang, having known Summer as a mother, having been confronted repeatedly with the fallibility of mothers, is starting to outgrow Summer, and grow separately from Ruby.

but growing separately doesn’t have to mean growing apart, and i think Yang, at least, knows this. she clearly feels Some Kinda Way about their disagreement (and Blake’s implicit alignment with Ruby), but she’s also confident enough in her own beliefs by this point to commit to them. Yang’s taking charge instead of deferring to Ruby, and it turns out that...she’s actually not a bad leader herself, since she and Jaune have pretty much split a lot of those responsibilities. for her it’s not a question of losing faith or love in Ruby as a person, but about discovering what she herself fights for.

Ruby...sees it differently, because Ruby sees Summer differently. if Yang has always defined herself against Summer by deciding that she can NEVER fully be Summer, so she’ll make do with what she can, then Ruby’s always defined herself against Summer by marking Summer as the endpoint of her personal trajectory. what Ruby knows of Summer--that she was a person who enjoyed life and did not believe in original sin, that had a magical special destiny that was totally fine and awesome and didn’t drive her to her death, that she was a baker of cookies and slayer of monsters--is what Tai and Qrow--and Yang--told her about Summer, because Ruby was too young to remember the real Summer. so Summer for her is this abstract paragon to live up to, and no more. she can’t possibly exceed Summer, because the Summer Ruby knows encompasses literally all that is good.

when Yang tells Ruby “i’ve always got your back” in the short, a lot of it is about Yang, and the ways Yang needed to be there for other people so they’ll be there for her in return. but it’s also something Ruby really needed to hear, because Ruby needed the security and comfort of knowing that even if she screws up there are people around her who can help shoulder the burden. that security already took a serious hit after Yang lost her arm, but Ruby, kind and generous person that she is, was able to reconcile with that, because YANG HAD JUST LOST HER ARM. it would be ridiculous to expect Yang to have her back the way she used to, and besides--it was time she grew up, and growing up means becoming more like Summer, all of Summer, by herself.

and...she gets pretty far, is the thing, because Ruby IS a lot like Summer, and is incredible and amazing all by herself to boot, but the point is that no one should feel this much pressure to be All That Is Good, especially when you’re a teen. Ruby’s not ready to recognize that, partly because at this point so many people are looking to her for leadership, but also because being Summer’s heir is the only real link she has to her mom.⁹ so she hunkers down and does the best she can, in a situation that has far spiraled beyond anybody’s control...and then Yang tells her that it’s not working out, that this time it’s not that she can’t have Ruby’s back, but that she won’t. in Ruby’s mind, this could only mean one of two things: either Yang no longer believes what Ruby believes--what Summer believed, or...Yang no longer believes in Ruby, because she wasn’t good enough.

and well. it’s Ruby. it’s not hard to guess which reason she’s picking right now, especially since she pretty conspicuously refused to call the shots during the Amity heist.

but this is of course a false dichotomy. it’s not about which one of them is right, or even more right, and the show does a very good job with the framing to show that both of them have a point. similarly, what Ruby needs right now is neither confirmation that her long-held beliefs are objectively the best ones, nor that she is good enough to become Summer after all. no; what she needs instead is the knowledge that she’s allowed to fuck up, to deviate from what people have told her about Summer, to become what Summer never was. that’s something Yang can--and will--help her work out.

oh no this analogy is breaking apart: how they’d get along

...oi.

look, even beyond the fact that Winter doesn’t get along with ANYONE over much, i don’t think there’s any universe where she wouldn’t immediately rub Yang the wrong way. not only because Winter’d initially treat Ruby with the same cold tyranny that she (up until very recently) treats Weiss, but also because Yang’s partner is Blake, and--to say nothing of Atlas/Schnee-on-Faunus oppression--she was personally made collateral during the fallout with Blake’s abuser.¹⁰ i myself wouldn’t say that Winter abused Weiss, but to Yang’s protective and skewed view...

well, can you imagine Weiss trying to explain the way Winter ~~~trained her to the Bees? “oh, she sent a pack of Beowolves to hunt me! it was a meant-to-lose fight and when i started doing well she just moved the goalposts. one of her wolves almost ate me before i begged her to stop but it...probably...wouldn’t have...it was fine! my Aura didn’t dip THAT much. Winter’s the best!!” Yang’s hair would have been on fire after the first sentence, is all i’m saying. this coupled with the fact that Yang would very likely view Winter leaving Weiss and Whitley through the lens of Raven doing the same thing to her, and i think it would take a pretty long time for the two of them to see eye to eye on anything.

which is not to say that they have nowhere to go but antagonism, because at their cores Winter and Yang both have a) no hesitation whatsoever when it comes to protecting the people they care about and b) a tendency to define protection literally, often bodily. the difference is that Yang’s Semblance weaponizes these protective instincts for her, and she learned the limits of taking that too far. Winter...doesn’t, and hasn’t.¹¹ that COULD lead to some interesting conversations, but i don’t think Yang has quite the emotional clarity and generosity to reckon with that yet, and they’re not about to talk about it inside the Giant Whale.

a necessary part of Winter’s development is learning to respect the people around her instead of instantly categorizing them into boxes labeled “to fight” and “to protect and order around.” her friction with Yang could be an intriguing way to explore that; i have no doubt, for example, that Winter would have hurled herself between Elm and Yang just as readily as she had between Elm and Ren. similarly, i think if Winter ever were in the same room with both Raven and Yang she’d last about ten seconds before trying to rip Raven’s hair out with her teeth, because Raven is neglectful and casually demeaning in ways that are instantly recognizable to Winter (in the same way they were to Weiss).¹² the issue is that her doing any of these things for Yang--y’know, the same Yang who IMMEDIATELY gave Blake the cold shoulder when she tried to pull the whole “i’ll protect you” crap--is that she would only find it confusing and frustrating, and likely wouldn’t mince words expressing that.

Yang’s a big sister herself, and therefore knows all the big sister tricks, and Yang has a consistent pattern of not wanting to rely on other people, particularly people she sees as adults. so the best path toward a Winter and Yang friendship is probably not the head-on approach, but obliquely through someone else. that someone else can’t be Weiss, because Yang would be already hypervigilant about the way Winter treats Weiss--but it could be Ruby. even putting aside the fact that she is now one of the most important people in the world for BOTH her sisters, Ruby herself is very easy to love, and Winter loves very easily, despite herself. what they have in common--idealism and a martyr complex--would also engender some cool interactions, and Ruby would let Winter take care of her, if only to make Winter feel better.

i could see that being the impetus for Yang tentatively, grudgingly forming her own friendship with Winter, because there ARE things that Winter can give Yang, even if Yang can’t (or won’t) admit she wants them. it’s nice to try out being the kid sister, once in a while.

still, even if they get that far: i can’t imagine their relationship as anything friendlier than this.

¹ tbh neither would actually surprise me; what Winter does and doesn’t let herself do is only knowable to the Gods Who Have Forsaken This Land, and they’re certainly unknowable to Winter herself.

² maybe she knows that the whole “the Schnees were up-from-bootstraps-good-capitalists until that guy Jacques came along” thing is stupid!! i don’t care that he’s Santa Nicholas Schnee ain’t shit

³ this i think is why the current thing with Ironwood is such a bitter pill to swallow, because...she thought she’d been so careful. not in thinking that she’d chosen a man who couldn’t disappoint her, but in caring so deeply about him and investing so much of herself into him, despite the fact she’s only ever let herself call him “sir,” or “General.”

⁴ though i will say, to give Winter some credit: she actually accepts the fact that her sister is totally her own person now with a lot more aplomb than i’d expected, both in the “you stole an airship” scene and during all of Sparks. i wouldn’t be so generous as to read subtle treason into her disclosure of Ironwood’s Winter Maiden plans, but it does point to Winter’s desire for control being much more easily unlearned than that of her boss.

⁵ geddit? it’s a joke about handed-ness because now they both have the Hand Tremor

⁶ Tai is, as always and on purpose, the stabilizing agent. “appropriately underwhelming,” as Winter might put it, but absolutely essential.

⁷ of course then Raven had the gall to resent THAT too, because she’s the worst, and...see above, about Winter Schnee’s self-unknowing.

⁸ curiously, the values that Yang most espouses now--the importance of knowing what you’re getting into, protecting what is tangible, what is within your ability--are a) hard-won from years of taking care of Ruby and b) ones that she shares with Raven. the only difference is that Yang’s circle of protection extends far beyond Raven’s, which only includes herself.

⁹ weirdly enough the best person to talk to Ruby about this might be Raven, who has a very skewed perception of Summer herself (because Raven’s perception of EVERYONE is generally fucked up), but probably won’t hold back when talking about Summer’s flaws. Ruby won’t want to hear any of it, but i think she needs to.

¹⁰ i do think Blake and Winter would have some interesting conversations, if Blake ever...was generous enough to deal with *gestures at all of Winter.* it’s easier to compare Blake to Willow given the shared nature of their interpersonal abuse, but Winter on the other hand knows what it’s like to be hand-picked and groomed by a charismatic man with a singular vision who ended up wholly compromising that vision for the sake of their personal ego. that the White Fang are a good force perverted while the Atlesian Military is rotten to the core would...make the conversation more lively? it’s probably fine?

¹¹ “i’m Winter Schnee and i have maladaptive coping mechanisms that i am currently clinging to, as a maladaptive coping mechanism”

¹² though there...probably IS a world where Raven and Winter end up getting along after the initial skirmish, and it disturbs Yang and Qrow to no end

#Anonymous #yang xiao long #winter schnee #rwby #tl;dr they both play vanguard when they play mass effect #helen writes meta

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mdelpin · 3 years

Text

The Red Dragon - Chapter 35 (Final)

Cover Art by @khaoticvex

AO3 | Tumblr: Ch1 | Ch34

And here we are at the end. 2 years and 10 months and a little over 200K words later.

It's been a long time coming and I want to thank you all for your patience as this was not an easy story to write. I hope you enjoy this final chapter, I tried to get in everything I reasonably could.

Chapter 35

Gajeel gazed at Wendy as she watched the huddled figures of Natsu and Gray sadly. He could tell she was about to go over there, and he held out a hand to her.

“Don’t,” Gajeel warned. He’d directed it at Wendy, but he meant it as a warning to the others as well. “I don’t have the first clue what the hell all that was about, but I do know Natsu doesn’t need us all over him right now.”

“But-” Wendy protested, seeing as Happy had crept closer, but even he was giving them some space, content to rest near them.

Gajeel could hardly blame her. He felt the same urge to comfort Natsu. He knew exactly what it felt like to have your parents ripped away from you unexpectedly. Could relate to the emptiness and shock Natsu was undoubtedly feeling, which was why he also knew that his friend wouldn’t want anyone but Gray and Atlas near him at the moment.

It had been a long, exhausting battle, and it left him feeling battered. It all felt so anticlimactic. They’d finally put an end to Acnologia’s carnage, but he could find no joy in it. His heart felt heavy in his chest and all he wanted to do was collapse on the ground and avoid moving for a while, maybe thinking too.

Whatever they’d just witnessed, and Gajeel understood precious little of it, Igneel had been someone he’d cared about deeply. The fire dragon had always taken an interest in all the dragon slayers, chatting with them and making them feel at home from the first moment they had met him and the rest of the dragons. And he’d always seemed larger than life. Gajeel was still having trouble accepting he was gone, but with Natsu out of commission for the moment, it fell to him to once again be the leader of their little band of misfits.

The battle had taken a lot out of all of them, especially Natsu and Happy. They wouldn’t be flying home for a while. The best thing they could all do for now was to get some rest and recoup some of their energy.

Gajeel moved away from the three dragons, nudging Wendy to follow. He found them a spot where they could sit somewhat comfortably and wait for Atlas to return with Irene and Oliver.

“Do you- do you think he’ll be alright?” Wendy fretted, as was her way.

Gajeel could only shrug, “I’m sure he will, but he’s going to need some time. We all will.”

Wendy nodded and Gajeel changed the subject for both their sakes. “Rogue handled himself pretty well out there, don’t you think?”

“Yes!” Wendy immediately perked up. “Those legs you made him work really well. He fought just as well as he did before.”

Gajeel was about to say something about it to Rogue when he noticed the Shadow Dragon slayer and Sting were still locked in an embrace. “Ugh, you’re all disgusting. I seriously need to find a girlfriend. I’m so tired of watching all of you.”

Wendy smiled, “Well, you should definitely have better luck with that in Talos than you did in Drak Aast.”

In his defense, it wasn’t like there had been that many female dragon slayers in Drak Aast to begin with, and the few there had been were not overly fond of him.

“Oh great, here comes yours,” Gajeel groaned as he noticed Atlas approaching.

The hellfire dragon landed near them and as he crouched down, his tail swished, yeeting Acnologia’s corpse several yards away from them, where it slammed to the ground with a terrific thud.

Atlas looked completely unrepentant.

“Holy Shit! What did I miss?!” Oliver asked, sliding off Atlas’ backside and studying the remains of the clearing in dismay. Irene followed him down in a more dignified manner.

“Everything.” Sting rolled his eyes at the lightning dragon slayer before sitting down near Gajeel. “As usual.”

“Hey! Don’t say that like I do it on purpose,” Oliver complained.

Gajeel had to snort at that. Oliver had always been slightly accident prone, but once they’d arrived at Drak Aast, hardly a day had gone by without him coming to see Wendy for healing. They had soon come to realize he had a massive crush on her and had gone to splendid efforts to make his life a living hell until Wendy had made them stop.

“Oliver!” Wendy rushed over to her boyfriend, using what little magic she had left to check his injuries.

“I’m fine, and even if I wasn’t, you need to rest.” Oliver scolded, wrapping Wendy up in an embrace and kissing the top of her head as he looked the others over. “Wow, you all look like death warmed over.”

“Yeah, well, not all of us got to sleep through the fight,” Gajeel grumbled from where he sat leaning against a downed tree trunk.

Wendy took Oliver by the hand, leading him back to the others.

“Is it really over?” Rogue wondered out loud as he collapsed tiredly next to Sting. He set about removing his metal legs, seeking to ease some of the pain in his stumps after all the running he’d done.

“Yes, it’s finally over.” Atlas assured him. “I’m so proud of all you kids. You put up one hell of a fight.”

“I don’t know about that. If you and Gray hadn’t shown up when you did, we would’ve been screwed,” Sting said, “I know I sure as hell didn’t have much left.”

Gajeel grunted his agreement. His clothes were in tatters, his body covered in bruises despite being as hard as iron. “Tell me about it, I think I’m gonna sleep for a week once we get home.”

“I know you said there wasn’t time to explain before, but-” Wendy glanced over at Natsu and Gray again. “How is any of this possible?”

The dragon looked as tired as they all felt, making Gajeel think he wouldn’t answer, but after peering over at Natsu, Gray and Happy, he launched into an explanation.

“It was Igneel’s idea. When Gray didn’t set off the warning sigils we’d placed in the cave, he became determined to figure out why. He had this theory that dragon souls were being born in human bodies. That was how it all started.”

What followed was a story as shocking as it was tragic, and Gajeel had to admit his estimation of Gray improved greatly in the telling. He’d certainly seen how love made people do all sorts of crazy shit, but he would never have expected Gray to go that far, especially given how much he’d always hated dragons. It filled him with a strange sense of pride, like what he imagined Anna felt when she looked at all of them.

“So hang on, does that mean we have dragon souls too?” Rogue asked while pointing at himself and Sting.

“There’s a lot we still don’t know, but I think it’s likely, given that you’re soul bonded. As for the rest of you, it’s possible? Maybe that’s why some dragon slayers took to the enchantment better than others. If you really want to know, I can check all of you when we return.”

Gajeel let that idea sink in for a minute. It was certainly interesting to consider, but he doubted it changed anything for any of them.

The sound of heavy, unsteady steps alerted them to Gray’s approach. He tottered towards them with a sorrowful expression on his face. Once he reached them, he nudged Atlas.

“Natsu wants you.”

Atlas closed his eyes briefly and nodded. “How’s he doing?”

Gajeel knew the dragon well enough to know that he was really asking.

Does he blame me?

All eyes were on Gray as everyone waited for his response.

“He’s doing better,” Gray said, although his eyes never strayed from the ground. “Still a little shell-shocked, though.”

“What about you, how are you doing?”

Gajeel could see the concern in the hellfire dragon’s eyes and it made him wonder just how difficult this entire experience had been for Gray.

“I’m fine.”

Atlas frowned at the response, and for once he seemed to be at a loss for words. But he tried.

“We always knew he wouldn’t take it well. How could he?” Atlas nuzzled Gray’s head gently. “But as much as I hate to admit it, Igneel was right. We needed to do this. If we hadn’t, Acnologia would have killed them all. Remember that.”

“Yeah.” Gray said, although he didn’t sound very convincing. He watched Atlas walk away towards Natsu, the frown never leaving his face.

Gajeel noticed Sting watching Gray thoughtfully and got a bad feeling. Oh gods, he wasn’t dumb enough to bring that up, was he? Now of all times?! Rogue must have had the same idea because he grabbed on to Sting’s hand like a vise and shook his head.

It was Wendy who got up and approached Gray. She wrapped her arms around him as best she could and cried.

“Wendy?” Gray gawked at her. “What's wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m just so happy for you guys!” She smiled through her tears, “Now you can be together, just like before.”

“Well, not exactly like before.” Gray didn’t really feel like smiling, but he tried for her.

He was glad to see them. He’d missed all of them so much and had spent the last few years worrying about them. As he gazed from one to the other, he noticed all the changes with his newly enhanced eyesight, which he was slowly getting used to.

Gajeel looked to have changed the least, at least outwardly. His hair was a lot longer, but the biggest difference, as far as Gray could tell, was in the way he held himself. He exuded an even tougher air than he used to. Wendy looked nothing like the young girl she’d been when she’d left, although the war didn’t seem to have affected her sweet disposition any. Natsu had told him about Rogue’s legs, but it was still jarring to see it. And Sting, well, Sting looked like he had aged the most out of all of them.

“You all look so different.”

“We look different?” Gajeel scoffed, “That’s rich coming from the guy who turned into a dragon.”

“What kind of dragon are you?” Wendy asked. “You don’t look like any ice dragon I’ve ever seen.”

“We don’t really know. Atlas thinks I might be the equivalent of a hellfire dragon for ice dragons.” Gray shrugged his shoulders.

“That magic of yours sure came in handy,” Rogue chimed in, “Although it almost gave me a heart attack at first.”

“Sorry about that, I wasn’t sure how it would work.” Gray admitted, “To be honest, I was kind of winging it.”

“That was you winging it?” Sting finally spoke, peering at him in awe. “Damn! Those soldier dudes were badass.”

Gray nodded absently, becoming distracted by a scent that wafted towards him. It smelled familiar, but also different. He sniffed the air and searched for the source until determining it came from the red-haired woman that stood by Acnologia’s corpse, which had reverted to its human form after releasing all the souls he’d held captive.

“Is that Erza’s mother?”

“Yeah,” Wendy glanced over at the woman sadly.

“Is something wrong with her?”

“Not exactly, she began to dragonify, so she’s worried about how Erza and Anna will react to her appearance.”

“Dragonify? You mean like one of those renegades? Is it going to get worse?”

Wendy must have seen the distress on his face because she shook her head vehemently and immediately said, “No, no, nothing like that. Natsu removed her magic, so it won’t get any worse. But she has some red scales on parts of her body, kind of like Natsu did after-” Wendy’s voice drifted off and she looked away.

“Oh.” It was funny how his guilt over his past actions still lingered, but he chased it away. None of that mattered anymore, and he knew in his heart that neither Anna nor Erza would care one bit about what Irene looked like. They just wanted her back.

“I’ll go talk to her.”

He said that, but it was easier said than done, given the distance between them. Moving was getting easier, but he still felt so awkward. He made his way over to Irene slowly, gasping as she turned to look at him curiously.

She looked just like Erza!

Her hair was styled into two thick braids, and Gray couldn't help but notice that her outfit left just as little to the imagination as Erza’s requips. It was more ribbons than clothing, but that wasn’t even the most striking thing about her. That would have to be her face, or rather the large patch of torn skin that began just below her left eye and covered most of her cheek, revealing bright red scales underneath.

“You must be Gray, it’s nice to meet you finally. I have to say you look a little different from what I expected,” she said with a slight smile before turning back to the corpse and doing something that shocked him so much he forgot all about Erza and Anna.

Kneeling down, she closed Acnologia’s eyes and whispered, “May you find your way to peace.”

“How can you-” Gray stopped himself, realizing anything he said would only sound rude.

“How can I say that after everything he did?” Irene sighed. “I suppose it's because he wasn’t always like that. He was a good man once, before a dragon destroyed his village and killed all his loved ones. It changed him.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t agree with any of the things he did, and I would have killed him myself, given the chance. But even so,” she bowed her head. “I’d like to remember the good that once lived inside him.”

Gray sucked in a breath at her words, causing her to look up at him inquisitively. She stared at him for a moment, recognition suddenly dawning on her face.

“That’s right, Natsu mentioned something like that had happened to you as well. I’d like to say that the dragon slayer spell played a large part in what happened to him, but the truth is, Acnologia’s hatred was boundless. He fed it every chance he got, and in doing so, he created a literal monster.”

Her mouth curved up into a soft smile. “I’m happy to see you chose love instead.”

“I chose Natsu,” Gray said simply, not wanting to get caught up in a discussion of his past and how it may or may not compare to Acnologia’s.

He’d set his hatred aside once he’d finally understood how much pain it had caused Natsu over the years. Deliora was dead, and now Acnologia- who had devastated their lives in even more ways- was gone as well. Gray was content to let his hate die along with them. All he cared about now was being there for Natsu and helping him get through Igneel’s death.

He stepped closer to the body, curious to see what the man had looked like, but his nose instantly rebelled at the overwhelming stench of blood and guts the body exuded. He was about to leave when another more subtle scent caught his attention- a familiar one that was mixed in with the man's. It smelled of rain and those blue flowers that grew at the base of their mountain.

Juvia?

But what would Juvia be doing with Acnologia? He shook his head at the thought. That was ridiculous.

But was it?

Why else would her scent be on him? And what did they really know about Juvia’s mystery boyfriend? What was it she’d said?

Gray tried to remember her exact words, and he let out a groan as soon as he did.

Then Juvia met Logan, and he was very interested in Juvia and Juvia’s friends.

That sonofabitch!

He must have been using Juvia to spy on them all along!

A maelstrom of emotions engulfed him at the realization - rage at Acnologia for using Juvia when she was already vulnerable, guilt for telling her when Natsu was returning, and pity for the loneliness she felt that caused her to get into these situations.

Whatever the renegade had told Juvia to explain his absence, she would await his return.

And Gray knew exactly what it felt like to live in constant wait. Hoping and praying that the one you loved would come back to you. Standing in place while everyone around you went on with their lives. He couldn’t just sit back and let that happen to her. Not when he knew damn well “Logan” was never coming back.

He wanted to scream in frustration, knowing Natsu was holding on by a thin thread as it was. But as much as he loathed the idea, he knew what he was going to have to do, and just how much it was going to piss everyone off.

“Is something wrong?” Irene peered at him with concern.

Gray could only look back at where the slayers were sitting, and past them to where the red dragons were talking to Natsu.

Fuck my life...

0-0

When Erza woke up that morning, she’d barely been able to contain her excitement. After so many years spent worrying about her mother and childhood friends, her wait was finally over.

Lyon had teased her as they’d gotten ready, but he’d taken her to her favorite bakery for breakfast and then they’d gone for a walk around town before work. It was a beautiful day, with nary a cloud in the sky. A soft breeze played with their hair and clothes as she chatted about the welcome home party she wanted to throw for their family and friends.

As excited as she was, it took her a few minutes to realize Lyon had gone quiet, even longer to understand why.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry!”

“You’re fine.” Lyon chuckled, squeezing her hand. “I love to see you like this, and I am excited, too. I’m just feeling a little conflicted. It makes me glad to know Gray is happy. The gods know he deserves to be, but he’s my little brother and it makes me sad when I realize he won’t be a part of these things anymore.”

“I’m sure we’ll still see him.” Erza rested her head on Lyon’s shoulder, smiling when she felt him wrap his arm around her waist. “Honestly, the idea of those two being dragons is terrifying.”

“And just think, you won’t be able to keep them in check anymore,” Lyon said.

Erza stopped in her tracks. Oh gods, Lyon was right! She’d been the only one able to keep those two under control. Who was going to do that now? How much destruction would they be capable of during one of their squabbles now that they were both dragons?

“Relax, I was joking!” Lyon laughed, “They’ll be fine.”

Erza wasn’t as sure of that. She knew that while it would make Natsu happy to have Gray at long last, it would also devastate him to lose his father. She wished, not for the first time, that Natsu would have confided in her over the years. That she could have helped him through some of the things he’d held inside for so long. And more than anything, she hoped that he’d come see her so she could make him understand how much she still loved him.

But maybe it was time to take matters into her own hands. Now that everyone was coming home, she was done with worrying and waiting. If he wouldn’t come to her, then she would just have to go to him.

0-0

“Watch out!” Sting yelled as Gray came within a few inches of colliding with Happy.

Again.

“I’m doing my best.”

Sting held on to one of Gray’s fin spikes for dear life, even though it made him feel like his body was going to turn into a popsicle. He didn’t understand how Irene could remain so calm, and he honestly wished she’d stop interrogating Gray about Lyon so that he might at least focus more on his flying, which sucked royally.

To be fair, the guy had only been a dragon for a couple of hours, but still. Sting had lost count of how many times they’d almost crashed or suddenly lost altitude, and while Gray was apologetic, it did nothing to improve the feeling of impending doom Sting felt.

Although he knew a lot of that had more to do with the fact that they’d be home soon. As much as he’d tried to prepare himself mentally for any outcome, he still dreaded the disappointment he was sure to see on Anna’s face once she learned what he’d done. And he could only imagine how furious Erza and the other guards would be.

Sting knew he deserved all of it. After all, he’d put everyone in danger. He didn’t even want to consider what might have happened if Natsu hadn’t been there to fight Acnologia.

His biggest fear, though, was that the Talos village elders would decide to exile him. If that happened, he didn’t know what he’d do. He didn’t want to take Rogue away from his home, but he also knew his mate would refuse to stay without him.

Please, please let them forgive me. I will do anything…

Rogue’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Everything’s going to be fine.

He turned his head to glance at his mate, who along with Gajeel rode atop Natsu, and flashed him a sheepish smile.

How did you know?

I don’t have to read your mind to know what you’re thinking. I know you… They’ll understand.

I hope you’re right.

I know I am. Have faith in them.

He could feel Rogue’s love pouring into him and it calmed him down some, right until Gray dropped a few hundred feet all at once. It was terrifying enough that Irene finally stopped with her questions.

“Gray!”

“Sorry! I’ve never flown holding anything before.”

“Yeah, well, no one asked you to bring him along.” Sting snapped, thinking back to the tense fight that had ensued when Gray had made his bizarre request to bring Acnologia’s body back with them.

All of them had been against it, but no one as much as Atlas. The fighting had only ended when Natsu came out in Gray’s defense. No one was about to argue with him in his state.

Sting sighed in defeat. Really, who was he to judge about doing the wrong thing for what felt like the right reasons?

“I’m sorry. I get what you’re trying to do, and it’s nice and all, but it burns me up that we’re bringing him home like some kind of war hero.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” Gray hissed. “I just want Juvia to move on.”

“I know. But have you given any thought to how she’s going to feel when she realizes she led him straight to us.”

“It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know!”

“Do you really think that’s going to make one bit of difference to her?”

“It doesn’t matter. What’s past is past and nothing is going to change it.” Irene joined the conversation, peering back at Sting with a knowing look. “If this Juvia feels guilty, she’ll just have to work through it while she grieves. Just like everyone else.”

“That wasn’t exactly subtle, Irene.” Sting grumbled.

“Wasn’t trying to be, dear.”

“Ugh, I don’t know if I can handle having two Erzas around again.”

“Oh Sting,” Irene chuckled, “You never could.”

“We’ll land in front of the village gates,” Natsu announced, and the dragons grunted their assent.

All but one.

“Hey, Gray?” Sting called out, trying not to let his sudden panic show in his voice.

“Hmmm?”

“You do know how to land, right?”

“Sort of?” Gray’s nervous chuckle in no way made him feel any better.

Oh well, he’d lived a good life. At least he got to see that fucker die before he bit it.

“I’m not worried at all,” Irene said as she patted Gray’s neck. “And I have to say if your brother is half the man you are - well, uhm dragon, I guess - then Erza is a very lucky girl.”

“He’s better,” Gray said. “I’d have never gotten this far if it hadn’t been for him. But I will forever deny having said that.”

Irene laughed. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“So, uhm, Wendy mentioned you were nervous about Anna and Erza seeing your scales.”

“I was, but almost dying earlier made me realize how silly I was being. I think everything will be okay.”

“Good, because I saw them last night, and they were really excited to see you.”

Sting tuned them out, paying more attention to their surroundings. It had been quite a while since he’d been home, but he recognized their mountains up ahead. They would be at the village in the next few minutes. He knew he was right when he felt Gray tense beneath him and Natsu appeared next to them.

Not a word passed between them, but as Gray made adjustments, Sting knew that Natsu was talking to him through their bond.

He reached out to Rogue through their own bond.

Nice knowing you!

Stop being so dramatic, he’s doing fine.

Sure, for someone who learned to fly in the astral realm, whatever the heck that is.

The sound of Rogue’s laughter was exactly what he needed to hear to relax.

I love you.

I love you too, dork. Might want to hold on now.

In the end, Gray mostly glided down, with Atlas and Natsu on either side of him. It wasn’t a bad landing overall. There had been plenty worse during the war, but Sting still felt the need to kiss the ground after he jumped down.

The village gates stood in front of him, looking slightly different from what he remembered, but still familiar.

Behind him, he could hear everyone else dismounting, as Natsu teased Gray about his flying skills while Happy and Atlas laughed along.

The rest of the dragon slayers joined him in staring at the doors, None of them making any effort to enter. Then Wendy grabbed onto his left hand, while Rogue took his right. One by one, they linked hands and squeezed tightly before taking that first step together.

They were home at last.

0-0

Erza didn’t know how it was possible, but this day felt longer than all the years she’d waited put together.

She’d managed to keep her good mood for most of the morning, but as the hours passed and there was no sign of the dragon slayers, she began to worry. Her mind filled with all sorts of worst-case scenarios, and no matter how hard she tried to dismiss each and every one as ridiculous, another would rear its ugly head to replace it.

She attacked her work with vigor, hoping to distract herself from her thoughts, and that worked for a time, until she ran out of things to do. Lunchtime came and went, but she remained in her office, too worried to be in the least bit hungry.

Where the hell were they? Why was it taking so long?

That sense that something was wrong was stronger than ever. But what could she do? She didn’t know what direction they were coming from, so even if she sent some guards to investigate, what would she tell them? Well, she could always-

A knock on her door interrupted her planning. She looked up from her desk to see Juvia standing at her door.

“Is Erza okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she lied, plastering a smile on her face. “How can I help you, Juvia?”

“Lyon was called away to deal with a disturbance in town. He asked Juvia to make sure Erza ate lunch.”

“Lunch?” As riled up as she was, the idea of food was unappetizing, so she tried to placate Juvia with another lie. “Oh, yes, thank you. I’ll be sure to grab something later.”

Juvia crossed her arms in front of her chest, and studied her, “Lyon said Erza would say that, and to not take no for an answer.”

“Did he now?” Erza made no attempt to hide her irritation. She’d never enjoyed being babied or handled. It was one of the quickest ways to ensure her wrath.

Just who did Lyon think he was, anyway? She’d taken care of herself just fine for years before meeting him. If he thought he could just come in and-

“Lyon also said to tell Erza he’d asked the cook to make strawberry cake for dessert today.”

Strawberry cake?!

She wanted to laugh at Lyon’s blatant attempt to manipulate her. Like she was so simple that she’d submit to his whims just because he’d asked the cook to make her favorite dessert.

It was just cake.

Sweet, moist, delicious cake with frosting and luscious fresh strawberries on top…

She tried to resist the temptation, but her stomach had already broken rank, grumbling its opinion on the matter, and whether she meant to or not, she was already walking towards Juvia.

“I suppose a quick break for lunch would be fine.” Erza ignored Juvia’s knowing smirk as she fell in step beside her.

“Erza’s friends will be home soon.” Juvia said, putting her arm around Erza’s shoulders and giving her a side hug. “Juvia just knows it!”

“Let’s hope so.”

The dining room was mostly empty, as everyone had already eaten. Lyon was true to his word. There was indeed a strawberry cake, and even better, the cook had saved two slices for her.

“Mind if I join you girls?”

Erza looked up from her dessert long enough to nod at Anna.

“I thought you’d be in your office,” Anna smiled.

“Can Juvia get Anna anything?”

“No, thank you. I was just going crazy waiting at the orphanage, so Andrius offered to watch the kids for a few hours.”

“Didn’t you get any sleep?” Erza asked, noticing the dark circles under Anna’s eyes.

“Not really, I started worrying about Gray, and that got me thinking about Igneel and Porly, which then led me straight to Natsu.” Anna sighed. “That poor boy, I can’t even begin to imagine how he’ll take it.”

“Yes, I thought about him this morning as well.”

“Why is Anna worried about Gray?” Juvia peered at Anna with obvious alarm. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, uhm, I-” Anna bit her lip, clearly not knowing how to respond to Juvia’s question.

Erza wasn’t doing much better. How much could she tell her? When he’d resigned a few days earlier, Gray had told everyone he and Natsu were moving away. She should have realized that meant he had no intention of telling Juvia about his actual plans.

“Anna worries about all of us. She can’t help it. After all, she raised most of us.” Erza tried to defuse the situation by acting purposefully obtuse. She cringed internally at her words, knowing how lame they sounded, but couldn’t come up with anything better.

“Yes, but it sounded like it was more than that.” Juvia insisted.

One of the younger guards, a woman by the name of Alyssa, chose that moment to run into the dining room, slamming into a table and cursing out in pain. All three of them winced in sympathy, but before Erza could ask her if she was alright, the girl yelled out.

“CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN!”

“There’s no need to yell, Alyssa. I’m right here. What is it? Do you have something to report?” Erza kept her composure, but she was tense. Could this be what she’d been waiting for?

“IT’S DRAGONS, MA’AM!”

“Dragons?” Erza jumped out of her chair, quickly followed by Anna and Juvia. “Where, how many?”

“FOUR DRAGONS, MA’AM, HEADED TOWARDS THE TOWN FROM THE NORTH.”

“Do you know if they were red dragons?”

“YES, MA’AM, THERE WERE-”

Erza didn't know what else Alyssa might have said because she ran out of the dining room as fast as she could. If they were red dragons, it had to be them!

She sprinted down the long hallway until she reached the doors, stopping only long enough to pull them open. She heard others running behind her and hoped the door didn’t hit them when she raced outside.

However long it had taken Alyssa to find her was enough time for the dragons to have landed in the grassy area in front of the village gates. Erza could see them clearly now. There were indeed four dragons, three red ones and a blue one with wings and horns made of ice that had to be Gray.

However, she filed that away for later, for as majestic as the dragons were, they were nothing to her when compared to the individuals who stood in a line in front of them. There was one among them Erza didn’t recognize, but once again, the details meant little to her at the moment.

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched them take a step forward together.

“You’re home,” she whispered.

And then, as if a spell had broken once she’d said the words, she yelled them out with all her might, wanting everyone to hear the joy that was in her heart.

“YOU’RE HOME!”

She lunged at them, not paying any attention to which one of them she tackled. Not that it mattered, as they all fell to the ground in a chorus of grunts and laughing complaints.

“Well, it’s nice to see you’re as impulsive as ever.” The sound of her mother’s laughter left her reeling, and she pushed herself up to search for her, taking a moment to see who was underneath her.

She could feel the blood rushing to her face as, to her dismay, she’d landed on the one person she didn’t know. She scrambled to get off him, and in her haste, landed back on the grass. “Oh gods, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t even worry about it.” the man said, waving at her with an amused grin. “I’m Oliver, by the way. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Erza nodded at him, too flustered to say anything else. There was a light tap on her shoulder and she looked up to see her mother offering her a hand up.

She grabbed hold of it and found herself pulled into a familiar embrace.

“I missed you so much,” Erza cried, holding her mother close.

“I missed you too.” Irene ran her fingers lightly through Erza’s hair, playing with it as she’d done when Erza was a child. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, sweetheart.”

They separated, and Erza got her first good look at her mother. It horrified her to see a patch of red dragon scales on her cheek, not because it marred her beauty, but because of what it could mean.

“Mother, those scales- are you?”

“Turning into a dragon? No.” Irene assured her. “I used a lot of dragon magic during the war, but Natsu removed the dragon slayer enchantment. It won’t get any worse.”

“If it bothers you, Atlas said he could create some sort of illusion spell-”

“No, you’re perfect!” Erza was so relieved to learn she wouldn’t lose her mother again that she crushed her to her chest in a violent hug.

“I’m not going anywhere, Erza. I promise.” Irene said once she’d regained use of her lungs.

All around them there were sounds of people laughing and yelling greetings and as much as she wanted to hold on to her mother for a little longer, she knew that there was someone else who had been awaiting her return just as anxiously.

“There you are!��

She turned at the sound of Lyon’s voice and saw him hurrying towards her, looking entirely out of breath. “I came as soon as I heard. Did you see your mom yet?”

“Indeed, she did,” Irene answered, moving to stand next to Erza and stopping Lyon in his tracks.

He gawked at her for a moment, seeming uncertain of what to do next, but Erza rescued him. She stepped forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him to her side.

She felt a little anxious, remembering how intimidating her mother could be and knowing how easily flustered Lyon could get when he was nervous.

She really wanted him to make a good first impression.

“Mother, I’d like you to meet Lyon Vastia.”

Erza wanted to tell her everything wonderful about Lyon, but to her horror, she got tongue tied instead.

“I’m pleased to finally meet you,” Lyon said, bowing his head briefly in a gesture of respect before offering his hand. “I’m Erza’s husband,”

Erza watched her mother’s face nervously. It stunned her when Irene merely shook his hand with an amused smile. “The pleasure is all mine. A little dragon told me all about you on the way here.”

“A dragon?” Lyon sounded puzzled, and Erza could almost work out the second he figured out Irene was referring to Gray.

“You mean it really worked?”

“See for yourself,” Irene said, pointing at the blue dragon that Erza had noticed earlier. It stood some distance away from the crowd of people, along with the red dragon that had become their town’s protector.

The dragon they now knew was Natsu.

Erza tore her eyes away from the dragons to focus back on her mother, and she saw Lyon do the same, but Irene waved them away.

“Go to them, I’m not sure how much longer they’ll stick around.”

“Are you sure?” Erza hedged.

“Yes, we’ll talk more later. There’s someone else I need to say hello to. Assuming the kids let me anywhere near her, that is.” Irene said with a laugh.

It didn’t take long for Erza to sight Anna surrounded by Sting, Rogue, Wendy and even Gajeel. All of them were talking at once while Anna laughed at them and asked them to slow down.

It reminded Erza so much of their younger years, though back then she and Natsu would have been in there too, demanding their own slice of attention.

“She’s even more exquisite than I remember,” Irene mused.

“Aren’t you going to go to her?”

“In a bit, let them have their moment. I’ll have her to myself soon enough.”

She shooed them away, turning to greet one of the village elders.

0-0

“That really is him, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’d know that resting bitchface anywhere.”

“And I suppose yours is better?” Erza taunted, but Lyon only snorted in reply.

It didn’t take them long to reach the dragons. Lyon wasn’t all that surprised by Gray’s appearance, having seen the ice sculpture his brother had molded weeks earlier. Although even that paled compared to the real thing.

Lyon found himself mesmerized by the ice that made up Gray’s wings, horns, talons, and the tip of his tail. It was flawless and he couldn’t help but wonder what creations made of it would look like. But he shifted his focus to Erza as she slowly approached Natsu.

He could see the uncertainty on her face, and he couldn’t blame her. He knew how much she loved and missed Natsu. There was a lot of guilt mixed into her feelings as well, but he knew she’d face it as she did everything else.

Natsu relaxed slightly in their presence, but his expression remained guarded and he inched closer to Gray.

“Hello, Natsu,” Erza said, reaching her hand out tentatively. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Hey Erza,” Natsu leaned into her hand for a moment, allowing her to pet his snout.

“I know this isn’t the time for long conversations, but,” Erza touched her hand to her heart. “I’d like to talk with you sometime, if that’s alright.”

Lyon watched with bated breath, waiting for Natsu’s response just as much as Erza.

“He wants to talk to her,” Gray told him. “He was just afraid of how she’d react. Now that he’s seen she’s not angry or scared of him, I think they’ll be fine.”

“Well, that’s good. I know she’s missed him terribly.” Lyon said, switching his attention to his brother. “I want to apologize to him for our last meeting as well, but I doubt he’d want to hear that now.”

“Probably not.” Gray agreed, “He’s been doing a little better, but I want to get him home.”

“I can hear you, you know.” Natsu complained, sounding much more like his usual self than Lyon had expected. He refrained from responding with one of his usual put downs, regardless.

Instead, he studied Gray and Natsu closely, pleased to see they already radiated that same bubble he’d always noticed around them. He was sure whatever happened next, wherever they went, they’d be alright. And that was all he’d ever wanted for them.

“Well then, we won’t keep you, there will be plenty of time to talk later.” Lyon backed away and tripped over something. He looked down at it with a puzzled expression.

“Just one thing before you go, though. What’s with the corpsicle?”

“Oh crap, I almost forgot about him.” Gray groaned. “That’s Acnologia. He ambushed them some miles from here. Atlas and I barely got there in time to help finish him.”

“You were in a fight already?!” Lyon sputtered.

“So that’s what happened,” Erza said, “I was wondering why Sting and the others looked like they’d been in a fight.”

“How can you sound so calm?!” Lyon protested, peering at Gray more closely in search of injuries.

“Don’t be such a worrywart. I’m fine. You realize I’m a dragon now, right? Plus, all of us fought him together.”

Lyon wanted to ask more about what had happened, remembering how terrifying that black dragon had been, but quickly realized it was better for his sanity if he didn’t.

“You’re trying to tell me that man is the black dragon that attacked the village?” Lyon examined the body again, feeling decidedly skeptical about what he was being told, and wondering what on Earthland would have possessed them to bring the corpse back here.

“Yeah, he was one of the renegade dragon slayers. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing he was.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I think he might also be Juvia’s mysterious boyfriend. Her scent is mixed up with his.”

“Her scent? Okay, first of all, that’s creepy. How do you even know what she smells like?”

“I just do. I know what you smell like too.” Gray replied crossly, “Would you like me to describe it?”

“Oh no, poor Juvia! She was crazy about him.” Erza interjected, trying to keep them from derailing into their usual pointless bickering.

Lyon searched for any sign of the water mage and found her by the village entrance, watching along with a few of the newer guards.

This was going to break her heart.

“I had to bring him back once I caught her scent on him.”

Lyon immediately understood what his brother was getting at. Gray had wanted to shield Juvia from suffering through what he’d felt while Natsu was off fighting, even if it hurt her.

Erza also looked in Juvia’s direction and sighed. “Just get out of here. We’ll deal with it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you’d never planned on telling her about any of this,” Erza gestured at Gray’s body. “Besides, if he really was her boyfriend-”

“Well, that’s a lot to handle already.”

It took Lyon a moment to grasp everything Erza hadn’t said, and he couldn’t agree more with her assessment. He remembered Juvia joyously telling him about how Logan was so interested in everything to do with her, especially her friends.

“Off you go,” Lyon made a shooing gesture. “We’ve got this.”

“Won’t she know about the dragon thing, anyway?”

“No, the slayers have always kept any information about the dragons to themselves.” Erza reminded him, “Even I knew very little, and I grew up with them. I see no reason for that to change, especially now that the dragons want to be forgotten.”

Gray peered at Natsu, who nodded his agreement with Erza.

“I’ll leave it to you then,” Gray said. “Can you tell her- can you tell her I’m sorry?”

“Sure.”

“Natsu,” Erza implored, “Don’t be afraid to call for us if you need anything. We’re still your family.”

Natsu’s expressions softened slightly, and he offered a half smile in response.

They watched the two dragons fly off, Lyon snickering when he saw how sloppy Gray’s flying looked compared to Natsu.

Maybe he should hold off on getting that ride.

His thoughts turned to Juvia. He’d always been suspicious about the man’s refusal to cross the lake to come see her, but she’d seemed so happy. And he’d been glad that she’d finally put her obsession with Gray behind her, so he’d turned a blind eye. And that had almost proved fatal to their friends.

He intended to be a better friend to her while she mourned.

0-0

While they had flown the short distance home, Gray had worried about how Natsu would react to seeing the remnants of the spell, but Atlas had obviously expected that. He’d already removed all vestiges of it from sight.

He’d also dispelled all the furniture in their room save for the bed, which was now large enough to fit both of them comfortably. Natsu’s scarf lay folded neatly on top of it. Gray couldn’t tell if the temperature spell had been removed, as the cave’s heat didn’t seem to bother him anymore.

He was grateful for Atlas' actions, but it was also a tad disconcerting. It felt like his previous life had been erased, and he didn’t know how to feel about that. Natsu hadn’t said a word since they’d left and that worried him a bit as well, but he’d left it alone knowing he shouldn’t expect anything different. He had no idea how many memories Natsu had of Igneel in this cave, but Gray was sure he was thinking about all of them.

He could still recall how he’d felt immediately after Deliora had killed his parents, and while he knew Natsu had grieved for his mother, he’d never really known her. This type of grief was different. It would take time to heal, but that wasn’t a huge deal. After all, time was something they now had plenty of.

Natsu made no remark about their room being different, just walked in and curled up on the bed, with his head resting on the scarf. It would have been adorable if it wasn’t for the sadness in his eyes.

Lie with me?

It had been a long, emotionally draining day, and Gray had to admit he was exhausted as well.

Always.

Gray joined his husband on their bed, smiling happily when he felt Natsu coil their tails together. He cuddled him, murmuring sweet nothings and reveling in how perfectly they fit together. They soon fell into a deep sleep.

0-0

Gray woke before Natsu and, deciding to let him sleep a while longer, he ventured out of their room in search of food. Hearing an unfamiliar noise, he tracked it down to a room he’d never entered before. Inside it, Sting was packing up his and Rogue’s belongings into boxes.

“You guys are moving out?”

“Oh, hey man, you’re finally up.” Sting said, looking up from the box he was working on. “Yeah, it’d be kind of uncomfortable for Rogue to make the trek every day, unless he went, you know, shadow form.”

“Oh, right. I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Sting waved away his apology. “Anyway, we found an apartment to rent in town, close to that bakery Rogue likes and to the Guard Headquarters. We moved in a couple of days ago.”

“Wait, days? How long were we out?”

“About three days. It's been raining, so I hadn’t been able to grab our stuff yet.”

Three days?!

Gray knew they’d been tired, but damn. “Well, I guess that explains why I’m starving.”

Sting laughed, “You’d better get used to it, you have a dragon’s stomach now.”

“I have a dragon’s everything now,” Gray pointed out smugly.

“Including their sense of humor, I see.” Sting rolled his eyes.

“So what else did we miss while we slept?” Gray asked, leaning against the cave wall.

“Oh plenty. Let’s see,” Sting began counting off on his fingers. “Anna was reinstated as a Village Elder, and she and Irene got engaged. Gajeel and Wendy also rented apartments in town, they’re right next to each other though, so Oliver’s screwed. Speaking of which, he took over your spot in the Guard and Erza moved him into your old apartment.”

“That’s fine, it’s not like I'm ever going to use it again. Did everyone else go back?”

“Most of us did. Rogue is going to help Erza part-time while he figures out what he wants to do. Wendy will help out in emergencies, but she’s mostly going to work at the orphanage with Anna and continue to train as a healer. Talos hasn’t had a powerful healer since Natsu’s mom died.”

“Hey, uhm, how is he?” Sting was still looking at his hands when he asked, but Gray could hear the worry in his voice.

“He’s still asleep. He didn’t say much when we got back.”

“I’m not all that surprised by that. He’d already run himself ragged even before we left. Plus, you know- everything. He must’ve been exhausted.”

“He was.”

It touched Gray to know that Sting still cared for Natsu, but he didn’t like discussing his mate with him. It was awkward, and he didn’t want to get caught in the middle of their fight. He’d already tried to get Natsu to talk to Sting before he’d left, and that was as far as he was willing to go. This was something they’d have to sort out for themselves.

So he tried to change the subject.

“Do you happen to know how Juvia’s doing?”

“Well, like I said, it rained nonstop for the past couple of days, but the sun came out today, so I guess she must be doing better. You should ask Irene or Erza. I heard they talked to her.”

That was something, at least, although he wasn’t sure if learning more about who Logan was would help. Gray just hoped that whoever she set her sights on next would be someone more deserving of her affections.

He wondered what they’d done with Acnologia’s body. He knew Atlas had wanted to incinerate it personally, he’d made that much painfully clear during their fight.

“Do you think we could talk for a minute?”

Gray blinked at him blankly. “I thought we were talking.”

“Yes, no, I mean talk about what happened. You know, what I did.”

To his credit, Sting didn’t look away, even though he was obviously uncomfortable.

“Sting, you don’t have to.” Gray tried to wave him away. He’d already forgiven him.

Now that everything was over, he didn’t see the need to carry a grudge. And if he was being honest, if it had been Natsu who had been in danger, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to do anything different.

“Please, I need to apologize to you.” Sting begged, “I understand Natsu may never be able to forgive me, but I feel so terrible about how I fucked up your lives. Gods, and after I gave you that if you hurt him speech, too.”

“I honestly don’t think that there was anything else you could have done, and I know Natsu understands that too. If you need to hear it, I’ll be happy to say it. I forgive you. And who knows, maybe with time Natsu will too. But even if he never does, you need to stop torturing yourself and just move on from this whole fucking mess.”

“I know, I’m working on it. I already told Erza and the Elders about what I did.”

Gray sucked in a breath, “Oof, how did that go?”

“About as badly as I’d expected. The Elders wanted to kick me out of town, but Irene and Erza came out in my defense. So, I’m not the most popular guy in town right now, and I’ll be pulling the crappiest job details indefinitely, but I can stay and that’s all I could have hoped for.”

“That’s great.” Gray gave Sting a knowing glance. “This mate stuff is brutal, huh?”

“But it’s worth it.”

Gray couldn’t agree more.

“I’m gonna go figure out something to eat before you start looking edible.”

“Oh, one last thing!” Sting snapped his fingers. “The town is throwing a big celebration tomorrow night, and they wanted to invite the dragons to take part.”

“I’ll let them know.” Gray said, and with a wave he left to check on Natsu, smiling at Sting’s whispered Thank you.

It felt good to let it all go.

0-0

Rogue looked up as Sting entered their apartment, looking sweaty and disheveled and carrying far too many boxes. He got up to help, but Sting shook his head, holding the door open for someone Rogue couldn’t see as they were behind a stack of boxes.

It turned out to be Oliver, looking just as flushed as Sting. He uttered a cryptic ‘Don’t forget what you promised’ to Sting before waving goodbye to Rogue and heading out.

“What was that about?”

“Oh,” Sting chuckled nervously, “I sort of bribed him to help with the promise of distracting Gajeel so that he could spend some time with Wendy without him hovering. So I guess we’ll be having him over soon.”

He put the boxes down and collapsed on their sofa, and Rogue hurried to bring him a glass of cold water.

“You got the fridge working?”

“No, Lyon stopped by earlier and molded an enormous block of ice to keep in there for now.”

“This place is a shithole,” Sting sighed.

“It’s not so bad, and it’s close to the bakery,” Rogue reminded him.

“I’m sorry, love. It’s all my fault that no one would rent to us. I’m sure this place is nowhere near where you imagined us living.”

“Sting,” Rogue said, in fond exasperation. “We’ve lived in a cave for longer than I can remember. We’ve either slept on the ground or on magical furniture designed by a dragon who had zero concept of human comfort. This is fantastic. Besides, I told Erza how much the guy was charging us and I’ve never seen her leave a room so fast. I expect our rent will go down shortly.”

Sting gaped at him and then erupted into a fit of giggles, “Well, when you put it that way.”

“There is only one thing I require anywhere I live, and this place has it in spades.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Rogue didn’t know if Sting was being purposefully dense or not, but considering how rough the last couple of days had been for him, he didn’t mind boosting his ego a little.

“You, stupid. You’re all I need to be happy.”

“And wine?”

Rogue snorted, “Yes, you and wine. Speaking of which, Lyon dropped off a few bottles as a housewarming present when he came by. Would you like some?”

“Fuck, yeah!”

Rogue opened the fridge and pulled a bottle out quickly, not wanting to let too much warm air in. He didn’t bother with any cups, just removed the cork and brought the bottle back to the sofa with him.

Sting had already shifted on the sofa so he was lying on it, his legs slightly spread so Rogue could lie between them. He handed the bottle over while he got comfortable. Sting took a swig and handed it back.

“This is good.”

Rogue agreed once he’d tasted it, although given how little wine he’d been able to get his hands on since they’d left, he wouldn’t have been all that picky about quality.

Lyon, however, had always had excellent taste. Something Rogue had learned during nights spent sneaking drinks in the barracks while riding out some punishment or another.

It became a tradition of sorts for them, and it was one he hoped they could pick back up again, minus the punishments, of course.

Sting ran his fingers through Rogue’s hair, tugging on it and massaging his scalp as they continued to pass the bottle back and forth. It felt wonderful and the combination of that and the wine were making him feel incredibly relaxed.

“You know, it feels kind of strange.”

“What does?” Rogue murmured.

“Just lying here like this,” Sting said. “Not having to worry about being attacked, ambushed, or even seen. I like it.”

“Hmm, I do too. We can do anything we want now. Gives me a few ideas.”

“Oh yeah? Any in particular?”

Rogue heard Sting put the bottle down on the floor and grinned. He turned until he was facing his mate and leaned in for a kiss, sucking gently on Sting’s bottom lip before delving inside his parted lips.

Sting wrapped his arms around Rogue’s waist, pulling their bodies closer as they kissed.

“Hmm, I like that idea.” he said, chasing Rogue’s mouth as he pulled back to peer down at him mischievously.

“Yeah? Well, I’ve got plenty more,” Rogue assured him. “And a lifetime to try them out.”

“I’ll be right here with you.” Sting promised solemnly, pulling Rogue back down for a kiss of his own.

0-0

Natsu stood at the entrance to Igneel’s room.

Atlas had told him his father had left him a letter, but he hadn’t worked up the courage to read it until now. He could see the long parchment on the desk, along with the writing supplies his father had favored. Natsu had so many memories of Igneel in this room, working away on a spell or writing messages for the dragons to take with them to the war front.

Knowing he’d never see him there again, well, it was crushing, but he couldn’t hide from it any longer.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” Atlas wandered out of his room and eyed him with concern.

“No,” Natsu said, after giving it some thought. “This is something I need to do by myself.”

“Alright, but I��m right next door if you need me.”

Natsu knew that both Atlas and Gray were walking on eggshells around him at the moment, both worried about how he felt about them going along with Igneel’s plan and it saddened him to see it. He wasn’t quite feeling like himself, that much was true, but he loved both of them deeply and he knew that anything they might have done, it had been for his sake. And how could he really fault them for that?

To be honest, he wasn’t sure what he was hoping to find in that letter, but it felt like he was drowning in his loss and he wanted to find the strength to move forward.

And Igneel had always been good at giving him direction.

That wasn’t fair, though. At some point, he had to grow up and decide his own path, beginning with easing the minds of those he held dearest.

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Natsu said, “Although I wish you had told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Atlas’ fire dimmed, reflecting his mood, and he moved to enter his room.

“Hey,” Natsu called out, suddenly worried by how meekly Atlas had been acting. “You’re not planning on doing anything stupid, are you?”

“Always, kid. But I have no plans to go anywhere, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re stuck with me.”

Atlas’ smile was but a shadow of his usual one, but it heartened Natsu to see it.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Natsu grumbled, hugging his uncle as hard as he could, just to feel him against him.

Atlas hugged back just as hard until finally pulling away and gently shoving Natsu towards the entrance. “Get in there, already.”

Natsu took one step, then another, and everywhere he looked, the ghosts of his memories comforted him with their warmth.

0-0

“I thought I’d find you here.” Gray huffed, catching his breath from having climbed up the mountain.

“Did you seriously just climb up the mountain?” Natsu gawked at him. “Why didn’t you just fly?”

“Cause I suck.”

To his chagrin, Natsu didn’t disagree with him, but he laughed out loud and that made Gray’s hardship worth it.

Natsu patted the ground next to him invitingly. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

Gray plopped next to his mate and gazed up at the sky. It was indeed beautiful to watch as the sun’s last rays mingled with the stars. But he was more concerned with Natsu and he studied him, trying to figure out what was going on. He didn’t feel any of the sadness that had been present earlier.

“Are you okay? You’re acting-” Gray struggled to find a word that wouldn’t be misconstrued.

“I take it Atlas told you I read the letter?”

“Yeah. Do you want to talk about it?”

Natsu nodded, staring off at the sky as he collected his thoughts.

“He told me about everything. Your struggles in the astral realm, how you and Atlas both fought with your decisions, and all the guilt he felt over his mistakes.”

“There was so much I didn’t know about him, and some of it hurt because I never understood how truly lonely he felt over the years. But most of all, what I saw in that letter was how much he loved me and how determined he was that I have the life that he only got the barest glimpses of.”

“And that’s what I want too. I want to live that life with you.”

Natsu rested his head on Gray’s shoulder. “I love you, Princess.”

“I still can’t believe you gave up everything to be with me. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”

“It wasn’t as hard as you might think.” Gray admitted, and it was true. Once he’d let go of his fears, it had been a simple decision to make. “I love you too, Natsu. So much it scares me sometimes. If there was any chance we could be together like this, I had to take it. I was just worried you’d hate me for it.”

“I could never hate you. You’ve always been everything to me.” Natsu lowered his head. “That’s why I could never really let you go, even when I knew it was what was best for you.”

Gray wasn’t having that. He lifted Natsu’s head so that he could look into his eyes, and see how serious he was. “And now, you’ll never have to.”

Natsu frowned, looking uncomfortable with his next words. “You know we can’t stay here forever, right? We’ll have to move to the island.”

“Is that what you’re worried about? I already figured as much, dummy.”

“We can come visit during the summer solstice, though. I’ll have to leave the island anyway.”

Now that he hadn’t counted on, and it pleased him to learn he’d get to see his friends at least once a year.

“Hey, do you think I’ll change too?”

“We won’t know until then, but it could happen.” Natsu grinned just thinking about it. “That'd be pretty fun. But we’ll definitely need to work on your flying just in case you don’t. That would be a pretty pathetic way for me to die.”

“Jerk,” Gray grumbled at Natsu’s teasing. “You know, I seem to remember you were pretty ticklish as a human, I wonder…”

He pounced, attempting to catch Natsu off guard.

Dragons, apparently, weren’t ticklish at all, but Gray didn’t care because soon they were wrestling around, nipping and scratching as they each sought to pin the other down. It was more difficult than he expected, but that was probably because neither one of them could seem to stop laughing.

And all Gray could think about, besides gaining the upper hand, was just how much he’d missed this. Playing together and just having fun, without the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders. For the first time since Natsu had left him to go fight, he finally felt like everything was going to turn out alright.

They continued until they were both laid on their backs, spent and out of breath.

“I’m so going to get you next time, Flame Brain.” Gray panted, repeating a taunt as familiar as it was empty.

“In your dreams, Ice Princess.” Natsu said with his usual fanged grin.

Gray rolled onto his belly, his attention caught by a movement in the sky. “Hey, is that a shooting star? Hurry, make a wish.”

“I have nothing left to wish for.” Natsu said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he righted himself and gazed at Gray with awe.

Stupid romantic dragon!

He’d never tire of the way Natsu always knew exactly what to say to make him feel all flustered.

Gray draped his body over Natsu’s, hugging him to his chest so that he wouldn’t see the blood he could feel rising to his face. He’d recently discovered that his favorite thing about being a dragon was his tail. He loved how it instinctively sought Natsu’s whenever they touched, just as it did now.

Sitting here, doing nothing more than staring at the stars, it was perfection.

It had taken them years, more than Gray cared to remember. Both of them had made mistakes, but against all odds, they had been granted a second chance to find their home in each other.

And they lived happily ever after…

THE END

Thank you for reading!

#fairy tail #gratsu #stingue #update #the red dragon fanfic #final chapter

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Text

Right Back Where You Started

[Masky/Timothy Wright X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight blood, slight violence, language]

[AN: Four of my OC's are in here! This was also requested from a friend a while ago.]

The beauty about being able to live a life outside of murdering people and being at the whim of a monster that fancies itself as a god is a variety of your own accord.

For instance, you can wake up whenever you feel like, take a job wherever there’s openings, meet new people and not have to bash their brains in just for asking about your life and only need to pick up a blade to cut food or occasionally packages you impulsively bought on the nights that feel like too much and not enough all in one. You can breathe and not worry about inky black tendrils crushing your throat for doing so without his permission. You’re able to sleep at night knowing that no higher up in your group will attempt to kill you in an act of proxy related hazing. You can clear your mind temporarily of the thoughts of what may come next in trade for semi-normalcy even though you know those thoughts won’t go away anytime soon. The weight of what you’d done was too much to bear, and Atlas can only disappear for so long.

When you first decided to betray your boss, the tall man in the woods, the faerie that steals children away, you acted on impulse. It was an impulse that was born from being all too exhausted with risking your life, committing sin upon sin and other terrible, no good things that should ever be uttered. The decision you made on impulse had no foresight or planning, and when you decided to run, you ran as far and as hard as you could away from him. Away from them. Away from it all. Of course, you know there were going to be repercussions for running like so few others did.

The ire of the Slender Man being the worst.

Most days, you try not to think of him. There’s no point - well, maybe there is a healthy fear you still have - but to worry yourself into a stupor would be silly now. You’ve been free of him for a year. He hasn’t sent you any signs, nor has he sent anyone… Maybe you weren’t important enough to set him off like some of the others had.

These are the things you like to think about as you sit on your couch watching the late night news that’s barely audible as you scroll through your phone. You never really did like the total silence an empty house provides. There’s a simmer cup of tea on the coffee cup and a few snacks laid out that you have little plans of eating while you relax and enjoy the midsummer night. Outside, you can hear crickets sing and cicadas accompany them. It’s peaceful, and while your mind would like to think of it as such, you can’t ignore the ringing in the back of your head. Things have been pleasant, too pleasant. There’s bound to be a storm due to roll in.

Still, you try not to think of these things, and instead focus on the content that scrolls in and out of your vision. It’s nothing particularly interesting, but helps get your mind off the things that often keep you up. And you continue to sit there on the couch, wrapped up in a light blanket to combat your AC as the hours of the night tick by. Your mind is completely off of really, any higher cognitive thought, when you hear something. It’s soft, low, sounds like two, maybe three people and they’re out in the distance. Must just be stumbling onto the borders of your ‘farm’.

See, the funny thing about trying to integrate into normal human life is that you physically can’t. You can follow all their customs, get into their society, look like them, but you’ll never be fully human. You want to know why? Proxies can never go back to what they used to be. They’re forever changed, and no force on heaven of earth can ever get rid of that. He can take your memory and dump you on the side of the road, but your biology has forever been changed. In most cases, it’s a nice thing to have: faster healing, better pain tolerance, heightened senses, and a better sense of problem solving than most people. Other days, it’s a hindrance for reasons you can’t quite explain. Some call it Slender Sickness, and the only way to remedy it is to be under the tall man’s care.

Because you’re not, you’ve found other ways to remedy the sickness he inflicts on practically everything he touches. Pills. You find them in odd, strange places, but they get the job done. So long as you have them, you can be free of his grasp and his connection.

But goddamn, the hearing is mostly a hindrance. On the account of you living on the edge of a college town, you’ve got land and are surrounded by farmer’s fields. You heat it all- critters in the night, teens messing with the patches, arguments, sometimes crimes, and it keeps you up at night. That’s a downside to not having him in your life- he’s not there to dampen its effects when it becomes too much. However, in this specific instance, your heightened hearing is a blessing.

The feeling in your gut only furls together tighter as you hear the three strolling down your dirt road. They’re close, much too close. You know that they’re here for you.

Frantically, you jump off the couch and start to damage control by making the place look like no one inhabits it. The TV and lights are turned off, the mug emptied of its contents, snacks put away and other leads buried. Your heart pounds a mile a minute - you know that if he finds you, it’s all over.

He’ll kill you - the Slender Man is not known for his mercy.

You feel like a chicken with its head cut off as you look around the house for weapons before settling on the kitchen knife. It’s cliché and reminds you of someone you once heard whispers about, but it’s all you can think of in this moment. When you left this life, you left the physical parts of it as well. All your gear, weapons, they’re hidden in a place that’s too risky for you to even attempt getting. Armed with the kitchen knife, you debate running out the back or hiding, then running. You always were good at staying out of sight, hiding it is.

Your eyes dart to the basement door and you slip through right as you hear the three outside your front door. There’s a window that opens in the direction of the town. If you slip out of it, you’ll be able to get a good headtstart through the field. The moment you start booking it down the stairs, you hear your front door get blown open.

“Wallace, what do you think?” You hear a male’s voice ask.

“Someone’s been in here recently,” a deeper male voice responds - must be Wallace, eyeing over your living room.

In the darkness, you quietly maneuver the crowded, cluttered basement, mentally cursing you left your phone upstairs in your haste.

“It feels like someone’s been in here,” Wallace’s voice continues. You can practically hear him smelling the air. “Ruth, tell Nyein to sniff this one out.”

You hear boots scuff against your wooden floor and stop somewhere in the doorway. “You could always just ask them yourself,” the female voice identified as Ruth verbally shrugs. She clicks her tongue, and you hear even more steps. How many of these people are there? You hope it’s just four. That’s a well sized group, come to think of it. “Ny, can you please sniff this one out? Seems like they’ve done a good job at scent covering.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Don’t give us any attitude,” the first male voice hisses slightly. “Do what you’re told-”

“Theo,” Wallace sharply reprimands.

You hear Theo sigh right as you reach the window. You pray to whatever deity will have you that it won’t squeak or make any loud noises, but the thing hasn’t been opened in gods know how long. You use the blade to lightly cut through the layers of off-white paint before the window is free. You mentally smile before attempting to lift it.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Nyein got your scent. Their pupils dilate upon realizing you’re the one the Slender Man has requested alive. You hear someone rapidly padding to the basement.

Panic fills your veins as you struggle to get the window open, not even caring that it’s making all the noise in the world. You need to get out!

“She padlock this thing?” You hear Ruth ask before she grunts. The door can’t hold them back forever.

You frantically push up on the window - it's a quarter open, not near enough for you to slip through. Shit, shit, shit! You need to go NOW.

“Jesus- just break it already,” Wallace sighs.

A few more grunts and you hear the wood splinter. You hear them descending the steps quickly.

“There!” Theo points.

You hold your breath and push the window up with all your strength before hosting yourself up.

“Shit! Out the front! Ny, keep on her,” Wallace commands as he smacks Ruth and Theo’s shoulder, the two quickly following him up the stairs.

You begin to shimmy out the narrow window as the being called ‘Nyein’ eyes you down. You don’t think you’ve ever seen an independent like that before. They look absolutely feral, and the scent of you has them locked on your crawling form.

Their eyes narrow, teeth bared, and they quickly lunge across the space for you, right as your legs reach the windowsill.

You cry out in surprise as their clawed hand digs into your ankle, drawing blood you know you can’t afford to worry about.

“Get off!” You shout in retaliation, kicking at their face. Freed, you begin to sprint into the field.

Nyein snarls and crawls out the window as well, running after you with a speed that has you on edge. You continue to run. Behind you, you can hear the other three quickly gaining on you as well. How badly does the Slender Man want you? Your lungs light on fire as they chase you through the field. Soon, you’ll be hitting the small stretch of trees before you reach the town. With other people, you’ll have a better chance at being safe. But the stretch of woods is an awful mess of brush and loose soil. You can’t afford to misstep now.

You take in a deep breath as you hurl into the small stretch of trees, all too aware of the proxies and independent that are hot on your trail. In the back of your head, you can tell they’re tired of you. Good. They should be. You narrowly avoid twisted roots and piles of mud and grow closer and closer to other people.

It’s so close that you can almost touch it.

Lost in your thoughts and too tunnel visioned in on reaching the town, you fail to recognize the steel jaw trap in the darkness and send your shoe right on it. It clamps down, bites, and holds you. You screech and fall forward, careening into the forest floor. The pain in your leg is absolutely agonizing, and you claw at it in vain to free yourself as your pursuers close in on you.

“Gave us quite the chase, Reader,” Wallace says with a slight scowl as he crouches a healthy distance from you. “Should let you rot here,” he muses. You can’t see his face both from the darkness of the night and the fact he’s wearing a mask, but you can tell he’s upset.

“Or let Ny eat her. Been a while since they’ve last had anything,” Theo adds on, glaring at you through the eyeholes of his mask that’s the head of a pig.

“He said he wanted her alive,” Ruth chimes in, a sigh in her tone. “She’s already fucked herself up enough, let’s not rub salt in the wounds.”

“Put her to sleep then,” Wallace shrugs.

You look up at these people like a caged animal, your eyes narrowing and slightly watering at the pain of the steel jaw trap. You feel yourself inching closer and closer to the earth subconsciously as Nyein eyes you like a prize.

\ They reach their hand out to touch you before you smack them away. Their snarl, their eyes traveling down to your ankle where the blood smells the strongest.

“Do it before they eat her,” The deep voiced man says again. “Though, last I checked, Ny doesn’t eat proxies.”

“She’s a traitor, not a proxy,” Ruth lightly corrects, her gaze alone shushing you from making any noise.

Not wanting to work yourself up, you settle for cursing them under your breath.

Without any other words, Ruth comes up to you, resting her boot on your chest to keep you down. You attempt to grab at her leg, throw her off balance, but she’s stronger than you on account of still being an active proxy. Her dark eyes scan you up and down before she reaches into her back pocket. “Take a deep breath for me,” she murmurs before smacking the rag to your mouth and nose.

You flail about, screaming and cursing before reluctantly taking that breath.

“... Thank you, you’ve done well. Head out to - yes, that’s right, Theo - head there and I will give you further instruction.”

You blearily come to on the carpet of an office you hoped you’d never be back in. The smell of jasmine and incense hangs in the air. You hear a door shut and catch the boots of the people who brought you back to him leave the room. He must be sending them out to their next assignment; it’s probably some poor other bastard that won’t escape like you did. You take in a few timid breaths and allow the light to filter in.

There he is, your boss. He stands in front of you like a god. He has no face, but you can tell he’s more than upset.

“Miss Reader, what a pleasure,” he says in a deep, authoritarian tone.

On instinct, you feel yourself shrinking.

“Really?” He muses, inky black tendrils sprouting from his back. “You have the nerve to run from me, suppress me, and now you do this? You dare show your submission?” He hisses. The tendrils move like bolts of electricity as they wrap around your exhausted, terrified form.

You cringe as the tendrils take over every part of you, squeezing as if they’re threatening to break your bones if you so much as breathe out of turn. Tears well in your eyes as you remember the fear you used to feel rushing back and overloading your senses.

“You’re absolutely pathetic,” he spits as the tendril wrapped around your neck begins to constrict. You notice his body language bristle as he looks at you longer. “I could pop your eyeballs out of your sockets. I could tear you limb for limb,” the Slender Man continues like it’s nothing.

You feel nothing but malice radiate off his form. It’s heat that singes your very soul. “S-Sir,” you gasp out. “Why would you b-bring me here just to k-kill me?” You attempt to reason, eyes watering and vision going fuzzy. You weakly attempt to use your fingers as a barrier between the constrictor and you. You can’t take this low oxygen any longer - not with him physically inhibiting you.

A cold chuckle reverbates in your head while the vision of wolf’s teeth smile at you, as if they’re ready to snap. “You always were smart,” he notes, loosening his grip ever so slightly. “I could rip your head from your shoulders and it would make none of the difference.”

“Answer my observation,” you weakly cough out before he holds you tighter. You struggle to move your limbs. Your blood feels hot.

“Masky,” he suddenly calls out, hand gesturing to his office doors.

You’re barely able to move your head and settle on shifting your eyes instead to those large, oak doors as they open just a crack.In slips a man in a tan coat. He’s got dark hair, bags under his eyes, and he looks exhausted - more exhausted than you feel. He doesn’t look at you but instead focuses on the Slender Man.

“Sir,” he greets, bowing his head slightly in reverence.

The Slender Man hums, clearly pleased. You see the wolf’s jaws smile in your mind’s eye.

“Reader, you will be under his care now,” the Slender Man says. “If you successfully spend half a year at his side, I will reconsider tearing you apart.” He says it so nonchalantly that you feel chills run up and down your spine.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

“Do you oppose me?” The Slender Man asks. “I am being more than generous, aren’t I?”

“Don’t take this offer for granted,” you hear Masky quietly add. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, you can hear Masky telling you not to push him too far.

Hesitantly, you nod, voice too weak to say anything physically.

The Slender Man’s tendrils suddenly retract from you, sending you roughly to the carpeted floor.

You yelp as you come into contact with the carpet and slowly gather yourself as you try to push down the aches and pains that bloom on your joints and shins that hit the ground particularly hard. You cough a bit as air returns to your lungs and struggle to stand.

“Do what you must,” the Slender Man waves off, turning his back to both you and Masky.

Masky finally breaks from his stance and moves quickly to your side to help you up.

At first, you try to smack his hand away, but upon realizing you’re too weak to even see straight, accept his hand and his arm when you’re standing upright. He smells of cigarettes and some out of date cologne. It’s not bad.

The two of you hobble out of the Slender Man’s office with Masky’s eyes never leaving your form. After all, you are his responsibility now. He continues to lead you through a mansion you’ve grown to despise and out into the warm summer morning. The Slender Man could never imitate the beauty of earth to its entirety, that much was apparent.

“Where are we going?” You ask in a rough voice, attempting in vain to clear it by coughing.

“Stop that,” Masky sighs as the two of you cross the lawn. “To the parking lot, getting in the car, then driving across the border to Mississippi. We’ve got a temp there,” he murmurs. “You good?” He’s mentally wondering why your healing hasn’t damage controlled this yet. Probably the boss still being mad at you is the best reason he can come up with.

“Do I look like I’m good?” You dryly respond, eyes squinting slightly as the fog begins to kick up. You know you’re reaching the end of his reach. Once the fog clears up almost as quickly as it appeared, you realize the Slender Man’s practically kicked you both out of his realm. The walk was always longer when you truly were his. He must be severely pissed off at you. In a way, you’re lucky he didn’t kill you from the get go.

It’s best not to dwell on that thought though.

The rest of the walk is quiet and you’re in the car before you can count to 100 (your numbers are very jumbled though). You slide into the passenger seat and feel a little better at being able to rest.

Masky slides into the driver’s seat and sighs as he grips the wheel. “You have any questions, you ask them now in the car. I’m not putting up with your bullshit when we get to the temp.”

You roll your eyes and look out the window. “Who are you?”

“Masky, you heard him,” he’s pulling out of the parking lot and mentally thanking the gods he wasn’t killed alongside you. When the boss is in such a questionable mood, there’s no telling what’ll happen.

“You know damn well what I meant,” you cough slightly.

Masky scoffs before reaching into the backseat for a moment. His fingertips brush a water bottle, and upon realizing that’s what it is, grasps it and then tosses it to you.

You nod and take a sip, mentally frowning that the water’s been heated in the morning summer sun.

“I’m a group leader. Probably haven’t heard of us though, we’re not terribly monumental,” he begins as he flicks the turn signal on. “You’ve got three other people to watch out for. Hoodie, he’s the right hand, Toby, he’s essentially our middle child, and Kate. You’re replacing her and the hazing process will start up,” he finishes, now matching pace with the other cars that sparsely decorate the expressway.

You pout slightly and press your lips into a thin line as you gaze out the window at the rolling scenery. You’ve been here before. You’ve brought people back here this exact way before. They’re all unwanted memories. In response, your body language becomes unreadable.

This does not go unnoticed by Masky. “Yeah the attitude isn't gonna work,” he says as he glances over at you. “C’mon, you’ve been through this process before. We all have - what gives?”

With a sigh, you flick your eyes over to him to gauge his mood. He seems genuinely curious. “You do know that I ran away for a reason, right?”

Masky nods. “Sure, it was stupid though.” He takes a hand off the wheel for a moment to open his window. “What did you think would happen?” Sounds like he’s trying to pick at your brain.

“Anything but this,” you gesture angrily to your current situation. “I hoped to never see him again,” you groan, clearly frustrated. You chug some more water.

Masky breathes out slightly, as if he’s judging your answers. “Whatever. Forget about pulling something like that again because I’ll personally come after you if it comes to that,” he claims in a tone that’s far too serious.

You roll your eyes slightly, “sure, like you’ll-”

His eyes shift on the expressway, and after ensuring there’s no one that’ll cause a pile up on behalf of him, he hits the brakes, sending you lurching forward into the dashboard.

“What the hell?” You cry out in an exasperated tone, struggling to peel yourself up from the dashboard. You cry out in shock again as you feel his hand at the back of your head, successfully grinding your skull into the heated polyvinyl chloride.

“Get that thought of your fucking head,” he hisses, raising your head slightly before smacking it back down.

You growl back and relent. Once the pressure from his arm is gone, you shove him off of you. The car picks up pace again and you notice him wave to a person who passes by - they have a mildly concerned expression - and he smiles like he didn’t just slam your skull into PVC.

Welcome back to the proxy life.

You make it to Mississippi by mid afternoon. Masky brings the car down some dirt path where a house lays right on the Mississippi river, and you can smell traces of blood. They must’ve cleared the previous residents out.

There, on the porch in a muscle tee holding a can of coke is a man with his left cheek missing. He twitches slightly as he waves at you and Masky.

“T-This her?”

Masky nods.

“Can’t b-believe she g-g-gave Wallace’s g-g-group the s-slip,” he says in a slightly amused, slightly annoyed tone.

“Word travels that fast?” Masky replies with a slight chuckle.

The proxy before you nods with a small smile, “c’mon. I wanna g-g-get out of this h-heat. It’s a-a-awful out here,” he says with a playful grimace as he slowly rises from the front step where he had been sitting.

“Is Kate happy?” Masky asks as he watches Toby head in, then nods for you to go.

With a small frown, you do so. At least it’s air conditioned.

“Over the moon,” a feminine voice cuts in from the kitchen. She’s stirring a thing of lemonade.

Masky smiles slightly and takes a seat at the table. “We weren’t that bad,” Masky notes as Kate slides a glass of lemonade to the group leader.

She raises a brow at Toby who glances down to his open pop can. “So, this is the one he wanted alive for this term?” She questions as she glances at you, silently asking if you’d like some.

You mouth a ‘please’ before getting comfortable at the table.

“Weirdly, yeah,” Masky replies before taking a languid sip. “Thought he was gonna go for someone with more street cred, but, whatever. She’s our problem now,” he shrugs.

You look down into the pastel yellow liquid and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance. All of this, it was wrong. You hadn’t had to play by proxy rules in a year, and here you were, bottom of the rung, the runt. You hadn’t been a runt in gods know how long.

Conversation begins to flow between the three people around you as glasses of lemonade are poured. You sit in silence, listening because you know it’s not your place to speak. As far as proxy culture goes, you don’t really have any rights. Well, you’re in a better place than independents, but according to other proxies, you’re a glorified errand boy. They say to jump and you’re supposed to ask ‘how high?’ Your group’s word becomes gospel.

Apparently, Kate was this group’s runt before you came in. But, runts only stay runts for a certain amount of time. It’s possible for groups to not have runts - and that’s essentially what this group was doing. Kate had outgrown her runt status and was well considered the youngest (in experience) member of their group but had the same social standing as Toby. While it was a joke to refer to her as a runt, they hadn’t had one for a while.

That’s where you come in. You’re the first member to be considered a runt in quite some time. And you can tell they’ve been itching to take it out on someone.

“Where’s Hoodie?” Masky asks as his fingertips trace the lip of his glass. “Should be thrilled to see we’ve got another one.”

“Only t-thing holding h-him back from h-hurting you is the f-f-f-fact the O-Operator asked f-f-for us to t-take her,” Toby giggles slightly as he crushes another pop can. “He’s h-h-handling something, Should be c-c-coming back now, though.”

“Speak of the devil and the devil will appear,” you hear another man’s voice chuckle as the front door swings gently open.

Standing in the doorway holding a crowbar and wearing a white t-shirt is Hoodie - sans hoodie. It’s much too hot to be wearing one anyways. He haphazardly tosses the crowbar to the floor before closing the front door behind him, then begins walking towards the kitchen.

“This is her?” He asks as he takes a seat next to Masky, silently thanking Kate for the lemonade.

“Disappointing, right?” Kate lightly jokes, making Hoodie smile.

“In this form, sure,” Hoodie observes as his hazel eyes rake over your form. “She looks weak, scrawny, low endurance, probably forgot all her skills, what, with her being missing for a year?” He says it like it’s a game but looks at you like he despises you. “Not training her. Not my problem, and especially not in this heat.”

“She’s part of our group,” Masky replies in a slightly exasperated tone.

“No-Nose goes,” Toby suddenly blurts out.

Everyone presses their index to their nose except for Masky, who sighs dejectedly.

“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles. “Let’s go, Reader. You’ve been awfully quiet.” The brown haired man says in a less than pleased tone, picking his glass up and momentarily pausing to place it in the sink.

You quietly follow in suit, nodding to your other comrades before following him out.

The nice thing about waiting for Hoodie to stir things up was that it was the late afternoon. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, and a breeze was beginning to shift through the air. It wasn’t near as hot due the sun no longer beating down on you. Besides, it was nice to get out of the house for a bit.

Masky and his group must have been staying here for a while, because he walked into the woods on this deer path like it was nothing and led you to a clearing. There were a few training things, but nothing of any substance - just a temporary fix until they were somewhere more permanent. Proxies are nomadic, after all.

“You still have a knife on you?”

“I would’ve stabbed you with it.”

He shoots you a look as if to tell you to watch your mouth and you holds your hands up.

“I’m joking,” you defend. “When I meant I wanted to never look back, I truly, deep down to my bones, meant it.”

Masky’s hand goes to his belt loop where he takes out a knife. It’s… severely dulled. Looks like he doesn’t trust you just yet.

“See that dummy? Show me what you remember and I’ll decide if we’re out here until midnight or not.”

The dummy in question looks gods awful. It’s missing an arm, the stuffing is all over the grass, and the poor thing looks like it can’t support its own weight anymore. You wonder which one of your comrades got it to this state of if this was a group effort.

You narrow your eyes and get a hold of the blade in your grasp. It’s much nicer than a kitchen knife - reminds you of what you used to use when you were but a shadow in the night. You glance at him, then the dummy, and decide to get to work.

There’s no use in running. The Slender Man will hunt you down regardless, and he won’t be as merciful the second time around.

“Stop stalling,” Masky chides.

You take in a breath, and do as told.

To say six months passed with ease would be a lie. It’s been six months of hell - and that’s mostly because you’re a runt paired with the fact you never wanted to be back here to begin with.

It’s been strange, you’ll give it that. The proxy in you took over faster than the human side of you could and you integrated back into proxy culture and society far easier than anyone expected. Of course, there were some moments where your group members would ruffle your feathers and put you in your place, but that was expected. To be a proxy is to be put under fire until you prove yourself otherwise.

You’ve gone on operations with them. Took lives again. Stole things again. You settled back into the life you originally left behind as if you’d never departed to begin with. That’s how deep the proxy mindset and muscle memory is embedded into those it takes hold of. It sets itself out to be the only thing you’ll ever know. You live by it, you die by it.

So, where have you been for the past six months? Well, still in Mississippi. About two weeks after you first arrived with your new group, you and the group moved down south near the ocean and have been staying there the entire time. Luckily, this place was considered a temp house for the people who owned it - they liked spending time in Europe - which left this place as yours. Besides, the Slender Man likes having you close. He was able to periodically check in on you with you being a few hours away as opposed to days. Why he was so interested in you, you’ll never know.

According to both him, and Masky, you’d been making good progress. By the end of your six months (lovingly referred to as a “trial run” by your group), you were half way back to what you used to be. It was disheartening to only hear “half” but it was better than nothing. A part of you wonders why you’re so inclined to get better when you should be focusing on leaving.

It’s not like you didn’t try.

You tried so many times that your group started a tally board and whoever found you first got a mark under their name. Whoever hit five before the board was reset got the next operation (or operation of their choosing) off. For the first few weeks when you were but a stranger with them, the punishments were harsh and unforgiving, like they hate you to your core. But, as the months went on, they went from fists to phrases. Eventually, you stopped trying to run so they no longer had to beat you. Every time you got that far off look in your eye, someone would reprimand you. It’s probably because they cared about you.

That’s common for proxies, bonding with your teammates on a level outsiders can’t understand. It’s mostly to keep you safe while out in the field. And unfortunately for you, you’ve been feeling that way towards your group. You’ve covered for each one at least once, and that gesture doesn’t go unnoticed. You’re in a strange place, if you’re being honest.

Take for instance now, back in the passenger seat of a car and heading back to Rosswood with Masky (he told you his real name is Tim) to talk with the Slender Man face to face. While the others in your group have been keeping up with him regularly, you haven’t seen him in person since well, six months ago. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach as you draw closer to the woods you once considered home.

“You nervous?” Masky hums as he turns the radio down.

“Yeah,” you reply, gazing out at the rolling fields again. “What if he-”

“It’d be stupid of him,” Masky cuts you off. “Six months of putting all this time and effort only to off you? Just… Just don’t say anything stupid,” he reminds you, a slight teasing tone lingering on his words. He looks at you with gentle eyes.

You scoff playfully. “Eyes on the road, weirdo.”

Standing in the Slender Man’s office this time as a welcome guest is weird. There’s still the scent of jasmine and incense, but there’s also something sweeter - like a memory he’s trying to provoke specifically for you. It’s warm, but not uncomfortably so, and it doesn’t feel near as suffocating as did that first time.

“You’ve certainly changed,” a deep voice says with an audible smile as it reverberates through your head.

“Sir,” you bow your head slightly.

“I’m going to make this short,” the Slender Man begins. “Miss Reader, I am satisfied with your progress these past six months.”

“Thank you, Sir,” both you and Masky reply.

The tall man hums. “However, you have only reached half of what you used to be. I believe the longer you stay in this group, the better you will become.”

You take in a sharp breath.

“Does that bother you?” The Slender Man doesn’t sound mad.

“I…”

Masky mentally clicks his tongue at you, and you glance over through the corner of your eye.

You decide to respond carefully. “I know normalcy… Sir, I don’t know if this life was ever meant for me, but,” you take in a deep breath and ball your fists to ground yourself. “If this is what you want of me, I will do it.”

The Slender Man chuckles. “Timothy, you’ve done an excellent job with this one. Perhaps I should have placed Pariah with you,” he emptily thinks aloud with another slight laugh. “I regret to inform you Miss Reader, that normalcy was never an option. You will go back with your team and you will continue to better yourself until I say otherwise.” He makes no move to stand from his desk, but his hands reach out.

Taking that as a nonverbal cue, you and Masky stand and each take a large hand.

The Slender Man’s fingers close around your much smaller hands before his hand leaves your grasp entirely. Instead of striking you, he gently cups your cheek. “Now go. I look forward to seeing you in six months.” The warmth is gone from his tone but lingers like doused coals in a still simmering fireplace.

“Thank you for your time,” Masky bows slightly, nodding for you to follow.

Without any other words, you nod to your boss and follow Masky out. The two of you trade silent conversation as you exit the mansion and back to the car. You slip in just like you did six months ago, and so too does Masky. The car comes to life, and you begin to peel out of the parking lot, back to Mississippi.

“How are you feeling?” Masky asks as he pulls down the sun visor after squinting at the beams of light.

“Not as bad as I thought,” you say in slight surprise. “Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Or,” Masky begins. “You were always meant for this.”

You laugh in response and smack his shoulder lighter. “You know you’re not slick, right?” You tease as you stick your tongue out.

Masky chuckles deeply and gets back on the expressway. “I try when I can.”

“Oh really?” You pretend to be shocked. “Where was that smooth talking when I first met you?”

“Out the window because I just met you,” he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You are literally the worst,” you teasingly scoff.

“Right back at you,” Masky breathily laughs. His dark eyes stay focused on the road as

you get comfortable in the passenger seat.

“Really though,” you say as you stretch slightly. “Thanks for not killing me.” You look at him with such gentle eyes that he can’t help but smile just as genuinely in response.

Masky won’t lie, he was admittedly worried for you in the beginning. What with you running away all the time, speaking ill of literally everyone, almost getting everyone caught by the cops… You were colorful, for lack of better words. It’s been nice cultivating that into something better. Maybe you’d make something of yourself out of this garbage fire of a hiccup.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugs. “It’s my responsibility to watch out for you anyways,” he says as before honking at someone who almost swerved into your lane. “Besides, you’re not all too bad, and as long as it’s me making sure you don’t set shit on fire… Think we’ll be just fine.” He looks over at you and smiles warmly - it feels like the sun - before he turns back to the road.

You hum contentedly as your hand reaches for the radio. You turn up the music and let it play, a serene, comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

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