#sigh. time to start the day i guess. onwards we trudge !!!

[piplupod]

now why the hell is that what the brain decided to do !!!!!

[itssuppertim3]

Lean (Miraak x Reader):

Contemplating on writing for Pyramid Head every once in a while since I can't get the thick bastard off my mind but we'll see what the future brings

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"Do you like winter, Miraak?" I asked the man strolling quietly beside me. "Not necessarily. However, I remember a time when I did. My temple always felt a bit warmer-- more enjoyable during that time." I snorted at him in amusement, to which he wasn't fond of. "I just imagined you stringing up holiday decor." He merely scoffed in denial, though we both knew it was true.

While searching for another conversation topic, my foot slid against the mud beneath me. "Careful," Miraak warned as his hands clasped firmly around my shoulders. My breath was trapped in my throat from the sudden startle, but somehow he only made it worse. Once my voice came back to me, I said, "uh...-- yeah. Thank you." Damn, his hands were so warm. I could feel the heat emitting from them even through my armor. Alas, the soothing feeling dissappeared as soon as he retracted his arms.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you hadn't already cracked your skull before I came along. It seems that you are always tripping and stumbling wherever you go." I scratched my cheek and chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, you know me so well."

"That is only because I stand witness to it," he uttered. We continued onward to Morthal in silence. A week ago, Jarl Idgrod sent me a letter of assistance; "potential murdurer on the loose," it had read. She noted that she wasn't one to fall victim to senseless gossip, but over the last several days she had been growing paranoid of the situation. Thus, she requested us to investigate. "I wonder why the jarl wants two dragonborn to take care of a killer instead of the guards? Gods, I feel like most of the soldiers are just using this pitiful war as an excuse to be lazy," I grumbled with my arms crossing.

"I agree. Though as far as I'm concerned, she wants you to handle it, not I." I perked up at his remark. "What do you mean? Everyone should know by now that you're just as powerful as I am. We've been traveling together for three months." Miraak diverted his gaze from me and pointed it straight ahead. "Perhaps, but you and I are still very different from one another. The people of Skyrim view you as a hero to be remembered for ages, whereas I will forever be remembered as a traitor-- if I was even remembered at all." The atmosphere around us suddenly became very dim. For a moment, the only noise that could be heard was the mire sloshing under our boots.

"That's bullshit," I retorted finally. Miraak was taken aback by my sudden change of attitude. "Excuse my language, but it is. Look at all of the good you've done since we've been together! We took down a vampire lord for crying out loud! And yeah, we weren't thanked for it or anything--"

"Y/n."

"But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you put in a lot of effort to make the world safer, and I think that deserves respect."

"Y/n." By now, Miraak was no longer walking at my side. "What is it?" Before he was able to respond, the muddy ground had fallen loose beneath me and I plummeted into a brown socket of water. Oh yeah, I forgot that we were trudging through a swamp. The filth shot through my mouth and nose as I was completely sumberged. To make matters worse, the water was also incredibly frigid, making it even more difficult to sort through my panic. A pair of arms dove into the murk and proceeded to yank me up by my collar.

I gurgled, spluttered, and heaved strong breaths once I was dragged out of harm's way. Miraak shook his head at me all the while. I could practically feel the smirk hiding under his mask. "Oh, yeah. Real funny. Please continue... to remind me of how much... of a klutz I am," I rasped, still trying to flow air into my lungs. "I did try to warn you, you know. You were about to walk straight into the pond," the man defended. "Ok. I'll give you that." Miraak helped me to my feet after I finally regained my composure. "Oh, great," I sighed at the muck covering me head-to-toe. "I look so unprofessional." He skimmed over the grime coated over my outfit before scooping a clump of mud and smearing some over his robes. "I suppose we'll both have to look unprofessional, then." My cheeks tainted a dark pink at his actions, but I decided to blame it on the nip in the air.

My arms hugged my body when I started to shiver. Going for a dip in late autumn definitely wasn't the best of choices. Miraak scanned over the map and pinpointed our distance from Morthal. "We won't be able to arrive there before nightfall. We still have an hour left to go," he informed. I groaned to myself in reply. "Guess we'll have to make camp, then." He nodded, gesturing me to follow him.

In a matter of minutes, he had already secured a decent campfire and was now assembling the tent. Meanwhile, I was sitting on a nearby log with my bedroll enveloped around my trembling body. I was enjoying watching him, though. "I'd say you're a natural. When did you get so skilled at camping?" I inquired once he took a seat next to me. "By learning from you," he stated simply. Gods, how could he be such a jerk yet act so charming?! I avoided saying anything more and began scrubbing the dirt from my armor with a wet rag.

It was freezing, tonight. There was no comforting glow from the moon and stars due to the thick layer of clouds overhead, which only made it feel colder. I shuddered when a breeze travelled through the area and tormented my body. I was still wearing my undershirt and trousers, and even those were still damp. The cloth made my fingers sting the more I used it, until I felt Miraak's hand take ahold of my own. "Your fingers are red," were the only words that left his mouth before he grabbed my other hand and squeezed them both gently. I was so shocked by this that I couldn't even so much as blink. "Are you cold?" I had forgotten about the prickles climbing over my skin. "Um--uhh, kind of." How did my voice become so small?

Before I could protest, I was pulled closer to Miraak. And now that I left exposed, he felt even warmer than he did earlier. I wasn't even touching him! Not to mention how nice his hands felt. He was like a portable smelter! I stayed more silent than a moth as he continued to caress my fingers and palms. There was no telling what was going on inside of that brain of his.

"You may lean against me, if you like."

Oh.

Oh!

My heart was thrashing around inside of my chest. He wanted me to just... slide even closer and lean on him?! Just like that?! By now, my mind was spiraling in both confusion and embarrassment. Still, I was very cold. There wasn't any harm in doing it, right? He was the one who offered. I ultimately accepted his proposal.

It started off with our knees touching awkardly, and then with my head attempting to rest against his shoulder, which failed due to the golden scales protruding out from his sleeve and jabbing me in the side of the head. Miraak eventually lifted his arm, inviting me to scooch under it-- to which I did. As soon as I got situated, he let his hand ease onto my shoulder. I was so flustered that I could barely breathe. It was suffocating, practically unbearable, yet I only felt myself nestling further into him. "You're really warm," I mumbled.

Oh, dear.

Why on Nirn did I say that? I sounded like a pervert!!! What if he thought I was creepy?! My heart dropped as he held me still and turned to look at me. "Y/n, how do you feel?" It was made to be a question, but it sounded more of a demand. I sat tense for a long while, lips parted yet unmoving. "About...?" I gulped when he slowly placed my hand flat against his chest. I could feel his heart throbbing at a rapid pace, as was mine. "Me."

Miraak's voice was low and sounded on edge. Perhaps he was more nervous than I thought he was? My next movements were reckless. Recklessness seemed to be my only sense of courage, right now. I carefully drew his hand towards me and slipped off his glove. He didn't stop me, however his muscles twitched under my touch. I stared at his pale skin for a long while. It was decorated with veins and had a scar stretched over his knuckles. Thanks to the protection of his gloves, his fingernails were in prestine condition. In short, his hands were utterly glorious.

I tilted my face down and pressed my lips against his scar, leaving him breathless. "Does that answer your question?" I asked Miraak with a flushed grin. Without responding, he brushed his thumb over my cheek and felt the entirety of my features. His hand was so calloused and smoothe! I cupped my own against it, keeping it there for as long as possible. Once again, I was pulled into another embrace, this one being much tighter and affectionate. Neither of us decided to speak, and somehow it felt more befitting that way.

With my head resting against Miraak's chest, I could hear his heartbeat quite clearly. It was much slower compared to earlier, more soothing than anything. He wasn't very sure where to place his hands, so he kept one firm on my waist and the other rubbing my hair. Sure, my face was hotter than a bonfire and there was still panic fresh on my mind. Then again, I also felt so calm in his arms. This may have been the first time in my life where I actually felt normal. Everything around me simply fell into place. It was selfish of me to inwardly beg for this moment to never end. As a dragonborn, I had my responsibilites, but for now I kicked those responsibilities aside. I had the right to be selfish every now and then.

"Maybe I should go diving into swamps more often," I teased, breaking through the comfortbale silence. I felt my heart flutter in the midst of him vibrating a soft chuckle. "That would certainly be an entertaining idea. Though I might not get the same reaction from you each time." I peered up at my new love interest with a quirked brow. "What kind of reaction?" In one swift motion, Miraak nudged up his mask to his nose and blessed me with a kiss. It was quick and simple, hardly lingering over my lips in time for me to process it. It was as if I had just imagined it!

Even so, the blush stained on my cheeks was already spreading to my ears. This man was a complete menace. His mask was already tipped back down, but the coy smile he was holding was evident. "You bastard," I hissed. He only shrugged his shoulders at me. "If you fall into the swamp again, I may even give you another kiss," Miraak jested. I proceeded to whack his bicep.

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

I bet Miraak got those plump ass lips :^3

[stuckonmain]

Fleeting Austice (Over the Garden Wall x Fem!reader) Part 4

*******

Anemoia, book 2

*******

“I am so freaking done with snow.” Said (Y/N), kicking a snowdrift.

“Ugh, yeah, I sure hope it melts soon.” Beatrice agreed.

Beatrice, (Y/N), and Greg were here. With me. (Y/N) was wearing my cloak. I….I don’t even know how that happened, or what happened, really, but….

Well. To be clearer, Dr. Fernsby did a few things- experiments, procedures, whatever you call it. And things were starting to come back- my memories, I mean. I don’t remember a lot about my time here, or Beatrice and (Y/N), but I remember…before. Before the Unknown swallowed me, before I merged into it…

I remember my mom, my dad, Greg’s dad, Greg….I remember Sara, a pretty girl who I kinda miss, I remember Jason Funderberker- my rival…I mean, the recollections are a bit fuzzy, but aren’t all memories kinda blurred? Basically, I remember who I was before I became….this monster. And in a way, I haven’t changed much. I’m still…me, I’m still too anxious to talk to people, I still am cringing at what happened on Halloween night, and…I’m admittedly still nervous about Sara and the cassette tape…stupid, right?

I looked back up to the group. I wanted to interact with them, but…I don’t know, what if they thought I was being dumb? Actually, this anxiety is dumb, but…it’s still there, you know?

I clutched the lantern’s handle and trudged onwards through the snow. I thought about home…it was so pretty there, during the Fall…

A memory floats through my head, of perching on a balcony with that girl, (Y/N), and staring out as the sun rose over an autumn colored forest. The leaves floated by, their whispers asking us one thing .... ‘Remember the players who played for you…the cemetery where long forgotten stories were put to rest….remember the October moon and those who danced beneath it…or don’t. It’s up to you.’

I longed for the days of traveling through these woods…with my brother, my keeper, and the one who had my soul. Oh jeez, thas sounds too pretentious…hmm.

I longed for the days of wandering through the woods with my brother and my friends.

And it’s silly, because I hardly even remember those days. But….those vague memories float up here and there, and…well, I miss it.

“Wirt?” I jumped and looked up to see (Y/N), who was waving a hand in front of my face.

“Uh….hi?” I said nervously.

“Oh good, you’re alive. You zoned out there for a moment.”

“Oh, uh, sorry…”

“No problem, we’re just trying to decide something here.” She explained.

Beatrice nodded. “(Y/N) and your brother say that we need to go save a duck, and I say we need to keep following the map.”

I shrugged. “Well, whatever you guys want, I guess- wait, why would we go save a duck?”

Greg looked up. “Because we’re good, loyal men, Wirt, and we stick to our promises!”

I frowned. “What’s that have to do with ducks?”

“Plus, we took their clarinet…” (Y/N) sighed.

“You have a clarinet?”

Beatrice groaned, ignoring my question. “Aren’t we looking for the Tome of the Unknown?”

“Yeah, I guess so…”

“But Beatrice, (Y/N), we promised! Wirt, tell them we need to find Duck!” Greg exclaimed.

“Greg, I don’t even know what’s going on!” I groaned. What the heck does a duck have to do with this?!

“Hey, isn’t that the library right there?” Beatrice said, changing the subject. I followed her gaze to an old beat up building with colonial architecture. As pretty as it might have once been….it gave me a weird feeling. The windows were just…too dark, too opaque. As if the darkness was pulling the light out of the world around it.

(Y/N) frowned. “Not according to the map, but admittedly, it looks exactly like the picture….”

“I sure hope it isn’t. That place looks creepy.” I said, chills running down my spine.

“Wirt, you look creepy.” Beatrice said.

“What? I do not!”

“Yeah, you do! You’re all, like…spindly and stuff.”

I felt my face flush. Was I….creepy? I know I’m a…monster…but…

I felt (Y/N)’s hand on my shoulder. “BEA! He isn’t creepy! That’s enough. Now, as I was saying, that does look a lot like the Library of Hallow, even if it doesn’t quite match the map. So, onto the plan of attack-”

“Ooh, we’re attacking things! Me and Sargent Funderbeker are ready, General (Y/N)! What’s the plan?”

(Y/N) nodded impatiently. “Yes, the plan. So, Beatrice, you and Greg will go find Duck, okay?”

“How in the world are we gonna do that? It could be anywhere by now!” Beatrice whisper-shouted.

“Just…pretend, to appease Greg, please?” (Y/N) begged.

“Hmmph. Fine, but only because you’re the least annoying one here and I owe you one.”

“Great. And Wirt…”

I looked up nervously. “...yes?”

(Y/N) smiled. “You and I will go to the library, and I’ll try to catch you up on…everything.

“Oh, um. Cool, okay. Creepy library. Right.” I sighed.

*******

“I don’t think libraries are supposed to be this….dilapidated.” I said as we ducked under a fallen rafter.

“Hmm, I guess it is abandoned.” (Y/N) said, walking ahead of me.

I looked around the room. “Yeah, I don't see anything except-hey wait!” I jumped. I saw someone waving from the other side of the room!

“Look over there!” I said, and the two of us bounded across the rubble to see what was waiting on the other side.

My heart sank. It wasn’t a person, but a portrait? It was a pleasant painting of an Edwardian era woman, but….

“What? But I could have sworn I saw someone wave…”

“Huh, I guess it must’ve been a trick of the light.” (Y/N) shrugged.

I frowned. “Yeah, I guess so…”

“Wait!” A voice shouted. I jumped, but then doubled over in pain. All of a sudden, I was hit by a pounding headache.

“Terribly sorry to frighten you, but I thought you ought to know- there are people in the library!” The voice continued.

“T-That’s g-gre-eat-” I managed to choke out. My head throbbed.

“Wirt!” (Y/N) gasped. She helped me up, and I tried not to lean on her so much. I opened my eyes to a pair of wooden antlers that tangled out of my skull.

But as soon as they came, they retracted again, shooting back into my head as though nothing happened.

There was a beat of silence.

“So you’ve brought a beast here. Lovely, Said the voice sarcastically.

“Hey, he is lovely!” (Y/N) said defensively. “I mean…he isn’t evil! So, shut it, whoever you are!”

“Umm…(Y/N)?” I muttered as I stood back up, focusing on something behind her. “I think I know who it is…look.”

She raised an eyebrow and turned around.

“Hullo.” Said the voice that was coming out of the portrait.

“You know, I really shouldn’t be surprised by now.” (Y/N) sighed. “So why is it that I’m still a bit shocked that I’m talking to a painting. Honestly.” She scoffed.

“I have a name, you know.” Said the Edwardian painting.

“And what, pray tell, would it be? I’m not exactly a mind reader, but bear with me.” (Y/N) said snarkily. She looked…very done with dealing with people. Fair enough.

“It’s Arda. Now, what are you doing here, bringing a beast to this hellscape we call home?”

“Who’s we?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

She fumed. “...Just me. There isn’t a ‘we’. That’s the problem. I’m stuck here, and I need the lens to get out.”

“...A…lens?” I frowned, trying to ignore my still-spinning head.

“Yes, a lens! Are all you beasts this thickheaded?!” She snapped.

“Hey, why would we help you if you’re treating my best friend like that?!” (Y/N) hissed.

“It’s fine, (Y/N), I get that a lot.” I mumbled.

“What?!” She whipped around to meet my eyes. I flinched involuntarily, and she froze. Her eyes widened.

“Wait, Wirt- sorry.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I snapped at you, and I didn’t mean to. You’re doing great. I’m just pissed off that this is normal. You don’t deserve that, beast or boy or both or neither.”

I smiled lightly, grateful for her support.

The painting snorted. “Of course, our local beast sympathizer. I’d love to tell you what he’s done, but I’d much prefer to hear your reaction when the cursed half-life at your feet admits it himself.”

What?

“No, no, I-I think there’s been a misunderstanding- I’m not…him, you know? The real tall one…y-yeah, you’ve got the wrong beast.” I laughed nervously.

She looked me up and down, her sharp eyes boring into my soul.

“Sure. Naturally you’d want that to stay hidden, but darling….secrets don’t last forever…now go get that lens! It’s on the bookshelf, and I’ve been needing it.”

“Why should we help?” I frowned.

“Yeah, so far all you’ve done is insult my friend and bother me,” (Y/N) added.

“Because, you want to prove you’re a good person?”

I scoffed. “That’s stupid. Why should I prove anything to you?”

“And why the heck would you need a lens? That seems…weird.” (Y/N) said, confused.

“Because, if I get a lens I won’t be stuck in this cursed painting!” Screamed Arda.

(Y/N) paused. “Hmm, I guess that changes things a bit…we give you freedom, fair enough…but what’s in it for us?”

“Well…I’ll let you keep the lens.”

“Why would we want that?” I frowned.

“Try it on and see for yourself.” Arda said, checking her nails.

(Y/N) frowned, but headed over to the bookshelf anyway. She came back with a brass camera lens, and held it over her eye.

“Oh my gods….Woah. Wirt, check this out.” She handed me the lens, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I held it up to my eye and looked around. All the other paintings in the library had started to move! I watched as a little picnic scene came to life, and saw a grand ball begin, and watched as a pair of lovers shared a first kiss…

“Wooaah.” I gasped.

“So…how do we help?” (Y/N) asked as I stared at the paintings.

“Just grab my hand with the lens on.” Arda sighed.

“Wait.” I frowned. Something wasn’t lining up. “How come we can talk to you without this lens?”

“Because I don’t come from one of these paintings, I come from the Unknown. I was a person too, before I was trapped in here.”

“And how were you trapped?” (Y/N) said, raising an eyebrow.

“It doesn’t matter! Just let me out!”

I wasn’t sure if this was the greatest idea, but (Y/N) had already let the portrait free. I watched wide-eyed as the blonde Edwardian woman broke out of the canvas, although flowed out is almost a better way of putting it.

But the colors of the painting swirled off of Arda and onto (Y/N). By now, her entire arm was swirling with colors, brushstokes in various shades that were close to her skintone, but distinctly painted…

I wanted to do something, but flames began to dance before my eyes….it isn’t real it isn’t real it isn’t real….

I took a deep breath and focused on the scene in front of me.

“What the hell are you doing to her?!” I spat, letting my inhuman features to take over. There was a quiet cracking noise as the branches curled out of my head, and I felt my limbs grow longer as I grew taller. I knew painfully well how unlike me it all was, and I was a bit surprised I had forgotten I could do this. When it first happened, I had grown dysphoric…I tried not to think too hard about it, to spare my feelings.

Arda gave a quiet eep! as she watched, jaw dropped. (Y/N) fought the oil paint tendrils to little avail, staring at me in what looked to be panic…and…pride? I’ll probably overthink that later.

“Well, see, the painting needs a host! A-and it doesn’t need to be your pretty little friend, because so long as you have the lens, it can be anyone! J-just not me!”

I hesitated, trying to decide if shoving her back into the painting would be cruel, and she took that moment to dart down the hall and out of sight.

“Ignore her…just…I don’t know.” (Y/N) sighed, at a loss.

I turned back towards the painting, now of a pretty girl in a black skirt and my blue cloak.

“There has to be a way to fix this!” I exclaimed.

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, I don’t wan to be stuck here forever, but if it comes down to it….Wirt, you aren’t allowed to take my place in the painting, okay?”

“But- I don’t want you to be stuck there! I mean, if I were in the painting, you could go home safe, and-”

“You are NOT ALLOWED to take my place. I won’t let you.”

I nodded. “Alright. Fine. There just has to be a way out of this….hmm..”

I picked up the lens and looked around the room. The other paintings laughed and talked amongst themselves. I wandered down an aisle, to see if maybe they had a way out of this.

I froze as I reached the last painting. Staring back at me was…me. Well, not quite me, but it was meant to look like me. And it was standing in front of a dead child.

The lantern handle grew slippery in my hand as I watched the scene play out.

The woodsman’s axe was now in fake-Wirt’s hands, and he brought it down on…

I looked away, feeling sick. When I looked back up, fake-Wirt was covered in blood.

I had a sinking feeling that that was an example of my recent endevors.

(Y/N) would hate me, if she knew…well, she doesn’t need to know.

I wouldn’t tell her.

It would be fine.

I took a deep breath. Time to save (Y/N).

Well, I’d have to be smart about this. I held the lens to my eye and looked around the room.

“Hey, people! Over here!” I yelled.

The paintings ceased their chatter and turned to stare at me. Suddenly I was too aware of all their eyes…I tried not to shiver. Okay, this is for (Y/N). This is fine.

“I am…the relocating service. Yeah. I’m the relocating service. And I’m here to offer residence in a painting of a mansion, so if anyone is unhappy with their scenes…um, unhappy with their quarters…speak now.”

There was silence. I could basically hear my heart pounding…

“Well, yes, I think I’d like that very much.” Said a soft voice.

I spun around to face a painting of a little mouse in the rain. The little guy was shivering, and with the lens on, I could hear the pounding rain.

“Perfect.” I nodded. I set down the lantern, reached into the frame and brought the mouse out. I brought it over to Arda’s painting, and it scampered in.

“Wirt, that was genius!” (Y/N) smiled and grabbed my hand.

“Wait-” I sqeaked, as she stepped down onto nothing-

“Ahh- shit-” She fell forward, and I raced to catch her.

And then I was too aware of her hands on my shoulders, and my arms around her waist.

I blushed and set her down. I wasn’t super strong, so I probably hadn’t helped much.

“Let’s go.” I said lightly, smiling as the mouse made itself at home in it’s new painting.

*******

“Hey, Wirt?” (Y/N) asked as we exited the library.

“Yeah?”

“Well…do you…remember much yet? Do…do you remember me?”

I shrugged. “Sort of? I don’t remember much of what happened after that Halloween, but I remember life before the Unknown. I…I miss it. But you feel familiar. Like…well, familiar.”

I had to bite my tongue to avoid admitting to the fact that she felt so familiar that I wanted to hug her just to prove she was real. To avoid saying how much I trusted her and cherished her, not due to logic but due to…the way she made me feel. I didn’t remember our conversations or how she looked, but I rember the feelings she gave me.

“I’m so done with snow.” I muttered, kicking a snowdrift.

“Theoretically, spring should be here soon…” (Y/N) said hopefully. “This eternal winter reminds me of…Narnia or something.”

“Too bad it isn’t Narnia, huh? Then we’d get to hang out in a forest of normal talking animals.” I laughed.

“Oh Wirt, hanging out with you is great anywhere. Now, where did Beatrice and Greg run off to…”

I tried to hide my blush.

*******

Author's note: Sorry it took so long to update! I hit a bit of a writer's block due to how unsatisfied I am with how this story is going. I don't know, what do you guys want to see in upcoming chapters? Please let me know, I genuinely need a few ideas.

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Polo 3

Previously on Polo

The sun was glaring; absolutely murdering the entirety of the world in the noontime shine of a clear day in the early spring. The heat couldn’t come just yet, still not allowed due to larger forces like the tilt of the planet and the distinct absence of a certain player, yet to be seen despite a not-so-covert glance at the pitch during warm ups. The entire event was going to be the largest of its kind, and it was like the world knew it, opening itself up and shining all of the kindest wishes on the sport, as a large herd of watchers made their way to find a place to watch. 

The tents were stocked with alcohol and snacks, people in hats and those who were there because they were supposed to be. But along the pitch, bleachers filled up with anyone who wanted to watch, creating an atmosphere of joy and excitement that’d been lacking at the private matches. 

There really wasn’t a reason to be there. Clarke had more than fulfilled her daughterly duty for the entire year with her increasingly frequent showings at events for both of her parents. She chalked it up to growth, and becoming a better person, to make an effort, to try her best to show her mother that she was happy for her, and to prove to her father that she was deserving of her name, even if that meant trudging through society things in lieu of his wife. 

But seeing as Kane’s opening of the Gauntlet of Polo opening day party was not her mother’s, nor was it something she felt compelled to do to represent her father, Clarke had no true reason to go other than because Kane was nice enough to invite her, and she truly had nothing else to do. 

“So where’s the hot polo playing Argentinian underwear model who recites you poetry and fucks you in stables?” 

Clarke grit her teeth before sighing and shaking her head, giving her best friend a look that should equal death, if she’d been luckier. 

“What?” Raven shrugged. “I want to get a good look at the girl that convinced you to be okay with your parents divorce. I’m sure there are over-paid therapists who would kill to know how to do it.” 

“She didn’t--”

“And made you nicer in general to your parents. And me. And your life is less chaotic now-- I’ve noticed you are volunteering. That must be some of the worlds most powerful puss--”

“Kane! Mom!” Clarke interrupted her friend’s tangent, thankfulness apparent in her voice as she found the host and hostess. 

Her mother was always beautiful, but Clarke began to see how much nicer happiness looked on her, and as much as she claimed to always love her father, there was a girlish spark that came when Abby was near Marcus. It took Clarke long enough to put aside her feelings to see it, but when she did, she couldn’t have been happier, despite the occasional bitterness about what was lost. It was Lexa’s stupid notions of love that messed with her brain and her ability to hold a grudge. 

There’d been a truce between herself and Kane, reached gently and treated very cautiously, but still, it remained. She had dinner with them just a week ago when they were in the city, and it wasn’t entirely painful. As much as she wanted to dislike Marcus Kane, she couldn’t bring herself to do it because he was just… nice. And he made Abby smile in a way that Clarke didn’t realize she hadn’t seen in a while. 

The real benefit of all of this love and joy being that while Abby got to live her best truth, it meant less comments about Clarke’s “wasted potential,” and there was a bigger focus on her art, which led to less stress with their average communications. 

“Oh, honey you made it,” Abby smiled and hugged her daughter, kissing her cheek quickly, squeezing her shoulders. “I didn’t think we’d find you in all this.” 

“Believe it or not,” Clarke explained as she accepted a quick hug from her mother’s boyfriend. “It’s easy to find the guy who owns a team in a tournament sponsored by his company.” 

“I’ve been looking and couldn’t find you.” 

“I took Raven to see the ponies.” 

“Look at that,” Kane grinned. “She’s using proper jargon already.” 

“Clarke’s given me a quick rundown, but I don’t know if I trust her expertise yet,” Raven offered after all pleasantries were exchanged. “Care to teach me, Kane?” 

“The more the merrier,” he smiled wider, like a kid in a candy store, surrounded by people who wanted to listen to him explain his favorite sport. “We better go find a good spot. It’ll start soon.” 

Raven turned and gave Clarke a wry grin before linking her arm with Kane’s as she maneuvered them through the crowd. Clarke let her mother squeeze her and follow along a few steps behind. 

“It means a lot that you’ve tried to take an interest in something that Marcus finds important,” Abby offered as they meandered along. 

“Just a good reason to be outside, and Raven loves selling rich people her programs and things,” Clarke dismissed her effort for anything benevolent as she grabbed a flute of champagne gratefully. “I’m fairly certain that’s the only reason she keeps me around.” 

“Whatever the reason. It means a lot to me. I know it wasn’t easy to find out--”

“We don’t have to do this.” 

“I know,” Abby relented. “You just never cease to amaze me is all. Marcus is important to me, and you’ve taken the time to get to know him, just like I’m sure you would when your father starts--”

“Dad won’t date anyone else.” 

The words came out a little bit too harsh, and Clarke wasn’t sure why she felt so protective of her father’s refusal to get over a broken heart. 

“He will eventually, and believe it or not, no matter how he feels about Marcus and even me right now, seeing you be open to our happiness will make it easier.” 

“I guess I’m just a saint.” 

It was meant to be a joke, but Clarke felt suddenly a little guilty. They took their seats beside Kane and Raven, and Clarke looked out on the pitch, wondering if she would be there at all if it hadn’t been for the oddest addiction she somehow developed for a stupid girl who argued with her every time she saw her. 

She might not even get to see Lexa today. She might only see her on the pitch. And would that be a waste? Should she think about this perfect stranger as often as she did and look forward to this stupid even for the past three weeks? Was she proving Lexa’s points right about lust and love and soulmates? Did she believe in something like soulmates? How could she? And what did it matter. Wasn’t this a lot to do just for sex? Very, very, very good sex, but still--

“You’re not zoning out already, are you, Clarke?” Kane smiled and waved his hand in front of her face, bringing her back to reality. 

“Just listening, making sure I remember everything.” 

Raven gave her a look. 

“Now tell me about your team. Clarke was telling me all about how skilled the one… what was her name?” 

“Lexa,” Kane offered excitedly, before Clarke could bring herself to utter the name. “She is incredibly skilled. I’ve never seen someone ride with such passion. She is so fluid, covering everything, seeing plays before they happen. And she’s got this passion in her blood for the sport. She hits hard, and takes a licking-- Are you okay?” 

Only when Kane stopped talking did Clarke realize she’d spilled her glass, letting it tilt back toward her chest as she remembered exactly how passionate and fluid and licking that Lexa had been. The cool liquid froze her chest, dripping down her front as she hurried to pat it dry. 

“Fine, fine. I wasn’t paying attention.” 

“Off in another world,” he offered politely. 

“This girl has her head in the stables,” Raven joked, though only Clarke understood it. “I get now why Clarke’s so passionate about those ponies. You are a hell of a salesman, Kane.” 

“This is something that costs me money. Imagine what I can do with something I want to make money off of.” 

They shared a laugh and Clarke joined in, only half paying attention as the team was announced and she caught the now familiar jerseys making their way to the center for the start of the match. 

There was an air to the polo player, helmet on, stoic and sitting tall as she stood beside her fellow teammates, her horse still as she was. Lexa listened politely to the anthem, she listened to the announcer, but she didn’t move more than necessary. It was by a stroke of luck that she found Clarke in the crowd, though Clarke wouldn’t agree anything was lucky about it, because now she had to sit in the stands after getting the full weight of Lexa’s glance. Only slightly did Clarke notice the pull of one corner of Lexa’s mouth and the fire behind her eyes. It made her gulp. 

Lexa didn’t look away the entire time and neither did Clarke. She didn’t have to say anything. They both knew. 

XXXXXXXXXX

It was an actual match, and a hard fought one to begin the Gauntlet that would last the next few months, and Lexa ached in the most delicious kind of ways after the win. Over the next week she’d have to win five more to hoist the first cup, collect the first purse, and move onward in hopes of completing the perfect Gauntlet, winning all three cups, and collecting the bonus purse that would triple her yearly income. 

No pressure at all when trying to impress a girl who was set to inherit billions. With a B. 

Showered and cleaned up, Lexa made it to the crowds in time to catch part of the second match. The sun was dimming, fading into the trees, giving a bit of a sunset despite the lights that shined over the pitch. It was a perfect evening for polo, and Lexa felt it, still riding the high of her win and feeling the limitless possibility of the next few months. 

It didn’t hurt that she caught a certain girl’s eyes before it started and put on a show. No, Lexa didn’t think about that at all. 

There was absolutely no way she had a chance with someone like Clarke, prize purse be damned. Lexa was the person who got a taste-- who was used for the pleasure of someone who had other responsibilities. In all of her dealings with people like Kane, with people like Clarke, she knew she was an interloper; destined to be a tagalong, someone who was never quite part of their world. Those were the things that she thought about after that momentary rush of seeing Clarke-- an intense loss at never having her completely. 

She didn’t look for Clarke in the tent with the other donors because she could feel her. It would take her a moment to get back to being okay with being a plaything. It had its perks, and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, to be someone who only got a taste when that taste was delicious. Lexa was okay with the being just a fling, if only her heart would listen and not get in over its head. 

“You, in that dress,” Lexa whispered as she approached a bare back, the navy blue of the dress, dipping along spine, hanging on shoulders. “Has all of my attention.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Lexa half-smiled and grabbed a flute of champagne, handing it to the woman beside her before taking one for herself. Only then did she allow herself to look at Clarke, meeting blue eyes and lips she desperately wanted to kiss already, after exactly one second of being within her orbit. 

“It’s becoming a problem, princess. You look too distracting in everything.” 

“Maybe you should stop looking?” 

“Would you like me to stop?” 

With her words, Lexa shifted closer, and Clarke felt it. Their bodies moved around, hovering and refusing to touch though desperately wanting to feel the next. Clarke licked her lips and looked up from beneath her lashes while Lexa looked over her cheekbones as she took a sip and played with the stem of her glass. 

“It’s been three weeks. You didn’t try to find me?” 

“I’ve been busy training,” Lexa tried, unsure of if she was supposed to find Clarke. She never knew it was an option. “And I didn’t… Three weeks, and were you preparing for a Gauntlet?” 

“You were the one that was trying to convince me to fall in love with you.” 

“Or lust.” 

“Right, or lust,” Clarke nodded. “I couldn’t find you. That’d just prove you right.” 

“And we wouldn’t want me to be right, would we?” 

Despite herself, Clarke smiled, small and there. She blushed a little, right beneath her jaw, near her earlobes. Lexa gorged herself on it. 

“If you’re right, you get all of the power. I can’t give you that.” 

“But it would be great if you did. I promise to be a benevolent overlord.” 

“What if I don’t know how to be kept?” Clarke asked after a moment of quiet. It was the most honest thing she’d said in their time together. 

Lexa reached forward to touch her, finally. She ran her finger along her forearm, and she paused at Clarke’s wrist, running her thumb along the small protrusion there. She watched her fingers move against Clarke’s skin. 

“I’m good at being still. I’ve broken more wild things than you, princess.” 

As she stood there, Clarke felt Lexa’s warmth, and she wondered to which level they were speaking, because almost accidentally, she’d confessed one of her truly darkest fears, that she wasn’t one to be in love, that she didn’t know how, that she wasn’t sure she was worth being looked at like Lexa looked at her, whether it be love or lust of something between. 

“I completely mean to interrupt whatever is happening over here,” a voice rang out, oddly cheerful and not at all in line with the tone established. 

Lexa retracted her hand quickly, finishing the rest of her champagne as a result of compensating for the movement. Clarke stood up, her body language becoming alert and afraid. There was the shame, Lexa saw and pretended to ignore, of being caught with someone like her. 

“Hell of a game you played out there, Lexa,” the new woman explained as she grabbed them another round of drinks from a passing tray. 

The crowd cheered for whatever was happening on the pitch, and Lexa looked toward it in hopes of finding a reason to escape, the trance of Clarke Griffin broken for a moment. 

“And I heard all about how amazing your play was from Kane. Clarke couldn’t keep her eyes off of you, and I have to say, I get it now.” 

Lexa found her interest turning back to this shorter, nonplussed member of their group, her interest piqued as she recognized a fellow interloper, although someone who seemed to own it much better and in a way she almost envied. 

“I wasn’t--” Clarke began before taking a breath, earning a grin from her friend. “Lexa, this is Raven, my best friend dating back from elementary school, so please don’t hold it against me.” 

“I couldn’t. She seems to have such great taste if polo players,” Lexa grinned, extending her hand. “Lexa Woods. It’s a pleasure to meet you--”

“Raven,” she offered, shaking it heartily. “I’ve heard many things.” 

“All good, I hope.” 

“Mythical, some might say.” 

Clarke coughed and cleared her throat until her friend returned the hand it’d been shaking and went back to sipping her champagne. Lexa felt her chest puff a bit, and she couldn’t help it. 

“I should go make the rounds,” she finally offered as the two ancient friends glared at each other, having an entire conversation. “I’m sure Kane has some constructive criticism, and plans for the next matches. I hope I see you both around, and thank you for coming to support us.” 

“It was nice to see you again,” Clarke offered with a slight nod. 

Brazenly, Lexa leaned forward, placed her hand on the small of Clarke’s back so that her thumb could touch the bare skin of her spine. She kissed her cheek. 

“I hope you choose to find me, princess,” she whispered. “I love wild things as they are.” 

Lexa pulled away quickly and shook Raven’s hand again. 

“It was nice to meet you, Raven. I hope Kane didn’t bore you terribly.” 

“Not at all,” she returned. “I hope to come to more, if Clarke will invite me.” 

But Clarke didn’t answer, just stared at Lexa until she nodded and walked away, fading into the crowd in search of her benefactor. 

“Holy shit she’s hot up close,” Raven finally offered after a moment where Clarke downed her champagne. “Like. Insanely hot. Superhuman hot. And when she did that thing, that being so close to you but not touching you thing. Damn. And then, I think she practically was undressing you with her eyes when I walked up. I’ve never seen eyeballs look like murder, but hers were coming for me.” 

“You see what  mean, right?” 

“Yeah, you have a problem there,” her friend agreed as Clarke finally took a breath and nodded weakly. “I’d have to go for it.” 

“Yes. Without a doubt.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

Even though there was an entire week of matches for the tournament, Lexa still waited for a girl to appear, to make the move, to find her. She knew that it had to be Clarke who appeared, who made the move because she was the one who was most afraid. It was supposed to be a joke, but Lexa knew it was the most honest thing about her to admit that she was already in love with the stranger. 

She knew nothing about Clarke, not really, and yet she felt like she understood her on a cosmic level, an inherent kind of language they both spoke, that defied time. Lexa craved that poetry, and perhaps it was the works of the great romantics that she kept reading and clouding her brain with such notions, but she couldn’t help it. It seeped into her very DNA. 

The week led to the first win out of three for the Gauntlet, and Lexa hoisted the cup valiantly, happy that she was worth her weight in gold, as Kane liked to explain. And after all of it, after they made the trip home, and she made sure the stables were taken care of and schedule made for the following day, Lexa sat on the porch to her small home about five miles from the horses, and she opened a bottle of beer. 

The night was colder than the day, giving off the heat and letting the warmth disappear with the sun, but it was a clear night, the moon bright above, casting moonbeam shadows in the tall grasses and from the fence posts. She could have lived in the city, gotten a place an enjoyed the splendor of her generous paychecks, but Lexa had a need to be near her ponies and to be close to the games. She wouldn’t commute if she didn’t have to, and she wouldn’t allow herself any distractions. 

And then headlights appeared in her driveway, following the gravel up toward the converted cabin. 

She stood and tapped her beer against her thigh as she leaned against the railing, squinting into the light in hopes of figuring out who was going to bug her after a rather long week and an impressive win. 

She wasn’t in a dress. She was in an old jacket and jeans as she shoved her hands in the back pockets and made her way around the car once it turned off. It really was becoming a problem, because every time Lexa saw her, she was distracted. She really didn’t think about the car and how many questions she had about the absolutely devastating piece of machinery. 

Instead, she took another sip and smiled. 

“Congratulations,” Clarke offered. 

“Did you watch?” 

“I didn’t, but I heard.” 

“Good news travels fast.” 

Despite her initial burst of courage, Clarke paused near the stairs, looking up at the polo player, the lights from the glowing windows giving her a little bit of color. Lexa didn’t move to fix the height gap between them, instead, waiting for Clarke to make the moves. It was her porch, but it was Clarke’s rules, and she wasn’t sure she’d trained wilder things than Clarke Griffin, but she was a tamer of beasts. 

“I found you,” Clarke offered, as she took a step. 

“You did. I’m not hard to find though.” 

“I think we should applaud the effort,” Clarke grinned, stepping up another until she was just one below. “I was impressed with your win. You must be happy.” 

“I’m honestly happier that you’re here right now than the trophy.” 

“Are you going to show me your home?” 

“I don’t want to move,” Lexa offered as Clarke stood in front of her now. “I’m afraid you’ll bolt the moment I do.” 

“I showed up. I made the move,” Clarke sighed, looking at her lips. “You have to teach me the rest.” 

“Three conversations for you to fall in love with me,” she grinned, closing the distance and moving so she was touching Clarke, pressed against her front. “I can work with that.” 

“Lust.” 

“For now.”

NEXT

[marvel-random-shiz]

Parkner Halloween Week! Day Seven, October 31 - Trick or Treating, Costumes “Aren’t you a little old?”

It was exactly five o clock when the elevator doors zipped open and two, almost, unrecognisable faces stepped out. Their voices floated throughout the entire top floor of the Avenger Tower and caused Peter to glance up from his unending pile of textbooks, papers and assignments.

“What the hell man?” The first person whined, his short but plump figure easily recognisable to the brunette even though he was wearing a Darth Vader mask and complete outfit with the drapes and light saber.

“Hey Ned...what’re you doing here?” Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly while the cogs turned inside of his small, innocent mind.

“Uh it’s Halloween doofus, duh.” The other figure, clearly MJ, pointed out with the flick of her knotty hair. Peter turned to examine her costume and shuddered a little at the reality of the makeup she wore. Her skin was painted a yellow-green colour with fake blood pouring from cuts across her forehead, mouth and many places on her neck. Dark bags were placed under her eyes and her teeth had been smudged with red to go with all the blood on her ripped black dress. She was the literal embodiment of a zombie.

“Halloween’s tomorrow.” Peter brushed off their accusation and turned back to his work. When he didn’t receive a reply he looked up with pleading eyes, “right?”

“Shit.” MJ cursed when she realised that Peter was being serious. She rolled her eyes before chanting, “shit, shit shit. You forgot Parker! How did you forget Halloween!?”

“I...I don’t know! It just slipped my mind I guess!” Peter smacked his hands against the sides of his head at the revelation before abruptly standing from his chair, “I...gotta go get ready! My costumes in my room, go get Harley! I think he forgot too.”

“Aight but where exactly is Harley?” Ned added before Peter could bolt from the room.

“Uh...he’s...he’s in the lab! Yeah in the lab.” Peter knitted his brows together in order to remember where he last saw Harley or when he had last talked to him before running from the room and not allowing any more questions.

MJ and Ned both ran back to the elevator and hit the ‘down’ button a million times before the doors actually swung open.

Peter skidded down the hallway on his socks until he reached his bedroom door and shoved it open with too much force. It sent the door straight into the wall leaving a huge dent that was sure to earn him a lecture from Tony later on.

“Fuck.” Peter muttered before closing the door behind him and moving across his room to work out his costume. Moments later, with his enhanced hearing, the sounds of footsteps rumbling down the hallway caught Peter’s attention. He smiled to himself at the familiarity of the weight behind the steps, the timing of the heartbeat, the sound of puffing and the all too familiar curse to follow it all.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Peter shook his head in a laugh before diving into his closet to throw his costume on, in as little time as possible seeming as his friends were currently waiting in the living room and most likely being hammered with questions from Tony.

***

Both Ned and MJ snapped their heads up the second steps could be heard in the hallway and saw a shadow emerging. They both thought it could only be Harley or Peter and waited to see who it was. Turns out it was neither.

“Heya kids.” Tony strutted in the room, bringing his carefree attitude with him and an empty coffee cup which he dumped in the dishwasher.

“Hey Mr Stark!” Ned exploded happily before covering his mouth at the squeakiness of his tone. MJ chuckled before mumbling a hello to him then glancing up when more footsteps could be heard in the hallway.

“Surely this is Peter or Harley now, they’ve been like-“ Ned checked the watched hidden under his long, black sleeve before turning back to MJ and keeping his voice at a whisper, “twenty minutes.”

MJ hummed before frowning, “Ned it took you like forty minutes to get ready.”

Ned scoffed before realising Captain America had sauntered into the room, neither Peter nor Harley followed and he sighed. Steve glanced at the two and MJ gave a little salute which made him laugh.

“You’re Peter’s friends?” Steve asked with his usual bright smile and leaned on the kitchen bench beside Tony.

“Yup, I’m Michelle.” MJ introduced herself with a half smile that Steve returned and Ned beamed under his mask.

“And I’m Ned Leeds! Or just Ned...nice to meet you Captain America!”

Steve laughed before glancing at Tony in the corner of his eye who shrugged, “nice to meet you two. Also just Steve’s fine.”

Tony clapped his hands together after a few beats of silence and cheerfully asked, “so what’s with the outfits?”

“It’s Halloween, are you seriously too old to remember. Oh wait, don’t tell me they didn’t have a Halloween when you were a kid? Are you that old Tony, geez.” The obvious voice of Harley Keener filled the room and all heads turned to the doorway to give Harley the dramatic entrance he deserved- or more so wanted.

“I know what Halloween is! You’d better watch that mouth of your Keener or I’ll...” Tony started to threaten the blonde but it slowly faltered before he came up with a typical teenage privelage he could take away, “or I’ll take away your phone!”

Tony crossed his arms proudly over his chest while Harley scoffed, slid onto one of the bar stools and whipped a strand of hair out of his eyes, “I don’t have a phone Tony. I dropped it off the roof the other day, remember?”

Tony snapped his jaw shut and sighed loudly making Harley snicker and turn to Ned and MJ who were examining his outfit and trying to piece together who he was.

His hair was greased back thoroughly, it looked like he put a lot more effort into it than usual, and tucked under a nice black rounded hat. He wore a plain white button up shirt which had fake bullet holes in multiple places with fake blood stained across it. Harley leaned back and flipped the fake gun around in his hand while MJ and Ned scanned his body up and down. He had tight black jeans on with black suspenders that hung loosely over his thin frame along with a bloodied handkerchief poking out of his front pocket of his jeans.

“You’re...dead?” Ned guessed which only made Harley roll his eyes. MJ furrowed her brow while trying to use her detective skills to work out who he was.

“You’ll get it when Peter comes.” Harley briefly told them while folding his arms over his chest and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows.

“Aw you did a couples costume? Cute.” Tony teased and Harley quickly flipped him the middle finger.

Everyone looked a little sceptical but sure enough, as soon as Peter entered the room everyone caught on to what their little ‘couples costume’ was. Peter had a slim black suit on with a white undershirt and an open blazer. His hair was combed back and he had a bullethole in the centre of his forehead along with bloody marks smeared in his perfect suit and shirt. A small handgun was tucked neatly into his waistband and a lit cigarette sat in his mouth along with a bag hanging over his shoulder that looked to be filled with money.

“Sorry I took so long, you guys ready to go?” Peter announced after he took a drag on his cigarette and pulled it out of his mouth to speak. Harley felt his own mouth grow dry just at the sight of him in the fitting suit, abdominals clearer than ever, and quickly swallowed before nodding and accompanying him.

“Oh! I know this!” Steve announced when the two teenagers stood side by side, each matching fearless attitudes and bulletholes scattered across their bodies, “Bonnie and Clyde?” Steve squeezed his eyes hit as if to hope that it wasn’t wrong and wouldn’t receive a punishment.

“You got it!” Harley gave him a wink before leaning over and giving Peter a peck on the cheek. Peter fiddled with his cigarette before delicately putting it back in his mouth and glancing at Tony who looked awestruck.

“Are you guys seriously going trick or treating?”

“Nah, we just like to wander ‘round home in this.” Peter answered sarcastically before adding with more of an annoyed tone, “of course we are!”

“Aren’t you a little old?” Tony asked with a sigh and he raked his hand through his messy hair before glancing up at the four teenagers in front of him.

“No ones too old for trick or treating Mr Stark!” Ned chirped in happily and Harley added with a smirk,

“Maybe just you.”

“Kid I swear-“ Tony began and pointed his finger threateningly at Harley who giggled into Peter’s side.

“Anyway!” MJ announced before clearing her throat loudly and giving a aggressive head nod from Peter to the door.

“Yeah we should probably head out, y’know before all the good stuffs gone.” Peter placed his hands on his hips and brushed the open buttons of his blazer away.

“Good idea,” Harley agreed before making a motion towards the elevator with his thumbs.

“Alright. Okay, have fun! Be safe!” Tony called as the four teenagers escaped his presence, “but not too much fun if ya know what I mean!”

Wide-eyed, the teens quickly slid into the elevator and pretended not to hear Tony’s comment as the doors closed behind them, sealing them off from the adults supervision.

***

Happy had been waiting downstairs to drop the group at a street at random and they agreed that they could walk home seeming as they would most likely be out late. With their pockets stuffed full of candy already, the group trudged onwards toward their next target.

MJ and Ned were snacking on their candy a few steps ahead of Peter and Harley who were hand in hand, just enjoying the others presence.

“I told you this would be a cool costume.” Peter bumped his shoulder against Harley’s who laughed.

“I didn’t doubt you.”

“Yes, you did. You said, and I quote, ‘Peter that is a stupid idea and no one will recognise us’.” Peter scoffed as he swung their intertwined hands back and forth.

“Uh Uh, don’t forget the rest of the story. I did also say, and I quote, ‘I’ll only do it for you because I love you,’” Harley added with a smirk and turned to face Peter who poked his tongue out.

“Still doesn’t mean you didn’t doubt me.” Peter complained earning another laugh from Harley who pulled him aside and stopped them from walking for a moment.

“How ‘bout if I make it up to you? Hm? You want all my candy?” Harley reached inside his jeans pockets and fished out a few chocolates and lollies which he had earned from the previous houses they had been to.

Peter made a thinking face before shaking his head, “I think I need something more...personal than that.”

Harley felt his lips tug upright even further than they had already been and leaned in closer, “personal like a kiss?”

Peter hummed and closed his eyes as Harley moved closer, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist and drawing them closer and closing the gap. When he was just milimetres away he stopped, hesitated, and Peter opened his eyes with his brow furrowed.

“Sorry, I don’t offer those. I guess you’ll have to choose another prize.” Harley shrugged with a shit eating grinnon his face. Peter gave him a light punch on the shoulder,

“That was mean. No that was cruel, Keener. Just cruel.”

Harley only laughed at his succession before actually closing the gap. He smiled and felt Peter run his hands under his hat through his hair, it was at that moment that he knew he loved Peter Parker- he was the Bonnie to his Clyde.

[arthur-morgan-slap-my-ass]

Here Now

Anonymous asked:  I love your writing SO MUCH AAAA ❤️ could I request (either headcanons or a fic, whatever you like!!) reader getting hurt on a mission and trying to hide it but Arthur just sees right through it when they try to shrug it off? I'm all about hurt/comfort, ESPECIALLY with this soft cowboy 👀 thank you!!

Anonymous asked:  Can I request a fic with the "let's get warmed up" trope? With Arthur, please?

A/N: This wasn’t beta’d and I apologize for the long wait! I had a real busy week at uni - one where we had to discuss subjectivity and its effects on time, only to come to the conclusion that the subjectivity is subjective and honestly? I hate philosophy so much. Thank you to @winters-uprise for helping me pick out the angsty ideas for this fic. Either way, here’s a sweet lil thing I put together with a lot of love uwu Excuse my messy writing and please, enjoy!!!

Word Count: 2400+

Summary: near death experience, fussy horses, hypothermia, a tad bit of angst, snowy camp dates and a possible love confession if you squint enough.

There was a moment where your adrenaline spiked, desperation-driven and determined, as you sunk further and further in the water. Your arms agitated feebly around you, trying to gain leverage on the water and pull you back up; but the water was too cold and your winter clothing too heavy now that it was soaked.

You jerked your body, feet kicking at anything you could reach by now — rocks, the riverbed — in a sad attempt not to drown. The river was dark and fast moving as it dragged you through stream with little to no effort; and when you managed to poke your head over the water to gasp for air, all you could hear was the raging of the water, your heartbeat drumming in your ears and Arthur’s desperate shout.

You had been out with the man in some sort of scout mission through Grizzlies West, looking for any signs of Colm O’Driscoll and his gang — Dutch had made a point of going after them, now with all of you comfortably stablished on Horseshoe Overlook, he had brought up the subject once more. Arthur seemed hesitant, like Hosea, but ultimately obliged to it. Agreeing to join him in the scout — at Hosea’s request —, you saddled up and left at first light. The trip had been uneventful, mostly filled with small talk and companionable silence.  Arthur was easy enough to be around, with his brooding personality and witty comments here and there.

Out by Beartooth Beck, a little over Cattail Pond, with the setting sun and temperatures dropping just as fast, you had both decided it was time to setup camp and keep tracking for another day or two before heading back to Horseshoe. There hadn’t been any conclusive evidence of the O’Driscolls so far and you were highly doubtful there was gonna be any; but kept your thoughts to yourself. Arthur suggested setting camp on a clearance he had spotted a couple miles back, and so you turned your horse and followed him.

Halfway across the path, though, just as you crossed the river, your horse got unsettled with the depth of it. The stream moved fast and for some reason, your mare had always taken it unkindly to water — especially chest-deep. It all happened at a moment’s notice, the hooves slipping on the loose river bed, your horse rearing and you losing your balance, Arthur’s yell and then freezing cold.

There was the steady thumping of horse hooves on your right and you saw Arthur kicking his steed faster as he tried to catch up with you. You tried waved your arms feebly at him, screaming for help.

“Try to hold onto somethin’!,” he called to you, voice ringing louder than the raging water, “c’mon, c’mon!” The horse complained, but acquiesced to Arthur’s brutal pace as he urged it to go even faster.

Doing your best to stay afloat despite the weight of your soaked winter coat and boots, you tried to steer your way towards the round-looking boulders on the riverside. Hell-bent on surviving, you really didn’t want a bloody fucking river to kill you—

Your body slammed against the well-rounded rock violently, hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs, gloved hands feebly scratching at its smooth surface for a small indent, anything that could keep you from being dragged down the river—

Arthur took a hold of your forearm, gasping at the coolness of the icy water; snowflakes clinging to his face and clothes as he pulled you out of the water stream considerably easily.

“Shit,” he gasped, cheeks bright red as he shrugged off the blue winter coat, “take it off, c’mon.”

With shivering hands, you tried to undo the fastenings of your jacket, breath coming out in shallow puffs from your trembling lips; the harsh wind only worsening your state as you constantly failed on getting rid of your soaked clothing.

“Here,” Arthur offered himself, already down to his shirt and waistcoat, “I’ll do it.” His hands worked fast, almost in a frenzy, as he peeled the fur coat from your arms, flinging it to the side and moving to your shirt without sparing a glance to your chest. A tremor passed your body and you closed your eyes, aching deep to the core of your bones at how cold you were. “No, no,” Arthur tapped at your face gently, getting you to look at him, “eyes open, c’mon.”

You nodded, feeling him drape the warm jacket over your shoulders and wrap it around your shivering body. “Gloves,” he demanded hastily, getting up to unbuckle the furry wolf chaps as you struggled to remove the wool mittens and Arthur came back, holding the canvas of his tent and the sleeping bag, making quick work of spreading it on the snow next to you and willing you to move onto it. “Let’s get you warmed up, nice n easy.”

Your teeth clattered incessantly, your body unable to stop its shivering; even as Arthur put the canvas around your body. “I’m f-fu-fucking f-freezing…”

“I know, I know,” the man shushed you gently, taking off your moccasins and unbuttoning your pants. Part of you wanted to be embarrassed, ashamed of it, but Arthur displayed no interest besides getting you warmed up as fast as possible. He instructed you to lay down on the sleeping bag, helping you wiggle into the chaps fairly easily; hands calloused and warm. “Stay still, a’ight?”

You heard footsteps crunching the snow next to you, the huffing of a horse — you supposed Arthur’s — and he came back, looking apologetic, almost guilty. “Gotta move, sweetheart.” Before you could react the man scooped you up in his arms, holding you gently to his warm chest, the puffing of his breath creating little clouds of steam in the cold air. “Now, up ya go.”

He helped you up on the saddle, draping he woolen sleeping bag around your shoulders and you held back a pained whimper as the left side of your body burned with white hot pain before Arthur settled behind you, his arms securely wrapping around your waist. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you lied through your teeth, sinking at the saddle as Arthur spurred his horse onwards, towards a small group of trees. “I’m fine.”

Arthur’s shoulders shook with a humorless laugh, but besides that, he didn’t say anything else. You still shivered, clutching at his winter jacket as the horse trudged through the snow. You didn’t really know what to say, nor what to think of the whole situation — it wasn’t like you weren’t grateful he had saved your life, but his desperation… there was something about it that you couldn’t quite place your finger on. You still felt on the edge, your ribs hurting terribly and teeth clattering as you did your best not to slip off of the saddle.

“We gotta get you warmed up,” Arthur rumbled behind you, breath coming warm against your cheek, “real quick, before it gets dark.” You looked up at the sky, the setting sun low on the horizon as if only realizing now. Arthur’s horse huffed, nodding its head in complaint to the cold.

“M-my horse,” you startled, “w-w-where—“

“She’s fine,” he calmed you down, voice gentle and low, “she’s right behind us. Calm down.”

With a shaky breath, you slouched back against him; trying to bask in his warmth. Your teeth still clattered, the sensitivity in your fingertips all but gone. Trying not look back at him, you focused on the path he seemed to be directing the both of you — a small group of trees over on a hill, enough to both keep you sheltered from the cold and to allow a campsite.

By the time you got there and Arthur had started a fire — after digging in the snow and finding the right rocks to put around the campfire — and put on your tent, you were shivering uncontrollably. Doing his best to warm you up slowly, he had taken the small liberty of setting the tent reasonably close to the fire, busying himself with brewing some coffee to make sure you’d have something to warm yourself with.

Sitting there, still wrapped in his clothes and the canvas of his tent, you watched his back to you, pulling a little more tightly at his bandana around your face. It really did smell like him — a good leathery smell, some remaining aftershave and campfire smoke. To protect your face, he had said, wrapping the piece of cloth around your neck and tugging it up, watch for frostbite.

With a sigh, the man got up, making his way back into the tent and beside you. He had taken his hat off, opting for keep his gloves on. “Here you go, drink this. Nice n easy, yeah?”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, taking hold of the aluminum cup with both your hands, basking in the glory of the hot beverage. Arthur nodded, looking out to the campfire with an expression you could only read as dark and brooding. Was he mad at you? So far, the man had seem nothing but kind; but again, you could only guess he was doing his best to keep you alive. That didn’t mean he had to get along with you.

Sipping at the coffee, you quietly downed it, and Arthur poured you a second one with a small dosage of whiskey to work up a little fire inside. Feeling better, but still undeniably cold, you sighed; watching the small cloud coming out of your mouth.

“We should go back,” Arthur spoke, not looking at you, “I knew this whole thing was a terrible idea. We’re going back, first thing tomorrow.”

Looking up at him beside you, you waited for him to speak up again before opening your mouth. “We couldn’t know what was going to happen.”

“I—,” he protested, twisting a small piece of twig in his hand, ultimately shutting up.

The wind howled outside and you guessed there must’ve started snowing and once more, were thankful for Arthur’s quick thinking. Downing the remnants of your drink, you felt the well welcomed burning sensation of winter coffee down your throat. The side of your body felt sore and sensitive and you wanted to just curl on yourself and see if it’d heal — you couldn’t come to Arthur with it, there had been already too much he had done for you, and so you decided to deal with it on your own.

“We should get some sleep,” Arthur determined quietly, shifting in the tent with a tired sigh, “got a long way back tomorrow. Yer clothes should be dry by then,” you eyed your outfit draped over a couple boulders next to the bonfire, “if not, you can keep those ‘till we get to Horseshoe.”

Frowning, you ignored as he fussed around in the tent for a good position. Normally, you’d both put up your own tents — or use both the canvas to make a bigger one to try and chase off the cold. You weren’t annoyed by his presence, though; more like guilty, feeling bad for having him babysit you when he had nothing to do with it. Arthur was kind, you decided. Perhaps way too kind.

“Don’t think too hard,” his voice came from behind you, low but clear, “or else yer gonna burn the little brain you still have.” Arthur seemed please with his joke, peering at you from below the edge of his hat with a lazy grin. “Get some rest.”

“Sure,” you replied, starting to look for a good way to lay down without hurting your bruised side. Arthur made way, because of course he did; and you did your best settle down beside him, only barely hissing at the small shot of pain.

“You still cold?,” he asked, genuinely worried.

“A bit,” it wasn’t a lie per see, you were cold, and supposed it only worsened the condition of your bruising. “but just a little.”

Arthur stayed quiet for a moment, only the wind and crackling of the firewood a few feet away to be heard before he spoke up, “scoot closer, then.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Don’t give me that look,” he complained, shutting his eyes with little to no concern. “Scoot closer n don’t hog the blanket.” Gnawing on your lower lip, you weighed your options. The wind howled outside, almost dulling out the gentle crackling of the firewood a few feet away from the tent. “C’mon, now,” Arthur sighed, throwing the blanket over your body and settling against you, your head tucked comfortably under his chin, “‘s just body heat.”

Feeling flustered and embarrassed, you obliged; pretending not to enjoy too much the warmth the man behind you provided. Within no time the shivering died out, the cold pushed aside by Arthur to make way for the hopeful promise of a dreamless sleep. You were tired, yes, not so cold; and most of all, grateful to be alive.

“Thank you,” you finally whispered to Arthur, expecting him to be asleep, “you saved my life today.” Suddenly, an arm wrapped itself around your torso; not enough to hurt your bruised side, hesitant and gentle in its movements. “Arthur?,” you called, trying to ignore the burning in your cheeks. He didn’t answer, instead simply pulling you closer to his chest, deliberately avoiding the area where you had been hit; his hand slowly caressing your forearm, and you somehow knew he was aware of your injury. Arthur could tell. He could always tell.

“I was…,” his voice rasped out, somewhat strangled and barely above a whisper, “I thought I was gonna lose you too, today,” Arthur confessed, now pressing his face to the crown of your head, “I got so afraid, I—”

You allowed the silence to stretch a bit, basking in the gentleness he offered so free-handedly. It wasn’t surprising to you, but it pleased to see this softer side directed at you. “I’m here now,” you spoke finally, allowing your head to lol back against him, “I’m alive.”

“I know,” Arthur replied and pressed a small kiss to the top of your head, “but that doesn’t mean it didn’t get to me.”

“You don’t have to worry,” was all you could say, feeling the blush creep to your neck and the words tumble out of your mouth.

The man breathed deeply and you could feel the fluttering of his exhale on your hair. “It’d be hard not to, sweetheart.”

[logansanderslove]

Logan 3.0  (9/?)

CO-AUTHOR: @demented-dukey

Summary: Remus is an incorrigible flirt, and Logan can only bear the innuendo for so long until something has to give. Passions erupt, but there are more lasting repercussions than either could have predicted, including a significant transformation to Logan himself! How will these new changes affect the delicate balance of Thomas’s mental state? When a new dark side threatens the lives of several of the other sides, will Logan and Remus’s love be strong enough to save everyone, including Thomas?

Ships: INTRULOGICAL

Sanders Sides: Logan, Remus, Thomas, Roman, Virgil, Patton, Deceit

Fic type: Drama, Romantic, Action, Flirty

Trigger Warnings: no character deaths, but a lot of very close calls. Consensual knife play and blood play, and lots of bloody fighting and monster attacks. If you’re sensitive to unsympathetic characters, some parts flirt pretty close to that, but there’s also a lot of extenuating circumstances to explain the situation, and there’s a happy ending once you get through the angst and misunderstandings. Self-harm and references to such, and suicidal tendencies.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 9: Into The Unknown

Roman awoke to Patton frantically shaking him awake, “Ro? Ro! Logan’s gone! I went to his room to check on him this morning, and he wasn’t there!”

“Hmm? Wha?” Roman blinked groggily. He looked across the room to his couch, where Logan was beginning to stir. “He’s... there,” said Roman, gesturing vaguely in the right direction.

Patton followed the gesture, “Oh! Logan! There you are! I got so worried when I couldn’t find you, and I was afraid you’d already gone into the subconscious alone! I thought I was too late.” He noticed Roman’s pile of weapons against the wall, and set a wrapped bundle down next to them. “I figured you guys might be headed into the subconscious today, so I got up early and packed some food for you. There’s some snacks for Remus too, if… when… you find him.”

Roman smiled. "Thanks, Pat. You're the best." He said, then he glanced over at Logan with a sigh. "We have to find Remus, Pat. I don't know what it'll do to Logan if we don't." He then shrugged. "But we're ready for what the Subconscious has to offer."

Patton nodded, then glanced over at Logan, who was still asleep. He raised his eyebrow. "Is he wearing boots? And a ripped shirt? What happened to our spiffy Logic?" Patton asked, and Roman stretched with a groan. 

"He's not just Logic anymore, Patton. He's also Anger. But more than that, he's hurt and he's determined. And as Neutral side, he’s a complete badass now."

Patton sighed. "Yeah, I know. I just hope you guys'll be okay." He said worriedly, but Roman's hand on his shoulder calmed him.

"I'll watch out for him, Pat. Now, I should wake him up so we can get going. Say goodbye to Virge and Dee for us, please?"

Patton nodded. "Of course. Good luck."

He left Roman's room, the Prince then standing up and walking over to the couch, crouching next to Logan. "Hey, Lo. Time to get up."

Logan groaned. "Nghh, Re, I don't wanna get up...." he murmured, bringing a small snicker from Roman.

"I'm not Remus, now wake up." Roman said as he pulled Logan off the couch, the intellectual's eyes shooting open as he hit the floor. He glared up at Roman, then he sighed at Roman's smile.

"Okay, I'm awake. Let's get going."

Arming themselves to face the unknown, Roman lead the way from his room, taking a shortcut through the Imagination and into the Subconscious. Logan shivered as the temperature dropped and the world turned dim. The sky grew overcast and the wind picked up, making his coat flap dramatically.

“I am so in awe of you right now,” Roman admitted, finding it more difficult than he’d predicted to keep his eyes peeled for danger and off of his brother’s suddenly-hot boyfriend. At Logan’s eyebrow raise, Roman hastily said, “Platonic awe, obviously.”

Logan hummed but let it drop. He held a notebook that he’d copied Roman’s childhood maps into, and he made little marks and notations as they walked, confirming their position and updating the chart with any similarities and differences he could pick out from the landscape.

They passed a large lake, the murky water concealing what lay beneath and bubbling ominously in places. “Remus loved this spot.” Roman grinned, waving a hand at the lake. “There’s a kraken or something that he would feed and talk to. I only saw it a couple times, but it was big.”

Logan shivered, grimacing at the rippling water. It wasn’t that long ago that the question of what was really at the bottom of the ocean had been his biggest fear, and he didn’t want to imagine what kind of ghoulish creatures might make this lake their home.

Entering a forested area, Roman paused as a threatening hiss came out of the darkness. “I may have forgotten about the ROUSes,” said Roman, holding his sword and shield at the ready as he scanned the trees.

“Rodents of Unusual Size?” Logan said, tucking the notebook into his shirt and brandishing his sword and dagger. “I don’t think they exist.” he quipped.

Logan was suddenly barreled to the ground by a blur, his sword knocked from his hand. His eyes were wide as he forced back the gnashing teeth of the giant rodent that pinned him down. He turned his head to see Roman fighting off two more, then he felt a pair of teeth sink into his arm. He shouted in pain, grabbing his dagger and plunging it into the ROUS's neck, but not before it slashed a good size gash in his side. Logan pushed the whining body off of him, standing up shakily and grabbing his sword, then he placed his foot on top of the rodent's body and thrust his sword down angrily, then again, a hard breath escaping through his gritted teeth. His narrowed eyes lessened as he stepped back, raising his gaze to a wide eyed Roman. He shrugged wearily. 

"Guess they do exist." He stumbled slightly, barely righting himself as he planted his sword in the ground.

Roman reached out to steady Logan, “You gonna be okay?” Only his experience with fighting the beasts before had allowed him to escape the tousle unscathed, and he was worried about Logan’s wounds.

“Fine,” Logan gritted his teeth and concentrated. The wound in his side healed from an open gash to a thinner, angry scratch - instead of taking the time and energy to heal it completely, Logan decided to save his strength and push onwards.

Roman gave him one more chance to back out, “It’s only gonna get worse from here on out.”

“We need to find Remus.” Logan said, then quietly continued, “I need to find Remus.” Roman nodded, and they trudged deeper into the forest.

As they passed various landmarks, Roman told stories about Remus and their childhood exploits together. Some trees still carried the scars of Remus’s morningstar, while other stumps served as testament to Roman’s swords and axes. Occasionally they would find knives and ninja stars embedded in trees and rocks, rusted over with time.

Logan glanced to the side at Roman. "So, when was the last time you two were here fighting monsters together? I mean, it seems like something you both really enjoyed, and it also seems like something you're both good at." He flipped his dagger around in his hand as he walked, spinning it to keep his ever restless body from twitching. "So, why did you stop?"

“It got harder, as Thomas grew up, to find time to come down here.” Regret filled Roman’s voice as he continued scouting out the land ahead for danger. “The last time we were here together… must’ve been around the early days of Vine. Once Thomas’s videos got popular, he needed me more often to keep creating new content, and I couldn’t seem to find time to get away. A couple of times I tried to make time, y’know, to schedule a vacation, but other things kept coming up and I’d have to cancel, and after a while I stopped trying. What little free time I managed to get was spent in the Imagination creating new dreams for Thomas, and I got so busy I didn’t notice Remus slipping away.”

Logan and Roman were both quiet for a moment, then Logan turned his head. "He still loves you, you know."

Roman's eyes went wide. "Wait, really?" He said with surprise. 

Logan nodded. "Of course. You're his brother. He'd do anything for you. That's why he left. He didn't want to hurt either one of us." He said, his voice cracking a little. He then shook his head. "But we'll find him. I know we will." He said with determination.

Roman nodded, then something far off caught Logan's attention. He heard a slight whisper, and his eyes widened when he heard the voice of his lover. He sprinted off, not even alerting Roman that he had left. Running through the trees as he grew closer to the sound, he whipped his head every which way. 

"Remus!!" He called out. "REMUS!!" His voice was frantic, pained, then a crack behind him made him turn. His eyes went wide with fear, then everything went black.

~

Roman didn’t notice when Logan ran off. He did, however, notice several seconds later when he heard heavy footsteps running up behind him. Whirling around, Roman’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of Deceit racing full-speed towards him. He raised his sword in defense, unsure if this was really Deceit or some monster in disguise preparing to attack him.

He was leaning towards “Real Deceit” when the side in question didn’t slow down, sprinting past him with a disgruntled “Please don’t keep up” tossed over his shoulder.

Roman blinked, shook his head, and took off after Deceit, hot on his heels. It was at this moment he realized they were chasing a black-clad figure with a significant head start. “I didn’t notice him start running.” Roman said, panting as he hefted his sword and shield. Logan had been right - the shield wasn’t really built for speed.

“Obviously,” Dee shot back. Up ahead, the figure was calling out for Remus.

Roman considered leaving his shield behind, but he had a feeling he was going to need it. “Been following us long?”

“Long enough.” Deceit said, “Is Logan trying to get himself killed?”

Roman grunted, “I told him that we should stick together.”

“FUCK,” Deceit stopped in his tracks. He thrust out an arm to stop Roman, who almost didn’t stop in time and nearly got clotheslined. “What is that?”

Up ahead, a creature formed out of the darkness, black smoke condensing into a shape at least ten stories tall. The monster was some horrifying mutant of Godzilla with a scorpion tail and spider legs thrown in for funzies. It was times like these when Roman would have deeply preferred facing down a simple manticore-chimera. “It’s the Nightmare Fuel.” Roman muttered, because of course Logan would run headlong into one of the worst terrors of the subconscious. The day had been going so well after all. “I don’t remember it being that big though, or having that many limbs.”

Deceit shot a terrified look at Roman, who stared grimly back. Roman was just cupping his hands around his mouth to call out a warning when the beast attacked Logan, swiping at him with a massive claw that caused Logan to go flying limply to the ground. He didn’t get back up.

Roman began running again, Deceit fast behind, but it was too late. The fiend picked up Logan and was bounding away faster than the sides could run. Between one blink of the eye and the next, it was gone.

Roman froze, horrified. Deceit was cursing, shaking his head.

"Dammit, dammit DAMMIT!" He growled, then he spun to face Roman, so flustered that his lies disappeared. "Okay. We desperately need to find him. What do you think is going to happen to Logic if he's caged by the Nightmare Fuel? Nothing good. So let's move, and try not to get killed, Roman. I wouldn't exactly enjoy explaining that to Patton." His voice was stern and Roman nodded quickly. He'd never forgive himself if Logan was lost. So he followed Deceit further into the Subconscious in search of the Neutral side.

~

Logan groaned, shifting as he opened his eyes, flinching at the immense pain his entire body was in. He could feel blood running down the side of his head and he glanced around, eyebrow rising at the darkened cavern he appeared to be in. Spinning around, he found he was up against a wall, cold stone like the floor. He let out a hard breath as he put a hand to it.

"Damn..." He muttered.

"Logan!" Thomas’s voice echoed in small space.

Logan bolted to his feet and spun around, drawing his sword instinctively, then his eyes widened when he saw Thomas and the others rush into the cave. He let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Newton, it’s good to see you all."

“Logan!” Patton cried, throwing his arms around the nerdy side. “I was SO AFRAID that we’d lost you! Roman called us as soon as you went missing, and we searched and searched…”

Virgil patted Logan on the shoulder, “I’m just glad we found you, dude. You’re looking a little worse for wear.”

Logan wiped some of the blood away from his face with his sleeve, leaning against Patton gratefully. “I admit, the subconscious has proven to be more hazardous than I anticipated.” He looked at Roman, “I heard Remus’s voice - did you find him?”

Roman shook his head sadly, “No, it wasn’t really his voice - just a trap of the Nightmare Fuel to lure you in.”

“Nightmare Fuel?” Logan gaped, “I thought you said we didn’t want to tussle with that?”

Roman laughed, “Not exactly something we could avoid when you were making a bee-line towards it. We’re just lucky it took you to its cave and wandered off, otherwise this rescue would be a lot bloodier.”

“Speaking of,” Virgil said, an anxious tone entering his voice, “We should really get out of here before that thing comes back.”

“Eep, yes!” Thomas said, ducking under Logan’s arm to help support his weight. Between Thomas and Patton, they helped Logan out of the subconscious, with Roman taking the lead and Virgil watching their backs. They managed to get back to the Light Side’s common room without running into any more monsters, and Logan breathed a sigh of relief as he was lowered onto the couch.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over.” Thomas said, stretching his arms over his head.

Logan didn’t want to admit it, but he was glad to be safely back home as well. “Roman and I covered a lot of ground today, before the unfortunate incident. Now that I have a better idea of what to expect, we should be able to do even better tomorrow.” He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on healing his wounds, but the power didn’t come. Logan sighed - this must be part of what Roman had meant about spending too much time in the subconscious draining your powers. He’d rest and finish healing in the morning when his energy had been restored.

“Oof, Tomorrow?” Roman said, screwing up his face in contemplation, “No can do, pocket protector.”

Logan looked up, startled by Roman’s dismissal, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, Thomas has videos I need to work on. We can’t let down our fans or risk Thomas’s career just ‘cause Remus is throwing a temper tantrum.” Roman held up his hands in a “what can you do” shrug.

Blinking in confusion, Logan said, “I’d say that this is more serious than a ‘temper tantrum’. Surely the fans will understand if there is a delay - they’ve always been supportive of Thomas taking the time for his mental health in the past.”

“Yeaaaah,” Virgil said, “But, we don’t wanna take advantage of that, y’know? Fame is fickle, and Thomas has already had several breakdowns in the last few days. We should probably put the whole “Remus” thing on hold.”

Logan couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “We-we can’t put ‘the whole Remus thing’ on hold! What are you talking about?” he searched the others’ faces, and realized with a sinking sensation how unconcerned they all looked. “We’ve got to get back out there! Remus is in danger every second he’s gone, and it’s only a matter of time before he is destroyed!”

Patton nodded slowly, “You’re right, Logan.”

“Thank you!” Finally, some sense. Logan felt the tension drain from his shoulders. He’d just misunderstood, that’s all. He was never good at reading emotions, that was always Patton’s thing...

“It’s only a matter of time until Remus is destroyed.” Patton said, his voice oddly cheerful. “So, we should probably get used to the idea as quickly as possible!”

Logan stared at him in shock.

“Hey!” Roman suddenly said, “Do you think I’ll be even stronger once Remus finally dies? I mean, if he’s no longer controlling part of Creativity, that power’s gotta be redirected back to me, right?”

Virgil nodded, “Yeah, makes sense. And it’ll make my job easier now that he’s no longer around to make dangerous suggestions, so I’ll probably get a power boost, too. Really, his leaving was for the best all around.”

“I don’t think-” Logan started.

“No.” Thomas said firmly, cutting him off, “You don’t think. That’s your problem, Logan - ever since this “relationship” started with Remus, you haven’t been thinking. I can’t trust your judgement anymore.” Thomas chuckled, and the sound made Logan’s blood run cold. “I should have known you were never going to find Remus. You were always the most useless side.”

Logan felt his mouth open and close several times, speechless.

“I’ll give you this,” Thomas continued, “You were right about my Logic needing a few changes. I've talked it over with Patton,” he held out a hand, and Patton snuggled into Thomas’s side, beaming up into his face, “and we both think Morality should take over my logical thinking now.”

Words. Logan couldn’t find the words. This was wrong, this was wrong, but Logan was frozen, watching as the other sides stood next to Thomas, offering the host their full support. “But-but what about Anger?”

“I’ll take over that.” Virgil smiled, and there were more teeth on display than Logan remembered seeing before. “Flight or fight is kinda my thing, after all. So really, I should have taken over Thomas’s anger in the first place.” he clapped Logan on the shoulder, nearly knocking him off the couch, “Don’t look so down in the dumps, Lo! I hear oblivion’s nice this time of year!”

“See?” Thomas said, grinning. “I don't need you anymore, the others have got this! You always held me back anyway.”

“Held you back?” Logan said weakly.

Roman nodded, "If not for you pushing Thomas towards a useless chemical engineering degree, he would be further in his acting career by now. He could be a movie star! A household name! It's your fault that he's still a struggling YouTuber, when he could be so much more."

“Et tu, Brutus?” Logan said, feeling more betrayed than ever. He’d been bonding with Roman over Remus’s disappearance, and he’d thought they’d built some respect over the last few days. It didn’t compute, Logan didn’t understand what had changed, why they were all acting like this, and fear was making his cognitive gears grind to a halt. 

Roman’s eyes sparkled, “Hey, that’s a good idea! And a fitting end for you, if I do say so myself.” He waved his hand, and a collection of swords and knives appeared in each of the others’ hands. “I think 23 times is traditional - what do you guys think?” The others nodded in approval, admiring their weapons, and terror washed through Logan.

“Stop this. We can talk this out-” Suddenly a flash of steel stopped him and he jerked back, crying out and holding his bleeding arm gingerly, snapping his head up to see Thomas's eyes turn down, the sword he held now tinted red. “Please! Stop!” Logan yelped, shrinking away from them. "Guys, it's ME! LOGAN! We can still work through this!" 

Patton chuckled, then seconds later he was directly in front of Logan. "Oh, Lo. You're so naive." He said casually, causing Logan's eyes to go wide, then he choked as Patton thrust a knife deep into his side. Patton roughly jerked the knife back out, and Logan grasped his side tightly with gritted teeth. His breath grew hard, watching as the others all drew their swords and advanced on him. He shook his head, scrambling off the couch and away from them, but there was nowhere to run.

"No...no..." His voice was barely a whisper as tears came to his eyes, his true worst fear revealing itself; his friends and family turning on him. He was still wearing his own sword, his hand squeezing the grip tight, but as much as he knew he needed to defend himself, he couldn't bring himself to strike back. He refused to hurt the others.

So he took hit after hit, either with blades or fists or boots. Soon he lay gasping against the wall, shuddering in pain, covered in blood, his mouth filled with the metallic taste he so desperately was trying to ignore, his built up emotions starting to manifest. The others disappeared, then a familiar voice called his name. 

"LOGAN!!" Logan's eyes darted to the side from holding his knees to his chest to lay eyes on Roman followed by one clear Deceit. He frowned. The room had gotten cold, as cold as the cave had been, but that was probably the blood loss setting in...

"Come back to hurt me again?" He spat, shaking his head. "Stop hurting me..." He murmured through the blood dripping from his mouth.

Roman's eyes went wide, glancing at Deceit who held the same reaction. The Deceitful side took one step forward.

"Logan, please do not listen to us." He started, but Logan shook his head again, his blood stained hands clenching around the dirtied cloth of his pants.

"Stop hurting me!!" Logan shouted, his voice starting to echo a bit. Deceit took a step back with wide eyes. 

"Uh oh."

Roman's eyes went wide. "Uh oh? What do you mean, uh oh?!" He cried, then he started forward, reaching his hand out. "Logan...it's okay. It's me..." Roman said, but as soon as his hand touched Logan's shoulder, the other side jerked.

"I SAID STOP HURTING ME!!!!" He screeched, the cave rumbling and the entire Mindscape shaking. Logan's eyes had washed over with red, and Deceit shook his head.

"This is not very, very bad indeed." He said in concern, and Roman glanced at him. 

"What's happening?!"

Deceit bit his lip, keeping eye contact with Logan. "He's turned into Fury."

Roman's eyes went wide, then he shook his head. "No...no, Logan can't-" His words failed him as he saw the absolute hate in his friend's eyes.

Roman and Deceit took a step back from Logan in fear, the Dark Side glaring at them. Logan scoffed.

"What, are you two afraid of me?" His eyes narrowed further. "You should be. You should be very scared." He said as a devious smirk twitched the corners of his mouth up. A black sword suddenly materialized in his hand, gleaming in the darkened cavern. Logan's eyes were completely red, and when he grinned his mouth was full of sharp glinting teeth. 

Deceit took Roman's hand and started to drag him back. "Roman, we need to stay. NOW."

Roman nodded quickly, sprinting towards the mouth of the cave, hearing the echoing footsteps behind them. Deceit pulled Roman along, dashing out of the dark hollow, quickly scanning the area around for the dreaded creature that had gotten them into this mess, then they ran. 

Deceit felt a twinge of regret pulling Roman away from Logan and leaving the prior Logic alone in an environment where he could easily be swallowed up, like he already had. 

But Deceit knew exactly how dangerous Fury could be. He knew better than any of the Sides. He had absolutely dreaded the day that Fury would be released and although he was glad that it was Logan who got saddled with him, he had known that the intellectual side wouldn't be able to hold it back forever.

Roman continued to glance back over his shoulder, eyes wide as he watched Logan hot on their heels. He snapped his head around to Deceit.

"What the hell do we DO?! He's trying to kill us, so is everything else out here, and we still have no idea where the hell my brother is!!! WHAT DO WE DO, DEE?!" He screeched, and Deceit bit his lip, hesitant about telling Roman that his brother was safe as could be back in Dee's room, but he couldn't.

Deceit shook his head, too flustered to fib. "I have no idea. We just have to try to find someplace we can pause and think. How close is he?" Deceit asked, and Roman glanced over his shoulder, then his eyes went wide and he stopped running. Deceit stopped, staring at him with wide eyes. "Roman, what are you doing?!"

Roman shook his head. "He's gone. He was just right behind us." He stated, bringing confusion from Deceit. The snake-face looked back, and sure enough, no Logan. The two met eyes, then turned around to see Logan leaning against a tree, poking the tip of his sword with his finger, staring directly at them with burning eyes, the area around them black, almost like Virgil's eye shadow but all the way around his eyes, and not nearly as vibrant. 

Logan grinned, the blood in his mouth tainting his teeth red. "A valiant effort, trying to run." He turned his gaze directly to Deceit. "Dee, you should know by now that you can't hide from me. You can't run. So why not just face me?" He shrugged. "Sure, you'll die, but why not get the tragedy over with?" He said with a small chuckle. "Make my job a whole hell of a lot easier."

Backing away, Deceit grabbed Roman’s arm, “Dragon witches! As many as you can make! NOW!”

Roman cast out his hands, and a three dozen dragons burst into life around them, flapping wings in a riot of colors, screaming and breathing fire and swarming around Logan. Logan screamed furiously, his demonic screech ripping through the air.

The roar echoed far and wide. In the Mindscape, Patton and Virgil looked at each other, frozen in terror. Inside Deceit’s panic room, the howl caused Remus to race to the door, desperate to find his lover. Unable to escape, Remus turned feral, ripping apart everything he could put his hands on and attacking the door with every weapon he could manifest, to no avail. In real life, Thomas began to break down once again, clutching his head and rocking back and forth.

Back in the subconscious, Logan was viciously attacking and slaughtering the dragons one by one, but Deceit didn’t stick around to watch the carnage. Yanking Roman behind a small outcropping of rock, Deceit used his own powers to shape-shift their appearance, blending the two sides into just another stone in the wasteland. They huddled together, too scared to move or breathe as the sounds of wings and fire and screams died down.

Finally, there was silence. Roman, exhausted and drained from using so much of his Creative energy at once, resisted the urge to glance over the rock to see what happened. What if the dragons had been too much for Logan? What if, right now, their friend was lying a few feet away, dead and fried to a crisp? He would never forgive himself for killing Logan.

Deceit kept a tight grip on Roman’s arm, using all his energy towards the subterfuge. There was no point in holding anything back, this was it, this was a matter of life or death. If his powers of misdirection failed them now, Logan would kill them and that would be it.

A throaty chuckle filled the air. “Nice distraction,” Logan purred, and they heard footsteps slowly circle the area. “While the cat’s busy, the mice ran for the hills. But don’t think you can get away from me that easily.” Logan walked past the rock, and Deceit’s heart stopped… but the illusion held and Logan continued past, not noticing the enchantment.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Logan sing-sang, walking a little further away. Neither Deceit nor Roman dared move a muscle.

After a few more minutes of circling the area, Logan seemed to give up, “Bored now. You wanna hide like rats, I’ll let the subconscious get rid of you like the vermin you are. It’s about time I had a little sit down with Thomas anyways. Let him know how things are going to work from here on out.”

Logan stalked away, but Deceit continued to keep still, squeezing Roman’s arm to do the same. If Logan was headed for Thomas, they should warn Patton and Virgil. But it was equally likely that Logan was setting a trap, pretending to leave with the intention of flushing out Roman and Deceit, only to destroy them as soon as them came out of hiding. Praying that he was making the right choice, Deceit continued to hide, holding up the illusion and waiting to make sure Logan had left.

What seemed like an eternity later of absolute silence, Deceit finally released Roman's arm and he fell back against the rock, breathing hard but quietly, his head reeling. Roman leaned against his shoulder, drained. The Prince glanced at Deceit after a moment.

"Dee, what do we do?! We have to warn the others!! Logan is going to kill them!!" He hissed, and Deceit grit his teeth.

"I'm well aware of what is at stake, Roman, but we have to think this through. Logan could just be trying to put us back on the chopping block, and as soon as we go out there he'll cut us down."

Roman clenched his fists. "We have to risk it. Logan is far away, we both saw him walking, and we need to get to the others." He sighed. "Dammit, I wish I knew where my brother was. We could sure use his help, I bet he could find some way to get to Logan..." He muttered.

Deceit bit his lip, hesitating, then he sighed. "Remus is not safe, trust me. He...I don't know where he is." he said reluctantly. Roman's eyes grew wide. 

"You know where he is?!"

Deceit nodded. "He is not...*ahem*...locked in a secret bunker that is tied to my room." He coughed, and Roman froze. 

"Wait, so Remus was safe in your room this whole time that Lo and I were looking for him?! We didn't have to come out here at all?!" He cried, hopefully not too loudly. Deceit flinched.

"You two didn’t leave before I could tell you! I was not going to try to stop you!!" He then shook his head, standing up and offering Roman his hand. "We mustn’t try to warn the others before Logan gets to them. Come on. We’re too weak to flash back, so we have to try to get there as fast as we can."

Roman grasped Deceit's hand and was lifted to his feet, glancing over towards where the fight had ensued and flinching at the horrendous bloody mess that met his eyes. 

Merciless, vicious, and sickeningly cruel. Logan had slaughtered every single monster with ease, and he hadn't batted an eye.

Roman closed his eyes, his grip tightening on his sword, then he turned to Deceit. "Alright. Let's go." He determined, and Deceit twitched his head. 

"This way."

They began to run through the dense and dark area, praying that they would reach the others before Logan did, and also that Logan wouldn't seize an opportunity to pounce on them like the prey they had become.

[demytasse]

[Shinra & Izaya/Izashin] Shouldered Responsibility

This is more of a friendship fic, but there are hints of izashin if you wish to see it, whiiich I kind of do despite my purpose for the fic.

—

    There was this one time that Izaya had to patch Shinra up for a change...

...rather, that wasn't true. There was this second-time Izaya had to patch Shinra up, and luckily the incident was far less fatal and merely bled minutes from their lunch break. 

It was in highschool, years past the middle school incident; all due to unfortunate timing — in circumstance of Shizuo's wrath, Izaya's mockery, and Shinra's stage left entrance onto the rooftop. Sometimes that's all it takes to become the victim of an airborne pole ripped from its chainlink. Though, it was better to describe the weaponised school property as a blunt javelin, the end cap rounded and smooth, the only bit of fortune that could be taken from the happenstance. And it was Shizuo that played the role of misfortune, with the extra amount of umph he thrust into his windup, furthermore into the lance, all the while Shinra struggled with doubled blindsight, and a complete lack of foresight.

    "Gack!"

The collision was quick, but from Izaya’s point of view, the comedy of errors stretched out the ridiculous scene of Shinra's flailed limbs. It was the kind of scene that initially prompted laughter, but upon notice of the aftermath —well— it was hard to feel guilty for the momentous laughter that continued.

    Regardless, Izaya managed a whistle. "Wow, Shizu-chan. What a class act you are; attacking your only friend, if we can call him that."

    "Who's fault is it now? You're the one who didn't take the attack like you were supposed to!"

    "That logic makes no sense. Did you want me to direct the pole towards me psychically? Maybe you should’ve aimed better."

During their bicker, Shinra was pinned to the ground. Not by the pole, mind you — that rolled away after a raucous clang, which none of the other students took notice of. He was just flat on his back, pinned by gravity; forced to stare at the sky and tufts of cloud through blurred vision.

    "You guys…" Shinra sighed.

    "My aim ain't the problem, louse."

    "Really…"

    "It's that you exist."

    "Mmm,” Izaya nodded, “I'll be sure to pass that blame onto my mother."

    "What? Hu??" Shizuo trudged forward, stepped over the human barrier in his path.

    As he did, Shinra snatched his glasses just in time and braced for an impact that he narrowly avoided. "...guys...could I possibly have a minute of your time?"

He was ignored.

    "You mocked my parents for bringing me into this world, didn't you?"

    "How does that make sense!?"

    "Exactly. Welcome to your logic, Shizu-chan."

Izaya shrugged, shook his head as he stepped backward and to the side, continued to evade Shizuo as he approached. Though he kept watch of the gaping hole in the fence that he was being forced to reach, much quicker than comfortable.

But just as his heel teetered on the edge, Shizuo stole him from backward descent by way of his shirt collar.

    "Stop sayin’ things like that when you spew more nonsense than sense, Izaya!"

    "Likewise—"

    "Hey idiots!"

They jolted. Surprisingly that's what stopped the riled teens —the aggressor and the antagonist— and got them to look at their neglected friend as if the diss was an acceptable name to be addressed by.

    "I'm going to need my shoulder popped back into joint." He smiled through a cringe, though proud of his sturdiness while he sat up. Only a bit of sadism motivated the broadening of his beam.

    "Uh, I guess it's my duty…” Shizuo scratched his head while he let Izaya scramble back onto the rooftop. “It's my fault."

    "He finally admits it."

Fight or flight kicked Shinra to his feet without difficulty, as he knew Izaya's snarky comment wouldn't end well; especially for him if Shizuo administered the fix.     "A-ah!! No, no, no, Shizuo! I would rather keep my arm attached to my body!"

    "What he means to say, brute, is that he trusts me more."

Shinra nipped the comment before it went further, "Izaya, we're going to have some words later. After you fix me up!"

—

    "I'm surprised you can't do this yourself."

Izaya furrowed in concentration. He felt awkward as Shinra started to remove his blazer in order to make the procedure easier. Whether or not his nerves were built from guilt, there was more to it; there was a level of trust that someone had to put in another to allow them to help in a seemingly violent way. Rather literally, it aided hurt with pain, thus required responsibility to not botch it and cause another injury. So he questioned if he was the best man for the job.

They weren’t in a private setting, merely off to the side of their peers, but in the shadow of a corner often neglected. The intimacy was akin to past clubroom hangouts that Izaya and Shinra had grown stranger to; so it was nostalgic in that regard.

    "Oh, I can." Shinra shrugged, took a sharp breath when he felt resistance.

    "So, why don't you?"

Uniform sleeves were rolled to Izaya’s elbows, while his arms juggled the air to find the correct approach — specifically his hand placement. Shinra looked upon with humour, proud that he had aptitude over his usually multi-talented friend; but mostly he saw Izaya’s uncharacteristic fluster endearing just the same as awkward.

    "One, I don't particularly like doing it myself. Two, you owe — wait, that’s wrong.” 

Shinra startled Izaya when he took his hand in haste; went on to press his palm inches above his own heart, splayed fingers to help stabilise.     ”You want to lead with your dominant hand and utilise the sturdiness of your palm to control your force. One hardy fell swoop is all it takes!”

    "...oh." Izaya looked bashful.

    "I trust that you can manage to place your other hand my back, am I right? It's a bit hard for me to help you there."

    “I'm not sure if I can handle that, doctor." He rolled his eyes, while Shinra chuckled.

To the casual observer, it looked romantic; riddled with the connotation of something else. In actuality, it represented companionship more than consensual exchange.

    “Ahem!" Shinra cleared the air. ”Anyhoo, there was a second reason that I asked you.”

    “...this should be interesting.”

    “You owe me one, what, for all those free patch-ups I’ve given you—ACK!”

The deep pop that sounded was followed by a series of mumbled ‘ow’s.

    “Izaya, don’t you think you could warn me?”

    “Ohoho~ don’t you owe me for all those times you didn’t warn me, Shinra.” A blip of tongue teased.     “Fair, fair.” He massaged his shoulder. “I guess that means our mutual debt is paid off.”

Izaya’s immature gesture corrected itself, faltered to nod in agreeance. He looked disappointed by the answer. Like it was all a transaction, not that he was trusted. 

    "Ahh, we could say that…"

Shinra noticed, blinked and perked his brows; shocked that his joke was taken literally. Izaya, however, didn’t notice that; simply shook the numbness from his legs while he braced himself stand.

    "But, honestly…”

They paused, stilted and static.

    “...do I need an excuse to spend time with my friend?"

    Izaya huffed, “you're certainly using one."

    "But it's a good one." Shinra held up a pointed finger.

The off-duty chiropractor patted his patient’s fixed shoulder with a feigned smile —that is, pretended that it was forced. Shinra didn’t wince that time, kind of enjoyed the sharp twang within a bruise that began to form.

    “Was it worth it, though?”

    “Mmm, I would think so. I know you feel the same.”

    “Keep telling yourself that you know me as well as you brag. Maybe one day I’ll believe it.” And he turned his shoulder without an intended chill. The sentiment from their afternoon wouldn’t allow any attitude he tried for.

    “Okay, I will.”

—

    So there was that one time that Izaya had to patch Shinra up for a change...or second, as it were. It didn’t turn into a third or a fourth onward, but it wasn’t that the last time assured it wouldn’t happen. It just didn’t. 

Still, Shinra kept to his promise; pestered Izaya with ‘I know you’ and ‘I told you so’ as often as the met up over the years.

    “They say if there’s a way for one’s will, then their word will hold its weight,” Shinra smiled wistfully, “yet sometimes will is just a word in wait of the way.”

    “What a pretentious way to butcher an idiom, Shinra, for your own will...if you will.”

    “Well, Izaya, if there’s a way, then I will.”

—

AN: I think my attempt to butcher an idiom in a way that makes sense was...butchered. Oh well. xD

[lpdwillwrite4coffee]

BLOODY SUNRISE CHAPTER SEVEN

Two days.

Two days of heading east. Of trudging through forest and abandoned crop fields. Of discovering suburbs or towns only to find them razed or overrun with Geeks. And more fences.

Each time they came across a chain link barrier, Booker got quieter, almost brooding. Whatever quip he’d been about to hurl at her died on his tongue and he’d slow his pace, fresh disappointment and sorrow washing over him.

He never said why though. But Caitlin could guess.

Their options were running out. Their path was being chosen for them, forced to go the even longer way around. And their supplies were dwindling.

They finished the last of their water on the morning of the third day. Booker immediately pulled out his map and crouched down to read.

“Any viable sources for drinking water are south west from here. And…” He squinted up, gauging the sun’s position. “If we keep going this direction, we’re gonna land smack dab in the middle of a hot zone.”

Caitlin sighed. “What?”

“Atlanta is a day’s walk that way,” he said, gesturing. “If we keep trying to go around, we’re gonna end up in some trouble.”

She wanted to yell and pull her hair. Instead she just exhaled roughly and planted her hands on her hips.

“I spent a week getting away from Atlanta only to wind up back there.”

Booker stood, refolding his map. “It’s my fault,” he said. “I thought there’d be a way to go up and around, but…”

“Okay, so now what?” She couldn’t focus on the time lost. Only on moving forward.

Locking eyes with her, Booker said, “We go south. Fill up our water supply, then we head west.”

Caitlin nodded. It was all she could do. “Alright.”

She felt him watching her as she swung her pack over her shoulder and started walking.

After a few moments, Booker was on her heels. “I know what you must be thinkin’.”

“Oh?”

“You’re thinkin’ I’m an idiot for gettin’ us lost. For leadin’ us towards a hot zone.”

She cocked her head to look at him. “You’re a mind reader now?”

“I really did think there was a way—”

“Booker.”

“—I just thought if we stuck to the forest, we’d have better luck at avoiding any—”

“Booker.”

“But we���ll figure it out, we’ll—”

“JACK.” She stopped, spinning on her heel to face him. “I’m not mad at you. I don’t think you got us lost. You made a judgement call and it didn’t work out. So stop projecting your insecurities. It’s extremely unattractive.”

She started walking again but could feel him watching her still.

After a moment of silence, he called, “Did you just call me attractive?”

“Should’ve left him for the Geeks,” she muttered, marching onward.

                                                               ***

Late afternoon sun cast the surrounding land in a golden glow. Caitlin squinted in the light, shielding her eyes.

“Hold up,” Booker said, slowing his pace. “You see that?”

It took her a second, but then she spotted the wire wrapped around a few saplings. It was a perimeter marking, with pieces of metal dangling from it. A homemade alarm.

“People,” she whispered. There wasn’t a house in sight, but it must be closer than they knew if they were that close to their warning system.

“Maybe…” He swung his rifle off his shoulder and held it at his side. “Stay close, Meadows.”

They maneuvered under the wire, stepping lightly and keeping their eyes open wide. After another ten minutes they found a second row of wire and cans, this time with stakes in the ground, pointing up and out to impale any Geeks that managed to make it that far.

“Booker, I—”

“Jeremiah!!” A woman yelled, and Caitlin heard the distinct click of gunmetal. “Trespassers!!”

“Shit,” Booker hissed, making a move for his rifle.

“Hold it,” a man called. “Don’t you move, son!”

Caitlin’s heart was in her throat. Her legs shook with the need to run.

Lifting her hands, she scanned the thin tree line for faces. Several yards away, she spotted the woman aiming a hunting rifle at them.

“Booker, they’re armed,” she whispered.

“Yeah, kinda figured that one.”

Heavy foot falls alerted them moments before the man stomped through the brush. Tall, barrel chested with a round belly, he wore a white button down and suspenders. Not exactly what Caitlin had been expecting.

“You bit?” He yelled, adjusting his grip on his shotgun. “Scratched?”

“No sir,” Booker called back, holding out his hand and gun to show he didn’t mean trouble. “Neither of us. We were passin’ through.”

“Ain’t you seen the perimeter?”

So subtly she nearly missed it, Booker shifted his weight, putting himself just a few more inches between Caitlin and the man.

“Yes sir, we did. Made us a little optimistic there might be people ‘round.”

Booker’s accent thickened as he spoke, and Caitlin silently appreciated his knowledge of code switching. Sound like you’re a neighbor, get treated as a neighbor.

“There more of ya?”

Booker shook his head. “No sir, jus’ us. And we don’t mean y’all any harm.”

The woman stepped through the tree line then, her long greying hair in a braid over her shoulder, white dress and apron fluttering in the breeze. Her gaze shifted to the man—her husband, Caitlin guessed.

“Jeremiah…”

“Constance, be smart.”

Booker didn’t move. They were clearly having a conversation made purely of subtext neither of them understood.

The man took a step forward. “Y’all God-fearin’ people?”

Caitlin bristled at the question, but Booker didn’t even blink.

“Psalm 121, verses 7 and 8,” Booker called.

At that, the man started to lower his shotgun. “The Lord keeps you from all harm and watches over your life. The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever.” He grinned. “Welcome Brother, you have been delivered.”

Staring at the back of Booker’s head, she made a dozen mental notes to ask about that particular exchange.

The woman lowered her weapon and out of the brush stepped several more people—all aged twenty to nine, and armed. Most of them were boys, but one girl about ten years old in a floral dress held a teddy bear in one hand and a pistol in the other.

“Did you see them before?” She whispered to Booker.

“Yep. You?”

“No.”

In total, the family was about ten strong.

The pit in Caitlin’s stomach grew.

“Sorry about the less than hospitable greeting,” Jeremiah called, striding over. “We’ve learned it’s better to be gruff first and apologize later.”

“No offense taken,” Booker said.

The men shook hands, but Caitlin took a step back, eyeing Jeremiah warily.

Maybe she just hadn’t been around people in so long, especially people different than herself, but… something felt off. The memories of the first family to take her in rolled over and over in her mind. The openness, the kindness, the general feeling of ‘we’re all in this shitty situation together’… It was a stark contrast to Jeremiah’s gatekeeper attitude.

“I’m Booker, this is Caitlin.”

Jeremiah reached for her hand and she took it on impulse.

“Nice to meet you, young lady,” he said, squeezing her hand just a little too hard.

“You too.” It was a lie. Her legs still trembled, begging her to bolt away and drag Booker with her. She stayed planted.

“The house is just up this way. Ya caught us while we was doin’ chores.”

Caitlin didn’t move until Booker did. She stuck close as they followed the family up to their cabin.

As they walked, Jeremiah talked with Booker like he was an old friend—the result of having the same creed, she guessed.

She listened in as Jeremiah explained the cabin was his daddy’s and kept just for vacation and hunting trips, but when the world went to hell, he’d brought his family there to stay safe and away from the roaming ‘biters’ as he called them. He quoted scripture so many times Caitlin lost count, all about how it was the end of days and that Christ was soon coming again.

It wasn’t the Bible talk that made her nervous. It was the unsettling glint in his eye. Like he’d just decided he was running for Mayor, too friendly, too chatty, too happy to have them stay with them. All while his wife was silent, his children keeping their distance from them.

From him.

The house was larger than Caitlin anticipated, and well protected it looked like.

Secluded. Far away from any main roads. No neighbors.

She tried to shake the disturbed feeling, but it clung to her.

As they made it up the front porch steps, Constance spoke for the first time since they’d accosted them.

“We’re making stew for dinner. Y’all are welcome to get cleaned up. Maybe wash your clothes.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Caitlin said. “But I’m not sure how long we’re staying.”

“Well you’ll stay the night of course,” Constance said, a desperate tremor in her voice. “Y’all look tired and in need of some good food. We’re happy to have you.”

It felt final. As if the decision had already been made. Caitlin fought not to grimace.

Booker had been led to the other side of the main room by Jeremiah, and while the distance was maybe only a few feet, it felt too far for her comfort. With a polite smile, she wandered over to Booker’s side. The men were in the middle of discussing how the cabin had managed to maintain hot water and electricity with the right amount of propane and generators.

“Excuse me, can I borrow him back for a moment?” She asked, already reaching for Booker’s arm.

“’Course, darlin’.”

She’d grown accustomed to Booker’s voice saying that word and hearing a stranger call her that made her spine go rigid.

The family all milled around—younger children running off to play and the older boys hovering, looking like they were trying to puff up like their father.

Booker followed her back onto the porch, careful not to let the storm door slam.

“I don’t—”

“Shh shh,” he cut her off, pulling her to the other end of the porch away from the open windows. “Whisper.”

She nodded and crossed her arms. “I don’t like this.”

“I know that wasn’t the friendliest of greetings.”

“It’s not… Booker, something’s… off.”

He furrowed his brow, dark eyes locking with hers. “Whaddya mean?”

Caitlin bit the inside of her bottom lip, unsure if she should open a wound she’d only just managed to close in hopes of getting him to understand.

“This guy… his family…” She shook her head. “Booker, I don’t want to stay here.”

He sighed, leaning against the porch rail. “I know that back there shook ya up—”

“It’s not—”

“But Cae, they’re offerin’ us food. Water. Shelter. A hot shower—something I definitely haven’t had in…” He sniffed himself. “A very long time.”

Caitlin ground her molars.

“It’s almost dark,” Booker continued. “We’re out of food, and we’re at least another half day’s trek to anywhere that might have supplies.”

Her legs began to shake again, muscles screaming to run, run, run.

“We’ve managed on our own this far,” she countered, staring up at him. “We don’t need them.”

Booker watched her a moment and then took her by the hand, pulling her further away from listening ears.

“Talk to me.” He turned to face her, watchful gaze on the door to the house. “Just this mornin’ you were sayin’ how we needed supplies, we needed a safe place to make camp and rest up for a bit—”

“I know, I know what I said,” she interrupted, annoyed that her own argument was being used against her.

“Okay, then what’s changed?” He waited but when she didn’t speak up immediately, he added, “Meadows, I wanna understand, okay. I’m here, I’m listenin’. You’re sayin’ you wanna leave, turn down their hospitality, I gotta know why.”

Caitlin swallowed, throat abnormally tight. “He reminds me of my stepdad.”

Booker blinked, waiting for her to continue.

“Overly nice to company, while his family is stock still and quiet, terrified of making a wrong move they know they’ll pay for later.” She folded her arms over her stomach. “And his wife? She’s too insistent on having us stay, probably because she knows he’ll be on his best behavior while we’re around.”

“I didn’t see any bruises…”

“Oh, Booker, come on,” she snapped, about to turn away from him.

“No, I just… I don’t wanna make assumptions about a man we don’t know.”

Pegging him with a glare, she said, “I know him. I know men like him. He’s good at fooling people into thinking ‘no, not him, he could never.’”

Booker inhaled, glancing at the darkening sky. “Cae, I know you’re scared… and bein’ around people again is nerve wrackin’ for me too. It’s hard to trust anyone anymore. But turnin’ our backs on shelter and food this close to nightfall… I dunno...”

A sharp pang of betrayal was quickly followed by a sour feeling in her stomach. Maybe he was right… she’d been distrustful of Booker when they first met, and he was a good man. Just because someone was like her stepfather didn’t mean history was repeating itself.

And the prospect of a hot shower and warm meal was alluring.

“Okay,” she relented. “You’re right, we need a safe place to rest. It’ll be fine.”

Booker wrapped his hand around her arm, gently squeezing in reassurance. “One night, two tops, and then we’re on our way again.”

She nodded, forcing down the lump in her throat.

The porch door swung open and Constance stepped out. “Supper’s ready. Y’all hungry?”

                                                               ***

After nearly inhaling their venison stew and rolls, Constance showed them to the bathroom upstairs and laid out some toiletries for them. She told them to pile their dirty clothes outside the door and she’d throw them in the wash.

Caitlin watched the woman, searching for signs she’d been right before… or wrong. It all felt smudged and blurry, like wiping a hand over something written in chalk.

Booker insisted Caitlin shower first, keeping subtle watch by the door.

It was an action that had her eyes pricking with unshed tears. He might not agree with her about Jeremiah or his family, but he wasn’t about to leave her vulnerable and alone.

After three weeks of rinsing off in creeks, sponging off with stolen paper towels and rags, and keeping her hair in a tight ponytail, stepping under the warm spray was almost orgasmic.

She moaned like it was anyway.

“Do I wanna know what you’re doin’ in there?” Booker called through the door, smirk audible.

“You wish,” she responded, lathering up her hair.

She could hear his chuckle even over the water’s spray.

If she wasn’t afraid of using all the hot water, she’d have stayed in the shower for an hour. But once she was clean, rinsed, and cleaned again for good measure, she turned the water off and wrapped herself in a towel. It was a little thin, but the air was warm enough she wasn’t concerned with catching a chill.

Finger combing her hair, she opened the bathroom door to let Booker know she was done. He stared up at her from where he was sat on the floor, and immediately averted his gaze.

“Your turn,” she said, one hand keeping her towel closed at her chest.

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Alright.”

Caitlin grinned to herself. “Oh look, there are those red ears again.”

Booker stood up in a hurry. “Just tryna be polite, Meadows.”

“Where are our packs?” She asked before he could close the door.

“Tucked ‘em away in that room over there.”

“Thanks,” she said, padding down the hall in her bare feet.

Quickly digging out her only other set of clothes—bra, panties, grey tee shirt, and jeans—she got dressed facing the door, holding her breath so she could hear someone coming up the stairs.

No one did.

When she was dressed, she yanked her shoes back on and sat on the end of the hope chest at the foot of the twin bed, waiting for Booker.

After a few minutes, the door opened.

“Jesus, Cae.” Booker pulled up short, one hand keeping his towel around his hips. “Why ain’t you downstairs?”

“I was waiting for you,” she said, sitting upright.

She expected him to tease her, but instead he just nodded and shut the door behind him.

Her gaze tracked the movement, momentarily stunned by how much of Booker was on display. Rivulets of water followed the curve of his muscular back, disappearing beneath the edge of the towel. His Marine Corps tattoo wasn’t the only ink he’d collected—a family crest covered his right shoulder blade, and a black and white lion’s head was high up on his left bicep.

He had the tanned complexion of someone who worked outside shirtless more often than not. Had the physique to match too.

As he turned, Caitlin forced her stare to the floor, hands fidgeting in her lap.

Grabbing clothes from his pack, Booker stood at the foot of the bed to lay them out.

He grinned. “Now who’s blushin’?”

Rolling her eyes, Caitlin stood up. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

“’M hurt, Meadows. Don’t tell me I’ve let myself go.”

“Jackass,” she muttered, striding out into the hall and shutting the door.

“Beg your pardon?”

Jeremiah was stopped on the stairs, eyeing her.

“Oh, uh…” She glanced over her shoulder. “It was… nothing. Sorry.”

He didn’t comment, just continued up the stairs until he was only a couple feet from her on the landing.

“Y’all gettin’ settled alright?”

She tried to seem relaxed but knew it wasn’t working. “Yes, thank you.”

“Shower’s nice, ain’t it?” Jeremiah took a couple steps closer. “I praise the Lord every day we had the foresight to put in extra generators a few years back. And those propane tanks too. ‘Course, we never imagined what we’d be usin’ this place for…”

“I’m not sure anyone knew to expect this.” Her gaze darted behind him, wondering if she would be better off excusing herself or if waiting at the door with Booker in ear shot was safest.

“The day of reckoning is upon us,” Jeremiah continued. “The good book gave us all the signs. Least that’s what I told my congregation anyway.”

Caitlin squinted up at him. “You’re a pastor?”

“Yes’m. Holy Bible Church, about five miles down the main road.”

Something sickly curled in her gut. A pastor that took his family and ran, hiding out in the woods, armed to the teeth with weapons… It didn’t feel very godly to her.

Just then the door behind her opened and Booker walked out.

“Sir,” he greeted Jeremiah. “Thank you again for lettin’ us get cleaned up.”

“Oh, o’course,” Jeremiah said. “Now, y’all save room for dessert?”

Caitlin blinked. “Huh?”

“Constance made a pie. C’mon ‘n’ have some.”

He started back down the stairs and Booker brushed by her, touching her elbow gently.

“Y’alright?”

She nodded, decidedly ignoring the churning in her gut.

                                                               ***

Dessert with the family was only mildly uncomfortable. Caitlin felt like they were being watched, but not just as outsiders. It was like they were being tested, observed for anything Jeremiah deemed unsavory.

When they finished, Caitlin started to take their plates to the kitchen, but Constance jumped up, taking them instead.

“Let me,” she murmured, quickly rushing into the other room.

As Caitlin settled back in her seat, Jeremiah leaned forward, pegging her and Booker with a stare.

“Now, I’m happy to have y’all here,” he started, and Caitlin’s heart rate double timed. “But there are some house rules we follow as the good Lord has bestowed them on us.”

The more he tried to sound devout, the worse he came across.

“We’re a Christian family, and as such we don’t believe in committing sins of the flesh. Things like premarital relations are against God’s teachings. So, I’m afraid y’all will have to sleep in separate rooms.”

Booker started to chuckle, opening his mouth to speak, but Caitlin jumped in.

“Oh, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” she said, voice as sweet as she could muster. “We are married.”

Booker cocked his head, careful to keep his expression neutral.

Jeremiah’s stare narrowed. “Y’all ain’t wearing weddin’ bands.”

Wrapping her arm around Booker’s in an affectionate gesture, she leaned into him. “That’s actually my fault. See, it’s actually coming up on our one-year anniversary, and I’d taken our rings in to the jeweler to get them cleaned and… Well, I was gonna get something engraved on sweetie’s here—” She squeezed Booker’s arm, hoping he understood.

Go along with this.

Back me up.

Please.

“—But the day I was supposed to pick them up… The virus outbreak happened.” She held Jeremiah’s gaze, unwavering. “Didn’t even occur to me to try to get our rings. Especially since they’re just material possessions. And a marriage is more than that, right?”

Jeremiah hummed, but he didn’t look completely convinced. “Tell me about your weddin’, Booker.”

Shit.

Booker’s stare met Caitlin’s for a split second before turning to the man, grinning.

“Oh man, did she hate our weddin’,” Booker started, hand covering hers and giving a gentle pat and squeeze. “We both wanted somethin’ simple, real easy, ya know? I’d’ve been happy goin’ to the li’l chapel by the base, but her mom was not havin’ it.”

He squeezed her hand again, thumb rubbing a circle on her palm.

Follow my lead.

I’ve got your back.

We’ll be fine.

“Mom wanted all the family there,” Caitlin supplied with a smile.

Booker nodded. “Both our mamas wanted half of Texas there,” he said with a laugh. “And then nobody liked the food we picked.”

“I thought a taco bar would be a good idea.”

“But my mama wanted sit down style, real classy to impress her friends. And then her daddy—”

“Oh gosh.”

“Her daddy refused to walk her down the aisle if she wasn’t wearin’ pure white.”

Caitlin feigned a giggle. “I’m fair skinned, pure white looks awful on me.”

“I still think you looked gorgeous,” Booker said, looking to her.

“You have to say that, you married me.”

Booker squeezed her hand again, reassuring her.

“Anyway, when it was all said and done, the day itself was a disaster.” He tilted his head towards her once more. “But every day since then has been a blessin’. And it ain’t really ‘bout the day, it’s ‘bout the marriage, right?”

Jeremiah took the bait, believed them totally by the look in his eyes. “That’s right, son. A marriage bond is a blessed thing, ain’t that right Constance?”

Returning from the kitchen with a pitcher of iced tea, Constance nodded jerkily. “Sure is.”

Booker’s thumb pressed against Caitlin’s palm, and it instantly grounded her. The twisting in her gut, the dark edges of panic, all seemed to fade if only for a moment.

“Then the boys can bunk up and they can take the spare,” Constance offered, pouring tea for Jeremiah first. Looking over at them, she said, “It’s not much, but it’s comfy.”

“I’m sure it’ll be perfect,” Caitlin assured her. Her empathy for the woman was growing by the hour.

While convinced, Jeremiah still didn’t look exactly happy. “Guess that’s settled then.”

His tone was one she knew too well, and the dread returned, threatening to choke her.

She didn’t even realize she’d been clutching Booker’s arm with a vice grip until he caught her eye.

                                                               ***

A mattress. A real mattress.

They were getting to sleep on a real bed, with sheets and pillows and a floral quilted bedspread.

Caitlin wanted to pinch herself.

“See?” Booker whispered, shutting the door. “Silver lining.”

“It’s a little small… We’re gonna get extra cozy.”

Booker faltered from where he was grabbing a pillow off the bed. “I was… just gonna…” He motioned to the floor.

Caitlin wanted to smack him. “I’m not gonna deprive you of sleeping in a real bed, Booker. You’re just as exhausted as I am. Besides, what if they walk in and see you on the floor?”

“We pretend we had a fight and you kicked me outta bed?”

“And you really think they’ll buy that?”

“Prob’ly not.”

“Exactly. So be an adult and pretend to be my husband already.”

She turned down the covers and started to climb in when Booker made a noise.

“You’re sleepin’ in a bed with your shoes on?”

Caitlin leveled her stare on him. “I have slept with my shoes on every night since this hell began. And I’ve never been woken up in the middle of the night and had to run. So…”

He nodded. “Ahh, so it’s a Murphy’s Law kinda situation.”

“Yup,” she said, settling in on her side of the twin bed.

“Want me to do the same?”

She grinned. “I should tell you no, so I’ll have a thirty second head start, just in case.”

Booker shook his head at her and climbed in, still in his boots. “One of these days, you’re gunna feel real bad ‘bout these jokes if somethin’ happens to me.”

“Maybe. Maybe I’ll pour one out for you and move on.”

Shifting to get comfortable against the pillows, he said, “I prefer Johnny Walker Blue, if the occasion ever comes.”

“Noted.”

The bed really was small for two people, but Caitlin was so bone-deep tired, she was already dozing off halfway through rolling onto her side. She vaguely remembered mumbling ‘goodnight’ to Booker before she was out.

                                                                               ***

Run! Run! Run!

Caitlin awoke with a violent jerk, gasping for air.

“Shh, shh, hey,” Booker’s voice was right in her ear. “It’s alright, you’re safe, Cae.”

Sucking air into her lungs, she tried to sit up, but something kept her pinned. “Jack?”

“Y’started kickin’ in your sleep,” he murmured. “I was worried you’d roll outta bed, so…”

She slowly understood, could feel in the dark what he meant. Her back was pressed firmly against Booker’s chest, his thick arm around her waist. His hand was balled into a fist against the mattress, she guessed as his way of assuring her he wasn’t coping a feel.

“Y’want some water, or--?”

She shook her head. “No, no, I’m…” She took a deep breath. “I’m alright. Thank you.”

He started to lift his arm off her when she grabbed his wrist and kept him where he was.

“Just in case,” she murmured, letting her head settle back on the pillows.

She felt him nod and adjust his position a little, attempting to give her space.

It wasn’t necessary. They might’ve lied about being married, but they’d gained a level of intimacy in their time together. To call each other friends felt weirdly hollow, but there wasn’t another, more accurate word for them.

Friends. They were friends.

Easing into the mattress, Caitlin closed her eyes and tried to remember the sounds from the trees. The birds. The crickets.

And then Booker started humming “Jolene” by Dolly Parton, and she almost cried.

They weren’t friends. They were something else, something more careful, something fiercer. Viscerally interdependent. A blood oath made by children in a backyard fort—Innocent and vicious with the same swipe of a blade.

“Thank you,” Caitlin croaked, pressing her face into her pillow.

Booker’s response was a soft pull of his arm, securing her, and a smooth transition to the next verse.

[leathersandsours]

Gnawing

Hal was awake at the crack of dawn-- no, before it. Just as the blue of night was fading into grey; as the last of the lavender dripped into the cream of sunrise. He was used to waking up early, often being awake when the pinatas woke, but this... 

“God, I’m starving...” he muttered, staring blankly at the branches above. It had snowed some time in the night, but thanks to the warm huddle of the mallowolves he was clean and warm. So he didn’t exactly want to get up to find something to eat. 

Sighing in defeat, Hal lifted his eat from the back of the sour he was using as a pillow and sat up. He surveyed the area with a tired pink glare. Everyone else was still deeply asleep; even the night faring ones were huddled in to sleep for the day. He found Macarena nestled in a pile of sour macaracoons with only his face sticking out. Oh, that looked so comfortable. He sent him a halfhearted glare of resentment. 

The man slipped on his boots and leather jacket before carefully stepping out of the grand huddle into the freezing cold. It’d started to snow again. Wonderful.

First thing to check was the locked closet he used as food storage. The metal key stuck to his hand as he turned it, forcing him to rip a bit of skin off to get free. He flung open the cupboard to find-- nothing. 

“Really? Not even protein powder?” he grumbled, voice coarse from sleep. All that was left was a half finished tub of sugar, a bottle of water and some packets of salt he took from Arfur’s. “Fuck.” 

Hal resisted the urge to slam it just, instead forcefully locking it with a huff. Now what was he supposed to do? It was winter so he couldn’t fish and the cluckles wouldn’t be laying. Not for the first time did he lament that he didn’t keep any cow pinata around. 

“I guess now is a good time to go shopping,” he sighed, zipping up his jacket. He scooped up his mask from a nearby tree trunk and slipped it into place.

The man headed to the entrance of the garden to a small shed off to the side. Soon, a growling filled the air and he sped off on his motorbike. 

It was a fine thing, this bike; a dark crimson with neon green flames on it bordered with the same pale green of his mask. All the details of the bike were in chrome, slightly tacky perhaps but he liked the shine. The handlebars were spaced widely, allowing him to lean back against the back rest and enjoy the long ride into town comfortably. 

Even though winter happened every year, it was strange to see how it masked the Island. Some places were completely bare while others were covered in blizzards. The magic of this place was so strange. You gotta wonder what’d happen if someone so warped by magic tried to leave? Would they return to normal, or crumble into nothingness?

Hal was brought out of his thoughts as he pulled into the parking lot behind Costalot’s. Lottie had really supersized the place lately. Well, she was the only general store in the village. 

The man kicked the stand down with perhaps more force than necessary and unzipped his jacket. Sighing, he entered.

“Welcome! Come in and chase away those winter blues with retail therapy!” Lottie’s cheery face rung out at the sound of the bell. Her “customer smile” faltered slightly at the sight of him (likely remembering their heated bartering) but she soon recovered as another person approached with their items.

“What have we got...” With winter in full swing, a lot of things were needing to be imported in from warmer parts of the Island or outside of it. That mostly just meant it gave Lottie an excuse to gouge prices like the old miser she is. 

Who the hell pays 500 coins for one loaf of bread? This was ridiculous. But it was the cheapest actual food item in here. Resigned, Hal flipped open his wallet and searched through it. 

..... 

“God shits in my breakfast once again,” he growled, startling another customer. Nearly crushing them with the force of his grip, Hal glared at the mere 200 coin note he had. What was he meant to buy with this? All the prices were raised! 

“Hey, Lottie... Any chance for a discount?”

<@>

Hal’s ass hit the packed snow with a painful yelp. Grumbling under his breath, he picked himself up and rubbed his tender behind. Not even leather pants could save his sweet ass from the cruelty of Lottie’s kicks. 

“What do I do now...?” he could feel tiredness tug at him from behind his eyes. There was a painful clenching in his empty stomach now, as if a fist were twisting up his insides. As empty as it was it was hardly making noise now. 

For the third time today he sighed. 

The man paced his way down the street, hands in his pockets and a glare for anyone who glanced his way. He was sore, tired and starving-- but to them he was just his normal, cranky self. Bastards.

Briefly he was stopped outside of Arfur’s Inn by the alluring smell of homecooked meals. He was sure if he asked, Arfur would be happy to give him one for cheap or put it on his tab-- but he didn’t want that. He was already indebted to the man and though he tried to pay off his tab when he could, he didn’t want to be even more of a burden. So with yet another sigh, he forced himself onwards. 

He turned into an alleyway, leaning against the wall as a pang hit him. His vision blurred into checkers before him and he had to stop himself from fainting out of pure willpower. “Oh, shut up...” he hissed at his body, “We’ll get something soon...” 

Pushing off the wall, the biker trudged on wards to where he’d parked. 

Looks like he was going to have to work tonight. 

He just hoped his prey wouldn’t struggle too much.

[katedoesfics]

Under Shadow: Chapter 32

The land was still flat near the coastal side of the country, and though it was too dark to see, Najia knew that the distant mountains would be looming before her as she neared them. The air was cooler as she drove through the day, further and further north, and the land gradually began to elevate. The interstate narrowed and started to slope and twist as it neared the mountain range, forcing her to slow her speed, which was well over eighty. She slowed even more as her headlights flashed over a dark figure, standing on the edge of the road. She pulled to a stop beside the man who had his hands shoved in his pockets.

“I wondered when you’d find me,” Shane’s voice said.

“Don’t get too excited,” Najia said. “I wasn’t looking for you. I’m going to Stardew Valley.”

“I know,” he said simply.

“What are you doing out here?”

Shane shrugged. “Stardew Valley or bust.”

“Why?”

“Well,” he hesitated. “I realized I really had nothing to live for, and wandering around the world aimlessly really wasn’t going to accomplish anything.” He paused. “I guess I wasn’t ready to give up, and the valley felt like another goal to work towards. Plus, I figured I’d find you there. And that didn’t seem so bad.”

Najia grew quiet. “And what if we don’t find anything?”

“Like you said; we’ll find something else to get to.” He smiled to her. “I heard the Fern Islands are great this time of year.”

“You know,” Najia said, returning his smile, “I’ve never been.”

“You have just got to go,” Shane said mockingly. “Their Maki Rolls are to die for.”

“So, Stardew Valley or bust?” She nodded to the empty seat beside her.

“Alright,” Shane said, climbing in beside her. “Just don’t go picking up any more hitch hikers. You got lucky, this time.”

*****

They climbed higher into elevation as they neared the night, pausing only for a moment to find the easiest way through the mountains on their map. If the map was accurate, and if Stardew Valley hadn’t changed since the abrupt invasion, the could make their way around the mountain range and follow a set of train tracks through them and straight into the valley.

They followed the route as best as they could, climbing higher and higher, slowly working their way around the range. Shane took a turn driving them through the night and by morning, they had reached the abandoned tracks. Though it was over grown with weeds, it was level enough for them to drive through, so Najia took over, following the tracks as they twisted their way through the mountains.

But as the day wore on, the temperature continued to drop and a light snow started to fall, illuminated by the car’s headlights.

“I wish I stole Kent’s sleeping bags,” Najia muttered. “I didn’t quite plan for the weather change in the mountains.”

“It will be warmer once we reach they valley,” Shane pointed out. “It’s not winter, yet.”

The snow fell more heavily as they drove into the night and the wind picked up, howling around them as they continued to navigate their way through the mountains. Before long, Najia found herself squinting through the windshield in an attempt to see through the heavy snow, but she had already lost sight of the tracks that guided her.

She argued with Shane but eventually agreed to stop for the night. He was right after all; there was no sense getting lost in the mountains and freezing to death. Of all the ways to die in this world, it would be a shame to be defeated by nature.

Shane draped the one blanket they did have over them and Najia turned off the engine. They stared up at the ceiling as the warmth quickly left the car and the cold took over until they could see their breaths. Najia crossed her arms in an attempt to hold the heat in her body.

“We could cuddle,” Shane joked.

“I’d rather freeze to death,” Najia said through her teeth.

“Ouch.”

Najia listened as his body shifted and he turned over.

“You can keep the car running.”

“We can’t waste the gas.”

“We can’t be that far,” Shane said.

“We can deal with a little shivering, too,” Najia pointed out.

Shane sighed. “You’re going to make this a long night.”

“Did you see all the sights while you ran away like a child?”

“Miles and miles of highway,” Shane said sarcastically. “Did you enjoy the beach?”

“We found five more survivors,” Najia said. “Sam’s father was one of them.”

Shane propped himself up in his make-shit bed. “Really?”

“They’ve got a whole hide out and everything. Living the good life.”

Shane settled back into the seat. “Hm.”

“Do you think its weird?” Najia asked. “That through all this, a family has managed to stay alive, together?”

“Lucky, I suppose. Dumb luck. Like winning the lottery. Doesn’t happen often.”

“Everyone else is alone. We’ve all lost people. Yet, they get to be together.”

“You’ve got ol’ gramps,” Shane pointed out.

Najia smiled a half smile at the ceiling. “I guess so,” she said softly. “And you’ve got Marnie and Jas.”

*****

When they awoke, the snow was still coming down heavily. They had made it through the cold night, letting the car heat up every couple of hours, but the fuel ran dangerously low.

“We can’t sit around,” Najia said anxiously. “We’ll be stranded here.”

“We’re already stuck in the snow,” Shane pointed out. “There’s no sense wasting the gas trying to get through.”

“So, we’re supposed to just wait and hope it stops and melts?”

“It won’t be melting any time soon,” Shane said. “But it will stop eventually. And when it does, we can trek through it.”

“We don’t have time for eventually,” Najia argued. “We don’t know when that will be, and we don’t have gas to last us much longer.”

“We’re not going out into the storm,” Shane said, his voice raising.

“I’m not going to sit here and hope it stops before we freeze to death.”

“You’re being irrational,” Shane growled.

Najia pushed the door open with all her might. The snow was still light and fluffy and fortunately had not grown too deep at that point. She stumbled into the snow, slamming the door behind her. Her flashlight illuminated the flakes falling around her, but proved useless in guiding her way.

Shane pushed his way out of the car, chasing after her and grabbing her wrist.

“Will you stop being stubborn, for once in your damned life?” he hissed at her.

“We don’t need the tracks,” Najia insisted. “We’re so close. All we have to do is follow the break in the trees. The valley isn’t far. We just have to go down and then we’ll be out of the storm.”

“We can wait it out until we can see better.”

“See better?” Najia yelled over the howling wind. “It can’t possibly any darker out here. There’s no sun to keep this warm. We can’t stay up here in this storm, Shane. We need to leave.” She pulled her hand out of his grip and trudged through the snow.

Shane followed her wordlessly, pulling his jacket tight around him. He wasn’t sure if she had gone completely mad or not. Maybe she had a point. Or maybe they were just walking to their deaths.

“No, Najia,” he shouted to her. “This is a bad idea.”

“It’s close,” she said to him. She pointed to the sky. “It’s lighter, Shane. See? It’s lighter. It’s real. Stardew Valley is real.”

“Najia,” Shane growled. “Stop. We’re going to die out here.”

“I’m not going back,” she insisted.

“It’s not real, Najia. You’re seeing things. There’s nothing out here.”

Shane started to lose sigh of Najia. Her dark figure disappeared into the darkness, her flashlight lost in the heavy snow which kicked up around them in the wind.

“Najia!”

Shane ran forward, but she was no where to be seen. He called for her again, but his voice was lost in the wind. He stumbled forward, his heart racing as he searched for her. He shouted, but the wind drowned out his voice. He reached desperately into the air, hoping to grab her, but his hands fell, grabbing at air.

He stumbled through the snow as he tried to run, but quickly grew disoriented. His heart raced and his head spun as, but he pushed onward aimlessly until a hand gripped his shoulder pulling him backwards. He turned quickly, panicked, as a grey bearded man stood before him, shining a light in his face.

“Where is she?” the man shouted at him. “Where’s my granddaughter?”

[anchorsandadderall]

The Passenger

Summary: A story about picking up a stranger on the side of a dark road and why this is a bad idea.

Rating: T

Words: 1,307

Tags: Horror, Minor Gore

Stiles wouldn’t call himself a good Samaritan. He’s not got nearly the ego for it. And really, theologically speaking, anyone who thinks of himself as a good Samaritan probably isn’t.

Point being, he doesn’t just go around picking up strangers on the side of the road. He does have a little bit of common sense, thank you. But he’s about to make an exception.

The fog tonight is so thick that the Jeep’s headlights only cut a few feet into it. The forest rises up on either side of the road, and he’s well outside the city’s budget limits for street lights. It’s just a shadow in the fog at first, long and thin and distorted. As Stiles gets closer, Jeep only crawling along the pitch-dark road, the shape condenses in the mist and becomes something more human-sized. The details only become apparent once the headlights wash over the stranger from a scant foot behind him: black leather jacket, white shirt, dark hair, and a loping, onward trudge. He doesn’t look back at the car lighting his way, close enough that he can surely hear the engine. He just keeps moving forward. Forward.

He has the disposition of a serial killer. But also, he’s hot. Stiles does try to claim to himself that it’s just that he’s not heartless, and he hates just driving in this shit so walking in it must really, really suck. But he also knows he’s full of shit and, again, not a good Samaritan.

“Hey,” he calls, leaning over to awkwardly roll the Jeep’s passenger-side window down while trying to not run over the hot serial killer. “Hey, dude!” The guy finally stops and looks over. With his face awash in the headlights, Stiles can see he’s got at least a couple of days of stubble on his face, and dark circles under his eyes. He ignores the way the light reflects off the guy’s eyes when he turns his head out of the glare of headlights. People have eyeshine, right? That’s a normal thing.

“What?”

Stiles opens his hands in a ‘WTF?’ gesture. “What do you mean, ‘what?’ Why do people normally stop beside strangers on the side of the road?” The guy just stares at him. Stiles finds himself waiting too long, waiting to see if he’s going to blink. He doesn’t. “Uh… do you need a ride? This is me, being a compassionate person?”

The guy says nothing. He just reaches in the window and lifts the door lock, then pulls the door open. The Jeep leans a little as he climbs inside and shuts the door. He stares straight ahead into the darkness, and it takes Stiles a minute to realize he’s rolled up the window. Right. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

“So… where you headed?” Stiles pulls the Jeep back onto the road and giving it a little more speed.

The guy rests his arm across his lap, then stops moving. “Beacon Hills.”

“I know it. Spent a good deal of time kicking around there.” It’s a small-ish town, but not so small that it’s weird to meet someone he doesn’t know. People have surely come and gone since he was last there. “So. I’m Stiles,” he finally says, once it becomes apparent that the hot serial killer isn’t going to make small talk on his own.

“Derek.”

Stiles glances over for a second. It’s weird when someone doesn’t tell him his name is weird. Everyone who meets him tells him that. Derek is just staring out the windshield. The shadows cast back from the headlights pool under his eyes, making them look large and hollow. He turns his head after a second, and two pinpoints in the blackness reflect off the scant light again.

“You should pay attention to the road.” The arm across his lap looks like it’s shifted. His hand has disappeared inside his leather jacket. Stiles might have started to worry about a weapon, if not for the slight squishing sound. Derek’s shirt isn’t white anymore. “The road.”

Stiles turns his eyes back to the road. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Hugging a tight curve to the right plunges the passenger side of the Jeep into darkness as the treeline looms over them, casting hard shadows that seem to reach into the car. Stiles looks over when the road straightens out and the moon can seep back in through the line of sky above them. Derek’s entire shirt is dark and wet. His throat glistens in the dark, torn edges of flesh jutting out.

“So I guess you’re not the kind of ghost that just disappears, are you?”

Derek lolls his head to the side, like his neck doesn’t work properly anymore. Beady red pinpoints glow in the dark pits of his eyes. “You should probably be more afraid.” The words rattle in his throat, raspy and wet.

Stiles sighs and blinks his eyes, the colors turning inside out as he opens them again. White dots against black sclera reflect back from the rear-view mirror. “Dude, I was just trying to save us this awkward situation.”

“What are you?” Derek asks, with neither fear nor surprise in his voice. Which Stiles supposes isn’t surprising if he really does have business in Beacon Hills. No one gets out of that town without knowing that there are monsters under the bed.

“Don’t take it too personally, big guy.” Stiles reaches over and pats Derek’s knee, which earns him a growl and fingertips that come back sticky and red. “You’re a hella scary ghost. But demons are pretty hard to rattle.”

“What’s a demon doing driving in the woods?”

Stiles raises his eyebrows. “What’s a ghost doing walking by the side of the road in the woods? At least I’m going faster.” Derek makes a low, wet sound that might be a growl if his vocal chords were in better shape. “Fine, low blow. I apologize. I’ve got quotas to meet. Back roads and all-night gas stations are decent for that. Your turn.”

“My pack. They’re in Beacon Hills.”

Ghost classifications are weird and varied. It’s impossible to say if that pack is still alive to be saved. Derek could be stuck in a loop. He could have hitched rides on this road hundreds of times before. Or he could have died two hours ago. Revenge is a hell of a drug, and does more for extending life than keto ever will.

There’s also the small matter of Derek still being hot, even if he’s a little torn up right now.

“Don’t suppose you’d want to make a deal?”

“I don’t think I have much of a soul left to trade.”

Fair assessment. But Stiles can smell the bloodlust that rises over the stench of rot in the car. The anger and pain that roll off of Derek are so thick that Stiles can taste it when he licks his lips. So maybe the deal won’t make him employee of the month. It’ll sure as hell be fun though.

“Even the house loses money on a deal sometimes. Riddle me this. If we go find your pack and deliver them from evil, you gonna have any angst left in the tank?”

Derek makes a hard, rhythmic sound that manages to spray a few flecks of blood on the windshield. Laughing, Stiles realizes, through his ruined throat. His voice still works enough to produce a guttural rattle that forms a word. “Plenty.”

No one is on that dark road through the middle of the forest and outside the budget limits for street lights. No one else sees it when the interior of the battered Jeep glows like a smoldering fire inside. Fire belches from the exhaust pipe as it speeds off into the darkness, and two voices that almost sound human laugh into the night.

Also up on AO3

[mythicamagic]

Overcast Auras and Silver Sandwiches ~ Zutara Week 2018 fanfic: (Tea)

Summery: Zuko goes speed dating at the Jasmine Dragon and gets...mixed results.

Zutara: Romance, Humour, Modern Day AU - No Bending

Rated T Oneshot

Read it on Ao3 and Fanfiction.net

@zutaraweek

Probably my only submission for Zutara week but I wanted to contribute something for one of my fav ships x This is about 5,000 words so grab a cup of your favourite beverage. (Preferably tea)

Overcast Auras and Silver Sandwiches

"I can't believe I'm paying money to humiliate myself," Zuko stuffs his hands into his pockets, trudging down the street. An array of street lights lit the path onward, winding around various stores and houses, to where he could vaguely make out the shape of their destination in the distance. The Jasmine Dragon.

"Come on Zuko, what are you scared for? You've got the number one player on the block; Sokka-man, right by your side. Want some lady wooing tips?" An elbow jabs Zuko's side, making his lips peel back to reveal gritted teeth. He shoots his grinning friend a glare, keeping quiet.

"Sokka, I could use some of your knowledge," an amiable voice pipes up.

Sokka smirks, turning to Aang. "You're wise to seek me out as your sifu, young one." He nods gravely, causing Zuko to snort. The three make their way past the closed stores and towards the faint smell of incense. He dimly wonders why Toph was hosting such an event so late at night, as the 'ambience' of the starry sky wasn't really something she cared about. Not that he had anything to do except study tonight. His heart thuds in his chest as he stares at the familiar cafe, looming closer. Something twists in his gut and warms his hands, but he stubbornly presses forward.

Another thought occurs to Zuko as he hears Sokka prattling on. "Haven't you been single for two ye-"

"The third lesson of wooing is this; Be aloof, but not too much that you look uninterested- like Mr. Gloomy here." Sokka pokes Zuko's head.

"Its a little late to start with the pro-tips, we're almost there," the dark haired boy grunts, batting him off.

"You could use all the help you can get Mr. Gloomy," Toph speaks up next to them, causing all three boys to do a double take. She holds her hand up just as they open their mouths. "I joined you at that last street corner, don't freak out. You guys are so self involved though, not noticing a blind girl. I dunno how you're gonna manage to score tonight," she sighs with dismay, padding across the square with them.

Aang tilts his head, watching as she bites into an apple. "Why are you here if you're in charge of tonight?"

"I left the tea loving uncle at the helm. It is his cafe after all. I needed a break," she mutters, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Zuko rubs his temples, fighting the urge to pull his hood up as they approach the entrance. That twisting in his gut from before irritated him. Bad enough that he was taking part in this dumb event for Toph, but his uncle would be there to watch. Perfect.

Toph pads ahead to the tea house, which was filled with rich gold and green colours. Dark wood lined the doorways and the smells of different teas and pleasant incense wafted into the air, greeting them as they lingered in the foyer. Other boys their age, around 18-20 year olds, were waiting around, standing awkwardly in loose groups.

Punching Sokka affectionately in the arm, Toph mutters 'break a leg' as she disappears behind the double doors, where presumably girls were waiting. Sokka rubs his already bruising arm absentmindedly. "At least I get a signed autograph out of participating tonight, if nothing else."

"That's what Toph bribed you with?" Zuko snorts, souring slightly. He hadn't even been bribed, maybe he was getting soft. Toph had told him that her parents wanted her to take a more active role in hosting for their restaurant. Though nothing too strenuous for their darling daughter, of course. Toph had said she wanted to prove to them that she could manage.

"I was told this was for charity," Aang said, quieting when both Sokka and Zuko look at him. "Aaand now I'm guessing it's...not?"

Zuko sighs, awkwardly reaching to pat his shoulder before thinking better of it and retracting his hand, still not very good with the whole 'friend' thing. "Looks like she fooled all of us in some way, wouldn't worry about it." He mutters gruffly, while Aang brightens a touch.

"Wait, so I'm NOT getting the Boulders autograph?!" Sokka exclaims, just as the doors spread open fully.

As the group around him shifts their attention to Toph and his uncle in the tea-shop, Zuko glances further in at the rows of tables all assembled in a line. Girls were sitting behind them on one side, chatting or texting on their phones. He immediately regrets his decision when he sees his ex, Mai, among them. Shooting Toph a glare which she can't see, (yet seems to smirk at anyway) Zuko growls under his breath.

Toph blows on a whistle. "Alright you sad excuses for boys. I assume some pretty ladies are waiting in there, so go sit your asses down opposite them. You've got three minutes to chat each of them up before I blow the whistle and you move on. My lovely assistant is handing out clipboards-" she mutters, just as Zuko is handed one by his Uncle, along with a pen. "For you to tick the names of any girls you like. Let's go, go, go!" She yells, channelling a drill sergeant.

The boys scramble around each other to the chairs, causing a ripple of giggles among the girls clutching their own clipboards. Zuko, Sokka and Aang glance at each other, used to Toph's antics, though no less intimidated. It quickly became clear why she was hosting this event, and it was not for charity, her parents or anything like that; it was for shits and giggles.

Zuko looks behind him at the door, which Toph was already pulling shut, glancing in his general direction with sightless eyes. She then turns the lock with a sharp snap. Sweat pricks the back of his neck and Zuko quickly follows his friends, shooting his Uncle a glare, who waved happily.

Sitting down stiffly in his seat, he watches as Sokka joins him on his right, Aang sitting on the chair next to Sokka. Breathing out, Zuko doesn't even notice who was seated opposite him until the whistle blows again and he's jolting his head up- staring straight at Ty Lee.

Her warm eyes glitter as she grins, "hey there Zuko! It's great to see you again." Her perky voice washes over him, and Zuko stiffens. He hadn't just sat down in-front of his ex's best friend, nope. Mai wasn't sitting immediately on Ty-lee's left...next in line...and already glaring daggers at him.

A hand waved in front of his face, and Zuko blinks. "Hellloo in there? Your aura is all red and cloudy," Ty Lee's brows draw together, just as Zuko pushes her wrist aside.

"You still believe in that stuff, huh? Some things never change," he mutters in a gravelly voice, trying not to get hostile. It was difficult though, Ty-lee was automatically associated as a part of his sisters friend group. Anything said to her was usually passed on.

"Well of course, silly. It's easier to believe in stuff if you can see it, but I think I'd like aura's even if I couldn't, you know? They've always appealed to me, and they help people stand out from one another~" she chirps.

He supposed that made sense, seeing as how she had six identical sisters. Zuko grunts, before making an effort to be polite. "Uh...so you said mine was red?"

"Yeah! But it's so...yeesh." She looks around the outline of his form, wincing and making a face that immediately had Zuko's back up.

"What? What's wrong with my aura?" He demands. He was not ready to believe in them, but he'd be damned if someone was going to look down on his red glowy essence.

Her hands waved around in the air, "oh it's just too much. It fluctuates all the time! Sometimes it's light red, like when I saw you at the door with your friends. Just a minute ago it was murky and dark, but now it's positively sparking! So blotchy. You definitely need a blue aura to balance you out. My pink one would be overwhelmed." She nods knowingly, eyes already straying away.

Zuko blinks slowly. He didn't know how or why, but it felt like he'd just been rejected based entirely on his aura.

Irritation boiled under his skin. He hadn't even done anything! At this rate, the whole evening was looking hopeless. He glances to his right- hearing Sokka laughing with a pale haired girl. Zuko grits his teeth, hands curling into fists on his knees. His scar gave a phantom pulse, as it did sometimes when he was aware of it. He'd been trying to ignore the stares, but a few girls down the rows of tables had been glancing at the scar. It was something he was used to, but now the feeling was gradually escalating.

Just as his fists began to tremble, something enters his line of sight. Zuko looks at the steaming rim of a cup in-front of him, glancing up at wizened old eyes. "Have a drink, my nephew."

"Thank you, uncle." Zuko rasps, taking the tea into his pale hands. He felt a comforting pat on his back, before the nostalgic warmth at his side drew away.

The whistle blew sharply, and Zuko quickly rose. Ty-lee waves him off, and he grunts a goodbye, reluctantly sitting down in the next chair.

Mai folds her arms, looking at him levelly. "Hello Zuko," she greets dispassionately.

"Hey, uh...you look well," he winces, sipping his tea. It burned his tongue, but he didn't care, it was something else to focus on aside from how awkward this was.

"Nothing of note has changed about my appearance since we last saw each other," she stifles a yawn, inspecting her nails. But Zuko knew Mai. This was just how she acted when she was being guarded. That was fine, he didn't want to talk either.

"Right..." he nods, staring fixedly at the steaming cup. Contrary to what he'd initially thought, three minutes was starting to look like a very long stretch of time.

Hearing a sigh, Zuko looks up to see Mai glancing in Toph's direction. "Hey, organiser. If the person in front of you is an ex, can we skip them?" She asks tonelessly.

Toph lifts a shoulder, leaning against the wall. "If you want, figure it out among yourselves," she waves them off, showing her amazing organisation skills.

Mai looks at Zuko pointedly, who narrows his eyes, but bites back a retort. The memory of an ugly breakup rears it's head, and he's quickly rising, stepping back and awkwardly making a bee-line for Iroh, who was pouring tea for a girl.

"This is dumb," he hisses quietly, ignoring the table his uncle was serving. "I'm out of here, there's no point in staying."

A dusty chuckle escapes Iroh, "try telling that to miss Beifong, I don't think she'd be too pleased." Zuko opens his mouth, but his Uncle claps him on the shoulder. "Stay a little longer. You never know what destiny has in store in the most unexpected places."

The whistle blows again before Zuko can reply, but exasperation drops his shoulders. Stupid proverb thing. Just as he turns, Zuko glances at the girl Iroh had been serving, and stills. Blue eyes were already on him, before they widened and flew back to her 'date.'

Stunned, Zuko quickly pads away, sitting down in his seat and saying a quick apology to the girl in front of him as he grabs Sokka's arm. "You didn't tell me your sister was here," he whispers in a rush, eyes slightly wide.

Sokka blinks at him, "huh, really? She didn't say anything about coming when I mentioned it. If she's here though, I wonder if Suki joined her," he gives a lopsided grin, completely unaware of Zuko's dilemma.

Zuko drops his arm and sighs with dismay, conflicted emotions returning to him. "Great..." he trails off, remembering high school. Seemed like his past was haunting him today. He tries to push the thought of magnetic blue eyes to the back of his mind.

He finally looks at the girl before him, "sorry- your name was?"

"Ah, don't worry about it. I'm Meng, it's nice to meet you- hey, you're friends with Aang, right?" The girl burst out in a blur of words. Zuko was sent reeling, but reluctantly nods. The girl with dark hair sighs dreamily, "Meng sounds just like Aang, doesn't it? It's like we're meant to be."

Zuko stares at her, slowly glancing towards Aang and wondering if they should switch seats. Unlike when Zuko had been talking to her however, Ty Lee was now happily engaged in conversation, animatedly waving her hands as Aang laughs and nods.

"How do you know Aang, again?" Zuko resigns himself to asking.

Meng grins and clasps her hands, "we go to the same coffee shop. He orders hot chocolate with marshmallows every time, and takes a medium size- but will sometimes order a large if he feels like splurging. Did you know our favourite colour is yellow? How crazy is that! Also, our birthdays are only two months apart!"

Zuko was sent into orbit again, his mind going blank. He clears his throat, not knowing how much time had passed- only to jump when the whistle blows again. Meng slides a piece of paper over the table to him and smiles.

"Can you hand this over? I'm too shy to give my number to him outright, thanks!"

Zuko dimly nods, picking up the folded paper and stuffing it into his pocket. He then rises, noticing Sokka giving him the thumbs up, winking with both eyes. Exhaling, Zuko trudges to the next seat, expecting the next girl to have a fixation with Sokka or something.

This girl had brunette hair in a long braid, her appearance overall sweet and polite. "Hello, I'm Song," she inclines her head.

He warily nods, "Zuko. You uh...been to one of these before?"

"Oh no, it's my first time. It's a little awkward isn't it?" She smiles, making Zuko feel slightly more at ease.

"No kidding. At least the tea isn't so bad here."

She nods happily, "I agree! It's wonderful, such a nice cafe too." Taking a moment to glance around, she gives a slight sigh. "It's a little nostalgic though, my family used to own a cafe just like this one, but it got shut down."

Zuko blinks, pausing mid sip and setting his tea down. "Really? How?"

Her hand comes up to her chin thoughtfully. "Oh I forget- something to do with the Agni Corporation, as usual. They always ruin small businesses, I'm sure that's no surprise." She gives a weak laugh, shrugging it off to minimise what must have been a large amount of distress at the time.

Zuko had stiffened the moment she'd mentioned that name. His eyes became downcast, fixated on his calloused hand around the cooling cup. His family had ruined hers. And like she said, that was no surprise. Agni Corp were infamous for dominating most of of the city businesses, and were almost impossible to escape from.

"...Right," he mumbles at length, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders.

"Anyway, we're in the medical field now. So how long have you-" but Zuko was barely paying attention anymore. He gave weak responses, his mind swirling. This was why he hadn't dated much. Almost everyone in the city had come into contact in some way with his family. The empire they'd amassed was vast and dominated the business world. Almost every store down the city streets was owned by them, or in some kind of deal. How could he expect to date someone when they'd reject him sooner or later, once they found out where he was from?

The whistle blew, and Zuko rose, still holding his tea like it was a passenger. He nods soberly to Song, who smiles politely, unsure what she'd said to make him so quiet.

The girls from then on passed in a blur. Zuko tried his best to keep up with them, but in the back of his mind, the niggling doubt that had opened up since speaking with Song was prevalent.

One girl commented on his eyes, and apparently the likelihood of them having a brown eyed child was 75%.

Another had stroked his hand and suggested they 'find somewhere quiet' after this.

And a particularly blunt one asked him outright how he'd gotten his scar.

"That's none of your business!" He snarls, hackles rising.

He gratefully stands the moment the whistle blew, storming away from the table and sitting down at the next in an exhausted huff. He runs a hand through his hair, looking at his long since cold tea. He just wanted to go home.

"You've done something different with your hair," a voice points out. Amber eyes snap up to meet blue, and Zuko swallows.

"Katara," he greets in a gravelly voice, glancing away. "Uh...yeah. Aang said it changes a lot, haven't really noticed though."

Katara looks him over, taking in the ridged set of his shoulders and tense appearance. She leans in slightly, "you know, that girl has been saying stuff like that all night. She asked this one guy, Haru, why he had a caterpillar on his lip." Her fingers come up to gesture to her upper lip, making Zuko's cheeks heat even as he hums.

"I mean...it does kind of look like one," he mumbles, blinking as she lets out a noise, her hand hiding her mouth as she quickly stifles it and collects herself.

Dancing blue eyes slowly sharpen, and Zuko looks at her levelly, having expected her wrath. All she said though was; "you were a jerk in high school."

He readily nods, lips thinning. She continues, brushing some of her brunette hair aside that fell in waves down her back. "I still remember when you burned my hair in science class with that Bunsen burner-"

"That was an accident! And you should have tied your hair up better!" He growls, even as guilt gnaws at him.

"It was in a braid! You weren't watching where you were holding the flame!"

Katara's cheeks colour and she waves her hands erratically in the air. "Well how about that time you thought it would be a great idea to slip an ice cube down the back of my shirt! I ended up throwing my drink in Mr. Pakku's face and getting detention for a week!"

Zuko quiets and lifts a shoulder, "I mean he kind of deserved it."

"Yeah he kind of did," Katara gave him that, muttering something about a 'sexist old goatfish' under her breath. She took a breath and glares at him, pointing a lithe finger in his direction and causing him to swallow. "Alright then. How about the name calling? Peasant, really? And undermining me in your class, just because I'd skipped a grade. It was hard enough to be there without a pompous brat ridiculing me. And your sister used to badly bully Aang- which, by the way, you're on very thin ice for."

The room was drowned out as Zuko remembers it. How he'd turned a blind eye to it once, willingly- just to try and score brownie points with Azula, in order to be seen by his father.

They both sit back after a moment, realising they'd leaned in close over the table.

Zuko resists the urge to fold his arms, instead resting his clenched hand on the edge of the table. "Look, I can't change the past but...for what it's worth, I'm sorry, for how I treated you. How I treated everyone. It was wrong."

She blinks, looking as though she hadn't expected that. Her gaze falls away from his earnest expression, resting on their friends. "I know you've been living with Sokka and Aang for a little while now."

"Yeah," he mumbles, expecting another tongue lashing.

"I also heard it's because you left your Father's company. I'm...really glad."

Zuko lifts his head with surprise. No one had really said it that way before, and for some reason, his heart thuds quicker. He tries to gauge her expression. "Thanks?"

"You're welcome. But don't think this means I'm not still mad at you," she frowns.

"I kind of figured, seeing as how you've never visited Sokka's apartment since I had to room with them."

"Surprised they took you in, honestly. But Aang's always been the forgiving type," she mutters, and Zuko wonders if that was exempting herself. She smirks after a moment, "he mentioned they didn't make it easy though," blue eyes shine with mirth.

"We don't talk about that," Zuko mumbles, shuddering with the memory of his 'initiation' into the group. Katara giggles, her shoulders shaking. Zuko's cheeks heat, eyes narrowing as he opens his mouth-

A sharp sound rings out, and disappointment washes over him like a tidal wave. He didn't know why, but he suddenly hated that whistle with an intensity that startled even him. Katara straightens, sobering instantly. Neither move as the other men rise from their seats, and Zuko had the ridiculous urge not to budge. Realising how childish that was though, he grasps the edge of the table and shifts to stand.

"Toph, can't siblings fall under the 'skip' rule? I mean no offence but I don't want to date my brother," Katara raises her voice, causing Zuko to pause. Sokka made the appropriate gagging noises as Toph tsks.

"Sure, sure. Skip gross brothers."

"Hey!" Sokka sniffs with offence, passing around Zuko and taking what would have been his seat. Suki smiles at him, and a goofy grin lights up his face.

Zuko lingers where he is, uncertain, until Katara gestures for him to sit. He retakes his seat, not commenting on anything for fear it would draw attention to the slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"So uh...what have you been up to? Still doing Tai chi?" He asks quietly.

At that, she smiles and confidently nods, leaning forward on her elbows. "Of course, and I'm studying for my medical degree."

He gives a small answering smile, her obvious enthusiasm contagious. "Yeah? How's that going?"

And Zuko couldn't really explain how or why, but as she launched into an impassioned rant about the new techniques she'd learned in Tai chi and the medical field, her eyes blazing as the words rolled off her tongue, Zuko remained in a state of...pride? Why was he even proud of this girl? He'd known her in high-school as the annoyance that would astutely call out the answers in class, and who bested him in martial arts. The peasant girl who never yielded to every harsh word he sent her way, when he'd used to lash out at the world.

She seemed more certain in her abilities now, a fuller person, and he realised that the girl he'd used to argue with in class had transformed into someone else, though parts of her still remained.

Namely the hair loopies.

He then wished they hadn't met in high school, when pain and humiliation had scarred his face. If they could have met this night, without all that other crap, would she have looked at him differently?

A terrifying desire was unearthed as he watches her, and Zuko realises that he wanted her to. He wanted to be seen differently. By her.

Katara reeled herself in and took a breath, having the grace to look apologetic. "Sorry, I'm rambling all about myself. You go, I want to know what you've been up to since you left the Agni Corporation...and maybe why you decided to leave." She trails off, in a more subdued voice.

Zuko steeles himself, looking down at his calloused hands. He takes a breath, lifting his head, and she blinks, attention fixed on him with a quiet intentness. "I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep living a lie, pretending that what we were doing there wasn't hurting people. I've spent so long wanting my father's approval, but even when I felt like I had it...I didn't like the person I'd become getting it."

He gives a rueful smile, chuckling. "It's like I can't be content with what I have, right?"

Zuko starts when her hand shifts across the table, her fingers resting lightly on his knuckles.

The whistle blows again. He barely notices it, tethered to the slight sensation on his hand. He hears the others standing again and that stubbornness from earlier returns. He wanted to keep talking to her.

Turning slightly in his seat, he looks at Aang as he approaches. "Hey uh...you two dated, right? Shouldn't the skip rule apply?"

Both Aang and Katara blink, slightly thrown, before Toph snorts and raises her brows. "Seriously?"

Aang chuckles and grins at Katara, "yeah that's right, I think Katara was my first girlfriend. How old were we again?”

"I think you were 12," she mumbles, shrinking slightly in her seat as Toph bursts into a laugh. "You dated a 12 year old when you were 14? Wow, brave move at school."

Aang laughs amiably and pats Zuko's shoulder as he passes, taking a seat in front of Suki.

Katara rubs her temples, cheeks heated, "how did you know about that anyway?" She mumbles, turning her suddenly curious gaze to his.

"H-huh? It was just something I happened to notice!" He burst, trying to downplay his emotions and failing miserably. He was treated to another soft giggle from her, and his heart did a funny thing in his chest.

The speed dating event eventually drew to a close, with conversations dying down around them. Iroh ushered the stragglers out, bidding them a good night. Toph would be sending the matches their contact numbers, though a few patrons had already swapped them. Aang had left, and Sokka wasn't far behind, lingering in the entrance with Suki and laughing with her at his own joke.

Zuko and Katara were still chatting at the table, and his eyes broke away for a moment to glance over his shoulder, blinking. "Wait...where did everyone go?"

"I think the event must be over? Ah- rude! Suki just left with Sokka," Katara squeaks, pointing at the now vacant doorway. She deflates in her seat, "she was supposed to walk back with me."

"I could walk you," Zuko immediately offers, before the tip of his right ear burned with heat and he looks away. "N-not in a weird date way or anything, obviously," he awkwardly amends.

"Obviously?" She raises a brow, crossing her arms while glaring daggers. "What am I not good enough for you or something?"

Zuko quickly back-peddled, his mind plunged into deep waters of confusion, "wha-no! I just didn't think you'd want...that." He trailed off lamely, his good cheek burning now.

Katara sniffs, "well maybe I should decide what I want," she stands, offering a mischievous smile as she ruffles his thick dark hair. "Relax, Mr. Floofy."

"Okay no-" Zuko growls, standing and visibly blanching. "I'm already traumatised by Azula's nicknames, 'Sifu Hot-man,' and Mr. Gloomy. No more, ever."

Her laughter reaches him, and his shoulders drop, a little defeated by the happy sound. They pad to the door together, passing his Uncle, who covertly offers him a thumbs up when Katara isn't looking. Zuko stiffens and slowly shakes his head, continuing out with her. She'd never think of him that way, Katara had just been teasing. That's all.

By the time they stepped foot outside it was ridiculously late. The sky had darkened into pitch black, stretching over their heads and only interrupted by a bright full moon. The air was crisp and clear, what with the incense having burned out long before. Zuko continued chatting with Katara, noticing she'd lightly swat his arm when he said something impudent, or how her hand had brushed his accidentally as they walked.

He couldn't help but feel like there was more he wanted to say and speak with her about, rather than just small talk. Safe conversation...

But he wasn't a part of her friend group, and he wasn't sure she'd ever want him to be. As for as she was concerned, this was probably just a way of tying up loose ends. She'd said her piece to her childhood 'oppressor' and could wipe her hands of him.

"So, do you want to go to the movies next Saturday?" Katara suggests, causing his head to snap to the side so fast he got whip-lash.

"W-what?" He asks, voice squeaking like it'd forgotten he'd undergone puberty already. He quickly clears his throat.

"I mean with everyone else, obviously," she corrects with a cheeky grin, elbowing him. "And I get to choose. Ohh there's this one out called The Puppetmaster."

Zuko waves his hand in the air, stopping with her once they reached the door of an apartment complex which he assumed to be hers. "No- that's fine," he rasps weakly, straightening and looking her in the eye. "But...are you sure you want to spend more time with me?"

"I'm spending time with you now, aren't I?" She arches her brow, and he was once again left at sea, a poor marooned man on an island called 'Katara.' He just didn't understand.

He rubs his scarred brow, frowning deeply. "Why though?"

Katara sighs, glancing away and pursing her lips. "You're being dumb," she mutters, causing his hackles to rise. Before he could growl out a response, he feels fingers wrap around his own. He looks at the dark skin and registers it as hers as she pulls his hand away from his brow slowly. Reaching up on her tip toes then- his eyes widen as her face comes closer.

He feels something vague against the scarred side of his face, like the brush of something gentle. He hears her lips make a soft noise, before it's over and she's pulling away.

Zuko's hand reaches up again to touch his scar, and he curses not being able to feel it properly. "What was that?"

"Would've thought a guy that looks like you would know what a kiss is." Katara snorts, her brows drawing together as his expression shutters. "Hey, stop that. I didn't mean it that way. You're pretty...uhh...you know...pretty!" She exclaims, cheeks heating.

He blinks, arching his good brow. "Pretty?"

"Urgh, fine. You're as sensitive to feminine sounding compliments as Sokka, you've been hanging out with him too much." She mumbles, fiddling with her keys as she takes them out of her bag, focusing on the metal in her hand and not on his intent gaze. "H-handsome then," she quietly amends.

When no trace of arrogance lights his expression, and Zuko instead looks even more perplexed, Katara sets her hands on her hips. "Look, I know you and Mai have this on and off again thing, but if you ever want to get with a girl that isn't her, you've got to have more confidence in yourself."

Zuko feels something warm his insides. How did she know what his situation with Mai was? "You're right. I didn't even want to come tonight. But how can I expect someone to be with me when I'm not...complete yet? I'm still trying to find my feet outside of my identity of Agni Corps heir. I can't ask someone to go out with me as I am, it's unrealistic."

He falls silent then. Huh, how easy it was to be honest around her and not fear any backlash.

Katara brushes her hair back from her face and fluffs it slightly, glancing at him. "Well, maybe you start by asking. Let them decide if it's unrealistic." She turns, opening the door and glancing at him over her shoulder. "And...I'm not complete either. No one is. We're all still learning, so don't beat yourself up so much. I can...see that you're really trying. We all have to start somewhere, right?"

He stares at her, remembering that his uncle had said something similar to him, after he'd told him his decision to leave Agni Corp.

'I don't have all the answers, my Nephew. I'm still learning myself, even at my age. We are all just life's humble students, and Experience is our teacher.'

Zuko nodded along with his, looking at the clouds as they drifted by. "We just have to take a bite out of the silver sandwich..."

Iroh had blinked, and then smiled broadly, "oh yeah. That works too.'

Despite how much her words resonated with him however, Zuko could only blurt: "So...you don't think my aura is red and blotchy?"

He then definitely wanted to open his mouth and insert his foot, but Katara only grins and rolls her eyes. "Ty-lee got to you too, huh? She said mine was all blue and 'too bold' for most people."

Zuko nods slowly, "I can see that," he mutters, watching her eyes flash. He shoots her a small smile, "but I bet it's a good blue. Bold is...just another word for strong."

Katara hesitates, giving him an answering smile that gentled her eyes.

After saying their goodbyes, Zuko starts back home, burying his hands in his pockets. As his hand brushes something, he stops and takes it out. It was the list of girl's names that he was supposed to put ticks against and hand back to Toph. If the chosen girls had also ticked his name, then the organiser would pass along their numbers.

Zuko stares down at it, but really, he didn't need to hesitate. He puts a tick next to Katara's name and soon places it in the blind girls hands.

"I can't read, genius." She snips, handing it to Iroh, who just chuckles knowingly.

A few days later, when Zuko was laying on his bed one lazy morning, he hears his phone make a noise. Sitting up, his eye's widen slightly at the screen.

His thumb brushes the keypad, slowly typing: "So, do you want to go out sometime?...Just us?"

She chimes back a few minutes later, with a reply that tugs his lips up into a smile.

"Obviously."

[e350tb]

Steven Universe: Marooned Together - Chapter Sixteen

(with thanks to @real-fakedoors for proofreading! READ HER STUFF, EVERYONE.)

Lapis stood just beyond the treeline, the beach and the sound of the ocean behind her. She could hear the waves behind her, crashing to the shore as the high tide came in. The birds and small animals she often heard in the jungle were quiet - there wasn’t much nocturnal life on the island - and the absence made her feel incredibly, terribly alone.

This was it, she thought - it was over. She was going to lose everything, and Stevonnie would never want her to come back after that argument. No, it was better to just leave, to shrink into the jungle, to live alone once again; it was better for everyone…

“So, where we going?”

Lapis jumped and spun around. Amethyst had walked up behind her, and was now casually leaning against a tree. Her face was twisted into a casual smile, as if she'd randomly come across her while wandering around a store or back street. It was somehow both endearing and infuriating.

“Amethyst?!” exclaimed Lapis, “How did you find me?”

“Dude, you're literally a hundred yards from the barn,” replied Amethyst, “I'm pretty sure they can still see us.”

She leaned back, cheerfully waving towards the distant shape of the barn.

“I… look, I'm leaving, okay? Just leave me…”

“No you're not,” replied Amethyst, “If you wanted to leave forever, you'd have flown off into space by now, right?”

“I…”

“Yeah, thought so,” Amethyst nodded, “So how about instead of sitting around beating yourself up for however long, why don't you just talk to someone?”

Lapis pursed her lips, doubtful. "And that's supposed to be you?"

"Why not?" The shorter gem responded with a shrug, expression just the right amount of smug to rub Lapis the wrong way. She didn’t get it; she was part of the problem.

"No thanks," she replied curtly, storming off deeper into the forest. The sound of twigs crackling and bushes bristling behind her annoyed her to no end, and she stopped before they'd made it ten-feet deeper.

“What are you doing?" She demanded, spinning on her heel and glaring at Amethyst, "Are you seriously going to follow me around until I - what? Open up to you?”

“Yeah! Let’s go camping!”

Lapis growled, clenching her fists and marching into the trees. “Go away.”

Amethyst smiled and followed, whistling to herself. “Not a chance. So you can keep nagging or suck it up, cause unless you’re ready to bolt it off-planet, you’re stuck with me.”

Swallowing down the urge to fling curses over her shoulder, Lapis just grit her teeth and kept walking. Camping, huh?

This, she thought, was going to be interesting.

The sun rose slowly over the waterfall, catching in the cascade with a dazzling spray of beautiful colours. A rainbow could be faintly seen shimmering over the damp rocks, and Amethyst felt the water lap around her ankles as it snaked down towards the sea. She could hear the long, deep calls of birds - or at least she thought they were birds - in the distance.

“Niiiiice, Laz.” she nodded, “I can see why you stayed here.”

Lapis grunted. She was laying on top of the stream, staring blankly at the sky through the tree cover. If she had a grungy band t-shirt and a cheap cigarette dangling from her lips, Amethyst thought she would be a shoe-in for a moody teenager.

Amethyst stepped over - for a moment, she felt something slimy under her foot, and privately hoped it was seaweed.

“You wanna talk?” she asked.

“About what?” Lapis demanded.

Amethyst shrugged. “Anything.”

She sat down in the shallow water next to the blue gem.

“I ever tell you about the time I left Peri on an asteroid?” she asked.

“You what?” Lapis replied incredulously.

Amethyst let out a humourless chuckle, absently playing with a few strands of her hair.

“We got into an argument - can't even remember what started it now,” she continued, “And we were exploring this space rock that some Homeworld bigwig was mining for coal or ore or something, and I just told her that if she didn't pull herself together, I was just gonna straight up leave her. And she called me a clod and said she'd be happier alone, so I just… snapped, you know?”

“So you left her?” replied Lapis, “That's… harsh. But I guess it's no different to what I did.”

“Well it is,” shrugged Amethyst, “‘Cause I came back two hours later, and… well, we hugged and we cried a lot, and then we went back to the cabin, watched some CPH, and then we…”

She trailed off, thinking for a moment.

“...you comfortable talking about this?” she asked.

“About what, you and Peridot watching TV?” replied Lapis.

“No, about…” Amethyst scratched the back of her head. “Well, you know… making love.”

Lapis blinked.

“Getting physical.”

Lapis blinked again.

“Sex!” Amethyst exclaimed, gesticulating with her arms.

“Oh,” said Lapis, “You could've just said that. I mean, I know what it is, I think… is there a reason you brought this up?”

Amethyst shrugged.

“I guess the point was, people fight, then they forgive each other. Or they don't… I…”

She laid back, her head splashing into the water, long hair fanning out over the gentle current.

“I should've thought about where I was going before I started talking,” she muttered, “I guess I'm saying… it's gonna be okay?”

They lay in silence for something.

“Well,” said Lapis, “You tried. I guess.”

There was a short silence, and then Amethyst snorted and began to laugh.

“I’m on mah wae, from misery tae happiness todaeh…”

“What are you doing?”

Lapis and Amethyst were trudging down a muddy slope - or rather, Amethyst was, and Lapis was floating just above it. The smaller gem didn’t mind; she was singing merrily and stomping down on the wet mud, grinning as it splashed around under her feet. The accent was strange, and Lapis guessed that even if she could place it, it would still be a poor imitation of the real thing.

“Singing an old Earth song,” replied Amethyst, “This one used to drive Pearl nuts.”

“Can you stop?” asked Lapis testily.

“Sure, sure, I got another one!”

Amethyst cleared her throat.

“And I would walk five hundred miles, and I would walk five hundred more, just to be the gem who walked a thousand mi-AAAAAH!”

She slipped, falling hard on her back and sliding down the slope to the bottom, coming to rest against a tree trunk.

“Ow,” she grunted.

She sat up, and for a moment Lapis thought that she might finally be finished singing.

Her hopes were soon dashed.

“I can’t get no - DUN NAH NAH NAH - satisfaction…”

Lapis sighed as they walked onwards, Amethyst’s singing echoing in the distance.

“Lapis, do you wanna have sex?”

Lapis raised an eyebrow.

“What, you mean right now?”

“Aw geez, no, I didn't mean… I mean in general,” replied Amethyst, “Like, if you were dating someone, and…”

They had stopped in front of the old Homeworld mine, the sun now high in the sky. They sat in the shade of a tall tree, Lapis again watching the clouds. She'd been doing this all day - walking, then sitting or lying down and watching something - and Amethyst wondered if it was her way of letting off steam.

Lapis pursed her lips, thinking.

“Do you have to?” she replied, “Like, if you love someone, or if you're dating someone, do you have to…?”

“Nah, dude,” shrugged Amethyst, “There's no rules or anything. Took years before Peri was comfortable with it. If you don't wanna, you don't gotta. And I get the feeling you don't wanna.”

Lapis shook her head.

“It just… I don't get it,” she said, “I read ‘novels’ and they say it's really important, and it's what makes love love, but…”

“Well, what do you think it is?” asked Amethyst.

Lapis bit her lip, blushing.

“Uh… dancing?” she replied, “Holding hands? Uh, hugging? Maybe kissing, I guess? Just…”

“Being intimate?”

“Yeah.”

Lapis sighed, looking down at her feet.

“Is that wrong?” she asked.

“Nah, you're probably just ace,” replied Amethyst, “Plenty of people are! Like Peedee, he's a bit ace, I think he calls it grey…”

“Ace?” quizzed Lapis.

“Asexual.” Amethyst smiled. “Means you don't feel sexual attraction.”

“Oh.”

For the first time all day, Lapis managed a small smile. She looked back up at the clouds drifting by.

“I think I like the sound of that.”

“Why did you decide to fight?”

It was evening now, and they were sitting by the sea on the other side of the island. The beach wasn’t actually that different to the one by the barn - it was a different view, certainly, but there was still the same sea breeze, the same smell, the same picturesque, greenish sunset (although the sun now set over the island rather than the sea - that was definitely a downgrade.)

Amethyst looked up from the fire she’d been trying to make for half-an-hour.

“I’m a quartz, Lapis,” shrugged Amethyst, “It just comes to me.”

“So you’ve never even thought of just… hiding?” asked Lapis.

Amethyst opened her mouth, but stopped for a moment - she seemed to ruminate over her next few words.

“Yeah,” she replied, “Once.”

Lapis didn’t say anything, so she continued.

“There was this Carnelian,” she said, “Not the one from the Zoo, a different one - she joined our crew for a while. She was just… so optimistic, so hell-bent on giving Homeworld a kick up the…”

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again they seemed sombre, haunted.

“One time we raided a Homeworld lab,” she said, “It was a stupid idea but I promised a friend I’d look for… something. Anyway, we got seperated and Carnelian got cornered by an Agate and her soldiers. I just… I just remember running to get there and then…”

She took up a handful of sand.

“...dust. Just… red dust,” she said hollowly, “It wasn’t enough for them to shatter her, they had to… grind her into… into fucking sand. Just to make absolutely sure she wouldn’t come back.”

“What did you do to the Agate?” asked Lapis.

Amethyst gazed down at her hands. She opened her fingers, and the sand slowly trickled down to the Earth.

“You never forget the first time you shatter a gem,” she replied.

The air seemed to turn colder, and Lapis resisted the urge to shiver.

“Anyway, me and Peri talked about it. We were gonna take the Avenger, find some planet in the middle of nowhere and just stay there. But, I just remember that… that red dust, and I think…”

She clenched her fists again.

“Nobody should have to go through that,” she finished, “Not if I can help it.”

They said nothing else as the sun set and darkness fell, but Lapis found she didn’t mind. There was a  lot to think about.

The sky was blood red.

Lapis stood on top of a pile of shattered wood by the beach, staring at the twisted remains of a blue ship - the Crystal Avenger. She tasted burning steel and the tang of copper -- blood -- in the air as choking, black ash rained down from the sky.

Slowly and numbly, she stepped towards the wreckage. She could see a glint of green - Peridot! She had to help her, she thought; she had to save her from the strange blight that had fallen upon them.

But as she approached, she saw another small glint, and another, and another…

Shattered.

She fell to her knees, clutching her head. This couldn’t be happening - it just couldn’t! Suddenly she could hear a hideous screaming sound, drilling into her very being. The world around was drained of colour - her vision was filled with white light, and she forced her eyes closed.

“You can't hide forever, Starlight.”

The voice sent a shiver down Lapis’ spine.

She opened her eyes. She was standing in a pure white void, almost so bright as to be painful. In front of her, she could see Stevonnie, sword drawn, looking up at something. Lapis followed their gaze - her eyes widened.

White Diamond towered above them, a serene smile on her face. She almost looked motherly.

“L-leave me alone!” shouted Stevonnie, “I don't want…”

“Oh, but it doesn't matter what we want,” replied White Diamond, “We have a duty. Come home, Starlight - end this silly little game.”

She reached out her titanic hand, aiming to scoop up the fusion.

“No!”

Lapis found herself running, bolting past Stevonnie and standing in front of them, arms outstretched.

“Get away from them!” she bellowed.

White Diamond stared down at her. Fear ran through her being, and her mind scolded her - this is stupid, Lapis, just run, save yourself - but she refused to move.

Suddenly, White Diamond smirked.

“Well,” she said, “Isn't this interesting?”

She extended a long, manicured finger and swiftly lowered it towards Lapis. There was no time to dodge - she closed her eyes and braced…

“Lapis? Dude, you okay?”

Lapis shot up, clutching her head.

She was back on the beach, Amethyst kneeling down next to her. The sea was calm, the sky clear and dotted with stars - everything was normal.

“It was… it was a dream,” she muttered, holding her arms tightly over her chest, worried she might come apart if she let her seams exposed.

“Looked more like a nightmare from here,” said Amethyst.

Lapis shook her head, taking slow, deliberate breaths to calm down.

“I saw White Diamond,” she said, “And Stevonnie, and… and I stood up to her.”

“Cool,” nodded Amethyst.

“Not cool!” exclaimed Lapis, “I think I died!”

“But you stood up for yourself, dude!” replied Amethyst, “You fought for something! Do you get it now?”

“Get it… no! I… I don't…”

Lapis stood up, clenching her fists.

“Stop trying to manipulate me!” she shouted.

“Manipulate you?” Amethyst stood up too. “What do you mean, manipulate you?”

“It's just like at the barn!” growled Lapis, “When you were telling Stevonnie they have to fight, that the Diamonds are gonna find us! You don't know that! You're just trying to get ‘em to…”

“I'm trying?” Amethyst threw her arms out. “Open your eyes, Lapis! They were always gonna fight back. It's who they are! It's who they're made of! Connie was always a fighter, and Steven couldn't stand to see anyone hurt…”

“And you preyed on that!” Lapis shouted, pointing a finger at Amethyst, “You knew that if you just pushed them into…”

“So I nudged them a little,” snapped Amethyst, “It’s still their choice, Lapis, not yours!”

She crossed her arms.

“Why the hell do you care, anyway?” she demanded.

“What do you mean, why do I care?” spluttered Lapis.

“As long as nothing happens to your barn or your island, why do you care what happens to Stevonnie?” Amethyst spat, “I mean, you can always just leave ‘em, right? Like you did to Peridot…”

“Don't you dare…”

“Well, tell me!” thundered Amethyst, “Why does it matter now when it didn't before? What changed? Why do you care so much about…”

“Well maybe I’ve changed! You ever think about that?!” demanded Lapis, “Maybe I don’t wanna be that person anymore! Maybe I’m done hurting people! And maybe I just want to be able to live my life with Stevonnie without someone trying to get them to join some crazy resistance movement…”

“It’s not crazy, Lazuli, it’s the only way-”

“You’re gonna get the one person I love killed!”

There was a long silence, the last cry echoing in the darkness.

Her energy fading, Lapis sat down in the sand, clutching her temples. Slowly, Amethyst sat down too.

“Whoa,” she muttered, “That got pretty heated.”

“Yeah,” sighed Lapis.

Amethyst bit her lip.

“So, uh… love, huh?”

“I… I don't know what this feeling is,” said Lapis at last, “If it's like you and Peridot or if it's just friends or something else, but… but I don't want to live without them, and I just… I can't bear to think of them being killed, and I know that's selfish, but I…”

Amethyst sighed.

“Lapis, that's not selfish at all,” she replied.

Lapis lay back, staring at the stars.

“They're gonna fight, aren't they?” she said wearily, “I can't stop them.”

“Probably,” nodded Amethyst.

Lapis closed her eyes and took another deep, deliberate breath.

“Guess there's only one thing I can do.”

Wearily, Stevonnie paced the barn. The early morning sun was slowly peeking through the door, filling the barn with its faint light green It had been two nights, and there was still no sign of Lapis or Amethyst. Peridot was sitting on the hammock, reading an old magazine - her legs dangled over the side. In the distance, they could see Lenny, C and Z leaving the Crystal Avenger to get back to work on the warp pad.

“Where are they?” Stevonnie muttered to themself, restlessly scanning the horizons for a spot of purple or blue.

“Eh, Amethyst will be back,” replied Peridot, “Give it another couple of days.”

“Does this happen a lot with you guys?” asked Stevonnie, turning to the green gem.

“Well, usually I come along,” shrugged Peridot, “But sometimes Blue Zircon gets lonely and someone has to stay with her to make sure she doesn’t panic and take the ship back to New Earth, and…”

A wooden board creaked, and Stevonnie turned around.

Lapis stood in the doorway, arm behind her back. She smiled nervously.

“I… um… I just wanna say…”

Stevonnie lunged forward, pulling their barnmate into a tight hug.

“Lapis, I’m sorry!” they exclaimed, “I didn’t mean to-”

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry!” replied Lapis, “I just left on you, and…”

“Yeah, because I wouldn’t accept…”

“I wouldn’t accept your point of…”

“You can both be sorry, you clods!” Peridot shouted.

Stevonnie stepped back, letting go of Lapis.

“I, uh, if you want me to-” they began.

“No,” replied Lapis, “I… I know I can’t stop you from fighting, and I’ve been thinking, and…”

She took a deep breath.

“I wanna fight with you,” she said, “Just… I don’t want you to do it alone. Is that okay?”

Stevonnie grinned, their eyes watering.

“Lapis,” they replied, “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

As they pulled each other into another hug, Amethyst climbed into the barn and casually strolled up to Peridot.

“Why do other people’s relationships have to be so complicated?” she asked.

“I guess other people lack our perfect emotional and physical compatibility,” shrugged Peridot.

Amethyst tagged on a sly grin, putting an arm over her shoulder.

“I love it when you talk dirty, ‘Dot.”

[emeraldwaves]

Title:  #pinkwall Chapter 9 Pairing:  Promptis Rating: T Word Count:  2,197 Read on Ao3 Summary: As a last hurrah before graduating college, Prompto suggests he and Noctis take a road trip to L.A during their 2 week spring break. Prompto is desperate to snap pics in front of the infamous Pink Wall of Instagram and Noctis is hoping to finally confess his feelings for his best friend. Will either of them find what they’re looking for on their impromptu cross-country road trip?

Thank you to @youaremynewdream  for betaing!

Even though he gets to sleep in, Noctis feels like absolute shit the next morning for a whole slew of reasons he really does not want to admit. He almost wishes he was one of those people who could just blackout and forget everything that happened the night before.

Instead, he trudges to the car, wallowing in his embarrassment over getting way too drunk.

"You, uh, sure you're okay to drive Noct?" Prompto says, keeping his voice down. Noctis has already yelled at him twice about keeping his voice quieter.

"Ugh... I'll be fine," he mutters. "Never let me drink alcohol again."

"Never?" Prompto asks. "Not even one or two drinks here or there?"

"Never," Noctis repeats, and flops down into the car. "In a few hours, we're going to be in California, and then we can check in to the hotel and I can die."

"Please don't die Noct, I can't drive the car back to New York without you!" Prompto gasps, climbing into the seat next to him.

"Ha-ha," Noctis mumbles.

As much as his head hurts, he realizes his heart hurts more. It feels heavy in his chest, pounding in his ears as he thinks on how stupid he was the night before. Prompto doesn't even know about it, but Noctis can't get over the fact he almost kissed him.

"Noct? You sure you're okay?" Prompto asks, looking at him with such concern.

"Yeah, Prom, I'm fine I swear. Just trying to get over this hangover."

He doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't know what to say without straight out confessing. But maybe he should... they've only got a few more days on this road trip, and maybe it's time to consider getting things off his chest. Prompto's his best friend, there's no way he'll be weird about it... not to Noctis.

Right?

The car ride is quiet. Noctis can't imagine listening to music or really even talking right now, his head is throbbing, even after taking medicine. Guilt floods over him, knowing Prompto is probably so thrilled to almost be to California. Their destination is practically in sight, and Noctis swallows. They've come so far and the last thing he wants to do is ruin this for Prompto in any way.

"Oh man, Noct!" Prompto gasps, looking down at his phone.

"What’s wrong?" Noctis says, trying his best to keep his eyes on the road.

"Did…" he pauses, taking a deep breath. "Did you know the giant sequoia trees are in California?!"

"What?" he blinks. "That's what's wrong?"

"No... I mean... nothing is wrong, but we gotta go!" Prompto says.

"But... we're supposed to make it to L.A today!? How far away are these trees?" he asks, keeping his eyes fixated on the road. According to the GPS they've got almost three and a half hours left in the car.

"Okay... it would add an extra... I dunno... 2 hours to our drive, but it Noctis, I'm telling you... it will be so worth it! They're huge! You won't even be able to hug one."

"Prom, I know what kind of trees you're talking about," he sighs. He knows he's going to say yes. They planned on going to the walls tomorrow, so it's not as if getting to the hotel a little later will matter.

"I know you're totally hungover, and this is probably the worst time to ask you for a spontaneous change, but... I really think we gotta Noct! This whole trip is about discovering new things, taking risks, exploring the world!"

Noctis raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, the U.S isn't the world, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah..." Noctis sighs. L.A is going to be crowded and Noctis thinks his head could use some fresh air. "Alright," he says.

"I'm sorry, Noct... you're probably exhausted."

"Eh," Noctis shrugs. "I'm going to be tired either way, might as well go see some big ass trees," he smirks.

It takes a little extra time to get there, but the look on Prompto's face is so worth it when they pull into the parking lot of the large park. The trees are far up the path, but Prompto is looking at the forest with such awe, like he's never seen such grandeur in nature before.

"You're really excited about these trees," Noctis teases, stepping out of the car.

"Dude, they're gonna be so huge! We can get pictures of us in front of them, looking like tiny little ant people!" he laughs. "Gonna be fun to play with perspective."

"I guess I didn't think of that," Noctis says. "I don't have that artist brain like you do."

"Aw c'mon, Noct! Don't sell yourself so short!" Prompto laughs. "You've taken plenty of nice pictures when I've been around."

"I think I'll leave photography up to you."

The two of them head up the path, following the winding dirt and other happy families and friends visiting the site together. It's lively, and decently hot for a spring day, but Noctis supposes southern California stays warm this time of year... nothing like New York, which can stay cold until May sometimes. Noctis snorts at the thought; the cold is something he certainly does not miss.

"NOCT, LOOK!" Prompto says so loud, gesturing to the giant tree in front of them. It's toppled over, the roots sticking up high in the air. "These roots are ginormous!" He snaps a few pictures from afar, but immediately runs over.

There's a small sign next to it, explaining how it fell, due to natural causes thankfully. As cool as the roots are, Noctis thinks it's a little tragic, seeing this large, majestic tree, toppled to the ground. It's beautiful actually; the way the roots dance up towards the sky, dirt coating the bottom. It's been this way for years apparently...

"Get a picture!" Prompto says, handing his camera to Noctis. "I wanna make it look like I'm ensnared in the roots."

He poses, putting his hand in front of one gnarly looking root. He twists his leg around and makes a terrified face. Noctis can't help but laugh. He's never met someone so full of energy. In a way, this forest is perfect for Prompto, surrounded by trees that feel larger than life.

Prompto's presence can often feel that way.

Prompto really does look tiny compared to the trees though, but Noctis thinks he looks cute, posing all scared.

"Maybe we should take one together?" Prompto says.

This time, they take a selfie together, posing in front of the roots, pointing up towards them as if they're about to attack their heads.

"Scary," Noctis says. "If only it was night, it would be perfect for Halloween next year."

"Man, I know," Prompto sighs. "I guess we'll have to settle for this."

"Guess so," Noctis replies, nudging his side.

"Are you feeling any better?" Prompto asks.

"Yeah," Noctis sighs, stretching up as they continue along the path. "I think I needed some fresh air."

"Hey, Noct," Prompto mutters, his fingers tracing over the edge of his camera. "Thanks for doing this. I mean... for coming to the sequoia trees, but also for the whole trip. I know this probably isn't how you wanted to be spending your spring break, but I really appreciate you coming with me and driving us..."

Noctis flushes as he watches Prompto awkwardly fumble with his words. He's so cute when he gets so shy and genuine like this. Noctis loves seeing more vulnerable sides to Prompto.

He wonders if the blond feels guilty for making his hungover ass drive out of the way an extra two hours. Honestly, seeing Prompto like this makes it all worth it.

"Don't sweat it," Noctis says. "I wanted to come. If we hadn't done this, I probably would've spent spring break asleep on your couch while you played video games."

Prompto cackles, tossing his head back with a loud laugh. "You're not wrong."

"Yeah, this way we're getting to see the world," Noctis teases.

Snorting, Prompto is about to retort, but he jumps back the moment he sees it. A giant tree that covers the pathway. They're able to walk right under it, the roots hovering over the path. Prompto looks like he's just about to explode with excitement.

There have been a lot of big trees on the way up to this one, but this path covering tree is enormous...

Apparently they haven't even made it to the largest one.

Prompto runs immediately under the tree and starts snapping pictures of the underbelly. "Man... this tree must be ancient to be this huge. Imagine if you got to see all these years!" Prompto says.

"I dunno..." Noctis shrugs. "It might be kind of tiring to live that long."

"If you were with me, I think I'd be fine," Prompto giggles, continuing onward up the path.

Noctis stands under the tree, wondering if the roots will snap and crush his entire being. He simultaneously hates and loves when Prompto says stuff like that. He hates wondering if Prompto feels the same, but he loves hearing the words.

As they climb up the path, Prompto taking more pictures of larger trees here and there, Noctis can't stop thinking about what Cindy said, about what Ravus assumed. Did he and Prompto look like a couple? Maybe when they did silly touristy stuff like this they did?

He hates thinking he has a chance... he wants to get over this more than anything. And maybe the best way to do that is to tell him.

"Noct! Hurry! I can see the base of the large tree!" Prompto says, gesturing excitedly.

Noctis can't help but think a giant burden would be lifted if he could just come out and say it.

"W-Wow!" Prompto breathes, lowering his camera as he looks up at the large tree. "I can't believe this is it. It looks... like a monster... like I could fit 20 regular trees in there!"

They eagerly wait their turn for a chance to stand in front of the tree.

"Okay Noct!" Prompto calls out. "Back up as far as you can so it looks like I'm super tiny against this huge tree.

"No matter where I stand you're gonna look tiny," Noctis mutters, but he does as Prompto says, snapping a few pictures. Prompto adjusts, standing directly in front of it, as if he's doing a direct comparison of how tall he is compared to the tree which doesn't even fit in the whole shot.

"You look good!" Noctis calls out. He always looks good, but his face is filled with such joy over this simple tree, Noctis can't even begin to describe the feelings wishing to burst out of his mouth.

"Noct, you come here!" Prompto calls out. He takes his camera back, grabbing a stranger to get a picture of them. First, they take a normal one, standing in front of the tree. But then, Prompto hugs one side of the tree and Noctis hugs the other, as if they're trying to reach for each other.

Noctis can't see Prompto from this side, the tree is far too huge, and he hates it. He hates the idea of hugging Prompto with something so large blocking them in between. He wants to reach for Prompto and grab him, and hold him as tight as he can. He never wants to let him go. He hates trying to do the impossible, hoping eventually he'll reach him.

He doesn't like being blocked... especially when it's himself doing said blocking.

He can't keep doing this to himself. Tree or no tree, Noctis has to try.

Prompto pulls away and takes his camera back, flipping through the photos. "Man, these look great... though you look a little grouchy in this one Noct," he teases.

Noctis shrugs because he knows he probably was... kind of still is. He's ready to get to L.A.

"Should we... head back to the car?" Noctis suggest.

Dramatically, Prompto leans against the tree. "I'll miss this old timer!" he says.

Noctis shakes his head and gently pats the tree. "Thanks bud," he mutters. This damn tree helped him make up his mind.

"Did you just thank it?" Prompto asks, tilting his head.

"Yeah... you know... for giving us good pictures," Noctis shrugs trying to play it casual as they had back to the car.

"Yeah I really got some great ones!"

They admire the trees back down on the way car, and Noctis feels a wave of exhaustion run over him. He's got a lot to think about... a lot to plan. He can't wait to be in their L.A hotel, comfortable on his bed.

At the car, Prompto stands next to it, waiting for Noctis to unlock it. "So..." Prompto says, hovering his hand over the door handle of the car. "Should we finally get to L.A?"

Noctis nods, unlocking the door to get into the car for their last stretch of drive. "Yeah."

Noctis has finally decided; when they get to the Pink Wall... he's going to tell Prompto.

[jadekitty777]

Bound to the Sky with You

So, fun fact! Every story from today onward will be an AU. Because that was the rule I decided to set up for myself, just to keep things interesting.

Day 2 – Take Your Kid to Work Day @taiqrowweek

Summary:  Life for Taiyang was simple. He told stories to his kids. Brought in the dawn. Kept watch for the clan.

It was meant to stay that way.

And then he found Qrow, and that complicated everything. [Dragon-Fantasy AU]

Rating: K

Word count: 8k

Notes: So, I will absolutely understand if this story isn’t reblogged, because as it stands right now, it’s only got setup for potential Taiqrow. Why? Because while originally wanting to do a one-shot for the event, this became a prologue to a much longer novella I have not yet had time to give adequate focus to, but one I hope to pour time into later on this year. The more plot I mapped out, the more I truly wanted to let the story breathe and flourish. Believe me when I say Taiqrow will be the focus (because, I mean, have you met me? I’m all about these boys) but like the story, I want that aspect to have time to come to light.  

For now, thanks Taiqrowweek for the inspiration and I hope you all enjoy this humble beginning!

Ao3 Link: Prologue

~

A long, long time ago, when the world was still very new, the great God of Light turned to his first-born son and decreed that he was to travel the entirety of His vast lands and, upon returning, would have to bestow a gift to the world. The demi-god, named Ozpin, thought very carefully on what he wished to give as he traveled from corner to corner. It was a long journey before he stood back before his father, and when the God of Light asked what his son had decided, Ozpin said:

“Father, I have scaled the great mountains and walked the open plains. I have been to the dusty deserts and to the rolling seas. I have trudged through the murky swamps and drifted through the canyons. I have chipped off ice from the glaciers and taken the molten rock from the volcanos. I have climbed every tall tree in the forest and counted every small pebble in the pond. And now that I have returned, I have realized one thing.”

“Speak it, my son.” The God commanded.

“The deserts were always hot without relief. The mountains always had snow that never melted. The forests rained endlessly and the winds roared across the oceans constantly. I wish to grant the world a chance to change at different times of the year. I want to see rain in the deserts and the clear tops of the mountains. For the forests to dry and oceans slow.”

“And how do you propose for this to come about?”

Ozpin replied with a smile sly and proud: “We can create a new species for the world as bright as humanity. One of which will coexist with the fauna and flora and will oversee these ‘seasons’ of change.”

And that was how Dragons came to be.

However, trouble was instantly afoot. The God of Darkness, who knew of his brother’s plans, made sure to speak up at this moment – for it was unfair for Light’s son to give a gift when his daughter was not given the same indulgence. Seeing no flaw in his sibling’s reasoning, Salem too was set out on a journey and returned much sooner than her cousin. When asked what she had decided, she said:

“I have seen what Ozpin’s gift has done. The trees that do not gather enough water stand in your forests and rot without end. There are ponds both too dry and overflowing. There are creatures unable to stand the frigid cold or burning heat, yet unable to do more than suffer.”

“This is quite the problem.” The God of Darkness pronounced. “Speak, my daughter. What do you say should happen?”

“The gift I wish to bestow is that in which things can pass on and be reborn. For things to fall and come back. For the world to move like the sun and the moon.”

And that was how Time began.

At first, everything seemed to be in balance. The seasons shifted and the wildlife flourished, creating a world of beauty and life. Dragons and humans especially lived among one another with respect and care to each other. Dragons would kindly share their talents to protect their counterparts and provide a long, fulfilling livelihood for the humans and, likewise, the humans would offer their own protections and offer their companionship that made their lives richer than all the gold in the world. They existed together in perfect harmony.

But that was the funny thing about time. It had a habit of-

“Daaad! You’ve told this story a billion times.”

“Sssh. It’s just getting to the good part.”

“Ruby you’ve heard this a billion times.”

“So now it’s a billion and one.”

“But we’re gonna miss the sun!”

“There’s no missing the sun Yang.” Taiyang input patiently, hiding a chuckle as his eldest daughter gave out a little roar of fury, throwing up her hands and falling back into a heap on the stone floor. “You wouldn’t have to wait so long if you didn’t get everyone up so early.”

“Humph!” She crossed her arms, her long, slightly spiked tail thumping on the ground in quiet agitation. It was a good thing she wasn’t an earth dragon or, even in her humanoid form as she was now, she might have caused an earthquake.

“Hey, hey dad! Can I come this time?” Ruby, who had been lounging in her full dragon form, sprung forward like a rabbit, her clawed, front feet landing on his knee as she leaned towards him. “My horns grew a whooole inch overnight, see?”

He placed his hand between the little bumps on her head. He squinted. “You can’t mean these tiny nubs, can you?”

Now it was his youngest’s turn to whine as she splayed across his lap. “Nooo, they’re big and beautiful!”

“They will be one day but you can’t rush growth.” Taiyang sighed fondly as she continued to carry on, scratching his claws along her scaled back soothingly. “When did I get such impatient daughters?”

Yang pulled herself up, rolling her shoulders and stretching out her feathered wings. “Patience is for old guys like you.”

He laughed heartily. “You only get to call me old when I’m losing half my sunbeams on the flight in like a certain overeager fledgling I know.”

“Hey!” His eldest pouted. “Just you watch, I’ll bring so many in you won’t even need to be there!”

“Is that so?”

“It’ll be so much ‘so’ that you’ll just go ‘whoa’!” She said, inflecting the last word with a sense of awe.

“Take me with you. I wanna see!” Ruby demanded as she rolled onto her back. She started to wiggle, giggling when he started to scratch her stomach. “Aahaha, dad no, that tickles!”

“Then you shouldn’t leave your stomach exposed!” He said, tapping her nose affectionately.

The sound of wings flapping through the air drew their attention, the three of them looking over as a fledgling flew into the mouth of the den. She was primarily white with light blue accents to her scales and a deeper blue shade on the underside of her wings. She was built similarly to himself and Yang when in full form, wherein she stood on four, powerful legs like an oversized lizard, and her wings connected to her shoulder blades, the span of them stretching nearly twice her length. She had an elongated snout and jagged horns that shot up from the back of her skull. The only differences were that she was much slimmer, aiding for the softer flight ice dragons often had to have when laying frost or breathing snowfall, and her spikes went all the way along the base of her spine rather than just down her tail. As they watched her, the small dragon hopped forward some as a much larger one glided in behind her, this one very similar to herself except instead of blue, her accents were a shimmery silver.

“Weiss!” Ruby rolled out of his lap, charging forward to run over to the other fledging, bouncing around her. “You’re back! How did it go? Oooh, tell me everything!”

“Well,” The other replied, shifting into her humanoid form. Tai guessed it was only because she wanted to give his daughter the full effect of her smug grin as she loudly proclaimed, “I put up all the icicles in the trees today.”

Before she could get too proud of herself, her older sister, also transformed, delivered a sharp rap to her head. “Don’t lie.”

Weiss nursed the bump with a frown. “Alright so, maybe not all of them.” She turned back to other, saying, “Still, I did a lot!”

“Well, enjoy them while they last because once I bring in the sun, they’ll be gone in the blink of an eye!” Yang said as she joined them.

“Oh, so you mean I have nothing to worry about?”

“What’d you say iceberg!?”

“You clearly heard me sunburn.”

Winter rolled her eyes at the young dragons’ antics, turning when he approached. “I spotted the Belladonna brood on the way in. Blake was with them today.”

“Really? I bet Ghira and Kali are overjoyed.” Tai could almost picture the furred dragons’ proud gaits as they walked their daughter through the steps of shadow manipulation. “Bet they’ll be talking up a storm when they get back.”

“Hmm.” Winter arched an eyebrow his way. “Sounds familiar.”

“Ehehe.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying hard to block out how embarrassing he had acted after taking Yang on her first flight to dawn. “Maybe I had been a little excited.”

“Try a month of nothing but you chattering everyone’s ear off who cared to listen. We’re all dreading the day Ruby’s antlers come in.” Before he could find a good response to that, a loud commotion drew their attention, seeing the animated young drake was dancing around her sister and friend, little red petals falling around in little bursts. Winter shook her head. “Which is going to be very soon, it seems. Petals already?”

“Yeah. They started up last night. By spring, she’ll probably be ready to bloom flowers.” Tai said, unable to keep the weight from his voice.

Astute as always, the younger turned to him, crossing her hands behind her back. He always wondered how she managed it with her wings. “You’re going to have your claws full pretty soon. Have you given any thought to who you’ll have discipline her?”

“Uh, well, Peach maybe. Fruit isn’t that different, right?”

The look she gave him was definitely disapproving. “If I recall, the Pine brood are garden dragons.”

“Oscar’s only a few seasons shy of maturing himself. I can’t possibly ask when they have their own son to focus on.”

“The Marigolds? Their son is much older.”

Tai growled lowly at the thought of the detestable drake whose honor as a dragon was about as low as the roots he planted. “I’d sooner throw myself to Salem’s Grimm.”

Winter sighed. “What, will you train her yourself?” When he didn’t respond for several seconds, she deadpanned, “You must be joking.”

“I watched Summer for years. I think I could handle it.”

“You know it’s not even remotely the same-” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know why I bother. Though, if you’re going to do something that foolhardy, then I don’t know why you keep denying her on coming along. You’ll need the practice.”

It was surprisingly hard to beat that logic. “You know, being lectured by you is rather uncomfortable.” He shot her a grin. “You’re so frigid about it.”

“Ugh!” In a fit of rare immaturity, she smacked his arm. “Don’t you have some sunlight to catch?”

He laughed, glancing towards the mouth of the den where the sky was turning cerulean. “I guess I do.” Tai called over to where the girls where still chattering away, “Yang, it’s time to go!”

“Yes!” She flew over and shifted into her full form halfway over, bouncing on the tips of her claws. “Let’s go!”

He placed a hand on her head. “Just a second.” He looked back across the den where his other daughter had lowered her snout to the floor, every inch of her radiating disappointment as she blew away some of her petals. “Ruby, you too.”

Her head shot up, looking to Weiss who merely shrugged and waved her away, before Ruby was up and across the floor in three giant leaps. “Really?!”

“As long as you promise to stay close-”

“Yes, yes, yes! I promise!”

Yang seemed equally excited as she bumped heads with her sister. “Just wait until you see me in action!”

He nodded to them. “Alright. Let’s get going.”

~

Light was remarkably heavy.

Even after all these months, Yang still had trouble keeping her flight level as she tried to keep up with her dad. She could feel the weight of the beams on her glowing wings, the pressure trying to pull her down. It took all her power to fight against it. It wasn’t nearly as bad when she first started out though; back then, she had plummeted right out of the sky at the mere touch of the sun and her dad had to swoop in and catch her.

She wasn’t sure how her dad did it every day, bringing in all the light to their hollow like it barely fazed him, especially when she knew, besides herself, he was the only sun dragon in their area. They weren’t like the mountain clan – who she’d heard had at least two broods, one of which had eight kids. She’d heard a few of the other adults talking, saying maybe a few might migrate this way when they came of age. It only made her more determined to learn as fast as she could, so no one had to worry anymore.

“Yang!” Her dad called, “You’re losing too much altitude. You need to glide more.”

“Yeah, I know!” She said, trying not to flap her wings too hard as she tried to catch herself back onto the air currant. She only lost a few beams before she was able to level out again.

He gave her a fanged smile. “Not bad. You’re definitely getting better.”

“Yang, you look awesome!”

She looked at where her sister was, perched on their dad’s back. She couldn’t help but preen, calling back, “Yeah?” She really hoped Blake thought so too. Her best friend had promised to watch her when she flew in and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself.

“Hey wait, what about me?” Tai intervened.

Ruby snout wrinkled. “Dads can’t be awesome.”

He placed a clawed foot against his heart, mock-groaning in pain, “Oh no, I think that comment mortally wounded me. How will I ever go on?”

Yang tuned out their antics, focusing on her flight and each careful wingbeat as she looked to the horizon. It was a few more minutes before the jagged, shadowed peaks that surrounded their valley came into view. “Dad, the ridge!”

He nodded, glancing over his shoulder. “Hold on tight Rubes, the dive is pretty steep.” Then to her, “You want to lead today, little sun?”

“Definitely.” She answered, brimming with confidence. Holding the light on her wings while also curving them inward was the most difficult part and she had only just started to get it right. But she had been practicing the technique for days now, hours spent mimicking the way her dad did it the best she could. A few times she had even carried Ruby while trying it, hoping to mimic the heaviness that would be on her wings but she couldn’t keep balance and they ended up crashing through a few tree branches. Hazel had given them quite the talking to after that one.

But she knew she was really getting the hang of it as she broke over the hills and turned her nose towards the ground, not even flying slightly crooked as she came down. Leveling out over the treetops was a bit more tough, and she lost a few more beams as she had to bat her wings a bit too hard, but after that, it was just a matter of flying to the center. She watched the nighttime darkness get overtaken by her light – though it couldn’t reach the corners of the valley. It would be years before she could do that, when she would eventually grow into as massive a dragon as her dad.

Yang held herself aloft with the currants, trees turning into wide areas of snow dusted plains and then finally water as she passed over the central lake. She could tell Weiss had helped make the clumps of frost on the edges for there were a lot of ugly, deformed bumps lacking the natural style Winter had. As she got to the other side, Yang pulled up vertically, spreading her wings wide and giving a hard flap to shake off the last beams, watching the small cone shape that formed and hit to the other end of the valley. She gave a roar of excitement – it was twice as big as yesterday’s! – before she cartwheeled out of the sky and landed on the bank. Her feet sunk into a few inches of snow.

Barely a minute later, her dad was soaring overhead, the rest of the darkness quickly being eaten up by the light before he was touching down beside her. He laid across the ground, making it easier for Ruby to slide off, and her little sister came bounding right for her, eyes glittering like stars. “That was so great!” She exclaimed. “You made it look so easy.”

“Well, of course.” Yang fibbed, standing a little taller. “But you haven’t seen anything yet! Dad, can I take Ruby with me while I do the dapples?”

He gave a nod. “Just don’t stray too far.”

“We won’t. Come on Ruby!” She said, hurrying towards the tree groves. Ruby hopped after her, creating big holes in the snow where ever she landed.    

Dappling, otherwise known as guiding the light through the thick leaves of trees so they touched the ground, was one of the easier things she had to do, especially during winter when most trees didn’t even have leaves. She knew her quick-to-impress sister would get a kick out of it. It wasn’t like she never saw their dad do these same things, but Yang understood there was something more exhilarating about watching someone they had shared the hatchling burrow with doing things the adults could. It was a sign they were all growing up.

“Okay, so watch this.” Yang said as she hovered underneath the branches of some pine trees. She tilted her head back, sucking in a deep breath, before blowing it out. A tunnel of wind and golden sparkles emitted from her throat and caused the branches to shudder, light coming on through. Similar to a fire dragon, her breath held a certain heat to it, though it wasn’t hot enough to scorch or burn. She looked down at the speckled ground, drinking in her sister’s cheers, and leading her through the forest. After a few more groves, she started to throw in a few flips and cartwheels to add a little extra flair to her performance.

Shortly after they entered the eucalyptus field was when her sister fell unusually silent. Yang paused turning to look back at her and seeing Ruby had frozen, peering off into the snow. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She called, turning back to rejoin her.

“I don’t know.” She said, sounding trouble. “But doesn’t that look weird?”

Yang turned her head, quickly spotting the unusual mound in the snow at the base of a tree. She could have believed it was another mishap of Weiss’s if not for the slightest tuft of black sticking out of one end. “Maybe a wolf?” She took a few steps forward, cautious at first until she recalled they had been making enough noise to startle the beast had it been able to awaken. “I think it’s frozen.” She said.

Ruby gasped in excitement. “You could unfreeze it!”

“I, uh, I don’t know how to do that.” She’d seen dad do it a few times to some unfortunate animals and even once to a whole trove of unlucky sparrows that had frozen to the ice of the lake. But she wasn’t really sure how it worked.

Her sister deflated some, sparing the mound a concerned look. “We can’t just leave it though…”

“Yeah.” She turned, flying up between the trees. “I’ll call dad.”

~

As he walked around the lake, Tai swirled his tail in the frigid water, watching the ripples carry the sheen of light across the glossy surface. He had just completed the circuit and was blowing warmth back into the tip of his now numb tail when he heard Yang’s roars. They were urgent but not panicked, so he knew she wasn’t in danger. Still, he didn’t waste time, taking off and quickly finding his daughter, her head poking up between the eucalyptus trees. “What happened?” He called, shifting into his humanoid form so he could more easily navigate through the branches.

“We found a frozen animal.” Yang said.

Ruby had scuttled forward on her belly, a hair’s breadth from an unusually-shaped pile of snow. It looked like it could have been as big as an adolescent deer. She looked back at him, trying to whisper, “We think it’s a wolf.”

Tai frowned at the sight of the poor thing, only to look down when Yang nudged her snout against his hand. “Can I try unfreezing it?”

“Well…” He hesitated, glancing back at the creature, debating. He knew it would be good practice and at least it was a large animal; it would be less delicate. “Alright, I’ll guide you through it. But, you have to go really slow, okay? If it is still alive, you can shock its system if you try bringing it back too fast.”

Yang seemed a little nervous, but mostly determined. “Got it.”

“Alright Ruby come over here and give your sister room.” The garden dragon lifted herself from the snow, slinking over to his side. Yang took her place, leaning down on her front legs. “Okay. So, it’s just like how we melted morning frost during autumn. Use soft, short bursts of breath back and forth along the body. If you get too tired, let me know. We can trade off.”

His daughter nodded, inhaling deeply, before her sun breath sparkled along the snow, turning her head to and fro as she did. It took a few minutes before true progress started to show, the snow slowly turning to slush, falling off of the form in wet clumps. For the most part Yang paced herself, he only having to warn her once when she went a little too fast, a huge chunk falling from what he assumed was its rump, tufts of wispy black fur coming into sight.

“I can hear it breathing!” Yang said, tail wiggling with excitement as she inhaled again.

“Do you think it’ll want to play when it wakes up?” His youngest asked as her sister continued to warm the beast.

He crossed his arms, saying sternly, “We’re not keeping it Ruby.”

“Aaah. But I already named it Zwei!”

Anything else he was about to say to that caught in his throat when another clump fell away, revealing not more dark fur, but a broad forehead and the curved dip of an eye framed by a fine eyebrow. He choked on air, his tail wrapping around Ruby, pulling her close to him as he shouted, “Yang, stop!”

His daughter did, at first in confusion and then with dawning realization as she quickly wheeled backwards, running into his legs. They stood there, several long seconds ticking by, and Tai tensed up as more snow fell, exposing the rest of the face; he had a slightly pointed nose and an angled chin with fine hairs of scruff along his jawline. Definitely a man.

Questions twisted in his mind without answer, heart beating a panicked rhythm in his ears. How was he here? Where had he come from? How had no one else spotted him until now? Were there more? Or, perhaps, was he a scout for another group? Were they planning a raid?

Yang looked back at him, “Dad…?”

“Is that a human?” Ruby also looked up at him.

He grit his teeth, voice a rough growl as he said, “We’re leaving. Now.” He turned. He needed to get his girls out of here and tell Sienna of the intruder.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he almost tripped over his youngest when she jumped out in front of him. “But we can’t just leave him! He’ll die!”

“Ruby this isn’t up for debate. He’s a human. He’s dangerous.”

She looked past him, back at the crumpled form in the snow. “He’s not dangerous, he’s hurt.” When she looked at him again, her face was earnest. “Didn’t dragons used to help humans?”

“That…” He sighed, pressing a hand against his forehead. “That was a long time ago. Things have changed.”

“Then can’t they change again?”

“Ruby, enough! We’re going!”

She ducked around his hand that tried to grab her, hopping over to hide against her sister. “Yang, you agree with me, right? We should do something.”

“Well…” The elder fanned a wing over her sister, taking a few uncertain steps back when he whirled on them. She darted looks between him and the human, saying, “He… hasn’t done anything wrong yet.”

“It doesn’t mean he won’t. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t. He could of set traps.” He waved a hand back towards the mountainside. “It was those kinds of things that scarred Blake. Took away Hazel’s sister. Killed-” Tai’s throat closed up, unable to finish. The sharp nails of his hand dug into his palms as he clenched them into tight fists.

“But won’t we be just as bad as them if we do nothing?” Ruby’s voice wobbled. “This is wrong! You know it is!”

He spread his wings, roaring back, “It’s not that simple! Actions like these have consequences! You can’t just-” The sudden sob drew him short, chest tightening as he watched the way his youngest buried herself into the underside of her sister’s wing. He shut his eyes, taking a few, calming breathes. When some of the heat in his blood had subsided, Tai knelt down in the snow, saying gently. “Rubes, you’ve got a good heart. Like your mother, you have a deep-rooted desire to bring hope to this world. But, truth is, whether they be dragons or humans, not everyone is ready for that.”

One wet, silver eye peered towards him. “Not even you dad?”

The expression was so startling familiar to him, that he couldn’t help but see a younger Summer imposed over her from a time long ago, when he was still an adolescent himself.

He found her sitting in the middle of her flower field, curled in a protective ball with her knees drawn to her chest and tail curled around herself. Even the little white roses growing in her antlers seemed wilted. As he approached, stepping around her blossoms with care, he heard a few sniffles and it managed to break his heart. She probably knew it was him, because she didn’t startle as he settled down beside her. “I uh, I beat up Cardin for you?”

She drew in a sharp breath, looking up at him with watery eyes. “You don’t think it’s stupid, right?”

“Of course not.” He reached out, using his knuckle to brush away some of her tears. “I think it’s admirable. It takes a strong heart and steady resolve to say the things you do. Don’t let what that acid-spitter says get you down.”

She gave a shaky giggle, wiping away the rest of her tears. “He doesn’t spit acid Tai.”

“Coulda fooled me.” He growled some, though he was quick to shake off the irritation, focusing back on the drake. “Tell you what. Let’s do it together. Just me and you. We’ll make the world a better place.”

“You promise?” She tilted her head towards him in quiet askance. “You really promise?”

He chuckled as he lent down, hooking one of his horns with hers. “Cross our antlers, hope to lose them…”

She smiled, pressing their foreheads together. “-Stick an arrow through our sternums.”

His hand curled around his left horn as the memory faded away. He looked to his girls, Ruby’s hopeful gaze and Yang’s uncertainty seeming to strike at him without ever uttering a word. Slowly, he looked to the human still lying in the snow.

And he got to his feet.

~

Warm.

It was the first thing Qrow was aware of; it was warm. It felt like the springtime sun, bearing down but not stiflingly so. Had he fallen asleep in the fields again?

“Mm…” He turned his face, his cheek brushing against something smooth. He couldn’t really process well what that could be; the most ridiculous thought was it was a river stone, but it was definitely too large to be that.

Wait, hadn’t it been winter?

“I think he’s waking up!”

“Ruby you promised to stay back.”

“I got her dad.”

The unfamiliar voices stirred him further and the effort it took to try and come to awareness was unusual. Something seemed wrong about all this, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. His mind felt like it was slogging through a swamp, struggling to keep itself above water while bits of information sunk into the mud and out of reach.

He was finally able to open his eyes. They were dry and unfocused and it took him a few blinks before he was able to adjust to the daylight, the fuzzy features of what he had felt before unblurring, until he could discern that he was curled up against a wall of honey yellow, a bit taller than where his shoulder was. It was also scaly.

Like it was catching onto a decaying vine only for it to fall hard to the ground when it inevitably snapped, his mind decided that was the time to slam a flood of disjointed memories into the forefront of his head.

“We really caught a winner this time!” Mercury laughed, kicking the metal cage. The brown dragon within gave a yelp of fear.

Qrow crossed the tent, fury boiling under his skin as he clutched onto his sister’s wrist. “Have you gone mad?! You took a kid!”

“Sssh, just stay quiet.” He soothed to the shaking drake, trying to pick the lock as quickly as he could before Emerald came back. “It was Amber, right? You’re gonna be just fine.”

While the rest of the room warped and twisted around him, he found he could still focus on the red eyes that pierced him with their intensity. “You disappoint me, little brother.”

He was falling, falling… into darkness and cold.

Qrow jerked upwards with a cry, “Raven!”

He quickly found that it had been a poor idea, his vision blurring worse than when he would try and drown a keg of penny-ale. He fell against the yellow wall, groaning as he pressed a hand against his face. He’d been tossed through his twin’s portals before. While it often did knock him out, they’d certainly never left him feeling weak like this. “Ugh, what happened?”

A voice, the first one he had heard and was definitely that of a young girl, came somewhere from in front of him. “Dad kissed you back to life!”

…What?

“N-No! I was breathing warmth into his lungs.” That one, male and rather gruff, came from behind him and… above. Qrow was starting to reach a conclusion of where exactly he was and knew it would be just like Raven’s sick sense of humor to choose a place like this. If he ever saw his sister again, if he got out of this alive that is, he swore he was going to punch her in the face.

Still, he took a breath and braced himself, opening his eyes to just make sure.

His eyes zeroed in on the wingless drake first. She had a serpentine body that was mostly black, though her belly and the tiny, thorn-like spikes on her spine were red. She was very young, barely any horns to speak of on her head and she stared at him with an open sort of curiosity and innocence that seemed to be universal in kids.

The mimic standing protectively by her was a few years older and had clearly lost some of that youthfulness. She had hair that was canary-yellow bright with wings that matched, though he caught hints of orange as well, almost like fire. Her white horns were particularly interesting, curving back from the forefront of her skull, bending away from one another only to re-meet at the tips in a heart-like shape.

Qrow looked down at the tail he was using for support, trepidation filling him as he turned his head and slowly looked up.

And, Ozpin be damned, there was daddy.

He was impressively large, about the length of a cottage and, if he stood, probably as tall as one too. His whole face radiated danger, from the tip of his nose where a single sharp point rested to the spikes that poked out from his upper jaw, to the massive, tusk-like horns that curled out from his temples and bent back along his skull in a staircase-like pattern. The amount of ways Qrow could die from gorging or crushed bones was merely a choice of favor. That didn’t even include the rows of deadly fangs that could rip him apart in a heartbeat.

He was yellow all over, though unlike his daughter he lacked her brightness, seeming to be of a collection of burnt shades. His main body was all honey-yellow, but underneath his jaw and probably down his belly was a more burnt-orange coloration. He didn’t have any protrusions on his back, only from the base of his tail to the tip, where it fanned off into a collection of fiery-shaded feathers that reminded him of a falcon’s tail, but with a few elongated stems that ended in rhombus shapes like a peacock’s. The stem of his wings had scales like his body, but the rest of them tipped off into gigantic feathers that matched the shade of the tail’s.

“I hope you didn’t kiss me with those teeth at least.” Qrow articulated intelligently.

Check ‘a dragon rolling its eyes at him’ off the list of things he thought he’d never see. “Can you walk, human?”

Unsure if he should push his luck, he quickly got to his feet, swaying a bit. “Uh, yeah. Definitely.”

“Good.” He turned his head some, looking to the younger pair. “You two. Home. Now. And not a word about this to anyone.”

“Aaah. Can’t we stay?” The drake whined.

“No.” That was not a tone even Qrow would argue with right now.

The elder sister was still watching him carefully. “What are you going to do?”

“We’re going to have an exchange of some words and then I’m going to take him out of the valley.” He really hoped that wasn’t actually code for ‘eating him alive’ or something. It had the air of how a farmer would tell their littlest ones that all the chickens that were mysteriously disappearing were merely ‘flying home’.

“Alright.” She gave him one last look-over, before turning and heading further into the forest. “Come on Ruby.”

Ruby gave another elongated whine. “Okay, okay.” She waved a paw – a foot? – at him, “Bye Mr. Human!” before hopping after her sister.

Despite his best efforts, Qrow felt his legs give out on him. He sighed and watched the children disappear into the tree line. “Cute kids.” He wasn’t sure what to make of the rumbling noise the other made – was he humming or growling? “So uh,” He looked up, not entirely surprised to see the other was already staring back (was this what mice felt like when they were under a cat’s paw?), “I normally have a lot more pride than this but: don’t eat me, please.”

The dragon’s nostrils flared. “Why would I go through the trouble of helping you if I was just going to kill you?”

Qrow actually didn’t know what to say to that. “Maybe you like your meals… running?” If only he could get copper in exchange for all the times he still said inane stuff anyways, he’d be an aristocrat by now.

“Look, human.” He returned impatiently, “I’m not going to hurt you unless you give me reason to.” He lowered his head to view him better and Qrow became acutely aware of two things. First was that this dragon’s face was wider than his whole chest and one bite would undoubtedly tear him in two. The other was that he had dark blue eyes identical in hue to the evening sky. “So, how did you get here?”

“Well uh, you see,” He said, trying to stretch for time as he searched for a response that wouldn’t end his life instantly. Lying was out of the question – no way could he come up with something adequate under such a situation. But telling the full truth was equally a poor choice that could lead to dire consequences on his still breathing body. He settled for as little detail as possible. “I ended up losing a huge chunk of revenue for my village. One of the witches exiled me here. Probably hoped I’d be ripped apart.”

The dragon tilted his head. “Revenue?” He repeated, testing the word.

“You know like, money?” When it was obvious that also didn’t register, he explained, “For us, it’s a necessity. We use money to trade for things we need. Food, clothes, ale; that sort of thing.”

“So, you lost this ‘money’ and your punishment was death?”

“It was a lot of money. Enough to probably feed most of the village for several months.”

“How did you lose it?”

Uh-oh. He probably should have expected that question. A cold sweat built along his back. “Some of us sell… animals, to one another, that help us with our lives. Like horses. They pull troughs on our farms and help us travel. Chickens and cows provide food. I ended up not locking the cage we were transporting them in and well,” He spread his arms out, “There went the money, running away.”

“Sounds like a steep sentence for a run of bad luck, if you ask me.”

He couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at that. “Welcome to my world, bud. There’s a reason I was named Qrow.”

The dragon drew back some. “What’s wrong with crows? They’re rather intelligent, if a bit recklessly brave.”

“Uh, never mind. Guess it’s just a human superstition.” The other made that growly-hum noise again, perhaps debating another question, when a crackling overhead drew his attention. Qrow looked up as well, seeing an avalanche of snow from the trees was starting to fall, only to yelp as he was cast in sudden darkness. He flinched, ducking his head, every muscle in his body tensing up in preparation for the end.

A few moments passed, and he dared to peek upwards when nothing happened. Yet, even when he realized the dragon had stretched his wing over him, it didn’t seem to comprehend.

“Winter is going to kill me.” The dragon grumbled, shaking out his feathers, bits of snow flying everywhere. That sentence didn’t make any sense either. Qrow knew the dragons had a lot to do with the change from one season to another – could the seasons somehow punish them if they didn’t do it right? How would that even work?!

Then, for the second time that day, he remembered it was winter – but it had been so warm, he was having trouble remembering. As the other drew back his wing, Qrow looked around, realizing that most of the forest floor around them had been cleared of snow, revealing the brittle grass and shriveled leaves underneath. But it only seemed to cover the immediate floor around them, as if they were in some sort of summer bubble; beyond that it looked as icy and unforgivingly chilly as the season promised to be.

“You’re,” He spoke up hesitantly, “Making it warm?”

“Of course I am. You were frozen in the snow.” The other replied matter-of-factly.

“Oh.” He racked his brain, trying to recall if he’d ever heard of a dragon having such a power before. He knew different dragons had different abilities. That there were fire breathers and ice layers and flower bloomers. Amber had been a leaf turner, which was part of the reason why she had been so highly desired in the first place. The noble class had become rather enamored with catching ‘beauty dragons’, those that were mostly harmless but could create gorgeous displays. They paid top coin for decorations that would perform for their amusement.

Yet, he’s never heard of one that just created warmth. “How?”

He never thought a dragon could look so baffled. “I’m a sun dragon.”

“A what?”

“I’m…” This was starting to feel like backwards déjà vu as it was now the beast’s turn to try and find the words to describe something he inherently knew.  He scratched a claw against the underside of his chin. “You know the first light you see that touches the earth when the sun rises? Or the rays that come through during cloudy days? Dragons like me do that.”

So, he was a light bringer. Qrow didn’t know why it seemed so strange that the species had their own names for themselves. He had just assumed they all used the same terms. He wanted to ask more questions, because it still didn’t explain how he was making it warm, but the other spoke first.

“Anyways, can you actually stand now?”

He coughed down his embarrassment and got to his feet, surprised to find that it was indeed much easier than it had been before. He took a few steps parallel to the other’s tail, ascertaining there was no shake in his knees or stiffness to his muscles anymore. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Then, right before his eyes, quicker than a blink, the dragon changed. One second he was tall as a house, the next he was standing only a few inches shorter than himself, copycatting a human form. He was dull blond with tanned skin and broad shoulders. Like all mimics though, he kept his wings, tail and horns, though in smaller, much less threatening size. When he spoke, even his voice had changed, no longer having that permanent snarl to it, “Come on then.”

Qrow, who was still trying to catch up to what he just witnessed, didn’t really process the command. What was that? There hadn’t been a sound of bones popping around or a bright light or anything he had expected there to be. Was it just illusionary magic like Emerald’s? But no, he couldn’t move around so quietly if it was just a trick like that. It had to be actual shapeshifting, but how did it work then?

“Uh, human?”

The voice broke apart his thoughts and he looked up at the other, finding it odd that the once terrifying face now seemed so kind. Then again, that was the entire crux of the trick. Dragons knew that appearing as if they were the same or, at least similar, embedded a false sense of security that humans grew lax to. It gave them an edge so that when the time was right, they could shed that fake skin to steal away with whichever goal they were aiming for.

So then, why didn’t you change Amber?

Qrow rubbed at his temple, finding things weren’t adding up like they should be and he wasn’t really sure what to do with that knowledge. “Uh, sorry, I’m coming.” He said hurrying after him. He came to walk astride him, though making sure he kept a respectable distance, side-eyeing him. He couldn’t help but wonder if the light hairs on his face was meant to copy the spikes on his jawline, Qrow’s own scruff or just was a personal preference. “So, what’s your name?”

“Why do you want to know?”

He shrugged. He actually didn’t know. “Just curious, I guess.”

Those eyes, still very blue, narrowed suspiciously. But, whatever ill thoughts the other had seemed to go nowhere as he still chose to answer. “It’s Tai.”

“As in, tie a knot?”

“As in, Taiyang.”

“Wait. Doesn’t that just mean sun?”

“What can I say?” He shrugged, waving a hand outwards. “I radiate sunlight.”

Qrow stared, a little stupefied. “Was… that a joke?”

“Well look at that. I’m sunny and funny.”

He wasn’t sure what was more ridiculous: the words themselves, the deadpan delivery or the fact it actually got him to laugh, even if he did try to stifle it. He was doubly surprised when Tai let out a soft chuckle as well. This has been probably the craziest day of my life. Qrow decided. I’ve gone from thinking I was about to be breakfast to laughing with a dragon.

It wasn’t a far walk before they were out of the trees, and the forest opened up into a wide, pure white field of snow. Its centerpiece was a gigantic lake, the edges piled with ice, though it wasn’t quite cold enough to freeze over yet. There were more woods surrounding the lake in every direction, a mismatch collection of trees both evergreen and deciduous. It felt like walking into a fairytale’s magical land, everything so beautiful and pristine.

And it was also so silent that it was near impossible to miss the faint roar in the distance. It was definitely not from any normal mammal and it was quick to remind him he wasn’t exactly safe here.

The other heard it too, glancing in the direction it must have come from, though his expression didn’t shift much.

“Friends of yours?” He asked nervously.

“Someone’s playing.” Tai offered as explanation. He wasn’t sure he wanted him to elaborate.

“So uh,” He started, turning to the other, “Where are you taking me anyways?”

The mimic pointed to the northeast where a mountain range with snow-dusted tops stood tall. “There’s a trail that runs through those mountains and leads to a human village. It’s the closest one around. I’ll take you halfway; but after that, you’re on your own.”

He nodded. Yeah, he could handle that. “So, how are we getting there?”

The look the dragon sent him could only be described as wicked. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

…You have got to be kidding him.

~

As it turned out, Qrow was not afraid of heights.

He was, however, quite terrified of being crushed between dragon feet, which was the more immediate danger he found himself in as he sat between Tai’s cupped claws. He felt rather like an insect that had been caught by an eager child rushing to the house to show his parents what he had found. At least the dragon’s grip was steadier than one’s; so much so, were it not for the roar of the wind and the rotating swish of heavy wings, Qrow may not have believed they were in the air at all. There was little to see in his dark hollow, the only light coming from above him where the other’s feet didn’t quite meet. Looking through the space yielded nothing but the view of the other’s underbelly.  

As the minutes ticked on, merely sitting and waiting for them to reach their destination, it occurred to Qrow that in the span of an hour, he had given a dragon more trust than he even held for his own blood. It perhaps beat out the last, most foolish act he had ever done. Considering he had only done said act last night, he started to wonder if he was perhaps stricken with madman’s disease. Or was being compelled by Salem’s troves of phantom Grimm. A witch’s curse?

He was given no more time to consider further, as the gravity around him shifted with sudden descent and the wind’s roar turned into a whistle. The impact of them landing was jarring enough Qrow was thrown onto his back. A moment later, the other’s top foot lifted, and he had to blink away spots from the onslaught of sunlight suddenly coming down.

“We’re here.” The light bringer announced.

Shakily, Qrow got to his feet, stumbling a bit as he hopped to the ground below. Just like in the clearing, the surrounding area was clear of snow. Behind them was the range of mountains that had been miles away just minutes ago and, before them, a straight path cutting between leafless trees. Winter’s grip on the forest made it appear quite lifeless and desolate.

The dragon morphed once more, stepping up to stand at his shoulder as he gestured forward. “This is an old migration route. No one travels it anymore, but if you continue to follow the path out of the forest, it’ll lead you to a meadow. The town is situated not far from there.”

“Got it.” He felt weary just looking at the snow-packed trail he’d have to plough through. “Kind of wish I wore better boots though.”

“This might help.” Tai spread his wings, just enough for him to pluck off a feather. He rose it to his face and when he breathed out, a gentle light like miniature sunrays emitted from his mouth. It caught the feather, alighting it in a soft, golden glow. He held it out towards him. “The magic won’t hold forever but should last until you get there.”

Hesitantly, Qrow took it, feeling an immediate warmth radiate from his fingertips and rush down his body like a gentle blanket. “Whoa.” He awed as he looked down at himself, almost expecting to be glowing himself. When he looked back up, it seemed the mimic was trying his best not to be amused by him. “I uh, I think this is twice I’m in your debt now.”

“No.” Wings rustled as Tai turned his gaze away. “If you’re in anyone’s, it’s my daughter’s. I was going to leave you to freeze.”

Well.

Fair enough.

“She’s, uh, a good kid.” He coughed down his unease and tried to mask just how eager he was to get moving and put this strange, strange event behind him.

From the look on Tai’s face, it was clear he felt similarly. “Well.” He haltingly said, “May Ozpin’s grace be with you.”

He still had enough manners about him to give the proper reply. “And his power with you.”

The mimic nodded, facing back for the valley as he mumbled, mostly to himself, “Would rather have his omniscience.” He spread his wings and took off for the sky, changing mid-leap.

Qrow watched as the dragon disappeared into the mountains. When certain he was truly alone, he clutched onto the feather and started his journey onward.