#this stupid little dragon and his sprinting is impossible

[nametakensff]

I wish I'd had a gaming system before the age of 17 so I didn't have children in yt comment sections with hardwired gaming muscle memory telling me my inability to defeat the final boss in S/pyro R/eignited is a 'skill issue' 😭

[scarisd3ad]

－ 𝘙𝘦𝘥 －

𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮！𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯

𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 ➪ 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

𝗧𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁?

𝗕𝗮𝗯𝘆, 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁 𝘂𝗽 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲

It was just nearing Halloween, actually Halloween was tomorrow. It had also been almost a year since will byers went missing, the zombie boy that's what a lot of the younger kids in our town called him. El, we haven't seen el since then we assumed she ended up back at the lab I really hoped she was safe. Steve and I ended up breaking up a couple months after that fateful night in the byers house. We just weren't right for each other, we weren't able to deal with the trauma we had developed from that night. He was also still slightly in love with Nancy wheeler so the moment she was emotionally available again he was gone. It hurt me a lot, well at first. I still loved him but I didn't want to put myself through that again. I was done getting played by Steve harrington, so I vowed to myself that even if he came back begging on his knees I wouldn't let him do it to me again, never again.

"Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!" dustin yelled as he scurried around the house checking under the couch cushions. "Another stupid penny!" Dustin muttered "dusty watch it! You almost hit mews" my mom said petting the meowing cat. "Yeah dusty don't hurt my baby" I grinned as he rolled his eyes "can I please check under you cushions?" Dustin asked "dusty" "mom please it's an emergency!" Dustin whined.

"Go get my penny bank dust" I rolled my eyes "wait really! Thank you!" Dustin sprinted into my room and returned with a pink piggy bank.

He opened it up and started to empty it out. "Do you want me to go with you?" I asked Dustin shook his head "nah I'm fine" I rolled my eyes "it's pretty late dust" I said "oh yeah ok fine I guess" dustin mumbled. "Ok let me get my keys" I quickly got up and grabbed my keys before heading out the door.

Dustin quickly ran into his room for a few seconds before coming back out. "Bye love you mom" both Dustin and I said before walking out to my car.

"Have you seen Steve recently?" Dustin asked "well at school" i mumbled. "Do you miss him?" dustin asked "what's with all this questions" I laughed "do you?" Dustin asked again. "Ok maybe a little bit but I'm not going to put myself through that shit again" I sighed.

I pulled up to the arcade and parked my car. Dustin quickly ran up to Mike, and Lucas. "Hey y/n!" Mike smiled "hey bud how have you been?" I asked ruffling his hair. "Oh god please if Steve try's to take you back take him back im tired of seeing him" Mike groaned. I giggled "I don't think he'll do that he's very in love with your sister, and if he did I'd say no sorry mike" I sighed.

A couple honks quickly pulled us from our conversation. "Hey!" The boys all yelled as they waved to will. "Hey will" he smiled as he walked up to us.

"To slay the dragon, use the magic sword!" The game said "oh Jesus! I'm in uncharted territory here guys." Dustin said as he played the game. The boys were all huddled around Dustin as I stood to the side. "Down! Down! Down!" The boys chanted "I'm going! I'm going!" Dustin replied. "Okay shut up shut up shut up!" Dustin shouted as he frantically pressed the buttons. "No. No. No!" hate this overpriced bullshit!" Dustin shouted as he lost.

"Your not nimble enough but you'll get there one day but until then princess daphne is still mine!" Lucas teased. "Whatever. I'm still tops on centipede and dig dug" dustin sighed. "You sure about that?" Keith asked "uh sure about what?" Dustin furrowed his eyebrows. "Your kidding me. No no no!" Dustin pushed past us "move move more no no no no" he ran towards the games. "No!" He shouted"751300" Will said "that impossible" Mike sighed "who is mad max?" Dustin asked Keith "better than you."

"Is it you?" Mike asked "you know I despise dig dug" Keith scoffed "then who is it?" Lucas asked "yeah spill it Keith" Dustin demanded. "You want information, then I need something in return" he smirked. They all turned towards Mike "no, no, no, no way, your not getting a date with her" mike said. "Mike come on just get him the date" Lucas pleaded "I'm not prostituting my sister!" Mike shouted. "What about you?" Mike asked Dustin, "nah y/n's still in love with Steve" Dustin sighed "I am not!" I slapped Dustin's arm "don't act like you don't still where one of his jackets to sleep" Dustin laughed. "I dont" I groaned, "well then go on a date with Keith" Mike begged "I've got better standards wheeler" I rolled my eyes.

The boys all argued I just sat there rolling my eyes until I noticed Will was gone. Shit I lost a child and the child who's mom is the most anxious about her child going missing again. I quickly walked outside and there he was "will are you ok?" I asked he gasped and turned back towards me. He turned back around studying his surroundings with a confused look on his face. "Yeah I just..I needed my some air" he sighed "come on their waiting for you."

➪➪➪

I pulled up to the school and parked, I got out and saw Nancy and Steve sitting in his car. I rolled my eyes. I still couldn't believe he had left me for her again! Like yeah she was pretty and way better than I'd ever be but he gave me this whole song and dance about how loved me and not her, how cheating on me was a mistake. He was just an asshole nothing was going to change that.

Tires screeched as a car pulled up into the parking lot and parked next to my car. A guy with blinding hair, and a girl with red hair, she looked about Dustin's ages got out of the car. He had a cigarette in between his lips and the girl held a skateboard. She stared to skate off towards the middle school.

"Hi" the guy walked up to me a smirk I only had only ever seen on Steve's face plastered on his face. "Hi" I smiled "and you are?" I asked "billy what's your name princess?" He asked, I didn't hate it but I didn't like it either. "Y/n nice to meet you" I smiled as I shook his hand, "well y/n I would really like to take you out" he pressed a kiss on top of my hand. I giggled a bit "um maybe" I said quietly "do you have a boyfriend?" He asked "well- um no" I said.

"Well then I'll take you out how does next Friday sound?" He asked "yeah um I guess that sounds great" I smiled.

➪➪➪

Walking out of second period I got handed a flyer for a Halloween party. I wouldn't be able to go though I was babysitting my baby cousin. "Y/n are you going?" Nancy popped up beside me making me go "I've gotta babysit my cousin" I sighed "you and Jonathan always watching kids" she groaned before walking away.

I heard Nancy shriek which made me turn my head towards her. It was just Steve in his stupid sunglasses.

"Hey y/n" Steve walked up to me awkwardly. "What do you want?" I asked "are you going to the party?" He asked I shook my head "babysitting" I sighed. "Oh" he mumbled "yeah" I sighed, "well I'll see you I guess later" he said as he walked backwards.

Short first chapter sorry

[square-blunt]

You're in my heart, in my heart, in my head.

The normal empires fic in which shit goes from 0 to -100 to 100 and back to -100 in like, 2000 words. Scott ruins shit bc he's a dumbass in love. Jimmy watches him die. Y'know, the normal fic you'd see on the empires tag. This is a Minecraft Roleplay.

TW- MCD (major character death), Gore, (blood. and like, big knife mention). Angst. there is so much angst- emotional mental physical, it's all that shit. Sacrifice, screaming, crying, and they kiss so that's fun but y'know.

WC: 2009

Ao3: :) Second Chapter: :)

Scott knows something is wrong. He feels that pit in his stomach- familiar emptiness that clouds his vision and his mind. His feet start to move forward. He knows- he knows something's happening.

He knows Jimmy is in trouble.

He hasn't been in Mythland much- but somehow he cuts through trees and knocks over stands almost like he knows exactly where he's going and nothing was gonna stop him from getting there. It's getting dark- that's weird it was just noon-

Scott looks up to see where the sun is. 'This can't get any worse,' he thinks. You're never supposed to fight a demon when there's a solar eclipse, everyone knows that-

Scott hears a scream. It sends his heart up into his throat- that's Jimmy. Scott sprints forward and bursts through the treeline and he's at Sausage's summoning circle- no- no no no-

The sight is terrible. Sausage- his body is practically decaying under the weight of corruption- of possession. Xornoth's possessed the man he once saw as a friend. And Joey's by his side, a book in hand, chanting in elvish. They've crafted an obsidian altar- and writhing in chains, desperately trying to free himself is Jimmy. Tears are streaking down his face, his terror radiating off of him in waves.

Xornoth raises something above their head as the moon fully covers the sun- its last light gleaming off the object- it's a ritual knife.

They're going to sacrifice you- I don't want to lose you. He can hear Jimmy’s voice as clear as day.

Scott screams out a time-shattering “Stop” before he can get a hold of himself.

Everything does stop. Time, space, reality- it feels like Scott’s heart has stopped, too. Sausage looks at him with eyes that aren’t his own; Joey looks at him as well, but his eyes hold no rage or fear, only smugness. His eyes are drawn away as he catches Jimmy’s face. It goes from happiness to confusion, to heartbreak, back to confusion, and then to pure fear.

“Stop,” Scott says it a little quieter this time. His voice rings out against the stilled breeze. There are no birds, no nature, everything around them is either dead or too terrified to make a sound. Xornoth tilts his head, slowly and concerningly calmly. “Step away from him.” Scott’s hand finds itself on the hilt of his sword. Not like there’s much that could do, but he has to do something.

Xornoth laughs. It sounds like Sausage.

“Scott-” Jimmy says, and immediately cries out in pain. Scott looks up- Joey was the one to twist his arm. Under any other circumstances, Scott would have lunged forward and sunk his sword into Joey’s skull, but since Xornoth is still holding a very painful-looking ritual knife, Scott stays put.

“Jimmy, don’t say anything-” Scott begins, his voice tight with panic. Xornoth speaks up before he can continue, Scott’s heart dropping in his chest. His voice sounds like Sausage, too.

“Brother, have you come to replace your lover from another life?” Xornoth’s voice is suffocatingly rich with sarcasm and fake pity.

Scott can’t answer. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He doesn’t- he can’t look at Jimmy.

“I know you remember, great champion of Aeor, I know you do.” Xornoth grins, their face contorting.

“I do, and I have,” Scott says, finally getting over the lump in his throat. The lump comes back tenfold as Xornoth’s grin grows impossibly wider.

“Scott- no- what-” Jimmy begins to say, but Joey quiets him with another yank on his restraints. Xornoth puts a hand out, and Joey drops the ropes.

“You know what I need, brother,” Xornoth says, their voice eerily emotionless.

“Scott- don’t do this-”

“Jimmy, please,” Scott says, closing his eyes to keep the tears at bay, he can’t give Xornoth his own humanity.

“Scott-” Scott winces as Jimmy’s voice breaks. Jimmy doesn’t know, he can’t remember-

Scott takes a deep breath, and once again, speaks before he can tell himself to stop.

“I, Ellinair, take the place of this man so that he might live free of pain or suffering for the rest of his life.” Scott needs to make sure that Jimmy gets off free, with no strings attached. So Xornoth can’t hurt him after he’s gone.

“No- Scott, what have you done- why-” Jimmy sits up, some of the ropes have disappeared but he still can’t leave the altar.

Xornoth laughs- it doesn’t sound like Sausage anymore.

“A great elf with a great future who was stolen in the night and thrown into an arena for the devil’s delight. And you fell in love. How cute!” they snarl, “Unfortunately, as you died, you were whisked away from our grasp. I had to find you again, and wasn’t I lucky that I found your husband instead? And, better yet, without your protection! It was so easy, brother, to just come in and take him. To use him. Sweet, dopey, stupid Jimmy. Why would he be the one tied to that dragon? I kill him, and nothing will happen other than a shortage of slimeballs and a few tears. The only use for him was that he was close to you. He’s nothing but a pawn to get to you. And you, in your blind devotion, played right into my hand. I was never going to kill him, it would honestly be too much effort to do so. I was never going to kill him. I was only threatening to kill him so you would change places with him, so Exor could finally triumph over his brother. You are weak, Ellinair, in your love, in your loyalty- or lack thereof. You always were weak. And now I’ve won. Exor has won because you fell for a mortal. Because of a flower. It’s sickeningly amusing, I must say. But unfortunately, it seems that your time is drawing to a close. Lesser, you may release the ‘bait’.” Xornoth ends their monologue with a direction Scott takes a moment to realize is for Joey, who follows it immediately. Jimmy, now free, lurches off the altar like it was burning him alive. He rushes over to Scott, questions bubbling up and out of him. His hands move to hold Scott’s, but Scott isn’t exactly... present. But he can still hear Jimmy. How he wishes he couldn’t.

“Scott- Scott what’s going on- I thought you- what’s going on? Why did you- Scott- why did you take- what-” Jimmy asks, clutching at Scott’s hands. Scott hangs his head, Jimmy immediately stops and lets him talk.

“Jimmy... you don’t know what you mean to me,” Scott says, tears threatening to fall, he can’t make eye contact with Jimmy.

“I think I can guess, at least,” Jimmy says, voice tight, cupping Scott’s face. Scott still can’t look at him.

“They’re right-” Scott begins to say- before Jimmy tilts Scott’s head to face him and kisses him. It takes Scott a second for his heart and his head to catch up to it- but Jimmy’s kissing him. Finally, after what feels like eons apart, he’s kissing him again. Scott kisses him back like he’s the air he’s gone without breathing for so long- Scott’s been without him for so long- and just when he’s got him back... he quite literally sold his soul for this. Time stops again- this has happened way too many times for it to be normal but Scott wishes it would stop forever. Seconds turn into minutes and it’s like the gods have finally taken pity on him and given him time to give everything he can. He’s sold his soul for Jimmy, and he’s never gonna get to see him again. The tears become too much, and they fall- but Scott would rather die now than break the kiss, so Scott’s tears stain both their cheeks. The kiss tastes the same it always did, like Jimmy, and it was heart-achingly familiar.

Scott can’t live without it.

Funny.

He won’t live much longer anyway.

He is hyper-aware of Jimmy’s grip on him, on his face, in his hair, holding him close like they would melt together if they could.

Maybe Jimmy needs him as much as Scott.

And fuck, he needed Jimmy.

He needs to feel as much of Jimmy as he can before all he feels is a knife through his chest.

But right now all he cares about are the hands on his chest where the knife will go- the hands that are gonna be gone soon- Scott hasn’t been counting the seconds how long has it been- how long has Jimmy been kissing him- how long has he been kissing back- how long do they have left? Scott wraps his arms around Jimmy, trying to become inseparable- and Jimmy just holds onto him tighter. One of them sobs into the other- and all Scott can think is I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you- and he hopes Jimmy can hear him.

They both can hear a sickening crunch, instead.

As time crashes back into Scott's reality like a freight train, a number of things happen in rapid succession.

Jimmy is torn away, crying out in pain. It's familiar. Scott's tears break their dam and his vision is blurred- but he can still see Jimmy, sweet, dopey, beautiful Jimmy.

As Jimmy gets jerked backward, his and Scott's grip tightens on each other, and Jimmy's screams of agony make Scott want to throw up.

It takes everything Scott has to stay in place and keep Jimmy with him.

"'Scott something's on my back- something's hooked into me-"

"Jimmy- don't let go- please, please don't let go- I love you, please-"

"I won't- Scott- don't- I love you, too, I love you, too-"

Something cold sinks into Scott's shoulder, sending searing hot pain across his body- and making his arm go limp.

Scott and Jimmy are ripped apart from each other.

Scott screams for Jimmy and thrashes around, trying desperately to free himself, sobs ringing in his skull and fear and pain and regret raking through his body- but he refuses to stop looking at Jimmy, and Jimmy still looks at him. He catches a glimpse of what’s hooked onto Jimmy's back- it’s a massive tendril of corruption, and now it's holding Jimmy suspended in the middle of the air- it looks like it hurts him to breathe, much less call out Scott's name, but it's all in vain.

Scott knows he's going to die.

He gave his word.

But that doesn't mean he's not going to try and get away.

He needs to get away.

He needs to scream and cry and writhe and brace himself against the altar that whatever's hooked into his shoulder is trying to drag him onto.

He needs Jimmy to know how sorry he was because he’s gone and fucked it all up now. He thought he’d be able to play it off to Jimmy as ‘you don't deserve to die in my place' but when Jimmy looked at him with pure heartbreak and fear in his eyes he knew that he was doing it to save him.

Not the world.

Jimmy was his world.

Scott loses the fight and is dragged up onto the altar, where tendrils of dark crimson threaten to bury him alive, and one-handed he tries to swat them off. He can feel his power draining, he knows Joey's probably chanting again, but all he hears is Jimmy. He looks back, and Jimmy is still struggling and sobbing and Scott has to keep fighting to stay alive as long as possible just to be able to see Jimmy for as long as possible.

But the tendrils are growing in number, and Scott can’t keep all of them at bay and slowly he’s overtaken and restrained. The metal hook still sits painfully in his shoulder as his energy drains with his blood, he’s lost the power to scream.

Jimmy hasn’t.

Scott hangs onto that.

Scott hangs onto Jimmy’s screams, his sobs, his ‘Please stop’s, his ‘why him’s, Scott hangs onto the feeling of rage- at his brother and their tool hurting Jimmy like this- but the rage stays heavy on his chest. Rage and fear and pain swirl in his mind and every other emotion drains out of him.

All he knows is terror.

All he knows is Jimmy’s sobs.

He knows that he has seconds left- Xornoth’s probably already gotten the knife back up above his head.

All Scott can offer to Jimmy, all that he has left, is a weak smile of comfort before every sense he has cuts out.

Scott can’t see Jimmy.

He can’t hear Jimmy.

He’s failed everyone he’s ever known.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tokyo Love Story (Part 1) Ruri Kazama

Oh boy... I got a lot riding on this one. *sweats*

@rurifangirl by request.

Even after climbing up out of the elevator shaft, your long night wasn’t over. The police raid, the one that prompted Hydra to move all their files in the first place, was about to begin and every able-bodied operative was running around trying to clean up the signs of the battle in the mural hall and the signs of the deadpools’ reign of destruction, including the bodies left behind. 

Exhausted, hiding in an equipment room, you slept, propped up between Caesar and Chu Zihang. You couldn’t lay down. The act of lying down was too painful. Out of the three, you had suffered the greatest injury. You had fought the deadpool in the basement, only to climb from the bottom of the elevator shaft to find another battle. You’d reached the limit of your endurance, so Caesar and Chu Zihang offered their shoulders and kept watch. Your mind relaxes despite still being in the midst of the enemy and you quietly slip into oblivion, feeling safer than you had in a very long time.

But you were forced to lie down eventually. Caesar found an unwatched police car and carefully lifted you into the trunk, then they climbed in themselves and shut it. The police car left the Genji Heavy Industries building. The Hydra may be powerful, but at this time when their headquarters had come under such a devastating attack, they were not inclined to search police cars. That was how you finally escaped.

Every bump in the road sent lightning through your nerves. If it weren’t for your lost voice, you doubt you could have kept quiet. But just in case, you take your hair and bite it between your teeth.

“Your back is already partially healed.” Chu Zihang’s voice is audible, but you can’t see him because your eyes are firmly shut.

“I noticed that, but I wasn’t going to say anything about you in front of that humanoid dragon.” Caesar was saying. “You slept for three days and healed from a grievous gunshot wound that nearly took your life. He healed from a stab through the belly in an hour and now… even with your wounds cauterized, they’re closed up a little more every time I look at them.”

“MC, the Lenin, the strange port, the so-called Hydras and the Devil Clan… they’re all pieces painting a single picture.” Zihang stated. “The way he described the so-called Ghosts, it sounded a lot like you. You’re the same Hybrid Species, but you’re more likely to become deadpool. It was good that we weren’t captured by the Hydras. They would definitely have killed you. As a Ghost.”

Caesar hissed in fury. “The whole Hydra organization will burn before I let them touch you!”

To think that at one time you actually felt like you could fit in more with Hydra than Cassell. You had followed after Chisei in battle, admiring his strength against deadpool. But if Chisei had known anything about you, he would have slain you in that elevator. Realizing how much danger you were in made you sigh.

Your heart sinks. You had been hoping to talk to Chisei about what he might know about you and find out what more similarities you might have with him. But now, that date over sake would be an impossibility. Caesar was right. The world really is bullshit.

Your eyes flutter open again. “Caesar. I almost forgot to tell you something…”

“Save it. It’s too hard for you to speak right now, and I can barely hear you over the sound of the car. Take this time to recover.”

Sneaking out of the police lot wasn’t difficult. It was raining hard and that concealed your silhouettes.  The heavy droplets soaked your clothes and the blood that was caked on them. Chu Zihang is carrying you now, sprinting down the flooded streets of Tokyo. You leave behind a trail of deadpool blood that mixes with the rainwater in black inky streaks and runs into the gutters and down into the storm drains.

The sun was coming up. If you were caught out here, Kaguya might find out where you were hiding, Hydra would rush in to trap you, and you would die.

Caesar slammed open the door to the Takamagahara. It swung on its hinge and banged into the wall. The morning light swept through the city at that moment to illuminate their entrance. Caesar and Chu Zihang held the door, panting, wet shirts clinging to their bodies, drops of water falling from the tips of their hair.

"Yo, everyone is still awake? Good business in the store last night?" Caesar waved his hand in greeting. He looked from the light into the dark interior of the lobby and couldn't see very well, only that the dance floor was full of people. But you had buried your face in Chu Zihang’s chest to hide from cameras and had no trouble with light-blindness.

In a glance, you take in the scene. So much is going on. The women you had helped Caesar take pictures of in the VIP private suite of the Takamagahara are standing in a semicircle. Their arms are over their ample chests or their hands are on their hips. They were all glaring, and the target of their ire was Whale.

Whale, this man that seemed like such a powerful tycoon when you met him, that was bold enough to keep harboring you despite being illegal immigrants, had been reduced to a groveling servant before them, kneeling on the floor, surrounded by scattered paper money. The bills were quite large, but no one moved to touch them.

Fujiwara, the former Sumo star and the man you described as the biggest Seal on the Shore of Baikal, was standing between them and Whale,  but his appearance was not that of someone who was going to try to defend Whale. It was the appearance of the shield bearer who happily takes the sword strike for his King and gives him the chance to escape!

Even though the Takamagahara should be closing, all the performers are crowded into the space, motionless in a bow, eyes downcast. You recognize your official suitors in the MC Romance competition among them.

Armani frowns deeply at you. Now that he was in the light of day, you can see that he’s the classic cold and stern type of handsome male character, someone with high standards of food, drink and clothing. Even now he was wearing a slick suit that was hardly wrinkled from the night’s activity. But despite this current figure, he had been wearing something far more revealing to meet you and you saw his belly button ring.

Chance snorts and tries not to laugh, covering his mouth with one hand before schooling his face into a sorrowful look. He was dressed the same with his chain and his sleeveless open puffy coat. You notice his henna tattoos go all the way up his arm in a twisting serpentine pattern. 

Diamond, the sexy cowboy, just looks at you in astonishment. He was the one who had been the most forward and confident in his win. Now he realized that after you had refused to give him a star-heart ticket, you went out with other boys! This had never happened to him in his entire life!

 But it was Calypso, the one who had handed you the closed rose bud, who spoke, pointing at Chu Zihang and Caesar. “What are you doing with her? You’re not competing!”

Everyone turns to look at you. Caesar’s eyes finally adjusted to the low light of the lobby and you see his face go taut and his eyes widened. “Shit!” He squeaked!

The humpback whale looked horrified and said, "You can't come back and speak that way to the guests!”

Chu Zihang touched Caesar's back with his elbow as he scooted over to hide behind him.

Caesar immediately understood and walked up to the women with an elegant salute, "How did you sleep last night? You look much better!"

"The guests drank too much and fell asleep. We went out for a bite to eat." Chu Zihang stammered. His Japanese was horrible. After all, he could make money with just his face and his sullen attitude so there was little need to work on pronunciation when all he had to do was mumble.

Whale is staring with eyes as big as dinner plates at Chu Zihang who was still carrying the travel bag with his sword inside. The bag was soaking wet and the blood mixed with water pooled on the floor where you stood. It looked like he’d hidden a severed head in there! Chu Zihang’s eyes shifted to his bag and then looked back up. “The Main Character was injured in the Earthquake so we had to take her and others to the hospital.”

It was a stupid story. It would have been better to keep his silence! Who knew Chu Zihang could stammer out a dumb line like that? It was about Lu Mingfei level of dumb. But Chu Zihang owned it, glaring hard with the cold stare of a killer. If he couldn’t make them believe his lie, he could at least stop them from asking any questions.

 Whale’s lips trembled. "I don't believe it! Can’t you make up a more logical lie about finding a dead cat or dog hit by a car in the street. So you brought it back to bury it because you like small animals?”

    "Ah! Right, Ukyou! Are you okay?" A large woman stepped around the sumo wrestler. If Fujiwara was the King of the Seals, this had to be the Queen. Her dress strained at the seams to contain her and she was like a giant egg testing the weight limits of her tiny heels. Her lips were smeared with gaudy red lipstick and she fluttered her gold powdered eyes at Chu Zihang.

But Chu Zihang’s reaction was telling. The way he tensed up, held you tighter and his eyes got wide, shocked you.

 "Who is the roadside nobody you rescued? Maybe he's a yakuza? Maybe it's some other bad guy or something that could….”

You turn and look at the woman, still carried in Chu Zihang’s arms. The woman’s face went pale and then paler, about as pale as the faces of the deadpool. Her mouth dropped open like a deadpool too only she didn’t have the rows of teeth to display. Her whole body started to shake and her hands went over her mouth.

Then her hands balled into fists, her eyes narrowed and her head dropped as if she were going to charge you. She let out a scream that sent chills up your spine. It wasn’t any words, just a primordial screech. Her face flushed red to her hairline. When she finally found the words, she bellowed, “Who the fuck is that?!”

She lumbered forward, eyes blazing with rage. “Get your hands off my Ukyou! You Bitch! You Bitch!” She swung her purse and missed you by inches, but her aim was good. She missed you because Chu Zihang had turned his body to shield you and the purse cracked hard against his jaw. Unbeknownst to both of you, she had filled her purse with bottles of champagne. Her plan was to take these bottles as a ‘fine’ for the insult of what happened to her last night. But at the sight of you, they became a weapon.

The sound of those bottles smashing against Chu Zihang’s head was audible to all and if there was any doubt as to the sheer force of her anger, her Prada bag turned dark and started to drip and the hall filled with the smell of champagne.

You look at him in disbelief. 

Chu Zihang didn’t move, but his eyes were wild. A small red bead of blood formed at the corner of his mouth and that turned into a thin red line down his chin.  The pressure of his fingertips against your skin told you that this blow really hurt.

She hurt him. That thought rings like a bell that sounds deep in your stomach and turns it.

The woman looks shocked for a moment. She didn't mean to strike him. He was hit because he protected you. "Why are you protecting her? I'm your client! Asshole! Do you know who I am? How dare you! How dare you take what I’ve paid good money for and give it to this hussy! You’re nothing but trash! No different from a dog! We spend good money so you can please us! And when I buy something it’s mine! Do you understand? Do you speak English? MINE!" Her face is inches from his. She reaches out with one hand to try to yank you out of his grip.

The woman suddenly stopped as though frozen in time. Her voice was cut off and she started to tremble. People couldn't see around her, they only saw your stare. It was like the empty and frozen stare of a shark, but you were smiling, a sort of strange disbelieving smile. You tilt your head in a curious gesture.

They couldn’t see that bronze dagger you’d slipped under the folds of her neck. If this woman so much as swallowed, the ripple of her throat would be enough to cut her. 

But the combination of empty eyes and surprised grin was far more frightening. It was the look of someone who snapped. The bronze claw in your hand was enough to pierce the flesh of Rank-A deadpool. With only a little pressure you could sever her head!

You were hungry, exhausted and in pain. But even if you had been perfectly fine, you weren't going to sit by and let this woman abuse him. He had fought all night with you, nearly died for you and then carried you here. This precious person who had rushed into the fire, who had patted your shoulder to comfort you. She treated him like an object, like a slave right in front of you.

Despite the ice of grief breaking around your frigid heart, giving you a glimpse of the possibility of happiness, you were still trained to kill and you’d killed for less… much less… than what she’d just done.

Caesar slowly turned his back, "I hate to see two women fight ...... so I can only turn around."

“My career is finished…” Whale softly moaned.

"Excuse me, is this Takamagahara? Ruri Kazama has taken the liberty of coming to visit for the Romance Contest." Someone knocked gently on the door.

You, along with everyone else in the room, looked over at the door in surprise.

The door was open. A handsome man with a boyish face stood in the mild sunlight, wearing a white shirt and black suit, with fresh straight black hair in a ponytail, holding a bunch of budding tulips.

The man was a little embarrassed by everyone's stares. He bowed deeply and offered his business card with both hands. “Please forgive my tardiness.”

"Master Kazama ...... Ruri?" Someone said in a reverent voice.

Master? You turn and look at where the reverent voice was coming from, but the entire hall was silent and no one spoke again. Chance was standing in mute astonishment. Armani’s sharp black eyes were wide.

Your knife lowers from the fat woman’s neck and you squint at this newcomer, wondering why this man was held in such high regard. He was nothing like the muscle bound flirts who had been jostling for your favor before. His manner was more like a shy school boy. As far as his appearance was concerned, you could be forgiven for mistaking him for a svelte young woman.

Fujiwara sprinted over, took the pure white business card. He held it high above his head as he took it back and placed it in the hands of the Whale.

"It's really Master Kazama at the door." Whale straightened his bow tie and stepped out to welcome him.  "Today is a glorious day for Takamagahara." The Whale bowed deeply.

 "I've heard a lot about you, too, Senior Whale. Yoroshiku Hajimemashite." Ruri Kazama returned the bow.

You reach up and gently wipe the blood from Chu Zihang’s face. “You okay?” Your voice is still gone, but he’s close enough to hear. When he nods, you ask, “Who is that?”

“There is a ranking in the Male Escort Association, and Ruri Kazama is the number one on this ranking for six consecutive years.”

“So what you’re saying is…” You rasp. “He’s like… Time Magazine Hottest guy?”

Chu Zihang shakes his head. “This ranking is not based on beauty nor popularity, but on the principle of art. Those selected are considered Master Ikemen. Ruri Kazama is a legend. They say he exists only for love. If he continues to keep this legend maintained for ten years, then he has the hope to become the god of the male escort world and will have a shrine built for him to receive offerings.”

You snort, disguising it as a sneeze, covering your face with your hand. “I’m almost sorry I asked.”

But Chu Zihang doesn’t seem to share your humor. “The fact that he has joined this contest raises your status as well.”

When you look back, the wind blew the hem of his coat, and Ruri Kazama stood in the sunlight with a slight smile. Although he behaved like the one shy kid from high school, you can’t deny his beauty. It shines like water: light and natural, but at the same time, reflected the sun’s infinite luster.

Ruri Kazama bowed deeply to Caesar, "It's BasaraKing, isn't it? This is a man who is as spontaneous as a Gundam."

He bowed again to Chu Zihang, "This one, if I'm not wrong, is Ukyo Sensei, said to be the image of a swordsman, but acts like a gentleman."

Then he looks at you. At first glance, those eyes looked clear and soft. But the longer you looked, they looked like two deep pools, the water of which was transparent. When you looked into their depths, however, they were pitch black, bottomless, and frigid.

[sezja]

Sleeptalker (part 2/?)

Part 1

Fandom: FFXIV

Ship: Guydelot/Sanson (pre-relationship)

-

The Churning Mists are a gorgeous impossibility to a man born and raised in the Twelveswood - the Black Shroud might be dangerous and unpredictable to the unwary, but at least it’s reliably landbound. Guydelot can’t stop marveling at the impressive beauty of it all: the floating islands, the towering ruins, the dragons…

But it’s not the dragons he keeps watching from a distance, is it?

He can’t put words to the why of it, no more than he could in Tailfeather, when his every instinct said to head back to Gridania in truth and leave Sanson to the hunt on his own. Just another day or two, he told himself, over and over, and every day found him lurking on the fringes of the hunters’ settlement… watching Sanson. The way he talked to the hunters, asking questions. The way he chatted with Sylviel for hours at a time - about the Ballad of Oblivion, sure, but other tales and songs from Ishgardian history besides, all while Sanson took diligent notes. And sometimes he’d catch Sanson gazing off into the distance, frowning slightly, almost as though he were looking for something. Maybe looking for him.

Don’t be stupid, he scolds himself. Warns himself. Don’t read too much into it. He should make good on his plans and go home, Sanson’s goading remarks about being named a deserter be damned. He doesn’t need to be in the Gods’ Quiver to be a bard, after all; who says he has to stay in Gridania? He could do what the Warrior of Light does: travel the world, see the sights, lend a hand or a song where it’s needed. If this mission’s been good for naught else, it’s given Guydelot a taste of wanderlust. Yes, the idea of traveling the world, footloose and beholden to no one but himself, has a certain appeal.

So why’s he here, then?

Here: the summit of Sohm Al. Here, watching Sanson nap in the shade, blissfully unaware of Guydelot’s proximity - scant yalms away, and creeping closer with each minute.

Idiot. If he wakes up, all you’ll get is a lecture.

Sanson’s not been sleeping well, and Guydelot knows it; he’s seen the way Sanson wakes in the middle of the night to rise and pace, fitful and restless, near the entrance of Moghome. Always peering off into the distance. Are you looking for me? Despite himself, Guydelot takes a few steps closer again, knowing he should leave. Knowing he should turn tail and retreat to where he’s been hiding since his arrival… but this close, he can see the dark circles under Sanson’s eyes, and it tugs at him. It shouldn’t. It shouldn’t, and he’s mad for letting it. But he moves closer anyway, fearing - half-hoping - with every step that Sanson will wake and find him there.

But he doesn’t stir, though Guydelot’s close enough now to hear the familiar sound of Sanson murmuring in his sleep. Despite everything - their argument, his frustration, the knot of emotions sitting heavy in his chest - it makes Guydelot smile, and he settles himself down on the grass, surrendering the option to sprint away at the slightest sign of Sanson stirring. Fine. Let him be caught, then.

I miss you.

That’s the truth of it, isn’t it? In spite of everything. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that - and perhaps he’s grown more than passing fond of Sanson Smyth, in observing him from a distance all this time. There’s something special there, under all that stiffness. A spark of passion, fierce determination, a streak of unexpected recklessness… and yes, yes, a love of song that goes far deeper than Guydelot suspected, and he wonders where that comes from; where does a soldier learn a love for music? But that, like so many other things, Guydelot never thought to wonder until it was too late.

He could come back, he knows, but how? Pretend he never accused Sanson of using song as a tool? Pretend he never stormed off like a scolded child? No, this warrants an apology, but how? Sanson despises him, and why not, when Guydelot was thrust upon him as a poisoned gift, meant to sabotage any hope Sanson might have of achieving his dreams? How is he meant to apologize for being angry - hurt - that Sanson called him what he was, that he laid out the truth without mincing words?

And yet… and yet.

I miss you.

The sleepy muttering warms Guydelot more than it should: just the sound of Sanson’s voice again! Incoherent as it is, it’s still good just to hear him. He could sit here for hours. Gods, why is it so hard to make himself apologize? Swallow his pride, shake Sanson awake, and just...

“You must be Guydelot, kupo!”

The voice makes him jump to his feet, swearing - it’s rare that anyone manages to sneak up on him, but then, moogles have something of an advantage. Belatedly, he glances at Sanson, but the other man hasn’t so much as twitched. Deeply asleep indeed. Or… Guydelot glances suspiciously at the moogle. “Sleeping spell?”

“Only a little one.” The moogle waves one paw, somewhere between guilty and dismissive. “He needs the sleep, kupo. And I wanted to say hello.”

“Is that right.”

“I’m a bard too, you know! Mogta, the finest moogle bard who ever lived!” Flapping merrily, the creature produces a small harp, much to Guydelot’s bemusement - where was it keeping it? - and strums a few notes. “Once you join us, we can seek the Ballad of Oblivion together! Why haven’t you joined us yet, kupo?”

Guydelot glances at Sanson. “You mean he hasn’t told you?”

“Well… no.”

Quite a change from enumerating my many faults and flaws right in front of the Warrior of godsdamned Light, eh? Guydelot shakes his head. “Never mind. I ain’t joining you; you might as well go on without me.”

“What?” Alarmed, the moogle flaps closer. “Why not!?”

The answer to that question would take all day. Guydelot kneels beside Sanson instead, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face; knowing he won’t wake, where's the harm in it? The drowsy muttering barely pauses. Guydelot shakes his head. No. No, he doesn’t have the right words to fix what’s broken here, and maybe he never will. Maybe he doesn’t deserve to see it fixed: if ever he had a chance to prove himself to Sanson, he blew it. Worse, he threw it away, never knowing what he had.

It’s true, all the things everyone’s ever said about him. Just a waste of potential.

He doesn’t deserve to be in Sanson’s company.

“Never you mind.” He rises, stretches, walks away. “I just… can’t bear to be around him, that’s all.”

I miss you. Gods, I miss you, and I’m so sorry.

[spaceskam]

Happy birthday @lire-casander! Here’s some young and in love malex! Sending all the best vibes your way❤️️

ao3

Michael: sneak out

Alex: I can't

Michael: sneak outttt

Alex: my dad's home

Michael: all I'm hearing are reasons for you to sneak out

Michael: please?

Michael: pleeeeeaaaassseeeeeee

Alex: fine! Give me a few minutes!

Michael: thank god i need you naked like yesterday

Michael: pictures aren’t enough

Michael: this is true suffering

Alex: omg

Alex stuffed his phone into his back pocket and checked himself in the mirror, quickly touching up his eyeliner and his hair. He always felt a little giddy every time Michael requested his presence, especially when it was to sneak out on a school night. There were certain things that he didn’t expect to have in high school. A boyfriend with a truck and a no-holds-barred attitude broke all of those expectations.

After he was pretty sure he looked good, he sprayed himself with cologne and made sure his door was locked. His dad was actually pretty good about not checking in on him after 10PM and he knew that he had until 5 in the morning before he needed to be presentable. That was a solid amount of time to be reckless with Michael Guerin. 

He quietly pushed up his window and climbed out, putting a pen beneath it as he closed it back. He made sure it didn't look too obvious before he started to head to the front of the house and started jogging down the street towards the truck that was waiting for him.

He hopped in the passenger seat and Michael immediately grabbed him, pulling him close. Alex giggled as he doused him with kisses in any place he could reach before he met his lips, immediately slipping into something far too explicit for the first kiss of the night.

"God, I missed you," Michael groaned, giving him a sloppy kiss that dragged across his cheek and down to his jaw.

"You saw me at school today," Alex laughed. He didn't push him away, though. He didn't want him to stop or let go.

"Fuck school, I can't touch you at school. I just want to touch you all the time," Michael complained, his hand slipping up under the back of his shirt. Alex smiled helplessly.

"And I want you to," Alex told him. It just seemed to fuel him, his grip getting tighter and tugging him impossibly close as their legs struggled to overlap in the small space the truck provided. "But maybe we should go somewhere else?"

"Fuck, yeah, you're right," Michael agreed, slowly peeling away from him. He rested his forehead on Alex's for a moment, marveling at him. "You're literally the most beautiful thing in the universe, did you know that?"

"Shut up," Alex laughed, stealing one more kiss, "Drive."

"Yeah," Michael agreed, giving him one more dazed look before turning his attention to the road and putting the truck in drive.

Alex did his best to be good, simply tucking himself against his side as he drove somewhere where they could do whatever and no one would see. Neither of them were exactly keeping a secret, but they weren't really parading it either. If people knew, they knew, but they weren't going to be announcing shit and they didn’t feel the need to show PDA when other people were around. It didn't matter how many fancy laws the state passed. Tensions were still high when two boys were interested in each other, so they kept it to the people they trusted.

"I'm so ready to get the fuck out of here," Michael said, "When we go to college, it's gonna be great. I'm gonna kiss you in front of everyone."

"That's your dream?" Alex asked, smiling at him and nuzzling his nose beneath his jaw.

"Well, my dream would be kissing you in our big ass mansion in California that overlooks the ocean that we pay for on our rich people salaries. But I’ll settle for college," Michael told him. Alex laughed and kissed his shoulder. 

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you, baby.”

“Stop, you’re so cheesy,” Alex said, shaking his head. Michael just gave a proud little hum.

A few minutes later, Michael turned onto a dark, narrow road that was shrouded by trees. If anyone else was driving, it probably would’ve been scary, but Alex trusted him more than anything in the world. Maybe that was stupid of him, but he didn’t mind feeling stupid when it came to him.

He eventually slowed to a stop and shut off the truck, the lights still shining as it overlooked a cliff. Michael turned to him and gave him a kiss that didn’t last nearly long enough.

“C’mon,” he said instead, flashing that wild smile before climbing out of the truck. Alex followed without question.

He only started having questions when Michael started taking his shirt off and walking towards the edge of the cliff.

“What are you doing?” Alex asked. Michael threw his shirt onto the hood of the truck and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Skinny dipping,” he said simply, “C’mon.”

Alex was a little hesitant though, looking over the edge of the cliff. It wasn’t that big of a drop, probably only about 25 feet or so, and the water looked deep enough with no sharp rocks in sight. His stomach still twisted with anxiety though and he looked back to Michael who was taking off his boots, still grinning at him.

“No worries, I’ve jumped off this cliff before, it’s safe,” he promised.

“No rocks?”

“None. Water’s at least, like, 30 feet deep, too, because I couldn’t reach the bottom when I tried.”

“No fish? Sharks? Alligators?”

Michael laughed, “Did you just ask me if there’s alligators? In New Mexico?”

“Hey, it could happen!”

“No, there’s no alligators. And, if we see one, I’ll protect you,” he promised. It was hard to do anything but blush and roll his eyes at that. “There’s fish, but they’ll usually steer clear of you after you jump in.”

“Mhm,” Alex hummed, “And no one’s gonna come and steal our clothes or anything?”

“No one comes here, they all go to the caves in the desert. That’s the cool people spot, this is my spot,” Michael explained. Alex nodded in understanding. He’d never even heard of this place before. “Stop worrying, it’s gonna be fun.”

Michael kicked off his jeans and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, pausing as he looked at Alex.

“You gonna join or are you just enjoying the show?”

“Can’t I have both?”

“I mean, yes,” Michael agreed. Alex rolled his eyes and then pulled his shirt over his head. So much for touching up his hair and makeup.

Michael discarded his boxers before coming over to help Alex strip. He was so confident in his body and Alex loved it more than he could describe. He wasn’t exactly shy about his own, but Michael was the type of guy who could walk down the hall in school completely naked and not give a shit. He just wasn’t a clothing type of guy and it was the opposite of a problem.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” Michael gushed as Alex put his clothes on the hood of the truck beside Michael’s. He moved in for a kiss, pressing their bodies flush together. Skin to skin, no shame involved. It was funny to think that, once upon a time, Michael had been unraveled by the mere idea of kissing him. Now... Well, now, that seemed to be the main event.

“So are you,” Alex whispered, hands gliding up his bare sides. His skin was so hot compared to most people and Alex didn’t know why. He figured it had everything to do with them both being excited every time they could touch each other.

Michael gave him a string of kisses that ranged from his lips to his forehead to his collar bone before peeling off him and then breaking into a sprint. Alex watched as he just ran and jumped off the edge of the cliff, all inhibitions cast aside. Alex felt like this is what love must’ve been. Watching someone jump off a cliff and wanting nothing more but to follow.

So he did.

He ran and he jumped, the fall lasting hardly more than a second before he plunged deep into the dark water. It was exhilarating, his heart thudding in his chest as he pushed back to the surface and laughed as he did so.

“See! Told you it’d be fun!” Michael announced. Alex just swam closer, throwing his arms around his neck and wrapping his legs around his waist. Michael laughed and kept them afloat as Alex went in for a kiss.

He knew he probably wasn’t as pretty in that moment, his makeup smeared and his hair flat from the water, but he figured he could kiss Michael long enough that he wouldn’t notice. Not that that was ever a chore. 

Alex played with his wet curls as he parted Michael’s lips with his tongue, feeling him hum in response. It was indescribably easy to be with Michael Guerin, to kiss him like nothing else mattered, to hold him close without any fear that he’d drop him, to trust that he wouldn’t hurt him even if he had the option. Alex had never felt so safe with someone before. That should be scary... but it wasn’t.

“So, our mansion in California,” Alex whispered, his fingers sliding over Michael’s jaw. He pressed another kiss to his lips, slow and deliberate. “Do we have a dog?”

“Two,” Michael confirmed softly, focusing all of his energy to just keep them afloat and letting Alex just control all of the kissing. What a fun little thing that was. “And a bearded dragon.”

“Oh yeah?” Alex asked, smiling at the idea of having pets with him. A little family. “And we can have a big kitchen too where we can cook all the time.”

“And fuck on the floor while we’re waiting for things to finish baking,” Michael suggested. Alex laughed, giving him another long, languid kiss with just a little bit of tongue. It left Michael breathing a little heavier.

“And a big bathroom, too, with a big, one-sided window that looks out to the ocean.”

“California king sized bed, too, even though I’ll probably just be sleeping right next to you.”

“That’s okay, leaves room for the dogs to share.”

“Exactly.”

They both gave soft laughs as they stared at each other for a moment. Alex forgot the fact that his mascara was probably making him look like he had two black eyes because it didn’t matter when Michael was looking at him like that. It was like he was so confident that they were going to get that or get something close to that. They were going to be something, both separate and together.

“I love you,” Alex said honestly. Michael’s eyelashes fluttered and his face went soft. He was so sweet.

“I love you too.”

They spent awhile just kissing and wading through the water until Michael’s arms got tired from holding them both up. They swam to shore and it was only then did Alex realize that they’d have to walk all the way back up to the truck while naked.

“Don’t worry, I know a short cut,” Michael promised, laughing the minute he saw his pouting. Still, he pressed his thumb into Alex’s bottom lip and then pulled him into a kiss. It made what should’ve been a short three minute walk into ten minutes.

They got back to the truck and, instead of being adults and checking the time to make sure they weren’t going to be late, stumbled into the side of it while trying to get as close to each other as possible. Laughs mingled in the night air as they both tried and failed to get a grip on each other, hands slipping off damp skin.

It was only when Michael said fuck it and dropped to his knees that Alex found anything to grip. He leaned against the truck, his head tilted back with his hands in Michael’s hair. This was reckless, this was stupid, this was technically illegal and considered public indecency at the very least, and, damn, it would make for a good story to tell Liz and Maria the next day. 

Alex moaned into the night air, unrestrained and unafraid. He wanted to live in his night, live in this perfect bubble of them and nothing else. It was only them, only this. Forget regret, right?

Michael finished him off and then left a string of kisses over his hips, hands pressed to the back of his thighs for a few extra seconds until he was sure Alex would have no problem standing on his own. He got back on his feet and kissed him until Alex felt braindead all over again. Yeah, this was love.

“I gotta get you home,” Michael said when Alex offered to return the favor, “Tomorrow night, maybe?”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, still feeling like he was floating on air. It must’ve been obvious because Michael laughed and kissed his cheek, wrapping him up in a hug. Alex hugged him back and breathed him in. 

They eventually had to pull apart and get dressed, touching each other much more than was actually necessary but that felt like someone else’s problem. Even as they got back into the truck, Alex couldn’t be sad that the night was ending. In fact, he was happier than he’d been in a long time. He was always left on that cloud whenever he spent time with Michael.

“Sanders is gonna be so pissed when he finds dirt stains on the inside of my jeans when he’s doing laundry,” Michael noted as they started driving home. Alex laughed from his place tucked into his side.

“I’d say blame me, but...”

“But he already knows and will still blame me,” Michael mused, “I can hear him now, ‘I don’t care what your up to, boy, but stop being stupid about it’. And the stupidity comes from only the stains, by the way, not the me being shameless.”

Alex snorted a laugh. “I wish I could be shameless.”

“One day, baby, it’s gonna be great. Just you wait.”

Michael dropped him off a few blocks away, saying goodnight with a kiss that promised more tomorrow, and telling him to make sure he texted him when he got inside so he knew he was safe. Alex did just that after he climbed back into his window, carefully closing it so he wouldn’t wake anyone else up.

Alex: didn’t die

Michael: oh good cuz that would suck

Alex: love you <3

Michael: love you moreeeee :*

Alex fell into bed, not caring that he smelled like gross lake water, and held his phone over his heart. 

College couldn’t come soon enough.

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Two Gods, One Braincell

Kagami goes on a self-imposed quest to save a terrible place from meeting its timely demise.

Chapter 1: Here There Be Dragons

Summary:

Now leaving heaven:

A cat has joined your party.

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

Kagami rolled among the clouds, riding the jet streams of the upper sky. Her long snake-like body glinted scarlet and gold in the late afternoon sun. The wind whipping against her mane and whiskers and antlers. She held her four claws close to her side and closed her eyes.

"Having fun?"

Snapping open, Kagami's slitted pupils tracked the source of the voice. A shadow leapt across the fluffy clouds, stark against their color; keeping up with her despite her speed.

Ah, him. Relaxing, she allowed herself a grin before suddenly twisting straight down. The cat let out a yelp as he overshot his mark, quickly following her to the earth.

Keeping one eye on the cat Kagami sought the cover of forest. Shifting into mortal form as soon as she was hidden in the leaves. There she waited.

And not long. Kagami's keen ears heard him shifting as he landed on the forest floor. Had she been any other he would be as silent as a cat. But she was a dragon.

"Ka-ga-mi!" He sing-songed, voice echoing so that if she did not have him in sight she would not know where it came.

Her fingers twitched impatiently as he stepped closer. She forced them still. More than one of her ambushes had been exposed because of her fidgeting. He came nearer. One more... One more... Now!

Kagami leapt from her hiding place and had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen in surprise before they tumbled to the ground.

"Ah, hello to you too," Adrien grunted. He wore black robes in the style of the western gods.

In her scarlet kimono (which would be very restrictive for a mortal) Kagami sat on him. "This marks my twelve thousand four hundred and fifty second win to your twelve thousand four hundred and twenty-three."

"Yes, yes, very impressive, I can't breathe!"

"Don't be so dramatic," Kagami replied without the barest hint of irony. Still, she rose off of her fellow deity. "You know we don't need to breathe."

" 'Don't be so dramatic,' says the dragon" Adrien muttered, cleaning himself off as he stood up. "Tackles me to the ground, goes running off without a word, leaves me to deal with-"

"You mean like all the times I bailed you out after you did something stupid?"

"Name one stupid thing I've done!"

Before Kagami could begin listing the long, long, long, long line of dumb ideas Adrien's had since Creation itself he cut her off.

"This century!"

Cheater. Well, at least it was a good one. Kagami grinned smugly. "You made Marinette mad at you."

Red bloomed on Adrien's cheeks as he spluttered a reply. "You said you wouldn't bring that up again!"

"I did no such thing." Kagami turned smartly away from him and began walking. "You begged me not to mention it and I said I'd consider it."

"Oh, very clever," Adrien replied sarcastically, following.

"Thank you."

"Anyways, what're you doing out here?"

A demon burst out of the foliage and charged at them. Alerted by their bickering, the brute brandished a club overhead. Saliva dripping from its tusks, maw towering over them.

Kagami shifted. Thunder roared from her mouth lined with sharp teeth. Claws like swords, scales like fire in the lengthening shadows. Long, muscular body dwarfing her opponent's. Narrowed eyes promising a quick end.

The demon dropped its club and ran, letting out frightened squeals.

Adrien held his palm up, shadows coalescing into a sphere of pure darkness. Casually, he tossed it at the retreating demon. "You didn't answer my question."

The demon collapsed as the orb of shadow struck it square in the back. A rabbit sprinting away from where it fell.

Still in dragon form Kagami picked up the crude club with two talons like it was a baby mortal's diaper, snout wrinkling in distaste. "Have all smiths vanished from among the demons?" She tossed the so-called weapon aside. "I remember them being much more of a challenge."

Adrien puffed out his chest. "Your welcome."

Kagami snorted, shifting back into mortal form. "We could have left them a sword at least."

"You didn't answer my question," Adrien pointed out.

"Did I not?" Kagami asked innocently. Or rather tried to. Adrien often pointed out that she was far too honest to lie properly.

"Please, don't let this dragon!" Adrien grinned.

She wasn't smiling. No, her lips did not twitch upwards. "That was terrible."

"Well, sorry that I've had a long flight!"

"Wrong language."

"It was ryu-ly tiring!"

Kagami whirled on Adrien and put a hand over his smirking face. "Stop!" She would not be bested by second class material!

"Mm tho enn u the mm at nno!" Adrien mumbled through her fingers.

His breath tickled so she pulled her hand away. "What?"

"Ah! I said, I'll stop when you tell me what I wanna know." Adrien rubbed his nose in a way Kagami could only describe as cat-like.

Shaking the distracting thought from her head, Kagami focused on what had brought her out here in the first place. "There is a city that's been cursed with drought."

Adrien stiffened. "O-oh?"

"It's been a year. Their reserves are almost gone." Kagami quickened her pace as she thought about what would happen to all those mortals if they didn't get rain soon. "The council won't do anything! They just sit there and 'pass judgment'. Which really means doing nothing! What good are they if-"

"It wasn't a council matter."

Kagami paused. Turning, she saw Adrien fidgeting nervously. "... What did you do?"

"Why does it have to be something I did?" Adrien asked defensively.

"Was it?" Kagami demanded, peering straight into Adrien's eyes.

"Okay, fine! I cursed the city! There, are you happy?"

"You gave an entire city drought!?"

"No, of course not!"

"Adrien," Kagami walked up to him and, ignoring the height he had on her, pinned him to a tree with her arm. "What was the wording exactly."

"May you reap what you sow."

A chill went down her spine and she dropped her arm. A curse like that... Rumors, deceptions, lies. They were all seeds of nothing. And apparently the curse decided the best way to reap nothing was to make sure nothing grew.

She sighed. "A year. They had a year to break the curse themselves." A growl of annoyance grew in her throat and Kagami shifted to better indulge the urge.

Adrien shifted into his great cat form, shoulders level with hers, and bumped against her scales. "How did you find out about them anyway?"

"I heard someone pray for them."

"Ah."

Kagami didn't need to ask what they'd done. It was all semantics. All that mattered was that most of them had learned nothing from it. And yet... "How did they attract your attention?"

His slitted eyes narrowed further as shadow black fur bristled. "They desecrated the hall of judgment."

Kagami's mane rose as her whiskers trembled. The hall of judgment was both court of law and temple to justice. If any god besides Adrien had stumbled onto them... They were exceedingly lucky misfortune was all they suffered. "Morons."

"Extremely," Adrien agreed, pressing his giant, warm, feline body closer and purring.

"They do not deserve my help," Kagami declared, laying down and curling her tail around Adrien.

"Nope," he followed her example and stretched out on the leaves covering the forest floor. "But you're gonna help anyways, aren't you."

"Obviously." Kagami turned her long, serpentine neck so she could rub her muzzle against Adrien's.

No mortal would have been able to read how Adrien's face softened while in his current form. "I love that you're so kind."

"You're forgetting about that fleet I turned into driftwood."

"Bragging about your exploits does not diminish the compassion you feel for others. And that armada had it coming."

If Kagami was still in her mortal form she would have blushed. Thankfully, that was physically impossible for dragons. Instead she touched the tip of her nose with Adrien's. "You'll help me?"

"If you need it," he acknowledged easily. "One little curse should be no match for your storms."

"Your curses are hardly that simple, Adrien." His tail flicked happily, as though she'd given him a great compliment. Kagami knew he disliked using his curses cavalierly but like any god Adrien took pride in his work.

"Then we should get going." He stood and stretched like an overgrown housecat. "Traveling in the lower world takes so long when you don't have Max with you."

"I hope that wasn't another pun."

"If I'm feline punny what business is that of yours?"

In response Kagami took off. Letting the wind she summoned buffet Adrien; his protests following her as he leapt into the air. Her laughter booming like thunder as they raced across the sky.

Notes:

@kagamiappreciationweek2020 Written for Kagami Appreciation Week 2020. (The accuracy of the title is yet to be determined.) Is this all going to be self-indulgent nonsense? I mean, yeah, probably.

[50scentsofsoap]

Cinema

It’s always a treat being able to go to the movies with your pal Jungkook

word count: 1.9k genre:  fluff

author’s note: A little idea about some platonic friendship, because you can truly love your friend without feeling any romantic attachments to them.

music: Apollo - The Lost Twenties

“That’s 35,450 won please,” the cashier said in her customer voice. Funny how people's voices change so drastically depending on who they're around. I can tell her real voice is a lower pitch than the one she just used. I tap my phone on the machine reader whilst the device scans my fingerprint. God bless contactless payment.

The cashier hands me a large bucket of popcorn, a cup holder with 2 sodas and a packet of kitkats. “Enjoy the movie!” Her voice was a bit too enthusiastic, either she's new or she hates her job. “Thanks,” I reply with half as much gusto. 

I sit on the sofa that's nearest the entrance to the cinema and check my phone. My lock screen shows nothing new, so I turn my data on to check for any online updates. Again, nothing new. I turn my data off and open up my messages, when I feel a chill creep in from the entrance. From my peripheral vision, I can see that this breeze was accompanied by the person I was expecting. Even with his low beanie and black face mask, his posture immediately reveals who he was. 

“I thought you'd stand me up again,” I note, my voice an octave lower than normal. I can see he's cocked his head towards my voice, his eyebrows raised as if he's surprised. His eyes were big and brown, but I could see the faint red veins and drooping eyelids.

“You look like crap, when was the last time you slept?”

“Um… yesterday?”

“Jungkook, you didn't have to come if you were tired. We can watch the Avengers film later when you're feeling up to it.”

“No, I want to watch it today. I won't have any time other than tonight, besides I'd promised to watch a film with you.”

He was right. Jungkook was always so busy, even finding a slot in his schedule to meet up for coffee near impossible. He's here now, and if he says he wants to watch the movie, we'll watch the movie.

“Fine, but if you fall asleep, you're paying me back for your ticket!” I get up and shove the food into his arms.

“So,” Jungkook begins as he stuffs some popcorn into his mouth, “what's the plot so far with this film?”

I'm putting in my reservation code at the online booking kiosk. “Well…” I explain the storyline as I open up my Android Pay app, “so they all hate each other but not really. Why did you ask about the story, haven't you seen Civil War?”

“No.”

My thumb is hovering over my phone's home button, millimeters away from authorizing the payment of 2 adult cinema tickets. I close the app and cancel my reservation. Jungkook is about to ask what I was doing.

“Change of plans,” I say with a strong voice, cutting him off completely, “when do I have to drop you off by?”

“Um… I told Jin Hyung I'd be home for dinner”

I glance at my phone's screen, 16:56. He ate dinner quite late, around 9 o'clock. A sneaky idea started to form in my mind.

“Tell Kim Seokjin-ssi that you're having dinner with me and I'll drop you off by 10pm.” I take the sodas and kitkats from him, and motioned him to follow me. I start walking briskly to my car, in an attempt to somehow warm up in this winter weather. I can hear soft thuds behind me, obviously he's wearing Timberlands. I reach for my keys when I'm close, when another thought strikes me.

“Jungkook-ssi when was the last time you drove a car?” I get my keys out and unlock the car.

“I haven't really driven a car since I got my license,” he looked so shy and adorable. “Jin-hyung let me drive the car to the studio a couple of times but that's only a 5 minute drive.”

“Well,” I start while putting the keys back into my pocket, “then you can definitely drive for 2 minutes using navigation right?”

“Yeah, but why?”

I walk to the passenger side and open the door with my free hand. “Jungkook-ssi you'll be driving to my apartment.” I slide inside and close the door next to me. I put the sodas in the cup holders next to me and open the kitkat packet. “Aren't you going to get in?” I ask with a stern voice. While I'm focused on my kitkat piece, I hear the driver side door open. I take the popcorn from Jungkook while he slides into the seat. The seat is too forward for him, so he moves it backwards and adjusts the rear view mirror to his height. The sat nav on my dash showed the approximate time it would take to get to mine, and calculated the most appropriate route to avoid the heavy parts of traffic. An easy 10 minutes route.

“Are you going to be ok driving?” I ask him. I did pretty much thrust the task of driving onto him out of nowhere. I was never this spontaneous, I always stuck to a plan.

“I'll be just fine.” He took off his mask and beanie, Lord I'd forgotten how good he looked. He presses the engine on button and the car roars into life. He starts slowly peeling away from the parked space and onto the main road.

Looking at him now, I still can’t believe it’s been all these years since we became friends. It’s so weird how we just ended up talking about G Dragon at a random cafe, only because my crappy headphones were bleeding out Niliria. Well, also because I was killing the rap on Missy’s part. Oh, how much we’ve both grown since that fateful event. He’s successful in his idol group and I’m the head at this small, private tech firm. He grew like bamboo while I got stuck at 163cm. Life was good, and I was grateful for every minute of time on this Earth.

“Ah, Y/N-ssi? Where do I park?”

I had gotten so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even realise when he’d driven to my apartment’s underground parking. The ride was so smooth… Jungkook-ssi can really drive well.

“Um… number 78, 3rd floor parking.” I watch him, curious. I pay attention to his hand movements as he turns the steering wheel. His hands. Damn. His fingernails were well trimmed and cuticles groomed. I’m pretty sure he’s been using Jin’s hand cream again. I see my number ahead and point it out to him. The car pulls up to the spot, and Jungkook parks it without a hitch. Hmm, he parks better than me. I take the sodas and popcorn in my hand and exit the car, the remaining pieces of the kitkat are tucked away in my pocket. I walk over to the driver side, where I see Jungkook-ssi come out. I hand him back the popcorn and lock the car.

“We have to take the elevator now to my apartment,” I explain to him. “Your beanie and mask are in my car, remember to take them with you when I drop you off!”

Jungkook just looks at the ground and smiles. “Yes, noona!”

I roll my eyes at his response and head to the elevators. Soft thuds behind me again, goddamn his Timberlands, he sounds like a puppy tapping the floor every time he follows me. “What do you want to eat?” I ask as we step inside.

“You pick.”

“Pizza?”

“I ate pizza for lunch.”

“Fried chicken?”

“I'm trying to avoid deep fried food.”

“Curry?”

“No…”

“Jesus you're so picky!” I exclaim as we exit the elevator, “Will you be ok eating roast lamb?”

“Yes that's fine.”

I walk towards my door and punch in my lock code. I let him enter first, then follow. 

“Wow, your apartment is quite big, and clean!” Jungkook said while looking towards my living room.

Damn, I should’ve cleaned up. My half eaten lunch is still on the breakfast counter, the laundry is drying on the radiator in the corner, and my laptop is still playing YouTube videos on autoplay. Shit. I was watching BTS crack videos before I left for the cinema. I put the sodas on my kitchen counter and sprint to the laptop. Fire had just started to play when I close my laptop lid.

“Wow, I thought you didn't listen to our songs!” 

“Well, I wanted to get myself up to date on your music.”

“Sure thing,” he took his shoes off and made his way to the couch. I walk over to him and airplay Civil War from my tablet.

I get my blanket from the closet and drape it over him, although he's still got his oversized coat on. I can hear him shuffling his coat open when I make my way to the fridge. I take out the marinated lamb leg and put it in the oven to roast, with a timer set for an hour later, that's when I have to put the potatoes on boil. 

As I walk back to the couch, I hear the faint crunching of popcorn. “Jungkook-ssi,” I start. Damn. Both his cheeks are stuffed with popcorn, and he's all wrapped up in my blanket, he looks like ET. Adorable child. “I'm just going to get changed into something more comfortable, if you need anything just knock.”

I swiftly make my way to my bedroom and get out of my winter wear. I slip into my soft pink oversized pyjamas and head back to the living room.

He's glaring at me as if there's a ghost behind me. Not to mention, he's red as a tomato. Jesus, what happened while I was gone for 5 minutes?

Did he break my tv? Did he spoil my lamb? Oh my god, did he open my laptop and look at my search history?

I'm worried so I just blurt out, “Jungkook-ssi did you do something?” He just shakes his head and tries to focus on the film again. I ask again, more stern this time, “Jeon Jungkook, if you have something to say… spit it out.”

“Well… uh,” his tone is shaky “you invited me to your place for dinner, and when you said you're gonna wear something more comfortable… I thought you were trying to seduce me. I know it's a crazy thought…” he rambles on further about how ridiculous he is to even think of that but I just let out a relieved sigh.

Is this boy attentive or just plain stupid? Either way, it was adorable how flustered he got. I joined him on the couch. “Jungkook-ssi you're not my type. Simple as that. Besides, it's way more fun with you being my friend, you're like a little brother to me,” with that I pat his head before snuggling up to the other side of the sofa, where there was more leg room.

“Oh yeah, by the way, are you older than me or not?” He asks.

“Hmmm... I'm not telling you that, but please keep calling me noona, it's quite cute.”

“Ok but it's awkward if you're younger than me.”

“Well then, would you rather I called you oppa?” I raise one eyebrow at him in a questioning manner. 

Silence. He focuses back on the movie again.

Truthfully, I'm younger than him but only by a few days. He hates being called oppa unnecessarily, so I just avoid it. It's quite weird actually, now that I think about it.

We're both invested in the movie right up to the heart wrenching climax. I put on ‘Saw’ straight away, because I'm in the mood for some horror, and I'm curious to see how much gore the boy can take. 

BRRRRRRR

Shit, the lamb!

[tinypurpleparrot]

Starfall - Chapter 49 - Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Summary: A Redguard Mage and an Akaviri Dragonslayer are forced to travel the harsh world of Skyrim in search of meaning, someone who'll stop gawking at how impossible they both are and help them, and whoever keeps letting dragons loose all over the country. So far, the native Nords aren't very helpful, even when they're actually trying to help. The gods are even worse, but when are they not? Every lesson gets harsher, the snow gets deeper, and their sanity a little thinner.

*

The Master-Wizard opened the gate for them and shut it behind them, though Kaidan wondered if they’d be able to get back in later, given the emergency. They got to the magicka beacon and stopped. Starfall immediately went into blind panic and clung behind Kaidan, while he found himself hesitating as well watching the ice and stone of the bridge crumble and fall off into the sea below. He wasn’t afraid of heights, but again, this was an absurdly stupid and dangerous situation those lazy-arsed mages had put them in.

The bridge wasn’t completely gone yet. If they were fast, and the dragon still hadn’t noticed them… “Starfall, hold on to me and do that sprinting Shout.”

“Are you fucking insane?!” Too loud and too panicked. The noise made her head swim and her throat scratch.

“For sticking with you? Yes.” And there it was. “Five minutes ago, you told me to drink poison! Now do it! And hurry up, we don’t have time for you to build it back up again!”

“Why?!” She whined.

“Because that’s just where we are, right now.” Kaidan hugged her tight to himself, half to comfort her, half to try and steal her warmth again. Neither was working well with his metal chestplate. “I’m starting to go numb, you’re overdosing on magic, and a whole lot of your new “friends” are in a lot of trouble. You’re Hungry, and killing the dragons means that’s at least two problems solved. Can we please just get this over with?!”

“Stop making sense!” She cried, hugged tightly around his arm, and made thrice damn sure she was facing the right way. “WULD!”

Read more at AO3...

[emilightniing]

 I’m doing it folks, I wrote the whole first chapter of my new Sanders Sides fic today and wowie I’m hyped about it

Title: The Kingdom at the End of the World

Genre: AU; fantasy; adventure

**Pairings: **eventual Prinxiety, Logicality, and Dukeceit

**Warnings: **Uhhh… peril/suspense, death mention, anxiety, nightmare mention, and I think that’s it?

Chapter 1: Fated Meetings

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom at the edge of the world.

Nobody knew how it got there, or how it was even possible; it simply was. And it always had been. And it always would be.

It was the land of impossibles; of wintry blizzards in the middle of summer that lasted an hour before vanishing, of earthquakes that wiped out entire houses only to have the ground seal itself up instantly, of kisses that could cure death one day and bring it about the next.

Every dawn of a new day was the potential for a new disaster; every night the potential for a new miracle. The sun would break over the hills that marked the border of the kingdom (and thus, of course, the border of existence) and the people would sharpen their blades, rebuild their fences and patch their roofs, and prepare for another day of unknowables. For everything, of course, was random, and nobody could possibly guess what the kingdom that had no business existing would throw at them.

Except for one small group of friends who almost never met. And truth be told, this is really their story.

Once upon a time, there lived a reluctant oracle, a determined researcher, a kindhearted gardener, a would-be hero and his twin brother, and a lone shapeshifter. But none of them started out that way, of course. Or perhaps they did. Either way, back when the chaos wasn’t quite so chaotic, when the unpredictables were just a little more predictable, they were children.

And that’s where the story begins.

The old torn sheet that served as a makeshift cape flapped behind Roman as he chased after his brother, panting heavily. He lunged, but miscalculated his landing step and fell headlong onto the grass, nearly earning a faceful of dirt. Remus cackled and dodged Roman’s outstretched hand by inches once again, then disappeared over the hill.

The game, one they had played many times before, was simple: Remus would swipe an object– usually of middling importance– from his twin’s side of their bedroom, then both would don their capes and wooden swords as the game of cat and mouse ensued. They only had one rule: Never get caught. It was an unspoken promise that the game was theirs and theirs alone, and as long as they stayed within the area and neither got seriously hurt, nobody else needed to know. Sometimes if they were unable to play out of others’ view, the game wouldn’t end for days, which delighted Remus and frustrated Roman beyond words.

It wasn’t often that they left the boundaries of their own yard and the visible stretch of dirt road beyond. But this particular chase was of heightened importance. The small homemade doll that Remus gripped in his grubby hands was Roman’s most prized possession. It was a fairly plain thing– white cloth face with clumsily stitched-on black eyes and a small half-smile, dark brown yarn for hair, black clothes, and a crookedly sewn purple cape. Its right hand held a shield fashioned out of a scrap of wood. It had taken Roman over two weeks of painstaking work to make the doll, and although he had made dozens of other little cloth people before and since then, nothing filled him with pride like his little knight. Remus didn’t know this, but if it came down to it, Roman was prepared to take drastic measures to get his companion back. He brushed off his dirty hands and knees and sprinted to catch up.

They raced down the hill with the early morning sun glaring in their eyes. It was the best time of day to play, when only the farmers and their animals were awake. The boys could shout their taunts and battle cries without any fear of being seen or heard.

Truly, this was the way they’d spend the rest of their lives if they could. And when Remus finally stumbled over a hidden divot in the ground and lost his balance, giving his twin just enough gain to catch him by the cape and retrieve the treasured knight doll, Roman felt a rush of warm pride and selflessness that he couldn’t explain. He felt a little silly– it was just a doll, after all– but he knew that he was happy. And this was the way he always wanted to be.

*********************

The sun was just barely up, but Desmond didn’t want to wait any longer to open his window. It had been getting colder and colder. Soon the snow would come and he wouldn’t be able to open it at all. Not that there would be any reason to; the winter before, the two boys had only run by a handful of times. The rest of the days had been as quiet and cold as the snow itself.

But this year would be different, of course– although he wasn’t sure if that made it better. More interesting, maybe, but he was so used to being alone that the idea of having to share a room with his cousin for the entire winter made him cringe.

He glanced over at the smaller boy, who appeared to still be asleep in the other bed. Dee hated to admit it, but they probably had more in common than they did differences. Ten months made quite the difference physically– he was a few inches taller, with wavy golden-brown hair and… well, they didn’t really talk about the left side of his face.

In contrast, his younger cousin was scrawny with dark brown hair and eyes, and unmarked pale skin. Despite all that, though, they were both quiet and solitary, each happy to retreat to his own corner of the room when the night came.

Dee gripped the handle of the window, grimacing when it stuck from the cold and opened with a loud creak. He held his breath and froze while the sheets across the room shifted, then relaxed again when the noise stopped. Slowly, he pried the window open the rest of the way and stuck his head out, leaning as far as he dared.

It was quiet for several long minutes save the sound of a few barn animals in the distance. In the year and a half he’d been observing this little piece of the Edge from his window, Desmond’s hearing had grown sharp and acute, able to pinpoint faraway sounds with a fair amount of accuracy. Not that it had much use in the real world, but it was handy to be able to know when someone was on their way up the stairs so he could close the window and pretend to be reading– something he’d done plenty of times. It wasn’t that he was afraid of being caught; it was just the idea of having to explain_ why _watching those two boys was so important to him. He didn’t even fully understand it himself, but the moments in the day when he saw them run by, when he could pretend for just a minute that he was part of whatever game they were playing– that made everything okay.

It was cold enough that he could see the sparkling frost on the fields, but just as he began to worry that they wouldn’t show up after all, he heard a wild laugh in the distance. A grin broke out across his entire face– a rare occurrence since he usually tried to smile only on one side or the other. He watched, entranced, as the messy-haired boy in the green scarf came sprinting over the hill, arms flailing as he hollered triumphantly. After a moment, his twin in the red scarf came scrambling over the top of the hill as well, charging with more determination than Desmond had seen from him before.

“Don’t you want a blanket?”

Desmond jumped back in surprise, hitting his head on the window frame. “Ow!” he cried out, face turning bright red. “Jeez, Virgil! Don’t sneak up on me!”

His cousin shrunk backwards, wincing. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t scare me,” he huffed, quickly turning back to the window to make sure neither of the boys had heard his outburst. Thankfully, it seemed they were too absorbed in their game to notice anything else. “And no, I don’t want a blanket. If you’re cold, get back into bed. I’ll close the window in a minute.”

Virgil didn’t say anything to that, but he stepped closer to the window. “What are you looking at?” he asked quietly. He seemed to understand that Dee’s hostility was just defensiveness. Because he was protecting something important.

Virgil knew how that felt. He didn’t receive a response, but his cousin shifted over slightly, just enough to allow room for one more observer at the window. They both watched in silence as the twin boys dressed in homemade capes chased each other over the golden fields.

*********************

“You know what would be good?” Roman said aloud after making sure that his little cloth knight was safely secure under his pillow once again.

“No, what?” Remus asked, hanging upside down on his bed. His shoes sprayed dirt and grass across the quilt as he kicked his feet.

Roman paused before answering, something he did when he had to deliver something of great importance. “If I had a real knight to go on adventures and rescue people with. That would be the best.”

Remus stopped kicking momentarily. “Hey, what about me? I can do that stuff.”

“You never _want _to rescue anybody,” Roman explained exasperatedly. “I need, um… you know, a squire.”

“Well then that’s not fair,” Remus pouted. “If you get to have a sidekick, I want one too. And he’d be way cooler than a knight. He’d be a dragon.”

Roman snorted. “Sure. Where are you gonna find a dragon? At least knights are real.”

To his surprise, Remus tumbled off the bed in a backwards somersault and glared at him as he landed. “Dragons are real too, dork-face. And I bet I’ll find one before you ever find your knight. And your stupid doll doesn’t count.”

Roman’s cheeks flared pink. “He’s not stupid!” he shouted, reflexively reaching under his pillow and pulling out the doll to cradle it protectively. “And if you ever touch him again, I’m telling.”

Remus gawked at his brother in silence. Neither of them had ever threatened to reveal their game before– as petty as it might have been, it was theirs. “If you do that, I’m gonna…” He glanced around the room, looking for something adequate to destroy. “I’ll just- I’ll smash the whole house!” he spat out before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Stunned, Roman wondered if he should follow his brother, if he’d gone too far, if he was really as much of a good guy as he imagined himself to be. Thoughts ran through his head until his eyes burned with tears and he fell back onto his pillow, hugging his knight doll tightly.

*********************

Logan had had enough. He couldn’t stand to watch the boy try to water the frozen ground for one more minute. He set his book down, carefully marking his page, and hopped down from the chair he’d been perched in for the last hour or so. He’d been trying to read, but somehow kept getting distracted by the curly-haired, clueless boy outside the window.

He opened the door to the library, frowning at the chilly air, and shuffled over towards the cottage next door. There stood a boy about nine years old– his age– wearing a pair of gardening gloves and holding a watering can in one hand. On one of the latest days of autumn. When there was frost on the ground and fog on the windows.

“Hello,” he greeted the boy, wondering how he was going to break it to him that his efforts were in vain.

The boy, noticing Logan at last, broke into a sunny smile. “Oh, it’s you! I see you at the library all the time, but you always looked busy. I didn’t want to bother you.” He removed his dirty gloves and offered his hand. “I’m Patton, nice to meet you.”

Logan blinked, taken aback by the verbose greeting. “Um. Well. I’m Logan,” he said, shaking the cheerful boy’s hand hesitantly. “Listen, I came over here because I noticed you were trying to water something…”

Patton nodded. “Mm-hm. I’ve been planting different things every season and seeing which ones grow. Most of them don’t, but sometimes they turn out really beautiful.” He pointed to a vibrant cluster of golden-orange flowers that were partially hidden behind a larger bush. And indeed, they were beautiful.

Well, this wasn’t what Logan had expected at all. In fact, he was left at a loss for words. The boy he’d assumed was naïve enough to be planting seeds in a frost-bitten ground was actually… well, okay, that was still what he was doing, but he seemed to know that it wouldn’t work most of the time. And he _must _have known a thing or two about plants if the small patches of resilient flowers were any indication. It was almost scientific, in a way. Like an experiment. Maybe not as organized as Logan would have done it, but still… well, he _hadn’t _done it, had he?

He felt slightly awkward and ashamed for having approached the strange boy, so he just nodded and prepared to excuse himself, but before he could say anything, Patton was talking again.

“It’s getting cold out, though. Do you want to come inside? We have tea and cookies.” A slight blush was forming on the tip of his nose and cheeks, but whether it was from the cold wind or his excitement to have found a potential new friend was hard to tell.

Logan’s mouth opened to decline, but he reconsidered. He couldn’t go home yet, after all; nobody would be there. So it was either stay in the drafty library and read quietly or go with this oddly kind boy into a warm house with food.

“I guess I can come in for a little while,” he reasoned aloud, mostly trying to convince himself. He offered a small smile, wondering if he wasn’t making a completely illogical error by accepting this new person into his life.

*********************

Desmond didn’t know what made him look up from his book right then. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have let his eyes wander out the window even though it was the middle of the day. Nobody was ever out on the fields behind his house in the middle of the day, except the occasional herder. He’d made it a habit to avoid looking outside between mid-morning and late afternoon, because he knew it would only lead to longing and loneliness.

But for whatever reason, he looked out and saw someone indeed. His heart jumped when he realized that it was one of the twins– the wild one with the green scarf, whom he’d always harbored a fascination for. He was so caught up in watching him run that it took him a moment to realize what was wrong. Where was the other boy? He had never once seen them apart, ever. And it was always the boy in green chasing the boy in red, never the other way around.

So he really was alone then. But why?

Virgil noticed his cousin staring out the window. He saw the look of confusion and concern on his face and wondered if he should stay out of it, but Dee gestured for him to come over.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil asked.

“Nothing. I mean, I don’t know,” Dee said. “I’m trying to figure it out.”

The younger boy was quiet for some time, and when he spoke up, it surprised them both. “He’s running away from something.”

That was the thought Dee had been avoiding, and it made him frown deeper. “You think so?” he asked quietly. “What would he be running from? He’s not afraid of anything.” He was talking more to himself than to his cousin, but when he glanced over for confirmation, he noticed that Virgil’s face was even paler and more troubled-looking than usual.

“I was awake even earlier than you this morning,” he confessed, looking at his hands and fidgeting anxiously.

“So? What does that have to do with anything?” Dee said impatiently.

Virgil didn’t look up as he blurted out: “I had a nightmare. I’ve been having a lot lately, actually. That’s part of why I’m staying here, you know. To see if I can get them controlled. Or something.”

Dee stared at the dark-haired, trembling boy. “What kind of nightmares?” he asked at last.

Virgil shook his head. “Things… things that happen. Sometimes bad things, sometimes weird things. Sometimes they happen the next day, sometimes the next week, sometimes they never happen at all.”

“What are you saying, Virgil?” Dee asked, more calmly this time. “So you have visions of things happening before they happen?” When the other boy nodded, he pressed on: “And last night, you saw something happening today?”

“No… I don’t know!” Virgil looked to be on the edge of tears now. “It’s never in the same order. Once, I dreamed about this giant bird that came down and wiped out an entire farm. And that happened, remember?” Dee remembered. “But before that, there was the tidal wave that opened the pit in the sand. And I dreamed of that too, but that was even longer ago. Sometimes I forget the dreams until the day they happen, and then it’s too late.”

As they waited for the information to sink in, both boys continued to stare out the window, watching the lone twin pause to catch his breath. His back was facing the hill he had just descended from, so he didn’t see the flare of fire that shot out from behind it, nor the smoky-looking black dragon that peered over, looking for prey.

At first neither Virgil nor Desmond could move. Time seemed to halt as they stared at the beast, at the black fog-like aura it produced, at the boy at the bottom of the hill who was certainly no match for a dragon. Nor were the other two boys. Nor was their house; although if the dragon was satisfied with just one prey, there was a chance it would go home without destroying any houses. Staying inside gave them a chance, while leaving would… well, if it didn’t kill them, it would change everything. Desmond knew that in his heart, as sure as he knew the sun would rise.

“There’s a big vine on the side of the house,” he said quickly and decisively, shoving open the window. “We can climb out and slide down; it’ll be faster.”

Virgil looked at him, open-mouthed. He nodded, swallowing his terror, following his cousin out the window and down to the ground below.

They were in full view of everything now– “everything” being the boy whose green scarf had fallen off, and the dragon in pursuit, but that was more than enough– and Desmond hadn’t been this exposed to the world in so long that he’d forgotten how utterly terrifying it was, dragon or no dragon.

The left side of his face, covered in scale-like marks and ridges, had once matched the right. Two years prior, it had begun to change for no reason. None at all. The more his parents had fussed over it, the more people had stared, the more he’d hidden himself from the world… nothing had made a difference either way. His left iris had shifted from a dark brown to a sickly yellow, like a reptile’s.

He’d grown used to it; even though he’d long since gotten rid of the mirror in his room, he’d still catch glimpses of himself in the glass of the window. And he could accept that this was how he’d always be.

But oh, he’d forgotten how it must look to a person who’d never seen him before. And judging from the look on the wild twin’s face, Desmond’s half-reptilian face was a new and unexpected sight.

But that didn’t matter now. It didn’t matter that he’d never be able to watch the twins again– if they even wanted to run through the fields near his house now that they knew he lived there. It didn’t matter that any small remaining dreams he’d had of joining them in their game were now crushed into dust. It didn’t matter. Because the raging dragon was getting closer, and the three boys were directly in its line of sight.

“It’s okay, I have a plan,” he spoke at last, lying through his teeth.

“Yeah, me too. Keep running!” The wild boy grabbed one of each of their hands and yanked, dragging the two stunned cousins behind him.

“What are you doing? We can’t outrun a dragon!” Dee yelled, not thinking about how tightly they were holding each other’s hands.

“What, so you just wanted to stand there and get cooked into little burned meat chunks?” retorted the other boy. “Man, I thought_ I _was stupid!”

Before Dee could think of a suitable comeback, he heard Virgil mumble something inaudibly. “What’d you say?” he asked. When Virgil didn’t respond immediately, he  shouted, “Virgil!”, snapping the younger boy out of his state of panic.

“I- I said, I said there were two.”

“Two what?” Dee demanded.

Virgil glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening at how close the dragon had come. “Two dragons… in my dream…” he managed to choke out before stumbling to a halt. He fell on his hands and knees and stayed there, breathing rapidly and squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I should’ve done better…” he mumbled as the other two desperately tried to get him to his feet again.

“Come on! We have to go!” Dee screamed. A deep, terrifyingly powerful feeling was building inside him. “Virgil… come on, run!” he begged once more, before the dragon swooped down towards the three boys, engulfing them in shadow.

*********************

Roman had never run so fast in all his life. He’d thought that the doll was important to him, but when he’d realized his brother was missing, and then heard the panicked rumors of a dragon flying low over the outskirts of town, he hadn’t even stopped to think. He’d just let his legs carry him down the path he and Remus had beaten from years of chasing each other in their silly game. Down the field, over the top of the hill– and he stopped dead in his tracks.

There wasn’t just one dragon, but two, and they were fighting each other in midair. One was sleek and black and shadowy; the other was small and muted gold, and both seemed to be fighting with everything they had.

The second thing he saw was two boys in the shadow of the dragon’s battle– one unfamiliar, the other very familiar indeed. He snapped out of his daze and called, “Remus!”

His brother turned to look at him, shocked, and began sprinting towards him just as Roman did the same. They met halfway, grabbing each other’s arms in relief and fear.

“Let’s go!” Remus cried, starting to pull his brother back up the hill and towards home.

Roman, however, fixated on one thing. “Who is that?” He pointed at the cowering boy– no, not cowering, surely, for he was brave enough to face a dragon. He must have been in trouble, or else he’d be running away too.

“I- I dunno,” Remus said in frustration. “Look, he’ll be okay, but we gotta get out of here!”

“We can’t just leave him there!” Roman protested, starting to make his way towards the boy.

The dragons were getting tired now, and their battle was dangerously low to the ground. Roman barely dodged a stray flare that sizzled the ground as he approached the stranger. “Hey!” he called out. “Can you hear me?”

The boy, who hadn’t yet moved from his position on his knees, slowly turned to look for the source of the new voice. His eyes landed on Roman, but he remained still.

“Come on, it’s okay now,” Roman said. A bit of an exaggeration, but if it would draw them both away from danger …

“Roman, hurry up!” Remus called from the top of the hill.

Roman held out his hand, not wanting to get too close and frighten the other boy away. “C'mon, come with me,” he pleaded. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.”

The boy looked up, then around, then back at Roman. Slowly and shakily, he stood up and began to stumble over towards him. They would make it.

Suddenly the boy looked overhead and stopped in his tracks, gasping. “Look out!”

“Wha–” Roman barely had time to say before he was knocked down onto his back as a razor-sharp spear of deadly magic landed inches away from him. He looked up and took in the sight of the dark-haired, pale boy who had landed halfway on top of him and was breathing rapidly, eyes squeezed shut to prepare for the worst.

Roman reached out on instinct, gripping his protector’s hand. “Are you okay?” he asked, praying that the answer was yes.

The boy opened his eyes. “I think so,” he said softly.

Roman gasped with recognition. My knight! he thought. He looks just like him.

“You saved me,” he said aloud.

Before they could say anything further, one of the dragons let out a screech. Whether it was one of victory or defeat was hard to tell, but all at once the black dragon was flying away, retreating to whatever dark recesses it came from, and the gold-colored dragon was sinking to the ground, exhausted but triumphant.  

*********************

“So let’s get everything straight,” Logan mused, scribbling words furiously on a notepad. With the dim light reflecting off his glasses, he looked and sounded much older than his nine and a half years.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Desmond said.

“It doesn’t,” Logan said simply. “Just because you can’t explain it doesn’t mean it’s crazy.”

Dee raised his eyebrows. “Thanks, but I turned into a dragon and back again while my cousin’s having nightmares that sort of predict the future, but not always. It’s okay to say that sounds crazy.”

Virgil smiled a little, a small victory in Dee’s eyes. The younger boy hadn’t spoken much since the incident, which had happened three days ago. In that time, Dee had managed to collect himself and ended up reasoning that he needed to tell someone about everything that had occurred. Not his parents; not any adult. “They wouldn’t believe me,” he’d explained to the others, but the true reason remained unspoken but known between the four boys: Desmond and Virgil had no way of knowing what would be done to them if their abilities were discovered. They could be locked up, sent away, even killed if people were fearful enough.

This was the Edge, after all. Anything could happen.

So the four had gone to the library to seek out information about their conditions. Histories, legends, hidden records, folk tales– anything at all would help. Instead they’d found Logan, a boy just Dee’s age who seemed wiser and more level-headed than any adult they’d ever met, and Patton, a boy who’d been ready to believe everything they told him and determined to help them no matter what.

Nobody paid much attention to the group of whispering boys who occupied the back corner of the library nearly every day that winter. But once upon a time, there were six unlikely friends who were lucky enough to learn how much they needed each other.

And for years, everything seemed like it would be all right.

Then things on the Edge began to shift.

[georgiabread]

dust off your wings

summary: simon snow used to slay dragons. who would have thought he’d be afraid of moths?

rating: T

word count: 2425

ao3 link: dust off your wings

SIMON

I’m not saying I don’t care about the environment, but if all species of moths died out, I wouldn’t be upset about it.

I certainly don’t need them around. Especially when I’m half-asleep on the sofa watching Lord of the Rings. I might’ve had a nap. I know Penny’s studying in her bedroom and Baz – well, he left to get a drink (of blood) earlier, but I think he wanted to go home. I don’t expect him to come back. But now I can’t have that nap.

Because there’s a ginormous moth – probably the size of my face – chilling on the wall below the window. I know it’s the size of my face because one time, a moth flew right into me while I was searching for Baz in the Catacombs. I had just swung my torch round a corner, and one of those manky sods hurled itself out of the dark and nearly went in my mouth. Screamed blue murder, I did, before I legged it to the exit.

Right now, I’m seriously considering doing the same thing. Realistically, I should just leave it alone. Or scoop it up and put it outside. Or kill it. If I still had magic, I could kill it. I was absolutely rubbish at casting spells, though – I’d probably create more moths.

I try to let Lord of the Rings distract me, but the moth hovers in my peripheral vision like it’s a threat and I can’t loosen my shoulders. I can’t just leave it there. Merlin and fucking Morgana…

Frustration flares up in my chest, and suddenly I’m standing, the TV on pause. I pick an empty bowl from the floor (I ate all the salt and vinegar crisps) and scowl at this dastardly thing in my house. My feet won’t move me any closer, though. I feel awfully exposed without a shirt or shoes. Bugs are easier to fight when you’re wearing shoes, I reckon.

I creep forward anyway, holding the bowl to my chest like a shield instead of the trap it’s supposed to be. The moth just sits there. All I need to do is get the dish on top of it, right? I can figure out the rest later. I sort of jerk towards it, but I don’t actually go all the way. Fuck, I’m not getting anywhere. I’m fucking useless. Why can’t I just –?

I let out a sharp growl and launch the dish at the moth. And I miss it completely. The bowl clatters on the floor, and the moth jumps off the wall and right into my face again. I shriek, scrambling away, trying to strike it and then – well, I fucking vault over the sofa, don’t I? Wings flaring and everything.

I look up after regaining my balance, and the moth is gone.

That’s when I hear the squeal of the door hinge, and I swivel around. Baz is standing on the threshold, gaping. He looks like he just witnessed an attack from the Humdrum. There’s colour in his cheeks again.

‘What the fuck just happened?’ he asks.

BAZ

Usually, I wouldn’t put it past Simon Snow to treat his furniture like hurdles. He’s boisterous. He’s a child with a sugar rush. And without his magic, he always needs an avenue to channel all that stifled energy. Just...not recently.

Recently, that energy has festered away in his bones, trapped and sweaty for as long as he’s spent lying on the sofa. It’s like he doesn’t want it to go anywhere. Like if he lets it escape, he’s losing his magic all over again.

So, yes, it baffles me when I walk into the room to find him bouncing off the cushions and lifting empty snack packets in the thrust of his wings.

It’s nice to see colour in his cheeks, though.

Snow crosses his arms over his bare chest and slouches awkwardly against the back of the sofa. He doesn’t look as nonchalant as he’s trying to be.

‘Baz,’ he says, messing with his already-dishevelled hair. ‘I thought you were going back to your apartment?’

I frown. ‘I told you I was getting a drink.’

‘Well, yeah. But I thought –’

I’m not having this conversation right now. ‘Can you answer my question? What did I just walk into?’

‘Oh – nothing. I just, um, I needed to stretch my wings.’ He sprawls them out across the air as if to drive his point home.

‘And you found it necessary to leap over the furniture?’

He nods a little too fast. Crowley, he’s thick.

‘Are you sure you weren’t rushed by a magickal creature or something?’ It’s likely – to some dark creatures, Simon’s sacrifice made him no less of an enemy.

‘Yes, I’m sure. I’m fine if that’s what you’re worried about,’ he scoffs.

I catch the way his gaze sprints around the room. He’s clearly not fine. He’s on his guard, but for what, I’ve no idea.

(It’s stupid, yet) I wonder if it’s me.

My jaw tightens, and I shrug off my coat to give my hands something to hold. ‘Well, I’m not worried, so I think I’ll –’

As I turn, something black quivers to my right. Before I can react, I realise it’s just a moth. Snow, however, hisses a bunch of curse words and flings himself to the far end of the sofa.

‘Snow, what on earth?’ I follow his gaze, and the moth settles on a lampshade. ‘Oh.’ My eyebrow quirks. ‘So that was the magickal creature threatening your safety.’

‘The – what?’ Snow splutters. ‘The moth? Come on, that’s tosh. It wasn’t threatening me – I’m not – I don’t even –’

I’m smirking now. ‘You know they’re harmless, right? All they do is bump into walls.’

‘Of course I know. You’re acting like I’m bloody terrified of ‘em.’

‘Aren’t you?’

Snow juts his chin out, fists like dumbbells at his hips. ‘No,’ he spits.

‘No?’ I peer at him, sifting through all that heat and flinty resolve. He’s trying to make this a challenge. He’ll only admit defeat if I don’t take him up on it, so I shrug. ‘Alright. I’ll take your word for it,’ I say, slinging my coat over the sofa, meandering towards the armchair.

Snow’s tail thumps against his trackie bottoms as I collapse into the seat. I slide my phone out of my pocket and pretend to look distracted. The moth sits on the lamp.

‘Baz,’ he says.

I settle deep into the grey cushions.

‘Baz.’ Again, but louder.

‘Hmm?’

‘Baz, I’m not –’ He huffs.

I glance up, and his eyes touch on the moth for half a second.

‘They just bother me,’ he finally pushes out. ‘They’re always flying around like they’re having a fucking fit, especially with those huge, noisy wings. Absolutely bonkers, they are. And they leave dust everywhere. I’m sick of it.’

I don’t smile, but the urge is fierce. ‘That’s an awfully strong vendetta against moths. Can’t you leave them to absorb their light in peace?’

‘If they’re so obsessed with light, why don’t they just fly into the fucking sun?’

‘They’re nocturnal, Snow,’ I deadpan. ‘Ever seen a moth during the day?’

He frowns like we’re back in Magic Words and I’ve just told him it’s I couldn’t care less, not I could care less. Then he looks at the moth again. ‘They probably wouldn’t be as scary if they came out at daytime,’ he mutters.

‘So you are afraid of moths,’ I announce, springing forward on an armrest.

‘No, I just –’ Snow bristles. I can almost hear the words crashing together in his mouth before they burst out. ‘Okay. Yeah. I am fucking afraid, alright? I’m scared of moths. Isn’t that a bloody laugh? Simon fucking Snow is afraid of bugs. You happy now?’

Cold guilt plunges down my spine. I dig my nails into the upholstery, and Snow’s heavy breathing loiters after his words. He’s watching the moth again. Crowley, I had no idea he would – I didn’t think it would be about this.

I stand up, aiming for the kitchen, and Snow meets my eyes. ‘I can get rid of it, if you want,’ I say casually.

He hesitates, and then shrugs.

Somewhere under the breakfast bar, there’s a cupboard stacked with plastics. I snatch a wide container. If I wanted to, I could easily send the moth outside with a teleportation spell and be done with it. But using magic in this apartment is like walking through a minefield – one misstep and Simon detonates. (Not like he used to, but that doesn’t mean there’s no collateral damage).

‘I can understand where the fear comes from,’ I say, moving back towards the lamp. ‘They are a bit erratic.’

Snow shrugs again. ‘Yeah.’

‘Too bad humans invented electricity and ruined their flight paths.’

‘I thought light was good for them.’

‘Not artificial light – they need the moon to guide them. They’re quite similar to magickal moths, except those are about three times bigger.’

‘Oh, fuck.’

I can’t help giggling. ‘Relax, Snow. They feed on the dark instead of light, so you’ll only find them in caves and such.’

‘Oh. Right.’ He tugs on a thatch of hair, grinning sheepishly.

I roll my eyes. Simon Snow is an impossible wonder. He used to slay dragons. ‘Come here, you numpty,’ I say, shaking my head.

‘What?’

‘I said, come here.’

I’m standing by the lamp, open container at the ready. Simon’s wings, not quite tucked away, waver in the space around his arms as he inches towards me.

‘Here, look. You have to be gentle.’ I sink the container around the moth and slide the lid underneath. Snow’s got his shoulders all bunched up, and he’s hissing, but the wings of the moth barely flutter as it clambers neatly into the box.

I twist around, and my heart hits my ribcage. Snow’s closer than I realised. He smells like Pringles and dirty laundry, but I can feel his warmth, and I’ve missed it. I’ve missed him. I swallow, holding up the container. ‘Want to see?’ I murmur.

Snow grumbles in his throat before taking the plastic in his fingers. He’s giving the moth one of his move-once-and-I’ll-break-your-neck looks (not that moths have necks). But his wings ease around his shoulders.

‘Why is the body so thick, though?’ he blurts.

‘Crowley, enough with the harassment. The moth has done nothing to deserve this.’

‘It launched itself into my bloody face!’

‘That was your fault, I gather.’

‘It was threatening me.’

‘Well, we’ve trapped it now. If you release it outside, you won’t be intimidated by its thick body ever again.’

‘Fuck off, Baz.’ There’s laughter in his voice as he turns away. He manages to reach the balcony before he hesitates. ‘So I just – what, I just chuck it over the railing?’

I stand at the door and watch him. Dusky wind catches in his curls, and they bounce across his forehead. His eyes are unsure, but his wings cradle his figure. He looks lovely. ‘You’re exactly right,’ I say.

‘But what if it flies back in?’

‘Trust me, it won’t.’

Snow nods, almost trying to convince himself. Then it happens in a rush: he tears off the lid, hurls the moth into the night, scampers off the balcony and shoves the door closed.

I raise an eyebrow.

‘What?’ he wheezes. ‘That was well easy.’

I can hear his blood churning. ‘I didn’t say it wasn’t.’

Snow perches himself on the arm of the sofa, and all the excess tension drains from his shoulders. His eyes fall shut.

When they open, we’re left with something different. An old tension. The kind that sloshes around your ankles and ferments between your toes. I scrape my hair off my face, searching the room for my next words.

Snow beats me to it. ‘Well, the moth’s gone. You should probably go home soon,’ he says. ‘It’s getting kinda late.’

His words dig right between my lungs. I try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at me. ‘Do you want me to?’ I ask.

He swallows.

And because she has a penchant for interrupting serious moments, Bunce gusts into the room like a hurricane and says, ‘Basil, you’re back! Are you staying for dinner? You might as well, I was going to make cheese toasties.’

(Snow suddenly looks interested.)

‘Although I need to finish studying first,’ Bunce goes on. ‘I just wanted to check in, ‘cause I heard some commotion earlier, but I don’t think it registered in my brain until just now.’

‘We’re okay, Bunce.’

‘We got attacked by goblins again.’

Bunce snorts, pushes her fingers up under her glasses and rubs her eyes. ‘Okay. I’m going back under. Don’t hurt yourselves.’

She closes the door when she leaves.

I look at Snow. ‘Does she know about –?’

‘No. Shut up.’

‘Hold on – I’m the first person you’ve told. This is new for you.’

Snow groans sharply and drops back into the sofa. ‘D’you ever get tired of being such a sod?’ he mutters.

‘Of course not. That’s my only desirable trait.’

He scoffs and I sink into the cushions beside him. He’s frowning at the ceiling.

I want to sweep my fingers through his curls. I think he’d let me. ‘Hey. You’re allowed to be frightened of things, you know,’ I murmur, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. ‘Even things that don’t seem frightening. I think it would be somewhat unfair if you weren’t.’

There’s a trail of silence before Simon pushes himself upright. He gnaws on his bottom lip. And then he asks, ‘What are you scared of?’

I turn and gaze at him, all of him. There’s so much of Simon Snow left behind, and yet there’s almost nothing. I know exactly what I’m scared of. I’m drowning in it.

‘Wasps,’ I say.

He huffs out a laugh. ‘That’s fair.’

Our shoulders are touching. I want to touch more of him – his hands, his face, his lips. I’m not sure he’d let me.

Instead, I turn my eyes to the TV. ‘What are you watching?’ I ask.

‘The Fellowship of the Ring,’ he says.

‘Oh, Merlin. What part are you up to?’

‘Gandalf’s trapped in the tower. I think he’s trying to make the eagles come save him – by talking to a fucking moth.’

I snicker. ‘Would you talk to a moth to save me?’ I ask.

‘Nah. Already got wings, haven’t I?’ Simon gives me a half-smile, and he’s always been right here. His ankle knocks gently against mine. ‘I’ll save you myself.’

[soullessfeline-blog]

Flirting with death // AU

Pairing: Zoe/Kayn (Zoyn)

Rated: PG

Source of Characters: League of Legends

A childish yet so old of a goddess planned to go on a disguise. Pretending to be an 18 year old lady, with quite of a short height. Which she doesn't mind at all! It's just like how her real height is as a god anyway. She did all of that just to set foot on worlds. Toying with creatures' lives and homes, ironic isn't it? A goddess supposedly to be doing her business, and not playing tricks with mortals. She is an unguided goddess after all, or should I say hard to be guided? She has a companion- rather a senior, someone older than her that teaches her lessons about being a god and whatnot. Yet she just won't listen, childish as she is. She'd prefer mind games anytime—or just games. Well, she just sees her senior as a mere pet dog. As he takes a form of an ancient dragon.

In this planet called Runeterra, she took a stroll aimlessly. As she stumbles upon... a mortal if she would describe him. Before making any approach, she followed him until he sensed that someone's stalking him.

"You can show your self, lady." The man growled at the hiding goddess.

"You're quite keen, aren't ya?" She giggled and jumped up and down around him.

"Are you perhaps lost little girl? You're on the wrong side of the forest." He asked, looking up and down at the girl, observing her and judged her look.

"Little girl?!" She screeched, kinda pissed by the first impression. "God dangit, I should've improved my height after all." She whispered to herself, not allowing the man in front of her to hear it.

"Excuse me?" He asked for her undivided attention.

She cleared her throat, "that was quite insulting but... ugh, forget it.—I'm not a little girl, just for your information."

The man looked at her intensely, trying to observe more. "I don't know you, I haven't heard of you... that's weird, I'm pretty sure I should-" he stopped himself from mumbling nonsense. "Pardon me, then how old are you? You look like a kid to me."

"I'm a... uhm," she forgot about her desired age, trying to take grasp of her memory. For not much a couple of seconds, the thought hit her. "Eighteen."

"Why were you following me?" He finally pulled out his scythe that was just resting on his back, putting his guard back up.

"Woah, getting aggressive? I just wanted to chat, you're quite interesting looking for a mortal. Bringing a scythe anywhere too huh?" The disguised goddess swung her hair to her back, just a meaningless gesture.

"Mortal?" He asked. "Why are you... emphasizing that? And how can you be sure that I am?"

"Because you are?" Realizing about what she said, she tried to compensate for it. "I mean... haha... a-aren't we all mortals here? I guess I really am weird to call humans- us, a mortal."

He frowned at her, swinging his scythe in front of her, suggesting for her to back off. "I don't have time for such mortals."

"Playing the hard-to-get type? I like it!" The clueless goddess reached out for both of his hands, making him take no hold of his scythe, releasing it unwillingly to the ground. As soon as she got firm grip on his hands, she pulled him into a few steps of dance. The adventurer sure is shocked, it happened so quick that he didn't have any time to react at all. The mischievous lady let go of him as soon as she got to the part of the dance where she isn't much sure of the next step. She was just free styling yet she felt like ending the sudden dance at that moment.

"Are you pulling tricks?" The man accused as he got enraged by her silly actions. She just giggled as a reply. "You're just like flirting with death!"

She stopped from giggling because of that statement, tilting her head a little to the side she gave him a skeptical look.

"Don't you know what I'm capable of? I can easily swing my scythe," and so he grabbed his scythe from the ground. "And cut your head off in an instant! And... and let it fall on the ground just like how you made my scythe fall! I can easily kill anyone who dares to annoy me, and-"

"Hold up mister, are you death? I haven't heard of him or know of what he looks like but... are you?" Suspicions arise from the goddess.

The enraged man's eyes widened, his furious look turned into a nervous one. As if he was caught on an act. "N-no! I'm a mortal! Just like what you said."

"Go ahead and chop my head off then." She dared.

The nervous man wasn't so sure if he'll do just that, trembling as he held his scythe tightly. He let go of the tension soon enough, finally making a decision as to what he should do with her.

"Whatever, I'll let this one slide, just don't ever cross paths with me ever again." He then turned his back and gives her a death glare to scare her off, eventhough he felt threatened; because he was almost caught off his appearance. Still not sure of what this girl really is, but he decided to just go. Although the girl was able to say one more thing before he completely does:

"Sure, can't promise though. Because, just like what you said, I'm just like flirting with death. Name is Zoe by the way. See ya." She fled before him. Sprinting away from the man she just danced with, giggling all to herself as she jumped from tree to trees.

The name Zoe didn't have any ring for the man. He tried to recall if he has known any mortal with that look, an age of 18 years, and Zoe as a name. None, nothing came to hit him. He doesn't know every immortal being either, so it really was of no use to just stand there and think. Instead, he went to his realm to do some research, and look for the name Zoe. By first, looking at the list of names of mortals, and every mortal with the name Zoe.

His scythe finally woken up, not like he was really asleep, he was just pretending to be. Thus, he still knew what happened even if he wasn't really showing any sign of being conscious. "Interested with this girl, Zoe was it?"

"No, Rhaast. I'm just curious... and confused, too. It's weird that I can't recognize such a mortal like her." He said as he flipped through books. “It should be part of my knowledge to be aware or at least be familiar about every living human.”

"Stupid Kayn, then of course she is an immortal, try researching and read about immortals and stop convincing yourself that she is a mere mortal." He insulted his holder.

"It's just kind of impossible, what business could she have here to set foot on Runeterra? This is the first time I have come across another immortal being except for the ones that I had business with, or the ones that actually has business on Runeterra!" Kayn just got over one list, flipping through books and pages. As he continued blabbering. "And I've met all of them. If there are going to be new comers, I should've been given knowledge about it."

"Ugh, therefore, it's still possible. It's not like you know every immortal." Rhaast, the scythe, pointed out, rolling his eyes. "What? Why were you scared and dared to flee just exactly? Is it because she's an immortal or what? You should know she isn't a threat if she really is an immortal like you."

"No... no, no! Just shut up Rhaast, I can't focus!"

"What? Are you panicking now? Just answer the damn question you fool."

"Fine!" Kayn said slamming the book he was just holding onto the table. "It's because she might really be a mortal! I'll be doomed if I'm found out that I am death, by a mere fucking mortal!—Of course unless, she's dead and met me when her time comes."

He wasn't thinking much, he could've just killed her if she really was just a mortal. Yet again if she is an immortal and he caused death upon such person, then he'll be doomed too. It would be too hard to risk either way. But killing an immortal of such high positions can give him worse punishment compared to letting a mortal know his identity. Therefore, he let the girl go.

"Well, it wasn't like I admitted that I really was the god of death but she already suspects it. So I better retreat before the worst is yet to come." He added, Rhaast was fully aware of Kayn's denial not too long ago about being death, but he just have to add that to make sense.

"What was her name again?" Rhaast asked, who just forgot about the said girl's name.

"Zoe." Kayn simply answered.

"Hmm, her age is 18, isn't it? It's probably fake if she's an immortal so, how about... I'm not sure but try looking at the section of the aspect of twilight?" The scythe suggested, not entirely sure of it.

"What? There's a plenty of them? Not that I know any of them though."

By looking into it furthermore, he finally found the one.

"A goddess?!" Kayn, the god of death, exclaimed after finding out her identity. He gave more attention to it, looking for more photos of her. "She looked more human a while ago compared to her pictures here, it really was a disguise! Less flashy hair, not so long and not so... sparkly. Eyes were just both blue, her outfit was more of human's."

"So? Does she look better as a goddess?" His scythe asked, teasing Kayn who is getting flustered by this revelation.

"Oh shut up, Rhaast!"

While in Zoe's realm, she was able to search his name. It was easy as she got a clue on what he is, god of death. Although he did deny about it, she can still see for herself which is the truth. It was just the name that was missing anyway. She just have to find out who the current god of death is. To see if the one she encountered and the current profile of the death will match.

And there you go, the name is there, face and appearance matched. How careless of him not to put any disguise in the human world. She chuckled sweetly on her thoughts.

"He sure doesn't play any games huh? But still, he was able to made that an exquisite experience, unknowingly though." She sighed, releasing all the tension. "He was probably afraid that I may be a mortal and get him in trouble."

Zoe crossed her legs from her seat, looking around her realm, bored again from the usual stuffs. So she distracted herself by thinking back about what happened.

"He does have an admirable job, just like he is! Job: admirable, personality: admirable. I'm digging his braids, too. Quite catchy." She let out a dreamy sigh. "Then I've decided! I'm going to meet him again one of these days! I didn't promise to Kayn after all—that I won't cross paths with him anymore, that is."

"Zoe! Stop slacking off, if you're bored then you still have stuffs to do! Go do your responsibilities-"

"Stop being so whiny, you space doggo!" She yelled back to her senior, standing up from her seat as she stretches. Deciding to obey him, maybe just this once again. Since she has been on a good mood lately.

[the-demelza-robins]

on the rarity of sunshowers (jily)

notes: no matter how hard I try, I always come back to hogwarts!jily...

words: 3.7k

James is jumpier then usual. Lily notices at breakfast; notices how he almost stabs his toast when he tries to butter it, how he catches his snitch twenty-six times in nine minutes, how he says, “Alright, Evans?” on no less than three separate occasions (not that she minds). He fidgets enough that Sirius threatens to expel him to the first years’ seats on the far side of the table, something that causes him to attempt to hold his breath in a bid for stillness until he’s turning blue, and Lily has to resuscitate him with her wand (not that she minds). He runs his fingers through his hair so that it looks even more messy than usual. He asks Lily to Hogsmeade, and when she declines, he says, “Just joking”, and her heart aches. She wants to accept his offer, but she can’t be sure it’s a genuine one. And she must be sure.

The fact is that she has fancied James Potter far too long — a year now, starting in year six all the way up to this rainy day in December — for anything to happen. It’s a cruel twist of fate, the way that their doomed love story worked out. Lily despises it for a number of reasons, the first and foremost being that perhaps the best comeback of her life, when she’d swore she preferred the giant squid to James Potter, was no longer true - in fact, it was a blatant lie, the most opposite of the truth she could get. She would take James Potter over most things, now, including her sister.

Though perhaps that wasn’t saying much, seeing as her sister hadn’t invited her to her wedding. Apparently it had been a simple affair, a quiet wedding on the countryside. Lily could imagine it: Vernon’s new car parked close enough that the guests could still admire it but far enough away that it could melt into the hills, a cake, short vows, a proper bride. Music, but not too much, and a big, white tent with turrets that would blend in with the overcast clouds above.

Yes, Lily could picture it. But that was all she could do, because she hadn’t been invited and, as were the natural progressions of such things, had not attended. What made the situation worse was that, because of Lily’s absence, none of Petunia’s family had been there on her wedding day. Still, Lily reasoned, it was Petunia’s choice.

Petunia blamed Lily for a lot of things, the most important of which being the death of their parents. When the news of their deaths had first broke, Lily had told her sister they’d died in a car accident, and in a way they had, since their car had been blown up by Death Eaters. It had turned into a rather large scandal when Petunia was informed of the truth by way of Snape, who set about destroying Lily’s life once he realized she’d never talk to him again. Petunia had been hurt, but instead of channeling the hurt into anger and the anger into action, like Lily would’ve done, Petunia had spat and stomped and called names that Snape must’ve also taught her, names like mud-

Well. No use thinking about any of that now. Lily turns her attention back to Marlene’s nervous assessment of the weather, the way that her best friend twists with the promise ring she’d received from her Durmstrang boyfriend as she looks up at the enchanted ceiling. “No clouds, just rain, a sunshower…”

Lily wonders why this matters; seeing as they don’t have Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures (it’s a Saturday), there’s no reason for them to go outside. Lily, for one, has been planning on curling up by the fire in the Gryffindor common room and reading The Shining, a muggle book that had been her father’s last gift to her. She finds it quite intense, but on a day like today, with the rain pattering against the window, she thinks it’d be nice to escape to another world, a world where the supernatural only existed in the Overlook Hotel… She let her thoughts drift again, back to her father, who would tell her and Tuney stories before bed until she insisted she’d outgrown them. There had been one, she remembered, that involved dragons, and a little boy who was fighting them, cheered on by people in the clouds. What she’d give to hear one of his stories again…

“Lily! Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”

The world comes back into focus again as Dorcas snaps her fingers in front of Lily’s face repeatedly.

“Of course,” she responds hotly, flinching away from her friend’s fingers. It’s a lie, of course, but she’s been lying a lot lately and now do so without thinking and without giving anything away.

“Then will you please answer my question?”

Across the table, James and Sirius are now debating heatedly. Lupin and Peter are looking on with expressions of mild amusement. Lily wonders what they’re talking about.

“Hello?” Dorcas says. “My question: will you bring the sign for the game, or will I?”

“What game?” Lily asks, and she knows she’s made a mistake as soon as the words have left her mouth. James and Sirius stop their conversation and stare, open-mouthed, at her, something that she hasn’t seen them do in quite a while.

“What game?” James echoes disbelievingly, his snitch buzzing around his head like those birds in the cartoons Lily used to watch when she was younger.

In fact, the snitch is going so fast that watching it is making Lily dizzy, so she closes her eyes for a few seconds and says, “Will you please control your snitch? I’m getting nauseous.”

“Give it to me, mate,” she hears Sirius say, and the sounds of James’s muffled protests bring a smile to her face. They’ve forgotten her slip-up, or at least she thinks they have. For now she’s remembered what she missed, and she can’t believe she’d been that stupid. She opens her eyes and turns to Dorcas. “I’ll bring the sign.”

Her friend nodded, something like relief crossing her face. “Thanks, Lily.”

Marlene, however, doesn’t look as pleased. All nerves from before - Lily realizes why her friend had been nervous, it was because she was Gryffindor’s keeper -  have vanished as she questions her friend. “Why were you zoning out?”

Because James is sitting across from her, and sometimes his knee accidentally touches hers. Because Petunia is still not talking to her, and though Lily is strong enough to handle it, her sister had gotten married for Merlin’s sake and she hadn’t been invited. Because her parents are dead and The Shining is scary and sometimes she just wants to hear her father tell her a story before bed like he used to…

“Just tired,” Lily responds, flashing her friend a quick smile before standing up. “I think I forgot something upstairs. I’ll be back.”

“Quidditch starts in twenty minutes!” Dorcas hollers after her receding form.

“Oh, Merlin, we’d better get going…” James says, and then Lily’s out of earshot and alone with her thoughts. She takes her familiar path up to Gryffindor tower, thankful that everyone else is either at breakfast or on the pitch. She needs time to reset, time to stop the ever-growing lump in her throat before her eyes get watery. It’s happening more and more lately, that terrible feeling that surfaces when Lily thinks about everything, really thinks about it - Petunia, the wedding, Voldemort, her feelings for James - that terrible feeling that summons tears to her eyes almost immediately. At this point, she’s running on fumes, trying to keep up with everything in her personal life, plus schoolwork, plus being Head Girl.

By the time she convinces herself that everything is fine, she’s reached the Fat Lady. With the muttered mention of treacle tarts, the portrait swings open to admit her, and Lily climbs into the common room. Like the rest of the castle, it’s empty save for a few cats curled up on the comfier armchairs, but Lily pays them no mind as she crosses the space and walks up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. She finds the sign that Dorcas had in mind quickly — it was furled on her friend’s bed, its letters flashing red and gold at a speed that was guaranteed to give Lily a migraine — and lets herself stop in front of the mirror on her way out. Her eyes aren’t damp, which is good, and her face isn’t flushed. She shows no outward sign of distress, which she supposes is a point in her favor. It’s taken her a long time to control her feelings (which is a mushy word for those urges she gets to cry all night or yell mindless insults)  — fifth year and below were a time when no one was safe from Lily Evans’ temper — but the war has hardened her, made her less accessible than she ever was.

She hears the cheer of the Quidditch crowd and knows she’s late. Grabbing the sign, she sprints from the dormitories to the common room, from the common room to the portrait hole, from the portrait hole to the entrance hall, and from the entrance hall to the pitch. It’s almost impossible to spot her friends in the sea of red-and-gold clad Gryffindors in the stands, so she resigns herself to sitting alone in the first seat she can find. The sign pulses underneath her cold fingers, and as the paper gets populated with tiny raindrops, she remembers that it’s raining.

“Lily!” She looks over at the sound of her voice to find Dorcas waving at her three rows up. “Come sit with us!”

Lily obliges, and once she’s sat down, she hands the sign to Dorcas, who thrusts it in the air immediately. “You’re seriously out of it today — YES, MARLENE! GO LIONS! —, did you know that?”

“Maybe,” Lily mumbles, her eyes searching the pitch for a certain Chaser. When she can’t find him, she turns back to her friend, conscious of Remus and Peter listening in.

“Can I ask why?” “No.”

Dorcas looks like she’s about to respond, but before she can, the sky rumbles and truly opens up in a way that suggests that the morning’s sunshower was just a prelude to the storm that is about to occur. The Quidditch players seem like nothing more than streaks through the sheets of rain that tumble down, and Lily finds herself soaked to the bone.

“Did you pack an umbrella?” Dorcas asks, looking similarly wet.

Lily shakes her head.

“I did,” a new voice says, and Lily’s surprised to see that Mary Macdonald has been sitting on the other side of Dorcas the whole time. Though Mary is a Gryffindor in their year, Lily has never had a meaningful conversation with her — in fact, Lily thinks she’s talked more with Hufflepuffs —  for she’s a very quiet girl whose nose can most often be found in a book. Besides, Lily had never felt the need to amass more friends; Dorcas and Marlene had always been more than enough, compensating not only for Lily’s lack of friends earlier in life but also for Petunia’s absence, once the sisters’ relationship had reached that point. Lily sometimes felt a little guilty that she didn’t know Mary or Alice Fortescue, the fifth occupant of their dormitory, as well, but comforted herself in the fact that the latter had never been very eager to make friends with her, seeing as her best friend had always been Frank Longbottom.

Now, though, Lily is extremely grateful for Mary Macdonald, especially as she produces a very large umbrella and opens it, shielding the three of them from the rain.

“Thank you,” Dorcas says, and Lily echoes her. She can barely hear Amos Diggory’s commentary over the sound of rain hitting the ground, and she has no idea what the score is. Still, she tries to focus on the game, but as soon as she does so, the players all drift downward and touch the ground.

“What’s going on?”

“Gryffindor’s called a time out, I think,” Mary says so quietly that the sound of the rain almost carries her voice away.

It’s a split-second decision, but one that Lily makes with very little difficulty. She’s tired, tired of everything in her life, but one thing she’s especially tired of is hiding. Hiding her watery eyes and flushed face; hiding her anger with Snape, left over from when he first called her that word; tired of hiding how she much she hurts and aches; tired of hiding how she feels when James Potter’s knee touches hers underneath the crowded breakfast table. She’s tired of it all, and she knows how to alleviate some of the exhaustion.

She stands up, and the rain batters her. The time-out has not yet ended, and now that she’s higher up, she can see the scoreboard: it’s 0-60, Slytherin.

“Where are you going?” Dorcas asks, a look of concern on her face. “You’ll freeze.”

“Down,” Lily replies, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, she races to the pitch, the rain pelting her back as she reaches the muddy field. She can see him now, the way he’s talking to his team, the look on his face suggesting the relentless optimism he’s trying to instill in his teammates.

When she’s ten feet away, he sees her. His mouth stops forming words, and he stares. “Lily?”

“James,” she says, and the whole team is watching her now, maybe even the whole pitch, but it doesn’t feel that way. She notices his misty glasses (it’s a wonder he even saw her coming) and keeps walking towards him. The team breaks their huddle to let her through, their eyes on her wearily, no doubt wondering why she’s so, so close to their captain…

James breathes in deeply — she’s close enough to hear it — and says, “Lily, what are you —”

She lifts her hand and takes off his glasses, and he blinks.

“Impervius”, she whispers (she’s always had a knack for wandless magic, something she’s very proud of), and his lenses clear up immediately.

“It repels water,” she says by way of explanation. She hands the glasses back to him, and he puts them on.

“Right. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Oi! Are we gonna play Quidditch or not?” yells the Seeker for the team (Lily doesn’t remember his name, only that he’s a fourth year and apparently doesn’t care that he’s stopped her from saying something impulsive, like I love you or I’m sorry).

“Please win,” she says instead, and walks off the pitch, feeling James’s eyes on her.

***

The final score is 200-70, Gryffindor, and Lily finds that she’s not quite as annoyed at the Seeker as she was during the time-out. Dorcas peppers her with questions almost as soon as the match is over — “Lily, what did you do to James?” being the most notable one — but Lily ignores her, because that moment felt private, even with countless eyes on them.

Marlene rushes right at them, only pausing at the last second to laugh at how terrified they both look at the sight of her. She’s muddy and grinning, and sweeps them into a hug immediately, covering them in mud and letting the heavy rain immediately clear it from their skin. Dorcas starts to complain about the clothing stains she’ll get from the mud, but Lily can tell that she doesn’t really care.

“Party in the common room!” Marlene almost screams, and Dorcas mutters something about how she’ll be deaf by the time she’s thirty, but Marlene doesn’t care and Lily doesn’t either, for she feels happy for the first time in quite awhile. When the hug finally ends, Lily looks at Marlene again, abandoning all subtlety.

“Has James left the changing rooms yet?”

Marlene smirks. “He was packing up his things when I left.”

“I’ll be back,” Lily replies, leaving Dorcas looking positively scandalized.

***

The walk to the changing rooms takes about a minute and a quarter, but to Lily it feels much longer. She shoulders through the crowd of happy Gryffindors and defeated Slytherins, trying to control her loudly beating heart. She knows that James is still in the changing rooms, knows because she can feel it and also because no overzealous Gryffindors are lifting him triumphantly on their shoulders.

She reaches the door to the structure and knocks twice. It’s opened, almost immediately, by James, his bag swung over his shoulder, broomstick in hand.

As soon as he processes who it is, his smile turns into a frown. “Lils? What are you doing here?”

Lily looks around the room, making sure that they’re alone. When she sees that they are, she closes the door, takes a shuddering breath, and turns to him. “Good job today.”

“Thanks,” he says, dropping his bag and broomstick and sitting on the bench in the middle of the room. “Is something wrong?”

She twists her fingers together. “James, I’ve been wanting to say this for awhile now, and —”

He cuts her off, standing up again bench and moving towards her. He puts his hands on her shoulders and looks right at her, and Oh Merlin, those eyes — “Lily, are you okay?”

“I’m not, but that’s not the point. Ever since sixth year, I’ve —”

“You’re not okay? What’s going on? You have been seeming off lately, I was going to ask —”

“James, would you please just listen to me!”

“Right, er, sorry.” He takes his hands off her shoulders and leans back a little, and Lily misses his closeness.

“Ever since the sixth year — and I know this’ll be hard for you to believe, but, well, here it is — ever since the sixth year I’ve had feelings for you, and at first I thought that they would pass, but it’s been a year, James, and I —”

He closes his eyes. “Lily —”

“James, would you please let me finish, I promise I’ll bugger off after —”

He opens his eyes, adjusts his glasses. “Lily, you don’t understand.” His hands find her waist, and Lily realizes that she’s misinterpreted his response. “Since fifth year,” he whispers, and she feels something opening inside of her, like the sun peaking through the clouds, “since fifth year, Lily, I’ve liked you a lot more than I should admit.”

She looks up at him. They’re so close, in more ways than one; Lily can feel them standing on the edge of something amazing, can feel James’s hands on her back, can feel the way he’s leaning in ever so slightly. “I’m glad we’ve got that settled, then,” she whispers.

He smiles, and then he kisses her. It’s nothing like Lily would have expected, no awkward moment when they’re trying to figure out how to hold each other, where to put their hands — in fact, to Lily’s overloaded and dazzled mind, it’s like they just fit, like they’re picking up from where they left off in a past life. She doesn’t think about this too much, though, because James is pulling her closer and she’s wrapping her arms around his neck and messing with his hair and feeling his smile against her lips, and she’s thinking that maybe they should get more comfortable, because she doesn’t intend on going to that party for a while, not when she and James have just stumbled upon something new and wonderful, not when James is backing her slowly against the wall —

“Oops!”

She jumps away from him and looks towards the door, which has been thrust open by Dorcas and Marlene. By the sound of it, Marlene spoke, now, her eyes find Lily’s, flashing invisible thumbs-up signs.

“Hullo, ladies,” James says evenly, and Lily can’t even imagine what they must look like right now. She finds she doesn’t care, though, because James is here and he’s hers, at least for now.

“Lily, we just wanted to tell you that, erm, we found your necklace in the stands,” Marlene says, holding up a star necklace that Lily’s always been particularly fond of.

“I guess it fell off,” Lily replies lamely, walking further out of James’s vicinity to take it from her friends.

“Well, that’s it…” Dorcas says, clearing her throat.

“Carry on!” Marlene adds loudly, and Lily scowls as they tumble out of the room, slamming the door shut on their way out.

“They’re ridiculous,” she says, pretty sure she’s blushing.

James walks over to her, the corner of his mouth — a mouth that had just been on her mouth, sweet Merlin — quirked up slightly. “We all are, to be honest.”

“Should we go to the party?” As soon as the words leave her mouth, Lily realizes what a stupid thing to say it is.

“Sure,” James says, and his half-smile turns into a grin. “Only if you’ll come as my date, though.”

“You don’t bring dates to common room parties, Potter,” Lily scoffs, trying to contain her own smile.

“Well, Evans, considering I’m captain of the team that just thrashed Slytherin, I think I can do what I want.”

“If you say so.” The smile breaks through, but it’s not like she feels bad about it. He shoulders his broomstick and bag, looks around the room one more time, and takes Lily’s hand.

“Shall we?”

***

Lily is happier than usual. James notices it on the walk back to the castle; notices how she smiles up at the sky, how she squeezes his hand while he talks about the match, how she invites him to go to Hogsmeade with her (“A real date, James, where we go someplace that’s not in the common room”), how she blushes when they walk through the portrait hole, hand in hand, to the sound of wolf-whistling and shouted congratulations — James notices all these things, and hopes that she stays happy. He promises himself that he’ll keep her happy for as long as she’ll have him — this month, maybe, or this year, or (if he’s lucky), the rest of her life.

[sun-and-shadow-aloy]

Favorite Passage

I have done this one once and went with a passage from a Dragon Age story, so @pikapeppa hit me again ;)

This time I am going to share one of my favorite passages from Seeker of the Nora. It was insanely hard to choose just one but this passage shows how deeply two of the men she loves care for her and she for them. (Also, maybe a bit of a nod to Pika, since she was the one that tagged me ;) )

“So, you’re here. Really here. You risked your life.”

Sylens glared at her for a moment. “Of course, I did. If you’d have been killed, the Nora’s Sacred Mountain would have never given up its secrets.”

This man’s cruelty knew no bounds. He had saved her only so he could continue using her. Here she was thinking that maybe he was actually beginning to care what happened to her, but no. She was simply a prize, a weapon, a tool.

“Too bad you wasted your time. Helis destroyed my Focus and the Alpha Registry with it.” She was tempted to turn her Strider away and continue on to the Sacred Lands without his aid. She knew if she ever saw the man face to face, she’d want nothing more than to punch him.

Sylens laughed then, a small one, but enough to turn Aloy’s attention back to him. “Not at all. The whole time I’ve been monitoring your Focus, I’ve duplicated every data file you’ve scanned. Installing that data to a new Focus was trivially easy. ‘Happy birthday, Isaac. Daddy sure does love his little big man.’ He tossed a new Focus to her and she nearly dropped it in her shock.

She hadn’t heard those words in so long. It used to be her favorite find. Amongst all of the data her Focus had collected, it was the first and the one she watched when she wished for a family of her own. Of course, Sylens must have known this. There were little collection ticks anytime a file was opened. It always showed her, her most viewed files first. Among them were favorite pictures of beautiful landscapes, photos of Avad, Erend, and Nil. Audio and video recordings of times long since past and even one of Rost fishing. That was the first time she’d realized she could capture a video log. He’d had no idea what she was doing, so he sat there and took in the gentle breeze and the cool crisp air. It was him in his element.

“You’re really good at making it impossible to like you. But I guess I need this.” She wouldn’t let him know what some of those images meant to her. She placed the device on her ear and felt a calm settle over her as if she had reattached a piece of herself that had been missing for far too long.

Sylens smiled then. “It’s time to see where you were born. Maybe even learn why.”

Aloy’s frustrations with the man piqued again. “Yeah. Meet the machine that birthed me into this world. Isn’t that how you put it?”

He shut down then, turning his strider away from her. “I’ll be off.”

“Wait,” Aloy said suddenly. Not even sure why she was unwilling to let him wander away.

He turned back to her then. “Yes.”

She wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask him. Many thoughts and questions ran through her mind. She was about to ask but then their attention was drawn to the not so far off distance. A cloud of dust rose, signaling an oncoming horde. Aloy froze. Sylens watched in silence. Both of them seemed wary of whoever was coming.

“Shadow Carja,” she asked.

“Not likely. Coming from the wrong direction.”

This eased a bit of her nerves and she pressed on. “Helis recognized you back in the Sun-Ring. You told me that you’d assisted the Eclipse. Not that you knew the men who killed my… who almost killed me.” She had almost said her father, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being able to correct her again. Rost wasn’t her biological father and he knew that. It would be one more thing he could throw in her face.

“So, now you know. The man is a serious threat. So let’s do all we can to make sure he and Hades do not succeed.”

She didn’t know what she expected him to say. Maybe some form of argument or some admission of guilt, but as always she got nothing. She sighed, “Right.”

She knew she would get no further answers from him and the dust cloud was drawing ever closer, making Sylens antsy. It was apparent that he did not want to be seen, even if they had just surmised that these people weren’t likely Shadow Carja.

“I’ll be on my way. To make matters worse, Helis ordered an Eclipse detachment to attack the Nora Sacred Land. The tribe’s already weak. They won’t stand a chance. You should come with me.” She knew a fighter lay under his intellectual façade. He wouldn’t have gotten this far if he weren’t.

He huffed. “Absolutely not. I have preparations to make elsewhere. Besides, it looks like you may have more help than you thought.” He gestured to the crowd of men that still drew closer to their position.

Her eyes still weren’t at their best and she tried to squint through the blazing sunlight to see what Sylens meant, but she couldn’t make out what he was trying to tell her.

Before setting his heels into his Strider he handed over one last gift, Shadow Carja armor. He said it would help her should she need to return to Sunfall or Shadow Carja territory. And then he apologized for being needlessly cruel about who or what her mother may be, telling her he did hope it was a who, not a what. That lifted her spirits somewhat, but not as much as the next thing she caught sight of.

Avad’s banner, along with the banner of the Vanguard swung proudly in the hands of the men coming toward her. And at the head of these men, two figures sprinted toward her. One was bulky and in heavy armor. He couldn’t quite keep up with the man ahead of him but he pushed just as hard.

Aloy jumped from her seat on the Strider. Tears sprang to her eyes as the sun’s gleam caught on the white of the Carja armor, made the red feathers glisten. She never thought she would be so happy to see that stupid headdress. He was alive! And he had brought the whole of the Vanguard with him, Erend included.

She raced forward. The tears made her swollen eyes ache but she didn’t care. She needed to touch him, to make sure the Sun wasn’t playing tricks on her. She needed to hold him, to kiss those thick lips and to know he was real. After her battle with the Behemoth, her legs ached, but she pushed through. She would make it to him, even if she collapsed into his arms.

As they closed the distance to each other, Aloy was rewarded with one thing she thought she’d never see. Nil was smiling. A genuine ear-to-ear smile. The last few days must have been just as hard on him as they were on her. To see emotions from him in any capacity was more than she had anticipated and made fresh tears bubble to the surface.

When she was close enough she leapt into his arms. She didn’t know she had the strength left, but somehow she made it and neither of them could help the laughs that sprang from them as they collided. Nil swung her around and buried his face in her neck as she wrapped her arms around him.

“I love you, Aloy. I love you.” He kept repeating the words like a mantra.

Aloy began to believe she would never stop crying. Her heart felt lighter than it had in a very long time, but they continued to spill down her face. With each new revelation the moment brought, it was like a wall was broken letting the rains pour and wash away all of the hurt and pain of the last few months. Hell, the last few days. Neither one of them had been certain that the other had survived. She knew he had made it out of the room before Helis’ bomb went off, but nothing past that. He must have thought the same when he heard the explosion behind him.

When he put her down, she pulled him into a deep kiss. Her heart exploded. She couldn’t contain how she felt about him any more than he could. “I love you, too. Everything about you.”

The moment was broken, but in no way ruined by the sound of someone else coming up behind them. She turned to the sound and opened her arms. Erend pulled her into a tight hug and the tears started anew.

“Fire and spit, Aloy. You have got to stop doing this to me. This is the second time I thought you may be dead.”

He squeezed her so tight that his armor started to hurt but she didn’t care. He was here. She had her rock to see her through this next phase. She had the Vanguard at her back. She had Nil. She might be able to give the Eclipse a real fight.

I believe I have tagged everyone already, so if you are reading this and haven't been tagged yet... consider yourself tagged.

[deans-missing-pie]

DimensionV Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Welcome To Dimension V.

Their silence is quickly broken as Kasumi pulls him to a strange virtual coffee shop.

“So, what do ya think?” Matt hesitates as Kasumi stares giddily into his eyes, bubbles now surrounding their booth as Kasumi clings to his arm, smiling up at him.

“Hey Kasumi~” A voice sings from the front of the shop and sprints to sit down with them, sliding across the leather seats. “Who's this darling Kasumi? A friend?” She stares at The Blue-Eyed Angel, slightly blushing at his figure. Kasumi chuckles as she gives her response.

“Hehe, Its Matt Ikari.” She jumps in shock.

“M...Matt!!!” She looks away proudly. “So, you're finally here. That's good.” The bubbles pop around them as Kasumi spaces out, staring into Matt's eyes.

“K... Kasumi?” Ikari taps her shoulder, making her jump. She quickly finishes her soda and leaves a small amount of cash on the table, pulling Matt out of the cafe.

“Come on Matt, keep up” She exclaims as she sprints ahead. “I want to show you some of the BEST places in the area” Matt chuckled as she speeds ahead of him.

“Is she always like this here Ikari?” Matt questioned as Kasumi spun and jumped around in the distance.

“Not always, mainly when she's talking about you or when she finds a new place to visit.” He chuckles at Ikari's confident response as she holds her head high.

Matt chuckles as he and Ikari run to catch up with Kasumi, a short figure following curiously behind.

Their surroundings turn dark as the sun of 1's and 0's sets behind a large building, Kasumi grab Matt's hand and starts to walk with him, this wasn't the first time. Ikari chuckled lightly, muttering to herself.

“Must be nice having a friend stay with you for so long”

Matt loses grip of Kasumi's hand as an unfamiliar hand grabs his shoulder, another smashing into his face.

“Stay away from Kasumi you creep!!!” Another familiar voice...

“N... Nishida?” He feels another crack around the head

“How do you know me? PERVERT!! STALKER!!!” Nishida exclaims as many people stop and stare around them, Kasumi laughing it off.

“haha, look closer. Its Matt.” Nishida looks away in shock, apologising as Kasumi jumps on top of her, the crowd separating through the surrounding area.

“K... Kaaaasumiiii. You're embarrassing me.” Kasumi slides off her back as she runs back to Matt, Nishida reluctantly following the rest of the group towards a large server-like object.

“And this is--” Kasumi hesitates, Ikari takes over.

“The Banlist, everyone who has been taken here has never seen their avatar again.” She hesitates for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Everyone here follows the laws closely. No one wants to be sent to this tower, they say it’s impossible to escape. Your avatar deleted.”

Matt waits a moment to take in the information and follows it closely.

“So, it's where data of everyone's avatar is kept?” Matt asks as Kasumi jumps back up, jolly as ever.

“Close, it's where all avatars are born and killed, a factory and an execution chamber, and the only place of law” Matt and Kasumi stare up at the tower as it seemingly grows taller as winged avatars fly in and around it, including a mixture of demon, succubus, incubus and dragon type avatars showing high authority.

Ikari suddenly continues, breaking the two's silence once again. “Consisting of 100-150 different rooms spanning across its 50 floors, an inescapable maze of tripwires and boulders, similar to the ancient Egyptian tomb traps of the late 1800's. This tower is designed to keep everything in and everything else out.” She begins to shiver, Kasumi catching her as her legs give way. Ikari chuckles as Kasumi races towards her, Matt and Nishida following just as quickly, Ikari's avatar becoming slightly transparent as she is caught. “I... I’ll be fine…” Her hand covering her temples as Kasumi pulls a bottle of water from her bag she had earlier bought at the cafe. Ikari instantly chugs it, leaving nothing but a crushed plastic bottle as her avatar regains its visibility. As Matt and Kasumi jump on top of her joyfully, Nishida scoffs at their affection and turns away pouting.

“I don't understand why you idiots were so worried about her. This has been going on for the past month!” Kasumi and Ikari stare shocked into her eyes as she blushed slightly in Matt's direction and begins walking off.

“Nishida! Wait for us!” Ikari jumps up, slightly losing balance, again being caught by Kasumi as she sprints towards Nishida, grabbing her waist, pulling her newly-bought figurine out of her small tender hands.

“I've had just about enough of your tone towards me, just who do you think you are!?” Ikari begins to scream at her, taking out as much anger as humanly possible. “Your stupid little brain couldn't comprehend the seriousness of my condition!!” Nishida begins to tear up, shouting back

“Don't be stupid! I've tried and tried to help you through this, but...” she now begins to cry “You just haven't gotten any better. It seems the more we try helping you, the worse it gets!!” Nishida completely breaks down into tears as Kasumi runs over to the two of them forming a few bubbles between them, allowing her to comfort Ikari as Nishida slowly calms down, grasping the figure's box and throwing it in her bag. Nishida suddenly sprints towards a wall and begins to mutter to herself with feelings of upmost self-hatred. “Idiot, Idiot, Idiot.” Matt quickly runs towards her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Not knowing what to do, having never being in this sort of situation, Nishida quickly wraps her hands around his legs as she begins crying into them as Matt stood there in shock, softly gliding his fingers through her soft hair. BAM! Matt suddenly falls as she looks up, realising that the person standing next to her wasn't who she thought it was. Matt immediately hits the floor, his avatar quickly getting back up to see Nishida blushing at him, completely shocked Matt of all people came to help her.

[theavengerfairy]

One Step Closer - Chapter 1

Previously known as “Gravity”

Callum had been right. Rayla would never tell him that, but he had been right. Apparently one does not simply walk into Xadia, at least not near the part of the border where Sol Regem dwelled in order to guard the Moonstone Path. Stupid dragons; they thought of everything.

Despite the abundance of monstrous oaks and pines guarding the private alcove she had discovered about an hour before, a cool breeze still managed to caress her skin and ruffle her hair as she sat cross-legged amongst the untamed grass, absentmindedly flicking one of her swords open and closed over and over again as she struggled to produce a feasible solution to her current predicament. Aside from the Moonstone Path, all other ground entrances into Xadia would be heavily guarded on both sides of the border, and crossing over by sea was not an option for more reasons than just her personal phobia. Yep, they were definitely stuck.

"Runaan would know what to do. He always knew what to do."

Rayla's heart clenched painfully in her chest, rousing her guilt from its sound hibernation and sending it scrambling back to its good work of turning her stomach into a hot, nauseous whirlpool. Runaan. Sure, his name had briefly passed through her mind on occasion over the past few weeks, but she had never actually taken a moment to pause and truly think about him ever since her mission to return the Dragon Prince and hopefully stop the war between humans and Xadians began. What had happened to her mentor and the rest of their party that night? Yes, she had seen his shadowhawk arrow sailing through the air and one of her wrist bindings had fallen off, indicating that the king had been successfully assassinated, but that only told her so much. Were they alright? Had they been captured? Had they perished as well?

"You let him live but you've killed us all!"

Rayla sharply shook her head to clear away those jarring words. They had to be okay. It didn't matter if it was impossible; Runaan wouldn't have let anything happen to them. They were probably on their way back to Xadia right now.

"And they are all probably permanently disabled because of you."

No, she couldn't think about that. Optimism may seem just as trivial as fear to her, but at the moment it was all she had. Besides, she didn't have time to dwindle on her comrades' fates; she had her own mission to focus on, which brought her back to her original dilemma. How in the name of Thunder was she going to get her, Callum, and Zym into Xadia undetected?

A wistful sigh escaped Rayla's lips as she returned her blades to her belt and rested her cheek in the palm of her hand while absently staring at the patch of dirt and grass directly in front of her, "I know you would probably still be mad at me, but I really wish you were here, Runaan. I'm out of my element and out of ideas, and the pressure of knowing that I'm in charge of protecting and delivering the one thing that could potentially end the war between humans and Xadia ain't exactly helping me get a creative spark. You would be way more qualified for something like this, and yet this responsibility fell to me....I just don't know how I'm gonna do this...."

"Gah! Rayla!"

Rayla nearly jumped out of her skin and instinctively went for her knives before quickly stopping when she remembered who that voice belonged to.

"Ugh, don't startle me like that! I just about attacked you!" she snapped angrily at Callum, though she was surprised and secretly somewhat impressed that he had managed to sneak up on her without the brush giving him away.

"Well, thank you for not attacking me," Callum answered rather awkwardly, his posture unusually rigid as he anxiously scratched the back of his neck, "So, who were you talking to?"

Hot embarrassment rushed into Rayla's cheeks, dyeing her fair skin the color of ripe moonberries, and she instinctively averted her eyes from Callum as if that would somehow hide her shame.

"Nobody," she mumbled, "I was just thinking out loud is all."

Callum's brow crinkled with concern, his hand falling back to his side as he took a few steps towards her, "Are you okay? You seem upset."

"I'm fine. I'm just...irritated because I can't think of any other way to get us into Xadia."

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself; I know you'll figure something out." Callum purred gently as he deposited himself down beside her and comfortingly grasped her shoulder, his mouth curving upwards in an encouraging grin. However, Rayla's grim expression did not change.

"I wish Runaan were here," she sighed again.

"Runaan? Wait, he was the archer you fought with on the castle wall, right? Is he your brother or something?"

Rayla's face contorted into a look of pure offense. "What? No! How old do you think I am?!"

A larger-than-average bead of sweat slithered down Callum temple, "I'm not going to answer that. Who is he though? You two seemed like you knew each other a little better than just fellow assassins."

"Runaan is my mentor. He taught me everything I know."

"Oh."

Rayla sighed again. "He should be the one leading you into Xadia not me. He has way more experience and training and knowledge than I do, and yet, you got stuck with me instead."

"Well, I'm glad to have gotten stuck with you, Rayla," Callum retorted gently before quickly adding, "and not just because your mentor probably would've killed me by now and taken Zym back to Xadia by himself."

The quiet, undignified snort that echoed from Rayla as her mouth curved into a smirk made Callum's chest swell with a little pride and brought a smile to his face.

"Thanks," she answered, her posture relaxing slightly. However, her muscles went stiff again only a moment later and her eyes grew wider than full moons as she stared at Callum like she had never seen him before, "Wait, Callum, what are you doing here?! Why aren't you watching Zym?!"

Callum's skin turned paler than porcelain as he nervously wrung his hands, his eyes darting to look at anything and everything in the clearing other than Rayla, "Heh, funny you should mention that...."

All of the previous delight and warmth had now vanished from Rayla's face, and in its place lurked an icy shadow that sent shivers down Callum's spine.

"Callum, what's going on?"

"Well, you see...."

———————

"I can't believe you lost the future King of the Dragons! What were you thinking?!"

"He seemed bored, and I remembered Ezran saying he really liked hide and seek!"

"And you thought that was a good idea for a game?! You know, there's this thing inside your head called a brain; you should try using it."

"...You're really mean sometimes, you know that? Besides, it's not like babysitting a dragon is easy!"

"Ezran managed to do it!"

"Well, that's because he had his special gift! I don't speak animal!" Callum grumbled before quickly ducking to avoid being hit in the face by a branch.

The temptation to continue to berate Callum was strong, but after rolling of her eyes in annoyance, Rayla managed to swallow the urge and instead focus her attention on the task at hand, "Just keep looking. He has to have left some kind of trail."

"Unless he flew..." Callum began to argue but his voice broke off when he noticed Rayla glaring at him, "Sorry."

Clenching her jaw, Rayla pushed past a cluster of brush and entered another clearing, and to her frustration, there was still no sign of the baby dragon.

"If you know any kind up special, Sky magic tracking spell, now would be a great time to whip it out," she grunted as she brought her fingers to massage the bridge of her nose in an effort to fend off her impending headache.

One of Callum's eyebrows rose in a skeptical arch, "Was that supposed to be sarcasm or a genuine suggestion? I couldn't really tell."

Exasperation was his answer as Rayla flung her arms up in defeat.

"Who are we kidding? We're screwed!" she cried dramatically as her hands fell back to her sides, her shoulders slumping forward as though heavy weights had been tied to her wrists, "There's no way we're going to find one tiny dragon in this massive forest-"

An ear-piercing screech drowned out of the last of Rayla's words and sent her and Callum both springing into the air. Immediately, their eyes snapped to look at one another, their faces both conveying the exact same fear, and so much as a single second of further hesitation, they darted in the direction from which the voice had come. They ran as fast as they could, Rayla easily taking the lead ahead of Callum as he struggled to keep up, but with every step they took, the forest seemed to throw some stumbling block into their path, whether it be a fallen tree, a gnarled tangle of roots, or a tightly woven thicket of thorns, to slow them down. Still, they pressed onwards, barely aware the sting of branches slapping their arms and faces or the ache of their feet as they stumbled on the uneven forest floor as they raced at a pace that never dipped below a steady sprint. Each of them silently hoped that their shared hunch was wrong but knew full well that the likelihood of such a blessing was slim, and as they rounded a sharp outcropping of rock, the gurgling of water tickling their ears, their hearts and stomachs somersaulted over one another as their eyes beheld exactly what they had feared.

Several yards ahead of them sat a human girl who looked as though she was probably a few years older than Ezran, the sunlight catching on her fiery twin braids as she tranquility lounged with her legs dangling in the cool water of a lazy, crystal clear stream, entirely oblivious of the little imp of a dragon slowly creeping up on her through the grass, tail flicking slowly back and forth as he hunkered down and prepared to pounce. The air caught in Rayla's and Callum's throats as they silently pleaded that Zym would miraculously decide to back down and scamper off before he was noticed, but with a final cocky trill, the baby dragon flung himself into the air and hurdled towards the human.

Rayla nearly screamed, not because of Zym but rather what happened next. When the baby dragon was a mere arm's length arm, the human girl suddenly whipped around and caught him with a speed and ease that startled Callum and Rayla both as they watched, their stomachs sinking further into the sandy pit of horror that had manifested inside each of them. A wicked grin stretched across the redhead's face as she raised Zym high above her head, the dragon squirming and squeaking in protest while his wide, innocent eyes peered down at her. A disorienting lightness filled Rayla's head, leading her to grab onto Callum's scarf to steady herself as she struggled not to faint, and Callum consequently reached out to steady her partially out of concern and partially to stop her from choking him.

"This is bad. This is really, really bad," Rayla moaned woefully.

"Hey, we can't automatically jump to the worst conclusion." Callum peered scrutinizingly at the girl before continued, "She doesn't look scared. Maybe she thinks Zym is just a giant lizard."

"Callum, he has wings! What other reptile do you know of that has wings?!"

"...Yeah, you're right. This is bad."

The ginger had since lowered Zym down to where he was now eye to eye with her, and after an uncomfortable period of silence that left Rayla's skin crawling, the baby dragon gave a giddy chirp and began to playfully lick the girl's freckled cheeks, causing her to giggle.

"You're going to have to do better than that if you want to sneak up on me." she taunted buoyantly, her warm chocolate eyes gleaming as her nose brushed lightly against Zym's, "You're much too noisy and your static made the hairs on my neck and arms stand straight up as soon as you got close. You definitely need to work on that."

Zym merely sang another adorable coo and then resumed licking her face, the girl hardly even flinching as energy sparkled across his tongue and zapped her skin, not that the shocks were even remotely painful to begin with. The tension released from Callum's shoulders as her laughter danced in his ears, but Rayla remained completely rigid, her eyes fixed on the girl in a cold, merciless stare.

"She seems pretty nice. Maybe she won't give us any trouble." the former remarked optimistically, much to the aghast of the latter.

"How could you possibly know whether or not she's nice just by looking at her, Callum?! Didn't Lujanne lecture you that moon magic revolves around the difference between perception and reality?! For all we know, that seemingly innocent human girl could be the acolyte of a dark mage who is merely keeping Zym occupied while she awaits her master's return."

"Or, she could really be just a normal human girl with no dark motives or ill intentions. You can't always just assume the worst about people, Rayla."

"You can't afford to always think the best of them either, especially not in a war."

"Well, what do you suggest we do then? She's already seen Zym; there's not much we can do about that."

Rayla's expression darkened, "We've only got a few options, and you're not going to like any of them."

"Why would you tell me that?! I mean, if you already know I won't like them in the first place then what is the point of telling me about the options at all-Rayla?"

Callum's throat tightened when he realized his friend was no longer beside him. Normally, he found her stealth and skill admirable and rather fascinating, but at the moment, he was more irked and frightened by it.

"Rayla? Rayla?! Rayla!"

"Stay where you are!"

Callum immediately froze where he stood before slowly sneaking a glance over his shoulder to see the redheaded girl standing behind him, her once gleeful face now warped into a suspicious scowl as she pointed her hand at him. At first, the prince was confused, but he soon noticed with a sinking feeling that the girl had some kind of contraption strapped to her wrist. The device closely resembled the crossbows he had seen used by many of the palace guards but on a much smaller scale, and one sweeping, inquisitive glance indicated to him that it was likely rigged to fire when girl clenched her hand into a fist. Okay, maybe Rayla had been right about the girl not being as innocent and sweet as she seemed.

Swallowing thickly to clear away the glow toad-sized lump in his throat, Callum timidly twirled around to face the ginger, hands raised high in the air, and offered her a nervous smile, "Uh, hi?"

At the sound of Callum's voice, Zym's head perked up, and with a happy trill, he popped out from behind the girl and scampered toward the prince, his little mouth stretched into as wide of a grin as he could manage while his tongue stuck goofily out to one side. Momentarily forgetting his terror, Callum dropped down onto his knees and seized Zym into a tight hug as soon as he was within reach, remaining completely oblivious to the incredulous look the redhead was giving him as he cradled the dragonling close.

"Zym! You scared me! No more hide and seek for you, you hear? From now on, we're only playing games that include my eyes being on you at all times!"

The baby dragon whimpered in protest, his head drooping guiltily between his shoulders, but after a moment, he yipped softly in what one could assume was understanding and snuggled himself deeper into Callum's embrace.

"So he isn't alone out here. I guess that should be a relief."

Callum's heart staggered in its beat for a moment, sending a cold shock along every nerve in his body. He had nearly forgotten that he and Zym had an audience.

"Y-Yep, the little goofball is with me! I turned my back on him for a second and he decided to go and explore. T-Thank you for looking after him, Miss....?"

"Madeleine," The girl answered, a small smile forming on her lips as she lowered her weapon. However, her eyes did not lose their inquisitive sparkle, and the look made Callum's insides churn.

"Well, thanks again, but we really should be going now-"

"You haven't told me your name though."

"Oh....uh....it's Callum."

"Callum," the girl purred, testing the way the name rolled on her tongue, "That isn't a very common name, is it?"

"Uh, I guess?"

"I like it. So Callum, what's a baby dragon doing on this side of the border?"

Although the question was asked in the most innocent of tones, it sent the prince's mind scrambling in a wild panic, and before he could regain enough sense to stop himself, he blurted out what possibly had to be one of the stupidest and most unconvincing lies he had ever told.

"Dragon? You mean Zym? Pfft, Zym isn't a dragon!"

"He isn't?"

"No!"

"Oh....what is he then?"

"Well that totally just backfired." the prince mentally chastised himself, "Come on, Callum! Think!"

"He's uh....a draconis....imitatius!"

Madeleine's brow scrunched into a row of wrinkles, "A what?"

"A draconis imitatius! They're called draconims for short!"

"I've never heard of them."

"They're really rare and most people confuse them for dragonlings like you did, so they aren't very well known."

"I guess that makes sense...."

"It totally makes sense!"

"What's the difference between a draconim and an actual dragon, though?"

By now, a thick coating of sweat had totally soaked the hairs on the back of Callum's neck. "You ask of a lot of questions, don't you?"

The girl's cheeks ignited in a rosy blush that rivaled the radiance of her hair, sparking instant regret in Callum that he yearned to snuff out by doing some kind self-inflicted sacrament like slapping himself across the face.

"Sorry, I can get a little nosy sometimes. I should really learn when to shut my mouth."

"No no, it's okay! It's totally normal to be curious about something rare and unique. You didn't do anything wrong!" Callum hurriedly tried to reassure her.

"You look kind of uncomfortable though."

"I do? I guess I'm still coming off the adrenaline rush Zym gave me. I'm so glad he's alright."

"Ah, got it. So back to my original question, what makes a draconim different from a dragon."

"Well...they stay small like this and....they can't actually fly even though they have wings."

"Really?"

"Y-Yep. Kinda sad, isn't it? He has those big wings and he can't even use them..."

It was at that moment that the largest butterfly Callum had ever seen just had to flit past, catching not only his eye but the eye of Zym as well. With an excited shriek, he unfurled his wings and soared after it with a mighty flap, missing it by mere centimeters before sailing back down to the ground with surprising grace. Madeleine's jaw fell agape while Callum's throat swelled shut.

"Did he just-?"

"T-That wasn't flying! That was...gliding! There's a big difference."

Callum could practically see the gears turning in Madeleine's head as she stared scrutinizingly at Zym, but before she could say another word, a dark shadow suddenly passed over them. A collective shriek of surprise from Callum, Zym, and Madeleine cut across the clearing as Rayla appeared seemingly out of thin air and tackled the girl to the ground, her blades already scraping against the skin of Madeleine's throat as she pinned her arms down with her knees.

"Rayla, what are you doing?! Where did you even go?!" Callum exclaimed in horror, his eyes bouncing frantically back and forth between the obviously irritated elf and the frightened human innocent underneath her.

"I was trying to find a good angle from which I could catch her by surprise and knock her out, but then just had to get in the way!" Rayla spat back sourly, "And as if our situation wasn't already bad enough, you just had to go and make it worse with your babbling! Why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut?!"

"I was nervous and you had totally disappeared! What was I supposed to do?! Knock her out with a wind spell?!"

"Yes! That's exactly what you should have done!"

"Well, why didn't you jump in earlier and stop me?!"

"Then the other human would've known I was here!"

"You...You're a Moonshadow elf..." Madeleine muttered in disbelief.

"Well, she knows now!" Callum griped, "What do we do-No wait, you said I wouldn't like the options!"

"Callum, would you quit being so dramatic for a second!"

"I'm not being dramatic; I'm panicking! There's a very big difference! What do we do?!"

"Could you please just shut up for a second so I can think?!"

"Madeleine!"

The new voice caught both Rayla and Callum by surprise, but before they could scan for the one to whom it belonged, a ear-piercing, bloodcurdling scream tore through the air and ripped into their heads, threatening to tear their minds into unsalvageable shreds.