#anyway amaya is feeling off but since i keep changing anyway i might as well keep it as a name i accept ppl to call me

[gerbiloftriumph]

Lost and Found (ao3):

Grandpa’s story of the goblin caves started out familiarly enough, but as he spoke, the story started to twist and change. New friends, new conversations, and new ways to use old items transformed the tale, and the young king discovered new ways to be brave in the dark tunnels beneath Daventry.

~*~

An attempt to reinsert the cut lines from the subtitle file. Ch2 has a ton of cut content, and a lot of the lost dialogue is grand, but currently the only way to read it is in a contextless, barely legible slurry in the game files. I’m reconstituting it and fluffing it up and out to make it more accessible.

(3/?)

“Oooh, it has been a while since we went adventuring together!” Whisper said, delighted. “What was the last one we did, do you remember? Was it fetching the rare and miraculous golden fleece of Llewdor?”

“That wasn’t actually gold,” Graham said. “The paint flaked off when you touched it.”

“Yes, but the daring deed, that’s what was important! Those acrobatic leaps through those crumbling sun cult ruins, remember? You got all tangled up in those vines.”

“Acorn had to carry me out; I was so stuck,” Graham said.

“You were shooting arrows over his shoulder!”

“Oh, yeah! That was fun.” He paused. “Well, except for the almost getting caught by cultists and dying in a horrible sacrificial ritual part. But other than that!”

“So, what’s this adventure about?”

“Honestly, it doesn’t feel like an adventure,” Graham said. “We’ve all been kidnapped by goblins, and I can’t seem to figure out why.”

“Whisper thinks that’s pretty obvious.” Whisper flicked an armored finger at the crown, which made it ring like a bell.

“Yeah, maybe,” Graham said, grabbing the crown to muffle it, “but I don’t think it’s just a ransom. Why take everyone else, then? This hat’s what’s important, but I can’t figure out why Wente would get dragged into it, or Amaya, or even you.”

“Whisper is incredibly valuable.”

“Okay, sure, but have you ever heard of a goblin wanting money? Maybe if you tell me what you were doing, it’ll help.”

“Doing? Nothing much. Acorn and Whisper were seeking flowers!”

“Knights? Gathering flowers?” Graham smiled.

“Well, someone has to do it!” Whisper agreed. “Here, these!” He fished in his armor and withdrew a little handful of delicate petals. “They’re lovely, aren’t they, nearly as lovely as the lovely Miss Amaya,” he said, handing them to Graham to inspect. “But that’s all we were doing, gathering flowers in the forest. We walked into an ambush, like they were waiting for us, but Whisper is sorry to say he has no additional information than that.”

“Hmm. Nothing else?”

“Nothing.”

 Graham sighed. “Well. Doesn’t matter anyway, not yet. I need a plan to get us out of here first.”

“This might be the only time Whisper’ll say this…but don’t look at me. You’ll have to figure it out.”

“Thanks, Whisper.”

“Oh, whatever happened to your silly squirrel pig?”

“You mean Triumph? He’s in the castle stables, of course.” And wouldn’t Graham love to be up there with him, with his whole face pressed into Triumph’s belly fluff, warm and soft and sweet.

“You never did answer Whisper’s message about a rematch.”

From above, a disapproving voice echoed around the caves: “Whisper.”

“Oh. Acorn.”

The two knights eyed each other, a little coolly, Acorn clinging to the edge of his Jack and the Beanstalk ledge, Whisper leaning so far back he staggered a bit.

“Kidnapped by goblins?” Whisper asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“Also."

“We’re not very good knights, are we,” Acorn said, sighing heavily.

“Speak for yourself!” Whisper said, posing.

“What if I got on your shoulders, Whisper?” Graham said. “Like Kyle and Larry. Maybe I could reach that ledge, then, and pull myself up.”

“What good would that do me?” Acorn demanded. “You just want a ride.”

“No! …well, maybe a little bit.”

“You keep looking for something else, Your Majesty,” Acorn grumbled. “Oh, duck.” The duck with the golden paint pecked hard at his helmet. He flapped a hand at it. It fluttered up, then perched back in place on his head.

*~*~*

Graham and Whisper explored the caves together, ducking out of sight when they saw goblins. They were fairly certain that, even though Graham had vague permission to be out so long as he was doing chores, no one else had been granted such freedoms. Once, he kicked Whisper behind a rock and stood in front of him, frantically sweeping with his little broom and dustpan. Whisper started sneezing as soon as the goblins were past, but they managed to avoid capture.

They came across the main prison doors. Graham remembered being pushed through them upon his arrival here, doors that should lead out into the crooked lines of the goblin city, to the weird river and the weirder raft and the sweet fresh air of Daventry beyond. But while they both pushed hard against the levers and shoved at the doors with their combined strength, they couldn’t shift it.

“I need another key,” Graham muttered, tracing the lock. “Every door is locked here.”

“It is a prison, Graham.”

“You don’t have to remind me.” That key had better be accessible somewhere in the prison, or this would be one short escape attempt.

They walked back, fully intending to keep exploring, when they were startled by a goblin with a spear. Graham panicked, springing backward, slamming into Whisper. On some ridiculous instinct, without even thinking, Graham grabbed his cloak and swirled it down over the knight, like he was going to hide him under a tarp—and popped Whisper into his pocket.

The goblin wandered on, apparently not having noticed, while Graham staggered back against the wall, without Whisper in the way to stop him.

“What—I didn’t know it could do that!” He stared at his own cloak. He could sense the weight, could feel the pockets straining, but—

He tipped his cloak, and Whisper poured out, sprawled on the floor. “What?”

“I mean. My mother designed my cloak with extra pockets,” Graham babbled.

“And an extra pocket dimension, too, apparently.”

“She’s a really good seamstress?”

“Magically talented, one might say. Does she order her fabric from the Hobblepots?” Whisper sat up. “Would she take commissions? Imagine the portraits Whisper could fit in there! No, the entourage! My fans could always be with me in person, not just in spirit! Imagine! The fan club will be so excited!”

“What was it like in there?”

“Red.”

“And I’ve just been using it as a blanket,” Graham said, swirling it. “That’s way safer than us walking around in the open! You could totally come with me and not be seen!” He paused. “Oh, but wait, at night. Uh. You can’t stay with me at night.”

“Why not?”

Graham hesitated. “So, I’m probably not supposed to be out here, even to do chores. At night, the goblins do a shakedown to make sure I’m not carrying anything I’m not supposed to be. I think you’d be something I’m not supposed to be carrying.”

“Oh, just a shakedown, Whisper’s sure they wouldn’t notice—”

“No, literally. They grab me and flip me upside down and shake ‘til everything’s fallen out of my pockets.” Graham loosened his bracer and pushed back his sleeve to show off fingerprint shaped bruises. “It’s. Not actually avoidable.”

“…oh.” For once, Graham wished Whisper wasn’t wearing his helmet—he wanted to see the knight’s expression, to see what he was thinking, but this time the mask was properly a mask, keeping Whisper’s thoughts to himself. “Not a long term solution, then.” His voice had that sort of forced cheeriness that made Graham wince.

“We’ll find somewhere safe for you to hide before the day ends,” Graham promised. “But for now. Back in there.” This had potential, this pocket thing, but he had to be careful not to rush in situations and make mistakes that would end up with everyone in a lot worse danger than they’d started in. Especially with the forced shakedowns threatening him every night. For now, he’d take it just as slow and carefully as he’d been. For now.

~*~*~

Graham explored the space by himself for a while, Whisper a comforting weight in his pocket. The knight didn’t seem able to speak to him while he was in there, and Graham thought probably he had fallen asleep. Graham found goblins reenacting old fairytales—the frog prince, the princess and the pea. He was able to procure a little pile of things, from frogs to flies, and managed to get his hands on what was supposed to be weed killer, but was more like weed grower, which he used on Acorn’s broken ladder, though it wouldn’t do much good til the next day.

And then, a familiar face. A face that probably belonged behind bars at the best of times, but which probably didn’t deserve to be down here, nevertheless. “Heeeeey, boy!”

“Merchant?”

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!” He reached between the bars and grabbed Graham’s cloak, dragging him closer, squeezing his cheeks with unabashed delight. “Yep, that’s one lanky adventurer, here in the flesh! And with a sparkly new hat! It ain’t a patch on my turban, but hey, still looks nice!” He snatched at the crown and examined the gems inset in it with a practiced eye, picking at them with his thumb to see how loose they were. When they proved solidly placed, he slammed the crown back on Graham’s head. “Can’t hardly believe it, wait til I tell Mr. Fancycakes I’ve got a king shopping my wares. If I ever see him again, ‘course. Either way, Merchant of Miracles can definitely put royal patronage on the front sign now! That’ll be good for business. What business I can get these days, anyway.”

“What are you doing here?” Graham looked around. It was a fairly large cell, well lit and fairly comfortable. But still a cell, with the same heavy wooden bars blocking him from the rest of the villagers. The merchant’s cart was somehow smashed into the same space he was, though even from here Graham could see most of the boxes in it were now rumpled and empty and torn. No goats—unicorns—anywhere to be seen.

“I decided to expand my business ventures, see what new untapped markets there were out there. I mean, holy majeezus, have you seen the addendums and paperwork needed to start a business in Daventry? Ooh, you could build your shop out of ‘em! Down here, restrictions are much less restrictive, you can just set up a pop up stand anywhere!” He knit his fingers together and leaned forward conspiratorially, in a low whisper so no guards could hear. “No, actually, they're super restrictive. I got jumped by goblins ages ago and I’ve been down here ever since. Which has been a real dark mark on my bottom line, let me tell ya. And my bottom, if you know what I mean, since I’ve just been sitting here for ages.

“But!” He brightened, at full volume again: “I’ve got a business to run, even if we never get out of this place. Check the current goods list, m’boy, I’m sure you with your newfound fancy hat can afford my pricing scale.”

“Your pricing scale, right,” Graham scoffed. “Last time, you just flat out stole my money.”

“True, true, and I’m so sorry for all the bad things I did.” He clapped his hands together, with a pleading, innocent expression. “From here on in, I’m going to be an honest merchant, not a swindle in sight. Yep! Once I’m outta here, totally honest.” He leaned back again, casual and unchanged. “Learned my lesson behind bars, all that.”

“Sure.”

“Though,” and he said this totally offhand, nearly under his breath, “maybe I should partner up with one of these goblins. Imagine the roadside pilfering we could doooo—” his voice trailed off at Graham’s glare. “We could start a wheel repair shop! Nothing wrong with that! Daventry sorely needs one of those, to stop people being so sore when their wheels fall off in your potholey roads!”

Graham rolled his eyes. “Can I just see the goods?”

The merchant swept his hand across the countertop before him. “Of course! But it’ll cost ya! I’m here to help you, lad. But I’m not running a charity. Tariff code issues, y’know.”

He had a cure-all potion, chopsticks, and porridge. Graham figured he’d need all of it at one point or another, especially that cure-all potion. Poor Bramble downstairs couldn’t even keep to her feet in her cell, and Wente was running himself ragged pacing with nerves worrying over her. His fingers itched to grab it. “Is this all?”

“My finest! At least, my finest down here, there ain’t much refreshing going on here these days. Let me tell you, when I get out of here, I’m going to procure all the procurables in this place and Mr. Fancycakes will run the test lab. We’re gonna get a whole lot more interesting product. But for now, this is it. Mmmostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Yeah, all right,” the Merchant said in a low voice, “I do have a few more things in the back, but they’re not exactly the sort of things a goblin would approve of, if you get my drift.”

“It wouldn’t be you without a black market,” Graham agreed.

“Keep yer voice down, kid. I’ll show you the good stuff, but you gotta be careful.” He rummaged in his cart, and with a flourish, set a box in front of Graham. He whisked the top off, and, nestled inside…

A bow.

Graham’s heart leapt in his throat. A bow. He glanced hastily behind them, but no one was nearby. A bow, a bow! It didn’t look like it was in great shape, not at all like Achaka’s bow—left at home, he’d never go anywhere without a bow again, not after this—but he thought he could still make something of it. He’d practiced long and hard enough to make just about anything work for him. There was a single arrow with it. Splintery looking, not particularly straight.

Not great craftsmanship at all, but it would be something. Especially with a decent archer behind it. But it was only one shot, and not a very straight one at that. Still. It was something.

He reached out. The merchant slapped his hand away. “Six shiny gold coins.”

“I haven’t got six,” Graham said, shaking his stung hand with surprise.

“Then you haven’t got a bow.”

“But it’ll help us escape!”

“Anything could help you escape, technically, but I need to escape poverty on top of escaping from this cell, kid, and the only way I’m going to do that is by collecting your coins.”

Graham rummaged helplessly in his pockets. “I have this signed portrait from Whisper. Collector’s edition!” He also had Whisper himself, but it was probably best to not start treating his friends like trading cards.

The Merchant leaned forward, eyes glittering. “Oooh, such fancy printing, the stroke work is clearly from a master! Almost certainly that’s blue dye ink drawn from the swamp in Tamir. Numbered edition, even! And is that Serenian Goatshear Parchment, so glossy, so fine! Exquisite, really!” He sat back again.

“Don’t you...want it?”

“I ain’t into the bartering system, boy. Unless you’re bartering gold. Get outta here with that, and come back when you’ve found more cash.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Nothing doing. Six for me, or an empty hand for you.” He swept the box back under his counter, hidden away from prying eyes, and changed the subject easily in case of eavesdroppers: “Did you know that unicorns have teleportation abilities? That’s what makes them so majestic…and so mischievous. They’re mischievestic. Shame you don’t have a unicorn to teleport back to your fancy new house with all them fancy flags on it to get you six shiny gold coins. Meantime, can I interest you in anything else down here?”

There were more immediately pressing issues than a bow, or throttling a merchant, Graham knew, and with a sigh, he shook out a single coin, the only one he’d managed to find so far, tucked out of the way in the shadows, for the cure-all potion to deliver to Bramble downstairs.

“Excellent. And, you know, if you’re ever ready to sell that cape, let me know. I want to make it into a pair of red, illustrious shorts!”

Graham flinched back, disgusted. “I think I’ll keep it for now.”

“Eh, fine, fine. Anyway. As much as I like seeing your face, you might want to see who else is looking for a hero. Lanky heroes are a thing now.”

[olderpulp]

contemplating the name remy at 5am on a sunday

[flamencodiva]

Getting Back to You 11 - Hustling and Nightcaps

Description: Amaya Campos and Dean Winchester had a playful rivalry. what happens when Dean is no longer her Dean. Will this change make one of them realize what they really desire, or will they continue to keep secrets?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Amaya Campos (Original Female Character) , AU Dean Winchester x AU Amaya Campos

Warnings: Language, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Word Count For Series: 100K+ words

Beta: @superfanficnatural​ and @emoryhemsworth​​​ and @jensengirl83​​

Book Cover by @talesmaniac89​

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

A/N: Special thanks to - @crashdevlin​ @atc74​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @winchest09​ @waywardbeanie​ @deanwanddamons​ @malfoysqueen14​  @emoryhemsworth​ @janicho88​ @jensengirl83​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @katehuntington​ @anathewierdo​  and to all my friends who listen to me ramble about my writing. your words of encouragement mean the world to me! Without you I don’t think I could have found the courage to come back and share what I love most to do, WRITE.

Getting Back To You Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Amaya tossed and turned as the night went on. There was something nagging her in the back of her mind. By now, Dean would be groaning in his sleep, or at least snoring. But there was a deafening silence that just seemed out of place. Running a hand across her face she sat up and looked around the motel room. 

There sitting in the kitchenette, was Dean. A bottle of beer in his hand, a far away look on his face. It was a look Amaya rarely got to see in her Dean. Throwing the covers off, she got off the bed and walked over towards him. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” she whispered. 

She chuckled when Dean jumped a bit. He was deep in thought when she had approached him. She could see his Adam's apple bob as he took in a soft swallow. 

He gave her a small smile before he cleared his throat, “I dunno… just felt kinda anxious, you know?” 

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Amaya sighed. “It’s weird not having to hear Dean toss and turn or snore sometimes.” 

“He snores?” Dean snorted. “I shouldn’t laugh… Amaya would pinch my nose from time to time if I snored. But I’m worried about her and her nightmares.” 

“She gets nightmares? About what?” Amaya asked. “If you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all,” Dean assured her. “Being abandoned, or people not wanting her. Her dad left her at the academy back home. She always kept mostly to herself.” he took a sip of the beer he was drinking. “I kept trying to be her friend. I started out being this… cocky, know it all, until she knocked me on my ass a few hundred times.” he chuckled at the memory. 

“Sounds like Dean and me,” Amaya gave him  a thin line smile. “He was this tough, cocky dick. And I found ways to knock him down a peg or two.” she chuckled. “This one time, we were at a party in high school out in the woods.” she closed her eyes at the memory. “I was seeing this guy at the time. One of those, just passing by flings.” she shook her head. “Well, needles to say, Dean used a scar from when he had to save me from a ghost. Lady decided to use her cutlery as weapons and she was gunning for me.” 

“What did he do exactly?” Dean raised an eyebrow. 

“Mind you, I saw this from afar and I thought he was trying to show off how macho he was.” she shook her head. “So I go up to the guy and wrap my arms around him and he just gives me this look of disgust.” she sighed. “He starts calling me every name in the book and saying I’m insane for stabbing my ex when he did nothing and I was confused as hell.” 

Dean watched as she paused to take a gulp from the beer bottle. When she was done, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose before continuing. 

“I walked up to him and whatever slut he was flirting with, grabbed him by his neck, and said in his ear, ‘Since I’m your crazy ex, guess it’s okay for me to act like it!’ So I pulled him away from blondie and dragged him away from the party and just laid him out on the ground in an arm bar. Almost snapped his shoulder until Sam pulled me off.” 

“Why am I an ass in this world?” Dean ran a hand across his face. “Honestly, I mean, what is the point of doing that?” 

“Defense mechanism,” Amaya sighed. “I mean, I’m not going to deny it. I fell for him.” she let out a laugh. “It’s cruel that I would fall for him when he doesn’t love me back.” 

“You don’t--” 

“I do,” Amaya whispered sadly. “If he did. If he really did, he would say fuck it, grow some balls and be with me. But no matter how much I’m there for him in every way… even as just a warm body,” she chugged the last bit of her beer and hissed. “I have to face the facts. I need to move on. If I don’t, I’m only going to hurt myself.” 

Dean stayed silent as her words sunk in. He still couldn’t grasp the severity of what this version of himself went through. 

“I always tried to convince Amaya I wasn’t going anywhere.” Dean whispered. “She seemed to think that when I first asked her out that it was some prank orchestrated by the other huntresses.” Dean chuckled. “I would spar with her and she would just lay me flat time and time again and I would look up at her and say, ‘see, you keep knocking me off my feet. Would you just go out with me, already?’ And she would call me a jackass and just walk away.”  

“So what made her finally give in?” Amaya asked with a smile. 

She could tell that Dean loved his Amaya. The way his eyes shined at the mere mention of her. When he said her name, he would smile. 

“I killed the vamp that decided to take a bite of her.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair as he played with the label on the beer bottle. “She lost some blood, I took her back to our hotel and stitched her up. I stayed up all night just making sure she was okay.” He grabbed the beer and began to chug its contents. “Next morning, she woke me up from drooling on her arm. Called me an idiot, said thanks and kissed me out of nowhere.” 

Amaya watched as the corners of his lips curled up into a soft smile. But she knew he was feeling sad, feeling homesick. 

“After that kiss, I took her out on a real date and we dated for about five years before I popped the question.” He let out a laugh. “I should have married her after I almost died. But we have this tradition that--” he paused to take a drink. “It seems stupid, but it is practical. There is a ceremony that is supposed to ‘protect’ the newly weds.” he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I should have just married her and done the ceremony at a later time. I shouldn’t have listened to my mother at the time and now look… and… and…” 

“Dean?” Amaya sat up as she saw something she rarely saw Dean do, cry. 

The last time she saw Dean, her Dean, look as broken as he was before her was when he had been dragged out of hell. She watched as he clenched his jaw, her heart jumped slightly at the look. The clenched jaw, the way he tried to swallow the guilt.  

“What happened in your world?” Amaya whispered. 

“I was grading papers at the academy,” he took in a shaky breath. “There was a knock on the door and Lisa Braden walked in.” he let out a scoff and sneered. “She kept digging at how Amaya and I hadn’t gotten married. Wedding is set for next week,” he grabbed the beer and finished it off before standing up to open up another. “I was an idiot getting out from behind my desk. But I wanted to seem busy. I also needed to write some things on the board but… besides the point.” 

He opened the bottle and chugged as much as he could before clenching his fist. Walking back to the table, he knocked on it slightly before slumping onto the chair. 

 “Next thing I know she’s kissing me and I want to pull away but… something strange happens.” he closed his eyes trying to stop his eyes from crying but a single tear escapes. “But…” he grit his teeth and turned his head. “Something was wrong. My heart was screaming it’s not Amaya, but my head… in my head it was her. I could almost feel her and then… I opened my eyes and it was her… I swear for a moment, Amaya was in front of me and not Lisa.” 

“And that’s when the other version of me walked in. I’m guessing.” Amaya muttered and finished her second beer. 

“She called off the wedding, too,” He let out a frustrated laugh. “I need to get back. I need to marry her next week.” 

“Okay,” was all Amaya said. “Since we can’t sleep, might as well get dressed and entertain ourselves.” 

“By doing what?” Dean ran a hand across his face. “Salsa dancing?” 

“We hustle pool,” Amaya said matter of factly.  

Dean sighed as he slept on the hotel bed. 

He could feel her in his arms. The smell of her lavender shampoo filled his senses as he felt her fingers brush against his skin. 

“Maya,” He whispered as her lips brushed his. “You know we shouldn’t be doing this?” 

“You chicken, Winchester?” she said with a teasing smile. “You know there is no turning back from this.” 

“Hey, you’re the one that said yes,” He chuckled. “Just want to make sure you aren’t backing out now.” 

“We’re getting married in the morning and we’re breaking the number one rule,” Amaya giggled. 

“Since when do Winchester’s play by the rules?” he reminded her. “Besides,” he kissed along her neck and collar bone. “Need one last run as singles before the big day tomorrow.” 

“Perv,” She slapped at his arm but giggled anyway. 

The sound made him smile to the point his cheeks were hurting. Next thing he knew, he watched her walk down the aisle. She wore a corset style top with a fitted and flared skirt. She was glowing as she walked down the white carpet they had decided on. With Cas standing in as their officiant.  Dan smiled at Amaya as she smiled back. The scene moved quickly until Cas asked the important question. 

“Do you, Dean Winchester,” Cas breathed with a smile. “Finally take Amaya Campos as your wife? Mostly because this wedding is illegal since you are both technically considered dead.” 

Dean let out a laugh and smiled at Amaya, “I do.” 

“Do you, Amaya,” Cas sighed. “Do the same thing I asked but with Dean?” 

“I--” 

“Maya?” Dean whispered as blood began to seep out of the corner of Amaya’s mouth. “No.” 

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” 

The voice sent a shiver down Dean's spine as an arm wrapped around Amaya pulling her away from him as he felt something restraining him. All around his arms and legs were hooks sinking into his skin. 

“Alastair,” Dean growled as the Demon pulled Amaya towards him, her back to his chest as he held a knife over her belly. “Let her go!” 

“You didn’t really think you actually left my rack, did you?” Alastair ran his knife along Amaya’s cheek as she whimpered. “She whimpers so nice, Dean. I mean, that is very sweet. I love it when they squeal.” He plunged the blade into Amaya’s abdomen. 

“NO!” Dean screamed and cried when he pulled on the hooks that dug into him. “MAYA!” 

All he could do was watch as Alastair dragged the blade along her belly, slicing her open. Her white dress now stained red with her blood as it began to pool on the floor. Dean closed his eyes only to feel a slap on his face. 

“No, no, no, Dean,” Alastair said with a laugh. “Open your eyes and look at what you brought on her.” he pulled on his hair. “Look at what loving her did. This is why you can never love anyone.” Alastair hissed in his ear. “You’re poison. You bring nothing but death to the people you love. And she is only your latest casualty.” 

“Maya,” Dean whimpered as the tears rolled down his face. “MAYA!” he screamed as her cold dead eyes stared right back at him. 

Dean’s eyes flashed open as he sat up on the bed. Sweat dripped down his face as he took in deep breaths to try and calm down. He hated when he dreamed. That was the worst one yet. It wasn't the only one that had featured Alastair, but it was the goriest one. 

“Bad dream?” a voice called from across the room. 

“Not really,” Dean took a deep breath through his nose. “Bed isn’t all that comfortable for dreaming.” 

Amaya let out a snort as she held her glass to her lips, “Yeah, okay. “ 

“What about you?” Dean pointed out. “You get up to have a nightcap often?” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she grumbled. “Want some?” 

Dean smiled as he saw the whiskey bottle. Walking over towards the table, he pulled out the chair and sat down. Grabbing the bottle, he poured himself around two fingers full. The familiar burn in his throat gave him a small bit of satisfaction. 

“So…” Dean clicked his tongue. “Why are you running from love? See me, I know why I’m running. I’m poison. Anything I love, anything I touch, will die.” he admitted. “From what you told me about how you grew up here, I think you’re running from something.” 

“Am not,” Amaya snorted. 

From the look of the bottle, Dean surmised she was already slightly drunk. 

“He was just going to leave anyways,” she snorted. “It’s why my father abandoned me. Last-- las’ thin’ he said was that I am going to end up alone.” 

“What?” Dean raised an eyebrow at her. “Omar said you were destined to be alone? Come on!” 

“He did!” Amaya exclaimed. “He-- he never contacted me again. And I was always alone. I mean… the girls all hated me because I was good at everything and I caught Dean’s attention.” she let out another snort. “Me.. golden boy had his eyes on me. I always thought it was a cosmic joke.” 

“So,” Dean finished his whiskey and poured himself some more. “Let me get this straight. You are running from Dean because he is eventually going to leave you because you feel you’re cursed to be abandoned?” Dean let out a scoff. “Sweetheart, if he ever did that then he isn't anything like me.” 

“He isn’t. But he did. He kissed Lisa. I don't care if a spell was behind it. He kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her and…” she sniffled a bit. “After everything I heard, what the other female hunters were saying… they said it served me right. That I was too cold for the Knight of Hunters.” 

“Is that what they call him?” Dean smirked. 

“More like what he was to me. He saved me in terms of being alone…” she admitted. “He never gave up on me, though.”  She said sadly. “He just kept pushing and pushing. I kept knocking him down and knocking him down. Until we were on assignment together. It was a vamps nest.” she seemed to smile at the memory. 

“What, did you save his ass?” Dean chuckled. 

It seemed to be the pattern with them. She would kick this version of himself in the ass, while he just tried to show her that she was not worthless. A part of him knew that if Amaya ever felt that way in his world, he always tried to make her feel wanted. At least until he felt he was getting too close. Then he cut it to the quick and distanced himself. 

“Actually,” she paused and finished her drink before reaching for the bottle to pour herself some more. “He saved me. I was too cocky for my own good and I didn’t realize I had missed one.” she recalled. “I had my back turned and it chomped on me from behind. Dean jumped in and killed it just in time.”  

“Funny,” Dean let out a small huff. “Opposite happened to me and Maya. I had my back turned and she saved my ass. Not the first time either.” he admitted. “I--” he slammed back the rest of his whiskey before grabbing more. “She’s my best friend. I’m sure she knows that, deep down. But… I always seemed to push her buttons and--” he took a sip and hissed as the amber liquid flowed down his throat. 

“You love her,” Amaya whispered. 

“What?” Dean let out a high pitched sound. “No. I mean I… She’s my friend so I care about her but I don’t love her like THAT.” 

“Your lips are lying, but your eyes,” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ve seen that look. It’s the look Dean would give me. Or rather, still gives me. Even before this whole thing happened. When I was packing my things and he tried to stop me. I could tell. He--” she wiped the stray tear that had started to fall. “He was hurt that I would leave. But his eyes still showed love in them.” 

“Yeah? And how do you know that I feel the same way about my Maya? Huh?” he grumbled. “You don’t know--” 

“Because you look at me the same way,” her brown eyes met his green ones.

Dean could feel a small sense of familiarity at the way her eyes stared into him. He noticed the emotion, she was sad. She missed her Dean, even though she was pushing him away, running from him. She missed him. And as much as he hated to admit it, he missed his Amaya. 

 “When we first met,” she interrupted his thoughts and licked her lips. “You had this… look in them. You were guilty about something. But they flashed with a hint of longing, if that makes sense.” 

Dean stayed silent as her words washed over him. Damn her for being just as observant as he was. Fucking bitch had figured him out in just days of knowing him. Clenching his jaw, he gave her a hard glare before leaning towards her. 

“You know nothing about me, sweetheart,” he huffed. “IF I were to even think of Amaya like that, which I’m not saying I am, she’s as good as dead in my arms. Because that’s how they all end up.” He continued to hold her gaze as he spoke. “Every single relationship I had, everyone I ever cared about ended up hurt or dead. Hell, I had to have an angel erase the memory of a woman I spent a year with, helping her raise her son, after she got captured by demons. So let’s get this thing straightened out. I do NOT love Maya in that way. All we are is fuck buddies. Understand?” 

Amaya raised her hands in defeat, “Okay. I get it. But remember this. You’re running away just like I am. I don’t judge you, if you don’t judge me.” 

“Deal,” Dean huffed. “Know a good place to hustle pool?” 

Amaya gave him a devilish smirk, “You know how to hustle pool? You’re yanking my chain.” 

Dean let out a chuckle, “Sweetheart, I’ve been hustling pool since I was in diapers.” 

In the pool hall, Dean fidgeted nervously. The way Amaya walked around the pool table made him nervous. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to play pool, he did. He just wasn’t good at hustling. He watched as Amaya walked up to him carrying the pool cue in one hand and a glass of whiskey in another. 

"You need to relax," she whispered in his ear.

Her breath sent a shiver down his spine.

"I can't… this is… my Amaya was better at this than I was." He whispered back. "I was the one she would play against and lose." 

Amaya tilted her head to the side in thought, “Okay, let’s play one game and let me see what you’re all about.” 

Dean simply nodded as he moved to the side and let her rack up the balls. He watched as Amaya studied the table with a smirk. He recognized that look, it was a look of strategy. She was measuring all the angles she could use. Next thing he knew, she hit the cue ball and the game began. He was only able to sink in a few solid balls as she sunk stripe after stripe. The one thing he noticed was that, while she was measuring for trick shots, she never used any. In fact, she had missed a few on purpose with a smirk. 

“What are you doing?” he whispered to her. He made himself seem as though he was flirting with her. 

“Trying to catch a big one,” she breathed back, using her eyes to point at a few men that were watching. 

“You know,” Dean raised his voice as he gave her a wink. “You’re pretty good at this, mama.” 

“Yeah,” she let out a giggle. “What makes you say that?” 

“You wiped the floor with me.” Dean walked around the table as they finished their game. 

“Hey toots!” one of the men who was observing them called out. “Why don’t you play with a real man?” 

“Call me when you find one,” Amaya sassed with a smile. 

“You give me your number, and I’ll give you mine.” the man had walked up to the table and leaned over it shooting her a wink. 

With a small glance at Dean who nodded, she flashed the man a smirk. 

“Rack ‘em up,” she walked over towards him and ran her index finger along his cheek, trailing down his jaw, and towards his chest. “Big boy.” 

Amaya could smell him a mile away. This man thought she would be an easy target, so she decided to play it up. She was thankful for the off shoulder black tube top she was wearing. It squeezed her breasts just right, giving off a large amount of cleavage. As she leaned over the table, she made sure to give Mr. Cocky a good view of her own rack while pushing her ass out in her skin tight jeans. Her hair in a neat braid as she moved around the table, sinking in shot after shot. 

“Eight ball,” she called lazily. “Corner pocket.” 

Dean watched as she sunk it with ease while the gorilla who was watching her grabbed his cue so tight, his knuckles were turning white. 

“Beginners luck,” he grumbled as he set down the five hundred dollars they bet on the table. 

Amaya gave him a sweet purr as she let her fingers brush along his arm. 

“Want to double or nothing?” She whispered. “I mean, this was my first, real, game.” she brought her face dangerously close to gorilla’s. “What do you have to lose?” 

It wasn’t long before Amaya and Dean were walking out of the pool hall. Amaya hummed happily as she counted off the money they made. 

“Four thousand dollars!” she sighed contently as they climbed into the Impala. “Oh man, Dean would have flipped if we ever got this much in one night! This was a lucky night.” 

“I guess it was.” Dean chuckled. 

The smile on Amaya’s face made him both happy and sad. Sad that he wasn’t with his version of her, but happy that he could make any version of her smile. Without even thinking, he reached over and placed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek as he pulled his hand back. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I... um…” he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “We should try and go back and get some sleep. Got a long drive to make.” 

“Yeah,” Amaya whispered. 

There were days that she wished Dean would look at her the way this alternate version was looking at her. Weeks that she would dream about even the gentlest touches coming from him. Closing her eyes she shook away the feeling and swallowed the lump in her throat. 

“We should get back and try to sleep.” she echoed, refusing to look at him. 

The drive to the motel was filled with silence as they undressed and got comfortable before settling in and letting sleep over take them. 

Dean and Amaya were back on the road. To say that sleep did not come easy was an understatement. Despite the fact that Amaya insisted on them drinking whiskey to help, it did nothing but fill both of them with dreams of longing. Each of them dreamed of being with the right versions of the people they loved only to be disturbed when the light of the sun woke them.  

“You okay over there?” He asked as they barreled down the road. 

“Yeah, fine.” She brushed him off.  She had grabbed her phone and began dialling Sam. “Please tell me you have more information on what’s going on?” she sighed. 

Dean focused on the road as he heard her talking to Sam. In the middle of the ‘uh-huh’ and ‘yeah that sounds like it’, Dean had a thought. 

“Can you ask him if it has anything to do with Hecate?” 

The question left his lips and he could feel Amaya’s eyes on him. 

“Did you just say Hecate? As in Goddess of Magic and Witchcraft?” Amaya said. In that instance she let out a groan. “When the fuck were you going to tell me you guys were messing with Witches of Hecate, Winchester?” she yelled into the phone. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Sam! You are dealing with a Greek Goddess and not just any Greek Goddess I might add!” 

Dean sighed, he thought back to what Hecate said in his universe. He said that it was nothing against him, but at the same time maybe it was his fault. Back in his world, it didn’t matter if Witches were white or dark. A Witch was a Witch and they had to die. 

“I think that would be my world’s fault.” Dean rubbed at his eyes as he pulled the car over.  

“Hold on, Sam,” Amaya sighed as she turned to Dean. “What do you mean?” 

“In… In my world, a Witch is a Witch.” He explained. “So when someone is caught, we either imprison them or…” he trailed off. 

“So,” Amaya pinched the bridge of her nose. Pulling the phone away from her ear she pressed the speaker button. “Okay, let me get this straight. You guys felt that no matter what kind of magic was used, a Witch was always evil?” 

Sam let out an audible groan. “And now she’s trying to get revenge. But why target our Dean?” 

“He hates Witches Sam… He’s an easy target.” Amaya huffed. “Of course put him in a world where his ‘all witches are bad’ motto will make him happy.” 

Dean let out a groan and placed his forehead on the steering wheel. “This is all kinds of fucked up. I just want to go home!” he whined. 

“This isn’t a picnic for us either, pal,” Amaya grumbled. “I want grumpy back. I hate to admit it, but the faster we get him back the faster I can go off on my own.” 

“Maya,” Sam’s voice came in. “you know that he--” 

“Save it, Sam,” Amaya hissed. “He’s been pulling this shit since I can remember. So no, I won’t stick around when he comes home. Besides, Jason is meeting us in Salem.” 

“What?!” Sam and Dean both echoed. 

“Just... let’s keep driving. We’re wasting time! Not to mention we need to do some investigating when we get there, if Jason hasn’t started already.” 

Dean started the car back up and continued the drive, pushing the Impala as fast as he could.

Dean let out a laugh as Amaya finished wiping the floor with another sucker. They had decided to split up and make it a small competition to see who could win the most money. Only after Dean had proven it to her that he could play. He had a difficult shot to make, and with a smirk, made the cue ball jump over one of the balls in his way to sink the eight ball in. At the time, they were the only ones at the pool table. 

Amaya had found a small pool hall that was just empty enough to test his skill before the patrons filtered in. Drinks were flowing and laughter filtered through. The groans of disappointment echoed as both Dean and Amaya’s tables were filled with onlookers. 

“You know,” Dean heard one of the men say to Amaya as she bent over the table. “Why don’t you come back with me and I can sink some balls in some holes for you?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched as Amaya pulled the cue back quickly hitting the man in his solar plexus. 

“Oh,” she cooed. “I’m sorry, amor. I only let certain balls sink into particular holes.” with that she lined up her shot and sunk in the eight ball. “I believe the stakes were triple, right?” 

Before he knew it, between the two of them they made a good eight thousand dollars. Dean gave a low whistle as they counted up the money, Amaya giving him his four while she kept hers. 

“I call that the best night I’ve ever had,” he chuckled. “We need to play pool more. Could probably clean house.”   

“Yeah,” Amaya sighed as she leaned up against the Impala. “You are really good. You weren’t kidding when you said you’ve played since you were young.” 

“Told ya,” he shot her a cocky smile. “I take it we should get some sleep while we can.” he cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

By now, he and Amaya would have gone back to the motel, drank some whiskey, and ended up in bed together. Mostly with Dean giving her gentle touches as she slept. Mostly because he couldn’t do it while she was awake. He would never admit to having a few secrets of admitting he loved her to himself. But damn it if he didn’t miss her.  And damn it if thinking about her didn’t give him the biggest hard on in his life. And here in front of him was her doppelganger. Dressed in a crop top band tee, tight jeans, leather jacket, and biker boots. Her hair flowed around her with a smile that reminded him of what his heart wanted.  

“Yeah we should,” she agreed, clearing her throat. “I take it, you had to hustle to survive.” 

 Dean reached over and grazed his thumb along her lips before recoiling it back as if touching her burned him. 

“Sorry,” he rasped. “You had a smudge and I-- I just…” 

“It’s fine,” Amaya whispered. “How about we celebrate with some more whiskey?” 

“That sounds like a plan, sweetheart,” Dean said as he smiled. “I could get used to that.” 

The drive back to the hotel, with a pit stop at a liquor store, resulted in good music, crude jokes, and stumbling into the hotel room. 

“So… so, we barge into this coven that’s out in a cabin and… Dean and I have to turn away because they were--” she paused to take a drink from the bottle as they sat on the floor, before passing it back to Dean. “They were worshiping in skyclad. And we had walked in on their orgy. It was butts and tits, and penises everywhere!” 

“That must have been one messy massacre,” Dean grumbled. 

“Why do you say it like that?” Amaya frowned at him. 

“Were they Wiccan’s or witches?” Dean tried to clarify. 

“Witches are witches, nothing more and nothing less.” Amaya gave him a slight glare. “Magic is dangerous, no matter what it’s used for.” 

“And yet,” Dean took a gulp from the bottle hissing as the liquid gave him a slight burn. “The incantations we use to send demons back, the key of Solomon, incantations to beef up weapons, or puzzle boxes,” Dean listed off. “That’s all magic.” 

“Are you sympathetic to witches?” Amaya asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Fuck no,” Dean chuckled. “I hate hags as much as the next hunter. But… not all witches go darkside. There are white witches, and witches who work with gods. I mean probably not THE God, but Greek gods? Definitely.” 

“What is your point,” Amaya drawled. “Monsters are monsters, Dean. They are almost all under control here that we hardly have any cases to filter through.”  

“Just,” Dean ran a hand across his face. “Not all monsters are evil. Some of them, if not all of them, were human at some point or another in their lives. And they learn to live quietly.” 

 Amaya pressed her lips into a thin line. She had seen it before, monsters who had families and were living off the blood of livestock. Witches who never harmed anyone, but were still on the list because of a spike in magical energy that scared the council. 

“I guess Hecate lied about it not being our fault,” she hissed. 

“Hecate? You mean, long skinny, black eyes with silver specs in them Goddess of witches?” Dean asked. “THAT Hecate?” 

“Not as dumb as you look,” Amaya sighed. “Yes, that Hecate. We had captured her followers and one of them had invoked her. Nearly destroyed the bunker. That was the day Eileen told me I couldn’t have kids. I was almost crushed to death.” 

Dean stayed silent as her story sunk in. 

“Well then, guess whoever these witches are in Salem,” he groaned as he got up off the floor and held out his hand to her. “We’re going to have to ask them how we put things right.” 

As Amaya held onto his hand to get up, Dean pulled her a little too hard. She tumbled forward and almost fell, but Dean moved quickly to pull her toward his body. His arms wrapped around her as her hands pressed on his chest. They both froze as they stared into each other's eyes. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat looking at the woman in his arms. The familiar scent of Lavender mixed with gunpowder and... something else. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. 

“You uh,” Dean whispered and offered her a smile. “There’s something to your smell, I can smell gunpowder, Lavender, but there is something else. I can’t pinpoint it.”  

“Jasmine,” she answered. “It’s a lavender shampoo with a jasmine body wash. The gunpowder is obvious.”   

She dared to look into his green eyes. Eyes that were full of pain, and loss. Eyes that were of a stranger and yet, at the same time were familiar. His own scent hit her own senses. Gunpowder, leather, and whiskey. The leather was unfamiliar. She guessed, from the story he shared earlier, was from sleeping in the Impala for most of his life. 

The two of them stood in the center of the hotel room. Neither of them moved away. The deafening silence surrounded them as their hearts pounded in their chests. Dean was the first to break the trance as he cleared his throat and moved away. 

“We should…” he trailed off and pointed to the beds. 

“Right,” Amaya agreed. “We should get some rest. We have a bit of a drive.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said as he turned away and began stripping his clothes to get comfortable while Amaya did the same. 

“Night, roughneck.” she muttered once she was nestled between the sheets.

“Yeah, night, Ice Queen,” Dean huffed with a smile as he settled into the bed. 

Both of them layed in bed until sleep was able to consume them. The nightmares still played, but they didn’t dare to move as the night went on. By the next morning, the car ride was filled with the sounds of classic rock as they made their way to Salem. Being used to driving long distances on little sleep, Dean was able to convince Amaya to let it happen. It worked out in the end as they were able to make it just as the sun began to set. 

“Take this next exit and drive to The Merchant Hotel,” Amaya instructed. “Unfortunately I had to book us a king suit. The Lark.” 

Following Amaya’s directions, Dean found the hotel and parked the car as close as he could. Settling into their room, Dean pushed a few chairs together. 

Amaya bit her lip, “You know… we can share the bed.” she sighed. “It’s big enough for both of us and… I can ask for extra pillows.” 

Dean hated to admit it, but the bed did look inviting. And even though this Amaya wasn’t his, he couldn’t help but feel that pull towards her. 

“No, I’m good. I can sleep on that corner there where that bench seat is up against the wall. You can have the bed.” Dean cleared his throat. “Besides, I can’t stand cover hogs. And the way you hogged the covers at the last hotel makes me think I’m going to freeze to death in this room.” 

“Fine, jackass,” Amaya grumbled as she grabbed a few pillows and threw them at him. “I’m going to head down to the bar.” 

Before Dean could stop her she was already out the door. Running a hand across his face he let out a frustrated groan and continued to arrange the small couch so that he could sleep when he was ready. Once it was adjusted to how he wanted it, he made sure he had his wallet before following Amaya out of the room and down to find the bar. What he didn’t expect to find was Amaya hanging off the arm of a man dressed in a sharp suit, and perfectly combed hair. 

“Dean, ole chap! How have you been?” The man smiled as he walked up to Dean and shook his hand. 

“I’ve been great, uh…” Dean looked at Amaya for help. 

“Ketch,” Amaya interrupted. “Your drink is ready at the bar.” 

“We should catch up over a night cap and a cigar,” Ketch said as he made his way to the bar leaving Amaya and Dean alone for a moment. 

“That is Ketch,” Amaya sighed. “I guess British base sent him to make sure London is really what I want.” 

“He seems like a douche,” Dean snorted. “Is it what you really want?” Dean asked. 

“Ketch?” Amaya asked, confused. 

“No, London, is it what you really want? Or are you using it as an excuse to run away and never see Dean again?” Dean breathed. 

“It’s none of your business, roughneck,” she sneered. “Just don't get in the way of this hunt. Our research team worked very hard for this for some highschool drop-out to ruin it.” 

“And the Ice Queen makes her appearance,” Dean scoffed. 

“And the roughneck is just as surly as ever,” Amaya hissed. 

“Amaya, mi amor. ¿Cómo le ha ido?” Ketch smiled as he looked between Dean and Amaya. (Amaya, my love. How have you been?). 

Before Dean knew what was happening, the conversation between Ketch and Amaya turned into a rapid fire of Spanish. Nothing coming out of their mouths was slow enough for him to understand. Next thing he knew he caught the words, ‘estupido’ and Amaya glancing at him. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart,” Dean growled in her ear. 

 “Dean you look ragged, ole chap.” Ketch slapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry that you and Amaya won't be tying the knot though.” 

“Still have a week left Ketchy boy,” Dean said through gritted teeth as he shrugged Ketch off. “But you had a long flight, from merry ole England, right?” 

“Not too bad,” Ketch picked at his nails. “But I was able to sleep on the flight.” he leaned in towards Dean. “Give it up ole boy. You took her from me once, I won’t let it happen again. You messed up and are paying the price. She’s mine.” 

“I love how you're an opportunist, Ketch,” Dean eyed him up and down. “But I won the girl. She has my ring on her finger. And if I have to drag her down that aisle, I will!”

Dean was shocked by the words that came out of his mouth. He was supposed to be going home. But here was this sleazy guy, eying Amaya like a steak dinner. He was the only guy, in any universe, allowed to do that.

Amaya sighed as she flopped down on her bed at the Clipper Ship Inn. In truth, it was probably a lot nicer than some of the motels they had ever stayed in, but it still had the motel feeling. Dean had gone off to grab some supplies as she began researching. She had tied up her hair in a messy bun as she always did when working. But there was something in the crime pictures that she had pulled up thanks to Sam’s hacking.

There, at one of the crime scenes, was the symbol of Hecate. The symbol was a five pointed star with a circle that had almost a maze-like pattern to it. Amaya tilted her head as she studied the crime scene photo. There was something else to the symbol, something that didn’t quite fit. Grabbing her phone she began to dial Sam’s number. 

“Hey Sam, I have a question for you,” She breathed just as Dean walked into the room with a bag of fast food. 

‘Uh, yeah, what’s your question?’ Sam tried to stifle his yawn. 

“Did you get any sleep?” Amaya asked softly. 

‘I’m fine, Cas says he’s going to do some digging up in heaven for something. Maybe there is a way to track Dean’s soul since it’s a part of our universe and not the other Dean’s.’  He let out a small huff. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Amaya sighed. “Look Sam, about what I said… before I left, I’m--”

‘I know, Maya. You don’t have to say it. You’re in a bad place, we all are and we just want our Dean back.’ 

“As grumpy as he is, yeah. He owes me a Macarena,” Maya tried to lighten the mood. 

‘Yeah he does,’ Sam let out a small chuckle. ‘Just, be careful out there, okay? Don’t lose your head.’  

“Unless I’m dealing with the Queen of Hearts, I don’t plan to. Should get back to strategizing. We’ll start with the police station tomorrow once we get all the info we can get out of what you hacked for us.” 

Amaya never noticed Dean looking at the screen from over her shoulder. He had begun eating his grilled chicken salad. As he took a forkful into his mouth he tilted his head and put his food down next to her. Reaching over her, he zoomed in on the symbols and tapped on Amaya’s shoulder. 

“Put him on speaker,” he commanded as he grabbed a paper and a pen and began writing down notes furiously. 

“Um… Sam, I’m going to put you on speaker.” Amaya said. Her tone was full of confusion on what Dean was doing. 

‘Okay, is there something wrong with the research?’ Sam asked as the sounds of computer keys clacking came from the speaker. 

“No, no. It’s good work. I just need some books from the archive.” Dean pushed the paper towards Amaya so she could look. “If you can find a way to send us digital copies of the pages I need that would actually help.” 

‘What do you need ?’ Sam asked. 

“Okay, going to need Scriptura Deorum. It should be on the third shelf, third bookshelf.” Dean recited. “Then from the fifth bookshelf I need, Signum Deos. Next, you are going to the opposite side, bookshelf number ten, top shelf, Runes Anam. Last book might need to get back to us. It’s in the dungeon room. The title is called Siombail Anamacha.” 

‘Okay, let me repeat the titles, you want, Scriptura Deorum. Bible of the Gods. Then you want Signum Deos, Symbols of Gods. Then Runes Anam, Soul Runes, and Siombail Anamacha, Symbols of Souls?’ Sam sounded surprised. 

“That’s what I said.” Dean chuckled. “Omnia facere volo ire in domum suam.” 

‘Yeah, Dean. We know you want to go home.’ Sam translated and sighed. ‘Fucking weird hearing perfect Latin from you.’ Sam muttered. 

“I think that’s everything, Sam. Just let me know if we have anything archived that I can look at digitally.” Amaya said as she rubbed her temples.  “Necesito un trago fuerte.” 

(I need a fucking drink.) 

“¿Qué tipo de bebida quieres, cariño?” Dean gave her a devilish smirk. (what kind of drink do you want, sweetheart? )

“Can you stop that, please!” Amaya looked away from him.

“ No, no voy a dejar de ser quien soy solo porque te incomoda!” Dean exclaimed as he looked at Amaya. “Puedo hablar español, latín, japonés, ruso. Puedo seguir y hacerte girar la cabeza. Entonces, no, no dejaré de hablar los muchos idiomas que conozco sólo porque su amigo emocionalmente carenciado con beneficios no puede.” ( No, I will not stop being who I am just because it bothers you! I can speak Spanish, Latin, Japanese, Russian. I can go on and turn your head. So, no, I won't stop speaking the many languages ​​I know just because your emotionally lacking friend with benefits can't.)

“Sabes que? Te puedes ir a casa carajo!” She got up from her seat and poked at his chest. “no tienes derecho a quedarte allí y juzgarme o lo que tuve con MI Dean.” she seethed, her eyes burning with anger. “Podemos ser amigos con beneficios, pero todo terminará de todos modos.” She reminded him. “Una vez que te devolvamos a donde perteneces, no tengo que pensar en cómo tú y tu Amaya tienen una relación perfecta o un matrimonio perfecto o --” 

(you don't have the right to stand there and judge me or what I had with MY Dean. we may be friends with benefits but it's all going to end anyways. once we put you back where you belong I don't have to think about how you and your Amaya have a perfect relationship or a perfect marriage or--)

Before she could keep going, a knock interrupted her. Raising her eyebrow at Dean who simply shrugged, she grabbed her Colt M11911A1 with a custom lavender handle that Dean had gifted her for her twenty first birthday. Walking to the door, she cocked the gun before opening it to see a smiling Jason with a bottle of Havana Club rum and a box of Hoyo de Monterrey cigars. 

“Hi Amaya,” He said with a smile. 

“Jason,” Amaya whispered. 

Chapter 12 

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[oh-no-toshinori]

#2, Pride Month Story

Hey, I'm back for another pride story! This one will surround the fandom of Haikyu!! / Haikyuu!! I'll be using a random OC for this one. They'll be known as Raidon Katsuo, Katsuo being their first name for those who don't know which way the names will be going for this. Some background about this person is that they changed their name long ago, and students are starting to create rumors about Katsuo. Trigger Warning! This has mentions of bullying and harassment against Transgender Student(s)! I'm writing this based off of things I've witnessed and experienced myself.

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Looking around in English Class, I see students snickering and leering behind them to look in my direction. I sit lower in my seat, fully aware and absolutely uncomfortable with the attention I'm getting. I had no idea what they were talking about, and I wish I never found out.

Before I know it, the bell rings, signifying the end of the day. Classes were finally over for the day for most kids, but for me it meant that I had to make my way to the gym for Volleyball practice. Nishinoya and Tanaka tried to convince me to join the Volleyball Team, and sadly the two were absurdly convincing. I joined the team about a month ago, and let me tell ya, I love it on the court.

As I make my way through the halls, I continue to see peers staring and looking confused. Some looked as if they were getting a kick out of what was being said. It seemed to be a rumor about me, but I didn't want to assume. Looking around me, I seemed to have been left out; the only student that was actually walking through the seemingly empty corridor. Maybe the rumors were about me?

I didn't want to overthink it. Maybe it was just something harmless such as kissing someone on the cheek or the having the lowest grade-

"I heard his name was actually Raidon Amaya. Do you think that's true?" "I don't know, but that's quite a silly name for a guy." "Maybe he was a girl?" "Ew, a girl turning into a guy? That means he has cooties or something!" "Don't be immature, it just means that he's actually a she, and we should address him as so instead of using something that isn't a lie." "She's right."

My heart stopped. That's not who I am! How did anyone figure out my deadname? I started feeling sick as my mind started to spin. My stomach started churning, and ultimately I knew that I was gonna puke. I dashed my way into the male's restroom, taking myself into a stall right before the waterfall. I splurged out anything that I had eaten today, the back of my throat becoming irritated with each and every heave I had.

How did anyone find out this information? That was my information to share, not theirs. And I sure as hell was not ready to share it.

About ten minutes pass before my stomach and diaphragm were ready to calm down. I stand to my feet weakly and make my way to the sinks after flushing the toilet. I wash my hands and face thoroughly and make my way over to the disposable paper towels.

Suddenly, a hand smacks itself onto the wall, startling me before I can even rip a single sheet of paper towel off to dry my face. I look up to the perpetrator. I immediately see a dark smile on his face along with the two other males standing right behind him.

"Can I help you?" I croak out, my vocals and throat damaged by my stomach acid.

"Katsuo, or should we say Amaya," They sneer as I hesitate to throw up more, "You don't belong in this bathroom. It's the men's washroom, not the women's. Can't ya read the signs?"

"Excuse me, but I am a dude. I don't really know how you got this information, but whoever told you this lied to you." I try to turn around so I can leave, but a hand grabs my shoulders and pulls me back into the wall.

The bigger male of the three pins my front to the wall, my back facing them. The leader of the group comes up to me and whispers in my ear. "Of I catch ya coming in here again, you're toast. Got it?"

I nod, but deep down I know he's in the wrong. I am a male and nobody can tell me otherwise. I'm not a female, and nothing inside of me has ever screamed at me to be a female. I will not go back. Ever.

They let me go and I make sure to scurry out of the restroom. I didn't have much time left to get to practice- hold on, I'm Late! There is no time to waste anymore!

I start walking faster, unable to run but capable of speed-walking. My tread lasts about five minutes before I burst into the gymnasium out of breath and ready to puke again.

The volleyball players all look at me. Daichi looked annoyed while others looked confused and concerned. Hinata was off in space once again and quite frankly I was relieved by that.

"Raidon, where have you been?" Daichi asks whilst using his leadership voice. . . that's what I called it anyways.

"Hold on Daichi, he doesn't look so well." Asahi intervenes. "Are doing okay? You're extremely pale and you look like you're about to collapse." He walks towards me.

Subconsciously my body makes the decision to back up - I had no idea I was backing up until the brunette put his hands up and stopped walking closer to me. I mutter an apology and rub the back of my head, the cold sweats from when I had become sick starting to come back.

"Katsuo, this isn't like you, is everything okay?" Yachi asks as her concern comes forward.

"Guys, before you hear the rumors, I need to tell you something about me that nobody else knows." I can't just do that! I'm not even being blackmailed, so why am I even telling these people? I don't know them that well! Maybe I do know them. Well enough to at least be comfortable to share who I am. Will this cause me to leave the teach? No! I can't tell them! I might lose my spot and be forced to join the female volleyball team! What am I thinking?!

"I don't want this to change our relationships with each other, especially since I'm the same Katsuo that I've ever been." My body begins to panic, not just mt mind. My hands shake like crazy as I collapse to my feet. I was weak, scared, and already sick of the rumors that had been going on for just a day. It only took a day for people to wanna bully me, so I guess whatever. man.

"I'm transgender."

Blank stares.

"Guys, what does transgender mean?" Hinata asks innocently.

"It means that Katsuo was born as a girl, but his mind is telling him that he's a boy." Kageyama responds in a matter-of-fact manner.

This only confuses Hinata, but Sugawara tells Hinata to not worry about it. He ultimately tells Hinata that I'm a guy and leaves it at that. Bless Hinata's innocent soul.

"I mean if you're a guy then just stay on this court." Takeda announces loudly from the other side of thecourt.

"Well, I will since I love it here, but can we please keep this between us? I'm already being bullied and I don't really want the bullying to progress." My voice started sounding more strained as my exhaustion starts to kick in.

"Whoever bullies you will get a piece of us!" Tanaka shouts, his anger and passion showing more than it always does.

"Yeah!" Nishinoya agrees. They both jump and show off their muscles which only causes me to laugh.

"Thank you guys. I never intended to tell you, but I wanted to get to it before the rumors spread."

Daichi walks up to me, the expression on his face solemn. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding. You're welcome to be open with us. We're all crazy goons with some sort of weird tale up our sleeves. We accept you for who you are." He holds out his hand for me to take.

Does he really expect me to stand up? I ask myself. I take his hand anyways and he pulls me to my feet. I stumble a bit but regain my ground kind of quickly.

"Let's continue to make memories as we should, alright? You're no different than before you told us. Nobody here will see you any different, alright?" Sugawara tells me. I nod, a small and weak smile crawling onto my face. I get to continue to work with this team, and nobody here sees me any different. Thank god.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

It’s discussed a lot about how Callum will react to Runaan when he gets out of the coin, but how do you think some of the other human characters would react to him? Like Soren, Amaya and Gren (it’s unclear if Gren ever actually *saw* Runaan, but for argument’s sake, let’s say he did.)

Ooh what a fun question, anon!

Let’s see, Soren. Well, by the time Runaan is freed, Soren will probably have had months or years as Rayla’s ally, even if he spends all his time with Ezran as his Crownguard. I also hope that Soren gets some real-world experience and education at the Storm Spire and in Lux Aurea before he returns to Katolis, if Ezran’s going to return to being king (which, idk, technically I think Soren’s king now, actually, as VIren’s heir, but that’s a whole ‘nother post). 

Soren is a genuinely warm guy. If he gets some time to learn about what Avizandum and Zubeia’s side of the war has been like, as well as Khessa and Janai’s, he’ll have a pretty balanced viewpoint on the conflict as a whole, which will make him a really solid adviser for Ezran, considering the training and actual battle experience he already has.

He may even contribute to the chain of events that frees Runaan, since he’s the one who put Runaan in the dungeon in the first place. His piece of the puzzle is that Runaan isn’t dead, and was imprisoned instead of being killed, and he knows exactly where and how, and also what Runaan looks like. He got a fistful of that long white hair, which is Runaan’s most distinctive physical trait (out of several, okay), so if anyone ever brings up that hair–Soren included–it’ll be obvious who’s being referred to, and that could direct various characters in their hunt/quest to free/locate him.

But what would he do upon seeing Runaan again? They’ll definitely remember each other. I think the key element will be this: time has passed eventfully for Soren, but it won’t have passed in the same way for Runaan. He’ll be stuck, trapped out of the world, alone with the same thoughts over and over again and no new input to help him grow and change. So Soren will probably have come a long way in his personal development, while Runaan won’t have done much more than spin in circles and rethink his choices.

I think the first thing Runaan would do is go on the defensive–or the offensive–with any weapon he can possibly get his hands on, and the first thing Soren would do is to hold up his hands and say, “Whoa there, Rayla’s Pointy Dad Number Two, I’m not gonna pull your hair this time. Promise. 

“And uhh, look. I wanna apologize on behalf of my dad. Viren. The old High Mage who kept you prisoner? I made some bad choices when I listened to him. And what he did to you was wrong. And I was wrong to help him. I thought I was helping my country when I did what he and my sister told me to do. But I ended up hurting people who didn’t deserve it. 

“And Rayla–she’s great, by the way, taught me how to sweep the leg and everything–she’s helped me understand a lot about myself.. Because she and I, we have a lot in common. Trying to do the best we can for our dads being one of those things, and all. 

“So, what I’m trying to say while you’re still deciding if you’re gonna stab me is this: I’m sorry. I’ve been to the Storm Spire, I’ve lived in Lux Aurea, and I, I get it now. The whole war thing. And, who we are inside it. People like you and me. Warriors, fighting to protect people we love. I’ve learned to see more than I ever thought I could. More than my dad wanted me to. 

“So… really please don’t stab me, because I’m just trying to do what my king says: we don’t have to fight back. We don’t have to continue the cycle. You killed my last king, and I couldn’t stop you. And, yeah, that still hurts, not gonna lie. But Ezran’s my king now. And I’d follow him to the ends of the earth. If… the earth… has ends. Geometry wasn’t my best class.  Anyway. So how about we talk, you and me, okay, just a couple of badasses, and we’ll try not to fall back on old habits, yeah? Cool. And… how many pushups do you think you can do?”

And Runaan hasn’t said a single word the whole time. He’s just let Soren go on and on and on. But Soren’s been paying attention to Rayla, trying to understand his new ally whenever he can. So he’s been very slowly stepping closer to Runaan, keeping his hands in sight and open, using Rayla’s mannerisms. And that whole message hits Runaan just as hard as hearing Rayla’s name on Soren’s lips. Soren does know Rayla. Knows her well. Things have changed. And he’s going to need to go slow so he doesn’t make a mistake. He’ll never let Soren into his blind spot, but he’ll play along after that show of information. He’ll look Soren up and down and say, “More than you can,” and Soren will grin like a little kid, because he’s just made peace instead of war, and he’s so proud of himself!

Aww, Soren is like hay. He���s great.

Amaya: afawk she hasn’t met Runaan directly, so unless they have some clashy backstory, Amaya’s attitude toward him will be a combination of “This dude killed my brother-in-law/king” and “this dude is my nephew’s girlfriend’s dad”.

By the time Amaya meets Runaan, she’ll know about Rayllum and how strong and steady it’s become. She’ll have Janai by her side. She’ll know about the power of love, and that overt aggression toward Runaan for taking Harrow won’t go over well with Rayla, and maybe not with Callum either. Plus, they’re all trying to move forward in peace, and her relationship with Janai is a big symbol of that. So on one hand, she’s a walking symbol of peace through love. And on the other, she can offer Runaan an olive branch to achieve peace through forgiveness.

A big influence is going to be how well Amaya and Rayla get along. I’d love to see Amaya teaching Rayla ASL because Rayla wants to be able to send silent messages. It’s a very Moonshadow form of communication, and Runaan talks a lot with his hands already, so Rayla’s primed for a new language there, I think. And the more time they spend bonding, the more Amaya’s tolerance will rise. 

She may have the hardest time forgiving Runaan, out of everyone. Callum has a huge heart. Ezran is a soft boy through and through. Soren would identify with Rayla pretty strongly, with their dark dads. Gren’s too nice not to feel for Runaan. But Amaya’s whole job has been defending Katolis from elves. And she failed, and her brother-in-law died at Runaan’s hands. So part of her hangup with him will be her own guilt. I’m not sure they’ll ever be friendly. 

Callum has more reason to hate Runaan than Amaya, but he’s young and in love with Runaan’s daughter, so he’s got motive and ability to be emotionally flexible. Amaya, for all her love of Janai, might not be quite as flexible toward a Moonshadow assassin whose actions put her nephew on the throne and destabilized Katolis, leaving it vulnerable to a coup and warmongering at Viren’s hands.

So, I think their meeting might go a bit like this: Amaya sees Runaan for the first time after he’s freed. It’s probably not immediately after. He’ll have a chance to find some shirts and eat something, probably heal up as much as he’s going to. And then they’ll come face to face. They’ll warily study each other for a long moment. And then Amaya will shrug and smirk, and Runaan will narrow his eyes, and she’ll punch him as hard as she can, and he’ll let her. Everyone will get caught off guard. Janai and Ethari, if they’re there, will step forward immediately to see to their partners and eye each other warily. But it’ll be Amaya and Runaan who tell them to calm down. Everything just got worked out, as much as it’s ever going to be.

Unless someone attacks Rayllum. Then I’ll get my cherished hc of Runaan and Amaya fighting back to back. It won’t matter what they’re fighting against. They’ll both be all in. Trusting Rayllum’s other stabby parent would definitely bond them more than anything else ever could.

And now for my sweet boy Gren: Gren is really empathetic, and he knows what Runaan’s last days before the coin were like. Gren had it easy--food, water, light, getting to stand up, not having to endure the odd magical experiment. Runaan wasn’t so lucky. We all saw the level of concern Gren had for his fellow prisoner down the hallway when Runaan started screaming. We saw his horror as he realized what Viren had done and how Runaan was still alive inside that creepy tiny prison coin. 

Gren probably didn’t get a very good look at Runaan in the coin, but he’s very good with voices, and he’d recognize Runaan’s in a heartbeat. He could hear everything he and Viren said down the hall. He knew to ask about Xadian fruit, which means he overheard the “Moonshadow elf thing” comment. He knew darn well that Runaan was a Moonshadow--could easily guess that he was one of the assassins--and he was still horrified at his fate. Gren doesn’t carry a weapon--he prefers to talk. And talk and talk and talk. I bet there are plenty of things Gren wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, and getting coined is one of them now.

So this poor soft dungeon boy, who called down the hall trying to get Runaan to chat and never got an answer, only heard him talking to Viren, what would his reaction be upon seeing Runaan again? Upon hearing him?

Gren would wait for all the “more important” people to speak to Runaan first. Janai, Amaya, Rayla and Callum. And then he’d step forward when Runaan was available and try to have a quick word. He’d stand mirroring Runaan, trying to use Moonshadow body language as best he could. Maybe he picked some of it up from Rayla. And he’d want to speak, but have no real idea what to say. 

“Hey. I’m glad you’re okay. What Viren did to you was... wrong. Really wrong. No one should have to go through that, no matter what. I... just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I... would’ve helped you out... but...” And here Gren gets caught up in his own memories. He’d tried to stay positive in the dungeon, and he could help himself all day long, but he couldn’t help the guy screaming down the hall. Gren’s no pushover, but that whole experience was really hard for him. The walls of that dungeon start to close in around him again.

“You did,” Runaan says. Reluctantly, but not unkindly. He was too busy trying to hunger strike to appreciate Gren’s overtures of friendliness, but once in the coin, Runaan had ages to contemplate every tiny detail of his imprisonment and what led to it. And Gren would be a bafflingly bright spot. No discernible motive. Just a soft, genuine human who tried to cheer Runaan up despite knowing who he was and what he had done.

And that’s all the encouragement Gren needs. He got to be helpful and communicate and do something good, and that’s all he’s ever wanted to do. He’ll glue himself to Runaan’s side for as long as the elf will put up with him, trying to learn as much as he can about Moonshadows. And Runaan will let him, for the most part, because the true measure of a person is how they treat someone who can do nothing for them. And when Runaan could offer Gren absolutely nothing in the dungeon, Gren offered him kindness and consideration. That’s worth a little bit of Moonshadow trust, and Gren will eagerly use what he leans from Runaan to aid in his ability to make peaceful overtures between Xadia and Katolis.

I think that in general, human reactions to Runaan will be muted by the existence of Rayllum. If Rayla weren’t his daughter, and if Callum weren’t her boyfriend, then I do think some characters would react more angrily to him. But Rayllum is bringing peace and holding it together as the first link, and no one wants to challenge that and cause war again over an enemy combatant who was doing his job by taking out a kingkiller. In the face of Rayllum’s peace and love, Runaan will probably get a bit softer of a landing than he deserves. The humans will get a chance to do what Ezran did: to forgive instead of striking back.

[zuppizup]

Beach

Obligatory beach ‘episode’. My only excuse is that it’s still stupid hot in Australia.

Summary: Rayla attempts to confront her fear of water.

Pairing: Rayla/Callum. hints of Amaya/Janai

Word Count: 2742

AO3 Link: Beach

—

Rayla looks out at everyone enjoying the beach. Ezran and Soren are trying to ensure Bait stays close to shore. The little glow toad is clearly enjoying his unlikely swim and is making numerous breaks for freedom.

Ezran frets about some sea monster getting a taste for his grumpy companion, continually directing Bait’s froggy paddle back towards shore.

Despite the warm afternoon sun, Rayla shivers, the memory of rushing after the little guy still making her anxious.

It was years ago now, but it still turns her stomach to think of those few minutes in the deep, dark lake. The feeling of being submerged in the murky waters still makes her heart race.

The oppressive crushing sensation of water all around her is something she still detests.

Her eyes drift to Callum, Amaya and Janai. They are swimming a little further out.

The sight of Callum so far from shore makes her heart race but she cannot tear her eyes away. She knows she is being irrational, that this whole water thing is ridiculous, but she truly cannot help it.

So, she elects to watch over him, despite her unease. If a sea monster attacks or he gets a cramp, she needs to be ready to spring into action.

For a supposed holiday, this trip has been anything but relaxing for her. The weather has been unseasonably hot and the only relief seems to be the glistening waters beside the summer retreat of the royal family of the Sunfire elves.

She sits in the shade of a tree, hot and uncomfortable. It probably doesn’t help that her clothing is traditional Moonshadow dark greens and navy, though she at least has short pants on leaving her legs exposed to the occasional breeze. Her hood and armour she has left back at the cabin.

Callum’s looks over at her and raises his hand in a wave. She smiles as she raises her own hand to return the gesture.

He says something to Amaya and Janai before he begins swimming towards shore.

Callum ruffles Ezran’s hair as he chats to him and Soren briefly on his way out of the shallows.

Rayla feels her heart skip a beat as he begins walking up the sand towards her, clad only in short, baggy pants. She’s still surprised at the changes in him while they’ve been away from each other. They try and see each other as often as possible but it’s not always easy. She is Dragon Guard while Zym is still young and his mage training frequently takes him away from extended periods.

This latest period apart has been one of their longest; over four months. In fact, she didn’t even think she would see him so soon but he had secretly asked Zubeia if she could have her birthday off. Before he even explained that Ezran, Amaya and Soren would be making a trip to Xadia the Archdragon had agreed happily. She was fond of all of them considering what they had done for her and her son.

It was handy having their birthdays close so they could celebrate together.

Callum had clearly spent the past few months training hard, though, he had been slowly gaining muscle ever since she met him. She hasn’t really thought it was something she cared about either way but the sight of him jogging up the beach to her, water glistening on his toned shoulders and bare chest makes her breath catch.

“Hi!“ He grins as he plonks down next to her, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

“Ahhh, get off me!” She protests out, pushing him away, grinning. “You’re all cold and wet.”

He chuckles, grabbing her around the waist and shaking his soaking hair. “You look like you need to cool down!”

“Stop!” She wriggles in an attempt to free herself, laughing hysterically. A year or two ago she might have succeeded but he’s noticeable stronger these days.

“Nope! I’m doing my princely duty and rescuing you from heat stroke.” He winks and her heart skips a beat. It’s not just his body that has changed these part four months. He has lost the last remnants of his teenage visage, his jaw now stronger, more pronounced. She can’t help but grin back at the cheeky glint in his forest green eyes. She had always thought him cute, even very early on (though she would have been loath to admit it), but he’s truly become handsome in recent years.

“You know, you don’t have to sit here with me.” She squeezes his hand. “I’m fine.”

He kisses her cheek before nuzzling her neck. “I want to be with you.”

Her pulse races as she leans back, looking him in the eye. “Honestly, I don’t mind if you want to go swimmin’ with everyone else. I’m happy just relaxin’ here. I don’t want to ruin your holiday.” While she truly wants him with her, she knows he rarely gets time to relax with his family and she does not want to get in the way of that.

He rolls his eyes. “Because you look super relaxed sitting all by yourself in the heat.” He tucks a strand of hair behind her delicately pointed ear, clearly enjoying the shiver the tender gesture elicits. “Rayla, the only reason I’m here is because I want to see you.”

“Oh really?” She grins. “Shall I tell Ezran and your aunt that?”

Callum snorts. “Ok, well maybe not the only reason but the main reason.” He slips a hand under her legs and swings them over his own, sighing. “Let’s never go that long without seeing each other again, deal?”

“Deal.” She presses her forehead against his before leaning forward to kiss him deeply.

“Grooooooooss! Get a room!”

They giggle into the kiss but are otherwise unperturbed by Soren’s playful taunting. Rayla makes an obscene human gesture Amaya taught her in the Crown Guard’s general direction without looking.

“That doesn’t work as well when you’ve only got four fingers.” Soren yells back.

They break apart, laughing.

“Who invited Soren?” Rayla asks sarcastically.

“Bait, I think.” Callum leans back on his hands as Rayla sprawls on the rug, her legs still draped over Callum’s.

They rest in companionable silence, Callum’s hand gently ghosting back and forth across her calves. She watches him through hooded eyes. He is smiling contentedly at the others, snorting in amusement every now and then. He looks uncomfortably hot though, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes often and wiping his brow.

Rayla takes a deep breath, looking out over the sparkling water. “Ok.“ She nods at him. “Let’s do this.”

Callum furrows his brow. “Do what?”

“It’s too hot and I’m sick of seeing you sweating. Let’s… let’s go into the water.” She swallows, looking him in the eye as she sits up.

Callum smiles softly, leaning forward to take her hand. “Rayla, it’s ok. I told you, I like hanging out with you.”

“It’s fine, Callum.” She nods reassuringly. “I… I want to. Seriously.”

He can’t help the small laugh that escapes his lips. “Em, you don’t sound that convincing.”

“Well, don’t expect me to go out far.” She looks at him seriously. “I’m just going to sit in the shallows but we can cool off at least.”

He sighs, gazing at her with a soft look in his eyes.

“Come on.” She gets to her feet and holds her hand out for him.

Callum allows her to pull him to his feet. “Are you sure?”

She rolls her eyes, stubbornly making her way to the shore. “I’m sure.”

She does permit him to catch up and before they make it to the gently lapping waters, she takes Callum’s hand in her own. He gives it a reassuring squeeze.

She smiles meekly, stepping forward into the water and sighing a little as the cool water laps her toes. “It feels ok, I guess.”

Callum smiles, stepping out deeper and turning to face her. “Just do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

She moves to sit down, before suddenly re-thinking. “You didn’t see anything gross in here, did you? Jellyfish or fish or crabs?”

Callum winces. “Well, I didn’t see any but…” He shrugs.

She considers this but elects to sit down anyway, Callum following suit. She rests with her legs pulls tight against her chest before slowly stretching them out into the water. After a beat, she shuffles forward a little so that the water comes up to her bellybutton.

Tentatively, she looks over at Callum, finding him beaming at her.

“Well done.” He leans forward, kissing her softly.

She rolls her eyes, trying to hide her discomfort. “I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Rayla.” He takes her hand under the water.

She looks over at Ezran and Soren, then Amaya and Janai. They have all moved a little further away from them and have turned their backs slightly. She’s known them all for years now and she knows they’re all well aware of her phobia.

She appreciates them not staring, yet it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing or shameful. She knows Callum and Ezran were right years ago when they told her it’s weird that Moonshadow elves never show fear but it’s hard to simply throw of years of cultural influence.

She shuffles out further, not letting go of Callum’s hand. The gradient is very slight which makes her feel a little more comfortable and in control. She is happier they are at a lake as well. The water is relatively placid, compared to a rushing river or wavy sea.

She keeps going until she is forced to stand in order to keep her head above the water. Callum moves around to stand in front of her, taking both her hands in his.

“Don’t push yourself.” He rubs his thumbs over the back of her hands.

“It’s not so bad.” She breathes, eyes resolutely down cast, searching the shimmering water for wildlife. She glances up at Callum and smiles at the attentive look on his face. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” He nods, continuing to follow her lead.

She steps forward once more, the water now lapping at her chest. Her foot connects with something solid and moving and she feels the terror rise in her chest.

She lets out a strangled “Eep” sound and launches herself at Callum, wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his middle in an effort to escape whatever it is that is down there.

“Rayla!” Callum calls out in shock as he wraps one arm around her waist and uses the other to steady himself. Miraculously, he manages to stay on his feet and keep both of them above water. “Are you ok? What’s wrong?” He shifts her a little, his free arm coming around to hold her as well.

“There’s something down there!” She squeaks into his neck, gripping him tightly.

Callum grunts from her crushing grip. Her arms are tight around his neck, but her legs are squeezing him almost painfully around the ribs. Not only does it make it hard for him to breathe but it is incredibly distracting. “Rayla,” He chuckles. “That was me.”

She leans back to look at him, her face centimetres from his. “What?”

He leans his forehead against hers. “That was my foot.”

“Oh.” She flushes. “…Sorry.”

“It’s ok.” He grins softly at her. “I wouldn’t mind some air though.” He gently squeezes her legs as he attempts to shift her weight.

She loosens her grip a little, looking somehow both embarrassed and miserable. She hides her face in his neck again. “I don’t want to put my feet down.” She grumbles.

“Here.” He uses one hand to guide her legs away from where they’re wrapped around him, guiding them so that she’s resting against his chest. He slips that hand under her knees and the other around her back, cradling her against him in a bridal hold. “That ok?” He presses his cheek against her head between her horns.

“It’s better...” She pulls him closer, her arms still gripping his neck tightly.

“Want to go back in?”

“No.” She sounds sullen.  

“Rayla,” He chuckles. “You are clearly not comfortable.”

“You like the water.” She sounds adorably grumpy.

He snickers. “I kinda like you being happy more.”

She shrugs and he elects to take that as a yes.

He carries her without protest until they are completely out of the water, at which point Rayla attempts to get down.

“Oh no,” He grins. “I’ve got you now. You have to let me get you to the rug at least.”

She rolls her eyes, glancing at the others.

“Hey, this is tradition.” He shifts her weight slightly.

“What?” She queries.

“Carrying someone like this.” He blushes. “It’s not an elf thing?”

“No,” She looks confused. “What kind of tradition is it?”

“Em, a good one.” He grins goofily. “Though if you don’t want Amaya to give us hassle, we should probably stay away from thresholds.”

She furrows her brow but elects to allow him to carry her to the rug. “Humans are so weird.”

Once they reach the rug, he lets her down gently.

Rayla sighs, wrapping her arms around her legs. Callum sits next to her and slings an arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple.  

She sighs. “At least we were able to cool off.”

Callum snorts. “Eh, not sure having you jump me like that fits my definition of “cooling off".”

She moves back to look at him, slapping his arm affectionately. “Callum!”

“What?!” He raises his eyebrows, laughing. “I haven’t seen you in months! I’m not a saint.”

She pouts mockingly, attempting to hide a grin. “Eugh, I can’t believe you took advantage of me in my moment of need.”

He wraps his arms around her waist, kissing her cheek. “I’m pretty sure you took advantage of me!”

She rolls her eyes, smiling lopsidedly before looking back out to where the others are still enjoying the sparkling waters. “I’m sorry. I thought I could do it.” She sighs.

Callum’s stomach drops. “Rayla, stop.” He pulls her closer against him. “I don’t want you to do that to yourself just because you think I want to swim or whatever.”

She shrugs. “I should be able to get over it.”

“People don’t just “get over" lifelong phobias.” He looks at her, though she is clearly avoiding his eyes.

She takes a deep breath before she glances at him. “You did.”

“What?” He looks at her, perplexed.

“You know, the heights thing?”

“Oh.” He flushes. “I thought I managed to hide that.”

She rolls her eyes, grinning softly. “You did not.”

“Huh, well, that’s not the same. I never liked heights, but I didn’t have a phobia. And anyway, you were there to reassure me.”

“Even with you I’m still too much of a coward to deal with water.” She looks away again.

“Seriously, stop it.” He sounds impatient before he takes a breath and starts again. “You saved Bait, didn’t you? And you sailed across the sea for Zym. When you need to, you face it. That doesn’t mean you have to enjoy the water.”

“You didn’t like heights and now you fly all the time. You managed to face it and now it doesn’t bother you anymore.” She bites her lip. “No matter how much I try I still hate the water.”

“Are you talking about the Storm Spire?” He pulls her around to look at him. “I wasn’t afraid of the height.” He ponders for a second. “Well, I was because it was stupid high, but I was more afraid of losing you.” He cups her cheek. “I’d have done anything to avoid that. I’ve lost so many people I love already; I couldn’t bear to lose another.”

She leans into his touch. “It was still stupid, and I still can’t believe you had never done that spell before you jumped, dummy.” Despite her harsh words, her cheeks are stained pink and she has a soft look in her eyes.

He narrows his eyes at her, grinning. “You do realise most people think that was insanely romantic, right?”

Rayla rolls her eyes as she slips her hands around his waist. “Most people are idiots.”

“Well, I guess you love an idiot then.” He smirks as he leans in to kiss her.

She grins, as she moves to kiss him back. “Pfft, I knew that before you threw yourself off a cliff.” 

[firesoulstuff]

Begin Again

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22530607

Behrad likes to think of the weirdness that comes with being a Legend as an integral part of the adventure. Alternate timelines and magical creatures? It’s all part of the reason he signed up. The other part at the time was, you know, if he didn’t Kuasa probably would’ve killed him within a week but he definitely stayed for the adventure.

Sure, he knows alternate timelines can get messy. He’s seen Stein accidently create a daughter, Amaya debate the pros and cons of leaving the ship, and Ray vanish before his eyes because of a lost alien baby. So up until this morning he would’ve said yes if asked if he’s ever been personally affected by a changing timeline, of course he has.

Now he knows that would’ve been a lie.

He takes a deep breath as he rounds the corner into the engine room. He had checked his room for her, and then even Nate’s, and then Charlie’s, but Zari wasn’t any of those places. But she is here, in the hideaway he likes to claim as his own whenever he wants to be alone. He hasn’t mentioned that to her.

She looks up as he approaches, her eyes drawn first to his face and so he gives her a tight grin, and then she looks down to the dab pen in his hand.

“Wanna hit?” He offers, holding the pen out to her.

She smiles, small and humoring, and takes the pen and twirls it around in her fingers before she looks back up at him.

“You know, I don’t think a timeline has ever existed where you haven’t been a stoner.”

He chuckles, and as she takes her hit he ducks his head under the overhanging pipe and sits down next to her. She passes the pen back to him as she breathes out a short cloud of vapor, and he smiles to himself. They’ve never done this before. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure coming in here if she smokes, even if this isn’t technically smoking. He’d taken a gamble, and he’s glad he did; this is nice.

He takes a hit himself and sits back, as much as he can against the pipes running behind them anyway. She keeps her focus on the ground as he blows out a much longer stream. Maybe she only took the hit for the purpose of humoring him, which wouldn’t bother him. In fact it might even be considered a step in the right direction; she’s never humored him before.

“So.” He says, tapping his hands on his legs. “What I got from all that is in the old timeline, you were me.”

She hums, “Minus being stoned as often as Rory is drunk.” She amends for him, “And prettier.”

He laughs, and there’s a teasing little twinkle in her eye he doesn’t think he’s seen in a long time.

“I’ll accept the first one, not my fault you don’t know how to unwind in any reality. But the second? We both know I’m the pretty one.”

She laughs as he raises his eyebrows at her and so dose he, trying to drink all of this moment in. He hasn’t seen Zari like this in a very long time. Off her phone and actually giving him the time of day, living in the real world rather than in her head in “Zari Land” as he’s come to call it over the years. It’s nice.

“You know,” He says, “I know the whole ‘alternate timeline’ is a lot to take in, but it’s kind of cool when you think about it. I mean there was a version of history where you were a Legend. Isn’t that cool?”

She chuckles, ducking her head and moving a piece of hair behind her ear. He grins as he watches her. Yes, his eyes are seeing the perfect manicure of her nails push back black hair that’s interrupted with golden highlights, but his mind is picturing the alternate Zari he’s been shown. A Zari who never messed with the hair their mother always said was so beautiful, who kept her fingernails short and didn’t mind much if they were a little dirty from working in this room. A Zari who wore loose flannels as more than pajamas.

A Zari, he thinks, he would’ve gotten along with.

“I guess.” She admits, “I can definitely see the appeal of this place, traveling through time and saving the world and all.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, “It’s pretty great.”

And suddenly an idea comes to his mind.

Well, maybe not suddenly. It’s been in the back of his mind since they found out about the old timeline. But now it’s at the forefront, because this is going well and maybe it isn’t so crazy.

“You know…” He trails, “Now that you know about who you used to be, you could stay. Be a Legend again.”

She scoffs, but it’s more with amusement than dismissal, and he’ll take that.

“What?” She asks, “This me couldn’t be a Legend?”

He doesn’t miss the challenging dip in her voice, the dare for him to be honest.

“No…” He trails, and he isn’t sure if he’s saying no she couldn’t, or no he didn’t mean that. “Come on Zari, up until now you’ve had different priorities than-”

“Different priorities?” She interrupts, and he freezes with his mouth still open with his next words. “What, you mean like rent?”

“Not exactly.” He huffs, willing the anger to stay out of his voice.

“And who says my ‘priorities’ changed because of a dead timeline?” She interjects, “I’m still me.”

“But the you in that timeline was a hero.” He tries to reason, also trying to get this conversation back on track. “Don’t you want to be that person again?” She opens her mouth but says nothing. He keeps quiet as well, and tries to think of what he can say next.

“No.” She eventually says with a shake of her head, “No, I don’t.”

He smiles, but there is no joy in it. It’s a smile of shock, of anger, when his face doesn’t know what else to do.

“Unbelievable.” He mutters as he stands up. “Unbelievable. All the good you did as a Legend. You don’t want to be that.”

“Of course I do.” She argues, standing up herself.

“You just said you didn’t!” He reminds her, and he rounds on her as he does. “I just asked you-”

“What you asked me is if I would rather be the person I was in that timeline-”

“You mean someone who cares about more than views and likes?” He all but shouts, “Someone who cares about other people?”

“I am not having this conversation.” She grumbles, and she turns and starts to march away, but now he is seeing red.

“Fine!” He shouts after her, “Run away, back to Zari land where nobody else matters!”

He’s said that to her in the heat of plenty of arguments before, and she has always stomped off to not care somewhere else. But this time is different. This time she stops.

And she turns back, with a look in her eye of “you’ve fucked up” that he has only ever before seen on Papa.

“You want to talk about nobody else matters?” She asks, and she takes one step back towards him. “Listen to yourself.” She near pleads, continuing closer. “You are seriously mad that I wouldn’t trade this life for that one, and why? Because you liked the outcome better?” It feels like a rock has settled in his chest all of a sudden, and with another step back to him she drives it in deeper.

“Were you not paying any attention to those memories?” She demands, “You died. Mama and Papa died. That me, that was a person who lived running from soldiers. That was a world where meta humans were hunted and killed. Where we were told praying was radical and rebellious, and it was outlawed. That me almost suffocated an entire village because I was so angry!”

Her breath hitches, and he can’t remember the last time – if ever – he saw Zari cry, but it’s threatening to be now.

She takes a minute to compose herself, to wipe her eyes and cross her arms in front of her.

“Do you really wish I’d gone through all that?” She asks, and he wants to scream No.

He wants to cry himself, to tell her he’s sorry and he never meant it like that.

“I just… I just want my sister back.”

She holds his gaze at first, and opens her mouth like she is going to say something, but instead all she does is turn back and walk away.

He beats himself up over it for a little over an hour, during which time there are thankfully no disasters. He doesn’t see her in that time, and a part of him wonders where she’s gone. She’s been staying in his room since she got here but she isn’t there when he goes, and she doesn’t come, and when he goes to Nate’s room she isn’t there either.

But, thankfully, Nate is.

He gives a small grin when his buddy looks at him with an almost fear in his eyes, like he has been waiting for him to come in here with a shovel for daring to go after his sister in an alternate timeline.

“Can we talk?” He asks, and Nate gapes at him for a few seconds before he finally starts to shake off the apparent surprise of the question.

“Uh… Sure. Sure.”

Behrad grins and goes and sits at the foot of Nate’s bed. Nate joins him soon after, though neither of them speak right away.

“You…” Behrad finally starts when he thinks he has organized enough of his thoughts. “Would you… If she could just… turn back, into the person she was in the dead timeline, would you want Zari back? The version you knew?”

Nate looks more than a little taken back by the question, and Behrad stays silent while he thinks.

“You know, I don’t think so.” He eventually says, “I mean, I don’t know her as well in this timeline, but I don’t think she’s any different. She’s lived different things, she’s done different things, she’s made different choices. But at the end of the day I think Zari is still Zari.”

He tries to hear that, he really does, but ultimately Behrad still finds himself rolling his eyes.

“Yeah well, I don’t think the Zari who sacrificed herself for the good of the timeline is the same Zari who freaks out when she gets less views than the college roommate she didn’t even like.”

“Except she didn’t sacrifice herself for the timeline.”

Behrad looks at his friend, about to insist that he has it wrong, but there is something about the puzzled expression on Nate’s face that keeps him quiet.

“She was on the ship.” He says; his face still scrunched up as he sorts through the information Gideon gave to them earlier, until he finally nods with confidence. “She was on the ship so that she would be safe from the changes, at least enough so that whatever happened she would still be a Legend. But then I died, and she came after me.”

Right.

That is what Gideon said.

“Ok, but that proves my point even more.” He says, “That Zari risked her own life even when she wasn’t sure if she could save yours, but she had to take the chance. This Zari? She spent my entire high school graduation posting it to Instagram.”

“Did you even come to mine?”

He and Nate both look up, and Zari is standing in the open door. She has small tear tracks running down her face, and for that Behrad can’t help but feeling just a little bit guilty.

Awkwardly, Nate gets up.

“I’ll uh… I’ll leave you guys alone.”

On his way out of the room Behrad isn’t blind to the silent exchange of… something, happening with his best friend and his sister. It’s short, and nothing more than an exchange of glances that puts a grateful smile on Zari’s face. He feels an obligatory surge of protectiveness flare up in his chest but he ignores it. He has actual problems to deal with here.

He waits for Nate to leave, and for Zari to turn her attention back to him.

“I was nine.” He says, and she nods.

“I know.”

She sighs, and she comes and lowers herself onto the edge of the mattress.

“You were nine, and your friend had tickets to a hockey game. My graduating class was only twenty-something kids and Mama and Papa felt bad making you miss it for an hour ceremony, so they said you could go.”

“So what?” He asks, “You’re mad a nine-year-old missed your graduation?”

“No.” She says, shifting so that she is sitting crisscross on the bed and looking directly at him. “I am trying to remind you that you were nine. Then I was off at school and you were ten, and by the time I got home you were a teenager, and you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“You didn’t want anything to do with me!”

“Because I was growing up, Behrad!” She nearly pleads with him, her face falling into her hands for a moment before she looks up again.

“I had no idea what I was doing with my life and I was trying to figure it out! Yeah, I took what I knew and I ran with it, and maybe I do get a little carried away sometimes. But I’m not seventeen anymore, and you are not the little kid who was always creeping in the background of my videos.”

He chuckles, a little, because he did have a reputation as a child for doing that. But more than that he supposes she does have a point. Really, they haven’t been a part of each other’s lives since before she left for college. Nine years is a big age gap, and besides, he can certainly understand now how hard it is to grow up.

He ran away on a time machine for crying out loud.

“Ok, so maybe my teenage angst played a part in my not having you around.” He admits, and she snorts a small laugh. He holds out a hand to her, which at first she only stares at.

“Try to be a little less ‘Zari Tarazi’ the influencer, and I’ll try to be a little less of a jerk?”

She bites her lip, a playful look of consideration on her face before she finally accepts his hand.

“Deal.”

He smiles as he shakes her hand, and then that smile turns into a wicked grin.

“One thing you’re gonna have to get used to if you’re planning to hang around.” He warns, and she raises a curious eyebrow.

“What’s that?”

He feels his grin go from wicked to downright evil.

“Legends are huggers.”

She squeals out a very un-coherent protest as he leans forward and yanks her into what is without a doubt the least awkward - and most toppling involved – hug they have ever shared.

[chloe-clegane]

My Devotion and Mah Protection, Our Love - Chapter 5

My Favorite Gift is You

Summary - It’s Royal Announcement day!

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

AO3

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A few days later they celebrated Ezran’s birthday. The desserts flowed freely, in fact, there were no other meals, just dessert. The whole eating unwholesome foods in extreme portion sizes was no joke. Contributing to the overload of sweets made Rayla feel a bit… unethical? Enabling? Disgusted? Her own misgivings aside she knew Ezran would appreciate her idea for an Ultimate Deluxe Super Moonberry Surprise Cake, it would be the perfect gift… if she could pull it off.  

Rayla woke up early that morning and after some kissing and cuddling with her favorite human, she met with Barius. She explained her vision and the baker was a little distressed when he realized she didn’t have an actual recipe. But he was able to approximate what she described. Barius insisted that he should make the sponge. But figured she would be able to execute the filling and frosting easily enough. She figured it couldn’t be that hard so she followed instructions and got to work.

Most of Ezran’s day was spent with Zym, he’d flown to Katolis with an escort of three skywing dragon guards. He was only able to stay for 2 days so he and Ez were getting in as much quality time as possible. When Rayla left the kitchens to go find her family, she was shocked to see Ezran riding Zym. The dragon had grown considerably in the almost 3 years since he’d hatched and was bigger than a horse now, but Rayla still couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The two kings zipped around the castle towers and through the clouds, Ez whooping and Zym happily chirping. 

Rayla came up behind Callum and took his hand, he turned his attention from the sky to smile at her. She gazed up with him “Been quite a’while hasn’t it, since all this started. Funny how they’ve both grown up so much but still somehow managed to stay exactly the same. A couple o’goof balls.” 

Callum chuckled “Yeah, it’s true.” He smiled and brought her hand up to place a kiss on it. “The world has changed so much, but somethings, the people you love, they stay the same. Like how amazing you are for example.”  

As always his words warmed Rayla’s heart but when he leaned in to kiss her she wiped her head back up to the sky when she saw the aerial duo heading into a tower, grazing it and thankfully not smacking into it full force. “Oye!!! EZ!!! TOWER!!!!” Rayla screamed up at the teen.

“WE’RE OK!” He yelled down and waved, Zym nodded in agreement. 

“DON’T BREAK YOUR NECK! I WILL BE SO PISSED!” Callum screamed back. Some of the color drained from his face. “PAY BETTER ATTENTION!” He looked like he was ready to go all mage wings and bring his brother down himself.

Amaya also looked distressed. Frustrated she wasn’t able to scream after him she nudged Janai to make girlfriend do it for her. Even Bait had turned purple. 

“Teenagers are stupid” Rayla sighed. 

“Hey, we weren't... technically still aren’t” Callum defended. 

“Seriously? We’re just lucky our bullshit paid off” She laughed “I climbed the side of that” She pointed “wall. Thinkin’ I could kill a child in cold blood, almost fell to mah death about three times doin’ it. And you kept playin’ with lightnin’ even though you din’ know what you were doin’, nearly killed me I might add!” 

He chucked “But I didn’t kill you! So it’s fine.”

“Oh you’re right, that makes everythin’ fine. Wasn’t stupid at all.”  

He pouted at her sarcasm but then narrowed his eyes at her “Human Rayla”.

“Don’ go there! I was amazin’ at that! How about Elf Callum or WiNtEr LoDgE, nO wInTeR, nO hUmAnS?”

“Owch” he glared “you've made your point and we should definitely stop this there. I still want you to marry me and I worry this conversation won’t end well.” 

She laughed “Aww you’re less stupid now” she cood and he continued to glare back at her. But held her hand anyway. She squeezed it “Like I said, lucky. Our stupidity might save the world.” 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and they continued to nervously watch the air show, screaming every time the teens tried to do barrel rolls and loops. The March day was cooled by the breeze but warmed by the sun, winter was truly at its end and the group enjoyed welcoming the spring.

Soon it was 3rd dessert meal (second lunch?) and the group had it out in one of the courtyards as a picnic. This was the planned time for presents and so everyone had their wrapped packages or hidden gifts with them. Apparently, hand made was a theme. After all, what do you buy for a king? Amaya and Janai were the only ones who didn’t make their gift. It was a sunforged dagger. His aunt felt at 13, it was about time he had his own weapon. Ezran looked a little intimidated by it but thanked them nonetheless.  

Soren went second, his surprise was a shockingly not terrible ceramic statue of Ez and Zym hugging. The sculpture wasn’t good, but you could tell who the figures were supposed to be so Rayla felt that the dumb oaf had at least accomplished the goal. Ezran was a little confused but when he figured it out he seemed to really enjoy it. Bait was entirely unimpressed by it, and maybe a little jealous it wasn’t him made in clay. 

Callum was also miffed that Soren had made an art project, he muttered into her ear “art is my thing!” She laughed and rolled her eye’s at him. Her fiance’s gift was of extremely better quality, so if it was a competition he still won, but if cake counts as art Rayla thought this could be a very close race. Callum had done a detailed color pencil drawing and had it framed, it was a family portrait. Ezran sat in the front and Rayla and Callum stood behind him, each with a hand on his shoulder and Bait was in his lap of course. This art piece was much better received by the glowtoad than Soren’s. 

Ethari had made a simple bracelet of silver and purple braids. It was the kind of thing Rayla knew he could make easily and quickly with tools he probably borrowed. It was modest but as always the workmanship was impeccable. Ezran thought it was amazing. 

Finally, it was her turn, she rolled the huge cake around the corner on a tea cart. 

Ezran gasped. “Rayla it looks delicious! Give it, give it!” He reached out scrunching his fists. 

She laughed as she cut him a generous piece. The purple sponge and gooey red filling looked great! She felt a little smug as she handed Ez the slice. He took a huge bite and his face scrunched, he coughed a little. Rayla felt her face fall, why did he look like that, she wondered. Then Ezran smiled and kept nodding. “Wow Rayla, it’s so… thoughtful of you to make this, wow!” 

“Do you like it!?” she asked cautiously. 

“Mmmmhmmmm” he continued to nod. 

Everyone else cautiously sampled it, everyone started gagging. 

Soren hadn’t caught on to everyone's hesitancy and took a large bite, his response felt overly dramatic “Ugh blah” He spit it directly on the ground. “That’s terrible. hack hack. I think it’s poison! I’m too young to die!”     

Rayla looked hurt but then crossed her arms and scowled at her friend “Wow Soren you’re sure bein’ an arse about this. I go to all this trouble, and you can’t even be nice? It can’t be that bad.” Now she stupidly took a huge bite and was immediately filled with regret, “so salty! Egh, what did I? Water!?”. She realized Ethari had never even taken a bite of his piece, his lack of faith was added salt in the salty, salty wound. 

“Rayla, it’s ok. I really appreciate it!” Ezran tried to comfort her but she had already stormed away red faced and humiliated. 

Ezran found Rayla outside “That squirrel was right, you are in a tree!”.

She and her bruised ego were hiding. When she saw him she turned away “just leave me with mah shame!” 

He started climbing, it took him a minute but he made it up and nudged her so he could sit next to her. Luckily it was an old sturdy tree. “I meant it when I told you I appreciated the effort.” 

Rayla made a noise somewhere between a whine and a chuckle and tossed her head back “Thanks, but also I’m still sooooooo sorry”  

“Seriously Rayla.” He insisted. “But you know what my real favorite present is?” 

She still had her eyes up and her shoulders slumped “Hmmmm Soren’s statue was pretty good... very lifelike” her words were heavily laced with sarcasm. 

“You know? I do like it” he smiled “Soren put a lot of effort into it, same as you. Want to guess again?!”

She took a moment to think “Well I know it wasn’t the fire dagger, I’m pretty sure yer afraid of it.”

He laughed “yeah, you got me there. But really, my favorite gift, is’s you Rayla.”

This time she actually righted her posture and made eye contact. “Me? What do you mean, me?” She was honestly confused.

“Yeah, you. When you guys came and told me you're getting married, it was such a good surprise. My favorite thing out of all of this is knowing in a few months you’ll really be my sister.” she felt her prickly mood soften as he continued “In a way, I’ve already thought of you like that for a long time. But now, it’s real and official! Best birthday ever!” His sincerity, something she’s always loved about him, was acting as a salve on her wounded pride. 

“Oh, Ez” Rayla smiled, his sentiment was humbling and she exhaled some of her negativity “I feel the same way about you, I’m happy to have you as a brother too. Now come’ere.” She pulled him into a hug and they stayed together for a while kicking their tangling feet and talking. Catching up about all kinds of things. He told her weird stuff animals say sometimes and that he met their shadowpaws. Apparently they’re both very nice but don’t think they’re getting nearly enough fish. Rayla made a mental note. He also confided in her some of his worries. There had been rumors about underground meetings to talk about hating and not trusting elves. Now that ambassadors and scholars have started visiting Katolis, and now… her, not everyone is happy about it. Rayla thought about keeping the procession incident to herself but decided to fess up about it. He understood why she didn’t want to worry anyone but they both ended up going quiet for a bit to sit in their worry. It always broke Rayla’s heart to see these things on his shoulders, he was too young to carry so many burdens like this. So she broke the tension with a few jokes and they hugged before returning to the group for 5th dessert (dinner?). 

After a few more days in Katolis it was time for everyone to part ways. It was decided that the Wedding would be in 3 months, as they wanted at the Moon Nexus. With the mages disappearing suspiciously and Aaravos and Viren’s location unknown, they had to be careful about having politically important guests all in one place. The exact date and location would be kept private and invitations would be hand-delivered along with illusion medallions to the human rulers. Lujanna would be assisted in creating a burrier hiding the Nexu, similar to the one that protects the Silvergrove. 

The public announcements of the marriage would be made when things were settled. After that Rayla would be made an official Princess of Katolis. That scared her, absolutely boggled her mind. Never in her life had she thought things would turn out like this for her. The most terrifying part was the fact that until Ezran had his own heir, which at 13 was a long way off, Callum would be next in line for the throne, which would make her a queen. That thought was horrendous for a number of reasons. But for every negative or worry Rayla’s joy and excitement was tenfold. 

Ethari went home to the Silvergrove and Rayla and Callum left for Lux Auria with Amaya and Janai. Callum worked on his fire spells and she helped investigate the 3 Sunfire elf mages who had disappeared. She traveled alone a few times to the Silvergrove to visit Ethari, flying on a twin tail tooth tiger, courtesy of Janai, made the trips easy. The more things came together, the details, her vows, the dress, everything felt more and more real. Soon she’d be bound forever to her best friend, and it was the most spectacular thing she could imagine. She was counting down the days, they both were.

[lilithrebellion]

Lilith Rebellion Chapter 10 Preview

Happy New Year! Here’s your gratuitous make-out scene.

Yeah, anyway I couldn’t wait until the chapter was done so you’re getting the first part early. Also 2019 was the 100th anniversary of Yuri, so here’s to starting off the new era right, and to many more wlw works to come!

Relationship (F/F): Yui Komori/Amaya Yuuki (OC) Content: Asexual Relationship, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Cuddling and kissing, Everything is fluff and nothing hurts, all the consent, stupid flirty Amaya

Soon enough, the two were walking through the door of Amaya’s apartment.

“Ahh, it’s so good to be back!” she said, clearly in high spirits as she stepped up from the entryway.

“Are you sure it was really alright to leave without saying anything?” Yui asked as she followed after her.

She shrugged before heading into the bedroom to drop off her bag. “I left a note.”

Said note was just a piece of paper taped to Yui’s door that read “Went out. Be back Monday. XOXO. Amaya and Yui.”

Yui sighed. She could already tell that Amaya’s message was not going to be well received. “When they see that, I just know they’ll—”

“Okay, that’s enough of that!”

Yui's sentence was cut off when Amaya gently pressed a finger to her lips. “We came here so that we could take a break from all of that. So how about for the next couple of days, they just don’t exist?”

Yui blinked. “They don’t exist…?”

Amaya smiled. “Exactly. Besides, we don’t need their permission to do anything. So you don’t need to worry about what they think or if they’re gonna be mad. Because that doesn’t matter!”

As soon as she heard those words, Yui felt the remaining uncertainty being washed away. She nodded and placed her bag on the bedroom floor beside Amaya’s. “Yeah, you’re right. Then, is there anywhere you want me to put my things?”

“Wherever you want. There’s plenty of space.”

“Okay.” Yui then knelt down to unzip her bag and took out her nightgown. It was around the time when they usually went to sleep so she should probably get changed for bed. However, it occurred to her that Amaya was right next to her and she began wondering if it was alright to change in front of her.

Yui glanced over to see that Amaya had already taken off her jacket and was hanging it up in the closet. She glanced back at her for a second and then they both blushed before quickly looking away again.

Yui stood with her nightgown clutched to her chest, trying to think of the best course of action. Well they were both girls, so it should be fine for them to change in front of each other. Except that Amaya was attracted to women. But that shouldn’t matter, should it? And besides, they were dating so did that make it extra okay? Or maybe…

Before she could decide, she felt a hand on her wrist and she was pulled to the side. Yui yelped in surprise as she was thrown onto the bed. She barely had time to process what was happening as Amaya climbed on top of her, knees around her hips, palms on either side of her head. Yui felt her face heat up at the intimacy of their position. She hadn’t expected Amaya to do something so forward.

“Yui,” the tenderness with which Amaya said her name had Yui’s heart slamming against her chest as she stared up breathlessly at the earnest passion burning in her eyes.

“You said that I should be more honest about my feelings so…”

She took a shaky breath, her cheeks reddening as well.

“Yui, I love you. But just saying it isn’t enough. I want to show you exactly how I feel. I want to kiss you, to touch you, to hold you tight and never let go...” She briefly looked away, still clearly nervous. “I-Is that okay?”

Her voice was so soft and sweet, it made Yui feel like she might melt right then and there. She smiled and reached up to place her hand behind Amaya’s head.

“Of course it is.”

With that, Amaya leaned down for a kiss as Yui pulled her closer. Their lips pressed together, more insistent than ever before. Love filled every inch of her with a pleasant warmth as she enjoyed the feeling of Amaya’s hands running through her hair and her labored, airy breathing as their lips came together and parted over and over, alternating between deep and soft.

Yui let out a soft moan as she felt Amaya’s chest press against her. Although modest in size, the slight softness still had her mind spinning wild with desire. She draped her free hand across her back, wanting to bring them even closer together.

Gradually, Amaya began moving away from her lips to press kisses along her cheek and jaw, working her way down to her neck. Yui tilted her head to the side to give her more room, becoming completely undone at her girlfriend’s gentle touch.

Girlfriend…

The word made Yui’s heart flutter with joy.

That’s right, she was her girlfriend now. The happiness that followed upon that realization was nearly overwhelming.

A small gasp escaped her lips at the feeling of Amaya's fangs brushing against her skin. It didn’t seem intentional and Yui knew that she would never bite her, but it was still enough to give her a not unwelcome sense of thrill, like an arc of electricity through her veins. She tightened her grip around Amaya’s shoulders, as if doing so might keep her grounded amidst her bubbling emotions.

“Does that feel good?” Amaya whispered, her breath tickling her skin.

“Mm…” Yui nodded lazily, too caught up in her own ecstasy to say anything else.

“Okay, then let’s try something else.”

Hearing the bed creak as Amaya pushed herself off of her, Yui opened her eyes curiously to see her settling into a kneeling position before her legs. What was she planning?

Amaya met her eyes, smiling with a hint of mischief as she reached forward to lift up her leg. And then leaned down to plant a kiss on her inner thigh near her knee.

“Ah!” Yui cried out, taken completely by surprise at the boldness of Amaya’s actions. For someone who usually got flustered so easily, it all seemed to be coming out of nowhere. Although, she didn’t hate it.

Amaya smirked, clearly amused by her reactions, and again placed her lips against the increasingly sensitive area.

“Nn…” Yui trembled, her heart hammering in her chest as she reached up to grasp at the pillows with what little strength she had left. But it didn’t do much to make the waves of pleasure from each delicate little kiss any more bearable.

Glancing back down, Yui suddenly felt a jolt of apprehension when she noticed that Amaya’s kisses were slowly nearing…a certain area. Yui tensed, the suggestiveness of it making her stomach do flip flops. She wasn’t exactly sure how two girls were supposed to, well…go all the way, and although she loved it when Amaya kissed her, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to do that with her.

Despite how her breath was coming out in hot, heavy pants, Yui tried her best to form a coherent sentence. “I thought you said…you weren’t interested in…that kind of thing…”

Amaya paused to look at her questioningly. She then glanced down and her eyes widened in realization before looking back up to meet her eyes in reassurance. “I won’t go that far but…” She delicately placed her fingers on the back of her thigh. Yui shivered at the coolness against her burning skin. “There’s plenty of other ways to pleasure you, right?” Amaya said far too seductively as she gently traced her fingers up to the back of her knee.

Yui let out a gasp and couldn't help but squirm at the sensation of that impossibly light touch. She bit her lip and averted her eyes, her resolve crumbling before her girlfriend’s newfound flirtatious side.

Amaya’s expression returned to one of hesitation as it occurred to her that maybe Yui wasn’t as receptive as she had originally thought. She started to set down her leg. “If you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t—”

“…Don’t stop.”

“What…?”

Yui’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t keep the words from spilling out. “…It feels really good so don’t stop.”

Amaya smiled. “Alright then.” With that, she leaned in again and continued to trail feather-light kisses along her legs.

“Ah-hnn...” Clamping a hand over her mouth, Yui tried to prevent herself from making any more strange noises, but a few whimpers still managed to escape.

Amaya giggled softly against her thigh, which did not help the situation whatsoever. “You can be as loud as you want, you know? It’s not like anyone else will hear you.”

Yui was sure her face was about twenty different shades of red. “... It’s still embarrassing.”

Amaya hummed and made her way back up until she was leaning over her again. “Well I think you sound adorable.”

Yui didn’t get a chance to reply before Amaya sealed their lips again, turning her indignant squeak into a heavy moan with another deep kiss that left her breathless all over again.

By the time Amaya pulled away, Yui had been reduced to little more than a blushing, gasping mess beneath her. She smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and smiled in satisfaction, a devious glint in her eyes and one fang peeking out of her mouth in a devilish yet frustratingly cute manner.

Slightly annoyed that she was just letting Amaya have her way with her, Yui shot a glare up at her. Although it probably came out looking like a pout at best, Amaya’s expression turned startled all the same.

Not wasting a moment, Yui reached up and pushed as hard as she could. Amaya yelped as she was now the one being flipped onto her back. Before she could recover, Yui pinned her by her shoulders and dove down to deliver a kiss of her own.

“Mn!?”

The angle was a bit off since she had moved in so fast, but it still did the job. When Yui lifted her head, she was treated to the sight of Amaya rendered speechless as she lay below her, wearing that lovely flustered expression that had captured her heart.

Yui took a deep breath and despite her own embarrassment, spoke to her in a serious voice. “I-I don’t want to just be receiving your love. I want to show you how much I love you too!”

Amaya’s eyes went wide in awe. But soon enough, her smile shifted to become playful again. “Hm? So you want to try taking the lead?”

She tilted her head slightly, making Yui's heart tighten at how painfully alluring she looked with her dark hair spread out against the pillows. “Then, how about you kiss me again?”

Drawing in a shaky breath, Yui leaned down and did just that.

She kept it soft and sweet, wanting to convey to Amaya just how earnest her feelings were. Just in case she still had any further doubts. Yui was determined to dispel them right now and spell out in no uncertain terms that she was absolutely worthy of her love, and that she wouldn’t rather have anyone else by her side.

It seemed to work, as she sensed a tiny shudder run through Amaya’s body and heard her let out a contented sigh.

Seconds later, Amaya was wrapping her arms around her waist as she slid her hands up her back and sides beneath her shirt, earning another unsuppressed moan from Yui’s lips at how the coolness of her touch was amplified against her feverish skin.

Not to be outdone, Yui cupped Amaya’s face in her palms and gently caressed her cheeks and neck. Amaya squeezed her tightly in return, and Yui felt her purr happily against her continued kiss.

She was sure Amaya could feel how heated she was, and although she knew she couldn’t warm up the same way, it didn't stop Yui from trying her best to do so anyway.

“You know…ahh…if you're hot you can just…nn…take it off…”

Yui pulled back with a start, the suggestion nearly making her heart stop.

Amaya reddened in embarrassment under her gaze, her voice turning into a stutter. “Y-you don’t have to…uh…I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I said that…”

Smiling at her nervousness, Yui pushed herself up onto her knees and although her hands were shaking, began to lift up her shirt. Amaya had sat up as well and watched with fascination as Yui pulled off her sweater, and then her shorts, discarding both over the side of the bed and leaving her in a slightly frilly pale blue bra and matching panties.

She felt self-conscious at first, but that quickly disappeared once she saw how Amaya was looking at her. Her eyes shining and filled with awe, as if she were in the presence of an angel from heaven.

Feeling it was unfair that she was the only one in such an exposed state, Yui smiled and reached forward to grip the hem of Amaya’s shirt.

Her eyes widened for a second before nodding for her to continue. Before her nerves could get the better of her, Yui pulled her shirt off over her head and unzipped her shorts, revealing simple black undergarments. She left her stockings on though, liking the way they accentuated the shape of her thighs.

Yui drew in a sharp breath as she fully took in the sight before her, eyes sweeping over her subtle curves, lingering a bit longer at the swell of her breasts. Her smooth skin almost seemed to glow in the moonlight, giving her an ethereal kind of beauty.

Amaya shifted shyly under her gaze and shrunk into her shoulders a little, although this simply succeeded in making her boobs squish together in an even more enticing manner.

“Don’t stare at me so much…it’s embarrassing…”

Heart melting again at the softness in her voice, Yui moved forward to gather her up in a warm embrace. “Sorry, I was just thinking how lucky I am to have met you.”

“Really?” Amaya said, hugging her back and burying her face into the crook of her shoulder. Her whispers were gentle beside her ear. “Because how I see it, I think I’m definitely the lucky one.”

Yui slowly loosened her grip to meet her eyes and the two shared a tender look before coming together in another passionate kiss as they fell back against the sheets.

It would be an unforgettable night for the both of them as they eventually drifted off to sleep, hands clasped together and still tangled up in each other’s arms.

=====

End Notes:

Number of times author’s soul left her body while writing this: too many to count.

Also I’ll just go yeet myself into the ocean now because what the Hell am I saying!?!??!

This isn’t even the whole chapter how will I survive....

[rorykillmore]

okay so it’s @propheticnightwing‘s birthday today!!  she didn’t really ask for anything because her family’s keeping her busy but i wanted to make sure she got a little gift anyway, so i wrote a little bit of rp fic!

this is... in honor of ratchet/naruto, a panfandom ship that she and jay have working hard to build up to and that has been a long time coming. i figured with me potentially dropping sara soon, we might not get a whole lot of time to have her react to it, so i did this instead. i hope you enjoy it fate <3 ratchet and the legends have become so important to me over the years

It’s the morning after Valentine’s Day, and some of the glow is finally starting to wear off. Sara guesses she’s never been particularly good at allowing herself to be happy for too long, even here. The years she’s spent in this world still feel surreal in plenty of ways, least of all this one: the fact that she gets a shot at a stable relationship with Nyssa.

It’s something that would’ve been about a thousand times more complicated (if not impossible) at home. They both know that. So there’s always a lingering ‘but’ hanging over even days like yesterday, although Sara has gotten better at not lingering on them until mornings like this one.

Speaking of days like yesterday, though.

She hears someone come padding into the Waverider’s galley from where she sits at the table, sipping her usual morning coffee. Just instinctively (it’s an ex-assassin thing) Sara has trained herself to distinguish between the footfall patterns of everyone currently living on the Waverider, so she doesn’t even have to turn around to place the soft, almost silent feet as Ratchet’s.

“Morning.”

Much to her bemusement, she hears something skitter and crash, and turns to see that Ratchet has collided with the counter out of apparent surprise at seeing her. The crash had resulted from the two clean coffee mugs he had just knocked onto the floor -- now broken. Sara raises her eyebrows. 

“Uh -- shoot, sorry!” Ratchet stammers, looking slightly aghast at the mess he’s made.  “I wasn’t -- I didn’t see you there. Sorry.”

Sara sips at her coffee noncommittally. “It’s like I don’t even have to try to sneak up on you these days. Careful with the broken glass.” His weird Lombax feet are barefoot this morning, after all.

“I’ll just... go find something to clean this up with,” Ratchet mutters, half-turning to exit the room.

“Ratchet. Hang on a sec.” He pauses, ears twitching as he glances back at her, and Sara continues,  “What’s got you all jumpy this morning?”

He hesitates, and Sara feels even more inwardly perplexed. Then she remembers the note he left her yesterday.  “Is this about your little fair date with Naruto?”

Ratchet looks so startled that in the next moment, Sara wishes she’d been a little more tactful.  “Is that not what we’re calling it?” she adds, a bit belatedly.

“No, I, uh -- it’s just --”  Ratchet rubs the back of his head briefly. “I didn’t... think you knew.”

If Sara’s being honest, she’s known for a very long time. Hell, she might be willing to bet she’s known longer than they have -- if she hadn’t picked up on it back on the Woodstock mission last year, it would’ve been impossible to miss how much it had hurt Naruto when Ratchet had gone back to his world.

“I’m the Captain. It’s my job to know things,” she states simply with another sip of her coffee. “Plus, y’know, you two sneaking off to an amusement park, alone together, on Valentine’s Day isn’t exactly Guys Being Dudes.”

“Guys Being -- ?” Ratchet evidently ultimately decides not to question that any further. He shakes his head. “He, uh. He asked me to go with him. I had no idea...”

“But you like him too,” Sara prompts gently. “Right?”

Ratchet gives her a sheepish smile, and though it isn’t visible, Sara imagines his cheeks are probably heating up beneath his fur. “Yeah, I -- of course. I like him a lot.”

Well. Romance aboard the Waverider has always been a bit messy, so by their standards, Sara supposes two teens circling around their crush isn’t even that dramatic. She smiles at him a little more warmly.  “Then I’m glad he asked you. And I’m glad you agreed to go.”

Ratchet shifts his weight briefly, but his ears do what Sara has come to recognize as a happy twitch.  “You don’t think it’ll get in the way of... uh, you know. Team stuff?”

Sara makes a point of rolling her eyes.  “Trust me, this ship has seen way worse inter-team romances than you two.”  She thinks briefly of Amaya and Nate, and then how much she misses Kendra. And Snart.  “Don’t worry about that. Just, you know... take it easy. You two have all the time in the world to figure this out -- no pun intended.”

Ratchet grins at her briefly, and then finally moves from his uncertain position at the other end of the galley -- sidestepping the mess of broken glass to come sit next to her at the table.  “It’s... different with him than it was with Heather.”

“Yeah?” Sara sets down her mug and rests her chin in one hand.  

“Yeah. I don’t really know how to explain it, it just feels more like -- like I’m seeing everything better.”

Sara’s smile turns soft.

It’s February 15th. Ratchet’s birthday is tomorrow, she realizes.

He’s done a lot of growing up. She can still see in his eyes the young teenager she first met two years ago, poking around her ship without permission. But at the same time, so much as changed.

“Kara would be proud of you,” she tells him a little more quietly.  

Ratchet’s expression shifts, briefly, some of the warmth and excitement is replaced by something a little more lost and sad.  “You really think so?”

“You know she would.” Sara pauses.  “I still have a pretty good feeling you’re gonna get to tell her all about it someday.”

About a hundred different complicated things pass over Ratchet’s face in that moment, and she knows he won’t be able to put most of them into words. But when he finally smiles at her again, it’s even warmer. And strangely more confident.  “Yeah. So do I.”

Sara’s not sure she can take much credit for the person Ratchet has become. For the relationship that’s blossomed under the roof of this ship, forged by all that he and Naruto have been through together. But she still feels proud.

Leaning a little towards him, she drops some of the seriousness of the moment and favors something a little more teasing.  “In the meantime, though, I expect you to give me the deets.”

And Ratchet laughs more brightly than she’s heard him do since the rifts brought him back, and as she watches and listens to the animated way he starts to delve into the story of his date, Sara reassures herself with the growing feeling that one way or another, they’re all going to be okay.

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: A Million Miles Away

One moment Leonard Snart has accepted death at the Oculus...and the next, he's back on the Waverider, disoriented and alive after all. But a lot of time has passed for everyone but him, and a lot of things have changed. Prequel to "Me vs. You."

After I wrote "Me vs. You," I couldn't get that version of the characters out of my head. So I wrote a prequel. (OK, two prequels. I'll post the other one in a few days.) Thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta!

Can be read here at AO3.

Sara had been right.

It is lonely.

Oh, maybe he’s not dead yet, but his hands are numb and the rest of him is starting to follow. Leonard stares into the surging blue energy of the Oculus Wellspring, trying to keep his mind empty of anything that might make him regret this decision more than he already is. If those energy waves are hazardous—and knowing the Time Bastards, they probably are—he’s already gotten a good dose of them, and it’d probably be too late even if he wasn’t determined to stay here and blow this damned thing up.

He can still feel Sara’s kiss on his lips, though. It’s stupid and sentimental, but he hopes the explosion happens quickly enough that he can still feel it when he...

There’s a noise in the echoing wellspring chamber, and he jerks his head around, relieved when it’s just a new batch of the Time Bastards’ soldiers and one, he thinks, of the No. 1 Time Bastards themselves. Not Mick, not Sara, not anyone he cares about keeping from this train wreck he’s dedicated himself to causing.

Train wreck. Lisa, I’m sorry.

“Shut it down!” the No. 1 Time Bastard yells. All the soldiers have their weapons trained on Leonard, but no one’s shooting. Maybe a shot would set things off? He tries to make his hand grip the failsafe a little tighter, just in case. The energy is surging, blue waves clouding his vision.

It is, he thinks, nearly time.

What’s it like? Dying?

What’d you feel?

Leonard turns his head, grimacing, toward the Time Bastard. And for some reason, the only right last words he can think of, the only thing that pops into his head, is from that movie Lisa liked so much when she was little, when she still hoped a Blue Fairy might come into their lives and save them.

Leonard Snart smiles grimly. He grips the failsafe a little harder. And he stares right at the No. 1 Time Bastard.

I guess lonely.

“There are,” he tells Druce, “no strings on me.”

And Leonard gets his wish. He can still feel Sara’s kiss on his lips when the Oculus wellspring explodes, blue light surging around him, energy buffeting him and ripping him away.

Like everybody I loved...

He falls into the wellspring, barely conscious, or is he conscious at all? Because the blue light is all he can see. He can’t feel anything. Not pain nor fear, not anger nor regret.

...was a million miles...

Well, maybe regret.

Away.

Something tugs on his arm.

Leonard frowns, turning his head. Blue light flickers through his eyelids, and he squints against it. What...

Tug. Tug.

His hands are still numb, but he tries to jerk his arm away, disoriented and a little annoyed. He’d been falling, he thinks, but he’s not now, and...

Thud!

He lands on something hard and cold, his shoulder smarting from the impact, his cheekbone glancing painfully off something metal. He growls in irritation, ripping his arm away from whoever’s yanked on it, struggling to sit up and get his bearings as the glare of blue light fades slowly from his vision and he becomes aware of a buzz of voices.

Panic surges, and he lurches away. Have the Time Bastards found a way to rip him away before the explosion after all? He thought the explosion had already happened...but then he’d be dead, dying alone, not whole and relatively unhurt, blinking up at a group of people he doesn’t recognize as his vision returns.

They don’t look like Time Bastards.

“Here, mate.” The blond in the trench coat and red tie offers him a hand. “You’ve been through it, haven’t you?”

“Careful!” the man next to him cautions, a worried look on his face. “I told you what he did to Amaya...” The woman next to him throws him a doubtful glance, while the other woman frowns.

“Who the hell’s Amaya?” Leonard snarls at him, but then his attention’s caught by motion to his other side, and he recoils a little at the sight of two figures, one in what almost seems to be a spacesuit.

The other is…in the ATOM suit?

The one on the left gets its helmet off first, and Leonard feels the bottom dropping out of his stomach as he freezes, staring.

Mick Rory gapes back at him for a moment before barking. “Gideon? Is this real Snart?”

Leonard barely hears him, or the response. He’s on the ship. And Mick’s here, Mick’s alive, thank god, so he’d made it out of the explosion zone, but there was one more person there when Leonard took the Oculus and...

“Where’s Sara?” he says, surging to his feet and stumbling. His feet and legs are numb.

“On the bridge.” Another familiar voice. The second suited igure is holding its helmet now--and it’s Raymond, of course. But who the hell are who the rest of these people? Leonard gives them a wary look, abruptly cognizant that he’s on the floor just inside the Waverider’s main hatch.

Which means the bridge is...

Stumbling again, he turns and heads down the corridor, heading for the bridge. He thinks.

“Mr. Snart!” Gideon’s voice rises over the chorus of other voices that seem to be telling him to stop. “You should get to medbay. I’m not certain what the effects of long-term exposure to the timestream...”

He ignores her, grimly, barely hearing the words, or at least not fully registering them. “Gideon? Am I going in the right direction?”

“Yes, but...”

Then someone’s in front of him, and Leonard blinks up at Mick, who’s still wearing part of his spacesuit and staring at his partner. The look on Mick’s face is...

And as weird and disorienting as this whole thing has been, that’s Leonard’s first clear sign that it’s even odder than he thinks.

“It’s really you.” Mick stares, then shakes his head. “It’s you. Not a...a hallucination. Not old you. Not Leo. You.”

Leonard frowns at him. “Leo? What...”

But Mick’s done something really weird now. He’s stepped forward and enveloped his oldest friend in a bear hug, squeezing enough that Leonard feels his breath wheezing out of his lungs. Mick smells like smoke and sweat and beer, just like normal, but his action is so unexpected and out of character that Leonard just stands there in stunned silence until his friend releases him and takes a step back, a thoroughly un-Mick-like smile on his face.

“What the hell?” he asks, conversationally, turning his head as the Boy Scout runs up beside them. Raymond looks like he wants a hug too, but Leonard holds up a hand, and he stops.

The other two men exchange a glance.

“Snart,” Raymond says quietly. “How long did you think it was? That you were gone?”

The words don’t make sense. Leonard frowns at him, then at Mick, whose smile is laced with (also un-Mick-like) consideration now.

“The goddamned Oculus just exploded,” he says, waving a hand back toward the hatch. “How did you get me out of there? Is S...is everyone else all right?”

He takes a step toward the bridge again. Raymond steps in front of him and reaches out to rest his hands on Leonard’s shoulders. But before Leonard can slug him and remove the offending appendages from his person, he speaks again.

“Snart,” he says gently. “It’s been three years since the Oculus exploded.”

Leonard stares at him. “What?”

“He’s right,” Mick says in a low voice, looking down. There’s pain in his voice, and now Leonard hears it. “Been a long time, Snart.”

The idea doesn’t compute. “Three years.”

“Yeah.” Raymond gives him a rueful little smile. “We all thought you were dead.” He glances at Mick. “Until the Time Bureau got a reading showing very dramatic temporal fluctuations in this region and asked us to check it out. And we found you just...floating...there. Mick and I went out to pull you onboard.”

“That’s not possible.”

“It is.” Raymond looks sympathetic, but stubborn. “But if you won’t listen to us...” He raises his voice. “Gideon?”

“Mr. Snart, they are correct.” If Leonard didn’t know better, he’d think the AI’s voice had its own share of pain layered underneath the computerized tones. “You were presumed dead in the Oculus explosion. Which was very nearly three years ago as of today.”

Three years.

It’s too much to process. Leonard holds very still, staring down the hallway toward the bridge.

“Savage?” he asks after a moment.

Mick makes a noise of satisfaction. “Dead,” he says. “Real dead.” He frowns at Leonard glances at him. “Didn’t save Hunter’s family, though. And he’s dead too.”

“Sara’s the captain now,” Raymond cuts in as Leonard digests the blunt words. “She’s a good one.”

“Of course she is,” Leonard murmurs. Three years. And he’d never stolen a kiss. He doesn’t want to think about that—but there are some familiar faces he’s neither seen nor heard mentioned. “The professor? The kid? Kendra?”

Raymond and Mick exchange glances. “Stein died,” Raymond says quietly. “In...well. We’ve got a lot to tell you. Jax is OK. He went back to Central City. And Kendra left with Carter. He, uh, got his memory back.”

“Sorry to hear that. About the professor.” And he is. He takes another step, still heading for the bridge, Mick and Raymond falling in on either side of him. “Anything else I should know about?”

They exchange another glance over his head. Leonard’s not sure how he feels about that. “Well, you blew up the Time Bastards,” Mick rumbles. “But now there’s the Time Bureau. They’re the good guys. That’s what they tell us, anyway.”

“Bureau. Sounds…annoying.”

“You have no idea,” Raymond tells him fervently. “But we’ve got a sort of…détente. We work together. And…ah…”

“Blondie was playin’ house with their director.” Mick’s words are harsh, blunt, with the air of ripping off a bandage. Leonard stops in his tracks, looking at his friend, who regards him steadily. “Real serious, like.”

He hadn’t thought Mick knew about his…his feelings for Sara. He’s not even sure what sort of name to put to them, really. But he does know, as he stares at Mick, that there’s a pit of sorts somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach, and a hope he hadn’t even know was stirring again is starting to fold up and die.

“Don’t know what happened there. They ain’t living together anymore, but I don’t know that they’re done, either.” Mick pauses. “Uh. Don’t know that you and her…the director lady…”

“Ava Sharpe,” Raymond interjects helpfully. “Yeah, Snart, I don’t think you’ll be a fan.” He continues obliviously. “She wasn’t a big fan of the Legends until she hooked up with Sara. Don’t really know if she really is now. She’s really big on rules.”

Leonard gives Mick a look he’s pretty sure is equal parts aghast and disbelieving. Maybe with a slight side order of…

Hurt? Heartbreak? He shies away from those terms, already packing the old ice in around his heart. If he even wants to admit he has one….

And then that ice shatters.

“Leonard?”

It’s like some stupid movie cliché, like one of those ridiculous rom-coms Lisa likes. He looks up and there’s Sara, at the end of the hall, staring back at him like she can’t believe her eyes.

She looks amazing. Not so different, really…maybe there’s something different with her hair, maybe there’s now a line or two around her eyes. But there’s something indefinable there, too, like she’s easier in her skin, like she’s made her peace with her past, and it’s just a part of her now.

The lost assassin is found. Or it’s just that she’s found her place, there in the captain’s chair of the Waverider.

Leonard takes a step toward her; he can’t help it. Then another. And…

“Sara!”

There’s another blond woman in the hallway suddenly, appearing behind Sara but moving to her side, giving her an odd glance before looking toward Leonard, Mick and Raymond. She’s wearing a blue suit, and her hair is pulled back, and every instinct Leonard has tells him this is not someone to cross. The air of competence and badassery is really rather like Sara’s—but something else about her (a certain sense of rigidity, of official authority) is rather definitely not.

Sara blinks, looking at the other woman…who’s set a hand on her arm. A rather proprietary hand, if Leonard’s any judge. He starts to bristle, stuffs it down. He has no right. He never did.

Sara seems to sense Leonard’s abortive movement, looking back at him.

“Ava,” she says, looking a little sheepish. “We found the cause of your temporal fluctuations.” She nods toward Leonard, who thinks he’s feeling even more disoriented now than he felt before.  “This is Leonard…”

“…Snart.” The other woman—Ava—finishes, staring. The disbelief on her face has started to morph into something else, and Leonard has started to feel like maybe he should get out of here. “The thief. The villain. The man who murdered the Time Masters.”

Sara whirls. “What? No…”

But Ava is advancing toward him. “Leonard Snart,” she says grimly, “I’m taking you into custody. For questioning about the destruction of the Vanishing Point.”

Leonard stares at her. “Ex-cuse me?” he manages.

Raymond and Mick both start talking at once, and Sara, shaking her head in disbelief, moves in front of the other woman, holding out her hands.

“Leonard is a hero,” she says firmly, and Leonard both winces at the word and feels gratified at the support. “He freed time. Didn’t Rip tell you what the Time Masters did? We had to undo their crap to defeat Savage, for free will.”

Ava stops, looking at Sara, and Leonard supposes he should be grateful that there’s enough trust there, at least, that she listens. She glances back at Leonard, and he can see the conflict in her eyes.

“Director Hunter just told us to keep an eye open for him, about what he did,” she tells Sara. “He told us the Vanishing Point exploded, because of him,” she jerks her head at Leonard, “and we were the heirs to the Time Masters, because someone had to protect time.”

Mick snorts. “Good ol’ Rip,” he says, “always leavin’ shit out.”

Ava bristles at him, but Raymond steps forward, between her and Leonard, and damn it, he’s grateful for the Boy Scout now, because Raymond’s posture is both determined and protective.

“We were all part of that too,” he tells the Time Bureau director staunchly. “Mick, me, Sara.” He points at Leonard. “He’s just the one who held down the failsafe and, we thought, lost his life because of it.” He looked thoughtful. “I mean, hell, I was holding it first. Then Mick knocked me out. Then Leonard knocked him out. Sara didn’t knock anyone out. This time.”

Ava Sharpe looks like Raymond’s giving her a headache. Leonard feels some satisfaction—along with an unwilling rush of sympathy. But Raymond’s continuing, glancing at Mick, who’s nodding in agreement.

“Anyway, if you’re going to blame someone, going to arrest someone, you’ll have to arrest us all,” he says. “We were all part of it.”

“He’s right,” Sara jumps in quietly. “And Rip apparently didn’t tell you that it was his plan. To blow up the Oculus.” She nods as the other woman looks at her. “The Time Masters were as corrupt as hell. It had to be done. Or Vandal Savage would still be on course to take over the world and we’d all be dead.”

“Or worse,” mutters Mick, but only Leonard and Raymond hear him.

“Rip probably wanted you to keep your eyes out for him for another reason,” Sara continues, looking at Leonard, then away. “Probably…he suspected Leonard wasn’t…dead.”

“If he did, can we bring ‘im back and kill ‘im again?” Mick asks, but Raymond hushes him.

Whatever there is between them, this Ava trusts Sara enough that she believes her. Leonard can almost see the instant her ire turns from Leonard himself to the absent and presumed deceased Rip.

“Damn it,” she says under her breath, then turns her gaze back on Leonard. He never learns what she would have said, though, because at that point, Sara reaches out and touches her elbow, and her attention wavers back to the captain.

“Come on,” Sara says, her own attention now thoroughly off Leonard. “I’ll tell you the whole…” The pause is so tiny that Leonard thinks that only he hears it, or maybe it’s just his imagination.  “… the story.” She glances back at them. “Listen to Gideon,” she says quietly. “Medbay’s probably a good idea.”

And then she’s gone, heading back to the bridge side by side with Ava, and Leonard can’t help feeling like she’s walking right back out of his life again, any furtive chance he had gone before it could be realized, or maybe it never existed at all. And he’s not the sort to hold that against someone, he really isn’t, but he…he has whiplash.

It was only an hour or so ago she’d challenged him to steal a kiss.

And only minutes ago that she’d kissed him.

He can’t feel that kiss anymore.

“You OK, boss?” Mick asks quietly, and even Raymond’s just watching quietly, seeming to understand that there are more things going on here than he realizes.

Leonard Snart drags in a breath.  He lets it out slowly. He’s alive. Ten minutes ago, he’d known he was going to die. He has a second chance at life.

Three years.

And he has no idea what to do with it.

“Peachy.”

[alittleimagine]

catalyst

Ray Palmer x Reader 

The crew found your inability to drop certain childhood habits amusing. It didn’t matter that you were able to feel the most minute of cellular processes in a human (or sometimes non-human) body with just the brush of skin on skin, it was very hard to shake the need to give a kiss or “sana sana” when there was an injury or malady. So, that was the final touch of any healing.

The first time you’d healed someone aboard the Waverider had been Jax and you had pressed a light kiss to his forehead and declared him good to go. If he had been surprised he’d hidden it well. Sara, the next person, had commented on it and received a shrug. You’d done it as a child and you’d kept doing it when the particle accelerator had given you your abilities. It had been generally accepted (Mick had complained the first time and then complained when you had refrained the second time (“If you’re going to do the damn thing then do the damn thing.”)).

Ray had welcomed it with the same earnest enthusiasm he did everything. Of course he would appreciate a gesture like that.

Ray was the only one you didn’t kiss anymore.

You hadn’t kissed him since he’d started dating Kendra.

It hadn’t felt right, kissing him while he was involved. Granted, you’d still given Kendra little kisses on her temple when you’d healed her. And when Nate and Amaya had started dating it hadn’t deterred you from giving either of them kisses. There was also the matter of Ray and Kendra breaking up with no change in regards to your willingness to kiss him.

Perhaps if your feelings for Ray had been purely platonic it wouldn’t have been a problem. If only.

You wanted more than the little kisses you could drop on the top of his head and you would not be an interloper. And when he and Kendra had split you’d continued your policy of not kissing him if only because it might have been too obvious.

Your natural inclination was to tamp down your feelings until you got over them anyway. You were sure it would happen at some point. Any day now. You just had to keep being patient. You were sure of it.

Any day now.

You’d assumed Ray hadn’t noticed.

Apparently you were a fool on all fronts.

The day had started with a rowdy encounter with a group of actual pirates appearing in California during the Gold Rush and, while all had turned out well, it had gotten bad first. As was Legends habit.

Amaya entertained her light gossip while she sat on a Med Bay chair and patiently waited for you to complete your work on fixing the laceration on her arm. It only required the lightest touch for you to be able to read and control the inner workings of her body, but your habit was a hand at the affected spot and a hand at the base of the neck. You had found that you required less concentration if you kept certain things constant.

The cut had been clean and it was an easy task to accelerate the cell regeneration that stitched her skin back together neatly. It didn’t even require much energy from either of you. You were free to discuss, then, Sara’s latest conquest in the form of a prospector’s pretty daughter (“I mean, I called it the moment I saw that smile she sent her. Made that girl weak in the knees” “Sara does have that effect.”).

You didn’t even notice Ray standing in the doorway as you laughed about whether or not Sara had scored with Queen Guinevere.

When you were satisfied with the full closure of fascia and epidermis on her arm you smiled and leaned forward to plant a gentle peck at the center of her forehead. She smiled fondly and shook her head (she had been more than surprised the first time and it had required seeing you do the same to other teammates a few times before she had willingly offered her temple).

“Have time to check me out?”

You jumped, Ray’s voice startling you, and glared at him when he came into your line of sight. And then glared at Amaya for keeping quiet and letting him scare you, even if by accident.

She did not look sorry.

“Of course I do.” You said, gesturing to the empty chair. “But if you scare me like that again you’ll have brain freeze for a week.”

“Sorry.” He smiled at you and you forgot all about it. He hopped up on the chair and let his legs swing out under him, looking so much younger and innocent than his giant biceps suggested (you might have had a particular preoccupation with his arms and you found no shame in that given how spectacular they were).

Amaya slid off the chair and gave your arm a squeeze. “I’m going to see what Zari is up to. Thank you.” And she was gone.

Ray waved at her as she left and then turned his full focus on you. You hadn’t seen him since you’d returned to the ship and hadn’t known about the cut on his forehead. He would have been your first patient otherwise- a head wound was always important to check on.

“What took you so long to come to me?” You frowned and moved around the chair Amaya had previously occupied. “You know better.” You scolded. As you neared he slid his knees apart to make room for you between his legs and ducked his head to give you better access. He was still taller than you, even sitting in the chair.

He shrugged. “Sorry. I felt alright.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot all about your meta ability to read the mechanical, organic, and biochemical workings of the body. Surely you knew better.” Just because you wanted to kiss him all the time didn’t mean you were going to be any less yourself around him.

You shook your head at him even as you laid a hand at his temple and the other at his neck. You ignored the way his shoulders loosened and marked the way all of him seemed to relax down to your ability subconsciously at work. In seconds you were satisfied it was only a superficial wound and he had no signs of a concussion or any other neurological problems. He still should have come to you sooner.

“You are aware that I’ve never fixed brain death, right? Don’t know if that’s even within my scope.”

“I wasn’t going to be brain dead!” He raised his head to argue and you glared until he lowered it once more.

“You didn’t know that, now did you?”

You thought you could see him smile to himself. “I won’t do it again.”

“Damn well better not.”

Checking his blood sugar and pressure while you were healing the few bruises and the main cut only took a couple of minutes and you were done. “There. All better.” You stepped back (if you let your hands trail on the skin of his neck as you pulled away you would never admit) and smiled at him.

“It was just you and Amaya who were hurt,  right?”

His “yeah” was quiet, but you shrugged it off. You expected him to slide off the chair and maybe the two of you would go get something from the galley. Instead he sat there and watched you toss away the bloodied strip of cloth Amaya had used as a bandage and wipe down the blood that had dropped onto the chair before washing your hands.

“Did I do something?”

You turned from your task to send him a confused look, your brows knitting together. “Aside from not come to me when you knew you should have?” You asked, slowly.

He was leaning forward in the seat, hands on either side of his legs, an intent look on his face. “You don’t kiss me anymore.”

You froze and had to wait while your brain tried to catch up.

“You know, the kisses after you do your thing and heal us. You used to do them. And then you stopped. I’m the only one who doesn’t get them.”

Quickly you ran through your options. You could deny (“That is ridiculous. I kiss you every time and you just don’t remember.”) or claim you didn’t notice (“Did I stop? I hadn’t noticed at all. Silly me.”) or maybe even convince him you hated him (“Well, Raymond, maybe it’s because you’re so lame.”). None of them sounded like great choices. You briefly considered just leaving, but it was a small ship and you were bound to run into him again.

So, in the end you only had one real course of action. Be cool.

He took your pause as invitation to continue. “At first I thought that it was because I started dating Kendra and you just weren’t sure about boundaries.” He shrugged. “But you still kissed Kendra. And you still kissed Nate and Amaya when they were together.”

Damn him for paying attention to things.

Thankfully, you considered yourself a fair actress and a good liar. You cleared your throat quietly. “Sorry, buddy. I didn’t realize you missed them.” ‘Buddy’ was important.

“I liked them. They were nice.” He said plainly and you were glad you could control your own physiological responses and were in no danger of blushing.

“I did stop because you were dating Kendra. I didn’t want to step on any toes.” You shrugged. “And then realized Kendra wouldn’t mind, but I guess I just didn’t get back in the habit.” Half truths were always the best way to lie. The fewer outright lies you had to keep up with the smaller the chance of being caught- Lying 101.

He watched you without saying anything for a beat or two.

“Here, let’s give you a kiss.” You crossed back over to him and tilted his head down gently to reach his forehead. Kissing him should have been normal, but your punk feelings were going to cause trouble and you knew it. Still…

You figured you were making up for all the little kisses you hadn’t given him when you let your lips linger on his temple.

When you pulled back his eyes were closed and the temptation to kiss him properly nearly overwhelmed you. You took several steps back instead. “There you go. All better for real this time.”

He had a strange smile on his face- a little quiet, a little reserved- but you didn’t want to stick around and analyze it. “I’m going to get something to eat, gotta recharge.” You said before he could speak and turned to leave.

It wasn’t until later that you even considered the way his heart had sped up.

[ishouldprobablybewriting]

Heavy Hitters- Chapter Two

Heavy Hitters: Outlaw Country pt 2

Sara convinces an old friend to join the Waverider team- as research and tech guru only, or so she said. As the newbie struggles to adjust to the team and the team struggles to adjust to her, Sara is playing a different game all together. One the new girl might not like too much.

Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow (or Flash or Arrowverse since it’s Mick Rory, but specifically LoT)

Pairing: Mick Rory x Plus Size OFC (cause Mick totally likes thick ladies)

Word Count: 3909

Tags/Warnings: Language, Cannon violence

Part one     |     Masterlist

A/N: Bit more action in this one. And a lot more Emily. Starts out with  2x6: Outlaw Country and follows it almost word for word with the new OC of course. Still not much interaction between Emily and Mick in this one. The next one will be much more action packed. And prolly up within the week. Maybe this weekend. I’ve actually got most of the rest of this chapter typed. At nearly 9k words it just seemed to long so I decided to cut it in half.  Lemme know what you think.

It didn't take too long for everyone to suit up again. Emily made sure to check on the professor before the others left. She found him in one of the engineering work rooms tinkering with something on a desk she couldn’t quite see. He had books spread out open to various pages and was hunched slightly with his back to her. She could just barely make out his voice as he mumbled, talking himself through whatever problem. She smiled softly. “Professor?” Emily called, her voice low. He still jumped.

“Huh? Wha-?” He turned finally catching her eye, “Ah, yes. Ms. Kyteler. What can I do for you?”

“Emily is fine, Professor.” He smiled at her and she knew he’d ignore her like he did the last dozen or so times she had corrected him. She took a step closer, careful not to invade his personal space. “I wanted to check on you. Jax said you weren’t feeling alright.”

Stein huffed lightly making a mental note to thank Jax for covering for him. “Yes, yes, dear. No need to worry. Liberty 1874 is just a young man’s town, that’s all. And I’m feeling a bit strange today. Thought it best to let the others handle this.”

Emily nodded. “Well, Pluto ‘ere is good company if you need it,” she gestured to the medium sized white dog with too-intelligent eyes sitting patiently at her feet as always. His ears perked up when she looked down to him. The click click click of his nails echoed slightly in the empty room before Pluto settled next to the desk the Professor was working on. “And, he’s really good at problem solvin’. Always helps me work mine out.” She looked back up and met the older man’s stare. Emily always like that no matter how much his irritation showed on his face, his eyes and words always seemed to be kind to her. She was sure it had something to do with her being a younger woman- and not an assassin. He treated Amaya the same way. She smiled fully at him, “Alright, then. An’ just for the record,” she started, her grin skewing itself and eyes growing mischievous, “You an’ I both know you could prolly handle half the men in that town by yourself.”

He laughed at her as she turned on her boot heels and strode quickly towards the bay doors to meet up with the others.

Finally as the group arrived in Liberty, the Waverider crew was struck by just how empty it had become. There were still a handful of people, maybe a dozen, milling around but it looked mostly like older shop owners and their porch dogs.

Emily looked around hummed lowly. “Or all of them.” She caught the questioning look Mick gave her. She let a nervous smile twitch onto her face and shook her head quickly before ducking slightly and looking around again.

“Where is everybody?” Clearly Jax, at the front by Hex, noticed the same emptiness.

Hex grumbled a bit. “Well, ever since Turnbull set up shop six months ago, everyone’s been run outta town or made ta work in the mine.”

“Mine?” Mick stepped forward, “What kinda mine? Gold?” Emily rolled her eyes as a corner of her mouth turned up.

“Hell if I know.”

“Nobody’s been mining for gold near these parts for half a century,” Nate recited as he watched a man on a horse walk closely by. “Listen to me, ‘these parts’. I sound like I’m a cowboy.” He couldn’t keep the boyish excitement out of his voice.

“He must of pulled something from under the ground that’s makin’ him rich- Turnbull owns the saloon.” Ray pointed out.

Hex spoke up as he continued to lead the group through the all but barren brown on slightly lighter brown landscape, “An’ hotel, laundry and the whorehouse.”

Sara didn’t skip a beat, “The answers ‘no’, Mick.”

The group slowed to a stop with Hex in front of a building, “Turnbull’s gotta office above the saloon.” He shot Sara a look, “He’s also got about a dozen men makin’ sure no one gets close to ‘im.”

“Well, I think we can.” Sara dug a hand into her pocket as she faced her crew. “Mick,” she tossed something at him, “Why don’t you mosey on in there- have yourself a good time?” Mick looked slightly confused for a second, instantly realizing that Sara had just tossed him a small bag full of coins used in the town. And was asking him to go blow it all on liquor. Emily smiled to herself as she caught onto Sara’s plan.

He wasn’t about to ask questions though. “If you insist.” Emily watched him walk into the saloon before Sara could change her mind.

Amaya, ever the voice of reason, questioned Sara, “I'm not sure I understand you plan. You just sent a match to a powder keg.”

“That is the plan,” Emily answered quietly.

Sara nodded. “And if Turnbull doesn't want his saloon to burn down, he's gonna have to come out of his office and deal with it.” Jax started nodding along, grinning in agreeance with the plan.

“Yeah, get your boy to get into a fight with Turnbull and pull ’im out here to the streets.” Hex suggested.

Seems everyone’s catching up now. Emily lips pulled up again, not quite into a smile.

“Amaya,” Sara continued, “Your job is to make sure Rory keeps his pistol in his pants until he’s outside.”

“Well. Clearly, I drew the short straw,” she sassed at Sara as she walked towards the saloon.

Emily glared a bit after her, lips pursed slightly. That’s no way to think of your teammate.

Jax stepped forward. “So, what do you want us to do?”

“Reckon I could set up close with a long gun,” Ray spit on the ground.

“Are you chewing tobacco?” Nate asked.

Rays eyebrows lifted, “Mm. Tootsie roll.”

“Get rid of your hats, and your guns,” Sara ordered.

“What?” Jax followed his orders anyways, but not before spinning his gun on his finger. “I thought we were supposed to be badass cowboys.” He aimed his gun dramatically.

“You boys wanna know why Turnbull went from a cattle wrestler to owning his own country? Imma need you to infiltrate his base of operations.”

“As what?” Nate was less than impressed with this prospect.

Sara raised her eyebrows and grinned. “No one says no to the tax man.”

All three echoed a small groan. Emily held back a laugh.

Once the three boys were sent towards Turnbull’s accountant, Emily stepped closer to her companions. They were in a comfortable silence for a few beats, simply waiting on the powder keg of Mick in a saloon to explode. Hex looked between the two women. “What? You useless or something?”

Emily eyed him for a second. The turned and shot a look to Sara. “Or something,” Emily shrugged at Hex. He stared at her before shaking off his confusion and falling into companionable silence with the women.

At the accountant’s office, the boys, looking slightly less rough around the edges now, introduced themselves to a nervous, well-dressed man with round glasses. “Ya’ll tax collectors?”

Nate smiled reassuringly, “We’re here to go over your books and make sure everything’s in order.”

“And we’re in a bit of a hurry so, uh...” Jax rushed.

Ray confirmed, “Yes, we're on the next train back to Washington,D.C.”

The accountant looked even more confused. “Well, there ain't no train to Washington. Pass won’t be open til spring.” he nodded at Nate. Nate in turn smiled and forced out a laugh preparing to cover Ray’s blunder.

“He means mule train.” Ray grit hit teeth but didn’t disagree. “This guy.”

Nate walked through the threshold of the office. “How'd we go from desperado to accountant?”

“Well at least Micks having fun,” Jax grumbled following in after him.

“Stuck here doing research while everyone else is out drinking,” Nate complained, pulling open a random drawer. “It's like high school all over again.”

Mick made a beeline for the bar. He slapped a coin on the wood and ordered a beer. A well- if not over- dressed woman at the end of the bar made eyes on the large gruff man. Amaya walked up and stood between them. It was clear she wasn’t happy with her assignment. Mick looked at Amaya. “Make it two,” he sighed.

The bartender gave them both a look. “You’re with him?”

“Unfortunately,” she nodded.

The boys continued to, as quickly and inconspicuously as possible, tear apart the office. Ray was closing a cabinet when he looked over and noticed a tan book, “Ledger” written diagonally across the cover. He opened the cover and took a quick look at some of the pages before calling for the others. “Guys, I think I found something. According to this ledger, Turnbull's stockpiling some kind of ore in a nearby mining camp.” He snapped the book closed as heavy footsteps turned the corner. Two large, armed men walked into the room.

Jax’s face pulled as the men looked at them, trying to scare the time travelers. “And you are?”

“I work for Mr. Turnbull.” Ray noticed a third man enter from the other door, effectively surrounding them as the first man spoke. “Who’re you?”

Ray cleared his throat. “My friends and I are with the Internal Revenue Service-”

“Uh-uh-uh. Mr Turnbull don’t like no taxmen.”

“Well nobody likes paying taxes,” Nate's voice dropped just a bit, “But they are an essential part of the Federal Government. And-”

“Mister Turnbull don’t like the Federal Government, neither.”

Jax tried a different approach. “Is that why he’s trying to start his own country?” It may not have been the best approach.

The man in front squinted at the “IRS agents” while the other two pulled deep frowns. “Oh see, now. Why’d ya have to go and say something’ like that?” He pulled his pistol from its position and made a show of cocking it as the other two men raised their guns as well. “Now I gotta pump some lead into ya so ya don’t go blabbin’ to the wrong person.” His eyes grew a little, making him look crazy.

“Hey, hey,” Nate tried to reason, “Would you shoot an unarmed man?”

The three hired men laughed amongst themselves. “I think that’s a ‘yes’.” Ray said just before all three leaped into action.

Jax lead the charge. He threw a mean right hook and caught the bearded man straight on knocking him down and unconscious. Nate didn’t wait for Jax to even stand and he leapt over both bodies to knock out another one before he could get away. Ray lunged to his right and too out one holding a rifle with strong left punch.

All three stood and smiled at each other, impressed with what they had done.

Hex wasn’t very good at waiting patiently for Rory to pick a fight. He walked across to the laundry. The saloon was still within eyesight but at least there was some shade and a place to sit. He crossed his arms and Emily sat stiffly beside him, while Sara stood a few steps aways. Each kept their eyes on the saloon.

“So what’s your relationship with Turnbull?” Sara asked.

“Come again?” Hex finally looked from the door. Sara turned and joined him at the table.

“Well, you’ve had dealings over the years.” She sat on the other side of Hex. “I can tell a vendetta when I see one. Kinda an expert when it comes to revenge.”

Hex looked towards Emily, just to look away from Sara and her truth. Emily just nodded along, agreeing with Sara’s statement. Hex huffed. Damn fillies “Is this what it's like- working with a woman?” Sara turned to face him more now. Emily turned her head and raised a challenging eyebrow. “Ya’ just, sit around and talk about your feelings?” Hex wouldn’t look either of them in the eye.

“Well, if your feelings are what almost got you hung- then yeah. I’d say they’re worth talking about.”

Hex finally looked Sara in the eye. “Not in this century,” he whispered.

While these three waited for Mick to finish his party, the other trio had swapped clothes with the unconscious outlaws. Though, Jax did find it a little creepy that they apparently had to undress unconscious men.

“Well,” started Nate, walking through the threshold to join the other two, “Now that we got some outlaw outfits, it’s time to find out what Turnbull’s stockpiling at his mining camp.”

“Or we can do the responsible thing and go back to the ship with the rest of the team,” Ray offered, hat in hand.

Nate scoffed lowly. “You’re joking, right?”

The three stared at each other for a tense moment. Ray cracked first, a smile lighting his face as he put his hat on his head. “Time to cowboy up!”

Jax hit his shoulder and they laughed before Jax turned out the door. Ray and Nate slapped each other on the arm a few too many times to be just friendly before following suit.

The dealer laid down cards in front of Mick, a pretty blonde on his lap and Amaya beside him with a bottle in her hand. The pianist continued to play some jonty old tune to fill the bar along with the sounds of other patrons drinking and talking. He flipped over one card- an ace of diamonds- and sighed dramatically. “Ahh…” His smug smile gave him away to anyone who knew him. Mick never smiled like that. Not unless he was planning something.

“Another blackjack,” the dealer commented as he continued placing cards on the table.

“Must be my lucky day!”

Amaya leaned in, “You’re cheating.”

“I’m winning.” He tossed back the shot in front of him. Mick handed the whore that had just gotten off his lap a bill. “Sweetheart, that's for you.” She giggled and took it smiling at him. “I’ll see you around.” He wasn’t done sharing his wealth yet. “Piano man!” Mick slapped another bill on the wooden top of the instrument, “Play something else.” He continued past the musician. “I’ve had more fun at a funeral.” He hit his hand on the bar top a few times. “Bartender!” Loud and obnoxious, this was the Mick Rory the Waverider crew knew and, well, kind of loved.

He turned to the older man beside him at the bar who had started giving him a strange curious look. The man's white eyebrows drawn up as he took a small step back to appraise the unfamiliar man. “And who might you be?” Mick roughed, turning up his glass again.

“Names Turnbull.”

Mick looked unimpressed. “Never heard of him.”

“That’s my name on the sign in front’a the saloon.” Turnbull’s unbelieving face never wavering. “Can’t you read?”

“Ha Ha Ha. So it’s your money I’m winning? Well, that's interesting.” Mick plucked his ever-present lighter from his pocket and took a bill from the bar top. He made a show of flicking open the lighter and bringing it slowly to the corner of the money.

Amaya, who had been watching from her seat, groaned silently. Mick always knew what buttons to push. Then again, that

why Sara sent him into the saloon to begin with.

“I’d say your luck ‘as run out, partner.” Turnbull quipped.

Mick paid no mind, by now transfixed on the golden flame. He broke his gaze and dropped the now useless money.

“Ya’ just gonna stand there and make threats?” Mick challenged. Amaya silently got up. She positioned herself closer, ready to back up her crewmate if necessary. ”Or ya’ gonna do something ta back it up?”

Both men took a step back, reaching for the pistols on their hips.

“Amaya,” Sara’s voice crackled over the coms, “What’s going on in there?”

She pressed her finger to her ear and turned slightly from the piano player. “You wanted Mick to start a fight. Looks like your plans working.”

As the now properly- or rather improperly- dressed trio made their way into the mining camp, dirty bandanas covering their faces to help them blend in more, Jax groaned loudly. “Man, people didn’t wash in the wild wild west?” He could hardly handle the stench of the stolen clothes they were now baking in.

“Well, we’re criminals, remember? It's important to smell the part,” Ray reasoned.

An older outlaw dressed in all black, save his off white bandana tied around his neck, looked up as the boys walked into the camp. He stood from his spot by a fire pit. “Hey boys, we got company,” he alerted the other outlaws as he grabbed his gun. He aimed it directly at Nate.

Jax crossed his arms in a challenging stance. Ray and Nate held their ground, not even blinking. All three played their parts to perfection hoping this would work and they wouldn’t get shot all to hell in a time when “modern medicine” was “puttin’ a lil’ dirt on it”.

“I dun’ reck-on-ize you,” the man drew.

Nate thought fast, “Ah well that’s probl’y because’a our new bandana.” He pointed to his face.

The outlaw looked towards Ray. “This one off ‘is rocker?” He gestured towards Nate.

Ray just shrugged. He lowered his voice deeply, “You could blow ‘is brains out,” Nate sent him a questioning glare. “Only, he hasn’t got any.” 

Apparently, the play worked. The outlaws laughed loudly and patted Nate roughly on the shoulder and back before walking off.

Nate returned the favor to Ray. “Nice work.”

Back on the ship, Professor Stein walked into the medbay with a slight limp. “Gideon, let's run the neuro-imaging scan again. Th-There must be something you missed,” He asked taking a seat in the second chair. Pluto, who wouldn’t listen to the professor’s command to “stay put and leave him alone” stopped just after the first chair, careful to be out of the way but still obviously present despite the dog’s silence.

“The odds that I misdiagnosed your condition are infinitesimally thin,” the AI litted. “The algorithm programmed into my medical diagnostic systems-”

“Oh just do it,” the professor grumbled.

“As you wish, professor.” She fired up the scanner and its blue lights came to life with a soft whir. He breathed heavily while the machine completed its short scan. “Biometric scan reveals all brain functions are within normal parameters. Physiologically, there's nothing wrong with you.”

“A-are you implying that my symptoms are psychosomatic?” He got up from the chair, “Because- ah-” A splitting pain ripped through the professor’s brain. He tried to breathe through the pain and pressed his hand to his head, closing his eyes as images of a young woman flashed through his mind. She had short brown hair and bright blue jacket and smiled at brightly at him like he was her world. He could hear her laughter. Stein’s breathing became labored and he sunk back down into the chair. “Please,” he gasped, “I need you to run another test, again.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. The lights began to glow again as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly.

Nate, Ray and Jax grabbed lanterns and began exploring the open, and surprisingly not guarded at all, mine shaft. Jax shuffled through a few papers on a crate as they passed but nothing stood out. Ray went to one side to investigate an open crate. A large glittering rock poked up from the edge of the wood. Multiple, small dark points caught the light from Ray’s lantern as he stepped closer. A look of realization crossed his face when he recognized the rock. “Oh my God.”

Nate continued looking while Jax stepped over to see what Ray found, “What is it?”

“It’s dwarf star.” His eyebrows up, eyes wide and a small smile on his face as he spoke, “One of the rarest minerals in the universe.”

“How does this help Turnbull take over the west?” Nate asked.

“I used dwarf star to power the A.T.O.M. suit. The piece I had was the size of your little finger!” he exclaimed. “There's enough potential energy here to power the entire wild west!”

“Or blow it up,” Jax reasoned, eyes cutting to Ray.

“Question is, how does Turnbull even know what it is?”

Nate took a few steps forward towards another crate with another large ore sitting inside. And a glass disk with two white rectangles on either side, no bigger than the size of his palm, sitting on top. “Bet ya’ it has something to do with this.” Nate picked up the device and beeped as it came to life showing a red grid with a large “X” in the center of the crosshairs. The device glowed as he showed it to his teammates. Somehow Turnbull had gotten his hands on future technology. And was using it to his advantage, apparently.

“Its some kind of tracker,” Nate explained, “Definitely not from the 1800’s.”

“Probably stole it from a time pirate,” Jax reasoned.

“We’ve gotta get this out of here.” Ray didn't waste time waiting for confirmation from his teammates as he turned to leave.

Jax sat down his lantern and squatted to pick up the box with the dwarf star. He tried lifting it, groaning a bit under the strain.

Ray turned back, “Oh, I should have mentioned- it’s also the densest material in the universe.” Ray shrugged a bit as Jax glared at him. “Let's get the rest of the team.”

“Amaya,” Sara called, still sitting on the table with Emily and Hex, “Its been forever. What the hell is going on in there?”

Amay pours herself a drink before she answers. “Plans hit something of a snag.”

That didn’t sound right to Sara. “Explain.”

“It’s hard to but,” she paused, “Mr Rory and Mr Turnbull,” Amaya glanced back watching Mick and Turnbull laughing at a table over a bottle of something, “like each other.” The men clicked their glasses together before downing the shot.

“What?” Sara hissed. “What happened to Rory starting a fight?” Mick Rory never turned down a fight.

Amaya tilted her head, “I think it's more likely that him and Turnbull get matching tattoos.” She took a sip of her own liquor, needing something to handle this situation.

Mick’s gruff voice was loud in the busy bar. “So they told me to put my hands up,” he raised his hands mimicking the action, “And my pants fell down,” he lowered his hands smoothly as Turnbull let out a booming, cracking laugh, “Because a’ all the loof I was carryin’!” Mick joins Turnbull in his loud laugh; Turnbull laughed hard enough to make himself cough a bit.

Turnbull gestures a pointing finger towards the door then towards Mick, “Ya’ see! That’s what them damn fools back in Washin’ton don’ understand! That men like you an’ me,” his hand flew wildly between the two of them, “We weren’t meant ta live in cages!” Micks eyes had gone a bit wide making him look a little crazier than usual with the small frown on his face. “Hell!” Turnbull continued, “Tha’s why our forebarers busted away ta begin with! So we could be free!” Mick nodded in agreeance, “An’ that's wha’ Turnbull Country’s all about!” He leaned in about on the table, Turnbull finally lowering his voice back to a normal talking level, “It’s about keeping the wild west, wild!”

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! I’d be up to start doing that especially since my upload schedule is not consistent at all. 

[captainwhogotthecanary]

@winterandmistletoe requested “Future/Fluff/Gun Amaya and Len (+Sara+Mick even better)))”

All Ages, Mixen and Captain Canary with a healthy dose of friendship tossed in all around. Parts of it got more serious than intended, but it’s still fluff and optimistic!

As always, also on AO3.

Amaya’s still not always sure what to think about Leonard Snart. The version of him she met briefly was decidedly not someone she wanted to associate with, but Mick insists that the one back on the team for a while now, the one who died to save them, is nothing like who he was back then.

She trusts Mick, which makes it possible to learn to trust Leonard, despite a past including altered timelines that none of them fully remember.

Sara helps, too, if less directly. For the first week Leonard is back, the two of them just watch each other carefully. It reminds Amaya of animals who won’t quite approach each other, simultaneously recognizing potential risks and potential rewards. Then something gives, and Sara and Leonard are inseparable.

Mick won’t tell her exactly what happened, not even when he and Amaya manage to get some time alone in one of their rooms. Not that it’s surprising, really; Mick’s not a big talker. What he does say matters to her, though, whether it’s to the whole team or words reserved only for her, shared while she trails careful fingertips over deep scars.

So she trusts Leonard, she really does, because she trusts Mick’s judgement and Sara’s, and because she sees the wounded looks in Leonard’s eyes when any of the team shows lingering distrust or disbelief. He hides it well, but it’s there. So are the looks of love he turns toward Sara and Mick—different sorts of love, certainly, but both of them powerful.

All of this is on Amaya’s mind when she and Leonard end up by themselves for the first time, or the first time off the Waverider, anyway. She had assumed it would happen on a mission eventually, but instead, they’re on a double date—not that either man will admit that’s what it is, claiming instead it’s some sort of reconnaissance for the festive, future carnival.

Mick and Sara are together on a ride Amaya and Leonard have no interest in, one that spins and flips at speeds Amaya’s just not comfortable with when strapped into the flimsy, metal contraption. It’s awkward, for a few moments; Leonard watches his partner and his lover walk away—Sara shoves Mick playfully as they go—then frowns at the ground.

“You’re good for him, you know,” he says, hardly loud enough for her to hear. He looks up at her and continues. “He’s a better man since he’s known you.”

She keeps her expression neutral while she considers her response. “That doesn’t mean I deserve the credit. He’s made his own choices. People don’t change unless they truly want to.”

Leonard tilts his head toward her in acknowledgment. “Even so. He was having a rough time of things and could’ve changed for better or for worse. You helped tip the odds in the right direction.”

It’s possible, she admits. Likely, even. She watched Mick as he struggled to fall on the side of good, or at least mostly on the side of good—he was there when it really mattered, at least—at the same time as they grew closer. Sometimes he would ask her to explain her stance on something, and then he would just listen, more intently than she thinks anyone has listened to her before.

She’s grown even more confident in her own knowledge and abilities in part because of his faith in her.

Amaya knows Sara and Leonard have helped change each other, as well, but she’s never really known the Leonard who first boarded the Waverider. She can share, however, what she does know.

“You’re good for Sara, too.” Leonard’s quiet, listening, so she continues. “She’s a good captain, but she was lonely. She kept herself apart more than she had to. Since you’ve returned, she’s let much of her guard down. She spends time with you, and with me and Mick, at the very least.”

Leonard breaks eye contact, looking off in the direction the others went. “She’s strong. It’s hard for her to know when she doesn’t have to be.” He meets Amaya’s gaze again, and she feels a thread of understanding growing between them.

The tone is much too serious, though, to suit their surroundings. Amaya takes a moment to look around, taking in the happy sounds, the bright lights, the foods.

The games of skill and luck.

At one of these, there’s a large stuffed bear. It’s dressed oddly; she’s fairly certain its outfit is meant to indicate it’s a ninja, but it’s wearing goggles that remind her of Mick’s.

“Up for a challenge?” she asks Leonard, nodding, and he smirks before following her to the booth, confidence radiating from him. The game looks simple enough; there are guns pointed at targets, and the aim is to shoot a certain amount of water into the moving target in a given amount of time. After watching for a minute—she knows Leonard is watching at least as closely as she is while they wait their turn—she sees that it’s not just the threshold of water that’s important; only the contestant with the highest total gets to choose a prize.

It’s perfect.

It’s their turn as soon as the person in front of them chooses a smaller reward, and Amaya hands over enough cash to cover both their attempts, moving her gun experimentally before the water starts, Leonard doing the same at the gun next to her. There’s a lackluster countdown, and then the water kicks in, jerking her gun immediately to the right.

Amaya watches the stream carefully as she aims it at her target, blocking out the rest of her surroundings and just focusing on the way the water moves. One minute passes, then another, then the water cuts off abruptly. She’s confident she’s won until she glances over at Leonard’s target.

Both of them have surpassed the level of water needed for the largest prizes, but they’re so close to even that she’s not sure, from this distance, which of them won. The game operator has to take a closer look, too, and Amaya and Leonard share impressed glances while waiting for their results.

“Nice job,” Sara says as she and Mick approach. Amaya can’t quite help but grin at Mick before she turns back, expression serious, waiting.

“You’re the winner,” the operator announces finally, turning to point at Amaya. She grins again, triumphant.

“Good job,” Leonard says, sounding pleased despite the loss, and Amaya sees Sara has tucked herself under one of his arms.

“Whatcha win?” Mick asks, resting a hand on Amaya’s shoulder. Amaya points to the awkward-but-cute bear, and the four of them move out of the way after she’s claimed her prize. Mick looks amused until Amaya presses it against his chest. He blinks, then wraps an arm around the bear, keeping it from falling to the ground when she lets go. She leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek, delighting in the way that can still fluster him.

“For you,” she says simply. She can hear Sara, who’s hiding her quiet laughter against Leonard's chest as best she can.

“I bet Gideon can find a better outfit for the thing,” Leonard drawls, drawing Mick’s attention, “but you better not lose the goggles.”

Mick grunts, but Amaya can see the smile he’s trying to hide. “I need a beer,” he says, and the four of them start toward a beer tent, the bear tucked safely under Mick’s arm.

Amaya watches him for a minute, how carefree he seems despite his declaration, then turns her attention to the others. Sara is smiling, almost shining in a way she doesn’t usually. Leonard is almost as relaxed as the other two, a smile playing at his lips, a spark in his eye as he meets Amaya’s look once more.

Amaya might not be sure what to think of Leonard Snart at times, but she decides that, at minimum, he has potential to become a good friend to her. He already is one to Sara and to Mick, and she’s decided that the trust in him seems more than warranted. All of that’s more important to her, she decides, than a past he no longer participated in.

In a future further than she ever expected to see, on a ship with misfits who break the rules as much as they help keep them, Amaya’s found people who are like family to her. It’s everything she never expected, and maybe, maybe it’ll have to end one day, but for now…

It’s also simply everything.

[winterda]

Title: Here Are Lions Rated: PG-13 Summary:

“This doesn't look like Los Angeles,” Amaya said.  “Unless things have changed drastically since the last time we were in the future – present – whatever.”

“Blondie hit it on the head earlier,” Mick replied.  “We interacted with future versions of ourselves.  Time Lines aren't exactly thrilled over that sort of thing.”

Landing next to Sara, Jax asked, “So we literally broke time?”

Mick shrugged. “Don't know, but if Gideon wasn't having a major malfunction when she told us we were in LA in 2017, it looks like Time took a hit to the face with a two-by-four.”

AN: I already posted this on AO3, but I thought I’d put this up on here for anyone who was maybe wanted to read it. 

---------

Chapter 1

This place felt dead.  Not filled with death like 1916.  Not dying like a few possible futures they had seen.  Just dead.

It was something Sara knew herself to be an expert in.

There was life here.  Those dinosaurs that were nudging around the front of the Waverider were proof of that.  It never occurred to her that they might be the only forms of life here until after she had barked orders at the team to go contain them.  They were in the middle of LA according to Gideon, and she had seen Jurassic Park 2 enough as a child to know why that wasn't a good thing.  T-Rex were big, dangerous, and base creatures – but so was Mick, so it didn't take them long to have the situation under control.

That was when she noticed.  The way the wind whistled between buildings that never existed in LA and brought traces of smoke from the structure that they had so unceremoniously knocked over like an older siblings knocks over their younger siblings' block tower.  The smell of the ocean with no hint of smog or overpriced coffee or various bodily functions.  The way Mick huffed next to her and Firestorm crackled and Ray's powered down.  

The way there was nothing else.

“Where is everyone?” Jax asked.  “I mean, I get no one wanting to tangle with dinos, but you'd think someone would come and see what crash-landed in the middle of the city.”

He paused in that way he did when Stein was speaking to him and gave a short nod.

“Grey agrees.  Says the cops should at least show up.”

“I don't like this,” Mick growled and eye the surrounding buildings.

Sara couldn't stop herself from doing a quick scan as well.  A windows rattled a little in the wind but nothing otherwise.

“Gideon,” she said a little sharply into her earpiece.

Silence was her only answer.  

Hoping that perhaps Gideon was just being a little overly sensitive, she asked, “Gideon?”

Again, there was nothing.

“Well,” Ray said after a moment, “that's never a good sign.”

“But Gideon was working earlier,” Jax interjected.  “She said we were in Los Angeles in 2017.”

“That was before we crashed,” Sara replied.  

“And we didn't exactly ask a lot of questions before running out to face the tyrannosaurus,” Nate added helpfully.

Sara was honest enough with herself to acknowledge that it was her own fault.  Even if they were worried about what was happening outside, she should have checked on Gideon before rushing out, if for no other reason than to make sure that Gideon was still operational.  It was a rookie mistake; one she knew that Rip would have never made.

Maybe there was more he needed to teach her.

“This doesn't look like Los Angeles,” Amaya said.  “Unless things have changed drastically since the last time we were in the future – present – whatever.”

“Blondie hit it on the head earlier,” Mick replied.  “We interacted with future versions of ourselves.  Time Lines aren't exactly thrilled over that sort of thing.”

Landing next to Sara, Jax asked, “So we literally broke time?”

Mick shrugged. “Don't know, but if Gideon wasn't having a major malfunction when she told us we were in LA in 2017, it looks like Time took a hit to the face with a two-by-four.”

Off in the distance, a clock tower that resembled Big Ben began to chime.  The old fashion sound echoed down the street and filled up every empty space.  After the thirteenth and final strike, the silence stretched taunt around them.

“We need to find out what's going on,” Sara said.  “Jax, you and Stein go try to figure out what's wrong with Gideon.”

“Right,” Firestorm said with a quick nod.  They separated into their two halves and headed back into the ship.  Sara barely paid any attention to them before barking out her next orders.

“Ray, take a quick look around from the sky then come back here.  You're our dinosaur expert, and we're going to need you near by in case the Dinos have some friends we don't know about.”  

“Got it,” Ray replied and took to the sky once more.

Sara followed him until he rounded a building a few streets down before she added to Nate, “Stay here.  With Gideon out of commission, we need to make sure that nothing comes up onto the ship before Ray gets back.  Then grab Stein and see if you can find anything out about this place.  The rest of us will go take a look around.”

Nate shifted uncomfortably like Bobby Durston from next door used to do whenever she told him to turn off the TV and go do his homework.  Nate's eyes shifted over to Mick and Amaya as they were walking away, and Sara could tell an argument was already forming on his lips.  

They didn't have time for dissent.  That dead feeling was pressing down upon her more and more, and it was causing her instincts to sharpen and growl in anticipation.  For what exactly, she didn't know, but she did know that they couldn't stay here.  Something had to be done soon, and that wasn't going to happen if they didn't work together.  Those issues they'd had with Mick didn't magically go away (and Sara wasn't sure if a little bit of jealousy might not be playing a little with Nate), but that was all things that could be dealt with after they put this decaying bubble behind them.  

“There a problem, Nate?” she asked.  

For all her training, Sara still wasn't very good at hiding her annoyance – from her teammate especially.  Again, Nate did that awkward shifting, but the fight withered away under her glare.  He coughed and mumbled a quick and quiet, “No.”

Sara didn't bother with answer of her own.  She just turned and headed after Mick and Amaya.  

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

When the group of strangers began to disperse, he rocked back and began to bounce lightly on his heels.  The rolling office chair he'd been leaning against didn't glide across the tight carpet that well anymore after who knew how long of disuse, but still threatened to dump on his butt if he doesn't cool it. (Cool it.  Ha.  He'd have to remember that one for later.)

From the 52nd floor of Wayne Tower, they all look pretty small – even that busted up ship of theirs didn't look all that impressive from this high up – but he knew better than to think that mattered all that much.  Heck, he just watched them take on that group of dinosaurs that been running around the “downtown” (because who could really keep up with how things liked to change around here) area for the past few weeks.  Not that they couldn't handle them.  If they had wanted, they would have dealt with them way faster than these guys.  However, they had had more pressing things to worry about.  

Point was, he didn't know where these guys landed on the potential goods guys or bad guys lists.  They could be friends.  They could be foes.  You never know that kind of thing when people dropped in what they'd be.  With how big the multiverse was, he couldn't even work off his own knowledge so it was hard to tell where this group fell.  

Though, admittedly, a bunch of bad guys probably wouldn't have bothered getting rid of those tyrannosaurus.  Maybe making them into some sort of pet.  That seemed more like something a villain would do.  Right?

Anyway, news guys, he wasn't really sure about.  That ship of theirs, though.  

Yeah, it was feeling the mode at the moment, but he'd gotten a pretty good look at it before they all came running out to battle the evil dinos.  From what he'd seen, that thing could be really useful.  That tech was way beyond him, and so far he'd been the most knowledge about that sort of stuff (okay, second most, but that just wasn't a fair comparison).  If they could get it, it might be just what they need to get off this totally crazy ride.

That meant that they wouldn't be the only ones interested in it.  

A full body shiver raced down him at the thought.  All options on that was just...bad.  Bad beyond the telling of it.  

So it was decision time.  Wait and spy like he was supposed too, or interfere and hope for the best.

Well, if was any good at doing what he was supposed to, he wouldn't be here, would he?

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

They were four blocks from the Waverider when they came upon an outdoor cafe on the edge of a park that Sara knew for a fact did not exist in Los Angeles.  At least no Los Angeles she had ever visited before.  Trees that were wrong from the Californian climate were thriving just beyond the grass line, which morphed the park into more of a dark forest that could have been taken right out of at least seven different fairy tales that she could think of off the top of her head.  The leaves swayed gently in the wind and twisted the darkness into strange shadows that seemed to beckon them closer.

They stopped at the cafe.  Like the abandoned cars and empty buildings they had passed on the way there, there was no living creatures aside from themselves around, but everything was set up as if there were.  Several of the tables had meals on them that were in various states of being consumed.  Sara walked over to one.  A half-a-cup of coffee and a nearly-finished blueberry muffin stared up at her.  She turned the cup like she would her own during breakfast and thought about the blackberry muffin she had had that morning.

Mick was inspecting another table, one that had an untouched sandwich on it, while Amaya looked more around the surrounding area and park.

“This is just creepy,” Amaya said.  “It's bad enough that there's no people.  But no birds?  No animals?”

“There were the dinosaurs,” Mick offered as he picked up the sandwich and gave it a sniff.

Acting as if she had not heard him, Amaya added, “No bugs?  What is this place?”

“No where I think we want to stay too long,” Sara said as Mick stuffed half the sandwich into his mouth.  Scrunching her nose, she turned away while Amaya looked pointedly away.

Raising an eyebrow, Mick asked, “Wha'?  I'm hungry.”

Several low, guttural sounding chirps came from the open door of the cafe.  It wasn't familiar or something that Sara could say that she really heard before, but she suddenly had the feeling that she sometimes got late at night back on Lian Yu when she was sure that some animal was watching her just beyond her line of vision.  Whatever it was, it was too small to be a T-Rex, but that didn't mean that it wasn't as dangerous as one.  Maybe even more so, if those stupid movies were to be believed.  Between the three of them, they could take it if it was the only one; but Sara knew how this day was going thus far and really didn't feel like chancing fate again.

As the chirping continued, she took a chance and took her eyes off the entrance long enough to try and catch her teammates eyes.  Mick had dropped the sandwich and had his weapon pointed at the entrance before the chirping had even stopped, and Amaya's tense shoulders and planted feet warned of her readiness to fight.  Sara gripped her staff but subtly nodded her head back towards the way they came.  

Amaya gave her own nod in response and took a few steps back immediately.  Whatever it was, she didn't want to tangle with it either.

Mick pressed his lips into a deep frown and stayed where he was for a few heartbeats too long, but eventually also began to move back as well.  An abrupt hiss between her teeth was the only warning Sara was able to give him before his left leg kicked right into a metal chair.  It scrapped harshly against the concrete before banging into the matching metal table, which caused all the plates and cups on it to rattle.  

The three of them froze as the chirping stopped, and the tense world threatened to snap.  The click of something tapping against a polished floor then echoed out to them just before a long snout with sharp teeth.  It snorted as it stepped out of the cafe and turned its harsh gave towards them.  It was more birdlike than the movies depicted it as, but Sara recognized the creature that haunted her dreams for years after that night her dad had been in charge of movie night and had wanted to watch that new Spielberg movie about the dinosaurs.  (She and Laurel had shared a bed for a week afterward, and Dad had been bared from choosing the movie.)  

A T-Rex was one thing.  Velociraptors were something else.

It considered them for a moment – tilting its head from side to side as if it couldn't really decide what to make of them.  As it did so, Sara slowly reached up and activate her coms.

“Ray,” she said, “we've got a problem.”

She could hear the wind cutting around him when he answered, “What kind of problem?”

“A raptor kind,” Sara replied and never took her eyes off the creature that found them so fascinating.

There was a sharp pause from the other of the coms before Ray quickly said, “I'm on my way, but be careful, Sara.  Those things hunt –”

As Ray was speaking, the raptor tilted its snout towards the sky and gave off a couple of powerful and loud screeches.  In a moment, another raptor slipped from the cafe.  It considered with the same head tilt as the other but snapped in their direction aggressively.  Amaya flinched and took another step back as did Sara.  Mick, however, held as still as Sara had ever seen him.

From the corner of her eyes, Sara saw something move.  Another raptor jumped onto top of a nearby abandoned car and screamed at them, while a fourth and fifth emerged from the woods.  

Well, this wasn't good.

“Guys,” Sara said.  “Run!”

Just as she turned, a strong gust of wind blew against her.  She blinked at the sudden onslaught of air before noticing a boy standing next her.  He grinned impishly as he looked over the scene and then said, “Don't mind if I do.”

The kid seemed to disappear into a flash of light.  Sara turned to see where he went and saw the first raptor charging at Mick.  He opened fire, but before the flames could touch the dinosaur, something hit it in the side and sent it flying into a nearby brick wall.  It cracked nastily from the impact, while the creature laid motionless on the ground.  With its original target suddenly gone, the flames from Mick's gun instead hit the second raptor, which gave out a painful scream.  Ignoring Mick's comments about deep fried iguana, Sara searched for the boy.

Reappearing not far from Amaya, he looked around the park and said, “We've got a park now?  That's totally crash.”

Raptors four and five snapped at him and caused the kid to move closer to Amaya.

“Oh, yeah, kind of forgot about you two already,” he said sheepishly.  Turning to Amaya, he asked, “Like some help?”

A sharp screech stopped cut off the response and caused Sara to turn in the other direction.  Raptor four was coming right at her fast, which made Sara dodge sharply to the left so as to put a table between them.  It didn't stop the thing by any means, but she didn't expect it too.  Instead, when it jumped on top of the metal table, she dove under it.  The sheer weight of the beast was already overbalancing the furniture, so Sara knocked the lighter end up when she stood.  The table dumped the raptor onto the ground, which caused it to scramble back onto its feet and gave Sara a few precious seconds to try and put some distance between them.  

Sara was good, but she understood that a staff wasn't going to do much good in a fight like this.  They needed backup, now.

“Where are you, Ray?” she called into the coms.

“Not far,” he replied.  “I should be there in just a few minutes.”

A brush of air against her neck was the only warning that Sara got that the creature was right on her.  Running full tilt at a light pole, Sara dropped her staff at the same time that she jumped and then grabbed the pole.  Her momentum caused her to swing around and kick the raptor hard in the side.  It was knocked back into the street and off its feet again, which it clearly did not appreciate.

“We don't have a few minutes,” she shouted as she grabbed her staff and held it at the read.

The raptor growled as it lifted one foot and then another.  Its claws clicked against the asphalt, and it rather reminded Sara of an excited dog that was about to go after its favorite chew toy.  She adjusted her grip on her staff.  This wasn't going to be fun.

However, before it could take a single step, a powerful, screaming sound wave sent it flying through the air.  She force of the blast knocked it hard through a car's windshield, which shattered upon the impact.  The car itself shook a bit from the sound blast but remained still afterward.

Sara felt the air leave her chest as her blonde savior glanced her way.

“Laurel?” Sara asked.

Laurel didn't respond, just continued to stare at her with a frown.  However, before Sara could say anything else, another person walked up next to her sister.

He smirked at the scene before him and then asked, “Well, what do we have here?”

Again, Sara could only stare.

“Snart?”

[seiya-starsniper]

A Life Not Lived

Read on Ao3 [Link]

Ray had been feeling off ever since they came back from 1967. He couldn't explain why, but he felt like there were things he should know, but didn't. His head seemed fuzzy, like it was underwater, but not quite enough to drown him. It actually reminded him of his first blackout in med school, they had all just completed their finals and Tommy had brought a crate of rum to their dorms and-

...Med school? That didn't seem right. And yet...Ray had memories of anatomy books and clinicals, even though he knew none of his degrees (plural? he had multiple degrees, right? Right.) fell under medicine. He was an inventor, a physicist. Yet, even as he told himself these things, even though he knew them to be true, they were starting to sound wrong in his own head.

Ray realized something might not be right when he took one look at Rip Hunter and started cataloging the man's vitals, assessing his wounds, and trying to form a diagnosis (for what? a diagnosis for what?) in his head. He's shaken out of his own thoughts when Gideon starts talking about their recovered captain's head condition and something clicks in Ray's brain.

"Reprogrammed? The technology to alter the brain at that level doesn't even exist," Ray said. Yes, this was familiar to him. Technology. This was what he knew. "Unless, Rip's brain was somehow altered by impulses from the...from the..."

"From the ship's time drive?" Martin finished for him.

Shit. Ray thought. How could he not know that? He knew that. Didn't he?

Maybe he just needed to a take a walk and clear his head. He wasn't doing much good here anyway.

Ray knew something was definitely very wrong when he walked into the library and felt his heart catch in his throat when he looked at Nate. Seeing Nate sitting at a desk with a large book just looked wrong, even though Ray knew it was right. Nate was their researcher, their historian. He was supposed to be in a library, surrounded by books.

Suddenly, Ray sees himself facing Nate's back in a wide open studio.

"Nate Heywood?" Ray called out. The man in question turned around and gave Ray the most breathtaking smile.

"That's my name, don't wear it...out..." he trailed off. An awkward silence descended between the two as they gazed at one another. Ray had never felt so self-conscious in his life, and yet he couldn't tear his eyes away.  

"I, uh, I'm Doctor Palmer," the brunette stuttered, recovering his voice." I was, uhm, my friend Tommy recommended you to me," he explained.

"Oh. Oh right, right, right! Tommy, yes, you're Ray, the really stressed one right?" Nate asked.

"I uh, yeah. The stressed one. That's me. Tommy uh, he said you could help me out with that." Ray then realized what he said. "Uh, with yoga!" he clarified. "Right, because you're a yoga instructor and yoga is great for handling stress, yep."

Ray isn't sure who started laughing first, but he's pretty sure Nate's laughter is the most beautiful thing he's ever heard.

Well that was weird. Ray thought to himself. Nate was definitely not the type to do yoga.  Was he? Did Ray do yoga? Where had that vision come from? Ray had always been stressed at his job when he was CEO for Palmer Tech, but he had never been stressed enough to require yoga. He's also pretty sure he doesn't know someone named Tommy.

Ray didn't have much time to dwell on his thoughts though. As soon as she saw him, Amaya dove right into an explanation of the props Sara and Jax had recovered. To his horror, Ray realized he couldn't process what she was saying either. It was all in English, but it sounded like gibberish and he knew it shouldn't. Gideon bringing up the schematics for the time drive didn't help either. How was he supposed to know how to read schematics anyway? Amaya had looked skeptical when he mentioned it and asked about his PhDs.

"Psh, I don't have four-," Ray suddenly stopped as a wave of memories came crashing down on him. Heart surgery, med school again, a sunlight studio overlooking the Star City waterfront, and blood, so much blood. It was like his head was going into overdrive trying to add all these new life events. At the same time, the physicist felt like he was losing memories, which didn't make sense, one didn't just lose entire parts of their lives all at once.

"What's wrong?" Amaya asked, and then Ray found out he wasn't the only one having visions of a life that never was, but was fighting to be.

"I don't want to be a heart surgeon!"

"And I don't want to be a yoga instructor!"

Ray knew that it was the right thing to say, he knew that he wasn't meant to be a heart surgeon, and Nate wasn't meant to be a yoga instructor. They were an inventor and a historian, and more importantly, they were superheroes. Superheroes who were definitely not romantically involved.

And yet.

Ray couldn't explain why his heart felt so broken. He's afraid to look at Nate, afraid that he would see the exact rejection he feels so instead he keeps trying to implore George Lucas to go back to filming, so that he and Nate can go back to the way things were, and Ray could stop feeling this utterly crushing weight that was now between the two of them.

At the same time, Ray doesn't want these memories, however false they are, to go away just yet. So while Amaya tries to re-inspire the man who will shape his life, Ray lets the visions of this alternate existence wash over him. He's too afraid to look at Nate to see if the other man is feeling the same things he is.

Warmth. Nate's studio. The hospital. Ray's an important doctor there.  Their apartment. Their dog...dogs? They have dogs. Their life is peaceful here. Serene even.

"I love you, you know."

"I know. I love you too. Marry me?"

If Ray's lucky, he won't remember this happiness when they've fixed the time aberration.

With the time aberration fixed, the intricate knowledge of the human heart Ray's brain had been desperately trying to store finally began to fade.

The memories of Nate's studio don't. In fact, they're becoming clearer, and Ray's worried he'll no longer be able to look the historian (historian, not yoga instructor) in the eye. Ray's not sure if focusing in on his life with Nate (his Nate, in this alternate life) caused the memories to somehow implant themselves in his brain, or if those memories just needed some extra time to slip from his mind. Ray's conflicted about which route he wants them to take.

"Ray!" Nate called out suddenly, snapping the scientist out of his thoughts. "Wait up!"

"...hey buddy!" Ray tried for a smile, but even to him, it felt forced and unnatural. "What's going on?"

"You've been acting...well...I mean, something's wrong still, isn't it?" Nate tentatively asked. He looked like he wanted to say something else but held himself back. Ray wanted so desperately to ask him how much he saw of their other life, but he's scared. So he shrugged instead.

"It's nothing Nate, don't worry about-"

"Is this about us being together if George Lucas doesn't make movies?" the historian blurted out suddenly.

Ray thought he might faint.

"T-together?" the scientist stuttered out. It couldn't be, it had just been him having the visions, right? Nate hadn't indicated at all that he knew anything about their other life.  

"Yeah, Ray, like together...together Oh God, it wasn't just me having those visions right, I shouldn't have said anything, you probably think I'm crazy or-"

"No!" Ray yelped, his brain finally catching up to him. "No, you're not crazy at all. I mean, I thought I was the only one still having them."

"Still?" Nate inquired.

"...You're not?" Ray replied, suddenly feeling sick.

"No, I mean yes! I mean, sort of? I don't know, everything's been a bit fuzzy lately, I don't know. I just, I don't know, I really didn't want to be a yoga instructor, but then you...I..." The historian seemed at a loss for words. "I didn't want anything to do with that life except for you," he finally admitted and Ray felt his heart soar.  

"I think it was about the only thing I wanted to happen," the physicist responded, a smile forming on his face. "Everything else about that life, our jobs, our routines, all of that felt wrong. But not you." The smile had turned into a full on loopy grin now, and Ray knew he probably should care, but he didn't.

"Ray," Nate breathed. Ray thought he could get used to him saying his name that way.

"Yeah?" he asked, feeling just as breathless.

Nate took one step, then two more, and  then suddenly they were practically pressed against each other. There was a brief period where neither of them dared to move, least they ruin the moment, and then Ray dipped his head and crashed his lips into Nate's.

There's a hot flash of memories, the most intense Ray's felt so far, as he's kissing Nate. The feeling is both new and familiar, like his body knows the experience is new, but his mind contradicts that information. When Nate bites on his lower lip, Ray sees a candlelit bedroom and feels sheets wrinkle under his grip. When the blonde's lets Ray's tongue into his mouth, the brunette can smell autumn and coffee, with just a hint of antiseptic.

And then...everything is gone.

Ray pulled away at the sudden loss. He tried desperately to recall anything, the studio, the room...but his traitorous mind comes up blank.

"What's wrong?" Nate asked, panic evident in his voice. "Was that not good, I could try again, I-"

"No, no, no, that's not it, everything you did was perfect and amazing," Ray assured him. "It's just I...I can't remember anything about, back then anymore."

"...huh, neither can I," Nate remarked. "Maybe it's a sign," he offered after a moment.

"A sign?" Ray inquired.

"Yeah," Nate shrugged. "Clean slate, you know? Our first kiss wasn't in a yoga studio, it was now. If you ask me, honestly, I like this version better."

"Yeah me too," Ray smiled. "Although, that other life had a lot of kisses, so I think we have a lot make up for," he added already leaning back into his newfound lover.

Ray's glad that the one thing that hasn't changed between both lives is how much he loves Nate's laugh.