#gen would NOT stop headbutting me while looking this up

[timelessmulder]

spinarak

OH A CUTE FRIEND

[sergeantsporks]

What Greater Good Do I Have Than You?

Rating: Gen, General Audiences

The titans' hunger must be sated, Merlin knows this. But he wishes he weren't the one who had to do it

@alovesongshewrote said something about “do you think Merlin would kill Douxie for the greater good” and my brain went clickity clack and here we are :D

Ao3

The titans had to be fed.

It was necessary. To maintain order. Balance. Magicians lived forever if not killed—and yet more and more would be born.

So every millennium, a wizard had to die. They had to be killed where their magic could return to the earth, replenishing the earth’s supply, keeping the titans asleep and the Order happy.

That was Merlin’s purpose. It was his calling. It was why he’d been born—to maintain the greater good, to choose a young wizard every millennium to die. To train them, to grow and shape their magic into the perfect vessel, then kill them like a sacrificial lamb.

To raise children for the slaughter.

Again and again.

Apprentices gained and lost.

It became routine. He had to kill them. He needed to kill his apprentice.

Not this one.

He didn’t have a choice—this was how the balance was maintained.

Not Hisirdoux.

He’d killed his last apprentice around a century ago. That one had been harder—that one had grabbed his hand, with tears in her eyes, and had asked simply, why? She hadn’t begged for her life, hadn’t fought back. Simply asked why. He’d needed a break, needed to take a step back from all of the killing.

Arthur had handed him an apprentice on a silver platter, his sister, Morgana. Considerate, given that the fool kept slaughtering magicians in his war against magic. A waste. So many magical lives lost, but none of them in the right place or the right way to maintain the balance.

But Morgana grew too powerful too fast. She forged her own path, far too quickly. Merlin wasn’t able to shape her magic, and she never listened to him.

So when he stumbled across a spellcaster nearly getting his head sliced off by Arthur’s knights, he stepped in. The boy was appropriately grateful. Said he owed Merlin his life.

Something about that hit a nerve. Something about… never mind. It didn’t matter. He had an appropriate sacrifice, and it was time to begin to mold his magic.

Hisirdoux was one of the worst apprentices Merlin had ever had. He was clumsy, used magic as a shortcut to everything, and didn’t follow instructions properly ever.

It was all oddly endearing.

And as he spent more and more time with Hisirdoux (and he had to spend lots of time with him, had to oversee most of his training personally instead of assigning a book to read, because the boy would not learn the spell right if he just read it out of a book, by the seven rings, Merlin was starting to think he was doing it on purpose) he started to… grow fond of him. He found himself wondering if he could skip the sacrifice this time.

But that was ridiculous. He couldn’t—even if he did, Hisirdoux wouldn’t live long enough for it to matter, because the Order would note the lack in the balance, the titans would awaken, and they would all be destroyed.

Maybe he could find a replacement?

What was he thinking?! He’d never taken more than one apprentice at a time, what if one of them asked what had happened to the other? He couldn’t risk Hisirdoux becoming friends with some other apprentice and then trying to prevent their death!

He still found some girl spellcaster anyway, rescued her from Arthur’s knights. She headbutted him in the face and ran away as thanks. So that plan went out the window.

He had time, he had plenty of time, he had 900 years to find a replacement. Or find a way to stop growing so blasted attached to this oaf of an apprentice who broke everything he touched and would likely break his old heart as well.

In the past, Merlin had always managed to find some flaw with his apprentices, one that he exaggerated in his mind until he could pretend it wasn’t such a horrible thing to kill them.

Hisirdoux’s only flaw appeared to be that he cared a little too much. His sweet, trusting apprentice that looked up to him. That and he was clumsy. Merlin could work with that.

So he blew his apprentice’s clumsiness out of proportion. He scolded him every time he dropped something, expressed exasperation that he couldn’t do anything right.

Part of him hoped Hisirdoux would get fed up with it all and run away, where Merlin could never find him again.

But of course he didn’t. No. Of course not. Hisirdoux stayed, no matter how many times Merlin yelled at him, always with that same quiet determination, always sticking with him no matter how hard it got.

He was so determined to become a master wizard, to get his wizard’s staff. Merlin almost wanted to give him one, wanted him to live long enough to become a master wizard.

Morgana was right.

He was an old fool.

And then, one day, he found his apprentice locked in a wardrobe, under a sleeping spell.

Even though he’d just seen his apprentice a few moments ago.

Wonderful.

He confronted the other Hisirdoux, and found out that he was from the future.

900 years to be exact.

Right around when it would be time for the sacrifice.

According to this other Hisirdoux, the Order had attacked them.

So he hadn’t managed to kill Hisirdoux. Hadn’t even tried, based on the way his apprentice treated him.

It was… relieving to hear. Far too relieving, he told himself, considering that it heralded the end times.

When this future Hisirdoux kept arguing, kept pressing him, he shouted that he wouldn’t lose another apprentice. He’d been talking about Morgana, but he realized he couldn’t lose Hisirdoux. He couldn’t kill him, couldn’t kill a single other apprentice, and especially not Hisirdoux.

But… Hisirdoux hadn’t come alone. He’d brought along a young sorceress.

The wheels started turning in Merlin’s mind. He watched as Hisirdoux began to train the girl. As if he knew what a master wizard taking on an apprentice meant—as if he knew what came at the end.

But still.

Still the gears in Merlin’s head clicked quietly, formulating a new plan. The timing would be tricky, there would be such a small window. It wasn’t worth the risk, he shouldn’t go through with it.

But then, timing things was exactly his forte.

Hisirdoux would get his staff. He would be a master wizard.

With all that it entailed.

Still, when Merlin gave him the staff, he didn’t tell him the price of being a master wizard.

He didn’t tell his apprentice his original fate, the fate he was now changing. No, that was a job for himself in 900 years.

They sealed away Morgana, and the gears once again began turning.

Wait 900 years.

Bring the frozen Morgana to the Primal Heartstone.

Free her.

Perform the ceremony.

The magic might not be perfect, since he never had trained her very well, but it would do.

Hisirdoux didn’t ever need to know. He could keep his apprentice, and he didn’t have to put his burden, his heavy, heavy burden, on his son’s shoulders. He could continue on quietly, continue on loathing himself while Hisirdoux lived a long, happy life with his student.

Yes. This would work.

It didn’t work.

Things went wrong from the moment the trollhunter woke him up. And before he knew what was happening, Morgana was dead, and he was back to square one.

Kill Hisirdoux, or put his own burden on his apprentice’s shoulders?

Merlin watched as his son tumbled down into the time portal. He was running out of options!

Douxie returned moments later with his staff.

Maybe it was too late. Maybe it was all over.

No. No. He’d spent too long protecting this world, keeping the balance, losing his own soul to do so. He couldn’t stop now, not now that he finally had someone else to live for. Someone that he was actually protecting the world for.

Young Claire insisted that they go after the trollhunter. Merlin heaved a deep sigh.

“I know of a way to put off the order,” he admitted, “It will delay them for a millennia—that may give us an opportunity to retrieve Jim Lake Junior.”

“Then we’ll do it,” Hisirdoux said confidently.

Blast.

There was only one way to keep Hisirdoux alive. And there was absolutely no way for him to not find out.

Merlin had the ability to open a portal to one singular place. One of fate’s cruel machinations. And open it he did, taking Hisirdoux and Claire through to a place below trollmarket, to the last remaining Primal Heartstone. He sucked in a deep breath.

“Hisirdoux. You wanted to become a master wizard. I have granted you your staff, but there is one last thing I must teach you.”

Claire balked. “I don’t like this place.”

Before she could react, Merlin bound her to the heartstone with his magic. Hisirdoux yelped.

“Master! No! What are you doing?!”

“To keep the balance, to delay the order, a sacrifice must be made. A sacrifice of magic.

“No! You can’t! Not to Claire!”

Merlin could see it. The moment the realization hit him.

“Wait… Were you… planning to kill me?”

Merlin didn’t answer, but he was sure his silence said just as much.

Hisirdoux’s eyes filled with tears, and he gasped like he couldn’t breathe. “This whole time—you were planning on killing me? From the moment you rescued me in the alley—you saved me just so you could kill me later?!”

Merlin created a knife with his magic and held it hilt out towards his son. “Hisirdoux, it is the only way to keep the balance! Master must kill the apprentice—you said you wanted to be a master wizard, well, this is what it entails!”

Hisirdoux pushed the knife away, standing in front of Claire, his arms out. “Then do it. Kill me, like you originally planned. Because I won’t let you harm Claire.”

“Douxie, no!” Claire yelled. Her eyes sparked with magic, but the place was designed for the slaughter of wizards. Merlin’s magic held her.

Hisirdoux’s shoulders were trembling, but he managed a smile. “It’s okay, Claire. This way you can save Jim.”

Merlin’s own hand was shaking on the knife. “Hisirdoux, move! I don’t want to kill you! If you won’t kill Miss Nunez, then I’m afraid I will have to, but I will not lose you!”

“No! If you want to kill someone, if you really think that it’s necessary to save the world… I’m not going to let it be my friends. The only reason I’m alive today is because you planned to kill me. I’m not supposed to be here—my life is forfeit anyway. So do it. Let Claire live.”

Merlin raised the knife, his whole body shaking so hard he thought he might stab himself. Hisirdoux squeezed his eyes shut.

Merlin’s arm fell. “I can’t,” he whispered, so quietly he could barely hear himself.

His son turned his face away, tears leaking out of the corners of his closed eyes. “What are you waiting for? Just do it!”

Merlin hurled the knife down to the ground with a clang. “I CAN’T!” he shouted. He released the magic holding Claire. “Kill me instead,” he told Hisirdoux, collapsing to his knees in front of the heartstone, “I cannot kill you, and you will not kill Claire. So kill me instead.”

“What? No! We’ll find another way!”

“I might kill him,” Claire offered.

Merlin transferred the discarded knife to Hisirdoux’s hands with a spell. “Do it. I’ve killed so many apprentices. I cannot continue doing this—please. Avenge them. It is only fitting for me to die at the hands of my own apprentice, after I killed so many. Kill me, stave off the Order, save the trollhunter. You’ll have a millennium to find your other way—I could have looked for another way, should have looked for another way all this time. But I didn’t. That is my failing.”

Hisirdoux dismissed the knife in a puff of blue smoke, offering Merlin a hand up. “No. No more deaths, no more sacrificing wizards to this. We’re finding another way. We’ll save Jim. We’ll fight the Order. But I’m not going to continue this cycle.”

“Is every life so precious to you?” Merlin mumbled, “Even a life as decrepit and horrendous as my own?”

“Every life. We just lost Jim—I’m not losing anyone else. Not like this.” Hisirdoux pulled Merlin up to his feet. “You want to make up for what you did to your other apprentices so badly? You won’t do it by dying. You have to live, and repair the mistakes you made. You can accomplish good things, I know it, but you can’t do that if you die here.”

Merlin felt his eyes grow suspiciously wet. “What could I possibly accomplish that would be greater than saving you?”

His son’s eyes teared up, but he brushed them away and nodded to the still-open portal. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Ponder (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Gen Warnings: None Characters: Shachi, Law

Shachi thought he'd got used to Law's odd moods by now. It had been nearly a year since he and Penguin had met the grumpy kid, and during that time they'd never parted company for more than a few hours at a time. He wouldn't say he was the most observant person in the world, but he'd noticed plenty about the younger boy and thought he had him sussed. There was one day fast approaching that he expected Law to go full sulk mode for, but that was still a little way off, unless he was misremembering.

This didn't seem like a day of mourning for his captain, though. Law wasn't hiding away or sulking or any of his other tells for "really not in the mood for your nonsense today, Shachi" days. He was a little quieter than usual – an impressive feat – and seemed lost in his own head more often than not, needing Penguin to snap his fingers more than once when his attention was required.

Patience was not one of Shachi's stronger suits.

"What is it?" he demanded, crouching in front of where Law was supposedly looking through notes on the floor of their library. The younger boy jumped and looked up from his arm – a regular draw for his eyes since he'd woken up that morning. Shachi had caught him running his fingers up and down the skin more than once, like he'd done back when the white was obvious.

It wasn't obvious now; the casual eye would never see it and Shachi could only spot the faintest of decolouration because he knew it was there. Law hadn't messed with it in months.

"What is what?" Law asked, a genuine curiosity in his voice that told Shachi he hadn't realised his unusual mood was obvious. Asking the question could go one of two ways – either his captain would clam up and get sulky, or he'd answer. Whether the possible answer would be truthful was another matter entirely. Still, Shachi bit the proverbial bullet. Not asking meant a sleepless night later – he'd learnt that one that hard way.

"You've been acting off all day," he said bluntly. "What's eating you?"

"I have not!" Law protested, and there were the hackles. He was on the verge of clamming up and Shachi really didn't want that. Some sleep later would be much appreciated.

He reached out and caught Law's arm, catching the other off guard as he carefully but firmly pulled it towards him and ran his own finger lightly over the skin, mimicking Law's earlier movements.

"You haven't turned a page the entire time I've been here," he began, feeling Law stiffen. "You didn't notice me arrive, either. Penguin keeps having to make noise to get your attention at all, and I don't think you've so much as glanced at Bepo all day. I've never seen you this unaware of your surroundings."

"It's nothing," Law claimed, turning his head away, and Shachi rolled his eyes. Did Law not know that it's nothing was an admission that there was something and that it was bothering him? He tightened his hold on the arm in his hand as Law tried to pull away.

"So what is it that it's distracting you constantly?" he challenged. "I'd ask if your arm was bothering you, what with the way you can't stop looking at it, except I know full well that if it's playing up you'd have shut yourself away in the infirmary hours ago, so don't you try and pull that one on me."

"It's none of your concern," Law countered, and Shachi chuckled because every denial was getting weaker. If Law was caving that easily, then victory was already his. "Don't try," his captain added, narrowing his eyes in clear suspicion.

Shachi tugged on his arm sharply, catching him off balance so that he fell forwards, across his notes, and landed firmly against Shachi's braced body. Wrapping his arms firmly around him so that he couldn't wriggle away, he rested his cheek on the smaller boy's head.

"If it's bothering you and you haven't found a solution yet I'm making it my concern," he declared, feeling smaller hands pushing against his chest with far less strength than he knew Law was capable of, and waited for him to crack.

"There isn't a solution," Law grumbled. "There isn't a problem. Everything will be normal tomorrow."

"Well if there isn't a problem and this mysterious thing only lasts a day…" Shachi trailed off, feeling a smirk against his neck as Law seemed to sense victory. He was quick to correct him. "Then you'd better tell me today while it's active." Law started to struggle again.

"I just told you it's not a problem!" he complained, and Shachi shrugged, unconcerned.

"Problem or not, it's got you acting weird and now you're telling me it's something that just lasts a day… You seem very certain on that but you also said there isn't a solution, so that sounds like it's the date that's got you in a twist, am I right?"

Law was a good liar, but his resounding no was betrayed by the way his body stiffened in Shachi's hold. Confident he was on the right track, the ginger continued.

"Well you're not sad or shutting yourself away," unlike that day a several weeks ago when you got really angsty and refused to say a word, "so you're not grieving. But this is the anniversary of something for you, right?"

"Wrong," Law muttered, but Shachi was long past being fooled by half-muffled words with no conviction behind them.

"Well you're not sad or happy about it, but you're not quite neutral either," he carried on as if Law hadn't said anything. He noted with interest that the younger boy had stopped squirming to escape and seemed resigned to his fate. Not as bothered as he pretended about Shachi figuring him out? Shachi sat in silence for a moment, thinking things over before the puzzle slot itself together.

"Hey, Law," he started. "It's not your birthday, is it?"

Law let out a breath in clear defeat before nodding – headbutting Shachi in the chin as he did so, and the ginger was certain that wasn't wholly unintentional.

"You could have just said so," he huffed, finally loosening his grip on Law. The younger boy didn't pull away. "Did you want to celebrate?" They'd celebrated both his and Penguin's birthdays when they'd passed, after all. Law shook his head, and Shachi frowned, now confused. His deductions had got him so far, but now Law had him stumped. "Then…"

"I was supposed to die when I was thirteen," Law said suddenly, his voice still muffed in Shachi's neck. "I should never have reached my fourteenth birthday."

That explained a lot – both the obsession with his arm, or more accurately the reminder of his old disease, and his lost countenance.

"Well," he said, refusing to let Law slip back into that lost state now that he was dragging him out of it. "You have. What are you going to do about it?"

"Huh?" Law's head shot up in surprise, once again clipping Shachi's chin sharply on the way. Shachi pouted and rubbed the afflicted spot. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said," he replied. "You're fourteen. What are you going to do now?"

Law's mouth opened and closed a few times soundlessly, and Shachi shook his head before standing up, pulling the smaller boy with him.

"Well as you can't decide, I'm going to decide for you," he said firmly, cutting Law off as he opened his mouth again – this time clearly to protest. "You're coming with me into the kitchen, where I am making you a hot chocolate with all the trimmings, then tonight we're having one of those sleepovers because I know you like them more than you admit. Today is a day of celebrating that you beat whatever stupid thing decided you were gonna die a kid, got it? And tomorrow, you can go back to planning that feathered bastard's demise."

Law's open jaw shut with an audible clack and Shachi grinned victoriously when he allowed himself to be led out of the library, and straight into the kitchen.

"Oh, and Law?" he said, gaining a noise of acknowledgement. "Happy birthday."

[paragonrobits]

Could you do a karezi of them being in love in a tree house in earth c??? Pretty please

I also posted this on fanfiction.net and my AO3!

The wind blew, hard and strong and it was like a memory, of adistant time, and the smell was like somethingfrom Alternia, but not. Some other alien thing, hints of a world theyhelped make in another time, another place, when they were bothyounger and dumber and not exactly ready to hold hands and divehorn-first into hearts like wrigglers about to bite something thatwas gonna bite back a lot harder-

But Alternia. SGRUB. Everythingelse, every dumb mistake in other timelines only remembered stronglywhen Terezi is close, it could have been a thousand sweeps ago orjust two or three. It felt the same. Distant and lost and not reallyeither of their problem anymore. Old hurts, old faults and old woundsjust... faded away. Bad blood draining out a wound, and the scarshealed just fine, and the infection was long since gone.

Karkat smelled the air, his eyesclosed, doing it as she did.He did his best to pretend that he was totally getting this crap, hewas understanding the lessons of dragons like someone who wasn'tbuilt mostly of bullshit and yelling real loud, but he felt somethingon the wind, a taste of something that noses couldn't tell you andeyes wouldn't help with. A memory carried on that wind, from someother person, a flash of emotions he'd never felt and thoughts he'dnever imagined on himself. A scrabbling, dirt-low thought that movedin a mind as fast as a river and about as complicated, excited andtoo quick to worry much about consequences.

Terezi sniffed the air too, herlips quirking into an odd smile, threatening to go full grin. “Iknow what it is,” she said, sing-song, words rising up and downwith her rumbling, deep voice in a way that was absolutely terrifyingand enormously attractive. WithTerezi, the two things blended together. She was all claws and spikyquill-hair and teeth that could bite his arm in half at the elbow andshe wanted to keep him alive andshit that really meant a lot. On Alternia, in the meteor, on this newworld.

(Maybe they had achance in another time line to get close on the meteor. Maybe theyscrewed that up. Maybe they'd drifted apart in this timeline for awhile, but yeah, okay, this was an new world. A new chance, a newplaces; she'd promised him she'd seen all the possibilities of oldtimelines, and this was a new world. A new place. A new chance, andshe sealed it with a kiss between his horns, soft as falling leaveson water.

Then they both fucked it up because he poked her in the eyewith his horn and she thought he did it on purpose so she headbuttedhim and that ended up with them both falling into a pile of leavesand holy fuck she was heavy and for some reasonthey were both laughing. So that was okay.)

“Okay, fine, I give up, whatthe shit, don't drag out the suspense.” Karkat tilted his head up,and up, and up some more at the room filling glory thatwas Terezi Pyrope, sitting down with her legs crossed andsickle-shaped toeclaw cutting a weird spiral into the wood floor.Dammit. She was grinning. “You're gonna drag it out. Aren't you?”

“Hell yeah.” She grinned,lips mostly a deep black a few shades darker than the beautifulobsidian tone of her chitin, tinted teal at the seam lines artfullyinscribed into her chitin to state her lineage and story. Those lips,full and thick and entirely capable of making his whole face grosslymoist with a single overexcited smooch, were half painted teal.Karkat fumbled with the tools in his hands, impatient to finish thejob. “Guess what it is.”

“Come on, tell me!”

“Nah. It's cheating. Guess!”

Karkat grumbled but he complied,casting his power into the air, feeling it tightly. He felt the flowof the grass and the echoes of seeds from a thousand years ago. Hefelt how this forest had grown, planted ages ago, and he felt theedges of words spoken hundreds of years before that, shaping mindsthat would come to speak other words that led one day to peoplecoming here and placing down seeds, and then a seed became this tree,and here they came, putting up a tree house and staying there,together, free and safe like he'd never been, and she wasn't alonelike she'd always been.

He knew blood, and all the thingsit flowed through. Blood wasn't just life-juice in veins. Blood waswill, life, unity, andhe knew it well.

He felt the air, and heunderstood the memory upon the wind, something that never would havesurvived Alternia. He sniffed. “Consort?” he guessed. Coldthoughts, excitable but also inclined towards the depths, fond ofsand and water, looking for a beach to build a home, and with a hintof rain to its memory... “Turtle. One of Lalonde's, I think? Rose'sturtles. One of her consorts.”

Terezi nodded sagely. “Yep! Yagot it.” She grinned again, and wiggled her clawed fingersimpishly. “I'm this closeto being proud of you.” Her fingers were held apart a fraction ofan inch apart. “Thiiiis close.”

“Put those fingers closer so Ican bite them.” He gnashed his teeth in mock-threat.

“What, and risk you bustingyour cute little wanna-be fangs on me?” She scoffed, and stuck heralarmingly long tongue out at him. It smacked him in the face. “Noway! I like your teeth. Wanna keep them nice and intact so I can putthem on a necklace if anything happens to you.”

“You're the soul of romance,”Karkat said dryly, wiping off a bit of spittle.

Terezi wound her tongue back. “Iknow!” It was hard to tell if she was being sarcastic and reallygood at hiding it, or if she was being sincere. Probably the latter,she was smiling too much for it to be one of her attempts to hide herreal feelings.

“...I could bust out a few ofmy teeth so you could have a necklace?” Karkat said, feeling likehe ought to at least try tomake her sense of style look like she wanted.

“What?” She blinked.

“There's probably a hammeraround here. I could take a couple whacks-”

“What, no.”her hands clasped his cheeks, eclipsing his head. “I forbid you totake any implements of smackery to your teeny, adorable face muffin!”she paused. “The hell is a face muffin... WHATEVER, don't tellanyone I said that!”

“Can I tell them you're beingprotective?” he mumbled. “It's kind of... oh god, please don'tput me in a toilet or something, I have to say this-”

“Don't you dare!”

“It's kind of cute you beingall protective.”

“OKAY FIRST OF ALL HOW DAREYOU.” She scooted back, arms crossed and her head tilted up to hidethat she was blushing very heavily. “I! Am a totallybadass troll, I have more badassin this pinky claw than you do in your whole body.”

He snorted, not disputing it.“Well, duh.“ Heconsidered her neck, bearing a little charm on it with the symbol ofhis ancestor upon it, worn in secret throughout her childhood as herown ancestor had done. “Some of my teeth would look pretty good onthat necklace. Hold on, let me find that hammer-”

Her arm curled around him. “No!”

“Let me be badass, dammit!”

“No way!”

“They'll grow right back,probably?”

“No!” Terezi crossed herarms, tugging Karkat into her lap and scowling so fiercely that itwas surprising that some of the tree house didn't light aflame fromher glare.

“Ugh, fine.”Karkat curled up against her thigh, her arm and her stomach. It wasreally comfortable there and despite how damn strong she was, verysoft. He poked her stomach. “You feel like a recuperacoon.”

She giggled despite herself,trying to cover her mouth. “Knock it off, you little shit-goblin!”

“Poke, poke!”

“Swear to your ancestor I will crush you between my thighs,you know I can!”

He paused, leaning against her,contemplating this. Terezi relaxed around him, leaning back andrumbling pleasantly as his head soaked into her. “Is that, uh.”He nuzzled her stomach, horns lightly sliding against her skin. “Isthat honestly a deterrent.”

“Suppose that depends on howthreatened you are,” she said, with a faint smile she wouldn't evershow so easily except around friends. But here, now, her personaswere allowed to slip, and she got to show the ones she could withoutworrying about image. She patted at her mouth. “So is this stuffdone, or what?”

“Oh, your lip paint and shit.”Karkat was quite comfortable where he was, but if she needed him todo a thing, then oh well for that. “No. Gotta finish it up.” hetried to scramble free.

“Oh, come on!” She hunchedover, scowling as Karkat loped slowly on all fours to the paint kit,most of them in shades of blue and green, and glowing faintly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, quiteunconcerned. “I haven't even finished with the base layer, you knowthere needs to be something forit all to be on before I apply the subtle bits.”

“And then the glowy stuff thatlooks cool?” she said, without really expecting it to be over soquickly.

“Sorry, that comes later. Theface paint too, if you want to sit still for that long.”

“Ugh.” Terezi sat back, quiteenjoying the feel of his hands on her face. “Fine, IGUESS.”

Karkat mixed them up asappropriate. Terezi leaned in, so he could take a soft brush, paintedteal, and slide it in slow, lovely strokes across her lips, makingthem a bright teal one stroke at a time.

Minutes passed in this way, softand calm and gentle. Neither of them had a lot of time for thepassionate, soul-searing kind of love. Passion had its charms, yeah,but, right here and now-

It was good to just have thingsbe soft, be sweet and quiet. To trust, and to be in love withoutworrying at all.

Terezi smacked her lips. Karkatgrunted in annoyance but left her to it. “One of these days,” hesaid, patiently keeping at it, admiring the artistic effect of herlips against the chitin. “You could learn to do this yourself.”

“What, and not have my personalmutant attendant do it for me? That sounds boring.”

He mumbled, almost missing astroke when his hands shook, and he couldn't stop himself fromsmiling.

More time passed, the two of themtogether like this and Terezi gently moved a hand up, trailing hisside and studying the shape of his shoulder, moving up. He hummedgently as her claws lovingly moving up the side of his face, thentowards his horns, cradling the back of his head and just sliding inand out, into his hair and out, and he resisted the urge to purr. Shedidn't, her blind eyes closed and her mouth smiling softer than shedared to show in public, and her contented rumbles made a few windowsshake and leaves fall out.

“So, uh.” She was stillsmiling, her eyes closed. “If I kissed you know, would it totallyjust screw up everything you did?”

“What, shit really?”He thought about it, the first impulse being something along thelines of 'hell yeah Pyrope go for it'.“Well, shit, if you wanna, I'm not gonna stop you.” Her mouth wasvery inviting, the curved blades of her teeth beauteously fierce.

Terezi made a pfftnoise. “It's not fun if youdon't whine a little first!” She leaned closer  to him, loomingover him like a dragon over its most treasured hoard. “But. I thinkI can deal with it.”

Her lips brushed against him,cool and soft, gentle as tree roots finding purchase in the mostverdant of soil. He leaned into the kiss, his heat warming her kissand it remained smooth ad calm, as steady as something they both hadso desperately needed, and now it was here, and it was safeand yes, this was love, not thekind of thing either of them had thought they needed with so manymovies telling them that love was hot and wild and ended in blood.

There is a kind of beauty inpeace, and in not being afraid anymore.

Terezi parted, it felt like yearslater than neither of them noticed. Karkat didn't bother to clean upthe teal, because he could still feel her breath on him and the smellof her on his face, and hell no tojust wiping that off. Instead he blushed, head tilted up and throatbared, and in such a position he was well equipped to kiss on thecheek.

She didn't giggle, or laugh, orrumble, but she did sigh contently, putting an arm up to loosely hughim.

All was right and well, for both.