This chapter started off with crack, but did happened. We learned you need to appreciate the people around you before their gone. Sick people did jacked up things. Pairs reminded us life is short, so after six months…here this is. This chapter is where we tried plot for the first time and writing with a serious tone. You won't believe what we did.

You shall tear up, we demand it.

Next chapter soon, we have motivation now. It will possibly be filled with x500000 the crack. But now, serious tone.

...

Maybe he was going about everything completely wrong.

Or just really wrong.

Maybe he was going about everything so completely wrong that it was right...

Skiadrum couldn't put a single claw on it, but something was wrong with the current situation. Something was missing. A very important variable had somehow been locked out of the equation. The very thought of it sent his head into a whirlwind of unfathomable confusion.

The dragon rubs his claws over his eyes again, tired, restless, and so freaking confused. Everything was in place... but it wasn't? He wouldn't be sleeping until he found it. The THING.

His friend had told him to shrug it off. To shrug it off. Everything was good as it was, but a Shadow Dragon never listens.

The damn Mirajane was probably a liar, anyway. After all, she is a demon. She is not worthy of children. He'll probably steal hers, as well.

Not until LuOgue is dealt with!

LuOgue, the name that Skiadrum had decided to name the operation, was perfect. (Not as perfect as their babies, you sick minded Neanderthals!)

He picks up a picture of Lucy and Rogue that he had taken on their da- What are you talking about? Psshh... He wasn't on their date! Ha! What a laugh!

On it's way up to his eyes, he accidentally cracks the picture frame, but he doesn't care.

"LuOgue." He whispers, eyeing the picture. "After all, it was the two of 'u' in it..."

In the photo he held in his claws, he reached behind the frame and opened up the back. Behind the photo, two yellowed, fragile, pieces of paper fell out of the square indent.

Skiadrum picked up the piece of paper, barely bigger than his longest claw, and looked at the first.

There on the paper was a perfect claw mark etched into the paper forever with deep black ink. Where Skiadrum's large thick claws were straight, the claw print's maker had long, curled, thin claws.

This was Nictrilli's mark.

It's been so long for him, since she disappeared. His love…he missed her. He put his claw over the imprint of her own.

His eyes, or what was left of them, burned.

The other picture he took gingerly was an etching of her. The only visual representation of Nictrilli he had besides his memories. Seeing something of her made everything come back.

He remembered Rogue crying by the cave they lived, screaming for Nictrilli. He remembered the first time Rogue walked, hanging onto Skiadrum's shadow for support. He remembered Rogue screaming and crying at his touch but quieting as soon Nictrilli blew a soft huff of air across his face. He remember the great storm of water after the earthquake hit, the tsunami, and listening to an infant's heart wrenching cry as Nictrilli begged him to find the baby. He remembered Nictrilli's tears as she heard the little heartbeat of the last of her eggs slowly fade, then silence. He remembered the first time she told she wanted a family. He remembered when they pledged themselves together. He remembered the first time they kissed. The first time she tried to attack him for eating a human. He remembered the first time, covered in blood over a battlefield, he saw the enemy and met her eyes.

He remembered the day she said she thought human babies were so adorable, she just might steal one, laughing her wind chime laugh.

He dropped the photo, angry. She was gone and there were only memories of her left in this world, there was nothing to touch or hold. She was gone.

Pain was what was left. It seemed like pain was all they could attract in their relationship. Memories long buried seemed scratched up, dug out from a graveyard.

Rogue had been the only one that had lived, even if he wasn't hatched in their nest. Well, he was the only one—hatched or born—that had lived to see their first birthday.

One. There had been one, the last one before Rogue. He'd looked so much like his mother, and he'd been so bright and lively. He'd scrambled and tumbled around the nest, struggling to open his baby wings. Skiadrum had been so proud, and so had Nictrilli.

They had been away from their nest for only a couple minutes. Only a couple minutes when they had both been looking for their next meal to stay alive in the dead of the harshest winter either of them had seen.

It'd been him. Acnologia. He killed their baby.

Nictrilli wouldn't speak, and the only sounds were the sounds of anguish and grief. She'd begun talking again only that night...that night they found the flooded village and the bodies and the baby nearly drowned to death hidden in the debris.

Nictrilli had taken him home, and even though he was only the fraction the size of their baby, Nictrilli had hugged the baby close to her side as Skiadrum wrapped his wings and tail around his mate and the…thing. The baby didn't replace their baby, nothing could but he was theirs now, and they would love him and keep safe. And as tradition, they waited until he could crawl, and they gave him a name.

Ryos.

Ryos was an odd baby. He liked to do weird things like eat dirt, and play around in the mud. He threw vegetables at his parents. (To this day, he refuses to eat broccoli.) The child often dug holes in the ground to hide, or would stealthily climb trees.

Nictrilli knew what was to happen. She would teach him Celestial Dragon Slayer Magic. She would dream of the day that she'd be able to share with him the wonders of light within darkness. He would become so immersed in the stars and the light that the evil would never be able to corrupt him.

Such a funny thing that would discuss as they looked back. She thought that the Celestial Magic would drive him from evil, yet not even the Dragon Slayer with so-called holy attacks could stay in the light.

Rogue liked the night. It was so dark - such a beautiful color. The way that it soaked everything in, leaving nothing behind. Black became his favorite color in no time, and they guessed that that was okay.

Rogue liked the night. They way the trees swayed. The people were asleep, and he could live. He was alive in the night. They knew that that was normal and to be expected.

Rogue liked the night. The night felt right. It felt more complete than anything else in his life. He felt alive - truly alive - in the night. The night woke him from a slumber that he didn't know existed. They were okay with this. This was acceptable.

Rogue liked the night. It smelled like the breath of a paradise. Rogue lived for this smell as he saw the dark and listened to its tales. They got anxious with this. Just a little bit. It felt off.

Rogue liked the night. It was dark. Rogue liked living his life in the dark. They got scared - only slightly, yes, but dragons never got scared.

They decided on his first birthday.

Rogue liked the night.

Rogue hated stars.

His fate lied as a Shadow Dragon Slayer.

Many, many, years ago

"We cannot force him to choose the magic he wants to learn, it's as if asking him to choose whether he loves me more or you. He wants to learn your magic, love. I must say, the irony that hovers upon that sentence is very amusing."

Nictrilli understood him so well.

He sighed, watching his toddler son play among the fall leaves. He would throw them up in the air where their shadows would be speckle amongst the dying grass and he could play with counterparts of the leaves.

The male dragon looked on. "I used to terrorize these humans, yet now I have one as son, learning of my shadows. Weisslogia has a son too, learning light. I have a feeling
their destinies are intertwined."

"You think it is romantically?"

"What? No. Rogue falling in love with that blonde haired brat who bit me I ought to…"

"Skiadrum, do not worry. I see the stars in him."

"What? No, no, he is learning my magic. Is he not?"

"I mean like with us. Shadows and stars. That is what we are, is not true? He will fall in love with one of the stars, not a beam of light. I almost see her already…" The feminine dragon lowered head made up of nothing but celestial energy.

"Love?" she asked.

"Yes?" he pressed.

"Would we still have Rogue if not Astraeus had…?"

Astraeus, their baby they had been ripped away from him. The baby that would have been only months older than Rogue. The baby that…perhaps…was the reason they adopted Rogue to cope with their loss of a child. Did they lose one, and only found solace in gaining another?

Skiadrum pushed his head up against Nictrilli's in a playful, but caring head bang... thing.

Nictrilli found him to be so strange, her husband. He did these weird things, made odd comments, and talked funny, but he still seemed to be so amazing in her eyes. He was by no means perfect, and wasn't exactly the smartest in the bunch, but she could never find it in herself to care about those imperfections. They spent time together, and those little things disappeared into thin air. They didn't matter. They'd never matter. He was too adorable for those little things to matter.

They put each put a claw up against the others, whispering among themselves memories from too long ago. Slowly, their claws curved into a hand hold. She wasn't sure what was happening, as this moment seemed to be the only thing in the world, talking with him.

"PAPA!"

Skiadrum turned to look behind him back at their son, checking to see what was happening.

Leaves were strewn throughout the field, frozen in their flight. Rogue had his little hands in a fist, literally holding the shadow of a crimson colored branch.

"He has talent." Nictrilli murmured.

"Luck." Skiadrum huffed.

"Seriously?" The female chuckled. She whistled and clicked as that was the sound of her laughter. She stretched her wings.

"Let us make sure be never grows up," she whispered.

"You cannot stop time," Skiadrum pointed out.

Her slitted eyes sparkled.

"But I can remember this forever."

Rogue had been making this look lately. But it's not just any look. His eyes looked almost glazed in the midst of conversation. He'd make these off comments. He was trying to tell her stuff without actually speaking to her specifically.

Those eyes. His face. His voice.

Longing.

Okay, yeah, she knew about blah blah blah this and he loves her that, but she's never been a relationship before. She's never dated anyone before. She's never felt such a strong romantic attraction for another human being before.

So she's confused?

Like, seriously.

How does she deal with this!? What does she do!? She doesn't know how to react!

So she blushes. Yeah, she blushes a lot. And she smiles, too. She's just adorable like that. She ends up avoiding most advances, but believe us, she's aware.

Her blonde locks get curled and played with (which she absolutely loves). He whispers little nothings that he wanted her to hear, but didn't. Human beings are just indecisive like that. And yet still she misses his words.

And just when things are going so smoothly, she realizes that he doesn't know. His head's in the right place, but they're so different, and he doesn't know. They've talked so much, but he doesn't know.

Goddammit, it's her mother's freaking death anniversary and he's off spending time with one of the perverts!

By her mother's grave she sat, kneeling while watering the new and old flowers. She was sad, yes, but not as much as previous years. She missed her mother just the same, but she knew she was happier. Her gravesite, alone next to her father on a field to themselves, was adorned with decorations.

Rogue was off with the dragon slayers doing God knows what. Since that second date there had been chance encounters at the market or at the park. The had talked, spoken and shared whispers of affectionate nature. Was this what love was? She didn't know. Skiadrum had been oddly quiet the last few weeks not interrupting them or on some conquest for his son to lose his virginity. It was nice. And nothing happened because a dragon wanted it to.

This was everything she had said to the grave.

"I miss you."

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and looked towards the engraved name. She sniffled.

Rogue was off with that gang of dragon slayers. She mattered too you know! He'd been oddly absent the last week.

She sat there for a while, watching her shadow move with the sun. She missed her mom.

To her fright a long snaking tail passed by her and the stone, curling. Skiadrum.

She spun ready to curse and scream, but when she looked the shadow dragon blocked the sun, staring with his white eyes.

Lucy had felt it rude to ask Rogue if his father was blind. Eyes that color except when a spell was being cast were rare. Skiadrum never looked at what had instigated noise, but at it... she tried to put it on words. Maybe he could really see and maybe he couldn't, but those eyes weren't looking at her.

Then she noticed. The grave.

About to scream at him to leave. The dragon passed his claw by her head and over the stone. He grazed it with his claw, then lowered his head so close Lucy could feel the heat that pulsed from his fiery breath. He dropped something out from the grip of his mouth.

A rose, pale beige in color.

Silent as a shadow, words that she heard but did not see spoken drifted through the wind. It seemed lodged in the shadow if the trees leaves, twinkling and splattered both dragon and girl.

"We've all lost someone, but we move on."

She looked at the nothingness, then felt an anger in her

"How? How do I move on?" The Mage whispered, looking down at her hands in guilt and sorrow.

Even as she asked these questions, she knew the answer. She's already moving on. Slowly but surely, she was moving on from her mother's death.

Today was a little bit easier.

But that just made her feel worse.

Her mother didn't deserve such mediocrity! Layla Heartfilia needs to be remembered! Lucy can practically feel their memories together fading away!

Don't go! Don't go! DON'T LEAVE!

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

She's doing the thing again. Beating herself up about things that are far beyond her control. She does that a lot. She finds a flaw and thinks about it and thinks about it and begins twisting it until it becomes a rubber band. SNAP!

She wipes her eyes again, looking towards the Dragon. The silent company was better than nothing. She needs someone, she needs to feel better. In this moment, despite the distance in their heads, their hearts ache together. She doesn't know what had made him feel so terrible, but at least she knows that there's someone to lean towards. Not even lean on. Leaning towards his direction was fine by itself.

She leans her head onto her right shoulder slightly, eyes releasing a new wave of tears.

Do dragons cry? She didn't know. She'd barely had any experience with any of the creatures. Skiadrum seemed to understand her pain.

"Rogue is not with you because he is mourning his own mother."

Lucy stopped and wiped her face looking at the dragon who, being one of the greatest creatures ever to walk the earth, had lowered himself to her height.

"For dragons, we cannot take only a day to remember the one we lost. Bonds form from hundreds of years, and losing one means losing part of yourself. "

He let out a great sigh, more like a warm wind flowing and making Lucy's hair fly up.

"It takes days, maybe a week for one of us to do a task such as you do now. Humans have relationships, we have bonds. It's more instinctual than social. We are truly part of that person.

"My mate has a close death date to your mother. We have...I guess a grave for her also. There is a marker of her presence right next to our son, there forever..."

"You had another son?" Lucy whispered.

The dragon nodded. "Before Rogue. He was our only egg that hatched, but... Acnologia killed him."

The dragon got up, refusing to say more perhaps. "Rogue is the only dragon slayer that grew up with a bonded pair of dragons. Natsu nor Gajeel nor Wendy nor even Sting have ever seen a true bond. They are or will be sloppy, and are in no rush to have what they haven't seen. Rogue knows the happiness of me and Nictrilli." He looked to the sky. "And he wants that happiness with you."

…

Love is love.