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heli-writes · 2 months

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A dragon's heart

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: Heavy violence in the last part, throat cutting and gutting of human people, mentions of rape (no visual description!), swearing

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Part 1, Part 2

Series Masterlist

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People don't dare to speak about them out loud. Afraid that it would manifest them. They would only speak about them only in whispers behind closed doors. Fathers would tell their sons that it's better to flee than to fight. Don't play the hero. You can't win a fight against them, no one can. Mothers tell their daughters about the horrors they commit. You'd rather be dead than be captured by them. The women they don't kill after they're done, don't last more than a week. Y/n heard all the stories growing up. Some are more horrifying than others. Y/n has never lived in one place for too long. Her people have always been wanderers, offering their services and wares to the villages they pass through. So, she's come to hear a great deal of stories in her lifetime.

In the past two years, life has been unfortunate for y/n. The wandering folk have always been victims of bandits waiting on the side of the road. They've found ways to defend themselves but bandit activity has risen in the past years due to the barbarians attacking and raiding places all over the kingdom. Like sharks smelling blood, other low-life criminals start to crawl out of their holes, sensing an opportunity to gain some coin and women for themselves. Y/n's group has been attacked quite a few times over the last two years, decimating their numbers bit by bit. Having lost people, coins and wares, the last winter was harsh. Those, who didn't starve to death, died due to the harsh cold or infection that followed soon after. After that winter, there weren't many left of them and the survivors started to question if their way of life was still liveable in the current condition. Eventually, the group dismembered. Not all at once, but one by one. People found other work or opportunities in the villages they passed through. A better prospect of life. Even y/n's elder brother, her only surviving family member, left this spring and enrolled in the military service of the king. He tried to convince her to come with her and settle down in the capital. But y/n can't imagine such a life. Being used to living in the open, in tents and wagons, she developed a distaste for sleeping in houses made of stone. It gives her nightmares. The thought that the house might crumble and its stones burying her alive, scares her to death.

Eventually, y/n ends up alone. Only her, her tent, and a wagon her parents left behind. She tried keeping up the life of a wanderer until her donkey died of old age and she had no coin to buy a new one. Having no opportunity to continue to pull her wagon, she was forced to settle closeby to a small settlement. Here's the thing. Villagers are usually nice to the wandering folk. They're happy to trade with them and the change of pace and stories they bring with them. However, they are not keen on having them in their life permanently. It's nice to have them around for a couple of days, but it's also good when they move on. Then there are the prejudices. Often people put y/n's kind into the same box as other people without a permanent residence like bandits, homeless people, or moving brothels. So, people weren't too happy when y/n put up her tent close to the village entrance.

You see, most people don't treat y/n unkindly as long as she keeps her distance and has the proper coin when she needs to buy something. They even trust her enough to buy her wares but they're not very inclusive. So y/n does not really find any friends or social connections and she is aware of the demeaning glances and sneers people give her when they think she's not looking. She's trying to save up coins for a new donkey and hopes to find her brother. Maybe convincing him to leave the military. Or at least to find a more inviting place than where she is now.

Today's the celebration of the long day. It's the longest day of the year and the people celebrate the daylight for blessing their fields and fruits. There's a festival in the village with dances, beverages and lots of music. It gives y/n some consolation that the village people are celebrating this day. It's a big festival for her people with different traditions and rituals that are held all day and night. This year y/n tried to do as many of them on her own, but it's just not the same without your family around. So, she's glad she can go into the village and take part in the buzzing celebration. Though 'take part' is probably a bit too much. She probably will buy a cup of fruit wine and watch the hustle and bustle of the villagers. It's not like anybody would want to dance with her. After all, she has no real prospect of marriage around here. Nobody would let their son court and marry a woman like her. Not that y/n is interested in any of the young men she's seen in the village. She finds most of them quite close-minded and not very driven.

Y/n wears a flower crown she's woven today and one of her mother's dresses. It actually might be the one she got married in. She wanders the town square and watches old men toast with full jugs of beer and young couples sneaking around, waiting for the music to start. She gets herself a cup of wine and a sugary piece of cake and settles on the ground next to the bakery stand. Cross-legged, she bites into her cake and takes notice of some middle-aged women looking in her direction and whispering behind raised hands. Y/n shrugs it off as the music starts to play and people start to dance. She watches the commotion and whips her feet to the music. She really would love to dance. At midnight, the villagers dim the lanterns and lit a fire in the middle of the square. Curiously, y/n blends into the mass that gathers around the fire. She bumps into a man her age. She apologizes and gives the man a small smile. The man looks at her in bewilderment and his friend gives her a mean look, pulling the man away from her. Slowly, silence befalls the square and the old storyteller of the village makes his way to the middle of the square, next to the fire. Y/n buzzes with excitement. She loves stories. Before starting his story, the man lets his gaze wander through the people and takes a deep breath.

Far away from here, behind the mountain range we call bear fangs, lays the territory of the dragonblood tribe. These beasts of men managed to tame the greatest monsters known to mankind: the dragons. Over 12 feet high, spewing raging fire, these creatures are nothing more than steel-hard scales and razor-sharp teeth. While normal people, like us, would fear for their lives encountering these monsters, the dragonblood tribe has lived together with them for centuries in what they call harmony. There's no doubt you have to be a special kind of person to survive an encounter with such a monster, let alone live with them. Tall, strong, cunning and unafraid of death. All characteristics the men of the tribe possess. Some say they even mixed their blood with their dragons and gained impenetrable skin and superhuman strength.

A strength that they still use today to bring terror and fear into our lands. However, a few winters ago, a horrible sickness befell the women of the dragonblood tribe. Most of them didn't survive the season. Having lost their women, the dragonblood men lust for female flesh. Flesh that they seek nowadays in our lands.

We've all heard stories. From an aunt or uncle living in other parts of the kingdom, from passing merchants or the wandering folk about them. They do not care for day or night, they attack whenever they feel like it. There's no plan or logic to their attack, just chaos and violence. They burn houses, skin men alive, put children on spikes and do unspeakable, terrible things to our women. We should fear every single one of them but... there's one we should fear the most. Their leader: Bakugou Katsuki. He's the cruelest, strongest, and meanest of them all. He managed to tame the biggest and most dangerous dragon of all kinds: A hellfire dragon. With scales red as blood and fire as hot as a hundred forges, no one can escape this beast. And no one can escape its master either. With an insatiable hunger for coin, gold and women, their leader and his men continue to invade this country and raid its villages and towns. Greedily acquiring riches and kidnapping and taking our women whenever they please. You never know when they strike, but when you see a sliver of burning red in the sky... Take your little siblings, put your old mother on your back and leave farm and home behind, and run as fast as you can. If you're lucky, and cunning yourself, you might just be able to escape the terror of the dragonblood tribe and live another day to tell the story.

As the storyteller finishes his story, the market square lies in eery silence. Nobody dares to even move. Only when the musicians start playing again and the lanterns are lit again, the tension eases and the gathering around the fire dissolves. Y/n gets up from the place she was seated in and rubs her arms. There are goosebumps all over her body. What a creepy story to tell during such delightful festivities, she thinks. She grabs her cup to return it to the vendor. In passing, she hears someone say: "Why on earth would he speak of this? Doesn't he know it's a bad omen to speak it out loud?". She returns her cup and lets her gaze wander over the square once more. Some couples picked up dancing again but it's obvious that the atmosphere has shifted. Y/n notices the man she bumped into earlier watching her from across the square. She gives him a nod and then turns around to leave.

Y/n set up camp not too far away from the village, but far away enough to have some peace and quiet. The wandering folk often set up camp in a forest or closeby a river, living off the land around them. So, y/n has a short walk by foot back to her tent. The moon stays high in the sky, illuminating her surroundings enough for her to comfortably find her way home. Deep in her own thoughts, y/n doesn't notice the dark shadows following her. She's been walking for a while when she finally hears the snickering of male voices behind her. She looks over her shoulder and sees three male silhouettes following her. "Hey, y/n, wait a second!", she hears one of them yell. The voice is familiar. One of the villagers. She stops for a second, a stupid mistake on her part. One of the men jog up to her, the others following closely. "I'm sorry, can I help you with anything?", y/n says calmly. "Actually, there's something huge you could help me with.", the man she bumped into earlier grins. Y/n pretends not to catch on the allusion. "If you need help with something, it's best to work on it tomorrow. Also, we probably should talk to your father first since he handles business in your family.", she states. She hopes the mention of his father will intimidate the guy. "Oh, I think it's best to work on it tonight.", the man answers and his friends snicker behind him. "Sorry, I'm tired. Let's talk about it tomorrow.", y/n tries to advert him once again. "It won't be any work for you at all. You'd just have to lay down. Or stand up, depending on how you like it.", the man says and leans close. "I'd like to go home. Alone.", she tells him and turns to leave. "C'mon don't be like that!", one of his friends grins behind him, as the other one grabs her arm. "You're drunk. You should all go home, too. It's best to sleep it off.", she tells them and pulls on her arm. "Why are you like that? You don't think we're worth your time?", the third one coos. Y/n pulls on her arm again. "I'm sure you're all great and we can talk about everything tomorrow. Right now, however, I'd prefer to go home alone.", she tries again. "Not even for some coin? I heard your kind does everything for a little bit of gold.", the man holding her arms sneers. Not for any gold in the world, y/n would like to say. She knows better than to offend them. It's already a dangerous situation she's in. No need to escalate it further. "C'mon, babe. At least let me feel you up a bit.", the guy says and tries to pull her closer. Y/n decides that she has had enough of this. She balls her fist and swings it right into the man's face. Not expecting the blow, he lets go of her arm and stumbles back. Y/n doesn't waste a second and makes a run for it. Immediately, she leaves the well-known path and darts into the woods. She hopes that the trees give her enough cover to keep out of their sight. She runs in a zigzag, changing her direction multiple times. She hears the man behind her, trying to keep up with her. Unfortunately for her, they are bigger and faster than her and it's hard to shake them off. Eventually, y/n loses them. She climbs up a tree and stays unmoving for a long time. She doesn't hear them anywhere close by and her heart slows down a bit. It's not the first time she had to run away from men with bad intentions. She knows it's not a smart idea to return to her tent immediately. So, she stays up on the tree for most of the night. Her eyes fall close a couple of times but after she almost loses balance one time, she stays awake for the remaining night listening closely into the woods.

Only when the sun starts to rise again and wafts of mist waver over the cold forest ground, y/n climbs down from her spot. Her joints are stiff and she's chilled to the bone. Cautiously, she starts her way back to her tent. Of course, she did not watch where she was going last night and it takes her multiple hours to find her way back. When she arrives at her campsite, chills run down her back. Apparently, these men were not only relentless but also petty. Her entire campsite is destroyed. They absolutely trashed the place and set fire to her tent and wagon. Y/n takes in the sight. She tries to stay calm but her blood is boiling. It's not like she cared much about the possessions. The wandering folk always packed lightly and only what they could carry. It's the disrespect for her. Also, the little things that she did own were necessities. It's still early in the morning, so y/n decides to salvage what she can and take her leave. She knows men like this. When they don't get what they want, they don't rest until they absolutely destroy everything.

Unfortunately for y/n, the devil works fast and these men work faster. She just started piling up things that were still usable when she hears clamoring just a mile away. "Let's go! She must be back by now! No way she leaves her witchcraft stuff behind!", she hears a man yell. Y/n debates for a few seconds whether or not to stand her ground but decides it's better to avoid confrontation. She quickly grabs a small bag and retreats to the forest. However, she doesn't make it far. Only a few meters into the woods, an arrow flies by her head. "There she is! I saw her just beyond the tree line!", she hears a yell behind her. Immediately, y/n breaks into a sprint. She tries to lose them by zigzagging again but the broad daylight makes it easier for them to spot her. Being used to walking all day, y/n has quite the stamina and hopes to tire them out. However, she didn't sleep all night and the men seemed to have prepared for a longer hunt. 'Hunt' is the appropriate term here. They keep shooting arrows at her and seem to track her trails.

The forest no longer looks familiar to y/n as she keeps pushing on. Her heart feels as if it's about to explode. In a bad way. She's sure the men on her tail can hear her heavy breathing from a mile away. She's also sure that they start to catch up to her. She can hear them closer and closer behind her. They are whooping and whistling as if they are making fun of her. So sure that they can catch up to her. Suddenly, an arrow flies close to her face again, cutting her ear. She can feel blood dripping down the side of her face. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! You can't hide forever, you little bitch!", she hears one of them call out behind her. She gathers all her strength and pushes her legs to run even faster than before. Panic sets in and she hears an arrow hit the ground behind her. Trying to look back in order to estimate how far they are behind her, she stumbles over the roots of a tree and falls to the ground. "Over there!", a voice yells closely behind her. She gets up as quickly as she can and a piercing pain jolts through her. She must've torn or broken something in her joint as she fell. She limbs on trying to use the trees for cover. Another arrow hits the bark of the tree right next to her. She pushes herself off the tree, trying to bring more distance between herself and the men hunting her. Suddenly she loses her footing and finds herself sliding down a slope. Thorny bushes cut her legs, arms and face. The impact leaves a ringing tone in her ears. Her entire body hurts now. For a moment, she's tempted to just lay there and accept her fate. But when she hears the howling men above her, she fights to get back onto her feet again. Her bones feel heavy as she staggers on. She can hear some of the men sliding down the slope as well. Suddenly, she smells smoke in the air. Somebody must be close by!, she thinks. This thought cost her a valuable second and suddenly a pointed force to her right shoulder knocks her down again. Next, she feels a soaring pain from the very same place. When she turns her head to her side, in terror she realizes that an arrow is stuck in her shoulder. She can barely lift her arm now. On her hands and knees, she frantically looks for smoke in the air. Y/n fixes her eyes on the dark clouds of smoke rising into the air just a yard or so from her. It's my only chance, y/n decides. These people might be able to help. They can't be worse than the men that are hunting her. Little did she know, it was quite the opposite. Having found new hope, y/n gets back onto her feet. She starts sprinting again. Ignoring the pain in her foot joint, she pushes her body to the limit. Avoiding arrows out of sheer luck, she manages to avoid getting killed. Finally, she stumbles onto the clearing where the smoke was coming from.

Her eyes fall onto the fireplace first, then at the man sitting next to it. The man only wears dark pants and a pair of boots. He's got blonde spiky hair that stands up in different directions. Necklaces of teeth hand from his neck. All things y/n doesn't register in her panic. That and the giant, red dragon sleeping at the other side of the clearing. The man gets up immediately and grabs a sword that laid across his lap just seconds ago. He looks at y/n angrily, ready to yell or behead her or both. However, he does not get a chance to speak. Y/n's body gives out and she falls onto her knees. "I'm begging you!", she yells out, tears streaming down her face. "Please help me! If you have just an inch of good in you, please find the mercy to help me! They are going to kill me!", she continues to yell. The man looks at her in bewilderment. Nearby, the village men yell in her direction. In horror, she pushes herself up once more and stumbles in the direction of the strange man in front of her. She falls straight into his chest, clinging onto his arm. For a moment, the man looks as if he wants to push her back to the ground again but he doesn't get a chance to do so. One of the men hunting y/n stumbles onto the clearing with a knife in his hand. "There you are, you little slut!", he yells. In fear, y/n clings to the man in front of her. Suddenly, the stranger grabs her right arm. Pain shots from the arrow wound into her fingertips. She looks up and sees the stranger look at the wound with narrowed eyes. Another villager reaches the clearing. This one carries a bow and arrow. The stranger quickly makes the connection between the arrow stuck in y/n's shoulder and the arrow in the man's hand.

The stranger yells something non-understandable and pushes y/n to the side who falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The impact sends more pain through y/n body. "Who the fuck are you? That one belongs to us, find your own toy to play with!" the knife man says and raises his weapon. The stranger exclaims something loud and angry. Again y/n can't understand him. He must speak a different language than her. Suddenly a rumble pierces the air. Y/n's head whips around and the dragon rises to his feet. Y/n's mouth hangs open in disbelief. The man with the arrow yelps in surprise and lets go of his arrow sending it flying in an arbitrary direction. The stranger in front of her doesn't waste a second and uses the distraction to cut the knife guy's throat in a swift movement. In horror, y/n watches as blood gushes out of the horizontal wound and the man chokes on his own body fluids. The man with the bow stumbles backward onto his butt. His eyes are still fixated on the dragon to his right. The stranger harshly steps onto the man's foot. The disgusting sound of breaking bones rings through the air. The man yells in pain and throws his head back. The stranger grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head forward. Angrily, he yells at the villager and when the man only groans in pain, the stranger sticks his sword into his side. The villager lets out a bone-chilling scream. When the villager continues to not answer him, the stranger starts twisting his sword in the wound. The villager throws up on himself and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Y/n can't advert her eyes. She doesn't really comprehend what's happening in front of her. When more yelling is heard at the edge of the clearing, the stranger pulls his sword diagonally through the man's abdomen, creating a wound that makes squishy red things fall out of the man's body. Y/n feels like throwing up. The stranger drops the twitching man and makes its way to the edge of the clearing. What happens next is not registered by y/n who can't help but stare at the gutted man in front of her who keeps twitching until the light has left his eyes. She doesn't hear the screams of terror and death from the other side of the clearing. She doesn't even see the giant beast watching her every move.

Only when the stranger returns with blood dripping down his sword and chest, y/n's consciousness finds its way back into her body. The stranger looks as angry as he has since she entered his clearing. He sounds angry too. He's saying something to her. Looking at it backward, y/n is sure that she wouldn't have been able to understand him even if he spoke her language at this very moment. Only when he stomps closer to her with a raised sword, y/n springs to action and pushes herself backward with one leg, still sitting on the ground. This is it, she thinks, I'm going to die. The man grabs her uninjured shoulder and shakes her. She stares up at him with wide eyes. Suddenly, her vision starts spinning and her hearing starts to fade. Before she understands what is happening, her world fades to black.

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[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

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bbyseok · 1 year

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pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

cw: fantasy au with dragon king bakugou n soft cuddles all around

analysis: bakugou katsuki—he’s the fearsome king of dragons.. but away from prying eyes and behind closed doors, he’s also the king of cuddles.

—-—

the soft furs of the oversized bed are something you can happily drown in, you decide. thick and heavy that chase away any cold, soft as clouds.

pops and crackles from the flames of the fireplace from the side of the bedroom bring a nice ambience. an idle noise that you associate with warmth.

but the beast that lays between the space of your legs with his head nestled on your tummy is what completes the epitome of your comfort.

you absentmindedly play with bakugou’s hair, and with a hum, you decide it’s even softer than the bed furs.

little purrs escape from him every now and then with your attention, but he’s made you swear not to speak a word on it a while ago. (how cute.)

even though you’re somewhat propped up with the mass amount of pillows and blankets, you crane your neck to see your king’s face.

“katsuki? are you awake?” you pry softly, pushing some of his hair back gently to expose his forehead, and more importantly, the sleepy (and pouty!) look he offers.

he blinks owlishly at you once, then twice. “no.”

you can’t help but breathe an airy laugh at that, fingers still in his hair as you take in his features. “no?”

“shut up.” it’s spoken gruffly as he buries his face back into your stomach with a tired groan.

“aww, katsu,” you coo, ignoring his grumbles, “that’s no way to speak to your mate.”

“right now, i think my mate should be quiet.”

well, if he was gonna be like that then..

silently, you retract your hands from his hair and rest your arms above you with a small huff.

he only lasts three seconds before he’s glancing up at you again with his brows furrowed. he glares.

you simply raise a brow down at him.

he growls grumpily and reaches up for your arm, dragging it back down so you can resume petting him. “oi, dumbass. didn’t say stop.”

even with your hand back in the nest of blonde hair, you don’t make any moves. you keep staring down at him, biting back a giggle.

he growls again. “what? what’s up with you?”

you merely tilt your head, lips pouting ever so slightly. he had told you to be quiet after all!

katsuki brings your other arm down, his own lips prominent in showing his usual scowl. except this one is terribly sleepy.

still, you don’t return his advances, squinting down at him. he can figure it out himself. silly dragon king.

so you have an intense staring contest that carries over for five seconds before he lets loose another one of those growling grumbles.

“fine, fine,” he relents, now subtly pouting himself. he huffs. “..‘m sorry. don’t.. be quiet.”

you huff and smirk in victory, and yet your hands still remain still. “that’s what i thought, katsu.”

he rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah. you gonna give me what i want now?”

you’re still smirking, and you can tell he wants to wipe it off your face. (actually kiss it off, but he’s not gonna tell you that.) “well, what do you want?”

“don’t play dumb with me,” he threatens lazily, lifting his head a bit. “you know what i want.”

and then you laugh. “alright, alright.” finally, you ruffle your hand through his hair, your other sliding down to cradle his cheek.

katsuki’s eyes close with bliss and he sighs quietly. “mm..”

“get some rest, my king,” you murmur, guiding his head back down to rest on your tummy. “i’ll be here in the morning.”

a purr rumbles from katsuki then, and his arms pull you in closer. “good night,” he mumbles.

who would’ve thought—the great barbaric dragon king.. so calm ‘n peaceful. reduced to nothing but a purring mess with his human mate.

#bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #dragon king bakugou #fantasy au bakugou #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha fluff #mha fluff #my writing #rain’s writing #can you tell that i’m obsessed with petting bakugou’s hair #no? okay

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ms0milk · 1 year

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𝟏 | 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"The prince meets you with a ferocity that probably stops people’s hearts and with his mother’s halo of silvery hair and decisive eyes, it’s lovely enough to stop yours too."

no cw big time fairytale castle, blunt bkg & silly co. reader's a lil stiff bc character arcs aren't built in a day, let the slowburn begin. i am not immune to aizawa in any universe. author does not attempt to hide how very badly she wants to ******* *** **** bkg's mama. 3.9k

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Waking up is so peaceful this morning. Gentle and warm.

"..…"

That sweet kind of rise between waking and dreaming, where you’re able to say goodbye to your dreams and the people in them with a tip of your hat and wave goodbye. Forgiving and patient.

“..Y/n…”

The queen was in your dreams tonight. And you were back in your hometown– you’re there now. The fields are golden and heavy before autumn harvest and your neighbors have no need for locks on their doors. She is beautiful today, and she is your sister, your mother, your Lady when you try to look past the sun’s rays to her face. Up, up, up into her eyes, why can’t you find what you’re looking for? Higher and higher until it’s the stars you’re on your knees for.

“Y/n.”

You jolt at the sudden sensation of falling with a quick and panicked grip on your pillow but you’re back in your room, stuffed mattress and all. Every part of your body is grounded to woolen blankets and the weight at your feet. Someone laughs at the foot of your bed when you sigh in relief and you jump again, because this time it’s the queen.

“I’m sorry to wake you.”

She smiles behind her hand. You’re staring. And then it’s been a second too long before you gather yourself like a member of the castle with some respect and make a move to stand for formal greetings. But you only get as far as sitting up when she stiffs her palm to your forehead.

“Stay.”

From your spot still tucked in bed you muster a, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The queen’s hair is wild and silvery by the light of a candle she holds at her chest. The only light in the room. Heavy fur cape clasps fit neatly into the bodice of her nightgown– gown almost wasn’t the right word. You love her. There isn’t a citizen alive that doesn’t love her.

“I have a question for you, Y/n.”

“Anything, Majesty.”

What time is it? Your curtain is drawn, but still there doesn’t seem to be any morning light trying to peek through.

“My son’s been invited east to celebrate a new observatory.” The queen pulls a once-neatly-wrapped envelope from her pocket, “the end of some momentous constructional undertaking or another,” she laughs. She extends her hand to you and smiles at just how dumbstruck you still seem to be by candlelight.

“I’m sorry it’s so early.”

“Not at all.” You move too quickly and too slowly somehow– you curse yourself– while taking it from her, and feel like a silly child the way she has you perched against your pillows. In your nightclothes for gods’ sake,

“I just received word from a Takoba messenger. A letter from their queen.”

You nod to her. Turn the letter over in your hands until it falls open.

“He’s leaving today and I would very much like you to accompany him.”

Dumbstruck doesn’t describe how you look anymore, doesn’t do it justice. Your apartments on Castle Southside feel less like a single modest room and more like the very stables you live above, wholly unfit for royalty. She’s still smiling at you. You’re still goddamned tucked-in.

“Majesty, me?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

You jolt up again and catch yourself in a way that seems amusing to her, “Not at all Your Majesty! But wouldn’t– shouldn’t Master Jeanist go?”

“Jeanist stays with me.”

And you realize in horror– truly too many emotions at this point for one woman to manifest only minutes after waking up– that you implied the queen may have made a mistake.

“Don’t apologize,” she catches you before you can open your sleep-addled mouth again, “Captain of the Guard stays with me. But you’ve trained with Jeanist for years Y/n, you’re going to be my son’s Captain, I know you will.” She’s scooting closer to you and gods, she’s taking your hand, “Can I trust you with this mission?”

It feels fuzzy in the room when she uses your name.

“With anything.”

Queen Mitsuki handed over one more letter before leaving you to prepare for your morning shift. Just a thank you card, she’d said. For you to deliver to the eastern queen, the Queen of Takoba.

As long as it was her asking you’d be able to do anything, although she may have a touch too much confidence in your future. Captain of he Royal Guard? Spending the most time with Jeanist doesn’t mean you have a future as his successor, only the next monarch can decide that. Spending the most time with Jeanist only means that you don’t have any friends.

The click of your heels down the stone hallway line up with another’s as you round the corner to your station. A tree today.

Trees and wildlife grow freely in the Bakugous’ Aldera Castle and make the palace warm even in the dead of winter. Knobbly trunks and grasping vines twist in and out of windows, fruit rolls down the halls in fall. Squirrels and birds get in so regularly that members of the guard each have one shift a week exclusively for helping the creatures get back out.

Fresh air never feels far away. In the springtime you are all tasked with sweeping blossoms off the castle floors before they wither or trip a royal guest, and from the very second the first magnolia blooms in March you’re swimming in flowers til June.

Jeanist stands under the lichen of Castle Southside’s oak tree when you arrive, and the soldier he was speaking to has already strode away. Tall, black hair.

The oak tree is four stories tall to have an arm reaching this far inside and is older than any member of the castle is able to recall accurately. It is precious family. It reaches up and over the banister at the edge of the hallway and dips down into the library like a leafy chandelier, causing much headache in autumn when the tallest ladder ever made is procured for the poor novice whose job it is to clean the books underneath of it.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

“Sir.”

Jeanist only smiles under the high collar of his red uniform. You rarely get the chance to stand beside your mentor anymore, now that the prince is getting older and needs a senior guard on diplomatic errands. You love the way your uniforms look in a line together– feel next to each other. Yours are the only two of their kind and your mentor made these himself. Blood red gambeson and white bone pin clasps. You assume your position beside the tree and stare dead ahead, happy, if only for a second, if only on the inside, to belong once again to this group of two.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, sir?” You don’t break eye contact with the far wall. It’s still relatively dark on the fifth floor of Southside and so all you have to entertain yourself is a tapestry you’ve memorized every stitch of, until another soldier comes to relieve you.

“Did you speak with the Queen?”

“Yes, sir. Early this morning.”

“Earlier than dawn?” Jeanist chuckles and turns to gaze out the window through the ancient knots of the oak tree. The sun crests the mountains somewhere farther than you’ve ever traveled and spills into the folds of his uniform. It warms the back of your head. “What did you tell her?”

“That I would be honored to comply with Her Majesty's request.”

“And how do you feel?”

“Privileged, sir.”

“Y/n,”

Your eyes tug at your periphery, confused by the general chatiness of the old guard this morning.

“I’m proud of you.”

Your head turns fully at this, in surprise and without your permission, and you realize it hasn’t yet struck you to ask why he’s at your post in the first place.

“Master Jeanist?”

“Go on.” He’s looking at you too now, he’s been doing it the whole time, “They’ll leave without you at this rate.”

You stare for another two seconds at this strange mentor of yours. You try to keep your heart from spilling onto the floor is actually what you do; it’s all you can manage.

“Yes, sir.”

If anything you’ll be the first of the entire party to arrive in the Great Hall, but you still let Jeanist assume your position in front of the oak and even turn in surprise again when he rests a hand on your shoulder as you’re making to leave. He taps one of your small golden earrings with a gentle finger and with his other hand unclasps the dragontooth brooch from his breast.

“How long did you stare when the queen spoke with you this morning?”

Your ears go hot immediately under his knowing gaze, but he only smiles. He pulls your hand forward and rests the dragontooth in your palm with an amount of pressure that can only mean, be careful. And so you will, you determine, and turn to make your way to collect your things.

“Word of advice!”

In a neverending morning of spinning, you drag your foot and face him again. Jeanist is nearly laughing and trying very well to hide his worry, “If you stare at the prince the way you have the tendency to do, he might just take your head off.”

He doesn’t get to see you smile often, but it does feel fitting now for you to nod your goodbye to him with that sneaky grin of yours he loves so much.

“He might try, sir."

It didn’t take more than a few months in the castle, at six years old, for the prince to rectify his opinion of you. To clarify his disdain in the event that his mother’s favoritism towards the orphan gave anyone the wrong idea about his personal priorities. Though it hardly mattered. Hundreds of new faces fill the castle every year and he had forgotten yours just as quickly as you had been whisked into Jeanist’s care to begin your training and earn your keep.

Today your satchel is packed, your hair’s braided back, and the prince thinks no more or less of you than he always has. Indifference will make your job easy.

The whole sprawling maze of stone buildings warm in the morning sun as you make your way to Castle Northside, although autumn is close and soon heavy curtains will need to be draped over windows and trees. Soon too, it’ll be time to sweep fallen leaves out of the hallway and collect ripe peaches from the branches of the western stairwell. You’ll need to have your winter uniform cleaned when you return so the white fur of the collar glows, because when the queen happens to see you on duty she always remarks on how well you care for her colors.

Even your earrings– tiny suns, gold and dangling– represent your love for Aldera down to the smallest detail. They were a gift from her, and you swell when her eyes jump from one carefully polished detail on your body to the next. Jeanist always says that she’s the most meticulously crafted person he’s ever met. You know that’s why he loves her. Each giant winter cape in her collection drops her into the background of some priceless painting or ethereal scene and for this reason alone, winter is your favorite season.

Sometimes in the cold weather, when she sneaks to the kitchen in the middle of the night, Her Majesty wears heavy battle gauntlets to stay warm and looks altogether too silly and beautiful in delicate furs and armored gloves. If you’re on duty overnight, she’ll bring you a warm loaf of bread and whisper something to the tune of, “I’ll call another guard to your post, I don’t like you staying up so late.” Or “Hide under my cape and I’ll sneak you to bed.”

It is just at this moment of routine admiration that, out of an auxiliary hallway to the kitchen, pops a tall boy you’ve never seen before wearing white soldier’s greaves. On top he’s in a worn undershirt like you’ve just walked in on his getting changed– well– he just walked in on you– while getting changed– more importantly, he knows your name and he calls to you as he approaches.

“Yes soldier?”

His limbs are knobbly and his mouth hitches uncomfortably upwards when he finally gets close enough to you to speak, “Hanta actually, Sero Hanta.”

Tall and disrespectful.

“What is it, soldier?”

“Master Jeanist sent me to get your halberd from the smithy but when I came back you–”

“I don’t keep my halberd in the smithy.”

He shifts his weight between two legs too long for his greaves like he has somewhere else to be, “Well whoever’s it is, Kirishima has it now and we’ve all been searching Southside like madmen trying to find–”

“Who–” You shake your head and turn to face him fully now, “Stop, why does Master–”

“Sero! Oh my everloving gods you found her!” Another boy, quite blond, scrambles out of a different hallway– oh, he’s tripping on the decorative runner– out of breath to the soldier’s side. “Kirishima–”

“You found her!” Yet another voice shrills over the banister of the hallway above. This one belongs to a lithe pink girl and she hops the last five stairs to land at your side, “Don’t you look nice today Miss Guard.”

“Excuse me?”

She’s already moved on, “Where’s Kirishima?”

You have half a mind to take the closest person by the arm and hold them for questioning. How have they gotten so far into the center of the castle unaccompanied? Who do they belong to?

“Identify yourselves.”

“No time for that,” Soldier Sero snaps and links a hand under each of his companions’ arms, “We’ll parse out introductions once we’re not all about to be hanged.” Without direction or permission, the three of them are down the last stretch of hallway quicker than north wind through bare branches and great iron doors scream open.

You’ve walked the Hall ten thousand times and so the gold trim and the two-story fireplace and the relentless smell of pine and the rows of mismatched wooden tables long enough to seat an extended family of dragons, only bring tears to your eyes sometimes. The floor is cobbled with river stones that catch fruit and nuts in their grooves but glow purple and red like hot glass when the sun comes in through the windows. It gets hotter than a roosted hen when it’s full of staff at mealtimes so you take your dinner elsewhere when it’s time to retire.

It’s too cramped. You’ve never managed large crowds in tight spaces very well, so times like these are precious, when it’s empty before breakfast and still clean from the night's housekeeping. Except it’s not empty now, is it? There are three fools and two brand new strangers loitering in front of the fireplace at the other end of the room, just waiting for you to call for reinforcements. Sero begins to take off his pants–

“Soldier!” You shout down the Hall almost as quickly as you cross it.

“Good morning,” An altogether new voice pools between your exclamations.

Of the five people in the empty room, two of them obviously belong someplace very far away. Somewhere unkind. Blue tunics and windswept hair. You slow your warpath and try to take in the details of the two new men that your three fugitives have approached without an ounce of concern or respect for personal space.

The younger of the pair tries to repel hair ruffles and claps on the shoulder from the three trespassers while the taller man, worn and travel-sallow, peers over the bustle to you.

His eye contact doesn't match the way he holds his exhausted body. It is this one part of him that threatens, surely only in your own tired mind, sudden and practiced violence. You move closer.

“I am Master Aizawa."

When he blinks the threat vanishes and you buckle a bit in the whiplash from danger to gentle authority. You are unarmed for a second– feeling suddenly like a school girl again being pitied by her teacher in a classroom full of people who he knows haven't quite figured out how to talk to the child soldier.

"Your party will be under my protection and instruction beginning today.”

Disarming eye contact aside, Master Aizawa, this fourth stranger of the morning, looks as if he could barely be trusted to remain upright on a sunny day, let alone manage other people.

“This young man is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he tips his chin to the boy trying to stand tall beside him, still speaking only to you over the chittering crowd, “My apprentice and your second in command.”

Windswept, violent, exhausted, trespassers, guests, useful, useless– these people do not matter. You’re supposed to be waiting for the prince and his convoy not chasing strangers in circles around the castle, when quite the terrible thought slips into center focus.

In your rush this morning it hadn’t even presented itself as an option, that this group of people might share your objective. The iron doors grunt open again in your confusion but louder than the doors are the people walking through them.

“Oh amazing, you found her!”

“I could hear you horrible fucks all the way from the courtyard.”

Your blood doesn’t rush properly for a second most likely because your heart has stopped pumping it out. It’s the prince. You square your body to the back wall immediately and bow with fists at your side. Trying to bury the incorrigible urge to stare.

Even from half a Hall away you feel the tremendous confidence that swells to every corner of a room when he enters. He’s in an open-chested vest lined with furs and you know the clasps at his neck are solid gold because the queen wouldn’t settle for less. The red cape they grip sweeps in an arc as he navigates tables, and walking duly tall beside him is the prince's Champion, Kirishima, who holds a polearm in one hand while waving to the group with the other.

The two familiar faces put you at a strange kind of ease. Kirishima is a relatively new addition to the castle but always seems to have a smile for you in passing, and the prince– the prince has gotten taller since– well, actually– you realize it’s been years since you’ve stood near him properly. Unless it’s the queen (and even then you really should), all castle staff bow their heads when a royal walks past. You’re fairly familiar with the details of his boots but not much else.

“Good morning, Highness,” Master Aizawa is the first to reply and his voice simmers just above a growl. You raise your head so that you’re standing tall when the prince finishes his march to the group but you’re too practiced in looking away to keep your eyes up when he trudges past.

“Long time no see old man.”

“Ready?”

“Let’s get this over with.” The prince doesn’t offer you a glance, not even a blink, before he’s tossing a rucksack from the man’s outstretched arm over his shoulder.

Soldier Sero calls after him, “You clean up nice,” and lifts his arm to give the prince a playful swat, but you’re already holding his wrist behind his back and he’s standing on tall tippy toes to keep the pressure in his knobby elbow from breaking it. You have a nasty habit. It’s full of panic. The queen always laughs when you’re too quick to confront so you haven’t tried to stop. It saved her life once. The prince squares himself to the yelping and now he’s looking at you.

“S-sorry Y/n! Friendly fire.”

You drop Sero’s arm and try to speak– it's your only chance for appropriate introduction– but the prince meets you with a ferocity that probably stops people’s hearts and with his mother’s halo of silvery hair and decisive eyes, it’s lovely enough to stop yours too. His red gaze is quick and flickering. Like he hopes to avoid looking at you altogether. You try to speak even less successfully than the last time, to wet your lips, try to make a sound, but he’s already rolling his eyes and ushering the two blue guards towards the door.

“I don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter. The rest of you, hurry up.”

They do. The prince, two escorts, and three unnamed guests, are back out the iron doors without so much as a greeting, explanation, or itinerary. You stand next to the cold fireplace, still half bowed in greeting.

As the Great Hall stills, empty now except for Kirishima, the redhead sidles a bit closer in the quiet. He watches you excitedly, as you exhale and adjust the travel bag at your hip, eager to present you with the weapon he’s been carrying.

“Good mornin’ Y/n. I think this is from Jeanist,” he chirps with a smile and precisely no clue just what exactly it is he’s handing to you. He’s straightforward and confident and warm.

It’s been a long time since a day so new has been so active. Since dawn, nothing but one heart palpitation after the next. One pair of red eyes to the next. The prince’s red burns your vision like a sunspot, Aizawa's turn grapes to wine, but Kirishima’s feels patient. You’re slow to remove your gloves before handling the weapon and take it from the Champion who vibrates in the new quiet. He is not particularly good at standing still.

Shifting up and down in your hands is a halberd. Its balance is unfamiliar and it’s not the cherrywood weapon you’re familiar with, the one that’s hopefully still hanging up in its slot in the Keep. This weapon is a deep blood red from shaft to socket. You nod your head without taking your eyes off the shimmer of the metal polished so fine it's turned white, and you’re sure there are tears in your eyes.

Kirishima is still smiling as you fiddle with the rivets, “You have lovely taste, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s not mine,” you whisper, because it’s Master Jeanist’s.

Outside of the castle gates, a particularly dazzling blue carriage is waiting, pulled by a team of white horses. You squint at the three fools wrestling with each other next to a quilted door of the most delicate vehicle you’ve ever seen in your life. Like something out of a storybook, like something built by fairies. The prince tiffs with a less-than-interested Master Aizawa in the grass a ways off and taps his foot angrily just like his mother.

“Are you the Aldera escort?” Shinsou, the spitting image of apathy, appears between you and Kirishima as you trek the stone path to join the party. He hands you each a sizable knapsack.

You nod, “Y/n, apprentice to Captain Jeanist.”

“The one and only?”

“Captain?”

“No, the only apprentice,” Shinsou corrects and smiling eyes betray his disinterest, “I’ve heard stories. It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.”

“Likewise,” you murmur as he leaves you with a bag in both hands, and strides back to the crowd to help load luggage. The Champion is long gone and mingling with friends too and so you’re alone again, left to fiddle at a distance with your halberd and the leather sling used to carry it on your back.

When you gaze back over the group from afar, it does seem that everyone but you already quite likes one another, and it probably feels that way because it’s true. They know each other somehow and you are the only stranger.

Next to the stack of luggage, you watch Sero open the door for his two friends and then watch them all curtsy dramatically before trying to beat each other inside. Shinsou catches the blond when he trips backwards on the single carriage step, Sero is finally wearing pants that fit him, black and pleated, and the prince is now stamping his foot on the ground in conversation with the most unfazed man you’ve ever met. Master Aizawa, you suppose, from Takoba.

Behind you the warm castle whistles with wind and morning activity. Your home. In front of you the pink-haired girl blows kisses to imaginary admirers and Kirishima hoists the prince into the carriage by force. It hasn’t been more than an hour and you are already sure this group of people will try their absolute hardest to get you all killed.

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tagged angels ✧.* @nnubee @cherrykamado @nonomesupposedto @zombiewarprincess @kotarousproperty @strawberry-mentos69 @sveetnn @eirlysian @lunrai @cherripunch26nch26 @km74744 @arayoflia

could not tag for some reason

(there was an issue with this post the first time, so I wont clog my angel's notifs with a retag on this second try 😅)

#welcome welcome to the show!#the first two chapters are the slowest so i'm killing two birds with one stone tonight #and publishing them at the same time #the payoff is worth it swearsies #bakugou x reader #bear with me!#trust the process #a hymn to black water #and thank you so much to my tagged angels!#bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #fantasy au #mha fantasu au #bnha fantasy au #fantasy au bakugou #fantasy au bakugo

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byjovewhataspend · 8 months

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excuse me, i need this here for reasons

#fantasy au bakugou #bakugou katsuki

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mhathotfic · 2 years

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Warrior king Bakugou would refer to his lap as his beloved’s rightful throne and insists they sit with no matter what

#nat chats #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #fantasy au #fantasy au bakugou

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yamigooops · 1 year

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On the bright side I’m also about to start a dragon king Bakugou fic THATS probably gonna be chaptered so that’s fun.

I’ve just been craving a very specific type of story with him that I haven’t been able to find, so I just decided to buckle down and write it myself. So no clue how long that’s gonna take but I’m starting it today so fingers crossed I don’t lose motivation lol

#dragon king!bakugou #dragon king bakugo #fantasy au #fantasy au bakugou #cel speaks #let’s fucking go

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gordonshootingstar · 10 months

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#not my art #katsuki bakugo #fantasy au bakugou #kacchan

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habken · 3 months

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fantasy yuri

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #deku #kacchan #bkdk #dkbk #bakudeku #dekubaku #genderbend #fantasy au #habs art #doodles

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pamgkrthwrites · 6 months

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I can’t help but imagine Barbarian!Bakugou having woman in this tribe/clan really upset he married you. Their upset because they wanted to be wife Bakugou but no, he got a pretty Princess wife who isn’t even a barbarian to be his wife.

One woman in particular is so upset about it that she’s told other tribes that “Katsuki Bakugou married an ogre of a wife just to have peace relations”. She uses the fact that very few people have seen you. Which is actually because Bakugou got you pregnant out of wedlock and you didn’t want anyone to know.

The first time Bakugou hears of this rumour is at a tribal meeting, when a another chief of a different tribe says “I feel bad for you, Bakugou. I would even imagine myself marrying an ugly woman like your wife.”

The man’s head is cut off within two seconds.

Bakugou tries his best to keep the nasty rumour from you, but once you hear it you are distraught. It’s makes it harder for you to leave your shared tent. Bakugou has to beg you to even sit up in bed your that upset.

It’s put Bakugou in the worsts of moods for everyone else.

It’s only when your 8 months pregnant do people of his tribe see you, with pregnant belly. People can connect the dots. This pregnant woman leaving the tent of their chief and her pregnant belly is the size of roughly how long said chief has been married? Nothing else needed to be said.

You feel so self conscious that people are staring at you, making you fear you really are that ugly. Please are only staring because your pretty as a goddess and your pregnant!

So when you meet a chief of another tribe, all he does is softly chuckle and goes. “Sorry- I wasn’t expecting such a pretty thing. Didn’t think you’d be an angel.”

Bakugou on one hand is possessive as fuck but on the other sees how you aren’t taking the compliment seriously. He tries his best to reassure you that you are the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

It’s only after once your daughter is born so you start not caring what people think how you looks, because looking at your daughter!

Her face lights up your world and no one can take that from you.

Of course, Bakugou still isn’t happy some spread around that ogre rumour and started trying ti find whoever started it. Once he finds out it’s a woman from his tribe who tried winning him over, he is fuming. Leaves a nasty scar down her face as punishment.

Whenever he goes out now, he brags about how his beautiful wife blessed his eyes with a beautiful daughter. And if anyone tries to disagree his sword is out.

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doodlejoops · 1 year

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Fantasy!Kacchan will always be the best goddamn thing to happen to the fandom and to me

#kacchan #kacchan fanart #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki fanart #fantasy au #fantasy au bakugou #bnha #bnha fanart #mha #mha fanart #joops art

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boomgubbins · 5 months

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Traveling

#bnha #mha #krbk #kiribaku #bakushima #bkkr #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #eijirou kirishima #bnha fantasy au #horses #elven kirishima

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heli-writes · 2 months

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A dragon's heart, part 3.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Katsuki always gets up early. There's something about it that makes him feel calm. The fresh morning air, the silence of the forest. His dragon and y/n are still sound asleep when he gets up and goes to the river to get some water. Upon his return, his dragon yawns loudly and watches him with a lazy eye. Y/n is still knocked out and Katsuki wonders if anything can wake up that woman. He heats some of the water in a pot and throws some herbs in it that he collected along the way. When the water is cooking and y/n still isn't up, Katsuki stomps over to her and harshly kicks her feet.

"Oi! Get up!", he yells and y/n jerks up. Her hair hangs over her face and Katsuki's sure there's some drool on her chin. "If you keep lazying around, I don't know why I am keeping you around!", Katsuki barks at her and y/n ducks her head away a little bit. He swirls around and stomps back to the tea he is brewing. Y/n rubs her eyes and looks at him disorientedly. She turns over to see the dragon who has raised its head at Katsuki's loud voice. She peels Katsuki's cape away from her and shivers at the cool air.

After getting up, she walks over to Katsuki sitting by the fire. She hands back his cape with a quiet 'thank you'. Katsuki gives her a mean side-eye and hands her a cup of tea. It's piping hot and y/n burns her tongue when she tries it. She almost chokes at the sensation and Katsuki snickers.

Y/n sees how he has a grin on his face. Involuntarily she has to laugh too. "You ass!", she giggles and pushes him a bit. Katsuki doesn't move an inch at her shove but he bursts an even bigger grin. Then, he grabs her head and puts her in a chokehold rubbing his fist over her hairline. "Hey, that's mean!", y/n whines and tries to get out of Katsuki's grip. Eventually, Katsuki lets go of her and y/n fixes her hair. There's a slight blush on her cheeks. She's not sure whether it's because she struggled against him or because Katsuki is so close to her right now.

Katsuki has a cheeky grin on his face when he hands y/n her tea back. Y/n eyes him suspiciously and takes another sip. It's more cool now. He must've put some cold water in it to make it more drinkable for her.

When they're done with their tea, Katsuki starts gathering his hunting gear again. "Are you leaving again?", y/n asks him. She walks closer to him. "Do you want me to stay?", she wants to know. Katsuki looks up from what he's been doing. Y/n points at herself. "What about me?", she repeats again and points towards her. Katsuki grunts. "You", he tells her while pointing at her. "Stay here!", he continues pointing to the ground.

Y/n crooks her head. "I guess that means I should stay.", she contemplates and then gives him a short nod. Katsuki nods back at her, content that she understood what he meant. "He stays with you, so you don't go running off again.", he adds pointing towards his dragon. Y/n looks at the dragon, then back at Katsuki. The question mark on her face is very visible.

When Katsuki disappears into the woods, y/n assumes he needs to go pee before flying off with his dragon. However, he doesn't come back. And y/n is left alone with the giant dragon looming over her. Actually, that's not true. The dragon continues to lay lazily at the edge of the clearing watching her with one eye. Y/n feels a bit lost. She's not sure what to do, so she tidies up a bit around the campsite. She checks the vegetables and herbs she collected yesterday. She brews some more tea. When she's done, she takes a bowl of it over to the dragon.

"Uhm, do you want some?", she asks the dragon. The dragon opens both eyes and then opens his gigantic snout. Y/n is taken aback a little bit by its sharp teeth but then pours the content into the dragon's mouth. The dragon lets out a content grumble. Y/n has to giggle. It seems like dragons also enjoy tea. The dragon nudges y/n with its nose and y/n falls back by the force. Y/n has to smile. "Maybe dragons aren't as scary as I thought they were.", she thinks to herself.

*~*~*

Katsuki lets out a frustrated groan and rams his fist into the nearby tree. "This fucking deer is a lot faster than I thought.", he thinks to himself. He thought he could catch up to them by foot but so far he wasn't able to get close to the flock. Eventually, he figures he won't catch up to them. Actually, he could but leaving y/n alone with his dragon for too long doesn't strike him as a good idea. Thus, eventually, he turns around even though it's still quite early.

He's tired when he returns to camp. Also, he's starving. This time, he didn't catch a bunny or anything else on his way back. He found himself worrying over that stupid woman and hurried back without stopping. When he stomps onto the clearing, the smell of something hearty and spicy fills the air.

Y/n is standing in front of the fireplace and stirs in a pot. She looks over her shoulder when she hears the rustling of leaves behind her. When she spots Katsuki, she turns around and gives him a sweet smile. "Welcome back!", she tells him. Katsuki's heart skips a beat and he looks at her with a grim expression for a second. Then, he snaps out of it and angrily points at her.

"What are you doin'? What did I tell you about lighting fires?", he yells. Before being able to continue his ramble, his dragon moves his head over to him and blows some hot steam into Katsuki's face. At that, Katsuki at the dragon dumbly. Did his dragon... just defend her?

Katsuki is ripped out of his thoughts by y/n's laugh. Katsuki can't deny that it's a heartwarming sound. He scoffs. "Whatever", he mumbles to himself. Y/n walks over to him and takes his hand. She tells him something he doesn't understand and pulls him over to the fire.

Before he knows it, he is seated on the trunk and y/n hands him a bowl of stew. Y/n watches intently how Katsuki tries some of her cooking. "And? Do you like it?", she asks. Katsuki just scoffs and puts more stew in his mouth. "I guess he does", y/n thinks while taking a bowl for herself.

Katsuki doesn't eat two but three bowls of y/n's cooking. He would've preferred meat in the stew but he doesn't complain. He's actually content y/n is pulling her weight by doing something for the both of them. It doesn't go unnoticed by Katsuki that she tidied around camp, too.

After their meal, y/n and Katsuki tidy up the dishes in silence. They're working hand in hand as if they've done this already a hundred times. Afterwards, Katsuki packs away most of the stuff around camp and y/n wonders if that means he's leaving the clearing tomorrow.

Then, they sit by the fire. Y/n stares into the flames wondering what will become of her. She kind of doesn't want Katsuki to leave. Would he take her with him? Does she even want that?

Katsuki senses the woman's distress but is unsure what it's about or how he could help. Tomorrow, he would have to move camp if he wanted to catch up to that deer. He considers taking her along with him. Today, she didn't make any attempts to leave again. Maybe he could take her with him. So far, she's proven herself kind of useful and his dragon seems to like her. At least he hadn't tried to eat her while Katsuki was gone. Maybe y/n could find a place among his people. After all, every woman who becomes part of his tribe means one more chance for the next generation.

Katsuki gives her a side glance. The flickering of the fire reflects in y/n's eyes. Katsuki thinks she looks weak. Compared to the women in his tribe, she's small and there's not enough fat on her body. Living in the harsh mountains his tribe calls home, it will be hard for her to survive. Then again, she's not ugly Katsuki thinks. One of his men probably would take her on as his mate despite her obvious physical flaws.

Somehow, that thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and Katsuki shifts a bit. Y/n looks up and meets his gaze. She gives him a small smile. Then, carefully, she slides over and rests her head on his shoulder. Katsuki immediately stiffens but y/n doesn't seem to notice that. They sit in silence for a while and Katsuki doesn't dare to move a muscle. He would never admit it but he doesn't want to scare the woman away.

They stay until suddenly small drops of water hit their skin. "It's raining.", y/n says to herself. Katsuki pulls off his cape and puts it over y/n's head. He gets up and moves the bedroll towards the dragon. The rain is starting to pick up. The dragon lifts up its wing and Katsuki puts the bedroll safely under the wing. He gestures to y/n to move over and y/n rushes to get under the dragon's wing.

They sit on the bedroll together leaning against the dragon's tummy. Y/n listens to the drumming of the water on the dragon's skin. Along with the rain, came the cold. It creeps under the dragon's wing and y/n hurdles closer to the dragon and Katsuki in order to stay warm. Katsuki pulls the cape off of her and puts it over both of them. Y/n leans her head back onto his shoulder. Eventually, Katsuki moves his arm and puts it around her allowing y/n to huddle closer to him.

Y/n should probably be embarrassed to be this close to a man or at least ashamed since she's unmarried. However, these are standards the wandering folks don't submit to. While they get married for life, they are way relaxed when it comes to premarital things. In a way, y/n thinks, that marrying has a bigger meaning to them than to the rest of the kingdom. Her people getting married means they choose each other forever. They don't marry for wealth or politics or because their parents said so. Often, a couple stays unmarried until their first or even second child is born. Being out in the cold all the time, it happened quite often that women fell pregnant before marriage. However, there was little judgment among the group. They take the saying 'it takes a village to raise a child' quite seriously. It doesn't matter where a child comes from.

Thus, y/n feels no shame in huddling closer to Katsuki. She thinks his skin smells nice and that he is warmer than any other person she has cuddled up before. Katsuki however is a little embarrassed. Actually, it's been a while since he has been with a woman this close. For one, there aren't many women around and for second he's got more important stuff to do. His mother has plans to ensure their family's lineage thus Katsuki does not have to think about finding a mate, unlike most men in his tribe.

It's still early and both of them aren't tired enough to go to sleep. So for now, they just sit in silence listening to the rain and the raspy breath of the dragon. They're both lost in their own thoughts. About their people, the future and maybe also a little bit about each other.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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