#i have to boast that my form was perfect and i was jumping very high | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 5- Be Wary Of Old Friends

Summary: Your boys may annoy you at times but you’ll protect them with your life, especially when an unexpected acquaintance makes themselves know.

Warning: monster hunting ensues, reader goes a little feral, a bard in danger

Masterlist

"Hey songbird!" You shout from across the small campsite to where Jaskier is, "You helping pack or are you going to finger that lute all day?" You add with an amused laugh as he throws you a half-hearted glare while you start to snicker at his almost grossed out face.

"Y/N, you are hilarious." Mutters the bard unenthusiastically as he places his prized lute in her travel case, suddenly you hear a stick snap to your left near the woods. Raising to your feet at the sudden noise, you sigh in relief once Geralt emerges from the forest.

"Ah, yes, there you are." Announces Jaskier as he gains Geralt's attention, "Your lady here has been harassing me for the past ten minutes that you've been out and about." He complains, Geralt turns to you with a raised eyebrow.

Scoffing you roll your eyes, "Oh please, I've been the only one doing anything helpful since you've miraculously disappeared, and Jask can't stop from fondling his lute in the meantime." Geralt's lips pull at the corners of his mouth as Jaskier lets out a gasp at your nonchalant explanation.

"I was not fondling anything Y/N! Maybe if I shoved a wooden stake through your chest you'd stop...uh, you'd stop....being mean to me...yeah." Exclaims Jaskier with a hand on his hip, lute strapped to his shoulder as Geralt looks from you to the bard. Oh, you are seriously enjoying this.

A smirk makes its way onto your face at his words, "I'd like to see you try, you pampered little princess." You sass with a raise of your eyebrow as he purses his lips together at your admittedly bland insult, you're just trying to rile him up for the fun of it.

"Maybe I can....be violent, you have yet to see what I can do with these hands." He boasts while Geralt packs a last bag onto Roach's back, doing his best to ignore yourself and Jaskier's back and forth comments.

"Oh right, besides gettin' it on with the ladies of the high court with those sneaky paws of yours...so we have to save your stupid ass when things go south." You chuckle while pulling on your cloak, Jaskier simply shakes his head at you as Geralt leads Roach over to where you're standing.

He gently nudges your arm affectionately, "Come on you two, time to go elsewhere before the sun goes down." Implores Geralt as he looks at your amused face, Roach letting out a snort of agreement.

Jaskier turns his head up towards the cloudy sky, "But it's not even seven in the morning yet." Protests the bard as you walk past him with a mischievous wink.

"You wanted to come remember. Get inspiration for your ballots and all the good shit." He shakes his head as a humored grin comes to his face, you got him there.

"Right. Right. You enjoy my company I know it." Calls after the bard while you continue up the woodland trail, trees and bushes to either side while he turns his attention back to Geralt, "I know it, she's fond of me I can just tell. Underneath all that mystery, satirical annoyance, unprecedented violent tendencies and whatnot. She thinks I'm interesting. Right?" Wonders Jaskier as Geralt leads Roach around him.

He glances at Jaskier for a moment to answer with a bit of wisdom, "Give it some time bard." He mutters, Jaskier jogs over to his side with a puzzled look upon his face implying that Geralt should continue, "It took me a while to gain her full trust and respect, she's just testing you Jask...it's in her nature or something of the like. It's how she shows her love, in her own way." The bard gives a thoughtful nod as he watches you walk down the trail.

"What do I have to do?" Wonders Jaskier with a shrug, "Kill a man with my bare hands...or..or perhaps I must tame a bear to juggle wild rabbit heads?" Inquirers Jaskier as he turns to look at you once again, his eyes going wide as he suddenly realizes you're nowhere to be found.

Jaskier nudges your Witcher who looks at him rather bored like, "Uh, Geralt...uh..wh-where has she gone. I don't happen to see Y/N anymore, I mean we haven't been walking that slow now have we?" He rambles nervously as his head turns from right to left and back down the trail again, "Geralt seriously, where the fuck did Y/N go....I'd really rather not have her scare me, again."

"Now watching you tame a bear..." Jaskier jumps while letting out a small yelp in surprise at the unexpected sound of your sly voice from behind him, "That would be interesting and very entertaining...but no, I just enjoy pushing your buttons cause let me be honest here, its too goddamn easy." Jaskier sends you a glare as you walk to his side while he tries to keep pace with you and Geralt.

"My gods Y/N you're such a...uh well...never mind it, I'm going to have to remind myself that you can hear incredibly well...and do," He points his fingers to your humored form, "That. Even traveling with you two for a whole year and all."

You slowly nod, a thoughtful expression on your face, "If I showed you what else I'm capable of, you'd probably shit yourself so don't fret, I'll save your eyes the horror." Jaskier glances at you with a wary doubtful look in his eyes as he hugs his lute closer in the cool morning breeze. Feeling his suspicious gaze upon you, a low chuckle escapes from your lips that sends mist into the crisp air like a dragon about to spit fire.

"Oh thanks I feel so much better now." Replies Jaskier, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

——

After a solid week of traveling through woodland trails, over bridges, and past rows of plowed fields. Your band of merry adventurers has made it to a small lakeside village overlooking magnificent mountains that tower high into the sky, ones that reflect beautifully off of the shimmering crystal blue lake below.

When you make it to the stables, the sky has turned into an exquisite mix of fiery oranges, reds, and purples that paint the sky and some of her wispy clouds overhead. A cool but refreshing breeze blows in your faces as it makes your cloaks flap in the wind with every new gust.

Once Roach has been fed and watered in her comfortable new temporary stall for the night, you and Geralt make your way to the only tavern in the village where Jaskier can be heard singing loudly his newest ballot. Something about how you and Geralt fought bravely back a pack of fierce shapeshifters on one hunt. The songs almost truthful, the exception being that the shapeshifters were actually old friends of Jaskier's who were pissed off cause he owed them money. In the end, they didn't get any money, mostly because they're not currently alive anymore to need it.

"I was hoping for a quiet evening, we could just drink our fill and then sleep in an actual bed for once....no one to bother us." Admits Geralt as he opens up the wooden door for you to walk inside the warm welcoming tavern.

Turning your face to look up at him you let out a yawn hidden behind your arm, "No one to bother us sounds very enticing." You muse while turning your attention back to the bustling tavern life.

The place is lit up with candles positioned at each table, a roaring fire casts shadows over the room from its prison in the hearth as you find an empty corner just perfect for yourself and Geralt. Taking the lead you walk past a couple drunken tavern goers on your way to the quiet corner of the place. Almost hidden from Jaskier's very loud singing that's taking place by the fire where a significant amount of women are sat, listening intently as they practically undress him with their eyes.

Sliding into the corner first, you lean yourself against the wall as Geralt sits down next to you, your legs touching even though there's enough room that you wouldn't have to be so close. You can tell how much he's been holding back since Jaskier has been around to ruin most of the fun.

Letting out a satisfied sigh as you close your eyes, your ears listen to the sounds of a woman's footsteps approaching your table, "Welcome travelers I'm Misha, what'll it be this even'n?" Announces a peppy teenager through a peculiar accent as she looks between the two of you with big curious brown eyes.

"Two ale's and whatever's on the menu for tonight." Mutters Geralt as you open your scarlet irises while holding your tired head up with the palm of your hand, a lazy smile painted onto your face. Her own eyes widen for a brief moment before she regains her bearings once again, flashing a nervous smile a she abruptly turns on her heel for the kitchens.

Looking over to the lively sight of the singing bard you smile, "Wonder who's going to keep Jask warm tonight, huh?" You chuckle as Geralt turns an amused smirk towards you while you shift your eyes back to the singing bard.

Geralt nudges his shoulder against yours, "Could be that blonde one in green or maybe the redhead to his left?" You find the ladies that he's referring to and watch as Jaskier gives the she-fox a charming wink.

Turning your attention back to Geralt, he looks down at you with a raise of his brow, "Oh it's definitely the redhead, she's already caught his eye so we needn't concern ourselves with him till morning, if all goes well for him that is." You muse as the tavern maid sets two ale's in front of you, a shy smile gracing her young face as she leaves.

Grasping your mug you take a hearty much needed chug before slamming it onto the table and wiping off your mouth, "Oh fuck yeah I've missed what real ale tastes like." You breath out happily as Geralt lightly sets his half empty mug onto the wooden table while you take another sip.

"It's not half bad." He admits with a shrug as you lean into his side.

You're about to comment on how lackluster his review was when your crimson eyes light up at the large single plate of trout and various steaming greens coming your way, "Ah yes our foods here."

After eating your meal and finishing off your glasses while forcing yourselves to listen to Jaskier's ballots that you've heard over a hundred times. You and Geralt get up and head to the bar for a key to a room upstairs. You watch as Jaskier disappears into a room with the redhead from earlier as you turn to face the young woman at the bar.

"Room for two....please." She gives you a quick nod before searching a drawer for the key to a room. Once she finds them you're able to take the rusted old key and walk over to the stairway as Geralt silently follows. The climb up is a short one, your quest taking you both to the end of the dimly lit hallway until you finally reach your room.

Stepping inside you look around the place and notice a small window, a decently large bed, and a fireplace next to it. The room isn't terrible if you're being honest and the bed looks incredibly inviting after sleeping on the ground for almost a month. Your face shifting into a pleasant grin as you drop your belongings and weapon onto the ground.

"Nice place." You add while turning around to give Geralt a knowing smirk, his face breaking out into a grin at your silent implications, "Guess we better test out the bed.." His golden eyes trail up your body as you continue, "make sure it's soft enough and..." You don't have time to finish as Geralt's soft lips have entrapped you into a heated embrace, his calloused hands snaking around you as yours does the same.

He gently leads you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed, your lips still locked with one another the whole time, even while he tenderly lays you onto your back. The mattress is soft and inviting as Geralt climbs over you, never once breaking the kiss to your great satisfaction.

——

Walking over to a table, three drinks in one hand and a plate of fresh bread and butter in the other. You watch in amusement at the morning faces of your Witcher and bard who look like they desperately need something to wake them up with.

"So Jask how was the redhead last night, was she all you'd dreamed of...did she fulfill every last perverted wish of yours?" You jest with a smirk as you set the drinks and plate of food onto the table, setting yourself down next to Geralt.

Jaskier shakes his head as a bashful smile appears onto his lips, "It was...very pleasant and uh...that's all the information I'll let you have." He retorts while taking a sip from one of the provided cups in an attempt at hiding behind the glass. Honestly you're kinda glad he has decided against spilling any private details, something he usually does much to yours and Geralt's disgust.

Geralt hums before adding in his two cents, "No one can quite resist your charms no matter where we seem to go." He deadpans while breaking off a warm piece of bread that he kindly hands to you before reaching over to break off a new chunk for himself.

Jaskier looks down with an almost shy smile before taking another sip, "Well, I try not to pride myself or anything, it's just a talent you see...which of course my voice and handiwork with my lute helps, also having you two as friends seems to peak some interest in the ladies now since I think of it." He replies as he stuffs a fluffy piece of bread into his mouth.

"Glad we could help then." You add with a cheerful raise of your mug before downing the rest of the liquid. The three of you taking a couple blissful minutes of peace to eat and wake up.

Glancing around the room you watch for any new tavern goers who may spark your interest as you suddenly decide to get on with your morning, "I'm going to pay, you two want anything while I'm up?"

"Um yeah, Valdo Marx's head on a shiny platter...that's all." Quips Jaskier with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"I'll see what I can do." You reply before turning around and walking over to the bar where the young brown eyed woman is tending to a customer.

Leaning your arms against the shiny wood of the counter you nod to the old man next to you who gives a cautious glare as you turn your head to the bartender, "Misha, right? Here's the coin for the room and the food. We'll be off soon enough."

She turns to you with a frown, "Just one night? That's too bad, we've actually been havin' some troubles 'round here recently and it would be wonderful if you and that Witcher could possibly help..."

"Will you shut it girl, we don't need no outsiders knowing of our business," Snaps the man from earlier as he sneers at her, "We got men handling it just fine." He adds with a gruff nod, his cold steely eyes intimidating to the innocent tavern maid.

Her once happy face goes sad as unshed tears form in her shimmering doe eyes while she ignores the grump, "Twenty are already dead miss, my poor brother included..."

"Shut your fucking mou.."

"If you interrupt her again I'll cut off your tongue and shove it up your ass." You threaten as your eyes glow bright red, the old greying man abruptly goes silent at your heated warning as you turn your cooler demeanor back to the young girl, "Tell me more about this...whatever the fuck that's slaughtering your village's men."

Her brows furrow in troubled thought as she looks back up to you, "Uh, they come back looking, well...mutilated, their throats practically torn out, their chests ripped open and their eyes gone, bodies pale as ghosts." A frightful expression flashes across her terrified face, "But it's not just the men.." She whispers while leaning her head in closer to yours, "The village women have gone missing, snatched from their beds in the middle of the night...never seen from again...no one knows who takes them but..."

"How long has this been going on for?" You quickly interrupt, wanting to find out if your growing suspicions are possibly correct.

"About five months now, it happens around the same time every month in fact, oh god...this night is when the beast usually strikes...", A single tear runs down the side of her face as she tries to control her trembling, "I don't want to be taken miss, but I must tell you....some have said that the creature walks like a man, is too swift to be truly seen, and can magically get into your house...no matter if its locked or not." Your eyebrows furrow in concern for the girl and this alarming news that's slowly starting to fit into place.

"You said tonight yes...hm alright, where have these bodies been found, I mean isn't there any tracks in the mud or sand, on trails?" Misha quickly shakes her head as the old man listens intently, thankfully minding his own.

Smirking at a new and appealing thought you find her wary eyes once again, "I've gotten an idea, would your village happen to have a carriage for long traveling, I think we may be able to lure the beast away from the village with the thing during the time that you claim it comes into town." She gives a hopeful smile as you return one just the same.

"Miss I can get that arranged for you in no time. Meet me by the stables, an hour before sunset and my father will have the carriage waiting....oh bless you, he'll be ever so grateful." She affirms happily with a beaming smile, though behind it all you can tell how truly terrified she really is. She hopes whatever plan you have works, you're hoping it will too.

Setting down your coin, she quickly takes it before tending to another tavern goer, but as you turn to leave the old man grasps your arm, "Do you really think its possible, that the man-beast can be killed?" He wonders in a hushed tone as he looks up with pleading eyes, they soon turn skeptical once again, "I don't believe a word anyone says until I see it with me own two eyes."

Removing his arm from your own you nod to him, "I'll gut the fucker and put its head on a spike, then you'll know for yourself." His face morphs into a troubled expression as you leave him doubting by the bar, your mind now set on how to handle the new problem hiding like a coward in the woods.

—-

Walking to the stables with Geralt by your side and Jaskier on your tail, you casually touch the side of your hip, making certain that your silver dagger is still in its place.

"So what...or I guess whom do you presume this monster is again Y/N?" Questions the bard as he falls in step with you.

"I'll be one hundred percent certain once I actually see it, Jask. So until then, no more questions or I'll shove that pretty jacket of yours down your throat." You muse as he gives a curt nod.

"Yes alright, noted Y/N. Noted." Mutters Jaskier as Geralt holds back a laugh.

Once the three of you make it to the stables, you're pleasantly surprised to find a black two horsed carriage awaiting you along with Misha and her father who appears to be rather glad that someone is finally here to put an end to the deaths and mystery. She instructs you three to trek on the northern trail, where the pine forest is located, same area that the man-beast has made its hunting grounds, or so its claimed.

With that in mind you direct Geralt to take the reigns and for Jaskier to hold a silver sword as he keeps himself in the actual carriage, while you keep close by in the woods for a better view of the beast and where it may be coming from. Then just like that you're off and into the crisp night air as a full moon graces you all with its brightness upon the land, you fly through the great pine trees as you follow Geralt who's leading the horses down the wide woodland trail. Luckily the woods seem mostly vacant of bushes and greenery of the like, only tall bristly pines tower over the ground as they leave the woods shadowed from the rising moon.

"Geralt. Heyyyyyy Geeeeraltttt." Whines Jaskier from within the small carriage as Geralt holds tightly onto the leather reigns, a soft cool breeze blowing his silver hair back.

"What?" Grumbles the Witcher with a sigh, eyes set to the path ahead.

Jaskier leans back into the velvety cushions as he crosses his arms over his chest, "You think I could have a peek, you know...sit up there with you? I mean come on, I'm not seeing shit back here and I think.."

"No."

Letting out a huff in annoyance, the bard knocks onto the back of the wall where Geralt is leaned against on the other side, "Y/N doesn't have to know. I'll be as still as a statue and quieter then a dormouse...she'll never even know." Exclaims Jaskier has he pauses for a second to see if Geralt gives a shit, not getting anything he continues, "Come on, this man-beast or whoever the fuck can't be that horrendous now can it right? Those villagers could have been pulling her leg for all we know, what if its just a werewolf, I mean seriously it is a full moon after all. Perfect scenario, the stars are quit literally aligning....hellooooo its gotta be a werewolf."

"It left bodies and has taken multiple women, this is something else. So I advise you to shut the fuck up." Growls Geralt over the clip clopping of the horses hooves against the hardened ground. Jaskier wisely decides to keep silent and instead look out the tiny window as a way to distract himself. He watches as a sea of trees pass by, the occasional fern cluster rising from the roots, and a reddish brown blur that goes from tree to tree.

Squinting he realizes that this mystery blur is most definitely not just a figment of his imagination and quit possibly hunting them from the tree tops. He stares on in confused bewilderment as the man like thing jumps from one branch to the next in rapid succession, although he's only able to catch a prominent glimpse of it as the moonlight catches it when it jumps. The creature looks black in the white light of the full moon, a large healthy mane of reddish brown hair flying as it lunges from tree to tree. Still too fast to fully make out.

He blinks and a second later the creature is gone, Jaskier lets out a whispered "oh shit" as he shuts the tiny window and grasps the hilt of his silver sword while hastily knocking on the carriage wall, "Geralt I saw it, I fucking saw it...Y/N wasn't lying this thing is most definitely not a werewolf."

Geralt's brows furrow in confusion as he listens to what Jaskier is rambling on about, "What did it look like?"

"Like a fucking pale monkey man wearing black with red hair or something. I don't know it happened so fast...sorry I was too busy getting my prized jewels fondled by the lovely elven lady in this carriage to notice anything else." He sasses from the back as Geralt rolls his eyes, suddenly the carriage jostles from the rear like something has angrily rammed into it.

"That wasn't me." Squeaks out Jaskier with wide eyes as he firmly clutches his sword with both hands. A moment later something fast with sharp talons whips past Geralt's head from the right as it leaves a clean slice on his cheek, and then its gone again like it never even happened. He snaps his head in the direction of the creature, too late to catch a glimpse.

Eyeing up the area around him, he braces for another unexpected assault, "Where are you?" Whispers Geralt to no one in particular as he holds onto the reigns with one hand and a sword in his other as he waits for the beast to make itself known. He can sense the nervousness radiating off of the galloping horses as he watches ahead of him, the pine trees swaying in the wind, making it increasingly more difficult to tell where the beast is coming from. On the inside of the carriage Jaskier braces for more trouble as a moment later, without warning the carriage lifts off of the ground before slamming into the dirt trail with a loud crack. The back wheels snapping off with the abrupt impact, he falls forward into the nearby cushions as the carriage skids in the dirt.

"Fuck." Mutters Geralt through clenched teeth as the horses race onward, then to his great astonishment, one of them lets out a horrific scream as a river of blood pours forth from its muscular neck by an unseen force that he must have missed when he was trying to regain his bearings after the back wheels collapsed.

He watches in confusion and slight fear as the bleeding horse clashes into the other, the both of them abruptly tripping over themselves in a screeching heap as they fall to the earth. Bringing the carriage down with them, the Witcher jumps for the safety of the ground as the vessel tips onto its side, the only live horse whining in pain as one of the broken wooden pieces lodges itself into the poor animals stomach.

Jumping to his feet, Geralt races over to the bent in door where he quickly pulls it open to reveal a bruised bard, Jaskier's sword stuck into the back wall. He smiles up to Geralt as a trail of blood seeps out of his nose, "I'm gonna be honest here, but that was not something I'd rather ever do again." He confesses as the Witcher pulls him out and onto his feet as they stand back and assess their woodland surroundings.

Suddenly they hear a branch snap from up above near the tree line where the edge of the trail begins, before a dreamy chuckle snaps their attention over to a stunning pale faced man approaching them from out of the woods. He looks at them curiously through fiery ember eyes, his long tousled reddish-brown hair hanging all about as it cascades down his muscular shoulders all the way to his lower back. On his lean slender body does he adorn himself with black attire under an equally as dark long-coat that just barely touches the frosting ground below. He's rather quite attractive all things considered, as he swaggers through the moonlight with not a weapon in sight, or anything for that matter in his gloveless hands, only but a few golden rings clinging to their master that shine in the moonlight.

He hands Geralt and Jaskier a sly grin, revealing sharp pearly white fangs as he stops a good couple yards away from them, "So you're the infamous White Wolf...and of course...his loyal bard." Inquires the mysterious vampire as he speaks in an entrancing velvety voice, his glowing irises watching their every move as he tilts his head to the side, "But alas, you lack one which I would love to grace my aged eyes upon once again." Reveals the enticing man as he looks dismally to the ground before he raises his head to smile again, his beautiful reddish hair parting perfectly onto either side of his sculpted marble face.

"Are you the one who's been killing men and taking the women?" Snaps Geralt as he points an accusing sword towards the smirking vampire.

The man merely shrugs, a single hair falling seductively over his eye as he peers through it at your Witcher, "The men are simply human cattle, barely worth the air they breath. The women on the other hand, came willingly into my open arms from their beds and rather dreary mundane lives. My compliant acquisitive lovers if you will." Assures the ember eyed vampire as he takes a step closer, Jaskier taking one back as he stands behind Geralt, the vampire smirking at him as Jaskier tries to hide.

"Don't touch the bard." Growls Geralt while holding up his silver sword defensively, "He's not worth your energy."

The vampires face changes to that of a fake pout, "Oh my dear Witcher, I admire your bravery and valor...but I'm hungry and I will get what I desire one way or another." The vampires fiery eyes darken as he races towards the two of them in a black and orange blur, Geralt and Jaskier falling helplessly onto the crunchy leaves just mere feet from one another as the vampire paces in front of them like a lion in a cage. The bloodsucker suddenly stops and watches in amusement as the two groan in pain while trying to sit up again. He tilts his head to the side like a curious wolf observing their prey, before deciding to take another step.

"Velkyn."

He halts all movement as his body goes tense for a split second before his otherworldly charming aurora surrounds him once more, with a fangy smile upon his dashing features he turns around to the low growl emitting from deep in your throat.

His orbs of hellfire trail you up and down as you glare at him, "Why don't you look stunning, my dear Y/N. How longs it been...ninety, one-hundred, two-hundred years my love?"

Your face turns into a pissed off scowl at his words, "You. Don't get to call me that, you fucking cocksucker." He unpretentiously lets out a mock gasp at your bold sharpness, amused that you're still as out-spoken and feisty as ever.

Setting a hand on his slender hip, Velkyn smiles an incredibly punchable grin, "Ouch. You haven't seen me in almost two-hundred years and the second those beautiful scarlet eyes of yours grace my body..."

"What are you doing away from Alkatraz?" You interrupt as your fists clench in agitation, "What, did they finally see how much of a piece of shit you actually are?" You snap as he sends you a nasty glare, the side of his nose scrunching up in displeasure.

"I chose to leave the coven, the Queen gave her blessing an..."

"Right. You mean she threatened you, giving yourself one chance to flee before her death-hounds tore you to shreds. Sounds more plausible." You impede as he squints at you menacingly.

Jutting out a hip, he eyes you up once again, "Very clever, princess. No matter....you will leave me alone and I will continue on my marry way as things have gone on, before you decided to ruin everything."

Letting out an amused chuckle, you slowly unsheathe your silver dagger, "You're nothing but a cantankerous infant, murdering innocents....seducing the women while having your fun and sucking them of their life force." He tilts his head up as his flaming irises never once leave your face, "I know they didn't go willingly you fucking diseased little cunt....I'm rather going to enjoy as I watch the lights go out, leaving you as nothing more then food for maggots." Velkyn hums in irritation before swiftly turning around and bolting for Geralt and Jaskier.

But before he's able to reach them you're at his side, throwing him into a tree as he smacks into the tough wood with a clash of bark and limbs. Once he's onto his two feet again, he looks up just as you violently grab his shoulders and in one fluid motion, throw him across the forest floor. Geralt and Jaskier watching on with wide eyes the whole time.

"Fuck me, you still have it." Sputters Velkyn as a single red streak of blood trails down the side of his mouth. You smirk at this pathetic excuse of a vampire as you race towards him in a blur, he tries to retreat but before he can even get up off of the ground you've already cracked your boot against his skull. He tumbles in the dirt with a pained grunt, suddenly flying up to his feet in an instant as he growls at you. Within seconds he's thrust you into the trunk of a tree as your dagger falls from your hand at the sudden impact, he tightly grasps onto your arms as he throws you harshly upon the trail, leaving you dazed and more furious then ever.

"Not as clever as you'd like to think you are Y/N, I drink human blood. You don't." He brashly affirms as he watches you pick yourself up from the ground, dirt and blood smeared against your face. Licking the bloody cut now adorning your bottom lip, you mockingly chuckle at him, earning a puzzled expression across his pale features while the slice in your skin heals.

"You can't kill me." The whites of your eyes begin shifting to an obsidian black as your skin turns a greyish blue color, "I am Y/N of Alkatraz, the Vampire Queens only daughter....do that again and I'll rip out your entrails while you scream for death."

Velkyn hisses before turning himself into a half man half bat-like creature, face a contortion of bat and human man, his skin a milky pale as a large pair of webbed wings emit from his back. He suddenly screeches at you before spreading out his wings, readying himself to take flight. Doing what you know must be done to prevent his escape you shift yourself into a similar form, a pair of greyish blue wings stretching out from your back muscles as you thrust yourself into the air, just as Velkyn reaches the tops of the tree branches.

Gaining on him in no time, you grasp his pale human sized bat leg, he snaps his grotesque bat-like face down to you while you growl at him from below, "Fuck do you think you're going?" You snap before pulling him down to the harsh forest floor, he lands roughly onto his back as your legs fall to either side of him.

Growling in fury he quickly shoots up his talons in an attempt at clawing at your chest and face, but before he's able to commit anymore damage. You've ripped open his exposed stomach with a single slash of your claws, a second later he lets out a blood curdling shriek as a hot river of red pours out of him, his insides beginning to seep out just the same.

In a desperate last attempt to injure you, his eyes go wide in raging madness as his free arm lunges for your neck, you see it coming a mile away. So in retaliation you quickly pin his arms to the ground as you sink your fangs deep into his pale neck as he cries out in agony at your vicious assault. You feed on him until he's gone limp, your more primal hunger taking over your vessel until you abruptly catch the familiar scent of your Witcher and fearful bard.

Releasing Velkyn's mutilated throat, you shift back into your normal self as blood drips down from your chin and neck, tiny red droplets plopping onto the frosty hardened earth below like warm raindrops on a spring afternoon. Breathing heavily you avoid their suffocating gazes that you're sure are terrified from what you've just done.

"Uh, Y/N. You alright?" Wonders Jaskier as you slowly trail your crimson eyes upon his concerned face. You're confident that you look like a wild animal right now, with your hair a mess, clothes dirty, and half your face covered in blood. But nonetheless they look at you kindly, their brows furrowing in worry for your well-being.

Geralt suddenly makes eye contact with you before reaching down to pick up your forgotten silver dagger, he takes a step forward as he reaches out the dagger in your direction.

On instinct you glide backwards, setting your boots upon the ground once more as your Witcher frowns, "Y/N I wouldn't dare lay a hand upon you.." He assures with sincere pleading eyes as you look down to the grass below. Slowly lifting your blood covered hands into your line of sight, you stare at them with wide saddened eyes as tiny beads of ruby falls to the ground.

"My hands, they're covered in..."

"I know," Your eyes trail up to find his golden irises, "come on there's a stream down the trail, we'll get you cleaned up. Then we can go to the tavern and sleep until the next evening if that's what you'd like" Assures Geralt with a gentle smile upon his handsome face, he understands how much of a monster you truly feel right now, so he's willing to do whatever he can to bring you a bit of comfort in this overwhelming moment.

You let out a tired huff of air as he slowly approaches you, his face so close to yours you could almost touch him, but you don't considering you're covered in blood, "I think I'll take you on that offer, but could you stop looking at me with those pretty eyes of yours before I lose my self control. You're doing it again." You muse with a small smile upon your blood stained face.

"And what would you do then?" He challenges in that lowly voice of his, those big amber eyes taking you all in no matter how grisly your state of being is.

Smiling up at him through your pearly white fangs you lean in close, "Then I would mark you as all mine, in my own way of course. You'd love it without a doubt in my mind." He blinks, a lovestruck expression crossing over his features with a brief flash of lust hidden in his golden eyes while he leans in a tad closer. Your faces so close that you can see every little beautiful blemish and scar adorning his skin as his eyes swallow you whole.

"Uh guys? Can we...you know....leave. I don't know if you've noticed but we have two dead horses and a bloody monster corpse within smelling distance. And wheew, it is not a pleasant scent." Interrupts Jaskier, breaking the intimate moment between you and Geralt as you take a step back to laugh. Geralt's loving gaze following you the whole time before he turns around to glare at the oblivious bard.

—-

Laying your tired head against the soft pillows of the warm tavern's bed, you look up to the wooden beamed ceiling as Geralt holds you close by his side, a protective muscly arm pinning you to the mattress. Not that you'd mind or anything, in fact it feels rather pleasant after your taxing encounter with an old acquaintance of yours just last night.

You sleepily close your eyelids as you listen to the soft snores emitting from your dreaming Witcher, a blissful smile forming onto your lips as he pulls you closer in his sleep. Maybe life in this mystery box of a Continent isn't so bad when you have someone like Geralt to take care of you when things get a bit out of hand.

And with you, that seems to happen a lot.

Tagged: @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce @diegos-butt (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work)

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x reader #geralt x you #Of monsters and men fic

321 notes · View notes

shiggy-94 · 4 years

Text

Confessions

The Karasuno and Shiratorizawa game were at its final match and tensions were at an all-time high. Karasuno's at match point and are on the cusp of winning the game.

Your stress levels had been through the roof since it all started, seeing how many times Karasuno and Shiratorizawa were going back and forth in an endless tie.

But right now Karasuno had the upper hand. The score was 19-20 in favor of Karasuno and they were doing their all to get that last point in. Giving their all on and off the court for this very moment.

Everyone was on the edge of their seat, most even standing up, anticipating the next moves. Until Tsukishima caught on to their plays. He was able to set up a plan that would catch them off guard. The team followed along and was able to keep the ball in their favor up until the very end.

And for just one moment everything slowed down. It was as if time decided to slow down for just a second making everyone in the room stopped breathing. It all happened in slow motion. Hinata changing his tempos making him the only one in the air. His hand coming up ready to hit the ball. And for just a second time completely stopped as Hinata hit the ball sending it to the other side.

Shiratorizawa's libero, Yamagata, is able to hit the ball before it falls sending it to the air. Everyone breath holds watching as the ball flies up in the wrong direction and falling out of bounds automatically giving Karasuno the point they were desperately fighting for.

Everyone is quite letting the moment fully settle in and as soon as it did the crowd erupted in cheers. Your eyes move down to where your best friend, Yu Nishinoya, is at. Smiling the moment you see him tackle Tsukishima. You run down from the stands towards the court being followed by Yaichi and Saeko. You reach the bottom immediately making eye contact with him. He gets up off the floor making his way towards you.

"Yu!!!" You yell out running towards him.

"Y/n!!!" He yells back meeting you halfway and wrapping you up into a hug.

You both start jumping not letting go of each other's embrace. You lean back to meet him your hands cupping his face. "You did it Yu!!" He stares at you his feature beyond excited and happy. Everything about this moment felt right. The way his hands were wrapped around your waist hugging you tighter every time you moved. The way your hands felt on his face making him lean into your touch. It was perfect.

You gently caress his face before leaning forward and gently pressing your lips on his. Basking in the feel of his soft lips against yours that you almost didn't realize what you were doing. You felt how his body froze up the moment you kissed him. How his heart began pounding in his chest and blood rush to his face.

You pull away as soon as you realized what you were doing. "S-sorry I didn't..." you were cut off by Yu pulling you back to him. His lips perfectly molding to yours. His hand spread out against your back keeping you close to him until Hinata calls him out. Slowly leaning away from you keeping his gaze on you.

"Nishiya!!" Hinata yells out to him running up to you guys. "...um hey we need to line up..." he tells Yu trying his hardest to act normally after seeing you both kiss. Yu chuckles at him before turning to look at you. "Meet me after the line-up," he tells you leaning over giving you a quick peck before leaving with Hinata.

You stood there for a moment. Your face a light shade of red and lips curled up in a smile. Processing everything that just happened to try to relive it until Saeko comes up behind you her hand grasping your shoulder breaking you out of your trance.

"C'mon love bird we gotta watch the final ceremonies" she chuckles pulling you back to the stands.

The ceremonies go by quickly and before you know it, your sitting outside the auditorium waiting for Yu. You begin to see people pour out of the building team after teams leaving Karasunos for last. You congratulate the boys on their win Tanaka immediately going for a hug. You laugh hugging him back. He pulls away to look at you "I'm pretty sure we won because of you" he boasts.

"I highly doubt that. You guys worked so hard you deserve this." You grin at him looking behind him to see Yu. He turns around seeing Yu, "Well I'll let you love birds get to it" he smirks walking away giving Yu a wink. He groans hiding the smile forming on his lips.

"Hey," you say awkwardly as he starts to walk towards you coming face to face with you. "Hey"

"So...." you begin but are cut off once again by Yu. He cups your face smashing his lips against yours.

"You have no idea how long I have waited to kiss you" he mumbles against your lips "To have you in my arms and feel you kiss me back" his arms make their way around your waist pulling you flush against him.

Your hands are pressed against his chest feeling his heartbeat go crazy. Your hands make their way up to his neck your thumbs caressing his jaw.

"We should have done this a long time ago" you mumble against his lips feeling his tongue intrude your mouth. Your breath hitches feeling his tongue massage yours his arms pulling you deeper into his embrace.

You guys stood there making out in front of the auditorium for a bit longer. Only stopping once the need for air became too much to bear.

Yu looks up at you smiling, "How long ago should we have been doing this then?" he questions actually processing what you had said earlier.

"Well, I don't really have an exact date. I just know that once we got older I didn't see you as someone with who I just wanted to be friends with" you quietly answer looking down at your hands. Memorizing the way they looked around his neck, something you had done million times before when hugging him but right now it seemed so brand new to you.

"If I'm being honest I felt the same way" he grins staring at your face. Memorizing the way your lips quirked up into a grin the moment he spoke. How your grip on him tighten and body instinctively got closer to him.

"So what does this mean?" you question eyes meeting his. He has a smile on his face one you hadn't seen at least not this close.

"I think we both know what this means" he grins leaning forward to kiss you his lips lingering memorizing this moment where things officially started. Where it was just you and him from now on.

@flannel-cladpika

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #yu nishinoya #yū nishinoya #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya x you #nishinoya x y/n #nishinoya yuu #yuu nishinoya #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #nishinoya yu scenarios #nishinoya yuu x y/n #yu nishinoya x reader #yu nishinoya blurb #haikyuu nishinoya

204 notes · View notes

juurensha · 2 years

Text

Ship Meme: Iwaizumi/Oikawa

Now for my favorite sports anime pairing, let’s talk about Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru from Haikyuu!

Spoilers for the series under the cut!

Iwaizumi Hajime:

Also known as Iwa-chan exclusively to Oikawa, Iwaizumi is Aoba Josai’s ace spiker and Oikawa’s old childhood friend. If you can’t tell by the pictures, he’s a bit of a gruff guy, and pretty grumpy when he has to deal with all of Oikawa’s shenanigans. Still, he fully supports his old friend, and he’s the voice of reason and emotional support for Oikawa when he needs it.

I have absolutely loved Iwaizumi ever since he pitched that volleyball at Oikawa’s head in the middle of him smarming! He’s the straight man to Oikawa’s drama king, and I always dearly do love a vitriolic friendship’s deadpan snarker.

Oikawa Tooru:

Also known as the Great King (mostly Hinata), and Shittykawa and Trashkawa by Iwa-chan! Aoba Josai’s captain and ace setter and Iwaizumi’s childhood friend, he looks cheery and childish at first glance, but don’t let any of that fool you, this man’s personal motto is “If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks.” He’s an extremely hard worker who has gotten that skilled based on intense training and practice, so he does resent natural born geniuses like Kageyama and Ushijima. When he’s not busy training, he’s busy pushing all of Iwaizumi’s buttons to drive him berserk :DDD

Oikawa is honestly one of my favorite anime characters, I think. He’s somewhat selfish, childish, and envious, but he’s also hilarious, a good captain, and such a hard worker. He’s a very relatable character in some ways, and I’m so glad he gets to live out his dream.

IwaOi:

Okay first off, they’re childhood friends, my absolute favorite trope. And they’ve got their vitriolic friendship going on! Oikawa coos at his fangirls, Iwaizumi throws a volleyball at his head. Oikawa says Iwa-chan is so scary and girls will never love him, and Iwazumi threatens to strangle him. But when the chips are down, Iwaizumi will hold Oikawa back from pushing himself too hard or doing something he’ll regret, and Oikawa has perfect trust in Iwaizumi, always trusting that he has his back during games. Also, Iwaizumi even said in an extra that Oikawa is a partner he can boast about and an amazing setter, but if they face off against each other, he’s not going to hold back (which you know is true love right there :DDDD). It’s all about the trust and devotion with these two, along with the bickering.

And their characters were designed in parallel with one another! Oikawa’s birthday is Alexander the Great’s birthday while Iwaizumi’s is Alexander the Great’s death, their first names combined form the word for “dauntless,” and even in the finale, with Oikawa off in the Argentinian team and Iwaizumi working as the trainer for the Japanese team, it’s implied they’re still in touch! They’re probably as canon as a Shonen Jump sports manga series can be hahahaha.

juu, don’t most of the ace/setter pairs in the series have parallel designs with one another?

Yepppppp, and they’re all very shippable too! Hahaha, Haikyuu has so many pairs that are so fun to ship, but I have to pick IwaOi as my favorite just because it’s the pair that brought me into Haikyuu in the first place! (Also, childhood friends. Although technically, all these pairings become the childhood friends trope if you move to where they’re not in high school anymore)

Oooh, juu, what fic got you into Haikyuu?

Something Borrowed by rageprufrock! Quick warning that it’s an ABO AU, and it was written before the manga finished, so obviously it doesn’t follow the canon for that, but it’s a lovely fic with I still think, the best characterizations of Oikawa and Iwaizumi navigating life after high school together, and I reread it often.

juu, what do you think about Oikawa nearly hitting Kageyama back in middle school?

I think that obviously that wasn’t cool and it was good that Iwaizumi managed to stop him before he could. That being said, Oikawa was a teenager back then, and teenagers do stupid shit especially when they’re stressed. He regrets it, and I think he’s learned from it and managed to channel his emotions better now (towards CRUSHING KAGEYAMA AND KARASUNO but that’s alright)

juu, do you have a favorite Haikyuu team?

Okay, so it’s going to be no surprise when I say Aoba Josai, right? My two favorite characters are in it! That being said, I of course still love Karasuno with their crow motif, and I like Nekoma very much too.

#ship meme #iwaoi #haikyuu #iwazumi x oikawa

13 notes · View notes

rhaenyratargeryn · 3 years

Text

A few weeks ago I wrote slutty, slutty Kent x Button fic and then didn’t post it-- but now I’m gonna and reveal myself as a thirsty ho.

title: reciprocity rated: explicit fandom/pairing: Mind Blind (IF) Kent Zarneki x f!Button Wiseman summary: One photo leads to another leads to another... Button could open a gallery with the sheer volume of nudes she possesses of one Kent Zarneki.

It had started innocently enough. At least, that was the lie I was telling myself because in all honesty, what was innocent about sending your boyfriend a selfie— when that selfie was really just a strategically cut close up of the new strappy bralette you’d bought, peaking out from the unbuttoned V of your Aeon uniform top? Nothing. Absolutely god damn nothing.

The text I sent: new! shockingly comfortable. didn’t want to rip it off as soon as I got home

Kent’s message bubbles were silent, but the “read” notification had gone off. I grinned slyly to myself, getting comfortable back up against my bed pillows. Kent blushed so infrequently, I had made a game of it as much as Glitch, though I had had unprecedented success. Glitch had given me a withering look at the boast.

I mean. It was obvious why I did.

My phone dinged, the notification image showing that in lieu of a text, Kent had sent an image of his own. I clicked the tiny preview and was awarded with a picture much like my own, Kent’s tie loose around his neck, the buttons of his shirt undone to show the pale expanse of skin beneath. I could just barely see the line of his jaw, the smirk ticking up the corner of his lips.

I responded by undoing my own shirt down to my waist, pushing the fabric down around my shoulders and using my arms to help my cleavage look fuller. This was dangerous. Very dangerous, but I shook my head to let my hair cascade down across me, took a few shots and sent the best one.

Are you in bed?

Kent’s reply. Followed shortly by another photo. He had put aside ceremony and fully removed his shirt, revealing he was in bed himself. The dark sheets contrasted against him. All that Aeon training had sculpted and carved him into a lean, but strong figure. He was not bulky, like Grayson, cut more narrowly at his waist which gave his shoulders an even fuller illusion of broadness that made my hands ache to run over them.

Kent Zarneki, in short, was too fucking hot for his own good.

I am

Im taking my clothes off

I assume that is what we are doing?

I sent the three texts in quick succession. The message bubbles in reply were brief.

yes

The image that followed was enough to send a hot pang right down into my stomach. He’d unbuttoned his trousers, using the thumb of his free hand to hold down the band far enough I could see the line of his pelvis and the dark hair that dusted across.

If you want to

I want to

I took off my shirt, throwing it aside without care. I had chosen to wear a high-waisted black skirt that day, which was all the better. I very carefully slid my hand up the cup of my bralette, letting the fabric rise up to show the under curve of my breast, appearing fuller when pressed up into my palm.

I sent it and in a second got a reply.

Off

I smirked. Kent had already been naked from the waist up for some time now. I received a sequence of three images, all of which where very flattering shots of Kent’s own torso and abs.

Seems only fair

I pulled the lacy fabric up and over my head as easily as my shirt, looking down at my own pale breasts, my nipples already hardened in the cool air and in anticipation. Shyness fell over me like a cold shower. Kent had never seen me naked before. What if I was too small? What if I was too big? Was my right breast always that much different from my left? Anxiety panged in my stomach as intense as arousal and despite my delay, Kent’s messages remained silent.

Patient. Waiting.

I could cheat. Brushing my hair over my shoulders, the strands lay perfectly over the tops of my breasts, hiding them from clear view, but not as much as my bralette did. I let the photo catch just the bottom half of my face, my tongue stuck out to the side. Teasing. Taunting. Like it was on purpose, not because I was nervous.

Kent didn’t respond for several minutes. The next image, I felt my mouth go dry. I could very clearly see the outline of his erection, pressing against the groin of his pants and going down the leg.

He wasn’t wearing boxers. Of course he wasn’t. This was Kent Zarneki, a man who was one bad day away from leaving everything and joining a nudist colony.

Is this okay?

It was more than okay. It was super okay. It was, please-send-me-more-now okay.

I relayed as much through the text message and got a photo that sent my heart racing. It was just him. His cheeks flushed, his gray eyes dark and storming, a smug smile half formed on his lips. His dark hair was messy and I nearly groaned with frustration at how badly I wanted to run my fingers through it, tug on it, pull that smirk against my own and kiss it off his face.

The next photo I sent him I hid nothing, cupping my breast in my hand and making as if I was drawing my thumb over my nipple. I showed my face, trying my best to look as effortlessly sexy as him— though no matter what I did, my smile was always more playful than sultry. My cheeks flushed with more than just wanting.

Cute

High praise

I replied, trying to remind myself his short responses were normal and not to read into it.

You want praise?

You’re driving me crazy

His words hit me like a sucker punch. His next photo is the second one I didn’t see coming.

No man this gorgeous should ever be blessed in such a way. There were really no words other than “pretty” to describe the flushed skin of his length, not overly long, but definitely blessed where it counted. Or at least where I had heard it counted. It’s all about the girth. My mind supplied in its best Cosmo magazine voice.

The tip was, in all honesty, a very pretty shade of darkened pink, and curved with a sort of perfection that should have been reserved to— I don’t know. Porn stars? Dick models? Do dick models exist? Hand models sure do, and the way his hand was wrapped around himself was enough to make me think he could easily be one of those too.

Cute

I snap back and I can practically hear him laugh in my mind.

High praise

More?

Is that an offer or a request?

Both

How could I say no? I definitely didn’t want to. I found the zipper at the top of my skirt and slid it down. I was left in just my panties and hose. I rolled the hose down low on my thighs, sitting up on my knees to take a photo. Hesitating for just a moment, I flicked the camera over to video and let my hand run down over my thigh and then across my hips. I drew my finger over my center, my breath hitching and my hips moving forward as I rolled against my own touch.

I sent it.

And after a moment I got a video in turn. I watched Kent’s hand glide up over his length in slow, languid motions, pausing to rub his palm against the tip of his head. Teasing himself with the lightest touch. His cock flexed and jumped, a tiny gruff sound escaping his lips and reminding me that even though I couldn’t see his face this was Kent. My Kent.

I nearly dropped my cellphone as it began to vibrate, an incoming call displaying on the screen. I laid back, pushing my hose off the rest of the way as I answered. The line was silent before I finally broke it with a breathy- “hey.”

“Are you naked?” Kent’s voice was low, strained, but somehow eager.

I took a quick moment to slide my panties off, kicking them away.

“Now I am.”

Kent took in a deep breath. I let my hand trail between my legs, touching myself in the familiar way I did when I was alone. I traced my index and middle finger up my labia, spreading the soft warm skin, dipping my fingers into the center where I was slick and hot.

“I’m touching myself.” I said, my voice a broken whisper. Kent made a gruff sound of acknowledgement.

“Kent...” I said, “You made me so wet.”

He moaned.

“Is that okay?” I said, teasing him. I appreciated his caution, his check ins, making sure I was enjoying myself.

“Yes. Yes, it’s okay. Tell me.”

“Wow. Six whole words? Be careful, you’ll make me come.”

“That’s the idea.” Kent said, a breathless laugh filtering through his words.

“What about you? Having fun yet, Zarneki?”

Kent made a sound and I heard the rustling of sheets and the faint click of the phone camera shutter. My phone chimed, an image appearing of the head of his cock, wet with pre-cum he was smearing around the tip.

My tongue slid out against my bottom lip.

“Kent, don’t take this the wrong way— but you have such a pretty penis.”

He snorted.

“I’m serious. I want to put it in my mouth, which is not something I thought I’d ever say to any guy. But like? It just looks so appealing.”

“You’re killing me.” Kent said, a groan that sounded almost exasperated coming from his throat. It was hard to tell.

“With my witty charm or because I put a very naughty image in your head?”

I slipped two fingers into my mouth, pursed my lips, made a show of how wet and soft they looked and sent it to Kent.

“Shit—“

I felt a burst of pride at his expletive and found my clit with my fingertips, circling in a quicker pace.

“I like listening to you.” I said, thoughtless. I sighed, feeling my whole body warming, “Wish it was closer.”

“...I’m just down the street.” Kent said, trying to play it off like it was a fact and not a very tempting invitation.

“But this is fun. And naughty. And I get a keepsake.”

I heard the question in his voice, almost masked by a small groan. I wondered what his hands were up to.

“The photos. Speaking of which... I wouldn’t mind an after shot.”

“After?”

“After I make you come all over yourself, Zarneki.”

I heard his breath hitch.

“Only if I get one too.”

“You got it.”

Talking became a non-priority then. The only thing I strained to hear was his breaths, his soft moans, the faint wet sound I sometime thought I heard over the receive— or maybe that was me. I felt flooded, with heat and wanting and need. I pressed harder, worked my palm flat against my clit and stroked my fingers inside, imaging how much further Kent’s slender fingers could reach. Imaging his tongue. That pretty cock.

“Kent.” I whimpered, the involuntary clutch of my walls around my fingers my bodies way of telling me it wanted all of that and more.

“Good?” Kent murmured, a faint reply.

“Yes— I... I just keep imaging if it were you.” I don’t need to explain. I can tell by the way his breathing has fallen into faint rhythmic pants that he got my full meaning and he liked it.

“...me too. I want... I want you.” Kent paused, his next words coming out with earnest sweetness, “I’ll wait as long as you need... but I’m ready. I want it. This. With you.”

Whatever I was thinking, whatever I wanted to say fuzzed out around the edges as a prickling sensation spread out from where my fingers were rolling and pressing in tandem. I coaxed my climax out, the peak hanging on the edge for a wonderful few tense moments before it fell. I whimpered, the sound coming out louder than I intended.

I heard Kent swear, or say my name or some combination of the two and then his voice pitched up for just a moment, a gasping moan aching from his throat.

I was hot, messy and completely boneless, laying back on my bed and feeling like I could fall asleep right then and there.

But I owed Kent a picture.

I spread myself open, the puffiness, the redness and slickness hopefully all the evidence he needed to see I had most definitely orgasmed. The moment I opened the chat to send it I received his in turn. His cock lolled back against his stomach, a line of cum connecting to the opaque white puddle settled there. There were drops across his chest and a few splatter across his hand.

My walls clutched hard as I thought what it would feel like to lick him clean.

I sent my own photo, the two of us quiet now, content with just listening to the sound of the other breathing through the phone speaker.

“So. Shower photo shoot next?” I said, unable to hide a nervous giggle.

“Give me just a second to get a towel.”

I had been kidding, but the eagerness in Kent’s voice was enough to make me decide to not correct him.

#mind blind cog #mind blind #kent zarneki x button #kent x button #kent x f!button #mb fanfic #mind blind fanfic #IM SORRY PLEASE DONT READ MY GARBAGE I AM A SLUTTY SLUTTY PERSON #AND MY BUTTON IS VERY THIRSTY I DONT MAKE THE RULES #EXCEPT I DO #i can not believe i am tagging something 'lemon' in this day of our lord 2021 #but ya #lemon

27 notes · View notes

littleabriel-blog · 3 years

Text

My Problem with Loki

Loki is a character beloved by many people. He has been for a decade now, although some people who read comics before the Marvel Cinematic Universe was a thing were fans of him long before the first Thor came out. Over the years since his appearance in that movie the character has gone through a lot of changes, evolving from a villain to an anti-hero both in the MCU and in the comics, the latter even killing off his original incarnation to reincarnate him in a younger body resembling Tom Hiddleston in the hopes that the comics could capitalize on his popularity in order to sell more books. That move, unfortunately, did not bear fruit, with Loki’s solo series being canceled after only five issues. However, Loki remained popular in the movies, so much so that when he was killed off in Infinity War, people were pissed.

As a result of his enduring popularity, Kevin Feige and company decided to give Loki his own solo series on Disney+ when the decision was made to create a string of MCU tie-in shows to supplement the movies, and boost subscription numbers to Disney’s new streaming service. Fans of the character rejoiced. Finally, our favorite character was going to be in the spotlight, and not be merely a supporting character for Thor and hopefully not a butt monkey for the Avengers like he was in the third act of the movie of the same name. WandaVision and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier had previously had well-received and successful debuts on that same platform, and it was hoped that Loki would do the same. Loki turned out to be the most successful of the Disney+ MCU shows that have come out so far, scoring highest in the ratings. As of this writing, it holds a 93% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes and an 8.5 on IMDb.

Those numbers, however, don’t reflect the entire audience and there were a lot of people who were not altogether happy with the product we received. Many people who had been hardcore fans of Loki since Tom Hiddleston first put on the horned helmet were not pleased, myself included.

The show wasn’t all bad. It did set up the multiverse, introduced Kang, introduced Mobius. The special effects were outstanding, a lot of the gags were hilarious, and we did get some character development from Loki before the spotlight fell away from him and he became all about panting after the real main character...more on that in a few.

So many things, however, were wrong.

If you liked the show, thought it was perfect, and were a fan of the romance, that’s perfectly fine. There is no such thing as a wrong opinion on a work of fiction. Everyone has their interpretations, everyone has their likes and dislikes, and there is nothing wrong with liking the show. There is also nothing wrong with not liking the show. This is a concept that people on both sides of the debate fail to understand, and I have witnessed flame wars, harassment from individuals on both sides, harassment of creators on social media from both sides, and various bits of biphobia, homophobia, transphobia, and other assorted types of phobias on display. I have seen people accuse people who have different opinions on the show than them of “not being a true Loki fan” and stating that people who have certain interpretations of the character don’t “truly know Loki”.

I’m not here to do that, and I assure you, if you liked the show, that’s fine. You’re allowed to. I’m allowed to not like it, and I’m allowed to explained why I didn’t like it just as you’re allowed to explain why you did. As long as both of us are being respectful, expressing an opinion is good. There is expressing an opinion and offering constructive criticism, however, and then there is namecalling, trolling, and having a tantrum and accusing someone of being “aggressive” when they don’t share the same opinion you do.

There is a huge difference between saying “I find the character of Sylvie to be problematic, and here is why” and “I think fans of Sylvie are sick and need therapy”, and people need to learn the difference between the two. Unfortunately, you have people who have become very protective of their favorite characters and tend to take any criticism leveled at said characters personally. It’s basically “You don’t like them? Well then you don’t like me, and since you don’t like me, I don’t like you.” Which is, frankly, a dangerous mentality to have. We are talking about fictional characters, not real people, and there is no need to jump to the defense of someone who does not exist. It is those people who tend to demonstrate that they have unstable personalities and immaturity, and they are the ones I have started blocking on Twitter because, being an adult woman, I don’t have the patience to deal with immature nonsense like that.

So, if you read this and then decide you want to hunt me down to give me a piece of your mind, tell me that I’m not a “true” fan of Loki, and accuse me of whatever, don’t bother. This piece isn’t here for that. It’s here because I wanted to compile my thoughts and feelings in a way that would better for me to articulate. It’s more or less a venting mechanism, purely for my benefit. If someone else gets something out of it, fine. If the creators of the show happen to see it, which is very unlikely because A) I’m not exactly going to push it onto them on their social media to get them to read it and B) they already get bombarded with tons of opinions on the show on a daily basis and aren’t going to care about one more voice added to the mix, even one who has basically compiled a novel, then alright.

And it is a novel, because I have a lot to say about Loki. I have been a huge fan of the character since long before Tom Hiddleston began playing him. My first encounter with Marvel’s Loki came in the form of the X-Men comics, specifically The Asgardian Wars run. It’s available in trade, and you should check it out. I read that run when I was around 10 years old, and I enjoyed Loki as the bad guy in the two stories that make up the collection. The first has him creating a special wish fountain that has a monkey’s paw effect in that it imbues mortals with special gifts and powers, and has the potential to make Earth a better place, but at the cost of killing every magical person and being on Earth. The X-Men and Alpha Flight find out about this after a plane piloted by the wife of one of the X-Men happens to crash in the general location the fountain is located. The two teams go to investigate, Shaman and Snowbird who are both magical beings begin dying, it’s discovered Loki created the fountain in order to score brownie points with The Ones Who Sit Above In Shadow (a pantheon of deities who are basically the Gods to the Asgardians), and after a lengthy battle Loki is defeated, he shuts down the fountain under pressure from The Ones, and slinks back to Asgard with tail between his legs.

In the second story, set after the heroes of Earth had helped Asgard defeat Surtur, Loki’s attention is caught by Storm, who at the time was depowered. He kidnaps her and brings her to Asgard intending to use her to replace Thor as the Goddess of the Storm, and use her as a pawn to, what else, conquer Asgard and seize the throne.

I really enjoyed Loki then, and felt sorry that he never appeared in any other X-Men story, not even in an issue of the New Mutants, and that team boasted an actual Valkyrie (Danielle Moonstar) as one of its members. I was a kid at the time and read pretty much exclusively X-Men since those were the books my father purchased for me. I never felt right about asking him for other books since we were a family with money struggles and I didn’t want to be more of a burden by requesting Thor or Avengers comics--that, and I just didn’t find Thor or the Avengers all that interesting at the time, a sentiment shared by a lot of people until the first Iron Man made us actually care about Tony Stark. I wouldn’t have an opportunity to start reading more comics featuring Loki until I was an adult and able to visit comic book stores on my own. I read several runs that featured him as a character, including Ragnarok, the Broxton, OK run where Loki first appeared as a woman, Dark Reign, and finally Siege. I also went back and read Walt Simonson’s legendary run on The Mighty Thor, which I highly recommend.

Suffice it to say, I’ve been a fan of the character for a long time, and in fact when Tom Hiddleston was cast in the role for Thor, I remember thinking that he was too young. But then I figured it was Hollywood, of course they’re going to deage Loki so that he appears closer in age to his adopted brother in contrast to the comics pre-Siege where Loki was often drawn to look like he was as old as Odin and therefore could be Thor’s uncle or even father as opposed to brother.

Over the years I grew to enjoy the MCU’s version of the character, enjoy Tom Hiddleston in the role, and like most other people was greatly saddened by his death in Infinity War. Like other fans, I looked forward to his solo series and had high hopes for it. Hopes that were, unfortunately, dashed.

It Was Rushed

In the MCU, it took Loki years to go from troubled young god, to villain, to ambivalent ally, to anti-hero, to hero. Literally, years. Months had passed between the end of Thor and the beginning of Avengers during which Loki endured who-knows-what at the hands of Thanos. We don’t know exactly what still. The Loki series didn’t answer that, I guess because they didn’t want to devote precious screentime to an interesting backstory for what was supposed to be the main character when they could focus on something else instead. That something else will be elaborated on.

In Episode 1, Loki is still the villain from Avengers, something he would have remained as into The Dark World. It would take him being in Asgard’s prisons for a year and then him accidentally getting his adopted mother Frigga killed in order for him to begin to do a heel-face turn. From this, we can clearly see that a transition from ax-crazy bad guy to anti-hero is not going to happen overnight. For this person I shall call Ragnarok Loki, it was a process that took time. He suffered a complete mental breakdown while in Asgard’s prison, a fragile emotional state that was compounded by the anger and massive guilt he felt at Frigga’s death.

Even after that, he still hadn’t completely abandoned his villainous ways. At the end of The Dark World we find out that after faking his supposed death earlier in the movie, Loki has assumed Odin’s form and taken his place on Asgard’s throne. In Ragnarok, Loki is still sitting on the throne in Odin’s form, and shows no indication at all that he feels any remorse for giving his adopted father amnesia, stripping away his magic, and abandoning him on Earth to whatever fate he might meet. Loki remains a selfish bastard throughout Ragnarok until the third act, after Thor had treated him to a taste of his own medicine by sticking a taser on him and then giving him a speech about becoming predictable and complacent.

Loki’s arc was one that spanned four movies and six years, since in-universe there were a couple of years between The Dark World and Ragnarok. That meant that his character development took actual time and was realistic. It was one of the things that drew people to the character, the fact that he had a very relatable and believable redemption arc.

Compare that to Episode 1. In less than a day he goes from being the Loki that we saw in Avengers, batshit crazy, selfish, callous, and untrusting, to making personal confessions to a man he had just met only a couple hours previously and agreeing to help the organization that had arrested, stripped, imprisoned, tried, and almost executed him.

What?

I will give the show this: In Episode 2, he shows that he’s still up to his old tricks when he feeds Mobius and the agents all that horsecrap about how a Loki works in the Ren Faire tent, and then revealing that he plans to take over the TVA when he confronts his variant in the futuristic Wal-Mart. The weeping confession to Mobius, that I can’t really get over. How do you go from haughty, arrogant, and “trust is for children and dogs”, to “I don’t enjoy hurting people” in just a couple of hours? The show never indicated that it was a manipulation tactic on Loki’s part. Instead, we were basically told to believe that they became friends just that fast. That emotionally stunted and closed-off Loki made a connection with another person in a matter of hours. Makes sense. Don’t get me wrong, I like Mobius and feel he makes a good foil for Loki. I hope to see more of him in the future. I just have a tough time finding their friendship all that believable.

This would not be the only relationship in the show that happened too fast that we were forced to just buy, which leads me to Sylvie.

She’s the variant that the TVA had been hunting, that Mobius recruited Loki to help capture. And while I normally hate it when people ascribe a certain label onto a new female character because reasons (ones that are usually misogynistic), I think it fits rather well in Sylvie’s case.

Enter The Mary Sue

Mary Sue is a term that gets thrown around a lot. To sum up the meaning in very simple terms, it refers to a character who is too perfect to be believable. Mary Sues are often author-self inserts in fiction, they’re usually the love interest for at least one male hero and it’s usually the male hero the author will admit to having a crush on, their scenes usually are presented much more descriptively than those of the other characters, the story will revolve around them often at the expense of the development and plots for the other characters of the story, and they’re presented as beautiful, powerful, intelligent, beautiful, special, strong, beautiful, and desirable. Yes, beautiful is on the list more than once, and it’s deliberate.

The term comes from an old Star Trek parody fanfic, and while it is usually applied to original characters in fan fiction, the term has been used to describe characters in canon media as well. Some examples of characters who have been described as Mary Sues would include Bella from the Twilight books, Felicity from the show Arrow, Jaenelle Angelline from Anne Bishop’s The Black Jewel novels, Sookie Stackhouse from True Blood, Rey from the last Star Wars trilogy, and Jean Grey from the X-Men comics. Note I do not necessarily agree that those characters are Mary Sues, I have merely heard these characters referred to as Mary Sues, and when I look at them objectively I can kind of see where the accusations come from. Some other terms that can apply are Creator’s Pet and of course Author Self-Insert. Not all Mary Sues are Author Self-Inserts, but a lot of them are. Also, not all characters who can be labeled Mary Sues are female, though they often are. The male version of a Mary Sue is called a Marty Stu, and a couple of characters I’ve seen get ascribed that label include Harry Potter, Daemon Sadi from Anne Bishop’s The Black Jewel novels, Edward from Twilight, and Red Hulk from Marvel Comics. Even Batman and Wolverine haven’t been immune from the Marty Stu stamp, although you can argue that it does apply in their cases especially depending on who’s writing them. Sometimes it is painfully obvious they are author self-inserts...the aforementioned Bella is a good example. Others, you can only speculate on. And while there are theories going around that Sylvie is someone’s self-insert, we don’t have definitive proof of that.

There are good arguments, however, for her being labeled a Mary Sue and Creator’s Pet.

First are her powers. In the show we are told that Sylvie taught herself magic, especially her ability to “enchant”, the power to get into the minds of others and manipulate them. The fact that she taught herself would indicate that her education and skill in using magic should be lacking, right? She should not be as good as, say, someone who learned magic from his foster mother who herself was taught by Asgardian witches?

Yet in the show, Sylvie not only runs circles around Loki magically wise, she even teaches him a few tricks. This is startlingly in contrast to the comics. Loki’s Sylvie is partially based on the character Sylvie Lushton from the Young Avengers, a bad guy who was once a normal girl whom Loki imbued with powers before his death at the hands of the Sentry during the events of 2010’s Siege storyline. In the comics, Loki not only gave Sylvie her powers, but he was the one who taught her how to use them. Now, of course things in the MCU are not going to follow the way things are in the comics. MCU Loki is nowhere near as old as comics Loki and has so far not demonstrated the ability to give other beings powers. And MCU Sylvie is a composite of Sylvie Lushton and Lady Loki, which is also problematic, but we’ll get to that.

But the point is that Sylvie had no training. Her magic is some improvised slapped-together stuff that at best she picked up here and there and at worst she just pulled out of her ass. Now, knowing that, we’re supposed to buy that she can mop the floor magically wise with someone who was formally trained by a sorceress? And that furthermore, she can school him as well?

To make up for her lack of experience and knowledge, Loki is nerfed. Power wise and intellectually wise, he is nerfed. In Thor and Avengers Loki is smart, well-spoken, and a master manipulator. At one point he is able to turn all of the Avengers against one another, and while his magic has never been anywhere near the level it was at in the comics pre-Siege (after his resurrection, he was powered down and is currently nowhere near the powerhouse he had been prior to 2011) he was able to pull off some impressive displays of skill nonetheless. Shape shifting, illusion casting, it was a good repertoire.

In Episode 3, however...well, he does use teleportation to some impressive affect during his fight with Sylvie, but he still doesn’t get the upperhand. And he should. Loki is a better trained fighter, better trained in sorcery, and realistically should have at the least managed to incapacitate his variant. He doesn’t however, because the moment he meets Sylvie his IQ drops about 20 points. He falls easily for her tricks, makes laughable plans, gets drunk and draws too much attention when he knows that is a bad idea, and manages to get them both stuck on a moon that will soon be dust courtesy of the rogue planet about to crash into it. Loki has made some blunders in the various MCU movies he’s been in, mostly due to his own arrogance and tendency to underestimate his foes, but he’s not that stupid. In fact, in The Dark World he screams at Thor and calls him an idiot for drawing attention to themselves by hijacking an elven ship and crashing into every column and statue within a fifty-foot radius.

Where exactly is that smart, calculating, more careful Loki we know from the films? He’s been transformed and dumbed down, in an attempt to prop Sylvie up. It’s a tired trope, making the male character a dumbass in order to make the female character look good. Well, I should say male-presenting and female-presenting characters in this case, but their supposed gender fluidity really is not represented well and it’s completely contradicted later on, but we’ll get to that.

Anyway, making the male character stupid in order to make the female character look better by comparison is not empowering. It’s insulting. It implies that women are not smart or capable enough to meet men on equal footing, that the only way we can shine is not by virtue of our own strengths, but merely by making us look better than the men.

She doesn’t just outshine Loki intellectually and power wise, she outshines him period. The show from Episode 3 on becomes about Sylvie. She is the show’s main focus, and Loki? He’s relegated to the role of supporting character in the series that’s named after him. Supporting character, and love interest. From Episode 3 on, the show might as well be called Sylvie.

Now, some people will say that since Sylvie is a Loki, the show was indeed focusing on Loki. The problem is, the show is very inconsistent as to whether or not Sylvie really is a Loki or a different person entirely. I will explain more later, but the writers seem to change Sylvie’s identity to suit whatever narrative they want to present to the audience, including the pre-Pixar Disney romance they foist upon us.

The Romance, and why some find it gross

One major characteristic of the Mary Sue is that she always draws the romantic and sexual interest of the main male character, who may or may not be a Marty Stu himself. Oftentimes he’s not, and Loki does not fit the criteria of a Marty Stu by any stretch of the imagination. These romances always happen fast with little to no buildup. There is no what writers of romance call “slow burn”, it’s just throw Mary at the male character, hook them up, and get the audience to buy it. Basically, it’s reminiscent of the romance stories in the Classical Era Disney animated films. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella all fall madly in love with their princes within minutes of meeting them. There’s no getting to know each other, there is no preamble, there is no slow courtship, no real drama to speak of. It’s basically Love At First Sight or True Love. This trend continues even into the Disney Renaissance. In The Little Mermaid, Ariel is willing to make a deal with a witch to give up her fins for a prince she hasn’t even spoken to yet. He doesn’t even know she exists, and she leaves her home and family behind, gives up her voice, all for a mere shot at hooking up with him.

That’s not love, that’s lust. That’s hormones overruling your brain, and it’s an insulting trope, one that feminists have railed against for years. Disney has made a little progress. The movie Frozen took the mickey out of the Love At First Sight/True Love trope with the song “Love Is An Open Door” and the prince Anna wanting to marry turning out to be a major sleazebag who just wants to use her, but we still only have three Disney princesses (Elsa, Moana, and Merida) who have never had love interests and two (Anna and Rapunzel) whose love stories come close to being slow burns, out of 12 official Princesses. There’s still a long way to go, and boy is there a major step backwards in Loki.

In Episode 3, Loki fights Sylvie and they end up on Lamentis 1. Sylvie spends a good portion of the time insulting and trying to kill Loki, and Loki finds himself having to defend himself from her. That changes once they get on the train going to the Arc. After sneaking aboard the train using a disguise and a flimsy story, the two Lokis sit in a booth, where Loki proceeds to drink champagne. It is then that, out of nowhere, the conversation shifts from how Sylvie learned her powers to the topic of love.

Why? Why would you bring that up in conversation with someone who was doing her best to kill you a couple hours prior?

Then Loki makes things worse by asking Sylvie if she has a beau waiting for her. Why? It doesn’t make sense. The two of you are at each other’s throats, she’s done her best to kill you, neither of you trusts the other, and, completely out of left field, you decide to basically ask “So...are you single?”

Now, enemies to lovers is a trope that can work when done right. Typically, it’s a very subtle, slow progression that the audience witnesses over time in a novel, movie or television series. Weeks and even months will go by in the narrative during which the two people go from wanting each other dead to developing feelings for one another. There’s usually a “will they, won’t they period” that lasts for some time that’s full of teases and flirting before the couple does hook up and gives the audience the resolution. Done in this way, enemies to lovers can work.

This...this is not the right way to do enemies to lovers. Within a couple of hours Loki and Sylvie go from hatred and doing their damnedest to stabbing one another in the backs, to having a connection that causes a nexus event?

By the way, that nexus event makes no sense. In Episode 2, it is established that it is impossible to create a nexus event in an apocalypse. It is why Sylvie was able to avoid capture by the TVA for so long. In fact, just minutes prior to the two of them almost dying in Episode 4, Sylvie flat-out says that she figured out that she needed to hide in apocalypses because she discovered she didn’t create a nexus event when she hid in them.

Now the two of them are able to create a nexus event in the midst of an apocalypse? Why? Their “connection” isn’t going to lead to any consequences...they were about to die. No one else need never have known about the “moment” the two of them shared. It’s very confusing and the only purpose it really serves is to paint Loki and Sylvie as soulmates, which doesn’t make sense in the context of the show. The concept of soulmates is that for every person, there is someone out there they are predestined to be with. Loki is a show that, at the core of it, is about rejecting predestination and embracing free will. In that context, the idea of soulmates is ludicrous and contradictory to the message that we make our own destiny. This is why True Love is unrealistic, and I hate to break it to you romantics out there, but Love At First sight does not exist.

Infatuation At First Sight exists, but that is not Love, no matter what your hormones are telling you. Love takes time to evolve, and it takes work to maintain. It sure as hell doesn’t happen after less than 12 hours of knowing each other, during which a huge chunk of time was devoted to trying to manipulate, outsmart, and murder the person you’re supposedly in love with. No one falls in love in less than 12 hours, period, unless it’s a Classical Era Disney animated movie. They basically turned Loki into a big Disney Romance trope. I have a very hard time buying that Loki, who we have established is emotionally stunted and closed off, would form a love connection in just a few hours, especially with someone who was doing her best to murder him in that timespan.

That is not the only reason this relationship is problematic. The term “Selfcest” has been thrown around, and a lot of defenders of this particular ship claim that the term was very recently made up in social media for the sole purpose of badmouthing this particular romance. That is not the case. Selfcest is a term that has existed among fiction writers for years, it’s just that more people have recently become aware of it thanks to this show. The trope has been used and referred to in various works of fiction, especially in fantasy and science fiction where cloning, alternative universes, and magic occur. A lot of the insults I get from people who can’t stand that I don’t like the romance basically go along the lines of saying selfcest doesn’t exist. No, it doesn’t...in reality. But this isn’t reality, is it? It’s fiction. It’s a fictional world where such a thing could be possible, and even in works where it’s not possible it’s often alluded to.

In A Song Of Ice And Fire, we have the infamous twincest relationship going on between Cersei and Jamie Lannister, and it is heavily implied that sleeping with her brother is the closest that Cersei can get to banging herself and that is why she does it. Jamie is basically everything she feels she should have been and was denied due to being born a woman. In fact, in later books when he reunites with her after having been away from King’s Landing for over a year, during which time he’s grown a beard and shaved his head, Cersei no longer finds him as attractive since they no longer look as much alike.

And with advances in cloning, selfcest might be possible in the future. We already have sex robots, and people with money are capable of making those robots look like themselves. There is nothing stopping them from doing it.

Knowing all of this, the argument of “selfcest doesn’t exist!” falls flat. And it especially falls flat when you’re referring to a fictional universe where a large purple man once killed off half the population of said universe with a snap of his fingers, where scientists turn into giant green monsters, the Norse gods not only exist but regularly interact with people on Earth, and there’s such a thing as a Sorcerer Supreme.

As I have said, the show has been rather inconsistent in stating what exactly Sylvie’s identity is. One moment, we are told Sylvie is a Loki and that she and Loki are the same person. Mobius says it, Kang says it multiple times, Judge Renslayer says it, the director and the writers state it in interviews. But then in the next breath, they contradict it by saying that she’s not a Loki, she’s Sylvie and a different person.

You can’t have it both ways. Which is it? Either she’s a Loki, or she’s not. The narrative is very confusing and it changes depending on how they want us to see Sylvie, especially in relation to her romance with Loki. It’s so much easier to avoid the selfcest/incest accusations when you can say they are different people. But then they say they’re the same person. Make up your minds!

Since the show first established that Sylvie is a Loki, I’m going with that. Especially since we saw a bit of her backstory. She grew up in Asgard as a member of the royal family, which means she had Odin as a father, Frigga as mother, and Thor as brother. She may or may not have the same DNA as Loki. We never got confirmation either way, and there are people who argue that they don’t to which I have to ask: How do you know? The show never tells us! “Oh, well, there’s Alligator Loki, are you going to say he has the same DNA as well?” Well, we are never told how exactly Alligator Loki came to be. Is he actually an alligator, or is he Loki who somehow got permanently stuck when he shapeshifted? People tend to forget that he can do that. Ragnarok established that he can turn into a snake, and a deleted scene actually had the childhood story go that Loki turned into a rug to cover a hole in the ground and then dumped Thor into it. There is the scene where Doctor Strange drops Loki through a portal, and Thor is left poking at a business card, and it is clear that for a moment he thinks that Loki turned into that. We know Loki can shapeshift, so Alligator Loki can very well have the same DNA. We just don’t know, because the show never explains it for the same reason the show cut out the scenes with Throg fighting Loki...to devote more screentime to Sylki.

Even if they don’t have the same DNA, it’s still established that they are the same person, they have the same family, they’re both the God/dess of Mischief, and even Sylvie herself acknowledges that she is a Loki despite the fact that she changed her name. So selfcest very much applies here, and a good argument can be made that selfcest is the ultimate in incest...after all, there isn’t anyone else you’re more related to than yourself. It is very understandable, therefore, that a lot of people would be very, very uncomfortable with such a relationship. Having the same DNA would merely be the icing on the very gross cake.

Furthermore, just because selfcest does not exist in reality does not mean someone can’t find the concept distasteful. “It’s not real!” “It’s just fiction!” Yes, and people are allowed to have their own feelings and opinions on fiction. If they find the idea of selfcest hard to stomach, that’s their prerogative and you really have no right to tell them they are wrong for feeling that way. They should not have to justify to anyone why they feel that way either. No one owes you an explanation for why they find real world incest or cannibalism distasteful, so they don’t owe you an explanation for this.

“Well, of course Loki would fall for himself...he’s a narcissist!” Is he though? Is he really? Having dealt with my fair share of narcissists in my life, I have to wonder if the fans who say that, along with the writers, know what a narcissist really is.

Is Loki a narcissist?

Bringing up Cersei Lannister again, the novels she appears in establishes that she is an extreme narcissist. She sleeps with her twin brother because it’s the closest she can come to sleeping with herself, and she desires to do that because she is a narcissist. A narcissist is someone whose personality is defined by an inflated sense of self-importance, troubled relationships, lack of empathy for others, and an excessive deep-seated need for attention and admiration. It’s a very simplistic definition, and there are plenty of YouTube videos devoted to delving into narcissists into more depth, as well as videos on how to cope with the aftermath of abuse at the hands of narcissists. Narcissists are so devoted to themselves that they ignore the needs and the feelings of those in their lives, which often results in abusive behavior. There are entire support groups that exist for victims of narcissists.

At first glance, one can see why some might consider Loki a narcissist. He does engage in some pretty selfish behavior, he goes to great lengths to get attention, his relationships to his family are indeed fraught with drama, and he seems to have a pretty overinflated ego. He even goes so far as to write a play featuring himself as the central character, and build a giant golden statue of himself after taking over Asgard in the guise of Odin. But really, is his ego truly that big? Or he is overcompensating for his self-hatred and self-disgust?

Loki suffered quite the emotional blow when he found out his true heritage, a revelation that shook him to his very core. Of course, his relationship with his father suffered as a result...the man lied to him for his entire life. Their relationship really was not that great even before that since Odin found it easier to relate to Thor, who was more like him in personality, than to Loki, who was more cerebral and quieter. Loki’s relationship to Frigga fared much better. He’s quick to forgive her involvement in covering up the truth about his parentage, and it is obvious that they are close. Even his relationship with Thor prior to the events of the movie is not all that bad, the two brothers are affectionate and playful, and when Loki interrupts Thor’s coronation, it’s not just for the sake of creating trouble, but to postpone Thor taking the crown for another little while because he is not fit to rule. At the time Thor had yet to go through his character development arc on Earth and he was still an overly arrogant, bloodthirsty, elitist douchebag, so Loki really had a good point.

A true narcissist would have done what Loki did just for the sake of making life difficult for Thor. Also, he would have done it because he wanted the throne. Loki states repeatedly that he never wanted to rule. A true narcissist would have been all smiles about taking the throne instead of being reluctant about it as Loki was when Frigga handed him Gungnir.

Throughout the films, and in the first episode of the series, we see that Loki does indeed love his family and is capable of feeling guilt over the things that he does to them, intentionally or not. Narcissists typically don’t feel remorse. As far as they are concerned, they are perfect and can do no wrong, so they have nothing to feel bad about. If they hurt you, it’s because you deserved it. You shouldn’t have provoked their ire.

Loki feels bad for getting Frigga killed, and then later on Odin. Then he is in tears when Odin dies, and later at the mere thought of never seeing Thor again when the two brothers talk in an elevator on Sakaar. Those are not the actions of someone who is incapable of loving anyone but himself, as I’ve seen so many people claim about him. And the fact that he sacrificed himself to save his brother also kind of kills the whole “narcissist” narrative.

In Episode 1, Loki breaks down and confesses to Mobius that he doesn’t like hurting people. He does it because it’s part of the façade, and admits that he sees himself as weak. A few episodes later, he admits to a memory illusion Sif that he craves attention “because I’m a narcissist” and admits to being afraid of being alone. That is far more self-reflection than a typical narcissist is capable of in my experience. As I said, narcissists tend to think they are perfect. A true narcissist would never admit to having any flaws, and sure as hell would never admit that they are a narcissist. As far as the true narcissist is concerned, if you find them flawed in any way, that’s on you. The narcissist has no need for self-reflection because they honestly see nothing wrong with themselves, and believe that they don’t need to change...it’s everyone else who does.

A good real-life example from my past is a former friend I’ll call D. D was a self-proclaimed brat who was quite proud of the fact that she could be difficult to be in a relationship with and tended to go through men like tissue paper. She was demanding, self-centered, extremely jealous, manipulative, and prone to wild mood swings. She could and did go from zero to insane at the drop of a hat. In the time I knew her, she left a string of burnt guys behind, and according to her it was because they just weren’t man enough to handle her. She also left behind a string of broken former friends, to the point where there really needed to be a support group for former friends of D who suddenly had her turn them into Public Enemy Number 1 when they either started taking attention away from D, or...well, that was it really. As I said, she was a very jealous person and had a chronic need to be the center of attention, especially if there were men around. Anyway, instead of working on herself to become less self-involved, self-absorbed, and more empathetic, she double downed on her abrasiveness and constant need for attention until she finally wore the poor man down and he either ghosted her or outright dumped her. She never broke up with them, preferring to keep them around for as long as they were willing in order to toy with them as a cat does with a mouse. I tried to talk to her about her horrible behavior, but instead of taking my constructive criticism and maybe using it to make some needed changes, she completely turned on me and did her best to make my life hell until I finally cut her out of it. I learned two things: Narcissists don’t want help because they don’t feel they need it and they are never going to change as a result, and never, ever try to confront a narcissist. It’ll only end badly.

A more famous example? Former US President Donald Trump. I won’t get into that, because really all you need to do is perform a quick Google search to see what all he’s done and witness his narcissism on full display. But really, place him side by side with Loki. Do you see any similarities at all? Maybe on the surface, but when you go deeper...no. Loki is not a narcissist. He’s capable of deep self-reflection, owns his faults, is capable of loving others, and feels remorse. I would argue that anyone who says he is a narcissist, either does not know the character, or hasn’t ever actually dealt with a narcissist in real life, to which I can only say: Lucky you.

I honestly would argue that calling Loki a narcissist is actually doing a disservice to victims of abuse from actual narcissists.

What about Sylvie? Well, in contrast to Loki who does show remorse while Mobius is playing that “This Is Your Life” reel for him, Sylvie shows no remorse or regret. She knows that the TVA agents she kills are as much victims as she is. They are innocent variants who were kidnapped from Earth and forced to work for the TVA after having their memories wiped. She knows this, yet the first time we see her she burns a bunch of TVA agents alive, and she just stands there watching as they scream in agony. In the next episode she says right out that she’s “having some fun” while possessing the body of C-90 and murdering more agents. She is not at all sorry about doing what she did, and we’re supposed to be understanding since she was kidnapped as a child. Okay, but the entire TVA didn’t do that. The agents she kills didn’t personally kidnap her. The only one we see who was directly involved in that is Renslayer. Sylvie “did what she had to do”, fine. But she doesn’t feel bad about it, at all. The flashback to her as a child takes great pains to try to show us what a good person she is when she cries out “Help him!” as another prisoner is being beaten, but I guess she grew out of it.

We don’t know if Sylvie has any other narcissistic traits besides lack of remorse because, well, the show really doesn’t do much to show her personality. Other than killing people, trying to kill Loki, and then flirting with Loki, we just don’t really see much to her. It’s another trait of a Mary Sue. Mary Sues often have bland, one-dimensional personalities. After all, their only purpose is usually to serve as love interests for one or more male characters. Mary Sues break the “show, don’t tell” rule by having the other characters verbally inform us about their traits, usually while singing their praises, but we don’t actually see those traits in the Mary Sue herself.

Loki calls Sylvie “amazing”, but how amazing is she, really? She kills people she knows are victims, she endangers the timeline just to sneak into the TVA, and then she kills Kang despite knowing that there is a very good chance that doing so could unleash something far, far worse than him. Then again, it doesn’t have to make sense when you’re pushing an unwanted and unasked for romance on an audience who was expecting a scifi show, not a romance.

I have spoken in a few places about this. Romance is fine, but in a show that blatantly places itself in the scifi genre, it really should only be the background, not center stage. When I expressed this opinion, I got accused of being dismissive of an essential part of the human experience. Well, first of all, congratulations: You just invalidated the existence of people on the asexual and aromantic spectrums, not to mention people who are celibate by choice. Second, that is why we have the romance genre. To tell stories centered around romance. I like romance, I read romance novels, and I sometimes write romantic fiction. But there are some places where it just is not appropriate.

There are people who say that adding romance makes things more interesting. Nope, in those cases it’s just a smokescreen, something used to hide plot holes and distract us from just how empty the story really is. Writers like to say that if you need a romance to make things more interesting, then you really don’t have much of a story in the first place. And sadly, Loki does have some plot holes. The nexus event on Lamentis is a good example, and the romance is definitely used to distract us from that. People were so focused on “oh wow, they’re having a moment, they’re soulmates!” that they didn’t think “waitaminute...didn’t they say that nexus events can’t occur in apocalypses?”

We really did not need a romance in Loki. Period. It was unnecessary, it was distracting, a lot of people found it disturbing, and it actively hurt a marginalized group.

Loki Is A Queer Icon!...maybe

I am not going to say that the relationship between Loki and Sylvie is not a bisexual one. A bisexual relationship is a bisexual relationship regardless of whether or not the person the bisexual person is with is the opposite sex. Saying otherwise is biphobic. Biphobic people in both the straight and the queer communities have been excluding bisexual people who happen to be in opposite sex relationships for years because apparently one stops being bisexual once they get into a relationship with someone of the opposite sex. This is horseshit. I’ve been in relationships with CIS men, did I stop being attracted to other men, women, nonbinary, genderfluid, agender, and other genderqueer people? No. No, I didn’t, because while I was entangled, I was not dead. Heterosexual people don’t stop being attracted to other members of the opposite sex when they are in relationships, it’s no different with queer people.

So, stop saying that Loki and Sylvie are not a bisexual relationship. You’re not doing us any favors at all, and in fact you’re only helping the biphobes who want to kick us out of Pride and other queer spaces for daring to date members of the opposite sex.

I will address the “Bit of both” line however. In Episode 3, Loki has that response to Sylvie’s questioning about whether there had been any would-be princesses or princes in his life. Again, a conversation that comes out of nowhere. She stated outright that she didn’t trust him, clearly wanted him dead, and now she’s asking if he’s single. Whatever.

Anyway, people went nuts when Loki answered “A bit of both”. It was confirmation that Loki was bisexual, it was celebrated on social media...and it is really biphobic and Kate Herron, who is bisexual herself, really should have known better.

Biphobic people have long tried to sow division between the bi and trans communities (unsurprisingly, biphobia and transphobia tend to go hand-in-hand) by saying that the concept of being bisexual is transphobic. “Bi” means two, ergo bisexual people are only attracted to two genders, specifically CIS men and CIS women. It never occurs to anyone that the “two genders” a bisexual person could be attracted to could be, say, women (and yes, I include trans women in that, since they are in fact women, get over it) and non-binary people, or agender and gender-fluid people, it’s always CIS men and CIS women. This despite the fact that the definition of bisexual has been “attraction to more than one gender” since long before the Bisexual Manifesto was put out in 1990.

Some people have tried to remedy this by adopting the moniker of “pansexual” instead, which A) is basically reinforcing what biphobes are saying about bisexuals and creating even more division and B) doesn’t just mean “attraction to trans people as well, I’m not transphobic, I promise!” “Pansexual” is not interchangeable with “bisexual”. Pansexual is attraction to all genders. Bisexual means attraction to more than one gender, but not necessarily to all genders. You can have a bisexual person, for instance, who is attracted to all genders except for men. If you are attracted to more than one gender, but not to all genders, you are bisexual, and labeling yourself pansexual is lying and basically caving in to the biphobes.

I’m not trying to police what people call themselves...if you want to use the two terms interchangeably, if you want to call yourself bisexual, or pansexual, it’s fine. But just evaluate the reasons why. Are you calling yourself pansexual because you really think you can be, or are you just calling yourself that out of fear of being labeled transphobic? The latter, in my opinion, is not a really good reason, and it only helps deliver the biphobic message that bisexual people are transphobic.

So, by saying “a bit of both”, Loki is really helping to reinforce that biphobic assertion that bisexual people are attracted just to CIS men and CIS women. It’s disappointing, but it is Disney so I suppose that is the best we can expect for now. It just shows that Disney really has a long way to go.

What’s more problematic is the supposed genderfluid representation. Now, I am a CIS woman. As such, I feel unqualified to really say that the representation is shitty and fluidphobic. However, if I’m not qualified to say that it is, then Kate Herron and the writers are unqualified to say that it isn’t. Rule of thumb: If members of a marginalized group are telling you that you did a poor job of representing them and that you are being transphobic or fluidphobic, instead of ignoring and dismissing their concerns like a good portion of the population already does, it’s a really good idea to listen to what they are saying and learn how you can do better.

There have been some genderfluid and trans people who expressed that they liked the show, and good for them. But I have seen a lot of very valid criticisms and concerns from genderfluid and trans people about the representation on the show, and I think they really should be listened to. Kate, you and I are queer, but we are still CIS women. Ergo, we have no say in whether or not the way you attempted to present Loki’s gender fluidity is transphobic. If genderfluid people say it’s fluidphobic or trans people say it’s transphobic, then it is indeed fluidphobic/transphobic. To say otherwise is gaslighting a marginalized community who already faces gaslighting on a daily basis.

I will touch on a couple of things.

First, in Episode 5, Loki asks a bunch of his variants if they have ever encountered a female version of themselves, a question that is met with varying levels of incredulousness and even disgust. If Loki was truly genderfluid, this question wouldn’t have been asked. Genderfluid means the person shifts genders along the spectrum. Loki does this in the comics. Comicbook Loki switches between masculine and feminine presenting on the drop of a dime, especially in his current incarnation. Loki in the MCU we are told is also genderfluid, and should also be able to hop along the gender spectrum on a whim. There should not be a “female variant” therefore, since they are all the same gender. There could be a female presenting variant, but that is not the same thing. They would still be all genderfluid in that case. Also, Sylvie’s nexus event would not have been “being born the Goddess of Mischief”. Okay, the show never actually says that is the nexus event that led to her being arrested, but it heavily implies it. If Sylvie is a Loki, and as a Loki is genderfluid, her being the “Goddess” of Mischief should never have been an issue since they can change genders anyway.

Second, making Lady Loki a separate person is problematic. A lot of genderfluid people felt that this move invalidated their identity by basically showing that the same person cannot indeed be different genders along the spectrum. I don’t feel I’m totally qualified to really get into this. I will just say that if you’re going to write a genderfluid character, maybe at least get an actual genderfluid person to advise in the writing room.

Third, there is a transphobic movement called trans exclusionary radical feminism. You might have heard of it. Unfortunately, it is a very widespread movement that has done a lot of harm to the trans community, successfully blocking funding to organizations that help trans people, blocking laws that would benefit trans people, and the movement includes celebrities like Graham Linehan and JK Rowling.

One of the weapons they like to use against trans women is the concept of “autogynephilia”. It is basically the sexual fetish of becoming aroused from thinking of oneself as a woman. Many, many of these transphobic “feminists” love to say that trans women are merely men who have this particular sexual fetish.

It’s bullshit of course. Maybe there is a small segment of the male population that has that fetish, but trans women are not included in that. For trans women, things like dressing as women, changing their names, having state and federal issued IDs that say they are female, and being able to use the restrooms and change rooms that match the gender they actually are as opposed to the one they were assigned at birth is not a matter of sexual arousal. It’s a matter of making their external realities match their internal ones. It’s a matter of validation of their identities as women. Sexual gratification has nothing to do with it.

Now, Loki is not trans, but genderfluid people do tend to fall under the trans umbrella. We have Loki, a supposedly genderfluid individual and masculine presenting, falling head over heels in love with a feminine presenting version of himself. Maybe it’s just me, but it just seems like a form of autogynephilia to me.

Way to go, Kate...you just gave the TERFs more ammo.

One more note: At one point, Kate tweeted a list of the different Loki emojis, and “jokingly” included #FiretruckLoki with an emoji of a firetruck. Kate, you do realize that a “joke” transphobes love to harp on is that they can identify as an attack helicopter, right?

It’s his way of learning self-love!

That is not how you learn self-love.

First, the people who are making this argument often contradict themselves by then saying that Sylvie is a different person. Again, make up your minds. Either Sylvie is the same person as Loki, or she’s not. You can’t have it both ways, and you can’t continue to change the narrative to fit whatever it is you want to shove down the audience’s throats.

Second, romantic love and self-love are two different things entirely. Loki isn’t feeling self-love with Sylvie, he’s feeling romantic love. That’s not learning self-love. That's narcissism, and it’s character regression in his case. He’s supposed to be evolving past being a self-centered, egotistical shitweasel, and falling in love with a variant of himself makes him, as Mobius put it, “a seismic narcissist”. It’s not character development.

Third, this argument tends to come in the same breath as saying that Loki is a narcissist so of course he would fall for a variant of himself. If Loki is a narcissist though, why would he need to learn self-love? Narcissists already love themselves, that is the very definition of the word. If Loki needs to learn self-love, that would imply that he actually hates himself, which is the opposite of narcissism. Again, the writers and the fans who make these arguments when they feel the need to defend this relationship need to make up their minds. Either he’s a narcissist and therefore already loves himself too much, or he hates himself and needs to learn to love himself. It’s once again changing the narrative to fill a plothole.

Fourth, the whole learning self-love and trust narrative is completely thrown out the window in Episode 6 when Sylvie decides to toy with Loki’s emotions, using his feelings for her against him by kissing him as a distraction so she could grab Kang’s temp pad and toss Loki back to the TVA. To Sylvie, her revenge was more important than the bond she had with him. The move basically set Loki’s progress back several steps. What little progress he made anyway.

TL:DR, is there hope for Season 2?

Whew, this went on for a while, didn’t it? Told you I had a lot to say.

As I have said, if you liked the first season of Loki and think I am completely full of shit, that’s fine and it’s your prerogative. More power to you.

But, and this is a huge but, that does not give you the right to harass and bully people who did not like it.

I have witnessed horrible things from both sides of the now split Loki fandom on social media. Harassment and even death threats towards the creators. Telling people who don’t like the Loki and Sylvie relationship that they need to drink bleach. Homophobic attacks. Gatekeeping.

There’s constructive criticism and sharing your opinions, and then there is...this.

Both sides need to chill.

Anyway.

Even though Kate Herron has left the show, Michael Waldron is still the showrunner and as such I am not altogether optimistic for Season 2. I would like to see more emphasis on Loki himself for that season. Yes, it’s a novel thought, wanting a show that is called Loki to actually be about Loki, but here we are.

I would like to see actual character development in Loki rather than the old “true love transforms bad boy and conquers all” trope. There is a reason Disney has started to abandon that trope in their animated movies. They’ve been getting dragged about it for decades.

If Sylvie must return, there needs to be some actual consistency surrounding her character. The show needs to decide if she is a Loki or not and stick with whichever one they decide. And seriously, no more romance. Frankly, after what she pulled in Episode 6, I will be severely disappointed if the writers have Loki crawling back to her. That would make him pathetic, and Loki deserves better.

Really, Loki does not need a romance, period. He’s too emotionally immature, he has a lot of character growth to go through, and a romance would do nothing but be a distraction and an impediment to that growth. Anyone who got married too young can confirm that it is important to learn more about yourself and figure yourself out before you even think of getting involved with another person, who should not be your whole world. The Loki and Sylvie romance was reminding me of Classic Disney in another not-good way in that the two of them, especially on Loki’s side, were starting to revolve around one another and that does not make for a healthy relationship. Again, turning Loki into a Disney Prince (or, seeing as how he’s supposed to be genderfluid, Princess). Stop it.

Again, the romance was a smokescreen. It was a distraction from just how thin the plot was. Please, for the love of G-d, give more focus to the actual plot.

Do some research and talk to some psychologists for healthy ways Loki can “learn self-love" and develop as a character. If Ragnarok Loki can do it without relying on a romance with a variant with himself, then surely TVA Loki can pull it off.

Speaking of talking to people, listen to the concerns of the trans and genderfluid fans. Listen, talk to them, maybe get a couple in the writer’s room. CIS people should not write genderfluid people, and this season is a good example of why.

Please remember that Loki is not an idiot. Yes, he has pulled some fast ones and hasn’t been the greatest planner, but he is not downright stupid like he was in season 1.

And...really that’s all I have. As I have said, this thesis really wasn’t about making suggestions to the creators because I seriously doubt they will ever even see this. This was more less me screaming into the void, venting because I was that upset about what I saw as character assassination happening to one of my favorite characters. Keeping all of this in was proving to be bad for my blood pressure.

I am attached to the character, have been for years. Loki is just one character in the MCU who I love, who I want to see done right. I had been looking forward to his solo series for a very long time, and the disappointment I felt was something that I just couldn’t keep in. I kept my mouth shut when they killed off Tony Stark for no reason other than that Ronnie Downey, Jr. didn't want to renew his contract. I didn’t say anything at the Russo Brothers’ “happy ending” for Steve Rogers, even though I feel it made no sense and is a massive plot hole.

What they did to Loki, however...I couldn’t keep silent.

#loki series negativity #anti sylki

12 notes · View notes

quillandink333 · 3 years

Text

Scarlet Carnations ~ Part III

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 2k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

The investigation was still underway a week or so later, still without even a semblance of a lead to go on, or at least not a favourable one. Auntie Purah still had yet to take the Slate into the lab as she’d promised, which was understandable. She was still in deep mourning, after all. I, however, still got up at six o’clock each and every day to make my way to the site, as if the murderer would one day just walk out into the open if I waited long enough.

Truth be told, despite my conscious efforts to suppress it, a part of me deep down was growing weary of one fruitless search after another. Most of the cases I’d led up to this one had been closed within a maximum three days. Admittedly I’d even begun to consider ways to dispose of the fatal evidence I’d been carrying with me since the start of all this. No one but Paya and I knew of its existence, and no one but us would ever have to. Besides, if these egregious felonies truly were the designs of the organization—which they had to be—there was no way I’d ever find any clues leading toward the perpetrator’s true identity, let alone that of their ever elusive boss.

And yet, every morning when I returned to the scene of the crime, with officers bustling about and those who remained of my family sitting quietly in another room, I was reminded of my ultimate purpose. It wasn’t a matter of being able or unable to catch my godmother’s killer. It was one of necessity. Letting them roam the streets as they pleased was not even a part of the equation. I hadn’t spent the better part of the last decade toiling away to reach my current level of authority as a detective investigator simply to throw it all away as soon as my will was tested. That wasn’t what Auntie Impa, nor what Mother, would’ve wanted. I had to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.

What happened next, however, would make my distress up until then seem almost laughable.

I was made aware of it via wire on one muggy afternoon at my office, when I’d decided to work on typewriting up some reports. I picked up the phone only to hear the wails of one distraught Auntie Purah on the other end.

“Zelda, it’s terrible!” she cried. “The Slate—Impa’s Slate—I’ve looked everywhere, and so have Paya and Symin and all the men here on duty, but I—it’s...we can’t—we haven’t...” The poor, old woman was hyperventilating, creating awful static noises through the speaker’s papery membrane.

“Auntie, it’s okay. Calm down,” I urged gently. “Take a few deep breaths.”

“Alright...” A few moments of silence went by before I heard her voice again. “Thank you, dear.”

“Not at all. Now, what were you saying about the Slate?”

“It’s been stolen.”

I froze, breath stagnant and eyes glued to the edge of my desk. “It’s—what?”

“Stolen,” she repeated, only deepening the pit forming in my stomach, from where my heart was now pounding. “Right out from under our noses. We’ve searched high and low for it, but there’s been no sign of it, or the thief.”

I had to reign in my voice before I’d start shouting at her. “H-How can you be sure it was stolen?” The vigilant Link’s eyes now bore into me with intensity from his place by the file cabinets.

“The lock on the safe,” blubbered my auntie, “the one in the study that it’s always kept in. You know the one?”

“Yes?”

“It was broken, and the safe was empty.”

“But...that’s impossible.”

“Precisely!” she cried, giving me a start. “I still haven’t the foggiest how they did it.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

With that, I hung up and prepared for immediate departure, my assistant just a few paces behind me. I had to see this for myself.

Surely enough, when we arrived, the safe’s lock was destroyed beyond repair, and there was nothing but dust to be found inside. Unsurprisingly, the thief had been careful to leave no fingerprints behind, just as the killer had been. For now, though, it was too soon to say for certain that the same individual was behind both crimes.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed the lock mechanism had been melted. My eyes widened. “That’s not something you see every day.” Constable Fyori crouched down beside me, then gave a similar reaction when he noticed the cause of my astonishment.

The thief had to have been someone with access to a welding torch or something along those lines. There certainly weren’t many who fit that description, save for the police. In fact, the whole reason they were issued out to a select few officers was for this very purpose, but situations requiring said officers to break locks such as this one using such extreme methods were few and far between. Nevertheless, the possibility stood.

It was for this reason that I finally gave in and decided to take up the case with the chief detective once we’d finished here. As always, Constable Fyori accompanied me thereto.

Chief Bosphoramus’ office was neither too grand nor too modest, not unlike my own, though it still clearly belonged to someone of high rank. It resided on the third floor of the three-storey building where my dear colleague and I made our livelihoods, boasting a broad view of the deceivingly peaceful streets below.

“It seems UC3680G662LL was the only officer on the scene who was equipped with a cutting torch,” relayed the old man, hunched over the records lain across his desk. “Unfortunately, however, he resigned just yesterday.”

I waited a number of seconds for him to follow up with something useful, but to no avail. “So...what? You’re saying we can’t go question him now? Because he ran away?”

He clasped his fingers together in front of him, looking at me like an elementary school principal. “That is what I am saying, yes.”

I wanted to growl like a bear as imitated by a child, but I held it in. “You do realize what this means, don’t you?” I scoffed. “No doubt he was a member of the organization sent to steal the Slate after killing its owner.”

“Now you listen here, Inspector.” The chief’s tone turned serious. I closed my mouth. “You of all people should know that not a single square inch of this town is safe. Not even this precinct.”

“Yes, but Sir, surely you agree that this entire case has ‘Yiga’ written all over—”

“Are you mad?!”

His thundering voice made Link and I jump. The room fell silent, the chief’s eyes flickering between the door and the open window behind him.

Then he rose from his seat to close the shutters. “Have you some sort of death wish?” he continued at an infinitesimal volume in comparison.

I bit my tongue, restraining the urge to retort with, “Whose fault is that?” for I knew I would only be spinning my wheels. There’d once been a saying in this city: “When one sheep leads the way, all the rest follow.” And Chief Detective Bosphoramus was a perfect reflection of this. Every last member of the force was the same. Weak-willed curs. Shirking from their sworn duties and hiding away behind their shields of specious ignorance.

But despite the virus of cowardice festering throughout the bureau, my partner’s lasting air of calm resignation reminded me that no one could truly blame those affected by it.

The power that the Yiga organization possessed over the town was beyond compare. Those on City Council were nothing more than their puppets, and likewise were the police. Fear and massacre were the whips they raised to drive us all into submission and to punish any and all who had the will remaining to fight. But the one group who’d dared to challenge their might, who’d stood tall ever in the face of their tyranny, had been my godmother’s company. Thanks to her intelligent mind and righteous heart, the people had been given access to technology that would keep them safe, to a degree, from crime, and little by little, the company had developed into a beacon of hope for the town and its inhabitants. Until now.

Now, that hope had been snuffed out, like it had never been anything more than a week and vulnerable candle flame, flickering faint against the darkness of obscurity, in the first place.

Later that evening, when my gaze happened upon the knife block sitting on my kitchen counter at home, my steps halted. The scars on my arms left over from my last couple of years in secondary school—the period in my life following the yet unexplained events that had taken away the one I’d cherished most—had only just begun to fade. Even so...

I shook my head, turning my back to the kitchen. But then, I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder once more. I recalled the rush of adrenaline that took hold each time my skin was breached by icy steel. It was true that letting my emotions control me would get me nowhere, but maybe...maybe just this once, I could at least do something to assuage them.

Then the image of the gaping, dark red hole running straight through Auntie Impa’s neck flashed before my eyes. I covered my mouth, quickly swallowing the bile rising up from the bottom of my throat. The idea slipped my mind that very instant.

It wasn’t until the following day’s investigation that a substantial piece of the puzzle finally revealed itself to me.

For it to have taken a whole two days to find wasn’t all that unbelievable. Even I had to admit, although my stepsister was a spineless, tattling suck-up who’d always received far more credit and affection than she was worth, no one could have imagined her ever turning criminal.

Even so, I was certain that what I discovered there in her bedroom went against the expectations of all. Upon my entering, a faint glow of teal and tangerine peaking through the floorboards caught my eye. I went to lift the plank doing such poor work of hiding the thing from sight. There it was, unscratched and in perfect working condition, its screen lighting up and displaying that dastardly riddle I’d been confronted with several days prior and still didn’t know the answer to.

Although the mystery of where it had disappeared to had been solved, its reason for being here of all places was still unclear. Why would Paya have gone to such lengths just to get her hands on the Slate? It was difficult to imagine there being any information contained therein that she would want so direly to be kept secret from the world. She and her grandmother had been close since before I’d become a part of their family as a six-year-old.

Then something hard and marble-sized went flying across the floor when struck by the pointed toe of my shoe. I gave chase, soon realizing what it was when it slowed to a halt just before the south-facing wall of the room:

A bullet.

I didn’t even need to perform a striation comparison; anyone could clearly see that it matched the one I’d pried out of my mother’s memorial shrine. Whatever blood might’ve been here at one point must have simply been wiped up, and she must have stolen Link’s revolver with whatever methods she’d used to steal the Slate. Without a doubt, this room was the true crime scene I’d sought after since day one of the investigation.

But even in the face of this victory, I could hear the voices of those who would oppose me ringing in my ears. “Paya’s the mastermind?” they jeered. “Isn’t that a bit far-fetched?” But at this point, this case had already pushed me far beyond the boundaries of my patience. I didn’t have a single damn left to give about how flawed my logic might or might not have been. All that mattered now was that I had a suspect, and so help me, if I was correct in my line of thinking as suggested by the evidence, this criminal would receive no mercy.

#my writing #fanfic #botw #zelink #botw zelink #zelink botw #link x zelda #zelda x link #botw link x zelda #botw zelda x link #zelink fanfic #zelink fic #zelink ff #zelda pov #detective au

20 notes · View notes

not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found (Sixteen)

Ughhhh Tissues Needed

Also Generic WS-typical warning for mentions of slightly torture-y things

MASTERLIST HERE

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

“Sir, could I remind you that use of this particular suit results in more wear on the arc reactor? With numbers pushing 70%, surely you don’t want to risk it?”

Tony called James from the suit as it blasted towards Washington D.C., ignoring the warning numbers on the screen as the arc reactor surged to maintain the suits demand for power and the projected poison levels in his blood climbed higher.

“Tony?”

Just hearing James’s voice made Tony’s resolve falter, and he was glad he’d programmed in the auto pilot for D.C. as the need to turn around and forget what he’d learned, forget about Project Resurrection and the Ghost Protocol climbed strangling up his throat.

“Hey.” he tried for bright, but was afraid it only came out miserable. “Why don’t you fly out to DC tonight? Have Pepper come with you in the jet. I have to get to a meeting that’s taken about three years to arrange, so I took a suit.”

“I can just wait till you get home again, sugar.” Happy called something in the background and James laughed and the sound almost killed Tony. “What sorta meeting was so important it took three years to set up?”

“Nothing you should worry about.” Tony lied. “But it would be fun to have dinner in D.C. or something, right? I’d like to see you tonight.”

James’s voice got soft, “Dunno how I feel about getting back into D.C. but I’d like to see you tonight too. You feeling better? Last night you were real tired.”

“I’m feeling better.” Tony promised and he’d never lied so much in his life. “Let me know when you guys land and I’ll send a car for you. See you soon?”

“See you real soon, sweet thing.”

********

From Rhodey: Pep says you’re in D.C.? If you aren’t sucking face with soldier boy, let’s get dinner.

From Tony: Only if it’s one of those giant steak eating places.

From Rhodey: Tones, last time we ate at one of those I threw up for three days.

From Tony: And you were gorgeous the entire time.

From Rhodey: I hate you

From Tony: Smooches!

It was so damn easy to lie over text message, maybe that was how Tony should handle every conversation from now until 100%.

It was warm out, but Tony still wore a long sleeve to hide the handcuff on his wrist that attached to the briefcase at his side. Eventually--if he had time-- he was going to tap the tech into a watch that would form into a gauntlet and then a suit from there but for now he had to carry the admittedly stylishly packaged armor at his side.

JARVIS was right, using the suit took more energy than the other ones simply because it assembled in place instead of using robotics to piece together around him, but it had been worth it to get to D.C. so quickly...

...and it would be worth it tonight if everything went right and he needed to leave. If everything fell into place the way it should, but the way Tony kept secretly hoping it wouldn’t, he would leave and not take anyone with him so the suit was perfect.

Perfectly like a prison he kept willingly locking himself into and wasn’t that a piece of poetry worthy of writing down or at the very least making into a tragic movie or maybe he could request it got put in his biography because there should be at least one true thing amidst all the crap they were going to write about Tony Stark.

At least one line should be truth, even if everything else was written by people who had never known him at all.

But he shouldn’t think about that. Not yet. Not at only seventy percent, he had another ten maybe fifteen percent before he had to think about a biography, right?

Right?

Christ, it was getting hard to think.

The SHIELD headquarters were ostentatious and ugly, an eyesore at the banks of the river and a clear warning to anyone who thought to look twice at the city and dare to take a shot. The Pentagon might house the dressed up generals who gave out orders, but SHIELD was the real power behind the United States Government right now.

The ugly building housed all the best minds, all the best weaponry, and spoke of a clearly visible statement Director Fury and Secretary Pierce had been less and less subtle about in the past few years-- Fuck. Off. America is done playing nice.

Not that Tony blamed them for being so blatantly bold. There was no need to be subtle when there was an actual legendary super soldier leading the charge to protect America’s interests both at home and abroad, right?

Tony and Fury met in a little cafe along the river, the eatery quiet and unobtrusive in a way that was meant to be as visibly invisible as possible. There was nothing particularly interesting about the staff or their uniforms, the menu didn’t boast anything that would garner extra attention, there was never a chalkboard out front with a gimmick or sale to draw pedestrians in to try a daily special.

It was the sort of cafe someone either went to as a habit, or never even noticed on their commute and it was exactly the sort of cafe where Nick Fury preferred to get his tuna melt sandwich.

“Well this is quaint and terrible.” Tony sat down across from Fury with suitcase settled between his feet and sunglasses firmly on his face. “What happened to high profile business meetings at steakhouses, or at the very least good greasy pizza? And are you eating a tuna melt? With a fork?”

“Contrary to what you might believe, my Ma didn’t raise a heathen.” Fury was a sight to behold in his trademark trench coat, intimidating eye patch and somehow more intimidating single eye, a napkin tucked neatly at his collar and a knife and fork held daintily to cut his sandwich into bite sized pieces. “And this isn’t as good as hers used to be, but it does just fine for our conversation today.”

“Alright then.” Tony motioned to the waiter, and pointed towards Fury’s plate. “Could I have the same thing please? Make mine with pickles.”

“You’re pushing it.” Fury warned. “You don’t disrespect a sandwich by putting pickles on it.”

“Ma’am, would you make that extra pickles please?”

“Damn you, Stark.”

“Don’t tell me how to eat a sandwich and I won’t tell you to not do all of--” Tony made a vague motion to encompass all of Fury’s look. “--all of this. You look like the Grim Reaper.”

“And you look like a man the Grim Reaper isn’t too far from visiting.” Fury stabbed his fork at Tony bluntly. “Lookin’ like chicken shit these days, Stark. What’s going on?”

“Nothing that matters.” Tony waved off the Director’s sarcastic concern. “I need to talk to you about two things and then we can move on.”

The Director made a ‘go ahead’ motion and went back to eating. Tony watched the knife and fork dissection of a perfectly respectable tuna melt for a moment and then stated, “I don’t trust Pierce. I went to his party a few weeks ago and got a real sketchy vibe from him.”

“Uh-huh.” Fury nodded. “And?”

“And since you have the whole all seeing eye thing going on, I thought you’d want to know.” Tony smiled up at the waitress when she brought him the sandwich, and with eyes firmly on Fury, took a huge bite and crunched deliberately through the pickles. “How do you feel about him lately?”

“I feel like the world’s most reckless billionaire should be more concerned about the effects all that poisoning is having on your complexion and less about what those of us in trench coats are doing.” Fury wiped his mouth and pointed over his shoulder to someone Tony couldn’t see. “Brace yourself, Stark.”

“Brace myself for wha---OW!” Tony jumped when a needle jammed into his neck, delivered courtesy of one rather spandexy clad Natalie Rushman. “Christ! Natalie, what the fuck!?”

“I forgot you still think her name is Natalie.” Fury pushed his plate away and then dragged a chair over for the redhead. “Tony Stark, meet Natasha Romanov. Former KGB agent, former Russian Foreign Intelligence Service, former traitor to that particular country and defector to this one, and currently my favorite agent at SHIELD.”

Tony rubbed at his neck a few times and scowled at Fury, then over at Natalie/Natasha. “Former KGB? That was dismantled in ‘91, and you’re only twenty four. Nice try.”

“You do pass for a very convincing twenty four, Tasha.” Fury took a sip of his water. “In fact Mr. Stark, Natasha here is an absolute beauty at the ripe old age of--”

“--you tell him I’m a day over thirty and I’ll cut your tongue out.” Natasha said coolly, and Tony blanched but Fury didn’t so much as blink. “Tony, I just gave you a shot of lithium dioxide. It’s not going to solve anything with the palladium, but it’s going to temporarily slow down the effects so you can focus. I know you’ve been struggling with it for a while, there’s no other way to explain how scattered you’ve been.”

“First you stab me, then you insult me? You are fired.” Tony breathed in slow and purposeful, then out again when his headache started to ease thanks to the hypodermic hit to the neck. “Warn a fella before you shank him, is this foreplay to you scary spandex types?”

Natasha gave him one of those always consistently enigmatic smirks and Tony accused, “How’d you get here so fast? Pretty sure Pepper told me you two were shopping today. In fact, I’m pretty sure she took the jet to Vegas just to spend a gross amount of money.”

“The moment you hung up with Director Fury I excused myself from Ms. Potts and headed towards D.C from Vegas.” Natasha held up her hand to stop the next words from Tony. “And yes, I know there’s no civilian aircraft that could possibly get me to D.C. faster than your suit would, but you left an hour or so after me and also, as everyone is now aware, I am not a civilian.”

Still literally and figuratively wounded from the jab to the neck, Tony only huffed at the redhead and went back to eating because honestly, a new secretary turning out to be a secret spy wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened. At least she was on their side, right? Later Tony could get a little hysterical about having a former KGB agent helping him pick out ties, but for right now, he had other things on his mind.

“Alright then. Ms. Romanov. How do you feel about Secretary Pierce?”

“I don’t think that’s the question you’ve come to ask.” Natasha deflected, green eyes glittering curiously. “So ask the other one.”

“Okay I will.” Tony put his sandwich down and pleated the napkin between his fingers until it tore. “How long have the two of you known the hundred year old prisoner of war Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was camping out in my house in Malibu?”

“If it makes you feel any better?” Director Fury shrugged. “We just thought he was the Winter Soldier. Wasn’t one hundred percent on the Barnes angle until recently.”

“The Winter Soldier.” Tony repeated, and this time his mind snapped into place with out the stuttered click click click of trying to process. It was almost like being him again and even though Tony knew the lithium oxide was a poison all in itself, he was already wondering how many shots of it he could take to remain lucid up until the end. “Ghost assassin from the sixties and seventies, silver arm, once thought to be Steve Rogers risen from the ice and back to seek revenge. It was James, instead. Product of Hydra experimentation, amiright?”

“And then some.” Fury nodded. “When Project Resurrection came to be and the Captain woke up, he asked for his best pal Bucky and then his best gal Peggy in exactly that order. SHIELD had been aware of the Winter Soldier for decades, but we couldn’t have imagined the connection to the missing Sergeant Barnes. The Captain saw a surveillance photo, said he’d recognize that scowl anywhere, and went off half feral trying to track him down.”

“Half-feral.” Tony glanced between the two of them. “Captain America. Are you serious?”

“I spent almost two years at his side.” Natasha spoke up. “Half feral is an understatement. I’ve never seen a man so determined to burn the world down if it meant finding his friend.”

“Two years.” Fury echoed. “And then just over a year ago, a few months before Stane engineered your trip to Afghanistan, the Winter Soldier dropped off the map. Guess Hydra got tired of having their spots blown to shit or something like that, decided to cut their losses and run.”

Tony only blinked and Fury explained, “Turns out the Captain isn’t exactly the aw shucks good ol boy those posters made him out to be. Anything that stood in the way of finding his Bucky went up in flames, and the man didn’t care if anyone was left inside. On more than one occassion, Romanov went into the rubble herself because the Captain wouldn’t do it. It was a wasted effort though, there were never any survivors.”

Tony looked around and then lowered his voice. “Captain America let people die like that?”

“Not the aw shucks good ol boy we all thought.” The Director repeated. “Never seen a man so angry in my life when we lost the Soldier. Definitely never could have predicted you’d show up with him as your date at a few high profile event. I see a lot.” Fury pointed to his one good eye. “But even I didn’t see that coming.”

“Does the Captain know about James?”

“We thought it was best to feel out the situation and see if we were dealing with the Winter Soldier or if we were actually seeing Sergeant Barnes.” Fury hedged. “Wanted to be sure we weren’t going to walk into a situation with a still activated super assassin when from all appearances, he’s just a nice kid with some memory loss situations. Captain Rogers isn’t the sort to knock and ask to come in, he would have brought that fancy Malibu house of yours down into the ocean trying to get his friend.”

“That seems a little over the top, but--”

“--but you’ve never been seventy years out of your own time looking for the one person in the world who can understand what you’ve been through.” Natasha interrupted. “I’m telling you, there isn’t anything that would stop the Captain from trying to get to his Bucky.”

“His Bucky.” Tony echoed faintly. “Is that so?”

“I’ve been watching James for several weeks now.” Natasha’s voice dipped in sympathy when Tony’s face flickered with misery. I don’t think he remembers anything about his time as the Winter Soldier, but you’re closer to him. What do you think? Do you think he knows who he was?”

“No way.” Tony denied tiredly. “James doesn’t know anything. Not his last name, nothing about technology or recent history. He panicked about using too many eggs the other day and now that I know what I still can’t fucking believe I know... it makes sense. In some weird way, everything I know about James makes perfect sense now.”

“So Sergeant Barnes doesn’t remember anything before he showed up in D.C.?”

“Nothing at all.” Tony said adamantly. “He remembers waking up beneath a bridge and then everything’s a blur for a while and he’s not sure how much time passed. He thinks he lived a year in D.C. before meeting me, but he doesn’t know anything beyond that.”

“That could be for the best.” Natasha muttered, and Fury nodded.

“Well you can be sure we will be keeping an eye on the situation.” the waitress came by for the plates and Fury waited until she was gone before mentioning oh so casually, “I have something that belongs to you, by the way. Your dad left it in storage along with instructions to give it to you when you were ready.”

“I have everything I want of Howard’s and none of it’s worth anything at all.” Tony shook his head. “Forget about it, I want to meet the Captain.”

“You’re going to want this.” Fury countered, and pulled up a photo on his phone. “The real thing is about ten times heavier than anything I’d ever want to life, but take a look at it anyway.”

“I’ve seen this.” Tony barely glanced at the picture. “It’s Dad’s diorama model of the Stark Expo. I used to race my cars up and down the roads until he screamed at me to stop. Why would I want a giant piece of cardboard that holds so many shitty memories for me?”

“I don’t know why you want it.” Fury put his phone away again. “And I don’t know why Howard wanted you to have it. Something about how you’d see the design when no one else could, and how he wouldn’t ever have access to the tools necessary to make it a reality, but you’d probably be the one to invent the technology to make it happen.”

“That’s nice.” Tony pulled out a couple twenties and dropped them on the table to cover the bill. “Put it in the mail and I’ll open it when I get back to Malibu. I’m feeling normal for the first time since Afghanistan and I’m not going to waste it on some homework from beyond the grave. Take me to see the Captain.”

“He’s going to be cranky.” Fury tried one last time to stall the stubborn billionaire. “He doesn’t really sleep much, and since losing track of the Soldier, I don’t think he sleeps more than a few hours a week. Maybe you don’t show up as your patented brand of asshole, huh?”

“I do what I want.” Tony stood up and patted the Director on the shoulder. “I’ll see you and Mrs. Super Spy later on. We should talk about Pierce.”

“I know what you’re doing Stark.” Fury said then, and Tony paused. “You’re getting everything set up so when that poison kills you off, your boytoy is set with someone he knows and loves.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“I’d say it’s admirable, but really I think it’s cowardly.” Fury shrugged. “You’re doing all this without even trying to fight, without figuring out a way to beat it. Gonna sign ye olde master assassin over to the Man with a Plan and then jet off somewhere dramatic to die. Cowardly way out.”

“I’ve exhausted all my options.” Tony said flatly. “I’ve tried everything over and over and nothing works. Now my option is to make sure the people I care about can keep on going with out me. How is that cowardly?”

“This might shock you, but the world will keep turning without Tony Stark in it.” the Director retorted, and Tony shot back, “Yeah well, at least this way it keeps turning with my loved ones well taken care of. Send the address to my phone please, I’ve got a star spangled super soldier to meet.”

Natasha sent a text with directions to Tony’s phone, and after Tony had stalked out and hailed a cab, she turned to ask Fury, “Why does he want to talk about Pierce?”

“Don’t you worry about Pierce.”

“Director--”

“Ms. Romanoff, I am already dealing with Secretary Pierce. Don’t you worry.”

“Do you really think he’s being cowardly?”

“I think if Tony Stark wasn’t so tired of living in pain, he’d realize he could just invent something new to cure himself.” Fury stated. “I watched his dad create scientific miracles out of every day things. Watched his Auntie Peggy create unbreakable codes based on her knitting patterns. He’s been so obsessed with being Iron Man that he’s forgotten he’s Tony Stark. If anyone can fix what is literally killing them, its a Stark. Hell, he did it once in a cave with a box of scraps. He should damn well be able to do it in a state of the art lab.”

Natasha’s lips tipped up at the corner. “You like him.”

“I think he’s a spoiled brat with a small man complex.” Fury picked up the dessert menu. “But I think our world is a lot better off with him in it, so yeah. I’d appreciate if he didn't keel over and die.”

“You like him.”

“You’re pushing it, Romanov.”

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

It was fifteen minutes to a low rise apartment building, three flights up stairs and then down a long hallway until Tony could raise his hand and knock at the door of a piece of American history

Two knocks and then three more just because Tony was impatient even on his best days and today was not one of his best days.

Besides, when else would he have the chance annoy an actual living Smithsonian relic by knocking too many times at their--

“Can I help you?” The door swung open to Big and Blond and Patriotic, deep blue eyes and a square jaw, ruggedly handsome in a way that the old posters and pictures had never come close to capturing, and the sort of bulging All American Muscles that belonged on a Lumberjack’s Weekly pin up calendar.

Holy Spangles, Batman. Tony thought, and then grinned internally because that hit to the neck might have hurt but at least it had given him back Grade-A witty one liners. Thank you, Ms. Rushman-Romanov.

“Captain Steven Rogers.” he finally dragged his eyes away from the muscles and up to the piercing gaze. “It's nice to officially meet you. Name’s Tony Stark, long time fan, first time fanboy. How are you?”

“Tony Stark.” Captain Rogers extended a hand big enough to cover Tony’s entire face. “Howard’s boy, isn’t that right? Director Fury has mentioned you a few times. Figures you’d know about me being awake, though I’m a little surprised it took you this long to track me down. Howard wasn’t exactly the patient, subtle type and Fury made it seem like you inherited all those qualities as well.”

Tony blinked, and Captain Rogers grimaced. “Ah. Sorry. That came out worse than I intended. I’ve never been quite as charming as those old movies like to pretend I was.”

“No that’s--” Tony blinked again. “It’s fine. It’s actually a little hilarious-- um--”

“I was real sorry to hear about your parents passing.” The Captain’s blue eyes dimmed in sympathy. “I didn’t know your Ma, but despite me and Howard’s differences, we worked together for several years. He was a good man.”

“He was an asshole even on his best days.” Tony finally found his words, and offered a smile to his childhood nemesis hero. “But that doesn’t change the good work he did, so thanks. And yes, I inherited all of his less than charming traits and created a few more of my own which is why I’ve known about you and Project Resurrection for a few years now but just couldn't muster the interest to give a damn.”

“Any by the way, if you were a brunette, I’d be charming your pants off.” Tony winked because he couldn’t stop himself from flirting with an American icon. “But you’re blond, so consider yourself safe from my efforts. That and it’s hard to think sexy thoughts about the literal embodiment of the American flag.”

Good God, even the Captain’s laugh was patriotic, head thrown back and a hand over his heart like he was pledging allegiance to hilarity and Tony looked away to hide an answering grin. Shit, he didn’t want to like Steve Rogers, he had spent his entire life trying to measure up to the bastard, he didn’t want to be making friends when they had more important things to talk about.

“If it makes you feel any better?” Captain Rogers was still cheesing a grin. “Under all that patriotism I’m just a loudmouth Brooklyn kid with a big mouth and not a single shred of self preservation.”

“Eh.” Tony made a show of shrugging. “You’re still blond. I tend to prefer them brunette--”

--he hesitated, then pulled out the picture of he and James together at the redwoods. “--And smolderingly intense in a scary ex soldier sort of way. You know the type?”

All laughter fell away in an instant, the surprisingly easy conversation Tony hadn’t expected to find with Captain Rogers ground to a halt, the smile on the big blond’s face wiped away as quickly as it had appeared.

“I took that in the redwoods last week.” Tony actually took a step backwards when powerful shoulders squared up and one of those massive hands closed into a fist. “Me and James-- we’ve been living together the last couple months. Figured it’s high time you and he got together again, you know?”

“James.” The Captain’s throat jerked when he swallowed. “Not Bucky. He goes by James now?”

“James is the only name he knows.” Tony watched him carefully for any sign of what might be rage, but there was only heartbreak on the rugged features. “We’ve been looking for answers into his past, but it wasn’t until early this morning I came across a family link and traced it backwards. You can bet I was surprised as hell to find myself looking at a picture of you two when the facial recognition software finally pinged him.”

“I see.” The picture shook in the Captain’s fingers and nearly tore between his grip. “Mr. Stark--”

“Call me Tony.”

“Tony. I think you’d better come inside.”

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

The apartment housing the Greatest American Soldier was sparse to the point of being bare, clean to the point of being sterile, and warm enough that Tony broke into a sweat just walking through the door.

“Sheesh, Captain.” Tony undid a few buttons at his collar. “Tropical, much?”

“Sorry, I’ll turn it down.” The Captain really was massive, had to turn sideways to get down the narrow hall and to the thermometer. “I uh-- I’m always cold, you know?”

Tony waited with a raised eyebrow and Captain Rogers pursed his lips, shoved both hands into his pockets self consciously. “I did seventy years in the ice, Tony. That’s the sort of chill that gets into your bones. Into your soul. I’m always cold. Can’t seem to shake it.”

“I can fix that.” Tony spoke before thinking, the words eerily similar to his very first thought about James. Was it the super soldier thing that drove him to offer help? Or just the countdown and toxicity monitor and desperately tallying marks on the good karma side so maybe it would get him into heaven?

“I can fix that.” he said again. “I’d think a super soldier would run hot because of your metabolism, so the cold is probably psychosomatic and a weighted blanket or even a sweater with heavier threads might take care of it. People equate weight with warmth, and being covered with being safe so if you let me get some sizes I could have my AI run some programs and figure out a material that could--”

He stopped when the big blond just looked at him. “Sorry, Captain. I tend to ramble. Alot.”

“Call me Steve.” the Captain went for some water and handed a bottle to Tony, then sat down in a nearby chair and clasped his hands between his knees. “And you know, your Dad did that too? He’d get an idea and talk for an hour and you’d start the conversation not even knowing you needed the thing he ended up handing you when he was finished.”

“Sounds like Dad.” Tony agreed. “Guess I did inherit all his annoying habits.”

“You must get your looks from your Ma, then.” Steve said casually, and when Tony about fell out of his chair in surprise, he grinned. “Oh no, not for me. I mean sure, I can appreciate a good lookin’ fella just as much as the next guy, but I used to tell Buck if he got together with Howard--”

“I might actually throw up if you finish that sentence.”

“--then we could double date, but he said he’d sooner kiss Dugan.” he finished and Tony breathed out noisily in relief. “If he likes you, you must look like your Ma. Buck couldn’t hardly stand to be in the same room as Howard.”

And then almost awkwardly, “No offense meant.”

“None taken, most days I couldn’t handle it either.” Tony rolled the water bottle between his palms. “So um, how are you adjusting to life in the twenty first--”

“Tell me about Bucky.” Steve interrupted and Tony’s mouth clicked shut. “I wanna know everything. Where did you find him? How did you find him? Does he know who he is? Who I am? Does he know about--”

He clenched his jaw. “--does he remember being the Winter Soldier?”

“Captain.” Tony began slowly, but Steve cut him off again, “It’s just Steve, Tony. Captain Rogers, Captain America, that’s not who I am. I’m Steve. Call me Steve.”

“Steve.” he started again. “James--er, Bucky-- and I met a few months ago in a diner right here in D.C. I don’t know if you watch the news at all, but I was mid Senate meeting and mid nervous break down, apparently he was just there having breakfast. I saw he was missing an arm--”

“--his left arm?”

“--his left arm.” Tony nodded. “And since I have a weird assortment of various robotic arm pieces laying around the house, I told him I could build him a new one. I gave him a whole spiel about wanting to do some good and that he didn’t have to take me up on the offer but he told me--”

“--that you got a pretty smile.” Steve interjected. “Yeah, you’re just his type. Dark hair, pretty eyes, big smile. Just his type.”

The simple statement from the soldier warmed Tony clear down to his heart, and he ducked his head to hide a barely there flush. “Uh, anyway. He came home to Malibu with me and we’ve been there ever since. He’s getting better. No more panic attacks and his Brooklyn accent comes out more every day and um--”

It felt awkward talking to a total stranger about his boyfriend--partner? He was too old to call someone a boyfriend, right?

It felt more awkward talking to a total stranger that wasn’t really a total stranger considering how Tony knew everything everything about Steve Rogers and Howard had literally helped create the soldier. More awkward talking to a not-total stranger who actually knew James Bucky better than Tony could ever hope to. More awkward talking to a not-total stranger who knew Bucky better than Tony did and would be around at Bucky’s side after Tony--

--after Tony--

“--sometimes I think he’s remembering things, but then I don’t really know.” he finished lamely. “Captain, er Steve. I’ll be honest, it seems weird to tell you about your best friend. I can tell you that he doesn’t have nightmares anymore and that he hasn’t had a panic attack in weeks. He likes Rocky Road ice cream and looks great in the color red and when he calls me sweet thing I actually melt a little bit inside. What else do you want to know?”

“I just want to know if he’s okay.” Steve said softly, softly, spread his hands helplessly and made those All American baby blues as heartbreakingly earnest as possible. “Tony, I woke up from the ice and found a picture of the Winter Soldier and spent the next two years trying to figure out what the hell had happened to my best pal. How did he survive the fall? Who captured him? What have they been doing with him? To him?”

The Captain’s throat jerked when he swallowed. “Does he-- does he smile? Do you make him smile? Or is he real quiet now? Did they ruin him? Break him?”

Steve got to his feet to pace, rubbing his hands down his thighs in agitation. “I’ve read all the Winter Soldier files, Tony. I know what they did to him. You know they-- they didn’t do that stuff to me. Howard juiced me up and sent me out the door but Bucky? He was always a good soldier but there’s a lot of steps between a good soldier and a master assassin. What they did to him to make him into the Soldier…”

His steps stuttered, faltered, and when Steve turned around to pin Tony with a look, his jaw was set stubbornly. “Tell me how he really is. Did they break him? Is he even Bucky anymore?”

“I don’t know if he’s Bucky anymore.” Tony said slowly, honestly. “But I know he’s James, and he’s a good man. Not broken. Definitely hurt, but not broken. He’s-- I think he’s okay, Captain. Or at least he’s getting better.”

“Okay.” Steve dropped back down onto the chair and the springs groaned under his weight. “Okay okay okay. Have you done any research on the Winter Soldier? About what he did?”

“No.”

“Don’t.” That super soldier strength showed up when the arms of the chair splintered beneath Steve’s fingers. “Tony, for your own sake. Don’t. I haven’t read the mission files because it makes me sick to my stomach but I saw enough of what they did to him to know there can’t be anything good in the other ones.”

Tony’s whole body went cold, horror stricken and wanting to scream thinking about his soldier, his Brooklyn being hurt for however long he’d been captive as the Winter Soldier. “What they did to him?”

“Experiments.” Steve muttered hoarsely. “Testing his strength, his healing factor. Whatever super juice they gave him, they had to make sure it worked so they experimented. Broke major bones to time how long it took to heal up again. Put bullets close to major arteries wondering if he’d bleed out. Made him run until he was vomiting and couldn’t take another step to check his endurance.”

“Shit.”

“They wiped his mind after every mission.” the Captain continued miserably. “Got him to the point where all he could do was carry out orders. That’s not even human, they took his soul Tony. My best friend and they took his soul. Wiped it away every time they hooked him up to that damn chair--”

“Chair?”

“--it had straps.” Steve made a motion and Tony’s heart sank, then sank further still when he added, “I crashed a set up once and it was this monstrous chair. Straps and hooks and this helmet thing that went down over his head to fry his brain.”

“What--” Tony wet his lips, flashes of that first awful panic attack hitting him like a punch to the stomach. “-- What did you do to the chair?”

“Broke it apart with my bare hands and then snapped some bad guy’s femur just because I wasn’t done breaking things.” Steve said coldly, calmly. “I can’t read the mission files, not after seeing that. I don’t think you should read them either. Buck deserves to have people who look at him and don’t see everything he did as the Soldier. He deserves to be loved by people who just see him.”

“Yeah, I--” Tony dug his fingers into his knees and bit back a heartbroken noise. “Yeah, he does. So what did you do with the data? It can’t just be out there, that’s not--”

Even now, his brain was shifting into gear, trying to figure out the next step, trying to figure out what he could do to fix what had happened with James or how he could make sure it never came back to ruin his soldier’s new life. “--it can’t be out there for someone else to find. What did you do with it?”

“Natasha dumped it all.” The Captain informed him. “Burned it, erased it, whatever she does. I’m not really up on all the tech of this century yet. But she swore it was gone, and that’s all I care about.”

“You trust her?”

“...I do.” Steve’s smile was almost… melancholy. Almost lonely. “Most people wouldn’t, but she hasn’t lied to me once so I have no reason to think she would about this.”

“Alright.” It was a relief to know the Winter Soldier’s actions weren’t out there for anyone to find, a relief to know someone else was looking out for James the same way Tony wanted to. “That’s-- that’s good. If Captain America can trust her with that, I can trust her too.”

“Yeah.” Steve screwed his eyes shut tight and pushed out a long breath. “Tony um-- can I see him? Feels weird to ask permission to see my own best friend, but I think you know him better than I do at this point. Can I see him? Will you bring him back to D.C., or could I come with you to Malibu? I searched for him for so long, Tony. The canyon below the train-- I spent days there. Days in the snow trying to find him, and I spent the first years waking up trying to find him… can I see him?”

Quieter, almost afraid, “Do you think he’ll know me?”

“I don’t know.” Tony said honestly, and Steve’s shoulders hunched in like the words physically hurt. “But they should be landing here in D.C. in a few hours and I already sent him this address.”

“Seriously?” Steve’s head snapped up. “You would-- you didn’t even know me. You told him to come here when you hadn’t met me yet?”

“You’re Captain America.” Tony shrugged carelessly, shrugged like his heart wasn’t tearing in two right there in his chest as everything he’d feared started falling into place. This was the right decision but it hurt and his heart could have collapsed under the strain. “And he’s Sergeant Barnes. There’s no question you two should be spending time together, in fact, I’m probably just in the way. I’ll bring him in and as soon as I know James is okay, I’ll leave you in peace and let you get reacquainted.

“That’s amazing.” Steve lit up with a mega watt grin. “Tony, thank you. Thank you. You’re giving me a piece of my life back, I swear. I don’t even know where to begin to thank you.”

“Just...take care of him.”

“I promise I will.” the Captain swore. “I promise. I’ll help him readjust to life and we’ll figure out… I dunno. Netflix together? I’ll help him Tony, I will.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Tony tried for a smile that didn’t feel like it was crumbling at the edges. “Now. Are you a enough of a rebel to have a beer in this place while we wait? Or still too good ol’ boy for that?”

“Are you kidding?” Steve laughed again, and yep, Tony would have been seeing stars and stripes if he hadn’t been blinking back tears. “Good beer is the best part of this century! And I don’t get drunk, so I’ve been trying them all! Come on and pick one out!”

“Picking out a beer with Captain America.” Tony struggled to his feet with a hand over his chest and followed the blond to the tiny kitchen. “How could anyone pass that up?”

“Tony!” Steve sounded immeasurably lighter, the smile on his face evident in his voice as he called, “Does Bucky ever listen to music anymore? Have you ever heard of the Andrews Sisters? We heard them sing the night he shipped out for the war, this was his favorite song!”

Before Tony could object or protest or fall to his knees and beg for mercy because he didn’t think he could take another second of this self inflicted torture, the all too familiar beginning notes of ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy’ floated through the apartment and everything got worse.

“Me and Pegs used to dance to this.” Steve tossed Tony a beer he could only barely catch. “She made Buck dance too even though he didn’t have any interest in the other dames. She always said one day he’d find a fella to dance with too, have you guys danced together yet?”

“Once.” Tony said faintly. “Just uh-- just the once.”

He closed his eyes when the song got to the chorus, when the beat changed and he could almost feel James pulling him in closer like he’d done that night in the lab when everything changed between them.

“...just the once.”

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

“Hey babydoll.” James was confused when he finally made it up to the apartment door, confused and stiff when he bent to give Tony a kiss hello. “This is uh--” he cleared his throat. “Don’t like being back here, Tony. D.C. doesn’t have any good memories for me. I didn’t want to come.”

“I know.” Tony stood on his toes to chase one more kiss, gratified when James automatically wound an arm at his waist to hold him. “And I’m sorry but this is important, alright? What we’re doing here is important.”

“Important like the way Pepper’s fancy parties are important?” James teased halfheartedly, and tugged at Tony’s shirt sleeve. “Let’s get out of here. I’m a real big fan of the way you’ve blown off work the last few weeks to spend time with me, we should keep doing that.”

“James.” Tony tried for words and failed, squeezed at James’s fingers and tried again, “I’ve got someone you should meet. Re-meet. Someone you used to know and I think it’s important you see him again. I think he can fill in a lot more blanks, help you out a lot more than I can, alright?”

“I don’t want anyone helping me but you.” James glanced around the hallway, glanced at the door and out the far window, then back down at Tony, shoulders set uncomfortably tense and jaw clenched. “Tony, can we go? Something feels weird here, I don’t like it.”

“It will feel better in a few minutes.” Tony promised. “Just um-- be brave, Brooklyn. Okay?”

“Brave? Tony, I’m telling you this don’t feel right, I don’t want to be--”

Tony turned the knob and shoved the door open before James could finish the sentence, pushed the soldier through into the living room and then hung back to just watch.

Be brave, Brooklyn.

“Bucky.” Steve stood in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets and chin ducked like he was trying to look small, the unmistakable shield sat prominently on one of the chairs, that old picture of he and James from the Smithsonian propped up on the table.

“Holy shit.” The Captain choked out a strangled sort of laugh and freed his hands to run them both through his hair, tugging at the strands and then rubbing at his eyes as they filled with tears. “Bucky. It’s really you.”

James narrowed his eyes at the big blond, at the picture and at the shield, then looked back at Tony in confusion.

“Bucky? Who the hell is--”

Click click click.

“I had ‘em on the ropes.”

“Yeah Stevie, sure you did.”

Click click click.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

Click click click.

“You’re keeping the suit, right?

Click Click Click

“I’m with you to the end of the line.”

Click click click.

I know him.

Stevie.

“...Stevie?”

The Captain covered the room in two big steps and James met him in the middle for a bone crushing, desperate hug. James’s legs crumpled and Steve caught him halfway down, Captain America crying unashamed tears and swearing under his breath as he smoothed Jame’s hair back from his face to get a good look at him.

“Stevie?”

“Christ, Bucky I can’t believe I finally found you. I finally found you and I’m never gonna let anything happen to you again, I swear it. I swear it.” ----

--- Tony closed the door to the apartment and walked alone down the hallway, took the stairs up to the roof and stood for a long time looking over the city, over the monuments in the distance and the barest glimmer of blue from the river.

His phone rang and it was James but Tony ignored it so he could undo the latches on the briefcase suit and step into the boots, shivering as the armor climbed his body and encased him in cold metal before it warmed to his temperature.

His phone rang and it was James, and the picture on the screen was of them at the redwoods, the name beneath “Sergeant Barnes” because already James wasn’t James anymore, he was Sergeant Barnes, he was Bucky.

His phone rang and it was James and JARVIS intoned, “Sir, it’s Sergeant Barnes calling.”

“Send it to voicemail.” Tony whispered and the call shut down as the suit powered up.

“May I remind you sir that extended use of this suit specifically strains--”

“I remember.” Tony closed his eyes for a minute. “Send a message to Rhodey? Tell him I won’t make dinner tonight. He won’t be surprised, I’ve missed at least a hundred dinners. Call Pep and remind her that I owe her something expensive and sparkly and to pick out whatever she’d like.”

“...Yes sir.”

“JARVIS.” Tony’s chest tightened until he couldn’t breathe. “Enable Ghost Protocol.”

“Are you sure?”

“Just like we talked about.” Tony was shaking inside the suit, grateful for the exoskeleton that kept him on his feet. “I won’t let this be catastrophic and I-- I can’t watch while James realizes he doesn’t need me anymore. Start the process now.”

In the lab in Malibu, lights in the lab started to dim and the myriad of suits Tony had worked on for months drew back into the walls. The lock codes blinking on each panel changed from Tony’s preferences to ones coded to Honeybear, to Rhodey, to Sourpatch and Platypus, on and on the list went.

Computer screens flickered as dozens of letters went out to various charities and foundations, notifications of soon-to-be-arriving checks meant for specific projects that desperately needed funded. Signed paperwork irrevocably keeping Pepper as CEO and turning over any stock held by Tony Stark to her after a death certificate was produced was sent off to the proper compliance departments to make sure everything was legal.

A program was uploaded into Dum-E’s limited software that would allow the robot to function a bit safer and up it’s interaction levels to ones that would make the kiddos in the Children’s Wing at the Cancer Center smile and laugh whenever it rolled through the halls.

Back in Washington, JARVIS’s comforting monotone listed off each point of Ghost Protocol as it was engaged and completed, and the phone rang as Sergeant Barnes tried again and again and again.

“Send it to voicemail.” Tony whispered through a sheen of tears, and the call went silent as the Iron Man armor took off from the roof and soared into the darkening sky, punching through the atmosphere and heading for the stars.

This was the right decision.

Send it to voicemail.

73%

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

Chapter Notes:

Did you cry? I cried.

I love Steve in this verse. The “First Winteriron, then Steve comes Along” dynamic is something I’ve never written, and I’ve also never written Fresh from the Freezer Steve and I sort of love him??

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

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

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @justaniche @actual-demon-belial

@quietgayguy @bluedreamdino @akimi-youngblood @blackstar1602 @dixiehellcat @travellover1245 @capnstarkey @the-awkward-teenaged-one @thanossucks @peteryoulittleshit @tony-and-steeeb @striving-artist @roe-sesandthorns @coolsidedpillow @i-am-worth-it-25 @firelightmystic @maligatorthealigator @simsccsol @a-tardis-in-221b @happyendingrequired @everygoodoneistaken11 @pootie-and-the-snoots @megahuffledor @xkissmeimirishx @crystalskrull @hazelbeatsturtle @wecollectnightmares @endrega23 @saganarojanaolt @the-crazy-house @ravynfyre @yomama-umbridge @lovely--tony @gayspacesprinkles @elliotkaingrey @warmachinesocks @glitternotgold73

#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #natasha romanov #nick fury

83 notes · View notes

ofnifflersandkings · 4 years

Text

Purls of Wisdom

Character: Klaus Hargreeves

A/n: This is probably ooc as hell but goddamnit does this man just need a HUG okay??? i based it off this gif (that i poorly made, please be gentle I couldn’t find another one to use.)

•

You bursted through Klaus’ bedroom door, phone still in hand and coat already halfway off your shoulders, barely able to keep the breath in your lungs. “What’s wrong! Are you alright?”

Klaus only gave you a big smile when he saw you, waving as you blinked at the predicament he’d gotten himself into.

“I’ve decided to take up knitting!”

It was almost cartoonish really, his yarn had coiled itself around almost every inch of Klaus’ skinny frame. He held the one needle limply in his outstretched hand, dramatically wiggling it about to try and loosen his sorry excuse of a cast.

“Call me at the early hours of the morning for this?” You asked, shoving off your coat and leaning one knee onto his bed, taking a piece of blue yarn into your hands. “I thought it was something important.”

You tried to find the end of the yarn, but it was twisted and knotted in so many different directions you’d probably have an easier time getting Klaus to flush his pills down the drain.

Klaus dramatically huffed, throwing down his knitting needles and pouting like a child. “Am I not always important to you, (Y/n)?” He flicked a stray lump of yarn off his shoulder. “Well you can kiss your Christmas sweater goodbye.”

That got a laugh out of you, leaning back to observe the damage. “I think I have to cut you out, you’re pretty wound up in there”

He giggled at such an obnoxious volume you had to smack his shoulder and shush him. “Certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” He whispered, leaning forward to gently knock his forehead on yours. “You know, this is almost just like that one time with this guy in Milwaukee-“

“Hush!” You interrupted, raising your hand with a sigh, “I definitely do notneed an insight into your sex life…again.”

“Are you sure? I’ve had some real whoppers since I last saw you!”

You placed your hands over your ears. “Can’t hear you, walking away now!”

“Don’t leave me here!”

You gave him a glare, “I have to get scissors, dweeb.” You rolled your eyes when he enthusiastically gave you a thumbs up, promptly closing his bedroom door.

For as sporadic as the Hargreeves siblings were, the evenings time in the large mansion were always eerily quiet, you could wander about without running into anyone. You tried not to think about the reasoning behind it, knowing it would only upset you. Klaus had lamented about him and his siblings cruel upbringings, but it still never failed to make a knot form in the base of your tummy when you really gave it attention.

You shook your head and quickly slipped into the kitchen, scanning the cabinets till you found where they kept all the utensils.

When you pushed open his door, Klaus had just lit a cigarette and was leaning his head out of his window in a poor attempt to hide the smell from you.

You exhaled loudly and he jumped, opening his mouth to explain himself, but you gave him no time. You had the cigarette out of his hand and out onto the alley sidewalk at record speed.

“I told you that would happen if I caught you.”

He grumbled, flopping back onto his bed. “That was my last one too...”

You couldn’t stop your eye roll, picking up a piece of blue string and promptly cutting it in two, noticing Klaus constantly readjusting his place on the bed. “Sit still, if I snip you it’ll be your own fault.”

“Yes, Mom.” He droned, using the same tone he always used when he called you that, knowing it drove you nuts.

But you wouldn’t let him get under your skin, instead focusing on freeing him from his restraints.

“Wanna tell me what’s really going on?” You asked, finally pulling the last of the yarn off of him and into the little wastebasket by his bed, choosing to ignore the many small zip bags filling it.

“What do you mean? Picking up a granny hobby is how I always cope with the passing of a dearly departed family member…also just picking up grannies in general, honestly whatever shows up first.”

You stopped your snipping for a moment to tip his chin up with your hand, knowing it was harder for him to lie when you made him meet your gaze. “I’m being serious, Klaus.”

He took a deep inhale, and you could see how glassy his eyes looked. Not even his smudged eyeliner could hide his dark circles, he must’ve not been sleeping well again.

Klaus had always hated admitting how important the people around him were, he’d rather act like he was unaffected by everything than allow any kind of opportunity for him to get hurt.

You had always been the person he went to when he wanted to feel listened to, to feel like more than just some washed up junkie who wasn’t good for anything.

No matter how many times he relapsed, how many drunken phone calls as he slurred for you to pick him up or sit with him when he was going through withdrawals, you always showed up.

None of his siblings understood how you could have the patience you do with Klaus. They clearly cared about him, but none of them could boast being able to put up with him for anywhere near as long as you could.

You had this way of understanding him even in his most dazed states, considering you were always the one there when he was at the very worst of it, you really had no choice but to learn.

But you did it, and happily. You’d rather him be blackout drunk on your couch or calling you no matter the hour than somewhere on the street doing god knows what with god knows who.

Klaus lifted his head and looked at you again, knowing you’d be able to tell when he lied and call out any bullshit he’d try to use to cover up why he really phoned, you were just weird like that.

“Just wanted to see you is all. Things are usually easier when you’re around.”

You sighed, losing the battle of trying to remain cross with him. You gave him one last look over and placed your hands on his shoulders to give them a squeeze, reminding you he was there. “Guess I can’t scold at you for that, now can I?” You asked, slowly brushing back the small curls at the top of his head.

You turned and made yourself cozy on the small bed, holding your arms out and gesturing him to sit next to you.

He complied, snuggly fitting himself into your side as he watched you recoil what was left of the yarn and pick up his knitting needles.

“You really wanna learn?” You asked, your tone gentle and soft in a way that always made him feel at ease.

Klaus had leaned his head onto your shoulder, giving you an enthusiastic nod.

You smiled, looping the yarn around your fingers and creating a small slip knot. “This...was your first mistake.”

He chuckled, taking a deep inhale of your familiar scent, the closest thing he could conjure when he wanted to feel at home. “Maybe watching a video would’ve helped.”

You scoffed. “Nonsense, you don’t need videos when you have a knitting master right here.”

He reached his hand up to tap your nose. “Don’t tempt me, I might start calling you grandma too,” Klaus left your side only to stretch and yawn dramatically. “God knows I need the family influence.”

You laughed, finishing your cast and giving him small pointers along the way. “See? You just gotta keep it loose or it’s gonna get stuck on your needle.”

Klaus only gave you a low hum for a response, his eyes growing heavy at the sound of your voice and the soft methodical clicks on the needles as you progressed his knitting. You knew he wasn’t paying attention, but he’d stop fidgeting and his breathing was more even now so you really didn’t mind.

You turned your shoulder to see him drifting off, knowing that once his highs came down he was borderline catatonic. Instead you freed one hand to card your fingers through his hair again, and gave the tip of his nose a light tap.

“Tell you what, how about I make you a Christmas sweater instead?”

He smiled, eyes still closed as he snuggled into you. “Can it be ugly?”

“As tacky as you want.”

“Perfect.”

•

[Bonus!]

“By the way…” Klaus lifted his head from your shoulder, the deeply out of place and serious expression on his face was enough for you to stop stitching.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

He was silent for a beat, making your worry grow tenfold.

“Dweeb?”

You scoffed, pushing him off your body so you could go to stand. “That’s it, delete my number, never contact me again.”

He cackled, a deep kind of laugh that came from his belly, grabbing onto your waist and pulling you back into his side with a quick kiss to the top of your head. “You love me too much to leave!”

#I am so sorry about that gif for mobile users #last time I'll make one I promise but I needed this specific moment #in my head this read more platonic but I think it's open ended enough that you can interpret it pre-relationship too!#whatever suites your fancies #I really enjoyed how robert portrays klaus #highlight of the show for me #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves imagines #klaus hargreeves x reader #tua imagine #tua timagines #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #tua x reader

58 notes · View notes

sexyshakespeare · 3 years

Text

Ch 1: A Royal Birthday (Kuroken Royalty AU)

#sfw with some slight nudity cw for mention of some #violence #starving and #classism #poverty --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kuroo had practically lived in the palace all his life. He was born there. That was his biggest pride, something he boasted when he played with the baker and gardener’s children. He’d eaten out of the same jam pot that the royal prince had. Though of course he’d gotten beaten for it by the guard right afterwards, and every time he dared to play with the prince since. He still had the scars to show for it. But his highness insisted. The older he grew, the more he mandated that Kuroo be allowed to visit him in his chambers, eat with him, go horse riding with him. Kenma- he frowned and corrected Kuroo if he called him anything else, yes, Kenma had grown into a very prideful, powerful prince. He was a big man now, sitting in at all the tactical meetings with his parents. Kuroo on the other hand, had been inducted into the king’s army at a young age- he was just sixteen when he’d first seen battle. It was a horrible thing, he’d lost his training partners, his friends, too young and badly fed to survive something like that. But Kuroo. He was a fierce fighter, and he’d promised Kenma that he would come back with nothing more than a broken nose. Kenma had been relieved that his nose was in fact, very intact. His handsome face hadn’t been harmed in any way- but his arms had gashes, his body slashed in places that would not heal fast. But this had been his life. And a better life than he was used to. The army’s soldiers were treated with more respect than most- they had better food, and better living conditions. He’d been able to move his father to the palace as a helper in the kitchens again, despite his age. His mother had died from sickness years ago. Kenma had yet again insisted that Kuroo sleep in his bed that night, and had held him while his body shook with tears, harshly whispering promises to the heavens that he wouldn’t let his father go the same way. Today however, was not a day for recalling all of that. Today was the young prince’s 21st birthday. He wasn’t so young anymore- he would be seeing many eligible suitors today at his party- princes and princesses alike. And Kuroo was invited. Well, Kuroo was his personal bodyguard, he had to be there- but Kenma insisted that he was ‘invited’ and would be treated as a guest. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kuroo was waiting outside Kenma’s chamber, his daggers safely tucked away in his belt- and his strong arms crossed behind his back as he watched the corridor. He never, never took his post for granted, and he never, never slacked on the job. He even insisted on taste checking Kenma’s food for any hidden poisons. Nobody would harm Kenma on his watch, and if he harboured any suspicion, nobody could save the culprit from his wrath. It was more than just a post though. It was about him. His.. dare he say it, friend. Kuroo’s eyes softened as the thoughts flooded his mind- his lips curving ever so slightly at the corners. Every night sneakily spent in the royal bed, tickling Kenma, being fed cakes and having his mouth wiped by Kenma on his birthday, which was just a month after the prince’s, Kenma teaching him how to read. He wipes at the tears pooling in his eyes, and takes a breath- turning to look down the corridor again. Stupid, he shouldn’t be getting emotional at a time like this. The prince’s birthday was the perfect opportunity for rivals to try something to endanger his life. “Kuro?”, his beautiful, sun-kissed voice sounds from inside the doors. Kuroo jumps a little, knocking twice on the ornate wood, “Are you okay your highness?? Is your window locked?” “Oh geez I’m fine, relax will you-“, his beautiful voice with a hint of annoyance now, Kuroo laughs once awkwardly and turns back around, “Sorry..” “Come in please I need your help-“ The young man does as asked, gently pushing down the handle and passing through- closing the doors behind him and facing the other- but his jaw drops, his hand immediately raising to cover his eyes- “You- your highness you should’ve mentioned you’re not decent- I’m sor-“ “You’ve seen me like this before, cut that out, help me decide please-“, he speaks again, with authority. Kuroo slowly drops his hand- his eyes lifting from the gold embroidered carpet to his beautiful feet, his bare knees, up his bare thighs, skipping over the thin veil over his- his- “Well.. this one- or this one?”, Kenma holds two robes, one in each hand. The left was the color of the sky, with white sashes and ribbons, silver threads, and just a hint of yellow that would match his hair. He’d insisted on having it dyed in his 17th year. Kuroo had been so embarrassed, their conversation from the night before looming in his head. ‘The Princess that visited you last week was beautiful, don’t you want to meet her again Kenma..?’ ‘What was beautiful about her’, his haughty indignant voice- nothing was ever enough for this spoiled prince, Kuroo had thought at the time. ‘What wasn’t! Her hair’s the color of honey-‘ “K uro! We don’t have time for you to get lost in your daydreams right now”, his beautiful voice, teasing and mischievous. “I- I A M NOT DAY-dreaming”, he sputters, trying to keep his eyes off of his prince’s bare chest- the gold arm bands that glistened from his arms. “They’re both gorgeous, the one on the right is red and rich, heavy- it’ll send the right message, you’d look like a lion-“, Kuroo says with a smile, his eyes going over his collarbone, and then finally his face. His face. His eyes danced, they pierced him through and through, that was how he looked at him. And now his royal brow raises in a challenge, “I don’t care- which do /you/ like” Kuroo’s face colors, and he looks behind him at the doors wondering just how long it would take for someone to find them like this. He’d get flogged for sure- though his back was tough enough to take anything after what it had seen. But his heart thumps impatiently, pulling him towards his prince. Why did he ask him questions like this- “I.. like the other- the blue one..”, he admits now, his voice softened, his eyes even more so when they meet his pretty ones. The literal sun, shone through those eyes. Kenma always insisted that Kuroo had the same color eyes, but he was wrong, his were dull and hard. Kenma smiles at him, bright, and nods- tossing the other robe on the floor like it wasn’t worth 50 horses, which makes Kuroo’s eyes widen in reproach, even if it wasn’t his place. “S orry.. sorry, I’ll put this back in its place..”, the young monarch says suddenly, not letting the soldier speak, “I know you want to scold me for being a spoiled thing..”, he says yet again with a smile as he goes about putting the red robe back in his wardrobe. Kuroo watches him curiously in silence, smile playing on his lips. It really was a miracle, how he spoke to his own father, with contempt lining every word- and how he spoke to him. Kuroo directs his eyes back to the floor when Kenma dresses. “Did you want help- should I ask the maids to come-“ Kenma shakes his head gently, “They have enough on their plates with this ridiculous event-“ “It’s not ridiculous.. it’s for your-“ “Y e s my birthday, what a wondrous day I was born 21 years ago, and half the kingdom gets fed extra today while they practically starve the rest of the year”, his beautiful voice, with disdain dripping from it. He looks sad, his hands smoothing down the front of his garment. Kuroo smiles at him, a patient smile. And now, he speaks to him as his friend, moving closer and lifting his hands to cup his face. “You’re going to be brilliant today.. you worked hard on your speech.. one step closer to what you want to achieve” Kenma looks up at his very tall bodyguard, his king’s soldier, and his most treasured, most precious friend. “You think so..? I know they’re trying to get me to marry one of those rich brats” “You’re a rich brat- you’ll have a lot in common” That earns Kuroo a smack right across his chest- and excited giggles from both young men fills the room. “That princess you fancy will be here, maybe you should sit with her- I’m sure you can guard me with your hand up her skirt-“ “EHH?? MY HAND WILL BE ON MY DAGGER-“ Kenma laughs once, “Bet it will be..” A frown from Kuroo, who thinks this joke was getting rather old, and Kenma takes the hint to drop it. He shrugs his shoulders, reaching for the princely crown to place it atop his head, and looks at Kuroo, “You’re going to be dressed like that..?” “Kenma I’m your guard- I have to be dressed like this” “Oh right-“ “See, rich brat” The prince grins at him then, “See.. this is my friend.. not that ‘your highness may I kiss your feet’ man you have to pretend to be outside of here” He walks up to him then, and pats his cheek softly, dragging his hand down the front of his plain grey tunic- very form fitting on Kuroo, “Shall we..?” The other man nods at him, though he wishes secretly to never leave- to have his hand on his chest the rest of the evening. But that was selfish of him. He couldn’t keep him long. “Yes.. it’ll be over soon, please don’t spill your wine on anyone and blame it on your low tolerance to alcohol- you’re a horrible liar-“ “You remember his face last year? HA- stupid mustached basta-“ “Kenma..”

#kurokenweek2021 #kuroken #royalty au #kuroo #kenma #slight nudity #sfw #haikyuu #fanfic #hqfanfic

6 notes · View notes

uwuwriting · 3 years

Text

My OCs

Okay okay so these are my OCs, I’m sorry if their names aren’t really Japanese I googled most of their names back when I started creating them. I hope you enjoy them and well let's get started. I didn’t include Sky aka Shirakumos daughter even though technically she is one of my OCs, I felt that since I have introduced her in my fics *by name* I’ll leave her a rather blank slate for yall *I can describe her as well if yall want that though*. Hope you like them and yes some of the quirks were inspired by Avatar. Love ya💖💖💖

Kenushima Akane

Akane is in her mid 20s, her birthday is on 30th of December making her a Capricorn and is part of our favorite villain group, the LoV. She was the eldest child of two pro heroes who married because it would satisfy the media and boost their careers. She had two younger siblings, the twins Annya and Arakan. She is around 5’7 (170cm) with fairly long auburn hair which are always braided so they don’t get in her way, amber eyes and a burn mark on her right shoulder from a small scuffle with our favorite fire user. Her hair and eyes become a dark red when she uses her quirk making her even more menacing. She wears a black mask over her eyes, keeping that way her identity a secret and a rather tight uniform consisting of black leather overall-shorts matched with a black-red plaid shirt and thigh highs with black military boots. Her weapon of choice is anything you can swing. Her quirk is a powerful blood bending type which she inherited from her mothers’ side. She can control the blood in someones’ system to the point of a heart attack or a stroke. Once the blood is out of the persons’ system she can still wield it, sharpening it into a blade like shape and cut through both flesh and bone, the new blood adding to the power of her makeshift blade. Her limits begin when she gets a nose bleed followed by either her eyes or ears starting to bleed as well; the final stage is giving herself a heart attack but she has never reached that point thankfully. It’s a self-destructive quirk since she pushes her body’s boundaries everytime she activates it, making her vulnerable to diseases after a particularly hard fight. She is a master of many forms of martial arts, kicking anyone's ass without even having to use her quirk. Her family is wreck *lmao*. Since her parents married out of convenience the kids were results of moments of weakness between the two adults. Her household wasn’t very affectionate, partnered with her fathers’ constant absence and negligence and her mothers overly obsessive quirk demands, her relationships soon turned abusive. Excessive training and brutal punishments were her mothers’ tactics to ensure a picture perfect quirk state which she could boast about in the media. Her father was a decent figure during the sparse moments when he was actually in the house. He treated his kids with some trace of humanity and not like objects but he too didn’t really care. Everything went downhill when rumours of affairs surfaced and her mother lost her senses, killing their father on the kitchen floor before getting to the children. Akane tried to protect her siblings but was easily tossed aside by her mother and she doesn’t remember what actually happened that night. The only thing she knows for sure is that she was now an orphan and one sibling short, losing both her home and her brother that night. She didn’t stay in foster care for long since she dipped, joining a group of castaways called the Deck. Due to her quirk she was named the Queen of Hearts and became one of the most feared and powerful villains in Japan. Soon she joined the LoV after Shiggy approached her, officially meeting Dabi *who is her s/o btw lol*. She’s still close with her little sister Annya and owns a bookstore so she won’t have to steal. She has morals *shocker*, killing only those who have comitted crimes varying from abuse to murder or fraud. She is against useless killing and would prefer to clear the streets from scum rather than litter it with herself. She’s kinda like an anti-hero. She joined the LoV so she could have easier access to the insights of the hero industry and slowly help take out those hero frauds. She likes cooking Mexican food, her favorite animal is the fox and she is deathly afraid of spiders to the point she once burned her table using a lighter and hairspray because she had seen a spider on it. All in all she is a lovely person *I think*.

Kenushima Annya

Annya is 15 and part of class 1-A, her birthday is on the 3rd of January *like me heh* making her a Capricorn. She is the youngest of a twin set and has an older sister, while her parents were pros. She is around 5’7 (170cm) with shoulder length dark brown hair, amber eyes and faint lightning like scars scaling down both of her arms. Dark lavender streaks appear in her hair when she over uses her quirk and her scars shine the same color many times pulsating along with the surges of her blasts. Her uniform consists of a tight black crop top with azure and magenta details alongside black pants, black boots which are specially designed to give her extreme jumping power helping her also levitate for a short period so she can unleash her attacks and lastly gloves that cover almost all of her scars *also black with the same patterns as the top*. Has basic combat skills but she mostly prefers to rely on her quirk. Speaking of her quirk, she has a combo of a water and a lightning quirk making her able to easily electrocute others without short circuiting like Kami. She can control any form of water, making her easily overpowered in seaside missions but she can also control any liquid which has some water in it. However she cannot create water from thin air, like Shoto can make ice, and she can’t freeze it. Much like her sister she uses water mostly as a whip or a blade. Lightning is used mainly as one of her ultimate moves since she doesn’t have full control over it and it tends to hurt her scars when she does use it. She can let the purple strings of light course through her and hit her target with incredible force making her excellent for range attacks. Just like her sister she reaches her limits when her nose starts to bleed and she can pass out from dehydration due to her quirk using up some of the water inside of her body with each attack. Now for her family life. She was a late bloomer and that was unacceptable according to her mother. She didn’t showcase signs of having a quirk until the age of 9 when her mother attacked her and her siblings. In a fit of rage and despair her mother tried killing her for ruining the familys’ image with her quirklessness. Her twin brother tried to save her from her mother *just like Akane did* only to be tossed aside as well, hitting the back of his head on a nearby table. Seeing both of her siblings on the ground *and almost being choked to death by her abuser* Annya activated her quirk, losing complete control over her powers resulting in her scars and the death of her mother. Arakan was pronounced dead on arrival leaving the two girls the only surviving members of the Kenushima family. After Akane’s disappearance, Annya was moved from home to home for about a year before being adopted by a couple and living as much of a normal life as she could. Her mental health isn’t the best as one can imagine, suffering from PTSD from the incident and having self hating tendencies. Becoming a hero is her way of proving to herself that she’s not a monster and that she can indeed help others. In class 1-A she tends to hang out with the Dekusquad and two other girls who I’ll introduce down the line. Her hero name is Electra and her s/o is Shoto *lol siblings are dating siblings tf*. She likes Autumn and Winter, loves going ice skating, has many plants in her room and loves watching horror movies with her friends.

Aizawa Kaiya

Kaiya is 15 and part of class 1-A despite her father being the homeroom teacher. Her birthday is on the 19th of June making her a Gemini. She sports the legendary jet black hair, her hair is also pretty long so she always has to braid it or put it up in a ponytail and she has egirl bangs *I don’t know how else to describe them*. Her eyes are a striking azure and she has dyed the tips of her hair the same color. Ya girl is shorter than the Kenushimas, barely reaching 5’2 (160cm). Her hero costume consists of black cargo pants with multiple pockets, a black turtleneck and chest straps(?) around her waist and collarbone finishing the look with black military boots. Sometimes she might wear a gas mask which helps her control her breathing. Now for her quirk. It’s some type of psychic power, she can hear people’s thoughts making it easy for her to know what they are about to do, giving her the upper hand almost every time, but she can aslo channel her own and others thoughts and make dark shards out of them. These shards can be thrown with amazing speed or create a protective wall in front and above her. Her quirk ,though drains her very easily, making it hard to breath and walk in a straight line. She gets light headed while the voices inside her head get overly loud. Through practice she can push her boundaries and use more of her quirks’ power. Lastly in order for her to hear your thoughts she needs to see you. Once she sees you for even a quarter of a second, she can see into your head even long after you have left her line of sight. Her family life is very calm compared to the Kenushimas. She is the daughter of Aizawa’s sister who vanished when Kaiya was five. Having no one else to care for her since her real father wasn’t in the picture, Aizawa took his niece in and raised her as his own. She was too little to remember her mother and for years she believed that Shouta was her actual dad but Dadzawa did tell her the truth. Nothing really changed, she still calls him dad and they have a lovely father-daughter relationship. She loves Eri and loves being her older sister, playing with her, doing her hair and taking her to the dorms to meet her friends. She has a pet cat named Majesty who she uses to bribe Aizawa to buy snacks. She likes rainy days, beating Shinsou’s ass during training, being pinned by Shinsou while training, Halloween, cats and fluffy blankets. She is friends with mostly Annya, Shinsou and Sky but she doesn’t mind hanging out with the Deku or the Baku squads. Her hero name is Calypso. Her s/o is Shinsou much to Aizawa’s dismay. He is salty because this happened right under his nose, Dadzawa was too busy looking out for the 1-A boys that he completely ignored his trainee pinning his daughter down during training *he is really glad that she likes Shinsou bc he knows that he is a good kid*.

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @bemorefiction @dnarez @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @threeamwriting @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron @wolfkid22

#bnha #bnha oc #my oc #oc #since i cant draw #take these poorly written descriptions #im sorry #i tried #why are clothing so hard to write?#bnha x oc #dabi x oc #shoto x oc #todoroki x oc #shinsou x oc

16 notes · View notes

ultraglittercat · 4 years

Text

Drabble 127

Nature Walk

Varian was happily showing off his new invention to Rapunzel and Eugene. “And those snowshoes slip right on your boots, so you won't sink in a snow drift if you go traveling in a blizzard.” he explained.

“Why would anyone want to travel in a bliz- oh.” Eugene realized who he was talking to, and shut his mouth.

“They're very nice, Varian. I don't normally wear shoes, but for those I'd make an exception.” Rapunzel smiled.

“I also invented cross country skis! Wanna hear how those work?” he babbled.

“If it rhymes with 'freeze' I'm not interested. It's way too cold to do anything.” Eugene said.

“Lance and the girls don't agree with that. They just left on a nature walk, but if you hurry, you could join them, Varian. I'd come to, but Eugene and I are meeting with the delegates from Galcrest today.” Rapunzel informed him.

“That sounds pretty good! Dad and I love to explore the woods outside Old Corona. And maybe we'll find something good for you to eat, Ruddiger.” Varian petted his raccoon. Ruddiger, thrilled with both the prospects of food and a good petting from his owner, chittered happily.

“Would you like to take Pascal with you? I'm sure he'd enjoy that more than a diplomatic meeting.” Rapunzel said.

“Sure, hop aboard!” Varian beckoned to Pascal and the little chameleon climbed from Rapunzel's shoulder over to Varian's hand. Sometimes it was hard to believe Rapunzel and Pascal had once been Varian's sworn enemies, but the chameleon held no ill will towards the redeemed alchemist. Pascal had a kind and loving heart, just like Rapunzel.

“We'll bring you back something from the hike.” Varian promised.

“No snow of any kind! That belongs outside, and even there, I'm not too thrilled with it.” Eugene complained.

“Oh, Eugene.” Rapunzel laughed as her husband groaned.

Varian waved goodbye, and he and Ruddiger and Pascal set out to find Lance and the girls. The trail they'd left was pretty obvious, with Catalina's wolf tracks at the beginning of their hike, before she calmed down and shifted to her regular form. A hike was a good way for the girls to burn off excess energy, which now that Varian thought about it, was probably why his father had encouraged him to explore as a child.

“Hey guys!” Varian yelled as he saw the group ahead. “We came too! Rapunzel and Eugene couldn't get away from their meeting, so it's just us.” he explained.

“That's alright. We were just looking for things to build a snowman with.” Lance replied.

“Did you get carrots from the kitchens?” Varian asked.

“We did, but somebody already ate like 5 of them.” Catalina answered.

“Just because you girls don't eat your vegetables, doesn't mean the rest of us won't.” Lance countered. “Besides, they're good for you, helps with your eyesight.”

Kiera threw a snowball at Lance. “Bet you didn't see that coming, Dad!” she teased.

“That just means I'll have to eat more carrots.” Lance reached into his pocket and pulled out the final carrot he'd snagged from the kitchens. Both Kiera and Catalina looked disgusted and Varian laughed.

“How about pine cones? There's plenty of coniferous trees around here.” Varian suggested.

Kiera snorted. “You could just say 'evergreens' like a normal person.” but she liked his idea anyway and began looking for pine cones.

“I like to see if the trees are uninodal, producing just one whorl of branches each year from buds at the year's new shoots, or multinodal, producing two or more whorls of branches.” Varian explained.

“...leave it to you to ruin nature with science.” Kiera complained.

“Hey science is really helpful! Without it, we wouldn't know what foods are safe to eat.” Varian pointed out.

“Good argument.” Lance agreed, having just finished his carrots but still feeling a little hungry.

“There's some black walnuts over here. Hey Ruddiger, you want some?” Varian offered. The little raccoon waddled over and ate the walnuts out of Varian's hands. “You know, people can eat walnuts, too. They're really good roasted.” Varian added.

“That's all I need to hear!” Lance exclaimed, running up and grabbing a handful.

“Don't eat all of them, Dad! We need two for the snowman's eyes.” Catalina said.

“And I got a big pine cone we can use for the nose.” Kiera added.

“I'll get some branches, then.” Lance decided.

“I'm still looking for something Rapunzel would like. I promised I'd bring her something.” Varian recalled. Varian felt a little tug on his ear. It was Pascal, sitting on his shoulder and pointing up in a tree.

“Hey V! Look over there!” Kiera saw what Pascal was looking at: an abandoned bird's nest.

“That's perfect! Rapunzel would probably love to paint that, or weave part of it into a basket. But it's kinda high up...” Varian sighed wistfully.

“Leave it to me! My claws are great for climbing!” Catalina boasted as she shifted into a wolf. Her claws dug into the bark as she effortlessly shimmied up the tree.

“Careful with the nest.” Varian warned. But he didn't need to worry, Catalina climbed trees often and knew how to keep her balance even when holding something. She jumped down at the end and took a bow.

“That was awesome, Catalina!” Kiera cheered.

“Good job, Catalina.” Lance praised his daughter. “And nice cheering, Angry.” Lance always tried to be fair and compliment both girls regularly.

“Thanks a bunch.” Varian said.

“I guess if we've got everything we need, we can head back to the castle and build a snowman over there.” Lance suggested. Everyone nodded in agreement, and the group headed back.

Varian, Kiera, and Catalina rolled giant snowballs while Lance shoved some branches onto the snowman's middle to use as arms. The girls then added the walnut eyes and pine cone nose.

“Hey Varian. Can I see the bird's nest for a second?” Catalina asked.

“Sure. You were the one who got it down after all.” Varian said.

Catalina turned the nest upside down and placed it on the snowman's head. “Now it has short hair, just like Rapunzel.” she exclaimed.

“What's just like me?” Rapunzel asked, having offered to show the delegates around the castle as an excuse to get outside and see her friends.

“It's our snowman!” Catalina said proudly.

“It's very pretty. I thought our guests might like a tour of the grounds, I'm glad they got to see something nice.” Rapunzel replied. One of the delegates smiled, she had daughters at home around Catalina and Kiera's age.

“You can have the nest when the girls are done with it. I thought you might like it as a backdrop for your paintings.” Varian told her.

“Aw, that's so sweet.” Rapunzel smiled. Pascal waved at her and she bent down so he could climb into her arms.

“Is that a frog?” wondered a man from Galcrest.

“Eugene thought the same thing.” Rapunzel laughed. “But this is Pascal, a chameleon. He can change colors.” Pascal obediently changed from green to pink, matching Rapunzel's coat.

“So pretty!” squealed one of the female guests.

“We don't have anything like that in Galcrest!” said another guest.

“Pascal is very special, just like my friends. And my husband, even if he wouldn't come out in the snow and join us.” said Rapunzel. Everyone who knew Eugene laughed, it would take more than a little diplomacy to get him to play in winter.

The End

We hardly have any snow where I live now. But when I was a kid, we lived in Buffalo where it snows all the time and we used to make snowmen and do all those fun activities Eugene hates so much.

18 notes · View notes

lovemxnot · 4 years

Text

How to kill a dragon | Lee Minho

Genre: how to train your dragon!au, Vikings!au, enemies to lovers.

Pairings: Reader X Minho ft. 3racha & Hyunjin (if you squint).

Word count: 18.7k

Warnings: language, blood and gore, idk they're Vikings what would you expect.

Synopsis: It was your soul's mission to avoid Lee Minho at any cost, but life seemed to have other plans. A plan full of dragons, confusion, lots of tears, Minho, and newly found troubling feelings.

A/N: This will be a two-shot ( honestly just like two more parts and an epilogue left), ‘cause I'm dying over here and can't think of an ending, this has been sitting in my drafts for 4 months now, and I think its time to set it free.

umm, give me feedback? I’d love to hear what you have to say. Anything to motivate me to finish this story. or not, hope you enjoy it anyway !

Steam was still rising from your soup bowl, meaning you haven’t been sitting on the polished wooden bench here for that long. But time could not go any slower than a wagon pulled in mud whenever you were in the presence of the almighty Lee’s family.

All they did throughout the whole weekly-dinners you and your father had with them in the great hall was boast and brag about how powerful they are, how many dragons they’ve slain, how much dragon skin they have hung up on their walls as tapestry, and how many teeth they wore around their necks, one from each species they’ve killed, as a reminder to the townspeople of who they were.

They perceived themselves as royalty. No one actually liked them, but everyone bared with their bragging as they played a crucial role in keeping this land safe and in one piece.

Your spoon kept picking at the peas in your soup, glaring at them, hoping if you keep your head down and stare at your soup long enough, you might turn into one eventually and not have to sit through this agonizingly long Rendezvous.

You wished you could skip these dinners, but being the last and only descendant of the villages’ chief put you in a tight spot. The Lee’s were a compelling family, they kept the village safe for innumerable years, forming a long line of dragon slayers. So to refrain from rendering this town to ashes, your father made sure to always be on good terms with them; thus you have to sit next to your father on a weekly basis in the large hall placed up north the island, where the elite lived, and pretend you don't dream about having their heads on sticks.

Appetite nowhere in sight, you abandoned your soup in favor of playing with the mashed potato next to the rib meat dosed in a brown sauce, smashing it even more. The food looked delicious, props to the chef, but you lost your appetite whenever you were within a mile of their existence. Being their neighbor wasn’t that fun either. Not when you inevitably meet at least one of the Lee’s whenever you step a foot out of your house.

You were beginning to believe this dinner might actually end on a peaceful note this time, without food thrown at each other across the table. Until the pretty faced boy seated in front of you opened his mouth.

“Why so quiet, Y/N? Dragon got your tongue?” Lee Minho, the youngest and last of the Lee’s, teased.

Great, now any sign of you having a civil, quiet meal completely perished.

You glared at him, trying to keep composed and not fall into one of his tricks, you replied, “Having to stare at your face all evening makes me want to hurl.” Alright, so much for keeping your composure.

“Aw, I make you that nervous?” He grinned, mischievousness sparkling in his pretty brown eyes— you meant ugly, ugly mud brown eyes.

“Aw, you want me to shove my foot up your ass?” You taunted.

“Y/N.” your father warned, but you ignored him.

“If that's what you're into,” that made everyone on the table queasy. And made your cheeks burn.

“you're revolting.”

“Come on, princess, I know you like me.”

“ I’d much rather have myself hunted down by a night fury than fraternize with you .” It was infuriating how good looking he and his brothers were.

His oldest brother, the firstborn- Chan, was the only one with a cool-headed mind, he was notoriously known in the village for his strength but he never, not once bragged or acted out as the rest of his younger siblings.

You were even more agitated with the way your heartstrings tugged whenever you set eyes on Minho. But you never liked him. There was no reason behind that, no big fight over who got the last biscuit from the great hall buffets, or quarrels over who-said-what-about-who, and especially no arguments over who was the better Viking because you-along with the whole island- knew that both of you have never killed a dragon.

While 12-year-olds were out there with a dash in their slate, both you and Minho were known for being the most softhearted Vikings this town has seen in decades. It was no victorious title, especially not to Minho, the legacy of the Lee’s must continue on, and you understood how suffocating it must feel to have to bear the weight of the crown he was forced to wear since the day he took his first breath. And it’ll stay on his head till the day he takes his last.

You hated him because he was a stuck up prick that couldn’t stop himself from annoying the living daylights out of you. And as far as you know, he couldn’t stand you either, if the glares he always sent your way weren’t an indication of his hate than you don’t know what it is. But you had no idea why he hated you. You never did anything to him. His hostility originated from the pressure of being the black sheep of the house, but why he chose to take it out on you was a mystery.

“Be careful what you wish for.” Minho had the audacity to smirk, right where you had a steaming hot bowl of soup in your hands reach. Did he not learn from the last time he tried to test you? Was the slimy residue of the goat intestines that left his hair sticky and smelly for a week not enough of a warning of how hands-on you could get? He might need a reminder.

He was right though, Night furies were no joke. They are the most feared type of dragons. It only appears at night, never shows itself. It’s fast, stealthy, and never misses an aim. If it has its eyes on you, then you better pray to Odin to give you enough stamina to outrun it to a shelter, because other than that your chances of encountering a night fury and coming out alive are nigh to none.

It’s sporadic to see a night fury, much less kill one. No one knows how it looks like, and no one has ever caught or killed one. The only sign that one has come to hunt you is their screech and their unmistakable blue plasma fireballs that could burn anything to ashes upon contact.

You could say night furies were the most sought after dragon in the Lee’s, they want them as a trophy. If they could get that under their belts, then this town would not hear the end of it with how high their heads would be in the asses, proudly wearing it as a tophat.

While you were busy thinking of your comeback, You heard his parents and your father joking as always, saying how you two bickered like a married couple, and how perfect the both of you already played into your foreseeable future marriage.

This was another point that added fuel to your hatred. Your families always talked about how the both of you would eventually come around your little fights and marry each other.

With that said, you still would rather be eaten alive by a dragon than have to face the Lee’s for any second longer.

You opened your mouth to say exactly that, but the perusing pair of eyes that were set on you made you shut up. You turned your gaze from Minho's and caught his older brothers instead.

You’ve always admired Chan, he was calm and collected, unlike his baby brother. Fighting in front of him made you feel immature. You two don’t talk often, but you would have absolutely no problem if he were the one you would be betrothed to. He was a very sensible man.

You dropped your gaze back to your plate, letting go of the issue. Shame draped over your shoulders like a coat, you don't mean to pick fights with Minho, but his constant remarks always hit the nail on the head. He knew how to get on your nerves, and it irked you to no end that you give him the power to do so.

“So tomorrow is the big day, yeah?” Minho’s father cut into the pregnant air with his question, gathering everyone’s attention back to him, ignoring you twos previous bickering.

“Yes, the sea has cleared up enough for us to set sail.”

Seeing as it was getting hotter these days, sun heating up your armors, turning them into a portable fireplace, melting your skin. Seas turning back to their natural liquid state, your father and his soldiers were bound to go on to one of their semi-annual sea trips.

It completely slipped your mind. It was always around this time, where the adults of this town sailed out to explore the ambiguous sea, in hopes of finding where all these dragons were nesting, while the younglings stayed back for dragon training.

Dragon training.

You’ve managed to avoid joining training thus far, somehow explaining to your father how important it was for you to learn from the town's seamstress how to sew two pieces of leather skin together. But you had a feeling, not this time.

“ Is Commander Kim still the head trainer for this year's dragon training ?” Your father nodded, then said, “ speaking of dragon training, Y/N will be joining this year.”

That was news to you. You knew it was bound to happen, but knowing that he signed you up behind your back without consulting you first hurt.

“What?!” Your spoon clacked loudly against the plate, gathering everyone's attention.

“You heard me,” He said with finality. “ Minho will be there with you too. One of you might actually kill a dragon this time.” He added humorously as if that would make either of you feel any better. You would rather jump into an active volcano than have to stand next to one of them.

You saw Minho scowl at the mention of his name while everyone else at the table cackled.

“ I bet Y/N will kill one first.” Changbin, the second oldest son and the older twin of the lee pair, made the frown on Minho's face deepen. You could see he was trying to not burst, his hands curled to a fist, knuckles turning white.

Sympathy washed your disdain away, You always felt sorry for Minho whenever his brothers made fun of him. You were an only child and were handled as a relic, meant to be seen and not touched, behind compacted glass. You've never lived a life of sibling rivalry, it wasn't that you envied people with siblings but the thought of having someone to throw the blame on when you tear one of your father's maps seemed pleasant. You always thought blood is thicker than water but witnessing firsthand the unfortunate bulling of lee Minho made you think otherwise.

“ what’s she going to kill it with? Her crossbow?” The younger twin, Jisung, Snorted. You ignored him, both pairs of the twins were nut heads. Albeit good looking nut heads.

“But Father,” you tried to bring the conversation back onto you, letting Minho breath for a second, not that you cared about him, but because you would hate it if you were in his place “the seamstress finally managed to get velvet, she’s going to show me—“

“No more excuses!! this time you're going!” He slammed his fist into the table. He looked mad, you didn’t know the town folks shit-talking about his daughter being too weak to inherit this town bothered him that much. He must have reached his limit for him to slip and yell at his kin in front of other people. “ how can I pass this village down to you if you can’t even face a training dragon?!”

Ouch. That stung. It wasn’t like you wanted to become the next chief, you wanted to explore the world beyond your tiny island, study the plants and animals, experience life in general. But you were tied down by duties and responsibilities.

You were startled into tears, you’ve never felt this humiliated before. Getting yelled at in front of your archnemesis made tears threaten to fall from your eyes. Now you wished you had stared at your soup harder, those peas looked like they were having fun.

Picking up your crossbow from beside your leg, you stood up abruptly. Your soup could not rival the heat that was pooling in your cheeks, eyes glassy, lips pressed to a tight line. “I'll take my leave.” you rushed outside, ignoring your father's calls. Missing the solicitous stare that followed your figure out, his fists unclenching, chest filling up with both gratitude and pity.

II.

Pine green leaves on frail branches tickled your face every once in a while on your trek down the dirt road of the forest, strong winds -signs of an oncoming storm- kept bristling with your hair, braiding it into knots that had you dreading the thought of detangling it. Boots imprinting the unscathed pathway, Crossbow in hand, you shot at any object that moved. Not because you were scared. No, you loved the forest dearly, it was your second home. Whenever you felt stressed, you'd take walks here, or when you had free time you would come and study the plants and animals that habitat here. Which was more often than you'd think.

You wanted to blow off some steam and going to your house wasn’t an option as your father most probably will be there. Unkind words might be exchanged, and you didn't want your father to leave the next day and be gone for who knows how long with fighting as his last memory with his daughter. That's if he comes back this time.

On their last voyage, they came back two weeks later than they said they would. It sent the village into a state of panic with wives thinking they lost their men, kids orphaned, and most importantly - you thought you lost your last living parent, left alone to fend for yourself, forced to fill your father's place at the throne. Alas, it triggered your father into taking action, forcibly joining dragon training was the aftermath of the trepidation. If something were to happen to him you had to be ready to take control. But when worse comes to worst, you weren’t sure you'd be able to breathe the air the same way you did before without grief numbing you, or look at the sun and think of anything except for the two parents you lost, their souls ever-burning as bright as the sun. Colors would all look dull to you, any positive emotions nonexistent in your period of depression. But it was your destiny, to lead these people into many more years to come.

It was well after midnight, dinner lasted as long as usual, but the night seemed young now that you weren’t tied to the bench. Not looking where you were going, You kicked the pebbles under your feet and shot another bolt to the inert tree to your right. Stars provided minimal light, filling the forest with an eerie darkness, you tuck your hair behind your ears every time mother nature played and whirled it into your face. The dark shadows of the night didn’t affect you, it wasn’t your enemy, and right now it gave you more comfort than anyone could, letting you be with your thoughts. You had the forest memorized like the minuscule cracks that sat on the ceiling of your room, concatenating as harsh, unforgiving winters pass by. You could walk through it blindfolded and still tell which tree was which. Which tree you and the apothecary’s son, Hyunjin, had carved both your initials on after a diffident kiss on one spring day, stashed under for shade from the beating rays.

It was nothing but a burst of curiosity, a quick touch of the lips and then a whole lot of laughter. You frequently drop by at his house now and help out with whatever concoction he is working on while you talked. You help scavenge some of the herbs they need for the medicine from the forest. In return, he listens to your whining about a particular reincarnation of the devil that won't stop pestering you until you rest 6 feet underground. It was a small price you had to pay for a great therapy session.

The forest was your safe ground. No one comes to it unless they needed something. Even so, they wouldn’t venture far into the woods like you do. It was the quietest part of the whole island. Some would think that living in the forest would make for a good hiding spot from measly dragons. That would be true if it weren't for the so-named Razorwing dragons. As its name convey, they have razor-sharp wings that could slice through any concrete object with ease and snack on you for breakfast, picking their teeth with your bones. Vikings are infamously known for their unwieldy stubbornness, and your people were no different, refusing to be chased off their island by some winged beasts, they'd die with their ego held high, soaring like a flag in the sky, or forever stay rolling in their graves.

You knew you were going to have to face training one way or another, but getting enrolled in it without your knowledge and being informed a day before the training begins wasn’t the way you would’ve liked it.

You were mad at yourself more than anyone else. Why couldn’t you just kill one? Why did you have to be so soft-hearted and feel bad whenever you see one laying on the ground, beheaded brutally, or crushed to bits by hammocks, and skinned raw. They were vicious animals, after all, stealing your livestock, burning the crops, killing people- be it children or adults. they didn't have mercy on you, so why should you?

A cold droplet of rain cut into your train of thought. You saw before you heard the rain start to pour down in-between the cracks of the thickly woven tree leaves.

It was dangerous being outside after sundown, dragons liked hunting in the darkness of the night. But it wasn’t the first time you sneaked out here without your fathers' knowledge. you’d often slip past him and his watchers to go venture out and saturate your curiosity.

You should head back, but you didn’t want to face your father, not after you stormed out on him. you will surely get a lecture and you were in no mood for that.

You took shelter under the last tree you shot, pulled the bolt out of its body and layed against it, rough tree bark rubbed against your palms, your eyes shut for a minute, listening to the heavy drops of rain slam down at an unhuman velocity, winds carrying them north towards the town.

As frightening as some people found storms to be, you felt the opposite. the rucks caused from the howling wind and thunder took your mind off of things. Dozing off on the sound, your shoulders dropped, chest lighter than earlier, feeling yourself get lifted as the rain washed over you. With one last deep breathe, you opened your eyes only for it lock with someone else’s.

Or should you say something else’s, for the viridescent hues of the snake slitted eyes peeking through the leaves on the tree facing you were no man's eyes. They were a dragons.

This jolted you awake faster than an ice bucket thrown in your face. Drowsiness nowhere to be seen, you tightly grip onto your only weapon but didn't lift a finger, you didn’t dare to breathe either, praying if you stay still enough it might forget you were there. The eyes didn’t move, didn’t blink, It was locked onto you. A strike of thunder lighted up the sky enough for you to see the leathery black skin of the beast in front of you.

You’ve spent hours upon hours reading every book about dragons your tiny excuse of a library had- every type, species, how they look, their tactics, pressure points- but this one looked nothing like the rest from the glimpse you caught. It didn’t fit any category. You weren’t sure what type of dragon it was, you’ve never seen this one, which struck you as odd. What was even weirder was how quiet it was. Dragons are impulsive and reckless. They don’t stop and stare.

Could it be… dare you say..a Night Fury?

The name itself sent another wave of panic throughout your body, unconsciously tightening your fingers around the crossbow. But if it was then why wasn’t it attacking you?

A sudden faint horn sound blared in the air, succeeding in catching the dragon's attention away from you, It turned its head towards it, interested as to what it was. But it was no surprise to you, you’ve heard this often. they were the warning sirens, meaning the village is under attack. This was your chance to run away, while it was distracted.

You didn’t waste a second, you shot a bolt in its direction before running as fast as your tired legs could run over the muddy ground. It was a miracle you didn’t trip with how uncoordinated you were, one hand pushing the branches out of your way while the other held onto you crossbow, head turning left and right trying to catch sight of the nightcrawler.

Oh why just why were you so unlucky, You were starting to regret not going home. Minho's voice rang in your ear “be careful what you wish for.” that damn lee, so what now he was a fortune-teller too?

You kept running and running but no human legs could ever beat the span of a dragon's wings, the dragon was on your tail. Your doubts of this being a night fury completely vanished when you heard the unmistakable sound of its screech as it got ready to shoot a fireball at you.

You luckily dodged it by hiding behind a tree and sent another bolt blindly behind you. You were nearing the middle of the forest, where trees were scarce, thinning out slowly as you reached near the town, which put you in clear sight for the beast stalking you.

You needed a plan, quick.

Yelling for help would surely go unnoticed as the village is already under attack right now, not to mention the roaring thunder and wind cackling every two seconds. You could try hiding, but there is no place here that the dragon won’t be able to reach. Damn Odin and thor your only option is to continue running and shooting your bolts in hopes that one might hurt it enough to leave you alone.

Thunder rumbled, snapping you back to reality. It was too quiet, what was the fury doing? Was it waiting for you to come out of hiding?

Your question was answered when you felt the tree you were leaning blast on fire, burning your hand and your backside with it. Your yelp of pain was drowned out by the screech it let out. This was no time to cry over burned skin, you griped you crossbow again, ignoring the searing pain you felt and peeked out enough for you to see the dragon dive-bombing towards you.

You took a running start before you shot your bolt high up in the sky were you barely saw a shadow moving in the dark midnight sky, you turned around before you could see if it hit it, but the pained roar it let out let you know.

Twirling back around in surprise, eyes wide, you saw it’s silhouette slowly descend, starlights guiding your eyes as the dragon failed to gain control of its wings. Trees hid its landing but the tremble of the ground made it known that it didn’t fall that far away.

You ran recklessly through the forest, not caring anymore if branches scratched your face,afraid that more of its kind will come. Your burns throbbed painfully but adrenaline and fear kept you going.

Emerging from the last line of trees, you saw what you already expected to see. Vikings in armors running around with swords and spiked clubs, chasing dragons, fires breaking out everywhere despite the heavy rain. But that could not beat the horror you just went through facing one of the deadliest dragons out there, and miraculously coming out of the encounter alive.

Blindly you push yourself between people in hopes of seeing a familiar face but the rough blow to your shoulders knocked you on your bum, sending a fresh wave of pain to your injuries.

You looked up to see an aggravated Minho peering at you from above.oh it couldn’t get any worse.

“Get out of my way dimwit,” he snarled but the look on your face snapped him out of his zone, he took notice of how charred your hand and clothes looked, fear swirling in your eyes. This wasn’t the first dragon attack that you have witnessed, so what had you so shaken?

“What's wrong?” You were too frightened to acknowledge that he was being nice to you for once. He seemed worried.

“N-n-night Fury– Chasing me— my crossbow — it fell ” you stuttered badly, trying to explain between breaths, but it was illegible. Your side burned more with each breath you took in. The grainy ground wasn't so kind on your palm, either.

“What? What are you saying?” his eyebrows furrowed, face scrunching in confusion. He couldn't hear over the sound of the downpour and the dragons roaring. He didn't seem irritated, he reached his hands to yours, trying to help you get back on your feet, but he touched your burns and you nearly blacked out from the pain.

Your wail surprised him, he kneeled down to you now, concern obviously showing on his face, he carefully grabbed your hand and turned it to see the scaly red skin. Raindrops mercilessly piercing it.

“Odin's beard Y/N, what did you do to your hand? Shove it down a dragon's throat?” He scolded, you slipped your hand back, not appreciating his condescending tone.

Determined to get up on your own, you tried to gather your balance back but failed to do so and stumbled forward, in return Minho’s hands reached for your Waist. Your eyes stung as much as your burns.

The pain was unbearable, you saw black dots dancing in your vision, how much more was life planing on humiliating you? First, you get yelled at in front of him and now your crying. You were contemplating on going back to the night fury and begging it to eat you up.

Lightheaded, you dropped your head on Minho's shoulder. shock was slowly leaving your system, exhaustion replacing it.

It was strange, you've never been this close to him. Hell, you could barely stand living next to him, but right now, right here, where you could hear his heartbeat thrum in your ear despite the mayhem around you, feel his breath stagger on your neck, smell the assortment of rain, sweat and his natural musk dripping off him, with his arms secured around you, you felt safe.

Minho would never tell a soul but he liked this, he liked how soft you were being with him, how reliant you were on him right now, how you fit in his arms. But he didn't like the scrunch that marred itself on your face. He would never confess it but he was out looking for you when he heard the sirens go off because he noticed you didn't go back home after your little outburst.

Without a word, he hauled you up, on hand under your knees the other warily yet rigidly dwelled somewhere near your bosom. You were too far out of it to scold him for touching you, and he was too strung out over you to let his mind wander far away.

Clouds roamed your vision, you fought to stay awake- you had to stay awake, you had to tell your father what happened, but the pull of unconsciousness was too strong.

III.

coarse cotton creasing under your skin woke you up. you don't recall your bed cloaked in such rough covers, but then again you don't recall going back home at all. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness of daylight, a quick scan of your surroundings deemed this was the apothecary's house. There was no roaring outside so that had to mean the attack was over with, the sun was just starting to rise, peaking beyond the horizon, golden rays slipping through the window. The rain dwindled to nothing and the town was in post-war mode.

You sat up confused. Your mind was hazy, the last thing you remember was bumping into Minho before passing out. Embarrassment hit you like a brick wall, knocking the breath out of you when you remembered how you acted in front of him earlier. The Minho you know would have used that opportunity to tease you, but from what your foggy mind recalled, he was anything but earnest and caring.

You would say it was your imagination but the pulsating sensation in your hand and ribs beg to differ.

They were much better, your hand almost completely healed while your side that took most of the hit was a bearable pain. Whatever concoction the apothecary- or was it hyunjin? - used on you worked like magic.

You slid on your boots and stood up. Many were laying around on the beds around, no doubt victims of the invaders. You couldn’t stand seeing people like this, so you rushed out the door and jogged back to your house, not to mention you were in no mood to have hyunjin nag your ear off. Your father was bound to set sail soon, and you need to talk to him before he goes.

If you had actually killed-or caught- the dragon then that changes everything. And if the said dragon was a night fury too, then you would surely gain the respect you never had in the first place. Perhaps he might even change his mind about attending the training, which would save you the hassle of facing Minho daily.

The town was a wreck, houses caved in, sorrow hanging like a dark cloud in the air, town gloomy despite the sunny day. The days after an attack are always the worst, repairing houses, regrowing the crops, burying the dead.

you would have arrived at your residence faster if you weren't stopped every two seconds with town folks bombarding you with questions. You brushed them away with “Yes I'm fine”’s and claiming you had to catch your father before he sailed. They couldn't argue with that.

You finally reached the top of the hill that held your house when you caught sight of Minho stepping out of his own, tools in hand, no doubt on his way to help in construction. Despite how much you hated the lees, they really did a lot around town, but their boastful way of talking was what made you want to stuff breadsticks in your ears. Nobody likes a snob.

You froze in your track, normally you would either overlook his presence and avoid confronting him like he was the night fury himself, or you would bicker like cats and dogs until someone intervenes. But perhaps you could play nice for now and thank him for what he had done yesterday. After all, he saved your life. If you had passed out on the ground out there alone, you would've been an easy target for the dragons. A bullseye marked in neon red for hunters a mile away to spot. It bared on you that he was decent to you earlier, you had never, be it rarely, seen him this caring about anything disregarding himself. You were seeing him in a completely different light, and you didn't like the way it made your heart flutter.

He noticed you too and halted in his place, expression unreadable. Silence ensued, which was new to both of you. You didn't want to be the one to start the conversation. You didn't know which Minho you'd meet today. You caught his gaze grazing your form, precisely where he knew you were hurt. His cheeks tinted redder than usual when he knew he was caught, he looked the other way instantly and continued on his journey downhill. That was peculiar. Normally you were the one to ignore him and his petty attempts at a verbal combat, not him.

Before he could completely pass you, you reached for his arm “Hey Minho..” his expressions, yet again, were hard to read but you could only decrypt his body's stiffness upon contact of your hand as discomfort- Or was he flustered? His ears looked like they were about to let steam out- so you let it go.

“I just...wanted to thank you for yesterday.”

He looked up into your eyes, no cocky smirk on his face, no strut in his walk, and no stick shoved up his ass, he seemed...tolerable. He opened his mouth to say something but someone beat him to it.

“Y/N?”

Mr.swoon himself came up from behind Minho, whose face turned sour. You never saw chan pick on Minho before, if anything, he always ended the teasing, so why does Minho look as if he bit into raw meat? Meanwhile, chan’s face displayed obvious distress, over you.

“Are you alright? I heard you were hurt badly.” Chan stepped forward, looking at you worriedly. It made your heart divert from its normal pitter-patter, you felt your body shiver up with exhilaration with the attention he was paying you.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine now. It was nothing.” Relife brightened his face up, curling the corners of his lips in a smile that seldom sat on his face. He reached for your head, messing your hair up affectionately. you shrunk into yourself, your lips mirroring his. you liked the attention but the arrows Minho’s eyes were sending you were starting to get on your nerves.

“Yeah, brother, stop babying her. She can handle a little scratch, right?” he patronized. “oh wait, if I recall correctly, you passed out on me.”

And there he was ladies and gentlemen, the grade A asshole lee Minho you knew. Whatever happened a couple of hours ago must be a dream, because this Minho could never be that one, and to think you were beginning to believe that being around him won't be as suffocating anymore.

Why was he like this? his personality change gave you whiplash, he usually liked setting your nerves on fire or flirted like there was no tomorrow, sometimes even blurting borderline rude remarks, but this was straight-up jackass material.

Blood pooled in your head, you were lucky enough to escape from the grasps of the dragon with all limbs attached, yet he was mocking you for passing out from burns that fried you like a piece of meat. You scoffed, you didn't have time to deal with his identity crisis. So like the good ol’ times, you ignored Minho in favor off keeping your sanity intact.

“I need to catch my father before he goes, see you around?” you directed at chan. He noded and you were off, not a glance shared in the sullen boy's way.

The men sailed once the sun fully raised, and you were currently burning daylight. You prayed you could catch him before he goes, and it was heard. Your father stood in his gear talking to both commander Kim and Minho’s father outside your house. They seemed to be in a serious discussion, with how animated they all looked, but this couldn't wait.

“Father!” you called, successfully gaining his attention, “can I have a minute with you?”

“Y/N!” he held you close, eyes searching your body. Did everyone know about your little mishap yesterday? “What are you doing out? you should stay in with the healers” anger and concern were etched in his words.

“Father, I need to talk to you.” you urged.

“what about? I don't have much time” you noticed the curious stares from both Commander Kim and Lee. “In private,” you emphasized.

“Y/N, there's no time for that, whatever you need to say say it here.”

“No father, this is important.” you would never dare mention the night fury in front of the lees, you could already see the greed seeping out of their pores.

He saw how desperate you looked and dismissed both of the men before facing you. “Alright, one minute.”

You took a breath in. This is it. this would change everything.

”I caught a night fury.” You let out in one breath.

Surprise, confusion, bewilderment, that's what you wanted to see. Not the blank stare you got. His eyes held a note of disappointment, he thought you were bluffing and he wasn't having it.

“Y/N, your mother would be really disappointed in you right now.” an arrow to the heart would have been less painful, “ if this is your attempt at getting out of training-”

“What?! Father no, I mean it! when I ran out of the great hall I went to the forest and it started raining and at first, I wasn't sure if what I saw really was a night fury or not but it was! It burned me before I shot at it and it fell !”

He shook his head, disenchantment clear “You want me to believe that you, out of thousands of Vikings that died trying to slay it, caught one? Y/N you're worrying me. You might've hit your head yesterday too.”

“Father I swear, it was sitting there just staring at me! -”

“Dragons always go for the kill Y/N, they don't sit there staring at you.”

You should've expected this. Your proclaims sound far fetched, even to your own ears.

“Y/N, please just, for the sake of this island, promise me you will go to the training.”

“But father I really-”

“Promise me!” he cut you off, not listening to what you had to say. There was no use, he wasn’t going to belive you anyway, you had no proof on you right now and there was no time for you to drag him to the forest where the dragon may or may not still be. You dropped your head in defeat.

“I promise.” You let out begrudgingly.

The boats off far trumpeted out their horns, one last call before they sail into the unknown. Your Father dropped a kiss on your head. “I’ll be back,” he muttered his infamous last words.

You nodded your head but couldn't stare him in the face, defeated that your own blood didn't believe you. You should have expected this, why did you think differently in the first place? The timing was wrong. He thought you were making up excuses to bail on training, just a rowdy child defying their parents' order.

But his words lingered in your head.

Dragons always go for the kill, so why didn't it?

IV.

legends have it that in a cave by the edge of a lake, on a peninsula far far away, laid the gates that separate the mundane realm from the netherworld. But you believe you found one here, in front of you, in your islands forest.

It looked like a demon tried to climb its way out of hell. The usually packed dirt ground embedding rocks and other small plants was sunken, forming a sinkhole. Trees fallen around it, derogated from the soil, broken and carved into with claw marks. You were apprehensive, your father scoffing you off made you waver and doubt that anything that happened yesterday in the forest was anything but a figure of your imagination. But not anymore. Nothing but a dragon was strong enough to slice thousands of years old trees in half like they were twigs.

It must be somewhere near. You were going to prove your father and everyone that had underestimated you wrong. You were going to find that damn dragon, carve its heart out, and strut back to town with it held high up above your head When it felt nothing but downgrading to you, but if that’s what you had to do then so be it.

“ what’s she going to kill it with? Her crossbow?” you mimicked Jisung’s words in a high pitched voice as you followed the markings down the path, pushing a long branch out of your way, only for it to bounce back and slap you in the face, makeing you lose your balance.

your foot caught onto a rock and you plunged headfirst down the slope. A slope you hadn't known existed, barricaded by long abundant streaky vines and luscious shrubs. You held on to lose vines on your slid down, lessening your fall impact but it still hurt when your back met the grass-covered ground roughly.

You let out a wail as you body throbbed, but the second cry that reached your ears didn't come from you. You froze in your place, looking like a starfish out of sea-with your back to the ground, arms and legs spread out. That voice was too deep to be from your mankind.

Mutley, you turned your head around. And there it was, The nightcrawler, curled up on itself, midnight black leather skin shining under the gleaming rays of the sun. You couldn’t tell its head from its tail from the way it was huddled up under the shade of a tree a good distance away from you, and you weren't sure you wanted too. Maybe it wasn't such a bright idea to come search for it alone after all.

You’ve studied all types of dragons, but you've never seen one like this, hell no one has seen one like this. It intrigued you. you found your curiosity overpowering your greed of self-righteousness. Which wasn't much, to begin with.

Was it dead? But you definitely heard a groan, was there another one here?

Your inquiries were answered when you saw its tail flick out from under his wings.

Holy mother of Odin's overgrown beard it was still alive.

Okay, okay, everything's okay, it didn’t seem to notice you, deep in its slumber. if you quietly sneak to that boulder behind you without catching its attention, you might-

Crack.

So it seems you might have irrationally run to the arms of death, twice in less than 24 hours. Damn that twig, might as well just go and poke the damn dragon awake and yell in its ear “Hey I'm here!! Come eat me !!”.

The dragon slit one eye open at the sound. Its head finally peeking out from behind its wings. you must've woken it up from its deep daze when you slam-dunked the ground then gave out your whereabouts with the twig.

It didn't move and neither did you. This sent shivers down your back, you felt like you were standing under the same tree from yesterday, taking cover from the storm, The same eyes fixated on yours. The golden hues swirling in the green pool of its eyes charmed you, but they seemed off, muted, not as vibrant as you had first caught sight of them in between raindrops.

Once again, You didn't dare to breathe, afraid it might activate it into attacking. you tried to appease the shivers from shaking your body but to no effect. A grumble rumbled from its body. It obviously remembered you, and it didn't like you by the looks of it. It stood up on its legs And slowly neared you, with each step forward it took, you took one back until your back hit the designated rock you wanted to hide behind, a little too late now.

You should’ve brought someone with, maybe chan as he seemed to be the only trustworthy and capable person in this town that wouldn't dismiss your claims as an effort of escaping the training.

It took calculative steps forward, one of its wings spread to its full frighting span while the other laid close to his body, a mix of a pained howl and a growl slithered out of him. A piece of wood, one you knew too well as you crafted it yourself, caught your eyes as it jutted out of the wing hauled up to his body.

Bingo. So you did hit it, but you only managed to cut one of its wings, immobilizing it.

Balance was everything for flight. One tiny crack in the system and everything crashes. You wouldn't have guessed that such a feared dragon had such a weak spot. That was probably why it hunted at night. While other dragons had spikes, bumps or rough scales covering their bodies, it had nothing but sleek obsidian black leather skin which helped camouflage it in the darkness of the night.

Anyone in your place right now would feel elated at hitting a night fury, but the only thing that simmered in your chest was guilt. You did this to it, You took away it’s liberty.

Discreetly you tried to reach for the knife you had stashed in your belt but it was sharp, it caught your movement and growled warningly at your hands. You pulled them back up in surrender but the growling didn’t cease, its eyes didn't move from your belt. It felt threatened by it.

You again reached for the knife but this time held onto it and threw it away, far from the both of you. It was a daunting move but its growling stopped and it turned its slitted green eyes back to you. It studied you again for a long moment, then took a couple of more steps forward. You were beginning to regret throwing away your only defense mechanism.

But the dragon stopped a foot away, it just stood in silence, once again, for what felt like an eon before it laid down on the floor with a heavy thump, spreading its hurt wing, whining as it did.

You mentally cocked your head in confusion.

Was it..... was it asking for your help?

You were befuddled to say the least. You’ve been taught since your fetus days that dragons were ruthless animals, with an unquenchable thirst for blood. So why was there a dragon lying defenseless on the ground in front of you, whining like a kicked puppy?

It still had its eyes open, assessing your every breath. With a newfound surge of chivalry, you stepped forward and slowly reached until your fingertips grazed its injured wing, smooth scaly leather brushed past your tips verifying what you dreaded. It didn't retract. It really was asking for your help.

You were conflicted. You could easily attack it right now and win. You could prove everyone wrong. This was everything you needed, handed to you in a silver plate with a bow on top. But its eyes peered into yours, emotions whirling in them, mirroring yours. hurt, fear, desperation.

You made up your mind.

Before you could regret your decision and curse yourself to rot in hell, you reached for that part of the stick that stuck out of his wing and cautiously broke it off, so it was easier and less painful to pull the other side out. it surprisingly sat still, except for the little whines and heavy breaths it let out.

As soon as you freed it from the pain, it stood up on its feet again and pounced on you, Shoving you down to the ground, locking you in place, helpless and on your back. Oh, you were so dead. Oh dear god, you have been a good child so far, what did you do to deserve this? Was it your constant fights with Minho? But it was always him that initiated it, you were simply defending yourself!!

You closed your eyes, ready to feel your skin blast of your bones, but all you got was a deafening angry roar in your ears that left you deaf for the rest of the afternoon, then it was off you, trudging towards the pond near the other side of the slope.

It didn't kill you.

It didn’t kill you, and you didn't kill it. You had the opportunity to do it, but you didn't. It knew so yet still took the chance with you and once he saw you were willing to help, he let you go too.

Mayhaps It was all a big misunderstanding. Maybe dragons were fighting only as self-defense. Maybe it was us they were afraid of and not the other way around.

Shaken to the bone, you got up and sat against the rock behind you, eyes glued to the leathered fiend. Your mind felt like mush, thoughts overlapping but one thing was clear. Dragons weren't as dangerous as you have been made to think.

It didn't seem to mind you staying here, in fact, it ignored your presence as it tried catching the fish from the pond, only for it to give up after several fruitless attempts and whine while laying down on the ground, licking its open wound clean.

It would probably never be able to fly again. Your bolt ripped a big nasty gash through its wing.

Guilt sat heavily in the bottom of your stomach. You've never felt this shameful before. It felt horrible and you couldn't stand it, it was almost up to par with how you felt whenever someone reprehended you for your fights with Minho.

Picking up your neglected knife, you skipped to the other side of the pond as to not startle the dragon, and sat quietly by the brinks, studying the unsuspecting fish serenely swimming to and fro down below the clear water. You felt the dragons gaze curiously turn on to you. you kept yours on the aquatic organisms, waiting to strike them in the right moment.

Moments later drenched in droplets of pond water, dried dragon blood and a bucketful worth of fish piled next to you, you were pulled out of your zone when you saw- and felt a shadow looming over you.

It was your scaly companion, sitting politely a couple of steps away from your hunt, tongue peeking out and nostrils sniffing the scent.

“You can eat it.” you weren't sure it would understand you but by the way its pupils dilated before it lunged at the fish, tail wiggling upon your words, you knew it did.

Guilt still stubbornly hung on your lungs, even after your act of repent. you might have sated its hunger but it will never be able to soar the skies again.

There was one way you might be able to help, but you weren't so sure it would work. You have stitched dragon skin together before but not when it was on a living breathing one. But perhaps it was worth the shot.

You’d do so tomorrow. If it was here tomorrow. But for now, you had something else to worry about. Your first dragon training lesson.

“We’ll start off today with something easy.” They said.

You thought Commander Kim might teach you how to properly pick and hold a shield and a sword, or how to find shelter, not throw all ten of you in an arena with an enraged dragon chasing you around.

you just barely escaped the grasps of a dragon only to be thrown under another one. you stuck by the corner of the arena, letting the others get chased by it instead, tranquil and at peace until your shoulder was bumped into.

“What's wrong Princess, you scared?”

“I told you to stop calling me that.” you rolled your eyes because of course Minho would take any chance he has to tease you and pretend like he didn't bully you hours ago, even if it was in the middle of the fucking training session. “And if you're so brave Mr.Slayer then why are you hiding too ?”

“I’m not hiding, I’m simply waiting for the right moment to strike.” He puffed his armored chest out. you were afraid your eyes might get stuck to the back of your head with how far you roll them around him.

“Keep telling yourself that buddy, you'll eventually start believing it.” you kept your eyes on the creature in front. But Minho turned quiet, which struck you as odd. If you learned anything from the years-long disputes with him was that he always had the last word, hell he would outlive the gods fighting to have the last word. You turned your face only for it to be a mere inch away from his. It took you back to the day before, the same emotions ran through you only this time you weren't in agony, well not physically at least, But your soul would never rest as long as you were around a Lee. A familiar tug pulled at your heart at the way he was leaning into you, nose closing in on your neck.

“What are you doing? marketing yourself as bait?” he looked up into your eyes.

“What-?” you asked, confused.

“You smell like fish.”

you had rushed here straight from the forest without stopping at your house to change out of your bloodied sullied clothes. This was bad, if a human could smell the fishy odor off of you then a dragon’s heightened sense of smell would surely pick it up and mistake you for food.

“T-That's none of your business.” you pushed him away, putting enough distance between you to placate your thumping heart.

“since when did you like fish?”That took you aback, you hadn't known he noticed you picking on the fish meat they regularly served at the great hall. You hadn't known he focused on anything else other than his own ass.

“Since when did you care?” it might have come out as a bit too defensive but you felt threatened, he seemed to know a bit too much about you for your liking. Perhaps while you were too busy looking at anything other than him, Minho was busy looking closely at nothing other than you, engraving everything his eyes percept in his mind under a folder with your name on it, closely studying you, memorizing details for him to recite later.

“Y/N, Minho stop trying to gauge each other throats out and focus on the lesson.” commander Kim yelled at you from his place outside the arena, where he was safe and sound, watching you from above.

“shouldn't you be teaching us how to deafened ourselves first?” annoyance colored your voice.

“You learn on the job.” Commander Kim yelled back, “now stop huddling up like a bunch of lovebirds and get out there.”

you rolled your eyes once more, yeah you might lose a limb or two but it was no big deal, at least you would have a tale to tell your father when he comes back.

The others in the middle of the arena were trying everything they could, from chasing it around with their shields and weapons to it chasing them with fire bursting from its mouth.

This was ludicrous if you had wanted to get chased around by a dragon you would've stayed back at the forest with the night fury, and you were going to stat just that to your instructor. you marched towards where he stood. “Commander Kim with all due respect, don't you think its a bit too hazardous for us to be running around free with a dragon?” you were looking for a way out, you didn't want to fight the dragon.

“The only thing you should be worried about right now is that scaly thing heading towards you.” he pointed with his head behind you.

you ducked just in time when you saw a wall of fire headed at you. “EXACTLY MY POINT !!” you shouted at the instructor as you ran for your life, shield over your head. you recognized the dragon classified in the nonlethal class, not the worst but still could do serious damage if it wanted to. And right now, it seemed like it wanted to. It was chasing you much more vigorously than it had with the others. No doubt it had finally catching a whiff of you.

Everyone noticed how crazed it suddenly turned, now it was their turn to cower in the corner while you fought it off.

“come on knock it out” you heard commander Kim yell over the flapping of wings, “ bang his head with your shield.”

Easier said than done if you lift the armor away from your face for a second the dragon wouldn't hesitate in attacking. Was there a way you could subdue it as you have done to the night fury? there must be, your heart wouldn't be able to take it if you injured another one of them.

“lookout !!” you heard someone shout before a weight slammed on top of you, squshing you to the floor with its body. you looked up in surprise only to see Minho’s the culprit. Right, where your body was a second ago was now a molten hole, magma dripping down from it like pudding.

He got off you and slammed the shield in his hand roughly to the dragon now laying dazed on the ground. He let out his breaths in deep heaves, and you’ve got to admit, he looked attractive like this, dressed in his armor, out of breath with beads of sweat clinging to him. you mentally shook those thoughts away. This was no time to appreciate his physical appearance when his sole purpose of helping was probably to take the glory away from you.

A palm was offered to you. You would've taken it if it wasn't attached to the person that pushed you to the floor in the first place. You pushed his hand away and got up yourself. What's up with him? he helped you out when you passed out earlier only for him to make fun of you for doing so, then comes around acting like nothing happened only to push you out of harm's way and saved you from getting burned again.

“I could've handled that myself, I don't need your help.” you brushed the dirt off of you as if that would do anything to your already soiled clothes. Minho's face fell, his hand flattered in the air before he pulled them back to his side in a fist.

“Whatever suit yourself,” he scorned, “next time why don't you run to chan when you need help.”

What was he going on about? You had tried to be nice to him and thank him earlier when he had helped. He was the one that acted like a jerk and made fun of you. And what did chan have to do with any of this? he couldn't possibly be jealous of chan?

While you were facing your little dilemma named Lee Minho’s bipolar tendencies, commander Kim jumped down to the field and put the knocked out dragon away.

“Good job Minho,” he clapped him on the back but Minho didn't look so thrilled, avoiding your eye contact.”First rule of the battlefield: Never hesitate. Give it one second and it will not hesitate in burning you to crisps. class dismissed”

Minho was the first one out, sulky throwing off his headgear and shield to the floor as he exited the arena. why was he playing the victim here? it was your turn to scoff now and sulky leave the arena, though you had the decency of putting your gear back in its intended place.

VI.

“Say,” you began, gathering Hyunjin’s attention from his working hands, busy mixing another concoction. “Theoretically, If I were to have to numb a dragon, would one of our numbing Potions work on them?”

That got Hyunjin’s hands to freeze in their place, question marks clear in his eyes. “Where’s this coming from?” There was a hint of suspicion waltzing behind his question.

“Just a thought.” you shrugged nonchalantly.

He sighed but answered nonetheless, “we don’t know much about dragon anatomy but, theoretically it would probably take a shit ton of dosage to numb them than it would for us.”

you nodded your head. “thought so.”

He dropped whatever was in his hands and faced you completely, hands leaning on the table separating you from him.“okay spill it. What did you do ?”

You weren’t surprised he asked. He knew you too well, with how often your curiosity got you in trouble and all. You contemplated telling him everything, if there was anyone you would trust to talk about what had happened to you in the past 48 hours, it would be Hyunjin. It felt wrong to keep something away from him, he was the person you shared everything with.

Thumbs twiddling in your lap, your eyes wandered around the knicks and knacks spread out in the workplace. The tapping of Hyunjin’s fingers on the wooden surface forced your eyes to the jagged line that ran through the back of his left hand, reminding you of the time hyunjin got glass shards carved into it. It was very foolish of you to go around sniffing and picking at the ingredients around his workplace. Turns out The pretty pink liquid set up in the farthest shelf was put up there for a reason, it was poisonous and had hyunjin not slapped the bottle out of your hands reach you would’ve been poisoned to death. And had his parents not been around to put the antidote on hyunjin would’ve been one arm less or worse, dead.

You couldn’t possibly put him in harm's way again, he was too sweet and innocent for that, you would never forgive yourself if anything happened to hyunjin, you still didn’t completely forgive yourself for the scar you marred on Hyunjin’s delicate form, despite how many times he told you it was fine.

Perhaps later, once you've got your thoughts organized you would tell him, but for now, it seems like it's going to be your little dirty secret.

“Nothing.” You shrugged again. he didn't have to say it, it was written all over his face, he didn't believe you.

“Really there's nothing. Just one of the many unanswered inquiries running through my mind.”

By the purse of his lips, you knew it bothered him that you were shrugging him off, but he dropped the issue nevertheless.

“If you say so,” he side-eyes you while he goes back to working again,” so what's new with Minho?” He slipped out so easily.

“What? Why would you bring up that spawn of the devil for?”

“Well, you always end up talking about him anyway so I'm just cutting to the chase.” Smugness sure was a good look on him. His eyebrows quirk and that little tug that pulled one corner of his lip up would have anyone fall to their knees.

“Wha-“ you would deny it if it wasn’t true. Somehow, someway Minho slithered his way into your subconscious, permanently sitting with a crown over his head in the gold-encrusted chair he placed in your mind, playing with your thoughts, making you think about him even when he wasn't around. To be frank, you always complained about the lees in general to hyunjin, namely a certain one was mentioned more than the others, but that was only because you wanted to push him off the edge of the island..right?

“What are you getting at?”

“oh I don't know,” he hummed, his hands didn't stutter once while he spoke,” that your too stubborn to confront your feelings about him.”

“What feelings ?” you stubbornly denied.

“See?” he deadpanned.

“Whatever.” You didn't like the heat pooling in your cheeks or the jitters convulsing your stomach.

“Just admit it, Your so used to hating him that it has become easier for you to just go along with his weird charade of displaying his affection for you than it is to actually do something about your feelings for him.”

“What? He doesn’t like me like that. He likes making me conjure up scenarios of his slow brutal death every day though.”

Despite your little way of deteriorating the conversation, Hyunjin’s face turned serious, “ Y/N you’re blinder than a ground mole if you think Minho doesn’t like you like that.”

“No, he doesn’t!! He was such an ass to me yesterday!”

“Look.. that was different Y/N. I don't really agree with his way of approach but…” he looked lost in his thoughts, searching for the right words to describe such an enigma.

“he hasn't had it easy since day one. It's not really an excuse for him to treat you the way he does but, deep down he's just a diamond in the rough, a child that's been teased since birth for being too caring. He’s too afraid of showing anything close to emotions for anyone but for some reason his act always seems to slip around you.” That had your heart stop.

“ You didn't see the way he hurtled into here the other night with you in his arms, he himself was bleeding but he wouldn't let me touch his cuts until someone treated you first. Y/N I think your the only one that could help him.”

Now that was surprising, you were pushed once again under the same shed of light you saw Minho in after your accident.

“Help him?”

“Have you ever considered talking to him? Like a normal conversation where none of you would set the room on fire?”

You have tried, you tried to talk to him on the morning of the sailing, and now that you think about it he did act differently until you were both interrupted by chan.

The door behind hyunjin creaked open and Hyunjin’s mother popped her head out, “ Hyunjin can you— oh good morning Y/N, how are your burns healing?”

“As perfect as the rest of me.” You replied sarcastically, thankful for the interruption.

“Cheeky as always I see,” she chuckled, “I need to steal hyunjin for a bit, we need an extra hand in the back.”

“Yeah, I was leaving anyway. Dragon training starts soon.” Saved by mother Hwang, you couldn't thank her enough for it.

“Be careful out there. I heard the training can get pretty wild.”

Images of Minho pressed up against you on the floor flashes before your eyes. That was not what she meant, THAT WAS NOT WHAT SHE MEANT.

You shook your head, “ yeah..”

A shrill sound pierced the air, making all three of you jump. “Oh boy, hyunjin, come quickly, help me pick up the cauldron from the fire before it starts spilling everywhere.”

“Think about what I said.” He noted quickly at you before he followed his mother back into the room where they worked most of their magic.

He was right. Hyunjin was always right. But you had other pressing matters than pouting around and pondering over unsaid feelings.

VII.

Second day of training did not go the way you imagined it too.

Sure today you were, once again, locked in the arena with everyone else, a new dragon unleashed, freely soaring around you. But what was different was a certain brunette that stayed quiet for the first time since he was born.

It was a breath of fresh air. Nothing nagging you, floating around you, buzzing in your ear like a fly. But it was disorienting. Was he upset over the first class?

Whatever, you didn't do anything wrong, you didn't ask of him to save you. you didn't ask for anything but here you are.

Today’s session didn't last long. whilst others were greedily fighting for who gets the victorious title of defeating the dragon today, You did try to act as if you were actually trying to fight the dragon, but then went to the same spot you were just a mere 24 hours ago. Commander Kim yelled at you the same way he did yesterday and you had turned a blind eye to him.

You were stuck in limbo. For one, if you don’t show an effort in learning, it will reach your father’s ears once he comes back and you don't think you’ll be able to handle him looking at you with disappointment dripping off of his entire being. But two, you weren't sure that fighting dragons was the right thing to do anymore, the night fury has planted new speculations in your mind, maybe the gods created both dragons and humans to live cohesively in harmony. Maybe you've all just had it wrong. Maybe you could do something to change how everyone's mind.

And three, Minho's silence was deafening. Why just why did you have to live next to each other? Every day, after each lesson, the both of you would have to take the same path to go back to your own respectful homes, albeit you don't stand next to each other, one of you would be ahead of the other, mostly you- unknown to you that the boy let you lead because he wanted to keep a protective eye on you.- god forbid you get seen walking with him, that would be the end of the world.

“Have you ever considered talking to him? Like a normal conversation where none of you would set the room on fire?”

This time, you were the one left staring at his backside while he treaded up the road. Not a single cheeky remark said. Thoughts of starting up a conversation with him skipped your mind, but what would you say? Thank you once again for saving me yesterday? Why did you insist on having me treated first? Why’re you such an ass?

A white ball of fur jumped at the feet of the boy in front of you. Unlike your startled self, Minho's face sported a soft smile, one you had never seen, one you didn’t know he could sport.

He crouched down to be on the same level of the pretty snow white feline basically throwing itself on him. Nimble fingers rubbed the back of the cat's ears, pulling a loud purr out of it.

He looked so small crouching down next to it, smile still painted on his face. Did he know you were behind him? Probably not because you've never seen him like this, and by the way the feline trusted him he must’ve been doing this for a while.

“What have you been feeding it, young man? She won't eat any of the food I give her anymore.” An old lady, you recognized her as the local chef’s wife, scolded Minho, a playful lilt in her voice.

He giggled.

“Mrs.whiskers likes your husband’s smoked tuna did you know that?”

Oh no, no no. Who allowed your heart to skip a beat it the sound of his chuckle. No, it was probably a heat stroke or something, you're already exhausted from standing still and doing nothing in the arena, it was probably the heat getting to you.

You hurried off past Minho, not listing to the rest of the conversation, and turned left, at where the path leads you to the hidden dragon buried deep in the forest, passing both of your houses on the way, earning a Quizzical stare from Minho on your retreating form.

You had snuck a couple of numbing potions after Hyunjin disappeared behind the closed door, your homemade sewing kit stashed next to it in your brown leather bag, a couple of fishes thrown in there too, to persuade the dragon on letting you stitch him incase he let you.

You were determined to fix things, or else you would quite possibly disintegrate from the heavy feeling in your chest.

This time, you gracefully slid down the slope instead of tumbling down it. You had peaked through the veins to catch a glimpse, and what you saw shriveled your heartstrings.

The dragon let out an annoyed groan as he once again fell to the ground after failing to catch his balance once in the air. It kept repeating, landing, getting up, spreading its wing, shaking its tail once before leaping into the air only for it to not catch drag and slam back down into the ground once more.

Its head suddenly whipped towards you, the same annoyed growl was heard and you wondered again if you should've brought someone with you. Or...maybe even Minho as he seemed keen on breaking the mold you had set for him.

Nope. Not going to think about him.

Running viciously at you with its teeth bared and a heart stoping screech, unleashing its wrath on you, was what you expected the dragon to do, instead it let out a burst of flames to the ground in front of him successfully charring the grass, with its wing it put out the fire than laid upon it. Its back facing you.

So it held a grudge against you. That's...not what you expected. Not that it shouldn't hate you but that a so-called ruthless beast could show such human-like emotions.

You slowly neared it, calling to it as you did.

“Hey..uhh harmless creature,” it didn’t respond.

“Umm, it's me. uh Again.” It let out a huff at that, chest moving up and down violently.

“... I know you probably hate me, a-and I don't blame you for that,” you stuttered,” but I might be able to help you.”

Its ears flipped backward, it was listening. You had its attention.

“I have a proposition for you.” You laid down your satchel and took out the fish. A sliver of a movement of its tail told you it had caught a whiff. You whipped the fish around to let the wind carry the scent to him.

“If you lay still and snack on what I brought you without jumping me this time, I will fix your wing.” wide beady eyes stared at you, it tilted its head to one side, just like how a dog would do to look at you better. if you had seen it do this a couple of days ago you would of pissed your pants, but strangely enough, you found it enchanting now.

it fully turned to you now, nose sniffing the fish still dangling in your hand, but it didn't move any closer.

you throw the fish in your hand in front of him alongside the others you had in your satchel. still as a rock, it didn't move, eyes fixated on you.

“go ahead, I didn't poison them.” but you did dose them heavily in some of the numbing potions you got. They were scent and tasteless so hopefully, the dragon wouldn't sniff or taste anything weird.

At that it lunged at the food, letting you peacefully walk to his side.

Its injured wing was as it was yesterday, pulled close to its body.

“Buddy, you're going to have to spread your wing.” you tapped his wing softly.

it stopped munching for a second but complied in the next. so it was starting to trust you.

you took what was left of the potions you had in your bag and poured it gently onto the angry open wound, It was just a precaution, for you and for the dragon. you wouldn't want it to slap you with its boney wings and possibly break one of yours. with one bat you would be thrown like a rag doll across the meadow field.

It didn't seem to react to the liquid touching him, except for a tiny twitch of his underlying muscles, so you did your first puncher with the needle. It was way harder to puncher through the thick layers of muscles and scaly skin than it was with normal leather.

And as you had expected, upon the incision, its tail twitched from its previous serenity and struck you in the face with such force that had you thrown to the ground behind.

“ouch, that was surely going to leave a bruise.’” It looked at you accusingly, hurt shining in his eyes.

“look, it pains me just as much as you, but if you want to fly again, this might be the only solution!”

it was a hassle but after another round of one-sided verbal negotiation, a row of neat stitches decorated his left wing. “now I would tell you not to move around much but-” you couldn't finish your sentence as it had stubbornly tried to take flight, it did for a hot minute until a couple of the stitchings tore.

It looked at you with pleading eyes once it was back on the ground.

“come here, you big oaf.”

After you had repaired the stitches, the dragon had yet to move from your side. You dared to pet its head and it let you, closing its eyes and leaning towards your touch, smooth leather skidding under your touch, soft purs rippling out of him.

you closed your own eyes, resting beneath the tree, shading in it, letting your thoughts wander and finally puzzle the pieces together.

it was as you suspected, dragons weren't that bad.But the question now was, what are you going to do with this new piece of information? This town had fought years after years and gave birth to generations of dragon warriors. It was your island legacy, their creed, to kill dragons. How were you, an overlooked human, supposed to convince them of what their thick skulls would never want to accept?

You looked at the dragon resting peacefully next to you.

“How can I save you?”

VIII.

“whats wrong with your face?” is the first thing you hear come out of Minho's mouth after his whole devotion to being silent as a monk around you.

The blue and purple hues staining your cheek was not something you could hide with your hair, it was on display for everyone, but that dipshit didn't have to announce it to everyone in 10 meters ratio.

You glared at him, couldn't he have phrased it nicer? who were you kidding, this is Lee Minho you were talking about, he's either as smooth as the butter you spread on your rockhard biscuits or as rude and grumpy as the old fisherman's wife living down by the bay.

“I punched myself so I wouldn't have to see your face. But oh here you are.”

He tsked, he was genuinely worried about you, if it wasn't for that he wouldn't have broken his silent treatment with you.

With that, he turned the other way to hid the pout pulling his lips down in obvious disdain, albeit you caught sight of it, and god damn your heart for leaping at such sight.

Were you too mean?

you were starting to get a headache from all the thinking so you decided to stop and focus on your lesson, and by focus, you meant to think of ways to avoid engaging in the ruthless practice.

to say the next couple of days were eventful would be a lie, Minho kept ignoring you and you kept going to the forest after each lesson to play with the dragon, who you playfully decided to name starlight- it was the first time you caught sight of him on a starry night. plus it wouldn't agree to be called anything else, you kept calling it by different names but it only responded to starlight.

Everything was going swell, except for the fact that you had the most wanted dragon as a pet and that you missed Minho. You missed hearing his annoying voice, you don't miss his rude remarks but you miss playfully bantering with him. He doesn't look like he's doing well with dark bags stitched to his under eyes and stress lines forming way too early for his age. Dare you say you were worried for him. But you decided not to interfere, for now.

You could notice the stares of the people around you, eyeing your ever-accumulating marks and bruises decorating your body. You couldn't do anything about the ones that your clothes cant hide. Starlight likes to play rough and the other scratches are from your clumsy self. Questions were bound to be asked and you weren't sure what the answers should be.

By now it was nearing the deadline of your father's voyage and your training, Minho was looking worse by the second, he looked as if he was forced to sleep with a dragon in the same cave.

“Alright soon to be Vikings gather up.” commander Kim announced, gathering everyone's divided attention from staring at the large, tall wooden walls placed in the usually empty arena, forming a maze of sorts. “Today we’re doing something different, you are to pair up in twos and go into the maze. In there somewhere are eggs stashed away, guarded by some obstacles. First team to get out with three eggs wins. easy right?”

You noticed some of the girls standing next to you ogle at Minho, no doubt thinking of throwing themselves on him in a chance of becoming his partner. You would think the girls would know better than to pair up with him as he would be as useless as his twin brothers brains, but you guess those girls just might share the same brain.

“Minho, Y/N you're together. The rest are free to choose,” he announced oh so casually as if he and the others haven't noticed yours and Minho’s lethal relationship.

“What?!” you both exclaimed, sharing a look. “That's unfair!! -”

Commander Kim raised his palm up, shutting you up “You're both too busy bickering at each other to fight the actual enemy here.” you begged to differ, dragons weren't the enemy” you have got to trust each other. It's the golden rule.”

“I’d rather go in by myself.”

“I second that,” but Minho didn't sound as opposed.

“No, what I say goes.” he refused again “now get on with it before I tie the both of you together.”

you sighed, there was nothing you can do about it, the sooner you get it done with, the faster you can go and hang around your new pet.

Minho was as quiet as ever so you took the lead for once and talked. “let's get this over with quickly, I’ll get the egg and you keep an eye out for me, no tricks no games.”

he nodded lethargically, eyes darker than his usual bright brown ones.

once the horns announced the start of the game, both of you sprinted inside. Large walls caged you in a foggy mist, you could barely see your hand. This wasn't good, you might separate from Minho and get lost. Blindly you reached for where you last saw Minho, your fingers touched the familiar cool metal plates that cover his chest, you slid it down until you found his hand.

“what are you doing?” he whispered.

“so we don't get lost” Thank Thor that it was misty and the scarlet tinge coloring your cheeks couldn't be seen.

“lead the way.” you gestured with you interwind hands. he took the liberty of interlacing your fingers, firmly squeezing your hand in his. Had you not known it was your hand in his you might have thought it was your heart with the way It was pumping so weirdly.

Sightless, you both relied on your sense of touch and hearing for this task. Your hands guiding you away from any dead ends, ears listening for any unwanted visitors.

you stubbed your foot against a rough object which caused it to roll away. An egg !!

“There's one here! “you squeezed Minho’s hand, gesturing to where you heard it roll. Slowly you unlace your hand from his, to grab the golden egg and shove it in the pouch you were given.

“okay that was too easy-” you should've kept your mouth shut for the sudden gust of wind hovering over the back of your necks made both of your bodies turn rigged, your hand sneaking back into Minho’s wordlessly.

Simultaneously, another team bumps into your backs, bringing with them another dragon. Upon collision, the other team's egg fell from their hand and rolled next to your feet. You took it, quickly stashing it in your pouch. Leaving the only problem now is to escape this trap, find one more egg than get the hell out of here.

“don't move,” Minho whispered. Dragons have blind spots, hiding in them could eventually lead to losing the dragon's track.

The boy on the other team scoffed, recognizing Minho's voice “as if id take advice from you.” and made the first move. Colossal mistake, now he had both of the dragon's attention pointed at him. A disadvantage for him but an advantage for you.

You and Minho took off running away from the pair, letting them deal with their foolish act.

Eventually, you reach a part where the fog doesn't hang so thick in the air and it is safe to let go of your hands. but neither of you do.

“How many do we have?” he askes.

you hold up two fingers with a shit-eating grin. he copies yours and smiles back.

“I'm guessing we're in the eye of the maze now.” you reached a circular place, with nothing but five pathways, one of them must be the exit while the others must be where the other teams entered from.

“I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that's not it.”Minho points at one pathway that you could clearly see lightning strikes reflecting from the walls along with shrilling screams.

“Yeah, lets hurry before they come out and bring it with them.” you agreed.

All four other pathways seemed as equally suitable for the exit as each other, so you randomly chose one. The path seemed normal in the beginning but the more turns you took the darker it got. Light spilled from random crevices up above, enough for you to see Minho next to you, but not enough to illuminate what was beyond him.

you froze in your place when you felt a tug on your pouch, pulling it roughly away from you. “Did you just take the pouch?”

“What? No, why would I?”

“Well, something did.”

The sound of rummaging came from behind, causing both of you to turn around. From what your eyes could catch, the relatively small-sized blue dragon with its head in your bag was what caused the sound. It sniffed into your pouch before it pulled the pouch with its mouth to a corner where you noticed a third egg sat. You recognized the dragon immediately, body going in full flight mode.

“That tiny thing is what took it?” Minho mocked, already making his way to the dragon.

“Minho NO, it's more dangerous then it looks,” you pulled back on his hand. This type of dragons were known for their razor-sharp poison-filled spikes and speed.

“It's fine. It's small. We’ll just grab the pouch and pounce.” He advanced as he talked, making it dangerously close to the dragon.

“No Minho one sting from it and you'll be-“ you don’t get to finish your sentence as you push Minho with all your strength out of the way of the flying spike. The spike hit the wall behind you, inches from where he stood “ -Paralyzed.” You finish, out of breath.

The small dragon, now aggravated, was ready to strike at the both of you again but it sensed oncoming visitors. You looked at where its beady red eyes were staring and vaguely saw shadows that resembled a human’s.

Distracted, Minho made the brave choice to run to your pouch, stuff the third egg in, and as he so kindly phrased it pounced away. Dragging you by the hand with him.

“RUN!”

You had hoped the dragon would go after the new guests that arrived, but it didn’t seem to appreciate you taking its eggs. You felt a weight cling onto your back and force you down to the floor, unwillingly removing your hand from Minho's grip.

Before you could even react Minho had flung the pouch at the dragon with such vigor that you were sure the thud it made rang through the whole arena. He helped haul you up quite easily that you for a second forgot how much you weight, were you that light or was Minho always been this strong?

The dragon swayed from side to side, shaking its head a couple of times as it did. Before it could gain its senses again, both you and Minho were out of sight.

After multiple run-ins to walls- and to each other- endless twists and turns, you finally see the light. Just a couple of steps more and you will be out of this maze.

You make it one foot out but something pulls Minho back inside, linked hands dragging you back with him.

“Minho!”

The same spiked dragon was on his back. Quite literally. It had its claws dug into his armor, pulling Minho backward into the maze, it's tail ready to sting Minho's neck.

It was time to choose, you either spare the dragon and let Minho get hurt. Or hurt the dragon in order to save Minho. Both options sucked, but maybe…

It’s a lucky guess. You had accidentally discovered this one time when you were fooling around with starlight, there was no assurance it would work on other types of dragons, but if it did it would save both of them from getting harmed.

It was now or never. Before you could back out, you reached your hand under the dragon's sharp teethed mouth and scratched the thick calloused skin on its chin. It instantly unclawed Minho, grip going lax, eyes slowly closing, head leaning into your touched until it fell to the ground, completely paralyzed and in bliss.

Minho was too busy heaving on both his hands and knees to speak.

“Are you okay? Did it sting you?”

He shook his head, not sure what question he was answering but the lack of a hole in his neck reassured you. He looked back at the dragon, surprised to find it in a daze on the floor. He didn’t have to ask, you could read the questions all over his face. How did you do that? But you quickly dragged him up and out the maze, not letting him utter a word.

You didn’t like using any of the tricks you learned in front of others or in your training sessions. This was a slip-up. thankfully no one was around to see it except Minho. As much as you had prayed that the Lee’s would get eaten by a dragon you didn’tThankfully mean it.

“Congratulations! you're the first team out.” Commander Kim claps both of you on your backs, a bit too roughly.

“We make a good team,” you sheepishly said to minho, not expecting him to reply.

A smile tugged at his lips, one you had never imagined you'd see directed at you. “yeah… I guess we do.”

You were going to have to give hyunjin a visit with the way your heart was palpating so much lately.

IX.

“Starlight I can't throw that!” the sound of your laugh echoed in the empty forest.

The pond mimicked the sunset above, reflecting the apricot haze off the water, rippling softly as you swung your feet to and fro. Pants pulled up to your knees, scratches and marks from starlight rough playing on display.

Said dragon whined and nudged at the fully grown tree that he tossed at your feet a second ago after the fragile twigs you kept throwing him kept snapping between his sharp teeth.

The dragon was almost completely healed by now, the stitches have worked, you took them out the other day and the dragon could fly again. It was a very melancholic event, you were happy it could fly again but you were going to miss hanging with him. The moment you took the last stitch out, it zoomed away without looking back, spinning and soaring in the sky.

“You're not going to say goodbye ?!”

So he came back, gave you a lick that clung to your hair and clothes and took hours to pull off of you, gave one last look with its wide green eyes, then spread its wings and flapped away, roaring happily as he did.

You may have shed a tear or two, but no one shall know. Missing your companion, you went back the next day to the same place it has been inhabiting for the last week and a half and low and behold, and there it was drinking from the pond, waiting for you to visit.

As days go by, you slowly saw more sides of the dragon unfold as it started trusting you. Whether it be how quick-witted it was with the way he mimicked whatever he saw you do, to how goofy and puppy-like he could be with the way he would sleep upside down like a bat on a tree or spin around in circles trying to catch his own tail, All to which help solidify your thought. Dragons were not your enemy.

starlight whined again once it saw you laugh at him, “Bud, I can't just throw a tree like you!”

he turned his back on you, throwing a tantrum like a two-year-old that had his favorite toy taken away.

“Bud, come on,” you reached to pet its head but he stubbornly turned away.”I'm tiny compared to you, I don't have wings I cant fly. I don't have superhuman strength either, that's why I have you by my side.” you hugged it, trying to turn its head towards you.

“look at you, acting like a baby, you even look the part!” you were referring to the stray tree leaves stuck between the scales on the back of his neck, no doubt from when he pulled the tree out of the ground. You climbed on his back to pluck them out, and before you knew it, your feet were no longer on the ground. Now call yourself crazy but you had always thought of riding on the back of a dragon before, wondering how it would feel to touch the clouds. But not when the dragon was playfully somersaulting mid-air, over the ocean, 50 feet above.

“STARLIGHT!! PUT ME DOWN!! BADBOY!!” you yelled, eyes glued closed out of fear. that seemed to make it sulk even more as he playfully zipped down and dipped the edges of his wings into the water before spraying you with it, making you shut your eyes even tighter.

“STARLIGHT PLEASE!!” You have anything to catch on to except his bare body which wasn't much. Your fingers were slipping from the momentum he was flying at. “ STARLIGHT IM GONNA FALL!! PLEASE PUT ME DOWN”

It stubbornly flew higher, wings heavily swifting through the air, until it broke through the first layer of clouds. “ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! YOU’RE A GOOD BOY, YOU’RE THE BEST PET DRAGON EVER NOW PUT ME DOWN didn't.”

It was satisfied with that and flew you back down, just in time for your fingers to finally slip and lose grip. Your body bomb dives to the ground, landing all your weight on your wrist for support, causing it to twist a weird angle.

“Ah!” Your exclaim caught the dragon's attention, seeing you in pain made him look at you all pleadingly, with dilated pupils, the same way he does whenever he knows he did something wrong.

“Starlight, you can't just do that without me knowing, I'm not like you if I had fallen from you that might have been the end of me.”

It whined and looked at the floor, huffing out a fiery breath. You tried to move your wrist, but it was refusing to move without any pain.

“Great, now I'm going to have to visit hyunjin.” A sigh slips from your lips. It wasn’t like you were avoiding hyunjin…but you were avoiding him.

The dragon before you got up and hurls to the pile of food you gave him earlier, only for him to come back with a fish in his mouth.

A peace offering. You did the same thing to him when you first freed him from your bolt and again when you stitched him up.

Starlight was intelligent, perceptive, a quick learner. You caught sight of him a couple of times copying whatever you were doing, be it sitting by the brinks of the pond with your legs in the water- the dragon plunged its whole tail in instead- or laying down on your back and closing your eye to take a breather.

Sorcery is what people would say if they saw this. You have manged to tame the so allegedly accused untamable. You managed to win its trust, and with it came its whole being.

It was a very moving gesture, he felt guilty and didn't want you to be mad at him. He dropped the fish and nudged at it, begging you with his eyes.

“Oh, starlight.” You pet his head with your good hand“ I'm not mad at you, but next time do give me a heads up. I'm not like you, I don't have wings, if I plunge from a high place, I will die.”

It licked at your knotted up hair, leaving a trail of spit as he did, A bad habit he has that you have yet to teach him not to do because it made it even harder for your detangle your hair.

“Ugh, thanks bud.” You wipe the goo off your face, spraying back at him.

He helped you get up to your feet, letting you put your body weight on him. He walked you all the way up the slope you descend from to get down here, but it didn't step a foot out of place, he knew you wouldn't allow him too. It was too dangerous, you couldn’t have someone accidentally see the both of you here.

“Thanks, starlight,” with your good hand you itched behind its perked ear, right where you knew made him turn to a purring mess “Now be a good boy and stay out of sight?”

You pulled your hand back, but starlight followed it, nudging your hand back over his head. You laughed again at him “ I’ll give you more pats tomorrow. Stay hidden, okay bud?” If it were a human being, the sulky pout would be evident on its face.

“Now go on you big baby.” he let out one last screech before it flew away.

Its been a while since you've visited hyunjin and you've been meaning to go one of these days, but you were dreading having to answer the question you knew he would ask about the ambiguous causes of all your injuries, so you just avoided going to him, preferring to heal your wounds at home with you minimum knowledge of dressing burns and scraps. But this seemed like it might need professional attention.

A sigh slips out again once you're in front of Hyunjin's door. Throbbing wrist in hand, throbbing headache in the process.

“I was wondering when you would stop avoiding me.” Hyunjin's snarky voice greeted you.

Of course, he would notice. This has been the longest you’ve gone without seeing him, but you were pretty occupied with your new pet.“I...wasn’t avoiding, practice has me occupied.”

“Uh hah is that so ?” he deadpanned, stare poking holes into your soul.

“So what did i do in my past life for you to grace me with your precence?” He mocked a bow.

“Ha ha very funny.” You held up your wrist and showed it to him. “ i fell down and sprained my wrisy.”

“ did you fall down a hellhole or something?” he gently took hold of your hand, twisting it here and there to see what he was dealing with.

“You could say that.”

“Lucky you, it doesn’t seem fractured, probably just trauma. Keep it wrapped and it'll be good as new in no time.”

He brought out a cloth and started to wrap your hand firmly in it. He pushed the sleeve of your shirt up and noticed all the burn marks adorning your skin.

“So are you going to tell me how you really sprained your hand?” Knowing you had an excuse ready on your tongue, he continued, “And why you look like our rusty thousand-year-old cauldron?” His tone was nothing like his playful one earlier.

“Fell down the rabbit hole.” He didn't appreciate your joke by the looks of it. His hands stopped and he looked you dead in the eye,” Y/N your really starting to worry me. Is something wrong? Is someone doing this to you? Is it Minho?”

“What?! No! No one is doing this to me.”He stayed still, gaze still holding yours, doubt shifting in them.

“Trust me. I'm fine in that regard. Minho's actually…been tolerable lately.” You didn't realize it but a smile took form upon your face and it didn't slip Hyunjin’s radar.

“What do you mean?”

A third sigh in less than ten minutes graced your lips, but this one wasn't of exasperation. “Ever since commander Kim partnered us up for a task, Minho’s been civil with me.”

you didn't mention the shy smiles shared between coincidental run-ins. You hadn't imagined that the smile he gave you after the game was over would grace you for the rest of the week. Whenever you would see him, you would send him a smile, and he’d give you one back. It set fire to your veins, burning your nerves- a good kinda burn, not like the ones starlight usually toasted you like a marshmallow with.

You didn't talk or anything, but it wasn't that suffocating silence either. You were tiptoeing on eggshells, not knowing whether you should be the one to talk first or not.

“Still doesn’t explain why you're all tattered up.” He wasn't letting the subject go. Maybe now was the time for you to tell him. You trusted hyunjin. He could keep a secret.

But just like the last time you saw him, a door opening intervened your moment. This time it being the main door of the house. You both turned to see none other than the devil himself standing there.

Lee Minho.

Hyunjin glanced at you before looking back at Minho, noticing the small smiles that fused both of your faces.

“Hurry up,” you mouth to hyunjin, but hyunjin being hyunjin slows down deliberately instead. If it wasn’t for how good looking he was you would’ve punched him back to the days he was a blabbering mess of gaga’s and giggles (not that he was any different now).

“What brings you here? “ hyunjin asks Minho while his hands are busy moving no faster than his brain cells over your wrist.

“Mother said you have a new batch made of that sleeping potion.”

“Yeah, it's around the back let me bring it for you.” He looked at you, pointing an accusing finger at you “ and you, this conversation isn't over.”

“Yeah yeah just go now.” You shoo him with your now, thankfully, fully wrapped hand.

Minho stood next to you, eyes inquisitively grazing over your injured hand.“What..” he seemed to be contemplating whether to continue asking or not but seeing as you maintained eye contact, curiosity shining in them, he gathered the courage up “what happened?” He timidly asks.

That took both you and your heart by surprise, “I- Just tripped and fell, nothing serious.”

He nodded and you think you hear him murmur “that's good “ under his breath but you weren't so sure with the way his head cocked downward. It was so unlike him.

“Are you okay?” You decide to ask because the sag of his shoulders, the disheveled clothes, the unkempt hair and the circles around his eyes were getting concerningly bigger each time you saw him that he could almost rival how big starlight's eyes were.

He looked surprised at your question. The act of you taking an interest in his well being stirred something in him, sending tingles down his fingertips. He stayed quiet for a bit, pondering on what to say. The soft sound of the clock ticking keeping your thoughts company “I’m —"

“Here you go.” Sometimes hyunjin could spout out words that could rival Plato’s, other times he was as dumb as a plank of wood. You had never wanted to shove his long pretty fingers down his throat more than now.

Unable to read the moment, you shot hyunjin a glare for interrupting Minho from finally talking to you. Wasn’t he the one always encouraging you to go and speak to him?

Minho look disappointed too, shoulders sagging even more, a hint of dismay in his voice“ thanks.” He paid and ran away. Not looking back at you.

“So, where were we?” Hyunjin called back at you.

“ you know what, maybe some other time.” You followed Minho out.

“Y/N!!!”

Sniffles.

Not yours but of some obscure figure that slipped out of the Lee residence. door closing behind them, shutting any light from slipping onto the dark shadows of the night. Sardonic laughter followed the figure out, slumping tiredly to the ground.

Your legs locked in place, lungs frozen, afraid that making a sound would disturb the figure even more. A Wizz of breeze rustled the trees behind you, turning the figure’s head in your direction, faint moonlight emphasizing the wet trail decorating Minho’s cheeks.

It was Minho. He was crying.

Your mind came to a halt for a second, you think your heart did too. What do you do when you see someone that you not long ago wished them the most heinous way of dying looking the same way starlight did when you took away his ability to fly- tired, hopeless and scared.

upon your feet crossing the space between you and him, Minho held his palm up, stopping you in track, “ Go away,” He looked the other way, his other hand wiping whatever his thin sleeves could catch “I don’t need your pity.”

And you would have complied any other day, but the hollowness filling his eyes scared you. His deep brown eyes that would usually glimmer with a hint of mischievousness around you were gone, leaving nothing but black sinkholes. “Im not doing this out of pity.”

He didn't look your way. “I told you to go away, princess.”

“And I told you to stop calling me princess.”

silently you fold down beside him, not speaking, but letting him know you were here. His sniffles were the only thing breaking the silence every few seconds. He side glanced you, a sigh coming out of him seeing you stubbornly sticking by his side. He set his hands down beside him to hold his weight while he faced straight ahead, staring at the moon waving behind big dark clouds, There were no tears on his face but his eyes were red and shiny, wetness clinging onto his eyelashes, sticking them together.

You had your fair amount of silent moments with Minho, but you hated this one the most. No words were said but pain and grief lay so thick in the air you could touch it. It took no genius to know that he was getting teased, yet again, by his brothers before he stepped out of the house.

Timorously you set your hand above his, wordlessly speaking. He didn't retract his own. Instead, he aligned his palms to yours, triggering your beating organ to skip a beat.

“What's wrong?” you dare ask. That seems to set start his fountain of tears again as they clung desperately onto the tips of his lashes, lips quivering so he pressed to a tight line. He leaned on to you, laying his head on your shoulder, face hidden in your neck.

You didn't know if your heart clenching was from his crying or the proximity of him. You let him do as he pleased, hot tears dripping onto your neck, soaking your clothes. It brought tears to your own but you blinked them away, letting the wind dry them up. Your thumb rubbed circles on the back of his hands, occasionally drifting to trace over his knuckles, sharing warmth.

His deep heaves eventually lessened to normal breathing, tears no longer dripping.“What am I supposed to tell him when he comes back?” he crooned so softly that if you weren't listing for it you would've missed it.

It took you a second to realize who he was talking about. “Your father?”

He sniffed.

“ I...dont know.” You squeezed his hand,” I wouldn’t know what to tell mine either.”

The mark of your father's return was nearing and it had you in a swirl of emotions. No doubt you would be joyed at him coming back alive, but you did not know how you would unveil your new discovery to him, Vikings have spent years upon decades slaughtering dragons, finding pleasure in it, turning it into a sick contest of masculinity and strength.

Minho’s hair tickled the side of your face, reminding you he was still there.It was warm- you were warm, despite the cold draft swifting on by. Sitting next to him, under the glinting beam of the moonlight fluttering through the clouds sent warmth down both your bodies.

“My brothers are right. I’m not worthy of the Lee family’s name.”

That startled a reaction out of you, moving back so Minho was obliged to stop hiding in your neck. “Hey,” you called him but when he continued looking away you unlaced your hand from his, and instead held his face, gently turning it to meet your eyes, palms cupping his cheeks. “Look at me.”

“Just because they can ruthlessly skin a dragon alive and pluck its teeth out with their bare hands doesn’t make them any more worthy than you are.” You had said it with so much sincerity that it almost swayed him. It sent an unfamiliar surge of warmth roaming freely in his chest. His eyes stared into yours, shining with unshed tears.

“Lee Minho, you’re a kind, rare soul and if anything, it's them that are unworthy of you.” His eyes quivered, switching between your eyes and lips. You didn't know where these words were coming from, but you meant every single one of them. It might’ve taken a while for you to see it but Minho really was caring in his own way.

You didn't know what force pulled the both of you together but before any of you could wrap your minds around it, you felt Minho’s cold lips pressed on yours. Your hold on his cheeks weakened, fingers sliding down his chest, gripping onto his shirt.

After what could’ve been minutes felt like hours, he distanced himself enough to murmur, “I don't want to kill, Y/N” the way your name melted off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, grounding you in place with his gaze, breaths tickling your lips. You were seeing and experiencing a lot of firsts, uncovering new sides of Minho.

“Maybe…” you hesitated. Should you tell him? Could you trust him enough to know that he won't take advantage of knowing where starlight likes to hide at night and run back to tell his father in an attempt of redemption? You would be giving the perfect salvation plan.

“Maybe we don't have too.” You pulled away, standing up with your hand outstretched to him. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

It was a huge leap of faith, trusting a Lee. But if Minho bawling his eyes out in the middle of the night over not wanting to slaughter dragons wasn’t enough of an indication of how different Minho was to them then you really were as blind and as thick-headed as a ground mole.

192 notes · View notes