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#thts why
ellblueb · 1 year
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"Longing"
This piece took SO LONG TO MAKE. I've been working on it since before my birthday... But it's done. AND IT LOOKS SO GOOD. I love him sm (,,,,:
Time spent: 40 HOURS
Layers used: 950??????
Made during: May 10th, 2023.
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kesopan · 4 months
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a bunch of shen yuan doodles (ft. binghe)
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deftoons · 10 months
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Alright, yeah. Maybe we could just get together and eat a bunch of caramels. MATT DAMON as WILL HUNTING GOOD WILL HUNTING (1997) dir. gus van sant
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anissapierce · 8 months
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Its kinda remarkable tht regardless of fandom the sole Black character of the group is always presented in fandom as the token straight, occasionally fandom will spice it up n say the character is ace or aro or aroace
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scourge-sympathiser · 1 month
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SCOURGE SUNDAY 028/???
transmogrified into physical reality
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lemongogo · 1 year
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this vash im drawing rn sorry im too excited 2 wait ,i love him so much I LOVE HIMM
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nateezfics · 6 months
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bylertruther · 2 years
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people who think will byers hates himself for being gay when will byers is one of the very few characters on the show that has refused to change himself to fit anyone else's idea of what he should be despite the fact that people, including his own father, have been harassing, bullying, and abusing him for it literally his entire fucking life are just...... so weird.
will's entire POINT is that he will survive and brave whatever you throw his way against all odds and come out on the other side of it still clutching on to his sense of self and hope that tomorrow will be a better day. the entire point of his character is that he loves what he loves without apology or shame.
he sings "that weird song he loves" in the middle of hell because it reminds him of his brother and offers him comfort in a place where there is none. he creates art because he loves it and doesn't care if it isn't something boys do, then he gifts it to his friends because he loves them and wants them to know it, too. he loves dnd and writes campaigns and dresses up for them because they bring him joy and he just wants to spend time with his friends even if they think they're "too cool" for it now.
he knows that sometimes it's harder than it should be to be gay in a homophobic society and has been harassed for that literally his entire fucking life it's LITERALLY how they introduce him to us not even twenty minutes into this fucking show and YET !!!!!!! he doesn't back away from that. ever.
he gets picked on for his clothes, but he doesn't change them. he gets called names, but he doesn't make any attempt to conform. his best friend, the boy that he's in love with and his very first friend ever, tells him it isn't his fault that he doesn't like girls and shamefully asks him if he really thought they were going to play games together in his basement for the rest of their lives and never get girlfriends, and what does will do?
he says yeah. i guess i did. i really did.
will faces all of that and goes to a new place where he has the golden opportunity of a clean slate, and what does he do? when assigned to do a presentation on his hero... he picks alan turing of all people. and when his brother later on tells him that he loves him no matter what, essentially giving him the It's Okay To Be Gay I Love You So Much And Always Will talk, still there is no denial on will's part here either.
will has NEVER, EVER denied being gay. he has NEVER tried to change that part of himself. he has ALWAYS stood tall and braved another day even when it was scary and hard. he has ALWAYS remained true to himself even though that has only ever made his life that much harder.
he said that sometimes he feels like a mistake for being so different from other people, but that being loved and accepted makes him feel like he isn't one at all and like he's better for being different and that gives him the courage to fight on.
literally what the fuck are you guys on about when you talk about will being self-hating for being gay. where is the canonical evidence for that? and more than that, why are you so keen on throwing away all of his acts of bravery and the sheer fucking strength of character that he's had since the very beginning? it would've been so much easier for him to conform, to be the "man" that everyone has always pushed him to be, but he doesn't ever do that. he stays true to himself no matter what. so, again, where the hell are these self-hating receipts?!
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sipsteainanxiety · 1 year
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holding out (just for you) [3] || katsuki b.
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pairing: dragon!bakugo katsuki x reader
word count: 12.9k+
mentions: female reader, fantasy au, near death experience, descriptions of injuries (blood, some light gore, nausea, poisoning wrt reader), not completely revised akhdfg, aged up chars (24+), sfw, second pov, part of the bnha big bang collab!
with art drawn by the talented @your-fellow-passerine!! here is a link to the original post (give it some love!!!!) <33
side note: there had been some confusion wrt the ending of ch2 when i had posted it so im here to say that bkg did not leave LOL.
masterlist part two
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You had a feeling for a while now that Bakugo didn’t like being indebted to you. 
You picked it up from some of his more subtle mannerisms whenever you brought him food or spent hours on end healing him. You didn’t mind, you really didn’t, and you tried telling him as much. But well, if there was one thing you learned about him over all these months, it was that he was a stubborn bastard (and he knew that, too). He could be grumpy all he wanted, though—it wasn’t like you were going to stop.
One day, you were just finishing up on healing the wound near his eye when he decided to puff a small bit of smoke directly into your face. Your nose scrunched slightly as you waved away the cloud with a hand and looked into his eye expectantly. He was lucky his smoke smelled kind of good; you don’t think you would have tolerated him doing it so often if it didn’t. “Need something?”
He made a deep rumble and lifted his head up, your hands dropping away from it as he jerked his chin towards his back. You looked at it curiously. “Oh, do you want me to heal—” 
He cut you off with a light growl and shake of his head. You could only watch him dumbly, not quite understanding even as he appeared to get a bit irritated. He gestured to his back again and gave his wings a little flap, then looked pointedly down at you with another huff. 
“Oh!” You brightened as his actions seemed to click together in your head. “You wanna go somewhere?” He let out a snort and lowered his head to give you a gentle nudge with the tip of his nose. “With me?” A puff of caramel-scented smoke and quick nod was all the confirmation you needed. “Sure, we’ve got time.” The sun wouldn’t set for a while. You stepped around him to tug on your bag and head over to his back, your eyes moving to look for somewhere you could sit atop him. It wouldn’t be an issue if he didn’t have all those spikes in the way. 
Just as the thought crossed your mind, though, Bakugo lowered himself closer to the ground. After a short moment that had you raising an eyebrow at him, he retracted his spikes completely into his body. You stared at his smooth back for a second, then looked at him with bewilderment painted across your features. He avoided your gaze a bit, then flicked his eyes towards you. “Wow! Since when could you do that?!” He only snorted as a response. 
It took a bit of shimmying to crawl your way up Bakugo’s back—his scales were warm like an hearth under your palms and slightly slippery as though coated in a light layer of oil—but you eventually managed to nestle yourself in the crook where his neck met his back. Your legs dangled down from the sides of his neck in a way that reminded you of riding a horse—except your thighs were forced to spread apart much wider. You were going to be sore as all hell tomorrow.  
You rested your hands lightly on his neck in front of you and looked up to see him peering back at you, one slitted, crimson eye sharply trained on your form. You gave him a thumbs up, doing your best to ignore the butterflies fluttering away in your stomach. Were you really about to do this? “Ready!” You guessed you were.
Bakugo chuffed and turned back around as the muscles in his back rolled beneath you. It was an entirely different experience being on top of him as he prepared to take off. Part of you kind of preferred to be on the ground—watching—instead. Your heart shot up to your throat when his wings gave two massive flaps somewhere behind you, and you leaned forward to wrap your arms around his thick neck as much as you could, practically cementing your body against him. 
“Ohhh my goddd,” you choked out, holding on for dear life as he leapt up into the air in a sudden, quick motion and flew up, and up, and up. Your stomach lurched, your hair whipped around sporadically. You almost didn’t want to look down, but you did, and you gaped in amazement as the clearing got smaller and smaller. The forest turned into an indecipherable ocean of green and if you looked to your left, you could see the small houses and buildings that made up Yuuei. 
Bakugo eventually leveled off and started heading in the direction of Mount Kamino. Since his movements were less rocky than they were while he was climbing up into the air, you were able to somewhat let go of his neck to sit yourself up. The wind pushed your hair back and stung at your eyes from being this high, but it wasn’t unbearable. You breathed in deeply, the crisp air filling your lungs, then exhaled it all in a relieved sigh. The warmth of the gleaming sun to your left and the coolness of being at this altitude contrasted against each other, but you felt nothing but the heat radiating from the dragon beneath you.
You stared around in wonder, the vast expanse of blue that stretched on until it reached the silver lining of the horizon. You felt like you could get lost in all that blue, unable to tell left from right or forward from backward. The thought made you suppress a small shiver and you turned your attention to the puffy, white clouds that Bakugo soared by—you couldn’t help but reach out to them, humorously imagining that you could just snatch a chunk off to hold in your hand. 
If you peeked down at the Earth, you could see the moment when the grey of Mount Kamino met the thick forest that surrounded it. Some distance away, you could see Lake Might—a mirror in the ground that felt like a portal to another universe. That you could fall through and end up in another sky not unlike this one. Your eyes moved to skim over the face of the mountain, locating a familiar dark cave atop an equally as familiar slope.
You felt, more than heard, the rumble that quaked through Bakugo’s chest. You raised your head to look at him; he’d turned his head slightly to peer at you from the corner of a glowing, ruby eye. 
“This is amazing!” You laughed out, a silly grin on your slowly numbing face. He snorted and returned his gaze to the front. Where you both were going, you didn’t know, but you trusted him.
You got so lost in watching the green ground pass below you—the way Bakugo’s shadow drifted across the clouds he soared above—that when he started to decelerate and tilted himself downwards, you blinked in surprise. There was a large clearing atop a plateau that he circled around once before he dropped himself down onto it in a smooth landing. You hardly felt yourself get jostled around. He puffed out some smoke and crouched his legs so you could slide off his back, your thighs only slightly sore for now. 
You straightened out your clothes and looked around to see where he’d taken you. It really was just a regular clearing. You wandered away from him and crouched down by a flower sticking out from tall blades of grass. A familiar, cerulean-colored flower, with petals shaped in the form of a star and leaves that reminded you of the hearts Denki would sometimes doodle on the sides of your drink containers. Your jaw dropped open. 
“Zeniths!” you exclaimed as you picked said flower and jumped to your feet so you could spin around to face Bakugo. He was watching you quietly, his eyes flicking down to the Zenith as you scurried closer to him to brandish it eagerly. “You found a clearing!! Shit, look at all this!” You waved your hand out at the seemingly endless field covered in cerulean flowers. “This is enough to last me years!” You turned back to look at him with a wide smile that made the apples of your cheeks hurt. “Thank you! Truly.”
For a moment, all he did was stare down at you. Then he snorted out some smoke into your face and turned his head to look away in a random direction. You only laughed at his reaction and jogged off to start collecting as many Zeniths as you could. You’d have to remember where this clearing was for the future—maybe you could come back on your own.
You took your time to carefully pluck and bundle the Zeniths, wrapping their stems together with string so you could stash them in your bag. At one point, you looked around to see what Bakugo was up to and saw that he’d taken to the skies again—you hadn’t even noticed when he’d lifted off, so absorbed in your work. He was steadily circling around the plateau, clearly enjoying himself, in his own way. 
You wandered over to a particularly rough, bumpy, patch of the plateau and knelt down to gather the Zeniths there. But you paused, for a short second, as you felt a faint tremor through the soles of your shoes. You slowly stood up and waited to see if there would be another, your eyes latched onto the gently swaying grass and flowers below you. One second, two seconds—a faint shake. Three seconds, four seconds. The ground shifted. You furrowed your eyebrows.
And then the Earth erupted beneath your feet.
You let out a yelp as you tumbled backwards onto the grass and dirt, your brain not fully processing what was happening. Your reflexes kicked into overdrive when you noticed a large, dark shadow shoot towards your disoriented form, and you were just barely able to toss yourself to the side to avoid it. A large jaw snapped near your head, missing it by inches. You rolled, heart picking up a frantic beat when you heard a low, raspy hissing. From your periphery, something grey and scaley—covered with flecks of brown and green—gyrated at your side and sunk back into the ground. You stared at where it had disappeared, the Earth a mess of overturned soil that quivered for a second before it stilled. 
You swallowed thickly, breaths bated, and slowly picked yourself up from the ground. You kept your eyes locked on the area around you. And you listened. And you waited. You were scared to take a further step for fear of disturbing the odd silence that had befallen the field, but you forced yourself to slowly inch away from your spot. You licked at your dry lips, a foreboding feeling settling in your chest. Your fingers trembled into fists.
This time, when the ground exploded in a monstrous plume of dirt and grass, you let out a piercing scream and whipped yourself around so you could run. 
Keep your gaze low, you panicked to yourself as you pumped your legs as fast as you could. The terra basilisk let out a hiss that you could hear over your palpitating heart. Its large shadow lunged towards you again. You yelped and dove to the side, a pain bursting along your upper right arm as your hands scraped against rock and rough patches of soil. Still, you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t. You scrambled up and sprinted off towards some trees you could see in the distance, not giving yourself the time to rest for fear of what would become of you if you did. 
You could hear the way the basilisk snaked across the ground after you, the way it dove deep into the soil once more to leave you for a terrifyingly quiet minute. The ground shook minutely behind you, before all went still. You didn’t dare look back to see where it was, keeping your eyes locked on a point in front of you. A crisp pain was starting to manifest itself in your side, just under your ribs. Your breaths came out in quick gasps. 
Still, you ran. 
A column of dirt burst forth into the air to your right. You yelped and ducked down as you lunged to the left to avoid the dark, snapping maw that descended upon your head like the hand of death itself. But just as you pivoted to sprint in a direction opposite of the hole the basilisk had emerged from, your foot slipped on something—made it twist sharply and suddenly. You barely had time to throw out your hands to catch yourself as you went plunging towards the grass. Before you could hit the ground, however, something slammed into your side. 
Hard. 
It threw off your momentum—knocked you into the air—a choked gasp leaving your chapped lips as you soared blindly in a direction you couldn’t make out. Your hair whipped around your face, your eyes scrunched closed as though to brace yourself. You hit the ground with a rough thud and rolled through grass and dirt that tangled around your hair and limbs. Sticks and stones scratched at your clothes, your skin. Your head swam with the motion of skidding across the Earth in a seemingly never-ending whirlwind. A rough grunt escaped your mouth when you finally, finally, felt your back collide with something rough. It forced the wind right out of you—caused a throbbing pain to radiate across your torso. You crumpled into a heap, the energy sapped out of you like a sponge wrung dry.
And through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you heard a thundering, soul-encompassing, roar. 
It reverberated through your very bones, sunk deep into your chest and made your heart skip a beat. You could barely even move. The hammering in your head, along your back, was debilitating. Your lips trembled with the pained groans you wanted to release. The dirt felt cool against your overheating cheeks. You kept your eyes shut tightly, unwilling to look up for fear of meeting the yellowed eyes of the basilisk. All you could do was curl into a ball and listen to the snarls and growls in the near distance. Feel a sudden, sweltering heat that washed along your exposed skin—accompanied by a deep, deep rumble. You bit at the inside of your cheek and pressed your forehead further into the Earth in the hopes that it would swallow you whole.
A shrieking hiss. A vicious snarl. The sound of flesh tearing apart. The steady flapping of large wings that got fainter and fainter and fainter, until all you could hear was the gentle rustling of leaves above you. Peaceful, almost, in a way that made you feel sick. Grass tickled at your neck. Your back throbbed at the slightest of movements.
In the far, far distance, there was a faint crack that was followed by the shrill chirps and caws of birds as they fluttered up into the sky. 
You don’t know how long you lay there, your consciousness flickering in and out like a candle fighting to stay lit in a storm. Your eyes fluttered as you struggled desperately against the encroaching darkness that threatened to pull you under. Eventually, you were jolted awake by a thud somewhere near you that you could feel through the ground. For a moment, your heart stuttered in your chest, worried that the creature behind the impact was one with grey, scaly skin and yellow eyes. But then something gently nudged at your right side. Hot air fanned out over your body, ruffling your hair. There was a familiar, quiet rumbling sound that only became more insistent when you didn’t move. 
You released the groan you’d been choking on and started to shift so you could push yourself up. Your back immediately protested, practically screaming at you to lay down once more. But you couldn’t—you knew you couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted to close your eyes and simply rest. You needed to check the stinging pain you felt on your upper arm, the tenderness in your ankle.  
With muscles tenser than you’d ever felt them before, you propped yourself up on your palms and moved your legs until you were in a crawling position. You blinked hazily down at the dirt and grass beneath you, your chest moving as you took slow, steady breaths in the hopes that they would get rid of the spots of black that lingered across your vision. Bakugo let out a chuff near your head and nudged you again until you shifted, painstakingly slow. God, everything hurts. 
You managed to sit yourself up and lean back against the tree you’d slammed into, your legs extended before you. Just doing that simple action made your head swing dangerously. Inhale, then exhale. You shivered at the gentle breeze that drifted through the air. You closed your eyes for a second, then reopened them to gaze blearily up at Bakugo hovering in front of you. Worried, it seemed, if the way he was chuffing close to your face was any indication. Something dark burgundy was smeared across his mouth, coated his fangs. You swallowed thickly and forced down the sudden nausea you felt crawling up your throat. Bakugo watched you carefully for a moment, then his pink tongue darted out to lick at his maw in a quick motion. You let out a quiet sigh. 
“Did it nick you?” you croaked out once your nerves had settled, your tongue like lead in your mouth. Bakugo huffed out his irritation and nudged your shoulder pointedly. You let out a weak laugh. “Yeah, I should… focus on myself, huh?” Your left hand reached across your chest to press your palm against the stinging part of your upper arm. When you pulled it away, it was coated in crimson—though it was much darker than you’d expected it to be. And when you turned your head in an attempt to peer at the wound, you saw that it was tinged with an inky black. Your stomach dropped. No wonder you were feeling so lightheaded and clammy. 
“Fuck, it got me,” you rasped and pressed the back of your hand to your forehead. It felt warm. You needed to do something, and you needed to do it fast. Bakugo made a low whine as your eyes darted around the grass surrounding you. There were a few Zeniths swaying lazily back and forth a few feet to your left. Perfect. You took a deep breath to brace yourself, then shifted back onto your knees so you could crawl closer to the cerulean flowers. Your back pulsed hotly—you winced and struggled to push through the pain for the brief seconds it took you to reach out and snatch them up in a clumsy hand. 
Bakugo followed you with his head, puffing near your body as he kept an eye on you. The light around you was starting to… look strange. Almost like you were underwater. That couldn’t be good. You sat on your calves and promptly stuffed the Zeniths into your mouth, your jaw working furiously as you chewed them into a paste. It wasn’t the best method of execution to get them to the state you needed, but well, it would have to do. They tasted like… nothing, really. Maybe the vague hint of something that reminded you of honeydew.
You were lucky—really fucking lucky—that you were surrounded by the right flora to aid in healing your injuries and slowing down the spread of the basilisk poison. You dared not ruminate on the dark implications of the plateau housing other… less useful plants. 
You did your best to wipe the blood on your palm on the grass near your knees. There was no time to waste—you couldn’t spare the minutes it would take to get your arm to stop bleeding. As you spat the murky green mush in your mouth onto your left hand and smoothed it roughly over the gash on your upper arm, you felt Bakugo insistently nudge the side of your head. The puffs of air from his nostrils fanned gently against your cheek and tickled your neck. You glanced over to him with an inquisitive hum. Once your attention was on him, he lowered his head so he could nose at the hand clutching at your arm, pointedly huffing at it. His scales felt cool, almost, against your hot skin. That definitely couldn’t be good. 
“What?” you asked confusedly when Bakugo continued his actions. He let out a low rumble and nudged a bit harder at your hand, but you were lost as to what he was trying to say. “I don’t…” you trailed off, blinking heavily at him. You felt tired. You didn’t have the time for this. Bakugo huffed out his irritation and lifted his head away from you so you could see the white glow of his fire at the base of his neck. But instead of releasing it, he let the glow fade and exhaled a cloud of dark smoke. He then leaned towards you again so he could nose at your hands. 
“Your… fire? My hands…?” you mumbled to yourself, trying to get your foggy brain to work enough to piece things together. What did they have in common? Was there anythi— “Oh!” you exclaimed as things clicked together. “My— my magic?” 
Bakugo rumbled and leaned away from you so he could give you an expectant look—though there was something to it that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something that made your insides twist with guilt. He was antsy, you realized, as you spotted the way his tail undulated almost frenziedly behind him. The way his unsheathed spikes bristled along his tensed spine. You bit at the inside of your cheek and turned your gaze away from him so you could inspect your wound. The Zenith mush was just enough to cover it entirely. Good. It wouldn’t take too long for the Zeniths to take effect—but you needed to get back to your cottage soon. You had more effective treatments you could administer there that would help get rid of the encroaching fever and chills. 
You cleared your parched throat and finally looked back at him impatiently waiting. “I ah, forgot to mention that my magic… it doesn’t really work on me.” You didn’t think your avoidance of telling him such information in the cave would come back to bite you in the ass, but here you were. You grimaced when he let out a low growl, his eyes slitting into thin slices. “You were being defensive when you saw— What was I supposed to do? Look”—you took a deep breath in an attempt to reorient yourself—“never mind that. We— We have to get back to my cottage.”
Bakugo made a sound from deep within his chest as you looked away from him and down at your shirt. You still felt lightheaded and your body felt like you’d just stepped out of a funeral pyre. It was exhausting. Focus, you had to focus. After doing your best to wipe the Zenith mush off of your hand, you made quick work out of tearing off a piece of the bottom of your shirt. You wrapped it around your upper arm as tightly as you could, wincing as you used your teeth to help you tie a knot that rested on top of your wound. Fuck, it was sloppy, but it would have to do until you got back home. At least the pain had simmered down to a dull throb.
“Okay.” You nodded to yourself and slowly shifted your legs around until you were in a crouching position. Leaning most of your weight on your uninjured ankle, you paused to take a small breath, then pushed yourself up. 
Immediately, your back spasmed—a sudden and ferocious thing that made you yelp and lurch forward in a reflexive attempt to curl in on yourself. You caught yourself on something in front of you that shifted underneath your torso and poked your stomach. It felt like you could hardly even move. Once you blinked away the darkness that tinged the edges of your vision, you found yourself hanging off the shimmering gold of Bakugo’s snout—practically leaning your entire weight on top of him. Slitted crimson eyes zeroed in on your perspiring face. 
“Shit, sorry,” you gasped out, eyebrows scrunched together as you waited for your back pain to settle down to a dull ache once more. Bakugo let out a rumble and a small puff of smoke that you felt caress the sides of your face. It was strangely… comforting, you guessed. Once you’d managed to collect yourself, you eased yourself off of him, one of your hands delicately resting on the scales of his left cheek as you grimaced down at your ankle. 
The boots you were wearing were thick enough that you were certain your ankle wasn’t dealing with an injury that was too dire. But still, as you tentatively shifted some of your weight onto it, you couldn’t help wincing as it gave a sharp throb. Broken, no, but it was definitely tender—maybe sprained. You sighed. 
“Les’go,” you told Bakugo as you clumsily stepped forward in the direction of his wings, your back hunched slightly to stave off any more spasms. You raised an arm to wipe it across your warm face. If you didn’t make any sudden movements and kept your back tilted, then you could somewhat hobble around. Somewhat. Bakugo puffed out some smoke and lowered himself so that he was resting flat on the ground, his spikes retracting once more. He kept a slitted eye on you, warily watching as you approached his shoulder. 
It took you longer than you would’ve liked to admit to shimmy your way onto his back. The slightest movements in the wrong direction would cause your back to pulse or your ankle to twinge. Bakugo rumbled an anxious little sound as he attempted to help you, the muscles of his back and front leg shifting underneath your scratched up palms to make the incline up his side easier to crawl across. 
As soon as you settled on top of his nape, he gave you one last glance before immediately taking off. You nearly tumbled off him with the force of his jump, your grip around his neck tightening. His wings moved at a rapid pace. The wind stung at your eyes. You grimaced when your back throbbed and leaned forward until your front rested against his neck. His scales felt a bit warmer now where they were pressed against your cheek—that meant the Zeniths were working. Good.
In the far distance, away from the plateau, you caught a glimpse of something long and grey laying on the ground. Terrifyingly still. It made something foul twist its way through your chest. You closed your eyes and lost yourself to the beating of Bakugo’s wings.
You woke up abruptly, your body jostling harshly in a way that made you bolt upright. You regretted it once your back protested angrily, a pained hiss escaping your lips as one of your hands pressed itself somewhere against your lower lumbar region. You felt groggy—sluggish—but at least you were cognizant. A rumble somewhere in front of you made you look up to see Bakugo watching you carefully, his pupil flicking to your hand pressed to your body. And it was then that you realized you were both on the ground—not in the sky. That was fast. 
He’d taken you straight to your cottage instead of the forest clearing, you noticed, as you glanced around. The space you had around it wasn’t large enough to accommodate him. He was mostly standing on top of the soil you used for your garden—you’d cleaned out the area a long time ago. You just hadn’t had the chance to plant anything yet, with all the medicinal responsibilities you were in charge of. He’d tucked his wings close to his body and made himself as small as possible—though even then it was barely enough. It certainly didn’t seem comfortable.
By now the sun had started to creep its way to the horizon, its light painting the walls of your cottage a rich honey color. Slipping off Bakugo’s back was certainly easier than the whole ordeal of clambering on top of it, though once your feet hit the ground you grimaced at the simultaneous waves of pain that radiated through your back and ankle. You mumbled something to Bakugo—a thanks, maybe, you weren’t quite sure—and stumbled your way towards your front door. 
As you reached behind you to grab your key from your bag, you startled slightly when your hand met nothing but air. A quick glance around you let you know it was nowhere in sight. You slapped a hand against your face and let out a groan. You hadn’t even noticed it was gone. Bakugo made a questioning sound in reply—you could hear him shifting closer behind you, feel the hot air that left his nose as you turned around to see his head hovering over you. He’d curled into an even tighter ball, now that you’d gotten off his back. 
“Dropped my bag back at the plateau,” you told him wearily with a sigh. You already didn’t particularly like the prospect of going back there, but well… you really needed those Zeniths. It didn’t help the bubbling, anxious feeling in your gut, though. This was a problem for another day, you decided. “We’ll grab it later,” you mumbled offhandedly and turned back around so you could clumsily swipe the spare key you kept hidden in a flower pot to the side of the door. 
You shuffled inside once the door opened, making a beeline for one of the wooden chairs you had by the table of salves and creams. You collapsed onto it heavily and grumbled when your back gave a sharp pang. There was the sound of huffing and shifting from outside that you paid no mind to for the time being, instead focused on easing your boots from your feet. A groan escaped your lips once you managed to free your aching ankle and a quick inspection of it after you slipped your sock off showed that it was swollen. Great. 
You were lucky that you had some supplies on the table from the last person you’d treated earlier in the day—just thinking about needing to walk over to your bedroom closet to grab them made your ankle pulse with another wave of pain. 
But first—the wound on your arm. 
You made quick work out of unwrapping the bloody piece of cloth from your upper arm, grimacing when it peeled wetly off your wound. You had to awkwardly twist your arm towards you and crane your neck so you could inspect it. The Zenith mush had mostly been absorbed already, eradicating the black tinge of the poison and leaving nothing but the fresh red of blood. You pressed the back of your hand against your forehead and slumped your shoulders in relief at the steadily decreasing temperature. You felt marginally better, certainly, but there was still work to be done. 
You began the tedious process of cleaning your arm up and slathering a poison-specialized salve over the gash to ensure that it wouldn’t still be in your system. You craved nothing more than to just lay in the comfort of your bed, to sleep off the aches and pains—or attempt to, at least. But you couldn’t, not yet. You let out a sigh as you tightened a roll of bandages around your arm and fastened a knot directly over the wound once more. At least you felt cleaner—albeit marginally. 
From outside, you heard Bakugou make a low whining sound that pulled you out of your focus. You lifted your gaze to see him peering at you through your open door. He couldn’t fit his head through the entryway—it was too big—so he had to settle on watching you through one of his eyes, the pupils slitted to make way for gleaming crimson. Once he saw you were looking at him, he chuffed and glanced up and down your seated form. 
“Almost done, it’s okay,” you murmured—to reassure him or yourself, you would never know. You shuffled through some of the ointments on your table until you found a pale pink one. Uncapping the jar, you swiped your fingers through the paste and lifted your shirt slightly so you could spread it lightly across your back. It was a bit cool—room temperature, you knew—and you did your best to cover all the areas that twinged and panged whenever you moved in the wrong way. Bakugo rumbled again and shifted outside your little cottage. Antsy still, you assumed. 
It wasn’t until you were finished coating and tightly wrapping up your ankle that you finally breathed out a sigh in relief. You wiped your hands off on your shirt—you’d need to trash it anyways, with how it was ripped at the bottom—and tentatively stood up from your chair so you could test how much weight you could place on your ankle. It still ached, and your back protested when you straightened up, but they were both much more manageable than they were before. At least you could walk without limping too heavily. 
You made your way over to the open doorway, painstakingly slow, and stopped just before it, bracing one of your hands against the frame. Bakugo huffed out a bit of smoke and raised his head up and away so you could step outside slightly and look up at him. 
“I’ll be fine,” you told him when it became apparent he was waiting for you to say something. He snorted and lowered himself so he could inspect your arm. The hot puffs of air from his nose fanned out along your exposed skin and made a shiver run down your spine. He gently nudged your side until you lifted a hand to rest it on his nose. Your thumb smoothed over the scales there, as though you could make them gleam brighter than they already were. He let out a quiet sound—soft enough that it nearly blended in with the rustling leaves and chirping insects.
You glanced up at the sky—the deep navy that intertwined with the last bits of tangerine from the sun—then at Bakugo, who still looked way too large for your little garden space. “It’s getting late. I need to rest and you need to head back to your own clearing for the night.”
At that, Bakugo made a low rumble and pulled away so he could properly look down at you. He seemed to curl himself into a tighter ball—nestled himself more comfortably in front of your cottage. You raised an eyebrow at him. “You can’t stay here,” you said slowly, but even then he only let out a huff and curled his tail around himself like he was going to sleep there. “No, Bakugo, seriously, you’re too big for this clearing. There’s no way you’ll be comfortable for the night.” 
He didn’t agree with you, it seemed, for he bared his teeth at you in a move that you supposed was to be threatening—but it wasn’t anymore. Not to you. He growled, but you only crossed your arms over your chest and lifted your chin as you held eye contact with one of his slitted, gemstone-like eyes. 
Stubborn bastard, you thought sourly when his gaze didn’t waver after a few moments of silence. Believe it or not, it was actually rather difficult to uphold a glare with a dragon—who knew. But you couldn’t be mad at him for wanting to stay, not really. His intentions behind it made your gaze soften as you let out a halfhearted sigh. 
“Okay, fine,” you acquiesced, your shoulders slumping. “But we really can’t stay here.” He wouldn’t be comfortable and you didn’t want to risk him getting caught camping out in front of your cottage—it would be too much to deal with if you had to explain. You chewed on the inside of your lip as you weighed your options, then tiredly rubbed the bridge of your nose. “Hang on.”
Bakugo made a rumbling sound as you turned around to shuffle back into your home—curious, perhaps, as to what you were doing. You slipped into your bedroom and grabbed a spare blanket from the closet that you tossed onto your bed. Then you rummaged around for some clean clothes and headed over to your bathroom so you could clean up. You grimaced at your reflection in the small, dinky mirror you had—dirt was smeared across your face, scratches littered your skin, and your hair was a mess of bits of grass and leaves. You’d seen better days, that was for sure.
You were quick with doing your best to scrub away all the dirt and tending to some of the deeper scratches on your face and palms. The clean clothes you tugged on made you feel better—fresher—and you swiped away the hair from your face as you tossed your ruined clothes in a corner of your little bathroom to deal with later. You grabbed the blanket you’d dropped onto your bed and shuffled back to the entrance, casting your gaze around the small space of your cottage before you closed the door and hid the spare key back in its flower pot once more.
“Alright,” you said once you turned around to look at Bakugo. He eyed the blanket overflowing in your arms like a cascading waterfall, then puffed out a cloud of smoke. “Let’s go, then.” 
You’d been prepared to make the painstakingly slow journey to his clearing on your own—a process that likely would’ve gotten more difficult as the last vestiges of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon—but it seemed like Bakugo had caught on to what you were doing. He snorted and lowered himself down to the soil-covered ground in front of you, tilting his body so you would have an easier time clambering atop his back. You gave him a smile and did as expected, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck with the blanket smushed underneath you.
His clearing wasn’t far from your cottage—it felt like you’d arrived within two or three flaps of his large wings. Bakugo landed smoothly on the ground and lowered himself so you could clumsily slide off of him. Your back gave a slight twinge, but at least it was much more manageable than it had been before. You patted his side as a thanks and picked your way over to the center of the clearing.
Seems comfy enough, you thought to yourself as you spread your blanket over the ground, patting down any particularly lumpy areas. Then you eased yourself onto it and let out a sigh as you crossed your hands behind your head and stared up at the inky sky. Splatters of white winked at you through the heavens, intermingled with specks of blood red and sunshine yellow. It was just light enough to be able to see, though the moon had yet to show its full face. You could sense the steadily cooling air as it settled across your skin. Maybe you should have brought another blanket.
You could feel, through the ground pressed against your back, the heavy steps Bakugo took as he circled around you. The vibrations made the hairs on your arms stand up—seemed to reverberate through your entire body. You craned your neck up and to the side to watch him settle around you in a crescent moon. He yawned widely, then nestled his head somewhere to your right atop his front legs. You lifted yourself up partially to look at him lying behind you—if you shimmied yourself back by a foot or so, you could rest your head on the smooth scales that made up his underbelly. 
So you did, awkwardly shuffling backwards until your upper body came into contact with the hearth-esque warmth that he radiated from his stomach. He chuffed gently as you made yourself comfortable, wrapping your blanket snugly around yourself like you were the filling in a flaky pastry. From the corner of your vision, you could see something dark curl closer towards you in a manner that made you tense up—his tail (not a snake, no, you breathed easily). 
You relaxed into him and stared up at the sky that was soon obscured by one of his large wings as it sloped over your head. “Happy now?” you murmured, quiet in the open clearing, but loud enough that he heard and made a soft rumble that you felt through his chest. You listened—for a moment—to the sounds of his gentle breathing, the rustling leaves, and the chirping insects, then closed your eyes.
And there—surrounded by the chilly night air, the cold grass that tickled at your skin—you felt warm.
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There was a noticeable shift, in the following weeks, regarding the way Bakugo behaved around you. It was so stark—so different—from the way he’d previously been that it was impossible to not pick up on it.   
He started hovering over your cottage during the day—you noticed him through your little window more often than not. He sometimes landed upon the barren area of your garden while you were tending to things inside and peered a giant, crimson eye through the front door you left open for him. You let him so as he pleased for a day or two, but he couldn’t keep lingering around your home—you often had visitors, and you knew it would not bode well for you nor him if he stayed. You worried about the unspoken consequences. 
You told him just as much, but he was still unbearingly stubborn. However, he seemed to understand, albeit reluctantly, and toned down his visits… not by much, though.
In fact, he started flying around Yuuei more—looping around it in a massive circle whenever you were conveniently there for medicinal work or errands. You wondered how he knew when you were in the village, but figured it was easy enough for him to fly over your cottage and see if you were home or not. You did find that you still had a difficult time walking around properly—you were sore and had to use a spare cane in your closet for long treks. You supposed he was just keeping an eye on you, but well, you think you preferred him lingering around your cottage more so than this. It was startling—and a bit ominous to those who didn’t know him (that is, the entire village)—to see him flying so close. Especially since he hadn’t bothered to beforehand. He was not a bird in the sky, but rather he was close enough that you could see the way the tangerine and black markings on his scales absorbed the sunlight that gleamed off him like a shiny coin.
You had to admit, the shadow he cast upon the Earth—large enough to block out the sun and cover people in a darkness that felt just a bit too cold—was more than a bit terrifying. You were sure the villagers were uneased by his presence; you saw the looks on their faces, the way they would keep glancing up at the sky. Wonder and amazement had been replaced by anxiety and trepidation with a beat of his wings.
(“Is it scoping us out?” one villager whispered to another as they lingered under the awning of a shop—hoping the covering would conceal and protect them. “What does it want? My kids think it’s cool but they don’t understand the danger.”
“Mmmh, I don’t know,” the other replied, fidgeting with the bag they grasped in white-knuckled hands. “I hope it’s not… hungry…”) 
You grew antsy—nervous—at the whispers, but you knew if you told Bakugo to stop for the reasons you were thinking of, he would brush off your concerns. He was a dragon—he was strong enough to handle himself but… you knew he would not be unscathed if anyone particularly powerful came along. His still-healing wounds were evidence enough.
Something, however, that struck you a little odd was when you encountered Izuku whilst heading over to treat one of your patients in Yuuei. 
He’d been carrying what seemed like half of the village’s record collection when you—quite literally—ran into him. A waterfall of leather-bound books and scrolls tumbled to the paved ground. You stumbled back a bit, fumbling with your cane and bag of herbs and salves. Apologies spewed out of your mouth until you realized they were being mirrored by a rather familiar voice. Looking up, you were greeted with the sight of curly green hair and flushed, freckled cheeks. 
“I-I’m so sorry!” he stammered out, his hands hovering awkwardly over you as he glanced over your figure. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” 
“Izuku, I’m fine,” you told him with a small laugh as you straightened up and brushed away his hands. You hadn’t seen him in a while—he was awfully busy nowadays. With what, you weren’t privy to, but you supposed it wasn’t any of your business, not really. “Are you okay?” 
“I’m good— I ah”—he looked down at his feet and stooped down to start picking up his papers—“I should have been paying more attention to where I was going. Sorry—“ 
“It’s okay, really,” you soothed him again. He had a nasty habit of endlessly apologizing for things that weren’t even his fault. You bent down carefully so you could help him gather his things. One of the scrolls you grabbed had a golden seal that looked rather familiar. But before you could observe it more carefully, Izuku had grabbed it from your hands to stuff into his arms once more. 
“So, what—” Izuku cleared his throat as you stacked some books together. They looked handmade, now that you were close enough to see, and a bit worn from use. “What… happened?” 
“Hm?” You raised an eyebrow at him, then saw he was pointedly looking at the bandages around your ankle that poked out from the bottom of your pants. “Oh! I fell. Got my foot stuck around a tree root, sprained it pretty badly.” There was no way you were going to tell him you got injured while running away from a fucking basilisk. It would bring up the question of how you had escaped and, well… You still didn’t want to expose the odd friendship you had with a dragon. Not even to Izuku—and certainly not in public like this. 
“Ouch.” He grimaced and steadily rose to his feet once he’d picked up his belongings—the ones you didn’t grab, anyways. You used your cane to support most of your weight as you gingerly followed him up and meticulously stacked the books in your own hands onto his arms. “Thanks. Hopefully you feel better soon! I imagine being a healer yourself has its benefits.” 
You chuckled and adjusted your bag over your shoulder—it was a spare. “Yeah it does. I’m at least able to alleviate some of the pain with the salves I have. But anyways, where are you off to with all of that? I could hardly see your face poking over all those scrolls.” 
Izuku brightened, as though he was glad you were curious enough to ask. “Ah, turns out Yuuei’s got an amazing historical archive! Did you know All Might used to live here?” 
“Really?” You knew there was a tribute statue to him at the center of the village, but you didn’t really know much else about the swordsman other than that. He’d been a significantly powerful magic wielder, you think. Pretty unheard of for humans, though his time had been quite a while ago, so you weren’t all too sure. You didn’t care enough to do research.
“Yeah! There’s not really a lot of information about him here, though. I found a singular scroll and a few—“ 
Izuku abruptly cut himself off when a dark shadow passed over both your heads, momentarily dousing you in a coolness that was honestly a bit of a reprieve from the midday sun. You looked up to see Bakugo making his usual rounds about the village. His wings leisurely beat up and down, a sound that seemed so pronounced amongst the quiet bustle of the villagers that surrounded you. If you squinted up at him, you could see his giant, crimson eye surveilling the ground beneath him—it didn’t seem like he had spotted you yet. A small smile pricked at your lips. 
Izuku hummed and called your name, prompting you to look back at him. There was a rather contemplative look on his face, to your slight intrigue. Very ruminative. He was quiet for a moment more, then opened his mouth to speak. “You’ve lived here for a while, right? Have you… ever seen dragons around here before?” His voice was low and sounded… distant. Like he wasn’t exactly with you at the present day. 
You shook your head. “Not really. Why’re you asking?” 
Izuku stayed silent—to the point where you considered leaving him and seeing if he would notice—then seemed to snap out of his thoughts. He blinked a few times, then looked back at you with wide eyes. “Sorry! Gotta go! Can’t keep the missus waiting!” 
You were bemused, but waved him off all the same. He scurried away from you, occasionally glancing up at the sky as he left. Izuku certainly was… quirky, that was for sure. You sighed and looked back up at Bakugo to see him circling around Yuuei once more, a bright, crimson eye trained on your significantly smaller figure. You huffed lightly through your nose and set off to your intended destination. You brushed off Izuku’s strange behavior easily enough. Besides, you had more pressing matters to deal with…
Bakugo was worried, you knew he was. What had happened at the plateau was something you tried not to ruminate upon too heavily, but well, it was hard when your back still ached and your ankle still twinged. If you closed your eyes for too long, you could picture the grey scales of the terra basilisk, hear the slithering sounds it made as it chased you. But you didn’t let it affect you—tried not to. You pressed on and drowned yourself with work—with healing the rest of Bakugo’s wounds and tending to your duties as village healer. It worked, most of the time. You didn’t dare linger—didn’t dare let yourself be on your own in the silence for more than a few moments. 
And maybe Bakugo could see right through you—maybe he could tell you were avoiding addressing things. Maybe that was why he didn’t really leave you alone. 
Now that he knew you were fine with sleeping in his clearing with him, he often wanted you to go there when evening fell. You didn’t mind, not particularly, though you definitely couldn’t go there every single night—you had things to do back at your own cottage. You sometimes got visitors for illnesses that onsetted or exacerbated overnight, so it was always best for you to be at home and ready. You entertained him when you could and drank a special tea you purchased at the market to help you have a dreamless sleep. But it could only work for so long, you knew. It was a problem for the future.
You did, eventually, have to face part of your fears. Bakugo took you back to the plateau a week or so later to retrieve your bag. It was inevitable and you were aware that he had been patiently waiting for you to approach him the entire time. You were reluctant and dragged your feet for quite a while, but eventually you steeled your resolve. You would be fine, you told yourself. You would be fine.
And you were… for the most part. 
The moment your feet came into contact with the grass of the plateau, you felt unsteady. Disconnected. You knew the basilisk had been taken care of and yet, you still felt stifled. Like there was a pillow pressing into your lungs, filling your throat and mouth with cotton. You took a deep breath and picked your way over to your bag, avoiding the overturned patches of grass and dirt. Bakugo trailed behind you like a large, deadly shadow. His head hovered just over your shoulder—so that you could feel the warm puffs of air from his nostrils. It was grounding. 
You wasted no time in snatching up your bag and checking to see that it contained a decent amount of Zenith flowers—there was no need for the entire experience to be a waste. It would make you feel even shittier than you currently did. After stuffing a few more Zeniths into your bag, you clambered back atop Bakugo and let him take you home. That was enough adrenaline to last you a lifetime. You definitely wouldn’t be returning anytime soon… 
He made you stay with him that night again, curling around you as you rested on the ground and stared up at the inky sky. You spent some time pointing out some of the constellations you knew of to him, the cool air hardly noticeable from your position surrounded by the warmth he naturally radiated. You lost yourself in telling him stories that you scrounged up from the deepest depths of your brain, hoping that they would serve you well in distracting your mind from the darker path it wanted to veer towards. 
“—so when Vivithia gave her life to guide those crossing the border to safety, the Gods took the dust from her remains and scattered them across the sky,” you told Bakugo quietly, not daring to break the tranquility of the clearing, “forming the stars we see today. At least, according to legend. It is ultimately a tale of sacrifice—and love, if you think about how her lover was able to survive due to her actions.” 
Bakugo snorted out a puff of dark smoke that you watched dissipate towards the sky, spreading amongst the stars. “There are different versions of the story that I’ve heard, but they all end the same way.” You craned your head back so you could peer at him curiously. “I don’t suppose you have legends like that, do you?” 
He rumbled idly in a way that made you wonder if he was tired. The moonlight gleamed off his scales in a way that made them look opaque—pearly, almost. His eyes, half-lidded from where his head rested on his front legs, were like a pair of smoldering coal, ready to be put out for the night. You returned your gaze to the glistening sky. “Yeah, you probably can’t tell me anyw—” Something caught your eye. 
It was stark against the twinkling whites and deep navy of the night sky—a burnt golden speck that kept getting larger and larger. Bakugo made a noise and shifted when you didn’t say anything else, curious. You tilted your head and sat up, squinting at the speck until it got close enough that you could reach a hand out to touch it. 
“Oh!” you said in pleasant surprise when you felt something graze your fingers. You pulled your hand back closer to your face to inspect the little insect that sat on it. “A lightning bug!” 
The bug was a small thing that radiated light from underneath its fuzzy body. Two large eyes peered at you, its antenna twitching slightly as it crawled along the back of your fingers and hand. It kind of tickled. 
Bakugo huffed in a manner that caused you to look up towards him. It seemed like a small swarm had ventured into the clearing: there were more lightning bugs flying around his head—little specks that brought along some warmth to the coolness of the surrounding forest. Some of the bugs had settled atop his nose and were crawling up along it. You grinned; he didn’t look all too amused. 
“Careful,” you warned him when his lips parted to bare sharp teeth at the insects that scattered around him. “They’re called lightning bugs for a—” One of the bugs grew brighter and brighter until a small bolt fired from it, hitting Bakugo’s nose with a small zap! He jerked his head back—almost in offense—and puffed out a cloud of dark smoke. You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing. “…reason.” 
You smiled and looked around at the dots of warm, honey-colored light that floated around the area. You lay back down on the ground with a sigh. “It’s nice being able to come out in the forest and encounter different kinds of magical fauna, you know?” Your eyes followed a lightning bug as it bumbled across your field of vision. “It’s different from the capital,” you murmured, then frowned, “though actually I… haven’t really seen many fairies around recently. They usually like to cause mischief. I wonder…” 
Bakugo snorted in response and you looked at him to see him resting his head back on the ground. He yawned widely—content with ignoring the lightning bugs for now. It was getting pretty late. You wrapped your blanket around your body and slid closer to his warmth. You spent a moment just watching the flickering golden lights before your vision was obscured by a large, ombré wing. Well, that was a sign as any. You decided not to dwell on things for now. 
“Yeah, time to sleep”—you yawned back at him and closed your eyes—“Good night, Bakugo.” 
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A few weeks later, you were out in the village running your usual errands when you noticed something… strange. 
You would like to say that some of the tension at having Bakugo constantly circling around the village had dissipated by now. Or, at least, you didn’t see as many people nervously glancing up at the sky anymore. It seemed they had just needed to see that he wasn’t much of a threat and in fact didn’t really… do anything to anyone. You supposed time had a hand with easing nerves, but you were sure they were still present—just not as prevalent. 
That being said, it came as a surprise to you when you saw people murmuring to each other in little groups—looking around them as though afraid they might be overheard. You were curious as to what they were conversing about—but well, they weren’t really looking up at the sky so you supposed it wasn’t in relation to Bakugo. He had eased up his circling around the village by now—seeing that you were doing quite better. Your back only twinged when you did sharp motions and you were walking around with just a slight limp—barely noticeable, really, unless someone was looking for it. Though, you were sure Bakugo would be flying around you if he could—you saw him circling around Mount Kamino earlier, perhaps for a change in scenery.
You finally understood what the whispers were about when you passed by the Blacksmith’s shop. 
He was there talking to Aizawa—a tired man with a nasty case of dry eye whom you visited on occasion to supply with special eye drops. It was hard not to notice him, with how heavy-built he was. He loomed significantly over Aizawa, who exchanged curt words with him whilst bathed in his shadow. He looked prepared for a fight, decked out in thick clothing with just as thick silver armor covering every part of his body. A large sword—the blade wider than your head and thrice as long as your own arm—lay sheathed across his back. It made a shiver run down your spine. 
When you walked past them, you were able to see a bracelet strapped to the man’s right wrist. It was made of leather, and sitting atop it was a large jewel. Mellow tangerine in color and very… vibrant. There was something… odd about it. Something that made you feel like a hand had grabbed your insides and twisted them about. But you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it. 
A chanced glance up at the man’s face allowed you to see the pinched glare settled across his features—the scar that marred the left side of it. You averted your gaze before he could notice your staring and scurried down the stone path to a familiar pub. 
The moment you entered through the doors, Denki looked up from where he was cleaning the bartop and dropped the rag in his hands. 
“Did you hear the news!?” he instantly shouted at you, then quieted down significantly at the looks he got from some of his customers lounging around in the booths. 
“Hear it? More like I saw it,” you whispered as you slid onto a stool in front of the bar. You leaned in closer towards him. “What the hell is King Enji doing here?” 
“I have no idea,” Denki whispered back, his golden eyes peering widely into your own, “but Hanta told me he’s staying at his inn, so he’s definitely planning to be here for a bit.” 
“When did he get here, do you know?” You didn’t remember seeing him when you were in the village a few days ago. 
“Earlier today, I think.” He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s when I started hearing people talking about it, anyway. Is it true he looks like he’s about to go to war?” 
You nodded. “Yeah. I just saw him talking to Aizawa about something.” 
Denki snorted. “Aizawa’s not gonna tell him shit, he hates any and all royal families.” 
You let out a pfft. You didn’t blame him, honestly. From what you’ve seen of the royal family of the capital—King Enji’s, in fact—they were… not quite regarded in a good light. “Do we even know what he wants?” 
“No idea,” Denki replied worriedly. He picked back up the rag and started cleaning at a stain—perhaps for something to do with his hands. “But it can’t be anything good.” 
You hummed your agreement, then fell quiet as you ruminated. It was quite odd to see someone like King Enji this far from the capital. He didn’t seem like the type to make such a voyage recreationally; there had to be a reason. The way he was dressed only made that twisted feeling in your stomach more pronounced. You didn’t know how fast news spread across regions, but, well… You weren’t stupid. His appearance—his awfully weaponized appearance—said enough. 
You worried, more than you should—and you knew this worry was not unfounded. You glanced out of one of the windows of Denki’s pub and frowned at the hazy sight of Mount Kamino. Dread seemed to pool in your gut.
You left with a quick farewell to Denki and an excuse that you had more shopping to do. The trek back to your cottage was a bit of a long one, but it went by faster than usual as you hurried down stone paths and kept your eyes peeled for any more glimpses of King Enji. He had disappeared elsewhere—you didn’t know whether to feel relieved or anxious. 
You wondered if Bakugo would even be in his clearing, if he had even gotten back yet from his leisurely roaming, but you heard him even before you broke through the tree lining. He looked up as you walked towards him, your eyes automatically sweeping across his wounds to make sure they were fine (they were), then looked away to continue idly stretching out his back and wings. 
“Hey”—you cleared your throat—“I’m gonna preface this by saying I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself,” you started as you stopped in front of him. He tilted his head towards you with a chuff to let you know he was listening. You bit at your lower lip for a moment, then released it. “But I was in the village earlier and King Enji was there talking to peop—” 
His head snapped towards you so fast you wondered if he got whiplash. You cut yourself off abruptly at the snarl he released, your eyes widening as he reared his head back and exhaled a plume of dark smoke. You blinked at him in surprise and stepped back when his wings fanned out behind him, his spikes bristling angrily. “Whoa! What? Something wrong? You don’t like him?” You hadn’t seen him react this viciously to something in a… while. 
Bakugo hissed, his eyes shrinking into carmine slits. He gave his wings a few pointed flaps, then stomped his hind leg—the one that had a wound close to it. You stared at the tender scarring on his flank for a moment, your jaw dropping open. 
“Oh shit,” you whispered, “is that how you got those?” A rough growl was all the confirmation you needed. 
Your heart sank; there was only one reason why King Enji would be in Yuuei. It seemed like your worries had come to fruition. You rubbed at the bridge of your nose, suddenly tired. “He’s so power hungry that I’m somehow not surprised. He must’ve heard the news once you started flying around.” You had questions that could not be answered, but that was the least of your worries. Your main concern was what now? You took in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to deal with an irate dragon. 
“I don’t think,” you started slowly, “it would be a good idea for you to… be here, right now.” 
Bakugo didn’t seem to particularly like what you were saying. He looked taken aback for a split second—if you hadn’t been carefully watching him you wouldn’t have noticed—then bared his teeth at you in a snarl. He moved so that his head loomed over your significantly smaller form, slitted eyes daring you to say another word. You held your ground. “Look, I already said I know you can handle yourself, but I really think laying low or— or even going somewhere else might be the right thing to do here.” Bakugo snapped his jaw in disagreement. “Your injuries are mostly healed, but not fully, and I worry that anything… strenuous might tear them open again.” 
The growl he let out was nearly thunderous. He reared back on his hind legs, fanning out his wings to make himself appear larger. He gave them a singular, large flap—purposeful. Powerful. You raised an arm up to cover your face as it sent pieces of grass and dust swirling about in the air. He huffed out a plume of smoke that washed over your body and filled your nose with the smell of burnt caramel. When he landed back on his raised legs, you felt the impact shake through the ground. You frowned. 
“I know you’re strong,” you told him again gently, “but it’s okay to run sometimes, y’know? It’s not worth dealing with him—“ 
His snarl bordered on a tumultuous roar, his tail lashing out behind him with a fervor that made you only a bit uneasy. He was getting really angry—was what you were saying that unreasonable? Or was there something else at play here? You didn’t know, you didn’t know.
“What’s wrong?” you asked him again, worry tinting your voice. He made a deep rumbling sound from his chest, his body tensing. “Why are you acting—”
He didn’t even wait for you to finish your sentence. With two large motions of his wings he’d taken to the skies, the generated wind whipping your clothes and hair around like you’d been caught out in a deadly storm. 
“Bakugo!” you called out helplessly, your voice getting lost in the repetitive flapping of his wings as he flew further and further away—towards Mount Kamino. There was a moment where all you could hear was the rustling of the trees around you, the occasional chirp from the wildlife that frolicked within the leaves. Your shoulders slumped and you ran a weary hand down your face. 
There was something wrong and you had no idea what.
You made the slow trek back to your cottage, heavily contemplating Bakugo’s reactions and what they may mean. You didn’t have a single clue, unfortunately, and his clear anger left you in a funk. You couldn’t really concentrate on anything. You kept an eye on your windows and often went outside to look up at the blue sky for a hint of gold, but Bakugo kept to himself. You spotted him flying around Mount Kamino on occasion—disappearing beyond it at times—so you knew he hadn’t left, but it still bothered you. Surely he wasn’t pissed at you for showing concern, right? You couldn’t be entirely certain. Everything just seemed to spiral out of your control.
You didn’t see him for the rest of the day and your restlessness carried into the night as you lay by yourself on your little cottage bed. You supposed he just wanted time on his own, maybe to stew in his own frustrations and whatever the cause for them may be. You understood, you did, but still… 
Stupid dragon, you thought to yourself as you rolled over and buried yourself in your blankets. 
The following day, you went about your usual routine with as minimal distractions as possible. You kept an eye out for King Enji while you were walking around in Yuuei and spotted him talking to a few more villagers here and there. You were caught between feeling relieved and nervous, though you didn’t let yourself linger around him for more than a few moments. 
It wasn’t until evening was about to fall that you heard familiar flapping just outside your cottage before the ground shook nearly imperceptibly. Your heart seemed to jump up to your throat as you paused from cleaning up some dishes. Was he—? You looked over at your windows and wiped your hands on your clothes before you speed walked over to your front door to open it with surprising vigor. 
“Finally back, huh?” you murmured with a raised eyebrow, trying not to show exactly how relieved you were that he had specifically approached you first. Bakugo rumbled as he curled himself in front of your cottage, his head lowering slightly so he could look at you properly. You reached out to rest one of your hands against his nose and smoothed over the scales there with your thumb. “Calmed down?” Being on his own must have worked wonders if he was no longer as angry as he had been yesterday. 
He snorted out a light cloud of smoke into your face and gently nudged at you with his head—his own little way of apologizing. You exhaled through your nose. “You’re really a piece of work to deal with, you know that?” He snorted again as though to say I know, then drew his head away and gave you a steady look. You tilted your head in curiosity. “Something wrong?” 
There was a moment where all he did was stare at you—a prolonged gaze that made you feel like you could be sucked into the deep carmine of his eyes. It was strange; like you were being analyzed or assessed—stripped down to your very soul. Then, he made a click from his chest and lifted his head higher. Your gaze was drawn to the base of his neck—watching as it glowed angel-white in that familiar way when he had roasted the food you’d brought him. Except, it just kept growing brighter and brighter and brighter—to the point where you had to shield your eyes with your arm, a confused “what?” escaping your lips. And as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Your eyebrows were furrowed when you lowered your arm. Then they shot up in surprise. 
There, gripped in the claws of one of his front legs, was a gem. 
It was a deep, iridescent crimson that matched the color of his eyes—a glimmering pool of blood that radiated a heat like no other. There was something electrifying about it, something that made the soft hair on your arms stand up straight. It seemed to pulse with power; gleamed brightly even in the steadily darkening environment. The gem was about the size of your head, maybe smaller, but it was gripped easily in Bakugo’s claws like he was holding a ripe apple. You were dumbstruck staring at the gem—it was like you couldn’t pull your gaze away from it. Like it was sucking you into its core, demanding that all your attention stayed on it. You swallowed thickly. You understood, at that moment, why dragons were so powerful—why they were hunted. 
“That’s… You’re…” you trailed off as you stared—mesmerizingly—at his gem. You had to steel your resolve and tear your gaze away from it to look up at Bakugo. He nudged your arm with the claws holding onto his gem, purposely. You blinked, wide-eyed. “You’re… giving it to me?” Suddenly, your mouth felt like it was coated in cotton. Your heart seemed to still in your chest. 
He was waiting, patiently, for you to do something. Your movements felt stiff as you looked at the gem, then back at him. Once, twice. And you found the strength somewhere within you to reach out and grasp the gem in clammy hands. It was heavy—like a sack of flour—but you held on tight and brought it close to your chest. It seemed to hum in your palms; made you feel like you were standing next to a large bonfire. Confusion plagued your thoughts—sent them racing around your head. 
“But— but why…” You tore your gaze away from the gem once more to look back at Bakugo. He was watching you carefully, a gleam to his rounded eyes that you couldn’t quite make out. “Why are you…” It was then that you noticed he had shifted: his wings had moved to fan out behind him, his legs were tensed like he was a breath away from jumping into the air. Something seemed to click in place and you went still. “Wait— you’re leaving?” 
He rumbled a noise that only made your heart sink. This, you feared, would not be like the previous day where he’d simply needed time to himself. No, this was something more. Something that you worried would not leave him unscathed—that was perhaps inevitable. And maybe it was something in your expression, your stance, but he lowered himself back down until his head pressed against your front. You cradled the gem in one hand—near your heart—and used the other to hold his head closer. 
“You’ll be back, right?” you asked in a quiet voice. Bakugo nudged you gently with his head and puffed a cloud of smoke at the gem in your hand—a reassurance, a promise. You didn’t know why you were so… affected by everything. Why your chest ached like it was full of water. Deep down you always knew he would eventually have to leave—but you didn’t think it would be this soon. That King Enji’s presence would be the catalyst of it all. You loathed him for it like you loathed him for all the bastardly deeds he had no doubtfully done as king. You thought you had more time. 
And—not for the first time—you wondered why. Why was he doing this, why was it important that he did? Why, why, why. You didn’t have any answers and it didn’t seem like you would be getting them anytime soon—if not ever. It all just… seemed so much bigger than you. Like it had always been from the moment you’d encountered Bakugo in that dark, dark cave. He was a dragon and you were, well… you. 
But you knew what you had to do. 
You would protect Bakugo’s gem—keep it safe for him to avoid having it fall into the wrong hands during… whatever was about to happen. This, you could do with utmost certainty. 
You let out a shaky breath, then stood on the tips of your toes so you could press a kiss to Bakugo’s forehead. It was like kissing a stone smoothed down from the elements, a warm mug filled with hot tea. It was the last thing you could give him, for now. You don’t think he had expected it, for he made the smallest of sounds, then seemed to press further into your touch. 
“Stay safe, okay?” you whispered to him once you’d pulled away. He leaned back so you could stare into his eyes. “I never got to fully finish healing you, after all. You should be fine but, well, I don’t wanna have to patch you up again.” You kept your voice light to let him know you were teasing him. 
Bakugo snorted and with one final, long look at you, he spread his ombré wings and took off. You watched, squinting against the wind he generated, as he rose into the sky in the direction of Yuuei. He disappeared beyond your line of sight once he passed over the trees—but you still heard the loud roar he let out. Felt it reverberate in your bones; a declaration of war. You gripped onto the gem more tightly than before and stood there watching the darkening sky as it transitioned from burnt mandarin to royal purple. It was a moment before Bakugo passed back overhead—a dark shadow against the twinkling whites of the galaxy—this time in the direction of Mount Kamino. 
You closed your eyes and let out a sigh that only the stars could hear. Then you turned around and headed back inside your little cottage, closing the front door behind you with a small click. 
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part four
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niorrrr · 2 years
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JJK 0 bloopers
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esomaniac · 4 months
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“i love you mr beast… i want you forever and ever..”
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maibeloved · 8 months
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Kh4 kisses bc Im desperate for the new game 🥹
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meatexe · 22 days
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those color ask games but ur only option r littlest pet shops i had as a kid
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narwhalandchill · 4 months
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oh my fucking god i feel. SO stupid rn at How i didnt make the (super sane very normal just absolutely. Yes. Surely) connection earlier but uhh
so anyway im now like 89% certain that whatever the "traces" of the narwhal that remain on ajax and facilitate their (ever-growing) innate connection are like. an actually fundamental aspect of it (them?) more or less.
why? because if you consider its pov just for a moment. the narwhal was literally about to depart teyvat for good. it had nearly finished consuming the primordial sea and preparing to breach surface to finish the job by eating the french for the leftovers their human bodies were made from. its an interstellar voyager it does not linger on planets it devours. it goes glug glug and it leaves.
and like if it wasnt for traveler intervening its confirmed through narzissenkreuz and renes world formula that teyvat wouldve just been destroyed. no one could have stopped the narwhal not neuvillette not focalors not anyone.
so what was the one other thing it did right before going for that french brunch? calling for ajax. getting them reunited in the primordial sea. like all the possible implications aside bc theres many different ways to speculate on the exact reasons why and the nature of that link. the point remains.
it wasnt leaving teyvat without finding him.
like the narwhal is about to fucking Dip from this cringe planet and whatever part of it that ajax carries within himself his narwhal Absolutely wanted to be reunited with. what the fuck am i supposed to read from that. hoyo???????!??! answers?!?!?!
and its not only the calling from the narwhal side itself either bc this is ALL coinciding with the growth of a 'restless power' within ajax and his vision malfunctioning (the things celestia is literally confirmed to harvest energy thru to repair its damaged authority) and his connection with the narwhal reaching an actual conscious level (arguably subconscious n emotional too bc i find it Curious his mood is poor right as the narwhal is repeatedly described as positively malding to the point its boss fight mechanic is literally a rage meter). ajax' power is growing. his destiny is starting to shift and something is drawing him to fontaine... right as the narwhal is getting close to finished with the primordial sea. funny how it overlaps eh. how it aligns 🤨🤨 why are they orbiting each other like this (they should kiss)
(& not to even Mention how ajax just Happened to get that absolutely exponential and borderline unbelievable feat of power spike in extending his foul legacy endurance as massively as he did. while. within the primordial sea. with his narwhal. who had at that point all but incorporated the power of that sea into itself. i s2g if childe was getting passive home turf co-op bonus exp with a 4x multiplier automatically the whole 40+ days 💀💀)
#man the way its lovely reunion but tjen ajax fucking ATTACKS IT ON SIGHT you couldve gotten married!!!!11!1 fucking unbearable i am in agony#anyway contrary to popular belief we still have no fucking clue whether ajax' link to the narwhal was innate#skirk saying the traces remain on him after meeting it isnt saying tht much. the parts he shares w it couldve well been innate but dormant#instead. also just the fact that he woke it up already shady#then like. monoceros caeli being his from the beginning is completely plausible despite ppl acting like its been confirmed his const change#and like them being halves of the same entity on some lvl would make the narwhal being so weak without him n until ajax found it again#make very much. sense. anyway ajax toxicity jokes aside if the narwhal was just trying to eat him point blank without even a hello#i do get why hed react aggressively. but also bros been telling everyone n their mom hes fighting his narwhal the seconf he finds it again😔#so i feel somewhat confident in assuming he started that 40+ days brawl#anyway if ajax Isnt the celestial narwhal on some level or possibly becoming it as their link grows.#riddle me this atheists. why is his 3rd phase boss theme. the song about His individual murderous rage at us#bc he thought he was outplayed by us. His personal wrath#whys the song for that called the wrath of the celestial narwhal. of the star swallowing whale. Hmmmge. his individual rage.#why does tusk of monoceros caeli speak of him embracing the narwhals innate qualities as embracing mere parts of Himself#funny how tjat goes!! (the OST n boss drop is not 100% serious theory but it does drive me insane. bc why would they phrase it like that)#anyway either theyre 2 halves same original entity or theyre soulmates idgaf . they should fold teyvat in half and eat it for brunch#aaand im going to be consumed by this realization for the next month wish me luck#WHY DID IT NEED HIM THERE SO BADLY???? HUH??????#i mean relatable dont we all. but its sooooooooo inch resting. Curious indeed#rambles#genshin#childeposting#childe
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smokewars · 8 months
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i love love loove the godlike imagery projmoon and the fandom uses for carmen but please dont let that make u forget how silly she was. her work desk was always messy and she liked laying in the sun and her writing was chicken scratch and despite everyone seeing her as a confident leader she was never completely sure of herself. she was a human and what happened to her was a damn tragedy
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skaifayaheda · 3 months
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The Handmaid's Tale S03e01: Night
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