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crystalk17 · 3 years

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This is my super late submission for the MCYT gt gift exchange. I am really sorry for it being so late. I hope it is up to your standards!!!

This gift is for @leetlezeetle

Their promt: Giant dragon hybrid kidnaps a tiny/human to watch its young while they hunt.

As soon as I read this I thought "OMG PHILZA!!!"

So here is a fatherly, Giant, halfbreed dragon named Philza. Who kidnaps a young knight in training named Tommy. Maybe he can handle the young ones? Or maybe he will become the next meal. Who knows?

Tommy remembers the first day he was brought here. The teen was working on his stances and swings. Not even hours ago his face was shoved into the dirt by Dream. "You will never be a true knight. You can't even strike down Niki and she's a woman!" Tommy felt a heavy boot across his back shoving his body and pride even further into the mud. "You will quit or be killed."

Picking his body up the young-looking blond whipped the mud all over his front and face. If he was rebellious he would flick it at the superior, but now was not the time. After cleaning the brown thickness from his eyes he saw Dream holding his silver sword out to him with one hand. Tommy didn't say another word, even though so many were boiling under the skin to be screamed out. With a swipe of his hand, he grabbed the sword storming off.

Now he was in the field making sure he was perfect. Every swing of the sword, every shift of his body, had to be just right or he would restart with a deep growl. He would not leave until he got this perfect.

At least that was the plan.

Instead, he swung the sword jutting it straight out. The invisible enemy crippled back from the fatal stab. He was holding the wound begging for mercy.

"No foul creature. This is your last day on earth." Sliding his foot back he prepared for the final blow. Ramming the sword forward with such speed he had to close his eyes. He knew this was not the correct way to stab someone, but he was just practicing and he would try again. He expected the sword to slide through air. He would open his eyes and he would be holding his sword with one hand straight out and a perfect stance with the ghost enemy on the ground. But...but...he struck something.

Opening his eyes just a peek, his blood ran cold. Standing inches away from him was a black dragon with dark green scales sprinkled in. He thrust his sword forward hitting only the beast's clawed hand. The beast was humongous. Tommy had to look straight up into the air to even see the Creature's surprisingly blue eyes. What startled him, even more, was the fact that if the dragon wasn't looking its head over Tommy then he wouldn't even be able to see his eyes very well.

He could feel his body freeze. It didn't want to move. He felt the sword drop from his hands when the creature got even closer sniffing at his head. His hair flew up a bit then landed on top of the sweat already traveling down his face. The ground seemed to be shaking...oh wait that was his feet shaking back and forth. His pupils went wide when the blackish dragon nudged him with its claws. Maybe to see if he was alive?

Faster than he thought the creature could move, its clawed hand struck out grasping the young knight. It easily encompasses the human hiding it from the world. Tommy's whole body was encased by leather and claws that were larger than his own body. Was he seriously getting kidnapped like a princess? For what seemed like five minutes, most likely longer, Tommy banged against his rock-hard prison. He looked down seeing the monster made the mistake of allowing him to keep his sword. As if it was an instinct he grasped it in two hands and shifted his body forward. One. Two. Three hits. Even a stab and nothing happened. He wouldn't be surprised if he looked at the to and it was bent. He was going to be here for a while. -------------------------------------------------------

That very day was three months ago. On this very day, Tommy was sitting on the dusty ground of a cave, light reflecting off the walls from the fire he built. There was always plenty of food and the cave even had a small stream running through it. He was always surprised no other creatures tried to claim this area as theirs, but at the same time, he understood why.

Behind him, the sound of running feet hitting rock made his head turn. At this point, he was used to this. Looking outside it seemed about that time when the young ones started to stir.

"You can't catch me!!" Running up behind Tommy a child with short brown hair and a rugged jacket came into view. The child decided to run right behind Tommy's back even though his body was way too big to be covered up by the teen. The child looked like he could be a very young adult in stature, but in fact, this was a young halfling.

Two other forms came running out, but instead of humans like this child one was an actual dragon the size of a horse and the other human-looking but with dragon features. These three were young dragon halflings. Tommy found out through experience and reading in books halfling children had no control over their body. The younger they were the more dangerous they were.

When halfling babies are born they are very small compared to their parents. They are the size of a human, some can even be the size of a human toddler. As they got older their bodies morphed into the proper size. This is the exact reason why most halflings do not survive. They have dangers around every corner because of their vulnerable size and accidents do happen between the older halflings and their young. Throughout the years, the children would get used to their shifting abilities, so it wasn't uncommon for siblings, like these three, to look completely different.

The human-looking child keep moving back and forth so he was covered up by his 'shield'. The human with dragon features was trying to get around the sitting human to get to his sibling. With every movement, Tommy flinched a bit because the dragon halfling had claws that were digging into him every time he touched Tommy's skin while trying to get around him. He knew it was an accident, probably didn't even think about it, but he had to learn.

"Michael" he winced once more as his claws touched his shoulder. "Michael." he raised his voice a bit more to get the child's attention. The volume seemed to get his attention cause he froze in his actions. "Michael. What did we talk about playing."

"To be careful." Tommy watched as the pink flaps he had for ears drooped down showing he was upset.

"Yes, kid. You unlike your brothers have claws, wings, and these cool horns." Tommy grabbed one horn and shook the child's whole head making him smile. "I can't have your dad coming back and I'm filled with holes from your claws. He would kill us both. Just make sure next time-"

As he was talking the third child jumped right on top of Tommy. The Third was a black dragon like his father but had specks of dirty yellow scales on him. Somehow the third child learned to turn into a full dragon, but couldn't control turning back very often. He was the size of a horse and as heavy as one. "Tubbo! Tubbo get off!" Tommy was using all his strength to push the little dragon off, but all it accomplished was a face full of dragon licks.

This was how it was every single day. Tommy was left in the cave with three halfling children named Wilbur, Michael, and Tubbo. Every day it was him watching as the three played tag or roughhoused with each other while their father was gone. Who was the father? That was the black dragon who kidnapped him three months ago. Every day the giant black dragon would go out hunting, leaning poor Tommy to watch and protect his young. At first, he hated it and wanted to escape himself, but after a few days of being stuck here, the seventeen-year-old fell in love with Phil's children. Anymore he couldn't picture it any differently.

"Tubbo this is the last time I'm asking. Get off." his face was drenched in dragon slobber. The most he could do was push against the black dragon's body but he wouldn't budge. All it accomplished was the young one started to nuzzle and push up against his face to show affection. Michael ran behind Tommy's head and put all his weight on the human's arms. He was pinned to the ground and he was not going anywhere. His legs would flail up and down, but that was about it. He couldn't even do this much in fear of kicking one of the halflings.

"Get off!" Through his shouting and torturous affection, Tommy heard wood breach at the opening of the cave. The three children must have heard it too, because all three of their heads whirled to the opening as well. Tubbo started to growl and Michael's eyes grew wide. Tommy could feel the young dragon slowly stepping off his body, but he had to be ready for action now. Gently pushing him all the way, Tommy grabbed his sword from the ground. This was why he was brought here. His job was to protect and help with the young ones when their father was gone. All this training had to come into play. His heart started to beat faster as he watched the three halflings hide behind his body as if they weren't bigger than him, as if he could protect them from whatever dared to come into a dragon's den. His grip tightened on the hilt as his eyes glared at the opening. Tommy put one hand out to assure the young ones behind him.

Tubbo started to sniff the air, then his tail wagged like a dog's. He was excited about something. He ran forward with a determined speed. Tommy tried to reach out and grab his neck, but he was just dragged forward when the pup ran at full speed. Tommy dug his feet into the ground, but it didn't seem to help.

Tubbo came to an abrupt stop, flipping Tommy's body onto the ground. He frowned in irritation. He couldn't even stop a running five-year-old, how was he supposed to protect these guys?

Walking into the entrance of their hidden cave was the same black dragon who grabbed him all those months ago. With the creatures massive body in full view Tubbo ran full speed towards his father wagging his tail. Tommy had to just release or be dragged with him. He watched as the dragon very carefully dropped a dead cow, probably stolen from the villagers. The sheer black beast very carefully nuzzled Tubbo with the end of his snout getting a small squick in response.

Michael and Wilbur ran over, but straight to their dinner. Tommy watched in disgust as the two would burn the carcass with their fire than eat the pieces they tore off like hamburgers.

"Not hungry?" a deep rumbling voice asked with a surprising gentleness to it.

Tommy's scrunched up in disgust. "I'll stick to my berries and properly hunted meat. He looked up to see where a black dragon was standing was now an adult half breed human. The half dragon was smaller then the dragon form, by 20 feet to be exact. He still had black dragon wings, his tail, razor teeth, even his claws on his hands, but everything else was the perfect imitation of a human.

Tommy grabbed his sword to head out and find his own food. He would allow the family their time and he could practice with his sword. He marched to the opening when the tail curled around him blocking his path. In irritation, he looked up at the smug blond-haired male who looked 30 with horns. He had his wings tucked away, but Tommy knew they were there. He attempted to climb over the tree truck-sized obstacle until it started to move dragging him closer to the half-breed.

"What! I'm just getting food unless you want your protector to starve." The tail didn't stop herding him until he was right back to the other three dragonlings. Tommy knew he didn't need his sword so he let it drop while he yelled up at the beast. "This isn't funny Phil."

"You know I appreciate you right?"

Since he was close enough now, Phil gently picked the young knight up with two fingers. He could feel Tommy squirming, but both knew nothing would happen.

"If I didn't think you could handle yourself, I wouldn't have chosen you to watch my young."

Tommy looked back in those deep blue eyes before he spoke. "Yeah well... I know."

Phil put the human back down beside the other three. He curled his tail closely around the four. His four kids.

#mcyt #leetlezeetle #gt #dragon #knight #Tommy #philza #gift

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lexsssu · 3 years

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𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 (𝒁𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊) - 𝑱𝒊ǔ

Ao3 ver.

“Sorry for the intrusion as always, Mr. Yanwang. But I have to clean your wounds regularly or else they’ll get worse instead of healing…”

The former proud dragon lord was silent, for his eyes were shut tightly in unconsciousness. He’d been sleeping for many moons now on account of his traitorous former confidant and younger brother who’d struck when he least expected it, injuring him until he was on the brink of death. Zhongli, better known as Yanwang Dijun, the youngest and most outstanding warlord this land had seen in centuries, was calculated by his own brother!

Now imprisoned within his own residence, he could do nothing but lie in bed and recover bit by bit while the white-eyed wolf took over his people on the pretense that he was unfit to do so due to his grave injuries.

“Really, it’s simply inhuman of them to not even feed you regularly when you’re so injured like this! Not to mention that they just allowed your wounds to fester as if you’re no better than roadkill…”

Though his body made no movements aside from his slow and shallow breaths, he was more than aware of your presence and clearly heard the sincerity of your words. For he is not just a warlord in name, but his skill allowed him to maintain a spiritual body for when his physical one was out of commission. Your regular meticulous care had allowed his self-healing to accelerate enough for his consciousness to awaken despite his physical body being way too gravely injured still.

“It’s not much, but I hope this helps you even a little bit…”

Translucent amber eyes watch with rapt attention as you place the freshly boiled and crushed guava leaves upon a long gash on his arm before wrapping the limb with a clean bandage. He takes note of the gentleness you treat him with, the sweat that drips down your brow as you tirelessly repeat the same treatment for all of his other wounds.

You’ve been doing this for him ever since the day the spineless coward Zhongchun had threatened your family in order to grab you as a wife for the incapacitated him. For what would be a better show than a crippled, comatose warlord wed to a woman well past the age of marriage? Zhongli himself was only twenty-seven, still considered within the prime of his youth but already quite old to not have at least one wife, concubine, or even a bed warmer.

Truthfully however, he’d been too busy trying to expand and stabilize all the territories he’d conquered during his campaign to even think about his carnal desires and besides, he can take care of himself should the need ever bother him too much. The chance that he could also be assassinated while either in the throes of passion or if his chosen lady might be an enemy spy also prevented him from seeking one out.

“Since even the servants refuse to give me actual medicine for your wounds, I’m at least thankful there’s a lot of guava trees just outside our house. Although my family could afford to buy medicine, we usually just use all the parts of the guava tree that’s been growing at our courtyard for decades now”

The dark-haired dragon’s heart clenches in spite of being only in his spiritual form, your unwavering kindness awakening feelings within himself that he never knew he was capable of experiencing. Though you were simply used as a way by Zhongchun to make a mockery of him, the fact that you never forgot to feed him, clean his wounds, and find ways to improve his healing spoke volumes of who you are as a person.

Especially now that he’d become more aware of who his true allies are after the battle that crippled and rendered him unconscious.

He will have his revenge.

He will take back what is his.

And...he will make sure to give you a proper wedding and treat you like the pearl in his palm for the rest of your lives.

══════════════════

“...Call me Husband”

As someone who’d never had a relationship in her past 23 years of living, the last thing you expected was to find or well, had a husband forced onto you at this age. Then there was the fact that said husband was the famed and also infamous Yanwang Dijun who could slay 100,000 enemies with just a swing of his mighty spear. Additionally, the war lord had been gravely injured to the point that everyone simply expected him to peacefully die in his sleep simply because of how severe his injuries were.

So in the end, you were only expected to take care of him until he inevitably passed away.

But you didn’t want to simply give up on a great man who’d done so much to unite the scattered tribes and cities of this great land. For all the atrocities he’s been said to have committed, you yourself know that the great general never ordered or committed anything that would brand him a monster in the eyes of the gods. A mixture of admiration and pity was what pushed you to do your best to slowly heal his body despite the lack of medical supplies and ample food to help sustain him.

What you did, you did out of your own free will without expecting anything in return.

“Wife, call me husband”

So how the heck did you end up in this situation?!

Pressed against the walls of your bedroom with the general for the past year, you feel your body overheating at his sheer proximity to you. Yanwang Dijun is tall and broad of shoulder, arms rippling with solid muscle and decorated with smatterings of scales and other markings that glowed as a testament to his dragon’s blood.

And he stared down at you with such intensity that you were sure you’d melt on the spot as if you were a block of ice left upon the courtyard during a sunny day. His amber eyes shone, long and majestic dragon tail swishing lazily behind him while his arms caged you against the wall.

It’s almost like the cat that caught the canary.

You gulp down the invisible lump that seemed to have formed inside your throat, trying to look anywhere except for the dragon himself before you finally found some semblance of courage.

“H—”

══════════════════

“Honey? Are you up yet?”

Amber orbs snap wide open as their owner sits up in alarm, running a hand through his mussed up dark locks and trying to get his bearings. He feels the mattress dipping as another body gets on, sitting directly beside him and placing their soft and small hand upon his forehead.

“You okay? I was wondering why you weren’t up yet since you usually wake up just before I do,” You asked him concernedly, curious and a little worried that he was feeling unwell.

“Do you want to go to Bubu Pharma—”

Before you could finish, you find yourself pinned beneath the larger and undeniably sexy form of your husband, heated amber eyes staring into your own with unabashed want.

“Wife... MY wife…” He mutters, almost as if in a trance before catching your lips in a feverish yet passionate kiss.

Breakfast had gotten cold by the time you managed to drag him out of bed.

#lexsssu writes #genshin impact #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #rex lapis #morax #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact zhongli x reader #rex lapis x reader #reader-insert

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solara-bean · 3 years

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Hey so I read your Fic about Bruno and I was so in LOVE WITH EVERYTHING 😭💜 So I don't know if your requests are open because mobile tumblr sucks sometimes, so if its not pls ignore this : How about reader being soft and shy and they don't have a dragon but a huge phoenix and it gets all ruffled up when they blush and Bruno doubles his flirting game to see it?

I actually don't do requests but I LOVE this idea ( my inner child who's obsessed with Phoenix's and mythical creatures has be awakened once again!! ). I'm going to interpret soft as chubby if you don't mind. Feel like I went a bit off script with this hope you like it☺️.

(This is gonna be long, sorry😅)

Bruno x Chubby, Shy Reader with a Phoenix

Despite what some might think, there actually is a nineth division in the Top of Horns. A very small and quiet one that is. They're called the Scales, run by Ester Fae. She's an enthusiastic old woman with carmel skin, long beaded hair and pointed ears like that of an elf ( tho no one's sure of she actually is one ). Her division is so overlooked to the point where it's pathetic. No one takes them seriously because they care for and protect mythical creatures.

You'd think that would be important in a world like this, but considering that the more dangerous creatures are usually put down and or experimented on, not so much. So besides the dragons owned by high ranking Wing Bind officials, their most lethal case would be the blind griffin or the manticore with no teeth. All the other creatures were harmless, cute and even babies. Needless to say they were looked at as softies. Their logo being a heart shaped dragon scale didn't help.

" What's so great about the Scales? All they do is play with griffin cubs all day."

" Yeah. Bunch a slackers."

" Waste of funding if you ask me."

It all made Y/n boil with rage, although they'd never outwardly show it. They loved their job. How dare people undervalue it! Sure they played with griffin cubs but those things liked to bite dammit! Hell, they had the scars to prove it!! They had quite a few small scars actually. Caring for magical creatures wasn’t always fun and games. Thankfully they were able to befriend animals much easier than most. Thats why they were Ester’s star pupil.

It’s also why they’d been sent to Top of Horns meetings in Ester’s place. The poor woman had gotten severely hurt during the capture of a very rare and powerful creature: a phoenix. It was about the size of an average dragon and just as lethal as one. Y/n, and even Ester despite her injuries, couldn’t blame it judging from the broken chains around its neck and its bloody feathers. Thankfully Ester pull in under a sleep spell before any more damage was caused. Now they all had to decide what to do with it.

Y/n was more than willing to help. It’s just that they were shy and skittish as hell, especially around powerful people. Calm a raging dragon? Sure no biggy. Say good morning to Sullivan Squire without squeaking?! Hell no. They stood off to the side for awhile, no seats were left. Then Bruno noticed them.

“ Why are you here?” he asked, it wasn’t meant to sound rude but it did all the same.

“ U-uh...you know..the phoenix...” Y/n managed to murmur.

He nodded, got out of seat, found another chair then put it next to his. They looked at him dumbfounded. Bruno Bangnyfe wasn’t known for being gentlemanly.

“ Well? Don’t just stand there looking pretty, get over here.”

Their face instantly flared with heat.

Y/n coming to the meeting at all was hard enough. Now they had to convince everyone to keep the phoenix alive and sit next to Bruno?! This was gonna be a long meeting.

That was around five months ago. To Y/n’s surprise the Top of Horns not only spared the phoenix but also left it under her care. Ester was beyond proud. As expected, the phoenix was very hostile. Over time, however, she began to trust Y/n more and more. Within the fifth week, she let them pet her feathers while they sat next to her. She was still a bit weary around the other Scales workers, but she didn’t attack them anymore. Ester had come back too. The two got along as if the attack never happened, but Y/n expected that.

What they didn’t expect was Bruno continuously visiting them for “ check ins. ” It was nothing out of the ordinary. He’d look at the phoenix’s condition, see if she would attack him or not then leave. One day he brought his dragon, Rickenbacker. To both his and Y/n’s surprise the two became instant friends, chasing each other around the inclosure like a pair of puppies. This lead Bruno to bring Rickbacker over for playdates while him and Y/n talked. After a while Bruno started to grow on them, but they knew it was just a meaningless crush. He had admirers all over Reverse London. There’s no way he’d like the awkward, potato-shaped Scales worker right?

---

Y/n came in early for their shift, throwing on their uniform lab coat and greeting the other Scales workers as they went by. They arrived at the giant inclosure and typed in the passcode. The inside was set to a moderately high temperature and was full of massive plants and flowers. The glass dome roof allowed the sunlight to pass through as if they were really outside. Despite how overlooked the Scales were, they did have good enough funding.

“ Topaz!” Y/n called out.

There was a strong gust of wind followed by a loud whoosh sound as the phoenix landed in front of them.

“ Topaz! Oh I missed you. Weekends are too long.” Y/n cooed as Topaz chirped happily and leaned down to nuzzle into them.

Y/n gladly pet her fluffy feathers. The hue of them had improved drastically. Instead of a dark red they were now multiple shades of yellow, orange and pink blending into one another.

“ Your flying’s improved a lot. You’re so fast that I could barley see you.”

Topaz’s now no longer cracked beak stretched into a smile. She loved compliments.

The fun was cut short when the door unlocked. Behind them entered two familiar faces. Topaz let out an excited screech and instantly ran towards Rickenbacker, who did the same.

“ Wait!” they halted.

Y/n pulled down Rickenbacker’s bandaged wing. They took some of the wrapping off to check the wound which had now began to scar over.

“ Ok you’re all good. Go play.”

The two immediately ran off. Y/n began to follow them before a hand fell on their shoulder.

“ No ‘good morning’ for me, Y/n?” Bruno said with a frown.

“ O-oh, yes good morning. Sorry, I was bit distracted.”

“ Oh..right. I was worried that you were still mad about...you know...”

Y/n’s heart sank.

“ I was...but I’m over it now. I know that you were just doing your job. Cinderella was a threat, dragon or not. I doubt we’d be able to take care of her anyway...”

“ Well,” Bruno sighed. “ I guess I brought this ‘please don’t hate me’ gift for nothing.”

He pulled out a freshly baked cupcake from behind his back. They gasped.

“ My favorite!” they instantly took a bite and groaned. “ So good. Thanks Bruno.” They then noticed a slight blush on his face. “ Something wrong??”

“ Hm? Oh! No no. You know how hot it gets in here.”

They didn't question him and made their way to where the two were most likely playing, Bruno followed. They sat on a nearby bench and watched Rickenbacker and Topaz play with a few of the toys left in the inclosure.

“ So,” Bruno said as he finished his own baked treat. “ Did you ask Ester yet?”

“ No.” Y/n sighed. “ You know how hard it is to claim ownership of a rare mythical creature. Not to mention getting clearance to ride one and learning how to on top of that.”

“ You can't know if you don’t try. Besides, didn’t you say that Topaz has probably been in captivity all her life? Where else is she gonna go? She loves you more than anything so she might as well belong to you.”

“ I know but...” Y/n closed in on themselves.

“ You’re scared?”

Y/n nodded. They remained silent for awhile.

“ I’d just need really good, solid proof that Topaz wants to be with me too. Without it, the file might never get approved.”

Bruno thought on that. Then he got an idea.

“ Now that I think about it, I remember reading a long time ago that a phoenix’s feathers will match its rider’s emotions.”

“ Oh yeah! I think it was in an old fairytale, but I doubt its tru-” Their eyes widened when they looked back at Bruno. “ Why’s your shirt off???”

Bruno gave them a mischievous grin.

“ What? I told you it gets hot in here. Besides, I’m wearing an undershirt aren’t I?”

“ Y-yeah but-”

“ Uh-uh. I’m not taking judgement from a cannibal.”

Y/n’s brain nearly lost a screw.

“ A what!!”

Bruno chuckled.

“ You heard me.” he said lowly, leaning closer to them. “ You devoured that cupcake as if you aren’t one yourself.”

Y/n’s entire being went ablaze.

“ I..I-I....I’m not..I’m not a-”

“ Sure you are,” he purred. “ So sweet and soft,” he emphasized his point by putting a hand on their side and giving it an affectionate squeeze, making them squeak in surprise. “ Not to mention that you always smell so good.”

They were so close that Y/n could feel his sugar coated breath faintly dust their cheeks.

“ Umm...t-thanks its the shampoo that I use. Would you like to try some-”

They paused once they noticed Bruno’s hands go on either side of the bench behind them, pinning them.

“ Do you know what else I like about you?”

They gulped.

“W-what...”

Bruno leaned in closer, if that was even possible. Y/n could see every shade of blue in his eyes. Were his eyelashes always that long? He’d look good with eye makeup. Actually he’d make anything look goo-wait no why are they spacing out this is serious!!

“ Despite how shy you may appear on the surface, I know you’ve got a fire in you. This burning determination to protect creatures that could take down cities if they wanted. I saw it for the first time at that meeting all those months ago. I’d never heard you speak louder than a whisper, let alone with such confidence. You even got Sullivan’s attention with that spark of yours.”

Y/n managed to look away.

“ I don’t have a spark. You’re being silly.”

Bruno gently took hold of their chin and turned their gaze back to him. They were stunned by the sincere, soft smile on his face.

“ Maybe I am. You have that effect on me. Cute things always did drive me crazy.”

Cute?

CUTE??!!

Bruno thought they were cute!!!

Oh that did it! They have to make a move. This is their shot!

“ Bruno I-”

All of sudden he moved their face towards Topaz and Rickenbacker. Confused, they stared at the two and came to one hell of a sight. Topaz’s feathers had turned a soft shade pink and were also fluffed out like a scared cat’s tail. She didn’t react to the change, but Rickenbacker sniffed at them with concern then stopped when he couldn’t find a threat.

Y/n merely gawked, unable to process everything. They hadn’t noticed Bruno putting his shirt and jacket back on.

“ Well that should be enough proof.” he gave them a solid pat on the shoulder, knocking them back to reality. “ Feel free to call if you need any good flying trainers.”

He called Rickenbacker and made his way to the exit. It dawned on Y/n what that whole flirting thing was for.

Of course it was that. He didn’t mean any of it. Dammit I nearly embarrassed myself back there!

“ Wait I forgot something,” he jogged back to them and knelt down to their level. “ Would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?”

“ Dinner?”

He nodded.

“ Oh! Yes! Dinner. I love dinner- I mean I’d love to.” they stammered out.

Bruno smirked at them then rested his thumb to the side of their mouth, flicking off a tiny bit of leftover frosting. He stared them right in the eye as he licked it off.

“ See you then.”

And he was gone.

And Y/n began to think.

Topaz, her feathers still pink, came to check on them and nudged their shoulder. After giving her a few pets Y/n marched to Ester’s office with a newfound confidence. Maybe Bruno was right about them having a spark.

#ask #burn the witch #bruno bangnyfe #bruno bangnyfe x reader #took me forever to find a name for topaz and I'm still not sure about it #I imagine her as one of those thunderbirds from fantastic beasts but with fire

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

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Male ice dragon x cursed female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a one-off special story that I wanted to write as a huge huge thank you to a very generous person who supported me on Patreon and also on ko-fi. I don't normally do this, and although this is not a commission, I did chat with them about what they would like, and I've wanted to write an ice dragon for a long time, so that worked for both of us! Thank you, 'The Silent Pariah'! Hope you enjoy it! It's been on Patreon for a week, and went down really well, so it’s time to share it here!

Content: reader is cursed to turn into a more monstrous form at night, and is locked away in a tower, guarded by an ice dragon. There's a bit of a misunderstanding, some angst, a bit of fluff, and some smut. Words: 5124

Dusk drifted down around the stones of the castle, bringing with it that daily, familiar crawling under your skin. Night was a time for monsters and shadows, for creatures less than human, and for hiding away, but you welcomed it with open arms as you had for years.

Your bones started to grow warm, your nerves ringing and prickling, and you knew it wouldn’t be long now.

Turning your back on the courtyard of the deserted castle, you left the balcony and made your way inside through the beautiful, hand carved doorway and into the bedchamber beyond. Sliding your dress off your shoulders, you stepped out of your clothes and felt the change sweeping up inside you, rising like a flood of unbridled power and raw joy. Laughing, you bowed forwards like a supplicant at a shrine, and when you straightened no more than a few minutes later, breathing hard and sweating, the creature that blinked its reptilian eyes back at you from the mirror on the far wall was not the nobleman’s daughter with the blood of kings flowing through her veins.

Blueish black, scaled skin covered your cheeks, the delicate scales leading your gaze towards pointed ears, just barely visible through the thick hair that fell around your now inhuman face. Blinking slowly as your gold, crackle-glazed eyes readjusted, you rolled your shoulders and flexed your taloned hands. With skin the colour of shadows at midnight, and a spine-studded whip of a tail, you slid on a simple linen tunic and turned for the spiral staircase.

Outside, through the walls of the castle, you could hear the enormous wing beats of the only other soul who lived in this vast castle, each flex of his wing strong as a storm wind as he came back to his roost at sunset.

“There you are,” came a deep, sonorous rumbling voice as you stepped out into the evening air, still revelling in the change.

Looking like a thousand shards of moonlight, the dragon adorned the crumbling curtain wall of the castle, delicately perching there with the grace of an ornamental bird.

“Irien,” you smiled. “Good day?”

Polite as ever, he inclined his head, slowly blinking sapphire blue eyes and smiling softly to reveal a maw full of deadly teeth. The dragon stretched out one of his elegant, muscular forelegs and climbed down from the wall, over the old stable block, and into the courtyard like a cat slinking down a flight of steps. His ivory talons barely made a whisper on the slate roofs of the tumble-down old buildings, and with his silky-white wings tucked neatly against his scaled back, he flowed like quicksilver.

“Mmm, yes,” he purred, lowering his head almost to the ground in greeting and closing his eyes again as you ran your hands over the glass-hard scales of his face. Each one was the size of your palm there, but as they slid further down his glacially pale body, they grew large as your whole hand, some even bigger than that. “So warm,” he laughed, nuzzling your fingers playfully and breathing his icy breath against your fingers.

“I’m not that warm. It’s not my fault you’re basically an icicle,” you snorted and he laughed, drawing his neck up like a swan.

Suddenly he scowled and turned serious, his whole body tensing.

“Company?” you asked.

You’d been through this charade together before, and something always sank a little in your chest when you thought about what the arrival of a knight and his little posse might mean. Would they have some magic with them this time that negated the ageless magic of the dragon? Some spear sharp enough to pierce his scales? Some trick he’d never heard of? Perhaps a ballista borrowed from the dragon hunters of the south? Would this be the day that your curse would be broken and you’d have to leave the relative freedom of your castle for the gilded cage of marriage?

Irien looked back at you, his eyes hard and stern as he watched your internal struggle play out in a series of scowls across your face. “Same as usual?” he asked.

“Drive them away,” you snarled. “I have no interest in breaking this curse so I can go and live like a brood mare until I produce the requisite number of appropriately-gendered offspring, thank you.”

With a savage snarl, he beat his wings, once, twice, and launched himself into the air. His ensuing war-scream could have split the night sky in two and it made your ears ring and your vision blur.

Irien was relatively young for a dragon but he was still nearly a hundred years old, and there wasn’t a trick or strategy he hadn’t yet encountered from some upstart young knight, hoping to win fame and fortune at the end of a lance. Oh, and the chance to break your curse. Somehow that always seemed to be an afterthought with these men.

“No one ever bothers to ask if I even want ‘rescuing’,” you muttered bitterly as you watched Irien sail away like a galleon on the unseen currents of air.

He circled the central tower of the old elven castle once to get a measure of how many there were, before spiralling down in a whirling corkscrew, breath blazing shards of ice down on the unfortunate troop somewhere beyond your view below. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel sorry for the way they died - at least it was quick - but you couldn’t help the sour sting of spite that lanced through you whenever Irien announced that there was another lot at the abandoned castle’s gates. Your parents still hadn’t given up on ridding the family of the stain of your curse.

Irien was back within five minutes, landing gracefully beside you, breathing hard from the exertion of flying and drawing on his reserves to create the ice-laced breath inside him.

“Were there many this time?”

He shook his head. “Only six in total.”

“Banners?”

“Grey and yellow field with a black raven.”

You turned away in disgust. “Those were Halvard’s men,” you said. “My father’s closest adviser.” Lifting your shadowy palm, you curled your fingers and inspected the black claws before turning your hand over and watching the way the moonlight glinted on the leathery scales on the back of your hand.

Monstrous. Vile. Cursed.

Lock her away!

True love’s kiss! The only way to break it!

Dragonskeep is the only place for her now. She cannot be seen.

The shame of our family…

Irien’s soft, concerned rumble behind you drew you back from your ragged collection of memories and you turned with a half smile. “I pity you sometimes, you know?” you sighed.

“Me?” he asked with a soft chuckle, falling into step beside you as you wandered off, vaguely thinking of heading towards the rambling rose gardens at the back of the castle. “Why would you pity me? You’re the one locked in here with a dragon who keeps eating the men who come to rescue you.”

“True. I used to think you were no better than them,” you admitted. “Those first few years after they dumped me here…”

Since then, you thought he’d rather come to think of you as part of the castle furniture, or even just another thing in his hoard to guard and protect. It was better than nothing, you supposed, and you had the books in the old elven library for company, and the vegetable garden at the back that you’d been restoring since you were sixteen, and a rather impressive number of stone sculptures ranging from the ‘uniquely abstract’ to something halfway decent. The masons who had abandoned the stone workshops in the gardens of the castle had left their tools behind, like children’s toys abandoned.

He scowled, clearly a little affronted, and shuffled his wings like a chilly bird. “Why? Have I ever given you reason to think badly of me?”

You stopped and raised an eyebrow at him. “You accepted their gold and gems easily enough when they showed up on your doorstep with a newly-cursed thirteen year old and struck whatever bargain it was with you to keep me here,” you pointed out. It felt so long ago now, but you’d never forget the first time you’d seen him. You’d burst into tears and begged your parents not to abandon you here.

Irien had the good grace to look embarrassed at that, turning his snowy head away and grunting awkwardly. “I… Well, I did, yes. But when I asked why they wanted me to take a girl under my protection ‘until such time as her true love can break the curse’, I have to say I was frankly appalled.”

Something ugly twisted inside you at his words. Perhaps it was the recent reminder of the world’s disgust at your ‘condition’, and their determination to change you back, but hot outrage boiled up inside you at his words. “Appalled? So you do think the way they do?”

“What?”

“This!” you blurted, halting and angling your face so that the moonlight glinted on the scales there and on the jaw full of fangs. You stared him down with blazing, inhuman, yellow eyes. “You do think this is disgusting, just the way they do?”

“I thought you didn’t care,” he replied haughtily. “I thought you didn’t care about the curse at all.”

“I don’t!” you practically shrieked. “But I do care about -” you cut off suddenly, feeling as though the ground were rocking beneath you. All these years, he’d just been tolerating your company because of the regular shipments of diamonds and cut gemstones that your parents added to his vault of hoarded wealth in an attempt to keep all but the most determined suitors at bay.

“Care about what?” Irien asked in a softer voice.

“What would you know?” you hissed, turning away and marching towards the tower where he couldn’t enter without bringing the whole lot down around him. “You’re made of ice anyway.”

You left Irien standing in the courtyard and marched up the stairs back to your chambers. You heard Irien lingering in the courtyard, but eventually he took wing and left the castle for his preferred roost on the cliff just above it. It was a long time before you got to sleep that night.

When dawn came the next day, you didn't bother getting out of bed til late in the day, and you clung to the shadows of the library instead of going out to tend to the garden. It was a warm day, and the plants would need a water, but you just couldn’t face meeting Irien now. For all the time that you’d been here, you’d always assumed that he’d seen past the effects of the curse.

It had taken you almost a year not to be afraid of him, but as the months had ticked by after that, and he’d shown you the castle grounds and how to take care of the abandoned elven fortress; how to feed yourself and even how to read ancient elven so that you could access the rest of the books in the library; you’d come to think of him as more of a guardian than a guard. Had he just been humouring the cursed little girl all these years, despite the fact that you were a woman grown now?

Late in the afternoon, just as you started to feel restless again with the gradual sinking of the sun, a faint tapping reached your ears, coming from the far end of the library. The room stretched the full length of one of the newer wings of the castle complex, with light flooding in on either side through huge windows, and at the far end it terminated in a wide balustraded balcony where former scholars would no doubt have gone to get some air during their studies.

You poked your head out from behind the bookshelf where you’d been studying best way to rid a certain garden herb of aphids, and squinted along the clear aisle between the rows of shelves. There, at the balcony at the far end, you could just glimpse Irien, gently tapping a claw on the glass. He was far too large to fit his body onto the terrace, but he could perch elegantly on the rim like a butterfly on a teacup.

Grinding your teeth, you fleetingly considered simply ignoring him, but in the end you straightened and dumped the book on the floorboards. Grim-faced, you marched up the length of the room and opened the leaded-glass door at the far end, coming to a halt in the centre of the balcony with crossed arms.

“I think,” Irien carefully began the moment you were outside, “That we may have had a misunderstanding yesterday.”

Your scowl deepened.

“Hear me out?” he asked, clearly well aware of your tendency to bolt at the first sign of discord.

Reluctantly, you nodded. As far as you knew, he’d never lied to you before.

Out here in the fading sunshine, with the low light flashing in prismatic ripples along those pearlescent scales, he looked… Frankly, he looked like a dream, and something ached inside you the longer you gazed at him. The graceful lines of his lithe, powerful body, the delicate, leathery membrane of his white wings, his ivory claws, the crystal spikes that adorned his head like a crown and continued down his lissom neck to his shoulders, only to start up again at the root of his tail and end in a fractured cluster of crystals around the tip of his tail; everything about him spoke of elder magic and of something ancient, something lost and forgotten from another age, despite his relative youth. He was intoxicating.

With a great inhale as if for courage, he began by apologising. “I’m sorry that what I said came out so wrongly yesterday,” he said. “I didn’t mean that you are appalling in any way. What has always appalled me, however, is the fact that your parents were prepared to abandon their own child to the dubious care of a dragon, and lock her away in an old elven stronghold for something that wasn’t her fault or doing in the first place.”

“Oh.” Well… when he put it that way…

“Oh,” he laughed. “I thought you might know me a little better than that after so much time together…” he added, tone bordering on huffy and petulant.

Even you had to admit that it was true. “Yeah,” you hedged. “I… I thought I did too. Maybe that was why I was so shocked. I’m sorry too… I was still in a strange mood after the soldiers came and I let it get in the way and took what you said the wrong way.”

Irien smiled gently and rumbled a slow, almost juddering exhale that you’d always found strangely attractive. In fact, you nearly missed what he said because your attention was focused on the sound. “I promise that what I said to you all those years ago still stands… the time I found you crying on the roof of the keep.”

Your lips gave a feeble twitch at that. He’d had to fly you down because you’d been too scared to climb. “And what is that?” you demanded though you recalled it perfectly well. Your eyes glittered as the mood shifted palpably between you, both tangibly relieved to be sliding back into your familiar repartee and banter, almost as if you’d not fallen out at all.

Catching the look in your eye, he gave another half-laugh. “That if you like the way you are, then it seems pretty futile to me to try to change you against your will. And personally,” he added, lowering his head a little and turning a tad bashful, “I think you’re beautiful whether the sun is up or down.”

The churning in your stomach that had been gnawing away at you since the previous evening suddenly stilled, and you smiled. “Really? I mean… it doesn’t bother you at all?”

Irien rolled his lovely blue eyes. “Not in the slightest. If anything, your ‘cursed’ form is… well…” He bustled and flustered a little with his wings, turning his gaze away.

That was a surprise. “Is what, Irien?”

“You’re stronger and faster like that; your eyes work better in the dark, and your hands seem to borrow a bit of inspiration from my kind,” he said, holding up one ivory-clawed hand so that the sunlight danced off his own talons for a moment. “And you have a tail…” he croaked.

“Sounds like you’re trying to tell me you’ve got a crush on my cursed self,” you snorted in disbelief, taking a few steps over to the balcony and resting your forearms on it. When he didn’t answer immediately, you shot him a sidelong look. “Irien?”

“I… have tried to tell myself that we are victims of circumstance… That… what I have come to feel for you is only to be expected when two souls are locked away in close quarters with each other for so long, but…” He paused and shrugged as he returned your look askance and exhaled. “Alas, I remain unconvinced.”

“Wait, is that your way of saying you do have a crush on me after all?”

He scoffed, frustrated with himself, and snapped, “When you put it in those terms, it sounds somewhat… cheap and insincere.”

His fingers flexed on the stonework, talons grinding small indents into it and sending a tiny trickle of finely-ground dust to the tiled floor of the balcony. Reaching one hand out you placed it over the leathery scales on his hand - really his foreleg - and squeezed. It was like squeezing stone, but he clearly felt the impact because he jolted a little in surprise and slid a foot down the wall from his perch. His wings flapped instinctively to keep himself in place and you almost laughed.

“So your feelings for me aren’t cheap and insincere then?”

“No,” he growled, and then with a little more grace he sighed. “No, not at all. I can’t stop thinking about you. Whenever I see someone with their troops tramping up to the gate, it’s not my hoard I think to protect.” He turned his head and blinked quietly at you. “It’s you.”

Something caught in your throat at that and tears prickled your eyes. “Irien…”

“Mmm?” he rumbled.

“Will you fly me somewhere?”

“Anywhere. Where would you like me to take you?”

Your eyes drifted over the rambling castle grounds, bathed in the golden light of early evening. Of course, now that you knew he truly cared for you, perhaps you could persuade him to fly you anywhere in the world, although it wasn’t particularly safe for his kind out there. People built cruel ballistae with bolts as thick as tree trunks to fell dragons from the sky like downed swans, but in these parts, he assured you he was safe enough.

When you didn’t answer him immediately, he rumbled your name and lowered his white muzzle to the balustrade, resting it there and watching like a patient hound while you decided. You placed your fingers on his nose and felt the chilly, frosty breath wash over them. The sheer steadiness of his presence was almost overwhelming, like he had his own gravity and was drawing you in and holding you there. You found both of your hands going to his face and suddenly you were leaning over him and sobbing.

“Hey,” he murmured, bringing one wingtip carefully to touch your shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You sniffed but the surging emotions refused to let you talk. It was too much. After a lifetime knowing you’d been abandoned here for who and what you were, to have the unwavering acceptance of the only being in the world who had shown you true respect and kindness… it left you spinning.

His pale hand closed around your waist and he pushed off the tower with you delicately in his grasp. You’d done this before, though not often, and the thrilling swoop in your stomach chased most of your tears away, leaving room for little else but wonder in your heart as the world spread out beneath you like a patchwork quilt.

Irien didn’t tell you where he was headed, and you found you didn’t care where he took you. He climbed higher into the hazy, lavender sky above, and soared over the castle wall and out into the pastures beyond where deer grazed and occasionally the massive mountain sheep would come down to enjoy respite in the warmer valley in the winter. Out beyond the open, untamed fields, a huge, glittering lake sparkled, and he seemed to be making for it as he glided along on unseen thermals.

The sun had just begun to kiss the mountain tops to the west, gilding a line of fire along their silhouettes, when he landed on the quartz pebbles of the lake shore, their colour almost the same as his own white scales. He set you down on the grassy bank just above the beach and stepped back.

“Better?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replied, bringing his head back and nuzzling your stomach affectionately, blue eyes rolling closed.

As your hands traced the contours of his massive head, he sank his body down to lie on the pebbles and curled his tail around his legs like a cat. The rumbling of his breathing soon deepened until you had to giggle. “Are you purring? Do dragons purr?”

“Only when we’re - oh - really… ahh…” he faltered as your fingertips skirted around the base of one of his crystalline horns which was, apparently, extremely sensitive.

“Really what, Irien…”

“Ah…” he gasped as you repeated the gesture. “Oh… gods that’s good…” he blurted.

You kept doing it until he rolled onto one side, breathing quickening as a tangible shiver passed along his spine. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive,” you murmured, leaning down to plant a kiss on his smooth cheek.

Half-twitch and half-spasm, his right foreleg raked a huge channel through the pebbles as he groaned long and low, claws flexed.

“Should I stop?” you teased.

“Up to you,” he rasped. “But…”

“But what…?”

He seemed to be having difficulty stringing a sentence together, which was amusing. The fact that he was so affected by your touch was definitely doing things to you as well, and as you felt the sun going down, you realised you were going to shift soon.

“But what, Irien?”

His jaws opened and he began to pant, little crystals of ice forming along his canines and over the pebbles of the beach where his head lay pillowed. His belly was pale as moonlight, the iridescent sheen only beginning on the larger scales of his sides and back, and as you gazed down the length of his body, you saw that the small slit in the sheath on his lower abdomen, almost between his legs, had begun to glisten with a pearlescent fluid. It looked swollen too, and as you caressed that sensitive spot on his head again, you watched as the very tip of his cock began to emerge from the sheath.

“You want me to keep going?” you asked, feeling your own skin heating up, partly from the impending change and partly because the sight of him getting so worked up was affecting you too.

“I didn’t… bring you here for… this,” he panted. “But I won’t stop you if you want to.”

“Do you want it though?” you asked, stepping back as your bones began to creak and shift. “Shit, sorry I’m… I’m shifting…” you gasped, reeling backwards and landing hard on the ground behind you. “I thought I had a few more minutes…”

It didn’t take long, and when you looked up, he was watching you with his steady, sapphire gaze. “Alright?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you change.”

With your new ‘monstrous’ eyes, you had an even better view of him. Where your human sight saw gentle rainbows shimmering on his scales, now you saw refracted light glittering and shattering off his spines, and the sheer depth of colour in his eyes was phenomenal. “How about another kind of ‘first’?” you asked, voice huskier now, and you began to slide the simple shirt up over your head.

The heat of his gaze made you preen a little as you revealed your dark blue, scaled body to him. His jaw parted again, mouth hanging open softly, and his tongue was visible too behind that row of enormous teeth. He was tasting your arousal on the air, you realised, like a predator.

“Gods, that’s hot,” you hissed and he tilted his head, catlike. “I want you, Irien. Is… Is that wrong?”

He shook his head. “If it’s what you feel, then it’s not wrong. I want you too, though I fear I might break you.”

“We’ll have to get creative,” you grinned, feeling your tail lashing behind you playfully.

“Look at you,” he snarled, rearing up a little like a cat about to pounce; a cat made of glass and porcelain.

His cock was not yet fully unsheathed, but you could see it - dark blue at the base, the colour of the heart of the lake behind him, with paler ridges that looked extremely inviting, and fading to pure white at the tip. It twitched and drooled under your gaze and he grunted softly. He was huge. The only way you could think to give him any kind of pleasure would be either to ride him and grind yourself along his length as best you could, or to loop your legs around it and let him fuck the space between them, and honestly, both had their appeal.

A huge drop of pre-come slid from the tip and landed on the pebbles below as his cock twitched again. He was breathing hard now, nostrils flared, and he stared openly as you stepped out of the last of your clothes, moving towards him while he stayed perfectly still. It was as if he thought you’d evaporate if he shifted so much as a muscle.

He whispered your name and you placed your finger on his lips in passing as you stalked along the length of his body. With the slightest pressure of your hands you asked him to tip over onto his side again, and he did without question.

The huge dragon folded his wings carefully behind him and then rolled onto his back as you directed him with little more than a quick touch here or there. His cock began to slide fully free of the slick sheath, and you jutted your chin upwards at his belly. He understood your request and brought his hand to the ground, palm up, for you to step into, and he raised you up onto his stomach. His hand fell back immediately to the beach beneath, limp and weak. You straddled his cock and he gave a huge, low frequency groan that made the water ripple and dance. His tail lashed violently, sending a spray of pebbles up into the air and splashing down into the water.

Slowly, teasingly, you rocked your hips over the tip of his cock and watched him leaking beneath you and all over his stomach. The claws of his hands scrabbled in the stones beneath him and his wings, stretched out on either side like a butterfly on display, flexed to their widest span. His head jerked backwards and he opened his maw wide.

“You like that?” you asked and he nodded, mute with pleasure as you picked up a steady rhythm.

“Oh gods that’s so good,” he grunted after a while, voice sounding wrecked. He bucked his hips upwards and nearly dislodged you, but you grabbed the scales of his belly and ground down harder against him, gripping with your thighs. “I’m not going… to last long,” he panted. “I’m… oh gods… oh…” and he chanted your name over and over as you worked him harder and harder.

You managed to catch a ridge of his cock against your clit and ground yourself into it before bringing your finger carefully there to help you along. When he realised what you were doing, he took one look at you pleasuring yourself and using his cock to help, gave a short whimper, before his whole body tensed up.

He came all over himself, ropes of hot release searing against your clit in a rush as his body clenched and convulsed, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, and you found yourself coming a heartbeat later. Your fingers gripped his cock, prolonging and intensifying his orgasm as you came in waves atop his cock.

Eventually he slumped back, head knocking against the pebbles behind him, and he lay there, twitching and spent, apparently dazed and reeling from the force of his orgasm. Your legs were slick and shaky too, but as you moved off him, he managed to raise his hand to help you down.

“I’m going to have to bathe in the lake to clean off,” you grunted, looking down at yourself. “Look at me.”

“I am,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”

Feeling a little unsteady still, you turned away from him and said, “Come and join me when you’ve recovered a bit…”

“Mmm,” he said, making no move at all as you strode into the lake. He was clearly enjoying the view, and it was a long time before he rolled himself over and heaved his body up to join you. When he did, he nuzzled you and let you lounge on his foreleg, half in and out of the water. He brought his tongue to your thighs and carefully laved it up and over your body, honing in on your clit which was still aching and sensitive.

Your legs parted instinctively for him and as he raked his teeth appreciatively over your stomach, bringing you up to his maw so that he could taste you better, you let yourself fall limp in his hands. It wasn’t long before he had you shuddering and moaning against his tongue, gasping his name.

He made you come twice more after that, the last time on the grassy bank above the lake shore, and as he curled around you protectively to let you recover, you rested your head against his side and sighed. “I don’t ever want to leave here,” you murmured. “Can it always be like this?”

“I’ll try,” he smiled, laying his head down beside you. “I’ll try.”

—

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#exophilia #ice dragon #dragon x reader #male dragon x female reader #male monster #female reader

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kat-katsuki · 3 years

Text

Sunflower and White Rose | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader Part 1

Fantasy AU

Genre: Drama

Masterlist

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

WC: 2.4k

The northern tribe of the dragon riders had a tradition. Every year, the tribe holds a fire festival, also known as the coming-of-age festival, to celebrate those step foot into adulthood. All the 16 year olds will gather around the bon fire to dance with their partners. It is said that lovers who dance together will be blessed by the fire god, and their love will last for all their lifetimes to come.

Bakugou Katsuki was prince of the tribe, and the bravest, most skilled dragon rider of their generation. He is the dream man of almost all the young ladies in the tribe. This year, he was to come of age. The young fifteen and fourteen year olds cried to their parents, asking why they weren’t born a year or two earlier.

Little did they know the young prince already had his eyes on someone. You.

You were quite the black sheep of the tribe. The tribe was full of dragon shapeshifters and riders. Your people were known for bravery and freedom. Children were taught at a young age how to soar through the sky, whether it be on their own wings, or riding a winged one. You, on the other hand, were terrified of heights.

You were often made fun of by your peers. Even Bakugou himself had once made fun of you for being a coward when the two of you were just children.

However, you had the kindest soul the world has to offer. Even though you were the laughingstock of your generation, you never got mad or embarrassed. You simply smiled and treated everyone with respect. You weren’t jealous of those who soared the sky. Instead you focused on the wonders the earth had to offer.

Because you were neither a rider nor a shapeshifter, you made good friends with Midoriya Izuku, the young outsider who lived a few miles outside the tribe. He and his mother had moved here when he was very little. Although the tribe had a reputation for being savages and fearful of outsiders, the dragon tribe was actually very welcoming. Bakugou’s mother made friends with Midoriya’s mother almost immediately, and Midoriya was raised alongside of the youngsters of the tribe. However, because Bakugou often made fun of Midoriya for being scrawny and weak, Midoriya had few friends in the village. Midoriya’s mother was a healer, so Midoriya too, studied medicine.

You were always fascinated by herbs and flowers, so you often went to Midoriya’s house to learn from them. When you weren’t at their house, you often laid in the flowerbed, enjoying the scent of nature.

How Bakugou fell for you was an accident, literally. He and Kirishima, his dragon, were soaring through the skies, practicing the new tricks they’ve learned, and that was when the accident happened. Bakugou lost balance, and accidentally steered Kirishima into a large boulder on the top of the mountain, and the two fell right onto the flowerbed you were laying on. Thousands of flowers were crushed under the large red dragon, petals and pollen scattered into the sky and then falling down like rain.

You stood in the sea of flowers, wide eyed. The prince had fallen. The best rider of the tribe had fallen. You quickly rushed over to the fallen prince and his dragon. Kirishima was protected by his strong and sturdy scales, so he only ended up with scratch wounds and maybe a concussion. Bakugou, on the other hand, broke his left arm.

When Bakugou saw you his eyes widened with horror as his face turned into a deep shade of crimson. Someone had saw him fall out of the sky. Of all people to see him embarrass himself, it was you, the loser of the tribe. “Don’t you fucking dare tell anyone about this! Or else I’ll kill you!” he threatened you.

“O-Okay!” You nodded timidly. “B-But your arm is broken. It needs to get treated immediately or-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! I DON’T NEED HELP FROM A FUCKING FAILURE!” He slapped your hand away.

“Katsuki that’s not very nice. She’s just trying to help!” Kirishima said when he transformed back into his human form. Despite his insults, you didn’t hesitate to help him and Kirishima to a small cave far away from the village, where they can rest and heal in peace. Normally, when dragons or riders get injured, they’d call a shaman to do a few chants, and let the gods heal their wound. Herbs and medicine are foreign practices that were not used in the tribe, so when you brought the medicine you had made for the prince and his dragon, he refused to let you put it on him.

Kirishima, on the other hand, was very open to these foreign stuff. He let you put your homemade creams on his scrape wounds to stop the bleeding. “Oh man this feels so good! Katsuki you gotta try it!”

After a lot of persuading, Bakugou finally let you put some medicine on his scrape wounds. The cream stung at first, but after the stinging sensation was over, it left a cool feeling on his skin that soothed the pain. Bakugou couldn’t help but notice how the wounds healed much faster with the strange green plant juice you put on him than the chants of the shaman. Eventually, he let you wrap his arm to a stick, which you said will help his arm heal.

You tore the cloth to your dress, shortening it to barely over your butt. You gently raised his broken left arm, placed two straight logs to either side of his arm, and wrapped the cloth around them. Only then did Bakugou finally take a closer look at you for the first time in his entire life. For a failure, you were breathtakingly beautiful. Your (e/c) orbs seemed to sparkle under the moonlight, and from your (h/c) hair, he could smell a faint scent of flowers.

Every day you’d come back with food, water, and medicine. While Kirishima’s wounds were healed a long time ago, he waited with Bakugou for his arm to recover. Before Bakugou knew it, he began looking forward to seeing you everyday.

You almost always had cuts and bruises on you somewhere. Bakugou knew exactly how you got those. Ever since you were a kid you were always bullied by the other children in the village. You and Midoriya were always the targets of their rock throwing and sharp shooting practices. Although Bakugou never bothered to join in, he used to always scoff at your miserable state. Now, seeing those dark purple patches over your skin, he could only feel his blood boil. “Who did it?” he’d ask, but you would only show him that annoyingly goofy smile of yours, telling him that you fell, when you clearly didn’t.

He didn’t know why he felt a strange disappointment inside him when you told him he was fully healed. “You can go back now,” you said.

“Alright! Now we can go flying again!” Kirishima cheered.

Bakugou stared at his left arm, now good as new. Your medicine worked miracles. He couldn’t even find a single scar on his body. You left before he could tell you ‘thank you.’ Just like that, he and Kirishima went back to the village. The moment they arrived, they were surrounded by their friends and family, asking them where they’ve been the past few weeks. It was then that he realized he never once thanked you for saving him and keeping his secret.

Since then he’s had his eyes on you. Every time he spotted you in the crowd his eyes would follow wherever you went. Whenever he went flying with Kirishima, they’d always fly over the same flowerbed to see if you were there.

Kirishima quickly caught onto the feelings of the young prince. Whenever they saw you at the flowerbed, Kirishima would lie that he’s tired and needs a rest. He’d land at the flowerbed just so Bakugou could be with you. However, despite Kirishima’s efforts, Bakugou never seem to know what to say to you. He’d try to ask what you were up to, but the words that came out of his mouth were, “Hey coward, here sniffing flowers again?”

You’d always give him the same goofy, and slightly timid smile with your signature, “Ehehe” chuckle. Kirishima would nudge Bakugou and tell him to go talk to you, but Bakugou just sat there watching you pick herbs, refusing to utter another word to you because he knew nothing good will ever come out of his mouth.

He always sees you bringing home injured little animals: birds, squirrels, rabbits, fawns. Instead of eating them like what the other people in your tribe would do, you treated their wounds and released them back into the wild. You were just so weird, weirder than that outsider Midoriya. But for some reason Bakugou can’t get his mind off of you.

Finally, it was the awaited day before the fire festival. On this day, all the sixteen year olds of the tribe will be participating in the flower exchange event. Flower exchange is the special event held the day before the fire festival for the new adults to find partners. It is also the traditional day where the young adults declare their love for one another. Of course, it is common for some people who don’t have a love interest in mind to partner up as friends, and for some people to wait for their younger significant other to turn sixteen before choosing a partner. However, for most sixteen year olds, this is the most important day of their life.

Bakugou had already planned everything out in his head. He’s going to ask you to be his partner. He practiced day and night so that he won’t accidentally call you harsh names. He swore that this would be the one day where he won’t say anything mean to you. He’ll tell you how he feels, and ask you to be his partner, his lover, the one who would forever be with him for their many lifetimes to come.

He had your favorite flower in his hand, a ghost of a smile on his face. He had watched you pick flowers for months. He had noticed how your eyes would always soften, and your lips would always curve upward when you saw this particular flower. The white rose.

Everyone else were holding such vibrant colors in their hand, red being the most common. Red roses, red salvia, tulips, violets, peonies, buttercups, you name it. He had always wondered why you were so obsessed with this plain looking flower. Your taste in flower was just as unique as your fear of heights.

Flower exchange was held at the center of the village. Every year the entire village would come to watch the youngsters exchange flowers. It can easily be deemed the most important event of the year. A swarm of girls and boys ran up to Bakugou, asking to exchange flowers with him. “FUCK OFF EXTRAS!” Bakugou growled at them as he violently searched for your silhouette in the crowd. Weird… He knew for a fact you turned sixteen this year. Heck he even saw the shitty Deku, who was invited by Mitsuki to join the tradition. He held a sunflower in his hand, and stood at the corner looking almost uncomfortable to be there. His face was a dark shade of crimson, and his legs trembled.

“Pfft! Sunflower? Who brings a sunflower to flower exchange?” Bakugou could hear a few people laugh at the young green haired teenager, and he just scoffed in agreement.

Kirishima had exchanged flowers with his childhood friend, Ashido Mina. You were still nowhere to be found.

Soon, most of the new adults were already partnered up, clearing the area. “Prince, will you be my partner?” girls kept swarming around him, and he had to push past them to find the familiar (h/c) silhouette.

That was when he saw you.

He expected you to stand there awkwardly. He expected you to be without a partner.

He didn’t expect you to show up without a flower.

You stood there kicking the pebble by your feet, a hint of sadness in the depth of your eyes. “(Y/N)-chan where’s your flower?” Mitsuki asked.

“Ehehe~” you smiled at the wife of the chief and scratched the back of your head almost guiltily. “I forgot about that.”

“Bet she knows that no one’s going to partner with her, so she just didn’t bring one,” someone laughed.

The smile never left your face, but Bakugou had a strong urge to punch them in the face. What was he going to do now? Exchange of flower symbolizes exchange of love. Did you not bring any flower because you had no love to give? Or was it true that you just forgot?

Whatever. None of that matters. He was going to give his flower to you no matter what. “(Y-”

“(Y/N)-chan. If you don’t have a flower, I’ll give you mine!” Midoriya stepped in front of you and held out his sunflower to you, pink dusting over his freckled cheeks. Bakugou froze, wide eyed.

“Izuku what about you? Aren’t you going to exchange flowers with someone?” you asked your friend.

“Well, it’s not like someone is going to partner with an outsider like me for something as important as the fire festival. This is such an important tradition to your culture, you should take it,” Midoriya placed the sunflower in your hand. “In fact I was….actually going to give it to you in the first place….”

“Psh! Outsider and loser, how fitting.”

Mitsuki shot a glare at whoever uttered those words.

You just smiled at Midoriya, and asked, “Then you wanna be partners for the fire festival?”

The white rose fell from Bakugou’s hand. At that moment it was as if the sky came crashing down on him, weighing over his shoulders, pinning him to the ground. He was the prince, the next king of the dragon tribe, yet the only person he has ever loved, asked someone else to be her partner. The people around them dove to the ground fighting for the rose that fell. Almost in an instant, the poor flower was torn to shreds, just like his heart.

He ran.

He could only run. He had to get away before he puked on site. Why…? Why? Why?! WHY?!! Why the shitty Deku?!

The necklaces clattered, and the cape on his back fluttered with the wind. His teeth were clenched and his sharp nails dug into his palm. He was furious at you, furious at Deku, but most of all he was furious at himself. Why didn’t he go up to you before Deku? Why did he run away without even attempting to ask you. He always called you a coward, but he was the true coward.

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Also on AO3! A kudos would be greatly appreciated!

#bnha fanfic #bnha #mha #mha fanfic #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha fantasy au #boku no hero academia #boku no hero x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #drama #romance #white rose #sunflower #my hero academia

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sky-arcobaleno · 3 years

Text

memories of the forest

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader;

Sky piercing trees loomed an unreachable canopy above her head as she raced through the forest’s lower jungle. Vines and upturning roots were nothing to her skilled bare feet. Dodging another low branch, the cheeky girl laughed to herself. Her clan would never be able to catch her here! Within Teair’s close knitted playground, this child of the sky wandered freely. Slowing down to a small stream, the girl perked up at the sound of a grass being moved. Something was here. Something….soft? Standing up and brushing off her deer skirt, she turned around to see her uninvited guest. She blinked, genuinely confused, as a vulpine beast with four tails sat in front of her. The tips of its tails were a soft autumn orange. It was….divine like. Nothing like Grandame Forneil, but close.

“Who are you?” The voice was male, but a child male. Close around her age...maybe. She would find out.

“I’m a daughter of the sky! Who are you?” the beast curled its tails around its feet. Seeming to observe her before answering.

“A beast of fire.” She laughed to herself, but not quiet at all.

“You are a land beast of flames!” The vulpine beast growled, quickly crouching down, ready to pounce. She only looked at the vulpine beast before giggling.

“Silly vulpine! You are land fire. I am -” the mighty roar of Grandame Gowyual trembled the loose dirt below the girl’s feet. Giggling louder, the girl finished her sentence. “- sky fire!”

It had been a few summers since she saw that land firefox of four tails. Ah...Kitsune, Grandame Forneil had explained the night of the fateful day. A Kitsune of four tails at such an age was a feat Forneil had continued on. She was lucky that Kitsune was curious about her, lest the beast grow bored and end her life. Sighing and shaking her braid behind her, the now young teen races through the same forest. This time, instead of playing hide & seek, she was practicing her tracking and hunting skills.

“Skills of a warrior. A survivor.” Grandame Locoful had croaked out before she left the nest with Grandame Forneil. Skidding to a halt and notching her arrow, focused gray eyes followed the peaceful deer. She was with a child, if the bigger belly was anything to go by. Removing her arrow and turning around, gray eyes locked on a sight of wonder. A golden kitsune with five tails, tipped in a familiar autumn tone. Ah…a fire kitsune. That’s when knowing crimson locked on her. Suddenly, she felt as if she was facing a true predator. A predator of many hunts and had victory in its tight bite. The kitsune rose, a head or two taller than her, and began to walk towards her. A small spark of fear struck her body, tensing her muscles. She was ready to fight. As the kitsune reached about a few paces ahead, the sudden breeze came. On its path...the smell of….smoke? Turning in the breeze’s direction, the girl saw the thick mog. Small, but growing rapidly.

“Stupid humans!” the girl mumbled under her breath. Was she human? She assumed not. After all, she lived with dragons. No mere mortal could live as long as she had. Glancing at the kitsune, who was watching her actions, the girl spoke in her serious voice as she stood up right.

“This is not the work of dragons. I will return with a dragon of water to save this forest.” The kitsune only tilted its head before speaking in a deep voice.

“A ride to a clearing may be the fastest way.” A kitsune making an offer? A trick if the situation wasn’t growing dire every minute. With a brisk nod, she walked over and carefully got on the furred back of the majestic beast. With ease, the beast ran through the thicket. No fur caught on low limbs and nothing hesitated the pathway. That’s when heavy clouds of ashy smoke filled the air and her breath. Fire. A forest fire caused by inattentive mortals.

“You will not reach the clearing in time.” fearing for the woods and the lives within, the girl hummed to herself before stretching both arms to the sky.

“Hear my cry! O’ beast of the lake. Take flight to the Azure’s Domain and bring the blessing of new beginnings! Locoful, dragon of Shiramizu! Hear me and cry out your blessing!” The heavy snaps of trees falling and the crackling of flames echoed back. Her cry was swallowed by the dire situation. The kitsune whacked her head.

“No dragon will hear you, imbecile.” She growled at the statement. Hoping it was false. Locoful would hear her. She always did.

“She will not abandon her fledgling.” The beast of fire exhaled heavily before turning around.

“Then at least be alive for her to save you.” Then, the Kitsune took off again. Running away from the flames. It is then, as the Kitsune jumped over a fallen log, a mighty roar and the sound of heavy crashing swallowed the air.

“Locoful!!” She cried, overjoyed, as the mighty dragon arrived. Within mere moments, the forest fire was put to rest and the mighty beast stared at her and the Kitusne. Slipping off the Kitsune’s back and reaching Locoful’s side, the girl spoke.

“See Kitsune, beast of land fire? Locoful will always answer her fledgling’s cry.”

It was hardly a season’s changing since the forest fire, when she found herself alone by the lake nest. Around her, curled protectively, laid Setluno. Setluno was a young dragon, half the age of Grandame Forneil. Setluno was the only one who played with her. Now, Setluno is forever embraced by the forest’s trees and the lake’s watery shoreline. In front of the nest’s entrance, Gowyral was delimbed and beheaded by a blade endowed with magic. The lake was boiling in rage as Gowyral fell. Locoful had died upon return to the nest, multiple poisonous arrows cracking her scales and the poison taking her life before she could finish her warning. Forneil was the only one alive. Yet, she was over a season’s change away. She wanted Forneil to come back. Avenge the nest. Protect her. Save her. She was scared and lonely. She was no beast of sky fire. She was a mortal. Just like those responsible for the death of her nestmates. So blinded by the emotions she felt and the events that occurred within three sun positions, she didn’t notice the lake’s water coming into the nest. Hardly felt the power shifting within her. Never noticed how she was no longer pooled in blood, but now in the sky, riding a mighty beast. Intended on killing those who took her nest.

He heard the mournful cry of a dragon before he saw one take flight. Yet, this dragon was not one of the physical planes. No. This dragon was alive by the sheer magic of a mortal. A mortal intent on bringing justice. His favorite mortal to be precise. What had happened? Taking off in pursuit, he saw how the dragon looked, searched, for something or someone. What mission required such measures of hunting and tracking? That’s when the tree sprites, Kodama, began to whisper.

“Dragons dead”

“Beast slain by man”

“Oyamatsumi is enraged”

“So is Ryujin and Fujin”

“The fledgling calls for blood.”

“She will kill everyone.” Fearing that his mortal might do just that, the Kitsune prayed to his given deity. Prayed that his human would have to take rest on the ground. Allow him a chance to guide her away from the path of evil.

“Please let me get to her in time. For the world will be chaos if she succeeds.”

Three summers have passed since that loss of her nest. She now ruled the forest with a close eye. Grandame Forneil was so broken by the deaths of her flightmates, she had taken her own life in the very same lake. Now, that lake was surrounded by beautiful flowers that would poison anyone who touched them. The only saving grace from them was if the person had suffered such a loss as she has. Now alone within the woods she called home, a thought passed her mind. Why her dragons? Why not her? This thought had haunted her for many nights and days. Nothing could stop these thoughts except the occasional hunting trips and killing off gluttonous men. Now, she stood in the lake’s shallow shores, naked under the sunlight. A bath after a recent hunting trip, when the snap of a branch caught her ear. Within a mere moment, she stood with her bow taunt and arrow notched, aimed at the noise. Only to see the familiar Kitsune. Yet, he now bore six tails. He had grown more powerful in the last three summers. They watched each other, waiting for the other to make a move, when she lowered her bow and set it on the sand.

“What, beast of land fire?” The Kitsune huffed, keeping its distance.

“You are not meant to be alone, mortal of flames. You need to be with others.” Gray eyes stared into crimson. She knew the Kitsune was correct. He usually was. Yet, to be with others meant risking another nest massacre. She couldn’t handle another heartbreak like that.

“Leave Kitsune.”

“You know my name. Use it.” She shook her head. A name meant power. Power she did not deserve. Suddenly, a warm cloth covered her shoulders and a man’s voice spoke closer to her.

“Y/N, the others miss you. The forest misses you! I...I miss you.” Warm arms enclosed her, making her heart beat faster and her mind filled with happy, joyous memories of younger times.

“Please...please don’t make me remember Kitsune.” The arms tightened, and the man’s voice returned.

“I will always remind you of the joy life can bring. But first, you must take my hand.”

She now stood before the overwhelming hearth of the mountain. She had found the murderers of her nest. The cause for her mourning. The cause of her grief. Today, she will return the favor. With her blade drawn and her eyes focused, Y/N was about to take the killing blow, when she saw the triplets resting in the mother’s arms. Suddenly, like ice had appeared, it sent shivers down her back. A mother and her children. Innocent children. With quick thoughts and quicker reflexes, she turned around and began to spirit back in the forest. The forest was now alive, gleaming with life. Yet, life that could be easily taken away. Tears pricked her eyes and she tumbled down a hill. She could only feel the numbness in her heart. She had nearly repeated history again. With another family. Another generation of hurt and hate. Y/N closed her eyes, hoping for the tears to disappear. For this pain to leave.

He watched in slow motion as his mate, his Rook, leaped in front of him. Taking the killing blow from the monstrous demon Shi-gi. He watched, as his luminous flames encircled her body. A mortal with Kitsune Flames. Proof of their mate bond. He was enticed by the way she reached for the heavens, crying out for her deceased nestmates, and aimed her hands at Shi-gi.

“From the dust and stars, a life is born. To dust and star, life returns. From the mighty cry of a dragon and the plead of humanity, I fused the realms to grant my inner desire and wish!” He watched, as the five primordial deities appeared in forms of a phoenix, tiger, snake, tortoise, and….dragon. Together with his mate, the beings reached out their hands and gave power to her.

“I command the soul of Shi-gi to be bound to the realms of the inner Earth! May no beast, no mortal, no divine being find you. May you wirth in the chaos of the world and never be able to take part in its affairs! I bound thee to this plane and no other!! I banish you Shi-gi, from paradise and hell itself!!” His flames encircled her and suddenly, he remembered the price for banishment from Paradise. A soul for a soul.

“No!” He reached out, but only the feeling of his flames returned. His mate, now burning away in his flames, smiled at him.

“Find me again my love. In a time where you and I can co-exist without Shi-gi.”

He mourned to himself as the forest his love protected was burned by his flames. No. There was no world without her smile. No reason to continue if she wasn’t there. No point in existence. Turning around, ready to end his own and see her, a glimpse of something flashed through his mind’s eye. A girl, with amber hair and glowing eyes, running away from him in a playful manner. The same girl mocking his sharp teeth. The girl seeking the yokai realm for the first time. Then, the same girl bore his mark. A mark only he could create. Like lightning, he turned away from the murderous flames and ran through the woods. He couldn’t die. Just as his mate asked, he would find her again. Find her in a time where that cursed Shi-gi did not exist. His name is not even remembered by humanity. She had returned to the world of the living in some time. He would have to be there, ready and waiting, to meet her all over again.

#katsuki bakugō #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #yokai my hero #kitsune bakugo #fanfic #one shot for now #please dont hate #no beta read #katsuki #bakugo #reader #short story

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thecasperanfamily · 3 years

Note

Ficlet with Archie getting into a fight with the neighbour's dog to protect Bebe Lin?

The gratingly cheerful ringing of the doorbell slammed into Douxie’s ears and bounced around in his skull like a hyperactive gnome. He snorted as his head jerked up off of his pillow, crusty eyes blinking owlishly against the morning light. He pawed at his nightstand for his phone. 9:14 am. He groaned as he dropped the device back onto the nightstand.

“No civilized human being should be going around banging down doors at this ungodly hour...” he grumbled, pulling himself out of bed and heading for the front door with all the grace and energy of a zombie emerging from its tomb. He quickly changed his mind on the matter when he discovered that the person banging down his door was Claire Nuñez, and that she was holding a casserole dish.

“Hi, Teach!” she beamed. “Sorry, it’s a little early. Jim and I were going to have brunch in the park, and since your place is kind of on my way, I thought I’d drop off these enchiladas. Mama and I made them for you. Figured you probably don’t have much time to cook with a baby around.” It was at this point that she finally noticed his disheveled appearance. “...Did I wake you up?”

“No, no, I’ve been up for hours!” Douxie lied. “Come on in.” He stepped aside to let her in, and took the dish from her. The brightly-patterned kitchen towel wrapped around it did very little to conceal the heavenly smell of its contents. “...You’re an angel, Ms. Nuñez,” he sighed. “And your mum, too. I’ve just recently discovered a man can only subsist on frozen lasagna alone for so long before he starts losing his sense of taste.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long,” Claire replied, settling down on the sofa while Douxie took the enchiladas to the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything?” he called. “I was just going to brew myself a cuppa.”

“Tea would be great, thank you. I won’t stay too long. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Probably wise,” Douxie admitted. There were a few minutes of comfortable silence as the wizard bustled about, bringing the water to a boil and setting up the tea tray. He brought it out to the living room and, after shoving a plush toy off of the coffee table with his foot, set the tray down with a flourish. He then immediately collapsed into the nearest armchair, thoroughly exhausted.

“It’s been a week now,” Claire began, politely ignoring the way Douxie was gulping his tea like his life depended on it. “How’s everything going with Samuel?”

“So far so good,” he answered, emerging from his cup with a sigh of relief. “We’ve taken to calling him Little Merlin--Zoe made us shorten it to Lin. He was uneasy the first few days, but he seems happy now.”

“What about his powers?”

“Highly unusual, to be sure,” Douxie mused, staring into his teacup thoughtfully. “But nothing dangerous so far. I can understand why his fosters were scared, though. It’s unsettling even for me. I’ve never heard of magic surfacing at such a young age, and when he’s upset, it’s like the whole room goes cold all of a sudden.”

“Where is he now?”

Douxie choked on his tea and bolted out of his chair. “Oh gods I don’t even know--!”

“He is with Archie in my garden,” a soft voice interrupted. Nari had evidently crept inside while they were conversing, and was now helping herself to one of the biscuits on the tray. She gave Claire a polite nod while Douxie fell back into his chair with a groan. “He awoke quite early this morning. Archie and I thought it would be best if we looked after him, since you were up so late last night.”

“Archie knows how to babysit?” Claire put in.

“Surprisingly, yes,” Douxie answered. “I mean, he did practically raise me, but I wasn’t expecting him to take to a baby this much. I can hardly tear him away from Lin’s side.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet, though!” Claire gushed. “I mean, I never would have guessed--” She stopped short, distracted by a movement outside the front window. Douxie looked up from the biscuit he was dunking and followed her line of sight. A cloud of golden-brown fluff was shuffling around the front yard, nose to the ground and tail swishing happily from side to side.

“Oh, that’s Cooper, the neighbor’s dog. He keeps getting out of his yard, but nobody really minds because he’s the sweetest thing on four legs. No offense to Archie.”

“He has a gentle soul,” Nari agreed, brushing biscuit crumbs off of her shirt. “I have spoken to him a few times. He reminds me quite a bit of Douxie. They have similar values.” She smiled coyly at the sound of Douxie’s indignant sputter.

“Yeah, I can see the resemblance,” Claire snickered. Cooper went out of sight around the side of the house, and the conversation resumed. “Do you have any potential guardians for Lin in mind, or are you still looking?”

“I have one or two old wizarding friends I can try,” Douxie said. “But getting their current contact information is a bit of a hassle. And anyways, right now I think the most important thing is figuring out exactly what Lin is and why his magic is manifesting like this. I was thinking about calling Blinky, ask him if he’s read anything about--” The discussion was once again stopped short, this time by ruckus coming from the back yard--a cacophony of plaintive yelps and draconic snarls. Douxie, Nari, and Claire all bolted out of their seats and raced for the back door. Douxie wrenched it open and dove outside, magic already gathering in his palms, only to find Lin sitting perfectly safe in a patch of clover, looking very confused but otherwise unharmed.

Archie, on the other hand, was about as far from calm as Douxie had ever seen him. His back was arched, spines standing up straight and sharp, the fur on his tail puffed out like a bottlebrush. He was glaring daggers at Cooper, who was curled against the back of the house, quivering and whimpering and rubbing at his snout with one of his paws.

“Archie, what the hell?!” Douxie burst out, trying to scoop his Familiar up before he caused any more damage.

“Unhand me at once!” the cat-dragon yowled. “If it wasn’t for me, your human kitten would have been swallowed by this brute!”

“He's a golden retriever, Arch! The only things he wants to swallow are dog treats and tennis balls!” Douxie shouted, struggling to hold the writhing mass of black fur and scales in his arms. Lin, obviously upset by the commotion, started to cry. Claire inhaled sharply. Douxie hadn't been exaggerating. She could feel the weight of Lin’s unease pressing down on her. Nari slipped around Douxie and approached Cooper, taking his face between her hands and whispering words of healing and reassurance. Archie finally stopped flailing and settled for simply glaring at the dog while hanging upside-down in Douxie’s grasp. Lin, becoming more upset the longer he was ignored, wailed all the louder.

“Claire, could you--?” Douxie grunted, unwilling to risk setting Archie down.

“Yeah, I got him.” The young witch scooped Lin up in her arms and bounced him gently. He settled down almost at once, staring up at Claire with large, curious eyes. “Hi there, Lin,” she cooed. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“As far as first meetings go, I feel like that could’ve been a bit smoother,” Douxie grumbled. Archie kicked him in the chin with his back paw.

“Cooper did not suffer any grave injuries, but he does wish to go home now,” Nari reported.

“Good. And don’t come back,” Archie snarled.

“Your instincts are admirable, Archie, but they are misplaced,” Nari replied as she coaxed Cooper away from the wall and ushered him on his way. He eyed Archie for a moment, then bolted away, tail tucked between his legs.

“Better to be safe than sorry,” the Familiar spat. “You can’t trust dogs.”

“Arch, we haven’t been chased by any dogs since the 1910s,” Douxie groaned. “You need to lighten up.”

“...Fine. Now put me down.” Douxie dropped him unceremoniously, and he landed on the grass with a draconic snort. He shifted back into his feline form and curled around Claire’s legs, beaming up at the baby in her arms proudly. A very long and awkward silence followed.

“Uh...” Claire glanced nervously between Archie, Lin, and Douxie, before finally landing on Nari, who gave her an encouraging nod. “...A-anybody want some enchiladas?”

Thanks so much for reading! ✨

#tales of arcadia #toa #the casperan family #douxie #toa archie #toa nari #claire nunez #lin casperan #niki answers #fic #archie is a mama bear #and douxie is a disaster

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

Note

questions for dragon and wolf otp ❤️ 11, 17, 25, 31 & 50 :3

Let me tell you, I just adore rambling about these two sad, but beautiful fools. And I'm so happy that people like me rambling about them enough to keep asking questions! >:D

So, let's get ANSWERINGGGGG! >:3

11. Who is the most physically affectionate?

Fane. Fane, Fane, Fane, Fane. Fane is 100% the most physically affectionate. A lot of times, he taps into old habits that he used to do as a dragon when he's with Solas. Nudging, nuzzling, resting his head in the other's lap, etc. As time goes on, Fane branches out and develops more ways to express himself through touch. Leaning his shoulder against Solas', reaching out involuntary to hold hands, sitting behind and wrapping his arms around the other while burying his face into a shoulder, etc.

Fane is touch-starved. He would never admit it, but he is. All his life (both draconic and mortal), he's received only ridicule and harsh treatment. So much so that he disassociates from reality and goes numb, and that's even with Mhairi and Cyfrin around him. It also doesn't help that his literal body is a beacon of pain due to his scars. But, all it takes is a brush of a hand against his own, or cupping of his cheek from Solas and the world sings and feels. It seems cliche, but Solas and Fane both know how it feels to walk through life believing it to only a bad dream. They take solace in each other, and Fane desires it through touch. Not always, of course, Fane and Solas merely find joy in existing in the other's sphere, but when nights are cold and the world feels silent and grey, Fane needs more than what Solas' eyes can offer.

17. Do they ever trade clothes?

Ohhh, you're outing me with this question, you fiend! X'D

*takes a deep breath and taps two fingers together* ...Yes. Yes, they do.

Okay! So, obviously, Fane is built different than Solas. I like to think of Solas as being about 5'7 in height. I also like to think his overall structure is slender, but not like impossibly lithe. It's an in-between deal, but Fane is vastly different in structure and height.

Fane is 6'1. He's not as broad as Bull is, and that's because I don't want people to envision Fane as Qunari in build because he's not. He's athletic, but not immovably bulky. He retains the body shape of the Elvhen--slender and agile, but he does have more muscle mass due to the draconic aspects of himself rolling over.

...And because he wields a heavy ass sword to the point where he can swing it with one hand and barely lose his balance with the momentum. (BUFF ELVES FOR LIFE >:3c)

Anyways, the reason I put the above is it explains why Fane can give his clothes to Solas, but Solas rarely ever gives his clothes to Fane. Short story; Fane's would fit Solas, albeit it loosely, but Solas' wouldn't fit Fane.

...Fane isn't hard pressed by that though. He secretly enjoys when a bucket of water somehow finds its way from the rookery down to the elf's desk, soaking him and forcing him to change. *sips tea* Ahhh~ Nope. Not hard pressed at all.

25. How do they comfort each other when one of them is scared?

Presence, presence, presence.

Solas and Fane find joy in existing around each other without words or touch, but they also find comfort in that, as well.

Fane usually has border-line panic attacks after one of his nightmares and when he has to suffer through a bout of retching from either magic or memories of blood and flesh being torn and ripped from his body. During any such episodes, Solas will ground Fane--asking him gentle questions of 'where and what'.

For example: If it's after a nightmare of his father, Solas will ask, 'Vhenan, do you know where you are?' If Fane manages a nod or a shuddering sigh then Solas will continue with, 'Can you tell me where?'. If Fane responds with the 'correct' location then Solas will shift and ignore the 'what' part of the ritual, instead whispering Elvhen and soothing reassurances of, 'You are fine, ma'isenatha. Breathe. Breathe. Take your time, and I know I am here for whatever you need, whatever you desire.'

However, if Fane struggles or can't articulate then Solas will delve into asking the 'whats'. He'll prompt with simple questions like, 'What is solid?' or 'What is cold?'. These open ended questions are meant to reconnect Fane to the physical world, to pull him from the Fade and his spiraling fear inch by inch by urging him to think beyond what initially caused him to plummet (in this case, his father). This process can take quite a while, depending on how entrenched Fane is in his mind and his memories, but when Fane finally does manage to reconnect and utter, 'I'm...awake... I'm awake. Just a nightmare. I'm in Skyhold. I'm in Skyhold..' then that's when Solas will pull his dragon's head close to his chest and stroke his hair, offering familiarity of a kinder essence.

Now, when Solas finds himself quivering with fear, be it from his own nightmares or a momentary sensation of the world closing in, then Fane will do what he does best; observe. This might seem odd, but Fane does this to determine what will help Solas best. If Solas is tensed up, back rigid and shoulders hunched in a defensive position, then Fane knows to use his voice to coax the man back from the edge. If Solas is prone, posture defeated and visibly shuddering, steady hands trembling and chest rising and falling with increasingly sharper and sharper and sharper breaths then Fane knows immediately that he needs to reach out with touch. Not suffocating with an embrace, but just a grasp of hands, stilling the fearful tremors and giving back control. Fane understands how desperately Solas wants to be in control of any and every situation that involves himself, so the moment he detects the hint of terror in blue and grey from it being lost, then Fane knows that Solas needs him to help him get it back.

Once Solas reestablishes that control and the tremors stop, Fane will silently open his arms for his wolf and if he chooses to take the invitation (which Solas usually does), then Fane will always whisper, 'This dragon will catch you as many times as needed. So, let yourself spiral when it becomes too much; I'm here. I'm always here.'

...As you can see. I think about this a lot. X'D

31. Who is the big spoon and why?

To be honest, Fane and Solas take turns. PFFFT!

It honestly depends on how they both move throughout the night! Though, when they start out, Fane is the big spoon because he has a tendency to...curl. XD

So, you know how dragons are shown just kind of curling up like large cats? That's what Fane does with Solas. He'll burrow his face in our dear wolf's neck, pull him as close as he possibly can, and just...pass out. It's one of the fastest ways Fane falls asleep, actually. Solas, at first, was like, 'Fane? ...Fane?', but once it kept occurring all it got were fond chuckles and a single utterance of, 'Good night, ma'isenatha.'

...Fane just chuffs in his sleep and Solas has to try and keep a straight face. My boy is feral. Don't let him fool you. Don't.

50. Who makes the best flower crown?

You all are catching onto me, aren't you?! Aren't you?! *dinosaur scream*

Indirectly, Fane was the best at making flower crowns. Yes, you heard me. Was.

---

Fane used to wander away from Solas during the time of Elvhenan, seeking the forests and the mountains instead of enduring the piercing eyes of the Evanuris and the boiling rage that nearly made his icy core melt with its heat. As such, he would start...poking around in the meadows, draconic curiosity taking him by the horns. Once, during such a necessary venture, Fane stumbled upon a vibrant patch of blooming Gladiolus--golden and sweet. They swayed with magic and spirited wind, twinkling with the song that encased the entire realm.

They were beautiful in a world that had steadily been on the decline.

Fane nudged a bloom with his snout, blinking and huffing as a bell rung from it--glittering essence drawing out from the center and cascading to the earth below. Had the flower just sang? Sang as the spirits and elves did? He found such a thing curious, and so he had nudged another.

Ring. Another bell. He then nudged another golden chime. Ring. Another bell! They did sing!

Fane huffed again, cool breath sprinkling a light frost over the chiming flowers, but they endured with their beauty, with their eternal nature. His burst of air spurred up glittering pollen, wafting the sweet scent of these delicate bells up to his nostrils without preamble.

They smell of honey, Fane mused and began to gingerly nuzzle into the tiny patch, seeking more sweetness, more beauty. Why had he never seen these blooms before? He had graced this world for many, many centuries, and yet, never once had he observed golden Gladiolus. How odd, but it gave him an equally as odd idea.

The wolf likes honey, yes? Fane thought, eyes narrowing as he stopped his mindless snuffling. A feeling of warmth engulfed his snowy core, scales bristling from the foreign sensation before it ebbed away. Why did he always feel so...strange when he thought of the rebel?

Fane huffed harshly at the warmth coursing through him, actually shaking his head a bit before fixing the dazzling buds with an intense stare.

The wolf likes honey. Fane nodded in agreement with his mind and, with one edge of a sharp fang, sliced into the stem of the sweet bloom of gold. He nudged the severed flower to the side, snorting a bit when some pollen invaded his airways, but shook it off to continue gathering more.

Fane made short work of the small patch of Gladiolus, rising with pride to gaze upon his bundle of petaled nightingales. Each one softly chimed and glimmered, not at all perturbed by being uprooted. He supposed the foundation of magic was not so vile, so long as it was used as it was intended.

Now, I suppose I should head back. Fane growled under his breath at that thought. He didn't wish to go back to...to there. The lair of deceit and pitiful, self-proclaimed 'gods' who had nothing but desire in their single toned eyes. But...the wolf was there, and he wan--no, had to stay by the wolf's side.

Heat filled Fane's core again, making him growl once more and shake out his scales as they bristled with a sensation unnatural. Why did he keep getting so warm?! It was mid-spring! Not the height of summer!

Fane growled as the heat stubbornly refused to abate. Begone, begone, begone! He huffed heavily as the ember trickled away, leaving him cool and all together, snowy. There. Better. It must simply be the magic in the air. It is stronger within these woods.

With the heat of oddity gone and his mind decided, Fane turned his head to gather up his...bouquet? Is that what the Elvhen called it? He had seen arrangements done, but none of them held a flame to the golden blooms he--

Fane blinked, eyes staring down at...a spirit? Wait this spirit who was now holding his flowers was--

Wisdom. Fane immediately thought next, form slowly relaxing as he caught the familiar sight of the kindly spirit. Their body ebbed and flowed like the silk robes worn by the Evanuris, but not for a need to flaunt. It was merely their nature, their being. A womanly face gazed up at him, serene smile in place as golden flowers were cradled in ethereal arms.

"Greetings, White One.", Wisdom greeted, swirling eyes of magic and knowledge somehow appearing fond. "I see you have found a rare flower this day." They gently jostled the bundle in their arms, golden essence puffing forth and sound like that of jingling Sentinel armor.

Fane tilted his head at the spirit. They knew of the flowers that sounded of bells? Before he did? Odd, but he supposed spirits of Wisdom would know such obscure things. Wisdom chuckled softly, voice that of a tender breeze.

"I know many things, isenatha.", Wisdom said, communicating with him easily. Although, most spirits did. They gracefully floated down to the ground, images of legs folding depicting the image of them sitting. "Just as I know of a perfect way for you to present this gift."

Fane blinked and found his eyes darting to and fro, trying to avoid the knowing gaze of Wisdom as they smiled serenely up at him. Damn it all! How he wished his disconnection to the minds of others and they to his worked on spirits!

Wisdom hummed, mimicking the chime that sang from the flowers as they picked one up with a delicate swoop of their hands. Fane watched from his peripheral, somewhat intrigued while still wishing to rebuff he had picked the flowers as a...a gift? How ridiculous! He had only want--thought the wolf would enjoy the scent. Nothing more!

"Please, sit, White One.", Wisdom beckoned with patience and a gentle voice. Their hands began to directly interact with the blooms, summoning a tendril of magic to fabricate a vine. "This will take but a moment." A smile danced on their wispy lips, upper half of their face hooded by a vision of a hooded cloak. "...And I have no doubt Fen'harel will be warmed when you offer him this particular crown."

Fane made a questioning growl, but Wisdom offered no more, resuming the odd task of weaving magical vines and twinkling gold. He watched for a time, curious and puzzled, but soon, he found his body carefully lowering to the ground. He curled up a bit, resting his maw upon his claws and observing the act of the spirit quietly. He caught another smile from the kindly spirit before their face went neutral, focused.

A crown.. Fane mused as he watched just that be formed from both the natural and the imaginable. The warmth from earlier began to invade his body again, but this time, he made no moves to shove it away, so entranced by the delicate weaving of gold and blue. He merely narrowed his eyes and watched, letting the ember steadily grow. I want to see the sky smile.

Fane completely missed the tender look in Wisdom's otherworldly eyes, so besotted by the idea of a sight he shouldn't, but would desire.

---

Oh GOD, I blurbed! *yoinks this snippet for potential fuel for later* >:3

#asks #oc: fane lavellan #solas #solavellan #dragon age #ask #thank you so much for the ask friend! X3 #i know the fear one is kind of touching on anxiety and whatnot but i think it falls into the same category :3 #yes. fane knew wisdom which makes later FUUUUN *cries*#dragon!fane is very confused by what he's feeling and is a proud son of a gun PFFFT #*is thinking about solas in one of fane's tunics* ...i am so predictable

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dragon-fics · 3 years

Text

DOS: (The Dragon Prince UA*) Raining Love (Female Dragon-Shifter X Female Moonshadow elf/Reader)

Chapter summary: You're a Moonshadow elf who was out training during the rainiest autumn Xadia has ever had. After suffering a nasty slip, you meet your savior.

~Requested~

*UA = Universe Alteration

I'm back my dragonlings! I have a writing-filled summer ahead! Here's the first request to start us off!

Happy Pride y'all🏳️‍🌈!

Btw if you're interested, I have a TDP fanfic with the same UA as this. And I absolutely didn't give my OC a mention in this (I saw an opportunity and I took it! lmao). It's called His Apprentice and I'll be finishing it soon and starting its sequel; please check it out! <3

(I've been playing and reading too much Dragon Age and so the slang "knife-ears" had to make an entrance in here :3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T/O/W = Type of Weapon (bowblade, sword, daggers etc.)

The mossy tree branches squelched beneath my navy boots as I ricocheted from giant tree to giant tree, wielding my (T/O/W). I sliced it through thin air, imagining humans facing my wrath as I hopped from one wet tree to another.

Gripping the damp bark of the nearest tree, I slid to a halt, standing on a broad branch. I placed my weapon(s) away and looked up at the sky. Beyond the dark green canopy, I could see dark rain clouds looming closer to me and the Silvergrove, ready to spill thousands and thousand of raindrops down onto us—again.

That was all this week had been; rain, rain and what’s this? More rain.

I sighed irritably and turned around, back towards the hidden Moonshadow elf village. I leaped my way quickly to the village, bounding through the trees with ease; until the rain poured.

My boots, the moss and the bark got wetter and slippier, causing me to lose balance a few times, but I quickly made up for it. Until I reached a huge star plum tree—the tree with the smoothest bark in all of Xadia.

To avoid a fall, I grabbed a branch on the plum tree and swung onto another tree. As I landed, my boots slid and my feet went from under me.

The impact when my back hit the branch winded me, and before I could bury a dagger from my belt into the tree, I slipped off the branch, plummeting to the ground. I screamed, my limbs flailing. I had no way to avoid falling to my death, no way to survive.

Several branches smacked me in the face, scratching my skin. One branch even had the audacity to hit my forehead... and then it went black.

*-*-*-*

The first thing I heard when I came to was the pitter-pattering of rain against wood and metal. The sound almost tempted me to keep my eyes closed and drift off again. But then a dull throbbing arose, and my head ached. I peeled open my eyes as it all came back to me; my training routine, the slick moss, the pouring rain, the fall…

The fall!

I bolted upright in what appeared to be a bed. An unfamiliar bed at that, covered in a patched quilt. The small house was lit with small flaming torches every metre or so. The quiet crackling of logs burning came from the opposite corner of the room, along with the bubbling sound of something boiling on a stove. My eyes slowly adjusted, realising that someone was at the stove.

“Relax, Knife-ears,” came a disinterested voice from where the bubbling was coming from. She continued stirring what was in the pot. “You’re alright; a mild concussion. But the storm’s getting worse so don’t even think about running off.”

She was a little taller than I was, with large white scaly wings and a narrow trail behind her. She was built strong and slim. Her scales shimmered against the torch lighting. A long white braid fell down her back, almost touching her tail where it joined her back, and two sets of narrow, smooth, elegantly curved horns protruded through her skull. A mix of teals and greens clung to her body as a tight, figure hugging set of leggings and wrapped top. Pale skin peeked through where the clothing didn’t meet around her lower back. She was a dragon-shifter for sure—like that strange dragon-shifter halfling that used to live in the Silvergrove with Rayla and her guardians. What was her name? Daisy? Violet? No, it was...

Heather! That was the halfling. Such a strange little being. Looking back now, I kind of felt bad for the way I ignored her; I was such an idiot, but fitting in was so important as kids. That was why no one was friends with her and no one would dare lose out on popularity by being friends with her.

I shook myself out of my thoughts; now wasn’t time for the guilty reflections I had in the middle of the night, now was the time to get to know this sparkly dragon-shifter. I opened my mouth to speak before realising I had no idea how to start.

“Um, hi?” I started. “I’m—”

“I don’t care who you are, Knife-ears,” she said, not looking up from her meal. She sighed and continued stirring.

I huffed. “I’m (Y/N),” I pushed on. Who are you?”

“The magic fairy who lives in this magical forest,” she sighed.

I grumbled. “So why did you rescue me, o magical fairy?”

She sighed again. I really wanted to slam my palm up her nose. “Don’t call me that. If you must call me anything, I am Zaithi. Zay for short.” She paused as she lifted her pot off the stove, stirred it one more time, and poured some into a small bowl. “And I didn’t rescue you. You got caught in one of the branches above my home. An elf lying unconscious above my home is sure to scare off well-paying customers.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not—nothing in this room looked like something people would come in to purchase something.

“So,” she continued, “I brought you inside and treated your head injury. You’re welcome.”

At this rate, I wasn’t too sure if everything she said was a joke. “Um, thanks, by the way.”

Zay hummed dismissively and came over with the small bowl of whatever she’d been cooking. Seeing her face made my heart pause beating for a second. She was exquisite with a slender face—not as slender as an elf’s—and round, icy blue cat-like eyes. I also noticed that at the front her top spiked upward, baring her toned stomach at me. “Here, this will fight off any cold you’ll pick up.”

I took the small wooden bowl from her in both hands. “What is it?” I asked, curiously. I smelled delicious. I took a sip. The liquid was thick and clear, with a few floating chunks in it that were soft and barely needed to be chewed.

“Phoenix-guts-and-toad-brain soup,” she said with a grin.

I spat out the soup, surprised and disgusted.

Zay laughed wildly, wiping away a tear from her eye. “Oh, Knife-ears, you’re too gullible.” She snorted. “I’m joking; it’s elfroot-and-bogey-berries soup with some homegrown veggies.”

I looked from her to the soup. “From now on I’m going to presume everything you say is a joke,” I said, taking a sip of the soup.

She chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the first.” She pulled out a chair from the square table between the stove and the fireplace and sat backwards in it, facing me.

“So, why did you actually help me?” I asked, pulling the quilt back up around me, wrapping it around my shoulders.

Zay shrugged. “Guess I had the skills to prevent you from getting ill so I figured I might as well use them.”

I cocked a brow at her, pushing her for more.

She sighed—again. “My parents insisted I be a healer—like my mother was so she could help in the war before I was born. Though really, I want to be a soldier—like my father, though he didn’t have much of a choice in being one.” She looked aside to where my (W/O/C) lay on the floor with my belt of knives.

I glanced at them as well, and she rested her head on her crossed arms. I felt sorry for her, forced to be something she’s not. “I could teach you,” I blurted.

Zay lifted her head ever so slightly, as if she wouldn’t dare get her hopes up too high. She nodded a little. “Sure, if you want.”

*-*-*-*

“No warrior stops because of a little rain!” I scowled as Zay headed for the door. Dark spots of sweat coloured her top and the back of her leggings after our hours of training.

She sighed, gripping her wooden sword. “I am not getting caught in a thunderstorm, (Y/N)!” she shouted, determined to stay as dry as possible. “Go home before you get struck by lightning, Knife-ears.”

I crossed my arms grumpily and grabbed my bag. I was tempted to go home and stay dry, but... staying dry with Zay…

My heart skipped, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the thought. “Wait!” I called as she closed the door. I bolted towards it and she opened it just in time. I crashed into her, my face on her chest. She closed the door behind me, smirking.

“What a delightful picture I’m looking at,” she quipped—I think. She wrapped her muscular arm around me and I stayed still, heat rising to my cheeks and my heart racing faster—I really liked this.

I gave her an awkward smile. I had been so honest with her these past few weeks; she knew I wasn’t interested in male elves. And I was sure she knew what I was feeling.

“Everything alright, Knife-ears?”

I hesitated, slowing my heart and softening my expression. “Yeah, just glad to be dry.”

“For now,” she smirked, taking my lips.

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