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mediumgayitalian · 6 months

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By all accounts, Will knows what he’s doing.

He still drives like a godsdamn maniac.

“Do you want us to die?” Nico hollers, cheeks aching from the force of his grin, belly flipping at the peal of Will’s laughter.

The bike is exhilarating, as Will weaves it around cars at unbelievable speeds, working with the bike like it’s a part of him, like it’s not a separate thing he has to move. He steers it with a natural ease Nico’s only really seen in some of the best pegasus riders in camp — he knows the machine intimately enough to anticipate how it moves, how it reacts. It really is an extension of his body.

He left any panic about gripping onto Will somewhere in Long Island — to let go would be suicide. He has to hold on to stay onto the bike, to know to lean when Will leans, to tense when he tenses. Besides that, he’s having fun. He’s not the one driving, so he’s free to rest his helmet on Will’s back and watch as the world whips by — dizzying, really, as the speed of the bike making the green-budding trees melt into the bright blue skies, mix with the tar black asphalt, glow under the sparkling sun. The whole world looks like sidewalk chalk after it rains, a swirling mass of colour and streaks as artistic or more than what it was before it was washed away. The only indication that they’re actually going anywhere rather than standing straight in the middle of a kaleidoscope is the spots of roadside green that pop up every now and again, or a heavy lean to the side and Will switches lanes.

As they pull out of New York, Will starts to slow down. The dizzying mass of colours calms until everything’s at a slow spin, as Will mellows out to a speed that can be registered on a mortal odometer. With less wind whipping all over, Nico can actually hear him.

“Better than a flying chariot?”

Nico grins. “Definitely.”

“Another great thing about this is that it has a CD player. Two-nothing for the sad hunk of wood.”

By great thing Will of course means the same four songs I’ve been obsessed with for a month playing over and over and over until you are ready to launch yourself off the bike and join the dead raccoon at the side of the road, but that still doesn’t manage to ruin it. Something about driving top speeds in the early spring air makes it hard to be annoyed about annoying.

(Or maybe it’s the way Nico can feel Will’s muscles shift every time he moves, or how he winks every time he catches Nico’s eye in the mirrors, or the lowkey kind of sinful the way he straddles the seat. But Nico is quite happy sharing a name with a river in Egypt, so he ignores these fun facts and continues to delude himself, an art in which he is become quite wondrously skilled.)

Somewhere between Jersey and Delaware, the traffic picks up again, so Will shouts for him to hold on and cranks up the speed. Nico clenches tightly around his waist, squeezing his eyes shut, this time, and listens to the roar of air as they shove through it fast enough to rival sound. When they’re drifting, again, Nico can feel an incline, and looks up just in time to watch Will exit off the highway.

“Are we here already?” he shouts, incredulous. He knows his ADHD makes him bad with time, but jeez — it can’t have been more than an hour, an hour and a half.

“Not yet,” Will says, barely having to raise his voice as they come to a stop, heel of his boot clicking on the pavement. He checks both ways and then, once nothing comes around the bend, pushes off and guides them down a winding back road, tipping around curves and speeding down hills. Nico’s stomach bottoms out every drop, and he can’t clamp down the giggle that pushes out his throat, as ridiculous as it is. Luckily, Will’s giggling, too.

In a few minutes, they pull up to an old, rusted gas station, with signs so old they’re hand-painted. Will kills the engine and flicks out the kickstand, pulling off his helmet and shaking out his hair. It’s such a tangled mess that Nico can’t help but reach out and tug on a lopsided curl.

“I didn’t think this thing needed gas.”

“It doesn’t!” He pats a dark piece of glass in between the handlebars. “It’s solar-powered. But I figured you could use a minute to stretch your legs, and frankly, if I don’t eat something soon I genuinely might cook you.”

“You forgot to eat today, didn’t you.”

“…No.”

As soon as he speaks, his eyes start to water. His throat swells. He holds his breath for a noble four seconds, and then starts wheezing.

Nico sighs heavily. “Dumbass.”

Hauling him upright by the collar, Nico drags him towards the little corner store. This, at least, is familiar. Will gets caught up in his work easily, and forgets to do things like eat or move or, on one particularly amusing occasion, breathe. (Just tipped right over, one day, onto the floor, mid-poultice. There is a chip on the side of the stone mortar to this day. Nico, Will’s other friends, and his siblings take shifts bringing it up to dunk on him properly. Last he checked, Lou Ellen commissioned Jake Mason to make a plaque to hang on the infirmary wall, memorializing the incident forever.)

“C’mon, stupid. Let’s get you a sandwich. And Benadryl.”

“I’m honestly fine,” Will wheezes, cheeks swelling slightly.

“Stop talking,” Nico orders. “You’re making it worse.”

Wisely, Will clamps up. That, or his throat is starting to close. Either is likely.

His stubborn determination to continue lying despite being literally allergic to it would be impressive, if it wasn’t so irritating.

A little bell rings by the door when Nico pushes it open, making the person sitting behind the counter look up.

“Ah,” they say sagely, folding up their newspaper. “Demigods.”

Immediately, Nico’s on alert. Before he can draw his sword, though, Will lifts a hive-spotted hand in a wave.

“Hey, Berchio,” he croaks.

The person at the counter — Berchio — smiles ruefully.

“Benadryl?”

Nico nods hesitantly, still a little wary at the stranger, but Will is starting to keen over, now, and Nico didn’t think to bring an Epi-Pen (since the allergy is totally avoidable, William, you are your own worst enemy), so he’s running out of options. “Please.”

Chuckling to themself, Berchio ruffles around a shelf by the checkout counter, locating the familiar bottle after a minute — Will gets himself into these situations a lot, he has a serious twizzler problem and should consider getting his own stash instead of lifting it from the Hermes cabin and then lying about where it went — and rolling towards them. The spokes of their wheelchair have little skull charms on them that make a pleasant tinkling noise as they spin, making Nico trust them instantly. He should get Chiron wheel beads. That’s sick as hell.

“Here, kid. Drink water, too, you’re going to dry yourself out.”

Will garbles out a thank you, choking down the medicine. As all meds do with Apollo’s children, lucky bastards that they are, it works quickly, and in minutes he’s breathing right again.

“Gods, I love oxygen.”

“You are a human disaster,” Nico informs him. “Like, hugely.”

Will takes a sip of his water, pondering that. “Is that more embarrassing for you, or for me?”

“Why the hell would it be embarrassing for me?”

“Well, since you like me so much.” Nico chokes. “I might be a disaster, but at least I don’t have a crush on one.”

“All this wheezing,” Berchio sighs. “This must be Nico?”

“The one and only,” Will says cheerfully. He reaches out and touches a warm hand to Nico’s throat, immediately clearing his airways. Now no longer struggling for breath, Nico darts out and punches him, hard, on the arm.

“Ow! Meanie!”

“You are such a derp-faced dweeb,” Nico hisses, fully aware he’s red in the face. “Why are you — why are you this way.”

“I’m gonna tell Chiron you were bullying me!”

“Tell him! I’ll tell him you were the one to sprinkle instant mashed potatoes all over the grass before it rained, not Cecil!”

Will snaps his mouth shut. “I told you that in confidence.”

Nico smiles smugly. “Well, that’s on you. My loyalties are about as secure as my parent’s relationship.”

“If you two are finished flirting,” interrupts an amused voice, making both of them jump. Berchio watches them with their arms crossed, eyebrow raised in a similar chiding way to Chiron last time he caught Nico attempting to sneak an entire tray of brownies from the kitchen (mark his words — as soon as he can shadow travel again, no other camper will be seeing a brownie as long as they shall live). They shake their head, tutting exaggeratedly. “My, my, Will, I’m beginning to understand why you mentioned him every time you opened your mouth. I figured you liked him, but this is ridiculous.”

For once, Will is the one to flush crimson. He stutters something entirely incomprehensible, gesturing vaguely towards Berchio, and then frantically towards Nico, and finally squawks something about trust and the breaching of it. He goes red to the very roots of his hair, clamping his own mouth shut mid-sentence and scowling something awful.

Suddenly, Nico gets it. This is why no one ever leaves him alone. Oh, he is loathe to give the assholes he’s friends with credit, but…

When does he ever get to see Will — confident, easy Will — go scarlet?

“So you like me,” he says, shit eating grin stretching across his face. “Oh ho ho ho.”

“Oh, shut up,” Will snaps, without any heat. “Last time we played volleyball you got a concussion ‘cause you couldn’t stop staring at my chest and took a ball to the face.”

“That — it was — that hit was malicious,” he sputters. “And how is it my fault you’re always ditching your shirt at the first available opportunity like some kind of whore? I couldn’t not look!”

“Avert your eyes, then, scoundrel!”

“I — don’t call me a scoundrel! You’re a scoundrel!”

“You’re both late, is what you are,” Berchio interrupts again. “Will, I assume you’re running an errand?”

Still a little flushed, Will nods. “Yes. Thanks, Berchio. We’re picking up parts in Roanoke, I just stopped for some food.”

“He forgot to eat this morning,” Nico pipes up. He figures that Berchio seems comfortable enough with Will that they can act as a disappointed authority figure, which will make Mr. Daddy Issues Solace crumple like a castle built on a pillar of sand — he needs the humbling. (Also, Nico will get him on a healthier track or die trying. It’s not fair that he gets to be a big hypocrite about good diet and eating and sleeping habits and then turn around and act a fool. Someone needs to watch out for the idiot, or he’s going to get himself killed, and then Nico is going to have to spend the rest of his life in the Underworld, yelling at him.)

“William.”

Nico’s theory is proven correct. Berchio stares at Will with the perfect mix of disappointment and concern, immediately triggering the scramble-to-please expression on Will’s face. He practically stumbles over himself trying to follow after him and get fed.

“Are you happy with a sandwich, Nico? I know Will’ll eat anything that even remotely looks like food, but most of us have standards,” they tease.

Nico snorts at Will’s offended pout. “Yeah, a sandwich is more than fine. Thanks, Berchio.”

After handing them both a sandwich they pull from one of the many fridges in the little convenience store, they guide them outside, parking their wheelchair next to the curb they sit on and joining them in a little picnic.

“So how do you know each other?” Nico asks, gesturing between the two of them.

Will answers first, because Berchio, who is a polite person with manners, takes the time to swallow their food.

“I stop here all the time,” he says, garbled, making both Nico and Berchio wince. Nico takes the initiative to kick him.

“Stop being disgusting and explain yourself without showing off the contents of your mouth,” Nico threatens, “or I’m going to stab you again.”

Will swallows, sticks out his tongue, and continues.

“First time I used the bike, I got it into my head that I should go visit my mom. Would’ve been fine, except I was thirteen and hadn’t been outside of camp in six years and got chased by a pack of empousai the second I left the city, basically.”

“I was collecting herbs and sensed him coming,” Berchio explains. “He crossed the borders I have set up; I hid him here. Now he stops by whenever he’s travelling to chat.” Berchio smiles warmly. “I appreciate the company.”

Will grins back. “Me too! Plus, I very much appreciate the herb exchange. Speaking of which, I have your goldenrod.”

He digs into his jeans pocket, pulling out a bundle. He hands it over to Berchio, who accepts it gratefully, handing over their own bundle to Will.

“And your witch hazel.”

“Berchio’s an Ipotane,” Will explains, catching sight of Nico’s furrowed brow. “They’ve been doing this healing stuff for centuries. They’re real good with salves.”

Nico shakes his head fondly. “Even when you’re being cool, you’re a nerd.” He gestures to the bike. “Taking your secret motorcycle to visit your secret mentor to learn more about healing. Gods, it’s like Apollo made you in a lab.”

“You take that back! I contain multitudes!”

“And now you’re quoting famous poems, dear gods, try to prove my point better, why don’t you —”

“Blah blah blah!”

Nico grins at him, rolling his eyes, and Will is just as playfully dramatic with his bit lip and hidden smile and the hair he tucks behind his ear like he does when he wants to touch somebody but isn’t sure if it’s invited. Nico answers the question for him, reaching out and flicking his knuckles as an excuse to touch his hands. Will takes it, beaming.

“Thank you for the food, Berchio,” Will says when they finish, leaning down to hug them. “We gotta get going, but I’ll be back in a couple weeks. I had a dream about an outbreak, so no doubt the infirmary will need restocked soon.”

“Bring your boyfriend next time,” Berchio suggests, grinning when Nico goes red at the term. “Watching the two of you was not unlike one of Sterne’s famous productions.”

“I take offence to that,” Will says haughtily.

“Good. You needed humbling.”

“Nobody appreciates me around here!”

Nico bites back the I do that threatens to escape his throat. Gods, he’s so embarrassing. Whoever taught him how to speak should have to pay for their crimes.

They head back to the bike, waving goodbye to the Ipotane and speeding off. The drive the rest of the way down south is much calmer, bellies full and energy somewhat spent, and it helps that there’s no traffic. Will cruises, keeping time with the sun that’s inching across the sky, ignoring Nico’s suggestion to attempt to race his dad. They arrive in Roanoke in good time, following Nyssa’s scrawled directions to the parts shop.

The shop is old, visibly, paint peeling and smelling strongly of car grease. As Nysa predicted, the person they speak to — a mechanic, by the look of her jumpsuit — doesn’t ask so much as a single question at the two teenagers rolling up to her doorstep, heading to the greasy shelves of car parts and grabbing what they need with a shrug.

“Well,” says Will slowly as she piles them on the counter, “that’s…more than I anticipated.”

Nico looks at the stack of twisted metal. He looks at the bike. Finally, he looks at his dumbass friend.

“Solace.”

Will scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah?”

“Solace, tell me you have space to put this stuff.”

“Well, we can try the seat compartment?”

Nico buries his head in his hands. “Solace.”

“What!”

“You know what, lughead! We cannot do the one thing we came here to do! Gods!”

“I usually go on supply runs for the infirmary, okay!” Will cries. “That stuff is way less bulky! I forgot to compensate!”

Nico groans. At this point, they’re going to have to bus back, or something equally as stupid. And what are they gonna do with the bike? Gods, if Nico was here by himself and also maybe possibly with Reyna, who could share her strength, he’d just —

He stills.

“Oh, no,” Will says, pointing a stern finger, “oh, no, di Angelo, I know that look, you have been expressly banned —”

“Relax,” Nico grumbles. “Don’t you trust me?”

“With everything,” Will says automatically, then flushes for the second time that day. “But that is not the point —”

Deciding he will return to that later — and he most certainly will — Nico darts forward. Before Will can stop him, he puts both hands on the pile of parts, lunges towards the nearest shadow, and shoved them in, withdrawing as quickly as he can manage.

“Nico!”

He waits.

“Oh, you fuckin’ — you goddamn son of a mother!”

He checks his hands — still solid.

“I am going to smash you flat an’ feed you through a goddamn juicer! You fuckin’ heart-stopper!”

He grins. “I told you I could do some Underworld magic.”

“Underworld deez fuckin’ nuts!” Will stomps forward, grabbing Nico’s hands to do his own inspection. “What part of doctor’s orders are you missin’, huh? You think I wanna watch you fade again? You think I wanna —” His voice cracks, hands tightening around Nico’s wrists. Nico softens immediately, smug look melting into something gentler.

“Will.”

“You coulda died, Nico, you coulda faded to — to nothin’.”

“Will.” He flips his hands so his palms meet Will’s, and squeezes, smiling gently. “Feel my vitals, dork. Am I fading?”

Will exhales. “No.”

“Am I close?”

“…No.”

He squeezes again. “I’m fine, Will.”

“You scared me.” The anger in his voice has faded into something soft — something afraid. Suddenly the hands on his wrists feel more clingy than anything, and a twinge of guilt goes off in Nico’s stomach.

“I’m sorry.” He squeezes Will’s hands one last time, and when that doesn’t do much, lets go to wrap around his cheeks, instead, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I don’t mean to restrict you,” Will says softly. “It’s just — I worry, is all.”

Nico taps their foreheads together, smile pulling at his face. This, he can — this he can deal with. This version of Will, soft and nervous and caring, makes it a lot easier to slide his fingers into the mess of Will’s curls, to run his thumbs over his cheekbones and feel him shiver.

“Would that have anything to do with the alleged crush you have on me?”

Will grins. “It might.” One of his hands comes up to rest on top of Nico’s, brushing over his knuckles. “All your moonin’ after me had me looking twice, I guess.”

“You’re such a dick,” Nico scoffs, and yanks him down to meet him in the middle, laughing, swallowing his smile and relishing in the warm press of their bodies. It’s — gods, it’s everything, it’s a thousand times better than he imagined, and at the same time everything he expected. Will smells like wind and sunshine and his lavender shampoo, and his hands are roughened from all the antiseptic he has to use, and his lips are surprisingly chapped, but the press of his cheeks is soft, and the feel of him is overwhelming. It feels, as cliche as it is, like the final burst of a firework after watching the smokey trail of the rocket with bated breath, watching it crest the night sky before exploding, finally, amongst the stars, it’s like —

A cleared throat startled them apart.

“Anytime y’all feel like paying for those parts, it would be great.”

Will grins sheepishly. “Sorry,” he says, pulling out the money Chiron gave him. His grin turns sly, and Nico’s knees turn to jelly. “My boyfriend’s just super distracting.”

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hamsterclaw · 9 months

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Flame

Bangtan Christmas 2023 drabble 4 - read the rest here.

A wounded man falls out of the sky and lands in your garden, plunging you into a world of danger and dragons. Part of the Royal Pain AU (Royal Pain, Dragonfire), featuring dragon rider! Jimin.

Pairing: Jimin x f! reader

Genre: Dragon rider! Jimin

Rating: 18+

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, mentions of blood and injury

The man who lands in your garden looks like he’s fallen out of the sky. He’s hurt, bruised, bleeding from a long gouge that runs down the side of his neck to his chest.

It takes you a while to drag him into your cottage but you manage eventually.

You start piecing him together again, wound by wound. First, the wound on his neck, that you clean and stitch together, using your finest embroidery thread, a remnant of your mother’s fondness for crafts.

The other bruises and grazes you smother in a salve made of St John’s wort your grandmother used to swear by.

You replace his ruined clothes and finally, exhausted, lay him to rest in your bed. You curl up next to the fire in your hearth and go to sleep yourself.

You awaken, with a start, to a growl in your ear and a pressure against your neck, under your jaw.

‘Who are you?’ demands the man you saved. His eyes are fiery, his grip on your throat surprisingly strong considering how injured he was.

You stammer your name, and haltingly explain how you found him.

‘Where am I?’ he asks.

It’s when you’re telling him that you’re on the outskirts of Ijil that he seems to calm, a little, enough to release his hold on your neck.

It’s a few moments until you get your breath back.

He watches you, eyes hard and cold, a sharp contrast to the softness of his features.

The man you rescued has blond hair, warm, honeyed rather than icy platinum. He has a jawline so sharp it looks like it could cut you, but his lips —-

His lips are full, rosy, and look like they’d be soft to kiss.

You realise you’re staring at him.

‘I won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t have taken you in and tended your wounds if I intended to do you harm,’ you say.

There’s a trickle of wet down your neck, where the point of the knife he held against you pierced your skin.

Moving slowly so as not to startle him, you press your fingertips to your skin, wincing as they come away bloodstained.

His grip on the knife he must have found in your kitchen loosens. He puts the knife down, watching you.

‘I’ve got bread, and stew, if you’re hungry,’ you offer.

He says nothing, but follows you into your kitchen.

You pour him a glass of water as you heat up the food you made. You pass him a hunk of bread.

He tears into it like he’s ravenous.

You’re so busy watching him it takes you a moment to catch up when he speaks.

‘You’re bleeding,’ he says.

His accent isn’t an Ijil one, but you’re not surprised. You’d seen the mark on his chest when you’d undressed him.

He’s a dragon rider.

Half a year ago, an Ijilian woman and child had been kidnapped by a dragon rider from Eosul. Attempts to rescue them had resulted in a huge fire that had burned down half of an Ijilian village.

Ijilians are good at magic but not known for fighting skills.

The unrest and bad blood since the kidnapping has gradually built up, to the point where if one of your clients knew you were harbouring a dragon rider, you’d fear for his safety.

You patch up the small, deep cut on your neck from the knife whilst the dragon rider eats.

You wash your hands and take the seat across from him, filling your plate.

You eat in silence.

‘I’m Jimin,’ he says, when his plate is empty. You offer him more food but he declines.

He gestures to his neck. ‘I’m sorry I cut you.’

‘It’s fine,’ you tell him. You pick up your empty plates to clean.

‘You can stay here until you heal up,’ you say, meeting his gaze. ‘You’re safe.’

You don’t think he entirely trusts you, but he’s too tired and injured to question you.

‘I woke up in a bed,’ he says, and you notice that he’s gone a little more pale and sweaty. ‘Is it yours? I can sleep elsewhere.’

‘Just take the bed,’ you say, brisk. ‘Are you in pain? I have a pain powder you can have.’

You see the flare of suspicion in his eyes, and know he’s going to refuse before he says it.

‘I’m fine,’ he insists. He turns and walks stiffly to your bedroom.

You clear up and prepare a herbal blend for one of your clients before you go to sleep yourself.

***

You wake to a knocking at your door. The sun, when you peer blearily out of the window, is high in the sky.

It’s a stunning day, bright and crisp. You open the door and greet Adara politely. Adara is one of the elders of the village you live on the outskirts of, a shrewd woman with powerful blue magic. She was a great friend of your grandmother’s.

You hand her the herbal blend you formulated for her tea and offer her a drink.

Adara declines. You’re turning away when her hand touches your chin.

‘What happened, love?’ she asks, concerned. ‘Did Bern get rough with you again?’

‘No, it was an accident,’ you tell her.

Adara narrows her eyes at you but lets it slide.

‘You should get more sleep,’ she says to you, kindly. She wraps her shawl tighter around herself and bids you goodbye.

You’re still thinking about Adara when you go to wash your face. You push open the door to your bathroom and stop in your tracks.

Jimin’s got his hands braced against the washbasin. His bare back is tense, muscles rippling as he washes his face.

Your eyes meet in the mirror.

‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise, quickly. ‘I’m used to living alone.’

You’re backing out of the bathroom when he says, ‘wait. I’m finished.’

He steps carefully past you. His shoulder brushes against yours. He stops for a moment, looking at your face.

‘I’ll fix breakfast,’ you tell him.

He says, ‘thank you,’ quietly.

You nod and step into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

***

Jimin sits opposite you at your little kitchen table. He looks tired still, and in pain, but he’s less pale than he was.

He grimaces as he lifts his right arm, the side of the long gouge on his neck. You’re not surprised, you’d seen the bruises over his chest and torso.

‘Why are you helping me?’ he asks.

‘You fell into my garden,’ you remind him. ‘I couldn’t just leave you there.’

‘You know I’m a dragon rider,’ he says. It’s not a question.

‘Are you?’ you say, pretending to be surprised.

For a moment he stares at you, then he laughs.

‘Are you a healer?’ he asks.

‘My grandparents were. I inherited some of their magic.’

Jimin takes a tentative sip of the tea you brewed him. He glances at you, appreciative. ‘This is delicious.’

You’re pleased he’s enjoying it.

There’s another knock on your door.

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes when you see who it is.

Bern’s one of the very few people your age in the village. He’s a spellcaster, which would be fine if he wasn’t also convinced he’s Jaesu’s gift to womankind.

He’s been handsy with you in the past, sometimes a little too rough. You’d be loath to do business with him if he wasn’t one of your biggest customers.

He looks curiously at Jimin, sitting at your table.

‘He’s a cousin, from Eosul,’ you say, quickly. ‘Jimin, this is Bern, he lives in the village.’

Jimin nods.

‘He’s not a dragon rider is he?�� Bern jokes. His gaze sharpens on Jimin’s wounded neck.

You laugh and push Bern’s order into his hands.

‘If I knew a dragon I’d get him to burn your ass,’ you say, cold.

Bern takes the package and catches your wrist as you pull your hands away.

‘Mouthy,’ he says.

You tug your wrist out of his grasp.

‘Thanks for your custom,’ you say, voice heavy with sarcasm.

You let Bern out and lean against the door, hand rubbing your wrist absently.

Jimin speaks up from the table. ‘Is he always that way?’

‘That’s him on a nice day,’ you reply, thinking of the time he pushed you up and pinned you against your kitchen door, just long enough that you started to get worried.

You start to clear up. ‘You should get some rest, if you want.’

‘Can I help you with anything?’

‘Not looking like you’re about to keel over,’ you reply. You regret the harshness of your tone as soon as the words come out of your mouth.

You apologise. ‘I’m sorry. I’m going into the woods to forage for herbs. I’ll be back in the evening. Will you be all right? I’m not expecting any other customers today.’

Jimin gets up, slowly. ‘I should head back to Eosul.’

‘You can barely walk,’ you point out.

There’s silence as you gaze at each other across your tiny kitchen.

‘If you go, there’s food in the pantry, and medicine,’ you say. ‘Help yourself to anything you think you’ll need.’

‘Thank you,’ Jimin says.

You nod, lift your cloak off its peg, and leave.

****

Your little cottage is dark when you return from foraging, arms full.

You push open the door and step over the threshold.

It takes you a few practised movements to light the oil lamp in the kitchen, a few more to get a fire going in the hearth.

You don’t sense anyone else.

You’re a little disappointed that Jimin’s left but you guess as a dragon rider he’s used to being injured.

You wash up, get changed and go back to the kitchen to store your herbs.

The kitchen door’s standing open, letting in the chill.

A moment later the shape of a man fills the doorway.

‘Sorry,’ Jimin says, slightly winded, carrying an armful of timber for your fire. ‘I saw you were nearly out.’

‘Thank you,’ you say. He stores the wood whilst you separate your herbs.

‘I was going to have dinner. Would you like to join me?’

Jimin smiles at you. The light of the fire flatters his beautiful skin, picks out the gold in his hair.

‘I’d like to stay.’

You heat up yesterday’s stew whilst he cuts the bread and fills a jug of water. He frowns as the back door swings open.

‘The latch is broken, I’ve been meaning to fix it,’ you explain, pulling the door to, tying the makeshift latch you’ve fashioned with a bit of old rope and a plank.

Jimin says, ‘here.’

He steps forward and ties an intricate looking knot, fastening the plank tightly.

‘It should hold until I can fix the latch,’ he says, looking at it critically.

You smile. ‘You’re a guest, an injured one at that,’ you say, gently. ‘Come on, the stew’s ready, let’s eat.’

Jimin seats himself opposite you, startles you by reaching for your neck.

You put up a hand reflexively, and he puts his hands up.

‘Your neck,’ he says, frowning at the cut in your skin he made yesterday.

‘Ah,’ you say, self- conscious. ‘I should have gone to wash up.’

Up in your small washroom, you clean and patch the cut, take the opportunity to splash your face with water.

Back at the table, Jimin’s served the stew.

‘Can I look at your neck later?’ he asks. ‘I can stitch too.’

‘It’s fine,’ you tell him.

There’s an awkward silence, then you say, trying to explain, ‘there’s a problem with my blood, all my family have it. We bleed easily, and it takes us a while to heal. Ironic really, given we can heal others.’

Jimin looks at you, and there’s an odd flicker of what almost looks like concern in his eyes.

He’s started to warm to you, but this is unexpected.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, sincerity in his voice.

‘It’s fine, please don’t mention it again.’

You don’t wish to discuss it further, you don’t need a dragon rider from Mount Halji delving into your family history.

You’re clearing your plates after the meal when Jimin says, ‘let me help.’

‘You shouldn’t be doing work,’ you chide. ‘You’ll pull at your stitches.’

‘I’m stronger today.’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ you agree. ‘But you did fall out of the sky just yesterday.’

You bite back a smile at his chagrined expression.

‘Do you want to sit in the garden after this?’ you offer. ‘The lavender’s blooming, and it’s a clear night.’

Jimin ends up insisting on helping you put things away before you head out.

You take a seat on the bench at the bottom of the garden, gesture to Jimin to join you.

You hadn’t realised it’d be as tight a fit with two, but Jimin doesn’t seem to mind.

He leans back, face tipped to the sky.

His profile, outlined by dim light from your kitchen, is beautiful, features sharply delineated but with a softness to them that draws you in.

‘Something on my face?’ he asks, quietly.

‘You’re very handsome,’ you tell him, honestly.

He looks almost shy at your compliment.

‘It’s not important for what I do,’ he says, simply.

‘I’m sure it doesn’t hurt,’ you say, teasing him.

He laughs a little. ‘The men I fight aren’t admiring my looks, I can assure you.’

‘Probably not in the middle of battle,’ you agree.

The stars are brighter than ever tonight, you admire the shapes you can trace from point to point.

‘What’s it like?’ you ask. You face Jimin. ‘Being a dragon rider.’

He takes his time answering.

‘I was born into a family of dragon riders,’ he tells you. ‘My mother was one, as was my grandfather. I don’t know much about anything else.’

‘Cygnus is my bonded dragon,’ he continues. ‘We were battling the spirit thieves east of Maisan.’

He grimaces at the memory. ‘We were losing, badly. Namjoon had put out the call to retreat, but I was close to their leader and I thought I could take him.’

He’s tense beside you. ‘I couldn’t let my rashness hurt Cygnus. The instant I realised my folly I jumped. Cygnus wouldn’t have left me otherwise, he would have fought to his death.’

You can’t imagine being responsible for protecting a creature as powerful as a dragon.

‘Did he get away?’ you ask.

‘I think he did,’ Jimin says. ‘I’d feel it if Cygnus was badly hurt.’ His hand stops over his chest for a moment, over the dragon rider mark you saw when tending his wounds.

Jimin gets up.

‘I’ll sleep by the hearth tonight,’ he says. ‘I’ll leave in the morning. Thank you for helping me.’

You look up at him. Even injured, and weary, he’s beautiful in the moonlight.

You feel a pang of wistfulness. He’s the most interesting person you’ve met in a while, you’ve lived your whole life in this village.

You’ve never even ventured to the plains of Daljeon.

You smile a little sadly. ‘No of course, it was my pleasure. I’m glad you’re feeling better.’

You watch as Jimin re-enters your cottage.

You stay outside for a bit longer, looking up at the stars, thinking.

***

True to his word, Jimin’s left by the time you wake in the morning.

Your latch is fixed, and the salves you’d left on the table for him, along with some supplies for the journey, are gone.

You set about your daily tasks, mechanically at first, but by midday, you’re inspired.

Turns out having a dragon rider fall into your herb garden was just the push you needed to start planning for all the things you’ve dreamed about doing.

You’re going to visit Daljeon. You know Adara’s got family members who live there who would happily put you up for a night or two, and you’ve always wanted to see the plains.

You’re humming to yourself whilst tending to your rosemary, lost in the pleasure and excitement of planning your trip, when you hear the crash in your kitchen.

Your kitchen door bursts open, and Bern and another man, Kit, exit into your garden.

‘What do you want?’ you ask, standing, your fingers tightening around the garden shears you’re holding.

‘Where is he?’ asks Bern. He’s breathing hard, nearly spitting the words.

‘Who?’ you ask, feigning ignorance.

He takes another step towards you. ‘Your cousin from Eosul,’ he sneers. ‘The one that looked a hell of a lot like a dragon rider.’

‘My cousin left,’ you say, ‘and he’s not a dragon rider.’

The lies fall from your lips easily enough, you don’t owe Bern or Kit any explanations.

‘Now get off my property,’ you say sharply. ‘I don’t want you here unless it’s for business.’

Bern’s quick, you’ll give him that.

In two steps he’s on you, big hand squeezing the wrist holding the shears until you cry out with pain and drop them.

‘Your smart mouth’s going to get you in trouble one of these days, soon,’ Bern says.

He deals you a backhanded slap so hard you end up on the ground, knocking the side of your head on the crate that you keep your seedlings in.

You wish you were brave enough to grab the shears and fight back, but you’re mainly just glad that him and Kit are leaving.

You focus on counting blades of grass until the pain recedes, and more importantly, you can be sure you’re not going to cry.

***

Adara takes one look at your face and ushers you in, clucking over you with grandmotherly concern.

‘You should learn a spell or two to keep Bern in his place,’ she says, once she’s satisfied that the bruise on your temple, unsightly though it is, is just a bruise.

‘Shall I get Bern to teach me?’ you ask, trying to make light of the situation. Bern’s the best spellcaster in the village, you’d never be able to cast a spell strong enough to hold him back.

Your strengths are in healing others.

Adara gives you a quelling look. ‘Or perhaps I can ask Yoongi to teach you a thing or two.’

Yoongi, one of Adara’s nephews, is a sage, and definitely wields enough power to keep Bern in his place. The only problem is he’s intimidatingly good-looking.

You’ve met him a few times, at Adara’s family gatherings, and you’ve never been brave enough to speak to him.

You have no desire for him to find out that on top of your shyness and general social ineptitude that you’re also one of the few Ijilians without a magical bone in your body.

‘I’m sure he’s busy,’ you say to Adara hastily.

‘I’ll ask him,’ Adara says, firmly. Then, in a softer tone, ‘I can’t watch Bern hurt you time and again. He’s got to be taught a lesson.’

You know there’s no point in arguing with her, and truly, maybe you could use a little help.

Bern’s scared you badly the last few times he’s visited.

You change the subject. ‘How’s that tea blend I made you?’

***

The knock on your cottage door is unexpected, but you often have people from the village who drop in to see you.

You crack open the door, hoping it’s not Bern or one of his cronies.

It’s not Bern at all.

It’s Jimin.

The smile blooming on your face stops when you realise he’s not alone. There are other men with him, all of whom are dressed in shades of black and grey, and all of whom have the same distinctive mark.

Sweet Jaesu.

They’re dragon riders.

Jimin puts out his hand, and you realise you’ve taken a step back.

He asks, gently. ‘Can Namjoon and I come in?’

‘Namjoon’ turns out to be Lord Namjoon, Commander of the dragon riders of Mount Halji.

He’s a big man, near enough six feet in height, with shoulders that are nearly the width of the doorframe.

His grasp is firm, strong as he shakes your hand and takes a seat at your tiny kitchen table.

‘We’re here to ask for your help,’ he says.

You glance nervously at Jimin, who’s been quiet apart from his initial greeting.

It’s been a week since you saw him last, you can’t fully see under his armour, but it looks like his neck’s healing well.

Jimin looks a bit like he’s trying to reassure you, or so you think.

‘A woman’s been taken from our hold, the life partner of one of our riders,’ Namjoon explains.

He places a locket on the table in front of you, a small portrait of a smiling family. You catch your breath when you see the baby wrapped in the woman’s arms.

‘We know she’s being held captive in Ijil, probably near the border between Ijil and Daljeon.’

Namjoon says, ‘Jimin says you can be trusted. We’d like to use your cottage as a haven for the riders when we come in to rescue her. Her name is Cha.’

You can’t stop looking at the portrait of Cha and her son. He can’t be more than a year old.

‘If anyone from the village found out I was providing shelter to dragon riders—‘ you begin, thinking of Bern.

‘We know it’s a risk to you, which is why Jimin’s been tasked with protecting you,’ Namjoon says.

You look at Jimin again.

Jimin leans forward. ‘You can say no,’ he says. ‘If it’s too much risk for you just say and we’ll go.’

He hesitates. ‘I — we don’t want any harm to come to you.’

‘Our riders would use your land for one night, two at the most,’ Namjoon says. There’s kindness in his voice. ‘As Jimin says, you can say no and my men and I will leave immediately.’

You’re still looking at the locket.

You make up your mind.

‘You can use my land, and my cottage,’ you tell them. ‘I only ask that you be as discreet as you possibly can.’

‘I give you my word,’ Lord Namjoon says. He nods at you, then takes his leave.

Then it’s just you left, and Jimin.

‘Are you healing well?’ you ask.

‘I’ve been using the salves you made,’ Jimin replies. He smiles at you, and again, you’re struck by his beauty.

‘I’m glad,’ you say, smiling back. ‘If you run out let me know so I can make you more.’

‘Thank you,’ Jimin says. He frowns a little, gestures at your temple, the bruise that’s mostly faded to yellow-green.

‘Bern,’ you say. ‘My friend Adara’s going to ask her nephew to help me spellcast so that he’ll stop bothering me.’

Jimin’s expression darkens. ‘I’ll take care of him, if you want.’

‘What happened to keeping a low profile?’ you ask, lightly.

Jimin’s not amused, but he drops the subject.

***

You’re not used to having so much company, as unobtrusive as the dragon riders are, there are a lot of them.

Jimin’s taken it upon himself to stay close to your side at all times, even accompanying you to forage in the woods.

‘Is this useful?’ he asks, holding up a handful of mushrooms.

‘Only if you want all your men to have belly ache,’ you reply. ‘It’s not the most poisonous, but it’s not for eating.’

Jimin drops the mushrooms.

‘Here,’ you say, gently. ‘If you like mushrooms, the puffballs are always safe.’

He kneels down beside you to help you gather puffballs.

‘These are good,’ you say, pointing more out.

‘I don’t spend a lot of time foraging,’ Jimin admits.

He takes your basket from you as you both rise.

‘You have more important things to do,’ you say, smiling at him.

He looks a little uncertain at first, like he’s not sure if you’re teasing him, then he smiles tentatively back at you.

He’s solicitous as he walks with you through the woods, pointing out where the ground’s uneven, holding back branches you could easily duck under.

‘Are you good at cooking?’ you ask, as you gather nettles.

‘You could teach me,’ he says, with an enthusiasm you find endearing.

‘You could teach me how to use a sword,’ you say.

You’re half jesting but Jimin looks like he’s taking your suggestion seriously.

‘Probably not a sword, but I could show you how to use this,’ he says.

He reaches into his belt and pulls out a sleek, deadly looking dagger.

The blade is thin, almost delicate looking, but it’s wickedly sharp.

Jimin hands it to you, handle first.

‘It’s designed to be just long enough to stop a man’s heart,’ Jimin says, ‘but easily concealed.’

He says, with a seriousness in his face that makes you stop and look at him, ‘I would aim for the chest, up under the ribs, and then run.’

You balance the weapon in your palm, testing the weight of it.

‘I don’t know that I’d have the stomach to stab a man,’ you tell him.

‘You could do it,’ Jimin says. ‘If it came down to him or you.’

He undoes the leather sheath hanging from his belt, resheaths the blade, and hands it to you.

‘Tuck it into your boot,’ he says.

‘I couldn’t take your knife,’ you protest, trying to give it back.

‘I can incapacitate a man bare-handed,’ Jimin says. ‘It’s what I trained to do.’

He gives you a smile, angelic in his beauty, blood in his gaze. ‘I like the idea of you using it on that brute.’

For want of anything better to say, you lean down and slip Jimin’s knife into your boot.

***

The dragon riders make short work of the stew you cook for them that evening, vocal in their appreciation.

One rider, a charming man with a face that is so perfect you almost can’t believe he’s real, goes out of his way to thank you, presenting you with a sheaf of lavender, its heady fragrance filling your tiny kitchen.

You’re flustered by his chivalry, stammering out thanks as he gazes at you, when Jimin takes pity on you.

‘Taehyung, leave her alone.’

‘I’m just giving you the thanks you deserve,’ Taehyung says, ignoring Jimin.

He smiles at you. ‘You must be used to compliments, with a face and form like yours.’

Your entire skin warms.

Jimin sighs. ‘Get out of here, Tae.’

Jimin takes your arm gently.

‘The men need to get ready for tonight. They’ll be leaving as dusk falls.’

‘Are you going?’ you ask.

‘I’ll be here with you,’ Jimin says.

‘Don’t they need you?’

‘My responsibility lies in keeping you safe, given the risk you’ve taken for us,’ Jimin replies.

He helps you clear up the dishes, fills a basin for cleaning them.

‘I wish I were more magical,’ you say, with a rueful look at the stack of used crockery.

Jimin laughs. ‘When I started as a dragon rider I had to wash all the dishes. I can take care of it.’

You tidy up in companionable silence, you almost wish it had taken longer because you like Jimin’s company.

He hums a pretty tune as he works, his tone husky, his silvery voice navigating the notes effortlessly.

You like listening to him.

You catch him glancing your way more than once, gaze warm, a smile playing on his full lips.

‘What is it?’ you ask, finally, conscious of the heat in your face from the mead and his proximity.

‘You’re pretty when you’re flustered,’ Jimin says, a twinkle in his eyes.

Sweet Jaesu, is this beautiful man flirting with you?

You’re even more flustered, almost dropping the plate you’re drying.

Nimbly, Jimin lunges forward and catches it.

‘You’ve been on your feet all day,’ he remarks, placing the plate on top of the stack you’ve made. ‘Why don’t you go sit in the garden and I’ll brew us some tea?’

You’re happy to take him up on his offer, as self-conscious as you feel with his eyes on you like this.

As you walk down the path, you realise the dragon riders have left, as quietly and discreetly as they arrived.

The woods are quiet apart from the occasional hoot of an owl.

You must be more tired than you think, for you’re half asleep by the time Jimin comes down the path.

He’s not carrying tea, and he looks troubled.

‘Cygnus is distressed,’ he tells you.

‘Is he with the dragon riders?’ you ask.

Jimin nods. ‘I can’t work out why through the bond, but he’s unsettled.’

He paces along the path, and he looks so unsettled himself that your heart goes out to him.

‘Can you go to him?’ you ask, hesitantly.

‘My duty is here with you,’ Jimin says.

He looks so conflicted you can’t bear it.

‘I’ll go to Adara,’ you say. ‘She’s a quarter of an hour down the road. I’ll stay with her.’

You put your hand on Jimin’s arm, hoping to soothe him with your touch. ‘You should go.’

Jimin looks at you. ‘Will you promise to stay with her until I come back?’

‘I will,’ you say, trying to reassure him.

He nods, once, then takes off, heading through the woods, his swiftness belying his urgency.

You wonder what he sensed from Cygnus.

You head back inside and start to gather your things.

When your back door opens you almost think it’s Jimin at first, it’s so soon after he left.

‘Did you leave —-‘

The words die on your lips when you realise it’s not Jimin at all.

It’s Bern.

He’s different from how he usually is, eyeing you with a silent intensity that makes your skin prickle.

You’re already reaching down into your boot for Jimin’s dagger when he rushes at you, hand over your mouth, slamming you back against the wall so hard the breath rushes out of you.

‘Traitorous bitch,’ he snarls, hand around your throat, squeezing.

Your fingers scrabble desperately to lift your skirts, grasping for the dagger.

Spots start to dance in your vision as you pull the dagger out, stab it at an angle into his arm.

He roars with fury, his grip loosening on your throat.

You gasp and choke on the rush of air that fills your lungs, coughing and spluttering.

You can see Bern grasping the hilt of the dagger, but the angle’s too awkward for him to reach with his uninjured hand.

You roll away so violently you hit the table, knocking it over.

You scramble to your feet, throw a terrified glance at Bern.

To your horror, he’s got the knife out, slashing at you as you pivot out the open kitchen door.

You don’t have time to do anything but run.

***

You lose track of time as you flee, your heart pounding so hard you can’t hear anything over the rush of blood in your ears.

The moon’s high in the sky before you come to your senses, lungs burning, muscles so tense you can’t stop moving.

It’s only then that you become aware that your sleeve is soaked, sticking to you, matted with blood that looks black in the moonlight.

Your whole arm is covered, blood’s splattered across your chest, and the realisation makes you feel cold.

It’s your blood.

There’s a slash in the sleeve of your gown, a gaping wound beneath where Bern must have cut you.

You curse your family’s bleeding tendencies as you rip the rest of the sleeve off, wrap your arm.

You’re trying to secure a knot with your teeth when you realise that you’re lightheaded.

You lay your head down, close your eyes for just a second.

There’s silence all around you, your last thought as you lose consciousness is a sense of relief that you’ve outrun Bern.

***

Jimin sees the light burning in your kitchen still even though it’s nearly dawn by the time he returns, and he picks up his pace, heart quickening.

His sense of disquiet increases as he sees the kitchen door ajar.

By the time he’s in the kitchen, he feels cold all over.

The table’s overturned, the stack of dishes scattered, but that’s not the worst of it.

There’s a trail of blood leading out the door.

Jimin can hear panting, realises it's him but is powerless to do anything about it.

He makes himself look in the house, calling your name, but he already knows the house is empty.

It’s not difficult to track you, to follow your blood spoor.

Jaesu why is there so much blood?

He finds you curled up behind a copse of bushes, hand splayed under your cheek.

You’d almost look asleep if it weren’t for the ashy greyness to your skin, the pool of blood you’re lying in.

Jimin summons Cygnus through their bond, waits for the dragon to return to him.

It’s only when he sees the tears running down your smooth cheeks that he realises he’s crying.

***

You wake in stages, with the strangest sense of having missed something important.

Where are you?

There’s a beamed roof above your head, softness underneath.

You’re in a bedroom.

You swallow, wincing at how dry your lips and throat feel.

When you sit up the room spins alarmingly around you.

You moan quietly, pressing your curled fists into your eyes.

A soft noise makes you turn abruptly.

When your vision clears you recognise the blond hair, the scar running along his neck.

‘Where am I?’ you croak.

‘My home,’ comes the answer.

Jimin holds a glass to your lips, and you gulp gratefully.

The cool water is a balm to your parched throat.

You take stock of the rest of you, the unfamiliar clothing you’re draped in, the tightness of the binding around your upper arm.

You remember moonlight, the woods, the flash of a blade.

Bern.

You close your eyes but it doesn’t help the barrage of memories.

Your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton.

Gradually you become aware of Jimin’s voice, low and soothing.

He’s telling you that you’re safe, and you’re in no condition to do anything but hope he’s right.

***

When you wake again, you’re alone.

There’s another glass of water by your bed, you sit up and drink it down, take stock of yourself again.

Your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton but the room isn’t spinning anymore.

You’re dressed in clothes that aren’t your own, but they cover you, at least.

You swing your legs off the bed, hiss as your bare feet touch the cold floor.

You listen for movement around you, but your instincts tell you that there’s no one in your immediate vicinity.

You exit the bedroom, hesitate on the landing, listen again, then carefully navigate the steps down.

Your arm throbs but it’s not bad.

Daylight through the windows of the front room tells you it’s late afternoon.

You look around curiously.

Jimin had told you you were in his home.

There’s a pile of what looks armour next to the door, leather and chain mail, a sword hanging carelessly on a hook in a scabbard.

His voice startles you.

‘You shouldn’t be out of bed,’ he says.

He’s dressed in a cloth tunic and breeches, boots on his feet.

He’s holding an armful of timber, which he stacks beside the fireplace.

‘Come on. I’ve got some broth for you.’

You follow him into his kitchen, much bigger than yours.

He heats up broth on his wood stove, insists on you sitting down.

He drapes a blanket over your shoulders, and you’re grateful for the added warmth despite your initial protests.

He frowns at you.

‘You lost a lot of blood,’ he says.

‘Your dagger saved me,’ you tell him. You shiver a bit. ‘Bern stopped by, after you left.’

There’s regret in his expression. ‘I’m sorry. I promised no harm would come to you from helping us.’

‘Did you get her back?’ you want to know.

‘She’s safe, back with her family,’ Jimin replies.

‘It was worth it, then,’ you murmur.

Jimin sets a bowl in front of you.

‘You getting hurt isn’t a price that’s acceptable to pay,’ he says, very gently.

His words are unexpected, you flick your gaze to his and are surprised by the emotion on his face.

You feel like you should say something, but you can’t think of anything to say.

You settle for a simple ‘thank you’ in acknowledgement.

You manage a few mouthfuls of the broth before the room starts to grey out around the edges.

Jimin’s voice sounds like it’s coming from very far away.

The last thing you remember is him saying your name, his strong hands grasping your arms.

Everything fades to black.

***

It’s another few days before you’re strong enough to walk around Jimin’s cottage again, to venture out into his garden.

Jimin’s constantly by your side, it doesn’t take you long to realise he’s trying to protect you rather than that he doesn’t trust you.

You can’t help but laugh when he tuts as you bend over to pick up dandelion leaves for tea.

‘Let me do it,’ he chides.

‘You don’t know anything about herbs,’ you say, still amused.

‘You can teach me,’ Jimin says.

He frowns. ‘Did you hurt your arm?’

‘From plucking dandelion leaves?’

Jimin has to smile, at that.

‘You shouldn’t exert yourself too much,’ he says.

‘Says the man who fell out of the sky and chopped wood for my fire the next day,’ you say, pointedly.

‘You’re not a dragon rider,’ Jimin replies.

His words remind you that you have responsibilities to return to.

‘I should get back home,’ you say.

‘It’s the Yuletide festival next week,’ Jimin says. ‘I was hoping you might stay for that.’

He looks at you hopefully. ‘There’s a banquet at the Hold, a feast, games, drinks.’

You consider his offer.

He nudges you gently.

‘I’ve been told I’m an attentive partner,’ Jimin says, coaxing.

You laugh at the idea that you might be anything but thrilled to have the handsome dragon rider on your arm.

‘I’m sure you’re not short of offers,’ you scoff.

‘I could say the same for you,’ Jimin remarks. ‘You’re very pretty.’

His compliment makes you feel a little hot and flustered.

‘I’ll go with you, you don’t have to flatter me,’ you say dryly.

‘I’m not,’ Jimin says. He beams at you. ‘I’m looking forward to you accompanying me.’

***

You wake up one morning to murmured voices downstairs.

You slip on the slippers and woollen shawl Jimin gave you and head down to investigate.

Jimin’s sitting at his kitchen table, and he’s not alone.

You’ve only met him the one time, but there’s no mistaking the aura of power that surrounds Lord Namjoon.

Both men rise as you enter.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ you say, bowing.

Two things happen at once.

‘You’re not interrupting,’ Jimin says, reaching for your arm just as Lord Namjoon drops to one knee before you.

‘I seek your forgiveness,’ Lord Namjoon says, looking up at you.

‘I vowed you would come to no harm as a result of helping me and my men, and you nearly lost your life as a result.’

You’re too surprised to speak.

‘I owe you a debt for helping us recover one of our own safely,’ he continues.

He looks at Jimin.

‘And for helping my second in command when he was injured.’

You flounder. ‘He landed in my tomatoes,’ you point out, faintly.

Lord Namjoon’s lips twitch, and a dimple appears in his cheek.

‘What I’m saying is, we repay those who help us. If there’s ever anything I can assist you with, you only have to ask.’

You can’t imagine ever asking this powerful man for anything.

‘Thank you,’ you say. ‘Please get up.’

Jimin says, ‘It isn’t often that Namjoon kneels in front of anyone, not even when he’s bested in a spar.’

Namjoon shoots Jimin a testy look. ‘I’d say that she has more than earned it.’

‘Oh agreed,’ Jimin says. He looks at you. ‘May I invite him to stay for breakfast with us?’

‘It’s your cottage,’ you say, flummoxed.

‘But you’re my most important guest,’ Jimin says.

‘He can stay,’ you say.

‘Sure,’ agrees Jimin. ‘Just let me know if you want me to kick him out. He can be quite annoying.’

His comment startles a laugh out of you.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and you get the sense that he’s not unused to being treated with irreverence by Jimin, despite his status.

Jimin pulls out a chair for you.

‘Sit,’ he says. ‘Breakfast will be ready in a minute.’

***

You put on the velvet gown Jimin’s given you, and are pleasantly surprised by your reflection in the looking glass.

The colour makes your skin glow, and the fit is perfect.

Jimin’s already waiting when you come down the stairs, and he looks handsome enough to make your heart flutter.

He’s staring at you like he’s the one transfixed.

He clears his throat, holds up the cloak clutched in his hands.

‘I hope this is warm enough,’ he says, helping you drape it over your shoulders.

The lining of the cloak is sheepskin, warm and soft, but it’s really the feel of his hands on you that make your skin heat.

He clears his throat again, the husky rumble of it behind your ear making a thrill race through your spine.

‘Thank you,’ you say. ‘And for the dress, too.’

‘You look very beautiful in it,’ he says.

Your eyes meet. He seems like he means every word.

He smiles, offers his arm. ‘I’m looking forward to this.’

‘Me too.’

The hold where the Yuletide festival is being held is huge, teeming with people, all dressed in shades of gold and green, wrapped in furs and sheepskin against the cold.

You instinctively step closer to Jimin as a group of merrymakers passes by, startling you.

He presses a hand against the small of your back, steadying you.

‘There’s no one who’ll wish you harm here,’ he says, gentle, offering you his arm.

You feel your ears warm, embarrassed that he noticed.

‘I know,’ you say. ‘Besides, you’re here.’

Jimin reaches over, tugs your cloak tighter around you.

His fingers brush your jaw. ‘I’m here,’ he agrees.

He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.

‘You’re shivering,’ he says. ‘Let me get you a drink.’

You’re saved from explaining that it’s not the cold you’re shivering from, but his touch.

Jimin leads you into a huge hall, where an entire feast has been laid out on banquet tables.

Everyone you pass greets Jimin with affection, he seems to be well-liked. You get more than one curious look, but more often than not it’s accompanied by a warm smile.

Jimin’s still got your hand tucked in his arm, warm against his side.

The sweet spicy mead he gave you warms your insides.

You hear your name called, and realise it’s Taehyung, the dragon rider who complimented your cooking.

‘Hey,’ he says, beaming at you, looking genuinely pleased, so handsome your heart flutters a little. ‘It’s nice to see you out and about.’

His voice drops, his expression sobering. ‘We heard you’d been injured, badly.’

‘I’m better now,’ you say.

‘Come sit with us,’ Taehyung says, waving you over to where a group of dragon riders are sitting.

You recognise some faces, and at the head of the table Lord Namjoon inclines his head at you in greeting.

Jimin serves you himself, filling your plate and mug.

You catch Taehyung exchanging a look with another dragon rider, you think he’s called Minho.

‘Jimin, my plate’s empty too,’ Minho says.

Jimin rolls his eyes good-naturedly. ‘Serve yourself, Minho.’

Taehyung nudges your shoulder.

‘Usually, it’s our women who are tripping over themselves to serve Jimin,’ he says, smiling at you. ‘He’s usually not short of attention.’

Jimin flushes. ‘Don’t listen to them,’ he tells you.

‘I’m not surprised he gets attention,’ you say to Taehyung, unfazed. ‘He’s the kindest man I know.’

Jimin glances at you, what looks like surprise in his expression.

‘Eat,’ he says, finally.

After the banquet Jimin takes you outside again as the quarter of troubadours begin to play a merry tune.

‘Do you dance?’ Jimin asks. Without waiting for an answer, he draws you into a circle of people dancing around a fire.

He’s a good dancer, you realise. There’s something about the line of his body as he moves that makes heat burn through your skin.

He leans closer.

‘You look very beautiful,’ he tells you.

You’re still looking at him as he leans closer still, but the moment his lips touch yours, your eyes close.

He tastes of mead, spiced and warm, and the gentleness of his kiss makes you seek his mouth again as he pulls away.

‘Jimin,’ you say, against his ear.

His gaze meets yours, and the heat in them makes your core tighten.

‘Take me home,’ you say, and he does.

***

Jimin’s profile is beautiful outlined in the light of the half-moon.

He kisses down your neck, the hardness of his chest against yours thrilling and frightening all at once.

You can feel the strength coiled in his taut frame, the way he tempers it with the reverence in his hands and lips as he touches you, kisses your skin.

‘I want to pleasure you,’ he tells you. ‘More than anything.’

He pulls moans and gasps from you as he tugs the tips of your breasts between his fingers and thumbs, fondling your flesh until you’re panting, thighs parting automatically to take him in between.

His hardness presses against your centre, the weight of him making your hips move up automatically to take more.

Jimin gives you more, lowering his mouth to your breasts, slipping a hand down to cup between your legs.

His fingers slide through your heat, thumb over your swollen bud, circling, pressing, and you cry out with pleasure as the coil inside you snaps unexpectedly.

Jimin groans, keeps toying with your clit as you cry his name.

The pleasure doesn’t fade so much as it ebbs, carrying on as Jimin presses himself into you, his rigid length filling you, his cockhead stretching your walls, each thrust making you gasp and bite down on his shoulder.

‘I like that,’ he groans, deeper, voice guttural now as he moves inside you.

You curl your legs around his hips, ankles crossed in the small of his back, one arm hooked over his shoulders.

‘Ride me like I’m riding you,’ he urges, breathless now. ‘Just like that.’

You cry out from the force of his thrusts, the sound of skin on skin, the slickness between your bodies.

He moans, low, and the sound of it pushes you over the edge again.

The wetness that coats him seems to spur him on, he cries out into your skin and a moment later you can feel him flexing inside you as he fills you.

He collapses on you, arms around you, tight, holding you to him.

It’s a few moments before either of you speak.

You trace a finger over the scar along his neck that you sewed together, and it takes you a minute to realise his hand is curled over your own neck, thumb over the tiny scar of the cut he made.

‘If you’ll let me, I’ll spend my life atoning for this,’ he says, touching the scar. There’s regret in his eyes.

‘Don’t waste your life doing that,’ you say, the smile on your face making him smile too. ‘Show me the world instead.’

‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I have a dragon who can help us with that.’

‘Sounds perfect,’ you agree.

#bangtan christmas #bangtan christmas 2023 #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #bts smut

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cuddles-edits · 1 year

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Canon Bisexual Characters

Happy Bisexual Day of Visibility. Here's another icon set of canonically bisexual characters.

Luz Noceda from The Owl House; featured her before, but given the show ended this year, it only seems appropriate to include her one last time.

V (Valerie) from Cyberpunk 2077; she is compatible with both a male and a female doll at Clouds, and has both male and female romance options.

Hunter from The Owl House; revealed by Dana Terrace after the show ended to be bisexual.

Johnny Silverhand from Cyberpunk 2077; during an optional conversation at the Dicky Twister, a male strip club, Johnny reminisces about getting a lap dance from a "latino hunk", and when questioned about it by V, notes that he swings both ways. Additionally, his only objection to V sleeping with River is that she's "making him fuck a cop", and when asked what he would do differently in the Blistering Love side job, he can respond that he would "do Kerry".

Meredith Stout from Cyberpunk 2077; if V sides with her during The Pickup story mission, then they can join her later in the game for a one night stand, regardless of gender.

Kerry Eurodyne from Cyberpunk 2077; although he can only be romanced by Male V, women's clothing can be found strewn around his house and an email exchange confirms he has an ex-wife. Additionally, he's explicitly bisexual in the lore of the original tabletop game.

Astolfo (Rider of Black) from Fate/Apocrypha; doesn't care if his lover's gender is male or female. Last year, I mistakenly identified him as Ambiguously Bisexual, as seen here. I'm including him in the Canon set this year to rectify that mistake.

V (Vincent) from Cyberpunk 2077; same reasons as his female counterpart.

Jean-Baptiste Augustin from Overwatch; Baptiste was revealed to be bisexual in this year's Overwatch 2 pride event.

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themushroomgoesyeet · 8 months

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For the first installment of this series, let's start with something easy!

Arcana characters as Disney princesses/princes

Julian - Flynn Rider/Eugene

These two are so similar istg

Dashing, dramatic, swashbuckling rogues with dry humor and a secret, insecure soft side?

The only difference between them is one is ginger with an eye patch and the other isn't

Honestly Eugene would probably be a good pick for a voice hc tbh

Oh hey they're both orphans with big brother vibes too look at that

Asra - Elsa

White hair? Check. Water-related magic? Check. orphans? Check. Unconditional fashion style that doesn't really match everyone else but still looks drop-dead gorgeous regardless? Check

Both of them also have familial abandonment issues and feel the need to isolate themselves from the people they love instead of confronting the problem smh

I will admit their romantic interests are a bit different, with Asra being bisexual and Elsa either being a lesbian or aro/ace at best

Both of them have also been described to have seductive singing voices 👀

Nadia - Princess Jasmine

We👏stan👏 headstrong 👏 independent 👏 middle eastern- inspired👏queens👏here👏

Ngl Jasmine is one of my favorite Disney princesses & she & Nadia would definitely hit it off

Both feel stuck in their respective lives while also wanting to rule, and try to take action for themselves whenever they can

Also both of them would look absolutely stunning in an outfit swap

Muriel - Hercules

Honey you mean HUNK-ules

I know Hercules isn't technically a Disney prince but he fits Muriel too well

Big and strong but shy and genuine at heart? Hell yeah

Their reactions to fame are a little bit different but they are the same when it comes to falling in love; both are so gentle and genuinely caring, and can't stop gushing about their partner

Also amazing idols for how men are supposed to treat women - a.k.a with respect

Both have a heathy amount of respect for their partners modesty (even when said partner is trying to seduce them on purpose), as well as their partners autonomy to make their own decisions

Not to mention they both have estranged families that they didn't know about, and a supportive animal companion

Portia - Rapunzel

I know some of you might be thinking "why not Merida? They look so alike with their frizzy mop of ginger hair!" Well, dear chat, let me explain

While they may look similar, Portia and Merida do not act similar. Merida is rebellious, headstrong, and airheaded, fighting her loved ones on everything and doing what she wants regardless of the consequences until said consequences come back to bite her in the butt. Portia on the other hand, while also headstrong, is spunky, kind, and takes others feelings and opinions into account instead of doing the first daring thing that comes into her head

Which brings me to Rapunzel. Admittedly, Rapunzel is a lot more sheltered and inexperienced about the world than Portia was but they are still kindred spirits. Curious, spunky, headstrong, kind, compassionate, and unafraid to fight for themselves.

They're ready to take on the world even if they don't know enough about it

Both also have evil and manipulative family members (ik Mother Gothel isn't Rapunzel's family; she was still the one who raised Rapunzel & Rapunzel considered her family long enough for it to count in this situation)

Both also meet love interests who guide them through the part of the world that's unknown to them, be it magic for Portia or the world as a whole for Rapunzel

Lucio - Merida

remember all those traits I listed for Merida? Yeah Lucio fits those

Merida and Lucio may be hella good warriors, but boy are they stupid sometimes

Both also have mommy issues™

Both are also wildly inexperienced with magic and should really be more cautious about it

Both just go "oopsies" and expect everything to be fine because of their status when it's never fine

Can you tell yet that these two bother me lol

Both were brought up in a Scottish-sounding culture and you can't change my mind

#the arcana #the arcana game #arcana #count lucio #muriel of the kokhuri #nadia satrinava #portia devorak #julian devorak #asra alnazar #the arcana as _

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exitrowiron · 2 months

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Riding two abreast on a road with traffic is the bicycling equivalent of reclining your seat in coach on an airplane. It isn't (usually) illegal, but it is inconsiderate. In the case of biking however, you aren't just irritating another passenger, you're irritating the driver of 2-4,000 lb hunk of 50 mph metal.

During my cross country ride several bikers insisted on riding two abreast or solo in the middle of the lane. A few riders had the Garmin rear radar and would ride two abreast until the car got close and then move to the right. I refused to ride with them because in each case the driver became irritated or anxious or both. In my experience irritated, anxious people lose self awareness and make poor decisions - a bad combo when driving the giant pick up trucks which are common where I live. If you haven't noticed this kind of behavior, I encourage you to spend a few hours at an airport.

The roads near me are all chip-sealed which creates dangerous conditions on the narrow shoulders. The best riding surface is where the cars' right wheel travels the lane. I split the difference by riding the paint.

(Ignore the timestamp, this is Saturday's ride.)

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eliounora · 1 year

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I'm not a big disney fan outside of childhood nostalgia but every time I see one of those prince rankings I'm like ok but I could rank them better. and I happened to be bored so I did

some mentions I have to make so people don't wonder:

flynn rider: basic choice. scientifically engineered to be a hot man. no bite or edge to him. if you look at concept art he was supposed to be a big guy but they changed him to this market researched douche with a soul patch. absolute travesty

aladdin: he’s cute and good-hearted, lies to get his way but learns to be true to himself. lessons we all learn in life. next

jim: has the best song. i too want the moment to be real

phoebus: mmm. ehh

prince charming: literally what it says on the tin. storybook prince. not a man, a plot device

cinderella's prince: has a thing for feet. nice. funny in the sequels but a cardboard box is more interesting than his design

and now the top 10:

10. hercules: hunky demigod himbo. true hero is tested by the strength of his heart. the lesson all gym bros need to learn.

9. quasimodo: has heart and character, and sang “out there” like an angel.

8. prince eric: spends all his days with his dog and playing the recorder. who let him out of containment. too nervous to kiss a girl he likes even though she is sending obvious signals. he wants to get the know her better. king

7. tarzan: loin-clothed hunk with the facial structure of a statue. roams the jungle to the tunes of phil collins. loves his mom without being weird about it. prime man

6. the beast: eye and soul candy for the monsterfuckers. hot take but he wasn’t that bad as a human. he was hot. especially when you consider that his backstory included him being so snobby and vain that he was turned into the beast. like isn't that the consequences of your actions pretty boy. love to see it

5. milo: linguist. has round glasses and that 90s curtain haircut. all features that can indicate sleeziness but he is a good guy, meaning sometimes a man with round glasses and 90s curtain haircut can be trusted. a lanky charming nerd and therefore my exact type unfortunately

4. kenai: excellent protagonist. so deep in the throes of toxic masculinity he gets turned into a bear. isn't that the consequences of your actions pretty boy

3. shang li: bisexual king. nothing more to add.

2. prince naveen: now I may come from a protestant culture but a lazy jackass learning the value of hard work and love is what it’s all about. a dish. gets turned into a frog, isn't that the consequences of your actions pretty bo-

1. robin hood: “he's a fox hahah furry" FUCK YOU. HE IS THE FINEST MAN OUT THERE. HE HANGS OUT WITH HIS BEST FRIEND IN THE WOODS. HE HAS BEEN TRUE TO HIS SWEETHEART SINCE CHILDHOOD. he thinks he’s not good enough for her, but in a chivalrous way instead of pathetic. steals from the rich and gives to the poor. great with kids. they don’t make men like this anymore, and with that I mean men of integrity. “MARIAN MY DARLING I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF.” (CRIES)(THROUGH TEARS) LOVE IT SEEMS LIKE ONLY YESTERDAY YOU WERE JUST A CHILD AT PLAY

#nor's rambles #does not include commentary on why disney turns all their poc protagonists into animals. saving that for some other time #i love to see a man learn a lesson

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pandoraroid · 6 months

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listening to vincent's playlist and it is an,,, experience,,,

take this all with a grain of salt pls dont come @ me

to quote a comment from this video: the fact that we know what's coming makes this both terrifying and heartbreaking. couldnt have said it better than myself 😔😔😔😔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

i love him so much,,, he tries to distract the listener,,, he tries to comfort them so bad soshksjsks HE'S SO SWEET AND EVERYTHING

"do you wanna hold my hand?" HAND IN MARRIAGE SIR? SURE

he is an adrenaline junkie i need a man like him in my life he's just like me fr

"one last ride, right?" NO 👹 S T O P DONT BREAK MY HEART LIKE THIS

though how is he the only rider they never found??? what how did he get dislodged from his seat or something??? i must be dumb i dont get this all of a sudden 🧍‍♀️

love the intro 😚 the messages on the cassette tapes are so heartwarming and reassuring djgdjdhd

okay that "boo" actually scared the shit out of me is it safe to assume that this is the same amusement park he was in in the previous video?

if that's the case, does he just,,, chill in here at random??? god that is so,,,

"demons(?) are very much real" BRO ARE WE SUPPOSE TO KNOW THAT?

"oh i know i'm close. you're welcome" WHEWWWWWW JESUS FUCK LORD GIVE ME STRENGTH

"little one" okay fuck i'm melting YOUR VOICE SIR got me kicking my feet and blushing fr

lovely has an attitude 😁😁 stay strong soldier

he calls them beautiful AND DARLING? even if it was a bit of a throwaway JESUS 🫠

"your safety is paramount" "be safe, little one. good night." why does this make him so much hotter jesus what is wrong with me HE EVEN LEADS THEM BACK TO THEIR CAR (bareminimumenjoyer?!?! me?!?!? look away)

"you're not looking for another paranormal hunk are you? that would break my heart :(" SIR

no seriously why is bro here

"foreplay takes two y'know" SIR

is he getting them to believe in the supernatural what what is his goal,,,

"should i strip down for easier access, doctor?" WRAP IT UP

his voice omfg immelting just imagining the scene,,, onlovely'sbedbeingclosewithhimohmyfuckinggod

he's so goofy for just tapping on his fangs like that lmao

DID HE JUST PIN THEM DOWN TO THE BED WH A T

SIR WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT DID HE SERIOUSLY NEARLY JUST???? WHA T

"no one has had this effect on me" NO SHIT????

"you're safe with me. i won't lose control." thank you for that but if the next video's title is any clue, that will not age well ( i mean you on the other hand don't get to age at all so 🤷‍♀️ IM KIDDING)

"i'm not going to mess this up." you won't babes (at least i think you wont) i'd give anything to give him a hug or something

WHO THE FUCK IS THIS BITCH THIS ISNT MY MAN

oh the warnings 😃 mentally preparing myself now

lovely what the fuck are we doing here

"beautiful little bloodbag" oh hey a pale sleazy talking punchbag

"oh relax i'm just touching you" and if i may touch my fist to your face in a fast and strong way, you're gonna relax then bitch

WAIT DID HE TRANCE US???

i am well aware a human is no match for a vampire but that will not stop my audacity to try which dare i say levels up to his for touching me and talking shit about vincent

"all i had to do was wait for your human brain to make a decision this stupid." it seems that your expired vampiric brain has also made the stupid decision to breathe in my direction

to be fair on vincent, we have met each other exactly two times and neither of us (especially him) could have known how our previous meeting would end. i don't need to be near you for five minutes to know you're a little bitch

DID YOUR CONCEPT OF PERSONAL SPACE DIE WITH YOU THE FIRST TIME GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU LITTLE BITCH

MY MAN IS HEREEEEE he's not gonna be mad lovely came here is he

HE PUNCHED HIM HAHAHAHA he did it for me fr

HIS VOICE GOD am so weak for him

MAKING OUT WITH US ALREADY??? GOOD GOD

lovely checking on him too ☹️☹️☹️ my goober fr

"i dont think you're gonna like what you found" oh dang you're like me for real

MY MAN

the way he says "little one" will never not get to me omg AND THEN HE SAID BABY IN THAT VOICE??? GOD

vamp eyes go black when theyre hungry(?) got it noted

so lovely got tranced and vincent is needs to feed on them right after???? did i get that right??? GOOD GOD GIVE EM A BREAK???

"i cant drink from your neck... no not yet not like this..." PROPS TO HIM FOR HAVING PROPRIETY LOVE MY MAN FR

"this will mark you as mine" GIVE IT HERE but at the same time ALREADY????

oh good lord he's feeding from our wrists now okay

hang in there lovely patpat u're gonna be okay (i hope they will be VINCENT)

aw those little kisses though

noooooo vincent 😭???

neways,,,

jfc these two put me on a ride (haha get it)

vincent is slowly becoming my new crush 🤭 but jfc lovely better get good u got this babes

will stop here for now bc i need a break 🧍‍♀️ when will i continue who knows

#redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted lovely #redacted vincent #exposing myself in this one fr #dont judge me looks away

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xxmiracle · 6 months

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Here's the preview of "Dragon Heart" that I said I would post. This is the only part of the Voltron crew I have written so far. I hope I have every one written correctly as how they are.

~~~

“How is a person the Heart of Voltron?!” Pidge, the shortest and youngest in the room, asked the Princess of Altea, Allura.

Allura looked at them and she held a positive expression compared to earlier expressing her sorrow for the family and civilization she just found out is dead. But of course she couldn’t let herself mourn just yet, there are things in the way currently that won’t allow her to do that. Assigning everyone's roles in the team they must form to perform their duties to protect but she was missing one person. Voltron needs five paladins and a Dracaneon of a specific lineage, specifically born with the ability to fulfill the duty for Voltron.

“Our last Dragon Heart is from Planet Dracaena a species that are known for their magic and dragons-” Before she could finish she was interrupted by the big one named Hunk choking on some food that her advisor just advised her to eat after their ten thousand deca- phoebe sleep. Allura looked at him worryingly as the same brunette that attempted to flirt with her patted his friend in the back. “Is he okay?” She asked worriedly to Shiro who only shared the same worried look.

“Sorry! But Dragon?!” Hunk blurted out his coughing fit had passed. “Yeah, aren’t dragons a fake animal or something?” Lance’s question followed up.

“Mythical creature.” Pidge corrected which earned a “Same Thing!” from Lance. Perhaps it was but to Pidge they had the better word for it.

Allura understood the creature was foreign to humans but she didn’t know they would be known as fairy tales in their home planet. As far as she’s aware the only dragons in the universe are from Dracaena. “Dracaena is where Dragons are born and raised alongside their riders. It’s extremely common for most Dracaenas to be bonded with a dragon or dragon’s.” Coran her advisor decided to explain for her.

“What about a dragon with no rider?” Keith suddenly asked silent and mostly away from everyone else since they’ve arrived here. Coran pointed his chin out, smoothing his mustache between his index finger and thumb. “Well, that would be considered a dragon free to bond or a wild. Does that answer your question?” Keith just nodded in understanding.

Allura clapped her hands together activating her computer. “We now need to find the new Dragon Heart. Thanks to the help of the previous heart, we'll easily find her. The hard part is convincing her here.” She explained the show of the universe map right in front of them moving it till it stopped on Dracaena. “It’s obvious with Zarkon’s tyranny things have changed a lot, not for the better. Dracaena must be far from the old Dracaena we knew.”

Then a beautiful woman popped up on the screen gaining everyone's attention to who the new Dragon Heart will be. And like Allura said it was easy. “This is the current Empress Khuzaimah of Dracaena '' The princess announced her name.

Keith’s eyes widened at the picture that appeared before them. She looked recognizable to his older sister, the same pale complexion, the same white and shiny locks of hair that was held in a hairstyle that made her look elegant like a real royal that she was supposed to look like. But, it didn’t ‘look’ like his sister. Though everything else was different, what seemed to help him identify her was her expression.

“She's pretty.” Lance whistled, Keith was quick to glare and give him a not-so-soft kick to the leg. “What, Dropout!” Lance glared back at him. They both stopped seeing the warning glare from Shiro.

Keith only let out a scoff and looked back at the hologram picture of the woman. “Keith, you’ll go to Dracaena to bring the Empress here.” Allura said. Lance looked at him skeptical as if doubting he could convince one person, how would he convince an Empress of a nation of dragons. “You? Convince that hottie?” Keith looked at him annoyed. “I can convince her!” Allura had tasked Lance and Hunk to get the Yellow lion and for Shiro and Pidge to get the green lion. Since the red lion is nowhere to be found he’s the only one free to do this. But as much as Lance annoyed him he had a right to be skeptical about him. He’s not good with people, always keeping his walls up to keep them out.

“Uh, Princess, how do I get there? She’s an Empress, so it must be hard to get to her.” Keith asked the princess, he watched as her eyebrows furrowed a bit. “Unlike the two planets, the green and yellow lions residing in Dracaena were the most dangerous out of them. And the princess wasn’t sure how they would treat Keith once he arrived there and she wasn't sure after ten thousand years if they would treat him with aggression or turn him away. Allura was gambling one of her paladins-to-be for the Dragon Heart.

Princess Allura nodded at Coran. “Please show them the Capital.” He nodded a hologram of the Giant palace. “It’s huge!” Hunk commented. Pidge glasses shined as she pushed it up the bridge of her nose. “It’s bigger than the one we are in now.” They commented in Amazement. Coran made a face at them, he looked proud earlier when they were amazed by the castle but perhaps they found something more amazing. He looked deflated now. “The Dracaena Empire is much older than Altea. This is the last dated picture of the capital where the Emperor and Empress reside, it is heavily guarded with guards for both combat and magic users including their Dragon Riders. I am unsure if it’s guarded with Galran too.”

Shiro looked at Keith worryingly, if it is true then it would be unsafe for him to go. Especially if there’s Galra, if he is caught who knows what they’ll do. “Princess, if it is dangerous send me to go-” Shiro volunteered but Keith quickly declined. “You just got out of their hands, you can’t risk going back just for me!” He objected. Even for that reason Shiro wasn't stressed enough about letting his brother-figure out to face that.

And Keith understood the fears his brother may be facing now, it’s been obvious their whole trip here. “I’ll be fine.”

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angelusmortis77 · 6 months

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Finished drawing hunk from residents evil 2 remake, I tried my best to work on prospective ( inspired by Kamen rider)

#resident evil #hunk resident evil

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noahideahwrites · 1 year

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About the alpha — Multifandom

Notes: This is in no way, shape, or form how you have to imagine their meetings or who they are in my writings, I always try to keep these vague, but in case you want to know how I think their story and meeting with the omegas would go.

I will do Inuyasha's characters separately, cause I think of so many ways they could meet each other, and that's to all of the characters.

Warnings: might have grammar errors, heavy spoilers on HTTYD, and mild on Voltron (principally Shiro's and Lotor's)

Now I must explain this first, when I make a Character x Reader I don't normally include the other characters having an Alpha(Reader), so if in certain scenarios where they would be the "same person" just think of two different universes.

I'm also aware that some of these might change significantly or completely the plotline of their anime/series.

» Voltron:

For Keith and Lance, I imagine the alpha being an Altean who was with Coran and Allura, more specifically Allura's older brother (by a maximum of 5 years).

For Hunk the alpha is another race of aliens, I cannot choose between Galra and Olkari, so maybe a hybrid of both. I just know I would love for his alpha to be a Blade of Marmora member.

For Shiro is a lot more simple, they would be a human, either part of the Atlas crew or a civilian he met after the war. If he met them before the Cerberus mission (like Adam), I do think Alpha would also go to the mission.

Now for Lotor is more complicated, I would love for him to have a childhood friend with who he fell in love in the future, but for that to happen they would have to be Galra and I don't know if he would fall in love with a Galra considering what he said about them on his close to last moments. So he might fall in love before his hatred started, that's the only way this could ever work.

» Stardew Valley:

Obviously, for both Sam and Sebastian, the alpha would be the new farmer, but I think the way they would meet is different.

While Sam has seen the farmer around town and pretty early on have talked to them and become friends, that's a little more difficult for Sebastian, who spends most of his days inside his room.

So the farmer will have heard of him by Sam and Robin, maybe even Abigail and Maru, but has never seen him. The first time they see each other is on a rainy day when Sebastian decides to go to the beach.

» How To Train Your Dragon:

Hiccup and Snotlout would only date someone who's from Berk, preferably a fellow Dragon Rider. For Dagur we have two ways, either alpha was a dragon hunter and redeem themselves with Dagur, or they're a Defender of the Wing member who worked close to the Dragon Riders on some missions (I love Dagur and Mala as a couple, even though it was kind of rushed).

For Viggo, he would only date a Dragon Hunter, but they would've only become one because of him, they wouldn't feel pleasure in killing or slaving dragons. When he went to hide after falling into the volcano, he would have made his alpha hide with him, and on his redeem, they both would die.

» Boku no Hero:

For all three of them (Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima), their alpha is in the hero support class and they're the ones responsible for their omega's hero suit. Or they're at a maximum a civilian, I cannot see them dating another hero, I don't know why.

» Nanbaka:

These are quite simple also, for Musashi and Liang alpha would have to be an inmate, but not for a serious crime like murder, maybe they're in for robbery (for survival) or for escaping arrest/prison.

For Hajime, they would either be a civilian who visits him from time to time, or another guard as long as their relationship doesn't affect their work.

Enki depends on the time, if they met when he was a guard then they would have to be a guard, but if they met when he became an inmate, then they would also have to be an inmate.

#x reader #x male reader #x gn reader #hcideah #alpha!reader #nanbaka #httyd #voltron #bnha #stardew valley

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eemoo1o-tfrmoo · 1 year

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If a Speed Stinger could speed speedily, softly swooping swiftly, how speedy is he really?

Never has the word “speed” looked so wrong, now.

The Next Big Sting (1x12) is a great episode for Snotlout, actually. Personally, I love it for Speedy and the taming of a species otherwise thought to be untrainable (cough, still waiting for the Changewing, cough cough), but Snotlout is so great here! And with Ruffnut, too? Oh, ho, we were spoiled.

Plus, it’s funny how this episode includes Snotlout trying to get rid of a dragon, but then is preceded by an episode where he’s trying to keep his dragon. Kind of ironic, actually.

Reasons why this episode is great include:

The important stuff (like Meatlug cuteness and Ruffnut & Snotlout centralism):

The first ones shown to give Hiccup “a look” when he presents the Dragon Fly One are Ruffnut and Snotlout. This is obviously foreshadowing.

Hiccup talking about how The Dragon Fly One will be handy if they and their dragons ever get separated. Sorry, Hiccup but I think this mostly only ever affects you. And Ruffnut and Snotlout that one time.

Actually, I don’t think it’s ever actually happened to Fishlegs and Meatlug other than when Scardian’s pack carried Fishlegs off in season two. Look out, Hiccup, looks like you could stand to learn a thing or two.

Additionally, Hiccup says it’s going to be so handy, and yet he’s built the heaviest looking thing imaginable. I know it’s a prototype but like, come on!

Snotlout asks if he could have Toothless after it all doesn’t work. Yeah, like you wouldn’t be in too much shock after the fact, Snotlout. That’s so cousin of you.

Hiccup: “I’ll be floating on a bed of air!” — Snotlout: “Or crashing on a bed of rock.” This man.

“I cannot believe that that hunk of junk actually worked.” It’s okay, Snotlout, neither can Isaac Newton.

Snotlout’s whole character this episode is remembering Frozen from Defenders of Berk. And rightfully so. But the other riders don’t acknowledge it at all until it happens to them (aka Ruffnut).

“Is he seriously going back?!” Snotlout is so real for that. — “Snotlout, meet Hiccup. Of course he’s going back.” Maybe someone should tell Astrid that when she’s grouching over the Dragon Fly One like she did earlier and inevitably will later.

The only one that doesn’t help wrangle the Stinger is Snotlout. And, honestly, who can blame him.

Part of Forbidden Friendship (a harmony with some sopranos) plays when Hiccup tames Speedy. I love the symbolism behind this sound effect because of what a righteous, monumental moment it’s supposed to be.

Ruffnut is fine around the Stinger until she gets stung. And then it’s all downhill from there. I love the natural progression (albeit a quick one) of her character through this episode. At least she and Snotlout can relate to one another now.

Speedy immediately goes for Snotlout because of how on edge he is. He also is able to dodge, punching the air, “Not even on your best day, pal.” He’s so extra here I love it. (Makes you think what his dad said to him after he got stung the first time.)

And of course Ruffnut immediately gets stung again but makes sure to cross her legs.

Tuffnut starts boxing the air, intensely mimicking Snotlout ready to I assume defend Ruffnut from anymore stings before he starts getting kicked. How cute-turned-cruel this is.

Barf gets stung and immediately Ruff calls out to him before crawling her way as quick as she can to I assume comfort him despite the difficulty it takes her. This is so sweet. I wish we had more episodes surrounding Barf & Belch and the twins, and not just the twins or whatever The Zippleback Experience was. (Also symbolism how it was Barf to get stung and not Belch. Barf and Ruffnut are great together <3)

Snotlout gets to basically say “I told you so” but no one listens except for Ruffnut (I assume she also wants to avenge her dragon, which is sweet). I wonder if this went in his book.

Snotlout and Ruffnut’s whole interaction as the sun’s rising is pure serotonin. They are BFFs. (Also both of their episodes together and Snotlout and Tuffnut’s in Maces and Talons Pt. 1 include Ruffnut riding Hookfang. And of course Tuffnut gets a spin in Snotlout’s Angels. Makes you wonder how much Hookfang actually tolerates and/or likes the twins.)

“There are other things I want to say, but none of them are very ladylike!” Between this and the leg crossing you can really tell that Ruffnut was experimenting with gender this episode.

Snotlout immediately grabs Ruffnut after she gets stung and starts falling off and as such takes his attention away from the air-sick and anxious Speedy. He cares so much!

Hookfang then gets stung and they crash land. The fact that he and Snotlout have both been stung is very poetic, much like Ruff and Barf! (Maybe I’m too obsessed with the “Dragon is a reflection of the rider’s soul” analogy.)

Speedy is calm once back on the ground and licks Snotlout as thanks for catching him! See, guys? He was only scared when up in the air, the poor thing.

Hookfang lights on fire to protect Snotlout from the no-longer-hostile Speedy. See? Now he’s cautious! Snotlout and Hookfang are paralleling one another.

“This is a new low even for you, Snotlout!” — “I was trying to save us!” :(

A sign that Speedy doesn’t belong in the pack (and is a teenager, obviously) is that he talks back to Toothless telling him off, whereas the others wouldn’t have done so! I like little bits like this. (And Toothless had Stormfly as back up. Like a mom and dad telling their kid off.)

Ruffnut and Hookfang have a semi-paralysed affiliation together now, both going around in a circle. And I love how they’re going it side by side, I wonder if they did it to support the other. At least Meatlug is here to defend them!

Ruffnut saying to Meatlug, “Hey, girl, thanks,” and fist-bumping her tail is really cute. Hookfang also gives an additional sound.

Speedy also realises that his old pack is hurting his new pack! Nurse/Big Sister/Favourite Aunt Meatlug getting hurt was the final straw for him.

Snotlout starts swinging with a stick and says he’s not leaving anyone behind (start of his heroism/selfless arc) but it’s obvious he’s still scared himself. Hiccup’s sass was not necessary! The nerve.

Snotlout using Speedy as his own Stinger feels like a thousand IQ move and I love him for it.

“Needle Butts” feels like the millennial term for Speed Stingers and we have Snotlout to thank for it. Alternative terms were probably “Deadly Dodos” and “Sneaky Sewing Machines”.

“Snotlout, Snotlout, oi oi oi!”

Snotlout accepting Speedy after he turns on his own to protect him.

“I’m never going to get you, dragon” Snotlout: confirmer of species’ and genuses everywhere! Also, why isn’t this dragon a dinosaur, again?

“But he hates me!” Snotlout’s delivery of this is great.

Kind of criminal that Speedy couldn’t have become Part Of The Gang™. It’s okay, Speedy, you’ll always be in our hearts. (Doesn’t this kind of make Speedy Snotlout’s Scauldy? I guess?) (Shame, too. I alway imagined he would have gotten along great with Smidvarg.)

I realised when Tuffnut lights a streak of gas on fire to ward off some Stingers and then he compliments a still-paralysed Barf that Barf looks kind of drunk. Now that you’ve noticed that, too, I order you all to laugh.

Oh, and then goes Belch.

And I think Tuffnut. See what I said about one not being able to go down without the other soon following? This. Is. Symbolic. (Or so I religiously believe.)

Hookfang is still seen as formidable by the Titan Wing Speed Stinger even with half his body still paralysed. I wonder if this could temporarily be seen as disabled rep — I wish we could have seen his development from being completely defenceless (Meatlug protecting him and Ruffnut) to him doing this.

It was probably to defend Snotlout.

And that’s great.

The Meatlug Cuteness Counter:

Fishlegs reminding Hiccup that their dragons can fly and Meatlug being cute about it. (Meatlug Cuteness Counter: 1.) (She’s the cutest.)

I love how Fishlegs tries hiding his arm’s paralysis by leaning on Meatlug only to get sabotaged when she goes to play with Speedy. (Meatlug Cuteness Counter: +1 point. 2.)

Nurse Meatlug encouraging Speedy through his physiotherapy is adorable. (Meatlug Cuteness Counter: +5 points. 7.)

When Snotlout is about to go off, we can see Meatlug and Fishlegs sleeping next to one another. (Meatlug Cuteness Counter: +4 points. 11.)

“Nurse Meatlug, if you would do the honours, please” and she does! She does do the honours! Oh, she’s such a good girl. (Meatlug Cuteness Counter: +10 points. 21.)

“Meatlug, quick! Stop him! Speed Stingers can’t swim!” And then she goes so determinedly. So cute. (Meatlug Cuteness Counter: +100 points! 121.)

Meatlug’s shocked face when she sees Speedy being able to skim the water. (Meatlug Cuteness Counter: +20 points. 141.)

Meatlug defends the defenceless (Ruffnut and Hookfang), only to immediately get stung. She tried! (Meatlug Cuteness Counter: +59 points. 200. Additionally, Meatlug Heroism Counter: 10 added points.)

It also takes us back to that scene in Frozen where she defended Fishlegs and so he couldn’t leave her. (Nostalgia Counter: 1. Meatlug Cuteness Counter: +30 points. 230. Additionally, Meatlug Heroism Counter: +15 added points. 25.)

Fishlegs stands by Meatlug after she gets frozen. (Fishlug/Meatlug Cuteness Counter: 10.)

Bonus (mostly non-Snotlout and Meatlug related things):

First thing Tuffnut thinks about is food and/or destruction in the morning.

Chicken was also woken up early to see all this. She is the best dragon rider.

“The chicken is not amused.” (She then leaves dramatically.)

Surely it would be more efficient in situations like this to employ either Stormfly or Hookfang to go after Hiccup instead of the one dragon that can’t fucking fly. Surely allowing the latter is just counter-intuitive.

Astrid goes “Ugh, boys” and Tuffnut is shown right next to her with this simple frown on his face as his eyes flick back to Hiccup! I don’t know why that’s so funny but it is. Shame how quick it was shown though.

“Okay, everyone. Dragon Fly One: maiden flight.” Foreshadowing. I think.

“You’re not actually thinking of trying to train it, are you?” Oh, Astrid. This is extremely ironic for when you coerce Hiccup into letting you bring Garff along on a rescue mission.

In conclusion: Meatlug is cute, Snotlout is great, Barfruff supremacy, Hiccup sabotaged having a pet Speed Stinger on the Edge, and Chicken is the supreme leader.

#httyd #race to the edge #snotlout jorgenson #his tag is sure to bring me fame. he’s the httyd version of grelle sutcliff #speed stinger #speedy #ruffnut thorston #tuffnut thorston #chicken #hiccup haddock #toothless #meatlug #fishlegs ingerman #hookfang #astrid hofferson #episode propaganda #the next big sting #original post #long post

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