#i dont really have any other thoughts in this au i just wanted to mold them into aiballs like im playing with clay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years

Text

Fury of Their Scales

m.yoongi / reader

genre: dragon!au, wyvern!yoongi, human/herbalist!reader,

warning(s)!!: isolation/alienation, mentions of war, injuries/blood/violence, dragon boy yoongles is stuck in a trap bc he’s dumb, y/n is so sO pure, protective dragon yoonyoon, villagers physically bully y/n a lot :(, unfair situations, y/n takes so much shit like a champ she deserves an award, dragon boy is a dragon for the first half of this (sorry, not sorry), don’t be scared there's actual humor and wholesome stuff too :D, slow burn (kinda)?

w.count: 17.7k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: T]

synopsis: a world of dragons, demons, devils, gods and ghouls- humans were of small number. you’ve lived on the outskirts of your human village in the woods ever since you could remember. living alone in a small cabin with nothing but woodland trees, ponds, lakes and animals was like a small paradise- with the occasional bump in the road. as someone who’s studied and experimented with nature to make all sorts of concoctions- your home was ideal. it didn’t matter that your village didn’t like it or that they rejected your life of medicine. what did matter, however, was the dragon stuck in a trap not too far from your home that you just discovered.

a/n: i literally haven’t sat down to write fanfiction in over a month bc my brain was fried and i got sucked balls deep into a fandom of an anime i dont even watch (yet). It took me three hours to edit this bc i pass tf out, pls be easy on me LOL

A shrill whine echoed through the woodland area. Bouncing off trees, echoing in caves, spooking off wildlife of rodents and critters that crept along the ground with far too many spindly legs. Rustling in the wind, entangling with the leaves that blew and then erupting when a campfire crackled, settling in it’s burning pit of wood and stone.

-x-x-x-

You shot awake in bed, the morning light peeking in through your bedroom window that was covered in a beginning to tear curtain. You breathed out a heavy sigh as you flopped back down onto your mattress that squeaked at your movement. You really should be getting a new bed sometime soon. This one was old and did nothing for your pressure points or back while you slept. What was the point of a good night rest when you wake up feeling like you just wrestled a bear and lost?

You looked at the small streaks of light that soaked into your wooden home as you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again before getting out of bed. You threw your covers off, your nightdress coming down to your knees as you started to stretch. Your arms reached above your head as you stifled a yawn.

You could hear the birds outside and from the way the sun angled into the room through the drapes, you assumed it was still fairly early. You hated that you could never seem to sleep until later into the morning, but you couldn’t help the fact that when you're up, you're up for the day unless you’re ill.

Walking to your window, you drew open the curtains and immediately shut your eyes. Peeling them open slowly in a squint, the morning light was brilliant until you finally adjusted to the sudden light difference. Letting the morning sun warm your room with sunspots, you started to change.

Tossing away your nightdress, you changed into your everyday- not at all flattering- attire.

A dress of a faded moss green skirt and a stretched, overly used leather corset around your waist that tucked around the white top half of your dress. Tying your hair back you slipped on some socks.

Leaving your room, you immediately dashed to your fire place where a kettle of day old water hung from the single hook inside the top of the pit. Striking a match, you ignited the wood that had not yet been completely burnt and noted to refill the kettle with fresh water later on- too lazy to do it right off the bat.

You walked around your small, cabin home jumping place to place with small tasks or chores that took a mere few seconds to complete to start your day off waiting for your kettle to whistle with hot water. When it finally did, you carefully took your kettle with a cloth wrapped around your hand and set it on your countertop. Grabbing a clay mug from your cupboard (that you made on your own to your pride), you dropped in a few leaves from a box of herbs you had and poured the steaming hot water over them.

“Alright,” you assured yourself as you left your kettle to cool off again. After a handful of minutes, you took your mug and sat yourself at your small table that was made for two- but only occupied by yourself. You lifted open your window and let out a breathy sigh at the fresh air. You placed a small plate of grain and food on the open window seal and soon enough, birds were flocking to it to grab something.

“Good morning you guys,” you chuckled as you basked in the small moment of peace before the day ahead. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there in your spot of sunlight and birds with the occasional squirrel, but after the sun had shifted just enough to get you to notice, you deemed it long enough.

Getting up, you set your mug into your sink and took the plate that was previously filled on the widow as you walked to your door. Grabbing a white cloak to tie around your shoulders, a small gathering basket and placing a pair of worn down, brown boots on, you were leaving your home. Grabbing the key that hung on a nail beside the door, you locked your cabin door behind you and placed the key around your neck.

Taking a list from beneath the small cloth in your basket, you started reading aloud to none other than yourself. You kept yourself company, that’s the only way you stayed somewhat entertained in your lonesome cabin.

You lived on the outskirts of your village, having been born in this cabin and growing up in it even when your parents left you there as a child. You found out quickly how to grow and live independently and by now it was just second nature. Sure, you had your rough days of work and weather, but it was manageable. At least you didn’t have neighbors that stressed you out- only the occasional bird, bat or squirrel that got stuck in your chimney that you had to chase out.

“I need to find some goldenrod for sure,” you muttered. “I’ll need to make sure not to grab yarrow in its place; although, I guess it wouldn’t be all that bad if I did.” Your knowledge and interest in medicine was also another reason why you never branched further into the village as a person. All they did was ridicule you for not following the status quo. “I need honey too, but I’d have to go to the village for that unless some merchant runs into me while I’m out.” You sighed, “I doubt it. I’m never that lucky.”

You started your way off, passing by the small well in your front yard and bypassing the small station of firewood you had yet to cut and move. A pile of logs sat sliced into thirds under a tarp beside your front door. The hardest part of your life was building the muscle and stamina to cut your own firewood, not to mention swinging and actually hitting the wood with your axe instead of magnificently missing it and getting the blade stuck in the stump you used to chop on.

As you walked away from your cabin, the trees becoming thicker as you followed the dirt trail further into the woods, you started looking around. Scanning for any signs of any herb that you may want to snag along the search for the days main goal: goldenrod. You started off the path and began walking between trees and away from small holes from rabbits and moles so you don’t jeopardize your ankles and fall.

You were searching for a while as you were knelt into the grass, scanning leaves and flower petals to identify what was what when you thought you heard something. From somewhere beyond the trees, past the wall of foliage, you though you heard a sort of... whining? Or maybe howl?

A sense of deja-vu washed over you. Had you heard this whining somewhere before? Was it a wolf cub or maybe a bear? No, it sounded too rough to be either of those. A cry echoed after a moment of silence and then the whines from before returned shortly after.

A part of you wanted to forget about it and leave the area immediately. Something about the way it seemed to bend and mold the air around you with it’s unfamiliar cry made your skin crawl. However, the bigger part of your heart that knew that the cries you were hearing were cries for help made you think otherwise.

Rising to your feet, you tucked your basket to your side closer in a pitiful sense of self-comfort as you made your way towards the cries. The trees became less dense and soon you were approaching a small opening. You could hear the sounds of metal clanking together along with the loud cries and whines. Perhaps an animal had gotten snagged in a trap? If that were the case, you wondered if you should free it or not.

Although you felt bad for the animals in the moment, you knew that they were someone else's food source or something important to help somehow; whether it be a pelt for warmth or their claws for weaponry. You had no right to free an animal that wasn’t your prey- so you decided that if it was an animal you’d leave no matter how much your heart ached.

When you could see the clearing ahead, you slowed your footsteps and slowly crept up behind a tree to peer around it. As you did so, your breath caught in your throat as you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from choking and making a sound. You spun around, nearly dropping your basket from your arm as you hid behind the tree you had peered around and pressed your back firmly to it’s trunk.

Your breath shuttered, shook, halted and repeated. You couldn’t remember how to breathe properly as you tried to be as quiet as possible. Around that tree trunk and indeed caught in a metal trap was no animal.

It was a dragon.

You racked your brain trying to be reasonable. Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind? A hallucination? Maybe the leaves you boiled earlier that morning were hallucinogenic and you were simply too careless about what you were brewing in your morning daze?

You peered one more time around the tree trunk to verify and your entire body ceased up again at the same dragon from the first time you saw it. You didn’t hide immediately this time. You stayed hidden, tucked away but examined the situation the best you could; even if every orifice of your body was telling you to run.

You weren’t too well versed on the dragon race, but this particular dragon you had read about before in a book once- but only briefly. A wyvern you think it was called.

The creature was large, as tall as the trees- one not quiet fully grown yet you imagined. Or maybe it was because the creature was folded in on itself, crouched to the ground as it tugged on it’s trapped legs- so it appeared smaller en masse.

A large bear trap had sunk it’s sharp metal teeth into the scaled leg of the mighty creature. With nowhere near enough space to try and fly away- trap attached or not- and no room to try and back away, shake it off or even break the chain that held the trap in place, the dragon was ultimately stuck in whining pain.

It’s scales were that of ashen red; the color of a fine blush, but rough to the texture like brick. It’s arms were large and folded inwards, the talons of one digging into the earth to steady itself and the other crawling at the trap futility. It’s long tail was curled around it’s back and the length of it disappeared behind the tree line where you suspected it was barbed at the end. It’s head was long, thin and had three horns- one on the end of its nose and two on either side of it’s head.

Needless to say, it was a wonder to witness. A dangerous wonder, but a wonder no less.

Dragons were a very rare sight around human territory. They hated the human race and for reasons that you couldn’t blame them for. Years ago, you had read about a war- if you could call it that- that took place between human and dragon.

The humans in their invincible high from all sorts of discoveries and conquering of other places had decided to set their sights on the dragons. If they could tame the mighty beasts of the skies and elements and use them as war creatures- the people would reign over all. That’s what they had assumed.

They had no idea just what they had signed themselves up for when they marched into Dragon Country. The doom that took place was instantaneous for the first brave and foolish group of marchers and it only got worse.

A group of nearly 400 men were slaughtered at the hands of just a few dragons who were the first to be approached as mere animals. Burned alive, crushed, eaten, slashed into ribbons- the humans stood no chance in hell.

Then, the dragon’s returned the favor. If the humans wanted war, so be it. The dragon race was smart, far smarter than the average genius human being. With magic on their side along with their mighty strength and numbers, they took to the Humanlands and burned it to the ground.

This pathetic war lasted no longer than a week and nearly one-third of the human population was blown away from the very beasts they had wanted to tame and use.

The two had long since left each other alone, no one wanting to repeat the past. Humans fear dragons due to the stories- that was unavoidable. However, dragons live long and hate even longer. They can hold a grudge longer than that of a devil or demon.

That is what shook you to your core as you gazed at this one single dragon caught in the woods of the Humanslands. Why was it so far from Dragon Country? Had it wandered here because of boredom? Perhaps it was banished by the king of dragons you had known about. Or maybe this dragon was just foolish. You weren’t sure and you less sure if you’d stick around long to find out.

The creature was a terror and the snarls and whines and cries that came from it were something that would surely haunt you in the middle of the night when you hear the wind howl. Regardless of that however, you felt pity for this dragon.

As of the moment, it had hurt no one and you had heard no word of any dragon attacks. It was just stuck, injured and helpless. Before you could muster up the conscience to quietly leave, you stepped forwards just an inch and knocked a small rock from its place on a tree root.

The dragon’s head whipped up, it’s sensitive nose finally catching a whiff of a different scent that wasn’t of Woodland descent now that it wasn’t as preoccupied with the stupid bear trap.

It’s black coal eyes narrowed as it’s mouth opened to show its rows of white fangs that could easily devour you. A violent shiver ran through your entire body as your eyes connected with its own. You were discovered and there was no going back down.

Swallowing the lump in your throat felt like a massive stone was lodged inside. You took a few more shaky steps forward, showing your entire body to the beast. It’s winged arms lifted in defensive as it’s head lowered; it’s chin becoming level with the ground and still growling. You could see plumes of steam coming from its mouth due to it’s hot breath.

It was clear this particular creature wanted nothing to do with you- a human- and you couldn’t blame it. You didn’t want to be here either. This situation could end with you getting killed, but your morality and ability to sympathize with the weak or injured was larger than the risk of your safety.

Lifting your arms to show you had nothing on you, you started to enter the small clearing.

“Easy,” you hushed softly as the dragon snapped it’s jaw just one time in warning. You gulped again, daring to take another stupid and foolish step. “I want to help,” you said. Earning another growl in response didn’t shock you.

It took several minutes, a handful of snaps to stay away, constant growls and steam filled breaths for you to even get within arms reach of the trap. You were sure that if you made one wrong move the creature would bite you in half- but you had to take a chance.

You think the dragon knew this too. You were the closest thing to an escape it would probably find that wasn’t going to go and tell other humans to capture or kill it. It would cooperate until it was free, you were sure of that- but after? You could only imagine.

It’s winged arms were around you, shading you from the sunlight that the tree’s didn’t cover as your fingers brushed the cool metal of the trap. As you eyed it you wondered why someone would make such a large trap in the first place. It seemed far too large and frankly a bit overkill for a just a bear trap.

You look over your shoulder to see the head of the dragon that was the size of your body staring down at you just above your head. You swallowed for the nth time that morning in nervousness.

“I’m going to try and release it,” you say. “It’s going to hurt.”

You carefully pulled the sleeves of your dress up as you curled your fingers around the thick metal teeth. The scales of the dragon were broken and destroyed as the trap dug into it’s reptilian-like skin.

Blood had already begun to stain the metal. The trap’s teeth were warm- warmer than the rest of the trap due to the dragon's blood being so much hotter than an average animal or human. It’s hot, like steamed bathwater, and it steamed the metal to warm your hands almost uncomfortably.

You took a breath before you started to pull your arms away, fingers aching from pulling on the teeth to try and open the trap. You had been thankful in the moment that you did indeed chop your own firewood because it built up some bit of muscle in the grand scheme of things. The trap began to give and slowly creaked open bit by bit. The dragon’s coal black eyes widened a fraction as it started to wriggle it’s leg.

“Stop moving,” you hissed instinctively. If it thrashed too much, you could loose your grip and then it would just clamp down on it’s leg again. With a whining and grunting mixture of sounds, you soon pried it open enough to where you were almost certain the creature could free itself. “Okay,” you huffed in endurance as you held it open, “move!”

The dragon was quick to rip it’s leg out of the trap and send it, and you, off the ground. The rapid motion tore you away from the trap, the metal scratching your fingers as you fell to your ass and then onto your back in the dirt as the trap snapped shut again away from you. It fell to the Woodland floors empty and bloody as you hissed on your back.

You pain and breathlessness were soon replaced by fear and anxiety when you felt the dragon you had just freed hover over you. It’s taloned, long, winged arms were on other side of your body and it’s hind legs- one of them being the proffered injured one that still bled over it’s brick colored scales- were perched like it was ready to pounce.

It’s nostrils were hovering above your chin as it’s eyes bore dangerously into your own.

This was it. You were going to die, you were almost certain of it now.

The dragon huffed as it opened its mouth. Small licks of fire fanned across it’s tongue in the dark cavern of it’s fang lined mouth and steam pushed from it’s nostrils like a chimney that hadn’t been opened to let out the smoke of the fire in it’s hearth.

You were petrified, frozen in fear and weren’t even capable of breathing. All of your senses were focused on the threat of death inches away from you and you knew that no one would know that you died. No one would find it odd that you weren’t in the village like you were every few weeks or so. They wouldn't find it strange that your cabin was abandoned. And you were certain that they would not conduct a search for you- you didn’t matter to them in the long run.

You were going to die and you were going to do so alone and your body would stay alone until the earth reclaimed it in it’s soil.

The dragon only then opened its mouth further, roared into your face and then sprung off you. It plunged into the tree line, knocking down and busting through the trees and tearing up the soil beneath its claws and talons as it escaped. Running from you and leaving you alive.

“What,” you breathed as you soon let out a strong, almost painful, burst of air that had been held and contained in your chest. Your heart beat strong like it would burst straight from your chest into the sky. You weren’t sure how long you lay in the dirt just trying to regain control of your body that had been previously paralyzed.

When you did manage to pick yourself up- albeit pathetically- you grabbed your discarded basket once again and rushed home.

“No more outside,” you declared to yourself in the clearing of trees and the one bloody trap left behind.

-x-x-x-

Despite the events of the day behind you, once your heart calmed itself and you were able to finally rationally think again instead of assuming you were at death’s door, your mind would flutter back to the dragon and it’s injury.

As you carried in buckets of water from your well or logs of wood for your fireplace, you worried. You felt silly worrying over such a mighty and strong being, but you couldn't stop that cloud from covering your mind. You wondered how it was doing or if it made its way out of the Woodlands- only briefly thinking about the damaged and torn or uprooted trees in its wake.

You went to bed that night far earlier than usual. The blanket of black had not yet completely enveloped the sky of deep orange and red. However, maybe the early bedtime hadn’t been a bad idea, considering you were awoken in the middle of the night anyway.

It was a small noise in the distance. A sound like the padding of paws of a dog running on wood or horse clops on cobblestone. Small and forgettable, but almost irritating and grinding on the nerves of the listener.

Crawling out of bed almost at zero energy levels from your previous encounters, you shook your head to try and shake the sleepiness away. Trudging to your door, you cracked it open to try and see if it was some foxes scraping in the glory of midnight or maybe some critter getting into trouble. Instead, when your door opened, the sounds of an eerily familiar growl filtered through the air.

All tiredness from before flew away as you shut the door harshly and grabbed your cloak to throw over your nightdress. You rushed to your table to grab your glass covered lantern and lit it before blowing out the match and tossing it. Going back to your door you threw it open again and ran out of it. You didn’t even bother locking it, the key still hanging on it’s key as it flopped against the wall from the air of the forcefully shut door.

You ran through the woods, trying your best not to trip on any rocks or sticks. You let out an occasional wince from your bare feet scraping too hard on the dirt or catching on the rough end of a stone. You were going down hill when you saw in the shadows a series of trees uprooted or knocked in two with claw marks on the trunks.

You tried skidding to a stop when the hill started to level out steadily, but there was a fat chance of that happening. You threw open your arms and snagged a tree trunk to forcefully stop yourself from going further. Your legs flew out in front of you far too dramatically for a spontaneous run in the woodlands at midnight as your lantern nearly flew out of your grasp.

You huffed as you heard the same growls you had heard before echo around you. You could hardly see, but you could tell the outline of the dragon in the darkness. You looked around as your lantern had lost it’s flame.

You dug in the pocket you had sewn into your nightdress and struck another match, lighting it again as the fire dimly lit up your face. You were now fully aware you were seen- even though you knew it already to begin with.

The dragon had previously been nipping and lapping at it’s wound with it’s split tongue before you had interrupted it’s silence.

“I knew it,” you whispered as you saw the same dragon from before. You slowly approached it, somehow feeling a little more confident than earlier even though it still growled at you. “Hey,” you soothe, “you know me. Just let me see,” you said as you walked around it’s curled body to it’s injured leg. Lifting your lantern up to see better, you weren’t shocked to see the scales still wet with troves of blood. Just how much blood did dragons have?

If a human bled this much for this long, you were sure they’d be long dead by now.

You carefully set your lantern aside and worked around your neck to remove your white cloak from your shoulders. “Hold still,” you instructed as you started to rather sloppily wrap the wound. You couldn’t let it just keep bleeding and it wasn’t like you had anything else to try and wrap it in- you’d just have to sew a new cloak or buy a new one in the village.

You didn’t even take the time to be shocked that the dragon once again let you do as you pleased in aiding it’s unfortunate situation. In fact, it was silent. There was no growling or snarling, just the sound of hissing when you brushed against the wound or wrapped your cloak around it too tight.

When you finished, you almost pouted at the sight of your cloak already starting to dot with the dragon’s hot blood seeping through the fabric. A loss, yes, but you felt like it was worth it from the relief you felt in your chest at the dragon’s ease of tension.

“If you stay put,” you started, grabbing your lantern again and looking up at the dark eyes of the dragon you were becoming almost familiar with, “I can come back in the morning with something to help you.” The dragon showed no sign of obeying or denying you and you weren’t going to stick around and press the issue.

At the end of the day, it could still very well tear you apart.

You soon left the dragon’s side, the fire of your lantern lighting your way back home. You’d come back just as you said you would and if the dragon was still there, then you’d try and help further so that it can eventually go back home. Even you knew that it had a home somewhere and you were sure that home was missed to some degree.

When you returned to your cabin, you breathed a small sigh of relief when you saw that in your haste of not locking your door behind you- no nightcrawler had snuck in and wrecked your home or stole anything. You walked inside, shutting and tightly locking up behind you as you set your lantern on your table.

Wincing at your sore feet, you wrapped them in cloth and a paste of herbs you had in a jar to help soothe aches and pain before you tucked yourself back into bed. Hopefully, you could stay asleep until the sun rises this time.

-x-x-x-

You were pleased to see that when you opened your eyes again, you could hear the birds and see the sunlight of what looked like late morning. At least you managed to get some decent sleep- although you weren’t all too surprised looking back on the last 24 hours. A lot had happened and to say it was taxing was an understatement.

You were slow moving this morning; another thing you weren’t shocked about.

Trudging around your cabin, you walked around in your nightdress gathering small jars of salves and ointments that could be useful to the dragon in the woods that may or may not still be there with your- no doubt- beyond salvaging cloak.

When you finally got changed, you threw on a dress of a fairly unflattering shade of brown since you may be kneeling on the ground or thrown into the dirt again from the dragon. You wrapped up a new layer of paste for your still sore feet before pulling them into your boots. You grabbed your basket with your half-hazardly thrown together first aid treatments and left your cabin- actually locking the door this time.

It was all a blur on what direction you rushed to last night in your sleepy, adrenaline pumped haze, but you were able to clearly see where your footsteps pressed into the soil. Following your own trail, you carefully descended the hill you flew down the night before and when it all leveled out, you smiled at seeing the dragon sleeping peacefully in the same spot you left it.

“Good,” you breathed happily. You were glad it stayed put- whether it was because you asked or not didn’t matter. You would be able to help more now and nothing filled your chest with more glee than being of use to someone, or rather something in this way. Healing was your passion after all.

You slowly padded up to the sleeping dragon and decided against working on it while it slept. It could spring to life and attack you out of instinct for all you knew. You sat a good distance from its body and in view of it’s line sight for when it woke up you wouldn’t be hidden. You sat on the ground, you're back against the trunk of a tree as you started digging around your basket for the folded and wrapped up herbs you had.

You weren’t sure how long you sat in the tree shaded morning sun plucking, grinding and mixing different herbs together in a cloth draw pouched you had with you. Eventually you started to hear groans from the dragon ahead of you. You figured that if the first thing the creature sees when waking up was you staring at it, then you’d push away any future idea of treating its leg. So, you kept yourself occupied with your herbs until it made a noise of awareness.

A handful of minutes pass when you feel a warm wind push towards you. Instinctively, you look up to see the dragon’s dark eyes looking at you. You smile at the mighty beast, the polar opposite of yesterday’s fear stricken paralysis.

You finished grinding a handful of mint smelling herbs between your palms to sprinkle into an oil you had with you as you swashed it around in it’s cork plugged jar. It was odd, doing your everyday tasks with a dragon for an audience.

When you finished, you stood up after placing the jar back under the cloth of your basket and brushed off your dress’s skirt. You fumbled around to grab the small oval container of salve before you started to approach the dragon.

It didn’t growl and it didn’t snarl. It extended it’s winged arms as it’s head dropped to the ground and it’s leg that was wound with your cloak that was now a deep shade of red was pushed out further for you to inspect. You didn’t want to let it get to your head that maybe, just maybe, this dragon was learning to trust you.

You knew that dragon’s had to have good instincts, so maybe it just realized that you weren’t a threat.

You carefully unwound your awfully tied cloak as you tossed it to the ground in a heap. You were glad to see that the hot blood that had been continuously seeping through brick red scales had finally stopped. You twisted open the container and began to smear the salve over and between the thick scales to the broken skin beneath.

You had expected them to be cooler to the touch like a lizard’s skin, but the scales and skin of the beast was warm like a freshly doused warm towel.

The dragon let you work in peace as it watched you without disruptions or growls. It didn’t even twitch if you touched a particularly pain-sensitive area.

When you finished, you placed the cap back over the salve and looked up at the dragon to address it. “The bleeding looks to be done, but we should cover it with something.” You looked down at your soiled cloak. “We can’t reuse that, it’s already used and we can’t put dried blood back on a wound.” You started to walk away to your basket to place the salve back and maybe take your cloth in your basket to try and at least tuck it into it’s scales or something when something snagged your dress skirt.

Yelping, you spun around and took a moment to process that the dragon had moved it’s winged talon to step on your dress to keep you from moving. Looking up to its face, you saw it looked at you with a calm expression flitting through its eyes and it shook its head.

“What?” You asked more to yourself than the dragon. “You don’t want it to be wrapped?” The dragon only moved it’s head back to look at it’s leg before lifting it’s arm back up and freeing you. You trotted back to the dragon’s leg and squinted at it like he was trying to tell you to.

You gasped at seeing how the wound already looked way better than it had just twenty minutes ago. You saw the damaged scales start to repair themselves as the skin below it’s scaled armor pulled itself back together and became covered again. You looked back to the dragon’s face, relief evident in your expression as you breathed out a sigh of happiness with a hand on your chest like a weight had been lifted off you.

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m glad that the rumors of a dragon’s healing potential are true at least.” You went back to your basket, dropping the container of salve inside as you lifted it back into your arms. “I’m going to be on my way then,” you said. You felt a little bad for leaving so soon, but you had hardly gotten anything down yesterday because of your meeting with the beast, so you were already behind on your own personal tasks.

You still needed to find some goldenrod and if you were honest, plucking some stuff to replace the amount of salve you used on the dragon’s leg wouldn’t be so bad either.

As you left into the thick Woodland, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched. You peered over your shoulder several times and from somewhere you could almost tell that the dragon was watching you from beyond the trees. Dragons had eyesight far stronger than human eyes, so when you felt a stare on your back, you didn’t doubt it.

It was obvious that it couldn’t travel through the Woodlands like you could without plowing down trees in its wake and it wasn’t exactly spacious enough to spread its wings and take off in this section of the woods.

When you left a location you could feel the eyes following you and even heard stomping in the distance of the dragon moving so it could keep you in it’s sights. You wondered briefly why it would be following you around if not for it wanting to eat you, but you just shrugged it off.

It was just past midday when you had finally started to depart back to your cabin. As you unloaded your basket inside your cabin and began to put everything away, you went back outside to gather a bucket of water from your well and you nearly jumped out of your skin from the sounds rustling behind your home.

If the glimpse of horns and wings was anything to go by, you knew that the dragon had somehow squeezed around the trees and followed you back to your cabin. Even closer to human territory. You crept around the cabin and met the dragon face to face for yet another time as you just smiled at it. It seemed relaxed and at ease to your surprise.

“Are you going to follow me around now?” You playfully asked as all it did was let out a small huff. “I know you can understand me,” you teased as you looked it up and down. You felt bad mentally referred to it as ‘it’ all this time, but you had no idea how to tell what this wyvern was. “If you’re going to follow me around girl-” your sentence was stopped short at a small growl. You perched your brow up at the dragon as it glared down at you. “Boy?” You corrected as the unpleasant look left his eyes.

You ticked your head a bit, nodding to yourself.

“Okay, that settles that.”

Throughout your day, you had the company of a dragon sitting in your yard watching you work. When you were inside, you kept the front door propped open with a piece of wood at the bottom and the windows were open so the dragon could still see you and you could still talk to him.

You rambled- a lot. It felt silly to be having a one-sided conversation with a dragon, but you couldn’t help it. You didn’t want him to feel left out- as odd as it was to say in terms of the beast- so you talked about a lot of things. Your hobbies, the process of making an ointment or what herbs to crush and mix with something to get the smell of berries. How you cooked and what it was; you even offered him a loaf of bread; he denied it (which you were glad for because that would have been an expensive sacrifice).

“I actually live here alone,” you speak aloud from the inside of your house so he could hear you through the open window his head rested next to on the ground outside. “I’ve lived here all my life practicing medicine and plants. I take care of myself decently well considering I live in the Woodlands.” You paused, mixing some broth with a pot of steamed vegetables and spices you had been boiling. “My village doesn’t exactly like me or my studies all that much, so my life here works out in the long run.”

You wondered if he found your babbling annoying since he was just stuck listening to you ramble on about whatever came to mind to keep him somewhat entertained. Spilling your life story wasn’t a thrilling tale, but it was a silence filler. You figured he didn’t mind as much as you may think since he stuck around.

When the day was ending, he made a sound of disgruntled groaning that wasn’t exactly a growl, but a sound of attention. He was apparently announcing his departure. You waved the dragon off through the open window as he left back into the Woodlands and you assumed that this would be the final time you met him.

You would be wrong.

Because that following day as the sun was high at just past midday, there he was again. Steadily, he was visiting you often and he became a normal part of your life.

-x-x-x-

“Hey, Suga,” you called when the dragon came into view from your window as you read in the morning light. You had started calling him by the name weeks ago when you caught him sniffing through your window at whatever you were baking at the time and accidentally sucked a bag of sugar up his nostril. You would have called him Sugar, but he just growled at the soft sounding name, so removing the R was the best deal you could cut him. He didn’t indicate what his name actually was, but you couldn’t just keep calling him ‘dragon’ or ‘wyvern’.

You had some decency.

You shut your book, setting it in the open window as you got up and made your way out. The leg that had been injured weeks ago had healed like it wasn’t hurt in the first place. No scar left behind and no scale left tarnished- it pleased you in all honesty.

Walking to him, he lowered his head to the ground with a small sigh through his nostrils as you brought you hand to run along the scales of his nose and head. It was like having a giant lizard fawn over your touch- or rather that was exactly what it was.

“Good morning, I haven’t seen you in a few days. Did you have a safe trip?” You asked as he just let out a small swooned dragon sound. You had gotten good at deciphering what his sounds and noises meant to a certain degree.

You had noted that every so often he would disappear for days on end and then return- be it a few days to a week or more later. He would travel to Dragon Country and then return to check and visit with you, or so you highly assumed. You knew that was his country and his home, so it was no shock to you that he went back. The shock was that he kept coming back to your cabin in the Woodlands.

You had read dragons were loyal, but this was astonishing. If regular visits with a mighty dragon was your reward for treating and freeing him from a trap, you had no regrets in doing so.

You stopped your ministrations on his head as you turned to go check off whatever chore you had left to do this morning off your to-do list when you felt his nose push into your back. Shoving you playfully forwards, you stumbled on your feet as you turned around with a playful smile and lifted brows.

“Oh you wanna play that way, huh?” You riled as he just huffed steam into your face. Your hair and dress whipped behind you as you just scoffed and jumped at him. The dragon shot to it’s legs and winged talons, skillfully dodging your puny, human lunges.

When you snagged your foot on your dress skirt and was ready to take a tumbling, ungraceful fall to eat dirt, his nose shot under you and caught you before you even made it close to the ground. Hooking your wasit with his horn, he nudged you back up to your feet as you just laughed at him and stroked his nose once again in gleeful thanks.

Suga almost purred- if dragon’s could ever.

As you spent your day with your companion, the sky started to tell you that night was coming and Suga’s departure once again was near. You were out in the yard, sitting on the grass with your basket beside you and all sorts of herbs, a grinding stone and jars and jugs to mix and create with. Suga lay behind you, curled around you like a protective wall, lazing away silently, but not sleeping. Just relaxed.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” You asked as you sprinkled some flower petals into a bottle of clear oil. He whined- a signal for no. “Going back to Dragon Country already, huh?” He huffed in agreeance as you chuckled. He sounded so sulky. “Will you be gone for a while this time?” He made no noise, but his head moved to affirm a yes. Another handful of quiet, dragonless days were in your future it seemed. “Well, be safe on your way. Watch out for traps,” you teased as he moved his body back just a bit for you to teeter backward from where you were leaning against him.

When he left you that night, his nose pressed against your torso as your arms wrapped around it in farewell. He had only started doing that recently- after his last trip back to Dragon Country in fact.

You always felt a little bit colder when he left you like that.

Four days passed and on the morning of the fifth, you had walked out of your house early in the morning with a freshly sown cloak of brick red and an empty basket. You dreaded going into the village for a great many reasons. But you simply couldn’t push it off any further and you needed things that only the merchants and shops in town would have.

It helped that when strangers would come into the woodlands and see your house, they would almost always knock on your door from curiosity and you’d always take any chance to sell something of your creation for a decent amount.

Locking your cabin door, you started your trip. You sighed. Hopefully, you’d be able to get into town and then get out just as quickly.

Suga had returned that day as he approached your cabin. He heard nothing inside and saw no sign of you around. Peering into our windows, you weren’t inside from what he could tell and he pouted at not seeing you. He lay at the side of your cabin, his head lay by your front door as he waited for you to come back.

A few hours passed and his ears picked up on the sound of your footsteps- he had familiarized himself with the sound and weight you put into your steps- as his eyes opened ready to greet you. However, a growl slipped past his fangs as he saw you come from the dirt trail between the trees that lead further out of the Woodlands.

You were shocked to see him back so soon as you wiped some sweat off your brow. Sweat that was mixed with dirt and the smallest dried patch of blood.

You had forgotten that Suga had never seen you go into and back from your village before, so the growl pulled from his throat made you shiver. Your forehead had a small cut about the length of your knuckle and your lip had a split in it. Your dress had grass strains in the knees and up the side of it as specks of dirt spotted your face and neck.

You walked to your door, setting your basket down with a cloth over it, the items you had gotten covered as you walked to Suga and placed your hand on the horn at the end of his scaled nose.

“What is it?” You ask, oblivious that it was your current state of disarray that made him fume with unease. He pulled his horn from your palm as he moved to nuzzle his nose into your torso. You stretched your arm to stroke under his eye as you soothed him. “Suga?” It wasn’t until he refused to move that you realized he was wondering if you were well and then you realized. “Oh,�� you breathed, “I’m alright.”

He finally moved away from you and stared at you. You moved to pat his horn once before your fingers went under his scaled chin to lazily rub there. He almost hummed at the actions as you smiled with your split lip.

“This happens every time I go down to the village. Don’t worry too much, Scaly Hide.” As you soothed him, you weren’t completely aware of just how your injures made his dragon blood boil hotter than usual. You had been nothing but kind and vulnerable and truthful to him- a dragon- for no other reason than that’s just who you were as a person. Seeing you all cut up because of others? He found it absolutely preposterous.

As you rubbed beneath his chin, you started talking again. Your voice taking on a small wave of emotion he hadn’t heard from you before.

“I’m almost jealous of you,” you told him. His barbed tail twitched at your words. “I don’t know what the world of dragons is like, so I can’t say whether or not you understand the scorn of others. The prospect of you not having to deal with other humans though is one to be envious of.” Your eyes had a far off look of sadness that riddled his scaled body with pain.

He pulled his head from your hand and moved to nudge it behind you. He pushed your body against the giant wall of scales that is his own body as you started laughing at him. It wasn’t hard to understand an awkward attempt of a dragon wanting to console you. You raised your arms, reaching around what you could as you hugged his neck while his head stayed pushed against your back over your shoulder.

Suga didn’t understand how humans could do this to others of the same race. Dragon’s weren’t just comrades in arms in battle, but they were kin. They were branches of family, dear friends and reliant to each other in a way that didn’t just revolve around war and destruction. Of course, his race wasn’t perfect either with the occasional rouge or traitorous dragon, but those specific turncoats were always taken care of.

He couldn’t understand why humans hurt you, and he didn’t want to understand why. He just wanted it to stop.

When you finally stepped away from him and got back into his line of sight in front of him the look on your face made him feel better. It looked like you were already recovering from all the bad emotions that plagued you earlier. He blew a small huff of steam into your face playfully as you swatted at his horn.

“I’ve been curious,” you started, “I read once that dragons have large quantities of magic and even have a second form they can change into. A human form that is different with each species. Do you have one?” His chin dipped as he let out a noise of confirmation. He did have one, though it had been years, maybe even centuries since he last changed into it. He didn’t even remember what it looked like anymore- he had forgotten about it truthfully.

Your eyes light up in excitement at the discovery.

“You do! That’s so cool!” Your over-excitement almost startled the poor beast. You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned back to head inside and put your things away and to wash off the grime of your injuries. “I kind of want to see what it looks like,” you mutter, unable to realize that your thoughts slipped out in the form of words that were just loud enough for the dragon to hear.

Suga was quiet as he stood guard outside your home for the rest of the afternoon. The only time you left was when you went down to the small lake nearby and washed up. He was a distance away to keep anything or anyone else from intruding on your privacy. He seemed tense, but also not- even if it didn’t make sense. You tried asking him what was wrong with him, but he just nuzzled his head into your chest without a sound.

When you told him goodnight he left in the same silence he had been sitting in all day. It took a little longer for you to go to sleep because of your worry.

The next morning, you woke up and did what you always did. Same old routine with the label of a different day. Though, when you left your home to go and grab a few pieces of cut up wood for your fireplace, you stopped short. Outside your door, sleeping against the side of your house on the ground was a man.

You hadn’t seen this man before in your life and you were shocked speechless as you looked him over. He was dressed oddly, far different than the men in your village dressed.

His body was lean and covered in small scars around his chest, as shown from the absences of a shirt. A long, black cape hung at his back that he used to lounge on instead of the hard, dirt ground as the collar of it was covered in fur that covered his shoulders and brushed against his chin. His pants were brown and baggy that wrapped around his ankles and displayed his bare feet that were no doubt covered in calluses. Red gauntlets ran from his wrists to his elbows on both arms that were crossed against his bare chest.

You were hesitant to wake him up, but this was your cabin and it was early in the morning. If Suga came by to see another man here, he could get defensive and that was a scenario you really didn’t want to witness.

You knelt at his side, the door to your cabin still open behind you just in case he was hostile and you had to retreat back inside in a rush. You reached out and grabbed his shoulder- his skin was hot. You shook him once- nothing.

“Excuse me?” You squeaked as you shook him again. He groaned as his head nodded off to the side before his chin dipped and you saw his brows moving underneath the fridge of his black hair. You retracted your hand when you felt his shoulders move up and heard him take in a breath of awakening. “Sir, are you alright?”

Lifting his head, his eye were narrow and dazed in sleep as he looked up at you. They were beautiful. They were dark, black and shining like obsidian jewels. They were... familiar? You squinted at him as he opened his mouth.

“Oh,” he lazily breathed out. His voice felt like a breeze of summer wind. “You finally woke up,” he told you as you just started inquisitively at him.

“Isn’t that my line,” you quipped back. “Do I,” you hesitated, “have we met before?” He didn’t answer you as he just sat up straighter and raised his hand to your face. His warm hand ran along your jaw to your lip where he pushed against the scabbed over split in it. You flinched away from his touch as you backed away from him, your eyes locked onto his without any will power to break the contact.

“You said you wanted to see what my human form was like,” he point forwardly told you. You looked him over one more time before returning to his eyes. So that’s why they looked so familiar.

“Suga?” You asked with a pitched voice.

“My name is actually, Yoongi,” he smirked as an unfamiliar heat rose in your cheeks.

-x-x-x-

Yoongi’s visits continued and he often stayed in his human form around you now. He would waltz into your home with you and even started helping you with chores around the cabin. He’s taken to splitting your firewood (although he wouldn’t use your hatchet, he’d just rip the logs in half), and would carry things for you when you were moving to and fro. He’d watch you cook and learn if you offered to teach him something.

You had to admit that having him walking and working around with you as a human instead of a wyvern was a lot more convenient. Plus, this way he was able to have actual conversations with you.

The season’s started to change and the cool breath of autumn began to creep into the air. You would often wonder if Yoongi would stop coming to visit when the temperature drops.

“Yoongi?” You called as he sat in the middle of your floor in front of the burning fire. It was late in the afternoon as you were cooped up inside away from the chilly air. He turned to look over his shoulder at you over his fur lined cape collar.

“Hmm?”

“When winter comes, will you still visit me?” You asked as you took a drink from your warm tea before setting it back down on the table with the book you had been reading before. “I mean, you’re still technically a reptile in basic regards, so you must not like the cold that much.”

“It’s true that I don't like the cold,” he said, “I hate it. It makes my scales rough and then that makes it tough to move around.” You let out a small, nearly silent sigh. “However, if you get lonely, I’ll still come see you.” You looked back at him as he was staring at you completely serious.

The conversation died after that, you not having the heart to ask him to keep visiting. You couldn’t ask that of him if he disliked the cold that much. Surely, you’d be okay without him by your side for a few months, right? Besides, you still had until the first snow to spend with him, autumn had just started after all.

Another week passed and you had once more traveled into the village for some items you needed that you had run out of. It was no shock seeing a trip to the village so soon after the last considering you had been feeding and caring for Yoongi when he came to your cabin. Supplies run a lot faster on two figures instead of just one.

Yoongi had been gone the last couple days, so you assumed he’d be popping by anytime now so you went as soon as you could. To your misfortune, when you returned once again roughed up, Yoongi was sitting in front of your cabin door waiting for you. You had half a mind to sneak in through your bedroom window and avoid him for a bit before you let him in to avoid him seeing your freshly beat body.

Though, you spent just enough time in mental turmoil that he had seen you already.

He jumped to his feet, his face an expression of shock as he ran to meet you half way as you walked to your cabin. You greeted him with a smile just as you always did.

“Good-”

“Hush,” he shushed you as he quickly took the basket from your arms and set it on the ground at your feet. He took your chin between his fingers and started tilting and moving your head around in different angles looking you over. Your cheeks flushed as he stared intently at you. You knew it was just an inspection of your wounds, but it still made your heart pound in your chest. “They hit you again,” he growled.

“Yoongi, it’s alright.”

“No,” he seethed, “it is not.” You swore you started to see small wisps of smoke seep from his nose as he breathed steam. He must be really angry, you though. “They cannot just keep treating you like this just because you’re you.” The hand that held your chin moved to rest on your cheek before gliding up to your forehead- pushing your hair back as his hand moved to rest on the back of your head. “Human’s really are cruel,” he whispered.

You couldn't argue with that.

“I’m already used to their treatment,” you attempt to sooth. The physical pain may still occur with each lashing, but you had long since grown emotionally distant from them. They couldn’t break you any further.

“You shouldn’t be. You should be treated with respect and kindness.”

“Like how you treat me,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Yoongi paused, his hand coming down to rest on the crook of your neck, his long nails running over your pulse point as his eye softened.

“No,” he whispered. “I’m the only one who can treat you this way.”

“What?” You were confused. He treated you exceedingly well and he wanted other people to treat you better too, but not like him? “That doesn’t make much sense, Yoongi.”

“It does to me.”

“Well, then the argument is officially over, huh?” You chuckled as he brought his hand off you and reached for your basket. He let a smirk grace his lips as he turned and led you back to your cabin so he could help you clean your injuries.

As he helped treat and dress your wounds and even helped you make the daily meals, he would nit pick about you going into town. He offered to start going with you, or at least waiting on the edge of the village so he wouldn’t make a fuss in human society with his less than human approach to things, but you denied him.

He wanted to argue with you, to let him do as he wanted, but you just told him that you usually only went on days he wasn’t with you. It was never planned, but things just always seemed to fall in that manner.

In the end, he yielded on the subject; however, before he left that night, he presented you with something. A flower-sized, brick red scale. He placed it in your palm before he left you.

“If something ever happens, you use that scale and call for me. I’ll come flying over as quickly as I can.” You laughed at his over protectiveness. Dragon Country was miles off from here, so it would take him more than a handful of minutes to get to your cabin depending on where in the world of his kind he was at in the given situation. You accepted the scale nonetheless, grateful for his tender gesture.

Everything seemed fine again for time, until Yoongi came to your cabin and saw you prepping to go into the village yet again one morning. He scowled as he watched you pull your red cloak over your shoulders and grab your basket as you pulled on your boots. He hid behind the wall of your home as you locked the door and were on your way.

Yoongi didn’t want you to know he was there following you. He stayed behind you as you walked the Woodlands trail back to society and the entire way he pouted that you had once again not told him you were going.

He stood on the outskirts of the village that brought you harm, sitting high up in a treetop to avoid being seen. He knew going into the village after you would get him caught and he knew that if someone even looked at you strangely, he’d probably snap.

He sat there for a while, just waiting and watching until you finally showed up again, ready to head back home. His back straightened as he almost smiled seeing you unharmed. He was going to jump down and greet you, fess up that he had followed you and let you scold him as he walked you back home, but before he could even begin moving, he stiffened.

Knelt on the tree branch he hid behind the brown, red and yellow leaves that hadn’t fallen to the ground and the black of his cape as a group of boys not much older than yourself ran up behind you. You were just at the tree line of the Woodlands when they had taken your basket from you and shoved you from behind, making you fall to your knees with a cry.

He was technically in Woodland territory, he had no problem showing himself outside of your village.

As you rolled onto your back, ready to shove your way to your basket and scurry away just as you had a million times before, something fell from the treetops behind you. Twisting your body, you only saw a blur shoot past you before one of the three boys was on his ass in the dirt groaning.

Turning back to your front, your mouth dropped open.

“Yoongi?!” One boy had helped the other off the ground as the last was squaring up to start a scrap with this random guy who had popped out of the Woodlands. You wanted to shoot up and tell them to stop it and leave Yoongi alone, but they froze before you could even warn them.

The three of them swallowed as they started taking small steps backward in retreat.

Yoongi had tensed his whole body, fingers curled with his claws out. His face had scales trailing from his cheekbones to his chin as his eyes seeped with complete blackness. It was like his hair was standing on end as he snarled and raised his lips to bare his fangs at the offenders. He was daring them to try him.

Anyone with two eyes, even one eye, could clearly see this man was a dragon and nothing short of a fierce one who didn’t know how to stand down. Not willing to pick a fight with a being of that caliber and not being properly prepared to boot, the trio turned tail and ran back into the village.

It was deathly silent as they retreated and Yoongi’s body seemed to relax as you started at his back. His still shoulders went slack as his squared and ready to pounce stance calmed and straightened back out. His hair settled and the small growls you had heard before disappeared.

“Uh, Yoongi?” You call softly, not knowing if he was going to whip around and start yelling at you or not.

He did not.

He calmly walked to the basket they had taken from you, picking it up and walked back to your side. He set it down before he grabbed your arms gently and started to pull you off the ground. Once you stood on your feet, he straightened out your cloak as you brushed off your dress skirt.

“What are you doing out here?” You asked him, but he didn’t answer you. He just placed his hand on the small of your back, turning you around before he gently pushed you forward to start you off back into the Woodlands and back to your cabin.

No matter how you tried to talk to him, he never answered the entire trip. He was completely silent and he didn’t give you any facial ques on what his problem was either. He stayed quiet, a still canvas all the way into your cabin where he sat your basket on your table then sat himself in front of your fireplace that wasn’t even lit yet. It was like the might dragon was pouting.

“Yoongi, please just come over here,” you plead. You walk behind him as you see his shoulders slump in a silent sigh before he’s standing in front of you again. He turns and looks down at you and instead of an angry look in his eyes like you were expecting, you see them shine with unshed tears. “Yoongi-”

He pushes the words from your throat out of you as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pushes you face into his warm, bare chest. He lets out a small, shaky breath as his hold tightens around you. The hand on the back of your head holding you to him felt desperate and sad. You reach around him and snag you hands on the inside of his fur lined cape behind his back.

“I was worried about you,” he all but whimpers. “I know I shouldn’t have followed you, but you didn’t tell me that you were going to that village again and I just couldn’t stop myself. I was so relieved to see you unharmed as you were leaving, but then those scumbags,” he cut himself off with a harsh breath. “Does that really always happen to you?”

You nod and give a weak ‘yes’ in reply.

“No more,” he tells you. “I won’t let it happen anymore. I’ll keep you safe and I’ll protect you from them. Even when winter comes, I won’t stop visiting you. I’ll keep coming back, I promise.” You wanted to deny him, tell him not to worry about it since he can’t stand the cold. But, you felt selfish and you wanted him to keep coming back. You wanted him to dote on you and to keep you safe like he says.

“I’ll be relying on you then,” was all you told him. When the moment is past, you pull away from his warm chest to look up at him with a playful grin. “You’re pretty pushy when it comes to my safety, it’s almost cute.”

He shoves you at your jest as he tells you to sit down and go unpack your things. He plops himself back in front of the fireplace, huffing a ball of fire to get it going in a hurry. You weren’t sure if it was the light from the fire or not that painted his cheeks pink.

-x-x-x-

You went without village harm for a month now. Just as he said, Yoongi was at your side at least every other day instead of a few days away at a time. He’d always ask if you were alright or anyone had given you any trouble. He knew when you were lying, he had gotten good at telling apart your quirks, so when you told him you were alright he was always relieved.

The weather kept getting colder and you kept getting more concerned about Yoongi’s choice to go against the cold to come see you as often as possible. You always thought about how to tell him to not come after the first winter snow to help his overall health; you just had to figure out a way to phrase it so that he’d actually listen.

It was one of those nights where you hadn’t gotten to sleep very early with your thoughts, and you had just drifted to sleep. You were somewhere between unconscious, yet aware as you briefly heard something in the distance. You weren’t awake enough to care and you weren’t aware enough to think it was something other than the nighttime animals.

A handful of minutes pass when you’re suddenly ripped from your sleep just as you were equally ripped from your bed. A grip on the back of your nightdress yanked you from your side sleeping position and pulled the fabric against your neck as you choked out a surprised gasp.

You kicked your legs in panic, your blanket hitting the floor of your room as you were pulled off your mattress and onto the floor. Hands grasped your biceps and began to drag you backward. You finally found your voice in the form of small screams and protests. You stumbled from the balls of your feet to your heels as you were pulled backward through your cabin before you were through the front door and on the ground.

Laying in the dirt and covered in goosebumps from the cold night air, you rolled to your back and propped yourself up with your elbows to see who just evicted you from your home. You shouldn’t have been shocked to see a band of men from the village, yet you were. You instantly started trying to scoot backward on your elbows and heels.

They were covered in furs and boots with torches in hand to light their way through the darkness. You looked at them in fear and confusion. What were they doing this far from the village and why were they here at all?

“What are you doing?!” You scream, your heels kicked into the dirt as your nails dig into the earth trying to back you away from one oncoming man, a blond one. You squirmed as one of his feet kicked at your wrist and pushed your back to the ground as he grabbed you by the collar of your nightdress. You whined, grabbing his wrist as you grimaced with squeezed shut eyes.

“You witch,” he accused as you peeked open your eyes. “We’ve let you live close to us, but you’ve gone and made a pact with a demon- a dragon!” Your eyes widened. Is this because Yoongi just popped out of nowhere a month ago when he followed you?

“You’re wrong!” You denied. You had no pact with him. He was just- you paused mentally. Was Yoongi a friend to you? You had been unconsciously thinking that for several weeks, but saying that out loud and admitting it to yourself as well as someone else- friendship didn’t feel like it did it justice. Was the connection you had with the dragon you saved from that trap- the same dragon who snarled in your face and decided not to kill you all those weeks ago- really just a friend? You swallowed.

Your breath lurched in your throat when the grip of your collar was released in turn for the hand to now encase around your throat fully. You gagged for a moment as the blond’s nails burned against your skin.

“Ransack the place!” The man who held your throat shouted over his shoulder. The two other men with him ran into your cabin and your squeezed shut eyes opened. You shoved the man’s hand off you, your neck burning as you pushed against his chest. He fell on the dirt as he groaned.

“Don’t! Leave my cabin alone!” You cried as you scurried to your feet. You didn’t get far before your ankle was grabbed and your leg yanked back. You tumbled ungracefully onto your chest, your nightdress riding up your legs and bum as you felt a weight on your back. The blond was sitting on you as you kicked. He held one of your arms behind your back and his other hand pushed your cheek into the dirt, holding your head down. “Stop it!” You cried into the earth as you heard sounds of destruction in your home.

Glass being thrown to the ground and broken, your shelves being pulled from the wall. You heard doors of cabinets opening and slamming shut after everything was pulled from them. The distant sounds of mess told you they were evening throwing things around in your room. You weren’t sure what they were looking for- evidence? But for what? Your connection with Yoongi to use against you?

“Hey!” One called from inside. “I found something!” Footsteps came back outside and stopped above your head. You were yanked up to sit on your knees- nightdress dirty and covered in small tears and frays of fabric- as the blond behind you snagged a hand in your hair pulling your head to look up. You winced as your eyes instinctively shut in pain before your chin was grabbed in a new hand.

A man stood in front of you, brown hair and accusatory eyes. In front of you, he dangled the scale of Yoongi’s he had given you that you had placed inside of a glass locket to keep it safe. You jolted in the blond’s grip, ripping your chin from the brunettes touch.

“Don’t touch that!” You screamed. The blond restrained you tighter. “Stop! That hurts!” You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

You weren’t sure how long those men kept you outside your home as they continued to trash it. You were less sure how long you were out in the cold, pinned to the ground and jerked around like a toddlers ragdoll.

Stomps to your legs to keep you from crawling or getting up and away. Jabs to the stomach to subdue you just long enough to restraining you as you tried to get your breath back. Knocks to the head to try and knock you out as you kept on fighting back. The cold was starting to get to you, your fingers and toes going numb. Scraps on your knees and elbows from the cold, autumn chilled dirt.

You were on your back on the ground, the same blond over your, pushing your face down as your arms were trapped under his knees that pinned you on either side.

You were close to giving up. You were going to lose your home- you expected them to set it on fire- and you were going to no doubt end up losing your life if this kept up. Would they take you back to the village and execute you? Tears trailed down the side of your face as you chewed on your lip.

This wasn’t fair.

“Yoongi,” you whimpered as your palms pushed into the earth, the dirt and rocks pushing into your skin just painful enough to keep you conscious.

It seemed instantaneous to you. It felt like a whirlwind just formed at the center of your small world as the gusts of wind blew around you. The man above you was blown off as he rolled in the dirt away from your tired, weak, and beaten body. Whimpers of terror rang in your ears from the other men as growling accompanied those whimpers.

Stomping and rushes of heat surrounded you with ignited sparks in the night sky. You managed to push yourself over to weakly roll onto your side and twist onto your stomach to look up at exactly what was happening. You didn’t see anything in front of you other than your cabin and the three men all on the ground cowering from the sight of something.

Your dazed eyes narrowed before you heard another growl and the feeling of something massive standing over you. Coming to a stomping halt at either side of you with distance to spare and to not make you feel suffocated, your eyes widened. You felt more awake now than the rest of the evening.

Twisting to look up, you were met with the mighty, giant form of the wyvern you had freed from the metal trap of men. Snarling with bared fangs and small puffs of fire on his tongue, Yoongi stood over you protectively.

Tears ran down your shocked face without your control at seeing him really showing up at your side when you truly, desperately needed him with you. You felt weak, but before your body could slump onto the ground, something grabbed you.

Another new body had looped their arms under yours to keep your chest off the ground and held you to them. You didn't recognize this person as you looked up at them. Another man, but this seemed far more mystic.

Snow white eyes with no iris or pupils to sit in their seas of white. Illuminated scales of white shone on their cheeks and their ears were pointed and finned. Hair as silver as the moon and skin as tanned as cooper. Was this another dragon? You couldn’t tell anymore; all you knew was that you felt safe in this person’s arms with Yoongi above you.

You slumped against them, your consciousness finally starting to fade on you with the adrenaline running low now that you felt a sense of safety. You couldn’t lose it yet, however; you had to calm Yoongi down. The men had stopped their attack in fear, so Yoongi didn’t need to instigate further.

“Yoongi,” you called weakly against the second dragon’s chest. “Don’t,” you pleaded. There was a small hush before the wind picked up and the stomping that was present before was replaced with harsh footsteps. Yoongi had reverted back to human form as he ran at the blond man who had previously held you down.

Yoongi’s long claws tore and pierced through the shirt fabric of the blond’s collar as he brought him up to his nose, snarling down at him. His fists shook in rage as his body trembled with restraint in your presence. Had you not been there, he was certain he would have killed all three of them without hesitation.

He picked the blond off the ground just enough to make his toes leave the grass as he threw him at the other two. He huffed, steam blowing out of his nose as his face remained angry.

“You ever come back here and I, as Y/n’s personal dragon, will tear you apart,” he threatened. “Now, leave!” He roared as the three men scrambled embarrassingly to their feet and down the trail back to whatever hole they crawled out of.

Yoongi huffed, breathless as he quickly heard your whimpers behind him. He spun around, rushing back to your side as he knelt on the ground beside you and took you from the other dragon’s grasp. He ran the back of his fingers along your cheek as you saw him. His calm, worried face brought you a sense of peace as you knew the trouble had left.

“Rest,” he whispered as you finally lost yourself to the unconsciousness that had been choking you around the throat.

-x-x-x-

You groaned slightly as your eyes cracked open. You were on your back as your lidded eyes were blurred staring up at the ceiling of your room. You were in a haze as you looked into nowhere. Thoughts were muddled in your head as you were aware of nothing for a handful of minutes, still high from sleep and drowsiness.

The sun shone through your open window as you heard the birds outside sing. It was bright- far brighter than you were used to waking up to.

It all came back to you all at once like a punch to the jaw. Memories of being dragged out of your bed, your home, to outside and pummeled until you were weak in the dirt as your home was broken into and wrecked.

Your arms shot up from under your blanket as they threw the covers off and you sat up straight as a rob. You sucked in a deep breath that hitched in your throat from the sudden movement that clouded you with a wave of dizziness.

Your palm moved to push into your forehead as your eyes squeezed shut and you hissed. Cracking them open, you felt something burn into your side like someone staring at you. Looking beside your bed, you weren’t wrong.

Sat on a stool beside your bedroom door was that same unfamiliar dragon with snow white eyes from the night before. You stared back at the unmoving dragon. Was he… sleeping? His eyes were open, but his arms that were crossed didn’t even twitch and his body was still as a corpse. He sat straight up and showed no signs of movement.

Did some dragon’s sleep with their eyes open? Yoongi didn’t, but maybe other breeds did.

“It is a relief to see you’ve awakened,” he suddenly spoke. You squeaked in shock, not expecting him to do- much less say- anything. “It has been a handful of hours since you lost consciousness.”

You looked away from him as you looked down at your lap. You scrunch your blanket in your palms, the same palms that you were finally starting to feel the stinging sensation of when you were thrown to the dirt. The small cuts and scrapes on your knees and legs and arms all started to tingle with an indescribably unpleasant feeling.

“So, that wasn’t just a nightmare after all,” you sulked to yourself.

“It seems that Sire holds a great deal of worry about your condition.”

Your brows drew close together in confusion.

“Excuse me?” You asked, confusion painting around your eyes. This dragon with no expression and no irises with the pure white eyes just stared at you. “Sire? Who are you talking about? No,” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “Who are you?” You re-ask, wanting to know this stranger dragon first. He was just sitting in your room watching over you, you figured an introduction wasn’t out of the question.

The dragon brought a webbed hand up to their chest, lowering their head to you in a small bow. You recoiled at such an action. No one had bowed to you before in your life- that was reserved for royals and people of importance. Not someone like you, a Woodlands hermit. The action made a blush fan across your cheeks in embarrassment.

“I am Navia. I work under Sire as the leader of the Dragon Guard of His Majesties palace. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. It is a pleasure, My Lady.” His voice was smooth like the surface of a peaceful lake surrounded by nature. His usage of honorifics only made the embarrassing red cheeks of yours darken.

“Y-you don’t need to address me like that!” You sputtered as you twisted on your bed to slide your legs out of your covers and hang them over the bedside. “Just Y/n, is fine. I don’t need any titles,” your voice wavered in embarrassment as the white eyes of Navia returned to you.

“I do not know if I will be able to address you so casually. It may displease him.”

“You keep mentioning someone; Sire? Who is that exactly?” Navia never got a chance to answer when their was three knocks on your bedroom door before it was opened. The redness in your cheeks was broken and a smile pulled on your lips on seeing Yoongi in your doorway. “Yoongi!” You happily called as he quickly made his way to your bed, kneeling in front of you taking your hands into his own.

“How long have you been awake? Are you in pain?”

“I haven’t been up long, I was just talking to Navia and introducing ourselves. I don’t feel particularly good, but I don’t feel particularly bad either. Though, I feel better than I did if that’s anything to be accounted for.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened at your smile. You talked so easily and so soon after you were attacked so brutally. He wondered where you found the strength to do so. If he was in your position he’d be a pot of boiling rage, but he didn’t sense anything like that from you. Yet, instead he could see the sorrow behind your eyes.

“Navia,” he spoke as the dragon behind him stood at the call of his name. “Give us a moment,” Yoongi’s voice was stern with instruction.

“As you wish, Sire.” You looked at Navia as he left. You looked back down to Yoongi who was already looking at you as if you were the only thing he wanted to look at for the remainder of his life.

“Sire? So, he’s been talking about you?” You quirked your brow as Yoongi’s hand left yours and moved to cup around your cheek. “Yoongi?”

“There is a lot I haven’t told you and there are a lot of things we need to talk about. I didn't mean to lie- to keep it from you, but I just never had the chance to bring it up. Things about me I’ve kept from you.” You remained silent as he spoke no more. You both sat in silence for a while as you gathered your bearing.

Yoongi had taken to tending to you. You showed him once how to properly wrap bandages around wounds, and so he did. He wrapped any wound that seemed painful (which was many to his eyes) before he was helping you off your bed.

“Yoongi, I’m not so hurt I can’t walk myself,” you chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your back to support you. One of your arms clutched at the cape behind him as the other supported your balance on his chest. He held you to his side as he was careful not to rush his steps and trip you up.

“Still, you’re in no condition to be completely independent right now. Allow me to help you.” You almost scoffed at his aid as if you weren’t able to handle yourself, but you did appreciate it- especially when he didn’t need to offer such kindness.

As he helped you out of your room, you were shocked to see not a trashed cabin like you expected, but it was almost completely clean aside from the broken cabinet doors that sat against the wall in a pile. Whatever would have been broken was picked up and things were on the counter and on the table out of the way and where they belonged. A fire was even lit in the hearth of the fireplace.

You looked up to Yoongi. Did he clean it up? He helped you to the table where he sat you down on the chair by the window where you would normally drink something warm. You felt a little bad you hadn’t set out a plate of feed for the birds and critters today- but allowed yourself a pass considering your situation.

Navia was sitting by the fireplace as he watched the two of you. Yoongi moved to sit on the table’s edge- as unmanneristic as it was, it somehow suited him. He was in front of you against the wooden table, his fingers brushing along your cheek that had a patch over it to cover your cuts.

“Where would you like me to start, Scale?” He asked you. Your face deepened when he addressed you like that. Was that his form of a nickname? You shook the thought away as you opened your mouth.

“My cabin, I guess?” You realize you didn’t give him much of a specific answer. “I mean, I was expecting it to be a nightmare, but it’s so clean?”

“That is because I cleaned it up,” he softly told you with a small smile. So, you were right. “The times I have been here, I was familiar with the placements of most of your belongings. Others I admit I guessed, but I couldn’t leave it like it was. You have enough to worry about.”

“Well, thank you for that,” you graciously tell him.

“It was nothing.” You spent a good portion of that day talking to Yoongi where you were. If you wanted to get up and move to take a break from the flood of answers to any question you had, he would help. Navia would walk around and do small chores for you if you were kind enough to ask- or have Yoongi tell him to. The tanned dragon was awfully obedient, yet kind to a fault it seemed.

The shortened days of winter were showing as the sky started to progressively darken. You watched it from the window of the cabin you had been in all day. It had been a long time since you spent all your time inside without much of anything to do. It was relaxing even if under unpleasant circumstances.

Yoongi had handed you a mug of something warm for your throat as you thanked him and took small, cautious sips due to its heat. Yoongi watched you as you watched outside, the occasional chuckles slipping past your lips when you saw birds or squirrels chase each other around.

“Y/n,” Yoongi called as Navia had taken his place back by the fireplace. He was, unsurprisingly, not fond of the cold so he had stuck to the fireplace like glue as often as he could. “Do you want to leave this cabin?”

His question caught you off guard. You lowered your mug to the table top as you looked at him.

“What?”

Yoongi’s mouth was pressed into a thin line as his eyes were narrowed in a veil of anxiousness. In truth he didn’t want you to live here anymore. What happened the night before could very well happen again and what if he didn’t get to you in time next time? What if next time they drag you off or even kill you? He couldn’t handle that. He didn’t even want to think about it.

“If I left,” you chuckled bitterly as you looked back outside, “where would I go? I can’t just live in a cave or in trees.”

“You could come back with me.” There was silence in the cabin’s front room. The sound of the fire crackling and the small sounds from outside your walls. “Come back with me to Dragon Country and live there.”

“That’s impossible,” you told him. “I am no dragon. How could I live there?” You half expected Navia from behind to slip into the conversation and throw in his opinion on the matter. You, a human leaving the Woodlands and running off to live in Dragon Country? There was no way, it was preposterous. “Why take me back anyways?”

“Dragon’s are only able to choose one being to become absolutely loyal to without fault in their lives. We live for years, decades, centuries. The oldest of dragon’s can live for hundreds of human lifetimes, so we are especially picky when it comes to our choice.”

“What does that have to do with me?” You asked.

“I said so before, I am your dragon.” That’s right. You did remember him saying that in his rage the night before. Something about being your personal dragon and threatening the men not to try another attack stunt again.

“So, then-”

“I chose you,” he admitted. You felt your air leave you in silent waves. “Out of all things I’ve met of my years alive, you were the first to treat me kindly without expecting anything in return. You were my first in many things that warmed my being. That is why I want you to come back with me.”

You opened your mouth then shut it again before you shook your head, trying to process his words. You took a shaky breath and looked back to him again.

“Say I agreed, isn’t it too dangerous? I mean, you might be with me, sure, but I’m still just a human woman. What could I possibly do so you wouldn’t have to protect me all the time? Wouldn’t I just be a constant risk?”

“That would not be the case,” he told you sternly. “I would see to it that every dragon be made aware of who you are. Once they know, they wouldn’t dare lay a talon on you unless they’re turncoats.” Yoongi sounded so serious, you almost believed him. “They would treat you better than these humans ever have,” he promised.

“How are you so sure?” You narrowed your eyes at him, challenging his word. He sure sounded high and mighty for proposing something that sounded so risky.

“Because I’m your dragon,” he repeated. You almost groaned and rolled your eyes. You felt like you were running in circles with him.

“What does that have to do with anything?” So what? You get to boss around and rely on a dragon. As legitimately remarkable as that is, you didn’t seem to connect that to your safety in his country.

“Because my Master in question- you- would be commanding the dragon in charge of Dragon Country.” There was a beat of silence.

What.

“So, you’re claiming to be what? The King of Dragon Country? Am I just supposed to believe that?”

“Yes, you are.” He told you with a straight face. There was no sign of lying or hesitation. He seemed so sure and serious of himself that you were questioning yourself of his truth.

“But that’s-”

“If I may,” Navia spoke, cutting you off from behind you as Yoongi shot him a glare for interrupting you. You turned to look at the white-eyed dragon as his tanned skin shone with the fire’s casted light. “It’s wise to know that the King detests liars and lies in general.”

Your eyes widened as you whipped your head back to Yoongi who was still shooting the other dragon a look before he returned his sights back to you.

“Oh my Gods, you’re serious.”

The night concluded a long, well-rounded talk about just who Yoongi really was. Finding out he was a king was one thing, but it was harder to understand that you were now in charge and in command of that king. You felt simultaneously all powerful and powerless.

In the end, you did agree to go back with him; however, under one condition.

-x-x-x-

You sat at your desk in your room, scribbling line after line of ink on a piece of parchment. It had been a week since your ‘unfortunate situation’ as you called it and you were healing well. You fixed your cabin the best you could and moving around like normal again was easier by the day. You could already almost chop firewood again- not that you actually were. You had no reason to stock up anymore.

On your bed was a bag. One that was large and had the flap open to show the contents inside. A few folded dresses and one of your leather corsets that wasn’t completely ruined. Jars and bottles of salves, potions, crushed herbs, flowers, and sacks of roots and leaves. Even your favorite cup and a knowledgeable book about medicine. All neatly packed.

You stretched as you leaned back in your chair and looked out the window to your room. You smiled as a bittersweet feeling fluttered in your stomach.

You looked down at the letter you had just finished as you folded it up and placed it inside of an envelope before writing the name of to whom it would be addressed on the front.

Your windows rattled with a gust of wind outside. You smiled as you got up from your desk and grabbed your bag. You tossed the flap of ti over the bag, the large button in the flap of it looping through a latch to close it securely. You threw the long strap over your shoulder as you grabbed the letter from your desk and opened your bedroom door.

You stopped, turning to look at the room once more. It was clean, bed made and everything neat and tidy. You smiled sadly at your space before you said goodbye to it. You felt silly saying farewell to a room.

When you walked into the main room, Yoongi had already let himself in. He smiled at you when he saw you. Just as you had asked him a week ago, he had left you alone for the last 7 days. That was your condition, even if he grumbled about it. You wanted one last week on your own in your lifelong home- that was all.

He walked to you and grabbed your arm gently before bending to softly push his lips against his cheek. You jolted as you covered your skin with your hand.

“What was that for?” You asked, flushed.

“Simply, because.”

“That is not an answer,” you scowled. “Did Navia come with you?” You asked peering around his back to look.

“Of course he didn’t. I don’t need an escort.”

“Of course you don’t,” you giggle. You walked around your cabin, running your fingers over the surface of your counters, your fireplace’s bricks, your dining table and around the window frames. You took everything into your memory even though this was the only home you ever had. Maybe that was why you felt like crying.

“Are you unwell?” Yoongi asked, coming up behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders. He could see how hard this was for you even without you looking at him directly. He knew this was his selfish wish, but if you really wanted to stay he wouldn’t drag you away.

“I feel like I'm homesick, but I haven’t even left yet,” you chuckle as your eyes stung. One of Yoongi’s hands moved to rest on your head as he pushed his cheek against the top of his hand to lean against your head.

“It will be alright,” he soothed.

“I know,” you chocked.

You spent a little while longer in your lifelong home before you felt like you were finally as ready as you’d ever be to leave. You feared if you stayed too much longer you’d root into your floorboard and then you’d never move again. As you walked out of the house, you took the key that hung on the inside of the door frame and took it out with you. You didn’t lock the cabin door, instead you placed the key on the outside doorknob.

This cabin would be welcoming to anyone who needed it, that was what the key hanging outside the space signified.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Yoongi asked for the umpteenth time, earning him an eye roll from you.

“Yes, now take me away or else I’ll start ugly crying.” He chuckled before he was walking with you out of the Woodlands and when you reached the edge of the lands, he transformed into his wyvern form. You climbed onto his neck just behind his head so you could clutch onto his horns (or his ears, whichever worked best with your grip) before he was flying off with you completely.

Leaving that cabin, the humans and one single letter on the dining table addressed to ‘Villagers’ behind for good.

-x-x-x-

“Father! Look, is this what you were talking about?” A small child cheered as he ran through the Woodlands and came across a small cabin that was covered in overgrowth. The wood had been overrun with vines and moss. Small tree saplings sprung from the wood above on the roof and weeds overtook the ground that was once all dirt. The trunk that had once been used to chop wood years and years ago had a sapling of a new tree ready to grow in the next hundred years.

Nests of birds, holes and burrows of moles and squirrels littered the area.

The child ran around the perimeter of the cabin, eyeing it up and down as small plumes of red smoke puffed through their nostrils in excitement.

“I’ve never seen a human house before!”

“Juilius, come back to me before you trip or get caught in a vine.”

The child trotted back to his father who had come to the Woodlands simply to show his son what the home of a human looked like. Although, times have changed and this is certainly not how humans lived anymore. This cabin was long forgotten to time and nature had long since reclaimed it.

The visit was short and sweet to a degree as the child was soon ushered to be ready to leave. “Your mother wants you home at a reasonable time. We can’t keep her waiting.”

“I’m coming,” the child cheered as he started leaving the Woodlands with his father’s hand in his own. “Will I get to fly part of the way back this time? I swear I can!”

“Alright, you can until we hit the first mountain peak; but don’t tell your mother.”

“I won’t!” He promised.

Landing peacefully in Dragon Country and arriving safely at the palace, the child giggled happily to himself on how well he was able to fly on his own and how his wings were getting stronger day by day.

“Yes, but you still can’t retract your scales yet, now can you?” His father teased. Juilius pouted as his brick red scales refused to fade in his human form.

“Well,” a voice called to them in a happy tone. “You look just like your father when you pout like that with your scales out.”

“Mother!” Juilius cheered as he ran to his mother’s arm, clinging to her as he was picked up and nuzzled into her neck. “Father took me to the Woodlands today. He said that there was a cabin in the woods where you used to live, so he let me see it!”

You blinked down at your blush-cheeked scaled child. “Oh did he? I hope he didn’t let you fly at that dangerous height.”

“Nope!” The child grinned as innocent as can be- keeping his promise to his father in the small little white lie.

“You always assume the worst of me. Don’t you, Scale?” Yoongi teased as he came to your side with your child on your chest as his legs kicked playfully on either side of your hips. He was young, only a decade old. He was still a hatchling when it came right down to dragon ages.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Mother, can you tell me about the humans?”

“You’re always so curious about them. Why do you want to know, Hatchling?”

“Well, you used to be one right? Father said you only got your scales and horns when you came here.”

“Well, then that is going to be a long story. It’s only right if your father helps tell part of it too. It is his fault I became a dragon in the first place,” you looked at Yoongi as he cleared his throat. “Isn’t that right, Your Majesty.”

“I really don’t know what you could be referring to,” he sheepishly retorted, looking away. As Juilius tried annoying the answer out of his father, he just shushed him. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“That’s not fair,” the child pouted.

“My Lady,” your attention was called from Navia who had finally tracked you down. His white eyes glowing down the halls like nighttime fireflies as he approached. “A new hatchling was born in the valley this morning and it’s mother asked if you would be gracious enough to name them.”

Your eyes shined. “I’d love to,” you said as you set Juilius down and kissed his forehead. You moved to kiss Yoongi’s cheek as you allowed Navia to escort you away. The dragon child took his father’s hand.

“So, what mother said about how she became a dragon; why do I need to wait until I grow up to know? Is it some kind of big dragon secret?” Yoongi’s face flushed as he cleared his throat again and was soon leading his son off somewhere else to clean up after his day out.

“I already told you, not until you’re older.”

Who knew that the exchanging of the blood and saliva of the king of dragons was able to gradually change humans into dragons? Yoongi certainly never knew until one morning you woke up with scales dusting your cheeks after a rather specific night.

To which would soon be the outcome of the pestering royal child, Juilius.

-END-

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iceeckos12 · 3 years

Text

time travel snippet

little time travel au oneshot. season 5 jon travels back in time to season 1. from the perspectives of tim, martin, and sasha. 3.5k.

i dont think i need to tag anything, but please let me know otherwise.

Tim wakes up that morning, and it’s just like any other day.

Well—no, okay, that’s a bit misleading. Today is his first day working as an archival assistant, so he’s one part nervous, one part that breathless, exhilarated feeling you only get when you’re about to do something unfamiliar that may or may not redefine your life for the foreseeable future. When he says “it’s just like any other day”, he means that he wakes up, and he’s a normal person doing normal people things like eating a healthy breakfast and going to work.

(So, no. In short, he doesn’t realize that today is the day when It happens, that big, life-changing event that you think will Never Happen To You.)

He gets out of bed, stumbles into the bathroom. Washes his face of whatever residue that’d built up during the night, tries to scrape away the evidence of his nightmares, smiles big and bright at the mirror to see how successful his efforts were. He’s betrayed by the traitorous bags beneath his eyes, but that’s okay. Sasha taught him how to wield concealer as a shield whenever his past wore down his armor.

He shoots twin finger guns into his reflection, making soft pew, pew! noises that are almost too-loud in the hush of the bathroom. Then he turns on his heel and walks away, sauntering and humming along with the chorus of Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5.

He gets to the Institute twenty minutes before he’s supposed to—not because he’s trying to impress his boss or whatever (he and Jon have known each other long enough that there’s no point). It’s just, Jon will probably want to make some sort of game-plan before the actual workday starts.

The poor man had been relieved to an almost comical degree when Tim had said yes, I’ll come with you to the Archives. It’s painfully obvious how out-of-his-depth Jon is with the whole “Head Archivist” thing. Tim’s honestly baffled as to why Elias had singled him out for the position in the first place, considering his lack of qualifications.

But, whatever. It’s fine! Tim and Sasha will be there to help him—although the third assistant is a bit of a problem, considering that they know absolutely nothing about him. There’s no guarantee that this Martin Blackwood won’t report inadequacies or mistakes back to Elias. If that’s the case, Tim and Sasha will have to be Jon’s safety net, which is partially why Tim is hoping to talk to Jon before anyone else gets there.

He also wants to talk to Jon because he just knows the man is probably working himself up over all of this. Maybe reassurances won’t do away with the source of anxiety entirely, but at least it’ll remind Jon that he’s not alone, and that he can count on Tim and Sasha.

As expected, when Tim gets there he can see a sliver of light pouring out from the cracked door of the Head Archivist’s office. He selects a desk and sets his bag on top of it, noting a set of strange gouges in the fake wood with a raised eyebrow, and then an internal shrug. The Institute issued laptop is near the far edge of his desk, and his collection of pictures are strategically placed so that he can see them all clearly.

His eyes linger over the image of him, his mother, and his brother. Their smiles are almost perfect replicas of each other, like someone took a mold of one of their faces and recreated it twice over.

Briefly, he closes his eyes. Then he shakes himself, releases a slow, steadying breath, and goes to check on Jon.

Tim’s not sure what he’s expecting to see when he goes into Jon’s office.

(That’s misleading too, though. He’s not sure if Jon will be visibly calm or upset, if he’ll be on his laptop, if he’ll be picking at the skin around his fingernails, as he so often does when he’s stressed. He is expecting Jon as he is and always has been—a twenty-some year old going on sixty, who wraps his gruff, grumpy demeanor about himself to protect the soft, vulnerable core he likes to pretend doesn’t exist.)

He comes up to the door, and the soft rectangle of light that emanates from beneath the door paints the tips of his shoes gold. “Jon?” he calls softly, rapping his knuckles against the frame. There’s a soft rustling noise—papers maybe? but no audible response, so he shrugs and pushes the door open. “I’m coming in.”

Tim steps inside, a quip instinctively readying itself on his tongue—but then his gaze lands on Jon, and he freezes dead in his tracks.

Even years later, he still vividly, viscerally remembers the moment he saw Danny standing on the stage underneath the Royal Opera House, the way he’d looked...not quite right. The wrongness had been subtle, so much so that it had been unnoticeable upon first glance, upon second glance. The longer Tim had looked though, the more obvious it had become, exposing all the little faults in that almost-perfect recreation of his brother.

Looking at Jon now, it’s the first and only thing he can think of. Because—yes, there’s the long, silver-streaked black hair, there’s the rich brown eyes, there’s the pair of spectacles that make him look far older than he actually is. But that’s where the similarities between the Jon he knows and this Jon end.

Jon’s always been a small man, but his feigned haughtiness makes him seem much bigger than he actually is. Except—except this Jon looks smaller somehow, his shoulders curved protectively inward, like he’s trying to present less of a target. And there’s something about his face, too—his expression is too sharp, too much—

But the worst of it is his eyes. There’s something very wrong with his eyes.

Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with Jon? He doesn’t say it out loud though, just keeps staring at Jon, a heady mix of terror and horror making any sort of reaction impossible.

After a moment Jon’s lips thin, contorted by some distant cousin of displeasure, and he rises to his feet. Tim stumbles instinctively backward, his breath escaping him in a sharp gasp that’s immediately swallowed up by the apathetic stacks of books and papers surrounding them. He’s struck by the fact that if he dies here, it’s unlikely anyone will notice; he’ll become just another set of marks gouged into the desk, willed away with an uneasy shrug.

Jon freezes, lips parting subtly, as though he were about to speak. Tim feels his breath catch in his chest, unable to shake himself out of the clouded stupor his mind has fallen into.

In the end, Jon says nothing. Just releases a long, slow breath of air and sits back down, pushing his chair close to his desk. The motion looks heavy, tired, as though it takes far more energy than it should.

“You—you should go,” Jon rasps, and there’s something off about his voice too, though Tim can’t put his finger on why. He can’t cobble together enough of a train of thought to make sense of any of this, all he can think of is that clown ripping Danny apart—

He stumbles out of Jon’s office, sits down at his desk. Stares down at the cheap, fake wood, at the gouges that have marred the otherwise pristine surface. Puts his head in his hands, and tries to will his heart to stop pounding in his chest.

-0-

Martin’s heard things about Jonathan Sims.

He’s not usually the type to pay attention or encourage gossip, as the vivid memories of his classmates tittering cruelly whenever he walked by still leaves a sour taste in his mouth.The problem with the Institute is that the employees get bored pretty easily. Though most would consider academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal to be fairly interesting, it’s still academic research. And the subject content can get to be a bit...repetitive. There’s only so many gruesome statements you can read without thinking, oh great, more meat.

So the employees gossip a lot, and while Martin usually tries to keep his head down and avoid it, it’s difficult not to overhear some things. And from what little he’s heard, he’s...a bit concerned. Rude and unsociable has frequently been mentioned, as have arrogant and unnecessarily finicky, and worst of all, a bit of a stuck-up know-it-all.

Normally he tries not to put too much stock in office gossip—he’s well aware that the grapevine tends to exaggerate one’s most undesirable traits—but if any of it is true, then he might just be in trouble. It was hard enough being a library employee when his boss wasn’t even paying attention most of the time. If Jon is as exacting as they say, it might be enough to expose the fact that Martin has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. And if that happens, then he might get fired, and he can’t get fired, he needs this job, he can barely keep up with his mum’s medical bills as it is—

Calm down, Martin tells himself firmly, pressing his hand against his sternum, as though that will be enough to quell the rising panic. It’s only your first day. Maybe he’s nice, and we’ll actually be good friends.

(With his luck? Yeah, right.)

The Institute looms in the distance, growing closer with every terrified, grudging footstep. A shiver runs up his spine at the sight of its imposing presence, a dark, ugly blot of a building against the backdrop of the iron grey clouds.

If there’s one thing he’s good at though, it’s keeping his head down and muddling through until he’s able to figure out what is actually expected of him. He can twist and fold himself into whatever role they need him to fill, as he has done so many times in the past. Not easily perhaps, but he has always managed. The alternative is untenable, after all.

So he takes a deep breath, and shoves his panic down as deep as possible. Lifts his head and forces a smile onto his face, like a good attitude will be enough to protect him from his boss’s wrath.

He could really do with a cup of tea.

Martin trudges down the stairs, giving the blank walls, the old-fashioned carpet, a dubious look as he does. The Archives themselves are as he remembers it—he’s been down here a couple of times when Gertrude made a request for something specific, but—

He pauses when he notices a man sitting at one of the desks, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders aren’t shaking and his breathing is even, so Martin doesn’t think that he’s crying? He’s just….sitting there, his stillness so perfect it’s almost inhuman.

“Hello?” Martin calls softly, cautiously, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet.

The man looks up, revealing a very handsome face and brown eyes so dark they may as well be black. His cheeks are dry but his eyes are bright and a little wild, and his mouth is pressed into a small, tight line. He doesn’t speak, just keeps watching, blinking dazedly in Martin’s direction. Martin gets the feeling that this person isn’t entirely there at the moment, like a house in which every room is lit, but there are no people inside.

He swallows and shifts nervously back and forth, trying to decide whether or not to call for some backup. Eventually he sets his bag on the floor and shuffles a bit closer. “Um—are you—is everything okay?”

The man blinks rapidly, some semblance of awareness creeping back into his gaze. He shakes his head slowly, pushes his short, gelled hair back from his head. His hands are trembling. “I’m...yeah, I’m fine. It’s—everything’s, it’s…”

But then his gaze lands on something over Martin’s shoulder, and all the color drains out of his face, his mouth shutting with a painful sounding click. Martin quickly spins around, searching for whatever could’ve scared him so much—

There’s someone standing in the doorway of Gertrude’s office.

There are so many things that one normally takes in upon first meeting another person: their hair, their skin color, all the little wrinkles and marks that give you the briefest insight into their life. Martin looks at posture first, tends to check if a person is intentionally looming, or if they’re making themself smaller.

But all Martin can see are the eyes.

There’s—two of them he thinks, but two is such an arbitrary number when the thing you’re applying it to doesn’t ascribe to human values (he’s not sure how he knows that—how does he know that—?). That horrible, terrible gaze is an unerring arrow, all-encompassing, all-consuming, piercing the deepest corners of his mind. It hurts in some distant, nebulous way he’s not even sure he comprehends—

Then he blinks, and the sheer terror, that feeling of the horrible, violating exposure of everything that he is, abruptly snuffs out. What’s left is just a person, wispy and small, his slight frame fairly drowning in a chunky, cable-knit jumper. He’s leaning against his doorframe, his eyes—two big brown ones, rich and unfathomably sad and more than that, human—drinking Martin in, his lips parted in a soundless gasp.

“Um—” Martin glances over his shoulder, and almost leaps out of his skin when a land falls heavily on his shoulder. The man who’d been sitting in the chair is standing just behind him, a strained but polite smile on his face.

“Hi Jon,” the man says, an undercurrent of a warning in his voice.

Martin glances between the two, his confusion growing with every passing moment. This is not what he was expecting when he first came into work today, and the uncertainty makes him feel strange and off-kilter.

The person in the door swallows once, twice, then straightens, one hand still gripping the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. When he speaks, his voice is soft, tentative, a little ragged around the edges. “Tim. It’s, um...it’s good to see you.”

“Martin Blackwood, was it?” Tim continues, injecting a bit of cheer into his voice. It takes Martin a moment to realize that he’s being addressed, and he shoots Jon—this is Jonathan Sims?—an uncertain look before nodding slowly. “We’re happy to have you on the team.”

“O-Oh?” Martin squeaks, then grits his teeth and bodily forces his voice back into its normal range. “I’m—um, I’m happy to be here?”

“Good,” Tim says through a grin that looks more like a grimace, giving Martin’s shoulder a friendly pat. The look he shoots Jon is a dark, mistrustful thing. The look Jon gives him back is fragile, vulnerable, that winds the tension in Tim’s shoulders so tight it has to be painful.

Jon’s gaze flickers to Martin, just for a second—and then he disappears into his office, leaving the door cracked behind him.

Tim and Martin stand there for a second, staring at the door. Tim’s still tense as a bowstring, and his grip on Martin’s shoulder is almost uncomfortable. The air in the Archives feels stuffy and too warm, and there’s a strange prickling sensation on the back of Martin’s neck, like he’s being subjected to close scrutiny.

Then Tim sighs and lets go of Martin’s shoulder, a little of the tension bleeding out of him, and without it he looks small, deflated. He goes back to his desk and sits down, booting up his laptop without a word of explanation to Martin.

Martin stares at the back of Tim’s head for a moment, a number of questions clamoring around in his brain—what the fuck was that? What’s wrong with Jon? Why are you so obviously suspicious of him?—but the words won’t come. Breaking the silence feels...sacrilegious, somehow. Every breath of air sticks against the back of his throat.

In the end, he doesn’t say anything either, just sits at his desk and takes out his Institute-issued laptop. Stares blankly at the screen as the machine slowly, laboriously, comes to life.

-0-

Sasha’s not entirely sure how to interpret the tense atmosphere that has descended over the Archives.

The first day she’d arrived a couple of minutes before she was supposed to, prepared to follow Jon’s direction and help him adjust as best she could. (Her feelings about Jon’s promotion...didn’t matter. She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t his fault that Elias was an old-fashioned misogynist.)

But when she’d come down the stairs, Tim and the assistant she didn’t know, Martin, had been seated quietly at their desks. They’d both had the same distant, shell-shocked look on their faces, like they’d received some shattering, horrible news. Sasha had sent Tim a confused look, but he either hadn’t noticed it, or hadn’t wanted to explain.

She hadn’t even seen Jon that first day, just received a polite email asking her to start organizing the statements according to the system which he’d devised.

It’s been almost three days, and nothing has changed. Oh sure, they’ve all started organizing the statements as directed. Tim cracks jokes, Martin tiptoes around them and makes copious amounts of tea. That strange tension that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, like the world is holding its breath in anticipation, hasn’t faded though. And while she doesn’t know Martin all that well, she knows that something’s still up with Tim. He seems more subdued than usual, keeps sending uncomfortable looks in the direction of Jon’s office—

—which hasn’t been open since that first day. She hasn’t seen Jon at all either, no matter how early she arrives or how late she stays. The only proof she has that he’s still alive is the polite email she periodically receives, detailing some specific task that he wants for them to do.

Even then, his emails are...odd. She’s not sure how she can tell, but they feel...awkward? Stilted? Like he’s only half-aware of what he’s typing, or like he’s only asking them to do things because he feels like he should, not because he has any actual goal in mind.

Normally she’d be frustrated by this, would complain bitterly to Tim about Elias passing over her for someone who obviously doesn’t properly appreciate the position they’ve been given—except that she knows Jon. He’d made a point to explain the situation to her himself, an apologetic twist tucked into the corner of his mouth. More than that, he’d asked her to follow him to the archives, saying that he wanted the two people he trusted most, her and Tim, to come with him.

He respects her too much not to take this job seriously.

The strangeness of the archives is only emphasized by Jon’s complete and utter lack of presence within it, but she doesn’t—she doesn’t buy that. She doesn’t believe that he’d just suddenly decide not to do the job he’d been so anxious to excel at.

More damning than anything is Tim’s complete, utter silence regarding Jon’s strange behavior, but whatever he knows about it, he isn’t saying anything. Martin is willing to talk, but he seems to be as lost as she is.

“I—that first day, Jon…” Martin shrugs, shooting a nervous glance toward the door leading to the archives. He’s been spending a lot of time hovering in the break room making tea, not that she can blame him. “He—I mean obviously I don’t know him very well, but he seemed...upset?”

“Upset,” Sasha repeats dubiously.

Martin lets out an exhausted sigh and turns away, waving a dismissive hand. “Look, I’m not entirely sure how to explain it. He just—okay, so, bear with me for a second, but he reminded me of this guy who used to live in my neighborhood.”

Sasha backs off, folding her arms and leaning against the counter. “Okay?”

“There was this little old couple that used to live in my neighborhood. They were—they were really sweet! The husband used to give candy to us younger kids. But um—sometimes you’d see him sitting in the rocking chair on his porch, and it was like...he wasn’t entirely there? Like, he’d just sit there for hours, rocking and staring at nothing. That’s—that’s what Jon’s expression reminded me of.”

Martin gets more animated the more he talks, Sasha notes; his hands move in broad, sweeping gestures, his expression twisting into an expression of extreme concentration. The moment he finishes he deflates again, tucking his hands into his armpits self-consciously, a hedgehog curling protectively in on itself.

“So, yeah,” he finishes eloquently.

“Huh,” Sasha says thoughtfully.

She gets back to her desk. Looks over at Tim, who’s studiously working through a box of statements, his mouth set in a neutral, concentrated frown. Takes a deep breath, letting the taste of dust and old papers sit heavy on her tongue.

Then she opens her laptop and starts looking through the catalog of cursed items that are currently being held in Artifact Storage.

(She doesn’t think that she’ll find anything, but—but just in case.)

-0-

They all get the call the next Monday morning: Elias Bouchard was found dead in his office.

#tma #iceeckos12 writes #my writing #just a little time travel au #probably wont continue this but i thought it was kinda fun

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chronicalchaos · 3 years

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Do you have any information on the re village au/crossover thing? I like the idea and would like to hear more if you have anything on it and you don't have to answer, this was something I had to ask before I forgot it.

Yes, i have informations on the Wick/RE Village crossover!

Sam, Travis and Duncan are the main characters, each have their own habilities that will help them survive on the village. Well, Sam and Duncan will be the ones who will try to survive for...about half of their journey through the supposed story

Sam's hability is that he's fast, on both physical and mental, he's the one running around and keeping the "lords" busy, as Duncan needs cover so both can escape alive, he can solve puzzles, but takes twice the time to even understand them

Duncan's hability is that he can solve puzzles quickly and create good strategies, he's the one solving the puzzles that helps them escape, he doesn't have trouble running, but he can't think straight when in fear/panic

Travis "hability" is that he's really lucky, he finds hiding spots with pure luck, he doesn't have much stamina

Sam's "Friends" die at the start of the story, i dont really want to include them

About the "lords", the Weaver kids will be more physically similar to their alive selves and won't be killed by the trio, as they join side with them later in the story, I'll explain them in the order i imagined they would be "faced"

Lillian is the same age as the trio, she will hunt them through the Weaver's house, where Sam and Duncan will escape from, her area, being the first the player(s) would be hunted at, it's very simple! A two-story house where you would meet the lords for the first time. Her strategy is using her power (I kept the mold thing) to, from time to time, talk through the main characters' head trying to startle them and using that to find them, your way to avoid her is simply hiding and being ready for this "little talks" she does through your mind.

Caleb is 19 years old, he will hunt them through the little forest inside the Weaver's property. Now, Caleb would be a bit hard, since his mutation increased his speed and he is already fast without the mutation, he would simply run after you, having the advantage that he knows that forest better than you do, but avoiding him is rather simple...if you are at least a bit agile, as Caleb takes a bit too much time climbing over walls or will just trip on a exposed root, so going through a bit rougher path will slow him considerably.

Now, Benny...I thought of putting him in the church, but...i think it would be better if they find him in the village itself, maybe make him an ally from the start, kinda like you did on the little wick AU, since he is the one trying to keep this family together, he's the one stopping Lillian's and Caleb's fights, making sure they get in good terms, he's also the one taking care of Tim, reminding his brother he can trust him and if he needs any help he's there...I'm not really sure on what Benny would do on the first half of the story.

Tim is 23 years old, he will hunt the trio on a graveyard, he's area is divide in 2 parts, the first one, he's not really agressive, he would even have a small talk with Duncan and Sam at the start, something they would discover later, Tim acts as if he's superior to the others, calling the duo "things" at the first encounter with the lords, but he's actually the weakest between his siblings as he didnt get a mutation, he's just a normal human. On the second part, he would be the normal Tim we know, agressive and determined. Instead of a whittling knife he carries a shovel around.

Tom would be 23 years old, he doesn't have an area of his own, he would appear on the second part of the graveyard, he chases the trio by turning into crows and appearing infront of them as they run from Tim, this is a replacement for his teleportation on the game and inspired by the dimitrescu daughters&Mother Miranda, he died from polio when him and Tim were 8 years old, he doesn't look mangled, but his "kid form", aka the age he died as, it's kinda scary in my opinion.

I didn't really work on James and Mary yet, but they would take Mother Miranda's place, being the master minds on the death of the village people, one thing i did stablish was that their goal isn't revive a dead child, they don't want to die, as they have met death in person...Tom is death.

And John died as well, just like he did in the game.

For now that's it, also, sorry that this is long.

#wick hellbent games #tim weaver #wick #wick (2015)#wick au #tom weaver #wick game #duncan #lillian weaver #caleb weaver #benny weaver #mary weaver #travis burton #wick sam

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

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I dont know if I'm the only person who does this, whenever I have a fic or a headcanon I always have very small details about things that dont make it in just cause of how obscure they are, I was wondering if you had any of these for Steve with an ED? I know you cover most of it in your ballet au (I dont know how to spell the name-) But do u have any other thoughts on it?:)

I’m gonna put it under the little cut bc it got super long and it’s just a lot about eating disorders

So, I’ll do one for La Sylphide, and another just like, headcanons abt Steve with an ED

So, for La Sylphide, I actually have a deleted scene from Christmas break where Billy and Steve run into Tommy and he starts saying shit to and about Steve and getting really mean and aggressive, I mentioned Steve being bullied in high school and I wanted to bring this in and have that trigger Steve purging. Billy was gonna fight Tommy.

In that story, a lot of Steve’s dysmorphia and dysphoria go hand in hand. Because they’re gender non conforming and later come out as nonbinary, they have trouble identifying their dysphoria. They don’t have the vocabulary for it and it translates into this desire to do anything to be perfect. I mention in the fic that they take it to extremes because they are so lost in what “perfect” would be for them, they rely on the idea of the perfect ballerina.

Growing up in ballet, I knew a lot of people with eating disorders. Like, I had three really close dance friends all growing up, two of them struggled with an ED. I have one that I refuse to admit pls don’t look at me so this was based on that. Most professional ballerinas tend not to suffer from this, because they work out so much, and usually, they are just lucky genetically, but lemme tell ya, ballerinas going through puberty? Developing hips and cellulite and breasts? That can throw everything for a loop.

I think that when Steve reached this junction, going from growth spurt lankiness to developing muscle, broadening out, thickening up, that’s when the body issues began. They were finding a more adult body, one that is naturally thicker, but also they were finding a more “masculine” body and that was a real issue for them that they didn’t realize until they further understood their gender identity.

I think the eating disorder set in with the bullying, as well as the neglect and general abuse from their parents. They aren’t getting love, and they can’t figure out why, and since they already have an issue with their own body and weight, they decide that must be the issue.

In the fic, I kinda pictured them just eating enough to not pass out during a rigorous class, and then purging after class. But their bulimia is also super reactionary. Whenever something bad happens, typically with their parents, or with the whole Alex situation, their first instinct is to purge. This is linked to where it all came from, they are trying to figure out why they’re not getting the love they so desperately want.

There’s also such a vision in ballet of the perfect body, that when you don’t fit that, it can be detrimental. Steve saw themself as not fitting that mold, but knew that ballet was it for them, that’s all they ever wanted to do, and would do anything to get it. It all kinda blend together.

Now for regular Steve ED headcanons:

I have something halfway written, don’t know if I’ll finish it tbh, about Steve finding diet pills in his mom’s vanity. It kind of focuses on him slowly going through different forms of EDs, and it all centers around his mother calling him beautiful and saying “all we have is our looks”, kinda projecting onto him bc a lot of moms do that :/ and people in his life telling him stuff like “well, you’re lucky you’re pretty” so he has it ingrained in him that he’s a pretty face and that’s it, so he begins to hyper analyze his body, and the more he thinks about it, the more he spirals.

It goes into him talking about his body, and how beautiful he thinks it is, like he’s reached his final form, and he's like, emaciated. He talks about how elegant his collarbone looks sticking out, like that kinda thing. So it derives from this high society, from this everything is perfect, and I’m perfect, and my life is perfect aren’t I wonderful, as well as the pressure around him to be The Best, to be King Steve, to be this shining model of everything one should want, and his dad putting high expectations on him and then, losing his shit when Steve doesn’t reach them.

In either scenario, it comes from his parents, this one it’s just mostly his mother projecting her issues onto him until he collapses under them.

Here’s a snippet of the ficlet:

Billy wouldn’t understand. “Why are you doing this?”

Because of a mother that always said our looks are all we have and Steven, must you eat like such a piglet? and a father that would say if you were a girl I’d tell you to marry well and people respect you if you’ve got money and looks. Don’t be an idiot and lose them.

“It’s what I want.”

“It’s killing you.”

#tw eating disorder #yikes headcanons #la sylphide #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #tw eating disorders

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pettrichore · 4 years

Text

dunno if i’ll be able to finish this. but so like dabihawks au where like. dabi does his research aka when he was touya he was with his dad once during the whole takami thief thing and met keigo. flash forward he doesnt believe a thing about this hero hawks. sees him for the fabricated person he has become. and eventually hawks sees dabi for who he really is and was and like vigilante-ish dabihawks. bits about the au and the snippet i wrote under the cut.

cause this shit gets LONG af

hawks feels fake. doesnt rlly know who he has even become

the commission kinda forced a lotta habits out of him and completely molded him into who they want him to be

he barely even finds his name to be anything more than a stranger’s name at this point.

anyway so dabi p much knows who he is. does his own digging. and kinda puts some pieces together and sees how fake hawks is

hawks barely even knows if he shows any genuine emotions at this point. he’s kinda at a breaking point where he cant recognize himself and separate keigo from hawks. feeling like hawks has just swallowed him whole

he does show genuine things though. sometimes says or does shit out of line but he tends to have obedience beat into him even if he sometimes has a bit of a mouth on him. it’s mild tho

at the start of dabi working w hawks, hawks was very careful

it kinda progressed into keigo coming out more around dabi even though it was in bits and pieces

anyway dabi puts two and two together and realizes him and hawks are pretty similar and instead of seeing him as a traitor (though he’s sure that he’s not 100% on their side) he sees him as someone who can fit in with the misfits and he can p much fully convince hawks to ditch the bs

so the confrontation happens (see ending snippet) and hawks is like wtf just happened

and p much eventually there’s some tender moments between dabi and hawks and hawks ends up explaining how used he’s felt

he has been molded into the perfect obedient soldier; maybe sorta kinda explains that the commission is having him do double agent duties and instead of reacting badly dabi is p receptive and doesnt just try to kill him. instead he can see how badly hawks wants to break out of his cage and fly free and he deeply feels for that and knows how that can feel and is like aight well fuck them

so hawks kinda double agents on the commission??

and he does end up meeting the LoV and like sees how human they are

but also he’s like damn son but okay i dont agree w everything

and dabi is like yeahhh same ??? idk they are a means to an ends for me but also not lmao

and then there’s some dabi spilling his guts as they get closer and get more intimate and very much boyfriends

and hawks is so livid and he cant help but fuck around with endeavor the next time he sees him. and like he’s just so much more distant to him. he can’t begin to wrap his head around it. and he’s so broken that like.. the one person that he saw as his true hero. that “saved him” is a horrible person behind closed doors

the one person who he was inspired by and agreed to join the commission’s forces for is just horrible

there’s just a lotta solidarity between hawks and dabi and a lotta shared anger and hurt

and they’re boyfriends and it’s great but also like hawks isn’t a horrible person

neither is dabi ??? i mean listen they’ve both killed ppl. they probs will continue to kinda do it. but it’s always just horrible ppl

like listen killing ?? not great folks??? but also like idk man..

they also def leave kids outta this 10000%

anyway p much they end up ditching the LoV too. try to get some of them outta that shit. like toga who has become like a sorta lil sister for dabi in a way

they both just feel so horrible and gross seeing kids get into that shit

also like the girl needs some HELP. some therapy and rehabilitation idk

idk i love the morality shit with the LoV but might not play with it too much here

anyway they end up doing their own thing and the commission is quick to denounce him and just ruin his image

and try to kill him lmao they made him a perfect hero which could be a perfect villain and if he isn’t working for them he’s working against them (i mean he is) and needs to be Stopped Permanently

anyway here’s the snippet. my single brain cell that helped write this has left my body:

At this point, Hawks wasn’t so sure he was even real. His existence felt fabricated. Each smile or joke carefully placed. Each movement was calculated. He didn’t act out of line. His interviews were carefully thought out months in advance if not lies that he himself began to believe after years of telling them. His penthouse had just enough “personal” touches that when he had a spare moment to invite someone over it actually seemed like it could be a home. Hawks’ original motivations were squashed and were pushed aside unless they created an interesting story. His natural mannerisms that came with his mutation quirk were learned to be suppressed. Hell his own name sounded like a stranger’s to his ears. That is if anyone even knew it.

“Is there anything real about you, hero,” Dabi spoke. His back wasn’t fully to Hawks, left side presented to him as he set a framed graduation photo down and fully faced the winged hero. Dabi stuffed his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to the side some, waiting for an answer. Hawks snorted and gave him an unamused look.

“I’m as real as they get, hot stuff.” He kept a casual air about his words, hands spreading out in surrender. “Not sure what else you expect.”

Hawks was on edge, but he wouldn’t let the villain know it. They were supposed to be meeting soon, but once again the villain pulled something unexpected and had been waiting for Hawks in his own apartment. Hawks’ feathers twitched slightly, sharpened edges ready for the command if it came. Dabi leveled him with an unimpressed stare. There was a moment where their gazes met in an intense battle, though Dabi’s look softened as he broke out in a lazy grin.

“Y’know... You might be just as much of a mystery as I am, Pretty Bird.”

“I think I’m a pretty open book myself.”

“I think you like to let people think that.”

“And I think you’re just trying to fuck with me. Can we just get to what you came here for? I had a looong day and kinda wanna get some food and some sleep.” Hawks punctuated his words by stretching his arms up high before shedding off his coat, goggles, and headphones. He tossed the coat over the back of his couch and dropped the gear onto the end table. He hoped Dabi would just drop this whole line of thought, take this as some sort of submission, and be satisfied enough to leave.

Wrong.

“Oh, we can get to that later… You, on the other hand, are much more interesting.” He moved closer, hands coming out of his pockets as he crossed the room to stand a few feet from Hawks.

“I’d love to be a great host and entertain you, but unfortunately I wasn’t expecting any guests today.” Hawks crossed his arms and watched Dabi carefully, eyes narrowing some in challenge.

“That’s too bad. You know, I’ve been doing some research on you. I don’t quite think you are who you say you are, Hawks.” The winged-hero tensed just ever so slightly before forcing his muscles to relax some. He didn’t like the way things were going. While Dabi’s fire was his ultimate weakness, he’s sure that he’s fast enough to put a sharpened feather to his throat and end this all here and now than Dabi would be if he wanted to put the spy to an end.

“And who do you think I am then, Dabi?” He raised an unruly eyebrow. His primaries ached to shoot out and end this, poised at the ready.

Dabi blinked slowly, bright turquoise eyes disappearing for a moment before shining under heavily lidded eyes. His grin stretched a bit wider, tugging on where healthy skin met the grafts.

“I think you aren’t the hero you put out there… Or the person you say you are. You like to say a lotta nothin’ don’t you?” Dabi stepped closer and Hawks’ fingers twitched but his arms remained crossed.

“I think you like to pretend to be this airhead bird. Like to use that name. Like to look like you’re the perfect little hero... You’re good at it, too. You aren’t though, are you… Takami Keigo.”

Hawks had a primary feather in each hand, on pressed to Dabi’s throat. It pressed in just enough to draw some blood from the marred skin grafts. He could feel the heat radiating from Dabi’s skin and particularly from the small flames in each of his palms, but the villain made no move to use it against him. He just continued to grin.

“What’s the look of surprise there, Birdie?” Dabi purred.

“How do you know that name?” He demanded, crowding further into Dabi’s space.

“Like I said, I did my research. Now unless you want to end up on the crispy side of cooked, I’d ease the fuck up,” Dabi’s voice took on a slight bite towards the end and his grin lessened. “And here I was going to tell you that you can meet the boss finally. Thought you might be real League material.”

Hawks instincts and mind screamed to press the sharp feather further or at least hold his position, demand answers. His judgment told him to ease off and soften the feathers once more. Hawks didn’t move too far from Dabi, though the primary feathers in his hands softened and returned to his wings. The heat radiating off Dabi died down along with the flames in his hands. Steam left his skin as he killed the flames.

“Much better… We don’t want any incidents like that when you get to meet the boss, right? You’re lucky I’m a lot more patient.” Hawks wasn’t sure what this was all about but didn’t argue with him on that point.

“Glad to see your fake little hero persona is starting to crack.”

#long post #dabihawks #dabi #hawks #todoroki touya #takami keigo #dabi is a todoroki #dabi is touya #my writing #speaks #bnha au #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia

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warmau · 5 years

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commission: medical school!au ren other nuest x medical school!aus: jonghyun | minhyun

specialty: ren is doing his residency in medical toxicology

got nicknamed the living “expectations versus reality” meme

because most of the new residents have this exception when they see ren:

unapproachable, handsome, diligent doctor who takes everything seriously and would be the heart throbbing protective type

when in reality he’s a goofball

and a weird goofball at that

like jonghyun will come down to his floor looking to hand samples over and ren will press up against the glass of the lab

making funny faces and mocking jonghyun by not opening up the lab safety door

and some other poor resident will walk by and be like ,,,,, huh??!?!

and jonghyun will just sigh and be like this is what i’ve dealt with for like four years now

has a zoning out quirk

literally can stare at his microscope for like three minutes without blinking

and then just be like

oh! right! i gotta look at these blood cells!

gets way to passionate about toxins and mutations and really just anything that’s funky in medical science

pulls a tiny chemical table out of his wallet that he’s had since high school and will be like “if these two interact and you consume them you will literally DIE but it’ll be like slow and painful and let me describe it to you in detail -”

minhyun, crying: please stop i dont want to know

aron sipping on his hospital cafeteria orange juice: do tell more

goes ham during the hospital’s halloween celebrations - put a whole wig on and the professors were like ......... speechless

but no one actually asked him to take it off

actually someone started a twitter thread about the ‘hauntingly handsome long haired doctor’ and it went viral

and when jonghyun showed it to ren

he just shrugged and was like

“it’s what i deserve”

jonghyun: “the amount of confidence you have is ,,,,,, wild ,,, mildly irritating ,,,,,,, but well deserved”

ren: uwu

but no jonghyun and ren’s friendship is actually very sweet no matter how much ren can press his nerves

jonghyun always finds him on the three seconds of free time they have to make sure he’s eating and sleeping

because residency is tough, especially in such a small field like toxicology

where there are only a couple of other students specializing in it

but they have to do work for a whole hospital

ren getting all cutely sleepy while working in the lab, so he starts humming the tune to some popular idol song and dancing around

and the other residents are like plEASE be careful you are holding LITERAL toxic waste in that beaker

and ren is like can’t hear you over the sound of seventeen’s adore u

got casted on his way to the hospital

he had just got a double shot of espresso because wooo 14 hours in the hospital lab coming up

and was just trying to get in on time (because let’s be real,,,,he’s quite fashionably late most of the time)

when someone chased him down the street just to be like

“are you interested in joining the entertainment industry?”

and ren had blinked and been like

“.,,,,,,like ,,,,, an actor?”

and they were like yes or an idol or model

and ren had laughed so hard he spilled some of that espresso because he thought they HAD to be scamming him

(they weren’t)

joked about it with other residents like LOL can you believe i would never fall for it

but all the residents and even the professors had to agree that like ,,,, ren,,,,, you look the part,,,,, maybe it was legit

ren: well too bad im in med school debt now so i dont need anymore on my back

you’re a new resident, a fresh face that’s doing your best in the dentistry department

you are absolutely unprepared for the amount of stress that comes with starting a residency

it’s not that you’re lacking a work ethic or anything - you’re just ,,,, shocked by the fact that your personal time has dropped to zero

you live in the hospital

and as helpful as professors try to be - any small mistake is treated harshly

and older students are way too busy with their own problems to help you with any of yours

at first you just try to keep positive, telling yourself over and over that everyone else is struggling too - and you just have to powerhouse through it

but then you look around and it honestly seems like ,,,,, no one is having a hard time except you

it’s ostracizing, and you hate to admit that on several occasions you’ve found yourself crying in the lab after most other residents have gone

making crown molds and trying to hold back tears isn’t ,,,, how you thought you’d spend time in med school

but it is how you end up meeting ren

one of your biggest mistakes is mixing up the toxicology lab with the dentistry lab

because they’re on the same floor and both have nearly identical room numbers

so when you’d first started out you’d end up walking into the middle of the lab

while everyone is wearing literal hazmat suits and you’d be like

this is definitely NOT where i should be

sometimes the other students would give you nasty looks, sometimes they’d just ignore you

but there was always open person who found it hilarious

ren’s laugh echoing through the lab everytime

he gets into this habit too - when he sees you in the halls of the hospital or in the canteen

he plops his hand down on your shoulder and goes

“this isn’t the dentistry lab”

he’s older and has been a resident for longer so you really can’t say anything back

even though it embarrasses you beyond belief

but at the same time you know he isn’t being ,,,, meanspirited or anything it’s just,,,,

you know you’re being silly and making mistakes mayBE if he didn’t amplify it to the entire hospiTAL that would be better

“you’re so lucky though!!”

some of the other students whine, saying that they could only wish to have some sort of interaction with ren

whose supposedly studious and serious about his work

the picture perfect doctor, handsome and smart

but when he doubles over in giggles at your shocked face outside of the wrong lab again

you get a completely different read on him

anyway - you and ren don’t cross paths all that much

dentistry is far from medical toxicology and so it’s only on rare occurrences that you really have to deal with his playful teasing

until one night you find yourself alone in the dentistry lab

you’re not really working on anything - you’re supposed to be but the week has been overly stressful

you’ve had at most five hours of sleep combined over the span of the last couple of days

and you recently lost your phone in one of the wards so contacting your parents or best friend to vent wasn’t an option

you take off your white lab coat, crouching down behind one of the tables as you tuck your head into your hands

it’s past three in the morning, the hospital is still working but it’s the ER for the most part and most residents aren’t getting here till later

you have this silent moment to yourself

where everything sort of just hits you

and you can’t help but feel the tears well up in the corners of your eyes

don’t be pathetic, everyone is going through this with you

you try to tell yourself but those words don’t bring much comfort - they just make it hurt more

“oh - is this the wrong lab?”

you suddenly look up, nervous that one of your fellow residents - or even worse - a professor has found you

but in the dim light coming in from the hall you see the outline of someone in their doctors coat

but when your eyes adjust you see that it’s ren

“w-what do you mean, this is the dent-”

he sort of scans your face and you can tell he’s taking in the fact that you’ve been crying

it makes you feel small and you quickly wipe at your face and try to think of something to ease the sudden awkward tension

“i - i was just getting all tired and started to-”

you want to excuse

but ren tilts his head, hands stuffed in his coat pockets

“im going to be honest, im not very good at handling people when they’re crying - but if it’s ok with you ill try.”

you blink, sort of speechless

“i - um, ok?”

ren gives you a little nod and then brings his hand up to tap his chin

“i can do an impression of professor kim to make you laugh?”

it’s bewildering - but you think ren is actually ,,,,, serious

like he’s actually trying to cheer you up

you give a tiny nod and he makes a bad replica of the professors gruff voice

but just his facial expressions and the sheer absurdness of that voice coming from that pretty of a face

makes you sort of hiccup into a giggle

pleased to see some positive reaction, ren does another impression of one of the nurses downstairs and then the security guard everyone knows from the pediatrics ward

you laugh so much, you realize the tears are coming back but this time because he’s being so silly

and you don’t notice how the ends of his lips twitch into a relieved smile when you tell him to stop it already

“i don’t know why you were upset - but im happy to see you smiling again.”

he says and you kind of shyly thank him for lifting your mood

when he puts his hand out and motions for you to take it

you sort of stare and feel the skin on your cheeks flare up

“come with me, ill treat you in the cafeteria. the auntie there always put aside the best desserts for me and you can have them this time.”

you shift, not sure what to do

but ren just motions again

“this is a one time offer - it’ll expire in three, two, o-”

you put your hand in his, nervously at first - but then ren squeezes it and pulls you to walk behind him

you guys get a couple of stares from the night shift people, but no one really notices or cares

you end up having ren buy you way more sweets than you can finish

and then having to run off halfway through because someone says they need him upstairs

but before he goes he gives your hair a bit of a ruffle

“it’s hard, but i like you - so don’t be sad. and if you want to be sad, find me and ill make it better.”

the words make something bloom in your chest - a sort of warmth you haven’t felt in a long time

and when you bump into jonghyun a couple of days later he asks how you and ren’s first date went

you shake your head, explaining in fumbled words that it wasn’t anything like that

but then you feel an arm wrap around you and look up to see ren’s smiling side profile

“it was a fun date, but ill take them on a better one next time.”

dating med student!ren is a roller coaster. im not kidding. you had knew there was more under his model like exterior, but you didn’t know he was THIS goofy and THIS weird until you start dating - but it’s totally fine because you find yourself loving it. you love the funny faces he makes as he passes you in the halls, the way he can jump from being totally uninterested in something to suddenly sparking up with excitement and clinging onto your hand as he begs you to tell him more. you like that he’ll break out into little dances right after you agree to kiss him in the storage room or how he’ll give you new nickname everytime he sees you (this ranges from ‘my sweet sugarplum fairy’ to ‘fellow human who i enjoy locking lips with’). jonghyun on several occasions has had to pull you aside and ask if you want him to,,,,,ask ren to control himself better in the hospital and you’re just like he’s fine! but then during a lecture one of the professors had even went to say “feel free to use the lab when your resident hours are done - but NOT for anything except dentistry, you know who im talking to” (you and ren once got caught kinda,,,,,you know ,,,, being close in the lab - everyone turned to look at you and you were just like hmm i have no clue). it amazes you just how knowledgeable ren is though, how he can be all sleepy cuddling into your arms when you get the small chance to be alone together in his apartment and you’ll think he’s about to knock out with his head on your chest but then he’ll be like “wait - did i tell you about this strain of modified dna i looked at yesterday which was infected with a virus from south africa?” and you’re like wh- weren’t you just asleep. he shares his apartment with baekho, who is another resident and everytime you leave ren’s room in the morning to get some coffee or something baekho does this thing where he lets out a whistle and goes “REN MY MAN WOOO” and you’re like STOP and ren from his room goes “I KNOOOOOW”. handsome, serious, and extremely polite prince ren? yeah no try handsome, mischievous and extremely affectionate puppy ren. during one of the holiday parties thrown by all the residents of the dentistry department, ren showed up a couple of minutes late and still in his scrubs and you were like “babe?” and he was like “listen you look gorgeous, no one beats you, when i have a minute - i will peel those cloths right-” “REN” “right right i have to do an emergency lab test so i can’t stay but please kiss me and ill go” you do it but you also whisper that he could have just texted you and he’s like but then i’d miss this stunning view (of you in the fancy outfit) and you’re like no ill just show you back home and he’s like WHEW now don’t get me excited before i have to handle toxic chemicals! your boyfriends going to be a doctor but before he’s a doctor he’s a dork. muses about taking you out on dates when he FINALLY graduates and you’re like noooo you’re going to work so hard even after and he’s like yes but im also going to splurge on you and make up for all the time med school drained out of us. oh you know he’s a cuddle monster - you know he’d just backhug you and give you kisses behind the ear and just want to touch you every second of everyday but it’s a hospital so he cant and he’s always like :( because of it. three hundred texts from him like ‘when are you free? do you have five minute break? can i pleaaaaase have a hug’ and then like you’ll get a selfie of him edited with hearts to be like ‘how can you resist me - the handsomest man and your boyfriend COME GET THIS KISS’. he might be weird and wacky, but he’s caring and deep down he really is that protective princely boyfriend - like literally almost threw acid in some guys face when they had the audacity to make a comment about you - his significant other - right in front of his face. loves when you play with his hair before kissing him, but even more he loves when you try to act like you don’t want his kisses so you keep scrunching up your nose and he’s like pursing his lips like cmon pleaaaaase and you finally give in and he gets all giddy. you and jonghyun bond over try to make sure ren doesn’t get himself hurt because he would totally be the guy who’d think propelling himself down the hall on an IV stand is fun. ren knows you struggle with the workload sometimes and he might not pull out the impressions and funny faces, because now he knows how to comfort you even better - keep you close to his chest, let you know how much you’ve already accomplished, and also - get you downstairs to the cafeteria where the aunt pulls out those desserts she hordes for you two and you get to share them in the hospital garden (and share kisses too). oh also you end up coming by the toxicology lab more often - not because you mistake it anymore, you’re past that - but because when you do ren (if he can) will drop what he’s doing and rush over and it’s so funny and endearing to see him have to take off his ten protective layers just to come out and give you a peck on the nose ,,,,, like boy is in love with you beyond belief - and you’re in love with him too.

#nuest scenario #nuest imagines #nuest au #ren scenarios #ren imagines #ren au #minki scenarios #minki imagines #minki au #nu'est scenarios #nu'est imagines #ren #choi minki #college!au #med school!au #nu'est #sfw #writing commissions #this was so fun to write because i got to rewatch his videos from produce hes such a dork

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donttellthemangosiwashere · 5 years

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Sanders Sides RPG AU

Ok so hear me out

new au, Dungeons and Dragons / Savage Worlds / generalized RPG, work in progress, definitely gonna draw for it so dont worry about that

hoping to make it into an ask blog if there’s interest, or if there isnt, because I still like it lol

definitely a lot still mold-able here, if you have some ideas or additions or head cannons to add, please pile them on! :D

LOGAN - (moon elf) Half-elf, Lore Bard (wizard was too obvious) - inspires through teaching moments, inspirational speaking, encouragement, and maybe a rap or poem on a special day - despises the stereotype that all bards sing and dance - raised by the elven parent, this + longer lifespan = detachment from emotion - Wisdom and Intelligence high, Charisma and Strength mid, Dexterity and Constitution low - Lawful Neutral (doesn't bother himself much with arbitrary rules of morality but definitely isn't evil) - Weaknesses: bad at emotions, tends to over-speak, short fuse

PATTON - Stout Halfling, Open Hand Monk - loves good food and companionship - focus on the wellness of the body and purity of the heart and soul - calls himself a ‘way of the open arms’ monk (hugs!) - Dexterity and Wisdom high, Charisma and Constitution mid, Intelligence and Strength low - Lawful Good (lying bad, stealing bad, killing bad) - Weaknesses: a bit judge-y and strict(practically raised by a bunch of old monks and a therapist, he cant help it), quick to trust, fear of spiders

ROMAN - Protector Aasimar, Oath of the Crown Paladin (bard was too obvious) - son of Sune, goddess of beauty and passion and the color red, who really just lets him do his own thing cause she's about as close to 'drunk/cool mom but to the point of negligence' that you can get while still being loved by ur son - so, stick with me here, paladins get their powers from their belief in what they swore their oath to, right? - ideas are EITHER boy is a prince literally/emotionally and swore an oath to himself like a g OR he swore an oath to his king, thomas - either is wholesome and good - Charisma and Strength high, Dexterity and Wisdom mid, Constitution and Intelligence low - Chaotic Good (will break the rules to do what he knows is right, happens to do so frequently) - Weaknesses: super-inflated ego, insecurity issues, v strong but not actually very hardy

VIRGIL - Drow, Wild Magic Sorcerer - during an event he doesn't remember well, while travelling with his old party, they came across Some Shit® that sorta fucked them all up - he went into the experience without magic and came out of it with magic he couldn't control and some pretty bad nerves about some impending doom something something he doesnt remember - left his old party cause he didn't want to hurt them, found three new guys after a while - Strength and Constitution high, Intelligence and Dexterity mid, Wisdom and Charisma low - Lawful Neutral (follows his own code of rules, not necessarily the laws of the land) - Weaknesses: has some trust issues, Some Shit®-related/induced nightmares keeping him from sleeping good, can't control his powers and lost confidence in his previous skills (range-based fighter)

DECEIT - Yuan-ti Pureblood (I mean, clearly), Warlock (either great old one or demonic, still deciding on that) - one one of them who remembers the Some Shit®, came out of it with a deal, knowledge he can't safely share, and some new powers - seems to want the best for everyone, but harbors so many secrets... can he be trusted? - Charisma and Intelligence high, Dexterity and Wisdom mid, Strength and Constitution low - True Neutral (driven purely by self preservation and personal goals, not 'good' but def not evil) - Weaknesses: compulsive liar, short patience, the awareness of impending doom

REMUS - Fallen Aasimar, Wild Soul Barbarian - son of Sune, goddess of beauty and passion, brother of Roman. Mom hardly talks to either of them if at all, but they're pretty sure Roman is the favorite. Remus doesn't appreciate that her views of beauty are so restricted to traditionally attractive things, and started wearing green as part of a rebellious phase, but it really stuck when he started hanging around faries and they seemed to like it so much. (his mom is mega petty and condemmed him as fallen when he said red wasn't his favorite color. this is not a joke) - spent a lot of time planehopping to the nearby feywild, underdark, and shadowfell, met some strange people, and adpoted some strange tendencies and beliefs - Met virgil first, then they found deciet, becoming The Boys® - also saw the Some Shit®, doesnt remember it, but pretty sure that's because it just wasn't very interesting compared to a usual Saturday - Constitution and Strength high, Dexterity and Wisdom mid, Charisma and Intelligence low - Chaotic Chaotic (he cannot be defined with a moral tag and you know he can't) - Weaknesses: unpredictable to the extreme, some inadequacy issues, maybe crazy a little bit This is a fantasy world with several of Thomas and Friends and various skit characters inside, as follows: (I only have thomas joan and talyn rn, no idea for terrence and valerie and camden and the others yet... any ideas lol)(i hope i'm spelling everyone's names right)

REMY - Half-Elf, Inquisitive Rogue - Logan's older brother, formerly a spy for the kingdom they live in, actually very high level but prefers to sleep and otherwise do absolutely nothing - obscenely good at reading people, which Logan desperately envies - hangs around picani a lot, used to go to him for therapy (wouldnt tell logan what about) but now they're just good bros - Charisma and Dexterity high, Constitution Dexterity and Wisdom mid, Strength low (higher levels, less lows) - True Neutral - Weaknesses: debilitatingly lazy, blunt, Curious with a capital C

EMILE PICANI - Lightfoot Halfling, Circle of Dreams Druid - uses his abilities to read and sooth people really well and works as a therapist - sweet boy and housemate to patton, known each other since patton was a child - also pretty high level but doesnt really use it - Charisma and Wisdom high, Dexterity Constitution and Intellegence mid, Strength low - Lawful Good - Weaknesses: first language is refrences, refuses to display negative emotions (more of a 'i will philosophy and cartoon my way out of my sad asap' than an emotion-bottler, but don't put it past him) THOMAS

- Human, Glamour Bard (pretty 👏 boy 👏) - inspires through singing, dancing, performing, encouragement, speeches, literally breathing - Charisma and Intelligence high, Dexterity Strength and Wisdom mid, Constitution low - Lawful Good - Weaknesses: quick to trust and sympathize, puts others first (strengths AND weaknesses) - Lord of base town, with Joan and others as his Advisers

JOAN - Tiefling, Mastermind Rogue (sneaky spooky smart one, good with knowing about people without being necessarily good with people) - Thomas's primary adviser and master of secrets, Remy worked for them - looks scary, very pure. cuts cute little horn holes in their beanie for god's sake i mean come on - Wisdom and Dexterity high, Charisma Intelligence and Strength mid, Constitution low - Neutral Good - Weaknesses: You assume??? Joan can be bested??? Joan cannot be killed. Joan cannot be overcome

TALYN - Forest Gnome, Abjuration Wizard (protective spells) (cute small) - A prime adviser and Master of Knowledge (lore, history, scientific developments, etc) - favors defensive and ally-boosting spells - Logan's teacher; Logan respects and admires them very very much - Intelligence and Charisma high, Dexterity Constitution and Wisdom mid, Strength low - Neutral Good - Weaknesses: its Talyn, Talyn has no weaknesses. thoughts?? interest?? suggestions?? thank you for reading this long post lol

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders virgil #deciet sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides rpg au #sleep sanders #emile picani #joan and talyn #remus sanders #thomas sanders sides #sanders sides au #fantasy au

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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(I Can Still Recall) Our Last Summer - Chapter One (Group Fic) - pureCAMP

A/N - this is a re-upload bc it apparently disappeared! I hope everyone enjoys it this time lol, let’s pray it doesn’t go missing again

A/N 2 - Here’s the surprise that absolutely no one knew about! A prequel of sorts to HIGA, my Mamma Mia! au featuring trixya and shalaska which you can read here on AQ before this for context

As before, this was pre-written so the rest is ready to go. Let me know if weekly submissions are fine or if you would prefer anything sooner!

(dont lose hope shalaska stans bc chapter two is coming sooner than soon and it’s chock full - and did i mention 8.5k words)

“Sharon, are you ready to go yet? The deacon wanted us here early so you can help to mind the kids before the service!”

Sharon stared into the mirror at a face that didn’t feel like hers. It was free of makeup, the pallidity emphasising the dark circles beneath her eyes and her uneven skin tone. Her blonde hair was pulled back into one long plait, and not a single hair dared to break the strict mold she had been forced into, even from last night’s previous sexy curls. Even her clothes felt uncomfortable, the floral dress of her mother’s choosing hanging loosely from her frame.

Demure. Sensible. Her shoes were patent and shiny, with a thick rubber sole.

Sighing, Sharon started down the stairs. Just once more, she would’ve liked to have slept in a little on a Sunday, but that would never be. Missing church was a sin, and Sharon’s almost obsessively Catholic mother would never allow such a thing to happen in her household - even though it had before. For Sharon, it wasn’t worth the screaming. As she traipsed down the stairs, she ran her slender fingers along the many embellished crosses on the wall, serving as a reminder that she would never be good enough. Above her, the depiction of Jesus on the cross glared judgmentally at her.

I died for your sins, he seemed to be saying. I died on a cross for your sins, and you’re turning up to church hungover.

Everything Sharon spent her weekends doing, it seemed, was wrong or bad or sinful in some way. She knew drinking was against the rules. Her mother, practically Puritan in some of her opinions, insisted that the popular music of the time was sinful too, as was the dancing. Sharon knew her mother would have an aneurysm if she knew how her daughter had looked and behaved the night before; a vision in bright makeup and skin-tight sparkles, grinding against other dancers as she sang. The woman would have been seconds from a heart attack if she had seen Sharon just that morning, silently making her way up the stairs and frantically wiping all traces of sultry makeup and stage attire from her body. There hadn’t been any time to sleep or recover from her night of partying - not if she wanted to look presentable.

The skirt of Sharon’s dress reached just below her knees. She was the picture of a respectful Catholic girl.

“Ah, you look decent for once,” Her mother appraised her. “Not like that awful Gina. She’s about your age, isn’t she? What a dreadful girl.”

In Sharon’s mother’s eyes, Gina was dreadful mostly due to her clothes, which were scandalous as they dipped below her collarbones and above her knees. Sharon, however, had once caught her with a boy, and Gina had once caught Sharon performing on a weekend. They had a silent pact to never spill the other’s secret.

“Yeah…” Sharon murmured, her mind elsewhere.

Her mother paused. “Here. Don’t forget your cross, for goodness sake.” She placed the rosary around her daughter’s neck. “There. Now, remember, you’re helping out at Sunday school and then attending the service with me. And no complaining, not like last time. I raised you to be a good, God-fearing girl. Or else you know what.”

Sharon nodded meekly. “Of course.”

As they walked, Sharon’s mind wandered to her friends, yearning to get away. Raja, no doubt, was lying fast asleep on the island somewhere, curled around some naked guy with hickeys all over his neck. They’d been gyrating over each other all night, and Raja was never one to shy away from male attention. Jinkx would be asleep too, most likely with Dorito crumbs in her hair, drooling from her hangover, perhaps accompanied with some young woman tucked under her arm. And then there was Sharon, on her way to church.

It had been an incredible night, like always. Her outfit - safely tucked away in the taverna’s dressing room so that her mother would never stumble upon it - was everything she knew she wasn’t allowed, tight sequined lycra that clung to her body and was perfect for dancing in. Her makeup was dark and smokey, and her spirits were high, fuelled by the alcohol and the roaring of the crowd dancing beneath them. The Supermodels had been formed a year ago, and they’d amassed quite a following on the little island they performed on.

Would anyone’s opinion of her change if they could see her now? She was the star of their show, the main attraction; she was the one everyone lauded as the lead singer, the funniest, the favourite. Yet she was the one who caught the early morning boat across back to the mainland, hurrying to scrub her makeup off and dress herself up as a good daughter.

But that was just how things were. Despite Raja and Jinkx’s encouragement, she knew it was just going to stay that way.

It was inescapable, really. As she’d been told, ever since she was a child, Jesus was watching. Some unseen forces had their eyes on her, judging her every move. Despite her lack of belief, the threat was real enough to force her into keeping up pretenses, much to her friends’ dismay. But she couldn’t help it. Disappointing her mother only ever ended in disaster.

Sharon wasn’t sure what she disliked more, in all honesty - the chilling silence that hung around the pews in the church or the ungodly screaming of the children at the Sunday school. The actual leader of the group had fucked off twenty minutes ago to make a cup of tea and hadn’t come back, leaving Sharon alone with the screaming under-tens as she attempted to teach them about the Last Supper.

She was sat on an uncomfortably low chair, made for the children, as she attempted to continue their lesson to no avail. They were running amok, screeching and screaming as she tried to maintain some level of control. She was seventeen, for fuck’s sake - it was cruel that they’d put her on babysitting duty.

“And- And Jesus…” She tried, holding up the obscenely large book as she tried to command their attention. “And Jesus told his disciples- oh, fuck this.”

She flung the book onto the floor, ignoring how the smooth pages crumpled beneath the foot of a little boy. She had never liked that stupid shiny book anyway. Bread and wine seemed like a crap dinner.

“You just said a bad word! I’m going to tell the priest!” An obnoxious kid of maybe seven declared, crossing her arms across her chest.

She was the kind of brat Sharon’s mother had always hoped Sharon would be. Her gaze was accusatory, her clothes disgustingly pristine, and she probably had some kind of stupid name like Mary-Ann. Undoubtedly, she’d grow up to be another suffocating church mom.

Sharon scowled. “Oh yeah? How about I tell your mommy that you said you don’t believe in God, and you don’t even want to do your stupid Holy Communion? Hmm?”

The little girl burst into tears. Sharon rolled her eyes, anger bubbling in her chest as she rose from the ridiculously tiny chair and stormed out of the room. The door slammed shut behind her, attracting the attention of the volunteer who was supposed to be taking care of the Sunday school. He looked up in surprise.

“They’re all yours.” She snarled. “Little fucking angels, the lot of them.”

With that, she stormed into the nave, cursing under her breath as she let the door slam shut behind her.

It seemed her outburst had not gone unnoticed, however, as the priest had ceased his dismal preaching, and the churchgoers were staring in horror at her entrance. It didn’t take long for Sharon to spot her mother, in that ludicrous hat with her murderous glare, so she walked with her head high towards the pew, slipping onto the end and bowing her head to blend in.

“Is everything quite alright with the children?” The priest inquired. Someone snickered.

“Just fucking peachy.” She replied, eliciting a shocked gasp. “Continue, Father John.”

Listening to the priest was no better, really, than the meltdown-inducing chaos of the Sunday school children, but it was something. At least his dull, unrelenting voice could allow her to zone out a little. She could just go into autopilot, saying ‘Amen’ when necessary and singing the words to hymns that she had practically been breastfed since birth.

As usual, she just obeyed. Sit down, stand up, pass money into the collection dish, sit down, sing the hymns, stand up. It was liturgical and structured, they told her. Just the way that God wanted it to be. Just the way she would never be able to be.

Suffocating. That was how it really was. Sharon felt trapped. A foot out of line, a hair out of place, a word misspoken - that was enough to feel as though she had let everyone down. She was a disgrace to the church and one day, she knew everyone would know about it. It felt like she was living a lie, almost. She’d go as far as saying that she had never believed in God, even as a child, and so attended the services in disbelief. She lived a lie, whilst still feeling the pressure and judgement under His watchful eye with her every thought and action. Sharon’s life was essentially planned out for her, all thanks to the church, and she hated it. She would never be able to be that perfect little wife they wanted her to be.

Raja and Jinkx were lucky. Raja’s family were Hindu, but Raja herself wasn’t, and Jinkx seemed as free as the wind that blew over the shore, devoid of any preconceived notions of how she should behave. Raja and Jinkx were able to just be. Sharon didn’t have that luxury.

The service ended all too soon, filling Sharon with a sense of impending dread. Most of her rebellion was away from her mother, as a way to feel as though she was silently taking control of her own life and her own fate. Rarely, she dared to be as bold as she had in talking back to the priest and the volunteer, and it always landed her in boiling hot water. Private rebellion felt safer, and as the priest talked, she could feel the looming horror of her punishment growing closer and closer, like the telling chill of a devastating winter blizzard. Although she hated it, she wished the service could go on for longer.

Mere seconds after it had ended, Sharon’s mother had taken her arm in a vice-like grip, and was frogmarching her outside. Her face was stony, rigidly set in a mask of pure anger that told Sharon she was going to pay dearly for her actions, at some point.

“What on God’s green earth do you think you’re doing?!” She bellowed, Sharon instinctively flinching. “How dare you swear at a man of God? How dare you embarrass me and our family in the holy place?”

Sharon swallowed. “I- I didn’t mean to, I-”

“Oh, yes, of course, now is the perfect time to repent from your sins. Sharon, dearest, do you remember your parables? How Jesus forgave the adulterous woman and made her promise to never do it again?”

She had no other option but to nod. “Yes, mom.”

“You aren’t just running out of chances, you vile brat. You ran out a long time ago.” Sharon’s mother paused, straightening her awful hat and glaring at Sharon, her face pinched. “Through Jesus, we find the way and the light. But you, young lady? You will never find His light. You will not be welcomed into the arms of Heaven when Judgement Day arrives. You’ll burn in Hell’s fires.”

She turned on her heel, marching away from the church and leaving Sharon with no choice in following her, a few paces behind so that she couldn’t see the tears glistening in her eyes. It didn’t matter if Sharon didn’t believe. Her mother did, and her mother truly believed she’d be suffering in eternal damnation. She would never be good enough.

It stung the entire way home. Sharon walked slowly, mulling over her mother’s words obsessively and growing more and more worked up as she thought. It wasn’t fair - it wasn’t fucking fair. She needed to get out. She needed to get away.

Of course, it would take careful planning, but Sharon was perfectly adjusted to finding illicit ways to get what she wanted. Sneaking out was practically second nature, having been raised in a Catholic prison since birth. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was hide away.

As quickly as she could, she changed out of her nauseating church garb, letting her hair fall back into its natural waves and applying the makeup that her mother so heavily frowned upon. She knew that she would be reading by now, poring over her favourite Bible verses in order to distract and soothe her from the travesty that was her daughter, which meant Sharon had a short window of time to escape in.

Like a pro, she managed it, positioning each foot carefully on the stairs to avoid creaking and edging the door open inch by inch until she could slip through it. Once out, she ran, pelting at full-tilt through the twisting market streets into the wealthier part of town. At just after midday, she knew Raja would be home by now, and more than anything, she needed the company of her best friends.

Unlike Sharon’s respectable little home, Raja and her family were on the more extravagant side of the spectrum. Their house was gleaming white, adorned with colonnades and statues of centuries-worshipped gods that spurted water across the courtyard. It was essentially a mansion in the middle of town, and as stifling as it may have looked, it was like a second home. Even just approaching the house made her feel calmer, the anger dissipating a little. Her spirits felt lifted.

She only had to knock once before she received an answer.

“Hey!” Raja greeted as the door swung open. Jinkx stood behind her, the both of them dressed and awake for once. “You coming in?”

“Nope. You’re coming out.” Sharon grinned, spreading her arms wide to allow the sunshine to embrace her. “We’re going back to paradise and you’re coming with me.”

When in desperation, the island was Sharon’s solace. It was where The Supermodels performed on weekends, but it was also the perfect escape away from her mother’s hawk eyes that always seemed to watch her. Hardly anyone even knew about it, other than those who lived there, and those who did know about it didn’t have any interest. After all, there wasn’t much there besides the houses, a small marketplace for the residents, the taverna and some abandoned buildings. It was so secluded that it felt safe and adventurous all at the same time. Of course, it was party central for any teens, thanks to the taverna’s staging and outdoor dance floor, but that was a secret from any prying adults.

Within minutes, the girls had rushed out, dragging Raja’s boat onto the shore so they could sail away to safety. Sharon closed her eyes and let the salty air refresh her, letting the breeze blow her hair back as the sea spray flicked her skin. This was comfort and safety. Out in the open, surrounded by the blue of the ocean and the blue of the sky, nothing could hurt her. God couldn’t judge her here. She was untouchable.

They disembarked at the dock, taking each other’s hands and running all the way up, fraught with giggles. Something about the island just filled them with a sense of joy. It was only when they climbed to the highest point on the island, a sandy cliff-face that had only rocks and flowers, that they calmed down.

Sharon sat onto one of the rocks. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m going insane, girls.”

“I’m not surprised,” Jinkx replied, squatting in a decidedly unladylike manner over another rock. “It’s the same every time.”

“I mean, what’s the point?” Sharon asked. “I don’t care about what happens when I die, and whether I get into some fictional fucking Heaven. I care about now, in the moment. But nothing is happening in the moment because I’m so fucking restricted! By her, and that stupid fucking God!”

Raja nodded. “We gotta get you out of this shit before she brainwashes you. Keep rebelling and keep holding on, girl.”

Sharon sighed. “The stupid bint just keeps getting worse and worse, which just drives me to do more. I didn’t get back this morning until half an hour before we needed to leave. Plus she found those vodka bottles I hid the other week and went fucking berserk at me. Fuck her and fuck her stupid-ass rules.”

“Yes!” Raja and Jinkx cheered in unison. “Fuck her!”

“And fuck my dad for going off to Spain to be a fucking missionary. Fuck the entire fucking religion.”

Sharon took a deep breath. “Okay, it’s out of my system. So, what’s happening tomorrow? Same set?”

Jinkx shrugged. “I’d say so. With any luck, those hot siblings will be there again.”

She and Raja exchanged a knowing look.

“Shut up!” Sharon squealed, bursting into laughter. “You did not fuck a sibling each! You did not!”

“WE DID!” Raja screeched, giggling. “We really did!”

“You’re so bad!” Sharon laughed, wiping a stray tear from her eye. “I can’t believe you. That’s amazing.”

Jinkx snorted, which set them all off again into a fit of hysterical laughter.

“You know, that’s the next step. To piss off your mom.” Raja observed.

Sharon frowned. “Huh?”

“Thou shalt not commit adultery.” Raja recited solemnly, her hand on her chest in a mockery of a promise. “Girl, commit some fucking adultery and discover the wonderful world of premarital sex.”

Sharon grinned. “I’m not gonna fuck just to piss my mom off! When I find the right guy or girl I’ll do it, but not for her. She’s not worth that much.”

“Atta girl!” Jinkx reached over for a high five. “And when you do choose to lose your virginity, do tell us all the details. I miss being pure.”

“Aww, you think I’m pure?” Sharon teased, cupping her hands in prayer. “A little angel?”

“Not with those dance moves last night, sweetheart.” Raja butted in, standing up to do a horrifically inaccurate impression. “Sexy as hell!”

The three collapsed into peals of giggles once again.

When the sun began to sink towards the horizon, painting the island in beautiful shades of copper, the girls made their way back to the boat, ready to sail away from their bubble of paradise. Sharon felt her heart tugging as they left, wanting nothing more than to stay and bask in the beginnings of the warm summer evenings. At home, a strict schedule and disappointment awaited her. Her heart sank like the sun beneath the waves as they moored, stepping back onto the mainland.

“Let’s take the long way round,” Sharon said softly, her friends catching on immediately. In silent solidarity, they each wrapped an arm around her as they walked, browsing leisurely through the market stalls to waste as much time as they could.

Familiar faces went past like always, driving Sharon insane with the repetition. Her life needed something new, desperately.

I wasn’t made for this, she thought, eyeing the unwavering structure of the world around her. I was never meant to do what everyone else is doing.

Sharon wondered, briefly, if the out-of-place feeling would ever stop, until she saw him.

He was stood alone at the tourist information stall, purchasing a map. His hair was dark, slightly curly, in a tousled mess atop his head. Though she couldn’t see all of him, Sharon could tell he was lean and muscular, and she was mesmerised by the movement of his pink lips as he spoke in a husky voice.

“Fuck me, he is gorgeous.” She breathed, turning to Raja and Jinkx and then back to him.

He turned, offering her a crooked, mischievous smile and a cocked eyebrow. “Was that you?”

“Might’ve been.” Sharon responded coyly. “What’s it to you?”

He chuckled, the sound like music to Sharon’s ears, and offered his hand. “You little minx. I’m Justin, I’m here on vacation. I thought I’d get out and see all the hidden wonders of the world.”

She took it. “Sharon. How’s that going for you? I live here on the mainland and I haven’t found any hidden wonders.”

Justin shrugged, a flirtatious smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m looking at one right now. Maybe you could show me some more?”

In spite of herself, Sharon blushed. This handsome stranger was doing all kinds of crazy things to her mind, and yet they were only flirting. She had never felt this way before.

“You ever been to that little island over there?” She asked, pointing towards the landmass in the near distance. Justin shook his head.

“You’re in luck.” Sharon smiled. “Meet me there, six in the evening tomorrow. There’s a fantastic show at the taverna that I’m sure you’ll love”

Justin nodded slowly, impossibly suave. “With you, I’d go anywhere.”

#rpdr fanfiction #purecamp #our last summer #shalaska #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #raja gemini #jinkx monsoon #group fic #submission #m/f au #mamma mia au

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neoculturetechxgot7 · 5 years

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♤ // Six of Spades // ♤

part 1

Summary - Mark Lee offers you to join his semi-legal club, where he and his friends count cards and win money playing blackjack every Saturday night.

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

Au: College!Au, Gambling!Au

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: Gambling references, mild language

All the dull golden rays coming from the streetlights lining the pavement do little to provide illumination, as you hastily walk across a deserted neighbourhood, hand clutching onto the soft material of your coat. It's silent, too silent to be comfortable but you keek going, feet slightly shaking, both from the cold breeze pickling its way through your clothing and the eerie atmosphere around you, as if every soul has vanished.

A sudden roaring has you jumping in terror, as a car speeds past you, leaving a trail of thick black fume on and your heart banging erratically inside your chest. "Focus" you mutter to yourself in an attempt to calm your nerves and reminisce his words.

"Left turn on the central road, then right after the cathedral and left again. Look for the neon sign." Mark's raspy voice echoes in your head like a ghost and your gaze lands on a small gated church ahead of you, newfound hope blooming inside your chest. You're in the right route.

Picking up your pace with a faint grin, following the orders that black haired boy had given you, your feet stroll on the grey concrete quicker, anticipation growing inside of you. His image unconsciously flows in your mind, with his glassy eyes that possess the sweetest shade of chestnut and his sharp edges and high cheekbones and that damn smile that's so boldly carved in your brain, as if his pearly teeth can brighten away every shadow.

Another turn and you find yourself in a narrow alley, the complete lack of lighting pulling you out of your thoughts to look up the hugh buildings caging you inbetween paint-chipped walls, a smell of gasoline and trash in the air. Beaming neon letters catch your attention, brushing purple strokes of light on the ground. "Three Of Diamonds" the sign reads, decorating the wall above a rusty door, old enough for you to wonder whether it will collapse upon knocking on it. After convincing yourself that this is indeed the right place and taking a few hesitant steps through the shadows, your knuckles bang on the cool metal twice. You can her shuffling from the other side and then the screeching sound of hinges, before a familiar face appears before you, strands hair messily pocking out of a green beanie and a large hoodie hugging his figure.

His eyes light up at the sight of you shyly greeting him with and airy wave of your hand, the corner of his mouth forming a smirk. "I was starting to think you wouldn't show up after all." He says before gesturing you inside, voice smooth as silk.

"Well, I was seriously debating whether to come or not." You reply with a raised eyebrow and step inside the small residence. Or better say, warehouse. The floor is dusty, weird stains evident of its rough surface and a discreet smell of mold makes you noticeably cringe. You begin scanning your surroundings to notice a red leather couch on the side of the room and a tv hanged on the wall across you.

"I'm glad you came." Mark captures your attention, geaturing towards the large table in the center of the room, covered in thick green felt and single deck of cards laying on top. "Have a seat."

You mentally count the chairs around it, adding up to a total of 6. "Who else are we waiting for?" You ask watching him grab one and turn one around and sit with his elbows propped on its back, fingers already shuffling the cards in an instinctive way.

"Renjun, Jeno, Heachan and Jeamin." Every name rings in your ears like a bell to trigger hour memory. You recognize them, but have yet to officially meet anyone . Jeno and Renjun are in the same major as you and you share a couple of classes with Heachan and Jeamin, but other than that -and some quick glances in the hallways- you have no other interaction with them.

Your coat slides off your shoulders and you settle down next to him. His presence stirs up something inside you, emotions mixing up in an mysterious combination.

"You're smart, I guess you've already figured out why I called you here, right?" Mark asked, his dark chocolate eyes not leaving yours.

You really wished you had. "It's something that involves gambling." You said pointing at the deck in his hands and he nodded. "And I think it's kinda illegal..." You continued, earning a chuckle from him, his head shaking in agreement. "Other than that, I really dont know."

Mark leaned back in his seat. "So, you got a good idea of the whole concept." That smirk lingered on his lips again. "But you're missing some basic details. Allow me to explain. Remember what I told you yesterday in the library?" You hummed in agreement and brought your weird encounter back.

Mark Lee was the hot senior that got involved in almost everything, his name well known among students and professors around campus. You had met through common friends in a party last year and he was polite enough to greet you every time he passed by you at the hallway, but you didn't talk that much to consider him anything more than an acquaintance. So it was out of nowhere when he sat across from you, while you were sank in your physics text book, and sparked a conversation. "Hey, I've heard you're really great at linear algebra" You were startled and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his awkward compliment. "Uh...thanks." Mark leaned loser, his fingers tangled together on the wooden table. "Do you, by any chance, happen to know how to play blackjack?" You were taken aback by that. What? Why was he even asking such a thing? You set the book down and tilted you head to the side. "Yeah...But I've never been to a casino before." Your voice came out low and hesitant.

"Great. Now one last question. Would you like to earn fast cash?" That caught you off guard. You didn't respond and kept staring at him, trying to pinpoint signs that would prove he was just messing with you. Maybe this was a prank, he was a senior after all. But he didn't even flutter an eyelash as he waited for your answer, eyes trying to read your expression, and you had to admit, his question had picked at your interest. You ducked forward, your eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?" Mark scanned the room, moving form rows and rows of books to students that were walking by. "I can't really tell you here. But we can meet up somewhere close by." His voice was only a hoarse whisper as he started giving you directions to the location. "Tomorrow, 11. And don't tell anyone." He swiftly got up with a grin plastered on his face and made his way out, leaving you with a confused grimace, trying to make sense of the last 2 minutes with him.

And now you were sitting across Mark, as he proceeded to explain the reason he had invited you over. "So basically we play this game, blackjack" his fingers were quick to start dealing the cards he was holding around the table. "And we place bets. I guess it is gambling yes, but we're not really gamblers." He spared you a single knowing glance before placing another card on your pile. "A gambler plays based solely on their luck. They take risks, bet on chance. We, on the other hand, bet on an insured win."

You crossed your arms over you chest, biting your lip while trying to understand where he was going with that. Once done dealing the cards, he sat down, facing you. "See, we've found this way, this method, to predict our chances of winning."

"How?" you cut him off. He smirked at the curiosity written across your face. "It's simple, we count cards and play accordingly. We bet, we win and we gain money. And practically, 'counting' isn't illegal, only the gambling club we play in is." You laughed at his remark.

A few long moments of silence followed, where Mark fidgeted with the sleeve of his hoodie, waiting for you to respond. "So, you go to your nice little gambling club or whatever, you do this 'counting' thing and win money. Sounds nice. But why am I here?"

"So" He paused to wipe his palm on his tighs, with a sigh before he continued, shrugging. "This club we play in is only for college students and we usually win a fair amount of cash but we wanted something more. Try to catch the big fish."

You nodded at his words, seeing where that would end.

"So we have decided to try our 'luck' in an actual..." Your voice cut him off mid-sentence "Casino." Mark grinned, he liked that you were following him that well. "But we need one more person. Someone that has the skills." "And that's where I come in." "Yeah." You got up and began pacing around, his eyes following you.

Once more, silence fell over the room as you took your time, processing every bit of information Mark had given you the last 5 minutes. For a few seconds you wondered if this whole offer was legit, or Mark was simply pranking you, just as you had thought in the library. He and four other guys were going to this gambling club where they counted cards and made themselves richer and richer every time, but apparently that wasn't enough for them and they needed you, a complete stranger that was good in algebra, to help them do the same in an actual casino. As in, cheat in an actual casino....as in practically rob an actual casino. Yeah, ain't happening.

"No way." You spat out standing in front of him. Mark tensed up, his face morphing into a frown. "What? Why?"

"I don't know...maybe because I don't want to go to jail for illegal gambling?" Sarcasm dripped from your tongue as you pronounced every word, shoulders shrugging. He jolted up from his chair, lightly grasping your arm, sending shivers down your spine. A reassuring look settled on his face as he leaned closer. "That's not happening. I already told you counting isn't illegal, no one can arrest you for counting cards. And it's only for one night..."

A loud banging on the door interrupted your conversation, causing you both to turn to that direction. Mark sighed and reached for the door, to let four boys, whose faces you instantly recognized, inside. One of them, Jeno, had black hair and a tall, muscular frame just as his blonde friend Jaemin, the one that run to pull Mark into a tight embrace upon entering. The other two, Heachan and Renjun walked in afterwards, patting their friend on the back, before coming to stand around the table, eyes focusing on you. Mark pushed the door closed and came to stand by you, hand lingering on the small of your back as he gestured you to the others.

"So guys, y/n, decided to join us for today's session." Mark announced and Jeno stepped forward extending his arm to shake your hand. "Hey, I'm Jeno." His smile made his eyes crinkle. "We're together in linear algebra."

"Yeah, but I didn't know you had noticed me before." You replied, arching your eyebrow.

"Actually, Jeno was the one that took an interest in your skills." Mark commented and you watched the other chuckle and run a hand through his locks. "Yeah, I was really impressed with your answers in lectures. I think you'd be really good at counting." He winked at the last sentence.

You mumbled a brief 'thank you' as Jeno took a seat around the table, beside yours. Next to him was Jaemin who instantly waved when your eyes landed on him. He introduced himself to you and you did the same, then moved on to the next one, Renjun, who leaned over the table to shake your hand. His voice was soft but a steady tone tangled throughout his words. Lastly, came Heachan, who had picked up the pile of cards in front of him, already fanning them out in his fingers. He didn't even bother to raise his glance at you when you asked for his name -even though you were well aware of it and the popular, rebellious status that came with it-. "Haechan." His tone was cold, almost spiteful, as he kept chewing his gum and eyeing the numbers on his cards, uninterested in you.

Mark didn't seem to notice his friend's behaviour as he continued. "So I was just telling her about our plan"

"And I think I'm gonna have to pass on your generous offer. What you got going on seems fun, I guess, but I'd prefer not to risk it." You cut him off once more, hand reaching for you coat on the chair, before Mark swiftly placed his own over it. "Wait." He just can't take 'no' for an answer, can he?

"Mark, I think I've made up my mind." You said breathlessly, your eyes rolling before you pressed your lips together in slight annoyance.

He didn't back down. "I think you haven't. Because you knew something was going on here yet you came. That must mean something." His voice was low but soft, words hitting a spot inside you. "Maybe it was just my curiosity." You replied, shrugging.

Mark's eyes glimmered under the dim yellow light inside the warehouse. "Aren't you curious about how we do this then? Wouldn't you want to play one round to find out?" A sigh left your lips as you rolled your eyes. "Mark..."

"Y/n please, just one round." Mark insisted, his fingers squeezing yours. You looked over at the table, where the others were fanning out their cards and Jeno selecting the top card from the deck. As much as you wanted to walk out that door and forget about Mark Lee's stupid offer, you couldn't hide the desire burning in your chest. There was something luring you to that green-felt covered table, the pile of cards in front of your seat calling for you and the looks of the men around you, as if pleading you to stay. Even Haechan's attention was withdrawn from his cards and focused on you. And you needed money too, it wasn't like you were gonna land a good paying job the minute you graduate college either way. But above all, you needed, a little of what seemed like an adventure. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

You took a deep breath, blinking a couple of times. With a groan you pulled your chair back and sat down, gathering the cards in your palm, as you watched Mark Lee's smile making an appearance on his face again and Jeno, the dealer for tonight, sliding a single card to the center of the table. The ace of spades to start the game.

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fantroll-purgatory · 5 years

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Heya, this is my first time submitting IIRC!! so like. please be gentle

I don’t actually have a finished drawing of this character yet, I’ll have to work on them later. Is that ok? If I show you their design in a separate post after I’ve finished the art of them? Sorry its just. i really want to hear your thoughts on her personality and such

Of course it’s alright! We take trolls without drawn design concepts all the time. You can definitely send them in later! I’m always happy to review a good character!

World: Ouranos, a troll planet that orbits a red dwarf, and is tidally locked-one side always faces towards the sun, and the other side faces away. Unlike Alternia, Ouranos has never had any seadwelling trolls, and all the castes simply run from red to purple. All trolls are de jure equal, after a long and bloody history of subjugation under many tyrannical rulers, but this de jure equality hardly matters due to wealth and resource disparities that prevent historical lowbloods from holding any sort of power. Trolls on Ouranos don’t inherently live longer if they have bluer blood, but wealth disparities means that higher bloods can essentially live as long as they want while lowbloods suffer and die within just a few dozen sweeps. I like this world setup a lot! It expands upon some extant questions about Alternian society, too, like if part of the lifespan disparity is simply caused by lack of access and difference in labor expectations. You should think about details of this planet like: Is this just the planet they’ve always lived on in your AU? Or is it a colony planet established by the Condesce? Or is it a forgotten planet that the trolls we are familiar with lived on Before moving to Alternia and there’s been a convergent evolution despite the planetary separation? Name: Elapea Serpen (Serpen comes from the suborder Serpentes, which defines all snakes, while Elapea comes form Elapidae, a family in Serpentes that contains sea snakes and coral snakes, the two kinds of snakes she is based off of. she isn’t exclusively based off of elapids though, she has some elements of boas as well: see her strife specibus)

I love this a Lot for a character themed around being a landdwelling creature diving into the water. Age: 5 Sweeps

Theme/Story: So Elapea is kind of a Meenah/Feferi figure on Ouranos- she is the descendant of the Imperial Devourer, the last empress of Ouranos before she was overthrown by a gang of lowbloods. She actually knows this, as her caretaker (who is another troll instead of a lusus) is a very old highblood who was alive during the reign of the Imperial Devourer.

Backstory out of the way, Elapea is basically a weird conspiracy theorist. You remember how I said Ouranos has no seadwellers? Elapea believes they actually do exist, and they’re controlling the entire planet from the shadows, or something. (This was inspired by the story of cults like the Illuminati, or the lizard people conspiracy theory, but I only realized how antisemitic those stories were, so like. I’m trying to think of a way to have it so that she can still believe seadwellers exist and control the planet without it resembling any of those antisemitic conspiracy theories). As such, Elapea dives deep into the ocean to try and hunt down and kill seadwellers, enamored with the idea that by killing them all she could become worshipped by trollkind, or something. She never finds any seadwellers of course (not for a while at least), just a bunch of monsters.

Due to pressures from her now old (898 sweeps exactly) caretaker, who is kind of not great at doing his job and tries to grow her into an extremely strong troll who can rule the planet like her ancestor, she has taken to pitch romanticizing the idea of a seadweller, simply because she thinks she has to. (This part needs working out as well, i want it to be like. uncomfortable. but i also want it to be clear that i dont condone that kind of thing in kids like her? bc once again she’s only five sweeps old and i just realized that this doesnt actually go well with what her caretaker tries to shape her into what do i dO (actually what if i made it so that her caretaker wanted to enforce a traditional notion of femininity that’s akin to our sense of toxic masculinity, simply under a matriarchy as opposed to a patriarchy? that might work)).

Ok I realize I got back into backstory, so one more thing. Elapea is extremely dramatic, akin to a theater kid. Once again, she wants to be a superhero, so she sort of plays out everything she does like she’s in a play and the whole world is watching. She wants to be the protagonist of a story.

I love that you’re actually thinking about the sensitivity implications of these kinds of things, it’s always encouraging to see writers thinking about and researching the backgrounds of this. Wrt the illuminati and snake people thing, the simplest solution is to just try to avoid drawing any kind of aesthetic or cultural similarities to it. You can’t let Ouranos have the same kind of Hype around Illuminati conspiracies or the same degree of online jokes about the ‘lizard people living among us’ premise. I think your safest bet overall is to avoid Any kind of “shadowy cabal of noble people destroying the world,” because that almost always has antisemitic roots unless you’re very careful about it and most non-Jewish people just aren’t going to be able to achieve that kind of nuance without a Jewish sensitivity reader.

Maybe if you wanted to play on her Hero Bent, you could dive more into an Atlantian/Cosmic Horror (Lovecraft Don’t Interact)/Greek Hero sort of angle? I know that’s an odd sort of mishmash, but instead of her believing seadwellers are some kind of String-Pulling Clique, she could believe more in Furthest Ring style interpretation of seadwellers who aren’t so much controlling the world as they are driving the world mad. You could give her a very classic-style Dive Into The Underworld To Fight A God style vibe. Read about Katabasis.

As for the Bad Guardian thing, I can say that you could probably push the relationship angle effectively without straying into ‘too weird’ territory by having the Guardian try to remind her that a strong leader “HAS” to have strong quadrants backing her and trying to like set her up on dates with other highbloods. You can make it obvious that this has a significant impact on her view of relationships, like having her waffle between believing in true love(s) and thinking of romance as a purely political tool, of her straining between wanting to make her guardian proud/wanting to date nobly and wanting to pursue her own happiness.

So make that a clear reflection of the pressures her Guardian puts on her in general. Everything is performative, everything is in pursuit of her political aims, everything is so that she can take her proper throne, the Lonesome treats her not as a person but as a tool, as a potentiality, and she is not allowed to be herself in any ways. If you want to keep the Seadweller Fantasy, maybe you could do something that a lot of Abused Kids experience- maybe she experiences the Shape Of Water effect. Daydreams about finding a monster partner who will take her away from the pressures of modern society.

Goals: Basically, to make sure i can solidly lock her backstory into one that isn’t like. really antisemitic and also somewhat pedophilic? because frankly i dont want people to think im saying its ok to ship literal children or something and like. how do i get that across, that this kid is really not treated very well by her caretaker (ill just say his title, it’s Assassin Lonesome. he’s a pretty edgy dude but i wont get too much in detail with him). Also, I need a fair bit of help with a quest? and also to try and develop who she *really* wants to be and the dichotomy with how her caretaker *wants* her to be.

I think you don’t have to worry about two characters who are the same age dating or having feelings- that’s normal for 15 year olds to do. You should definitely just make it obvious that you don’t think adults should have a hand in children’s relationships the way the Lonesome tries to. As I said above, press on the fact that the Lonesome really puts the weight of her ancestor over her and tries to force her to fit a mold and a role, maybe indicate that he objectifies her/treats her more as a weapon or tool than as a person with her own goals. We’ll get into what SHE wants to be when we get down to personality/interests, etc. Strife Specibus: Elapea uses a Kusarigama, a kind of scythe-on-a-chain weapon, apparently said to have the highest mortality of any weapon of its time. i actually just found that out as i wrote this, i just thought they fit the theme bc she’s a snake. anyways if you dont know they basically have a scythe on one end and a heavy weight on the other end of the chain, and the idea is that you swing the weight end to bind someone in place and then use the scythe to go in for the kill, which is both somewhat representative of how snakes in general bite their prey to kill them, and also how boas in particular will wrap their bodies around their prey to strangle them.

That’s definitely a COOL weapon to use and is fitting themeatically for the snake concept. I do worry about its utility in water, though. She wants to die into the sea and hunt seadwellers, right? A spear or harpoon might end up being the more functional weapon for her in the end… But there’s nothing that says she couldn’t have two strife specibi, one for on land and one for at sea. Fetch Modus: Elapea uses the Locket Modus; whenever an item is captchalogued, the two halves of its essence are split up between two halves of a heart, diamond, spade, or club locket, and she keeps one half while the other half goes to someone close to her. (they dont have to necessarily be in quadrants, like often times they go to Mullen, who is essentially just her little brother, or to Assassin Lonesome) She can only get the item out by meeting with the person who has the other half of the locket, and combining the lockets. Shenanigans then ensue from this, esp since she has one locket which she has no idea how she got and no idea who holds the other half and it contains a legendary super powerful juju that i can’t get into right now.

Okay, that’s a super cute modus idea that I love the idea and implications of. Always make all your choices together! It also does have the stressful implications, of course, of the idea that the Lonesome in some ways controls her behavior/what she is allowed to do. Dual Purposes! Blood Color: Purple Symbol and Meaning:

https://imgur.com/LnlLu0g

(i cant figure out how to embed images mshjbvbxchj) basically it’s a uhh. its a snake. this was my first fanmade sign like, ever, and i love it

It looks great! And fits the purple sign language very well.

Handle:

serpentineBloodthirst (SB) (All of my fantrolls and fankids have element symbols for their chat handles, so Elapea’s respective element is antimony, an element traditionally associated with things like femininity and makeup, referencing how elapea is basically supposed to be a queen, but it also- wait no it was tellurium that smells really terrible. i cant remember a lot of its properties tbh)

Well, antimony comes from a root that basically means “Monk-Killer,” so that’d be fun to play with. Out here killing/almost killing a seadweller monk.

serpentineBloodthirst feels a little too obvious, though. It’s a direct statement of some of her themes and her goals, but it doesn’t tell you much about her character, what she values, or what she’s interested in. Imagine if Kanaya’s handle were something like vampiricFashionista, for example. Remember- the characters pick their handles for themselves. Is this how she would describe herself? You could go with something funner, like slitheringBrutaliberation, with brutaliberation being a portmanteau of Brutality and Liberation, since she thinks she’s being a hero.

Quirk:

Elapea opens every line with “~~~< ” and every one of her s’s is replaced with “SSS”. i made this before i learned how common the double s quirk is, so i’m glad it goes the extra mile of not just turning “as” into “ass”, but going so far as to turn it into “aSSS”

Hey, snakes hiss, it’s a good quirk to use. Maybe you could also have her end threats with “vv” (they’re her fangs). ex: ~~~< dont try me unlesss you want to get bit vv

Special Abilities:

None (or at least she can’t use psychic powers. Trolls on Ouranos have long ago lost their psychic powers, so all she can really do is punch people and stuff. She’s also a really good swimmer, so you could count that i guess)

Lusus/Guardian:

once again, trolls on Ouranos don’t have lusii! instead, Elapea has a “caretaker”, who is an older troll who adopts them like a parent. Once again, her caretaker is Assassin Lonesome, who tries to raise her to be like her ancestor, lethal and cold, so that she can continue the tyrant tradition of the bygone days of Ouranos.

Interests:

Unsure how much of this i accidentally explained in the theme section, once again Elapea loves drama and stories of great heroes, and as such everything she does takes on an incredibly dramatic flair to please whatever Providence watches over her. She is highly interested in romanticism, though really not at all ready for its highs and lows yet.

Elapea also really likes to swim! She goes out into the ocean hunting for seadwellers, and likes to take thrill in slaying the monsters that lurk in the waters, risking life and limb in a dark space where even the luxury of breathing is taken from you, simply for the thrill. This does not concern Assassin Lonesome at all as he is, as has been established multiple times now, an idiot who cannot raise children.

Now I’m going to go ahead and spoil my classpect discussion here when I say I almost think making Elapea a heart player is going to be too obvious. I Mean I think it’s definitely still something you could go with and justify solidly, because she does have a core conflict about her identity and who she is as well as relationship problems, but I feel like that’s such a problem that isn’t only internal to her but is also external- it’s not her being wrapped up in her own head about it, it’s her environment pushing an uncertainty on her. And I think she needs a little more of a classpect push than from the internalized forces of heart and mind.

All of that is to say I think she reads more like she might need some Void influence to me. She believes in mysterious things out there beyond her view, she wants to hunt them down, find the answers. Delving into dark places to try to find something new is what light’s all about. The blank canvas, the something where there was nothing, that’s void, and that’s interesting. She needs to learn to cast doubt on what she’s known, to bring the lessons she’s been taught under scrutiny, to determine where the truth really lies, if there is a truth at all.

…Which is all to say I think you could expand her interests to reflect all of this. Does she like stories about the murky dark and the dangers within? Does she like Unsolved Mysteries and conspiracy theories that have lead her to this? Does she like political espionage and intrigue? Does she want to smooch a fish?

Appearance: I won’t get too into detail since I’ll be posting a drawing later, but basically, she wears a black one piece swimsuit with a long swim skirt over it with black, red, and yellow stripes in the pattern of a coral snake. Besides her sign, she only really wears purple on her slippers, and i’m currently debating whether or not she should also wear purple makeup because of the antimony association that forces her to be stereotypically feminine? still unsure there. She also wears a long ponytail with red and yellow streaks down it (because it would be silly to have a horizontally striped ponytail).

Troll femininity is different from human femininity anyways. Alternian femininity mostly seems to mean Long Hair and that’s about it, considering Feferi/Fuchsias are the standard of beauty and not all of them wear makeup. Even a fashion-focused character like Kanaya only rarely wore lipstick and didn’t have lash color. Makeup is more of an accent piece for trolls than a Femininity Standard. Personality: Elapea is, once again, highly dramatic, but also bold and somewhat harsh, with a very strong “holier than thou” attitude. Elapea is older than this meme, but thinking about it now, it’s sort of the same idea as the “NPC wojak” meme, where other people are viewed as more like NPCs in a video game, and the “player characters” view them as lesser, even though they’re not? is that making sense? (and yes, i know npc wojak is a fascist meme, the idea is that she’s sort of been indoctrinated by her fascist dad) she’s also rather violent, tending to take out her anger on innocent people or things. We love a flawed character who gets to learn. Like I described above I think giving her a bit more curiosity and maybe low-level, boiling rebelliousness might be a good idea. As the EZ says about Void, “In order for something new to be built, the old, rotting foundation must often be razed.” Lunar Sway: Derse- she’s fighting back against a perceived complacency or numbness in society, the one the same “NPC wojak” meme expresses, that other people don’t have an internal dialogue and are less than human. It’s hard to explain? Later she realizes that this is wrong, and starts to fight back against people who push that kind of worldview. Title: Page of Heart. I must admit that I gave her that title based on the idea that the Page is the active counterpart to the Knight who is passive. So that might explain some things; it denotes her struggle to become ok with who she is and not who she’s being pushed to be- she wants to be a dramatic fun loving kid who gets to save people’s lives, and to be a hero, but not the ruthless dictator her caretaker wants her to be.

It’s hard to discuss classes since there’s no canon information on them unfortunately, but I do think there’s something to be said for the history of pages serving knights and how that makes it seem more likely a page would be passive over active, but I do think Page could probably serve her well either way. But I’m honestly leaning more Maid, because I do think she needs an active class in her pocket and she might just need the billowing Force of maidhood behind her, that Snap, That Push To Change. Become One With The Void, Dive Into The Ocean, Become The Mystery, Be The Cryptid. Land: Land of Mirage and Lockets; it’s a surreal land with lavender soil and clouds, and strange trees with blood red leaves and heart lockets hanging from them. Each of the lockets contain the essence of a desire- in addition, the mirages off in the distance beckon with things that are desirable to the viewer- for example, heroism. The consorts are doves, who flit about speaking… I’m not sure yet. but they speak something to eachother, some sort of secret? I think? I need help with this bit.

Void players are secret-keepers, so I think even with my void recommendation this could continue well. Maybe the doves just whisper rumors/instructions and her quest is to not obsess over which is true while also learning how not to fall for every single bit of “advice” that is given to her.

Well, I’m finally done, I’m sorry this is so long!! please feel free to take your time ^u^

Hey, sometimes you’ve got a lot to say about a character! I hope I was able to help with the problems you were having. Thank you for the submission!

-CD

#purpleblood #fan planet #submission #review #cd review #clownpieceoffreedom #elapea serpen #elapea #serpen

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