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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 5 years ago

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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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songbirdsingingthings · 4 years ago

Text

Traditions - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO KOHEI HORIKOSHI

DAY THREE OF 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS - 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST

What were you supposed to get the boy who could have anything he wanted? That was the question that had been plaguing your mind for the entirety of November and now December. Shouto Todoroki, your loving and caring boyfriend, was the hardest person you had ever shopped for in your life. Even Momo was easier to shop for - she actually really liked homemade baked goods since when she’s training she has to eat a ton of processed stuff. You were currently at the mall, picking up things for the rest of your friends with Shouto, while also trying to scope out what interests him in certain stores.

“So who’s next?” He asks as you scroll through the list on your phone.

“Hmm… I think Midoriya.” You respond, looking around to see all of the stores surrounding you. A certain one grasps your attention with the bright yellow, blue, and red colors. Shouto follows your gaze and he gives you a small smile as it lands on the huge All Might themed store.

“Well you're definitely gonna find something in there.” He chuckles, gently tugging your hand as the two of you walk towards the door.

You had finally left the mall with several bags being carried by the both of you, but you still had no clue what to get for your boyfriend. After Shouto dropped off the bags in your door and gave you a quick kiss goodbye - he apparently had some important business to attend to - you decided enough was enough. You scroll through the contacts on your phone to find Fuyumi, Shouto’s older sister, and press the call button. You’re only able to hold it to your ear for a few seconds before she answers.

“Y/N! How are you?” Fuyumi’s sweet voice filtered through your phone.

“I’m good, how are you?” You ask politely, making your way to sit down on your bed.

“Fine, just doing some stuff around the house. I’m glad you called though, I haven’t been able to talk with you for a while.” You heard some clinks and clatters in the background and quickly assumed she was doing the dishes.

“Oh, no problem! I actually have a question if you’re not too busy.” You say, letting your shoulder press your phone to your ear so you could start taking all of your purchases out of their bags.

“I’ve got time, shoot away!” She says cheerily, causing a smile to grace your face.

“It’s about Shouto-”

“What about Shouto?” A deep but happy voice piped up through your phone.

“Hi Natsuo!” You greet, smoothing the blouse you got for Ochaco out.

“Hey kiddo! What’s up?” You could almost feel his wide grin radiating through your screen.

“Was asking Fuyumi a question, but you can answer it as well. I wanted to know what kind of stuff you and Shouto did when you were younger around the holidays to get an idea of what he likes to do. I was trying to find something to get him for Christmas, but I feel like if he wanted anything he would have already gotten it, so I want to do something with him.”

“Uhmm…” You hear both of them exchange awkward words, so you pipe up instead.

“I mean my brother and I would have gingerbread house competitions, go ice skating, and have movie marathons, but I don’t really know if that’s something Shouto would be into .” You say, opening the last of your bags which contained a snow globe with a polar bear cub in it for Koda.

“Y/N, uh… Shouto’s never really done any of that before.” Natsuo says. You frown a bit, but shake your head.

“Oh - is there anything your family does especially for the holidays? I mean I know your dynamic is a bit… different than others, but I’m sure you found a way to celebrate...right?” You asked warily.

“That’s a really sweet thought but umm… Dad didn’t really let us mingle, so he’s never experienced any usual holiday activities. I mean he celebrated with us, don’t get me wrong, but we never really got to do fun things as siblings.” Your jaw drops. You remember playing with your brother in the snow being one of the happiest memories during the holidays and you can’t believe Endeavor didn’t grant Shouto that. All of a sudden, a lightbulb seemed to come to life above your head and a grin replaced your frown.

“Thank you! Thank you so much for telling me, I know what to do!” You exclaim, clasping your hands together. You bid adieu to your boyfriend’s siblings and immediately start planning.

“Y/N, I don’t understand what’s going on. Why did you call me out here?” All bundled up in a puffy jacket that made him look even cuter than ever, snow pants, and a pompom beanie. Shouto looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“We are going to have the best day ever.” You state, grabbing his gloved hands in yours. “We’re going to make a snowman, then we’re gonna bake some cookies, maybe make some hot cocoa, and watch some Christmas movies.”

“W-what?” He manages, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Merry Christmas! I was trying to think of something to get you, but I kept coming up with blanks. So, I figured we should celebrate our first Christmas together by implementing some solid traditions.” You saw his shocked expression turn into one of somewhat embarrassment as he looked to the side.

“Y/N, your idea sounds great, but I’ve never done those activities before. What happens if I mess them up?” Concern flickers across his eyes, but you give him a reassuring smile and cup his cheek with your mittened hand.

“It’s perfectly fine if you ‘mess them up’, even though I’m sure you won’t. These activities are specifically designed to be fun, stress free things to do, okay?” Shouto nods and gives you a small smile. You give him a quick kiss and your day of fun begins.

Building a snowman was certainly a feat. You had to teach Shouto how to roll the snow to create bigger bases than the average snowball, which completely enthralled him. It was cute to see him so excited about how the snow managed to get that big, and he even put a little spin on the snowman, creating a “frozen pond” right next to him and an ice fishing rod so that he could go fishing.

Next was the cookies. Even though he really hadn’t cooked that much in his life, like many things, your boyfriend picked it up quite quickly. The two of you would perform a quiet dance in the kitchen, dropping two sticks of butter in one bowl and pouring a cup of sugar in another. What Shouto didn’t know, however, was flour’s tendency to create a mini explosion. His face when it poofed up in his face was priceless. You laughed so hard your stomach hurt which only made Shouto take some more flour and throw it on you so you were matching.

Finally, you made it to the end of the day. Both of you were cuddled up on your bed in your dorm watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Your back was pressed up against his chest and his arms were around yours, his left hand drawing soft lines on your skin, heat following his finger tips. You were so happy. Shouto really looked just ecstatic for the entire day, enjoying every activity you came up and even adding his own personal spin to them. You were so engrossed in those happy memories from earlier in the day that you didn’t hear Shouto say your name.

“Y/N,” he says in a velvety voice, shaking you a little to gain your attention.

“Hmm?” You hum in response, telling him that you were listening.

“I have something for you.” You turn around to look at him and you gasp with delight. In his hands dangled the daintiest little locket you had ever seen. It was a pretty silver oval with the tiniest little hinge on its side.

“May I?” You ask, motioning to open it. He gives you a soft smile and nods. You open it very carefully and you melt at what you see inside. It was your initials next to his with a heart outline.

“I know you don’t like obvious jewelry so I didn’t go for the heart locket, but I still wanted to get the meaning across. Do you like-” You cut him off with a searing kiss. You cup both of his cheeks in your hands and press him close to you.

“I love it, Sho. Thank you so, so much.” He grins at you and opens the clasp.

“Do you want me to put it on for you?” He asks. You nod quickly and turn your head back around. His hand sweeps your hair to one side and swings the necklace around your neck so that the clasp was in the back. His fingers danced lightly across the back of your neck, sending a tingle down your spine. He closes the little clasp and smooths it out. You reach up to touch the little locket and smile, turning back around to look at him.

“To new traditions,” you toast, arms wrapping around his neck.

“To new traditions.”

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bonshaquitalafawndreeah · 4 years ago

Text

A bandwagoner’s ode to the Cubs

Let’s get one thing straight right away: I am absolutely not a sports fan. I hated sports most of my life because they made me feel excluded. I couldn’t catch or throw a ball or comprehend strategy. I was consistently picked last in gym class and then shunned by my classmates for making them lose a game of flag football. This made me a very bitter, non participatory person. I’m that basic betch who jokes about a football game interrupting the Beyoncé concert during the super bowl. I declare that I wish both teams could lose when the Bears play the Packers and I’m forced to watch. I don’t even join in at cookouts when people start playing bags. (And I’m sure by now you’re thinking, “wow, you must be fun at parties.”)

I am NOT a fan of sports, but I am a fan of the Chicago Cubs.

Or at least I’m something adjacent to being a fan. (I am somewhere in the “ballpark” if you will.) Is it fair to lump me in with people who bleed Cubbie Blue and can recite rosters from the 90’s? God no! I am a casual admirer at best and although I come from a long line of Cub fans I admittedly payed zero attention to the sport until the 2016 World Series. You could say I’m a bandwagoner but I’m even worse than that. Even after they won the first World Series in 108 years I was still not super interested in sitting through a game. It wasn’t until my husband dragged me to Wrigley under the guise of “spending a day together in the city” that I realized there’s something truly magical about the experience.

Maybe I also happened to be in a magical season of life. We were newlyweds and the World Series win coincided with our honeymoon. My husband wore a Cubs cap to every bar and restaurant and we were congratulated by every person we met. People who had never even been to Illinois were so happy and excited for us. I was buzzing with the kind of pride you feel when something newsworthy happens in your hometown.

I grew up two hours away from Chicago, but moved to the suburbs around 2016. During that chapter, it felt like the entire world was opening up for me and everything was exciting. I had just gotten the job I used to dream about and had coworkers that would quickly start to feel like family. On weekends David and I would take the train from Glen Ellyn to the city. As I sipped a coffee and watched the scenery roll by I couldn’t believe my luck. A friendless little girl from the boonies had found a little community she could thrive in, and it was all next door to one of the world’s greatest cities.

That first Cubs game felt like a fairy tale. I knew I would enjoy drinking beer and eating a hot dog, but I planned on being bored by the rest of it. I didn’t expect to immediately fall in love with the charm of Wrigleyville. Everyone in the stadium was twinkle-in-their-eyes friendly. The blooper reels were cute and funny. Anthony Rizzo stepped to the plate while “Bad Blood” by Taylor Swift blasted and won my heart forever. I developed a genuine investment in the outcome of the game and cheered and groaned with gusto. I somehow got to watch them win that day and we jumped up and down and sang “go Cubs go” as though we had accomplished something incredible. As we left our seats I was grinning from ear to ear like a little kid. We stopped for drinks at the Cubbie Bear and I told David I had just accidentally discovered my favorite thing to do in Chicago.

Over the years we went to a few more games. Sometimes we went alone. Other times we brought David’s family. Once we dragged along a good friend who was moving across the country the next day, and another who had just finished an overnight shift. Once we went in early April and it was so cold and rainy that I bought a souvenir blanket for $50. I wore it around my shoulders like a cape in every place we stopped. For the very first time, I understood why people passionately love and defend their teams.

In 2019 we didn’t go to any games because my mental health took a nosedive. I was having panic attacks daily and for whatever reason they were most severe when I was in a car, or basically any place where I couldn’t step away “if I really needed to.” I was pretty scary to be around. I spent the summer going to therapy and sitting around at home waiting to snap out of it. The thought of surviving a train ride or a day in a packed stadium made me queasy.

But I always said that the first thing I wanted to do when I started feeling better was go back to Wrigley. I knew that this extra special era for the Cubs would be short-lived. The current team was really entertaining to watch. They had star power that would be hard to replace and they probably wouldn’t stick around forever. I could never love baseball for stats and numbers and performance metrics. I loved the feeling of joy that these players brought.

At the start of 2020 I was doing so much better and was really excited to get back out there. I couldn’t wait to do all the things that I had caused us to miss. And then, as you know... the rest of 2020 happened.

Going to a game was at the top of my summer 2021 bucket list. But work, birthdays, and family kept pushing it back. We were finally supposed to go to a game in mid-July and it was rained out and rescheduled for September.

And this past weekend the entire core of the Cubs was traded away to other teams. Never in a hundred million trillion years did I expect to be the person to care about this, but I’ve been in mourning all weekend.

For this fair-weather fan, Javy, KB, And Rizzo made sports feel approachable and fun. As someone who DOES NOT SPORT at all, I never believed that I deserved a place in that world, but I felt welcome in the little world they created. The absence of their personalities is going to hurt. A big part of me wonders If I’m better off leaving Wrigley behind me, a rose colored memory of being young and happy in my favorite city and believing that magical things can last forever.

I’m sure we’ll go back for a game again some day. But who knows who will be on the roster then? Or if we’ll have a baby in tow. It’ll be a far cry from stacking towers out of our empty beer cups, swooning over Kris Bryant, and knowing that you have all the time in the world to recreate the fun again and again.

So to wrap this thing up in a way that makes it all about meeeeeee...

The disbanding of this group feels deeply personal. Like I’m leaving behind a slightly more innocent chapter, where I could believe my city and my team were the very best and always would be. And just as they’re moving on to new and necessary adventures, my next chapter will likely be something much more realistic and adult.

But it was sure fun while it lasted.

#chicago cubs #chicago

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jaskierswolf · 5 years ago

Text

The Grass is Greener Pt.1/3

Summary: Jaskier's mother is coming to stay and his garden is an absolute mess and his lawn mower has seen better days... luckily for him his ridiculously hot neighbour is there to lend a hand.

Geraskier

CW: Shitty parents being shitty.

(Prompted by @alwenarin and based on this post by @infinite-mirrors)

________

Jaskier stared forlornly out at his garden. His mother was due to come over on her yearly visit and the next few days of his life were going to be hell. His mother was the sort to blast into his life like a fucking tornado, pull apart everything that he had built for himself and leave him broken, shattered into a thousand shards of glass. He wasn’t even sure why he still let her in, probably some childhood trauma that meant he was desperate to please her, to make her proud, but what did he know? He wasn’t a therapist, much to her displeasure. Anything would have been better in her eyes than a musician and occasional bartender.

He didn’t make much money. His band hadn’t taken off yet and only really had a small but dedicated following online that donated pocket money in exchange for small previews of new tracks or little poems that could be given to lovers or in greetings cards. Most of his rent was paid for in the tips he made at the bar. He was lucky to have the house at all really. He shared it with his housemates: Priscilla, his bandmate and ex, Essi, her younger sister, Valdo Marx, his former schoolmate, professional rival and absolutely twat face who lurked in his attic room and never really came out to talk to them, and last but not least, Regis, a kind scholarly type who had been living in the house before the other rooms had become available and most importantly made excellent homemade gin.

Said housemates had agreed to fuck off for the weekend so he could pretend that the house was his in a last ditched attempt win over his mother.

Of course, none of them had helped to tidy up before leaving and he’d spent the last twenty-four hours deep cleaning the house, and bolting the door to Regis’s bathroom shut. The gin in the bathtub wasn’t ready to bottle yet and he wasn’t exactly going to drain the tub of his elixir. He’d moved the furniture in his friend’s rooms around enough to make it look like they weren’t extra bedrooms, more… rooms that just happened to have beds in case he had company. Priscilla’s room now resembled a music room, Essi’s room had been turned into a makeshift study, Valdo’s he’d left a mess and claimed it was just an attic, and Regis’s room was sort of a library if you squinted hard enough.

That just left the garden.

“Bollocks!” He moaned.

None of them really cared much about the garden, apart from the box down the end which housed Regis’s herb garden for cooking. The rest of the garden a mess. The grass was practically a wild meadow filled with weeds. He quite liked it. He enjoyed looking at the dandelions, daisies and buttercups but his mother would have a fit.

Where was he even going to start?

Lawnmower. They must have one. He stumbled through his back door onto the patio and made his way to the shed that honestly barely lived up to its name. It was falling apart and leaked horrendously, but luckily inside was one rusty looking lawnmower.

“Bingo!” He grinned and pulled the mower out of the shed. It was heavier than it looked but luckily Jaskier was also stronger than he looked. Even so he wasn’t entirely how he was going to start the damn thing.

Perhaps Geralt would know…

Fuck.

Geralt.

Geralt had just adopted a newborn baby. Her name was Ciri. Most of the time Geralt just called her ‘Cub’ which Jaskier found to be incredibly endearing, a fact that had nothing to do with his teensy little crush on the mechanic.

He pulled up Geralt’s number in his phone. He’d been delighted when Geralt had given him his number, yes maybe it was because Jaskier kept turning up at Geralt’s doorstep after shifts at work because he’d forgotten his keys and none of his bastard housemates were answering the door and Geralt just happened to have a spare key, but the main thing is he had Geralt’s number.

After that they’d conversed a few times over text. Mostly if one of them was running to the shops and wanted to know if the other needed anything. Occasionally Geralt would text to ask Jaskier if he could watch Ciri for a short while if Geralt needed to leave the house. Once Geralt had even given him a lift to work because Jaskier’s bike had gotten a flat tire and he didn’t have enough time to walk all the way to the bar. So they weren’t exactly strangers but he wouldn’t really call them friends.

In fact Geralt was still listed as Hot Neighbour in his phone. He meant to change it, it was just that you couldn’t argue with the truth. Geralt was his hot neighbour.

J —Hey Geralt! Is it ok if I mow my lawn? I don’t want to wake Ciri if she’s asleep. :)

He stared at his phone intently until about an eternity later, Geralt replied.

G — The child must not be an obstacle.

Jaskier snorted as he read the response. He read it aloud a couple of times trying to mimic Geralt’s rough husky voice and managed to give himself the giggles.

His phone buzzed again.

G — I can hear you laughing at me.

“Oh shit!” He almost dropped his phone and his cheeks felt like they were on fire. “Sorry Geralt!” He called into the air.

G— Hmm.

Jaskier scoffed. Who text back “Hmm”? And why did Jaskier still find that so attractive?

But never mind that! He had the green light. Operation Finally Make His Mother Proud, or FMHMP for short, and yes you could absolutely say that if you tried hard enough, was go! He was going to mow the lawn like a proper adult!

He tried for about six years to turn the mower on but without any success. He kicked the lawnmower in frustration and the whole damned thing fell apart.

“Fuck it!” He yelled as he hopped about on his good foot that hadn’t been battered by lawnmower.

He sulked back into the house and flopped down dramatically on the sofa. It was over. His mother was going to hate him and he would die as a disgrace to the Pankratz name and the Lettenhove estate.

He was half way through his pity party when the doorbell rang. He grabbed his phone to check the time. Strange, his mother wasn’t due for another three hours.

“What the fuck?” He mused and padded over to the door. To his surprise Geralt was standing on his doorstep with Ciri tucked safely into a baby sling on his chest and behind him was a shiny lawnmower. “Ah. Geralt!” He grinned.

Geralt turned to the lawnmower and back to him. “Thought you might need some help.”

Jaskier blushed. “Right. Yes. Of course. Come on in!” He stood back to let Geralt through. “Oh, actually do you want to come round the side gate? The lawnmower probably shouldn’t come through the house. I’ve just cleaned up.”

Geralt grunted but followed Jaskier around the side of the house and into the back garden.

“What the fuck, Jaskier?” He grumbled when he saw the state of the lawn. “I thought you said you were mowing the lawn, not trying to find it!”

“Ah, yes, well. That is an excellent point.” Jaskier stammered, pulling at the hem of his shirt nervously. “You see my mother is visiting.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Your mother, how old are you? Twelve?”

Jaskier gaped at his neighbour. “Geralt!” He whined. “I’m twenty-nine! Mother is just a cow.”

“Hmm. Fine. Let’s do this.” Geralt pulled Ciri gently out of her sling and passed her to Jaskier. “Hold her. I need to grab her stuff. This will take longer than I thought.”

“Oh hang on!” Jaskier called after Geralt but it was too late and Ciri began to cry. “Umm. There there.” He cooed and rocked her gently. “Shall I sing you a lullaby, cub?”

She didn’t answer, babies rarely did, so he decided a lullaby would be fine and began to sing in hushed tones as he rocked her in his arms. Geralt wasn’t long but he seemed surprise to come back to Jaskier rocking his daughter to sleep in his arms.

“Hmm. She likes you.” Geralt noted.

He was carrying Ciri’s car seat and a bag was slung over his shoulder. In his other hand was a large electric contraption with some nasty blades at the end. He dumped the scary looking monster and placed the travel cot on the patio table. Once Ciri was safely asleep they got to work.

Or more accurately, Geralt got to work. Jaskier mostly just watched and made sure Geralt had all the refreshments he needed. He also kept the conversation going by listing all the grievances his mother had with him from her last visit, Geralt hummed and grunted but didn’t offer much in return but it didn’t matter. Jaskier was more than capable of holding an entire conversation by himself.

“And then she starts wittering on about how my sister has a perfect husband and a darling little angel.” Jaskier moaned. “So of course then it’s ‘Julian why don’t you have a wife?’”

“Julian?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier glared at his neighbour. “Don’t ever call me that, I beg of you.”

Geralt shrugged. “I won’t. Just asking.”

“And I tell her, for the hundredth time, to say partner or spouse or lover or you know… not gender specific because she knows! Geralt! She knows. I don’t know how many times I have to tell her.” Jaskier sighed. “Oh, umm I’m bisexual just to give you some context there.”

Geralt nodded. “Right.”

“So of course she starts complaining that I always have to make everything gay, and I’m like… ‘Mother, I am gay!’” Jaskier announced with wide arms.

Geralt looked up at him, pausing halfway down the lawn that was now starting to resemble a lawn. “So why not tell her you’re seeing someone?” He asked. “Solve both problems if you say it’s a guy.”

Jaskier put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. “Yeah.” He scoffed. “Until she asks to meet him.”

Geralt shrugged. “I could do it.”

Jaskier’s heart jumped in his chest. “You what? Geralt!”

“My ex has been bothering me about finding someone.” He grumbled. “Two birds, One stone.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at his insanely hot neighbour who was now apparently suggesting they… fake date??

“What exactly are you suggesting here?” Jaskier asked slowly. “You pretend to be my boyfriend for my mother’s visit and we what? Send a few photos to your ex to prove you’re moving on?”

Geralt smirked. “As long as you promise not to fall in love with me.”

Jaskier’s jaw dropped.

Well fuck. _______

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt/jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #dad geralt #surprise fake dating #I could be persuaded to write a second part #let me know if you want part 2 #Update there will now be three parts #ask and you shall receive #the grass is greener

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axe-trio-commanders · 4 years ago

Text

OC Interview: Zori Sunblade

Draw (or use an old drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!

INTRODUCTION

Can you introduce yourself?

"That, uh... depends- this isn’t going on public record, right? I mean- not immediately?” [redacted] “Okay, yeah, after my death is... well- no, maybe Seremnis’ death. Or whenever she wants- okay, give it to her after my death and she’ll- yeah. Okay.” Shuffling and creaking of leather. “Zori Sunblade, member of the Sun warband, magister of the priory, pact commander by title, uh... oh- leader of Dragon’s Watch. And uh. Charr. Ranger. Uhm... hi?”

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

“...Uh... I think...” mumbled “...burn me I hope I remember the meaning of these right, been a while-” regular voice “Uh- she/her... lady friends, so far, and- actually been married for a while.” [She shows of a ring around her left-hand ring finger. Its gem gives off a faint glow.] “Still sort-of figuring out what that means, but I think I’ve got most of it down.”

Where and when were you born?

"...I, uh... hm. Lend me some paper and quill?” [Paper and quill is lent.] “...So it’s... 34, and that was... 25, when I was...” [She nods and taps the pen affirmatively on the paper.] “1306 AE, at, uh... all I remember or have been told is growing up in a fahrar around Rin.”

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

“That depends. I can snipe pretty good with a longbow, but torch and axe are my go-to for close range... sometimes a dagger if I need to be a bit less conspicuous.”

Lastly, are you happy?

“...Well, that uh. That escalated quickly, huh?” laugh “Ah... sometimes. Sometimes... it’s- I guess I don’t clearly remember now if it’s harder than it used to be, but... I’m working on it.”

FAMILY AND FRIENDS

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

“Dragon’s Watch is my family. As is my warband, Aurene... Canach’s in there somewhere, too. It’s... I dunno. Some of them... still look up to me, I guess, after everything- some of them know me to well, some of them... I don’t know. Warband’s... complicated, right now, and I’ll probably always worry about Aurene... the people that know the most want to help, I know they do, it’s just... it’s hard to believe things will get better sometimes.” laugh “Probably not the best thing to hear from the charr you’ve put in charge of saving Tyria for the past nine years, huh?”

Have you ever ran away from home?

“...I... I don’t know. Maybe that’s what I’m doing now- burn me, I... really don’t think I can go back to the legions now, regardless of if things are changing or not. Don’t really think there’s been another... place I’ve ever called home.”

Would you consider marriage or having children?

“I mean- kinda too late to have second thoughts on marriage, huh? Ah, not that I would. I don’t think I’d want to live without her at this point, being honest...” Tapping of claws “...Cubs, though... I don’t know. Not now, definitely. If I’m going to be taking care of cubs, It’s not going to be at a time where I can’t do it myself. Be there for them. Burn me, I’ve had far too many examples of what happens when you don’t.” Pause “...Have sometimes fantasized about a quiet house somewhere in the woods, though. Whenever the disaster’s over.”

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

“...Why would you call them your friends if...? No, if that was even a question. I’ve made it very clear who I hate, and... burn me, I guess... yeah, the only one who isn’t dead is Phlunt. And... Bengar, probably. Not sure if he’s, uh. Stable, right now? Not- I mean I don’t go out and murder whoever annoys me, that’s not- it’s a short list. It’s a very short list. I’m not going to murder someone over, like... burnt toast or something. That sort of thing is reserved for endangering my family.”

Which friend knows everything about you?

“...I- mm... I... some of them know more than others. Definitely, people in my family know more than people outside of it- ...burn me, I... I think, alltogether, if everyone I knew pooled knowledge they’d have everything, but... not any one. It’s... it’s habit, I guess.”

ASKED BY FANS

“Please tell me you’ve filtered these beforehand.”

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

"Okay, good start, uh... I mean, I’ve been through the fahrar, obviously, and I’m also a priory magister- I learned a lot more about the... being literate there, but at this point in my life I’m writing-fluent in New Krytan, old charr pathfinding symbols, ancient orrian... in the process of learning a couple others, too. Can’t hurt.”

The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

Snort “I’m not allowed to die. I mean- burn me, what else am I supposed to take away from the fact that I died- actually went-to-the-mists died, and got told by the messenger of a human god that I, of all people, could go back? Had to, in fact? ...Burn me, I should probably be happy about that, but. Implication’s aren’t great there.”

What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

“...That I’m... that there are people who’d miss me. Not- not miss the commander, but... I expected people would- mourn, write songs or whatever once I actually kicked the bucket, but it’s all a bit... hollow, when most of them don’t even know my name- and to some degree, that’s purposeful. They can- they can mourn the role I filled, the stuff I did, that’s fine, that’s not going to destroy them, not going to hurt for more than a... week, maybe. And everyone else- even the closest people- burn me I’m supposed to be dead. Not only was I, but there’s no- there’s no logical reason I’ve survived all this. Gods and Elder dragons have wanted me dead- entire factions, powerful people- I’m not allowed to die by- by fate, or whatever, but nothing else in Tyria wants me here, so I- you expect people to expect it, at least. To be prepared for it. I want them to be, for their own sake, but...” long sigh “...I... tried to get my warband to leave. Now that they knew... where I’ve been. What I’ve been doing, and... it really shouldn’t have been such a shock that they were worried about me. That... that they, and... everyone who knows how bad it’s gotten wants me to get... better. That I even have that option.”

Do you have mental health or physical issues?

quiet “...I don’t think any of us came out of this unscathed.”

What is your current main goal?

“...I think... I think I will just- just focus on getting better, now. I- burn me, it’s going to give me anxiety like nothing else to leave this to anyone, but I’ve- ...guess this is the first I’ll say it outside of closed circles, but I... I think I’m giving up the title of commander. I don’t think- that’s not going to mean I’m not around, I’m... probably not even leaving Dragon’s Watch, but... it’s time to hang the regalia up, at least. Leave the final say to someone else.” Laugh “Definitely not gonna miss the politics. May I never have to see Phlunt’s face again.”

CHOICES

Drink or food?

“...Oh, the hard questions are over now? Er- sort of? ...I mean, you need both to... live, so... Hm. I mean- I’ve had some really good food, Dragon’s Watch has one of the best chefs, but- if you’ve ever had an entire jug of water past the height of the moon, you know exactly my dilemma here.

Cats or dogs?

“This is what we call a ‘false dichotomy’. Both. Duh.”

Early bird or night owl?

“...I, uh. I’m not sure I’ve had a steady sleep schedule, for... five? Years? I guess if you do want to wake me up without either food or news of immediate disaster that needs fixing, I might consider physical harm, so... whichever one that is.”

Optimist or pessimist?

“That depends. On the subject of how good today’s food will be? Optimist. On Phlunt ever caring for anything other than his own pride and wellbeing? Pessimist.”

Sassy or sarcastic?

“...There’s a difference? Everyone I’ve met has both or neither.”

HAVE YOU EVER-

-been caught sneaking out?

“Nope. I was raised Ash, and I was good at it.”

-broke a bone?

“...I... I don’t think I have, actually. Probably got just about every other possible injury, but... not that yet.”

-received flowers?

“...I, uh. Eheh... The, uhm. The first time my, uh- now-wife sent me flowers, I... didn’t know what they were for? And sort of. Ate them.” pause “...They were... definitely not meant to be eaten. They were anonymous- she told me about it later- so I thought someone was trying to poison me until a close friend explained what getting flowers meant.” pause “...Burn me, I have no idea how long she was trying to flirt with me until I managed to catch on.”

-ghosted someone?

“...Have I mentioned the time I burned to death?”

-pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

“...Wait, that’s- that’s a thing? I could have been telling terrible, incomprehensible jokes this whole time and I have no way to even know?! I- ...no, I haven’t, I guess. I just sort of... sit there confused...”

“...That’s the last one? Really? Sort of an awkward way to end it. Well, uh... remember the release protocol we agreed upon. Whole buncha people are gonna be upset if you don’t- most of which know how to hide bodies. Not... not sure why I know so many of that type of people, to be honest with you.”

#zori sunblade #oc interview #icebrood saga spoilers #path of fire spoilers #yes i did do the math on those years. yes i am making this cannon.#yes zori is 28 years old as the current story stands #there's a good reason most of the charr she knows think of her as a cub

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elisaphoenix13 · 5 years ago

Text

Open Home, Open Arms

Stephen's Mama Bear senses tingles before the teenagers even stepped off of the elevator. Someone was upset and he soon discovered that it was Cassie when the elevator doors opened. He would have gotten up to approach her to make sure she was okay, but Valerie was currently in his lap and eating off of his plate full of veggie sticks. It had turned into a norm for him. He would make himself a snack and sit at the table with a book while he munched, and then suddenly have a lapful of his youngest daughter so she could eat off his plate. He was just glad that she ate what she took and didn't put it back on his plate.

"Cassie? What's wrong?" The sorcerer asks and the girl bites her lip.

Peter seemed to have been comforting her as they stepped off the elevator, and when they did, that was when Stephen noticed that it wasn't just the four usual kids returning from school. Ned and MJ were visiting as well. Cassie motions to Peter that she was okay, and the spiderling hesitates before letting her walk over to Stephen while he and Harley went up to Peter's room with Ned and MJ. Diana went to her usual spot at the coffee table to do her homework and then color or watch TV when she was finished. Stephen waits patiently as Cassie sits across from him at the table and they both smile when Valerie silently offers the older girl a carrot stick, which Cassie accepts with a quiet thank you.

"I think...I think one of my friends is living on the streets." Cassie finally elaborates before taking a bite of her carrot stick.

"Do you know why?" Stephen asks gently.

"He's in the system...and he's been having trouble with the latest family he was living with. He's come to school with bruises and-"

"Where is he now?" Stephen interrupts.

Not only was Mama Bear coming out, but the doctor in him was worried about Cassie's friend. From her explanation, her friend was very likely abused to the point that he risked living on the streets than to endure another night with his foster family. He was possibly malnourished, hurt, and who knew what else and Stephen wouldn't stand for it. His deeply ingrained maternal side wouldn't allow it.

"I think in an alley near my school." Cassie says quietly and Stephen stands with Valerie.

"Cub...will you be okay if I leave you with your brothers for a few minutes?" Stephen gently asks the little girl who nods in response. "I'll be right back." He assures Cassie as he takes his youngest daughter up to Peter's room. "Watch your sister for a few minutes please."

"Sure." Peter says and Harley pulls Valerie into his lap before the boys return their attention to the Lego set Ned brought. MJ was contently reading a book on Peter's bed.

"Thank you. Diana is down in the living room. Just keep an ear out for her. I'm leaving the door open so you can."

Stephen leaves the bedroom after another affirmation from the boys and walks back down the stairs to rejoin Cassie. When she gives him an approximate location to her friend's location, the sorcerer opens a gateway and they step through to search for him. Cassie leads the way to the alleyway she last saw her friend, and when they walk a few feet into it, Stephen stops completely in his tracks.

Not because of the black-haired teenager sitting against the alley wall and visibly doing his homework...but because of the magic Stephen could sense coming off the boy in waves. Did he harm his foster parents in an attempt to defend himself and ran once he revealed his powers? Or was his previous assumption correct?

"William?" Cassie calls softly and the boy startles before looking over at them.

"Cass? What are you doing here?" He asks timidly and with some suspicion.

"I brought Mo--er...Dr. Strange. I had a feeling you needed help."

"Are you here by choice or because you have to be?" Stephen asks William.

"Choice." He admits quietly. "We couldn't handle another day there."

"We?" Both Stephen and Cassie ask simultaneously and William nods.

"My twin brother is with me...well…getting food I think."

As if on cue, another boy with platinum blonde hair passes Cassie and Stephen to stand between them and William.

"I recognize Cassie. Who's the guy?"

Stephen clears his throat. "Doctor Strange. I could give you a handful of titles I hold at home but perhaps Sorcerer Supreme is the best one at this time. I protect this reality...and I can sense William's magic." The twins look at Stephen in surprise and then at Cassie. "She'll keep your secret. For now, would you two like to come stay in the Avengers Tower with us? You'll be safe there."

The twins look at each other and then William stands up with his and his brother's belongings. "...really?"

"As long as you obey the rules. There are a couple of magic users that can help you with your magic, including myself." Stephen turns to the other boy. "Do you have any abilities?"

"I can run really fast." He shrugs.

"What's your name?" The sorcerer asks.

"Thomas. My friends call me Tommy."

Stephen nods and turns to the side to open a gateway back to the tower. He motions the three teenagers through, Cassie being the first, and once they step through, Stephen follows them and closes the gateway behind them. The twins jump when Athena growls at them from the living room, but Stephen immediately calms her.

"It's alright. They're friends." He soothes and the wolf relaxes from her defensive stance to walk to Stephen's side.

"You have a wolf for a pet?" Thomas asks.

"Yes and no. She's more of a companion." Stephen explains as he pets Athena's head. "How does pizza sound? I already have two extra teenagers to feed and I don't really feel like cooking today. You can meet everyone at dinner."

Thomas and William nod and the sorcerer asks Friday to order the usual pizza order with a couple extra before directing the twins to the living room. The moment they sit on the couch and crack open their books again, Diana looks up from her spot on the floor and studies them curiously. Stephen would bet money that she could sense the magic coming off of William as well. She doesn't ask or say anything for the time being and Cassie turns to Stephen with a sigh of relief.

"Thanks Mom."

"You're welcome. I'll have to figure out where they'll stay after breaking the news to Tony." Stephen says with a smirk and Cassie giggles.

"Good luck with that. I'll go do my homework with them."

Stephen nods and takes the stairs up to Peter's room and smiles when he opens the door and Valerie immediately reaches for him. If he didn't immediately come get her after coming back home and she found out, she would be upset. She was very much the Mama's girl that everyone claimed her to be. Stephen picks her up and thanks the boys before informing the teens about pizza being in the way, then takes Valerie back down to clean up their vegetable plate they had left behind. He could always store the remaining pieces away and eat them at a later time.

"Hey Duchess." Tony greets when he steps off the elevator and joins his spouse in the kitchen. "I have some new upgrades for your suit so I'll need your--" Tony stops in his brief rambling when he looks toward the living room and sees the new teenagers with Cassie and Diana. "Who are they?"

"William and Thomas. They'll be staying in the tower."

Tony gives him a look. "Honey...you can't adopt every kid you come across."

"They were living in an alleyway. Besides, they have powers." Stephen huffs. "I was thinking of having them stay down with Wanda and Vision if they're okay with it."

"Oh...alright. I guess I'll have Pepper bring the proper paperwork so guardianship can be given to us." Tony scratches his goatee as he thinks to himself and Stephen smiles before kissing him.

"Thank you."

Pizza came not long after and the rest of the team were called up for a mandatory dinner so they could meet the twins. To no surprise, they were welcomed with open arms and quickly treated as family, and the twins visibly relaxed. Wanda and Vision agreed to let them stay in the extra rooms on their floor, and the witch was excited to have someone to cook for. Of course she periodically cooked for the whole team, but the idea that she could just cook for a couple of people every day was appealing. She liked cooking, just not always for the entire team.

"Okay...so rules." Tony starts and both Thomas and William look up at him from their slices of pizza. "One, what Mom says...goes. Thomas, no running in the tower unless it's down on the training floor and you're careful. William, no practicing magic unless you're with Mama Bear, Wanda, or Loki." When he gets nods from the twins, he continues. "No pissing off the gods, especially Quill. It's a rule that Harley doesn't seem to follow."

Said teen blinks from his occasional glances at William and looks up at his father. "Huh?"

"Nothing. Eat your food Spudicus."

Harley grumbles at the nickname and returns to eating his dinner as Tony lists off the remaining rules to the twins. Stephen noted the glances (and at one point staring) that Harley gave William, but said nothing. He wasn't quite sure if it was infatuation or just plain curiosity yet. When dinner was eaten, Stephen had Wanda and Vision take the twins downstairs to get accommodated with the promise that he would ask Friday to order them anything they needed. He also told Thomas and William that they could come up whenever they wanted whether it was to ask Tony or Stephen a question or simply just to hang out, whether it would be with their kids or not.

Now all Stephen had to do was give them a physical, but that could wait for a little bit so they could get settled.

"You really are a Mama Bear." Tony mutters as he wraps an arm around Stephen's shoulders after they sit on the couch.

"The doctor made the decision too." The sorcerer chuckles and their kids turn on a movie.

"We should take them to the lake house sometime. Especially so Thomas can actually run around freely." Peter says and the parents nod.

"I think we're overdue for a barbeque anyway. It can be a welcome to our functioning, dysfunctional family party." Tony answers with a chuckle.

"Do not make a game out of annoying Quill." Stephen warns with a pointed look at Harley who rolls his eyes.

"It's not a game Mom. I'm just testing my potato gun. It's surprise testing!"

"No."

The oldest teen huffs. "You suck the fun out of everything."

"That's what moms do." Stephen responds with a smirk.

#supremefamily #mama bear stephen strange #mama bear au #billy kaplan #tommy shepherd #cassie lang #tony stark #ironstrange

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rhnuzlocke · 6 years ago

Photo

Chapter Four: Child of the Moon

The car rumbled softly into a space behind the Petalburg Gym, and Senri climbed out of the driver’s side. Ren paused for a moment to marvel at the solar parking lot and scuff her new boot against its textured glass surface. They were still stiff, and she was not looking forward to how sore her feet would be by the end of the day, but she liked the look and weight of them.

Kenta emerged from his ball, and Tāraki bounced excitedly beside the Ursaring as they walked around to the front. The hulking pokemon yawned, then murmured some doubtless sage advice from his own journey with her father. Tāraki listed with unusually rapt attention, eyes glued to Kenta’s grizzled muzzle. She was going to miss him.

Ren wondered if everyone was in yet and how long this would take. Barry was already at the front desk settling in, and Lei walked out of the changing rooms with their Persian.

“It feels like you just got here, and you’re already on your way!” they complained, but they were smiling. “Are we finally gonna battle when you come back for the badge?”

“Depends how much you train,” Ren shot back with a grin.

Lei laughed. “She’s your daughter alright!”

“That she is.” Senri ruffled her hair. She almost threw him but shoved back the impulse and brushed him off instead. “I’ll go get your things.”

He went back, and a few of the other trainers offered her congratulations and goodbyes. Kenta nudged her when Barry left for the bathroom.

“I’ll be careful,” she told him.

“You are careful,” he said with a chuff.

There was a lot she wanted to say to him, but for a long moment nothing came to the surface. Then something old surged up from the depths, a memory she thought she had forgotten. “I—I’m sorry it took so long.”

“We evolve in our own time, little cub. I don’t hold you to the things you said when you were cave-bound. I’m just glad to see you smiling again—feel the warmth pour out of you like a campfire. I’m grateful for every day you live and every step I see you take. Doesn’t matter the direction.”

Ren dropped to her knees and slung her arms around his neck, burying her face in his soft, thick fur. He put an arm around her, and she was safe again.

“Watashi wa Kenta-sensei ni hibi to gyōseki karite iru subete.”

“I have no regrets,” he returned and hugged her tighter.

“Kenta talks even less than Otōsan but he always knows what to say. I was lucky to have so many parents.”

They have certainly been a formative—and positive—influence.

At last, she dried her eyes and let go of him. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Good. Ready to say goodbye to the others?”

Ren smiled. “Yeah.”

Tāraki climbed back up her shoulder, and she scratched under his chin as they went back to see the rest of her father’s team. The old Tauros nearly knocked her off her feet as she came in only to be snatched to safety by the Ambipom. The Blissey and Kangaskhan nearly smothered her between them. Even the Vigoroth gave her a fond pat with his claws, only to sulk away when the others poked fun at him. The rest of the crew didn’t know her as well, and she couldn’t understand them, but they wished her well just the same.

Then it was time to leave, and she returned to the lobby with her father.

“Senri, Mr. Scott is here to see you,” Barry called as they entered. A middle-aged man and green-haired teen were waiting with him by the front desk.

“Good morning, Charles! Wally, how are you?” Senri greeted them.

“Very well, thank you, sir,” the boy answered. He was almost eerily pale and didn’t look terribly well but held himself with a certain kind of poise. It made him seem taller than he actually was. He was small—only as tall as Ren—and slighter with delicate features to match.

“Oh! Introductions! This is my daughter, Ren.”

Mr. Scott shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, young lady.”

“I should have introduced you two a while ago,” said Senri while Ren shook Wally’s hand. “I wasn’t thinking. Ah, maybe it’s just as well. When’s the big move? Soon, no?”

“In a week, sir.”

“Excellent. So, what can I help you with today?”

“I got my trainer license.”

“Wonderful, let’s see it!” Senri beamed. Wally fished it out of his shoulder bag and handed it over. “Look at that photo! I’m jealous. My first made me look like a convict,” Senri chuckled as he returned it. “Well then, let’s go in and meet the greenhorns. I’m sure you’ll find someone suitable.”

“Actually, sir,” Wally stopped him, “I was hoping for a loan. I want to catch my first—my service pokemon.”

“Oh?” Senri said as his mind worked. Then something flickered over his face, and he tried not to grin. Ren knew that look. “Very Good! Now let me see, who can I give you…” He pretended to think it over for a moment, and Ren figured what he was up to before he opened his mouth again. “Actually, Ren, would you mind helping Wally with this?”

“Sure.”

That was surprisingly quick.

“I knew he had to have a good reason. He was more excited than I was for me to set out.”

“Great! Ren has already caught three pokemon so you’re in good hands, Wally. I’ll see you two later.”

Senri ushered Mr. Scott further inside, throwing Ren a wink over his shoulder. Once they were gone, Wally shifted and wrang the shoulder strap of his bag between his hands.

“Thank you for helping me. I hope this isn’t getting in the way of anything.”

“It’s no problem,” she reassured him as they walked out. “I don’t have a schedule to keep.” He accepted that, and she gestured towards Route 102 since it was closest. They walked in silence for a bit, and he pulled his cardigan sleeves down over his hands.

“So, why do you want to catch a wild to have as your service pokemon, if it’s okay to ask? Are they expensive here?”

He wrung his bag strap again before answering. “Um, the truth is I don’t want a service pokemon—well I do. I’m going to live with my aunt and uncle, and my cousin is a breeder, so I could have gotten one from her—and I still might—but I want to be a trainer. I always have. But, um, I’ve never really been healthy, and my parents wouldn’t let me try.”

“So we’re actually out here to get you a battler?”

“Yeah,” he responded meekly and twisted his bag strap even more.

“Hey, don’t worry. I won’t Rattata you out or anything. But why not just take one of Otōsan’s trainees or your cousin’s pokemon and battle them?”

He reached up and held the carved wood pendant hanging around his neck and rubbed at it with his thumb. “My parents have a point. I don’t know if I can be a real trainer, so I set myself a test of sorts. If I can get a wild pokemon to respect me, show enough potential that they decide they want to be my partner, then maybe I can do it.”

Ren nodded, and Wally looked taken aback by her acceptance. “It makes sense to me. I mean, it does feel like you're being a little hard on yourself, but you’ve clearly given this a lot of thought. And I don’t think it’s strange. I didn’t really ‘catch’ any of the pokemon on my team. I asked them—except for Panahi, who asked me.”

“Oh wow! Really?”

“I think it’s more common in some regions. After all, we didn’t always have pokeballs.”

“I guess that’s true.”

Ren pulled a ball of her belt and held it out to him. He accepted it reverently and cradled it in his hand for a minute. She bumped her eyebrows at him, and a look of determination settled over his features. He threw the ball, Akahana popped out in a flash of red, and he caught it again.

“Oh, what a cool Poochyena! I haven’t seen one like her before.”

“She’s a Striped variant. Akahana, this is Wally. We are going to help him get his first pokemon.” Akahana scrutinized him for a moment and nodded. “She knows Growl, Tackle, and Thunder Fang.”

“Whoa! Really?”

“Yep! And Thunder Fang is great because—

“It has a chance of causing paralysis!”

“Exactly. And Aka here is good at it.” Ren gave him an appraising look. He must have practiced to toss and catch a pokeball that naturally. She remembered doing the same with a rubber band ball when she was young. “You sure know your stuff.”

“I sorta have a library on pokemon training at home. And I watched every battle video I could get my hands on since I couldn’t…” He trailed off.

“That’s great! Whatever pokemon you catch will be super lucky.” He smiled, and Ren grinned back. “What species did you have in mind?”

“I would really like a Ralts.” Ren pulled out her nav and looked them up since it wasn’t a species she had bumped across out with Kai. When she saw the first image, her eyes flickered to Wally’s hair . The resemblance was too close to be a coincidence. She shook her head and turned her attention back to the data. “Hmm, DexNav says they’re elusive. We could be out here a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Wally apologized again, visibly wilting.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. This is super important. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

Wally’s lips parted slightly in surprise, then a wobbly but radiant smile took over his face, and his pale blue eyes shimmered. “Thank you.”

“He shattered my heart with that smile.”

That’s very sentimental of you.

“Something you have yet to learn about me is that I am extremely and unbearably sentimental.”

And was that the only reason you helped him?

“No. I was angry at his parents. Otōsan’s encouragement was a lot sometimes, but he never told me that I couldn’t do something. And Okāsan has been there to support me at every tournament and performance for my entire life. It wasn’t fair. So I was determined to give him at least a little of what he was owed.”

Wally and Ren wandered around for hours. Ren consulted the Littleroot Labs data on her nav, Akahana used her nose, Tāraki climbed every tree, Iki peered around from the safety of Ren’s head, and Panahi scanned from above with her keen eyes.

They slowly spread out to cover more ground, though not so far as to lose track of each other. But Ren had Akahana stay with Wally just in case.

Ren was looking through some bushes when she heard coughing so severe that she went running to find Wally, but by the time she was in sight again, he had an inhaler over his nose and had quieted. He put it casually back in his bag, barely looking at what he was doing.

So it was his lungs—probably asthma or some kind of birth defect. That seemed like a particularly frightening ailment to Ren—to at any moment be unable to breathe, suffocate on nothing. It couldn't have been easy for him to grow up knowing each breath could be his last. But then again, maybe that made things simple. It would be a terrible waste not to do what he wanted, so here he was, risking himself on a dream, letting passion drive him.

Ren turned around without making herself known and kept searching.

At long last, Wally gave a shout. “I found one!”

Ren tried not to run, so as not to scare it off only to gasp when she caught sight of it. The pokemon was indeed a Ralts, but with glittering feathers and a bright blue helmet instead of green.

“Nanda, is that a shiny?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed weakly, clearly still trying to process it himself.

“Ralts!” Akahana called out to it before anyone could gather themselves, “this human is a trainer without a pokemon. If he can demonstrate his ability in battle to your satisfaction, would you be interested in becoming his starter?”

The Ralts cocked its head and looked carefully up at Wally through its fringe, first with one eye and then the other. It chirped to Akahana in an odd ringing tone and she shook her head. Then it nodded, and Akahana settled lower to the ground, coiling herself and ready to spring.

“Oh!” Wally gasped. He took a deep breath and a look of determination spread over his face. “Akahana, use Thunder Fang!”

Akahana surged forward, bright tendrils of electricity trailing from her bared white fangs. The Ralts startled at the unexpected move, and its feathers ruffled as it lashed out instinctively with Confusion. The pulsing purple waves bounced harmlessly off of Akahana, and she sunk her teeth into its arm. The Ralts shuddered with the jolt of electricity but held steady. Pink, ringed sound waves erupted from its mouth and struck Akahana off. A close quarters fairy move was a lot for her, but she rolled right back to her feet.

“Hang in there, Akahana,” Wally cried. The Ralts fired off another Disarming Voice, but Akahana leapt to the side. The Ralts twitched stiffly, unable to course correct before the attack was spent. “It’s paralyzed! Get around back and Tackle!”

Ren nodded approvingly as Akahana dove under another attack, sprinted past, and whirled around. Her skull connected powerfully with the Ralts’s back and it fell forward in a heap. It tried to get up but wavered from the paralysis. Akahana pressed a paw between its shoulders and growled. It held stubbornly for a moment before letting its head loll, admitting defeat. Ren heard Wally gasp softly.

Akahana released it and walked back to Ren’s side. The Ralts righted itself and looked directly up at Wally, who started. They were both quiet for a minute and Wally’s lips moved, which meant it was probably using telepathy to speak to him. Finally, Wally pulled out a pokeball and kneeled down, offering it to the Ralts. It pushed the button and flowed inside. Wally clutched the ball tightly for a moment, and then it flashed green.

“YES!” he yelled, jumping up with the pokeball held aloft. “I can’t believe it!”

“Great job!” Ren congratulated him. “You really kept your cool. That’s a tough thing for most beginners.”

Wally was too elated to process her compliments and swept down on Akahana. “Thank you, Akahana!” he said, hugging her tightly. “You were so awesome! Thank you so much!”

Akahana was stiffened in shock at the display of affection, but remained still until he started coughing and had to let her go to use his inhaler.

“Thank you, Ren,” he said, a bit calmer and quieter so as not to upset his lungs again. “This means so, so much to me. I don’t think I could have done that without you here.”

“I’m happy to help, but don’t give me too much credit. That was a pretty even match, and you won it on your own.” He glanced away and she placed a hand on his shoulder to pull him back. “I want you to remember that.”

“Okay, but I still want to pay you back some day.”

She smiled wide enough to split her face. “Deal. Hey, why don’t we trade numbers? I’ll probably be going through Verdanturf in a few weeks. Maybe we can meet up?”

“Yeah, that sounds great!”

They swapped navs and filled in their contact information. Wally was still radiating joy like a Sunny Day and took the Ralts’s ball in his hands again to let his new pokemon back out. The Ralts looked up at him and smiled too.

“Let’s go to the Pokemon Center. We can heal these guys up and get your trainer card updated. Any idea what you’re going to call them?”

“Faris.”

“It was a lot of fun to go back and show Otōsan that catch. You should have seen his face. He couldn’t believe it!”

I did see it, and it was rather amusing.

“Oh, right. Well, I’m glad I hung around. And I think it was good for Akahana.”

You’ve accomplished a lot to be proud of. And needed me for so little of it.

“I—When you put it in that context, it makes it very hard to deny.”

One doesn’t live as long as I without learning a little trickery.

#ORAS #nuzlocke #storylocke #Wally #Senri #Mr. Scott #Ren #Taraki #Akahana #Iki #Panahi #Kenta #lgbtq #chapter

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71tenseventeen · 6 years ago

Text

A Home To Rest My Heart

SidGeno Photo Challenge, Round 6 @sidgenophotochallenge

4649 words of fluff with a little angst below the cut.

It started with a piece of candy.

Sid had gotten a promotion and he and Thea were finally able to move to a new apartment. It wasn’t much, just a small no-frills one-bedroom apartment, but it was a step up from their old single room where they both slept on the fold out couch. Here he’d still be sleeping on the sofabed but his little girl would finally have her own room. More importantly it put them in a better school district so when she started Kindergarten in the Fall, it would be at a school Sid felt good about. It wasn’t much but he was proud of it.

He couldn’t afford a brand new bedroom set but he found a used bed in good shape on an online swap shop that, for ten extra bucks, the owners were willing to deliver. Once it was set up he and a very enthusiastic Thea set out to explore their new neighborhood and hit up some thrift shops to decorate her room.

“Remember little love,” Sid hated having to say this but he needed to temper her excitement a little bit. “We need to stick to the list.”

“I know Daddy. Sheets and blankets and one stuffie.”

Sid’s heart hurt but he nodded. “That’s right.”

“Can we look for pink?”

“Sure. We’ll see what we can find, okay?”

“Okay.”

Sid shoved the familiar sadness to the back of his mind as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was the first day in weeks with weather above freezing and in Pittsburgh that meant everyone was out trying to shake off their cabin fever. Their street was lined with old buildings that held apartments and small shops now. He’d googled and knew that there were a handful of thrift shops within walking distance but before they could take a step, Thea pointed directly across the street.

“Daddy look!”

Not that she had to say anything. It would be hard to miss the array of books, dishes, silky scarves and other random items arranged on metal racks and a long table outside the shop. There were so many different things, Sid couldn’t really make sense of what kind of shop it might be. The name—Как дома and under that Like Home—didn’t really shed any light but there was no mistaking the large chalkboard hanging above the table where someone had handwritten, “Sidewalk Sale. Clearance table.” It probably couldn’t hurt to look.

As soon as they crossed the street a tall man with dark hair stepped out of the shop carrying a stack of books and magazines. He noticed them right away and smiled.

“Hello! You very first customer today. We just open,” He greeted them brightly.

“Oh. Hi,” Sid fumbled a little. He wasn’t not sure what kind of person he expected to be running this shop but it wasn’t this man with dark, friendly eyes and very, very nice arms.

The man set the stack down on the book rack and turned back to them, extending a hand. “I’m Evgeni. You looking for anything particular?”

Sid quickly shook his head. “Not really. We just moved in across the street and wanted to explore the neighborhood a little bit.”

“And buy pink sheets for my new bed!” Thea piped up and Sid couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s right,” he smiled down at her. “And buy pink sheets for your new bed.”

Evgeni smiled warmly at her. “Afraid we don’t have any sheets here but you and your Papa,” he shot Sid a questioning look before continuing on as Sid nodded, “Feel free to look around and stop in anytime.” He reached into a small basket next to the books and produced what looked like two pieces of candy. “You should try. Is Russian chocolate.”

Sid’s stomach twisted a little as Thea was already reaching for the candy. “Oh, how much…”

“No cost. Little gift for welcome to neighborhood. I’m live above shop so we neighbors now.”

Something about his smile set Sid at ease, warmed him from the inside out. “Oh. Well thank you. Thank you so much,” he looked down at Thea who was already unwrapping her candy. “Thea, what do we say?”

She stuffed the chocolate in her mouth before looking up and mumbling, “Fank oo.”

Sid sighed, wanting to apologize but Evgeni just laughed, looking delighted.

As much as Sid would like to stay and chat with the handsome man, they had things to get done so they thanked him again and waved goodbye.

Two hours later they made their way back, Sid holding a couple of plastic bags in one hand and the other latched firmly to Thea’s hand where it sat on his shoulder as he gave her a piggyback ride. It had taken longer than he’d hoped and she was tired and hungry so this was his best solution for keeping her happy until they got home.

Evgeni spotted them right away, flashing an amused grin as they trudged closer. “Hello neighbors,” he said with a wave.

Sid carefully lowered Thea to the ground with a sigh of relief. She was small and he wasn’t exactly weak but it was a long few blocks.

“You find pink sheets?” He pointed to the bags in Sid’s hand.

“Pink sheets with hearts on them!” Thea nodded excitedly.

“Hearts?” Evgeni exclaimed. “Sound perfect.”

“Can I have more chocolate?”

“Thea!” Sid admonished. “That’s not polite at all.”

“Is okay. Look like we’re all out of little chocolates for the day,” Evgeni replied, gently.

Thea quickly lost interest after that, turning to wander along the metal racks. Sid knew it wouldn’t last long so he quickly apologized and was just turning to go when he heard her squeal. “Daddy look!” She was holding up what appeared to be a stuffed monkey with a very large head.

Sid’s stomach twisted. He hated when this happened.

“It’s very cute but we better put it back now.”

Her face fell and normally she could handle something like this but it had been a long morning and she really needed some lunch and a nap. “Does it cost too much?” She asked with wide, wet eyes.

Sid’s heart sank.

He cleared his throat. “Um, I don’t know sweetheart.” They’d spent less than he’d budgeted for her sheets but he also knew that brand new specialty toys weren’t usually cheap. Dreading what he’d find, he took the stuffie from her hands and looked at the price tag, cheeks burning as he wished Evgeni wasn’t watching this all play out. $24.99.

Sid swallowed hard. He could spare a few bucks for a small toy but there was no way he could spend $25. He took a deep breath, preparing for the pending meltdown. “Honey, I’m sorry. I d—”

Suddenly Evgeni was right next to him, reaching for the toy. “Oh, you find Cheburashka! I just bring him out few minutes ago. Not have chance to mark him down yet.”

Sid frowned and glanced back towards the rack where he thought Thea found it. It hadn’t come from the sale table. By the time he looked back to protest, Evgeni had already drawn a black line through the price tag and re-marked it $5.

“Wait, five dollars? That’s all?”

Evgeni smiled. “Yes, five dollar.” He offered it to Sid. “You interest in take him home?”

“Please, Daddy,” Thea begged and Sid finally nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Yeah we can, baby,” he said, handing it down to her so he could dig the money out of his pocket. “Are—it was really marked down that much?” He said, following Evgeni to the makeshift register counter by the door.

“Of course,” he said, waving a hand as he started to ring up the purchase.

Thea was dancing happily next to Sid. “Thank you Daddy! Thank you for Chebachanka.”

Evgeni snorted, laughing softly. “Cheburashka. He have big monkey head and bear cub body. He’s from cartoon my Mama show me when I’m little and I used to have little Cheburashka, too. He’s most cute.”

Thea grinned, completely charmed, trying to repeat the name. “Cheburshka.”

Evgeni laughed again and repeated the name with her a few times until she got closer. Sid watched, amused. “We’ll keep working on it,” he said with a smile. “Thanks, um, Evgeni?”

Evgeni grinned wider. “Very close. You work on that, too,” he teased, thankfully ignoring Sid’s pink cheeks. “You have name, too?”

“Oh, right. I’m Sid and is Thea.”

Evgeni held out his hand, “Nice to meet, Sid.”

Sid definitely didn’t lay awake later thinking about how Evgeni’s big hand had fit so nicely and felt so warm wrapped around his own.

The new apartment was great but more expensive and Sid couldn’t afford to take more time off than the weekend to get them settled. He’d known that money would be tight but to him, it was worth it. By Monday morning, it was back to business as usual.

They quickly settled into their new routines. When they left the apartment every morning, Sid could usually see dim lights coming from the shop and an older woman shuffling around inside. But Evgeni was there almost every evening when they came home. If he saw them he smiled and waved. Sometimes he’d come outside and call out hello. It was a month or so before they visited the shop again, Sid having decided to buy Thea a couple of pieces of Russian chocolate. (It had nothing to do with needing a reason to go inside and say hello.)

Evgeni greeted them warmly and was delighted to tell Sid about the different candies they had stocked while Thea looked around the shop. The minute she saw the dollhouse, Sid regretted coming in. He knew better, usually tried so hard to avoid putting her in situations like these. Her eyes lit up in a way he rarely saw and his heart sank a little more every second as he watched her scan the wooden house that stood just taller than her filled with tiny dolls and pieces of furniture. He didn’t have to see a price tag to know it was well out of their budget. His cheeks burned when, after distracting her didn’t work, he had to tell her gently that it was just too much money.

After that he avoided taking her in the shop.

By the time summer rolled around she still hadn’t forgotten about the dollhouse but she didn’t talk about it as much. Sid had been quietly browsing online for anything even remotely similar. He knew he shouldn’t feel bad. A toy like this was an extravagance for most families, not just him. But it still hurt, whether it should or not. Just once he wanted to do something big for her.

That feeling stuck with him for long enough that he he found himself in the shop again, alone this time, cheeks burning as he approached Evgeni.

“Sid, hello! Not used to see you here this time of night. Was just about to close up shop.”

“Oh, sorry. I can come back another—” He started before Evgeni waved him off.

“Don’t be silly. Always glad to say hello. No Thea tonight?”

“My next door neighbor is watching her for a few minutes. I just—I had a question, actually.”

Evgeni’s eyes brightened for a moment as he leaned forward against the counter. “Okay.”

“I was wondering, um, actually. Do you, I mean your shop, do you do payment plans here?” He really hoped Evgeni wouldn’t think less of him.

“Payment plan?” Evgeni was clearly confused.

“Like, um, like I would make payments on, um, something and then pick it up when it’s all paid off?”

“Oh.” Understanding seemed to dawn on Evgeni. “You want I set aside something, you make payments and pick up when all paid off?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you do that. It would, um, it would probably take me awhile though, around six months.”

Evgeni looked like he was thinking about that for a moment before he finally nodded. “Think we can work this out.”

It took a few minutes but Evgeni worked out a payment plan for the dollhouse that involved Sid coming in every two weeks on payday. Sid thought if he had a little luck and he could pick up a few extra hours here and there, he could make this happen. He was smiling by the time Evgeni began taking down information to enter into the computer. They didn’t have anything official set up but he was determined that every dollar Sid paid would be recorded and Sid given a receipt. It took a few minutes more but he finally settled on a spreadsheet and printed out a copy as Sid’s very first receipt, smiling as he handed it over.

“You really good Papa, you know?”

Sid sucked in a breath. “I try.”

“You’re do good job. She always so happy with you.”

Sid ducked his head. He hadn’t been expecting anything like this. “Thank you. I, um, I should probably get back now.”

Evgeni smiled warmly as they said their goodbyes.

Sid only made it to the curb, though, before Evgeni was pushing through the door calling after him. “Sid, wait.”

He wasn’t smiling and that worried Sid. Was he changing his mind?

“Forgot, um, forgot to get a couple of pieces information.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh. Um, okay. I can come back in and write down whatever you need.”

“Is okay. You can just tell.”

“Okay…” Sid said the word slowly, confused. “What do you need to know?”

“Favorite food. Forgot to ask what is favorite food for you?”

Sid stared. “You need to know my favorite food for this?” He held up the receipt, confused.

Evgeni stuffed his hands in his pockets and blew out a breath. “No, just, ah, wanted to know your favorite food so maybe could ask you out to dinner sometime.”

Sid was sure his heart stopped. Evgeni wanted to ask him out. Was asking him out, maybe, right then? Sid couldn’t tell. This wasn’t something he’d ever expected. Could he even find a way to date right now? Would it be a good idea to date Evgeni? Holy shit, did Evgeni really want to ask him out?

“Sid?”

Sid forced himself to focus. “You, um, you’re asking me out?”

“Want to. Sometime, maybe? Is okay if you say no. Not affect anything with dollhouse. Just, um, been thinking about doing and Thea not with you.”

It was a risk. And Sid had no idea how he would manage one date, let alone more if things worked out. But he’d been doing a lot of things lately that he wouldn’t normally do and god, he really wanted to say yes.

“I like Italian food. Um, pasta, pizza—that kind of thing.” The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to talk himself out of it and Evgeni’s face lit up with a sweet smile.

“Okay. Italian good. When you have free time?”

Sid thought about that. “Sometimes my friend’s wife watches her for a few hours on Saturdays.” Technically that was when Sid worked overtime but he didn’t think Vero would mind if he asked for this. They were constantly trying to set Sid up anyhow.

Evgeni smiled wider. “Perfect. You, um, you tell me when you have Saturday free? I work everything else out.”

“I’ll, um, I’ll ask tomorrow.”

This time when Sid walked away, there was a new spring in his step.

For the first time in a long time it felt like everything was falling into place.

It had taken her a few weeks to get comfortable being in her own room and bed at night but now Sid could barely pry her out of there some days. Money was still tight but he was able to pay the bills and keep up with payments on the dollhouse without too much trouble. Some weeks he even had enough leftover to take Thea for a treat.

And then there was Evgeni, or Zhenya as he’d taught Sid to call him. He couldn’t remember ever liking someone so much. He’d been so nervous and unsure on their first date but from the first moment, Zhenya was wonderful. He was sweet and attentive, genuinely interested in their conversations. He had an amazing ability to find joy in almost any situation and Sid really loved that about him.

He was also really great at kissing, so there was that.

What meant the most, though, was how willing he was to go at Sid’s pace. As much as he was drawn to Zhenya, he had to keep it slow. Thea was with him almost all the time which meant Zhenya had to be patient. And he was. He never complained or made an issue of the fact that he rarely got to see Sid without Thea. Instead he embraced it, cooking dinner or walking to the park with them, always finding ways to include her.

All of it was more than Sid had dared to let himself hope for and he was more happy than he’d been in a long time.

The bottom dropped out in September. His hours were being cut due to budget restrictions. He was lucky to still have a position at all, they told him and Sid knew he should be grateful for that.

Money got tighter. The tiny buffer he’d enjoyed for the past six months was gone. He tightened up the budget every place he could and thought, if he could just ride this out until they reinstated his hours, everything would be okay.

His position was officially cut in October. He was able to stay on, in the position he’d held before his promotion which meant less pay. A lot less.

He didn’t know how he was going to tell Thea that they were probably going to have to move again. He didn’t know how to tell Zhenya that he was struggling, that he barely had money to feed his daughter, let alone contribute to dates. He was sure if he told Zhenya, he’d offer to help in some way but Sid just couldn’t do that. This wasn’t Zhenya’s burden. Sid would have to figure it out on his own.

He began to scour the help-wanted ads and submit resumes anywhere he could. He clipped coupons from the paper and started looking for a new apartment, something smaller and cheaper. The entire time, he kept making payments on the dollhouse, held on as long as he could until there just wasn’t any money.

He had to feed Thea.

It was a cold Friday night in December when he knew Zhenya wasn’t working that he made his way to the shop. He fought back tears as he explained to the older lady with familiar eyes that he’d need to have a refund and could no longer pay for the dollhouse. He expected there to be some kind of fee but she refunded him the full amount he’d paid, eyes full of sympathy. It broke his heart.

When Zhenya called the next morning, Sid lied and said they were both sick and that he’d talk to him on Monday.

On Monday he made another excuse and then more every day after that until Zhenya stopped trying.

They had to skip having a Christmas tree but he strung up lights they already had in a corner of the living room and tried not to cry again as he wrapped up the coloring book and off-brand playdough he’d gotten at the dollar store. They weren’t bad gifts and he thought she’d enjoy them—he’d just really wanted to do something special for her this year. And now he couldn’t even afford to keep them fed.

Sid couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d ever been more sad.

On Christmas Eve Sid put Thea to bed in her beloved room and tried hard not to think about how he was going to have to take that away from her as he kissed her goodnight. He packed a couple of boxes and heated a can of soup for his dinner. He still hadn’t found another apartment, still didn’t know where they were going to go but they had to be out by the end of the month.

With a heavy sigh he washed his bowl and pulled out the sofa bed. Thea would probably be up early so even though he knew it would be hours before the ache in his chest would let him sleep, he thought he should at least try.

The soft knock at the door came just as he turned out the last light. Sid frowned—who would be at his door now? He shuffled over to peer through the peephole.

His chest clenched and he pulled the door open, staring up into familiar dark eyes that looked a lot sadder than he’d ever seen them. “Zhenya.”

“Hi Sid,” he replied, hands stuffed in his pockets so that his shoulders hunched forward. There was snow on his hat and jacket and Sid desperately wanted to invite him in. How had he fucked everything up so badly?

Sid glanced down and that’s when he saw the big box wrapped in shiny gold paper leaning against the wall with a smaller box wrapped in red on top. “What…?” Sid trailed off, eyes stinging.

“Know we not together but I’m buy before we…” He paused for a moment to take a breath. “Can’t return, can’t use. Want you both to have.”

“I don’t, um…” Sid’s throat was thick and he tried to clear it. “I don’t have anything for you.”

“Didn’t expect you to,” Zhenya said, looking up. “Anyway. Merry Christmas, Sid.”

As he turned to go everything in Sid screamed at him to stop him, to just tell him everything. Make it right. He felt frozen, voice caught in his throat and then Zhenya stopped, turned around, hurt showing all over his face.

“Just—Can you at least tell me what I’m do wrong? Thought things were going good and then you just gone. What I’m do wrong, Sid?” His voice sounded dangerously close to breaking.

“Nothing,” Sid rasped, blinking back tears.

Zhenya shook his head for a moment and then turned away with a sigh.

Sid watched him take one step and then another before he cracked. “Zhenya, I’m sorry. Please don’t go.”

He stopped but didn’t turn around.

“Everything fell apart. I lost my job and had to take a demotion to keep working. I couldn’t—Everything is so bad. There’s no money. I can’t—I can’t pay rent here anymore. I can barely keep Thea fed. And I didn’t want...I just didn’t think you should have to deal with that. I didn’t want you to know how bad I messed up. I just thought…” Sid had to stop and clear his throat again. “I think you deserve someone better than me.”

There it was. Sid felt like his chest was ripped open but at least he was finally honest with Zhenya, even if it was too late.

When Zhenya finally, slowly turned to face him, his eyes were shining. “You think because you have bad times, you not deserve to be loved? Someone to help you through hard times? That’s what relationship is all about, Sid. For me is never about what you have or don’t have. Is about how I feel about you and how you make me feel.”

Sid’s breath caught in his throat. “You were the best thing that ever happened to us.” His voice was wobbling now as he realized there was a good chance that Zhenya was going to walk out of his life forever. “If you—If you give me a chance, I promise I’ll fix it, I’ll find a way. I have a lot to work out but…” His voice began to break. “I miss you.��

Zhenya took a breath and gave the slightest shake of his head as he looked away. Sid’s heart sank. “Okay,” he whispered and turned away. He didn’t want to watch Zhenya leave.

It was like a punch to the gut when his eyes landed on the presents so carefully wrapped and topped with bows. Sid really hoped that Zhenya was gone because he was quickly losing control of his emotions as he dropped his face into his hands.

“Sid.”

Zhenya’s soft voice was right behind him and then there was a gentle hand on his arm, tugging until he turned and all Sid could do was whisper, “I’m so sorry,” on another soft sob.

Zhenya held him close for a minute, neither of them saying anything before he pulled away and looked down. “If I come in, it can’t be for just tonight, Sid. Need to know you trust me, even when things hard for you.”

Sid doesn’t even have to think about it, nods immediately, unable to find the right words.

Zhenya takes a breath. “Okay. Let’s go inside and talk.”

Half an hour later the presents were under the light strand, next to the two small ones that Sid had wrapped for Thea. Zhenya stripped down to his tshirt and sweats and climbed onto the lumpy, fold-out sofa bed with Sid, arms wrapped around him as they talked into the night.

Epilogue

Sid dragged packing tape across what was probably the twentieth box he’d packed that day. Using a marker he carefully wrote “Thea’s room” on it, just like he had on all the others. When had she gotten so much stuff?

He glanced around the room—they’d painted it pink shortly after moving in—and was satisfied that he’d packed everything he could into the boxes. All that was left was a couple of changes of clothes in her backpack to get her through until the boxes made it over, and the dollhouse.

That would be going in the car with them.

It still brought tears to his eyes to look at it, to remember her eyes lighting up when she’d hobbled in sleepily on that Christmas morning two years ago and been so happy to see Zhenya. Sid remembered everything about that morning—Zhenya’s rumpled hair as he’d scooped her up, the snow falling steadily outside the window, the look on her face when she saw the wrapped presents, the way Zhenya held him as he wept watching her open the dollhouse—all of it was burned into his heart.

Zhenya spent all morning putting it together for her and then, a few days later, moved it with the utmost care into the vacant two bedroom apartment above the shop. Right across the hall from Zhenya.

Sid smiled as he looked around, remembering how they’d painted and decorated her room together, how happy he’d been just to be near Zhenya. That feeling never went away. They’d lived there ever since, with Zhenya officially living across the hall, though it had been well over a year since he’d spent a night anywhere other than in Sid’s bed.

“Hey.”

Sid turned in time to see Zhenya smiling at him, let himself be pulled into strong arms for a gente hug. “Got the car pulled around, ready for dollhouse.”

“Thanks. I’ve got a blanket to wrap it up. She’ll be heartbroken if anything happens to it.”

Zhenya kissed the top of his head tenderly. “We take good care of it.”

An hour later he watched, heart full of emotion, as Zhenya carried it carefully into the little three bedroom house that sat on a corner lot with three trees and a small front porch. They’d already painted Thea’s room, lilac this time, at her request. Her bed was there and Sid set to work putting pink sheets with little hearts on the mattress while Zhenya opened the box that said, “Dollhouse furniture” and began to set the little house back up.

#A Home To Rest My Heart #my fic #sidgenophotochallenge #y'all have no idea how hard it was for me to pare this down to keep it under 5k #So many little scenes in my head

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lykaonimagines · 7 years ago

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Positive (Part 2) - Loki x Reader

Wow! I just wanted to start by thanking everyone for all the likes, reblogs, and feedback you’ve had for all my stories, particularly this one. I’m really glad everyone is enjoying this as much as I’ve liked writing it so far :) I hope you all enjoy this part, and I love you all and your support ❤️

Also if you want to be tagged in future parts just let me know!

Paring: Loki x Reader

Part #: 2

Word Count: 1,904

Description: A mutant member of the Avengers finds out she’s pregnant with her boyfriend Loki’s baby, are they ready for this?

Warnings: Pregnancy and some angst

Dashes are just being used to break apart scenes so it makes a little more sense as the perspectives switch between Loki and reader, or onto another scene in general :)

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Loki finds himself once again walking the streets of New York alone with his thoughts. The temperature had dropped and most people bustled by in heavy coats, but he enjoyed the cold air, it helped him think straight.

It’d been two weeks since he found out the news he was to be a father. Two weeks of awkwardly avoiding Y/N at all costs. Not that it had been physically hard, she rarely left her room and he rarely stayed in the tower. Mentally however… was another story.

He sighs loudly as he takes a seat on a park bench, watching the trees sway in the wind. He hadn’t gone more than five days without holding her before this. The only person who truly understood him, and loved him for who he is, despite anything he might have done. And being separated from her felt like he was missing a limb. But he didn’t know what to do.

“I can’t be a father,” he mumbles under his breath. The past two weeks had been him replaying his own parental experiences. Being lied to for years, finding out his birth father left him to die on a frozen rock, never being good enough for Odin. Never good enough. His birthright was to die, as Odin said. How could he possibly be any form of a decent father when they only model of fatherhood he had was that.

That’s not even considering what this will do to Y/N’s body. He’d been careless and gotten a mortal pregnant with a half ice giant child. She could literally freeze from the inside, the child could overheat, the pregnancy could kill her. Loki runs all these scenarios in his mind as he chews on the inside of his cheek. How are they even to know what to expect?

“How can I be a good father when I can’t even be a good man,” he scolds himself. He knows he’s not a good man, all the things he’s done. Not even a good lover, he finds out the love of his life is pregnant with his child and what does he do? Run. Go silent. Pretend it doesn’t exist.

He suddenly slams his fist down on the bench next to him and hangs his head. Then just this morning he heard talk from the other Avengers that she was thinking of giving up their child. His child. Given up and tossed away like himself and it’s mother because the situation wasn’t ideal.

Since hearing Tony mentioning adoption that morning, all Loki could think about was his child growing up in an orphanage or some other home, and it’s ice giant blood revealing itself. He or she being so frightened. With no one to explain what they are, and parents or caregivers being equally at odds and frightened.

Slowly gaining his resolve, Loki stands from the bench with a goal in mind, “Our child needs me, and needs me to be a better man. If she will even let me after all this.”

He takes off down the street once again, heading for the bookshop he’d visited a thousand times before. One place on Midgard that made him feel truly at home. The smell of fresh pages, and the feeling of the spine under his fingertips. The number of times he’d stopped here, both by himself and with Y/N to feed their love of literature, he couldn’t even count.

But today was not the day for story. He straightens his posture and walks up to an employee, “Could you inform me on the location of the parenting books?”

An hour later Loki is walking out of the store with several books in his bag. The worker had tried to recommend some books for him, but didn’t seem to know much either as they both stared at the long aisle. He ended up going with what seemed to be the most straight forward and helpful books he could find.

As he continued his walk back to Stark tower, he’s momentarily distracted by the children’s store across the street. Walking over briskly, hoping to not be noticed, he quickly walks back to the baby section, scanning the racks and shelves.

Suddenly he stops and reaches to grab a onesie that stood out to him. A grin graces his features as he looks down at the graphic, “Daddy’s Little Wolf Cub.” Something about it stands out, and he knows he needs to buy it.

After another hour of shopping, Loki has another bag full of purchases, this time for the baby itself.

When he finally returns to Stark Tower, he is met by half of the Avengers gathered in the kitchen. A series of glares are all trained on him as he tries to walk through, before Thor steps in his path.

“Brother,” he states angrily, “We need to speak.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Loki replies with a sigh and goes to push past him.

“What’s in the bags Frosty?” Tony yells from behind the counter. “Some things for you to pretend you don’t have a depressed pregnant girlfriend in the other room?”

Loki scowls at him, “It’s none of your business Stark.”

“What’s all the noise?” Y/N asks as she stumbles into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Loki’s breath catches in his throat as he looks at her, unsure what to say.

She also freezes when she sees him, looking down at her hands instead of him. “I’ll go back to my room,” she mumbles.

“No no no sweetie,” Tony says intercepting her. “You need to eat. You haven’t ate in two days. And some of us,” he glares at Loki. “Care that you and the baby are healthy.”

Slumping his shoulders, Loki gazes at Y/N for a few more moments before retreating to his room, throwing his bags on the floor. After a few minutes calming down, he begins to set his purchases out, and hang the new clothes in his wardrobe. He finally crawls into his bed with his stack of books.

Y/N’s heart stings as she watches a defeated looking Loki retreat from the room. It’s been hard enough as it was thinking about the situation, but actually seeing his face made it hurt all the more.

She tried to hold the conversations the other Avengers were having with her, but it was hard to focus. Finally Thor put an arm around her shoulder and nodded before leading her back to her room.

“Thank you,” she nods and squeezes his hands as they get to her door. “I… I don’t know what we would do without you, Uncle Thor,” she smiles up at him briefly.

He smiles back and gently pats her tummy, “Well no matter what, Uncle Thor will always be here for the little one.” His face gets serious after a moment, “How are you feeling Lady Y/N?”

“I’m… well…” she starts and stops. “Tired. Sore. Upset. Lonely. Terrified. Lost. All of the above,” she gives him a bitter grin.

He pulls her into a hug immediately, and the tears she was holding start to run down her cheeks onto his armor. She clings to his form as she sobs, not noticing the flash of green that paused, then rushed past them.

“Thank you Thor,” she says with a sniffle, pulling back from him.

“Y/N whatever happens, you’re a little sister to me, and this child is my niece or nephew. I don’t know what is happening with Loki, but I, along with the rest of the Avengers will help you.”

She nods at him before retreating back into her room to contemplate the day.

Loki had finally thrown his book down, and decided to just go talk to Y/N when he swung his door open to see her and Thor embracing in the hall. Tears ran down her cheeks as she clung to his form, and he whispered presumably sweet nothings to comfort her. Loki froze for a moment, before taking off as quickly as possible, having to be anywhere but there.

His heart stings as he reaches the New York streets once again, tears prickling at his own eyes. Had he driven her to Thor? Thor was always the… stronger, more well liked, and admired brother. Always the worthy one. The only worthy one in their father’s eyes. Has Y/N finally seen that as well?

He wants to be sick as his thoughts rush to Thor loving Y/N. Doing all the things they had once done together, and raising his child. “Maybe it would be better for them all,” he whispers, not believing his own words. A crack of thunder echoes in the background threateningly as he stars at the pavement beneath his feet. He can’t focus on any of it anymore, and just decides to run. He doesn’t know where, but he just has to run.

Y/N nervously stands outside Loki’s door, having been staring at the wood for the last ten minutes. She’d decided she would confront him finally, but lost most of her nerve when she reached his door. She finally resolves herself to knock in the pattern they’d made as a code for one another long ago.

After a few moments of no answer, she decides to just try the handle, which much to her surprise was unlocked. She let herself into his room, to see he was in fact gone.

Nostalgia hits her like a brick as she looks around, not even a month ago she was cuddled up in this very bed with him, as he told her he’d love her forever.

She decides to wait, and sit down on the edge of his bed when she notices a book on the floor. She carefully picks it up and flips it over to read the cover much to her surprise, “King Me: What Every Son Wants and Needs From His Father.” Her fingers briefly run over the surface trying to take in if this was his attempt at accepting he’s a father, or trying to deal with his own father issues.

She sets the book down and finally notices a larger stack next to the bed. Lifting them into her lap, she flips through them surprised. “Hero: Becoming The Strong Father Your Children Need. The Good Dad: Becoming The Father You Were Meant To Be. 52 Things Daughters Need From Their Fathers. Dude, You’re Gonna Be A Dad. The New Dad’s Playbook.

She’s bewildered as she tries to process all their books in front of her, “Does he actually want to be a father?” She asks herself setting them aside when something else catches her attention.

Before she knows it, she’s curled up in his bed clutching a small onesie with the words “Daddy’s Little Wolf Cub,” waiting for Loki to return.

“I should have known,” she whispers as she holds her belly. “He’d never just give up on us.”

Suddenly the door to his room flies open and slams shut, revealing a damp Loki leaning against the door, his breathing heavy, and what sounds like tears.

“Loki?” She says softly from the bed trying to get his attention.

He jumps suddenly at her voice and spins around to finally notice her on his bed. He puts a hand to his forehead as he looks at her, tears running down his face. “Y/N…”

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And here’s a little bonus on the types of things Loki bought on his day out that I was using as inspiration for this part :)

Tag List: @ihavenofilter @zombiefied-gay-ghost @talinalani @chloe-skywalker @shanetoo

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki x oc #loki imagine #marvel #postive #part 2

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pettybkang · 7 years ago

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CANDY

Group: The Rose.

Pairing: Y/N + Sammy.

Genre: College!AU sorta, soft romance.

Word count: 5k+

Description: “It’s going to be fun! Come on, you can’t spend your entire life going to all your gay clubs only!” Lola said, dragging Y/N by the hand. She wanted to say that yes, she could. Or yes, she would. Where else would she be able to dress however she wants, kiss whoever she wants and also not be grabbed by straight dudes who think women belong to them? But Lola has asked her nicely - she threatened her - and she said yes - had no other choice.

“Honestly… I have no idea why I let you drag me all the way here tonight,” Y/N said the moment they arrived at the club. It was packed and the line was almost too long for her to handle, but her friend - Lola - told her they were on the list. Lola apparently knows the owner of the club, they apparently lived in the same neighborhood as a kid and Y/N wants to yell that when you were born in North Dakota everyone pretty much assumes you lived in the same neighborhood, it doesn’t matter how big the state is. But they are in New York now and she doesn’t wanna sound like someone who lived her entire life in Detroit.

“It’s going to be fun! Come on, you can’t spend your entire life going to all your gay clubs only!” Lola said, dragging Y/N by the hand. She wanted to say that yes, she could. Or yes, she would. Where else would she be able to dress however she wants, kiss whoever she wants and also not be grabbed by straight dudes who think women belong to them? But Lola has asked her nicely - she threatened her - and she said yes - had no other choice.

Maybe the Department of Neurosurgery wasn’t the best place to make friends, Y/N thought, because the only friend she had was dragging her to the straight club two weeks before finals. She was supposed to be spending all of her free time at the labs, the library or bothering her professors with e-mails at 4am. But Lola knows how much of a procrastinator Y/N is and she also knows her friend likes to solve everything with a great shot of tequila.

Y/N had tried several different outfits for the night but ended up wearing black pants, a black and oversized cropped top and a leather jacket just in case. She had shoved her wallet and phone in her pockets and was wearing a pair of boots - unfortunately, Lola had taken her to one of those clubs where you can’t get in if you’re not wearing heels, so her boots had some. Y/N took a deep breath, reminded herself that it would be Lola’s birthday in a week and tried to put on a smile.

They did get in super fast, their names were on the list. Lola knew more people than Y/N expected, which made her wonder how many hours of sleep her friend has a night. It’s true that Neurosurgeons rarely sleep, but it’s also true that they don’t have a lot of friends… like Lola apparently has. They got in, greeted a lot of people, and managed to order themselves drinks.

The night started with a shot of tequila for Y/N, a shot of vodka with energy drink for Lola.

“Let’s try again… Why am I here?” Sam complained for the hundredth time. They had been standing in line for a long while now, his other four friends looking super excited to be there while he just wanted to go home. Or cross the city and go to his usual cub. His usual gay club.

“Because you love us?” Devon said, making Sam roll his eyes. Maybe the Department of Music and Performing Arts wasn’t the best place to make friends, he thought. Even though it seemed like it in the first place.

“And everyone is here today, c’mon,” Fred said, pointing at two girls who walked by. One of them was obviously being dragged by the other and Sam instantly could relate. “I think they go to NYU too. I might have seen them around.”

“Just because you’ve seen a few girls around, doesn’t mean you know them. Do you know how many people study at NYU? A lot. A whole fucking lot,” Sam said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms one more time.

“You’re moody, we get it. I’ll buy you a shot of something expensive so you can feel better,” Devon squeezed Sam’s shoulder, giving him a smile. Sam pressed his lips together, obviously annoyed, and looked away. It was almost their turn to get in any way and she was already here, in his black pants, black boots, black shirt, and a grey coat. He might look like he belongs, but his subtle eyeliner was telling a different story.

Sam took a deep breath and gave Devon a smile back, even if he was sure he still looked a bit annoyed. Devon’s birthday was the week before and there’s nothing Sam can do now but to celebrate it with his best friend.

They managed to get in early - Devon, Fred, and Gabriel knew everyone there apparently, making Sam surprised as they walked in and they greeted everyone. They walked straight - ha - to the bar, Devon buying Sam the expensive drink he had promised.

The night started with a mix of sparkling wine and red berries for Sam and beer for the rest of his friends.

The drinks that wouldn’t stop coming were actually turning this into a very fun night, Y/N would say. Unfortunately, she could still hear the horrible music that kept on playing, the loud sound of electro beats over electro beats that had no lyrics or make no sense. Each drop made her want to stab her years with the straw of the piña colada she had in hands.

“How can people even dance to this?” she asked Lola when she saw her friend was back with her drink.

“They don’t,” she said, pointing at the people downstairs. Lola had gotten them access to a VIP room. Apparently, people from North Dakota have strong bounds - Y/N would find out later that year that the owner of the club is Lola’s cousin. “That’s all they do… I don’t think people come to these clubs to dance.”

“Then what’s the point?!” Y/N settled her drink on a table just so she could raise her arms in disappointment. “Honestly, I don’t see why get dressed and go out if you can’t dance to the songs that are playing.”

“Y/N… Babe… My sweetest friend… The cleverest girl from the Department of Neurosurgery… So smart, so bright…”

“They come here to hook up, I get it,” Y/N cut Lola off, grabbing her drink and sipping from it again. She rolled her eyes and looked down, trying to move her hips to the song but obviously failing, feeling frustrated.

Sam had his back against a wall. The first wall he could find that let him watch the dance floor just in case and drink his drink in peace. His friends were nowhere to be seen, but one would stop by and talk to him every once in a while. Devon was already calling him Sammy so he was obviously drunk.

He knew that as a student of music he shouldn’t be judging the songs playing or anything, but for him, it was always impossible to have fun if he can’t sing along to the song. And all these electro beats and remixes make it impossible for him to actually sing to anything that is playing.

The next thing he could do - besides getting shit faced drunk - is to flirt, but the crowd here makes it impossible for him to do it comfortably. Yeah, he could flirt with the girls only and hope he doesn’t end up with someone that is 1) homophobic and 2) expects him to be straight but he’s not sure how he can do that without having a one hour chat about life before hooking up here.

Not being straight enough - or at all even - for this place, he decided to just stick to his fancy drinks and his wall.

It was around 2am and Y/N was drunk. The girl is already loud but she’s even louder when she’s drunk. She had had a shot of tequila, two pinã coladas, and then another shot and she wanted to dance. The beats weren’t cutting it anymore and Lola was nowhere to be seen to stop here so she grabbed another drink - another piña colada - and went down the stairs, determined to grab the DJ by the sleeve and have an hour talk about the perks of playing some pop music.

On her way downstairs, she passed a few couples that were enjoying themselves against the walls. She did look for Lola but didn’t find her at all. Her friend had mentioned something about the dance floor and some guy, but she didn’t pay much attention. While she made her way through the crowd, Y/N thought about the songs she could ask the DJ for. Mi Gente, maybe? Too much. Lady Gaga’s You and I? Too gay. Ariana Grande’s Side to Side? Too old. Camila Cabello’s Havana would have to do.

She was in the middle of the dance floor when she spotted Lola dancing with a guy, she waved for a moment and Lola waved back, telling her to come over. Y/N wanted to say she was going to the DJ, but her friend didn’t understand her. When she got close enough, Lola introduced her to the guy.

“Y/N! This is Devon! He also studies at NYU!” Lola had a smile on her face Y/N hadn’t seen in ages. In Med School they would say people smile that much when they find a good surgeon to marry - maybe not in Med School, maybe just her crazy neurosurgeon classmates.

“Really? What practice?” Y/N asked, assuming he was also going to Med School. She was sure all her friends also studied some type of Medicine Practice at NYU. Her Facebook feed would always flood with Medicine news and jokes and memes and everything, really. But apparently, the boy had no idea what she was talking about since his face was super confused.

“He doesn’t go to Med School!” Lola interrupted when she noticed the silence, smiling at Y/N who just nodded. “Music, right?” she said, looking at Devon. It was Y/N’s turn to make a very confused face. What the hell was a music major doing at a straight club listening to electro music? Well. It wasn’t her place to judge… but… well.

“Yeah. Music Education actually,” he said, sipping his beer. Y/N nodded, sipping from her drink.

“Well, I’m gonna let you guys do whatever you wanna do… I’m gonna go to the DJ and beg him to play Havana,” she finished her sentence the moment a guy squeezed Devon’s shoulder. He was about to say something, but apparently, he heard what Y/N had said and frowned.

“Hey! Do you mean Camila’s Havana?” he said, a bit louder so the girl who was now walking away could hear. Y/N turned around, also frowning. She looked at the guy - blondish hair, black everything, fancy drink in hand.

She couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face, making her bite the corner of her lips. “Yeah. Who else's? I need a pop song before the night is over otherwise I’ll die,” she said, shrugging.

“Shit, holy fuck, yes,” he said, making both Devon and Lola laugh.

“This is Sammy, my best friend…” he introduced him to both Lola and Y/N. “Sammy, these are Lola and Y/N. They also go to NYU,” Y/N waved, Lola, smiled.

“Awesome! Which Art do you girls study?” Y/N laughed at the mistake she had made earlier, shaking her head. Maybe her blue hair didn’t help him, or Lola’s piercings, or their tattoos, but it was still funny.

“Med School,” Devon said, making Sam shrug and laugh.

“I was on my way to free us from these beats and beg the DJ for a pop song. Wanna join?” Y/N said, raising her drink to take another sip. Sam thought about it for a moment, he had walked over to Devon to let him know he was about to leave but now things had gotten a tiny bit more fun.

“Sure! I can’t wait to sing along and destroy my voice tonight,” he said, laughing and giving her a smile.

Y/N laughed back, shook her head and took his hand, placing it on her shoulder so he wouldn’t lose her in the crowd. “That’s the spirit!”

It didn’t work as well as they had planned.

It actually didn’t work at all.

They couldn’t find a way to the DJ booth, they couldn’t yell loud enough, they couldn’t even show the DJ the song they wanted. They tried talking to the security to let them go up, but it didn’t work. They tried making a scene so the DJ noticed them, but it didn’t work.

When they were about to give up, a spark of hope, Sam had the idea to write what they wanted on his phone and show it to the DJ. Y/N did the honors since this was a straight club, but the DJ pouted, looked down at them and said “I’m sorry, it’s an electro night. I can play the remix though.” Y/N made a face, Sam pouted and they both left defeated towards the bar.

He leaned his back against the bar while she ordered a bottle of water. “I can’t believe we’re going through this. I think my head is about to explode,” giving the barman a smile the moment she got her water. She opened the bottle, took a sip and offered it to Sam without thinking twice. “Honestly…” she continued. “They were having a 00’s night at this club I usually go to. But I let Lola drag me here because it’s her birthday next week… I could be yelling and dancing to Toxic right now, but no.”

Sam was drinking the water while he heard the girl complaining. He knew the club she was talking about. Bittersweet. Right across town. As LGBT friendly as it can be. A lot of theme nights and tonight the theme was MTV 00’s. His childhood friend - Jeff - was going to be there, he had invited Sam but he had already promised Devon he would come.

“Bittersweet, right?” he said, just to confirm if she was talking about the same club he had been thinking about. The surprised look on her face confirmed it.

“Yes!” she pretty much yelled.

“The best place in New York!” they said at the same time, laughing.

Y/N wasn’t expecting Sam to understand. She thought he wanted a pop song because he was a Music student and apparently there are some that like good music, no offense to people who enjoy electro sounds or whatever… But offense. But Bittersweet is an underground club in New York that people from the LGBT community go to have fun.

Rumour has it the club is owned by a couple of two bisexuals, that’s where the name comes from. Y/N has identified with the club since the first time she stepped there and has never once wanted to go somewhere else - she has spent countless drunk nights there with Lola and some of her Med friends.

“We should go,” Sam said, giving Y/N a smile. She noticed the eyeliner now that they were close and he noticed the glitter on her cheeks too. How the hell did they imagine they were talking about different singers or clubs before is beyond them. Y/N laughed, nodded and gave him a smile back.

“Yeah, we should. I think they’re having a tequila night next week, right?” she bit on the corner of her lower lip. She would drag Lola down to Bittersweet on tequila night as revenge.

“Oh… I mean right now,” Sam said, making Y/N frown for a moment. She was about to say Lola would be mad when Sam opened his mouth to continue. “I know, our friends are here. But I promise Devon is a good guy and you can leave Lola with him,” Y/N made a face at that. She couldn’t just leave Lola behind. But at the same time Panic! At the Disco was waiting for her on the other side of town.

“I’m gonna talk to Lola…” She said, biting on her lower lip. “But you pay for the cab!” she yelled as she walked towards the dance floor.

“I’m a music student! We’re going by train!” Sam yelled back, making Y/N laugh.

The moment Y/N got closer to Lola, she was still dancing with Devon. She squeezed her friend’s shoulder and got closer so she could talk to her. “Sam and I-” she started, but was cut off by her friend.

“Yeah, just go!” she said, sounding super excited.

“What?”

“Is he taking you home? You guys look great together!” she said, making Y/N more confused than before. She looked at Devon then, still dancing, giving them space to talk. Maybe he wasn’t that bad.

“Yeah, sorta. He wants to go somewhere else,” Y/N said, biting on her lower lip.

“Just go! I’m gonna be fine. I’m friends with the owner,” Lola winked, making Y/N frown and laugh. That sentence would make sense three days from now.

“Okay, call me if you need anything! My phone is with me always!” Y/N said and Lola was already turning her around and pushing her away.

“Go have fun!” she yelled, making Y/N roll her eyes and laugh, walking back towards Sam.

They did go by train.

It took them around forty minutes.

It was pretty awkward at first, two strangers sitting side by side in a train in New York. Y/N wanted to point out that his eyeliner was great and Sam wanted to point out that her jacket was awesome, but both kept quiet. Until Sam decided to break the quiet.

“I hope they play Paramore tonight… Or haven’t played it yet,” he said, making Y/N smile.

“Oh, don’t worry. They’ll play it again if I ask,” she winked at him, leaving a question mark on stamped on his forehead. She laughed, shaking her head a bit. “I’m friends with the DJ. I mean, one of them. She usually plays around three so if we hurry we can get there in time to ask for whatever song we want,” she smiled and then added. “You might as well know her. Violet, short hair. Used to be long and green purple blue, you choose.”

“She dates a guy named Jeff?” Sam leaned his head to the side a little, while Y/N nodded, confirming it. “She’s my best friend’s girlfriend. I mean, my childhood friend. I have a lot of friends,” Sam said, making Y/N laugh one more time. “I know Jeff. He’s the reason I know they’re throwing this party tonight, he asked me to go but I told him I had promised Devon.”

“Well, good thing you didn’t promise Devon you would stay till the end, right?” Y/N added, making Sam laugh softly now. “What else should we ask for, you know, just to be sure. Panic! At the Disco?”

“For sure. I Write Sins?”

“Always. Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn doors?”

The walk to the club wasn’t long - it was pretty close to the station - and by now both Y/N and Sam couldn’t shut up. Two drunk young people roaming the streets of New York looking for a better time than an annoying club that only played electro music.

They talked about college, friendships and moving to New York. Sam’s family is from LA, Y/N’s family is from Detroit. Most of their friends aren’t from the Big Apple either. Both would always think it’s funny how none of them are from the big city, but they still refer to it as their home.

Voices could be heard when they turned left on the street of Bittersweet, making both of them smile. They hadn’t talked sexuality yet, but both would be surprised to find out that they are both bi. And moving to New York, being on their own for, making new friends and being part of a community helped them a lot more than they thought. Both are out and open about it, but it’s obviously not something you start a conversation towards a club with.

The security guard - Elias - greeted them with a smile, giving a squeeze on the shoulder. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other!” he said, laughing softly. “I always see you two here on different weekends,” the guy made them laugh for a moment.

“We actually just met. At Fantasy,” Y/N said, making a face. Elias frowned for a second, a few people around them also did.

“What the hell were you two doing there?” he laughed, shaking his head as he let them in.

“Long story, Eli! We’ll see you later!” Sam said, giving him another smile.

Y/N rushed in as fast as possible, going down the stairs that led to the club. She stopped for a moment to look back, just to see that Sam was right behind her, giving her another one of his big smiles. She was slowly starting to enjoy having those to herself.

King for a Day by Pierce The Veil was playing and both were sure Violet was still on the DJ booth. Everyone was screaming the song as it played and both Y/N and Sam followed, rushing into the dance floor. They got exactly what they wanted, beats to move their hips to, lyrics to scream and a lot of people that could understand the feeling of good music. Or at least their definition of good music.

As soon as the song was over, Y/N squeezed her way to the DJ booth, giving Violet a huge smile.

“Hey!” she waved, catching her friend’s attention, who waved right back at her.

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were out with Lola today,” she said, making a very confused face.

“Long story!” Y/N waved it off and as soon as she was done speaking, Sam showed up, giving Violet a smile. “Here’s the long story!” Y/N added. At first, Violet didn’t get it, frowned a little. She had never seen Y/N and Sam together, but she knows both of them. And then it finally made sense.

“Did you play Panic already? Or Paramore?” Sam asked, making Violet laugh and nod. He then pouted for a moment until the DJ was smiling. “What about I Write Sins and Misery Business?” he asked, making Y/N push him away a little.

“It’s Violet we’re talking to, lemme do it,” she said, shushing him them. “But It’s Better If You Do and crushcrushcrush?”

“Deal,” the DJ said, making both clap. “I’ve got around five songs left. I’m gonna make the two the end of the set, alright?”

Y/N gave her two thumbs up and Sam cheered.

And then the playlist followed: Blink 182, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, Paramore, and Panic! At the Disco.

Both Y/N and Sam had more fun in those few minutes than they had had during the three hours they had spent at the other club. Screaming the lyrics to all of the songs, moving their bodies to the beat and laughing at each other.

Only then, right after Violet’s set was over, they decided to order a drink.

“Hi, Aiden!” Y/N said, greeting the guy behind the bar counter. She waved at him who gave her a smile and a wave.

“Hey! Took you a while! I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” he said, moving to lean over the counter and press a kiss to her cheek. Aiden and Y/N have history, but history both of them would like to never talk about. It’s almost as if you dated your brother and then found out he’s your brother, but in this case, they’re not siblings, only very good friends.

“I wasn’t… But you know me, I can never miss this party,” she said, pulling Sam closer. “Also, he dragged me here. All the way from fantasy. By train,” she added while Sam waved, making Aiden laugh.

“You’re Jeff’s friend, right?” Sam nodded, introducing himself right after that. “I’ve seen you here before,” Aiden gave him a smile. “What can I get you? The usual, Y/N?”

“Yes!” Y/N’s usual consisted of pineapple juice, pomegranate syrup, vodka, and ice. It was cheap, didn’t taste cheap, would get you super drunk and you wouldn’t even notice.

Aiden looked at Sam then, waiting for him to order. “Oh, Sex On The Beach,” he said, giving Aiden a wide smile.

“Aw, how cute. Your drinks match,” Aiden added, making both of them laugh. He left to get the drinks ready, leaving them alone to talk again. Lady Gaga started playing and Y/N almost rushed Aiden to get their drinks ready faster because she couldn’t just miss Donatella, but she ended up just dancing the song right there, in front of the bar, Sam enjoying it more than he probably should.

When their drinks were ready, they left to look for Violet and Jeff.

Both the DJ and her boyfriend were dancing near the wall, close to the AC, drinks in hand, singing to Lady Gaga louder than they should. Jaehyeong - or Jeff - studies Foreign Language Education and will probably focus on teacher little kids when he’s done with college and Violet - besides being a great DJ by night - studies Sports Business by day, someone has to make the Patriots team great again and if no one is going to do it, she’s gonna do it herself.

Violet had mentioned to Jaehyeong - who she refused to call Jeff, who the hell immigrates from Korean and decides to call himself Jeff? She was not having it. She called him Je - Jae - for short that was it. Anyway, Violet had mentioned to Jae that she had seen Y/N and Sammy together and how weird it was to see them there at all. They had never thought about introducing their two loudest, most annoying, most energetic, unstoppable, always seem to know what they are doing but have no clue, friends. Yet life has made that decision for them.

The couple was discussion the odds - because they knew Lola and Devon had dragged them to a straight club of some sort that night for birthday celebrations - and got to the conclusion that maybe the loud souls were destined to meet. And yell all their way from the bar towards them - both Y/N and Sam are the types of people that you can hear them before you see them.

Even though the music was loud, Violet could steal hear Y/N describing her drink to Sam while he held her hand, guiding her through the crowd.

They let go when they reached their friends, Y/N moving to give Violet a hug and Sam to hug Jaehyeong.

“Okay, what’s the long story that got both of you here?” Violet said, making both Y/N and Sam laugh. Shakira was playing, letting everyone know that her hips don’t lie, while Sam introduced Y/N do Jaehyeong.

“Well, here’s the thing,” the girl started when the introductions were over. “Lola took me to Fantasy, I got drunk, she vanished. I was like super determined to change the song because who can stand electro for more than an hour, right? Anyway. I was going to the DJ both to ask for Havana and then I bumped into Lola and this guy, Devon,” when Y/N said the name, both Violet and Jae said a loud ah as if that also made a lot of sense and they have never thought about it. “She introduced us, I assumed he was a med student too, he wasn’t and I decided to leave because I wanted Havana to play… Then he showed up,” she said, pointing towards Sam.

“And we’ve been inseparable ever since,” he said, making Y/N both frown and laugh. “We did try to ask the DJ for Havana, but he said it would be impossible so we just moved to the bar and Y/N commented about Bittersweet. Turns out we both would rather be here than there so… Here we are,” he added then, smiling.

“Idiots,” Violet said, rolling her eyes. “But okay, I think now that everyone is here we should lose the little voice we have left, what do you think?”

“Speak for yourself, I totally lost mine during your set. As your boyfriend, it was my job to scream the loudest,” Jaehyeong said, making Violet roll her eyes at him and laugh, leaning in to give him a soft kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she said right before grabbing his wrist and pulling him to the dance floor. Sam and Y/N followed, both of them laughing their lungs out.

The thing with 00’s nights at Bittersweet is that people rarely have time to rest or talk or stop. It’s a great song after another after another. It’s someone’s favorite song right before someone else’s favorite song. The only bad thing about it is that it ends at 4am and people have to go home still drunk or already hangover

They danced to Ke$ha, Shakira, Lady Gaga, Britney and Beyoncé, sang from 30 Seconds to Mars to The Script and Coldplay. Both Y/N and Sam cried during Yellow, spilling their drinks everyone but on each other or themselves. Violet sang to Breakeven with so emotion that people could imagine she had been through a break up recently - which was most definitely not the case. They all raised their middle fingers during P!nk’s So What. By 4am everyone was too drunk, too tired and their voices were all gone.

The group only left the club because the people that work there started to walk around, telling everyone they had to close. All four of them said their goodbyes to everyone they know - Elias and Aiden included - and headed to the metro station. There was one train they could get together and then it was Sam, Y/N and Violet to one side and Jaehyeong to the other.

With one look, Violet decided to sleep over at Jaehyeong’s that night.

They all sat down, too tired to speak even, all of them dying for a slice of cold pizza. Y/N hoped her roommate, Leo, hadn’t finished theirs. And Sam hoped his roommate, Dylan, had bought them one.

It wasn’t until Violet and Jeff had to leave that the talk died down, leaving Y/N and Sam side by side on the train again. They kept talking about the night, about the songs, about their lives until Y/N rested her head on Sam’s shoulder. The girl closed her eyes, still talking and answering his questions.

And she kept talking when he started to run his fingers through her hair, not as much to not mess it too much, but enough to let the girl know he was doing it. There was a quiet “mhm” coming from her who just kept answering, making more questions, telling drunk jokes even.

Sam moved them a little when they were close to her station, letting her know they would be there soon. She pouted but sat up straight - ha - again.

“Give me your phone, I want to give you my number,” she said, rubbing her eyelids with the palms of her hands. They exchanged numbers while both yawned because of how late it was, because of how tired it was, because of how drunk they were.

“Send me a text when you get home,” Y/N said with a soft smile. “And it better be a picture of your kitchen, so I know it’s you and that you’re home, not kidnapped by the mafia,” she said, eyebrow raised and all.

Sammy smiled, shaking his head a bit, laughing. “Will do, don’t worry.”

Then they heard it, the warning that they would reach her stop soon. Y/N pouted, Sam pouted. She smiled, he smiled. She leaned closer, he leaned closer. They kissed. And it was both soft and drunk, messy and fun, confused and lovely, fast and needed. Y/N almost missed her stop, Sam almost wanted her to

“Don’t forget my picture!” she said as she rushed outside, waving goodbye.

Maybe going to Fantasy hadn’t been the worst night ever.

When Y/N got home she had a text from Sam.

“Hey, text me when you get home too. S”

She smiled at it, leaving her boot by the door. Leo insisted they didn’t wear their shoes inside since his family had done it their entire life and Y/N didn’t even like to wear shoes at home anyway, so she just agreed to it. The girl headed straight - ha - to the kitchen, fingers crossed she would still have some pizza.

And they did. Cheese pizza. With extra cheese.

She took a selfie biting the slice and sent it to Sam.

“I’m home! And I have pizza! Y/N”

Sam was still on his way home when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He decided to wait until he was inside his apartment to check who had sent him a text just in case. Leaving his shoes by the door and his coat on the hanger, Sam took his phone out of the pocket and laughed at the picture. Was it too early to make it his home screen image?

He moved to his kitchen then, found the pizza box and grabbed a slice of pepperoni pizza. Sam copied her pose, sending her a picture.

“WE HAVE THE BEST ROOMMATE! S”

“Fuck yeah, we do. Score. Y/N”

The reply came immediately after he had sent the picture.

They exchanged a few more texts until both were fed, showered and on their beds about to fall asleep. They had both agreed that going to that straight club wasn’t the worst idea they have ever had, but then made each other promise that they would never go back there ever in their lives.

It didn’t take long for both of them to be asleep - Y/N did leave Sam’s last text on read. But the next morning they would keep on talking and on the next weekend, they would go out together again and maybe in the next month, they would be dating. There was only one thing they knew for sure: Bittersweet was the only club they would go from now on.

What did you think of CANDY? Let me know!

#the rose #the rose fanfic #the rose fanfiction #woosung #woosung fanfiction #woosung fanfic #sam fanfic #sam fanfiction #the rose au #woosung au #candy

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clumsyclifford · 4 years ago

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hello!! i am back and on desktop this time. the blog is just as pretty. alex + yellow = v v attractive jfc. this is a long one so buckle in.

to begin: i hope you have the most fun on your day road trip and sing your heart out to atl and taylor swift. i love driving long distances and idk just driving in general is fun. have the absolute best time MWAH

my birthday is in november!! november 23 to be specific. i share it with miley cyrus which is something i always found to be very cool when i was growing up and watching hannah montana. it also means i am a sagittarius and funny little fact i realized is that my best friend is a gemini. alex and jack are also a sagittarius and a gemini. from being 13 i know that tyler and josh from twenty one pilots are also a sagittarius and a gemini. something about sagittarius and gemini besties idk.

also yeah!! ao3 year in review!! it's a bit complicated to figure out at first and if you read a lot the finding pages thing can be pretty tedious, but it's def worth it once you figure it out. it gives you a lot of different stats about everything you read and it's pretty cool. now i am going to go look at your fics to remember my favs. you deserve the praise so i am willing to offer it. jeez you write a lot i respect the motivation sm. you write quite a bit of angst and i won't lie i try to stay away from angst so i haven't read your fics that seem super angst-y based on the tags. BUT there are still so many i recall reading and loving nonetheless. on a quick scroll-through: i usually don't read high school AUs but "paint me in trust (i'll be your best friend)" was super adorable and lovely. "thank god i'm yours" is one of my favs iirc. also i love love love "it's not always easy (but i'm here forever)" like yes please romanticize alex gaskarth i love it sm. "i won't be silent (and i won't let go)" and "i fell asleep in a city that doesn't" are both super fluffy and romantic and are favs of mine. in case you haven't picked up on it i adore very fluffy and romantic fics lmao. alright i am continuing to scroll and there are so many more i could list that i love but this section is getting quite long. just know if it's about a kitchen or hotel rooms being for lovers i probably read it and adored it and that pov is so valid.

waterparks!! will not lie i only really started listening to them about 6 months ago having been distantly aware of their existence for several years by being a fan of bands in the same genre. listen as long as you let yourself be vaguely annoyed by awsten is prevents you from being in love with him. follow him on any social media platform for like a day and you'll be sick of him typing in nothing but all caps within hours. simply do not romanticize him and you can keep yourself from falling!! so this is coming from a slightly fake parx fan, but some of my favs by them have been peach (lobotomy), crave, numb, fuzzy, violet!, you'd be paranoid too, and lowkey as hell. that is a very songs-from-their-most-recent-album-heavy rec, but whatever. i did give the disclaimer about being a fake parx fan.

yeah hayley does have 2 solo albums now!! petals for armor and flowers for vases / descansos. pfa is the one i didn't really like upon first listen but has grown on me. i haven't even listened to the second one in its entirety oops but we won't mention it. dead horse is good but simmer (pretty sure that was the other single??) just ain't it for me. the album has some lovely songs but it's just a hit or miss album all the way through. some favs of mine on it include pure love, taken, crystal clear, watch me while i bloom, and why we ever. it's sorta a storyline album about healing if that adds anything to it?? but anyways. i started listening to paramore around the time after laughter dropped and it grew to be one of my fav albums in existence. idle worship is probably one of my fav songs like ever. i def understand being slightly put off by bands with songs that make religious references (me with twenty one pilots' earlier music that makes a lot more religious references considering i'm not religious whatsoever) but i think i am blinded by being in love with hayley williams and just ignore it. idk that she's like super religious?? she's addressed believing in god and stuff a few times but she's def not the "rub it in your face" type and if she's making refs in music more recently then they're subtle enough i'm not noticing them. ik albums like brand new eyes had a lot more because it was shortly after that the band split and the songwriting process was essentially her and ex-bandmate co-songwriter arguing about their religious beliefs (turns out he ended up being super homophobic and transphobic all based on his religion so do with that what u will and thank the clown for leaving). i feel u on the "i meant to start listening to them" because that's essentially how i started listening to them. i told myself i was going to and then finally forced myself to do it. fuck falling for awsten knight what's more risky is falling in love with hayley </3

also yeah!! you've articulated my feelings towards tde. every song is so vastly different that it's hard to like it all. #1 fan is pretty decent though, and that's not just my bias about finding both ross and his gf hot and a cute couple and getting to see them together and ross half naked in a mirror in the video nope not at all. he's my fav himbo!! he has no personality!! no thoughts head empty!! i still love him and his strawberry-growing saga on twitter tho <3 the hazard of being in love with ross lynch since i was 12. girlfriend better be a fucking banger and there's quite a few already released singles in the tracklist so i have hope. i believe my show is in chicago on november 19 which is a thursday. kinda sucks since i intentionally bought the chicago tix nearly two years ago (the show was originally supposed to be april 25 2020. lol.) because the show was on a saturday and i have to drive 3 hours to get there. obviously i can't speak for them as tde but r5 shows always fucking slapped and i can vouch for them (realized i haven't seem them live since 2016?? 5 YEARS?? wtf) so if u genuinely like them. would recommend going to see them.

anyways. i have not listened to luke's solo album yet. i plan on it. this has gotten so long but i tried to respond in all areas and even organized it in different paragraphs this time (thanks being on desktop!!). hope you are well. hope you have a lovely day. hmm what's a little "going on in my life" fact. i got new glasses a few days ago and my eyes essentially said fuck off because adjusting to the new prescription has left me with eyes that hurt and occasionally slightly nauseous. here is to hoping my eyes get their shit together. mwah LOVE YOU TOO - the other bella/cubs anon/idk

okay hi hello. i have put this off because holy hell it's long but let's do it. i am putting a cut because this whole thing is long even without my answer

first: the road trip was super fun thank you!!! i am intrigued by this information regarding sags and geminis, we should do some scientific inquiry. enquiry. i don't know if there's a difference between those words.

aha! well i tried the ao3 year in review thing and i would say it had about 55% accuracy but still i agree it's fun to look back at that kind of stuff. and i feel you on the angst thing i go through phases of writing angst-heavy stuff and then writing very fluffy stuff and it is entirely based on my mental state buuuut i have lots of fluff and i'm glad you found it all and that you liked it yay <333 KITCHENS ARE FOR LOVERS i will die on that fuckin hill. hotel rooms as well but primarily kitchens.

dfgjhgdlfkhgdfmj honestly i dont use twitter enough that i would see his tweets enough that that would bother me also the fact that he tweets in all caps means that i just picture him yelling everything he tweets which i find absolutely hysterical so i don't think that would help. i have added these parx songs to my listen asap playlist and will get to them when i get a chance thank you i am excited also i already know lowkey as hell and it slaps super hard so im very much lookin forward to the rest of these. merci merci

YEAH simmer was the one i didnt vibe with. and honestly i feel zero compulsion to get into hayley williams as a solo artist. i just don't vibe enough to want to do that so i doubt i'll be listening to her anytime soon but maybe if i hear the songs in passing or get super bored one night, idk who can really say. but yeah christianity typically puts me off of music (speaking as a very jewish bitch) although there are notable exceptions in the cases of thomas rhett and the driver era. i'm just not attached to hayley enough to be like ehhh this doesnt matter. does that make sense

FAVORITE HIMBO PLEASE HGSDFGDFGKLFGJ i dont follow him on twitter but i have seen some interviews of ross and rocky and tbh they're great i love the way ross speaks like i like his speech mannerisms and i like his FACE and HAIR and. yeah. i think hes pretty. and i think he and 5sos SHOULD collab i think that would be sexy as hell. can you imagine that. oh my god can you imagine a ross lynch/luke hemmings collab. i'm not even really talking to you anymore bella because i know you haven't listened to luke yet and don't have a stake in it but if anyone else is reading this long ass answer. ross & luke collab. okay im going to move on and not think about that now. but i probably won't see tde unless i get a job this semester because i'm trying to stop spending so much money on big indulgent things like concerts likeee i was in a really good habit of not spending that much and then suddenly i got paid for one summer and i was just goin Crazy and i need to dial it back. plus i wanna see ajr and noah kahan equally bad so like. i have to make some calls about priorities here. it's Much to think about

good luck to your eyes i'm sure your new glasses are hella cute tho!!! LOVE YOUUUUUUU

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1310miles · 6 years ago

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Thirty three

The St. George Marathon had long been on my “must-do” list for many reasons. First, it’s one of the most scenic marathons in the country. Second, it is notoriously fast due to its net altitude loss. And third, I needed a race in Utah.

I signed up in the spring and trained through the summer for the race. During training, I really concentrated on speed work, particularly the runs that I was supposed to do at race pace. In the past, I would slack on those runs and not put the effort forward to run fast. This season, I really pushed even when it was difficult. I surprised myself when it wasn’t overwhelmingly hard to run 10 miles at my Boston Qualifying pace (8:20). I was feeling very good going into the race, and in the back of my mind, felt that a BQ was within my reach.

The course for St. George begins 26.2 miles north of the city. I was up very early to catch a shuttle from the hotel to the next bus area that would then take runners to the start line. The loading was pretty efficient, but I was early. I assume as the morning went on things may have gotten a little more frantic as runners wanted to be sure not to be left behind.

I sat up at the front of the bus and tried to sleep a little. It was interesting to listen to the drivers on the c.b. radios. They were mostly volunteers, and some of them weren’t too sure how to get to the location of the start. I was glad to hear my driver confidently giving directions. These roads were pitch dark, steep and twisting.

When we arrived at the start camp, we were generously given gloves and a heat sheet. I was already wearing three shirts, a stocking cap, and pants. And I was freezing. We were up 6,000 feet and the wind was blowing through the mountains unrelentingly. My watch said it was 44 degrees, but it felt a lot colder. Race officials were prepared though. Extending for about 200 yards, they had set up bonfires every 10 yards or so. And they began lighting them. It was a sight to behold. Camps of strangers began to huddle around each bonfire, though not too close because the whipping wind made the safe area pretty far out.

And speaking of my watch, I was already irritated. After I had run my two mile shake out the day before, I guess I hadn’t seated it properly on the charger, and when I looked at it on the bus, the battery was only at 65%. There was no possible way it was going to last me the whole race at that point. I’ve had such trouble with watches, but this was user error and it made me even more mad. I decided to start it up and see how far it would get me, but I knew it wouldn’t be much.

I sat huddled next to a fire until the last possible moment, made my way to the portopotty and then got into the starting corral. I had taken off my leggings and the heat sheet, but I was sure I needed to start with all the rest of my layers. It was still completely dark and not warming up at all. The countdown came and the race started. I started up my watch as I crossed the tracking pad, with little hope that I would get any good info from it.

The announcer asked runners not to keep their heat sheets on them in the starting corral because they would be a trip hazard when the race started. Boy, were they right. Those things whipped in the wind and wrapped around legs. I only saw a couple, but it was definitely dangerous. Of course, also dangerous were the usual people who had positioned irresponsibly in the in the corral who were walking right away, and those who were darting in and out to get in front of them.

For the first hour or so, I was really cold. I kept thinking I would warm up, and though the sun did rise as I was hitting mile 4, it didn’t come up over the mountain to produce any direct light. I had thrown out my gloves too early and my right hand (farthest away from the sun) was distractingly cold. However, I was running great! I knew the first seven miles would be a gradual downhill, so I ran fast to put some minutes in the bank. As I always do, I was ignoring the rule of going out slowly, but with the downhill it felt like I would be making more of an effort if I put on the brakes.

I hovered around the 3:35 pace group through these miles. As we approached mile 7 and the first stretch of uphill, I casually joined onto them. The two leaders were young guys, and they introduced themselves at this point to take our minds off the impending hill. A discussion began about the hills in the race, and one woman was a real bummer when she listed all the hills and how difficult they were and how once you get to the top of this one at mile 7 it’s just the beginning. I quietly made the suggestion that she refrain from continuing the conversation, and slowly pulled away.

Miles 7 through 11 were an arduous uphill. Coming into that stretch, my per mile pace was 8:00. I told myself that if I got to an average 9:00 per mile by mile 11, I would still be able to make up the time to get back to my BQ. Amazingly, my pace didn’t fall by that much! I really had been training on hills so maybe it was all paying off. I continued to blaze through miles despite the slightly slower pace. By mile 11 I was at 8:20 average per mile, which is my BQ pace! And I knew some major downhills were coming, so I was feeling really confident.

The landscape was really beautiful. We were running on a highway, but it was carved into mountains and along canyons, not a house or person in sight. Most of it was rock, some beautiful red, and sections were grasses and deserts. The sun behind the mountains to the east was particularly amazing as it cast a rainbow in the sky before it crested.

I hit halfway and felt amazing. The miles were going by faster than I’ve ever experienced. Obviously, that’s because I was running faster than I ever have, but I wouldn’t have expected this. On my typical races, I am a tourist. I’m running along enjoying the scenery. Sometimes I’m bored and have to sing songs in my head, or list the Cubs’ starting lineup. In this race, I never had a thought in my head other than about my time, the course, or my form. Tragic, because if I had been going slower, I would have enjoyed the views more!

The most epic moment of the course was at mile 15. I was still screaming along, when we rounded a bend and there was a road sign stating the angle of the downhill would be 6+%. I took a deep breath and went forward. It was almost all I could do to not roll head over heels. It was so steep that some people were actually walking. I continued my general practice of trying to relax my entire body when going downhill. I think it was really conserving my energy throughout the race, and it was also really exciting to feel this pull of gravity without fighting it. I had to take a picture here too, because it was undoubtedly the most beautiful part of the race.

Miles 16 through 18 were supposed to even out flat, so I had to refocus and start working some different muscles again. Brett was planning to meet me around mile 16 so that was going to be a good boost. The race had sent info out to say that spectating this race would be difficult because it was going down just one highway, which was closed, and that very few roads could meet up. The only official spot they could recommend was in a state park, at mile 16. Parking would be limited, so you could buy parking in advance for $7, which I did, and prepped Brett on directions. The best laid plans though. As he has found in so many races, there was just no way to cross the race route and get to this parking lot. And if he had, he would be stuck there all day. Try as he might, he had to bail on that vantage point and find a new one.

Of course, I didn’t know this, so as I passed through this section, I was scanning everywhere to see Brett. He wasn’t anywhere, and the crowd started to thin, and I thought “oh no, he just missed seeing me and now he won’t know where I am.” This is wrong, because he was tracking me on his phone, but my marathon brain had a panic moment, and in that moment, I decided to call him. Very unusual, as I don’t think I’ve ever made a phone call while running a marathon, and also, I was running faster than ever so I don’t know how I had the physical coordination. I may have been slightly affected by the altitude. Nonetheless, I called his number and told him that I missed him at 16. He said he was a little bit down the road, and he would see me soon.

With that I hung up and started looking for him again. At this point I was also really fed up with carrying my phone. I was using an accessory that tucked into my shorts and clasped with a magnet to hold my phone and my Gu packets. It usually works ok, but that day, I just couldn’t get the magnet to grab and the whole thing kept slipping down my shorts. Way down. It was very distracting and uncomfortable. I spent so much time fishing for that thing and trying to reclasp it. Again, very difficult when running 8 minute miles.

Finally around mile 17 I see Brett on the sidelines waving and smiling. As I take another step toward him, he seems to be looking down, and grabbing something on the ground. I see him talking to someone, and he looks stressed. From that distance, it looked like he was reaching into his bag on the ground, and asking someone to help him find something inside. I thought to myself “I don’t need anything from the bag! Don’t worry about it!” But as I get close enough and begin to pass him, I see that he is holding up aa woman who is unconscious! I made a wide eyed look at him, and he looked at me disappointingly, and I shouted “it’s ok!” and I ran along. I was sad that we didn’t get to share good vibes, but I was proud that he was there to help this woman. Turns out, she was just spectating the race next to him, when all of a sudden she just sank down to the ground. That’s what he was reaching for. Her husband and Brett lifted her up and she was out cold. There was aa police officer right there that took over for Brett, and she did finally come to. No idea why that happened to her though.

Brett looked around and saw they didn’t need him, so he quickly put a plan together to speed down the road and see me again. It was much less dramatic this time and a great boost! I was dying to know the story though!

At mile 18 we were hit with a pretty daunting uphill. To this point and through it, I never walked. Not even at the water stations. This may actually be the first marathon that I can say that for. The hill was difficult, but it almost felt good on my legs which had been so abused by the downhills.

By this time, I was approaching an hour remaining for me to hit my Boston Qualifying time of 3:40. I really wanted to give myself some cushion and finish at 3:38 though. And I was running just fast enough. In fact, I was running ahead of the 3:35 pace group, and I started thinking I may actually be able to beat 3:30.

My legs were screaming for mercy. Unlike other races, I wasn’t mentally tired, or even physically exhausted. It was more like I was in pain. Every step felt a little like being hit by a car. It started to get in my head, and I began surrendering to the negative. I do this thing where I put a really awful grimace on my face so that spectators can see how unhappy I am. It’s silly to do this, and really only uses up energy, but for some reason it’s what I do when I’m mad that I’m running.

It was getting hot as I came into mile 23 and reached the city of St. George, and I was crabby, but starting to feel like the end was near. Those last three miles can seem really long though. My time was looking great, and slowly it began to occur to me that if I could maintain, I would definitely beat my BQ. The distraction of the city and the spectators offset some of the pain.

A great thing the race did was put a mile marker at 25.2. Near the end, that last 0.2 miles really starts to nag at you because you know you won’t be done at mile 26. With this mile marker I could really believe that I only had one mile to go, and that I was going to get my Boston Qualifier. I started to cry, sob actually. It felt so amazing. As I was about to turn to the final stretch, I saw Brett again on the sidelines! I was crying and so happy about my BQ, but he totally confused me that he didn’t seem overly excited and didn’t even say anything about my pace. I couldn’t figure it out…but later he explained that he never knows my pace because he doesn’t use the race trackers and doesn’t know what time I start. Ha! After all these races I learned something!

Pulling through to the finish line and I see my time in the 3:32’s. I slowed ever so slightly so I could cross the line of my 33rd marathon in 3:33. It was amazing. I was so happy, but of course no one around me had any idea what I had just accomplished: qualifying for Boston with 7 minutes to spare and beating my personal best of 3:48.

However, I didn’t know for sure…because literally as I crossed the finish line and stopped my watch, it died! Amazingly, the watch kept my time for the entire race with starting at 65% battery. Of course, I knew I had gotten the 3:33 but without my watch confirming it, I felt a little like I had dreamed it. A text came through on my phone from Elissa, who had been tracking me online, and she said, “did you just qualify for Boston?” I texted her back and asked for my official time, and when she said 3:33:08 I just cried. I texted Brett and said, “I just qualified for Boston” and he was like “what?” And I was like “OMG you didn’t know…”. He said he was crying and so happy for me, but also trying to figure out how to come find me at the finish line. In the meanwhile, I was texting everyone with so much pride. I couldn’t believe it…my life’s running goal was finally accomplished.

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rilenerocks · 6 years ago

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I wonder if all people are born equipped for life’s passions. And if they are, is the capacity for them the same for everyone? Does everyone start out with a genetically determined amount or is there an infinite level that is sometimes achieved and sometimes not, depending on what happens to each of us? I’ve spent quite a bit of time thinking about this. Some people seem like they’re boiling over with passion and others act so subdued that it’s hard to know if they’ve every experienced a single moment of that powerful sensation.

I think passion has lots of different connotations, both positive and negative. Some passions are conscious and others lurk below our mind’s surface. They can be enriching and growth-inducing or deleterious and damaging to our health. Passion can be enthusiasm and avid devotion. It can be overwhelming in both rage and love. It can be intense sexual attraction. It can be vehemence and anger. Probably it’s combinations of a wide range of feelings and this can be very confusing. I know that I’ve felt all types of passions ever since I was a little kid.

When I was about five, I got a chameleon. I loved it so much I squeezed it to death. What a horror. I was way too young to understand the implications of the potential for destruction associated with a positive feeling. But I learned more and more about that as I grew up. My parents told me I was born loving everyone and everything and that people loved me back. My mom said she was afraid someone might steal me, most particularly my dad’s sister, someone she detested. My older brother told me he first remembered being truly happy when I came along. Sad for him but good for me. I did love so many things with a passion. I loved my parents. I loved warm milk. I loved animals. I loved fudgsicles and chocolate popsicles. I loved playing outside. I loved school and school supplies, especially crayons, erasers and glue. So I guess I started out with my fair share of passions.

As I got older, I extended all that passionate love to people. I loved my friends. I started to love boys. I loved sports and movies. I loved justice. So much passion. It wasn’t long before I started getting knocked around by reality. Reality was that just because I loved what I loved didn’t mean that I was going to reap big returns on my passionate investments. I loved school but after 9th grade, it mostly bored me to death and as I went off on my own to learn, my grades tanked. I had just enough natural talent to take me into college but nothing about that structure worked any better for me at that level.

Then I realized that the just world I dreamed of may as well have been in a galaxy far, far away. The disappointment from that discovery ignited my negative passions which are still going strong today. Always something to be furious about and to fight against. Fuel for my engine.

I loved participating in sports but that brought me negative attention. I wanted to be an attractive girl but my youthful participation brought me the nickname “moose” which had a profoundly negative effect on the joy I found as an athlete. In my junior year of high school I cut 60 PE classes and as a senior, had to make them all up, two for one, in order to graduate. On swimming days, I was soaking wet on and off for hours. But I still loved sports although I became more of an observer rather than a participant. I still have my swimming but at one point I dreamed of smashing home runs and spiking volleyballs for a long time. I made it back to volleyball as an adult, playing while pregnant. Maybe that vibe is why my daughter turned out to be an exceptional athlete in a time that was somewhat kinder to women than the days of my youth. Although not yet kind enough. But let me stay on track here.

I was a passionate friend and potentially a passionate girlfriend when I was a kid. I fell in love easily. And I stayed there. There’s another component to my particular brand of passion – loyalty. My husband and my kids always told me I was the most loyal person they ever knew. That’s probably a fair assessment. Once committed to someone, at least in my own mind, if not in actual practice with the person I’ve sekected, I stayed put. I’m hard to get rid of once I’ve made my choices. Despite the fire that burns in me so frequently, I’m not the type to flame out. My burn is slow and long-lasting. A lot of disappointment and pain have to happen before I walk away from someone. I guess it’s fair to say that I have personal standards of how people should treat one another, my rules, for sure. But I’ll bend and accommodate for a long time before I give up on a person. Over the years, I’ve developed what I call my permanent list. I have occupants on that list who said or did something egregious enough so that I know I’ll never forget it, at least as long as my brain is functioning. But for the most part, that list is of those individuals who are beyond my forgiveness. I know that’s not a very politically correct attitude in current culture. Forgiveness is a real thing advocated around me. Being unforgiving is supposed to be bad for you, toxic and unhealthy.

Your Greatest Strength

Social intelligenceBeing aware of the motives/feelings of others and oneself; knowing what to do to fit into different social situations; knowing what makes other people tick.VIRTUE CATEGORY: HUMANITY

Forgiveness Forgiving those who have done wrong; accepting others’ shortcomings; giving people a second chance; not being vengeful.VIRTUE CATEGORY: TEMPERANCE

I took a personality trait test from a Yale-sponsored class a few months ago. You answer all these questions and a list of your character traits ranked from best to worst is generated. My best trait was emotional intelligence, followed by loyalty and my worst was the inability to forgive. Sounded right. And it works for me. Michael was always trying to get me to let things go and be more forgiving. He said my hot rage and grudge holding was going to damage me physically. Well, look who’s still here and who isn’t? I’m living on the terms that suit me.

I guess I got the most bashed around emotionally by my first serious college boyfriend. I thought I was going to marry him. The truth is, I thought I was going to marry everyone I ever loved, going all the way back to when I was five years old. But this was the first genuinely reciprocated love I’d felt as a grownup and despite warning flags about not being ready and immaturity, I was convinced that if I fought hard enough, I could make this happen, even with evidence to the contrary popping up regularly and painfully. We were together on and off for three years. One morning after feeling that we’d had the best night of our life, I woke up to him telling me that we needed to break up and that things just couldn’t work. I was astonished, hurt and enraged. As he made his way out of my apartment, I followed him into the street, screaming at the top of my lungs that he would never find anyone who loved him the way I did and that he’d regret this decision for the rest of his life. My roommate and another friend dragged me back into the house as his metallic blue Chevy Hornet pulled away.

The fact is, he did figure that out later but by that time, I’d mostly recovered and was with Michael with whom I spent the rest of his life. Sadly, not the rest of our lives. Michael helped me rebuild myself and to believe that I could trust someone and reestablish my belief that a lifelong positive passion was possible. I’d already figured out that I could hang on to my negative passions about feminism, politics, economic justice, the health of the planet and the like. But I wasn’t sure about people. One of the places I put my positive passions was to sports, both teams and individuals. I could afford to invest myself in those without personal disappointments that had left me flattened and despairing. I picked my loyalties and stayed with them. I had favorite teams and players. I watched everything, football, basketball, hockey, swimming and became an Olympics junkie. As time went on I added tennis and soccer. I still remember the uniform numbers of those individuals who for whatever reason, won my heart. Jean Beliveau, #4 – Montreal Canadiens. Doug Mohns, #11 – Chicago Blackhawks. Doug Buffone, #55 – Chicago Bears. Fred Biletnikoff, #25 – Oakland Raiders. I could go on and on. A lot of my friends were surprised that I was so into sports, as many of them, particularly the contact ones dominated by males, seemed in direct conflict with my feminist politics. But I didn’t care what it seemed like. My personal passionate commitments had cost me a significant amount of emotional angst. I think I was born with a fairly deep reservoir for giving but I’d come to realize that when I put myself out there, I’d best be prepared to be doing it because I needed to for me and not because of what I expected in return. I’d had a lot of disappointment from family, friends and lovers. With sports, the worst that could happen was that your favorites could lose. The pain threshold for those things was tolerable for me, easier than all the personal disappointments. At least, it always had been for many years. When the silent switch happened, I really wasn’t aware of it at all. I’ve only just figured out that my lines had gotten blurred below the surface of my consciousness because of what life dealt out to me. I was too busy in the living of it to recognize that I’d set myself up for a whole new undoing.

So these sports. As a Chicagoan and a southsider, I loved the White Sox. I branched out and embraced the Cubs. I was a hockey fan and I sat with my dad as he agonized over DePaul’s basketball team. Except for golf, I’d watch almost anything. Eventually, tennis got my attention. I watched the women, Billie Jean King, Chris Evert, Martina Navratilova, Steffi Graf and of course, finally Venus and Serena. I admired their skills and grit. But I always loved the boys and most particularly, the ones who behaved well, rarely had tantrums or broke their rackets and in general, seemed to play against that spoiled brat type. No John McEnroes or Ilie Nastases for me.

I liked the cool Swede Bjorn Borg, who played like a smooth machine. After him, it was Pete Sampras, who was just a kid when he started and had a long 14 year career, complete with those beautiful serves and the tenacity to keep playing after vomiting on the court from sickness and dehydration. The civilized guys. I made an exception for Jimmy Connors sometimes because he had high entertainment value. There were a few Australians thrown into the mix and the Croat Goran Ivanisevic who had sporadic talent but took forever to win the big tourney. But in the middle of Pete’s reign, Roger Federer appeared on the scene. And that was all she wrote for me.

Federer broke into the big time as a teenager and was kind of a punk for awhile. But the tragic car wreck death of his Australian coach when he was 21 was a life changing event for him. Between that and his relationship with his older girlfriend who eventually became his wife, he pulled himself together and became who he is today, a brilliant champion, a genuinely loved public figure and a generous philanthropist. In short, my favorite tennis player.

Federer’s been playing for 21 years. I’ve watched him countless times and always enjoyed his grace, elegance and tenacity. For most of those years I watched him and the other players during the four major tournaments, the Australian Open, the French Open, Wimbledon and the US Open. There was a lot of other tennis happening off my radar, many tournaments and point systems for rankings. I didn’t really care about that stuff. I was happy with what I saw, read articles so I had some idea of the background for the majors, and was generally content.

When Michael got sick seven and a half years ago, that was where I was at. As we processed his disease and what we knew would be a limited future, I was trying to get a handle on interests that would distract me from the constant pressure of anticipating death. Michael liked tennis too and had played for years as a young man. Often we watched matches together. But as time went by and we rode the waves of anxiety, I started to seek out more and more information about tennis. We’d switched cable tv providers and the Tennis Channel was included in our package. I realized that there were all kinds of tournaments and that Roger participated in lots of them. He was famous for holding records in places that had never crossed my radar. And we had a DVR. I started taping everything. When I had nothing to do, I started watching more tennis. I liked other players but Roger was the one. As the months of Michael’s illness progressed, we both labored under the strain of wondering how much time we had left to enjoy our life. Sometimes I drove my reserved husband crazy, wanting to talk through everything all the time. He was in treatment, often tired and in need of rest. I had lots of time on my hands but I wanted to stay nearby, soaking in every minute of life with Michael. So I turned to the box where Roger waited in the DVR. He was such a joy to watch. Healthy, easy and an amazing contrast to my precious guy who was carrying such a huge load. Over time, I decided that who needed a DVR when you could set an alarm and watch a tournament live from Australia, China or the Middle East? We didn’t really have a normal routine or schedule any more so I could make my own hours. As years went by, Federer’s wins or losses began to affect me more and more. The worst time came in 2016 when he sustained a knee injury while bathing one of his kids. He decided to withdraw from the professional tour for months while he rehabbed thoroughly and tried to decide if he could return and play at the championship level again.

I was worried about it but at the time I was really focused on the stretch of good health Michael was enjoying so we took advantage of an excellent fall and traveled a lot. I had concerns about some signs of immune system letdown in Michael but as late as December, 2016, we were in our happy place at Starved Rock and life seemed even and predictable. Unfortunately that languorous period was short-lived. By the first week of January, Michael’s behavior was unusual. His appetite was diminished and he had some odd moments when he wasn’t making a lot of sense. We went in to see our oncologist who did some bloodwork and ordered a scan. Everything came back clean. So on we went. Things got stranger and stranger. I began to believe that there was an occult return of Michael’s cancer and began a nagging process that drove him nuts. He wanted to leave well enough alone and I didn’t. We began bickering. Right around the same time, Roger was getting ready to emerge from his medical exile and enter the Australian Open.

As days went by, Michael’s behaviors became odder and odder and I kept dragging him back to the doctors. Meanwhile, Roger was winning match after match. I was up in the night, watching him in real time and trying to avoid arguing with Michael who was annoyed with me. The doctors kept finding nothing. On January 29th, 2017, I had the pleasure of watching Roger win his first major since being injured.

On January 31st, I prevailed upon Michael to let me bring him to the ER to see if we could get him a brain MRI, the only test he hadn’t had. By that night we had the dreadful diagnosis of carcinomatous meningitis, a rare manifestation of certain solid tumors that’s becoming more common as people survive their original cancers for longer periods of time. We were devastated, Michael even more than me as he’d believed the continuing positive reports while I knew something was terribly wrong. We had a 32 day siege in the hospital and then I was able to bring him home in early March. The median survival time for this disease was 4 weeks from diagnosis. Michael hung on for almost seventeen.

Meanwhile, the French Open began close to the end of Michael’s life and I continued to watch through June 11th. I remember thinking how ironic it was that Roger’s playing bookended the last months of Michael’s life. When July came, along came Wimbledon. I watched all of it and Roger emerged victorious. That highlighted my summer of preparing for the celebration of Michael’s life which was planned for December. When that was over, I stared down 2018, trying to figure out what to do with myself. I started this blog on January 1st. I was in the midst of planning my 50th high school reunion and also wanted to do a little traveling.

I finally landed on the Western-Southern Open tennis tournament in Cincinnati, a chance to see Roger in the flesh for the first time. As he was getting older I figured I’d better get that bucket list item done. Additionally, the Laver Cup, Roger’s creation was happening in Chicago, at the same time as my reunion.

I bought tickets to that as well. Both events were wonderful and I was so glad I went. Roger won some and lost some and I felt satisfied. But as time passed I found watching him, especially when he lost, to become more and more stressful. I was aware of the negative feelings but not sure what to do about them. Each match got worse and worse. This was not supposed to be my relationship with sports. I was irritable, frustrated and hostile. I could barely stand being with myself. When my son was around he tried to be comforting but I was basically so obnoxious he’d wind up leaving me to my own devices. I started thinking really hard, going back over the seven and a half year history of Michael’s disease, death and this mourning period. A lot has happened to me during that time. I spent a lot of emotional capital during those years. I spent an extraordinary amount of love on my marriage, so much that I often wonder if I can love anyone or anything new ever again. Even a pet. And then just this past week in the midst of an ugly US Open for Roger, I recognized what I’m referring to as a silent switch. Somewhere back there, as I recognized that my time with Michael was running away, I put a lot of my heart into Roger, a sports guy who was supposed to be a distraction, not someone personal. As his fortunes ebb and he gets closer to retirement I realized that my outsized reactions are more like living through an intimate loss instead of just watching an athlete’s life come to its normal conclusion. I realized that I’d transferred some of my feelings about Michael’s absence to a weird anticipatory despair about Roger’s career coming to an end. How bizarre is that? Probably not very. Roger’s trajectory is another ending, a metaphor for what I’ve been coping with for a very long time. I didn’t recognize exactly when it happened but I know it did. And acknowledging the inappropriate outsized reactions I was having helped me see the need to face this metaphor for what is – a familiar road twisted into an inappropriate level of importance. It’s time to set it back in a more normal place. Ironically, during this week of internal probing and exploring, I’ve been outside in my garden a lot. I had no trouble identifying two adult butterflies, feeding, still strong but battered by predators, perhaps by wind. But still living out there in the world. I was aware that I identified with them. No silent switching in this case. Awareness is hard and often mysterious. I’m going to keep going after it. It’s better than living in the dark.

The Silent Switch I wonder if all people are born equipped for life’s passions. And if they are, is the capacity for them the same for everyone?

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