#i deserve for my brain off easy entertainment to be good too

[fkapommel]

A Rant about Bridgerton s3 from a person who doesn't care about Bridgerton

I'm just a hater who is an optimist at heart. On Polin, the Mondrich's, Michaela Stirling, and Cressida.

I haven't read the Bridgerton books, and I don't believe there is any validity to a "but this isn't book accurate!" argument because Bridgerton the Show was marketed as a diverse, representational adaptation that liked the bones of Quinn's idea but made something better. And I, a lay person, have never seen as much virtroil and hatred towards the showrunners as I have seen this season using that exact argument that has never been uttered before because, near unanimously, all fans agreed that the showrunners were making a better story that 90s Quinn ever could. So many people, readers and non-readers alike, were disappointed with the handling of this season.

Peneolope and Colin

Polin was ignored during THEIR season for conventionally "pretty" and "thin" romances. There was zero character growth for either Penelope or Colin individually and as a couple in their own season. We are never shown why Colin loves Peneolope or why he has grown to appreciate her Whistledown project beyond dialogue - "I've learned that they are both you" what the hell does that even mean. Most of the season is spent with them physically apart making dumb faces at each other at dances with no cinemagraphric tension being built - few body closeups, boring musical cues, meaningless and repetitive body/facial choreography (I'm looking at you, open-mouthed contoured Colin) - when all this and more were utilized successfully in Anthony and Kate's season. People were thirsty as fuck to watch a white man get fucked by a darker skinned woman (as was i), but not even the showrunners could be assed about the romance between their only plus-sized character and a Bridgerton. We spent more time building up Francesca's relationship with Kilmartin over penting up Peneolope's romance - her feelings of tragedy, hopelessness. Peneolope has always been overlooked and truly believed that was her fate forever - even nearly agreeing to a marriage that would literally leave her ignored for years on end - and that was the central tension of the season. She knows who she is, she knows that she is love-worthy, talented, and intelligent, but will Colin? DOES Colin? Oh, he does, and he randomly decides that mid-way through the season. And then fumbles her so hard to the point of insulting her very character - calling her manipulative and scheming after they slept together - when the true authorship of Whistledown is revealed. There was not enough tension built nor sustained to carry his hatred for his wife during those episodes, and no, a couple shots where he looks at his very hot wife and thinks "damn, she is hot" is enough.

This season we should have seen what his mother told him - that he is incredibly self-sacrificial and puts other people's (his quoted siblings') happiness before him - in action during Pen and his plot to get a suitor. That device could have been both means and method of Colin's realization that Pen was his true match all along by being forced to list her accolades, scrutinize her face and body for physical compliments and inticements in order to hype her up for other suitors and recognizing her intelligence and manner of speak in Whistedown because of their newfound constant proximity instead of having to be told about her authorship and realizing off-screen their similarity (which, I'll mention, has never been demonstrated in all three seasons. As a person who writes very different to how they speak, I understand that there is some grace to be had here, but Penelope's dialogue does not include any Whistledownisms at ALL and there absolutely should be some demonstrable similarities, especially this season.) That's how Colin could have NOTICED her. In all, their romance was extremely fumbled in favor of having "prettier," "skinnker" bodies on screen because the showrunner had no faith in Nicola's verified abilities in being a leading lady in a larger body (which isn't even plus-sized UGH different argument). Pen has been in love with Colin since the Featherington's "moved in next door" - where was any of that? We learn more about Kate Sharma's childhood in her season than we do about Polin's, the season where its plot important. No flashbacks, no reminescing, no reasons given why Pen even liked Colin in the first place (could he have done something for her, perhaps noticing her in some character-important way, and thats why she developed a crush? No. He's simply a cute guy next door.) We don't even reminisce on Colin's recent worldly travels that, at the start of the season, have completely transformed him into a lady's man or taught him how to assume that character-type. We don't see Pen's life without him to contrast with her life with him back, but different. We don't see the strain on Colin trying to hold up this facade of being a confident womanizer, nor do we see any consequence of his womanizing, just distant shots of jealous Pen. Why be different, why be different now, what shaped and taught his transformation? Did he think of Pen when he was gone? All important questions that would've better characterized him.

Colin magically realizes he's been tortured for a few days seeing Pen talk with Debling a few times (who is completely forgotten about in Pt 2 holy shit I totally forgot about him), then is so mean to her realizing she's Whistledown, then magically falls in love with her again, and then oop- there's babies. Which i guess wasn't a surprise, but rubbed me the wrong way as neither of Polin has talked about wanting kids at all. In all other seasons, we see our pair demonstrate their abilities as viscountess or duchess, and we see them discuss the importance of having children plus an understanding of what it's like being parents. We didn't get any of that from Polin and seeing them suddenly thrust into parenthood was a shock to their characterization. They're love story is allowed to be juvenile, girl-/boy-next-door fantasizing, and rushing past Penelope's pregnancy and their transformation into parents was needless, leaving more questions than answers.

Mondriches

Why, the hell, was the Mondrich's selling their bar so goddamn important to this season?? This show is called Bridgerton, about the Bridgertons, but we have sacrificed necessary screen time on Colin Bridgerton's characterization and romance with Pen for filler than ultimately means nothing! He sells the bar anyway! This show was billed on meaningful representation of its diverse cast. You can't just make a nothing burger conflict about if this Black family suddenly thrust into being titled when the husband is weirdly attached to a bar where he serves whisky to his majority white clientelle. A Black family suddenly needing to learn the rules and decorum of the nobility is an interesting storyline in the world of Bridgerton, which characterizes itself has post-racial. Learning all the minute rules of etiquette is crafted to be impossible to an outsider, so how does this family of outsiders learn it? Where is the conflict that their inheritance rests on their child becoming the legal head of the family? There is so much to be explored here. In this concept rests a meaningful and emotionally convincing plot, but all we got was "Dude you need to sell your bar." "But I don't wanna! ............... I sold my bar." If youre going to waste screen time on one of the very few depictions of a plus-size character finding love that doesn't center her weight in its conflict, at least make it not so fucking boring.

Michaela Stirling and Francesca

And finally. Here we get to Michaela Sterling, who, based on the audience reaction, came on screen, showed her whole vag, killed beloved character Michael Sterling with a chainsaw, and hypnotized innocent Francesca Bridgerton in lesbianism. Good God people. Get a grip.

As a person not in the fandom, I have never seen this level of disgust and anguish over an adaptational change than to the introduction of Michaela Stirling. To anyone who hates this change and loves Mr. "Im going to tie you to the bed until you get pregnant": you already have that. No one is taking the books away from you. But a television adaptation of the books is not FOR you, it's for a whole new audience that pays homage to the original readership. If you cannot handle this change, stop watching.

To all of the television viewers who make a monolith of this outcry, accusing all nay-sayers of homophobia: get a grip. It is indeed emotionally difficult to see your beloved books get a poor adaptation or when screen adapters make changes that you see will make the narrative weaker. Literally every fandom that has had an adaptation has acted this way once or twice. And readers make some important concerns for the impending narrative! By introducing Michaela right after an entire season of this slow, easy, quiet romance between Francesca and John, the show has retroactively trashed every time that Fran has assured her family that she is truly in love with her now-husband (a fact that is important when that said husband is to be lost in the coming seasons). Fran and Stirling were demonstrating a real, true love that differed from the steamy, bodice-ripping lust the concept of Bridgerton was founded on. Their love was, may I remind you, incredibly popular to neurodivergent viewers who saw many traits of ND represented in Fran's character and her relationship with John. Her constant conflict with her mother and the queen who doubted that their love was valid because it did not behave in the same sensual way theirs had and then Violet's eventual approval of their relationship is important representation for love not based on lust and sexuality but on shared psychologies and interests. So far in Bridgerton, it has been illustrated that the only correct and long-lasting type of marriage is one based in wanting to fuck the pants off your partner; JoFran complicates this narrative. By then introducing Michaela and having Fran stutter over her words in compliance to Violet's memory of "forgetting the most familiar of words" when meeting her husband completely erases everything JoFran fought for and meant. "Wait, on second though, everything that these two characters stood for was in fact wrong and being so horned up that you forget your name is the only true start to a fulfilling relationship." This alludes to an eventuality that Fran's personality will be altered even more, that more parts of Francesca are indeed wrong and need to be changed for her to live a fulfilling marriage. (Yes, I understand that this has not happened yet, but the complete reversal of her relationship that she championed for an entire season makes one wary that even more is on the horizon). Further, Francesca's narrative is centralized around grief. How can that be actualized in the show if she falls out of love with her husband before her marriage night, when she's already lusting after her cousin by marriage? The Micheala introduction as it is in season 3 completely rewrites Francesca's character in the show and foreboding for an even greater change in seasons to come. There is an in-narrative issue with Michaela that is not reducible to homophobia but a genuine concern for the narrative.

Secondly, I have seen some people state that miffed viewers are upset about Francesca's bisexuality but not Eloise's implied lesbianism because they were comforted by Eloise's adherence to gay stereotypes, such as her "militant" feminism, her "not-like-other-girls" black sheepism, her hatred and disgust of men and the institution of marriage, and her constant, deep, near-homoerotic relationships with women. Francesca, in contrast, is princessly, beautiful in the same manner as Daphne, modest and sexually inhibited, concerned with feminine pursuits including marriage, and has not expressed an interest in women until her introduction to Michaela. To these people I say this: stop giving television showrunners so much grace. Michaela's introduction was meant as a shock to the audience. It was not meant to retroactively construct Francesca as a bisexual, locked in a tower of heterosexuality. It was meant to drum up just as much media buzz as it has. It is a hook for the next season meant to draw in new viewers - a queer audience scrounging for representation in the carpet hairs - and their run-of-the-mill audience member who pointed at their TV, exclaimed WHAT!?, and who is now hooked to discover how this new plotline will play out in the next season. It will keep their audience curious for however many years it takes for B4 to come out. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you were not surprised by Fran's sudden bisexuality. There is a reason that Eloise's stereotypicality is shorthand for gay, and the fact that Benedict and now Fran have been confirmed as bisexual if not homosexual lessens the probability that Eloise's narrative will be queered. Bridgerton creators do not care about true representation, they care about providing for a wide enough audience. That's why we only got canon queer characters (and queer sex) until the end of s3 - when people were already hooked. But they can only include so much before people are turned away. Think to yourself, why has there been no main dark-skinned, or truly plus-sized, or blemished, or disabled, or asexual, or poor, or effiminate man, or butch woman, or trans* love interest? It's because diversity and representation have limits.

Queer people deserve good representation, and we deserve for that representation to be narratively treated well. We do not deserve shock marketing or the ruining of hard built plot and characterization so that creators can win Diversity Bingo. (Likewise, this goes for racial diversity as well).

Forgotten Cressida

And lastly, and most shortly, what the fuck did they do with poor Cressida. I have never been more let down by the show than how they villanized, then sympathized with, and then shipped off Cressida to a doom of her worst nightmares when her storyline could have genuinely be salvaged by inhabiting the Whistledown role - being an outcast, but a respected one that is still flits about society - or by allying herself more with Eloise and leaning on her for support. But no. She is forgotten by society, by her family, and the only person she has ever called a friend, who was in the perfect position to be a queer provider for her. That shit hurted.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Another Vox enthusiasts I see? Well if I may...

Vox with a GN Hacker reader who was turned entirely digital after manifesting in hell. They don’t even have a physical form they’re completely stuck within Hell’s databases, their skills are obviously useful to him so he offers them a place on the team which they immediately accept on the condition that Vox makes them a vessel to inhabit because holy shit are they going stir crazy.

I’m not entirely sure how Vox’s abilities work but given he can at the very least project himself onto screens and the like I get the feeling that he’d plug himself into the system whenever they talk. Mostly because it keeps them grounded, they’re alot calmer when he’s actually next to them and not looking in through a screen.

I hope this didn’t get too wordy or long I just wanted to be thorough because I have massive brain rot for this techno mf-

Take your time with this request! Kisses darling <3

-📽

Dude, does anyone else remember having Shimeji's or that internet episode from Fairly Odd Parents? Cause that's what I'm about to write!

Digital Pet [Vox x Digital Reader]

When you first manifested in Hell, you were completely unaware that you had ended up in Hell itself. Because instead of manifesting in the overcrowded circle designated for sinners, you instead found yourself in a digital landscape. Countless screens surrounded you like a million portals. You could see the different shapes and sizes of the devices being used in hell and could even alter whether or not you saw what was being displayed on the screen or what the screen could see itself like a window to Hell.

At first, you had a massive meltdown. From what you could tell, you were the only one in this digital Hell custom-tailored to leave you isolated despite having access to every device in Hell. You wondered what you did to deserve the extra punishment layered on top of not being good enough for heaven, especially since you hadn't done anything particularly evil when you were alive.

You lost track of how much time passed. You entertained yourself by jumping from system to system. You'd watch shows that sinners binged, and you'd watch the city from large advertisement screens that overlooked the sinner's circle of Hell. Anything to stave off the loneliness.

One day, that all changed when you felt an electric buzz make the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You heard the voice of someone swearing and immediately pulled yourself away from the screen you had been sticking your nose into. When you turned, you saw another demon who was still sparking with some bright electric energy as he dusted himself off.

For a moment the two of you just stared at each other in shock. As far as you and Vox knew, you were the only ones who could access the digital realm of Hell's database. Vox is immediately wary, but you are thrilled as you approach him quickly.

"H-Hi, oh my god!" you breathe as you look him over. He didn't look new to Hell, but you had never seen anyone else in the same pocket of space as you before. "Did you just die? Have you seen anyone else? Did you just get here? It's been so long since I saw another person that wasn't on a screen!"

Vox blinked as you rapid-fired questions at him. He looked you over as you rambled something about the irony of his face being a screen when he finally shook his head and held up a hand to stop you.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down," he started. "What are you talking about? How are you even here? No one else should be able to traverse through the database of Hell but me."

Vox's interest only grows as you explain your situation. "I see," he hummed as he looked you over with new intrigue. "I wonder if you have similar abilities to mine and just got caught in the in-between..."

It was easy enough for him to lure you into a deal. The sheer amount of panic you expressed when he pretended he was going to just leave you there was hilarious at the time. In exchange for you "surfing the web" for him, so to speak, he took you on as an apprentice of sorts. Vox trained your abilities and helped you hone your magic. While you had every hope of one day figuring out how to manifest in the physical realm the way he did, Vox cleverly avoided any pursuit of the possibility.

He liked having full power over you and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't starting to grow attached. While you hadn't learned anything about manifesting physically, you had learned how to appear on his screens. He'd never admit it to you out loud, but he found the tiny image of you running around on his devices and talking with him to be pretty damn adorable.

Despite his manipulation, the two of you actually slowly became friends. He found himself genuinely proud of you whenever you popped up to show him something new you had learned. There was a weird warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest when you would bounce with excitement at your new discoveries.

Sometimes you'd ask him to play a certain show or song for you. Even after you learned how to control inactive devices so you could look up anything you wanted, you still liked to ask him to play things for you just so you could watch them in his presence. You'd send memes to each other and Vox had to quickly excuse himself when you sent him a crudely drawn image of Alastor slipping on a banana peel while he was in the middle of giving a presentation at a meeting.

Vox was emotionally constipated, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell that the warm feeling in his chest was growing and he knew you were the source. He clutched his chest as he stepped into his lair and saw you sleeping on his desktop toolbar, waiting for him to come home after a long day at work. He had promised you that you'd watch the new episode of a show you'd been watching together, but his gameshow had run late.

He sits down with a sigh and traces over your sleeping form, feeling something twist inside of him as his claw only met with the cold, flat surface of a screen. He wondered what it would be like to hold you. To touch you. To have you in his arms while the two of you lay on the couch while you made him watch stupid shows instead of...

"Fuck," Vox whispered to himself as he pulled away from the innocent image of you. He clutched his face as he slumped forward in his chair. He had a decision to make.

And so do you, dear readers! I want to make a part two to this, the real question is:

[nemmet]

Bigger Than This

Fandom: Abigail (2024)

Word Count: 2.6K

Rating: T (Alcoholism, Brief Violence, References to Bullying)

Summary: A prequel fic/character study of Terrence "Peter" Lacroix, exploring the crime that placed him on Abigail's radar and the months leading up to the events of the film.

Author's Notes: I love Peter's character a whole lot and knew I just had to explore what we learn about his backstory a little further!! I'm grateful to this film and this tragic silly guy for inspiring me to write something again. I hope you enjoy it!

Also available to read on on AO3!

—

January, 2024

It’s just my job.

It’s just my job, he thinks to himself, as he hears the familiar crack of bone. 

It’s just my job, the thought repeats, as he lets go of the last man’s head and watches him crumple to the floor like a rag doll. 

It’s just my job, is all he hears, as the silence of the dingy warehouse finally sinks in. The blood on his hands is starting to dry up, and he wipes flakes of it off onto his pants with a practised motion.

The phrase repeats itself again and again, ringing around his skull until it turns from comfort swiftly to a new form of torment. This one’s no different, a new thought hisses. You’re still weak, after all this time.

Terrence stumbles out of the scene in a daze, almost as though stepping away from his brutal night’s work would make it all vanish. Leaning heavily against the doorframe, he looks out across the city lights and instinctively zeroes in on the unassuming headquarters of the family he’d signed his life away to. Whether it was fifteen or even twenty years ago, he doesn’t recall – it’s impossible to retain memories of this job, even if he wants to. Already, he feels his muscles stiffen in protest as he entertains the thought of glancing back at the bodies littering the floor behind him.

He had learned a long time ago that there was no sense in regretting, nor even thinking about his work for any longer than necessary. We didn’t hire you to think, he’s often reminded. It’s just as well, really – apparently it’s not his strong point. 

Terrence clicks his tongue and shakes his head. Willfully wiping his brain is basically child’s play, but the physical aftermath is a harder beast to tame. His mouth is dry, his head is pounding, and senseless though it sounds, he swears he’d kill ten more people for a drink. All he had to do was go through the motions and report back to the boss, and then he could get his fix.

As he proceeds down the hill, he mentally rehearses what to say when entering the office: something classic like they’ve been taken care of would suffice, he reckons. He can already see his boss’ curt nod of acknowledgement, and the less-than-genuine smiles of his fellow enforcers. The thought of them ties his stomach into knots, as it ever did – but tonight, the feeling is subdued by the twitching smile that spreads across his face when he reaches a hand into his pocket.

They still don’t know what you did.

—

December, 2023

“Christ, that moron’s still alive?”

“Come on, now. Say it in fewer words, so Lacroix will understand.”

“You get dropped on your head as a baby or something?”

“Good thing he’s the boss’ little killing machine – he’s no good for anything else.”

Terrence hadn’t realised he was biting his tongue until the taste of blood filled his mouth, prompting a hot rush of tears to cloud his vision. Hastily wiping an arm across his face, he knew he had courted the plan for far too long to back out now. This part of the city was dead quiet at night, but his mind was a cacophony of noise as it stayed stuck on the sneering faces of his crew, who belittled him every day as though it were easy as breathing. They deserve this. I deserve this.

Sitting on the cold stone edge of a fountain and trying in vain to halt his jittering leg, he grasped his cross pendant with both hands and whispered a call for forgiveness, before finally succumbing to the adrenaline of cold, blind revenge.

He’d broken back into the building and stolen from his crew that night, a plain and simple crime. Looking back, he’s still surprised he got away with it – one would think that someone of his stature and presence could never achieve the stealth necessary. But by some twisted miracle he’d pulled it off, and from the moment he dropped the first wad of notes into his rucksack, he told himself that they had it coming. He hadn’t given everything to get this big only to continue feeling this small. No, father’s words had made sure of that, and this time he wasn’t going to take it lying down. He wasn’t going to be weak, weepy little Terry anymore, and if that meant embracing the petty villainy that came with this line of work he lamented, then so be it.

All he could do now was sit with what he’d done, and hope to God that the money would last long enough to justify it.

—

January, 2024

Terrence opens the door of his usual bar with just a little too much force, the resulting sound alerting its patrons to his presence like a pack of frightened woodland animals.

“Sorry everyone,” he says sheepishly, raising a hand and laughing it off. 

The low hum of chatter trickles back into the scene, and immediately he submerges himself in it. It’s comfortably busy for a Thursday night, and he plays a little game of how many locals he can spot as he makes his way up to the bar.

“Hi, Terry.” 

A petite woman in her mid-thirties greets him. Her tone is warm despite her lack of eye contact, laser-focused on filling the second of three beer glasses for a group of rowdy men to his right.

“Good evening, Noémie. I’ll start with the usual.” 

She looks up through her lashes and smiles, fondly rolling her eyes as she watches him rub his hands together in anticipation. Terrence smiles from ear to ear in turn, the toll of his day’s work already beginning to melt away as he shifts himself onto a barstool. 

Though it doesn’t seem so to an outsider, Terrence is hardly friends with his bartender – all Noémie ever hears from him are a handful of impersonal anecdotes, and he receives about the same from her. She was welcoming and good-humoured, but not more so to him than any of the other regulars. He’s just another part of her working routine, and that’s ok. 

As often as he tells himself this, there are moments that pique his nagging interest to get to know her properly: he’s always been curious about the floral tattoos trailing up her arms. But even he knows better, lest an innocent conversation lead her to discovering the horrors that drive him here night after night. For as long as he held a job that threatened to bleed into any good thing he touched, arm’s length was always for the better.

He’s snapped out of his spiral as Noémie pours a generous glassful of whiskey in one swift move, pushing it towards him without spilling a single drop. If he hadn’t been so stupid as to take the path in life he did, Terrence reckons he’d have enjoyed the life of a bartender.

Reaching into his pocket, his fingers clumsily curl around a stolen note. He winces on instinct when he brings it out into the open, as though the people surrounding him would be able to tell it wasn’t his. As he slides it across the polished wood and watches Noémie accept it with a flick of the wrist, the night continues on as normal. 

Something churns inside of Terrence. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t committed much, much worse crimes as recently as an hour ago. Why did he feel so guilty? His branch had been up in arms about the stolen earnings, and he had taken silent, gleeful advantage of the fact that he was the last person they would suspect. 

They deserve it. 

His mantra rushes in to save the moment. 

I deserve this. 

Terrence chuckles uneasily to no one but himself, before catching his reflection in the glass he found himself staring down into. Right there and ready for the taking was an instant remedy for guilt of all kinds. Tilting his head up, he downs the drink at a speed that would concern the staff if his habits weren’t another part of the scenery by now. It burns all the way down his throat and into his stomach, as though someone had lit a fire pit there. Smoky-sweet and perfectly aged, he reels in the sensation it brings, exhaling with a groan. There were few comforts greater than knowing it was only the first sip of many.

The night that follows is as short as ever, made shorter still by the thick haze that descends upon his senses, turning hours to minutes. His surroundings are of no consequence, his skin is warm to the touch, and his mind is comfortably numb. Tonight, however, it’s not long before Terrence feels a sharp sensation prodding against his forearm. He shoots up with a gasp, blinking a pair of bleary eyes at the blur of amber light before him. He sniffles, unfolds his arms from atop the bar, and hears his back click as he straightens it out. 

“Hey, brother. Don’t go passing out on me, ok?” 

Noémie’s voice is a tinny echo between his ears, and it takes him a moment to process. He watches her clear a stack of glasses from beside him, tall enough to reach her chin, and he realises with a dull sense of shame that each and every one was his. No wonder he dozed off, with no recollection of it to boot. 

“Mm… m’sorry,” he croaks out, tone flat and words laboured. 

“S‘alright.” She gestures vaguely. “Do what you’ve gotta do.”

Terrence just nods, gripping onto the side of the bar as he steps off of the stool and turns around to face the empty space behind him. He lets out a sigh that seems to take his whole body strength before stumbling his way towards the door, head swimming.

“Goodnight, Terry.” 

He turns around to see Noémie, now a few paces behind him.

“Th-Thank you. G’night,” is all he manages in return. 

He grips the door handle after one or two unsuccessful attempts, stepping out into the bitter cold. He watches the sign on the door get flipped to Closed before turning in what he hopes is the direction back to his apartment. 

—

March, 2024

The money had already run out. His guilt, too, was a distant memory. Now, the only thing he regrets is having stolen such a modest amount. 

He had given a portion of it to his mom, under the pretence that he had gotten a long-overdue bonus at the bodyguarding job she thought he worked. He shouldn’t have spent as much of the rest of it as he did on booze, though it was easy to say that in hindsight. He should’ve known the excess money would only fuel the vicious cycle he was trapped in.

Today, he carries out no particular orders; simply keeping his eyes peeled as he traverses an allocated area of the Broussard family territory, and preparing himself to respond to any threats in an appropriately violent manner. This was until a colleague reached up to tap him on the shoulder faster than he could process the footsteps that preceded him. 

“Lacroix. The boss wants to see you.”

The young man forgoes any further niceties and walks away. Terrence immediately feels his heart sink into his shoes, and he grasps for his pendant beneath his shirt. They couldn’t know he did it – no one had regarded him with any more than the usual air of suspicion since that day. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps they were ready for him. Perhaps there’d be someone waiting behind the door with a loaded gun when he entered.

Never having been one to refuse orders, Terrence begins to drag one foot in front of the other, steadily making his way towards the office in a daze of resignation. 

“Lacroix.”

The air in the room of the Broussard patriarch is thick, but not oppressive. As Terrence turns to close the door behind him, he thinks it’s almost too good to be true that he’s not at the business end of a pistol. 

“Yes, sir?” 

Terrence meets the boss’ gaze, steel-eyed and sweat-inducing. The boss leans back in his seat, folding his arms as he continues.

“I’ve put your name forward for a job. Overseas. They’re looking for someone of your…” 

He eyes him up and down. 

“… skillset.”

Terrence’s mouth falls open. Even whilst trying to keep a low profile in the wake of his crime, he had somehow been recommended. For his first overseas job, no less. His anxiety instantly washes away, leaving room for only one concern:

“What are they offering? How much?”

“All of the information is enclosed within.” The boss pushes a blank envelope across his desk. “I trust that even you would have the sense not to turn this down.”

Terrence gingerly approaches, swiping up the envelope and holding it between his fingers. He tries to form the words for further questions, but not before the boss’ words cut the silence.

“We have nothing more to discuss.” 

Wasting no time, Terrence exits the office with a swift word of thanks, and a sort-of bow he instantly realises is a bit too much. After a few steps down the corridor and a series of glances to ensure his privacy, he leans against the ornate wall and pries the envelope open with a clumsy, hasty thumb. 

The text before him is skimmed: Kidnapping job. Anonymous, elite team. Billionaire’s daughter. Fifty million dollar ransom. It’s all he needs to know, for now at least. He chuckles slightly, then some more, before he finds himself unable to control his laughter, a husky sound that fills the space and blankets him in a sense of hope for his security he’s sure he’s never felt. With the cut of money he’d receive from this job, he could entertain the thought of early retirement for the first time in his life.

Once the rush subsides, he wipes his eyes and studies the information again, as if confirming its tangible existence. The word “daughter” now seems louder than before, and it finds his face slowly beginning to fall. It could mean anything, he realises, from someone his age to an infant. He imagines himself kidnapping– harming a child, and a sinkhole forms in his stomach. He was well-versed in finding ways to excuse the injuries and murders he carried out, but a child was a step too far – that much he had sworn from the start. 

Terrence finds himself walking aimlessly towards the nearest exit, letting a thousand visions of the once unimaginable concept flood his mind. He knew how to be gentle. He was gentle: too much so for his father’s liking, at the very least. That had to count for something. The letter says nothing of killing the girl, after all. Though that horrific feeling in his chest returns once he realises that should his team fail, it would certainly fall to him to end her life. He could do that gently too, a part of him assures, and he perks up slightly. He could make this girl’s life and potential death as quick and painless as possible. That would be his role, and the intent would be enough to keep the guilt and dread from swallowing him whole. Well, that and the money.

He finally emerges from the building and raises his head to the sky, unusually grey and gauzy for a spring afternoon. A raindrop weakly falls upon his nose, making him flinch. He knew there was nothing else to do but go home and pack his bags, and once he did, there would be no looking back.

It’s just my job.

It’s just my job.

It’s just my job.

Before he commits, Terrence figures one last visit to the bar can’t hurt.

[sinimake]

You've got drawing ideas cage fighting (fking love this new AU 😍🤩) and I'm sick and drowning in sick!Johnshi ideas so let me kick them out of my brain please.

So I get the feeling that both Kenshi and Johnny are horrible when they are sick bc they simply. Won't. Let themselves. Get taken care off. The bases are surprisingly similar and yet different.

Kenshi grew up with the idea that showing any sort of weakness is a no-no if you want to survive his (previous) world. So he will do whatever it takes to power through whatever nasty virus has taken over his body. Then this gets aggravated when he is freeing the Taira bc now it has become a "I can't rest yet" type of problem (cue to him collapsing more than once in the past). And there is also a bit of him not believing that he deserves the gentleness and love that is someone taking care of himself.

Johnny hides behind a shiny and loud wall of "THE Johnny Cage cannot get sick. I'm too good for that". But all this façade hides is his fear of his public persona cracking and him falling behind. He *needs* to get this shoot done, this premiere attended, this interview published bc otherwise people will forget him (feeling that was appeared when he started making a career of himself and then got worse pre MK1 events). There is also the fear of being considered a burden (something that his shitty father drilled into his brain and that sadly his mother couldn't fight since she was always so busy trying to raise her 2 sons and drag her useless husband).

And for the both of them there might also be something about not wanting others to pity them?

At the beginning of their relationship this whole thing becomes a bit of a friction point but after a couple of times they realize that letting themselves to be taken care of when sick is not shameful, doesn't make them weak or a burden and that they actually deserve that care and gentleness.

I'm sorry for taking so long to answer your submission bc i have been mulling about what more i can add.

You're SO RIGHT about everything.

Kenshi is a very duty bound person. The Kenshi who's seeking redemption serves people, his family and loved ones, and everything comes before his own needs and wants. Of course, he doesn't let himself rest when he's sick bc it is just trivial thing, a distraction. The way Kenshi just gives up when he loses his sight tells a lot about how he sees his worth bc if he can't fight to save his clan, then he's nothing. Furthermore, he feels that he's underserving of good things bc guilt™️ of his yakuza past.

On the other hand, Johnny is all about proving himself capable. In the entertainment industry, you must be always on you top shape, gotta give 110% all the time, or people will replace you with a blink of an eye. He doesn't do well when people point out his shortcomings, so he mask them and it is probably where his arrogant attitude roots from bc fake it till you make it right?

Johnny and Kenshi are both hypocrites because they want to take care of each other while not doing the same for themselves. Loving someone's uglies is easy when you truly love the person but letting yourself be loved? Being weak and vulnerable with the other? It is hard to unlearn all the ways that helped them survive the world but what's love if you if you can't be your true self.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

The SM saga finally ended. The results aren’t too bad for Hybe huh BPP? They’re still have their shares and it looks like they got SM’s version of Weverse out of the deal? Which means 💰 💰 💰 i saw a lot of SM stans celebrating that hybe backed off and now they won’t be sending trucks to Hybe if something bad happens to the music or idols or management cuz that shit was peak kpop insanity and I was so embarrassed for them 🤣🤣 from what i know of kakao i’m gonna be tunning in to this new Kakao led SM and see the ripple of consequences this whole thing is gonna unfold in the months and years to come. I do wanna see lsm, his nephew and other people involved in corruption be dragged to jail though…

*

Ask 2: Thank god the Sm thing is finally over, I was getting so sick of the fanwars and people talking bs about shit they know nothing about. Idgaf about that drama and all I really wanna know is if the cops are finally investigating Lsm and putting his ass on jail and keeping him there????? Bcuz I just found out that he was convicted in the 2000s and just manage to wiggle out bcuz of his connections???? God let this kdrama end on a good note at least!!!!!!!!

***

Hi Anon(s),

Lol Anon in ask 2, what did you think the government/presidential pardon in the 2000s I kept mentioning was referring to? [Aside, in the last 4 months or so, I’ve started responding to Tumblr asks more on my phone and so it’s not as easy to constantly link in sources the way I used to do on my earlier posts. But I try to be as descriptive as possible so y’all can just google what I say to confirm. So in this case as an example, anyone can go to my earlier posts on the topic and google the claims there or google ‘Lee Sooman pardon 2007’ to get the backing source. ]

The first part of the play is over, that’s right. There’s still part 2 coming, but let’s talk about Part 1 first:

I underestimated HYBE. In hind sight, of course HYBE of all companies would know how acute the social and corporate governance risk is in SM. I mean, SM is one of the oldest entertainment companies in Korea and easily has the most atrocious record in terms of artist abuse and staff coercion, aside from the rampant embezzlement court cases at all levels of management, not just with Lee Sooman, over the last two decades. Fans of SM groups, industry officials, etc all looked the other way so long as the music and the money kept pumping out, despite embarrassing court cases every four years on average, but now the question remains what SM will look like now that the brains behind the operation, Lee Sooman, (if everyone from YYJ to the idols themselves e.g. Shinee and Red Velvet are to be believed), now that he has taken a step back for now.

(Personally, I hope they only go up from here. Those artists deserve so much better.)

Anyway even I who was initially skeptical, have to tip my hat to how brilliantly HYBE played this. Their downside had always been limited (the first obvious smart move), but instead of trying to outbid Kakao, Bang PD apparently went directly to the Institutional investors on SM’s book, convinced them to vote in HYBE’s favour, which would’ve meant Kakao overpaying for a stake with severely limited management control since HYBE would undercut it during the vote, and that is what then prompted Kakao to reach out to HYBE before the vote to make a deal. Now HYBE gets access to SM’s proprietary platforms, some access to their artist IP (though this is controlled by Kakao), can still act as a check on management decisions at SM, and still have a stake they can monetize for profit later. All without dealing with the headache of trying to oversee a governance overhaul at a company that has been anemic on basic corporate ethics for 20 years - which was my primary concern. Trying to do that would’ve been insanely expensive for HYBE, both fiscally and otherwise. Like they might as well set cash on fire. In my humble opinion.

As I mentioned in my last post on the topic, HYBE stuck to their past pattern of behaviour and didn’t overbid for SM but:

Fun fact: SM’s share price today is below HYBE’s tender offer price… down 20% only today, while Kakao’s new tender offer price is ~70% above their initial bid, 25% more than HYBE’s tender bid, and ~30% more than SM’s current share price… Even after amortizing and discounting the additional payments HYBE made to Lee Sooman to secure his stake, HYBE is sitting on hundreds of millions in profit that they can realize as soon as this year if Kakao seeks to buy HYBE’s stake or even some of it. And like I said earlier, with failed tender offers, excess returns typically trend to zero over one year (it’s already happening), so unless Kakao can leverage the SM deal into another business combination or listing this year, they are spectacularly screwed.

Like, y’all.

HYBE committed corporate murder.

But the Pink Bloods get the Happily Ever After they always wanted with Kakao a La Cinderella.

And Kakao likely will pursue another business combination. I mean, they’d be stupid not to.

Everybody’s happy. :)

*

Now, Part 2. There are still so many ways this can go and I still highlight the middle of May (end of Earnings season) as when we’ll have the best picture of what’s happening. HYBE can choose to keep their stake as is and watch from the inside how things progress at SM, with a say on how the company is managed; HYBE could reduce their stake and lose that privilege; or sell down and dip altogether. And there’s also how they use their access to SM artist IP and the platforms.

All this to say, fun times ahead.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

yknow, if there's one piece of advice I can give to people who don't have special needs in school, it's that DO NOT under any circumstance, idek (???) apply to be a scribe/writer for a special accommodations kid just to solely get out of class.

I had this happen to me in year 11 or 12, when the public school I was at, as well as the nsw education board, were adamant that the ONLY way I was to ever sit my hsc (end of high school) exams and pass, was to have a scribe. and a scribe only since no one would take the time & effort to EVER read my OWN hand written responses if I chose to do them by handwriting only.... and also that the education board kept outright refusing my access to a laptop bc "exams are meant to be handwritten only!!!! this student obvs wants an easy way to do her exams and wants to cheat!!!!" and "obvs this student, her teachers, her GP and the occupational therapists we made her see..... are all lying that she kid NEEDS a laptop accommodation for her exams to let her have a chance of succeeding.... so instead, we'll give her depression and anxiety so bad that she won't bother studying, lol."

so the first couple of scribes i had were good, bc they were in the year below me, and so, didn't know me. they told me to take my time and breathe etc etc. all around being supportive. however, one girl who had volunteered to be my scribe was originally in my year, but forced to repeat bc she'd missed too much class or whatever. moreover, she never liked me bc of the ~stuck up catholic school bitch~ thing that some people still held against me even after I'd been there for a while and was nice to everyone.

but what did this girl's dislike of me lead her to say??? she demanded of me, for my ancient history or w/e the fuck exam she had to write for me, that: "can you just hurry the fuck up and get this done so I can GET TO LUNCH ON TIME???? bc I only signed up for this to get out of class and get extra lunch time if you're quick. its not my fault you're *the R word*."

like Sally. you full well know HSC exams are long. ancient history was 2 or 3 hrs, I can't remember now. of course you're going to miss lunch. why the fuck did you even bother signing up for this, if you actually D O N T want to help people, let alone help someone you don't like???? wow. what a kind soul you are, you dumb ass. I don't give a fuck if you want to miss class. you signed up to help, so get writing. you selfish ass bitch.

anyway, I took my precious, painstaking time in this exam mostly out of spite for this bitch, bc i didn't think she deserved to have lunch on time when she'd signed up to help people for the full exam time. and also for calling me the *R word*. like I get that. it was 2012/2013, and I'd had people call me it plenty at catholic school too, for being related to the special ed dept. but there was NO REASON to call me that right before my exam that you signed up to help me with.

as an aside, I was practically a low needs special needs student. all I wanted was a fucking laptop for my exams. but instead, I had to settle for this fucking cow, who actually didn't give a fuck if she made me fail or not.

anyway. my point is, if you sign up to help any type of special needs student at school or at uni, have some fucking empathy and patience for the other person. having a scribe should NEVER be an option in exams, in my opinion, because it's impossible to relate coherent thoughts under exams stress. or at least it is for me. and esp as someone who used to do writing as a hobby in high school, this was like purposely cutting off my arms, which I could ACTUALLY use and also the direct brain connection to: brain to arm, to hand and pen, to paper. I fucking L O A T H E D it so much, and esp in the case of this girl.

like yes I did end up getting a laptop, which ended up being pretty pointless anyway (diagrams in entertainment industry and biology and doing double the work for multiple choice).... but still. I have this experience buried in my brain whenever I think about how shit special accommodation organisation can be for exams for special ed kids. don't sign up if you don't actually WANT to help, and instead want to do it solely to get out of your classes and expect early and extra break times.

[bpdbaddies-blog]

i’ve never shared my writing before so enjoy.

my pov:

i feel like i’m buried in the depths of hell

you can’t physically see the pain that’s lurking inside

it’s taken a toll on me and all i feel is numb

let me give you a glimpse of my life

i do my best hoping to be enough

longing for acceptance of all that i am

constantly told you talk too much

you feel too deeply

you’re way too much

i either talk too much or not enough

i see everything in black and white, there’s no middle path

i don’t think people love me

they love the versions of me i’ve spun for them

the easy parts of me, the easy parts to love

ive spend my life trying to please others

i tried to be the person they all wanted

i gave up my spirit and begged for acceptance

my very existence depends on your acceptance

i’m at war with my own body, my thoughts tell me to hate myself

i cannot look in the mirror for i fear what my brain will tell me

i don’t know who i am anymore

i stare at myself like someone i’ve never met

i’m trying to shrink myself

trying to become smaller, quieter, less me

i don’t want to be too much for people

i want people to like me

i want to be cared for and valued

i crave touch yet i flinch every time someone is close

i want to be wanted

i don’t want to hurt anymore

i’ve sacrificed myself to make others happy

i forgive over and over again and have never learned to let go

i obsess too much and pick everything apart

“i’m just a tragedy and a pity case to them” says my brain

i always feel inadequate and a burden to others

chronically unsure about life

i constantly feel so unworthy

i feel as though my life isn’t worth living

i constantly seek validation from others because i need to feel worthy

i’ll hurt you before you hurt me

“burn the bridge while they’re still on it” says my brain

i’m paranoid everything is against me

i feel trapped in my own body

i feel like i’m in a cage and it’s so hard to grow

i hate everything i am, i’m rotting inside

memories constantly flooding back

i was ruined from such a young age

they were the start of all my problems

they injected me with self doubt

i met evil when i was only a child

i was only a jester for your entertainment

i learned to be afraid as a child

harsh words stripped me of my freedom

i was just a well trained mutt

i didn’t want to be controlled

i wanted to be a child

but i never got the chance to be one

no one asked me if i was okay

why didn’t anyone help me

i must’ve deserved it all

everyone just watched me drown

i was just a child, you robbed me of my childhood

i’m too young to have these scars

i’m no longer a whole person and i never will be

parts of me died in the house i grew up in

please tell me when i will heal from your pain

i’ll forever crave an apology

but i’ll never forget the way you hurt the child i was

i was given the grab bag of mental illnesses

i wake up everyday trying to be a new person

how can someone feel so much but feel so empty

how can emptiness be so heavy

how have i survived so long when i’m so violently self destructive

you have no idea of the pain that runs through my veins

i feel so unspeakably lonely

i can’t manage all these feelings

sadness feels like suicide

distance feels like abandonment

joy feels weird and unknown

i’ll never feel good enough not even for myself

my mood was good, even great then it fell

up and down up and down like a constant roller coaster

there’s a constant battle of sad empty rage inside

i can constantly hear my heart breaking

my soul is broken in parts i didn’t know could break

i’m lonely in places i didn’t know existed inside me

i have the constant urge to run away

but i have no where to go

i’m just so tired of fighting a never ending war

i feel like i was born with tragedy in my blood

the world has drained me of everything i am

i want to dissolve into nothingness

sometimes i think i would be better off dead

but there might be another way out

but i wouldn’t know because i’ve been buried alive

[ram-de]

i am shooting myself

in the foot. metaphorically. i don't know.

i have binge-watched three seasons of survivor. the show is unavailable in my country and it's a hassle to buy vpn and paramount+ and not to mention the currency conversion and all that stuff. and it's a pain watching with such slow speed. either way. i liked survivor a bit too much. i think in my head, maybe i'm thinking, oh, so that's what happens when people are interacting, socializing, scheming, doing, living. it's interesting. it's fun.

i looked for suggestion to which seasons is a-must, etc. etc. and reddit being reddit suggested i started to 1. mind you, there's 46 seasons going on. watching from s1 would be a slog. so fuck that.

season 7, pearl islands is the one i watched first. and my first impression is the charm of the show. i thought i wouldn't like it (since it's an old show, 2003, 4:3, etc.) but i liked it lots. the missions are simple, but the storyline are enchanting. i have people to roots for, twist to look forward, i think the biggest gimmick in this season is the outcast which is exciting, because what is better to root for than the underdogs? also morgan drake lost a lot of challenges early on it was painful to watch lol

season 28, cagayan aka brain vs brawn vs beauty. now here, i got introduced to lot of what would be the show's common features? flicks? stuff like hidden immunity idol, less focused on the survival challenges (compared to 7, i mean. they had to trade with the locals to get early stuff, does a lot more of fishing, less player that knows how the game works). and the premise, oh it's so good. grouping people based on their most distinct traits and have it like kinda influence them a bit. my favorite player would be spencer because he's nerdy cute and just how excited he was to play. his final speech when he was a jury later on, about respecting the game was +++. (he was later revealed to be anti vaccine which kinda disappoints and why i shouldn't look for the players actual life after show lol) i also like chaos kass a bit too much. the entertainment is abundant. i am having lots of fun and joy. deserved win for tony because how can you pull that off?

season 37, david vs goliath. now, this is what's recommended for the 'new era' of survivor. personally i didn't like it as much. the premise was ok. christian was a dork and i like him. the davids cast was ok. the goliaths are exhausting to watch. it felt like watching club of popular rich kids, too much flirting for my liking, it was also the first time i've heard of the term showmances. keep that away from me lol. surprisingly i loved when the tribe swaps. natalie / angelina's tribal council scene was so funny. christian's antics with the dudebros (brochacos), nick naming all his alliances. and alec. alec!! i was rooting for him!!!! i wanted both alec and christian in the final 4 at least so it bummed me so bad when he was eliminated. at that point i wasn't feeling watching the show for the rest of them. christian felt too much like a threat. and when he was eliminated, i don't even felt like continuing. then i've read some discussion post and found out alec won't even be in the final because of some nda stuff. no!!!!! so i haven't watched the final. rip.

i wanted to write about how watching survivor is another distraction and it's running out as well. and how it's a subtle reminder of people with lives and jobs. meanwhile i'm doing nothing just entertaining myself alone in front of the screen for three? four days straight. it's pathetic and miserable. it's turning into a vent blog. damn it. i'm just. i felt like i'm my biggest enemy right now. i'm the biggest hindrance to my own progress and my own future. i don't know if i'm thinking straight. i haven't congratulated my sisters for delivering a baby... i've ignored my mom's messages. i've ignored academics works. this should have be a wake up call, but i don't feel like it. it's so easy for me to ignore everything, God. I'm not making good decisions. yet i don't feel the same guilt i used to have as before. when decisions doesn't feel like it have weights even when it should, how bad when the time comes that i'll break myself until i can't move forward any longer?

[tntky]

My fucked up week and low mental health

Hi and welcome back to this new episode of my life is a fucking mess.

Today we are going to talk about my fucked up week and low mental health. I just realized that I was going to be this aunt.

Ya'll know which one i'm  talking about: the single and alcohol aunt always portrayed in movies. Living her best life. I read something on the Internet about me being a young adult. I'm actually 24 and this means that I am only six years into adulthood, but considering that three of them occured during the Covid session, it means i'm approx a 3 yo adult. Hence, i'm legit to not having done nothing much for my age as compared to older generations so I get that I shouldn't be putting so much pressure on myself.

But at the same time I can't stop thinking about how difficult it's going to be to heal from all the shit I put myself through. Shit that I cannot blame anyone else but me. What I meant about this aunt with an unstable or even a nonexistent life is that i really see myself as growing up as one of them. But they're always characters that don't settle because somehow they're better off on their own and know that all they need to do to get their way through is to love yourself first and then to get what you deserve i.e. you know your worth and you'll settle for it.

Don't get me wrong. It totally makes sense but at the same time, self love and being independent simply  cannot just replace romantic love. And having to do all these independent girl shit on your own wjile wayching your younger siblings or even people you know getting engaged or into real relationship while you're out there faking it, it's not that fucking easy. 

I just crave being in in a romantic relationship so much like who wouldn'twant that?!  Probably a bunch of people... but as silly as it sounds:  I love love. if that makes sense... and I hate the fact that love is not enough! Love is not what it takes to get you places or make things work. Relationship requires commitment, communication, engagement and all these shits they don't talk enough about it movies. 

I'm not gonna start bragging about everything that happened this week that brought me to this thinking point. It's just that I've been having really sad thoughts lately, so lucky you here's an entry.

I just feel so fucking lonely right now. I wish I could have a friend to talk to, but I'm bad at socializing and I don't really have what you can call friends. In fact, I'm just good at pushing people away or using them when needed and that's why I consider myself as an unfriendable.  But sometimes I just miss the feeling of being understood, or being able to talk to someone

And friends are not that easy to find and require commitment to accept them with their flaws which I cannot do because I'm a way too judgemental bitch. Yeah, as I was saying life sucks or it's just mine. I know  I'm far from being healed and doubt that I will be ready soon enough to make new relationships but i jst feel like i'm getting old and the older i get, the lonelier i am.  And this entry is just about me realizing that healing is gonna be fucking painful and a long and lonely journey.

Anyway, I hope you're having a good day. or that you had a great week. And that I am at least keeping you entertained with this. See you in next episode of TNTKY and don't forget to come back to check for new articles ( i haven't figured out how this thing works)  about me and my sick brain.  K Bye.

[spitdrunken]

how bout ingo getting caught while jerkin off to you O_O

notes: a poor guy being unbearably horny <3

Ingo feels rather terrible.

While he does spend most of his time in Jubilife Village at this point, he needs to return to his Lady Sneasler regularly. To check up on the area. That’s a warden’s job, and he takes any task given to him seriously. You'd offered to take accompany him back to Mount Coronet. He knows he should've denied you, that it was a disaster waiting to happen, but... Ingo wished for your company, for you to board together. He always does, really. After spending so much time together, he wonders if you’ve figured him out, however, he knows his expressions can be inscrutable.

He reigned in his logic, denied that this would be anything except safe boarding, and told you he'd be grateful for your company. His worries were true, though. You walk close next to him, your scent clouding his mind (which, in all honesty, might all be in his head), your hand brushing against his and setting his skin alight. It’s enough already for his brain to wander into worse territory. Your presence is unbearable in the best way possible. His pace falls behind yours as he frets, and his eyes lower just a little too much. It’s just a little glance, but- Ah, he truly is hopeless, isn't he? You deserve better. Not a man with half a memory, half a soul. Someone with more decency, too.

“You alright, Ingo?” Your mere voice derails his heart, making it flutter in his chest. Especially when it’s his name rolling off your tongue. (And he tains every innocent action in equal measure. How would you whimper, how would you moan out his name instead?) “I don’t... Feel like you’re being your usual self, if that makes sense? You’re zoning out a lot. And-” You let out a slightly stilted laugh. “It’s like you’re looking straight through me.”

“Please excuse my behaviour, I never meant to cause you any concern!” He hugs his coat closer around his body, fingers fiddling with the frayed edges. “I will admit, though, that my mind has been getting off track lately. Would you mind taking a temporary stop here? Night is nearing either way, and we shouldn’t be caught outside.”

Your expression shifts into a soft smile. “Of course that’s fine. This is your trip. I’m just along for the ride! I’ll set everything up for you, don’t worry.” Your gaze wanders away from him, already looking around for a nice spot to put the tent. “I still have some food, but some sweet berries after would be nice... Think you can find some? Don’t push yourself, though.” He nods. Ingo feels a pang of guilt every time you insist he take it easy, but he can’t exactly tell you the truth behind his behaviour. 

This is the perfect escape he needed. If he had to share a tent to you, though he would never even entertain the thought of touching you without permission, it would be very awkward for him indeed. He needs to... Take some of the pressure off. It’s either this, or the real possibility of you noticing he’s hard half the time while talking to you. Ingo leans against a tree some ways away, semi-obscured with bushes surrounding him. Most importantly: It’s clear from all Pokemon. He thinks it’s far enough away from you, though he isn’t sure exactly how far he wandered.

Ingo doesn’t waste time, immediately fumbling pants and tugging off his underwear. They’re soaked with precum. Every brush of fabric agains this dick has him shuddering, and he hisses in relief as soon as he wraps his fist around his cock. Though he’s usually happy with his coat, he’s sweating so much underneath it right now. He can’t be bothered taking it off right now. His eyes squeezed shut, he imagines himself being anywhere but here. Images of you flood his mind, all it could be. You’re the only one he’s ever felt such strong desire for as long as he can remember, and he can only ask himself whether you’re the first or not.

(He wants to make you feel so good so badly. It wouldn’t even matter whether he got off himself, as long as he was touching you. Ingo wants to figure out what gets you the most excited, to leave you a shaking, shuddering mess. Have you ever done this before? He has no clue, he would never dare to ask, but imagining himself as your first gets to him, just a little. Exploring your body at the same pace, figuring things out together, wouldn’t that be wonderful? To guide you, gentle and slow, to have your eyes on him-Would you sit on his face if he asked...?)

Ingo’s so excited, his head so full, that he can’t focus on one fantasy or the other. They all flash through his mind. Your name is all that manages to slip from his lips, the only legible thing at least, the rest all moans and whines. If not closer to sobs. His hand is entirely slick with precum. He pretends it isn’t his palm, roughened and scarred, but they're yours- Ingo moans your name. Loud. Embarrassingly loud, even, and he stuffs his knuckles in his mouth, biting down. He's not going to last long.

There’s the rustling of bushes, and he freezes. Ingo can’t imagine a much worse fate than getting mauled by a Pokemon, dick still in hand. It’s worse. It’s you. You look so concerned. He’s curled up, so you can’t quite see what he’s doing- He probably looks like he’s in pain. His ears are ringing so loudly he can’t actually make out what you’re saying, but the ‘are you alright’ is obvious in the way your lips move. Had he been taking too long, had he been too loud?

Any other person would’ve been horrified and turned off. Ingo cums inside his fist right then and there, at the mere sight of you.

[love-toxin]

plagas; leon.

a/n: in the midst of some writer’s block i stumbled upon an old concept i never finished. enjoy some good ol’ plaga leon <3

warnings: parasitic possession, yandere leon, female reader, violence, blood, groping, leon’s teasing is just straight up bullying, pet names, almost noncon, slight boot kink, chasing. 

word count: 1.9k

“Leon..?”

The sun had set on your terrifying journey, and cast a shadow over the room you'd found yourself trapped inside. Not by locks this time, or villagers, or Saddler himself...but by the person you had trusted throughout this entire nightmare. The man that had saved your life stood between you and your only way out, and even then, you doubted that you'd be able to escape if you managed to slip past him. The road home was so long and the stifling, smothering Spanish heat had made way for a chilling cold that breezed through your body in the night and froze you to your spot.

And Leon was gone. His mind and body had succumbed to the disease he'd been injected with, the parasite that he'd protected you from...but instead of saving you, now all you felt was panic, fear, and dread when you looked into his eyes. 

“You can’t suck the poison out of this wound, sweetheart...but I won’t stop you if you wanna give it a try.” 

Leon took slow steps around you, his footsteps echoing in the marble hall of the castle as he eyed you up like you were his prey, while his fingers spasmed and twitched at his sides, like they were itching to either grab you or wrap themselves tightly around your throat. So much had happened since he'd rescued you from the farmhouse, and reassured you with infectious confidence that everything would be okay. It felt like a lifetime that you'd known him, even if in reality you'd only spent less than a day together--but running and hiding and waiting for Leon to dispatch any threats made the hours seem so long and torturous. You prayed for his safety at every turn, and felt terror grip your heart as you waited for him to come back and retrieve you from hiding…

And now you were here.

"Saddler wants me to kill you, you're not worth the hassle to him. But to me...you're my treasure. Mine." 

The way that word rolled off his tongue sounded like an echo in your brain. He said it once before, and it stuck with you awhile--but hearing him say it now was like having it permanently seared into your head. 

It wasn’t a secret anymore. You’d fallen in love with Leon, as so many had before. You fell for his confidence, his strength, his effortless teasing and sincere concern for your safety, and maybe it was all just backed by your appreciation for him saving your life and playing the hero so well. But even if it was temporary, you were in love and you wanted him to survive just as much as he wanted to save you, and even if he succeeded and brought you home just for you to never see each other again, there would always be a part of you that loved him, and you had accepted that fact. 

But things had changed. Seeing Leon no longer filled you with relief and happiness, that smug grin on his lips as he greeted you after fighting off monsters you could only imagine in nightmares. He took a step towards you, and this time you took a huge one back--and he chuckled, his tone dark and biting, before continuing on and piercing through you with blood-coloured irises. 

"I found you, I get to keep you. Finders keepers, huh sweetheart? That's fair, isn't it?"

His gaze held nothing less than a deep, ravenous hunger within him, the unsettling smirk on his face in no way easing that tension that weighed heavily on your mind. 

“Maybe I’m just a monster, now...if I am, then so be it. If being a monster means seeing that look on your face forever, then I gotta say, it feels pretty damn good!” 

"Y-You're not Leon!"

His shoulders suddenly tensed like he was about to lunge for you, but letting him have the upper hand would mean the end for you. You knew that fact so well that you acted on instinct, and unsheathed the knife whose handle you'd been stealthily gripping this whole time, to stab it into the eye of the man you wished you could have a life with. And you missed, the realization both relieving and terrifying, as the blade clanged and stuck into the wall behind him and barely clipped a few strands of his light-coloured hair. 

"Is this my knife? Now that's pretty cute,"

A shudder violently wracked your body as Leon's tongue slipped past his lips, and he turned his head to lick a slow stripe up the gleaming, bloodstained blade. He'd ended plenty of lives with that thing, but it seemed as though his own had yet to be one of them. 

"I've played the hero long enough. I want a reward for all my hard work...I want you."

His hand crept up your waist before you could react to it, rough fingers spreading warmth through your stomach as they grazed the exposed skin of your hip. But once you tried to break away from the touch you wished you didn't crave more of, his other hand shot out to grab you by the waist and keep you pressed uncomfortably close to his body, so close that your lips were mere centimeters from his neck and breathing in gave you a good whiff of that faint scent of cologne that still lingered on his skin. 

"Don't fight me, pet. I can already hear you crying for me to use you...you know, you're so cute when you're scared."

You squirmed even still, thrashing and shoving against his chest to try and find some way to twist out of his hold--but moving him was like trying to push a brick wall, and his grip on you got tighter and tighter until you whimpered with pain. The things he was saying just didn't make any sense, and you never wanted the real Leon more than you did in this moment. Knowing what it felt like to have his strength used against you instead of to protect you...it was becoming too much to bear, and in your terror you found comfort in Leon's touch again even if it was brief, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin and working to relax you enough that you weren't so tense. 

"You're gonna forget all about that fear when I'm balls deep inside you." 

What little comfort you found was gone once he whispered that into your ear. You felt your eyes widen and Leon's fingers worked their way under the waist of your shorts in a moment, the danger so imminent that your reaction ripped itself from your throat in a scream, and you returned to struggling against the unmistakable stiffness that dug into your inner thigh through his tight pants. 

"Leon, stop!"

You wailed, beating your fist against his chest and even catching him in the jaw, not that you really noticed in your frenzy nor did he react save for his brow furrowing in fury. It didn't last forever though, it was easy for him to use his leverage to shove you off, your back hitting the ground hard enough to sting while he loomed over you and watched with sick glee as you trembled too hard to get up. 

"You don't want me to stop. Be honest, doll." 

You weren't expecting this kind of violence from him, especially not when he brought his foot down right between your legs, as was evident by the way you shrieked and tears pricked at your eyes at once. Somehow he managed to aim the heel of his boot right at your clit, and you were certain now that it was by no way an accident by the way he ground into it in slow circles, and watched with a smirk as your hips shakily followed his rhythm of their own volition. 

"You want me to take everything from you, and I swear to you I will. I'll strip you of every inch of your pathetic life and make you mine." 

The pressure was starting to hurt, and your arms shot out to grab his calf and try in vain to wrench him off of your sensitive areas. It seemed to just entertain him, however, and his taunts were starting to sting your broken heart even more than any physical pain he had inflicted. Even worse was watching him lick his lips as he reveled in your suffering, and one of his hands descended beneath the belt of his trousers to stroke himself under the tent that was so clearly obvious. He loved watching you in pain, and nothing but rage bubbled up in your chest from the humiliation of loving somebody so depraved, even if he wasn't really Leon anymore. 

"I hate you,"

You muttered through gritted teeth, trying so hard to hold back your tears that your whole body was shaking. He let slip a soft moan as he twisted his grip on his cock, and didn't stop even as he focused those bloodred eyes on yours and growled in time with an especially rough tug. 

"Liar." 

Leon's grip fastened on your shoulder, but instead of pushing you back down to the filthy ground, he yanked you forwards and crushed your lips against his. Nothing but heat and the scent of blood overwhelmed your senses, your eyes fluttering closed when he started sucking on your lower lip and grazing it with his teeth. You wanted to hate the shivers that snaked up and down your spine from his kiss, but when it was from the man you still loved, it was difficult to brush those feelings aside. It wasn't impossible, however, because when he prodded past your lips with his tongue and moved in close enough for you to feel his cock twitching through his pants, panic flared up in your throat and you bit down on instinct, the coppery tang of his blood flooding your mouth at once. Leon shoved you off him much harder this time, but with the pain causing him to stagger you managed to scramble to your feet and back away a few steps to get some distance. But the fear of turning your back to him kept you frozen in place.

"You wanna be a brat, huh?"

Despite inflicting some much deserved pain, his glare barely wavered as he pulled his hand from his pants and wiped the blood that dribbled from his mouth, eyes gleaming with a lust for violence that you feared right now more than ever. 

"I'll let you have a ten second head start then, sweetheart. Better hurry."

You hesitated, his offer confusing you for a moment, but once the realization dawned on you your feet moved on their own. Sore and stained with tears and blood, you tore off down the castle corridors to search for an escape, and if not, then just a place for you to hide until Leon gave up on you, which would never happen. The thought of monsters barely dwelled in your mind when the most dangerous one was Leon himself, but little did you know that it would only take a short while for you to realize how fragile you really were when he wasn't protecting you, and that escaping without him was just simply not possible. 

"...Cheeky little slut. Let's just see how far you get before you come crawling back to me."

[yanderemommabean]

Could you do another yandere all smite purge one please?

“This is not a test “ Echoed through the empty streets as the final safety doors slammed shut, leaving poor souls who were too late in the open and in the vicious line of sight for those looking to hunt. “Your government is announcing the commencement of the lovesick purge. All participants must obey the rules given and indoctrinated-” the message drones on, turning to muffled booms as you rush through the alleyways and stomp through the puddles in your way.

God you hated this time of year. You were never prepared for it, never ready to handle the horrified screams and gunshots going off until morning rise. Praying never brought the sun up any faster but hey, it passed the time. This year you just wanted to hide away in your room like last time and blare music through your headphones, hiding in a cupboard or maybe that hallway closet. Last time it was kinda cozy.

You have to actually get home first, but why wouldn’t you? You knew your shortcuts, your danger zones, and how to fight dirty incase someone picked a fight. You’d like to think you could handle yourself.

You slide into another alley and catch your breath, watching as three people rush past and argue over where to go and what to do. You didn’t bother getting involved or helping, it was every man for himself and kindness could very well get you killed. You wait to see what happens to the three, and when nothing but silence follows, you try not to think about the outcome.

Cracking your neck, you take a breath and begin to run again, having just a few more blocks to “safety”. That being a building thats very easy to bust into and a door that could be broken by just a breath. But it was home, and home is where we subconsciously think no harm will come.

A large hand on your shoulder stops you dead in your tracks, yanking you back into the darkness of the alley. You begin to fight, kicking and biting while trying to escape the grip of your possible killer, your fists making little to no impact with every blow.

Well that’s embarrassing. You thought you were stronger than that.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m not gonna hurt you” the voice pacifies, a deep chuckle following as the male forces your arms behind your back. You recognized that voice, hearing it speak on the news and on social media constantly.

Not in a heroic manner, not in some savior like way. This man was the tormentor everyone feared. This was the infamous villain All Smite. The man who can kill without remorse and destroy with a smile on his face, has you in his grip for god knows what.

“Silent now? I pegged you as a screamer” he joked, watching you roll your eyes at the innuendo. “I don’t exactly know what to say. I know begging won’t do shit” you admit with a nervous swallow, trying to avoid pissing him off and making the situation worse. Panicking wouldn’t help, no matter how good of an idea your brain made it seem.

The bulking blond laughs, and presses his head against the nape of your neck as he tightens your bonds. “This is why I love you. You’re so calm and calculating yet shy and timid. Cute and sexy. Just my type”. Wait, wait, just his type? Wasn’t he tying you up to like, throw you in a river or something? Break your bones and take your money? No! No there’s no way in hell this man is your yandere! You weren’t even given a warning letter!

Then again you suppose he’s a villain, why would he go by the rules? You not knowing gave him a larger advantage on catching you. You shiver feeling his large hands roam over you, as if checking for weapons and hidden items, but also a cheap way to cop a feel. “P-Pervert” you bit out, knowing that no matter what you said, what you did, you’d only lose and be his entertainment. He loved it when his victims begged and sobbed.

You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

All Smite gently lifts you, cradling you as he begins walking down the street with bravado. Dude always has to put on a show. “You’re just going to kill me after this aren’t you? Hurt me, bruise me up, and slit my neck?” you asked bitterly, accepting your fate a bit faster than mentally healthy. Unless of course you were dead on the inside like the author.

All smite gave you an odd look. Brows furrowed in what you dare call concern, as if you were the one acting odd and dangerous. “I don’t think you fully grasp what’s occurring. You’re mine. Captured. My lover to be unless you escape the next purge. Bonded to me and me bonded to you”.

Yeah...ok you’re kidnapped. That should be sinking in, this shouldn’t be so casual, this shouldn't be so calm as it is. You just don't feel a fight in you. Almost like...like you wanted this to happen. Like you wanted to be caught and give up. You should be fighting more than this, tied up or not, but instead you’re empty and waiting for a fantasy that isn’t to come.

The villain gently brushes your hair away from your face, and sighs lovingly “You’ve been hurting for so long. You’ve been abandoned by those who are supposed to protect you, been cut by those who say they love you. You’re tired”.

“Shut up” you spit “You don’t know shit! You’re just playing mind games”.

He only gives a hum in response, opening the door to his hideout while you try to ignore the fact he hit some nerves. “I’ve watched you for a while, you know?” he plops you down on his couch, watching your eyes avert his gaze as he continues. “I’ve seen the hurt those people gave you. The condescending tones over your achievements, the scolding you when you finally come out of your shell, the audacity to belittle you when you’re doing your best and trying to survive and they only sit on their asses”.

You glare with tears in your eyes, spitting out bitterly “What’s your fucking point? What you-you wanna break me down and start from there?! See how deep those fucking scars go? Want me to tell you how they used to beat me-”

He hushes you softly, making you choke back a sob as he just holds your head in his large hands, wiping away your angry tears. “I want to be here for you. Help you heal yourself and show you that I can be the only person you need. A strong person like you deserves to be spoiled and worshipped. “ he kisses the top of your head, holding you as you shudder out more confused tears. Relief and grief, pain and soothing, it was so odd.

Could you really trust him? He’s probably just manipulating you for some sick game of his! “L-Like I can trust a single word from that snake like mouth” you meekly comment, fists clenching in their bindings as All Smite just continues to stroke your hair. “You can’t. Not yet. But I plan to prove that you can trust me, and plan to show you how devoted I am to you and our love”.

You squint in disbelief once again “I’m not in love with you”.

A wicked grin spreads on his face as he steals a quick kiss “You will be”

-Mommabean

[fairycosmos]

god do you also get scared when your parents are angry even though you're an adult?? i feel like crying and my heart goes crazy and i want to hide im terrified of their anger and i always seem to be the cause

hi yeah i totally know what you mean - i think a lot of ppl do, for those who were raised by fear, that's always going to be the go-to reaction unfortunately. so i like my dad, but i'm trying to get really good at talking to him in a way that doesn't set him off. i know if is say the slightly wrong thing at the slightly wrong time, esp if he's had smth to drink, it's going to end badly. so i've been trying to learn to not outwardly react or entertain it as much. but it's like navigating a landmine. i also feel like crying, and my heart goes mad and i feel kind of sick whenever i make a misstep, it's awful. i wanted to say that i know it's easy to internalise guilt and self-blame when this happens, but i think it's important to understand that they are the only people responsible for how they express their own anger. it's up to them to communicate like a mature human being, and if they refuse to even try, then you don't have to give their words any credence at all. it says everything about them and their own lack of emotional intelligence / empathy, and nothing about you. you're not the cause, you're just witnessing their bullshit.

they are are grown adults. nothing you ever do or say means that you deserve to feel so unsafe around people who are supposed to protect you, and be there for you and take care of you. yes, even if you're not a kid anymore. it's not right and it's not your fault, and it's not a sign that you're doing something wrong either. some people are just shitty individuals and even shittier parents, but that's never going to be on you. obviously, we can't just stop feeling scared, or simply "get over it" - especially when this response has been ingrained in us since childhood - it sounds like your parents have been putting you through a lot of crap for a long time, and your brain is acting intuitively based off of that mistreatment. i understand that that can take years to truly work through, maybe the entirety of our adult lives. these thinking patterns are burned into your mind + your core beliefs, which is partially what makes it all so fucking unfair, so painful and disorienting.  but we can start with grounding ourselves in reality via self compassion, we can start by reminding ourselves that it's not our job to make ourselves small to avoid our parent's toddler tantrums. we can start with emotionally or literally distancing ourselves from toxic individuals to preserve our own mental health, we can start with considering therapy or other avenues of support i.e a hotline or a support group - maybe that feels drastic to you, but i'm trying to get across how worrying this ask is and how much you deserve to feel listened to, to feel like you have options beyond it. because you do, even if they take a while to open up to you fully. anyway, i won't ramble for too long but just know i completely get where you're coming from, and i'd fucking eat ur parents alive if i could. if you need a friend or anything, don't hesitate to say hi in the inbox, i'll be willing to lend an ear. ur absolutely not alone. sending you a huge hug. please take care of yourself and fuck the rest! x

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

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-

[iridiscent-aesthetics]

I just saw your headcanon of az being jealous of gwyn and eris, may I suggest the opposite? gwyn being jealous of az and eris talking.

Oh I LOVE this one! Might be a tad bit tricky but I'm soo very up for it! Thank you @aelingalathyniusrailme for SUCH a great idea!

Gwyn would've found this entertaining. IF it wasn't Azriel there. She was aware of their hatred. Aware that they were literally always at each others throats. But she couldn't help but fume with jealousy while watching them in the training ring take on each other. Blow to blow, matching at each stride. She was watching Eris and Az spar. It began with a heated argument leading to the Autumn court heir challenging the Shadowsinger to spar. And now here they were, since a straight of 15 minutes, sparring. Neither nowhere close to yielding. Gwyn was cursing the redheaded male with all she had for choosing sparring instead of dueling. The absence of the weapons as a bridge and the proximity of their sweaty bodies was too much, nor did it help that neither had a shirt on. The angst, the tension built between them; it seemed straight out of one of her smutty romance books. Gwyn wasn't liking this one bit. "Come on guys, We get it! You're strong and bold. You're Fearless males! There. fed your bloated male egos. Now stop. would you?!" She yelled, throwing her hands in the air frustrated. "Let them be Gwyn, this is far more entertaining than having to listen them arguing to the point of biting each others heads off." Cassian stood besides her crossing his arms and watching them with a hint of curiosity as to who would win. Gwyn bet her money on Az because she would have it no other way, but as much as she hated to admit, Eris was just as good. "Yeah Gwyn. Besides, two of the hottest males fighting, now that's a sight to sore eyes. Enjoy the show!" Nesta chimed in elbowing her, eyeing Cass as he put his hand to his heart and feigned a dramatic expression of pain. Nesta rolled her eyes. "Oh I'll give you a good show Ness." He said scooping her in his arms and took to the sky. Newly mated idiots, couldn't stay away for a minute. Gwyn looked back to the ring and groaned "Well at least take a break!" "Okay!" Yelled Az before delivering a good blow right to Eris's jaw. "Break." There. That should teach the male a lesson for getting all cocky and getting Az worked up. "Going easy on me Shadowsinger?" Eris said rubbing his jaw. Mother! this male's audacity was insufferable! "Wouldn't want to ruin that pretty face of yours, your highness." Az smirked back. Gwyneth clenched her fist. Pretty face?! What in all of Prythian made Az think Eris was pretty! Did he find him attractive? Was he into males? Eris was beyond fine, he was VERY attractive. A strong jaw and sharp eyes with a strong intensity. The male was hot . quite literally. He would make a fit equal to Az. His lethal darkness and Eris's burning fire. She shook her head, No. She was over thinking, Az hated Eris; old bad blood. There was no way he'd fall for him. But she'd make sure of it. Az walked out of the training pit and straight to her, sweat dripping off him. Gwyn couldn't tear her eyes off him. "Enjoying the show Berdara?" Came a teasing Azriels' voice. "Mhmm." She didn't even want to deny it, let him know she was attracted to him. About time it got through that dense head of the Night Court's infamous Spymaster. "Hey Az..., what's your type?" She shot him the question looking everywhere but him. He shot his head to her. "What?" She finally met his gaze. "I'm asking you what kind of people you're attracted to Shadowsinger!" Gwyn was certain her face was as red as her hair now. He looked into her eyes for a hard moment before answering in a low voice. "Redheads. Stubborn ones with a fiery attitude at that. Bonus if they're competitive." He was still looking straight into her eyes, with a small smirk, tilting his head aside as if waiting for her expression, while his shadows were dancing around her in excitement. Gwyn's jaw almost dropped. Along with her heart as it fell to her shoe. She was right. Of course. Of course he was attracted to fucking Eris. Redhead, stubborn, fiery attitude AND competitive. Should've added fire d*ck to the list. "Right." She'd say nothing else. She looked away. "Gwyn?" Came his voice again. Her heart ached as she looked over

to Azriel's concerned face, trying to keep her sorrow reeled in within her. His shadows were frantically jumping around them. "Is everything alright, why'd you ask?" She gave him her best smile. "Yes of course." she waved it off. " just curious." He didn't seem convinced at the slightest but didn't push as he held up a water bottle and drank. Gwyn couldn't stop herself then, She was still his friend, He deserved to be happy, even if not with her. She'd help him pursue Eris. Even if the male would never deserve Az. "So I take it you're into males?" Az choked on the water he was drinking. "What?" He croaked out. Gwyn rose an eyebrow. "Males Shadowsinger, the ones that usually have a d*ck and insufferable egos but pea sized brains?" Azriel looked amused. "You forget that I'm a male too priestess." "Didn't." She muttered and leveled him with a bored stare. "Answer the question Spymaster." Az looked away, his gaze probably searching for Eris. "I've had male lovers in the past. But I've never felt a strong attraction, especially romantic attraction to them over five centuries. Pretty sure nothing's changed now." "Then Eris- how, He's an exception?" Azriel looked at her with a bewildered expression eyes widened. "Eris? What-why, what about him Gwyn?" Gwyn rolled her eyes, hands on her hips, looking down at him. "Quit the puppy eyes act Az. It fine admitting you're attracted to Eris, he's okayish. You'd look good together I guess. Enemies to Lovers arc, angsty slow burn romance,," she shrugged nonchalantly even though she was fuming inside. Az's shadows dropped. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Should he laugh, should he be hurt, or angry maybe? Eris? Of all people in Prythian, HIM? Gwyn though he was attracted to THAT male? "Gwyneth." He started in an emotionless tone face solemn, "What the actual fuck led you to THAT conclusion?" "Oh please. It was evident, for all that being Spymaster and stuff, you sure are obvious about your crushes. I mean for starts, you HATE him, or at least ACT like you do. That's always the first step to enemies to lovers. And then you guys are ALWAYS bantering! Score 2. And did you SEE that tension while you were sparring? AND Flirting with Eris? Its clear as day 'Mr. I show No Emotion'. And Redheads? Seriously Az, could you have even tried and been any more subtle? Az looked at her for a dead half a minute and then burst out laughing so hard that everyone in the training arena were now staring at them in pure shock to see the infamous Spymaster laughing his ass off. Az looked at her, trying to stop laughing, but one look at her angry face and he burst out in fits all over again. Gwyn kicked him good and hard in the knee. "Ouch!" He yelled, not stopped laughing as he held his knee. "Gwyn- I oh Cauldron. Wait." He heaved in and out. "Good shot Berdara." He said with a hint of pride, still chuckling. Gwyn kicked him again. "Nice try deflecting Spymaster." Az shook his head rapidly, still trying to catch his breath. He calmed down and looked at her. "Gwyneth Berdara. My darling. You thought I was attracted to Eris?" He started laughing again. Gwyn grew nervous, "You're not? But you said Redhead, Stubborn, Fiery attitude, Competitive. Eris is all that." "Well I'm not attracted to Eris. AT ALL. Please don't ever say or even think of that again. Please. For the sake of my sanity." Gwyn sighed in relief. "Sorry, I assumed Wrong." But then she tensed again. "But then, if not Eris, then..." She trailed off. If he wasn't attracted to Eris, then who else was it? Redheads? Lucien? Az stood up and held her arms. "Gwyn. Gwyn look at me." She looked up at him with weary eyes. "Can you think of a better Redhead? A stubborn, competitive, fierce one? She's fearless and strong." Gwyn scrunched her nose in thought. A she, was it Vassa? He flicked her nose. "She's a Valkyrie Gwyn." A Valkyrie? There weren't many new ones other than her, Emerie and Nesta, only about two or three. She looked around to see if there were any redheads in them. Az rubbed his hands on his face. "Mother's sake Gwyn,

its YOU." Her eyes shot to his in disbelief. He liked HER? "I- you, me?" She pointed a finger to herself. "You like me?" Azriel was furiously blushing red, he rubbed the back of his neck giving her a sided grin. "Yeah...that's what I'm saying..." Gwyn thought she was going to burst with all the emotions. "I-" Before she could say anything else Eris walked up to them. "Break over yet Shadowsinger?" He smirked. Gwyn growled, literally growled and stepped in front of Az. "Stay away from him Eris, find someone else to play fight. If I see you anywhere near him or talking to him, I swear to the mother, I will rip your throat out." Eris took a step back at her promised violence. "Hiding behind a female, Scared of losing Spymaster?" Gwyn took a step at him, she was certain she'd show Eris hell today. "Leave us alone Eris. I've scored my best win today." He said, looking at Gwyn fondly and putting a hand on her shoulder. Eris snorted and left muttering something to himself. "So..., are we going to talk about how adorable you are when you're jealous and angry? Especially over Eris?" Az teased her with a huge grin and happy eyes "I have no idea what you're talking about." Gwyn shrugged in charming irreverence. His gaze darkened as he looked into her ocean eyes, "You never finished what you were saying before asshole Eris butted in?" Gwyn gave him a soft smile before reaching up to his collar and pulling him down so she could kiss him. She pecked his lips once slightly before letting go and grinning at him while she walked away, leaving Az to process what happened and blush furiously like a teenager. He watched Gwyn walk away in victory. Mother, this female never failed to amaze him, And he was certain that this wouldn't be the last time. For the first time in five centuries, Az found hope. Found himself looking forward for the next day, and the rest of his life. Something sparked in his chest at the thought, A smile unconciously made way to his lips, like every time he thought of Gwyn; and this time, he didnt make to erase it. He'd let it for the world to see, the happiness Gwyneth Berdara brought to his life.

It's not about them talking exactly, but this seemed more fun to write😅

I tried! Not sure if it was good enough, but I've never really tried writing from Gwyn's POV.

Feedback, suggestions and other ideas always welcome!

[red-doll-face]

I just found your blog and I LOVE IT.

If I might ask: What’s your saddest dbd headcanons (killers or survivors)

Call me crazy, but I must know! ❤️

Ohh this one was a good one but it hurt me so badddd, ahhh. I’m glad to share , I have some bad dbd brain rot lmaooo I didn’t do every character so I hope these are ok 🥺 these are a bit long too

Sad Dead by Daylight Hcs

Claudette Morel:

Claudette is one of the criers. Probably cries while getting mori’d and can't help the tears during the really bad matches. Her pain tolerance isn’t very high, hence the willingness to waste time healing herself if it means she can stop being in so much pain.

Meg Thomas:

Spends time alone thinking about her past life. Her mother is a subject that makes her really frustrated. People mentioning their moms makes her a little standoffish. Wishes she had a chance to say goodbye in some way.

Ace Visconti:

Ace doesn't have much family to even miss him. He wonders if they noticed he’s gone or hasn’t come back. Maybe they think he hit big bucks and left them behind. Ace is stuck really. Even if he were to go back, he’d be dead or working off his debt.

Feng Min:

Gets super mad when she loses, it makes her so angry that she doesn’t control the trials. She blames other people for her losses but actually is very critical of herself. Casts the blame on others so she doesn't have to face her own mistakes.

David King:

All of his perks are about putting his ass on the line for his teammates yet everyone seems to think he’s selfish and a dumb brute. David doesn't know what to do to be more approachable; genuinely wants to be seen as a friend.

Laurie Strode:

Laurie never got the chance to mourn her friends. She thought she won. Finding out she’ll never truly escape Michael or be able to forget him makes her so mad. When she gets Michael in trials she makes sure the glass in her pocket is extra jagged and serrated.

Jane Romero:

Jane only wanted recognition and acknowledgement. Everything she's worked so hard for feels like a waste for her now. She should have spent more time on herself or with her father. Jane feels like she has no purpose anymore besides running and screaming for the enjoyment of the entity.

Yui Kimura:

Yui can’t stand the Clown or the Stealth Killers. Reminds her of bad memories. When she loses against killers like ghostface, she is especially angry.Her fighting spirit can’t help her actually get back at them.

Zarina Kassir:

Spent so much time fighting inequality only to spend the rest of her life where the odds are never in favor of the survivors. Where the oppressed are destined to lose. Each one of the people is subjugated, both killer and survivor and there's nothing she can do to free them.

Cheryl Mason:

She's been through literal hell and back just to end up in a weird recurring nightmare. At least Silent Hill had an escape. She's killed a god and somehow someone her size with a boxcutter can kill her? Huh.

Élodie Rakoto:

Feels guilty over the loss of her parents and feels extremely disillusioned by this realm. It's so much more boring than she thought it would be. All of her searching and traveling was not worth this shithole.

Steve Harrington:

Steve, though 18, is very much still a kid. Steve is naive about certain things and his optimism gets chipped away at a lot. Wasn’t too enthusiastic at having to care or look after Dustin and his friends but misses having people to protect.

Jeff Johannson:

Someone who definitely ends up taking hooks for people and ends up dying. Has a reputation among the killers as a survivor who is easy to leverage during the endgame because he will try for that save.

Kate Denson:

Feels very lucky to even have her guitar. The other survivors didn't get to bring many things with them. Makes her feel a little bad when she Often feels too worn out and exhausted by the trials to play it.

Quentin Smith:

Unfortunately stuck in pseudo-hell with his abuser. Gets really anxious against Freddy. Leans on his fellow survivors. Will sometimes accidentally bring Freddy to others in an attempt to get Freddy the hell away for him.

Evan ‘The Trapper’ Macmillan:

Actually has tried on numerous occasions to remove the metal rods and shrapnel embedded in his skin. It hurts like hell and just when he thinks he’s got it, he loses grip. These attempts never work.

Philip ‘The Wraith’ Ojomo:

When he’s alone, Philip will try and talk to himself. His vocal cords are warped, his voice a scratchy growl and garbled gurgle. He remembers what he used to sound like but he tries talking less and less.

Max ‘The Hillbilly’ Thompson Jr.:

Besides being named after someone who locked him away for most of his life? Max has to rest a lot between trials. The constant movement puts strain on him and causes him dull pain. His back causes him a lot of grief. The Entity is barely merciful.

Michael ‘The Shape’ Myers:

Meant to be forgotten by everyone who ever knew of him and he knows it. Loomis, after deciding that Michael couldn't be ‘fixed’ just hoped that the system would swallow him. If it weren't for the entity, Michael knows he'd either be dead or caught and back with Loomis.

Bubba ‘The Cannibal’ Sawyer:

Used to be one of the nicer killers to go against and might have been sweet to certain survivors who deserved kindness. But the Entity punished him for it. Bubba isn't very nice anymore. Probably a little meaner to avoid being in trouble again.

Amanda ‘The Pig’ Young:

Another one down to give second chances, much like the second chance she saw in John Kramer. Doesn’t do this a lot however, therefore escaping the ire of the Entity. She’s spent a lifetime hurting others emotionally and physically. Now, she’ll spend an eternity.

Rin ‘The Spirit’ Yamaoka:

The pain and anguish is so heavy but time is no cure in a place where time is nonexistent. No happiness to replace her rage. Especially in a place where her anger is a weapon for a greater power. Also has tried to pull the glass out of her skin and press her limbs back together. Can’t stand to see herself in the mirror.

Adiris ‘The Plague’:

Her body is always on the precipice of falling apart. Her skin rots; her flesh aches and feels like it will tear away at any moment. She is immortalized yet so close to death. Her body hurts so much but she has a purpose to serve. (makes me even sadder bc jannneeeee my mainnnnn😔)

Kazan ‘The Oni’ Yamaoka:

Misses his son. Never got to see him grow up, considering he;s already met his descendant. Proud from a distance because that's all he can be. The beginning of something so angry that it passes down his family line.

Caleb ‘The Deathslinger’ Quinn

During his life, was under the control of people who made him work for their gain who used him. The Entity emphasizes the killers as a position of power but Caleb does much of the same here. Works and works. Never for himself.

Pyramid Head ‘The Executioner’:

His existence has always included pain. He’s not quite sure what it’s like without it. He’s made several efforts to take the pyramid off. It pulls painfully at his neck. Makes awful groaning noises and roars.

Ji-Woon ‘The Trickster’ Hak:

Has never been much more than entertainment for other people since he was a child. Never expected to be much more. To the point that now, if he doesn't feel impressive in some way, he feels incomplete. The entity is his way to really indulge his ‘true artistry’.

Yun-Jin Lee:

A bit selfish when it comes to surviving. A few people around the campfire dont like her for that reason. Some of the meaner people will even leave her behind because they remember all of the times Yun-Jin might have done something similar.

Thanks for reading!!! I’m sorry I don’t post often but I have Shit ton of hw and I recently started a new project sooo ya know 💖💖💖