#snow covered tree dragon!

[hoard-of-dragons]

oilslick/umber/ice

[grimvestige]

Hahahahahah Tiarnan has no trauma from this scene whatsoever...unless? 😳Anyway have a scene from his backstory!

Anyway, thank goodness Leon was there, because if he wasn't there's a very good chance Tiarnan wouldn't have lived through this situation

timelapse under the cut, commission info in the source!

[controld3vil]

here we stand

pairing: jacerys velaryon x mormont!reader

synopsis: news had broken out that the throne has been usurped. jacerys rides his way to winterfell, the end to the north where he meets cregan stark. and in evidently, you, lady mormont of bear island.

notes: first of all, HE LOOKS SO GOOD w/ long hair !! also this mentions the first scene in s2 ep 1, i just tweeked a few things where now jacerys receives the terrible news days after getting acquitted in at winterfell. and bc i wished for more jace & cregan interaction >:( no beta reading btw !!

Duty is sacrifice.

All know of it. It bypasses any blood or foe. To honor one's duty is to sacrifice one's possessions. And oaths can last long over through generations. It is bypassing children and their children. It is the utmost fidelity any honorable man should know. If for the Seven Kingdoms and everyone at stake at what's beyond the Wall. A barrier that towers over seven hundred feet from what lies more gruesome than death.

Your cousin, Cregan Stark took up the responsibility as Lord of Winterfell, sometime after the passing of his father, Rickon Stark. He's a noble lad, he took upon the role at the age of six and ten. He was young but quickly learned how to command and serve the people. Much like his House's words, he understood what was coming. Though unexpected news of an envoy from Dragonstone had landed him in monetary consideration. Of what's to come with his men and the upcoming raging war.

"This is only late summer snow, my prince. In winter it will cover all you see and all memories of warmth will be forgotten." The metal chamber that brings them to the top of the Wall stops and both men walk out into the cold winter bridge. It's desolate and high in altitude.

Jacaerys could only imagine what it would feel like in wintertime, where there is nothing else but ice. "It pleases me that over a century ago our ancestors were treated in this very place. The Conqueror and the King in the North." His brown hair, inches longer, flutters past the cold air. Even with his blood, the descendant of the ferocious fire-breathing creatures, his heart still churns with a chill.

"You at least had the mercy not to threaten me with your dragon." The Lord of Winterfell smiles, eyeing the prince's reaction to the weather. No Southerner would know the true cold past summer.

The crowned prince returns his grin, looking out into the view beyond the Wall. From seven hundred feet above, everything, even the trees and people looked small. A wall that has been built this tall must offer security for what's beyond more terrifying than wildings and foes.

"While your men stand to protect against wildings and weather, the Hightowers plan to usurp my mother's throne. It is the duty of the Seven Kingdoms, and you, as Lord of Winterfell, to uphold your oaths sworn to the heir to the Iron Throne," Jacaerys gaze moves across where his eyes can take him off the Wall. It stretches out ridiculously long with men at every post. He has passed by a few to know whether or not, it was their obligation to join the Night's Watch, it was now their vow to protect this sacred place. However, he needed to remind Lord Stark of his reason for visiting. If the realm remained unbalanced, even Winterfell would not prosper.

"Starks do not forget our oaths, my prince," Cregan restates, with a look of sympathy and seriousness. "But you must know that my gaze will forever fall between the north and south. Here, in the winter, my duty to the Wall is more dire than what I ought in King's Landing. I need my men."

The prince of Dragonstone's look flickers, questionably. Until a holler from one of the watchmen signals Cregan of a visitor. He nods before glancing back at Jacaerys to dismiss him. A soft courtesy of his name before stepping down the post to greet the newcomer.

The cranks of the elevator come to a final stop. Before a pair of boots shuffle out of the old compartment to be met with the face of your cousin. Cregan's eyes meet yours in surprise and you subconsciously feel your shoulders untensed.

"Cousin,"

"Lady Mormont," He says with utmost respect as he can decipher the faint footsteps from behind Dragonstone's envoy. "What reason may you come to visit the Wall?"

"I received word that a messenger from Dragonstone came," Your bear fur coat holds you snug to protect you from the harsh winds. And your embroidered gloves, made from leather and deer fur have kept your fingers from freezing off during the trip to the edge of Winterfell. Your hands clasp together in an assertion. "Though I can already see he has arrived." Your soft stare transfigures onto Jacaerys and the sudden attention makes him slightly step aback.

Your lord gives you a playful look before turning back. "My prince, this is Lady Mormont of Bear Island. She is a close friend of mine and cousin." As embarrassed as the prince was, he could feel heat run up his spine as Jacaerys struggled to say anything welcoming.

"It is an honor to meet you, Lady Mormont,"

"The pleasure is mine," You blink innocently before addressing yet again your reason for presence. “Come, discuss matters over the fire,” 

Eventually, a week has gone by with Jacaerys Velayron’s stay. His extended stay has left questions and concerns for the townsfolk. However, Cregan reassures them, replying to them in short curt responses. In all, he explains the prince should rest before riding back to Dragonstone as it was a few days' journey from the North. This brought no rejection from either party and allowed the two boys to catch up and take into consideration the risks. 

You were always welcome at Winterfell. When you were little, your father, Lord Mormont, visited the black castle occasionally to meet with Lord Stark. The maids and servants knew you well as well as the Starks. They treated you like their own blood despite you being a distinct relative from a faraway island. Rare at times would they come to visit your home. Your homeland was not as welcoming as Winterfell some may say. Your House resided over lone shores, topped with horrific rock structures and charcoal reefs. A ruthless and barbaric landmark for the House of the Bear. 

“I appreciate your hospitality, Lord Stark,” Jacaerys starts, holding his ale cup to drink as all of the other guests gather to feast for the night. The three of you alongside Cregan’s son, Rickon, were seated at the high table, enjoying the luxurious scene before you all.

Large condiments of meats, pastries, and wine for the people, nobles of the Northmen. Feasts were something that brought together everyone during harsh times. In times of violence or sorrow, it is the shared appreciation you all must endure to move forward. That is true of what the people of the North had that no other House had. The Velaryron prince gives you an appreciative smile. “And to you, Lady Mormont, I thank you for your sincere support of my mother’s claim.”

“Here we stand,” You raise your goblet, reciting your very House words. True to what it meant, your family stood prepared for what days would come to an end. You understood one day you have a place in something greater when the moment was right and here it was now, lying right in front of you. Mormonts are known to be willing to fight even when the odds are against them. So were you when you declared fealty to Cregan Stark, your dear cousin. Your loyalty towards him would only mean you would go to the ends of the Earth to fulfill your promise. “And here we fight for the queen.” 

Despite not having Rhaenyra, her son knew she would be fond of you. Your attitude and strong integrity were something few held at King’s Landing. He acknowledged that people may not agree with his mother’s claim. However, there will always be those who still believe and support her. You are one of those people. Despite being hundreds of miles away from King’s Landing, Cregan and you showed fealty and loyalty to the oaths sworn nearly a decade ago. Some day, he wishes his mother would meet you. 

“Of course,” Cregan begins, settling his cup down, before patting for his son to come towards him. “With the men we have, it is guaranteed they’d be ready to march the earliest as of the morrow” Rickon starts off his wooden seat and shuffles to his father’s lap. A clumsy stumble and the Lord of Winterfell picks up the child with ease with a soft smile. “From there, the men will march to King’s Landing.”

“Then I should leave by the morrow,” Rhaenyra’s son places his arms on the table.

Your heart skips a half second, knowing that the time you spent together would be short-lived eventually. The prince was sent as a messenger, nothing more. His stay was long overdue, though no word from Dragonstone has the eyes of the ravens yet. It sinks to you momentarily when you place the last piece of meat into your mouth and down the last drops of your ale. 

“Yes, your visit has been short-lived,” Your cousin sighs, too aware of how the brief meeting would be over. Jacaerys was a good friend, being the same age as him, Cregan felt well acquainted with him. He had only wished that they had met under different circumstances and times. Perhaps when war wages on, they would meet again on the battlefield or after they have won against the Greens. Speculation of what was next was unknown. “But you have our support, my prince. Do not fret, we will prepare for what the Hightowers plan.” 

Jacaerys nods, understandably. He turns to you who sweetly bobs your head in agreement. How delicate your features looked in the dim ambers of the Winter halls. He’s enamored by your presence with how often he gravitates towards your direction.

He had always assumed Northern women would be different from Southerners. They were different. Northerners were divine in their way. You excluded such poise and delicacy, Jacaerys sometimes couldn’t help but become curious of you. Your hobbies, what you liked to do, what was your favorite food, and your most desired ambitions. Southerners in King’s Landing were graceful and fragile like the summer breeze. However, you were like a chilly snow cast. The cold, it’s welcoming and he constantly feels chills running down his spine whenever your eyes meet. 

“Now what do you think of the North?” Your lord light-heartedly brings up to lighten the mood. You and Cregan enjoyed the short mornings with the prince. The limited time you shared allowed for intimate discussions and a way to become acquainted with one another. The people, how things functioned, and how you adapted to the cold. It’s far much different than what he’s accustomed to in Dragonstone, where his home echoed through miles.  Compared to the North, Winterfell was exceptionally enormous but had a sense of home and warmth. 

“It’s different from Dragonstone,” The brown-haired envoy laughs, showing quite fond forever his home. “My home resides by the sea, surrounded by the high tides and rough shores. The castle is covered in obsidian stone and is known to be indestructible. My family has lived there for centuries now.” 

“How fascinating,” Your cousin breathes, showing his teeth. “I’ve heard stories about Dragonstone. Some say you can find dragon eggs deep in the mountains.”

“That is true, our dragons reside in caves. They lay their eggs in crystallized magma. Our dragon masters look after the eggs and know when the time is right to harvest them.” 

“What happens when a dragon egg doesn't hatch?” You lean your head forward, hands clasped together again. Learning about his family and their customs kept your interest for a long time. Not many Southern Houses come to visit from King’s Landing. They rather stay where it is warm and avoid the uncomfortable weather and travel to the North. Your eagerness was appreciated when Jacearys considered your question. 

“We wouldn’t know for sure when they would or would not hatch. We simply wait it out.” He quirks a gentle smile when your gaze is sort of magnetic. It’s like you were in a trance every time he spoke of anything he was interested in. 

“How long have you waited for one to hatch?” Cregan picks up his cup again to refill while his son pivots to run to the other side of the table, only to be greeted by you. With big smiles, you gladly carried the child to your side. 

“A few years,” Jacearys remembers the day well. He remembers his brother Joffrey, struggling and whining to his mother about his egg. He was as young as four, however in the first three years of his life, his dragon had not hatched. It’s a mystery when the dragon decides to break out of its shell. He was fortunate with Vermax after months of being born, his companion was right beside him from the start. Lucerys had a similar reaction. Rhaenyra often told stories of many instances of good and bad hatchlings alongside their rider. Some may not have been awakened by its rider, for they might have been dead already. The unknown enigma of those ferocious beasts pales in the prince’s head.

“It must’ve been unpleasant,” You joked, hugging Rickon tightly, having his cheek meet with yours. The young boy giggles loudly, taking hold of both of your cheeks in excitement. 

The atmosphere felt sublime and almost too perfect. Here in the warmth and formality of the Stark Household, everyone was lively and heeded no sorrows. How the prince wished upon the same for Dragonstone. If only the realm was brought together and the Hightowers had not usurped his mother’s throne despite her rightful claim. Would his family be united and happy finally?

He wasn’t sure as Jacaerys had never known familial love on his mother’s side. Both of his uncles vexed him, Luke and Joffrey. Helaena was kind, however, never showing malice towards him and his brothers. But the Hand of the King, and Queen Regent. Quiet in their schemes and distaste for bastards. 

Affection is what fills the prince’s chest with glee. As he scans the dining room of men, women, and children, they all feast and brawl over pointless endeavors. The scent of mead and hot fresh meat fills the room with chaotic laughter and nonsensical bubbling. In another time and place, Jacaerys would have been thrilled to visit Winterfell during this time of year. 

And his gaze slowly follows the wisp of your faint figure by the fireplace. With the heir of House Stark, you blow raspberry kisses against Rickon’s hot cheeks. As the boy squeals in delight, grabbing at the ends of your hair like ropes on the ship, bouncing them back and forth. You were good to Rickon, Jacaerys knows you care for the boy like it were your son. He thinks Cregan is grateful to have someone's endearment and protection toward his son. For the lack of a maternal figure had been long gone. You would be a great mother one day, he deciphers. You constantly fiddle Rickon’s hair which reminds him of his mother when he was little. 

It was such a faint memory that stuck in his mind whenever he saw you with the children. Rhaenyra would question him if she were here. Mothers had a knack for spotting things such as things. The prince knew of his interest in you. However, would you do the same if he made them clear as day?

You never said anything to him. It makes him question if you were truly interested or not. You’ve shown fondness over meals and spoke of jokes whenever he came out to the stables, where his poor dragon, Vermax, gruntled in the snow. 

“I’m sorry the farmers could not do much to help your dragon!” You shouted out one day in the early sunrise. He takes a few steps from his companion to find you in white fur coats and boots. You looked beautiful, the color suits you. As elegant and dainty as the pigment of his mother’s hair. Your locks were braided halfway with the rest, flowing down from your ears to your shoulders. “We don’t often have dragons visit us in the North!”

The prince laughs with small puffs of his breath becoming visible. “The stable boys did a fine job in accompanying Vermax.” At the call of his dragon’s name, it slowly hovers over his dragon rider. It purrs warmly in the frost as your eyes glower in fascination.

“He’s beautiful,” Your voice is nearly breathless at the size difference Vermax has over the buildings and people. It is a creature that comes far beyond your imagination and fairy tales. It's olive green scale prickle in delight as your eyes began to wonder back and forth. Dragons were rare in the North and it must’ve been a relentless recurrence for the people in King’s Landing. 

The prince hums before kicking a chunk of frozen dirt. He makes an effort to be bold for once. “Would you like to pet him?” 

You looked shook and it made him struggle to keep a composed posture. You stumble to make any words come out of your mouth. “I- May I?” 

“Of course,” The dragon rider comes forward and grabs your hand, dragging himself closer to the beast. The sudden contact and closure make your heart beat faster than anticipated. As you find yourself glancing up at its reptilian eyes. In horror, you hold your ground, wanting nothing more than to back away. “It’s alright, he won’t hurt you.” 

Jacery’s reassurance doesn't comfort you as you resist his grip on your wrist. Vermax merely stands, grumbling in curiosity as to your stricken presence. It’s trying to inquire about your anxiety when it was the reason for it in the first place.

Taking a short take of air, you stand in place. You did your best to calm your breathing, feeling a hand on your lower back to support you. Your dainty eyes meet the prince. And within contact, it felt as though you felt everything would be alright. His touch soothed your racing heart as you excelled forward, step by step closer to the beast. For you, it must’ve felt like the clock had slowed down when you were merely inches away from Vermax. Its enormous size was breathtaking and you could make your lungs free of oxygen again. 

Yet your state of mind returns when the queen’s heir comes into view. The air felt a tension between fear and anxiety. It was both exhilarating and terrifying for someone who has never seen a dragon up close before. You took the last big step when you lifted your fingers above its nose. 

Vermax shivered and at the last minute, you wanted to back out. Until Jacaerys hand envelopes over your hand to pet his companion. With such care and attentiveness, you should have realized the prince’s advances towards you by now.

The Godswood was a welcoming pastime you’ve grown to respect. With the decline in visits, you’ve come to value the historic tree for what it stood for and the ancestral value it had over your people. Cregan did not mind whenever you went away to pay your respects. He knew how important it was to you to respect the old gods and the new. War was coming. If you were going to support Rhaenyra, you only wish for your men to come out victorious. 

You were no war-picking woman. But death was something you’ve come to accept recently. The passing of Rickon Stark brought a hole in your heart. You mourned in your ways, and so did Cregan when you had heard he had taken the mantle as Lord of Winterfell. He still is a young man, barely over six and ten. The best you could do was offer your presence and time. To him, being present with the people and acting lively was enough for him to regain his mind. Everyone looked up to Rickon for what he stood for and the House. There is no doubt Cregan would do the same in the coming time to King’s Landing. 

“It’s saddening, isn’t it?” You breathe into the crisp air, only to feel your throat grow dry. But the person behind you knows you were referring to them. “How war affects us all.” 

The prince of Dragonstone steps out from the shadows. His steps were slow and gruff, still worn out from the feast and the massive amount of ale that was offered to him. But you were the only thing that had piqued his interest. You were quiet, not expecting an answer from him. Until he stepped and stopped right beside you, shoulders nearly touching but inches apart. Your bear coat was held loosely on you as he recalled you too struggled to leave the dining table. You all drank too much tonight. 

“The Godswood know of it all. They see everything,” The bear bronze sigil shines past his peripherals when he cannot meet your gaze. You were not drunk enough to do something reckless but not too sober to do anything either. 

In return, all you could ever see was Jacaerys furrowed expression. He’s contemplating something. But you choose to stare and take in his features with such interest and curiosity. His soft and tranquil pout resembles much of a wolf you’ve seen. As though his curly strands, which you would imagine, are dim to the touch. The prince holds assertiveness in his duty, falling into the role of heir as for his queen. Perhaps he’s everything that his mother stood for. You admired it. 

“Know you and your men's contributions would be known,” He whispers, it’s clear you could feel his breath close to your neck. The dark clouds could not even hide the indisputable truth. The crescent moon gleams somewhere in the far distance you can’t seem to find. But you know what’s true. Because moments ago, you could discern his distance inches away. Now it seems that he wants to close the gap by the second. “And that…”

“That we did our duties, nothing more.” You pant, unable to keep your eyes from moving from his gaze and lips. Strands of his dark brown hair trickle against your cheeks as you take one last glimpse at your prince. If any of this was acceptable. You wouldn’t exceed further to know he’d reject your proclaimed assumptions. 

But nothing happens. It was as though the chill in the air had changed. When another figure reappears out of the shadows and into the light. Jacaerys distances himself from you. While you did your best to compose yourself for being caught red-handed by a servant boy.

“My Lady,” The innocent boy chants, as he holds up a scroll. “A message from Dragonstone.” Jacearys’s eyes shot up as you were given the letter. The moment you give the signal of approval, the servant boy leaves into the abyss and back into the cabin. 

You unlatched the curly paper and patiently read its contents. The prince carefully awaits, every so longing to catch any misdemeanor you would have upon what letter had. He hopes and wishes it is good news more than anything. But you held a stone-cold expression and when you looked up at him, he could only discern sorrow with the words that come out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, my prince.”

[chaotic-minds-think-alike]

Finally finishing all these guys we’ve got charts and headcanons! (Long post)

(Height)

(Wingspan)

(Body length & basic shapes I used) (it might be odd but ignore any detail on the back, the shapes are for general body shape)

Headcanons:

Seawings: - Colors range from red and purple to yellow - Aquatic is based off areas of bioluminescence rather than singular scales (because no one wants to draw all of those) - Although they average small compared to the other tribes, gigantism is more common - Wing bioluminescence gene is always present but for some doesn't show, thus aquatic doesn't utilize the wings

Rainwings: - Can change the texture of their scales alongside color - Weakest bite due to their fangs, probably why they're vegetarian - Mimic interesting behaviors - Have forked tongues

Mudwings: - Colors range from olive green to purple-ish red - Very resilient - Able to breathe fire regardless of body temperature, the heat of the flame depends on body temp - Their horns constantly grow and sometimes have to be cut due to dangerous growing patterns - Love gnawing on things, tough foods like jerky is popular - The horn covers of fallen siblings are harvested and turned into instruments to remember them by

Leafwings: - Colors range from gold to teal (and pink to olive green during cold seasons) - Can appear to have false eyes - Bug-like just like the other Pantalan residents (because they're just some weird outlier like what is going on here) - Leafspeak doesn't actually allow them to hear voices from plants but rather increase the sensitivity of their antennae which pick up on the changes in plants - In colder seasons, regions that have deciduous trees influence leafwings in that their scales change into warm tones similar to fallen leaves for camouflage but this also negatively impacts one's leafspeak ability; this doesn't apply to evergreen leafwings however

Hivewings: - Colors range from hot pink to olive green - Can appear to have false eyes - Have elbowed antennae just like their "cousins", Hymenoptera (wasps, bees, ants) - Tend to disregard personal space/get close out of habit, being close means better temp regulation and better communication - All hivewings have stingers, wrist stingers, and a venomous bite but it largely depends on preference of which they choose and like muscles, they can be exercised to become deadly weapons - They're not capable of "emitting a horrible stench"

Icewings: - Colors range from white to pale indigo - Melanism is still very rare but more likely in icewings - Can be iridescent in any color, especially visible in lighter scaled individuals - The scales on their face is very fine and is flushed with blood which darkens the area and allows them to see in the snow by absorbing light, otherwise the glare from the sun reflecting off would be a hinderance - Their wings are thin and thus have visible veins most of the time - Idk how to describe their scales other than its kinda like basalt formations - From the side they appear large but are actually thin and flexible - They can freeze to death if they've gone without cold for a long time and then reintroduced too quickly - In hybridization, they have dominant genes, partially because the animus gene - The extra mane of horns can appear randomly on the body in singular spikes, they also make a clink sound when they collide as if they're made of ice, making a pretty scary rattle when disturbed

Nightwings: - Colors range from orange to purple - Albinism is still very rare but more likely in nightwings - Dwarfism is more common - Teardrop scales are always present, highlighted when the dragon has powers regardless of type - Pitbull ready to bite kids - They CAN hang upside down as the books suggest but not for long - By taking dust baths, they dull their scales to reflect less light and blend in better in the dark - Have white fire but cant breathe for long due to how hot it is (this is mainly to add onto the mysterious factor of em and I always liked the idea) - Due to eye sensitivity, they hate sudden bright lights and will close their eyes as they breathe fire

Silkwings: - Can have black or dark accents but never as a whole body color unless they've hybridized - Wing shapes vary widely - Can appear to have false eyes - Flamesilk is rarer than one might think - Very flexible and have strong tails used as a sort of 5th limb in climbing - Albino or melanistic dragons still keep their iridescence - Silk is emitted through a spinneret on the chin rather than the wrists - Prefer to travel in pairs (instinct)

Sandwings: - Colors range from red to olive green - Dark patters often mimic a snake's - Horse-like in complexion - Alongside their snake-like appearance, they have pit organs - Tend to move like birds - Poor eyesight but good hearing - Their horns angle upwards sort of like a bull

Skywings: - Colors range from red to yellow (and green because skywings are meant to be your typical fire breathing dragon which is most often depicted to be red but can also be green) - Tend to move like birds - Weaker than they appear - Green skywings are incapable of being or having flamescales - Their horns constantly grow and have to be filed down - A flamescale cant melt rock or metal by touch alone, only via fire is it possible - It's not that they don't want flamescales that they kill them, it's more of a mercy killing because of how lonely their life can be

[idkyetxoxo]

Cregan Stark - Northern Oaths

Summary - The fearless princess, captivated by the raw beauty of the North, faces a harrowing ordeal when abducted. Lord Cregan Stark, mesmerised by her charm and charisma, is driven by deep concern to rescue her, braving the dangers of the wild to save her.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x Velaryon reader

Warnings - Violence (injury)

Word count - 2698

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"I am more than capable of completing the journey on horseback, just like the others," I declared confidently, my fingers gently tracing the silky mane of the horse before me.

"Princess, I only mean to suggest that a carriage might offer a more comfortable option," Lord Stark replied, a hint of concern in his voice. I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head in amusement.

"Lord Stark, my title may be 'princess,' but that does not mean I shy away from riding such a magnificent creature," I said, smiling as I carefully wove a braid into the horse's white mane, mirroring the intricate braid that adorned my hair.

"Of course," he conceded with a respectful nod. "Though I can only hope this fine beast provides as satisfactory a ride as your dragon," he added, a twinkle of humour in his eyes.

I chuckled at his words. "We best not let Silverwing hear such talk—she's rather possessive," I teased, swinging myself gracefully into the saddle.

As we began our journey to the Wall, the cold Northern air filled my lungs, invigorating and fresh. The landscape around us was a vast canvas of snow-draped hills and ancient trees, their branches heavy with frost. 

The North was wild, untamed, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Cregan rode beside me, his horse moving with practised ease through the snow-covered terrain. I took in the landscape, the wild beauty stretching out before us. 

"There's something captivating about the North," I remarked, my voice thoughtful. "It's untamed, yet undeniably beautiful."

Cregan glanced over at me, a faint smile curving his lips. "The North's beauty isn't always apparent at first glance, but it reveals itself to those who take the time to understand it."

I nodded, feeling a quiet understanding in his words. "I can see why your people hold it so dearly. There's a raw honesty to the land, something that feels... unspoiled."

He regarded me with a look of quiet appreciation. "It's rare to meet someone who sees the North as more than just a harsh, cold place. You seem to understand its true nature."

I met his gaze, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Perhaps it takes a certain kind of person to appreciate it. Someone who doesn't mind looking a little deeper."

"Or someone who values strength and resilience," he added, his tone thoughtful. "The North may be unforgiving, but it has a way of revealing what truly matters."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Comfort is all well and good, but it's often overrated, don't you think? I've always believed that a challenge is where you find the most reward."

Cregan's eyes flickered with something unreadable, though his expression remained composed. "Then the North might be exactly where you belong, Princess."

His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made me pause. Our exchange was subtle, an unspoken understanding that lingered in the crisp air between us. 

We spoke of the land, but it was clear that our words carried another layer of meaning, one that neither of us needed to fully articulate.

As our conversation continued, one of Cregan's men, a younger rider with a mischievous glint in his eye, drew his horse closer to us. He had been listening quietly, but now a playful smile crossed his face. 

"Begging your pardon, Princess," he said, glancing between Cregan and me, "but it seems to me that you handle a horse as well as any Northern rider. Perhaps you'd care to prove it?"

Cregan's expression tightened ever so slightly, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "That's not necessary," he interjected smoothly. "The road ahead is treacherous, and a race could be dangerous in these conditions."

I scoffed lightly, meeting Cregan's gaze with a challenge of my own. 

"Lord Stark, do you truly believe I would back down from a bit of friendly competition?" I asked, my tone teasing but resolute. "I've faced worse than a little snow."

The young rider grinned, clearly pleased with my response. "A race it is then, Princess," he said, his enthusiasm infectious. "We'll start on your count."

Cregan sighed, his protective instinct warring with his knowledge that he couldn't stop me. "Very well," he said quietly, though the concern in his voice remained.

I turned my attention to the rider, feeling the thrill of the challenge stir within me. "On three, then," I said, my voice steady with anticipation. "One... two... three!"

In an instant, we were off. The cold air rushed past my face, and the snow crunched beneath the horses' hooves as we sped across the landscape. The thrill of the race consumed my focus. I urged my horse forward, feeling the powerful muscles move beneath me as we cut through the snow, the land itself almost falling away in the rush.

Beside me, the rider pushed his horse to match mine, his competitive spirit driving him forward. 

As we disappeared from their sight, the other men exchanged grins and murmurs of approval, but it was Cregan's gaze that lingered on me, a mixture of respect and something deeper.

I finally pulled my horse to a screeching halt when a group of men suddenly blocked our path. Their appearance was jarring, dressed in heavy, untamed furs that spoke of a life lived in the harshest of conditions. 

The young rider beside me did the same, his expression shifting from excitement to alarm as we realized we were no longer alone.

I cast a glance over my shoulder, noting with growing unease the considerable distance we had put between ourselves and the rest of our group. A cold dread began to seep into my bones, replacing the thrill of the race.

"Apologies," I said, trying to maintain my composure as one of the men stepped forward, his rough hand reaching for the reins of my horse.

"Princess," the rider beside me murmured, his voice low and tense. I frowned at the worry etched across his face.

"These men are wildlings," he explained, his voice barely above a whisper. The term meant little to me, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Aye, we are," one of the wildlings confirmed, a dark grin spreading across his face. "And if such royalty is riding these roads, then I believe we deserve an introduction." 

His hand shot out, gripping my arm with a roughness that made my breath hitch. I recoiled, shaking him off with a sharp twist of my wrist. 

"Lord Stark will have your heads," the young rider beside me interjected, his voice filled with defiance as he dismounted his horse and moved protectively to my side. "She is his guest."

"Shut up, boy," the wildling snarled, shoving him aside with a brutal force that sent him stumbling.

Before I could react, more wildlings emerged from the shadows, surrounding us with predatory intent. Panic surged through me as the man who had grabbed my arm yanked me off my horse, his grip like iron as I struggled against him. 

"Let me go!" I shouted, thrashing wildly as they dragged me away from my horse.

The rider attempted to intervene but he was quickly overpowered by the wildlings, who struck him down with ruthless efficiency. I fought with every ounce of strength I had, but the wildlings were relentless, their hands bruising as they forced me through the snow-covered forest.

"Lord Stark will find you! He will—" My words were cut off as one of the wildlings, a hulking brute with a cruel sneer, struck me hard across the head. 

The world spun violently, my vision blurring as pain exploded in my skull. I tried to stay conscious, to fight, but darkness closed in, my strength fading with every passing second.

The last thing I heard was the distant sound of my screams, echoing through the cold, unforgiving wilderness as I was pulled further away from safety, until finally, everything went black.

Back with the others, Cregan kept his pace steady, though his thoughts lingered on the race ahead. He couldn't help but feel a nagging unease. The thrill of the race was one thing, but the North was unforgiving, its dangers lurking just out of sight.

It wasn't long before the silence of the snowy landscape was shattered by a distant, panicked shout. Cregan's heart dropped as he urged his horse forward, the other men quickly following suit.

As they rounded a bend in the trail, the sight that met them was chilling. My horse lay sprawled on the ground, its beautiful silver-braided mane stained with blood. 

The elegant creature that had carried me so effortlessly mere moments ago now struggled weakly, a painful whine escaping its throat. Blood soaked the snow beneath it, turning the pristine white ground into a gruesome scene of red.

Cregan dismounted in one fluid motion, his eyes scanning the scene with mounting dread. Near the fallen horse, the young rider who had joined in the race lay slumped, his body bruised and bloodied. 

His breath came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle. His hand pressed weakly against a gash on his side, blood seeping between his fingers.

Cregan rushed to his side, dropping to one knee as the men formed a protective circle around them, their eyes scanning the forest for any further danger. 

"Where is she?" Cregan demanded, his voice sharp with fear and urgency. "What happened?"

The rider coughed, blood staining his lips as he struggled to speak. "I tried...tried my best," he gasped, his voice filled with pain and guilt. "Wildlings... they ambushed us. They took her."

Cregan's heart pounded in his chest as the rider's words sank in. 

"They took her?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper as if saying it out loud would make it more real, more terrible.

The rider nodded weakly, his eyes clouded with pain and regret. "I fought... but there were too many. They overpowered us... they knocked her out and dragged her into the woods. I'm sorry, my lord, I—"

"Don't," Cregan interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "You did what you could. We'll get her back."

He turned to his men, his expression hardening into one of grim determination. 

"Search the area," he ordered, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "We need to find their trail. They can't have gone far."

The men nodded, their faces set with resolve as they spread out. Cregan stayed beside the injured rider, his jaw clenched as he surveyed the bloodstained snow. The sight of my horse, now struggling to breathe, filled him with a cold, simmering rage. 

This was his fault, he should have insisted on staying close, should have anticipated the dangers. I was out there, in the hands of wildlings, and every moment that passed put me in greater danger.

I woke to the sharp sting of cold air against my face, my body aching from the rough treatment I'd endured. Disoriented, I tried to move, only to find my hands bound tightly behind my back and a coarse gag tied around my mouth. 

Panic flared as I struggled against the restraints, my breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps.

The dim light filtered through the rough walls of a small, makeshift shelter. The air inside was thick with the scent of damp earth and unwashed bodies. My head throbbed from where I'd been struck, the pain radiating down my neck with each movement.

A shadow loomed over me, and I froze, my eyes widening in fear. A man with tangled hair and a filthy beard was kneeling beside me, his rough fingers combing through my hair as if inspecting it. 

His touch was far from gentle, tugging at the braids with a crude fascination. I recoiled inwardly, a shudder of revulsion passing through me, but I was helpless to stop him.

"Pretty princess," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. "Never seen hair like this. Like silver... like moonlight."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the horror of the situation, but the terror gnawed at me, refusing to be ignored. My mind raced with thoughts of escape, but every idea crumbled against the reality of my bindings and the presence of the wildlings who had captured me. 

I could hear their voices outside, speaking in rough tones, the words indistinct but filled with a sinister edge.

Suddenly, the shelter was filled with the sounds of chaos, shouts, the clash of steel, and the unmistakable thud of bodies hitting the ground. My eyes snapped open as the wildling beside me stiffened, his hand falling away from my hair as he reached for his weapon.

The noise grew louder, closer, and I could hear the unmistakable sound of swords cutting through the air, of men fighting for their lives. My heart leapt with hope, even as fear clawed at me. 

Was it possible? Had Cregan and the others found me?

The wildling cursed under his breath, his attention now fully on the commotion outside. He scrambled to his feet, drawing a crude blade as he moved toward the entrance of the shelter. 

Before he could step outside, the flap was thrown open, and Cregan burst in, his sword dripping with blood, his eyes blazing with fury.

The wildling barely had time to react before Cregan's sword flashed in the dim light, striking him down with a swift, decisive blow. The man crumpled to the ground, lifeless, as Cregan turned his attention to me.

The fierce determination in his eyes softened the moment he saw me, bound and gagged on the cold ground. He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands trembling slightly as he quickly cut through the ropes that held me captive.

"Princess," he breathed, his voice thick with relief. "I'm here. You're safe now."

As the bindings fell away, I pulled the gag from my mouth, and a sob escaped my lips before I could stop it. The fear, the helplessness, the dark possibilities of what could have happened, it all overwhelmed me in that instant.

I looked up at him, seeing not just a lord, but the man who had risked everything to bring me back. Tears streamed down my face as I reached out for him, needing to feel something solid, something real.

Cregan gathered me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest as if he could shield me from the horrors I had endured. 

"It's alright," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "You're safe, I swear it."

I clung to him, the sobs coming harder now, the terror of the past few hours releasing itself in waves. His presence was the only thing grounding me, keeping me from falling apart completely.

Cregan held me through it all, his hand gently stroking my hair as he murmured soft reassurances. The sounds of battle outside faded, replaced by the distant, muffled voices of his men securing the area. 

In that moment, all I could focus on was the steady rhythm of Cregan's heartbeat beneath my cheek, a reminder that I was no longer alone, no longer at the mercy of those who had taken me.

Finally, as the tears began to subside, I pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes. 

"I was so scared," I finally managed to whisper, my voice trembling and weak. "I—I thought..." My voice broke, and the words wouldn't come.

Cregan's thumb brushed away a tear from my cheek, his expression filled with a sorrow so deep it made my heart ache.

"I know," he said softly, his voice filled with a deep, unspoken regret. "And I apologise I wasn't there sooner."

I shook my head, my grip on his arms tightening. "You found me. That's all that matters."

He nodded, his gaze intense as he searched my face, as if reassuring himself that I was truly there, unharmed. 

"I won't let anything happen to you," he vowed, the weight of his words settling between us like a promise etched in stone. 

In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of the battle, the cold, and the lingering fear, I felt something else, an undeniable bond forged in the crucible of danger. 

I clung to the knowledge that Cregan had saved me but more than that, I held onto the realization that in his arms, the cold wilderness of the North didn't feel so wild anymore, it felt like home, like safety.

 After all, there has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath.

A/n - There was sm more I wanted to add and once it hit over 2.5k words I realised I had to reel it in lmaoo

[myladysapphire]

The Dragon and the Wolf (I)

You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.

word count: 2,305

CW: angst? depression, religious imagery, not proofread!

Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader

Masterlist | series masterlist | prologue | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

Winterfell was a truly beautiful place, it spanned acres of land, and at its centre stood the gods woods. The gods woods were truly the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. You were lucky that your rooms, in a tower touching the clouds, faced out onto the woods. Allowing the view to be one you woke up to day and night.

Though it was the only view you saw, as you rarely left your rooms, rarely ate, and said even fewer words and grew a cold exterior.

You at first were visited often by both Creagan and Sara. Though the visits and constant nickering had caused an outburst from you, anger you had never once felt or shown spilling through. You had demanded space. And Cregan had listened, Sara had not.

Sara tried everything in you to leave your room, but her attempts feel on deaf ears

Until today.

You often stood watching out of your window, though it had the spectacular view of looking out onto the gods woods, you could rarely see anyone between the endless trees.

That was until you saw him.

He stood kneeled before the heart tree, deep in thought and prayer. He seemed so peaceful, as if the woods were the one place he could find the peace and quiet he deserved.

A smile graced your face as a memory brushed your mind.

You had been at Winterfell less than a week before you had the chance to see the gods’ woods. Cregan had taken you there himself, he seemed like an egar puppy when you had asked to see it, standing up from his seat and instantly taking your hand, nearly running down the halls as you made your way to the entrance.

A calming breeze had hit your face as you entered the woods, the feeling of the hot springs between your feet, instantly warming your whole body. The woods were covered in a soft layer of snow, the floor almost entirely untouched as it seemed the only footsteps were that of your own and Cregan’s.

You walked for a time, walking through thick layers of untouched trees, before you finally reached the centre, and the heart tree stood in all its glory.

With red trees and white bark, it allowed the faces carved so naturally in it to appear so clearly, they seemed to watch your every move, and as Cregan knelt before the trees, you swear you saw there faces move and there mouths moving to answer whatever prays Cregan was saying.

It was a funny feeling, never before had you felt the presence of the gods, never in the sept or before a septon. But here, in a natural place, land untouched and no alters erected to honour said gods, you felt them. A calming presence but also the fear of complete superiority over you. They seemed to welcome you, enough so that you yourself moved forward and knelt before the tree. You did not pray as you felt no need to, and the gods did not demand it of you, they simply welcomed you and made you feel there warmth. You closed your eyes beside Cregan, basking in there presence, and when you opened your eyes, you came face to face with a smiling Cregan.

“It is beautiful is it not?” he asked

“Spectacular” you replied, “ I have never felt or seen anything like this…the gods woods at the red keep is a mockery to this”

He smiled softly “it is an experience that is hard to explain, is it not?”

You nodded, moving to stand, “do you spend much time here?”

“as much time as I can with my duties”

You nodded, “a shame, I feel as if I never want to leave”

He laughed softly “then perhaps you shouldn’t”

Looking back on it apart of you is glad the rest of your life will be spent here, with the gods woods as you view, and had the circumstances been better you were sure you would love Cregan by now, be happily married even.

Instead you haunted the halls, depressed and yet to marry. Speaking little to no words, eating little, and spending your days writing endless letters to your only surviving brother Aegon, and you sisters Baela and Rhaena. You missed them so dearly and yet you could not bare the thought of seeing them.

It had been months, they had moved on, there letters expressing happy lives, contenting in the life they now had. And you, you had simply stopped time and lived in and endless loop.

You dressed quickly and stormed out of your rooms. You didn’t know where you were going, but it seemed your feet had made up their mind as before you knew it you were striding into the gods woods, startling Cregan from his thoughts.

He said you name Softley, moving to stand “you’re here?” he asked in a question, as if he couldn’t believe it.

“i-“ you started, through your mind when blank, a trait not new to you, but this time you seemed scared to speak, the last time you had truly spoken your mind, was when you watched your mother burn and that only ended in screams. You did not speak one word for moons after that and only after did you speak sweet lies, painting the yourself to be the picture of love and loyalty, and now all you wanted was to speak the truth, to say the words breaking you from the inside out, and yet all you could say was “I’m sorry”.

“what?” he asked softly, “what are you sorry for?”

“for months I have ignored your and Saras efforts to help me, taking your kindness for granted and giving you nothing in return-“

“its okay” he interrupted kindly, “I only wanted to help you, I never expected anything in return”

“except to marry me” you replied, it was the truth, a clear point in the alliance struck between the north and your mother.

“I am in no rush to marry” he moved towards you, “you have been- we have been through so much, I am sure the lords of the north will understand waiting however long you need”

But that wasn’t the case, you both knew it. In fact just the other day Sara, in one of her efforts to annoy into speaking, had stated how the lords were in uproar of your lack of a union, House Bolton at the for front of the complaints.

Once you longed for the days you and he would marry, though things between you then had turned sweet and shy, you craved the days he would marry you.

The first time you saw him you were in awe of him. He towered over you, his face cold and blank, but his eyes held a warmth to them. He welcomed you formally, though it lacked warmth. You both knew why you were there and yet all you could do was stare at him. Tracing the outline of his face with your eyes. Wondering how his hair might feel between your fingers.

You had smiled shyly at him as he walked you through the halls though neither of you spoke until you reached his solar.

“I have come on the behest of my mother, Queen Rhaenyra of house Targaryen” your proclaimed, stating your mothers name and title proudly.

“queen?” he had hummed.

“yes, King Viserys sadly passed in his sleep” you spoke with sadness lacing your voice, “my mother has requested me to remind you of your of your fathers Oath”

“the north remembers, princess, and there is no Stark who forgets his oath.” He looked at you quizzically then “though I must ask why you have been sent here, has the north caused mistrust with he crown?”

“no, my lord, it is quite the opposite” you had shook you head, “my uncle has usurped the iron throne, naming himself King Aegon II, I have only come to show the north the crown lies with the rightful heir, my mother”

He had nodded, “then I must ask if it is war you ask of us, princess”

“for know all I ask is your loyalty, we do not crave war, but if it comes to it we ask for the north support” you had remembered then that your mother had given you a script, she knew of your nerves, how you often stuttered, something that had never happened with Cregan, despite it being common even when you were only surrounded by family.

“you have my loyalty, but o shall need terms if it is war that is to come” you had nodded, kindly, agreeing.

Politics had never been an interest of yours, and yet the hours on hours you had spent talking treaties and alliances, not once did you wish to leave, in fact it seemed both of you had dragged it on for as long as you could, neither wanting to leave the others company.

You had accompanied each others every meal, even if no words were spoken, and only kind looks exchanged.

You had felt the warmth and welcoming feeling you lacked at first, and you had hoped that after your return to Dragonstone and the declaration of your betrothal with Cregan, the feeling would stay.

And despite a part of you wanting to feel cold and alone in the north, you had not once felt that way, and as Cregan looked at you now you realised that Winterfell had felt like home ever since you had first arrived, and the only coldness you raved was the one you felt in your heart, the one that you feared Cregan would melt.

 “that’s not true” you sad softly, replying to his statement on the lords agreeing with his decision to wait to marry. “it will be near to a year since my arrival soon enough, my brother even writes that we soon must wed” you moved towards him now, you bodies now only a breath away from each other “I…as much as I miss them, I must move on with life and we must marry” you spoke it sternly, why the realisation of you sisters being happy and content made you want to move on was unclear, you knew you would never stop mourning them, but you didn’t want to mourn what could have been with Cregan.

You had liked him so much at first, always blushing in his presence, even more so once Jace had noticed and pushed the two of you together, though you had both used him as a shield to your fancy of the other, making things turn even shyer between the two of you.

You had been happy with he match, and so had he, with shy smiles and longing in your gazes as the news was announced.

You wanted to marry him, not just for duty, and not just to sate your old self, but as Cregan smiled at you, gaze deep with care, you realised that perhaps the only happiness you would find would be with him.

He nodded, “sara spoke to you?” you nodded “ah, very well, but only if you are sure.

You smiled, reaching for his hand, “I need to marry you Cregan, it is my duty” you saw a slight drop in his smile at the word duty, so you continued, “as well as my desire”, his gaze grew heated, a heat you were a stranger too.

“very well, I will not deny my own…desire to marry you, princess, I have long admired you” he coughed awkwardly “it was me who asked your mother for your hand, after all”

You gasped slightly, “really? I had no idea.”

He laughed softly, “Of course, I had hoped my intentions were clear during our stay at Winterfell, I never left you alone”

“I never would have thought-“

“you have encompassed my every thought since I first laid eyes on you” he caressed your hand in his as his tone turned serious, “seeing you in pain these past months, has caused me agony, I am glad you wish to wed me soon, and I can only hope this is the start to the end of your tournament”

“I believe that marrying you is the only way I will be able to end it” you confided in him.

You had had nightmares non stop, your memories on repeat. Fire and blood, your house words and yet they were the very thing that brought you torment. The faces of your brothers, Jace and Luke lying dead at the bottom of the sea. Of Joffrey being torn to shreds, your mother burning. And of Viserys, sweet Viserys she dreamt of him to be alive, only to return home in anger at being abandoned by her and Aegon. The thought had filled her with dread. And fear for Aegon had the same dreams, and dreams like those were said to come true in your family. Your torment was of what had already happened, and the knowledge you could never change it, so the sudden need to pull yourself from the endless misery all from Cregan kneeling before the hearts tree confused you apart of you wondered if Cregan had been praying for your happiness for you torment to find a release, and the gods had answered.

You hoped they had, for you had no nightmares, only dreamless sleep after the day in the gods woods.

You had started to dine with Cregan for dinner, and Sara to break your fast.

Though your rooms were still the place you stuck to, Cregan’s and Saras demands for you to leave your chambers were answered, with walks and hours spent in the library or gods woods.

All as going well for you, until a letter from Aegon came.

Viserys was alive.

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[thewolvesofthenorth]

Prologue

Prologue to Man of Honor

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ House Of The Dragon Masterlist

Rating: 18+ Word Count: 400+ Summary: How were you to know that words spoken as children would one day come back to haunt you? Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, fluff, slow burn A/N: Coming back from a three year hiatus to start a new series, and hopefully finish the other ones, so please bear with me!

Next Chapter ⟹

Snow.

It covered everything as far as the eye could see.

From East to West, and North to South, it blanketed the whole of the land as far as the eye could see. You were used to the familiar bite of the cold. You were always strange and had basked in the way the crisp air tickled your nose and turned even the warmest of fires into a dwindling warmth. You were a true Northerner, born and bred in the vast lands of white, and no stranger to the unforgiving winds of winter. You were never one to shy away from a challenge, often times seeking one out and getting yourself into trouble along the way.

However, you were never alone in your endeavors. You were always accompanied in your ventures by your best friend, Cregan Stark.

You and Cregan had grown up together since you were babies, with Cregan being just a few months older than you. You had been the daughter of his mother’s best friend, and when your mother passed in childbirth, followed shortly after by your father in a hunting accident, the Starks had gladly taken you in and raised you alongside their son. You and Cregan grew up like siblings; you argued like siblings, wrestled like siblings, and confided in each other as only siblings could. At the tender age of ten, you and Cregan had been each other’s first kiss, curiosity pushing the bounds of your innocence. At fourteen, on an especially cold and snowy afternoon, the two of you were quietly sitting beneath the heart tree, and Cregan had spoken so softly that you almost missed it.

“One day, we’ll get married, right here under this tree, and you’ll become the Lady of Winterfell,” he vowed.

Your heart had leap at his words, and you had pulled him in for an embrace and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“You promise?” You asked.

“I swear it, by the old gods, and the new.”

That day you had realized that your feelings for Cregan had changed.

You no longer felt the love one would have for a sibling. 

No, this was something else entirely, something more.

At least for you.

How were you supposed to know that those feelings, and his words, would take you both down a path that neither of you knew how to navigate?

Next Chapter ⟹

[satubby]

[Once upon a dream: When I loved you]

[Once upon a dream, where I saw you sleeping in my arms, I'm starting to forget what loneliness is, my beautiful human baby... Child of man, is this what you call love? If so, I'm afraid of losing you and this feeling. —Malleus Draconia ]

Disclamer: I was listening to my usual music and I don't know why but YouTube recommended old songs that I gave a like to, so among them was One Upon a Dream, which led me to rewatch the 2014 Live Action based on Maleficent. and from there to doing this, anyway I'm sorry if there are spelling mistakes and as such I'm sorry if the characters in Diasomnia look like those in Oc I haven't played in a long time and I left the fandom due to lack of time and interest.

[This writing will have 2 parts, the second I will be thinking about how to do it and if it will have Lana del Rey's song, this time I put Cinderella's song, I'm sorry lol!]

It was a rainy night, a woman escaped from her pursuers and was carrying her baby in her arms. "Catch that bitch! She deserves to be punished for witchcraft!" 

The strange and mysterious woman ran faster than before when she heard the scream of those guards. How did she end up like this? She wondered, not long ago she was a happy woman, the prince loved her as she loved him, yet his stepmother the dowager empress, discovered her elven blood, which was considered blasphemy. She never asked to be singled out, even her pregnancy was a constant danger. 

From where did it all go wrong? It wasn't her fault or her baby in arms that the human world hates magical beings given how greedy they are, especially noble ones like her stepmother who called her a bastard abomination. 

Arinet, bastard daughter of the duke belonging to the south and daughter of a winter elf, was now nothing more than a heretic cursed and hated for the blood that ran in her veins. And she blamed herself for being foolish to believe that the dowager empress and her own stepmother would not conspire to ruin her romance with the crown prince.

Crying she coos trying to calm you down you in her arms, her precious baby, in tears she gave you one last kiss as she continued to run away from the gunfire coming from the archers and the duke's mages, falling down a through a snowy well, she smiled for the last time and left you hidden from the hunters who followed her, if she died it would not be with you, so she said goodbye crying and with the little strength in her feet, she ran despite her ankle pierced by the tip of the arrow shot before. 

Malleus was walking through the dreary paths of his forest full of thorns and dry trees covered with seasonal snow, it was another dull morning and the old black dragon, prince of fairies and dragons, was bored. When was the last time this forest had anything interesting beyond its creatures fearing him? He doesn't remember, yet his thoughts are broken when he hears a cry, more precisely, the cry of a small human baby, an offspring of man. Then his bare feet on the cold snow traversed like a dance in the snow, walking towards you he approached your basket, taking you from it curiously but awkwardly, whoever put you there did not measure the coldness of his forest, he was unaffected given his nature and body, Malleus was already warm on his own. 

Emerald eyes narrow slightly at the sight of you. He carefully and lightly touches your cheek with one of his sharp nails, accidentally giving you a scratch so he uses his magic to heal it. He've never seen a baby up close before, the ones he saw were many, different and weirder, but you're even more so given that human nature of yours. And him have no idea how to handle the situation. He lifts you up to his eye level... you look pretty upset about being out in the cold and he doesn't blame you for it, even your tender cotton cheeks were ruddy. 

"I wonder... What exactly are you? The humans I know are bigger than you." Malleus mutters under his breath as he looks towards you still trying to be careful. He can sense that you have a special thing, in fact he smells traces of magic on you, but that confuses him even more as to why you, a frail, human little thing of all things... are in the woods in the middle of the cold. 

Curiosity filled his being as he looked at you, you a small being resting in his big arms, sleeping as if he were not the dominant creature in this territory. He was confused. You are a human baby so... small that you could easily be killed by accident, could this little thing be so cute? As far as he knew, humans are ungraceful or so he was told, plus the fact that he has killed some fools daring to enter his lands. He gently used a finger to touch your little nose. So cute you looked! He was also intrigued. Why did they leave you, so small and vulnerable in their forest? And alone, with no one to hold and care for you. You would become food for vultures or some other monster very quickly.

Malleus looked around looking for the human responsible who has left you abandoned, however instead his nose detected a smell of iron and acrid mixed with traces of magic.... It was blood of the child of man, so walking with you, even if clumsily, he cradles you in his arms they go towards the place where the trail was, strangely on the way you didn't cry, in fact, you even fell asleep comfortably.

Normally everyone is afraid of him, although it is normal given his status but that makes him socially awkward and lonely, maybe that's why he unconsciously clung to you. Malleus then arrives at the place where that iron smell came from, finding the corpse of your mother, a beautiful woman but... The old dragon prince notices that she was stabbed several times and until her last minutes of life she fought. In addition there were traces of magic thrown, from elves more specifically although it does not give him so much importance; he bends down and takes a sample of blood, licking it from the snowy ground— This woman had Mana, like you, so he assumed it was your mother as you had the same bracelet as the woman as well as the same smell of that magic.

Malleus stares at the deceased woman with? something like a sad look in his vibrant green eyes. You moan slightly with a groan as you stir, but go back to sleep a few minutes later. Malleus' long tail wags behind him as he thinks, frowning slightly. He looks down at you in his arms, then at the strange looking woman, she has white hair and apparently blue eyes, plus somewhat pointed ears. Malleus knelt down next to her lifeless corpse, carefully analyzing the bracelet, it had elvish letters which read: "The eternal and pure shall remain, the evil and impure must be purged" And honestly he didn't understand what the engraving meant, so he just leaves it there. 

"A human mother and daughter abandoned in the forest.... Who would do such a heartless thing...?" His gaze hardens as he look around the area, trying to find any clues left behind, but there was nothing. He looks closely at the wounds on the body and notices every feature your mother shared with you, from the lips to your beauty, he couldn't help but be distracted from his goal. 

"She died protecting you, little daughter of man.... Now I understand her determination and strength. If I'm honest, she was no ordinary human, too bad that led to her cruel fate." Malleus gently touches your cheek wiping the drool running from your lips, you were still asleep.

There was a mixture of curiosity and a strange sense of melancholy in the eyes of the ancient being. His eyes sparkled as he recognized the faint traces of mana lingering in the air, mixed with the unmistakable scent of mingled human and elven blood, definitely the children of man were hard for the old dragon to comprehend.

"What a waste. A mortal life, snuffed out by the callousness of other humans."

He spoke softly, almost wistfully, his voice tinged with a touch of what seemed like sadness, though he did not understand it. He stood thoughtfully for a moment, then, sighing, he closes his eyes to the woman's corpse and with his green magic breath, casts a living flame that burns away all traces of your dead mother.

"Rest in peace daughter of man and nature, I will take care of your human baby." 

Then he withdraws with you in his arms, he doesn't know much about humans, in fact he hasn't even seen one in 400 years, yet his curiosity and compassion made him act like that [perhaps the fact that you, a small and fragile thing, managed to move something in him beyond indifference and boredom] Then he saw you sleeping, he smiled softly.... What a curious little thing you were.

Upon arriving at his castle, he was greeted by Lilia, his guardian and close friend, as a father figure to Malleus even though he is already an adult in dragon terms.

 Lilia approached smiling and playful, although he noticed the bundle in Malleus' arms, as a father figure and royal advisor, he was curious.... How unusual for his little Malleus. "Oh, I see you brought something interesting from the forest, hehehe, tell me, did lonely little Malleus get bored with himself and decide to bring a little human?" Lilia teased, however Malleus just snorted smiling at his advisor and guardian, still holding you in his arms.

The prince of Briar Valley had chuckled quietly at Lilia's comment as he walked carefully towards him, his expression was calm and the tail dragon wagged back and forth behind Malleus himself, revealing his mood. Lilia always teased him when he was bored with his normal routine.

"Hm, this... 'little human' was abandoned in the forest by her mother, I thought she would surely become dinner for a wandering monster. I was also curious to know what human cubs are like, I see they are fragile to be greedy when they reach adulthood."

Malleus mutters under his breath, his eyes moving quickly to look at the baby again as he sleeps soundly in his arms.

Lilia was really surprised, normally his little Mall showed no interest in anything and was very socially awkward, but here he was hugging you, a small and fragile little thing. Lilia fell from the ceiling of the throne room, like an ingratiating acrobat he sat up and then sighed the veteran fairy, speaking earnestly before his king and pupil. 

"Your Majesty, you know that raising another living being, especially a human, who is different from us in terms of biology and growth, is not easy at all so tell me your highness? Do you really plan to raise that human baby, YOU who barely even know about them, beyond the times they have tried to invade our lands? I really sometimes don't know what you think Mall" Lilia sighed looking seriously at the dragon, Malleus lifted you up in the air looking at you still sleeping, you looked so... soft and tender. You would be a beautiful girl. Mall raised an eyebrow at Lilia for his comments. 

"I am perfectly aware of that, Lilia. A fairy and a human child... a combination that I know very well will take time to understand..... She is more resilient than you think. But I cannot leave this baby alone, she was abandoned by her own mother. Such a cruel fate for an offspring of man." 

His eyes shifted down to look at you as your small body shifted restlessly in his arms, sighing again, he cradles you in his arms once more. Malleus smiles softly.

Lilia sighed again, smiling and shrugging his shoulders surrendering to the blackhaired prince's stubbornness. He then walked over to you to look at you, you were certainly pretty, though as Malleus said, you had magic that was rare in humans, so Lilia asked his king and pupil, "Malleus, tell me something, do you know what it's like to raise a human? The consequences of it are something with variables and they age fast, besides you are sure to do it, from what you told me his mother had magic.... What did she look like, eyes and hair color?" 

The dragon did not understand at first as he was dense at times, but then he understood what she meant, Lilia was asking the race of that human, if she was one and she certainly was not— Your mother was a half elf, a very beautiful one with white hair and blue eyes, perhaps that is why she was killed and in a desperate attempt to protect you both, she ran to her lands seeking to return home. So far he was able to piece together conjectures, his density and disinterest sometimes blinded him.

Malleus thought for a moment, studying your face, trying to find any resemblance you might have to your mother beyond your features but you looked more human. The old dragon prince hummed thoughtfully before finally speaking.

"She... was a half elf if I am correct. Her hair was soft and like a white flake.... Plus her eyes were a beautiful light blue color. But she also had magic, as strong as she may have been, the poor woman was outnumbered and killed for unknown reasons."

He looks towards you who were still sleeping once more as he spoke, his eyes soft as he recalls the memory of the woman.

Lilia analyzes the situation and then asks one more question. "How do you plan to take care of her? Sooner or later she will have to return to her homeland, is that okay with you? You know that the magical races and humans have accomplished nothing together for centuries and their traces of disdain still remain? So, be honest, my dear prince, how long do you plan to keep her here? Surely sooner or later you will get bored."

Lilia saw Malleus' expression, there were many emotions clashing and the veteran fairy smiled, he just needed a little push and Lilia would be sure that his beloved ward would understand the implications of this... What would Malleus do, the ever shy dragon monarch and the one who longs to know human emotions and humans themselves?

Malleus looked conflicted as he listened to Lilia's question. He knew there was tension between the races and he also knew it would be difficult for you to return home after being raised here. But him simply could not allow you to suffer, you were innocent. His green eyes shifted from Lilia to you, a small frown on his face debating his decisions.

"I'm... not entirely sure. If he goes home, I'm worried he'll never fit in with his own people.... And if he stays here, will he have a happy life?"

Lilia smiled and honestly, it wasn't bad that his beloved monarch and prince for once longed to have something, whether he was aware of it or not, that's why Lilia asked such a question. He wanted to see how far his pupil's interest would go. Would it be temporary or could you, a fragile little thing, really awaken something more in the bored and shy prince of thorns? The mere thought excited the former Fae.

Malleus let out a soft sigh as he lifted you closer to his chest, your small face was warm and soft to the touch, that little body fit perfectly like a puzzle piece in his arms. He felt something in his heart that wasn't there before as he looked at you, a strange feeling of responsibility, of protection, maybe even a hint of affection? He wasn't sure, he had never been close to a baby before, let alone a human like you were. 

"I don't want her to suffer the same fate as her mother..."

Lilia clapped his hands and smiled, there was a long way to go. "Very well Your Highness, let's learn about humans and especially about their offspring, breeding and feeding!" 

That afternoon Malleus was educated on what things they should and should not eat, down to the basic necessities. Malleus wrote everything down in his mind and would then apply it even though he still had doubts.

Malleus listened attentively as Lilia explained things, taking detailed notes in his mind of everything he told him. He was a fast learner and quickly remembered every detail. As Lilia spoke, the dragon prince gently ran a finger across your forehead, gently stroking the baby skin with an expression of slight amazement on his face. In a little over a year you will be able to walk, talk and think. Malleus couldn't believe how wonderful humans could be .... Or was it that you were just a unique baby?

And over the next few days Malleus did all sorts of things that no one would think possible coming from his royal highness and mighty dragon, but there he was changing diapers. "No! Be careful, don't you see? You're irritating her skin, though it's rare that she doesn't cry from your rough touch, anyway, look at tying a diaper!" Lilia pushed Malleus aside and changed your clothes, playing a little with you, making you laugh, but this was a simple provocation on the fairy's part, he wanted to see how Malleus would react to this and indeed, the dragon became jealous of his former tutor. 

Lilia turned as he saw Malleus' green eyes glowing, after finishing your change of clothes, he handed you over to the dark prince. "I assure you that you will improve with time and practice as I won't always be here!" 

Malleus watched as Lilia deftly changed your diaper, baby laughter filled the room as the old fae made you laugh. The dragon was a little puzzled to see Lilia do something with such ease, he even felt a little jealous for some reason, as he wanted to make you laugh too, but you just looked at him curiously. He let out a small snort as Lilia handed you over, looking at you and studying your face again, he was still clumsy in grabbing you. 

"TSK! TSK! Look how stiff you are, you should carry her more gently" The fae scolded his monarch and prince who grumbled like a child pouting softly. 

"I'm a fast learner, Lilia. Don't underestimate me..."

Lilia scoffed with laughter, his little Malleus was really cute in his own way [Of course if Lilia wasn't aware of his immense influence and power] At the dragon prince's frown, Lilia playfully apologized and raised his hands in peace. 

"I know, my dear prince, but you must be careful! You wouldn't want the little one to cry, would you? Well, leaving that aside, come to think of it, you haven't given her a name have you, you, do you want to give her one?" Lilia noted this, for several weeks now you had been called 'Child of Man' or 'Little Human' and if the Fae were honest, they can't always call you that, names are important though given Malleus' own obliviousness, he hadn't even noticed until his advisor and former guardian pointed it out to him. 

The fae-dragon sighed, squeezing into his embrace and widening his eyes in confusion when Lilia pointed that out. You would definitely need to be given a name of your own, and they couldn't always call you the man's daughter... or little girl. 

"Hm, I guess you're right... what do humans normally call their children? I don't want to accidentally give it a name that has an unfavorable meaning..."

Malleus was somewhat (perhaps too much) unaware and sometimes his naivety with humans or other races that are not dragons or Faes, are unknown to him (either in customs, ways of acting or physiology). Leaving aside that sometimes he himself prince was carried away by rumors or experiences of his own. "I don't know, but what do you think.... (T/N), sounds nice, means timeless and infinite." Advised the old Fae as Malleus looked at you, you were playing with his fingers sticking them into your mouth.

Malleus hummed curiously as he listened to Lilia's suggestion, raising his hand to gently touch the top of your head, letting you cling to his fingers as he continued to think... the name '(T/N)', sounds good... he thought. Then he looked at you, watching you play innocently with his fingers as you looked at the old dragon.

"(T/N)... (T/N)... yeah, yeah, that sounds pretty good..... (T/N), then."

That day Malleus finally gave you a name, which would be one of the first signs that his curiosity would turn into love and love into obsession.

It had been 5 years, for Malleus this was nothing, as he sometimes has long periods of sleep (of course Lilia would wake him up to avoid sleeping more) Otherwise your growth would be lost and since Malleus loves you too much, the prince of Briar Valley did not want to miss anything about you, that included your growth stages.

"She do grow up fast, I can hardly remember what her was like yesterday!" Lilia complained dramatically but Malleus, who was drinking his tea, put down his cup and smiled softly as he watched you play in the garden. From large your beauty was remarkable, unbeknownst to you, you made more than just the barren thorn garden bloom in his heart. 

Malleus smiled slightly as he watched you play in the garden, admiring the way you made the normally withered and barren garden come alive with your presence. He had certainly grown fonder of you over the past few years, watching you grow and learn new things always made him smile. He looked at Lilia with a loving smile on his face.

"In fact, Lilia... it seems like only yesterday that I found her in the forest... now she's growing with each passing day."

Lilia put his hands under his chin, watching you play and make wreaths, it's been a while since Briar Valley had this warm and colorful atmosphere. "Don't you think humans are kind of interesting and chaotic? By the way, our little girl will soon be 6 years old, what do you plan to do? The past years you gave her many a gift, but oh my little Mall! Remember that unicorn you gave her didn't even last because your jealousy won the battle?, poor creature, they ran as soon as you came angry at them" He chuckled, in the end Malleus was attached to his dragon nature more than his Fae half, as much as this one wanted to deny it. 

The prince of Briar Valley let out a small snort at the memory. He had indeed become jealous of the unicorn, and it wasn't the only time either.... Every time you got a new toy or friend from the animal world, he got so possessive that he couldn't help it. He sighed. silently as he thought for a moment before responding....

"Hm, I'm actually very aware of my little human birthday... like you said though, this time I want to do something special for her, but I have no idea what to give her."

The old fae laughed and responded with another question to the dragon prince's confusion. "And what do you think you can give him this time? It can't be something living or something non-living, since you get jealous over anything, like the time you 'accidentally' burned one of her favorite toys with your fire because it took her attention away from you." Lilia fiddled with the fork and Malleus coughed his tea, avoiding looking at the fae who teased him about his extreme behaviors. 

Since he was just processing centuries of emotional numbness and you were the one who awakened those experiences and emotions in him, it was difficult for him not to go to such extremes. 

The black-haired man snorted at Lilia's words as he looked away. It was true that he was extremely possessive of you and would get jealous of anything that caught your attention.... But he couldn't help it. The dragon sighed softly and closed his eyes, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment about a solution to this.

"Hm... How about... a new toy, but only she can touch it? Sounds like a good solution, doesn't it?" Malleus asked thinking it would be ideal but Lilia made a face almost as if to say 'Are you seriously thinking about that?' and answers him with another question.

"How are you sure you're not going to burn it or destroy it? It's funny to a point that you destroy his stuff out of jealousy, but (T/N) he doesn't find it funny. I have an idea! How about you take it to the meadow mmm? Flowers are beautiful and safe, you can't get jealous if they are symbols of love. You know, you always keep her cooped up here, the royal garden is beautiful and the castle too, but remember, kids are curious and like to explore, you used to do that when you were a little lizard." 

Malleus sighed, shaking his head and ignoring the ramblings of Lilia who boasted about how beautiful and tender the dragon prince was before he grew up. On the other hand, you approached towards them smiling and showing a butterfly in your hand.

 "Tsunotarou, look how pretty them is; although their wing was broken, but I repaired it!" You laughed, peeking out from the table with your small stature. Malleus looked at you smiling anyway and lifting you in his hands, you were just as small as when you were a baby but you were growing faster than expected. Either that, or it was just his abnormal perception of time. 

The Fae-dragon looked at you, his bright emerald eyes shining with pride as you showed him the butterfly. He couldn't help but smile broadly when he saw your enthusiasm and laughter. He always loved the way you looked when you were happy.

"Hm, it looks quite beautiful. You did a good job with the wing, it broke before..." He says complimenting your little acts of love for others though a bit jealous of that butterfly. He then lifts you up in his arms, hugging you like he does all the time. The dragon loved you as much as you loved him.

Lilia laughs internally, his enigmatic gaze analyzing the situation, only in time would Malleus accept his possessive and territorial side, Lilia would be sure to witness it. "Aww~ our princess is a saintess!" Lilia teased in her cheesy tone, then pressed her lips together mockingly as if she wanted to give you a duck kiss, you on the other hand laughed avoiding his lips as he began to chase you away from Prince Briar's embrace. Malleus looked at you and smiled though the vein in his forehead and neck said something more than simple elegance, jealousy, raw as poisonous. 

́Maybe I should break his neck and cut his legs off? ́ thought the Fae Dragon, but he restrained himself from those possessive and murderous fantasies, on the other hand Lilia felt a look on the back of his neck imagining that his pupil and monarch It was almost drilling his head (figuratively), in a way it was funny. 

 "AH!!! yuck, I don't want your kisses uncle Lilia, they're slimy and I hate it when you pinch my cheeks!" You exclaim, snapping Malleus out of his thoughts as Lilia caught you and you tried to push him away while laughing.

"Come on, just one little kiss! And can you blame me? You're so cute" The old fae squeezed you in his arms. Malleus felt a small twinge of discomfort in his chest as he watched Lilia try to give you a kiss, the dragon fae clenched his jaw slightly and his fists clenched into fists of fury.

"Lilia... Fuck!"

He muttered under his breath, looking at the two of them and keeping his feelings under control. Malleus again refused, it wasn't right to be jealous, he wouldn't give his advisor the pleasure of seeing him in such a state let alone losing control. 

So he represses his emotions once again, causing Lilia to look at him out of the corner of her eye and sighs, releasing you from his arms. "How boring you are! Well, anyway, I have to go, I need to check the barrier on the moor, what was it...like 200 years ago? Yeah, I haven't seen the state of it in 200 years.... I'm off then, have fun my children, bye bye bye!" Lilia smiled saying goodbye as the door closed, you on the other hand walked up to Malleus taking his hand.

"Tsunotarou... Were you upset? You know Uncle Lilia is like that, by the way I made you this crown! I hope you like it" Malleus looked sideways at you and blushed, coughing in embarrassment at your tenderness, he bent down to your height so you could put it on his head. The rose wreath, although twisted by its awkward horns, was still beautiful to look at. However, it was cute to see how your delicate little hands went out of their way to give him such a gift.

Malleus looked at you, his mood changing almost immediately as he saw your expression. He couldn't help the laughter that came from his pale but beautiful lips as he watched you try to put the crown on his head, but fail miserably as his horns got in the way of said task. He chuckled softly as he gently took the crown and put it on perfectly as he bent down and ruffled your hair.

"Thank you, he's lovely, as always... I won't get mad at Lilia, he's like that with everyone, but promise me you won't leave room for his jokes ok?"

"Yep! I won't let uncle bully me with his jokes anymore" You laughed once more, clapping your hands and with innocent grace, you hugged his neck giving him a kiss on his pale cheeks making Malleus blush once more that you would almost swear steam was coming out of his ears. So much so that his emotions affected the atmosphere of the whole valley, you saw how the gardens grew more roses and out of nowhere butterflies or birds appeared. 

Because of your innocence, you were frightened to see him so red, thinking you had done something wrong. "Tsunotarou is red because of me, now he has a fever!" You began to cry with worry in your girlish eyes, as you noticed earlier how hot he had become because of your actions, but you didn't know what triggered that.

Malleus looked surprised, his eyes widened at your innocent and adorable way of looking at the situation. He let out a small scoff and chuckled under his breath, he always forgot how innocently cute you were and how your naive personality embarrassed him most of the time.

"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong, it's okay...I'm fine, you're just too cute and beautiful my precious princess" He said softly as he stroked your back, trying to calm your crying as he blushed a little from embarrassment.

"Eh? ... Then why are you red? If you don't have a fever, maybe it's another illness? I don't want you to be sick, Tsunotarou!" You were still sad and worried but you weren't crying so much anymore, much to her relief. 

Malleus sighed, lifting you up in his arms and sitting you on his lap, then wiped away the excess tears by kissing your chubby little girl cheeks pulling them as a game and a little reprimand.

"That hurts, a lot Tsunotarou."

He smiled at your innocence and how you so quickly assumed he was sick because of his red face, he was a little amused that you couldn't see the underlying reason he was embarrassed rather than sick. A small chuckle escaped his pale lips when you complained at how hard he pulled on your cheeks, then he sat you on his lap as he stroked your head talking softly. 

"No, no, I'm not sick... it's much simpler than that, little girl."

The prince/monarch smiled at you once again saying how tender and beautiful you were in his eyes and that's why he was embarrassed when you did such tender acts.

"Am I pretty? But Sebek says I smell like a dirty human, but I don't know what that is. He always criticizes me, the other time he scolded me for accidentally knocking down one of your paintings in the office, he also says humans are ugly, does that mean I'm ugly and stinky?" your tender and gullible eyes made Malleus swallow bile, mostly because of what you were telling him, sometimes your tenderness and naivety reminded him of himself. 'Sebelk, that idiot' he thought to himself, cursing his loyal friend and self-proclaimed knight, though to Malleus Sebek was an annoying zealot.

The prince of Briar Valley shook his head and sighed softly. Yes, Sebek tended to say things he shouldn't say in front of you. And yes, he was also an absolute fanatic who was too loyal to him, sometimes not even liking his attitude because of how loud and restless he got. 

"No, you're not ugly, you're beautiful... in fact, you're the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen in my life... and ignore what Sebek says, because he's a brat who talks too much..."

And speaking of the devil, he will come! Sebek knocked on the door, although it didn't do much good as he ended up whipping it anyway, mostly to warn of his presence.

"MALLEUS-SAMA!!!" Both you and the aforementioned covered your ears at Sebek's cries and his following praise, the Prince of Thorns had to silence him before he gave any more speech about how he is the most perfect among dragons that ever lived.

"Ahem! As I was saying I brought breakfast because honestly Lilia-sama is horrible at cooking, and I also wanted to tell you that Silver will be away for a week and is still dealing with the demons in the troll pit." After that introduction, Sebek served everything with grace and- Perhaps too much perfection; even Malleus was sweating with embarrassment from his eyes with imaginary stars staring at him, sometimes Sebek was too overwhelming.

Sighing as he looked at Sebek and rolling his eyes at the green haired dragon's strong presence, the half-dragon fae let out a small snort as he listened to the strong praise and watched how hard Sebek tried to please him as he fed him breakfast. As he watched Sebek kneel on the ground after finishing with the table and the plates with food, Mall let out a small scoff.

"Very well, thank you, Sebek... you may go, I'm sure Silver will need help handling the demons in the pit..." He said, trying to get rid of him so that he would stop being too overwhelming; and be able to continue chatting with you without the stalker-like vigilance of the green-haired one. 

"Your highness... You're telling me you don't want me here? WHAT AN HONOR TO HAVE YOUR DISGUSTING TOWARDS ME, MALLEUS-SAMA!! YOU CAN EVEN TREAD ON ME IF YOU WANT, I WOULD LOVE TO BE YOUR RUG FOR WHATEVER—" The Green-haired's cries of adoration ceased as Malleus swung his black claw and pulled him out of the garden and into the castle hallway. Still, the young dragon's cries could be heard. You laughed so hard at Sebek's own witticisms that the black-haired fae's bad mood was relieved.

"Sebek is funny, even though he's always nagging me..." You pout as Malleus smiles at you burying his face in your baby neck.

He sighs again as he hears Sebek's ramblings and praise in the background, letting out a small scoff. He chuckled under his breath when he heard you laugh, nodded and agreed with you.

"I know, he's a jerk... but at least he's a loyal jerk, I guess..." Whispered the fae as he wrapped his arms around you once more, burying his head in your small shoulder, enjoying your scent that reminded him of fresh roses.

Days later Malleus took you flying through the forest as it was like your birthday present, as you laughed in his arms, the first spring breeze hit your delicate face, Malleus spread his draconic wings taking you even higher in the air to enjoy the view without actually stepping on solid ground. He won't admit it but he doesn't want something else to catch your attention and make you want to go out more often. Your hands caress a cloud and the black-haired man sees you laugh which makes him happy. 

 "This is the best birthday ever!!!! Thank you Tsunotarou" Your eyes looked at him and at that moment it was just the two of you, something in Malleus started to resonate it was like a: 'Badump! Badump!' ...It was the beating of his heart that echoed in his ears, for the first time he knew what that was, the feeling longed for millennia and jealous of those who could feel it and experience it but now he finally felt it. You were the reason? He wondered, but at that moment he didn't care, he just closed his eyes letting himself go while holding you in his arms.

Malleus watched you with a fond smile on his face as he saw the way your eyes sparkled when the breeze hit your face, happily observing how you were thrilled by small things like clouds. He chuckled softly as he watched you laugh at the simple joy of being in heaven....

"Of course, of course... Anything for my little daughter of man..."

His eyes closed as he embraced you, feeling the gentle beat of his heart flutter in his chest, his heart beating for the first time in centuries like butterflies in full spring. 

This moment was precious and although Malleus is not normally greedy, with you it is another case, he wants to have you and make you happy just like you do with your simplicity and innocence, his beautiful sleeping beauty.... The tulip in his garden of thorns.

"Tsunotarou! Look there— Is that me!!!? Woah, what a beautiful garden" Malleus smiled again seeing you excited, this is the special gift for you, in this forest there is a beautiful portrait made with so many flowers of so many colors and froms the air you can see it. So he wanted you to see how much he would give and do for you, for your smile and the feelings you make him feel, for what you are and represent in his life. 

He tilted his head to look at the portrait of the flowering garden in question, a small smile on his face as he watched the colors come together and form a beautiful image from above. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he listened to you speak, his ears twitching at the way you seemed to be getting more and more excited.

"It's beautiful... Do you want me to take you and take a closer look at it, little one?" he said, flying a little lower now so he could take you there and let you see the flowers up close.

You both descended and immediately ran through the fields of flowers, like a princess in his eyes, the prince and wizard Fae-Dragon, moved his hands making your dress turn white as snow and floral decorations grew from it, then he made you float. and dance in the air as you laughed.

"LOUDER!!! YAY! WHAT FUN" The prince of Briar Valley continued to wiggle his fingers and watched you float away, then he pulled you close to his face and their noses touched, the magic was removed and with a kiss on your forehead, you fell asleep. Malleus had long since ceased to feel alone, much less hated and feared, only loved by the simplicity of a human, his human.

At the end of your birthday, the prince of thorns tucked you into your bed and before you went to sleep, you gave a thank you. "Thank you for everything Tsunotarou.... Good night." 

Your smile faded as you slept, Malleus Sighed, leaving the room and walking to his own, the cold corridors smelled of wet earth and nature, his footsteps echoed against the aged stone until he reached the black door. The creaking reminded him of the years that passed and he never aged, his physical age stopped at his seventeen years. Upon entering, Malleus removed his clothes and then sank his body into the soft feather bed, his green eyes wandering to a shelf; There were all those gifts that to others are cheap trinkets made by the innocent hand of a girl like you, but to the Dragon Fae it was more than that, it felt special to receive them from the one he loved.

Malleus sat on the end of his bed for a second, his thoughts wandering as he looked at the items on the shelf. He couldn't help but feel warmth and happiness in his chest as he looked at the little trinkets... it brought a small smile to his face as he thought about how much happiness you brought him....

He lay fully back on the bed, resting his head on the pillows and pulling the covers over his shoulders, closing his eyes and letting the dreams take him soon....

And who knew that that nap of his would make the future of both of them turbulent, because Malleus fell into another one of his hibernations, besides, without anyone to wake him up with anti-sleep magic, he wouldn't be there for you. Lilia, Silver and Sebek would take a maximum of 4 months to return, the vast territory of the royal family of dragons and fairies had to be constantly supervised by many nobles and among them were the three close to Malleus. 

After waking up, you went to look for him and excited, you opened his door running towards him and climbed into his soft, padded bed but Malleus was still asleep, even so you decided to move and pull his cheeks, talk to him or yell at him. but nothing happens, he still does not respond.

"Tsunotarou? Come on it's already daytime! it's not funny.... Ugh! Don't scare me, come on, wake up already! You're going to make me mad... Humm!" You started to hit him on the cheeks, You even lifted his eyelids but as soon as you removed your fingers they closed again and still it didn't work and you couldn't use your magic since it only worked on plants and to heal wounds. "I have another idea! I'll look for uncle Lilia, he might wake you up" Jumping out of bed you leave the royal room and head to your own, preparing your backpack to go in search of the old fae.

It was your first time out of the castle, you were scared and the monsters terrify you, but as Uncle Lilia once said, "Never forget to be protected, if you wear a dragon scale, no monster or weirdo will attack you given our essence! So don't forget to take one, even Mall would be happy to give it to you". And that's what you did, as Malleus wouldn't wake up even if you removed a black scale from his tail, so you would use it as a toll and scare the monsters away.

A while after walking, you ended up lost. Since you have never left the castle unless Malleus or another fae (except Silver, from what Sebek said, he is a human like you.) guides you, you would get lost on your own and that happened. Now you didn't know where to go.

"Phew, wasn't this the way? Maybe I should go back, but... Why are there three paths? I don't know anymore! I'm lost!". You cried in frustration and continue walking, if Malleus would complain about anything, it's your pride and stubbornness.

It wasn't long after you left the castle that you still couldn't find the right path. Unfortunately, without high-ranking magic, you were doomed from the start to get lost if this happened, especially since Malleus would normally be guiding you.

The dark wood were mostly silent, a few crickets chirping could be heard. Even your footsteps echoed and you didn't even want to think about other unknown sounds because it made you nervous and afraid. But the sounds of the crickets soon faded away, leaving you in silence as the sound of rustling leaves added to the sound of your beautiful magical sandals made of flowers and wood. Suddenly, a soft glow caught your attention.

You had reached the end of the forest and the sun was about to set, you were apparently in a part where the barrier of magical flowers and thorns was weaker, you also had the scale of Malleus in your possession, so when you followed the path fleeing from the darkness; the thorns and bushes parted, allowing you to pass as you sensed the magic in that scale inside your bag. The fresh air greeted you, you smiled believing that you would return to the castle but it was not so, as you barely took a few steps, a carriage passed by you and the person stopped to look at you, it was a humble peasant. 

"Umm hey little girl, what are you doing on this side of the road? You don't know it, but there are ugly monsters roaming around."

"I don't know sir, but who are you and what are your names? I'm (T/N) and I'm looking for my uncle Lilia, I must wake up Tsunotarou or else he will sleep too much, so he won't be able to play with me" Facing your naivety, the farmer smiles and invites you to come up. 

Since Lilia never explained to you about the dangers outside (thinking that because of Malleus' obsession with you, it would be impossible to escape) you continued talking to these strangers.

The farmer, as well as the person sitting in front with the horses, were both older adults, who were quite surprised to see a young girl like you wandering through the dark and dangerous forest with no parents or other people in sight, just you and the forest behind you.

They both see that you were hungry and tired, the farmer felt bad for you, nodding and smiling as they brought out some stale bread and water to let you eat something. The person in the wagon with the horses watched you intently. In the end you end up going out with them, not knowing that your innocence would bring chaos and that the carelessness of some would make many pay, even death will be a mercy rather than delayed suffering. 

And so 4 months had passed, in that time the 2 faes and Silver returned from their duties, when they entered they were surprised to see the palace so... silent.

 "Lilia-sama, I can't find the rambunctious human, I already searched every floor for her but there's no trace" Sebek said in alarm when even Lilia couldn't find you either. 

Silver then cried out in surprise and somewhat worried, Malleus was in a state of hibernation earlier than expected, as normally dragons sleep 100 years but since he is half fairy, this time is maximum 50 years and it also depends on Malleus himself.

"No way, damn it, what are we going to do? Hurry Silver, go and get some chains, I need to wake him up but we mustn't just blurt out the news, Sebek gather everyone you can and look for her!" Lilia ordered as she bit his fingers cursing his luck. Once Silver finished binding Malleus, the old Fae put spells on the chains to at least hold some of the strength the Fae dragon prince possesses. In the end Malleus awoke with magic and the anti-sleep potion.

Malleus, dazed, opened his eyes after being suddenly awakened from his sleep, his senses immediately sought your presence again. The first thing he felt were the chains and spells on him, which irritated him, and as soon as he saw Lilia, his senses went on guard.

"Lilia...! What are all those chains and where did she go (Y/N)" His voice was soft but demanding, his cold, sharp eyes looked at the old Fae in front of him. 

"First calm down Malleus, you are not in your five senses, I didn't think it would come to this but there was a mistake and we miscalculated your hibernation, so we left and 4 months passed. And sorry to tell you but (Y/N) is not here. I think she went out to look for me, from what the few creatures who saw her told me, I only know for sure that she left the magical forest and Briar Valley, heading for the human world, in that case we can't track her and the only one who can is Silver, so I sent him to look for her.. " 

Malleus listened to him in silence, his calm and gentle expression slowly twisting into something much darker as he took in what Lilia was saying in his mind.

"You mean to tell me that you all left the castle without waking me up or leaving someone to take care of her?" The Raven-haired fae's voice was cold, his usually calm tone now filled with silent anger about to explode as he stared at Lilia for a second.

"Didn't any of you think that leaving a young woman home alone would end up with something like this.."

Lilia sighed just as frustrated, his cheerful and youthful demeanor left behind by his deadly and bitter self. "Look Malleus, I couldn't calculate the variables, you were supposed to hibernate until February but it was earlier than planned, I think the anti-sleep potion affects something in your hibernation states." 

Lilia rubbed his nose septum in frustration. Malleus might have looked calm but his vacant stare and his vibrant emerald eyes with shrunken slits, said otherwise, he was overthinking everything. 

"Can't you calculate the variables? I'm sure you have more than experience in dealing with issues revolving around me. You should know that this was a situation that had the possibility of happening, Lilia!"

Malleus' tone darkened with anger, he was beginning to blame Lilia even though he knew it wasn't entirely her fault, knowing that it is also his for constantly manipulating his sleep states making himself more unpredictable when it came to hibernating. 

"She's going to be lost in a world that is cruel and uncaring... Who knows what has already happened in the last 4 months?"

Unfortunately for everyone and especially for Sebek, who interrupted them, receiving almost lethal green fire from Malleus narrowly burning the green-haired Fae but resulting in the burned wall and a prince who was still raging almost eager to release his dragon form, but Sebek caught their attention.

"Can you listen to me for a moment? As I said, I went to investigate and proudly I can say that this is the only thing he left..... I'm sorry Malleus-sama and Lilia-sama" Sebek bowed showing pieces of the torn dress the prince of Briar Valley had given you, and that infuriated Malleus more and from that anger he went to raw but horrible sadness, a silent one because the words got stuck in his throat and tears fell from his beautiful emeralds for eyes.

Malleus stared at the torn pieces of your dress, his eyes widening as the reality of the situation slowly hit him. A small trembling of his hand became noticeable, as his fists clenched tightly to where it hurt, his nails slowly digging into his own skin and drawing blood as he reared up savagely towards the Raven-haired fae taking the piece of cloth from him. 

"No... She is still out there, we must look for her, I must— I MUST LOOK FOR HER!! Ah..., Sorry for that, please leave a time me alone."

His voice came out as a halting whisper, as he slowly closed his eyes... taking in what had just happened; the reality of what he had lost, the reality that he had lost you... of all things, losing you to him and his draconic heart was very devastating.

Lilia said nothing at the scene of his beloved ward and prince/monarch, so both Sebek and he let his process it all and so for a few days Malleus locked himself in his room without coming out, falling back into an abyss of loneliness and silent rage.

In the days that followed your disappearance, Malleus mourned your absence, spending his days trapped in his room, talking to no one if he could help it and only looking at the pieces of your dress... the only thing he had left of you or your scent. 

The fae dragon spent most of his time pacing his room or sobbing on his bed sheets, crying his eyes out and hating himself for how he had handled things when he could have avoided them.

Mmmmmm

Mmmmmm

So this was love

Mmmmmm

So this was love

So this was what made life divine

I was glowing, mmmmmm

And now I know

And now I know

The key to all heaven was mine

My heart had wings, mmmmmm

And I could fly

I touched every star in the sky, but no more

So this was my miracle?

That I've been dreaming, that I've lost

Mmmmmm

Mmmmmm

So this was love, but I won't feel anything, anymore

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 15

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 14, Part 16

Mental health was really important, especially for someone like you whose will to live changed faster than a pendulum. A strong will to live without an actual reason made you swing wildly from suicidal thoughts to a death grip on life.

So even though logically it wasn't a good idea to visit the Dragon-Queller tree as Shenhe was still lurking around, and she was by far the most dangerous thing to your physical health, your mental health was taking priority after the clusterfuck of events that you just went through.

Staring out at the stretch of land required to reach the landmark, you cringe at the thought of the stamina needed to glide that far. It would be safer to glide in chunks for proper rest and control. It doesn’t take long for you to spot a small mountain below with a leaf puzzle.

With a shaky breath; you jump off the cliff and glide to the lower landing spot. The wind caressed your exposed skin, causing goosebumps to appear in response.

You feel Zhongli's prayer and emotions enter your body. In petty retaliation, you reject his offering and ignore the persistent prayers. It becomes background noise as the landing spot comes closer. In spite of the short duration, the journey seemed to go well until it was time to land.

Your feet skid across the rocks as the wind continues to push you. In a panic, you grab the leaf puzzle uncaring how the sharp edges cut your hands. The glider folds back into itself making you breathe a sigh of relief.

Your blood stains the green of the puzzles as you move your hand to hold the stem of the mechanic. A faint smear of blood covers it as you search for your next landing spot.

To your right, you can see a Hilichurl camp, the same one you used to escape from Shenhe. The Hilichurl camp on your left and directly below you were empty. It seems Shenhe didn't stop at exterminating just one Hilichurl camp, which was definitely not a good sign for you. If you glide here there's a large chance she'll spot you. And if she does, you'll be vulnerable to any attacks.

Deciding to climb down and travel on foot, you move down to grab the minor grooves of the rock. Suddenly, a sense of dread overwhelms you, almost completely identical to the one you felt when Yae was watching you in Inazuma.

Instincts honed from years spent surviving dangerous situations kicked into full drive. Scaling down the small mountain, your feet and hands groped the stone in search of any spots to grasp onto. Rocks and pebbles scrape your skin from your rush and anxiety grips your heart. More than once your limbs will slip and you're left dangling for a few seconds.

Finally, you land on the ground and roll to balance the force, avoiding any serious injuries. Worry quickly begins to settle into your bones at the lack of hiding spots. In a last-ditch effort to conceal yourself, you climb up the nearby tree, painfully aware of how the leaves will shake loudly and offer little protection.

To your surprise, there's no sound when your body shakes the tree, and the tree shifts to cover you more. Teyvat really couldn't make their affection for you any more obvious. That relief is cut short when the temperature starts to drop suddenly.

From your spot, you can see ice creep out of the Hilichurl's main building. It cracks and creaks with every inch of it being consumed by that frosty snow. Shenhe had to be in there and although you may be hiding, just how good would it actually be? She's an Adepti disciple, and Celestia knows what tricks she may have in store.

Her heels click with every step onto the clear ice, blood, and dirt covering the exposed spots of her body. The stab wound you gave her has slowed down into a minor stream of blood as she chews on medicinal herbs.

A large and deep wound you gave her healed so much in such a short amount of time. It's laughable. An injury like that would have left you decommissioned for a week at least, yet she's able to walk with no problem. Was this due to Teyvat and its vast magical properties, or just Shenhe's natural constitution?

Staying still and quiet, you continue watching Shenhe who walks down the Hilichurl stairs before crouching to the ground. Those empty iridescent eyes glow as she touches the ground as if trying to find something.

Frowning, you try to guess what she could be looking for. A certain herb? Something she dropped? Maybe a sigil? It's only when she looks at the barely lit brazier and the electro crystals on the side that you realize what she's doing.

Elemental sight!

All vision holders and those with sensitivity to elements can use it. That must include you since you're connected so heavily to Teyvat, but would that mean you're basically a walking ball of raw elemental energy?

Now nervous you watch Shenhe look in your direction and walk closer while staring at the ground. Shit, you must've left a trail all this time unknowingly. The only thing that can erase a trail is other elemental energy covering it up and it didn't look to be raining anytime soon.

Crossing your fingers; you yell internally to Teyvat to cover up your trail and hide your presence as fast as possible, praying that it would work. But there's no hindrance in Shenhe's slow progress to your location. What could be causing this? Teyvat wouldn't deny you unless it's something out of your control.

Forcibly calming yourself, you settle down to review anything you or Teyvat could be doing that's using elemental energy. This allowed for something that you were content to ignore, to spring up on you again.

A rush of dizzyingly love and admiration clouded your head as something darker in nature nipped at the back of your mind. Was Zhongli still praying and sacrificing pieces of himself to you? Was this constant stream of devotion the cause of your trouble?

You couldn't telepathically tell Zhongli to give up or get up to go tell him. Now at a loss on what to do, you stare at Shenhe who is but a mere few steps away from the tree. Something moves in the corner of your eye, making you perk up.

A barely alive Samachurl is killed by a Hydro-infused arrow to its already cracked mask. Not a single sound was heard from the attack. It seems you weren't the only one trying to hide.

If you can't hide something then the next best thing to do is to amplify something else to mask your presence. You order Teyvat to strengthen the presence of whoever is hiding, and watch as Shenhe immediately stands up.

Turning away from your hiding spot, Shenhe takes long strides to the back of the Hilichurl camp. Tilting your head for a better view, you watch as Shenhe uses her Cryo sigils to create a large spike of ice in where you assume was the person hiding.

A mirage-like figure runs out of the way and heads toward Shenhe with Hydro lacing trailing behind them. The figure just barely evades Shenhe's attack and wraps Hydro rope around Shenhe, binding her arms to her sides.

The skill wears off showing Yelan holding the Hydro rope that you recognize as her skill 'Lifeline'. Yelan yanks at the lifeline but Shenhe had already frozen it, causing it to break off. Shenhe begins to charge at Yelan again, making Yelan dodge. From what you can see, their fight against each other seemed to be continuing without a clear winner already.

Using their distracted state, you decide to finish off what had caused this fight. Zhongli's sacrifice comes to mind as the taste of the offering has become sickeningly sweet after all your rejections. The words of acceptance refuse to be spoken aloud in fear of the Wind hearing. Instead, it's kept in your mind where Teyvat can safely perceive your gospel and carry out your commands.

The sky silently grows dim as the shooting stars make their way past. Blood flies off Shenhe's spear as it cuts Yelan's calf. The attack's revenge comes back in the form of water whipping Shenhe's skin, leaving bruises. Neither see the gold shooting star disappear behind the mountain that no doubt entered the temple by the skylight.

The game screen pops up making you skip through it all without properly looking. You still weren't sure whether Zhongli would keep trying to offer you sacrifices. Hasn't he cut off enough body parts by now? The sky returns to its previous blue as the sun drowns out the lingering stars.

The fight comes to a standstill as both women breathe heavily a few feet away from each other. You lost your opportunity to flee due to Zhongli's offering which sucks, but at least you have something to gain here.

"The Traveler was proud to say that the white-haired Adeptus apprentice had learned to control herself. That must have been quite the overstatement."

Yelan's confident smile is shown to be quite the facade judging by the slight tremble in her right ankle. It's already been injured with what looks like a fresh burn mark. From what you remember, she has hereditary physical frailty, making her energy a precious resource. Using her as a diversion must have caused her to nearly overexert herself.

"How do you know the Traveler trespasser? Tell me, who are you to them?" Shenhe becomes more on edge at Yelan's words, and points her spear at Yelan.

"I'm a child of the family that runs the Feiyun Commerce Guild and an acolyte. I'm sure you'll recognize my brother, Xingqiu, as a good friend of your nephew. You know, the young exorcist who shares the same vision as you."

Staring at Yelan who smiles mysteriously at Shenhe's surprised but somewhat annoyed face, you have to try hard to not laugh. Yelan's use of identities was always underwhelming when you never saw her change clothes to match her identities, but this was gold.

Yelan's awful haircut was so similar to Xingqiu's that it was already a running joke that they were related in some way. Adding in the fact that her clothes are Liyuen style for upper-class citizens, her lie of being Xingqiu's sibling is pretty believable. Of course, it would only work on Shenhe who has no idea of the well-known families in Liyue.

It never really made sense that she switched identities so many times in her story quest while not changing her clothes. It's always better to have higher quality identities rather than a huge quantity of them. Especially with such flashy clothing. But maybe you're the hypocrite here considering you're wearing a gold-accented kitsune mask.

"What did you come for then?" Not even doubting Yelan's words, Shenhe merely asks for the archer's reasoning.

"I was sent here on a job for my father." Shenhe nods blankly before turning around to leave. But Yelan is quick to catch up and rests her hand on Shenhe's shoulder. Yelan only smiles at Shenhe's suspicious glare.

"You shouldn't be so quick to leave ya know? Have you never heard of the 'Explain in turn' tradition?" Confusion crosses over Shenhe’s face at Yelan's words and the icy woman turns around fully.

This... This was way too easy, Shenhe didn't even understand the concept of paying for things! Isn't it unfair that Yelan is about to take full advantage of Shenhe's so-called 'pure' child-like mind?

"It means to be honest and explain to the person you asked a question, your own response to the question." So she's gonna confuse her on top of it? "For instance, I answered your question on why I came here therefore you must tell me why you came here."

Shenhe stays silent and still as she stares at Yelan. Until she points to the hilichurl camp.

"I was exterminating the demonic stains that reappeared in Jueyun Karst when a pest attacked me. People come and get hurt while I work all the time but this was a first, that one hurts me so obviously. I'm sure it's another strange custom that I don't care to learn. Perhaps the Traveler can explain when she comes back..."

Shenhe's tone goes from harsh to soft at the mention of the Traveler. You curse the Adepti out in your mind for failing to explain who you were to Shenhe. This whole situation could have been avoided if they had. Sure, you would have still stabbed her, but you could have explained the situation away.

Yelan smiles out of Shenhe's line of sight which makes you worry about what she could be planning. What was her true reason for coming all the way out here?

"What a coincidence, my job involves searching for someone too." Shenhe raises an unamused eyebrow in response as if asking 'So what?' Yelan sighs in what sounds like a mix of exasperation and fondness.

"Someone let loose some geovishap hatchlings in the city. Which means they have some influence over elemental creatures. Did the person you are looking for have a similar attitude?"

The memory of the words you spat at Shenhe comes to mind. Shenhe hasn't forgotten either judging by her expression hardening.

"They said some... strange things. But seeing as they were able to come this deep into Jueyun Karst by themself, they might be the same person."

"Why don't we work together then? You lost them once already." Yelan glances at the wound you left on Shenhe with a condescending smile. "I saw you tracking them earlier, telling me how will be beneficial to you."

She falls silent at the question. It seems Shenhe isn't willing to give it up to Yelan. But if Yelan is as sneaky as she is told to be in the game, she'll find a way to drag it out of the cool disciple.

Yelan's smile drops as she removes her hand from Shenhe's shoulder and circles her slowly. That friendly tone drops into a neutral melody in accordance with Shenhe's coldness.

"Not willing to speak on the matter? Then I suppose we'll work separately. It's just a shame that I won't be able to tell you what happened to Chongyun that day."

You see Yelan make calculated steps in your direction to act like she's leaving, as Shenhe's expression changes at the last words. A Cryo Talisman is whipped out and a Cryo maiden blocks Yelan's path.

The Cryo coats the base of the tree forcing you to cover your mouth in fear of the condensation being visible. Yelan smirks from her spot as Shenhe begins to succumb to her rage.

"Tell me what happened. Tell me everything."

It seems not even the red ropes can contain her violent nature during times like these. You would hate to see how Shenhe would react to you 'hurting' the Traveler, considering her strong connection to them.

Would pulling Shenhe before your sudden migration to Teyvat make this better or worse?

Yelan turns around to face her and makes slow steps to meet Shenhe again. Your feelings toward Yelan have always been a bit muddled due to your similarities to the special intelligence officer. The loss, grief, lying, and use of multiple identities. All the things you shared should have made you love her and dub her your favorite character, but that only worked on paper. Your life couldn't be more different to hers.

A mix of admiration and envy churns within you.

"The Geovishap Hatchlings were loose in the city as the Millelith guards chased them. A few people got hurt and your dear nephew wasn't one to just stand by. From what Xingqui told me, he got roughed up and is still healing."

Shenhe's grip on her weapon loosens and tightens at various moments of Yelan's altered story. As if trying to decide whether hurting Yelan for being the messenger of bad news would be worth it.

"I was tracking down that vexation using elemental sight. They have a rare trace that almost completely blends in with Teyvat's regular and numerous Ley Lines. It's quickly disappearing as well.” She spits out the insult with venom while putting away her weapon.

"An elemental trail that mimics Leylines is something that only appears in mystical beings. It's almost unheard of." Yelan says more to herself as her eyes glow and she examines the ground.

In a few seconds, Yelan closes her eyes and rubs them tiredly. "For whatever reason, I can't seem to pick out any. You may be able to tell the difference due to your connections to the Adepti."

You watch the two women as they talk and idly wonder if you could use elemental sight too. A vision isn't necessarily needed, nor is it a guarantee that one can use elemental sight. So there's no harm in trying, right?

Figuring out how to do it is the real problem.

Several minutes pass before you manage to activate it by simply blinking in rapid succession. The world changes to a grayscale as elemental energy becomes more apparent.

And to your immense relief, you do not have a bright gold trail. In fact, you could only pick yours out due to the fact you felt an instant sense of recognition. But the longer you have it on, the more your head begins to ache.

Turning it off the same way, you clutch your head in hopes of easing the throbbing sensation. This skill was not going to be useful in any regular scenarios. Too little reward for such an easy and large drawback. Storing the information for later use is best.

"If I don't track them down quickly then they might try to attack someone else next. Like the Traveler. Pairing up with you seems to be the only viable option."

Shenhe's voice brings you back to the important conversation that you were supposed to be eavesdropping on. A gleam of curiosity can be seen in Yelan by the slight posture change at the mention of the Traveler. It seems Shenhe's codependency on the Traveler wasn't something only you were interested in.

Staying quiet on the matter, Yelan focuses on her mission or whatever her real motive is. If only you could have avoided entering the Yangshen Teahouse that day. If only Keqing wasn't so damn suspicious of you, you could have politely excused yourself from the scene and avoided drawing Yelan’s attention, or rather bring any more attention to yourself. 

"Then it's settled. You'll track down where they might be and I'll stay here to hold down the fort." You aren't surprised at Yelan's decision to piggyback off Shenhe's work. Her energy must still be recovering after the initial fight with Shenhe.

Shenhe begins to walk back to the spot that she was originally at when tracking you down, making you nervous. Something had to be done. You could take on one and escape, but both of them? You had no chance in hell.

Biting back the groan of frustration at being pushed back to square one, you began to think hard about how to escape. It was times like these that you truly missed hair dye, wigs, and colored contacts.

Unexpectedly, pressure floods your body and the weight settles into your chest comfortably. Feelings of longing and intense yearning make your head spin as the warmth can nearly be tasted. A fever-like haze consumes your consciousness forcing you to rest your head on the tree branch for coolness.

Just what did Zhongli cut off this time to force such a large offering onto you?

Smiling widely, you accept the offering and the opportunity to escape. The sky darkens as shooting stars fill the sky. Now that they aren't fighting, both women look at the sky with curious expressions.

"So it really did happen." Yelan mumbles as she puts away some dice. Shenhe stands up and walks in her direction while keeping her eyes on the dazzling star shower.

"The Creator must be active, the star showers have been happening frequently." Yelan notes as the gold star appears. You don't miss how both women pay close attention to the gold shooting star as it makes its way to the temple hidden behind the mountain.

"That star’s path… The area where it landed has some traces of the nuisance." Shenhe mutters seemingly in a bad mood as the sky lightens up to its natural blue.

"Then let's not waste any more time. It seems they are trying to escape back to Liyue Harbor." Yelan speaks with a hint of annoyance and leaves for the area. Shenhe follows her but not before a whisper is caught by your attentive ears.

"Why not me, your grace?"

So she does feel some strong emotions toward you as the Creator. She had spoken about the Traveler at every turn that you were starting to believe otherwise.

Once you're sure they're far enough, you drop out of the tree with intense relief. With no time to waste, you turn back to the Dragon-queller tree and run.

Canceling this pit stop and teleporting back to the city would be the correct and smart decision. But after all that hiding and work, you were going to see that tree no matter what. The orange leaves above you were witnesses to your stubbornness.

Walking across the small stretch of pink flowers on green grass, you notice patches of blood. Those were probably made during your chase with Shenhe. It makes you think back to her and her reason for hunting you down.

Unlike the majority of the Acolytes before this, Shenhe was going after you in hopes of protecting the Traveler rather than getting revenge for herself. All thanks to Yelan and her lies, unfortunately.

Either way, Shenhe was a huge bother to have, it'd be best to find some way to set her sights on someone else or find a way to deter her. Yet the only thing you can truly use is the traveler. Just why did Shenhe feel so attached to the Traveler in the first place?

Your distracted form leaves the sea of Sandbearer trees and coral flowers to be overshadowed by the Dragon-queller tree. The sun bears down making the orange-yellowish leaves shimmer not unlike the Cor Lapis you've seen before.

Stepping through the puddles of clear water, you continued to gaze up at the landmark with amazement. The winding bark and branches had blue crystalline embedded into them. The glittering of the aqua-colored crystalline was nice, but also subdued compared to the leaves surrounding it. Perhaps it would be better seen in the moonlight?

In any other situation, you would just sit here and enjoy the nice day. Maybe a picnic, or challenging yourself to climb the tree while awaiting the night to see the tree in its full glory.

But you have limited time. Just coming here was a problem on its own.

You stop at the tombstone, or rather stone monolith that reads out a warning to anyone who has gotten this far into Jueyun Karst. It serves as a reminder that there really is a dragon underneath you at this very moment. It shouldn't be surprising after you had literally spoken to Beisht, a goddamn Leviathan. But a thrum of excitement still urged your body to move.

To get closer to the entrance to Azhdaha.

You would need more powerful allies. More elemental creatures that could recognize you like Beisht. Azhdaha is on par with Zhongli, therefore the gnosis won't affect him as it does the Adepti. The only thing you truly had to worry about was the erosion.

All other excuses entered your mind as you crept closer to the entrance. Yet, right as you're about to go around the rocks to see the entrance up close, Teyvat brings the sound of speaking to your ears.

"Those traces were old, that means they must have came over here rather than the other way around." Yelan's smooth voice filters into your ears from the direction of the Sandbearer trees.

Anxiety fuels you to open the map and find a teleport waypoint to escape to. Yet an overwhelming sensation of love, loyalty, and obsession hits you like a truck. It leaves you breathless and gripping onto the tree nearly nauseous from the sickening saccharine.

"They may have gone back to where I first met them, it's through the opening next to the Dragon-Queller tree." Shenhe's stoic voice is accompanied by Yelan's hum in acceptance.

The time you had left was rapidly diminishing. Even if you tried to teleport now, it wouldn't work. It'd be the same scenario as when you first tried to teleport away from Shenhe.

Holding your head in pain from the clash of soft mind-numbing love and bitter possessiveness, you run into the entrance that leads to the Dragon-Queller's basement.

Does that make Azhdaha a basement dweller?

The seal glows softly with a hum as you stumble closer. Now safely tucked inside, you prioritize the mental toll Zhongli's sacrifice has been giving you.

Accepting the offering with a hazy mind, your body slides against the rocky interior until you sit on the ground. What a relief it is to finally be able to hear yourself think. The new consequences of the sacrifices were really inconvenient. The only reason you don't regret it is because it got Zhongli off your ass.

Now with a clearer mind, you open up the map and find the teleport waypoint near the city. Unfortunately, you're interrupted in the midst of selecting it by a rumble on your side making you glare at it in annoyance.

Red eyes permanently etched into a glare stare back at you. Heavy clawed feet are stomped in place making dust and rocks fly into the air around it. The pillars surrounding the geo dragon shake with force as you watch baffled.

This Azhdaha was the one the lores and description described. As large and tall as the mountains you had been climbing and gliding before with a tree tail rivaling that of the Dragon-Queller.

"Benevolent Creator!" Azhdaha cries out as he smashes his body at the surrounding seal with force. You can feel the ground shake from where you stand outside of the lair.

Was Azhdaha calling you the creator, or calling out to the creator? At this rate, Yelan and Shenhe will come over to investigate. You either have to calm Azhdaha or escape now.

"Beloved Creator, forgive me! Forgive these wretched eyes that refuse to acknowledge your grandeur! This body you carved of Geo, jade, crystalline, and the leylines of all minerals recognize you!"

So he does recognize you, it's his eyes that seem to have some sort of problem... That's right! How could you forget? Zhongli crafted him those eyes. But would that make it dangerous or safe to enter?

Your finger hovers over the teleport button as you stare at the rampaging dragon with wariness. Azhdaha sees it and only fights more.

"Your grace, please don't leave me in this isolating loneliness! These eyes are made by that traitor Morax. I beg of you, do not punish me for the wrongdoings of that traitor. I have lived this life fearing that one day I will succumb to this dreaded erosion before getting to feel your presence. I cannot even enjoy the sight of you with these cursed eyes of mine!"

If a dragon could cry, then that's exactly what Azhdaha was doing. Blue crystalline leaves glowing trails from his eyes down his jaw. Standing up you close the game screen and turn to face him.

"Rest, Azhdaha, I have arrived to see you. Calm yourself and settle in place, lest you attract company that will force me to leave." Your empathetic yet stern voice has an instant impact.

His tantrum stops as crazed murmurs leave him in a string of rumbled praise and thanks. You push past the seal and enter his lair. Making slow and careful steps, you walk toward Azhdaha who is surrounded by pillars serving as a border.

The opportunity of taking in another lonely and devoted elemental beast into your care was too good to pass up. You may even gain useful information or items like you did with Beisht. The serene and imposing smile you held as you walked closer to the mountain-like beast was nothing more than a cover-up for your greed.

So uh, I'm back! I really wasn't kidding about the school taking up a lot of time thing. I'm sorry if this isn't as good as previous chapters. I had to stop writing for quite a while to start school. Plus, this part is shorter since I wanted to give you guys more content. Shenhe is back with the added addition Yelan. I tend to group up most characters to help the flow of the story. And I mostly put these two together due to the funny comics they're featured in. Mind you they won't have the same dynamic as the comics, it was just inspiration for them to work together. Thanks to my editor for doing this soon enough for me to post right now. And I will not make any promises to be faster with the updates, but I do hope I can get into a new rhythm of writing to fit my school. If your username is in italics, that means I couldn't tag you for whatever reason! Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird (I'm sorry for the wait, my computer was being dumb)

[gouraminnow]

Birds of a Feather

(Entirely platonic | SFW | Marco & OC) Marco the Phoenix is found by an orphaned harpy child that mistakes him for one of their own kind. It takes less than a day to commit to adoption- he really is taking after his father.

Warnings: Past world government/celestial dragon related incident, drugging/sedation. This is self indulgent fluff catered to me and exactly one other person she knows who she is. Hi <3

Marco had just wanted to stretch his wings. The winter island they’d all stopped at was beautiful- sloping hills, valleys and deep forests blanketed in thick snow, with the soft orange lights of the small town that had only recently sprung up. They weren’t going to be here very long- at least they didn’t plan on it. Apparently, there were some nice hot springs in more remote areas, and some of the others had asked him to see if he spotted them on his flight. Whether or not his brothers actually wished to commit to the hike when there was booze to be had in town was another matter, but he enjoyed the airtime anyway. The clear wintery skies were quiet and refreshing.

Cresting over a hill and peering down into a valley, he spots the stacked hot spring pools overlapping like fish scales.

But he also spotted something else.

When he swooped lower to get a look at the layered pools of the springs, he also noticed a small white shape- scampering through underbrush, between trees, trying to keep up with him despite being grounded. He can’t get a good look from up here- but whatever it is, it’s awfully little and makes no attempts to conceal itself. He dips again, going lower in an attempt to catch a glimpse of this thing- aiming for a clearing between some pools up ahead, he turns in a wide arc, flaring his wings out to catch the frigid air and slow his descent. He kicks up a healthy plume of snow when he lands, and takes a second to shake himself off. He stands still, arms still transformed into wings as he searches for any movement- though he doesn’t have to wait long. Something white and fluffy with bits of gray and black darts right toward him with a loud trill. He steps to the side, the tiny thing skidding right past him with an undignified squawk. 

The fluffy mess shakes itself off, and he’s met with the confused face of… some sort of little bird creature. It can’t be much taller than his mid-thigh. It wears no clothes, but it does have a leather shoulder bag. It’s covered from head to taloned toe in thick, downy feathers. It has wings instead of arms, but longer, more dextrous phalanges form three functional fingers at each wrist. Little black talons poke through a generous amount of unkempt plumage at both the feet and pseudo-hands, and the face- large, black eyes rimmed with orange, with bright blue circular markings on the cheeks, framed by a wild mane of… well, feathers, but it takes the place of hair. Two little tufts stick out on top of its head, not unlike the “ears” of a great-horned owl. They’re covered in gray and black stripes and speckles- impressive camouflage. He’s sure if the little beast had actually tried to be stealthy, he never would have noticed them. 

But it wasn’t. It was dead-set on getting his attention. It didn’t take a genius to be able to guess that it mistook him for its own kind. He furrows his brow, watching it shake itself off and look back up at him, releasing a quizzical chirp. His mouth presses into a firm line. This was… probably a harpy chick. While harpies were typically depicted with bare faces and torsos, this was a cold environment. Probably just a climate-specific adaptation- or maybe they’re completely feathered as babies and they’ll lose coverage as they age. It chirps at him again, taking a tentative step forward, and he sighs. He’s not sure what to do here. He’s unfamiliar with whatever this species is, and he doesn’t want to inadvertently upset some territorial parents. While the little one seems to think he’s one of them, it’s entirely possible the adults would know better. He looks around- scanning the treeline, the clearing, the sky- and finding no hint of any other presence, he turns back to the creature before him, who has been inching closer and closer. He holds their gaze for a moment. “Where’d you come from, little one?”

They blink up at him. One of their little ear tufts twitches.

“... Can you understand me at all?” He tries.

They tilt their head at him, a little chrrr chrrr chrrr sound bubbling out of their throat.

Inconclusive, but probably not.

With a low chuckle, he crouches down- and that’s when they strike. They launch themselves forward, tackling Marco with a shrill cry. “Woah there,” he says as they cling to his coat, little feet scrabbling frantically as they struggle to get themselves up on top of his bent legs, sitting themselves right down on his lap. They’re not shy at all about getting settled, curling up and nuzzling his chest with a sweet trill. Marco huffs. “Well, aren’t you affectionate, yoi?” he muses, shifting his wings back into arms. Gently, he wraps an arm around the creature, supporting their weight by pressing them against his chest as he sits down cross-legged, settling them back into his lap.

They don’t really react, just continuing to nuzzle against the man. They’re awfully happy to be here, aren’t they? His hands run through the downy, speckled feathers on their back and his mouth presses into a firm line. Checking them over, he finally realizes just how dirty and unkempt they are- specifically in spots they wouldn’t be able to reach on their own. There’s an uninterrupted strip of grimy, disheveled feathers interspersed with the waxy sheaths of developing pin feathers down their spine- when he pulls his hand away, there’s a thin layer of grime on his fingertips. 

“... Who’s taking care of you, kiddo?” He murmurs, only met with the happy, idle twittering of the creature in his lap. “You’re real excited to see me huh…” He’s not sure what to do. They very well could be an orphan, or even a case of a hatchling being ejected from the nest by a stronger sibling. Or they could just be very, very lost. Gently, he pushes the creature’s shoulders back, so they can look each other in the face. “Blink three times if you understand me,” he says, voice firm. They just stare, tilting their head a little bit. Marco sighs. The language barrier is a problem. He takes a second to think, letting the kid snuggle up again. How much this creature takes after regular birds was unknown but some things could be inferred. The eagerness with which they latched onto him suggested a social species- the state of their feathers suggesting flock members assisted each other in grooming. At least at this age, anyway. If this creature had parents, he needed to figure out how to locate them- but as of right now, he had no way of telling if that was the case or not.

 He’s pulled out of his thoughts when the creature begins to rummage through their little bag- producing what looks like two small, dried pieces of meat and then holding one up to his face. They chirp, smiling brightly, practically shoving it against his chin. He looks at the creature's wide eyes, then at the shriveled, burnt looking scrap they’re offering. When he doesn’t accept it immediately, their little face scrunches up, mouth settling into a pout. They pull away, maintaining eye contact, and pop one into their mouth. They make a loud, exaggerated display of chewing(with their mouth closed, thankfully) and swallowing with an audible gulp. Marco huffs, a lazy smile spreading across his face. As unappetizing as it looks, he can smell the char on it, so at least it's been thoroughly sterilized at this point. Not that contaminants were something he worried much about with his particular devil fruit, but some things are just a matter of principle. Dubious meat is dubious. But the display was awfully cute, and he’d hate to disappoint them, so when they slowly hold it out to him again, he plucks it from their talons and swallows it whole. He does briefly taste the char he suspected, but the big grin from the hatchling is worth it.

He ruffles their hair, and they eagerly lean into the gesture. But when he tries to pull away, they grab onto his hand, hopping to their feet and gently trying to tug him along with them. “Oh? Got something to show me?” He gets a series of chirps in response, and they keep tugging. Well, he’s got plenty of time. Might as well see where they want to take him- it's probably his best bet at answering some of his questions.

-

Marco casually follows behind the little bird as they lead him through the snow. He’d gotten them to let go of his hand- they were so short he had to awkwardly bend down in order for them to reach it, and walking like that was very uncomfortable. At one point during their little walk, they had turned back to him and twittered with a quizzical tilt to their head, before flaring their wings out. He raised a brow, and they just repeated the gesture. “Sorry, kiddo, not sure I get what you mean…” they huff, stomping their little feet- before pointing to him and flaring their wings out a third time. A light goes off in his head. Ah, that’s what it is, huh? With a dramatic flourish of blue flame, his arms bloom into wings. He flares them just like they had, flapping a couple times for good measure- disturbing the pristine snow around the two of them in a ten-foot radius. He seems to have gotten it right- they cheer loudly, hopping up and down and twirling in a circle. He can’t help but soften at the sight- he wasn’t a conceited man, but appealing to his ego certainly didn’t hurt. After the little display he just followed along, listening to them chirp and warble endlessly. They may not understand each other, but there was no doubt they were a chatterbox. 

It isn’t long before they come upon a sort of crevice between two tall pools, hidden away by some simple foliage. The little one slips right in, but it’s a bit of a tight squeeze for Marco. The first thing he notices is just how warm it is in the little cave. Makes sense to him- perfect place to make a den. The walls are a soft, reddish brown, working with the pleasant warmth to directly contrast the bitter chill outside. There are a few old wooden crates and cracked, scavenged pottery shoved against the walls of the cavern- the former of which store a variety of pilfered knicknacks, most notably packs of crayons and paints along with what looks like a coarsely-bristled brush tied to a long stick. There’s a nest further in, made of loose furs and old rags primarily- but just beyond that, on the far wall, countless drawings have been pinned up, rows of wobbly child-like sketches displayed right next to their bed. Stepping further, eyes gradually adjusting, he notices something else:

Tally marks.

Hundreds of them- tiny, shallow tick marks etched into every wall of the cave, reaching only a little higher than his knee. Something in him twists, as he crouches down to run his fingers against the clumsily scratched lines. These ones are organized in groups of seven, rather than five. 

He hears another trill, the rustling of papers- and he looks back to see the little one bounding toward him, holding a drawing up above their head with a grin. They shove the paper towards him with an excited cry, earning a chuckle from the man, who graciously accepts it, raising the yellowed material up for a closer look. He goes still, a tightness blooming in his chest. In a childish crayon scrawl, the colors bleeding past the wobbly outlines, are three figures. One is the child standing before him, who is currently excitedly hopping from foot to foot in silent anticipation. They draw themselves as little more than a speckled puffball with big eyes, blue cheeks and their distinct ear tufts. The second figure is bigger, standing to the left of the child. The stripes on this figure are darker, with some browns mixed in with the black and gray stripes. The markings are similar to the child’s, with the blue cheeks and orange-rimmed eyes, but with a few key differences- namely the large tail feathers, black tipped wings and feet, with a hint of that same blue on the undersides of the wings.The drawing is actually… really good, for a kid- there’s an impressive amount of detail put into recreating the distinct markings of their family.

The third figure… confirms some of his suspicions. It’s slightly smaller than the second, but still larger than the child. And the plumage of this adult is primarily a bright, brilliant blue, save for white patches on the belly and face. There’s a tightness in his chest as he holds the paper, eyes flitting to the ever-hopeful face of the child. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. If these harpies matched up with the same types of sexual dimorphism as many bird species, the brightly colored ones are probably the males. This is clearly a family portrait, but the little one’s parents are nowhere to be seen. And the tally marks on the wall don’t reach very high, nor do the drawings they’ve hung up- if they had someone older looking after them, more of that wallspace would probably be utilized. Do they think he’s just another harpy, or their dad specifically? Probably not- if they were able to draw out the markings their parents had, then they’re probably able to see the difference.

“Kid…” he starts, taking a step forward and crouching down. They seem to view this as an invitation, because just like last time, they launch forward and flail their way onto his lap. He sighs, circling an arm around their waist and standing back up. They barely weigh anything at all. He wonders if their bones are hollow.

Now carrying the child, he approaches the wall featuring the rest of the drawings. His steps reverberate around the small cavern, the harpy purring against his chest. He steps into their makeshift nest, settling down in the various pelts, blankets and cushions. It smells a little musty, truthfully… reminds him of the few times he’d entered Ace’s room.

He shakes the thought out of his head, instead focusing on the drawings the little one had made. It’s… a lot of drawings of other Harpies, some scribbly mountains and trees… one seems to depict a gathering of twelve, with a bonfire in the middle and the bird people taking turns roasting nondescript lumps on sticks. He’s sure it’s meant to be meat, as two of them do almost look like rabbit silhouettes. Another depicts the child in his lap playing in the springs with other harpy children- all drawn with sweet little smiles and those big, black dot eyes. All the drawings they’ve pinned to the cave wall are happy scenes with a loving flock that is nowhere to be seen. Many figures celebrating, playing together, hunting and cooking game… none depict a Harpy by itself, all of them groups of at least three. Going off of these, he was right in suspecting they’re part of a highly social species, raised as part of a crowded and attentive flock. Abandonment seems out of the question if these idyllic little pictures are to be believed- but regardless of the circumstances behind their isolation, this was clearly some sort of desperate coping mechanism. Hanging pictures of the family they missed dearly, right by where they sleep? Examining another drawing of adult harpies fending off some large, fearsome thing- mostly black scribbles, big sharp teeth and eyes- while the chicks watch from behind them- the idea of abandonment at the talons of these bird-folk feels like nonsense. He doesn’t want to say anything for sure when all he has to go off are these pictures, but some deep, small but sharp sting of instinct within him makes the suggestion of neglect feel utterly wrong. Something worse had happened, the phoenix was all but certain. His mouth presses into a thin line, and he can’t help but hold the poor kid a little tighter. 

They’re completely oblivious to the inner turmoil welling up inside him, interpreting the slight squeeze as deliberate affection. Their eyelids droop and their feathers puff up as they settle against his warmth. It isn’t long at all before they’re snoring softly in his lap… Marco sighs, idly petting the little bird monster as they doze. “You make it real hard not to get attached, huh, yoi…” He mumbles, gently scratching their chin. Hmm. He wants to check something. Thinking back to their little family portrait, he leans them back and gently unfurls one of their arm-wings. Most of the feathers are still soft and downy, but he catches hints of those iridescent blue patches the mother in the drawing had right under her armpits. Checking their wings, gently detangling as he goes, he catches no further glimpses of those vibrant pinfeathers, and concludes that the child is most likely female- though he is unfamiliar with the child’s age and how quickly their species develops, so he wouldn’t know for sure until all the baby feathers were gone. Judging by the little blue sprigs, it wouldn’t be long-

Marco blinks, stopping his train of thought. When had he started thinking as if this kid was going to live with him? He hadn’t even known them for a day. Suspicious circumstances and heartstring-pulling be damned, it’s far too early to be acting this way. The ideal way this all turns out is that their real family is located, and they’re left with their kind. In the best-case scenario, he’d never even see their adult plumage, having sailed on with his family after reuniting the child with their own. If he did take them with him, he would have to figure out their specific needs on the fly, such as diet, exercise, hygiene, sleeping habits… though at least the size of the crew was unlikely to bother them once they’d integrated, if the large social groups in their artwork were anything to go by. 

Marco sighs. It’s simple- he just needs to know more. And now is the perfect time, seeing as the little one is sleeping like… well, a baby. He sits up, hands raising to their shoulders to gently pry them off from where their claws dig in to the fabric of his coat- and god is the little puffball tiny, one splayed hand covering the width of their speckled back- but as soon as he tries to pull them away, he hears a sleepy little whine and their three-fingered hands bunch up the wool. He frowns- taking in the way their eyes move behind their lids, and the drooping of their ear-tufts. Ugh. Damnit, they’re far too cute for their own good.

With an exaggeratedly resigned sigh, he pulls them back in, the little one cooing contentedly as they snuggle back into the warmth of his chest. He takes a second to adjust, moving the sleeping chick up to a more comfortable position before swinging his legs over the nest’s edge and standing up. He'll just... carry them while he has a look around, since they're so attached. So, with the little chick tucked against his chest with one arm, he begins his search. Starting with the wooden crates off to the side, he’s careful- sinking into a crouch and resting the harpy in the gap between his chest and the tops of his thighs. He picks through- this one is primarily art supplies, as he observed before. Packs of wax crayons dumped into a smaller box, paintbrushes- most in poor condition, he observes, the chipped handle of one resting against his palm as his thumb rubs over the frazzled, uneven bristles spiking outward. There’s a ripped canvas with a broken frame slotted into the box- when he goes to lift it, some chalk falls from where it had likely been resting on the wooden struts. The soft clatter makes the hatchling twitch, but nothing else. There are a few paint pots at the bottom as well, but they’re mostly empty or dried out. Curiously, he finds a couple small rectangular boxes with hinged lids as well, no bigger than his palms. They’re made of a thin, light colored wood and they remind him of Izo’s makeup- a thought that proves its merit when he flips the lid up to reveal the brightly colored chalky substance they have packed away inside. This one has three colors- yellow, orange, and red, and there’s a small mirror tucked into the underside of the lid. Snapping it closed, he opens the other- a sky blue, a darker cobalt pigment, and a deep purple. Hmm. He puts the palettes back where he found them, and turns his attention to the sleeping kid again. Leaning back, he rubs a thumb against the bright blue cheek spot, then pulls it away. Nothing. Those markings were natural, then. Well, it was left at the bottom of the box. If it was something they used with any regularity it would’ve been easier to reach. But the idea of birdfolk adding a little extra pigment to their plumage is one that tickles him.

He doesn’t find much else of note. He examines the brush on a stick he had seen earlier, finds some tools such as knives and scissors. One box has netting, rope, and fishing line- a broken rod laying at the bottom in two pieces. There’s a hole in the floor closer to the entrance of the cave, covered with an old pot lid- when he opens it, he finds a rabbit, two wrapped fish, and a handful of berries in a cheesecloth resting in a bed of snow.

But then, looking back to the inside of the cave, his eyes catch something he’d missed, somehow. Peeking out from under the nest, are more scraps of paper- the crinkled, triangular corners overlapping each other. More drawings… moving back toward the nest, he crouches slowly, careful with the child as usual. Reaching out, he tugs the crinkled papers out from under the furs they’ve been hidden under-

His heart leaps into his throat. His hand, tightening its grip, further crumpling the thin material.

The first picture is of a ship bearing the familiar emblem of the world government, scribbled navy blue and white trim topped by the golden figurehead all world noble ships have. He doesn’t need to look at the rest to know this poor child really is alone. The rest of the hidden drawings, pulled out from where they’ve been shoved and unfolded by his deft hand, are devastating- not just because of the contents. All of them less precise, more frantically drawn, indents or even tears where the kid had applied too much pressure while coloring. Tiny pinprick stains of water damage, if he looks close enough. One drawing is just a large fire. In another, adults and children alike trapped under nets. One shows suited men shooting some of the creatures as the ridiculous bubble-headed celestial dragon oversees. And there was yet another, depicting the familiar bright blue-plumed male flying away with the baby in his talons, little dots as tears falling from their eyes.

No wonder they were so happy to see him. No wonder they could overlook the glaring differences between him and their own kind.

The little one shifts, and Marco realizes how hard he’s breathing. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he takes a moment to calm himself, for their sake- but it’s not easy. Well. He’d already wanted to take the little one with him. He didn’t see a world where Oyaji would say no, especially not once Marco told him everything. And if anyone else had an issue (though he doubted anyone would, other than the typical rational concerns when it comes to having a small child on a pirate ship), they would just have to deal with it. Marco was a commander, he did what he wanted.

But of course, he still has questions. In the brief time they’d spent in town, nobody had made any mention of harpies. He knows the small village is a very recent development- four years old, if he remembered right- is it possible that its presence is younger than the tragedy that befell the birdfolk? When visiting a new place with his family, local urban legends were quickly picked up on. Proud, hardworking folk like these often want others to be impressed with the places they call home- that’s why they’d put so much emphasis on the springs. It seemed odd that nobody had mentioned that this island once contained at least one whole flock of mythical creatures.

But looking at all the tally marks on the walls, the small, clustered groups of seven, seven, seven- he hadn’t counted them, but over four years of living alone looked very plausible if he assumed the kid counted accurately. Did… the kid know there was a human settlement? He would assume they did, but then again… the distance is a lot for someone so small. He only spotted the remote cluster of pools from the air, before he swooped down for a closer look. And all of their things look old, held together through improvised fixes- nothing new that would suggest they had stolen from town. Though if they did know of its presence, it was possible they avoided it on purpose. They only wanted Marco’s attention because he was a giant blue bird. They might not differentiate between world nobles and humans in general. With that in mind, he should be cautious with crew introductions.

Well, regardless of the kid’s relations (or lack thereof) with the other locals, they were coming with him. As well as he can using one hand, he gingerly stacks the previously hidden artwork, tapping it against the ground to line them up. He wishes he had some sort of folder… tucking them into his coat will have to do for now, so he slowly leans them back- prying their little fingers out of the grip they hold so he can unbutton the front enough to slide the papers in. Something to show the others- some sympathy for his cause wouldn’t hurt.

And with that, he lets himself partially transform- Wings, feet, tailfeathers. with a flourish of healing fire- that he washes over the child, just in case. She blinks, yawning- and he watches the flickering of his own flames in their dark, glassy eyes as they widen. They smile up at him with a chirp, and he returns it. “Have a nice nap, little one?” He croons. “How would you like to go on a little flight with me, yoi?” They twitter up at him, feathers puffing up. He sets them down on the floor- which they whine about, earning a laugh from him. He shifts from foot to foot before holding one up and making a grabbing motion with his talons. They perk right up- and sprint outside. Marco blinks, moving after them and squeezing himself through the jagged opening to their little hideout. That’s something he wasn’t looking forward to when he came back to pack up their belongings.

Out in the snow, the hatchling calls out to him- they’ve laid down on their belly, sinking into the powdery substance. He’s amused and impressed they got the message so fast. He thought he’d have to take a leaf out of their book and draw a picture of himself carrying them away. He approaches slowly, holding out one foot again- and when she doesn’t move, he slowly, gingerly wraps his talons around their midsection, the first of his three front toes resting just under the armpit. He tests his grip first, lifting them up while balancing on the other foot, which earns a giggle from them. It feels secure enough, and they don't seem uncomfortable. So using his free foot to propel himself upward, he flaps once, twice, and they’re off- Marco smiling widely at the excited trill they let out. While a little awkward to carry, they’re tiny and weigh nothing to him. They soar over the trees, and Marco climbs higher- even through the sound of the air rushing past his ears, he doesn’t miss the little gasp that escapes them once he’s gotten enough air to reveal the pinks and oranges of a horizon at sunset.

It doesn’t take long. His jaw clenches when he can feel their little body growing more and more tense, the closer he gets to the Moby Dick. When he begins his descent towards the deck, Oyaji and a few others in view- they emit a loud, piercing whine, starting to wriggle. He pulls up, wings flaring out to slow himself, and sticks the landing on one foot, balancing himself before gently setting the kid down with the other. They immediately latch onto Marco’s legs, feathers bristling in agitation. Whitebeard raises a brow, leaning forward in his seat. He’s still shirtless, despite the weather. “Marco,” he rumbles out in greeting. “What’s this you’ve brought to us?” He asks, gesturing to the cowering child clinging to Marco’s legs.

Some of the others have started to gather around, wanting to see what this is about. Marco sighs. First, he reaches into his coat for the bundle of artwork. “Tate, would you mind looking over these with Oyaji?” He asks, extending his arm to the nurse, who approaches slowly. He hands them off to the nurse, who is thankfully dressed for the weather unlike his father, and crouches down to try and dislodge the kid. They whine at him when he grips them by the shoulders, peeling them off of him to the amusement of his brothers. He flashes a quick glare to the men and their chuckling quiets down. “Come on kid, you’re fine, yoi” he chides, opting to lift them into his arms. They bury their face in his chest as he sits them on one arm, turning the other into a wing which he carefully folds around their trembling body. Hopefully, hiding them from view gives them a little security.

He looks back up to Tate, and to Oyaji- he’s leaning over her shoulder as the blonde woman examines each childish drawing, her face growing more troubled with each one. Oyaji keeps the same stony expression the entire time, save for the subtle narrowing of his father’s eyes. “This one spotted me flying, Oyaji. Chased after me from the ground.” He says, watching his old man’s eyes raise to meet his own. “... They think I’m one of them. They’ve been alone for a real long time, yoi. What you’ve got right there, that’s what happened to the rest.”

“These… these are awful,” Tate breathes, still fixated on the foreboding artwork. Marco nods, mouth set in a firm line. 

“Hmph. So you’re saying we’re keeping them, I take it?” the old man says, plucking one of the drawings from Tate’s hands and leaning back to examine it closer. 

Marco nods. “My responsibility, of course. The kiddo’s already… attached.” He sighs, feeling them shift against his chest. “They don’t speak any… human languages. I have no way of telling them that I am not what they think I am, yoi.”

An uncomfortable silence settles over the deck, Whitebeard’s stern gaze sinking to the wing concealing the tiny creature. “And you are certain there are no others of their kind left here?” He asks, the unspoken meaning clear. He is not unsympathetic- it’s the same thought Marco had. It would be better to reunite them with their species, if possible.

Marco nods once again. “They’ve been living in a small cave, and they’ve scratched hundreds of tally marks into the walls. I didn’t count, but it’s been years, yoi. I think…” he sighs, pausing for a second. “None of the townsfolk said anything about bird people. I think this event predates the existence of the village, and this child has managed to remain hidden all this time, yoi.”

His father regards him from a moment, a warmth in his eyes few others would have recognized. “Let me get a look at them. Only for a moment.” Marco nods, retracting his wing. The little one sits with their face buried in his chest, trembling. He nudges them. They whine. He sighs, leaning them back, patting their head with his free hand and gesturing to Whitebeard. They hesitantly turn their head, and he feels them tense when they meet eyes with the Yonko. The towering man gives them a small smile, but it doesn’t help much. They recoil into Marco, pitchy squeak leaving their throat. The Phoenix sighs, letting them latch onto him and covering them from view once more. “Well, that’s it, then.” Whitebeard grunts. “What d’you need?”

“Somebody find Thatch- I need him to whip something up for ‘em. Some meat, add a sedative- I’m going back to their little hideaway to pack their things while they sleep.”

-

Thatch is located, and is reportedly happy to assist. Marco had moved the little beast to his own room, since being around so many humans all of a sudden had utterly terrified the poor thing.He swaddles them in blankets, and intends to leave them in bed- but his face softens when a hand shoots out to cling to him once more. He sighs at the little one glaring at him from the bundle of fabric. “I know, I know,” he coos. “I wish you understood me,” he laments, lifting their swaddled form into his arms. “But this is a good thing, yoi. We’re going to take care of you.” He makes his way over to his desk, opting to at least read over some reports while he waits for Thatch. Settling the child in his lap, he picks up some papers and leans back. 

A bit of guilt creeps up the back of his throat- the poor thing is still trembling. They aren’t being deliberately affectionate like they were before- no chirping, no squeaking, no nuzzling. Just laying where he put them. He sighs, using his free hand to rub their back. They don’t do anything, other than shift slightly. 

It doesn’t take long before he hears three knocks at his door- making the kid flinch. “It’s alright,” he murmurs, patting them softly before speaking up louder. “Come in.” Thatch enters, carrying a  covered platter on one hand.

“Hey, Marco!” the chef beams, strutting inside and setting the food down on the little corner table. The child clings to Marco’s chest tighter, at the sound of his voice. “Heard the big news- fatherhood is gonna look great on you, papa bird~” he teases in a sing-song voice. Marco rolls his eyes, adjusting the kid and standing up to face his crewmate. Thatch’s face softens when his eyes fall onto the bundle in Marco’s arms. “Aw. Still upset, huh?” He says, considerably more subdued now.

“Yeah,” he affirms, patting the bundled creature on the top of the head. “Can’t blame the poor kid- they don’t understand a word we say, so it’s not like I can do much to reassure them, yoi.”

Thatch sighs. “Well, I got the message,” he says, one hand on his hip as he removes the lid with a flourish. The child doesn’t move, but Marco can hear them sniffing. Thatch prepared various types of meat, cut into thin strips, arranged almost like a charcuterie board. There’s a peeled orange and some mixed berries as well. “I’ve got some cured meats, fruits, and I grilled a bit of pork- that’s what's got the sedative in it. Thought about doing chicken, too, but y’know…” He gestures vaguely, and Marco snorts with a shake of his head.

“Thanks, Thatch. And don’t leave just yet, alright?” He says, sliding into a chair. Thatch pulls up one of his own right across from them.

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of ‘em, anyway. Everyone up top is gossiping.” He smiles, leaning back and propping a foot up on the opposing knee.

Marco returns the smile. “It’s your lucky day, then. You’ll be the first crewmate I introduce, yoi.” If he wants the kid to learn that the others won’t hurt them, the chef is a good place to start. He pries their little talons out of his shirt, shushing the undignified whine the action draws from them. He pulls the blanket down so it’s bunched around their waist, and spins them in his lap to face the tray of food. Thatch’s eyes widen, and a soft gasp falls from his lips. 

The kid regards him warily, leaning back against Marco’s chest. Their ear tufts are drooping back, and their talons find their way to the arm around their waist. “Hey there, little one. Oh, aren’t you cute?” Thatch greets, offering a small wave and a reassuring smile. “I heard all those brutes upstairs gave you a scare, huh? Poor thing,” he coos, before pushing the platter closer. They tense, but lean forward, sniffing the air. “Go ahead, kiddo, all yours.”

The hatchling is hesitant. Their little hands rise from Marco’s forearm, and both men watch their fists clench and unclench. When they turn back to look at Marco, their little face is scrunched up in worry- even if he can’t see their eyebrows through their thick, messy hair, he can tell they’re drawn tight. He gives them a relaxed smile, and slowly reaches out to pluck a piece of salami off of the plate. He makes sure they’re looking when he eats it, chewing slowly. He nods to Thatch. “You eat something too, yoi,” he says. The other man nods, opting for an orange slice. The kid’s little ear tufts perk up, just a little, and they lean forward. Some of the apprehension is beginning to melt away, but they still aren’t going for it. They look nervously back and forth between both men, head swiveling on their little neck. So Marco reaches out again- another piece of meat in his hand, holding it to their mouth as they had done to him. Slowly, they lean forward, biting the edge, and Marco lets go. It doesn’t even take a full second for the kid to realize how good it tastes, snapping it up instantly. They chew, swallow, lick their lips, go to reach for another-

And they freeze, just shy of touching the food. Marco could groan, but he doesn’t. Thatch gives the kid a nod, and when they look back to Marco, he does the same. Their dark glassy eyes go wide for a second. They pick up a blackberry, looking at both men for any reaction before eating it. This repeats a couple of times before they finally give in and start eating like the damn place is on fire, much to Thatch’s delight. The cured meats and fruits are snapped up in a flash, the thin prosciutto torn to shreds as they indulge. The pork is a bit chewier, taking them a little longer, but they eat everything before the drug even starts to set in. They’re licking their talons clean when Thatch pulls the platter back, and stands up. “Well, that was impressive,” he muses, smiling down at the child. They don’t cower against Marco anymore, instead leaning forward to chirp quizzically at the tall man. “Yep, I’m talkin’ to you, honey,” he laughs. “You’ll give Ace a run for his money, I know it.”

“Hope so. All of this is fluff, they’re a scrawny little thing underneath, yoi” Marco chuckles, rubbing the top of their head, relaxing when they lean up into his touch again. He was right. Food is a good way to help most creatures feel secure. 

“What do you need hope for? You know I won’t disappoint! They certainly seemed to like it, didn’t they? Oh, just look at them,” Thatch coos, watching as their eyes squint in satisfaction. 

The two speak a little longer, Thatch telling Marco that word had spread quickly. Oyaji had already given them a nickname, referring to them as “Pipsqueak” and sternly instructing his sons to leave them be for now. Marco told Thatch more about his encounter in turn- the way they’d exuberantly tackled him, the cave, the way the happy drawings had been pinned up by their bed- that particular detail had him dramatically slapping a hand over his heart. “Sent off to find some hot springs, and you come back with an orphan. You’re really taking after the old man, Marco.” He says with a sly smile. It doesn’t take too long for the kid to start nodding off- after around five minutes, there’s a big yawn, and they’re snuggling up to Marco again. He wraps an arm around them, gently preening their wings with his fingers. The speckled little creature all but melts against his chest.

“I think that’s your cue to get going, yoi,” he says.

Thatch sighs, dramatically slapping his hand over his heart. “So it is… how cruel.”

“Oh don’t pout about it, yoi. I actually let you see ‘em didn’t I? And you’ll be bringing them plenty more meals, I’m sure.”

“Of course I will! I’m aiming for the title of Favorite Uncle, after all!”

“You’ll have some stiff competition, yoi.”

“I’m a chef, my dear brother,” Thatch beams, spreading his arms. “Kids love food. Everybody loves food. I like my odds.”

Marco wouldn’t say it, but he did, too. Instead he just smiles, lifting the child into his arms. They rub a blue cheek against his chest, eyelids fluttering. “Yeah, yeah. Now go, yoi. Shoo. I’m sure I’ll be up shortly.” Thatch chuckles, gazing tenderly at the child before shaking his head. As his weathered hand grips the brass door handle, he shoots his brother a knowing smirk.

“You sure you’ll be back in time for them to wake up? I’m a busy man, but I’d be happy to keep an eye on-”

“I said shoo, yoi! Get on with it!”

Thatch laughs, the door swinging closed behind him with a creak. Marco sighs, shaking his head, but he’s still smiling. Turning his attention back to the kid, he holds them closer and stands up from his seat. He listens to their soft breathing, trying not to let the patch of drool seeping through his shirt bother him. He sets them down on the bed, carefully unwrapping the blanket to tuck them in properly. He lays them against the pillow, huffing at their drowsy face, their mouth still hanging open. He pulls the blanket up to their chin, patting them on the head. They nuzzle into his pillow, sigh, and quickly slip into slumber.

He stays for a moment, warm hand resting on top of their head as they doze. “Big day for you hmm?” He muses. It didn’t take long at all for him to commit to this, did it? He wishes they understood him. That he didn’t have to do things like this. But at the very least, his intentions were altruistic, and the child suspected nothing. And when they woke up, they’d have all their drawings hung up within view of their new nest.

[littlefanficprincess]

Dancing across my mind

🎆One shot🎆

Pair: Tai lung x reader

Song: Someone to you (Banners)

"Dive and disappear without a trace, I just wanna be someone"

Important: (Y/A) = Your animal, ‼️Spoilers for Kungfu Panda 4‼️

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

It felt like it was ages ago when I had first met him, a life time ago.

I was about the age of eight, just moved to the valley of peace with my family. It truly lived up to its name, a lot calmer compared to the big city. A very welcome change.

A young (y/a) emerges from a building which was covered with posters. In her paws/feathers/claws were a (f/c) colored fan.

My mother was a traditional dancer, a famous one at that. She use to perform at theaters near our old home. I wanted to be just like her.

The small creature stumbles through the villages, watching as other pass by. Her (e/c) look up and latch onto a mountain with a Cherry Blossom tree on it.

Her eyes sparkle in fascination. She picks up the pace, and almost begins running. Unknownly, she almost jumps into a geese who was carrying a crate full of vegetable.

Finally after a few minutes was carrying herself up. She reaches the top of the mountain. It was really high, she could even see her house from here!

I sometimes wonder if I never went to the mountain on that faithful day, I most likely would've never met him.

The (f/a) moves to stand in the beginning pose, she in- and exhales like her mother taught her. She carefully moves her arms/feathers, feeling the wind flow past her form.

She couldn't imagine how amazing she looks as feels cherry bottom leafs flow through the breeze.

Her grip on the fan loosend and she accidentally drops it on the moss covered rocks. She was about to retrieve her when a pair of paws grab them.

She looks up, meeting two kind golden eyes. Those belonging to a snow leopard that seemed her age. He shyly bends down on one knee "I think you've dropped this" He holds out the fan for her grab.

(Y/n) reaches and takes it from him, feeling her wing/paw brush against his. "Thank you, um..." She says, not knowing his name.

"Tai...Tai lung!" He introduces himself, seeming to have trouble with his words. He seemed shy and excited at the same time.

There was something special about him, but (Y/n) couldn't place her feater/finger on it. "Thank you, Tai Lung" A smile appears on her face. "May I ask what brings you here?"

"I might have had a burst of anger and my jiaolian had send me over her to meditate and dim my anger" Tai Lung explains, akwardly fiddling with his paws.

(Y/n) resumes the begin pose, holding the fan tightly "Why don't join me, dancing always makes me relax"

Hesitantly, Tai Lung moves to stand next to the other. He copies the begin pose, looking at his arms and legs to make sure he was doing it correct.

His eyes watch (Y/n)'s movements, observing the dance. He follows her moves, soon they were moving in sync. Tai Lung realises how peaceful he felt, feeling the wind flow through his fur.

Not so far away stood Shifu, proud to see his student was able to calm the burning rage in himself.

For years, (Y/n) and Tai Lung met on the mountain. Dancing and training togheter, Tai Lung was even able to teach (Y/n) some fighting moves. (Y/n) became a better dancer and Tai Lung became a greater fighter.

But it came all to an end on the day he told me about his 'Destiny'.

(Y/n) sits calmly ontop the mountain, her eyes were shut. She in- and exhales through her nose. From behind she could hear someone approaching, she knew those footsteps all too well.

She turns just time to be grabbed by the waist and held up. The one holding her up was Tai Lung himself, seeming very happy for some reason.

(Y/n) couldn't help but let out an excited giggles, gripping into his strong arms as support "What has you so overjoyed?"

Carefully, Tai Lung places the (y/a) down back on her feet "The next time you will see, I will have the title of the Dragon Warrior!"

"Fancy title, will you get a metal of honor along with it?" (Y/n) Jokes, smiling at her companion.

Tai Lung chuckles, shaking his head, amused by her remark "Maybe, If I'm lucky. I know you'll be proud of me"

"I already am, I always have been"

After he left, I waited for him. It was so quiet underneath the cherry Blossom tree. I missed his laughter, his snarky remarks that would always brought a smile to my face.

(Y/n) looks at the letter she was holding, she was planning to give it to Tai Lung. She sighs and places it in a drawer, closing it after.

Rumors grew, stories about him destroying a nearby village. They would follow me everywhere, as many knew how close we were. Most of my shows had town.

Years past, the rumors became less and less. Until he left everyone's mind, but not mine. Fifteen years later, I had walked out of theater I usually perform at.

The infamous (y/a) strolls out of the building, holding her trusty (f/c) fan by her side. She pauses when she hears crashing nearby.

A figure gets flung infront of her, only a few meters away. They use their fist to bring their motion to a stop. It was Tai Lung.

As if feeling her presence, he turns his head to look at her gaze. Their eyes widen at the sight of the other. Tai Lung didn't get much reaction as he was punched in the stomach by Po, making him fly out of sight.

Scared, (Y/n) rush out, trying to find her old friend. She follows the trial of destruction, going all throughout the valley.

She found it stopped in the middle of the street, with a huge crater in the street. She turns to a pig standing nearby "Have you seen a snow leopard by any chance?"

"The dragon Warrior had defeated him a few moments ago, you just missed it" The pig explains to her.

Next to pig were three bunnies, jumping up and down, excitedly. "It was so cool, he went like pow pow pow!" "Then he did skadoosh!" "It was like send that cat to another dimension"

Hope dissapears in her eyes as the possibility of him being dead. After all these years she sees him finally, only to hear that he could already be dead.

A few years later

One by one, the old enemies return to the spirit realm. General Kai flies into the golden portal, leaving Tai Lung to be the only one left.

"Guess it's your turn now" Po turns to his old foe, holding his staff with a tight grip.

Tai Lung shakes his head "I won't, atleast not yet, Dragon Warrior. I have some businesses to take care of" He turns and walks up the stairs. The Bandits, along with po's dads stand aside to let him walk past.

"Should we just let him walk out of here like that?" Zhen asks Po, using her thumb to point towards the leaving snow leopard."I mean, what is the worst he can do now that he isn't out for revenge" The panda replies, shrugging his shoulders.

Meanwhile (Y/n) was in her home, pouring some tea in a small cup. She pauses when she hears rummaging, it sounded like it was near.

Turning around, she finds her old friend bend down on one knee. Tai Lung had his head lowered, not meeting her eyes.

"Tai Lung..." (Y/n) mumbles underneath her breath, taking the few of someone she hadn't seen for so long.

"I have down many reckless and irresponsible things. All I ask for you is your forgiveness, only if you think I deserve it" Tai Lung says, not moving an inch.

(Y/n) stays quiet, not sure what to say. The snow leopard takes the silence as rejection, he was about to get up and walks away.

When he was brought in to en embrace by one other than the (Y/a) "You don't know how much I've missed you"

"I missed you too, my dancer"

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— just for tonight, i don’t hate you + katsuki bakugou.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — when there’s a bounty over your head and a reward for your safe return to your soon-to-be husband and future king, touya todoroki… you should be mindful of who you fall for. you should pretend to hate the man who seeks the prize money you’d bring. and the dragon prince, katsuki bakugou, should probably do the same.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up, smut, angst, arguments, one-bed trope, enemies to lovers, love confessions, arranged marriages, fingering, marking, biting, scratching creampies, hair pulling, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, slight!infidelity, fantasy!au, fem!reader, dragon prince!bakugou.

⭑ words — 2.8K.

⭑ notes — happy valentine’s day my sweets!! here’s a precious little fic for you, a commission from the darling @peonies-and-teacakes and beta read by @yuki-no-akumu !! i hope you guys enjoy and remember that ily <3 mwah mwah !! - m.list ✩

“s-sir…i am so sorry.”

don’t. 

“t-there’s been some kind of mistake!”

don’t you say it.

“unfortunately the room at our inn you’d requested for tonight has been double booked…”

don’t you dare say it.

“we can only offer you the alternative which is a single bed, again sir, i-i’m so sorry.” 

it’s not the clerk’s fault, it’s a simple mistake that anyone could make at an inn located in one of the busiest travelling towns in all of Aethopia— but it shouldn’t have happened to katsuki bakugou. it’s the worst thing that could have ever happened to katsuki bakugou. “you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” the dragon prince snarls, almost resembling the mystical creature acting as his tribe’s crest— teeth white, sharp and menacingly on display. “all this fuckin’ coin spent on a useless, shitty inn ‘nd you can’t even book the right room?”

the clerk shrinks back, visibly shaken as they hand over a set of room keys to the blonde. “s-so sorry! s-sir!” they add timidly, flinching as they clatter into bakugou’s palm and he snatches the metal away from them.

“sorry ain’t gonna cut it, what a waste of my coin! i ain’t ever comin’ back to this shithole.” he continues to snap, and with a swish of his red woven cape, bakugou’s gone— storming away and outside of the reception, filled with enough rage to fan the flames of a dragon’s fire. you’re waiting for him with his horse, tending to it as he steps into the cool outside. the forest trees sway with the prince’s arrival but don’t do anything to distract you from running your fingers to the snow-white coloured steed. 

you’re beautiful and that angers katsuki. you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen in all of the moons he’s existed— you shine under the light of the silver crescent, as if glitter is speckled all over your skin or you’re covered in a layer of diamonds.

your smile as his horse chuffs and nudges you with its head is precious, more valuable than any gem found in this world’s greatest mines. your dress isn’t made out of the finest materials, but it fits perfectly around your sweet dips and curves— it’s pretty. you’re pretty. there’s something about you that makes a mess of katsuki’s pulse, that steals his breath away and he hates you for it. 

you’re supposed to be an ordinary girl, you’re supposed to be just a pile of coin to him— a reward for returning you, prince touya of Ignis’ runaway bride. there was a hefty bounty hanging over your head for your safe return to his royal highness’ side, for you were to be the tool that helped to clean up prince touya’s act and get him prepared for kingship. again, you weren’t meant to be anything more to katsuki, in fact, if he had to he would force himself to despise you— you make him miserable, he has to remind himself that you’re just a prize. nothing more, nothing less. 

despite the blonde’s plan to have you back in the hands of the todoroki family— he’s had his doubts. rumour has it that touya todoroki, better known to lesser folk as dabi, is an evil brute. one with little regard to the women he’s kept or invited up to his royal chambers. other whispers on the street have mentioned that you were a spoiled little village girl from within their kingdom, refusing the life the todoroki’s were to offer you. 

that was another reason for bakugou to hate you— you were a brat that ran away because touya wouldn’t feed you with a silver spoon, because he was the first man in your existence to be unkind and you couldn’t find it in yourself to put up with it despite being set for the rest of your life. 

katsuki bakugou of the dragon tribe had found you just outside of his territory— half dead, your clothes torn and a second away from being hunted by the mythical monsters that prowled them. you resented him, for what he did next. you had the audacity to be mad at the dragon prince for saving your life and nursing you back to health. you blame him for the miserable outcomes of your life and for having his heart set on returning you back to touya todoroki, blaming him for it all.

at the time, the pair of you had argued. bakugou had called you a stupids and naive little girl— who wouldn’t want to be married to a future king? you wouldn’t have a single thing to worry about if you did, your every need would be taken care of without you even asking. you wouldn’t have to kill for your next meal, worry about when or where you could sleep next, spend every day fighting for survival. clearly you both had different views on the world, and what should have been gratefulness turned into hatred.

bakugou had tied your wrists, dragged you kicking and screaming back on the route straight to the todoroki castle— reuniting you with your Prince Charming. so far, you’d made this journey hell, almost cost him fights and got him in trouble with clients or employers. you were embarrassing.

and in your eyes? katsuki was your fairytale villain. he was a selfish, ugly bastard who wouldn’t let you steal your freedom, all for some money. you hated bakugou with every fibre of your being and every ounce of your heart and he knew. he knew this, but that didn’t make it any easier to handle when you look at him like his every step scorches the earth.

scowl at him like you do now.

like he was the most awful man in the world. like he was touya. who he had heard from stories didn’t handle women in the best of ways.

“what, ya still mad at me, princess?” bakugou asks as he approaches you, the twigs snapping under his boots grabbing your attention. 

before arriving at the inn, the dragon wielder had told you that you were a useless airhead— one that couldn’t survive on her own and needed a man to save her. you’d slapped him hard without hesitation and neither of you’d spoken until now. “of course i am, don’t ask stupid questions, you barbarian,” you spit harshly, turning back to the horse at hand. “did you get the room? i’m tired and sick of looking at your face.” 

he almost flinches back to avoid being hit by your venomous words but instead retaliates. “i did ‘n yer stuck with me, sweetheart, there’s only one bed.” 

“you’re kidding, right?” your eye twitches as you spin on your heel to face katsuki once more and the blonde braces himself for an onslaught of your slander. “oh! bakugou. you’re such an incompetent fool. you can’t even book an inn on your own, so you need a woman to do that for you?” you throw his words from earlier back into his face like an acid burn that’s been waiting underneath your tongue.

“i didn’t wanna be stuck with your ass anyways! quit complainin’!” 

“well, if you insist on not being stuck with me, perhaps releasing me before we reach the todoroki’s is a good idea—“ 

“— fat chance, princess.” bakugou scoffs back. “not with the bounty over your head. puttin’ up with your shitty attitude will be fuckin’ worth dealin’ with until you’re back with ‘em.”

he doesn’t give you a chance to retort, heading back into the inn whether you follow him or not. 

katsuki is glad that you don’t, at least not straight away— wanting to calm down the ache you’ve inflicted upon his hatred-blackened heart.

though he might hate you, katsuki can always tell when you’re crying.

around the same time every night and throughout your travels, your shoulders shake as sobs rack your body while you think he’s fast asleep. of course, the dragon prince feels bad— he’s practically handing you off to the devil in exchange for a lump of cash. you’ve been down on your luck and the blonde feels partially responsible for that. 

rolling over to face you, bakugou watches with a deep frown as you keep your eyes on the wall opposite you— not daring to acknowledge him. “‘m sorry… about what i said,” he feels guilty but only just, unsure of his next words. “‘bout this touya thing… and all the men that have hurt you. i’m—” he takes a breath. “sorry about everything. i only treat you that way ‘cause i don’t want ya to end up lost like me…” he doesn’t want you to fall for him, to stay with him.

silence echoes between you both but katsuki can tell that you’ve calmed down from the way your body stops shaking and your hiccups quieten down. “you care about me, bakugou?” rolling over, the blonde finds himself lost in the sparkle of your galaxy eyes yet again— hating you for it, fighting down his love for you.

you’re close, way too close and everything beneath the sheets is hot. “shut up, princess.” bakugou whispers, not realising that the warmth of his breath is coasting over your lips wetly. before either of you know it, you’re kissing— mouths slotting against one another, tongues rolling over each other sloppily as you swap spit and pour undisclosed feelings into one another. his hands slip under your flimsy excuse for a night-gown, trailing up the good meat of your thighs, the soft curves of your waist and hips. you have him in shambles, with the way you gasp quietly at his thumbs swiping at the swell of your breasts— just brushing over your pebbling nipples. you coo and cry and he takes more from you, tugging on your lower lip with shining rows of pearly whites and licking into your mouth to swallow your whistle-tone moans.

“quiet, princess,” bakugou’s mouth is hot, blisteringly slow— his tongue leaving trails of clear, thick saliva along the planes of your skin. “gotta be quiet, baby, can’t wake anyone up, yeah?” the sharp edges of his teeth just graze your salt-licked flesh, barely nipping it. katsuki knows better, he can’t leave marks. he can’t return damaged goods to the soon-to-be king. to the touya todoroki. “so good, such a good girl.”

“o-oh! k-katsuki!” you stutter out, eyes rolling to the back of your skull and locking away the stars as the dragon prince’s hand fumbles between your hot and heavy bodies. he finds your clit, swollen and sticky— pulsating beneath rough fingertips. “p-please, i need you. please, katsuki. n-need–!” you sing your praises to the high heaves, the letters of his name rubbed into your pretty pussy as he plays with it between your slick, doughy thighs.

a single finger slips past your fluttering entrance, but he doesn’t dare let up on your pleasure nub— circling it diligently. “shut up, yeah?” the man slurs into your neck, spreading your pussy lips apart to finger you deeper, faster— losing his sanity listening to the sound of you squelch. “i hate you…r’member that. h-hate you— fuck…” 

“hate you, s’much. o-oh, right there!” your own set of fingers curl in sandy blonde locks tightly pulling him back up to your face for a kiss. but his eyes, your eyes, they both speak forbidden and unspoken love. your other hand grasps at his throbbing cock, arousal spilling over your knuckles and straight from the tip. his chest rumbles in pleasure, hips rutting into your closed fist languidly before he swoops down to lure you into the forest of temptation, the haze of another uncoordinated, messy kiss.

you mewl into one another’s open mouths, swollen and cherry lips meshing together— this? whatever you’re doing together, a pile of sweaty limbs moving in sync with one another…it’s everything either of you have ever wanted. playing pretend, hating one another face to face and loving one another in secret. katsuki curls his fingers, pressing down on your g-spot and you run your thumb through the seedy slit of his cockhead…eager to please one another. to love one another.

“put it in, katsuki.” gasping but demanding, you call to him— hungry for more, to have his everything. he wants to, god he wants to. but what if he hurts you? what if you fall apart like fragile glass? what if touya—? you grab at the blonde’s chin, guiding his gaze up to yours and his thick girth to your clenching, unfilled hole. “just for tonight, one night. show me how you truly feel about me katsuki…make love to me.”

you’re giving him a chance, giving him this one last night to deflower the prettiest, most beautiful thing katsuki bakugou has ever held in his bare, monstrous hands. wrapping your legs around the slenderness of his waist, you lock your ankles at the small of his back and squeeze to draw him closer. his milky shaft pushes through your arousal soaked folds, clear strings of it clinging to every vein that decorates the length of him.

both of you shudder once he’s bottomed out inside the warmth of your velvety, silken walls. he’s as deep as he can go, stretching you over him with slow rolls of his hips and his balls heavy with cum, seated at the curve of your ass. “f-fuck, you’re tight, princess,” katsuki whines, wrapping his arms around your head to pin you to the bed beneath him. he fills you to the brim, brings tears to your eyes as he splits you apart and pieces you back together with every single thrust. your g-spot is a victim to endless ectasy given to you by his mushroomed tip as it rams against you, desperately. 

rolling your hips up to match his pace, you swallow the saliva pooling on the palette of your tongue— skin buzzing with lust while you mark up the blonde’s back. you leave tiger-claw patterns across his tanned back, red and raw before mussing up his hair pulling him closer until either of you have room to breathe. his breath is ragged against the shell of your ear, thrusts rampant each time he plunges into your souse, salacious pussy.

katsuki drowns himself in you, and like an alcoholic reaching for another drink— he’s addicted. he groans pathetically when you bite him, kiss him and spit into his mouth until he’s babbling and brainless. you bite his shoulder to keep quiet but the bed creaks loudly enough to cover your harmonised moans and the sound of skin slapping on skin harshly. 

“i love you,” you breathe weakly, body wracked with shakes when bakugou slips out of your cunt from how fast he's pounding you into the sheets, tied to you only by strings of slick.

he says it back, instantaneously while forcing himself back into your addictive heat, desperate to get you both to your highs. “i love you.” next he finds your clit again, using three fingers to tap at it so that you tremble cutely beneath him. “hold it, princess. hold your orgasm. p-promise it’ll feel good, kay?” the dragon prince pulls back only just, dragging his seedy tip along your insides and you whine at the loss of being so full. “promise me that when he’s fucking you, when touya makes you his bride a-and weds you, his pretty virgin bride…that you’ll think of me ‘n me alone.”

“i-i promise,” you murmur, playing with the baby hairs on the base of katsuki’s neck, looking up at him lovingly as you clench down on him at his claim— dripping sweet nectar down his balls.

only then does katsuki put his entire weight on you, jutting into you all at once, nearly breaking the bed as it hits the wall behind you over and over. his cock swells inside of you, close to bursting and cumming inside of you. with one, two, three more calculated thrusts you’re thrown over the edge— the dopamine high of your orgasm crashing over your brain while you squirt clear streams over his lower tummy and cock.

he’s right behind you, following the stream of your sweet essence that nearly forces him out of you. thick, hot ropes of cum paint your insides belonging to the man that you love, filling you up to the brim. katsuki collapses on top of you with one last kiss, your foreheads pressed together and the crude mix of your arousal leaking from your tiny hole, onto your shared sheets.

“i don’t…i don’t hate you,” you stutter once both of your breathing has evened out, teary eyed because you can’t say that you love him again. it’ll make it too real, neither of you can have that if you’re promised to touya and bakugou has promised to take you back to the ruthless future king.

“niether do i,” katsuki breathes back, wiping your eyes with the pad of his thumb, using a delicate touch. 

he couldn’t help it, loving you but at least he got to…just for tonight.

[dotomuses]

sagau p1 : miss miko's mumbles. he/they for reader, but no anatomy or dni. tw: none.. tevyat is kinda mean to reader but thats all lol.

💌 no actual reader content right now... just a small something to get started, somewhat an insight on tevyat's views on the reader?

" a hidden source of ancient knowledge, scrolls shoved deep within the akademiya's restricted shelves, gathering dust, painting colourful tales of a primeval deity.

a deity unlike the archons, unlike the dragons and unlike the scattered minor gods and beasts of tevyat, a deity who held no significance to tevyat's intricate laws. a deity with no magnificent creatures to call his own, no powers or blessings to give to kneeling worshippers, yet a deity whose swiftest glance struck the mortals of tevyat tongue-tied and reeling.

"let us adorn you with our flowers!" bellowed the trunks of sumeru's towering thorned trees, "let us sing to you!" whispered mondstadt's wailing, whining gales, "rest on our shores," mewled fontaine's raging currents "or drift on our currents, and let us take you far away from all...". inazuma's thunder cried and screamed, loud as a nursery of hungry children, hungry for the god's attention. natlan's rumbling rocks fell from their perches as avalanches, running like babes wanting to be coddled by their mothers, into the arms of the god. snezhnaya's unwavering snow storms fell and fell, adorning themselves with the prettiest snow flakes, just for a look, the lightest praise, from the god.

the deity's devotees were all children of violence, creatures of doom, beings of hate. but to him, they were the scorned, the regretted, the rejected. they were the most precious of all, the worthiest of his stories, the likeliest to trust in his well-crafted chronicles.

he spoke of worlds outside tevyat, worlds overcome with cold, never receding snow and ice. worlds made of gargantuan ships, each city a large cabin, housing pelicans of metal, and people of stone. worlds where reality and expectation went hand in hand, singing songs of people's dreams, bubbling with emotion, joy and grief.

most of all, he spoke of revelation. to him, to his creatures, to his loveliest of children, it was the solid truth, the undoubted phrases that left the tongues of the cosmos higher than celestia itself. but to the archons, to the people, to every other creature, they were a fraud. a liar, who insulted the archons with his reign over their wicked beasts, who wished nothing more that to provoke celestia's wrath, and be stricken so far into the abyss, he himself would someday become one with it. his hymns stitched words, words that revealed the truth of this world, the truth that-"

yae miko laughed lightly, covering her mouth with her hand, pink pigment shining brightly against her nails. "what a lovely story you've made up for me, traveler, paimon," she began, watching the pair carefully, "paimon makes the loveliest story teller... but do tell me what set you out to recite this fascinating little thing." she added, an eyebrow arched elegantly.

paimon scowled, her little face scrunching into displeasure. "miss yae miko!" she stomped her foot in the air, "we didn't make it up! traveler already said so! she said we got it from sumeru! and won't you answer our question?!" she cawed, pointing dutifully at her companion, who smiled sheepishly.

yae hummed thoughtfully, a finger to her chin "do remind me of your question little paimon" she feigned a small yawn, covering her lips politely, "i'm afraid you've bored me asleep with this one, i can barely recall anything..." paimon looked ready to blow a fuse, ridiculously oblivious to yae's teasing, her rubber heart being prodded at, and easily provoked with yae's taunts.

"we'd asked if any of this makes sense to you miss yae, any familiarity?" traveler began, her voice lofty and slightly strained from unuse, "we've tried with other companions, but not even the akademiya scholars have anything to say." yae miko smiled, her shiny canines concealed, eyes shut in a relaxed manner.

"i'm afraid not traveler, but if nobody seems to recognize this odd 'deity' of yours, why are you so persistent on finding somebody who does?" yae enquired, pressing her lips together in a thin line, shaking her head "perhaps they're just fiction you know... another dashed, yet rather thorough attempt i must confess, at a bestseller."

paimon sagged midair, like a suspended sack of rice. "all this trouble for nothing?" she wailed, "i told you we should have called quits after al haitham said he knew nothing! and i told you we should've called quits again when faruzan shooed us away!" paimon scolded, crossing her arms at the traveler. her companion only raised her hands in surrender, smiling apologetically, and turning back to the other woman facing her.

"thank you for your help miss yae" traveler spoke, pressing her palms together, "we're sorry to have bothered you with something so trivial..." yae miko only molly-coddled her in response, shaking her head left and right. "it's quite alright dear, you've provided me with quite a bit of entertainment... be off now, i'm sure you have much work to get to."

she eyed the parchment paimon read out of so enthusiastically, hesitating from the probable absurdity of the question she thought of asking. "tell me traveler, would you mind if i held on to this for a while? perhaps we could make use of it at the publishing house..." paimon opened her mouth to refuse like a little gentle lady, adamant on keeping all their travel's treasures to themselves, only for the traveler to respond first. "i don't see any use for it, i suppose you could hang on to it miss yae."

yae miko brightened, eyes gleaming happily at her conquest "i'm very glad traveler, you've done me a great favour," she said, taking the scroll from her "now, i shan't hold you back any longer. do visit!"

traveler nodded, waving goodbye as paimon tugged on her scarf, yowling "i told you so!"s, "you should have listened!"s and an accusatory "why did you give it away?". yae lifted her hand in farewell, which dropped solemnly as soon as the traveler was out of sight.

she flourished the paper open, a sudden, uncharacteristic scowl on her face, painting her lovely features in disgust and scorn. "even in exile you bother us all, charlatan." she murmured to herself.

she ought to burn it, and throw its ashes to the fish, but held back. the lovely swirls of the letters mesmerising her, drawled along the page in a dance, elegant beyond words. her frustration only grew, chanting that no matter how much beauty liars weaved in their words, they were still lies.

and no matter how beautiful a liar was, they were still a liar, and would remain one until repentance.

and (name) would never repent.

💌 gahh i feel kinda lame.. its been a while since ive written anything and speedran this on 13% charge. had a dillema choosing between faruzan and yae for this intro piece, but i hope its turned out ok. ill try uploading the next part soon. bye bye!

[risuola]

REGULAR PEOPLE — F. READER x GETO SUGURU

He was a part of you, always will be, stained permanently with fragment of your heart and love.

cw: angst, yearning, mentions of crime — 2,1k words

a/n: so, I've seen a fanart some time ago, showing Satoru sleeping soundly at Suguru's temple after the incident and since that time I couldn't shake off the idea of his closest friends visiting him even after he left, so there it is. ❥

There’s something endearing about the late evenings in winter and this one held an unusually warm embrace, despite the low temperature and the patterns your breath painted in the crisp air with every breath you took. Snowflakes still twirled about, but lost their grip, falling slower and more freely with each passing turn. The soft sound of crunch filled in your exposed ears as you slowly moved through the snow-covered walkways, careful not to slip. Sometimes you wondered, how young people were running over the icy paths with ease whilst you and your winter boots barely carried you on the frozen alleys, but that, you decided, will forever remain a mystery.

The sun had gone down few hours ago, the night was still young, but the moon was the brightest it’s been in weeks, casting a gentle glow over the barren streets of Tokyo. This was a special night and though slightly more chilly than usual, you couldn’t bring yourself to be bothered by the sharp, stinging pain in the tips of your ears and fingers. It was temporary, you knew that inside, and life had forced you to endure much worse than the slight dip in temperature. You pushed through the thick layer of crisp air and slowly, a faint scent of something sweet filled in your nostrils.

It was soothing, in a way, to breathe in the subtle scent of hot chocolate that you knew oh so well, because only one person you got to meet in your life was able to concoct such a mixture of flavors that you’d recognize it at the end of the world and further. The note of cocoa, though being nothing but a ghost carried by the languid winds, somehow brought warm into your otherwise frozen bones, making the tedious trip more bearable and the way too thin layer of clothes you wore somehow more protective. Maybe, you thought, the high city architecture got you used to mellowed temperatures and each time you get yourself surprised how drastically different the air feels outside the tall built of Tokyo. The concrete jungle blocking the icy whiffs with ease and once you stepped out of it, you realized once again, how different it feels with just trees and open space around you.

You pushed through the snow, pulled in and tempted by the sweet promise of chocolate and vanilla, with thoughts already deep within what’s to come, you allowed your eyes to take in the view that slowly unraveled before you. The temple, so beautiful, with all the grace stood quietly in the midst of the winter landscape, surrounded by tall, now completely bare trees, hugged by the thick cottony layer of snow. The building, made entirely out of wood suited the picture, with its traditional architecture blending effortlessly with the surrounding icy winds and frozen nature. Each time you saw it, you couldn’t help but admire the intricate and beautiful carvings of dragons and tigers, the detailed branches of cherry blossoms and all of the patterns that decades ago someone sculpted out by hand.

It stood proudly, the temple inviting with it’s warm lights coming from inside. The safe haven from the harsh winter weather and for you, a place bearing a soothing sense of serenity and peace, despite all of the logical reasons.

“There you are,” a voice, so honey-like and familiar, dressed in a gentle smile and soft eyes made you forget about the laboring trip you just subjected yourself to. “I’m sure you’re freezing, come inside.”

You smiled and quickly pushed off the outerwear, the snow-covered boots and jacket now rested near the doors as you followed the tall figure onto the floor above the entrance. The cozy warmth of the interiors slowly seeped into your body, along with the well-known presence of a man before you.

“Alone this time?” He asked while offering you a seat in the conjoined dining and living area. You settled your weight gently onto the plush cushions of the sofa, bathing yourself in the golden haze of the fireplace in front of it. You could feel how the heat slowly thawed out your limbs and relaxed your muscles from the strain of walking in the freezing cold, soothing you from head to toe and you knew, deep down, it was the flames that enveloped you in such comfortable aura, but you’d swear that it was your friend that made it so much more pleasant.

“Satoru couldn’t make it,” you replied finally, inhaling the thick, sweet scent of chocolate that soon enough landed in your hands. The cup, dark green in color, was filled in nearly to the brim with the hot liquid of gods, the special recipe the man mastered years and years ago. The perfect measurement of cocoa and fresh vanilla beans, spiced up with some magic only he knew. Divine concoction of flavors and perfect balance between the thick and thin consistency; a drink sweet and yet sophisticated.

“That’s a shame,” he smiled. His eyes were taking you in, admiring in silence the way your features were illuminated by the dim, golden hues, how the lights and shadows danced on top of your skin. He found your flushed from cold cheeks adorable and though he wasn’t cold at all before you visited his temple, now he felt the warmth of familiarity spreading throughout his body.

“A shame indeed,” you nodded, chuckling with softness as you allowed your lips to dip in the hot treat. The first taste that spread out over your tongue and coated your throat with thick layer of goodness made you moan in pleasure. A sound quiet and gentle, carried by your breath but clear enough to express the gratitude you felt. “How have you been, Suguru?”

It’s been seven years since everything happened – the horrible spiral of events that eventually led to one of your best friends to go down the path of a wanted criminal. You didn’t notice the way he got consumed by thoughts and depression, you didn’t see how the light inside of him slowly but surely was burning out and for that, you think, you’ll never stop blaming yourself. And now, each time you reminiscent his eyes, the sadness that crept up his golden irises and the subtle changes in his voice that, as you think of them in perspective, were way too obvious to miss, it makes it hard to keep going. But you do. After everything that took place, you wished to keep him and yet, you weren’t ready to give up of Satoru. They both, so close to your heart, were equally important and that day, the one that now you recall as beautifully tragic, when your friends clashed in front of the fast-food restaurant parting their ways, you decided to do everything you could to keep them with you.

You knew about murder, you knew it all. It was Yaga who told you and Satoru about the events and you remember vividly how desperately you held your white-haired friend’s hand in order to prevent him from harming himself in anger. You rid yourself from every question that burned your soul. You forced your mind to neglect the concept of Suguru committing a crime and reached out to him not long after the scene, that now you jokingly call the infamous kfc breakup. He was a part of you, always will be, stained permanently with fragment of your heart and love you had for the boys in your life. The array of cherished moments created a thin veil that covered all of his misdeeds, concealing them just enough for you to look past them and enjoy his presence because each time you saw him you knew it might be the last time. Because Suguru Geto had a death sentence and it was a matter of time before the jujutsu higher ups will get fed up with the accumulation of little crimes and sentence him with the on-sight order.

It was, in a sense, meeting the death. You thought about it sometimes, usually during the sleepless nights. It was a weight you carried on top of your shoulders, the heavy ballast of regret and sorrow that you’d wish to have vanished and yet you knew, those feelings will never leave your mind. And sometimes you wondered about all the different what ifs, about everything that you could have done to rewrite the history only to save your friend from the way his days are numbered. It hurt you so deeply, every time you looked into his eyes, the beautiful golden irises that now seemed at peace with everything that happened.

“I’ve been doing fine,” Geto replied, sipping his own green tea – the gentle hint of peach noticeable and so undeniably him – and following carefully every movement you made, cementing the image into his mind because if there was anything he wished to cherish, it was a picture of you.

You sat there comfortably, listening to the calming melody of his voice as he was briefing through the last few weeks you couldn’t see him. Humming from time to time, you took your time to enjoy the hot chocolate while he talked about the girls he was raising. The twins he saved that one day in past, the girls that then were just barely five now were thriving teenagers and you always admired the way he managed to raise them despite his own moral struggles and young age. You met Mimiko and Nanako not long after he left and you’d lie if you said you didn’t love them from the very first sight.

And then, he touched on the people he was surrounding himself with, his family of sorcerers that he cared for deeply. Not a word in his speech was regarding his plans and wrongdoings and that’s how it looked for years now. You knew what he was on and about, you’ve got reports from every odd event that was taking place around Japan and you knew perfectly which of them to connect to your friend, but that’s not something you wished to talk about. When meeting him, you flowed as if the universe was different, oblivious, kind. Each time you and Satoru visit his temple, not one of you mentions the elephant that despite everything, always stands in the corner of the room. But it was fine, you believed. As long as you had him, all of it was fine.

Once he finished, you took your turn in talking, catching up with everything that happened to you and Gojo lately. The pride you have in your students, the new café that opened near your apartment and the absurd amount of training you were required to go through in order to meet the expectations of the higher ups, despite you being semi-special grade. They’ll never be satisfied with you, you assumed.

“And Satoru? How’s he doing?” The man questioned, soon after you concluded your story.

“He’s fine too. Busy, as always,” you replied, chuckling at the thought. “You can probably imagine him whining about it.”

“Bet I can,” Suguru joined the laughter, the sound of it brightening the dark night. “Maybe next time he’ll come with you.”

“I’ll make sure of that,” you promised, smiling softly and Geto could have sworn he never saw anything more beautiful.

There was, always, an unspoken feeling that connected the hearts of you and him, a love platonic in its roots but with years and years of yearning, you realized that it always was more than just a deep kind of friendship. Not once you talked about it, it just hung in the air every time you shared the time and you cherished every minute you had with him, hurting inside because you knew it so clearly that there was no way for you to let it all out in this lifetime and universe. And you knew that one day, you’ll see him dead and gone. You knew that one day, he’ll take the part of your heart and leave with it. You wondered, sometimes, if there was a possibility for you to become a collateral damage to whatever he was planning for the future. Would he be able to kill you, out of all people, to reach the goal he wished for?

“What’s on your mind?” He asked; the tone warm and silky, comforting and easing to the knotted thoughts in your head.

“Sometimes I wonder if there is a universe where we could be just regular people in love,” you replied, keeping your gaze on the burning flames in the fireplace. “With no curses, no grades, just plain people. I wonder if in the world like this, you could love me the way I love you.”

“I don’t know,” he said, humming at the thought and he reached his hand to gently brush the top of his pointer finger against your cheek. “I don’t know if there’s another universe where we’re just regular, plain people but I know there’s no world where I wouldn’t love you.”

[emerald-cloud23]

There is nothing I find more wholesome than the ninja ignoring the origins of the others teammates. Sure, in the beginning with Lloyd they are questioning it a little bit but that doesn't last very long. This team is so fun and the new additions to it are also so fun. It doesn't matter where they're from, how they've experienced life until this moment. They can all be a ninja. None of them are judging each other for it. Heck, even their personalities don't matter much-- They. Don't. Care. They. Don't. Judge.

A guy that is actually a robot and lived inside of a tree in a snow covered forest.

A guy that lived in a junkyard (and was adopted but is there actually any evidence (beside Skybound) where he tells the others?).

A guy and his sister who hardly remember their parents and ran a blacksmith shop.

A guy who's mom got ill when he was a kid, upon her passing years later had a falling out with his father and ran away, lying to be doing what his dad wanted him to do.

A guy that's the kid of, practically, a monster and was abandoned by his mother when he was too young to remember her.

A boy who lost his parents in the merge.

A girl who ran away from home right after the merge (with severe transcoding <3).

A girl that was raised away from civilization by a dragon and a robot.

[jacaeryslover]

RAISED BY WOLVES: a jon snow fanfic.

you were raised as one of the starks, but the blood of the dragon can't be tamed. and a certain bastard knows that very well.

before you read: i wrote this from memory, so maybe the timeline is a little messed up, i will rewatch the first season soon.

a big city... you imagined your home looking through the big old window, snow slowly finding its place on top of the floor and the big old trees surrounding the castle, "winter is coming" lord eddard stark often said, and as time passed, it became true. winter is already here.

a targaryen alone in the world is a horrible thing, and you were alone, miles away from your home, and miles away from your siblings, if they were still alive.

at winterfell you and jon snow were always together, and it was no surprise to the northeners, you were both outsiders. he was a bastard and you were a dragon, you had no place there. and with time, you and jon bonded over that, being together, it felt like you two weren't alone in this world after all.

the north often pitied the lady targaryen, before a princess of the realm, you had everything, you used to be the embodiment of what every little girl dreamed of. and now you had nothing to lay dead on, nothing but your empty and useless title.

growing up, you were raised as one of the starks. the guardian of the north made a promise to king robert, instead of killing the child he would raise her as one of them, hoping that she would bend the knee later on.

"your grace, it's just a babe" eddard remarked, his honor tempting his duty.

"a targaryen babe, eddard. she will be a threat. every targaryen is." the now king demanded.

"let me take her to the north, your grace. i will raise her and take her as one of the starks, winterfell will be her home. and in the future, she will show loyalty."

after hearing his friends words, the king finally accepted, giving a last warning to his dearest friend, the only one he cared for.

"alright ned, for our friendship. but i'll tell you friend, that everything that girl does becomes your responsability. and if some day she rebels, you will be a traitor to the realm too. and i will take your head for it."

—

ned kept his promise, and as the years passed, you grew as a northener and a stark. the long silver hair you beared adorned your shoulders, shoulders that were soon covered in a fur cloth, and made space for your falling and well-kept braid. your eyes a beautiful lilac, one unfamiliar to the northeners gaze, and the cause of the many looks of suspicion that made you feel uneasy or bad about yourself, like you didn't belong there.

every single one them looked at you that way, everyone except him, except them.

if you had a choice, you would choose them. you would choose to stay like this forever, the sound of the snow below your feet, the youngest of the starks running and playing, the loving stares of the lord and lady of winterfell, and the shared stares of one particular boy. you would choose this life over again, but to your despair, everything good has to end.

01.

the arrival of the royal family threw everyone off guard, the entire stark family gathered at the entrace to welcome the king and queen of the seven kingdoms. of course, jon snow wasn't there, and you weren't either. the lady of winterfell and wife of lord eddard, catelyn stark, thought that a bastard and a targaryen were not what the king wished to see upon his arrival at the north, and she was probably right.

the two outsiders were together while watching the stark family throw a feast to the king and queen. queen cersei was beautiful, you thought. though her childrens resemblance to her were there, you thought that the kings genes were falling behind, as their children beared beautiful blonde hair, and shared most of their features with their mother.

"do you think he still hates you and your family?" jon asked, eyes set on the king eating his food. just as he finishes his question, he turns to look at you.

"maybe, probably... i don't know" you answered him, noticing how his eyes reflected his hurting, you knew how lady stark treated jon, she made sure he knew he will never be one of the starks, no matter how much blood he shared with her trueborn children, catelyn hated him. and this type of acts, like not allowing him to share the stark table at the feast, were the ones that hurted him the most, always reminding him that he was a snow, before a stark.

"y'know, if we were there, we couldn't eat as much as we are right now. at least me" you said, hoping to get a smile from him, making him smile was now your favorite hobby, and your full time job. "they would say it's not much lady-like of me".

he offered you his most sincere smile, and just like that, with that simple comment, you had made his night more bearable, you made him forget the hurting that causes being born a bastard. and he thought to himself, that he was grateful for having you in his life.

"well, lady-like or not, i'm grateful for having you as my friend, princess" he said with a sly smile, his eyes shining brighter every second he spends looking at your lilac ones.

"i told you before, i'm not a princess jon, not anymore." him teasing you with your old title was not uncommon, you told him to drop it, but apparently he didn't like to listen to you.

after finishing your food, you decided to go to your chambers, leaving jon with his uncle benjen. you changed your dress for your nightgown, and decided to end the day there, closing your eyes, to begin a new day tomorrow.

the sun took his place early in the morning, and after some minutes you decided it was time to begin your day. after changing your clothes and walking towards the halls, you heard lady sansa and lady arya talking with their father. you couldn't hear much, but you heard enough, they were talking about travelling to king's landing. your old home. your familys home.

and of course, you would ask to join.

02.