NASA Released The Clearest Images Of Neptune’s Rings In Over 30 Years.

Can't wait for part 3🤩🤩🤩

holding out (just for you) [2] || katsuki b.

pairing: dragon!bakugo katsuki x reader

word count: 13.2k+

mentions: female reader, fantasy au, descriptions of injuries, blood, not edited!!, aged up chars (24+), sfw, second pov, part of the bnha big bang collab!

with art drawn by the amazing @sdrawberrii-mochii !! here is a link to the original post (give it some love!!!!)

part one

The storm was finally over.

You stood at the mouth of the cave, squinting at the sunlight that poked its way through the remaining puffs of white clouds. It gave everything a warm feel, bathing the surrounding forest and body of the mountain in shades of honey and nectar. There was this fresh, dewy feel to everything that made you feel like a newborn experiencing life for the first time. You honestly never felt so relieved before at seeing the cerulean of the sky. There was not a single hint of the thunderclouds from the storm and you hoped there wouldn’t be for a very long time. You inhaled deeply, then exhaled in a quiet sigh and turned around. Bakugo lifted his head slightly to look at you and started shifting as though he was going to get up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” You held up your hands at him with wide eyes and moved closer to him. You gestured at him to sit back down, though he only stared at you impatiently. A huff escaped your lips. “You should not be moving so much! You’re still ridiculously injured! You could irritate your wounds even more and all the healing I’d done would be a waste!”

Bakugo snarled and bared his teeth at you, displeased. You rolled your eyes. “I know, it’s annoying. But you really shouldn’t move too much. Or at least stay on the mountain until I get back.” He huffed some smoke at you and shifted again to start heading towards the cave entrance. You could do nothing but frown as you skirted around him—after all, who were you to halt a grown ass dragon in his steps? Only, before he could get too far, his hind leg crumpled, unable to support his weight. He made an irritated growl as he sank to the floor, the powerful muscles of his legs tensing before you. 

You clicked your tongue and hovered around him, eyes darting at his wounds to make sure they weren’t bleeding again. “See? Just stay put, please? I’m gonna head back to my cottage for some more salves that can properly treat your wounds.” You turned around and jogged back to the mouth of the cave so you could hoist your bag onto your shoulders. You’d already checked to make sure you had everything—including the poor remains of your jacket. You glanced at Bakugo over your shoulders. His teeth were bared in what looked like a pained grimace, though you could also practically feel the frustration coming off of him in waves.

“I shouldn’t take too long,” you told him as you stepped out into the sunlight. “Get some rest in the meantime.” 

Before he could respond, you started your descent down the mountain, carefully placing your steps on the rocks that were still a bit wet and slippery from the storm. You had to admit, it was nice being out in the open, finally able to feel the sun’s warmth along your arms and face. There was a warm breeze drifting through the air that was such a large contrast from the battering winds of the storm. You did your best to climb down the mountain at a quick and efficient pace, but it still took you a while before you reached your cottage. 

And what you saw made your shoulders sag, your heart dropping to your feet.

Your garden was ruined. 

This region of the world never had a thunderstorm last for that long, so you’d never bothered to prepare for it. You’d been hoping that the mountain would take on most of the brute force of the storm and help shield your cottage from the high winds and pouring rain. But apparently it didn’t—or at least, it didn’t block most of the storm. 

You grimaced as you stepped along the branch-littered stone path in front of your cottage until you reached the edge of your garden and stared sorrowfully at the ruins of all your plants. They were scattered everywhere, uprooted by the winds. There were giant puddles of water seeping into the dirt along with massive branches from the trees surrounding the area. You winced at the sight of a few branches crushing the poor herbs you’d been so carefully cultivating. Wet smears of soggy leaves and drooping stems peered sadly at you from a waterlogged grave. 

It would take you weeks, maybe even months to get your garden back to its original state. The magical plants and herbs you’d been growing would be the toughest to take care of, seeing that some of them were foreign. They just weren’t things you could find out in the wild or on the mountain so easily—you’d have to go looking for a shopkeep that’d sell you the seeds. You might even have to take a trip out of Yuuei if you really wanted to find some of them. You bent down and gently ran a few fingers along a wilted flower, then stood up and let out a long-suffering sigh. 

You kind of wanted to cry, and maybe you did let a few tears slip at the loss of something you’d been caring for ever since you moved to this quaint little village. But you had work to do. You couldn’t linger for long. 

Still, you allowed yourself a short moment to grieve. 

Wearily rubbing at your face, you turned to head over to your cottage, stepping over puddles and branches in your way. If you looked up at the roof, you could see a few thick branches perched precariously on top of it. Great. You didn’t know how you would reach those, but they were a problem for later. You toed off your muddy boots to leave outside, unlocked, and then opened your door. Your eyes swept around the room, looking to see if anything was awry.

You supposed you should count yourself lucky that you’d kept the windows closed, so there wasn’t any obvious mess of the potted plants near them, or the dried out herbs you had strung along the walls. There were a few puddles seeping into the wooden floor that you frowned at, and upon looking up at the ceiling you could see a few wet patches where water was leaking through. None of your books appeared to be damaged, thankfully, and the table stacked with salves and creams was fine as well.

It wasn’t until you walked into your bedroom to check it out that you noticed there was a decently-sized hole in the ceiling. You craned your head back as you looked up at it. You could see a bit of the blue sky through it, though it was mostly obscured by one of those fucking branches you saw on top of your roof. 

“Fantastic,” you grumbled as you glared at the hole as though it had personally offended you—and it had!—before you cast your gaze at the floor. There were wood chippings and some stray leaves scattered about the nice little rug you had in your room. An obvious wet spot was on the carpet as well, though that would be easier to deal with than all the other things. Your bed against the leftmost wall looked fine, and as you walked over to the giant bookshelf you had against the right wall, you saw that everything upon it was fine as well. The shelves were stacked with more plants and jars of creams and liquids, so at least you knew you had enough to last you for a while as you tended to your garden—and that wasn’t including the small closet you had in your room that housed a mix of your clothes and some more medicinal supplies like needles and syringes. 

You set your bag down on the small desk next to your bookshelf so you could rummage around in it to pull out all the plants you’d gathered on the mountain and store them in their proper places. The bottle of ink and quill were also set on your desk along with your little journal. That stupid rock-hard pastry you didn’t get to eat got thrown in the trash. You left your canteen and the single Nadir flower in your bag. As for the ruins of your jacket… You grabbed them and tossed them next to the fireplace in the living room.  

You really, really wanted to lay down at this point, but you couldn’t. There were still things to be done. But first things first, you really needed a bath. You’d been stuck in that cave for who-knows-how-long—you felt absolutely disgusting. Hopefully getting cleaned up would make you feel better as well. 

And it did. A nice, cold bath made you feel refreshed and more energetic than before. The fatigue you’d been feeling was eradicated—if temporarily—so you at least felt that you could survive the rest of the day without collapsing in a heap. You bustled around in the kitchen to grab something to eat—bread and a savory spread you’d made not too long ago that hadn’t spoiled yet—and drink. You slowly nibbled at it as you watered your inside plants, took stock of your inventory, and made a list of all the seeds and plants you’d need for your garden. You mopped up the puddles of water on the floor and cleaned out the carpet in your room before hanging it to dry outside. You didn’t know what to do about the hole, but you figured you’d just see if you could place a tarp or something over it later. 

At one point, you eyed the materials you used to stitch up wounds of people who needed it, contemplating if they were things you could use on Bakugo. But really… you didn’t think you could. He had too many scales in the way—it would be too difficult to even attempt to stitch him up. You’d have to stick to magic salves and your own healing magic—which was, admittedly, a new experience for you since you tended to not use your magic on people—but you figured you’d be fine. 

As you prepared your bag for a trip into the village, you found yourself pausing at the bookshelf in your room and scanning it for that little mythical creature book you had. It was crammed somewhere on the bottom shelf, dusty with misuse. You slid it out and blew the dust off of it. It was an unassuming little thing, with a drawing of a phoenix on its dark cover. You stashed it in your bag to reread later. 

With one more check to ensure you had everything, you stepped outside and slipped on the same boots you’d worn to the mountain, locking the door behind you as you set off. Twigs and branches crunched under your feet as you walked. You had to dodge around quite a few muddy puddles on your way and once you entered the village itself, you saw that it had not been spared from the storm’s wrath either. You looked around as people bustled about, tending to their houses and shops that looked like they’d gotten flooded out. Well… at least you didn’t have to worry about that. Just staring at all the deep pools of water around the village was making you wince in sympathy. 

You ended up at Denki’s pub again, which was—somehow—open. 

“Hey!” he greeted you as you stepped inside and looked around. He didn’t have many customers, though you did see a familiar face sitting at one of the barstools at the back of the pub. Izuku perked up once he turned around to see who Denki was talking to, then gave you an eager little wave.

You waved back as you walked closer and took a seat next to the freckled man. “Hey guys. What’s new?”

“Apart from the crazy storm we just had?” Izuku questioned as he tilted his head at you. 

“Yeah that was wild!” Denki agreed as he leaned forward against the bartop. “I was lucky all I got were a few leaks!”

“A few leaks huh,” you said dryly. Your tone made both men look at you questioningly and you crossed your arms as you stared at Denki. “You wouldn’t believe what happened to me.” 

He was almost hesitant as he asked, “...What… happened?”

You sniffed and pulled your bag off your shoulder so you could set it in your lap and open it. “Well, a little birdy told me there were Zenith flowers on Kamino sometime before the storm started...” 

Izuku looked at you in alarm, his green eyes widening. “You weren’t—!!”

“I was,” you drawled, relishing in the panicked way Denki was looking at you. “And guess what I found on Kamino.” You opened one of the little pockets in your bag and carefully pulled out the cerulean flower from it before setting it on the bartop in front of you.

Denki’s eyes darted down to look at it before his face twisted in confusion. “A… Zenith flower?” 

You shook your head and opened your mouth to respond, but Izuku beat you to the punch. “Oh nooo, those are Nadir flowers aren’t they?” He pointed at the leaves. “Zeniths typically have heart-shaped leaves while Nadirs have oval ones. Those small red thorns on its stem are also another characteristic. They’re extremely poisonous!” 

“That’s right,” you said as you gave Denki a pointed look. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” he blurted out, reaching out so he could clasp your hands between his own larger ones and look at you with watery eyes. “You were probably trapped on Kamino, weren’t you? Shit, I’m really, really sorry!” 

You cracked and let out a sigh before gently squeezing Denki’s hands. “Relax, it wasn’t your fault. I was just messing with you. Slightly.” When all he did was pout at you, you gave him a small smile. “Seriously, I’m kidding. There was no way for you to know there was a storm coming—or that I’d go the same day.”

“That was some extremely bad timing,” Izuku said as he looked at you worriedly. “What did you do?”

“Camped out in a cave.” You shrugged and slipped your hands from Denki’s so you could pat him on the head. As you opened your mouth to mention the unexpected companion you had while you were in the cave, you found yourself hesitating. You… kind of wanted to keep Bakugo a secret. Maybe that made you selfish, but you didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell your friends there’s an injured dragon on Mount Kamino. They could keep a secret, sure, but you knew Denki tended to blabber from time to time—especially once he had a few drinks. You didn’t want to imagine the type of crowd that kind of information would bring to Yuuei. So you settled on withholding it—at least until Bakugo was healed enough that he could fly away or fight if needed (though hopefully it wouldn’t come to that).

You changed gears and instead said, “No idea how long I was there for, though.” 

“The storm lasted a few days. Almost three, I think,” Izuku told you, a frown splayed across his lips. Damn, had it really been that long? He peered closer at your face. “You look tired. Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine and dandy, don’t worry about it!” you said cheerfully as you grabbed the lone Nadir table on the bartop and carefully stashed it back into your bag. “Sleeping in a cave just wasn’t exactly comfortable, you know?” 

“Aaghhh!!! I still feel so bad!!” Denki wailed, collapsing onto the bartop dramatically so he could press his face against its cool surface. 

You rolled your eyes in good nature. “If you really wanna make it up to me you could give me another pastry. I never got to eat the last one I got.” 

At that, Denki sprung up, a new vigor to his movements as he looked at you determinedly. “You bet! I’ll give you the best tasting pastry this village has to offer!” With that, he ran off to one of the backrooms behind the bar so he could likely make you a fresh pastry. You weren’t complaining if he was putting that much effort into a simple order. 

“So, Izuku”—you turned to look at him—“what’re you doing here? I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s the hand?” 

“Ah, it’s doing better!” he told you happily as he turned in his chair and rested his right arm on the bartop. You looked down and reached out to hold his hand, running your fingers along the rough, pink scars that decorated his palm and fingers. “I, um, I’d str— strained it a couple times, but uh, I’m getting better! At not hurting myself! Anymore!” You glanced up to see him fidgeting around, his eyes darting to look at different points in Denki’s pub. He always got a bit… nervous, when people touched him there. You gave him a soft smile when he finally looked back at you and he returned it, albeit a bit sheepishly. “I’d been wandering around the village to help folks out with repairs after the storm. The pub was open when I passed by so I decided to check on Denki and here we are!” 

You hummed and flipped his hand over so you could tap at a thin slash near his wrist. “That’s new. What was it this time?” 

Izuku nervously laughed and gently tugged his hand from your grip so he could run it through his curly, green hair. “Ahh, can’t get anything past you, huh?” His voice got quieter when he said, “Sword injury. Again.” 

You gave his hand a pat and released him so you could brace yourself against the bartop. You didn’t know the specifics of what he did on a day-by-day basis, but you weren’t one to pry all too much. Your eyes lingered on the golden sword hilt that stuck out from the belt around his waist. He carried it with him everywhere. “Were you practicing? Or was it an actual fight this time?” You nudged him teasingly to let him know you were just messing around. 

“Ah, it— it was just a bad block on my part!” he stammered, waving his hands in front of him rapidly. “Sweets— she thought I would block it, um, properly, but I fumbled and, well— She apologized a lot!” 

Denki took that moment to stick his head through the kitchen doorway. “Tell Sweets I miss her!! When’s she coming back to work?! It gets lonely running this place by myself!”

“Weren’t you the one who told her to take a few weeks off for their honeymoon?” you asked Denki wryly. 

He spluttered a bit. “Well! Yes, but— Never mind, going back to work now.” And with that he disappeared back into the kitchen backroom just as quickly as he had appeared. 

A small smile still lingered on your face as you turned to look back at a flushed Izuku. “How is Sweets doing, anyways? That rash she had isn’t still spreading, is it?” 

“She’s fine now! That salve you gave her worked wonders! Oh, speaking of”—he perked up considerably and looked at you eagerly—”can I ask you what you used to make it? I just— I don’t think I’ve ever seen one work like that before. And it was a different texture from what you typically use. Plus the aroma—”

The two of you ended up talking about the different medicinal plants you use and the ways you combine them into ointments and salves. Izuku always liked to ask questions anytime you saw him either in the village or when he dropped by your cottage for treatment. You didn’t mind—you thought it was a bit endearing how curious he was. 

Denki eventually returned after a short while and gave you a fancy-looking frosted bun with ‘sorry :(’ piped on top of it. You couldn’t help but to crack a wide smile at it. You gave him a pat on the head that made him lighten up and hopefully get over the unnecessary guilt he felt. Seriously, you told him, it’s fine. You chatted with them both for a while more as you polished off the pastry, then got up and rolled your shoulders back.

“Well, this was nice, but I have to go. Things to do, people to heal,” you told them as you slung your bag over your shoulder. 

“Come back soon!” Denki gave you a thumbs up with a sheepish smile. “And let us know if you need help with anything.” 

“Yeah!” Izuku agreed as he looked up at you. “Did your cottage get damaged by the storm? I know you’re in the forest, so there’s a lot of risk there.” 

You cringed slightly and thought back to your ruined garden and the hole in your roof. “Yeah, my garden got totaled and I have to do some repairs. I’ll let you guys know—I have a bunch of organizational stuff to do first.” They nodded and waved their goodbyes as you walked out the pub and into the fresh air of the storm’s aftermath. People still milled about and you took a moment to look around. You should probably walk around and check to see if anyone got injured during the storm. You nodded to yourself and set off in a direction down a paved path, calling out greetings to some of the faces you recognized. 

But first, you needed to stop by the Butcher’s. 

You huffed as you crawled up a particularly slippery rock, the bag on your back weighing you down even more. You probably shouldn’t have bought so much meat from the Butcher, but well, you needed to bring something back for Bakugo. Admittedly, it likely wasn’t enough to satiate his entire hunger—he was a fully grown dragon, after all—but it was all you could do for now. Meat was expensive—you also couldn’t quite carry too much at a time up a bigass mountain. 

You stood up straight once you steadied your footing on the rock and looked up in the direction of the cave. You could just see the wide, gaping mouth of its entrance staring at you from atop the slope it sat on. You puffed out a breath of air and continued on, cursing when you stumbled on occasion or narrowly avoided a particularly mossy section of the rock you climbed over. 

Finally, you found yourself standing before the dark cave, panting slightly as you stared into it with the expectation that an irate dragon would huff a greeting at you.

Except, Bakugo wasn’t here. 

“Hello?” you called out, your voice echoing back at you as it bounced around deeper into the cave. You walked inside a bit, peering around and squinting into the darker areas of the cave in the hopes that you would see a familiar glint of gold or flash of crimson. But there was nothing. It was empty. You sighed and ran a weary hand down the front of your face. You didn’t know how he was able to pull himself from the cave in his obviously dire condition, but it shouldn’t have surprised you all too much. You would’ve been impressed—considering how injured he was—if you weren’t so worried about him having possibly reopened his wounds. It was a good thing you’d made a quick stop at your cottage to grab some salves and other materials you believed would help him heal faster—you weren’t entirely sure if they would work, but it was better to try than not, you supposed.

You knelt down around the area where you’d last seen him resting before you left. There was no visible blood on the ground—a good sign, of course, but it didn’t stop the worry and unease from swarming in your stomach like a hive of angry bees. You reached out and gently touched one of the lines of the scratchy Bakugo he had carved into the floor, then stood up with a deep sigh. 

Shit, you cursed as you walked back outside and stood at the edge of the slope. You held a hand over your eyes as you squinted and looked around for any trace of Bakugo. He couldn’t have gone far, right? Not with those injuries. At least, that was what you hoped. You were somewhat glad that the cave was high up on the mountain—it made it easier for you to look around below you. Grey rock with patches of green grass and moss stretched out for what looked like miles below you. There were some trees scattered here and there, but most were at the base of the mountain, where the forest was. Maybe you should walk around the mountain some more—just in case he was somewhere you couldn’t see from your position. 

You steadily made your way down the mountain at an angle, picking your way through some steep declines that had your heart stuttering whenever your boots slipped. After wandering about for what felt like hours, you finally climbed up onto a ledge that allowed you to see a small clearing in the near distance. It was a mix of rock and grass, though it looked flat enough that someone could probably build a hut there if they wanted. 

Right in the center of the clearing was Bakugo. Seeing him out in the sunlight was immensely different from when you were both in the cave. The light gleamed brightly off his scales, making him stick out from his surroundings like a sore thumb. The swirling black and tangerine markings along his body juxtaposed his golden vividness—their deepness made you feel like you could get sucked right into them. From your angle, you could see the left side of his head, but it appeared that he hadn’t noticed you just yet. You paused, taking a short break to catch your breath as you watched him curiously. 

There was a moment where it looked like he was concentrating on something. His large eyes were closed. The muscles along his back and legs were tensed and crouched—like he was on edge or about to spring into a fight. His head bowed forward and you didn’t dare release even the slightest of sounds as you watched him eventually huff out a plume of dark smoke. He opened his eyes—pupils slitted and tiny—and let out a low growl that you could hear from your position. 

He looks frustrated about something, you mused to yourself as he snapped his powerful jaws and let his tail whip to the side. The spikes along his back and neck bristled. Common sense was telling you not to approach the angry dragon, but you did anyway, starting the steady descent towards the clearing. 

Just as you landed on top of a particularly large boulder, you looked up to see Bakugo attempting something different. He extended out his wings—or well, attempted to. The muscles that comprised them shook as he tried to hold them out horizontally, but he couldn’t with how critical the wounds were on them. You frowned once you noticed the deep ruby blood that dripped steadily onto the grass from his wings, staining it. Great.

You finally called out to him just as he tried giving his wings a few experimental flaps, his thick legs tensing as though he was going to jump into the air. “Hey! What’re you doing?! I told you not to leave the cave!” 

Bakugo snapped his head in your direction, a snarl on his face as he watched you clamber down the boulder and land on the grassy part of the clearing. You made your way closer to him, ignoring the way he growled at you and snapped his jaws threateningly. You leveled him with an irate look, your hands on your hips. “I get it, you don’t wanna be here or whatever. But I told you not to move around too much or you’d risk reopening your wounds. And what did you do?” 

Bakugo made a deep snarling sound that was probably intended to intimidate you and turned so he could loom over you. He bared his teeth, his head hovering over your own in a way that made you crane your neck. If he was trying to make you cower in fear or run away, it wasn’t working. You pointed to his wings. “Look at all that blood. And I had just finished treating the infection too! It’s your own fault that your healing process is gonna take even longer now!” 

He growled and puffed smoke directly into your face before moving away. You waved a hand in front of your face to get rid of the caramel smell and jogged around him so you could stand in his way. His eyes swiveled down to look at you, his sharp teeth glinting like diamonds in the sunlight. “Where are you going? Sit down so I can look at your wings.” He chuffed and narrowed his eyes as though daring you to order him around again. You didn’t back down and instead crossed your arms. “I said sit down Bakugo. The quicker you comply, the quicker I can get to work on healing you. I’m sure those wounds hurt.”

He was so fucking stubborn. You didn’t relent with your glare, not until he let out a deep clicking sound and reluctantly settled on the ground. His tail whipped behind him, nearly catching your leg had you not stepped to the side to avoid it. You rolled your eyes at his behavior. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You just got another deep click in return. 

You pulled your bag off your shoulder and squatted on the ground so you could pull out the chunks of meat you’d gotten at the Butcher’s. Bakugo watched you raptly as you got up and walked closer to him so you could set them on the ground in front of him. The meats were neatly wrapped in paper that you easily peeled away before you got up and looked up at his head. His eyes flicked down to the food, then back at you.

“It’s not much,” you told him as you glanced sadly down at the raw slices of meat. Now that they were in front of him, they looked so small—like they would amount to nothing but a pea’s worth of sustenance. “But it was all I could carry. I can always get more, but I hope you’re good at hunting ‘cuz I won’t be able to do this all the time.” Besides, you added in your head, I can’t bring enough to fill up a whole fucking dragon. 

Bakugo growled and snorted some smoke out at the meat as though to say of course I’m a good hunter. He looked down at the pile, then tensed as the spikes on his back bristled. You raised an eyebrow. “What? Is it not up to your standards? It’s better than nothing, I can tell you that.” He turned his head to glare off into the distance. You stood there and watched, wondering if he was going to eat the damn food or not. After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “It’s really no biggie, you know.” He looked back at you, his narrowed eyes flicking between your face and the meat. You sighed. “Come on, just eat it. You need the energy.” 

He let out a low rumble and chuffed again before finally, finally, he lowered his head to begrudgingly sniff at the food. You had no idea what his deal was—this was just like when you attempted to give him the hardened pastry back in the cave. Maybe he hated being doted on by an itty bitty human. Whatever, you rolled your eyes as you went back over to your bag to take out all your medicinal supplies. 

You rummaged around for a bit, then found yourself glancing up at Bakugo when he shifted slightly. Your glance turned into a stare when you noticed he’d raised his head, a sort of glow coming from the base of his long neck. It was a fiery orange color that made its way up and up and up until it exited from his open mouth in a burst of brilliant, rushing flames. Your jaw dropped open as you watched him roast the food, the smell of charred meat filling the air. The heat from the flames was enough to make you break into a light sweat. 

It was over just as quickly as it had started, a pile of crispy meat and burnt grass left in its wake. With a snap of his jaw, Bakugo swallowed up the food, his forked tongue darting out to lick at his chops before he leveled you with an unsatisfied look. 

You stared back. “Not a fan of raw meat, huh?” you asked wryly as you pulled out a jar of a lavender-colored paste to set on the ground near you. “Did you want some spices for that too?” 

Bakugo huffed in a way that made you grin. You pulled out some old strips of cloth to use to wipe the blood away from his wings and stood up to step closer to him. “Well, best to get started then!”

And so started the strange schedule of healing a dragon. 

Every day, you would dedicate some time to walking up the mountain with some food and more ointments to try on his wounds. They didn’t all work on him, unfortunately, but you were making some progress: his wounds weren’t bleeding anytime he moved around anymore. Though, it was still very risky for him to do anything other than walk slowly about the mountain. You kept a close eye on him—or at least as much as you could between your duties tending to the villagers who were injured or sick as well. 

It was very time consuming and energy-sapping—especially once you started using your magic to slowly heal him again. It seemed like that was the only way you were going to make any significant progress with his injuries. You felt a perpetual exhaustion behind your eyes and on your shoulders that only increased depending on how much magic you used to heal him on a given day. You hardly had time to sleep anymore, much less work on organizing your garden and inventory. It bothered you, of course it did, but you’d always put patients before all else. You just didn’t expect one of said patients would be a dragon. 

You were slowly wearing yourself down—but you couldn’t really do anything about it. 

Or well, you knew of a way that could at least alleviate some of the pain.

“Can you, like,” you started one day as you took a break between healing sessions, “move closer to the forest? It would make my life so much easier not having to hike up the mountain every day.” 

Bakugo picked his head up from the ground and snorted some smoke at you. “Great! I know a clearing in the forest you can stay in. It’s not too far from my cottage, too.” 

It was oddly surreal walking down the mountain with Bakugo slowly following behind. You made sure you were a good distance ahead of him to avoid accidentally getting trampled under his feet. The way his claws gripped at rock strong enough to crumble them to bits reminded you, yet again, that this was a powerful creature you were dealing with. A creature that the world had not seen outside their homeland for decades, maybe even centuries. The thought made you feel strangely honored. 

You had to yell at Bakugo to slow down whenever he tried picking up his pace, wary of his wounds as always. He snarled and bared his teeth at you every time, but it was honestly for his own good—he could be irritated and angry all he wanted, but you were the healer in charge here. You knew he knew that—as much as he expressed that he didn’t like it. 

Once you both got to the edge of the forest, it was tricky getting a dragon as big as Bakugo to fit through all the trees, but you managed by getting him to go around until he reached a big enough path.

And once he sat comfortably in the little clearing, surrounded by trees and bushes that concealed him pretty well, you took a moment to think about how strange your life had gotten. 

It was clear Bakugo was getting increasingly frustrated by the day. 

He snapped at you more, huffing out dark smoke that made you feel lightheaded from time to time. He put up an attitude whenever you reached out to heal him or when you offered him those small food portions. You didn’t blame him, honestly. If you were a bigass dragon and you were forced to stay in a small clearing everyday without being able to fly or move around, you’d get pretty pissed off too. You were sure the lack of sufficient food was also playing a hand at his grievances, but you were doing your best. He hunted, you were certain he did, but there was only so much he could get from the forest. 

Though… there were times where you noticed he also got annoyed due to… other things. 

Sometimes, you’d catch him concentrating on something—just like that day on the mountain clearing. He would concentrate and concentrate and concentrate, only to snap his eyes open and let out a frustrated roar that would echo throughout the forest and cause the bumbling sounds of the surrounding wildlife to halt for just a second—hauntingly still as though frozen in time. You never dared to go near him when he was in one of those moods—you were very much aware that he could crush you with just a snap of his jaw—but still, you wondered what he was doing.

You tried not to let him bother you too much, but well, it sometimes got rough and you would find yourself dragging your feet as you ventured out along the familiar forest path that led to him. 

“I know it’s not ideal,” you told him gently one day as you worked on healing the gash on his face. He stared at you with those slitted eyes of his, unwavering. “My magic isn’t the fastest there is and I’m sorry. I wish the salves would work better, but they don’t, probably because of your different physiology.” He made a sound that was akin to a scoff, but you ignored it and continued. “We’re making progress, at least. Slowly, but surely.” 

Dragons were not meant to be trapped on the ground—they were meant to be up in the air, free. You wished you could give him that freedom with a snap of your fingers, but you were painstakingly slow—limited. One day you would get there, but not anytime soon. 

You ruminated, in the quiet darkness of your bedroom, on things you could do to ease some of the frustration and tension from Bakugo. Was there anything? You frowned up at your ceiling, the small tarp that covered the hole in it fluttering slightly with the night breeze. How could you get a dragon to expel its annoyances? 

You thought long and hard about it for a majority of the night. Come morning, however, you awoke with a newfound vigor to your actions as you changed your clothes, packed your bag with some essentials, and bounded off in the direction of Bakugo’s temporary shelter. 

He was still asleep when you reached him, the warm light of morning shining onto him through the tall canopies above in a way that made his scales gleam like freshly polished gold. This was the only time you ever saw him at ease and not tense or peeved in some way, shape, or form. You didn’t think that dragons could snore and yet here he was, a small rumble leaving his mouth as a puff of smoke exited from his nostrils. It was kind of endearing, but you knew better than to linger—the last time he caught you watching him as he slept, he nearly took your arm off. 

You set about starting the healing process, concentrating on his wings for the most part that were folded close enough to the ground that you could easily reach them. The honey-like glow of your palms was a constant you had gotten used to, its warmth oddly soothing—even though it sapped out your energy like it was nobody’s business. You did notice, however, that you were getting better and better at controlling your fatigue. You supposed that made sense—with practice came improvement, even with magic. 

You healed him until his head shifted as he woke up, jaws opening in a wide yawn that showed off the curved daggers he had for teeth. 

“Oh good! You’re up!” you called out cheerfully as you stopped your magic and stepped away from his side so that he could see you once he turned his head around. He blinked at you hazily, sleep still addling his gaze, and you took the chance to snatch up your bag from where you’d dumped it on the ground. You shouldered it as you walked closer to his front and looked up at him. “Hope you’re down to do some walking today. We’re going on a little field trip.” 

Bakugo let out a puff of smoke, his head raising slightly as he tipped it to the side and watched you with a peculiar look to his ruby eyes. It was surprisingly calculative, but also curious as well. You gave him a secretive smile and stepped back. “It’s a bit of a distance, but it’ll be worth it, I promise.” You walked over to the opening in the trees that was large enough for him to fit through and gesticulated at him to follow. “Come on, up you go, big guy.”

He chuffed and made a little rumble before his legs tensed as he pushed himself up to his feet. His wings shook out slightly, the smallest hint of a tremor running through them. There was just something… belittling, almost, about watching him do even the most mundane things, like standing. It just made you feel so small. The grass rustled underneath him as he turned around and lumbered towards you—slow, as though testing out how much effort it would take him to walk without aggravating his wounds. You waited until he was close enough, then turned and headed deeper into the forest. 

You kept an eye on him as the both of you walked along a path only you were privy to, observing him to see if he was flinching or tensing in any particular areas. He seemed fine, though he occasionally let out a huff or growl at you after long stretches of just ducking between trees. You just looked back at him and gave him a smile whenever he did so, telling him that it “wasn’t much farther.” You don’t think he believed you after the third time.  

The cracks and groans of branches and shrubbery beneath Bakugo’s clawed feet nearly seemed to echo through the forest, sharp like a whip. It wasn’t much different than the time he followed you down the mountain, but for some reason, you could practically feel each step he took through the ground—reverberating through your body. Maybe it was because you were both on the same level, maybe it was due to all the dirt, or maybe you were just dramatizing things. Either way, you couldn’t help the shiver that scuttled down your spine, hearing those ominous sounds behind you. 

Eventually, once you both broke through the forest and followed a path further down and around Mount Kamino—away from the village and anyone else living in the area—the rock and dirt of the ground gave way to sand and fine grass. You suppressed a grin and jogged up ahead, hands clutching at your bag straps, until you stood at the top of a small hill to gaze at the view before you. Bakugo crawled up behind you, his shadow casting itself over your smaller form like a blanket as he peered over your head.

“Tada!!” You wiggled your hands at the wide, shimmering lake that seemed to stretch on for miles in all directions. Its crystal blue waters reflected an equally blue sky dotted with cotton candy puffs of clouds. Thick trees surrounded it on all ends apart from the side you were on, which instead had a small, empty beach. “Welcome to Lake Might! Named it myself after a legendary swordsman. Not a lot of people know about it—I think I’m the only one from Yuuei who’s found it, so we’ll at least have privacy. I hope.” 

You swiveled your head to look at Bakugo over your shoulder as he gazed out at the lake, head turning this way and that to take everything in. He wasn’t grumbling or growling, so you took that as a good sign. “Let’s go closer,” you said as you stepped forward and slid down the hill until you got to the bottom. There was more sand here than grass, so your shoes sunk into the ground before you lifted up a foot to shake off some of the grains. 

You glanced only briefly behind you to watch Bakugo start his careful descent down the hill, then scurried closer to the water’s edge so you could lay out a spare blanket you’d packed into your bag. You plopped your bag on top of it to prevent it from slipping away with the breeze and shucked off your shoes. By the time you’d started wiggling your toes into the warm sand, Bakugo had caught up and stood a few feet away from the lake. 

He let out a huff of his caramel smoke and watched you once you’d stepped closer to dip your feet into the water. It was cool—a refreshing feeling that helped with the heat from the rising sun—and lapped around your ankles. You breathed in deeply, enjoying the earthy scent that surrounded you, then exhaled it all out with a happy sigh. You turned to look up at Bakugo, who was staring at you pointedly—you could practically see the question reflected in his eyes.

“I know you haven’t been in the best mood lately,” you told him gently. His chest rumbled a bit, but you ignored it. “So I thought a day at the lake might help. You could, I dunno, try to relieve some tension somehow. Relax a bit.” 

Bakugo puffed some smoke into your face and made another low rumble. He moved to stare back at the lake. You waved a hand around your face, then used the same hand to scratch at your head. You thought back to all the small moments you’d caught him in and brightened when you thought of something. “Oh! Like this!”

With that, you positioned yourself so that your legs were shoulder-width apart, your front facing the seemingly endless expanse of water before you. Your hands came up to cup themselves around your mouth, and you took in a deep, deep breath. 

Then, you let out the loudest scream you could muster. 

It seemed to come straight from your diaphragm and traveled almost creepily across the lake like the cry of a banshee. You screamed until you ran out of breath, your vocal chords straining with its pitch. Even after your voice eventually tapered off, you could still hear it echoing towards the trees on the other side of the body of water. You waited a few seconds until you could hear nothing but the distant calls of birds and swaying motion of the lakewater before you turned to peek at Bakugo. 

“Your turn.” You gave him a small grin once you saw he was looking at you in a way you would only describe as bewildered. Maybe even surprised. You made a gesture out towards the lake and stepped away slightly to give him more space. “Go crazy.”

He stared at you for a moment more, then let out a low grumble as he faced the crystalline waters and shifted closer so that it brushed against his front claws. You quietly observed him, the way he seemed to enjoy the cool breeze from the lake as it swirled by both of your forms. He took his time, but eventually, he seemed to cement his stance. His head and neck curved backwards like he was taking a deep breath of air, the powerful muscles of his shoulders tensing and coiling as his chest puffed out. His gold-dipped tail whipped around, the spikes along it bristling. 

Your eyes latched onto the white glow that started within his chest—not at the base of his neck, like last time, you noticed—and shined as bright as a twinkling star. He seemed to hold it there and before you could even register what was happening, his head snapped forward as his jaws opened to release a literal hurricane of brilliant tangerine flames. 

You let out a yelp and brought up an arm to shield your face, but even so, you could feel the wave of heat that washed over your exposed skin like the gentle waves of the lake against the small shore. Your hair blew back from the burst of fire that erupted from his mouth, eyes squinting to look at the mixing colors. It was so much stronger—so much more powerful—than what he had done to charcoal the meat you’d brought him. White mixed with flames of gold and blood orange that danced across the gleam of your corneas and roared in your ears. Your mouth dropped open when they reached out towards the middle of the lake—maybe even further. And you never felt so fucking tiny before in your life.

Bakugo stayed like that for what felt like hours—to the point where you wondered if he would ever run out of breath—but just as quickly as the fire had started, it stopped, disappearing with a snap of his jaw as it shut. You slowly lowered your arm, staring at the steam that wafted from the lake’s surface where the vortex of flames had been dispersed. What the hell?

You cleared your throat as you tried your best not to show how stunned you were. “Well! That seemed… cathartic. Very”—you paused for a second as you searched for the right word—“impressive.” He snorted out a puff of dark smoke as his eyes flicked over to you for just a second too long. Then, he stretched out his back and tail in a motion that kind of reminded you of a cat. You decided not to think about how easy it would’ve been for him to roast you to a crisp should he have deemed you a threat in the cave… or even food. The morbid thought of What if he had eaten you in the cave—would he have? dared to fester itself in your mind, but you pushed it down. The past was in the past—it was better to focus on the present. 

You stepped back from the water and headed over to your blanket so you could shimmy out of the loose shirt and pants you’d thrown on earlier. You fully intended to make use of this lake trip to go swimming for once—you never really had the time before. The swimwear you had on underneath your loose clothing exposed more skin than you were used to, but well, it wasn’t like there was anyone out here to really see. 

You tossed your regular clothes into your bag to prevent them from getting coated in sand, then waded back into the water. The temperature made you shiver as you walked in until you were submerged up to your waist, and you stood there for a bit so you could get accustomed to it. You could see a few fishes darting away from your significantly larger form as you turned around to see what Bakugo was up to. He was still lingering at the shore, slitted eyes focused on you as you gave him a wave. 

“Be mindful of your wounds if you’re gonna get in the water,” you called out. “They’re still tender.” He’d be fine so long as he didn’t do any complex motions, but still, you didn’t want to risk him tearing them open in the unsanitary waters. That would just dump even more problems onto you to deal with. 

You watched him contemplate entering the lake for a short moment, then decided to let him do as he pleased—you didn’t need to keep an eye on him all the time, after all. You ducked down into the water to swim around for a bit and observe the small plants that littered its sandy floor. You wondered if any of them had any special properties. It was certainly something to consider. 

It was relaxing, being able to spend a day at the quiet lake. You didn’t know how much you needed the stress relief until you found yourself unwinding the longer you swam back and forth. Bakugo seemed to enjoy it as well, from what you could tell. He was content to sit in the water—just enough that it covered his legs—and occasionally breathe out his bright flames in a direction opposite of where you were. Part of you was curious if it was a physiological thing for him to be able to release his fire—if doing so was a thing he needed to do or else he’d face repercussions from his own body. Maybe, maybe not. Either way, he looked at peace—much more so than he had ever been over the time you’d been with him—in such an open environment. 

Dragons and their freedom, you thought amusedly. 

At one point, you found yourself floating on your back somewhere near Bakugo, lingering in the shadow casted upon the lake by his larger body. You could hear the gentle swishing of his tail as it moved leisurely back and forth through the water. You raised your head up slightly so you could peer in the direction of his moving tail—it was somewhere to your right. Your eyes flicked over to see Bakugo staring out into the blue distance of the sky, lost. Daydreaming of better times, perhaps. He didn’t look particularly pleased anymore, a sight that made you frown—maybe you could try to distract him? It was worth a shot.

As quietly as you could, you ducked under the water and swam towards him, before you popped out close enough to his tail that you could reach out and grab it whenever it swished back in your direction. You took a minute to just stare at it—it kind of looked like an aqua basilisk, its back decorated with golden spikes that got smaller and smaller towards its tip. Your eyes traced the swirling noir and tangerine designs that covered his scales.

Eventually, you found yourself reaching out towards it—briefly glancing at Bakugo once more to see if he’d noticed (he hadn’t)—before you latched onto the spikes somewhere on the middle of this tail. Your hands were just able to wrap around them—they were warm, you noted, and oddly smooth—in time for his tail to swish away from you, pulling you along through the water like some kind of strange ride. 

Though, almost immediately, he stopped moving and turned his head around to shoot you an unwavering look—almost analytical, if you were reading him right. You gave him a sheepish smile, still holding onto his tail loosely. Well, now you had his attention. “You seem preoccupied. You okay?”  

Bakugo eyed you, the way you draped yourself over his tail, then let out a rumble before he started slowly moving it again. You held back a grin as he pulled and pushed you through the water—at least he wasn’t in such a foul mood that he wouldn’t entertain you. That had to be a good sign, right? 

After a while, though, he still appeared to be lost in thought and you ended up contemplating what else you could do to pull him out of the slight funk he was in. You had somewhat of an idea—one that would no doubtfully be detrimental for you, but fuck it. 

Before you could convince yourself to wuss out, you let go of the hold you had on his tail so you could duck back underneath the shimmering waters. You swam around him and popped out near his front, by his left leg, one of your hands wiping at the wetness on your face. He hadn’t noticed you, having turned his head around so he could look back at his tail once he’d felt that you’d let go. 

“Over here!” you called up at him, a small grin pulling at your lips when he moved to gaze down at you curiously. He chuffed out a column of hot air through his nose that you could just barely feel against your face from your position. You gestured at him to come closer, not really expecting him to follow through, but being pleasantly surprised nonetheless when he did lower his head so you could look into his left eye. His compliance almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do. 

A mischievous smirk was all the warning you gave him before you used all the strength you could muster in your hands to send a small wave of water splashing across his face—away, of course, from the gash by his right eye (you weren’t dumb—or maybe you were?). He recoiled immediately, water dripping down the vivid scales of his cheeks and chin as he raised his head up on instinct. His ruby eyes slitted down at you, your cheeky expression, and he let out a warning growl that you would have found intimidating had you still been trapped in the cave with him.

“Aw, don’t look at me like that you kn— WAASHFS!!”

He retaliated faster than you could keep up with, his left wing reaching down to casually swipe through the water and send a literal wave crashing into your form facefirst. You fell back dramatically, the water muffling your ears and stinging at your eyes as you were body-checked into submergence. 

You resurfaced with a gasp, spluttering slightly as you swiped away the hair plastered to your face so you could shoot him the stink eye. Bakugo only made a sound you would describe as a grating laugh—raspy, unpleasant, yet oddly… humorous?—that practically sawed at your eardrums. Glancing up at his face graced you with the upwards curve of his mouth and general air of arrogance that he practically exuded in mockery of your feeble splashing attempt. Oh it was on.

You’d started this war knowing there was no way you’d be able to win it. But by god you were going to try.

After what felt like hours of you doing your best to hold your own in a clearly one-sided battle, you called for a truce and pulled yourself out of the lake. Rivulets of water streamed down your body as you beelined for your blanket so you could pull out the towel you’d packed into your bag and wrap it around your shoulders. You worked on patting yourself down, glancing up momentarily when you heard Bakugo get up from his position in the lake to trail after you. 

Tiny waterfalls ran down the sides of his torso and from the top of his wings as he lumbered steadily back onto land. He shook himself off, his tail flicking drops of water off to the side. You thought he was going to stop somewhere near you, but he ended up completely bypassing your form to head over to a large tree off to the side of the small beach. You watched him curiously, your eyes lingering on the large footprints he made in the sand, but it seemed all he wanted to do was lounge in the shade the tree’s canopy provided. 

You mulled it over for a second, then shrugged and reached down to gather up all your belongings before you jogged after him. He’d already settled on a patch of cool grass near the trunk of the tree, his legs curled underneath his body as he positioned himself so he could still stare out at the lake. You wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to take a little nap—the warmth of the air and slight fatigue of swimming around was starting to make you feel a bit drowsy as well. 

You were grateful that there was more grass under the tree than sand, but you still ended up laying out your blanket so you could rest upon it. You didn’t think wet skin pressed to dry grass would make for the most comfortable experience. Bakugo only spared you a brief glance when you plopped yourself next to his front legs and set your bag and shoes off to the side. You worked on drying your hair with your towel, enjoying the light breeze that slipped through the air and the way the lake glistened as though its waters were made of jewels. 

At one point you heard your stomach let out a faint rumble, so you rifled around in your bag for a snack that you’d packed earlier. As you did, your fingers brushed against something flat and hard—you ended up pulling out a familiar black book with a phoenix etched on its cover. You’d nearly forgotten that you’d stowed it away in your bag. It’d been sitting in there for ages. 

You let out a short hum, grabbed your snack, and closed your bag so you could use it as a pillow as you lay down. Your fingers ran delicately over the soft, silver brushstrokes the phoenix was made of, before you finally cracked the book open to a random page to start skimming its contents. 

The fae, merpeople, witches, basilisks… You flipped on and on until you eventually landed on the page you were looking for—dragons. There wasn’t much compared to the other mythicals. You read the inky words with interest, recognizing some of the information from when you’d read the little book the day you’d purchased it. 

Dragons were noble, intelligent creatures with magic so robust it was almost unfathomable. Most of this power came from gems unique to each individual dragon. These gems were either hidden or displayed on the dragon’s body somewhere, or stored somewhere safe—a place only the dragon was privy to. The author speculated this could be a hoard of sorts or a safe space, maybe even their home. No wonder hunters went after them—to hold a dragon’s gem in one’s hands meant holding the power to destroy countless villages—kingdoms, even. It would make anyone succumb to greed. You suppressed a shiver, not so subtly eyeing Bakugo from the side of your book. He’d rested his head on the ground and appeared to be dozing, if the gentle snores coming from him were any indication. You returned to your book.

The dragons, as you knew, lived in the mountainous regions to the north—areas reachable only by beings capable of flight. At least, at the time of completion of the book. Which made you wonder just how long ago it had been written. You flipped to the front page to check for a publication date and raised an eyebrow at the year: nearly a century ago. You wondered if any information was outdated or unaccounted for. Probably. You flipped back to the page you’d been on.

Dragons, you read, live in a sort of hierarchical society—evident by the kingdom they stay in. At the top are the golden-scaled, indicative of royal status, with the king himself adorned with black and tangerine markings along his body. 

Wait a second— gold?! Markings?!

Your eyes snapped up to stare at Bakugo, with his scales that reminded you of the heavy coins used in the capital, and inky designs that covered him from head to tail. He slumbered on, blissfully unaware of your encroaching shock. Your jaw dropped open. 

No fucking way were you dealing with the literal king of dragons. No way. What were the odds that you’d find him in a random cave? That he would even leave his kingdom? That he would— that he would get so injured that he couldn’t even fly? Finding a dragon in general was unheard of, but for him to be the king?! Were you dreaming?!

“Holy shit,” you whispered in disbelief, one of your hands smoothing at your slightly wet hair. This… kind of explained a lot actually. Was that why he often looked frustrated or distant? Why he looked longingly at the cotton-ball puffs of clouds in the sky? You’d just chalked it up to him being unable to fly or something, but what if there’d been more to it all this time? Shit, you’d be prickly too if you were the ruler of an entire kingdom and suddenly found yourself miles and miles away from home.

But— this book was pretty old. Who said any of this information was still true? You bit your lower lip, unsure what to believe. Part of you wanted to accept it, but the other part just wanted to ignore it in the hopes that it would stave off the awkwardness and embarrassment of all those times you’d rambled about nonsense to royalty. You literally incited a stupid splash war with him earlier—talk about humiliating! 

Those two parts duked it out for a few more moments before you decided to just let it all go. This was something you could deal with later, when you were sure you’d gotten over the bizarreness of it all. You pushed everything away and practically forced yourself to get back to reading. 

Preferred food, fire-induced magic, customs and traditions, body temperature… You found yourself getting absorbed once more in the little mythicals book, lost within its pages as the sun crawled across the sky.

And when Bakugo woke up from his nap and blinked at you sleepily, all you did was offer him a small smile. 

You dedicated more and more time to healing his wings. 

Day in and day out you would put all your focus, your strength, into getting those pesky wounds on his wings to disappear. It was tedious, it was draining, of course it was. But you couldn’t let him suffer like this for much longer—couldn’t let him be confined to the ground when he was meant to be amongst the clouds, the stars. Especially with what you now (possibly) knew about him. 

So you worked, and you healed, and you worked some more. You woke up early, went to bed late. You stopped having long conversations whenever you were in the village. You put your garden on hold. You ran yourself down to the Earth. 

And after what felt like weeks—months, even—of constant healing, your determination, your lassitude, finally paid off. 

“Anndd… done!” You smiled as you stepped away from his left wing, one of your hands wiping at the perspiration that’d beaded up on your forehead. Faint, jagged scars were all that remained of the viscous tears that had previously marred the thin, leathery skin. You couldn’t help but to look at them rather proudly. 

Bakugo raised his head to look at you, his wings twitching occasionally as the muscles on his back flexed. You made eye contact with him. “Okay, even though your wings are fully healed, you still need to be care—” 

You didn’t even get to finish your little lecture. As soon as the words had left your mouth, his wings had shot out to give a massive flap that generated enough wind to send leaves, dust, and bits of grass up into the air. You yelped as your hair whipped around with the force of his motions, your hands moving up to shield your face. You stumbled backwards and did your best to squint at him—the wicked grin that bared his sharp teeth, the eagerness with which he tested out his capabilities. 

The trees surrounding the clearing rustled and swayed as Bakugo gave a few more experimental flaps before he eventually boosted himself up into the air with an extra jump from his tensed legs. He nearly knocked you over, but you cemented yourself to the ground just to be able to watch him rapidly soar up, and up, and up—through the endless blue that stretched way beyond your reach.

A stupid little smile splayed itself across your lips when you heard him let out an exuberant roar that echoed down to the Earth, his wings and body glittering like the sun itself. He really was a sight for sore eyes, you mused to yourself, one of your hands hovering above your forehead as you squinted at him. He looked like he was having fun, soaring about, doing deep dives and impressive spins. He was free, unlimited in where he could go. And well… you were here confined to the ground, forced to watch him do things you could never even dream of accomplishing.

You let out a sigh that got lost in the openness of the clearing, quiet and wistful.

Bakugo spent quite a while just flying around, but eventually he returned to the clearing—to you, sitting under the shade of a tree as you waited for him. You got up just as he landed on the ground with a resounding thump—one that you felt in your knees and nearly made you stumble backwards. 

You brushed your clothes off and wandered closer to him as he let out a chuff and stretched his back in a self-satisfied way. “Yes, yes, being able to fly again must be great,” you told him cheerily, stopping somewhere near his front so you could look at his face. He peered down at you with a snort. “But, as I was trying to tell you before, you need to be careful of your other wounds. I put them on hold so that I could focus on your wings, so they’re not in the best condition. You’ll need to stick around so I can tend to them.” You gestured at him to sit down. “Let me check how they’re doing.” 

He made a little rumble but did as told, settling down on the grass with his legs tucked beneath him. You hummed to yourself as you skittered around him to poke and prod at his other wounds. They hadn’t been torn open, thankfully, and didn’t seem to be swollen or tender. No erythema either, from what you could see. Good, that was good. 

“Looks great!” You gave him a thumbs up once you were done checking the gash on his face. He rumbled at you again as he raised his head. “I’ll work on them later. Finishing your wings took quite a bit out of me.” You stepped away with the intention of heading back to your cottage for some rest, but Bakugo wasn’t done with you just yet. He made a sound that had you pausing, one of your eyebrows raising at him questioningly. “Hm?”

For a moment he seemed to dawdle, his gaze flicking away from you almost like he was… Well, embarrassed wasn’t the word, exactly. Nor was it nervous. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. But before you could ruminate on it even more, he turned his head to look pointedly at his wings as he gave them a small flap. Then, he looked back at you, making direct eye contact, and sunk his head down in a little bow. 

“Oh!” You blinked at him in surprise, then felt a warmth spread itself across your chest and into your heart. You gave him a wide smile when he raised his head again, shy. “Well, you’re very welcome!” 

Bakugo started flying around the mountain and village more often, now that he was finally able to. His mood took a turn for the better (thank god, you thought to yourself) and you saw that he was not quite as prone to frustration or anger as he was before. He still had his moments, though, when he thought you weren’t around, but at least he wasn’t snappy at you. 

A part of you wondered if he would leave—he could fly back to his kingdom now, couldn’t he? He wasn’t obligated to stay, after all, and surely as king he would have resources to better treat his injuries. But no, he still stuck around, and you tried desperately to ignore how happy that made you feel. 

Having him as company was nice, of course, but you wondered if it was a good idea for him to be flying around so freely—it would only draw unwanted attention. You couldn’t exactly tell him to stop flying, though. You wouldn’t do that to him, and you didn’t think he would listen to you anyways. Besides, at least he was healed enough to handle himself should trouble come poking around at the prospect of a dragon hanging around Mount Kamino.

It didn’t stop the slight unease you felt when you wandered into Yuuei for the day only to see people whispering to each other, their gazes flickering up to the sky from time to time as though they would find something there other than clouds and birds. You eavesdropped on a few conversations as you did your rounds (“Gold, too! Didn’t know they came in that color!”), then eventually made your way to a familiar pub to see what kind of gossip Denki had learned about. 

Only, when you pushed open the doors to his pub, you saw an unfamiliar figure at the bar chatting with your friend. 

“Oh! Hey!” Denki called out your name over the stranger’s shoulder as you walked over and leaned against the bartop with a smile. “You’re here early. Want your usual?” 

“Yep.” You nodded and he started bustling around to make you your drink. You turned to face the stranger. ”Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. What’s your name?”  

“I’m Kirishima Eijiro!” The red-haired man introduced himself with a blinding, sharp-toothed grin that turned a bit sheepish after a moment. “S’that obvious I’m not from here, huh? What gave it away?” he joked as he gestured down to his clearly foreign clothing: leathery-looking dark pants paired with thick boots, a thin shirt that he wore unbuttoned and displayed the smooth planes of his chest. Your eyes caught onto a black marking near his heart—it looked like some kind of tattoo, though you couldn’t quite make it out with his shirt covering most of it. Something with the sun, maybe. He was quite large and certainly strong if the way his shirt tightened around his thick arms were any indication. 

“The hair,” you joked back, pointing at the spiky mess atop his head. He let out a bright laugh and ran one of his thick hands through said hair. “That and I practically know everyone in the village. Resident healer, at your service.” You gave him a silly little bow. 

“Oh!” He blinked at you and leaned forward eagerly. “In that case, maybe you can help me! I’m lookin’ for a buddy of mine. About this high”—he lifted up a hand to somewhere just a bit shorter than him—”with ash-blond hair that looks like an explosion and red eyes like mine. Curses like a pirate and has these tattoos all along his arms and shoulders. He’s been missin’ for… a long time, now. I’ve been passin’ through villages asking if anyone’s seen him. Maybe you’ve… healed him?” He had a slight grimace on his face at the idea that his friend was injured. 

You tapped a finger on your chin as you raked through your brain, but eventually shook your head sadly. “No, don’t think I’ve seen him, sorry.”

“Aw”—his shoulders slumped—”thanks anyways. Guess I’ll have to keep searching.”

“Enough about that— no offense, Kirishima,” Denki suddenly butted back in, nearly slamming your drink and pastry down on the bar in front of you. Kirishima held up his hands in a none taken gesture. “I wanna talk about the fucking dragon everyone’s been gossiping about.” 

At that, Kirishima perked up suddenly, intrigue glistening in his ruby eyes. “Wait— dragon?” 

Denki turned to give him an odd look. “You mean you haven’t heard?? Or like, even seen it?! It’s so hard to miss, flying around Mount Kamino and stuff.”

“To be fair, he is just passing through,” you told Denki before you took a sip of your drink. 

“What does the dragon look like?” Kirishima asked curiously, his eyes darting between you and Denki. 

“Gold,” you replied before Denki could. “With black markings.” 

Denki gave you an odd look. “How the hell were you able to see that? I just heard that it’s gold.” 

You shrugged and took a bite of your pastry to avoid looking at either of them. You still didn’t think it would be a good idea to bring up the fact that you’d been healing said dragon all this time. “I spend a lot of time on Kamino.” And that was all you said on the matter. Denki looked like he wanted to press you for more, but Kirishima beat him to the punch. 

“Where is Mount Kamino?” he asked you, his eyes locked on your face with a surprising amount of calculative intensity. You only pointed to one of the pub’s windows that had a view of the mountain beyond it. Kirishima wandered over to the window to peer through it, then turned around with a steadfast gleam to his eyes. 

“Thanks for everything, guys. I’m gonna take my leave! Have a good one!” he called out as he beelined right for the door, barely catching the confused farewells you and Denki returned to him. The two of you stood there staring at the pub’s exit for a moment. You hoped he wasn’t a hunter or anything—it was pretty obvious where he was heading. But well, you hadn’t seen any weapons on him, so you supposed he was fine. Hopefully. 

Denki was the first to break the silence. “You think I’ll get more business if I started selling dragon-shaped cookies?” You snorted and rolled your eyes.

A few days later, you were steadily picking your way through the forest to the clearing that held Bakugo when you heard a strange rustling. You paused, eyes wide as you looked around carefully. It wasn’t unusual for you to hear the odd sound or see the occasional wild animal while you were wandering around. But this didn’t sound like an animal. If you listened close enough, you could hear soft footsteps. The fact that it was so close to where Bakugo was put you a bit on edge—what if it was someone who’d gotten a bit too curious in light of recent village news? 

You stood there, simply listening. You didn’t see anything out of the ordinary as you peered in the direction of the rustling, only trees and overgrown shrubs. The sound eventually faded away into the distance—opposite of the direction you were headed in. You let out a sigh of relief. It was probably an animal, you reassured yourself as you continued to where Bakugo was impatiently waiting for you. You forgot about it soon enough.

And when you offhandedly mentioned to Denki, some time later, that you hadn’t seen Kirishima around after your first meeting with him, he responded with: “Oh, yeah! He left a bit ago. Said he found his pal and went back home without him or something. Didn’t really tell me the details.” 

[The team having to listen to Y/N complaining the entire way back to the compound after a mission because Steve didn’t let her blow up a building]

Steve, sighing: So you think you’ll be done complaining now?

Y/N, shrugging: Wish I didn't love to complain but unfortunately I'm just really good at it. Who am I to deny the world my gift.

Natasha, smirking, without even looking at Steve: Should’ve let her blow up the building.

*the team laughs, whilst Natasha holds Y/N’s hand and walks off the quinjet, knowing Y/N isn’t done complaining for a while*

Masterpiece that's all I have to say

holding out (just for you) [3] || katsuki b.

pairing: dragon!bakugo katsuki x reader

word count: 12.9k+

mentions: female reader, fantasy au, near death experience, descriptions of injuries (blood, some light gore, nausea, poisoning wrt reader), not completely revised akhdfg, aged up chars (24+), sfw, second pov, part of the bnha big bang collab!

with art drawn by the talented @your-fellow-passerine!! here is a link to the original post (give it some love!!!!) <33

side note: there had been some confusion wrt the ending of ch2 when i had posted it so im here to say that bkg did not leave LOL.

masterlist part two

You had a feeling for a while now that Bakugo didn’t like being indebted to you. 

You picked it up from some of his more subtle mannerisms whenever you brought him food or spent hours on end healing him. You didn’t mind, you really didn’t, and you tried telling him as much. But well, if there was one thing you learned about him over all these months, it was that he was a stubborn bastard (and he knew that, too). He could be grumpy all he wanted, though—it wasn’t like you were going to stop.

One day, you were just finishing up on healing the wound near his eye when he decided to puff a small bit of smoke directly into your face. Your nose scrunched slightly as you waved away the cloud with a hand and looked into his eye expectantly. He was lucky his smoke smelled kind of good; you don’t think you would have tolerated him doing it so often if it didn’t. “Need something?”

He made a deep rumble and lifted his head up, your hands dropping away from it as he jerked his chin towards his back. You looked at it curiously. “Oh, do you want me to heal—” 

He cut you off with a light growl and shake of his head. You could only watch him dumbly, not quite understanding even as he appeared to get a bit irritated. He gestured to his back again and gave his wings a little flap, then looked pointedly down at you with another huff. 

“Oh!” You brightened as his actions seemed to click together in your head. “You wanna go somewhere?” He let out a snort and lowered his head to give you a gentle nudge with the tip of his nose. “With me?” A puff of caramel-scented smoke and quick nod was all the confirmation you needed. “Sure, we’ve got time.” The sun wouldn’t set for a while. You stepped around him to tug on your bag and head over to his back, your eyes moving to look for somewhere you could sit atop him. It wouldn’t be an issue if he didn’t have all those spikes in the way. 

Just as the thought crossed your mind, though, Bakugo lowered himself closer to the ground. After a short moment that had you raising an eyebrow at him, he retracted his spikes completely into his body. You stared at his smooth back for a second, then looked at him with bewilderment painted across your features. He avoided your gaze a bit, then flicked his eyes towards you. “Wow! Since when could you do that?!” He only snorted as a response. 

It took a bit of shimmying to crawl your way up Bakugo’s back—his scales were warm like an hearth under your palms and slightly slippery as though coated in a light layer of oil—but you eventually managed to nestle yourself in the crook where his neck met his back. Your legs dangled down from the sides of his neck in a way that reminded you of riding a horse—except your thighs were forced to spread apart much wider. You were going to be sore as all hell tomorrow.  

You rested your hands lightly on his neck in front of you and looked up to see him peering back at you, one slitted, crimson eye sharply trained on your form. You gave him a thumbs up, doing your best to ignore the butterflies fluttering away in your stomach. Were you really about to do this? “Ready!” You guessed you were.

Bakugo chuffed and turned back around as the muscles in his back rolled beneath you. It was an entirely different experience being on top of him as he prepared to take off. Part of you kind of preferred to be on the ground—watching—instead. Your heart shot up to your throat when his wings gave two massive flaps somewhere behind you, and you leaned forward to wrap your arms around his thick neck as much as you could, practically cementing your body against him. 

“Ohhh my goddd,” you choked out, holding on for dear life as he leapt up into the air in a sudden, quick motion and flew up, and up, and up. Your stomach lurched, your hair whipped around sporadically. You almost didn’t want to look down, but you did, and you gaped in amazement as the clearing got smaller and smaller. The forest turned into an indecipherable ocean of green and if you looked to your left, you could see the small houses and buildings that made up Yuuei. 

Bakugo eventually leveled off and started heading in the direction of Mount Kamino. Since his movements were less rocky than they were while he was climbing up into the air, you were able to somewhat let go of his neck to sit yourself up. The wind pushed your hair back and stung at your eyes from being this high, but it wasn’t unbearable. You breathed in deeply, the crisp air filling your lungs, then exhaled it all in a relieved sigh. The warmth of the gleaming sun to your left and the coolness of being at this altitude contrasted against each other, but you felt nothing but the heat radiating from the dragon beneath you.

You stared around in wonder, the vast expanse of blue that stretched on until it reached the silver lining of the horizon. You felt like you could get lost in all that blue, unable to tell left from right or forward from backward. The thought made you suppress a small shiver and you turned your attention to the puffy, white clouds that Bakugo soared by—you couldn’t help but reach out to them, humorously imagining that you could just snatch a chunk off to hold in your hand. 

If you peeked down at the Earth, you could see the moment when the grey of Mount Kamino met the thick forest that surrounded it. Some distance away, you could see Lake Might—a mirror in the ground that felt like a portal to another universe. That you could fall through and end up in another sky not unlike this one. Your eyes moved to skim over the face of the mountain, locating a familiar dark cave atop an equally as familiar slope.

You felt, more than heard, the rumble that quaked through Bakugo’s chest. You raised your head to look at him; he’d turned his head slightly to peer at you from the corner of a glowing, ruby eye. 

“This is amazing!” You laughed out, a silly grin on your slowly numbing face. He snorted and returned his gaze to the front. Where you both were going, you didn’t know, but you trusted him.

You got so lost in watching the green ground pass below you—the way Bakugo’s shadow drifted across the clouds he soared above—that when he started to decelerate and tilted himself downwards, you blinked in surprise. There was a large clearing atop a plateau that he circled around once before he dropped himself down onto it in a smooth landing. You hardly felt yourself get jostled around. He puffed out some smoke and crouched his legs so you could slide off his back, your thighs only slightly sore for now. 

You straightened out your clothes and looked around to see where he’d taken you. It really was just a regular clearing. You wandered away from him and crouched down by a flower sticking out from tall blades of grass. A familiar, cerulean-colored flower, with petals shaped in the form of a star and leaves that reminded you of the hearts Denki would sometimes doodle on the sides of your drink containers. Your jaw dropped open. 

“Zeniths!” you exclaimed as you picked said flower and jumped to your feet so you could spin around to face Bakugo. He was watching you quietly, his eyes flicking down to the Zenith as you scurried closer to him to brandish it eagerly. “You found a clearing!! Shit, look at all this!” You waved your hand out at the seemingly endless field covered in cerulean flowers. “This is enough to last me years!” You turned back to look at him with a wide smile that made the apples of your cheeks hurt. “Thank you! Truly.”

For a moment, all he did was stare down at you. Then he snorted out some smoke into your face and turned his head to look away in a random direction. You only laughed at his reaction and jogged off to start collecting as many Zeniths as you could. You’d have to remember where this clearing was for the future—maybe you could come back on your own.

You took your time to carefully pluck and bundle the Zeniths, wrapping their stems together with string so you could stash them in your bag. At one point, you looked around to see what Bakugo was up to and saw that he’d taken to the skies again—you hadn’t even noticed when he’d lifted off, so absorbed in your work. He was steadily circling around the plateau, clearly enjoying himself, in his own way. 

You wandered over to a particularly rough, bumpy, patch of the plateau and knelt down to gather the Zeniths there. But you paused, for a short second, as you felt a faint tremor through the soles of your shoes. You slowly stood up and waited to see if there would be another, your eyes latched onto the gently swaying grass and flowers below you. One second, two seconds—a faint shake. Three seconds, four seconds. The ground shifted. You furrowed your eyebrows.

And then the Earth erupted beneath your feet.

You let out a yelp as you tumbled backwards onto the grass and dirt, your brain not fully processing what was happening. Your reflexes kicked into overdrive when you noticed a large, dark shadow shoot towards your disoriented form, and you were just barely able to toss yourself to the side to avoid it. A large jaw snapped near your head, missing it by inches. You rolled, heart picking up a frantic beat when you heard a low, raspy hissing. From your periphery, something grey and scaley—covered with flecks of brown and green—gyrated at your side and sunk back into the ground. You stared at where it had disappeared, the Earth a mess of overturned soil that quivered for a second before it stilled. 

You swallowed thickly, breaths bated, and slowly picked yourself up from the ground. You kept your eyes locked on the area around you. And you listened. And you waited. You were scared to take a further step for fear of disturbing the odd silence that had befallen the field, but you forced yourself to slowly inch away from your spot. You licked at your dry lips, a foreboding feeling settling in your chest. Your fingers trembled into fists.

This time, when the ground exploded in a monstrous plume of dirt and grass, you let out a piercing scream and whipped yourself around so you could run. 

Keep your gaze low, you panicked to yourself as you pumped your legs as fast as you could. The terra basilisk let out a hiss that you could hear over your palpitating heart. Its large shadow lunged towards you again. You yelped and dove to the side, a pain bursting along your upper right arm as your hands scraped against rock and rough patches of soil. Still, you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t. You scrambled up and sprinted off towards some trees you could see in the distance, not giving yourself the time to rest for fear of what would become of you if you did. 

You could hear the way the basilisk snaked across the ground after you, the way it dove deep into the soil once more to leave you for a terrifyingly quiet minute. The ground shook minutely behind you, before all went still. You didn’t dare look back to see where it was, keeping your eyes locked on a point in front of you. A crisp pain was starting to manifest itself in your side, just under your ribs. Your breaths came out in quick gasps. 

Still, you ran. 

A column of dirt burst forth into the air to your right. You yelped and ducked down as you lunged to the left to avoid the dark, snapping maw that descended upon your head like the hand of death itself. But just as you pivoted to sprint in a direction opposite of the hole the basilisk had emerged from, your foot slipped on something—made it twist sharply and suddenly. You barely had time to throw out your hands to catch yourself as you went plunging towards the grass. Before you could hit the ground, however, something slammed into your side. 

Hard. 

It threw off your momentum—knocked you into the air—a choked gasp leaving your chapped lips as you soared blindly in a direction you couldn’t make out. Your hair whipped around your face, your eyes scrunched closed as though to brace yourself. You hit the ground with a rough thud and rolled through grass and dirt that tangled around your hair and limbs. Sticks and stones scratched at your clothes, your skin. Your head swam with the motion of skidding across the Earth in a seemingly never-ending whirlwind. A rough grunt escaped your mouth when you finally, finally, felt your back collide with something rough. It forced the wind right out of you—caused a throbbing pain to radiate across your torso. You crumpled into a heap, the energy sapped out of you like a sponge wrung dry.

And through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you heard a thundering, soul-encompassing, roar. 

It reverberated through your very bones, sunk deep into your chest and made your heart skip a beat. You could barely even move. The hammering in your head, along your back, was debilitating. Your lips trembled with the pained groans you wanted to release. The dirt felt cool against your overheating cheeks. You kept your eyes shut tightly, unwilling to look up for fear of meeting the yellowed eyes of the basilisk. All you could do was curl into a ball and listen to the snarls and growls in the near distance. Feel a sudden, sweltering heat that washed along your exposed skin—accompanied by a deep, deep rumble. You bit at the inside of your cheek and pressed your forehead further into the Earth in the hopes that it would swallow you whole.

A shrieking hiss. A vicious snarl. The sound of flesh tearing apart. The steady flapping of large wings that got fainter and fainter and fainter, until all you could hear was the gentle rustling of leaves above you. Peaceful, almost, in a way that made you feel sick. Grass tickled at your neck. Your back throbbed at the slightest of movements.

In the far, far distance, there was a faint crack that was followed by the shrill chirps and caws of birds as they fluttered up into the sky. 

You don’t know how long you lay there, your consciousness flickering in and out like a candle fighting to stay lit in a storm. Your eyes fluttered as you struggled desperately against the encroaching darkness that threatened to pull you under. Eventually, you were jolted awake by a thud somewhere near you that you could feel through the ground. For a moment, your heart stuttered in your chest, worried that the creature behind the impact was one with grey, scaly skin and yellow eyes. But then something gently nudged at your right side. Hot air fanned out over your body, ruffling your hair. There was a familiar, quiet rumbling sound that only became more insistent when you didn’t move. 

You released the groan you’d been choking on and started to shift so you could push yourself up. Your back immediately protested, practically screaming at you to lay down once more. But you couldn’t—you knew you couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted to close your eyes and simply rest. You needed to check the stinging pain you felt on your upper arm, the tenderness in your ankle.  

With muscles tenser than you’d ever felt them before, you propped yourself up on your palms and moved your legs until you were in a crawling position. You blinked hazily down at the dirt and grass beneath you, your chest moving as you took slow, steady breaths in the hopes that they would get rid of the spots of black that lingered across your vision. Bakugo let out a chuff near your head and nudged you again until you shifted, painstakingly slow. God, everything hurts. 

You managed to sit yourself up and lean back against the tree you’d slammed into, your legs extended before you. Just doing that simple action made your head swing dangerously. Inhale, then exhale. You shivered at the gentle breeze that drifted through the air. You closed your eyes for a second, then reopened them to gaze blearily up at Bakugo hovering in front of you. Worried, it seemed, if the way he was chuffing close to your face was any indication. Something dark burgundy was smeared across his mouth, coated his fangs. You swallowed thickly and forced down the sudden nausea you felt crawling up your throat. Bakugo watched you carefully for a moment, then his pink tongue darted out to lick at his maw in a quick motion. You let out a quiet sigh. 

“Did it nick you?” you croaked out once your nerves had settled, your tongue like lead in your mouth. Bakugo huffed out his irritation and nudged your shoulder pointedly. You let out a weak laugh. “Yeah, I should… focus on myself, huh?” Your left hand reached across your chest to press your palm against the stinging part of your upper arm. When you pulled it away, it was coated in crimson—though it was much darker than you’d expected it to be. And when you turned your head in an attempt to peer at the wound, you saw that it was tinged with an inky black. Your stomach dropped. No wonder you were feeling so lightheaded and clammy. 

“Fuck, it got me,” you rasped and pressed the back of your hand to your forehead. It felt warm. You needed to do something, and you needed to do it fast. Bakugo made a low whine as your eyes darted around the grass surrounding you. There were a few Zeniths swaying lazily back and forth a few feet to your left. Perfect. You took a deep breath to brace yourself, then shifted back onto your knees so you could crawl closer to the cerulean flowers. Your back pulsed hotly—you winced and struggled to push through the pain for the brief seconds it took you to reach out and snatch them up in a clumsy hand. 

Bakugo followed you with his head, puffing near your body as he kept an eye on you. The light around you was starting to… look strange. Almost like you were underwater. That couldn’t be good. You sat on your calves and promptly stuffed the Zeniths into your mouth, your jaw working furiously as you chewed them into a paste. It wasn’t the best method of execution to get them to the state you needed, but well, it would have to do. They tasted like… nothing, really. Maybe the vague hint of something that reminded you of honeydew.

You were lucky—really fucking lucky—that you were surrounded by the right flora to aid in healing your injuries and slowing down the spread of the basilisk poison. You dared not ruminate on the dark implications of the plateau housing other… less useful plants. 

You did your best to wipe the blood on your palm on the grass near your knees. There was no time to waste—you couldn’t spare the minutes it would take to get your arm to stop bleeding. As you spat the murky green mush in your mouth onto your left hand and smoothed it roughly over the gash on your upper arm, you felt Bakugo insistently nudge the side of your head. The puffs of air from his nostrils fanned gently against your cheek and tickled your neck. You glanced over to him with an inquisitive hum. Once your attention was on him, he lowered his head so he could nose at the hand clutching at your arm, pointedly huffing at it. His scales felt cool, almost, against your hot skin. That definitely couldn’t be good. 

“What?” you asked confusedly when Bakugo continued his actions. He let out a low rumble and nudged a bit harder at your hand, but you were lost as to what he was trying to say. “I don’t…” you trailed off, blinking heavily at him. You felt tired. You didn’t have the time for this. Bakugo huffed out his irritation and lifted his head away from you so you could see the white glow of his fire at the base of his neck. But instead of releasing it, he let the glow fade and exhaled a cloud of dark smoke. He then leaned towards you again so he could nose at your hands. 

“Your… fire? My hands…?” you mumbled to yourself, trying to get your foggy brain to work enough to piece things together. What did they have in common? Was there anythi— “Oh!” you exclaimed as things clicked together. “My— my magic?” 

Bakugo rumbled and leaned away from you so he could give you an expectant look—though there was something to it that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something that made your insides twist with guilt. He was antsy, you realized, as you spotted the way his tail undulated almost frenziedly behind him. The way his unsheathed spikes bristled along his tensed spine. You bit at the inside of your cheek and turned your gaze away from him so you could inspect your wound. The Zenith mush was just enough to cover it entirely. Good. It wouldn’t take too long for the Zeniths to take effect—but you needed to get back to your cottage soon. You had more effective treatments you could administer there that would help get rid of the encroaching fever and chills. 

You cleared your parched throat and finally looked back at him impatiently waiting. “I ah, forgot to mention that my magic… it doesn’t really work on me.” You didn’t think your avoidance of telling him such information in the cave would come back to bite you in the ass, but here you were. You grimaced when he let out a low growl, his eyes slitting into thin slices. “You were being defensive when you saw— What was I supposed to do? Look”—you took a deep breath in an attempt to reorient yourself—“never mind that. We— We have to get back to my cottage.”

Bakugo made a sound from deep within his chest as you looked away from him and down at your shirt. You still felt lightheaded and your body felt like you’d just stepped out of a funeral pyre. It was exhausting. Focus, you had to focus. After doing your best to wipe the Zenith mush off of your hand, you made quick work out of tearing off a piece of the bottom of your shirt. You wrapped it around your upper arm as tightly as you could, wincing as you used your teeth to help you tie a knot that rested on top of your wound. Fuck, it was sloppy, but it would have to do until you got back home. At least the pain had simmered down to a dull throb.

“Okay.” You nodded to yourself and slowly shifted your legs around until you were in a crouching position. Leaning most of your weight on your uninjured ankle, you paused to take a small breath, then pushed yourself up. 

Immediately, your back spasmed—a sudden and ferocious thing that made you yelp and lurch forward in a reflexive attempt to curl in on yourself. You caught yourself on something in front of you that shifted underneath your torso and poked your stomach. It felt like you could hardly even move. Once you blinked away the darkness that tinged the edges of your vision, you found yourself hanging off the shimmering gold of Bakugo’s snout—practically leaning your entire weight on top of him. Slitted crimson eyes zeroed in on your perspiring face. 

“Shit, sorry,” you gasped out, eyebrows scrunched together as you waited for your back pain to settle down to a dull ache once more. Bakugo let out a rumble and a small puff of smoke that you felt caress the sides of your face. It was strangely… comforting, you guessed. Once you’d managed to collect yourself, you eased yourself off of him, one of your hands delicately resting on the scales of his left cheek as you grimaced down at your ankle. 

The boots you were wearing were thick enough that you were certain your ankle wasn’t dealing with an injury that was too dire. But still, as you tentatively shifted some of your weight onto it, you couldn’t help wincing as it gave a sharp throb. Broken, no, but it was definitely tender—maybe sprained. You sighed. 

“Les’go,” you told Bakugo as you clumsily stepped forward in the direction of his wings, your back hunched slightly to stave off any more spasms. You raised an arm to wipe it across your warm face. If you didn’t make any sudden movements and kept your back tilted, then you could somewhat hobble around. Somewhat. Bakugo puffed out some smoke and lowered himself so that he was resting flat on the ground, his spikes retracting once more. He kept a slitted eye on you, warily watching as you approached his shoulder. 

It took you longer than you would’ve liked to admit to shimmy your way onto his back. The slightest movements in the wrong direction would cause your back to pulse or your ankle to twinge. Bakugo rumbled an anxious little sound as he attempted to help you, the muscles of his back and front leg shifting underneath your scratched up palms to make the incline up his side easier to crawl across. 

As soon as you settled on top of his nape, he gave you one last glance before immediately taking off. You nearly tumbled off him with the force of his jump, your grip around his neck tightening. His wings moved at a rapid pace. The wind stung at your eyes. You grimaced when your back throbbed and leaned forward until your front rested against his neck. His scales felt a bit warmer now where they were pressed against your cheek—that meant the Zeniths were working. Good.

In the far distance, away from the plateau, you caught a glimpse of something long and grey laying on the ground. Terrifyingly still. It made something foul twist its way through your chest. You closed your eyes and lost yourself to the beating of Bakugo’s wings.

You woke up abruptly, your body jostling harshly in a way that made you bolt upright. You regretted it once your back protested angrily, a pained hiss escaping your lips as one of your hands pressed itself somewhere against your lower lumbar region. You felt groggy—sluggish—but at least you were cognizant. A rumble somewhere in front of you made you look up to see Bakugo watching you carefully, his pupil flicking to your hand pressed to your body. And it was then that you realized you were both on the ground—not in the sky. That was fast. 

He’d taken you straight to your cottage instead of the forest clearing, you noticed, as you glanced around. The space you had around it wasn’t large enough to accommodate him. He was mostly standing on top of the soil you used for your garden—you’d cleaned out the area a long time ago. You just hadn’t had the chance to plant anything yet, with all the medicinal responsibilities you were in charge of. He’d tucked his wings close to his body and made himself as small as possible—though even then it was barely enough. It certainly didn’t seem comfortable.

By now the sun had started to creep its way to the horizon, its light painting the walls of your cottage a rich honey color. Slipping off Bakugo’s back was certainly easier than the whole ordeal of clambering on top of it, though once your feet hit the ground you grimaced at the simultaneous waves of pain that radiated through your back and ankle. You mumbled something to Bakugo—a thanks, maybe, you weren’t quite sure—and stumbled your way towards your front door. 

As you reached behind you to grab your key from your bag, you startled slightly when your hand met nothing but air. A quick glance around you let you know it was nowhere in sight. You slapped a hand against your face and let out a groan. You hadn’t even noticed it was gone. Bakugo made a questioning sound in reply—you could hear him shifting closer behind you, feel the hot air that left his nose as you turned around to see his head hovering over you. He’d curled into an even tighter ball, now that you’d gotten off his back. 

“Dropped my bag back at the plateau,” you told him wearily with a sigh. You already didn’t particularly like the prospect of going back there, but well… you really needed those Zeniths. It didn’t help the bubbling, anxious feeling in your gut, though. This was a problem for another day, you decided. “We’ll grab it later,” you mumbled offhandedly and turned back around so you could clumsily swipe the spare key you kept hidden in a flower pot to the side of the door. 

You shuffled inside once the door opened, making a beeline for one of the wooden chairs you had by the table of salves and creams. You collapsed onto it heavily and grumbled when your back gave a sharp pang. There was the sound of huffing and shifting from outside that you paid no mind to for the time being, instead focused on easing your boots from your feet. A groan escaped your lips once you managed to free your aching ankle and a quick inspection of it after you slipped your sock off showed that it was swollen. Great. 

You were lucky that you had some supplies on the table from the last person you’d treated earlier in the day—just thinking about needing to walk over to your bedroom closet to grab them made your ankle pulse with another wave of pain. 

But first—the wound on your arm. 

You made quick work out of unwrapping the bloody piece of cloth from your upper arm, grimacing when it peeled wetly off your wound. You had to awkwardly twist your arm towards you and crane your neck so you could inspect it. The Zenith mush had mostly been absorbed already, eradicating the black tinge of the poison and leaving nothing but the fresh red of blood. You pressed the back of your hand against your forehead and slumped your shoulders in relief at the steadily decreasing temperature. You felt marginally better, certainly, but there was still work to be done. 

You began the tedious process of cleaning your arm up and slathering a poison-specialized salve over the gash to ensure that it wouldn’t still be in your system. You craved nothing more than to just lay in the comfort of your bed, to sleep off the aches and pains—or attempt to, at least. But you couldn’t, not yet. You let out a sigh as you tightened a roll of bandages around your arm and fastened a knot directly over the wound once more. At least you felt cleaner—albeit marginally. 

From outside, you heard Bakugou make a low whining sound that pulled you out of your focus. You lifted your gaze to see him peering at you through your open door. He couldn’t fit his head through the entryway—it was too big—so he had to settle on watching you through one of his eyes, the pupils slitted to make way for gleaming crimson. Once he saw you were looking at him, he chuffed and glanced up and down your seated form. 

“Almost done, it’s okay,” you murmured—to reassure him or yourself, you would never know. You shuffled through some of the ointments on your table until you found a pale pink one. Uncapping the jar, you swiped your fingers through the paste and lifted your shirt slightly so you could spread it lightly across your back. It was a bit cool—room temperature, you knew—and you did your best to cover all the areas that twinged and panged whenever you moved in the wrong way. Bakugo rumbled again and shifted outside your little cottage. Antsy still, you assumed. 

It wasn’t until you were finished coating and tightly wrapping up your ankle that you finally breathed out a sigh in relief. You wiped your hands off on your shirt—you’d need to trash it anyways, with how it was ripped at the bottom—and tentatively stood up from your chair so you could test how much weight you could place on your ankle. It still ached, and your back protested when you straightened up, but they were both much more manageable than they were before. At least you could walk without limping too heavily. 

You made your way over to the open doorway, painstakingly slow, and stopped just before it, bracing one of your hands against the frame. Bakugo huffed out a bit of smoke and raised his head up and away so you could step outside slightly and look up at him. 

“I’ll be fine,” you told him when it became apparent he was waiting for you to say something. He snorted and lowered himself so he could inspect your arm. The hot puffs of air from his nose fanned out along your exposed skin and made a shiver run down your spine. He gently nudged your side until you lifted a hand to rest it on his nose. Your thumb smoothed over the scales there, as though you could make them gleam brighter than they already were. He let out a quiet sound—soft enough that it nearly blended in with the rustling leaves and chirping insects.

You glanced up at the sky—the deep navy that intertwined with the last bits of tangerine from the sun—then at Bakugo, who still looked way too large for your little garden space. “It’s getting late. I need to rest and you need to head back to your own clearing for the night.”

At that, Bakugo made a low rumble and pulled away so he could properly look down at you. He seemed to curl himself into a tighter ball—nestled himself more comfortably in front of your cottage. You raised an eyebrow at him. “You can’t stay here,” you said slowly, but even then he only let out a huff and curled his tail around himself like he was going to sleep there. “No, Bakugo, seriously, you’re too big for this clearing. There’s no way you’ll be comfortable for the night.” 

He didn’t agree with you, it seemed, for he bared his teeth at you in a move that you supposed was to be threatening—but it wasn’t anymore. Not to you. He growled, but you only crossed your arms over your chest and lifted your chin as you held eye contact with one of his slitted, gemstone-like eyes. 

Stubborn bastard, you thought sourly when his gaze didn’t waver after a few moments of silence. Believe it or not, it was actually rather difficult to uphold a glare with a dragon—who knew. But you couldn’t be mad at him for wanting to stay, not really. His intentions behind it made your gaze soften as you let out a halfhearted sigh. 

“Okay, fine,” you acquiesced, your shoulders slumping. “But we really can’t stay here.” He wouldn’t be comfortable and you didn’t want to risk him getting caught camping out in front of your cottage—it would be too much to deal with if you had to explain. You chewed on the inside of your lip as you weighed your options, then tiredly rubbed the bridge of your nose. “Hang on.”

Bakugo made a rumbling sound as you turned around to shuffle back into your home—curious, perhaps, as to what you were doing. You slipped into your bedroom and grabbed a spare blanket from the closet that you tossed onto your bed. Then you rummaged around for some clean clothes and headed over to your bathroom so you could clean up. You grimaced at your reflection in the small, dinky mirror you had—dirt was smeared across your face, scratches littered your skin, and your hair was a mess of bits of grass and leaves. You’d seen better days, that was for sure.

You were quick with doing your best to scrub away all the dirt and tending to some of the deeper scratches on your face and palms. The clean clothes you tugged on made you feel better—fresher—and you swiped away the hair from your face as you tossed your ruined clothes in a corner of your little bathroom to deal with later. You grabbed the blanket you’d dropped onto your bed and shuffled back to the entrance, casting your gaze around the small space of your cottage before you closed the door and hid the spare key back in its flower pot once more.

“Alright,” you said once you turned around to look at Bakugo. He eyed the blanket overflowing in your arms like a cascading waterfall, then puffed out a cloud of smoke. “Let’s go, then.” 

You’d been prepared to make the painstakingly slow journey to his clearing on your own—a process that likely would’ve gotten more difficult as the last vestiges of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon—but it seemed like Bakugo had caught on to what you were doing. He snorted and lowered himself down to the soil-covered ground in front of you, tilting his body so you would have an easier time clambering atop his back. You gave him a smile and did as expected, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck with the blanket smushed underneath you.

His clearing wasn’t far from your cottage—it felt like you’d arrived within two or three flaps of his large wings. Bakugo landed smoothly on the ground and lowered himself so you could clumsily slide off of him. Your back gave a slight twinge, but at least it was much more manageable than it had been before. You patted his side as a thanks and picked your way over to the center of the clearing.

Seems comfy enough, you thought to yourself as you spread your blanket over the ground, patting down any particularly lumpy areas. Then you eased yourself onto it and let out a sigh as you crossed your hands behind your head and stared up at the inky sky. Splatters of white winked at you through the heavens, intermingled with specks of blood red and sunshine yellow. It was just light enough to be able to see, though the moon had yet to show its full face. You could sense the steadily cooling air as it settled across your skin. Maybe you should have brought another blanket.

You could feel, through the ground pressed against your back, the heavy steps Bakugo took as he circled around you. The vibrations made the hairs on your arms stand up—seemed to reverberate through your entire body. You craned your neck up and to the side to watch him settle around you in a crescent moon. He yawned widely, then nestled his head somewhere to your right atop his front legs. You lifted yourself up partially to look at him lying behind you—if you shimmied yourself back by a foot or so, you could rest your head on the smooth scales that made up his underbelly. 

So you did, awkwardly shuffling backwards until your upper body came into contact with the hearth-esque warmth that he radiated from his stomach. He chuffed gently as you made yourself comfortable, wrapping your blanket snugly around yourself like you were the filling in a flaky pastry. From the corner of your vision, you could see something dark curl closer towards you in a manner that made you tense up—his tail (not a snake, no, you breathed easily). 

You relaxed into him and stared up at the sky that was soon obscured by one of his large wings as it sloped over your head. “Happy now?” you murmured, quiet in the open clearing, but loud enough that he heard and made a soft rumble that you felt through his chest. You listened—for a moment—to the sounds of his gentle breathing, the rustling leaves, and the chirping insects, then closed your eyes.

And there—surrounded by the chilly night air, the cold grass that tickled at your skin—you felt warm.

There was a noticeable shift, in the following weeks, regarding the way Bakugo behaved around you. It was so stark—so different—from the way he’d previously been that it was impossible to not pick up on it.   

He started hovering over your cottage during the day—you noticed him through your little window more often than not. He sometimes landed upon the barren area of your garden while you were tending to things inside and peered a giant, crimson eye through the front door you left open for him. You let him so as he pleased for a day or two, but he couldn’t keep lingering around your home—you often had visitors, and you knew it would not bode well for you nor him if he stayed. You worried about the unspoken consequences. 

You told him just as much, but he was still unbearingly stubborn. However, he seemed to understand, albeit reluctantly, and toned down his visits… not by much, though.

In fact, he started flying around Yuuei more—looping around it in a massive circle whenever you were conveniently there for medicinal work or errands. You wondered how he knew when you were in the village, but figured it was easy enough for him to fly over your cottage and see if you were home or not. You did find that you still had a difficult time walking around properly—you were sore and had to use a spare cane in your closet for long treks. You supposed he was just keeping an eye on you, but well, you think you preferred him lingering around your cottage more so than this. It was startling—and a bit ominous to those who didn’t know him (that is, the entire village)—to see him flying so close. Especially since he hadn’t bothered to beforehand. He was not a bird in the sky, but rather he was close enough that you could see the way the tangerine and black markings on his scales absorbed the sunlight that gleamed off him like a shiny coin.

You had to admit, the shadow he cast upon the Earth—large enough to block out the sun and cover people in a darkness that felt just a bit too cold—was more than a bit terrifying. You were sure the villagers were uneased by his presence; you saw the looks on their faces, the way they would keep glancing up at the sky. Wonder and amazement had been replaced by anxiety and trepidation with a beat of his wings.

(“Is it scoping us out?” one villager whispered to another as they lingered under the awning of a shop—hoping the covering would conceal and protect them. “What does it want? My kids think it’s cool but they don’t understand the danger.”

“Mmmh, I don’t know,” the other replied, fidgeting with the bag they grasped in white-knuckled hands. “I hope it’s not… hungry…”) 

You grew antsy—nervous—at the whispers, but you knew if you told Bakugo to stop for the reasons you were thinking of, he would brush off your concerns. He was a dragon—he was strong enough to handle himself but… you knew he would not be unscathed if anyone particularly powerful came along. His still-healing wounds were evidence enough.

Something, however, that struck you a little odd was when you encountered Izuku whilst heading over to treat one of your patients in Yuuei. 

He’d been carrying what seemed like half of the village’s record collection when you—quite literally—ran into him. A waterfall of leather-bound books and scrolls tumbled to the paved ground. You stumbled back a bit, fumbling with your cane and bag of herbs and salves. Apologies spewed out of your mouth until you realized they were being mirrored by a rather familiar voice. Looking up, you were greeted with the sight of curly green hair and flushed, freckled cheeks. 

“I-I’m so sorry!” he stammered out, his hands hovering awkwardly over you as he glanced over your figure. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” 

“Izuku, I’m fine,” you told him with a small laugh as you straightened up and brushed away his hands. You hadn’t seen him in a while—he was awfully busy nowadays. With what, you weren’t privy to, but you supposed it wasn’t any of your business, not really. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m good— I ah”—he looked down at his feet and stooped down to start picking up his papers—“I should have been paying more attention to where I was going. Sorry—“ 

“It’s okay, really,” you soothed him again. He had a nasty habit of endlessly apologizing for things that weren’t even his fault. You bent down carefully so you could help him gather his things. One of the scrolls you grabbed had a golden seal that looked rather familiar. But before you could observe it more carefully, Izuku had grabbed it from your hands to stuff into his arms once more. 

“So, what—” Izuku cleared his throat as you stacked some books together. They looked handmade, now that you were close enough to see, and a bit worn from use. “What… happened?” 

“Hm?” You raised an eyebrow at him, then saw he was pointedly looking at the bandages around your ankle that poked out from the bottom of your pants. “Oh! I fell. Got my foot stuck around a tree root, sprained it pretty badly.” There was no way you were going to tell him you got injured while running away from a fucking basilisk. It would bring up the question of how you had escaped and, well… You still didn’t want to expose the odd friendship you had with a dragon. Not even to Izuku—and certainly not in public like this. 

“Ouch.” He grimaced and steadily rose to his feet once he’d picked up his belongings—the ones you didn’t grab, anyways. You used your cane to support most of your weight as you gingerly followed him up and meticulously stacked the books in your own hands onto his arms. “Thanks. Hopefully you feel better soon! I imagine being a healer yourself has its benefits.” 

You chuckled and adjusted your bag over your shoulder—it was a spare. “Yeah it does. I’m at least able to alleviate some of the pain with the salves I have. But anyways, where are you off to with all of that? I could hardly see your face poking over all those scrolls.” 

Izuku brightened, as though he was glad you were curious enough to ask. “Ah, turns out Yuuei’s got an amazing historical archive! Did you know All Might used to live here?” 

“Really?” You knew there was a tribute statue to him at the center of the village, but you didn’t really know much else about the swordsman other than that. He’d been a significantly powerful magic wielder, you think. Pretty unheard of for humans, though his time had been quite a while ago, so you weren’t all too sure. You didn’t care enough to do research.

“Yeah! There’s not really a lot of information about him here, though. I found a singular scroll and a few—“ 

Izuku abruptly cut himself off when a dark shadow passed over both your heads, momentarily dousing you in a coolness that was honestly a bit of a reprieve from the midday sun. You looked up to see Bakugo making his usual rounds about the village. His wings leisurely beat up and down, a sound that seemed so pronounced amongst the quiet bustle of the villagers that surrounded you. If you squinted up at him, you could see his giant, crimson eye surveilling the ground beneath him—it didn’t seem like he had spotted you yet. A small smile pricked at your lips. 

Izuku hummed and called your name, prompting you to look back at him. There was a rather contemplative look on his face, to your slight intrigue. Very ruminative. He was quiet for a moment more, then opened his mouth to speak. “You’ve lived here for a while, right? Have you… ever seen dragons around here before?” His voice was low and sounded… distant. Like he wasn’t exactly with you at the present day. 

You shook your head. “Not really. Why’re you asking?” 

Izuku stayed silent—to the point where you considered leaving him and seeing if he would notice—then seemed to snap out of his thoughts. He blinked a few times, then looked back at you with wide eyes. “Sorry! Gotta go! Can’t keep the missus waiting!” 

You were bemused, but waved him off all the same. He scurried away from you, occasionally glancing up at the sky as he left. Izuku certainly was… quirky, that was for sure. You sighed and looked back up at Bakugo to see him circling around Yuuei once more, a bright, crimson eye trained on your significantly smaller figure. You huffed lightly through your nose and set off to your intended destination. You brushed off Izuku’s strange behavior easily enough. Besides, you had more pressing matters to deal with…

Bakugo was worried, you knew he was. What had happened at the plateau was something you tried not to ruminate upon too heavily, but well, it was hard when your back still ached and your ankle still twinged. If you closed your eyes for too long, you could picture the grey scales of the terra basilisk, hear the slithering sounds it made as it chased you. But you didn’t let it affect you—tried not to. You pressed on and drowned yourself with work—with healing the rest of Bakugo’s wounds and tending to your duties as village healer. It worked, most of the time. You didn’t dare linger—didn’t dare let yourself be on your own in the silence for more than a few moments. 

And maybe Bakugo could see right through you—maybe he could tell you were avoiding addressing things. Maybe that was why he didn’t really leave you alone. 

Now that he knew you were fine with sleeping in his clearing with him, he often wanted you to go there when evening fell. You didn’t mind, not particularly, though you definitely couldn’t go there every single night—you had things to do back at your own cottage. You sometimes got visitors for illnesses that onsetted or exacerbated overnight, so it was always best for you to be at home and ready. You entertained him when you could and drank a special tea you purchased at the market to help you have a dreamless sleep. But it could only work for so long, you knew. It was a problem for the future.

You did, eventually, have to face part of your fears. Bakugo took you back to the plateau a week or so later to retrieve your bag. It was inevitable and you were aware that he had been patiently waiting for you to approach him the entire time. You were reluctant and dragged your feet for quite a while, but eventually you steeled your resolve. You would be fine, you told yourself. You would be fine.

And you were… for the most part. 

The moment your feet came into contact with the grass of the plateau, you felt unsteady. Disconnected. You knew the basilisk had been taken care of and yet, you still felt stifled. Like there was a pillow pressing into your lungs, filling your throat and mouth with cotton. You took a deep breath and picked your way over to your bag, avoiding the overturned patches of grass and dirt. Bakugo trailed behind you like a large, deadly shadow. His head hovered just over your shoulder—so that you could feel the warm puffs of air from his nostrils. It was grounding. 

You wasted no time in snatching up your bag and checking to see that it contained a decent amount of Zenith flowers—there was no need for the entire experience to be a waste. It would make you feel even shittier than you currently did. After stuffing a few more Zeniths into your bag, you clambered back atop Bakugo and let him take you home. That was enough adrenaline to last you a lifetime. You definitely wouldn’t be returning anytime soon… 

He made you stay with him that night again, curling around you as you rested on the ground and stared up at the inky sky. You spent some time pointing out some of the constellations you knew of to him, the cool air hardly noticeable from your position surrounded by the warmth he naturally radiated. You lost yourself in telling him stories that you scrounged up from the deepest depths of your brain, hoping that they would serve you well in distracting your mind from the darker path it wanted to veer towards. 

“—so when Vivithia gave her life to guide those crossing the border to safety, the Gods took the dust from her remains and scattered them across the sky,” you told Bakugo quietly, not daring to break the tranquility of the clearing, “forming the stars we see today. At least, according to legend. It is ultimately a tale of sacrifice—and love, if you think about how her lover was able to survive due to her actions.” 

Bakugo snorted out a puff of dark smoke that you watched dissipate towards the sky, spreading amongst the stars. “There are different versions of the story that I’ve heard, but they all end the same way.” You craned your head back so you could peer at him curiously. “I don’t suppose you have legends like that, do you?” 

He rumbled idly in a way that made you wonder if he was tired. The moonlight gleamed off his scales in a way that made them look opaque—pearly, almost. His eyes, half-lidded from where his head rested on his front legs, were like a pair of smoldering coal, ready to be put out for the night. You returned your gaze to the glistening sky. “Yeah, you probably can’t tell me anyw—” Something caught your eye. 

It was stark against the twinkling whites and deep navy of the night sky—a burnt golden speck that kept getting larger and larger. Bakugo made a noise and shifted when you didn’t say anything else, curious. You tilted your head and sat up, squinting at the speck until it got close enough that you could reach a hand out to touch it. 

“Oh!” you said in pleasant surprise when you felt something graze your fingers. You pulled your hand back closer to your face to inspect the little insect that sat on it. “A lightning bug!” 

The bug was a small thing that radiated light from underneath its fuzzy body. Two large eyes peered at you, its antenna twitching slightly as it crawled along the back of your fingers and hand. It kind of tickled. 

Bakugo huffed in a manner that caused you to look up towards him. It seemed like a small swarm had ventured into the clearing: there were more lightning bugs flying around his head—little specks that brought along some warmth to the coolness of the surrounding forest. Some of the bugs had settled atop his nose and were crawling up along it. You grinned; he didn’t look all too amused. 

“Careful,” you warned him when his lips parted to bare sharp teeth at the insects that scattered around him. “They’re called lightning bugs for a—” One of the bugs grew brighter and brighter until a small bolt fired from it, hitting Bakugo’s nose with a small zap! He jerked his head back—almost in offense—and puffed out a cloud of dark smoke. You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing. “…reason.” 

You smiled and looked around at the dots of warm, honey-colored light that floated around the area. You lay back down on the ground with a sigh. “It’s nice being able to come out in the forest and encounter different kinds of magical fauna, you know?” Your eyes followed a lightning bug as it bumbled across your field of vision. “It’s different from the capital,” you murmured, then frowned, “though actually I… haven’t really seen many fairies around recently. They usually like to cause mischief. I wonder…” 

Bakugo snorted in response and you looked at him to see him resting his head back on the ground. He yawned widely—content with ignoring the lightning bugs for now. It was getting pretty late. You wrapped your blanket around your body and slid closer to his warmth. You spent a moment just watching the flickering golden lights before your vision was obscured by a large, ombré wing. Well, that was a sign as any. You decided not to dwell on things for now. 

“Yeah, time to sleep”—you yawned back at him and closed your eyes—“Good night, Bakugo.” 

A few weeks later, you were out in the village running your usual errands when you noticed something… strange. 

You would like to say that some of the tension at having Bakugo constantly circling around the village had dissipated by now. Or, at least, you didn’t see as many people nervously glancing up at the sky anymore. It seemed they had just needed to see that he wasn’t much of a threat and in fact didn’t really… do anything to anyone. You supposed time had a hand with easing nerves, but you were sure they were still present—just not as prevalent. 

That being said, it came as a surprise to you when you saw people murmuring to each other in little groups—looking around them as though afraid they might be overheard. You were curious as to what they were conversing about—but well, they weren’t really looking up at the sky so you supposed it wasn’t in relation to Bakugo. He had eased up his circling around the village by now—seeing that you were doing quite better. Your back only twinged when you did sharp motions and you were walking around with just a slight limp—barely noticeable, really, unless someone was looking for it. Though, you were sure Bakugo would be flying around you if he could—you saw him circling around Mount Kamino earlier, perhaps for a change in scenery.

You finally understood what the whispers were about when you passed by the Blacksmith’s shop. 

He was there talking to Aizawa—a tired man with a nasty case of dry eye whom you visited on occasion to supply with special eye drops. It was hard not to notice him, with how heavy-built he was. He loomed significantly over Aizawa, who exchanged curt words with him whilst bathed in his shadow. He looked prepared for a fight, decked out in thick clothing with just as thick silver armor covering every part of his body. A large sword—the blade wider than your head and thrice as long as your own arm—lay sheathed across his back. It made a shiver run down your spine. 

When you walked past them, you were able to see a bracelet strapped to the man’s right wrist. It was made of leather, and sitting atop it was a large jewel. Mellow tangerine in color and very… vibrant. There was something… odd about it. Something that made you feel like a hand had grabbed your insides and twisted them about. But you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it. 

A chanced glance up at the man’s face allowed you to see the pinched glare settled across his features—the scar that marred the left side of it. You averted your gaze before he could notice your staring and scurried down the stone path to a familiar pub. 

The moment you entered through the doors, Denki looked up from where he was cleaning the bartop and dropped the rag in his hands. 

“Did you hear the news!?” he instantly shouted at you, then quieted down significantly at the looks he got from some of his customers lounging around in the booths. 

“Hear it? More like I saw it,” you whispered as you slid onto a stool in front of the bar. You leaned in closer towards him. “What the hell is King Enji doing here?” 

“I have no idea,” Denki whispered back, his golden eyes peering widely into your own, “but Hanta told me he’s staying at his inn, so he’s definitely planning to be here for a bit.” 

“When did he get here, do you know?” You didn’t remember seeing him when you were in the village a few days ago. 

“Earlier today, I think.” He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s when I started hearing people talking about it, anyway. Is it true he looks like he’s about to go to war?” 

You nodded. “Yeah. I just saw him talking to Aizawa about something.” 

Denki snorted. “Aizawa’s not gonna tell him shit, he hates any and all royal families.” 

You let out a pfft. You didn’t blame him, honestly. From what you’ve seen of the royal family of the capital—King Enji’s, in fact—they were… not quite regarded in a good light. “Do we even know what he wants?” 

“No idea,” Denki replied worriedly. He picked back up the rag and started cleaning at a stain—perhaps for something to do with his hands. “But it can’t be anything good.” 

You hummed your agreement, then fell quiet as you ruminated. It was quite odd to see someone like King Enji this far from the capital. He didn’t seem like the type to make such a voyage recreationally; there had to be a reason. The way he was dressed only made that twisted feeling in your stomach more pronounced. You didn’t know how fast news spread across regions, but, well… You weren’t stupid. His appearance—his awfully weaponized appearance—said enough. 

You worried, more than you should—and you knew this worry was not unfounded. You glanced out of one of the windows of Denki’s pub and frowned at the hazy sight of Mount Kamino. Dread seemed to pool in your gut.

You left with a quick farewell to Denki and an excuse that you had more shopping to do. The trek back to your cottage was a bit of a long one, but it went by faster than usual as you hurried down stone paths and kept your eyes peeled for any more glimpses of King Enji. He had disappeared elsewhere—you didn’t know whether to feel relieved or anxious. 

You wondered if Bakugo would even be in his clearing, if he had even gotten back yet from his leisurely roaming, but you heard him even before you broke through the tree lining. He looked up as you walked towards him, your eyes automatically sweeping across his wounds to make sure they were fine (they were), then looked away to continue idly stretching out his back and wings. 

“Hey”—you cleared your throat—“I’m gonna preface this by saying I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself,” you started as you stopped in front of him. He tilted his head towards you with a chuff to let you know he was listening. You bit at your lower lip for a moment, then released it. “But I was in the village earlier and King Enji was there talking to peop—” 

His head snapped towards you so fast you wondered if he got whiplash. You cut yourself off abruptly at the snarl he released, your eyes widening as he reared his head back and exhaled a plume of dark smoke. You blinked at him in surprise and stepped back when his wings fanned out behind him, his spikes bristling angrily. “Whoa! What? Something wrong? You don’t like him?” You hadn’t seen him react this viciously to something in a… while. 

Bakugo hissed, his eyes shrinking into carmine slits. He gave his wings a few pointed flaps, then stomped his hind leg—the one that had a wound close to it. You stared at the tender scarring on his flank for a moment, your jaw dropping open. 

“Oh shit,” you whispered, “is that how you got those?” A rough growl was all the confirmation you needed. 

Your heart sank; there was only one reason why King Enji would be in Yuuei. It seemed like your worries had come to fruition. You rubbed at the bridge of your nose, suddenly tired. “He’s so power hungry that I’m somehow not surprised. He must’ve heard the news once you started flying around.” You had questions that could not be answered, but that was the least of your worries. Your main concern was what now? You took in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to deal with an irate dragon. 

“I don’t think,” you started slowly, “it would be a good idea for you to… be here, right now.” 

Bakugo didn’t seem to particularly like what you were saying. He looked taken aback for a split second—if you hadn’t been carefully watching him you wouldn’t have noticed—then bared his teeth at you in a snarl. He moved so that his head loomed over your significantly smaller form, slitted eyes daring you to say another word. You held your ground. “Look, I already said I know you can handle yourself, but I really think laying low or— or even going somewhere else might be the right thing to do here.” Bakugo snapped his jaw in disagreement. “Your injuries are mostly healed, but not fully, and I worry that anything… strenuous might tear them open again.” 

The growl he let out was nearly thunderous. He reared back on his hind legs, fanning out his wings to make himself appear larger. He gave them a singular, large flap—purposeful. Powerful. You raised an arm up to cover your face as it sent pieces of grass and dust swirling about in the air. He huffed out a plume of smoke that washed over your body and filled your nose with the smell of burnt caramel. When he landed back on his raised legs, you felt the impact shake through the ground. You frowned. 

“I know you’re strong,” you told him again gently, “but it’s okay to run sometimes, y’know? It’s not worth dealing with him—“ 

His snarl bordered on a tumultuous roar, his tail lashing out behind him with a fervor that made you only a bit uneasy. He was getting really angry—was what you were saying that unreasonable? Or was there something else at play here? You didn’t know, you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him again, worry tinting your voice. He made a deep rumbling sound from his chest, his body tensing. “Why are you acting—”

He didn’t even wait for you to finish your sentence. With two large motions of his wings he’d taken to the skies, the generated wind whipping your clothes and hair around like you’d been caught out in a deadly storm. 

“Bakugo!” you called out helplessly, your voice getting lost in the repetitive flapping of his wings as he flew further and further away—towards Mount Kamino. There was a moment where all you could hear was the rustling of the trees around you, the occasional chirp from the wildlife that frolicked within the leaves. Your shoulders slumped and you ran a weary hand down your face. 

There was something wrong and you had no idea what.

You made the slow trek back to your cottage, heavily contemplating Bakugo’s reactions and what they may mean. You didn’t have a single clue, unfortunately, and his clear anger left you in a funk. You couldn’t really concentrate on anything. You kept an eye on your windows and often went outside to look up at the blue sky for a hint of gold, but Bakugo kept to himself. You spotted him flying around Mount Kamino on occasion—disappearing beyond it at times—so you knew he hadn’t left, but it still bothered you. Surely he wasn’t pissed at you for showing concern, right? You couldn’t be entirely certain. Everything just seemed to spiral out of your control.

You didn’t see him for the rest of the day and your restlessness carried into the night as you lay by yourself on your little cottage bed. You supposed he just wanted time on his own, maybe to stew in his own frustrations and whatever the cause for them may be. You understood, you did, but still… 

Stupid dragon, you thought to yourself as you rolled over and buried yourself in your blankets. 

The following day, you went about your usual routine with as minimal distractions as possible. You kept an eye out for King Enji while you were walking around in Yuuei and spotted him talking to a few more villagers here and there. You were caught between feeling relieved and nervous, though you didn’t let yourself linger around him for more than a few moments. 

It wasn’t until evening was about to fall that you heard familiar flapping just outside your cottage before the ground shook nearly imperceptibly. Your heart seemed to jump up to your throat as you paused from cleaning up some dishes. Was he—? You looked over at your windows and wiped your hands on your clothes before you speed walked over to your front door to open it with surprising vigor. 

“Finally back, huh?” you murmured with a raised eyebrow, trying not to show exactly how relieved you were that he had specifically approached you first. Bakugo rumbled as he curled himself in front of your cottage, his head lowering slightly so he could look at you properly. You reached out to rest one of your hands against his nose and smoothed over the scales there with your thumb. “Calmed down?” Being on his own must have worked wonders if he was no longer as angry as he had been yesterday. 

He snorted out a light cloud of smoke into your face and gently nudged at you with his head—his own little way of apologizing. You exhaled through your nose. “You’re really a piece of work to deal with, you know that?” He snorted again as though to say I know, then drew his head away and gave you a steady look. You tilted your head in curiosity. “Something wrong?” 

There was a moment where all he did was stare at you—a prolonged gaze that made you feel like you could be sucked into the deep carmine of his eyes. It was strange; like you were being analyzed or assessed—stripped down to your very soul. Then, he made a click from his chest and lifted his head higher. Your gaze was drawn to the base of his neck—watching as it glowed angel-white in that familiar way when he had roasted the food you’d brought him. Except, it just kept growing brighter and brighter and brighter—to the point where you had to shield your eyes with your arm, a confused “what?” escaping your lips. And as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Your eyebrows were furrowed when you lowered your arm. Then they shot up in surprise. 

There, gripped in the claws of one of his front legs, was a gem. 

It was a deep, iridescent crimson that matched the color of his eyes—a glimmering pool of blood that radiated a heat like no other. There was something electrifying about it, something that made the soft hair on your arms stand up straight. It seemed to pulse with power; gleamed brightly even in the steadily darkening environment. The gem was about the size of your head, maybe smaller, but it was gripped easily in Bakugo’s claws like he was holding a ripe apple. You were dumbstruck staring at the gem—it was like you couldn’t pull your gaze away from it. Like it was sucking you into its core, demanding that all your attention stayed on it. You swallowed thickly. You understood, at that moment, why dragons were so powerful—why they were hunted. 

“That’s… You’re…” you trailed off as you stared—mesmerizingly—at his gem. You had to steel your resolve and tear your gaze away from it to look up at Bakugo. He nudged your arm with the claws holding onto his gem, purposely. You blinked, wide-eyed. “You’re… giving it to me?” Suddenly, your mouth felt like it was coated in cotton. Your heart seemed to still in your chest. 

He was waiting, patiently, for you to do something. Your movements felt stiff as you looked at the gem, then back at him. Once, twice. And you found the strength somewhere within you to reach out and grasp the gem in clammy hands. It was heavy—like a sack of flour—but you held on tight and brought it close to your chest. It seemed to hum in your palms; made you feel like you were standing next to a large bonfire. Confusion plagued your thoughts—sent them racing around your head. 

“But— but why…” You tore your gaze away from the gem once more to look back at Bakugo. He was watching you carefully, a gleam to his rounded eyes that you couldn’t quite make out. “Why are you…” It was then that you noticed he had shifted: his wings had moved to fan out behind him, his legs were tensed like he was a breath away from jumping into the air. Something seemed to click in place and you went still. “Wait— you’re leaving?” 

He rumbled a noise that only made your heart sink. This, you feared, would not be like the previous day where he’d simply needed time to himself. No, this was something more. Something that you worried would not leave him unscathed—that was perhaps inevitable. And maybe it was something in your expression, your stance, but he lowered himself back down until his head pressed against your front. You cradled the gem in one hand—near your heart—and used the other to hold his head closer. 

“You’ll be back, right?” you asked in a quiet voice. Bakugo nudged you gently with his head and puffed a cloud of smoke at the gem in your hand—a reassurance, a promise. You didn’t know why you were so… affected by everything. Why your chest ached like it was full of water. Deep down you always knew he would eventually have to leave—but you didn’t think it would be this soon. That King Enji’s presence would be the catalyst of it all. You loathed him for it like you loathed him for all the bastardly deeds he had no doubtfully done as king. You thought you had more time. 

And—not for the first time—you wondered why. Why was he doing this, why was it important that he did? Why, why, why. You didn’t have any answers and it didn’t seem like you would be getting them anytime soon—if not ever. It all just… seemed so much bigger than you. Like it had always been from the moment you’d encountered Bakugo in that dark, dark cave. He was a dragon and you were, well… you. 

But you knew what you had to do. 

You would protect Bakugo’s gem—keep it safe for him to avoid having it fall into the wrong hands during… whatever was about to happen. This, you could do with utmost certainty. 

You let out a shaky breath, then stood on the tips of your toes so you could press a kiss to Bakugo’s forehead. It was like kissing a stone smoothed down from the elements, a warm mug filled with hot tea. It was the last thing you could give him, for now. You don’t think he had expected it, for he made the smallest of sounds, then seemed to press further into your touch. 

“Stay safe, okay?” you whispered to him once you’d pulled away. He leaned back so you could stare into his eyes. “I never got to fully finish healing you, after all. You should be fine but, well, I don’t wanna have to patch you up again.” You kept your voice light to let him know you were teasing him. 

Bakugo snorted and with one final, long look at you, he spread his ombré wings and took off. You watched, squinting against the wind he generated, as he rose into the sky in the direction of Yuuei. He disappeared beyond your line of sight once he passed over the trees—but you still heard the loud roar he let out. Felt it reverberate in your bones; a declaration of war. You gripped onto the gem more tightly than before and stood there watching the darkening sky as it transitioned from burnt mandarin to royal purple. It was a moment before Bakugo passed back overhead—a dark shadow against the twinkling whites of the galaxy—this time in the direction of Mount Kamino. 

You closed your eyes and let out a sigh that only the stars could hear. Then you turned around and headed back inside your little cottage, closing the front door behind you with a small click. 

part four

I read something on Reddit a few days/weeks? ago where there’s this guy got a cat which he loves! And then he met and dated this vegan woman. He changed his lifestyle to vegan bec he’s okay with it but the gf doesn’t like his cat. So they only go to her place most of the time. Then the gf wanted to move in together but she wanted him to give away his cat bec his cat is not vegan and that’s just not “their” lifestyle.

He broke up with the gf and picked the cat. Good for him and his baby cat.

I have two moods

No but in all seriousness, memes aside, much love to all my friends in the UK right now. I know shit's about to be chaotic and nationalistic and shitty, and I hope the media circus ends as quickly as possible.

30. Interrupted (Steve/Tony)

Tony was working himself up into a rant. Well, a bigger rant. It hadn’t taken much to set him off this morning and only been one person had said one thing and, well…

Steve wasn’t sure what had actually been said, but it was enough to make Tony mad and he was just off. He’d been ranting for nearly 5 minutes now, which was highly impressive – not that Steve was listening to what he was saying. 

No, Steve was more focused on the way Tony’s whole body moved as he spoke, how his arms flailing to accent a point and how his hips swayed as he gestured wildly. Steve was also enthralled by the light in Tony’s eyes that showed his passion as his lips twisted into a number of different shapes to form his words. His cheeks were flushed and were only growing darker with every gasped breath as Tony’s words grew stronger and more enraged.  

Today was going to be the day. The thought almost took Steve by surprise, his own brain making decisions for him that came out of the blue. 

But it wasn’t out of the blue, was it? He and Tony had been dancing around this for ages, whatever ‘this’ was. There was only one way to put a definition on that, anyway, Steve told himself. He had to try. 

Before he had really registered what he was doing, Steve was crossing the room with wide strides. As soon as he was close enough, Steve took Tony’s face in his hands and bent down ever so slightly, just enough to make his lips level with Tony’s.

The kiss was perfect.

Tony was taken completely by surprise so Steve was able to position him exactly where he wanted him, angling his neck back as his tongue swept across Tony’s bottom lip. It didn’t take Tony long at all to get with the programme and he gave up control willingly, his arms looping around Steve’s neck as their lips slotted together perfectly. The kiss was long and slow, deep and passionate, and Steve craved more. He pulled Tony closer to him by his hips, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist as he groaned loudly at the delicious taste of him.

When they pulled apart there was silence in the room. Steve didn’t pay any attention to any of their friends openly staring at them as he kept his eyes firmly on Tony, their gazes locked together as Steve waited for Tony to speak first. It didn’t take long before Tony opened his mouth, but he only said one word.

“Yeah?”

Steve broke into a wide and slow smile and bent down to brush his lips against Tony’s once more. “Yeah.”

You’ll do it for Jacob. It’s like you said. Whatever it takes. CHRIS EVANS in Defending Jacob (2020)

Masterpiece, this is all I'm gonna say

holding out (just for you) [1] || katsuki b.

pairing: dragon!bakugo katsuki x reader

word count: 13.8k+

mentions: female reader, fantasy au, descriptions of injuries, blood, not edited!!, aged up chars (24+), sfw, second pov, part of the bnha big bang collab!

with art done by the lovely @sdrawberrii-mochii !!! <;3 here is a link to the original post (give it some love!!!!) <3333

masterlist

You were going to fucking kill Denki. 

You’d been running low on your stash of Zenith flowers for a while. They were immensely useful for making salves, adding in that extra drop of healing magic to boost the recovery rate of any type of wound. Normally, you would just buy a batch at the village market, but they unfortunately didn’t have a single petal. The shopkeeper had shrugged at you and told you he hadn’t seen any on the usual plateau he went to for harvesting. Zenith flowers required very specific conditions to grow and thrive in, so you weren’t too disappointed about it, but you still needed some. You liked being prepared for any scenario, so to have very little salve or flowers left over in your pantry back at your little cottage made you feel extremely antsy—especially since you were the only healer for miles. Quite a lot of people tended to go to you whenever they were sick or hurt.

You made the mistake of complaining about it to Denki, one of the owners of the small pub nestled in the heart of the village of Yuuei. 

“Y’know, there should be Zenith flowers up on Kamino,” he told you smartly once you’d finished speaking, his hands moving as he prepped your order for you. “I saw some growing up there when I went hiking with Hanta the other week.” 

“Really?” You perked up, turning your head to look at the mountain looming just beyond the edge of Yuuei through one of the pub’s dainty windows. Mount Kamino was one of the main sources of herbs and food the village used since it was so closeby. You tended to venture along its hiking trails once in a while, in search of particular plants to use for ointments and creams. 

“Yeah!” He set down a wrapped pastry in front of you, then gave you a smile. “They’re pretty high up though, so I’d be careful if I were you.” 

You waved him off and rummaged around in your pockets for a few gold coins to slap onto the wooden bar between the two of you. “Pfft, I’ll be fine. These arms aren’t just for show, you know.” You winked at him as you flexed, your biceps moving with the motion. 

Denki laughed, then shot you a sly smile as he leaned closer to you across the bar. You could practically see the mischievous sparkle in his golden eyes. “We could make it a date, y’know? Go hiking together? Come on, pretty lady, it’ll be fun~” He winked and reached out a hand to tuck a stray strand of hair out of your face.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed his face away with your hand and ignored the way he snickered into your palm. He never relented with his incessant flirting, even after all the years you’ve been friends with him. “No thank you. I’m good. Thanks for the food, I’ve gotta go.” 

“You should still consider it!” he called out cheekily after you as you left the pub, getting only a distant laugh and a flap of your hand in response. 

The journey back to your little cottage was a bit of a long one. Since you were currently at the center of Yuuei, you had to walk all the way to its northern edge, past bustling families and open booths of food. The paved paths weren’t difficult to navigate, though you constantly had to duck to the side to avoid the people wandering about or to prevent any laughing children from running into you. It was nice to be able to mingle with people like this—hear the gentle murmur of conversation around you and see the bright smiles aimed your way. You weren’t necessarily popular, per se, but well—you waved to what seemed like the seventh person who called out your name cheerfully in greeting—you certainly made a name for yourself here. 

It wasn’t long before you were gently picking your way through a slim path in the forest just offset from Yuuei’s perimeter. Canopies of trees rustled overhead, an occasional chirp of the regional teal-feathered birds delicately fluttering by your ears. The sunlight from above was just able to poke its way to the dirt-covered ground, casting everything in a warm, golden light. This part of your journey home was always the nicest, in your opinion. The sounds of bumbling nature were a sharp contrast from those of the village; you found constant peace in it. 

A few turns this way and that along the path and you were eventually able to see your quaint cottage nestled comfortably among the green of the shrubs and trees that surrounded it. Before it was a small garden you poured your heart and soul into cultivating. It was organized in a way only you were privy to, a section dedicated to various herbs and magical plants while another was dedicated to consumables like lettuce and berries. You were very proud of it and you couldn’t help but sweep an eye around it to make sure everything was growing well. 

The dirt below your feet soon transitioned to a stoned path that led up to your quaint front door. You made sure to take your shoes off outside before stepping in and placing them on the little shoe rack you’d made so long ago. Your home was a bit small yet cozy, with low hanging ceilings made of oak. You had more potted plants scattered about, close to the windows where they could absorb as much sunlight as they could. There were various spices and dried plants hung up on the walls, allowing a fresh, earthy smell to permeate the air. Soft chairs and cushions were arranged neatly around the bricked fireplace to the right, a wooden table laden with small bottles of liquids and creams just off to the left of them. Further beyond that were the crowded cabinets that made up your kitchen, a small hall next to them that led to a tiny bathroom and bedroom. It wasn’t much, but it was yours.

You bustled around, stepping over some books you’d left piled on the floor as you prepared a bag for your trip to Mount Kamino. It was still quite early, so you were sure to be back long before it got dark if you left now—it would only take a few hours or so to walk up, not including the hours you’d no doubtedly spend just looking at all the flora. You stuffed a canteen of water in your bag along with the pastry you got from Denki. A ball of string and a small book with its accompanying ink bottle and quill joined them. After glancing around once more, you donned a thicker pair of leather boots made for hiking along with a light jacket and exited your home. 

Your cottage was not too far off from the base of the mountain. You took your time to trek through the winding paths that started to steadily slope uphill, your eyes peeled for any plants you wanted to grab. The canopies overhead were getting increasingly ladened with green leaves the further you walked, blocking out more of that glimmering sunlight. You busied yourself on occasion with stopping to observe certain plants and jotting down details in your little book. You liked to keep track of the different flora around you—your notebook was full of scribbles of various observations and drawings of a multitude of plants. 

“Luna flowers,” you murmured at one point to yourself, crouched down near the flat stump of a tree that had small, purple flowers growing in abundance around it. They were good for treating nasty infections. You picked a handful and wrapped their slim stems with a piece of the string you’d brought. Stocking up wouldn’t be a terrible idea—you might as well since you were up on the mountain anyways. Setting the bundle into your bag carefully, you stood up and continued on your way, keeping an eye out for any other flowers you could gather. 

You forgot just how dense the paths were on Mount Kamino. You had to be careful of your steps, your gaze steadily trained on the ground beneath you to avoid any tree roots or unstable pieces of rock. You ended up stopping quite a few times to record new plants you’d never seen before on the mountain trails. It wasn’t unusual for the bubbling river along the mountain to carry seeds from other places that eventually latched onto the soil and grew, or for the wind along the leeward side to blow spores down to the dirty ground. In any case, it gave you access to a plethora of material to use for healing. It was your own little treasure trove, in a way.

It always took you a while to jot down small details and sketch realistic drawings of the plants you found. Eventually, you found yourself hoisting a thick bag full of way more plants than what you came for onto your shoulder. You still made sure you had room for Zenith flowers, though. For now, you decided that would be your ultimate goal, so you focused your energy into scaling the side of the mountain. Your thighs were starting to burn from all the climbing as you scrambled over large pieces of rock and shuffled your way up steep inclines. The trees around you thinned out before disappearing, all the dirt being replaced by grey rock covered with slippery moss. 

Your eyes darted up to the sky for a moment, finally able to see it clearly instead of all the low-hanging branches heavy with green leaves that made up the forest. There were clouds starting to gather overhead, light grey in color, but still scattered about over the far side of the mountain. It wasn’t anything to be worried about just yet, but you still found yourself picking up the pace. Getting caught out in a storm was not ideal when you were this high up.

Your eyes were peeled for the familiar cerulean of the Zenith flowers, wondering just how far up you would have to go to see them. But finally, finally, you caught a glimpse of them sitting at the edge of a piece of rock that stuck out against the mountain like an odd, upside-down nose. Looked like Denki had been telling the truth—not that you’d doubted him. Flora wasn’t his expertise, was all you were saying. You huffed as you eyed the flowers, already knowing you would have to climb up against the rock carefully if you wanted to make it up there in one piece. 

So off you went, slowly picking your way up to the little cliff. Sweat was beading up on your skin, hands getting slippery as you searched for small ledges and holes in the stone wall before you so you could shimmy your way up. It was taxing work, the bag on your back seemingly getting heavier and heavier the longer you wore it. But it would be worth it, you kept telling yourself, once you had a restocked supply of Zenith flowers. They were just too useful and important to pass up. 

After what seemed like ages, you managed to hoist yourself over the edge of the little cliff, panting from all the exertion. You crawled forward and sat down on your ass so you could rummage in your bag for your canteen of water. You drained half of it in one large gulp and brought your hand up to wipe your mouth right after. Before you was the wide expanse of the forest, an ocean of green swaying to and fro in the breeze. You were pretty high up, and if you squinted slightly you could see the distant buildings of Yuuei. The wind was starting to pick up and you shivered before wrapping your jacket more snugly around yourself. It was a nice view, even if it was a bit chilly up here. 

This was worth it, you told yourself again, sliding your canteen back into your bag. Now all you had to do was gather a bunch of flowers and you could head back down to the warmth of your home. 

Standing up, you brushed off your pants before walking over to a patch of blue. You crouched down, intending to pick them quickly, when something caught your eye. Zenith flowers characteristically had heart-shaped leaves with soft edges. But these ones in the ground had jagged, oval-shaped leaves littered with small thorns. Your eyes narrowed. 

They weren’t Zenith flowers—they were Nadir flowers, its poisonous opposite. 

“Denki, you fucking idiot.” You sighed, hoisting yourself up to glare down at the plants swaying innocently in the wind. Of course he wouldn’t know the difference. The dumbass probably saw the familiar cerulean and assumed they were Zenith. You rolled your eyes and leaned down to carefully pick one of the Nadir flowers and stow it in a pocket within the deepest depths of your bag, away from the other plants you had in there. You’d have to give Denki a lesson on flora—he clearly needed it. 

Before you could even begin to stew in disappointment and a low-simmering irritation, a bright flash of light lit up the sky. You paused, eyes widening, as you looked up to see dark, swirling clouds peeking over the tip of the mountain. They were being blown in your direction, finally revealing themselves with a gust of frigid air. One second passed. Then another. 

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The thunder that erupted following the flash of lightning was so loud your eardrums nearly popped. You had hardly a moment’s time to react before what seemed like a waterfall of rain descended upon you, soaking you in an instant. 

“Shit,” you cursed, throwing your hands up over your face as the incoming wind battered you with the force of a thousand basilisks. You hadn’t seen the gathering stormclouds from your position on the mountain; you were too close to its face to see that they’d been cleverly hiding on the opposite side, slowly creeping in your direction. Another flash of lightning cracked through the sky and you realized it was getting absurdly dark. It wouldn’t be long before you’d be blind and at the complete mercy of the mountain. You needed to find shelter, and you needed to find it fast. 

So you moved, desperately looking around for a cave of sorts that you could duck into. Maybe even some rocks that could at least partially shield you from the wind. Your boots were starting to slip against the wet rock below you—it would definitely be too dangerous to try to climb down the mountain in this type of weather. You’d likely slip and bust your head right open. 

Thunder rocked through the air once more, the wind howling ferociously around you as you scrambled along giant fragments of stone. Your eyes were peeled for any obvious openings in the mountain and it was by pure chance that a quick flash of lightning illuminated the gaping maw of a cave somewhere up higher on the path you were on. You cursed at how far up it was, but pressed on anyway, taking your time to pick your way towards it.

With only a few instances where you almost slipped and tumbled down the watery slope you were on, you finally managed to reach the cave. Puffing from the exertion, you retreated a few feet into it, just so you could get out of the torrential rain and raging wind. You whirled around, shivering, as you looked out at the darkness that had settled over the mountain and surrounding forest. You could hardly see a thing apart from the waves of water that poured down, the wind thunderously raging just beyond your temporary little safe haven.

Which brought you to your current predicament—using Denki as a scapegoat as you cursed him to hell and back for trapping you in a cave for god-knows-how-long.

“Great.” You frowned, plopping your bag onto the cave’s floor. The material was mostly water resistant, thank god, but it still made an odd squelching noise when you pressed your foot against it to see how much water had been repelled and how much absorbed. You shrugged out of your jacket, figuring it wouldn’t be a good idea to be wearing the soaked material. Rubbing your hands along your arms as though that could warm you up a bit, you turned to face the abyss-like darkness of the cave. Maybe there were some dry materials in here you could use to start a fire. It was a long shot, but it wouldn’t hurt to look.

Something glowing in the near distance caught your eye. 

It was faint, almost nonexistent, in the deep void that made up the cave. It glimmered in a way that reminded you of shiny metal reflecting dim light. You squinted at it, edging a bit closer so you could make out just what you were seeing.

The glow was gold in color, and as you crept steadily closer, you saw it spanned across quite a bit of the width of the cave. You blinked, trying to force your eyes to adjust to the low lighting. Your eyes moved from one side of the cave to the other until they landed on two glowing, crimson dots. You tilted your head, trying to decipher what those dots could be, when they suddenly slitted vertically. Your eyes widened, watching as the slits rose up and up and up, over your head. It was then that you realized a low growling had erupted around you, dangerously echoing through the cave. 

A flash of lightning briefly lit up your surroundings. You swallowed thickly, hands clenching down on your upper arms where they were crossed over your chest.

You were staring at a fucking dragon.

Dragons were not unheard of in this day and age, though they were rare to see. They tended to keep to themselves, living in the mountainous regions to the north. You’d seen them flying overhead the village a total of two times in the course of your life, mere pinpricks in the vast sky. For the most part, they’d disappeared from the masses, staying out of sight and out of mind for many, many years. You often wondered how it was possible for them to stay hidden from the human population for so long, being such large and attention-demanding creatures.

That being said, the dragon before you was stupidly huge, glimmering gold scales covering it from head to tail. You couldn’t be any taller than its shoulder, honestly, just barely able to make out the golden spikes that popped up along its spine from your position. Though, what really stood out to you were the black and orange markings that fluidly spanned its body. Intricate designs started at the crown of its head and traced down its long, golden neck, before ending at the tip of its tail. They were strangely enticing to look at, especially since you’d never seen them before in your life. If you could stare at them some more, you were sure they’d whisper a story to you, but that was neither here nor there. 

The dragon’s glowing eyes were still sharply focused on you, the deep growling from its chest making the hairs on your arms stand up. You could see its jaw open, sharp teeth bared at you in a warning as it raised itself higher above you. You were sure if there was enough room, it would have opened its wingspan to appear even larger. It activated your fight or flight response, seeing it act so hostile. You raised your hands up in the universal sign for surrender, slowly backing away until its growling eased down only a tad. 

And it was then that you realized it was injured.

You knew that many people envied dragons for their strength, not only physically, but magically as well. They were intelligent creatures, and it was not unusual for particularly thick-headed people to go hunting for them in the hopes of stealing some of their power. With this in mind, you found your gaze trailing to the horrendous wounds scattered around its body. There was a deep, nasty-looking gash on its side stretching from its right shoulder all the way down to its mid-back. Another similar-looking cut was dangerously close to its right eye, gleaming with the fresh ruby red of blood. The way it gingerly tucked its wings close to its body let you know that it was probably injured there too, though you couldn’t really see all too well in the dark. And those were just the wounds you could barely make out on this side. 

A bad fight with a hunter? you mused as you stepped back further. Or with something much, much worse? 

You didn’t even want to entertain the idea of there being creatures powerful enough to vy against a motherfucking dragon. 

The way said dragon was still sharply watching you, hissing lowly all the while, was starting to make you feel nervous. You didn’t really have many options here: stay in the cave and perish on the whim of a magical beast, or brave the storm outside and possibly tumble off the mountain to your death? Neither seemed very appealing to you. 

Though, you glanced momentarily back at the dragon’s vicious-looking wounds, you couldn’t just leave it in this condition, could you? You were a healer—you healed things. And those things didn’t stop at people. 

You didn’t think the dragon would just let you tend to its wounds, however. Not when it was still watching you with those blazing, slitted eyes, its body poised in a way that told you it was ready to strike at any moment’s notice. Any wrong move and you’d be a mere smear of ash in a small cave. You would need to tread cautiously. Smartly. It wouldn’t do you any good to underestimate the beast’s knowledge and power. 

Come on, think! you thought to yourself as you took another small step back to increase the distance between you and the dragon. You had a book of magical creatures sitting in a small, dusty corner of your cottage. You remembered reading it—tracing the small section on dragons that was inscribed within its pages with your fingers. Not much was known about them, but surely there was something that could help you at this moment? 

Let’s see, let’s see… If you were remembering correctly, dragons were very noble creatures—easily offended. They demanded respect and recognition of their strength. You eyed the snarling dragon in front of you. What could you do to show it that you meant no harm? That you knew it was powerful and that you were at its mercy and not the other way around?

Biting at your lower lip, you decided on what you would do. 

Maintaining eye contact, you sank into a deep bow, keeping your hands raised near your ears. You knew this would make you appear immensely vulnerable to the dragon, your guard lowered as your bare neck was exposed to it. After a few seconds of watching the dragon, you averted your gaze to stare down at the ground instead. Then, you held your position. And waited. 

And waited…

...and waited…

Until finally, the dragon chuffed, hot air heavily expelling from its nose like a volcano expelling ash. You almost shivered, feeling the air rush over your neck and back like a running river. You were reminded of how soaked you were, your hair sticking to your head in a coldly uncomfortable way. The growling by now had abated, a tense sort of silence filling the cave as you stared down at the ground and thanked whatever deity above that bowing had worked. 

You waited a little bit more, then slowly straightened up, your hands lowering so you could cross them over your chest. From this position, you could see the silent stare of the dragon, its bright, crimson gaze seemingly burning right into you. It was still tense, you noticed, still poised as though ready to fight. A steady drip… drip… drip… echoed faintly around the cave. You could just barely see its rich, burgundy blood dripping onto the wet floor beneath it. You needed to do something. 

“You’re hurt,” you spoke, then immediately flinched when the acoustics of the cave made your voice seem much louder than you’d intended. You got sharp teeth bared at you in response, a displeased growl coming from the dragon. You lowered your voice and tried again, purposely ensuring you sounded much gentler and quieter. “You’re hurt. I’m a healer—I can help you.” 

A drawn out hiss was all you got as an indication of the dragon’s thoughts. It tensed further, wings fanning out slightly as its eyes slanted at you. You could’ve sworn you saw the spikes along its back bristle, making it seem much more dangerous than before. This really wasn’t going well, you thought, trying to figure out what else you could do. 

“Those wounds don’t look too good,” you found yourself saying, your eyes momentarily diverting to the slash near its eye. “I’m sure dragons like yourself aren’t immune to infection. I can help, if you’ll let me.” With just a tiny bit of hesitation, you took the smallest step forward, hands moving back up in a placating manner. If you could properly see just how bad its wounds were—how life-threatening—it could help you decide on what actions to take and how urgently you would need to work. You did your best to relax your tense muscles, trying to seem aloof and calm in front of the dragon in case it thought you were going to attack. Its eyes snapped down to the small motion you made, and you immediately regretted stepping closer when the dragon snapped its jaw at you sharply. You could almost feel the faint brush of air its snapping jaw made as it hovered over you, its hissing escalating back to a growl. 

You took a much larger step back. “Okay okay… I’ll leave you alone.” It was clear that the dragon really didn’t want you doing anything—and you didn’t want to take any chances here either. You slowly walked backwards, keeping an eye on the dragon as you aimed for where you’d dropped your bag. The sounds of the rain got louder the closer you got to the cave’s entrance until it was all you could hear. You stopped once your foot came into contact with the wet material and watched as the dragon unwaveringly kept its focus on you. From your position, nearly at the mouth of the cave, you couldn’t really see much of the dragon’s form. Just the faintest gleam of gold and two pinpricks of crimson that let you know it was still watching you. 

Well... at least it wasn’t going to attack you for now... 

A shiver ran down your spine—from the dragon or the frigid air, you didn’t know. 

You chanced a glance back outside, looking at the way the rain harshly pounded at the side of the mountain, thunder rumbling loudly overhead in a way that reminded you of the deep growls of the creature before you. There was no way you were going back out there—you couldn’t take that risk.

Looked like you were going to be camping here for a while. 

Huffing slightly through your nose, you crouched down near your bag and opened it up, making sure to keep your front facing the dragon’s direction in case it decided it wanted to eat you after all. You shuffled around inside your bag’s pockets, pulling out various flowers and other flora you’d picked up on your way to the higher points of the mountain. It was really fucking lucky for the dragon that you’d accidentally come packed with so much material to take care of its wounds. Even if it didn’t realize that yet. 

You tugged out a bunch of Luna flowers, the purple petals a bit crumpled, but intact nonetheless. Your eyes flickered up in the direction of the dragon, latching onto those two glowing red dots that made up its eyes. Still watching you. You suppressed another shiver.

After laying out all your collected plants in a neat line before you, you picked up the bunches that were good for dealing with infected wounds and incessant bleeding, unraveling the bits of string you’d tied them with to drop in your bag. You didn’t really have anything to wipe up all the blood with though, but—you eyed your wet jacket on the floor—if you really needed to, you wouldn’t mind sacrificing your jacket. You had others anyways. 

With your arms full of flowers of purple, pale pink, and cream, along with the occasional batch of these thin, green stalks, you slowly headed back towards the dragon. There was something eerie about walking towards something you knew was… not pleased with your presence. Something eerie about knowing it was there, even if you couldn’t see it all too well. Wasn’t this how people died? 

Maybe you were being a fool, maybe you were out of your goddamn mind for daring to approach a fucking dragon. But well, it wouldn’t hurt to try to get on good terms with it. Especially knowing you weren’t sure how long you’d be stuck in the cave for. 

You eventually came to a stop near the dragon. Not too far, not too close. Just enough that you could see it and still be out of reach of its long neck and head. It bared its teeth at you, though it didn't start growling as of yet. You counted that as a good thing. 

Kneeling down, you spread out your bundle of plants before it, arranging them in a neat, little line. After a quick glance at the dragon, you gestured your hands over your haul. “These are plants that can help with your wounds”—you pointed to the Lunas—“These are for protection.” Your finger moved over to point at the pale pink ones—Hiraeth flowers. “These help with easing pain.” Next were the cream-colored Eunoia flowers. “For slowing down bleeding.” Finally, the thin Zephyr stalks. “And for infection.” 

You then stood up and backed away, putting enough space between you and the plants on the ground. You didn’t want to seem too overbearing. Laying out your hand was the first step of many that you hoped were to come. 

The dragon watched you for a moment, the way you clasped your hands in front of you as you waited a respectful distance away. You held your breath as it lowered its head down to the line of flowers, gently huffing as it inspected them with slitted eyes. You didn’t know what it was looking for, but it spent a bit just nosing at the flowers, before it let out a big chuff of air, sending your poor plants awry as they were scattered all over the floor in your direction. Now that was just fucking rude.

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose with two cold fingers. “Okay, I get it, you don’t want my help.” You walked to the nearest flower and bent down to pick it up, spinning the thin stem idly in your hand. Brandishing the flower in the dragon’s direction, you continued, “But if you don’t get those injuries treated soon, you could risk aggravating them further and prolonging your healing process.” You made eye contact with the dragon for a brief moment, before you looked away to start picking up some more of the other plants scattered about. “Or, y’know. You could die. Up to you.” 

You busied yourself with grabbing the remaining flowers while you waited for some sign of sorts from the dragon. It wasn’t until you straightened up, arms full of plants, that you finally got an approval. Or, well, as close to an approval as you were going to get. 

The dragon made direct eye contact with you, sharp teeth bared as it let out a little growl. Then it huffed, a stream of smoke exiting its nostrils, before it shifted slightly to expose the large wound along its side to you. Right. Well, you’d take what you could get, at this point. 

“Great! Glad you came to your senses,” you said cheerfully as you walked a bit closer to the dragon and set all the plants down on the floor. “You’ll need to come closer to the entrance. I can’t see all too well back there.” While the dragon growled again and shifted, you turned to jog over to your bag once more. You rummaged around in it for your canteen of water, then stood up to look about the cave for some flat stones. It took a bit of time to find, but you managed to settle on two decent ones that looked like they could get the job done. 

“Good enough,” you mumbled as you jogged over to the cave’s mouth to run the stones under a steady stream of rainwater that dripped from the edge of the ceiling. After that, you jogged back to your jacket to pick up, and made your way over to the dragon. 

Luckily for you, it had heeded what you’d said and shifted closer to the entrance. You still couldn’t see all too well, but it was better than before, at least. The occasional flash of lightning helped as well. 

You dropped your canteen on the floor next to the flowers, placing the two stones on top of it as you did your best to wring out your jacket. Streams of water cascaded to the floor, some of them landing on the plants to wet them some more. A quick glance up to the dragon told you it was watching you carefully, eyes still slitted. 

“They work best if ground into a paste,” you told it, shaking out your jacket so that you could tear a flat piece off. You plopped onto the floor and laid out the piece of fabric in between you and the dragon. You then grabbed a few of the flowers and placed them neatly onto the cloth. Finally, with the two stones, you started mashing the flowers together, rubbing them occasionally between the stones. Water from your canteen was added once in a while to turn the flowers into a more liquid-y mush. It wasn’t the best, but it was all you could do at the moment. 

“Normally I use a special solution to make the paste,” you murmured as you worked, grinding and mashing away. “But water’s all we got right now. I didn’t expect to be treating anyone up here, y’know?” 

You looked up at the dragon and it growled at you, its eyes sharply focused on watching your movements. “Yeah, count yourself lucky, buddy.” 

You rambled on as you steadily mashed all the flowers together, finding a need to at least try to ease the dragon into trusting you a bit more. But it was obvious it was still wary of you, not relenting with its incessant glaring and occasional growling whenever you moved too fast, or did something it didn’t like. That was fine, you thought as you added another Luna to the mash. While it would be really fucking cool to befriend a dragon, it wasn’t necessary for you if you wanted to treat it. Work was work, healing was healing. 

Eventually, after what seemed like ages of mashing, you managed to make a decent amount of a brownish paste from all the flowers you’d picked out. You hummed as you wiped your hands on a clean section of the piece of cloth that held the paste, hoping that it would be enough. You didn’t know what you would do if it turned out you needed more flowers. 

“Okay”—you hoisted yourself to your feet, shaking out the cramps from your legs—“this should be enough. I hope.” You took a few steps away from the cloth so that the dragon could inspect the fruits of your labor. It brought its head closer so it could huff and eye the paste. “I’ll have to put on really light layers, depending on how many wounds you have.” After the dragon pulled its head away from the cloth with another chuff—you assumed it had deemed the paste good enough—you walked over and grabbed your jacket. You made quick work out of tearing it to pieces that you could use to apply pressure to staunch the dragon’s bleeding. 

“All right”—you hummed, stepping closer to the dragon with the pieces of cloth draped over one of your arms—“first we gotta wipe the blood away.” When the dragon growled at you warningly, you looked up at it, gesturing your free hand to the remnants of your poor jacket. “Relax. I’ll be careful. It’s just cloth. Can’t have you dripping blood all over the cave.” 

It huffed out through its nose, smoke battering your face that oddly smelled like burnt caramel. You made a face and waved your hand in the air to get rid of it, stepping closer to the dragon until you were right by the long gash on its side. Grabbing one of the longer pieces of cloth, you folded it up slightly and pressed it gently to the edge of the wound. 

At this proximity to the dragon, you could almost feel the low growl that thundered through its chest, its massive torso shifting under your hand that seemed entirely too small pressed against it. The gold of the dragon’s scales were amazing to look at up close, a bright gleam to them that shined with every flash of lightning from outside. You were slow and careful with sopping up the blood that leaked from the gash, making sure it was as clean as possible. 

Something you noticed, being so close to the dragon, was how fucking warm it was. Like standing next to your own personal campfire. It made you realize how cold you were, your teeth clenched together involuntarily to prevent them from incessantly chattering. In your haste to tend to the dragon’s wounds, you’d forgotten about how soaked you were, the possibility of getting sick looming ominously over your shoulder. 

That didn’t matter now, you decided, as you covered a particularly nasty-looking section of the wound with a cleaner section of the cloth. As long as you were close to the dragon, you could secretly enjoy its body heat. 

“I’ve got loads of medicinal plants back at my cottage,” you started quietly, still focusing on the dragon. It was silent, watching you press your ruined jacket to its side. Your eyes traced the black and orange markings you could see, amazed by their swirling intricacies. “Actually, that’s why I was up on the mountain. I was looking for Zenith flowers. They’re really useful for accelerated healing, y’know?” You finished dabbing at the wound and tossed the blood-soaked cloth to the floor. Picking up the paste, you started gently spreading it along the wound with nimble fingers. You didn’t fail to notice how much hotter the dragon’s wound was compared to the rest of its body. That couldn’t be good. 

“My friend was the one who told me there were Zeniths up on Kamino,” you continued, “The dumbass saw Nadir flowers and thought they were Zeniths. Idiot. Nadirs are poisonous. I should’ve expected it, honestly”—you sighed, coating your fingers with more of the paste— “and of course there would be a storm on the same day I decide to do a mountain trip. Lucky for me, huh?” 

The dragon rumbled and you huffed. “Yeah, maybe I’m the fool for believing him in the first place. Not like he’s a herbalist.” You finished coating the wound and set the paste back on the floor. Grabbing another cloth piece hanging from your arm, you rounded the dragon to check its other side, grimacing at the sight of another nasty gash near its hind leg. Its head swiveled around to follow you, content with carefully watching as you pressed the cloth to the wound. “Would’ve been really helpful if they were actually Zeniths, though. Could’ve boosted your healing process.”

This wound was also really hot, almost searingly so. You picked up the pace, wanting to coat it as soon as possible. Dragon physiology was not your expertise, so you had no idea what the heat meant. Infection? You finished covering the wound in the paste, and stepped back to search for any others. 

“You’ll have to stretch out your wings for me,” you said as you walked a safe distance away from the dragon, towards the mouth of the cave. “Can’t reach those”—you pointed to the area of its wings that had vicious tears in them—“Maybe shift your body around?” 

With what sounded like an irate huff and a bit of maneuvering, the dragon managed to orient itself sideways in the cave, crouching further in a ball so it could extend its wings down towards you. Giving it a small thanks, you made your way to the edge of its wing, where there were a few nasty tears along the edges and towards the center. You could practically see through them, if not for the crusted blood in the way. You grimaced. The dragon definitely wouldn’t be flying anytime soon with those. 

You noticed, your hands rubbing in the paste, that while its wings were gold, as you moved to the tips of them, they faded into a black color in an ombré-esque gradient. It was pretty—just like the black designs on its body that you were so captivated by. 

And thus, the process continued, with you idly making a rather one-sided conversation as you cleaned and coated the dragon’s wounds. You would’ve never imagined that you’d have the opportunity to be this close to such a powerful creature. It was oddly exciting, though the way the dragon still watched you sharply made it hard to relax entirely. You really hoped it wouldn’t decide to eat you or something after you tended to its injuries. That would just be rude.

Eventually, you found yourself standing in front of the dragon and gesturing to it to lower its head so you could clean the gash near its eye. With its face hovering around your shoulders, you were quite astounded by how large it was. Its head alone nearly dwarfed your upper body, your hand only a bit smaller than one of its eyes. Darkly, you wondered how easily it would be for the dragon to chomp down on you, bite you in half. But you brushed away the thought and continued to clean and coat the gash, ignoring the way the dragon’s slitted, crimson eye was right in front of your face. 

“That should do it.” You nodded your head with a sigh, stepping back from the dragon so it could raise its head up once more. “I had just enough paste to cover everything, I think. We’ll have to let that sit for a few hours until it dissolves.” 

You walked over to pick up one of the Zephyr stalks from off the ground. “Then I just gotta cover them with these and hope they fight off any infection.” You’d need to crush them into a paste as well, but for now, you were starting to feel a bit tired. Getting a fire going would be a good idea now that you were no longer close enough to the dragon to feel its body heat. 

You busied yourself with wrapping the remaining pieces of cloth from your jacket around the stalks and setting them back into your bag with the stones and your canteen for later use. The blood-soaked ones that you used to clean the dragon’s wounds you also set off to the side of the cave, close to the entrance. You’d have to try to clean them, but they pretty much looked unsalvageable with how stained they were, colored in deep burgundy. 

You didn’t really expect to find any dry materials in the cave to build a fire, but you managed to scrounge up a few crumbling, brown leaves. Unfortunately, however, they weren’t really enough to start and maintain a fire. And you then realized you didn’t have anything to make sparks either. Looked like it was going to be a cold night.

Maybe you could sidle up closer to the dragon? Leech off its body heat without it knowing? But a quick glance at it told you it would probably mind, its sharp gaze still trained on you. At least it wasn’t growling. You still didn’t want to risk getting your head bitten off, though, thank you very much.

“You should get some rest,” you told the dragon as you grabbed your bag and retreated into a corner of the cave. Not too close, yet not too far. You plopped onto the floor and curled into a ball, using your bag as a makeshift pillow. Like this, you were facing the dragon, watching it watch you as it settled on the floor. Its head was still raised, though. You wondered if it trusted you enough to sleep first. Probably not. “No use staying awake with this storm.” As though on a cue, thunder rumbled through the sky once more, an agreement to your statement. 

You spent a few moments just having an odd staring contest with the dragon, neither of you relenting to your obvious exhaustion. This was ridiculous. You eventually huffed and rolled over to face the cave wall, curling yourself into a tighter ball as though that could stave off the way your teeth chattered and your arms trembled. 

You woke up to a particularly loud clap of thunder. 

It exploded through the sky like an erupting star, making you shoot up from your balled-up position as though something had shocked you. Your teeth practically rattled in your skull, your gaze darting to the entrance of the cave where an abyss-like darkness greeted your eyes. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed. The darkness of the thunderclouds above, paired with the waterfall of rain, made it difficult to discern what part of the day it was. Probably somewhere close to night, you thought, shifting yourself so that you could clumsily stagger to your feet. 

You were ridiculously sore, your muscles aching as you stretched out and rubbed your arms with your hands. Sleeping on the hardass floor was a terrible decision—you could feel muscles that you didn’t even know existed until this moment. Climbing up a mountain probably didn’t help either. Your clothes were also still damp, and the way your nose felt clogged told you that sleeping while sopping wet probably wasn’t a good idea. It wasn’t like you could do anything about it, though. 

You shuffled in place, hoping the movement could help you generate a bit of body heat. Glancing over to the dragon, you saw it was awake as well, gaze directed to the rain beating away at the ground outside. It almost looked… forlorn. You watched it for a moment, then decided it wouldn’t hurt to check on its injuries. 

The dragon turned to look at you once you’d walked a bit closer; that distant look faded away to be replaced by intimidation. A low growl made you stop a few feet away. You shifted in place, still rubbing your hands along your arms. “Well, good morning to you too. I need to check your wounds.” 

When all it did was huff out and rest its head on the ground, you grinned slightly and approached its side. The warmth its body offered was welcoming, and you relished in the way it washed over your body as you inspected the largest gash. By now the paste had dissolved, so you assumed quite a few hours had passed. You’d have to mash the Zephyr stalks now. You hovered your hand over the wound and compared the heat it exuded to the rest of the dragon’s body. It was still worryingly hot. Having a sick dragon on your hands while trapped in a cave was definitely not on your agenda. 

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know if increased body heat means you’re fighting off infection, would you?” you asked the dragon as you walked over to its head and bent your knees slightly to look down at it. “How do you feel? Sick? Can dragons get sick?”

It huffed out at you, letting out a sound that sounded like a deep click. You tilted your head slightly, then straightened up, a hum escaping your lips. “Hmmm. Well, if you feel like you’re dying, let me know. I just wish I had something that could actually treat that...” With that, you walked over to your bag to pull out the bundle of Zephyr stalks, stones, and canteen. You took a small drink of water before you started mushing the stalks together to make a greenish paste. 

It didn’t take too long, thankfully, since you had less material to work with. The rain in the background provided some nice ambience to smush the stems to, though, and you found yourself humming lightly. Your voice was drowned out by the occasional clap of thunder and roaring wind, but you didn’t mind.

“Okay”—you approached the dragon with your bundle of green paste—“let’s just get this on and hope it staves off anything nasty.” 

You took your time with applying the mush this time, wanting to warm up some more. You didn’t find the need to fill the air with your rambles, so you settled on continuing your humming from before. The dragon—as per usual—watched you as you worked, keeping an eye on the motions of your hands. You tried not to get too self-conscious, but well, it was hard with the dragon watching you so closely—especially as you were coating the slash on its face. If looks could kill, you’d have been dead a long time ago. 

Once you finished up, you wiped your hands and stashed everything back in your bag once more. You walked over to the bundle of blood-soaked cloth sitting at the cave’s entrance and tossed each one outside along with the paste-covered ones, where the rain could batter down on them and hopefully wash away most of the substances stuck to them. You watched, for a moment, as watered-down blood trickled from the pieces of cloth in the rain, slowly running down the slope leading away from the cave. Then, you turned around and made your way over to your bag near the cave’s walls. After thinking for a little bit, you picked it up and headed back over to the dragon, plopping both your bag and yourself down a few meters away from it. Like this, you could feel a bit of the dragon’s warmth—enough to stave away the chills of the cave. You wondered if its body heat was naturally this intense or if it was just a result of its injuries. Either way, it didn’t growl at you or anything, so you counted that as a win.

“Y’know,” you spoke up after a few moments of just staring outside at the rain, your legs stretched out before you and your arms holding you up behind you. “I’m the only healer around here for miles. Lotsa people have come to me asking for help with their illnesses or injuries.” You scratched the side of your face as a brief flash of lightning lit up the darkness of the outside world. “I don’t mind; it’s kind of a duty I’ve taken on. But man, the stories I could tell you…” 

You chanced another glance at the dragon; it was gazing at the drumming of the rain beyond the cave’s mouth. Though the way its ears flicked told you it was listening. You turned to look back out at the storm. “One time, this guy walked in—completely normal-looking, not a hair out of place—complaining about how his chest hurt. I do the usual rounds, checking him over and stuff, but I couldn’t find anything wrong. So I asked him some questions, and you know what he was suffering from?” You paused for dramatic effect, rolling your eyes as you recalled the memory. The dragon made a deep rumble, so you continued, “A broken heart. Like bud, I’m a healer, not a miracle worker.” You let out a sigh, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

The dragon huffed out in what you would like to assume was an amused manner and you laughed. “That’s what I was like! Long story short, that’s how I met one of my closest friends—the one who mistook Nadirs for Zeniths. He wouldn’t leave me alone after that.”

You didn’t know how long you sat there, just recounting various stories of your healing escapades, but it was nice. You liked to think it was nice for the dragon too, for it didn’t really growl or bare its teeth at you as you talked. It was mostly silent, letting out the occasional huff or rumble at certain things you would say. You liked to think the dragon was slowly warming up to you, but well, did it have any choice with the both of you being stuck in a cave together?

The storm wasn’t showing any signs of letting up. 

You found yourself standing at the cave’s entrance, arms crossed over your chest as you frowned out at the battering rain and dark cumulonimbus clouds that stagnated over the mountain. You still had no idea how much time had passed—you’d talked to the dragon and slept for a while, so you were assuming at least the night had gone by. Your clothes, while a bit cold, were thankfully dry from you likely staying close enough to the dragon for its warmth to somewhat dry you. 

You sighed and turned around to trudge back to the dragon, its head lifting from the floor to watch as you plopped down next to your bag once more. You were starting to feel hungry; the last time you ate was… a while ago. A piece of bread for breakfast before you’d gone to Yuuei to visit Denki. And who knew how long ago that had been.

You dug around in your bag and pulled out the little wrapped pastry you’d gotten from Denki. Holding it in your hand, however… you knew you couldn’t eat it. A small groan left your lips, your hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose in disappointment. 

It was rock hard. You shouldn’t have waited so long before eating it. Or, well, attempting to. 

You glanced at the dragon. “You want this? I can’t eat it, it’s gotten too hard for my soft human teeth.” You scooted a bit closer to it so you could place the pastry on the floor near its head, then scooted back next to your bag, turning your body so you could face the dragon with your legs crossed. 

The dragon eyed you for a moment then looked down at the solid pastry with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. It glanced briefly back at you, then snorted out some smoke and turned its head away—but not before using one of the claws on its front foot to bat the pastry away. You raised an eyebrow at it, not that it could see. 

“What? You don’t want it?” you asked, looking down at the lonely pastry that had rolled a few feet in your direction. It looked fine, other than the fact that it was harder than the very ground you sat on. You reached out and batted the pastry back at the dragon hard enough that it rolled into its front foot. “Come on, you could probably eat it with those sharp teeth of yours. It’ll go to waste otherwise.” 

The dragon looked down and let out one of its rumbling growls before batting the pastry back at you. It rolled into your shin and you turned your head to squint your eyes at the dragon. 

“I see what’s happening here,” you said suddenly, pointedly looking down at the pastry. You reached out to bat it back towards the dragon, but it let out a growl that only got louder the closer your hand got to the pastry. You sighed and threw your hands up in defeat. “Okay! Fine. I’ll just put it away then.” 

You snatched up the pastry and shoved it back into your bag. You’d have to dispose of it later, if anything. The dragon huffed out some smoke as it watched you, then eventually rested its head back on its crossed legs in front of it as it stared out at the darkness of the storm. You observed it for a moment then sighed quietly and stuck your hand in your bag once more so you could rummage around in it and pull out your tiny journal. Might as well do some drawing. It wasn’t like you had anything else to do.

The pages of your journal were cool from being in your bag for so long. You thanked whatever deity above, yet again, that your bag was waterproof and prevented your hard work from getting soaked in all the rainwater. You shuffled some things around in it and eventually pulled out the little ink bottle and quill you’d also packed. Uncorking the bottle, you dipped the quill inside and flipped your journal open to a clean page. 

You paused. You… weren’t sure what to draw, really. 

But well—you briefly looked up at the dragon that was still watching the ongoing storm—you had a pretty obvious muse in front of you. 

It was relaxing just being able to sit and sketch. It was something familiar and it brought you a modicum of peace that you didn’t know you’d needed. At least, drawing allowed you to take your mind off of the pounding rain and occasional burst of thunder. Though, it did prevent you from hearing the almost cathartic scratches your quill made against the paper. You couldn’t see all too well either, but the dim lighting was better than nothing. 

Just as you were trying to figure out how to discern the shapes of the dragon’s wings from the shadows that encased them, it turned its head to look at you, ears twitching. You raised an eyebrow, noticing how the dragon huffed out some smoke and stared pointedly down at the journal in your lap. You thought you’d been pretty discreet with your sketching, but it seemed as though the dragon had noticed. 

“Hm?” You raised an eyebrow when it let out a low growl and glanced down at your journal. Maybe it was just curious? You looked back up at the dragon, its glowing crimson eyes still looking at your book. “Oh, you wanna see? Sorry, I was bored and started sketching. Here.” You capped your ink bottle and put both it and the quill back in your bag before scooting closer to the dragon. You ignored the way its muscles tensed as you sat yourself close—but not too close—to its front legs. You held up your book slightly so you could show it the drawing. “It’s pretty rough, but I tried. I can’t see all too well either.” 

The dragon lowered its head to look at the paper, hovering just above you. You tried not to shiver as its hot breath fanned out over your shoulder. Well, at least you’d be warmer. For now. “I can’t really see the shape of your wings, it’s too dark in here. Maybe if it gets lighter I can try again, I dunno.” You looked at the drawing. It wasn’t bad—at this point it was just a vague shape. You wanted to focus more on the markings that spanned the dragon’s body, but those would have to be saved for later.

You touched the ink on the page lightly to make sure it was dry, then flipped to the beginning of your journal so you could show the dragon the other things you had in it. You pointed to the different flora you’d drawn and explained the notes you’d written next to each. You were kind of surprised it was paying attention, but you supposed it was also pretty bored at this point. 

“Oh! These are the Zenith flowers I’d mentioned”—you pointed to the cerulean petals you’d drawn in your book—“Ahh, man, you wouldn’t happen to know about any plateaus with these on them, would you?” You turned your head to look up and over your shoulder at the dragon. It snorted out smoke into your face. “I’ll take that as a no.”

You spent some time flipping through your book, then eventually somehow ended up telling it more stories of things that’d happened to you in the distant past. You scooched away from the dragon a bit so you could properly lay down on the floor with your arms crossed behind your head. If you stared up at the ceiling of the cave long enough, you could almost pretend you were looking up at the night sky, the glistening sheen of the rocks above reminding you faintly of glowing stars.

“You know, I’ve met my fair share of mythicals here and there. There was a time when I accidentally stumbled across a few fairies in the forest at the base of this mountain.” You turned your head to look at the dragon’s head that hovered in the air to your right. Crimson eyes slitted once you made eye contact with them. You continued on, “I uh, I didn’t really know that the fae were pretty… pretty mischievous,” you grimaced, “At that point I was a bit lost, so I was trying to get directions back into the village and they just—they just had me walking around in circles for hours. Hours!” 

The dragon snorted at you and you squinted up at it. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault. And for your information, I eventually did find my way back. I just had to give them some of the leftovers I had in my bag and they told me the right way to go.” The dragon only made a low rumble in its chest. You rolled your eyes and yawned, making yourself more comfortable on the ground. You were starting to get a bit tired. “Yeah, whatever. At least they were fairies and not fuckin’, basilisks or some shit.” 

You didn’t know how long you lay there, recounting tales, but you eventually turned your head back to look at the dragon only to see it had rested its head on the floor, asleep. You watched it for a moment—the steady rise and fall of its torso as it slept, the glimmer of its scales every time lightning struck, the markings that curved along its neck—then turned your head to look at the ceiling once more. 

Man, you thought as you closed your eyes as well, what the fuck am I even doing?

The dragon had been asleep for… a very long time. 

Of course, you couldn’t really keep track of just how much time had passed, but you were a bit… worried. 

You’d woken up and spent a while just drawing or thinking. There was nothing to do in the cave and it was starting to wear you down mentally. You were growing antsy, and the way your stomach grumbled from time to time just made you grimace. You knew the human body could survive quite a while without food, so you weren’t too concerned unless the storm decided to linger for a few weeks—which you doubted would happen. It just wasn’t typical for this region. And you had water left in your canteen, and though you didn’t necessarily like it, you also had the storm’s rainwater at hand to keep your thirst at bay, so you weren’t worried about dying from dehydration either. 

You just wondered how much longer you’d be stuck in the cave for. Sleeping was all you could do to help save energy and prevent yourself from ruminating too much on the hunger gnawing at your stomach. You’d already grabbed the relatively clean pieces of cloth from outside the cave too, wringing them out and folding them neatly to stack in a dry corner on the ground, so it wasn’t like you had anything else to do. The boredom was difficult, and the fact that the dragon was still asleep unfortunately meant that you couldn’t entertain yourself with it. 

So you slept, and you drew, and you thought, and you paced, and you slept some more. It seemed like a never-ending cycle, broken only by the few occasions where you would walk up to the cave entrance to stare out at the dark storm. Until you suddenly realized that the dragon had not been awake at all in the times that you were also awake. Which made you wonder if it had been asleep the entire time. 

You looked over at it slumbering away with its wings tucked over its long body. There was a slight snarl on its face that you hadn’t noticed before, fangs bared in its sleep. It made you pause and stand up to walk over to its head that rested on the cool floor. You crouched down and reached out a hand to gently touch the furrowed part of its face above its eyes. It felt warm, too warm, its scales gliding smoothly under your palm. You narrowed your eyes and hovered your hand over the wound near its eye. 

It was hot. 

Much hotter than before. 

You cursed at the fact that the dim lighting of the cave didn’t allow you to properly see. The mush of the Zephyr stalks was still there, which wasn’t surprising as it wasn’t something that easily dissolved into the skin. But as you repositioned yourself and peered closer at the wound, you saw that the area around it looked… inflamed. Swollen. It was hard to tell with all the golden scales in the way. Shit. Were the salves ineffective for dragons? Did they only temporarily work? You didn’t know.

You jumped to your feet and ran over to the pile of damp cloth you’d set on the floor what seemed like ages ago. You grabbed a few, then thought it would probably be best to just take it all, so you gathered everything in your arms and rushed back over to the dragon. You plopped it all on the floor near its head, then used one of the pieces of cloth to gently wipe away the Zephyr mush from the dragon’s head wound. The moment it was gone, dark blood started dribbling down, running over your fingers. You cursed as a barely healed injury was revealed. It looked bright red if you squinted at it and inflamed as all hell. You leaned your head closer to it, sniffed, and almost immediately recoiled at the odor it was giving off. The fucking Zephyr stalks hadn’t worked. That, or the infection was just too strong.

“Fuck,” you forced out and scrabbled to press a clean piece of cloth to the dragon’s face to stop it from bleeding. The wounds had looked fine before you’d applied the Zephyr paste! What happened? “Fuck.” You bit your lower lip and piled on more cloth to press to the gash before you let go and reached out a hand to the dragon’s closed eye. 

Gently, you pulled at its eyelid until you got it halfway over its eye. You could only see the whites of its sclera. You blew a little on it to see if it would induce a reaction, but it didn’t. You cursed again and let go. This was exactly what you’d been hoping to avoid. You weren’t an expert on dragons—you didn’t know if you should’ve done something differently to prevent this from happening or not. You didn’t know what you could do now to stop the infection—you didn’t have anything on you to deal with it. You’d already used the plants you’d gathered that you believed would’ve helped. Damnit. 

You rubbed at your face roughly with your hands. It was likely that all of the dragon’s wounds were infected if its searing body temperature was any indication. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t… You… You swallowed thickly and looked down at your hands, flexing your fingers. 

There was… something you could do. 

You hadn’t wanted to do it before—it used up a lot of your energy even though it was so goddamn weak—but it seemed… It seemed like you had no choice now. If you didn’t do anything, the infection would only grow worse. 

You made sure the wound on the dragon’s face was properly covered before you grabbed the bundle of cloth, stood up, and jogged over to its side that had the worst gash of them all—the one that ran from its shoulder to its mid-back. You worked quickly to wipe away the Zephyr mush, grimacing at the sight of the inflammation and the smell it was omitting, then did your best to staunch the bleeding.  

Inhaling deeply, you raised your hands up to the wound, hovering your palms over it. You felt like you were warming your hands next to an open fire, the heat rolling in waves over your palms and your face. You concentrated for a moment before eventually your palms started to glow a warm honey color. It was faint, and flickered out from time to time, but if you focused, you could get it to remain consistent. 

So you stood there, with your glowing palms against the dragon’s wound, and waited. And waited. And waited. Time seemed to pass by so slowly, yet so quickly, as you put everything into tending to the gash. You stood there for hours wondering if you were making any difference at all. You were starting to feel the effects of using your magic for so long, an exhaustion settling into your very bones. It pulled at your limbs, weighed heavily on your shoulders. You blinked slowly, wanting nothing more but to sit down and sleep. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t. 

You didn’t know how long you concentrated on that wound for, but eventually you forced yourself to stop to observe the progress you’d made. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, and it seemed like some of the swelling had gone down. It was nowhere close to being healed completely, but you had to move on to the other injuries. You rubbed at your eyes as you rounded the dragon to tend to the gash on its other side, by its hind leg. You were quick in wiping off the mush and hovering your palms over it to let the light seep inside. 

And thus, the process was restarted. You stood there until your legs started to shake and your arms trembled with the effort to keep them up. Your vision was starting to blur out. You had to blink quite a few times to try to clear it up, but it was still fading in and out. You were almost at your limit. Just a bit more—

Your knees buckled. You fell backwards, eyes fluttering shut as you barely had enough time to twist yourself to the side to prevent yourself from hitting your head. Even so, you’d already crumpled into a heap, blacked out before you’d even fully landed on the ground.

When you woke up again, it took you a few moments to reorient yourself. 

You slowly sat up, rubbing at your shoulder as you blinked away the dark spots and looked around. You still felt tired, but at least you weren’t on the verge of passing out again. You shuffled to your feet and walked over to peer at the dragon’s face. It was still sleeping. You sighed. You had a lot of work to do. 

You cycled back and forth between sleeping and tending to the dragon’s injuries for what felt like days. The lack of food was hard, and there was only so much energy you could replenish by sleeping, but you did your best. You managed to stop the infection at the hind leg before you moved on to the dragon’s wings. Those were a bit harder to reach since they were gingerly tucked above its body. You had to climb a bit onto the dragon to reach some parts and hoped that it wouldn’t move or wake up anytime soon. You didn’t particularly feel like getting abruptly tossed to the floor. 

Once you finished on the wings—which forced you to sleep quite a few times in between—you went back to the deep gash on its side to work on that some more. You started to feel like you had a perpetual burn to your eyes, no matter how much sleep you got. Your stomach hurt from time to time, but you learned to ignore it. There were a few instances where you wondered if stepping out into the rain would help you stay awake, but you figured it wouldn’t be worth the soggy clothes. 

As you moved down the gash, nearing the dragon’s mid-back, you felt it shift beneath your hands. You froze and watched as the muscles along its back tensed and rolled. Your head snapped to the side, eyes moving to watch as the dragon raised its head slowly up from the ground. It was awake. Finally. 

“Oh good,” you rasped out, then cringed at how dead your voice sounded. You cleared your throat as the dragon swiveled its head around so it could look at you standing by its back. “You’re—”

Before you could even process what was happening, the dragon let out a loud snarl. You jumped as it snapped its jaw dangerously close to you and twisted its body away in a motion that made you cringe due to its tender wounds. You found yourself stumbling forward a bit, eyes wide as you darted them up to look at the dragon in confusion and surprise. It was glaring at your hands, teeth bared at you threateningly as the golden spikes on its back bristled in anger. A low rumble erupted from its chest, mixing with the sounds of rain and thunder from outside. 

“Whoa! Easy!” You raised your hands up in the sign for surrender and immediately let the light die out from your palms. “I’m not gonna hurt you I promise!” 

When all it did was continue to glare and growl, you tentatively activated your magic again, letting the warm, honey glow light up the space between you. It snarled, but otherwise just watched you. “Look, see?” You waved your hands around and passed it over your arms and stomach. “It’s not hurting me.” You didn’t dare mention the fact that your magic had no effect on you. “It’s healing magic—very weak healing magic. You ah”—you swallowed thickly—“you were out cold for a while. Your wounds were infected. I had to um, use it to help you.” 

The dragon let out a low rumble, eyes still narrowed at your hands. You let the light die out once more and tried not to let the exasperation bleed through your voice. “Come on, I’ve been taking care of your wounds all this time. Do you really think I’d harm you after that?” 

Maybe it was your words, maybe it was the look on your face—the tone of your voice. But eventually, it stopped its growling and exhaled a plume of smoke. You waved the cloud away with a hand and had to suppress a sigh of relief when the dragon made a deep clicking sound and shifted to resume its previous position near you. “Thank you. Now stay still, I’m trying to stop the infection in this wound.”  

Once it settled down, you took in a deep breath and stepped closer, concentrating to get your magic up and running again. You hovered your glowing hands above the wound and focused. As you did, you were acutely aware of the dragon watching you, but eventually it seemed to get tired and turned its head back around so it could rest on the ground. You didn’t blame it—if your body was fighting infections this bad you’d probably get exhausted too. 

You started to feel the deep, deep weariness settle in your bones again from using your magic so extensively. You did your best to keep yourself going—you didn’t have much more to work on, after all. You could probably finish this large wound and then tackle the one on its head a bit before you collapsed. 

And that you did. You finished up at the dragon’s mid-back, then shuffled around it to its head that was still laying on the ground. It opened its eyes when you got near and started to rise, but you flapped a hand at it. “No, no, it’s fine, keep your head on the floor. It’ll make my life easier.” It did as told with a little huff and you smiled faintly as you sat yourself on the ground to its right and reached your hands out to the wound near its right eye.

Being so close to its face was a bit unnerving, seeing that the dragon did nothing but stare directly at you the entire time. You focused your attention mostly on the wound, but you couldn’t help the goosebumps. It felt like the dragon was trying to bore right through you with its stare, not relenting in any least bit. It made you feel a bit self-conscious—you knew you looked like shit from being in the cave for so long and for using your magic practically nonstop. 

You were just so tired. You exhaled and moved your gaze away from the wound so you could look into the dragon’s right eye—the only one you could see from your position. “Are we cool?” The way it had reacted before was still making you feel a bit uneasy. You thought you’d been doing pretty well with getting on good terms with the dragon, but now you weren’t sure anymore. It blinked slowly at you and you continued, “Like, you know I’m here to help you, right? You clearly can’t do it yourself.” It made an aggravated sound that had you rolling your eyes. “Yeah, frustrating, I know, but I’d still appreciate it if, y’know, you didn’t bite my head off for trying to heal you.” 

The dragon was quiet for a short moment. Then it snorted out some more smoke and made a rumbling sound at your words. You smiled weakly at it and focused back on healing its wound. You’d take that as a yes. 

You were laying on the floor, taking a break between healing sessions, when a sudden thought occurred to you that made you slowly sit up. 

“Got a name or do I have to keep calling you ‘the dragon’ in my head?”

The dragon turned its head to look at you, a huff of that caramel-scented smoke leaving its nose that fanned over your head. You looked at it as well, an inquisitive hum caught in your throat. “Well, yeah I guess you can’t really tell me, huh?” Another huff. You waved your hand in the air to dissipate the grey smoke, then used the same hand to rub your chin thoughtfully. You snapped your fingers together. “What if I just give you a nickname? Whaddya think?” 

This time it snorted and you grinned as it turned its head to watch the slowly lightening storm outside, the sky turning from an inky black color to a more grey one—a relief, considering the fact that it meant you’d be out of here soon. You couldn’t wait to be back at your little cottage. You really needed something to eat and a good night’s rest in a bed that wasn’t rock hard.

You hummed as you thought up a few names on the spot. “Okay… how about… Goldie?” It let out a huff and looked at you with an almost offended expression on its face. You grinned at it again. “Not a fan? Aurem, maybe? No? Hmm…” You trailed off thoughtfully as you tapped your index finger against your chin. “Saphira? Eragon? Ah, you’re so picky!” The dragon kept huffing out smoke at your face, its teeth bared at you in displeasure. “I’m doing my best here! Okay uh…” You had to suppress a smirk as you said, “Widdol dwagon baby?”

You made a sound between a yelp and a laugh as the dragon snapped its jaw close to your head, making you slide to the side slightly so you could avoid its sharp teeth. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I think I might off myself if I had to call you that all day.” It let out a snort and retreated, which allowed you to resume your previous position. “Let’s see… Hmm…” This was really difficult, actually. It didn’t help that the dragon was so goddamn hard to please. “Smokey? What, you’re always huffing smoke at me, don’t blame me for offering it!” You rolled your eyes when the dragon made a deep clicking sound. “Uhh… Lord Explosion Murder? Bitch that was a joke, I am not calling you that!” 

The dragon had cocked its head thoughtfully when you’d said the prior name, but at your admission it huffed again. You threw up your hands in defeat then plopped yourself back down to lay on the cool cave floor. “Well I’m all out of ideas.”

You stared up at the ceiling of the cave as the dragon puffed out smoke that rolled over your body like a wave. There was a moment where all you could hear was the steady pounding of rain from outside and the faint rumbles of thunder. Then, there was a tapping sound—like something sharp clicking against something rough and hard. You blinked when the tapping shifted into a terrible grating noise. You raised your head and curiously watched as the dragon used a claw on its front foot to scratch at the cave floor. Hmm.

You sat up and scooted closer to the dragon so you could peek at what it was doing. It was still pretty dark in the cave, but the lightening clouds at least allowed you to see better than you had when the storm first started. You tilted your head and squinted at the ground as it finished scratching at it and waited for you to read what it wrote. 

“Oh!” You blinked and turned your head to look up at the dragon’s face. “Bakugo? That’s your name?” Who knew dragons could read and write…

Bakugo made a deep sound and snorted a puff of smoke directly into your face as though to say well, duh. You waved it away and gave him a grin along with your name. “Nice to officially meet you.

in another universe, he's not a dragon but a....

part two

But by this logic if you have bad skin you are against trans rights.

That seems...unfair.