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#phew!
risestarkiss · 3 months
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Orange, Baby!
Rise Ramblings #316
When I think about Mikey, this scene always comes to mind.
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As soon as they step foot in the library to save Mayhem, Angelo instantly disqualifies himself…hilariously.
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On first watch, I found it interesting that he made this decision with no hesitation, especially given the stakes.
At the time I just resigned to him being a silly silly boy, but now I know better.
Yet, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s explore who Mikey is.
Michelangelo Hamato is the youngest turtle in the family, and it shows.
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Consequently, he seems to possess a certain “youngest brother privilege" that his other brothers just can’t help but reinforce. This is the role that Mikey was born into. Therefore, he doesn’t have to push himself to be the smartest, or cleverest, or strongest turtle.
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Instead, he decides to be the artist of the family. He’s a creative! He expresses himself everywhere, from stickers on his own shell, to tagging the lair, as well as on paper. The world is his canvas!
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Michelangelo also expresses himself in virtually everything he does, so it’s easy to understand why he’s the most open, honest, caring, and emotionally expressive turtle of the bunch. To some it could be seen as a weakness, yet Mikey uses his emotional intelligence as a pillar of strength, of which he utilizes to uphold his brothers when they need support the most.
In the show, Michelangelo often takes on certain personas; Doctor Feelings and Doctor Delicate Touch. (For some reason, they are all doctors, but that’s beside the point.)
At first glance, the personas could be seen as silly bouts of make-believe. But I think that placing these roles upon himself for his brothers' sake is Michelangelo’s way of helping them cope with the world by offering them what they each individually lack.
For instance, Raph, Leo, and Donnie have trouble voicing their discomforts when someone does something they don’t like.
In other words, they have trouble putting their foot down.
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But here is Mikey to the rescue!
Dr. Delicate Touch has no such hang-ups.
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Similarly, when Donatello runs into trouble, as he is unable to recognize his own emotions, it’s up to Doctor Feelings to help his desperate client in need.
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Through taking on these roles, Mikey is able to support his brothers and fill the emotional gaps in his teammates, which, inevitably makes them all stronger.
How is Mikey able to do this and how does he have the strength to take on these roles?
You could think that it’s just in his character, meaning, it’s just how he is. I don’t think so, though. He’s a free thinker, and a creative, but there’s something about these roles that is specifically catered to the needs of his family.
Then I realized, the only reason that Mikey is able to help his brothers in this way is because they first helped him.
Let me explain.
All four of the boys grew up in the same household. Although Splinter tried his very best (there is no Splinter hate here), a single depressed parent doth not a stable child make. Raphael struggled with the burden of his responsibilities as an ad hoc leader (see Being Big Red), Leo struggled with expressing his natural talents as a middle child (see Being Baby Blue), all while Donnie struggled with carving out his place on the team and his feelings of uselessness (see Being Purple Part One and Part Two).
Well, what does Mikey struggle with?
In my humble opinion, nothing.
The struggles of his brothers all related to each turtle coming to terms with themselves and coming to terms with their place on the team.
Yet, due to the love and support of his brothers and father, Michelangelo never had to ask himself if he belonged, struggle with his role on the team, or make huge life-changing decisions that could affect everyone.
Michelangelo is free to just be Michelangelo.
And as a free spirit who is completely in tune with his own emotions, he is able to do things like this:
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and this,
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and this.
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Let’s get back to the scene in the library.
Angelo sees the high stakes of his friend’s pet disappearing forever if they fail but makes the decision to disqualify himself anyway. Why? Because he knows that no matter what he does, it will all be ok.
He has complete faith in his brothers and their ability to solve the problem at hand, so he might as well have some fun.
This not the first time he’s come to this conclusion.
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Through out this entire scene, Michelangelo plays in the background.
It’s scenes like this that makes me believe that Mikey’s faith in his family knows no bounds.
Altogether, his brothers and his father were everything he needed to become who he is. Reciprocally, he is free to be everything that they need him to be and more. Over…
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and over,
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and over again
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he trusts them completely.
And through this unwavering trust in his family, he is able to trust himself and his instincts. He knows that with everything they’ve poured into him, he can save them from, well, everything. Over…
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and over…
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and over again.
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Hence, due to all of this evidence, I believe that through the collective love of his family, Michelangelo became the best version of the Hamato spirit, and thus, the best Mystic Warrior of all time.
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All because, he’s Orange, baby!
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Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One • Being Purple ○ Part Two
Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi
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penpanoply · 1 year
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Come. Join me in my madness.
*caveat: this works best in small sizes—anything big will probably need a more complex stitching setup, end papers, and sturdier book covers. My tiny books have been measuring about 1.5x2.2 cm, and .4 cm thick
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jtl-fics · 11 months
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Fluent Freshman - Part 26
PREVIOUS
Nicky can’t help but bounce his legs as they sit in the waiting room at the hospital. He’s had to leave the waiting room a couple times already because in Aaron’s effort to comfort him, and wow how far they’ve come he’s really raised Aaron to be such a thoughtful young man, the jackass has unknowingly made four more Miss Congeniality references.
This is a waiting room full of nervous families and Nicky is NOT about to be the guy who can’t stop laughing because Aaron mentioned World Peace in a snapback at Kevin.
Nicky is not going to be the one to explain FF’s jokes. He MAY already be planning a Miss Congeniality movie night. Neil, Aaron, and Kevin may not remember but ANDREW will and watching Andrew realize his friend was referencing an AMAZING movie when talking about how he took out one of the FBIs most wanted was all he wanted at the moment.
Another nurse comes in and calls out “Elias Smith?” But Wymack doesn’t get up from his seat still sipping his now lukewarm coffee. There’s been 14 different times she’s called for a ‘Smith’ family but Wymack hasn’t moved for any of them and different waiting families have gotten up to get updates and taken back to see their family members.
Maybe he wants to see Andrew’s face a little less than he wants to see FF’s right now. He has his flowers on a chair next to him and a get well soon card that he’d had Wymack also sign. He was waiting for Smith’s grandma to come to see if she wanted in on some card real estate
“Seriously, how many Smiths got stabbed yesterday?” Kevin marvels.
“At this point it’s at least 12.” Aaron remarks.
“I’m at 14 not including Smithy.” Nicky says.
“At least we’ll finally get to find out Smith’s first name.” Kevin crosses his arms and leans back heavily into the chair, “I’m hungry.” He whines.
“Yeah, at least there’s that.” Nicky agrees because not knowing FF’s name at this point made him feel like an incredibly BAD friend. Even mores than the fact that Nicky raised the man that stabbed FF last night. He turns his thoughts away from those thoughts, “You wouldn’t be hungry if you hadn’t bitched about the breakfast burritos I had us pick up.” Nicky argues.
“It was greasy! I’m already slipping on my diet after Thanksgiving and eating that pie.” Kevin argues back.
Nicky can’t help but think of Kevin as a pageant contestant in that moment.
Nicky looks heavenward for the strength not to laugh.
“Then go get something.” Aaron says from Nicky’s side, “There’s gotta be a cafeteria or something around here.” Aaron adds.
“I don’t want to go alone.” Kevin shoots back and Nicky can HEAR Aaron roll his eyes.
“Fine, whatever I need more coffee anyways. Let’s go find a cafeteria.” Aaron says getting up and Nicky looks at his cousin, “Text us if you get a room number.” He says.
“Will do.” Nicky agrees.
Then it was two.
It’s about five minutes before, “David Wymack?”
Nicky’s head shoots to Wymack and he sees the smug amusement on their coach’s face.
That motherfucker.
Nicky followed Wymack up to the doctor in question. “How’s he doing?” Wymack asks.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” The doctor says and Nicky feels his stomach sink into his toes.
***
Neil has NEVER been more relieved to be out of a car and that includes the ones Lola had him in (though that might be because being out of those cars meant he was closer to his death by way of Nathan).
Granny Smith had not spoken a word unprompted since they had climbed into the car. Granny Smith had the exact same expressionless face as her grandson did but it is only now that Neil realizes that there was always some hint of emotion on FF’s face. Neil wasn’t great at knowing exactly what those emotions were but they were there.
Granny Smith’s rage was pretty hard to miss.
“I think she knows.” Andrew had said with his hands white knuckled at 10 and 2.
“How could she?” Neil questions. “Smith’s phone fell in that toilet before he got stabbed.” He says but he can feel the anger and can feel it directed towards them.
She had seemed so nice with Paul!
Though Paul didn’t have anything to do with her grandson getting stabbed. Neil could understand how that might sour any niceness.
Neil and Andrew had pulled into the parking lot and it was only then that Granny Smith leaned forward and pointed towards the entrance.
Words weren’t really necessary then.
Before Neil could even try and trudge through offering to bring her bag to her the woman was out of the back of the Maserati and through the sliding doors of the hospital.
“Maybe…maybe she’s just like that? Smith likes to sit in silence too?” Neil tries but Andrew doesn’t say anything as he turns the Maserati into the parking lot to find a space.
They walked in only to find the receptionist looking confusedly at Granny Smith as the woman spoke in rapid Polish but was getting nowhere.
Neil watched as Andrew squared his shoulders and walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. When she turned around she the fear and anger shown through in her expression. Neil could understand in a way. FF was her grandson and considering the fact that FF had likely gotten his interest in languages from learning Polish from her?
They’re probably close.
Neil is pretty sure that normal close family members worry like this.
Almost positive.
He may not have the best examples in his own life but he has watched enough television and enough movies to start to see what might be considered normal!
Really!
Anyways…
Andrew points towards the doors that would lead them towards the elevator that they could take up to the waiting room.
Neil watches as Granny Smith visibly struggles before nodding. Andrew holds out his hand and she stares at it before Andrew points at her bag.
She blinks, looking taken aback.
“I can carry it.” He offers.
It’s a few moments of looking between Andrew’s face and his hand before she hands over her bag.
Andrew puts it over his shoulder and the three of them silently made their way up. The elevator ride was slightly less excruciating than the car ride but only just.
They got off and saw Nicky, Wymack, and a Doctor.
“…so he may not wake up.” Neil hears and watches as Andrew’s shoulders go instantly tense and Neil feels his own heart jump into his throat.
Then Nicky laughs.
“Of course he’s sleepy!” Nicky throws his head back.
“Yes, he had a high level of cortisol, that’s the stress hormone, in his blood. He should wake up either late today or early tomorrow though.” The Doctor says.
“Oh thank GOD.” Nicky says with a relieved slump to his shoulders, “You really gotta work on how you start conversations like this Doc! I thought you were going to tell me Smithy died not that he’s just going to sleep like the dead for at least 18 more hours!” Nicky exclaims before his gaze slides off of the Doctor and onto their group. “Oh!” Nicky moves past the Doctor and stops in front of them. “You must be Smithy’s grandma!” He says and offers his hand like the sweet respectable young man that Nicky absolutely isn’t.
“Nicky, she doesn’t-“
“Ty musisz być Nicky! Jesteś taki przystojny, tak jak powiedział mój kurczaczek.” Granny Smith knocks his hand away and pinches his cheek. Nicky visibly melts at the warm tonę even if he doesn’t know what is being said to him.
“Oh!” Nicky says, “I hope I don’t butcher this, Dziękuję! Uwielbiałem Pani ciasto!” He says haltingly before pausing, “Nazywa go Pani swoim kurczakiem? Jakie to słodkie!” he says but this time his enthusiasm has the language come out more smoothly.
Granny Smith seems to light up even more. “Czyż nie?”
“Nicky, since when did you know Polish?” Andrew asks brows raised slightly in shock.
“What? You two aren’t the only ones who decided to learn a cute foreign language so you could have secret couple conversations.” Nicky huffs frowning at the two of them, “Erik’s company has an office in Poland, he thinks it might be fun to try living there for a while so we’ve been learning the last year and a half.” Nicky says, “Smithy’s been such a huge help on it too!” He adds.
Neil opens his mouth, thinks about it, and closes it.
That’s fair.
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MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
EDIT: 6/8/23: Thanks @shirlai​ for fixing my janky Polish for Nicky!
@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @fuckyeahjeanmoreau @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themundanemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing @bushbees  @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupandfries​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​ @lesbian-blackbeard​ @lesbiansupernatural​ @silvermasquerade​ @thepeachfuzz​ @minniemariex​ @kazoo-the-demjin​ @gaypomegranate​ @ji-nk-ies​ @neilimfinejosten​ @omgrubelangel​ @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice​ @percabethotplove​ @cozyrosykay​ @foxyatlas​
The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.
As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?
Also if anyone fluent in Polish wants to correct me on any of the Polish wants to correct me / sends smoother Polish please do! I am just using Google Translate for GS.
Translations:
Ty musisz być Nicky! Jesteś taki przystojny, tak jak powiedział mój kurczaczek. = “You must be Nicky! You're so handsome, just like my chicken said.”
“Dziękuję! Uwielbiałem Pani ciasto!” = “Thank you! I loved your pie!”
“Nazywa go Pani swoim kurczakiem? Jakie to słodkie!” = “You call him your chicken? That’s so cute!”
“Czyż nie?” = “Isn’t it?”
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eddiebuckley-diaz · 2 months
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A summarized version of the 911 updates:
Madney wedding will be fun with some awry Chimney and an exciting pre-celebration. There will not be a big wedding like in LS.
Bathena will be dealing with the disaster on the ship for 3 episodes. Episode 2 will have the big Titanic moments.
Buck will be thinking on his love life in the first few episodes. Eddie and Marisol will be pursuing some form of a relationship.
Christopher is entering into his own relationship. This will be navigated both by Eddie and Buck.
Hen is serving as interim captain and her and Karen are looking to expand their family.
The Firehouse Five (thank you for that name Peter) will be back together after around 5 episodes.
A few actors from LS will be joining in for a few scenes.
There will at some point will be a crossover with some show or other as so far hinted at by Tim Miner.
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chocodile · 9 months
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Art Fight 2023, part 5!
Sandy for @coilcreature
Sharky for @kaijupuppy
Pastel for CardinalFSR
Rory for Birchboom
Helene for @strontiumsun
Aldelvin Sevro for @dianeramic
Fuji for Skittyroo
Queen Rose for GreaserMutt
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runebakery · 1 year
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sunflower mill—weekend wips
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sipsteainanxiety · 2 years
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holding out (just for you) [1] || katsuki b.
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pairing: dragon!bakugo katsuki x reader
word count: 13.8k+
mentions: female reader, fantasy au, descriptions of injuries + blood (bakugo's), not edited!!, aged up chars (24+), sfw, second pov, denki calls you 'pretty lady', part of the bnha big bang collab!
with art done by the amazing @your-fellow-passerine !!! here is a link to the original post (give it some love!!!!) <3333
masterlist
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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. 
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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?
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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?
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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. 
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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.
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in another universe, he's not a dragon but a....
part two
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mattastr0phic · 1 year
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This isn’t what therapy with Glass is for
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eslanes · 6 months
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Townie Monster Mash - day xx 🧟‍♀️
The Zombie : Rory Oaklow
(thanks @mickimagnum!)
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gessshoku · 2 years
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huggies from sun and moon cause yes
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To those who are having a tough day or overall hard time existing, have a hug💛💙
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veryinnovative · 10 days
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mermaids fucks filthy
they don't understand the vision of a human and his mermay fucking intimately on a rocky shore under a star-bejeweled night with the sounds of waves languidly lapping against the sharp-edged stone.... they can't see james with a long, stunning tail slung over his shoulder, arms firmly wrapped around it as his hips work in slow, deep thrusts in tune to regulus' siren crooning,,the mesmerizing hum of it all,, caught in the echo between the stretch of sea and james' labored breaths, his quiet words of praise....... the reverberating squelch of his cock repeatedly sliding in and out of regulus who is sprawled underneath him, scales shimmering in the scant moonlight
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theirloveisgross · 3 months
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from an awful crackpost after afhf 2021, to a sign and response in march 2022, to this...
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feels a bit surreal, not gonna lie. and going from me mumbling about 28op and cursing him when he'd be wearing it out and about for two years to having the og jersey on my back right this moment... ooof. i might have teared up for real.
thank you so much, @lovingstheantidote, for noticing my crying and whining about wanting this thing so much and letting me buy it off you. 💚
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waitmyturtles · 7 months
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akirateku · 1 year
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Finally cleaned up a few sketches I did ages ago for a ✨drawing request!✨
I wanted to actually get into a whole thing with Cyllene being a vampire hunter who ends up charmed by the unexpected kindness of her quarry, but who has time for that lol
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intriga-hounds · 11 months
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sivi earned his RATI this weekend. ponzu did not bc i NQ’d us by forgetting to put down my leash. 🙈 ponzu did find the rat, and i called it correctly, but she was scared of the critter and didn’t enjoy the game at all. considering there are no viable classes near me and i no longer own rats, i don’t think barn hunt will be our thing, but the event was full of the kindest, most welcoming people. i wish i lived closer to the barn hunt scene just because of the community! we then hurried to race practice, where both sivi and ponzu made it clear that they like that game WAY better.
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yeonggisbitch · 6 months
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i am LIVING for her villainess era
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