A/N: Be forewarned--there's more cursing and an OOC All Might towards the end.
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There was an egg left.
The Queen of the dragons...she's still alive, still there, still fucking killing.
Hiccup was right; Berk isn't fucking saved, isn't fucking safe from the Red Death.
"It all makes sense!" Ochako gasps as she gets off of Striker's back, whirling towards Katsuki with a look of fucking bloodlust mixed with some sort of infernal fucking vindication. "They're the workers, and that's their queen; they're like a hive. Come on, we have to go get All Might." He watches her, numb to the fucking world as she moves to run back to the chief, back the village that kills fucking intelligent, gentle, sentient fucking creatures for their own shitty amusement.
To people that would've murdered Striker without a second goddamn thought.
"No."
She halts. "What, why?"
He watches Striker shake off the water droplets on her scales, pictures blood soaking the beautiful silver markings around her eyes, pictures the light leaving her golden gaze, pictures her wings fucking clipped and her body on the ground, red staining the stones of arena as her sleek frame slumped to the rocky floor--
"They'll kill her." His voice is rough as shattered glass, but he can't bring himself to give a shit. "They'll kill Striker, and I can't let that happen."
She whirls to him, eyes wide with incredulous fucking rage--as if she could possibly fucking understand what he's thinking, what killing Striker (the only real not-made-of-shitty-necessity fucking friend he's managed to keep wants) would fucking do to his already majorly fucked-up life. He turns away, but he can't shut out her voice. "Bakugou, this is the dragon's nest. The thing we've been after since Vikings and heroes returned to Berk! And you want to keep it a secret? And for what, to protect your pet dragon?"
Katsuki rounds on her, teeth bared. "Yes."
Ochako looks fuckin' taken aback, stepping away. He waits for her derisive comments, for shitty pointless arguments and attempts at making him fucking give up the most fucking freedom he's had in years---
"Okay," she says softly, and he can feel the tension rush out of him like the passing of a fucking maelstrom. "So what do we do?"
"Give me until tomorrow," he mutters, glancing at Striker, who croons. "I'll figure some shit out to end all this."
She nods, breaking their fucking eye contact---and fucking punches him in the gods-damned shoulder.
"Ow!" he snarls, and it's not out of fucking courtesy because gods-fucking-damn she's strong. "The fucking hell was that for?"
"That's for kidnapping me," she snaps. Striker ambles over to him, giving him a look that so very clearly says "you asked for that", and he scowls at her.
The next thing she does, though, is about fifty fucking times for fucking confusing---she kisses his fucking cheek.
"And that was...um, f-for e-everything else." She fucking runs off seconds later, leaving him to spontaneously fucking implode---and fucking explode, too.
And Striker, clearly not understanding what fucking plight they're in, fucking cackles.
---
The roar of the crowd is nearly fucking deafening.
YOU ARE READING
The Brave Men Rode Them
Fiksi Penggemar"In front of him lies the Night Fury, the most dangerous dragon in the known world, one that he's felled, the one that could prove that he does have what it takes to kill dragons. But its eyes are open, shining and white-gold, and he sees himself re...
