He Makes The Stars Shine Brighter [Sting x Reader] || First Book

18 : Welcome Home, Frosch

» edited : 04.07.2017

[a/n]: it's 2:37 in the morning over here as i begin editing this should i be sleeping yet H ahH A- 

it's already 4 in the morning now shit- okay here enjoy this mess i wrote for you

x x

It all started with Lector panting out a breathy utterance of the word 'Master!', and the owner of that title had curtly vanished after the Grand Magic Games, or so you've heard from Sting. The Sabertooth members that are in earshot all turn to Sting, and it isn't long before the gears in your head start turning.

"Wait," you pause, maybe for a touch of melodrama, maybe because it was just that hard to believe, "'Master'?"

Sting laughs, but its sheepish and quiet, much different compared to his shameless and raucous cackles, even the water droplets scattered all over the surface of his body seem to be shying away from you.

"What's the problem?" Now with his bare back turned to you, Sting doesn't notice the roll of your eyes, instead noticing how Lector, who's just as excessively confident in himself as his partner, is fidgety and stuttering.

"Frosch. . ." Lector can't gather the rest of the sentence, and Rogue, who's nearby, quickly snaps his head towards your group upon hearing Frosch's name. "Frosch disappeared on me!"

"WHAT?!" Rogue rushes over to Lector, and Rogue's deadpan ( which was already pretty menacing in itself ) twisted into an anger brought about by his fondness for Frosch. His motherly love's just as unsettling as his Shadow Dragon Slayer Magic.

"How could you let that happen when he was with you?!" Rogue yells, his strange outburst attracting onlookers.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Lector repeats while bowing repeatedly, quickly, as if doing the action enough times would make Frosch manifest in Lector's dizzying plane of vision.

"Hey, Rogue! Blaming Lector isn't going to do anything!"

"You don't know. . .Frosch, has no sense of direction!" 

Sting and Rogue, who's finely toned chests are pressed against each other, are both letting out angry huffs, and it doesn't take long before they're shoving each other and tearing at each other's hair, producing guttural growls that would dismay even the most feral of animals.

You tear the two boys off of each other, but despite the few feet of cold, pool water that's diving them, Sting and Rogue still eye each other threateningly. A whack on both of their heads, and they've finally regained enough sense to act their age.

"We have to find Frosch before he gets himself too lost," you inform them. The Twin Dragons both puff out 'Right's before they crawl out of the pool, and into clothes that are dry and more appropriate for the busy outdoors.

» time skip

"Can't you sniff him out?" Lector suggests, his eyes contain an unrestrained panic and he's frantically scanning the environment for any telltale signs of Frosch's eccentric appearance.

Sting shakes his head, but takes a quick whiff anyway. Rogue's lapsed into silence, a silence unusual even for him, from his overwhelming worry. Lector turns to you, and he's placed all his faith in your obvious superiority in ability compared to other Dragon Slayers.

"Sorry, bud," Lector's face falls, and you really do wish you could sniff Frosch out, but there are just too many different smells, and too many people that they all clash together and mingle the same way the sounds of a party bleeding into background noise. "There are just too many scents, I can't distinguish Frosch's."