#it was heard by the whole castle and down the streets but only seen by caius and marcus

[lostboys-fangposting]

personally i think aro instated a no swearing rule for volturi members and caius truthfully doesn't care whether or not someone swears he'd say fuck every other word if it was socially acceptable so long as it's not during a trial (if a trial turns into a battle then it's cool, get those feelings out)

and the only reason why he goes with it is because aro is truthfully worse than him when he throws a tantrum

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 08 - Sex Magic]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Jungkook x sub f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Wizard!Jungkook, Fantasy!AU

Kinks: love making, vaginal penetrative sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, blowjob, cunnilingus, spit, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), edging (m.receiving), praise, body worship, sex magic & toys aka he enchants a crystal wand so it becomes a vibrator, size & strength kink, cuddly aftercare

Wordcount: 7.4k

a/n: someone gave me these kinks and i went “what if KOOK was the one with magic for a change?” and then this was born. also, i say this with pride, he is 100% and proudly inspired by Howl Pendragon from Howl’s Moving Castle, like, this is basically a Howl!AU with Kook. i also wholeheartedly fell in love with this Kook oh my lORD he is so dreamy and perfect <3

Jungkook Pendragon was many a things. Healer of the sick. Protector of the weak. Traveller of worlds. Wizard of one’s trust. Lover of animals and nature. An introvert rarely happy about small talk. Connoisseur of good foods. And man of immaculate beauty. He possessed the wits and intelligence to escape many a dicey situations. His bravery and courage was known just as well as his kind and empathetic heart. His humour never stooped down to insult other people, instead it so very often came down to making a fool of himself for the sake of a good laugh. But as funny as he was, he was also serious. He was intense and stern and scary if one dared to cross him. He was powerful and those who wronged the innocent felt his strength to its fullest. 

In his daily life however, Jungkook rarely showed off his strength. He helped flowers bloom anew or lit a fire for a desperate baker, he filled the bowl of a hungry stray cat or showed curious children a harmless but wondrous magic trick. Whatever his little show of strength might be, in his daily life, Jungkook wanted to bring happiness to the living beings around him with it.

You were no exception from people he wanted to make smile. Perhaps you were the one whose happiness was most important to him. His beloved and cherished wife. Only human and terribly weak against the dangers of dark distant lands. And he loved you more than he had ever loved another before.

You lived in his hometown your whole life. You knew of his existence and the help he bore to the townsfolk. You also knew that sometimes his windows went black and that meant his house wasn’t exactly in town. He explained to you later when you and he were already lovers how it worked. That he needed to use a lever by the front door to teleport his interior and the beings inside to another place and that he possessed buildings in each place to teleport into. Some of these places you were allowed to as well, while others he kept hidden from you because they would be too dangerous. 

Sometimes you stay in town while Jungkook disappears through the door and when he returns again, he brings the stench of death and signs of a hard battle. You always nurture him back to health even if seeing his body bruised and broken from fights hurt you. 

Now back to how you met. It was five years ago when a wicked warlock cursed your cats to stone. You knew instantly to seek the wizard Jungkook Pendragon for help. Up until this point, you have only heard of him and perhaps seen him hurry through the streets in passing, and when you stood before him, you barely managed to get your words out. He was beautiful. Beautiful beyond your wildest imagination. His skin radiated in health and youth. His hair, dark as raven feathers and slightly wavy, ended just a little above his shoulders. His eyes were friendly and filled with galaxies. They were the darkest brown, but glowed purple when he used his magic. His features were ethereal and his body both strong and slim. He was taller than you and smelled of sandalwood. Back then, he smiled at you and asked what you needed and you somehow stuttered your problem. He knew exactly what to do and somehow through being yourself, you managed to catch his attention as well. It wasn’t long after, and because of some very intense romancing by him, that you and he became lovers. You married but six months after, about which your parents were very happy. You moved into his house one day after the wedding, taking your two cats and everything you owned with you. Jungkook welcomed you in his home gladly. He gave you his sunniest room and encouraged you to fill it with your most beloved hobbies. Each time you placed a thing of yours somewhere in the house, he smiled and said how much he loved it there. And over time, his home became as much your home as it was his’. He even fulfilled your dream of owning a garden, accessible through his magic door and built just for you.

Jungkook Pendragon was many of things. Wizards, healer, protector and fighter, but most of all he was your beloved husband. The man you love more than you have ever loved another person. 

Dawn has long past and the town was whispering for sleep. Jungkook hasn’t come home yet. It has been since the morning when he went through one of the bad doors. It worries you to the point you can’t find calm. The dinner is dished, cold by now, and he should be home already. The only dinner you managed to get down were your own fingernails as you bit them in nervousness. Your cats, Fili and Kili, are sleeping by the fire but you could see from their erect ears that they were nervous as well. You cannot take it anymore. Is he still alive? You have such thoughts often when he leaves through one of the bad doors. Not every country on this planet was as safe and peaceful as your homeland. Many were cursed by monsters, war or dark magic. There were other wizards like Jungkook, but not many felt courageous enough to venture beyond their own borders. Jungkook never limited his powers to borders, he went where magic was needed and while you loved him for it, you also loathed this part of him. His kindness will kill him one day. You would never dare to tell him that because it was what he needed to feel happy, but sometimes you wished that he would stop leaving through bad doors and stay with you instead. 

Speaking of doors. The number shield above the lever suddenly flicks to black. You jump up from the armchair, staring at the front door with bated breath. The doorknob turns. Please let him be unharmed, please. The door opens, allowing the stench of phosphor to enter your home. Jungkook walks over the threshold like the wind, closing the door quickly and flicking the lever back to the town. He walks upright and with lightness in his steps. His face and clothes were darkened by soot, as were his hands, but he looked unharmed. 

“What a day”, he says, shrugging off his black cape.

“Beloved!” you call out, running to jump into his arms.

“Oh?” Jungkook catches you with a laugh and his dirtied hands under your behind.

“I’m so glad that you’re home. I was so worried that you were hurt or, or worse killed”, you almost sob into his shoulder, twisting his hair to get him closer to you. 

“Worry not about me. I’m home safe.” 

“Yes? Oh Jungkook, my beloved”, you cradle his face.

Jungkook sets you down gently, holding your waist as he smiles down at you. 

“You are so dirty. Oh my beloved, are you truly unharmed?”

“Yes, I promise you this is just soot which lingered in the air. I fought and won.” 

“You will cause me heart problems one day. You’re finally home”, you say and hug him, face buried in his strong chest despite his dirtied clothes.

Jungkook hugs you back, caressing the back of your head. He leans down and kisses the crown of your head, resting his cheek on it afterwards with closed eyes. His beloved woman. He loves this part of his days the most. To return home and be greeted by your hug is truly what Jungkook does all of this for. 

“My little love”, he whispers, holding you safely, “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too, so very much.” You crane your neck so you could look up at him and get on your tiptoes. Jungkook meets you in the middle, cradling your cheeks as you and he kiss. His lips taste of ash and so you pull back with a slight scowl.

Jungkook chuckles, “I know I taste awful. Let me bathe and then I will really kiss you.”

“Yes, alright. I shall warm dinner in the meantime.” 

“Oh my little love”, he whispers and kisses your forehead in gratefulness. He breaks away from you to hurry upstairs in light steps and a melody on his lips. You clean off the soot from your clothes and cheeks, hurrying to the kitchen afterwards.

Dinner is served and warm when Jungkook skips down the steps. He changed into black pants into which he tugged a white flowy shirt. His bare feet are almost silent on the many rugs spread on the wooden floor. He dances to your side, picks you up to twirl with you once. You laugh loudly, wobbling slightly when he sets you down again.

“How I missed you”, he says, hugging you close and nuzzling his face into your neck. His hands roam your body innocently, rubbing your back and waist, giving your buttocks a gentle squeeze and caressing your arms. It is as if he refuses to let go and you love it so much, melting into him if there wasn’t dinner waiting. 

He ends his loving touches by holding your waist and cradling your hand with the other, resting his forehead against yours to sway with you to melodies he hums. It is as if you were dancing.

You smile, having your eyes closed. He has such a beautiful singing voice. Sometimes when sleep comes a little harder to you, as it sometimes does to a person, Jungkook caresses your face and sings to you softly until you fell asleep. You love these nights so very much and whenever he is gone for longer than a day and you can’t fall asleep because of worry, you are damned to a sleepless night. Are have gotten so used to his singing that living without is like torture. 

“Is this a new melody? You keep humming it lately?” you whisper.

“Yes, I thought of it”, he says and singings it softly with syllables of “lalala”s. 

You join his singing harmonising with him, which makes him smile and kiss your lips. You giggle.

“Mhm, you perfect blessing you”, he says, trying to deepen the kiss but you squirm away for the sole purpose of talking. If there wasn’t dinner waiting for you and him, you would want to stay in this moment for ages.

“Dinner will be cold again if we take any more time.” 

“Mhm, you’re right.” He kisses your cheek and steps back, but keeps his hands on your waist. “What did you make?” 

“Your favourite. Potato stew with cow’s meat. The bread is fresh, from baker Yoongi. Sit down, sit down.” 

“I’m in a dream. You have no idea how much this will cheer me up tonight.” 

He sits down, earning himself a kiss to his shoulder before you sit down as well opposite of him. You break the bread, giving him the bigger piece because he always eats so much more than you when he returns from a bad door. 

You talk about your days during dinner. You tell him that you went into town for shopping and that you met your parents for some tea. He tells you about the dangers he encountered. The situation in Berking was brittle as more and more fire demons invaded the mountainous lands and threatened the livelihood of the people. Jungkook worked together with the wizard of Berking, Taehyung Emerand, but he fears that soon their shared powers won’t be enough to ward off the demons. Jungkook plans on visiting the wizard Seokjin Koral tomorrow and ask for his aid in the matter. He is positive that the wizard will help. 

You and Jungkook clean the kitchen together after dinner and because it is so late already, you decide to go to bed soon after.

It took you a while to get used to Jungkook’s bedroom. His furniture was dark and the bed most comfortable, but the room was brimming with treasures. There was no wall which wasn’t covered in trinkets or artworks and no surface which didn’t carry more trinkets or healing plants. Many of the items were of magical nature and helped Jungkook recharge when he slept. Some bore memories while others were merely of aesthetic nature. You felt overwhelmed from all the views at first, but now you loved it dearly. Every item had its home and it fit so well together with the rest. These days, there are a few of your trinkets in the collection as well, looking perfectly in place. The floor was entirely covered in colourful, expensive rugs scattered without plan. Most corners of the room, or spaces where you rarely walked, were covered in stacks of books. Tonight, Jungkook reads one of the books when you enter the bedroom in nothing but your sleeping gown. He stepped out of his pants as well, now lying in bed with a bared behind covered by the warm blanket. 

“The water was really warm tonight. I barely wanted to leave the bath.”

“Yes, it felt good on the skin. The weather gets colder here again so it’s nice to have a warm bath.”

“Yes, not long and we will have to use the thicker blanket. I can’t wait, I love this blanket”, you say, getting comfortable under the covers. 

Jungkook lowers the book and places his hand on the side of your head so he could caress you gently. You gaze up at him, head the only thing sticking out from under the blanket. The light of the night lamp illuminates his face in warm colour, his dark hair falls in soft waves. Looking at him will never not make your heart flutter.

“Please don’t die far away from me, Jungkook Pendragon.”

“Oh beloved, you worry too much”, Jungkook speaks softly, massaging your ear soothingly. 

“Please just promise me.”

“I promise you. I shall grow old until I look like a raisin and then die in your arms.” 

You snicker, making him smile with it. 

“Yes, I can accept that.”

He chuckles, booping your nose. 

“You’re too cute.” 

He picks up the book and continues where he left off. You continue where you left off too, which is staring at his face to make sure that he was truly back with you again. 

“What are you reading?” you ask him, fingers tracing the side of his thigh mindlessly under the blanket.

“Spells I might need tomorrow. If Seokjin wants to leave for Berking right away, I want to be prepared.”

“So you will fight again tomorrow?” 

Jungkook lowers the book, meeting your eyes.

“Hey, little love”, he brushes his hand over your temple soothingly, “don’t worry about me. Nothing will happen to me, I promise.”

“You made a promise about raisins.”

“And I intend to keep it”, he says, scratching your scalp softly so your thoughts could calm down. He continues petting you like this as he gets lost in the book again, using magic to float it in front of him and flick the pages. 

What if you won’t ever see him again? Jungkook wants you to calm down and find sleep, but you can’t. You could lose him tomorrow. He could be gone, leaving you alone with no arms to lie in and no person to call home. If this moment wasn’t so tranquil, you would be crying. Instead you look at his face to memorise every inch of it just in case. 

Jungkook soon glances at you. 

“Try to sleep, beloved” he whispers, brushing his fingers over your lids gently to close them. 

“I can’t. I’m worried about tomorrow.”

“Don’t, I will return back to you.” Jungkook lies down on his side, kissing your forehead as he holds you close. “Try to sleep, beloved, please try to sleep.”

“I can’t. I want to look at you longer.” 

“Do I have to tire you, mhm?” 

Your lids flutter, as does your heart. Jungkook smiles sweetly, pinching your cheek and kissing it.

“Try to sleep, yes?” he whispers before sitting back up to return to the book. 

You continue to stare. His words made you desperate for him. You didn’t even think of this yet. If you lose him, you will also lose the intimacy. 

Jungkook is many a things. Wizard, healer, saviour, husband. And he is also the most attentive lover. You knew some intimacy before Jungkook, but truly got to know it through him. He waited after your wedding, of course he did. As a matter of fact, he was such a gentleman, that he didn’t even kiss you before you were officially his wife for he didn’t want to spoil your honour. The first kiss you shared was during the wedding ceremony and then later at night, Jungkook kissed you properly, sealing your shared fate. He couldn’t get enough of you and you couldn’t get enough of him. It always feels so good to be intimate with him. What if tonight is the last night to share this feeling? 

“Beloved?”

Jungkook sighs and looks at you, “why are you still up? Look at you, you seem so tired already.” 

“I don’t care. I want to be with you.”

“You are, little love, you are. In sleep as well.”

“Not yet, I have a wish.”

He places the book aside and lies down on his side, drawing calming circles on your upper back. His eyes are filled with so much love, his face looks constantly happy when he looks at you.

“Tell me your wish.”

“Can we love each other tonight? If you don’t return tomorrow, I want to have something to think back fondly on.”

Jungkook swallows the words he actually wanted to speak, that your worries were for nought and that you should sleep, when he sees how much you truly needed this tonight. He smiles with his eyes and kisses the shell of your ear.

“Of course, my beloved. We can love each other.” 

“Really?” 

"Yes, of course. I missed you today. Loving you like this, would make me very happy.”

“It would make me happy too. Jungkook, my beloved.” You touch his chest. “Can I taste you?” 

“You.” He gulps, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “You would want this?” 

“Yes. A lot.”

“I, I want it as well.” 

You sigh his name. He cradles your cheek.

“But first I need to kiss you. Truly kiss you.”

You meet him eagerly, fingers burying themselves deep in his soft hair and lips so ready to be claimed. Jungkook smiles into the kiss because of your eagerness, purring softly while his hand pulls you closer by your waist. He puts his other arm under your head, placing his hand on your shoulder. Naturally and happily, you drape your leg over his hips, breaking the kiss to whisper.

“This feels so good.” 

“It does, my beloved. I love holding you.” 

The kiss continues. Your hearts beat in sync, your lips dance perfectly together. How you both needed this tonight. He missed you all day, looking forward to the moment he was finally with you again. You missed him as well, worrying for his safety and healing now that he was kissing you again. 

You remember the first night he properly kissed you. You laid under him, cradled in his strong arms and with your breath stolen by him. It has been years ever since and it still feels as exciting as it did back then. Perhaps even more exciting because your love for each other grew over the years. Familiarity, intimacy, connection replaced the once thrilling feeling of learning each other and with it allowed your love to blossom. Being known and knowing in return is much better than getting know, it truly is. Jungkook knows that you love it most when he uses his tongue to trace your lips. You know that he gets especially excited when you run your nails over his scalp. You use your knowledge tonight, soon turning the kiss from gentle to just a little starved. You moan first, Jungkook answers you instantly, hand gripping your thigh to tug you closer. His hold on you is gentle but desperate. The hardness poking your middle shows his hunger even better. You and he both know that you needed to end this kiss in order to continue.

It breaks with shaky breaths leaving the both of you. You can’t stop looking at him. He reciprocates, starry eyes racing between yours. His fingers brush your cheek, his whisper comes oh so very quietly.

“I love you with the very essence of my soul, ___ Pendragon.” 

“I love you with every breath I draw, Jungkook Pendragon.”

He exhales shakily, resting his forehead against yours. You and he close your eyes.

“My little love….” 

For a brief second, you enjoy the moment of connection. You are both aroused yet want to take time to truly savour each other. Being naked and getting it done quickly is easy, but what truly makes intimacy with him so wonderful is that you equally want to take your time. You savour the connection, the moments your souls are intertwined and your hearts are one.

“I feel so good”, you breathe.

“I feel so good, too”, he whispers.

“I want you.”

“I want you too, so very much that my hand…” he dances it to your behind and gives it a gentle squeeze, “...wants to act up.”

You giggle, he chuckles. 

“You’re just being cheeky.”

“Mhm, I am. It makes you laugh.” 

“Oh beloved you”, you break the connection by gently pushing him to his back. He moves gladly, breath quickening at what was to come. You peck his lips first, then lie down on your stomach, draping your arm over his waist. You feel up his chest slowly, gazing at his face. His heart races uncontrollably. 

“You’re beautiful”, you say and rest your cheek on his chest, scrunching your face in a love drunk smile. And as you rest, your hand rubs him slowly, memorising how it feels to touch him. “My strong love and yet you are still so soft.” 

Jungkook smiles, brushing his hand down your cheek. With a giggle and scrunch of your nose you lift yourself again to kiss him over the shirt. Your hands and fingers guide your lips, painting a picture of him in your memories. His strong yet comfortable chest, which is so perfect to hide in, his delicate collarbones, on which necklaces always sit so prettily, his tender neck which always smells so good and his strong shoulders, which are perfect to lean on, his even stronger arms which give the best hugs and then you take the path back. You brush your lips over his nipples, making him sigh softly, but you don’t linger. You need to kiss his stomach next, which is so strong but also so soft when he lies with you. You hug him and rest your cheek on it.

“You are so soft, you really are.” 

Jungkook chuckles but sighs soon after. He feels so warm inside. If this is how he can spend the night before battle, he is one lucky man. Quite frankly, he is the luckiest man who ever lived. He is married to you after all. 

It so happens that you soon reach the edge of the blanket. You glance at his face briefly. His eyes are closed. So it will be a surprise. Good. You love surprising him.

You push the blanket down to the middle of his thighs carefully and slip his shirt up to his lower stomach, exposing his hardened length. You keep one arm still around his waist, using it to support some of your weight as you lower your starving mouth to his length. He fits between your lips as if he was molded just for you. 

Jungkook gasps loudly, hand falling to the nape of your neck and fingers ever so slightly dimpling your skin. His hips twitch up, his length throbs on your tongue. The surprise was successful. How exciting. 

You moan and begin moving. You concentrate on his tip, using both your tongue and lips to taste him. He is sensitive where he leaks and around his frenulum, so you switch between these two spots, listening to the sweet moans he releases in reaction. His hand is still on your neck, grasping it and when he doesn’t, he gives you gentle rubs of gratefulness. 

You lick his taste from his slit, purring in answer to his gasped moans. You enjoy his taste a lot. At first, you were surprised by how he tasted down there. You always expected it to be different flavoured, more like milk to match the look of it, but that isn’t so. It is masculine when he is deeply aroused and sweet when he ate lots of fruit and sometimes it carries a hint of salt in its taste but most of all, it tasted like him. And you loved this flavour so much that you find yourself drooling all over him right now. You slurp it up, picking up what you can’t swallow with your fingers to spread it on his lower inches in a deep and skilful massage.

“Beloved this is…” He groans deeply, kicking the mattress as you force his legs to be restless. “...a lot. Ah mmhhgm.”

What an exciting reaction. Your stomach flutters and your wetness grows between your legs. You sink him between your lips, keeping them relaxed so they move as you suck him. You press the flat of your tongue against his length, moving your head in the same rhythm you move your hand.

“Beloved ah”, he gasps, fingers digging into your tender neck desperately. He kicks the sheets, bucking his hips up afterwards. 

Encouraged by his reactions, you pick up speed and depth, drooling down his length without bothering to swallow it. 

Jungkook moans loudly, hand dropping from your neck to reach up and grab the corner of his pillow. He cannot decide whether to keep his eyes closed or gawk at the ceiling in disbelief. He also cannot decide whether to dig his head into the pillow or lift it in surprise. Neither can he decide whether to gasp or moan. Perhaps he does all of these things. With no pattern behind them. They just happen and happen while you suck his very soul out of his length. He feels it in every inch of his cock, feels it in his balls as well. It burns like fire and consumes the very same. It spread to his stomach by now, lingering as a warm, tight knot. It consumed his legs as well, rendering them useless and tingly as if millions of fire ants crawled over them. 

He might release in your mouth if he wasn’t careful. It would feel so good and you would love it so much, but he can’t. If you want tonight to truly be memorable, he wants to do it the right way. He wants to look into your eyes as he lets go and feel your fingers grasp his arms as you feel it coat your walls. 

You moan around him, head pounding in pleasure. You love to have him in your mouth. It shouldn’t feel that good to have something hit your throat over and over again but it does. You love him inside so much that you feel no need to gag or choke, only the need to consume him more and more.

“Stop it now”, Jungkook however stops you, sliding his hand to your chin to gently pry you off his length. “Stop or you will make me release.”

You slip off begrudgingly, turning your head to look at him. Your lips are puffy and glossy, your eyes are hazy. Jungkook feels thoughtless at the view of you, except for one thought. 

“Oh you, let me kiss you”, he gets out and pulls you up to him so he could do just that. You whimper, melting into him instantly. You don’t mind anymore that he stopped you from tasting his orgasm, not when he kisses you so hungrily. He flips your position, claiming the emptiness between your legs with his hips. Only the thin fabric of your sleeping gown keeps you from connecting deeper. 

“Oh you…perfect woman. You felt so good I feared for my heart. Oh you…”

Jungkook tastes himself on your lips and tongue as he kisses you. It makes him want to kiss you even more, even better, even longer. Not just your lips. Everywhere. Your beautiful face, which he always thinks of for happiness when times are hard, your tender neck so soft and smelling always so good, your collarbones which are prettiest when sunlight hits them, your shoulders which sometimes get stiff but which relax so easily when he rubs them, your arms which are the only home he will ever have, your chest which is rather precious to handle. He palms your breasts and gathers them carefully so he could kiss them over the thin fabric. His warmth seeps into your skin like this, drawing gasps from your lips. He feels so good on your body.

“You are the living proof that the creator is an artist. She carved you from the very soils of beauty, my beloved”, he breathes, lips ghosting over your tender nipples without ever deepening the touch. That is the task of another night, he needs to worship every inch of you. Your sides which he loves to hold and gently tickle because it makes you laugh, your upper stomach which tenses whenever he makes you belt in laughter, your stomach which is so soft. So soft. Jungkook finds himself sinking his head into it and sighing your name. 

He gazes up at you, holding your sides.

“I’m home when I’m with you, ___ Pendragon.” 

You ruffle his hair, smiling at him.

“You’re my home too.” 

Jungkook sighs happily, lifting his head to continue his path. He wiggles under the blanket and lifts your gown, sticking his head under it. You gawk with bated breath, waiting for his wet tongue between your folds. 

It never comes, instead he places dozens and dozens of kisses on each of your inner thighs, drawing a sigh from your lips. You prop your legs up all on your own, getting his hands on your upper hips outside the gown. You can hold them like this and you do, grabbing one finger per hand as he kisses a path closer and closer to your heat. 

Jungkook bends the fingers you hold, letting you know that he was holding you back. The warmth between your folds hits you a second later, surprising you so greatly that you squeak and close your legs on his head.

“Mhm.” He lifts his mouth, “forgive me. Too far?”

“No, no sorry. I startled, that’s all. Please more”, you stutter, opening your legs.

“I will be gentle, I promise my beloved”, he says and sticks his tongue out to part your petals with it. You squeeze the fingers you hold, moaning his name. 

Jungkook closes his eyes, releasing a breath of utter relief. He loves to be between your legs. You offer him such heaven. You are soft and tender and so warm. When he excites you, your warmth begins to smell so intensely feminine and addicting that Jungkook becomes droopy. And your taste. Oh, your taste. Jungkook loves every drop of it. You become sweeter the more aroused you get and your nectar changes from thicker to more liquid. You are already so wet tonight from pleasuring him that Jungkook can’t decide where to linger. Your entrance, your petals or your clit. All of it gets traced and licked by his eager tongue. He can picture you in his mind when he does it. How you open up like the prettiest flower, how there are the first then the second petals revealing your warm depth and presenting your swollen clit.

“You’re beautiful, so beautiful” he murmurs into you and includes his lips as well. He sucks and kisses you, forcing your voice to raise in pitch as he makes you moan constantly. 

Your legs are shaky and it feels as if millions of ants were crawling under your skin, just how you made him feel. The same warmth is in your stomach as well, tight and deep inside you, hiding almost. 

You mewl and tug at his finger. Jungkook comes up with a slurp, appearing from your gown. His raven hair is messy, his rosy lips glossy. 

“Was I too rough?” he asks with worried eyes.

“No, your fingers please, your fingers.” 

“Ah, I understand”, he smiles and sticks his two longest into his mouth to coat them in a good layer of his spit. He slides his other hand to your inner thigh and opens your legs further with a gentle tug. 

You whimper in reaction, fingers grasping the sheets. To be gazed upon by him as he pleasures you is so arousing to you. He is looking at your face, watching your reaction as you take his digits.

The stretch is unbearable, not because it hurts, but because it feels too good. He is so careful in how he fills you, gliding in inch by inch. 

You whimper, face contorting in pleasure. Warm. You are so warm now that you are finally filled. 

“So beautiful. You are so beautiful”, Jungkook says and disappears inside your gown again to lick you eagerly. He traces your stuffed folds first, moaning deeply at the feeling of it. He can’t wait to exchange his fingers with his length. For now however, he wants to help you to an orgasm with just his fingers and tongue. He curls them deep inside you, pressing them against your upper walls right where it felt best. A gasp from you. Jungkook guides his tongue to your clit and presses it against you tightly to use the pressure and wet warmth to rub it with his tongue. The gasp turns into a moan. And another. Then another blending into a constant stream of noises as he gives you pleasure so intense you can see light behind your lids. 

You twist the sheets and tug on them, head buried deep in the pillow and back arched off the mattress. Your toes curl, gripping the sheets. The once quiet warmth in your lower body turns into a raging, all consuming fire. His fingers fill you entirely, the pressure on your insides is perfect and his slickened tongue is so strong in its grinds. He will make you climax. It is inescapable. 

“I have to orgasm”, you get out, whimpering his name next.

Jungkook encourages you to let go with a hungry growl, sealing your fate. 

You throw your head back and break screaming his name. Jungkook moans, tingling with you as he helps you ride it out until you pull away all by yourself. 

Jungkook licks his fingers clean before reappearing from your gown, lower face messy in your orgasm and his drool. 

“Beloved”, you croak, reaching for him. He lies himself down on you, meeting you in the middle for a kiss. You whimper and twitch, grasping him desperately as you use his kisses as your remedy. He left you so shaken from your high, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. You are alive when you can be with him this way. 

You break the kiss with a wish on your lips, “can I feel your skin on mine?” 

“Yes, of course. This would be everything to me”, he says and sits up to pull his shirt over his head. You do the same with your gown. You and he stay seated afterwards, gazing at each other.

“You’re beautiful”, you say, tracing his pecs. 

“You are just as beautiful”, he breathes and hugs you against him.

You instantly melt, eyes closing and skin taking in every second of contact it has with him. He is so warm and soft. He is the same temperature as you and yet he feels so much warmer than you. Like your only heat source in a cold room.

“I want to be with you.”

“You will be, I promise. Do you want to lie down for it?”

“Yes, very.” 

While you lie down, he disappears from your side for a brief moment to get a small wand of pure emerald, then claims his spot between your legs again. He intertwines his right hand with yours, resting on his elbows. He uses his left hand to cradle your cheek and caress it. His eyes gaze at you with so much love that you feel breathless.

“You’re beautiful.” 

“You’re beautiful too.”

“No, but you are truly so beautiful”, he whispers and furrows his brows as his emotion overwhelm him. “Oh my beloved. I will be gentle with you, I promise.” 

“Whatever you promise, please just hurry. I need you inside me. Please.”

“Help me, yes?” 

You reach down with your left hand and take his length to guide it to your entrance. You give him a gentle push and then he takes over, filling you with him in a careful push of his hips. 

Your breath hitches, you grasp his shoulder and squeeze his hand. He furrows his brows, eyes clouding over in pleasure.

“Is this good for you? Are you in pain?”

You shake your head vigorously and squeeze his shoulder as well.

“And now? I feel you tightening. Is it too much so soon after your orgasm?” 

“I’m tightening because it feels so good”, you croak and roll your hips up to take the last inch.

Jungkook moans your name, dropping his forehead against yours and squeezing his eyes shut. A curse slips from his lips, “forgive me”, he instantly apologises.

“Don’t. I agree. Damn it. Ah beloved, I love you.”

“I love you too”, Jungkook chokes out and kisses you, beginning to chase your warmth in deep but gentle movements. You swallow each other’s initial moan. Jungkook slips his hand from your cheek and grasps the pillow instead, holding it with the kind of desperate strength he wouldn’t dare to hold you in fear of hurting you. But he has to hold something like this. The tingling fire in his legs and stomach is back, his length feels even better than it did when it was being sucked by you. If he didn’t grasp something, he would go insane. He regrets not releasing in your mouth when he had the chance because he is paying the price now. 

Jungkook breaks the kiss, drool still sticking to your lips and his.

“I’m so sensitive. Every stroke feels like coming alive. I should have released in your mouth, ah beloved, ahmh it’s…you’re driving me insane.” 

“Is it too much?” 

“Almost, I’m burning up. It feels…”

“It feels so good”, you whimper.

“That’s right, it feels so good”, he agrees and moans, length so deep inside you that you swear you can feel his soul reach into you. 

You gaze up at him through your blurry vision. He is so close to you but you see enough. His pleasure twisted face, his messy hair, his flushed cheeks.

“You are so beautiful right now, so beautiful.” 

“You are…beauti…ful…too”, he struggles with his words, following it up with a growl and his fingers slipping from your grasp to instead grip your wrist and pin it into the pillow. He does it carefully, unlike how he twists the pillow. 

“My beloved, it’s so difficult not to break you. Are you still comfortable?” 

“Yes, please.”

“Oh my little love, my warm soft love… it takes everything inside me not to ruin you.”

You clench around him, arching your back. To be underneath him, to be so fragile and weak in comparison to him and to be treated with such utter tenderness because of it, is driving you insane as well. 

You reach between your bodies and touch your clit. 

“Ah!”

Jungkook peels his eyes open at the sound. His hips stop.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he gasps, worried.

“Yes, yes. Please move.”

“Oh my love, what a relief. You are just so small and tender. I worried that I hurt you for a second.” 

“Jungkook, please”, you beg him, gazing up at him pleadingly. You wiggle your hips, trying to give yourself more pleasure with quick rubs of your clit.

“No, wait. I have something for you.” 

“What?” you ask breathlessly, craving more of what he did.

He sits up, cock still inside you, and reaches for the emerald wand. He closes his fist around it and whispers an enchantment over it. It looks normal afterwards and feels warm as he places it in your hand. 

“What did you do to it?”

“Tap it once.” 

You follow. The wand begins vibrating in your fingers, “oh?” 

“For you. It will last for a day. Tap it again and it will increase gradually, tap it twice and it will stop.” 

“This is so…” 

“Place it on your clit.” 

You obey in curiosity, sitting up slightly in shock upon the initial sensation. 

“Jungkook”, you croak, walls throbbing around him.

“Does this feel good?” 

“Yes”, you mewl, nodding your head vigorously.

“Good. Use it whenever you need it.” 

Jungkook pushes you down gently and with a knowing smile, lays himself back down over you to pick up where he left off. 

You gasp and writhe, gawking at him with widened eyes. He soothes you with gentle caresses of your temples and cheeks.

“Isn’t that nice?” 

“-ice”, you manage to squeak out because then you are unable to speak, scrunching your face up and grasping his arm. 

“You are so beautiful, my beloved. I love you so much”, he moans, head dizzy because of this situation. 

You are writhing under him, hips bucking up to chase him and walls so tight around his length it is almost impossible not to orgasm. Giving you pleasure, making you feel good, is his biggest pleasure.

“You’re taking me so well, you are so beautiful, so beautiful…”

Jungkook grits his teeth and angles his hips differently to stimulate your sensitive spots. He keeps his length buried inside you for it, drawing circles. 

You inhale loudly, reaching above you to twist the pillow. Your eyes spill tears because of the intensity with which he pleasures you. You have never felt like this before. The wand gives you shakes you truly cannot control. His length has never felt so filling before, so big and ever consuming. It is as if you are giving him your very soul right now. 

“Jungkook”, his name leaves you in a desperate keen as you kick the sheets.

“Don’t hold back, I will follow. I promise you, my little love.” 

He breaks you into a million pieces just as he patches you back up again at the same time. You thought that you screamed in bed before, but you hadn’t. This is a true scream of pleasure, one so utterly soul bearing that Jungkook feels his eyes cross and roll back before he orgasms so deep inside you, he feels your walls quiver in reaction. 

You and he ride out your shared highs in messy thrusts and rolls of your hips, falling in each other’s arms afterwards to kiss sloppily. The emerald lies in the sheets, still vibrating but without use. Your fingers are in his hair, he cradles your face.

“I love you, I love you, I love you”, he chants and you answer him with the very same words over and over and over again until your breath runs out and you need to catch it together.

You stay close, rubbing your noses together gently.

“How are you feeling? Was I too rough?” he asks.

“You were perfect. You felt so good. I, I never experienced such sensations before”, you say.

“I know. You screamed. I never heard you scream like this before. My beloved, my eyes actually crossed because of it. I never felt my orgasm so intensely before.”

“Me neither. It was as if you were trying to crawl into me.” 

“And for me it was as if you wanted to consume me whole.”

You and he giggle, hugging each other. 

“You are going to drive me insane one day, ___ Pendragon.”

“Good. When the day comes, I will become mad with you, Jungkook Pendragon.”

He smiles, hiding his face in your neck. 

“Good. I can accept that.”

“It is decided then. We will become two mad raisins.”

He laughs, lifting his head to get lost in your eyes. 

“Promise. We will become two mad raisins together. My precious, beloved love”, he whispers, cradling your cheek.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 59 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With your wedding on the horizon, it wasn't the best time for you to question your place with Bradley. But he's always patient, and Noah is perfect, and it doesn't take you long to realize that your husband-to-be is always going to see you in a different way than you see yourself. 

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, blowjob smut, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Now that you were looking at your wedding dress all spread out on the bed, you were afraid to try it on. It looked too perfect. Pristine and white. It was exactly how you imagined it would be when Natasha convinced you to order it, and it looked like it would fit like a glove over your belly which was starting to grow. But right now, you were feeling so overwhelmed. 

With your reduced work hours, you were home alone until Bradley and Noah got back in another hour or so. You had the whole place to yourself to do as you pleased. Plenty of time to try this thing on and send some photos to Natasha for her opinion. Then you could unwind with a glass of juice and a nice shower. But today was starting to feel like one of those days where Bradley's perfect bungalow on the perfect street in Coronado wasn't really where you belonged.

When you felt like you were in control of things, this was your castle. You were Bradley's Princess. You were Noah's Mommy. But today you felt like a fraud. Part of you was missing your little rental house where you could feel small and insignificant. Where you only had to take care of yourself. Were you really going to marry a man over a decade older than you? Were you really capable of raising not just Noah but a baby as well?

Mortification and embarrassment flooded your body as the dress mocked you from its place on the bed. You would never be deserving of anything as perfect as this soft fabric. Or this perfect life. Why did Bradley even want you?

"Princess?"

You didn't hear him come in, but now you heard his heavy footfalls as his boots met the hallway floor. He was headed for the bedroom, and you were in tears, staring at the dress. You managed to throw the bedding and pillows on top of it as Bradley entered the room. 

"There you are. I was calling your name," he murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind and letting his hands rest on your belly.

His touch was everything you always wanted, and he hadn't seen your tears yet. You tried to pull it together as you whispered, "Actually, you were calling my nickname."

"Same thing," he whispered, his nose pressed to your neck.

"You're home early," you said, wiping your eyes. "Did you pick Noah up?"

"Not yet," he said, trying to spin you around to face him. "I thought I'd pick you up first and see if you wanted to go out to dinner after we get him. And maybe we can hit the mall so you can help me choose something to wear for that minor, little occasion that's just around the corner also known as our wedding."

You tried to fight against his grasp on your shoulders, but he spun you easily in place. You'd been too slow to remove all traces of your tears and worry, and his face fell when he looked at you. "Sorry," you whispered. "I'm just having a weird day."

"What's wrong?" he demanded softly, his grip on your hips tightening as his eyes dipped down to your belly.

"We're fine," you whispered, wishing you could convince him that was true.

"Something's bothering you," he said, his brown eyes meeting yours. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Then you started crying as he collected you against his rough flight suit. "You didn't do anything wrong. I don't even know what's wrong! I just don't belong here."

You felt his body go rigid as he held you impossibly tighter. This time he did use your actual first name, and you had to force yourself to meet his eyes. He looked concerned as he asked, "You don't think you belong here? With me? I love you."

But you just shook as tears streamed down your face. You didn't know how to say what you were feeling, so you just started talking through your sobs. "It's perfect though. You know that, right?" you asked, gasping for air as he looked at you in silence. "Your house and your son, and all of it. Everything here is perfect, Bradley. And the wedding dress arrived," you sobbed, gesturing to where there was some white fabric peeking out from the bedding. "And even it's perfect, and I just feel like a fraud. Like I'm inserting myself where I don't even belong. And I don't know how to be a mom."

You had your face buried against his chest, and he let you cry. He didn't say a word, and you weren't sure if that was better or worse right now. He just rubbed his hands in slow circles along your back until you were able to swallow and take some deep breaths. Then he guided you back so you were sitting on the edge of the bed next to the messy bedding, and he knelt down in front of you. His big hand came up to your cheek, and he swiped away some of your tears as he spoke.

"If anything here seems perfect, I can assure you it's because you're here now. It feels perfect to me, too, but it didn't always."

You swallowed hard, letting him trace your bottom lip with his thumb as you whispered, "It didn't?"

Bradley shook his head, his brown eyes wide and sincere. "No. It never felt like this before I met you. You showed up and made everything better until it was perfect. It happened slowly, but I could feel something shift right from the start. Each day got better after Noah fell in love with having you here. And after I'd known you for just a few weeks, I never wanted you to leave."

"After just a few weeks?" you asked as his hands and voice soothed you.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "I knew it. I'm sorry you had to put up with so much shit before we got to the point where it felt perfect, but I knew I wanted you with us. And then I needed you with us. And now I need you to understand that you belong here as much as Noah and I do."

"And Skittles."

The pup popped out of her bed and ran over as soon as you said her name, but Bradley kept his eyes on your face. "Always Skittles. And I hate to break it to you, Princess, but you already are a mom. So stop lying and saying you don't know how to be one. You are Noah's mom, and he's happier than I've ever seen him."

You closed your eyes and let all of his words fade into you. "But the baby will be different," you whispered even as you understood that you did know what to do. You handled kids and babies all day long at work, and you did it with care even though they weren't your own. And you did love Noah like he was yours. "But I think I can do it."

When you slipped off the bed and into Bradley's arms, he cupped your face in those hands and examined you closely. "You're not gonna be doing anything alone, Princess. I'm right here."

You nodded and breathed him in, and you already felt better knowing that this house and Bradley and Noah weren't as perfect unless you were here with them. "Can we go pick Noah up and just come back here for the night? I think I feel better, but I just want to relax."

"Anything you want," Bradley promised, and you let your arms go around his neck so he could help you to your feet. "We can come right back here, where everything feels perfect thanks to you."

------------------------

Bradley wasn't sure exactly what upset you so much earlier, but after you took a shower and ate dinner, he sent you and Noah to the couch to watch Mickey Mouse cartoons. When you paused in the doorway, you reached for him, and he went right to you with a soft kiss. You were wearing his sweatpants and an old tee shirt, and you belonged here. He didn't know how else to make you see that. But you seemed to understand it deep down where it mattered.

"I feel better," you whispered as he kissed your cheek. "My hormones are all over the place, and I'm always tired, but I do feel better. Thank you for being patient."

He was about to tell you that you didn't have to thank him for that when Noah called out. "Mommy? Are you coming?" 

A beautiful smile found your lips as Bradley said, "You belong here."

You nodded and turned toward the living room, leaving him in the kitchen to clean up. But he didn't want to have it any other way. He promised you he'd take care of everything around here, and that included wedding planning and decorating for Christmas. One problem was the fact that he barely had any decorations, because he barely had time to do anything before you. The other problem was that you were clearly worn out this week after Disneyland, but he needed your input for the rest of the planning.

After loading the dishwasher, Bradley paused and decided to make you some decaffeinated coffee in his Aviators Look Down on Others mug with an extra dollop of French vanilla creamer. He let it cool on the counter for a few minutes while he wiped down the table, and then he took a sip for himself before heading into the living room. Noah was curled up on your lap, and your fingers were gliding gently in his hair as the two of you watched your show together. 

"This is where you belong," he whispered, and you turned to look at him. 

"I know," you said with a soft smile.

Bradley snuggled in carefully next to you and handed you the mug, and soon Noah started to fall asleep. When your head came to rest on his shoulder, Bradley said, "How do you feel about me asking Amelia if she can babysit Noah on Saturday so I can take you on a date?"

"A date?" you asked softly. 

"Mmmm," he hummed. "Maybe go old school and do dinner and a movie. Something other than pizza and an animated classic. Actually leave the house and stay out past eight o'clock."

You laughed softly as Bradley pushed Noah's soft curls back from his forehead. "You do like to go old school, Daddy."

He rolled his eyes but smiled. "So is that a yes?"

"That's a hell yes," you replied. "A date with my hot baby dad sounds nice. And thanks for letting me have a freak out earlier." You looked up at him with his mug in your hands and his son sprawled halfway across your lap. "I love you, too. And I'm totally ready to get married." 

He let your words settle in his mind. There was so much to do. The extra bedroom still needed some work if it was to become the nursery. There were still a few things to finalize for the wedding. But he wanted to do all of it, and that included enjoying every moment with you. 

"Well that's good, because I'm totally ready to get married to you, Baby." He kissed your forehead and said, "I'll carry Noah to bed, and then I'll text Amelia and Penny."

When he stood with Noah curled up against his chest, you got to your feet as well, and Bradley's heart leapt as you told him, "I think I feel like trying on my wedding dress now."

"Yeah? You need any help with that?"

You shook your head and stretched, and the soft swell of all your curves was accentuated by your bump. You kissed him softly like he wasn't completely entranced by you. Like he wasn't aching to tuck Noah in and follow you to the bedroom.

"I think I'll keep it a surprise. You can see it on me in a few weeks," you said with a little smirk as he started following you toward the bedrooms.

Every mention of the wedding left him throbbing for you. When you started to close the bedroom door behind you, Bradley said, "As soon as you're undressed again and in bed, you let me know, and I'll be right in."

"Yes, Daddy."

----------------------------------

As Bradley pulled the Bronco out of the driveway, you waved to Noah and Amelia on the porch. Bradley let you pick the spot for dinner, but he said he was in charge of the movie. Then he mentioned something special that he wanted to get on the way there.

"What's the special surprise?" you asked several times as he drove. "You're just teasing me at this point."

He gave you side eye and reached for your hand. "Thought you liked that sort of thing."

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing and encouraging him. "I like it when you do it in bed a lot more."

He hummed like he was mulling over your words. "Then consider this some quality foreplay: you'll learn what the special surprise is when we get there, and not a moment before."

You moaned like you were in pleasure, and you felt the Bronco jerk a little to the right as Bradley's hand tightened around your fingers. You burst out laughing and looked over at him. "I love it when you talk Daddy to me. Oops, I mean talk dirty."

"You keep moaning like that, and I'll drive off the damn road," he muttered, checking the mirrors and changing lanes.

When he turned right and drove a block, you saw Sweet Dreams Bakery. "Oh, wait," you said, pointing out the window. "That's where you got the princess crown donuts!"

Bradley pulled past and found a spot where he could parallel park. "Yeah, and we can stop later after we buy the special items."

"Oh, we're shopping now?" you asked, happy you brought your credit card along to keep teasing him.

"We are," he confirmed, and when he helped you down from the Bronco, you realized he parked right outside a jewelry store. He led you inside and said, "Shopping for our wedding bands."

You wrapped your arms around his waist, and bounced up and down a bit. You had been making yourself giddy over the idea of Bradley wearing a ring. He was literally letting you stake your claim with something visible, and if your moan in the Bronco was intended to wind him up, the one that just escaped you was one hundred percent authentic.

"Daddy."

His dark eyes were locked onto your lips as he whispered, "Behave." 

A sales clerk with a bright smile was headed your way, and Bradley squeezed your hip in warning when she said, "Hi, Mr. Bradshaw."

You looked at Bradley with raised brows. How many times had he been here that they remembered him. "Are you here to pickup your special order?"

"Special order?" you asked as Bradley's cheeks grew pink.

"Uh, we're here to pick out weddings bands," he said, avoiding your eyes.

"Perfect," said the sales clerk, and she was immediately leading the way over to a display case. You were ready to dig your feet in and demand more information about Bradley's special order and why they knew him by name here, but he took you by the hand and tugged you gently along.

You pressed your lips together to keep quiet as you remembered that Casey lived in this neighborhood; you were really starting to dislike the idea of Bradley hanging around here when your eyes settled on a tray of men's wedding rings. "Oh," you said softly.

Bradley kissed your temple and whispered, "Tell me which ones you want me to try on for you, Princess." 

You pointed to the plain band right in the middle, and you knew before he even put it on that it was going to be perfect. He picked it up with his right hand and slid it onto his left ring finger. It was a little thicker than a traditional band, and once he had it on, he held his hand up for your inspection. 

"It's perfect," you told him, your voice a little breathless. 

"You want me to try on any others?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips. 

You kissed the edge of his mustache, letting your body clench at the rough feel of it. "No."

"You sure?" he whispered.

"Yes."

He removed the ring and handed it to the woman who worked there. "This one," he told her while he kept his eyes on you. "It's perfect."

When it was your turn to try some on, Bradley stood behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder. You started to reach for the plain bands that would match with your enormous diamond ring, but Bradley said, "What about one like that? With the little diamonds that go all the way around?"

It was gorgeous. You should have known he'd point out something spectacular looking when you considered how pretty your engagement ring was. "Bradley, it probably costs ten times more than the plain one. Besides, the plain one kind of looks like yours."

When you glanced at him over your shoulder, you were met with those Bradshaw brown eyes that you couldn't seem to say no to. "Humor me?"

So you slid it on with a soft sigh, because it was incredible. "I do like it," you told him, trying to take it off again, but he stopped you with both of his hands. 

"Then we should get it."

You tore your gaze away from him and asked the woman, "What's the price difference?"

"Please don't tell her that." You turned back to Bradley to glare at him, but of course you didn't get an answer about the price. He had the upper hand in this store. "If the price didn't matter, would you want this one?" he asked you, tapping the ring where it was still sitting on your finger.

"Maybe," you whispered. "But the plain one is just as-"

"You're not plain. You're a Princess."

The kiss you gave him was a little indecent, but you didn't really care. He slid the ring from your finger as you tasted his mouth, and you assumed he gave it to the saleswoman so he could buy it for you. You just didn't want to let go of him as his big hands moved down your sides to your belly, and then he broke the kids.

"I would get you anything you want," he whispered, his lips ghosting along yours. "Same goes for both of my kids. Now let's get dinner before we miss the movie."

You tried to pay with your credit card, but this time he shook his head and told you to put it away. The woman was discreet when she ran his card, and then she handed Bradley a bag way bigger than was necessary for two, small rings.

"Is there something for me in the bag besides the wedding band?" you asked, trying to grab it when he led you back outside.

"Maybe," he muttered. "How about you stop asking about it, and I'll buy you some donuts."

Your stomach growled pleasantly at the thought. "Great idea. We can have dessert before dinner and the movie."

Bradley smirked. "And then after the movie, we can have another round of dessert."

-------------------------------

Bradley couldn't get enough of watching you eat your dinner with your hand occasionally pressed to your belly as you chatted away. He wasn't too concerned about the way you'd been overwhelmed to the point of tears a few days ago. You were tired and pregnant and working and busy being a Mom to Noah. Your hormones were changing again after the progesterone shots ended, and he knew it was a lot. Honestly, it was a lot for him to process, too.

But tonight you looked like you always did. Young and perfect and vibrant as you told him a story about something that happened at work. You ate and ate, picking up another piece of garlic bread after you told him you were getting full.

"If you're still hungry, we can always skip the movie," he mused, and you paused as you ran the last bit of bread through the sauce on your plate.

"Oh my goodness," you said, eyes wide. "I didn't know I was basically inhaling my food."

He just shrugged as he said, "Well, you are gaining weight."

A smile found your lips, and then they were twitching before you started laughing. "Wow, Bradley. You got all the smooth lines. It's a wonder none of your app dates were successful."

He hooked your feet with his under the table as you tried to stop laughing. "That was entirely your fault. It had nothing to do with my lines, because I wasn't trying very hard. And you're supposed to be gaining weight."

You were still grinning as you said, "Once again, coming in hot with the seduction."

You were still teasing him when he signed the credit card receipt and stood. He helped you to your feet and said, "Maybe I was just saving all my worst lines to use on you. Make sure you really love me. You ever think of that, Princess?" 

"It worked," you told him. "I actually do love you. And I especially can't wait for you to start wearing your wedding band." You gasped as he held the restaurant door open for you. "What are we going to do for music for the wedding? We don't have a wedding band."

"Oh," he said with a laugh. "I made a playlist." 

 "You made a playlist?"

"Yeah, you wanna hear it while I drive to the movie theater?"

He handed you his phone and let you start up the playlist. The first song was okay. So was the second one. You skipped along a few more songs, and then you looked at him while he drove and said, "It's all your old people music."

"Damn. Who's being rude now?" he laughed. 

"It's just that it's all from the '80s!"

"So am I."

"Bradley! Be so serious!"

"What? You know how old I am."

"I'm adding some things to the playlist, and if I find the Electric Slide in here, I'm deleting it."

Bradley ran his palm across his mouth and said, "There's my little brat."

You sat up straighter in your seat, clearly proud of yourself as you tapped away on his phone screen. It was so hard to surprise you; the way you reasoned through things was exquisite. He should have known you'd call him out on the extra item from the jewelry store, and now you were glancing out the window as he pulled past the movie theater.

"Throwback '80s night?" you said, reading the marquee out loud. "Bradley Bradshaw!"

"Okay, fine," he said, parking and killing the engine. "I'm old, and I like old shit. But really, the movie selection was just for you, Princess."

You turned and looked at the marquee again as it changed to show the retro film of the night. "Adventures in Babysitting!"

-----------------------------

Bradley pulled some of the cash from the spot behind the TV and gave it to Amelia as she collected her belongings. She and Noah made some art projects together which she said were drying on the kitchen table, and once again, she offered to watch him anytime.

"He's the sweetest little guy," she promised as her eyes dipped down to your belly. "But you'll have to pay me more to watch two."

"We can negotiate your rate when the time comes," Bradley said with a laugh while he opened the front door.

"Deal." 

She walked along the path to her parked car, and Bradley made sure it started up before he shut the door. He was turning the lock as he asked, "Did you like the movie?" But then his hand froze when he realized where your fingers were.

"I did," you promised, pulling his jeans zipper down over his considerable bulge. He wasn't even hard yet, but you were already so turned on. "Wanna go on your own adventure? With your former babysitter?"

You weren't subtle as you looked up at him and licked your lips, tugging him gently toward the couch. "If I ever say no to you, then there's something seriously wrong with me," he groaned, letting you pull his jeans and underwear down so his soft length hung out from beneath his shirt. 

When he dropped down onto the cushion, you dragged his jeans down to his calves so he could spread his legs open a little wider. You kissed his tip and he made a soft sound at the back of his throat as he started to get hard. You dragged your hands up and back down his full length, keeping your eyes locked on his. "Hi, Daddy," you whispered before dragging your tongue along the pretty bead of his precum, enjoying the way he throbbed.

"Hi, Princess," he managed as you smiled up at him. His voice sounded strained as you moved slowly and meticulously, stroking him until he was rock hard.

Right before you took him between your lips, you said, "We're getting married." You smiled around his length as he whined your name, and you let him thrust until he tapped the back of your throat. Then you sucked along his length, inch by inch, until he popped free from your lips, and you whispered, "And we're having a baby."

His fingers found your cheek, his skin a little rough against your face as you rested your head on his thigh. Bradley's eyes were glued to yours, watching you with wide pupils as you lazily kitten licked his cock and stroked his balls with your thumb. "You look so pretty like this," he rasped, and you kissed him before continuing with your little licks. "You're gorgeous when you're driving me out of my mind."

You giggled softly, and his cock throbbed against your lips. "I like teasing you."

Bradley grunted, his fingers tipping your chin up as he said, "I can fucking tell. And you can tease me all you want as long as you suck me off in the living room for the rest of my life."

You licked his length and whispered, "I'll put it in my wedding vows." Then he guided your parted lips around his cock again, and he moaned in satisfaction as you took him deep. 

His stamina was commendable like always. You gagged yourself on him over and over until your saliva was dripping down your chin and his balls. You gripped at his thighs as he thrust up to meet you with his fingers gentle on your face. And all the while, he words were sweet in comparison to the rough hairs rubbing your lip and the tears burning your eyes. 

"You're perfect, Baby. Can't get enough. Gonna marry you... my beautiful Princess."

When he finally came, you were sputtering and practically in tears before scrambling up onto his lap as he told you he loved you. Bradley's hands found your belly as you kissed him. 

"I love you too, Daddy," you whispered before he dipped his tongue between your lips to taste himself. Soon you and he would be married. You were pregnant and exhausted and letting him do most of the planning, but it would be great. No matter what happened on your wedding day, it would be perfect. You'd have Bradley and Noah as your family. The baby was healthy. You didn't want to overthink how you belonged here and fit with them. You knew that you did, even when it was hard to see yourself the way Bradley always seemed to. You snuggled against him and said, "I think you're perfect, too."

-------------------------

I love this family. The next chapter was originally going to be their wedding, but I got some asks about Bradley's bachelor party, and well now I'm intrigued. So there may be one more chapter than I anticipated! If you have DILF Bradley bachelor party thoughts, please let me know. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 60

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[orshii]

Destiny Awaits

☀︎ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader ☀︎ Word count: 5,5 k ☀︎ Warnings - mentions of death, mentions of child abuse, necromancy

☀︎ Summary: The Sunrise Kingdom plunged into deep sorrow with the death of the King’s daughter. Desperate to bring her back, Yunho was determined to find a way, just like her father, the king. Will they succeed in restoring her to life, or will they ultimately have to let her go for good?

☀︎ A/N: Heyy, I'm back omg. I haven't posted in like two months, a lot happened in my life, but finally, I settled a bit down and I can get back to writing, which I really did miss because it was always like therapy for me. So about this story...One part of the story was already written years ago, it was inspired by Orianna's story (if you play LoL you will understand lmao) the other side was in a process months ago, so I finally put it together when this happened. I hope the POV's are understandable, let me know if it's not. The whole thing is not a big deal, it's just a beautiful story that means a lot to me. That is all, I guess, enjoy and I hope I can come back to writing more. Byee! xoxo orshii (divider)

Once upon a time, there was the Sunrise Kingdom, where only peace existed. The folks always respected their beloved king, who made everyone feel at home and fulfilled every wish they whispered into the sunrise.

The king had a sweet little daughter, Y/N, who loved to dance. Her heart was full of passion, and her soul danced to the sounds of the world. Her father loved her with every inch of his heart because he had no one left in this Kingdom besides his people.

Y/N's mother tragically died when she was born, as their souls switched places and her mother lived in her daughter's heart from then on. 

The king's daughter grew up in the blink of an eye, and she lived her best life. Her days were spent dancing around the castle full of sunshine and meeting with her best friend Yunho, who was the second most important person in the world. He was a boy who she met in the crowded streets when she was visiting their people with her father.

Yunho was a tall boy even though they were quite little when they met. His sincere smile which beamed only happiness, immediately made the little girl's heart warm up. He always wore clothes made out of cheap material, it was ripped here and there because they were overused, and his white shirt with some strings on its neck was always dirtied with soot and soil just like his face.

When she saw him for the first time, the boy was playing on his violin for the people passing by him enjoying the sound the instrument made, brightening their day up. A little black hat was on the floor as it waited for some pennies from the people who passed by. And when she heard the sweet voice of the violin, she immediately wanted to find the source of the sound. As soon as she saw him, the girl felt like she had become a new person that did not exist until that moment.

The boy played the violin with so much passion on his face she couldn't get her eyes off him. The boy's features were soft and he seemed in the girl's eyes, he was a person who would give you the world. She immediately started to connect with the boy with an invisible line that connected them like it was destiny.

 And the music he was playing...it was like he was playing with the strings of her heart. It was speaking to her soul and the sweet sounds of the violin full of sunshine and passion, made her little feet immediately dance.

She couldn't resist. The boy was playing the violin with closed eyes so he could convey the feelings that he felt about his life. The girl started to dance in front of him, spinning around with graceful moves with closed eyes, so she could convey her soul to the music.

It was like everything went black around them and the boy was standing there now with wide-open eyes as he watched the girl dance to his music with burning passion. He was in awe as he had never seen someone this passionate about something. It made him play with the desire to get to know this girl who danced full of life in her heart. As the boy watched the girl dance to his music, he imagined the violin's notes escaping from his instrument and the girl dancing on them, hopping from one to one like a ballerina, jumping in the air to catch the sweet notes of the violin, chasing them so it can light up her soul.

From that day, they became inseparable. They were glued to each other as they met every day. Sometimes it was the place was the poor and warm home of Yunho's and sometimes it was the rich surroundings of Y/N's castle. They grew up together into beautiful humans, no one could compete with their unique beauty.

Not until the world suddenly went quiet.

It was a dark and tragic day, even though the sun was shining with its full power. But when the king's daughter suddenly collapsed on the floor when she was dancing, the world became voiceless. It was deaf silent. The beaming sun hid behind the dark clouds and it never came back just like the girl's soul. As abruptly as it happened, just as abruptly did she leave this life.

The Kingdom of Sunrise became the Kingdom of Grief.

The king almost died of the loss of his daughter. The Kingdom was in mourning for years. While the people slowly got over the death of their beloved princess, the king was unable to. But something kept him going, perhaps the memory of his little daughter and the dear wife he loved so much. They lived in his heart for eternity.

Something felt strange—I was back in the throne room where I spent so much time as a child, sitting on the floor asking the maids to play with me, because I had no one else to play with. Only my father who was by my side every time his time let him. He was the king of Sunrise Kingdom; he was busy with the duties and responsibilities a king needed to keep.

The throne room looked the same, the main colors were light beige as the pillars held the ceiling that reached the sky, it looked like it had no end, and the beautiful landscape of the Sunrise Kingdom was painted on the walls by famous painters all around the world. There was one painting behind the throne, that was made out of glass.

This painting illustrated the most anticipated phenomenon in this Kingdom and it got its name because of it; the sunrise. This sunrise was beyond the imagination. When the sun decides to wake up early in the morning, it starts as usual; the sun rises, creating a breathtaking landscape, where it ascends from behind the big mountains, painting the land in yellow and orange colors. The mountains that are all around the Kingdom, embrace it, creating a protecting wall. But that is not all, as the sun slowly rises, suddenly it disappears and darkness swallows the Kingdom for a few minutes. This happens because the mountains are so huge that they block the rising sun, but as it climbs higher, the sun gradually reappears, making it look like the sun is rising two times in the Kingdom, painting the sky with light colors, awaking the folks to start their day as the natural miracle guides the way through the day.

This is the reason the Kingdom got its name, because miracles happen here and the people who live here believe in miracles.

And as I looked around the throne room, it felt like it wasn't real. As if I was in a dream, where I had no physical body. Then I spotted my father, sitting on the throne made out of glass, as his eyes were staring at the floor. His gaze was now dark and hopeless, that once was full of light and kindness. He was leaning to the side of the throne made out of glass, his head supported by his elbow. He looked like he wasn't in this world like he was lost in between the realms that were full of demons.

'Oh, my sweet, caring father, who was by my side since I was little, he protected me from the nightmares that hunted me in my sleep, from the people who tried to disown me from this world. He protected me from the world not letting the bad take over him. He was still a caring and lovable father, and seeing him like this made my heart break. I have never seen him in a melancholy, that made him forget where he was.

"My dear, father why are you so sorrowed?" I spoke with a soft voice, reaching my hand towards his face, where a single teardrop escaped his eyes. I reached my hands but as my fingertips were close to his face, it just melted into his wrinkled face.

"Oh, my precious little daughter…" My father sobbed into his hands; my heart shattered into pieces seeing him like this.

"I'm here, father, look at me." I wanted to lift his head to look at me, but my hands had no grip, it went through my father's face like it wasn't even there.

I was frozen in place, time stopped ticking, and my finger froze to his face where the teardrop fell over it like it wasn't even there. I looked down at my body, it was still me…but— something was wrong. My hands traveled to my chest, waiting for the familiar pumping of my chest—it did not come. Then I glanced at the throne where I could see my reflection and I saw myself but I was as white as a swan, my skin looking pale as I touched my cheek, the once pink lips were gone, almost looking white with a hint of light blue, my cheeks that were always blushing of how warm I felt, now gone. I was wearing a white dress that almost melted into my skin. The warmth of my body that the sun always filled up, now felt like the cold winter that always hunted the Kingdom with its icy weather and dark sky.

Once I was the embodiment of summer, now I looked like the cruel winter. It made me realize—I was not alive.

The king just couldn't get over his sweet little daughter's passing. It was torturing in a way that made him feel like it was not worth living anymore. He remained alone in the world he created alongside his daughter. They created this Kingdom together...and now the light of the Kingdom was not living with them anymore. The sun did rise two times in the morning, but its light faded away the longer the king's daughter passed away. The Kingdom went into deep grief, the once happy folks that went around the streets singing joyfully, now passed by each other not even looking at each other.

The king stood on the balcony of his massive castle, towering over the landscape like a shadow. Yet, it offered the people a safe haven, a place they could always run to whenever they felt unsafe. And that was the purpose of the king, so his people would gladly run to him every time they needed help because he wanted to help.

But looking down at his people, walking on the streets without joy, the sun not shining as bright as it used to be. It was like the weather was cooperating with people's emotions—who became slowly emotionless, which led the Kingdom to let the darkness embrace it through the dark clouds that never appeared there before.

The King had reached his limit—he would not abandon his people, nor allow his beloved daughter to die. He knew he had to ask for a favor. 

And that favor led the King to ride beyond his Kingdom to a wicked witch, who hid in the depths of the Sea of Tears. The Sea of Tears were piled up by the tears of people who only cried because of joy, they could make a wish if they cried, but only if it was because they were happy. The ones who were heartbroken, and mournful, had no chance in there, they needed to seek happiness just to wish for their deepest desires.

 The King and the witch encountered once, when the moon broke into two and when the stars poured like rain from the bright sky. The King saved the witch from a monster that wanted to suck the life out of her.

So, the witch owned him one. And the king went to ask for that favor. It almost took one year to find the witch and to make a deal with her.

Months later the king announced to his people a miracle that no one believed was possible.

My dearest people, He shouted as he was standing on the balcony of his castle full of grief.

Our Kingdom lost something so precious that is impossible to replace; our princess who is solely going to live in our hearts forever.

That is what I assumed, could make me live more than one day; but it was not enough for my breaking heart, I couldn't stand the pain anymore.

I struck a deal with someone so I could see my sweet daughter once more, perhaps even have her by our sides forever.

However, I need your dearest support in that; the witch of the Sea of Tears created a doll for me that looks exactly like my daughter. She helped me create my daughter, but there is a predicament.

My daughter's soul can find a home in the doll's plush heart, but it will only awaken if it hears pure music played on an instrument that once resonated with a passion beyond this world. 

This is the only way we could bring back our princess. I count on every one of you.

Let us bring her home, together!

Yunho’s pov

It was almost half a decade ago, that she died. The world has not been the same since. It went dark, happiness just stopped existing. Especially for me. She was the light in my miserable days, she was the person who melted my cold heart whenever she danced to the sounds coming from my violin. It made both of us burn with passion for music.

But she was gone, and it felt like the music died with her too.

I haven't been playing since that day. I just couldn't get myself to play on my violin, because it reminds me of her and my heart aches physically if I think about her. Because even though I played the violin, she made the music coming from it, live. It was magical when she danced. I always imagined her, with colours sparkling around her, as she spun around to the sound of my violin. As her big, blue eyes closed to feel the music, as her rosy lips curved up, as she always beamed happiness, the pink ballet shoes on his feet, that were worn out from the constant dancing, but she loved it so much, she would've never changed it to a new one.

I played on the violin since I could walk, I loved it because it made me disconnect from the world. I needed that, my father was beating me almost every evening, as he always came home drunk as a skunk, I didn't do anything but he just hit me and shouted into my face that the reason why our mother left us was me.

The reason is still a mystery why my mother left us, and I think I will never find it out. I needed to take care of my little brother and save him from our father, who slowly killed the humanity inside of him, from the wound our mother left behind.

So, I started to play the violin on the streets, hoping I could make a living from it. At first, people just stared at me. What did a little boy like me do on the streets with an old violin?

But as I started to play, they snapped their heads toward me, surprised at how good I was. People enjoyed my music and I enjoyed the attention and money I got.

And then one day a little girl came. When I saw her while I was playing, I couldn't breathe. She looked mesmerizing and when she started dancing, I felt like my heart was going to explode. We became friends from that day, as music connected our souls. We were inseparable, we learned a lot of things from each other, we played around a lot, we fought, then laughed. She was the sun in my dark world, even though we were living in Sunrise Kingdom, even though we saw the sun rise two times a day, she was my sunrise. And as she died, there was no sun for me anymore to rise.

It was almost three years ago, since the King announced the miracle, that the doll comes to life if you play an instrument with passion. When I heard it, I finally felt a little hope crawl through my soul. What is it, if not destiny, when music was the thing that connected us? I was so happy I could bring her back; I was sure if I played for this doll on my violin, she was going to come back to me. I didn't even think about the fact it might not happen, because it seemed so obvious, that I was the one who needed to get her back.

But she did not come back, she didn't even move a little. I was so desperate to bring her back, but when she didn't move, I just got so disappointed, in myself, in music, and in the King for giving us hope. I felt so angry I just couldn't control my feelings and I broke my violin into pieces along with my heart. Music was the only thing that connected us, but she was not here and I just couldn't play anymore, so I just left the pieces of my violin in the old room where the doll's blue eyes just stared at me unmoving, and I left not even looking back.

It was the fifth anniversary of her death; I was heading to the Lake of Freedom. It was our place with Y/N. We always played, danced, and argued here, it was special to both of our hearts and we knew we would find the other here if it was needed. This was the reason I came here every year on the day she died. It felt like she was there with me like a piece of her stayed in this place not being able to move on.

The lake was especially beautiful today. It was surrounded by colourful trees, as autumn was near the corner. It was a mixture of red, orange, and brown colours, and the leaves fell right into the lake, like feathers, as life slowly died out of it. The dead leaf falls upon the Lake of Freedom, finding its way out from the prison that is hanging on a tree for an eternity flowing away just to drown in the dark depths of the lake.

This was how I exactly felt since she died, I just couldn't find happiness anymore in my life. What could I do when the light that kept me going was now gone? How is it possible to move on? When the darkness that calls me is more comforting than trying to find the light, it's easier to just be and drown the emptiness of my chest.

"Excuse me, boy, for interrupting your train of thought…" I heard a voice coming from behind as I was sitting on the rock that we called 'The Theater' with Y/N, which is the theater of our imaginations.

I turned towards the source of the voice and I spotted an old man, standing with a white sack hanging from his right shoulder, his face was wrinkled from the ages, his back humped from, I assumed, the constant carrying things, he seemed he was a wanderer, who had his whole life packed into a rusty and big sack.

"Yes? How can I help you, sir?" I answered kindly, showing him respect.

"Can I ask you a favor, boy?" He coughed while approaching me slowly.

"Of course!"

"You seem like someone who can play on a violin." He eyed me up and down, as I was wearing my worn-out white shirt, with some laces on it, paired with black pants and my worn-out shoes.

"I haven't been playing in years, and I do not plan to," I stated. There was just no point in it anymore.

"Can you make one last exception for me and my wife?" He asked, deep emotions like grief and resignation playing on his wrinkled face. He saw my confused look so he continued, "This is the place where my wife died." He stated as his eyes wandered away to the dark lake. "We were in our late twenties when we were here with my wife. We played around, chasing the other, laughing around. We felt free, just as the lake's name says. But soon it became the Lake of Suffering because suddenly all I saw was my wife running away from me as I was chasing her, she got so excited she didn't see where she was stepping, she fell, and instantly hit the back of her head…" The old man's eyes welled up with tears, "She fell into the lake and it was too late for me to save her, I was too far away."

My breath was stuck in my throat as I imagined the traumatic story the old man told me. It's interesting how a place where you feel free and yourself, becomes a torture, like a prison with no windows to the world, just the dark.

"My condolences, sir." I tilted my head down a little as a sign of my sympathy. We both lost someone special in our hearts.

"She loved to play the violin, she always looked so beautiful doing it. And her music…it was nothing compared to this world." The old man stared into the lake as he said, a little life burning in him as he remembered his wife playing the instrument.

"I would be glad to play for her." I couldn’t believe what I said, but for once it wasn't for me, or Y/N. It was for a man who lost his lover—well I wasn't far away from that as well.

The old man's eyes sparkled as I walked next to him, seeing the end of the violin peaking from his sack. He nodded as I reached my hands towards it at that, and took it into my hands. It felt nice holding a violin after years, it felt like a piece of life got back into me. And the violin looked so beautiful. The touch of it felt like it was made out of rosewood, painted with the color of gold. It had sharp features with the right gracefulness. I have never seen a violin this mesmerizing.

When I lifted it under my chin and started to play on the string of the violin with the bow, I instantly closed my eyes and with that, I closed the world out as well. I played the melody that I played on the day I met Y/N. And it felt like I jumped back in time to that day and lived it again like a miracle. I saw her face clearly as the melody flew out of my violin on the street. The way her eyes sparkled because of the joy she felt. It took me back to that time and my heart started to beat as fast as that day. I watched her dance gracefully, but as my music got wilder and louder, she danced towards me and suddenly she disappeared in the black fog.

I immediately opened my eyes and the black fog wasn't in the vision I saw, it was all around us, the lake completely invisible, and the old man was standing next to me staring into the darkness like something bewitched him. I wanted to stop playing, but he pointed toward the dark fog and said, 'Look, don't you dare stop!' without even glancing at me. I averted my gaze from the old man to the fog as I was still playing, the melody got a little deeper, and sadder when I saw something sparkle between the dark mist. It seemed like a butterfly but bigger and it was illuminated with something that did not belong to this realm. Then it started to dance towards me, fighting through the darkness as some hands tried to grab it, but they remained empty-handed as they fought through the demons and got closer to me. I just couldn't breathe when that thing was fully visible.

It was her.

The girl I was craving for, the girl I lost and never got back. The girl who visited me in my nightmares just to turn them into sweet dreams. There she was, the girl I loved with my whole heart.

But something was wrong. It wasn't her entirely. She was pale, her used-to-be red cheeks were now as white as a wall, her rosy lips were now blue like the sky, and her eyes did not spark with life. It was her soul, that was slowly drying out.

"Y/N!" I whispered through my lips as I was frozen in place, but my unconscious still kept playing on the violin, because I knew if I stopped, she was going to disappear for good.

"Oh, Yunho, dear, I knew you could save me from this torture…" I heard her weak voice as she flew closer to me, she looked exactly like a ghost as she reached her hands towards my warm cheeks. I didn't feel her touch and as I looked into her eyes, it was full of tears that flew down her pale cheeks and it never landed on the ground.

I was breathing quickly, my heart pounded in my chest, the blood in my veins racing through my body, catching on fire as so many emotions got back into me that I did not feel since she died.

"Listen old man! You have to hurry up to the castle and call the King! Tell him to bring the doll he made for his daughter to the lake! Tell him Yunho might know how to bring his daughter back…" I told the old man who was standing next to me in awe.

"Hurry up, we don't have time!" I yelled at the man, as I started to get impatient, I didn't know how much she could keep up, I didn't want to lose her again.

I was still playing, I didn't even notice what I was playing, my hands were hurting but I did not care because all I could focus on was the beautiful face in front of me.

"I am glad you finally found me, Yunho." She smiled at me but it wasn't real, it felt like she just wanted to make me believe everything was okay.

"I am sorry it took me so long, Y/N…" One teardrop escaped my eye as she immediately wanted to wipe it off, but still nothing.

"No, Yunho, I'm okay, everything will be okay…" She whispered as tears fell on her cheeks like a waterfall.

I just couldn't watch her struggle anymore I knew she was fighting between the real and the dead world, she just needed a hand to pull her back to our life.

So, I just dropped the violin as sudden silence fell on us all I was hearing was her screaming, "No! Yunho don't st—," She couldn’t finish the sentence because she disappeared.

My heart was in my ears I didn't hear anything as I looked down at my hands. I was grabbing onto something. "Come back to me…please," I whispered into the dark fog, that slowly started to disappear. I felt something hold onto my hands, and as I looked down a hand was interlaced with mine and slowly a body started to appear in front of me, that looked human-like, that belonged to this world.

It was her again. But her hands now felt warm, her big, blue eyes were sparkling with life, her cheeks were red and his lips were back to their natural rosy color. She came back to me and I couldn't believe my eyes, she was so mesmerizingly beautiful like she did not belong to this world. But I knew she did belong to this world, beside me.

When I saw him, it felt like it was just the usual nightmares that I had dreamt through the years. My nightmares were always about him playing peacefully, then dark hands grabbing him, just to drown him in the dark mist. But the hands never came, he was still there playing with his eyes closed and it felt like we jumped back in time when we first met at the street. The sweet scenario played in front of me when the real nightmare started.

The black hands appeared, but they wanted me, not Yunho. I would gladly sacrifice myself for him if it came to him living peacefully. The hands grabbed me, I got used to it, I didn't know how long I had been in between the worlds but it felt like an eternity, it felt like I was never going to escape from here, I couldn't even die, let alone live. It was torture being there, and seeing my loved ones feel sad because of me, seeing them give up on life just because I died. It was not fair, because I screamed for them to let me go and live instead of me. But they just never listened and they slowly gave in to the darkness. My father followed the same path as Yunho.

And it hurt, it felt like I didn't matter because I did not want this. I wanted them to move on, but they just couldn't and then I decided, no matter what, I was going to come back to the real world, even if I had to fight against my demons. It was a long way and I knew I could trust Yunho; he was my only hope in the dark world I existed in.

And when he looked at me with those big doe eyes. I knew it was worth all the struggle I went through, it was worth fighting with the dark hands that got me in a chokehold, they chained me to this world between the living and the dead, they were feeding from my memories, from my screams, from me. But now, I only needed my last power to leave the demons behind. They were clinging to my back when Yunho saw me, they were trying to pull me back to the dark, whispering that I could never go back, that I was a fool, but I fought against them and didn't let them bring me back.

 The melodies escaping from his violin started to feed me with power as I reached my hands towards his face that I starved to touch, but never got to touch. He looked at me like I was his whole world, his face looked tired but full of care like the little Yunho I got to know.

Then he suddenly disappeared and a black hand on my mouth pulled me back to the dark fog, and I got lost in it again, drowning in the feeling of void, the feeling of nothing. I wanted to scream but the hand did not pull away as it pulled me deeper and deeper into the dark sea, where more demons awaited.

But something anchored me to the real world because they were struggling to pull me deeper, a bunch of black hands were pulling me by my right hand, but something so strong was holding my left hand, that it almost broke me in half. The anchor that pulled my left hand was so much stronger as I felt more distance between the black hands and me, they tried to reach me, but it was too late because sudden light hit my eyes that blinded me and I felt something hit my chest with a power that was the last blow I needed to get back into the real world. 

Then I fell into two welcoming warm hands and I felt like after an eternity of struggling I was finally at home again, in between the hands of the boy I fell in love with the moment I saw him play the instrument with a passion that immediately fired my little heart, and that fire never seemed to burn out, even when I wasn't alive, the burning of my chest made me keep going, made me feel even though it was impossible in between the two worlds. I did feel, that something invisible connected me to the real world, which led me to Yunho's warm heart, where the same flame was burning in his chest.

"You finally came back to me." I heard his sweet voice, and as my heart started to beat impossibly fast, I felt like I might die again.

"I came back to you." Then I kissed him on his sweet lips because that was the last thing, I needed to feel alive after being in nothing but cold without any feelings.  I finally woke up from a never-ending dream just so I could keep dancing to his melodies. I needed him to feel alive because he brought me back to life, that was impossible in this world.

But as you can see nothing is impossible in the Sunrise Kingdom, miracles do exist—because the sun rises two times as well; just as I did.

-Ateez masterlist-

[munson-blurbs]

The ending was adorable 🥹 Everyone is going to ask for the proposal and the wedding and all that amazing stuff… but I really want to see the Disney trip and Wayne on Its a Small World 😂

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: The whole Munson clan embarks on their first trip to Disney World; as expected, it's filled with both magic and mayhem.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Also requested by @tvserie-s-world!

June 2002

The Munson chaos, as it turns out, is not limited to Hawkins. It tags along everywhere, including family vacations.

Especially family vacations.

“Babe, where’s the sunscreen?” “I wanna see Mickey!” “Ed, have you seen my hat?” “I’m hungry!”

Taking a deep breath, you toss Eddie the bottle of Coppertone, remind Harris that you actually had to get to the Magic Kingdom before seeing any of the characters, find Wayne’s ball cap in the bottom of his suitcase, and scrounge up a baggy of Cheerios for Hendrix. 

“Okay, are we ready to go?”

Your question is met with an emphatic chorus of yeses as the five of you leave the hotel room and make a beeline for the shuttle bus. 

Eddie tries to scoop Hendrix into his arms; try as he might, your two-year-old’s chubby legs just can’t carry him very far, very fast. He scrunches up his face and squirms out of Eddie’s grasp. 

“Wan’ walk!” Hendrix pouts, lower lip jutting out in sheer defiance. 

An exasperated sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “There’s gonna be a lot of walking later, buddy.” But he knows there’s no sense in arguing, and he settles for holding the boy’s hand. He’s heard tales of Disney meltdowns, but he was hoping to avoid one before the day even started. 

The Florida heat is no joke. It envelops you like a casing, and you’re grateful for the air conditioned bus. Everyone sits down, Hendrix on your lap, and you lean in to discuss the day’s plans. 

“So,” you begin, “I really want to get a picture of all of us in front of the castle. After that, we can split up. I know Harris wants to ride Space Mountain—”

“And Splash Mountain and Big Thunder,” he interjects, a seriousness in his eyes. As though you could have forgotten—all he’s talked about for weeks are those three rides. 

You nod in acknowledgment. “One thing at a time.” The reminder is gentle, a nudge to keep him focused on a single goal so he didn’t overwhelm himself. Turning back to the group, you continue the rundown. “Wayne, you’re fine taking Hendrix on a few rides by yourself?”

The older man grins. “Can’t wait to have that damn doll song stuck in my head.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie raise his hand. 

“Yes?”

“I’m actually gonna sit Space Mountain out,” he says, sheepishness seeping into his cheeks. “So I can go with Wayne and Hendrix, and then we can all meet up after.”

Harris looks at his father in bewilderment. “Dad, are you afraid?”

“N-No!” Eddie sputters, sighing when you shoot him a glare that tells him to be honest. “I mean, yeah, a little. But you and Mom should still go on it.”

“It’s just you and me, kiddo.” You smile at Harris and return to the task at hand. “And then we’ll all go on the Peter Pan ride together before we grab lunch.”

Everyone nods in agreement, though you know that actually executing the idea will be much more of a challenge. You take the win for now, climbing off of the bus with Hendrix in your arms with the rest of the family behind you.

A jovial melody surrounds you as you enter the Magic Kingdom, putting some extra pep in your step. You feel the excitement building; not just from the boys, but from the adults, too. Neither Eddie nor Wayne have been here before, and they’re just as eager to start the vacation.

Your breath hitches as you make your way down Main Street, U.S.A. and Cinderella Castle finally comes into view.

“I’ll be damned,” Wayne mutters under his breath, his voice breaking slightly. “Looks just like the movie.”

You reach out and take Eddie’s hand, squeezing it gently as the five of you take in the sight. Tears blur your vision, and you can only imagine that Eddie’s experiencing the same.

We did it. We’re at Disney World with our family.

You manage to stave off the tears long enough to ask a Cast Member to snap a photo with your disposable Kodak camera. 

“Say cheese!” The woman chirps with a smile of her own, and you all comply–even Wayne.

As soon as the shutter clicks, the usual pandemonium resumes. Harris is tugging on your hand and dragging you towards Tomorrowland. 

“Remember, Har,” you say, “we might have to wait in line for a while.” It’s a concept you thoroughly went over prior to the trip, but it never hurts to remind him.

Since you’d started out early, the queue isn’t terribly long; nothing that can’t be handled with a few rounds of I Spy. Before you know it, you’re boarding your tiny rocketship right behind Harris. The ten-year-old is practically bouncing out of his seat, and you’re more than grateful for the lap bar holding him in place.

Harris squeals with delight at each banked turn, even putting his hands in the air as he gets braver towards the end of the ride. Adrenaline buzzes through him when the ride comes to a stop, and he darts for the exit.

“Wait for me!” You call out, and he pauses until you get your very not ten-year-old body out of the cramped vehicle. It used to be a lot easier to stand up when you were his age, but you eventually catch up with Harris to head to Fantasyland.

What you find there is the last thing you would have imagined.

Eddie walks out of one of the myriad gift shops, with Hendrix in his arms and Wayne beside both of them. Your younger son has a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head, and one in his hands–for Harris, you assume–but what’s out of the ordinary is what the men are wearing.

“Oh…my…god!” You cackle, and Harris joins you when he sees his dad and grandpa wearing matching tall Goofy hats, the floppy ears swaying against their cheeks.

Eddie grins, doing a small spin that proves more difficult when carrying a two-year-old. “How do we look?” He asks.

Stifling further laughter, you shake your head. “Incredible.” When you reach him, you give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

“I think that says more about you than it does me, Sweetheart.”

Harris takes his souvenir from his little brother and slides the string under his chin. Both of them look absolutely precious, and you snap another picture before either can protest.

“Oh, one last thing.” Eddie reaches into a mouse-printed bag and pulls out a gold plastic tiara, covered in glitter with a photo of Belle in the center. He carefully places it atop your head and you secure it against your scalp. “There,” he murmurs, “pretty like a princess.”

A warmth settles into you that is unrelated to the humidity. You swear you could gaze into his eyes for an eternity, losing yourself in the hazel flecks that accentuated the chocolate irises—

“It’s Mickey!”

You follow where Hendrix is pointing; sure enough, the world’s most famous mouse was walking to a designated spot, flanked by an entourage of handlers. It’s the opposite direction of Peter Pan’s Flight, but you’re not about to compete with Mickey Mouse himself. 

Hendrix’s jubilation wanes as he gets closer to the character, chubby fingers digging into Eddie’s biceps. When he reaches the front of the line, he begins outright wailing, face buried in his dad’s shirt. 

Frowning, you try to peel him away. “Hendrix, it’s our turn!” You tell him, trying to rebuild the excitement with no success. “Don’t you wanna meet Mickey?”

“Too scary!” He sobs, his little body shaking with fear. 

You look at your husband, pushing away the urge to freeze up and throw a tantrum of your own. “Okay, I’ll take Hendrix; you and Wayne stay with Har—”

But Harris is faster, nudging between you and Eddie to place a hand on his brother’s back. “Hen, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna be right there with you.” He glances at Mickey, then back at Hendrix. “I know he’s a lot bigger than on TV, but he’s not going to hurt you.”

The crying subsides, save for a few hiccups. Hendrix sloppily wipes at his damp cheeks and holds his arms out so Harris can take him. They walk hand-in-hand, the youngest Munson glued to his big brother’s side. 

Harris waves at Mickey, imploring Hendrix to do the same. He obliges, albeit timidly, but there’s no mistaking the joyful giggle that escapes him when Mickey returns the gesture. 

Eddie laces his fingers with yours, metal rings warm from the summer sun. “Can you get a picture of this?” You nod and reluctantly let go of him, forever capturing the moment with the click of a button. 

The rest of the day is spent waiting in line, riding attractions with colorful scenery, scarfing down Mickey-shaped food items, and taking a much-needed midday nap at the hotel. The sleep recharges you enough to head back out to the park after dinner.

The sun begins to set, though the temperature barely drops a single degree. Your group finds a bench right outside Liberty Square. Wayne sits with Hendrix on his lap, Eddie next to him, and you take a seat at the end. Harris stays standing, leaning against the wooden back only to help him get his jumps out. 

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” A cheerful disembodied voice comes over the park’s sound system. “Our fireworks presentation, Fantasy in the Sky, is about to begin. Thank you!”

You dig in your bag and pull out some wax earplugs for Harris. Hendrix extends his hand for his own pair, always wanting to be just like his big brother. 

Fireworks light up the sky, bright pink and blue and green hues that leave wispy trails of smoke in their wake. Harris keeps his fingers pressed to his ears to block out any additional noise, but it doesn’t detract from the smile on his face. 

Perhaps the only person more enamored with the show is Wayne. The lights illuminate his awe-struck face, mouth agape, as though he’s in disbelief of the magic surrounding him. 

Eddie leans down to kiss your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Havin’ a good time, Sweetheart?” he mumbles against your skin. 

You nod, looking up and pressing your lips to his cheek. “Are you?”

He takes in the sight of his sons and his uncle, together in a place he’s only ever dreamed of visiting. And he has you by his side; more than that, you are the reason he’s here at all. 

“I’ve never been happier.”

--

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Eighteen

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some dark stuff pertaining to an abusive past relationship, attempted murder, and vague details of a car crash. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.4k

A/N : Set about a week after the last one! I'm honestly a little nervous about this chapter, I hope you like it! As always thanks so much for reading!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Chapter Eighteen

The whole world came crashing down around you in a single moment. 

You didn’t realise until it was too late to stop it, until it was too late to change anything and avoid the inevitable consequences.

The private investigator took the envelope full of cash before sliding the file across the table to you, sparing you one last glance and a couple of words of warning before climbing out of the booth and heading towards the exit. Your gaze followed him out of the diner and onto the street, where he walked past -

Your heart stopped.

Frank.

He had his phone out, pointing right at you through the diner window, a mix of betrayal and disappointment on his face. It took a moment to figure out what was happening, for the penny to finally drop, but when it did, you felt your entire body fill with panic; he thought you were the security threat, the person who’d been digging into anvil over the last couple of months. 

Your heart started to race, knowing that he was going to tell Billy what he thought he’d seen, that he’d seen you paying off the PI who’d been snooping around Anvil. You scrambled out of the booth, almost tripping over your own feet, desperate to get to Frank and fix the situation before it spiralled out of control.

But he was already on the phone by the time you got outside. You kept the file clutched to your chest, holding it against you like a shield as you approached the imposing figure of Frank Castle, stomach knotting as you heard him speak.

“Yeah, Bill, I’ll deal with it,” his eyes fixed on you as you stopped in front of him. 

You waited in silence, for a moment thinking you could just about hear Billy’s voice on the other end of the phone before Frank hung up and dropped his phone into his pocket.

“I’m gonna need you to give me that,” Frank said, holding out his hand, expecting you to hand the file over. 

“I can’t.” Because, despite everything that was happening, you knew one thing for sure; you couldn’t let anyone see the file, couldn’t let them know about your past.

“Y’know, the crazy thing is that I thought Bill was gonna be the one to break your heart, not the other way around,” Frank shook his head.

“You don’t understand -”

“Pretty sure I do,” he interrupted, not willing to listen to your explanations, “you’ve had your PI lookin’ into Anvil and Bill for weeks now, so give it up.”

“No, that’s not -” but you could already tell that he wasn’t going to listen to you, that he’d made up his mind. “I need to see Billy, I have to explain this to him.”

“That’s great ‘cause he’s already waiting at Anvil for you.”

You stared at him for a moment before realising that you had a choice to make - he couldn’t very well bundle you into his car in broad daylight, but you were aware how bad it would look for you if you refused to go with him. You’d just given up every single dollar to your name for the file in your hand and, now, you needed to make sure that it hadn’t all been for nothing.

“Okay,” you relented, “take me to Billy.”

Frank gave a grunt and nodded towards his truck. You followed after him, climbing into the passenger seat and keeping your eyes fixed forward. Once he’d started the engine, you reached for your phone, hastily typing up a message to Karen, wanting to try and explain what was going on before Frank told her.

“Who you texting?” Frank asked suddenly, taking his eyes off the road.

“Karen, I -” he snatched your phone before you could finish, your thumb managing to hit send on the half finished message as he pulled it away from you. “What the fuck?”

“You’re not draggin’ Karen into this shit,” he told you, his eyes returning to the road just in time to keep from running a red light - a sharp stop that caused your anxiety to spike even more, reminding you of the accident years ago. You were so distracted that you only caught the last half of what Frank was saying, “- when Bill’s done with you.”

You didn’t argue, didn’t ask him to repeat himself. You just wanted him to concentrate on the road. So, you remained silent, clutching the file to your chest and watching out the windscreen. The way he drove across the city made your heart race and your chest tighten, practically jumping out of your skin with every screech of brakes or honk of a horn.

And, when you reached Anvil some fifteen minutes later, you were quick to scramble out of the truck, almost gasping for breath.

He gave another grunt, indicating that you should follow him and, stupidly, you did just that. You didn’t realise that anything was wrong until you were in the elevator and realised that you were being taken down to the basement level instead of up to Billy’s office.

“Why aren’t we going to Billy’s office?” You asked, dread already starting to coil in your stomach.

“Bill doesn’t want you in his office,” Frank answered as the doors slid open, revealing a cold and terrifying looking corridor.

“I want my phone back.” You told him, unable to stop the fear from filling your tone.

“Told you, you can have it back when Bill’s done with you,” he motioned for you to start moving and, with no other option, you did.

When the elevator doors slid shut, your thoughts started to spiral to dark places you didn’t want them to go, to memories of feeling trapped and powerless. A lump rose in your throat and tears were already starting to sting your eyes as your footsteps echoed down the long hallway. When Frank stopped and opened a door, you let him usher you inside before you realised your mistake.

The door closed behind you, leaving you trapped and alone in what appeared to be an interrogation room. Had your state of mind been better, you might have realised that the room was used for training new recruits and conducting interviews but, since you were panicking, all you could think was that you were going to be trapped there until you confessed to all of the things you hadn’t done.

You turned back to the door quickly, pulling at the handle. You weren’t surprised to find it locked, but it did nothing to stop the panic that was raging inside of you.

The room had a long metal table and two chairs, one on either side, but you didn’t move to sit. You couldn’t move at all, terror had you rooted in place, your fingers still tightly gripping the file against your chest. There was a camera blinking in the corner of the room and you felt your stomach drop; was Billy watching you right now, could he see the terror on your face? (And, if he could, why wasn’t he coming to help you?)

Minutes passed before Billy stepped into the room. You stayed frozen as he stepped around you and you waited - you waited for him to tell you that this was all some big mistake, that he knew you’d never do the things Frank had accused you of. But it never came. As he took a seat, your eyes closed tight, silently willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare.

Another minute passed in total silence, like he was waiting for you to speak first and dig your own grave, but you couldn’t even look at him, much less form the words you needed to explain all of this to him.

“Just give me the file,” he finally said.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, eyes still closed tight.

“Who are you working for?” There was something cold in his voice, something broken and full of pain and, despite everything he was putting you thought, some part of you longed to comfort him.

“No one, I’m not -”

“Don’t lie to me!” The sound of his open palm hitting the surface of the table caused you to flinch, your eyes opening as you took a step back and pressed yourself against the wall, needing to put as much distance between you and Billy as possible. “You paid someone to look into Anvil, into me.”

“No, that’s not what happened! You don’t understand -”

“What were you after; finances? Mission details? How much were you getting paid?” His tone got sharper with every word.

“I wasn’t after anything, that’s not what this is. It’s not about Anvil -” you tried desperately still, somehow, holding onto some small glimmer of hope that you could fix things before they got too broken.

 “Bullshit!”

“Please, Billy,” you struggled to find the words in your panic, “you promised that you’d trust me, that you’d -”

“I did trust you!”

His use of the past tense caused something to break inside of you, and you felt a sort of pain that you hadn’t felt in years, the sort of pain that could only be inflicted by someone you loved.

“Stop, please, Billy just -” you tried again, blinking back tears.

Everything was falling apart around you, the future you’d let yourself hope for was slipping away; you were going to move in with him, you were going to go work for The Bulletin, and you were finally going to start rebuilding your life after so many years of just existing and scraping a living. All your dreams were dying all at once, all because he wouldn’t listen to you, because he couldn’t trust you.

Some part of you knew that if you could just find the words, you’d be able to make him understand, but your panicked, racing mind couldn’t focus enough to say or do anything to help fix things.

“How long?” He asked coldly, ignoring your tears. “How long have you been lying to me, using me?”

“I wasn’t lying! Why won’t you listen to me? Why can’t you trust me?” You heard yourself begging desperately.

“Because you’ve been lying to me for months!” His voice got louder, sharper, and you no longer recognised the man in front of you. This wasn’t your Billy, this was someone else entirely. “You know, you really had me fooled, pretending to be this wounded little thing, acting like you wanted me, like we had something.”

“It wasn’t an act!” You managed to raise your voice to match him, desperate to make him listen, to convince him that you still cared, but Billy didn’t even seem to hear it. “Please, just - just let me explain. I can explain this.”

“Explain what? That none of this was real? That you tricked me into wanting you so you could get close enough to stab me in the back? Did you get paid extra to fuck me or was jumping into my bed just part of the game for you?” You could still hear the pain in his tone, but the moment Billy said those words to you, something inside of you snapped.

Your stomach continued to tie itself in knots. You hated every little thing about this, hated how he thought you were as bad as all of the other people who had used him and lied to him to get what they wanted. But your pain quickly started to turn to anger - he wasn’t the only one who’d ever been hurt, he wasn’t the only one who’d been lied to and used. As hurt as Billy obviously was by this whole situation, he’d broken his promises to you; he wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t hear you out, wouldn’t trust you.

You were being blamed for something you hadn’t done and you were going to lose everything because of it. Again.

“You think I jumped into bed with you?” Your tone turned sharper, colder, and more certain - because, in all of this, if you were certain of one thing, it was that you did not just jump into bed with him. Finally you had his attention, just in time for you to tell him; “falling in love with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Billy. And you’ve just managed to prove why it was such a stupid idea.”

It was the first time you’d dared utter that you loved him aloud, but you were no longer scared of how he was going to react to the revelation or how vulnerable it would make you feel. It was too late to care about any of that. You’d come to Anvil hoping to save things with Billy but that dream was now over. 

And, for the first time since all of this began, you realised that the truth of your past couldn’t hurt you anymore. It didn’t matter if Billy knew because he’d already given up on you, whatever was between you was over now, and everything you’d done to try and preserve it had been for nothing.

“Fine,” you relented, forcing yourself to step away from the wall and towards the table. Once you were close enough you slammed the file down in front of him so hard that its contents spilled out across the table; photographs of you, notes about your work, your friends and your finances. 

Billy’s eyes dropped, quickly looking over it, starting to move things, rummaging through the paperwork, trying to make sense of it.

“It was never about you or Anvil. He was looking for me. And I just spent every penny I had paying him off so I wouldn’t have to leave New York, so I wouldn’t have to leave you. But I guess the jokes on me, because you don’t even care enough to keep your promises to me and just listen for five fucking minutes.” By the time you’d finished, you had to cover your mouth to try and suppress the sobs that were desperate to escape you.

Billy stayed silent, rifling through the pages and photographs in front of him, seeming to become more frantic with every passing second as he looked for something, anything, to prove that he hadn’t just destroyed your relationship for nothing.

You watched him for a second, knowing exactly what he’d find in the file, and knowing the questions he’d inevitably have for you when he found the details of your sister's death, and the car crash that had left you scarred. But it was too late for any of that now, he’d lost any right to ask anything about your past.

Moving back to the door, you gave the handle a sharp tug, even though you were pretty certain that the door was still locked.

“Wait -” his broken tone caused you to bristle. Where once you would have felt compassion, you now only felt anger.

“Let me out.”

“I don’t understand,” he told you, as he got to his feet and started to move towards you, his expression one of confusion instead of anger. You held up a hand, wanting him to keep his distance and Billy stopped. In his hand he was holding a copy of the photograph that he’d seen on your bedside table all those weeks ago, the photo of you and your siblings as children. “Please, help me understand this. I want to understand.”

“Which part, Billy? The part where you refused to listen, when you wouldn’t hear me out, when you wouldn’t trust me like you promised?” A hand scrubbed at your cheek, desperately trying to wipe away your tears, not wanting him to see just how much he’d wounded you. “Or the part where you thought so little of me that you thought I was fucking you just to get information on your company?”

“I didn’t know, I -”

“You wouldn’t let me explain!” You yelled and it was Billy’s turn to flinch at your tone. “I gave up everything I had to get that file, and now it doesn’t even matter. None of this matters anymore.”

“It matters, it -” he tried, obviously struggling for words, “- why didn’t you tell me?

“Why didn’t you believe me?” you threw back at him. ”Why is it so hard for you to trust me? Do you even trust anyone?”

“I’m sorry, I never -”

“Just - just stop. It’s too late.” You shook your head. It hurt too much and every word, every plea that left him only made the ache in your chest feel worse. “You promised me that you’d listen. I trusted you and you ruined it. You’ve ruined us.” 

“No... don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.” His voice continued to crack and break, and it was almost enough to make you want to back down, but you knew you couldn’t. Not after this. He’d broken his promise to you and left you feeling more wounded and alone than you’d ever felt. “I’m sorry, let me fix this, sweetheart, please.”

“Fix this?” You almost managed to laugh through the tears. “There is no fixing this, Billy. You’ve ruined it. You broke my heart.”

“No, no... please, I -” for a moment he looked at you like those three little words were on the tip of his tongue, like he was ready to confess his love, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Just stop. You don’t get to fight for me, Billy. Not now. Not after this.” You told him angrily. “I told you I couldn’t do this if you didn’t trust me.”

“You said you fell in love with me,” the words came out so softly that you almost didn’t hear them.

You could see the thinly masked distress on his face, the pain and misery that you’d managed to cause with that one, silly admission. You hated yourself for blurting it out like that, like you were some character in a soap opera or some shitty romance novel. And, if he’d been anyone else, you might have been angrier at his obliviousness to your feelings - of course you’d fallen in love with him, it had been so fucking obvious - but Billy had always been honest with you; he didn’t know love, didn’t understand it. All the people who were supposed to love him and abandoned him.

But not you. That was not what this was. You weren’t abandoning him, he’s pushed you to breaking point. This time it was Billy’s fault.

“What did you think was gonna happen?” You dared to ask, not even bothering to try and hide your pain anymore. “I’m not like you, Billy, I can’t just turn off my emotions whenever things get difficult.”

“You love me?” He took a step closer, the look on his face suggesting that he still thought that there was some way that he could fix things.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me, please, I -”

The door opened and, before he could finish that thought, you were rushing back out into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between yourself and Billy as possible. He followed after, your name dying on his lips when he saw Karen and Frank standing there.

“Sorry, Bill, she -” Frank started, looking at Karen who was now holding your phone.

“You’re both assholes,” she stated and neither man dared argue with her. Obviously, thankfully, she’d managed to figure out what was going on and where you were just from the half of a text message that you’d managed to send before Frank had confiscated your phone. 

Her arm quickly pulled around your shoulders and she started to lead you towards the elevator while you tried to choke back tears. You didn’t dare look back until you were in the elevator; Billy looked heartbroken, following after you but keeping his distance.

“Please, I -” he tried.

“You’ve done enough, Billy. Just leave her alone.” Karen snapped as the doors slid shut and, a moment later, the floodgates opened and you started to sob uncontrollably, knowing that you’d lost everything.

TWO HOURS EARLIER.

Your heart was racing, thumping out a painful and uneven beat in your chest.

When Karen had told you that a private investigator had been asking around about you at The Bulletin, you’d put things together pretty quickly. You had her set up a meeting later that morning for you, hoping that you could fix things before they got out of control, even though your every instinct told you to pack a bag and get out of New York as quickly as you could.

You didn’t want to have to run, you didn’t want to leave the life that you were starting to build in the city. You didn’t want to leave the man that you loved.

Before heading to the diner to meet the PI, you stopped at the bank, withdrawing every penny that had, hoping that it would be enough, hoping that you could pay him off and fix everything before things spun out of control.

He was already waiting in the diner when you arrived, sitting in a booth by the window; a grizzled looking guy, well into his forties, who’d obviously been in the PI game for decades. As you slid into the seat opposite him, you felt your guts start to twist with a mix of anxiety and fear.

“If I’d known that this was the quickest way to get you out of hiding, I’d’ve done it weeks ago,” he stated before you’d even gotten comfortable. “I take it you wanted to meet to make me an offer?”

You took a breath, trying to steady your still-racing heart. “How much would it cost for you to go back to Florida and pretend you couldn’t find me?”

He almost seemed shocked that you knew where he was from for a second, but it was quickly hidden behind a lazy sort of smile.

“More than you’ve got,” he stated and your heart sank. “I’m a little surprised that you don’t seem surprised by any of this.”

“I’m not,” you offered, already feeling like you were wasting your time. “I knew it was only a matter of time before Scott started looking for me. Did he tell you why - did he tell you why he wants to find me?”

“No, and I didn’t bother to ask - usually don’t when the money’s this good.” He shrugged before sitting forward in his seat. “Go on then; what’d you do to this guy? I figured you either broke his heart or you took something of his. Must’ve been something big for you to spend these last few years running all up and down the country.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you voice cracked at how helpless you suddenly felt, “He tried to kill me, and that’s probably why he wants me back.”

That seemed to unsettle the PI and you decided to use it to your advantage.

“I take it you know about the accident?” You asked and the PI gave an awkward sort of nod, not knowing what point you were going to try to make. “It wasn’t an accident, he deliberately swerved the car off the road because I’d finally told him that I was leaving him.” Your voice continued to crack, threatening to break. “He pulled himself out of the car and left me there to die. I had to crawl through fire and broken glass to save myself,” you rolled up your sleeve, letting him see the scars, along with the sickening S that Scott had carved into your skin. “That’s why he wants to know where I am. He wants to finish the job.”

The PI let out a slow exhale and it was more than obvious from the way he shifted in his seat that he hadn’t been expecting that story, that he’d been lied to and used by Scott.

A trembling hand wiped at your eye, you were determined not to cry despite everything you’d just been forced to reveal.

“Look, I feel for you, but this is a big payday and -”

You reached into your purse and quickly placed the envelope on the table between you.

“That’s everything I have,” you told him, sniffing back tears, “you can have it all, just - please, give me the file and don’t tell him I’m here. I just want to be able to live my life. I don’t want to have to start over again.”

“You’d leave that rich boyfriend of yours?” He asked, like he almost didn’t believe what you were trying to tell him.

“If I had to. But I don’t want to. Scott has already stolen years of my life, please don’t help him take more. There’s just over fifteen grand in that envelope, I know it’s not a lot but -”

Your heart threatened to stop as he picked up the envelope and started thumbing through the stack of notes inside.

“This is everything you’ve got,” he stated with the certainty of someone who’d looked into your accounts. “You’re willing to give up everything just to make sure this guy doesn’t find you?”

“Yes...”

The moment that followed seemed to linger for an eternity; him looking at you like he was trying to decide what to do, while you stared back, silently praying to any god that might listen to you. 

There was no holding back the relieved sob that slipped from you when he finally put the envelope in his pocket and slid the file across the table to you.

“I’ll tell him I lost track of you after the six months you spent in Chicago.”

“Thank you.

He gave something of a grumble as he started to pull his coat on and got to his feet, ready to walk away, but something made him stop. “Y’know, that boyfriend of yours isn’t as squeaky clean as you think. I’d be careful if I were you - and, maybe, you should ask him where his mother is.”

He didn’t give you the chance to ask what he meant, before he turned and left the diner, your gaze following him out the door and onto the street, watching as walked right past Frank Castle, who was holding his phone and photographing the entire exchange. 

Chapter Nineteen

END NOTES : Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ok so this is probably the chapter than I've been most nervous about so I hope people enjoy the drama and angst! I know this probably wasn't what people were expecting from this chapter, but I won't say too much because I don't want to spoil anything for future chapters.

As always thanks so much for reading and sticking with this, it really does mean the world to me!

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[countrymusiclover]

4 - We Have A Thing For Knights Don’t We?

Part 5

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

Mature content in this part 18+ and up

“Vaella. Come sit with me dear girl.” My mother opened her arms waving me over to the window that she sat near in her rocking chair. Normally my brother Viserys was in the room with her but a lady in waiting had put him down for a nap with a guard outside his room.

Rounding my way past her bed I sat down in the chair across from her, recalling the gown she wore was a simple gray one with her long hair flowing down her shoulders. “I wish father would allow you to move about the castle or at the very least not have a guard posted at your door.”

“I'm afraid I wished many things throughout my life. But I don't regret being a mother to you and your brothers.” She admitted to me resting a hand on her stomach.

Letting my curiosity get the better of me I ignored the presence of the guards on the other side of the door. “What’s one of the things you’d wish you’d done?”

“There was this one knight that I loved very deeply. His name was Bonifer Hasty from the Stormlands. But he was poor and wasn’t acceptable for a princess like me. And it wasn’t like your father and I had any choice of saying no to our arrangement.”

Putting my hands in my lap I sighed praying the same wouldn’t happen to me. “Hopefully that won’t happen for me.” Running my fingers through my hair I bite my lip gazing towards the window.

“I know that look. Who’s the man you want to sleep with?”

I gasped feeling my face turning bright red. “Mother!”

“It’s the same look I had. So who’s the lucky man to charm you, dear daughter?” My mother Rhaella sent me a look waiting for an answer.

I giggled leaning forward and she leaned closer, sensing I didn’t want the guards outside to hear what I was about to tell her. “It’s a knight in fathers Kingsguard. I - I hadn’t realized it until very recently when he confronted Ser Darry when he brought me to be with you. How he stood up to him worried about me and not about what could happen to him.”

“And what is this knight's name?” She asked me.

I smiled brightly at her. “Jaime Lannister.”

“Oh I see. His mother was a dear friend to me. Have you told him how you feel yet?”

I cut myself short from answering her question scrambling to my feet and out of her chambers in search of him. My mothers rare laughter could be heard behind me before I had exited her chambers. That was one of the only times I had seen her so happy ever in my whole life. “It couldn’t happen mother. He won’t forsake his vows for me. Why should I tell him when - oh my gosh I know why I need to tell him. It’s because I love him - Jaime!”

“Vaella?” I watched Jaime enter my room at the tavern while I kept my body hidden in the corner giving the power to slam the door and announce my presence, making him nearly jump up in the air. “You scared the living shit out of me.”

“What were you thinking when you attacked Ned Stark in the streets a few weeks ago hmm?” Was the first thing that came out of my mouth rather than greeting him with a smile or a hug like I normally do.

He sent me a confused expression. “What are you talking about? How do you even know about it?”

“I saw you. I had to give out alcohol seller the money and when I was on my way back I watched your confrontation.” I slowly stride up to him, hands clenched into fists at my sides. “Issi ao trying naejot rhaenagon nykeā vīlībāzma naejot jiōragon aōha lēkia arlī.” - ( Are you trying to start a war to get your brother back )

“What did you say?” Jaime knitted his brows.

I snarled towards him, feeling tears welling in my eyes. “Seven hells I wish you spoke Valyrian to know when I am cursing you out! I miss my brothers, damn it. I miss Rhaegar and Viserys. And now I struggle to watch you everyday spend time with Tyrion, even though I adore your brother It still hurts me.”

“Vaella-”. Jaime trailed off with a sympathetic tone.

Throwing my hands up into my hair I began pacing trying to not start bawling my eyes out thinking about all I had lost. “There’s nothing I can do. I was a prisoner in my own house but this was worse than that life ever was. Because now I'm alone. My parents are dead, my brothers, my unborn sister are all gone. I'm all alone now!”

“No you're not alone.’

I sniffed through tears looking back at him. “You're right - I have you. You told me you're not going anywhere.”

“That isn’t entirely true for long, I'm afraid.”

Eyeing him I nervously ask. “What’s going on, Jaime?”

“Many bad things I'm afraid…” He slumped down on the bed waiting before he began explaining. “Robert is dead and Joffrey sits on his throne now. Ned Stark’s eldest son has declared war for Joffrey putting his father in a prison cell. And because I'm in the Kingsguard I have to go fight against the Stark’s.”

“I don't want you to leave.” My voice broke hearing his last words.

He fought back. “It's not a choice. Joffrey has demanded I ride North to fight.”

“You promised me that we would be together. That nothing and no one would tear us apart!”

He rose up from the bed wrapping his arms around my waist pulling me against his chest. “If i don't go, Joffrey will put my head on a spike. I know you’re terrified but this is what has to happen.”

“B-but I…Swear it to me.” I gulped gripping the front of his tunic in my fingers.

His green orbs meet my purple eyes. “Swear what, Vaella?” We both knew that he had never broken a vow to me even if he had broken one to his former king.

“Swear that you will do everything you can to come home. Swear that you will come back to me no matter what happens.”

Jaime rested his forehead down onto mine vowing to me before we shared a deep kiss. “I swear I will come back to you, Princess Vaella Targaryen.” Leaning up on my toes i yanked the collar of his tunic deepening the kiss to terrified to break away from him, not wanting to let him go until he absolutely had to.

I let out a yelp when he lifted me into his arms, I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my lips against his. He kissed me back passionately and we stumbled towards the bed and dropped me down on it. My back hit the soft silk sheets before I rose up from the bed staring at him softly and brought a hand to his cheek stroking it softly.

He lifted his tunic over his head and threw it to the ground. My heart began to beat for a second as I stared at him, my eyes directed down to his muscular chest, and blushed at the sight. I averted my eyes with my hands covering them quickly and tried to contain my blush, he looked up at me and smirked at my reaction. "See something you like, hmm?”

"A woman’s flower is the most important thing so I’m sorry I’m not familiar with sex." I pointed out to him when I peeked through my fingers for a split second.

"Vaella, we don’t have to do this." He reassured me, grabbing my hand with his. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to."

"No, I want to do this." I said, wishing my heart would stop beating so rapidly like I was scared.

He took a seat beside her on the bed scanning over her face as if looking for a sign that she wanted to back out finding none. "Don’t worry, princess.”

"Do you want me to kick you in your cock?" I challenged, eyeing him.

He shakes his head no in defense of my threat. “Seven hells no.”

“Then don’t use my title as a nickname.” I sniped back.

Jaime smirked, leaning down and cupped my face, pressing his lips on mine. “That would be against my nature, princess. Besides, you secretly love it.”

My hands started to trace his form, I began to run his fingers up and down his muscular chest softly while I began to feel his hand start to crawl underneath my gown. He yanked the fabric off my head, throwing it to the ground only once. "A dragon and a lion who would’ve thought.”

"My father would be furious if he saw us like this.” I laughed seeing how my eyes were trailing him.

Jaime muttered, sending me a smile. “Good thing your mother liked me.”

He pushed me down to the bed gently, towering over me. He grabbed onto one of my breasts and began to massage it gently before leaning down, lowering his lips down to one of my nipples and starting to suck on it. I began to whimper in pleasure asis felt his lips on me, he tugged on it with his teeth gently before switching breasts and doing the same thing.

He stood up from the bed and unbuttoned his trousers, tugging them down to his legs before stepping out of them wearing nothing but his boxers. He teared his boxers in a split second, releasing his member. My eyes widened at how big It was and wondered how that would fit inside me.

He knelt down in front of my legs and opened my legs up a bit, he ran his hands up my legs. "Jaime, I-"

"Do you trust me? " He asked, glancing up at me.

"With all my heart.” I replied struggling to catch my breath knowing that my heart was racing a mile a minute .

He hovered over me and brought his lips down upon mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and embraced more into the kiss. I felt a hard rock positioned at my lower religion, he placed his member at my center and looked up at me. "Are you sure you really want this?"

"I want you." I said, gripping the bed sheets in my fingers, never moving my gaze from his. " Please just go gently."

He nodded and aligned himself against me before thrusting into me softly , I hissed out in pain as I felt him breaking through my wall, tears began to well in my eyes." You feel soo good, Vaella." He moved slowly against her, I bit down on my lip hard trying to bear through the pain.

Within moments I felt the pain suddenly vanish and began to feel pleasure. I began to move against him and leaned up pressing my lips down upon his. He embraces me back instantly when my fingers dug into his back. He ran his body over every inch of my body he could reach, both of us slick with sweat as he moved against one another, our pants and moans filling the room. He leaned up on his knees and began to thrust hitting a certain spot inside of her.

“Jaime ! " I moaned out as his thrust became hard and fast, my boobs began to bounce up and down from the impact

I came moaning out loudly as I felt a wave of pleasure come over me. He came seconds later as I felt him emptying inside of med, both moaning and groaning while they did. He removed from her before laying down beside her trying to catch his breath alongside her. "Vaella, I’m sorry."

Rolling over onto his chest I eased his worries with a kiss. "I...I'm good, just exhausted." I felt my eyes struggling to stay open until I rolled over onto my side placing my head in the crook of his neck with us both falling asleep.

[mvsicinthedvrk]

hwevent18 starter for xiao chiye & shen zechuan // @masqce

Nobles at court betray each other more often than Meng loses feathers; that is to say, far more often than one might either guess or care about. If Chiye was seriously concerned every time he heard rumors of a minor plot brewing, he’d never find half-a-moment’s rest. But when the purported risk concerns the state of the whole kingdom’s security and peace, that’s another story, and any lead is worth following up on. If they have to go to war over some noble’s (likely selfish) nonsense, it could affect not only his livelihood here but also Chiye’s homeland; Libei is such a far distance away that it would take a war of massive scale to reach its snowy plains, but one can never know how one kingdom’s misfortune could affect another’s.

Which is what’s led him here— to one of the neighborhoods far from the shadow of the castle, crammed with the small homes of peasants and commoners. Merchants from along the main commercial street have just begun to close up shop and head home for the evening, and the daytime bustle of the narrow roads in this section of town has begun to slow. He’s not entirely certain what he’s looking for, only that one suspicious noble has been seen in this part of town repeatedly; though for what reason, no reports have shown. So he keeps his eyes peeled. After all, no one would expect the tall knight-- currently in plainclothes-- to be in this part of town either, so at least in this he has the element of surprise.

Eventually he does catch sight of the other, and Chiye keeps track of the head of hair as he follows by foot at a fair distance behind and as they wind down the road. Though after a few minutes, another familiar sight catches his eye as well— Shen Zechuan’s graceful figure headed the very same way. If he stopped to talk to the noble who Chiye’s been tracking, that would be damning evidence against both in his eyes, but as it stands, they don’t seem to interact, simply continue to move in the same direction... All the way until the noble steps through the doorframe of one poorly-constructed home, and Zechuan opens a door just a few down from it.

Interesting. Chiye waits until both doors have shut tightly, before stepping forward to Shen Zechuan’s and giving it a light rap. Considering their typical interactions, he’s not naive enough to think that the other man will be voluntarily helpful, and if the situation weren’t so (potentially) dire, he wouldn’t bother even trying, but— if Zechuan has seen the noble around these parts before, or could tell him who the name of the neighbor is who must live in the home that had just been entered, then that information could be very useful. “Official business. Let me inside,” he murmurs intently, his volume quiet enough that ideally no one in the shoddy building down the road will catch his voice on the breeze.

[tc-doherty]

Book One | Chapter Fourteen

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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The maids escorted Patrice down to the market the next day. Patrice had never seen anything like it. A whole part of the city was used for nothing but shop after shop after shop. Each type of good had its own street. The main streets branched off a circular plaza in the very middle, and the smaller streets of more specialized goods branched off from there.

All of it was laid out to be the most convenient for shoppers, and for the artisans who sold goods there. They entered the market through Iron Street, which on one side branched out into Silver Street, Gold Street, and the other metalworkers, which in turn led into Jeweler Street. On the other side, Iron Street branched off into weapon and armor makers.

"How is this possible?" Patrice asked. "It's so well-planned!"

She could not help but compare it to what she remembered of Dragon's Keep. The castle wasn't the only thing there, there had clearly been a city at one point too. While she couldn't say for sure which parts may have been residential and which parts might have been shops or restaurants, Patrice had played on those grounds all her life and not one section of it was as organized as this. That was a lot more like a maze, with streets and buildings placed haphazardly wherever there was room.

"That's because New Iber isn't a natural city," Maria said. "It was founded by those who fled the old kingdom. By all accounts the capital of Iberia was a disgrace of a city, and so those who fled here decided they would not repeat their ancestors’ designs."

"We take a lot of pride in our city, and our civil engineers," said Elaine. "We've conveniences that Juskans and Serzeks can't even dream of."

Anna said, "As impressive as it is, we're here for a reason. The animal sellers are that way."

Despite the crowded nature of the market, Patrice found the trip much more comfortable than her time so far at the palace. Dressed in a simple kirtle with minimal jewelry, she perfectly matched much of the fashion around her, save for that she still was not wearing a veil or headdress. Her hair was pulled back in a simple braid. But she wasn't the only one. Many foreigners came to the markets here, and some of them were almost as dark of skin and hair as Patrice. In fact, some were even darker. And all of them had different fashions. Finally, she was in a place where almost no one stopped to stare at her.

Once they reached the animal market, things changed.

Dogs, even as she had predicted, didn't like Patrice at all. They got one good whiff of dragon and backed off to the farthest corner of their cages, hackles up and teeth showing. The maids were not discouraged. After all, they told her, dogs were not the only guard animals available. In fact, they weren't even the most common, or the cheapest. They swept past the shops that primarily sold dogs and moved farther down the street.

As the gaggle of women made its way through the market, Patrice heard all about guard geese and hens – favored by the poorest of peasants, of pigs, and of the guard goat that Elaine's cousin's husband's sister had trained.

The maids didn't want to settle for any of those. Prey animals, much like dogs, didn't like Patrice. And geese, Anna explained, tended to be both messy and bad tempered. Not the sort of animal one would choose to live in a suite with them.

But there were other options. For instance, the great hunting cats which thrived in the more remote parts of Runeria. Like wolves, the cats had been bred down over the years. Like wolves, the cats were pack animals. Like dogs, the cats tended to be loyal to their owners, and protective of their 'family'. Although, as Maria explained, they could be rather obstinate and sometimes difficult to train.

Their most important quality, however, was the fact that they seemingly were not afraid of dragons.

Like with Vasya, Patrice didn't really know what to do with the cats. How did one treat animals, especially ones that seemed to like you? Or at least, not dislike you. Some of them held aloof in their crates, but others rubbed against the bars seeking attention. They were still young, not adults yet, but already their protective instincts have been trained and honed enough for sale. Already they were large enough to give an adult human pause.

What had seemed innocuous enough the previous evening suddenly seemed much more questionable. What did Patrice know about other animals? Nothing at all. Not what they were like, not how to care for them. "I don't know…" she said.

The maids wouldn't accept that. After much nagging and debate, she ended up in a small meeting room with a young cat half the size of a horse. His fur was patchy black and white and up close, Patrice could see that he had the same spots as his wild ancestors hidden in the dark patches. She held her hand out to him the way that she had for Vasya and he came right up to her, rubbing against her dress and her fingers, purring loud enough to be heard through the door.

That, it seemed, was that.

The cat came with them, with his own food and supplies, a list of command words, and a harness and leash to bring him back to the palace.

"Really, Lady Patrice," Maria told the bewildered dragon, "it was only a matter of time. Nearly all the gentle ladies have a guard pet staying in their quarters. Why shouldn't you? It might even be good for you."

"I'd prefer a cat to a dog anyway, if I could afford one," Anna said. "They're cleaner. On my salary though, the most I could ever hope to get is a goose. But the cat should protect all of us, if we are in the room."

The seller had taught Patrice how to 'introduce' friends to the cat. He would bond to her most, especially if she were the one feeding him. But they were social animals and he would accept anyone that she did. That was supposedly one of their selling points, as most other animals including some breeds of guard dog could be very selective with who they chose to like.

"You'll have to name him too," Elaine said.

"I don't even know the first thing about human names," said Patrice, "let alone cat names."

"Really, Lady Patrice," Anna said, "it's not nearly so complicated as you want to make it."

Patrice shook her head. She didn't know how to explain to them how important names were to dragons. If she was to be in charge of this creature, then she would not treat it with any less respect than she expected from others.

Patrice attempted to form an acquaintance with the strange young animal as the maids attempted to get her ready for the feast that night. They made last-minute adjustments to her dress for the feast – another picture of emerald and sapphire but in silk this time, to her jewelry, to her hair – once again worn in a snood, and Patrice put up with it all.

It seemed far too much bother to her, but they were the ones who had been working so hard to provide her with what they considered an appropriate wardrobe. Dragons didn't complain about the type of prey they ate, if they hadn't flown the hunt. Patrice tried to apply the same logic here. At least they tried to keep things in line with what she wanted, a fact that probably also made their lives a great deal easier.

She couldn't truly argue about the cat either. It would be nice to know something was guarding her things, considering how many things she now had. Being human came with a great many possessions, a fact she had not been prepared for. She certainly couldn't be expected to keep track of it all.

Although she really would've been fine with one or two practical outfits and little else, that didn't fit the rules here and she was trying to play by their rules. So, she now had possessions. So, she now had a cat to look after them. Human life certainly was strange.

The day was so busy that Patrice only had an hour to herself before Felisjyta showed up to escort her to dinner.

Her eyes sparkled when she saw Patrice. "I think my colors suit you very well," the knight teased. "You look wonderful, as always."

Felisjyta wore a similar outfit as to the last feast, only slightly different embroidery showed them to be unique pieces of clothing. It was a look that suited her. "And you look very handsome," Patrice teased back. But their conversation was cut short when Patrice had to 'introduce' Felisjyta to the cat, and the cat to her. Although it was a relatively short interruption, they didn't resume their conversation after. Felisjyta merely offered Patrice her arm and Patrice took it. Then it was off to the feast.

This time, entry was easier. People did look up from their seats, but Patrice was no longer so exciting and they returned to their own conversations with due haste. Hundreds of snippets of conversation whizzed past her ears. Patrice heard certain words repeated again and again, words such as 'adultery', 'disgrace', 'guards', and the name of a count she was not familiar with.

Patrice smiled slightly. Some other poor fool had taken her place as the center of court gossip, at least for the time being.

Although, she could not smile for long. One of these people must've been in possession of her mother's dragon skin, but who? Although she scoured people's faces while she ate servings of some of the milder dishes, she could not see anybody paying much attention to her or acting particularly suspicious. She supposed she would just have to continue to pay attention. She could not afford to dismiss humans as she had initially. So Patrice ate, and watched, and waited – eagerly, she could admit – for the dancing.

Rothert, Johan, and Petrich all came up to try and claim Patrice for a dance almost immediately. She glanced at Felisjyta, who shook her head.

"Dancing is fun and all," said Felisjyta, "but I'd like to see some of the other amusements."

This Summertide festival had plenty. Unlike the previous feast, there was more to do than just food and dancing. There were games and small contests set up in the gardens – things that Patrice also wanted to try. There would also be a bonfire at midnight, which had some traditional purpose in ending the season. But for now, she would dance.

"Four isn't such a bad number," she said, offering her hand to Rothert.

"Indeed not, my Lady Dragon," he said.

And so the four of them entered a round together. It did not take long for the mood to turn serious.

Rothert said, "Errys told us about your cloak being stolen, and how it puts you in a precarious position."

Patrice did not fail to notice how he said 'your'. So Errys had kept her truth of the matter hidden, as Patrice had requested. "It was something of a shock for me," she said. "And it will likely lead to trouble down the line."

Johan seamlessly picked up the conversation. "Rothert and I are behind you on this," he said. "We aren't attending summer court, but we are set to attend many of the parties and events being held. We’ll do a little poking around, and see if we can find out who stole it."

Petrich had something to say as well. "I also heard what happened, Lady Dragon,” he said. "It is extremely troubling. All Serzeks are outraged by this disrespect. So I would also like to offer my assistance."

Patrice looked between them for a full minute before she spoke. "Thank you," she said, finally. "I did not think-"

"To ask us for help?" Rothert asked. "Or expect it? Or even to let us know something was wrong?"

"I-"

Johan gave her a gentle smile. "Humans take care of each other. Knights even more so. I know dragons are more solitary, but you no longer have to face everything alone."

"It may take me a while to believe it," she told him.

Petrich looked at her, his gaze solemn. "You must believe, Lady Dragon, that there are those who only have your best interest at heart."

Johan and Rothert eagerly agreed with this assessment, but shortly after Johan changed the subject matter. After all, as he said, this was no evening to be dwelling on dark things.

She finished the round dance in high spirits, all things considered, and headed to the gardens in search of people and amusements.

She found both.

In one grove, she found a game where people silently acted things out and others tried to correctly guess what they were doing. That seemed to be a great favorite and she watched for some time before moving on. Another three groves were devoted to different card games, none of which Patrice knew how to play. A long flat stretch of trimmed grass had been taken over by some game involving small hoops, balls, and clubs, which she could not make heads or tails of. Yet another small grove showed a minor mage doing tricks for an audience.

Patrice had never seen magic performed before, so she paused to watch. The mage created fire from nothing, which danced in his bare hands without burning. He coaxed a tiny seed to grow and bloom into a full rose, levitated small objects, and guessed the thoughts of others. Patrice clapped politely for each display, however none of those things matched the stories of wild and powerful magic her mother had told her, and she quickly moved on.

She found Felisjyta and Errys involved in a competition with a group of knights at the archery range, a competition which involved not only bows and arrows but also a great quantity of wine. Patrice stopped to watch that too. The competition went by rounds. Any archer who hit the target made it to the next round, but they also had to drain another glass of wine before they could shoot again.

"Patrice!" Felisjyta said when she finished her current round. "You get tired of dancing already?"

"I just wanted to see what else there was to do. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, immensely," Felisjyta said. "Errys and I found one another and decided to give it a go. Before long all these other morons joined us at it and now here we are!"

"What are you competing for?" Patrice asked.

"Who knows? Maybe a kiss from a beautiful woman if anyone's willing to offer," the knight replied with a wink. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed, though from the activity, the alcohol, or both Patrice couldn't tell. Patrice didn't know how to respond to that, so she said nothing. Felisjyta laughed as she accepted a glass of wine that was handed to her, and drained it in a single drink. "We're not competing for anything, we're just having fun. I'm sure I'll regret it tomorrow but I'm too far in to back out now."

All the spectators cheered as a clearly inebriated knight managed to hit the center of the target, more by luck than anything else. He cheered too, and accepted his glass of wine with great ceremony.

Errys joined them as she waited for her next turn.

"You seem to be doing well enough," said Patrice. Compared to the behavior of the other knights, including Felisjyta, Errys seemed to be her normal reserved self.

"It's only wine," Errys said dryly. "Compared to what I drink at home, this may as well be water. Still, it won't be so easy if we have to go on much longer. I can hold my alcohol but even I have limits."

The two knights left at the same time to take their places in a line that still held eight other knights. Patrice watched for a few more rounds, but the knights held on surprisingly well. But why wouldn't they? From what Patrice understood of knights, they trained rough. Trained to fight sick, injured, drugged, or half dead, why should they not be able to fire arrows drunk? When there were still seven knights left she wandered away from that game too, even further into the garden.

There were other games farther out, even more things that she didn't know how to play. In the end, Patrice turned around and walked back through the crowds to the ballroom. She did not go alone.

The Countess Elizabet saw her, and fell into step beside her. "You're really beginning to make a name for yourself, my dear."

"I suppose," Patrice said. "I'm simply trying to be more active."

"Well you have interesting choices in friends. A Serzek, a bastard, a couple of clowns…that won't serve you too well in the future."

Patrice growled. "Thank you for your consideration, but I do believe I'm capable of making my own friends."

The countess tittered. "Most unfortunate, being burgled. The right friends might be able to prevent such things in the future," she said. "Well, you know I have an interest in guiding the young onto the right path. If things turn out badly, you may always turn to me for help."

Patrice had a strong desire to snap at her, but she turned and walked off to join another group of revelers before Patrice could say anything at all. She watched the countess leave, and made a mental note to tell Johan, Rothert, and Petrich to investigate her. She did not like the woman, or the knight who had fought for her in the tournament for that matter. Then Patrice shook her head and continued to the ballroom.

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Febuwhhump Day 17 -- Hostage Situation: The Captain's Sacrifice (3/3)

They returned to an inn in pandemonium.

Everyone was up, now, gathered in the lobby of the little inn. Four’s arm was in a makeshift sling, and he sniffled as he was doted upon by a too-tense Sky while Hyrule’s magic did its work. Wild was arguing with both Twilight and Time in nearly unintelligible sign, saying something about going after Wind while the other two tried to dissuade him. Down the hall and in the stairways stood employees and other customers of the inn, awakened by the ruckus of it all. He wondered where the man Twilight had captured was. Warrior hesitated—more people to recognize him, more to come after those they he loved—but Legend put an arm around him and guided him to Hyrule’s station in the far corner, pushing him down firmly into a seat. Warrior only distantly heard him call for a potion and some pliers before he rolled up his sleeves and took Warrior’s hands. He painstakingly began to pick the little shards of glass out of Warrior’s skin. Warrior relished the pain, letting it tether him back to earth and atone for just a fraction of what he’d allowed to befall Wind.

At some point, Hyrule made his way over and laid his magic over his hands, closing the last of the cuts into scars and scabs that would fall within a day or two. Time came after him, but Legend fielded most of his questions. Warrior muttered something to Time about the men who’d taken Wind—his single eye darkened, he’d been there in the War of Eras, he knew the danger of those traitors—and then, once his hands were wrapped in bandages, he headed back to his room to grab his things and dress for an audience with the Queen. He trudged up the stairs and pushed open the door to his and Twilight’s shared room, not seeing more than a foot in front of his face as his mind spun. Zelda would need to be contacted as soon as possible, so he’d head to the castle right away, after which they’d have to set up scouts to look for Wind, canvas the area for potential hide—

There was a note sitting on Warrior’s rented bed. A little folded piece of paper, placed daintily in the center of his newly straightened pillow. It had not been there before he left. Someone had been in their room.

He opened the note, reading it over once, twice, three times. Then he took a deep breath, sat it back down on his pillow, and crossed to his bag to get dressed. He pulled on not his soldier's uniform appropriate for his planned audience with the queen, but instead his simple, sturdy traveler’s clothes, complete with a knife he knew he wouldn’t have any use for down his boot. He reached for his scarf, folded neatly at the top of the pile since he went to bed last night, then changed his mind. Instead, he placed it in the center of his bed.

That done, Warrior walked back down to the lobby. He caught Legend’s eye— did he know what he planned to do? Would he try to stop him? But Legend offered little more than a nod before he turned back to Time, his hands moving as he described the men that had taken Wind for what must have been the 5th or 6th time, given his irritated tone. Warrior found it easy, almost too easy, to skirt around the others and slip out into the night.

Hours later, Twilight would go up to their room to retrieve his wolf’s cloak before they set out to look for Wind, and he would find the note. He’d read it quickly, then run for Time, shouting to ask if anyone had seen the Captain. And less 15 minutes later, they’d find Wind on the inn’s doorstep.

We have your brother. He is uninjured for the time being, held in a secure location outside of the city. Meet us at the corner of 15th and Main Street in an hour and a half, and he will be returned in an unharmed state to your family. 

Come alone. Tell no one.

Visit this fic on ao3! The Captain’s Sacrifice

Or read my whole febuwhump series here! Febuwhump 2024

[blindrapture]

SUNDAY JULY 31ST, 2011 (Ground and Pound)

12:22AM Buck wasn't ready to go in yet, so we agreed to scout ahead. Past the drawbridge, past a dark entrance tunnel, the ceiling gives way to an open-air interior inside the castle walls. A fleet of stables on our left, a whole cottage industry of dyes and textiles on our right. Tubs of goop big enough for several to stand in. Few people were still around, having heard the fight going on at their front door. There were some old women, horns on their heads too, stomping their feet in the goop, and some making odd crafts, who eyed us with disdain but paid us no more attention. The faint thumping of Legsteps caused a woman to raise her fist at the air and shout something in a foreign language. Probably a curse, a demand to turn the music off. We've found no guards yet, though. No cause for hostility. Donnie took a look at the stables and found perfectly ordinary horses, goats, pigs. But there's also one other type of animal she'd never seen before, looked like a big cat with udders. Taking the left turn to reach the stables, then turning right again, we're faced with a long path lain with red carpet, passing four big doors on both sides, leading up to a door as big as the castle entrance. That's the keep with the big spire. I'm pretty sure that's where our boss battle's hiding. The door will not open for us. No door will, in fact. So, we're in a big open-roof h. Entered on the bottom-right. Stables on the bottom-left. The textile workers are in the curve on the right. Final stretch is top-left. And, this being a castle, the tall walls have battlements where I keep expecting to see guards looking down on us from above. But nothing. No dead bodies lining the streets. No massive instruments of war staring us down to shoot flaming cannonballs. No crowd of people gathered around wizards warning against witchcraft, pointing at us in righteous indignation. I was even partly expecting an entire army of giant halberd horsemen, looking angrily in our direction, as soon as we came in. Donnie and I took the peace as an opportunity to rest up. We found a pile of hay and sat together, taking in the sights, watching the black grid in the sky drift slowly in a direction, like clouds. We settled on our plan for the Cipher: We'd get to the king, maybe ahead of Buck if at all possible, and explain our situation. We'd neutralize Buck together and ask the king for a way out. My sword's gotta be good for something. Then we got to talking about the history mentioned in parchment 3. This world went through a red sky. A 'plague' came through their doors. It dethroned their-- took their God, and turned an entire kingdom into walking piles. Neither of us is sure whether that's the fate that awaits our world, but it's gotta be talking about the same kind of thing. This kingdom went through the Rapture. And our gods are frightened for their lives.

12:32 AM Buck has joined us. "Did you two see that creepy fuckin' hallway on the way in, off to the side?" Creepy hallway? o_o

12:36 AM Back at the entrance, in the dark entrance tunnel, we had obviously passed an open door. Looking through it, there's just a distant lantern on a table on the other side of black passage.

12:37 AM As we approach the table, we can hear something whirring and tapping. Music preparing to drop. The table has a piece of parchment on it, and a lever. "Good cavaliers. You stand within Castle True. After the plague that befell my land, I had my most trusted diseuse cast her Rhetorics on the castle to disguise its nature, as mine people deserved not to have to see themselves as they now had become. However, only the true are permitted entrance to my throne room, and so my door is sealed as long as the disguise holds. You will have to see what lies beneath the veil. Once you pull that lever, it will begin. Can you put a price on peace?" ...we're looking at each other. the music is. bubbling under the surface. Donnie's reaching for the lever.

12:39 AM hard guitars. chugging monotone. blasting drums. syncopated. freaky shrieking synth. techno horror metal. the lights are on. electric bulbs. now we see the bodies. lining the walls. they're melted together. people fused at the hip. the head. the arm. the chest. some bodies going through others', some bodies terminating where the next person's body begins. and not a single cut, it's all unbroken skin. their eyes are open, looking at us. mouths agape, unable to shut. they are the walls. feet touching the floor. buck threw up a little. let's. let's go.

12:40 AM on the way out, a leg tripped donnie. we grabbed her and pulled her the rest of the way, doing our best to ignore the arms reaching out. out in the main entrance hall, it's not much better. the walls here are breathing in and out. not quite regular, but that's worse, that makes it pretty clear there's a will inside there, consciously breathing. going out into the castle proper, can already see the sky is no longer a grid. it's just bruise and a texture like congealed liquids that don't mix. makes me think of bile and blood pooling around bits of cartilage. no grid. no order. the castle is shrieking. the old women were leaving us alone out of necessity, as their lower halves are melted into the fleshy ground. they look like slugs. there are guards, plenty of guards, but they were absorbed into the ground, and now they emerge, pushed out by peristalsis, also with melted lower halves, frozen to the spot, only able to move their arms, which they use to aim their bows. I don't want to make out the expressions on their faces, there is no good option. donnie "let's. get to the. throne room. now." buck "don't have to tell me twice." big sigh, steeling himself.

12:44 AM those arrows are not wood, nor steel, they are sharpened teeth. buck has tipped over a vat of.. clothes dye??? and lifted it over the three of us to form a shield. one of the old women cursed at us. her mouth opened wider than the vat. I thought she was going to swallow us. instead she launched black phlegm which missed us and sizzled into the ground, bubbling and melting a hole. go. go. go. gotta round the corner. get past the... stables. that's a giant liquid mass of animal. neighing, braying, growling, all at once. body parts swim around in the mass freely. it's pressing against the gates. the gates will not hold. but they're holding long enough for us to read another piece of parchment. "Good cavaliers. The red sky brought us a plague of flesh."

12:49 AM The gates burst. Goop barrelled out, the animals inside pulling the mass in every direction, ultimately resulting in a writhing flood charging back and forth, hitting the walls again and again. The force of a flood combined with the panic of a stampede of confused animals. We fucking ran. Ditched the vat. The mass spilled onto the red carpet first, so we had to turn back and push our way into the peasants' quarters behind the textiles and dyes, slipping past the immobile old women screaming in terror. A doorway gave way into an interior of yet more gross suffering. Greeting us were more people plastered into growths on the walls, but at least the door shut behind us.

12:50 AM "guh!" oh. there's a blacksmith here, one foot fused with his anvil. he's. he's still able to move with it, dragging it screechingly across the floor. his eyes are frantic, bloodshot. his beard is crusted to his apron. he wields a large hammer. and we don't have much space to dodge him without getting within reach of the arms and mouths on the walls. buck shouted "FUCK THIS!" and grabbed at the blacksmith's hammer. he can't disarm the smith. it is his arm. "YOU FUCKING ABOMINATIONS" "grah!!!!" hammer broke buck's leg. okay. donnie. this is easy. there's three of us, and now the blacksmith is distracted. stay calm. and rush him.

12:51 AM "grrrggl" sword through the chest. frying pan concussion. only vomited a little afterwards. buck thanked us. but I don't know what he can do with his dead leg. "C'mon, kids... I can still fight!! It's nothing, just a leg!" he's getting freaked because there is a serious opportunity here. and we're.. not immediately reassuring him. just looking at each other. sigh.

12:53 AM Donnie and I just told him to rest up. We're not gonna leave him, not here. But we found a staircase, and we need to have a look around. Up the stairs is the battlement, the path atop the castle walls. We have a good view of the scene below. The rampaging animal thing has scarpered out the castle entrance, leaving a trail of gunk on all the destroyed crates and barrels and detritus. The guards up on the battlements are turned to watch the animals outside the castle, see what they get up to. Donnie tapped my shoulder, pointed at a lookout tower nearby. She sees a parchment on the doorway. We've got to get there. But we will have to pass a few guards, and we will be noticed. ..she's pointed at my sword. Yeah, I guess that's fair.

12:54 AM the sword slices through the guards like butter! but all the other guards have noticed us and are taking aim so donnie's trying to shield against the arrows with her frying pan and I'm trying to hide behind dead guard bodies

12:55 AM at least the music is fucking awesome

12:56 AM hiding in the tower tip tip tap tap tap arrows hitting the wall we made it alright we still have to get back but for now we're alright. donnie, what does the parchment say. "Good cavaliers. An existence of pain and torment awaits all who dare challenge the terminal coming. The colossal sirens will sing your doom for the rest of your days, and those days will be long. Dost thou see them out there, encircling my castle? They play an infernal music that is eldritch to our ears. The music waiting for you will no doubt be worse, as every time the music must reprise, it has new values to incorporate, and a new understanding of 'music' to desecrate. I have spent my later years wondering, in vain, why this is to be. What force stands to benefit from torturing my domain? Does it benefit from torturing thine as well? What laws fuel its sadism? Your final challenge awaits just outside my throne room, in mine church. Remain mindful. I pray thou aren't digested on the way here." Wait, but then what was this challenge? donnie "'Remain mindful,' I suppose? The challenges inside the castle have been much more direct."

12:58 AM It did ask if we see the sirens outside the castle. We're in a lookout tower. May as well look! "Yeah, it's the Legsteps. I can see them. Are they breathing fire?" marching, evenly-paced, along the bay. engulfed in an eternal flame as they blast out heavy screeching metal. the fire shoots out rhythmically, I suspect it's just being propelled by the force of the speakers. "Better than dubstep, I guess, but so much more destructive. ..oh my god." what "Look at the moon." ...oh, that's not a moon. o_o That's an eyeball, staring right at the castle. "It doesn't look like an animal's eye or an insect's or anything, it looks almost human." But a lot more complex than a human's. Like this is what our eyes might evolve into, hundreds of thousands of years from now. Multiple layers of iris, veins rotating and interweaving in the white. "The sky makes me feel like we're inside a giant organ, so that'd be an eyeball in the organ, monitoring--" okay I don't want to think about that part. "What, too gross?" all of this is hitting on a deeper phobia of mine. "This is how the denizens of this castle have had to live, though. No wonder they needed a veil over reality." can we just go now? "Back through the arrows?" yeah. we've still got work to do.

1:01 AM Back in the blacksmith's forge. Had to pull an arrow out of my leg. Buck's standing, using some wood as a makeshift crutch.

1:02 AM We filled him in on where we have to go next. We're willing to defend him from incoming arrows, as it helps a lot to have a big dude with us. He's.. starting to feel the fear. We're not in a good spot.

1:03 AM Donnie and I tipped over a wooden table and are holding it to shield us all, to the best of our abilities. I don't expect this to work the whole way, but. We've got to try. We're nearly there.

1:07 AM slow going, at buck's pace. we're not there yet. not rounding the corner yet, not at the red carpet yet. taking a quick break. then back to the grind. the table's.. sufficing. nobody's been hit yet. we're just freaking out a bit at how close the arrows are getting to our fingers.

1:12 AM turned the corner. the red carpet's a tongue. of course it is. the arrows have stopped. the guards are just watching us now. why oh. 'cause there's two halberd horsemen waiting at the door to the keep, at the other end of this long stretch. and with the disguise gone, we can see they're morphed into their horses, like hideous centaurs. their armor is grafted onto their skin, a sharp carapace. they roar. they hiss. they click. they stare us down. ohhhh god. donnie "I'll take the one on the left." r. really? "you take the one on the right." we're doing this? "don't doubt us now, jordan. we can do this. we have to." sigggghhhhh. u_u "buck, you back us up however you can, but we'll keep their attention." sword at the ready. "let's rip and tear."

1:13 AM SLASH swipe dodge NEIGGGGHHHHH wait SLASH WHIIIIIIINNNNYYYYYYYYYY take the fucking horse legs out eliminate his mobility STRIKE at his halberd pushhh back sword knocked out of my hands uh uh buck grabbed the centaur's head exerting great effort snapped his neck. "fucking hate these bastards."

1:14 AM donnie's having some trouble, as she just has a blunt weapon now we can back her up slice the horse's legs buck grabbed the halberd, can't rip it out as it is the horseman's hands but he can hold it still while I send my sword through his head!!! and that's how you do it.

1:15 AM when we were all finished high-fiving each other and letting out our adrenaline, we remembered the next challenge is in a "church" outside the throne room. there's the closed door to the keep at the far end of this stretch, but there's four sets of doors on either side too. will have to just try them all.

1:21 AM first sets of doors were barracks. lots of soldiers grafted to their beds in a big connected system of flesh. shut that door immediately. second sets of doors were armories. I swapped out my rusted sword for a shinier one. donnie grabbed a big hammer. buck wanted a gun, but they don't have any of those. so he said he's fine with his fists. third sets of doors, however, were churches. two identical parallel churches. aisles of pews leading up to altars. the right-side church has a priest in a cloak waiting for us.

1:22 AM "Good cavaliers. You are here to challenge the king. I am Ponos, the king's trusted" deesus? diseuse. Well. Actually. We're here to protect the king, we don't want to decode the last Cipher. buck "You what?" ponos "Your party is not of one mind. This must be remedied, or else you will never make it out of this." buck, listen, man. yeah. we were never gonna kill the cipher. we're here because you guys, your buddies, were going to do it, and we needed to stop that from happening. buck "Why the fuck would you lie to us?" Well, we were hardly gonna be able to stop all four of you! Or even two of you! "Man, that's... fucked up. You really think the Ciphers are gonna make things worse?" I really do. Ponos, can you back me up here? Your world went through a red sky thing, didn't you guys have to do seven big things? "No?" donnie "I don't think anyone from this world ever went into the Doors in the first place." buck "See? If we don't do the Ciphers, this shit's still gonna happen!" ...wait, shit. You're right. That is what we've learned here. How the fuck does all this work?! Why is it so complicated? All these systems, all these sources with different stories! Goddammit, Tiresias! donnie "Ponos, sorry, can you tell us what's going on from your perspective?" ponos "My king has been tasked with serving as the seventh spectacle in an unholy procession, and you cavaliers are the ones we were told to wait for. You are here to kill the king. I am not to stop you in this; my task was to link my Rhetorics to the lever at the front of the castle." But what happens when we kill the king? "That is of little concern for me, as my world will be left leaderless and doomed. I suppose the unholy procession will.. continue." hnng. So, if we don't do this, Rapture will come regardless, as it seems to have come for you guys. And if we do do this, more wacky shit will happen on the way to Rapture. Is that even really a choice? We're choosing whether or not there'll be a party before armaggeddon. ponos "Think it through, good cavaliers. I can already identify the flaw in your logic; there is an obvious correct choice. Let this be your final challenge." fuck. okay. think it through, think it through. buck "One last party before the end? Isn't that better just for the fun of it? Dutch courage. Where's the fun in just lying down and dying?" She's saying the choices aren't actually equal, I think, so it's not just a party, it's not just a spectacle. ponos "I did not say that." Well. What are you saying? "I am saying that there is no such thing as 'just' a spectacle. The smallest difference is an opportunity." donnie "No such thing as 'just' a spectacle. A spectacle is a change, it's a game, it's a chance to stick a wrench in the system." Well, what kind of perfect apocalypse would allow for that? donnie "That's your assumption, that Rapture is perfect." I'm going off of what it's presented to us! ponos "You are going off of the spectacle, and that is precisely why powerful forces use spectacle. It's the strength of rhetoric. This red sky is powerful rhetoric, it is very convincing, but until you have seen for yourself, you cannot rely on the narrative provided by the spectacle." ....shit. I get it. I get it! o: It's the very fact that this apocalypse is using so much flashy shit that's why we should believe there's a crack we can tear open! ponos "Well, it's. It's why you should be curious about the possibility of a crack. It is entirely possible that there is no path to victory, in which case the spectacle exists to humiliate you. But the spectacle is a veil, it is an ambiguity. You cannot rely on an ambiguity." Okay. So. So we should kill the king. "You were not going to leave if you hadn't, regardless. It is my job to open the exit for you." ...you could have opened with that. "I needed to make sure you were all of one mind. You have made it this far. You have one thing left to do. The king will tear you apart if you have any doubts left."

1:26 AM Only one thing left to do… Open the doors to the keep.

1:27 AM "Good cavaliers…" There he is. A giant blue man on a giant throne in a giant chamber. Hard furry boots. Grey-green robe. Big fucking muscles with which to lift a giant golden mace. Eyes glowing green. The only sign that he's gone through the same flesh-melting as the rest of his people is the fact that his head terminates in a jagged crown of skin. He sits on his throne, one leg crossed over the other. The music has stopped. There's Legsteps at the walls, waiting for battle. In between them are stationed golden knights. "Welcome to the end of your quest. It must have been a great exertion, but I have some say in the structure of my realm here, and my kingdom's fate deserved a witness." We're so sorry this happened to you. "Thank you for saying so. May I ask your names?" I'm Jordan Dooling. This is Donnivan Rand. He's, uh. "Buck Stevens." "Good cavaliers, thank you." bow. "Before we begin, do you have any questions?" Uh. Actually, I'd like to know how you ended up as a Cipher. Did someone come and.. tell you that you'd be challenged? How did you take it? "The news came to me by my own God sometime after the plague of flesh ravaged my people. I had not seen my God ever since that began, and when He returned to me, I could see He was now a vessel of a far greater power. He told me that the will of the Infinite had chosen my world for a higher purpose, that I was to stand guard against coming challengers from other worlds, that I was chosen for this due to my incredible willpower and stature." Do you.. know why this all is? Why the fights? Why the challengers? "I was not told, as this was the will of a power I could not understand. Before the red sky, I would have taken the word of my God in trust, but seeing Him as He is now, just a mask for an infinite evil... I have formed my own ideas. This evil took my world, and it chose a form of attack that would overwhelm us. I have little doubt that it is using me as another form of attack against new victims." I think you're right. buck "We're not the first ones you've fought, are we?" "No. There have been others before you. Much time separates the fights, but I have never lost." grimace. I see. ...okay. I think we're ready. "I hope that you are." he's standing up. "Timor mortis conturbat me." wielding his mace. steel face. "May you fight true. May you will real." ..a health bar has appeared in my vision. atop it is a name. KING REAL

1:30 AM brass horns wobbling through the legsteps, chugging guitar. King Real's mace shakes the room when he slams it down. his attacks are slow but heavy. and he can dodge fast. he's focusing on Buck, whose bum leg keeps him slow. donnie and I are circling behind the king oh shit the golden knights are coming out into the fight wielding great two-handed swords fuck we've got to take care of this

1:32 AM keeping the knights at bay is working but we can't sustain this buck can't focus on getting a hit on the king because he's got to play evasive donnie's taken care of a knight but there's two more coming for her I've still got three

1:33 AM I now have two, and they're attacking one after the other donnie's taken care of all her knights and is going for the king that hammer must have been a better choice than my damn sword hrrrrggg fuck OFF you damn KNIGHTS

1:34 AM okay couldn't focus on either one but I chipped away at both of them and now they're both dead just in time to see King Real raise his mace high and bring it down on buck no scream, just a big crash shaking the room goddammit… bye bye buck. "Come, cavaliers! Is this the sum of your efforts?" donnie, we're gonna have to.. be smart you and me together one baits him, the other goes for the legs

1:37 AM we're whittling away at his health bar one of us runs in front and tries to attack, triggers him to wind up a swing, and the other waits until he's brought his mace down before we swing at the back of his legs but he's getting wise to this and is swinging his mace from side to side around his legs gave me a brisk smack to the stomach, knocked me off my feet

1:38 AM we're still trying our tactic, just gotta watch for when he tries to clear us

1:40 AM the fucker's JUMPING donnie dove at me, pushed me out of the way SMASHHHH as the king lands I can feel my teeth vibrating fucking bosses and their multiple attacks… donnie, what if we traded weapons, could you figure out some sword stuff, I think I could use some upper body strength to bring more force into that hammer

1:41 AM yes I am doing bigger chunks of damage with this he's clearing his legs! dodge

1:42 AM come, swing at me, big boy!!! c'mon!!! over here!!! SMASH donnie's rapidly cutting away at his ankles the health bar is below two-thirds

1:46 AM with this swing of my hammer SMACK we hit 50% and now he's stepping back, clutching at his head "You have some fight in you. This is good... you may actually be able to do this. Understand, cavaliers, I would love nothing more than to find the challengers who might stand a chance against the power that did this to my people, even accepting that this would mean my death. That would be a reprieve I have long prayed for. But you must be vigilant. You must stand firm. You must be ready for anything. The biggest obstacle in your way is your own mind, and so I had lain my challenges along your path with the goal of preparing you." donnie and I are catching our breath. "There are eight principles to hone as a warrior: View, Resolve, Speech, Conduct, Livelihood, Effort, Awareness, and Mind. And there are five mental traps you must always engage with: Desire, Cruelty, Sloth, Panic, and Doubt. As the dark forces allowed me to present my kingdom in any way I saw fit, so long as it stood as an obstacle on your path to me, I chose to test you on these thirteen points. Of these, the only ones you failed were Speech and Conduct, though you found the right Speech at the last minute. Conduct was perhaps a tall challenge to ask you to do in this situation, as murder in self-defense is the most obvious choice when presented with my kingdom's knights. Truth be told, I am glad you failed that one. I want you to kill me." he is kneeling. putting his mace down. "Do it now. While you still have a-- GURK" ..his eyes are glowing yellow now. wings of light emerge from out his back. "King Real has refused his duty. I will take his place for him." and. and who are you? "I am the Golden Light. I am his God." he rises to his feet, a golden aura emanating from within. his health bar is still at 50%, but now the name says KING REAL, VESSEL OF INFINITE LIGHT and he's rearing back his mace, but in the wrong direction? ...SMASH he broke the back wall of the throne room, sent it crumbling down with one swing. on the other side is a large garden, flowers of flesh and bone in pools of blood. the eyeball moon is perfectly visible, aligned to stare down the center of the garden. the God-King walks out into the garden. "Rapture will come, one way or another. The question is if you two will live to see it or die here where you stand." donnie gave a big sigh. "give me my hammer." okay.

1:53 AM Out in the garden now for phase 2. We've spent some time learning his attacks. It's a lot of the same slow swings, but this time when the mace connects with the ground, there's a circle of flaming light warming up the point of contact. And now he uses his wings to clear the area around him if we get too greedy taking swings at his feet. His dodges are much wider now too, he can put a lot of distance between us using his wings to propel him backwards. The Legsteps have come outside and burst into flames. No more brass horn, just electric guitar. Gotta stay alert. Gotta do it for the king.

1:57 AM SWING stab SMACK roll CRUNCH bap SLICE cut cut cut DODGE distract AGGRESS groan

2:00 AM he's raising his mace, glowing very bright let's uh let's back off a second ..crack the ground literally cracks in the ground GUSH, light pouring out of the cracks, radiating intense heat okay, this is a new one to watch out for

2:04 AM "OOF" fuck donnie's sent flying landed in the pool of blood god-king's stepping up to her HEY, YOU FUCKER YOU'RE NO GOD I'VE SEEN MUCH STRONGER GODS THAN YOU AND I'M GONNA FUCKING PROVE IT he's raising his mace, gonna smash her into bloody pulp

2:05 AM none of my attacks were gonna distract him from an easy choice so I had to grab donnie and throw her out of the way which put me in the range of his hammer-smash's glowing light aftereffect so uh that fucking hurt feels like extreme sunburn all over my body but I'm just feeling pure adrenaline right now and donnie's still out of commission so it's just me and the big guy

2:07 AM I'm doing a lot of dodging, not getting many attacks in, but his health is slowly going down he's around 30% I've gotta play it safe enough to not run into the glowies but I've gotta get aggressive when I think I have an opening

2:08 AM donnie's over there coughing up blood jesus I can't do this but I can't panic I need to.. deep breaths… it's just a dance just a big dance with an alien god

2:10 AM donnie's back up!!! wiped the blood from her lips and came to join me in this violent dance you're in trouble now, you fucking nightlight!

2:13 AM she's being a lot more careful that's good I'll gladly take the risks, donnie can go and punish him for choosing attacks that leave himself open

2:18 AM 15% he's getting frantic he's not dodging much anymore but his strong attacks are happening faster and the music's getting even more intense

2:23 AM SWIPE SLASH STAB HAMMER CRUNCH BOP CRACK he's down on a knee!! he's fucking staggered!! get him now!! get him now!!!

2:24 AM "AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHoooooooooooooooooooo" light spills out of him in bright lines, percolating and bubbling and BRIGHT EXPLOSION leaving nothing left but a silent garden. but it's strange. this isn't the silence of a battle won. I can't even hear the sound of my pencil scribbling in the journal. ...behind us stands Cockroach Jesus. Looking at us with open arms and a warm smile. He is saying something, but no sound is heard.

(Attached, in the middle of this log, is the note: "It was then, with the defeat of King Real, that the seventh Cipher popped open on my book, and I saw it open by itself. I saw, as the pages turned by themselves, pieces of paper attached throughout. And the pages stopped turning somewhere before halfway through, and it stopped on these words that you read right now. And there, staring me and you in the eyes at different points in time, were new words I hadn't written in there. Did you ever wonder why you even wear this red glove anymore? The struggle’s over. Well. The struggle IS over. What do you do when the movie’s done? The characters can’t leave the movie theater; they’re trapped within the screen. What happens to them? They never tell you. It’s something you’re meant to either find out on your own or be told by appropriate prophets. Mentors? To be fair, most aren’t meant for struggle. Movies are meant to remain within the screen with little crossover with reality. 'Reality.' Let’s not get existential here. What DO you do when the movie’s over? The story ends when the moral has been delivered; it wouldn’t make a good movie if we saw what happ Well, specifically, that would be entering a different theme entirely, so So so it requires a specific kind of movie. Of story. So you’ll have to find.. that. Because your appropriate prophets only apply to the struggle. No, that’s not true. They keep telling you the answers you seek, but you just can’t accept them. You don’t like the answer. You did what they said only heroes could do, you gave it a happy ending, and now you’re expected to go to the land beyond that happy ending and you can’t comprehend being normal again. Could you ever? Were you ever given a chance? This IS your chance. Is it fair to force the chance upon someone after they’ve been to the furthest corners of trauma with no reintegration process? Life isn’t fair Of course life is fair, don’t be silly. Life’s the most fair thing there is. Everything balances out in the end. It’s only in fiction where things don’t, because fiction is rooted in psychology, and psychology isn’t fair. From the perspective of the victim. Is that why, then? Is that why you can’t accept it? You were presented with a life so tainted in psychology that people are claiming it was fictional, and now you’re at the point where the story’s over and the credits are rolling. Do you want reality? That’s the ultimate question here. Forget about responsibility and catharsis, and pay no mind to the distant feeling you mistake for living. Tell yourself, tell ME, do you honestly want reality? Or do you want to go back to purgatory and the chains of psychology? ..well. You don’t have any choice in what happens, so you’d may as well just ride out the pain and enjoy yourself where you can. Enjoy. ‘Cause you’re never getting a good night’s sleep again. And then I heard a Door swing open behind me.")

2:25 AM A Door opened in the garden. I can only see blackness inside.

2:26 AM It is blackness, a great void, though Donnie and I are illuminated by a source we can't see. We're walking on nothing, towards nothing. What happens after the Ciphers?

2:27 AM Another Door led us into a waiting room with golden walls and marble floor. An electronic timer on the wall is counting down from 27 minutes. It's linked to a door that's sealed shut, and a sign. "DOOR WILL OPEN WHEN THE WORLD IS READY." Donnie's looking at me. I guess we'd may as well sit and wait.

2:33 AM We licked our wounds, looked at our bruises, and rubbed our weary legs. Still can't talk to each other, but company is company. She's resting her head on my shoulder now as I write some more. There's also a big TV on the wall, near the door. It's on. Displaying a screen, "NO FEED." If this is like San Francisco, the whole world is probably about to watch.

2:53 AM oh god. one minute left. ..Donnie wants to hold my hand. okay. :) we'll face this together.

2:54 AM Door's open. Starfield inside. I can hear my footsteps again. Donnie's breathing heavily. Into the starfield. There's someone up ahead. Someone wearing a fedora. o_o And.. a... plastic guitar. Guitar Hero III model, Les Paul. His arms are crossed as we step into place. ...Legsteps with camera heads are in the stars below us, pointing up at us. The man is reaching for something. It's a second guitar controller. Another Les Paul. He's. Handing it to me. The man is Bones.

4:30 PM Had to give my journal to Donnie. Only got my journal back now. Boy, do I have some news for you. Derek Taylor handed me a guitar controller, and as soon as I put on the strap, a giant Guitar Hero highway appeared in the sky above us. With the cameras on us, I imagine the whole world watched in confusion and incomprehensible awe as Bones and I... had a guitar duel. It was DragonForce's "Operation Ground and Pound." It was the Guitar Hero III chart. I was player two, Bones was player one. The moment the notes appeared, everything I once knew about plastic rock fell right back into place. I didn't think about why any of this was happening. I didn't think about my exhaustion from the long day. And I didn't think about the fact I hadn't tackled DragonForce in at least a year. All I saw was green, red, yellow, blue, and orange. We were supposed to be dueling, but I found I instinctively raised my guitar up to give Star Power to help him out when he struggled in the solos, even though that's how Rock Band works and not Guitar Hero. And he got what I was trying to do and grinned at me, raising his own guitar. Together, we were giving the world a soundtrack of power metal. ...but, yeah, I won. Kicked his ass. :3 When "PLAYER TWO ROCKS!" appeared on-screen, Derek and I slipped right into old inside jokes, starting with me hounding him for missing the last note, and him just asking, "did I just score?" True friendship lasts eldritch boundaries.

Then the Legsteps trotted away, and another Door opened ahead of us. I introduced Bones to Donnie, and Donnie to Bones. And before we entered the Door together, I looked at Bones and asked if he was here to stay this time. "I could ask the same about you." And we stepped out into the streets of Los Angeles, Legsteps faintly thumping in the distance. As if Bones even being there in the first place wasn't enough of a surprise, he took us to a safehouse where two others were waiting to meet us. "They were traveling together and just kinda ran into me the other day? We got split up when a Door took me to the starfield, but I was planning on coming back to them anyway." One was another guy, younger than me, with curly black hair and a machete. Name's Danny Finnegan. And the other was a girl about my age, in a white shirt and sleek black vest and tie, with sandy blonde hair and a.. gardening implement of some sort. Her name's Rauri McGanna. But I know her as Fentzy. It was. My damn. AIM friends??? I literally could not believe it. Thought this was a Fear playing a trick on me. We kinda forgot about doing anything and just idly wandered awhile, sharing experiences.

Shortly after the apocalypse started, Derek was intrigued by Xanadu, so he took to the rabbit holes, becoming "a creature of the Doors." He spent as much time as he could within the alien universe, spotting patterns in the passages within, to the point where he began to understand how to predict where he was being taken. He’s spent all this time avoiding combat when he can, but when he was forced into danger, he made quick use of his personal Les Paul guitar controller. That explains why his is still intact. >.> Danny, meanwhile, had been staying in the Carolinas before the Archangel took his loved one, and he chased him out west. He spent a lot of that time alone, and ran into Fentzy somewhere in Kansas, the two electing to stick together. Fentzy, then, started in Connecticut, tried surviving in New York for a while, and left (quite a while before Donnie and I made it there), traveling with her sister Dwyn. Those two didn't care about the hardships of the road so long as they were together, but. I mean, Dwyn isn't here, and Fentzy doesn't want to talk about that. She did meet up with Danny, and the two crossed the rest of America. They were actually trying to get to San Francisco to volunteer with the RAF, but they missed a truck. By the time they got here, San Francisco was just a big crater, and they went to Los Angeles instead. Donnie and I had to, uh, explain what happened with that. Meeting up with Bones was purely coincidence. Meeting up with each other was. Meeting up with me was. But, I mean, they'd each met a lot of strangers on their travels, and probably wouldn't have stuck together in the first place, but for the fact that they had been AIM friends. Anyway. Donnie and I had.. seriously had a long day, so we were given beds in the safehouse and konked out. We woke up a while ago and began heading out of Los Angeles when Donnie remembered she still had my journal, so here we are!

5:03 PM Bones has been reading through my journals. He’s asking a lot of questions and sharing anecdotes, and Fentzy and Danny have plenty to say too, so this may take a while.

10:34 PM We’re quite far from Los Angeles now. Not entirely sure where we’re going, but Bones just started leading us, so I assume he knows where he’s going.

11:29 PM Bones tells us he’s run into a lot of Fears on his travels, but he generally tries his best to avoid them. He wound up getting marked by the Omen, and he’s sure the Morphs are after him, but that’s about it. Except for “the Neonate,” who he says he’s hunting. He’s pretty damn good at keeping out of trouble! I must look like the biggest troublemaker in the world to him. “Man, what you look like to me is a lucky bastard with a great girl by your side.” You've got me there. For once in my life, it's gone that way. But it never felt right without you around, old friends. :)

(Attached: “we came in? Wait, no, that doesn’t really work in this situation. Damn. Looks like I won’t get to use my trademark wit here. Then what else am I supposed to fill up this space with? Maybe I could talk about Guitar Hero. Yeah, sure, let’s talk about Guitar Hero. The song that Jordan and Derek played here, ‘Operation Ground and Pound,’ is arguably the easiest of the four DragonForce songs available for Guitar Hero III, which raises the question of why it was chosen for such a widely televised battle to begin with. They could have picked something much more entertaining. Then again, it was to be the first of many, so I suppose they wanted to keep the more climactic stuff for later. Which hints at the depressing fact that, for all the chaos and randomness that the apocalypse looks like it comprises of, in all actuality the apocalypse was so rigidly planned that the Ciphers were never gonna offer a way out. It’s debatable exactly how much even the guitar duels offer one. I won’t beat around the bush here: The horrible forces behind the apocalypse were just gloating when they chose that song.”)

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[mollymauk-teafleak]

it's called freefall (you can let it all go)

Sometimes you're deep in your Top Gun obsession and you also happen to be listening to a podcast reviewing House of the Dragon (which you haven't seen) and things happen and now Ice and Maverick have dragons. A huge thank you to @hangsters who continues to be my most favourite person <3

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3 if you enjoy this!

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People said a lot of dragon riders. 

They said they could talk to their dragons with their minds. They said they felt pain when their mounts did, that the two of them shared one soul and the death of one would bring the death of the other. They said dark magics were performed on them at birth, to strip them of all desire, take away their human needs and the associated body parts so they could bind them inextricably to their duty. They said they were cursed, that the gods spat at their attempts to breach the heavens and pulled them down for it. 

And of course they said they were mad. 

Tom supposed he wasn’t doing much to dissuade them of that one at least, standing on the balcony of the Crooked Tail tower nearly every night and staring up at the sky. He’d heard serving girls and grooms whispering, though they shut up quickly when they heard the clink of the light armour he never took off. All the usual horseshit, longing for a love lost when he took up his scales, going sky blind from too much time in the air, listening for calls in the secret dragon language. Tom wondered how people told such wild myths of men who used the same bathouses as they did. 

Though maybe he was mad. The thought at least crossed his mind, as he watched the sun sink into the grasp of the capital’s many towers, draining through those crooked stone and timber fingers and leaving night behind. But none of the shadowy clouds up there were shifting, none of the stars winked as something passed over them. Maverick hadn’t returned. 

Tom sighed, knowing he was high enough that none of the people threading through the narrow, crowded streets below would hear him. The Crooked Tail tower might list like a drunk against a wall but it at least gave the dragonriders who lived there a bit of privacy in a very crowded city where that was hard to come by. Tom could stand here, able to stare up into the endless sky and let the noise of the rest of the world fall away, like none of it existed, inside the curtain walls of the castle or outside it. And he would, gladly, if there were not that voice missing behind him, where the other riders laughed over cards and hurled jokes back and forth. 

Tom knew what he should do. He should turn around and join them, integrate himself with the men he wanted to lead some day. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure why leading them mattered to him. Those men were his brothers, the only ones he’d ever have, the only ones who had a chance of understanding him. He knew he should go and laugh with them, drink a cup of wine and work on letting himself be comfortable around them. 

But Tom also knew what he was actually going to do. So maybe he was mad after all.

No one tried to stop him, not the other riders who perhaps knew more than they would admit, not the guards on the main gate as he rode past them, not the people on the street, nobles or merchants or humbler city folk. Being known for a cold unapproachable nature had some benefits to it. 

The keepers at the dragon pits were even less likely to stand in his way, as Tom rode through gates designed specifically to look blackened and half melted, up to the enormous stone colosseum like structure on the highest hill in the whole city. People who worked with them every day, who cared for them in the strange way you could with something you feared so deeply, they’d never keep a rider from their mount, whatever the hour of the day.

The pits didn’t look like a place anything would enjoy living. It was dark and imposing, an undeniable dungeon so thick black stone and heavy iron chain curtains, the wall sconces kept low so the sight of flame didn’t excite any of the younger residents, projecting every movement up the high walls in shadow. It was dank too, cold water running through the walls like blood in a stone giant, ready to burst forth with a well placed hammer strike if worst should come to worst. The smells of damp and raw meat and smoke were inescapable, clinging to the stone like the layers of soot caked into the mortar. And of course, every so often, there would come a noise that could have been the earth shifting and breaking open, echoing eerily through the labyrinth so it felt like the walls were caving in, 

It made for a dismal, gloomy home for any living creature. But then dragons were unlike any other living creature in the world. 

Tom knew these dripping, cavernous corridors the way any other man would know the home he grew up in. Without thinking, his feet took him to the largest of the pits, the oldest, the ones built to house the dragons of old who grew to sizes where their wings could eclipse the sun over a whole city. 

There was only one dragon still alive who was growing to rival them. 

Tom walked through the enormous doors, familiar with their deep, low groan as tons of steel and stone cracked open enough to let him pass. They closed behind him much swifter than they’d managed to open, as if in panic. Tom understood. 

It seemed as though the vast pit in front of him was full of nothing but shadow and a slow, echoing drip. But Tom smiled all the same.

“Suivon?” he kept his voice soft, knowing it would echo, knowing she would hear, “Come on. We’ve got a job to do.”

And she did. One of the shadows high above him detached, unfurled, swelled in size as it broke through the others. There was a single shaft of moonlight coming in through the grate in the ceiling and as the shadow passed, it turned to brilliant white. 

As it always did, the sight widened Tom’s smile into a grin. The dragon rider all had titles of some kind, the way many traditional knights did when they gained some renown. His was The Iceman and of course people would insist it had nothing to do with his personality in the slightest, however apt it had ended up being. 

And Tom could hardly challenge them on that, when he rode Suivon, The Dread Blizzard. 

A tremor ran through the ground as she landed before him, a towering wall of brilliant white scale that relaxed into the form of the biggest dragon the world knew, enormous black iron claws each as long as Tom himself, tail that unfurled out and out and out, bristling, ice blue points until eventually it came to a dagger sharp point. Those jagged icicles continued up her spine as well and into a crest that looked like a crown about her craggy head, the tip of each wickedly sharp enough that they could, and had, impaled a man. Her face was spiderwebbed in brilliant blue cracks, like ice breaking to show water beneath, ones that could also be seen when she let her phenomenal wings loose. She looked like something that had pulled itself free of an icy mountainside, something wholly natural, cold and uncaring and old as the earth. 

And when she brought her head down to Tom’s level, when she opened her mouth to show row upon row of shining white teeth and blackness between, he laughed.

“Don’t give me that look now. It’s hardly past your bedtime.��

Suivon made a noise that might have been a growl but was just enough of a purr, the noise trembling the loose stones on the floor. Tom smiled, stepping towards her and resting his hand on her snout, feeling the unexpected heat of her, her exhales sending a warm, wet gale blowing around him. 

“I know, I know…” he soothed, his voice lost beneath her rough, admonishing purr and yet Tom never doubted she could hear him, “But it’s Maverick.”

Suivon gave a huff, the sudden gust nearly blowing him back. 

Tom felt his cheeks warm, “Hush. We’re going. You owe me for those two extra sheep carcasses at dinner today.”

He ignored her irritated grumble, resting his forehead on her warm scales for a second before moving to climb onto her back, like scaling a steep hill that breathed. He slid his lobstered gauntlets into the locks on the harness, settling comfortably into the crouched stance between her wing joints that he’d been practising and perfecting since he was a child. 

“Come on,” he inhaled deeply, matching his breathing to the beast already stretching and shifting eagerly despite her minor tantrum, “Let’s go drag him home…”

He dug his heels in and Suivon responded, their bond had long grown past the verbal commands. She extended her neck fully and exhaled three short bursts of flame that gouted up the throat of the pit and through the grate at the top. The signal to open. Within moments, Tom heard the creaking of that massive metal grinding to one side, some keeper having seen their command. Suivon gave a chirp and began skittering up the walls towards the moon. When she was right at the mouth, she leapt, wings snapping open with a sound like the sails of a warship, carrying them effortlessly into the air. 

The lights and smoke and noise of the city fell away so quickly as they escaped up into the night. Like always, Tom couldn’t help but feel the weights he carried were left behind too, the frustrating wall between himself and everyone else, the pressure to be the perfect knight and the perfect dragon rider, the need to look as though he’d stepped straight out of a tale of heroism and chivalry so no one looked any closer. He never felt like The Iceman when he was on Suivon’s back and racing the moon across the sky. He wasn’t sure he even felt like Tom. Things like that just stopped mattering and he simply felt like someone who could breathe. 

He pulled Suivon gently into a slow, mid air roll, wings tucked tight then snapping out, propelling them low across the sea the capital city was backed by. The air currents stirred by the roiling, inky waves buoyed them easily like a sea of its own kind, Suivon only beating her wings because she liked to feel the salt spray on them. She even dipped down enough to let one of her dagger-like claws cut through the water, rising and falling with the swell of the waves as they grew tall as houses that collapsed down into deep valleys, following this restless horizon closely. Tom laughed, the spray harsh on his face, enough to sting, but in a way that woke his nerves up and made his heart beat faster. He gave Suivon her head, letting her duck and roll and chase the waves, never once trying to pull her up into safer air. They didn’t ride the dragons for safety. 

And besides, they both knew where they were going. 

There were a myriad of rocky islands scattered throughout the sea, the frayed edge of the continent. Most were small enough for a gull or two to make their home, some even smaller, only a handful were large enough to support caves, spires, colonies of seals. But only the sailors and the dragon riders knew that further out they grew bigger, large enough to be bolt holes for pirates and smugglers, places to swim for if you were shipwrecked or if you didn’t want to be found. 

So it was these Tom steered Suivon towards, not that she needed much direction. This was a route they were familiar with. 

The largest of these islands was surprisingly empty of any sailors, legal or illegal, mostly because it was hard to reach. The water around it was famous for riptides and snags and other invisible dangers, hidden rocks that were actually the spires of sunken islands, ready to rip out the belly of passing ships, and of course there was a ghost or two if you believed the tales. So it was useless to the pirates but perfect for a dragon rider who was staying out past curfew. 

Or two dragon riders who just wanted to get out of the city. 

Suivon glided easily over those waters that would prove deadly to any ship, circling the island a few times as she drew lower. But, almost instantly, she wasn’t the only thing in the air. With a loud, raspy cry, another dragon leapt from the rocks and joined her, to neither Suivon or Tom’s surprise. 

Udrayatis was Suivon’s opposite in every way. Inky black instead of bright white, small and lightning quick instead of formidable, always chittering and squawking instead of the stony silence. When she took to the air, she immediately began flying about the larger dragon’s face, turning like an acrobat in a mummer’s show, rolling and showing off. Tom immediately felt Suivon stiffen with haughty disapproval, forcing him to hold back a laugh. 

Though they were opposites, the dragons had one thing in common. Their names suited them well. Suivon was the Old Tongue word for ice, Tom having been apparently struck by a chronic lack of imagination when a snow white, unusually large dragonling had broken free of the egg he’d chosen as a boy. While Udrayatis, born a little twisted and so small it was feared she wouldn’t survive, her name had come after her rider disappeared into books for days, thinking on it for longer than he’d ever given any decision. Tom could still remember the delighted grin on Pete’s young face as he’d told him the word meant rule breaker. And, sure enough, she kept to that name, stubbornly surviving and growing to take a rider when it had seemed impossible. 

Tom rolled his eyes and squeezed his heels, urging Suivon down before she decided to take a snap at the other dragon. With a growl and a gout of smoke from her nostrils, she obeyed, though not before not so accidentally letting her tail whip at Udrayatis and sending the black dragon tumbling and shrieking. 

“That wasn’t nice,” Tom admonished gently, as his mount settled on the rocky outcrop at the edge of the island. 

Suivon grumbled, narrowing her eyes at Udrayatis and apparently not caring whether it was nice or not. Though, as he always had, Tom suspected her dislike was a little feigned, an act that was wearing slightly thin as the two dragons grew up together. 

And he had to say he empathised with her.  

Tom unlocked his gauntlets and slid gracefully down Suivon’s mighty back, sighing down at the young man now stood grinning up at him with a smile. Ink black hair instead of light blonde. Small and lightning quick rather than tall and broad. Mouth endlessly running, even when it shouldn’t rather than taciturn and distant. Constantly forgetting his duty rather than being unable to let go of it. 

In some ways, dragon riders were supposed to forget any life they could have had before they entered the order. The titles helped with that, distancing them from the names they were given, from anyone who might have cared for them before they took to the air, from any other path they might have taken. And no rider clung to their title more fiercely, lived it more fully, than The Maverick. 

How a man could look so dangerous while standing there in nothing but trousers and an unlaced shirt billowing in the wind, Tom didn’t know. 

“You were supposed to be back at the tower by now,” he called down, trying to keep some tone of a future commander in his voice. 

Maverick laughed, his smile not dimming even slightly, “I could say the same to you, Ice!”

Tom tilted his head, “And I assume there’s no way to convince you to come back with me?”

“Well why would I want to go back now?” he grinned wider. He couldn’t see from this height but Tom knew there were creases around those dark, playful eyes, “You’re here!”

Tom also knew that Maverick shouldn’t be able to see the way his ears reddened at the tips. But he had a feeling he knew regardless. 

His resolve was clinging by a thread by the time he climbed down the rock, “I don’t know how we’re going to explain this…”

Mav was perched, cross legged, on a boulder by then, happy to lounge as Tom descended a few feet of wet rock, “Giving the girls some air. Scouting to the east. Extra patrols. Gods know we need them with the corsairs massing on the coast. I’m sure you’ll think of something to tell them, Iceman.”

“I can’t tell them that every night, can I?” Tom prickled a little at the use of his title. Whenever Maverick said it, it always seemed as though he was poking fun, like he knew how poor it fit him, “They will start to suspect something, even more than they already do.”

“Well…” Maverick’s eyes danced with a light that wasn’t there, a light he seemed to conjure up all by himself, “We don’t need to steal away every night, I suppose…”

Tom had reached him by that point and without another word he pulled the smaller rider into his arms, crushing him into a kiss fierce with need, longing and no small amount of desire to just shut Maverick up for a moment. He responded instantly, wiry strong arms wrapping around his shoulders, triumph and challenge on his lips. 

“That’s not happening,” Tom murmured, voice rough with how long he’d made himself go without air. 

“Thought as much,” Maverick grinned, dragging him back in.

The first time they’d kissed, nearly a year ago now, Tom had only felt fear, panic, the sense of falling like he’d slipped off Suivon’s back too far from the ground. All he could think of was what would happen if they were caught, the shame, the inevitable execution for breaking their oaths and with another man, no less. Condemnation from men and gods alike.

But he’d done it again. Because even that was better than going another day with that need burning inside him. 

That feeling, that voice, it had grown quieter each time, Tom had gotten better at recognising that it wasn’t his own. Of course there were still the nights where it found him again, usually when he was alone in his cell and trying to fall asleep, when Suivon was far from him and Maverick was too damn close. Though it had shifted, it was no longer they’ll all see you, they’ll all know. It was they’ll take him from you and they’ll kill him. 

But it all felt far away right now, lost in the roar in his ears that might have been the crashing waves and might have been the blood rushing through him. He kissed Maverick harder, hands coming up to hold his face. 

“Easy,” Maverick laughed into his mouth, shuddering a little at the touch of the cold steel, “You’ll leave marks…”

Tom withdrew his hands, sighing as he began to shed his black iron armour, “Well, look at you, out here in your shirtsleeves. I’ve told you, Maverick, if you fall-”

“I’ll be killed and there’ll be nothing a tonne of steel can do to change it,” he stole the end of his sentence, helping him unbuckle his breastplate, “Udrayatis hates the weight anyway, it slows her down.”

Tom would remind his fellow rider that his dragon was no longer the sickly, struggling thing he’d nursed so diligently, so much that Tom had found him asleep in the pit’s nursery more than once. He would point out that risking a broken neck at lower heights for the sake of having the fastest dragon in the sky was idiocy. But he knew Maverick too well to do either of those things. 

So he just kissed him again, pressing close into the other man’s warmth as layers of steel fell away to let the cold air in. With the speed and skill of the best of squires, he had him down to his linens and quickly drew him over to the cave mouth they’d made use of since they started whatever this arrangement was. The moment they took that first step away, Suivon began to growl, like those handful of inches more were simply unacceptable. 

Maverick gave a coy smile and drew away from the other man’s lips reluctantly, “She still doesn’t like me, does she?”

Tom sighed, “She’s just protective…” He glanced back, trying not to think about how his dragon saw Maverick as something she needed to protect him from. 

Suivon was still on her rocky perch, staying where she’d been told to stay, obedient as ever but doing it with very little grace, eyes narrowed and horns raised and teeth bared. Tom squeezed Maverick’s arm and walked back to her a little ways, standing firm. 

“It’s fine,” he called into the wind, putting the edge of command in his voice, “Go fly, go hunt. I’m safe.”

Suivon shivered unhappily, eyeing Udrayatis disdainfully as she cartwheeled up above, snapping at gulls. With a hard rush of smoke from her nostrils that made plain what she thought of his command, she took to the air, out over the sea on a few beats of her heavy wings. Undeterred, Udrayathis gave a loud shriek of delight and shot after her like a black bolt from a crossbow, apparently eager to show her the gull she’d snagged on her onyx teeth. The dark shadow chased the white across the rising and crumbling waves until they disappeared amidst the swell. 

“You know,” Maverick observed lightly, running fingers through his hair to sweep away the sea spray gathering in it, “We raise our dragons from eggs. We take care of them, we feed them and we teach them to fly. And yet somehow, Suivon sees herself as your mother.”

Ice shouldered him gently, rolling his eyes, “Let’s not think on that too deeply…not when there are much better things to do…”

He took the initiative then, catching the smaller man’s hand and drawing him in smoothly like they were at a court dance, other hand alighting on his waist. His kiss interrupted a purr of delight from Maverick, who bent into his embrace willingly. The wind had long since pulled Maverick’s shirt from his belt and Tom took advantage, sliding his hand up and under, against skin that shivered too his touch. 

“You’re freezing,” he murmured in the desperate snatch of air between one kiss and the next. 

“Getting less so…” Maverick smirked, taking the chance to nip at his lip, “But I take your point.”

He drew him towards the nearest cave mouth, a place that looked yawning and uninviting, all black stone, stalactites and stalagmites like rows of spiny teeth. But it was familiar to them, even when the rocky mouth swallowed them and left the moon behind, he still knew where to step in the gloom. They went further down the gullet until the wind and rain grew quiet, replaced with rhythmic dripping from a ceiling closer than was comfortable, soft trickling from hidden rivers that had never seen the sun. The walls shrank around them, forcing Tom to bend. Just at the point when the tightness became unbearable, when apprehension would tip over into fear and panic, there came that breath of air, a current in the stillness. Tom squeezed Maverick’s hand and let himself be pulled forward, having to crawl for a moment though he never let go, until they came to a vast, sudden emptiness and a strange light. 

It took a moment for Tom’s eyes and mind to adjust, it always had. To let himself believe he actually was seeing what he thought he was seeing, to accept the impossible scene. The moss or fungus or whatever it was that grew along the walls of their hidden cave held its own, eerie light, a dim green that carpeted the floor and crawled up the walls, making it look and feel like they’d crossed some veil into a different world. And it wasn’t just the walls, the pool that steamed with impossible heat towards the back of the cave, somehow warm as a man’s blood, was alive with light too. It was a cool blueness that would shift and swirl when they put a hand in it, like motes of light were suspended in the otherwise inky waters. Maverick had sworn that he’d seen fish in there that also shone, eel things that moved like lightning across the sky, though Tom would wait until he saw them with his own eyes to truly believe that. 

Tom inhaled, letting himself sink into the cool, damp, fresh scent of the place while Maverick went off to strike flint against the obsidian walls and light some of the candles they’d smuggled down here when they realised this was a place they’d visit frequently. They’d brought other comforts too, some blankets Tom neatly draped on stalagmites to keep them out of the damp, a few bottles of summer wine from the city markets, a smaller bottle of oil purchased much more secretively from a brothel on the Street of Silk. There were even some books, piled up safely away from the water, Tom insisting that it was hard to concentrate back in the Crooked Tail tower with the snoring of their fellow riders.

Altogether, it made this dim and dripping cave more of a home than either of them had ever known. It meant Tom was smiling as the warm candlelight spread, even though he knew it would be hard to explain their absence, even though he knew the risks they were taking. 

Maverick wasn’t in the mood to waste time, sweeping his shirt up over his head and beckoning him over to the pools. 

“Come on,” he grinned, his smile beckoning, “You stink from the ride over…”

“Is that supposed to be seductive?” Tom laughed, undressing too, “You’d made a terrible whore, shouting that down from a balcony.”

“I’d make a fantastic whore,” Maverick feigned woundedness, kicking away his riding trousers, “Though I suppose I wouldn’t be a rich one…”

“Why is that?” Thomas eyed him, letting himself be generous with his gaze, up and down Maverick’s tight, lithely muscled body. Clinging to a dragon’s back for ten hours a day did wonderful things for a man’s form, the lot of them were as strong as any knight.

“Well, I’d only have one client, wouldn’t I?” The lightness in his voice told Tom he knew he was staring, that he was enjoying it immensely, “You.”

He bent and slid into the pool, with none of his usual reckless abandon, like even he understood it would be sacrilegious to disturb these glowing waters. Once in them, up to the waist in iridescent, shining water, he looked like something mythical, like some elf king out of a storybook. Or like some tempting trickster god, a siren ready to reach out and snag a passing sailor. 

Tom was more than willing to be snagged. He finally stripped off the last of his clothing, the cold, hard rock under his feet softened slightly by the glowing lichen, the thin sheen of that oddly warm water. All of the chill from the ride and the sea melted helplessly before it, reigniting his nerves, bringing life back into his limbs. 

Maverick made a chase of it, sliding back to the very edge of the pool, making Tom come after him simply because he could. Grinning, Tom hunted him down, caught him about the waist, pressing him against the far wall and pinning him under a fierce kiss. 

“Gods, Ice…” Maverick breathed, his voice a tremble, a wisp of breath unlike his hands which closed tight as a trap around the taller man’s shoulders. 

Tom showed no more restraint, hands slipping down to grip Maverick’s hips, his thighs, feeling that dizziness that usually only came with being miles above the ground. Kissing him was like taking flight, that same sense of freedom and danger all at once, woven together so tightly it was impossible to know one from the other. Knowing you could fall and believing you wouldn’t, letting something so much stronger and more powerful than you take hold and run wild. 

Before long, Maverick’s collarbone was covered in bite marks, thankfully all well below where his armour would cover, and he was begging shamelessly, “Please, Ice…please…”

“Please what?” Tom growled against the hollow of his throat, that edge of a command in his voice again, for no other reason than to hear the words.

“Fuck me,” Maverick gasped, voice heavy with need, his nails raking thin white lines on Tom’s shoulders.

The plea worked as well as the command. Tom’s hand reached for the second of those little red glass bottles, the one they rested in a convenient divot in the cave wall just by the pool. The stuff inside was thick and filled the air with a fresh, grassy scent, cool on Tom’s fingertips, even cooler when he reached below the water and pressed it against Maverick, into the crease in his body. He jolted in response, grinding down into it hungrily with a wanton groan. 

“Easy now…” Tom gasped, taking his earlobe between his teeth. 

“You take so damn long,” Maverick whined, fighting to keep his hips still though he didn’t seem entirely in control of himself, “Fuck…”

“I take long so I don’t break you,” he punctuated his words by sliding his fingers in deeper, more suddenly, making Maverick kick and yelp. 

Through gritted teeth, he gasped, “Who says I don’t want to be broken?”

Tom had to laugh at that, working two fingers in and out of him, feeling those strong, wiry legs wrap around his hips so he could take him deeper, “Let’s see what I can do…”

More oil in his palm, this time along his own length, already hard and hot in his hand. He rose out of the water a little to slick himself and Maverick groaned at the sight of it, as though they hadn’t been doing this for a year, as though they hadn’t shared a bathhouse since they were boys. As though even now, even as he knew him inside and out, better than anyone ever had, Maverick still found something beautiful in him. 

“Take me,” Maverick’s voice was raw, desperate, his eyes so wide and dark that Tom felt he could pitch forward and fall into them. 

He answered with a kiss, with hands tight on Maverick’s hips, lifting him enough that he could begin the slow roll and press into his body. He swallowed the high, fractured cry Maverick gave at the stretch and burn of it, pushing beyond into the closeness, the dizzyingly sweet blurring of their two selves. 

“More, more, yes, fuck, oh fuck, yes-” Maverick rambled in senseless want, heels pressing into the small of Tom’s back, both body and voice willing him deeper until he just couldn’t. 

So Tom moved, bracing himself on the cool rock under his feet, one hand on the slick, black wall, the other around Maverick’s back. Like the waves somewhere up there, he rocked, gentle at first but then harder at a pleading whine from his lover, a press of those heels. Growling deep in his chest, he slowly gave everything he had, every ounce of strength in his body, to Maverick, fucking into him then drawing all the way back, only to surge forward again and make him scream. Tom lost all sense of time, of place, everything in the world becoming him and Maverick and the dense, tangled forest of their joined nerves, that soaring feeling. It was like flying. It was like falling. 

It came apart too soon, too suddenly. Tom broke first, hips stuttering, a low, throaty moan torn out of him as he spilled his heat deep inside Maverick. He took his lover down with him, a shriek of his name echoing off the cave walls as his release hit him hard. The landing at least was easier than a fall from dragonback, the tension unwinding and leaving the two of them panting softly, last embers burning out in each other’s arms. 

“Tom…” Maverick murmured, voice weak, pressing soft, feather light kisses against his neck, “I’ve got you…it’s alright…”

Tom burrowed into his arms, feeling the broken pieces of himself rattling loose inside his chest, letting Maverick’s gentle words, the soft fingers through his hair, slowly, painstakingly, fit them back together, “Pete…”

“I know,” Maverick whispered and for a moment, Tom could believe him. If Maverick couldn’t know, if he couldn’t understand, who would?

It was a long time before he could pull himself away, let them become two separate bodies again. Maverick was still smiling, those words they weren’t allowed to say plain in his eyes as he looked at Tom.

But fuck that. There was no one else to hear them. 

“I love you, Pete,” Tom murmured, resting his forehead against his lover’s. 

That smile broke through, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, those creases in the corner of his eyes. “I love you too, Tom.”

They would have to leave the cave soon, they would have to whistle their dragons back to them and return to the city. They would have to take this thing they had, tuck it away, hide it in a chest and push it well out of sight. 

But they could have another moment here, in their strange, safe, glowing world. 

A moment was all they had. 

[soul-eater-novel]

P164 どうもわからないという声で、マッシュが言う。「これは……、皆さんいったいどうなされたのです？」 “What in the world happened?” Mathiu asked, confusion plain in his voice.

「いいからそこのレバーを下ろしてくれ！横の壁にあるだろ？」、ビクトールが叫んだ。 “Forget about that, just pull the damn lever!” Viktor cried. “It’s right next to ya!”

「これですか……」 “You mean this one?”

ギリリとレバーを引く音が聞こえ、扉が開いた。 They heard the creak of the lever being pulled down. The door opened.

通路が蝋燭に照らし出され、数名の兵を連れたマッシュの姿がティルたちの前に現れた。 Candlelight flooded into the passageway, illuminating Mathiu, flanked by several soldiers.

「ティル殿、ご無事てしたか。帰りが遅いので、兵を連れて来てみたんてすが……。どうしたことでしょう、帝国兵の影も形も見あたりません」 “Lord Tir, are you injured? You were late returning, so I gathered together these soldiers to come look for you… what the devil is going on? We didn’t see a single imperial soldier on our way in.”

しかしティルは、マッシュの問いに答えられなかった。 But Tir wasn’t able to answer his questions.

床に目を落としたティルは、冷え切った床の上に緑のマントと青い衣服、そして柄に白い布を巻いた斧を見つけてしまったからだ。 Like a stone sinking unwillingly to dark depths, his gaze fell to the floor. Strewn upon the cold flagstones were Gremio’s green cloak, his blue sweater, and his axe, the handle wrapped in a white cloth.

なんの前触れもなく、ティルの目から涙が溢れ出した。 Without any warning, he began to sob.

ティルはその時、グレミオが本当に、自分の前からいなくなってしまったことに気づいた。 It had finally hit him that Gremio had really and truly died.

通路からの脱出法を探すことで無理やり悲しみを押さえつけていたティルは、そうしながらも、ずっと心のどこかでこう願っていた。 He had pushed his sorrow away by searching for a way to escape, the whole time believing deep in his heart…

この扉が開けば、グレミオがいるーー。 When we get this door open, Gremio will be waiting on the other side.

ぼっちゃん大丈夫でしたかと、グレミオが微笑んでくれるーー。 He’ll smile and say, “Are you all right, young master?”

しかしティルの前に、グレミオの姿はなかった。 But Gremio was nowhere to be seen.

ただ揺らめく蛾燭に照らされ、もう誰にも着られることのないマントと、握られることのない斧が転がっているだけだった。 The wavering light of the candle only illuminated his cape, with no one there to wear it, and his axe, with no one there to hold it.

P165 「グレミオ…」 “Gremio…”

ティルが思わず膝を落とす。 Tir dropped to his knees blindly.

緑のマントに、大粒の涙がばたりと落ちる。 His tears fell on the green cloak like giant raindrops.

「ティル様…．」 “Lord Tir…”

クレオに抱きかかえられて、やっとティルが立ち上がった。 Cleo hugged him and he finally stood.

「軍師さん、とにかくここを出よう。ティルには休息が必要だ」ビクトールも言った。 “We gotta get outta here,” said Viktor. “Tir needs to rest.”

床に落ちている物を見て、マッシュもグレミオの死を悟ったようだった。 It seemed Mathiu had gathered Gremio had died from seeing his possessions on the ground.

マッシュはしばらく床に目を落としていたが、ふと顔を上げるとティルを見つめてこう言った。 His gaze lingered on the floor for a moment, but then he raised his eyes and stared hard at Tir.

「ティル殿……、多くは言いません。ただ、あなたが解放軍のリーダーであることを、お忘れなきよう」 “Lord Tir… I’ll keep this short. Remember that you are the leader of the Liberation Army.”

しかしティルは、マッシュに答えることも、歩きだすこともできなかった。 But so great was his grief that Tir couldn’t respond to Mathiu or even walk toward him.

自分を愛してくれた男の冷えきった遺品と、彼が残してくれた温かな思い出の狭間で、ただ涙に暮れた。 Tears rushed in as if they could fill the gaping and endless abyss that stretched between the mementos of the man spread across the flagstones, grown cold, and all the warm memories he had given Tir.

---

ティルたちがガランの関所に戻ってみると、スカーレティシア城攻略の準備が整っていた。 Tir and the others returned to the Garan checkpoint and began preparations to capture Scarleticia Castle.

居城からローレライ、ルビィらを援軍として呼び寄せ、いつの間にか各街を回り有志も募っていた。 They sent for reinforcements; Lorelai and Ruby. In what seemed like no time at all, the Liberation Army’s ranks were bolstered by volunteers pouring in from what felt like every street corner.

テイエンの街からは船大工のゲン、奇妙な発明家カマンドール、帰還魔法を使いこなす魔術師ヘリオン、修行中の格闘家エイケイが参戦してくれた。 In the town of Teien a shipwright named Gen and an odd inventor by the name of Kamandol joined. So did the magician Hellion, who could use magic to send people back to headquarters instantly, and the martial artist-in-training, Eikei.

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[teacupcollector]

Rebel - Chapter 2

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Summary-  (Y/N) Is a Matt Murdocks 14 year old daughter who is just entering high school and is really struggling. She doesn't have a regular life having a blind father. He can't help with homework, Can't give her a have a ride to school, He can't see how often her face falls when she lies to him. Of course she has her Uncle Foggy and Aunt Karen but (Y/N) feels like to much of a burden until the one and only Frank Castle comes into her life and seems to be more of a father figure  then Matt ever was.

Your (E/C) eyes slowly open to the sun peeking through the curtains. The sound of cars and people going about their day is heard. You look over at your alarm clock to it reading 8:20 AM. 'Oh no... I slept in!' You suddenly sit straight up throwing the comforter off of you and dash to the open living and kitchen area, your eyes darting around. 

Your father Matt Murdock is no where to be seen and you let out a sigh. "Of course he is gone..." You grumble as you go into the bathroom and look in the mirror. Your (H/L) dark brown hair is sticking in all different directions, your eyes have bags under them, and you feel like death. You were never a morning person but you dealt with it for the slight chance you could get a few seconds to spend with your old man but of course he always seems to escape you. You pick up your tooth brush and run water on it then put tooth paste on it and run water over that. (There is no other way of brushing your teeth if you don't do exactly that you are a monster.) You had this routine. You would make breakfast, Then you would brush your teeth, take a shower, hang around in your room with the towel wrapped around you until you felt like getting dressed, then you would brush your hair and get ready for school. Since it is the weekend however you didn't feel the need to make breakfast. 'If dad stayed true to his word we might actually have donuts for breakfast.' The lazy train has just pulled into the station  as you threw on your favorite pair of clean pjs and walked out to the living room and sat on the couch. You sit there for a good few minutes until you feel to antsy to stay still and stand up again. You glance over at the small round table seeing the empty plate from last nights food your dad ate. You decide to pick it up and begin washing dishes... Which lead to sweeping... And then organizing... Which lead to cleaning the whole place.

             You were wiping down the coffee table when you hear the front door open. "(Y/N) I'm home!" Matt calls out from the front door. The smell of the beloved baked goods in his hand wafting through the air. "Hey daddio! Whatcha got there?" You say peeking your head around the corner to see your dad placing his cane against the wall with this left hand and holding the donuts in his right as he guides himself into the main living space. "Oh nothing really... Just the best breakfast ever!" He says holding up the box of donuts which you snatch out of his hand and make a mad dash over to the couch and set the delectable donuts down on the newly cleaned coffee table. "Thank you Thank you Thank you!" You say in excitement. "Oh come on (Y/N)... You dare steal from a blind man leave some for me." He says making his way over to the couch sitting next to you. "Fine, fine you can have some but the glazed and Strawberry filled ones are mine!" You says picking one up and taking a bite out of it savoring every bite. Matt chuckles. "Alright fine." He says as he starts eating his own.

           There is a small silence as you both finish your first donut. "So how is school going?" Your dad asks. "Its okay nothing to special going on... How is work?" You ask. "Work is work... you know how it is." He says taking a bite out of another donut. You scoff "Yeah totally."  You grumble glaring down at the donuts as you take another one and shove it in your mouth. Matt tips his head to the side slightly looking in your general direction. "Everything okay sweetpea?" He asks sounding very concerned at your tone. "Yeah everything is fine." You say as some crumbs fall from your mouth. "Just didn't get much sleep last night..." What you said wasn't a full lie, you didn't get to much sleep last night. "How is Uncle Foggy?" You asks changing the subject. "Did you guys crack any cases?" There is a smirk on your lips. "Foggy is fine (Y/N). And no we don't "Crack" cases." He says with a laugh. "Oh you know what I mean did you win any? Do you have any new ones? Give me the dets man!" You says scooting closer to him out of excitement. " (Y/N) you know I can't give you that type of information. Its classified. Client privacy." She sighs "Well you must have won something because you were out so late. You were probably with Aunt Karen and Uncle Foggy at Josie's partying it up." You say shutting the box of donuts seeming to have had your fill. " (Y/N) we don't party. That isn't our style you know that." Your dad seems to be getting antsy at all of the remarks you have been making. "No actually I wouldn't know because I'm not exactly allowed to be out of the apartment at night and I'm not allowed at Josie's either. You get to have all the fun." You say with a slightly annoyed  tone. "What is that suppose to mean (Y/N)? What I do for work isn't fun." He says sternly. "Uh huh yeah okay..." You stand up. 

                "What's up with this attitude all of the sudden?" Matt asks. "Nothing is up... I'm on my period!" You say maybe if you say something like that it will change the subject. "Okay okay okay I didn't need to know that... Look I'm sorry. I know you're stressed and so am I. How about you ask one of your friends to hang out and blow off some steam and then maybe later we can go for a walk in the park and go to that deli shop that you like so much or maybe the diner that we use to go to on Sundays after church. Would you like that?" He asks. "Yeah... That would be nice... Thanks dad." You say turning to him and he stands up. "Any time sweetpea" He give a small smile and opens his arms for a hug. You hug him. "I love you dad... And thanks for the donuts" You say with a smile. "Is that an "I love you dad" because of the donuts? Or what?" He asks with a laugh which in turn causes you to laugh as well. " Well you being my sweet treat supplier is a plus maybe you can add that to the "Awesome Dad" resume." You say letting go of him and he ruffles your hair. " Alright I will keep that in mind. You go ahead and call your friends and then tell me where you will be hanging out and for how long. If you still want to go out to eat I want you back by 1:30. What time is it now?" He asks. You quickly run to your room and grab your phone. "Its 10:45!" You shout from your room. "That's plenty of time to hang out with your friends. I hope you have fun! Now go call your friends!" He calls out and he grabs the donuts from the table and sets them on the counter.

           You dial your best friend Jenifer's number and on the second ring she answers. "Hey (Y/N)! Whats up!" Your friend sounds excited. " Nothing much. I was wondering if you would like to hang out. Maybe we can bring Abigail and we can go hang out in that ice cream shop or maybe go and hang out at the bridge like we use to or we can just walk around!" You say excited. "yeah that would be awesome! Where do you want to meet?" You look up slightly thinking "How about my street corner." You ask. "Alrighty I will see you there!" Jenifer says. "Alright bye!" You hang up then start getting dressed.

[misericorsalvator]

So... About 12 miles northeast of Cardiff, right on the banks of the Usk, there’s a city called Newport. It’s been around since Medieval times, Newport, and there’s na a greater testament to that than Newport Castle, built around the 14th century by the Normans. It was a big landmark of Newport, drawing in all sorts curious about its origins until it was closed to the public about a decade ago or so. Left to rot and decay ever since. There’s not much left of the structure anymore. A good bit of it’s crumbled and fallen away over the centuries, but it’s still got two of its towers and, like most castles around these parts, its fair share of urban legends. And a few nights ago, I was sent to investigate one of em.

I didn’t know what I’d find, if anything, but the old lady I’d been told to meet was grabbing onto her old worn-out rosary beads til her wiry knuckles went pale, could see the bones moving under her skin as her hands shook. She looked like she’d seen a ghost-- and a real one, at that. So I went with her from the Riverside Bar and across Newport’s bridge, then down a narrow side street to the right, under the main road proper where two storm drain tunnels go through. I don’t know if there used to be a better way to get in, back in its prime, but all that’s left now’s this half-painted iron fence, tricked out in rust and graffiti, going around what’s left of the castle to keep folk out. 

Like I said, there’s only the two towers now, centuries-old bricks barely holding themselves together around the narrow arches and crumbling windows, and a line of wall that’s connecting them, taken over by overgrowth and moss. Whole place smells of old stone and humidity, in that way where you can feel it sticking to your skin. Or, uh...scales, I suppose.

It’d started getting dark around that point; the old lady wouldn’t stay any longer. Not that I would’ve asked her to. If what she’d been on about on the walk there was true, it’d be better if she was away elsewhere, safe. She told me to be careful, crossed me with her rosary, and I watched her go back up to the main road, where she got in a cab and drove off. With her out of the way and less than an hour of sunlight left, I set up shop in one of the drain tunnels and waited. Won’t lie, I uh...had some doubts. Ghost stories, that’s the sort of thing you hear every day when there’s someplace old and crumbling nearby. And a devout old lady who told me she’d taken me for a demon dressed black like that, well... As I said, had my doubts. 

Turned out I shouldn’t have. It was just like she’d described. Right after sundown, when the last bits of light had faded, I heard this...guttural growl that rattled the loosest stones on the moss-covered wall and echoed down the storm drain I’d holed up in. Couldn’t make out what it was right then, or where it’d come from-- Then the towers shook, like some localized earthquake, and from one of those narrow windows on the wall, I saw a clawed hand reach and grab, and pull itself up until it heaved the rest of its bulbous body out of the river behind the castle. Its sharp claws dug into the stone, damaging it further, until it’d dragged itself up to the tallest of the two towers. It rose to its full height. Must’ve been...three, three and a half meters tall? Twice my size, cleaning off its dusty dark claws on its matted discoloured fur, dragging its battered, torn wings behind it. Never seen anything of its like before. 

I heard people walking, then, on the street above. I’d been following the creature’s path up the wall with my shotgun, packed full of Dragon’s Breath ammo, ready to blow its head off-- but the creature didn’t move. Just...stared at the street, hidden by the dark and the shadows of the castle, and when a car drove by, lighting up the tower, it crouched. Dropped to the floor and out of sight, until the light went away, and bit by bit, it rose again. It hadn’t noticed me. Or, didn’t act like it. Didn’t do much of anything other than stare, hide when it thought some passerby might see it, then stand again, over and over, always watching the street. And I watched it. For hours. 

‘Til the late afternoon gave way to night, the night to midnight, to the early hours of the morn... And when the distant sky started to take on the orange hues of sunrise, the creature finally stirred from its repetitive motions. It stretched its broad back and the atrophied muscles of its wings, licked clean its talons and wiped them on its dried, discoloured fur. Then it turned around, looked at the sun as it peaked its head over the horizon, walked to the edge of the tower with slow, heavy steps that left it shaking in its foundations... and dove over the edge, in a wide arch, landing into the river beyond with splash.

...To this day, I don’t know what the hell it was. Asked around a bit, but no one I could talk to had heard of it. And...I had work to do, so. Didn’t really have time to go chasing ghosts.

@grandpa-dragon

[randomwriteronline]

All things considered, the first visit of the Castle Town had gone in a surprisingly quiet, almost pleasant way.

Warriors looked over and quickly counted the heads chatting idly as each recounted their wanderings through the familiar yet alien streets: six of them, seven with himself. The only ones unaccounted for were Sky and Skull Kid, who he knew had stuck together to see the soldiers (his soldiers, he reminded himself with a tinge of pride in the courage they had shown at his side), and Time, who instead had just gone completely missing.

On one hand, that wasn't a problem. Time was very likely the oldest out of them - although he refused to share his actual age - and one of the widest and tallest too, qualities that made him both perfectly adept to wandering in a town without getting hopelessly lost and also easily identifiable in a crowd of humble average people not dressed in full armor.

On the other hand, it had been a whole day and Time was nowhere to be seen.

So they were rightfully worried.

The earth beneath them began shaking and jumping fiercely, and a series of thunders in quick succession approached the small group at increasing speeds; they all turned, hands flying to their hilts ready to unsheath their swords if necessary, but only gawked in vague shock as their leader by virtue of being the most ancient in terms of years lived sped his way over to them as if he was about to bulldoze them.

"Bad news, boys!" he started off, words jarringly contrasting his jolly tone and amused grin, "I am wanted by the authorities."

"You what?" Twilight begged his pardon, hoping his father figure had suffered from some kind of convoluted Freudian slip.

But immediately several unknown voices made themselves known with a loud crackle of steel and metal smacking against itself, one soldier finally clearing the corner as he shouted while pointing at the tallest blond man "There he is!", and the gang could naught but watch as Time bolted away at the speed of light, rather impressively for a rather large middle aged guy in full bloody armor.

Most of the clanging troops passed right by the group of heroes without so much as looking at them; only one stopped to salute Warriors, who took the opportunity to hold him there for a moment more with a gesture.

"What exactly has that man done to deserve such an intense attempted arrest?" he asked genuinely confused.

The poor guy, clearly a recruit, had mantained his reverent pose as he had embarassedly explained: "He has evaded the judgement General Impa, sir Captain sir. She had instructed him to wait in her official chambers, but he got out through the window, sir."

Warriors looked like he had been slapped across the face.

"Aren't General Impa's official chambers on the third floor of the castle?" he sputtered out.

"Y... Yes, they are, sir," the guy replied, even more embarassed, "He jumped down and we heard him say 'oh fuck my legs', and then we saw him drink a potion to- well, to fix his legs I believe, and he started running when General Impa told him to get back up there, sir."

The captain hid his face in his hands with a sobbing sigh, feeling as if he could have sunk into the earth to evade this new burden forced upon him by the Goddesses.

Behind him, among four horrified looks, Wild and Wind were bent over themselves laughing their asses off.

So much for a quiet, peaceful start.

-

Seeing the Hero of Time emerge in all his glory out of nowhere as he casually climbed over the fence he had materialized behind of, turns out, is something that could feasibly give somebody a heart attack.

None of them did, but Hyrule had been very close to having one.

"Good news, boys!" Time smiled as if he had not been chased around for hours, "I have evaded the authorities."

Warriors waved his fists close to his own face, burning with rage: "I AM the authorities, you large bloody fucking idiot!" he hissed.

The older man swiftly turned around and lifted a leg over the barrier he had first appeared behind, clearly ready to get back on the run - at which point several hands grabbed him more or less angrily and pulled him back.

"DON'T fucking run away you--!" the captain hissed, slapping his shoulder repeatedly. "What compelled you to jump off a window? From the third floor of a damned castle?!"

"Didn't want to get scolded."

The scarfed man replied by making a loud whine and several contorting motions with his entire body very reminiscent of a stoat's war dance right before it bites the face off of its opponent.

He resorted to kicking the air and shushing an excessively amused Wild before he could make a comment.

"For... What, exactly?" he asked, shakily.

"Slammed a bench in a soldier's face."

Warriors had to swivel around before he stabbed the other out of frustration; he foind himself then having to revolve in place a few times to evade similarly ill-intentioned urges directed towards the wheezing Legend and Wind, plus a slightly less immediate desire for mellow violence against the cook's ecstatic grin.

Twilight squatted on the ground with his face in his hands, mortified to say the least, Hyrule patting his shoulders as if to offer him strength.

"Sir." Four broke the vague silence, "What in the four corners of hell."

"Skull Kid asked me to." Time replied.

From his successor came a loud sob.

"I would kill for him."

"That doesn't mean you should!" the traveler shouted at him.

The much wider man tightened himself in his shoulders: "The guy was making him uncomfortable," he just explained.

"But a bench?!" Warriors cried out.

"It was the closest thing available."

"I am having a stroke," Legend coughed between chuckling tears, entire body sustained on his knees, Wind laying at his feet howling as his stomach was wracked by laughter, "This has to be a stroke."