#made myself fall in love with a character by drawing them once

[s-darling-art]

This just in, I love Rose Wilson

[captain-joongz]

The moon hangs heavy; Dragonheart ch.2

Pairing: OT7 dragon!BTS x knightess!reader

Genre: dragon rider AU, high fantasy, soulmate adjacent, slight enemies to lovers (if you squint), angst, fluff and humour, eventual smut

Chapter summary: The depth of mistrust between dragons and humans is tried when Jungkook attempts to welcome a new addition to his life. Meanwhile his rider fights her own demons in her own home.

Word count: cca 13.8k

Warnings: there's pov switches beware!! first person is reader pov, third person is bangtan pov!!, a bit of toxic family, slight angst, otherwise not much

Series masterlist | Previous Part | Next part

Lore | Dictionary | Character studies

A/N: alrighty folks! here we go, the next chapter of dragonheart is here! things are picking up and now we'll spend a lot more time with all of the dragons! i always love to hear what you think, so don't hesitate to let me know! i hope you enjoy yourselves <3

I couldn’t even remember when I first started putting together the plan to dismantle this empire brick by fucking brick, but I’ve carried hatred against it for as long as I knew what an empire was. Maybe it was my father’s fault, maybe I saw his ways and I wanted to go against that, maybe it was because ever since I was small he dragged me with him between all these dinners and balls and banquets, and I saw all that depravity, all that mold, the rotten heart of the beast.

Wars, suffering, endless toil and loss, and for what? For spoiled nobility and cruel kings? For an empire that saw its people as endless supplies of weapons in battles that they didn’t want and that brought back nothing? The Li Dynasty in its thousand years of reign only brought terror onto the land, into the hearts of its people, and onto anyone who ever dared to go against it.

Once upon a time, this was nothing more than a small struggling kingdom, Wuyun nothing more than a little town with barely a fortress, and now it spanned across half the continent. It devoured everything around it and squeezed it dry, pulled it into its machine of death. War after a war, battle after a battle, until there was nothing left to conquer, but still wanting for more.

Around us kingdoms rose and fell, and the only reason Gong-li didn’t also hit its expiration date was the endless exploitation of the dragonkind. If the emperor didn’t have them to fall back onto, if dragons weren’t too dangerous to fight against and other still surviving lands weren’t too afraid to invite war with such beasts against them, this dynasty would have died a long time ago.

But with such powerful dangerous weapons (it does pain me to say that, but unfortunately that is what dragons have become) in the hands of children (because that’s what we were in their eyes), we still sat at the top of the food chain and became practically impossible to dismount.

Hubris was a terrible thing. And it would always lead to a downfall. I vowed myself to be that downfall.

Tightening my training attire one more time and giving myself last look in the silver mirror, I gave myself a firm nod and left to join the family at breakfast.

As soon as I entered the dining area, my father gave me a curt smile and gestured to the seat to his left side. My brother was sitting to his right, silently eating and reading through a stack of documents. Unlike the older male, he barely even acknowledged my presence and continued on expressionlessly in his task.

I tensely returned the smile and folded myself to the dark comfortable pillow, immediately hungrily digging in. The General lightly patted me on my shoulder, his good mood reflected in the way he happily ate his food and interacted with us calmly, which made me fight the scowl off my face to not accidentally aggravate him.

Ever since I returned from the banquet, I’d been in my father’s good graces. Somehow word has already travelled to him that I had been around the Bangtan thunder and I returned to a suspiciously pleased father sitting in the drawing room area waiting for me with praises. He’s been more open to me since, now that he had a chance to peacock about my accomplishments again, and it was putting me on edge. I was more used to being on his wrong side, and through the years I learnt that it was safer to skirt the grey area, as he tended to be more infuriated when we disappointed him after we’d “been so good”.

“You’ll come to the castle with me tomorrow,” the man simply stated, in a manner that revealed he was used to being obeyed. It took me a moment of silence to realise he was speaking to me and not my brother, and I looked up surprised, meeting his dark eyes.

“Yes, father,” slipped the automatic answer through my lips, “Why am I needed?” I needed to ride this good wave for as long as it was possible, so I’d also been playing it safe with him and was being more agreeable than usual. If he thought it suspicious, he said nothing about it.

“You will meet the emperor. He’s curious about Bangtan’s new rider.” The older man satisfiedly licked his lips, like a lazy spoiled cat getting cream, while I froze in my seat with a spoon halfway to my lips. Dread like no other gripped me, spreading through my body in cold currents and turning my stomach to lead. I almost felt a little dizzy with the impact of the statement.

“Yes, father,” this time it came out only a shaky whisper, but the man didn’t care, didn’t look my way again, only nodded and left us siblings sitting there.

When I finally managed to tear my gaze away from the spot our father occupied just a moment ago, I looked straight into my brother’s blank eyes. He regarded me wordlessly for a few long seconds and then stood up as well, food left unfinished on his plate.

“Don’t do anything stupid, please,” he muttered and walked away.

I looked after him almost mournfully, but in the end forced myself to get back to my own breakfast. A lump in my throat made it somewhat harder to swallow, but I did my best to push those feelings away and not dwell on how my brother’s dismissal was always a bigger gut punch than our father’s.

I didn’t remember the older man as ever being gentle, but the memories from my childhood, before we were both ruined by the General, plagued me every time I was faced with this new cold version of the once happy boy. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. How far into our hearts did our ruin reach?

When finished, I quickly moved through the house to collect all needed belongings and got on my way to the training grounds.  The nervous shake in my hands started up again, and in panic I tried to go over some strategies in my head over how I wanted the noon to go. Chances were it wasn’t going to go according to any of them, but it didn’t hurt to try.

Jungkook was already waiting by the training area, leaning into the wooden pole fencing off the sandy duel ring where one on one sword training usually took place. Coming closer, I had to temp down some evident excitement suddenly coursing through my veins, and I internally scolded myself. Now wasn’t the time to lose it, I had to keep it together.

Just as I was about to shout my greeting, I realised there was actually another person with him. His dark blue hair shined under the sun, and the silvery scales on his beautiful face made the light reflect in a way that almost seemed to be too stunning to be real. By the blush that immediately arrived on my face and made me stutter in the light jog, I knew I was once again in the company of the one and only Jimin.

But out of the corner of my eye I saw another presence.

Jungkook already spotted me and waved me over. There were some awkward greetings and smiles before uncomfortable silence stretched around us. Jimin was watching me with a spark of amused curiosity, but I saw a shadow of something darker in his gaze. Something mistrustful and wary. Which, dragons had every right to be apprehensive at first, but something about him put me on edge, like it was about more than just the usual gap between our kinds.

The third person finally joined us, jogging happily to us with a wide smile stretching across his face. I saw both of the dragons’ faces immediately relax and soften, and I realised it must be another member of their thunder.

With a wildly beating heart and clammy palms I fully took him in, still feeling a little star-struck in the presence of such a powerful pack. His hair was wavy, falling into his eyes and around his ears in artful arches, the sun reflecting powerfully off of the copper reddish colour of the locks. I noticed some beads weaved into them as they bounced with his movement. But the most prominent feature were the beautiful horns sprouting from his hairline – they were curved back slightly, following the shape of his head, and antler-like. They were as long as the top of his head, cutting off above the crown of it. I tried not to gawk at them too obviously, but they were beautiful, so I probably failed miserably. Not that he seemed to mind.

His lithe form was brimming with energy and the man seemed to have a joyous personality, face shining with a smile and eyes full of mirth. I understood immediately why just looking at him set the boys more at ease, even I felt myself getting more comfortable and loose under the rays of his happiness.

“Hobi-hyung!” Jungkook shouted out, nearly vibrating and full of toothy grins. Based on his reaction (to which I didn’t secretly smile at all, I was cold as stone definitely) it was probable that the older dragon decided to drop in unannounced.

“Hello younglins,” the man greeted us with, extending the expression to me as well, which… fair. His smiley face turned to me, eyes scanning me head to toe with a calculating gaze, a sliver of seriousness surfacing through.

“My name is Hoseok. Nice to meet you, potential rider,” he introduced himself in the end. Whatever he saw when looking at me, I nervously hoped it wouldn’t make him get Jungkook to reject the bond.

With anxious eyes flitting around, I bowed to him which he reciprocated and then shook his offered hand, both of ours gloves firmly on. Jungkook and Jimin were both watching us with sharp eyes and bated breath, Jungkook hopeful and Jimin with that strange darkness I couldn’t fully place.

“Nice to meet you too, Sir Hoseok,” my voice wavered slightly, but I hoped they’d disregard it as usual nervousness when people met them, and wouldn’t read too much into it. That they wouldn’t find out just how desperate I was for this to work out.

“No sir here, young mistress, dragons don’t get titles,” he said it teasingly, but a little bitterness still wormed its way into his voice. I swallowed, finally taking my hand back after realising I’d been shaking it for a suspiciously long time and gave him my own wonky smile.

“I will call you Hoseok-ssi then,” I insisted, carefully toeing the line between polite and smarmy, “My name is Kang Y/N, of the northern clan.” I saw clearly how Hoseok tried and failed to keep his face neutral, how his smile froze and his eyebrows pulled together in a frown the moment he realised what family I belonged to. I tried not to let it hurt me. Tried not to panic that this was the end for me, and he’d never allow me near his thunder again.

“Neither of you rascals mentioned she is General Kang’s daughter,” he gritted through his teeth and stiff grin, eyes shooting daggers towards the two younger dragons. Both of them watched him with wide eyes, guilty and innocent all at once, trying to buy themselves some leeway.

I had no idea whether they didn’t mention on purpose or whether they forgot, but I had to quickly get on top of this.

“You know my father, huh?” I chuckled awkwardly, jumping in panicked before anything else could be said, “He does have quite the reputation.”

When Hoseok turned his gaze back to me, it was a lot less warm even though he was still grinning at me. I felt the shiver run through me at the change, my instincts suddenly kicking in now that he looked significantly less friendly.

“I fear there isn’t a single person in this city, maybe even in this empire, who doesn’t know your father,” came his stilted reply. And it made sense really, all of the dragons must have known my father for all his life. They’ve probably had to deal with him ever since he himself entered the Academy some 30 years ago. Yikes.

What does one say in a situation like this? Sorry about that? I would have killed him years ago if I didn’t need him alive still?

Another bout of extremely awkward silence blanketed over us, and with every second stretching I felt the dread pull me deeper and deeper into the mud, mind racing and trying to come up with a way to save this. My chest hurt from how fast my heart beat and I felt the panic licking at the seams of my mind, but in the end the atmosphere was saved by Jungkook himself.

“Don’t be too scared, hyung just has a personal vendetta against him,” the young dragon suddenly blurted out, immediately flushing as Jimin barely covered how he burst out laughing. Hoseok also froze and in wonder I saw some of the coldness melt away into embarrassment, the man rubbing at his neck awkwardly.

“You shouldn’t be saying things like that in front of her,” he whined lightly, and it was both a tease and a warning, but finally I shook myself out of my stupor and laughed as well.

“Don’t worry about it, as his daughter I’m more than used to people having grudges against him,” I said amicably, playing it as cool as I could with my hands shaking and tongue stuttering me up, “as I said – he has quite the reputation.”

Hoseok laughed politely, but his gaze was stuck on Jungkook, promising some kind of a dressing down later when they’re alone, which the young dragon steadily ignored with an easy smile, but in a way that made me queasy. It was foolish of me to forget the weight of tossing my surname around like that.

And I knew that tomorrow I’d meet the emperor and he’d give me his blessing, and then the thunder would have to accept me as Jungkook’s rider whether they wanted to or not. And I wouldn’t blame them for hating me.

“Hyung’s just stopping by,” Jungkook stated to me, turning from the red-head’s burning stare, “He had some of his own errands to run. He works with the infirmary.” It felt both like a weak attempt to ease my nerves and a careful nudge in the direction of the dragon’s abilities, as it was considered rude to ask.

He was a healer then, a nature magick gifted dragon. I took him in once more, ignoring the way he was now more wary of me and concluded that it fit him very well. In those brief few moments he didn’t yet know me he seemed to be the kind of person to heal you just by their presence, and stupidly I felt a pang of sadness at having lost that, no matter how fake of an attempt to be friendly it was.

Instead I turned to the tattooed dragon and smiled, falling down the polite small-talk rabbit hole for a few more sentences before Jimin took a seat at the top of the wooden fence and Hoseok eventually jogged a few steps away to lean against a stone archway of the building nearby to feel the relief of the shadow.

I was stuck in the blaring sun with Jungkook, already feeling the uncomfortable heat and sweat gathering under my black training clothes. It was hard to gauge what was Jungkook’s tolerance, but he seemed fine with a pep in his step and an easy grin on his face. I would almost call him excited.

He led us inside the ring, but no swords were in sight, leaving me to wonder what he had in mind. We stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Jungkook looked increasingly more and more amused, watching me struggle in the silence and unsure of what was in store for me, and admittedly I did want to smack him a little for it, but I swallowed the urge down with a little crooked grin.

Then suddenly the dragon flew into action. My first instinct was to bring my arms up in defence, expecting him to try and land a blow. Meetings like these usually consisted of some more fighting and duels to allow the dragons to check the strength and abilities of their potential bondeds, but Jungkook didn’t do any of that sort. He started warming up with jumping jacks.

A little confused, I caught onto the agenda and started imitating him, casting unsure glances towards the two packmates that were watching us jump in the middle of a sandy ring, but their expressions gave me nothing. The pack probably must have gone through this specific thing millions of times and have since settled into a routine.

“Do you know what my magick is?” he asked suddenly, mischief dripping off of him like this was a cheeky first date and not a military affair. I shook my head, but as the silence stretched and his eyes watched me expectantly, he was clearly waiting for some sort of verbal explanation.

“I only knew of Jimin-ssi’s powers,” even through clearing my throat my voice still came out scratchy and unsure, gaze nervously flitting to the mentioned dragon to catch whether he was upset or not. Jimin still gave me nothing, silvery blue eyes just as stormy and closed off as before.

I reasoned with myself that he was less flirty and playful because this was a serious matter, but he still unnerved me, and I faced similar looking rejection way too many times to not immediately recognise the beginning stages of it. He displayed mistrust beyond the usual reasons, and I had no idea why.

“I-I know you have a fire dragon in your thunder. And an atmokinetic,” the stutter came from me scrambling to keep up with Jungkook when he dropped to the ground and seamlessly transitioned into a squatting without any warning, but it was no less embarrassing. He hummed. Jimin and Hoseok looked on. I sweated. It was a mess.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly public knowledge what most of their powers were. Since the curse was first laid, dragons have learnt to be quite secretive when it came to the full extent of their special abilities and tended to choke the information so that only what they wanted was known. As such, I was only sure of three of their abilities – Namjoon’s fiery magick that often came into the public eye during battles, Jimin’s water magick that he was known for due to the worrying line of admirals who liked to bond him temporarily to gain upper hand in naval skirmishes and Yoongi’s darker and scarier powers that allowed him to bring rains and storms and pull black clouds and strong winds to us that made all our days just the more wearier.

There were rumours of course – whispers about a dangerous dragon capable of mind control and manipulation, or tales about one who shone as bright as a dying star, as the sun itself, who commanded light in a way that both warmed and hurt. But those were just that, rumours. I had no names to those, and the thunder certainly wasn’t forthcoming with anything, just as the emperor liked to control what we knew about them.

Bangtan was powerful and mysterious and that was it. That’s where it started and ended.

Jimin’s sudden chuckle brought me back to a pouting Jungkook doing squats like his life depended on it while I did my best to keep up.

“Nobody knows what our baby does yet,” he teased him, “Don’t worry Kook, you’ll put the seed of terror into all their hearts by the end of this year.” It was the kind of mocking that wasn’t meant to hurt and flew between people who actually liked each other and knew the limits of other’s senses of humour, and I curiously watched as Jungkook played up the pout even more before bursting into a toothy grin.

Then it caught up to me what the blue-haired dragon said and I stopped dead in my tracks, shocking Jungkook into freezing too. There was a suspicion at my heart that would explain everything that was happening right now, and I didn’t hesitate to speak it into the universe.

“Wait… is this your first year participating in the unit?” I blurted out and saw Hoseok tense up out of the corner of my eye. Jungkook spiritedly nodded and I felt both relief and horror.

“Kookie’s never had a rider,” Jimin supplied, really speaking to me for the first time since I arrived, “He’s only reached adulthood sixty years ago.”

A myriad of questions suddenly had answers in my mind – Jungkook fumbling the polite traditions at the banquet, the overprotective hovering that Jimin and Hoseok were exhibiting right now, the combative energy both of them lowkey exuded while Jungkook himself was a ball of excitement. Stepping into the unknown, for the first time.

At the bottom of it all was a huge boulder falling off of my chest at the thought that I wasn’t completely alone in this frightening and exhilarating new experience we had in front of us. Now, looking at us both be clueless and anxious and eager, I found myself relaxing considerably. We could be stupid about this together, and that was a relieving thought.

Jungkook was staring daggers into his hyung and whining that he was more adult than he made it sound, but his ears were red. Hoseok in the background fondly watched on, and suddenly I felt like too much of an intruder.

Clearing my throat, I called for his attention again and asked: “So what is your power?”

Jungkook’s big dark innocent eyes were back at me and he straightened up, only to start doing lunges. I scrambled to follow his lead, warming up with him with no idea what he was planning to do today.

I wondered whether he had any other potentials, but thinking back I haven’t seen him interact with any other of the first years. I hoped that whatever trials he prepared for me, I’d be able to successfully get through them.

“My magick is elemental,” the tatted dragon started explaining, “much like Jimin-hyung’s. But mine is earth.” I itched to ask more questions and get more details out of him, but I didn’t want to overstep. Jungkook may have looked like he’d gladly answer everything, but generally dragons didn’t like it and didn’t think it proper to probe, and I didn’t want to aggravate the two high strung hyungs stepping around the training grounds and watching their younger packmate with hawk eyes.

I watched them out of the corner of my eyes, and their warning gazes were already glued to me, but Jungkook looked at me with expectant eyes just begging to be asked for more details. Sweating bullets, I swallowed my silent tears and opened my dumb mouth. This is going to be more challenging than I thought, but in a way I could have never anticipated.

“How does that work?” I gritted through my teeth, trying to ignore Hoseok’s narrowed eyes or Jimin’s outright stare. Jungkook, though, brightened and changed back to jumping jacks for ease of talking.

“Much like hyung manipulates water, I can manipulate earth,” he begun cheerily, “tear it apart, tear chunks out and throw them, cause a chasm to open or small-scale earthquakes. I can also work with and manipulate stones and ore, not just dirt.” I gave him a wide-eyed stare, surprised to learn the extent of his powers, though some things were still a little vague. But I didn’t dare to ask more questions, I’ve already tried their patience too much.

“It also means he has tough skin. Impenetrable. And it makes him very strong, like a boulder,” to my surprise it was Jimin who volunteered this information, his curious eyes flittering cautiously between me, Jungkook and Hoseok still standing a few steps away.

“There’s a downside though,” Jungkook continued, “every power has its downside. Like a weakness. It’s tied into the nature of our magick. Like fire magick’s weakness would be water and ice.” The horror that seeped into Hoseok’s face quickly clued me into the fact that Jungkook just shared something he wasn’t supposed to say.

“Yes, but that isn’t something we need to talk about right now,” Jimin jumped in, shaken and panicked, throwing the youngest dragon a stare that could only be interpreted as a warning. Unsure, I stopped and glanced between the three dragons locked into some sort of a silent battle. After a few beats I realised they must have been talking telepathically, as that was something mated dragons could do.

“She’ll have to know anyway, as my bonded,” Jungkook said finally, firmly looking from his hyungs and offering me a smile. Shakily, I attempted to returned it, but it was hard with the burning I felt from the other’s stares. I couldn’t even fully process the fact that Jungkook basically announced that we would bond, the statement barely registering in my anxious mind.

What in the hell was going on?

Then Jungkook took off, only looking behind to beckon me as he started on a lap around the training grounds. Giving one last nervous glance to the two tense dragons, I took a deep breath and ran off after him.

Jungkook was fast and it took me a moment to catch up to him, but after a lap or two we settled into a comfortable pace side by side, and I slowly came to realise what this was. Endurance test. He wanted to know how strong and trained I was. With one less unknown to worry about, I fell into step with him and steeled myself to keep up for as long as I was capable of.

The silence was comfortable between us, a nice change from the charged atmosphere around the older dragons, but I couldn’t blame them for being so cautious, especially since it seemed Jungkook’s enthusiasm was sometimes faster than the well-earned distrust towards humans that every dragon harboured deep inside their heart. I dreaded to think of someone else in my position, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of his true earnest nature.

But even I was a risk – even I could misstep, hurt him. Even I could end up being a danger to him and his thunder. I had to make sure I wouldn’t.

“Have you ever met a dragon before?” Jungkook’s quiet voice pulled me out of my troubling thoughts. It was an unusual question, one that I had no idea how to interpret the intentions behind. What was he really asking?

“Well, yes... I’ve been coming to the capital with father for quite some time,” I drawled out, weighing in my mind on how much to share, “but I really just saw them around. Didn’t really speak to anyone, I wasn’t allowed to.” Painful memories of a smiling brown-haired man resurfaced in my mind, just how they so often did ever since he left. I chanced a look at the tatted dragon, and he watched me like he knew there was more. He waited whether I would continue. A wave of strange unfamiliar emotion rose inside of me, and I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand. I was so confused. But then I spoke anyway because it felt right to do so.

“When I was little,” the words slowly trickled out of me, like I had to use force to push them out, “maybe eight or nine, a dragon-knight and his bonded came to our fief. They stayed with us for a little over a year. The knight was a merry man, full of laughs and jokes, and his dragon was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” The young dragon smiled gently and gestured for me to keep talking as we ran laps. I started becoming a little breathless now that I had a story to tell, but I pushed through.

“I spent a lot of time with him, to me he was the manifestation of all things magical and fantastical,” the soft laugh that tumbled out of me surprised me, but I carried on, “He took to teaching me. Brought me out to forests and meadows, taught me about magick and nature, about dragons, about kindness to living things and cooperating with the natural world. He always called it ‘the old philosophy’. That this is how dragons used to teach their young.”

Looking back at it now with the knowledge I have, it wasn’t that hard to understand why he was such a thorn in the emperor’s eye. Why he was running away from the palace, trying his luck away from the capital. It was rotten fate that he ended up on a land that belonged to my father out of all people.

Next to me Jungkook hummed, reminding me of his presence, and suddenly the exercise caught up with me and I realised I would need a break soon to catch my breath. The young dragon seemed fine though, as he jogged on by my side with a soft smile.

“What was his name?” he asked, with reverence I haven’t heard from him yet, the quiet wonder at this mythical teacher from my childhood visible in his eyes, and it warmed me to see it. With a smile of my own I answered: “Hwan.” As simple as that.

I didn’t tell him his real name. I couldn’t yet. My teacher was a controversial character, a forbidden topic, and these dragons were most definitely aware of him, as his sudden disappearance happened only something over a decade ago. He was the first dragon in centuries to openly go against the throne, and the first person I’ve ever met that was part of a resistance against the empire. Hwan was the name he went by while he stayed with us, when he pretended to be human while going to the town’s market with me.

I’ve already learned from my mistake once. I wouldn’t reveal his name until I was sure it was safe.

“I don’t remember a dragon with that name,” Jungkook thought out loud, contemplative expression taking over his youthful face, “do you know what his magick is?”

“I’m not sure where he is currently,” was all I answered with, shutting down the conversation with firm gentleness. Thankfully the man understood. He gave me one long curious silent look, eyes taking me in from head down to my toes, something a little unreadable settling into them. But an air of softness remained, one that made me comfortable in his presence against all facts and reason.

“Let’s go try horse riding now,” was all he finally said, a little more mischief bleeding into his features, “last time you barely even rode. I need to know you can keep yourself in the saddle.”

With a nod I followed after him, silently musing on whether the bond manifested in things deeper than just compatibility for magick. Things that would explain why the pull towards the younger dragon exceeded reason and strayed into the territory of complicated feelings of comfort and safety.

Jimin shuffled nervously right next to his hyung, shuddering under the barrage of negative emotions flowing into him from Hoseok’s side of the bond.

“You shouldn’t encourage him so much, you know,” Hoseok chided him softly, even though the water dragon felt the weight of his hyungs fears and anxieties. But he didn’t think he was deserving of a scolding nevertheless.

“What do you mean? I barely even did anything,” Jimin grumbled under his breath, eyes trained on the duo running side by side by the fence, one ear listening into the conversation and heart enquiringly checking on Jungkook’s emotions. Hope, curiousness, tender joy. All that shined through, and he knew that his hyung felt it too. And didn’t like it one bit. “He spilled everything all on his own,” Jimin added for good measure.

He subconsciously rubbed at the tender skin of his wrist, mind going back to the night of the banquet, as it so often did these days. He couldn’t shake off the buzz of the bond as it shocked through him with such intensity for a moment he thought she touched him and not Kookie. Sometimes, it would still run through his nervous system like a phantom pain, even days later.

“Kookie’s excited about his first bond,” Hoseok said, but his voice carried no happiness that would be normally present during such occasions, that was all taken away by the circumstance of the situation, “but this whole thing is rubbing me the wrong way. I just don’t want him to get hurt through this. Bonds have a way of influencing you, and especially the first ones can feel quite intense. I don’t want him to be blinded by it to what might be happening here.”

Jimin looked to his hyung with alarm, heart painfully contracting under the wave of freezing cold dread seeping through his bones.

“You think there’s an ulterior motive to the bond,” the younger dragon meant it as a question, but at that point it was useless to ask. Hoseok obviously thought something else was going on under all this, and the possibility of it lit some sort of primal fear in Jimin. Bonds used to be a sacred thing, thinking that they could be stripped from all their beauty and used so villainously, it never failed to tear him apart. Never failed to remind him of all that was taken from them.

“Think about it,” Hoseok stated seriously, eyes similarly glued to Jungkook and watching his smiling face with a hint of despair, “We’ve never felt a bond similar to this one. Neither the hyungs nor Joonie have ever heard of something similar. She’s a daughter of a man as close to the throne as one can be. Is it really such a stretch to believe that he may have tampered with the bond?”

“But would that even be possible?” Jimin asked, voice quiet as the horrifying feasibility sunk into his mind, “It can’t, right?” That would change everything. It would take away more than they’ve already lost – it would warp the very nature of their souls. Haven’t they already destroyed enough? Would they go as far as to mess with natural magical bonds?

“He’s already done so much and he continues to want even more,” Hoseok argued firmly, no traces of the smiling man left in his demeanour, “I have no idea what Kangdae’s end goal is, but if there’s someone capable of this, it’s him. And she’s in his closest circle, her father serves him more than he serves his own family.” No matter how many times Jimin heard the emperor’s name flow out so effortlessly in conversation, he still got an uncomfortable feeling. His hyungs using it like that didn’t feel right – it made him too scared for them, like they were committing a grave sin. Yet they never budged.

Looking back to the young duo, a chilling sensation gripped Jimin’s insides. Could this be a trap? What would even be the purpose of manipulating a bond like that? Was she originally not meant for them?

“I worry for him too,” Jimin muttered finally, “We’ll have to keep an eye on him.” The things they needed to keep close eyes on just kept stacking up and Jimin was about to lose his mind if this continued. The threat hanging over all their heads somehow felt more present than ever. Not even the thought of his all-knowing hyungs made him feel better. Quite the opposite – feeling their quiet dismay, their wide eyes and hushed whispers when they thought they wouldn’t notice, it drove Jimin even more wild with panic.

“I wish we could consult the ancients on this,” the blue-haired dragon whispered quiet enough that had his companion not paid attention, he’d miss it, “the closest we got to that is Jin-hyung and he’s as lost as we are.” Hoseok’s tiny fond chuckle lifted some weight off of Jimin’s shoulders, the younger dragon turning to his hyung with a smile.

“Don’t let him hear that or we’ll never hear the end of it,” the healer teased softly, reaching out to mess with Jimin’s hair. Silence settled around them, but it was oppressive in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time, not around his mates. He shivered with it, tried to withstand it, but couldn’t without the warmth his lovers offered.

Reaching out for his hyung’s hand, they shuffled around until Hoseok was protectively holding him curled into his side as they both watched on, hearts heavy and minds racing a mile in a minute.

Jimin noted to himself all that she shared, vowing to ask Jin-hyung later about that dragon she spoke so highly of. He hoped, and Jungkook might never believe him this, but he really hoped she wasn’t deceiving them. Not because of her, but for Jungkook’s sake. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if this ended up hurting their youngest packmate.

Bonds cut deep, especially when they ended badly. Yoongi-hyung still carried those scars in him to prove that. He himself knew the pain of bonds that were forced on him – how oppressive they were to his own mind and heart, how every time he was used for a battle and then discarded, his soul wept for the loss of a bond that never really existed in the first place.

For all their might and power, dragons were tender beings. Easily swayed by shiny trinkets and a little kindness, they got attached so readily, and felt grief deeply when everything died in the end and they carried on.

Whether she betrayed him or died, that wound would stay with Jungkook for the rest of his nigh eternal life, and he so desperately wished he could protect him from that.

Jimin, in that moment of all-consuming terrifying despair and helplessness, knew he would give everything, even his own life, to ensure the crash and fall of the empire just to tear Jungkook out of the way of a sure tragedy in the form of his new potential rider.

“Has Taehyungie had any vision about this?” Hoseok’s voice suddenly cut through his spiralling thoughts, pulling Jimin from his little circle of doom, “Last I asked him he said he can’t see anything.” The blue-haired man thought back to the day before, to his younger mate with his dark red, heavy curls falling into his eyes, the worried frustrated expression on his face translating into the wobbling lip when he came to Jimin absolutely shattered that he can’t help his hyungs in any way, the fear dripping so thick off of him the water dragon almost tasted it in the air. Tae was devastated at his own inability to induce a vision on the young knightess, even though he privately shared with Jimin that it didn’t feel completely wrong, only that he wasn’t supposed to know yet (which according to him happened sometimes, but it still felt awful). Nonetheless it only added to the unsureness that hung about them when it came to this bond.

“No, he’s trying really hard but can’t see anything,” Jimin whispered towards his hyung, even though he was pretty sure Jungkook wasn’t listening he’d still rather he didn’t hear this on accident, “Please don’t ask him about it, hyung. He’s feeling terrible.”

Hoseok gave him a sad smile and nodded, his hands tightening on the younger worried man as he himself sunk into the troubling thoughts. Jimin hated the sudden air of uncertainty hanging over their heads that irritatingly everyone except for their youngest seemed to feel.

Jungkook kept his oblivious care-free aura while everyone around him panicked about the future of the pack, even future of dragons at all. His hyungs were running themselves thin trying to find out what this meant while he sat around the town house and talked about how he couldn’t wait for the bonding ritual.

Jimin was as angry with him as he was worried for him. But only time would tell which way this would go. And deep in his heart he knew that even if the world was falling apart, his hyungs would never let them get hurt.

Squeezing Hobi’s hand back, he finally allowed himself to relax into the warm man’s embrace.

Maybe somewhere in this country still were children who felt comforted and encouraged by their father’s presence by their side, but I certainly wasn’t one of them. The stifling aura of him hovering behind me put me on edge, the threat of ‘impress him or else’ hanging in the air over us. Father would never say it outright, no, that wasn’t his style. But it was always written into him, into his features, into the firm grip of his hand on my arm when he wanted me to check myself.

Brother stood next to him looking bored, doing his best to miss all of my pointed stares, so I redirected my attention back to the gold-plated doors in front of me, waiting for them to open and invite us in.

The emperor sometimes liked to keep people waiting. If it was just my father, he’d be let in immediately, but since it was our entire family he felt the need to show power and let us stand outside for a while. I felt the mounting wave of frustration and annoyance, pursing my lips together to keep myself in line. None of us spoke and it made the time tick by even slower. Two stripes guards flanked the door on each side and nervously evaded our eyes, no doubt wishing they were anywhere else than in front of the increasingly more displeased old general.

Then finally, after what felt like a whole hour, the door slowly creaked open and I suddenly found myself on the forefront of our little group, first to be seen, first to move and first to speak. It was unnerving.

It took a little shove to my lower back (I wasn’t sure which one of the men it was, but it was effective) to make me move into the room, and I did so sluggishly – focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and not on the man sitting leisurely on a sofa at the centre of the room. Subconsciously I straightened and adjusted my black and silver uniform, even though he didn’t look up. He actually looked like he couldn’t care less and for a moment I pondered over how my father managed decades of sucking up to a person like that. My patience would have run out so fast I’d be executed before my pillow even had the chance to permanently dent into the shape of my head.

Even though I knew the emperor was a few years older than my brother, he looked young, maybe even younger than me. He didn’t stand, and he didn’t have to, but we still kneeled on the little carpet and bowed to his uninterested form. It was humiliating and rage inducing, my hands curling into tight fists as if I was contemplating lunging at him and punching him. I wasn’t, I just wanted to go home mainly.

The emperor asked us to meet us in one of his salons that he sometimes used for official visits, so instead of the throne room we found ourselves in a pompously decorated room with a theme that I could only describe as “rubies”. The man himself sat on a sofa that was on a little platform, step above everyone else, and he stood out as a sore thumb with his golden aura in the sea of reds and crimsons.

I twitched towards one of the sofas, but a hand on my wrist immediately pulled me back into place, and so we just silently stood there some more, waiting for some command or a simple acknowledgement, but the golden man kept wordlessly scribbling something onto a stack of documents. After the fourth line I felt the frustration return with full force (and then some more), gritting my teeth as we humiliatingly waited with heads hung low in respect.

Then the sound stopped. The man clapped twice and everything set into motion. I was pulled by my father to a sofa, and I confusedly let myself be manhandled into place while I watched the flurry of servants run in with tea and sweets and carry the stack of documents out. A second later the emperor’s eyes were on me, for what felt like first time in my life.

For some reason I was surprised by his beauty. I didn’t know why, I’ve seen him before but always from much further away. I had a better idea of what his father looked like, and at the end of his life he turned into a bitter mean old man, therefore the youthful charm took the wind out of my sails lightly.

He was bathed in gold, from head to toe – from his attire and jewels to his skin, to his burning bright hair. Even his eyes had specks of gold swimming in the brown. But the longer I looked at him, the more I saw the signs of his cruelty, things that no amount of grace and allure could hide – his stare had no warmth in it despite his polite smile, instead it froze me down with its poorly hidden brutality; his sharp features didn’t as much add to his handsomeness as they brought out the shadows on his face, underlining the haunting savagery of his faux kind smile. When his lips stretched to reveal his white perfect teeth, I was almost expecting to see them pointy and sharp enough to tear flesh to shreds.

“Yeong-su, Man-young,” he greeted with a nod first my father, then my brother, before his eyes redirected to me, “and you must be Y/N then.” His voice was strong and firm, with a tone of courteousness so false it felt sleazy. I shuddered, barely managed to hide it from his inquisitive eyes and then shakily smiled back with my own nod.

“Your majesty,” father greeted, just as slimy and with a similar looking smile. I supressed the disgust crawling up the sides of my stomach and kept to myself. This might have been the first and only time I was happy about the general insisting I don’t speak so I don’t embarrass him.

“I hope your morning has gone well, our empire,” he continued, head bowed so deep his chin was digging into his breastbone, “we, your people, are joyous for the opportunity to meet with you.” Seeing Man-young going into a slight bow again, I scrambled to follow, not giving myself the space to inspect that pile of insincere grovelling bullshit.

“Thank you, general,” came a simple answer, “I hear you are here for the purpose of your daughter’s bonding. Your eyes are on Bangtan, general?” It felt both inquisitive and threatening, like a thinly-veiled warning. I curiously watched my father, the proud man that he was who would rather die than let anyone disrespect him, as he ducked his head in pretend humility. I’d never realised that he was such a damned good actor.

“Of course not, our empire, we wouldn’t dare to demand your dragons, we can simply hope and beg for your blessing.” That seemed to have satisfied the young sovereign, and I had to wonder whether he was genuinely stupid enough to believe it or whether he didn’t care because he knew his place of power and trusted in his invincibility. Surely, everyone could tell these were all fake sentiments, even the man that’s been listening to them since his birth?

A nudge broke me out of my reverie and I realised my father wanted me to grovel alongside with him, but before I could think of anything to say, a knock to the door interrupted us.

“Oh, perfect timing,” emperor exclaimed, for the first time with a real sense of excitement which put me off slightly, and then he was gesturing for the door to open. And the most curious group of people stood behind it.

The first to stroll leisurely into the room was Duke Lee, and I barely suppressed the obvious disgust on my face. He only shot me a single unfriendly glare before his expression melted into a similar smarminess of all the council members in the presence of the emperor. I tuned out his dick-sucking-esque monologue that the ruler seemed to eat up to take in the other three newcomers. Well, except that they weren’t truly new to me.

The silver-haired dragon I’ve seen a mere week ago when my father dragged me to the council meeting still had his signature cold expressionless mask on and he silently made his way through the room without acknowledging anyone to sit on a chair by the emperor’s sofa.

The other two were a surprise to me.

Jungkook wearing a uniform I’d never seen before (and that he seemed exceedingly uncomfortable in) and constantly squirming in place tried to greet me, but was promptly stopped by his companion. A dragon I knew very well despite the fact that I haven’t officially met him before. He was only slightly taller than Jungkook, but his muscular and wide form made him seem towering, alongside the power and authority that was pouring off of him in waves that attempted to drown me. His golden fiery eyes were fond yet firm on Jungkook’s squirming form, before they turned into the room and became as cold and hard as stone. I had to fight back the urge to kneel and bow to him just like we did to the emperor.

I was face to face with Namjoon, the head of Bangtan thunder, a fire dragon and one of the most easily recognisable faces of the dragonkind staying in or around the castle.

The second our eyes met I shot to my feet and bowed full 90 degrees to him, shocking the room into silence as everyone’s attention was suddenly drawn to me. When I straightened back up, Namjoon was giving me a strange look, but said nothing. He only pulled Jungkook with him to a sofa opposite of us and they made themselves comfortable.

“You’ve served me well since my coronation, general,” the emperor started again, “and my father for long years before that. You know it would be a pleasure to have my dragons in your family’s care.” Now it was my father who stood up and bowed fully, dragging me with him to extend the same courtesy, which I did with significantly more difficulty than when I bowed to Namjoon.

Duke Lee found his place on the same sofa as the two dragons, watching the exchange with fiery eyes, lips turned to a thin line. I didn’t even know what he was doing here, and his salty aura was really ruining the morning for me even further, so I did my best to ignore his very existence.

“Jungkook is your bonded, then?” this question was aimed at me, but the king was already eyeing the two Bangtan dragons sitting uncomfortably next to the slimy duke. They knew better than to speak and only inclined their heads, though I could see Namjoon fighting off words.

“Not yet, your majesty, though I hope for his acceptance,” I chose my words carefully, once again trying to dangerously toe the line of politeness and smarminess, desperately trying to please both sides and escape suspicion, but by the unhappy twitch of emperor’s lips and the cold expression on Namjoon’s face, I was failing at both.

“You have my approval, that’s more than law,” the gold-clad man stated firmly, voice void of the falseness it held before, “Do you want him to be yours?” This was the real man on the throne. Only now we truly had the pleasure of meeting him.

Now, that was the question, wasn’t it? Everything and more on the line with a single word – yes, of course I wanted to bond Jungkook. Did his thunder wish for the same? Would they ever forgive me for not giving them a choice? Those both had the same answer, one whose outcome I had to risk either way, and I hated it. Not more than them, though.

“Yes, your majesty,” I settled for, not wanting to drag it out. It was safer to stick to short answers and the man himself wasn’t interested in anything more. Namjoon sat in his place, frozen – not with shock, I don’t think at that point he had it in him to be surprised at this anymore. It felt more like resignation. Jungkook still looked the same, looked at me the same, but the heaviness in his shoulders spoke of his mate’s emotional turmoil.

“Very well,” were the next emperor’s words and with that it was decided. I sat back down and kept my head hung low. I was too guilt-ridden to look at the dragons anymore, the humiliation swirled in my stomach and made me sick, and all I wanted was to just have this all behind me. Once bonded, it would get easier – and then a whole lot more difficult.

“Duke, how is the rest of the unit?”

Well, that had my attention, but I pretended not to watch the exchange, keeping my gaze at the table and the variety of colourful chocolate sweets that still sat untouched on the beautiful decorative plate. I just saw Namjoon’s tense form and Jungkook’s squirming legs while he found it hard to settle down into the furnishing. The straight posture of my brother to my side told me he was also diligently keeping up, though I couldn’t understand why this would fall under the umbrella of his interests. My brother was a shadow, he had nothing to do with the horns.

But the most curious was that Lee seemed to be involved to this extent.

“Excellent, our empire, from what I’ve heard three others have already found their dragons as well,” the duke’s irksome voice replied, and I was minutely reminded of baron Kim and his overt friendliness, “Only two remain undecided.”

When did he become the spokesperson of Qinglong? As far as I was aware, he had nothing to do with the unit. I haven’t even really seen him around the dragon-knights, so how come he was suddenly being summoned like this to speak of the unit and the new arrivals? How has he managed to weasel his way in here, when just a few months back he was mostly whining about mining and gems?

“Splendid. I want the bonding ceremony to happen in three days,” the sovereign demanded, in the manner that he was used to – speaking it into existence, “It will be the full moon. Make sure the others are ready as well.” There was some more small-talk, mostly the duke bending over backwards to agree and promise he will make it happen, while the rest of us watched him with varying stages of appalment.

“Oh, that’s right duke, I’ve heard your son showed a brilliant performance with a sword,” it was a statement uttered thoughtlessly as part of the polite conversation, but just as the information sunk into my brain and I froze, I saw Jungkook do the same. Almost on instinct we looked to each other, similar sense of horror looming over us both, and I saw Namjoon’s eyes flit between us in alarm out of the corner of my eye.

The bad premonition got confirmed when the duke suddenly straightened in joy, and if he had a tail, it would be wagging wildly behind him at that moment, and he started prattling off about his son championing the banquet.

Peacock. His son was Peacock.

Well, that didn’t complicate anything at all! I should have fucking known the moment I looked at that bastard, this particular brand of being an awful person truly did run in the family. And it explained the duke being all salty and mad about me interacting with Bangtan. With him weaselling into the emperor’s graces and into the higher layers of the dragon unit, he most probably aimed for his son to be the one to snatch Jungkook or Jimin. I wondered whether his son was one of the two who still didn’t find their dragons or whether they managed to find someone pleasing enough. I thought back to the poor dragon with fire red hair and hoped that he wasn’t a potential connection to that ass.

It also explained the sudden change of the banquet activities and the fact that Peacock knew of the details before anyone else did. It wasn’t because Lord Kim was sucking up to his father, it was because Duke Lee somehow found a way to involve himself with the unit.

Oh, father would not be happy about that…

“Your majesty,” Namjoon’s deep rumbling voice cut through the duke’s uninteresting chatter, and immediately commanded the attention of the whole room, “If you don’t mind the suggestion, I had hoped that young mistress Kang would be first introduced to the thunder before we make the decision to bond with her. Three days is quite fast.” Clearly the date bothered him quite a lot, and I felt a pang in my heart at the closed off unhappy expression on his face when he spoke of me.

But before the emperor could answer him, and by the look on his face he wasn’t very happy with the dragon, Jungkook hurriedly interjected. “I have already made the decision to bond with Y/N-ssi,” tumbled out of his mouth in a rush and surprised both me and Namjoon. I felt a light blush rise to my cheeks and this time my heart hurt from the timid joy at such an earnest confession, while Namjoon watched his youngest mate with hard warning eyes.

To everybody else in the room though it felt like a hasty attempt to smooth out the fire dragon’s uncompromising words, including the visibly displeased sovereign sitting above us like a ruler of the universe.

“The decision has been made, dragon,” the golden man spit out, a beastly sneer sneaking onto his face when he looked over the hundreds of years old magical being that he thought was beneath him, “You have two days to introduce her to the thunder.”

I was getting ready to intercept and try to save the situation a little, syphon away a little bit of that anger the man clearly felt at not being listened to unconditionally, and as much as that made me dislike him even more, I did have to suck up to him in situations like these. But then he scoffed and continued.

“Or better yet, do it today. That’s an order.” All the peace-making words died in my throat, and I nervously glanced towards the fire dragon, who was discreetly trying to hide the daggers in his eyes. He said nothing and nodded, holding Jungkook’s wrist. The younger dragon looked towards me with troubled eyes, and that was that. Stellar.

My irritation towards the emperor steadily rose, as he seemed to be adamant on making this as hard for me as possible, so I just quietly gulped everything down and sat patiently and politely by my father’s side.

The rest of the meeting flew by and I barely even paid attention, too busy trying to think through the buzz of nerves how to ease the tension, but ultimately deciding that I had to ride this one out, see and think quick on my feet based on their reactions. Namjoon, similar to Hoseok yesterday, had that air of gentleness when he looked to Jungkook, and while that all disappeared the moment his eyes weren’t on his mate, I still hoped he wouldn’t be unmovable. I’d learn what I’d have to do to earn his trust, all in good time.

In the meantime I let myself be comforted by the fact that Jungkook seemed to be fully in acceptance of this bond. I wondered whether he was able to feel anything from me. Maybe my genuinity shined through the connection, maybe deep down he felt he could trust me. I desperately didn’t want to let him down.

When the emperor finally sent us on our way, my family didn’t even waste time talking to me. With a curt nod both the men stepped through the door and set out towards the Academy, only my father pausing shortly to send me a distinctive warning look that screamed ‘don’t fuck this for us’ before he walked off.

Jungkook was cautiously smiling my way, but Namjoon next to him stood tensely, unreadable gaze glued to my father’s back. I hoped that there wasn’t much bad blood between them, but given my father’s personality you simply couldn’t spend the last 35 years in the same circles without inevitably ending up hating him, so that was probably a foolish wish.

When the golden gaze shifted to me it felt like a whole mountain was suddenly sitting on my shoulders, the weight and depth of his eyes pressing me into the ground. He was a respectable man, taking his place of standing between his thunder and the emperor very seriously, and it reflected all in his straight back and dark eyes. To me it was the first time I found myself firmly in the centre of his attention, and I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of that stare that felt like it was burning through me straight to the deepest most hidden and vulnerable places in my soul.

He wasn’t happy with me. He didn’t like me accepting on behalf of Jungkook. I could read it all there, and I felt deeply ashamed.

The silence stretching was weighing down heavily on me, I couldn’t help myself but shake in the tense atmosphere. Even Jungkook only quietly watched his thunder leader, not daring to speak out while Namjoon’s calculating gaze took me in.

Finally buckling under that stare I hesitantly bent at the waist, bowing to the man in the same manner I did to all the other dragons from this thunder I met, but inside I was second-guessing everything.

“Authority, it is an honour to meet you,” it was a miracle I didn’t stumble all over my words and stutter, that was the effect the dragon had on people around him. I saw the surprise written over his face at the title used, Jungkook smiling proudly next to him and trying to catch his eye in a ‘look at me, I was right!!’ way.

The term ‘authority’ was an old title (well, now it was an old title, just a few hundred years back it was completely normal) used for leaders of thunders. It was the correct way of addressing the dragons in positions of power among their peers, and while it was a little heavy-handed in the human language, it was a direct translation from draconic. It didn’t need to make perfect sense in the context of our speak. And it wasn’t really used here anymore.

I would bet that most didn’t even know a term like this existed – and I wouldn’t have known either if it wasn’t for Hwan who taught me a little about dragon history and hierarchy.

“No need to address me as such, I hardly am an authority anymore,” the man grumbled, but his energy was a lot less hostile. Now he just seemed resigned, which also wasn’t good. I didn’t want to argue with him, so I just decided to let it go.

“Namjoon-ssi, if today isn’t suitable for you, I can come a different day,” I offered him, head still humbly lowered, “Or I can come for dinner.” The man just waved his hand around like dismissing an annoying fly and set out, Jungkook scrambling to follow after him.

“There’s no reason to. Just come,” he said simply over his shoulder, not really looking back to see whether I went after or not. With a deep sigh I willed my feet to run after them, resigning myself to a cluster-fuck of an afternoon.

Their town house was on the other side of the castle, hidden in the shadow of the big black rock the structure sat on – maybe somewhat poetically. All in all it looked very similar to ours, which was slightly worrying given the fact that our household hosted only three people, while this thunder had seven. Though mated dragons would most probably have less need for individual bedrooms, but also there was absolutely no space for them to turn forms.

Which, unfortunately, was a thing that dragons rarely got to do unless humans commanded them to. Even though they needed to regularly spend time in both forms, people often got antsy around the massive beasts and didn’t like to see it. So dragons mostly turned only if they needed to fly or they left the city and spent a few hours out in the woods.

I took the dwelling in – it seemed quite ordinary and it was obvious on first glance that it wasn’t a place they considered home. The most beautiful and cared for part of the house was the little garden in the inner courtyard, which I supposed was Hoseok’s work.

The house was quiet as we stepped through the main gate, it seemed completely empty and for a moment I wondered whether I’d have to spent hours sitting here only with Jungkook and Namjoon, because I wasn’t so sure I was quite ready for that.

But it was an unnecessary fear as I came to realise when we stepped inside, heading towards the dining room – the thunder was already sitting ready around a traditional table with pillows strewn around and a warm feast waiting for us to dig in. Three pillows were empty – two at the opposite ends of the table and one to the right side of the closer empty one.

Both dragons left me standing unsure in the doorway into the room, heading straight for the table – Namjoon sat down at the head of the table, next to a broad-shouldered pink-haired man with massive wings spanning from his back and a very unfriendly looking man with long black hair and black horns curling around the crown of his head. That one I recognised – it was very hard to forget Yoongi once you’d seen him once. Especially when you’ve found yourself at the receiving end of that stare. Which I had before. It was not pleasant.

For the second time that day I found myself bowing respectfully, though now to considerably bigger number of dragons.

“Thank you for having me,” it was hard to say in a volume louder than a whisper – it felt like it should be whispered. It was useless politeness, given the fact that they were ordered to have me for lunch, but it was better than not saying anything.

Jungkook, who took the empty seat by the end of the table patted the pillow next to him and I slowly walked over to take it, folding myself down. No one spoke. When I chanced looking up, I found that their gazes seemed quite neutral and they were just taking me in. Well, except for Yoongi, who never gave much thought to pointless politeness – and strangely enough Hoseok, whose eyes had something unreadable but definitely not good in them.

This seat put me directly opposite of Namjoon, and much like before in the hall he left the silence stretch until I had time to spiral all the way down thinking I had already managed to fuck up a first meeting given the fact the cheerful nature dragon was looking at me like he’d need to protect his den from my murderous rage by the end of this meal.

“Let me properly introduce myself,” I started in the end, though at that point it already felt a little too late, but the quiet had a way of messing with my head. I had spent too many hours under my father’s wordless disappointment to keep my cool under such heavy gazes. “I am Kang Y/N of the northern clan.” Nothing more was needed to say.

Everybody already seemed to know though, so at least we saved ourselves that awkward realisation.

“Welcome to our house, Kang Y/N of the northern clan,” the pink-haired dragon spoke, and I was so relieved I could cry of happiness. The man had an aura of unnatural beauty about him and in my head I went through the packmates I still haven’t met trying to guess who he was. Taking in the air of maturity and a sense of duty that exuded from him, the firm yet gentle voice he spoke with and the wings that looked very uncomfortably folded over his back and bent over the ground, I was betting on the eldest.

“That’s Jin-hyung,” Jungkook whispered to me, though his voice was still loud enough to be heard through the whole room, drawing some smiles from the rest of the men. It broke the ice a little, draining away a bit of that tenseness from their shoulders, which I was infinitely grateful for.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Seokjin-ssi,” I greeted the dragon properly, bowing once more with a small smile – which he accepted graciously.

Turning to the two other dragons I’ve met before I gave each a small bow as well. “And nice to see you again, Jimin-ssi, Hoseok-ssi.” Their smiles were significantly less enthusiastic, but I’d take it. Better than nothing.

Now there were two dragons left – one that I recognised as Yoongi and one that had to be Taehyung, but neither of them seemed eager to introduce themselves. While Yoongi still kept his air of careful hostility, Taehyung looked at me curiously but with very obvious apprehension. I saw his hand tightly gripping onto Hoseok sitting next to him and given the fact that he sat at the end of the table, opposite of Jungkook, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. I tried not to take it personally.

Choosing to stop dancing around it, I took the moment to look into his eyes, hoping to convey as much genuineness as possible in that single glance and said: “It is an honour to meet you as well, Taehyung-ssi.”

The man didn’t look away, didn’t flinch, only turned his head slightly as if thinking. His eyes took me in, as if looking at me for the first time, before he finally straightened and leaned away from his older mate, instead choosing to watch me with intensity rivalling that of Namjoon. But while under the Authority’s eyes I felt like he was searching my soul for any wrongdoing, Taehyung’s eyes were like those of a curious child faced with an exciting experiment.

I had no idea whether that was a good thing, but it seemed better than before.

The last dragon didn’t even really give me a chance to speak, just nodded at me recognising that I knew him and to move on. So I did. Out of everyone here, the atmokinetic was the one I wanted to antagonise the least, so I just let it go and settled more into my seat.

“Well, let’s dig in,” Seokjin announced, still a little wooden, but the prospect of food worked like a charm to loosen up the atmosphere. Now we didn’t need to speak and the silence could be filled with sounds of eating, saving us from the inevitable awkward ‘what are your intentions with my son’ conversation.

“So, Y/N.” Or not.

I looked up to Namjoon, who sat tensely in his seat, something little pulled onto his plate just so he wouldn’t stand out, but both his hands were clasped together in front of his face and he peered at me over them.

“Yes, Authority,” I answered, hoping he wouldn’t take offence to me bringing back the title now that we were in the privacy of his home and thunder, and while he didn’t react much, at least he didn’t tell me to stop. Everyone else at the table though turned to look at me shocked, and I burned under those six gazes, rather choosing not to dissect the meanings behind their eyes for the sake of my own psyche.

Seokjin at least seemed somewhat appeased, though Yoongi started frowning even more if that was even possible. I felt the examining probing gaze of Taehyung, but I didn’t turn.

I wondered whether I was trying a little too hard a little too soon. I hoped that I was laying down the foundation of future partnerships. If nothing else, I knew that Jungkook strangely remained firmly on my side.

“Why Qinglong?” Namjoon asked, neutrally watching me over the rim of a glass he picked up. If possible, my heart sped up even more when all the dragons paused and looked towards me, eyes reflecting various stages of curiosity and mistrust.

“I…” I felt my throat go dry, thoughts racing in my head, all trying to come up with the best way to put this without antagonising anyone even more.

���I’ve honestly always wanted to work with dragons,” I settled on, giving them a shaky smile. No one reacted, their faces stayed passive and gazes inquisitive, waiting for me to continue. “I had a teacher, when I was younger-” I was prepared to launch into the whole explanation again, but Seokjin’s quick response stopped me.

“Oh, that’s right!” the pink-haired man exclaimed, “Jimin and Jungkook mentioned the dragon you knew. Hwan, am I right?” I nodded, a little shocked, hesitantly looking over to Jimin. Jungkook telling his thunder was expected, but Jimin wasn’t even a part of that conversation. What could he possibly had to say about it?

The water dragon in question stubbornly avoided my gaze though, watching his plate as he chased unruly vegetables around with his spoon. He had nothing more to add now. The anxiety of his sudden change in demeanour was haunting me – of course it was something different to joke around when we barely knew each other, but I would have lied if I pretended his new attitude didn’t sting.

“Yes, that was- is his name,” I stumbled through the sentence, dragging my eyes back to the eldest who was giving me a stunted polite smile. He tried really hard to maintain some sense of normalcy, and for that I was grateful, now that Jimin and Hoseok barely looked at me, Yoongi and Namjoon outright didn’t like me, Taehyung unsettled me and Jungkook awkwardly sat through it all with a smile on his face.

“Was? Is?” the dragon repeated with an uncomfortable confused smile, “I only met a single dragon named Hwan, and I doubt you met the same one. I don’t recall any other dragons of that name.”

“I am not sure where he is now,” I repeated the words I said to Jungkook yesterday noon, “He spent only a year at our fief. He and his knight-“

“Were travelling knights,” Seokjin jumped in, the smile a little more wooden, “Yes, Jimin mentioned you said that.” The atmosphere in the room was plunged into something more tense and uncomfortable, I could feel it charged between us.

“Therefore,” I forced out a little firmer than I wanted to, “I cannot say whether you knew him or not. I don’t know when and for how long they were in Wuyun, if even." Seokjin looked at me for few long moments, the table silent. No one was saying anything, all the dragons watching the interaction with bated breaths – especially Jungkook who for once actually squirmed with nerves, unsure of how the situation would spin.

But then Seokjin smiled again, digging back into his food with a polite expression. The others followed his example and the table rang with cutlery clinking against porcelain. I nervously followed suit. The stress took a toll on me, and I felt almost resignation settling into me. I was tired, and I was fighting a losing battle.

I knew I had to try harder, longer, and I was prepared for that. I’d earn it.

The dinner carried on, awkward small-talk springing up here or there between bouts of tense silence. None of the dragons tried to stray towards any conflicting topics again, choosing to talk about benign things, mostly with each other letting me tag along.

Yoongi didn’t say a single word the entire evening, and neither did Taehyung, though both of their energies varied strongly.

I desperately tried to hold on, letting the dragons speak and only occasionally adding something, eyes ever so often searching Jungkook’s, begging for the reassurance that I knew I’d find there. And he always delivered, smiling at me in a way that said ‘don’t worry, it’ll be okay’, and I so desperately wanted to believe that. Guess I’d have to give it time.

The first dinner could have gone better, could have been less charged, less infused with unsureness and fear, but that evening I still left filled with hope quivering in my heart, buzzing with resolve I hadn’t known for a long while.

“Duke Lee weaseled his way to the Emperor like the rat he is,” the general hissed, and I sighed into my cup knowing exactly what was coming next. “I made a mistake not paying attention to Qinglong. He thinks he can fuck me over, sneaking through the back like this. He’s always had it in for me.”

I stabbed my fork around my plate, chasing the food around and playing with it, trying not to catch the man’s attention. Whenever he got like this it was rough, and sometimes no matter what you did you still ended up at the receiving end of his fury.

He didn’t take well to any perceived competition, and Duke Lee sleazing his way into father’s personal meeting with the emperor definitely displeased him.

Even with the slight pride I was able to win him in these past few days, during the duration of this very uncomfortable lunch I felt his eyes stray to me more than once, an unreadable look on his face. I knew it quite well – he was planning something, and I didn’t like that somehow I seemed to be involved in that.

My brother sat opposite of me as usual, gaze curious and impassive all at once trained on the quietly raging man. He also seemed to be aware that he was in the clear for this one, given the relaxed nature of his usually tense form.

I was waiting for the shoe to drop, attempting to at least somewhat enjoy the food presented – after all, it wasn’t the cook’s fault the general chose this time to throw a temper tantrum and spin his evil plans.

“Y/N.”

I froze mid-bite, heart contracting painfully for an agonising moment before I untensed and turned to face the older man.

“Yes, father?” I hoped that bundle of nerves choking me wasn’t audible in my voice, that I didn’t sound as strained as I felt. I was hoping to escape this for now, though I knew I couldn’t keep the man off my back for long with just a few promises to fly Bangtan.

“There is a general leading the Qinglong unit, right?” he asked, far-away contemplative look in his eyes as he barely regarded me.

“Yes, father, Qinglong is led by General Yun and her dragoness Ha-rin,” I answered dutifully, a bad feeling settling into my stomach and weighing it down. The man only hummed, swirling the glass in hand. He minutely looked towards my brother, the two men holding eye contact for few gut-wrenching seconds before he turned back to me.

“I will look into the affiliations, but considering the size of the unit I cannot imagine there’s many ranked,” the general scoffed, something vile creeping into his eyes, “There’s at most two captain generals, which would mean around four corporals and four captains. Horns have always banked more on infamy then numbers.” The cruelty in his mocking sneer never failed to shock me, not when he always found a new way to remind me of all of his worst qualities. Just like today.

“Man-young is working hard to climb the shadows’ ranks,” father said and gestured towards my brother who still leisurely ate dinner, “I will not have you pull him down by not trying for the same. Bangtan is only the beginning.” I’ve already heard these demands before, but he’s never said them with so much undebatable conviction. There was no arguing – and I would not attempt to.

“Yes father,” I recited obediently, bowing my head in show of submission and satisfying his ego. What was it they said? Revenge tastes sweeter when the lamb trusts you with their very life? The betrayal never feels better than when they never thought you’d be the one to stab the knife in?

My father thought he knew me the best. He thought he knew how to control me the best. I fought to stifle my smile. I still had a surprise or two down my sleeves, general.

“I will pull some strings, they will not embarrass me by not having you promoted by the end of the year,” the man continued, lost to his own thoughts swirling around in that machine for destruction he called brain, hand carding through his greying black short hair and silver stubble, stormy grey eyes glazed as he already planned his next steps. “Once you become captain, you need to pull your own weight. I want you a corporal within the next year, Y/N. I hope you chose the right dragon for battle.”

I ignored the remark about Jungkook and nodded again, head still bowed politely as I agreed once more, the false promises falling out of my lips easily. My brother watched me, eyes inquisitive but none-the-wiser, and I smirked his way. I saw the exact moment disappointment ran through him, thinking I’m still nothing more than that rebellious kid hell-bent on making his life harder, and though it stung, it was the better option. He was not my friend and he would not be my ally, no matter what.

“You’ll be my tool to claiming Qinglong back to my favour. I will not stand for that vermin trying to run things on my turf.”

This was between me and the goddess of creation, the mother of nature.

But one thing I did have to give to my father – there was one thing he was most definitely right about. Bangtan was only the beginning.

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[yakichoufd]

AWWWW, the way you draw Evolution Scott is so cute!! I recently watched Evolution and really enjoyed it!! I’m so glad there’s at least one adaptation of Scott that isn’t constantly suffering. He deserves at least some sort of happiness in his life. :,)

What’s your opinion of Evolution? I think you have good takes on anything Scott-related, so I must hear from the source!!

I already shared my opinion on that show several time so I might repeat myself haha! X-men Evolution is one of my all time favorite. I watched it as a kid and it made me fall in love of Scott (and Kurt). He is very mature for his age (but you could understand it if you know his past) and very kind. He struggles with things that fit with his age and highschool (ofc he has other bigger struggles with his mutation and the x-men too) but the show gave a good balance between daily life and being a mutant/x-men. Or at least for the first 2 seasons, after, I started to enjoy it less. I like how his romance is written. Scott isn't too obsessive and he keeps his distance when he thinks his love interest is not receptive. He is still awkward but it is not over done. I think Jean should have been written a bit differently, I don't think they are a super good match here (like Rogue and Scott actually got many bonding time and they are very good friend). I'm really sad that once Jean and Scott are together, he doesn't hang out with Rogue anymore. I think the writers should have give them some scenes together as friends. We lose a bit of Scott's personnality and character development once he is with Jean. which is a pity. But they are still a cute couple, I guess! I loved how they added angst for Scotty. Too bad they never really do anything with the angsty episodes, cause his brother and him deal with a lot. Same when Mistique kidnaps Scott and abandon him in a desert without his visor. He should have end up a bit traumatized for an episode or two...but nope everyone are acting like it was not a big deal.

SO if you like good boy Scott, then X-men Evolution is your show haha! there is a mini comic serie about the show. I read then and they are fun. Scott is a bit more goofy in his writting there but still a good boy that you want to hug!

[nn-ee-zz]

Hello!

Your art is so gorgeous and inspirational!

Do you have any tips on drawing body horror and character design? When I've tried to design some characters with body horror they all end up looking rather friendly 😅

Hope you have a lovely day and thanks in advance!

Thank you! I'm happy to hear that! Here goes!

NEZ GUIDE TO BODY HORROR

(Disclaimer; this is my advice, not rules. Break them as you wish)

Despite not doing it on purpose, a lot of my art is tagged as body-horror. I've embraced it. Here are my 3 pillars for frightening art. I don't have to follow them all at once, at least one is enough.

Nature

Get inspired by nature. Not necessarily by gore and wounds, but by things that look normal in one context but might appear unsettling in another. A great example is my pumpkin creature; everyone has seen the insides of a pumpkin but adding that texture to a living body made everyone react more strongly to it. I highly recommend natural things with strange textures and patterns (especially seeds)

Book Recommendation; The Art and Science of Ernst Haeckel

I recently bought this for all the gorgeous pattern and creature drawings. It's a beautiful book for those who want to draw horror based on nature. Careful if you have tyrophobia, this has some INTENSE patterns.

Subtlety

In either execution or concept.

In execution; give the drawing other recognizable characteristics. The gore is NOT them, it's just part of them. An example would be my cowboy creature. They have the coat, the hat, the boots, the smile...and then you notice the heads. Give your character more than their frightening parts.

In concept; If you want the bright reds and obvious gore, follow one simple concept. In the example below, the concept was a wound surrounded by mushrooms. That is all. If I were to add 'but also mushrooms leave their eyes, and bloody tears fall from them, and they have gashes in their skin, and'' it would have made the impact of all of those concepts collapse. Like a bed of nails. The more nails you add, the less a single individual nail will hurt.

Feeling

It follows the theme above. I noticed horror works better when it's not an abudance but also when it's relatable. I've seen people react more intensely to an animated character brushing a line of yarn against their eyeball than an animated character having their head explode in blood, brains, and bone. You can draw from emotional feelings as well, turning your mental pain into a physical manifestation of it.

This is not a must follow because I do plenty horror art without being vulnerable nor making myself uncomfortable, I just notice people react when they can relate and feel it too.

I hope it helps anon!

[the-east-art]

Oh, wait I think I misread the post. My apologizes, I thought that was in reference to those two clothing shop drama. Though I am willing to hear out the other indie clothing shops that you keep a eye on.

Alright! Easts' big post about indie clothing brands I like!

Worth noting that while I’ve been keeping my eye on a lot of these brands for a while now, there is a possibility there is some kind of discourse around them that I missed - if so please let me know so that I can look into it myself!

Mayakern!

I like Mayakern a lot because they cater a lot to plus size bodies! They have plus size models and Mayakern themselves is plus sized! Recently they’ve been expanding beyond skirts to things like dresses and shirts. This makes me very excited because not only are these shirts cute as heck, but some of them are even more standard/essential shirts but are made with bigger body types in mind. So often fat people have to just settle for good enough,but its clear that Mayakern makes her stuff so that anyone wearing it can be confident! There’s also ton of customer pics you can see to tell how clothing lays on various body types. 

(Rest Under The Cut)

Umvvelt

Umvvelt focuses on fish/ocean themes and I absolutely love how creative they get - they’ve done a bunch of different fish lines focused on rays to jellyfish to sharks. I particularly adore their pinafores - I own three of them and they’re very comfortable AND have pockets. 

Carmico

A classic - I think the brand that got me really invested in indie clothing brands? Carmico does themed drops a couple times a year where they design a myriad of clothing pieces that all have a similar vibe/theme. I think they do a good job at getting creative while still having the clothing be something I would wear! From button-ups to sweatpants to jackets Carmico has the variety and the style. A lot of their clothing gives the vibe of something you would draw on a character and wish existed in real life - except now it does exist in real life! 

Morningwitch 

Another classic, if you haven’t checked them out by now PLEASE do. Morningwitch has SUCH as eye for design and patterns and color. Chiefly known for their creative button up tops (of which I own several) they also have expanded quite a bit recently. Their skirts are probably my favorite style of all the skirts on this list because they have a thicker band. They also do some relief print shirts, the CUTEST jackets (if you’ve seen pics of brownies pomegranate jacket this is where they got it) and on their twitter they have a lot more fun stuff brewing. Much like Mayakern they’re starting to branch out beyond their ‘standard’ (the button up tees) into new avenues and I personally look forward to what that brings! 

Knockthrice

This indie store blends concepts and casual wear together into something extraordinary. From their knight cardigans, to their ‘tea’-shirts, to their themed over-the-garden wall collections they have some of the most beautiful pieces you may ever see. Knockthrice does a great job at blending ideas into clothing in a creative way so make it something that I would wear in daily life. Their shirts are a good, durable, thick material - although maybe a little warm for the summer. A lot of their stuff gives me fall vibes, and as someone who loves fall the most out of all season - I eat it up! 

Envygreen Manor

More of a newcomer on the scene as far as I am aware, envygreen manor also does themed drops once or twice a year. However, their clothing it usually more of a mix between casual tees and more formal elements - their vests or poet shirts come to mind. I instantly fell in love with them when I saw their mock-neck designs and felt like they somehow knew me and exactly the kind of shirt I would want from them. 

Vetiverfox Apparel/Witch Vamp

Putting these two together because they kind of occupy the came part of my brain! They’re both skirt focused brands much like Mayakern. Vetiverfox typically has more intricate designs or patterns, while Witch Vamp usually has bolder themes - not that thats a hard rule or anything! I own I believe a skirt from each of them (soon to be two from vetiverfox!) and highly recommend at least taking a peak and seeing if anything catches your eye from either brand! 

Mothsprout

Mothsprout only has a few clothing options, but I absolutely HAVE to mention them. Mothsprout has two muscle tank designs that I literally wear like once a week - I’ve actually considered getting a second of the wolf design just so I can wear it more often. Their designs vary from intricate to fun, and honestly I would never pass up a chance to wear their beautiful art as clothing. 

Other indies I keep an eye on but don't have a lot to say about:

Motel777

Bison Wares

Snowlattes

Fiveboos

JeanaDraws

Howl Out

Bandaid Brigade

and if you have any other indie clothing brands you want added to the list lmk!

[bucksdaffy]

okay, so i've seen some people claim that tim minear is an avid buddie shipper and that he's slowly but surely laying the groundwork for buck and eddie to become canon in the future and...

i'm just thoroughly confused about this assertion.

i'll preface this by saying i'm very new to the fandom, so i'm prepared to be wrong about this. i'm aware i may lack crucial context because i've been here only so long. also, i don't know tim personally, so i obviously can't speak to his true intentions, but i'll make my case anyway.

i'll cite two RECENT comments by tim that i assume people might draw this conclusion from:

[?: There is a sect of the fandom that just wants 9-1-1 to be the Buck and Eddie show, and any cut that removes a second of them is going to get the same reaction. Nothing short of renaming the show "Christopher's Two Dads" is going to make them happy.] T: I totally get that. I even appreciate it. Which explains the entire first act of last night's episode. I kind of did for the Buck/Eddie fans (I mean I really do it for myself in the end). I just thought... they'd like it? Shrug. I liked it, so whatever.

Minear tells Rolling Stone that he hasn’t just been aware of fan reactions, he’s actually changed storylines in the past to avoid being accused of queerbaiting. But rather than help, he says it made the show worse. “Nobody wants to be accused of queerbaiting so I kind of stopped writing those characters together. And I think it hurt the show because I was so afraid to be accused of something that I wasn’t going where I would naturally go with the stories,” Minear says. “I just decided that I just have to write the thing that I think is right. I just have to be honest with the story I’m telling and let the chips fall where they may.”

now, i may be biased, but this doesn't read to me like he plans on buddie endgame at all.

while it's clear he loves the bond between buck and eddie and enjoys highlighting it in the show, saying he totally wants them to end up together feels like a reach.

he discusses being accused of queerbaiting in the past, which led him to backtrack a little and stop writing buck and eddie together. how does this suggest he did it because he wants buddie to become canon? if that were his intention he could have continued to drop more (apparent!) hints that buck and eddie may love each other in a non-platonic way. he wouldn't care about the accusations of queerbaiting so much, because he would be planning to make them canon all along. sure, there are external constraints that could prevent this from ever materializing, but that doesn't mean he couldn't write the dialogue in a clearly ambiguous way so that once he gets a pass and everyone else involved is on board with it, he could confirm that "yeah, you were right; it was a good ol' friends-to-lovers slow burn trope all along. congrats!!" no. instead he backtracked because he didn't want anyone to think he was writing buddie as anything other than a platonic relationship. that's it. but he eventually realized it doesn't really matter because people are going to think what they want to think regardless. and he obviously loves buck and eddie's friendship so he might as well just make the most out of it at this point. and if he ever feels like maybe it is a good time to turn their friendship into something more because it feels right for story, he'll go for it. but if not, he won't.

i see a lot of people claim buddie is a six-season-long slow burn, being carefully crafted right now for future canonization. and they say tim basically confirmed this. but i really can't see his comments being a confirmation of the sort.

if there are any quotes i'm missing that suggest otherwise, i would love to go through them. so if anyone's aware of any, please don't hesitate to hit me up.

but at the moment i believe y'all are just setting yourselves up for disappointment.

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Interlude.

GIFs by uuuhshiny

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Flashback to the first erotic phone call between our favorite couple.

WORD COUNT: ~5k

RATING: 18+ Minors DNI.

TAGS: more phone sex to satiate our horniness, dirty talk is a given, masturbation (f&m), porn with feelings, lots of terms of endearment, javi thinks she's really pretty and perfect, fluff at the end because these two are in love and it sickens me (in the best way possible), you don't really need to read the main fic to enjoy this, if there's typos/grammatical errors just pretend that there's not, other things that i'm probably forgetting.

A/N: okay, listen, i couldn't help myself from writing this because it was living in my head rent free since i mentioned it in a previous chapter. this takes place between chapters 15 and 16 here on tumblr (17 and 18 on ao3 bc they don't match up, sadly) so, um, yeah 🙃 idk when the next real part of this will be out... but just know blood, sweat, and TEARS are being poured into it. lol anywho, my thoroughfare baddies, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it 🖤 and alliigator tears by beyoncé definitely fits them like a glove. as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Javier leans back against the sticky leather of his couch, the phone pressed against his ear, his voice low and teasing. “So, is this the part where I’m supposed to ask what you’re wearing?”

Her soft giggle floats through the receiver, and he can almost see her biting her lip, playful yet coy. She shifts on her bed, the soft rustling of her sheets barely audible. “You can if you want,” she flirts, “but m’afraid you might be a little disappointed by my answer.”

He chuckles, “I doubt that. You could be wearing a potato sack, and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful girl to ever walk this godforsaken planet.” He’s anything if sincere and it makes her cheeks flush.

She toys with the cord of the phone, fingers tracing the spiral absentmindedly as she tries (and fails) to suppress the smile spreading across her face. “Y’know, Marilyn Monroe did that once,” she informs, leaning back into her pillows. “Just to prove a point.”

“Yeah?” he questions, taking a sip from his beer, “And what point was she trying to make?”

“That she looked good in anythin’.”

“Seems like you two have that in common, then.”

Her laugh is magnitzing, drawing him in. “That’s like, one of the best compliments you can give to a girl.”

“Being compared to Marilyn Monroe? Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I’ll tell you right now— you run laps around her.”

Her blush deepens, staring up at the ceiling in a futile attempt to calm the butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach.

“Oh, stop it.” He always makes her feel like she’s crushing for the very first time.

The soft hum of the phone line hangs between them, a balm against the ache of being apart. Talking over the phone just isn’t enough anymore. Not after tasting each other, not after knowing what it feels like to reach euphoria together.

It’s become almost unbearable to stay away, more difficult than ever before.

He can almost feel the heat of her skin, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. He imagines her sprawled out on her bed, hair fanned out like a halo, lips parted just so.

“Just saying how it is.”

Her hand tightens around the receiver, heart pounding in her chest. She isn’t exactly sure how to navigate this type of call. She can sense it escalating it into more… naughty territory just by the way tension is building over the line. 

It’s something she’s always been curious about, eager to explore, but she’s never had a boyfriend or lover who made her feel bold enough to try it.

And now she has one of the two who is more than willing to indulge.

“What about you?” she whispers in a sultry tone— an attempt to sound confident and not embarrassed. “What are you wearing?”

“Not much,” he admits, the shift in her voice enticing him, which in turn has blood pooling at her cheeks. “Sweatpants, a college t-shirt,” he pauses for a moment, “Thinking about you.”

She bites her lip, the image of him lounging comfortably in his space looking handsome as hell without trying, so close yet so far, sending a thrill through her. “I’m flattered… what exactly are you thinkin’ about?”

“How one of these days I’m going to be selfish enough to keep you in my bed all night. Treat you the way you deserve.” His cock stirs at his own imagination, memories of their date clouding his mind like a beautiful and welcomed storm. “I’m always thinking about you, sweet girl… every inch of you.”

She blinks rapidly. “Javi,” she breathes, “can’t say things like that. Makes it real hard to wanna stay in my own bed tonight.”

“That’s the point,” he replies lowly, using a seductive tone that sends shivers dancing down her spine. “If I didn’t give a fuck about your dad, I’d sneak over and climb your window to show you just how much I want you.”

“I mean… you could…” Her eyes flit over to the open window of her bedroom, imagining his broad frame climbing through and taking her right here on her bed. Her thighs rub together.

“I don’t have a death wish.”

“Honey, dontcha think we’re past that by now?”

He smirks, taking another sip of his beer. “Not entirely in the clear.”

Right. And at the rate they’re going— he’ll never be.

Another bout of silence before he asks, “So… what are you wearing? Told you what I was sporting, it’s only fair that you return the favor.”

Her voice is soft, almost shy, as she answers, “Just a camisole and some sleep shorts.”

He paints a vivid picture of her in those simple clothes, clinging to her curves. It gets him hot all over. “You wearing any underwear?”

There’s a pause, her hesitation makes his pulse quicken. Then, her angelic whisper replies “... No.”

A grunt escapes his lips. “I just know you’re looking real cute right now laying in bed.”

Her lips curl into a small, mischievous smile, “Who said I was layin’ in bed? Could be on the couch… or in the kitchen…”

Javi chuckles knowingly. “You wouldn’t be speaking so freely if that were the case.”

She hums, the sound vibrating through the line, “Hmmm, I guess you’re right.”

Her fingers play with the delicate bow at the front of her camisole, a teasing thought crossing her mind. “There’s a bow tied to the front of my top,” she murmurs seductively, “If I undo it, my tits will spill out.”

A low growl rumbles in his chest. “What a fucking sight that’d be. They’re gorgeous.”

She chews on her lower lip, lightly tugging at the tied string, the tension in her body building. “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah,” words drip with intent. “Love feelin’ them in my hands. Wanna bite and lick all over them, mark them up. Know I’d be able to make you come just by playing with ‘em.”

Her thighs twitch instinctively, a wave of arousal washing over her. She can almost feel his hot breath against her skin, the way his teeth would graze the hardened nub of her nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive area before suckling it into his mouth. The image sends a jolt of pleasure straight to her core, her breath growing ragged.

His smirk is damn near audible as he hears her reaction over the line. “What’s wrong, baby? Wasn’t expecting that?”

She swallows hard, “You and that fucking mouth of yours, Javi.”

Another dark chuckle, words coming out in a low purr. “That’s not even the filthiest thing I could have said.”

Curiosity and arousal bubble within her. “What is, then?”

His voice drops even lower, “I’d latch right onto those pretty tits, querida. Fuck you with my fingers ‘til your pussy is crying for my cock.”

Her hand tightens around the phone, eyes fluttering closed as she lets the scenario he’s planted in her mind take over. The thought of his fingers inside her, stretching her, teasing her, making her lose control, is almost too much to bear.

“Wouldn’t take much— I promise you,” she tells him.

A satisfied laugh rings through the receiver. “Gotta build your tolerance up. It’d be too easy to just give you what you want every time.”

The faint thudding of her neglected clit is slowly but surely driving her crazy. She needs to touch herself, or hell, sneak out her damn self and drive to his place just to have him fuck her.  “S’not very nice to torture me, cowboy.”

“I’m not torturing you, my spoiled girl,” he tilts his head, fingers drumming along the tattered fabric of the armrest, “It’s gonna make it that much better when I finally give you what you need. Gotta warm you up first. Tease you.”

She blows out a breath, heart skipping a beat as he calls her his spoiled girl.  “You do enough of that by not doin’ a goddamn thing. So fuckin’ annoying.”

“I can say the same to you. Damn near half hard any time you’re around.”

She giggles and he smiles, “Does that mean you tug one out when I leave ya?”

“Sometimes… most of the time…”

“And now?” She asks a little boldly.

“With the direction this call is goin’ in, I was hoping we could indulge in that together.”

Her breathing picks up again and attuned as ever, he notices. “You ever done this before, palomita?”

She hesitates, her thumb tracing the curve of the phone. “No,” she admits, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “Not like this.”

There is a beat of silence, and then his soft, reassuring voice breaks her nervousness.  “That’s okay, hermosa. I’ll talk you through it. Just listen to me, and I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of you.”

I’ll take care of you. His words are like a warm embrace, wrapping her in a sense of assurance. Her body tingles with curiosity, nerves, and growing desire. “Okay,” she whispers, her voice small but eager.

He hums, finishing off his beer and placing the empty bottle aside. “Now, I want you to do something for me. Pull the string on your top. Let your tits spill out, princesa.”

Her fingers tremble slightly as she tugs at the string, letting it fall open, pulling the fabric beneath her breasts. The cool air kisses her bare skin, making her shiver.

“Okay, they’re out.”

“So compliant. Me encanta.” He praises tenderly. “Fuck me, I wish I could see you right now. Bet you’re lookin’ good enough to eat.”

A soft whimper spills from her lips, the praise stirring something deep inside her. “Javi,” she breathes, body already aching for more and nothing has happened yet.

“Shhh, just keep listening, baby. Now, slide your shorts down. I want you laying there, all soft and naked, just for me.”

She follows his instructions again, mind swimming with ardor as she kicks off her shorts. She lays back against the pillows, her body exposed for whatever he’s about to throw at her. “Okay, they’re off.” She informs, coyly.

“There we go. Don’t be shy.” He hears it plain as day in her voice. He’s so used to her sharp tongue, her playful teasing when she’s strutting around town like she owns the place. But here, on the phone, she’s different— modest… compliant. He fucking loves that he can elicit this facet of her personality. 

His large hand palms at his erection over the fabric of his sweatpants. “Doing so good. You ready to hear what I’d do to you if I was there?”

Her breath is ragged as she nods, realizing he can’t see her. “Yes,” she whispers.

“I’d kiss you slow at first,” he begins, “down that pretty neck of yours, taking my time, tasting your skin. Always so sweet. Like strawberries and honey all over.” He grunts, squeezing his dick, practically tasting what he’s just described on the tip of his tongue.

Her eyes flutter closed again, her body responding to his every word. Picturing him hovering above her, his lips grazing her neck… she can’t help but let her hand come down to grope her own breast, kneading the full, warm flesh with her free hand. “Oh…” an airy gasp tumbles from her.

“You touchin’ yourself, palomita.”

“Mhm.”

“And when did I give you permission to do that?”

Her eyes snap open, “I-I—”

“It’s okay, I’ll let it slide this time,” he licks across his teeth and she shudders.

This time. Will there be more times? God, please let there be more times.

“What are you touchin’ on?”

“My tits.”

He groans, squeezing his cock, “Fuckin’ perfect. Could spend hours between them. I’d suck those pretty nipples into my mouth, just the way you like.”

Her body arches as if his mouth were already on her. She moans his name and he revels in it, “It feels so good… just hearing you.”

“I know it does,” he says, a cocky smile in his voice. “ I love hearing all your sweet noises. Making me so proud, cariño. Reward yourself by rubbing your clit.”

His words make her bolder, her inhibitions slipping away as lust takes over. “I wish you were here so bad,” she whines, manicured fingers moving down her toned body until they’re between her legs and she spreads her thighs, exposing herself.

When she reaches her clit, her eyes widen at how wet she is— almost not believing how worked up he’s able to get her. Her tone grows needier as she begins to rub wide, slow circles against her sensitive pearl. “I wanna feel you inside me, Javi. Want you to make love to me.”

His breath shudders, the tenderness in her voice slicing through the heated tension. Make love. The words hit him in a way he’s never felt before. He can’t remember the last time someone asked for that— hell, he doesn’t think he’s ever done it. Not with Lorraine, not with Helena, not with anyone. He’s always been about the rough, fast release, the urgency of a quick fuck.

Slowing down, savoring each moment? It never seemed like his thing.

Too intimate.

But now, with Paloma’s soft moans in his ear as she touches herself under his guidance, it’s different. She’s saying his name like it’s sacred, begging him not just to fuck her, but to make love to her. And for the first time, the idea makes him want to lose control in the gentlest way possible.

What a sight she must be sprawled out with her hand between her thighs. “Fuck, I’d love nothing more. You’d feel so damn good wrapped around my dick. I’d go slow. Let you feel every inch of me stretching out your tight cunt, chiquita.”

She mewls, clenching around nothing and slowly picking up the pace with her fingers, smearing her sticky arousal around her pussy, spreading her folds and massaging her labia. “No one’s ever made me feel the way you do, honey. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.”

Her words hit him like a shot of adrenaline, stroking his ego. It drives him wild. “Don’t tell me that,” he growls, his voice strained. “Not when I can’t do anything about it.”

His head falls back against the couch, his teeth gritting as he forces himself to slow down, schooling his hand movements so he doesn’t come so soon. That’s how much power she has over him— how much she gets under his skin in the best way possible.

And it’s killing him that she’s not here, that he can’t reach out and feel her, make good on all the promises in his head and on his tongue.

“You’re everything, Paloma. I’d make you feel like the only woman in the world because that’s what you are to me.”

Her chest tightens, lust and emotion wracking against her ribcage. “You’re the best I’ve ever had,” she admits shakily, words laden with sincerity. And I’ve only fucked him twice!

He lets out a low groan, finally pulling his cock out from the restricting fabric and he pumps slowly, tightening his fist around the heated skin as precome squirts out from his slit. “Damn, palomita. You don’t know what you’re doin’ to me. You’re so perfect. Everything about you is perfect.”

Her confidence soars at his words, body humming. “I’d do anything for you.”

“You don’t have to do a thing but be yourself,” He says this so sincerely, it’s almost painful. “You’re already everything I need, nena. Just you, laying there, listening to me… that’s all I want. Still touchin’ on that pretty pussy?” Just asking her has his shaft twitching in his calloused palm.

The intimacy of his words makes her feel cherished and adored in a way she had never felt before, yet the crudeness of his question makes her feel sexy and desired.

“Y-Yeah.”

“She wet?”

“You know she is.”

“Suck and spit on your fingers then, fuck—” he cuts himself off with a groan, adjusting the phone to rest between his shoulder and ear to bring his hand down to cradle his balls while he picks up the pace at which he’s fucking his fist, “put two inside. Slowly. I want to hear you spit on them.”

She can only assume that he’s also touching himself, and envy curls in her belly— jealous of his hand for being able to have him in a way that she hasn’t yet. 

Her skin prickles as she obeys, her digits messy as they slide up to her mouth. She licks them deliberately, exaggerating the motion so he can hear the wet suction of her lips around her fingers before she spits and some of it dribbles down her hand. The sound is shameless, and it earns her a sharp curse in Spanish from him.

“Dios mío...” His voice is ragged, barely holding on to control. “I want you to spit on my cock like that when I fuck your throat, corazón.”

“Oh my god,” her back bends as she sinks two of her fingers inside her cunt, and while it feels good— it’s nothing compared to how his had felt. So thick and full and calloused. “Javi,” feeling more comfortable, she continues, “I know you’ve got your cock in your hand,” another grunt from him and a ghost of a smirk haunts her plump lips, “Wanna hear you spit in your hand and wrap it around him. Can you do that for me?” She asks, oh so sweetly, almost echoing his words to a T.

He almost comes then and there, that lilt in her tone and the presumable pout on her lips making him feel like he’s dreaming.

He can envision her looking up at him through those thick lashes of hers, mouth parted while his heavy cock hovers over her face. “‘Course baby. Anything for you.”

He brings his palm to his mouth, spitting into it obscenely, and the sound earns a quiet, satisfied sigh from her. The added wetness makes it easier for him to stroke himself, his grip tightening as he imagines her lips around him. “Add another finger,” he demands, “Know you can take it. Just how you take this dick, babygirl.”

Her ring finger joins her pointer and middle, a slight burn comes with the stretch, the pad of her thumb grazing her clit and it makes her hips buck upwards, breasts swaying with the movement and she almost lets the receiver slip from her grasp. “Oh honey, this feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“The things I’d do to be there with you. Wouldn’t even touch you. Just stand there watching as those pretty fingers get swallowed by that tight pussy.” She gasps, curling her fingers and just barely brushing up against that soft spot that makes stars dance in her eyes. The spot he so easily finds and pleasures as if it’s nothing. Like a fucking expert.

“Turn over. On your stomach,” he instructs, twisting his wrist and shuddering at how good the motion feels on his dick. “Put that fine ass in the air.”

She’s dizzy, his instruction almost muddled from the pleasure she feels by fingering herself. She pulls her digits out, core aching from the sudden emptiness. 

She lets the phone slip from her grasp, shuffling onto her stomach, her knees trembling as they dig into the mattress while her ass lifts into the air. The texture of her comforter brushing against her sensitive nipples makes her keen and he hears the faint whine over the crackle of the landline and that makes him dizzy.

She’s never gotten herself off like this before, and her nerves dissolve into excitement as she calls out for him again, phone tucked against her ear, one cheek pressed against the mattress, fingers eagerly awaiting further instruction.

“Put those fingers back inside, baby. I want you to pretend it’s me. Feel how tight you are, how badly your pussy needs me to fill her.”

She writhes under his command, cheeks flushed with arousal, as her hand moves between her legs once more. She slides three fingers inside again, her wet heat wrapping around them, hips instinctively rocking to meet her own touch. “Oh God, Javi,” she moans, quivering as she imagines it’s him, his cock stretching her, buried deep inside her completely.

“That’s it,” he growls, his own hand moving faster, jerking himself with the same intensity he imagines she’s giving herself. “Now bounce on them, pretend it’s my dick.”

She swivels her hips, keeping her wrist locked tight to keep her fingers upright as she begins to ride them in this position. It feels so good, better than anything she could have ever fucking imagined. “Oh jesus fuckin’ christ— Javier I’m not gonna last long, oh fuck—” her words taper off into a loud moan.

He chuckles, dark and husky. “Quiet down before your daddy hears you,” he warns, the thrill of being caught only adding to the fire between them.

She bites her lip hard, body trembling as she tries to keep the pleasure at bay, stifling the sounds that threaten to escape. The phone digs into her ear, his voice the only thing keeping her grounded in the storm of her own lust. “I can’t… it feels too good,” she whispers, breath ragged as her hips buck uncontrollably against her hand.

“I know, princesa,” he purrs, soothing yet commanding. “But you’ve gotta be quiet for me. You don’t want anyone knowing how dirty you’re bein’ right now, do you?”

She shakes her head, even though he can’t see, teeth sinking into her lip to keep her moans at bay. The phone slips slightly from her, resting inches away from her face, his voice still filling her ear as if he were right there with her.

“Wanna ride you so bad,” she’s so drunk off dick she’s getting through a phone call and lewd instructions, “Might not come close to any of your previous whores but I promise I’d make it worth your while.” 

The second she says it, a flicker of insecurity tightens her chest. She doesn’t know where the jealousy comes from, but it’s there, bubbling up from the small pit of doubt she carries inside. Being with a man like Javier— someone who’s been engaged, lived a life so far removed from her small-town world, who knows his way around a woman’s body like second nature— it makes her feel out of her depth.

He’s been with women who’s entire job was to know exactly how to please a man. He’s so confident, so sure of himself, and here she is, fumbling through dirty talk over the phone, trying to measure up to whatever came before her.

How could a small-town girl like her ever compare? She bites her lip, feeling the weight of that doubt creep in, even in the middle of something so intimate.

But she says it anyway, wanting him to know. Wanting him to understand that despite her uncertainty, she’d give him everything.

“Not come close?” He scoffs, “fuckin’ crazy, palomita. You’re already lightyears better than any of ‘em.” He leans over, letting a string of spit fall onto the head of his cock before his fist returns to the quicker strokes he craves. Each movement is fueled by the mental image of her submitting to his every command. “I’d bend you over and pound into you so hard, you wouldn’t be able to think straight. I’d watch that sweet ass bounce back against me, see the way it moves with every thrust.”

His reassurance cuts through the lingering haze of her insecurities. The doubt fades away, replaced by a surge of raw desire. She moans, body rocking against the bed, imagining him behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he takes what he wants.

“Oh yes!” she gasps, her free hand finding her clit, fingers circling it in sync with the thrust of her other hand buried inside her. She’s desperate, moving faster, harder, matching the intensity of his voice in her ear. “I’d take you any way you want. Any way, just to feel you inside me again.”

He curses under his breath, large hand moving with a newfound urgency as he tries to prolong his own orgasm, wanting to hold on just long enough to hear her come undone first. “You’d let me fuck you from behind, wouldn’t you? Let me spank that pretty ass ‘til it’s red, leave my handprints all over your soft skin.”

“God, yes,” she cries, her body trembling with every thrust of her fingers. She feels the pressure building, the tight coil in her belly about to snap. “I’d take it all, Javi. I’d let you fuck me so hard. Scream ‘til my throat is raw, ‘til the only thing I know is your name.”

“You’d be so loud,” he grunts. “I’d have to cover your mouth to keep those pretty screams quiet, wouldn’t I? You’d be cryin’ for me, beggin’ me to stop, but you wouldn’t want me to. You’d love every second of it.”

Her body jerks at his words, digits moving faster as her climax approaches. “S’hard to keep quiet when I’m bein’ fucked by a cock so good. Need you to fill me up,” she gasps, her voice breaking as the pleasure overwhelms her. “Oh shit, I’m gonna come.”

He curses, his own body teetering on the edge as he imagines himself pumping her full of his cum, pulling his cock out and watching his spend drip down onto her pretty pussy. Fuck. “Go on, get yourself off,” he urges, his tone both commanding and tender. “Let me hear you fall apart. You’re doin’ so good for me. I wanna hear you come, palomita.”

With a final thrust of her fingers, her body shatters, her orgasm ripping through her as she mewls his name, her entire being convulsing, shuddering from head to toe. “Javier… oh my God,” she moans, barely contained, as she buries her face in the pillow to muffle the sound.

He lets out a low, primal growl as he follows her over the edge, his body tensing with his own release. “Fuck, Paloma,” he pants, milky spurts dripping over his knuckles, voice filled with both relief and satisfaction.

Hearing her name fall from his lips like that damn near takes her out.

“You’re perfect, baby. So fuckin’ perfect.” He babbles, trying to even out his breathing.

She lies there, her body utterly spent, her breath coming in stuttering gasps, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through her like soft waves.

“Jeez, that was…” She tries to find the words, but they seem to hang just beyond her reach. Heaven. She feels like she’s floating somewhere between realms, tethered only by the soft, steady tone of his voice.

“Yeah,” he breathes, understanding and satisfied. “You don’t even have to say it, nena. I know.” He pauses for a second, and she can almost hear the smile tugging at his lips. “Fuck, give me a second. I gotta clean up this mess I made.”

She giggles, a playful note in her voice as she bites down on her lower lip. She slowly pulls her fingers from her sensitive pussy, savoring the last of the sensation. She brings them to her lips, licking at them. “Take your time. I just cleaned my mess up.” The purposeful loud, wet pop of her lips around her fingers makes him groan in appreciation.

“Evil woman,” he mutters, leaving the phone by the couch as he rushes to clean up in the bathroom. The sounds of running water and his quick movements fill the background before he returns.

She turns to lie onto her back, stretching her limbs like a lounging cat while fixing her top.

“You there?”

“Mhm,” she hums, content and satisfied.

“You did so good, princesa,” he praises very pridefully. “Especially for your first time doing this. You were amazing.” His words are sincere, the tenderness unmistakable.

She feels a flutter in her chest, her heart skipping at the praise. Hearing how pleased he was makes her glow with pride. “Really?” she asks a bit bashfully.

“Really,” he confirms, the smile in his voice clear. “I knew you’d be amazing, but damn, you blew me away.”

She’s over the moon, her cheeks flushing with excitement. “I can’t wait to do it again,” she admits, her eagerness bubbling to the surface now that the initial nervousness has faded.

“We won’t have to just do this over the phone for much longer. We’ll have all the time in the world to do whatever we want together. No rushing, no holding back, no sneaking around.” There’s a warmth that coats his words, that speaks to more than just the physical side of their relationship. While the thought of tangling up with her in the comfort of his sheets sounds like fucking paradise, it’s not what he’s most eager for.

What he’s looking forward to, more than anything, is being able to walk hand-in-hand with her in the open, to take her out in public, proudly. To share with the world how happy she makes him, how proud he is to have such a remarkable woman by his side. Never one for public displays of affection before— he’s always been too guarded, too private— but with her, everything’s different. She’s shifting his perspective on so much, and though it unsettles him sometimes, he’s found he doesn’t mind the change. Not with her.

“Anything you want. Whether it’s in bed or out. You being content is all I care about.”

Her heart stirs, fluttering with emotion at the way he always puts her needs first, making sure she’s more than content. It’s that selflessness of his, the way he cares for her, that has her falling even harder. He always brushes it off, insisting he’s the opposite, but she sees through that. He’s good to her— so much more than he gives himself credit for.

“You make me feel so special,” she murmurs softly as she stares up at the ceiling, a dreamy smile playing on her lips. “It’s like you always know exactly what I need.”

“That’s because you are special, Paloma,” the sincerity of his words making her chest ache in the best way. “You deserve that and more. I just wanna make sure you’re always happy.”

She swallows hard, feeling the weight of what he’s saying. There’s no doubt in her mind anymore. She’s in love with him— completely. How could she not be? He’s everything she never knew she needed: protective, caring, and so damn thoughtful, even when he’s not trying to be. It’s like second nature to him.

He lets out a soft, almost bashful laugh, a sound so rare it makes her stomach tighten. “You just don’t know how lucky I am to have you.” There’s a vulnerability in his voice that catches even him by surprise. “I adore you so much.”

The openness in his confession after everything that’s just transpired between them, hits her like a wave. She’s used to the way he keeps his emotions guarded, but this side of Javier— the unguarded, raw version— is something new, something precious. Maybe it’s the clarity that comes after the release, or maybe it’s been simmering inside him for a while now, but he feels compelled to express it, to let her know how deeply she’s embedded herself in his life.

And it’s uncharacteristic for him, this kind of vulnerability. He’s always been the strong, silent type, the one who doesn’t talk about his feelings unless absolutely necessary. But her, in her gentle, unassuming way, has a way of bringing it out of him, coaxing him to show sides of himself he’s kept hidden for years. Just like he can draw out her vulnerability in sex, she shines a light on his softer edges, the parts of him that long to be known, to be seen.

“Now get some rest,” he continues, his words a tender caress. “I’ll see you soon.”

She blinks rapidly, her vision blurring as her eyes well up with unshed tears. There’s an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love swelling in her chest, making it hard to breathe for a moment. He’s not the kind of man to throw words around carelessly— when he says something like this, it holds weight, it means something.

A part of her, the cautious part that’s been guarding her heart, once would have hesitated, would have put up a wall to protect herself from getting hurt again. But there are no warning bells going off this time. No second-guessing that they’ve both crossed a threshold where they’re truly seeing each other for who they are— flaws and all. And it’s enough.

“And I adore you, Javi.” They’re not saying the word love just yet, but it’s there, nestled between the lines of their words. For now, this is enough. It works for them

“Goodnight, cowboy,” she adds with a soft smile, the familiar endearment laced with warmth and affection.

“Goodnight, palomita. Sweet dreams.”

They linger for a moment, neither one wanting to hang up just yet, their shallow breathing filling the line.

“Thank you… for everything,” she murmurs without really thinking, not just thanking him for tonight, but for proving to her that she was more than just another woman being used to exorcise his demons.

He lets out a soft snort, “If anyone should be thanking someone, it’s me to you, cariño,” he says, his voice gentle yet firm. “For giving me a second chance. I know I don’t deserve redemption, but I’d move heaven and earth for you. You know that, right?”

Her heart skips a beat, overwhelmed by his convinction. She knows, without a doubt, that he’s telling the truth. He’s already done enough to show his sincerity, and she feels that trust settling in her bones now.

There’s no hesitation. Just a quiet, steadfast belief that this— whatever they’re building— is real, and it’s good.

“I know, Javi. I know.”

And with that, they finally hang up, leaving both of them with a sense of newfound sense of peace. Hearts feels lighter, fuller, and as she lies back against the pillows, she can’t help but smile, knowing that with him, she’s found that something she’s always yearned for.

[peaches2217]

how do you personally envision Mario and Peach (and/or others)? Like if you could draw them, how would they look? Physique? Significant height differences? Super poofy dress for Peach? Hairy arms and body for Mario? (Already know the answer to this ;)) I know you’re a fan of chubby Peach, but what does your mind picture when writing them?? 🤔

This got long and has visual aids aplenty, so Mareach body and outfit headcanons below the cut!

First up, body headcanons! The closest I could find to how I envision Mario is this ridiculously handsome man named Louis Kwong Jr.: fat but muscular, overall stout build, and, of course, an abundance of body hair, because I’m not weird about that at all.

I had to thumb through bear porn just to find what I was looking for. Consequently, that means this dude’s dick is on the internet for all to see, so exercise caution if you look him up.

For Peach, I take inspiration from the absolutely stunning Kristine Thompson. She’s tall, she’s curvaceous, and she’s the picture of elegance and feminine confidence. I hc Peach’s chest being a little smaller, but still generally large.

Height-wise, I put them at 5’1 and 6’, which would put the top of Mario’s head right about at shoulder level with Peach; she typically wears kitten heels and he wears work boots with thick soles, so that difference doesn’t change much based on whether they’re wearing shoes or not. Size-wise, they’re both somewhere in the realm of 200+lb, though Mario is larger and heavier than Peach since he’s so much shorter, and since he’s got as much muscle as he does fat.

I couldn’t figure out how to change the colors, lest I would’ve made them red and pink. I wish there was an option to tailor the weights too, ‘cause this just looks weird 😭

As far as clothing goes, Peach is all about dresses, the longer and flowier, the better! She enjoys miniskirts and will wear pants or shorts when it’s more practical, but maxi dresses are what makes her heart sing loudest. She opts for Big and Poofy when going about her business in the castle or for formal occasions/ceremonies and looser, simpler offerings like sundresses when going casual. She’ll wear darker colors every once in a blue moon, but she loves bright, cheerful colors most of all, pink and white and orange and yellow and the likes.

That last one miiiiight be AI, but it came from a photoset that was clearly an actual human modeling the actual dress, so I’m fairly certain it’s just heavily airbrushed. If I’m in the wrong then I’ll happily find a replacement!

Hair! I’m a Curly Haired Mario truther myself. The curls I picture him with tend to fall between 3a and 3c, depending on who you ask, but this is the closest visual representation I’ve found to my vision (just in a lighter shade of brown):

Peach’s hair is very long, very thick, and slightly wavy (somewhere between 1c and 2a). She enjoys brushing and pampering it with products, but the only way she gets it to stay in place is via her magic (which also keeps her makeup perfect, no matter how many wringers she’s put through on any given day). It puffs up considerably when it’s humid.

I was gonna include more character appearance headcanons as a bonus, but Tumblr keeps screaming at me for adding so many images to a single post, so if there’s any more y’all are curious about, ask away and I’ll give them their own posts!

[majesticallyunmagestic]

Hi! I saw a post you made back in June, when you were kinsidering a bunch of Hazbin characters. If I may ask, are you still kinsidering? Have you confirmed any of them?

I'm fictionflicker, and very recently confirmed Lucifer (specifically, pre-fall, but whatever). I'd love to talk to someone who might have similar experiences :)

HIHIHIHIHIHI waves at youuuu!!!!!!!! I did kinfirm!!!!!

I kinfirmed Lucifer as well :]] p sure this one's psychological but!!!!! He's one of the first I kinfirmed

I also kinfirmed Vox, which is??? Matching the "blue and/or ego-to-mask-inferiority-complex" theme I have with the rest of my kins, and shifts with him are always. Like if Katsuki Bakugo was Capable of at least Pretending to be Calm(im allowed to make fun of Katsuki because That Is Me /j).

Sometimes I get bouts when I miss Charlie, and one time I almost cried because of Lilith once(it was a whole thing I'll talk about later if you're curious, anon!), othertimes I miss Valentino(knowing full well what he's done and I'm not condoning his behavior) or Alastor(I guarantee you missing Alastor is thanks to my partner who Kins Alastor /lying)

One thing I've noticed is I really like the idea of Vox having a tail thats like an outlet plug?(can draw(not well) if this is confusing) and I'm not sure if its I Widh I Had This or I Did Have This but I choose to believe its the second thing lol

Sometimes I wonder if I am Husk or Angel still, but I'm fairly certain it's no more than Gender Envy(I crave Husk's deep voice and also Angel's sense of fashion </3)

I think?????? That's it????? Currently fixated on Others in the Kinsidering Pile(and Wolverine 💔💔💔💔I cringe at myself you guys dw) but if you have more questions feel free to send another ask or dm me!!! Dms are always open to anyone who wants to!!

[hellonearthtoday]

3, 5, 7, 14

Thank you 😌I needed a break from this damn drawing

3. Who is your favorite character outside the main 7?

This is kind of harddd man 😭 born to say Cherry forced to say Curly. Cherry's a character that we actually saw more of, but I have this idea of Curly in my head that's so perfect to me...he's like half my oc...I'm superrr attached to Cherry but I do have to be real w myself cuz whenever I see Curly's name mentioned in any fic or any post it's like a wild lion sighting i get sooo hype

5. What are your favorite ships?

this is NOT hard. My favorite ship is purly I'm an evil purly shipper. I don't typically do shipping because I'm that aroace who is romance repulsed not just for myself but in the media I consume too, but idk something about their dynamic I've half made up in my head abt them...I guess I just really like the dynamic of 2 bros who are friends who might also fall in love We dont know

MARBIT. I really like couples who just giggle together. Couples who justtt rock w eachotherrr something about them....Also they got that forbidden love thing going on and idk the power of laughter could save them. But other than that I'm a platonic power ranger

7. What are your fave non-romantic relationships? (This can be close friends, familial, enemies or even just acquaintances)

This thang is about to get so long. I love non romantic relationships sooo bad I'm romance's biggest hater.

TBH can i say purly here too....they got a friends to lovers thing going on I'll shut up abt them for once this time though.

Johnny and Pony are really the best friends ever, and my idea of them might be fandom crutched more than what's shown in canon, but It don't matter anyway that book came out a bajillion years ago.

Johnny and Dally. I know the jally nation is huge and unstoppable and I can kindaaa see where you're coming from even w how I am...but in my head they aren't brotherly or romantic they're a secret third thing. No labels no nothing. They have something that none of us can touch and it's not romantic to me but they're tgt in every universe

Dally and Ponyboy idk they're funny to me. Like 2 cats put into a fighting ring and one is evil and one just want to sleep and go home idk

CHERRY AND PONYBOY I START CHEWING ON THE WALLS WHEN I SEE THEM PIT AGAINST EACHOTHER IN FICS OR WHEN CHERRY IS BARELY THERE goddd i msis them so much there's something so special to me about an opposite sex friendship that prevails even though it's not seen as a normal thing people do at the time.

14. Tell us five of your headcanons you basically see as canon

POC shepards. It's just kind of real man. I like seeing all the different versions the fandom comes up with but they're a black latino family to me <3

Johnny and Curly hating each other so bad. I think it's the funniest thing ever. Especially if they just don't like eadchother solely off of vibes ...or Curly doesn;t like Johnny bcz Johnny doesn't like him and he's like wtf 😕

It's never said outright but Johnny has anxiety disorder to me.

Ponyboy has low empathy and he just does things out of the kindness of his heart and not bcz "treat people how u want to be treated" bcz whatever LOL! he's autistic to me whatt who said that

PB talks really casually but also somehow rlly awkwardly, and u think he's just chill like that but he's just autistic. He could hate your ass but he talks like some unsocialized forest nymph so you dont know bcz he sounds so docile

[inkys-anime-blog]

One Piece Surfer AU

This was a long ramble session put together by myself and my friends Jordon, @fashionable-hamster , @incomingalbatross , and @thehappybaker .

If anyone wants to draw these or muse around in this AU, please feel free (and tag me!) We had so much fun coming up with these!

Things that are the Same

Devil Fruits are still a thing (mostly because it's really funny if they're surfers and can barely swim. They all wear inner tubes and water wings.)

Crew Compositions are also the same! They are now teams.

Sea Kings and assorted monsters are still here. They are, in fact, more common. The job of Life Guard is not only to keep people from drowning, but to fight monsters so your friends can surf in peace.

World Changes

Almost every dead character you can think of is alive. Because this is a fun, low stakes AU.

"King of the Pirates" is now "King of the Waves", you become a Yonko by being an Olympic Gold Medalist, you become "King of the Waves" by beating all of the Yonkos in a competition.

The goal of "World's Greatest Swordsman" has been changed to "World's Greatest Lifeguard." The way you move up in ranks for it is by competing in underwater feats of power (holding your breath, underwater wrestling, spotting and saving drowning people, performing rescue maneuvers.) It is all incredibly competitive and intense.

Doctors tend to pool supplies and set up a single medical tent, but more intense competitions mean they'll stay apart.

The Celestial Dragons have bought up most of the local public beaches. Surfing on them is considered illegal, but that doesn't stop any of the crews/teams.

The Marines are now local police who are trying to keep the surfers from the private beaches. Sometimes it escalates to fighting, but not too often. It's more like a race to surf before the police show up, it adds time and tension to competitions.

The Revolutionaries are a skateboarding gang who are committing actual crimes trying to bankrupt the city. They are treated with less attention than the surfers, somehow.

Strawhat Headcanons

The Thousand Sunny is a massive surfboard that all the team can fit on. They don't use it super often, but Franky made it for fun one day and they have a good time zipping around together.

Luffy is almost unchanged. He wants to be King of the Waves, he goes around recruiting buds to help that happen. He is more than willing to solve these problems by beating people up. It's Luffy.

Zoro is training to be the World's Greatest Lifeguard. He mostly focuses on paddling around and killing monsters that try to attack his friends, he's group protector in any AU. His backstory is similar as well, Kuina dying and leaving him her family life preserver. He and Sanji sit on the edge of the group surfboard, they're both very worried about their friends falling in.

Nami and Nojiko were illegally taken in by Bellemere. Nami has a supernatural sixth sense for when storms and strong waves are coming in, which was noticed by Arlong. Arlong threatened to reveal the illegal adoption to the police if she didn't come work for him and his team. Nami agreed, but once Luffy finds out, he contacts Whitebeard and get into a fierce legal battle to keep Nami and her family safe and away from Arlong. She's now living out the childhood she always wanted, spending time with friends and surfing instead of being under Arlong's control. Bellemere is running her tangerine orchard and shows up to their competitions a lot, mostly to cheer on her kid and hand out orange slices like a soccer mom.

Ussop runs a kid's swimming school! He's really popular because he's great with kids. People want to get their kids in love with swimming so they're less likely to impulsively eat devil fruits lolol. He's always wanted to be a surfer, and he jumps at the chance when Luffy comes their way. Kaya buys them fancy new surfboards and she's one of their most dedicated sponsors.

Sanji used to work in a five star restaurant, but ended up shifting to make his own top-class food truck so he can be with the crew and go to different competitions. Zeff sponsors the Strawhats so that Nami stops stealing the rival team's wallets to pay for gas money. (She still does, but less often now.)

Chopper is still a reindeer boy, and he wasn't able to go to normal school because of it. He was homeschooled by his parents, who are both doctors. He's enjoying his first taste of a real childhood with the Strawhats, and Hiriluk and Kureha come to what competitions they can.

Robin is a former CIA agent turned lawyer. She has gotten the Strawhats and teams they're friendly with out of SO many legal issues. She wears water wings on All of her Arms when she goes out to surf. She still does archeology on the side as a fun hobby.

Brook's backstory is mostly unchanged. He used to be on a great group of surfers, but when they were on a boat trip, their drinks were poisoned by a rival team. He washed up a skeleton by the Strawhat's van. He had made friends with Laboon, but since Laboon has faced some issues in the wild, he was moved by a wildlife conservation center. Brook is traveling the coast with the Strawhats to try to find him again, checking with every wildlife center they pass.

Jinbe is tired. He was a city council member, and left when it became horribly corrupt. He's reliving his old days of surfing with the Strawhats, and he's specifically helping Zoro be a better swimmer.

Non Strawhat Headcanons

Shanks and his crew run a nice little bar. They're renowned for their surfing skills, but they're holding back from competitions for awhile so the kids get their chance to shine. Shanks is known as "that guy who once surfed a tsunami so well he reversed it. Somehow."

Whitebeard is a CPS worker. He has worked at this tirelessly for decades, and ends up fighting a fierce legal battle for Nami, and then later Ace, both of which he wins!

Ace (which was actually how this entire thing started for me) is super competitive and travels around almost as much as the Strawhats do. He wears his hat surfing because of course he does. He's got to be very careful using his Devil Fruit, but he's pulled off some crazy stunts with it.

Buggy the Clown runs a water show with super talented performers; water aerialists, dolphins, even some surfing like the others! He is a terrible surfer but manages to fail upwards into winning an Olympic medal. Whoops!

Vivi is a mayor's daughter and is constantly campaigning for better protection for the local beaches. She's managed to get her hometown safe for the teams to compete at, but she doesn't have a lot of sway outside them, and she had to fight against a certain local business to get that far. She's studying abroad in Europe after she helped, and they miss her a lot :(

Crocodile (mentioned above with Vivi) owns a casino near the beach. Luffy hit him with a supersoaker of ocean water once for putting a hit out on Vivi. I have nothing else for him except "he makes crazy sandcastles"

Mihawk is the World's Greatest Lifeguard, and most of the time people practice perfect water safety around him because he's SCARY to be rescued by. Those eyes....

Most of the first mates (Zoro, Bepo, Killer) are training to be lifeguards. Their captains have devil fruits, they have to.

Corozon is the Heart Pirate's biggest supporter. He loves watching them compete. He's working with Bellemere in her orchard, they know each other from their old police days.

Blackbeard's favorite activity is snitching on other surfers so they get interrupted by the police. He also likes knocking people off their boards. He's never invited to these things, he just shows up.

Uta showed up once to cheer on Luffy, but Blackbeard dropped her location online. The beach got swarmed by fans and they had to cancel :( But she still comments on Nami's social media posts about the competitions and voices her support!

Gecko Moria owns a terrible "haunted water ride" experience and it's terrible and rundown. Kuma, who works for OSCHA, shows up to shut it down but the crew has already beaten up everyone there because someone was being a creep to Nami.

That's all for now! Might add more later as they come up!

Please please reblog <3 I want to hear people's ideas!

[pursuitseternal]

“Recalling:” update to ETL Astarion x Tav(OC) in “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x F!OC | E | 3.5K Dark Tragic Backstory

Summary: dawn before battle, Cordehlia ponders her past, recalling the monster she was… reassured by her companions that even monsters need someone to lead them, accept them, and in Astarion’s case, lust for her…

Dawn, Goblin Camp raid, Rescuing Halsin, Unaliving the Goblin leaders

CW: Violence, bloodshed, blood kink(umm vampire), trauma bonding with Karach and Astarion, Dark

Backstory for our F!OC, massive amounts of flirtation with the Vampire, effective use of the Tadpole as a way of communicating said Dark Backstory with everyone, NPC character death…

Previous chapter | ao3 link | Astarion Masterlist

Chapter 5: Recalling

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

Dawn kissed the woods, the soft light breaking, making the Emerald Glade really, truly verdant. Aptly named, Cordehlia thought to herself, sitting atop the knoll. She looked down into the sun. It had been decades since she had last stared into the sun, the dawn before battle.

But old habits die hard, as she knew. And a hundred years of shedding blood became more than muscle memory for her. A hundred years of the same pleading before her blade tasted flesh, begging for forgiveness, begging for mercy from the lives that would be taken today.

Pleading that when she falls to the slow embrace of death, that her judgment would be swift and just.

She could hear the rustling of her band awakening with the light. Strange, she pondered, musing how they all trusted her unendingly. Recalling all that she had done. Recalling all she had been. Foul and dark.

If they knew who walked among them… even the mortals, so young compared to her and the longevity of her sins… surely even they had heard tales…

Cordehlia took a deep breath, her mind turning quickly from those memories of battle. She tried to bury herself in that feeling of him…

That kiss, Gods had it felt good. Unchanged by the erosion of time, his fervor, his devotion. The pure flame that was Astarion’s soul, bright as the stars he was named for.

She could taste him, not as the vampire he became, but as… the one whose soul she had loved. It was magical, as if time itself stood still, being consumed by him, feeling his remembrance, the way his body transported her two-hundred years. It was… eerily the same. His hands… his taste… the little tangles of his tongue between her lips.

She closed her eyes. Gods, if she could give anything to reclaim that feeling, of being thrown back before… before all this darkness and blood. For both of them. Recalling what was once good about her…

Footsteps drawing up the hill made her almost leap from her skin, her fingers patting her cheeks, as if she could hide the blush that thinking of him called to her face. She didn’t want him to see her lusting after him so badly. Not yet, even though she suspected he would be more than pleased… perhaps pleasured even.

Gods, she swallowed at the thought.

Clearing her throat, she turned to smile at the uninvited company, but it wasn’t a handsome pale face leering down at her.

Karlach grinned, sparking brighter than the dawn. Her unabashedly joyful smile made her stomach sicken. “Seems I’m not the only soldier that needs a moment before battle, eh?”

“Seems that way,” she forced a smile, her hand patting the ground beside her a split second before Karlach helped herself to the company.

“You know, Cordehlia,” she spoke, drawing her knees into her chest. “I can see the way you love and hate the battle. Something you’re good at, maybe too good. But not something you chose for yourself, isn’t that it?”

“How…” the She-elf turned, every nerve in her body on fire to defend.

But Karlach just laughed quietly. “Because it’s a mirror to myself. I didn’t choose to become… what I am… Advocatus Diaboli, as Wyll was so quick to label me.”

She swallowed, voice still steady, even as Cordehlia could feel the pain flowing from her Tiefling companion. “I was also taken, not unlike your vampire boyfriend.”

Cordehlia groaned, but let the insinuation pass.

With a breath, she continued. “I was robbed of a future, imprisoned, experimented on… made into the person I am through no choice of my own.” Then, she turned those glowing eyes on the elf beside her. “But that doesn’t make me anything less than what I am. It doesn’t change my freedom now, you know, same as Astarion,” she nodded her head somberly, “same as you.”

Cordehlia scoffed. “I’m not free, however.”

The pain in her voice even pierced her own heart.

“I was never forced into being the dark thing I was… and I didn’t choose to stop being the creature I had become. I was forced to stop. I… I loved it. I lived for it, when I was in the deepest throes of that life. It was… thrilling. Addicting.” She breathed, bunching her own knees into her chest, same as her friend. “But I was brought before the High Council, deemed too dark for my own kind. I was forced to retire, to live peaceably alone. To atone for my sins and darkness…” She looked into Karach’s worried face. “You wonder why I’m not quick to condemn anyone as a monster? It’s because I would be their queen. I can’t condemn those who are less monstrous than I.”

Karlach said nothing, watching as Cordehlia turned her face into the light again. Watching those silver eyes flutter shut, her chest shaking with breaths as she struggled to continue. “They even told stories about me, to scare the young ones into submission, all along the Sword Coast, they still tell the fables about… what I was…”

A hot hand rested on the top of her knee. “If it helps, it is what you once was…” she grimaced, “once were.” She laughed at the correction. “And we monsters are glad for your company, your leadership, Cordehlia.”

The elf met her gaze then, as the tiefling’s hand slipped away. Her chin shook, eyes wet with unshed tears. Karlach just gave her a gentle, reassuring smile, “Hey, soldier, if anyone knows what it’s like to put yourself back together after being made a war machine, it’s me, okay?”

“Thank you,” she managed to reply.

“Now,” Karlach stood and smiled. “I’ve got your back, and you still got your soul, you hear me?” She waited for a teary breath and a nod. “Let’s go get a Druid who can get these things out of our brains and take out some Goblins, eh?”

Cordehlia managed a laugh, rising to her feet as well, hiding the sniffle she made as they walked back down to camp.

But her heart rapt harshly in her ribs to see the first face that sought her out as she made it back.

Astarion grinned his greeting, flashing those beautiful, terrifying fangs at her. “Morning, my sweet,” he bid, so happily. “I don’t know about you, but I had some of the most… delicious dreams…” That genteel grin twisted, desirous and bright. “Let’s just say there was a lot of pale skin, soft breasts and bright red hair everywhere I wanted it to be…”

Her stomach lurched. The rush of emotions from grief to lust, from self-loathing to desire… She placed a hand on her belly, her insides heaving at the all-too-rapid shift of her heart.

His eyes narrowed, scanning her blanching face before following the wake of the Tiefling. “What’s the matter?” he queried, harsh in tone. “Did Karlach do something to you?”

“No,” she took a breath, waiting for her body to return to her. “I’m fine.”

“You look it, darling.” He chuckled sarcastically, “Fine, I mean.”

“What? Not delicious?” she threw the taunt back. Her head clearing, her muscles easing.

“Always,” he growled, that sultry smirk instantly replacing any trace of concern. “For a moment I was worried that the idea of us fucking made your stomach sour,” he continued.

She gave a disbelieving laugh. “Once, it would have, you know,” she chimed, letting the barb catch him off guard.

He gasped in feigned injury, “Darling, I would be wounded,” he drew himself closer to her body, that slow, stealthy creep that made her shiver, “if it weren’t for the resounding past-tense of what you say…”

The implication hung in the air between them, in whatever minimal distance did remain between their bodies. And Codehlia let it, grinning, mouth twitching to think that it wasn’t inaccurate, his reading.

But she drew back a step. “You do know it’s morning, dawn before battle? We have much to accomplish before anyone can even dream of such delightful pursuits.”

“Yes yes,” Astarion flicked his wrist before tapping both hands on the sheathed daggers at his waist. “Infiltrate the nasty little Goblins, get the Druid, get these worms out of our heads…”

“Precisely,” she began to turn, but his cold, iron grip caught her hand from her side, pulling her after him, commandingly leading her back into his tent.

“I need to tell you,” he spoke quickly, quietly, once the flap fell behind her. “I’m not too fond of the idea of a Druid joining our ranks,” he grimaced. “They are loud and hot-blooded, and so… earthy.” His eyes skimmed over her body. “And they will be eager to mate with anything and everything they set eyes upon…”

“Jealous?” she grinned, folding her arms across her chest, an amused smile teasing her lips.

“Of course,” he replied coolly, eyes narrowing to that half-lidded stare that seemed to pierce right through the clothing she wore. “After all, I am just beginning to remember who I was… what we were… I would hate for some lusty wildform to waltz in here and ruin things.”

“Funny,” she continued to taunt. “You didn’t seem too worried about a human warlock the other night.”

“Please,” he shook his head, all wry-humored and sultry. “As if…” he gagged, “Wyll,” he spat the name in disgust, “could compare to my levels of charm and good looks.” He took a breath, his face softening in a seconds, crimson eyes wide as he looked down on her. “Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to tell you. I wanted to, to thank you for all our little understanding…”

Her brows furrowed. “Of letting you feed?”

“Yes, naturally,” he nodded. Sincere in every outward way. “You were my first you know…”

Her lips pressed firmly at his words, almost imperceptible, but he took note of the reaction. A little further hint to their past, perhaps, that he stashed away.

“You are my first living blood, first thinking blood. Drinking from one such as you was forbidden me. I was made to live on rats, mice, foul vermin, or starved until I was nearly too weak to be good for anything. That was my… reward… for the victims I would lure back for Cazador.” He spat the name. “A moldering rat as a treat for my obedience.” He huffed a disparaging laugh, scanning her questioning gaze. “I can see your thoughts, darling, why not just try to feed on my own? Well, as if I could disobey his command not to even try to sample something else.”

He looked so forlorn. As if even the words he shared couldn’t possibly describe what it was he endured. Suffered.

Unphased, he continued, “That’s the thing about vampire spawn, you know, they are compelled to obey, forced in their bodies to do… whatever is ordered of them.”

A moment passed between them before he looked up. Her eyes were soft, her face rife with concern. He was glad of it.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “For telling me.”

“I only wanted you to know my plight before we add another rutting male to our midst,” he crooned with a sneer. “I depend on you, you know, darling….”

Cordehlia gave a little hum, patting the chilled cheek of her rogue. “If you wanted to make certain I value you, Astarion, you don’t need to go to such lengths to convince me, you know.” She smiled, “A simple, please allow me to keep feeding on you, would suffice. Though your way with words is so skilled and eloquent.” Her brows raised as he began to smile too, “Even more than I recall.”

“Two hundred years of living on nothing but your wits and good looks makes you learn all things new,” he taunted in reply. Even as his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Is that why you pulled me in here alone, Astarion?” she pressed.

“Well…” he flashed that look again, the one rife with danger that made her belly flutter. “I wanted you to be my first thinking blood, you know… I wanted to know how you tasted.”

That last word sent her stomach fluttering again, her nerves burning.

“I wanted to thank you for such a favor, darling. And after the way you kissed me yesterday…”

“You kissed me, you mean?” she taunted, her face unmoving as she watched him take the barb in perfect stride. Making him smirk all the wider. All the hungrier.

“Regardless, you seemed to… enjoy it too. It just gave me ideas… of ways to thank you properly, you know.”

“Oh,” she grinned, innocent and bouncing on her toes. “You mean like fighting in battle today? Being a critical part of our party? Keeping me from losing all control on the battlefield?”

“And why would I do that?” he purred, letting his fingers stroke up the sheathed blade that hung at her side. “You are most attractive in battle from what I have seen. Magnificent, intelligent. Do not deny yourself that chance to shine, darling.” He leaned closer until his breath passed between her panting lips. “And besides, I’m certainly hoping that bloodlust from today becomes plain, old, carnal lust by nightfall.”

Her face is hardened, a distant fire behind her eyes. Her breathing is so faint, he had to lean in close to even hear it. “Take care, Ancunín,” she hissed. “You have yet to see the real monster that lurks beneath me in battle.”

“I hope she’s fearsome to behold,” he grinned, letting his hand wander up from her weapon, grazing her hip to tug her just that bit closer, to pull her against his body. “I’m sure she is nothing to be ashamed of, as one monster to another.”

She shivered under his touch. “You are not one, not compared to me.”

“Well, as you have said to me, darling, when you’re ready, I’ll listen. I’m all pointy ears, love.”

That made her huff a laugh, a slight smile peeking at the corner of her lips.

Nothing could come from her mouth. No words. No amount of gratitude, of awe for the way he didn’t push or recoil. His hand just pressed into her lower back, his lips waiting to see what she would do.

Hells take it if she didn’t give him a little sign of her thanks. She raised on her toes, pressing her lips to his.

Almost surprised, he accepted it, her quick little peck, letting her step away, out of the shadows of his tent.

—————

The goblin camp stank, just as they all had, Cordehlia wrinkled her nose.

At least, the Druid was freed. But victory was far from near. Halsin brimmed with gratitude, even as Astarion failed to hide his eyes rolls. “Funny way of showing thankfulness, giving us another mission,” he grumbled as they left the Druid behind. Three Goblin leaders to dispatch would be no meager task.

Cordehlia shushed him, but he only continued to hiss his complaints as they crept deeper into the camp. “I’ll try not to think of it as helping, mind you, just gaining some other opportunities to dispatch more of these Goblin trash…”

“How altruistic of you,” Gale let the sarcasm fly in reply.

Astarion turned that insincere smirk at the Wizard. “You all keep using that word to describe my choices. I’m beginning to think you’re the ones who don’t know its meaning….”

“Hush,” Cordehlia rounded on the pair of them, only making Kalrach snigger as well. “We must be cautious, these are no dumb Goblins. They think us True Souls. It will take cunning, especially against Drow warrior Minthara…”

As if on command, the entryway opened to a greet chamber, the dark skinned, ruthless Drow bellowing orders at the other end.

Her sharp gaze glanced quickly. Her smile sickeningly twisted. “Speak, are you here to join the battle?”

Cordehlia stepped with all the confidence centuries of bloodshed could give her. “Hail, True Soul,” the She-elf nodded her head. “We are sent to aid in the ravaging of the Grove.”

“Prove it,” Minthara snipped, her hand drawing her blade. “You are not Goblin nor Drow, and as such, I have no qualms with spilling your guts on the ground for fodder.”

“Very well,” Cordehlia replied, more exacting in her voice than even her foe.

She raised her hand, calling upon the worm…

The ground ran red. Blood. Elven and wizard and alien, it smelled delicious. Her feet squelched in it, the lives of her enemies drained by her hand. She resheathed her dagger, bright metal, etched with a signet near the tang.

A Raven, a black bird in a dive.

She began to brush the blood from her coal-black armor. The pattern of feathers collecting the crimson running down her body.

Cordehlia took a deep breath, looking at her field of glory one more time. For her people. For herself.

Everyone gasped as they returned to the caves, their consciousness all stunned as her band looked at Cordehlia, up and down. Their minds all linked by the worm, her vision in their heads too. The recalling of her past, dark and bloodied, as it broke upon them all.

“My my,” Minthara crooned, impressed as she resheathed her blade. “I know of that blade, that chilling reputation. The Absolute surely knows how to choose souls for her service. It has been ages since you have been seen, isn’t that right?”

“Half a century, by the reckoning of my people,” she replied, her tone distant. Harsh. “They would like to think I’m dead. Forgotten.”

“That will not be your fate with the Absolute, and not with me, my Lady Corvus,” Minthara bowed. Low, bending at the waist.

She could hear the way her band’s breath froze. But she couldn’t reply. Not yet. “My company of True Souls needs a moment of respite, if you will give it to us. Those damned Druids depleted our resources, but we know where they are. My scout will give you the location once we tend to our needs, Lady Minthara.”

“Of course,” smiled the Drow, dismissing them with a wave.

She held her head high, marching them down to the corner of the cavern. Of course, it was Gale who stared Cordehlia square in the eyes once they were alone. “The Lady Corvus, Bone Picker, most intelligent elven warrior of her kind, so ruthless in battle, every bone of her enemies was left bare.”

She shook her head. “You see now,” she sighed. Mouth twitching. Eyes cold. “You all pale in comparison to me, no one can match my monstrosity.”

“Ahem,” Astarion cleared his voice right beside her. “First of all, you say pale and monstrosity like they’re bad things….”

“Astarion!” Gale snipped to interrupt, but the Pale Elf just held up his hand to silence him.

“You don’t know half the things I’ve done… that perhaps any of us have done. And yet you don’t turn us away,” he continued. His voice was smooth, gentle, not dripping in seduction, but wrapped in comfort. “We won’t turn from you either, you know, whether you are Lady Corvus, or just Cordehlia.”

“That’s right, soldier,” Karlach was the first to pat her on the shoulder. Rough and steady. “Why, I’ve severed more heads than I’ve kissed faces.”

“I’ve damned a thousand souls for Cazador’s meals,” Astarion added, a smile on his face. “Bet I’ve done worse than you, Lady Corvus…”

“You wish to compare body count?” she gave a single, dark laugh.

“Well, we know whose hands are bloodier now at any rate,” he quipped.

“You mean face, I believe,” Karlach pointed as she guffawed.

“Shhh,” Cordehlia suddenly held up her hands. “We are supposed to be evil. Not some silly band of youths here to loot and pilfer.”

“Tch,” Astarion smirked. “You’re no fun if we can’t do that…”

Minthara did stride over, frowning at the sound laughter and merriment. “Well, it is curious to see such mirth in the warriors of Lady Corvus,” she hissed. “I’m surprised, given the tales of your deeds, your bloodshed.” Her thin lips quirked. “Have the decades of seclusion softened you? Does the Absolute know of your…”

Her breath left her body. The quick work of Cordehlia’s dagger shoved between her ribs. “The Absolute can rot, and so can these brainworms,” she hissed into Minthara’s dark, pointed ear.

Cordehlia’s eyes looked into the Drow’s, watching the light fade from them, a dark smile on her lips. Then, those silver eyes flashed at the rest of her party. “Get them,” she ordered, a nod of her head at the rest of the Goblin hoard.

Gale and Karlach snuck off, the wizard’s hands glowing already, the Tiefling’s ax ringing in her hand as she swung if off her back. But it was Astarion who lingered and grinned at her, watching as she dropped the body of their enemy at her feet. “With pleasure,” he purred, snatching her bloodied dagger in his hand. The Drow’s blood dripping down the bright blade, the etching of the Raven near the hilt darkened red.

He licked her blade clean, his eyes locked into hers, watching her chest heaving, her eyes hazy as she watched every little flick his pink tongue made along her weapon before he handed it back.

[barblaz-arts]

OMG ITS SO COOL THAT ONE OF PUGSLEY’S KIDS IS A MANANANGGAL !! and a boy ??? mananaggal ?? (unless im completely misunderstanding that)

anyways as a filipino its just so cool to see stuff with my culture in it (those posts abt the wenclair fam going to jollibee made me so happy!!!)

btw, what made u decide to create those characters as pugsley’s kids?

Something that I'll give the show props for is subverting what would usually be represented genderwise for monsters. Gorgons are usually women, but they had a boy be one(the only thing I like about him--). And there isn't a lot of female werewolves out there in media. And I'm not talking about stories that are about werewolves. Cuz yknow. Duh of course there'd be female werewolves. But I'm talking about stories about monsters. If you have a show about different monsters or fantasy characters and there's a werewolf, they'd usually give you an angsty and/or wild dude as the main werewolf.

But Wednesday's(the show) main werewolf is a happy girly girl. The only other similar instance I can think of at the top of my head is Ruby from Once Upon A Time. That's probably why the twist in Ruby's episode was so shocking. You expect the dude to be the werewolf. Not the femme girl who dyes the tips of her hair and would probably cry if she ruins her manicure.

Anyways. Monsters that are always majorly represented by one gender is boooorrriiiiiing. Let's mix it up a little.

Sorry that got long.

So! About Pugsley's kids!

I'm not sure about the B&W series, but in the animated movies, Pugsley's a bit of a hopeless romantic. So growing up, I like to think he got around. The problem is he also has terrible luck with women, so none of them lasted, not because he's fickle -- he would fall in love deeply every single time -- but because he just has dog shit luck. He is Fester's nephew after all. So all three kids are Pugsley's from different baby mommas. I'll talk more about em later.

As for what made me choose em

Dante - I've previously mentioned that I headcanon Pugsley as a pyrokinetic because of his love for explosives. I think it'd be neat if he had a girlfriend who came from literal hell and had a baby demon with her

Jasper - some time back when the fandom was still super active, people making their nevermore sona was a trend on twitter. I actually wanted to join and have mine be a manananggal, but I couldn't because I was both busy and was never really a fan of drawing myself(not cuz of like self esteem issues. im pretty darn cute actually! i just prefer to draw other people). but i still wanted to draw a manananggal in Nevermore, and I figured just having it be an OC for Pugsley's child is the perfect opportunity

Briar - those faceless students are sooo damn cool. I love them a lot. I wanted more from them in the show. So I'm just making the content I craved for. Also a faceless little girl whose aunt is Wednesday, pokerface queen, and looks up to her for it? Too funny and cute of a thought to me.

[bluegekk0]

top 5 things about making art

1. Being able to visualize the things that are on my mind 24/7 - I have aphantasia so I struggle with mental images a lot (the concept of mental imagery is a bit confusing to me, but considering I can't relate at all to people with vivid visual imagination, I'm pretty sure I fall somewhere on the other end of the spectrum). Drawing is the primary way for me to actually see the characters I can't stop thinking about, there is honestly no better feeling than looking at the finished drawing and knowing that I have the capability to give life to my imagination and make it look good (most of the time at least). I'd be a lot more miserable if I couldn't experience that in any capacity.

2. Looking at my past work and seeing the improvement - self explanatory. I'm probably a bit annoying in this regard if you ask my friends, but I seriously love comparing my new art to some older pieces to see how much I've improved, and how much my characters changed. It's a nice warm feeling to know that despite being happy with my art, I'm not stuck in one spot and can still expand my horizons.

3. Experimenting with shapes and textures - I'll mention Vyrm here first. Ever since I made him more fat and soft, playing around with the round shapes and the physics of the fat became extremely fun (and it feels good to represent that aspect of myself in him). Similarly, I once disliked drawing fur as it always ended up looking stiff and flat, but as I dedicated the last year to drawing almost exclusively Grimm and Vyrm, I think I improved a lot in this regard, and now I find the process of making the fur look as soft and giving it volume to be super engaging.

4. The process of coloring - it's very fill the piece with colors. In particular, I absolutely love coloring Vyrm, and seeing him come to life as I add the pink hints to his colors that I associate with him. Ever since I started using the color jitter brush, it became a lot more fun to play around with different hues and make the drawings look less flat.

5. Seeing the feedback to my art - putting this one last since it's less to do with the actual process and more related to doing art in general. Receiving nice comments, and especially those unhinged love tags under my art is just such a nice feeling. And in those times where people tell me they find my work inspiring, or that it has affected them in some way, I find comfort in knowing that I'm making positive impact in others' lives. I do struggle sometimes with feeling like that's the only thing I have going for me, but generally it's a positive feeling more often than not, and I'm incredibly thankful to have it.

[sincerely-sofie]

Have you ever wanted to draw something but you fought due to your skill level at the time you decide not to do it

Ohhh man. I’ve got so many projects that I want to make but haven’t because I view my current skill set as lacking— and they’re almost always drawing related, because I’m very insecure about my drawing skills— even moreso than my writing skills. To go on a tangent and paint a picture of how severe this visual art insecurity is, I will list off how many people I have directly permitted to read my major written pieces once I passed my mid-teens:

My older sister, because she was my co-writer for the project and not letting her read my work wasn’t an option

My mother on one occasion

My aunt, who has experience with writing and publishing, and I have only ever sent two pieces to

Look at that number of people. The number of pieces I shared with them, in total, was four out of the hundreds of projects I’ve made over the years. I was so precious about my writing because I’m insecure about it. I’m even more insecure about my art. I couldn’t list off all the drawing projects I hesitate to make because I think it’s impossible with my current skill level, not even in a thousand years, but I’ll give a few examples that are always in the back of my mind lately.

A semi-animated pilot to a fantasy-comedy cartoon parodying The Office, starring a goblin secretary who’s trying to assassinate her employer and take over as the final boss of an RPG-esque dungeon that operates like an office building, while her employer is a lich who misinterprets all her efforts to kill him as her being flirty, leading him to develop a very severe crush on the goblin. The project is titled “Boss Fight”, and I have all the resources I need to make it, but I drag my feet because of my art insecurity… also I would be doing all the voice acting myself, and I don’t find my voice very appealing even when I change it to fit different characters.

A webcomic about a fantasy world populated by bipedal bug people that features a very brief “save the world” plot, then focuses the rest of the storyline on how the characters recover from the events of their backstories and the trauma the experienced while saving the world. It’s titled “The Creeping Chronicles”, and I love the project but am so insecure about being able to do the story justice with my art skills that I’ve tentatively pivoted to making it a book series instead. It’s got 21k+ words across 10-ish chapters because I’m too insecure about my art to draw it fully.

A slice of life comic titled “Welcome to Wayside” that’s basically Gravity Falls meets Stardew Valley where a young girl saves a cryptid’s life and now he’s stuck helping her until he repays the life debt he owes. The story features a vaguely men in black-style evil secret agency called G.L.O.O.M. (Gents for Ludicrous Oddity Organization and Management) who have various ranks are named after facets of fashion (khakis are their grunt labor and pocket squares are researchers) and they use a threat-ranking system based on dress codes (i.e. “WE HAVE A BLACK TIE DOWN ON SOUTH STREET, REPEAT: BLACK TIE DOWN ON SOUTH STREET”), and I adored G.L.O.O.M. along with the cast of characters featured in the story, but I don’t feel confident in my ability to design interesting-looking original cryptids.

I could leave this post at that, but I’ve got an important thing to say on this subject—

If you want to make something but are hesitating to because your skill levels are lackluster, make it anyways.

Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever can. Let yourself make the thing, and let yourself make the thing badly. Love it and how ugly it is. The perspective is all askew in this part, and that character is horribly off model there, and isn’t it all amazing? You made that! You made a thing! And you wouldn’t have this thing that you made if you waited until the conditions were perfect to make it and refused to create the thing before your skills were sufficient.

There’s this terrible thing about creative projects— one that is very noticeable in drawing projects especially, in my experience. As your artistic skills develop, your artistic vision also develops to become more and more detailed and masterful… and it’s always going to be outside of your grasp. If you wait until you’re ready to make the thing, you will never make the thing, because you’ll never feel ready no matter how much you build your skills. But if you make the thing before you feel totally prepared, you’ll learn and grow artistically as well as personally, and will be able to feel more confident in future thing-making efforts.

[aeon-borealis]

Dumb AleHeather Related Rambles

I play with the idea of "Dumbass is jealous of/has a goofy rivalry with their S/O's cat" for Serirei (Serizawa X Reigen), but I just can't do it with AleHeather. It'd be in-character for them. It'd be so petty and fall so perfectly in place with what kind of writing better Total Drama has. Hell, if I got to work on an older TD cast special, I'd sooo want to storyboard whatever Looney Tunes antics someone brewed up for Alejandro and Bruiser.

But I'm not strict canon compliant for AleHeather. I can, will, and have broken what's "in character" to get more sincere, fluffy moments than I'd get otherwise. That includes both Alejandro and Heather being cat persons. And Alejandro loves Bruiser as much as Heather does because that's wholesome as fuck to me.

I've also been sold on Alejandro and Heather both being HUGE fans of puppetry and that being the nerdy interest they both sync on. I want to do more research because if there's a scene with more of Alejandro's room, there's gonna be more than just the Jim Henson poster or references to The Muppets.

I vaguely remember establishing Alejandro as a Star Wars fan in a fan fic too. I'm not 100% sold on that one any more. It's more because I've never been that into it and I'd have trouble selling a character's enthusiasm on it.

I made some fanart with a hypothetical AleHeather fankid back in high school. She never had a concrete design or personality. The only given was that her name was Alejandra Heather Burromuerto.

By this point, I'm not keen on revising this character or doing anything further because it's important to me to have solid, meaningful childfree rep. I'm on the fence myself, but I feel like deliberately childfree characters with rich, interesting lives outside of kids is woefully under-explored in media at large. To me, its very believable that Alejandro and Heather could be childfree by choice as adults. I definitely want to write/draw content for late 20's-early 30's AleHeather. I don't have any solid ideas or directions other than that drabble I posted a couple months ago about depressed Alejandro.

Writing for them at that phase of life hits a bit too close to home. That's why it's so hard for me. By the reboot standards, they're the same age as me! It was one thing to write for them as a teenager. Hell, a few people told me my writing for Alejandro was spot-on ten years ago. By now, though, I don't want just the angst-fest and I don't have patience for the soap opera theatrics with no real payoff. I honestly want to flesh out and do more with them figuring out a healthy, meaningful dynamic. That's more of what I'm aiming for with my in-progress fan comic (once I actually get back to it. Going through some shit right now and its been hard to drum up motivation again).