#sitting here feeling conflicted about. like. if the leads had kissed would they still have worked so hard

[sunny44]

I can’t stay

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Warnings: discussion, casual relationship, ants

Summary: Y/n and Lando confront their feelings for each other as they struggle with the complexities of their casual relationship. Despite their initial agreement, emotions run high, leading to difficult decisions and heartache.

Next Part

As Lando's fingers comb through my hair to rest at the back of my head, he pulls me in and leaves a kiss on my forehead, and in that moment I feel a sense of comfort and happiness.

Until it's all ruined by a single sentence.

"I have to go." he murmurs softly.

I understand the reasons behind his departure, the need to maintain boundaries and keep emotions in check, but it doesn't stop me from feeling disappointed. And I knew I shouldn't feel this way since we agreed it would be something casual since we both ended our relationships at the same time and decided to find comfort in each other.

But over time things changed and I knew I was on a dangerous path of feelings but in the beginning I thought it was just because he helped me get over my ex, but in the end it was just me falling in love with him.

“Why can't you spend the night?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, hoping he'd reconsider and just for one night I could feel like he was really mine.

Lando's expression changes, a mixture of resignation and determination.

“You know why.” he replies, his tone gentle, but firm.

"But what harm would it do?" I pressed, searching his eyes for a hint of hesitation and that he would reconsider staying. “Just tonight.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“It's complicated." Feeling a wave of frustration, I sit up on the couch.

“We've been through bigger complications.” I argue, pleading for him to see things from my point of view.

"It's not the same." Lando insists, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Why not?" you counter, unable to understand his reluctance.

Lando pauses, his gaze searching yours.

“I just... I don't want to complicate things further. I don't want another relationship like the last one I had.”

"But it won't be the same, I'm not like your ex." Lando hesitates, his expression conflicted.

“But I don't want it to end up like her, I care too much about you for us to end up as mere strangers.” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

My heart skips a beat with his confession, emotions swirling inside me.

“And you think pushing me away is the best option?" I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes.

Lando reaches out to wipe away my tears, his touch gentle and comforting.

"I'm sorry.” he murmurs, his eyes filled with regret. "I just... I don't want to hurt you."

“Too late for that don't you think?” I asked ironically and he sighed.

“I'm leaving.” He says standing up.

"I don't want you to leave." I admit, my voice trembling with emotion.

Lando hugs me, holding me close.

“I know.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "But sometimes... it's better this way."

As he reluctantly pulls away, I watch him gather his things, a feeling of sadness washing over him.

“If you walk out that door it's over.” I give him my ultimatum and he was with his hand on the doorknob and he leaned his head on the door.

“Please don't do this.”

“I'm not doing anything, the decision is yours.” I sniffed and wiped the tears from my face. “I can't do this anymore, I can't keep being with you and acting like we're a couple just for you to leave me at the end of the night and show up at my door weeks later to repeat the same thing.”

“Y/n…”

“It's up to you Lando.” He was still with his back to me and I sat on the couch.

And seconds later my heart shattered into thousands of pieces when I heard the sound of the door opening and then closing.

Hey guys, hope you like this chapter.

This will have a part 2 so if you guys want to be on the tag list, leave a comment here so I’ll tag you for the next one

[princessbrunette]

your parents were meant to be returning to the farmhouse tomorrow, and outlaw!johnb would have to go back into hiding. but not without one final hurrah.

the old horseshoe — the name of the best saloon in town according to john b, one he swore by for the best drinks and best atmosphere. you weren’t so sure, you were already nervous about sneaking away from home so close to when your parents were supposed to be returning, it simply didn’t seem like a good idea.

but the outlaw himself had convinced you to live life, and that he’s not sure when the next time the two of you would get to actually spend time time together— so reluctantly you trot out the door with him, hopping onto the horse in your dress and boots and forced yourself not to give the house another glance for the evening.

he’s right about the drinks, wrong about the atmosphere. as the two of you sit in a rickety old leather booth in a dimly lit corner of the saloon, there’s no one occupying the dusty floors but the regulars, sat alone harbouring their drinks and the overworked, tired bartenders cleaning tables. john b sits across from you in the booth, staring at his glass of whiskey.

“yeah uh, it’s usually a little more… lively in here.” the brunette winces before grinning up at you sheepishly. he was so charming without trying, your heart flutters and you find yourself giggling.

“i don’t mind. just wanna spend time with you, anyway.” you shrug shyly, and it’s his turn to preen at the sweetness. he stares at you fondly, that warm smile on his face with a hint of sadness in his eyes at your circumstances — and it’s like you read each others mind. your own smile fades and you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. “i can’t believe we aren’t going to be able to play husband and wife anymore.” you pout, and it’s adorable.

“mhm… well— not for a little while. this situation isn’t permanent okay we just… we need to find a way to get you out of there. you can come live on the road with me… if that’s what you’d want.” he proposes, big brown eyes wide and serious.

“you’d let me?” you tilt your head.

“look i don’t wanna get you in trouble but… i don’t know if i can be without you.” he rasps. you stare, never knowing someone could feel so in love and yet so conflicted on what choice to make. he shakes the moment off, not wanting to dampen the evening with such a proposal and the grin returns to his face. “we can totally talk about it later. for now… why don’t you come round and sit with me? you’re so far away, kinda miss you from over here.” he jokes and you’re hopping up without a thought, scooching round the booth to sit pressed right up next to him where you belonged.

the night goes on, and the saloon doesn’t get any more lively — but you don’t care. the two of you chat, flirt, drink— until you’re feeling warm and hazy, like the night would never end. with this light intoxication comes your need, something you didn’t know the house wine could do.

as he tells an extravagant story from his more reckless days, you shuffle on the warm leather bench, sticky between your thighs and teeth clamping down on your lip. he cuts himself off with a chuckle, leaning in.

“yeah i… can’t focus on the story if you’re looking at me like that, honey.”

“hmm?” you giggle, offguard and he’s already swooping in to kiss you.

one thing leads to another, and he’s got his tongue down your throat. you pull away breathless after a moment, face all hot as you look around for wandering eyes. the two of you really were shoved into a dim corner, and the regulars seemed totally unphased— but still, you weren’t used to being so public. you weren’t even used to being in the public at all.

“johm’bee” you mewl, clutching him all hazy and horny the way he loved. he almost couldn’t believed he’d got you like this in public.

“c’mere, it’s fine.” he hums, easily pulling you to straddle his lap. “no one’s watching. you’re safe with me.” he groans against your mouth as guides you back for more.

as if you can’t help yourself, your hips start to roll on his lap — the coarse, starchy denim of his jeans rubbing right up against your clit through your thin panties beneath your skirt. you glide easily, back and forth — the copious lubrication of your arousal making it easy to do so. he chuckles quietly against you, he should have known you’d be quick to start humping him like a sweet little puppy.

“definitely gonna miss this.” he comments through shared breath as he guides your movements by the ass. he brings you up higher, and your clit catches on his big heavy cowboy belt making you whine loudly.

the outlaw pulls you back gently with a hand softly grasping the back of your neck. the other hand raises to press a finger to your lips, shushing you with wide sympathetic eyes.

“shh shh shh, hey — listen sweetheart.” he cooes and you lock in, eyes teary and doe like as you nod, still humping away on his hard, concealed erection. “you can cum right here, that’s no problem — as long as you know that after this we are going straight back to the house so i can fuck you properly. okay?” he gently squeezes the back of your neck, prompting an answer. your dress was all hiked up, and you were pretty sure that anyone who glances in your direction would see exactly what was going on — but you didn’t care.

“m’hm—okay—yes please!” you pant, forcing your voice into a high pitched whisper.

“alright. atta girl. make a pretty mess for me, honey, i’m here.” he croons, returning his hands to your hips to rocket you straight into a public orgasm.

[theaveragepsychoticbitch]

My bestfriend asked for t4t with bottom Gyomei. And I only live to please her.

AMAB!Reader x AFAB!Gyomei || NSFW || Frotting, awkward first times, kinda crackish lol, and blowjobs(receiving)

The man before you, despite being large as an ox, was as skittish as a rabbit at the moment.

This was by far the most holy foreplay you've ever done. Sitting on your knees, facing each other, with enough room for someone holy in the middle despite your nakedness.

You'd been trying to court this man for weeks, but now that you're here, you aren't quite sure where to take this. He was, in many ways, far different than anyone you've ever been with. He was unusually quiet, and his teary, sightless stare was starting to unnerve you. His hands remained clasped as though in prayer, which made you feel a bit awkward. And not to mention the fact he had several feet on you height wise.

Just as the silence started to make you rethink your decisions, he speaks up.

"I must confess something, [Name]."

You turn your head to meet his gaze, the sudden suspense making your heart rate spike.

"I am... conflicted. Without doubt, I desire you. I wish to bring you pleasure, tonight. But..."

But? You haven't known Gyomei long, but from what you've seen he isn't the type to hesitate long or often. You sit up a little straighter, almost leaning forward in anticipation as the silence drags out.

"...I am inexperienced, in the art of intimacy."

You blink, all your anxiety gone in a poof. All this build up to tell you he's a virgin?

"Oh. Is that all?" You cringe as you say it. That was a bit insensitive.

However, your easy acceptance seems to soothe him some. "Yes. I do hope that won't be a problem for you."

"Not at all. Would it help if I took the lead?"

His smile is warm and sweet, almost out of place for the situation. You can't help but mirror it as he says, "Yes."

He removes his beads from his hands, setting then gently to the side. His hands lie flat on his thighs, and you watch as he takes a deep breath in.... and slowly lets it out.

"I'm ready whenever you are, [Name]."

You huff amusedly at his wording. He said it as though you were about to spar, rather than fuck.

Your hands are small compared to every part of him. There's so much to see and feel, and as you slowly drag your hands up his thighs and across his torso, you try to both see and feel everything. He sucks in a breath when you brush his nipple. You note that, excited to come back to it later.

For now though, you roam. You can feel him relax as he gets used to your touch. You begin to add kisses into the mix– across his chest, his shoulders, up his neck. You anchor yourself to the back of his neck and sit in his lap, laying kiss after soft kiss upon his face.

He's blushing, bright enough that you can see it clearly even in the darkness. It's likely due to the borderline romantic kisses you were giving him. Or maybe he could feel your cock hardening against his stomach with every little content sigh you drew from him.

You can feel him shifting, and soon two large hands have captured your waist in a gentle hold. Theres a shyness to his touch, one you can feel melt slowly into confidence when you kiss his ears, biting the tip teasingly and licking the shell.

"[Name]..."

"Yes?" You're sucking hickies into his neck now. He twitches hard in what you figure is surprise after the first, then tilts his head to further expose his neck to you. "Will you kiss me on my lips?"

You smile into his skin. What a polite request.

"As much as you want me to." One hand slides down his chest and you struggle to not snicker; his heart is beating so fast you could probably hear it if you were quiet enough. What an unexpected cutie pie.

Gyomei's lips meet yours in the middle. They're big like the rest of him, and plush as pillows. They meld to yours perfectly, and are quick to part when you prod them with your tongue. Remnants of dinner can still be tasted on his tongue, along with something deeper, more unique to him. You can't quite describe what it's like, but it makes you feel like you could sit and kiss this man forever.

After not long enough has passed, you force yourself to come up for air. His grip on you tightens immediately and you feel yourself twitch, both of your stomachs now sticky with pre.

He tries to follow you as you pull back. His crying seems to have intensified, the tears now flowing steadily down his cheeks and dripping into your lap.

A crybaby... A man of his status, with his life experience, crying because you stopped kissing him... If he's this dramatic now, his cries later...

A shiver runs up your back at the thought.

"Lay down."

Quick to obey, too. Gods, his expression was so sweet, so open and ready for anything you say.

Laying like this, a sliver of starlight cast his face in a pale glow. The red of his cheeks, the wetness on his lips that were still slightly parted as he panted, even his tears, that now flowed in several directions down his face.

Now, you sit between his legs. They're monstrous, of course. Thick and muscled and sure to crush you if he's one to leg-lock, but you came into this willing to risk that. Before you, his cunt oozes arousal at a steady pace. His clit is visibly throbbing, protruding from beneath its hood almost eagerly.

You weren't by any means small, now. But you had to wonder if the size difference would affect your performance. Would you be able to fold him? Flipping was definitely out of the question. Hell, would you even be able to fuck him as deep as you promised all those days ago?

A change in the air makes you realize you'd been silent for a while now. Gyomei's moved to lean on his forearms, a questioning expression on his face.

"Is everything... to your liking?"

Shitttttt.

It hits you now that he's been blind since birth. He's never even seen himself, and is relying on your judgement. He's trusting you deeply right now, and you're fucking it up.

"Yes, of course, I was just thinking." Well, no shit Sherlock.

He's silent at that. How did you manage to make things worse? There's no salvaging this, you should just go home now-

"Will you describe it to me?"

And just like that, you're snatched from the pits of self pity and placed directly under the metaphorical light of what must be God.

His deep voice was barely a whisper, but his words reverberate across your skin, and echo in your soul. You can fix this. And it wouldn't even be hard, because Gyomei is-

"Beautiful."

Even his breathing quiets when you start to speak.

"Your skin is soft and tan, and your scars are like artwork on the perfect canvas." You lean over him, dragging your hands across his body, stopping only one to finally, blessedly, grope at his tit.

"Despite the hardships that gave you them, they're soft beneath my lips." You kiss him. And then you kiss his scars, every single one in sight.

"You're quite muscular, though I'm sure I don't have to tell you that." You chuckle, but his expression doesn't so much as falter. He's hooked on your every word.

You squeeze his pec, and he inhales sharply. You pinch his nipple, and it knocks all the air from his chest.

"Your chest is soft, almost like a woman's. Your nipples are pink and round, and even long before this, I was enticed by them." Now, you use both hands on him. You twirl his peaks in little circles almost absentmindedly. You pinch one, testing the waters, and are met with his first true moan of the night.

His body jerks a little bit at the pleasure. His head is thrown back, and he sinks till he's fully back on the futon. For a fleeting moment, you're squeezed tight between his thighs, but you wouldn't want to leave if you could. You're rougher with him from then on, and for a while, you just enjoy the pretty sounds he makes as you abuse his chest.

"Does that feel good, Gyomei?" You almost don't recognize your own voice. It's low and sultry, your tone so obviously knowing it'd be offensive in any other situation.

"Yes." His words are accompanied by a whimper as you lick his nipple, applying only teasing amounts of pressure.

"How good does it feel, baby?"

You take it fully into your mouth this time, sucking and biting and making him cry.

You didn't even realize you'd begun to grind against him. He'd pulled his legs back of his own accord, and now his fat pussy lips hugged your cock perfectly, soaking you so thoroughly in his arousal you slid easily against him.

You knew for sure you'd bumped his clit when he yelped, back arching as one hand left his leg to tear at the covers.

You need to tell him. Tell him how sexy he looks like this. How slotting against him was numbing your brain, how the only thing you could hear were his melodic moans. Could he feel your cock twitch when he arched into you just now? What about how hard you were staring at him, at all of him? From the enchanting way pleasure painted itself across his features to the way his hole clenched and leaked everytime you called him beautiful.

You did tell him, all of this and more. Whispered directly into his ear between feverish kisses, not stopping even when they became to much for him to bare all at once. He feels so good in your hands. You tell him that, too.

It ends up being too much for him. He trembles, mouth open wide in a silent scream as he cums on your cock, wetting you, himself, and the sheets. A few minutes pass, and he collapses in your arms.

Loud, heavy breathing is all you hear from him as you caress his skin. You're gentle on the sensitive areas for now. But you can't deny the mischievous joy you get from watching such a stoic man whine every time you flick his clit.

"You looked beautiful just now too." You smirk, laying your head on his chest.

"Please..." He sounds like he meant to come off as exasperated, but was too far gone to do so.

"I can let up on the poetry, but only if you stop looking like it." You wink, and you're pretty sure that if he was anyone else, you would've gotten kicked out.

He sighs instead, and you laugh. Then, his hand clasps your face as though you were someone dear, and you're pulled upwards into a kiss.

Then he flips you, to your surprise. Ever the gentle giant, the seconds you're in the air feel like floating, and you couldn't have landed softer if you'd been in control yourself.

He slides down your body, mimicking you as he drags his own hands down it much the way you did him.

However, he keeps going down, and as you catch the increasingly determined look on his face you realize what he plans to do.

"All my knowledge of this act comes from Tengen and his overly explicit stories... But I wish to please you in turn. I ask you guide me in this too."

You nod, too shocked to speak, then come to your senses and sputter out an "of course!"

You can feel your heart thundering in your chest as his lips press against the underside of your tip. He's got one hand on your thigh, and one on your waist. Thick fingers massage your skin as he kisses down your length, and you don't hesitate to moan loud in encouragement. It feels good, and when his tongue reaches your balls and licks a stripe all the way back up, you make a mental note to kiss Tengen on the lips when you see him. Him and his wives.

His tongue is large and it engulfs your cock like nothing. But he's surprisingly skillful at using it, applying pressure in spots that make your legs jerk and licking ever so lightly in places that have you seeing white.

This, combined with the frotting from earlier, you soon find yourself struggling to not fuck up and into his mouth. He can feel your hips, though. The battle to control yourself is waged right under his fingers, and he's nothing if not a peacekeeper.

His lips leave you with a pop! and you've never been so upset at gaining the ability to breath back.

"You can move, if you'd like. I can take it." He takes your hands in his, moving them to his hair. "I hear that it's enjoyable like this. Please, use me as you desire most."

The last sentence is spoken over your cock like a blessing. You think you're going to marry this man. You might have to, after hearing that.

You lace both hands through his short hair, giving an experimental tug and loving the grunt it pulls from him. You drop one hand to your cock, holding it steady as you slide smoothly past his lips. Once positioned, you plant one foot firm on the ground, lifting your hips slowly at first, and dropping them just as slow.

You set a pace, savoring the sounds his mouth makes as you fuck it, too far gone to be embarrassed by the ones you make. He's taking you so well that you can't help yourself anymore; you thrust deeper. And deeper, and deeper, faster and faster until you're fucking his throat in true. You can feel the muscles of his throat spasming around your cock, gripping you as though trying to keep you there. His tongue was at work too. He struggled to keep up, but his attempts to keep it pressed flat to the underside of your dick had your head spinning.

"Gyomei, hell, in-" You gasp as he groans, the vibrations testing your limits,"-or out? Quickly!"

He makes his decision by opening his mouth impossibly wider and taking you to the base. Lodged deep in his throat, you've no choice but to cum in it, and bless if it wasn't the most mind blowing orgasm you've had in years.

You see white, the world fading to nothing around you as you tremble, his hold the only thing keeping your hips in the air.

Now, it's your turn to suffer as he slowly pulls off of you. Maybe teasing him after wasn't the best thing to teach him on the first day. If you knew you'd be left like this earlier, you would have tread far more carefully.

You can barely find the strength to move, but you've got to see this. It takes all your effort, but it's worth it to watch as he thumbs away a portion of the saliva and precum that dripped down his chin. Despite his sightlessness, he stares at his now sticky thumb with what was no doubt surprise at his own actions.

He soon rises so that his head is under your chin, but you pull him in for a quick kiss, reminiscent of the one he gave you earlier.

When you pull away, more breathless than before, his blush is that of roses at the peak of spring.

"I can go longer, if you wish."

Yeah, you knew he could. You also knew you couldn't. You're half convinced he took your dick with him, and not even seeing it in its rightful place will fully convince you otherwise.

"I think... we'll continue this session...another night."

He smiles, then somehow manages to find another way to shock you tonight.

"It felt amazing.... your mouth on my chest, and everything after."

You blink. There's no way he's answering your love-drunk question from earlier, right?

But he is, and he's dead serious about it too. Beautiful, funny... marriage material if you've ever seen it.

"I'm glad. You did amazing too, Gyomei." He seems a bit lost for words at first, but a small smile graces his lips. You kiss him, taking away the need for anymore talking.

"Do you truly mean it? That you wish to do this again?"

You might die if he gets anymore adorable. But you're quick to respond, because you weren't blessed with hashira stamina, and sleep has been calling your name rather insistently for a minute now.

"Of course. As long as you wish to as well."

You're gone long before he gets the chance to speak back. And when you wake up, he's fast asleep too, still sticky, still naked, and still smiling.

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A/N: if this is ooc no it's not I'm literally Koyoharu Gotouge. Now enjoy. And everybody say thanks to bestie for finally getting me to post!!!

[colormepurplex2]

On Wings of Mist & Memories | Burnished Heart

↳  DragonRider!Jungkook x FieldScribe!f.Reader ⤜ Enemies to Lovers, Exiled Royalty, High Fantasy ⤜ Rating: MA | angst, smut, fluff ⤜ WC: 20,184 ⚠️ Crass language, talk of war/death, descriptions of blood, lots of sexual tension, crude banter, fingering, kissing, dirty talk, teasing, shadow penetration/sex (it's exactly what you're probably thinking it is: fun af), lots of praise, sexual pleading/begging, endearingly awkward sexual tension, shameless flirting, oral m. receiving, shadow clit play, nipple pinching/teasing, v. sex, mild cum play & eating, multiple orgasms, sad feelings/thoughts of the future, fighting, mild violence, implied minor character death, minor character terminal sickness that leads to off-page death, talk of forced bonds, heartache, pregnancy, off-page childbirth ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

Glossary Mave - dragon rider who can wield magic, tethered to the soul of their dragon when they bond (death for both if one dies) Psion - infinite memory/recall Reaver - a dragon that can wield magic, tethered to the soul of the rider they bond (death for both if one dies) Noks - infantry soldiers, humanoids who can enter berserk/rage mode Rider - regular dragon rider, no magic, uses bows or scouts Brute - riderless dragon, usually wild and very dangerous Wielder - magic user, no dragon needed Signis - the designated/specific type of power someone wields Helnite - metal ore that can cut off magic from its user Golden Blight - incurable blood disease

Days go by in a blur of late-night war meetings and moments of early-morning self-reflection. It’s easier to cast off your old oaths and loyalties than you thought it’d be. Sure, you have plenty of fuel and reason to, but it’s still surprising—and maybe a little disappointing—that you are not struggling with it. You were prepared to face daily internal conflict. Instead, you’re more upset over the fact you’re not upset.

“Can I talk to Goris today?” you ask from the comfort of your bedroll, just as you have every afternoon since agreeing to help Jungkook.

And just like all those days, he responds the same. “Not yet. He’s not ready to hear it.”

“When will he be ready? What are you waiting for?”

His eyes are intense as they bore into the side of your face from where he’s sitting at the large table where you both take your meals. You ignore the urge to look at him, keeping your eyes locked on where you’re idly sliding the tip of the dagger that you stole from him under your fingernails. They’re not particularly dirty, but focusing here is better than getting lost in his gaze.

“Soon, maybe. He’s being well taken care of if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You sigh, slipping the blade back into the top of your boot, and lounge back on your elbows. “I know you’ve been accommodating to him, but I think he’s ready. I think he’d have been ready the first day. You might know Goris from ten years ago, but I know him now. He’d listen to me if only because of the care he had for Marvick.”

The tent feels smaller now that you’re taking up a portion of it with your bedroll. Jungkook refused to give you your own tent. He’s growing to trust you but still wants you to be where he can keep an eye on you. For now, the far corner of his tent is as far as he’ll allow.

“If I let you talk to him, what will you say?”

You sit up on your pallet, hope straightening your spine. “I’d start with the truth, of course. He can take it. He’ll listen to me. Aren’t you the one who said people would believe me because of my ability to discern fact from falsity? Let’s test that, starting with Goris.”

Jungkook sighs, shoving the bench away from the table and standing. “If this pushes me five steps back, I will bend you over my knee and make you regret insisting.”

He’s out of the tent before you can form a coherent reply. The words were said casually, with no bite or menace, just a statement of fact, and yet, heat curls in your chest, blooming up your neck and across your cheeks. The image of you bent over Jungkook’s knee with his firm hand—you shake your head, dispelling it before the sordid fantasy can fully form.

Ever since you agreed to help him, Jungkook has been continuously toeing the line between being a shameless flirt, snarking barely veiled threats that make your stomach flutter and your heart patter a little harder, and a cold enforcer, reminding you so much of the arctic chill of the Gilded Ranges. It’s giving you whiplash and has completely crumbled your plans of using your feminine wiles to gain the upper hand. Despite him no longer being your technical enemy, he’s still done enough damage in the past to warrant caution. Or so you think—thought, at least. It’s hard to be sure anymore.

He has a charismatic allure that is disarming but also has your hackles rising. It leaves you with little room to think of anything other than digging deeper, latching your claws into him, and figuring out what makes him tick. Somehow, you’re starting to believe that Shadowsword—the rebellious, power-hungry monster of stories—is a complex guy with qualities you can’t quite grasp. Is it really that simple?

You scramble out of the tent, catching a flash of black as Jungkook disappears into the tent Goris is being held in, just down the thoroughfare in the main camp. As you slip into the afternoon sun, a crowd barrels past you. Their raucous laughter and jovial back slaps make your lips twitch as you fight off a smile. Jungkook’s six friends have become a constant over the last several days, attending all the meetings where you spilled as much information as possible.

One of the figures on the end, shorter and less animated than the others, throws a look over his shoulder at you. For a brief moment, his dark eyes flash with mischief, and you feel a trickle of air slide right down your spine, the faintest scent of cedar filling your nose. They’ve all been testing you, some more than others. You stiffen as the knot of air twists and puffs out of the front of your shirt, hitting you in the face. Yoongi, in particular, seems to think you’re far more trouble than you’re worth.

Ignoring the group, you skirt around them and head for the tent Jungkook disappeared into. It’s not the same tent you were held in at first, Jungkook keeping his word about moving Goris somewhere closer to Ripley. The backside of the tent is open, giving a good view of the giant green dragon a hundred yards away, corralled in a makeshift wooden structure.

Her emerald wings are resting along her spine, and her sizeable mossy snout is resting on her forepaws, orange eyes trained on the tent you’re in—more specifically, the man dressed in all black with his arms crossed over his chest standing off to the side. Her eyes flick to you momentarily.

A cloud of dust kicks up as she snorts, her focus sliding away from you dismissively back to Jungkook. The collar around her neck glints wickedly in the late afternoon light. You never got to ride her like you did Lowren, but you spent enough time around her to be familiar—she knows you pose no threat, unlike Jungkook.

Goris looks good, considering. He’s sitting on a narrow camp cot, elbows on his thighs and chin perched on his folded hands. His amber eyes are dull, face slightly more gaunt than you’re used to, and his braid is unkept, hairs sticking out wildly. You realize he looks like a husk of the vibrant, if brooding, man you’re used to.

“Colonel Goris,” you say in greeting, but his eyes don’t shift from their lock on Jungkook.

“Not much of a Colonel from where I’m sitting, girl. Best you just call me Rit.”

Your nose wrinkles. The interior of the tent is clean, but the air stinks of defeat. “Even behind enemy lines, you still deserve the honor and respect of your title,” you state. Your words finally win you his attention, but the look in his eyes as they meet yours makes your stomach drop. “You have to remove the Helnite,” you implore Jungkook. “Please!”

A harsh chuckle sounds from Goris. “Like he’d listen to you. Nice try, sweetheart, but he’s already made up his mind for me.”

“You’d be surprised, Rit,” Jungkook murmurs. His eyes catch yours momentarily, and he nods toward the haggard man sitting on the cot. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Colonel Goris,” the title earns you a soft scoff. “Rit,” you say in a placating manner, holding back the smile when he looks at you again. “There’s so much you need to hear, so much I must tell you.”

“Can’t say I much feel like listening. As I see it, you’re walking around free as a songbird. Which means you’re now on his side and are now my enemy. As much as I like you and have enjoyed your company over the years, I won’t listen to an oath breaker.”

His words hold no bite, but they sting nonetheless. You swallow thickly, letting your pride slide down your throat with the bile threatening to come up with the reminder of your broken oaths. Nothing will ever be able to repair the betrayal staining your heart, but what you forsake your vows for makes it easier. You hope the same goes for Goris when you’re done.

“You’re right. I am an oath breaker. But, Gor—Rit, I’ll talk, and whether or not you listen is your prerogative, I guess. Just…if you ever cared for Poli the way I think you did, hear me out.”

Goris grunts, swinging his gaze out the back of the tent to where Ripley now has her eyes closed. Her chest rises and falls slowly, deeply, and evenly, though you doubt she’s truly asleep. “Go on then,” he sighs. “Let’s hear it.”

“What do you know about the new bonding that King Jeon discovered?” you ask, hoping to use his own knowledge to set the stage.

He shrugs his shoulders, dropping his hands to dangle between his knees. “Instead of a blood exchange for the bond, it’s now an enchantment. The spell binds the Mave and the Reaver together so they can still share magic, but it doesn’t require the soul tether like before.”

“Right, an enchantment that is supposedly bonding a Mave to a Reaver, allowing them both to access their Signis’ powers,” you repeat, just to confirm. “What if that enchantment isn’t as harmless as it was made out to be?”

Goris’ brow pinches, lips rolling between his teeth. “I’ve seen it first hand, and it seems as harmless as it’s said to be. I know plenty of Mave’s that have done the enchanted bond, and nothing has been amiss. What are you getting at?”

You reach into the small pocket sewn into your dark blue cotton trousers. The pin feels cold in your fingers, far colder than a chunk of gold should. “Does this look familiar?” you ask, holding up the dragon and crown emblem.

Recognition flares in Goris’ eyes, bringing some life back to them. “Of course it does. Why do you have it?” That recognition quickly melts into suspicion.

Glancing at Jungkook, you wet your lips, hesitating. He gives you a barely perceptible nod, so you explain, “The King was wearing it the day that Jungkook discovered the truth about the bond. During their struggle,” the words flow easily as the images bloom in your mind, still crisp and clear as the first time you saw them, “a piece of King Jeon’s robes got caught on Jungkook’s dagger, the pin was attached to it. He let me view it…use my ability on it.”

“I remember that day,” Goris mutters. He studies the pin still clutched in your fingers as if it can give him answers quicker than you are.

You swallow hard, the cold seeping in as you recall what else happened that day. “There had been a recent increase in dragon deaths. Specifically, Reavers bonded with Maves using the enchantment. Six in one week, more before that.” The gold is swallowed in your fist as you grip it tightly, anger shaking your shoulders. “You’ve seen the reports, Rit. You know just as well as I do that the Reavers bonded using the enchantment over the last two decades have seemingly always encountered some sort of tragic demise. Always written off as an accident, a training mishap, a run-in with the enemy, and any other bullshit excuse…while the Mave bonded with them walks away to just bond another Reaver a week later!” There is a flicker of uncertainty on Goris’ face. One more push… “I saw it with my own eyes, Rit.” You hold up the pin, tossing it at him. He snatches it out of the air and glares down at it. You know he can see the dried blood on it and smell that slightly hot metal scent of dragon’s blood.

“Dried dragon’s blood on a bit of gold means nothing,” Goris whispers, but there is no conviction in it.

“It’s the truth. I know it’s hard to swallow, but you know it’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you…not about something like that.” You watch as warring emotions cloud Goris’ face—a brief moment of defiance, uncertainty, pain, sorrow…acceptance.

Liquid amber eyes meet yours before they slide toward the open end of the tent. Ripley’s eyes are open, rounded, and brimming with unshed emotion. Despite the Helnite cutting them off from each other, the soul-bond still remains and is so deep, that they mirror each other even if they can’t feel it. She gives a mournful whiny, raising her head to look southward—toward the capital.

You spoke loudly and clearly, knowing Ripley could hear you from this distance. You hoped she would listen to the truth in your words and help you convince Goris. Reavers—dragons, deserve respect and care, not to be so carelessly used for their power by malicious humans.

“What can I do to help?” he finally asks, and it’s like the interior of the tent lets out a breath of relief. Jungkook’s stance sags a little, his shoulders relaxing as he drops his hands by his sides. You can’t hold back a soft, sad smile.

You leave Goris and Jungkook to talk, excusing yourself for some fresh air after that heavy exchange. It feels like a victory, which gives you hope for how things are going to go moving forward. If someone had told you a few months ago that you’d find yourself deep in the heart of the enemy camp with a smile on your face and a pep in your step, you’d have laughed right in their face.

Things are still so new for you here. Even though Jungkook has given you a lot of freedom, it’s rare when you truly get some time to yourself. Thinking to take advantage of that, you glance back over your shoulder and pause to listen. You can hear Goris and Jungkook still locked in conversation. Smoothing your hands absently over your thighs, you tuck your lips between your teeth to squash your smile—no need to draw additional attention by smiling like a kid with their hand in the sugar jar.

You’ve studied maps of the terrain in the Andos Forest extensively. You’re intimately familiar with the layout of the land, and you know the encampment is strategically settled close to the lake that’s connected to the inlet to the ocean. The season is just on the cusp of changing here in the lowlands. Perhaps only a few weeks remain of amicable weather. Perfect for getting in one last swim before the water becomes too cold.

The walk through the forest is quick, the underbrush cleared in a distinct and well-worn path. A large clearing dotted with oversized boulders is beside the lake, the sandy shore extending farther than you can see in either direction. The water is like a sheet of glistening sapphire, deep blue with green undertones obscuring its unknown depths.

You hesitate at the edge of the water, suddenly feeling a wash of guilt, having left without telling Jungkook. It’s bizarre to realize that you might care what he thinks of you and feel bad for potentially making him worry. But, deep down, you know the last thing you want to do is give him a reason not to trust you.

Pivoting on your heel, you fully intend to trek back to camp and let him know when you hear a loud crack echo from the treeline. Panic thunders through your chest, causing you to act without much thought, throwing yourself toward the closest boulder dotting the shore and crouching behind it.

Jungkook warned you that there are wild animals in these woods but also bands of mercenaries that come here for trade from Norkham, who won’t think twice about taking advantage of a lonely woman—even if she has magic. Your pulse thuds loudly in your ears as you peer around the side of the boulder. A shadowy figure appears a moment later, and you’re about to bolt into the woods and take your chances when you sag back in relief when Jungkook spills from the darkness between two trees.

You brace yourself on the boulder, intending to use it as leverage to help yourself stand when you pause, mouth going dry as you watch Jungkook rip his fighting leather top over his head. Your knees go weak, and your ass pops back down to rest on your heels. You know you should look away, that it’s inappropriate to be ogling him without his knowledge, but you can’t bring yourself to look away.

He is the epitome of power. The tattoo on his pec stands out in stark relief against his golden skin, the dragon standing like it’s ready to pounce right off his chest. Its long, sinuous tail wraps around his bicep, blending with the other intricate designs etched into his skin. It’s not just power that he exudes; it’s intrigue. Everything about him makes you want to get closer, crawl into his mind, and dig around.

Reading a person is forbidden, taboo…but Jungkook makes you want to break the rules. You watch as he unsheaths his long sword, the silvery blade catching the evening light and reflecting it across the water in front of him. His muscles flex and bunch as he fluidly moves from one stance to another, the blade whirring through the air with practiced movements.

You’re not sure how long you watch him, but by the time he shoves the blade back into its scabbard, he’s covered in sweat, and your legs ache from being in this crouched position.

“You can come out now,” Jungkook calls as he retrieves his top from the ground.

A confusing beat passes. You search the treeline, trying to see who he’s talking to. The hairs on the nape of your neck prickle, and a chill works its way down your spine. You can’t help but feel like you’re being watched like there’s a large presence behind you that you hadn’t noticed before.

Before you can think better of it, you slowly turn your head to glance over your shoulder.

“Fucking hells!” you scream, tumbling forward on your hands and knees and trying to scrabble away from the giant, black dragon that somehow snuck up behind you without you realizing it.

“Calm down, he won’t eat you,” Jungkook says, his tone teasing and light. You push up from the ground, uncaring of the sand clinging to your body and skirt around the still shirtless man, putting him between you and his dragon.

“He scared me.” You wring your hands together. “He snuck up on me.”

A thick, dark eyebrow arches. “Maybe he thought you were trying to sneak up on me.”

You should be embarrassed; you have every right to feel the flush of heat across your chest and cheeks, but it doesn’t come. No, instead, there is a heat of a different flavor. A bold and reckless flavor that you come to realize you like the taste of.

Jungkook makes you feel alive in ways you never have before. It’s surprising and catches you off guard, but it’s freeing in a sense, casting off your inhibitions in such a fashion.

“I wasn’t sneaking.” It’s not a lie, not really.

“Just watching, right?” Mirth colors his words and twinkles in his eyes; you’d almost think he was flirting with you. “Come, let me introduce you.”

The change in subject has you opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water. “What’s his name?” you ask, warily eyeing the formidable scaly dragon waiting a few feet away. You heard him say it in the flashback you got from the golden pin, but for some reason, the juvenile dragon from the viewing is hard to picture being the same one as what stands before you.

“Onyx,” Jungkook says, giving the dragon an affectionate pat on its large snout. There is a moment where you’re pinned by his golden-eyed stare as he assesses you. You’ve heard dragons have an impeccable judgment of character, being able to sniff out a rotten egg with little effort. Only a genuinely deserving person is offered the soul-bond to a dragon.

Onyx gives a soft snort, the warm air smelling faintly of cloves catches in your hair and tickles along the tops of your cheeks. You have to clench the muscles in your legs to keep from jerking back a step as Onyx steps forward, his head looming in your direction. He taps the center of your chest with his snout—acceptance. A giddy feeling blossoms in your chest, made even more apparent when Jungkook steps around to stand beside you. His close proximity reminds your body of what it felt just moments ago crouched behind the boulder. He may no longer be your enemy, but he’s unknowingly started a war with your self-control.

🖤🖤🖤

Jungkook

It’s been almost four months now since Jungkook had Jimin remove the Helnite from Ripley’s and Goris’ necks. It’s still hard to believe that you were able to convince Rit so easily. If Jungkook knew that’s all it would have taken to sway some of his father’s most loyal commanders, he would have sought out a Psion much sooner. Though, he’s well aware of how much respect Rit has for you because of who you were to Poli. He sighs, fisting a handful of his hair and tugging at it, willing those thoughts away. That ache may never go away, which comes up whenever he thinks of General Marvick.

“You okay?” Namjoon asks from his seat on the bench beside him.

It’s late, far too late to be having another meeting, but Taehyung returned from a scouting trip around the Western Garrison and has urgent news to share.

“Fine,” Jungkook dismisses, straightening in his seat and dropping his hands into his lap. “Continue.” He gestures to Taehyung, who stopped his report for Namjoon’s question.

Jungkook can feel your eyes on him from the corner of the tent. He hates that he’s keeping you from going back to sleep, having woken you up with blaring mage lights when his six closest advisors crowded in. It’s a few hours past midnight, he’s pretty sure.

He forces himself not to look your way, not sure he could stop himself from kicking everyone else out if he allows himself to see the sleepy softness of your face. It isn’t helped by the fact that you’ve grown bold lately with lingering looks and touches. Jungkook is relatively sure you’ve been intentionally trying to catch him with his proverbial pants around his ankles.

It’s slowly becoming a problem, having you sleep in his tent. The tent might be larger than most, but it’s painfully intimate when you share it with someone else…someone who is as alluring and mysterious as you are. Jungkook fiddles with the front tails of his shirt. He didn’t bother lacing it up or doing more than swinging it over his shoulders and shoving his arms through. His leather breeches sit low on his waist, another slight oversight when he dragged them on under his blanket when he was alerted to Taehyung’s arrival.

The first few nights after you joined his cause, he went to bed in full gear. It was with a mix of caution but also out of mild discomfort. He’s never shared more than a fleeting few hours with a woman and never overnight. Your feminine presence put him on edge, but he also wasn’t fool enough to think you might not take the opportunity to stick a blade into his belly. Once he was sure he was safe, at least from the blade, he began to get undressed under his blankets, suppressing the blissful sighs when he could once again sleep comfortably.

He’s made it a point to wake up before you every morning so he could be dressed before you and avoid the awkwardness. But tonight is something that couldn’t be helped. It’s like thinking of it has his eyes sliding your way unbidden. He catches the briefest glimpse of you before jerking his attention back to Taehyung, but it’s enough. There is no way to know for sure, with your blanket tucked up under your chin, but he could almost swear you are naked under there. The thought has the hairs on the back of his neck prickling.

“I can lead this if you need me to,” Namjoon leans in and murmurs into Jungkook’s ear, ripping him from his thoughts once again.

Jungkook’s neck warms along with the tips of his ears. “It’s fine,” he retorts, clearing his throat before focusing intently on the man animatedly speaking. He can’t help but think of his last conversation with Namjoon; he was just as distracted then. Namjoon’s convinced you’ll find yourself in Jungkook’s bed before it’s all over. Jungkook vehemently disagreed—at least, on the outside.

“It looks like Jeon is pulling out some of the forward wings and sending them to assist at Fort Supret.” Taehyung drags his finger from the top of the map to the center. “Niharmer has been given the station of General, though I hear many aren’t happy about that, including Niharmer himself. Powers are shifting. Ta is now Colonel, and Lee has been promoted to Major. A new guy is taking over for Ta, but I’ve only heard whispers, nothing concrete. The golden machine churns on, even after taking such a big loss,” he grumbles that last bit, throwing an apologetic look in your direction. All of his friends are aware of what you lost that day, what Poli represented in your life.

“It might be the perfect time to strike, get on the inside,” Yoongi muses. He reaches out and taps a finger on the map spread out on the table, indicating the cluster of islands at the top. “With the Western Garrison being short a few wings and the chaos of troop movement, we could maybe slip a few far-flight scout wings around The Steppes and move in from the north.”

“You’d be better served to come in from the west,” you say, drawing all their gazes to you. Jungkook masks his surprise at seeing you standing, pulling your blanket tight around you. Your shoulders are bare, leading him to believe he was right in his assumption that you’re naked. The only thing separating his hungry gaze from your delectable body is a thin sheet of linen.

The curves of your body are not well disguised by the fabric. If anything, it hugs and pulls in a way that makes his teeth grind together. Saliva pools under his tongue when he sees your pebbled nipples stand out against the grey-colored linen. Thankfully, you drape an arm over your chest to help keep the blanket in place as you approach the table.

“The north is the easiest way into the compound,” Yoongi states, his eyes flashing silver as they narrow at the map. A sharp, warm puff of air slides the carved golden dragon figurine from its place by the Western Garrison toward the middle of the mountain range where Fort Supret is located. “They’re vulnerable along the north if they’re moving the bulk of their troops south.”

You lean over the table, giving Jungkook a tantalizing view of your cleavage above the makeshift blanket wrap. You have no qualms with your body, much to his personal detriment. He gets up early to get dressed first but also to avoid being in the tent when you crawl out of bed…completely nude. The first time it happened, he stormed out of the tent and spent half the day running Onyx through training drills so that he didn’t tackle you to the ground and become the monster you once thought of him as.

“The north will be vulnerable, yes, but I would guarantee that’s exactly what the King would think as well. He’ll send reinforcements from The Shield and The Serpent to cover the north, anticipating a likely attack with the shift. He’s likely baiting the attack. And it’ll leave his west flank even more vulnerable. It’s the same tactic he always uses. That’s the thing about King Jeon. He’s predictable.”

Jungkook sits back in his chair, allowing himself a moment to appreciate you—because of your well-honed military mindset, of course, and nothing else. “She’s right, Yoongi. We can monitor the movement of the north just in case, but the west will likely be the softest front. It’s what he did at Norkham and what he did when taking The Steppes, to begin with. It’s what he’s sure to do now.”

“Hoseok, Namjoon, Taehyung, I want you three to go. Hoseok and Taehyung, you’re on the west. Namjoon, stay to the north. Be sure to take some curlers with you and keep in touch. Take as many bodies as you need, but move swiftly. Go now, be there before the sun rises, use the dawn as cover for your approach. If we can take out the guards and infiltrate their breeding camp, we can cut them off at the knees. Jimin, Seokjin, you know what to do. Yoongi, we’ll move forward with our plans by the end of the week. It’s time, my friends. It’s finally time.”

This moment has been a long time coming. It was what pushed Jungkook to attack when he did, why he was targeting General Marvick, to begin with. He knew if he took out the central command, his father would have no choice but to shift things around, and in the chaos that followed, it would be the best time to strike.

“On it,” Hoseok nods to the other three. “I want to be in the air within thirty, two squads each. Pick wisely.”

Everyone files out of the tent, Jimin and Seokjin, with the intention of distributing the latest cache of weapons Jimin finished and the rations Seokjin just got done preserving for a mission such as this. Their heads are together, chattering away about the best way to spread that amount of resources in such a short amount of time, as they exit. Yoongi claps Jungkook on the shoulder before leaving, muttering something too low for you to hear.

“Are we really executing the plan in just a week?” Your sleepy voice sucks him in, drawing his attention to you. You adjust the blanket, tucking it tighter under your arms.

He nods, cutting his eyes away from you. “Get some more sleep. We’ll begin preparations first thing in the morning.” Jungkook stands from the table, moving over to his discarded coat. Winter has fully set in. The camp hearth crackling in the center of the tent keeps the interior warm enough, but outside, there is a bitter bite to the air.

“What about you? You haven’t slept a wink.”

That furrows his brow. How do you know he hasn’t slept? For all you should be aware, he was in his bed before Taehyung came and disturbed him. You couldn’t possibly know he was lying awake in bed…trying so hard not to think about you lying five feet away from him.

Before he can respond, you’re circling around the table and crowding into his space. “What are you doing?” he says, voice low and hoarse as you reach up and twirl the drawstring on his shirt around your finger. His stomach muscles flex as you trace the open line of his shirt, your nail dragging lightly along his exposed skin.

“I see the way you look at me,” you say. A slight smirk curls your lips as you look up at him through your lashes. “I know you toss and turn, trying to push away thoughts of inviting me into your bed.”

“Psions aren’t mind readers,” he states firmly. Though there is a slight hitch in his breath, that confirms your words regardless, when your finger glides back up to press against the black dragon head resting at the center of his chest. Jungkook barely breathes as you push up onto your toes and brush your lips against his cheek in a soft kiss.

“I don’t mind you having those thoughts,” you admit, dropping back onto your heels. “But, I do mind you losing sleep over them. So, next time you find yourself unable to sleep…well, all you have to do is ask.” And with that, you drop your hand and turn your back to him. He’s almost sure you exaggerate the sway of your hips as you pad across the ground back to your sleeping pallet. “A distracted commander makes mistakes. I’d hate for that to happen.” Your words drift to him on a whisper, blending with the soft sound of brushing fabric as you settle down and adjust your blanket around you.

Your eyes are closed, and Jungkook watches as your chest rises and falls with even breaths. He knows you probably didn’t fall asleep that quickly, but you’re obviously done with the conversation, and he’s not even sure what he could say to you at this point that wouldn’t be “get in my bed so I can fuck you back to sleep”. Biting his tongue until it aches, he snags his coat, throws it around his shoulders, and disappears through the tent flap, willing the cold to leech away his sordid thoughts.

🖤🖤🖤

“Again!” Goris growls, hefting his sword up, ready to deflect your next blow. You lunge, bringing the long sword down with both hands. He quickly smacks it to the side. “You’re too slow. Again!”

“You’re fucking…crazy…if you think…I can do this again,” you gasp between breaths. “We’ve been at this all day. I’m just getting slower each time. I need to rest for a bit…or forever.”

Goris swings his sword, catching you across the back of your knees with the flat of it, making you hit the dirt with a pained yelp. The sword in your hands goes flying, clattering noisily a few feet away. “You’d be dead if I were the enemy,” he grouses. “Go get cleaned up. We’ll resume this first thing in the morning.”

Once Goris was accepted into the fold of the rebel camp, he quickly took up a place as your personal trainer. You’re getting good, very good, according to Jungkook, who watches your training sessions on occasion. But, according to Goris, you’re as skilled as a newborn babe. Jungkook says it’s just how Goris is, a hardass through and through who will push you even when you’re successful. You appreciate it, even if your body detests the multitude of bruises and aches that are accumulating.

It’s only been a few days since Taehyung returned from the scouting mission, and many of the rebel forces moved in to take over The Stepping Isles. From what Jungkook has told you, they were successful, and you were right about the western flank being the most vulnerable. Even Yoongi murmured his appreciation to you for that insight once it was revealed.

Currently, The Steppes are controlled by Jungkook’s force, and the Crown is unhappy about it. When Dragonkind first left Lork, it’s said that The Stepping Isles were their preferred place of rest. It’s where all dragons reside before being bonded or employed into service. Before King Jeon took over and established his breeding farm, the dragons were always free to roam wherever they pleased as any other beings are. Most people assume they were still free and have always been, but it’s only because it’s so rare to see a Brute in the wild that no one is the wiser.

Cutting his father off at the source is nearly as big of a move as when Jungkook took down General Marvick. Though, the victory at The Steppes is far more palatable than the other. Without more dragons, the Brutes forced into bonds that die due to the enchantment can’t be replaced. The last roster you laid your eyes on quoted there being fifty-four Brutes with Wielders as their riders and nine Reavers with Maves. Six now, if you take away Goris, Krut, and Marvick.

The sun has barely passed its zenith, the weak light breaking through the surrounding trees. Even though there is a light dusting of snow on the ground, you’re sweating from the exertion of training. It won’t last long, you know. The steam rising from your body as you trudge through camp is already dwindling. If you don’t get out of the cold and rid your body of the moisture coating it, you could find yourself with a chill.

These daily training sessions have added to your arsenal of skills. When pointing out that you may not be proficient with a sword, but you had other talents, Goris never thought he might get the chance to remedy that. Once he’s done with you each day, he moves on to working with any of the soldiers and Noks who are willing to learn.

On more than one occasion, you’ve caught Jungkook with a fervent, proud look in his eyes as he watches his own childhood blade master teaching his friends and comrades of war. That’s something you’ve come to appreciate about him. Jungkook doesn’t consider his rebel army to be his lessers or his followers, people to control and throw against the grind wheel, but people who share a common goal and are his equal in worth. It’s highly contrasting to what you’re used to from leaders.

Pushing through the flap, you shudder as the heat of the interior of the tent hits you. It’s so warm against your chilled skin that goosebumps sheet across your skin with a light ache. You snag the ties holding your leather fighting top closed, and sigh softly as you shuck the sweat-drenched fabric. Jungkook is meeting with Yoongi right now, so you should have some time to wash before he comes in.

You can’t help the smile on your face as you peel off your breeches and toss them aside with your top, luxuriating in the instant comfort. The stretch of fabric you use to bind your breasts during training comes off, and you groan at the feeling of being able to take a full, unencumbered breath. The fighting garb you were given was made for a woman with a smaller chest than you, making the binding necessary to avoid pinching and chaffing. It’s a necessary evil if you expect to go to the capital with Jungkook, Yoongi, and Goris—which you do.

A pitcher of clean water is waiting behind the changing screen, just as always. But, considering you have some time, you grab it, bring it out, and set it on the table. The iron brazier in the middle of the tent is popping and crackling with heat, the enchanted stones crowding the bowl emit a bright lavender light and the perfect amount of warmth. It’s been months since you were able to bathe beside a camp hearth like this, and now’s the ideal opportunity to revisit that luxury.

Pulling your small bar of herbal soap and a clean cloth from your stash of things beside your bedroll, you move as close to the crackling rocks as you dare. You soak the fabric in the water, then ring it out over your chest. The water is tepid at best from sitting in the warm tent, but it feels warmer due to the proximity of the brazier. It feels heavenly, rewetting the cloth and repeating the process until your body is dripping. The ground below you dries just as quickly as water can soak into it, another advantage of the enchanted iron hearth.

As you work it into a lather on the cloth, the soap smells of fragrant jasmine and rosemary. You’re lost in the smooth glide of the soapy cloth along your legs when you hear the swish of the tent flap.

“I’m starv—“, the words cut off, strangled around a gasp.

You straighten from where you were bent over washing and glance over your shoulder. Your back is to the tent entrance, a deliberate placement just on the off chance of something like this happening. Turning so you’re facing Jungkook head-on, you reach beside you, dip the cloth in the water again, and hold it out toward him. “Just in time to help me with my back.”

Jungkook’s eyes are large, rounded, and constantly flicking over your body until they finally land on your hand holding the cloth. His lips twitch, and you’re confident he’s about to launch back through the tent flap, but mild surprise rises in your chest when he abruptly steps toward you and snatches the cloth from your fingers. This is a dangerous game, a line being crossed that neither of you can uncross…but if you’re honest with yourself, you can’t find it in you to care.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a siren sent to infiltrate my camp and suck me beneath your spell,” he grits the words out between clenched teeth. “A demon temptress come to steal my damned soul.”

A stilted gasp erupts from you as his chest presses tightly against yours. The rough weave of his shirt rubs against your breasts, eliciting prickles of sharp, pleasured-pain. His eyes look like endless black pools thanks to the violet light filling the tent from the stones in the brazier. They narrow down at you, one corner of his mouth curling up to expose his teeth in a goading sneer.

“You’re the one that stole me, remember?” you whisper. He’s so close you can see the tiny beauty mark under his bottom lip and the intricate closing mechanism of his ringed jewelry in his lip.

The washcloth pressing into the middle of your spine has you arching forward, your chest pressing more firmly against his. Wetness spreads along the front of his cream-colored shirt with water and soap leaching from your body to his. He slides the cloth along your upper back and shoulders in long, sweeping movements.

A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest. Your hands automatically come up and grip his sides, fingers fisting into the loose fabric that hides away his perfectly tapered waist. It’s that whiplash again. He was cold and indifferent this morning, grumbling to himself over breakfast before leaving without saying a word. Now, he’s hot enough to make the brazier feel chilled, devouring your sanity like a starving man.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks.

The ghost of his breath tickles across your lips. It wouldn’t take much effort to…your lips press against his in a brief yet searing kiss. “The same as you do to me, I’d wager.”

Jungkook groans, eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck,” he curses. The wet cloth plops to the ground. His large hands grip fistfuls of your ass and haul you up, lips hungrily seeking yours. Your legs automatically wind around his waist, resting over his hips, ankles crossed in the small of his back. He fits perfectly between your thighs, and you’re intimately aware of the throbbing presence now pressed firmly against you.

The heady scent of clove fills your nose with your next inhale as Jungkook’s tongue seeks entry into your mouth. You open for him, welcoming the slick pressure of his tongue against yours. He tastes like sweet, toasted spices, a flavor you could get lost in.

A familiar darkness swirls around you, caressing along your hips, back, and ass to replace the grip of his hands. Bands of shadows wind around your thighs and hug the curves of your waist to cup the undersides of your breasts. You’re surrounded by shadows—by him. He invades your senses, drawing them all into one flagrant point.

You shudder under the shadows, realizing they’re holding your weight as his hands slip from your body. His lips remain plucking and strumming against yours, but the solid press of his hips against yours retreats. Your ankles fall off each other, and your legs spread further around his hips until they’re dangling in the air, suspended now by the support of his winding shadows.

He pulls away, lips finally breaking from yours. You can feel the lingering tingle with every thump of your heartbeat. “Jungkook,” you whisper his name like a prayer, an earnest plea for redemption.

“Look at you.” He angles his head down, eyes intently gazing at where you’re being held open by his shadows, wholly exposed to him. “What a mess, so dirty,” he chuckles, flicking a thick digit between your lower lips, then holds it up to shine in the soft, lilac glow from the brazier. His eyes meet yours as he presses his finger against the flat of his tongue before his lips close around it and he sucks. “Baths are supposed to make you clean.”

“I think I prefer being dirty. I was wondering how long it would take for you to break,” you taunt.

Delight sparks in his eyes, raising his brows as he licks his lips. “I should leave you like this as punishment for tempting me so much.” His finger swipes over you again, eliciting a bedraggled moan from you. “It’s been so fucking hard,” he emphasizes the word, drawing it out as he slowly slides his finger into your throbbing center, “trying to resist this bewitching pussy.”

Your lips part, another moan echoing through the tent as he drags his finger back out just to push it back in. “F-fuck me,” you mewl, not caring how wanton and needy you sound.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asks, fitting in a second finger alongside the first. “To have me stretching out your sweet pussy and filling you with my darkness?” All you can do is nod. “I don’t know if you’re ready for that. But there is something,” his words hitch with a smirk as his fingers withdraw, only to be replaced by something lighter and more spectral in feel. Something you’re familiar with, just not probing lightly in such an intimate place. “A small taste of my darkness,” he whispers, canting his hips forward in a mockery of fucking, as a thick tendril of shadow fills you the way you wish his cock would.

“Oh, fuck—Jungkook!” you cry out, arching between the shadows holding your body in the air before him. Your chin drops to your chest, giving you a clear view of the thick, dark inkiness that’s sliding in and out of your cunt, dripping with your arousal. His lips capture yours again, tongue exploring and emploring you to make sweet sounds for him. One of his hands fists into your hair, angling your head to deepen the kiss further. The other lands in your lower belly, thumb pressed to your clit to rub teasing circles.

The sounds reverberating around the tent are obscene. You’re both moaning and breathing hard, the perversion punctuated by the slick sounds of the shadow filling you over and over and Jungkook’s thumb working over your arousal-covered clit. “Cum for me,” he pants, breaking from the kiss to trail his lips along your jaw and down your neck. “Take my darkness in like a good girl.” His teeth graze one of your nipples before gently clapping down.

It’s like a punch to your pleasure senses. Everything sparks and fires, creating a conflagration of all-consuming euphoria. Your body clamps down hard around the shadow, making Jungkook groan as if it’s directly linked to his own body. He shudders against you, slumping forward until his chest is pressed to yours again and his lips seal over yours.

As quickly as the shadows wrapped around your body, they disappear, leaving you feeling bereft of their wispy touch. Jungkook keeps you from hitting the ground, his hands catching you under your arms until you’re steady on your feet. “Thank you,” you say, unsure if you mean for catching you or giving you the best orgasm you’ve ever experienced. You’re just about to ask if he would like for you to return the favor when he jerks away from you and adjusts the front of his trousers.

He works his jaw, the muscles flexing as he clenches his teeth. “I—uh, I need to go,” he mutters. “Seokjin has invited us to have dinner with him.” You watch as the blatant lust on his face ices over and turns into an unreadable mask. “Oh, and next time, bathe behind the screen, or I’ll make sure the whole camp can hear how well you’ll be taking my cock.” The words are soft but forced out between taut lips before he turns on his heel and all but runs from the tent.

🖤🖤🖤

Jungkook

It’s clear you’re going to be the death of him. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have fucked you with his shadows. Because now he’ll be able to think of little else. The fact his shadows are a direct extension of himself means he can feel the warm clutch of your pussy throbbing around his cock even though he didn’t even take it out. It jerks painfully behind the ties of his breeches, but he pointedly ignores it, hoping the erection will go away before he makes it to Seokjin’s tent.

Jungkook told you Seokjin had extended a dinner invitation. Though, he’s not sure if you’ll even show up, considering what he just did to you. There is a sweet, twisted satisfaction in thinking you might be too blissed out to join.

Don’t let it go to your head.

Oh, fuck off, Onyx. You’ve been silent for months, and this is all it took to get you to talk again? Jungkook scoffs, blowing out a breath that mists in the air.

I was busy mourning a lost friend, much as you have. Onyx’s deep timbre vibrates through Jungkook. It’s full of barely veiled emotion. Lowren and Onyx were hatch mates, practically brothers, until they separated to accept their individual bonds. You should have mated with the Psion.

What the hell? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. The last thing I need to do is make it weird.

What’s weird about mating? I know how she makes you feel. The happiness is unmistakable. Onyx huffs, the sound like dry leaves crinkling between Jungkook’s ears. I’ll never understand you humans.

It’s not that easy. I don’t even know if she likes me like that. That isn’t entirely true, at least based on how you react to him and how you constantly infiltrate his mind and break down his defenses. In fact, you admitted nearly as much just a few minutes ago, right before he filled your dripping cunt with his shadow. Jungkook clears his throat. It’s complicated.

The only thing he gets in reply from Onyx is an indignant snort, the sound rattling around in his head as he approaches Seokjin’s tent.

“Wait up!” He hears your breathy request from a few feet behind him. Jungkook glances back just as you close the distance. You’re securing the belt of your thick wool coat around your waist, a bright smile on your face.  Your lips are still puffy, swollen from his kiss. The tremble in your hands might be from the cold, but Jungkook would rather see it as residual effects of what he did to you.

The inside of Seokjin’s tent is cozy and warm thanks to the smaller space and the bright yellow brazier erected in one corner. There’s just enough room for a small camp table and four chairs in the open area between the bedroll and trunk. The tangy scent of spices permeates the air, a promise of delicious food.

“Finally! I was worried you wouldn’t show. Hells know you took long enough, what kept you?” Seokjin asks, fiddling with a steaming pot on the table.

“Umm, well, uh…I, er, we—“

“I’m sorry, Seokjin, it’s my fault. I took too long getting ready once Jungkook told me of your invitation to dinner. I had a hard training session with Rit earlier and was feeling a bit sluggish after.” You move into the space, giving Jungkook a brief, private smile as you save him from having to lie to his friend…or tell the truth and thicken the air with embarrassment.

Seokjin gives you an appraising look. “Is that right? Well, no harm done. Please, have a seat, let’s eat.”

🖤🖤🖤

The steaming pot on the table is filled with a luscious stew with braised meat and chopped vegetables. Crusty bread sits on a plate with various cheeses and fruits, and Seokjin pours three healthy glasses of plum-spiced wine.

“This smells divine,” you say, inhaling the fragrant stew as Seokjin ladles it into the bowl before you.

Seokjin simpers under your praise. “Thank you.”

Jungkook sits across the table from you, forcing Seokjin into one of the chairs between the two of you. The fourth chair sits empty, but not for long. Jimin bustles into the tent a few moments later, grumbling about the cold. “Your asshole of a dragon was being difficult, Jungkook. He wouldn’t sit still while I outfitted the new saddle. It took twice as long as it should have. My fingers are ice!”

Seokjin swiftly fills a fourth bowl and sets it in front of the empty chair. “Well, stop your bellyaching and warm up with some stew. Here’s that chili sauce you like so much that’ll have you thawed and sweating in no time,” he titters, pushing a small glass jar of red liquid toward Jimin.

Conversation drifts through the tent easily. You’d almost think you’d been friends with these men for far longer than a handful of months with how comfortable you feel around them. Seokjin and Jimin have taken you into their graces, doting on you like a sister. Neither of them so much as give you the stink eye for having once been their enemy. When you had asked them about it, they both agreed that it’s not your fault the King is corrupt—you were just doing your job, much the way they were doing theirs when you considered them your enemy.

They’re both Wielders, magic users that don’t require a dragon for their Signis to manifest. Seokjin has an affinity for healing, and Jimin can melt any metal with his bare hands nearly as well as a dragon’s flame can. You’ve heard Jungkook refer to them as the backbone of the camp more than once. He views all of his friends that way, for that matter. The six of them are the brothers he never got to have since his older brother was lost to an illness before Jungkook could grow old enough to know him. At least, that’s what the stories say, and you’ve not had the heart to ask him about it.

“Onyx got a new saddle?” you ask curiously.

Jimin’s eyes widen a fraction, his cheeks coloring as he throws a furtive glance at Jungkook. “He, um, he did. The old one’s chest strap was a bit worn. We try to cycle the saddles every year or so to maintain integrity. The last thing you want is a saddle strap to snap mid-flight.”

“It’s okay, Jimin. We don’t have to keep it a secret any longer.” Jungkook gives his friend an affectionate pat on the shoulder before turning to you. “The new staddle is a dual seater, similar in build to the one Poli used for you. That way, you can ride comfortably on Onyx when we fly to the capital. I was going to keep it as a surprise, but…” he trails off, shrugging.

“Oh.” In all the planning and preparation work, you hadn’t even considered how you’d be traveling to the capital. Flying with Jungkook makes the most sense, considering it’s only two days by dragon and nearly two weeks up to two months by land since you’d have to either skirt around the Gilded Ranges or traverse them. The hold on The Steppes is secure but cannot be held indefinitely. The sooner you execute the plan at the capital, the better for everyone; time is a precious commodity that you have little of. “Well, thank you.”

Jungkook gives you a warm smile that contrasts so wildly with the hungry, salacious man who ravaged you in his tent not too long ago. You can still feel the phantom ache of his shadow between your thighs, the memory making you squeeze your thighs together under the table.

“Dinner was delicious, Seokjin, thank you,” Jungkook says once everyone has had their fill of the hearty spread. “Going to bed with a full belly will do us all some good. We leave as soon as the sun rises in less than two day’s time. Best we all get some sleep now so we can have a full day of preparation tomorrow.”

Jimin settles in for a cup of tea, deciding to have a chat with Seokjin about tomorrow’s work before turning in. You and Jungkook leave Seokjin’s tent with smiles on your faces.

“That was lovely,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself against the chill. There is a soft flurry of snowflakes lazily drifting from the sky.

You walk in companionable silence for a while, the low drone of the camp settling in for the night, filtering through the hush of the night. It’s eerily beautiful, with the moon full and bright in the sky, bleeding silvery moonlight through the barren tree branches overhead.

“I’m sorry if earlier was too much. I’m not sure what came over me,” Jungkook breaks the silence with quiet words. “But, I can’t say I regret it.”

“I would have said no if I didn’t want it. I have no regrets either,” you reply in kind. A fluttery feeling settles in your belly, and your heartbeat picks up a fraction when Jungkook slides his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in against his side. He’s warm, a welcomed comfort from the cold.

Never in all your years would you have imagined you’d be where you are right now. But as Jungkook leads you into his tent and pats the blankets of his bed in invitation, you know without a doubt that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. You both undress in silence, quickly doffing your clothes in heaps on the ground. His bed is warm, heated by the enchanted brazier.

A whole foot of space remains between your bodies, but even with all that room, there is no awkwardness. You lay on your side, facing him. His arm extends above his head, elbow bent, and his other lay atop the blankets. You can see the black dragon tattooed on his skin with perfect clarity now. It stands out so starkly against his creamy skin.

“I’m not sure what will happen,” he whispers into the quiet of the tent. “Even if everything goes according to plan and we are able to put a stop to my father’s misdeeds and expose the truth…I’ve worked constantly for the last ten years towards this one goal, and now that it’s within my grasp, I don’t know what there is for me after that.” He rolls onto his side, dark eyes finding yours in the low light. “But, whatever comes after, know that you’ll have a place by my side if you want it.” You go to open your mouth, intent on telling him your thoughts concerning that offer, but he reaches out and presses a finger to your lips, halting your words. “You don’t have to give me an answer now. Just think about it, okay?”

You nod, his finger falling from your lips. His hand searches under the blankets until it finds one of yours. His fingers lace with yours, and he lets out a slow, easy breath and closes his eyes. A few minutes later, his breathing is deep and even with sleep. You let yourself indulge for a moment, taking in every facet and detail of his serene face, filling it all away into your infinite space. You never want to forget him—no matter what comes after.

🖤🖤🖤

Jungkook

Jungkook is sure he could have laid in bed and stared at you all day. But duty calls, and as long as he plays his cards right in just a few day’s time, maybe he can spend an entire day laying in bed staring at you. Right now, though, he needs to focus on something other than your supple body stretched out on his bed.

Tugging on his discarded clothing and jacket, he snags an apple from the bowl on the table and slips out of the tent into the early pre-dawn light. The camp is just starting to wake up; fires crackling from hearths fill the air with fragrant breakfast smells. Someone is already stoking the forge fires in the smith’s work tent, Jimin most likely getting ahead on the day’s chores.

Yoongi is waiting for him at the far end of the encampment, near where there is a clearing for the dragons to take flight. Onyx and Yoongi’s green dragon, Holgrin, patiently wait a few feet from Yoongi.

You mated the Psion. It’s such a matter-of-fact statement that it catches Jungkook off guard.

He throws a glare in Onyx’s direction before turning to Yoongi. “Ready?”

“I’ve been the one waiting on you,” Yoongi drawls, giving Jungkook a knowing look. “Get caught up with the big brain?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call her that, and if you have to know, no, I wasn’t caught up with anything. I’m here at exactly the time we agreed on. You’re just early…as always.”

“How else would you explain a Psion other than a big brain? I’m just calling it as I see it. It’s a compliment.”

“We both know that’s not how you mean it.”

Your silence, along with the way her smell lingers on your body, is all the confirmation I need. Onyx sounds amused. Jungkook is sure if he looked at the dragon, there’d be a macabre smile on his snout—not that Onyx is inherently disturbing, but that’s really the only way one can describe a dragon’s smile…it’s the teeth, definitely the teeth.

I’m silent because you’re being too much right now. I didn’t mate with her, you nosy beast.

Jungkook jerks back when Onyx suddenly snakes forward and presses his snout firmly against his chest. He gives a large sniff that tugs at Jungkook’s clothes. No. He sniffs again. Perhaps not this time, just the tender half-coupling of last night…but you will. She will be a good mate for you. Tender, sweet-smelling, sturdy–

Quit playing around, and let’s go. Jungkook pushes at Onyx’s snout, firmly ignoring everything else he said.

“Holgrin says you smell like her. Are you sure you weren’t caught up?” Yoongi muses, his tone light with jest.

Grumbling under his breath, Jungkook vaults up on Onyx’s back and secures himself in the saddle. Once Yoongi is astride Holgrin, Jungkook meets his eyes. “I fucked her with my shadows last night.”

The surprise in Yoongi’s eyes is reward enough for sharing that intimate detail. He’d rather have held on to that secret a bit longer, but the opportunity was too great. He’s also not entirely sure how you’d react to knowing he’s let it loose to someone else. He’ll have to come clean once he returns tonight. 

Before Yoongi can come up with a clever quip in response, Jungkook urges Onyx into the air. Holgrin follows a moment later, the heavy beat of his wings carrying him into position at Onyx’s left flank. They climb in altitude until the air is so thin and cold that there is a slight ache with every breath. It’s safest this way. No other dragon rider in their right mind would fly so high. It doesn’t bother the dragons. Jungkook is almost sure they could fly into the farthest reaches of the atmosphere without even flinching.

Are you ready to face your father?

Jungkook thinks about lying, embellishing his feelings with false bravado, but he knows Onyx would be able to tell instantly. I’m not sure. And that’s the truth.

I am unfamiliar with Vikmag as he was long bonded to your father when I was still only a hatchling, but I shall do my best to keep him from interfering.

That thought makes Jungkook feel queasy. He hates the idea of Onyx locked into battle with his father’s Reaver. Vikmag is a nasty dragon, just as vicious as his Mave. Jungkook never thought there would be a dragon in existence that would support his father’s nefarious deeds, but as far as he knows, Vikmag doesn’t care in the slightest.

Holgrin, Onyx, and Ripley will all be waiting to keep Vikmag and any other Reavers that might be left in the capital busy while Jungkook, Yoongi, and you slip inside. It’ll be hard to approach without King Jeon realizing it otherwise. It’s Jungkook’s hope that they can make it inside and to wherever his father is before all hell breaks loose. 

You’ve been a critical piece of the planning when it comes to that. You weren’t wrong when you said the King was predictable. And it’s that predictability that Jungkook is relying on. His father has kept the same routine for years, so they know pretty much exactly where he’ll be and when.

Glancing back at Yoongi, Jungkook sees his mouth moving but can’t hear his words. He pulls his curler, a small enchanted conch-shaped piece of heartwood, from his pocket. It fits snugly into his ear. As soon as it seals into place, he hears the soft hubbub of chatter. Yoongi’s voice rings out louder against all the others as if the volume is turned up, but only for him.

“We’re close to Orit. Do we want to do a sweep just in case as we descend toward Supret?” His voice is crackly but clear enough. Their ability to use the curlers is all thanks to Namjoon. He found the enchantment for them rotting away in some dingy book he found on a raid mission in Ft. Dupre. If it weren’t for the small curved pieces of wood, they’d have no way of communicating over distances or while in flight. It’s how Jungkook has kept in the loop about what’s happening at The Steppes.

Jungkook glances over Onyx’s side, catching small glimpses of the mountain peaks through the grey cloud cover. “Let’s be quick about it. I don’t want to get caught in the storm brewing in these clouds.” Ice glitters on the reigns in his gloved hands, and he can feel the crust of it gathering in his hair. “Once we’re sure of the status at Supret, we need to head northwest to meet with Taehyung.”

At the mention of his name, Taehyung’s baritone filters in, sounding like he’s standing at the other end of a lengthy wind tunnel. “Take your time. It's better to be safe. There’s a rumor that Jeon has ordered a few ballista engines to be constructed at the garrisons. I haven’t spotted one myself, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there.” That knowledge churns sourly in Jungkook’s stomach.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Yoongi says. “We’ll see you shortly.”

Scoping over Orit and Supret takes little time. Jungkook keeps a keen eye out for the wooden scorpions but doesn’t see any. Perhaps it is just a rumor. The making of the large torsion weapons was outlawed after the peace treaty between the three nations of Filasdurn. If his father is making them, it shows just how desperate he is now to risk open war with Lork and Norkham.

The storm offers good coverage as they descend and sweep over the mountains. Onyx and Holgrin, being the dark colors they are, blend in against the harsh steel-colored rock. Only a few Reavers are in sight. Niharmer’s red, Petre, is the only one they recognize.

“I’ve seen all I need,” Jungkook says to Yoongi, pressing his knees against Onyx’s side in silent command. They bank to the right, gaining altitude with every sweep of mighty wings.

Relaxing in the new saddle, Jungkook can’t help but think about what it will feel like with your thighs pressed to the outsides of his hips. The saddle Jimin made has a cushioned back separating the two seats. If it weren’t a safety concern, Jungkook would have insisted there be nothing between his body and yours. But Jimin insisted on the safer aspects, and Jungkook begrudgingly relented.

He hates that he will be gone all day, leaving you alone. One of his favorite pastimes recently has been watching you train with Rit. You're quickly picking up the technique and honing your skills for someone who may have only had sparing weapon training prior. The way your body moves and even the grunts of frustration and exertion you make are things not easily forgotten. You invade his mind and have managed to sink your claws right into his soul—and he finds he likes it, probably more than he should.

Jungkook isn’t sure what to call the thing that’s blossoming between the two of you. It’s an enigma of feelings and actions. Never before has he been so drawn to someone so quickly. He’s also never met another being so capable and quick-witted. You breathe life into him and make him want to reach beyond his own limits. There’s no denying you recognized the hunger in his eyes the moment he first exposed your Psion rune. It was hard to mask his reaction. It was so visceral and sudden. He’s curious how it made you feel to be looked at like that. Did you think you were a morsel about to be devoured or a goddess about to be worshiped? 

The sudden dip of Onyx’s wings pulls Jungkook out of his thoughts. The clouds break around his body until they’re swooping toward a clearing northwest of the Andos Forest. The sun is low in the sky, making it so Jungkook can barely see the pearl and pink coloring of Dallise, Taehyung’s white dragon, standing out against the brown and dark green of the grasslands where she and Taehyung wait.

Waves ripple through the knee-high grass as Onyx and Holgrin come in to land, their wings stretching wide to catch air and slow their momentum. Jungkook thumps to the ground beside Onyx, shaking out his limbs so they don’t stiffen up from being in the saddle all day.

I require food.

“Go for it, take Holgrin and Dallise with you. But steer clear of the mountains. Just because we didn’t see any ballistas at Supret and Orit doesn’t mean there aren’t any at Dupre.” Jungkook pats Onyx on his powerful flank before stepping away so the dragon has room to launch back into the sky. Dallise and Holgrin follow a second behind, the wind from their wings making all three men sway on their feet.

“What news do you have? How are The Steppes?” Yoongi asks, getting to the point.

Taehyung pushes a hand through his unruly brown waves, his hair longer than he usually keeps it, and thoroughly windswept. “The Steppes are fine…for now.” When Jungkook and Yoongi exchange a look, Taehyung continues, “We spotted a dozen fleet ships just south of the Western Garrison the day before yesterday. They’ll be upon the first island within the week.”

“Noks?” Jungkook asks.

“A mix,” Taehyung drops his hand, shrugging. “From what we could see without getting too close, there are Noks on deck but a few Wielders as well. Only one dragon in sight, a brown I didn’t recognize. But, based on the numbers, there are at least twenty squadrons and one wing—practically the entire reserves. I’d bet boots to buttons that only a handful of soldiers remain at The Shield and The Serpent. The capital will be empty, ripe for the plucking. Speaking of plucking, you get the Psion in your b—”

“That’ll be enough.”

Yoongi chuffs. “He’s sensitive about her.”

“I knew it. She’s far too pretty for you to keep in your tent without—“

“Say it, and I’ll punch you.” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at them both. It only lasts a minute before they all break into fits of laughter.

“Seriously, though, she’s nice, and I’m happy for you,” Taehyung says, elbowing Jungkook affectionately in the side. “It’s about time things started looking up for you.”

Not for the first time does Jungkook think about how he’d not come nearly as far as he has without his friends. When he ran away ten years ago, none of them so much as questioned his reasoning or called him insane for what he accused his father of. They simply packed a few scant belongings and helped smuggle him and Onyx out of the city. 

They’ve been there since the beginning, his constant reminder that there’s good in a world of evil hidden under the guise of authority. Because that’s really what it is, why no one else thinks twice about questioning his father—power; they’re blinded by it, and kings can do no wrong in the eyes of people on their knees.

“Thanks,” Jungkook says with an easy smile. “We leave at first light in the morning. You’ll be keeping someone on the curler, right? Just in case.”

Taehyung taps the small wooden curve still nestled in his ear. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” The dragons burst from over the Andos Forest, banking hard before dropping to the ground in a cascade of ground-shaking thumps. “Looks like they’re enjoying full bellies. I should be getting back. Hopefully, there will be more than crumbs left from dinner.” He pats his stomach and waves farewell before clamoring into the saddle on Dallise’s back. “Godspeed, my friends, I’ll see you at the top!”

Yoongi and Jungkook watch as Dallise and Taehyung turn into nothing more than a grey dot on the horizon. The sun is almost entirely down, the sky a deep blue with a blush of purple and orange.

“We best get back. Try to get as much sleep as we can before dawn.”

The ride back is silent except for the sound of the wind whipping by. Even Onyx is surprisingly subdued, considering all his banter earlier. The moon is high in the sky by the time they make it back. Yoongi offers Jungkook a parting squeeze on the shoulder before disappearing into the camp, heading toward his own tent.

🖤🖤🖤

A gentle hand on your arm pulls you from sleep. You blink your bleary eyes until Jungkook comes into focus. He’s kneeling beside your bedroll, his brow creased with a frown.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

The question is confusing, so you answer hesitantly. “Umm, sleeping?”

“Well, yeah,” he puffs out his cheeks, gesturing vaguely at your pallet. “I just thought—never mind, I’m sorry.” You watch as color suffuses his cheeks and the little sliver of his neck that you can see over his flight garb.

“No, what is it?” you press, even more curious now.

Jungkook straightens, shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Jungkook, don’t be afraid to speak your mind with me. Please.”

He raises a hand, rubbing at the back of his neck as he intentionally angles himself away from you. “I just thought—perhaps hoped—that I’d return to find you in my bed.” He swings around and gives you an apologetic look. “But, I realize now that’s awfully presumptuous and really just…I don’t want you to think I expect anything from you that you’re not giving to me willingly, that’s all. I’m sorry for that.”

Tucking the blanket under your arms, you sit up. “I thought about it,” you say, standing and wrapping the blanket further around your body. “But, I wasn’t sure. You left this morning without saying anything, and well…I didn’t want to presume myself.”

“This is my first time doing something like…this,” he gestures between the two of you. “I didn’t mean to leave this morning without saying anything. But, I knew if I let myself linger, I would have just told Yoongi to go by himself.”

“How did the scouting and meeting go? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is okay.” He winces. “Well, mostly. I’ll explain everything, but first, I want to give you something. I stopped by Jimin’s on the way through camp. He promised me he’d have it ready when I returned tonight.”

Jungkook moves over to a wrapped bundle lying on his bed. It’s large, bulky, and oddly shaped. Golden filigree fabric is gathered with a length of red ribbon, holding the bundle closed. He ushers you to sit down on his bed, the package beside you.

The soft, earthy scent of leather blooms in the air as you tug on the ribbon and rumple the golden fabric. Peeling back the folds of the package, you pause, hands lingering in the air over the exposed contents. “Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice laced with awe. “You didn’t.”

But he did. Nestled inside the wrap of the golden fabric are brand-new fighting leathers. The stitching is delicate, and the leather is supple and smooth under your trembling fingers, like soft chestnut-colored cream.  

“It’s adjustable,” he indicates the cross bone lacing along the sides. “And there’s enchanted foam padding along the inside that will mold to your body. I know the tight banding you’ve had to use with the other fighting leather was restricting. I wanted to ensure you were as comfortable as possible going into tomorrow. You’ve been working hard, and you deserve it.”

You’re unsure you’ve ever received such a thoughtful and precious gift. “They’re beautiful,” you murmur, picking up the leather pants that were tucked under the top. It has the same fine stitching; you can tell it’ll form to your body like a second skin but not impede your movements. “Thank you, really and truly, thank you.”

Jungkook cups the side of your face, his palm resting solidly against your jaw. He slowly kneels in front of you, his hip pressing against the side of your thigh. “I may have told Yoongi I fucked you with my shadows last night,” surprise lights in your eyes, so he quickly presses on, “and there’s an entire fleet on their way from the capital to The Steppes. Taehyung thinks they’ll arrive by the end of the week. If we are unsuccessful tomorrow, I’ve arranged for every able-bodied dragon to be granted asylum in Norkham. All other dragons will be protected at all costs by everyone at The Steppes now.” He pauses and swallows, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Even with all that, it was hard for me to concentrate, to think of anything other than you and what comes after.”

“A distracted commander makes mistakes,” you repeat the words you said to him nearly a week ago. “What can I do to help alleviate your wandering mind?” You give him a demure look through your lashes, lips slightly parted as you let the blanket slide free from your body to puddle on the bed.

“Hells,” he curses under his breath. “Maybe if I drink my fill of you, it’ll help with this troublesome thirst.”

His lips find yours, kissing you with every ounce of desire coursing through his body. You can feel it in the way his lips pluck at yours, and his tongue invades your mouth to pull moans from deep in your chest. His flight garb is scratchy against your skin, so you tear at the ties and shove until you feel the warmth of his body instead.

The muscles of his chest and arms flex as he helps you rid him of his top. He stands, breaking the kiss as his hands move with yours to undo the stays on the front of his trousers. You push and tug, just as frantic as he is, until he’s standing before you in all his naked glory.

It’s the first time you’ve had more than a fleeting moment to appreciate his body. He’s lean but fit, broad shoulders complimenting his trim waist and muscled thighs. Your eyes track the smattering of scars covering his body, their puckered pink lines standing out against his golden skin, until you allow yourself to settle on the one thing you’ve tried so hard not to stare at.

The sight of his cock has saliva instantly pooling under your tongue. You instinctively swallow, your lashes fluttering along your cheeks as you take a shallow breath and try to gain control of yourself. A familiar ache blooms between your thighs like your body is keyed to respond to the proximity of his.

A phantom brush against your nipples brings your attention back to him. The heavy scent of cloves hangs in the air as his shadows fill the space around you. You can feel thin tendrils of darkness feathering over your body, caressing over your most intimate places.

“You’re beautiful.” The words slip out without your permission, but you don’t regret it as the praise swells his chest and the hunger in his eyes deepens. His skin feels smooth like velvet under your hands as you trace the lines of his body, mapping out the curves and peaks.

“And you’re going to make me lose my mind if you keep touching me like that,” Jungkook growls, the sound contrasting wildly with the gentle way he pushes you back. He follows you down as you move into the center of the bed. His weight settles over your body, hips fitting perfectly between your thighs.

He shudders against you, cock jerking where it’s pinned between his stomach and yours. Shadows continue to writhe over your body, bringing tiny blips of pleasure to the surface of your skin.

“Let me show you how thankful I am for your gift,” you whisper. He lets you easily push him until he’s on his back beside you. You soak in the sight as you slowly position yourself to kneel between his legs.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. I also don’t want you to think this is transactional or anything like that.”

“How about you just let me suck your cock because I want to, then?” Your teeth press into your bottom lip as you look up at him, trying to tell him with more than just your words how much you want this.

He blows out a shaky breath, chest hollowing. “I can deny you nothing.”

Satisfaction warms your cheeks. You curl your fingers around his bobbing length, angling it up and away from where it rested fat and long on his belly. You’ve never done this with a Mave before, but you’ve heard stories. The first swipe of your tongue over the crown of his cock confirms they’re true; a flavor that’s as sweet as honey with the faintest hint of clove bursts on your tongue. You moan, firmly wrapping your lips around him and sucking, chasing after that candied flavor. It’s pure rapture. 

You jerk, mouth popping wetly off his cock as you let out a surprised, “Oh!” A thick, pulsing presence slides between your slick thighs. Your knees widen, automatically accommodating Jungkook’s shadow. The kiss of it against your clit has you bowing your back, jutting your ass out in supplication. “Fuck. That feels so good,” you babble as it pushes in, just as delicious and filling as you remember.

The sensation spurs renewed vigor into your lips and tongue as you take him in your mouth again. Your throat convulses, squeezing his cock as you take him as far as possible. “Look at you. You’re a goddess, delivering transcendence. Ah,” he groans, hips bucking up to meet each stroke of your mouth.

“I’m going to cum,” you whimper around the head of his cock. It slips from between your lips, smacking messily against his abs. As if on cue, the shadow pumping between your thighs increases its pace, and another thread of darkness snakes off to circle your clit. The orgasm snaps through you, ebbing away clarity and coherency until all you can feel is the intense pleasure contracting low in your belly. 

“It’s no wonder I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Come here.” He beckons you up, guiding you with his hands until you sit astride his hips. It’s hard not to puddle atop him, your limbs feeling loose and gooey in the aftermath. The shadows slip away until it’s just him, your body alight at every point it’s pressed to his. “Allow me,” he whispers, kissing softly against your sweat-slick temple.

Jungkook eases you into changing positions with him. You stare up at him, marveling at how his lithe body moves. The violet brazier burning hotly in the middle of the space casts striking shadows across his features. It’s with certainty that you think you could get lost in this man if you’re not careful. Lost with him and never found again. Though, that doesn’t seem so bad…maybe—maybe in the after.

Something soft moves along your sides, his shadows cradling your body in an embrace of safekeeping. Your sensitive body reacts to him, goosebumps popping up in the wake of his fingers as they skim along your thighs. “I need you,” you voice lightly.

His eyes soften as they take you in, his hands pushing your thighs apart. “And you shall have me—all of me, I’m yours.”

The weight of him on your body is comforting as he lowers until his chest presses against yours. In the flickering light of the brazier, his lips find yours, and he swallows your moan as he notches himself against your pussy and drives his hips forward. The air wooshes from your lungs in a hard exhale. Your body quivers, accepting the entire length of him with ardor. 

Your fingers dig into the muscles of his back as he retreats until only the tip of him remains before he languidly rocks forward again. Jungkook moves like the ocean, his body following the push and pull of the tides, guided by the moon. With each roll of his hips, you feel yourself drawing closer to another hedonistic release.

The indulgent way his lips ply yours, and his tongue fights for dominance, added to the decadent stroke of his cock kissing the perfect spot, has you reaching that peak and barreling right over the other side into oblivion. “Oh, gods, Jungkook! I ca—I’m cumming!” You dive through the waves, hurtle along the shoreline, and get sucked into the raging, swirling riptide that makes up Jeon Jungkook.

Warmth simmers in your chest, and suddenly, you can feel him, see him, breathe him in. Everything that is Jungkook—all the pain, loss, joy, and current toe-curling pleasure—files itself neatly away into your infinite space. His face goes slack, lids dropping low, a moan rumbling from deep in his throat as your power slithers up his spine and invades his mind.

“Fuck!” he pants, burying his face into your neck as his hips jerk and sputter. Heat floods around his cock in intense pulses as he cums. It pours from him in hot jets, filling you to the point it gushes and seeps out, sliding down your ass.

A chill replaces the warmth as you realize what just happened. “J-jungkook, I—I’m sorry, so sorry!” Panic grips you by the throat, stealing your breath. “Please, I didn’t mean to do that.”

One of his hands slides over your mouth, cutting off your next round of pleading. “Shh,” he croons. “It’s okay. I swear it by all the hells. It’s okay. You do not need to fear my retaliation for being what you are. Ever, okay?”

You watch him for a moment, trying to gauge whether or not he’s being truthful. There’s nothing but raw, open honesty in his eyes. You nod the best you can, with him still pressing against your mouth. His lips replace his hand, hushing you further into silence over the matter.

“Thank you,” you whisper when he finally relents. His lips are kiss-swollen and glistening, the sight making you feel a wave of smug satisfaction. Jeon Jungkook, Shadowsword, the exiled evil prince…brought to orgasmic ruin by you.

“Are you thanking me for the two orgasms or for accepting you for who you are?” It seems you’re not the only one feeling a bit of pride.

The words on your tongue become a gasp as Jungkook moves, sliding free from your body with a rush of sticky mess. “Mmm, both,” you answer. It’s silly to feel shy suddenly, but when Jungkook leans back, and his gaze locks onto your cum-filled pussy, you feel the urge to press your knees together.

“Uh uh, don’t you dare,” he chastises coyly. “I want to see what I’ve done to you.” With one hand, he swirls two fingers in the wetness gathered along your asscheeks. He holds it up for you to see, his digits covered in creamy white. One of his fingers goes into his mouth. He hums in satisfaction, then offers you the other.

As soon as his finger hits your tongue, you’re reminded of how delicious he tastes. There’s a subtle mint flavor that mixes perfectly with the clove of him. Jungkook’s other hand cups your pussy, reawakening that hungry ache as he gathers more of his cum and pushes it back inside. 

“Gods,” you whine, arching your back as he begins to move his fingers, thumb stroking over your clit. Tingling pinches play over your nipples, the scent of clove in the air intensifying as his shadows come out to play again, wrapping around your breasts. “You’re going to make me cum again.”

A wicked gleam alights in his eyes as his fingers move faster, drawing your orgasm closer to the surface. “That’s the plan,” he smirks, a single brow raising in challenge.

A moment later, you’re cumming on his fingers, body squeezing and undulating around them. “Jungkook!” you cry his name like a prayer.

“I like it when you say my name like that,” he says between placing soft, nibbling kisses along your jaw.

It’s minutes, or maybe hours later when you’re lying in his arms on the cusp of sleep, entirely and utterly satiated, unsure of how many orgasms he plucked from your body. Dawn isn’t too far off, that much you’re sure of. You will the sun to hold out, wishing for a little bit longer in this hazy, bliss-filled bubble before you face the potential of having it all ripped away. Unknowingly, Jungkook has given you hope. He’s slowly rubbed away at the armor encasing your heart, turning it bright and burnishing, just as golden as he is.

As much as you hoped it wouldn’t, the sun rises, and it’s finally time to seek justice—not just for yourself and all the lies you’ve been fed over the years, but for all others who have been deceived, but most of all…for him.

🖤🖤🖤

Jungkook

The world is cruel. Jungkook is sure he’d give up just about anything if it meant being able to live out his life with you. Well, almost anything. The taut bond-tether to Onyx is a constant reminder that there is something bigger out there than his own personal feelings and desires.

You help him dress, cinching the stays and ties of his armor to keep it snugly in place. The new fighting garb he had Jimin make for you is exquisite quality. The smooth leather molds to your body, accentuating the feminine curves of your hips and breasts. Jungkook wishes he had your ability, if only so he could perfectly encase his vision of you right at this moment. You’re looking at him like he crafted the world and breathed life into your soul.

Last night is something he’s still trying to come to terms with. The moment your power reached out and slid within his psyche, he was a goner. It was the most intense and euphoric experience he’s ever had. He felt connected to you on such a deep, carnal level. It was similar to how it feels with Onyx, a connection that goes beyond the normal plane of existence. The feeling is still there, but more a phantom of what it was. There is no bond in place, not truly, but he can feel you beneath his skin all the same.

The air outside is cold, the sky still a deep, rich navy color. Yoongi and Rit are waiting in the fight field; Holgrin and Ripley are standing near Onyx. Three dragons, three Maves, and one Psion. That’s all there will be to execute this daring plan. Jungkook spent months—years, really—thinking about the best way to infiltrate the palace and confront his father.

It wasn’t until you started to paint the inner picture for him that he was able to decide small and quiet was best. The bulk of his force is far better suited to guarding The Steppes than trying to barrel through the gates of the capital anyway. It would just be messy and end up with more lives lost than necessary.

The citizens and people of The Golden Kingdom of Bolas are loyal to a fault. Though it’s not his father they’re inherently dedicated to, it’s the power he represents. This is where Jungkook is putting his whole trust into the knowledge you’ve gained in your years of service to the Crown. You’re confident that if the power shifts to him, the whole of Bolas will change their loyalties without a fight. It’s not a secret that many loved Jungkook before malicious lies were spread about him supposedly going rogue by his father, and more that defamed his character.

“Ready?” Jungkook asks, nodding at the two men waiting.

Rit flexes his hands, opening and closing his fingers before jerking a thumb toward the dragons. “Full bellies and clear heads. Ready as we’ll ever be.”

“Taehyung reached out a bit ago. The fleet of ships are still steadily drawing closer to The Steppes, but nothing else has changed,” Yoongi informs, stoic and unemotional as ever.

“Great. Let’s go.”

Onyx gives both you and Jungkook an assessing look as you approach him. Mated. As I said you would be. I approve. She is good for you.

Don’t let it go to your head. Jungkook repeats the very words Onyx used a few nights ago. We can talk more about this after—if there even is an after.

There will be. Onyx sounds so sure. Jungkook wishes he had as much confidence. But, truth be told, he’s terrified. All he’s wanted to do the last ten years is confront his father. Now that it’s finally happening, he can’t help the trepidation making his steps sluggish.

Once seated on Onyx, he reaches down and helps you up. Jungkook knows you’ve ridden a dragon before, but just in case…Don’t bank too hard, and try to keep above the clouds so we don’t get caught in any snow flurries.

A golden eye glares back at him as Onyx sways his head to the side. I am no hatchling. You’ll do well to remember that. Besides, I have no desire to make her sick all over my hindquarter.

Jungkook gives the rough scales at the base of Onyx’s neck a hearty pat. I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just full of nerves.

Then let’s be done with it so we can move past this, on to a better tomorrow.

Onyx rockets skyward, launching up with a graceful flap of his wings. Twin swooshes of air echo through the clearing as Ripley and Holgrin launch after him, taking up positions along his backdraft in a flanking formation. It’s been years since Jungkook has flown in such a dynamic. Hopefully, he never will have to again.

The sun begins to crest over the horizon just as they fly over the Gilded Ranges. It’s still quite dark above the clouds, but the blush from the sun slowly begins to filter through. By the time they’re over the mountains and approaching the Golden Wood, the sun is reaching above the clouds and spurring them on from behind.

Even with the bitter cold of the season as well as the high altitude, the sun is a welcomed warmth in addition to the heat of your thighs nestled against his hips. Not that conversation on the back of a dragon is easy, but you’ve been very quiet and withdrawn since getting dressed this morning. It’s been on the tip of Jungkook’s tongue several times to ask you to share your thoughts with him, but it never feels like the right time to do so.

When Jungkook gauges that they’ve passed the Gold Wood, he directs Onyx to begin the first descent, sending them below the cloud cover. The Kingdom stretches out before them, all rolling hills and farms. It doesn’t often snow this far to the west, but the cold leeches the brilliant greens and golds of the spring and summer crops leaving the landscape a drab palette of muted colors.

The last time Jungkook saw the Golden Palace was the day he fled from his parents' bedchamber. It’s odd to think he’s never once in the previous ten years thought to come back and execute any reconnaissance. His friends have always taken on that role, and he’s only realizing now how grateful he is for their vigilance and dedication to him, considering he’s not sure if he would have been able to stop himself from seeking instant gratification and storming the palace all on his own had he laid eyes on it.

It’s eerily quiet, the city walls completely devoid of guards. Jungkook catches a few glimpses of scurrying figures down below between buildings, but none with the notable golden armor. The capital looks meek, like a defenseless animal waiting to be plucked up by a dragon’s maw. It raises Jungkook’s hackles, his unease dripping down the bond to Onyx.

I don’t like it.

Maybe your father has grown desperate, throwing everything at his disposal at The Steppes. Dillase said there were enough Noks aboard those vessels to have withered the primary defenses.

Even if that were the case, he’d never leave the palace unmanned. Not while my mother is there. There’s only one thing my dad loves more than power, and that’s my mother.

Jungkook misses his mother every day. He’s wondered countless times since he left whether she missed him, too. After losing his brother to illness, she became as protective as a mother dragon over him. Yet, he never heard anything from or about her after he escaped. As far as he knows, she’s still willingly by his father’s side. Maybe she believes whatever lie his father spun for her. As soon as Jungkook finishes confronting his father, whatever the outcome of that, his next priority is finding his mother.

The dragon corral is a sobering sight as they land in the training yard. They wait for a moment, expecting a rush of guards to come busting through the postern door leading inside the palace, but after several long minutes of silence, they all share a look before dismounting.

There are no dragons resting in the corral, nor are there any dotting the training ground. The only sign of dragon life is the bloated body of a young yellow dragon lying in the dirt outside the corral doors. It’s a sickening sight, seeing this again, the careless way his father just disregards the dragons he’s forcing to die for him long before their time.

“The dragons will remain here, waiting for any air advancements from The Serpent. If anyone comes up from The Shield, there’s no way they’ll make it here in time to be a difference,” Rit says, pointedly ignoring the sight of the dragon, not out of disrespect but out of sheer will to not be sick. Jungkook can see the green tinge coloring Rit’s face as he surveys the expanse of the lower city and the road leading to The Shield. “I didn’t see any sign of Vikmag, and Ripley says his scent is only faint here like he hasn’t been within the corral for days.”

“Odd,” Yoongi states, narrowing his eyes at the large wooden structure that usually houses dozens of dragons. “Where is everyone? Taehyung said there was only one dragon with the fleet, a brown he didn’t recognize. It doesn’t make sense. We should be swarmed in gold and scales by now.”

Jungkook helps you down off of Onyx’s back when he deems they won’t be ambushed. “Are you okay?” he asks under his breath. He cups your face, eyes feasting on yours.

Onyx moves over to the yellow dragon, sniffing the air around it. He gives a mournful coo that Ripley and Holgrin echo before turning his fierce golden eyes on the sky above the palace, ever vigilant.

“I’m fine, let’s not waste time.” You glance around him at the yellow body, and he can feel the tension settling into your body. It’s no wonder he’s so attracted to you. The fact you’ve got your head in the game and can remind him to get back on track is more than he ever thought he’d get from a partner. That thought halts his thoughts. A partner? Is that how he sees you already, as his partner? The realization has an unbidden smile gracing his face. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before nodding and stepping away.

Gesturing toward the lone postern door leading into the family quarters, Jungkook says, “Let’s find my father.”

He approaches the entryway, much like he did that fateful day all those years ago, brimming with just as much anger at his father as he was then. Yoongi and Rit fall into place behind him, with you between them. Even though you’ve gotten better at fighting and Jungkook is confident you could take on a cluster of guards on your own, he still feels better with them taking the brunt if it comes to it.

The smells of cedar and cinnamon flood the hallway, complimenting Jungkook’s own clove. A glance back shows Yoongi’s hands fisted around hazy balls of air, and as they pass by one of the enchanted fire sconces on the wall, Rit’s fingertips spark with teardrop-shaped flames. Pulling more on his own power, Jungkook directs shadows to slither along the walls, seeking ahead for any signs of life.

A crashing sound draws Jungkook to a stop. He holds up a hand, halting everyone else. Another wave of clamor echoes down the hall. There are faint voices, one pleading and the other full of acid. A feminine scream rings out, followed by another thunderous boom.

That starts Jungkook into a sprint. The slapping of feet behind him lets him know you’re all following. He careens around the last corner before barreling through the open doorway into his parents’ chambers. The door hangs off the hinges, splinters of wood scatter under his feet as he skids to a halt. The outer parlor is a mess. Furniture is overturned and scorched, feathers and stuffing dot the floor with swaths of cream looking like fallen snow on the charred remains of a house.

A crack of lighting illuminates the inner bedroom, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “I won’t stop!” screams a familiar voice, only it’s broken and far more frantic than he’s ever heard it before. His father crosses the doorway, steps churning across the floor as he continues to rave. “I can’t idly sit by and watch you die! I’ll go to The Steppes and murder them all myself if it means getting another hatchling for you!” 

“Love, please,” rasps his mother’s voice, sounding as frail as glass.

The floor rumbles as more lightning flashes through the bedroom. His mother's whimper barely carries to his ears under his father’s anguished roar. The sounds are punctuated with another round of thunder.

Jungkook nods at Yoongi, jerking his chin toward the doorway. He points a finger at Rit, indicating from him to you. Rit moves closer to you, putting himself between the crumbled door into the hall and your body. Yoongi steps up between Jungkook, ready to do whatever needs to be done.

Stepping into the room, Jungkook barely recognizes the space. The furniture is even more destroyed than the parlor. The only thing not utterly decimated is the small chaise lounge his mother is lying on.

Her weepy, cloudy eyes find him first, and a choked cry sputters from her thin lips. Pale, veiny skin and rheumy eyes framed by thinning black hair. Her skeletal fingers grip the front of her robes as she heaves in sobs. There are songs written about the beautiful golden queen of Bolas. But now, she looks like a wisp of what she once was…all that beauty wasted away into a heart-wrenching reality. She’s dying. Somehow, someway…Jungkook knows it’s true.

“What’s happening?” he asks, his voice cold and distanced from the sorrow pounding away behind his breastbone.

King Jeon wheels around from where he was staring out the broken window. His eyes are wild, huge, and shot through with a spiderweb of red, ruptured vessels. “You!” he hisses, jabbing a finger in Jungkook’s direction. “It’s all your fault!”

Lightning careens across the room in arching jets of blue and blinding white. Jungkook’s mother screams, and the room explodes into motion. A wall of air sweeps around Jungkook, blowing the lightning strike apart and sending it scattering around the room, where it chars and causes even more destruction.

Exhaustion is evident in how his father wields his Signis, hurling bolt after bolt of light at Jungkook. Being tired doesn’t lessen the power to begin each attack. It just makes it more erratic and unpredictable. There’s a reason Maves should never wield for long periods of time without resting.

“Stop!” his mother cries. “Please, stop!”

Another concussion of air, mixed with Jungkook’s own shadows, deflects the next barrage of bolts. His mother’s plea turns into a curdling scream as an errant spark of light hits the chaise she’s on, the wood frame splintering and snapping under her, sending her toppling onto the floor.

The lightning stops instantly, Jungkook’s father wailing in anguish as he rushes across the room and throws himself on the floor beside his wife. Jungkook can’t understand the babbling from his father as he gathers her into his arms. The incoherent stream eventually clears to a constant string of apologies.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook tries again through clenched teeth. His muscles ache from holding onto such a large amount of power, but he knows he can’t let his guard down yet. Yoongi is vibrating with energy behind him. Surprisingly, Jungkook notes that you and Rit have also moved into the room behind Yoongi. Rit gives him a subtle jerk of his chin when their gazes meet momentarily. It’s clear; no guard is coming to intervene.

Onyx, what’s happening out there? Any sign of Vikmag?

We spotted him out over the ocean not long ago. He’s circling The Serpent but doesn’t seem intent to face us.

“I just wanted to keep her,” his father sobs. “I just wanted to keep her!”

“Keep who?” Jungkook takes a few tentative steps toward his parents. His mother’s eyes are closed, blood trickles from a shallow cut on her face from where she fell, but her chest still rises and falls. Tension, which he didn’t realize was there until he could ensure she was still breathing, bleeds out of Jungkook’s shoulders.

King Jeon tips his chin up, finally meeting Jungkook’s eyes. His father looks like a ghost. The dark, luscious mane of hair he always kept so well groomed is greasy and stringy around his gaunt cheeks. White flecked stubble covers his jaw, and dried spittle crusts at the corners of his mouth. His stare is lifeless, like he’s already been defeated by a foe bigger and darker than Jungkook.

“My sweet, sweet beloved,” he whispers before his gaze drops back to his wife. King Jeon smoothes a trembling hand over his wife’s hair, brushing it back from her face. It’s then that Jungkook sees it: the light golden webbing spreading out from her temples, down her neck, and over the backs of her hands. Golden Blight, the disease that stole his brother and is now eating away at his mother, named for the yellowing of the blood vessels as they die and no longer supply the body with vital blood.

“Impossible.” Jungkook balks. He retreats a step, bumping into Yoongi, who places a steadying hand on his shoulder. His mother always had a delicate constitution, easily catching coughs and fevers, but he never once thought she had the Blight. When he was old enough to understand, he spent countless hours sequestered in the royal archives, learning all he could about Golden Blight, wanting to know what cruel disease stole his brother away from him. How could he have not known? Where were the signs?

Jeon continues to stroke his wife’s hair as words dribble from his lips in a stream of emotion and lost hope. “She fell ill shortly after Junghyun died. The Magus believed it was brought on by her grief. I was desperate and did everything I could…even things that were unthinkable to others. I discovered the enchantment for dragon bonds. It worked. It kept the Blight at bay, but only for a short period. It worked, but I couldn’t just selfishly covet it for myself. People would have grown too suspicious of me…of your mother. It would have been found out, my weaknesses revealed to our enemies. So, I did what I had to.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Jungkook asks, his tone low and dangerous. No matter how much he loves his mother, he’s not sure he could damn an entire species to save her. However, a sinking feeling fills his belly when his thoughts turn to you. He’s not saying he loves you; it’s far too soon for that, but would he willingly enslave and condemn an entire race to death if it meant having you for a bit longer? He shudders to think of even having ever to decide something like that.

“The last dragon died two days ago,” his father proclaims instead of answering Jungkook, the anger returning to his tone. “And now you’ve sentenced your mother to the same fate, you hateful, insolent, backstabbing little shit!”

A swirl of light cracks through the room, buffeted by an onslaught of air and shadows. Fire erupts, the powerful heat seeming to absorb the stinging seer from the hot bolt before Rit directs it out the window. Flames pour out of the room, taking the lightning with it. “My mother!” Jungkook yells, using shadows to shove his father back from her unresponsive form.

He sees you dart forward in his peripheral, gathering her into your arms and sliding behind the ruin of the chaise. It’s not foolproof protection, but it’ll have to be enough. Jungkook is intimately aware you’ll do everything within your means to keep her from harm.

Fire rips through the room again, being spurred on by a gust of air as Yoongi and Rit combine their strength. King Jeon snarls, flicking a hand that sends a strike of power into the heart of the flame, making it bisect around him and crash into the walls, catching the hanging tapestries on fire.

“I’ll never forgive you! You’ll die for what you’ve done!” The words echo through the room before they’re swallowed by a staggering succession of blasts. Smoke and heat fill the room, forcing Yoongi to change focus and use his ability to funnel everything through the window.

“You should have told me!” Jungkook screams, lobbing a fistful of shadows forward. They snake around his father’s arms and legs, tightening until he’s struggling to extend his hands for attack. “I could have tried to help!”

“The only help you can offer me is your death,” his father hisses, blood covering his rictus smile. “Your death as payment for your mother’s!”

Energy pours from King Jeon, crackling and radiating through the room. Jungkook can feel his hair standing on end, chills coursing over his body. He’s unsure if there’s such a thing as a soul bond between humans. But, the unspoken solidarity with which Yoongi and Rit stand with him feels as close to that as he’d guess it would be. He doesn’t have to utter a word. They just move with him, pulling on their Signis’ to join with his, creating the perfect balance of wind, fire, and darkness.

The air in the room seems to combust, hurtling everyone back several steps. His father must have broken free from his shadows in a last-ditch effort, putting him directly in front of the giant, gaping hole where the window used to be. He catches a glimpse of his father stumbling backward from the blast, right before he disappears into the open air, much the way Jungkook did all those years ago when he flung himself from that very window. Only this time, no dragon is waiting below to break the fall. Vikmag is miles away, perhaps making his own peace with the end.

Rit makes to go toward the window, but Jungkook grabs his shoulder. “Don’t. He doesn’t deserve another moment of your life.” Jungkook knows Rit must be feeling similar things to what he is. The fact that most of his life was dedicated to the Crown in some form. There is an unreadable look in Rit’s amber eyes, but finally, his shoulders sag, and he gives him a subtle nod.

“Jungkook,” your soft voice carries to him from across the room in the silence that follows.

He leaps into action, sprinting across the room and swinging around the splintered chaise. Yoongi is already kneeling on the other side of you, one of the Queen’s hands tucked between his.

“Mom,” Jungkook whispers, dropping to his knees before you. He takes the paper-light weight of his mother from your arms, cradling her against his chest. “Mom, wake up.”

Her lashes flutter, and her eyes slowly peel open until cloudy, muddy-brown irises show around a sickly grey pupil. The whites of her eyes are shot through with faint tendrils of gold.

“My sweet boy,” she sighs. Her hand trembles as she tries to bring it up to Jungkook’s face. He catches it and holds it against his cheek, now wet with free-falling tears.

“I’m so sorry, Mom. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry,” Jungkook quietly cries.

Tears gather along her lashes, making the gold slowly overtaking her waterline seem more prominent. “Never be sorry for standing up for what you believe in,” she says. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt, for this to go on for so long. He told me…he told me it was safe. It wasn’t until l-later that I found out the t-truth, and by then—” her words cut off as she’s overcome with a coughing fit. Gold flecks dot her lips, mixing with the crimson blood frothing at the corners of her mouth. “By then, it was too late. Nothing would stop him. Even when I refused a new dragon…he would force me.”

“Shh, Mom, you don’t have to explain. It’s over now. He’ll never hurt you again,” Jungkook coos, offering his mother assurances.

“Just p-promise me. When you find love,” her rheumy eyes glance your way, and her thin lips spread in a semblance of her once beautiful smile, “don’t lock her away in a cage.”

“Never, I swear it.” Jungkook holds his mother tighter, feeling the slow drain of her strength. Gold feathers along her cheeks. It blooms faster, snaking like roots beneath her skin, as the disease runs rampant for the first time in decades without a dragon bond to stop it.

Jungkook isn’t sure how long he’s been kneeling on the floor, but you rouse him with a soft shake to his shoulder. “Jungkook, it’s time to go.” He looks down at his empty hands. How long have they been empty?

“Where is she?” he asks, frantically gaining his feet and jerking in a circle to look around the destroyed room.

“Hey, hey, calm down. I’ll take you to her if that’s what you want?” you ask, hesitant to offer that option.

He knows then that she’s gone. You’re simply trying to be gentle with him. He wants to yell at you not to coddle him, but all he can do is gather you into his arms and shake his head. “No, no, it’s okay. There’s nothing left for me here…we should go.”

This is the after he’s so often spoken of, yet he never fully considered what he would do once he reached it. There’s a lot that needs to be taken care of, but right now, he could care less. Jungkook just wants to climb on Onyx’s back with you and launch into the sky, soaring into oblivion, just the three of you.

So, that’s precisely what he does.

🖤🖤🖤

One year later

“Jungkook!” you call out. After a few minutes of no response, you sigh, pushing up from the comfortable spot you had by the fire. “Jungkook!” you try again once you’re on the garden terrace just outside your chambers.

Grunts of exertion and whoops of laughter echo from down in the courtyard. “Just a moment, dear!” Jungkook responds, his voice carrying up to you.

“I swear, if you and Rit are at it again with those swords, I’m going to turn you over my knee!” you teasingly shout, repeating one of the first flirty threats Jungkook ever said to you, and earn yourself peals of laughter in response.

Life with Jungkook is easy. Everything has been, for the most part, since King Jeon fell from the window that fateful day. Things were initially chaotic in the aftermath of the Golden King’s downfall. Especially considering Jungkook whisked you away on the back of Onyx without so much as a word to Rit and Yoongi. But that seemed so insignificant in hindsight.

You spent nearly a month with him on the shores of Lork, just basking in the sun and eating fish and coconuts. When you had returned to the capital, Namjoon, and Yoongi were swift to hand the reins back over to Jungkook as if he hadn’t disappeared like that.

Just as you had assumed, the people of Bolas accepted the transition of power well. The guards took a little more convincing, but Taehyung got the point across real quick when the fleet landed at The Steppes.

There are no more forced bonds, and no dragon, regardless of their power or ability, must take on a Mave if they do not wish. However, the fact that Jungkook saved their entire race has curried him favor with them. It was worrying, at first, everyone thinking that dragons would simply refuse—not that anyone would blame them at all.

You glance at the inky-scaled egg soaking in the heat from the sun a few feet away. It’s nestled in a basket filled with soft blankets. It’s one of the first hatchlings to come after. Apparently, Onyx took a liking to Ripley during their time together at the rebel encampment, much to Jungkook’s dismay. He only grumbles about it occasionally now. But every time he looks at the egg and then at the swell of your belly, he can’t stop his smile or the warmth in his eyes.

The child growing in your belly will be a powerful Mave, or so Jungkook says. Though, everyone agrees with him just from the power that radiates from you. The hatchling from the egg is sure to be a powerful Reaver as well, considering Onyx’s teleportation ability—which you didn’t learn about until much later and left you shocked for hours—and Ripley’s chameleon ability. 

Jungkook and Rit are barechested in the courtyard as you step up to the railing and lean over as far as your belly will allow. Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung are all sitting around the outer ring of the training pit, hooting and encouraging one man or the other. “Be up soon,” Jungkook grunts, swinging his sword in quick movements that Rit easily parries.

A shudder catches in your peripherals, drawing your attention to the egg in the basket. It rocks gently, with a slight vibration. “Huh,” you muse aloud to yourself. “I wond—oh!” you exclaim as a rush of liquid pours down your leg. “Oh, no.”

It’s sometime in the middle of the night that you watch Jungkook gently sway and dance around your bedchamber, cradling your newborn son in his arms. He sings softly, his gentle words filling the room with such beauty. You had no idea Jungkook could sing so well. It seems like he’ll never stop amazing you.

The last several hours are a blur. But, no matter what went on, you’ll never forget the surge of power that flooded the air around you when your son took his first breath. A mewling dragon cry joined him in testing out their lungs. Ripley and Onyx’s egg cracked the instant your contractions started. Both beautiful boys entered the world at the same time. Fate, Jungkook calls it.

Maybe it is fate; a story that will be passed down through the ages—one that will be carried on wings of mist and memories.

⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List   ©️ 2023-08-21 ColorMePurplex2

[12pt-times-new-roman]

I missed the first hour of combat but — C3E62, let's go!

"We built this for you!" oh honey.

Bor'dor has the lucky feat.

"In the aura of this oddly dunamantic energy emanating from Ashton—" Is this the first time Matt has confirmed that Ashton's abilities are dunamantic in nature? I know it's been obvious from our standpoint for a while now, and it was implied to the party by Caleb's mention of dunamis, but is that the first time it's been acknowledged in-game?

As Laudna starts to get flashes of memories eventually leading to Delilah, her ribcage cracks open to release a hound of ill omen modeled after the Briarwoods' undead hounds.

The dome above the temple begins to glow as a voice echoes from above. "Leave or be judged." A winged celestial being — a Dawnborn Angel — descends, with a flaming sword in one hand, to the middle of the chamber.

As far as I can tell, this is a home-brew. The Judicator seems to be modeled on a planetar (same AC and similar abilities, though likely a lower CR), but the "dawnborn angel" resembles nothing I can find.

Prism refers to herself at the Matron of Ravens' daughter. Now, her calling the Matron "mother" makes sense given the goddess' titles and namelessness; but being a shadar-kai and a wizard who has a "complicated relationship" with the Matron while calling herself the Matron's daughter is definitely cause for concern.

Deni$e has 3-4 rogue levels.

"The Judicator does not back down, it does not feel fear." It's also an "entity trained to hunt those of arcane persuasions." All I can think of are cybermen from Doctor Who.

The summons get the HDYWTDT on the Judicator!

A mid-combat break?? Is this gonna be a C2E86 situation where the entire episode is combat?

An angel, a demon, and an earth elemental walk into a bar...

Orym climbs the demon's back and sits on its shoulders like he's mounting a horse, which it begrudgingly allows.

Ashton speaks to the now-uncontrolled earth elemental in primordial. "We gotta get these people out of your home. Can you get me up there?" With its reaction (read: because Matt is giving the party some leeway here), the elemental grabs Ashton and attempts to huck them up to the angel with a nat20 (what the FUCK is the count on this? this pendulum has got to swing in this half, yeah?), because "the spirits of the forest have taken over where the arcana has failed."

The barlgura grapples the angel and brings it to the ground.

THERE'S the Chop Suey joke, finally. "When angels deserve to dieeee...."

Deni$e has a barbarian rage ability called "spirit of the mountain"? I can't find any barbarian subclass with this ability, and it's not a dwarf thing, so is this a home-brew barbarian subclass?

Bor'dor gets his second HDYWTDT on the angel with a 5th level inflict wounds. He holds its head, kisses its forehead, and says, "enough."

A second Judicator, the one that was patrolling the city, approaches the temple, but turns around and leaves at the sight.

It's so interesting to think about the way this battle would be interpreted in different campaigns. In C1, this would've been a heroic tale of villagers rising up against their oppressors and succeeding; in C2, it would've had underlying tones of national, material, Exandrian politics rather than theological ones, but still would've had that tinge of objective victory; and in C3, it is inundated by theological rhetoric and the politics of the gods, and mired by uncertain, subjective success.

The Judicators' masks are not worn, they are fused to the skull. (Again. Cybermen.)

Eventually, Abadeena's magic, alongside the spirits of the forest and the magic of the villagers, reduces the temple to rubble.

Orym is reconciling, trying to bring together conflicting goals, and Laudna clocks it with a pissed-off expression.

One by one, the remaining "captives" begin to follow the first into the forest, exiting the township and heading to the north, except for a single child. "I'm... I just wanted to feel like I belonged to something, you know, I—" And Abandeena responds, "Do you understand why this was wrong?" With that, they feel the final weight lifted, the hillside and village finally free.

Laudna approaches Abadeena. "Be careful not to become what you despise." She looks back with a genuine honesty. "Sometimes, you must do things you wish weren't yours to do for the betterment of your people. I'm not proud of everything I've done, but don't think your words are lost on me." "There's a thin line between being a savior and an oppressor." "Well. Thank you for being our saviors... we hear, of the Loam and the Leaf, thank you. For your deeds, whatever we can do, you have it." She casts some healing, and allows the Bells Hells to sleep in her house for the night because she can't cast scrying today.

Ashton asks for a private word with themself, Abadeena, and Prism. Nothing comes of it yet, as the village begins to gather toward the city center. They cook, swap stories, and sing.

For the first time in a long time, the village is free to give their thanks to the eidolons and to each other.

Bor'dor can't stop thinking of the face of the angel as they died, and he doesn't know whether he did the right thing. "Something is happening, and faith is shaken."

Prism is trying to view all of this with a skeptical, academic, objective mind, but she can't help but second-guess her subjective experience because everyone's happy and everyone's sad. She feels that this was a net good, but feels that compromises her objectivity.

Ashton believes that, leaving everything out of view out of consideration, this was a net good. They go with Prism and Abadeena behind a tree. ("It's time to get sexy now! It's our turn!" Talisein please)

There were tithes taken from the townsfolk. The temple was wealthy enough; these were not taken by the arbiters of the temple, according to Abadeena. She drags it to the city center, and Prolef begins to redistribute the wealth taken by the temple back to the townspeople.

While that exchange was happening, Orym finds Laudna. She remarks that the townspeople are ignorant of the greater evils in the world. They both agree that this ship is sinking, but this town doesn't know that; they agree that they are frustrated at their ignorance, their bliss, and lament that they have to get back to their people.

Laudna and Orym are so angry, but they can't articulate why — it feels to them like they just put themselves in great danger, when there's so much more at stake than there is in "this piss-ant town dealing with their piss-ant squabbles... I don't know why I'm so angry about it." "You've known more than your fair share of shit... I don't even think... I'm having trouble believing there's anything we can do. I just keep stepping forward because it's what I've always gone, but I don't know if there's anything we can do." "Ashton said something quite profound to me the other night, when were taking out watch around the campfire. Profound especially for them. Right now, if we try to change the world, it's just going to seem like an impossible task, it's just too much. But we can try and change that which we do have control over, our immediate surroundings. Save our friends." "I don't know how much time we have left on this planet — feels like it could all go soon, in a week. But I just wanna make do with the time that I have with the people that I care about, and I want to find them, I want to find them again." "Then let's find them. It's the only directive we have at the moment, the only thing we can control." Orym takes her hand. "I don't understand why you bounced down through history to be here with me right now, but I sure as hells am glad you are here." "I've seen a lot of shit, Orym. That's why we're still here." "And more coming." "We've shown we can take it. Let's just get the fuck out of this town."

Abadeena escorts them back to her cottage. She smiles, and reveals her first name: Joan. Whether the Bells Hells decide to kill her or trust her, she thanks them for trusting the village, agrees to help them on the path toward home, and offers them answers.

If the temple comes back, she does not believe this town is the only one rising up. They have a coalition binding together townships of the Loam and the Leaf, keeping them away from the influence of Vasselheim.

Prism asks if she's ever heard of Predathos or speculated on its nature, asks if Predathos is an elemental weapon against the divine during the Founding. Abadeena knows nothing about Predathos except for Ludinus' speech and the Bells Hells' knowledge, but she does recognize the confidence with which Ludinus spoke and the way his words influenced the people of her town. To them, the eidolons have a symbiotic relationship, as it has been for all those who lived on Exandria before the gods coopted it.

"The lands of Exandria hold to them innumerable eidolons that are tied to the forces of this world, of the titans that first shaped it. With the titans long-gone, they persist however they can, oftentimes among the rules of the gods who now rein. So they are echoes, shades, the remnants and the memory of the titans, of the great elemental queens and kinds of this world, the ones who originally sculpted it." Prism questions whether Predathos is more intelligent, more vengeant, than a simple "black hole."

Orym says to Prism that they don't know anything, and Prism retorts that she's trying to help by way of being really good at learning things. The only thing Orym has to go on is the track record of the people trying to release Predathos, which Prism agrees is "damning."

"Prism... I don't understand the gods, I don't know anything about the titans, I don't know eidolon from eyeliner. I believe that... I'm a widower because of the people who want to bring this about. So it's hard for me to wrangle with the other side." finally

Ah. So this encounter was not designed to pit the Bells Hells against the gods or against the titans, but it was designed to force them to reckon with the fact that they know nothing, nothing about what's happening around them, and further to force them to seek out information about the things they don't know.

AH. Abadeena does not wish to destroy the gods, but to return to a state of Exandria in which the gods and the Primordials lived in balance. Mortal races are an invasive species just as much as the gods are, but there was a point in history where they, the primordials, the eidolons, and the gods existed in conjunction with one another.

She also notes that the primordials, the eidolons, do not feel a threat from Predathos — and that the Matron of Ravens offers no warnings of Predathos, no insight, if she saw it coming at all.

Ashton and Laudna: Ashton doesn't think that the Hishari have anything to do with anything — that is something that they'll be asking of the Bells Hells "once everything quiets down." They are so angry right now, and Laudna notes that she and Orym feel the same. Ashton's worst nightmare was their very first divine intervention. "The gods saw me, a god saw me, I was not invisible. It was not hungry, it wasn't fearful, it wasn't — it was a messenger, it was sent, and it told me what I really didn't want to hear: that it doesn't fucking care, that I might as well be fucking gone, that I was a mistake."

Bor'dor goes out to look for Orym, but rolled a 4, so Orym — from his perch on a high tree — takes pity on him and (after Liam asks whether Bor'dor is a half-elf or not) reveals himself.

With a 19, Bor'dor impressively climbs the tree and joins Orym.

"Do you believe in god?" "I mean, it's beyond question. The gods have shaped the history of this world, they have dropped miracles from their seats on high and caused irreparable damage — and unmistakable good. I don't know that I care — I care about you and me, and I care about my family across the ocean." "My life is vert small. I wake up, I work, I go to sleep. My beliefs have been black and white. These people told just o go into a church and fight something that I can't fathom, and int he moment, where I felt victory, I didn't see a divinity or radiance or whatever the fuck you call it, I just felt sadness and compassion. Did you see the way it looked? There — why did we have to do that? Why is that what happened? And then I wonder, also, why — that woman, Abadeena, has no fucking clue what you people are talking about." [...] "I know, I think, barely more than you do, that people who are so determined to bust something out of our moon that it's worth killing a lot of people to get there. Do I believe in the gods? Yes. Have they had a ton of bearing in my life? No." "So you get to Ludinus, and then what? We just killed an angel, we saved a woman who has no clue about the fight that she's fighting. This village has no clue, they're fucked either way — what are we doing here? My life is very small. What are we doing here?" "I think that, um... Ashton, Laudna and I have friends that we were with, got pulled away from, and I think we've got a one in 2000 chance of stopping more people I care about from getting killed." "Okay. Let's do that, then."

Bonding over shit jokes and laxatives. Ah, the quintessential Critical Role experience.

But still, Bor'dor extends a hand. "I go where you go."

I'm just saying, my "multiple tables running at the same canon time concurrently, exactly like the way Pathfinder Society specials run" theory gains all the more merit.

Laudna stays up with Prism reading through books, and Marisha manifests Beau through Laudna. (Someone write an essay about how each of these players manifests specific aspects of a character throughout each campaign. Tag me when you do, if you do it before me.)

In the books, there are tithing ledgers, as well as deals and plans between the temple and the Silvercall Mill about buying out portions of the neighborhood. These plans were awaiting approval from others in the network — discussions about finding land for temples of the Wildmother and other deities hat wasn't already controlled. It's a lot of discussion about calculated expansion by Vasselheim and Othanzia.

With an arcana check, Prism identifies the runes on the Judicator as having an original draconic base, an arcana script that is divine and protective in nature but in some cases near anti-magic. It didn't present itself in battle, but the Judicator has the ability to dispel existing magic — its old magic, possibly related to the anti-magic cone displayed by the Mage Hunter golems that Ludinus employed.

Also in these papers is a discussion of Vasselheim sending forces to leyline nexuses. Prism notes that the leylines are stationary except for certain celestial events, of which the apogee solstice is the largest — nexuses stay where they are placed until the next apogee solstice moves that nexus, resulting in people gravitating to that area for the time between now and the next apogee solstice. It's about resources.

Prism has been away from her home for a decade. She believes that these past few days are validation for those ten years spent at the Cobalt Soul (or elsewhere), and stifles a personal smile.

In the morning, they are met with the smell of breakfast prepared by Abadeena. She offers to create a scroll for Prism so that she can copy the spell into her spellbook. (Again, because she's an Order of Scribes wizard, Prism can copy spells much more quickly than the average wizard.)

Ashton approaches Abadeena about the magic in their head. "It seems to bend the world... I have dreams, sometimes they're inhuman, sometimes I'm other people but I'm not... you ever seen anything like this?" "Like this? I have not at all... however, if you are to continue to travel, maybe speak with the spirits. Maybe things that are older than all of us combined have better insight than this frail form." ooooooo something something the Luxon is older than the world and so it makes sense that they might be some kind of primordial force. it makes sense that they might be a primordial titan that existed "before the gods" because the primordials also did.

Finishing breakfast, they enter the scrying chamber, and Orym enters unannounced — having taken a point of exhaustion from a sleepless night.

Again, Chetney giving each of the Bells Hells material gifts is a fucking genius move by Travis, because they all have scrying targets now. Whether intentional or not, it's genius, and it really goes reflect the themes of this campaign.

They see snow. Snow, falling, across a mountain range. They see Deanna first, with a prominent symbol of the Dawnfather — then they see FRIDA, a rosegold bipedal robot — then, the familiar image of Chetney, trekking behind with excitement and distance — then Imogen and Fearne, following behind, as FCG wheels up alongside them, all trekking through the snow. Prism and Orym recognize the smoky sight of Kravarad, and recognize that they are not far from Uthodurn. They see Imogen grasp her cloak and look back, as if she's making eye contact with the basin, with the scrying censor — Laudna shouts her name, but the image dissipates.

Regardless, they recognize that the other half of Bells Hells is on another continent, on the other side of the world.

Orym asks if there's anyone nearby who can transport them, and Abadeena notes that "those in Vasselheim could, if you had their favor." Yet she does know someone, about 5 days travel's away from Hearthdale, who could transport them: Hevestro, hierophant of the Emerald Tree, a powerful archdruid whom Abadeena once trained under.

So Team Issylra has two options: go to Vasselheim, a longer journey but with more people who could help, or go to Hevestro and count on the good will of a single archdruid.

Abadeena can scry two more times, and Prism can scry once, making for a total of 3 more scries. (Ahh, now I see why this episode is 5 hours long.)

Scry 1: Dariax. He's chewing on his nails with a dirty, scarred face, with a look of concern, sitting in a dark space they can't quite make out. He plays absentmindedly with the compass around his neck, thinking. A blue hand catches his holder, he gives a nod and stands with his spear — Dorian, also looking a bit worse for wear. "That's the bag of dicks—" "That's our bag of dicks!"

Scry 2: Bor'dor's Home / Brother. "Don't take your clothes off!" (Orym: "C'mon, let it happen.") "There, you see a vision of a homestead, modest but well-furnished, not quite the home of a farmer or a person who keeps cattle or sheep. It's an unfamiliar space to you (Bor'dor). You're uncertain whether this dagger is calling a connection to a place of import or a particular answer to your question, unfortunately."

Abadeena copies the scrying spell onto a scroll, which Prism copies into her spellbook.

Now, the Bells Hells must decide between two things: going to Vasselheim and trying to convince them to help, or taking their chances with the dangerous journey through a canyon to Hevestro's homestead. Orym's gut says the latter.

Matt confirms that no one in the party would know anything about the waters between western Issylra and eastern Wildemount, and that it would take a number of weeks to traverse it by ship. For the record, based on Exandrian timezones, geology, and cosmology, there could be an ocean the size of the Pacific in that space.

They decide to go toward the gorge where Hevestro lives, and Abadeena grants them a wind-based, cougar-shaped eidolon that will escort them. "If you meet others of the Valley Coalition, tell them of what has been done here, and let them know that we are ready to help them as well."

[mickyaltierisgf]

he’ll appear out of nowhere pt. 2 

pt. 1 here

poly!ghostface x f!reader 

nsfwish but nothing really graphic in this one

wordcount: 2k

Roman’s hand pulled away from you, and Mickey adjusted his hold on you as he stood up from the couch. You were distracted momentarily as he carried you down the hall, with Roman leading the way, until your bedroom door came into view. You wondered how he knew where your room was without asking and realized they might have been watching you all day or even longer than that.

You wiggled, and Mickey almost lost his grip on you entirely, so he quickly dropped you on the bed. As soon as you made a move to swerve off the side, he pounced a bit clumsily, and it looked more like he’d tripped over his robes. He managed to grab one of your wrists, and you tried to push him away with your other before he caught that one too. Then Roman was on your other side, helping him pin you down in a vice-like grip.

You were a mess of confusion and conflicting emotions. Horrified and grief-stricken not just for the loss of two past lovers but for your brother too, who had been torn away from you, you kept imagining the varied paths your life and his could have taken if things had turned out differently, and each one seemed better than the one you were stuck in. And despite it all, your heart was happy to see your lost lovers again, even though they’d betrayed and abandoned you. And even worse, though you kept resisting them, you were undeniably still turned on. Roman reminded you of this as he tugged his gloves off, and one of his hands slid up your dress again.

There are tears trailing down your cheeks, and you don’t take notice until Mickey’s lips drift along your skin, kissing them away. You curled in on yourself, suddenly self-conscious. What must they think of you, trembling with tears and wanting both? But they seemed to understand. Mickey let go of your wrists to wrap his arms around you, and Roman leaned in close on your other side, cradling you securely between them.

You must have fallen asleep, because when your eyes fluttered open, it was pitch black, and you almost couldn’t see them still laying around you except for their arms still encircling you. Every few hours, your eyes seemed to drift open by themselves, as if your brain was telling you to make sure they were still there or had truly been there to begin with. Somehow, when you woke, you kept thinking it was all a dream until you felt their warmth next to you.

The next time your eyes opened, you blearily looked on either side of you, reaching out to feel beside you. Both sides were empty and cool to the touch. You were still tired but on high alert now, making you sit up much quicker than you would on a typical day. There was a thin blanket covering you, and you nearly tossed it over the side as you got off the bed. But as you neared the door and listened to see if you would hear any noise down the hall or beyond, you felt your energy slip away, and you wanted to crawl back into bed.

You weren’t sure where they went or if they would come back, and you weren’t even sure if you wanted them to. But something told you that you did, and that’s why you constantly had to turn away to avoid looking at the photo of Randy, feeling his stare as if he were there physically.

You looked out your window, seeing the thin curtain flutter with the wind and hearing it carry whispers with it. Then two figures in black climbed through, like thieves in the night. You narrowed your eyes, annoyed that they were still playing these games, especially with you, after all they’d both put you through.

"There’s a door," you bit out, addressing them.

"The window was open," Mickey shrugged.

"To let in some air."

"You never leave the window open," Roman said knowingly.

You narrowed your eyes further. "I wonder why not?" you said sarcastically.

"C’mon, you’re not still mad," Mickey said, a disarming smile almost charming your anger away, but you held fast to your fury.

"About what part?" you questioned. "The part where you helped that insane hag kill my brother and almost kill me? Or how about..." You looked at Roman, standing a few paces behind Mickey, watching you cautiously. "When you used me just to get closer to Sidney, trying to find out where she was hiding, and once you had her, you threw me aside!"

"That’s not true! I never used you to get close to Sid," Roman denied, coming closer so that he and Mickey were almost boxing you in again. "I never even asked you where she was. I found that out by myself. And I didn’t throw you aside; I just tried to keep a distance because I wanted to keep you safe," he said imploringly, reaching a hand out to hold yours, but you yanked it away.

"You wanted to be the ‘sole survivor', I heard you. I heard what you said to Sid. Almost every word. And you didn’t think about me at all; revenge was all you cared about! And then you were going to frame her for all your murders. You would have let me die and let her take the fall as long as you got away with your pathetic little scheme," you spat nastily.

"I wouldn’t have let you die, Y/N," he said impatiently. "I admit, things got a little out of my control, but I would have done anything to keep you safe and alive!" he insisted, and still he tried to touch you to make you believe him, but you only scowled and moved farther out of his reach.

"Even give up your plan? Let Sidney live? Risk getting caught and taking all the blame? Don’t kid yourself; you were too selfish to do that, and I was never that important to you anyway," you said, still looking at him balefully and refusing to let any part of him near you.

You saw Mickey step closer. "And YOU! You’re even worse than he is!" You whirled on him next. "You wanted to get caught! You wanted people to know you were a nutjob who killed all his friends and his own girlfriend!"

"I never wanted to kill you; you know that, Y/N," Mickey crooned, his voice pitched low and beseeching. "Nancy killed Randy, and there was nothing I could do about it. But I would never let her get you too. I would have carved her guts out myself before I let her touch you." His eyes seemed to be swirling with raw emotion. You were almost hypnotized by him. "You were supposed to be at the trial, and then we’d get to walk away from it all together," he said benignly, the smile on his face reminding you terribly of that night, but you were still caught in the web he was weaving.

"You never would have gotten away with it. Even if you didn’t go to jail, they would have locked you in a loony bin. And that’s where you belong!" You said, trying to shake off the effect his voice, his eyes, and his mere proximity were having on you. He looked at you so deeply, his dark eyes and voice impassioned, and he cupped your cheek with a gentle hand. They were pitiful excuses, but Mickey had always had a way to make anything he said sound pretty to your ears, so you would never doubt him.

A bitter chuckle cut through the moment, and you flinched, slowly backing away from Mickey but letting his hand linger as long as possible against your skin. You caught Roman’s accusing stare. "You say I used you, but you were using me just as much!" He paced away from you, shaking his head, and his face became a mask of rage as he faced you again. "You just wanted me to fuck you because he couldn’t!" he spat, pointing accusingly.

Mickey’s imploring eyes turned confused as he lowered his hand and turned to look at Roman.

"But it’s not that he couldn't, was it?" He asked you, tilting his head birdlike. "He wouldn’t."

Your face burned, and you felt angry tears well up as he sneered cruelly at you, but you wouldn’t let them fall.

"What the fuck?" Mickey asked, watching Roman incredulously, but Roman’s entire focus was on you.

"And all it takes is one look, and you’re ready to crawl on your hands and knees for him while you push me away. Well, have fucking fun then! You won’t be seeing me again," he said coldly and callously, like it doesn’t really matter to him, although his face is noticeably red. He storms away, your heart rattling like the door as it slams shut behind him.

Mickey looked bewildered and floundered between staying with you or following Roman.

"Leave it to me to piss off a murderous psychopath," you mutter sourly. You were furious at him for what he'd said to you, but already you were starting to feel guilty for the way you’d treated him.

"Just like Randy," Mickey remarked, turning a small smirk your way.

You snorted, furtively wiping a stray tear that had slipped down from the corner of your eye.

"Go after him," you say. "Try to convince him to come back and not kill me."

"He’s a bit of a dick, but no matter how pissed off he is, he wouldn’t try to kill you," Mickey defended.

"I guess you’d know that better than I would. You’ve been with him much longer," you said wryly.

It had been days, and Roman hadn’t returned. Mickey came to you, but you were both tense, and not that you’d asked, but you secretly wished he would spend the night with you. He always left looking solemn, and each time you wondered if that would be the last time you saw him too. Until finally, one day, he swept in, looking lively again, while Roman followed guardedly. He spoke few words to you and never tried to get any closer. You got the feeling he was only there for Mickey, but you’d glance at him hopefully and see him looking at you the same way.

You made up without words, but still, he didn’t try to touch you, not like he did the first night, when both he and Mickey seemed ravenous.

He went and sat on your backyard porch, and Mickey eventually slipped away from you to sit with him. After a while, you went to peek out, curious that their whispers had stopped. They were sprawled out, Mickey’s mouth fastened to Roman’s neck, no doubt leaving a bruise but looking more like he was trying to tear a chunk out. You watched, intrigued, as they writhed together, and then you stood in the doorway, your shadow falling across them. Mickey raises his head, making eye contact with you.

"Wanna join?" he leers.

"Maybe I want to watch." You say, eyeing them as they continue to cling together and rub against one another. "How does this work, anyway?"

"What?" Mickey smirks like he knows exactly what you meant. "Who fucks who?" he asks crudely in return.

Roman suddenly flips them over, easily taking advantage of the distraction you’d provided.

"I do."/"Me." they both proclaim at the same time.

"We rock-paper-scissors for it," Mickey reveals. "He cheats."

"You can’t cheat at rock-paper-scissors," Roman states dismissively.

"How about...Best 2 out of 3. Winner gets to fuck me first," you challenge, leaving them momentarily gaping at you, as you poke out your tongue and grin. 

Roman smiles angelically at you, then his smile turns gloating as he looks down at Mickey.

"Why take turns?" Mickey counters. 

They turn identical grins on you and then scramble to their feet to chase you inside.

tbc

[fangirlirl]

Devil in Disguise

Chapter: 1/8

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock

Rating: Mature

A eerily peaceful afternoon, the wind gentle. He sat at the bench listening to the sounds of people going about their day. Whispers, gestures and inaudible expressions. Taking it all in, reflecting. He heard someone sit beside him, there was no unnecessary movement, he had a strong guess as to who it was but remained silent. It was too soon to go through this, it was better to pretend he wasn’t there. The feeling wasn’t mutual.

“I need your help.” His rough voice echoed through him, unsettling.

“Still on the run?” He retreated to the figure. He must’ve been covering up, making sure no one could recognise him.

“I only came to say hello.” The male stared at Matt “and I need some help”

“What could Mr Castle possible need my help with?” Matt tried to joke but Frank seemed too serious about this issue. After getting no further response, he made an offer. “I believe you’d like to discuss the matter in confidence?”

They entered the lawyer’s apartment, Matt removed his tinted glasses, left the cane to the side and walked towards the kitchen. The other man following like a shadow and glared over him. “Hungry?” He had only left the apartment to go for a stroll to clear his head of the restlessness.

“No.” Firm. He stepped closer to Matt and monovered him to stand between himself and the kitchen top. Matt could feel his exhaustion, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He must’ve been desperate to come to him for help, they were never really on good terms regardless of his alias.

“Maybe some coffee?” Matt tried, he wanted to get away from the situation without pushing anything with the larger man. He was confident in his abilities to fend himself, but the risk of exposing himself was not worth it at this time.

Frank was staring at the blind man’s face, it was putting him on alert for some primal reason. “I’ll have some coffee.” He wanted to believe he was being paranoid but every experience of his life had taught him to trust his instinct.

Without realisation Matt had placed a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “What’s the matter?” His expression plain but his tone was of concern. Frank didn’t like that. He didn’t want the pity, to be thought of as helpless.

“Just annoyed about the thing I’m here to discuss.” He wasn’t. “It’s Curt, he likes to keep things in the clear.” Matt’s hand was now on the side of Frank’s neck with his thumb creasing his jaw. He felt an instinctive need to comfort him.

“I’m all ears.” The space between them was closing in. Matt could hear Franks heartbeat, a rise in temperature in his throat, his steady breath. A sigh.

“What’re you doing Murdock?” His tone was stern. His body conflicted so he didn’t move.

“I’m not sure” Matt didn’t realise how close he was to the other man. He moved back only to encounter the kitchen unit behind him, before he could find his way out, Frank spoke up.

“I didn’t say stop.” Frank was curious, he waited for him to do something. Anything.

Matt wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up in this situation, he didn’t mean to lead on the Punisher. His instincts were similar to caring for an injured puppy, but now he felt like he had to follow through, he wanted to comfort him. He placed a hand on Frank’s neck, fingertips of the other hand reaching out and creasing his jaw. He felt Frank’s hand on his lower back, he could feel his arms on either side, strained muscles, purposeful. He leaned up and placed his lips on Frank’s, he had learnt from past experiences that he should close his eyes at this point, so he did. Frank held onto him, it was reassuring. His lips were warm. He could feel a cut on them, all the creases and bruises still healing.

Frank didn’t think this is at all what would happen when he agreed to go to the lawyers home. The kiss was confusing, concerning for the man. Yet, he held onto Matt, he kissed him back. His thoughts were scattered, why did Matt want this. Some part of him knew it was out of pity, but it didn’t feel condescending. To some extent Frank was surprised when he peeked at Matt between the incident, he almost felt guilty for looking at him in that state, he looks so vulnerable. He let himself enjoy another moment of the gentle touch, he moved his lips against his, feeling the pure affection in the touch. He pulled away first, but kept his hands on the other’s back. Frank looked at him, he could see Matt was turning a little red. Frank leaned close and touched their foreheads.

“Sorry…”Matt started to say, his hands now placed just below Franks shoulders. He kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure how to deal with this. He felt himself being lifted up and onto the kitchen top, his arms wrapped around Frank’s neck for support. Their faces still too close. He could feel those lips against his own again, they were warm, more attentive. They turned to gentle pecks, lasting a few seconds each. He let himself enjoy every touch he received, reciprocating. Frank’s hands moving over his back and creasing the sides of his torso. He let himself lose his awareness in the unexpectedly soft kisses. His arms loosely anchored around his neck, he felt the pecks reaching down to his chin and to his jaw. The haziness lifted just a little when he felt Frank’s hands reached the end of his shirt, his fingertips skimming over the skin just above his waist.

Matt retracted his arms just a little and cupped Franks face, his thumbs rubbing over his cheeks. He scanned his face, taking in every curve. So many fresh bruises, his cheek swollen and a cut on his forehead yet he didn’t flinch to the touch. Frank started to undo the buttons on Matt’s shirt, he saw a bruise on the blind man’s collarbone. “What happened?” He demanded, a hint of anger in his voice. The rest of the shirt was unbuttoned, several bruises and ancient scars were revealed. Frank was unsure how someone like the man before him could get into any situation resulting in what he saw.

“You’re not the only one with enemies.” A dry laugh escaped Matt, he didn’t see the point in trying to make things more complicated. He didn’t want to explain himself. He wanted to kiss Frank again, he leaned forward to find his lips and Frank moved his head lower to examine the markings. Matt groaned at the rejection, he could feel Frank’s hand touching all over his torso, tracing the cuts with his thumbs. His shirt was fully removed, Franks’s hand were on his back, it wasn’t out of affection but they were searching, searching for more damage. “Frank…” Matt’s voice was low, a small whisper but it got his attention.

“Hmm…” Frank looked up and noticed Matt’s strained expression. He realised he was prying more than he was welcomed to, that never stopped him before. He stood up and lifted Matt’s legs up “Hold on” Matt locked a hold around his torso and neck, Frank’s arms supported him while being carried to the couch. He sat down, pulling Matt’s head closer but in doing so he was pushed to the side and ended up flat on his back. Matt was sitting on his thighs, he look so restless and needy. It wasn’t something Frank would expect from him. He also wasn’t going to let him do whatever he pleased. So he grabbed Matt by his nape and jerked him back, getting himself up and harshly kissing him. A small hum could be heard as Matt indulged in his hold, he seemed aroused by the sudden change of tone.

Frank pushed him back until he was laying on the couch, holding himself over the man. He placed a hand around his neck, Matt was hot to the touch, his blood was rushing right through. The punisher could kill him right now and no one would ever know. Matt started to question if all of this was a plot to get him murdered, but that wasn’t his method, this isn’t how he would kill, he isn’t an assassin. He was distracted from the thoughts soon enough, a peck and his bottom lip being bitten, another bite on his jaw then his neck. He leaned into it, let Frank do as he pleased. He didn’t have to worry about being killed.

He indulged himself, he pulled at Frank’s shirt motioning him to take it off. Frank obliged and dropped his shirt next to the couch, he leaned his lower half down and enveloped himself around Matt. He placed a hand on Matt’s nape and another cupping his cheek as he kissed him. Matt wanted something more, he held onto Frank’s face as their lips touched. He placed his hand behind his head, pulling him closer and pressing his tongue onto his lips. Frank didn’t move for a second which gave Matt time to take it further, at this point Frank wanted the same.

Their tongues mingled, Frank let him have a moment of control. Matt didn’t wait for him to change his mind, he held Frank close and moved his tongue to explore him. Matt could feel how much the other was enjoying this, he wanted to give him more. Matt moved his hand over Frank’s chest, taking note of all the stitches and bruises. He thought of all his struggles but bought himself back to the moment. He wasn’t in control of those situations now. Frank pushed down and pressed his tongue back. Frank pulled away first, parting from his lips. He stayed steady, staring down at him.

“I meant to buy you dinner first” Matt tried, smiling up at the man. There was a laugh, it was genuine, it was Frank’s. It plucked a string for Matt, he had never witnessed him happy to any extent.

“It’s must’ve been one hell of a dinner if you got me this far.”

“I’d love to cook but its not something I pride myself in.” He leaned up to rest his back on the arm of the couch.

Frank rested his head on Matt’s chest closing his eyes, interlocking their fingers and creasing the back of his palm pressing a kiss on his fingers. “I’ll cook for you” he felt comfortable laying there, at peace regardless of his earlier instincts.

Matt ran his fingers through Franks’s hair, creasing his jaw with his thumb. He pressed a kiss into his hair “I’d like that.”

Author note: Stay tuned for more and here’s some bonus fanart by yours truly.

[theguyplayinggalaga]

See You In The Morning? Part 2

Kate Bishop x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 2,670

Warnings: Complicated relationship with Parent, Some very slight angst, Author struggles with Grammer and punctuation.

A/N: I had to make a new blog but I guess I'm just gonna keep writing this thing? Thank you for the likes and reblogs on my other post! Genuinely feeling very happy that other people enjoyed my little story.

The plan had never been to become the assistant head of security for Stark Industries, the plan had been to graduate college and find something actually related to your degree. But neither of those things had happened. After a particularly bad semester of college you'd decided to take a "break" and you'd taken a job working the front security desk at Stark World Headquarters, and it had been the only stable thing about your life after you eventually dropped out of school. And somehow here you were a few years later sitting in your own office looking over blueprints of a building that Stark Industries would be having a benefit gala at. Your boss was out of town so that left you in charge of keeping New York City's wealthiest socialites safe for an evening.

"Y/L/N, Kate Bishop is here to see you." The voice of the secretary over the speaker in your office startled you so much you actually jumped.

You pushed a button and responded "Oh uh, what a surprise! She can come right in." Kate was here to see you? You double checked your phone to make sure she hadn't texted you. Your girlfriend very rarely visited you at work and never unannounced. Not because she wasn't welcome to, but because being the heir of Bishop Security caused some Stark employees to stare a lot. Stark Industries and Bishop Security were competitors so you couldn't blame them for their confusion.

Kate walked through your office door and you quickly got up to greet her. "Hey, everything alright? Not that I'm not happy to see you!" You said as you gave her a tight hug.

Kate pulled away and gave you a small smile before she cupped your face in her hands and pulled you in for a soft kiss which you reciprocated. "Sorry I didn't text you! I kinda broke my phone again…." She said after pulling away.

"Kate! Again! That's like 3 phones in the last month." You said with some exasperation.

"I know! It wasn't my fault this time though! This dude punched me right in the pocket where my phone was."

"Oh, and I expect that's supposed to make me feel better?" You rolled your eyes trying not to think too much about Kate getting punched. You lead Kate over to your desk so you both could sit.

"Really though Kate, is everything alright?" You said with some concern.

Kate groaned as she leaned back in her chair. "Well …. I don't really know how to say this, well I do, I just don't want to… My mom just got released from prison."

You stared at her speechless, trying to decide if she was pranking you or not. You'd never met Kate's mom, only heard stories about her from Kate and watched her get arrested on the news. "What! How? Did you know she was getting released?! I thought she still had a lot of time on her sentence!" You spluttered.

"No! I had no idea!" Kate said she was now playing with the ring on her finger, a nervous habit of hers. "I got a call from her lawyer, before I broke my phone." She added "I guess she took a plea deal? Or something… I don't remember the legal jargon the lawyer was saying I was kinda in shock."

You reached forward grabbing Kate's hand in yours. This was not at all what you had been expecting but you did wish you'd reacted a little more calmly because you could tell this was really upsetting her.

"Okay, well this is incredibly surprising. But how are you feeling now? I know this is all very complicated for you." You said with as calm a tone as you could find.

Kate's eyes began to swim with tears and she stared down at your hand in hers "I…. I don't know exactly. I feel conflicted cause she's my mom and I love her and never wanted her to be in prison. But she also did really terrible things…. I just know I'm scared to see her." She admitted.

"Well you certainly don't owe her anything and you definitely don't have to see her till you're ready, or at all." You said.

Kate nodded her head but didn't say anything. You sat with her in silence for a bit gently stroking the back of her hand. You had worried this day would come, someone as powerful and connected as Elenore Bishop was eventually going to beat the system. You just wished you had the words to make it all okay. But you didn't all you could do was reassure Kate that you were there.

"Kate, I'm here, and I'll continue to be here. I'm sure this is going to be tricky to navigate, but I'll do whatever I can to support you." You said firmly looking Kate in the eye.

Kate wiped a tear from her cheek and gave your hand a tight squeeze. "I'm really glad you're here, just being with you makes me feel just a little less scared." Kate cracked a small smile and rolled her eyes slightly. "Damn Y/L/N, you got me over her being all cheesy!". You both laughed and the mood already felt a bit lighter.

You stood and started to collect your things. "Now, let's go get you a new phone! Then we can take Lucky for a walk and order pizza, yeah?" You asked.

Kate nodded and stood to follow you to the door. "Okay, but I need a smaller phone this time because the last one was too big and very impractical."

_ _ _

It was the day of the Gala and you were there bright and early! You had spent the day walking the building, going over details with your team, making assignments, and assuring a rotating list of people that everything was secure.

You ran home to shower, change into your Stark issued suit and if you were lucky eat something. You had just gotten out of the shower when Kate walked into the bedroom doorway. You were just in your underwear as you examined your suit for any wrinkles.

"I can feel you staring at my ass Bishop." You said.

"Sorry, couldn't help it." Kate responded as she walked further into the room.

"Well look while you can cause once I put these company issued pants on you won't know if I even have an ass anymore." You joked as you started sliding your feet into the pant legs.

You finished putting your pants on and as you started buttoning up your shirt Kate walked up behind you and wrapped her arms around your middle resting her chin on your shoulder.

"Hey" you whispered, turning your head to give hers a little kiss.

"Hey." She whispered back, leaning her weight into you a bit more.

"How's my girl doin? I'm sorry I haven't really talked to you today." You said as you began to do your tie.

Kate stopped you and turned in front of you so she could do up your tie. "You don't have to apologize, I know today has probably been crazy! I'm okay, Lucky and I went on a very long walk through the park and then I talked to Laura on the phone about my mom for a while." Kate finished your tie and stepped back to admire her work.

"What did Laura have to say?" You asked.

"That seeing my mom is on my terms and I don't have to if I don't want to. She also said that it's okay that I feel so conflicted about my mom, she did awful things but she's still my mom." Kate paused, she looked down before continuing "So basically everything you've been telling me but it sounded different coming from her. Not that it doesn't mean anything coming from you! Because you are also right and have good opinions!"

You stopped Kate from continuing into a ramble by taking her hands and stepping closer to her. " Hey, Kate, I know! It's different coming from Laura because she's kinda like a mother to you and I'm definitely not! And I'm not offended by that. I'm glad you got to talk to her, sounds like it was probably nice to talk to someone who isn't me or Yelena about this."

Kate took a shaky breath and nodded. "Yeah, it was nice, I'm glad I called her. She made me feel a bit better about everything."

"Good." You said leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose. "Now I don't mean to ruin the moment but I have to leave in 10 minutes and I can't find my shoes."

Kate laughed, "I think maybe you should consult Lucky about that, he's got a pretty impressive shoe collection in his kennel."

_ _ _

It was only 30 minutes into the gala and you could already tell it was gonna be a night. As the higher profile guests started to arrive you got called outside to break up a fist fight between two of the paparazzi. Internally cursing yourself for putting Mathison as lead for entrance security, you stepped outside to find just one security guard trying desperately to separate the two men.

"Alright! Alright! Gentleman, can we have some decorum?" You said as you stepped between the two men.

You were met with both the men yelling at once.

"He took my spot!"

"That's impossible! I was here first!"

"No! That's not true, ask anyone here!"

You cut them off,"Well, unfortunately for both of you that doesn't matter much because I'm asking you both to leave, and I'm only asking once."

They didn't like that idea so you and two of your guards had to physically remove them. About half way down the entrance steps one of them said something that completely caught you off guard. "Hey wait! I know you, you're Kate Bishop's partner! Wow! I didn't realize you worked for Stark Industries!".

You tried to regain your composure. "Well it's not exactly a secret and Google is free so that's on you."

"Wow! A Bishop and Stark Industries security guard. I'd just love to know how her mom feels about that! But I guess you probably haven't met her yet." Now at the entrance to the property you let go of the guy and removed his media pass.

The guy lifted his camera so he was filming you, because clearly he was that stupid. "I gotta ask though, how are you feeling about Eleanor Bishop's recent release from prison? Any comments? Or a comment about what Kate thinks about it."

You weighed your options. Not responding was the reasonable thing and what you would tell literally anyone else to do. On the other hand this guy had really just gotten under your skin and you were having a really hard time not punching him in the face.

"First, that's head of global security to you. Second, I have no comments and I suggest you get lost before I have you trespassed. Goodnight gentlemen!" You said as you turned and started walking back up the stairs.

And after that the night just got worse. You were getting pulled in a million directions because apparently nobody on staff that night knew how to think for themselves. You had just finished kicking out someone not on the guest list who had snuck in. And now you had no choice but to take Mathison off of the entrance and put a rookie guard in charge. A little distracted by the coms going off in your ear over this controversial move you almost didn't see Kate in the corner of the ballroom. You had told her that she definitely didn't have to come since she hated galas, but Kate had insisted on coming and supporting you. She was wearing her signature black suit, her dark hair in soft curls, and she was leaning against a column just observing the room.

You walked up beside her and turned to look around the room too. "You know I really like it when you wear that suit." You said to her with a cocky grin.

Kate jumped a little, clearly she had been lost in her own thoughts. But she smiled when she saw it was you. "Well I figured at least one of us should be wearing a good suit tonight."

"Hey! It's not that bad is it?!" You said looking down at your suit.

Kate raised an eyebrow as she looked you up and down. "I just don't understand how a company with so much money and power lets you walk around looking like you stole a suit from the clearance section of mens warehouse."

You groaned, "Well perfect, because I'm one hundred percent going to be on the morning news in this thing."

Kate looked at you quizzically. "Do you want to elaborate on that a bit?"

You groaned, why had you brought this up right now? "I kicked a tabloid photographer out earlier, he was talking about your mom and what she would think of the two of us dating. He then started recording me and asked for a comment on her getting released."

Kate's eyes widened and she took a step closer to you. "Y/N what did you say?"

"Nothing bad! At least I think. I just told him I didn't have a comment and that I was going to have him tresspaced if he didn't leave." You said.

Kate signed in what you assumed was relief. "Yeah no, you probably handle that correctly. But it's definitely gonna be on some news outlets. Do you think my mom knows about us?" She asked timidly.

"Oh, one hundred percent she knows!" You said. There was no way that Elenore didn't know about the two of you and also no way she didn't also know more about you than you'd probably like her to at this point.

Kate groaned and buried her face in your shoulder. You and Kate had talked a couple of times about Kate's mom and how she would feel about your relationship. Kate had no idea how her mom was going to react to it, you definitely weren't what Elenore Bishop had in mind for a good partner for her daughter. And while her opinion didn't matter to either of you, the potential comments she might make or her trying to discourage Kate from dating you were very real possibilities. You were brought back to reality and the fact that you were very much at work by the voice of the rookie at the entrance in your ear piece.

"Y/L/N we have a situation at the entrance."

You dropped your head in defeat and spoke into your com. "Another one? Can I get some clarification?"

"Uhh yeah, Elenore Bishop is here. She's not on the list but I thought you might want to handle this one."

Your eyes widened. Yeah, Elenore Bishop wasn't on the list because she had up until very recently been unavailable. You turned to Kate not sure how to break this to her.

"Kate, I promise you I had no idea she was coming, but your mom is here."

Kate looked at you with panic in her eyes "She's here? Like is she in the building? Was she invited?"

You shouldn't have because you were working, but out of instinct you grabbed Kate's hand. "She wasn't on the list, but we are probably going to have to let her in. I can get you out of here without her seeing you. But I gotta go find Pepper and handle this. I'm gonna have Patrick come find you, he can help you out. You don't have to go, but I've got you covered if you do."

Kate nodded and it absolutely broke you that you had to just leave her like that but you also couldn't leave Elenore Bishop just chillin on the steps of the entrance.

End Part 2

[hogarthwrites]

one thing leads to another chapter 5

pairing: samuel drake/femme!reader (m/f)

genre: romance, smut, slow burn

words: 1147

summary:

Sam deals with his feelings for you.

chapters: 1 2 3 4

Sam couldn’t get you out of his mind. He thought about you the moment he woke up, and he always loved being around you. He couldn’t figure out if the feelings started the moment you smiled at him at the bar or when you introduced yourself to him at the office.

He looked at you from across the room, wondering what you were about to tell him before Nathan and Elena rang the doorbell. Just like a flood, guests started pouring in and he couldn’t get another moment alone with you. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched you laugh. His gaze lingered on your lips. Oh, how he wanted to kiss them and to touch the hair that curled at the nape of your neck. He couldn’t help but let his gaze roam to your chest, thinking about that moment at the bar.

No, he scolded himself as he turned his attention to the diminishing snacks on the table. I gotta control myself. Still, he took another look at you, his heart leaping as you caught his eyes.

You smiled at Sam, raising your bottle of beer at him. 

Happy birthday, you mouthed.

Thanks, he mouthed back, giving you a small smile and nodding.

A part of you was conflicted that you didn’t get to tell him how you felt, but you figured it was probably for the best. After all, didn’t you just see him with a very pregnant woman the other day?

She’s not here, though, you thought to yourself. Maybe they’re not together. Maybe it’s a secret.

Pregnant woman aside, he was your boss. Still, it didn’t stop you from fantasising about kissing him, to have his strong arms hold you. You wondered how it would feel to be enveloped in his embrace, to have his scent fill you as he made you his.

“You okay?” Elena snapped her fingers in front of Sam’s face.

“Huh?” Sam blinked as he turned to his sister in law. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I’ve been trying to ask you where Nate is,” she turned to your direction. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Sam walked towards the coffee table and picked up a bowl of chips. “You want one?”

Elena shook her head. “Have you seen Nate? My legs are killing me.”

He glanced down at her swollen belly, just like Crystal’s. “Grab a seat. I think he went to the bathroom.”

It wasn’t a lie. At that very moment, Nathan Drake was in the upstairs bathroom battling a bad burrito he had eaten earlier that day.

Sam helped her sit down on the sofa, sitting next to her as he ate a few chips.

“How far along are you again?” He asked.

“Six months,” she instinctively put a hand on her stomach. 

“Excited?”

Elena nodded. “You think you’d ever want to settle down someday, Samuel Drake?”

Sam shrugged and glanced at you again. Maybe.

“Who is that?” Elena followed his gaze and smiled. “Another secret girlfriend?”

“Another?” He raised an eyebrow. “And no. She’s our new researcher.”

“Oh,” she nodded and looked the other way. “You like her.”

“I don’t.”

“I see the way you look at her.”

Sam sighed. “Is it obvious?”

Elena nodded again. 

“You think she knows?”

This time, she shrugged. “You should ask her out.”

“I can’t. I’m technically her boss.”

“That never stopped you before,” she let out a laugh. “Remember Linda?”

“Doesn’t count. She was an associate.”

“If you say so.”

“Anyway, I may have made a bet with a friend that if I can keep it in my pants, she’ll owe me $500.”

“Wow,” this time it was Elena who raised an eyebrow at him. “Good luck with that.”

“You have no faith in me.”

“Nope,” she laughed.

It was then Nate tapped Elena’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She worriedly turned to him.

Nate nodded. 

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“Burrito,” Nate replied. “What have you guys been talking about?”

“Sam’s unobtainable love interest,” Elena took his hand as he sat next to her on the other side of the sofa.

“Another one?” 

“What do you mean ‘another one’?” Sam pouted. “Are you sure you’re okay, little brother?”

Nate nodded, but at that moment, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. “Crap.”

“I think we’re going to retire for the night,” Elena stood up with help from both brothers. “Thanks for letting us use the guest room.”

“Of course,” Sam nodded. “I’ve got some Gatorade in the fridge if you need any, Nathan.”

“Thanks,” Nate muttered and gave Sam a hug. “Happy birthday, Sam. See you in the morning.”

“Hope you survive.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Sam looked for you again, and found you alone in the kitchen with a glass of water.

“Hi,” you smiled up at him.

“Hi,” he replied as he walked towards you.

There was a silence between the two of you, the chatter from the dying party in the living room and the music filling the room. You tapped the sides of the glass you were holding, thinking of what to say.

“Thanks again for the present, by the way,” Sam pulled out the joke book from his back pocket. “You’re sweet.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” you nodded. 

“You wanted to tell me something earlier?”

“Oh,” you placed the glass on the counter. “It’s nothing too important, just…”

You turned to look at Sam, feeling a bit breathless as you looked into his eyes. 

“Just…” you felt him move closer.

“Just?” Sam’s voice was soft.

“Just…” You looked at his lips, wanting to kiss him badly at that moment. “I just wanted to say thanks for keeping me company after hours.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled. “I love talking to you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. Suddenly you were a little too close to him, you could almost feel the heat radiating off his body, and you wanted him.

Without thinking, you had inched closer until your lips were on Sam’s, every alarm in your head ringing.

Oh god, what am I doing?

It was then you felt his arms wrap around your waist as he pulled you in closer and returned your kiss. You tasted the beer and the nicotine on his lips, your hand on his neck as he pressed you against the fridge. His lips moved down to your neck.

All your fantasies about Sam were coming true, and you gave a soft moan at the thought of him touching you more.

But then, you thought about the pregnant lady and you thought about your job.

“Sam,” you pulled away slightly.

“What?” He asked breathlessly.

“We can’t…”

He placed his forehead on yours, panting.

You pulled away, wiping your mouth. “We can’t… I’m sorry.”

Sam just stood there, speechless, as you backed away.

“Wait,” he said quietly.

“I have to go,” you said. “I’m sorry. Happy birthday.”

[absolutebl]

am i losing it or is "naked dining" genuinely good? like, i thought it would be a silly show about, well, dining in the nude but we actually learn a bit about different cuisines. plus, mahiro keeps hitting us with his (what's the opposite of xenophobic?) passion for providing produce to non-japanese citizens, which seems so special to me; how often do bls (japanese or otherwise) mention immigrants and their struggles in these homogeneous societies? yes, the "struggle" here is vegetable-related, which sounds silly (like the premise and everything else about the show) but i'll take it!!!! also, i am amazed how in episode 6 alone, they cleared up their background story, ichijo told mahiro about the dream where he kissed him (yea he called it "weird" and i hated that BUT he told him right away instead of being awkward for 3 episodes!!) AND mahiro came clean about having kissed him for real! do we hate the sleeping beauty trope kiss? yes we do. but i love that he admitted to it in the very next episode. AND that whole monologue of ichijo saying he wants to support mahiro in opening a restaurant and he wants to cook and eat with him forever and he feels so relieved and comfortable around him (which makes the whole naked eating thing obsolete) was so sincere, i am a whole clown because i literally shed a tear, like that's how emotionally overwhelmed i was with that whole scene. of course, then the heteronormativity kicks back in and he starts blabbing about wives and sons but 9/10 shows would've had the other character chuckle awkwardly and nod and have an internal crisis but mahiro is just like "yea no, i'm not like that" and idk i am losing it, maybe it's because my expectations were so low but this show positively surprised me for real! (you would think i would spend the morning of my birthday NOT writing a billion words about naked dining but since my birthday is cancelled this year, i am sitting home alone with my freshly torn ligaments, catching up on my shows, so here we are)

Naked Dining (Zenra Meshi) is messing with my damn head

or messing with all of us intentionally?

I AM SO CONFLICTED ABOUT THIS SHOW

I mean I think all your thoughts are totally valid but I still can't get into it. And is that my fault or its? and why does it keep challenging me so much? I *believe* the naked dining-ness is being used as an allegory for repressed homosexuality and I find that super weird but also this is Japan so what do I expect OF COURSE they are going to turn closeted gayness into a kind of kink but also WHAT? WHYYYYY? But also: aw, it's kinda cute and the the leads are sort of charming and it IS all about food but ALSO... is mahiro's passion for pressing non-Japanese food ALSO an allegory for coming out? like he wants to be openly gay, or he kind of is, but also he's doing this because he can't be openly with the person he loves, like "here YOU have some homosexual peanut sauce numnums, and YOU have some homosexual rutabaga numnums" and "I will basically be your husband-in-the-kitchen-cooking for your boss and everyone ELSE is figuring this out and YOU have some homosexual numnums" AND

I mean to say...

WHAT?

Or am I trying to elevate this show but really it's just super SILLY?

but then AGAIN why 12 episodes? 12

i mean to say

12

from japan?

about a dude who eats naked as stress relief?

i just....

GAH

this whole show is an epic:

oh japan, must you?

moment

[asirensrage]

Request please

Obsession Prompts:"We're meant to be. You'll see."

Inexperienced Smut Prompts:“Show me how you do it when you touch yourself.”

Dwayne Lost Boys

This took me a bit but I like how it turned out. I think you will too. (Also, I almost sent part of this to a WORK group chat. Thank god I caught myself in time. I would have died.)

Rating: Mature at least. Warnings: vampirism. sex. biting.

She’s not sure how she got here. The events leading to this moment are a blur of laughter, music, and the reveal of the stare she’s felt watching her. She’s felt the solid muscle under her fingers and the warm engine between her legs before she finds herself like this. With this man hovering over her with ease. 

“No more waiting,” he says as he kisses her. His dark hair falls around their faces like a curtain, hiding them from the other voices she can hear in the distance. 

Waiting for what? She wants to ask. She hasn’t been waiting. She was…she had been with friends. His kiss tastes like cooper, no matter how good it feels, and she turns her head away first. He doesn’t protest. Before she can even think, she’s somehow out of her clothes and he’s looking at her as though he’s never seen anything like it before. 

She’s never done this before. She doesn’t even really know how they got here, where she’s bare before him and he’s telling her that everything’s okay. There’s something about the way he says it that makes her believe him, even if she doesn’t know him.

He discards his jacket, leaving his chest bare before he sits back on his heels and tells her that he’ll take care of her. They’re promised, after all. A future happiness prophesied that he didn’t believe until he saw her. She doesn’t understand but he doesn’t linger on the revelation. “Show me how you do it when you touch yourself. Show me what you like.” There’s a demand there, under his words, and she takes a deep breath before letting herself fall under his gaze. 

The sheets under her scratch at her skin. Each movement brings a waft of something that smells like dust, mildew and mothballs. Still, she does as he asks. Each caress feels awkward as he watches and she closes her eyes to try to escape it. She can still feel him though. Even if he’s somehow incredibly silent, the weight of him dips the bed by her feet. 

Her hands trail lightly over her skin before she cups one of her breasts and tweaks at the nipple. She feels the bed shift but he still doesn’t touch her. She moves her other hand between her legs. Any time she’s touched herself it’s been more of a pursuit of a goal that she’s never fully reached. 

She hears him laugh and it’s enough to make her pull her hands back, regretting her attempts. He’s on her before she can blink, taking the hand that was between her legs and lifting it to his mouth. Her eyes shoot open and meet his. There’s something in his gaze that feels like a threat even as he licks her clean. 

He kisses her again and the taste of her is mixed with the copper that seems to cling to him. He touches her with a startingly familiarity and she shivers at the chill of his skin against hers. He nips at her skin, taking his time to leave his mark with his lips and teeth until she’s no longer sure if he leaves anything untouched.

Her head falls back against the old pillow and the dust that rises is ignored as she’s lost in the way he touches her. It’s skillful and just hard enough that she can’t ignore him. She’s never felt like this. Not when she’s on her own. 

It’s not long before her legs are wrapped around his waist and he moves with purpose. His nails scratch down her back and hip as he holds her. Any pain at the intrusion fades as he kisses her, knowing exactly how to bring her to the edge she’s often found herself at. It feels like he shoves her off of it and she screams when he bites at her neck in response. He breaks skin and her head sways with the conflicting feelings he’s put her through. When he pulls back, she can barely flinch at the strangeness of his face and the blood around his mouth. Her vision spots and for a moment she thinks she’s imagined it because he’s back to looking at her like he did before. The blood is still there though. 

“What–” she swallows tightly, unable to shove him away. “What’d you do?”

He grins, somehow looking sharper than before. “We’re meant to be. You’ll see.” He kisses her again and the world goes black. 

Obsession Prompts Inexperienced Smut Prompts ✨

and because I think you'll be interested... lost boys tag: @phantomenby @avengers-fixation @artaxerxesthegreat @henhouse-horrors @charlizekkelly @makepastanotwar13

[couragehopelovefaith]

I posted 6,242 times in 2022

That's 896 more posts than 2021!

221 posts created (4%)

6,021 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sobernatural

@buglovescas

@dwcoded

@emeraldcas

@deanshauntedmidnights

I tagged 5,141 of my posts in 2022

Only 18% of my posts had no tags

#supernatural - 3,446 posts

#destiel - 2,716 posts

#deancas - 2,712 posts

#dean winchester - 587 posts

#castiel - 288 posts

#fate the winx saga - 260 posts

#shadowhunters - 177 posts

#tvd - 170 posts

#ftws - 143 posts

#teen wolf - 134 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#the moment when you're supposed to be the responsible employer and see something like this and try to hold back screaming and crying

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Riven and Musa | Cake By The Ocean (S2) (SPOILERS ABOUT SEASON 2) Lilac Edits was really fast with this wonderful Rivusa-edit. Great job! *returns to rewatch it multiple times*

60 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

#4

When you have rewatched Merlin six or seven times but want to go through all that emotional rollercoaster to introduce it to your friend, are nervous about her reactions...and these are her comments during episode two: 

“It seems like the show is developing the thing between Morgana and Arthur, but I would much rather want to see Morgana with Gwen and Merlin with Arthur. There is so much chemistry there already.”

“Gwen and Morgana have such bi-energy!”

[I made a mistake of accidentally telling her that Morgana is going to turn “evil” at some point, and now she has wild speculations of what would lead such a just cinnamon roll into that...and I’m sitting there like I’m constipated to avoid spoiling anything.]

[when Merlin and Arthur are fighting] “Oh, come on, just kiss and make up already!”

Also, she is such a ray of sunshine every time Kilgharrah appears and she has already so many crossover-ideas. 

And let me tell you, the big mix of relief, nostalgic pain and amusement that I felt was like no other. 

My inner voice: “Oh, honey, you’ve got a big storm coming!”

82 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

#3

I’m all too used to having “Yes, they are finally happy! Wait... Oh no, they are too happy right now... something bad is gonna happen any minute!”-moments, but it still sucks every time. 

134 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

#2

The last year and a half has been challenging enough already, and now Merlin is leaving Netflix too? Seriously? Dammit and other curses. 

158 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

My opinions about “Fate the Winx Saga” season 2 (MANY SPOILERS!)

If you haven’t seen it yet and want to experience it fully by yourselves, don’t read any further!

- Without any doubt, this season is even better than the first one. Such an emotional rollercoaster with many surprises and great villains. I loved all of the old and new characters and how these episodes deepened their bonds. It took some time for me to get used to the new actors of Rosalind and Ben - the original ones will always have a special place in my heart, but they did a good job with recasting, I think. 

- I have loved Abigail as Bloom since the first episode, but I’m glad she got so many opportunities to shine here.

- I didn’t especially like Skloom in the original animation, but they have stolen my heart in Fate, specifically during this season (episodes two and seven, my beloved). 

- I was both anxious and excited about seeing Flora, but I was pleasantly surprised. She is a badass, fits into group so well, and I like how her and Terra got closer and kind of sorted out their disagreements. 

- Everyone’s storylines and struggles were good and relatable (especially Bloom’s, Sky’s and Musa’s), but Terra’s took the first place for me for multiple reasons. 

- Stella’s and Riven’s character-developments are definitely also worth mentioning.

- My emotions about Dane have been conflicted this season, but I’m happy where we left with him, that the situation with Riven and him seems to be somewhat okay now and he has a chance to real happiness.

- I love Sam as a character, feel really bad for him and want him to find happiness, but Samusa never really was “it” for me (and it’s not just because I have had a soft spot for Rivusa since my childhood).

- When it comes to Rivusa, I really enjoyed their scenes together and can’t wait to see more of them. 

- Musa is still my favorite Winx altogether, even though I adore all of them.

- Aisha deserves everything beautiful and good in this world, dammit!

- I’m thrilled how much Silva-content we got this season. 

- Transformations and magic in general were done great.

- A good nod to Trix, I must say.

- That ending scene got me so emotional it was almost ridiculous. 

Aaand the downsides...

- Farah will always be the headmistress of Alfea to me and many, many others. The scenes we got with her, and her one last valuable lesson, were touching and I’m thankful for them, but she deserved so much more. There was an amazing build up of Golden Trio in season 1, and it was all thrown to waste. My Silrah-heart had so much hope and now it’s broken. And yes... I cried my eyes out. But when it’s all said and done... I just wanna thank Eve Best for portraying Farah so marvelously (and read loads of Silrah/Golden Trio-fanfics).

- Even though Andreas was very... questionable, I’m sad that there were so few scenes between him, Sky and Silva. 

- Stellatrix belongs to my “had so much hope”-department and well ... </3 

Such a great season, and a heartbreaking cliffhanger. We gotta get season 3, as soon as possible.

268 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[catzlife]

02.23.03

Edwin had been dropping hints about his fun hipster secret friends, which had been annoying Domingo and me. Finally, he introduced me to them. We hung out one night at an 80's electroclash party.

The night started with neon lights and loud music, a haze of cigarette smoke in the air. Edwin grabbed a coke, and me a cocktail, and we dove into the crowd. I met Larry and Lisa, a brother-sister duo. Lisa, cool and flirty, danced close. Her laughter was infectious, and there was definitely a spark, though it didn't go far.

As I moved through the crowd, I met Samantha—cute, naive, and kind of goofy. She had this carefree vibe that drew me in. She told me about her failed attempt at sewing a vintage dress, and we laughed together, her stories full of warmth and charm. Dancing with her was pure fun, with ridiculous moves that made us both laugh uncontrollably.

At one point, I noticed Edwin watching us, a hint of jealousy in his eyes. I made sure to include him in our conversation, talking about the music and how great the party was. He seemed to relax a bit, and I felt better about it.

Later, Lisa and I found a quiet corner. She shared stories about her wildest nights out, her eyes sparkling with mischief. We danced some more, and I felt a connection, but it was Samantha who had my attention most of the night.

When the party was winding down, Samantha and I exchanged numbers. She wrote hers on a napkin with a little heart next to it. We ended up sitting on a couch, talking about everything from our favorite movies to the most embarrassing moments of our lives. Her laughter was like a melody I couldn’t get out of my head.

Eventually, Edwin and I left. The ride home was a mix of deep conversation and shared memories. He dropped me off, and I went to bed with a smile, thinking about the night and the new connections I had made. The possibilities felt endless, and I couldn't wait to see where things would go from here.

—

Just last week Katie called me. Finally, a real conversation after what felt like ages. She told me she had been good but busy, seeing other people. That stung a bit, but I tried to keep my cool. I pushed for a meetup, but she kept dodging it, always with some excuse.

Then, out of the blue, she invited me to see The Rules of Attraction. She said she thought the lead actress was hot, teasing me in that way she does. It felt like she enjoyed having me desperate for her, but I could tell she liked me in her own way. Even if she somehow thinks I don’t measure up, there's definitely something there. Who knows where this will lead?

—-

It was a cold night, and Katie showed up in a cozy sweater, looking effortlessly beautiful. She was already a bit tipsy when she arrived, and her antics at the theater were both hilarious and embarrassing. She laughed loudly at inappropriate moments, tried to start a sing-along during a quiet scene, and stumbled into a couple of seats.

We grabbed our seats and she nestled close to me, still giggling. The movie was intense and dark, but she made it feel like a comedy with her running commentary. I couldn’t help but laugh with her, despite the disapproving looks from other moviegoers.

After the movie, we stepped outside. The cold air hit us, and she pulled me in for a kiss, her lips warm against mine. It was passionate, but then she pulled back, looking conflicted. She told me she couldn’t have sex with me because she might love someone else. My heart sank. I felt crushed, but tried to hide my disappointment. She noticed and tried to console me, saying she still cared about me.

Her mood shifted, and she seemed genuinely upset. We decided to go for a drive to clear our heads. We ended up buying whiskey and drinking it by the bay. The cool Florida air and the sound of the waves made the moment feel surreal. I felt weird and lost, unsure of where we stood.

We went back to my place, and she spent the night in my bed. We kissed, but there was no sex. But i kept grabbing her boobs. She kept asking me to grab her tits and before i knew it we were dry humping. My dick came out eventually and I rubbed it between her boobs and she squeezed them together. “Cum on my sweater” and i came.

She seemed to feel bad about it the next day. We smoked some pot she had in her purse, the familiar scent mingling with the morning air, and we decided to take a walk around the neighborhood. The streets were quiet, the world still waking up. As we wandered, talking about everything and nothing, I couldn't help but feel a mix of peace and deep sadness, knowing this was our last walk together. When we finally said our goodbyes, I felt a loss, it ached long after she was gone. That morning, that walk, would stay with me, a beautiful memory tinged with the sadness of what could have been.

Katie Gomez occupies a space in my mind that no one else can fill. I’m genuinely sad it might be over. With Katie, everything felt more real, more intense. I can't help but compare her to Leti and Gabbie, both of whom were even more short-lived relationships. Leti was a whirlwind romance that burned out quickly, and Gabbie felt more like a fleeting fantasy than reality. With Katie, there was depth and promise that the others lacked. Now, I find myself questioning if there's something wrong with me, if I'm somehow sabotaging these connections. Maybe I’m too intense, too eager, or just not enough. The thought that I might never find a lasting relationship haunts me. Katie’s rejection stings more because she seemed like the real thing, and losing that feels like losing a piece of myself.

The pressure of university isn't helping. I’m doing well, but it’s taking everything I’ve got. The workload is intense, and the expectations are high. I’m feeling the weight of it all, especially with doubts creeping in about grad school. Sometimes, it feels like a mountain I’m not sure I can climb.

In these moments of stress, I find myself daydreaming about finding a soulmate. Someone who can make everything feel worthwhile. I hoped Katie could be that person. But then I start trying to talk myself out of it, thinking maybe I'm just setting myself up for disappointment.

I had a long phone call with my old friend Ari the other night. She’s always been the no-nonsense type, and she gave me some wise advice. She told me to stop overthinking and just be myself. She reminded me that I deserve someone who wants to be with me as much as I want to be with them. Her words hit home, making me realize I might be putting too much pressure on myself and on Katie.

I really want someone to finally commit to me, to know what it's like to have that solid bond. It feels weird that I’ve gone so long without finding it. I envy my friends’ relationships: Charley and Domingo, Sonny and Cruise, and even Ari and her partner. They have what I dream of. Especially Sonny and Cruise, my dream couple—I have this crush on Sonny. Seeing them happy together makes me long for the same. Why can’t I find that? It gnaws at me, this longing for something real, something lasting.

I’m just hoping one day, someone sees me as enough.

[wolves-in-the-world]

rolling up my sleeves to have thoughts about Friends and Family (2001) in no particular order. people who intend to watch (see my previous post) and want to avoid spoilers, please scroll on and filter the tag <3

— this film is batshit, and yes, that's affectionate

— Jenny's friendship with the boys is WONDERFUL (walking down the street three abreast holding hands oh my gosh*) and I have so much faith in her pulling the strings in the family business. like everything that went right was influenced by her except Damon doing the thing he did.

— *something about that and how the dancers at the club were friendly and playful with Stephen and Danny, it's just really nice that they're scary criminal types and the women in their life feel safe around 'em yes hush I have a type. (it implies good things about the business too, if we accept the cheerful cheesy rom-com-genre-ness of it. and the comment about not wanting to get into the business of drugs.)

— there are no fics for this on ao3?? listen I don't even know where a person would start with that but. that's a tragedy.

…okay admittedly I know where a person might start. the tenderness between those two lends itself SO well to like, a loving undressing scene where they're casually disarming each other and chatting along the way. (it could even be chatting about the job, up until they're far enough along to turn their minds fully to other matters.)

— so I'm kinda bad at queerness (that's a disclaimer) and still kinda figuring out what to think about the Gay Lessons section and all the joyous campness that resulted BUT it makes so much more sense in context (the comment about internalised homophobia) now I've watched the film with more than half my brain engaged. the boys' growing discomfort with everything, their unkindness to Patrizzi's sons about their passions because, well, clothing and food just aren't appropriate interests under toxic masculinity.

it's honestly startling to see something like this acknowledged by the story as gently as it was and I wonder if that (plus the joyous campness) is why it was reviewed so poorly at first. I kinda just want to turn it over thoughtfully in my head for ages and this film is two dang decades old.

[mrpenguinpants]

Xiao: Fainting HCS

FUCK. I FORGOT TO POST THIS EARLIER. AHHHH. I HAVE WORK IN LIKE 2 MINUTES SO I’LL BE BACK TO REPLY TO EVERYONE. 

Hey anon! So sorry it took me forever to finish writing this but good luck if you’re planning on pulling Xiao. I really wanted to finish writing this fic as an offering to the gacha gods that c1 xiao wants to bless me (even tho that’s not gonna happen). But good luck to everyone rolling today^^.

Disclaimer: I have not watch anything about Xiao because my hype can only take so much. This was written before 1.3. So if I get anything wrong or I’m missing something. That’s why.

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Can I just say how far Xiao has come in my writing since the first part of the semi series? Sniff, feel like we’re making character development for a character that’s not even out yet. I can’t wait for mihoyo to take my HCS and rip them apart.

Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ String Of Fate (Soulmate) ]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

​  @hanniejji​@mikeysbike​​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @sunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​ @nonniechan​​ @snowy224 @mayumintsu​ @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki​ @legionqueensav​ @eva-0403 @youaskedfurret​ 

Xiao: Fainting HCS

Instant panic mode engaged. If you’ve ever doubted his adepti power of swiftness you’re about to be mistaken. He’s noticed that you seem a bit out of it but brushed it off as you being tired from your recent journey. If there was anything bothering you, you would tell him. But as he turned around to greet you back, it seems like time is slowing down for him. He sees how your eyes glazed over and become unfocused. The muscles in your body snap and you drop to the ground. He can feel his blood run cold as past memories that have been waiting to jump at him suddenly claw at him but he doesn’t even register them. He’s already running towards you.

He’s already caught you in his arms before you can even meet the wooden floor. His brain is racing as he quickly checks your pulse to make sure you didn’t suffer from a heart attack or a curse. He makes a quick search over your body to check for any injuries, he can already feel the red hot iron of anger fill his system at the thought of someone trying to take advantage of you or threaten you. He’s usually logical in these types of situations, even the death of Rex Lapis didn’t shock him this much, but he’s been battling his conflicting feelings ever since he met you. But now that he’s finally accepted you and himself, he wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to you. His mind flashes to Guizhong before he shakes away the thought.

It doesn’t occur to him that you might be sick as he tries to shake you awake. Whatever teachings Guizhong and Morax have taught him fly out the window as he holds you so close to his chest, he’s pretty sure his grip on you is bruising. He knew mortal souls weren’t as strong as adepti and staying around one might cause sickness or even worse- death. Was this his fault? He can feel the drop in his stomach as he tries to reign in his emotions and powers, not here.

Verr almost screams when Xiao breaks the wooden ceilings and lands in front of her. She’s scared that there was a monster outbreak or something was wrong with Xiao before she notices your passed out form in his arms. As much as she likes to joke around and thinks your relationship with Xiao is cute, she knows that if anything came to seriously harm you she wouldn’t able to calm Xiao before he goes on a rampage. You mean so much to him and he hasn’t opened his heart to anyone except you.

She can tell he’s nearly past his breaking point as he looks at her with dilated eyes as he asks, no commands, her to help you. It’s such whiplash to her. Xiao’s always been polite and reserved that she almost forgets he used to be a demon slaying Yaksha, but this isn’t the time for her to worry about that. She quickly leads him to the backroom since there’s no way Xiao wouldn’t bite any hand that comes near you. Bless Verr’s heart since this isn’t the first time she’s had to handle Xiao’s outbreaks that she manages to save face and contact a doctor that was staying at the inn to look at you. She does feel a bit bad for the doctor who looks like he’s about to piss himself in fear as Xiao growls and watches the doctors every move with piercing yellow eyes.

Xiao is still wary when the doctor and Verr try to calm him down and examine you more closely, always flinching back whenever their hands get too close to you, letting out a dangerous hiss whenever there’s the slightest twitch of discomfort in your face when the doctor feels your heated forehead. As soon as the doctor concludes that you’ve been sick for the past few days and your body just needs to heal itself and recharge, the tension on Xiao’s shoulder loosens and the suffocating aura that’s been filling the room slowly filters out. Verr can’t help but sigh in relief but can’t bring herself to scold Xiao for breaking the inns roof as she watches him look over your form with worried eyes as he softly nudges your cheek. He’s still holding you but his grip has loosen slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. He breathes a sigh of relief as he rubs small circles in your hand. Xiao’s never been the most affectionate or shown to be the most caring but you’ve seriously scared him. She quietly leaves him be and closes the door as she begins to prepare to fix the damages.

Xiao never leaves your side as he waits for you to wake up. He can’t help but berate himself for not confronting you. The doctor said you would be fine but he can’t but imagine your body falling in a more violent scene. He quickly shakes those thoughts away as he paces around the room, sits besides you, then goes back to pacing. Usually he would go on a walk or beat his aggression out but he doesn’t want to leave you alone should you awake early.

Xiao doesn’t ramble about his day while you’re asleep, instead he just observes your features and the small movements you make to remind him that you’re okay. How your chest moves up and down as you breath or how your eyes sometimes scrunch in sleep. You’ve made him almost trip when you did it the first time since he thought you were waking up. He can’t help but think back to his fellow Yaksha’s and what they would say if they saw the way he was acting now.

Since his panic attack has mostly subsided he’s found himself growing more curious. He’s still worried about you but he’s managed to reason with himself that you’re okay, just sick which he’s going to scold you a bit for when you awake, so he softly brushes his fingers across your face. Before snatching his hand away in embarrassment. What the hell is he doing? Guizhong would slap him sideways if she saw him now. He huffs at himself as he deflates a little and rests his head on the bed beside your head. He’s patient. He will wait when your ready to wake up.

When you suddenly gain consciousness, it feels as if the entire world is weighing you down. You slowly blink open your eyes to see a worried Xiao hovering over you, his hands awkwardly in the air since he’s not sure if it’s okay to touch you.

“How are you feeling?” Xiao asks as his eyes dart all over the place before resting on your face. You’re still a bit out of it but you can tell he must have been really worried. You try to give him a small smile but with how scuffy you feel you can bet it’s not a pretty picture.

“Like I got slammed with one of Zhongli’s meteors,” you tried to laughed before coughing as Xiao quickly pressed a cup of water to your lips. Slowly letting you drink and calm down. 

“If you have time to make jokes then you’re alright” Xiao sighs before his features change slightly. His eyes glaze over in concern as a small frown appears. He really does look like a kicked kitten as he slumps over as the stress finally lifts as he feels your hand softly run through his hair.

“Sorry,” you say, he must have been so stressed out while you were passed out for him to look so exhausted. He simply nudges into your hand before turning his face to kiss your palm,

“There’s no need for apologies. I’m...just glad you’re okay,” Xiao mumbles before he’s back to pressing his head into your stomach. You can’t help but smile delicately as you reach over and bring Xiao up with you until he’s lying over you as you hug him gently. There’s a bit of shuffling before you’re able to spoon him as he let’s himself relax after the two day panic attack he just went through.

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When you’ve fully recovered Xiao seems to hover around you a bit more. Well not a bit, a lot more, but no one has the heart to tell him that. It’s actually kind of adorable seeing the aloof and reserved adepti seem to follow you around like a loss duckling. Making sure you’re okay and you’re not overworking yourself. He still keeps his tough demeanor but you seriously gave him a big scare.

When Zhongli and Childe come over for their weekly visits of tea, they were aware that Xiao had locked himself in a room to watch over you and anyone that even stepped near the door would be skewered with a spear - and Verr would make them pay for the damages (Zhongli) and whatever consequences Xiao saw fit (Childe) - but they are happy to see you’re okay. You all fall back into your usual rhythm of conversation or Childe trying to get a rise out of Xiao while you and Zhongli talk about how lovely the weather’s been.

Zhongli let’s you in on some details that Xiao or Verr never mentioned while Childe and Xiao are fighting about who knows what. How Xiao wouldn’t leave your side or that he resembled a kicked kitten as he nudged your hand when he thought no one was looking. He offers you some medicine herbs to help with exhaustion and to take care of yourself. Likewise, to give Xiao some pain medication on his behalf. You’re one of the few good things in Xiao’s life and he doesn’t want anything bad happening to you.

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Hmm. I didn’t mean to but I totally believe in the dad zhongli train and I think Zhongli basically just gave you his blessing? Maybe I’m thinking too hard on this haha.

Maybe this is better? Trying to figure out writing styles are hard. Either way, I’m never gonna end up kicking my paragraph HCS habit haha. If you couldn’t tell, I really like feral protective but lowkey vulnerable types (coughrazorcough). Xiao is so OOC at this point I don’t even know how to fix it. Please come home Xiao. 

(Edit: FUCK YEAH HE CAME HOME WITH DILUC. WE 90ED THIS BITCH AND IM ABOUT TO MAX HIS TALENTS. ILL SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL (since people have been asking) WHEN I GET BACK FROM WORK)

[bottoms-movie]

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS

so a lot of people seemed interested this so here it is! if ya’ll like this, i can make more parts! this is split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. all fics are on ao3. all of the fics are complete. some fics do include smut, but i included the ratings, so make sure to check for that based on preferences!

also, feel free to send me asks on your thoughts on any fics or if you’re interested in another sambucky fic rec post!

BASED ON TFATWS

Fill the Hole in my Heart | Not Rated | 4,848 words

Bucky dives into the world of online dating. The girls are nice, but there seems to be something missing. When he goes to Louisiana to meet Sam and his family, he realizes what that something was.

Skip, Reverse | Explicit | 7,945 words

Sam stood in the middle of their local Target with a throw pillow in each hand. The one in his left hand was butter-soft and matched the drapes in the living room, but Bucky had walked by five seconds ago and declared the one on the right “absolutely fucking hideous,” and so now Sam kind of wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

Sometimes romance is just bickering with your superhero partner/roommate at several different Target locations.

just won’t do right | General | 7,524 words

Sam's eyebrows go up, impressed, and he reaches over to squeeze Torres' shoulder, "This is amazing, kid. Thanks, really."

Bucky sits and watches in utter horror as the pink darkens on Torres' cheeks.

Oh, he realizes. Oh. Fuck.

body language will do the trick | Explicit | 12,598 words

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

checklist | General | 4,716 words

Bucky Barnes keeps a mental checklist of things he knows to be true at any given moment. Sometimes the checklist changes, because he's learned something else about himself. It changes, for example, when he starts realizing that maybe he would like to kiss Sam Wilson. Maybe.

best laid plans | 3 parts | 26,808 words

part 1: baby you’re the wave and I’m ready for the crash | Explicit | 6,616 words

Nah, my plan’s better,” Sam declares, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what plan? Was that a plan? It didn’t sound like a plan to me, it sounded like a vague intention,” says Bucky, still scowling, and Sam grins.

“We’re winging it, the plan is a work in progress! Now c’mon, we gotta make some wardrobe adjustments if we’re gonna get into that club.”

Sam and Bucky have some unorthodox methods of going undercover in a club.

He Doesn’t Deserve You! | Teen | 5,154 words

Sam and Bucky have an argument that results in Bucky being left at the bar. A group of drunk strangers assumes Bucky just got dumped and quickly adopt him for the night to make him feel better.

Reconstitution | Not Rated | 10,228 words

“I didn’t back Steve on the Sokovia Accords,” Sam says unprompted one day. They’re so close to apprehending the Flagsmashers and wrapping up this ridiculous saga.

“I don’t follow,” Bucky says.

“I was the one who refused to sign it first. Not Steve.”

Sam says it so softly that Bucky has to strain to hear him. Sam is loud and chatty and half the time he keeps up a constant stream of chatter just to get on Bucky’s nerves, but Bucky’s coming to realize that when he really wants to make himself heard, he’s soft spoken and mild. Bucky doesn’t entirely follow his train of thought, though.

Or: a breaking down, remaking, and coming back stronger than ever before

Stuck On You (You Suez, You Luez) | Explicit | 10,136 words

Sam and Bucky’s mission was simple: stowaway on a ship suspected of weapons-smuggling in the Suez, gather enough intel to report back, and hop off again in Port Said. Something gets in the way, and a day-long recon session turns into a week of chess, bickering, semi-successful movie references, and trying not to go slowly insane.

His Touch | Mature | 1,006 words

When Baron Zemo touched Bucky’s face, Sam Wilson saw red.

Bucky just wants Sam to comfort him.

rusted | Teen | 2,358 words

Bucky doesn’t grace him with a sound of acknowledgement. He’s been quiet, ever since that night with Zemo. Well. Quieter. It’s almost like. Every time he opens his mouth, he’s half-expecting the Winter Soldier to come out.

He hasn’t, yet. Won’t, ever again. Not unbidden. Sam’s sure of that. Bucky, not so much.

‘You busy?’

‘’m scouring the—’

‘Good,’ Sam cuts the idiot off, ‘I need you to help me shave.’

advanced therapy methods for large adult men | 2 parts | 11,717 words

part 1: The Gottman Method for Dealing with Conflict | Mature | 4,187 words

Bucky and Dr. Raynor have a follow-up session and two entirely different conversations about his relationship status.

Or: Let's do more couples therapy, James.

it’s always Bucky’s Fault | 3 parts | 20,089 words

part 1: Did you see it? | Explicit | 3,905 words

In which there's supposedly a viral video of the Winter Soldier on his knees sucking off Captain America.

Everything is, like always, completely Bucky's fault.

CANON DIVERGENCE

Even in the Present (I Am Living in the Past) | Teen | 16,977 words

Sometimes Sam still questions everything about his ability to shoulder the 80-year legacy he now bears. His history, and the history of his loss, sticks with him and even in healing he doubts whether or not he is able to fulfil his purpose, and whether he may find lasting peace and happiness.

Told in fluid-fragments, the story moves between his therapy sessions after his return from active duty and the post-Endgame present.

You never forget your first | Teen | 3,650 words

The story of Bucky and Sam getting together in a series of firsts.

leftovers | Mature | 19,249 words

With the New Avengers up and running, Sam finally has time to start dating again. Unfortunately, it's not going as well as he'd hoped.

Partners | Explicit | 7,235 words

Sam's not sure if he can be Captain America. He's not a supersoldier. He can't throw the shield. He's just a dude.

And Bucky Barnes is just a nuisance, albeit a pretty good-looking one.

I’ll explain everything to the geese | Explicit | 50,949 words

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Night Swimming | Teen | 2,056 words

“Come on. The princess has a new arm for you and I gotta see if there’s a barber around here willing to tackle your…” Sam waved a hand at Bucky’s face.

“I don’t want a new arm,” Bucky immediately bit out.

And then -

“I can cut my own damn hair.”

Sam just raised both eyebrows. Crossed his arms over his chest again.

Dared Bucky to prove him wrong.

AU

Cpvert Coffee & Flirtation Specialist | General | 5,542 words

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield?? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

Stolen Moments | Teen | 98,767 words

“No,” Sam said, chuckling. “I don’t cheat,” he swept his gaze up and down James’ body, “even with guys who look like you. But, I’m bored and a little pissed, so if you wanna sit here and shoot the shit ‘til my man shows back up, I’m game.”

Never one to back to back down from a challenge - especially a challenge who looked like Sam Wilson - Bucky took another swig from his bottle and replied, “Sure, doll. I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve has Sam. Bucky wants Sam. Sam wasn’t expecting any of this.

Such a Whirlwind Since I Saw You | Teen | 10,871 words

The Men of Letters turned Bucky Barnes into a weapon. Hunters Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov are determined to save him, but they're going to need Sam Wilson's help.

“So you want me to ditch work, drive across America with you until you find your friend, who you thought was dead - all while avoiding some high-tech hunters who are out for blood?” Sam is asking.

Steve shrugs a shoulder, looking a little sheepish. Natasha almost laughs at the dry tone of Sam’s voice, but he's not wrong.

You Got What I Need? | Explicit | 37,588 words

Sam and Bucky are both in a bind, professionally. Nat points out a solution that neither men like. To save their careers they play along or rather, stop playing all together.