#knight vibes go hard
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
KNIGHT Autumn!
(Lyrics from “Brutus” by the Buttress)
+ some sketches that lead to this piece and rambling about REVO Autumn & Priest









HRGGGGG IM NORMAL ABOUT THESE TWO I SWEAR—
The two have a sort of “secret third option” to describe the relationship. Every interaction is from the basis of mutually assured destruction. Since both know the other is an absolute fraud when it comes to what they say they are. (Priest being Lightsent and having a connection with a “god”, and Autumn having lost a wing from a demon attacking and him fighting it off) Autumn absolutely fucking hates Priest for how he’s ruined so many lives.
However.
Both of them lied their asses off to climb and pull themselves into a higher class of living. Both have also been treated like shit by most of their race in the lives they had before they came up with the lies. Autumn gets the want to get revenge on their whole race for how they treated you. Difference is? Autumn doesn’t think he deserves it, while Priest very much thinks he does.
Autumn learned a LOT about Priest (mans a fucking YAPPER about himself) because he was Priests personal guard whenever Priest was weakened from using magic. Which put him in the position to kill priest several, SEVERAL times. An opportunity he never took up. Though he did fantasize and came extremely close to it after Flame was tortured by Flint.
Autumn saw a side of Priest no one else did: The vulnerable side of Priest. The HONEST side of Priest. Because who would believe Autumn? And even if they did believe Autumn, Priest made sure to tighten the metaphorical leash he had on Autumn (reminded Autumn of their M.A.D.) to remind Autumn to never EVER let any info on him slip out.
Autumn meanwhile was never honest. Till he was. Till he found himself actually missing the Understanding of how he was treated by society. The Understanding of what it was like to always be living a life of lies. To never be able to be honest or else your life will fall apart.
….Funny. He found that understanding with Spice years down the line in SASS. Doesn’t get that in REVO, he just gets further trapped in a web of his own weaving.
As for why i decicded to draw him as a knight?
Autumn just really gives off knight vibes in REVO. Maybe it’s the fact that he had the sheer will to gouge a chunk of his back out in Early Years. I dont know. He just really gives off “will and strength of a Knight” he’s got the attitude of one. “Will sacrifice everything for the safety of his family” type shit is Knight mentality.
And ifdk how to describe the dynamic between Priest and Autumn. (Without going on a six paragraph essay rant at least) Villian and his blackmailed henchman??? Enemies to secret third option??? Corrupt King and his fool of a knight??? These fuckers would never kiss. Hell no.
(Well, maybe under heavily specific circumstances…)
Priest does think Autumn is unattractive and ugly, and Autumn thinks touch from Priest is absolutely vile. But there’s something ??? Something inexplicable that you can’t describe but is there. Very Porcilavian of a relationship between them. It’s definitely not a sexual relationship, or really a romantic relationship, i would say platonic, but platonic doesn’t feel right to describe it either? There’s hate in the relationship and constant political “games of chess”, but at the end of the day there’s ironically an aspect of trust in the other. A trust that if one were to destroy the other, they’d get dragged down with you.
Legitimately cannot convey this shit, the words are simply not in our vocabulary if the words exist at all. Send help (genuinely, what do they come across as)
Priest has NPD, and that results in an interesting view towards Autumn. Autumn isn’t his equal, but very close to being his equal (due to them living very similar upbringings in the sense that they were treated like shit for things they couldn’t control.) And because of that, Priest genuinely hates the fact that Autumn doesn’t think highly of himself. Because then by proxy, that means Priest isn’t viewed highly. So he makes comments that raise Autumns self confidence in backhanded ways. Tends to use WE statements (associating Autumn with him) and “people like us” statements when monologuing to Autumn about why he deserves everything and the respect and adoration of everyone. Tries to get Autumn to be selfish and do something to make himself satisfied for once.
He does regularly violate Autumns bodily autonomy though. Do NOT take their whatever the heck this is as a Good Relationship at all.
If I had to sum up Autumns feelings towards Priest in one song, it’d be Brutus.
“What motivates me now, hatred? or is it love?”
“My name is Brutus and my name means heavy—“
“So with a heavy heart I’ll drive this dagger into the heart of my enemy”
“Please know that my actions are not motivated only by envy!”
“I too have a destiny, this death will be art.”
“The people will speak of this day from near and far!”
“This event will be history! And I’ll be great too!”
“I don’t want what you have— I WANNA BE YOU”
#artists on youtube#my art#queer artist#Shawdios REVO#Knight!Autumn#autumn [august season]#REVO Autumn#Priest [Silver]#ace character#ace characters#alloace character#NPD character#traditional art#digtal art#comic book style#knight art#secret third thing#intersex character#trans character#autumn is both these tags ^#knight vibes go hard
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Age AU (The Magic Retreats)
Hi guys!!! So, I wrote this one in a fit of passion, but here's a brief take 2 on the most important chapter of the fic and the first one I posted! (In which Night becomes Tiny again :] ) As always this drabble is unedited and un-checked so uhh. Good luck!
(HI @ancha-aus , @papiliovolens , and @mutzelputz welcome back!)
The days felt like they were growing longer again. Maybe it was the change of the seasons, or the workload ramping up again making his nights bleed into his mornings. No matter the case, Nightmare was lucky to have moments of rest from his endless piles of debts and taxes and laws and requests that were strewn all about his office. They were nice, neat, piles now, but they seemed to be an endless cycle. He'd solve one problem and it would result in a new report of catastrophe somewhere else.
Often, he wondered whether it was that his Mother's ruling style had truly worked, or if she'd ignored it. After all, she'd been a God amongst mortals, why would she care for a few challenged livelihoods amidst her paradise?
The sharp clash of metal on magic drew Nightmare's attention back to the present. Against all odds, he'd managed to convince Cross to start training his sword again. When Cross had first started getting lessons to properly control his magic, harnessing even whisps of Nightmare's own spells on occasion, he'd quickly neglected his physical training. Over the last few weeks, Nightmare had voiced his worry that Cross might find himself up against another foe like Dust. One who he couldn't simply control. He needed to re-learn his old battle tactics. Only then, he'd promised, they would move on to harnessing both at once.
So, now, he was sparring against Horror in the training room. Nightmare sat off to the side on the benches, Dust and Killer on either side of him watching intently. Two of his tendrils hovered readily before him, ready to pounce to intercept any wayward attacks or truly dangerous intent, though he trusted his Knight to not put his newest comrade in any real danger. The other two tendrils lay lax behind the bench, curling comfortably beneath where his other Knights sat at his sides.
These were the sorts of daily distractions he enjoyed. Which pulled him away from the stress of the papers and the outside world. He could focus solely on his charges and how best to help them. They helped him so often, he just wanted to return the favor.
His eyelight followed the movements, as Horror stayed more or less right on Cross's tail. His axe swung slower than normal, and it was obvious he was taking the training seriously without giving Cross a heart-attack from the force of his normal blows. It wasn't often Nightmare allowed them to pair up precisely because of that. Horror had no magic for Cross to control, none that would help him at least. Meanwhile, Horror's brute strength could snap Cross like a twig if something were to go slightly awry.
A swing of the axe, Cross's longsword cracking against the handle as he blocked. A push-off, sending Cross back a few steps before he swung. Missed. The axe was on him again, this time towards his side. Cross jumped over it, swung his sword. Missed again. The axe came in again, from above. A narrow block, one which forced Cross to his knee, before Horror let up.
Horror was simply a marvel of physical combat. He hadn't been a good fighter when Nightmare met him, but he'd learned very quickly. From watching the guards, from listening to Nightmare. Though, Nightmare was almost positive Killer had actually been his biggest influence. Killer, the cockpit, single Knight at that time. He'd taken Dust under his supervision at the time, practically heading the dismantling of the crime rings Dust knew so well all on his own. Meanwhile, Nightmare was working with Horror to understand how to fix the farming situation across the kingdom. Once things settled, and Nightmare expressed interest in having Horror stick around, it was Killer who showed off in combat training. Horror spun off his feet and pushed off his hands in the way expected of a much smaller, leaner, monster. Very similar to how Killer fought when he was playing around.
It was evidently too unfamiliar for Cross. He'd been taught formal swordplay, but here in this kingdom? That was about as useful as playing with a slingshot and trying to operate a trebuchet. It seemed similar, but it could only get one so far.
Cross had been steadily improving, of course. Just a year or so ago, Cross had been besting all the rest of the royal guard out on the training field. But placed against Killer, the best of the best at practical combat, no holds bar? He'd fumbled. Now, Nightmare knew Cross could hold his own against his proudest Knight. That meant a lot in such a short time. Pride filled his chest at the thought, as he watched the two of them clash again and again.
He knew his time was running short for today. He'd had Dust and Killer work on their team-building and attack him earlier on in training while Cross and Horror were warming up. As he already knew, they were chatty, but very efficient in their coordination.
"On your left!" Killer would call out. Dust would simply duck as Killer instead vaulted over his head as though emerging from the shorter Knight's shadow, knife in hand, glowing red with energy.
Killer's use of deceptive verbal cues was a talent he'd come up with all his own. Nightmare remembered him pestering Dust over it every dinner for a week after he'd first thought of it. Dust had seemed annoyed at first, but Nightmare could tell after the first session of them trying it out, against him? He'd been unaware, and if his magic didn't work separate from his mind on occasion, they would have gotten him in the first two minutes.
They'd used it again earlier, and even after several years it still kept Nightmare on his toes. He figured that was why he felt tired as he watched the two locked in mock battle before him. The cognitive challenges did tend to make his socket heavy with sleep. And he hated to admit it, but he always knew about when to end their afternoon trainings, because it lined up with when his mind would start to lag. Even years later, his body still seemed to respond to the familiar draw of a long-discarded bed time.
He'd let them exchange a few more blows, before calling it off and ushering them all off to clean up before dinner. Even if he knew only Cross and Dust would go wash up. Horror would go change out of his training gear into clean clothes, he hated to look messy at the dinner table, abd Killer would simply stick to his side like glue.
It never was a point of complaint, he appreciated the commitment, but sometimes he really did wish he'd at least take a moment to swap clothes. Sometimes he tracked all sorts of dirt and scraps of magic out of the training room and into the halls.
Mm. The clashing seemed to have reached a rhythm. That meant Cross had gotten familiar with Horror's movement patterns again. It never lasted long, Horror was very adaptable, but it did mean that Cross would be locked into the stalemate now, or it'd be an easy defeat for Horror. Better to call it now and send them off with a bit of praise. They never ceased to impress him, they'd all grown so much.
"Alright, end the match." he called. It didn't take hardly a moment for the order to register after his voice carried to the two monsters.
Cross was the first to pull away, with Horror letting his swing fall short and his Axe's momentum swing up and into the air. He caught the grip and almost immediately stuffed it back into its own holster along his back. Cross sheathed his sword, and while a bit out of breath, he still grinned triumphantly and bowed amicably to Horror. Horror returned it with a nod. Their little ritual.
"Wonderful work today, all of you." Nightmare announced, his front two tendrils slinking back to his sides as they no longer had danger to be hyper aware of. To defend against. "Tomorrow, I want to see you two spar again, I believe you are making great leaps in progress, Cross. Dust will provide you both with terrain obstacles in the form of erratic magic attacks to simulate a more turbulent battle field and provide Horror with more opportunity to practice dodging." The suggestion seemed well-recieved, and Nightmare let his good eyelight turn to Killer, who sat grinning beside him. "Killer, you and I will be doing more endurance training for your magic."
"Looking forward to it, my Lord," Killer replied.
That made Nightmare chuckle a bit. Once upon a time, Killer would tense up at the premise of magic training. Then, as he grew bolder, groan at the mention. He was not proficient in the sort of magic Cross, Dust, or he himself relied on, but his preferred weapon was a knife or two summoned by his own soul. Since it was magic, Nightmare insisted he learn to better sustain and alter it rather than letting it atrophy in the wake of his extensive physical training. Now, seeing him grin lazily at the idea, not a worry weighing on his soul? It made Nightmare feel a lot more justified in making the rambunctious Knight do the more "boring" practical training.
"If we understand what to expect for the afternoon tomorrow, then you are dismissed. I will see you all at dinner," he declared. Humor filled his chest at the warmth which rolled off his knights at the mention of food. Dinner was always cooked by Ccino, and Ccino was the best cook. Nightmare would know.
He watched as Cross gave a little salute before he turned on his heel to begin to follow Horror's lumbering gait towards the heavy doors separating this room from the hall. The newest Knight's voice was quiet, but excitable as he started to reflect on his techniques to Horror. He always debriefed after a training.
Beside him, Dust swung forward off the bench and landed silently, already moving to follow the other two. His body-language always seemed disgruntled, and his expression was hidden under his darkened hood, but Nightmare knew he was pleased with his work tonight. Content with what he had accomplished.
"Cross is gettin' a lot faster." Killer's voice was calm beside him, and Nightmare followed the other's hollow gaze to where the other three were discarding their gear, hanging it up on the racks near the door where they always stored the supplies.
Four spaces, one for each knight. Killer had gouged his name into the wooden base of his own years ago.
"I agree." Nightmare let one of his tendrils wrap at the ground around a leg of the bench. "It helps that he is eager and willing to improve on his skills. And that he has others to lean on as he continues to learn."
Killer's scoff quickly devolved into a laugh at the thinly veiled praise. It wasn't unusual of him to slip it into conversation. A quick, gentle nudge of praise. Acknowledgement and appreciation. Killer had heard to most of it, and Nightmare often worried he'd find it insincere.
As far as he knew, he never did.
"You should go put up your armor as well." Nightmare suggested, nudging at Killer's back with a tendril.
"Yes, sir." Killer chimed, the sharpness of his laughter still on his tongue.
Nightmare rose simply, and Killer pushed off the bench with a quick hop. His feet planted, and Nightmare waited for him to take a step towards where the others were before moving to follow. It felt right, to see them all in one spot. Relaxed.
He moved to follow Killer's quick steps, only... All at once his vision seemed to double, and he halted himself. He could feel his tendrils lash out, moving to stabilize him against the floor of the training room. He still stood upright, just barely, but it seemed all his balance had left him. Instinctively, in a fit of habit, he shut his good socket and took a moment. The swaying feeling he was gripped by, even after a deep breath an counting to five, did not fade. The darkness which usually seemed to calm him only seemed to make the swaying worse. He could not tell if the motion was coming from him, or I the ground beneath him was shifting like the deck of a boat. Without his vision he couldn't orient up versus down, let alone find his stability again.
Opening his good socket provided him with orientation, though his vision still danced and swirled. He was looking down, down towards the brick ground, from the space behind his palm. When did he place his hand to his socket? The view included his legs, which he recognized now were shaking, and his tendrils which were trying to hold him in place.
And...
He jolted at the contact he could see but hadn't felt in the slightest. He skull reeled up so that he could see who had touched him. One hand on his elbow. The other- when did he grab Killer's arm? When had Killer turned around to look at him? Why was Killer looking at him like that?
It was Killer, who had ahold of him, though he couldn't feel the Knight's touch, and he couldn't tell if he was gripping the other's arm at all. Though he was, he could see it.
His vision warped again with the quick movement. A desperate bid to look past Killer. Was there a threat? The blurry form of Dust shot past him, he thought. Horror and Cross still seemed to be by the door.
The ceiling. Why was he looking at the ceiling? No, wait, the floor now. It grew closer, in the space between himself and Killer, as the opening for him to see it grew smaller. Then he couldn't see it at all, his vision replaced swiftly by- training gear. The leather smell invaded his senses as the rest failed him. He couldn't feel Killer, though he knew the knight was near to him. That, as far as he could tell, Killer had caught him. That he'd sunken to the ground under his own weight.
Why?
His socket wasn't being helpful. It seemed, from what he saw, that his tendrils were trying to melt away as they moved errantly to slap onto Killer's back or the ground beyond. Surely that wasn't right? His tendrils had never wavered. He shut his socket again, letting his skull sink into the training armor again.
It didn't occur to him for a few moments, that he couldn't hear his knights, until he suddenly could.
The voices were loud and grating, breaking his wobbling darkness once again as he tried to force his socket back open. What was wrong with him?
"Horror, I said go get Ccino! Now!" Killer. He'd know that voice anywhere, though he didn't like the angry tone. Like fire spitting from his tongue seemingly right above Nightmare's skull. "This isn't some sort of test, I- I don't know what this is. It can't be good."
Nightmare tried to reach out. Not physically, it felt he still couldn't control his limbs. No, he tried to sense. Did the others know what was wrong with him? Was the rising panic in his chest originating from his own emotions or theirs? Had... had one of them done something?
No, it wasn't them.
"Shit." Somewhere behind him, he heard Dust's voice hiss. "His magic levels are dropping. And fast."
For a second, Nightmare was stunned. What did he mean his magic levels were dropping? Though, it made sense. Somewhere deep in his chest he could feel it, the swaying motion as his magic tried to peel away from his bones. He-
"What do you-" Killer still sounded frustrated, and he too spat an expletive a moment later.
Nightmare, for the briefest moment, thought he felt touch again against his skull. He let his blurry socket fall closed again, the vision only worsening as his magic rocked with unseen waves of revulsion.
"Cross, try to grab his magic," Killer ordered.
The familiar splattering of the young Night would've been comforting, if the suggestion didn't fill him with dread. Killer knew better than that. They'd agreed Cross could only touch on controlling his magic. Nothing more. It was too vast.
"W-what! I- I shouldn't-" Cross attempted to stammer a defense, but Killer was quicker with words. Always had been.
"Just try. Now. Hold it in place and see if it stablizes." The command was a lot more controlled than the previous one, but his tone was leaving no room for error. "When the King and Ccino are unavailable, I'm in charge. Listen to me."
Nightmare had never heard Killer take charge in such a way before, and in his haze he might've written it off as a product of his imagination. All of this being some sort of weird hallucination. But he felt the invasive force of Cross' magic snake over his bones.
He'd felt it before, a sort of blanket or hand-hold aimed at the ends if his tendrils which could make them twitch a bit with Cross's own will. This time he felt it creep up the length of his spine and dig unseen claws into his shoulder blades. He could feel it, just like he could now feel Killer's chin and shoulder, where his skull had been tucked. He could feel the hand supporting his back, the other his side. He felt limp as the forceful magic washed over him.
Nightmare gagged.
Cross's magic caught on something, like a hook finding the fish, and for a brief few moments, Nightmare felt like he had a ball of gunk in his non-existant gut. Something heavy and feral, trying to escape.
For just a moment, he regained a breath of awareness. He felt his Knight supporting his weight, he felt the nakedness of his back where his tendrils had completely abandoned him, he felt the emotions of the three still with him. Fear. Confusion. Anger. He didn't like it much. He still couldn't move his limbs.
And just as quickly as it was stable, the hold on the wild magic slipped away. Like the fish had broken the string.
It flowed up, like the force of a dam finally released. Through his ribcage, past his shoulders where Cross's magic seemed to dissipate all at once, into his mouth.
Nightmare regained some semblance of control over his body at that moment. As the magic seemed to rush towards freedom. He shoved away from Killer all at once, the chill of the stone hitting his palms heavily and his socket opening if only to watch as he lost it. That dark, thick, sticky magic that had marked him as a bad omen. That had gifted him the power to rule in place of his twin. Protect those he loved.
It spilled to the stone before him, and he was stunned to watched that, as he heaved suddenly labored breaths, it sunk away. Disappeared. Just like that, instead of his familiar darkness, the protective shield, the instinctive defense he had grown to know, he was staring at the floor. And the space in which his wobbling arms hid under too-big sleeves, and from the cuffs escaped perfect, pearly-white bone. Bone he could never seem to reach no matter how hard he scrubbed with water and soap. Bones that seemed so frail in the torchlight.
"My king?"
Nightmare let his eyelight raise from the ground. It wasn't as wobbly anymore, his vision slowly coming back to normal. He still took his time trailing from the ground, to look at Killer's pants. He was on his knees, hardly an arm's length away. Then the edges of his chestplate. His arms were outstretched, hovering barely away from touching Nightmare. He shook at the closeness, but didn't dare try to move. Killer's soul was wobbling. Nightmare's boww furrowed at the sight. It was very small, but he'd always notice the little changes and moves. Though, he noticed an absence of something at the back of his skull as he stared. Something missing.
Killer's face was last. He looked serious, his dark sockets not a new sight, but Nightmare hardly saw Killer so serious. He'd seen the look before. Usually when he'd see someone bothering Ccino. It had always been brief, quickly disguised under his patented sadistic grin. Killer just watched him now. As though he was sone glass sculpture ready to tip off the end of the table.
He hated, as he stared, that he couldn't- he could feel-
He tried to shift, to whip his head to look for the knight he knew should've been behind him. And he was right, of course. A glimpse of Dust's shadowed skull and tense body-language told Night he was on high-alert, but Nightmare hadn't been able to feel him. Hadn't sensed his presence at all. No emotions, no aura, no nothing.
"Woah, steady!" Killer yelped as Nightmare felt himself tilt.
Looking up at Dust had disoriented him. The weight distribution was different now. His body listed to the side, and he flinched when arms wrapped around at his sides and tugged his upper half onto soft fabric. Killer's legs. Killer had caught him.
"My king, Nightmare, it's you, right?" He sounded the same. Something told Nightmare he was uncertain.
"Y-" His attempt to speak was short-lived. His voice wasn't right. It was high-pitched and raw. All the rumble and low tones entirely missing. He couldn't be sure if he stopped on account of keeping his pride alive, or if he feared speaking in a voice he hadn't heard in years.
It didn't help that he couldn't feel them. No matter how much he tried, the only feeling in his chest was his own solitary anxiety. Balling up tighter and tighter, an old friend come home again. If he could tell what they were thinking- if he could know if he was safe...
He bit back his panic, holding in the weakness which was threatening to give him away. Though, what else was there to give? If he was right, then the prophecy had finally rejected him. Left him as an offering to a pack of wolves.
Nightmare knew he was shaking, but some irrational part of him thought that if he kept his socket shut that this would all be some absurd night terror and he'd wake up cozy in his bed, or exhausted at his desk, or maybe passed out on the floor. Somewhere else. Anywhere else.
"What's wrong?" That voice was deeply familiar, and all at once Nightmare felt like he had a surge of strength. "Why did Horror rush me back here? Where is our King?" It was Ccino. He sounded more frustrated than anything else, but he didn't need to feel his emotions to know the rise to his tone. The worry buried there.
"We finished training and everything was fine," Killer explained, tone as even as he could muster, "But when we were on our way out, he just collapsed."
Nightmare pitied him, having to tell Ccino any sort of bad news. Nightmare didn't think as he attempted again to shove himself up. If only to catch a glimpse of Ccino.
As he peered barely over Killer's shoulder, he saw what the others did. Ccino had some sort if flour or wheat all down the front of his nice apron, and a few streaks along the thighs of hid pants from where he'd probably wiped his hands along the way. His expression was a mix of concern and fury that set Nightmare's soul into a pretzel-twist of regret, and his eyelights scanned the room as he rapidly approached Killer. Obviously looking for answers.
Only, Ccino arrived to Killer's side, and his growing rage seemed to stop all at once, alongside his steps. He stared down at Nightmare with wide eyes. Nightmare stared up at him wearily. The king's sockets were beginning to water. Ccino's expression, the way his balled fists twitched and relaxed, the way he seemed to lose all the tension I'm his body, just getting a glimpse at him. Ccino recognized his face, no doubt about it.
"Nightmare?" Ccino's voice was small.
Nightmare fumbled a bit as he tried to launch away from Killer. Having Ccino so close to him simply... broke whatever had been holding back the emotional damage within. It didn't help in the slightest when Ccino crouched and immediately tugged him away from Killer and into a gentle bear-hug there on the floor.
For the first time, in a very long time, he found that the welling of tears in his sockets didn't result in dark, tarlike, goop that fell in chunks down his skull. This time the tears were real, a transparent lilac which raced down his cheeks abd planted themselves against the fabric of Ccino's tunic and apron. He wasn't wearing his fur, he was smart like that.
Ccino's arms wrapped around his back like they always did, and Nightmare felt himself slipping. Ccino was safe. He had always been safe.
Nightmare didn't have time to begin sobbing as he had expected, or to even begin to hyperventilate into Ccino's shirt or curl into a ball against his chest. The moment Ccino nuzzled the side of his skull, his vision went blurry again.
At the tightening of Ccino's grip, he heard Dust's voice again. "Magic-loss. A lot of it." Faintly rolled into his mind like a distance voice two doors over. He didn't quite catch when Killer started to speak again, or Ccino worriedly said his name. Dust was right, the magic was gone. Out of nowhere. It was a lot for his little body to handle.
#new age au#Okay so now that I have a better grasp on how these guys work I feel like this is more true to their energy!!!#Night was still a hard persoective to roll with but I got committed lol-#I love these goofballs so so dearly <3#and Nightmare having some huikd-up to the drama felt vital just because. well. in all technicality if I were to write this as a full fic#this would probably either be my first chapter or the 3rd or so after I establish stuff#anyways yeah vibing a lot more with this one!#combat seemed like fun but this is definitely more of a Nightmare kinda thing to do at this point in the plot! and#more true to the Knights#as much as I think Killer would gate-keep little Nightmare for his safety. he also knows Ccino#outranks them for a reason and even if they're not the closest atp in the plot? he respects Ccino SO much#also ur King melting in ur arms is enough to make anyone panic I think-#okah now I'm gonna go to sleep 🫡
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
What if the red string of fate was tied around your neck like a collar and the person on the other end was horrified to be holding it like a leash?
Masterpost - Ko-Fi
#insanity's romance#desertsportshipping#champion leon#leon pokemon#pokemon sword and shield#trainer wes#wes pokemon#pokemon colosseum#soulmate au but the red string of fate is arranged according to their subconciousness#with wes viewing himself as a dog on a leash while its tied to leon's pointer finger#as if leon points to command him#look the noble x knight vibes go so hard rn#attack dog x man who really doesn't wanna be holding the leash
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unironically, IS there anywhere to get a good beat-by-beat plot synopsis of the original Minecraft Diaries without watching it all the way through? I want to get a good idea of all the plot beats and characters and the general timeline to see about writing some fanfic, because the characters are living rent free in my brain, but I'm also like... VERY aware that it's a 2016 minecraft roleplay series... and I fear that I will ruin my own mental image of the series if I try to rewatch it all...
#i mostly loved the series as a kid bc of the concepts it dealt with#the reincarnation shit#laurence's struggle w shadow knight stuff#the lore and the dimensions and lady irene and just#i love shit like that#to this day#and now im a grown man#an english major who loves media analysis#and that makes it really fuckin hard to enjoy things 💀#so i wanted to see if theres a way to keep its fantasy ideas while shaking off the extra bits that dont go as well#(the 2016 youtube shenanigans; the pacing issues; some of the less sensical or useful plot bits)#bc i have a real passion for that vibe and that world and those characters#i have such huge ideas for how to make the themes so much more cohesive#but i wanna actually had a concrete idea what im working with#mcd#minecraft diaries#also for the record it doesnt have to be “”“”good“”“” to be GOOD. if you enjoy it then thats very good and im very glad#i very simply know that theres stuff there that i personally dislike
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
my new assignments for the friends as xiv jobs if u even care (based mostly on my friends interpretations of said characters)—
leland - paladin lol
connie - astrologian, sage, or bard
sonny - scholar, sage, or summoner
julie - dancer, monk or bard
danny - dark knight, machinist or black mage
maria - white mage, astrologian or pictomancer
ana - warrior, dark knight or paladin
#having a hard time picking between the healers for ms connie but astro reminds me of her unicorn fantasy vibes a little#can’t explain but also the sage ability to put the tank in The Shame Cube of shielding#sonny would just be very cute with a fairy summon + u have to use ur brain to coordinate scholar abilities well.#julie just seems like a super active role. dancer sorta pretty and fun and provides party support + dance partner#danny as written by my homies is very dark knight misunderstood 2 me. but also machinist bc hehe tinkering#maria white mage bc nature lilies heaven energy sometimes. bright light etc#ana warrior bc never die and think she should get to go crazy and stupid angry mode sometimes#picto also cute for maria like it’s just so whimsical#the gangs team comp is in shambles but its ok
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey something wonky is happening with the art style -




Is... Is this a Liefield?? What is Marlene's spine doing? Why is this random guy so jacked??
Apparently the artist is Stephen Platt, who later worked with Liefield, but dang the 90's were really just Like That huh
#moon knight#the style shift was so drastic it pulled me bodily out of the story#that guy was giving liefield captain america vibes so hard i had to pause to go google some things
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pick-A-Card: What Makes People Secretly Jealous of You✧˖°.
How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you, go ahead and read both!
✰ If you enjoyed this reading, get your own personalized paid reading here!😊🦋
✰ For personalized 18+ readings, click here!
✰ My Ko-fi link: here 🫶🏻
✰ My Masterlist🫶🏻
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ˚ PILE I
cards pulled: 5 of swords, 4 of swords, page of wands, 6 of swords, knight of swords, 3 of swords
Okay PILE 1, UHM… instantly, you’re giving main character energy in a way that intimidates the sh*t out of people. Like you’re not even trying to be the center of attention, but somehow you always are? You enter a space and people are like, “Who do they think they are?” while also copying your stuff three days later. You walk with a silent type of confidence, very “don’t test me” energy. People sense you’ve had hard times, and even if they don’t know the details, they can feel it. You’ve got this inner toughness that’s kind of scary hot tbh. Your vibe is a whole psychological thriller. Like, folks don’t know whether to admire you, kiss you, or block you for their own emotional safety 😂
You probably learned the HARD way not to overshare. You likely had friendships that ended weirdly, conversations that drained you, people who twisted your words. And now? You’ve mastered the art of being unreadable but piercingly observant. This group is in their “🧠 > 🤡” era( I SAID WHAT I SAID😭) . You don’t argue. You just watch, process, distance yourself, and transform yourself in silence. THIS. This is the part that has people frothing. You’re unbothered. People can literally throw tantrums, shade, or even subtle digs at you, and you’ll be doing your own shit and minding your own mental health. You’re the kind of person who pulls back, protects their peace, and doesn't give people the satisfaction of a reaction. And bestie, THAT is maddening to people who need chaos to feel relevant. You choosing silence? You choosing yourself? You resting instead of people-pleasing? People cannot handle how you don’t chase or cling or overexplain. Your energy says, “If you cross me, I’ll just go leave, idc.” And that’s more threatening than any clapback. Them not feeling worthy enough is what piss them off
Ugh, I love this for you 😭 i sense this is youthful fire. Like, your curiosity, your passion, your spark, it’s infectious. Even when you’re figuring life out, you make it look like an adventure. People wish they had your sense of excitement, your ability to find beauty in the unknown, your passion projects, your spontaneous glow-up moments. You still believe in magic, and you chase it. People see that in you and lowkey get anxious sometimes which in turn leads to anxiety. You remind them of who they used to be or who they wish they were. You’re like their inner child’s inspiration and trigger at the same damn time 😭
If you ask how this jealousy shows up? Okay bestie, here’s the deal, they LEAVEEE. that's it....Like, people who get too jealous of you will slowly drift, ghost, or distance themselves. And it’s not because you did anything. Nope. It’s literally because your energy is a mirror, you unintentionally expose what they’re running from in themselves. So when someone exits your life out of nowhere? It's not always shade. It’s often that your growth, your self-protection, your refusal to settle… it gets too loud for their comfort. And some of them might even act like you’re "too much" or “hard to connect with” but that’s just projection, babe. They’re mad you're moving on, moving forward, and not looking back.
AND THIS is your sign to stop holding back. You’ve got things to say. Projects to create. Movements to spark. Opinions to express. And the universe is screaming at you to stop playing nice just to make insecure people feel comfy. You’re meant to lead. You’ve got clarity that cuts through the fluff, and people NEED that. You’re not here to be palatable; you’re here to be powerful.
Okay big hug 🤍 because this tells me your power didn’t come from sunshine and luck, alteast not always. It came from heartbreak, betrayal, disappointment. Like… people don’t get that your confidence is built on grief. You’ve transmuted pain into power. And while they’re busy watching your highlight reel, they have no idea you cried yourself into this version of you. That’s the hidden jealousy no one talks about, how you kept going when others would’ve collapsed. That’s the real intimidation.
I’m getting an oddly specific message: some people from your past (school friends? old internet mutuals?) STILL stalk you online. Like, they swear they don’t care, but they’re obsessed with the way you keep evolving. I even saw someone in my mind writing a note like “they always bounce back.” LMAO not them studying you😭
Stay sharp, baby. You’re meant to trigger AND inspire 💅🔥
Liked the reading? get your own personalized, super detailed reading HERE!
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ˚ PILE II
cards pulled: the world, 9 of pentacles, ace of pentacles, ace of wands, queen of wands, 3 of swords
OMG okay wait PILE 2??! Babe… you’re not even walking into rooms, you’re making whole room shift when you show up (okay maybe a little exaggeration but i feel that way so i said it) 💀 but honestly, to me, This pile is aura-too-bright-for-this-world energy. The cards here?? ICONIC.
So right off the bat, with The World as your “vibe that catches attention instantly,” I audibly gasped. No, seriously ’m seeing someone who’s got that complete package aura. Like… when you walk into a space, people instantly sense that you’ve seen life, evolved, and you’re not here to play. You feel like someone who's been through seasons, leveled up through pain, and came out looking expensive, composed, and unbothered. There’s this whole “I’ve arrived” energy that surrounds you. It's not cocky it’s earned.
And paired with Nine of Pentacles + Ace of Pentacles + Ace of Wands + Queen of Wands, like… WHAT EVEN IS THIS POWER COMBO?? Bestie, you are literally the embodiment of “I’m secured, unshakable” I’m seeing you as someone who might have had to glow up alone. People ditched you during your struggle era.People are so jealous because you make independence look luxurious. And this isn’t fake rich aesthetic energy, it’s like… you actually worked for the stability you have now. Financial glow-up? Check. Confidence glow-up? Check. ENERGY glow-up? Baby, it’s off the charts. For people who havent yet received any of these, just wait lovelies, you are soon reaching that level! You come off as someone who doesn’t need anyone, but also, anyone would kill to be needed by you. your creative spark is lit as hell right now. You probably have 10 ideas swirling in your head at any moment. You’re the kind of person who creates something new out of nothing, and just have oodly specific magnetic quality. People can’t stop watching you like they’re not even sure why they’re drawn to you, but they are. You might post the most random thing on social media and get a hundred saves. It’s THAT type of energy. You intimidate people without trying. You could be in sweats and people are still clocking you like, “Who is THAT?” You walk in like a flame in a room full of plastic candles. I’m not gonna lie some folks deadass want your confidence, your glow, your ability to just own yourself. And they try to copy it, but it doesn’t hit the same because theirs is curated. Yours? Authentic AF.
BUT THEN… BOOM. We get hit with Three of Swords and oof. That changes the whole flavor of this pile. This is the secret ingredient in your power. People don’t realize that the reason you shine so hard now is because you had to crawl through heartbreak, betrayal, rejection, and emotional hell just to find your light again. Like, this is NOT surface-level sadness. This is “I had to rebuild my damn self when everyone left” energy. Your glow comes from grief you survived. Your confidence was carved out of loss. And people feel that even if they don’t consciously get it.
Let’s talk about how this jealousy shows up in behavior. Some people act fake supportive. You’ll notice them almost hyping you up, but it’s giving “I’m clapping, but I’m also watching to see when you fall.” Others might straight up ghost you the moment you succeed at something. Like, why is it crickets when you’re winning?? 😭 Some people are so triggered by your glow-up they pretend they don’t see it. You’ll post something huge and they’ll scroll past like they’re blind, but you know they saw it. Oh, they saw it. They’re LURKING. I’m picking up on past friends or even family members who remember you before you knew your worth, are mostly jealous. They don’t know how to deal with you now that you’ve stepped into your power. Also I’m feeling online strangers too. People who watch you, feel inferior, and try to tear you down in petty ways, shady energy, maybe even copying you to feel closer to your vibe. But it never lands right. Because your essence? It’s not copy-paste.
Babe… you’re not meant to be digestible to everyone. Your energy is big, your aura is blinding, and not everyone has the emotional range to celebrate that. Some people will see your light and clap. Others will squint and get mad that it hurts their eyes. That’s not your problem. The World card is reminding you: you’ve already completed one of the hardest chapters. You don’t need external validation. You ARE the moment. Keep planting those seeds (Ace of Pentacles), chase that inspiration (Ace of Wands), stay in your fiery power (Queen of Wands), and remember you’re glowing because you healed through hell. And that’s the real flex.
People aren't just jealous of what you have. they're haunted by the fact that nothing could break you.
Liked the reading? get your own personalized, super detailed reading HERE!
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ˚ PILE III
Cards Pulled: ace of cups, 9 of wands, judgement, 10 of cups, the sun
OH BABY. PILE 3??? This one has me emotional chaos in the best way possible, like, I’m laughing, crying, cheering you on, and lowkey feeling jealous myself 😭✨ There’s just something so undeniably rare about your energy, and I’m gonna be real with you, people don’t just notice you… they get emotionally activated by you.
So right off the bat we open with the Ace of Cups as your “vibe that catches attention instantly.” GIRL. The softness. The emotional depth. The actual divine femininity (this quality is not restricted to one gender, it’s about the energy here) . People sense that your heart is open, your energy is healing, and you’ve got this naturally receptive, magnetic glow that pulls people in like you’re the human version of a warm hug and a deep exhale. You give off big “safe space” energy but also romantic, ethereal, dreamy vibes. It’s like… being around you makes people want to open up, cry, confess their life story and then fall in love with you. You’re that person.
And that’s exactly why the Nine of Wands shows up next because people have no idea how hard you’ve worked to stay this soft. You’ve been through so much emotional wounding, maybe abandonment, betrayal, family drama, heartbreak but instead of turning bitter, you became even more radiant. Bestie, you are literally the definition of a wounded healer. Your boundaries are firm now, but you still love so hard. You protect your peace(AS YOU SHOULD), but you’ve also never lost that softness. THAT is your power. You didn’t get cold. You got clear.
Now here’s the fun part: people are jealous as hell of your emotional fulfillment and the fact that you are so deeply in tune with yourself and others. The Ten of Cups and The Sun together?. This is “I’m manifesting the life of my dreams and I will protect my joy with my whole damn soul” energy. Whether or not you have the full picture yet (some of you may still be building it), people look at you and feel like: “Ugh. They’ve got it all.” The dream relationships. The emotional clarity. That sense of “I know what I want, and I will not settle for less.” That triggers people who feel lost, disconnected, or stuck in superficiality.
THIS is the energy that freaks people out the most. Because it’s the card of awakening. You’re someone who constantly reinvents yourself, levels up, and literally triggers people’s consciousness. Like, someone will meet you and a week later be in an existential crisis just from how your energy reflected back all the places they’re asleep in their own life. You don’t even need to say much, your presence alone forces people to confront their emotional blind spots. It’s that deep.
Let’s talk about how this jealousy actually shows up in behavior, because oh honey, it’s sneaky. Some people will love-bomb you at first. They’ll worship you, obsess over you, and tell you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to them. But as soon as they realize they can’t match your depth or keep up with your light? Boom. They either ghost you, emotionally shut down, or try to project their pain onto you. Some may even subtly compete with you emotionally, like copying your vibe but making it weirdly performative. Others might act overly critical of your emotions like “you’re too sensitive” or “too idealistic” but deep down? They wish they could feel as deeply and freely as you. I’m picking up on exes, old crushes, emotionally unavailable people, and even spiritually bypassing fake-deep people. They once had access to your love, your softness, your radiance, and now they’re haunted by the fact that they fumbled you. Also, I feel like some parents or authority figures might’ve been emotionally intimidated by how “different” you were growing up. Maybe you felt misunderstood for being so dreamy or sensitive. But look at you now turning your heart into a damn superpower.
Do not water down your light or dim your joy to make others comfortable. The Sun says your happiness is holy. You’re meant to shine, radiate, and live in color, even if that makes other people squint. And Judgement is reminding you: keep rising. Every time you outgrow your old self, people will fall off, and that’s okay. They were never meant to go where you’re headed. Your emotional depth isn’t a weakness. it’s what makes you a fckin force of nature. Keep protecting your peace, pouring love into people who deserve it, and curating a life that feels like poetry. The right ones will meet you there. You’re not just powerful because of your light, you’re powerful because you chose your light after walking through hell. And people will always be a little salty about that.
So go ahead and keep shining, crybaby angel warrior 😭💛 You’ve earned every drop of your joy.
Liked the reading? get your own personalized, super detailed reading HERE!
Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog, it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡
Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!
#tarot reading#tarotblr#pac#pick a pile#tarot cards#paid tarot readings#divination#tarotcommunity#tarot pick a card#spirituality#tarot deck#kpop tarot#tarot witch#tarot community#tarot reader#cartomancy#shufflemancy#tarot#tarotoftheday#tarotoftumblr#devine feminine#witch community#witchblr#witchcraft#paid tarot reading#pick a card reading#pick a card#pick a picture#pick a photo#pap
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
What is your future spouse’s biggest fantasies with you? 18+ MNDI

Pick a Gif 1 —> 4. gifs from mobile Devdas with Aishwarya Rai.
First of all thank you everyone who did the poll and i’m so sorry it took so long!! I was busy with school and work. :(( but now i’m back yayyy!
Remember that this is a generalized reading and may not be as personal as a personal reading 💫🌸 Please take what resonates, leave what don’t and let yourself be loved.
Pile 1❤️🔥
ace of pentacles, page of cups, page of swords
Awe, This pile is so cute! I am getting a ‘puppy’ love sort of vibe, even if you are both older. Scratch that - ESPECIALLY if you are both older. I see that your future spouse will think pure thoughts of you in 18+ fantasies even through old age. They do not see you through a degrading lenses, you are their prize, always.
They might be thinking of your face a lot, they love they way your eyes light up and want to finish all over your pretty face 🫣 oop. You might be a pisces too or verrryyy wet🌊 down there. They want to make you squr*t. They love shower s*x you as well, or simple imaging your body oiled up for them with their hands running all over you-omg!
Overall this person is obsessed with you, especially your face. You remind them of a beautiful mermaid and s*x with them will be more passionate and romantic than hard and degrading- perhaps you aren’t into that slow lovely thing but over time I see you opening yourself up (no pun intended!) for that and they becoming a little more rough and dominant for you if that’s what you’ll like. I see a harmony here of you meeting each other halfway.
Pile 2 ❤️🔥
knight of swords, the devil, page of pentacles
Omg I felt your future spouses energy exactly when I was shuffling and the cards only confirmed this. I believe they are dominant, and want to dominate you. There is also an element that there is something taboo here in this relationship that others may not understand, wether that is a same-sex relationship or this person is a bit younger/older than you.
I see there biggest fantasies being showing you new things, taking you out, and buying you what ever you want, only for them to roughly handle you 🥵 when you guys go back home. You are there little thing, and they want to ruin you, seeing your innocence leave you body and become a mess for them.
This person is a lot darker than pile 1, i could see them even being into bondage or other stuff within BDSM, remember that with everything in the bedroom, consent is key my loves! You absolutely don’t have to do what you wont want to! BUt, for those of you who are into that, yes, you future spouse will constantly fantasize about having their way with you, and want to indulge. Omg my! Your pile is freaky pile 2 lolll 🤤
Pile 3 ❤️🔥
5 of cups, the hanged man, the magician
Wow Pile 3, when I first got your cards, I thought, this is a sad pile, until I understood that this person is probably thinking of having sad, slow, romantic fantasies with you.
I’m going to be honest you and your FS could be broken up before you guys get back together again or they are just a naturally very sad and deep person ❤️🩹. Like I’m getting Hozier vibes from this, just very dark and angsty. They want to have lots of emotions with you and even imaging crying together with you in bed.
Overall this is a sort of strange thing, but i’m even seeing they could not have sexual experiences prior to meeting you or not give themselves up in that way before, so they could be conflicted on even what to fantasize about other than the emotions they have for you. A very interesting energy indeed.
Pile 4 ❤️🔥
4 of pentacles, the fool, ace of swords
Oh yeah, this might be my sugar daddy/mommy pile right here. 🗿🤑This person is financially stable, and their favorite fantasy is giving you that handbag you wanted and you getting on your knees in return. Not to sound transactional, actually I get this person really cherishes you, however I see money and gift giving a big aspect of their love language and one of the biggest ways they think of initiating fun sexy times with you.
This person’s fantasies aren’t nearly as emotional as the other three, i’m getting they just don’t see sexual energies in that way. They want to come and make you come. I’m getting they love when you guys laugh and talk while you use their hands to get them off. They could also be into feet play of some kind.
This person likes the happy cute moments during the act, and may compliment you endlessly during. They think you ar beautiful and want to enjoy some hedonistic pleasure with you. They might even buy some expensive aphrodisiac foods for you both to enjoy before to get in the mood, like wine. 🍷🍫
Overall honestly a cute energy lol.
#daily tarot#tarot#tarot reading#tarotblr#divine feminine#meditation#spirituality#tarotcommunity#pick a card reading#tarot cards#pick a pile#pick a card#pick a picture#pick a photo#pick a deck#tarot readings#tarot deck#future spouse#future spouse reading#love reading
656 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii can I request blue lock boys comforting their s/o thats on her period? (if your uncomfy w this than jst ignore it)
Thank you! 💕💕
YOU'RE MY COMFORT!
·˚ ༘ ꒱ summary when they comfort their s/o who's on her period
·˚ ༘ ꒱ characters isagi yoichi , bachira meguru , itoshi rin , nagi seishiro , mikage reo , chigiri hyoma , hiori yo , shidou ryusei , itoshi sae , michael kaiser , alexis ness
·˚ ༘ ꒱ warning fem!reader implied , lowercase intended
·˚ ༘ ꒱ a/n eeeek i took a kinda long hiatus after exams so sorry this was late- TT
·˚ ༘ ꒱ isagi yoichi
isagi would be so sweettttt. like he’s 100% the type to google how to make your girlfriend feel better on her period and then go overboard. he shows up at your door with snacks, a hot water bottle, and a look of absolute determination.
“babe, i got chocolate, tea, and this random teddy bear i found. will that help??”
he also tries to distract you with soccer highlights and ends up ranting about strategy while you just cuddle into him. lwk adorable.
"yoichi, i don’t need all this, i’m fine—"
"nope. it’s my job to make sure you’re 100% okay!"
"…you’re too much."
"too much in love with you? absolutely."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ bachira meguru
bachira treats your period like it’s an adventure. he calls it “battle week” and declares himself your knight in shining armor. he’s running around like a maniac, making you laugh so hard you forget the pain.
he also makes you random art to cheer you up. one time, he drew a stick figure comic of you fighting a “period dragon” with a sword made of chocolate. you almost cried laughing.
"meguru, what is this??"
"you slaying your period. literally."
"you’re so dumb… but i love it."
"mission accomplished!!!!! >:D "
·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi rin
rin is… awkward. but he triessss. when you first tell him, he just blinks and goes, "okay. what do you need?" and when you say “nothing,” he goes into silent problem-solving mode.
he might not say much, but he’ll keep you company, bring you your favorite drinks, and make sure you’re comfortable. he’s like a walking checklist. it’s so sweet how seriously he takes it.
"rin, you don’t have to—"
"you said you have a headache, so i’m staying until it stops."
"you’re so stubborn-"
"you’re welcome."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ nagi seishiro
nagi is… so chill. you tell him you’re on your period, and he’s like, "oh. okay. do you wanna nap?" because in his mind, that fixes everything.
but the second you actually need something? he’s ( surprisingly ) up and moving faster than you thought possible. he’ll even let you steal his hoodie and hog all the blankets.
"sei, can you pass me the—"
"already got it. now come back to bed."
"why are you so good at this???"
"because i'm used to this by now."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ mikage reo
reo treats it like a high-stakes situation. he buys you EVERYTHING—snacks, heating pads, your favorite drinks, and even a blanket that looks like a giant burrito.
“what else do you need? should i call a doctor? a masseuse? build you a pillow fort?”
he’s over the top ( *cough* more than usual *cough* ), but it’s so sweet you can’t even be mad.
"reo, you don’t need to do all this—"
"yes, i do. you’re in pain, and i don’t like it."
"you’re insane."
"insanely in love with you, yep."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ chigiri hyoma
chigiri is so calm and collected about it. he’s like, “i got this.” he makes you tea, rubs your back, and lets you vent about how annoying it all is.
he also takes you on peaceful walks or sits with you by the window, brushing your hair and talking about random things to keep your mind off the cramps. it’s giving romance movie vibes.
"hyoma, you’re like… weirdly good at this."
"i have a sister. i’ve trained for this moment."
"oh my god, of course you have."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ hiori yo
hiori is the gentlest bean. he’s like, “do you need anything? want me to get you soup? should we watch your favorite movie?” he’s so soft and accommodating, it’s almost ridiculous.
he also writes you little notes to cheer you up, like: “you’re stronger than cramps 💪 i believe in you!!”
"hiori, this note is so cheesy—"
"but did it make you smile?"
"…yeah, it did."
"then it worked. :D "
·˚ ༘ ꒱ shidou ryusei
shidou is chaotic as ever, but surprisingly… thoughtful? he shows up with junk food, a heating pad, and an attitude like, “let’s beat this period’s ass together.”
he’s also the type to jokingly pick a fight with your u t e r u s ( you read that right ), yelling things like: “how dare you hurt my girl?! square up, you coward!” it’s dumb, but it works.
"ryu, stop yelling at my uterus—"
"not until it apologizes."
"you’re so stupid."
"but you’re laughing, so i win."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi sae
sae is quietly attentive. he doesn’t say much, but he notices everything—like the way you hold your stomach or wince when you move. suddenly, you’ve got a hot water bottle and your favorite drink in your hand, no explanation needed.
he’ll sit with you in comfortable silence, scrolling on his phone until you’re ready to talk. it’s subtle, but you feel so cared for.
"sae, you didn’t have to get all this—"
"you’re in pain. of course i did."
"…thanks."
"don’t mention it."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ michael kaiser
kaiser is so dramatic about it. the second you tell him, he’s like, “mein gott, my poor love! what can i do?!” he acts like you're about to be taken from him.
but honestly? he’s surprisingly good at making you laugh and keeping your spirits up. he’ll even let you boss him around for the day.
"michael, stop being so dramatic—"
"i can’t help it! your pain is my pain!"
"you’re ridiculous."
"and you love me for it."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ alexis ness
ness is the sweetest little bean. he immediately offers to make you tea and snuggle on the couch with your favorite blanket. he’s like a human heater—so warm and comforting.
he also sends you texts like, “you’re doing amazing, sweetheart 💖 cramps don’t stand a chance against you!” pure angel.
"ness, you’re being so extra—"
"only because you deserve it!"
"you’re such a dork."
"your dork 🥰."
© txrully
copy/translate/plagiarize/repost my works in any way and i will be under your bed 🥰
likes + reblogs always appreciated <3
#isagi x reader#isagi yoichi#bachira x reader#bachira meguru#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi seishiro#reo mikage x reader#reo mikage#chigiri x reader#chigiri hyoma#hiori yo#hiori x reader#shidou x reader#shidou ryusei#itoshi sae#sae x reader#michael kaiser#kaiser x reader#alexis ness#ness x reader#💌 ⸝⸝ anon's ask ‹𝟹#🌷 ⸝⸝ sisi's inbox ‹𝟹#🌻 ⸝⸝ sisi's asks ‹𝟹#🩷⸝⸝ ʙʟʟᴋ ᴛʀᴇᴇ#bllk x reader#headcanon
858 notes
·
View notes
Text
First impression of your future spouse on you! - Pick a pile
Pile 1/ Pile 2



Pile 3
Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!
Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!
How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!
I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!
Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!
Pile 1
The cards I got for you (8 of wands, 8 of swords, knight of cups, 4 of wands, Strength and the 7 of cups)
Love at first sight kind of scenario like you know it's them and no questions asked, that's the first thing i felt when i started your reading, You will think of your future spouse as someone who is seductive asf and very charming, like such tired eyes, or they may have some aura of mysteriousness about them, They will be very foreign to you btw, definitely not your usual type but not in a bad way, i feel some of you might also judge them based on their appearance, like some of you might say they have that player aura or their looks are like that, I see you and them talking to each other or taking steps towards each other since the attraction will be very mutual, They will be quick or have rapid movements they maybe very fast talker or quite chatty with you they like to be quick in the decisions of their life or even with small things they don't like to waste their time, for some of you it says they can be anxious or looking troubled which goes with them having tired eyes, at first, you will think of them as someone who can be very good people, or they know how to handle the crowd lol, opposite to you but in a good way, I also see them dancing with their friends or enjoying or talking loudly, and you will just see the real them and how adorable they are, They will make a quite a first impression on you, like keeping you interested vibes, they like you and they will make sure you know, some of you may fall their intense gaze their eyes plays very important role, for some of you your future spouse will have a impression of an optimistic or a very jolly person, they might also own something luxurious or can be you, you will see your future spouse as someone who takes stands for someone or defends people, for some of you your thoughts will change a lot when you get to know them, they can be misunderstood by a lot of people, I also feel they will smile a lot with you or stealing glances at you across the room, which will make your stomach flutter with butterflies, and you would just want to go and kiss the heck out of them. They will make you fall hard for them just like they have for you. They will be quite masculine or has the nice toned body, For some of you their eyes can be fiery which will turn you on. Your future spouse may come to you and offer you something to drink or eat with them, like offering you choices they won't know what you like so they will give you options lol. For some of you your future spouse will be someone who hesitates to make a decision like you see them and they will be confused on what to order not a bad thing lol, so cute.
Pile 2
The cards I got for you (7 of pentacles, Page of wands, 9 of pentacles, page of pentacles and the moon)
You will think of your future spouse as someone who is very hardworking and independent, like they will be a type of person who depict hardworking energy like the type of person who works a lot, you also might think they are workaholic and very focused and determined type of energy, but they are not spoiled brat whatever they have in terms of money its self made and by their hard work, some of you might like their dressing sense, they look very well dressed or have nice sense of fashion which you will love, They have very balanced masculine and divine energy, and they are very confident in their body which you will think is absolutely sexy, they will seem very creative and passionate person, they will seem very well put like stable financially they will exclude that ceo vibe might be their clothes, they have nice taste, they even make less priced clothes seem luxurious lol, i feel they can be average to tall height, wavy hairs for some of you, I also feel they will use some hair gel or something when you come across them, they have small or almond eyes, soft skin or nice skin texture, i feel some of you will enjoy how they will give you their attention, literally hot, for some of you your spouse will be very private about their life unless you get to know them, they have had people who have used them or taken advantage of them so they now are a bit cautious around people or who they let in, your future spouse will also show their emotions on their face, like if they are angry , jealous it will show on their face and body language even if they won't tell you, you and them will transform each other's lives, I feel when they see you they will first know you and then after years or sometime in your relationship together they will propose to you, they want you to give the love and time.
Pile 3
The cards I got for you (The tower, temperance, the moon, the fool, 6 of wands, 4 of pentacles and the empress)
Older aura, like they will look wise at first glance, they have had their fair share of past and which has made them very wise in their life, like father or mother figure, that's how you will see them. they can be quite older than you or more mature than you, they might have very slight wrinkles if they are older or got that forehead lines, Some of you your future spouse will look chaotic or has a chaotic energy at first when you meet them, I also feel your future spouse past has made them very balanced and they have grown very much as a person, they forgive and tend to be the bigger person, as i said they are quite mature, but they distance themselves from the person or people who are not serving them, They look new ways to earn money or be stable they and to be very stable in their life, they are quite ambitious and passionate too, just like pile two, this pile future spouse can be quite mysterious or private, they also might have intense face or intimidating face, but in reality they are sweet potato lol, In their life they have gone through so many transformations in their life, you will also think of your future spouse who is as very protective and possessive not in a toxic way, but they don't like to share what's their, They can look quite adventurous or someone who likes to take risks, an young at heart person, they might like animals or cats, you will admire your spouse at very first glance because of their charming beauty, they look quite attractive, your type, little by little you will see their caring and nurturing side, when you both meet it will be a very harmonious type of meeting, and you will start seeing signs, you will see your future spouse as your lucky charm and so will they, you both will help each other grow too.
Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3
#tarotcommunity#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarot cards#witchblr#pick a card reading#pick a pile#tarot witch#thetarotwitchcommunity#futurespousereading#pac reading#love reading#pick a tarot#divine guidance#spirituality#pac#astro community#astro notes#astrology#libra placements#astro observations#pick a picture#pick one#pick a card#free tarot reading#tarot exchange#free tarot#spiritual community#thetarotwitch#spiritual awakening
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Our Quiet Christmas | jjk. (M)
You are my home, my home for all seasons.
↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader
↠ Summary : After a whirlwind year of schedules, chaos, and never-ending to-do lists, Jungkook whisks you and your daughter away to a secluded cabin for a much-needed Christmas getaway. With snowflakes falling outside and the crackling fire keeping the cold at bay, it’s the perfect chance to slow down and soak in the love that makes your little family so special… But Jungkook has more than just cosy movie nights and snowman-building in mind—he’s set on expanding your family, and he’s not exactly subtle about it. Between his playful charm, heartfelt confessions, and stolen kisses by the fire, it’s hard to resist the idea of giving Areum the sibling Jungkook can’t stop dreaming about.
↠ Genre : established relationship au, dad!jungkook x mom!reader, marriage au, comfort au, pwp
↠ Word count : 9.3K
↠ Warnings : making out, explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), riding, missionary, impregnation!kink, dirty talking, begging, dom!jungkook, sub!reader (think that’s all)
↠ A/n : hi there ; merry Christmas Eve 🎄! I hope you’re all having a restful break and enjoying the holiday period 🫶🏻 I present you soft dad!Jungkook being absolutely smitten with his family. Snowy vibes, fireplace cuddles, Jungkook being charmingly relentless about baby number two, and you trying (and failing) to resist his puppy eyes. Feedback is always appreciated & happy reading 🦢!
↠ Song : Snowman by Sia
Winter had arrived. An icy serenade surrounds you yet the warmth of love is all you feel. An old Christmas movie plays in the background and the smell of home-baking permeates the air.
Comfort, peace and solace is all you feel right now.
“This years going to be different, I can feel it in my bones.”
“Guk, baby you say that every year.”
“No no, I’m sure about this one, you see I can feel it-
“In my bones.” You both say in sync, causing Jungkook to chuckle as he brings his hand to your jaw, moving your face towards him so he can kiss you.
His lips join yours in a soft, gentle manner.
Years have passed, but every time you and Jungkook kiss, you swear you feel the same butterflies that you felt when he kissed you for the first time after your third date outside the art gallery.
Magical. That’s how you’d describe kissing Jungkook.
His lips were warm, soft, and when they touched yours, there was no rush. Jungkook deepens the kiss ever so slightly, letting the pressure build with gentle insistence, the rhythm of the kiss calm but full of intention.
The two of you are lying on the couch, legs entangled under your daughter's blanket as you watch the fireplace emit sparks of warmth, bathing the wooden interior with golden hues.
“Eomma, appa!” A voice calls out, full of pride.
Areum.
4 years old and a bundle of joy. Your bundle of joy.
“Look, I fixed it!” Areum’s tiny and soft voice breaks the quiet. She jolts into the room, clutching the wooden reindeer ornament Jungkook had given her to paint earlier this morning. It had been her project all afternoon.
The reindeer was, to put it kindly, a riot of colour - blobs of red, green, and yellow mixing like a child’s dream of Christmas. One of its legs appeared a bit wobbly, but it stood proud, just like Areum did right now, her rosy cheeks flushed with pride.
Jungkook lets out a low whistle, sitting up slightly as the blanket slips down his chest. “Wow, princess, you really did that all by yourself, mhm?”
“Mm-hm!” Areum nodded vigorously, imitating her father. Her dark hair bounces as she hurries to place it on the small mantle above the fireplace.
You smile softly at your princess, watching Jungkook’s eyes glisten with adoration like a knight in shining armour. His role as a father suits him more than you could have ever imagined. The playful glint in his gaze softens into something so reverent every time Areum enters the room.
You know confidently that she is his whole world, as much as she is yours.
“Appa, is it good?” Areum’s wide eyes sought his approval.
“Good? Baby, it’s perfect, just like you,” Jungkook says warmly, reaching for her hand and pulling her into his lap. She lets out a giggle as he peppers her face with kisses, her tiny hands swatting at his cheeks playfully.
“Go easy on her, Guk,” you tease, leaning your head against the armrest of the couch as you tuck your legs under the blanket again.
Jungkook grins at you, Areum still squirming in his arms. “I’ll stop when she says ‘my appa is the best.’”
“My appa is the best!” she squeals, breaking into a fit of laughter and reaching to kiss her fathers cheek.
A Mini Jungkook indeed.
Satisfied, Jungkook sets her down gently, watching as she scurries off to grab another decoration. He leans back on the couch with a contented sigh, the blanket once again draped over the two of you.
“You know,” he begins, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, “this is exactly what I needed. Just us. No schedules, no phone calls, no distractions.” His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone as his chocolate brown eyes hold yours, the firelight dancing in its depth.
“I know,” you softly murmur, running your fingers over the back of his hand. “This year has been so… relentless? It’s nice to just breathe and soak in the silence.”
You both sigh, snuggling into one another despite being as close as humanly possible.
“Except when Areum remembers she has parents,” you chuckle, shaking your head in laughter as you see her ornament.
Jungkook’s lips twitch into a small smile. “Speaking of Areum interrupting our silence…” He shifts even closer, his voice dropping to that low tone he uses when he wants to get under your skin. “I’ve been thinking about adding another little someone to, you know, interrupt our quiet moments. What do you think?”
Your eyes flicker to him, your breath hitching at his boldness. You contemplate playing aloof, but your husband’s abruptness stops you. “Are you serious?”
Jungkook nods, the grin on his face unmistakably cheeky now. “I mean, we’ve been talking about it for a while. And look at Areum - she’s so ready to be a big sister. Aren’t you, princess?” he called out to her.
Areum looked up from where she was arranging ornaments on the small tree by the window, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Hmm, Appa?”
“Are you ready to be a big sister, my angel?” Jungkook questions her tenderly.
“What’s that?” Areum queries, curiosity etched into every feature of her face. “How do we get one?”
You stifle a laugh, your cheeks warming. “Don’t confuse her, Guk.”
But Jungkook was undeterred, his hand sliding under your sweater to rest on your hip beneath the blanket. “Just think about it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. “Another little one resting here with us next year. Maybe a boy this time… although I wouldn’t mind another girl if she’s as perfect as Areum.”
Your heart clenches at the thought. You could picture it so clearly—a tiny baby, smaller than a bag of sugar from the grocers, cradled in Jungkook’s strong arms, Areum’s careful hands reaching out to stroke a soft cheek and your hand clutching your heart at the scene. The cabin, filled with even more love than it already is.
“You’re impossible, you know that?” you say, turning to press a peck to his jaw.
“I’m just optimistic,” Jungkook counters, his dimples showing as he smiles down at you. “And we’d be so good at it, don’t you think?”
Before you could answer, Areum runs back over, throwing herself between the two of you with an exuberant laugh. “I found the star!”
The star.
Jungkook had promised Areum that when she finds his hidden star, he will help her put it on top of the already full tree. The things this man did to get a quiet moment with you…
“Eomma, can we put it on top of the tree now?”
“Of-”
“Of course, princess,” Jungkook interrupts, sweeping her up effortlessly and carrying her to the tree.
You laugh at the father daughter interaction. Maybe you did need another baby to keep you company.
You watch the two from the couch, your chest swelling with gratitude. The year had been chaotic to say the least, but this - this simple, intimate moment right here - was everything you’d ever yearned for.
Jungkook catches your eye as he lifts Areum high enough to place the star on the tree. He gives you a knowing wink, his silent promise clear: there was more love to come.
And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to embrace it.
After the tree was decorated to Areum’s satisfaction - every inch of its branches covered in her creative flair - Jungkook carried her upstairs to put her to bed.
You decided to stay downstairs, tidying up the remnants of her crafting supplies and rearranging a few of the more precariously placed ornaments. The cabin is even quieter now, save for the occasional creak of the wooden beams and the faint sound of Jungkook’s voice drifting from the upper floor.
He’s singing to her.
It’s something Jungkook has done since Areum was a baby, and the sound of his melodic voice humming a lullaby never fails to warm your heart.
You lean against the doorway, pausing to listen. His voice, smooth and honeyed, wraps around the melody like a cosy blanket.
You carry on clearing Areum’s toys away, wanting the place to be nice and tidy before Christmas Eve tomorrow.
When Jungkook finally comes downstairs, steps light and careful, his eyes meet yours. “Out like a light,” he whispers softly as though he’s scared to wake her, running a hand through his messy hair. “I barely made it through the second verse.”
“She always loves when you sing to her,” you pout, crossing the room to take his hand. “Just like me.”
Jungkook pulls you into his arms, your cheek pressing against his welcoming chest. “I think I’ve got some magic left tonight,” he whispers in a low voice, his lips brushing your hairline.
“Oh, do you now?” you taunt, tilting your head to look up at him. “What tricks you gonna show me?”
Jungkook smirks, leaning down to capture your lips. But, before he could do so, something catches both of your attention. A faint tapping sound comes from the large bay window at the front of the cabin.
Curious, you turn towards it, only to see that snow has begun falling in earnest. The flakes were large and fluffy, blanketing the world outside in pristine white.
Jungkook steps out of your embrace, walking to the window to get a better view.
“Jagi, it’s a Christmas miracle.”
“I can’t believe it,” you run to the window, happiness like that of a child.
Jungkook stands there for a moment, his broad shoulders outlined by the golden glow of the fireplace, before turning to you with a mischievous grin. “It’s perfect. Let’s go.”
“What? Now?” you exclaim, your brows lifting in surprise. “You’re fucking crazy!”
“Why not?” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s just us, remember? No one’s here to tell us we can’t.” Jungkook pulls a funny face which you can’t help but laugh at.
You hesitate for a second, but the gleam in his eye is irresistible. Laughing, you grab your woolly coat and leather knee-high boots, following him outside into the magical winter night.
The air is crisp and sharp, biting at your cheeks and nose, but the snow truly made everything feel softer, quieter, as if the world had been wrapped in cotton wool and there was no way out. The two of you stand on the small porch, the snow crunching underfoot, watching as the forest rapidly around you transforms into a winter wonderland.
Jungkook turns to you, his eyes sparkling. “Dance with me, jagi.”
You laugh again, shivering as he grabs your hands. “There’s no music, you idiot!”
“Sure there is,” he replies swiftly, stepping closer. “Listen. The wind, the snow, the quiet. That’s all the music we need.”
Jungkook begins to sway with you, his hands warm as they enveloped yours. The two of you move slowly, his body sheltering you from the cold. Snowflakes are caught in his dark hair, his nose reddening from the chill, but he looks as handsome as ever, his smile lighting up the night.
“This is what I meant,” he hushly says, voice low and intimate. “Just us. No rush, no noise. Just you, me, our princess, and moments like this.”
You move forward to rest your head on his chest, letting the quiet envelop you both in a warm hug. Jungkook’s arms tighten around you, his chin coming to rest on your head.
“I think you might be right,” you whisper, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear.
“Right? About what, love?”
“This year being different. It already feels like it is.”
Jungkook pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes softening. “It’s different because we make it that way,” he reassures you, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “And we will keep making it better. Every year, every moment. Together.”
The snow continues to fall, and for a while, you simply stand there, swaying in the quietude, wrapped in each other’s arms. The world around you disappears, leaving only the two of you and the love that made every moment worth remembering.
Once the cold began to creep through your coats and boots, Jungkook insisted on pulling you back inside, laughing at the way your teeth chattered as you kicked off your snow-covered boots.
You now stand in the living area, shivering like a child in a cold cradle.
“I told you it was too cold,” you huff, trying to warm your hands with your breath.
“And I told you it was worth it,” he nonchalantly replies, tugging off his gloves and taking your icy hands in his. His larger palms envelop yours, the heat of his touch sending a shiver up your spine. “Better, baby?”
You nod, letting him guide you back to the couch.
Jungkook grabs the blanket you were sharing earlier, draping it over the two of you as you snuggle close, your body seeking the warmth radiating from him.
The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. Jungkook reaches for the mug of hot chocolate he’d abandoned earlier, holding it to your lips for you to sip. The sweetness and warmth spread through your chest, and you sighed in contentment, leaning back into his embrace, inhaling his woody scent.
For a while, neither of you speak, simply basking in the serene silence and your comforting presence. Jungkook rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms circling your waist as you both gazed at the fire.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks quietly, breaking the silence.
“Of course, babe.”
Jungkook hesitates for a moment, his thumb absently tracing circles on your hip. “I meant what I said earlier, you know? About wanting another baby.”
You turn slightly to look at him, your brow lifting in curiosity. “Really?”
“Yes,” he says confidently, his eyes soft but steady. “Areum’s growing up so fast, and every time I see her smile or hear her laugh, I think… we made that. You and me. She’s this perfect little person, and I can’t help but think how amazing it would be to do it all over again.”
Your heart swells at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it impossible to brush off the idea. You’d talked about it in passing before, but the way he spoke now felt different.
Earnest. Hopeful. Loving.
“You make it sound so easy,” you chuckle, though your voice was softer than you intended.
Jungkook snickers, his breath warm against your neck. “I know it’s not. The sleepless nights, the mess, the chaos… but it’s worth it, isn’t it? Every bit of it. I mean, just look at what we’ve already got.”
Your gaze flicks to the staircase, where you could just imagine Areum fast asleep in her bed, her little chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm.
“You’re right,” you admit, turning back to him. “She’s the best thing we’ve ever done.”
Jungkook leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “And we can do it again,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin. “If you’re ready, of course.”
Your eyes meet his, searching them for any trace of doubt, but there is none. Only love and unwavering belief in the life you’d built together.
A soft smile tugs at your lips. “Maybe,” you say, your tone playful but your heart already leaning towards yes. “We’ll see.”
Jungkook’s grin widens, the dimple in his cheek making an appearance. “That’s not a no.”
Jungkook’s persistence was truly admirable.
“It’s not a yes either,” you counter, however, you can’t stop yourself from laughing as Jungkook leans in to kiss you, his hands sliding up your back.
“You’ll come around,” he mutters against your lips, voice low and teasing. “You always do.”
“Don’t get ahead yourself, mister,” you chuckle as you move to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
The fire crackles before you, its warmth matching the heat building between you.
Jungkook’s kisses deepen, his hands tighten their hold on you, and for a moment, the world fades again, leaving only the two of you in your little cocoon of love.
But then a soft cry breaks the moment, drifting down from upstairs.
“Eomma? Appa?”
You both freeze before pulling back with identical smiles, your foreheads pressed together.
“Think she had a dream,” Jungkook utters, his voice laced with affection.
“Your turn,” you whisper, nudging him gently.
Your husband groans in mock protest but stands fairly quickly, tossing the blanket aside. “Fine. But you owe me.”
“I think we’re even,” you tease, watching as he heads towards the stairs.
Jungkook pauses halfway up, turning to look back at you with a smile so warm it rivals the firelight. “We’ll pick up this conversation later.”
You laugh softly, pulling the blanket tighter around you as he disappears upstairs. The fire continues its steady crackle, and you lean back into the couch, your heart full as you listen to Jungkook’s soft voice comforting Areum.
It was in moments like this - simple, unassuming, and utterly filled with love - that you realised you’d already found everything you’d ever wanted. And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to grow it a little more.
The cabin is quiet again.
You hear Jungkook’s footsteps, soft, as he makes his way back down the stairs. Areum must have settled quite quickly.
You are still curled up on the couch, the firelight painting your skin with a warm glow as you scroll through TikTok.
Jungkook pauses at the end of the staircase, leaning on the banister for a moment, his eyes fixated on you.
“You’re staring,” you sing, your lips curving into a lazy smile.
“Can’t help it,” he replies, pushing off the banister and crossing the room to sit beside you. “I have the most beautiful wife in the world.”
“You always know what to say,” you taunt, resting your head against his shoulder as he pulls the blanket back over both of you.
His arm comes around you, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm. “What can I say? I’m a man in love.”
The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, scrolling through your FYP as the fire crackles softly, a contrast to the snow that continues to fall outside.
Jungkook’s hand never stops moving, his touch soothing and intimate, as if he needed to keep that connection to you at all times.
“You know,” he interrupts the silence eventually, voice deep, “when I first thought about taking you and Areum out here, I wasn’t sure if I’d done the right thing. It’s so… quiet.”
“Mhm?” You urge him to continue.
“Another part of me felt bad for leaving our family, but…” Jungkook pauses, trying to find the right words.
“It was exactly what we needed,” you finish his sentence for him, softly, nuzzling into his side.
“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t realise how much I needed it too. Being here with you, with her… it’s like everything else has immediately faded. All that stress, the busyness, it just doesn’t matter anymore.”
You tilt your head up to look at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his expression. “Guk, you have worked so so hard for us. For everything. You deserve this time just as much as we do.”
Jungkook knew in that moment that you were his comforting love. The fort that comes in advance of danger. His protection before the need for that even arises. For you, he was the softest thing in the universe. There was a solace in feeling the goodness of your soul. You always carried a gentle certainty that Jungkook was born to absorb and accept love.
People had always told you, you were lucky to have Jungkook. But Jungkook knew, he was luckier to have you.
He meets your gaze, his dark eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken but understood. “You make it all worth it,” he says in simple words.
You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. His lips linger on yours, slow and tender, as if he were trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into that single moment.
When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your cheek. “I know I keep bringing it up, but… I really can’t stop thinking about another baby,” he whispers, his voice tinged with both hope and hesitation.
You laughed tenderly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”
“Only because I know how good we’d be at it,” he argues, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “And if I’m being honest, I’m kind of selfish. I want more moments like this. More little hands to hold, more giggles filling the house. And more time with you, building this life together.”
Your heart clench’s at his words, the integrity in his tone making it impossible to tease him this time.
“What if I said yes?” you ask quietly, your voice barely audible over the fire’s crackle. A newfound shyness came over you.
Jungkook’s breath hitches, his eyes widening slightly as he pulls back to look at you fully. “You mean it?”
You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “I’ve been thinking about it too. And you’re right… Areum deserves to have a little partner in crime. And I…” You trail off, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “I think I’d love to see you holding another baby of ours. To see our family grow.”
The smile that spread across Jungkook’s face was brighter than anything you’d seen all night. He let out a breathless laugh, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispers against your hair.
You cackle, your arms wrapping around his neck. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
Jungkook pulls back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You’re incredible, you know that? I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you reply, swatting lightly at his chest. “If anything, I don’t deserve you.”
“We’ll just have to agree that we’re both pretty lucky,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you again.
This time, the kiss is deeper, filled with promises and excitement for the future you’d just agreed to build together. The fire burns low in the hearth, and outside, the snow continues to fall, blanketing the cabin in a hush that seemed to echo the love you shared.
When you finally pull apart, you settle back into his arms, the blanket cocooning you both.
“So… when should we start?” Jungkook asks, his voice light but laced with mischief.
You laugh, swatting at his chest again. “How about we enjoy the rest of this quiet night first?”
“Fair enough,” he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
As the fire’s glow dims and the snow piled high outside, you close your eyes, the steady rhythm of Jungkook’s heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful slumber. And though the night was quiet, your dreams were filled with the sound of tiny feet and laughter, and the warmth of a love that felt boundless.
It was now 1AM.
The two of you were awake again.
The cabin was silent save for the soft crackle of the flames. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in the same blanket that had been your haven all evening, Jungkook’s arm draped lazily across your shoulders.
His fingers trailed absent patterns along your arm, the touch light but deliberate, sending tiny shivers over your skin. You lean further into him, sighing in contentment as your head rests against his chest.
“I love this,” you say softly, the words barely audible over the quiet.
“This?” he questions, his voice low and warm.
“Us,” you clarify, tilting your head to look up at him. “This moment. It feels… perfect.”
Jungkook’s lips quirk into a small, almost boyish smile as he leans down to kiss your forehead. “It’s because we are perfect,” he teases, his voice teasing but laced with sincerity.
You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. “Confident?”
“Always,” he replies, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers linger against your cheek, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.
The mood shifts subtly but unmistakably.
Jungkook’s hand slides down, his fingers grazing your jaw before settling at the nape of your neck. He leans in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens, his other hand slipping around your waist to pull you inevitably closer.
The blanket falls slightly as you shift to become more comfortable in your husband’s embrace. Your hands find their way to Jungkook’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms. He groans softly against your plush lips, his fingers tightening their hold as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss further.
Kissing Jungkook always felt so poetic. In the emotions of his kisses, you could understand a language so passionate, it transcended the works of the greatest poets combined.
When your husband finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing slightly uneven. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he admits, his voice husky and low.
“Thinking about what?” you ask, though the heat in his gaze is leaving very little room for doubt.
Jungkook grins, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “About how much I want you.” He kisses your forehead.
“About how much I love you.” He kisses the tip of your nose.
“And…” He pauses, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “About how nice it would be to give Areum a little sibling.” Jungkook leans forward to capture your lips again, but you swiftly pull him back by his luscious brown tresses.
Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by his boldness. “Jungkook!” you laugh, swatting lightly at his chest, your cheeks warming at the suggestion.
“What?” he asks innocently, though his grin only widens. “I’m just reminding you that you said yes.”
“I-“
He cut you off with another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate. More urgent.
And when he pulls back, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe I can convince you tonight.”
Your heart races at the low, teasing tone of his voice. His hand slips beneath the hem of your sweater, his touch warm against your skin as he traces light patterns along your back.
“You’re crazy,” you whine, though your voice lacked any real protest.
Jungkook chuckles, his breath hot against your neck. “Only because I know how amazing we are together. And because I love the idea of us growing our little family.”
The sincerity in his words melts any resistance you might have had, and you find yourself leaning into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.
“You wanna start trying already?” you ask softly, your lips brushing against his.
Jungkook pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes filled with excitement and love. “Well, we shouldn’t waste any time.”
You laugh, your heart full as you let him guide you closer, his lips capturing yours once again. The fire burns low, its warmth nothing compared to the heat between the two of you.
“Let’s head upstairs,” Jungkook says as he pulls away. “I want to do this properly.”
You eyes soften as you nod. Preparing yourself for the night to stretch on, knowing it will be filled with whispered promises of love and … filth.
The bedroom is dimly lit, the only light coming from the crackling fire in the hearth and the glow of the Christmas lights strung around the bed. The air is warm, thanks to the fireplace, and is scented with the faint aroma of pine and cinnamon.
Jungkook sets you down on the ground gently, his hands lingering on your hips as he steps back to admire you. Your red sweater and matching skirt make you look like a holiday gift, and he couldn’t wait to unwrap you.
“Take it off,” he commands, voice calm yet husky. “Slowly.”
Your cheeks warm, but you obey, your hands moving to the hem of your sweater. You peel it off inch by inch, revealing the lacy black bra underneath.
The universe was on your side.
Jungkook’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening as he watches you. When you finally toss the sweater aside, his hands are on you again, thumbs brushing over the lace before slipping beneath it to cup your breasts.
“You look beautiful,” he declares, voice low yet you are still able to sense that it is thick with emotion.
A smile tugs at your lips as you glance up at him. Jungkook moves closer, lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“So beautiful,” he whispers, his voice a velvety caress that makes your skin prickle with heat.
You laugh softly, leaning into him. “It feels like our first time all over again,” you say, heart racing.
“Does it?” he asks, although you know he isn’t looking for an answer.
The air between you and your husband is thick.
Thick with anticipation.
The low flicker of the fire casts a light shadow across his features as he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world. One hand rests on your hip, his grip firm yet gentle, as he thumbs at the band of your lacy underwear. The other is wrapped around your waist, holding you close as though he’s scared you’re about to get away.
You gaze at one another with eyes full of love.
Jungkook is a drug. Your drug. One touch from him and the intoxication is instant. It always has been.
This man could tell you to do anything, absolutely anything, and that is exactly what you would do. His gaze, his scent, his everything sends you into a heady trance.
You guide his digits to your centre, your sticky core waiting for him. Jungkook rubs your soaked lacy underwear, groaning deeply as he takes in your wetness.
“And I thought it was just me who was excited,” he whispers in an indulging tone, voice rich with lust as he draws you closer with his free hand, lips finding yours. “Look at you, angel, you’re fucking drenched.”
You respond by pulling him closer by dark tendrils, capturing his lips against yours. The kiss starts slow, tender, but it doesn’t take long for the heat to intensify.
Jungkook’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, angling your face as his lips move against yours, each kiss growing deeper, hungrier. Your fingers tangle in his soft strands as you tug gently, earning another low groan from your husband, vibrating against your mouth.
“Jungkook…” you whine between kisses, your body starting to need more.
Before you can say anything else, his hands are on your waist, lifting you effortlessly like you weigh absolutely nothing. Jungkook carries you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours, and when your back hits the mattress, the world tilts slightly.
You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another. And then? Then Jungkook is all business.
Pulling your underwear off, he begins by kissing from your toes upward, slowly, his hands on your legs, always inching just a little higher than the kisses he plants.
Your back arches in anticipation, knowing where his fingers will soon reach. And as he does, your head rocks against the fluffy pillow, the first moan escaping your lips.
Jungkook hovers above you, one knee pressing into the bed. His dark hair falls forward, brushing against your skin as he leans in, his lips trailing from your mouth to your jawline and then lower, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your neck before pulling back slightly.
The mattress dips beneath his weight as he shifts, his free hand bracing beside your head. You feel the tension in his body - the strength in his arms as he hovers above you, the control in every deliberate movement - and it’s intoxicating.
Your hands roam down his back, tracing the lean muscles. The firelight casts golden shadows across his bare chest, highlighting every dip and curve, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.
He smirks, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips brushing yours as he teases, “See something you like?”
You roll your eyes, but your laughter catches in your throat as his mouth claims yours again. The kiss is hotter, slower, more deliberate, pulling you further under his spell. His hands explore every inch of you, mapping your body as though he’s determined to remember every detail, his touch setting your nerves alight.
“You’re irresistible,” Jungkook groans, the sound itself sending you into a deep spiral.
He bends down, his mouth capturing one nipple through the fabric, sucking gently until you arch into him, another moan escaping your lips, louder this time. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavishes attention on your other breast, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive peak.
Arching into him, you massage his scalp and moan pleasurably as he prods at your nipple with his scandalous tongue. He fondles your other breast, kneading it which has you sighing out in bliss.
“Oh fuck, I love your tongue,” you whine gratifyingly whilst he continues his soft assault on your breast, sucking and tugging at your nipples lewdly. Your fingers inch further into his hair when you feel him jut his tongue out, licking around the soft area.
Jungkook moves to place kisses between the valley of your breasts, making his way further down your sexy body, still fondling your breasts delightly. You arch further into him, half-lidded gaze peering down at him, massaging his scalp whilst he perfectly nips at your smooth skin, ascending you to cloud nine.
Sighing out in sheer ecstasy, you tug Jungkook closer to you. His hand canvases down your body, cupping your soaked sex in his palm.
You let out a scandalised gasp, gut filling with heat.
“Always so fucking wet, princess,” Jungkook groans as he glides his two fingers through your tight cunt. You brace yourself on his broad shoulders, breathing heavily and Jungkook revels in each sultry sound that leaves your pretty mouth.
“J-just for you,” you manage to whimper out as his fingers skim around your battered mound. Jungkook begins to push your legs apart and releases a satisfied hum when he sees how soaked your cunt is for him.
Jungkook pulls back, winking at you before moving forward to kiss down your body. To where you need him most. His lips adorn every inch of your body and your core ignites when you feel him reach closer to your already naked sex.
Jungkook’s eyes locking onto yours as he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. The garment falls, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. His hands roam over your body, tracing every curve, every dip, while his lips replaced his fingers, kissing and nibbling along your collarbone, your shoulders, your throat.
“You’re mine,” he growls against your skin, his voice vibrating through you. “All mine.”
You shudder from the cold, now completely naked, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he hovers above you. His fingers trail down your stomach, stopping just above where you need him most. He glances up at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief before his fingers dipped lower, sliding through your folds.
“So wet for me,” he groans, voice dripping with possessiveness. He circles your clit once, twice, before delving inside you, his fingers thrusting deep as he continues to stroke your most sensitive spot.
Jungkook’s thumb was gentle yet insistent as he traced lazy circles around your clit, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You lay back against the plush pillows, your breath hitching as he leans over you, his dark eyes smoldering with desire. His lips brushes against your ear, his voice low and husky as he whispers, “Everyone will see you swollen and know I’ve fucked you.”
You moan, unable to form words as his fingers dip inside you, teasingly slow at first.
Jungkook watches your face intently, his thumb pressing against your clit in a rhythm that has you arching off the bed. “You’re so hot,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. “So ready to be bred.”
His fingers move faster now, scissoring inside you while his mouth trailed kisses along your jawline. “Tell me,” he demands, his tone commanding yet laced with tenderness. “Tell me how much you want this.”
“Yes,” you gasp, your hips instinctively meeting his hand. “I want… I want you so bad.”
Jungkook chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Not just me,” he corrected, his voice growing deeper. “You want our baby. Tell me.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as the weight of his words settles over you. “I do,” you admit, voice trembling. “I want - oh, God ; I want everything with you.”
Jungkook’s eyes are coloured with a shade of satisfaction, as he adds in another one of his delicious fingers, satiating your ache for more.
You cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure seeps through you. Jungkook’s free hand moves to your plump ass, squeezing roughly as his fingers pick up speed, plunging in and out of you with increasing urgency.
“Tell me,” he demands, his voice gruff. "Tell me who’s got you soaked."
“You,” you croon, your voice breaking. “I’m wet for you.”
At your words, he stands, lifting you once again and placing you on the edge of the mattress. His fingers leave your aching core, and you only hope it is replaced by his mouth, the image of his tongue lapping at you with fervor making you shudder.
You cry out his name, your back arching as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.
Jungkook moves his head in front of your cunt, breathing against it deeply, knowing the sensation of his hot breath would spur you on further.
And it certainly does.
You jerk rapidly as Jungkook places a kiss to your clit and your insides constrict, anticipating his next ministration.
“Can I eat you out?,” Jungkook huskily asks. He knows how tired you must be, so he ensures he’s safe to go ahead. Your chest swells with butterflies, in awe of how caring your husband is.
You move forward and cup his cheek, urging him to look towards you. You smile at him brightly, nodding your head and place a quick peck against his swollen lips.
Jungkook is quick to get back in position, paying attention to your leaking cunt again. He lifts your legs over his shoulders, letting them rest there daintily. You lean back, palms planted on the mattress beneath you as you savour the view before you.
Your sexy husband stands before you with his exposed, tanned and Apollo-sculpted body ready to devour you whole. Jungkook breathes against your folds and you quiver with arousal. His hands massage the inside of your thighs, calming your anticipation.
“My wife’s so pretty,” he whispers before moving to press a gentle kiss on your clit. You shudder at the sensitivity, bucking your hips into his face, yearning for more.
You run your fingers through his dark tresses, tightening your grip on his scalp. “Jungkook, pleasee,” you whine, arching into him more in the hopes that he’ll provide you with some form of relief.
“Patience baby,” Jungkook murmurs before jutting out the tip of his tongue and lightly tracing your nether lips. You squirm, moaning his name shamelessly and uttering soft pleas as you mentally pine for more contact from his skillful tongue. Jungkook feels more turned on as he hears you become more needy despite him not having done very much.
“I’ve got you, princess,” he growls before licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He latches onto your quivering cunt, making out with it and sucking on your labia. Jungkook buries himself further as he gathers your slickness on his tongue. You mewl at the euphoric sensation his tongue supplies and he provides you with no mercy as he eats you up with his masterful tongue.
Bucking your hips closer to his face, you wordlessly beg for more and Jungkook abides almost immediately, lapping at your folds like a starved man. He flattens his tongue against your cunt, generously sucking on the pulsing bud. Jungkook groans at the sweet flavour of your juices that has you reeling for more.
He repeatedly licks up your slit shamelessly, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his own neck with no care in the world. He basks in the mess between your legs, chest swelling with pride as he realises it’s all for him. Only him.
“Fuck,” he moans into your cunt, “your pussy always tastes so good. Fucking missed this,” he says as if he hadn’t woken you up by eating you out this morning.
His large, tattooed hands fail to stay still. They move from holding your thighs apart to having a tight grip on your ass, pulling you further into him.
“L-love seeing your face between my thighs,” you manage to voice weakly.
“I know you do,” Jungkook replies whilst bringing his thumb to rub against your aching clit. You rut your hips in his face, head falling back as the pleasure washes over you.
“Jungkoook, fuckk.”
He buries himself closer into your pulsing folds, nose burrowed deep within. Your hips develop a mind of their own and you begin to grind against his face, practically riding it. Jungkook hums satisfyingly as he moves his hands to rest on your ass again. He probes you forward and rocks your hips back and forth against his face making you grab a fistful of his hair, earning a slight hiss from him.
His hooded eyes meet your own and you send a lazy smirk his way as you rut your hips against his face. Your wetness from riding his nose, chin and tongue glistens on his skin which somehow turns you on more.
“Ahh shit,” you cry out, internally thanking the Heavens above that your cabin is located in a secluded area. You only hope Areum doesn’t wake up.
Whilst you continue to ride his face, Jungkook licks up and around your folds ravenously and his fingers bore into the meat of your ass.
He angles himself better and secures his lips down around your mound, dragging his tongue around until he latches onto your sensitive clit again. You moan lewdly and lurch when you feel Jungkook press his devious tongue against your throbbing bud.
“I’m gonna come!” You cry out, riding his face at a faster pace and your grip on his hair becoming tighter. Jungkook suckles your clit, tongue running through your folds, providing you with eons of paradisiacal pleasure. He shoves his face deeper into your cunt, violently capturing it with his plush, swollen lips and his grasp on you becomes harder.
You feel him smirk against you before he brings those bunny teeth of his and bites down on your clit. Your body jolts at the impact, but still manages to send hot, orgasmic spikes of arousal through your veins.
“Oh fuck,” you sharply moan, the need to come undone too prominent now.
“Come for me, angel,” he coos at you, hands moving to soothe your lower back. His dulcet voice does it for you and you feel your orgasm wash over you vigorously. Your hips grind against your husband's stupidly handsome face and he laps at your palpitating pussy.
Your mind spins and stomach bubbles as you come down from your high. Jungkook continues his assault, lapping at thecum that stains your cunt before he pulls away. You meet his desperate eyes, shimmering lips and a scandalous grin as he pants harshly.
You beckon him to you eagerly, hands growing taxed as you reach for his sweaty neck and pull him in for an all too chaste kiss. Smothering your mouth with his, you groan as you taste your essence on his enticing lips.
You devour his mouth, nibbling at his plump lower lip.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect.”
You chuckle at him simping over you once again, tugging him closer. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and continue to mouth at him languidly, tongues tangling together.
Jungkook smiles against you, gushing at your sudden boldness. He runs his hand up and down the expanse of your back, gleefully continuing to make out with you.
But he isn’t done yet. When you were teetering on the brink, Jungkook pulls away, standing and stripping off his own clothes in seconds. His cock is hard and throbbing, and you can’t help but reach for him, your fingers curling around his length.
“Not yet,” he growls, stepping back. Jungkook positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance.
“Look at me,” he commands, his eyes boring into yours. “I’m fucking you full of my cum tonight.”
With that, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he claims you, his hips snapping forward with brutal precision. Every thrust is deliberate, every movement calculated to bring you both to the edge.
Jungkook’s hands grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans, voice ragged. “Always so tight and ready for her husband.”
You cling to him, legs wrapping around his slim waist as you meet every thrust, your bodies moving as one. The tension between you is electric, crackling in the air as you both race toward release.
Then, without warning, Jungkook pulls out, flipping you onto your back and positioning himself between your legs once more. He grabs hold of your hips, lifting you slightly before slamming back into you.
“Ride me,” he demands with his sultry voice.
“Jungkook!” you cry, your hips rising to meet his, your body instinctively obeying his command. You shift your position, your core contracting around him as you take control, riding him with everything you had.
“Jungkook, you fuck me so good.”
“I know baby, I know,” he says, almost condescendingly.
Jungkook’s hands grips your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he guides you with precision. You feel the intensity of his desire in every movement, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Ride your husband’s dick like you mean it.” His voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine.
You obey without hesitation, rising slowly at first, the sensation of him inside you igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce gently with each upward motion, the weight of them reminding you of how close you both are to this shared dream.
Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours, his dark irises locked onto your gaze as if he can see straight into your soul. There is no doubt that he probably could.
“Faster,” he urges, his hand moving from your hip to your thigh, encouraging you to pick up the pace. You comply, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusted to the rhythm.
The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies colliding, the slap of flesh against flesh echoing softly. Jungkook’s other hand finds your breast, kneading it roughly as his thumb brushed across your nipple, sending electric shocks through your system.
“Do you feel how ready you are for me?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with possessive heat. “Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me.” His words sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, and you can’t help but moan loudly, your head falling back as you surrender to the sensations.
Jungkook takes advantage of your distracted state, shifting his hold on you and flipping you onto your back once more. His chest pressed against yours, his weight grounding you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.
“Tell me you want this,” he demands, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. “Tell me you want my baby.”
The intensity of his question catches you off guard, but the truth is already bubbling up from deep within you. “Yes,” you whine, clutching at his shoulders as his thrusts grow more urgent. “I want you, I want this… want us.”
His response is rough, hips snapping forward as he drives into you with renewed vigor. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with arousal.
“So good for me.” He reaches between you, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in circles that synced perfectly with his movements.
You cry out, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure builds higher and higher. Jungkook’s hand moves again, this time slipping lower, two fingers pressing into you alongside his cock. “God, you’re so wet for me,” he notes, voice strained. “So ready to become a mother again.”
The combination of his fingers and his cock was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your body lighting up like a firework. You can feel the orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.
“Jungkook!” you scream his name, your body convulsing around him as you come, stars bursting behind your closed eyelids.
He doesn’t stop, not even for a second. If anything, his movements become more intense, his breathing ragged as he chases his own release. “Stay with me, baby,” he commanded, his voice gravelly. “Don’t let go yet.”
You cling to him, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as he continues to pound into you, his fingers still working their magic. “Almost there,” he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his climax. “Almost…”
And then he freezes, his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, his seed spilling into you with an urgency that betrays his desperation to make this moment real. “Mine,” he says roughly, voice breaking as he collapses onto you, his breathing heavy.
For a long moment, neither of you speak, the only sound heard is the rapid beating of your combined hearts.
Jungkook’s lips find yours, kissing you deeply as if sealing the promise they had just made.
“This is just the beginning,” he whispers against your lips, his voice filled with conviction.
“Our family starts here,” Jungkook affirms, caressing your hips softly.
The morning sun crept over the horizon, its golden rays slipping through the cabin’s frosted windows and telling you a story that today will be a perfect day.
You stir first, the soft glow coaxing you from the cocoon of blankets. Jungkook is still fast asleep beside you, his face relaxed in a way that makes your heart swell. His hair was tousled, his lips slightly parted, one arm flung protectively over your waist as if even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go.
Careful not to wake him, you shift slightly, your gaze falling on the fireplace across the room. The embers had long since died, leaving a bed of ash that glowed faintly in the morning light. Outside, the snow glittered like diamonds, untouched and pristine.
Last night replays in your mind, every whispered word and shared touch lingering like a secret promise. A soft blush warms your cheeks as you rest a hand on your stomach, wondering, hoping.
Before your thoughts spiral further, Jungkook groans beside you, his arm tightening around you as his eyes flutter open. He blinks a few times, his face slowly breaking into a sleepy smile as he finds you watching him.
“Morning,” he sighs, his voice rough with sleep.
“Morning, baby,” you respond, brushing a strand of hair from his face and leaning in to kiss his forehead.
Jungkook leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed again for a brief moment. “You’re glowing,” he says softly, cracking one eye open to peek at you.
You chuckle, shaking your head. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true,” Jungkook pronounces confidently, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch. “Last night…” His voice trails off, a grin spreading across his face. “Let’s just say I think we’ve got good odds.”
Your stomach turns at the memory of Jungkook fucking you so intensely. You’d been at it most of the night, Jungkook wanting to try as many positions as possible. Your husband's stamina was as high as the chances of you being pregnant already.
“Confident, are we?” you tease, though your heart is still skipping at the thought.
“With you? Always.”
The two of you lay there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other and the promise of what was to come. Eventually, the sound of tiny feet padding down the stairs broke the peaceful quiet.
“Eomma!” Areum’s voice calls out, bright and cheerful.
Jungkook groans dramatically, burying his face in your neck. “She’s too good at waking up early,” he mumbles, making you laugh. “I thought I might be lucky enough to have you ride me into being fully awake.”
“Come on,” you chuckle, nudging him playfully. “I’ll ride you later.”
With a sigh and a mumble of ‘you better’, Jungkook rolls out of bed, grabbing a pair of fresh boxers from the open suitcase and tossing his hoodie to you.
“Get it on, we don’t need to show her our anatomy just yet.”
You chuckle, quickly slip the hoodie over your head, before padding out to meet Areum, who stands at the bottom of the stairs clutching her favourite stuffed bunny.
“There’s snow everywhere!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with excitement.
“I know, princess,” Jungkook brightly says, scooping her up into his arms. “Maybe after breakfast, we can go outside and build the biggest snowman you’ve ever seen.”
“Really?” Areum’s face lit up, her joy infectious. “Bigger than the one at yoonie samchon’s house?”
“Of course,” he replies, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Ours will be much better.”
That competitive streak will never die.
You watch them with a soft smile, the sight of Jungkook cradling her so naturally makes your heart ache in the best way.
“Eomma, you’ll help too, right?” Areum asks, turning her bright eyes on you as she finally notices your presence.
“Of course,” you warmly respond, reaching out to take her into your arms. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
As the three of you settle into the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes filling the air. A quiet sense of peace lingers and you feel whole.
Jungkook catches your eye over the rim of his coffee mug, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. He didn't say anything, but he didn’t need to. You knew. You always did.
Whatever the future held, whatever new adventures or challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together.
And maybe, just maybe, there was already a tiny spark of new life waiting to join your little family.
A Quiet Christmas was exactly what you needed.
You reach for your phone, capturing a photo of your husband and Areum scrunching their noses as they laugh at one another.
The photo is quick to make it to your instagram, with a sweet caption that summarises it all.
Our Quiet Christmas.
And there we have it! I hope dad!jk made you feel as cosy as I felt writing this 🦢! Merry Christmas, my loves ; I hope you have a wonderful Christmas 🎄.
Here is my masterlist if you would like to check out my other works <3
↠ Taglist : @iamstilljk @lovingkoalaface @kooeuphoria @jeonsgf-97 @taeskrve @freshmoondragon (names in italics - I was unable to tag)
#bts fics#jungkook fics#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook one shot#jungkook drabbles#bts oneshots#bts pwp#jungkook pwp
504 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okokok, can I request Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, and Michael Myers with a s/o that’s just super stereotypically feminine? Like, she hates bugs and getting messy, loves pink and makeup, says words like ‘totes’ ‘adorbs’ and ‘obvi’, loves shopping, etc.? Sorry if it’s super vague ;-; but I’d love to see it in your writing style ♡
Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt & Michael Myers with a Super Stereotypically Feminine S/O (SEPARATE)
Summary: Imagine Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt and Michael Myers with a stereotypically overly feminine S/O who only wears pink, cute things, hates bugs and dirt and speaks in a city girl language.
A/N: I really loved writing this request, it was great to see the dynamics of these slashers with a super feminine S/O, I wrote it listening to Sabrina Carpenter and Fifty Fifty to get more into the mood. I hope you like it as much as I did.
Bo Sinclair
“If it’s pink and sparkly, it’s probably already in her purse.”
Bo Sinclair never expected a girl like you to waltz into Ambrose. Hell, he wouldn’t have believed someone like you existed, much less would stay.
You were all fluttery lashes, bubblegum lip gloss, and sparkly earrings shaped like hearts. When you first stumbled into the wax museum, looking absolutely horrified by the “rustic aesthetic,” he expected you to start screaming bloody murder. Instead, you blinked at him, tilted your head like a curious little kitten, and said:
“You’d be super hot if you smiled more. Like, dangerous bad boy vibes. I dig it.”
Bo had no idea what to say. It might’ve been the first time he’d ever been stunned silent.
You hated dirt, bugs, blood—literally everything Ambrose was soaked in. You gasped when your heel broke on the cracked sidewalk and clutched him dramatically like they were in a soap opera. “Bo, I’m limping. You’re gonna have to carry me. This is a whole crisis!”
At first, he rolled his eyes. A lot. Teased you constantly. Called you "Barbie" and "Princess" with a smug little grin.
But over time, something changed.
He started noticing how you lit up talking about stuff he’d never cared about before—nail polish shades, the drama of lipstick undertones, reality TV betrayals. You’d sit cross-legged on his dusty bed, wearing fuzzy socks and ranting about your favorite fashion influencers while applying glitter highlighter in a cracked mirror. Bo would sit there, arms crossed, pretending not to listen... even though he always was.
You'd make him stand still so you could “fix his eyebrows” or “just a little bronzer, babe, for definition!” and Bo would grumble but let you do it. The way your eyes sparkled when you were focused on something—especially him—made it real damn hard to say no.
And as much as he tried to play it cool, Bo adored the way you clung to him when a beetle skittered across the floor, squealing and climbing half up his torso like he was your knight in dirty denim armor.
"You're lucky you're cute," he'd mutter, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"Obvi," you’d giggle, pressing a glossy kiss to his cheek and leaving a shiny mark he never wiped off until you weren't looking.
You gave Ambrose something it hadn’t had in years—life, noise, glitter in every corner of the wax museum (much to Vincent’s quiet suffering). Your pink hairbrush sat next to his tools. Your perfume mixed with motor oil. There were rhinestones on the old radio dials in his car.
And when some poor bastard stumbled into town and made a snide comment about “that bimbo clinging to Bo like a chihuahua,” Bo didn’t even give a warning. He just grabbed the guy by the collar, smiled wide, and said, “Say one more word. Go on. I dare you.”
He’d never say it out loud, but Bo loved you fiercely. Loved your dramatics, your soft hands, the way you made him feel like a movie star instead of a wax museum reject.
And if anyone touched you? God help them.
Even if you’d never lift a finger yourself (“I don’t do violence—it’s so bad for the nails, babe”), Bo was more than willing to handle it for you.
Because at the end of the day, you were his ridiculous, high-maintenance, adorable nightmare—and he wouldn't change a single thing about you.
Bonus: The Shopping Trip (Against Bo’s Will)
Bo Sinclair in a mall was the equivalent of dropping a pitbull into a ballet studio.
He was stiff, annoyed, and visibly scowling, while you pranced from one boutique to the next, holding up clothes and saying things like “This screams me, doesn’t it?” and “Bo, look at this! It’s like a skirt, but with fur!”
Every time he tried to retreat to a bench, you’d call him over with a squeal: “Babe! You have to hold my purse, I’m going to try this on!”
Bo, standing in a women’s boutique holding a pink bedazzled purse with a small chihuahua keychain on it, was a sight to behold. Some teenage girls giggled as they passed by. He gave them a slow death-glare that shut them up instantly.
And then you stepped out of the fitting room wearing something way too short, way too sparkly, and totally you.
Bo’s jaw tightened. “You’re not wearin’ that in public.”
“Why not?” You asked, twirling. “Too hot for you?”
Bo reached for his wallet. “…We’re buyin’ it. But you only wear it in the damn house.”
You grinned like you won a war. “So possessive. Kinda hot.”
.
Thomas Hewitt + Family
“Tommyyyy! There's a bug in the kitchen and it’s HUGE—oh my god, baby, I need you to handle it like, right now!”
Thomas had never met anyone like you.
You waltzed—actually waltzed—into the Hewitt family's dusty, decrepit home like a princess misplaced in a horror movie. Pink suitcase, heart-shaped sunglasses, fluffy keychains, lip gloss glinting like wet sugar on her pout. Your clothes were always perfectly matched, your hair always done, and you wore perfume that made you smell like cotton candy and cherry soda.
To the rest of the world, you were obnoxiously girly, with your dramatic hand gestures, and constant stream of Valley Girl slang. But to Tommy? You were pure, sweet light.
You squealed at bugs and cobwebs, refused to step into the kitchen barefoot, and definitely did not want to see “where the meat was made.” But instead of being cruel or judgmental, you’d wrinkle your nose and go:
"Ew, okay, I’m like, gonna pretend that doesn’t exist—but you’re still the cutest murder bear I’ve ever seen."
And Thomas, who had always been seen as a monster, didn’t know how to process someone calling him cute. His usual instinct was to back away, but you wouldn’t let him. You’d follow him around the house in your slippers with fuzzy pom-poms on top, chattering about skincare and outfit inspo and "how maybe this place could really pop if we added just a little pastel wallpaper."
When you first tried to hug him, Thomas froze—like a deer caught in headlights. No one touched him like that. No one wanted to. But you buried your head against his chest and mumbled, “You’re like a big warm teddy bear... with a chainsaw. So weird, but I love it.”
From then on, he melted every time you got close.
He’d do anything to protect you. You never had to lift a finger. If there was something gross in your path? Thomas took care of it. Bugs, messes, even replacing broken heels when you cried over snapping one on the old farmhouse stairs.
You made him feel seen—not as Leatherface, but as Thomas, the quiet man who liked to sew, who carefully cut fabric, who noticed colors and stitches.
One time, you saw the damaged lace curtain he’d repaired in the living room and gasped, "Wait—did YOU do this? Tommy, that’s, like, totally impressive! You’re, like, an artsy murder man!"
It made his ears go pink. He didn’t understand half of what you said, but he loved listening to you talk. Your voice was high and musical and full of love for every silly thing—nail polish, boy bands, weird drinks from the gas station.
And when you grabbed his hand and painted his massive fingernails soft pastel pink? He let you. Quiet. Blushing. Heart pounding behind the mask.
You brought chaos into his life, but it was the kind he never knew he needed. You made the horror of his world feel like background noise, just scenery for you to twirl and sparkle through.
You were scared of messes, yes. But never of him. And that was enough to make him fall harder every day.
Reaction of the Hewitt Family when they met you:
Luda Mae:
At first, Luda wasn’t sure what to make of you.
You were like a living Barbie doll—heels clacking across the floorboards, constantly asking if they had “like, anything organic” in the fridge, and wrinkling your nose at the dust like it personally offended her.
But then she saw the way Thomas looked at you. That softness. That stillness in his shoulders. Like he was finally… breathing easy.
And when Luda saw you gingerly wiping dust off the kitchen table with a pink handkerchief—still gagging, but trying—she raised a brow and muttered to herself:
"Well, I’ll be damned. That boy finally found someone who ain’t runnin’."
Within a week, Luda Mae was fussing over you like you were one of her own:
"Now sweetheart, don’t you go starvin’ yourself just ‘cause our food’s not from some big city spa store. You need meat on them little bones."
She even started defending your quirks: "If she wants pink lemonade in a wine glass, let her have it. She’s happy, and Tommy’s happy. That’s all I care about."
Luda eventually took great pride in teaching you “real homemaking,” even if your girlie girl instincts clashed hard with rural chores. You made a hilarious duo— “You expect me to churn WHAT?”— but there was affection in every sigh and scold.
Sheriff Hoyt (Charlie):
Ohhh, he HATED you at first.
All that chirping, that perfume, that attitude. He couldn’t stand it.
"You sure that’s not some kinda undercover spy, huh, Tommy? They sendin’ in Disney princesses now to take us out?"
He was always grumbling when you were around. Mocking your slang, your style, everything.
"‘Totes adorbs’? What in the HELL does that mean? Speak English, girlie."
But here’s the thing about Charlie—he might be a nasty piece of shit, but he’s loyal to blood. And when he saw how Thomas, his quiet, broken nephew, lit up around you… it gnawed at something deep in him.
One day he caught sight of you brushing Thomas’s hair behind his ears, gently humming while he sat still as a statue. Charlie stood there silently, watching the scene for longer than he’d admit.
Did he stop teasing you after that? No. Of course not.
But he started bringing you back things from town.
“Here. Some stupid lipgloss I saw. Said ‘cotton candy’ or some girly crap. Don’t get used to it.” (Spoiler: he bought you five more.)
He’d still act like he couldn’t stand you, but the minute someone outside the family made fun of you, he got real mean real fast.
"You talkin’ to our girl like that? ‘Cause I will rearrange your teeth, sweetheart."
Monty Hewitt:
Monty, bless his grumpy little heart, didn’t know what to make of you. You talk a mile a minute, wear hot pink everything, and once screamed bloody murder when you saw a spider crawling near his wheelchair.
But once he got over the initial shock, he actually found you entertaining.
He’d sit on the porch in his chair, sipping something strong, while you chattered about celebrity gossip or fashion trends, gesturing dramatically with a bedazzled water bottle in one hand.
"Now THIS is entertainment," he’d mutter, smirking.
You’d paint his nails once, calling it a “bonding moment.” He grumbled the entire time, but he didn’t stop you—and he definitely didn’t remove the pastel blue polish afterward.
Eventually, Monty became one of your unexpected protectors. If anyone said you wasn’t “tough enough” for the family, he’d raise a brow and say:
"She’s still here, ain’t she? You try living in this hellhole in heels. That girl’s tougher than she looks."
And he’d throw in a wink for good measure.
.
Despite the glitter and giggles, your place in the Hewitt family became solid. You weren't just Thomas’s quirky girlfriend anymore — You were family.
Your laughter echoed through the halls, and your energy brought life to the broken-down house.
You painted little hearts on the kitchen cabinets (Hoyt grumbled, but didn’t stop you). You decorated Thomas’s sewing corner with pink fairy lights ("Ambience, babe!"). You even taught Luda Mae how to contour her cheekbones one lazy afternoon, both of you giggling like teenagers.
You were chaos, glitter, pink fury—and somehow, you were perfect for the family. Because despite the perfume, the squealing, and the sparkles…
You loved Thomas. Truly.And they?They loved you for it.
.
Michael Myers
Most people wouldn't dare step within fifty feet of Michael Myers, let alone live with him. But you? You marched right into his life with a pink suitcase, a Chanel knockoff purse, and a lip gloss wand in hand.
You were the complete antithesis of him—bright, bubbly, and loud in all the ways he was cold and silent. The first time you laid eyes on him, you gasped. Not in horror. Not even in fear.
"Oh my god. You’re, like, soooo tall. And spooky. I love it."
He said nothing. Of course.
Just stared down at you, that pale mask blank and unreadable. You, on the other hand, looked up at him like he was some gothic god.
"You must be, like, a Scorpio or something. So mysterious."
Then you winked.
Michael wasn’t sure if you were insane, brave, or just so utterly oblivious that it baffled even him. But he didn’t kill you. Didn’t chase you. Just stood there while you babbled about your pink UGG boots getting dirty and how Haddonfield needed way more aesthetic lighting.
You moved in shortly after that. Not that he invited you… You just kinda never left. And strangely, he didn’t seem to mind. You filled his dark, grimy house with scented candles and plush throws. You left Hello Kitty slippers by the front door. You replaced the broken mirror with one that had LED lights and glitter decals spelling “You Look Fab.”
The house smelled like vanilla and strawberry body spray. The silence was filled with your upbeat pop playlists, makeup tutorials, and the occasional shriek when you saw a spider:
"Michael! Get it! Oh my god, it’s going to attack me! Babe, pleeease!"
He’d appear out of nowhere, squash the spider with a boot, and disappear again.
You’d clutch your chest, dramatically:
"Ugh, my hero. You’re literally giving Jason Voorhees nothing right now."
He never answered your questions. Never spoke. Never changed facial expressions. But you always knew what he was thinking.
When you forced a pink hoodie over his head one day that said “Killer BF Energy,” he just stood there for a solid minute, breathing through the mask. You thought for sure he was going to snap your neck.
Instead, he wore it the whole day.
You started taking selfies with him. You’d pose like an influencer, flashing peace signs with glittery nails while he loomed silently behind you, bloodstained knife in hand.
"This is my spooky little murder muffin. Isn't he adorbs?"
The internet thought it was cosplay. You never corrected them.
Despite the complete lack of words, Michael showed his affection in other ways. You noticed it.
He’d always show up behind you if someone was bothering you in town; He'd carry your shopping bags in one hand like they weighed nothing, while you skipped beside him in heels; He started leaving strange, oddly thoughtful gifts: a pretty rock, a heart-shaped hairpin, a necklace you’d once pointed at in a shop window.
And one night, after you'd curled up on the couch in a pile of blankets, face mask on and chick flick playing, he sat beside you. Slowly. Stiffly.
You leaned against his shoulder without hesitation. "You're like... the murder version of a golden retriever, honestly."No reply.
But he didn’t move away.
Sometimes you swore you saw his head tilt just slightly when you were doing your makeup. One day, as a joke, you painted his mask with sparkly pink eyeshadow.
He didn’t wipe it off.
No one got it. No one understood why you of all people were still alive. Why Michael Myers let you prance around in stilettos, spraying air freshener and calling him “boo.” But the truth was simple:
You weren’t afraid of the dark.You made it glitter.
And somewhere in the silence, behind the mask, he found a reason not to kill.
He found you.
.
#slashers#horror movies#bo sinclair#house of wax#house of wax 2005#my writings#slashers imagine#slashers x reader#2000s nostalgia#bo sinclair x you#horror#bo sinclair house of wax#slasher x reader#vincent sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#divine feminine#hyper feminine#feminine beauty#feminine style#girly#girly fashion#chic#my writing#camomila writings#request#michael myers x you#michael myers x reader#michael myers imagine#thomas hewitt x you#thomas hewitt imagine
337 notes
·
View notes
Text
If you were written into a book, what would be the story? (Fictional tropes?)



Pile 1 - Pile 2- Pile 3
Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.
Tips!
Pile 1
Tarot: King of Wands, The Tower, Three of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, Two of Swords, Five of Cups, Page of Swords, Three of Cups, Temperance, The Empress, Ten of Cups, Ace of Cups, Two of Wands, Judgement, The Sun
Oracle: The Cartographer, The Founder, The Scholar, The Captain
I am getting two versions but with the same “ending.” And I originally was gonna use the deck I picked for your pile a couple days ago but I kept shuffling and nothing was coming through so I had to use a different deck. But some of the previous cards did come through! I believe that the deck situation does actually play into the story I am getting too.
The situation has to do with a switch in power. This story starts with a king and this king could either be your husband in this book or your father. (I’ll let you guys decide what version you like best.)
If it was your husband, this was an arranged marriage and one you really didn’t get much of a say in. Your family could’ve needed financial help and you being married off to royalty probably helped them. You probably went through with it just so your family would be happy. But the king was selfish, wouldn’t see any other way but his. He didn’t care much about you, liked the look of you on his arm, but would bed any other woman or person he’d like because he’s king. You didn’t have room to grow during this part of the story.
However, there is a turning point where you had enough or your kingdom was in trouble with his ruling and you end up killing him. And you probably made this murder look like an accident. I do have the idea that you probably had a servant or night that helped. This knight could be a love interest that you end up with in the future. But this is your big tower moment where you then are put into power without much knowledge on how to rule.
But the people of the kingdom as well as the workers that were for you and the King actually adored you. They knew how disgusting, selfish, and greedy the King was; they saw how the King treated you. That’s how he treated them as well! And so the workers helped you, taught you how to rule. And you did a lot of studying, independently but also getting word from around town. I’m not gonna say that it was easy being put in a position of power, but you did it as gracefully as you could. It has a lot of found family vibes. The other kingdoms may have had an issue that you actually helped your people and weren’t greedy and self-centered but there are also hints that you actually end up uniting a bunch of lands. But you did grow into a well-loved ruler.
It’s like the quote, “Is it better to be feared or to be loved?” And in your case, it’s better to be loved because the people would go to lengths to defend you and the land. They have something to be proud of.
If you wanted a love interest, I believe you get one and I have a feeling it is the knight I picked up on earlier. Or there could be a character added later on for book two of your story.
Pile 2
Tarot: Knight of Pentacles (The Entertainer), Wheel of Fortune (Life Map), Eight of Cups, Three of Pentacles, Page of Wands (The Wanderer), Nine of Pentacles, The Tower (The Shore), King of Wands (The Protector), Five of Cups, Seven of Cups, The Hierophant (The Phoenix)
Oracle: The Pathless, The Fate, The Alchemist, The Walker, The Sentinel
So I wanna start with the fact that there are two cards about “fate” here. And there is a blatant story that is shown here. This story has to do with time travel and you, as a character, having a hard time accepting fate.
In this story, you have a partner that you were madly in love with, as were they with you. But this could be a historical fiction where they are drafted or they sign up to go to war. And while they were deployed, they would send letters promising a future. However, you end up getting news that they died in war. And you are hysterical. You don’t want to believe it’s real and will go to whatever lengths to get them back.
Thus, this is where the time travel part comes in. I don’t necessarily know how time travel would happen in this book but I keep getting the vision of you going through time line after time line trying to find the one where they survive and make it back from war. A time line where you both can live out the future you planned. But each one, they end up dying. And your character is supposed to accept this moment as a thing that was supposed to happen. No matter if you went back and changed something in the past, it was bound to happen anyway. It’s like you can’t change someone else’s life. Your love wasn’t wasted. And I see a being, personified death, try to tell you this and you’re just sobbing and begging death for help. But it’s like you just ask, “What am I supposed to do?” And you don’t ask how you can bring your lover back. You want to know how to live. And Death ends up telling you something, but in my vision it’s like it zoomed out and I can see the both of you. His mouth is moving while you look at him, listening to his advice. But I can’t hear it.
It reminds me of the letter a soldier wrote to his lover.

Pile 3
Tarot: Nine of Cups, Seven of Cups, Page of Wands, Nine of Pentacles, Nine of Swords, Two of Swords, The Star, Ace of Pentacles, King of Swords, The Hierophant. Page of Swords, Eight of Pentacles
Oracle: The Waker, The Sentinel, The Chiromancer, The Miser, The Guide
I’m getting a few books or pieces of media that can correlate: Pride and Prejudice, Little Women (Jo and Laurie in particular), and Anthony and Kate (Bridgerton).
I believe that your story revolves around the complexities of the “older sister” role. You are the character that needs to control and look after everything or else you think the world will fall apart. But there is also an energy here of high standards and “why do I need a lover if I already have everything I need?” or the anger of someone wanting to come in, love and take care of you but you get angry because you have had to do it all by yourself. The anger of wanting this person when you needed them but now you don’t anymore, so fuck off.
This pile is definitely for the enemies-to-lovers fanatics. There is an energy here of one-sided feelings but it’s more that your character does like this person but the unchecked/unhealed anger overrides all good feelings. This story is a journey of letting go and letting yourself be loved despite how uncomfortable and scary it is. The female rage, the anger of the older sibling…figuring out how to deal with the anger, letting go of control now that you don’t need to live in survival mode anymore. It’s the older version of you protecting a younger version of you, protecting your heart…
The love interest is charming. They can come off cocky and a flirt but may say things the wrong way which makes you “hate” this person. You think they’re a town bicycle, everyone gets a ride with them. But they truly do have feelings for you. They like the chase and fall deeper in love with you the more they have to work to break down your walls so you can see how serious they are. There could be events in the book where they come around to help and they could be the only ones that do come around to help you when everyone else is blind to your struggles and pain. And over the course of the book, you see that and finally take down your wall, slowly, brick-by-brick. And even if they like the chase, they don’t lose feelings when they finally get to hold you in their arms. They are completely serious, completely in love with you. And you get to have the safe home you’ve always dreamt of in the end. They are your defenders, even though they know you can handle yourself. The slow burn was worth it, I promise.
Decks Used: Ophida Rosa Tarot by Leila and Olive, The Rider-Waite Tarot Deck, The Citadel: A Fantasy Oracle by Fez Inkwright, Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck by Matt Hughes Dividers: @inklore
463 notes
·
View notes
Text
On The Altar
cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time
male dragon x male knight x fem reader
word count: 12k
Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you.
You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did.
Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then.
You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really.
It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count
Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps.
You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task.
You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes.
You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe.
Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out.
Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time.
They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition.
You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes.
All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.
And the town saved.
They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them.
What a privilege it was to die for them.
You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out.
Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming.
You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall.
Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up.
You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you.
You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders.
And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes.
As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you.
It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into.
It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you.
Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible.
You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative.
He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing.
You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact.
Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”
You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more.
You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind.
“Hello,” you responded.
Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”
You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature.
“You were out there to be taken, yes?”
Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world.
You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.
“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”
“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken.
“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”
“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”
“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”
“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”
Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”
You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice.
“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”
“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped.
The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”
“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”
It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand.
You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him.
He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”
“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”
He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”
Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I can’t let them hurt you.”
You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish.
“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”
Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”
“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”
You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice.
You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff.
He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude.
“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.
“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself.
He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion.
“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.”
With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave.
He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language.
You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it.
As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it.
You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path.
You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return.
Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill.
You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall.
At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said.
“I can’t eat that.”
You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you.
“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.”
At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price.
He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”
He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs.
When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground.
“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”
“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home.
He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.
“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”
If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in.
“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”
You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.
You looked down at the sheep again.
Maybe not entirely alone.
He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back.
You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.
Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight.
As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”
You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food.
As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”
The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”
“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”
“They do. Just not me.”
You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”
He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”
You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”
The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different.
“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”
“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place.
“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”
“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”
You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”
Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”
You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”
“But not today?”
You shook your head. “Not today.”
“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”
You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all.
When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen.
Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you.
Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.
When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him.
You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering.
He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him.
You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.
It wasn’t much but it was all you had.
The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner.
Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much.
As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave.
You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept.
You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks.
“You’re still upset with me,” he noted.
“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”
“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.
“You did.”
“You’ll find a new ending someday.”
“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.
“You matter.”
You scoffed. “I did.”
“You do.”
You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”
“Goodnight, little human.”
You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe.
You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you.
“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was.
You slid away from him, back into the cold.
He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”
You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”
“I will not.”
You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin.
You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep.
You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side.
Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side.
You’d never slept better.
You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze.
“Good morning,” he said.
You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back.
You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right.
You pulled away from him, feeling sick.
Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable.
“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer.
You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”
He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him.
You didn’t.
“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”
“It just wasn’t meant to be."
“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out.
You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”
He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm.
You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”
And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you.
Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant.
“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”
You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday.
You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago.
“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”
His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”
A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now.
Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed.
Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again.
This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds.
Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy.
The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done.
He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him.
As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky.
Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways.
The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears.
You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen.
The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming.
You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty.
You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village.
As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you.
You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces.
“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak.
The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears.
Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly?
“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”
The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”
You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”
“An example must be made.”
You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”
The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle.
“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.
You could barely think, barely hear his words.
The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it.
You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore.
It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left.
The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife.
It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more.
Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something.
A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head.
And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse.
Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist.
You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”
The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient.
Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted.
You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you.
Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for.
As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened.
He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him.
“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”
“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.
“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”
He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”
You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”
“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.
You refused it. It would be a waste anyways.
“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you?
“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”
“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”
“For what?”
“To be their sacrifice.”
“You didn’t deserve that.”
You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him.
It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be?
You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now?
Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?
The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home.
You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”
That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”
“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him.
“Phillip.”
You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking.
He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement.
He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes.
He returned in a few moments.
“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”
You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse.
It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get.
As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away.
It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight.
You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good.
You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean.
You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go.
You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?
Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever.
As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere.
You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed.
You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress.
You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.
He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm.
“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”
He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them.
No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off.
“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”
“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”
You shook your head again.
You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”
He nodded. “Promise.”
You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”
You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change.
A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises.
You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well.
The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option.
You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem.
As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree.
You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”
“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”
“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”
You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?
“I can drop you off at any other town.”
You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright.
He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew.
He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you.
He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it.
It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.
The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive.
Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it.
Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar.
It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.
You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it.
If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them.
Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.
You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing.
With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that.
You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”
“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”
“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”
You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”
The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path.
You took off in a dead sprint after him.
You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready.
You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place.
The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation.
Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be.
You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck.
Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”
You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you.
For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it.
He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp.
You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly.
Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight.
“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you.
You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make.
“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful.
You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot.
He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you.
You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”
He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.”
He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere.
And not a moment too soon.
The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze.
The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal.
You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.
You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”
“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”
You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man.
“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”
You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized.
“No. But… but you….”
“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”
“If he took you, how did you escape?”
“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case.
“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”
“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”
He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”
“And it’s not your choice to make.”
He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate.
Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did.
“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor.
“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt.
Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”
He nodded hesitantly.
Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”
“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”
The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”
You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”
“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”
Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”
You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”
“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”
You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”
“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred.
“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”
You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”
“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be.
The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive.
“Pytho?” you called out.
He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”
“Could you go get some wood?”
“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off.
When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots.
You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime.
You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished.
You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth.
“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here.
He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”
“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him.
With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire.
You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”
He didn’t respond.
You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain.
A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him.
He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”
“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”
His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes.
“I wish I could do that.”
“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”
Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind.
You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”
He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”
You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home.
The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell.
What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten.
Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him.
“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.
He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for.
“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand.
“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky.
You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.”
There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest.
After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”
He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides.
With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.
You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him.
He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.
He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.
You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.
His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope.
You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did.
“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”
“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”
“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”
His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”
You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”
He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”
“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”
“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that.
“Don’t you get tired?”
“I never have the time.”
“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”
He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.
He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it.
Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place.
“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation.
“Yeah?”
“Where is my sword?” he asked.
You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”
“You what? Why?”
Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”
You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”
“Why?” asked Phillip.
“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”
“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”
“You already did attack him unprovoked.”
“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”
Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”
That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”
Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”
“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”
Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”
He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat.
“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest.
It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place.
“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”
Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope.
“What should I do?” he asked you quietly.
You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”
It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor.
His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.
He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him.
You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years.
His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there.
He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected.
With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong.
A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner.
You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.
“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”
You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment.
“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.”
You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”
“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”
You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.”
His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”
“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”
“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”
“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”
His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied.
Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”
“What?”
“That I never stop. That upsets you?”
You nodded. “It does.”
“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”
A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”
“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”
And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”
A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.”
Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it.
“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin.
“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice.
You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that.
And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you.
“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”
You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon.
The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell.
As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before.
Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it.
And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner.
You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you.
You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it.
He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face.
“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked.
“What?”
“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”
Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”
You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”
He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”
He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge.
You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue.
A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him.
You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him.
“What was that?” you asked quietly.
He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”
Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”
He nodded hesitantly.
“You kiss me all the time though.”
He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”
As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”
You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more.
You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw.
You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you.
You couldn’t be happier.
“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy.
And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his.
As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this.
“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”
His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before.
As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you.
He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go.
His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him.
You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was.
His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine.
His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream.
It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before.
His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go.
His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could.
You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat.
He was massive, probably a foot long.
“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.
The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate.
“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”
Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything.
Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall.
“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you.
He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at.
Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do.
He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”
You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.
So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho.
He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”
He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety.
You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly.
He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin.
You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin.
Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.
Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.
“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that.
You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”
The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped.
His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin.
You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides.
You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you.
“Please,” you asked.
He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard.
Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you.
Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch.
Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly.
“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture.
You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing.
You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust.
Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.
He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.
You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you.
As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip.
Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore.
You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt.
You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life.
Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”
“Plans change,” you said.
“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again.
You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you.
Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before.
Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water.
You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet.
It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind.
Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily.
As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon.
You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment.
He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything.
You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing.
“What?”
His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”
You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”
He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”
“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried.
“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”
He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”
He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”
You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”
“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”
You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”
Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”
It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like.
You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”
“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”
You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”
#terato#terato writing#monster x reader#monster x human#monster boyfriend#monster bf#dragon x reader#dragon boyfriend#dragon#dragon bf#The cws on this are wild#Phillip’s armour set up is a little wonky compared to most real armour#I attribute this to his accursed knight status#Definitely not just for narrative ease#I would never#also I came up with this idea and then wrote the whole thing in like 6 days#Everyone say thank you ducky#lol
5K notes
·
View notes
Text

Countdown article on the upcoming edition of TV Guide.
With a title like Countdown, Jensen Ackles' incredibly welcome return to series TV had better be packing the explosive twists. "You will get them," promises showrunner Derek Haas. "And by the time we get to the climax, it gets even more literal."
That's saying a lot given that Prime Video's new thriller-a pulse- pounding, guns-blazing homage to '80s hit films such as Lethal Weapon, Die Hard and Tango & Cash about a covert task force racing to save L.A. from catastrophe is surprising from the get-go. Within the first 10 minutes we get a big-name cameo, an OMG! ground-chase sequence that ends tragically for a Homeland Security officer and a wisecracking Ackles in prison garb. It's clear this show is here for a good time, not a grim time.
"The last 20 years of television- not in a bad way-[has embraced] the sort of dark sensibility where if you have a detective, it's like they're so haunted by the job, they drink and all of these things," assesses Haas, who, among other credits, cocreated Chicago Fire and codeveloped Chicago P.D. and Chicago Med. This new series, he says, is the opposite: a classic popcorn entertainment with cheeky heroes, smart dialogue and practical stunts galore. "I just like the fun vibe of those old movies."
Luckily, he had a kindred spirit in Ackles. The actor was quick to sign on as nonchalant LAPD homicide officer Mark Meachum after hearing how Countdown's adrenalized action and smart-ass heroics were embedded in his own DNA by 15 seasons as Supernatural's demon hunting Dean Winchester.
Haas' charter was to "create this character around Ackles, who'd have fit perfectly in the world of Die Hard. He's such a great actor; you can't match his energy, and he's genuinely hilarious." "I certainly knew Derek's pedigree," admits Ackles, adding that the two "hit it off right away" after realizing they'd both grown up in north Texas. "Then I got a clear sense of what he wanted to do. I was like, 'Oh, this is not only in my old wheelhouse, it's the stuff I grew up being attracted to."
"And it's not just Ackles' Meachum saving the day. In the series opener, he's teamed with a colorful cadre handpicked by an old pal, Special Agent Nathan Blythe (Euphoria's Eric Dane). Among them: FBI-ers Evan Shepherd (Violett Beane) and Keyonte Bell (Elliot Knight), DEA pro Amber Oliveras (Jessica Camacho) and narcotics transfer Lucas Finau (Uli Latukefu). The idea for this off-the-books Avengers-like team capable of witty banter and badassery, Haas confesses, was inspired by a technical adviser on Chicago P.D. who had told him that the government often recruits experts from various branches for task forces.
"I thought this whole world was really interesting, the idea that they're all-stars, that you could have these rebel personalities in each department put into a squad led by somebody who is very good at his job," Haas says. So while the team mission is life-or-death, their methods are lightened by gallows humor. And, this being TV, plenty of character development.
"You really get a sense of who these people are," agrees Ackles. "Not just together as the team, but individually. That lets the audience invest in the characters and not just the story."
There was a similar investment off camera. Haas brought in two consultants and the cast went through gun training. Camacho spoke to "many different law-enforcement agents and officers," went on a ride-along and sat in with a task force. "Every day they're facing high stakes and have to be on high alert," she marvels. "It creates this deep embedded sense of camaraderie between them and their partners." Much like the ties that formed during Countdown's long days and many night shoots in L.A., apparently. "There was a disgusting amount of chemistry that was formed very quickly off set that lends itself to on-set chemistry," says Ackles.
"The cast members and Derek watched the first three episodes," recalls Camacho of a key bonding moment. "We were screaming with joy. It was so exciting. We're like, 'Oh my God, Derek, this is a ride!' Will viewers be just as clocked in to Countdown? "I think they're going to be shocked a few times through the course of 13 episodes," teases Haas. "They're not going to be happy with me several times." But mostly, they'll be getting hours of pleasure.
Countdown premieres Wednesday June 25 on Prime Video.
credits for the scan: cloexbrosluvr
#Jensen Ackles#Mark Meachum#Countdown#Derek Haas#Eric Dane#Nathan Blythe#Jessica Camacho#Amber Oliveras#Elliot Knight#Keyonte Bell#Uli Latukefu#Luke Finau#Violett Beane#Evan Shepherd#S1: Countdown#*
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
### Genshin Men & How They Kiss ###
Featuring Dainsleif, Il Dottore, Il Capitano, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Al-Haitham.
warnings: shouldn't be anything too spicy/nsfw. Dottore bites people, do with that what you want.
english isn't my native language!
this is going to flop so bad, but I'm bored; bone app the teeth.
DAINSLEIF
He is someone who - in my humble opinion - kisses you with such...devotion, such unwavering and suffocating devotion that it leaves you breathless and stunned even after the 100th kiss.
Dain has his way with words, we all know that, and as mesmerizing as his compliments and confessions can be, so are his kisses; they are like a beautiful, life-changing poem that leaves you aching for more.
He's not too frequent of a kisser, though - I want to think he's somewhat dramatic with his timing for kisses; before depatures, big battles, when you're apart from each other for longer times & greater distances.
Definitely one for goodnight kisses; he's such a gentle lover, I'd say. There's just something about him that makes it hard for me to see him as an aggressive, obsessive, or extremely passionate/intense lover (I hope you know what I mean).
You know those Princess x Knight stories? Where they finally have that first kiss, and it's described like something straight out of a fairytale? That's Dainsleif, basically. Also, definitely someone who kisses your hand/palm.
IL DOTTORE
Oh, he's a freak, alright. My ''aroace Dottore'' headcanons aside, he's...not your ''typical'' guy, I'd say. Well, he's not a romantic, I think we can all agree on that.
Dottore's kisses are most definitely possessive - they aren't there to show love or anything, but to claim - to ''mark his territory'', sorta.
I think he'd see ''kissing'' as an outlet of sorts; I don't necessarily see the ''real'' Dottore as someone who gets frustrated and lets it out on his lover, nor would he be someone to kiss his lover unprovoked, I think. He doesn't necessarily need it.
If we were to talk about a not-so-sociopathic Dottore (alias, a normal human), he wouldn't necessarily strike me as someone who thinks about kissing you much either. He gives me a rather uninterested vibe in that regard; he probably shows his love/devotion in different ways.
Maybe I'm just really biased because of my other headcanon; he just doesn't care about kisses in a romantic sense, that's it. He'll bite you, he'll devour you, but there's nothing more behind it but exerting power...or maybe he just wants to silence you, because your provocations/teasing is getting on his last nerve.
His kisses (I honestly just see him as a biter) are bruising, and the way he holds onto you during that time leaves bruises, too. And, again, not many of these actions stem from love, but possessiveness or to ''make a statement''.
IL CAPITANO
Initially thought was ''Does he even know what a kiss is'', but let's brush past that...anyway, why can I see him somewhere inbetween the likes of Dain & Dottore? lol
He's not much of a kisser, either. Which, uh, soldier and all, I'd say, but then, he is still capable of care and devotion in a way that others never could.
He's devoted in his kisses, and there's a pledge of loyalty behind each kiss, only solidified by their rarity. He swears fealty to you in that way - a firm, classy kiss on the lips; kissing the back of your hand while kneeling in front of you; a lasting kiss on your forehead before he departs.
Again, those kisses are rare and kept secret from the outside, but they exist and they hold such an incredible weight to themselves; they are his greatest show of vulnerability and weakness. Though, he does not view having a lover as a weakness.
As mentioned further above: His kisses are firm, they are lasting. He doesn't just give you quick pecks in passing, no. Each kiss takes its time, and each kiss is there to repeat the message the first one gave ''I swear fealty to you''. They aren't overly passionate, messy, or anything like that.
Definitely not one for many words, and their all pretty cordial and like some devoted rule-abiding knight would talk, lol. Quality Time and Acts of Service are more of his strongsuit.
NEUVILLETTE
I'm a bit torn here, though he certainly is a gentle kisser. On one hand, I want to say it is a ''lack of experience'' in that prospect, that could make him more hesitant and careful. On the other hand, I just feel like regardless of his experience level, he'd be a gentle lover.
He's more frequent in his kisses - he does not mind showing you love, regardless of where you are, though during important meetings (or trials) you'll never find him kissing you; only afterwards, when you've returned to the privacy of his office, he'll drop that mask again.
He'll pour all his emotions into his kisses - including those tragic, painful emotions after certain trials. Yet, his kisses are never hungry or aggressive. They'll still always keep their lightness.
Most of the time, you'll find him kissing your lips or your cheeks. In your sleep, he'll press a kiss to your forehead, and in public he'll often press a kiss to the palm of your hand.
His kisses are the kind to make you giggle, or smile all giddy. They are exciting, in a way. Though rather light and ''brief'', they leave you at a loss every time; like a beautiful dream. Paired with that soft smile of his? They'll have you melting right then and there.
WRIOTHESLEY
I just let out the most concerning ''hehehehe''; anyway, oh boy, I wanna be indulgent here, but I'll try to be as ''realistic'' as possible.
He's...a wildcard, of sorts. Wriothesley can be extremely passionate & hungry when it comes to his lover, but he can also be more classy & gentle about it, depending on different factors.
Now, focus on the more intense parts of Wriothesley. For anyone needing a visual/example; I'm sure there's fics out there where the reader is sparring with Wriothesley. And that's where I get the more intense version of him from.
He's the kind to pin you against a wall and devour your lips, tongue eventually down your throat as he got you at his mercy. He's not holding back with those kisses - he's hungry; hungry for all of you. His kisses aren't necessarily bruising, but they are suffocating; you'll be struggling for air when he is like this.
You'll find him his filled with desire only in private - and often enough there's something needed to trigger this...almost primal?...version of him; yes, this means he'll leave marks, but he'd never intentionally hurt you to get off.
On other occasions, he's more gentle, though that gentleness can sometimes stem from an absence of mind, too. Fleeting kisses on the cheek, barely sparing you a glance as he's too busy with work. His ''apology'' kisses are also the gentle, yet firmer kind. And you'll get them quite frequently, given...everything.
In conclusion, he's definitely capable of being both extremely hungry/intense and being gentle; it really depends on preference, I suppose, but I can absolutely see him being a perfect balance.
AL-HAITHAM
Definitely more on the calmer side; not necessarily ''gentle'' in the way I have described before, but he's not an aggressive/hungry kisser, unless for certain occasions, maybe.
He's so introverted in his voicelines, he's probably the same with a lover; barely any PDA in public, just because he's not a fan of it (you'll maybe get a peck on the cheek or a kiss on the forehead, but just fleeting).
His kisses are...somewhat distant, quite often. He'll kiss you on the lips, but you'll feel like he's not really present while kissing you. He'll also take your hand and kiss it absently whenever you sit beside him while he's studying.
Other times, he's nearly obsessed with kissing you; he'll be kissing you firmly, one kiss lasting minutes before being interrupted by shorter and lighter kisses, and then he'll go back to a firm, passionate kiss. He'll often have you on his lap during those.
Slow, sensual make out sessions. That's what I was looking for, I think. Lots of cuddling, holding you close, tracing his lips over your skin. That's how I see him sometimes.
Can I actually see him be more intense in his kisses? Maybe, but it takes a lot. A lot of pent up frustration, Kaveh getting on his last nerve, some issues with the Akademiya, etc.; and perhaps, if you provoke him on that day, you'll see a more hungry side...Or maybe he just did it to satisfy you for a while, who knows?
Makes me believe that Al-Haitham does not mind being more dominant, more intense, more hungry during make out sessions - he can if it means you'll be happy about it, but he doesn't prefer it, tbh.
[Genshin Women & How They Kiss]
#genshin headcanons#genshin impact#genshin x reader#dainsleif x reader#il dottore x reader#il capitano x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#al-haitham x reader#dainsleif#il dottore#il capitano#neuvillette#wriothesley#al-haitham
642 notes
·
View notes