#everything alive has an anatomy and everything makes sense when you think of it like that.

[ivipl1]

the funniest fucking thing abt me is that i was suddenly able to draw knight armor purely because i stopped treating it as clothes and started thinking of it as a bug carapace. using my own autism against my inability to draw in an instant one hit KO

[arieswritez]

golden boy

golden boy | yandere stepbrother!mark grayson x afab!reader

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!! pseudo-incest, panty thief!mark, roofies, victim blaming, non-con video taping, voyeurism, rape, reader's anatomy is sexualized, forced breeding, time skip (mark is an adult & nolan never killed the guardians), mark is a sicko you've been warned

about; life was easier when mark was an only child. he wishes it would've stayed that way. (1.9k words)

a/n; an anon asked about a platonic yan sibling duo so i raise you: big pervy step bro who hates your guts but also wants to rearrange them

step brother mark who's used to being the light and joy of the grayson home. as the only child, he's spoiled beyond belief. he's spunky and cute and the graysons love him to death, constantly showering him with love and adoration.

step brother mark who gets a new sibling after villains make you an orphan. nolan finds you in the ruins and it's like he's on auto-pilot: carrying you to that secret hospital and handing you off to the doctors that rush to his aid. . but not before your tiny fist closes in his suit.

as he watches you being taken away, barely alive, something inside his chest pangs.

debbie notices nolan acting strange. he's restless and he's late for dinner, more so than usual. something's very clearly wrong. and it's not like her to grow suspicious of nolan but she does.

nolan's never given her a reason to believe his head may have been turned but for some reason, she starts to believe there might be someone else.

only to find he's been visiting you at the hospital, staying at your bedside for hours on end as you recover. you're in bad shape. doctors aren't sure how you survived. . if you even will. debbie's never seen nolan so torn over a survivor before. he's seen many things: deaths, disasters, you name it. yet, you're who's causing the sleepless nights.

of course, debbie has a kind heart and, soon, it's not just nolan who's worried. the graysons keep tabs on you. and when you come to, they’re the first thing you see.

you look confused, scared, but as nolan soothes you, you offer a meek smile and nolan finds himself feeling that same giddiness he felt when he first saw a tiny mark cradled in debbie's arms.

the graysons become your legal guardians and, suddenly, mark isn't the golden boy anymore.

you take up so much of their attention. now, christmases and birthdays all revolve around you. suddenly, marks good grades and the fact he hit a home run isn't all that impressive. mark's late for his baseball practice and games more times than he can count. . yet they never miss your dance recitals.

you got an A in an absurdly easy class and that was a cause for celebration. in the meantime, mark won a spelling bee & all he got was a 'good job'.

they treat you like you're made of glass, like you'll shatter into a million tiny pieces the second someone so much as looks at you the wrong way. mark still remembers being reprimanded whenever he said the smallest things to you. he doesn't think he's ever lived down that one orphanage joke that made you bawl. god, he was just kidding. . its not his fault you're sensitive.

soon, you're calling his parents 'mom and dad'. and worse of all, they reiterate the fact that you should be calling mark your 'big brother'.

fucking fantastic.

you are everything to them while mark is pushed aside. and it only worsens the older the two of you get. mark gets his powers - there's literally nothing more impressive than that - yet he still has to do a million and one things in order to outshine you. nothing ever works. and despite the fact that mark is - quite literally - saving lives. . your stupid birthday is still more important.

you are the light of their lives and mark bitterly remembers when they used to look at him that way, too.

you are perfect in their eyes. just like he once was.

and mark wishes you would've died in that accident, just like your parent(s).

as you start to develop a sense of self, mark gets into the habit of stealing your clothes. it's the only thing you seem to care about: the way you present yourself to the world.

they're small things at first. like a single shoe when his parents had bought you new ones yet refused to get him the ones he wanted. he'll admit it, it was petty and spiteful. but you were distressed and the graysons seemed upset you'd already misplaced your brand new - expensive - shoes.

at first, he was content with telling himself that what he was doing was solely to spite you. but that was a lie. when his kleptomania made him steal one of your shirts. . it wasn't spite that made him press the material to his nose and pump his cock until he came. no, it wasn't just spite.

all your simpering and whining, following him around like some lost puppy, that one time you asked him why he hated you so much. . it made him feel more than just hate.

he didn't know what to do with you then.

so, at first, he settled with stealing your clothes.

a couple more shirts.

a pair of shorts.

knee-highs or your favorite tights.

and finally, a pair of panties.

his favorite are a lacy pair. sheer and tiny, he recalls lifting them out of your drawer with a finger. . and thinking, seriously? what're these even meant to cover?

he's extremely sure you aren't supposed to have these~

mark is content with secretly stealing your things. he doesn't get in trouble for being mean to you anymore.

you don't think he hates you.

it's a win-win situation, really.

and mark would've been happy - he would've been fine - with the little game he's been playing. soon, the two of you would part ways for college and he'd forget all about you.

he'd forget the way you'd foolishly walk to your room in only a towel when you knew the two of you were home alone.

he'd forget the way you looked when you changed out of clothing, you never truly believed in fully closing the door, did you?

he'd forget the way your moans sounded, when you touched yourself at night, thinking everyone else was asleep. he'd forget the way he'd concentrate on hearing your pretty sounds - and it's not like he'd have to try hard, another perk of having powers.

he'd forget about how he could almost envision you: humping your fingers and biting at your lip, desperately trying to get yourself off. it was like he was in the room with you. . you were so wet he could hear the wet clicks of your cunt.

he'd forget all about you.

you, you, you.

he was sure of it.

but if it's one thing about you is that you could never just let things be.

you could never just let the graysons be a normal, happy family.

and you could never just let mark forget about you.

because the first time his parents say no to you - the very first fucking time - you don't listen.

you're just not used to it.

that stupid party you weren't supposed to go to.

that stupid party mark sneaks off to, too.

and when you see him there, you're surprised.

he pretends to be, too.

because it's not fair if only one of you was forbidden to go. no, you had to fuck it up for the both of them.

it's a good thing you're so spoiled, though. and it's even better that mark eavesdropped on the conversation you had with your friend, the one in which you planned to sneak out.

you're so fucking naive. so stupid.

you think the two of you are finally getting along when he gets you a drink and whispers, don't worry, i won't tell if you don't. and you laugh and wink at him like you'll keep his secret, drinking from whatever concoction he's prepared for you.

you were too young when your parent(s) passed and the graysons never seemed to sit you down for the talk. . or maybe they did and you were just too stupid to understand why you should never accept an open drink.

it's easy to blame it on you being a lightweight. the way you sway and slur your words, the way you stumble into him, the way your body overheats.

you've had too much to drink. you're not used to it, is all. he'll take care of you, don't you worry, big brother always does.

first, he's got to lay you down, you poor thing.

he doesn't want you to hurt your pretty little head by falling!

so, he lays you down in the empty room of the house as the party continues downstairs. as you fall to the bed in a heap, you swear you can see the throbbing beat of the music, now muffled behind the closed door.

in the dark room, the moonlight leaking through the pale blue blinds look like drunken undulations, wavering like heat shimmers, yet you can't keep your eyes open long enough to ogle at them. your body doesn't feel like your own, but you're not as nervous as you should be.

mark yanks his shirt off over his head - practiced, ready - and stalks over to your semi-limp body that's nearly hanging off the bed.

it's not hard to undress you, considering you're dressed like some cheap slut. and, honestly, if it wasn't mark that night, he's sure it would've been another dude at the party. the way you're such a fucking tease, he doesn't think anyone would be able to keep their hands off of you for long.

so, really, it's only fair your older brother is the one to get his hands on the goods, first. afterall, he was there to watch them grow.

the little camcorder he took from his parents - the old silver one they used to record all their trips around the world, mark's first steps, your first birthday with them - blinks red, on and off, on and off, as he strips you. he makes sure to capture your body: your bare tits as your chest rises and falls with each panicked breath, the smooth skin of your tummy, then down, between your legs, as he records your sopping cunt taking his fingers.

you mewl and your vision's swimming. and you feel here, there, everywhere, and it's so, so confusing.

you don't know what's happening and it's distressing because you know something is.

your hands weakly try to push at the foreign body on top of you. . inside of you. . but mark is stronger than anyone will ever be and you are far too drugged to do anything about it.

they're gonna be so mad, mark thinks, as he slides into you and tries to keep the camera recording the way your cunt grips him as he feeds his cock inside of you.

they'll be so mad when they find out you've snuck out.

and maybe you'll tell them. . you think something happened. . someone did something to you. . when you try to wash his cum out of your pussy.

maybe you won't. maybe you shouldn't. they'll already be mad at you, best keep quiet about it~

but the graysons will feel even worse in the next few months. . when you start puking your guts out.

and like the perfect parents they are, they'll take you to a doctor. . only for the results to come back positive.

mark may not be a golden boy, anymore.

but in nine months, maybe you'll give him one, instead 💗

[livelaughlovesubs]

How pitiful

Part two of the other fic I wrote (repost)

Part one

Reader x Raphael

Warning: it’s sfw, but has some dark themes/ content

After a while, the corrosive smell started to bother you. Your hands were dyed completely red now. They were sticky and had feathers stuck to them, the blood of the male dried too. For a moment, it felt like you had a hangover. The things you did in the last few hours and the emotions you felt were slowly fading away, leaving nothing but desire behind. All you remembered was a vivid dream akin experience, one where you got to finally feel alive after falling down this deep abyss. The sudden change in environment seems to have influenced you more than you imagined. How you yearned for the screams and cries of him. It has only been a few minutes, yet that feeling, the rush of adrenaline started to disappear like a childhood memory. You didn’t want to forget it, you wanted to keep it sealed within you forever.

Time was passing by like usual, yet for some reason you didn’t seem responsive, as if you weren’t really there. As if you were floating in space, every nerve in your body turned off and your senses dulled. You couldn’t really acknowledge your surroundings, simply at the wall, contemplating and thinking about whatever you did remember. Everything that happened was being replayed in your head like a show, sadly the graphic setting was low and everything was a blur. Except for those crimson eyes of him.

The different expressions his eyes bore were mesmerising, enough to leave its imprint on you. How the once fierce look he owned turned into one of uncertainties, of doubt and fear. Your room looked like the aftermath of a battle. Luckily for you it was at a hotel, so you wouldn’t need to clean it. This wasn’t earth, it wouldn’t matter if the owner sees all of this, the evident of your action, the proof of your true desires. You felt empty again, like the fulfilment you felt before was ran out. The hand on the back of his head moved to his cheeks, moving his face backwards. He has been resting his chin in the crook of your neck the entire time without making a single sound, slowly it got suspicious.

Raphael was breathing very weakly and shallow, apparently he also got a nosebleed. “Hey, wake up.” You muttered, rubbing his cheeks gently. His pale face had blood stains, but his eyes were still closed. Right now he looked very vulnerable, so helpless as if he was someone that needed protection. At the same time he also appeared like an innocent child in your eyes, one that’s been depraved of love. How pitiful he is, being cast aside by his creator and now stuck in the claws of a monster. Since you wore him out a lot, you let him sleep. It didn’t matter if you knew nothing about the anatomy of an angel, if one is exhausted they need to take a break. You laid him down onto the humid mattress before you got up to go to the bathroom.

Now that you cleaned yourself up and got a towel, you started to clean the still asleep male too, wiping the excessive body fluids of him away. It was a little disturbing considering you were the cause of all of this, but you could manage. When you saw the two holes on his belly, where his piercings have been, you gaged a little. The scene turned out to be a bit more grotesque than you remembered. Speaking of memories, it was strange how you couldn’t recall what happened very clearly. After all, it was just happened, as if you weren’t thinking clearly when you did all that. You didn’t regret it though, because if there’s one thing you remembered, then it’s that you loved every second of it. Every action to the words you spoke, you knew you enjoyed yourself a lot. Enough to make you want to go for a second round.

Eventually you finished wiping him, sitting down next to Raphael again. Still so quiet, this wasn’t normal. Your first thought was that he fell asleep, though upon further inspection his face was starting to get pale. Soon you realised that he passed out and sighed, “…not good.” It looked like he lost his consciousness, probably due to the excessive amount of blood he lost. One glance was all you needed to know your hypothesis was right. In the end, you did rip his wings off, not to mention how the bed was now akin to the red carpet. A stressed out groan left you, why were thing always so difficult. Aftercare is great and all, but what should you do if he needs immediate treatment? It’s not like you can carry him all the way to paradise lost. Will today be the day you kill someone for the first time?

Suddenly the door to your hotel room crashed down, and a group of devils barged in. These devils, they really know no manners. Though you were also glad to some degree, because you saw Satan, sitri, and Marbas. “Y/n!” The devil with the white hair ran towards you, but he stopped after taking three steps. Sitri, who was pushing Marbas, followed his king and stopped right next to him. “Solomon, what happened?” That devil asked, his voice was filled with confusion. They must be shocked to see the state the room is in, not to mention Raphael. “I’ll tell you later. Marbas, can you help this guy here? He’s lost a lot of blood.” You looked calm, terrifyingly so, no panic could be spotted in your voice nor did you have a fast heartbeat. “I’ll see what I can do.” Marbas answered after a bit and got out of his binds. When he got close enough to recognise who that was, he hesitated. He still started treating him afterwards, despite the identity of the patient.

“Satan, why are you here?” In all honesty, you didn’t care, and you had a vague idea how they knew your location, but you didn’t want to answer their questions. You weren’t in the mood to right now. “When you disappeared so suddenly, everyone got worried. Then sitri found you.” Nothing you couldn’t guess yourself. “And? Why’s Marbas here?” This time, the devil with the blue hair spoke up, “I heard two heartbeats, and I recognised that the other one was an angel. That’s why.” So they thought you got beaten up or injured, huh, if that’s the case they are pretty late for a rescue operation. “What about you tell us your side of the story now?” It seems like you won’t be able to get out of this one. You noticed that he gritted his teeth again, one look was enough to tell he wasn’t happy. “Well, you see…” “y/n, your majesty Satan and sitri. I’m done, I stopped the bleeding and treated his injuries. Though this won’t be enough, we’ll need to bring him to paradise lost.” In the nick of time Marbas reported his observations and actions, in contrary to what you predicted, you were able to dodge the questions again.

“Why do we need to go all the way there, won’t the hospital in Gehenna suffice?” Satan scoffed, he was getting more furious by the second. First your disappearance, now all the hassle for an enemy. “Because… I believe only his majesty lucifer and gamigin knows how to properly treat him.” Just as Satan was about to inquire about the former seraphim’s injuries, you barged in, “All right, we don’t have much time, no? Shouldn’t we be on the way?” Everything was taking too long, so you interrupted their little small talk and rushed them. In addition, you also walked over to the bed, picking up the white jacket that belonged to his outfit and wrapped him in it. Sitri seems to have finally caught on and helped you carrying him. This was going to be a long night. It was so much hassle just to keep someone alive, maybe you should let him die instead? Was it because of your hardened personality that you weren’t sorry for him, that you didn’t feel any remorse?

It’s been three weeks since Raphael got taken in at the hospital of paradise lost. Your life hasn’t changed much, in fact it reversed back to how it was before your second meeting with him. Today, while you were visiting him, the sleeping beauty finally opened his eyes. It did caught you off guard, so you started to call for the doctor. “You’re [—]. Ah, lucifer, where’s [——]?” His view was blurry, it was like watching black paint spread on a clean paper. Furthermore his head was hurting a lot, as if he had been on a carousel for too long. It was to the point he couldn’t even register your voice properly. “…where…?” The man uttered, it was more like a groan of pain than words. He tried to cover his eyes with his hand due to how bright it was, that’s when he noticed an IV stuck to his arm. “You [—] hospital, if you [——] noticed.” It was still difficult to understand you, but it got better the more he tried. “…is that you, y/n?” Raphael asked and his hand reached out to you, his body acted before he could think about it. You held his hand and intertwined your fingers, then you squeezed his hand. “Yes.” He flinched at that, a little surprised at this sudden gentleness coming from you. This wasn’t how you were like last time, but he didn’t hate it.

A few minutes later lucifer also came into the room, the patient froze upon seeing his former colleague, he also hold your hand more firmly. You didn’t need two brain cells to know they had something to say to each other, so you got up to leave the room. When you stopped holding his hand, he tensed up again, in the end he eventually let go. Were you overthinking it or was he acting differently than before? Nonetheless, you went out to get some food for him. With a bit of discussing and arguing, you got Satan to give you permission to keep him. He did almost die because of you, with that being said you also thought he’d be more wary of you. In the end, you were proven wrong. For the time being you were going to be nice to him, so that he will want to stay, it’d be no good if he runs away. It’s been three weeks now, three weeks of pure boredom. After all that torturous wait, you finally felt an ounce of excitement.

When you got back to his resting place with a bag of to go food, you met lucifer who was just coming out of the room. They must have had a very long talk, was what you thought. You weren’t really curious about what they talked about though, which is why you asked him instead, “can he get out today? He looks healthy enough.” To your surprise the male disagreed, explaining, “he lost his wings, he’ll need physiotherapy.” The confusion was written all over your face like the front cover of a magazine, you said with an irritated tone, “you mean he can’t walk?” “Not good at best.” You should trust the words of a doctor, especially him who has more experience than you, yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. “But, it’s his wings he lost. He always walked without showing them.” Lucifer was kingly enough to explain it to you, how much patience he must have, “not showing them and not having them are two different things. He’s been used to having wings it for as long as he lived, this sudden change will cause his body to lose balance, because…” he has too much patience for sure, normally you though he was a quiet guy, though it looks like he can talk a lot if it’s his field. Great, now you had to listen to him lecture you about angel anatomy.

A while later buer called for lucifer, he had something to take care of and left you alone. You on the other hand was standing in front of the patient room now, still holding the now cold bag. So he has to stay here for a month, and then continuously visit it to get better. Is this was you want? Slowly your thoughts were getting too complicated, which is why you stepped inside. “You are back.” You saw raphael turn his head towards you. How pitiful he looked, all bedridden like this. “Yea, are you hungry?” That was a very unnecessary question, really, you didn’t know why you just wasted your breath with that one. Nevertheless you got closer and sat down on the chair next to him, then opened the bag and let him look inside. Maybe you should have used the microwave first, if there was one that is. “It’s all for you.” You added, in case he misunderstands anything. His hand reached out to your direction, though instead of the food he grabbed your hand. “…” “…?” This was bizarre to say the least, he didn’t make any sense. Both of you stayed silent, a few minutes felt like days. Why did he do that? You wondered, but before you could ask he let go of your hand again and reached inside the bag. “Thanks.” The male whispered, then bit into his food.

It was awkward, none of you dared to say something about the new promises between you two. The situation already escalated to the point where you couldn’t go back, guess you had to keep your word then. At some point, after he finished his meal, he just stared at his hands clenching the blankets. It looked like he was deep in thoughts, maybe even regretting ever meeting you. Was what happened only a mistake done in the heat of the moment? Were you going to tell him, ‘sorry, I didn’t mean to’ and then leave? After taking everything from him? That’s what he was contemplating. He can’t return to heaven without his wings, not that he exactly wants to go back, but if hell doesn’t have a place for him where can he go to? Your expression was neutral, too calm even, he couldn’t read you.

It was frustrating, you didn’t get any backlash from it, yet his life had turned upside down. Out of nowhere he reached out to you again and grabbed you by your collar, “You have to take responsibility, you can’t leave me now.” The male threatened you, getting really close to your face. Despite his deep voice, you saw the fear in his eyes, like a stormy night filled with thunder. He moved up too fast, as well as using too much strength, causing him to lose balance and fall over, crashing into your arms with his upper body. This wasn’t anything too dangerous, since you managed to catch him and prevent the fall of you two. It still hurt a little, because his fingers were gripping your shoulders really tight.

“Be careful now.” You said, pulling him in to hug him tightly, watching him tremble a little. This is weird, it wasn’t a natural reaction, so you questioned, “What’s wrong?” “I can’t…” “What?” He was acting strange, this was starting to make you feel uneasy too. Suddenly you hugged you back, holding onto you while saying, “You can’t leave me, don’t leave, never again. You made me like this, you have to take responsibility. Please, please, don’t abandon me too.” His eyes were unfocused, hieratic and wild, he panted while uttering those words like a prayer. The aspect that confused you the most was his expression, an unsettling, forced smile as he clung to you, repeating those phrases like a madman, “don’t leave, I can’t afford it now, don’t leave me.”

You stroked his hair and tried to reassure him, his voice was shaking the entire time. Has he finally gone crazy now? “as long as you behave good, I won’t leave. I’d never leave. I’m right here, Raphael, I’m right here.” It doesn’t matter if he is delusional or not, it’s easier this way. What a twisted path fate has planned out for him, it seems like no matter which turn he takes, he’ll always end up miserable. Even so he just adores when you hold him, when you make his life worth living by planting the seed of love within him. Just a few words that doesn’t even need to be true are enough to wrap him around your finger. You were no good for him, this much was clear from the beginning. Like the deadliest drug, giving him the illusion of temporal happiness, all while slowly rotting him from the inside. He can’t get out of this, he doesn’t want to get out, as long as you are alive he’ll keep using this drug, begging you for more. You can’t leave now, and he’ll make sure it stays like this forever.

Soon your visiting time was over, it was the break of dawn and you had to go home. You wanted to leave and already got up from your seat, he then asked, “where are you going?” “I’m going home, you have to stay here for a while.” Something was amiss again, the atmosphere got heavier. His eyes widened and you saw him getting uncomfortable, the change was so drastically like a light switch. “Take me with you,” Raphael demanded. “What?” This surprised you now. “I want to go with you.” He repeated his words once again, after hearing it for the second time you were still bewildered.

You’d like to say you saw determination in his eyes, but you only saw suspicion and anxiety. “If you want to, but lucifer said…” You abruptly stopped mid sentence, before adding, “you know what, let’s just leave together.” Then you gave him a hand. He tried to stand up, one step after another and hold your hand firmly. Out of nowhere he fell forwards, crashing into you again. Just like last time you managed to grab him and prevent the fall. “Ugh.” The boy yelped a little, and with your help, he managed to get back on his feet. Why was his balance so off, you thought, before you remembered the words of lucifer. To think losing his wing would have such an impact on him, you didn’t imagine it’d be this bad.

But standing alone wasn’t enough. You took a few steps back, and waited for him to follow you. When he did, he instantly fell over again. This time you weren’t there to catch him, and he crashed onto the floor. “Ah..” it wasn’t really painful, considering what he went through, but it scared him. He couldn’t walk like before anymore and flying was definitely out of the question. Even if he knew it will get better, this shock still had a physiological effect on him. Was this truly his fate, the path his lord has chosen for him? Will he find the affection he never got once he reached the end of this? He stared back to his legs, cursing his pathetic state under his breath, why was everything so hard?

You on the other hand was mesmerised, those vulnerable and desperate actions of his were making forgotten emotions float up to the surface again. These were the feelings you missed for three weeks, life’s been so boring without him like the main component was missing. The way he looked so crude was making your heart pound. You wanted him, so bad it hurt. When he looked up to you, he met your gaze, the face you made was indescribable. Was it joy, want, or anger? It made him anxious. An unfamiliar place without anyone he can trust. He killed may devils, who knows when one of them would attack him? His helplessness was causing him to depend on you more and more. “Get up, here.” Once again you reached your hand out to him, and pulled him up. With you here to help him keep balance, he was able to move more precisely.

The two of you didn’t do anything dramatic, simply walking out of the hospital hand in hand. Even if you walked pass other devils, they didn’t dare to say anything. You were the descendant of Solomon, and he was the infamous red angel. Was. Sometimes he would trip a little and lean forward, but you always managed to keep him on his feet. It felt like escorting someone who was drunk. Soon you two got out of the hospital and you called for a taxi, then you opened the door and pushed him inside. Raphael held your hand the entire time, unwilling to let go even for a moment. And with that, you two were making your way back to Gehenna.

Now you’ve done it, you really broke out of the hospital. It was way less dramatic than you thought, even so it left a bad taste in your mouth. You could still turn back and act like all of this never happened, should you? Then you looked over to the man sitting next to you in the car, he was looking out of the window, observing hell. “How do you feel, Raphael? You only woke up today after all.” He flinched at your words, then turned around. “I’m fine, I don’t need to go back.” Silence, a pretty awkward one at that. You still haven’t figured out how you should treat him, just the thought that he didn’t feel any resentment towards you was weird. On one hand you wanted to talk about it, on the other hand you didn’t know if it was the right time to do so. Suddenly Raphael spoke up again, “can I hold your hand?” He’s been like that all day, wanting to do such an innocent act with you, as if you didn’t turn his life upside down. It wouldn’t hurt to agree, so you held your hand out. The male was still looking out the window, in addition to that he was also holding your hand now. The rest of the ride went by like this, quietly and peacefully.

Once you two arrived in Gehenna, you helped him get out of the car. He stumbled a little but he was able to walk, though sometimes he would lose his footing and stray off. With heavy steps you two managed to get to your room. The devils who saw you two didn’t stop you, in such instances it was better to stay curious than knowing somehting they shouldn’t. You two had to go up the stairs to reach your destination, that was fun. Really fun. After he arrived in your room, you immediately made him sit down on your bed. He panted a little, already tired, probably because he didn’t move for the past few weeks. Satan did allow him to stay here, but you weren’t sure if he had an own room yet, so you suggested, “You can stay here for the time being, until I get you a separate room.” “…can it be the one next to yours then?” He asked, it was more like a condition though. “I’ll see what I can do.” “Then i don’t mind staying here.” That wasn’t something he gets to decide. You didn’t know what to think about sharing your privacy like this, since you didn’t have an answer yet, you changed the topic.

“Raphael, how do you feel?” “I answered you already, I’m fine,” he sounded mildly annoyed. “Yea, alright. Then what you are thinking?” “What I am thinking? Let’s see.” Raphael stretched himself on your bed, while you stood in front of him. “I can still remember the pain very well. Don get me wrong, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I don’t need it.” The male started explaining, his expression was serious and nonchalant. Then he trailed off, “huh, my chest feels tight whenever you aren’t here, if I can’t make sure you are with me my air gets snapped off. Like someone is ripping my heart out of my chest by force.” You weren’t sure what to do with these information, based on what you understood it seems like he has a few screws loose. “And?” “And it aches, it hurts. I can’t stand the idea of being separated from you.” He fumbled with his sleeves, but he wasn’t uncomfortable with sharing his thoughts.

Suddenly, out of nowhere he raised his voice, those red eyes of his showed an insatiable hunger in them, a need that can’t be satisfied. He grabbed your leg and pleaded, “don’t hurt me, you can hurt my body but don’t hurt me. Don’t leave me on my own, okay?” It’d be an understatement to say you were caught off guard by his sudden touch. Instead of replying him, you tried to take a few steps backwards, but he held onto you tightly. “Please.” His voice echoed through the room, it kind of freaked you out. In the end you got closer to him, now only inches away from the boy. This seems to satisfy him to some amount and he continued, “my neck, hah…it feels like a hand is choking me. It’s snapping my air off. Choke me please, take this feeling away.” “What are you talking about?” You couldn’t keep your bewilderedness hidden anymore, trying hard to understand the current situation.

“You are the only thing I have left. It’s only fair if I’m the only one in yours too. I’ll be good, I’ll be obedient, please tell me you need me like how I need you.” His hands grabbed your hips, fingers digging into your waist. “Ugh! Wait a second…” “I gave you what you wanted, because of you I ended up like this, don’t you see how good I’ve been to you?” This was getting uncomfortable, you weren’t exacltly scared for your life, rather you were concerned about the situation. Was this the consequences of your actions? “Raphael, calm the fuck down!” You grabbed his arms, trying to yank them away. It was starting to hurt, his nails were scratching you. Even admits all of this you noticed the flickering of his eyes, how his hands trembled and how he was shaking.

“Don’t you love me? Don’t you adore me? Isn’t that why you did all of this? Please tell me it’s true, don’t tell me otherwise. I don’t care if you have to lie. I didn’t do all of that for you to abandon me. Aren’t I the only one who would go this far for you? Tell me, tell me…! Please. I can’t, I can’t breathe. Y/n. Tell me you love me, please, give me everything you have. This agonising pain is too much to bear. Numb those feelings down until i am a shell of what I used to be. You can take anything from me, even if it’s my eyes. It hurts, it pains, help me, please, I’m begging. I think I’m going mad, y/n, have I made the wrong choice? All of this ache is driving me insane, you are my only escape now. Take it all away, make it go away. Is there no end to my suffering?”

His emotions just exploded, everything was all over the place. He also started crying at the same time as well as shaking you back and forth. Anger, doubt and fear filled him up to the rim. There was only so much he could take, and today was his snapping point. Your hand moved first, slapping him across the face, soon it turned red. His little breakdown was going too far and you weren’t nice enough to deal with it. “Fuck I told you to calm down, what are you doing, spouting one nonsense after another?” It’s rare for you to get this angry. You’ve learned to have a lot of patience after coming to hell but this man was pushing you out of your comfort zone. “I’m not good enough. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I can do better.” For some reason you highly doubted it, I mean just listen to what bullshit he was spouting. “Keep your hand on me, hurt me all you want. I’ll keep you entertained, I can be perfection for you.” The stare he gave you was serious, his tears rolled down his cheek with no purpose. Once again he started yapping about some hallucinations and fantasies he had in his brain.

He felt awful. There was no other way to describe it. Everything hurt, there wasn’t anything worth living for but you. If you left now who knows what he’ll do. Being casted aside all this time made him more insecure than he expected. Like a small bunny that got separated from its mother, walking into the wolfs den without a single clue. All that’s left for him was to clench onto any trace of love he could get. With god gone now, he truly had nothing left to lose, he needed nothing but your affection. This wasn’t about you, this wasn’t about him neither. It was about his obsession with finally feeling loved by his creator. For once he wants to be important to someone, to be useful and seen.

This need of his has been building up for centuries, and now he finally gave in to it. God was it pathetic. The title angel should have never been given to the likes of him, he truly was the one mistake of god. Despite all that you couldn’t deny it, the way he panicked was a little cute. It made your stomach feel butterflies, or was it something? The knowledge that all of this was your work made you feel proud. What a wise decision it was to leave with him today, when he’s still the most unstable. Getting thrown into an unfamiliar environment, meeting all kinds of people that can kill you. Maybe you two were pretty similar after all.

You were planning on being nice to him, you really were, but not anymore after all this drama he caused. “Raphael what are you talking about? You don’t get to decide who I’m seeing!” The words that felt from your lips were like blades stabbing his chest, the filter you had was turned off now. “Be grateful, that someone like me is taking care of something so filthy like you! You know it yourself, you are miserable and vulgar, it’s so selfish of you to want to keep me to yourself.” If he was going to let himself run wild like that, he also had to expect some consequences. The face he pulled was priceless, truly youthful greatest joy now. Tears dropped down his cheeks, you were enjoying yourself again, just like three weeks ago. Yes, this was the feeling you desperately missed.

“Such a pathetic being like you is destined to end up like this. Giving yourself up for me, isn’t it only natural? God favours me and not you.” That was a statement you highly doubted, since you weren’t exactly happy about being down here. Nonetheless, you said it just to make your little dove more miserable. Then you cupped his red and warm face, it was completely drenched in his tears now. His eyes looked tired, he seems to be so done with everything, so you cooed at him, “how pitiful you look…If I own you, you will finally find a purpose in that worthless life of yours again. If you give me your everything, naturally I’ll give you something worthy of it too. You can have an ounce of my affection, isn’t it great? Such a high reward for something like you!”

This was inexplainable, whenever it came to him you were like a different person. Ruining him, breaking him, hurting him, all of this became your favourite hobby. You aren’t a sadist, you are only like this with him! You are a good person, you are saving everyone in hell! It seems even you has lost your mind now. How are you going to return to earth with this mindset? The two of you were a match made from the depths of hell, a place not even god dared to enter. A truly beautiful and twisted bridge full of thorns. Instead of fighting together you made him clear the way for you, only to push him into the deadly river afterwards. Why you’d go this far? Honestly you didn’t have a good reason, it was all done for the sake of your enjoyment. “You aren’t enough Raphael, you are never enough.” A soft smile appeared on your face as you chuckled. This was fulfilling, but that blackhole inside you ached for more. “I’m so sorry Raphael, that you were born, and that you have to keep living. I’m begging you, please be lonely forever. Do it for me?”

Raphael was sobbing quietly, yet his features didn’t tell he was sad, instead relief was written all over his face. He didn’t know why, but you were dazzling right now. When you touched him it felt like the hand of god, you were his replacement for his lord. “I know it hurts, it will only get worse from here on, but soon you’ll be craving the pain.” You whispered, wiping his tears away with tender movements. “Please endure all of this and live miserable with me for a long time.” Stay with you, forever, that was all he heard. He filtered the words out he didn’t want to hear, then he gave you a meek smile. How adorable, so damn cute you won’t ever let go of him. You caressed his cheeks from above, smiling back at him. No one could understand the relationship of you two, it was something truly unique and wonderful. Who would have thought that the bunny and the wolf ended up together?

“y/n, do you love me?” Raphael asked, it looks like he finally calmed down. How strange that such words were able to help him. Or it broke him more, who knows. You had to think about what to say, the feelings you experienced when you were with him, the ache you felt and how you wanted to do so many things to him. After a few moments, you eventually came to the conclusion this must be love. Love makes one crazy, if this isn’t love, then what is it? It would mean it was something much more sinister, and that didn’t have a nice sound to it. Maybe it was just a mutual reliance, each one takes something from the other they desperately need while hurting all the involved parties as they do. Even if that was the truth, you couldn’t care less. All you wanted to do was to hold him while he repeats the words, ‘I’m yours’. You kissed his forehead, then answered with a ‘yes’. He pulled you towards him and both of you fell onto the bed, it bounced a little due to your weights. Then, Raphael hugged you tightly as he whispered, “I’m glad. I love you too.”

[sharlmbracta]

i can't help but think that the two firelords in aang's fever dream would've been ozai's previous, early-staged designs, from the concept of the "firelord" to the concept of "ozai"

1.

this guy literally has fire shaped eyebrows and a fire nation insignia (or what it used to be?) stuck on his forehead. his blatant (stereotypical?) theme from his appearance is powerhungry(small eyes, bulky form), greedy-arrogant(eating grapes as a symbol?), brute-forced(war-themed clothing). I think this could be the very first design of him when creating the first idea of the "ultimate hero" and the "ultimate villain". The marks of the "first" can also be seen from the clothing design (the scarf? napkin? thingy around his chest) and simple color choices (simple red with simple yellow).

also you can see that he was agreed to have a very long and thin beard from the beginning which would feed on the "wisdom" "intelligence" and "strength" propaganda

2.

again, simple red and simple yellow.

clothing looks rather flashy, which means this look of him was also made at early stages of development and the atla fashion in general hasn't yet been stabilized. (: the flair in his wrists and the thing that goes across his shoulders to his chest. makes no sense. the top half looks like a flashy sleeping robe while the bottom half looks like... an outdoor activity metal skirt?)

he looks older than the previous one. does he? he looks more manipulative though. i think this is where his "slick tongue" personality was established bc a narrow eyes, narrow eyebrows character design kinda points to a stereotypical "rat person". i think. again long beard. that points to his high status or whatever.

this design looks like it was given to an earthbending trainer who haggled on money rather than actual teaching, who was assigned by toph's parents to be her earthbending teacher

3.

this is the very first time his face is actually shown. in seasons 1 and 2, his face was intentionally hidden, probably a tactic to bubble up the audience as "what could a monster like him look like 😱".

but ironically, he's a very normal looking guy. in fact, the most normal looking guy the designers could ever make intentionally. No part of him that could make anyone go "yep this is the face of the villain." this design of him is meant to convey that looks are often the most deceiving to your judgement. this ALSO shows when the gaang finds his baby picture in his beach house on ember island and mistake him for baby zuko.

it represents that everyone can go crazy with propaganda and an insane amount of power. like aang said, how everyone is capable of "great evil" and "great good".

taking katara's quote on the baby picture, "but he looks so sweet and innocent": his "innocent" look acts like a mask he puts on, as well as the mask of neutral expression, on top of the mask of his slick tongue.

the only thing that changes from here on is the frame of his face for anatomy i guess

below is also an impacting scene in my viewpoint:

how his face contorts from this

to this

in less than a second at azula's proposition of "burning it all to the ground". shows him that he's able to mask everything as he want it to, especially about stuff like neutral-face and power-face as that is NOT his ego-high power-tripping face:

THIS is his ego-high power-tripping face

and this is him putting back on his slick face right after a moment of being unable to mask his shock-rage and consequently rage-stripping himself

"now the universe delivers you to me like an 💅act 💅 of 💅 providence 💅" yep the providence that single-handedly blew your fucking ship up

also i forgot that the scene right after defeating ozai existed, i forgot how much of a drama queen he is:

"i'm STILL ALIVE"

and "i AM the phOEnix KING"

ok girlie fellow girlie

one more thing: he sounds genuinely proud of zuko when he commends him for "slaying" the avatar. and he reprimands aang for being "weak even with all the power in the world". looks like he really does think everything around power and ONLY power. hmm, i wonder who taught him that, hmm? tragic.

[moonspirit]

Hello, Moon!

For the director's cut game:

In Planetisimal Feelings, what's your input on the scars on Annie's lower back, how she was afraid of letting people see them, including Armin, but grew to be more comfortable with Armin seeing them (later chapters)

Falling into Neptune (my personal favorite of the series!), the scene where Annie describes Armin's shoulders and hands, how she thought he might grow and become

As for VBEOW, you know I want more about Annie's thought process buying the family name seal (and maybe even receiving it later on)

Best of luck!

-Clouds

Heya clouds! And thanks for asking xD This becomes a little hehe sexy toward the end xD

1. PF, Annie's Scars.

So it's my personal headcanon that pre-shifter scars and marks remain intact even during limb regeneration and Titan healing. Good old Ymir in the paths probably has an anatomy book for every shifter in history to make sure she doesn't mess them up when she rebuilds their legs and arms. Anyway, this is why Annie has scars at all, in this series. Wounds she sustained from her dad's training.

I think Pre-Armin Annie would've cared very little who saw what and what they made of it. Post Armin however and her realisation that he saw her as a nice person, she develops a whole avalanche of emotions that she doesn't really figure out. But anyway at this point, she wants to be a good person for him... But her scars are a memory of her ugly upbringing. Proof that she was trained "not to be good", in direct contrast with Armin who's the epitome of goodness. It doesn't really matter atp because he traps her, she crystallizes and any emotional advancements between the two is pretty much doomed before it even progressed.

Post Rumbling, she's alive, he's alive, they've talked their feelings out and it can't be ignored anymore. Armin who stopped the Rumbling because he's never been a person who's liked the idea of killing anybody ever, and Annie, who killed so many out of a selfish/desperate desire to go home. She feels ugly. Not good enough. Not "clean" enough. She doesn't want him to see it. She also doesn't want him to see proof of the shit she went through as a child because now, it all seems pathetic. Her life has been a pathetic existence. What would he think of her, wanting to go back to the very man who gave her those scars? At least, these are her fears.

But then, throughout the series, Armin wears his heart on his sleeve and doesn't seem to be fazed by anything belonging to her past. He pops a vague-ish "will you marry me" question in PF. Tells her how much he desired her, physically, in Falling into Neptune. In TFLM, he tells her it's okay to live and desire happiness despite everything and that he wants to live his life loving her. Most importantly, there's the letter he gives her in which he very clearly promises to "Love her in all the ways it is possible to love her and maybe someday, the pain that rests in the scars on her back will no longer be a bad memory." which is basically a moment of reveal for her that he already knows about them through Bertholdt's memories. And he still loves her just the same. He doesn't see her as a used war weapon, now useless; he sees her as a girl, a woman, his future.

Her fears begin to dissipate. In VBEOW, she goes through a lot of reckoning over her feelings and her needs and desires, trying to make sense of them beyond just the surface level sexual frustration, and she makes several reckless (and cute) decisions that only serve to tell her that he means so much to her, more than she can even begin to describe. She wants him in her life, for good, for long, forever. And he reinforces all these beliefs by constantly telling her how much he loves her (too). By the time chap 5 comes and she learns of Pieck's sparse time with Porco, she understands the miracle it is to still have Armin alive, and the miracle of being granted long, ordinary, human lives. The scars will remain but she's fine with showing them to him, because it's Armin, he wants her and her alone, exactly for who she is and nothing more or less, and he's never going to let her go.

(More on her scars in chapter 11, Armin's going to... make good on that promise. Literally.)

2. Falling into Neptune - physical changes.

A horny midnight hour idea that arose out of the frustration of being robbed of the moment when Annie really SEES the man Armin's become, in canon material. Anyway. Since none of the sequels were planned at this stage, this was just a fic that focused on the purely physical traits that people grow to desire and want.

There's something to be said of a teenage girl's fantasies over a boy she likes. Annie, despite all her pessimism and seeming disinterest in romance and sex, was no exception. These thoughts are intrusive. You just can't help having them. At 15, as military trainees, while Armin was puny and frail, he was still taller than her. After becoming aware of her special fondness for him, she would've started becoming aware of... other things too. Like the size of his hand when he handed her a loaf of bread - a little bigger than hers. The protrusion on his throat that bobbed with every hearty laugh and shout. The back of his neck when the wind blew his hair away and how it would feel to hold onto it. The curve of her hips in contrast to his - slim and narrow. The wider shoulders compared to hers, narrow and small. The heat and scent of his body when he came especially close to her in totally normal situations, but her heart races. She would've gone to bed after training replaying all the little sounds he made while talking to her, all a little deeper in tone. She liked him, and he was a boy, so... different from her, a girl. At this age, you're hyper aware of every single change that you go through and she would've imagined how much taller he'd grow, how the features would change and etc. At the end of the day, she was just a girl with fantasies like anyone else.

At 19, things are very, very different. She's been listening to his voice deepen in register over four years, but seeing him is... a shock. Suddenly he's way taller. His shoulders are now broad. Much stronger. For all the strength and muscles she packs in her arms, his are now much bigger, and longer. Her neck, thin and long, and his neck, thicker and wider. The back of his neck, exposed permanently by that stupid gorgeous undercut that makes him look so good. Longer legs, thighs slimmer than hers but very firm and strong, and when she sits on his lap, she can feel how easily they remain in place and don't buckle under her weight. Waist and hips still narrow. When he turns his neck and yells at someone, she can see a vein straining. Beautifully long fingers and attractive as fuck forearms. The clench of a sharp jawline. He's lost the baby fat from his cheeks, but while he still looks a little boyish, there's no doubt that this is a man. And far sexier than in all her fantasies put together.

3. VBEOW, Annie's hanko.

So an unplanned but very significant subplot now, the hanko is, undeniably very cute xD While she doesn't find out about the hanko's existence until she actually visits the stamp maker, this subplot begins the very moment she undertakes Armin's job of getting that official seal made. The way I see it, the common family stamp in Japan is affixed on all official documents as a signature, and everyone carries one around. In VBEOW however, I made it so that a married couple has just one, and they share it. When she agrees to visit the stamp maker, she's already begun to share his responsibilities. Seeing the hanko there is just a physical manifestation of what she wants in their relationship, both consciously and sub-consciously.

She's also impulsive. Had Armin seen that hanko, he wouldn't have bought it. (If I can say it without spoiling, I'd say Armin's... going about this in a different way xD and I'm so excited to write this scene later on!) Armin is methodical and he'd have done it by the book, and got their hanko after being married. But Annie had one look at all the family names embossed so cutely in little rubber circles, and she thought "Oh... Arlert... would look nice on one of these."

All it took was once glance. And it becomes a fixation. Better at expressing her emotions by actions (sometimes not even that) than words, she runs back to the store the next day with enough money in her pocket, little to no thought of how it would look like to get a seal typically ordered after getting MARRIED of all things, until after she actually reaches there, she blurts out his surname and scrams back home, mortified and embarrassed. Subconsciously, she wanted something of him to keep with her at all times, but how embarrassing would it be to ask him to give her something of that sort? But here's a thing she can buy, put his name on it, and keep close.

Once she receives it out of the stamp maker's kindness (for free! basically trying to say that the things you do for love, in love, are priceless), she becomes instantly attached to it. At this point, she's still battling with putting a proper name and description to her love for him, so to have this little stamp carrying his name in her pocket, in her hands, something of her own that makes her happy and warm and safe and most importantly, loved (in contrast to the ring, that reminds her of awful things) feels like magic.

The hanko will be important in future too, and there will be plenty of cute shenanigans around it :D (some moments i'm literally DYING to write T^T)

Oh god sorry this is so long T^T I hope you made it through ifhsoighsgg.

[nikethestatue]

I don't like the way sjm writes "powerful" women. Her main female characters are so powerful that they can literally do anything, even shapeshift during sex and they can easily change their anatomy to bear a winged child! it makes no sense! every magic system has to have rules/boundaries in order for it to be realistic and believable. If every main female character is so powerful and can apparently do everything, then what's the point? Readers are now seeking books with proper worldbuilding and magic systems that actually make sense and can be explained. I bet if you asked sjm about the mating bond system, she won't know how to give a clear answer lol

I think the problem is that SJM never set up proper magical system.

She mixes Cardinal and Elemental magic, and what's more, even when they are mixed, the magics still don't follow any cohesion or logic.

For example, if immortality and granting of immortality is not part of the High Lord magic arsenal, then despite all of them feeding Feyre their magic, they technically couldn't have revived her and made her alive.

Same with healing--you can have basic healing (that everyone can do), you can have complex healing (that healers can do), and you can have devastating/life altering/ending injuries. So if you have something detached--arm, or leg, or finger and they cannot grow back, that's fine. BUT, you can't have male wings shredded and fixed up in a matter of weeks, and female wings clipped and never fixed up. That's not how it works. Or birthing--if you have Cassian being healed in a matter of 15 minutes while his guts are hanging out, but you can't deliver a winged baby, or have a C Section, that's nonsense.

Also, if you are allowing in your magical system for different species to interbreed, then there has to be a way for them to bear offspring successfully. If there is sexual and reproductive compatibility between the High Fae and the Illyrians, then there has to be a way for them to have babies. Without magical womb changing and 'impossible' births. Considering also, that there are actually other winged Fae who can breed with anyone, and there aren't these devastating issues.

Like what is 'misting'? Is it a spell? Why would Rhys have this one specific ability? How does it work? What magic is involved? Is it air magic? Also, for every magic, you have to have a counter-magic. Something you can do to protect yourself--shields, other magic, ability to escape somehow. You can't just have Rhys or his dad mist people, without any repercussions.

How's magic regenerated? We know that Rhys loses his magic when it's strained, when he has to winnow whole armies--but what does he do to regenerate it? Just take a nap?

It's not just women. It's everyone. There is no logic to SJM's magic systems.

[another-blues-clues-day-hooray]

Debunking “Film Theory: Blue is Not a Dog”

(I typed this post title before even watching the video. I just knew. And I was right.)

We start off with his claim “all these years we’ve been led to believe that Blue is a puppy. But, she is anything but.”

If Blue is not a puppy...then why did she come from a book that was literally called “About a Puppy”? (og series season five episode twenty nine Blue’s First Holiday). That itself should be enough to disprove the theory, but let’s humor him.

He goes on to argue that Blue’s age in the reboot is evidence for her not being a dog, saying that she shouldn’t still be alive. But the reboot is a different universe from the original. You want to know how I know that it’s a different universe? Because if they’re in the same timeline, that would mean they met Periwinkle for the first time twice (og series season three episode twenty one Blue’s Big Mystery vs Blue’s Clues & You’s season three episode one Our New Neighbor). I’d also look forward to seeing his explanation on why, if they’re the same universe, Miss Marigold mysteriously turned into a hippo and Green Puppy got Thanos snapped.

He claims that this is definitely the same Blue from the original series, but his evidence for that is flimsy - saying it’s solely because Steve and Joe talk to her. But that literally does not mean anything regarding whether or not it’s a different timeline if you stop and think about it - the BC&Y timeline is so similar that Steve and Joe probably raised her in that timeline too.

He also goes on to say that Blue can’t be a dog because she has aposable thumbs. It’s almost like...and I know, this is wild, but it’s almost like...Blue comes from a different universe than the one we call reality (Blue’s Big City Adventure seems to establish that pretty well) and so dogs can have different anatomy in different universes? Same goes for his stupid “real dogs can’t eat chocolate ice cream” argument too.

This is just a nitpick but MatPat, when retelling Moona’s story in Legend of the Blue Puppy, says “a litter of puppies just appeared out of nowhere” when Moona literally says they were “born”. Aka they had a mom, we just didn’t see them, they didn’t spawn out of nowhere. 

His argument about Blue’s Room not following a normal time is valid. But it’s not valid in the sense of “obviously Blue is an alien”. Blue didn’t make her room, it was given to her, so while it’s perfecly valid to wonder about the time passage issue, I don’t feel like this is something that can be used against her. 

The part about Rainbow Puppy seems to have absolutely no evidence attached to it whatsoever other than “Rainbow Puppy is more powerful and is also probably the same species” (I know that Rainbow Puppy is definitely a dog and so is Blue, but I say “probably” because MatPat is trying to argue that neither of them are dogs). 

I also love (read: hate) how he argues that Blue unlocking her room changes everything because “it’s all about you now” and “Joe isn’t allowed in there” when Joe has been in Blue’s Room several times. There’s too many to just list here - go look at a Blue’s Room episode guide and see for yourself. (No, I don’t mean a Blue’s Clues episode guide, Blue’s Room is a separate series). 

I don’t understand his argument that because Blue stood on two feet in Blue’s Big City Adventure, she’s becoming a “higher evolved being”. She’s stood on two feet several times prior to that. Like a lot. Just for one example, go back and rewatch the scene where they’re reading the About a Puppy book and you’ll see it too. 

He’s using Blue’s abilities seen in Blue’s Big City Adventure (skidooing into New York City, bringing objects to life) as evidence for his theory but none of that means she isn’t a dog. That just means she’s a magic dog.

I cannot believe he used Skidoo World being rainbow colored as evidence that Rainbow Puppy controls the world and that Blue is on her way to take control of the world too. The lgbt pride flag is rainbow colored too, does that mean Rainbow Puppy controls the gays? (As a gay person myself I can confirm the answer to that is no).

Yes, Blue came into existence from a book. But that doesn’t make her an alien, and do you know why? Because that book still existed in Storybook World. So it’s more like she moved in from another state/city.

Never go against a tumblr user when the integrity of Blue’s Clues is on the line. 

[nellie-elizabeth]

Grey's Anatomy: Never Felt So Alone (20x05)

Man, Nick sucks so much as a character I cannot believe.

Cons:

I'm going to be a broken record about Jo and Link, but wow, I don't care about their relationship. This pregnancy scare is a cheap way to introduce a shot of lightly-comedic drama into their honeymoon period and I'm bored to tears by all of it. It's a shame, because I actually think both actors are really charming and funny, and yet when they're playing off of each other in a scene, I feel absolutely nothing. The idea of going through a Jo/Link marriage and babies story just fills me with a sense of defeat and ennui. Alex Karev I miss you so much.

I feel like the takeaway from this episode is supposed to be that Meredith is being unreasonable about the Nick situation, but... nah. Nick is a boring lump of coal and Meredith has a lot of trauma around the death of loved ones, and Nick should have called sooner. I just wish that Meredith had been settled off-screen with a less annoying endgame love interest. It feels like we've lost our chance for Meredith to find a new forever person on screen, because Ellen Pompeo isn't interested in doing that anymore, and fair enough, but Nick? God, he sucks so hard.

Usually I get really moved and emotional about the "very special episodes" that this show pulls off, about all manner of serious subjects. I have to say, I felt a little alienated from this one, though. There were things I liked about it, but the core of it, the med student Eddie standing on the ledge, with Simone and Kwan talking to him, just felt very... generic, maybe? It was a lot of standard talking points about suicidal ideation, without the magic of making every guest character come alive, the way Grey's usually pulls off. I don't know. I don't feel like it was terribly done, it just didn't quite grip me.

Pros:

I really liked Owen and Amelia spending the day working together. Their romantic relationship was always such a clusterfuck but I think they have the kind of friendship that really stands the test of time. They do a risky and complicated surgery to give a med student a chance to be able to walk again, and seeing them triumph and feel that thrill of surgery again together was really quite lovely! Also, when Teddy and Owen don't have hella drama going on between them, their relationship is perfectly tolerable. I liked the ending little bit where Teddy gets cleared to go back to surgery, and she and Owen are talking over logistics for picking up the kids, etcetera. Their energy together does work for me; I remember shipping them way back in the before-times.

Bailey and Ben are really the best long-term relationship on this show. I'm almost anxious about Station 19 ending, because if Ben hops back over to be more of a main character on Grey's, they might give them relationship tension and I don't want that! Ben calming Bailey down, the two of them talking about mental health and being there to support each other... this was the part of the suicide prevention plot thread that worked the best for me. Just these two married people having a frank conversation about being there to support one another.

Despite hating everything about Nick, I did like some of Meredith's stuff in this episode. Her being able to talk through her fear with Richard was really touching. Of course she has baggage and fears around specifically this outcome! Something totally survivable happening to someone in her family, but the potential of the hospital fucking it up? I like that now that Meredith has moved to Boston and she's only a part-time character, she really does feel like more of a mom. Not to be cheesy, but it's such a fitting way to wrap up the overall arc of Meredith Grey, given where we started with her, and all her own issues with her mother. I wish Nick wasn't the person she was having the conversation with, but I also liked her being willing to process her messy emotions and admit the harm she did to others because of it. Real growth for our Mer!

As I keep saying, I really do love these new intern characters a lot. Let's go through some of these stories really fast.

Jules and Winston! Jules is growing on me more and more. I love that she stood up to Winston, and that he admitted he'd been a grump lately. Her compassion and care for the people around her is so lovely, and she manages to seem like a really strong, pragmatic person all while having empathy off the charts. We love to see it.

Yasuda gets stuck with the unpleasant job of babysitting a bunch of drunk med students with minor injuries, and things take a turn for the worse when she learns from Schmitt that Helm kept her from an interesting surgery, and made her stay in the pit. We don't know the outcome of this little betrayal yet, but I'm interested to see their relationship get more of a spotlight, even if it is to work through a difficult moment! I loved Jules comforting Yasuda at the end using a technique her mother taught her. Their friendship is so lovely.

We get some insight into Kwan's relationship to his own mental health; I loved how he stepped in and talked to Eddie after letting Simone take the lead for so long. I think it's telling that in an episode themed all around connection and reaching out to people, Kwan didn't actually open up to Simone after that experience. He didn't go to Jules, or to anybody else, to talk through what had happened. We'll have to see if he's able to form those important bonds moving forward.

And as mad as I've been at Lucas for being such a dickhead recently, I did find the scene at the end with him and Simone quite lovely. It's not a fix to everything broken between them, but it's this moment where they're able to come together to comfort and hold each other. Simone definitely needed that after the day she'd had, and I like that Lucas was willing to put aside everything else and do that.

So that's all for this one. It looks like from the promo for next week that Richard is going to have some sort of freak-out or incident at work, and I'm... kind of already tired of seeing this story again. But we'll see!

7/10

[letthestorieslive]

3 and 30 for ao3 wrapped?

Hi spike, thanks for sending this <3

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits) ?

Honestly, I am so proud of every fic I wrote this year. Because I managed to write in english, which is so not my first language (and sometime words are hard and languages just kind of merge in my head and what I'm saying or writing doesn't make sense anymore), and because I managed to write on a tight time schedule (5 fics in two months, which three and a half of them were written in one month for Scottuary).

I guess that if I have to choose one tho, it would probably be (Help) I'm Alive. It was the first fic I wrote this year and that fic has history : I rewrote it a lot, discarded it because of frustration, worked on it again, put it on hold to work on developing other ideas, deleted almost everything, rewrote some sections, deleted other sections, paused it again to start writing another fic and came back to it hit by inspiration.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year ?

Working with a beta reader, hands down.

I've told @scribeoffate several times that I was thinking about asking someone to be my beta reader to see if it was something that could work for me but my shy ass never acted on it. Until last December and it was like one of the best decision I made that month ? I definitely got more confident as grammar and spelling were correctly correct this time (and it was my biggest mental block when writing in another language).

And the back and forth was SO GOOD !! Maybe because I had like the greatest mind as a beta (@momentofmemory i'm forever grateful <3) but talking about some sections of fic, and how to make it more flowing was really great. Like Anatomy of Healing Aching Scars would not be the same without her. So yeah, a really good surprise.

[unholyplumpprincess]

Courtship Rules

For the lovley @beansapalooza for some alien fucking! For Science!

Summary: You are a scientist on a team of four sent to live on a planet where xenomorphs inhabit. You are all to have your studies on them, everyone has their own thing. You? Well. You study their breeding habits. Perhaps getting a little TOO close to that knowledge. But, what better way to study than hands on? Or. In which a xenomorph recognizes you from its past and believes you to be its mate. Who are you to refuse getting stuffed full of eggs? All in the name of science, of course.

Reblogs > Likes. Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, have your age in your bio to interact!

Fandom: Aliens - Aliens VS Predators

Relationship: Xenomorph/Reader

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, Reader is gn and has a vulva + is chubby, oviposition/ovipositors, knotting, brief brief mentions of mild gore that’s canon typical, breeding, you get stuffed with alien eggs!

Words: 8.7k

_________

The mission relayed to you had been one of great importance. But it came with great dangers, dangers that you were all aware of.  

There were four of you total, almost all scientists in your own regard. A handful of teams had come into contact with the creatures you were now studying. And all those teams had wound up dead.  

One of those teams, years ago who had first come into contact with them, didn’t know what they were up against or what they were bringing back. Another team had been sent to wipe them out, claiming them to be parasites, with only one survivor to return to tell the tale. Another team had been sent out as a means to take one or two back to study in cages on their ships, once again did not go well. Another team sent to explore their home planet, weapons in hand because exterminating the species had been the only thing on their mind. Then another team, and another, and another...  

Other teams were documented, more and more who wanted to quietly try and study or eliminate them. All failed. All dead.  

~Rest under the cut~

All marked in the files and reports you had read with big red stamps over pictures of people just like you reading ‘deceased’. Graphic images of rib cages and stomachs burst open and people hanging in this thick, black goop. Holes stabbed straight through the hearts or the forehead. These aliens, classified under the term Xenomorph, were quick killing predators who were used to getting what they needed to survive.  

They were bred that way, for fighting and survival.  

Your team was to study them. All of you had different projects given to you. Your team consisted of: Lillian, a tall woman with wild curls of deep red down her back and warm brown skin with a smile that could break hearts. She studied how they lived through the hive, their ranking, and what was the importance of all of their systems. This also included breaking down their anatomy and worked hand in hand with you.  

Frankie, a short haired nonbinary person with a deep olive skin tone and a soft, shy personality that could become booming once excited. They were in charge of monitoring and studying the physical data that came in through either physical  samples  of the hive or sediment from the planet to see if there was a connection. Different points of study depending on the surrounding climates.  

And Mavrick, who was on the way taller side of all of you and needed to duck to get around your ship. A man with sharp teeth and charmingly an asshole, with wild hair and quite the affinity for Frankie. Who was, as far as you knew, married to them. He wasn’t a researcher, but an engineer who kept your ship intact and in one piece, in charge of sending messages out when supplies were needed.  

And you? Well. You studied their breeding habits. There had been question that if a Queen was not involved, how did they breed? However, this hive didn’t have a queen. Two years ago, when your team was sent here, they did. But she passed away and became one with the hive walls. It had brought a concern to all of you thinking that there was no survival to continue so therefor no mission, and yet, it seemed in record time, they evolved in peculiar ways.  

The xenomorphs before both exhibited both internal and external genitalia, but they didn’t seem to actually  use  said genitalia until recently when the Queen had died. Xenomorphs lived in freezing cold environments, their bodies just as cold blooded despite their blood being so high in acidity that it could melt a floor. Yet, even with these factors, they adapted to fit the environments they were in. Whether warm or cold.  

Through varied, new studies on these peculiar evolutions, xenomorphs with internal genitalia could hold the eggs given to them by their external genitalia counterparts.  But,  the problem is the eggs don’t tend to survive unless the xenomorph stays warm enough for them to incubate. And refusing to leave their freezing cold hive meant there was no chance they could keep their bodies warm.  

Curiosity and in the name of science had led your team to carefully place blankets near their hive. And with cameras you had been able to see how they built nests with these. The xenomorphs carrying the eggs staying warmed and inside of them in order to incubate these eggs until they could lay them. With trial and error, the xenomorphs learned that their bodies had to stay warm in order to hatch the eggs they now carried.  

However, that could be too big a trial for a xenomorph always on the go and within the hive. They needed something more permanent that wasn’t hindering for them.  

The older, bigger eggs from the Queen used to hatch with what was called ‘Face huggers’ due to their spider leg appearance and long tails. Other creatures on the planet were captured in their hive and used as hosts for these beings to lay their eggs and then curl up and die. It took either days or weeks depending on the size- or rank- of the xenomorph before the ‘chest burster’ would emerge and crack through the rib cage or abdomen of its host. Which left the xenomorphs to do very little than simply capture live prey and let the face huggers do the rest.  

This new evolution for their spawn to continue required more work. And yet, the eggs that hatched from these evolved ones were what used to be deemed as ‘chest  bursters’. Which took out the need for face huggers, so eliminating a step. Curiously, these young xenomorphs were hatched warm blooded and then developed to be cold blooded as they grew and adapted to their environment. Another proof of their steps in adaptability to fit the climates that surrounded them.  

That’s what you and Lillian had been studying together, the new evolution of xenomorphs and how their bodies had adjusted as well as breeding patterns. It also seemed that the xenomorphs were now trying to branch out into warmer areas of the planet where beasts were, another study that Frankie was making note of. It made sense that the warm-blooded beings would be warm and could keep their eggs alive without needing to do all that work of blankets and trying to keep their own bodies warm. It saved a step.  

However, the current study conducted by your team was monitoring  how  these creatures were going to use these beasts to their advantage.  

There were cameras in the dark hive that let you guys see what was happening. But all of you had also figured out that a year in that you could suit up entirely head to toe and use the collected pheromones from the xenomorphs to mask that you were in the hive. It made physical data collection a lot easier, and less suspicious than sending in a humming drone to collect the data in a little basket. 

Those got destroyed quite frequently by a well-aimed, sharp tail.  

Though, it was still an unnerving task having to go into the hive. Going in the dark with only the screen on your goggles to see through the dark of the rooms or the small beams of light coming in from the ceiling. Hearing the taps of claws passing by as they worked through the hive. Sometimes there would be a hiss and you had to ensure you didn’t stiffen up or jump to draw attention to yourselves. Any sort of abnormality in behavior could be seen as an infiltrator.  

The first time your team had done this, you went in a full group of four. It had been a scary time as you carefully moved in a group. But for the most part the xenomorphs thought you must have been a bigger drone worker, because they’d pass you guys by without so much as a glance or hesitation.  

The jig had almost been up when you all had made it to the egg room, one of the warm-blooded creatures stuck on the wall suddenly howling out and a chest burster breaking from it.  

Mavrick had drawn his gun first out of reflex, no sound from any of you as to not alert the hive. You understood as the reaction was only natural because you guys knew how dangerous they could all be. Yet, for some reason you had quickly scooped up the chest burster and held it to your chest. Vigorously shaking your head for reasons other than the fact it would have alerted the others to investigate and perhaps slaughter your team. Reason that, to this day, you couldn’t quite pinpoint why you did it.  

The chest burster looked...different than the others. Its crown wasn’t smooth, but tall and pointed- very much like, well, a crown. It looked similar to a Queen xenomorph child, but there would be no need for a queen, and this one wasn’t quite big enough to classify as even that. Perhaps some new evolved version of a higher rank?  

Regardless of these questions, you quickly had run to one of the small holes that led to another room. Gently, you’d set the shockingly quiet and non-squirming chest burster down, quickly shooing it off.  

You can’t help but feel like it lingered to look at you- but you knew these creatures were very well almost near blind, fairly near sighted. Everything seen in a blurry black and white for them. There was no way it could have seen you in that grand of detail- and your team wasn’t sure about how well their memories held at that time.  So,  there was no  guarantee  it was trying to actually see or remember you in some way.  

It had been a scary moment for all of you. Your human instincts all told you to run or to kill it, and yet you felt this pull to keep it alive. Perhaps it was just because you had been studying them for so long that you were attached to this hive. That would make sense, even if you knew that at a moment’s notice the xenomorphs would take you out for infiltrating. A clean, swift death from either a  tail or  their strange miniature mouths.  

Sort of how people back on Earth would care for a lion pride, knowing full well they could be killed if they so much as stopped feeding them.  

Today, a year later, you have to go into the hive. You do this as often as you could, nearly once a week in order to collect physical data. Since you’re the only one who feels particularly brave enough to do it so often, you don’t mind the everyday suit up in order to get better data on all of your studies.  

However, the reason today was due to one of the cameras having fallen off the wall of the hive looking into the nesting room. It was crucial to have it up, especially since you were focusing on studying their new mating and breeding habits. One of which being how they were trying to figure out how to use beasts like they had in the past to hold their eggs. But, the  old-fashioned  way of a face hugger implanting it in their chest clearly wasn’t  going  to happen.  

Pheromones are sprayed across your  pitch-black  suit and helmet to ensure you blended in with the hive. The helmet was unnecessary for planet survival, but necessary in case of an accident; Oxygen was clean and the air was as cold as a fresh winter day, but it allowed you to see in the dim space of their hive, as well as protected your head if you got knocked over.  

And if you did get knocked over, you’d rather that the hive members would have to try to work for their kill at least.  

You keep your cool as you head out of the ship, a camera installed in the front of your suit ensuring that your team could monitor if something went wrong. You keep quiet as you navigate the halls as easily as you would your ship once inside the hive, making sure to keep moving when you hear the taps of claws. If you startled or held still, they would know something was up, so you keep as if you are one of them. As you always did.  

The nesting room is a larger room in the center of the hive, the ceiling open to allow light to be mainly focused here with only spider webs of black goop keeping the hive connected above. Five nesting areas of craters are scattered about with furs from beasts stacked in some or blankets your team had left out. But what’s the most interesting is on the wall is a large beast, looking akin to a saber tooth tiger with far too many eyes and too many tails to be one.  

It was alive. Breathing. Encased in the black goop with four dark gray eggs almost swaddled against its abdomen with more of the hard-black material they used to build their hive. Like a makeshift incubator without killing the beast. That was...interesting. They had tried killing these beasts before, tearing open their abdomens or chests to put their eggs, but they must have learned that the bodies became too cold after a few hours.  

Your eyes light up when you realize they’re going against their very nature to maul upon sight- learning to adapt to keep their species going. Even if it means going against what they were bred to do.  

You spy the camera on the ground near the snoozing beast and carefully creep up. You move it around in your grasp to check for damages, only spotting a slight scratch on the outer edge of it, but thankfully not the lens. That was good, it meant replacement wasn’t necessary and you could just get it back up without needing to go back to your ship for repairs.  

But your train of thought is paused when you hear the beast let out a low, slow growl.  

Your heart pounds, eyes moving up slowly and carefully whilst keeping your body still to not alert it. You soon see its eyes are still closed.  

It was a snore.  

Okay, okay that was fine! Cool, don’t make that sound again, thanks!  

You let out a breath you’d been holding, practically feeling your team do the same when you give a thumbs up to the camera in your grasp after you turn it on. You move towards the back of the room near the nests to mount it on the wall with a sticky adhesive, positioning it to be just right.  

That’s when you hear a different noise right behind you when you take one step back to admire your handiwork. You freeze when you hear the quiet, near nonexistent tapping of claws behind you. Normally when the xenomorphs were walking, you could hear them. This was a deliberate drag of a tail, near silence. The only time they would be quiet is if...  

Is if they were hunting.  

Your heart is pounding heavily in your ears, your hands shaking by your sides and your breath quickening. You swallow heavily, remembering their body language and how they responded to quick movement. You don’t move a muscle, hearing the low hiss of warning behind you and the drag of its tail sound lighter as it’s lifted.  

You tuck and roll to the right just as quick as the tail stabs just where you were standing, narrowly missing the camera on the wall. You yelp when you land yourself in one of the craters of their nests, scrambling back on your elbows and watching the xenomorph crawl after you with that same high hiss of warning.  

You were an intruder in their nesting ground. That was the biggest offense.   

Your lips quiver, vision blurring with fat tears when it crawls overtop you. Its large body frames your own with its long head lowering down towards your helmet. Its mouth of razor-sharp teeth opening and its miniature mouth poised to strike your helmet to attempt to get through the thick glass.  

You knew coming into this that this was dangerous. All of this was dangerous. You can’t even blame the xenomorph. As far as it knew, you were an intruder who just planted something inside of its home. You don’t fear this death, but your heart still races and tears still slide down your cheeks with your instincts to move, to run, to flee.  

And then suddenly. There’s a blur of black as it gets knocked to the side by a much bigger xenomorph.  

It stands a good foot taller than the average six foot they normally are. Its body wider and girthier, circling its hive member with a louder and deeper sounding hiss that reverberates in the room. The smaller one hisses back in a weaker tone, looking over towards your direction and then whipping its head back at the larger xenomorph. Their body language is loud and obvious, an argument of if you were an intruder or not.  

The larger one acts as if this was an argument between hive members and breaking it up.  

The smaller one still bristled and looking at you like trying to prove you didn’t belong there.  

It’s with a slam of the larger one’s thicker tail does the smaller finally scuttle off back down a hallway. You weren’t a threat, you weren’t a danger enough to keep arguing over.  

Your heart is racing as you consider what the fuck just happened. Maybe this larger one wanted to end you instead? Maybe that was its job? Its job was protector, you knew that much from its size. You can’t even think clearly, watching as its head now turns towards you without a single snarl on its face. Except- curious. You...you know this one. With its tall crown flaring out much to look like a crown, like a miniature Queen.  

The chest burster you had practically rescued; You’d only caught glimpses of it as an adult on the cameras. Lillian knew more about it than you, she nicknamed it The Knight.  

No way it could remember you, right? Xenomorphs were based mostly on scent, this was true, but you’d used pheromones then and you definitely used them now. They didn’t pack bond like humans...did they? And even if they did, would it recognize you by your suit alone?  

That would definitely be a new evolutionary trait- but then again, the beast on the wall wasn’t killed either but being used for its heat and kept alive.  

Regardless, the xenomorph is stalking closer, but slower. Not prowling as if making sure to make noise as if it wanted to be sure you saw it. You swallow thickly, flinching when its long fingers outstretch towards your helmet. Its long, wide crowned head cocks. A small, almost trilling noise from its throat as it slowly moves itself into the nest you were currently still lying in. It doesn’t move to be on top of you, instead moving towards your side, gently nudging your side as if to urge you to get out.  

O-oh?  

You move as guided, helped out of the little crater with it again making that same sound as if it was pleased you did what it wanted. You’re still high off your fear, not quite thinking of anything else besides your shaky legs as you climb out. The alien behind you nudges your back with its head, a fond gesture you don’t even think about at first until it’s scooping you up. You don’t make a sound, fearing that yelping would anger it in some way but. But there was something about this...  

You realize how it’s holding you. Cradled to its chest just like you had that little chest burster. It marches purposefully through the hive, back the way you came and keeping you tucked close with a firm grasp. Just like you had done to it to protect it from your team. It was protecting you from the hive just in case the drone had summoned others. Its body language purposeful.  

As it walks, you contemplate what just happened. A drone got angry, went to attack you, and the Knight defended you. Okay, so it must have remembered you, but that trill.  

Why did you know that sound? They only made that sound if--  

Mate.  

It thinks you’re its mate.  

Or rather, trying to court you into being its mate.  

You note it turns a new way down the hive structure. Not towards the exit, but instead to its own area. It has a similar crater in the ground with furs lovingly skinned off beasts piled in said nest. The room is wide, dome shaped almost with a beam of light streaming from up above and into the center of the nest.  

Only higher ranked xenomorphs had their own spaces, especially to breed and nest, whilst the drones used the center room.  

You’re set down oh so carefully into the wide nest that was built bigger than the others for reasons you can only assume is because how big this xenomorph was. It trills once again, but doesn’t follow you into the nest. Moving to lie curled around the edge of it with its head turned towards you and lying on its side to expose its belly and keep its tail far from you. The body language was familiar to you with courtships. ‘I am not a threat’ it’s practically yelling. You almost laugh at how silly this display seems to you as a human, but can’t help the nervousness in your throat.  

“H-hi-” You manage to croak out finally, feeling silly for even deciding to speak.  But,  it merely lifts its head slightly, as if to show you it’s listening. It lets out a low noise in its throat, a sort of snort as if trying to mimic the thickness of your voice. Another sign it was trying to court you with mimicry, despite not having the right vocal  cords  to sound how you sounded.  

It had to know you were another species, right? The pheromones on your suits would mimic a xenomorph, sure, but it carried you in a way that said it knew you were softer in flesh. It would feel that when touching you. It would feel you were much warmer- and maybe that was the key, you realize, it knew you were warmer and could hold its...its eggs without any trouble.  

You cannot place why that does not turn you off or make you frightened in the slightest.  

You can only imagine your team screaming back on the ship with the camera feed in your suit right now. You imagine Lillian is trying to jot down this data as quick as she can in her many, many journals.  

You swallow thickly, remembering all the different noises to indicate certain things. You release a low hiss yourself, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth and letting air escape through a small part of your teeth to sound subtle, quiet. ‘Scared’ yours says ‘Not ready’.  

Immediately, the xenomorph perks its head up, slowly rolling back onto its abdomen and hissing the same sound back with a cock of its head. Xenomorphs didn’t take each other without consent, they courted each other much like humans would. And it takes your consent with a question, as if asking if you are sure, and once you repeat the sound followed by a whimper, it sits right up.  

There’s no anger in its movements as it comes closer to your helmet, gently tapping the roundness of its head against your helmet. ‘I will wait’ it says without saying a word. And once more you are offered to come out of the nest, gathered into its arms, set foot through the hive and set just at the mouth of the hive where you had come in.  

It knew you weren’t of its kind. Or else it would have led you right back into the hive. It knew you didn’t belong there. How curious—how smart this creature was.  

 You can’t help but look back at it as it waits by the door, seeming to watch you leave until you leave its near sighted vision. It crawls back into the hive as you race back to your ship with a pounding heart and a sense of longing lingering over your body.  

When you come inside, decontamination processes occur before you can put your suit away and enter the ship safely. Lillian is jumping on you first, to no surprise. You’re dizzy with her hands fretting over you, question after question until she cups your face and wipes away your dried tears. “Are you alright, my dear? I can’t imagine how frightening that was- but oh, how interesting! That is the same creature you had saved, correct?”  

You  kind of vaguely nod to her questions, letting her guide you into your quarters instead. She leaves you to rest when you clearly need your space to think, stroking your cheek fondly and telling you if you need anything, you know you can yell for any of them. But, by the end of the night when dinner is shared between all of you, Mavrick really outdoing himself in the kitchen as always, you manage to share the details.  

From all of your combined studies, you all agree that this was courtship. There was no fear in denying a xenomorph, they all accepted rejections just like a human might without any bloodshed.  But,  Frankie does point something out that’s interesting. “If the xenomorph does lay its eggs in you, wouldn’t that make studying them easier? I mean, if we bring the eggs on board and they hatch, what if they pack bond due to their evolutionary traits?”  

That makes everyone at the table pause to look at them. Watching as they pop a mouthful of chili in their mouth only to notice everyone’s looking at them. They fluster, cheeks warming and covering their mouth with the back of their hand when they speak, their southern accent thicker now. “W-what? I’m just  sayin ’ it’d be easier than trynna collect a sample from an angry alien in the hive!”  

“Frankie. I think that’s the smartest thing you’ve said all year.” You tease lightly, soft laughter from your chest when they shoot you daggers.  

“Why, thank you. I’m glad that saying ‘go get railed by an alien’ is considered a smart option to you.” They huff, earning them a kiss atop their head from Mavrick to soothe their feigned upset attitude.  

After dinner, you help clean up, settling at the table with everyone as you all game plan.  

You weren’t against being mated to a xenomorph, they were your life already, and maybe having one bonded to you would help a lot in your gathered research. Not to mention, sexual repression was high in the ship- unless you were Frankie and Mavrick who most definitely went at it like rabbits when no one was looking. You? Lillian? Nada. Zip. Maybe some alien dick wasn’t so bad for you, although the idea of eggs being inside you should have been terrifying, you can’t help but feel...excited.  

Wow. You really were sexually frustrated, huh?  

Allow the Knight to court you. You could test your limitations within the hive due to it being higher ranking, it would argue against others attacking you. Allow the Knight to, well, mate with you and pray it lets you go back to your ship instead of insisting you stay in the hive. And double pray that the eggs come out and you don’t risk a chest burster becoming a Womb burster.  

What a terrifying thought.  

“Well. Ladies, gentlemen, Frankie. Let’s go make some alien babies, huh?” You announce at the end of it all, earning laughter all around and new excitement buzzing in the air of a new project.  

Operation: “Romance an alien” was a go.  

--  

You don’t have to look very far. When you wake and suit up, you don’t use the pheromones this time. You hear that same deep trill right outside the ship door and the same loud drag of its tail to alert you to its location. You don’t jump back in fear this time or flinch when it gently bumps its head to your helmet, seeming satisfied of your safety. But you do note how it seems to inhale your scent, lowering its head down to the chest of your suit where you must radiate the most heat. Lowering towards your stomach before it moves back to its original position.  

Memorizing you or scenting you, you couldn’t tell.  

You follow it into the hive the distance away, occasionally seeing it stop to wait for you. Its head lightly tilted to seemingly hear for your footsteps before proceeding. Once you get to the mouth, it hisses high enough and long through the hallways and you hear the piercing noises come right back, a noise you would hear more often coming in.  

‘Do not harm what I have brought back’. Says the Knight’s hiss.  

‘We shall not harm nor alert.’ Says the reply back from the hive.  

Normally reserved for the beasts they brought back from around the planet to indicate this creature was to stay alive. You wonder if there was other intelligent life on the planet that they were also trying to court. The planet was huge and vast, and your team’s main focus had been on the xenomorphs rather than branching out too far unless necessary. It could be possible there was other intelligent life that was hiding around and being attempted to be used as a breeder or mate.  

Once more you are taken to the room where it resided. It doesn’t move you this time, but it does lie on the mouth of the nest once more. Lying on its side, tail moved far behind it, resting its head on one of its skeletal arms. One of its  legs  rests behind the other, exposing the hardly noticeable slit between its legs.  

There were no outward appearance indicators of what genitalia a xenomorph had, only certain body language when courting. It wasn’t going into the nest or resting on all fours, this behavior it was currently exhibiting indicated external genitalia. Which meant your hunch was right about it wanting to lay its eggs in you.  

You show your interest by moving into the nest and the xenomorph reacts with an almost purring growl in its throat of approval. It doesn’t move at all, waiting for you to make your courting gesture.  

If you were a xenomorph, you’d show your interest by exposing yourself however you could. But you instead hiss again. ‘Want to, unsure still’ to allow it to realize you were interested but weren’t satisfied with the length of courting. Once more it trills, rolling onto its abdomen to no longer expose itself and offering its head lowered to you to instead bump your helmet affectionately again. Indicating its patience but determination.  

This is the game you play for an entire month of letting the hive become so used to your presence that pheromones were no longer needed on your suit. This xenomorph waits for you outside your ship every day, waiting to court you in traditional fashions. Furs from skinned beasts are left outside your ship in a pile, different meats placed carefully and frozen nearby, all organs carefully chosen.  

Yet, interesting new additions to the courtship occur. Foliage. Of flowers that you had in your own room. It must have found the same flowers you had, knowing that these clung to your scent so you must have liked them, and left them lovingly atop a pile of furs.  

Xenomorphs were one of the most intelligent life forms out there, and how they learned to adapt to overcome certain obstacles- such as courting a different species- was always so shocking to your team.  

It also started to understand what you were saying, it felt like. Or perhaps it was only understanding the tone at which you said things, you were unsure still. Lillian was trying to decipher that over the details she could see from the camera in your suit.  

Mavrick had cracked a joke that if it was horny enough, maybe it was just desperate to find out if you were saying ‘yes’ yet. To which Frankie had given him a look that resulted in him pouting. For reasons you can only assume meant that they were telling him ‘no head later’.  

The gifts you received over the course of its courtship were: Varied and healthy organs from beasts, flowers- which you had experimented with and got new flowers for your room and it brought you the same flowers you had each time, furs that were carefully skinned and cleaned, and curiously shiny objects. This could be from rocks to gems to things that looked like amber. It was a fascinating development, and well, you were rather smitten with the Knight yourself.  

You’d gotten closer to the point not only could you enter the hive without pheromones, you could also take off your helmet once in its nest. The first time you had done it your heart had been racing out of your chest when it had gently trilled at you. It had rested your foreheads together, obviously taking note that you were warm and no longer encased in a bubble. Its long fingers had gently caressed your face, seeming to outline you as best as it could. It didn’t seem upset by what it found either.  

Now, you’ve exited the ship. Fully suited up and already seeing the Knight waiting for you patiently. It makes that same trill it always does, crawling on all fours towards you before standing to its impressive height. It hunches over more towards your much smaller height, cocking its head when it gently presses its head to yours. You laugh softly when it snorts against your helmet, clearly frustrated you have it on.  

“C’mon, big guy, it’s too cold!” You try to explain. It pauses to take in your voice, mimicking the same tone you say ‘cold’ in with a low grunt. You roll your eyes, hooking your fingers under your helmet as it makes a low hiss with the movement. The xenomorph trills, already ducking its head to help nudge it back and waiting impatiently. You can’t help but smile as its head tilts until you press your warm lips to the smooth front of its head. Immediately it trills, satisfied with getting what it wanted and turning back towards its hive to begin guiding you in.  

You have a bag with you today full of little things like lubricant and a few toys. Foreplay wasn’t really in the books for xenomorphs and you’d spent the better part of this morning preparing for this already.  

You’d been filled with anticipation all week for this, showing your interest throughout the week to the Knight who had clearly been eager at you wanting to move forward. You spent this morning edging yourself, fitting larger and larger toys in you with trembles of your thighs and frustration when you never let yourself cum. Xenomorphs were very kind about making sure each got their own. It was being shown in recent of your studies that a lot of them had sex just for the pleasure of it, too.  

You can only hope the same hospitality is spared to you.  

You know that it can smell your arousal. They had great senses of smell, and the one who saw you as a mate should have known your scent inside and out by now. You’d think xenomorphs weren’t the cuddling or kissing type, but turns out at least this one appreciated them. You think you’d never seen an alien more at ease than when you were showing it how to hold you, hitching your own leg over its waist and hearing it make such happy sounds in its throat.  

Spooning an alien. Who’d have thought?  

Now, as you’re escorted into the hive and into its nest, the courtship begins properly. Once again it lies on the edge of the crater of its nest, one leg behind the other, head resting on its arm and exposing its slit that you can already see leaking this translucent black fluid. Oh, it definitely smelled you. That only makes a shudder wrack through you at the very thought of its patience and desperation.  

You very slowly remove your helmet and set it to the side, stepping into the nest as your fingers find the zipper of your suit. You quietly apologize to Lillian in your head when you shut off the camera along the way, no way did you want them to see this. You’d try and write a detailed report just for her once you got past the embarrassment.  

The suit slides off your shoulders and you set it with your helmet. Patient as ever, the Knight only trills at you as it always does, but you notice its head lift ever so slightly to scent the air. You even get the pleasure of watching the head of its ovipositor slip out of its slit, seeing how it was already drooling with lubrication and desire. Your mouth waters, tempted to show it that there was more warmth to you than just your cunt, but you decide that was for another time.  

 Preferably when it had no eggs that could potentially be slid down your throat.  

Under your suit you wore a tight black tanktop and gray sweatpants, super simple and warm. Your scent must be louder when you remove your suit in full because the sound that the Knight makes sounds like a growl. You gently press your warm hand to the smoothness of its head, soothing it softly. “Shhh. Wait, be patient.” Murmured from your lips, and once more you’re not sure if it understands or just responds to your tone, but it huffs through its nostrils and lies its head back.  

You work out of your top, nipples already tightening with the chilled air. Your fingers run over your soft abdomen, something that always made you smile at your own squishiness. The Knight seemed to like it too, if it constantly trying to press its head against your softness was any indication. Your thumbs hitch in your waistband, sliding them down your rounded thighs with your underwear following with a sliver of slick sticking to it. It makes your face flush at realizing how wet you were.  

You shouldn’t tease, you know you shouldn’t. But you can’t help but take your underwear and hold it in front of its face. Watching its head follow the scent and a low, hungering hiss sliding from its teeth as its hands snatch the fabric from you. It presses the article to its face to inhale deeply, releasing a low growling exhale as its ovipositor slides fully out of its slit.  

Their cocks were always beautiful to you. It was especially thick at the base and coming up almost like a rounded knot that’s to keep them intact to their partner to not lose any eggs, coming all the way up to a tapered head. Ribbed patterns line beneath the head down to the base, where you know it can expand for the eggs to be lain with ease. The slit on the head is wide for the same reasons, leaking this translucent black fluid like it is now in preparation for you. The knot looked as thick as your wrist, doable but definitely going to be a strain, its length looking about seven or eight inches which made you tremble already.  

How...how deep could it lay its eggs in a human? Internal organed xenomorphs had no cervix, no hinderance to this sort of thing. Your breath catches at the anticipation of the very thought it could fit deeper into you. You knew its lubrication also doubled as a muscle relaxer, helping ease their longer and thicker cocks deep within their mates. Would it be enough to ease you to take their eggs into your womb?  

A low hiss reaches your ears and your eyes quickly dart to its face rather than its cock you were eyeing shamelessly. Seems your underwear isn’t doing it anymore. It slowly rises, waiting for you to reject, but you lie back in the soft furs instead, spreading open your legs with a small tremor when you part them.  

Its much larger body pulls itself on top of yours, its smooth head starting at your knees and lifting until it can find your cunt.  Its  cold breath exhales across your flushed and wet flesh, making your hips come up without thinking and pressing to its mouth.  

You can see drool coming down its chin, lifting its head with great resistance to nose at your soft abdomen like it loved so much. It buries its face there, scenting you before its head comes up with almost nuzzle-like gestures at your breasts. It seemed to like the softness you had and you can't help the soft laugh you emit. It felt so...normal to be nuzzled up on.  

You’re suddenly gripped then with a yelp from your lips. Rolled onto your abdomen and your hips being pulled up by bony, long fingers. You’re glad you prepped with toys earlier, feeling the tapered head slide against your lower lips and slipping across your clit in a missed thrust.  

A swear falls from your lips, reaching under you with shaky fingers until you wrap your fingers around its cock. The reaction is instant, a trill falling from its throat and attempting to fuck against your palm. “Wait,  you  big doofus-” You grumble mostly to yourself, but the Knight mimics your tone back how you say ‘wait’, its hips pausing as if confused. Questioning you.  

It gives you time to draw your hips up into its grip, sliding its cock down against you until it catches on your hole. The thrust it gives immediately is sloppy and excited, entering you a few inches before it moves slower. You moan low in your throat, burying your face in your crossed arms under your head as you lean back down, your entire body shaking.  

Its cock wasn’t fleshly like a human’s, almost like a harder silicone feeling made to morph to the shape of your body. It felt cold in comparison to your body, and you can only imagine how hot you feel to it.  

There’s a slow press into you now, its claws digging into your hips and definitely making you bleed. You don’t mind the sharp pain. Though, you do smile when you feel it press at the back of your neck with its cold face. Sweet thing wanting your attention. You lift yourself up onto your hands instead, bowing your back as you reach up and behind you to cup under its jaw to draw its head over your shoulder. The hiss you hear by your face is low and wanting when you clench your inner walls around it, sighing out yourself. “Good. There you go, baby, nice and slow.”   

You’re not sure if you’re speaking to fill the silence or because it seems fond of your voice anymore. Regardless, it works in your favor when you hear a soft trill, its hips moving just as slow in little humps to enter you fully. The knot rests outside you for now, pressing to the rim of your hole but not entering just yet.  

Your head drops and your shoulders heave. You felt so full, something exhilarating about this whole thing. Your thoughts are soon put on pause when you feel its hands press around your abdomen with a tug. You follow the motion, sitting up on your knees and feeling it splay its own long legs out to follow your lower body to accommodate size difference. You’re held back against it, your back to its chest as its arms encircle you like it loved to do. Your hand remains on its jaw, stroking with your thumb in one of the crevices there.  

A cooing noise falls from it and you mimic the sound, resting your cheek against its head as its hips start to hump up into you. You don’t feel any pain, its own lubrication working quick with your own. All you feel is wet and heat pooling in your lower abdomen with each desperate hump up into you. Soft sighs fall from your lips, way different from the growling and hissing you hear nearby your ear with its drool dripping onto the furs below you and onto your shoulder.  

Your free hand reaches down, sliding down past its hand and down to your clit to rub it in circles in sync with its thrusts. It starts to get a bit harder now that you’re squeezing down on it, a moan falling from your lips and your head falling back to its shoulder. You’re aware you’re baring your throat, and it seems the Knight does as well when fingers come up to circle your neck. They don’t squeeze, holding you there with its other hand digging its nails into your hip as its hips slam against you harder.  

Possessive.  

“Fuck-” You hiss out, your body already as your first orgasm hits you. Your fingers circle your clit harder until it’s too much, drawing your hand away to reach behind yourself to grab at the xenomorph’s hip to encourage it to be rougher.   

You don’t get the brutal breeding you expect and desire. Instead, it stops. Slamming deep into you and forcing its knot into you. No pain, but a deep pressure widening you out making a cry fall from your lips, arching your back only to get yanked right back with a low, rumbling growl from its chest. Possessive and quiet.  

You weren’t going anywhere.  

You hold still like forced to, its low snarls settling and its hand on your hip leaving. Its head bows to look down your body as its fingers find your clit to mimic what you had been doing to yourself. God, you always forgot how  intelligent  they were.  

“Ss--shit-” You shudder, your head falling back against its shoulder as soft cries leave you, pushing past your harsh panting. It croons softly in its throat, turning its head to gently bonk your cheek with its head until you turn your head to press soft kisses across the hard carapace. Up until you’re gasping, your abdomen starting to get taut.  

“Oh God, yes, yes, yes like that,  just like that,” You’re whimpering out when it applies more pressure, your knees locking as another orgasm rips through you with ease. You scramble with the  intensity , your free hand gripping its wrist when its fingers keep moving. A sharp whimper leaves you, but it seems to decipher it’s not from pain because the hand on your throat tightens briefly. Quietly telling you not to move as your cunt squeezes around its cock and knot, contracting with every flick of its fingers like it had seen you doing.  

Oh, it liked that your body tightened around it. Filthy little thing was doing it on purpose.  

“Ah, ah, ah-” Soft moaning whines fall from your lips again, shamefully even more turned on by the threat of its claws on your neck. You press your body back against its hard one, only giving more of an opening to your body that it takes with pleasure. Experimenting with circling your clit and the pressure you had put until you’re crying out and straining against the hand on your throat as you cum a third time in record succession.  

Its hand only moves from your clit so it can grab your hip to hold you flush back against it. It can’t move much in you, not with its knot filling you and holding you together, but that doesn’t seem to stop it from humping against your frantically. You’re so out of it, drooling and your eyes fluttering that you hardly feel when the base of its ovipositor begins to fill out a little bigger than its knot.  

You get your answer from earlier on if you would be relaxed enough, because you feel an odd stretch in your lower abdomen. Not painful, just a little odd. You know from experience that their eggs are just about the size of your fist and they could lay up to four. But this xenomorph was bigger and a higher rank. Which could mean that it would have only one or two eggs. You thank your luck on that one, unsure of how many your body could hold.  

“Oh-” You gasp out when you feel it settle into you fully. It’s got a weight to it, felt more with how the xenomorph tries to huddle against your body closer. One of its hands sliding up from your hip to rest on your lower abdomen where it presses lightly over where the pressure rested. You whimper as you’re guided back onto all fours, bracing yourself on your arms and letting your chest rest on your crossed arms again.  

The second egg you can feel when you close your eyes. Again, no pain, just a sliding, thicker pressure up your inner walls until that pressure is thicker in your lower abdomen. There are teeth hovering above the crook of your neck that makes you stiffen, but you’re so out of it you tilt your head and plead with it to bite you. You don’t get that pain, only its face pressing against your neck like it so desperately wanted to but knew it was a bad idea.  

There are a few more violent grinds against your ass before you hear a snarl ripping out of it, going into a high hiss as it cums inside you. Its cum was thick for reasons such as this, made to be thick enough it could help the eggs stick in you and keep you numbed up. You can feel each harsh pulse of its cock as thick ribbons of cum spill into you, spilling out past its knot and onto the furs underneath you and on your inner thighs.  

There’s a moment where you two rest like that. You, overstimulated and practically fuck drunk right now, comfortable with your hips still held high in the air. The Knight, with its arms encircling your waist and applying its weight on your back to relax with lazy rolls of its hips as its orgasm still trails out of it.   

After a few minutes, it slides out of you nice and slow with only some thick cum drooling out of you. You had planned to maybe leave the hive, go and lie down on a table and have Lillian examine you, but you can’t find the strength in your shaking legs. And with the way  it's  now guiding you to lie spooned against its chest all tucked up, you’re going to assume you’re not allowed to leave yet anyway.  

It presses against the top of your head with its face, hands resting protectively over your lower abdomen where you can feel your abdomen bulging out slightly. You whine softly in your throat, grumbling about the cold which gathers its attention to briefly let go of you and pulling three furs atop your body. Right before it goes back to holding you with a satisfied, low trill.  

Guess that answered your question on if it was starting to understand you too, huh?  

You’ll tell Lillian all about it, you think as your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.   

Maybe your alien children can learn to understand English too, are your last thoughts with a smile on your face as you slip into a warmed sleep. Knowing you are safe with the extraterrestrial predator that knocked you up’s embrace.   

[teddi-too]

Male Minotaur x Gender Neutral Reader (NSFW)

A/N: Lemon, 18+, my goodness this plot doesn’t make sense but it’s just a vehicle to the spice, ya know? 

Finally, time away from the city, from work, from everyone. Sure some of your friends thought it was weird you wanted to rent a cabin in the woods for a week by yourself but it was heaven to you. Your job has been stressful lately and with working from home it never really felt like you got a break. You needed to get away, actually away. Out of your home. A chance to decompress and refresh. 

You brought several books with you, some playing cards, and your laptop for when you broke down and needed a screen. The nearest residence was the owner of this cabin and that was nearly a mile away on the other side of the property. You were deep in the woods and you felt comforted by the seclusion. The cabin had everything you needed, a small kitchen that you loaded up with groceries from the nearest town, a surprisingly large bathroom with a huge whirlpool tub, a cozy living room with a gas fireplace, and the bedroom was a cute loft that you had to climb up a ladder to get to. There was a desk near the front window that you could sit and eat or play solitaire at and a small table and chair on the front porch. 

You settled in and made yourself a cup of tea and sat on the porch. It was a long drive and by the time you had checked in, stocked up on groceries and unpacked, the sun was beginning to set. Instead of popping up to make dinner right away, you let yourself just watch the sunset sitting on the porch. The trees were so thick outside the cabin, you couldn’t really see the sunset but it was nice seeing the color change in the trees. The darkness seemed to swallow up the thick forest and you felt comforted knowing you were truly alone. 

The next couple days were simple and lovely just like you had hoped. You slept in, made good meals and laid on the couch reading. But your favorite thing to do was to sit on the front porch and stare out into the woods. There was something healing about breathing in the fresh air and letting yourself do nothing. 

The third day passed by just the same except when you were on the porch eating your dinner, you felt differently than you had before. You didn’t feel the same emptiness from the woods that you did before. It almost felt like something was watching you. You stared at the treeline, scanning for movement and trying to convince your quickening heartbeat that you were, in fact, alone. You stared at the treeline so long you must have gotten dizzy because you swear you saw some greenery moving on its own. A mossy mass of...rocks or something behind the trees looked like it had moved. But that would be ridiculous. Rocks don’t move, moss doesn’t breathe...even though that’s what it definitely looked like it was doing. 

Your throat was dry and even though you felt a little silly, you called out anyway. 

“Hello? Um...trees-forest? Are you...alive? Are you...watching me?”

What the fuck, you immediately thought. Did you just talk to the forest? You stood up and started to gather your plate and silverware. 

“I’m sorry.” You heard a faint, low voice respond. You froze in your tracks, eyes widening to try to see anything in the dusk. “I just liked watching you. Please, don’t be scared.”

Ok, yup. Three days in isolation and you have started hearing voices. You thought for sure it would take longer than that, you thought you could at least make it a week and be ok. You closed your eyes tight and then opened them to scan the treeline again. The mass of moss and rock you had eyed earlier was now gone. Your heart sank. You began to stop forward towards the edge of the porch. 

No, stupid feet. The other way. Inside. Inside! 

“Who are you?” you called again, your voice slightly shaky. You heard some trees groan, some leaves shook, and then out between two trees emerged the most beautiful creature you had ever seen. 

It was tall and broad, its body rippled with muscle and its skin was a cool greenish gray that mimicked the woods around it. It had the head of a bull, with ivory horns extending upward. It had a thick, shaggy mane framing its face that stretched down its neck and covered its shoulder. It’s torso looked like a human man albeit with more muscles than any action movie hero you had ever seen. Your eyes followed along its thick arms down to its hands which nervously turned over and over each other.It’s middle section melted back into the same mossy looking fur of its man and its legs returned to a more bull-like anatomy ending in large hooves. It...he...looked exactly like a minotaur out of a fantasy novel. His face was kind from what you could see, his mane hung shaggily over his eyes a bit. He had to be over seven feet tall. How he had hidden himself so well among the trees was a mystery.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you. You just are so beautiful...I couldn’t help but watch you.” he said, his deep voice getting smaller and smaller as he finished his sentence until watch you came out as a whisper.  You were so mesmerized by this creature any fear you had before subsided.

“It’s ok, do you have a name?” It felt like an odd question, considering it was clearly an intelligent creature that spoke your language but you didn’t know what else to say. What are you? seemed like a terribly rude thing to say. The creature shrugged.

“No, I’m…” he seemed to be searching for words, “the guardian of this forest. Which mostly means I just live here.” You chuckled and he looked at you with a small smile. You told him your name and explained that you were just visiting for a few days. The minotaur knew this cabin well, he liked to come and see who the visitors were. Though, you learned, most of them weren’t as quiet and respectful as you. Most of them came to binge drink and make a mess for a weekend. It made him happy how often you just liked to sit and look out at the forest, his forest. 

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Are there more like you?” you asked, smiling. He seemed to light up at your comment for a moment before the spark dimmed a bit.

“You really think I’m beautiful?” he rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “I’m...the only one that I know of. I’ve been alone since I was a calf.” You frowned at the sadness in his voice. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said and began to walk towards him. He backed up a few steps as you got close. “I’m sorry, should I...keep my distance?”

“No, it’s just...most people are scared of me or...want to...hurt me.” he said while looking at the ground. He massaged his bicep and you noticed a dark scar stretching across his arm. “I usually stay away from people but…I feel drawn to you and I'm not sure why.” He didn’t move further back when you continued to step towards him. 

“I’m so sorry people have been cruel to you. I would never hurt you, I...you’re so…” your words trailed off. You felt drawn towards him too. You looked back at the cabin, wondering if he could even comfortably come inside. While you were looking away, he had closed the distance between you. You turned and looked up at him. You reached your hand out to touch him. There was tension pulsing between your bodies. You wanted him, you couldn’t explain why you wanted to give yourself so freely to him but you did. You were so certain of it. 

The fur around his neck and upper chest that had looked almost like grass and moss from far away turned out to be soft and thick and cool to the touch. Your fingers could nearly disappear into it. He lowered himself so that you were nearly face to face. You stroked him softly from cheek to chest playing in his fur. Your light, wanting touch seemed to relax him and he began to lean towards you. He snout nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He breathed in your scent deeply. You felt a long, thick tongue lick up your neck. It was warm and heavy on your skin. It caused an electric and staticy feeling to pool in your lower abdomen. You realized quickly how badly you wanted him--to explore him, touch him, feel him. 

He pulled away and looked at you earnestly with wanting eyes. His strong hands danced up and down your arms and you weren’t sure if he was reassuring you or himself. You smiled at him and nodded your head, closing your eyes and moving in to kiss him. He circled his arms low around your waist and returned your kiss. Before you realized it, he had pulled your feet off the ground and was holding you against him. He straightened himself and you put your legs around him. He so smoothly and effortlessly navigated your height difference to make it so neither of you were straining to meet each other. Pressing against his body, wrapped in a deep, sloppy kiss your body couldn’t help but react to him. Heat moved throughout your body, concentrating in your core and desire took over you. Holding tight to the giant creature, your hips began to writhe slowly against him. 

You broke from the kiss every so often to check in on him, cupping his jaw in your hands, placing small chaste kisses on his snout, moving your hands through his mane and rubbing his chest. Never parting for long before returning to his mouth. 

“I want you--need you,” you said breathlessly. He leaned over and layed you gently on the hard ground and crouched down onto his knees. He stilled himself for a moment and then reached out his hand to you. 

“I want you to touch me but...I know that I’m...different” he trailed off, his eyes breaking contact with yours. You sat up and closed the distance between you once again and kissed his chest and ran your hands over his muscled body. 

“Please, believe me when I say I want this...I want you. You’re beautiful.” You weren’t sure how else to convince him that you were being sincere so you took your hands away from him and began to remove your clothing. His jaw dropped slightly and his eyes moved all over your body as he took in the sight. He cooed compliments about your figure, your skin, your complexion, he babbled on and on until you were naked in front of him. When you had finished taking off your clothes you looked at him and noticed he was palming his crotch. You touched his arm gently and he moved his hand away to let you see. 

The bulge you barely noticed before had grown bigger and there was a small opening that wasn’t visible earlier. You reached out and traced your fingertips along the opening. It was warm and slick. You cupped the bulge in your hands and began massaging it. Looking up at his face, his eyes were closed tight and he was nodding his head compulsively. His fists were balled up, settled on his hips. He was used to his own hands being his only source of pleasure but he wanted your touch to be what undid him this time. 

As you massaged him, the tip of his penis began to push out of the sheath. The head was round and thick, red and glistening with his own slick. You continued to work the sheath, watching in awe as his full length pushed itself out of his body before falling heavily against his thigh. His cock was long and thick and your body pulsed with your need for it. He parted his thick, muscled thighs, spreading his knees apart further to give you better access. You took a deep breath and your body tightened at the sight wondering what it would feel like to be stuffed with his cock. 

You slowly trailed your fingers along the top of his hard cock before encircling it in your palm. It was heavy and warm, your fingers could barely meet around its girth. You dipped your head lower and dragged your tongue along his member. It was sticky with the cooled slick from his sheath. 

After teasing his length with your tongue, you took him into your mouth. He was so thick, the corners of your mouth felt stretched just taking the tip. You slipped your mouth as far down the shaft as you could and began to suck, bobbing your head lightly along his length. You breathed in through your nose, trying to relax your throat and mouth to take more of him but he was just so large. You resigned to focus in on the head of his cock where you could more easily create suction with your mouth. You stayed there teasing his tip until you could taste his precum begin to weep. His hips jutted forward instinctively, choking you on his length. You pulled away with a cough, drool falling from your mouth. 

You heard him clear his throat, attempting to regain his composure. You smiled up at him and began to move your hand up and down his shaft to extend his pleasure. You reached out with your other hand cupping his testicles and rubbed over one then the other with your thumb. The only sound you could hear was his heavy breathing and his choked back groans. His large hands reached down towards you, pawing at you with no real intention. He was overwhelmed with the sensation of your hands working him. 

His hand cupped your chin gently and pushed lightly on your shoulders to signal you to lay down again. Inching forward on his knees, he grabbed your sides and lifted you up onto his hips so he could reach your entrance more easily. You could feel his hard cock digging into your back and you laid, exposed and vulnerable against him. 

He took his large thumb and stuck it in your mouth, you sucked on it slowly moving your head in an exaggerated way that drove him wild. He pulled back his hand and used his wet thumb to start massaging your entrance; slow large circles just next to your entrance. A cool electric feeling stretched out from your sex throughout your entire body. After teasing your entrance, moving closer and closer with his thumb quickening his pace he moved his hand away, leaving your desire falling off a cliff. 

You whined at the loss of his touch and tried to move your hips to show your need. He smirked, moved your body up on him further and dipped his muzzle down towards your sex. His breath was hot and heavy as he moved his snout over sex wanting to take you in with all his senses. He nuzzled your entrance with his lips briefly before opening his mouth and laying his strong tongue against you. His tongue was wide and flat and moved over your hole with a heaviness that left you wordlessly begging for more. His drool mixed with your own slick left you sopping wet and pulsing with need. He worked the outside of your entrance for a dizzyingly long time before dipping his tongue into you. You could feel his cock twitch beneath you and you knew you both wanted all of each other. 

He tasted you, moving his tongue in and out of you, lapping over your entrance until he was confident you were ready to take his large cock. He longingly moved his hands over your body as he repositioned you. You reached for his cock and stroked it a few more times making sure he was at the same height of his desire as you were. You stared intensely at one another, your bodies pulsing with anticipation. 

He lined himself up with your entrance and you felt his thick cock press against you. 

“Please” you whined, not able to take the slow pace any longer. You knew he wanted to savor this but your body needed him so badly. He pushed into you slowly and you let out a loud gasp as your body clenched and spasmed trying to take him in. Your eyes stung with tears as he continued to move into you, stretching you to your limit. When he got to a place where he felt like he couldn’t push in further, he slowly moved out of you; then back in again. He picked up his pace just slightly moving in and out, working you open with his cock, pushing deeper in as he thrusted. 

He grunted quietly as he continued to move faster and faster and you returned with your own moans. The wet sucking noises of him fucking you filled the cool night and your body felt like it was swimming in pleasure. You tried moving your hips in pace with his to multiply the friction your bodies were experiencing but he was so big and you were so overcome with bliss you got lost in the feeling. 

Making you thunder back into the present moment, you cried out loudly as he placed the heel of his hand into your stomach rutting into you with even more strength than before. The added pressure of his hands on your torso made you see stars and your first orgasm ripped through you without any warning. Your body felt hot and sparks pricked all over your skin as he fucked you through your orgasm, never slowing down. You tried to catch your breath and steady yourself but he began fucking you even faster, pushing into you nearly past your limit as he chased his own release. 

“I-want to see me all over you” he stuttered out, a grunt and thrust punctuating each word. You nodded wordlessly, your head dizzy as your overstimulated hole spasmed around his cock. He pushed into you a few more times before he pulled himself out of you and let you drop roughly to the ground. His voice strained against his desire as he grabbed his cock and started stroking himself. Your body buzzed with anticipation and you started fingering your hole waiting for him to finish all over you. 

His head thrashed, horns cutting wildly through the air, suddenly reminding you of his bull upper half. His pace was erratic as he worked himself to the edge, he stuck his hips forward to move over your body and he came with a roar. Thick ropes of white-hot come erupted from his cock and landed on your torso. He continued to stroke himself, moving his hips as he came, sending his seed all over your neck, face and on the ground around you. His whole body seemed to spasm and he fell forward on to his hands, breathing heavily and hovering above you. The sight of him coming sent another shiver up your body as your hole pulsed around your fingers, desire still swimming around you. 

After pausing for a moment, both of you quiet in your blissed out state, he placed a hand on your chest, fingering his own seed admiring the mess he made of you. He placed a come covered finger over your lips and pushed into your mouth, watching your reaction as you tasted him. You sucked his release off his finger. 

“How many more days are you here?” he panted, still catching his breath. You laughed and put your arms around his thick neck. Your body felt completely drained of all strength and you weren’t sure you’d even be able to lift yourself off the ground right then. 

“Do that again and I might never leave.”

[hollyhomburg]

Of Fire and Love (Pt. 7)

(Dragon! Yoongi x Reader) (Fantasy au!) (Coe-parenting au) 

Summary: You dream, nightmares and sweet memories- Yoongi just tries to hold onto you as best he can but he’s never felt so lonely. 

Genre: Fantasy! au, gender exploration, Coe parenting au, Dragon! Yoongi x Reader, Dragon! Hoseok x Sorcerer! jungkook, Minjoon, Taejin

W/c: 20.0k

Tags: Angst, loss of hold on reality, violence, non-explicit sexual content (taejin), possessive behavior, genderfluid characters, gender non conforming characters, gender exploration, alcohol mention,  

A/n: For those of you who've followed this story you’ll know that I’ve teased there being a hopekook relationship and this chapter touches on their relationship a lot. i dont think it will make anyone uncomfortable because its explicitly stated their love is not sexual- but just a heads up!

-  Hoseok and Jungkook cling to the side of a building, their feet gripping the bare inch bricks just narrowly. This library is old, with drafty long hallways and a crumbling facade that doesn't help their predicament, every other brick crumbles when they step to it. 

- Every few shimmies Jungkook’s feet slip a little and fear lurches in his gut. he uses every bit of his body to cling. Hoseok has no such misgivings about falling into open space- now the arrows- that might frighten him. Their backs are weighed down with books that make it hard to move, while arrows clang below them against the red stone.

- One almost hits Jungkook’s head and Hoseok shoves it closer to the wall.  Panic keeping it laced in Jungkook’s hair, “Keep your head in you idiot!” he shouts over the din and clank of metal armor. The nights and soldiers below them that gather. Every metallic clink against the stone another person come to kill them. Jungkook only grins, but flinches when one strikes closer to Hoseok’s head.

- Searching for books in the human realm isn’t an easy task. Not when all too often they face opposition like this. The humans might be semi-hostile to Jungkook but everyone is out for dragon blood. Enough of the men from this area have already been sent west to the war, but the sheer number of arrows shows that there are still soldiers here guarding this stronghold.

- They hadn’t been here until Jungkook and Hoseok had been spotted. It had been Jungkook’s fault. Dropping a book that echoed loudly- then someone had seen Hoseok’s horns when his hood had fallen and it was all over from there- they’d been made.

- One arrow pins Hoseok’s shirt to the brick as they shimmy along and he rips it loose without a second thought. He can’t shift when it’s like this- it’s too dangerous. Too likely that one of those arrows would hit him and hurt him- unless- “Kookie? any day now!?” Jungkook’s wide eyes are a balm against Hoseok’s frustration, lighting up with blue magic when he puts two and two together. “Oh! Sorry- I’ve got it!”

- The push-pull tide of magic fills the air, trembling with it as Jungkook’s arm glows bright blue along with the whites of his eyes. Every time Jungkook uses his magic Hoseok feels a protective pride flare. Especially when he hears and sees the arrows fall to the ground with a few dozen thuds. Another soldier tries to loose one and it falls like it’s made of lead. Maybe it actually is- maybe that’s the avenue the magic has chosen to take to stop the arrows.

- The soldiers below them stop their flurry brought to awe as the magic makes everything still (even them). The rust crusts in the joints of the armor bringing it to a squeaky halt. The break in the fighting finally gives him an opening to shift. And soon Hoseok is clinging to the side of the tower with claws instead of hands, wings stretching and fluttering. Jungkook gets on his back, a difficult maneuver with the precious books held close.

- One of them slips out and falls onto the stone, and Hoseok swings back around so that Jungkook can lean from his back, hooking his foot around one of Hoseok’s spines and reaching to scoop it up before he rights himself- abdominal muscles straining As he leans over and snatches it from the rooftop.

- Hoseok makes a noise and Jungkook interprets it. “Who you calling a showoff?“ he grins then settles in for a long flight back into dragon territory. A simple strap around Hoseok’s waist keeps Jungkook pinned to his back.  It helps to at least elevate some of the strain.

- The first time they’d ever flown 12 hours straight, Jungkook had slid off of his back with a thunk. Looking up surprised at Hobi who’d sniffed through his hair worriedly, wondering why he’d fallen. “I don’t think I can move my legs” his muscles too sore to even clench. 

- Hoseok had been laughing when he’d shifted. Helping pull Jungkook up- only to have him fall back down again. “You look like a baby deer Koo, come on- help me unpack at least.” They’d spent the rest of the night huddled around the fire, and not once had Hoseok complained about having to get up to fix dinner or stoke the fire.

- Hoseok and Jungkook have been hunting books on and off for the last ten years, it’s not like they’re unused to unprovoked aggression from the humans. Their two sides are at war- and it’s a wonder the humans aren’t more curious about the ragtag pair of book thieves that have been periodically dipping over the battle lines and raiding their libraries.

- Jungkook wonders what rumors if any, are lingering in the human lands. Jungkook would give anything to keep the smile Hoseok shoots him when he asks one night, “What you think they’ll make urban legends about us in 100 years? Keep your books close and your enemies closer?”

- Whatever the rumors, the pair can only hope that none of them make it back to their father and their uncle. If yoongi got wind of what Hoseok and Jungkook were doing without permission- then he might be tempted to end the war just to make sure they stayed safe. But What Yoongi doesn’t know won’t hurt him. If Hoseok and Jungkook were flitting in between the human lands and the dragon lands on occasion just to see if the nearest city even had a library- well then that’s just that.

- Hoseok and Jungkook never spend more than a month or two away from Yoongi and you. The timing of their homestays Often hinging on how successful their search is going and how many books they’ve collected.  Hoseok can only carry so much on his back. They don’t mind coming back periodically to visit and drop off another load. If anything- it gives Seokjin and Yoongi an excuse to take a break or two and the young ones an excuse to enjoy a little coddling.

- Yoongi’s doing better, recently he’s started taking more flights like he used to when Jungkook was a kid. The air does him good and he no longer looks like guilt and sadness and longing are eating away at his soul- like he only comes alive when you wake.

-  Over the years, Yoongi has read himself into a tizzy more than once. Always to be brought back by Seokjin encouraging him to rest his eyes and put the books down for a day or two. “This just doesn’t make any fucking sense- first the fairy anatomy and then this- if we could only get our hands on- ugh!“ 

- Yoongi is about to throw the book and would have if Jin hadn’t caught his wrist. snatching it out of the younger mans hand. Before he can- sparks light up the spine. Yoongi’s anger and fire meeting in the middle- the heat dosent hurt Seokjin’s hand as he extinguishes it with a brush of his palm. Cooling yoongi’s frustration with a knowing look. 

- “Yoongi, you need to sleep.” Yoongi doesn’t fight him on it though both of them know he could if he wanted to. He’s been up for days and the bags under his eyes look dangerously like bruises. “Rest is an investment into future productivity Yoongi- you can’t read forever like this without resting your eyes every now and then.”

- Yoongi has always found it hard to sleep with you gone, why waste the hours when every second spent brings them closer to a cure for mortality. Yoongi hopes it’s only a matter of time and not a matter of ‘if’ they’ll be successful. that question keeps him awake no matter how many days it’s been since he slept. 

-  The next time the boys come home carrying a pile of books for Seokjin and Yoongi to go through Seokjin gives them a look, fingering the spine of one. He corners both of them later- when Yoongi’s away in the kitchens putting a meal together. Happy to have them all home the nesting instinct itching under his skin.

-  He fingers the edge of Hoseok’s shirt, his fingers hooking through an edge and tearing it further with a rip. His magic flares just as quickly to fix it and the tear is gone before the shock has left Hoseok’s face. Seokjin raises an eyebrow at Hoseok’s surprise. Seokjin is dressed in a flowy deep plum shirt- parted to show his chest, the rock at the hollow of his throat pulsing with life but swimming with something darker.

- He’s rightfully angry, “I know an arrow hole when I see one, where have you both been where you’ve been being shot at? Hopefully not in the human world” He taps the side of the book in his hands, “And I distinctly remember losing this book over a night of cards with a wizard 300 years ago- so there’s that too.”

- “It was only once-“ Seokjin gives them a withering look and they both melt “okay- maybe more than a few times, but you know how frustrating it was? For us to stay behind and-”

- Seokjin knows why they had to but still can’t reconcile that with his protective instincts. Before they can go any farther Yoongi comes back with a plate full of sliced meats. The fireplace crackles happily in response to him and Hoseok helps Yoongi set up a grate to fry it. The same recipe for marinated meat that you used to make them when they were children. A celebratory meal steeped in tradition and familiarity to welcome Hoseok and Jungkook home.

- Hoseok starts the discussion when Seokjin asks- pointedly if finding libraries and old dragon castles in the countryside and in the mountains had been any harder than usual. It has been- they ran out of places to search for books in the dragon lands years ago. Though they still occasionally spot a new one when they go over the mountains again. A hidden hovel or a falling down castle that’s abandoned or inhabited.

- “You’ve said it yourself Seokjin; a good portion of our family's records are on the other side of the world. I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal, Hoseok and I are more than capable of looking after ourselves.”

-  Seokjin sighs, running his hands through his hair. Whatever spell he uses to keep it dark must be wearing off, the tips are looking a little silvery these days, it’s Probably stress. The pile of books in the study that they’ve gone through is becoming cumbersome as well they can barely walk around it. There are probably more than 30,000 that Hoseok and Jungkook have collected in the last 10 years.

- What Jungkook’s saying about their family isn’t wrong; Seokjin’s family did settle on the human side of the mountains first. They were responsible for enlightening humanity to the finer parts of magic. Without Seokjin’s family- the humans would probably still be waving sticks around and hoping for gold on the other end. The books they hunt for are the first records and spell books of  witches and wizards that were taught by Seokjin’s father or books from the man himself.

- Not that their paltry party tricks could ever compare to the kind of magic that Seokjin and Jungkook were capable of. But the witches and wizards guilds do have strength in numbers. One which might have a droplet compared to the ocean of a sorcerer’s power, but 100? 1,000? That might be enough to match some spells.

- If the struggle at the border was enough to judge the powers of the guild, then they certainly were a formidable force to deal with. Their spells enchanting the humans swords and armor, making them resistant if not impervious to most fire. That was the only reason why the dragons hadn’t been able to immediately decimate the human army. They had to fight the harder way- with tooth and claw and brute force.

- The dragons would always have strength on their side and the humans would always have the numbers and carelessness with their lives. So short- you’d think they’d be more careful with their lives- but no. Over the years the death tolls have risen on both sides. It helps the human’s odds that they outnumber the dragons five to one.  

-  It’s been years since they left home- though it still feels weird to think of them ‘leaving’ in any capacity since they still come back almost as much as they leave. In the past few years, Hoseok and Jungkook have often flown across the battle lines or near them. But never close enough to see the battle or the carnage. 

- Most of the time they divert their course north and fly over the tall mountains through brisk winds that would have Jungkook's muscles chilled for hours. a predicament usually only fixed by Hoseok curling up with his warm throat and chest cuddled around his too cold soulmate. quieting the protective urge in his stomach that said to breathe fire over the sorcerer- some sort of instinct, probably something instinctively dragon that he barely manages to repress. 

-  They’ve hunted books through the crags of long empty castles, through cities forgotten and new. They spend a good two months last year in the smaller dragon city to the south. Yoongi sniveled his nose up at them when they told him that’s where they wanted to go next. It felt a lot different than the northern city, the buildings rough made from wood and easily burnt and rebuilt. Definitely wilder and less aristocratic than the north. 

- It’d burned down in the last war- so it’s no wonder the dragons there seem less attached to the buildings. some dragon had lit their board house on fire the first night they’d been there, roused from smoke and a shout. hoseok had shifted and carried jungkook out with his teeth hooked into jungkook’s shirt- lifting the younger like a cat would a kitten. 

- Seokjin had gifted a map to Hoseok for his last birthday. It’s a delicate bit of magic, spelled to be paper-thin and bendable but the ink never fading or flaking off. Unable to be ripped or stained. The little red dot that shows Hoseok’s location and a black dot for Jungkook's. It changes each time they move- so that they know exactly where they are. Hoseok’s dot even gets a little more feathery when he shifts. The ink feeling fuzzy to the touch.  

- The battle lines to the south also change too, rusty orange ink rough to the touch- with every league that the dragons push into the human lands ticking a lines with on the map. all So that hoseok knows how far he has to fly out of the way to avoid it if he wants too.

- Jungkook is just a little bit curious to see what dragons look like in battle, but a cautionary look from Jin and his father was enough to extinguish that possibility. “Trust me- it’s not a thing you should want to see” their father had said cryptically. “You never talk about the last war dad- what was it like?”

- “Bloody and long” was all Yoongi had answered. Because in truth- he’d given as much as he could give to that war. The end had left him broken and with the taste of blood in his mouth that just wouldn’t leave. He’d spent months looking for something in the mountains- an itch under his skin that wasn’t for more hoard. 

- The wanting hadn’t abated until he met you and known deep in his bones that he’d never fight for another thing in his life. he’d found what his dragon soul hungered for more than gold or diamonds or anything that glitterd. a family- his hatchlings and his mate.  

- But Hoseok and Jungkook are fully grown now and Yoongi still finds himself begging them not to go close to that battle- to stay out of it. Feeling like control and safety is slipping through his claws. The thought of both of them- of gentle Hobi and curious Jungkook getting a taste for carnage like that- Yoongi doesn’t ever want it to happen.

-  Even though they already did that day in the manor house all those years ago. Still- a father can’t help but want to protect his hatchlings. Even if they’re both taller than him now they’re still his hatchlings. Jungkook especially likes to playfully lean his arm on his shoulders And Yoongi can’t ever correct him. He would let the youngster do anything without little more than an annoyed sigh, just as he had let him swing from his horns when he was a baby.

- When Seokjin had gifted the map, Hoseok had asked why they’re where two dots and not just one. “In case you get separated” the older sorcerer had said, a faint flush on his cheeks as he let Jungkook manhandle him into position on the couch perfect for snuggling. Sending smoke-filled bubbles to smart Jungkook’s nose when he keeps touching his thighs and rolling his eyes at his nephew’s endless touchy feely-ness. But even Hoseok can see the way that Seokjin relaxes with both of them around. Their presence a welcome reprieve from-

-  “Yoongi- would you mind not breathing your lizard breath all over your sons?” Seokjin says haughty. Yoongi raises his massive head from where the coffee table should be (moved to make room for yoongi in his dragon form). blinking at Seokjin before his tongue darts out to lick at Hoseok’s hands- ignoring the older sorcerer. 

- Hoseok can feel his happiness rippling out from his father at having his hatchlings back in his nest. He flicks his tongue out to hit Seokjin’s palm too and the elder recoils with a disgusted noise that makes Hoseok and Jungkook laugh.

-  As if on queue, a book on the shelf falls, interrupting the moment.

-  Every head flicks in the direction of the movement, the flecks of dust in the room pause, hanging in its shafts of light. the air too still to be from anything other than Seokjin’s magic or Jungkook’s- it doesn’t discriminate. After another moment. Hoseok gets up and puts the book back. the spine feels warm to the touch and for a moment- Hoseok holds onto it- savoring the warmth before he puts the book back on the shelf. 

- There have been more moments like that than they’re all willing to admit, and despite their conversations- no one wants to admit what it is. The things that move on their own or flowers that Seokjin’s watched be plucked and fall to the ground in neat concentric circles. He’d gone out into the garden and found a whole pile of blooms- piles around a suspiciously shaped lump. It’s always the multi colored ones. Those moments are as startling as they are special. 

-  Everytime you wake Seokjin scolds you for it.

-  “You realize the more you try to act outside of the dream world the more likely it is that you won’t be able to return back to your body?” Seokjin had snapped. Tae a happy puddle in his arms. You’re tearing into the food on the table while Tae just nibbles. He’s never hungry in the mornings really. Hadn’t been even when he’d been awake.

-  Yoongi wonders if it has anything to do with the little field trips your soul takes outside of your body. The breaks you take from dreaming when you travel as a ghost in their world. Moving books and picking flowers and the countless other little moments.

- “It’s not like I’m trying to control it Seokjin, it just kind of happens. when I watch you guys- when I feel closer to you- it's easier” you definitely do not mention you’re only ever knocked out of your body after you’ve had a nightmare, but Taehyung knows. He looks up at your words, an egg yolk sliding out of his spoon and onto his plate bursting golden.

-  Taehyung meets your eyes and you shake your head imperceptibly, and he keeps eating, declining to offer up the information that would surely make Seokjin and Yoongi more concerned. But the clock is ticking- and they only have 18 hours with you this year. No one wants to waste it arguing even if it does scare Yoongi. 

- Every time when you wake and it takes a little longer for you to stir, Taehyung always awake and upright before you. Yoongi stroking your back in small circles- calling your name as you furrow your eyebrows and blink awake. kissing your face a few dozen times before you’re truly back. It only took 3 kisses the first year- and now it takes at least 8. Yoongi’s the kind of dragon that keeps track of that sort of thing. 

- Later in their own private time together- Tae asks Seokjin with a pout “Why can’t I come out of the dream world to see you guys like she can Jinnie?” Seokjin washes his back in the bath, his hand warm and soapy. Jin exults in washing his love with long strokes, a little scratchy just the way that Tae likes it. just gentle enough to make his love squirm and make the water slosh against the sides of the silver tub. “It's not a thing you should want Tae, none of us know the long-term effects.”

- “But still,” Taehyung’s eyes are like warm honey over peaches, “it would be nice to see you more often.” Seokjin hums a gorgeous sound and Tae relaxes further into his lover's hold. Seokjin’s hands thumbing along his sternum counting his ribs and indulging in the touch. Tae shivers, shifting uneasily in the water, neediness sinking into his core like hot fire. Seokjin’s hand slips below the water and the layer of bubbles.

- “there are any number of reasons why the magic doesn’t want to work on her. It’s been a while and she’s probably just getting used to it, I probably just have to tweak the spell a little bit for y/n” Taehyung sighs, Seokjin’s mouth swallowing a bitten-off moan, kissing down his lovers throat and forsaking his mouth. Tae’s hips rock up, knocking the warm water out of the tub and onto the slate floor with a slosh that neither of them pay much mind to. “I’m not sure I want to hear another name from your lips when you’ve got your hands on me.”

-  Seokjin smirks against Tae’s neck, the movement of his hand keeping up its pace under the water. His actions and his sly smirk betraying his words “Why wouldn’t I? We’re having a conversation, aren’t we? Or is something distracting you my love? Would you rather have me chanting your name?” like an incantation- if love were a spell then tae and jin would have the strongest. 

-  It is nice to see your family even for a few seconds on the occasion that you leave your body. It makes you feel like you’re helping, even just a little bit to watch over them. You try to disrupt something just to let them know you’re there. The first few years- the only thing you can manage is blowing out candles. but it gets easier to move books or make pages flip over as time goes on. and you get to ruffle their hair or pet over it as they sleep Where you stand and watch. Making sure their dreams don’t turn into nightmares.

- You wish you could say the same for your own dreams, but those are far more difficult to control.

-  Often Yoongi will look at whatever just moved, and speak into the open air, through the glass barrier of the dream you can barely hear him. But he’ll go to the couch and sit, hold out his hand palm up on the cushion and you’ll touch it. Knowing by the way he shivers- that he can just barely feel the shape of a hand touching his. Yoongi has always had a thing for hand holding. And it’s worth it- just from the way he smiles.

- But too Yoongi it just feels like you’re already a ghost. It just makes him yearn for a time when it wasn’t like this. How will it feel? When he’s been without you longer than he was ever with you? If they don’t find a cure for mortality soon- then he’ll find out. His boys too.

-  It feels like he can almost taste you on the air when you come and visit them in-between your naps (its easier for Yoongi to say they’re just that- just really long naps- even if it makes him feel childish, the weight of ‘eternal sleep’ is just too heavy on his mind some days).

-  For that reason, he favors his dragon from more than his human one these days. it’s not like he can see you at all in either, but he can tell when you’re there and almost smell you when he’s in dragon form. And that feels more real than curling up around your coffin upstairs (or when he starts to worry that you actually are dead- that you won’t be able to come back).  

-  It’s been a long time since they started searching but it barely feels like a second to them. Like hardly any time has passed at all. Such is the way of immortals- years pass like months, and days like hours. It’s been years since Hoseok and Jungkook truly stopped aging. They’re both frozen somewhere in their twenties, their hair keeps growing, but their faces never change, their bodies don’t change either accept to get stronger or weaker with the care they show them. 

-  Jungkook doesn’t like to think about his age when he can help it. He still feels like a little kid whenever Yoongi and Seokjin look at him, sharing a special secret adult look that he’s not sure he’ll ever be capable of giving. He’s very content to stay the baby of their little family.

-  But being the baby also means that Jungkook gets treated like a child too.

-  “We’ve been over this, it's too dangerous boys,” Yoongi says it like it will make his heart break to see them in danger. If Yoongi knew they’d been shot at- even by one arrow- he’d fly over to the human cities and start leveling them one by one.

-  “Not anymore, we’re not kids dad” Hoseok looks fluffed up, his curly hair and wild, so long it almost brushes his shoulders like Jungkook’s. (More than once Seokjin has snipped his fingers threateningly at it, “you both look wilder than the wind I swear, one night I’m going to take a pair of scissors to you whether you like it or not.”)

-  That is just another thing that makes Hoseok ache all through his chest, and he’s never been able to put a finger on why it makes him uncomfortable. The thought of needing to have short hair for whatever reason. The same feeling lights up in his chest when Jungkook continues- “ right! we’re not boys- we’re men!” Jungkook’s swinging feet under his chair beg to differ. 

- Yoongi sucks on his lower lip, hands tightening over the back of Jin’s chair. They talked about this possibility while the boys were gone, after the last time when they had a similar argument. In the years since your departure, Jin’s taken on something of a parental role with the boys- and it’s nice to have a second set of ears again. Even if it would make both Yoongi and Jin shriek indignantly to be compared to anything like what you and yoongi had. “They’re not children anymore Yoongi, you’re going to have to start letting them take their own risks sooner rather than later”

- “But I already did,” I already let them not be here he wants to say. Every single parental instinct of his telling him to keep his hatchlings close. But it’s better than it was before; now he rarely feels the urge to fly on after them and drag them back by the scruff of their necks. Sometimes when he’s out flying he pretends he’s doing just that.

-  Seokjin taps his fingers against the table, sparks dancing between his fingertips. “As much as your parental concern is sweet, you have to admit- nothing can hurt Jungkook or me in any meaningful way.” Seokjin is being as soft as he can be. “You know this, and it's not like Hoseok is unformidable either.”

-  Hobi gives Jungkook a toothy grin at that. Seokjin lets Yoongi stew with it for a moment. And the feeling in Hoseok’s chest dissipates. Strange. Though he’s glad to have it gone. Though he knows it will probably have him up later, turning in bed while Jungkook sleeps beside him in the little mock nests they’ve made together since they were kids. Sure that something must be wrong with him- something other than the feeling poisoning the happiness in his chest.

-  “If you don’t let them go they might choose to go all on their own. Would you rather find out after? Or before?” Hoseok and Jungkook barely manage to keep a straight face. Their father will put two and two together if they even so much as grin. Yoongi’s pout as he looks down at the table and weighs the options is cute. Under the table, Hoseok’s leg jumps with nervous energy.

-  You certainly think letting them go is a better option- standing in the corner of the room, not that any of your family can see you when you’re like this. A specter and a ghost and just as lonely. How your hand itches to reach out and smooth out that pout on Yoongi’s face. But you can’t, not in this form. Upstairs in your glass coffin, your hand twitches. Reaching out to do the touching that your soul wants to do.

- Yoongi can’t argue with logic like that even if he wants to. Honesty and freedom are better than a protective cage and lies by omission on both sides- no matter how loving the cage is.

-   “You can go-“ he starts, interrupted by Hoseok and Jungkook’s excited whoops, Jungkook tossing his chopsticks into the hair where they hover and spin like pinwheels, before he jumps to Hoseok’s side, grinning at him while Hoseok pumps a fist in the air. The fire in the hearth flares higher from Hoseok happiness Sending sparks onto the floor. “yahhhhhh you’re going to burn the meat, and this carpet is 500 years old!” Seokjin fans it with his hand as if to knock the sparks off of the carpet and back onto the slate.

- They pull themselves over to Yoongi’s side and drag him into a tight hug, Jungkook pressing his forehead against Yoongi’s cheek in thanks. Yoongi goes stiff at first and then melts as they squeeze him tight. Hoseok hooking his chin over Yoongi’s narrow shoulder. Pulling away only to immediately begin to lay out plans of where they want to go first. Jungkook jumps up to go get that map, already dreaming Cities and wizarding guilds that they only know from the maps and Seokjin’s stories.

-  Not that they haven’t been to half of them already- but going there with Yoongi’s blessing is much more exciting than sneaking around behind their backs. There were a few places that they were too worried to brave alone and without backup should something bad happen. But Now they can ask questions and learn where more books might be hidden, what cities to avoid and the secrets Seokjin might know of each.

-   “Maybe a little bit of a change of scenery will do you good” Seokjin comments, a small smile tugging at his lips at the boy's excitement. Hoseok almost asks if he wants to come too- just to get out for a little bit. But the moment passes when jungkook unfurls the map in front of the hearth. Seokjin never leaves Tae’s side unless he has to.  “I’ll teach you some cloaking spells and the like to hide Hobi’s horns.” His hands hover on Yoongi’s shoulders, reassuring him that he’s made the right choice.

-  Weeks later, on the other side of the mountains Hoseok and Jungkook cling to a rooftop again pressing their bodies close to the slate roofs. A few new books in their bag and a group of angry soldiers shouting at them from below the parapet, enchanted arrows seeking them out until Jungkook cuts them off with a wave of his hand, learning to do it first off rather than wait until they are shot at.

- “Was this what we bargained for Hobi?” Jungkook asks with a grin as he looks over at his soul bonded partner. Hobi answers his grin with one of his own. “Maybe more- but I think we’ll raise hell either way.” Jungkook laughs, “imagine dad’s face when we tell him about this.”

-    There isn’t a place they’d both rather be.

-  Hoseok and Jungkook don’t like to fly at night when they can avoid it. but they need to when they’re closer to the border- where traveling bands of warriors might have sneaked around the battlelines and sunk into dragon territory. It’s safer to sink into the humans lands under the cover of night and fly up ahead. They’ve flown too close to traveling bands of warriors during the day before and though their arrows had fallen short it was still frightening to fly over a hilltop and be suddenly shot at.

-   After accumulating a fresh thrush of books in a rather small library from the southern human lands- They’ll head to the coast for a day or two and stay at Jimin’s and Namjoon’s seaside cottage castle crossing over the mountains just north of the battlefield. It would be shorter to just fly straight home. But they have a few more books than usual this time. And the sea air and updrafts will make the flight north easier on Hoseok.

- Too many times have they overshot their load. only realizing when Hoseok had landed to find his once broken shoulder mottled and strained, unable to fly or even move it in human form for several days after. Staying at Namjoon and Jimin’s cottage always brings back fond memories too, though their favorite fairy and uncle Joonie isn’t there of course still south in the thick of the war.

- They’d run into Jimin a few years back- though they still send regular letters north to stay in contact. Jimin had spotted them in the skies and fluttered in their direction. One minute the only thing they’d been able to see was puffy clouds and the next, Jimin falling out of the sky whooping in joy when they saw them. His wings moving so quickly that they where nearly invisible. 

-  He’d made camp with them and lingered for as long as he could. It was nice to have someone familiar with them on the road. A face that loves them. And Jimin is perfect at giving them the right amount of affection.

-  Since the wars started Jimin has split his time between helping Namjoon at the battlefront and going back and forth to the fairy world in an attempt to negotiate an alliance between them and the dragons. he’s Constantly trying to convince the royal family to come to the dragon’s aid.

- It’s not something jimin likes to consider- but if the humans managed to push through dragon land. They’re no telling how far they’d try to go. and if the dragons side seemed bountiful to human kind- then the fairy world would be something out of heaven. 

-  But just like the last war the fey are refusing to get involved and Just because they won’t help doesn’t mean Jimin won’t. He’s been Namjoon’s right-hand man in the war, the hidden second general to the dragon army. He’d even convinced a few of his brothers and sisters to join in the battle.

-  “How do you actually get to the fairy world? Isn’t it like- on the other side of the ocean? Can you fly that far?” they’re stretched out around a fire, the woods a dark and impenetrable barrier beyond their little hallow of sparks. There isn’t anything that the three of them fear in these woods. though they had heard the single howl of a wolf earlier- lonely and echoic in the tall hills that eventually melt into the eastern mountains. 

- Jimin had split his affection equally- running his fingers through Hoseok’s hair and head rested on one thigh and then through Jungkook’s on the other. It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other. Even longer since they’ve been small like Jimin misses. It’s hard to reconcile these gangly twenty-somethings with the tiny dragon and human he used to baby.

- Jimin doesn't like to think of the children now, the ones at the capitol without families (orphaned or displaced by the war) or his own...forgotten hopes. War is not the time to want something so gentle. Not when jimin needs to be strong as much for his mates sake as for the world. Jimin needs to forget his own hopes now more than ever. Even if seeing Jungkook and Hoseok reminds him so much of those times when he’d felt like a parent- as close as he and namjoon had ever gotten to having kids of their own. 

- Maybe as close as they ever would get. 

- Jungkook and Hobi remember seeing the fey ships at the market. Their hulls like skeletons, made of silver and a strange clear material, not glass- but certainly not any kind of wood. Jimin shakes their head at hoseoks question- the fey world is not on the other side of the ocean. It’s an easy mistake to make. “ I don’t think I could fly there if I wanted to-it's more like stepping through a very cold doorway. You can come there with me one day if you want.”

- “Do you think they’d have anything that-“ “that would turn you immortal?” it goes without saying that Jimin knows why Hoseok asks. Sucks on their lower lip as their eyes turned shadowed with your ghost. God- Hoseok shivers, he hates thinking that you’re dead, hates when everyone acts like you are.

-  “Probably not, fey have good memories and there isn’t much of a reason to write things down, but it’s still a beautiful city- makes home look like ruins,” Jimin says the words like he wishes he hadn’t already. Because all of them know how likely it is one day- that the dragon city might one day fall to ruins.

-  There is more than one live ghost- that threatens to haunt them.

-  Jungkook can’t help but remember that day as they get close to where they’d run into Jimin the first time. It’s been a long day of flying, and they crossed over the majority of the mountains in one good push. As the sun dips close to the horizon coloring the world in orange and gold, Hoseok and Jungkook spot a glittering speckle among the forested hills of the Southern part of dragon territory. A small waterfall that runs clear and strong.

- He leans over, gripping the band around hoseok’s waist with one hand and pointing in it’s direction with the other until he gets Hoseok’s attention and he spots it too, listing to the side and settling into a slow dive. Jungkook hooks his feet into the squishy side of Hoseok’s ribs to make sure he won’t fall off. His thighs protesting from the strain of gripping Hoseok’s back for many hours.

- He remembers when they’d been younger- Hoseok nearly flipping when they’d first flown together. Jungkook eager but still nervous on his back, hugging Hoseok’s neck so so tight. Jungkook remembers when his neck got thicker- and suddenly he couldn’t link his hands around it- how he’d clinged with every other muscle in his body- only airborne for a few minutes until they both plumited towards the ground in a way that made Jungkook’s stomach lurch. Tossed onto the soft grass in a flurry of feathers and dandelions puffing.

-  They’d both tumbled, Hoseok shifting mid-roll spitting grass and dandelion fluff. “Stop putting your feet there! I’m ticklish!!” he’d laughed. That was a far cry from how he felt now, Hoseok was used enough to it that it didn’t bother him. Jungkook an extension of himself on his back, tucking close when they flew fast and leaning to help Hoseok make those tight turns easier.

- They’re not far enough away from the battlefront that they can entirely let down their guard. But they’re both tired enough to make the risk unavoidable. They’re Only a spare 50 miles away is where the fighting’s thickest. It’s probably okay, There probably isn’t any danger here. Maybe they shouldn’t light a fire- just in case. 

- As Hoseok touches down into the pebbled bank of the waterfall his claws sink into the sand with his and Jungkook’s combined weight, buffering the trees with flaps of his wings. Keeping them tucked in tight so that they don’t hit any stray branches. Jungkook slides off his back- hitting the ground with a lurch, almost falling in his tiredness. Jungkook has always had that floppy puppy way about him when he gets sleepy- every bit of his body a little more limp and sweet than usual (if that’s even possible).

- The water runs clear and cold as Jungkook stoops to fill up their canteens, unlatching their packs from Hoseok’s back with a push of magic. The roaring from the falls nearly blocks out the sounds of Hoseok’s bones shifting. His hair windswept, fangs clicking against the ones on his lower mouth- what he needs to say doesn’t necessitate a full shift. “I’m going to circle overhead and find us a place to make camp okay?”

- It’s too dangerous to camp so close to a water source. They can hardly hear each other over shout over the thunder of the falls- let alone any intruders that might try and sneak upon them in the night. Jungkook makes a small noise in agreement, the hours of flying in silence lingering.

-  Hoseok can tell his soul bonded partner is only a few minutes away from needing to sleep- probably even forgetting to eat, which is pretty typical as far as traveling goes. Jungkook will push himself to the brink before he drops, and it’s Hoseok’s job to make sure that doesn’t happen. He’d never say anything to Jungkook but it’s a little scary to see the magic sustain him even farther than Hoseok’s own stamina will take him.The magic will suppress his need to sleep and eat the more he uses his magic. 

- When Jungkook stretches in the morning, arms above his head pulling his shirt up to show a few inches of skin, Hoseok takes each and every rib that shows as a reminder. As Hoseok circles overhead, he reminds himself that he has to make Jungkook eat something before he falls asleep.

- Hoseok usually does a good job of keeping Jungkook well taken care of and Jungkook takes care of him in turn. Many a night have they curled up together; Hobi in his feathers and Jungkook rubbing soft soothing motions over the sensitive’s scales of his face, they’re never more than a few feet apart these days. 

-  They go hours without talking during the day, but the silence never bothers either of them. Who else can you truly be silent with if not your soulmate? Sometimes- Jungkook looks at Hoseok and wonders ‘are you thinking what I’m thinking? Or are your thoughts and feelings just as much a mystery as my own are to me?’

-  Is it a soulmate bond? Or just a soul bond? Sometimes, Jungkook isn’t sure- and finds himself questioning that which never should be questioned. he’d never asked Jin if his and Namjoon’s bond had drifted into more romantic territory- sensing there was a story there somehow that maybe the younger one shouldn’t pry into. 

-  Hoseok takes off, the wind from his wings buffering his clothes; the flowers that grow near the waterfall- red and bright, sway under the weight of their heavy nectar. 

-  Jungkook breathes in then out, settling himself into wait. It’s easier for Hobi to search while he’s not on his back; it’s a little harder for him to make his tight turns with all of that weight altering his center of gravity. No matter how hard he tries Jungkook doesn’t have the same sense of balance that Hoseok has. He’s been unseated by Hoseok landing in trees more than once.

-  When Jungkook remembers enough to check back in with Seokjin, the elder is still very intent on teaching him how to alter that. Jungkook may have mastered a hundred or so spells, but he still doesn’t wield magic in the same easy way that Seokjin does. He hears his uncle’s voice now; ‘Breathe in Jungkook, feel the energy around you, the pulse of that which gives things their life- and you- your powers.’ 

- And ‘don’t get frustrated- you’ve got all the time in the world to learn magic. You can’t expect to be as good as me with only a few years under your belt... especially given the circumstances.’

- It's hard to find time to practice on the road, So Jungkook takes a second for this, closes his eyes, and reaches out, his mind like a bubble, the edges of it swirling and turning multicolored. He feels the offal energy in those red flowers. Poisonous his magic tells him, stay away- sweet but don’t eat. The water turns and curls and he feels the life of the little fish below in the deepest parts, the way the air moves as it falls with the water, and endless hello between the two.

- He’s so calm, so intent on being peaceful (breathing with the slowly moving things that are immortal like him) that he doesn’t hear the rustle of movement behind him. The sharp eyes that have caught his human scent and found it unwelcome here. The dragon in the woods. They eye the thin sword on the ground, the only one Jungkook still keeps for those just in case moments of misfortune.

-  Jungkook hasn’t been a sorcerer long enough to smell like the magic, and this far into dragon territory; it’s no wonder why they consider him a threat. Though most dragons know there is another sorcerer alive by now or have heard of him. Yoongi is a historical figure after all, and their family does have proximity to Namjoon and the dragon council.

-  Before they exhausted the dragon realms libraries they’d used that to their advantage often. There are many older dragons that own those old castles, charmed by his and Hoseok’s mere mention of the council. Many had asked how their father was doing.

-  Hoseok was usually the one who talked with them and heard their grievances; (too many taxes, too few social programs- the usual), while Jungkook raids their libraries and fills out his little booklet so that he knows which books come from where. He and Hoseok aren’t intending to be thieves so hopefully they’ll be able to return them (Most of those books now sit in a pile in Seokjin’s library, pages unturned for years with no drive to give them back- but it’s the thought that counts right?)

- The dragons that hoard books are the worst ones to deal with- always-eyeing Hoseok like he’s here to steal their trove of musty moldy tombs. As if the golden bands that line his fingers and dot his ears now aren’t enough of an indication of where Hoseok’s proclivities lie.

- Hoseok’s hoarded object will be gold, not unlike his father. Though you’d once called Yoongi a crow- only interested in that which was pretty and shiny. Many a time when they were children, Hoseok had watched their father growl at you playfully and snag you close by your waist, snapping his teeth close to your neck and nuzzling there, “maybe that’s why I’ve kept you.”

-  Most dragon folks are much more interested in Hoseok than they are in Jungkook.  But the gossip mills and rumors haven’t touched the people here this far out into the countryside. No one knows who- or more importantly what Jungkook is.

- Least of all the dragon in the woods. 

- The growl ripples and Jungkook straightens, searching in the cover of trees. The hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He instantly goes on the offensive, the waterfall behind him goes still in the magic as does the softly falling leaves, hovering in the air like baubles- like time has stopped.

- The magic reaches out at the threat with greedy hands, and the shadows part around it, letting in the hazy afternoon goldenness that glints off of sharp claws and even sharper teeth.

- Jungkook is used to dragons more so than he is to humans, but the sight of an aggressive one is still enough to have him nervous. He holds his hand out, showing that he’s unarmed. He sets a foot back- boot sloshing in the water, sending one of their packs tumbling in surprise. “I’m not- I’m not a threat- calm down- I’m no soldier.” his voice shakes.

- He’s never been one to attack first when it comes to dragons But this one stalks forward with Jungkook as it’s prey. Tail raised like its ready to attack. They’re about as old and as large as Hoseok if not a little larger and meatier. Their mouth sparking with bright yellow fire. Eyes angry and unchecked by restraint.

- And still- Jungkook isn’t afraid, and it takes him a moment to realize why, even when he sees the dragon preparing to spit jet of fire in his direction. It’s not that the magic has made him reckless; Jungkook just knows in his heart that nothing can hurt him.

- But if it tries- then the magic might act without Jungkook knowing. The magic will always protect its host and there’s no telling what damage it might do to his opponent. “Please- please don’t do that” why does is own voice sound tired to his ears? “I can’t be held responsible for what happens if you do.” If Jungkook weren’t scared for the dragon’s safety he’d release a tired sigh.

- Nothing is interesting anymore when nothing can hurt you.

- The dragon growls before spitting it’s fire- and Jungkook is just about to hold up his hands to throw the protective bubble around him when Hoseok falls out of the sky. Crashing down in front of him. Wings flaring to stop the fire from crashing into Jungkook. Dealing out a savage kick that sends the other dragon out of the shadows and into the light.

- Jungkook’s breath hitches.

- They’re the same species- or if not the same then similar. Their feathers mix in the fight- Ruddy red yanked out by Hoseok’s claws falling to the ground with Hoseok’s bright crimson coral. Rather spill feathers than spill blood.

- Hoseok doesn’t notice much about the other dragon beyond a particularly strong scent in his nose. When he spotted them overhead he acted without another thought. Air going out from under his wings and fiery anger filling his heart when he saw them. No one flashes their fire at Jungkook without him retaliating. 

- He manages to pin the dragon for a moment before they turn, swiping out with their wing. Sending small stones scattering in Jungkook’s direction, One nearly hits his face before the magic hurls it in a different direction. Jungkook flinches regardless. 

-  For the first time- Jungkook can see the differences between Hoseok and his species. Where Hoseok has dark red feathers on his underbelly they have white golden ones, their secondary feathers are different too- striped with a slightly darker red like blue jays would be striped blue-black. Comparatively- Hoseok is more colorful but less ornate.

- Where Hoseok’s horns go in theirs point out, the other dragon tries to bash their head into Hoseok’s sideways. Hoseok flips them over with a push of his tail. Their wings tangle, flap against the ground in a thwack that leaves the poison flowers crumpled, but then Hoseok get his jaws around the other dragon's neck and the fight is as good as over.

- His growl  ripples out along the forest floor making the leaves shake. He doesn’t mean to really hurt them but as the other dragon moves against his jaw and a little bit of blood splatters. A shallow cut on their neck. The dragon continuing to thrash even with Hoseok’s jaws around their throat until they yield. It's obvious that Hoseok is the only one out of the two of them that’s been trained to fight, those sparring sessions with their father and his schooling at the academy paying off.

- The dragon shifts below Hoseok. Red feathers melt away into red-brown hair. the girl that shifts below Hoseok is so much smaller and vulnerable compared to her dragon form. “You’re one of us! Sorry- just got startled by the human!” she’s not scared of having Hoseok’s teeth so close to her, still bent over her with his mouth parted, nearly as wide as she is tall. She pushes his snout away with one hand and Hoseok- blinking perplexed- lets her. She looks like the kind of woman that isn’t easily scared of anything.

- Her clothes are grubby and worn from weeks on the road, her skirt thick and woolen pulled over her legs. She’s doing a good job of concealing how scared she is but Jungkook sees her fear in the slight tremble of her shoulders as Hoseok stays shifted between her and Jungkook as if he doesn’t believe that she won't be a threat anymore. Hoseok’s tail flicks agitated, splashing into the water.

- Jungkook sees another flash of movement at the edge of his vision, brings up his hand in defense as he turns. But the smaller heads in the woods just look curious and frightened. Two other small dragons, a small one sandy with fluffy feathers, a hatchling whereas the other is shifted. Her horns are a deep bronze. They nearly get caught in the underbrush as she cocks her head like a bird.

- “He’s a city thing.” she comments at the smaller dragon, which sniffles and snorts around her waist. He curls around the shifted one with his head hidden behind their back. Shy- Just like Hobi was when he was younger.

- They’re others of his kind, the same species. Jungkook knew they had to exist but he doesn’t know why he’s so shocked.

- Hoseok finally shifts, obviously furious, a head taller than the woman and instantly combative. Her blood a harsh brand at his mouth, red and dripping around his chin. “Don’t you have a little more sense to wait and see if he was doing anything harmful? God-” freaking savages Hoseok curses internally- but then immediately berates himself for that choice of language.

- That kind of rhetoric was the words that dragons from the capital often used to refer to the dragons that wanted to exist out here where they were naturally more comfortable. Unburdened by the comforts and expectations of polite society. The girl tosses her long dark hair, matching his energy with her hands on her hips, “well he should know better than to come into dragon land unaccompanied-“

- “He wasn’t unaccompanied- he has me, I scent marked him this morning, and if you stopped to use your senses instead of just going fire first and thought second- You’d have realized he’s spoken for.” Jungkook remembers the scenting and barely suppresses a flush.

-  Hoseok had extensively rubbed his chin all over Jungkook’s chest this morning. They’d been curled up in the dewdrops, staying cozy until the absolute last moment they had to leave the small clearing where they’d made camp, a hanging valley in the mountains. Secluded, safe, and quiet. 

- It makes Jungkook shy to think everyone can smell that on him- that they’d been so close. and in the next second he’s questioning his own shyness- what was there to be shy about? Hoseok is his soul-bonded partner so it’s only natural…right?

- The girl sniffs the air, crossing her arms. The shallow gash under her jaw is already healing. Really- it wasn’t more than a scratch, and Hoseok won't feel guilty for that- not when it was her who tried to move when she obviously should have yielded the fight to him. “You’re right- he does smell like you” the way she says this- like she thinks it’s a bad thing but that’s rich when she stinks like something heavy and heady. A sweet scent that’s so strong it hurts Hoseok’s nose. No one else has ever smelled this way to him before. 

-  Another older dragon dashes through the forest, accompanied by a third- both of them are male and at least as old as Jungkook and Hobi. Hoseok steps a little more firmly in front of Jungkook. Hiding him from view.

-  “What’s going on? We heard a roar?” the smaller one asks, though the larger of the two turns to the female dragon his eyes only for her. His thumb running against her blood-soaked throat, checking to make sure she’s not hurt. The second he verifies she’s not hurt he turns his attention to Hoseok, putting himself in front of her the same way Hobi had stepped in front of Jungkook. He even steps up- about to shove Hoseok but she catches him around the waist. Stopping him from hurting Hoseok. 

- Jungkook takes a second to size the three of them up- he and hoseok could definitely take them in a fight, he shakes off his trepidation and steps up too- holding the glare of the smaller of the two men. 

-  More of that smell fills Hoseok’s nose and he wants to choke on it, or gag. Hoseok scoffs, arms rippling in his shirt. (Jungkook’s brain sure chooses the weirdest things to fixate on, but when did Hoseok gain so much muscle?) Jungkook reaches out to tug on Hoseok’s sleeve, “Hobi- it’s okay, let's just go,” Hoseok’s eyes lose their anger the second he looks back at Jungkook, hot fire melting to burning coals.

- Jungkook doesn’t like to be hated by dragons, even if he’s used to it by now and grew up with it. Hoseok’s priorities shift in a second; to getting Jungkook away and where they can be alone and safe unthreatened in their little bubble. He’d rather make sure Jungkook was safe and comfortable than devote any more energy to these people. “It doesn’t matter Hobi.”

- The woman that Hoseok’s fought goes white as a sheet, her knees going weak in a second. “What did you just say?” the beefier male dragon steps forward and Hoseok barely manages the impulse to cover his nose. The other one sends a nervous glance at the two of them, then back at the kids.

-  A knowing look shared between all of them, and Jungkook is hit with the realization that something is about to change. And in the same second, it happens before Jungkook can tell what it is and protect Hoseok from it. The woman pushes the beefy man to the side, stepping up to Hoseok.

- “Did you just say Hobi? What’s your name?” the woman is still staring at Hoseok open-mouthed, and all at once- Jungkook sees it. The same way their hair falls, their face shape, their similar small noses, and their eyes. The kind of familiarity that only genetics can cause.

- “My name is Hoseok,” Hobi says, and she rushes forward, tears spilling over her cheeks, Hoseok flinches back from her hands, “I thought you were dead- I thought you were gone- Hoba- I’m so sorry- I-” 

- Now it's Jungkook’s turn to put himself in-between her and Hobi. Catching her wrists in both of his. though the larger dragon’s nostrils flare at her being touched- he’s gentle when he takes her form Jungkook’s hold a second before her legs give out and she devolves into sobs. Holding her protectively against his chest as she cries, staring at Hoseok like she’s seeing a ghost.

-  Hoseok looks stricken for a moment before it hits him “Dawon- my sister's name was Dawon. Is that you?” she nods, eyes still shining as she drinks in Hoseok, wiping the tears away so she can see him more. The other smaller male dragon grimaces- looking about as uncomfortable as jungkook feels. 

-  “You have a sister” Jungkook breathes, a weird feeling of betrayal welling up in him. “You didn’t tell me.” Hoseok is scared- that’s the only emotion Jungkook can pin down when he turns, his hand closing around Jungkook’s shoulder, “I didn’t know- I always assumed she’d died. And I haven’t-“ 

- Jungkook sees something settle between Hoseok’s shoulders, the tension dissipating “I barely remember you. I’m sorry.” And he really is, her sadness doesn't well in him a protective urge- he feels nothing at all but discomfort as he watches a stranger cry over him. He wishes he remembered her like she remembers him.

- “If it helps,” the dragon holding dawon says, “she thought you were dead too” he holds out his hand, “I’m Jinseok and this is my brother Felix, what’s your name human?”

- The little ones seem to be the perfect distraction- the midsized one shifting- while the hatchling bounds forward in their direction. Felix is finally knocked out of his reverie to try and snag them by their feathers but missing at the last moment. They flutter around Jungkook’s and Hoseok’s feet- curious at the newcomers. It gives dawon the opportunity to wipe her eyes.

- The larger one of them barely braves enough to sniff at Jungkook's hand, recoiling when he smells the magic sparking at his nose. Shifting with a pop. Her hair is red-tipped like Dawon’s, but black at the roots. “You smell funny,” she says before she pops back into her dragon form The smaller hatchling brushes up against Hoseok’s legs as a cat would weaving between his ankles.

- Though he doesn’t say it aggressively, Jungkook still feels his annoyance prick at this and at the whole meeting. “i’m Not human- but my name’s Jungkook, I’m Hoseok’s brother,” the small one shifts back and forth with a crack, “how can you be his brother if you’re not a dragon?”

-  “Areum!” Felix scolds. trying to grab at her again as she shifts and darts away. “It’s okay- we- we can talk about it,” Hoseok says, Hand smoothing over the head of the smaller one, the hatchling presses up into Hoseok’s hand.  

- As Dawon gets her feet underneath her the other dragon- Jinseok- who hoseok gathers is her mate judging from the way he’s been trying to comfort her steadies her with a hand on her elbow. He’s significantly meatier than felix- who like Hoseok is lithe and delicate by comparison.

- And Jungkook knows without being able to smell him that maybe- this means he’s an alpha. Not all dragons split themselves up into designations of alpha, beta, and omega. When they were younger Jungkook pored over every book they could come by about dragons to learn about Hoseok’s type.

- “Why are you even reading about me- you know you can just ask Namjoon right?” Hoseok had teased in the old library of their manor house, a book from jimin’s library on the study table. “Cuz I wanna know everything about you- don’t you want to know too? Which one you are?”

- “Not really- it doesn’t matter to me” and maybe back then it didn’t. Neither Namjoon or Yoongi were the kind of dragon that split into designations and neither could tell. Jungkook wonders if that’s still true. If Hoseok still doesn’t know- it’s been so long and Jungkook’s never asked, he wonders if the others can tell.

-  “Come this way- we’ve already set up camp and you both should join us,” the smaller one shifts finally, hair fluffy and red-blond just like their feathers, tugging on Dawon’s skirt. He’s a soft sweet thing, barely more than a toddler. “why is it all like that unnie?” pointing behind Jungkook and Hoseok.

- They all turn, and Jungkook isn’t at all surprised to see the waterfall still frozen in time, no sound of it tumbling, still the same way it was when Dawon first attacked. The other small dragon tries to touch the water's edge and finds it impenetrable. Like it’s glass. 

- Jungkook leans down and runs his hand through it letting it ripple slowly- much to the excitement of the youngsters who stand on the surface. Pouncing and trying to break it. Neither of them can break through the surface like Jungkook. “Kookie,” Hoseok asks, “sorry- that’s my fault.” He holds up his hands and with a flash the water unfreezes and resumes its rushing and roaring. The older child falls ankle-deep into the water, squawking and splashing back to the shore- Shaking her feathers out.

- The dragons go white, Felix mutters a low curse. “We’d heard about another sorcerer- but we didn’t think” Jungkook rubs his hands on his thighs, picking up his pack, suddenly shy. Still Hoseok and Dawon stare at each other- this time not trying to get close.

- Jungkook sighs, the heaviness in his chest aching. “You said you had camp set up already?”

- Hours later after the fires been stoked and the foods been made and the sun has set, Jungkook tries not to let the food in his mouth taste like ash. Rolling it against his tongue, the meat-rich with spices as he watches Hoseok and Dawon from across the fire. Ignoring the clamor of Felix wrestling the hatchlings into a makeshift nest.

- at one point tonight Hoseok had mistakenly referred to the two hatchlings as his sister’s children and she’d laughed, her mate blushing and melting underneath her playful look. They’re not her kids, but that they’re all orphans from one of the last attacks at the border before the war began. In much the same boat as Dawon was when their nest was destroyed. The group of three are on their way north to drop the youngsters off in the capital before they head back to the battlefront.

- the two children seem terribly attached to the group of three-  Hoseok comments on this. Felix looks down at the small one- the little boy curled up in his lap, cheek pillowed against Felix’s thigh. His voice hushed and pained “We want to fight. Even if it means we have to leave them, we can’t take care of them like they need to be taken care of.” 

- Jungkook doesn’t say that you were younger than he was when you first started taking care of him and Hobi. But things are significantly faster passed for humans. And maybe parenthood has more to do with personality and attitude than age. If Jungkook had to judge it- he’d say that out of this group- Felix seems the fondest of the hatchlings.

- Jungkook doesn’t intrude much onto their conversation. For the most part he just sits across the fire with his empty bowl and listens. Nursing his skein of wine that they’ve so graciously gifted him and Hoseok. Marveling at the refilling spell that jungkook shows them half way through the night when it begins to run dry. 

They don’t notice the difference- but to Jungkook the wine tastes flat and bitter the magic stealing away the joy of its taste. There are some things that the magic just can't recreate and maybe jungkook’s just sensitive to that. 

- But it does enough to liberate his anxiety regardless; Jungkook’s head is spinning as he watches the dragons, feeling apart from them on the other side of the fire. The two youngsters sleep on soft packs a little bit away, packs piled up to keep the light of the fire out of their eyes. 

- “How did you- how did you survive? Did you run away?” (The memories that Jungkook’s seen flicker back across his eyes, a tiny Hoseok sitting in a treehouse nest, hiding until his mother came. “Stay here- your sister will be back in a moment” and then Hoseok leaving, heading out into the fray of the battle. So small and so so brave.)

- Jungkook tightens his lips. Hoseok knows what he saw that day when he became a sorcerer and they don’t have many secrets between the two of them. But this feels too private for Jungkook to pipe up. The fact that he might be the only one of the three of them that has a clear picture of what happened that day lingers on his mind. 

- Jungkook wonders, and has asked Seokjin about how, and why- the magic showed him what it did. ‘I think it probably wanted you to understand, wanted you to know what had happened and how it did. Every sorcerer has a different specialty, maybe yours is time.’

- “I almost didn’t, I went out to fight but our parents were already-“ Hoseok cuts himself off. Everyone knows what happened and he doesn’t need to say it in any detail. “I went back for you- but you weren’t there- and the others were leaving.“ she doesn’t need to say anymore. Takes a swig of her wineskin too, the words rolling off her tongue better with the alcohol lubricating them. “Two other hatchlings got killed because I went back to look for you.” 

- Hoseok doesn’t have anything to say about that. He’d been as good as dead, and she must have been about 11 when the attack happened. Hoseok would tell her that he forgives her but really there’s nothing to forgive. “What have you been doing since then, where did you end up?” Hoseok needs to ask- needs to know. What could have been his life if Yoongi had never found him?

- It says something that this woman in front of him left him for dead, while their father didn’t. Now that her scent buffs over him from the hot wind he thinks he recognizes it. In the first few weeks he’d been with you he remembers missing her scent. Longing to curl up around it and the rest of his nest. 

- Hoseok remembers smelling Jungkook His snout pressed to Jungkook’s black curls trying to recreate the same smell. It smells kind of like family- but not really. Jungkook would never smell the same way she did- and that was a good thing. Hoseok subtly leans away so that more of it doesn’t get in his nose. Craving Jungkook’s clean sweet scent across the fire. 

- “I ended up getting adopted by their rookery” she gestures to both of the boys Felix leans back on his hand's feet playing with the soil while he gazes at her fondly. Felix is the only one of them who doesn’t have horns, instead- his dragon mark manifests itself in his clawed feet. 

- That’s how I would look at her if we’d grown up together Hoseok thinks. It’s clear they’re close though he can already tell her bond with the alpha runs deeper than her bond with him. “Their parents died three years ago in one of the first battles, we were sent north to the city and the academy before we were approved by the council to head south when we found them.”

- “Hoseok studied at the academy too” jungkook supplies quiet, no one but hoseok acknowledges he spoke. 

- In their little nest, the two hatchlings breathe on, “we were trying to make it to the battlefront to finally fight but now that we’ve got them- we’re on our way back to the city.” Hoseok sees the way that Jinseok touches her hand, soft and cradling. It’s strange to Hoseok, who doesn’t often pick up on the scents of other dragons that those of his own kind smell so strong.

- Dawon smells sweet and cloying, like a baked cake or like an overly ripe fruit. Nearly spoiled. Whereas Jinseok smells like incense and burning oranges (a smell that Hoseok finds it hard to like to be honest), and Felix smells like the edge of winter and fall, clear air, fresh in a way. Other dragon’s scents have never been so pungent to him- even his own. if they smell so bad he wonders what he must smell like. 

- “How did you…” Hoseok’s eyes hover on the tender way they hold each other hand, Jinseok brushes over the scent gland on the inside of Dawson’s wrist something so intimate and gentle. He can see the way she viscerally shivers.  “You’re both mated right?” he asks, wants to know, both of them blush but nod eagerly. 

-  Felix leans back further. “I told them to wait until after the war but-“ he lifts his shoulders, “when you know you know.” Dawon smiles brightly in his direction, knocking her forehead with Jinseok. “You’re not-” Dawon sends a glance in Jungkook’s direction as if shaking her head at the very thought. Jungkook bristles (and so does Hoseok) but as if sensing some sort of possible conflict, Felix pipes up. “It makes sense that you’re not since you're like me, we don’t often mate.”

-  Confusion replaces the tension  as everyone turns to Felix, Hoseok’s eyebrows furrow. Something’s not lining up “what do you mean?” Jungkook asks. Hoseok is wide-eyed “how am I like you?”  Felix- seeming to realize that he’s overstepped or supplied information that he shouldn’t have, has the good sense to look a little bashful. “You didn’t know? You’re a beta-”

- Hoseok and jungkook share a startled glance, hoseok's hands shake a little- he tries to hide it- but Jungkook notices (Jungkook always notices). Hoseok had never thought it mattered- but now it feels like it does. the way that felix says it- like it’s something to be happy about. “You didn’t know? ah- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to” 

- “It’s alright it's just-” Hoseok looks down his hands tightening into fists, a small smile pricking at the corner of his mouth. “I’m a beta?” Jungkook can’t help but feel like he’s slipping even further away his breath hitching. Felix relocates to Hoseok’s side, taking his shaking hand in one of his “yes, you’re a beta- like me. there aren’t many of us left- even fewer now, but you’re a beta Hoseok.”

- Jungkook can’t stop himself, physically can’t keep himself in his seat at the sight of Hoseok and the other beta sitting so close on the tree stump. The way his sister seems so close on the other side in Jungkook’s spot. Felix touches Hoseok’s neck- the spot where Jungkook knows his scent gland is even if he can’t smell Hoseok the way the dragons do. explaining to hoseok what he smells like- It makes Jungkook’s blood boil with an acrid something that feels like wanting and shame at being so impossibly jealous.

- So he gets up and walks to the edge of the makeshift camp trampling someone’s feathers as he goes. Hoseok starts after him and the alpha makes an unhappy grunt at Hoseok leaving. Almost reaching out.

- Logically Jungkook knows Jinseok is his sister’s mate- so of course, he’d be worried about her younger brother leaving- especially if it hurt the feelings of Dawon. But Jungkook can’t help but hate that they’re already trying to stake a claim over Hoseok. Typical alpha behavior already trying to exert his will over someone he barely knows.

-   Jungkook doesn’t know if Hoseok had felt his displeasure down the threads of their bond, but he calls Jungkook’s name again as he stalks into the woods. Jungkook ignores it, stomping carefully through a grove of ankle-high toadstools that glow a faint pink. They’re enough like to see by, and they illuminate the forest in great swathes. A fairy lifts its head from the surface as he jostles one, hissing in Jungkook’s direction as he disturbs their sleep.

-  “Kookie slowdown- just STOP” Hoseok has never shouted at Jungkook and sounded like that. Jungkook’s so surprised he stops in his tracks. He steps on a toadstool and it winks out- the rosy glow beneath them diminishing. A flurry of sprites are startled from their hallow by hoseok's shout, the cloud moving sleepily away from the clearing, wings whistling in the quiet. When he turns around, Hoseok’s stricken expression is lit from below, his lower lip glossy from the wine.

-  One of the things about their bond is that Hoseok doesn’t have to wonder if Jungkook is upset. He can feel it echoing hot into his own body, jealousy and anger and deep underneath- fear. Fear that Hoseok had found something he’d been looking for that Jungkook couldn’t offer.

-  Jungkook can’t get the happy expression out of his head- the way Hoseok had looked when they’d told him. “I’m a beta” the smile like an answer he’d been searching for but hadn’t found. Jungkook couldn’t fit into that system- couldn’t be an alpha or a beta or omega. He could just be Jungkook.

-  And For the first time, being only that doesn’t feel like enough for Hoseok. Hoseok had never cared that Jungkook was a dragon or human but now it feels like it matters.

- “Do you- are you going to stay with them Hoseok?” Jungkook’s voice doesn’t sound like his own. Hoseok recoils at the mere suggestion of it like he’s just been slapped “what?! Of course not- we’re going to leave in the morning? And then they’ll head south. Dawon and I have already talked about it while you were getting firewood.” Hoseok reaches out to grab Jungkook’s wrist but Jungkook takes a step back- out of Hoseok's reach. 

- “It didn’t look like you had any intention of leaving just then” Hoseok steps forward into Jungkook’s space. Between them, personal space rarely exists, but now, Jungkook feels like he he needs some. Jungkook never thought their bond might hurt- but now he’s worried it is.

- “You don’t need to be scared Kookie,” Hoseok says because he can feel his fear, “I don’t want you to feel scared.” one of the terrible things about their bond is that Hoseok can feel everything every emotion. Good and bad, secret and shared all wound in an anxious ball that only Hoseok can tease through.

-  “Maybe it would help- if I knew what you were thinking” because thoughts and feelings aren’t the same things. hoseok knows jungkook is feeling this way- but can’t understand why more than a good guess. 

-  Jungkook sits on the edge of a stump, a fallen tree, and beside him, Hoseok stoops to sit too. Careful to rearrange their feet so that they don’t hurt any of the toadstools, through the underbrush they glimmer and bloom more brilliant than flowers. 

- They remind Jungkook of the flowers that grow in aunty Jimin and uncle Namjoon’s house. Jungkook doesn’t watch them, leaning his head on Hoseok’s shoulder, looking up at him from his perch. After a second, Hoseok pulls him closer, pacifying him with the contact.  

-  Hoseok starts slow. “You know im different.” it seems silly to say- to voice this when jungkook can feel the otherness in his bones. “that I feel like I’ve always been in-between kind of in the same way that Jimin’s been in-between.” jungkook’s egear nodds encourage Hoseok on to talk more. 

- “I’ve never been worried about it because I knew- I know whatever it is- that I feel loved- I know you love me.” Jungkook’s heart feels like it’s going to shake in his chest, lit from below. Hoseok reaches out, touches his cheek in just the right way that Jungkook knows it’s not- not that sort of love. The thing that’s built itself into something formidable in his chest.

-   A love that is neither purely platonic nor brotherly or romantic- something different and new and definitely not sexual but still love. Hoseok is apart of Jungkook’s soul in a way that nothing else could be. There is no space left in his heart. Nothing left for anyone else. All of Jungkook belongs to this and their bond.

-  Briefly, he wonders if maybe all this confusion is just Jungkook’s magical body getting re-used to the bond. Jis magical body can feel it so much more than his human body ever could.

- “I know” Jungkook feels breathless- but the whole in-between thing, he knew that too. For years Jungkook Has watched Hoseok battle with his hair enough times to know that the frustration was deeper than any superficial change. Jungkook has seen the looks- the longing when he sees something pretty and golden.

- When they were younger, Hoseok jokingly put on one of your corsets, almost too big for him. You’d loved it- thought it was just the cutest thing and hadn’t made him take it off until bedtime. “I promise you don’t want to sleep with it on Hoseok.”

- “This- all of them- Dawon” Hoseok takes Jungkook’s hand- more of a routine then any motion- and unlike before Jungkook lets him. “that just feels like a reason for all of that- that discomfort. If i’m a beta- then it all makes sense you know? but still I-” 

- Hoseok steals himself to say the next words sighing them out “-I don’t think I could love anyone the way that mom loves dad you know” Jungkook thinks those words should hurt. But they don’t. He’s been thinking about the pain recently. How their father is their mother’s constant shadow, a ghost that cannot sleep, a love that haunts more than it loves.  

- No question. Yoongi would tear apart himself for you if given the chance. But Hoseok- Hoseok doesn’t know if he’s ever felt something like that with such intensity. Sure he’d fight to the death for Jungkook and fight even harder if something was to separate them. But was that foundation built on the same kind of love? Could more love even fit in the space of his heart- with so much Jungkook already filling it up? Could this love change when it has no room to grow? 

- It would be easier if they were bloodily related, jungkook realizes- then there would be no question. But the fact of the matter is that any romantic relationships that they might have with other people would feel like too much of a betrayal on both sides.

- Hoseok and Jungkook cannot love each other the way Yoongi loves you. and yet- Jungkook doesn’t want that with anyone else. Can’t even think about loving someone who isn’t Hoseok.  Jungkook holds Hoseok’s hand to his face for one moment, then lets it go- lets the idea of this fall away, “I’m sorry for getting angry- let's go back” 

- When they go back Hoseok sits next to Jungkook on the log. The others give them both a measured look- like theyre trying to find any remaining discord between their bond, leaning back satisfied when they find none. 

- Jungkook doesn't need to know what they talked about while they were gone. Especially when hoseok immediately launches into another conversation with dawon- talking through their childhoods- and the parents that they’d both eventually found. “I think you’d really like my mom, she’s like a healer- a good one too” Hoseok can’t help but boast. “Healed my shoulder after-“ he trails off but tilts to show her how he can roll it.

- Jinseok comes over and inspects Hoseok’s shoulder, tilting it between his big hands and unlike before- it doesn’t make Jungkook jealous, (but that might have something to do with Hoseok’s hand on his thigh). Jinseok’s eyes are appraising when he lets it go “of course you healed! I’ve taken a few tumbles myself over the last few years. Almost thought my tail was gonna fall off that one time.” Felix laughs and Dawon rolls her eyes at it. “Yes we’re all aware of your stupidity that one time when-”

- “You’ll always be my person Kookie- I don’t need anyone else. I don’t want anyone else” Hoseok tells him when they’re pressed close underneath their bed things, set out underneath the stars. They’re both Significantly more full of wine than they’d been before and Hoseok’s words are nearly slurry.  

- “I think…I think I might be a little broken.” Hoseok’s says like the words are a secret, eyes fluttering with tiredness. Jungkook presses closer in reply like Jungkook is making up for pieces Hoseok might be missing. He presses his forehead to Hoseok’s. Hoseok smells like home- Hoseok will always be home to Jungkook.

- “If you’re broken, I’m broken too” Jungkook’s words are cushioned against the skin of Hoseok’s shoulder. That night, Hoseok lies on his back and Jungkook slings a leg over his thighs. they revel in the closeness, loving every moment.

- Jungkook is already asleep- but Hoseok speaks anyway. “I don’t need anything else but you Kookie.”

- The next morning the two groups part ways. Dawon hugs Hoseok so tight that Jungkook feels his own spine ache a little. Hoseok must have explained to her last night about their goal of saving you. she seems like she understands why they need to leave. But Even so, she’s a little teary-eyed, reluctant to let him go. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Hoseok nods, his red curls bouncing, not a hit of hesitation. 

- Hoseok hands her a little scroll. If they do make it to the Southern front where Namjoon is, the scroll will make sure that she and her flock are well taken care of by their uncles. Hoseok thinks that Jimin and Namjoon would like his older sister. That she’ll fit in well with the army. 

- It isn’t until a few days later when they’re staying at uncle Namjoon and Jimin’s house that Jungkook and Hoseok have a chance to talk about any of it again. Jungkook could feel the flickers of uncertainty down their bond, judging that Hoseok needed to parse through his feeling and figure out what he needed to say. 

- They only stay for the night, happy to have a familiar bed instead of curling up under the stars before they fly north. The house is empty besides them, though a housekeeper still comes by every day to water Jimin’s plants and make sure too much dust doesn’t settle. 

- They ready for a long day of flying in one of the many guest rooms. Jungkook is just leaning down to tie his boots when he catches Hoseok looking at himself in the mirror. Running a brush through his curls. Hoseok thinks back through his memories of this house- and of the fairy and dragon that should be here with them. And particularly- words that Jimin said to Hoseok long ago when he’d asked about Himin’s gender. 

- Hoseok can’t remember how old he was- but he remembers the fairy bending down to his level in the garden. “To tell you the truth, being a girl or a boy doesn’t matter much in our part of the world. What matters is that you’re good to the people who need you and kind to the people that don’t when you meet,”

- Its that memory that gives Hoseok the strength to finally meet Jungkook’s gaze in the mirror. “I think…I want to grow out my hair.” 

-“Like aunt Jiminie?” Jungkook asks, standing and moving to stand behind him, Jungkook’s hands play in the small hairs at the back of Hoseok’s neck, and he leans forward to sniff, Hoseok already smells like the ocean. “Yeah” Hoseok looks worried- like it might not have Jungkook’s approval. the set of his shoulders tense like he’s readying jungkook to say something negative. But there isn’t a change he could make that would put Jungkook’s love and devotion in jeopardy. hoseok knows that but the worry still lingers. 

- Jungkook tangles a hand in Hoseok’s hair, his reflection grinning back at Hoseok- Boyish and beautiful in a way that makes hoseok ache. “We’ll grow it out together” and they do, flying back and forth across the world. When Jungkook cuts his- Hoseok doesn’t. All until it’s down to his shoulders. The first time Yoongi sees he doesn’t even mention it- not even a little bit- too busy preening and what can only be called nesting. 

- It’s something he’s started to do over the years to relieve his stress, piling up every single soft thing in the room around where your glass coffin is. No doubt preparing for you’re waking in a few days. A healthy flush in his cheeks that hadn’t been there last time they’d been home. 

- Seokjin doesn’t say anything, but he does tug on the end of Hoseok’s hair, twining the long red strand around his fingers. He doesn’t say anything like he might have before, sensing Hoseok’s tenseness. He leaves a few spells tacked to his and Jungkook’s door spells for hair lengthening and to change the color should Hoseok desire it. 

- Yoongi is so happy to have them home he doesn’t even notice anything’s different until the day Hoseok gets into your makeup collection. It’s only for them, just a tiny bit of rouge on his cheeks and to plump up his lips. Yoongi puts down his book when Hoseok walks in, eyes tracking him as he walks in. and Hoseok feels the worry sink underneath their skin before Seokjin taps Yoongi with his book, and they both go back to reading. 

- But when Hoseok goes to his room later he finds a tiny pile of cosmetics on his bedside table. A delicate sea green brocade shirt that’s flowy- all but the sleeves opaque and embroidered with tiny flowers. It looks like something jimin would wear and Hoseok touches it with a reference he doesn’t quite know how to handle. A fondness growing in his heart. 

- The next time they leave, Yoongi corners him, while not corners him- but sidles up to him while he’s on the back patio when the sun is just cresting over the trees just past sunrise. Hoseok might be an early riser but Seokjin and Jungkook still need a little while to sleep. “So, should I call you she now? Is that better for you?” 

- Trust yoongi to go straight to the point. He’s so awkward, so cagey and quiet. So obviously wanting to offer comfort and understanding but unsure how to reach out. He’s used to using the rolling pronouns with jimin, but to use them for his son- his child- will take a second. It’s better to ask than wonder. 

- “No, not yet- if ever.” and then in the quiet of the morning, a simple truth, “they is fine for me dad.”

- “When did you know?” Yoongi has to wonder, had you and him not being open enough? You’d both never talked to Jungkook and Hoseok about jimin, but you’d both believed you’d raised your children to come to you when they had a question or a concern. And Yoongi doesn’t like the idea that Hoseok could have been holding onto these feelings for some time. too afraid to be honest. 

- Hoseok doesn’t answer right away, because there isn’t a good one. Was it the way he’d never played with strictly the girls or boys in grade school? The way he’d often found himself clinging to you and wanting to dress in your pretty fabrics than the drab black clothes his father favored? 

- it was hard to tell what if anything had made Hoseok first question their gender. Did his betaness cause it? Or was the difference caused by not settling purely into one side? “I met my sister.” is all he can say, the only bit of information it makes sense to proffer up. 

- That- out of everything they might have said does get a reaction out of Yoongi. his hands tightening on the edge of the stone wall. “I didn’t know she was still alive.”

- “Neither did I” Hoseok busies their hands with playing with the flowers that have gathered along the rock wall, small and pink. The ever spring around them so delicate and careful. The exact way that Hoseok feels today. “She told me I’m a beta, and after that- it all kind of makes sense?” 

- Yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat. Then suddenly, turns his golden eyes on his…child. (That train of thought will take some time getting used to) “Well if there’s anything I can be doing better- let me know okay?” he pulses Hoseok in for a quick scent mark, and the sudden affection nudges a purr from Hoseok’s throat. But overall the conversation just leaves them feeling soft and taken care of, understood and accepted in a way Hoseok had never realized they’d craved.  

- By the time they leave, Yoongi is pushing a small velvet sack of coins in their directions. “You should get a few things that fit you better the next time you're in the city.” 

- And they do, Hoseok and Jungkook work their way through the cloth market with a vigor they haven’t found in years, fine silks and velvets- perfect for the cold weather up north. Most in rich tones of gold, purple and red- red is Hoseok’s favorite color. Hoseok gets their ears pierced on a whim- fills his studs with little bits of gold that make them glow when they catch sight of themselves in a mirror.  

- And when they come back after a day of shopping. It's Jungkook who pulls him close. Running a finger over the corner of their mouth to correct the placement of their lipstick. A fresh tube. Sometimes Hoseok doesn’t bother putting it on, or with the more cumbersome pretty clothes, but if they’re going to see anyone, even if that someone is just Jungkook- the red lip color stays. 

- When you wake a few months later; you cup Hoseok’s cheek- hands still a little shaky and reluctant to move. “You look-” you search Hoseok’s eyes for something- anything that would show misgivings, “it looks so pretty Hobi” Hoseok plays with their fingers in their lap. It’s a cute behavior, one that Jungkook’s noticed appears more as time goes on and hoseok gets more comfortable with changing their body.

- “Don’t you mean handsome?” they say, swallowing back a lump in their throat. Their long hair is pulled back today, to give the same appearance of masculinity at least from the front. Jungkook braided it this morning, he’s been learning how to do it for hoseok- not quiet as nimble with their fingers yet like Jungkook is. The moments in the morning when Jungkook brushes their hair and winds it back- are some of his favorites- the soft moments he can spend with hoseok. Hoseok didn’t want to scare you too bad, from the front- they almost look the same. “Not if you don’t want me to mean it. You can be pretty too.”

-It’s not until the next time Hoseok and Jungkook set out that they actually quantify it in words. “I think I’m like Jimin- well not- like jimin. But I think I could be.” aunty and uncle Jimin, who’s just as comfortable in a skirt as they are in a pair of pants. Jungkook leans over, combing through Hoseok’s long hair. Reaching down to the sensitive spot between his- their shoulders.  “Okay” is all he says, but his smile is sweet even in the light. “That’s okay with me Hobi.” 

- And it is- it always will be, as long as Hoseok has people like this, the ones that have always made him feel like it was safe to be himself- no matter what form he wants to take. Hoseok will be okay. At night, their arms tighten around Jungkook. “I want you to be okay too Kookie” Jungkook sleeps on, oblivious to the turmoil-taking root in Hoseok’s heart.

- Yes, he loves Jungkook, but can Hoseok really love in the way that Jungkook needs? Are they just keeping each other from happiness or is this the only thing they’ll ever need? 

- In his arms Jungkook dreams fitfully. But down to his core, he knows If there was ever a time when he felt like he needed more from Hoseok- if what they have ever felt like not enough, He’d never do anything about it. Never ask for more. Never. They don’t need anyone else- no lover, friends, or mates. Just each other. Their bond will always be enough. 

-  The days spent waiting pass like sluggish honey for Yoongi, sweet when they meet the tip of his tongue but only a hint of the sweet eternity he promises you. They blend together for you- more than the dizzying cacophony of dreams. Sometimes you forget where you belong, and forget that you have to wake up.

-  When you can- you strong arm and squirm your way into wherever he is, curled up around you and set a hand on his scaly cheek, there is a limit to how far you can go from your body, and that seems to be a fair mile from where you sleep. So if you wake when Yoongi flies, it’s enough to be able to sit in the garden and enjoy the flowers and sunlight. Every time you manage to knock yourself out of a dream, you can go a little bit farther. Like your soul is getting used to how it feels outside your body.

-  And when you do actually stay in the dream world- lucid dreaming becomes an avid habit of yours. Taehyung teaches you how to do it. As dangerous as it is lovely to feel real things when you can, you do often get lost in the way you can change the world you’re in. Are you a god? Or just a dreamer? Taehyung’s hand in yours keeps you tethered. You wonder how he managed to keep his sanity living alone like this for so many years. In the dream world- days are years and years are eons.

-  And what makes it worse is that you know it won't feel like so long when you wake- the sluggish feeling that not so much time could have passed even though you know it has. The spell around you keeps you dreaming like it's been days, while your body lives those hours as a second. Your mind and your body age out of sync.

- Yoongi’s timed it before, every hour he sees your chest rise and fall. One breath for every hour

- You feel like you’ve spent years in the dreams at this point, recreating each of your wildest fantasies. Though some feel too real not to be born of your memories. You dream of The walls of your cavern home that you haven’t gone back to in years, feeling the cold stone with a warm body behind you- Yoongi. Or hours spent just outside the front doorsteps of your manor house, waiting for Yoongi to come home with Hoseok while Jungkook plays in the field.

- Flowers that flash like beacons out of the corner of your eye, and then it’s not only Jungkook but Hoseok playing in the field too. Both of them running through the field and casting the dandelions onto the floor that spark like embers. Yoongi chases after them- both of them barely come up to his waist. You watch it from the corner of your eye knowing it will feel less real if you turn your head and look at the memory directly.

- The smell of cooking peaches stings in your nose- sour- and you know if you went into your house you could probably find taehyung there- cooking a peach pie. Though it’s a toss up if it would actually be him- and now just a memory you don’t have confused in this. 

-   You Watch as Hoseok flashes red from human to dragon tackling Yoongi to the ground with a warped grumbly giggle. Jungkook is quick to flop on top with one hand fisted and knocking against Yoongi’s chest, the other buried in Hoseok’s feathery coat. 

-It makes you smile- the dreams- these memories are the only thing that makes you remember you’re dreaming. Because you know Hobi and Jungkook haven’t been that small for years. Your children are fully grown now.

- You wish you could go back to those times when it was simpler. And the dreams let you do just that, again and again until the memory barely feels real.

- What surprises you the most are the nightmares. They always bleed into your dreams the moment you least expect them and when you truly let your guard down. Ink darkening the edges of this story before you realize the badness is bleeding through. Anger and a wordless hunger tainting the happy moments.

- You dont think the anger comes from you- maybe its anger from the dream- the world that has found you an unwelcome guest. People aren’t supposed to sleep for so long. And the dream world tries everything it can to get you to wake up. 

- Maybe it’s worried you’ll learn how to dream when you’re awake. 

- The worst part about the nightmares aren’t the fear- It’s not the falling through the sky, or faceless men chasing you, monsters, or tragedies that you can’t escape. It’s that the nightmares don’t feel the same as when you were awake, no blurry edges- everything too real. These nightmares are born of your memories only to be twisted by the dream world into something more sinister.

- Sometimes you feel like they’re showing you the future- or if not the future- then something that could have happened to your family.

-  The nightmares show you realities where Jungkook still wants to be a warrior. Ones where Yoongi never found him and you all meet another way, Not as a family but as enemies on the battlefield. 

- In the nightmare, the war has come earlier with Yoongi at the head of the council. And he’s become everything he always feared he could have been, those whispered confessions he’d uttered to you and you’d uttered back under only the cover of darkness. “I think I might be a bad person” “it doesn’t matter if you’re good- just that you’re good to us Yoongi, and for the record- I think it shows the content of your character that you care so much- even when caring hurts” 

- In the nightmare world He’s everything he would have been without you. Easily tempted to war without knowing softness and love, without having something to protect. And he’d never chosen a mate either- Yoongi is as lonely and touch-starved as he is bloodthirsty and violent.

- In this nightmare Hoseok is just another dragon soldier who hates humans because of what they’ve done to him. Hoseok and Jungkook first meet each other on opposite sides of the war. Not as brothers but as enemies. Does Hoseok fall by Jungkook’s blade? Or will Jungkook burn without ever knowing about the magic that lurked in his veins? Or worse- would he have found out and used his powers to aid the only people he’d ever known.

- Would he and Seokjin fought in that reality? Two forces so destructive that they could only take out each other- flattening the mountains and ending thousands of lives when they clash. You hear them- from where you watch them fight. the dream war is just as bloody and terrible as the real one- and it's worse to see your family fight. 

- Seokjin’s face is tense, eyes slowly dripping blood as he holds the magic in his hands. and jungkook- jungkook looks almost evil.  Jungkook’s words don’t sound like your son- his voice deeper- like the dream just can’t get it right “this issue here uncle- is that you have something to fight for and I do not.”

- You beg the dream world to let you wake up but Seokjin’s spell holds you there with ironclad hands. 

- You wonder what’s become of taehyung in this reality. Would he have woken from his coffin without Seokjin’s magic to keep him there- or would he have stayed asleep? Never to be woken again? would he sleep the same way Seokjin does, chest broken open on the battlefield, his heart removed clutched in Jungkook’s hand?

-   In the dream where Jungkook doesn't know he’s magical, you’re a medic for the human army walking along with the isles of the wounded. Treading over piles of feathers and blood to check the faintly moving chest of a young man, so beautiful despite the fact he’s nearly dead. You don’t recognize Jungkook when you look at him- barely 19 and dying without the magic to protect him and keep him alive

-   Maybe it’s some consolation that this other version of you gets to hold Jungkook as he dies. Gets to soothe him and say, “it’s alright, it won’t hurt in a second, you just have to stop breathing and you’ll be at peace.” As he sputters and tries to breathe through his torn lungs. You know what those claw marks mean on his chest- that they’re too deep to ever heal. Jungkook only has minutes left with his shredded lungs.

-  You’re so focused on comforting the fallen soldier that you don’t notice the beast that lurks in the shadows. Yoongi might be large but he’s also near-silent and invisible in the darkness. Yoongi only feels hate and not love as he watches you, fire growing in his belly.  You might be a medic but you’re still a human and every man you save is just another that will one day fall. The kiss of fire on the back of your neck burns hot and painful one moment, and then the touch of his lips soft the next as you breathe through the nightmare.

-  Those are the worst sort of dream because part of you is convinced that’s what could have happened if Yoongi had never killed Jungkook’s blood family. As gruesome as it sounds, you think you’d rather have it this way than be doomed to that fate. At least now- you’re all loved, though you’ll have to see if one day, the one you love becomes the reason the other dies. For both you and Hoseok.

-  Maybe soulmates hurt each other just as often as much as love each other.

-   When you wake- you tell Yoongi about the dream and kiss his forehead where his head is pillowed against your thigh. Head tilted so his horns don’t knock into your hip. “Do they feel real? The dreams in which I kill you?” he asks you. He doesn’t want you to ever think of that, the improbability of him deciding to hurt you. that you could ever believe that his hands that love you could ever hurt you makes his stomach drop. Yoongi would let himself die, would turn his hands on himself- before he let himself hurt you.

-   “Sometimes” you admit, as you kiss him more, deeper now that you can verify it's real. Kisses in the dream world always feel 2d, not like now- when you can taste him and feel his warmth. Kissing him is like hello and a new daydream all at once. Sweet and sweeter because you know it's real. Syrup and honey in equal measure. “But don’t worry, I never believe those dreams for long,”

-  But Yoongi does worry, And the day comes that you do forget.

-  It’s one of the rare times that Hoseok and Jungkook haven’t come home in time to see you wake. They’re kept south by a snowstorm wiping through the northern lands. But Yoongi’s glad they weren’t they're- glad they didn’t see it.

-   It’s the first time that you wake and don’t remember them, your memories and your mind lost to the dream world. Screaming for Taehyung of all people as you fight Yoongi’s hands (only trying to hold you up seeing as you look about ready to pass out). You backpedal on shaky legs and hit the glass edge of your coffin with a violent thud. It shatters against the floor in a great cacophony of glass shards.

- Yoongi barely scoops you up in time so that you don’t fall against them and hurt yourself. Your hands weekly pushing at him to stay away, a monster that you never learned to love, a face you don’t know.

- Taehyung is crying in his coffin as he says your name. Hand weakly reaching out to Tae, Your panic stinks in Yoongi’s nose. Your body is afraid of him- that’s what breaks his heart the most- that he can smell the fear on you and he knows he’s caused it. it's all he can do to repeat in his mind that you’re just Sleepwalking, that’s what it is. You don’t actually hate him- you couldn’t.

-   But you won’t wake up- no matter how much Yoongi calls your name. How is it so much harder for you than it is for Taehyung? Seokjin’s never said he did anything like this, Taehyung has never lost himself in the dream world like this.  

-  The second Tae feels like he has control of his legs he pushes Yoongi off of you. Cupping your cheeks and pulling you up and onto his glass coffin. “It’s not a dream- you’re not dreaming” but your eyes dart around the room like you’re not really seeing it. Yoongi sits there surrounded by glass watching as you don’t fight Tae.

- “Y/n you’re awake- this is your real life- this isn’t another nightmare” But his words fall on your unhearing ears. You stare at Taehyung like they’re something growing out of his head- and who knows- maybe there is. A piece of the dream world that you’ve carried into your waking hours. A hallucination. Yoongi doesn’t want to think about what you might have seen when you looked at his face.

- “Why are you calling me that? That’s not my name.” that’s the final straw, Seokjin knocked out of his reverie and Yoongi pining himself to the wall while Seokjin puts you back to sleep, a thumb pressed to your forehead until you slump in Tae’s arms. Tae holds you so delicately. And it takes seeing him cry for Yoongi to recognize the wetness on his own cheeks as tears too. 

- He almost wants to reach out and keep you here. Because he knows- Yoongi knows- once you go into that coffin again they’re no getting you out. One more year to tick by without you. Two at once- They’ve never done this before and they can only hope it works- that you come back whole the next time.

-  By the time Jungkook and Hoseok get home at noon, Hoseok’s wings are coated with a faint layer of frost. Yoongi is still sitting out on the edge of the property, watching the faintly raging snowstorm outside the barrier. Eyes wet and dark. His arms wrapped around himself like he’s trying to comfort himself. To alleviate the ache of being untouched. Maybe it’s dramatic- but Yoongi aches like he’s been shot down by an arrow. He never knew he could get so touch starved.  

-  His children watch him, mixed terror and discomfort at finding their father without their mother on the one day they should be seen together. “She’s not awake- you can get inside and see her though.” yoongi feels like he’ll never be warm again. 

-  The eternal spring of Seokjin’s home is more than enough to have the cold dissipate, but the cold at seeing you in Tae’s coffin stays. Yours shattered to the side (Seokjin will repair it for Tae later), is something that chills Jungkook to the bone. Jungkook doesn’t realize he’s using the magic in a panic until Hoseok touches his cheek and calls his name. 

-All Jungkook knows is that your coffin magically replaced behind Tae’s and that the roses on the trellis outside are sneaking in through the open window. The warmth of Hoseok’s palm is welcomed comfort that Jungkook leans into. Trying not to cry.

- Jungkook and Hoseok get the story from Tae and Seokjin and then go back outside to sit next to their father. “Am I doing the right thing? Or should we just let her wake up and-“ Jungkook is the first to shake his head. “Mom doesn’t want to die dad- she’d say the same if she could” Hoseok’s hands tighten on their pants. Their whole body shaking at the thought of letting you- just letting you die. 

- “Next year- it will be different.” No one says that they don’t know that for sure. That they’re just trying whatever they think will work without knowing if you’re right. If you even can come back. Jungkook and Hoseok stay for longer this time, to comfort their father. But then-one day weeks later, he stands up.

- They’re out of books. At least for now- until Hoseok and Jungkook can rocket across the world, every swipe of Hoseok’s wings faster- harder, pushing themselves to carry more. They feel like time is ticking down. 

- The next year you wake without a fuss. And no one mentions the last year to you; you don’t remember what happened at all. You have no idea that it’s been two since they last saw you. And this time- Yoongi treasures it even more.  For 18 hours- he doesn’t stop touching you. A hand on your lower back or your cheek. 18 hours of love after two years of nothing.

- Hoseok watches you carefully, looking for a hint that you know what happened, that you remember it in any way. But the day remains lost to the tangle of your memories and dreams. More than once- Hoseok catches you watching them, eyes furrowed like you’re having some sort of inner debate or trying to decide if what you’re seeing is real.

- Your brief wakefulness might be their favorite part- but it’s also the scariest.

-  It gets a little better, the dreams can’t create new things for you- only things you’ve experienced before really. So when you see them in newer clothes, when they actively change things about your surroundings before you wake up it makes a difference.

- Seokjin changes the spell around his castle to fall just for you, and you spend ages in the garden, pressing sweet tomatoes to Yoongi’s mouth and cooking pumpkin seeds with Hoseok and Jungkook. Hoseok excitingly shows you their new trick- a little jet of fire that they can manage on their hands in their human form. It’s far from Yoongi’s near magic control of fire but it still makes you smile and shout and give Hoseok little scratches on the head a proud feeling in your chest. 

- No matter that you need to reach up to do it now- they’ve been taller than you for so long it’s hard to remember they were ever so tiny. Hoseok’s change is also another thing that makes it easier. You dislike it- and you’d never treat your child any differently than how they wanted to treat them- but when you dream Hoseok- they’re still listless in their skin, a boy along with Jungkook. 

- It’s reassuring when you wake and find them still the same as ever but so much more comfortable in their skin than they’d ever been before. As a child, Hoseok had been quiet and easily anxious (only soothed by Jungkook) now they’re louder and happier, a little bit of something shimmery gold on their eyelids, dancing around the kitchen and sending off little puffs of yellow fire (only to be contained by Jungkook’s magic). 

- “Really Hobi- the kitchen is made of wood- you’ve got to be careful’). Their face stretching in a familiar heart-shaped smile that you all love. Hoseok is so so happy. 

- You’ve never seen them this happy, and that makes the discontent rise in your chest because- how had you never realized they weren’t? How did you never see that Comfort was a fickle thing in Hoseok’s chest in a way it wasn’t for anyone but Jimin. 

- You try to remember back to their meeting sometimes. Hoseok had looked at Jimin like he hung the stars and asked more questions than anyone else. You’d assumed it was just childlike curiosity- but maybe that had a deeper meaning than you’d initially thought. 

- Before you sleep you unpack some of your old clothes and hand them down to Hoseok. Fine clothes and silks that Yoongi had made for you when you lived closer to the dragon city. Seeing as you have no use for them anymore, they’re a similar size- and Hoseok is only a little bit larger than you, maybe a tad bit broader but you liked your clothes flowy and loose anyway. 

- You anchor yourself with their smile when you go into the dreams again. Excited to wake and help Hoseok explore their feminine side more.  

- The nightmares are ever vibrant and feverish, with reality at a resolution just out of clarity. You dream of each of your family hurt beyond repair and you dream that they’re happy without you. Those hunters grabbing a tiny Hoseok by his feathers and tear them- his beautiful- delicate wings, and pluck him like a chicken. 

- They do the same to Yoongi- albeit slower, removing every inch of his wing membrane until his bones clatter together like a wind chime. You have to watch, unable to move regardless of his roars that shake the earth. Maybe it says a lot about your love if the thing you’re scared of most is not being there to comfort Yoongi. 

- Other nightmares of black fire that climbs the walls and sinks close to Jungkook in his baby basket. A calamity that you cannot end, like the trudge of time- the nightmares feel like they last forever. The wand in his arm burning too- unable to bond with him. His soul burned from the inside out. You scramble over his ashes, grasping at them like it will bring him back. 

- You can’t help it, sobbing like your heart was ripped out. Hoseok falling too, crying in anguish as part of his soul dies. his wings fall limp- unable to fly without Jungkook. The saddest death is that of someone who can no longer do what they love, and the second saddest is a dragon without its wings.

- It’s so sad, It’s just like that time you woke up and saw only strangers in your bedroom, the nightmares always feel so real.  

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Part 8: The Woman and The War *coming soon*

[elliotoille]

Do you have any advice for understanding hands better? I’ve been practicing them for years but feel like compared to other aspects of anatomy it’s the one thing I haven’t seen much improvement in. I draw both from life and images and draw nearly everyday but nothing I’m doing seems to help

I personally get by mostly from remembering poses that I’ve already practiced a ton, like I figure out how to draw it once and am able to file that away in my brain and use it again later, and tweak bits of the pose or the level of simplification to suit what I’m drawing. 

I’ve paid special attention to drawing hands for like.... most of my life so I have a LOT of poses I’m easy comfy with now, but when I need to figure out something complicated or new, I can usually work it out by breaking a hand down into shapes, remembering a few key points/”rules” from what I’ve learned about hands in order to help me break it down in a way that makes sense. And if that’s not enough either, then I take photo refs. 

^^^ here is a pose I use a ton. I have a quick way of drawing it from various angles. the first time I had to draw a pose like this, I had to think and figure it out, but in drawing it a bunch of times and having to use various angles like this, I’ve eventually come up with a quick, reliable way to draw it from a few of the most common angles that fits the style I like to draw in. I’m blessed with a good memory for observations, so when I see a beautifully posed hand, I can usually really quickly analyze what I like about that pose and why, and that helps me absorb it so I can recreate my saved impression later. But I know not everyone thinks the same way. it might benefit you to quickly scribble down a study in a sketchbook when you see a pose you find beautiful and want to learn from for later.

^^^ here are some poses I had to stop and spend time figuring out, calling up the “rules” for how hands are built to kind of logic-out how they should look from angles I’m less familiar with. results can be mixed, but... if I end up with something expressive that fits the style of the rest of the drawing, I’m usually really forgiving of fudged anatomy or slightly wonky proportions. as long as the thumb is on the right side and there aren’t too many fingers, that’s a great start lol.

^^^ and here are ones I had to take reference-selfies for. I try to use this as a last resort because 1) it’s a lot of trouble 2) interrupts my drawing and 3) if I’m not careful I stick too close to the reference, and the drawing ends up with the hand looking referenced and the rest of the pose not, which is jarring to me. not to mention I have tiny manlet wrists that without fail, look horrific and emaciated in photos, and the lens distortion makes my fingers look scary too... ugh, photo reference has definite flaws. I actually don’t like the look of drawings for which I can Really Tell the artist drew from photo reference, because most often that means they’re taking the ref too much at face value and incorporating ugly lens distortions into their drawing. so I have to think extra hard not only about interpreting the ref, but also might have to make multiple passes just to get the hand to look normal, AND match the style of the rest of the drawing.

Anyway, here are some of the ““rules””” I mentioned earlier that I fall back on to help me figure out more complicated poses:

1. probably seen this before, but basic proportions. the palm is usually half the total height of the hand. obviously you can mess with this purposefully. 

2. I think of joints as like, ball joints or hinges. I find that easier than trying to remember bones & muscles. here’s a drawing of the wrist as a hinge. note that when you’re thinking of it this way, it’s a shortcut, but a shortcut is only good if you use it with precision. notice the pin for the wrist hinge is not just halfway, it’s closer to the top of the hand. being precise about that is what allows this shortcut to work. the heel of the palm juts out, while the top of the hand transitions into the wrist quite smoothly.

3. simplified planes. planes are important yo. in super simple terms: top is flat, bottom is round. this works on the fingers too, actually. the tops are bony and tendony, and the bottom is where the fat is, so it’s rounder and soft

thinking of the hand as abstract shapes REALLY helps simplify the task of drawing hands, and is just as helpful even if you are drawing from reference. I can say “the palm is a box” and obviously the palm is not really as simple as a box, but if I think of the palm, wrist, and each finger joint as various shapes of box, then all of a sudden, psychologically, my task is SO much easier. I’m not drawing a Hand, which is hard, I’m drawing boxes, which is easy.

4. that prominent knob some people have on their wrist? that’s on the pinky side.

1. the knuckles aren’t really a flat row on top. the hand is like a cup right, so your palm can hold water and things. so we can think of the hand as a box to make figuring out the pose easier, but when it comes down to it, you’ll want to make it more of a curve. this curve is why you can see multiple fingers in a side view

2. when curled up, the fingers nestle together. the fingernails also turn slightly toward the center. even if I’m simplifying the hands significantly, I usually still draw the fingernails because they are SO useful for communicating the pose of the hand effectively.

3. lots of people suggest to think of the hand as a mitten, grouping the pinky/ring/middle fingers and singling out the index finger. this works great, the index finger is more independent from the other three. on the flip side, those three are really stuck together; if you’re drawing the pinky curled up all the way, then you better not draw the ring finger sticking straight up, cause that would HURT. anyway, singling out the index finger leads to more interesting poses in my experience.

1. this is another illustration of top = flat and bottom = curved. this is a really easy way to organize your line quality. straight lines and sharper angles where there is bone, and soft gentle lines where there is muscle and fat. your drawing as a whole will read very clearly if you find some guidelines like that to stick to, as it means all your lines are intentional and thoughtful.

2. this one’s about overlaps. when forms overlap, it makes a crease, and when you draw that crease you’re communicating which form is in front of the other. in the second drawing I reversed all the creases, and it looks.... messed up. think about how pieces connect.

so when you’re trying to make up a pose without using specific reference, I think it’s good to think about the.... flow of energy through the pose. honestly, I know it’s really abstract, but if I have an ability to make interesting poses that communicate weight and movement, the things that make people say your character feels ALIVE, like they really EXIST in a space... it’s because I started to think of poses this way. imagining streams of energy bouncing through the body, flowing down the limbs and out through the fingers. this is why hands are so important to me, cause they’re where the kinetic energy of the pose ultimately ends up. I talk about it when drawing the torso and arms and legs, but an interesting drawing has a bounce back and forth between opposites: for every curve, an opposing straight line, alternating back and forth down the entire body. if you’re sensitive to the energy of the pose, then even very simple poses will be interesting to look at.

anyway, with regards to hands, I imagine the energy getting sort of cinched in as it passes through the wrist, and then emanating out through the fingertips. I hope my drawing at least SORT of communicates this imagery. it makes sense because that’s BASically how the bones in the hand are anyway. and then the right side of the image above is just demonstrating some highly simplified gestures. see how the fingers fan out and curl in, rarely parallel to eachother. when you’re figuring out the pose, using a line to stand in for the row of knuckles is super valuable.

aaand finally, here’s two hands where I intentionally neglected correct anatomy and proportion because I felt it worked better for the style of the whole drawing. Left side: since this is a really simple and cartoonish style, I was thinking back to kids’ and shoujo manga I have read where the style was very solid and distinctive, but definitely NOT overly concerned with correct anatomy, or even really drawing hands, uh, “well” at all. to me, that sort of approach has a Look that I like to invoke sometimes, since for years I felt like I learned a bunch of anatomy and proportion and drawing from life actually in detriment to the liveliness and appealness of my drawings. this hand is mushy and makes very little sense, but it turned out as intended. Right side: sometimes I like to pretend fingers only have 2 bones in them, cause i am a Queen and i do what i want

and there you go. I hope that helped, like, at all? Look at real hands and photos of hands and hands in motion, but also look at drawn hands as well. find what you like, and work towards expressing that yourself. and remember the hand is part of the whole drawing. not only in the art style like I’d been talking about, but because the angle and placement of the hand is reflected in the angles of the arm, which in turn reflects on the angles of the shoulder, which affects the whole torso, etc etc etc. and the techniques you can use to understand and draw the rest of the body, works on hands too. as you improve everything else, your hands will improve as well.

DISCLAIMER: I whipped up these diagrams quickly, they’re not meant to be good drawings or accurate refs, just diagrams to illustrate my thought process lol

[kamariya]

dumping some unfinished writing because why not:)

"... Because I hate you."

He stills. His lips are parted, but he has lost the ability to speak. His cheeks are pink. I have hurt him, I know it, I don't regret it, even if I feel guilty.

Why do I treat him like this? Is it just a general dislike of his personality, or is it a defence mechanism against rejection? I break you first so that you never can.

I close the distance. Our shoes touch now. My head is bowed. I take his fists in my hands. They unfold, neither eager nor closed to my touch. He is not welcoming me, but he is letting me in.

I step even closer. This time he wraps his arms around me. He kisses my hair, a small kiss of immense grief. I can't take it, can't see him broken up like this knowing that I'm the one who did it. I don't feel guilt or sympathy anymore. I feel heartbroken.

There is an ache in my anatomy, a hunger so vast it terrifies me. I wrap my arms around his chest. I pull him into myself, closer, closer, like I want to be a part of him, like I want to become him.

My arms hurt within seconds. I loosen my grip. I let my hands slide down his arms until they reach his palms. I take one in both hands, turning it over, observing. He's observing, too. He wants to know what I see.

I trace the lines on his palm, up and down, back and forth. The lifeline is more sunken and prominent than the rest. I slide my thumb down it, and then past his palm, to his wrist, until I meet the vein.

I remember what I learnt in ninth grade biology. I feel his pulse. I have no idea whether it's normal or not. But I know that he's alive.

I kiss his pulse. His breathing fastens, I can sense in the quiet of the room, but only for a moment. It relaxes soon. I kiss his pulse again. His body is responding. His free hand is in my hair again.

I let his hand go. I look up at him. 

He kisses me again, on my hair, on my temple, under my ears, on my neck, on my lips and on my forehead, until his head comes to rest on my chest. He's tranquilizing himself. His hands now slide down to my waist. He's lowering himself to his knees.

His arms are looped around my waist. His face is on my leg.

"Have I ever told you how I feel around you?" he says.

"No."

"I feel like I'm around God." His hands slide down my hips to my foot. His head is bowed against my knee. "I feel holy, and high as hell."

I feel the breath go out of me. I make a mental note to myself to write that down as soon as I can.

"I would do anything, be anything to be worthy of you," he says. "I know you don't think highly of me, and I know you are right. But if you give me a chance, I can fix everything. I will fix everything."

I caress his cheek. His lips find my hand and kiss it. He is so cut open in this moment, so clear, so brilliant. "There was nothing broken in the first place," I find myself saying. My fingers are in his mouth. His flesh feels soft and cold. He lets me go and I help him rise. He wraps his arms around my waist. He kisses me, on the lips. His kisses have no hesitation, no doubt.

His lips trail to my chest, where my heart lies.

Sunlight, I think, his love is sunlight.

I say his name to let him know I like it. His smile flashes in the dimness. He is beautiful. He's so beautiful.

I feel warm. I feel safe. I feel complete. I fell and he caught me when I landed.

One of his hands is in my hair, the other is around my waist, holding me close to his body and upwards, raising me up. I've never been held like this before. This is what I have dreamed of all my life.

We pause to catch our breath. "I love you," I say. "So much."

There is a long pause before he answers. Is he formulating what he should say or is he stunned by my declaration? Maybe both. "I love you, too."

Sunlight.

[calzona-ga]

[Spoiler] talks with The Hollywood Reporter about his return to the ABC medical drama and why the surprising reunion with Chyler Leigh had to be filmed via green screen.

[This story contains spoilers from the April 1 "Breathe" episode of Grey's Anatomy.]

The magical beach on Grey's Anatomy just delivered a double surprise.

Viewers knew that Chyler Leigh would be returning to reprise her role as Meredith's younger half-sister, Lexie Grey, but she wasn't the only former star who came back on the show's magical beach. Eric Dane, in a surprise appearance, returned to reprise his role as Lexie's on-screen love interest, Mark Sloan.

Both Dane and Leigh appeared together on the beach as part of a central storyline as Meredith (Ellen Pompeo) continues to battle COVID-19. Dane and Leigh become the latest former stars to return to Grey's Anatomy this season, joining Patrick Dempsey (Derek) and T.R. Knight (George) as the Shonda Rhimes-produced ABC drama continues to focus on the impact of the pandemic on the medical community.

Dane and Leigh's Mark and Lexie appeared for the first time since the season eight finale. That episode featured Lexie telling Mark that they were meant to be as she died from injuries sustained in a plane crash. Mark, meanwhile, was killed off in the season nine premiere as Dane left the series to pursue TNT's The Last Ship.

Below, Dane talks with The Hollywood Reporter about providing closure to Mark and Lexie's love story, being part of Meredith's big storyline — she's now off the vent and breathing on her own — and why his reunion with Leigh had to be filmed via green screen.

What was the pitch to come back? Had you seen that Patrick Dempsey had come back and wonder if you were going to get a call?

No, I hadn't. I was in Shanghai, China, when Krista Vernoff reached out and said, "I have an idea." She texted me. I said, "Well, I'm in Shanghai, of all places. And I'd love to hear your idea. Give me a couple weeks to clear quarantine and I'll find you." And she says, "How would you feel about coming back? I don't know if you've seen what's going on, but Meredith is in this coma in a fever dream from covid. And she's seeing all her friends on a beach." And I said, "Well, that kind of makes sense. Yeah, sure, let's do it."

Was the pitch for both you and Chyler to return the same episode

Absolutely.

What was it like reuniting with Chyler after all these years?

It feels like I never left. It was very comfortable and very easy, and it was so nice to see a lot of the same faces with the crew. It's a role that always fit for me, like one of those great old t-shirts. And it was just like putting the t-shirt back on and hanging out on a beach for a couple days, and catching up with some old friends.

Did you actually film with Chyler? She's a regular on a show that films in Vancouver, which would have meant she had to quarantine in the middle of Supergirl production to film this.

Chyler was in Vancouver. So we had to work some magic. Chyler could get here but then she couldn't get back to Canada. There was some green screen. There was a lot of me and Ellen. And Ellen an eye line.

Were you bummed that the logistics didn't work out for you and Chyler physically share a scene together again after so long?  

Yeah. I'm honestly bummed you even asked me that because I wanted to sell the myths of us actually being on screen together in person. But don't take it personally. It's OK, you're doing your job. But Ellen and I see each other every now and again, Justin [Chambers] and I see each other every now and again. I spent so much of my life with these guys. When you see them again, it's not a big, "Oh my God, what have you done?" It's like, nobody skips a beat. It's just, everything kind of fit. It fit then; it still fits.

What did you and Ellen talk about between takes?

We talked about kids, my 11-year-old just found Grey's Anatomy and she's asking me a lot of questions which are difficult to answer. We talked a lot about our kids finding this show, and how do we handle that. How do we police what they're able to watch? Are they of age? Is it appropriate? Some of it raises some questions that I'm not quite ready to answer yet. But I don't mind it because both my kids now want to be surgeons. And all their baby dolls they used to play with are now being cut open, and they're stitching up bananas. It's fun.

On-screen, the episode implies that Mark and Lexie wound up together in whatever this special beach is. Shonda Rhimes said back in back in season nine that killing off Mark was the only way for Mark and Lexie to really be together. In Lexie's last dying words, do you think Mark and Lexie were meant to be?

Absolutely. I mean, the line Meredith asks is, "So you guys are together." And I say, "I guess on your beach, we are." But I think Mark would have found Lexie no matter what. Whether it would have been on Meredith's beach or Lexie's beach, or anybody's beach, I think Mark would have found her.

Does this feel like you have closure with this character again? Did it feel like there was any lingering questions that you were really able to put a bow on this time?

I think it all came full circle. The one question I think that everybody was left with was, obviously Mark Sloan saying goodbye to Lexie and she said, "We're meant to be." And then Mark passes on, and we don't know what that meant. And now we know, Mark and Lexie are together in their parallel universe.

As an actor, do you feel like this is the closure that you maybe didn't quite get the first time?

Yeah. I always felt like there was closure. I've always trusted these writers and what they were doing as far as the overall story and the character's departures. They've always handled that really well. I guess the only people that weren't provided with closure was the audience. And I hope that this can do that for them.

Even though you didn't film in the same place, it really does feel that way.

Two-thousand miles of distance between us is not going to the chemistry that happens on screen between us. I know who I'm talking to, she knows who she's talking to. And that translates.

Mark spoke about always looking out for Callie (Sara Ramirez) and Arizona (Jessica Capshaw) and their daughter, Sofia. That felt like something special to be part of, too.

I can identify with that. I lost my father at a pretty early age and I always felt like he was looking out for me — still to this day, to a degree. So those words meant something to me, and I believe in them.

Ultimately, Mark and Lexie help Meredith fight to stay alive in her battle with covid. What does it mean to you to have been able to not only come back, but to do so in such a meaningful way?

It's a pretty poignant moment. I would think anybody speaking to anybody beyond the grave would probably provide the same advice. You get one lap in life, it's very important that you live every day to the fullest. You keep both feet in today, you stay present. And you're there for your loved ones.

Any regrets about not being able to reunite with Patrick Dempsey to bring McSteamy and McDreamy back together?

No. I love Patty. That wasn't the story. There were no regrets. I've never had regrets about anything on the show.

You said in a 2013 interview that you would have stayed on Grey's until the last episode but ultimately left because you couldn't pass up the role in The Last Ship. Looking back, any regrets about asking to leave?

No regrets. Look, Grey's Anatomy is a fantastic show and it provides a fantastic life. I'm an actor, I think it's very unnatural for any actor to play the same character for eight years. It's just counterintuitive to what I think I'm doing for a living and I think what my purpose is with my job. So, as much as I loved being there, and as much as I loved working with the people I was working with, playing Mark Sloan for 17 seasons just seemed like, I don't know, a little antithetical to what I'm supposed to be doing as an artist. And you get to a point where that's all anybody is going to see you as. And even with The Last Ship, I wasn't playing Mark Sloan, but I was playing a guy that certainly looked like Mark Sloan and had some of the same characteristics. And then I took a year off and said I need to mix things up here because I'm not finding any real joy in the work I'm doing. And then Euphoria came along and was very different and something I've never done. And it's going to challenge me and keep me engaged. And nobody is going to expect this out of me, so let's do it.

What's the status of season two?

Season two is going to be fantastic. I don't think principal photography has started yet, but I know we are prepping right now. I think mid-April we start shooting.

Is the plan still to get the show back on the air this year?

I believe so. We do take a long time filming it. And it's a gift to get that much time to shoot an hour of television. We take 30 days to shoot an episode sometimes, which is unheard of. When we were shooting Grey's in the early days, the 10-day episodes that we would get were unheard of. But 10 days and two units, people were like, wow, that's a luxury.

So to return to Grey's and get to spend a few days on the beach and not on set and in scrubs under the gun like the old days must have been a nice final memory of the show.

It was a great couple days on the beach with some old friends.

[fuckit-hero-of-trains]

Sit by the fire until... Chapter 2

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870150/chapters/81650737

Here’s the thing they don’t tell you when you get magically transformed into a bunny rabbit against your will by the corrupted darkness of the Sacred Realm: somethings, unfortunately, tend to stick.  

Now, Legend isn’t saying that he’s hiding a cotton tail under his tunic or that his soul secretly aches to frolic in meadows or spend his time sleeping in holes or whatever else it is that rabbits do when they're not busy being very confused and scared twelve year old Hylians.

No.

But that doesn't mean he was left unscathed by having his entire anatomy re-written in less than an instant.

Because of course he wouldn’t. Goddess forbid he ever catch a break for once in his life.

He was still pretty young when it happened, so Legend can’t remember if his teeth had been quite so bucked before the incident. Regardless if they were or not, they sure as Hylia are prominent now. Then there's also the fact that he never really grew into his ears, the damn things always just a shade longer than they should be for a regular Hylian.

Before he joined this wild cucco chase masquerading as an adventure, Legend would sometimes catch himself looking at Ravio wondering, Is that how I would have looked? Besides the hair and eyes, the merchant was supposed to be his mirror image after all. Zelda and Hilda were, so it stood to reason that he and Ravio should be the same.

In which case, the bucktooth thing was going to be a problem regardless.

The ears, on the other hand, are a completely different story. From the quick glances Legend has managed to steal of Ravio’s side profile, the merchant has relatively short ears himself, which just make the Veteran’s own look comically long when the two stand side by side.

And ugh, and that wasn't even touching on his… less physical changes.

 Namely, his cravings.

Noshing on some leafy greens while home alone doing some chores? A-Okay.

Getting caught by Warriors and Twilight absentmindedly chewing on the hay he was supposed to be feeding the horses? Ehhh, not so much.  

Goddesses, his ego still hasn’t recovered from the amount of jokes the Pretty Boy had made at his expense. And that’s not even mentioning the veritable mountain of carrots he found in his bedroll, no doubt courtesy of that flea bitten farmhand.

Regardless of the less than natural way he got these… attributes, Legend couldn’t say they were all bad. ‘Cuz sure, his ears were a bit longer than average, but he could also hear better than most of his companions, able to catch the sound of crunching leaves above even their loud bickering. Like wise, his eyes were sharper than others in the low light of dawn and dusk, allowing him to see things others would miss.

Frankly, both skills had helped keep him alive during his quests. He was thankful for them in a weird huh, guess that works kinda way, but thankful all the same.

But sometimes Legend wanted to wring the goddesses necks because really? Being turned into a rabbit couldn’t have fixed this particular problem?

This particular problem being his absolutely horrible pollen allergies.

“ A-A-A!”

Each rapid, involuntary inhale feels like a simultaneous punch to the gut and a gasp for breath, the air yanked into his body and then stoppered up. It leaves the veteran in a state of limbo as a paralyzing calm falls over him; lungs full of air, shoulders hiked up, muscles tensed.

For a second, everything feels lodged in place, frozen, like the Champion had used his stasis rune on him.

And–

Legend clamps his mouth shut and tucks his face into his elbow just as tension snaps and–

“- acheew! ”

Nothing but a soft, cut off sneeze slips past his lips, yet, the force of holding it back  still sends Legend bowing over. He stays there, hunched over for a breath as his body recovers, before he straightens back up, sniffing irritably as he tries to ignore the itch prickling at his eyes and the congested pressure throbbing behind his sinuses.

A chortling huff sounds next to him and when Legend glances down he can see Wolfie– or should he say, Twilight– peering up at him, mouth open and tongue lolling in a doggy grin, but icy blue eyes too pointed, too teasing, to be anything but human.

Legend's nose twitches tellingly as it begins to tickle again and the wolf gives another stuttering huff. A laugh. Legend can practically hear Twilight’s twangy, Awww. You sneeze like a bunny.

The bastard.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, dog boy,” Legend grumbles, wiping harshly at his face in an attempt to stave off another sneezing fit. “Don't you have trees to piss on or something?”

That earns him peeled back lips and a growl, but Legend just sends the other a responding sneer as strides past the grumpy wolf and out into the rolling field of tulips that stands in front of them.

Another huff, this one more annoyed than amused, sounds behind the veteran before the wolf streaks past him, loping through the flowers with his nose down and tail high.

Legend rolls his eyes.

Twilight loves to show his teeth, but the farmhand is quite literally all bark and no bite.

And besides, they both have better things to do than needle one another. If Legend is going to be miserable, he may as well take steps to make that misery as short as possible.

Afterall, they aren't out here swanning through a meadow of flowers for pleasure.

The last Dark Portal they had all walked through had, once again, separated them. Legend and Twilight were lucky enough to find one another quickly, though, now that Legend thinks about it, it probably had less to do with luck and more to do with Twilight’s nose.

After regrouping, they had tried to search for the others more that day, but a storm had them holed up in a cave overnight to wait out the deluge. They had gotten up early to start their search again today, but so far they had no such luck in finding any of the others in the forest.

Which just left the inexplicable meadow of tulips surrounding the wood.

Legend had been hoping that the rain would keep some of the pollen at bay, but nooo that would be too merciful, wouldn’t it?

If anything, the rain just made this whole experience more aggravating. Now, along with stinging eyes, a running nose, and a throbbing head, Legend also had the delightful honor of feeling the tulip stalks and leaves and petals sliding wetly across his skin, the annoying slap of his tunic smacking his thighs as it got more sodden by the second, and the disgusting squish of water between his toes with every step he took through this Wind Fish damned field.

And sure, maybe it was worth it to reunite with the other heroes, but really, would it kill the goddesses to make his life just a little bit easier.

A bark pulls Legend from his miserable musings. Twilight's dark tail stands out among the ocean of pastel pinks and yellows and oranges, wagging frantically twenty meters away. It disappears after a second, replaced by a muzzle and expectant eyes.

Twilight barks at him again.

He must have found something.

Finally, Legend thinks as he begins to make his way over toward the other, hopefully a reason to get out of this floral hell hole.

“What is it, boy?” Legend asks, voice going high and mocking as he takes delicate care stepping on as many flowers as possible, “Little Time-y fall down the well again?”

Instead of a growl for his effort, Legend gets a flurry of black flecks falling upward, like pieces of reverse snow, in his peripheral vision.

“You know,” Twilight says as he straightens to his full height, eyes half-lidded. Unamused, “You’re really not as funny as you seem to think you are.”

And before Legend can interrupt that– No, actually, you just have a dog shit sense of humor. Literally– Twilight continues, “I can smell the smithy all over this thing.” He nods down at a small tree stump breaking through the tide of flowers. “The scent is a bit old, probably from sometime before last evening, but still traceable. I should be able to find him from here.”

Legend eyes the stump for a moment, peering into the cracked hole in the top of the wood. Inside, he can see the round, red caps of several toadstools sprouting.

He can also sense magic. Close to that of the fairies– natural and glittering and smelling of moss– but not quite the same.

The Smithy’s doing?

Or a natural occurrence?

Regardless…

“Welp,” Legend says, straightening up, “Let's go find him. Couldn’t have gotten far on those little legs of his.”

“Again,” Twilight huffs, the black fractals already consuming him once more as he transforms, “You’re not as funny as you think...”

His voice distorts and fades into nothing as the magic swallows him whole, leaving Legend once again having a conversation with a very unimpressed looking wolf.

“I like you better when you can’t talk,” Legend tells Twilight as the other sets off, snuffling at the ground.

The other pauses to give Legend a look that would be more at home on a disapproving mother’s face, before continuing his tracking.

He also whaps Legend in the leg with his tail.

Hard.

The prick.

They continue on their trek together like that for a while, Twilight occasionally pausing to shove his nose into the dirt some more as he decides which direction to follow as Legend trails behind, keeping his eyes peeled for a quadripartite tunic and a head of straight, gold hair.

It isn't long before the farmhand turned canine breaks off into a light trot and then a jog, and then a full on sprint.

And stops just as suddenly.

Legend is out of breath by the time he slides to a stop behind the farmhand, but from a cursory glance around, there doesn’t seem to be a short, mouthy smithy anywhere in the vicinity.

“What happened?” Legend asks, still searching, turning circles as he cranes his neck, “Did you lose the trail?”

Twilight gives a light whine, grabbing Legend’s attention.

Then he does two full spins and sits primly, looking up at Legend.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Legend crinkles his nose at the canine. “Use your words.”

Wolfie rolls his eyes in a way that Legend didn’t think was possible for dogs and then stands.

The canine stares at him intently, as though making sure Legend’s eyes are locked with his own. And then he flicks his eyes over the yellow tulip he is sitting next to meaningfully. Then back to Legend. Back and forth back and forth, his eyes go for a full minute before he stops and stares at Legend once more.

Legend feels as his face wrinkles in confusion.

It's just a regular tulip, just like the thousands currently around them. Pretty enough, he supposes. The bulb seems to be a little wilted, like it's been weighed down by rain water perhaps, but other than that, nothing to sneeze at.

Or everything to sneeze at, if you’re Legend.

Legend gives the flower one more skeptical glance before turning to look at Twilight once more, brow raised.

“Pretty,” he assures the other. “Not sure how it helps us find Four.”

Twilight heaves another too human sigh.

And then he reaches up,  takes the sleeve of Legend’s tunic between his teeth, and yanks.

“Hey!” Legend yelps as he’s dragged down into the dirt, “Watch the teeth! The embroidery on this thing took forever to do and even longer to enchant!”

Twilight pays him no mind, pulling him down and forward, closer to his chosen tulip.

Legend tries his best to keep his face away from the damn thing.

“I swear on The Three, if your slobber stains–”

Legend’s words crumple up and die in his throat.

There’s something in the tulip.

At first glance, Legend would identify it as the Smithy's earring. The small feathered one that he takes special care of. The one that Four refuses to tell Legend the origin of, besides his cryptic, “From a friend.”

Legend would say that it was just the earring, but… but it isn’t.

Rather than being completely red with a white tip, Legend can see that this little feather is only mostly red. Right before the tip, a darker red plumage takes over, followed by purple and blue and green.

Also, rather than being attached to the small, golden chain and stud Four uses to fasten the jewelry to his earlobe, it’s attached to a body.

A very, very small body.

By now, Twilight has let go of his sleeve, but Legend both doesn’t notice and doesnt care, all of his attention fixed on the little creature before his eyes.

From what he can tell, the little creature is asleep, curled up in the bulb of the flower, his feather tail tucked up near his nose for warmth. Looking past the plumage, Legend can see that the little guy has a very rat-like face, complete with a small, twitching pink nose, long whiskers and–because the creature is shivering– long, chattering rodent incisors. Oval shaped ears stick out from the creature's head, a mix between mouse-like and Hylian.

And framing those ears is shoulder length, soaking wet blonde hair.

Blonde hair held out of the little guy's face by a green headband.

And…

And he’s wearing the smithy’s tunic?

“... Four?” Legend whispers in amazement.

And just saying the other’s name out loud is like a spell because suddenly Legend can see all signs. The little guy has Four’s bag over his shoulder and the Four Sword at his hip. That same magic that was by the stump– the not-fairy, fairy magic– completely surrounds him, dusting him in the same way he is currently dusted in yellow pollen.

“Is that you, Smithy?” Legend asks a little louder.

But rather than startle awake, the small creature– Four, Legend reminds himself– simply hunkers down more fully into the flower, curling up more fully as his shivers increase.

“He must have transformed in order to speak with the Minish around here.”

Twilight’s voice, even though it is a whisper, gives Legend a start. He hadn’t realized the other had transformed, nor had he seen the farmhand crouch down by his side.

The other isn’t looking at him as he speaks, cool blue eyes instead locked on the fitfully sleeping smithy, face concerned.

“He once told me that the Minish are insatiable gossips. He must have transformed to try and find us.”

The concern on the farhand’s face darkens the longer he stares.

“He must have been caught out in the storm,” Twilight says grimly.

Legend tries to imagine what that would be like. To be the size of a mouse and out in a storm. Tries to imagine what it would feel like for gale force winds to pull at drag at him, crushing him into the dirt one moment and yanking off his feet the next. Tries to imagine dodging back and forth between tulips, avoiding the head sized, stone cold rain drops pelting down from the sky

It's not a pretty pictograph, he’ll admit.

And ugh, Legend really isn't a fan of what it's making him consider.

He spares another glance at Four.

And fuck, the little guy shivers and shivers and shivers until the fower he is sleeping in is shaking with it.

And then, he sneezes, the sound coming out tiny and squeaky and weak.

Son of a bitch.

With a sigh that is as weary and reluctant and annoyed as he can possibly force it to be even though the vetran is feeling none of those things, Legend takes hold of the flower near its stem. As gently as possible, he digs his nails into the soft green there, cutting the flower from the ground while keeping it intact.

He hands it to Twilight, who takes it from him with gentle, if slightly confused hands.

With one hand, Legend flips open his shoulder bag. With the other, he rips his hat from his head with a motion probably a tad more violent than is really called for. He arranges the hat inside the bag, making sure to cover his items with the soft fabric while also shaping a soft bed.

Without looking up from his work, Legend extends a hand out to Twilight.

Makes a grabbing motion when what he wants isn't immediately in his hand.

After a second, Twilight slowly places the stem of the flower back in Legend’s hand and the Veteran gently lowers it in the small nest he had created, making sure the bulb sits in a place both shielded from the sun and extra comfortable thanks to the extra fabric padding beneath it.

In one smooth motion, Legend takes a hold of the strap of his bag, pulls it carefully off of his shoulder, and places it on the other side of Twilight’s neck.

And then, he reaches down and touches the dark stone hanging from the necklace around the farmhand’s throat, letting the darkness flock around and consume him.  

When Legend blinks open his eyes, Twilight is looking down at him smugly.

He is looking down farther than usual.

Also looking smugger than usual.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, shaking out his fur before hopping on all fours to get closer to the bag.

“I didn’t say anything,” Twilight replies, not bothing to wipe the smug look off his stupid face even as he lowers the bag to the ground for easier access.

“Yeah you did,” Legend hisses quietly as he clambers carefully into the satchel, settling down the nest of leather and items and hat.

He pulls the flower closer to his side where it is warm.

Inside, he can feel as Four’s shivers begin to lessen.

"Cute," Twilight laughs from above them.

"Fuck you," Legend whisper spits, though he makes no move to push Four's flower away. If anything, he pulls it closer when he hears the smaller hero start to make small, chittering snores, surprised the smithy could sleep through such a racket.

Twilight, thankfully, doesn't comment, instead pulling the top of the bag loosely closed to give them some shade. Then, Legend feels as he gently lifts the satchel back up, slings it slowly over his shoulder as to not disturb the contents inside, and begins walking, hopefully back in the direction of the forest.

Legend can still hear the farmhand laughing to himself from within the bag, but without the others' eyes on him, he finds he doesn't care.

The pollen still itches at his eyes and nose and Legend can still feel the pound of his sinuses even now.  But something about the shade and warmth and soft rocking of the bag makes it hard for him to mind.

Four gives a harty twitch, kicking a petal directly into Legend’s face.

And even that doesn't dissuade the veteran from his task.

Instead, Legend sighs and pulls Four even closer, relaxing despite the discomfort.

He’s got dirt on both Twilight and now Four, the two heroes with sticks most firmly inserted into their asses. He can get out of whatever chores and lectures they try to pin him with.

Yep, he thinks , distantly. That's why he did this.

For the blackmail.

And no other reason.