#the desert crackles with an electricity that consumes anything that holds life

[mystery-salad]

The world is safe now.

You tell yourself that as Zhaitan clings to a tower of decay, crumbling beneath its claws as the canons aim true. The shots hit, cheers raise as the dragon topples down. Falling from view through the miasma it created below. No one can hear it hit the ground over the relieved shouts of victory ringing across the airships. But everyone feels it in a resounding rumble that shouldn't have carried through the air like that. The celebrating falters, confusion rising but not fast enough to prepare for what follows. The shockwave hits like nothing you've ever felt. Everything goes dark as the screams begin.

The world is safe now, Orr is not.

You wake up in the rubble as survivors try to make sense of what happened. The dragon is dead, but no one accounted for where all the consumed magic had to go. No one planned for this despite generations of preparation. Perhaps there's a reason for the dragons, you hear murmurs through the tents. But you didn't come this far to call it quits, and one land riddled with a decaying radiation can't stop the mission. The contamination in your blood won't stop you.

The world is safe now. Orr is gone.

Mordremoth stares you down from within his mind. You're like a weed that won't die, small and foreign but resilient and ready to take everything. The odds are against you with the team sent away, you can't face the gaze of the dead like last time. They're safe at a distance, you have to hope they got far enough as you defy the odds and strike another dragon down.

The world is safe, but there's a catch.

Trahearne shudders as your mind returns to your body, as you look around in wonder that there isn't a shockwave like last time. He's so calm as he explains the truth of it, defying how terrified he is of dying, of asking a friend to do this and stand at ground zero once again. But you stand just as calm, picking up the blade and telling him to close his eyes. You hope he'll rest well, wherever his life takes him next. As the blade cuts through, you know it's real as the shockwave begins just like last time. You brace for impact as much as you can.

The world is safe now. The desert is gone.

It's almost tempting to let Balthazar handle the rest, let the god walk a path of destruction to each dragon, sparing yourself further damage. But his path leaves so much unnecessary devastation...so here you are alone with another dragon. Well, not completely alone now. You have Aurene, though you're still not sure if that's truly a blessing any more. The two of you corner Kralkatorrik, the perfect trap laid deep underground in old sunspear ruins.

The world is safe now, until the dragon takes a last stand.

Waking up in wreckage is becoming normal to you. When did that happen, when did the panic vanish? No time to think on it as new plans have to be laid out. You chase him down, you and your dragon, to kill her grandfather and save the world again. Setbacks are numerous. It's harder to work alone on this one, so many soldiers are ready to see it to the end with you. You tell them they don't know what they're asking for and send them away again. Aurene, still a child, fights the dragon's minions nearly overwhelmed as you get to his heart and strike. You've never seen the explosion from inside before. It's so bright.

The world is safe now. The island is gone.

Is it worth it all? It has to be, you tell yourself, as people celebrate your victories in a shrinking world. Refugees who have fled the fallout zones don't seem to agree, but at least they're alive right? And you know you're almost done. Jormag and Primordus, opposites and twins, rise together and somehow feel like childsplay after the last one. Perhaps it's because aurene is an equal to them now. You don't dare to think of the devastation that would be left if she were to die now. Thankfully you don't have to as the siblings tear each other apart.

The world is safe now. The mountains are gone.

No one has seen the final dragon in ages, hidden away deep underwater until you stumble into the truth while chasing a lesser threat. Soo Won was so gentle once, but the void ravages all. It feasts on the magic you released so willingly into the world, your devastations have paved the way for this chaos.

The world is safe now, for the void to reform.

You've survived so much despite the odds, held together by the very magic degrading your bones and poisoning your blood. The void pulls at those strings as it taunts you through the voice of the dragon who started it all. It's the hardest fight you've ever faced. As Aurene pumps you full of power to survive, you wonder if your death would bring destruction too in this moment. But it's left a mystery as Soo Won falls and the void fades. There's a moment of peacefulness you've never felt before, the grandmother hanging on long enough to comfort her granddaughter. But she can't prevent the state of her death. The jade sea shatters beneath your feet as she dies.

The world is safe now. But how much of it is left?

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #gw2 fan submission #quaille #hiiiiii this is specifically about quaille's au #where each dragon's death leaves a monumental magic explosion and essentially #a radiation zone that reflects their element #orr kills and revives and degrades everything in it like a recording played too many times over #maguuma strangles itself with too much growth choking out its own light #the desert crackles with an electricity that consumes anything that holds life #the mountains rage against themselves with deadly storms that tear apart anyone who gets caught in the middle #the jade sea has shattered and flooded cantha #quaille is a mess of these aftershocks from within #was it worth the mission?

[wwilloww]

assless chaos | jjk

Pairing: Cowboy!Jungkook x OC!Lainey

Genre: Wild West. Crack. Fluff.

Rating: 18+

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: Assless chaps. Swearing. Bad dialogue. Like really bad dialogue. Ass worship. Infidelity. Making out against a portrait of Colonel Mustard.

A/N: This is for @hobiance. Meant to be read with a nice little western twang to it. Like you’re chewing a piece of straw and tellin’ a story round a fire. I let my dramatic self out on this one, so please judge this fic based on the description of Jungkook’s ass, not the quality of writing, thank you very much.

Based on this ask:

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©️wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or copy without express permission of the author. 

ASSLESS CHAOS

“Ma’am?” The graveled voice of the cook crackles through the still air of the parlor as she sticks her head through the door. “You have a visitor.”

Lainey sighs, tipping the heavy book back just enough to peer over at the woman standing in the doorframe.

“Who is it?” she says, boredom lacing her tone, going back to her reading.

“A very handsome young man.” The older woman winks at her. “He says he has something to show you.”

Lainey’s brow furrows in confusion. Her cook speaks up over the silence, placating her uncertainty.

“He seems like a nice young man, ma’am. I think I recognize him as one of your husband’s men.”

“Alright, Bonnie, let him in.”

The double doors to Lainey’s parlor swing open — and then slam shut again with a loud bang. However, despite the loud noise, she doesn’t bother to look up from the book propped up in her hands.

“If you’re here to see my husband, he should be back by supper,” she calls from behind the pages. No one answers. The heavy but familiar sound of honest to goodness cowboy boots clicking against the hardwood floor echos through the office and it’s not until she hears them come to a halt in front of her desk that she looks up.

“Jungkook,” Lainey gasps, standing from her chair.

“Ma’am.” Jungkook tips his hat towards her before taking it off in a sign of respect. He tosses it casually onto a chair in the corner of the large room.

“I-I thought I told you—”

“To stay away?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow and leans over the desk towards her, hands flat on the mahogany.

“You can’t be here,” she hisses. “Not now, not in my home, not—”

Her words are cut short by Jungkook’s hand reaching up to pinch her chin. Her eyes shoot open in shock. Such a simple gesture — and yet, she can’t help but feel her body react to the electricity that zings through her body as skin meets skin. It’s been so long since her husband, Taehyung — or really anyone for that matter had touched her like this — trapping such gentleness, such love in the smallest of movements.

“It wasn’t fair for you to ask me to stay away,” he pouts. “How could I? Especially when you look like this.”

He straightens up again, releasing her from his grasp. Lainey watches, mouth gaping as he rounds the desk to come stand before her.

“How could you,” she pokes him in the chest, “when you know exactly who my husband is? As the mayor, and soon to be governor, he runs this town. He’ll have his gun cocked and pointed at your head as soon as he sees you here.”

“You really think I’m worried about that?” Jungkook drawls. “You don’t think I didn’t know exactly what I was riskin’ when I came here?” He stands hardly a foot away and Lainey is forced to look up at the handsome man. His hair is parted sleekly to the side, the deep, rich color gleaming in the golden evening light that shines through the window. As much as she knows she should tell off the man standing before her, something in her chest tugs, begs, Please. Let him stay. He stands so close that she can smell his natural mix of sun and desert emanating off of him. He smells like something comfortable, like something she wants to fall into, like — dare she say it? — like sex.

Just as he’s leaning in, his lips parted oh-so devilishly, Lainey puts her hand to his chest, stopping him.

“You said you had something to show me,” she says hurriedly, her voice quacking ever so slightly.

Gaze still locked on her lips, he smirks. “Of course, I nearly forgot.”

“What is it?”

“Remember the governor’s ball, nary a month ago?”

How could she forget? The fateful night Jungkook finally pulled her behind the curtain of the stage and asked if her lingering gaze meant that she felt the same way he did. They exchanged confessions of adoration as Lainey’s husband stood just twenty feet away, giving his speech for his governor’s candidacy. The two of them confessed their love to one another behind the rich velvet curtains, only to swear any action on behalf of their throbbing hearts. Even after Lainey had slipped back to her husband’s side, her gaze hadn’t left the figure of the young cowboy, eyes roving over his strong frame and supple ass. Drinking him in was like tasting the sweetest of poisons.

“I remember,” she says softly. “How could I forget?”

“Then you’ll appreciate these.”

Jungkook rips of his chaps, the snaps popping off and scattering across the floor. As she takes in what lays beneath, Lainey slaps a hand to her mouth, a gasp ringing through the air.  

Below lay a second pair of chaps.

Assless chaps.

“What in gods good tarnation are those,” Lainey gasps.

“Chaos. Assless chaos.” Jungkook takes a step closer until the pair stands chest to chest. “I know how much you like my ass —” Warmth creeps up her cheeks and she attempts to duck her head in embarrassment of his acknowledgment. But he’s quick to put a finger below her chin, nudging her head up so that she’s looking at him again. “—The way you can’t keep your eyes off of my blessed cheeks, even when your husband is standing right beside you with his arm around your waist.”

“I—” Her words stutter to a halt. All Lainey can think is that behind the beautiful man in front of her are two shining, round, perfect peaches, juicy and just begging to be squeezed. She nearly swoons at the thought of all of that cake, exposed to the room.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jungkook murmurs. “I know what you’re thinking.” He takes her hands, which have been clutched to her chest, one in each of his large palms. Ever-so slowly, he brings them around his back and places her palms on his exposed ass.

She can’t help but give the slightest of squeezes.

Firm. Juicy. Perfectly round.

“It’s like they were sculpted by the gods,” Lainey murmurs, breath stolen by the utopian orbs beneath her hands. Never in all of her prairie-roving, stallion-taming days has she ever come into contact with such a faultless ass. Even without sight, she knows there’s no ass in this whole country that could rival the one she grasps in hands this very moment.

“My heart though,” Jungkook whispers. “My heart has been sculpted by you.”

Brought back to the moment, Lainey realizes who she is, where she is, who she’s with. She takes a step back, releasing Jungkook’s beautiful ass as she does. Her heart flutters at his words. Even as the sound has long cleared the space, she feels like she can still feel the vibrations of its echoes.

“We can’t,” she breathes, hand snaking up her torso and coming to rest above her pounding heart. “You know how I feel. You know how I… how I love you. Love you and that matchless ass of yours. But there’s so much more to consider.”

“Is it not enough for you?” He takes a step forward, just as she steps back again. “Is having me and a show-stealing ass not enough you? I fucking won the county fair with this beaut.”

“I know you did. And you won this heart, too,” you add so softly the words barely lift into the air.

If only she could melt into him, allow him to take her away somewhere far from the plaid ballgowns, the cow auctions, the dry desert of this town. Wasn’t she made for something so much bigger? For the great beyond of life? Not the smallness that her husband expected her to don, the repetitive role he asked her to play every day the sun poked her head above the dusty earth and the cows woke for their milking. A role he never thanked her for, either.

“I’m here to ask you to run away with me,” Jungkook says. 

Lainey looks up at him.

The man before her holds a great expanse within his stallion soul. One she wanted to fall into. One she wanted to explore and map and know like the back of her palm.

Like being struck by lightning during the rainy season, a bolt of understanding hits her. She wants this. Wants him.

Jungkook has her backed up against the large painting of Colonel Mustard that decorates the parlor, the yellow of his turtle neck casting a glow about the darkening room.

“Can I—”

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

Jungkook leans down to her, his palms coming to cradle her face as he brushes his lips against hers. Soft at first. And then all at once.

It is a kiss that consumes. One that swirls up all the feeling in the world into one large tumbleweed of emotion and sensation.

She pulls away, just enough to let a single word slip from her swollen lips.

“Yes.”

The moment the word slips out, she knows it’s true.

“Yes?”

“Take me with you when you leave this godforsaken town.”

“Really?”

“I’m all yours, cowboy.”

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taglist: @usuallynervoussheep @hesperantha​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​ @ladyartemesia​ @thatlongspringnight​ @ppersonna​

#bhqdrabbles #bangtanarmynet #btscreatorscorner #btsgoldnet #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #jungkook #jungkook ff #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts drabble #bts #drabble #cowboy #jungkook crack

[looking-for-wisdom]

A bit of a Zelda/Zoyalai AU for @stormwitch-privateer :) PS: it’s late, I didn’t think it though very much and am too tired to proof read so I apologize in advance.

Also,,,, Part 1/?

Nikolai came naturally to things. By that he meant he came naturally to things in the way every public figure does: through endless nights of agonizing practice and the ability to produce a smile so dazzling that one’s audience doesn’t notice the bags beneath their eyes when asked how they do it. He was charming, intelligent, and brave. He’d fought along side regular soldiers to reduce the monster population and dedicated himself to research on ancient tech so that his people might be safe.

But despite this he was unable to unlock the family heirloom meant to save them no matter how hard he studied. The power granted to each heir by the triforce of wisdom eluded him. No one had thought he would need it— Vasily was first born and as such was expected to inherit the gift. He had been the one to receive extensive training. Nikolai, on the other hand, was widely believed to not even be of true royal blood. In truth, if he were asked to put money on it, he’d have to agree.

But then Vasily had gotten himself killed in some ridiculous show of valor and Nikolai had gotten his chance to use his position to truly help Hyrule for the better. Now he was about to lose his people to his own shortcomings.

—

Long before the triforce of courage manifested in her Zoya had used the weight of a sword in her hand to make a place for herself in the world. It was her Aunt who had first noticed her talent and thought to use it as a means to protect her. Lilyana had brought her to the Gerudo where she’d been protected and taught the art of swordplay. By thirteen she’d even inherited their chief’s art of summoning thunder. It was hard work that left her battered and bruised, but she welcomed the challenge. Zoya became a name to be feared.

She remembered the exact moment the glowing inscription first appeared upon her hand. She’d found herself surrounded while privately practicing her form in the expansive desert surrounding town. The Yiga Clan base was near Gerudo Town, leaving them at constant risk of attack by the cult. It wasn’t a shock that they would plan an attack to take her out— she was becoming more and more notorious with each passing year, but she hadn’t expected them to be familiar enough with her personal schedule to make a move while she was alone.

She was badly outnumbered and within the first few minutes of the fight she found herself soaked in her own blood. But she was still breathing, at least for a bit longer, and as long as that was true she’d be dammed before she failed to put up a worthy fight.

She lifted her sword and prepared her next charge as the blade crackled with electricity. A growl ripped through her throat from the very bottom of her chest as she sprung forward. There was a blast of green light. The next thing she saw was bodies charred by still moving lightning as she stood breathing hard, sword still raised.

Knuckles white around her hilt, the back of her hand glowed with the three triangle design on every royal tapestry.

The next morning she’d strapped a sword to her side before beginning her journey to Hyrule castle.

—

The holder of the Triforce of courage was every bit as terrifying as the rumors said. There was something in her gaze that seemed to move, like a silent threat given without a single word. Some said it was the power of lightning moving through her body.

Needless to say, Nikolai thought she was incredible. She was everything he expected when he thought of the person fated to face evil without wavering for even a moment. She was fearless.

A part of him hated her for it.

She stood before him, waiting to be knighted by his hand, her expression like steel. She would stay by his side every moment after this, his personal guard and his partner in sealing the darkness. She had already unlocked her power, but even if she hadn’t he doubted she would care. She would have stared down the worst this world had to offer even without the power of the goddess at her command.

That was the essence of courage.

He raised the ceremonial blade over one of her shoulders and then the other. His mind spun as he considered his own role in this narrative. He wasn’t like her, simply radiating the bravery that coursed through her veins. He was supposed to have the goddess spilling from his as well, but she was silent even with all his prayers. His wisdom was earned through hard work and a act perfected by time.

“Zoya Nazlensky,” he began, voice even, “you have been appointed by the goddess to serve side by side with the triforce of wisdom in order to protect this land.”

He’d read every account from past heirs to Hyrule. He’d spent entire days in prayer in the hopes to feel something, anything. If he simply gave a bit more surely he’d be able to find a way out of the nothingness that threatened to consume him.

“From this day forward you will be entrusted with the fate of the people of Hyrule. May the goddess guide your blade so that your aim might always be true,” he finished stepping back so Zoya had room to rise. She was shorter than him but he still felt small in her presence. It was insufferable.

Seeing her he felt what he’d known for months become louder and louder until he could think of nothing else. He would never hold the triforce of wisdom, no matter how hard he might try. Zoya didn’t possess her triforce as much as she simply embodied it in her every act. It was second nature. Perhaps it was time he dedicate himself to the research that could really make a difference— studying the guardians and ancient Sheikah texts— instead of wasting his time trying to unlock a bloodright of a bloodline that wasn’t his. He couldn’t be Zoya or Vasily or the holders of wisdom who’d come before him, but he could be a damn good Nikolai. That would have to be enough. He begged, perhaps for the first time in his life, that the goddess let that be enough.

The goddess did not answer.

#zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #king of scars #kos #nikolai lantsov #writing #zelda kos AU #i wanna include genya and the squad in this but like... if theyre the champions does that mean they died aljdkadkd