#like all my ocs got tamer over time

[chronologiical]

Flower of remembrance

[themareverine]

Closer to Hell | shortking!DP&WLogan x fem!OC

SYNOPSIS: He may be five inches closer to hell than she is, but he takes up more space than God, sets fire to anything he’d dare to touch. 

warnings: flirtation, short king!Logan (don't come for me), ogling, eye candy, absolutely nothing else but filthy thoughts, maybe some eye fucking.

a/n: it's my 100 celebration fic, yay me! i recently rolled over to 110 i think during the holiday, and i wanted to do something super fun for my 100 celly. i decided to play with comics-accurate, short king Logan, because i feel like we really don't appreciate him all that much. a small part of my brain hasn't stopped thinking about him. thanks to all my followers, you guys make me possible on this website, and without your interaction and all your fun stuff, life really would be so much more boring.

“Monkey Shoulder, neat—if you got it.” 

Fingers pause, hovered over a tablet that looks as if it’s been to hell and back, only to survive the purgatory that is staring into the bartender’s face. Maybe forties, gray has overtaken the once-striking ruddiness of his beard, crows feet all but eating the templepieces of too-thick glasses perched on the end of his nose. 

Once gawking at her has clocked enough time, he bats aside the tablet, the screen swiveling away, maybe in relief. 

Curious if he’ll actually serve the scotch—it’s about the fourth bottle from the left of the very back row of liquors lined against the mirrored wall, not a cheap bottle by any means. Hardly top-shelf, either. An unusual request, sure, but, she’s always made a habit of trying out the screwy names when she’s traveling—and in this dress, in this bar, well. Exceptions certainly can’t be made. Cool vinyl of the barstool’s plush nips at the back of her legs as she plunks down, docking her heels on the bottom rung of the stool. 

“Whatever you say, swee’heart,” gaps in his teeth make pronunciation difficult, but he nods at her respectfully. Lithe, practiced grace turns him aboutface on his heel, short fingers plucking the bottle from that very back shelf. Mirrored reflection reveals a popped brow of we’ll see how this goes. Giving the bottle a little swirl, the copper liquid spins a tornado, wild and dangerous in its glass prison. Unstops the bottle with a jerk of his wrist, the little pop tipping up the corner of her lips. 

Seconds, maybe, and the short glass plunks down in front of her, untouched scotch all but begging to be acknowledged. Her finger lazily traces the rim, even from here she can taste the bark of the liquor, how it hums. Warm and biting, her chest flutters with anticipation—of all the drinks she’s sampled over the years, scotch is a favorite. Next to whiskey, but, whiskey she’s had plenty of the last few days. Scotch will be a nice tamer, something to shake up the night—shake up the thoughts burrowing trenches through the arteries and cavities in her chest. 

Sliding him her credit card, it’s plastic bites against the bartop. Watching him log the number, he hands it back. She buries it against the band of her bra, against her sternum. Eyes rolling, the bartender trudges away as if he’s witnessed some great atrocity, down the other end of the bar—takes an order with hushed whispers, leaving her to eyeball her scotch in solidarity. Silence. 

Friday and however much this dress would all but stand up and demand attention, she’s alone. But that’s no great sorrow—to be alone and actually let it eat away at the marrow in her bones would mean it is unwelcome, unfamiliar. Solo is all too familiar, rent free on her person–the devil and angel parked on either shoulder, guiding her through moments. It’s been this way her entire life, sparkling personality and sunshine attitude aside. Loudest wallflower to ever exist, perfectly forgettable—she’s great company when she’s seen, otherwise all too invisible. It’s learned behavior, expected of society’s less fortunate. 

A quick flick of her foot has the barstool swiveling, her elbow parked on the bar behind her. Eyeballing the room quickly reveals that, wallflower that she is—she’s an overdressed one, at that. And she could, probably, forgive herself. Hadn’t exactly expected Mulligan’s to be an axe-throwing venue, complete with Toby Keith on repeat and flannel-clad lumberjack wannabees and their buckle bunnies—axe bunnies? 

A sip of the scotch has her nose scrunching a little, the splash in the back of her throat almost hot,  even at room temp. Two lines to her right, a cute blonde does one hell of a job playing dumb as her date comes up behind her, helping her take stance. All but popping her ass back into his pelvis, there is not a stitch of air between them that could be breathed—he’s a little unbalanced. Probably that last Coors, she’s giggly and her face is red as a beet. Probably one too many Mich Ultra’s. Together they crack up into laughter, before she actually makes an attempt to throw an axe, dressed in cutoffs and a flannel shirt a size too large, knotted off at the midriff. 

Maybe should’ve Googled that one pre-game, but, as her grandmother had always chided, Better to be overdressed than under, baby. Besides, a little black sundress was acceptable just about anywhere—the heels could be overdoing it, though. Down goes another bite of scotch, and she’s perfectly content to watch blondie and her backwards-ballcap date tiptoe around the goings-on of pre-sex, until movement to her left catches her attention. 

Pool tables racked with activity, there couldn’t be one more girlie in tight jeans or shorts leaning over green felt if the men had decided to make room. Each man at the table sports arm candy, some even two, full peacock with open chests and lifted chins. Stetsons, ballcaps, even a few beanies make a fine cocktail of male specimens, all bullshitting around ripped up pool tables and scuffed wooden floors. Beer bottles, pint glasses, liquor mottles here and there, hanging out on tables and pool table edges like trophies. Evidence of presence, of time spent. Side-eying the exchange of money isn’t difficult—they make a show of it, as if this is theatre. Shifts on her barstool as their jibes and shoulder-claps get a little more elevated, a little more colorful. 

Too absorbed in watching the flock of men around the pool table, she misses the slight creak of a barstool accepting weight to her right. Jumps a little when the air bristles beside her, signaling a new body—someone else at the bar, too close for comfort. Too close to be ignorant. Especially when there’s nobody at the bar, taking up air. Just her and her simple Monkey Shoulder, just her and the defeat that sinks her shoulders a little as realization hits. 

She doesn’t have to check if it’s a man—his presence is overwhelming, almost dizzying. Masculine and purposeful, but not in a way that sends shivers down her spine. A quiet kind of energy, like the air before a storm. Unmoving but oh so deliberate, ripe with power. As if any moment something may collapse in on itself, rip open the air—but chooses, instead, to prowl. Like a tower, overlooking, but not imposing. Temperature, too, has spiked—whoever has just parked beside her ripples with heat like an inferno, it’s nearly tangible against her skin. Thick cologne swirls, a delicious idea beneath her nose that smells like musk, pine. Sweat and smoke–exhaust. Bike, maybe. 

Unsure whether the flush lifting from her breastbone to her cheeks is the scotch or the newcomer, she uses her foot to swivel back around, leaning forward to rest her arms over the bar. Thin glass between her fingers rings a little as her nail tick, tick, ticks against it, and staring into the coppery swirl of booze allows her a little bit of a casual side-eye to the man who has parked himself at her now eleven o’clock. 

Hair the color of midnight is full and thick, almost tinges a bit of sapphire under the fluorescents that dare to flicker a little above them. Even beneath full mutton chops, she can see the sharp line of a jaw—strong nose, purposeful brow. A striking profile, as he stares at his hands—thick hands, strong. Massive, more paw than actual hands, if she were poetic about it. Calloused, even from here. A troop of ebony hair forests his arms, thick and wiry—does little to hide the absolutely godlike muscle that all but stands up and demands recognition.

Arms no less than small trees, her eyes zero in on his veins, veins that may as well have their own ZIP—if careful, she could watch his blood actually current. Count the flutter of his pulse—intrusive thoughts win. She would give limb, soul to just hook up him to an IV and drink of whatever raw sexuality God had poured into his form.  

It’s easy to take in the rest of him—thick chest, well muscled would be an insulting adjective. She wouldn’t believe, for a moment, there was a percentage of fat on his person, not the way his jeans clung to his thighs. Unaware they made belts so small for adults, she’d never seen a narrower waistline. And abdominals—God Himself had only crafted those, broke the mold. Even from beneath whatever sad excuse of a threadbare black v-neck he’d thrown on this morning, they were washboard. She’d bet her life. 

Oh my god, of all the men— 

And just as quickly as she’d ventured off into whatever pornography such a man conjures up into brainspace, he shifts a little. Situates himself on his barstool—sits back, hand on his thigh, other draped along the bar easily in that only-a-guy way. And her gut all but plummets into hell between her feet—the floor could be stained with her own blood and she wouldn’t have flinched. What’s-his-name commands every molecule between them, could split atoms with his raw sexuality, probably. Every movement is like living color, and she swears to God she can feel her ovaries kicking into overdrive. 

Eyes snapping back to her own feet, she rocks her heels back on the barstool’s rung, bottom lip rolling inward to consider just how flushed she felt. Heart hammering the marrow in her bones, she can all but taste the sweat that’s racing down the river of spine, dampening the delicate lace of her panties. Blinking, she manages a steady breath between her lips, trying not to think about the bite of scotch lingering on her breath. Aware that her hands are shaking, she knocks back the rest of the scotch. Cracks the glass back to the bar’s wood all too aggressively. 

Somehow the bartender materializes in front of her, like Houdini. Or maybe Satan—she hasn’t decided. 

“What’re you having again?” 

If it's even possible to forget, she isn't sure, but her eyes connect with his. Thankful for the distraction. Movement to her eleven o’clock signal fires in her brain—her partner at the bar has, without saying anything, entered this conversation. Or, at the very least, made himself aware. 

“Monkey Shoulder,” she brushes some curl behind her ear, “neat. Double it, please.” 

It’s too fast, too nervous to be genuine. But it is, and of its own volition, her spine straightens a little. As if such a thing is a sin—shoulders fall back, her gaze drops to her hands. Bartender all but plucking the glass from between her hands, he travels back down the bar—retrieves the bottle, which he has somehow managed to forget. She watches him go like a desperate child, all too aware that the man beside her’s eyes have raked down her form, considering. Up and down—her heart flies, almost out of her chest. 

A barstool creaks, and it isn’t hers. Oh god.  

There’s always that little something that strikes the air—he’s going to say something. Her eyes flutter closed, imaging his lips parting and closing off syllables and consonants, forming words. It’s a delicious little thought that quickly ventures into ratings not suitable for children, and she has to bite the inside pocket of her cheek to anchor her back into the reality of the bar—because she’s, very suddenly, not here. Not as present and accounted for as an unescorted woman drinking should be, God help her. 

Scotch appears before her almost fantastically. Reaching for it, the glass suddenly is heavier than the earth between her fingers as she knocks it back, entirely. In one sharp, flaming go. It spins her senses in a tilt, and the world all but flips—managing the glass back to the wood somehow, she anchors herself. Two hands on the edge of the bar, white knuckling for purchase. Eyes pinched so tight she can feel her mascara brushing against the sensitive skin beneath her eyes, she releases a low growl that’s more of a moan than anything. 

“Now there’s someth’n you don’t see everyday,” a dark, wolfish chuckle. “Don’t think I’ve seen a lady down two scotch’s back to back without breathin’ before.” 

Mother of God, it’s low. And dangerous. She wouldn’t have heard a nuclear explosion if it had detonated directly to her left, the immaculate conception had only ever been so beautiful. And if he’s tagged anything on to his statement she’s missed it, blood galloping through her ears at such a rate it should alert the Kentucky Derby to put her at the starting gate. 

A steel beam would’ve been preferable to the heat dropping into her spinal column, his chuckle rattling low in a way that, obviously, is deliberate. And she’s more bolt upright than she has ever recalled in her lifetime, soldiers would patent whatever form this was for their ranks—he shifts on his barstool to face her, and she’s suddenly Icy Hot all over. Simultaneously hot and cold, shivering and flaming—Antarctic air and Vesuvius smoke. Words lap her brain like a pace car, but none form in the back of her Sahara-cracked throat. 

Blanking, first she stares at the empty glass between her fingers. Then to the stranger, who’s arm rests along the bar like it was designed for him. Spider to the fly, the little smirk tugging up the corner of his lips gets lost in the dark hairs of his beard and chops, the swirl of shadow that chases light in his eyes like nightmares. All kinds of predator, she doesn’t miss his eyes flicking over her—it’s quick, practiced. You’d miss it if one wasn't looking, but nothing about this man could be ignored. He demanded to be seen, though she suspected by the cool smile and the dark clothes, he would’ve preferred to be anything but noticed. But such beauty demanded attention, otherwise heaven lied. 

Realizing the conversation is open, he’s waiting, she tracks his words. Again.

And again, and again. 

Swallowing the slight shake to her confidence, her eyes track back to the glass. Hone in on tracing her finger along the rim. And she ignores the souring, burning liquor in the chasm of her gut where the scotch has hit nothing but open air, maybe stones in the base of her that maybe only God could see. 

“Oh.” Oh? OH? Coma patients showed more promising signs of life. “Guess you’ve seen it all?”

Oh my god, ohmygod, OHMYGODDD—

She couldn’t have been any more pathetic if she’d melted into the floor at his feet. Channeling the tremble of thinking into her hands, she nudges the glass away. Pulls it back. Plays with it like an amused cat with a toy, trying to decide if it’s friend or foe—if it's worth the distraction. A flick of her eyes back to the stranger and she suddenly realizes this glass is the only tether she has to the present world beyond this conversation—her only confidence. The only thing giving her an edge. 

And should it be ripped from her, she’d be nothing but a fish out of water—a fat trout gasping for air. 

“Not quite,” whatever he’s drinking, he tosses it back without hesitation. Line of his jaw twitches as the liquor registers, but not in an unwelcome way. “Haven’t seen you before.” Vanishing down the long line of his throat without so much of a flinch, he savors it—his tongue chases whatever lingers in his facial hair. The sight of his tongue, flat and wide, sends her gut twisting into thick knots she can’t even fully describe—his hand moves to smooth over his mouth, as if he’s combing his goatee back into place. 

Without thinking, “Well, here I am,” slips past her lips, matching her arms that open at either of her sides, as if putting herself on display. It’s bolder and far more brash than she could ever credit herself with—Monkey Shoulder. It's booze.

He chuckles, pleasantly she thinks. “Here you are—lucky sonuva bitch, aren’ I?” 

And without warning, he gets up. 

Uncertain what surprises her first, she blinks at him a few times, fluttery lashes drinking in his presence on two feet—he’s short. Like, short short. Not-your-typical-guy-levels of short. Built like a god, maybe closer to a brick house, but he’s at least five inches closer to hell than she is—and she’s five foot eight. Makes up for it in presence, though—if he’d been any taller, people would jump under tables.

Alarmed by the sheer weight of him taking up space, the corner of her mouth lifts a little in a smile. If it’s a confidence killer she wouldn't know, he shifts his shoulders like any man does. Chin leveled with the floor, his eyes catch with the same fierce confidence of any man she’s ever witnessed. Unable to tear her eyes away, the muscle in his forearms twitch alive as he smoothly goes for his jacket, drapes it over an arm. 

Christ alive, he is—wow. 

God’s perfect design, she thinks—he knuckles his glass a little closer. Glass rakes across the bar in a little song, he swings a thick leg over the barstool directly next to hers. Nothing but air between them, now, he sinks low, and she enjoys watching him do so—how his jeans pull just so along thick thighs. How how chest flexes as he angles to drape his jacket along the bar, how thick fingers card through hair she could covet the rest of her living daylights. Closer, she can feel his heat, his masculinity ebbing like an alive river, trailblazing new paths. Looking for her, reading the moment. 

More like a predator than she realized first blush. Biting the corner of her lip, his gaze flicks over her a third time. She matches his effort. Much goes unsaid for a lot of moments, until he introduces himself—Logan. No other name would suit such a man, she thinks—within heartbeats her own name slips between them, between the lines of his popped brow and the question he asks next. 

“You drinkin’ alone, darlin’?” 

Nudging her empty away, Logan offers her a quicksilver look, hooded eyes and a cocked back expression that’s easy, collective. Nonplussed, like this is easy—like it isn’t rattling every bone in her body, taking inventory of every organ and cell raging like wildfire in her veins. Expectation brims, and she lifts a flirtatious shoulder, looking from his hand that lingers on the bar back to his eyes—and they are dark eyes, eyes that belong to only one kind of man. The type of man her daddy had warned her about, that daddy’s all over God’s creation sat up with shotguns over. 

Lovely, focused eyes. Logan knew exactly what he was doing. Few others were such masters. 

“Should I be?” 

Wrinkles that form along his eyes when he smiles are criminal. They belong, she thinks—he wouldn’t be right without them. “Would be worried if you were,” flashing two fingers at the bartender, his eyes move back to her, taking in the full scope of her features, “‘n my experience, pretty girls need someone t’stave off the wolves.” Chin lifted in the direction of the pool table trips her gaze to follow. 

He thinks I’m pretty—and that’s newsworthy, stop the presses. 

Nodding slowly, she fights back a smile. “Ah. I see,” angling to tuck a foot behind the other, her elbow props on the bar, chin in the heel of her palm, “and who’s to say you aren’t a wolf, Logan?”

A tease, of course, but the way his gaze snaps back to her so quickly, one would’ve assumed she’d reached out and slapped him. Darkness through his eyes briefly rustles alarm down her spine, and her hand gently moves to retrace the rim of a refreshed glass as silence crescendos between them. Her anchor, again. A tether to reality, to anywhere beyond the depth of the window's to his soul.  

Knocking back another sharp drink, he rolls a shoulder. “Not really a wolf,” his nose wrinkles a little as he shakes off the idea, eyes moving back to hold hers, “pack animals. Too much competition,” shrugging a shoulder, he chuckles, “besides—too short t’be a wolf, too close to hell. More like a—well, more like’a wolverine, I s’pose.” 

And that makes her giggle, like a child.

“Wait—a wolverine? Aren’t they weasels?” Her head cocks to the side, genuine curiosity wrinkling her nose—he smiles, quicksilver that’s cool, cuts down to parts of her she wouldn’t share elsewhere. Heat rises to her cheeks, deepening the makeup she’d been so deliberate to place earlier in the evening. “How is that better?”

Dissolving into giggles isn’t her style, not usually—but it’s too comedic a mental image to set aside. 

“Brought out that smile, didn’t it?”

Oh. 

She hums, nodding. Tries to hide the fluster of color sneaking up her breastbone to her cheeks. Fails.

“Charming, aren’t you?”

“It’s the scotch.” 

She laughs again, shaking her head. Turns back to the bar, too flushed and girlish to take him seriously—or the weight of his eyes. They bore into her side profile like drills, lapping up the heat on her face. Any second now he’ll come to his senses, she thinks. Conversation would fall flat, too embarrassed to speak and too innocent to flirt—he’d tire of the doe eyes.

They always did. 

Thunk thunk thunking axes hit home on targets far behind them, almost a world away.

She tracks, too sharply, like a desperate animal Logan getting up from his barstool—here it comes. Fishes his wallet from his back pocket. Withdraws more than enough money, actually more money than would be necessary for the entire night. Tosses it on the bar like it’s easy, like it means nothing.

Watching him, chin still in hand, he works into his jacket like guys always manage—in a sexier way than necessary. Pops the collar. He may be five inches closer to hell, but he takes up more space than God, sets fire to anything he’d dare to touch. 

Tossing back the rest of her scotch, she inhales a deep breath through her nose. Enough to swell her chest, pull her guts in tighter than she thought possible. Disappointment bleeds like a gunshot wound into her chest, mingling with her ribs, and she wills up cold courage. Hands on the bar spin her around on the barstool, lips parted for goodbyes—-

—only to be met with his hand, extended to her. 

“Wanna get outta here?” 

His brow lifts, investigative. Hers are nearly in her hairline, surprise shellshocked her face like broken plaster. Blinking at his hand, her stomach all but explodes when his finger crooks for her to come, to follow.

It’s a wanton gesture, the way his brow bobs teasingly. Corner of his mouth lifting in a way that’s devilish, almost sinful. Asking where to go is hardly necessary—she’d probably follow him into hell, if so persuaded.

Asks anyway. 

“Not sure yet, pretty—but, tell me. How d’ya feel about ridin' double?”

[istorkyou]

A Thousand Battles (A Modern Ivar AU)

A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)

Warnings- Angst, violence, death, smut.

Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?

Word Count - 3113

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree

Masterlist

Chapter 14 - Final Chapter

He is in a meeting when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Well, it’s not really a meeting, more of an information gathering session in a warehouse involving sharp instruments and spilled blood. He’s been taking on more and more of these ‘meetings’ since she disappeared, a good way to expel some of his rage and sadness productively.

He walks away from the man he is dealing with, wipes his hands on a cloth and gets his phone out to an interesting message on his screen.

One of her passports was used to get into the country three hours ago.

A smile quirks onto his lips very briefly followed by a deep inhalation of breath.

“You, take over from here. Just kill him. I’ve got the information I need now.”

He hears a gunshot behind him as he heads out to his armoured SUV to take him back to the estate.

When he arrives back he doesn’t go to the main house but straight to their house. He knows Ragnar would have got the same message and he needs to check something out first before he sees his father. He hurries to their shared closet, still full of her clothes and he pulls out the black shoes with the red soles, her stash spot, pulling out an untraceable phone. He turns it on and waits. The phone beeps twice. Two messages. Both from anonymous numbers, both from her.

Coming home. Too dangerous now.

See me before they get to me? I will come alone. I miss you so much.

He texts back quickly.

Yes. Will message soon. I love you. Thank you for all the photos last week, baby.

As he stashes the phone back he lets his finger run over the notebook that took him less than three days to decipher. One of the reasons he searched so hard for her and established secret communication. He cried for days when he broke the code and read her words. An anthology of love, dating from the night they met, describing every feeling she ever had for him, her deep love, the light he had reignited inside her after years of living in the black. Much as he had before he met her. The reasons why she acted as she did after Sardinia, the threats made against his life, the coldness she showed him when underneath she felt nothing but adoration. She explained it all in a diary she never intended for anyone to read. Her soul lives in these pages, and so does his.

Always and forever, no matter how far apart.

———————

He heads to the main house and into his fathers study.

”I am sure you’ve seen the message. She has returned.” Ragnar says without looking up from his papers.

Ivar nods. “I’ll take care of it. She will contact me soon, I’m sure of it.”

Ragnar looks up and stares into his son's eyes, carbon copies of his own. “Will you be able to finish the job this time? She cannot live, Ivar. She simply must die. If you feel like you can’t do it, or she will get the drop on you again I’ll send a whole team to hunt her down.”

“I’ll do it father. She is my responsibility. I will not fuck it up again. I’ll let you know when she contacts me and what the plan is from there.”

Ragnar nods in agreement and rounds his desk to embrace his son. “I am sorry for this, sorry it has to be done. You understand though?”

“I do. It’s been a long time coming,” Ivar says tersely, “I’ll speak to you soon.”

———————

He leaves the estate in his own vehicle, he drives for an hour and no one is following him. He pulls into a multi-storey car park and switches cars and drives for an hour to another car park and does the same.

It’s dark by the time he reaches the hotel. A shitty, off the track hotel he’d never be seen dead in usually. He walks as quickly as he can to a door and knocks three times.

The door opens a fraction and he pushes it the rest of the way, slowly revealing his wife to him. She has her gun pointed at him.

“Alone?”

“Alone, baby.” He steps in and shuts the door behind him before they walk quickly towards each other, arms pulling the other into a tight embrace, clinging to the other, tears falling.

“I missed you so much, Liet.”

“Fuck I missed you so much too.”

They pull at each other’s clothing, frantic to get the other naked as quickly as possible. When their goal is managed they fall onto the crappy, lumpy hotel bed together on their sides, her leg over his waist before he pushes her onto her back and he crawls over her, their mouths attached the whole time. She grabs his hard cock and lines him up a half a second before he pushes deep into her.

Their mirrored groans into each other’s mouths make them giggle.

“Fuck, love, you feel so good,” he says into her mouth before moving her inside of her, drawing deep, low moans from her. “I missed you every second of every day.”

“Me too, Ivar. Harder, please, harder!”

Their fingers dig into each other's skin, pulling into the other, trying to close the millimetres left between their bodies, a desperate need to feel every part of the other, a desperate need to fill the two year gap since they last were with each other physically.

It takes no time for their knowledge of each other’s bodies to kick in and they make each other orgasm. Shuddering against each other, the air blue with obscenities.

When they finally loosen their grip on the other they stay as close as possible, noses touching, laying on their sides, hands running up each other’s backs.

“Hi, baby,” he laughs out.

“Hi, love,” she giggles in reply.

They just stare at each other, who knows for how long. Long enough for him to run his hand through her longer hair. To run his fingers over some new scarring on her body. Long enough for her to touch his thigh where she inflicted a break. Long enough to revel in his eyes and compare them to his.

“Anyone since us, Ivar? Are you happy?”

“No one. No one ever again. Always and forever, baby. You?”

“Never for me, Ivar. You and only you. I need you to be happy again though. After all this.”

Ivar waves his hand as if dismissing her words. There is no point in lying to her, pretending he will ever let anyone in again so he just changes the subject.

“I did what you asked, love, I killed Lev.”

Her eyes fill with tears and she lets out a giggle of relief. “Thank you, Ivar. How?”

“I peeled his skin off slowly and I made him watch videos of us when we were happy, after the accident. He begged for your forgiveness and his life in the end, love.”

A nasty sneer flashes across her face. “Good, he deserves every second of pain you inflicted on him.”

A comfortable silence settles between them again before Ivar breaks it. “Where is he, Liet?”

“He’s safe I promise. I will need to get back to him in the early morning. That’s why I’m back, it’s too dangerous now. I’ve had too many close calls and I’m frightened for him. He needs stability, Ivar. I’m done running. I’m here to face what I need to, and to give you your son. You need to keep him safe from now on. I can’t offer him that any longer.”

Ivar knew this is why she had come back. Knew his men had almost caught her in Belize. Had heard rumours of her father almost tracking her down in Peru. Ivar almost gave himself away numerous times trying to throw them off her and their sons scent, Ragnar was suspicious at one point and that was when the Belize incident happened. He had warned her but a little too late. He begged her to bring his son back to him but she wasn’t ready.

She is ready now.

Ivar clears his throat, trying to dislodge the ball in it. “I am going to talk to my father. Things are different now, with the baby. I… I’ll talk sense into him. We can be toget…” the rest of his sentence is cut off by her lips crashing his. When she pulls away she gives him a little smile.

“Ivar. We’ve talked about this. Your father will not allow me to live, for his reputation and his own peace of mind. I knew coming back here it would be the end for me, I’m under no illusion I will not die tomorrow. I thought you had come to terms with it, baby?” She runs her hand over his furrowed brow and her thumb wipes a tear away. “Even if Ragnar allowed it, which he absolutely will not, I wouldn’t allow it. If my father knew I was back, knew about our son, he would never stop coming for me, for him. He wouldn't stop until we were all cold in the ground, everyone, your mother, father and brothers. There would be no peace until he had our son in his care. I can not allow that. I’m here so our baby can have a life without being hunted for the mistakes I made.” She is aware her voice isn’t as soft as she would like it to be, but she also knows that Ivar responds to this cold, detached hard truth. “I have loved you enough for a whole lifetime, this is how it has to be, love. You know this.”

He doesn’t reply, he nods stiffly and a silence settles between them.

“Liet. He will always know about you, I’ll never let him forget how much you love him, how much we love each other. No one will poison his mind against you.”

His heart breaks entirely to pieces as she crumbles down in front of him. She knows this is her last night on this Earth. Her actual last night this time. She is giving herself up for the sake of their baby. Their 14 month old baby who has his fathers eyes nestled in the features of his mother.

The greatest sacrifice a mother can make.

“Ivar, try to raise him out of this life. I know that won’t be easy, but send him to college, make him useful away from the violence. Make sure my father doesn’t get to him. Make sure Ragnar doesn’t ruin him. I’m trusting you with our baby, Ivar. You need to do for him what my past had robbed from me, a chance at a happy future. Be soft with him, like you are with me. Be loving and supportive no matter who he turns out to be or the choices he makes. Show him my Ivar, not the Ivar everyone else sees. Promise me?”

“I promise. I will be the best father,” Ivar says resolutely.

She gives him a genuine smile. “I have absolutely no doubt that you will.”

“Tell me more about him, baby.”

They spend the next few hours talking about him, his likes, his dislikes, how he sleeps curled up next to her every night with his favourite Elephant cuddly. She explains how rough the next few months will be for Ivar, he is his daddy but FaceTime can’t replicate a real connection. She explains how to best comfort him, what songs to sing him and how to make him laugh, what she wants for him in the future. She tells Ivar she has written letters for when he is older so he can understand what happened, but that it will be up to Ivar to judge when and if he feels their son can handle the information. Ivar says nothing, he just soaks up every word.

“I think that’s it.” She glances at her watch.”I will send you a text at 11am to tell me to meet me at 4pm. Your father will intercept it, we both know he will send someone. Just…. Just cover his eyes before, promise me you won’t both watch me die.”

“I promise. I promise you. We have 8 hours until I need to be home to get the message.”

“8 hours.”

“Those hours are for us and us only.” He reaches for his phone, and taps until the room is filled with music.

Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac.

He stands up and holds his hand out to her. “Come dance with me one last time, baby.”

Her eyes mist over again as she goes to him, clinging to him tightly. She closes her eyes, compartmentalises the coming day and enjoys every second they have remaining.

————————-

9am rolls around and it’s time for him to go.

They cling to each other before she loosens her grip and grabs his face, pulling it closer to hers.

“In the next life, Ivar. I will find you in the next and every life we have after. Look after our baby.”

He holds her face, forehead touching hers. “This life and the next. I love you. I will keep him safe. I promise on everything I am, my beautiful Liet. The bravest person I’ve ever met, my fighter, my Valkyrie.”

They share a kiss, a kiss so full of love, pain, admiration and promise that they both smile and cry as they pull away and he leaves.

—————————

His phone beeps dead on 11am.

Meet me at warehouse 2c at 4pm. Just you. I have something for you.

He enters the main house to his father waiting in his study.

“You saw the message?” he asks his Father.

“I did. I wonder what she has for you?”

“A bullet in my brain I would imagine?”

Ragnar regards him, hard eyes travelling over his face. “Take your gun. You shoot her on sight. There is nothing she has that we need, nothing she can give you worth anything. Kill her and we can all move on.”

Ivar nods quickly. “That is my plan.” He turns to walk out of his fathers office.

Ragnar waits until the heavy slam of the front door hits his ears before picking up his phone. “4pm. The docks. Set up a sniper. Kill her if he hesitates.”

——————-

Ivar pulls up to the warehouse and sits for a second. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to stop the flow of tears that have been cascading down his face the whole 45 minute ride over. His heart is ripping to shreds inside his chest, despite having years to come to terms with it, a tiny sliver of bright hope lit his black soul thinking they could be a family one day. His rational brain knew it would never happen, she told him weekly it would never be the case, but the fact that the end is now is too much for him to bear.

But bear it he must. Not for her, or himself, but for their beautiful son.

He walks into the warehouse and his trained eyes see the minuscule glint from the sniper rifle up high in the corner. He will be sure to tell his father about the snipers fuck up.

His eyes find her, standing in the centre of the massive room, her back to him. His heart stops. She hasn’t brought the baby, he can’t see his son. When he is close enough he gets his gun out and points it at her.

“Liet?”

She turns slowly, their baby asleep in her arms, she doesn’t look at Ivar, she doesn’t take her eyes off their baby, soaking in every last second she has with him. He lowers his weapon as soon as he sees his son.

“The sniper is shit, love. I spotted him the second I walked in,” she chuckles lightly, “tell Ragnar I said he needs better men.

————

The sniper can’t hear what they are saying, and neither can Ragnar watching from his office from a camera feed attached to the rifle.

“Sir, she has a baby in her arms.”

“I can see that.”

“Shall I take the shot?”

“No. Do not dare. I’m pretty sure I am looking at my grandchild.” Ragnars eyes are full of tears. It’s been years since anything elicited such emotion from him. He understands now why Ivar has tried to keep her safe these past two years, not just out of love for her, but a fathers love for his child.

Ragnar wipes his eyes and rolls his shoulder. “Be ready. This is an exchange. When it’s done I will give the word.”

—————

Julietta gives Ivar a look of pure love. “Ready, baby? When I hand him to you I need you to turn away and walk out. Don’t watch me die, love. Okay?”

Ivar’s nods twice. They step towards each other, he drops his gun on the floor so he can embrace her one last time. With their foreheads touching, and tears on their faces she hands the baby to Ivar, bends down, sniffs the baby's head and kisses him before turning her attention back to his father, placing a slow kiss on his lips.

“In the next life, love,” she says

“Always and forever,” he replies.

She takes two steps back and Ivar swivels on his heels, clinging to his son, lurching away on his crutch.

———-

“Sir, shall I take the shot now?”

Ragnar is silent. His heart is breaking for his son but he knows what must be done. Even if he saw fit to let her live Ragnar knows her own father would never stop coming for her and if he were ever to catch up with her he would torture her to death. Ragnar rolls his shoulders and clenches his teeth.

———-

Ivar hears the pop and the whizz of the bullet from the sniper fly past him. He hears the grunt from her chest on impact and he hears as she falls to the floor with a thud.

The tears in his eyes blind him, he squeezes his eyes shut to clear them. He wants to scream up into the universe, make the whole world hear his pain. But he looks into the face of his sleeping son in his arms and knows he won’t, he won’t scare him. So he holds it in, to be let out at a later time when his son is not with him.

He will be the best father to their son

For her.

His beautiful Liet.

FIN.

[aloe-vera-7]

All of my OCs

The Choreographer (scugsona)

The Choreographer is a creative, optimistic, and reasonable slugcat that was adopted by an iterator named Four Stacked Voices (FSV) after their family lost them inside FSV's superstructure when they were just a pup. They found an interest in music when FSV introduced them to hymns. Over the cycles, they have been studying music composition and even composed a few pieces. They collect blank data pearls to write music on, often getting those pearls from the local scavenger colony they're allied with near FSV's superstructure. One time, after gifting a few pearls to the local scavenger colony, Choreographer received a “peace treaty” (let’s be honest, it was just a gift), a jacket with a glyph on the back that symbolizes their alliance with the colony.

Lore: How Choreographer got their scar

The Locator

Locator lived in a colony as a gatherer during expeditions, but after the expedition group had gotten to a scavenger toll without enough resources to pass, they were forced to scavenge for more resources, in which they found a bomb.

They carefully made their way back to the scavenger toll. But unfortunately, they tripped, and the bomb went off in their paw, injuring their entire right arm and blinding them permanently.

The colony successfully helped treat their wounds, but it was too late for their eyes. Now having to live in darkness forever, Locator adapts by gaining greater spatial awareness and more sensitive hearing.

Lore: How Locator lost their sight

The Tamer

A wild slugcat from a distant colony that has an expertise in taming creatures, whether it be lizards, squidcadas, or even vultures, when they tamed an entire yellow lizard pack, their colony wasn’t happy at the amount of lizards, and they got kicked out, leaving them homeless.

After their lizard pack dissolved, they were able to tame a red lizard by saving its babies from a white lizard. The slugcat and the red lizard became acquaintances and they took care of the red lizard babies together.

Unfortunately, many cycles later, the babies died due to a shelter failure while they were away hunting for food, and now they wander the land together, without a purpose.

Lore: How Tamer met Scarlette the red lizard

The Colony Expedition Group

Lore:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

The Gatherer / Brute

Past: Witness's younger sibling, being abandoned by their parents before they could even remember, thus, never knowing they had parents in the first place. They were raised in a colony with Witness, and looks up to them and striving to be just like them. They were optimistic and cheery, but childish and cowardice. They loved hanging out with people and making friends, so they quickly gained a good reputation in the colony. They have a lucky spear, which is a sharpened rod of rebar with a green cloth tied on the end. The spear they never lost, the spear that helped them kill a green lizard, the spear that's kept them safe when Witness couldn't. They believed this spear was magical (it isn't, they were just lucky). Although they weren't as familiar with Hauler and Warrior like Witness was, they were ecstatic when they were finally invited to participate in their first expedition, with them. But a while in, they found that one particular region proved to be too much for them, after being warned it was very dangerous and unexplored.

Future: The cycle had taken a toll on their mental state, their realization that their life was just death and rebirth forever had ruined their optimistic take on life. Gatherer had grown to hate the colony, they despised the name the colony had given them, so they changed their name to "The Brute". They no longer believed their "lucky spear" was lucky at all, but they still kept the green cloth because it still held a sentiment to them. They were desperate at this point. Eventually, they finally escaped, almost being impaled by a King Vulture harpoon that grazed their right cheek. They had grown up, their fur had dulled from the dirt and grim from the region (also because of age).

The Witness

Past: Acting as Gatherer's guardian after their parents abandoned them, they've become overprotective of Gatherer, as they're the only thing the have left. After wandering into a colony, they were happily accepted and raised there. On their first expedition, Gatherer gifted them their favourite blanket (washed, of course) to remember them by if they ever miss their younger sibling. Wearing it as a bandana ever since. They are best friends with Hauler, but they have a bad reputation of Warrior, often bickering and arguing for petty reasons, such as Warrior's bad taunts at both them and Gatherer. They usually take the role of a scout during expeditions, due to their higher agility and focus.

Future: Now a parent of an energetic green slugpup, their fur dulled from age and their bandana worn-out. Having to live without their younger sibling for many cycles, they relinquished on getting Gatherer back in exchange for raising their child.

The Hauler

A caring and determined slugcat, likes to indulge in simpler aspects of life when they aren't helping the colony out, resulting in a pudgy build, but don't underestimate their strength. They often joke around, but can be serious and supportive when needed. They hate Witness's and Warrior's bickering, they often try to help the two resolve their conflict, but most of the time, to no avail.

The Warrior

A hotheaded but laidback slugcat with an affinity for expeditions, they love action and often take the role as a fighter during them. Hauler's best friend, but rival of Witness, often bickering due to petty things. They HATE being made fun of, but unfortunately, their height makes them an easy target. They usually scruff their hair to hide their cowlick, being insecure about it. They make a ton of jokes, and uses dark humor a lot, not taking dire situations seriously, to the point where it may ruin their friendships.

The Scrapper

An often quiet and reserved slugcat that likes blacksmithing, although not liking interactions all that much, they help out the colony quite a bit by supplying them with spears and what not.

The Tutelar

A devoted leader of the colony, organizes most colony expeditions, but is growing old and weary. Many have suggested they retire soon, including their own child, Scrapper, but Tutelar is adamant on keeping their role, even if it kills them.

[nephilimbrute]

show .us

I haven't drawn one of the two yet cuz i didn't have motivation. I'll show my evil circus ocs though

i made these ocs back in like 2022 and my art style improves at a rapid pace, so they're well over due for redesigns. here are the performers/workers though :3c

- cirque de lumiere / circus of light is a french circus upholding a reputation of it being one of the greatest in france, with performances consisting of a giant cheshire cat, world's tallest man, even one of the most spectacular magicians. though, more sinister things happen under the big top

fratellini / The Saint or "Saint the Fool" (knife-juggling clown, she/her). she's very silly and likes to mess with the other performers. montblanc is her best friend

françois / "François the Great" (magician, he/him). flamboyant fuck that does all the "mind-controlling" at the circus. he likes to bother aesop, working with him to steal other's belongings when they're not looking

aesop / "He Who Talks to Crows" (crow tamer, he/him). obviously, he tames crows. kinda like a lion tamer, but his crows steal jewelry from the audience when they are too busy being enamored by the show

^^^ this drawing was made 2 months ago, just haven't got to coloring it. it is a redesign for them though, the names on the bottom are their former names cuz i changed them (or their stage names)

montblanc / "The Cheshire" (cheshire cat, he/him). veery giddy kitty. his voice claim is of course, sterling holloway (voice actor of the cheshire cat in 1951 alice in wonderland). he loves surprises and often dismisses questions, liked by everybody in the circus

apollon / "Big Top" (strongman, he/him). i haven't got to redrawing him yet so the anatomy is off ^^; it's the original drawing. anyways he's cocky and a big show-off. yes he's half spider

as you can see montblanc is also a recent drawing which i haven't colored yet

cassius / "Cassius the Warrior" (stuntman, he/him). he isn't really developed that well, but he performs dangerous stunts for the audience, though he's very jumpy. works well with montblanc and jack

mister (or wilheim) / "The Living Nutcracker" (nutcracker idk what he does, he/him). he's also Severely underdeveloped. made him as a christmas special and revealed him on christmas day last year. he lives up to the whole british soldier thing, he does whatever he is told to do n stuff

vivienne / "Black Widow" (vaudeville/cabaret?, she/her). she's kind of a flirt, she puts on performances for the more mature audiences. i like her and this drawing just made me realize how tall she is

now THIS is old. vivienne is the only one i drew recently, i'll be putting her at the end. also cassius' design was designed by a friend:3

chono (ringmaster, he/him). he's the lead of the circus, very very evil

nato (he/him) is chono's assistant. he's on high alert a good amount of the time

jack (or jacqueline) / "Jack-in-the-Box" (surprise performer, she/her). she loves to surprise people when fratellini cranks the handle on her box and she pops out. she can be foul-mouthed and rude, always getting in people's faces n' such

...yyeaah this one is also old. though i made some adjustments to the colors a few months ago, the style and stuff is still old

vanitas (or nicolaes) / "Memento Mori" (puppeteer, he/him) is the nicest circus performer. he puts on puppet shows, when he speaks he adapts the personality of what puppet he's using, and he'll often make up a conversation. his puppets are commedia dell'arte characters. when not using any puppet, he talks normally + he's polite. his 'face' is a mask by the way

this drawing i made like 3 days ago lol. it's his redesign concept, his original one i just went head-first and i still don't like it >.>

and last but not least these two. first we have baroness (or marie-christine) / "Dangerously Yours" (singing entertainment, she/her). she also puts on shows for the more mature audiences, in which she'll sing on a stage. her songs are often quite dark, the audience never realizes it though. her design is also by the friend who made cassius

and on the right is primadonna (or marcel. mime, she/her) who is, of course, a mime. i think her face is her actual face. my sister helped design this one

i made these doodles like, a month or two ago. just concepts so i can get their designs down

that's Allll for the circus performersssss ^w^^^^ hope u enjoy them. Oh and there's this other one who's been stuck in concept stage (i haven't even drawn them yet), their name is El Lissitzky, based on the real El Lissitzky's paintings. think they're gonna be a painter as well

onto old/new pieces... wwweeew

^ here's that vivienne piece i mentioned. i posted her to this blog already...

the original designs and how they're supposed to look when colored:3c also this montblanc is a slightly updated version of his original drawing to make his fur look better

and finally vanitas' original design... yeaahh. wanted to go for a jester-like look, his design is somehow simultaneously too much and too little. i never really had a proper concept for him beforehand, just the silhouette of what he was supposed to look like. strongly disliking the colors thou

also recent apollon i did as a style test:3 all of these circus performers have a voice claim BTW :P

...I think this was a reaaaalllly long post

[zip-toonz]

asks you about your digimon oc(s)!!!!!

(im following the impmon tag and stumbled across em!!!! they seem really really cool!!!!)

Hi! I'm so sorry I took so long to get to this ask! I remember seeing it and going 'Oh! I'll answer that when I get home' and forgot too in the Hussle and Bustle of life. Jackie and Hallow my beloves thank you so much for asking me to talk about them!

Their dynamic is so fun to me because I made them with limited knowledge of the series after watching like 3 episodes of the dub for Tamers.

Jackie: An American girl who's dad moved for work. Same grade as Takato. She's been homeschooled for a solid majority of her school life due to being minorly Immunocompromised, and only recently started attending school publicly. Funnily enough she never got into playing Digimon like some of her peers. The appeal escaped her entirely. So how did she end up with a Digivice and a Partner Digimon?

Total Accident. Jackie spending a lot of time at home took up a lot of hobbies with her favorite being tech repair. She picks up a discarded Scanner and the beat up cards that were in the box with it. Initially planning to fix it and pawn it for a bit of pocket money or possibly for scrap parts if that failed. Not really getting how the game works she swipes a set of cards (Blue Card -> Beat up Impmon card) when the device sparks she calls it quits and leaves it be for the night. Next morning she's greeted by Hallow. The device being in such poor condition sort of spat out an amalgamation of the Impmon and whatever unfortunate decor was close enough for it to scan (I pitched the idea of it being a sticker packet or Halloween candy to a friend) which is why Hallow looks like...that.

Jackie is very big into creepy/cute, Halloween core. I described her lovingly as Hot Topic, Skelanimals girl so you can imagine what her room is like. She's now a Tamer to a Digimon and has no Idea what being a tamer means.

Hallowseve Impmon: Like Jackie Hallow is in a compromised state due to the circumstances of his creation. He glitches sporadically and none of his moves deal damage. Its all Illusionary magic at best. He has to resort to evasion to get by. Despite this he loves to mess around and get into trouble. Namely with Impmon. Him and Jackie are meant for each other. They only fight when absolutely necessary and focus on evasion and distractions so they can leave the battle as soon as possible. Jackie has no way of knowing what would happen if his data was absorbed and if there would be a way to recover him if he was. So they have to get creative.

Hallow is extremely attached to Jackie. The only way he can Digivolve is when he has to protect her (or her father) and the repercussions of this is that due to their bond it saps energy from her to power it, it's an absolute last resort. (He digivolves into Beelstarmon (Hellstarmon) and not Beelzemon.)

Their dynamic is built on learning to work. At first Hallow was adamant he had to fight because that's what Digimon do. But over time, a few close calls, and meeting Henry and Takato they learn what works best for them. Hallow realizes fighting isn't for him and he has far more fun spending time with Jackie and using his magic in performative ways.

[silent-silver-slip]

Fires please please please write Charlie Weasley + his dragon tamer friends going to pick up Norbert through the lens of them as an exhausted, over-caffeinated grad school cohort trying to avoid working on their dragon tamer's equivalent of a thesis.

Knits, I love you and I ADORED This prompt and it went in a direction i did not expect, but I did enjoy writing some fun OCs. My apologies for any mistakes - I had work until 2am, am going off 5 hours of sleep, and it's almost bed time.

Needless to say, I'm a little tired lol. Story is below the line along with some fun little notes I made along the way!

Charlie feels like no one warmed him that studying dragons involved reports.

Which, look, sure it probably could have been explained in the whole ‘studying’ thing, and it’s not like Charlie minds reading or writing about dragons. He can do physical reports and description reports and health reports (and even incident reports)—but! He didn’t sign up for writing a Merlin damn thesis.

Except for, y’know, how he kind of did.

“Does anyone want to swap thesis topics?” Taylor asks, from where they’re on their bed—though, perhaps, it would be more accurate to say that they’re hanging off their bed, hair touching the ground. “I don’t think I understand anything about the keratin growth and how the production changes from an adult dragon to a hatchling dragon. I didn’t sign up to learn chemistry!”

Jessie kicks zir legs out. “I’ll trade,” ze says. “Do you know how little research exists on how sunlight effects the properties of dragon scales while the dragons themselves are still alive? The answer, in case you were wondering, is very little!”

“Would our supervisors kill us if we swapped topics a week before our three-minute presentations?” Charlie muses.

“Yes,” is the resounding answer he receives from the two other parties in the room. Charlie accepts this with a groan, and rolls over so that he’s face-first in the carpet. If he’s lucky, he might suffocate and die and not have to present his thesis at all.

One can always have hope.

There’s a moment of silence before Sunny says, “I suppose it’s a good time to mention I’m back?”

Charlie rolls over, and makes grabby hands at one of the mugs that Sunny has levitating beside her. “I love you,” he says. “What would I do without you?”

“That would be almost romantic if I didn’t know you were talking to your coffee,” Sunny says, “and also maybe if I was straight. Anyway, I caught the ends of the conversation—and I think our problems can all be blamed on one source.”

“Oh?” Taylor—no longer upside-down—says, before taking a long slurp of their coffee. Charlie pulls a face at the sound. At least he remembers his manners, for the most part.

Sunny hums as she hands Jessie zir drink. “Indeed. It’s Charlie’s fault.”

Charlie splutters, coughs, and almost dies by coffee. “I’m sorry, how?”

“Well,” Sunny says, as she begins to levitate herself, legs crossed, “consider our thesis topics themselves—do you know how often it is that there’s a focus on dragon health and safety to a standard above and beyond the Ministry standards? It’s not that often at all, you know.” The carpet rises until Sunny is sitting on it, and Charlie doesn’t know whether to frown at it—it never works for him—or at Sunny for her slander.

“She’s got a point,” Jessie says. Ze taps zir fingers against zir mug. “I mean, the sanctuary is a sanctuary, but usually research tends to be a little less ethical.”

By now, Charlie is well and truly frowning. “Just say cruel,” he says, anger growling in his chest like a dragon. “I mean, we’ve heard the rumours about how the goblins treat their dragons! But if I want to launch a rescue, it’s wrong and going to start a goblin war. I’m sure they wouldn’t notice if I figured out a way to create a spell that did the same thing without the whole sentient problem.”

“You,” Taylor says, with all the dramatics an over-caffeinated thesis student can contain, “are going to be trying to create this spell for years.”

Charlie sniffs. “That’s better than your first opinion of it taking decades,” he says, like he isn’t aware of the fact it will, likely, take decades. “Anyway, I fail to see how my caring for dragons wellbeing has anything to do with the struggles we face with our thesis?”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Taylor says. “The lack of research we run into is partially a result of our methods, really. I only look at shed scales, as does Jessie. You’re just insane, and Sunny is trying to start a new branch of research all on their own based on records from the dragon riders’ action in the war.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Charlie says, and they all laugh at that.

Silence falls over the group as they let the warmth—and caffeine—of their drinks sink into their bloodstreams. Charlie glances at the letter off to the side, which he’d been using as a bookmark in a four-hundred-page book on how dragons have motivated spell development.

Pressing his lips together, Charlie considers it, and then surveys his friends and fellow students. Technically, they’re not formally recognised as students as they work on the sanctuary and get paid for it, but the research they do is a requirement to be recognised as having the academic requirements to work with dragons and, considering their workload on the sanctuary, Charlie bets that they’ll all get the title dragon tamer/worker or something too.

“You staring at the note like it hurt you personally for a reason, Char?”

Jessie’s voice has Charlie blinking and shaking his head. He really did drift away in his thoughts for a second. “I was wondering whether we would all like a break,” he says, “complete with a dragon hatchling and some adrenaline and maybe some minor illegal activities. Y’know, just for some fun.”

“Count me in,” Taylor says, with approximately zero hesitation—and it’s times like this that Taylor’s criminal record makes sense.

Somewhat more reasonable, Jessie says, “Can I ask for a bit more information?”

Charlie tosses the note in zir direction, only for the note to drift aimlessly down to the ground because—unsurprisingly—paper isn’t that good to throw when it’s not crumbled up into a ball. Pulling a face at it, Charlie says, “Well, one of my old teachers might have gotten a dragon illegally, and it might be a very dangerous breed, and he’s maybe keeping it in a wooden hut. Not fireproof, mind you. My youngest brother—Ron—found out and he and his friends think it would be best if the dragon was no longer where the dragon currently is.”

Jessie blinks once at his explanation, and then says, “Yeah, sure I’m in. Sunny?”

“Hm?” Sunny looks up at the call of her name. “Oh, I’m down. Sorry, didn’t think I needed to verbalise it. Tomorrow night, then?”

“Sure,” Charlie says with a shrug, rather nonplussed at how quickly it’s all coming together. His friends, after all, are insanely intelligent for all that they grumble over their thesis topics and research and the number of hours they spend on crying as opposed to actual writing.

So, really, there’s nothing else Charlie can say except, “I’ll bring the coffee.”

Additional notes:

Love how this kinda became crack

Sunny is trans (amab) and goes by Sunil, technically, but prefers Sunny by all

All of them are queer to varying degrees, which is just on point

Please don't ask me how any of the thesis work or how the whole academic requirements work because I will either not remember any thoughts I had while writing this or I will go off on a tangent (this is a joke, feel free to ask)

Yes I am scared of the fact I have to write a thesis for my degree, next question

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed! I will likely upload this to AO3 when I locate a brain cell to edit and I'm not yawning so much lol.

[goatinacoat19]

Explanation of my fanfics

I also have a lot of fanfic stories. Some of these I have started posting on AO3 (I just go by GoatinaCoat over there) and all of them are basically me sticking ocs into these universes and making shenanigans happen.

These are just all my long running fics I have planned. I do some shorter stuff which I won’t be counting on this list.

Grimm: New Blood: This is a Grimm sequel fic which follows the kids of the main cast as well as some ocs. It mainly follows Kelly and Hazel (one of the triplets) as detectives who like Nick and Hank before them have to solve wesen related cases. Old enemies are stirring though, looking for vengeance.

Was it all worth it?: A Star Wars oc fic. It follows Ceran Ormara from his life as a padawan through the Clone Wars and during the time of the Empire.

The Stars are Home: A Star Trek fic which starts by following Seren and Akoli, a half vulcan and klingon, during the 27th Century. The pair become unlikely friends and it follows their lives, through the joy and pain.

Hopes and Dreams au: My take on the characters of DC. It’s a combination of a lot of different canons, and some of my own ideas.

Bats of Gotham: The Batman story of the Hopes and Dreams au. Part 1 follows Bruce as he adopts Dick Grayson and while figuring out how to be a father, he has to figure out the identity of the villain known as Scarecrow.

Legendary Ties: A pokemon au story where it’s revealed certain people are connected to legendary pokemon which is why they are able to save the world. Cody is a pokemon ranger who at one time helped defeat Team Plasma, but his life takes a turn when Team Fable comes after him and the others connected to the Legendary pokemon.

Unamed Digimon story: Milly only trusts 2 people: her dad and her partner digimon, Dorumon. When the fact she’s a tamer gets revealed, she begrudgingly ends up working with Ray and Alex and their partner digimon Fanbeemon and Liollmon.

Unamed Spidersona story: Sawyer is the vigilante known as Orange Spider. They actually study arachnids, specialising in scorpions (yes they are annoyed they got spider powers) and while not working in a lab they patrol the streets of New York. They are trying to figure out the cause of the fire that killed their grandfather, while making sure no one has to suffer like they did.

[spiderlilyserendipity]

Deserve (KSJ x reader) 🔞

Genres: angst, smut, & fluff

Tags: brat tamer ksj, brat!reader, dom/sub elements (obv LMAO), references to cheating (no actual cheating by jin or oc dw), spanking, fingering, established relationship, possessive sex, unsafe sex (be safe irl y’all), insecurity, mentioned breeding kink, mentioned hand kink, sexting, jealousy, aftercare (always important!), lots of hickeys, whooo this one is wild

Warnings: ksj uses some mean language in this fic (slut, bitch, etc.)

WC: 3835

Reminder: 18+ ONLY

You grin to yourself at the sight of Seokjin readjusting his pants to hide his erection. The camera is angled low enough that no one notices, especially with the winter coat on top of his clothes, but Seokjin is embarrassed, you can read him well.

You love the sight of his large member tenting in his pants, even more so when it’s because of your actions.

You stopped by the set today to surprise him with dinner after a long shoot, but then you got jealous.

You and Seokjin haven’t seen each other in a few weeks due to his work, and he hasn’t been picking up your calls lately. You decided to put up with that, since it hasn’t even been a year of dating yet. Most people don’t call ten month long relationships “serious”. But when you were waiting on him to finish work, you saw Seokjin’s fans talking about his newest interview on Twitter.

Seokjin has such good chemistry with her! One fan commented.

Yeah he totally does 😍😍 I wonder if they’re dating on the DL HAHAHA. Another added.

That makes sense actually! I hear she also majored in acting, and at Seokjin’s college, too!

You watched the interview and you agreed, he had been too friendly with her. You know it’s all work, as an actor Seokjin has to be charming and suave. It’s the only way he can convince the audience he is deserving of the roles he plays. But something bothers you about the way they interact. It almost feels real.

Out of jealousy, you go to the bathroom and take a picture of yourself topless and send it to Seokjin. You pinch a bit of your skin until it reddens, making it look like a hickey. Then you do it again, in another place. They’re hard enough pinches to start to bruise, and you bet they’ll be deep purple in a couple hours. You caption the picture as if you don’t hurry, I’ll go back to him soon.

There is no ‘him’ of course. You’re exclusive to Seokjin, both romantically and sexually. But hey, you can’t be the only one that’s a little jealous.

You leave the dinner you packed for Seokjin in his dressing room and leave just in time to see him open the text out of anyone else’s sight (as he opens all your texts to prevent people finding out about your relationship).

You turn around and happily skip back to your car. Seokjin can be the frustrated one now, you’ve had it.

When Seokjin comes home, it’s nearing midnight. The shoot went on another 3 hours after you left, 3 painstaking hours you laid in bed and pretended to sleep.

Seokjin knows it, too.

“Covers off.” He says instead of hello, not even turning the lights on. When you stay still, he shuts the bedroom door and locks it even though you’re home alone in his apartment. You don’t usually use the house key he gave you since you always felt it was a bit early for you to even have one, but Seokjin had insisted on giving one to you (although oddly he never demanded one to your house in return). But tonight, you’re not shirking away from any sort of commitment. You don’t care what Seokjin thinks of you using his house key and waiting in his bed, if it looks clingy. You’re clearly not that important to him anyway.

The only light Seokjin turns on is a small bedside lamp he only keeps on when you have sex, to be able to read your facial expressions even when you’re tied up or blind folded.

Seokjin pulls the covers off you, leaving you cold. “Y/N. I’m here. Quit pretending to be asleep. If you want to come tonight, show some fucking respect.” He snaps, shaking your shoulder. You open your eyes and glare up at him. Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Get on your knees.” He orders.

You do so. You’re dressed in only a pair of black lace panties and one of his oversized long sleeve shirts. You showered and shaved for tonight, and you’re sure he can smell his own body wash on you. But you’re not anywhere close to behaving yet, and you stare ahead. Seokjin tugs down the collar of your shirt to reveal your collarbone and the top of your chest where there are two bruises that look uncannily like hickeys.

At your unusual silence, Seokjin stops to check on you. “Colour.” He states rather than asks.

“Green.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue in disapproval at you. His temper is worse with you today. You have obviously pushed him further than he has ever gone tonight with your picture. “Look me in the eye when you tell me your colour. Have I not trained you well?”

You look him in the eye, anger flashing on your face. “No, you haven’t.”

Seokjin tightens his jaw. A muscle quivers in his cheek as he does it. “Is that the right way to ask sir to fuck you, princess?” He asks in a threateningly calm voice. His voice is just above a whisper and sends a chill down your spine.

You know what you’re asking for though. You both do. You smirk up at him. “Green.”

Seokjin sits at the edge of the bed. “Over my lap this instant.” He tells you. When you continue to glare, he smirks. “You know it’s been a month since we did this. I won’t fuck you for another month if you push me any further. Write down the fucking date if you want to, Y/N.”

Knowing Seokjin always keeps his promises, you quietly bend over his lap. You can deal with being spanked or even edged until you’re crying, but being deprived of Seokjin’s touch altogether is the worst and you both know it.

Seokjin chuckles, tugging his shirt up and over your ass. He begins to knead your ass between his hands roughly, making you whine. “Who asked you to stop by the set today?”

“No one.” You answer.

Seokjin slaps your ass hard. “Does this look like a regular conversation to you? Use your manners.”

“No one, sir. I stopped by because I wanted to.” You correct, already breathless. Seokjin’s first few hits are usually lighter, but he doesn’t have that kind of patience with you tonight. He gives you the kind of smacks he saves for the end right at the start.

Seokjin scoffs, continuing to knead at the same part he just hit. You wriggle in his lap at the touch, making him laugh at you. “Are you that sensitive because I haven’t fucked you in so long? Or is it because your new dom is too soft on you?”

Another hit to the opposite cheek when you take too long to answer. “Do you want to go another month without coming?” Seokjin growls in your ear.

“N-No, sir.” You answer.

Seokjin scoffs at your answer. “Sir, my ass. If you had any respect for me you wouldn’t cheat. I bet you act all coy with him because he doesn’t know you like I do. I bet he thinks you’re some soft little sub that can only be fucked in missionary position. But he doesn’t know you’re a disobedient bitch, does he, Y/N?”

Two more hard smacks, followed immediately by him kneading your ass. “N-No, sir.” You reply breathlessly. Seokjin didn’t give you a number of hits tonight, which means he is going to punish you until you’re crying. Those nights always left you sore the next day, but tonight you feel sore already. Even just sitting tomorrow will be an achievement, forget walking.

“What do you even like about him?” Seokjin asks in a cold voice. “Is he your ideal ‘type’ or some bullshit?”

You close your eyes, envisioning your ideal man. Tall and muscular. Large biceps but a small waist. Cute dimples and round cheeks and shiny eyes when he smiles. Long fingers with rounded nails that look beautiful adorned with jewellery, but the most beautiful when wrapped around your hips, your neck, and especially when inside your––

Four hard smacks in succession, two to each ass cheek. “I asked you a fucking question, didn’t I?” Seokjin asks coldly. When you tremble under him, he pauses. “Colour.”

You sniffle, brushing tears away. “Green.”

“You already took eight. You don’t have to take anymore if you don’t want to, you know that.” Seokjin reminds you, no longer angry. He actually sounds a bit guilty. He gently rubs over your ass, making you wince. “Sorry. I did too much this time, right?” He whispers, now rubbing your lower back in apology.

“I want more.” You tell him through your tears. You turn your head so you can look him in the eye. “I want as much as sir thinks I deserve.”

Seokjin considers it for a moment. Then, he chuckles. “There’s my girl.” He says softly, even though there’s nothing soft about how his hands come down on your ass.

He gives you four more, two to each ass cheek. By the time he’s done, you’re sobbing. It burns, it really does. But you like it like this, like being all his. Even if he’s smiling at some other woman while he’s working or even dating her, you like being just his in this moment. And because you’ve made him jealous too, Seokjin will definitely remind you of that fact tonight. Even if he doesn’t really believe it anymore.

Seokjin manhandles you onto the bed, making you lay down against his pillow. You hiss in pain but Seokjin is quick to kiss you. He does a great job of distracting you, kissing you deep and making you moan in his mouth. He only breaks away from the kiss to unbutton the shirt you’re wearing.

“So fucking dirty. Letting some asshole get his hands on what’s mine all because I left you alone for a few weeks.” Seokjin curses, pushing you further into the mattress as he lays on top of you. You gasp as he sucks hard hickeys on your neck, your collarbones, and the top of your chest. Seokjin takes special care to cover the two bruises you made with larger ones, pinning you down by the waist as you wriggle against him.

“S-Sir.” You whimper, but Seokjin keeps going lower. He even leaves hickeys on your breasts and on your ribcage, refusing to leave you unmarked anywhere. You’re sure you will have over a dozen on you tomorrow morning.

When he’s satisfied, Seokjin returns to your breasts. He is all tongue and teeth as he sucks at them until they’re both hard. You whine as he pinches them both hard afterwards. “You let some other guy do this to you? When only I can fucking work you up like this?” Seokjin demands, anger returning to his voice. He clamps one hand over your throat, not hard enough to block your breathing but enough to make your head spin. “Answer me, Y/N. Right fucking now.”

“S-Sorry, sir.” You answer, not really sure what you’re sorry for. You haven’t cheated on him, but his reaction makes you more sorry than if you had. You hadn’t known Seokjin could look at you with that kind of fire in his eyes. It’s different from other scenes, where Seokjin was turned on but carefully in control. Tonight, Seokjin is angry. But under it, there’s another emotion that shines just as brightly. Hurt. Seokjin is hurt by what he thinks you did.

Seokjin takes his hand off you. “You’re not sorry yet, princess. But you will be.” He warns.

Seokjin sinks lower, pressing kisses to your pubic bone and lower. He pulls your panties down and discards them. Then, Seokjin starts making new hickeys on the insides of your thighs without breaking eye contact.

When Seokjin finally pushes his middle finger into you, you’re half out of your mind and so wet it makes the insides of your thighs glisten. “Did he do this to you, princess?” Seokjin asks you, stretching you easily.

You shake your head, pushing your hips to get him to touch that spot. Seokjin grips your hip with one hand, nails digging into the skin as he holds you in place. The pain is what reminds you that he asked a question. “No! No one can do this to me.” You answer honestly, panting from the force of not coming. It would be so embarrassing to come from being fingered a little, and knowing Seokjin’s mood, he might not let you come the rest of the night if you come without permission.

Seokjin re-enters, two fingers this time. When you moan, he kisses one of the hickeys he made to cover your bruise. “That’s what I thought.” He says in a sing-song voice, mocking you. You grip his shoulders, grateful that Seokjin hadn’t tied you up as part of punishment. You dig your nails into the strong skin there, feeling him tense at how hard you do it. You don’t mean it as pay back or anything for him gripping your hip, you’re truly just that worked up tonight. But no matter his anger, Seokjin always checks on you. “Colour.”

“Green, green. Oh fuck Seokjin. Please can I come, please, please?” You beg, tipping your head back as tears roll out of them. As you clench around his fingers, Seokjin just chuckles and scissors you.

A few pumps later, he adds a third finger. “Do you think you deserve to come tonight?” He mocks you. “Look at how tight you are, I don’t even think you can take my cock tonight. That’s what happens when you fuck someone that isn’t as good as me, I guess.” Seokjin mocks you, rubbing his thumb against your clit to rile you up more.

“Ugh, I said I’m s-sorry! Sir, please.” You wriggle.

Seokjin smirks down at you. “You said it yourself, princess. ‘As much as sir thinks I deserve.’ And I think you deserve to be reminded who you fucking belong to, not to come. But if you beg really well, I might come in you. I bet you’d love to be bred by me after so long, stuffed full of my come like a dumb little slut.” Seokjin slows down, tightening his jaw again. “That is if it’s even special to you anymore. Assuming you don’t let him come in you too, of fucking course.” Seokjin punctuates each word with a hard thrust that has you scrambling for purchase on the bed sheets.

“I don’t, sir! I don’t! No one has except you.” You tell him. It’s true. You have been on birth control for years, but have never done it raw with any man until you met Seokjin. You had always been too afraid in case you missed your pill a day and wound up pregnant. But Seokjin had made you feel safer than any ex-boyfriend of yours had. Only a few months into dating, Seokjin made you feel safe enough to let him go raw, and never made you regret it. Hell, he even picked up your prescription for you when you worked late.

Seokjin’s fingers slip out of you. He pushes a stray hair back from your face, making you shiver as he gets some pre-come on your forehead. “And why’s that, princess?”

“I belong to you. I’m yours.”

You jolt in surprise as you feel the head of Seokjin’s cock press against your entrance. You grip his wide shoulders as he eases into you, but Seokjin pulls your hands off. He pins you down against the mattress, a hand to each wrist. “Correct.” He replies, before starting to move.

You can’t help the moans that fall from your lips with each of his movements. They’re not loud, actually the opposite. Seokjin’s punishment and teasing tired you out, so you can only let out soft moans and whines now. Seokjin pins you down, eyes pitch black and piercing in the dim light. There are no words needed for what Seokjin is doing right now. He’s trying to prove himself to you.

That only makes you feel more guilty. Even a simple nude while he was working would’ve riled Seokjin up, why did you have to make him think you cheated? In hindsight, you hadn’t been thinking straight. “I-I’m sorry.” You whisper as you look at Seokjin.

Seokjin looks away from you and down at your chest, at the darkening spots on your body. “Shut up.” He whispers back. His grip tightens on your wrists and he picks up the pace.

You’re getting close and you know Seokjin is, too. “S-Sir. Please.” You beg.

Seokjin pulls your arms up, taking both of your wrists in one hand and holding them away. You arch your back as the head of his cock rubs against your g-spot. “Sir!” You cry out. When Seokjin’s hips start to stutter, you finally lose your patience. “Fuck, Seokjin!”

Seokjin lets go of your wrists. One hand comes to grip your thigh hard, pushing it as far out as it can go. The other comes to rub at your clit. His pace picks up again, filling you up in a way that feels entirely different this time.

When you come, it feels like a flood of emotion. You tremble and clench around Seokjin, moaning his name and crying. When Seokjin comes, it’s with a deep moan and his fingernails digging into your skin, sure to leave marks tomorrow morning. You both know it, but you’re not upset at all. You have always liked the reminder that you’re his and only his.

Seokjin collapses on top of you as you both come down from your high. Seokjin pushes his bangs back from his forehead, wiping at the sweat on his face with one hand. He doesn’t look you in the eye. You try to kiss him, but he pulls away. He sits up, pulling out of you. Seokjin grabs tissues off the nightstand and wipes himself and you down gently.

“You can use the shower in the guest bedroom.” Seokjin says.

You grab his hand before he can go. “Why can’t I use your shower? We’ve showered together before.”

Seokjin pulls his hand away. “That was before you cheated on me, Y/N. I know we fucked tonight, but this is it. I’m not your boyfriend after tonight.”

Your heart sinks. “Seokjin. I didn’t actually cheat on you.”

That makes Seokjin look at you, eyes still dark but now sad. “Don’t lie to me now, Y/N. You told me clearly in your text that another guy made hickeys on you and that you were going to go back to him.”

You shake your head, taking his hands in yours. “I actually pinched myself. I only meant to make it look real and tease you, but I went too far. I’m sorry baby. I really am.”

Seokjin looks at you like he can’t believe his own ears. “You gave yourself bruises that look like hickeys just to make me mad?”

When you nod and look honest, Seokjin pulls you close. “Why?”

“I watched your newest interview.” You say.

A long moment passes and then Seokjin seems to get what you’re saying. “Were you jealous of me interacting with her?” Seokjin asks, surprised. When you pout he starts to laugh. He tips his head back and closes his eyes at how funny it is to him but it’s not funny to you. When you smack his chest lightly, he looks at you with a fond smile. He brushes your hair behind your ear. “Say it. Were you jealous?”

You bite your lip. Seokjin notices immediately you’re not finding this funny and grows serious. You look away from him. “I was jealous. But I was also insecure.”

“Insecure?” Seokjin repeats the word. “Why?”

You play with his hands. “Don’t know.” You mumble.

Seokjin cups your face and makes you look at him. “Be honest.” He tells you. “You know I like it when you’re honest the most, right?”

You chew your bottom lip. “I...I saw some stuff on Twitter. They said you two looked like a couple. And to be honest, you were kinda too friendly with her.”

Seokjin looks sad. “And that’s why you teased me? Even though you knew I’d think you were just playing and punish you?” You nod. Seokjin’s brows knit together. He pulls you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry baby. I should’ve thought more.”

You shake your head, but tears fall on Seokjin’s shoulder anyway. “I liked it. I always like it when we have sex like that. But I also wanted your attention.”

“You always have my attention.” Seokjin pulls back, cupping your face again. His eyes are wide and genuine. You love that the most about Seokjin; even though he’s an actor, he’s never lied to you. “Let’s take a shower.”

So you do. The two of you get in the shower together. Seokjin washes your chest and between your thighs for you, gentle as he touches the hickeys he made. You wash his back for him and his hair, giving him little kisses every now and then. You grab a spare pair of panties you left at his house and another one of his shirts.

When you get in bed, Seokjin turns you onto your back and applies lotion onto your ass. You wince at the burn of lotion on your sore spots. “Sorry baby. I got really angry thinking about you sleeping with someone else and lost my control.” Seokjin apologizes for the 1000th time.

“It’s okay. I wanted this.” You reply to him for the 1000th time. But still, Seokjin is really gentle with you.

“I only want you, okay?” You tell him when you lay on top of his chest later. “Even though I know after tonight, I don’t deserve you.”

Seokjin kisses your forehead. “Don’t ever say that baby. Of course you deserve me.”

You make yourself comfortable against him and he tucks the blankets in around both of you. “Do I?”

Seokjin rubs your back. “Someone like you deserves the best, Y/N. And naturally, that’s me, Kim Seokjin.” He ends jokingly.

You scoff but kiss his cheek anyway. “That’s true. My boyfriend is the best.”

Seokjin smiles at you lovingly. “I love you.”

Your eyes widen. Seokjin’s eyes widen too. “Shit. I mean, no. Well, no, I mean yes.” Seokjin stammers, ears turning pink. “Sorry, this is too quick right? Fuck, we haven’t even dated a year but I already said that.”

“I love you too.” You reply, feeling yourself blush too. It’s so odd how you’ve been entirely naked before him before but you feel more vulnerable now.

You and Seokjin smile at each other. “I must’ve saved the country in my past life to deserve you.” You whisper.

“That’s my line, baby.” Seokjin teases, kissing your lips sweetly. You melt into him, safe and comfortable. This is home.

[hachichimitsu2]

ABOUT ME

Hachi ✨ 20 ✨ She/Her ✨ 🇵🇭 ✨ INFJ 6w5

Hello, I’m Hachi! I'm a full-time freelance illustrator on Fiverr, and I hopefully plan to branch out in other artistic areas in my life! Expect me to dump all of my artistic interests over here : #hachichiart

I also have a children’s picture e-book that I self-published on Amazon. I made it as a requirement for my high school thesis, so while the art there is definitely a representation of my past, I still stand by the message I was trying to send. I hope to eventually branch out this series in a form of a webcomic of sorts, for people who can’t afford to purchase my e-book for financial reasons. These characters are extremely dear to me, and I can’t wait to expound on them when I have the time lmao. Here’s a tag regarding the series: #behindtheartistichand

Some note-worthy things to mention, this blog is generally 15+, but I do make sure to tag any NSFW content and general triggers out there. I often post and retweet adult animation, so I’d say tread carefully if you’re a minor. I’m also critical with the media I consume, but most of the time, I like to talk about why I like something rather than why I hate it. I just find it more fun to expound on the positives of my favorite things. I also don’t take everything seriously.

Please let me know privately if I did or say anything wrong. Sometimes I say things without meaning to, and I’m not the brightest crayon in the box, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. If you take offense with anything I posted, just send a polite DM and explain why it offended you so I can be educated regarding the subject. I’m also available for any questions, DMs and a genuine chit-chat.

MAIN INTERESTS

1. Character-Driven Storytelling

2. Adult Cartoons

3. CGDCT / Slice-of-Life Shows

4. Pastel Goth / Creepy Cute Fashion

5. Coming-of-Age Stories

6. Magical Girls

7. Psychological Horror

8. Well-Written Children’s Media

9. RPG Maker Horror Games

10. Video Essays & Film Studies

11. Speed Metal / Vaporwave / Shibuya-Kei

12. K-POP / J-POP Girl Groups (Serotonin Babey!)

13. 4LT (MBTI), Typology, Cognitive Functions

14. All Types of Artistic Endeavors (OCs, FanArt, Comics, Film, Music, Fanfiction, etc.)

TOP 5 ANIME SERIES (IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER)

1. K-ON!!

2. Hunter x Hunter

3. Neon Genesis Evangelion

4. Ojamajo Doremi

5. Ouran Highschool Host Club.

TOP 5 CARTOON SERIES (IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER)

1. South Park

2. Bojack Horseman

3. Moral Orel

4. Ed, Edd n Eddy

5. Infinity Train

FAVORITE MOVIES

1. Interstellar (Favorite Sci-Fi Movie of All Time)

2. Nacho Libre (Favorite Guilty Pleasure Movie)

3. Johnny Got His Gun (Scariest movie of all time due to the sheer existential dread)

4. Studio Ghibli Films (Particularly Ponyo, My Neighbor Totoro & Grave of the Fireflies)

5. Perfect Blue (Favorite Anime Movie)

6. One Cut of the Dead (It’s hard to recommend this movie without spoiling it, but it’s an absolute must that you finish it in its entirety before you proceed to make any further judgments)

7. Coraline (I know almost everyone loves Coraline at this point, but it’s genuinely good.)

8. Interview with the Vampire (Favorite Vampire movie of all time that doesn’t seem overdone or cliché. It’s also really gay)

9. Get Out (2017)

10. Us (2019)

11. Up (2009)

12. Toy Story (Movies 1 to 3)

13. Hereditary (2018)

14. The Shining (1980)

15. Audition (1999)

16. Misery (1990)

17. The Green Mile (1999)

18. Shawshank Redemption (1994)

19. Saving Private Ryan (1998)

20. Mommie Dearest (1981)

21. The Others (2001)

22. The Platform (2020)

23. The Lodge (2019)

OTHERS

1. Homestuck (It’s been a good while since I read Homestuck, so my memory of the general storyline is fuzzy. I’ll re-read it once I have the chance)

2. When They Cry (Currently up-to date with the Higurashi anime and watched the live-action movies. Finally started to tackle the sound novels. Have yet to encounter Umineko and Ciconia)

3. Age of Youth (Favorite K-drama of all time.)

4. Squid Game (Battle Royale-type thriller series that tackles capitalism and the illusion of choice and free will? Sign me the fuck up)

5. Majisuka Gakuen (Favorite J-drama of all time. Also, yes, I’m biased because of my love for AKB48.)

6. Flight of the Conchords (Favorite live-action series of all time.)

7. Adult Cartoons (The Boondocks, Camp Camp, Superjail, The Oblongs, Bob’s Burgers, The Simpsons, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Home Movies, Beavis & Butthead, Daria, Smiling Friends, Aggretsuko)

8. FilmCow (I absolutely love everything they put out. Currently up to date with VuloLives’s broadcasts)

9. The Eric Andre Show (A good friend recommended me this show, and I haven’t stopped since.)

10. Nathan for You (My humor condensed into one show)

11. CGDCT / Slice-of-Life Shows (Sweetness & Lightning, The Amazing World of Gumball, Spongebob Squarepants, Gakkou Gurashi, Lucky Star, Gakuen Utopia Manabi Straight, Koufuku Graffiti, Hidamari Sketch, Pita-Ten, A Little Snow Fairy Sugar, Di Gi Charat, Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid, Yama no Susume, Shirobako, Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei, Saint Young Men, Gunslinger Girl, Kareshi Kanojo no Jijou, Osomatsu-san, Hey Arnold, The Peanuts, Arthur, Hibike! Euphonium, Nichijou, Asobi Asobase, Azumanga Daioh, Codename: Kids Next Door, Chowder)

12. Idol Anime (Love Live! School Idol Project, Aikatsu, Revue Starlight, Full Moon wo Sagashite, Pretty Rhythm, AKB600SEC // Will get into IDOLMASTER eventually)

13. Undertale (Will pick up Earthbound and Omori eventually)

14. RPGMaker Horror Games (Mad Father, Misao, The Witch’s House, Ao Oni, etc. Hoping to get into newer released games!)

15. Fictional Children / Adolescents Getting Trapped in Dangerous Scenarios (Digimon Tamers, Made in Abyss, The Promised Neverland, Alice Academy, Code Lyoko, The World Ends with You, Total Drama Island, Danganronpa)

16. Weird, Experimental or Slightly Disturbing Series (Serial Experiments Lain, Kuchuu Buranko, Invader Zim, Flapjack, Salad Fingers)

17. Shounen Anime (Yu Yu Hakusho, Mob Psycho 100, Dragon Ball Z)

18. Magical Girl Anime (Sailor Moon, Cardcaptor Sakura, Tokyo Mew Mew, Mermaid Melody, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, RWBY, Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt, My Little Pony, Princess Tutu, Powerpuff Girls, My Life As A Teenage Robot, Bee and Puppycat, Star vs. The Forces of Evil, Steven Universe // Will pick up She-Ra & The Owl House Eventually)

19. The Haunting of Hill House / Bly Manor (Don’t let the jump-scares deceive you. It’s a genuinely good character-driven horror series)

20. Sci-Fi Cartoons (Rick & Morty, Solar Opposites, Futurama, Bravest Warriors)

ROLE MODELS / BIASES / OSHIMENS / BEST GIRLS

1. Trey Parker & Matt Stone

2. Gain & Narsha (BROWN EYED GIRLS)

3. Hyuna (SOLOIST)

4. Sooyoung (SNSD)

5. Gyuri (KARA)

6. Hani (EXID)

7. Seulgi & Yeri (RED VELVET)

8. Sana (TWICE)

9. Yves & Olivia Hye (LOONA)

10. Shuhua (G-IDLE)

11. Yena (IZ*ONE)

12. Winter (AESPA)

13. SUZUKA (ATARASHII GAKKOU)

14. Shiroma Miru (NMB48)

15. Yabuki Nako (HKT48)

16. Takahashi Minami (ex-AKB48)

17. Kojima Haruna (ex-AKB48)

18. Shinoda Mariko (ex-AKB48)

19. Sayaka Akimoto (ex-AKB48)

20. Watanabe Mayu (ex-AKB48)

21. Shimazaki Haruka (ex-AKB48)

22. Matsui Jurina (ex-SKE48)

23. Sakura Miko (HOLOLIVE)

24. Natsuiro Matsuri (HOLOLIVE)

25. Oozora Subaru (HOLOLIVE)

26. Inugami Korone (HOLOLIVE)

27. Houshou Marine (HOLOLIVE)

28. Kiryu Coco (ex-HOLOLIVE)

29. Momosuzu Nene (HOLOLIVE)

30. Kureiji Ollie (HOLOLIVE)

31. Takanashi Kiara (HOLOLIVE)

32. VuloLives (INDEPENDENT VTUBER)

CONTACTS

• Instagram: @Hachichimitsu

• Twitter: @Hachichimitsu

• I take art commissions on Fiverr: https://www.fiverr.com/hachichimitsu

• I have a children’s e-book on Amazon. Make sure to download the Amazon Kindle app to be able to read it on your smart device: https://www.amazon.com/Behind-Artistic-Erika-Marie-Vargas-ebook/dp/B08789CW3V

[tamersonas]

Will there be a tamersona week for 2021? I participated in the last one and really enjoyed it!

Yes! And this is a horribly late reply, I am very sorry about that. I do owe an explanation so here's the issue on why it's later than last year

Also please note you are more than welcome to @/ me on my main ( @elecmon ) if you'd like a speedier response in the future!

The personal life excuses on why Tamersonaweek is late this year:

Much like everyone else, I had a series of unfortunate events during 2020 where I Lost a tooth (still in the process of trying to get the replacement, a whole year later.) Had my identity stolen and a theft committed in my name, got diagnosed with beginning stages of Skin C*ncer, began a series of 6 removal procedure surgeries which led to my arms being all but useless for a few months unable to draw, became bed ridden for a few days with severe back/neck pain that nearly caused me to black out a few times, caught Covid and was bedridden for half a month again, work kept closing/re-opening, lost my promotion and higher pay at work, applied to two different jobs (both of which lasted less than a month), had a fender bender that has currently dipped into the last bit of savings I had left to pay for the remainder surgery bills (not having insurance is hell) and this was just July-Decsmber, it's been, stressful to say the least.

The Tamersonaweek related excuses on why Tamersonaweek is late this year:

Coming up with a new theme is Hard. Not on the surface level but there were three things I had to consider at all times that made it a bit difficult to set anything down in stone;

A. If I do the same questions as last time, it will be boring and alienate the people who have participated who won't want to re-say the same things.

B. If I Don't do the same questions as last time, it will alienate people who are new that Want to talk about their self-insert/partner/their story/etc

C. People are usually burned out when it comes to July because of Art fight + getting ready for Odaiba Day. The timing of it last year, even though it Was decided on by popular vote, still wasn't objectively the Best. But every other time slot that would be fun/semi significant was either taken or [insert life problem here] happened and it became fully difficult once again.

BUT, after talking it over with a friend and spending about 3 days brainstorming we have come up with something that we Hope will be fun for you guys!

I'm currently working on making a little info sheet on the event/details/prompts (and then will have to convert it to a Twitter-friendly post)

BUT I feel like it's okay to share the theme and planned dates

September 16th-September 22nd

Choose your own Camp Adventure!

Each day will have a scenario linked to a random number generator with possible outcomes based on your 1-10 results

For Example Day 3 will be:

"Second day at Camp and you heard a noise coming from the abandoned cabin, what do you do?!"

1-2: "Nope not interested bye!"

3-4: "Oh it's my old friend _______!" (OCs/canon characters are welcome!)

5-6: "Oh SHIT ITS MY OLD ENEMY_______!" (OCs/canon characters are welcome!)

7-8 "Hey it's that other Tamer/Camper! Hi!"

9-10: "Forget checking! I'm going to IMMEDIATELY FIGHT IT!!!"

You are more than welcome to write/draw/talk about your own responses outside of the given prompts!

There is NO requirement to draw or write a fully detailed anything

The first Two days WILL be the same as last year's, where you can introduce yourself, and Then your Digimon partner!

-

Tamersonaweek has always been about showing off and appreciating yours and other people's self inserts, it's an event made in mind with everyone (hopefully) having fun which is why I would love to hear opinions on it/this format! Yes this wasn't an easy thing to work on, but good or bad I Would like to hear what people have to say on if this is a good direction to take Tamersonaweek in for future events!)

Any questions, comments, concerns, etc feel free to ask away!

[istorkyou]

A Gentle Nudge

Modern!Ivar x Female OC

This is for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie Hot Fic Summer Challenge. Congratulations love ❤️ ❤️❤️ I got ‘bathing suits’ as a prompt 😊

As always, big round of applause to @punkrocknpearls for beta reading 😘

Warning: Mentions of self harm.

Word Count: 707 (can’t believe I managed to not turn this into a multi chapter fic. Growth.)

Tag List: let me know if you want on or off :) @smears-and-spots -spots @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @synnersaint​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​ @serasvictoria​ @mimiiinspace​ @itsmysticalmystery​ @lonewolf471​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​ @draculasbride-blog​ @love-all-things-writing​ @southernbe​ @redhead7799​ @kaybee87​ @ivarlover​ @ivarhoegh​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​ @darkphoenix5037​ @profoundtyrantharmony​ @snarling-through-our-smiles @crazyunsexycool @xceafh @bragisrunes @noway4u

——————————-

Holidays are great, you’d happily admit that to anyone. But there was always one problem with holidays somewhere like this: getting your goddamn legs out poolside. This was the worry when you booked this particular holiday – you knew it would be – but another break in a place with a similar climate as your own country was just not going to cut it this time. This time, relaxation was needed, and you could see the leg issue very clearly in the future even when you clicked “complete booking” on the webpage. Now you’re here, you can already picture it. Immediately. The staring. The wondering. The grotesque fascination. It turns your stomach on a good day. On a bad day though, it just makes your blood boil.

“You have to wear a bathing suit, baby. It’s 95 degrees out.”

“I’ll just wear some light trousers.”

“We are going to be sitting around the pool all day. It’s sweltering, you will want to get the pool to cool off at some point, right?”

“That’s what air-conditioning is for.”

“Please, love. We don’t know anyone here, so it’s not like we will have to see them again after this week. If there’s any judgement about your legs, who gives a shit?”

Silence descends over the pair of you, an uncomfortable silence, clinging to your skins, making you both squirm at the sensation it brings. The distress is clear: it’s the worst subject to be talking about, but talk about it you must.

“I give a shit. I do! People always stare, kids point. There is nothing more humiliating than the awkward conversation a kid has with their grossed-out parent about my legs. The way people stare, then look away but keep looking back, like a fucking car crash you can’t look away from. I’m doing everyone a favour by keeping them covered up.”

“I get it, I see it, love. But we have to get you to a point where this doesn’t dictate your life anymore. I thought…I thought perhaps we could use this holiday as something like…something like a day-by-day therapy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, maybe today we could go to the pool and you could cover them with a towel, keep trousers handy for walking around? Next day, go from the sun-lounge to the pool. We can have a towel ready for when you get out so you can cover up quickly. Then see how it’s going from there and make a plan of action for the rest of the week. What do you say?”

Silence descends again, but this time it’s contemplative, a weighing up of the options available rather than shutting ideas down outright. It’s a start.

“You know I love you, every single part of you, right? Your legs are what they are, baby. I’m so fucking proud of you, you know that right? I know it’s taken such an immense amount of work to break the compulsion, to work on the triggers, and I know the scars are a physical reminder, but they aren’t going anywhere. Baby steps, hm? I will hold your hand with each of them.”

Ivar looks pointedly at the bathing suit and the cover up he bought for her lying on the bed. He knows she wouldn’t have brought one herself. “I’ve said it time and time again love,” he says wryly, “people will be looking at my legs way more than your gorgeous pins, I promise you.”

She looks at the suit. It’s beautiful, the sort she looks at online every year before her insecurities shut her down. He watches as she picks it up, drops her towel and wriggles it on, wraps the sarong around her waist and adjusts it so it covers what she considers to be the worst of the scarring, her hands shaking slightly.

“Okay, let’s do this…” She grimaces at him.

“That’s my girl!” he says enthusiastically, nudging her toward the door. “Now, I’ve packed your trousers and another towel just in case you feel like you need them, but I think you will be fine, baby.” The arm he threads around her shoulders squeezes lightly, as he presses his lips to her forehead.

“I’m so proud of you. Let’s do this, okay?”

FIN

[shibarirobot]

Aizawa fic - CH1 - Entrapment

+18 only

Shouta Aizawa x Villain!OC/Reader (?)

I’m going to do my best to keep this fic as ambiguous as possible so anyone can enjoy it. The first few chapters will be tamer to build intruig, but make no mistake this is going to get SPICY. It’s not exactly a reader insert, but I’m going to stay away from describing my lead character, apart from quirk abilities, to make it easy for those that enjoy a reader insert to lose themselves in this fic. 

That being said, this fic is centered around a villain who can manipulate electro magnetic frequencies, that’s pretty broad and I’m no science kid, but I’m fairly certain everything I have them do is plausable with this type of quirk, if you have any suggestions for how it could be used or if I have written something infactual to the ability feel free to message me or leave an anon. However, in a made up world of quirks and hot men, I’m not sure it really matters lol. Suspend your disbelief as they say. 

Anyways, enjoy.

~

Four o’clock rolls by so slowly I can feel myself aging. I look down at my watch for the fifth time in the last three minutes and let out a huff. 3:57. No time to start getting anxious. I push even the word anxiety out of my brain and take another deep breath, closing my eyes. Distancing myself mentally from the hum of drunken bar thoughts. This time trying to calm my slightly lifted heart rate as it now feels like time has sped up exponentially, I realize I have no time to take a smoke or even go to the bathroom. It’s about to happen. I look at my watch again and feel the lump in my throat drop to my stomach as I swallow my insecurities and pull my hand up to my hip, skimming my thigh as I go. I can feel this too, the weapon at my waistband that has been pressing hard against my skin and keeping my back rigid as I try to level my breathing. I make eye contact with a tall man across the room from me, already nursing a beer before 4 pm and for a brief moment the air is still, latent energy pooling around me as I suck in another breath and force myself onto my feet. I magnetize my voice and push it into their brains as the stagnant energy from before comes crashing down in waves around me. 

“Everybody on the floor! NOW!” I say it, but they feel it, they feel their brains being ripped in half by my voice. The splitting headache that I come to find familiar, comforting even, forced upon these self serving bystanders. The pulse behind my eyes reminds me I’m alive, if nothing more than in a physical sense I am still living. Ringing fills the air as I roar into them again, enjoying watching them all grip their temples and wobble as they start to lose their equilibrium. I’m effectively scrambling their brains and replacing what is left with my own force of will. “I… SAID… NOW!!!!” They drop to their knees, some flopping to the side, giving up fighting, they're all sheep. Fucking sheep that just do what they’re told. Fucking sheep that believe in heroes and laws, it’s all bullshit. Even these citizens know it, but they all fall in line anyways. Because it’s power that they obey. And right now, I have it. 

I lock eyes with the man from before and he tries to move to the door, still wobbly on his feet. I smirk a little at his attempt. There’s always one. Always a fool that tries to play hero. He wants to... what? Call for help? Prove he’s not weak? Make up for his otherwise lackluster life? I don't even try to stop him. He barely makes it two feet before the rest of my crew shows up, a power type goon pushing the hero wannabe to the ground in a matter of seconds, the other, deadbolting the door. He never stood a chance and I chuckle to myself, grinning wildly now. I hear a groan from the ground next to my foot and look down, a woman is curled up on her side, one hand grasping desperately at the side of her head, the other gripping the material at her stomach with white knuckles. Her lips are pale and there is a cold sweat dripping down the side of her forehead, tears gathering at the corners of her big doe eyes. She’s honestly quite beautiful and it makes the terror in her eyes that much more satisfying when she looks up at me and whimpers a small, desperate, “Please.”

I stare down at her for a moment and absorb the painting before me. Such raw emotion. True pain. I laugh again, whole heartedly as a chorus of groans erupt from my captive audience, my screeches drilling a hole in their skulls. They don't even know what pain is and they fold at the waist and buckle at the knees, this is just a taste and they can hardly stomach it. While I'm laughing, I wrench my leg back and kick the woman in the stomach. Hard. My boots are steel plated and weighted, 15 pounds each, so I know it hurts. “Stupid bitch! Haha!” She screams, coughs, then hurls. Vomit mixing into her hair. I kick her again then lean down and grab her by the jaw, rubbing hard circles into her cheek as I yank her forward by the neck. Her eyes had been closed, but they snapped open when I did that, the vomit in her hair making it stick to her face. “You look so pretty when you beg, shame it will get you nothing here.” Dropping her head back to the hard, tile floor as I rise, looking down on her in disgust. I spit on her cheek from above and survey the room, all eyes are on me. She starts crying and I kick her one last time for good measure, for her distraction. “Whore.” It falls from my lips and I almost feel bad, but then I don't. I don't feel bad for these people, she would have thought the same thing about me and smiled to my face, not knowing who I am, what I’m capable of. She would have been comfortable in doing so to know her thoughts were private. They wouldn’t have been. I would have heard her, as I’ve heard countless others. I shake my anger away in the moment, getting  back to business, now is not the time to let my emotions get the better of me. 

Everyone was hearing me before, but now that I’m focused my voice is poignant, rumbling in the back of everyone’s minds like distant thunder. Like the booming voice of god. In this moment, I might as well be god. “Enough theatrics. If anyone moves I will LIQUIFY your brains, got it?!” There’s a prickle of anxious realization in the room as they all come to terms with the fact that I can do it and have a clear disregard for any of their well being. “Good. Now be darling little hostages and lay there in agony while the big mean bad guys rob the place, ‘kay?” My voice had lost the murderous quality it once had as I start to talk to them how an owner would to a new puppy. Lovingly, but condescending. 

I now look back to my crew, all people I barely knew, hired hands to make my plan run smoothly, expendable, but crucial. I see they have sealed all exits and my muscle men are manning the door. Well, muscle people I should say. One is a hefty looking mutherfucker with steel brackets around his wrists and ankles. His muscles swell and retract like they're breathing, as if his muscle was an entirely different entity from his body. It’s mesmerizing and somewhat disturbing to watch. The other is a short, toned woman with a spiked, pink mohawk and a killer smile. Her teeth are sharp and platinum and she grins, chomping her jaw to herself. It makes a distinguishable ‘Clang Clang’ when her teeth lock into place with each other. 

Knowing they have the hostage situation handled, I make my way to the back of the bar. There is a door in the corner and I reach for the handle as I approach, but a wave of hesitation hits me as I do, something tells me to move away from the door. With a quick dodge, I leap backwards as the door explodes, a fist appearing at the center of the explosion. A hero. Dammit. I was hoping to get this over with before we had a chance for interference. I ‘tsk’ my tongue and toss a scowl over my shoulder. What’s the point of a hired lookout if they don’t even tell you when the ops are coming? When I look behind me I see my lookout, the only person I hired on a quirk specific level, toppled over with a dart in their neck. Fuck. They were supposed to see around corners in the getaway. My eyes scramble around the room to see where it came from but there’s no one, just a small crack in the window where I assume the dart broke through. Someone on the roof.

Frustration overtakes me and I scream up at the ceiling. What’s the point of planning if I have to do everything myself anyways? The scream ruptures into everyone’s thoughts. The civilians. The heroes. The other villains. They all feel my wrath. I stand and kick the hero that had just blasted through the door and my plans in one fell swoop. I've seen him on tv, he’s getting pretty famous, some new chump that can balloon his fists. He really thought a physical quirk could beat me? He grunts then goes slack, some hero. The ones that never get hit can never handle it when they eventually do. I step past his body and again past the debris of the door. There’s a small room back here with metal shelves on each wall and one in the middle forming three neat rows, pilled with bricks of gold, artifacts and a computer on a table in the back. There’s another hole in the wall across from the door, seems as if this loser busted through both walls just for a shitty sneak attack. Easy escape though. Rolling my eyes, I march past the gold and the shinies and dig a flash drive out of my pocket, shoving it into the USB port, it immediately starts glowing red. I kick the chair to the side and lean down, tapping the keys furiously as I transfer file after file to my drive and delete them from the computer's hard drive. When I’m done, I pull the drive from the port, not worrying about ejecting the drive. It will just have to deal. I straighten my jacket and brush the hair out of my face, leisurely strolling back to the hole in the wall. 

Something glints in the corner of my eye and my focus is shifted to a beautiful diamond necklace that has to be worth more money than I have ever seen in my entire life. I’m about to take another step when the urge to possess this object takes me over so abrasively I can't even think about ignoring it. My hand darts out to the necklace, making quick work of securing it around my neck. I slip a gold brick into my pocket as well, reveling in the thrill of theft. Unplanned theft that is. 

Now that I’m satisfied with myself, I continue my trek to the hole across where the door used to be, leading to the alley, ready to make my one person escape only to be confronted face to face with glowing red eyes, barred behind shuttered goggles. 

Thank you for reading my first chapter! I hope you have enjoyed it!

Maybe leave a like...? Just a thought XD

I will be updating this and adding it to AO3 as soon as I get an account (I’m on the waiting list). There will be a link availiable to my new AO3 and other content as soon as I have that ready. Thanks again! 

CH2

[malfoymanortings]

silver tongue //part one

SUMMARY: charlie weasley was never the type to fall in love. his main focus has always been dragons. by the time he realizes he’s in love, it may be too late.

PAIRINGS: charlie weasley X fem!OC

i have one more part planned for this story. it’s yet another one that just begged to be written. hopefully you all enjoy it!

“weasley!” luminita stormed over to the red haired boy, who looked up at her with a panic stricken gaze. “would you like to tell me why maria just informed everyone that you were taking an indefinite hiatus?”

charlie weasley gave a reassuring pat to the month old dragon he had been tending to, before crossing the few feet left between him and lumi. she roughly shoved his shoulders, her mouth twisted in a furious glare.

“lumi, if you’ll just listen to me-“

“listen to what?! what reason could you possibly give me that makes it okay that you’re leaving us!”

her chest was heaving, and although she stood a head shorter then the tall muscular boy before her, she stood rather intimidating in front of him. he held up his hands in surrender, backing down in a similar way they had to do with angry dragons.

“i have a reason, if you would just let me explain... come to mine after work, alright?”

luminita nodded firmly, turning on her heel and storming back off towards her section of dragons. charlie watched her for a moment, a smile breaking across his face. his heart swelled in adoration for the romanian firecracker that he had gotten the pleasure of knowing during his years as dragon training.

a shot of fire just barely missed his head. charlie turned to see his dragon staring at his with its wide ember eyes, nodding its head towards its breakfast.

“okay, okay,” charlie grabbed the bucket, walking back over towards the baby horntail. “say no more.”

luminita and charlie had met while training at the romanian academy for dragon tamers. she was immediately drawn to the stocky redhead, who was so thoroughly covered in freckles that he appeared tan. he had been drawn to the honey haired girl with a loud voice that reminded him of home. she was a boisterous and adventurous student, and he was an ambitious and knowledgeable one.

they had quickly found they were the perfect pair when studying dragons, and that translated to their work on the field. they along with a handful of others had quickly rose to the top of the romanian dragon tamers, and when the others gave charlie a hard time for being british, luminita was the first one to defend him. they always had each other’s back.

which was why his sudden call for hiatus stung her so badly. he hadn’t ever mentioned to her that he was going to be leaving, not even a hint. charlie weasley was a man of dragons, nothing more in his life brought him more to joy. luminita was well aware of that. so it made no sense as to why he was suddenly giving it all up. it infuriated her.

charlie had left his door unlocked after work, and was sitting in his sparse living room when luminita walked in. she had changed out of her work clothing, she now wore a flattering pair of jeans and a artfully torn sweater that exposed bits of her shoulder, chest, and torso. her hair was stilled pulled back in a messy bun.

he admired her beauty in silence. he suspected she harbored feelings for him, but he wasn’t sure he felt the same about her. besides, who had time for dating when there were so many dragons to be discovered? their work work was far too hands on to ever even entertain the idea of a relationship.

his other teammates always made fun of him for that. billius, a man ten years older than charlie who he counted as his second closest friend next to luminita, gave him a hard time about his values. ‘if a beauty like luminita were interested in me, i think i may abandon the dragons altogether if she asked me. but lumi would never ask that of you or want you to. why don’t you give it a try?’

charlie always had the same answer. ‘the dragons need my full attention.’

luminita had never explicitly expressed her interest in him either. it was through the way he was the first she sought out after a particularly rough rendezvous rescuing dragons from the black market, the way she always brought a lunch for him because he never bothered, the way she smiled at him like he was only person in the world, that gave her affections away.

“well?” luminita strode into the room, sitting on the edge of his worn thrifted couch. “what on earth is making you give up the dragons?”

charlie stood, rubbing a hand across his face. he began pacing in front of the fireplace, the flames glinting across the silver scars that covered his arms from his numerous burns. to his chagrin, luminita somehow never managed to get burned by the dragons. it was something he always gave her shit for.

“you obviously know my family is in britain.”

“no shit.”

“well, you know voldemort is growing his army again.”

luminita nodded solemnly. charlie had confided in her many times of his fears that his family would be hurt while he was in romania. but that had never prompted him to leave before. did that mean he was leaving now?

“my family is part of an organization to take down his army of death eaters. i’ve been asked to recruit foreign members, and that means i’ll be on voldemort’s hit list when word gets back to him.”

“so you’re leaving?”

“no, i’m staying in romania to recruit members for the order my family is part of. but i need to go into hiding, because i’ll be targeted by death eaters.”

luminita was quiet. when she spoke again, her voice was tense and firm.

“i guess you have your first recruitment then. where do i sign?”

charlie supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. luminita was a fighter. it was part of why he was so drawn to her. but the thought of luminita getting hurt flashed across his mind, the thought horrifying him. he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if she got hurt or worse, killed, because he recruited her for the order. in his mind, her death or injury would be his fault.

“luminita, do you understand what you’ll be doing? voldemort is dangerous, he’s awful, and being part of the order puts a target on your back for him and his ruthless followers.”

“charlie, have i ever told you what happened to my parents?”

charlie paused. he had been expecting her to fight back and maybe accuse him of not thinking she was strong enough, but he hadn’t expected her voice to be small and her face to look worn. she had never mentioned her parents before either, and he never thought to bring it up. he shook his head.

“my parents were very prominent political figures. they wanted our aurors to help in the fight against voldemort, and they were beginning to gather a group of willing participants. voldemort caught wind, and had them killed.”

she said the words as though she had recited them a thousand times, mechanical. yet it was the first charlie had ever heard her speak of them.

“i’m sorry.”

luminita waved off his condolences. “point is, i know the risk. i know how things can go. but i’m a damn good dueler, and a damn good fighter. voldemort needs to be dead.”

charlie nodded solemnly. the thought of her hurt or dead scared him, but he had known luminita long enough that he knew she wouldn’t stand aside once she was given the chance to fight. his girl was a fighter.

“well, there isn’t anything you need to sign,” charlie teased, stopping in front of her and looking down into her pale green eyes. “you’re in.”

luminita stared back at him, her expression softening as their eyes locked. charlie looked away, turning to continue his pacing in front of the fireplace. luminita watched him from her perch on the arm of his couch, her head tilted to the side.

“you’re worried about your family.” she said it as a statement, watching his movements.

charlie nodded. “course. i’m worried for them, and now that you’re in... i’m worried for you.”

luminita snorted, standing up and shaking her head. “thought you knew me better, weasley. i can hold my own.”

“doesn’t mean i like the thought of you fighting.”

“well, look at it this way. even if i do die, the dragons will always be there.”

the words were bitter as they burned from her mouth, and charlie felt the sting as they fell out.

“that’s really not fair-“

“so when will you be back at work?”

she had her arms crossed, a look of forced nonchalance on her face. she eyed him casually, occasionally glancing down at his calloused fingers that were tapping against the back of his armchair.

“whenever the war is over, i reckon. for now i’m staying here in romania, but if the order calls then i’ll leave. i’ll always come back though. this is home.”

she shook her head, laughing humorlessly. “you could never leave the dragons.”

“i don’t think you would ever ask me to.”

she looked up at him again, her eyes dark. “you’re right. i wouldn’t.”

charlie felt something twist in his chest then, at the way her words sounded as they came from her pretty mouth in a sad declaration. he opened his mouth, his face apologetic, but she again waved him off.

“i have an early shift tomorrow,” she gave him a playful look, the solemn mood forgotten. “some of us still have to risk their pretty skin to the flames.”

charlie laughed, glad the mood was back to normal. “you’ve never even been burned! you still have your pretty skin!”

“so you think i have pretty skin?” she flashed a grin, raising her eyebrows.

“the prettiest.”

she laughed, shaking her head. she moved to the door, charlie following close behind. as she placed her hand on the door, she paused, her fingers gripping the worn handle tightly.

“i’m going to miss seeing you at work everyday.”

“we’ll still see each other.”

she laughed again, sadly. “it’s not the same. see you later, weasley.”

she left then, the door shutting behind her with a resounding click.

the following months passed by rather quickly. luminita helped recruit with him, as she had a fair amount of connections he didn’t. she also began helping him duel, to his surprise she was an excellent dueler. her steps were fluid and unpredictable, much like a dragon. charlie learned a lot from her. before long, a year had passed.

they had gathered a fair amount of allies. luminita had been a great asset to charlie and the order, with the previous connections her parents had left behind, she was able to get many behind them quite quickly. yet as voldemort’s reign waged on, things became dangerous even in romania.

voldemort had managed to get the alliance of most of the vampires, and all but a handful of werewolves. they were brutal and ruthless, and attacked their members who were more outspoken. as charlie was kept in hiding, luminita became a prime target for them.

charlie worried every day for her. but at least, she always came back.

the war raged on. in romania, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it was in britain. it was only so rough for the outspoken order members because they were outnumbered by the covens of vampires and packs of werewolves. months passed by, and soon bill and fleur’s wedding at the burrow was approaching.

charlie and billius were discussing plans for the allies while charlie would be in britain. he planned to be gone for only a week, possibly less depending on how things were while he was there. he would be traveling alone, and luminita and billius were going to watch over things here.

“lumi is tough as nails, charlie,” billius shook his head, a laugh slipping out as charlie voiced his worries on being gone. “if you’re so worried about her and care so much, why haven’t you just asked her ass out yet?”

charlie rolled his eyes, rolling his sleeves up as he leaned back in his chair. “it’s not like that. not sure if you’re aware, but some people actually care about others just because they’re good people.”

“sounds like pussy shit to me.”

charlie gave him a look as the other man took a drink of firewhiskey, a smirk on the mans grubby face.

the door to charlie’s shack slammed open. luminita limped through, stumbling and tripping onto the wood floor. her torso, or maybe her back, was soaked and her hands were slick with blood.

charlie rose quickly before she had the chance to ask for help. he scooped her up gently, wincing when she moaned in pain.

“lay her on the table,” billius instructed, sweeping everything off the circle table with a wave of his wand. “i’ll get the kit.”

every member carried a magical first aid knapsack with them. one of their allies, maria, was an excellent healer. she had hand picked the best supplies to have on hand.

“lumi,” charlie laid her down gently, taking her face in his hands. “what happened, where are you hurt?”

“my back,” her eyes twisted shut in pain, tears leaked down her face. “werewolf. a pack, got me before i could apparate.”

a string of curses came from her mouth, and her body contorted in pain.

charlie ran through the date in his head. the full moon was still a week and a half away, so she wouldn’t be turned. but the wounds... they weren’t going to heal. he cursed loudly, grabbing the kit from billius.

“okay lumi, i’m gonna have to put you on your stomach,” charlie told her firmly, nodding to billius. the other man went on the other side of luminita, ready to help. “on the count of three. one, two... three.”

the two men flipped her over as quickly and gently as possible, but a scream still tore from

luminita’s throat. each scream was like a stab into charlie’s chest.

the men removed her shirt, displaying her bare back. it had a thick, silver scar from the middle of her back reaching just over her shoulders. it made charlie pause for a moment. that was a burn from a dragon. he hadn’t ever known she was burned, it was something she had always been praised for.

he forced himself to look away. the werewolf injuries were more important than an older burn scar.

eight deep scars ran from her sides to the middle of her back, four on each side. they met in the middle, raking down the rest of her spine. a shallow bite mark was just below her right shoulder blade.

he grabbed his wand, muttering a spell that wiped the blood away. it still spilled from the wounds, but it made it easier to see where to put the powdered silver and dittany.

together, charlie and billius applied the mixture, sealing the wounds and stopping the bleeding. they were still red and angry raised lines, but they were no longer bleeding. that was all they could do.

“alright, lumi, we’re going to lift you up, alright?” charlie informed her, before nodding to billius. together, they flipped her back over, and helped her sit on the table.

she had a few shallow scratches on her arms and her face, although those appeared to be just from branches or brambles. she was pale, much too pale, and charlie quickly dug for a blood replenishing potion.

“i have one, don’t worry,” luminita waved her arm weakly, pulling one quickly from the depths of her satchel. “takes like utter shit.”

“we’ll give you some firewhiskey to wash it down.” billius said, waving his wand to clean up her smeared blood from around the shack.

luminita swallowed the potion quickly, her face screwing up in disgust. “holy fuck, that’s awful.”

“you’re feeling better.” charlie said quietly, a rush of relief running through his body.

she nodded, taking a glass of firewhiskey from billius. she knocked it down in one gulp, grimacing from the taste. her hands were still covered in blood.

“let me run you a bath.” charlie murmured, deep in thought.

he didn’t wait for a response, instead, he left the room to his small bathroom. he ran the water just below room temp, knowing the werewolf injuries would be hot and uncomfortable in warm water. luminita wasn’t going to be happy, she preferred boiling hot water.

when he entered the room again, she was still sitting on the round table; her eyes shut with her mouth screwed down in a grimace, her hands clenching the sides of the wood. billius had cleaned up and put the kit away, his cloak was put on and he nodded to charlie.

“i’ll be by wednesday, same time.”

charlie nodded to him, and the man left, leaving the two alone.

“do you want me to help you to the bath?” charlie asked, walking over to luminita.

she shook her head, gritting her teeth and she got down from the table. he figured she would say no. she was too proud.

after making sure she was safely in the bathroom, charlie went to his room and got her clean clothes; a pair of his plaid pajama pants and his old holyhead harpies tee shirt. he set them outside the bathroom, along with a towel, and told luminita through the door that they were there.

he then busied himself with making tea, her favorite lavender and chamomile. he also heated up cozonac, a romanian sweet bread. he knew it was one of her comfort foods.

everything was set at the table by the time she came out of the bathroom. charlie was waiting at the table, sitting in his chair with a pensive look on his face.

she snorted, sitting in the chair gingerly. if charlie hadn’t known her so well, the spasm of pain that crossed her face could have been mistaken for annoyance.

“any reason you look like you’re trying to figure out a new species of dragons?”

his eyes flitted to her face, taking in her thinner appearance, the scratches from tonight, the slight bruising on her jaw. she looked so tired, so ragged.

“i want you to come with me to my brothers wedding,” he told her firmly, his expression set. “i need a plus one, anyways.”

she opened her mouth, and charlie knew she was going to argue. he raised a hand, cutting her off with a shake of his head.

“i really don’t want to take no for an answer. i need a date, and you need a break. billius and maria can handle romania for a week. we’re going. that’s final.”

luminita was silent for a moment, and he could almost see the wheels turning in her head. she gave him a smile.

“a date, huh?”

“is that the only thing you heard?”

she shrugged, tearing off a piece of her cozonac. “it certainly was the most interesting.”

he smiled, shaking his head. they ate in silence, the sound of their tea cups clicking against the table and the crackling of the fire the only sound in the small shack.

“how did you get burned?” charlie asked suddenly, nodding towards her. “i saw it when we fixed the scratches.”

“you didn’t fix them,” she muttered, her mouth once again screwed down in a grimace. “there isn’t any fixing them.”

charlie was quiet. he wasn’t sure what he could say.

“when i first was interested in dragons, i was a reckless stupid sixteen year old,” she began, her eyes taking on a faraway look as she recalled her story. “and i wanted to bond with a dragon. i figured if i could do that, i would be guaranteed a spot in the academy. but i didn’t have the training, and i wanted it done right then instead of waiting and gaining its trust. i nearly died... but i didn’t. all i was left with is that horrible scar. and now i just have more.”

“scars add character,” charlie assured her, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. “i have plenty, but it just makes me look badass, right?”

“not really, no” she responded, although with the lift of her lips he knew she was joking. “my first though when i see you isn’t, ‘oh wow, what a badass’, it’s normally, ‘oh fuck, what does he need me to do now?’”

charlie laughed, running his thumb over her knuckles. “well, it’s a good thing we’re going to take a vacation, huh?”

“you really want me to meet your family?”

“of course i do. you’re basically my family.”

she nodded slowly, and drained the rest of her tea. charlie gathered their plates, placing them in the sink. he turned back to her, realizing he would have to sleep on the couch.

“erm, you can have my bed,” charlie told her, motioning towards his room. “i’ll take the couch.”

“nonsense,” she shook her head, nodding towards the room. “we can share your bed. i’m not kicking you out of your bed and i don’t think my back could handle the couch.”

charlie shook his head. “we aren’t going to sleep together-“

“no shit. all we’re doing is sharing a bed. big deal. what, are you a ten year old? it’s just a damn bed and we’re friends.”

“it wouldn’t be right-“

“oh what, too much of a pansy to share a bed with a girl?”

charlie narrowed his eyes. he knew logically that she said that only so he would be forced to agree, but he found he didn’t care to fight her on it. “fine. let’s go.”

they lay on opposite sides of the bed, with a pillow in between the two. he could hear her breathing, more ragged than usual. he was attuned to her usual noises. it made him on edge to hear a difference.

“charlie?”

“yeah?”

“i really care for you. i just don’t know how much longer i can wait for you.”

as he thought of a reply, the sounds of her snoring filled the room. he figured she was probably near sleep when she said the words, and she didn’t mean it.

he had to believe that.

two

[champion-leon-imagines]

Chronicles of Galar - Prologue 1: Taiko Hirebayashi

Some Info beforehand. This is going a pretty long fic with several chapters. But the chapters are somewhat different than normal fanfictions. Because they are just in chronological order but some of them are not actually connected to each other and some may have a greater timeskip than others. Imagine it like a readable diary of your adventures with just the mention worthy adventures added. But be careful, because this story is like a HELL OF A TOOTHROTTING-FLUFF fic. The main pairing is of course You x Leon. A side Pairing is Taiko(OC) x Raihan and a mentioned Pairing is Leiko(OC) x Piers Although, you won’t have to deal much with Leiko. But Taiko will get a bigger role since she becomes your best friend. Oh and if you wanna look for the Fic and it’s parts, make sure to follow the tag: Chronicles of Galar. Now enough Chatting, here is the introduction of the first character: My lovely tsun Taiko! And don’t forget: This is NOT proof read. English is NOT my first language. So please be gentle with mistakes.

[Prologue: Taiko Hirebayashi]

[9 years before  the timeline in sword / shield]

“Taiko, honey. Don't run too far away from the camp. The wild area is teeming with Pokemon. ”, a woman, around her late 20s to early 30s with purple hair that was tied in a pigtail, spoke in a warning tone. She wore glasses and petted a Flareon, her loyal partner Pokemon. "Yes, mommy.", a 9-year old girl with fiery red hair replied cheekily. "And stop using this word, please. Did you learn that here in Galar? Please just call me mother. ”, she corrected her daughter. Ever since the holiday in Galar began, the child seemed to have increasingly adopted the linguistic peculiarities of the inhabitants of this region. "Okay, mother.", Taiko muttered and rolled her eyes in slight annoyance. She didn't thought it was that bad, because she loved everything in Galar. Much more than at her home in Ecruteak City, in Johto. Her mother was one of the dancing geishas at Ho-Oh's temple, which was why Taiko was promised an Eevee for her 10th birthday as a starter Pokemon. Like all geishas, ​​she should learn the art of meditation dance one day, in order to command the awe of the holy phoenix pokemon. But now they were here, in Galar, enjoying a few days of vacation.

Taiko quickly got bored, however. In her tent, she started to felt shut in. Her toys were only entertaining for a short period of time. She wanted to explore the wild area and see Pokemon! No matter how much her mother told her not to.

The young redhead sneaked out of the tent, while her parents were talking to an employee of the Pokemon Rangers, because a wild Dynamax Pokemon attacked the Lake of outrage nearby. Therefore, a warning was issued to all traveling coaches and tourists to stay away from this lake in any case.

If that didn't sound like an adventure ..

Without even thinking about it, the girl simply ran through the wild area. Lake of outrage was relatively in the middle of the area and her parents' camp was quite far to the south, at a popular campground for out-of-towners. Because there were only weak Pokemon running around, which did not pose any danger to hikers.

So Taiko just had to walk south, right? ... But she didn't knew where the south was.

The extroverted redhead remembered her days in the scouts camp, which had taken place near Cianwood City. She remembered that moss grows  on the northern side of trees because they are often in the shade due to the rays of the sun on the other side and the moss can spread there. So Taiko examined the surrounding trees and based on the position of the moss, she quickly knew where north was. She nodded proudly and then strutted north, full of energy.

Meanwhile in another part of the wild area.

“Pokeball, go!” an 11 year old boy with dark skin, casual clothes and a red headband that hid most of his hair, shouted. The pokeball hit a small, white spherical pokemon, which was vaguely reminiscent of a slug. The dragon pokemon Goomy. The ball wobbled three times before stopping and trapping the Pokemon. "YES!" the boy smirked and put himself in a victory pose, which, of course, nobody could see because he was alone. Shortly afterwards, he took his Rotom smartphone out of his pocket and took a picture of himself and his latest catch. Then he opened a social media page that was similar to Facebook.

'Look, I caught a Goomy! The dragon tamer Raihan has struck again! : D Soon nobody can stop me, so take a good look @Leon! I will be champion before you!'

With a grin, Raihan tapped 'Publish' and waited for the many likes from his friends and “fans”, as he liked to call his followers. It took less than 5 minutes before his best friend and rival had already made a like and comment.

'Wow, congratulations @Raihan! This Pokemon is totally rare! Unfortunately I haven't seen one yet. But don't be too early! Who will be champion first is still to be decided! '

Raihan grinned and replied, in his cheeky way. 'You have to find the stadium for our decisive fight first! XD I have enough time to train my Pokemon. '

The young man put his smartphone back in his pocket, he knew that Leon never accepted his provocations and therefore it was a waste of time to wait for an answer. “Come on, Vibrava. Let's see if we can find more cool Pokemon! ”He said to his partner Pokemon. The green, dragonfly-like Pokemon nodded eagerly and flew over the area, while Raihan grinned and followed his companion. He just loved looking for Pokemon in the wild area.

Back to Taiko. The young redhead was already regretting her spontaneous ideas and had to admit: she was lost.

This part of the wild area was so heavily overgrown by dense forest that hardly any sunlight penetrated through the thicket and consequently the moss grew on all sides of the trees. So it was impossible for her to determine in which direction she had to go.

"...MUM? DAD? DO YOU HEAR ME? ”And then she gave up and called desperately for her parents. Why the hell was she always so .. stubborn and had to give in to her curiosity?

The girl fell on her knees and began to cry. She was just too spontaneous and didn't think about the consequences. Now she was here in an unknown area, far away from her parents and who knows what else was lurking in the dark thicket?

A bush near her began to jiggle and that frightened the little girl. She stopped her emotional outburst and looked frightened at the bush. She crawled a few feet back from her almost sitting position and shivered as the rustling increased. Taiko swallowed lightly, trying not to make a sound to attract the attention of this unknown creature in the bush.

Suddenly a small, white rabbit pokemon rolled out with some somersaults. It had a kind of red fur in the shape of a plaster on its nose and its long ears wiggled and twitched as it straightened up and looked around. Taiko looked at the little Pokemon, which noticed her now too. It looked back. Neither of them moved for a few moments until Taiko blinked several times.

"How cute ..", she beamed and crawled forward on all fours. The little Pokemon stopped and tilted its head slightly as it watched the humans movements. "Scor? Scorbunny!" the little creature said. Taiko knew that Pokemon could only say their name, so now she knew the species. So that was a Scorbunny! She had never seen it before. Was it a regional Pokemon from Galar?

"Mmm, I think I have some candy somewhere …" the redhead mumbled. At least the situation calmed her down enough to forget about her outbreak minutes before ... She searched her pockets and actually found some fruit gums made from red haban berries. A very sweet type of berry that was perfect for sweets. Taiko smiled and offered the Pokemon some fruit gums. "Little one? You're are hungry, aren't you? ”She asked.

Scorbunny bounced closer and sniffed the girl's hand. Probably a first approach as to whether it could trust the person. As it took a fruit gum on its paws, it sniffed the gelatine again and stuffed it into its mouth. Taiko giggled as the Scorbunny gleefully chewed the fruit gum and then happily hopped up. "Scor! Scor Scor Bun?"

Taiko didn't knew what the Pokemon was trying to tell her, but from it's hopping around and staring at the fruit gums, it was obvious. It wanted more candy. The redhead smiled and gave Scorbunny a few more fruit gums. This time the Pokemon was braver and patted Taiko's hand with its paws before pounding on the fruit gums. Taiko had to laugh gently when Scorbunny let 5 fruit gums disappear into it's mouth at once and chewed contentedly. "You remind me of me." Taiko giggled.

Scorbunny finished snacking and as a token of gratitude, leaned it with its head on her arm and cuddled up to her. Taiko blinked slightly in surprise. Who could have guessed that wild Pokémon would approach humans so quickly? So obviously love goes through the stomach. Taiko smiled again and ruffled Scorbunnys fur behind it's ears. The Pokemon let out a satisfied purr and closed its eyes.

After a while, the Pokemon hopped onto her lap. This action surprised Taiko and she put both hands around the Pokemon. "It's so trusting .. it definitely belongs to someone ..", the redhead sighed, disappointed. She would have liked to keep the Scorbunny to herself. The two lingered like this for a few minutes until Taiko noticed that she was still in a quandary. She still didn't know how to get back to her parents. And the Pokemon was certainly not a sign back.

Slowly, the girl got up and let Scorbunny on the floor. “Go, your trainer is probably already worried about you.“ Taiko smiled and gave it a few last fruit gums before she continued on her way.

For the next 10 minutes she already missed Scorbunny .. She sighed softly to herself and stopped to lean against a tree. "Scorbunny ..." Taiko's eyes widened when she heard the Pokemon's call and turned around. Scorbunny was a few meters away from her. Taiko didn't even think for a second that it might be another Pokemon. It MUST be the same ..

When the Pokemon saw the girl kneel down, it ran into her arms and snuggled against the redhead's chest. Taiko straightened up and hugged the Pokemon. "You probably missed me too ..?", She asked and as if Scorbunny wanted to answer, it's nose nudged her fist when she raised her hand in front of it. Taiko smiled. "Then let's find a way back together." Scorbunny nodded and climbed onto her shoulder, where it made itself comfortable.

Taiko went on for a while, she didn't know how long, but it was already getting dark. Her parents were probably worried ... Then suddenly a huge lake was before her. Scorbunny sniffed the new surroundings and then tensed up with a menacing growl. The redhead swallowed at this cautious behavior. "The Lake of Outrage ...", she realized then. She wanted to run in the other direction when suddenly a giant Pangoro blocked her way. Apparently she had invaded it's territory because it looked angry. And aggressive.

The redhead stepped back, startled, and tripped over a thick branch. She fell on her bum and held her aching foot after she fell on it with her weight and cried out in pain. Pangoro seemed angry at the noise and stepped closer. It's dangerous threatening gesture made the girl's blood run cold. Scorbunny growled loudly and jumped in front of the girl as if it wanted to fight Pangoro.

"No..! This is an evolved Pokemon ...! It's too strong .. ” Taiko warned, but Scorbunny tried to attack with a double kick and jumped on the evolved Panda Pokemon. Pangoro held up Scorbunnys leg with one paw and tossed it back so that it landed in the mud next to the girl. "Scorbunny!" Taiko shouted distraught and took Scorbunny in her arms when Pangoro came closer and raised his paw for a blow. The redhead closed her eyes tightly and tears ran down her cheeks. "I don't want to die yet ..."

"Vibrava, dragon rush!", a boy's voice penetrated her ears and Taiko looked up when something enveloped in a blue aura slammed into the menacing Panda Pokemon from above in full speed. Pangoro was staggered by the recoil and  Raihan jumped in front of Taiko, ordering his Vibrava to make further attacks. "Super power, now!"Raihan ordered, causing Vibrava to launch a wave of attacks on the Pangoro. The fighting Pokemon appeared to be extremely robust and put up with all attacks. "Damn it, well then we have no other choice. Vibrava, use sandstorm! "Raihan shouted. Then he turned to the girl behind him. "Cover your mouth and nose!"

Taiko nodded and pushed the scarf, that her mother had given her over, half over her face. Vibrava created a dense sandstorm that made the entire area so opaque that you couldn't see anything. It was only when Taiko felt someone put a hand on her shoulder that she recognized the outlines of the boy, who helped her. "Let's get out of here before the storm subsides," he said. Taiko tried to get up, but a strong pain in her leg made her fall back to the ground.

"Ouch .."

"Hey, are you okay?" Raihan asked, holding her to keep her from falling again.

"I must have broken my leg when I tripped earlier .. I can't step .." the redhead sighed in frustration. Raihan blinked for a moment and saw his Vibrava land on his shoulder. He knew the sandstorm wouldn't hold up the enemy Pokemon much longer. An idea occurred to him without further ado and he turned his back on the girl while he knelt down. “Climb on my back. I'll carry you. ", He said.

"T-I can't ask that of you ..", Taiko mumbled and shook her head vigorously.

“Come on, my tent is not far from here and the storm won't hold back Pangogo for long. We have to get out of here. ”, the young trainer explained and Taiko probably had no other choice. She sighed and climbed onto his back, the Scorbunny clinging on her shirt and holding onto her as the boy carried her away from the lake.

It really didn't take long, a maximum of 10 minutes, until the boy reached his tent and gently laid the young girl on his sleeping bag.

"Here we are. Uhm. What's your name anyway? ”The boy then asked with a smile.

"T-Taiko and what's your name?"

"Raihan. Are you a Gym Challenger too? " Raihan asked and saw how the Scorbunny had snuggled up with her and was sleeping. The redhead shook her head. “I'm not from here and I'm only 9 .. My parents and I are only here for vacation. I live in Johto. “, She then explained.

“Then why were you alone at Lake of outrage? It's not an approved campsite at all. On the contrary, it is strictly forbidden for travelers to enter here.“

"Uhm .. well .. I was curious because I was bored in the tent and .. then I somehow got lost ..", the redhead explained, embarrassed, and tugged on a strand of red hair. Raihan just looked at her before he laughed. This reaction offended Taiko now that she thought he was making fun of her situation.

"Hey, that's not funny, I was really scared!" She said with a pout and turned away with slightly flushed cheeks. Raihan wiped a tear of laughter from his face and grinned slightly before winking at her. "Sorry, I didn't laugh at you. Just .. I've done so much nonsense too. When I was 5, my father was camping here with me too and I saw a Trapinch and followed it to Lake of outrage too. My father had to save me from a wild Gyarados in the water. And I was just thinking that I was having a deja vu when I saved you, ”he admitted with a laugh.

Taiko blinked slightly.

"Uhm ..", she just wasn't quite sure what to say to that. "Thank you for the rescue ..", she said quietly, but still slightly offended, and turned her head away from him.

"You are welcome. But let's take care of your leg first. ", Raihan said and got a first aid kit from the corner of his stuff. Taiko lingered as quiet as a mouse, a rarity with her otherwise extroverted personality, when Raihan exposed the leg by lifting her pants up the affected leg and pulling down her socks to inspect the damage. “That looks bad. No wonder you can't walk. ", He said and took a rag that he moistened with a kind of disinfectant spray. "That could burn a bit now," he warned her.

The redhead bit her lip and squeaked softly as he placed the rag on the wound on her leg. Raihan smiled and praised her for how bravely she got through this action. She even had to laugh a little when he confessed that he had screamed like crazy when he was injured and his father wanted to treat him with the stuff too. She didn't know why, but somehow Taiko didn't feel so helpless anymore.

She watched spellbound as he expertly cleaned the wound and treated it with a bandage. "You don't seem to be doing this for the first time," she said then. Raihan blinked and then looked up at her as he kneeled in front of her to put his foot on his lap.

"Yeah. I have a clumsy best friend. His injury rate is pretty high when he's got lost. I don't even know how often I've been bandaged his falls and grazes. ", Raihan said thoughtfully and Taiko giggled. “Sounds like me. I am also at risk of injury. A miracle it was only the leg. ", She sighed. Raihan smiled and put her leg down again.

“You would certainly get along well. He exudes the same positive energy as you. ", Raihan said, whereupon Taiko went a little red in the face. However, she didn't know why. "I exude positive energy?" She asked.

"Sure, of course. You can see that just by how Scorbunny has taken you to its heart! I thought to myself that it wasn't yours when you said you were only 9 and not from here. So it's a wild Pokemon, but it behaves like you've been training it for years. ", The boy remarked, whereupon the girl's cheeks turned even darker. "Uhm .. I'll take that as a compliment .." she whispered, slightly embarrassed. "It was one." Raihan winked and was amused by the shy behavior of the girl. At the lake she had behaved differently. Then there was a short silence between the two of them until Raihan reached for his smartphone. For once, he wasn't interested in his social media activities. “Which campsite are you at? In the east or in the south? ”He asked.

"Uhm .. south?"

"All right." Raihan smiled and started dialing a number.

"Who are you calling?"

“Mr. Pascal. He is practically the lessor of the campsite. Your parents surely miss you. So I'll give him our coordinates so that someone can come and pick you up. Because I can't carry you the way to the campsite. ”At this comment the redhead blushed again and turned away slightly. “Your last name would still be helpful to find your parents more easily. "..Hirabayashi."

Raihan called and talked to Pascal for a few minutes until he had passed on all the informations. About the aggressiveness of the Pokemon at Lake of outrage, about the injured girl and also their whereabouts. Then he thanked him and hung up. “They can't send a rescue team out until tomorrow morning because they'd have problems finding us and transporting you. I told them that you can spend the night with me in the tent and that you are safe. ", Raihan said. "Uhm .. but you only have one sleeping bag." Taiko spoke. "But that doesn't matter .. I can sleep on the floor."

Raihan sighed.

“There is no way of letting a girl sleep on the floor. You sleep in my sleeping bag, I sleep on the floor. " He said.

"Never."

"Well, then we'll both sleep on the floor if you don't give in." Raihan shrugged his shoulders, whereupon Taiko rolled his eyes. "Then give in.", She said and shrugged her shoulders. Raihan grinned slightly and folded his arms behind his neck.

"Only if you sleep in my sleeping bag." Was the devious answer. "To what extent is that giving in for YOU?" Taiko asked now and crossed her arms in front of her chest. The two just looked at each other for a few moments before Raihan sighed in defeat. "Well, let's make a compromise.", He said, which made Taiko sit up and take notice. “It gets darn cold here at night anyway. If we cuddle up a little ... together, we can both sleep in the sleeping bag and the body heat prevents us from half-freezing to death. "

His suggestion made Taiko look shocked. He wasn't really serious, was it? She didn't know this boy at all. But now that he said it, it was actually quite fresh. "..."

"You can of course also become a living Vanillite if ​​you prefer that.", Raihan said and spread out the sleeping bag. "Okay, okay. It's only for one night. ", She gave in, whereupon Raihan had to laugh again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The next morning, Taiko's parents and some of the wild area staff members went to the location of forest that Raihan had described for them. It wasn't long before they found the tent, which was guarded by a Duraludon. “This is Raihan’s tent. It has to be. " Pascal remaked, before Taikos parents ran to the tent. "Taiko ?!"

Taiko blinked, she was still half asleep when she yawned and snuggled into something warm. This warmth moved slightly, from which the redhead woke up. She wiped away the sleep on her eyes and then saw how she was snuggled up against Raihan, her legs tangled and his arms pressed her to his chest.

The girl quickly broke away from him and Raihan woke up too. "Woah?"

The redhead ignored him and let her mother hug her tightly.

"What kind of things are you doing?" Her mother scolded her. "I'm sorry .. really .." the girl apologized and was then pulled into a hug by her father. "Never do that again," he said then. "You're hurt, aren't you? I'll carry you back. ", He said then and wanted to pick her up. "Wait, dad ..!" Taiko stopped him and then turned to Raihan. She made a beckoning hand gesture that signaled him to come closer. "Thanks again for everything, Raihan. I hope to see you again. ", She smiled and hugged him goodbye. Raihan smiled and hugged back. “Well, if you ever want to visit Galar again, you are always welcome. Until then, I'm champion and you can visit me in my palace. ”He laughed. "The champion lives in a palace?" Taiko asked and her eyes widened greatly.

"I dunno, but definitely!", Raihan laughed then, whereupon Taiko had to laugh too. "Well, see you at some point, hopefully. And take care of yourself, you risk-of-injury. ", He said teasingly.

Taiko was then carried back to the campsite and was even allowed to keep Scorbunny.

And what should she say?

5 years later, she set foot in Galar again after her divorced mother wanted to start a new life over there and Taiko seized the opportunity and followed her to see the cute boy from back then again.

[nocturna-iv]

001: descendants, 002: Bumarry, 003: Ben for the ask game please ❤️

Hi luv!

About this ask:

And of course!

001: Descendants

Favorite character: Uma

Least Favorite character: Mal

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Harry Hook x Uma

Ben x Uma

Harriet Hook x Ginny Gothel 

Jay x Lonnie

Jay x Uma

5 Favorite polyships (canon or non-canon):

Ben x Harry Hook x Uma (Ben x Gil x Harry Hook x Uma)

Audrey x Harry Hook x Gil x Uma (Audrey x Ben x Harry Hook x Gil x Uma)

Carlos de Vil x Jay x Lonnie

Chad x Jay x Gil x Harry Hook 

Gil x Harry Hook x Jay x Uma

Character I find most attractive: Harry Hook

Character I would marry: Ben, Harry, Lonnie & Uma

Character I would be best friends with: Ben, Carlos, Jane & Jay

A random thought: Because it’s Disney, Descendants doesn’t touch on prostitution, human trafficking, and violent sexuality and at a very early age that the VK had to live, as happens in the real world in invasions, guerrillas (child soldiers), street children or centers penitentiaries not properly regulated (such as the Isle of the Lost, a prison without guards and any law). But I don’t touch on the subject because it’s something very real and strong to expose it like that with the fandom but due to my profession and work, it’s something that my brain always remembers. Also, I don't like it when people treat these topics just for shock value.

An unpopular opinion: It's visibly awkward that ships and popular characters are mostly white. And I mean in the content of the fandom. Although we talk about the racism that exists in the canon, very few people seek to balance the numbers with new contributions  (whether with content with canon characters, OCs, or y/n). I don't know if it makes sense. But it seems that it is easy to talk about racism but not do something actively to include BIPOC characters (This is why I get excited when I find people drawing Audrey, Jay, Evie, Uma, and others without lightening their skin tone or writing fics with BIPOC y/n or creating things with the BIPOC canon characters as their main characters)

My canon OTP: Harry Hook x Uma

Non-canon OTP: Jay x Lonnie

Most badass character: Uma

Pairing I am not a fan of: Any ship with Mal. Especially Mal canon. And I HATE Mal x Uma, Audrey x Mal and Ben x Mal. Because of the toxic and abusive environment.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): 

Chad Charming.  From the start, Chad, Cinderella's son was turned into... a terrible character. Well, in the beginning, he is intelligent and manipulative, who knows how to use his charm against others. Brilliant. Cool. I can work with that. He may have an arc about learning about his wrongdoing and using his privileges to help others who don't. But no, the character just went downhill and became everyone's joke. 

Also, Ben, obviously. The movies wouldn't exist without him and he became an accessory to Mal. Disney can only write hero and damsel in distress, it seems. Because they do that to Ben. A tool to move the plot. My poor golden boy.

Favourite friendship: Jay and Lonnie. Give me two best friends who constantly joke around, kick each other's butt, compete in even the most ridiculous things, are affectionate with each other and even if they don't plan on it, they spend time together (I'm seeing you Jay and "I'm not going to invite no one to the ball but I'm going to dance with Lonnie all night ")

Character I want to adopt or be adopted by: I'm going to adopt Celia and no one will be able to stop me!

002: Bumarry,

When of if I started shipping it: Technically I answered this here. Also, from looking for Huma and Buma fics, I ended up finding my first Bumarry and... Oh, I got hooked on the idea.

My thoughts: They are my OTPoly (One True Polyship). I love them. Because they allow me to mix the variables and create new scenarios. After all the damage Ben has gone through, I inevitably want to give him the best and the best is Huma. What else can I say? It’s absolute logic.

What makes me happy about them: The devotion, affection, and strength they would have. Ben and Uma are very different leaders who complement each other very well and I could only trust Harry to take care of the two of them and give them the freedom they deserve. Ben is incredibly loving and that's something both Harry and Uma deserve to feel, Uma is incredibly protective and Ben needs that backing to rule and Harry needs that to stay alive every 5 seconds. Harry's loyalty is unprecedented, he would see to not only that everything is up to Ben and Uma's standards, but he would personally see that their dreams come true.

What makes me sad about them: 

Harry Hook/Uma:

Ben/Harry Hook:

Ben/Uma:

Ben/Harry Hook/Uma:

There isn't much of them... And they're mostly fics of mine. I want more content, you know? I want to read fics, drabbles, see fanarts... Buh.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: It’s not in Bumarry itself. Actually, it's in Ben/Harry Hook, they usually play dirty with Uma. And it annoys me. They make her mean, jealous, cruel, or things like that to Ben and Harry. And this I came across once: They make Harry gay and that his relationship/dynamic with Uma is pure appearance. I had no problem with Harry being gay, but the justification for his sexual tension with Uma was all... Fake? No, it didn't fit in well with me. I think that's why when you ask me to write Ben/Harry Hook, Uma is there to give support. Don't play dirty with my queen.

Things I look for in fanfic: Uma dom! Uma top! Those are my favorite tags.

My kinks: With this polyship? Okay... BDSM all the way. 

Ben:  Caring dom, cuckolding, cupping, degradee (especially with actions), experimentalists, little one, masochist, pet, hunter (primal), praise kink, prey (primal), rope bunny, submissive, suspension, switch, tentacle fetich, voyeur,  wax play

Harry Hook: Alpha sub, brat, breath play, biting fetich, choking, cupping, dom, degrader, exhibitionist, knife play (hook play?), owner, pet, praise kink, prey (primal), rigger, sadistic, slave, submissive,  switch, tentacle fetich

Uma:  Brat tamer, biting fetich, Dom, electrostimulation (electro-wand, feel like a little sting), exhibitionist, Immobilization, masochist, mistress, owner, hunter (primal),  orgasm control, sensation play, scratching, 

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Ben/Uma, Ben/Harry Hook, Harry Hook/Uma, with Gil, Evie or Jay. 

My happily ever after for them: 

Ben and Uma reigning Auradon and the Isle of the Lost together, Harry Hook taking care of them so they don't get exhausted and are protected from any attack. 

Ben on the run with Harry and Uma to live a pirate life and reclaiming Auradon in a rebellion.

003 Ben

How I feel about this character: I love him! He has good intentions. Ben knows that he is in a position of power and struggles to take advantage of his privileges to change things. He is rebellious, the second he is going to take the throne he begins to dismantle the system. Ben has a good heart and wants to help other people. Besides, I love that he has his survival instinct broken.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Uma, Harry Hook, Evie, Gil, Jay, Audrey and Chad

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Jane, Lonnie, Chad, Audrey, Evie, Uma, Harry Hook, Evie, Gil, Jay hahaha

My unpopular opinion about this character: Because he's a guy, the fandom downplays the horrible things he's been through.

One thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon: He has maintained his friendship with Audrey and Chad. It breaks my heart to know that he is completely alone in that department since D1 and is perpetuated throughout the following films. I also wanted him to end up with Mal.

My het ship: Ben/Uma & Audrey/Ben

My fem/slash ship: Ben/Harry Hook, Ben/Gil, Ben/Chad

My OTP: Ben/Uma

My OT3: Ben/Harry Hook/Uma

My cross over ship: *thinking* Oh... Ben/Leo Valdez (PJO) And! And! Ben/Reggie (JATP)

My kink: Caring dom, cuckolding, cupping, degradee (especially with actions), experimentalists, little one, masochist, pet, hunter (primal), praise kink, prey (primal), rope bunny, submissive, suspension, switch, tentacle fetich, voyeur,  wax play

A HC fact: He likes to constantly question himself. About his sexual orientation, about his gender identity, about his ability to love, about his pleasure, above all. He likes to explore. Ben is queer.

My gender bend: Technically I already have it. In Meanwhile. Bee, she loos like her. I LOVE the idea of Bee shieldmaiden.

I love responding this! Thank you!!!!!!!