#when i get better at drawing dragons from the front I’ll come back

[headfullof-ideas]

All right, before I post the first two chapters sometime this weekend, I’m posting the rough reference sheet for the first original dragon species that will appear in this series, and the dragon that Kari rides, known as the Dreadraptor.

The Dreadraptor is a dragon species not native to the Archipelago, only showing up and participating in the region wide raids in the last decade, so the people of the Archipelago don’t really know much about them. They’re a slightly less common species in comparison to the species such as Monstrous Nightmare, Gronckle, Hideous Zippleback, and Deadly Nadder, which can be found almost anywhere, but the Dreadraptor can be found in nearly all of the same regions of the world as the aforementioned species.

The trait that makes them stand out amongst other dragon species are their eyesight. Dragons have good vision, better than a humans, especially when it comes to seeing in the dark. However, most species don’t have true night vision, except for when it comes to the Dreadraptor. There’s no hiding from a Dreadraptor when it’s dark out, their night vision impeccable. They’re a Strike Class dragon, though arguments have been made to make them a dual-class dragon in order to be placed in the Tracker Class as well, largely duet to their night vision and they’re slightly better sense of smell in comparison to most dragons.

They come in nearly all the same colors as the common species of dragon, with the same occasional variety of red and purple eyes. Yellow eyes are the most common color, with blues, purples, and dark green being the most common colors, though lighter colors of other varieties aren’t necessarily uncommon. When it comes to determining gender, the only real difference is the crests and horns around their faces. Males will also more often than females have spikes on their chests, but some females will too, like how a ‘beard’ on a Monstrous Nightmare isn’t conclusive to the sex of the dragon who has it. Dreadraptors also come in a variety of patterns, some solidly striped, while others have spots, and some can even have a combination of the two.

I pulled a lot of inspiration from the dragons from Reign of Fire for the Dreadraptors, and started writing this story before I had either a name or even a solid design in my head. I couldn’t initially decide what dragon I wanted for Kari, nothing really fitting the picture in my head, so eventually I just made my own species. I already have plans to introduce a ‘false dragon’ species later on in the story, so an original dragon species didn’t seem too far fetched. I hope everyone likes them.

[ladykailitha]

The Magic of Christmas Part 3/8

Just an extra long chapter here because they didn't want to shut up. They're getting closer and their best friends are slowly coming on board to the idea.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Eddie was vibrating. Chrissy had done a total deep dive into this guy and other then being a bratty teenager and having shit parents there was nothing in Steve’s closet that would set off alarm bells.

Steve Harrington just knew how to deal with people to get what he wanted. He knew when to back off, too. In fact, Eddie was trying to get the dude stop backing off so much.

He was a people pleaser with eroded boundaries. And while that was certainly a problem, it wasn’t a ‘might be a serial killer’ problem like Chrissy thought.

So yeah, Eddie was vibrating because he was going to show Steve his first set of sketches for him to okay the design.

Steve was late. He had called to let him know he would be late. A meeting had gone over and he would be there as soon as he could.

Eddie pulled out his drawing pad and flipped through the designs he had come up with. He itched to pull out a pencil and “fix” a line or seven. But he had to refrain. If he started on it he would be so far down the rabbit hole that he would have three new designs before Steve got here.

A shadow crossed over him and he looked up to see Steve standing there.

“Steve!” he greeted warmly, getting to his feet.

They shook hands and then sat down.

“So what have you got for me?” Steve asked eagerly, leaning on his forearms to see Eddie’s drawing pad.

Eddie grinned at him. “I’ve got loads, big boy.” He turned the drawing pad around and Steve paid diligent attention to each piece.

He went back to the third design and turned it back to face Eddie. “I like this one. But I have one suggestion, if I may?”

Eddie shrugged. “Sure.”

“What if the dragon’s wings spread out over the four other pieces connecting them?” Steve asked, biting on his lip.

Eddie began to sketch furiously while Steve watched in fascination.

“Have you ever thought about streaming your process?” Steve asked. “It’s very enthralling.”

Eddie’s head jerked up like he’d forgotten Steve was there at all. He looked down at his pad and blushed. “I never thought I’d have the patience for it, you know? The whole explaining it while I’m doing it.”

Steve nodded. “I can see why that might deter you. But if you just drew or painted and put music over the top, I think it would do very well.”

“And would you be my first subscriber?” Eddie teased.

“Hell yeah!” Steve said with a grin. “And I would tell everyone I know to subscribe too.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He slid the drawing back over to Steve, who grinned.

“Perfect.”

*

“Edward Allen Munson!” Chrissy hissed as she threw open the door to their loft. “You tell me right now: are you joking about the YouTube channel?”

Eddie looked up from his sketching and blinked at her. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

She walked over to where he had sprawled out in front of the five canvasses and flopped down across from him. “I am pleased but only if you aren’t trying to butter me up to leave you alone about your ridiculous crush.”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth, licking and smacking his lips as he struggled for words.

“It’s about the crush but not in the way you mean…?” he said with a grimace.

She crossed her legs and put her elbows on her knees. She rested her head on her knuckles to stare him down. He wiggled and squirmed under her gaze.

“Explain.”

So Eddie did.

Chrissy rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “So no talking but what if I convinced you to let me write words to put up on the screen while you paint talking about the subject matter and why you chose it?”

“Oh!” he said brightly. “Even better! Why don’t I talk about D&D or music while I paint? That way I can babble to my hearts content without out having to drone on about the process.”

She blinked at him. “Eddie Munson you are a genius.” She rose up on her still crossed legs and kissed him soundly on the forehead. “I love it and you.”

Eddie blushed and went back to his sketching.

*

“Steve!” Dustin screamed into his ear when he picked up the phone mere days after his last meeting with Eddie.

“God, kid,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down. I don’t want to go deaf please.”

He could practically feel the eye roll from here.

“Eddie Munson has a YouTube channel!” Dustin continued to scream. “Oh my god do you know how big this is?!”

“One, I need to you to breath before you pass out from lack of oxygen to your brain,” Steve said. “You like your brain, don’t abuse it like this.”

Dustin let out a slow shuddering breath. “Right. I’m breathing.”

“Good,” Steve said slowly. “And two, I know about the channel because he told me about it.”

“You already know?” Dustin squawked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Steve sighed. “Look at the clock and tell me what time it is?”

“2:37pm. Why?”

“What time did the channel go live?” Steve asked, pinch the bridge of his nose.

“About one.”

“And where would you have been at one?” he asked, his eyes fluttering shut against the audacity of this kid.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, bud,” Steve said. “Oh. You were in class. Which I still don’t understand why you are taking summer classes. You’re young, you should enjoy your life.” He tilted his head. “How did you find out so fast anyway?”

“I follow Eddie on twitter, Facebook, Instragram, and his fan Discord server.” This was said as though it was obvious.

“Well now you have one more place to follow him,” Steve said ignoring the tone.

“Steve…” Dustin said, his voice low and dangerous. “Why are you his first subscriber?”

“Look, Dustin,” he said trying to keep the giggle in his throat from bursting through, “I’ve got to run. I have a meeting.”

“Stev–”

Steve sighed as he held the phone against his forehead, grateful they weren’t in person.

“Yeah, Steve,” Robin said from the doorway, “why were you his first subscriber?”

He blushed a dark red. “Because I promised I would be when I suggested the channel three days ago?”

Robin narrowed her eyes. “I see.”

Steve wasn’t sure what she saw, but he knew he would find out soon enough.

*

Eddie was working on Dustin’s first because he felt like it was the most important to get right. Wizards were usually portrayed as dusty old men and it appeared that this kid had done the same. But then the character was created ten years ago.

But Eddie decided to avoid a Gandolf/Dumbledore looking dude and went more for a Jafar that had gotten the time to grow old. A neat goatee, a sharp piercing gaze and weather-beaten skin.

His robe had stars on it according to Will the Wise’s picture of them. So he decided to make the robe look it was filled with swirling galaxies and nebulae.

Eddie was working on the cave background when his phone chirped. He tucked his paintbrush behind his ear and pulled it out.

Rich Pretty Boy: I got ahold of a couple of friends of mine that are going to help promote your charity. Nancy Wheeler is an investigative journalist most of the time but she owes me a favor and is willing to interview you about the charity to get it seen on a national platform. I’ll email you the details.

Eddie blinked at his phone in shock. Nancy Wheeler was the new and improved Barbara Walters (improved as in she wasn’t an ass to the people she was interviewing.) That must be a huge fucking favor she owed Steve if he got her for this.

EM: Holy shit! What kind of blackmail do you have on her for this?

RPB: LOL! I’m sworn to secrecy, sorry. :(

EM: All right, keep your secrets.

RPB: That’s LotR, right?

EM: Correct. I know you keep telling me you aren’t a nerd, but dude every time we talk I gather more and more evidence to the contrary.

RPB: I blame Dustin. He wore me down.

EM: Then I take it upon myself to complete the education that Sir Dustin has begun!

EM: Meet me at my loft on Friday at 8pm. We are going to start with the animated classics of the 80s!

RPB: Beer or wine?

EM: Beer.

EM: I’ll see you later, pretty boy. I have this huge project I’m working on that is on a deadline.

RPB: Curse the bastard that’s taking up all your time. ;)

Eddie laughed out loud.

EM: He’s the worst. ;)

RPB: See you on Friday, Eds.

EM: Laters!

Eddie put his phone down with a fond smile on his face. It was absolutely ridiculous how much he loved this beautiful idiot that had come in and swept him off his feet.

*

“Tell me again why I have to be here for this?” Chrissy complained for the fifth time that hour.

“Because fair Christine,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “it’s not a date and he’s bringing his best friend.”

“How is his secretary his best friend anyway?” she groused, folding her arms and burying herself into the big fluffy sofa.

Eddie rolled his eyes and flopped down next to her. “They were friends before he took over the business. They had worked together in every job they’ve ever had so when he took over he put the one person he could trust in front of his office to shield himself from the assholes who make his life a living hell.”

Chrissy pursed her lips. “Fine.”

He kissed her cheek and went to go get the popcorn and candy.

“You ever going to tell this Steve you have a hard on for him?” she asked as he kept swapping bowls around for best placement.

“No,” Eddie said firmly. “Not while he’s paying me, anyway.”

She shrugged. “I guess that’s fair. It’s just...”

“That I have it so bad my only two thoughts are painting and Steve?” he finished for her.

“And me,” she agreed. “But pretty much.”

He put his head on her shoulder. “I’ve never fallen this hard for a person before. He’s sweet and funny and an absolute dork.”

Chrissy kissed the top of his head. “I’ll be good tonight. No bitching or being mean.”

Eddie snorted. “He’s also a queen bitch. So you can be you all you want. Just...”

She turned on the sofa, bringing her knees up to her chest. “But what?”

“When he starts gushing about something don’t...” he floundered for the right words. “Just don’t make him feel small about it.”

Chrissy tilted her head to side. “Has people made him feel small about his interests?”

Eddie nodded. “I think his parents were like yours, if I’m honest.”

“Rich, entitled assholes who wanted a doll and not a child?” she asked bitterly. He nodded. She sighed heavily. “Yeah okay. You got me. I know the signs and will adjust accordingly.”

He threw his arms around her and gave her a wet sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Just then the doorbell rang.

“They’re here,” Eddie said nervously.

Chrissy leaned down to look at him. “Do you want me to answer the door to give you a second to prepare?”

He nodded.

She gave his hands a squeeze and gracefully slid off the couch to do just that. She bounded over to the door and threw it open. And yeah, objectively she knew what Steve looked like, but seeing him out of his trademark blue power suit was a revelation. And immediately she got why Eddie fell hard for this guy.

He was wearing a David Bowie t-shirt from his Ziggy Stardust era and tight, light blue jeans. His sneakers were Nike’s, and his watch was Schwartz but those were the only major shows of wealth.

Next to him was not what she was expecting either. Chrissy was expecting someone more bookish. Glasses, frumpy. Or even the extreme opposite, a fashion plate. Someone who fit the sexy secretary stereotype. But nope.

She was fashionable, Chrissy had to give her that, but not in the way she thought. Billowy pants with a long-sleeved button up with sleeves rolled up to her elbows and pair of colorful suspenders. Her blonde hair was artfully tousled and she had freckles on her nose and cheeks.

In short, Chrissy was in love.

“Hi!” she greeted as though her heart wasn’t going to leap out of her chest to prostrate itself before this lovely maiden, only for her stomp all over it.

“Hey,” Steve smiled back. “You must be the agent/best friend, Chrissy I’ve been hearing so much about. It’s nice to put a name to the face.”

The woman elbows him. “Face to the name, dingus.”

Steve flushed. “I’m so glad I have you here to correct me.”

“Come on in,” Chrissy said warmly, moving out of the way for them to enter the loft. Inwardly she briefly wondered if maybe the best friend was the cause of the “limiting” as Eddie called it.

“Thanks!” he said and then pointed to the woman next to him. “This is Robin my platonic soulmate, best friend, and all around Stevie wrangler. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“Aww,” Robin said with a smile and hip check.

Steve stumbled but laughed, too.

By the time they reach the living area Chrissy still wasn’t sure what to think about these two.

Eddie leapt to his feet at the sight of them.

“Stevie! Robin!” he greeted brightly. “You found the place okay?”

Robin nodded. “I’m glad you gave us directions on top of the whole GPS otherwise we would have ended up in some cemetery.”

Chrissy grimaced. “Yeah. But that cemetery was here before the condos and high rises so I can’t complain. Even though I really, really want to.”

“How old is the cemetery?” Steve asked eagerly.

She looked over at Eddie for help. “I don’t actually know.”

“Uh...” Eddie said unhelpfully. “I don’t know exactly but I know it’s over a century old.”

Steve lit up. “That’s so cool.”

“You like old graveyards, Steve?” Chrissy asked. She sat down on the sofa and grabbed the bag of popcorn.

“Steve is obsessed with them,” Robin said playfully.

“Am not,” he said and then turned to Chrissy and Eddie. “I’m really not. I just think it’s super neat.”

“What makes them so neat?” Eddie asked, taking the beer from Steve and setting it on the table with the array of goodies.

“Like seeing a bunch of people with similar death years knowing that it was because of a pandemic,” Steve said. “Or on Memorial Day going to see all the American flags for those that died during war time. It’s all just endlessly fascinating.”

“I could take you some time,” Eddie said. “Have a picnic lunch, make a day out of it.”

“You’d do that?” he asked eagerly.

Chrissy bumped Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie here likes graveyards because they’re spooky.”

Steve laughed. “That’s a great reason to like graveyards.”

They settled down to watch the movies Eddie had picked out for them. A double feature of “The Hobbit” and “The Return of the King”.

“Holy shit!” Steve said afterwards. “How did they get more faithful to the books in less time than Peter Jackson?”

Eddie laughed. “Good story telling.”

They finally left for the night and Eddie closed the door behind them.

“Thoughts?” Eddie asked.

“And prayers,” Chrissy said. “Holy fuck do you have it bad. And I’ll swear under oath that if there is a god, he made Steve especially for you.”

He blushed. “Fuck, you can’t say that.”

“Why not?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

“Because it feels that way for me, too,” he whined, “and if you think that too, then I’m royally fucked.”

Chrissy sighed. “Yeah.”

***

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

[dwtdog]

fem dnf week dayyyyy 6 :D

--

“Hey, wake up.”

Someone is shaking George’s shoulder. She should kill them. She tries- reaching for the bow that lies beside her, dismayed when her fingers only grasp empty air. Plan B, then. 

She opens her eyes, and all the fight drains from her when she sees a mask hovering above her, bone white, carved with the visage of a smile. “Dream,” she groans, rolling over and away from the other girl. “Fuck off.”

“But you said we could start early today,” Dream whines. 

“And whose quest is this?” she shoots back, pulling her knees to her chest and screwing her eyes shut, begging sleep to come back for her. 

“Yours,” Dream answers dutifully, tugging at George’s blanket. “But you said-”

“Don’t care. Sleeping now.”

“Fine,” Dream huffs, and there’s a crunch of dirt beneath her boots when she stands. “I’ll go hunting then.” And she stomps off, footsteps heavy as always. 

George relaxes, doing her best to ignore how little her meager traveling sleep pad does to protect her from the hard ground, how the sun is already glowering through the dense trees and into her eyes. She’s mostly unsuccessful- her body seems to have decided, without her permission, that it’s time to be awake- and her limbs seem to itch with the need to move. 

And she is on a quest, after all. 

So she sits up, rubbing sleep from her eyes and stretching her legs out in front of her, socked feet emerging from the end of her blanket. Their camp is a bit of a mess- last night's fire reduced to a blackened pile of ash, Dream’s bedding left messy and uneven a few feet from George’s. 

George should hate her. Dream wakes her up early, leaves camp to chase small mammals and comes back with nothing because she doesn’t want to hurt them, and is, overall, a pain in George’s ass. But there’s a strange kindling of fondness that curls in her stomach when she thinks of the other girl and her charming voice, her strange enthusiasm for anything and everything. 

So they travel together. George’s grand solo quest, featuring Dream, the girl she’d met in a village one over from hers and who she hadn’t been able to shake since. 

In the spirit of getting a move on, George begins the process of cleaning their camp up. It’s easy enough to pack hers and Dream’s things up, distributed evenly- okay, evenly-ish- between the two of their large packs. She kicks dirt over the fire, and picks up a few errant pieces of trash, all before Dream returns from wherever she’d wandered off to- in fact, George manages to count their rations out twice over and split out the mornings before Dream returns. 

When she does, George fights back the bubbly feeling that spawns in her chest. It’s stupid. She really, really doesn’t have time for it. So she just nods to Dream, handing her rations over and munching on her own. The tough meat never gets any better.

“I saw something,” Dream says after a beat, her mouth half full of bread, her mask raised half way so she can eat. George glares at her, and she dutifully shuts her mouth. She makes a big show of chewing and swallowing, sticking her tongue out at George before continuing. “There’s a mountain to the east.”

George groans. “Seriously? Are we lost, then?” They aren’t supposed to come to a mountain for another few days yet, and George isn’t exactly eager, or ready, to climb one.

“I don’t think so,” Dream says, shaking her head and staring off in what George assumes is the direction of the mountain. “I think it’s new.”

“New?” George asks, eyebrows drawing together. 

“I can’t explain but just- I’ll show you. When we’re done eating,” Dream shoves the rest of her bread in her mouth and George makes a point to not watch. It doesn’t matter that she likes the way the muscles in Dream’s neck move when she chews, or that she finds the way her emotions play out so clearly across the lower half of her face terribly endearing. She’s on a quest, damn it. To kill a dragon.

She mulls over what Dream had said- a new mountain? It doesn’t make any sense- but George trusts her. There’s been more than one instance through the course of their journey where Dream’s intuition has saved their skin, and George isn’t about to stop trusting it now.

But if she’s right- is it a good sign? A mountain popping up out of nowhere certainly seems like dragon magic, something deep and ancient and tied intrinsically to the land. But George has never heard of something like this, even with all the research she’s done on dragons. Documented dragon magic is usually comprised of cities water becoming poisonous, or animals behaving strangely. A whole mountain- that would be a damn powerful dragon.

“Ready?” George asks when she’s done with her own food, smiling slightly when Dream nods enthusiastically, jumping up from the stump she’d been using as a chair. “Then let’s go.”

The walk through the woods is nice, in a way. The early days of summer ensure that the air in the woods is just warm enough that both of the girls can shed their coats, storing them in their packs, but not so hot that they sweat, even as they walk and walk. 

“You got this far?” George asks after a few hours, when the sun has fully risen in the sky. Dream stumbles next to her, even though their path is clear of any roots or rocks.

“Uh- Not quite,” she says, clearing her throat. “I- I climbed a tree. To see.”

“Oh,” George shrugs, filing the information away in her Dream memories- which there are a normal amount of. Obviously. “Do you think we’re close, then?”

“I’m not sure,” Dream admits, running her hand along the bark of a tree as she passes it. A bird sings overhead, its song trilling and bright. Dream whistles back, a surprisingly good recreation. 

George just watches, eyes tracing Dream’s broad shoulders as she goes back and forth with the bird. She looks beautiful, George admits to herself, with the dappled patches of light bouncing off her golden hair, echoes of a smile in the way she practically skips along the path, although the damn mask blocks any actual sighting of it.

She’s not sure how long they spend like that, but she does know the moment they reach the clearing, because Dream gasps, loud and dramatic. “George, look.”

And George gasps too, when she sees it.

The gap in the trees that the path follows opens into a large clearing, the beginning of an entirely new biome, devoid of the tall trees they’ve traveled under for the past week. This one is far more rugged, the trees scraggly and clinging to rock faces, looking to be one bad day away from wilting away. And the landscape itself- a rocky mess, of canyons and hills, all accentuated by the enormous mountain jutting from the earth.

And George knows what Dream had meant when she said the mountain was new. It looks unnatural, as if it had been pulled from the ground rather than built over time by the movement of the earth. It makes George uneasy, and she runs a hand down the wood of her bow to ground herself.

“Shit,” she says, holding a hand up to shield her eyes and look further across the landscape, for a way around the mountain. 

“Shit,” Dream echoes, shifting on her feet next to George. Out of the corner of her eye, George can see Dream’s hand resting on her axe, fingers tense around the handle. “It’s even worse from up close.”

“You feel it too?” George asks, unsurprised. She’s always been shit at recognizing magic, but if this place is making her feel uneasy- Dream’s sixth sense, or whatever the hell it is, must be going nuts. 

Dream steps closer to George, and their shoulders brush as Dream steps in front of her, as if to protect her from whatever it is that’s got both of them on edge. It should piss George off- she doesn’t need anyone's protection, thank you very much- but her traitorous body reignites that curl of affection, and George is terrified that she might be blushing. 

“I do,” Dream answers, a beat too late. “It’s- bad. We should turn around.”

“What?” George yelps, stepping away from Dream in an instant, all vestiges of affection vanishing in an instant. “Fuck no- It took us a week to get through that forest, no way in hell-”

“George,” Dream says, turning so they’re face to face. Dream is quite a bit taller than George, and she uses it to her advantage now. “This place isn’t safe. There’s- There’s bad magic at play here.”

“I don’t care, Dream,” George grits out, attempting to step around her. Dream mimics her movement, staying firmly in front. “Do I need to remind you again that this is my quest?” Dream flinches, shoulders shaking with it, and George presses.  “So let me through. Turn back, if you’re so scared.”

“I’m not scared for me, idiot,” Dream says back. 

And George shuts her out. It had been one thing, to drop the walls she’d built bit by bit, for a strange girl in a small village, who she spent every hour of every day with, learning to trust, learning to love- but she was just like everyone else. 

“Fuck you,” George shoves past Dream, uncaring of her footing as she breaks into a run, away, away, away. Dream is shouting after her, following, but George refuses to look back. She can’t- she thinks she might break, if she does. 

There’s a moment, before the world goes dark, where Dream’s shouting turns panicked, where the gait of her footsteps changes from a run to a sprint. And there’s a moment, barely there, where George feels something grow behind her, power hitting her like a roaring river. And then her vision goes black.

--

She wakes in a dark room, windowless. For a moment, she thinks that she and Dream must have stopped in a village for a night, begged for a room. But then reality comes crashing down- she remembers their fight, and running, and- nothing. 

When she tries to move, she’s surprised to find herself unrestricted, and she quickly stands from the chair, ignoring the ache of sore muscles. There’s a door across from her, wooden and strong looking, and the handle is locked when she tries it. It fits the frame near perfectly, and lets in no light.

That realization is what makes her look up, toward the ceiling, for the source of the light in the room- and she finds something. A floating ball, near the top of the pointed ceiling, bobbing slightly in place. It’s unsettling to look at, the wrongness of it churning George’s stomach. 

She starts to examine the room in earnest, running her hands over every inch of the wall she can reach, kicking at the corners where the walls meet each other and the floor. She finds nothing. No cracks, no seams, not even a damn crumb. 

She’s trapped. With a deep breath to steady her shaking hands, she sits on the floor in the middle of the room, facing the door. And she waits.

There’s no concept of time in a windowless room. The floating light is unchanging, set in its bobbing. The room is soundless, free of the creak of an old building or the bustle of a strong wind. It’s only her, and her thoughts, crowding the room until she can hardly breathe with how thick the air feels. 

And only then, when she’s on the edge of succumbing to panic, her stomach aching with hunger, does the door creep open.

It’s as silent as everything else, and she thinks, for a moment, that she must be hallucinating.

But the creature that steps through the door is like nothing George’s mind could conjure- a beast of a man, his shoulders scraping the sides of the doorframe as he steps through it, his face just close enough to human that it’s unsettling- the eyes, George realizes, peering out of a reptilian face, are human. 

A hybrid, then. George has met a few, when they’d come through town. Her parents had always warned her to be careful around them, that their animal instincts made them dangerous. And she’d always done her best to ignore them- going out of her way to greet every one she’d met with genuine kindness, and a healthy dose of curiosity.

But none of them had been like this- hulking and winged, George realizes with a start as she scrambles backward until her back is pressed to the wall, breaths coming short and shallow in fear. 

His wings unfurl further as he steps into the room, dwarfing him in size, cramped in the small room. They’re dark, tinted green under the mysterious light, and scaly. Nothing like the avians she’d met, their wings vast but feathered, dainty. 

“You’re a brave thing, coming through these lands,” he rumbles, voice low and raspy. It echoes under the vaulted ceiling, and George’s nails dig into her palms. “Most would have turned back.”

“Who are you,” George demands, summoning all her bravado. “Why am I here?” He laughs, and the sound grates on George’s ears. She thinks, foolishly, of Dream’s wheezing laugh, her soft giggles. And she stands.

“Don’t do anything foolish,” he says, shifting his hand to rest it on the handle of an absurdly large sword attached to his hip. “Why don’t you sit down, be a nice little human.”

George, shaking with fear, squares her shoulders. “No.”

“Well, alright then,” he answers with a shrug. “I suppose you won’t be getting any answers then.”

“I-” she starts, ready to throw every insult under the sun at the beast. But he cuts her off.

“Oh, shush. I thought you’d recognize me, at least. I am the subject of your quest, after all,” he says it with a smile that crawls across his face like a thing with too many legs, jerky and unsettling. 

“A dragon,” George breathes, fear stealing further into her heart. “So the mountain was dragon magic.”

“Indeed,” the dragon lifts a hand, sharp, dark nails terribly visible. “But I’m only half a dragon. It’s why I can only get this far,” he gestures to his body, twitches his wings. “A full dragon could look just like you- they’ve perfected the art of mimicking humans.”

A chill runs down George’s spine, terribly sobering. The rumors were true, then. 

“What do you want from me?” she demands, leaving no room for the man to argue. It’s an art she’s perfected, too used to being shut down in meetings, in hunting groups. “Why am I here? And why are you telling me this?”

“I was curious,” he says with a shrug. “A small thing like you, setting out to kill a dragon? Surely, she must be crazy is what I thought. And now I’ve met you, I don’t think I was wrong.”

“Curious,” George spits. “You can’t just kidnap people because you’re curious.”

“Oh, but it does get so lonely out here. Excuse my bad manners,” he waves a hand, and George jumps. “I wasn’t going to keep you for long. I do so terribly need to see if you are able to kill a dragon.”

“And why shouldn’t I kill you?” 

He laughs, again, and George really wishes he would stop doing it. “With what weapon, human? Your bow and those clever little arrows are safely outside of this room.”

“I’ll find a way,” George’s eyes dart to the open door, hidden behind the half-dragon and his daunting wings. He watches her with amusement.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he says. “I could just keep you here, you know. As fun as it would be to watch you fail to slay a dragon.”

“You don’t know anything-” George starts, tensing the muscles in her legs as she prepares to make a move, to duck under those wings and out the door. But before she can even finish speaking, the walls crumble around them.

George throws her hands up, pushing her back against the last standing wall at her side. The room is filled with dust and light that burns George’s eyes, adjusted as she is to a low quantity of it. 

Her captor is just as startled as she is, his wings fully splayed out and teeth bared with the great sword in his hands. But his gaze is errant, darting around the remains of the room, looking for what- or who- had caused the chaos, just as George is.

She finds it first, when her eyes lift to the sky, now dotted with stars and the creeping light of dawn. There’s a shadow circling over them, purple mist clinging to great beating wings, far dwarfing those of the man on the ground. He looks up as well when the beast above them roars, and the giant of a man whimpers, sword clattering as it drops to the ground.

A dragon. 

And not the half-formed kind she’s just met- this one is all harsh lines and power, radiating off it like sea mist splashing against cliffs. It’s terrifying, in a way that sets George’s heart to a quickened beat, loud as the sound of beating wings. 

The dragon is coming toward them, she realizes a second to late, throwing her arms up again as it lands with a thud that shakes the very foundation of the earth, eyes glowing a brilliant purple. And its gaze is on the half-dragon, teeth bared stark white against the black of its scales. 

And the other dragon flees. His wings beat erratically as he takes off, sword left in the rubble. The black dragon watches him go, before turning its gaze to George.

George dives for the sword the same moment the dragon opens its mouth, wanting, if anything, to die with a weapon in her hand. 

But what comes out of the dragon's mouth isn’t fiery breath, or purple poison, but a strangely familiar voice. “George!”

George, oversized sword clutched in both hands as she stares down the terrible nightmare of a beast using the voice of her companion, thinks she must be dreaming. She’ll wake back in camp, with Dream muttering in her sleep just a bit away from her. George will sigh, and brush the hair from her face with a soft hand, will watch with a fond smile as Dream chases the warmth of her hand even in sleep. Will think longingly of kissing lips she rarely sees, hidden as they are by a carved mask.

“I’m going to kill you,” George declares, using all the strength in her arms and back to lift the sword. She stares the dragon down, feet planted firmly beneath her.

And the dragon tilts its head like a lost puppy, tucking its wings to its body and shuffling its feet. “Ah- Please don’t.”

It’s that voice again. Dream’s. “Stop that,” George demands. “That voice isn’t yours.”

“But- Oh. Oh fuck,” the dragon swears, and that’s- a first, honestly. The first dragon had acted more dragon-like, until the whole cowering in fear thing. This one is just weird. 

“Well, if you want to just sit there and let me kill you-” George says, stepping forward. Her arms burn, but adrenaline keeps them steady. “Then I’m not one to protest. I’ll have plenty of time to make up a better story on the way home.”

“You really shouldn’t,” it says, taking a few steps back. George fills the distance with a confident stride, eyes scanning dark scales for a weak point. “Like, you really, really shouldn’t.”

“And why is that, beast,” George asks, calm as day. The sun is rising behind the dragon, and George can admit that its a beautiful creature. “Make your last words good ones.”

“Okay. Okay, first of all,” the dragon says, and it sounds so much like Dream. From tone to delivery, every word is just- Dream. And it’s really throwing George off. “You would not be able to kill me,” George huffs at this, advancing a step further. “And second of all. You’re an idiot.”

And George freezes. Because she can understand everything else- a dragon who speaks like Dream, sure. But the way it had said that word- “Dream?” George whispers, the tip of her stolen sword dropping to the ground. 

The dragon’s- Dream’s?- body relaxes, a familiar roiling laugh coming from it- her. “I thought you’d never- George, you wouldn’t really kill me. Right?”

And George really wishes she hadn’t asked that question. Because she can accept, in the moment,  that her traveling companion was a dragon the whole time, sure. But thinking further- to what that means for her quest, for her life- isn’t something she’s prepared to do. 

“I don’t- Know?” She offers, fully setting the sword down despite her words. Dream sits back on her haunches, exhaling a bit of purple breath. 

“Well, that’s a start,” Dream says with a bit of a laugh. “Just warn me if you do decide, okay? It’s only fair.”

“Uh- Sure,” George sits heavily, head spinning. The words Dream and dragon seem to be chasing around her mind in a game of cat and mouse, scrambling all other thoughts. “Why didn’t you just- turn? When I was threatening to kill you?”

“Oh,” Dream ducks her head, and George thinks she would be blushing, if she weren’t a dragon. “I’d be naked.”

And that breaks George. The stress of the day- night- comes out in a choking laugh that makes it hurt to breathe, her chest shaking with it. She can feel Dream watching her, gaze hot on her skin, and George lets everything sink in as she falls apart. 

“I’m sorry,” she says when her laughter trails off into the early morning air. “For not listening to you.”

“Oh- Well, I’m sorry for not telling you how I knew it was bad. And for keeping such a big secret from you.” 

“We’re even then?” George offers.

“I mean- I feel like I’m getting the better end of the deal here-”

“Yeah, well, you did kind of save me,” she says with a shrug. “That gets you a few points, I guess.”

Dream’s scaly face twists, and George thinks she must be smiling. She shouldn’t be endeared by a fucking dragon, but here she it. It’s easier to admit that sort of thing when she’s as tired as she is.

“Can you just- tune back,” George asks, tentative. “You can have my cloak.”

“I- I guess. But you have to promise to close you’re eyes.”

George rolls her eyes, but obeys, taking her cloak off and placing it between them before turning away and screwing her eyes shut. While she waits, she thinks of her pack, and hopes they’ll be able to find it somewhere- surely the dumbass of a hybrid couldn’t have hidden it too far. 

“Wait,” George says suddenly, voice rising. “Was I trapped in a fucking castle?” she opens her eyes, looking around for the first time since the room had been destroyed. 

And it’s true. A shitty castle, made shittier by Dream destroying it with her awesome dragon powers, but a castle nonetheless. George groans.

“What?” Dream asks, voice much closer than before. George turns to see her standing, now human again, and several things hit George at once. One- Dream doesn’t have the mask on. She’s- She’s gorgeous, unfortunately for George’s heart, and she’s looking at George with a teasing light in her eyes that George has heard a million times in her voice, but never gotten to see.

And two, Dream is wearing George’s cloak. 

It fits her tightly, and she has to hold it closed, but the sight makes George’s head spin. It’s way more skin than she’s ever seen from the other girl, tanned arms on full display and ankles sticking out where the cloak falls too short- and George physically can’t look away. 

But Dream seems totally casual as she continues- “You didn’t want to be the damsel in distress? The princess in the tower?”

“I could still kill you,” George grunts, meeting Dream’s eyes with a grin. Unlike her dragon form, Dream’s human eyes are gold, shining like coins in the morning light. “Would be too easy, probably.”

“Sure you could,” Dream teases. “But you’ll never be able to forget who saved who.”

“Oh, shut up,” George groans, dragging her eyes away from Dream and looking again at the mess around them. The ruins of the castle look decrepit, as if it had been destroyed decades ago rather than in the same hour.

“Dragon magic,” Dream says, as if noticing George’s attention. “The castle was tied to his- it’ll fade away now that he’s fled.”

“Huh,” George hums, kicking a stone and watching as it rolls down the mountain, eroding to nothing before it reaches half way. “And I suppose that’s why we couldn’t se it before? Dragon magic?”

“No, that was just a normal cloaking spell,” Dream says it bitterly. “Strong one, though. Took me a while to find you, sorry about that.”

“I had it under control.”

“I believe you,” Dream says, stepping closer and nudging George with her shoulder. “You totally could have killed that guy. I just came in and ruined your moment.”

George shoves her back. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! I swear, on my life, I wasn’t. I really think you could have killed him.”

“Fine. Say I believe you. What’s with the whole damsel in distress thing? That a fantasy for you?” She means it as a tease, but she knows there’s some truth to the words- having traveled with Dream long enough, it would be hard not to notice the little things. Like her eagerness to save George from even the smallest of worries. 

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re not getting something out of this too. I saw your face when you saw me with your cloak on,” Dream grins wolfishly, which is ironic for a dragon. George hates her. “Me, all cozy in your clothes.”

“I wouldn’t say cozy,” George deadpans. “Looks like your one strong wind away from losing it.”

“And I’m sure you’d hate that,” Dream says, stepping closer. She’s fully in George’s space now, and George has to tilt her chin back to look up at her. 

Even with her heart racing in her chest, George keeps her voice flat. “I only just saw your face, idiot. I don’t need to see the rest of you.”

“Bet you’d like to, though.”

“Sounds like projection to me,” George’s eyes drop to Dream’s lips. She thinks of her as a dragon, her teeth so white and sharp, and something in her chest aches with want. 

Dream’s face is closer, suddenly, her eyes big and gold, her lips pink and so near to George’s that a phantom feeling crawls across her skin, and she can feel the ghost of the kiss before the real thing steals her breath away.

Dream kisses like she fights- too defensive, too giving to the motion of her opponent. George it, hooking her arms around Dream’s neck and pulling her closer, moving her lips against Dream’s like an arrow set free, unrestrained and searching. 

It’s George who pulls away first, gasping for air. Dream just stares, eyes impossibly wide, lips parted still.

“Never kissed a dragon before,” George grins. “Maybe it’s better than killing one. Can never be sure now, I guess.”

And Dream kisses her again.

[suginami-division]

A knock is heard on the door of the Umemoto residence. Opening the door reveals Kaoru Shinozaki and Kanra Akemi, the latter holding quite a few boxes in her arms. 

“Happy Birthday Ryuko!” Kaoru greeted giving the animator a two-finger salute. 

"Ryuko-san! Happy Birthday!" Kanra loudly cheered, lifting her arms and showing Ryuko the multiple boxes they had brought with them.

Walking inside Kanra gently placed the boxes on the kitchen counter. Turing around Kanra walked over to Ryuko and gave him a giant hug lifting him off the ground a few inches. Ryuko couldn't help but wheeze as he felt his spine cracking in several places. 

“Kanra! Put him down! He can't afford the medical bills if you break his spine.” Kaoru scolded. 

“Oops! Sorry!” Kanra apologized and put the animator down. 

“Alright Kanra why don't you get set up what you brought and I’ll give Ryuko his gifts.” Kaoru reminded the pink haired girl.

“Kay,” Kanra replied, picking up a few of the boxes leaving only the gifts behind, and walking into Ryuko’s kitchen. 

“Alright, Ryuko Kanra’s got something planned for ya but first gifts!” Kaoru cackled picking up the biggest of the gifts and placing the box in Ryuko’s hands.

Opening the gift reveals a brand-new coffee machine. One that looked particularly fancy to Ryuko considering the touch screen it had on it. 

“Hope you can put it to good use. Your current one looks like it's about to die.” Kaoru eyed the current machine in Ryuko’s kitchen. Looking at it like it had offended her. Picking up the next Kaoru passed it to Ryuko.

Opening the gift reveals a brand new drawing tablet and matching stylus. 

“Ta-da! Built by yours truly and is infinitely times better than anything out on the market right now. I included a few features such as a 3D hologram mode which allows you to view your art in a 3D hologram. Heck, I even made it so that you can draw on the hologram.” Kaoru finished with a huge grin on her face as she explained her work.

“I have one more gift for you. It's not really physical tho.” Kaoru told Ryuko, pulling out her phone and typing on it for a second. 

Hearing his phone ping Ryuko pulled it out of his pocket and his eyes nearly bulged out of his skull when he saw a notification that said someone had just deposited 10,000$ dollars directly into his bank account. Ryuko quicked turned his gaze back to Kaoru and saw that she had an amused look on her face. 

“Just a little something from me Ryuko. Use it for a vacation it looks like you really need one. I hear Disneyland Tokyo is pretty good this time of year.” Kaoru winked. “Also, Ryuko I’m sure you have some experience with this considering your last…job but don't ask where the money came from… plausible deniability ya know?” Kaoru smiled giving Ryuko’s shoulder a quick pat.

“I'm done!” Kanra shouted from the kitchen.

“Oh good Kanra made you something. She thinks you eat too many frozen meals to be healthy.”  Kaoru responded pushing Ryuko toward his kitchen.

Walking into his tiny kitchen Ryuko was surprised to see both his counters and table covered in all sorts of homemade traditional foods. Ryuko’s stomach growled as he saw all the dishes in front of him. It all smelled good to him. 

What had caught his eye though was the cake in the middle of the table. It was white and with eastern golden dragons wrapped around the sides. 

“Kanra how much food did you make?” Kaoru wondered seeing that Kanra had basically taken over the tiny kitchen with how many premade dishes she had brought with her.

“Just the normal amount of food I usually make plus extra for leftovers for Ryuko-san. Why? Did I go overboard?”  Kanra questioned taking out another dish from the boxes she had brought.

“Kanra this enough to feed a small army.” Kaoru sighed, turning her head to look at Ryuko. “Oi! Ryuko call the rest of your team. Your gonna need all the help you can to eat all of this food. Even then I think there's gonna be food leftover.”

“H-Huh? Oh, it’s you guys thank you-Ah, you’re coming in?”

Ryuko seemed taken aback by the sudden surprise. As the two walked into his small apartment, the man could only shrug and close the door behind them and follow the two inside. His path was quickly interrupted by Kanra turning around from the stack of boxes she had brought in to give him a hug. Well, her way of hugging.

The poor man was unable to utter a word as he felt several things in his body get crushed (something might have snapped too). Thankfully, Kaoru was there to mediate not without punching him down verbally by insulting his income.

“F-Fuck both of you…” Ryuko rasps out as soon as he falls to his knees in the middle of his hallway. It wasn’t without him recovering quickly, coughing out his lungs from the deprivation of air he had experienced. “Those other gifts better not be some sort of weapon to torture me.”

Sitting down with Kaoru, Ryuko figured he might as well entertain these two intruders in his home. They were after all, meaning well by giving him a lot of birthday gifts… And with how Ryuko was doing, he wasn’t one to turn down free stuff, especially on his birthday. Opening the first one, he was surprised to see a new coffee machine. Sleek, modern and a touch screen? This was a lifesaver for him, with his old one beginning to break down. Kaoru of course had no hesitation to point that out, with Ryuko could only respond with a glare at the hacker.

With the next gift, Ryuko was surprised to receive such a futuristic tablet and pen. Being used to using an ordinary drawing tablet or even screens like at his work, a hologram feature in a tablet was really something else. “Fuck, Shuu was right when saying you go all out with these tech gifts. But, you gotta show me how the hologram shit works Kaoru. I’m not that familiar with this type of tech.”

“Wait, that’s not all?” Ryuko responded when Kaoru decided to add in one more detail. As the ping rang on his cracked phone rang out, his jaw just dropped at what appeared across his screen. Completely speechless, all Ryuko could do was nod at Kaoru’s request to not ask where the money came from.

At this point of their visit, Ryuko could hardly make any snappy remarks at Kaoru’s comments about his living style. Pushing the now dumbstruck animator into the kitchen, he was only able to continue to stare at the array of food Kanra had managed to set out for him. All their banter faded into the background as his brain tried to catch up with what was happening. He was only snapped out of his revere when Kaoru shouted out at him to call his team, which he dumbly nodded in acknowledgement, before walking out of the kitchen in a daze.

Ring… Ring… Click!

“Ryu-chan! Hey, hey! What’s up?” Shuu’s cheerful voice responded once Ryuko had managed to dial his number.

“Shuu…”

“Huh? Ryuko, what’s wrong?” Shuu’s tone quickly grew concerned when Ryuko answered in such an odd way. “Did something happen?”

“N-No nothing bad. Just…” Ryuko started to process everything and rubbed his eyes, feeling odd. “The Edogawa team girls, minus the scary leader came over and they made food.”

“Oh! Kao-chan and Kan-chan? Aww! That sounds nice!”

“Yeah, there’s too much so could you call Maki and get over here? We’re going to need help.”

“Oki-doki!” The detective chirps. “But hey, are you okay? You sound a bit… Sniffly?”

“Shit, sorry.” Ryuko coughs, “You know how Kanra is. I think something went out of place… I’ll probably need Maki’s help to fix whatever it is.”

“...Really?” an unconvinced voice responds.

“Really. Now quit fucking stalling and get over here. I'm fucking starving and I don't wanna wait forever for both of your asses.”

“Hehe, okay! I’ll be there in 10!” And with a click, Shuu had hung up, no doubt doing just as Ryuko had requested.

Now left with a more clear head, Ryuko took a deep breath. This was a lot for him, for these team members to do so much for him, despite being rivals. It was going to take awhile for him to process the thoughts and feelings he was experiencing but for now…

“Fuck it, I’ll enjoy myself a bit!”

[avenyl]

Hello.

Is saying hello even appropriate at this point?

Uh, hi. I’m not back yet, I think. But I’m working on it. I’m sorry for the radio silence on literally every front but I’d be lying if I said I knew why it happened.

I just want you all to know what’s up in case that’s something you’re curious about. For those who are, read on. Those of you who aren’t, that’s alright. I’m glad to have you around anyway.

TL;DR I tell you what’s up but in like, ~700 words because I have no self-control.

I’m pretty sure my last login was sometime around February 2022. Can’t believe it’s been over a year and a half! Feels so weird to acknowledge that I’ve been away from art, something that’s been a constant in my life up until this point, for almost two years! Wow!

Those of you who saw the last of my posts already know what my mindset was like at the time. Honestly, I can’t really say it’s improved much, if any. Looking at the art I’ve put out so far makes me feel miserable, for a lack of better word. I’m not gonna elaborate on the feelings because I’m certain all of you have had them at some point. I had hoped they would vanish in time, but they did not.

I can’t tell if these feelings are related to what was going on in my life at the time (they probably are but I haven’t connected the dots yet), mostly because I don’t feel like anything particularly bad happened that could’ve boosted these feelings for me. In fact, a lot of good things happened. Some bad things happened too, as they usually do in life. So, to spare you the details:

-I met someone and we’ve been in a relationship sinch March 2022 (he’s great and we’ve been living together for almost a year now);

-I failed to graduate in 2022 but I managed to fix that at the beginning of July this year (finally!);

-I worked three different jobs in the meantime (not simultaneously) to afford rent, and those took up most of my energy;

-I’ve been on and off different meds while trying to figure out what works for me;

-A lot of family-related events happened in the year I’ve been gone and I’m sure there’s more to come;

-I’ve been reading a lot, and I honestly feel like that sort of became my outlet when drawing felt like too big of a challenge;

-I’ve become even less interested in pursuing the major I’ve been working towards so far, and I’ve decided to stop at my bachelor’s and maybe try my hand at some other profession somewhere along the line.

The last one did me in, honestly. Seeing all my colleagues and friends graduate while I sat back really took a toll on me and I don’t think I’ll be able to recover from that one for a while. The inferiority I felt regarding my art and the progress I’ve made so far combined with not being able to do the one thing everybody around me seemed to be able to do almost effortlessly and, well… it didn’t feel very good.

I believe this is what made me disappear. Honestly though, I’m not 100% sure—it could’ve been something else, and it feels weird to blame my sudden departure on something like my mental state, given that I don’t feel much different now, and I didn’t feel particularly different then. Just existing and getting by has been challenging for years.

But I feel like I might be ready to try drawing again sometime soon. I’ll probably expand my horizons a bit. Don’t get me wrong, dragons are fun and I won’t give up on those, but you’ll probably be seeing a bit more variation from me in the future. I might even give humans a go! Oh boy!

(Not yet though. But soon, hopefully.)

Lastly, I think I want to rebrand my online presence. I feel like I’ve changed quite a bit since I opted for this username, and it no longer feels like me. So, if you see a stranger on your dash, fear not! It’s probably me, trying out something new. I think that’s going to be my first move.

It’s a start. It’s more than I’ve had for over two years, and I might just give it a go. I hope to see you along the way!

[theotherackerman]

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan, Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, A Song of Ice and Fire

NOTES: Just an fyi, this may or may not be the last chapter before I have a bunch of personal things happening. I’ll keep you all updated though. Enjoy! It’s a long one covering several days!

Chapter Seven:  Sit Back and Look for the Warnings

Fighting against Mikasa was like fighting against a viper. 

A viper that was set on fire which Eren realized was almost a dragon. 

Her sword was faster than his. Every clash took a toll on Eren’s body. He should have used a smaller sword for this but no, he had to use the Valyrian steel bastard sword. 

In theory, it was a good idea, keeping her away from him. 

It didn’t matter. 

Every clash of steel on steel rang out. 

Eren was certain that Mikasa was going to draw first blood. 

He’d be surprised if she didn’t.

Then she essentially ran her face too close to his sword.

Red.

Blood.

There was blood on her face.

Blood on his sword.

Mikasa’s blood. 

Eren felt sick. 

He hadn’t meant to physically hurt her. 

He’d fallen for her trick and somehow, she’d been the one who got hurt. 

Her hand reached for the cut on her cheek and she looked at it. 

Blood. 

There were several ways this could go now. 

But what happened next, Eren wasn’t prepared for. 

Mikasa bowed at the waist and strolled away, leaving him shocked and confused. 

No one said anything to him.

He watched as Levi and Mikasa’s ladies followed. 

This is why he hadn’t wanted the duel. 

Now this was going to make everything…..

Eren didn’t know. 

He didn’t know what to think or do. 

Zeke walked up to him and put his hand on Eren’s shoulder. 

“You sink. You should take a bath,” Zeke informed him. 

Eren stowed his sword into the scabbard and headed back to the castle. 

————

Mikasa had returned to her chambers. Levi and her friends followed. Mikasa sat in one of the chairs around the table in the sitting room outside of their bedrooms. Levi had got wound cleaning materials which sat on the table. Annie and Sasha sat on the chaise. Levi kneeled in front of Mikasa. 

Levi ran a wet cloth over Mikasa’s cut, cleaning the wound. 

It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches but there was still the possibility of it scarring. 

Levi applied firemilk to the wound, cleansing it a final time. 

Sasha made a face as Mikasa stayed perfectly still. “I don’t know how you handle that. It stings.”

“You get used to it,” Mikasa shrugged. 

“When we get home, we’re working on your swordplay. That was a move a squire would make. I taught you better than that. What am I always telling you? Stop letting your emotions take over. You could have lost an eye or worse,” Levi scolded her. “Why do we wear leather?” 

“Because we’re supposed to be too fast to catch,” Mikasa mumbled. 

“You may have been too fast but you were also reckless and not paying attention.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mikasa apologized as she looked down. 

Levi sighed, “I can’t even be mad at you because you already received your punishment.”

“I hate to ask but should we worry about Kiyomi?” Annie asked. 

Levi shook his head, “it was fair. Mikasa called the duel and made the rules. Kiyomi can’t do anything without causing more issues for herself. Not that I think she would at this point.”

“If anything, it would give her the final excuse to remove me completely as her heir,” Mikasa noted. 

“Do you think Eren will talk to you now or will this have made it worse?” Sasha asked. 

“I’m sure we’ll soon find out,” Levi smirked. 

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. She knew Levi knew more than he let on. 

“I’ll grab your clothes from the dragon pit. I’m going to check on them,” Levi said as he rose from his position in front of Mikasa. 

“I’ll go with you. Kayda will not listen to you if she is angry.” 

“She won’t listen to me if she is not angry,” Levi rolled his eyes. 

“I will go get changed. Come meet back here?” Mikasa asked as she rose from her seat. 

“Yes. Maybe a certain prince will come check on you while I’m gone. I can’t deal with….whatever this is that you two are doing. I’ll give his parents the go ahead to tell him,” Levi walked towards the door. 

Mikasa took a deep breath. 

Things were going to get more interesting. 

—---------------------------------

Kayda was in a mood. 

The dragon clearly didn’t like being kept in the dragon pit. 

The guards outside had no idea what to do. So they just stood watch outside of the gates, not allowing anyone but Ackermans inside. 

Mikasa and Levi strolled up the path. 

“I forgot how much I hate guards,” Levi muttered under his breath. 

“They’re just doing their jobs,” Mikasa reassured him. 

“I know but I’m the last person who needs to be guarded,” Levi stated. 

Vulcan roared as they got closer. 

“The dragons hate being in the pit,” Mikasa noted.

“That they do. Kayda’s flying circles,” Levi noted as he pointed to the glass dome of the dragon pit. 

Mikasa looked up and sure enough, Kayda was flying in circles. The guard opened the gates and the Ackermans walked in. The guards that had been escorting them waited outside of the gate.

Levi pushed the doors to the dragon pit open.

Vulcan roared again once he saw his rider.

“Lykirī, Vulcan. Lykirī,” Levi commanded. 

Kayda continued her circles, even after she noticed Mikasa. 

“I may need to take him out for a ride before dinner,” Levi said as he tried to calm Vulcan down. “Lykirī, Vulcan. Dohaerās!” 

The dragon immediately calmed down, looking at his rider. 

“He really doesn’t like being in here,” Mikasa replied.

“He’s just restless. I’m taking him out. I’ll be back.”

Mikasa nodded as she watched Levi disappear down one of the halls that led to the back rooms. She looked to Kayda who was still flying around the top of the glass dome. 

“Kayda, dēmagon!” Mikasa commanded the dragon to sit. 

Kayda looked down before roaring. 

The dragon was clearly upset. 

“Kayda, māzīs!” Mikasa commanded the dragon to come to her. “Kayda, kostilus,” she added please.

The dragon looked at Mikasa before she landed. 

“Kirimvose,” Mikasa thanked her dragon. 

Kayda snorted but did not release fire or smoke. 

“Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor,” Levi said as he came out with the saddles and reins. 

“I know a dragon is not a slave,” Mikasa said as she took the saddle and reins from Levi. 

“Then you’re better than most. They feel our emotions but they have their own as well. Kayda feels you’re upset. Now whether it is because of Eren ignoring you or from that slash on your cheek, Kayda feels it. She wants you to acknowledge your feelings,” Levi walked over to Vulcan. “And she’s not the only one.” 

“So you’ve said,” Mikasa sighed. 

Kayda snorted smoke. 

—-------------------------

Vivica was stretched out on Zeke’s bed, chewing a bone her owner had managed to swipe from the kitchen. 

Zeke was going through the books that Hange had left in his room. They were very interesting, reminding Zeke of the tales of old his mother had read to him when he was a child. There was a rumor that over the mountains in the North, there were unicorns. It was also said to have to be larger than normal lions. 

It seemed past the mountains, there was a lot of magic. 

Something had happened to the ground in the south. 

Magic was still there but not as powerful as it could be. Skinchangers, wargs, and dragons were all reported. There were some unicorns spotted south but they all died unexpectedly. 

“Find anything interesting?” Pieck asked as she walked into the room, closing the door behind her. 

“Do you ever knock?” Zeke asked, not looking up from the book he was reading. 

“Why should I knock? It’s not like you’re doing anything and I’ve already seen you naked as many times as there are stars in the sky.”

“Thank you, Pieck.” 

“I’m sorry. Would you rather I pretend to be a blushing maid?” 

“We both know that you never blush,” Zeke said before closing the book and facing Pieck. 

“I’ve been your guard on and off for years. Though I question if I should be insulated that they never thought we’d do anything,” Pieck collapsed on the chaise. 

“Because they know I love you like a sister. A very annoying, short sister.” 

“True. Hange is talking to Grisha. They’re worried about Eren and Mikasa.” 

“Hange or my family?”

“Your family. They’re worried if she will still agree to marry him,” Pieck reported as she stared at the ceiling. “Do you think I should have let my mother marry me off?” 

“You do not want to know what I think about your mother,” Zeke snorted.

When her father was sick, Pieck had joined the royal guard to get money for her father’s treatments. He had been a good man up until he became ill. Her mother, on the other hand, was not a good woman. Pieck’s mother treated Pieck like Pieck was shit. Ever since her father had died, her mother put an immense stress onto Pieck. 

Pieck sighed, “I suppose you’re right. She wants more money. She wants my entire pay now.” 

“Why?”

“For drinks. What else?” 

“Maybe you should see if you can join Mikasa and Eren’s house. I’m sure they’ll live in the North. You could join their guard.”

“And leave you alone here? Never.”

Zeke rolled his eyes. “So what is the real reason you’re here?” 

“Jean has a friend over and I don’t want to hear that. It’s the middle of the day!” 

Zeke narrowed his eyes, “and yet you…”

“This isn’t about me!” 

Zeke had this sneaking feeling that Pieck and Jean had some unresolved thing between the two of them. Pieck had always been harder on Jean, always having to win when they dueled. Porco and Marcel gave Pieck hell over it. They though the two should fuck and get it over with but Zeke had a feeling that would only complicate the feelings that Pieck had. She would never admit that she had any feelings for him whatsoever so it was better to just ignore it. 

“Alright, where is Levi? You said Hange was speaking to my parents,” Zeke changed the conversation. 

“Levi took the dragons out. They were getting restless. I don’t think they like the dragon pit.”

“I don’t like the dragon pit.”

“Do you remember when the dragons were here when we were kids?”  Pieck asked as she sat up. 

“I remember the sounds, never saw them. Do you?” 

Pieck nodded, “to squash the rebellion. The sight of them in the sky….my family switched the Jaeger’s before the rebellions but had we not, those dragons would have been enough.” 

“I was….you know how I was for a while. I couldn’t….I worried. Especially after Eren was born and then the constant trying to break into the castle. The North is different. I almost wish….”

“The Capitol was there?” 

Zeke nodded. 

“When you become King, let’s move it there.” 

Zeke scoffed. “I’d have to marry.” 

“If you fail at finding someone, you can always marry me. We’ll have no children though,” Pieck smirked. 

“Oh yes. We’ll leave the kingdom without any heirs.”

“Your brother’s children. We’ll make them our heirs.”

“Brilliant, Pieck!”

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Zeke called. 

The door opened to reveal Hange who walked in and sat beside Pieck. Zeke turned his chair around so he was facing Hange and Pieck.

“That bad?” Pieck asked. 

“I know why Zeke asked about the Tyburs now and no, I cannot tell you what’s going on. You’ll find out once you have that meeting with your father,” Hange sighed. 

“Fine. I have a question about your research though,” Zeke said as he turned to the books. 

“Go ahead, that I can tell you about,” Hange reassured him. 

“Why is there less magic south of the mountains in the North?” Zeke asked as he handed Hange the book. “And is that Valyrian?” he asked as he pointed to the runes written in the book. 

Hange took the book from Zeke. They looked at runes. “No. Not at all. Not everything that’s not written in Common is Valyrian. It’s the Old Tongue. Skagos Sygerrik. Stone deceiver is what it means if I’m translating correctly,” Hange said as they looked up from the book. 

“Stone deceiver, what the fuck does that mean?” Pieck asked as she looked over Hange’s shoulder. 

“I do not know. It does not even mention where the magic went. It just tells the tales of Old. The Others, The Tybur Hammers, the defeat of the Others, arrival of the Fritz Family, the story of Helios.Then it says stone deceiver. Then no more mention of magic,” Hange explained. 

“Do you really think magic is real?” Pieck asked. 

“The Ackermans have dragons. Wolves show up from nowhere when a Jaeger is added to the family. They’re huge, unlike any wolves I’ve ever seen. They live for an abnormal amount of time. Pieck, you still have that miniature rose in your room, correct?” Hange asked.

“Yes but what has that got to do with anything?” 

“You live in the basement of the barracks. There’s no sunlight there.” 

“Well…that’s….that’s because…..I’m just….my father taught me,” Pieck flushed as she looked down. 

“Your father who was a Finger.”

“It can’t….magic isn’t….”

“Levi asked me where the wolves came from. I told him I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell him they just showed up,” Zeke said as he leaned back in his chair. “I suspect he knows more than he’s letting on. You should talk to Levi.” 

“I will,” Hange looked down. 

“You don’t want to talk to him because of Erwin, do you?” Zeke asked. 

Hange sighed. “I don’t….I look at him and all I see is Erwin. It was Erwin who came up with these theories. Not even me. The Smith family is gone. Erwin is gone. You know he was my dearest friend besides you two. To find out he named me his successor to Grisha instead of his squire….why? I just…it’s too fresh.”

“Oh Hange,” Pieck said as she threw her arms around Hange. 

“You’re warm,” Hange replied.

“Why do you always have to say the strangest things?” Pieck said as she withdrew her arms from around Hange. 

“Then stop being so warm,” Hange muttered. 

“You deserve to be named successor,” Zeke reassured Hange.

“I will only do it temporarily, as I said. Armin will succeed Erwin,” Hange assured both Zeke and Pieck. 

“If Eren doesn’t take him when he marries Mikasa,” Zeke smirked. 

Hange sighed as they leaned back on the chaise. 

—----------------------

Dinner was the most awkward scene. 

Eren was purposely looking down at his plate, refusing to meet Mikasa’s eyes. 

The mark on her cheek wasn’t that bad. 

Zeke looked back and forth at the two of them. 

Porco and Marcel caught Zeke doing so and then shared a knowing look. 

Everyone at the table besides Eren knew that he and Mikasa were betrothed. 

Everyone besides Eren and Mikasa knew that everyone else knew. 

It was a tale any bard would love to spin. 

“Have a nice afternoon, Jean?” Connie asked before drinking some wine.

Pieck snorted. 

“What was that for?” Jean asked as he looked at her. 

“Nothing. Not a thing, Lord Kirstein,” Pieck scoffed. 

“Don’t call me by my title. You make it sound….strange,” Jean said as he reached for his wine glass.

“And it being moaned doesn’t make it sound strange? I suppose the courtesans only want you for that title anyway.” Pieck said before up her own wine glass. 

“I told you! You’re mucking out the stalls tomorrow!” Gabi pointed to Falco.

“She wasn’t a courtesan!” Jean protested. 

“HA! Now you’re mucking out the stalls!” Falco laughed. 

“Really? With those fake sounds, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Pieck scoffed.

Sasha choked on her wine. 

“There is a princess present,” Colt pointed out. 

“The princess doesn’t care, do you?” Pieck asked Mikasa. 

“Not at all,” Mikasa replied. “I’ve heard worse.” 

“Well what about you?” Jean retorted to Pieck. 

“What about me?” Pieck asked as she sat her glass down. 

“Do you think I enjoy hearing you?” 

“Then don’t listen.” 

“The walls are thin!” 

“Well at least it’s real!”

“It was real!” 

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.”

“You’re insufferable.” 

“As are you!” 

The two of them continued to bicker.

Mikasa leaned over to Zeke, “does this happen very often?” 

“Often enough that Gabi and Falco have made several bets about them,” Zeke replied. 

“Are they...”

Zeke shook his head, cutting Mikasa off, “do not go there. It is a topic we all, beside Marcel and Porco, refuse to ask them about.”

“But?” 

“But I would imagine they have feelings for one another. It is just a long history. Pieck’s family is on the poorer end of the Houses in King’s Landing. Jean is on the higher end. Pieck joined the royal guard to help out her father while Jean never had to. They find conflicts with one another. They purposely push one another.” 

Mikasa looked down. 

“I do not mean like you did. Yours was warranted. Theirs, however……” Zeke trailed off. 

“You’re ridiculous!” Pieck exclaimed towards Jean.

“ATTENTION! Good people, friends. Family. I would like to make a toast,” Grisha said as he stood from his table. “As you all know, we made a trip to the North, our former home. We met with the Ackerman family, our oldest allies. Now their head of house and their youngest has come. You saw the duel between Prince Eren and Princess Mikasa. Now I must tell you that I lied about the reasoning for that.” 

People began muttering. 

Mikasa looked at Eren. 

“You see, Queen Carla is also from the North. There is an ancient tradition between the small folk. The women from the North must be defeated in combat by any suitor. You saw Eren do that,” Grisha continued.

“What is he talking about?” Annie asked Sasha. 

“I have no idea,” Sasha replied. 

“As you can guess, Princess Mikasa asked that I not tell you the truth. As she is one of the best in the North, she did not want to embarrass the Prince if he could not defeat her. I know how much Eren loves her. I cannot deny a love match as I found my Sun and my Moon. So I am proud to announce that Prince Eren proposed marriage to Princess Mikasa! The Ackermans, the Azumbitos, and the Jaegers will make their bonds permeate in blood! Please raise your glass to a love match and the future of the North!” 

The whole banquet hall besides Eren and Mikasa raised their glasses with a cheer.

Mikasa turned red. 

Eren just stared, his face stone. 

—------------

The rest of dinner was unbearable from Mikasa. 

Eren refused to meet her eyes or even look in her direction. 

As soon as it was not considered rude to leave, Mikasa excused herself. 

Connie, Jean, Armin, Sasha, and Annie followed.

“You didn’t know that he was going to do that, did you?” Sasha asked as Sasha walked beside Annie and Mikasa.

“No, I had no idea,” Mikasa shook her head. 

“He could have at least pretended that he at least liked you. That was cruel,” Annie said. 

“He’s a fool,” Jean muttered. “Sorry.” 

Sasha snorted. 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have. We can walk further behind you,” Jean stated. 

“Walk beside us,” Mikasa said simply. 

Armin and Jean stopped behind them for a moment. Then joined their side. 

“Do you miss not having guards follow you everywhere?” Armin asked. 

“Desperately. Do you mind if we go to the dragon pit instead of our rooms?” Mikasa asked. 

“Whatever you wish. We’ve been instructed to follow you three,” Connie assured them. 

“The dragon pit,” Mikasa repeated. 

“To the dragon pit then,” Armin agreed.

—----------------------------------------

“CORN!” Midnight screamed before landing on his perch and eating his dinner of corn. 

Fenrir whined as he was woken up by the bird’s exclamation. 

Eren sat in his window, looking out at the night sky. The wind blew in the cool night air. 

He knew the Ackermans had gone flying again because he heard the dragons’ roaring, and felt it shaking the castle at some points. Neither dragon sounded very happy but he didn’t blame them. Being trapped all day could not have been good for the dragons. 

Ere knew he should have gone to Mikasa, talk to her, tell her how he felt. 

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to, still worrying about ruining her. 

Sooner or later, he’d have to face her. 

He decided it would be later.

—-------------------

Day two of the tournament was underway. 

Today, the tourney started with hand to hand combat. 

Annie made quick work of the competition, winning that part of the tourney.

Then the jousting began. 

Levi, however, knocked every opponent off their horse. 

It was looking more and more as if the final round of the joust was going to be Levi and the Crown Prince. 

Zeke was alive in these competitions.This was what he wanted to be doing, training, competing. He wanted to be like the knights in the tale of old. 

He lived for the fact that he would face someone like Levi. 

Gabi was pouting as she had also been knocked out of the competition while Falco carried on. 

“That is just what happens sometimes,” Zeke reassured her.

“Not to you,” Gabi muttered. 

“I’ve been doing this much longer than you have. You did well for your first jousting tournament,” Zeke tried to cheer her up. 

“I got dismounted twice,” Gabi cursed. 

“Out of four rounds, that’s not bad. Not to mention that one of those times you were up against Lady Braus. You won against her, she competed more than you. That’s something to be proud of, Gabi.” 

Gabi sighed, “I wanted to beat Falco. I  wanted to face him.” 

“I understand. There will be more competitions.”

“Yes, but we won’t always be…we could be separated after we are knighted this year. I…” Gabi trailed off. 

There had always been something brewing between Gabi and Falco. It was another situation Zeke did not and would not get involved with. 

“I understand,” Zeke lied. 

He didn’t understand at all. 

—---------------

Mikasa chose to watch from the royal box. 

These were her bethrothed’s family 

“Princess Mikasa, after you marry my son, I hope we will see you out there competing,” Carla smiled in the seat next to her. 

“Perhaps you can teach Carla and I how to move like you were yesterday,” Dina replied. 

“Of course. I do not know how good of a teacher I will be,” Mikasa blushed.

“Someone with the patience to deal with my son can do anything,” Carla teased. 

“I…”Mikasa trailed off. 

“Is he still not speaking to you?” Carla asked as she placed a hand on Mikasa’s arm. The Queen quickly removed it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to seem overly familiar.” 

“No, it is fine. I…I don’t mind at all. We are to be family, are we not?” 

Carla smiled before she brushed stray hair out of Mikasa’s face. “We are already family. Kuchel is a dear friend to me. I knew your mother briefly.”

“You did?” Mikasa’s eyes light up. 

“You do not see her much, do you?” 

“No. Not at all.” 

“Yui Azumbito was always very kind. She offered support during the war from the Azumbitos. Your parents were also a love match but I’m sure you already knew that. From what I understand, she is across the sea not only protecting you but this kingdom as well.”

Mikasa’s eyebrows scrunched together. 

“When there are not so many ears, you and I shall talk,” Carla patted Mikasa’s knee before returning to watching the jousts. 

Mikasa wondered if Carla knew anything about her parents that Mikasa didn’t. She doubted it but it would be nice to get a perspective from someone outside of the family.

Though Carla was right, they were to be family. 

“Do you think you’ll return to the North, Princess?” Dina asked from the other side of Grisha. “What I am asking is do you want to live there after you and Eren are married?” 

“Oh. I hadn’t……I hadn’t really thought about it.” 

“My son would do well in the North. Would I be wrong to assume that you would prefer to be in charge of the North over the Azumabito throne?” Grisha asked. 

“No, Your Grace. You would not be wrong,” Mikasa answered. 

“Good. Once you and Eren have settled after the wedding, we will make another visit.”

“You just want to go back home,” Dina teased him. 

“Wherever you two are is my home,” Grisha told his wives. 

Dina snorted.

Carla laughed. 

“You see why my sons are the way they are? Just like their mothers. Much better for them in the long run,” Grisha smiled. 

Mikasa found herself smiling as well.

—------------

Annie stood from the sidelines, watching. 

This was going to be an interesting match up. 

“Who’s that man there?” Sasha asked, pointing to a man in armor next to a blonde man Armin. 

Annie shrugged. 

“His name is Niccolo. He’s a baker for House Arlert. He acts as a messenger sometimes as well. I’m surprised you two haven’t met him before,” Connie said.

“Lord Arlert just shows up at the castle whenever he needs anything or sends a raven,” Sasha shrugged. 

“Niccolo is for when they don’t want to send a raven. He normally stays for a night and cooks. His food is to die for,” Connie informed them. 

“Do you wish to wager on the match?” Gabi asked them. 

“What could you possibly give me?” Falco countered Gabi. 

“Not you, them,” Gabi said, looking at Sasha and Annie. 

“What do you want?” Sasha asked as she raised an eyebrow. 

“5 gold coins?” Gabi grinned. 

“On?” 

“The prince.”

Annie snorted. 

“5 gold coins on Lord Levi,” Sasha said as she held her hand out to the squire.

Gabi took it and they shook hands. 

They all watched with bated breath as Eren and Levi rode towards each other. 

Faster and faster, the horse raced. 

SMASH!

Levi’s lance hit Eren’s chest plate at full speed. 

Eren hung onto the horse.

They reset.

The next round went to Levi as did the other one. 

Eren had lost the match but stayed in the competition. 

“Never bet against Levi,” Sasha grinned. 

Eren rode past the royal viewing box, grinned at Mikasa, and then went back to his spot. 

“Well that is interesting,” Jean noted. 

“You know what isn’t interesting? I have to face Reiner now,” Connie said as he put his helmet on and mounted his horse.

“2 pennies on Reiner,” Gabi said to Sasha. 

“2 on Connie then,” Sasha countered.

Falco rolled his eyes. 

—-----------------

The skies became Mikasa’s escape. It was just her and Kayda and the sky. Nothing else mattered.

There were no princes who confused Mikasa with asking for her favor after ignoring her and fleeing the North. No one wondered if their engagement was truly a love match or a purely political move while she was in the sky.

Mikasa hadn’t asked for any of this. 

Kayda returned to the dragon pit once their flight was over though it was clear that Kayda did not like being coped up. Vulcan landed with Levi moments later. 

“A few more days, Vulcan,” Levi reassured his dragon. 

Vulcan snorted smoke. 

“Lykirī,” Levi commanded. “Mother told me your father’s dragon was the worst in the dragon pit.” Levi began removing Vulcan’s saddle and reigns.

“Meadow? He didn’t like the dragon pit?” Mikasa asked as she removed Kayda’s saddle. The dragon shook, happy to have the saddle off.

“It’s why Kiyomi had to agree that the dragon could be free over there. She may rule over ten kingdoms but Meadow will not listen when it comes to being trapped inside. Neither will Seaflames. Then again, she can’t fit in here,” Levi pulled Vulcan’s reins off. 

“Do you think Meadow is happy there?” Mikasa asked as she pulled Kayda’s reins off. 

“Meadow is happy wherever your father is.” 

Mikasa bit her lip, “Carla said she knows my mother.” 

“Not surprised. She’s close to my mother.” Levi took the saddle and reins from Mikasa after he pulled off Vulcan's saddle.

“Do you think she knows why my parents chose to stay there?” 

Levi sighed, “why the sudden interest?” 

Mikasa looked down, “no reason.” 

“You’re lying but you’ve dealt with enough today.” 

Kayda pressed her head into Mikasa’s back. 

—--------------------

Those who had moved forward to the next day of jousting sat at their own table at the front of the banquet hall, right before the royal family. 

They sat in the following order: Levi, Zeke, Reiner, Bertolt, Annie, Eren, Jean,a male knight Mikasa didn’t know the name of, Connie, Sasha, Colt, Falco, and two female knights that Mikasa didn’t know, Marcel, and Porco.

Mikasa wore a new crown to dinner as she had done the last three days.

Sasha had already begun to make plans for the design of Mikasa’s wedding crown. 

“Levi looks absolutely thrilled to be up at that table,” Pieck snorted as she took a bite of food. 

“I’m surprised Falco is up there,” Gabi muttered to herself. 

“You should be up there,” Pieck said as she elbowed Hange. 

“I haven’t competed in years. Besides, my luck the prize would be to be Captain of the Guard permanently,” Hange sighed. 

“I still think you should be competing. You as well, Princess.” 

Mikasa looked up from her food. “Oh. Well. I’m not the best at jousting. I would enjoy the melee competition.” 

“Oh I would enter to fight you,” Pieck grinned.

“So sorry,” Armin said as he slid into the chair next to Mikasa. 

“You don’t have to apologize to us,” Hange reassured Armin. 

“Did Niccolo bring us any interesting information?” Pieck asked. 

“No, but he did bring tarts. He’s not here for messaging actually. King Grisha requested him for the winner’s feast.”

“Niccolo is cooking the winner’s feast?” Gabi’s eyes lit up. 

“It seems that way. Have you eaten his food, Princess Mikasa?” Armin asked her.

Mikasa shook her head. 

“Niccolo makes the best food! It is a shame he’s all the way in the North,” Gabi sighed. “He always brings treats when he comes. The best lemon cakes.” 

Mikasa’s eyes lit up. “Lemon cakes?”

“Oh yes. His lemon cakes are perfect. They’ll ruin anyone else’s for you. Lemon cakes are my favorite.” 

“Mine as well,” Mikasa confessed. 

“Really?”

Mikasa nodded. 

“By the way, when you were fighting the prince, that move you did when you went the opposite direction right before it ended, were you planning on using his weight against him?” 

“I…I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Too angry at the moment?” 

Mikasa nodded. 

“I get that way as well. Reiner is always scolding me for it. I have to say though, I am impressed with the Ackerman training. I’ve heard stories you know. It was great to see it in action. I was hoping to last long enough in the jousting part of the tournament to face Lord Ackerman.”

“It was your first tournament, Gabi. You’ll get a chance,” Pieck reassured her. 

“You can always come to a tourney in the North. I’m sure we will host one once Eren and I are wed. It is a tradition. Levi always competes,” Mikasa added.

“Perhaps,” Gabi looked down at her food. 

“Gabi, is something wrong?” Pieck asked. 

“It’s nothing. I just have this feeling, this feeling that something is going to happen. Something is wrong. I feel it in the pit of my stomach,” Gabi confessed.

Hange stared at Gabi. “Braun, knight, armor,” they muttered to themself. 

Gabi gave Hange a confused look. 

“It’s nothing. I’m sure,” Hange muttered. 

“What are they talking about?” Gabi asked Pieck.

“Dunno. It’s Hange. Could be anything. You still with us, Hange?” Pieck asked as she elbowed them. 

“Huh? Yes. Sorry,” Hange said.

—————————-

“You should escort your future bride back to her room after dinner,” Jean said as he elbowed the prince. 

Eren just looked over at him. “Are you on guard duty?” 

“Always. Mostly to avoid Pieck,” Jean confessed. 

Eren had to stop himself from rolling his eyes so instead he just stared at Jean. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Jean muttered. 

“Have you ever stopped to consider why you and Pieck act that way?” Eren asked.

“What? You get engaged and now you think you can…” 

“Think I can what? I am simply stating the fact.” 

“Asshole,” Jean muttered.

“Bastard,” Eren replied. 

Jean picked up his glass and tipped it in Eren’s direction, “that was deserved.” 

“How is your father?” 

“A piece of shit like always.” 

“Do you think he’ll show up for the feast?” 

“He’ll show but he won’t speak to me unless I win something. Though I doubt with Levi and Zeke either of us will win the joust.” 

“Who would crown if you won?” 

“Princess Mikasa. Just to piss you off.” 

“Of course you would.” 

“I have to keep things interesting around here.” 

“You’re such a prick.” 

“And you’re going to get knocked off your horse tomorrow.” 

Eren scoffed. 

They both looked at their normal table. Laughter was erupting.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Jean asked.

“Nothing good if they’re laughing like that,” Eren muttered.

—------------------

“So I’m standing there, covered in mud and Hange looks at me like it’s my fault that we fell into the pigsty,” Pieck laughed. 

“I told you the roof wasn’t sturdy!” Hange protested. 

Mikasa laughed. 

“How’d you get out of it?” Gabi asked as she sat up straighter.

“Well the ladies that were following us, they weren’t the smartest. So Hange and I ditched our armor and then just started covering ourselves in mud.” 

“It smelled so bad,” Hange added. 

“So we leaned against the back of this pigsty, hoping they wouldn't see us since we’re covered head to toe in mud.” 

“And they didn’t. We stayed there for a while just hoping they would come back.” 

The table laughed again. 

Mikasa surprisingly felt a bit more comfortable than she thought would have been sitting here with people she didn’t know. Then again, it happened pretty often when she visited her aunt. 

“Enough about us,” Pieck said as she waved her hand. “I want to hear about the princess,” Pieck grinned at Mikasa. 

“Me?” Mikasa asked in shock. 

“Yes, you. We know very little. Now you’re becoming a part of the royal family. As Prince Zeke’s oldest friend, I find the need to know about you as you are to be his sister.” 

“Oh. Well. I’m…” Mikasa trailed off, trying to think about herself. 

“You’re shy. Understandable. What’s your preferred weapon?” Pieck asked as she broke her roll in half. 

“Sword,” Mikasa answered. 

“Does your sword have a name?” 

Mikasa shook her head, “I don’t have a valyrian steel sword yet.”

Hange frowned, “why not?” 

“I haven’t decided on a design for the pommel,” Mikasa looked down, flushed, embarrassed. 

“Not a dragon?” Pieck asked before stuffing the rest of her roll into her mouth. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

“At least you have a dragon for your sigil. I just have a knight. How am I supposed to have an interesting pommel for my sword?” Gabi complained. 

Mikasa just smiled at Gabi.

—----------------

Eren was in his window again when Mikasa was flying after dinner. 

“NO! NO! CORN! FENRIR!” Midnight screeched as before he began eating. 

Fenrir growled at the crow. 

Eren shook his head. Eren had yet to talk to Mikasa since they had been announced to be married. He should have made time. Should have used one of the many secret tunnels in the castle to visit her. 

But he didn’t even know what to say to her. 

It was partly because he still believed it would be better if they weren’t together. Eren still saw himself as undeserving of her, her love, if she could ever love him.

He was hoping there would be some way out of this marriage but then how would that look? Especially when his father had said they were a love match. 

Eren wouldn’t embarrass Mikasa anymore but he wouldn’t seek her out either. He’d just do the bare minimum from here on out. 

—--------------

Day three of the tournament went by in a blur. 

Sasha took the archery competition. 

Not only did she hit every single target but she also split any other arrows that were already on the bullseye. 

Sadly, Sasha was knocked out of the jousting tournament that day. She wasn’t the only one. Connie, Porco, Marcel, Falco, and Colt were also out of the competition. 

Dinner that night passed rather uneventfully. The table filling even more, they all traded stories while Zeke, Levi, Eren, Jean, Bertolt, Reiner, and Annie sat at the table for those still in the competition. 

—-------------

The fourth day of the tournament was melee. 

Levi won which surprised absolutely no one. 

The jousting was cut down to the final top four: Levi, Zeke, Eren, and Reiner.

Annie had been knocked out by Zeke as he had managed to knock her off of her horse. 

It had been a nasty fall that included the horse stepping on Annie’s leg. The Crown Prince had been noticeably worried about how Annie limped away. 

Annie had had worse injuries. She took a hot bath, chewed willowbark for the pain. It was not too bad for Annie to handle.

She skipped going down to dinner that night, not feeling much like eating. Sasha and Mikasa had promised to bring back their rolls for her. It was unnecessary but if it made Sasha and Mikasa feel better, Annie had decided to endure it. 

Her body needed rest. A nap would be good and then all would be fine, at least that is what Annie told herself. 

Once she was in bed, there was a knock on the inner door. It could not be Mikasa and Sasha as they had just gone down for dinner. 

Pulling on her dressing robe, Annie answered the door. 

The familiar blonde man on the other side was the last person she was expecting to be there. 

“I wanted to see how you were,” Armin replied as he ran a hand along the back of his neck. 

“I’m fine,” Annie said as she looked down. 

“Good. I…I was worried,” he confessed. 

“I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine,” she shrugged. 

“What about your leg?” 

“There’s a nasty bruise forming but it’s not broken. The horse didn’t step down that hard. I think the horse got scared when it stepped on my leg, the uneven ground, you know. My shoulder hurts a bit but I’ll be fine.” 

“Do you have anything for the pain?” 

Annie nodded, “willowbark. It’s helping”

“Good. I am glad. I was…I was worried.” 

“You said that,” Annie muttered. 

“I wanted to come sooner but…”

“You worried about being seen. It would be bad for you…”

“No!” Armin cut her off. “No. I was on guard duty for the king. Hange and I both were, otherwise I would have come sooner.” 

“It’s fine, Armin. I don’t expect anything from you anymore. Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to get some rest,” Annie closed the door, too quickly for Armin to stop it. 

Annie listened to his retreating footsteps before she crawled back into bed. 

—----------

After dinner, two dragon roars echoed through the palace courtyard. 

Seaflames and Blaze had landed.

Everyone had rushed out of the banquet hall to greet the other two Ackermans. 

“Mother?” Levi asked as Kuchel climbed down off of Seaflames.

“The Arlerts are watching the North. I heard you made it to the final round,” Kuchel said as she hugged her son. “Suvion,” she whispered in his ear. 

Levi frowned. 

Ice? 

Why was his mother talking to him about….?

Levi’s eyes grew wide. 

Ice.

The others. 

“Suvio perzō vāedar,” Levi whispered. The song of ice and fire was going to happen, whether they were ready or not. 

“Issa,” Kuchel nodded, confirming it.. “We are here for you though.” 

—-----------------------

Seaflames had taken residence on top of the dragon pit. 

No one argued with the dragon, no one even dared to point it out. 

Seaflames refused to go inside but it seemed she was perfectly fine where she was. 

Kenny, Grisha, Kuchel, Levi, Carla, and Dina gathered inside of the dragon pit. 

Kenny unrolled the burlap he had wrapped around the sword.

A sword of pure ice lay in front of them. It was a strange type of ice. It seemed to be radianting cold from the strange blue color. 

“We found four of these near the mountains, not where the wild dragons are,” Kenny said as he pulled off a glove. He held up his hand, there was what looked like a burn on his hand. “That is from the ice.” 

“It burns?” Dina asked as she stared at the sword. 

“Yes, it can’t be destroyed by regular fire. Only thing that seems to destroy it is dragon fire. Makes a lot of fucking noise when it crashes against valyrian steel, something like an animal dying,” Kenny explained. “We tested it.” 

“It’s happening, isn’t it? What all the old tales talk about,” Carla asked as she stepped closer to the sword. 

“It is,” Kuchel confirmed. 

“What do we do?” Dina asked. 

“They haven’t crossed the mountains yet. They can’t but they are stirring. I don’t understand why they didn’t build the wall. All the lore I can find just says Skagos Sygerrik. Stone deceiver. Whatever that means,” Kuchel informed them. 

“My family couldn’t figure it out either. It’s in the Old Tongue. It makes little sense,” Dina said. 

“I say we destroy the sword, use the tournament as an excuse for Kuchel and Kenny being here, and then continue to keep watch on both the Tyburs and the Others,” Grisha ordered. 

“I agree,” Kenny put the glove back on his hand. He picked up the sword, everyone followed him out of one of the backrooms. He threw the sword in front of Blaze. “Dracarys,” Kenny ordered as he stepped back. 

Kayda and Vulcan flew into the air. 

Blaze let out a roar before blasting the sword with dragon fire, burning the grass down as well.  The sword melted into nothing. 

All that was left was a burn mark on the ground.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

The young girl’s eyes just beamed with excitement. “Really? You’d love it? If you want it that much, I’ll make sure to draw it super quick! Don’t worry though, it’ll still be good, I promise!” Looking between the two, she asked, “What do you guys want me to draw?”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh a little as well. “Are you sure? Valka, I can’t even count all the years you’ve been here on both my hands! That means it’s been a super long time! And how do you never get bored? I’m bored all the time, there’s never anything to do when I’m at home! And all the stuff I want to do, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to,” she said, looking up at the older woman.

Taking a few moments to think, she shrugged. “Um, whatever my brain makes up; sometimes it’s scary stories, but those are more like memories, and I just have to try and get rid of them, it doesn’t work a lot though, ‘specially if I’m by myself… Other times, uh, I guess just like book stories? Like ones with people I make up, and maybe animals, I dunno, ‘s hard to explain…”

She gave a tiny nod. “He sounds irritating… and mean, and just not very fun to be by. I don’t think I wanna meet him while I’m here, okay?”

“That must suck…” She let out a tiny yawn. “To have him as your family, I don’t think I’d like that very much, but, I guess if you say that he’s not that bad, then I’ll believe you.”

She let out a small groan of discomfort, sitting up from her previous position. “S-sorry, I was jus’ sitting weird, and m’ back was staring to hurt again…”

Once comfortable again, now just sitting up in front of the chair like before, when she was getting her hair braided.

“Hiccup, one day I wanna have stories like you do, ‘cause you’ve done a lot of cool stuff, and I… haven’t— but I will! I’m sure of it!”

They both knew they couldn't ask her to draw their dragons, as Danny was still uncomfortable around them, so they both said something along the lines of, "Whatever you'd like to draw is fine!"

"With a good imagination, you can never be bored!" Valka tilted her head. "What sort of things do you want to do? Perhaps we can help you accomplish some of it?"

"Well, maybe you could tell us one, sometime." Hiccup quickly added, "The book-like ones, I mean. We won't pry into the scary ones."

Astrid nodded enthusiastically, pointing at Danny. "She gets it! See, Hiccup? Snotlout is irritating!"

He shook his head, laughing. "Look, that may be true, but you remember what he was like on the Edge, he really changed for the better!"

"And then reverted back to his old self once we got back!"

"Well, yes, but he's still our friend..."

"Yeah, yeah."

It might have sounded like an argument, but the couple was all smiles as they bantered back and forth, neither one actually upset with the other, or truly upset about the subject they spoke of.

Astrid, hearing Danny's discomfort, offered, "Do you want some of that numbing cream?"

Hiccup, hearing Danny's declaration, responded with, "I'm sure you will, and you know what? I am already looking forward to hearing all about it!" Though a part of him knew it'd be a long time until she was able to do just that, just from what he knew of her past already.

"You'll come back someday and visit again, won't you?"

[cicimunson]

Dollhouse Part 4

Chapter Summary: You find out that Jason isn’t as nice as he claims to be.

(Series Summary, Pairings and Characters listed on Part 1)

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: Violence is all I think

Part 1 2 3 5 6 7

"What's going on with you lately?"

You glance up at Jason. You're both laying on your bed, your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around you.

"What do you mean?"

"You just seem…different lately. Distant."

"I'm just tired. Cheering and taking care of the girls is taking a lot out of me."

He nods, accepting your explanation without question. "I understand. Basketball is just so intense, you know? You have no idea. I have this insane pressure to-"

Your mind instantly wanders off.

I swear all he talks about is sports.

You try not to, but you can't stop thinking about Eddie. I wonder what he's doing right now. Band practice? Writing a new DnD campaign?

Jason snuggles closer. "I love you, you know."

"I love you, too."

He smiles contentedly and goes back to talking about basketball.

You close your eyes and zone out once more.

“Hey, do you still have my varsity jacket? I couldn’t find it the other night.”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, it’s hanging in my closet.” You murmur.

“Little thief.” He teases, getting up and grabbing it off the hanger. He slips it on and slides his hands in the pocket.

“What’s this?” He pulls out a folded up piece of paper.

“Huh?”

Oh shit. It’s Eddie’s drawing.

“Someone draw this for you?” He holds it out to you.

“Oh, um, yeah. Mike Wheeler, you know him. I baby-sit his sister.”

He frowns. “That kid got a crush on you?”

“I think he was just being sweet. He’s a nice kid.”

“Uh-huh. Well, no accounting for taste. It’s an ugly dragon.” He tosses the picture on top of your dresser. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so nice to him.”

“What? He’s just a kid, Jason. He’s harmless.”

“If you say so. I gotta get going. I’m meeting some of the guys.”

“Okay.” You get off the bed and kiss his cheek.

“Mmm.” He grabs your waist and tugs you to him, slipping his tongue in your mouth.

You fight the urge to gag. Ugh, so slimy. 

Neither of you hear your bedroom door open.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

You break the kiss and turn to see Billy standing in the doorway. 

“Nothing. Jesus, don’t you knock?” You push Jason away.

Billy crosses his arms and leans against the door jam. “Time for your boyfriend to go home.”

Jason scowls at him but grabs his stuff. Billy doesn’t budge from the doorway as Jason tries to pass him.

“Billy, enough.” You snap.

He chuckles and lets Jason pass. “Just kidding, man. But maybe keep your tongue out of my sister’s mouth from now on.”

Jason glances back at you and you shake your head.

Please, just leave. You will mentally. He nods.

“Bye, babe.”

“I’ll call you later.” You tell him.

You and Billy both listen for the front door to open and close. As soon as Jason’s gone, Billy starts on you.

“When did my step-sister become such a slut?” He acts, asking like he’s shocked. “Does Mommy and Daddy know you’re swapping spit with a football player?”

“He plays basketball. And it’s none of your business.”

“Oh, but, I think it is.” He continues in his sarcastic tone. “What will dear old Mom and Dad think when they come home and discover that I’ve been neglecting my brotherly duty to protect you, and you’ve gone and thrown your pussy at half the basketball team?”

This motherfucker. You slap him.

He rolls his shoulders and tilts his head from side-to-side. “Not to mention you pulling up your skirt for Munson. I mean, seriously, Y/N, you go from drug pusher to prep almost overnight? Tsk, tsk.”

“I’m not doing anything with either of them, Billy. Leave me alone.” You try to push past him but he grabs your arms.

“Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you, bitch.”

“Let me go.”

“I don’t think I will. Tell me, little sister, who’s the better fuck? The freak or the jock?”

“Billy, enough.” You try to pull away from him.

He slaps you. “Don’t you ever put your hands on me again, you understand? Whore.”

“Y/N?” 

You look over to see Max in the doorway. Billy releases you and stomps out of the room, shoving Max as he passes her.

“Don’t fucking touch her, Billy!” You yell, pulling Max into your room and slamming the door.

“Are you okay?” She asks, reaching up to touch your face. “Your lip is bleeding.”

“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m going to tell someone. I have a teacher, Mr. Clark. He’s really nice and-”

“Maxine, listen to me.” You grab her shoulders. “You can’t tell anybody, okay? If people find out that Mom and Dad basically abandoned us, if they find out Billy is in charge and he hurts me, they’ll separate us. They’ll take us away and put us in foster homes. We’ll never see each other.”

She looks like she’s going to cry. You hug her tightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to scare you. I just want you to understand that nobody can ever find out about any of this, okay? It has to stay our secret.”

She hugs you back, squeezing your ribs. “I promise. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Swear it, Max. I couldn’t handle being separated from you and Sarah. You’re all I have.”

“I swear.”

__________

The next day is Friday and you’re dreading it. Most people look forward to the weekends, but you long for the eight hours you’re at school and not having to deal with Billy.

At least I baby-sit tonight and can be out of the house for a while.

You spot Mike walking through the parking lot and hurry to catch up with him.

“Hey, Mike, can you let your mom know I may be a little late tonight? I have a study date with Jason and I really need to review this chem test.”

He doesn’t look at you. If anything, he speeds up his walk. “Sure.” He mumbles.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, just gotta go. Bye!”

“Mike.” You take his arm and pull gently. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at you then and you gasp.

His eye is swollen and black. He quickly ducks his head back down.

“What happened? Who hit you?”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

You tug on his arm again. “No, it’s not fine! Tell me what happened.”

He yanks away from you. “Why don’t you ask your stupid boyfriend?”

Your heart sinks. “What?”

“Yeah, he told me to stay away from you, or else. So please, don’t talk to me. If he or his friends see, I’m dead meat.” He hurries away.

“Mike, I’m so sorry!” You call after him.

I’m going to skin Jason alive!

You sprint through the parking lot to where Jason and his friends are standing around talking.

Hey, babe.” He holds open his arms to hug you.

You shove him. “Don’t you “hey, babe” me! What the hell did you do to Mike?”

One of his friends starts laughing and Jason shoots him a dirty look.

“Answer me. Did you hit him?”

Jason shrugs. “Look, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just told him that you have a boyfriend and he needs to respect that. He got mouthy. I wasn’t going to let that little freak talk shit to me, so yeah, I popped him.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Jason? He’s just a kid! He’s like, fourteen! You hit a child.”

“Well he obviously thinks he’s a man, flirting with you like he does. I saw him talking to you in the cafeteria the other day. And then drawing you that ugly picture? He needed to be put in his place.”

You shove him again. “No, you need to be put in your place! You ever touch that kid again and we’re done, do you hear me? Leave him alone!”

“Oh come on, Y/N, why do you even care about that loser?”

“Mike is my sister’s friend! And I baby-sit for his mom. If he goes home and tells her that my boyfriend punched him because of me, I’ll lose my job.”

He takes your arm and leads you away from his friends. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? When he started mouthing off to me, the guys told me I shouldn’t take it. I couldn’t just let him talk shit to me. But you’re right. I shouldn’t have hit the kid.”

“No you shouldn’t have. You owe him an apology.”

“I’ll apologize, I promise. I honestly didn’t mean to hurt him.” He wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you close. “You believe me, don’t you, baby?”

Maybe he’s telling the truth. It isn’t like Jason to be spiteful or cruel.

“I mean it Jason. If something like this ever happens again-”

“It won’t. I swear.” He pecks your lips. “Don’t be mad, baby. I can’t stand it when you’re mad at me.”

“Then don’t do stupid stuff.” You retort, but the edges of your mouth are turning up into a smile.

“No more stupid stuff.” He vows. “Now, are you ready? I really want to get in a few hours of studying before you have to babysit.”

You take his hand. “Lead the way.”

__________

Later that night, you’re watching tv while waiting for the Wheelers to get home. You hear Eddie’s van pull up and you rush outside. Mike is climbing out of the back. He scowls when he sees you and brushes past you to go in.

“Eddie, hold up!” You call out.

He scowls also. “What do you want, Y/N?”

 You walk up to his open window. “I’m sorry about today, what happened with Jason and Mike. It’s all my fault.”

“How?”

“Jason found the drawing you gave me. I told him it was from Mike.”

Eddie glares out the window at you. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because I thought he would just think it was a harmless crush! I had no idea he’d confront him, much less hit him!”

He lowers his gaze to your swollen lip. “And that? Did he hit you, too?”

“What? No! Jason would never hit me.”

“Well, if he’d hit a fifteen-year-old, it’s not hard to imagine him hitting his girlfriend, too. Unless you broke up with him over this, of course.”

You don’t respond.

He nods, looking angry. “Well just so you know, I’m coming for your little boyfriend. I’m going to kick his ass.”

“What? Eddie, that’s not like you. You don’t fight.”

“That was before he decided to put his hands on my friend. My friend that couldn’t fight back because he didn’t stand a chance. Your boyfriend is a little bitch, Y/N, and a coward who goes after people too weak to defend themselves. Unfortunately for him, I’m not a coward or a bitch, not when it comes to the people I care about. When I see him, I’m going to knock him on his ass.”

“Eddie, please, don’t. I talked to Jason and he’s sorry. He’s going to apologize to Mike. Things don’t have to get uglier than they already are.”

“I’m not gonna let this slide, Y/N. I don’t care when he and his little posse bully or hit me. But it’s a whole other thing to go after one of my friends.”

Did he just say Jason hits him? Is he serious?

“What do you mean, you don’t care when it’s you?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

You step closer to the van and place a hand on Eddie’s arm that’s hanging out of the driver’s side window. “Eddie, tell me.” You ask softly.

He pulls his arm away. “I said don’t worry about it. I gotta get going.”

“No, I wanna know.” You protest.

He sighs. “You just don’t know when to let stuff go, do you?”

You walk in front of his van and open the passenger seat. He quickly moves his guitar out of the way so that you don’t touch it.

“Are you gonna talk to me or am I gonna sit here all night?” You demand.

He groans. “You are the biggest pain in the ass I have ever met. Shouldn’t you get back inside? Aren’t you baby-sitting?”

“Mike can watch her for a few minutes. Now, talk.” You cross your arms over your chest and stare him down.

“Fine, priss. I know what you’re asking, and yeah. Your boyfriend has hit me before. A few times actually. He and his buddies think it’s hilarious to torture the freak.”

He’s trying to sound tough, but I can tell he’s upset. I believe him.

“I didn’t know. I know he can say mean things sometimes, and he’s got a bit of a temper, but I never thought-”

“You don’t know him like you think you do. He’s not a good person, Y/N. And honestly? You could do better.”

“He promised me today that he would stop his bullshit. I believed him.”

“Of course you did. I’m sure he’s sweet to you. Why wouldn’t you believe him?”

“I’ll tell him to leave you alone, too. I’ll tell him not to bother you or your friends anymore.”

He chuckles harshly. “Y/N, if you didn’t know about it happening before now, what makes you think you’ll know after today?”

“You’ll tell me.”

“I will?”

“Yes. If he so much as looks at any of you funny, I want to know. Him or his friends.”

“And you’re so big and strong, you’ll protect us?”

“I won’t let them hurt any of you.”

He reaches out and traces a finger over your lip.

“It looks like you’re the one that needs protecting, priss.”

You almost whimper when he touches you. He’s gentle, barely grazing your mouth, but something about the feel of him, it’s so…nice.

“You okay?” He asks, looking concerned.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine. And my lip is fine, too. I got hit with a volleyball at gym. But Eddie, please give me a chance to handle Jason. If he doesn’t leave you guys alone, I’ll kick his ass myself.”

He sighs. “I’m gonna regret this, but fine. We’ll try your way first.”

You hug him. He sighs again and holds you close.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You kiss his cheek.

He flushes. “Don’t thank me just yet.”

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Photoshoot Fantasies - Fred Weasley

Title: Photoshoot Fantasies Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dom!Fred, daddy kink, spanking, masturbation (male and female) oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, choking, begging, dirty talk Summary: Fred doesn’t like it when his girlfriend gets naughty without his permission A/N: this is….pure filth. For the anon who wanted some smut with dom!fred. this is literally like 3% plot and 97% smut lmao so I hope you enjoy!! Requests are open and feedback is always welcomed!!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oi, lover boy! You’ve got a letter from your girlfriend,” George calls teasingly from the kitchen.

Fred groans as he rolls over in bed, his hands coming up to rub the last bits of sleep from his eyes. He squints as he opens his eyes, due to the bright streaks of sunlight coming in from the break in his curtains. Fred takes a moment to mentally prepare himself for the day before he heaves himself out of bed, and shuffles into the kitchen.

“Good morning dear brother of mine,” George greets far too cheerily for the early hour.

Fred grunts in response and takes a seat across from George, waving his wand so a cup of coffee lands in front of him. He usually isn’t one to need caffeine in the morning, his own natural energy is usually enough to clear the sleep induced fog from his head, but he’s been having trouble sleeping lately since Y/N hasn’t been by his side.

After graduation, Y/N landed her dream job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry. Fred had been so proud of her, and he loved how excited she was each night as she told him about her day over dinner. Unfortunately, her job had one huge drawback: traveling. Every so often Y/N would travel to different parts of the UK and Europe to get updates on the population of certain magical creatures or to help develop and implement conservation plans. A week ago, she left for her longest trip yet, an entire month, and Fred hasn’t been able to sleep well since.

“Where’s this letter then?” Fred asks after he has a few sips of coffee. He can feel the caffeine working its’ magic, and his brain is finally clear enough to string a sentence together.

George rolls his eyes and tosses a thick envelope at Fred. “You two are sickening, you know that? I think she wrote you a bloody novel about how much she loves you and misses you,” George says, pretending to throw up.

Fred flips George off, trying to contain the blush forming on his face. “Don’t act like you didn’t stand in the doorway for 15 minutes last night kissing Angelina goodbye, git.” Fred can feel George’s eyes on him as he fiddles with the envelope. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he bites.

“Someone is feeling feisty,” George retorts with a laugh. “Come on then, open the damn letter. Let’s see how long it takes her to start waxing poetically about your eyes.”

Fred glares at George as his fingers quickly rip open the envelope. Normally he would wait for George to go and busy himself with something else or he’d retreat to his room so he could bask in Y/N’s words by himself, but it’s been far too long since he’s seen her and Fred thinks he might explode if he waits any longer to read her letter. “Oh,” he says softly in surprise, when he only pulls out one piece of parchment. The envelope hadn’t been bulky from the lovely letter she wrote him, but the half a dozen photographs she had included. His eyes scan over the short note, a small smile appearing on his face.

To my dearest Freddie Eddie Spaghetti,

Things are going well up in Scotland, Niffler birth rates are through the roof thanks to the plan we implemented last year. We’ve spent the last few days prepping a large cohort of them to send off to Egypt to assist the rune breakers Gringotts has out there. I’ll be off to France in a day or so to check up on some of the Thestrals we brought to a conservatory outside of Nice a few months ago, hopefully they’ve acclimated well.

I’ve been missing you like crazy, Freddie. You’re all I seem to think about these days, it’s been quite hard to focus on my work. I don’t know how I’m going to manage going three more weeks without seeing your face or being held in your arms. You better rest up, because you won’t be getting any sleep for days once I’m finally back home with you.

I’ve included a few photos that will hopefully keep you company while I’m still away.

Love you lots and lots and lots, Y/N

“That’s it? One stinky piece of parchment?” George asks, clearly annoyed. “There’s my day, ruined. Thought I’d get a nice laugh at least since you’ve been so miserable. What else is in the envelope then?”

Fred’s eyes are still scanning the letter, trying to commit the words to memory and he absentmindedly grabs the stack of photos to show George. “She sent photos,” he responds, finally putting the letter to the side. “Probably of all the baby Nifflers,” he adds with a chuckle.

“Let me see, then,” George says excitedly, reaching his hand out. “Remember when she sent those photos of the baby dragons dressed up in onesies? That was jokes. Bet she put hats on them this time.”

As Fred goes to hand George the stack of photos he gets a glimpse of the one on top. His eyes widen and he quickly pulls his arm back, cradling the photos against his chest. “Nope, sorry. You can’t see them.”

“What? Why not?” George watches as Fred starts to fidget in his seat and a red flush starts to take over his face. “Oh my god!” he says suddenly with a laugh, realization hitting him. “She sent you nudes! What a little minx. You two are far more disgusting than I ever could have imagined.”

Fred clears his throat, choosing to ignore George. “Well I’m going to go back to my room and uh, respond to this letter. See you later.” Fred tries to act as normal as possible as he heads back to his room, desperately trying to ignore George’s cackling. He breathes a sigh of relief as he shuts his door behind him, leaning on it for a moment.

Fred rids himself of his T-shirt and climbs back onto his bed in nothing but his boxers. This isn’t how he planned on spending his morning, but Fred is more than happy to change his plans. He sits up in bed, his back pressed up against his cold wall and his legs splayed out. While Fred would consider himself adventurous in the bedroom, this is the first time Y/N has ever done anything like this, and he can feel himself getting aroused already.

“Merlin,” he groans as he allows himself to look at the first photo. Y/N is laying in the middle of a bed wearing nothing but a lacy red bra and the matching pair of panties, a set Fred is all too familiar with.  Her whole face isn’t visible, just her mouth, and as the photo moves her tongue comes out to lick her bottom lip and her hand lightly trails down her torso to her thigh.

He balances the stack of photos on his lap for a moment, his right hand pushing his boxers down to his thighs. Fred had planned on drawing out the experience, but he’s already rock hard from the first photo. He throws the first photo on the bed beside him as he wraps his hand around himself, and he picks the stack back up.

Fred starts to slowly stroke himself as his eyes rake over the next photograph, his mouth running dry. Y/N is laying in the same position as before, but the bra she was wearing in the first photo has been discarded, and as the photo moves her hands massage her breasts and she bites her lip.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, as he moves onto the next photo. Y/N is now completely naked, and as the photo moves one of her hands trails down her front from her breast to her core while her other hand pinches and toys with one of her nipples.

Fred starts to stroke himself faster and is unable to contain the grunts that fall from his mouth as he moves to the next photo. His thumb rubs the sensitive tip of his cock, spreading around the precum that has started to accumulate, helping his hand glide easier as he strokes. In the next photo, Y/N’s mouth is open, and Fred is sure a breathy moan is leaving her lips, as the movement of the photo shows Y/N starting to slowly rub her clit as her other hand fists in the sheets underneath her.

“Oh, fucking shit,” Fred groans as he looks at the second to last photo, his hand stilling on his cock to stop himself from finishing just yet. Y/N’s feet are now flat against the bed, her knees bent and open wide. As the photo moves Fred can clearly see Y/N sink two fingers into herself as her thumb rubs at her clit. Her other hand tugs at the sheets and her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, a telltale sign that she’s on the brink of her release.

Fred starts to stroke himself again as he reveals the last photo, his orgasm quickly approaching. Y/N’s entire body is flushed red and as the photo moves her back arches, her toes curl, and her whole body trembles as she reaches her orgasm.

Fred’s thumb teases the sensitive head of his cock as his eyes wander over all of the photos. He focuses on the last one, and as Y/N once again reaches her climax Fred does as well. His head tips back and he lets out a low moan as he releases all over his stomach, his cock twitching in his hand. Fred continues to lightly stroke himself as he comes down from his high, his breath coming out in hard pants.

When he gets to be too sensitive he releases himself, letting his cock lay against his stomach. He reaches for his wand so he can clean himself off with a simple spell. But an even better idea pops into his head.

“Accio, camera,” he casts, watching as the top drawer of their dresser opens and his camera starts to fly over to him. He grips the camera and points it at himself, so his body from his torso to the tops of his thighs are in shot. Fred makes sure that his limp cock and the come on his stomach is the center of the photo, and once he’s pleased with the shot he clicks the shutter button.

Fred places the camera on his bed as the photo prints and develops, grabbing his wand and cleaning himself off with a spell. He pulls his boxers back up and gets out of bed, rummaging around for some parchment and a quill. Once he finds what he needs he writes out a quick letter to Y/N.

To my dearest Y/N,

I’m glad to hear everything is going well with work. I’m so proud of you and the things you do. Things at the shop are going well, the new range of whiz-bangs sold out in just a few days. I’m missing you like mad, I can’t wait for you to get home.

Those photos you sent me were very naughty. How dare you pleasure yourself like that without Daddy’s permission. I think Daddy’s going to have to punish you when he finally gets his hands on you. 10 spanks sounds fair, doesn’t it princess? I think you deserve it, after the mess you caused Daddy to make all over himself.

Love you lots and lots and lots and lots, Freddie Eddie Spaghetti

Fred grabs the now developed photo from his bed as he reads over the letter, a satisfied smile on his face. He folds up the letter and tucks it into an envelope along with the photo before he seals it and addresses it to Y/N. As he goes to leave his room he spots a piece of folded up parchment on his floor and he grabs it, opening it up as he heads towards the window in the kitchen.

I’m going to Angelina’s. Use a silencing charm next time you perv.

Fred laughs at George’s note as he sends their owl away with his letter, already thinking about taking advantage of his brother’s absence.

-

“Someone is in a good mood this morning,” George muses as Fred saunters down into the shop just before opening.

Fred adjusts his tie as he joins his brother at the till, a huge smile on his face. Just like last week, a letter had arrived from Y/N this morning with another filthy set of photos. This time she was in a lingerie set that Fred didn’t recognize, and she brought herself to her climax using one of the toys Fred had purchased for her as a Valentine’s Day present earlier in the year. Fred had just enough time to bring himself to his own orgasm and write her back before he had to get dressed and head down to work.

“And why wouldn’t I be?” Fred asks as he unlocks the door and turns the open sign on with a wave of his wand. “The sun is shining, the birds are chirping. It’s a beautiful day, Georgie.”

George looks Fred over before he scrunches his face up in disgust. “Y/N sent you another letter today didn’t she?” When Fred sends George a wink he gags. “Bloody disgusting. I hope you washed your hands.”

“And why would Fred need to be washing his hands?” Verity asks as she comes back from the storeroom with some more love potions to be stocked.

Fred’s face flushes red as George start to laugh. “No reason in particular,” he stutters out. Fred turns to George and glares at him. “You’re such an arse.” Fred moves to hit George upside the head, but he ducks his brother’s advance and heads over to help the two customers that have just walked in the door.

“You lot don’t pay me enough to deal with this,” Verity says as she chuckles and shakes her head.

-

Fred sighs to himself as he sits up in bed, his eyes scanning over some of his notes. He and George are in the early days of developing some new products, and he’s working out some of the initial bugs before they start production next week. At least that’s what he’s supposed to be doing, but his mind is definitely elsewhere. Y/N’s third letter had arrived a few days ago, and he can’t help but let his mind wander to the new photoset sitting in his bedside drawer. It seems that his threats of punishment have fallen on deaf ears, because the photos Y/N has sent have been dirtier each time, and he can’t help but imagine what will be waiting for him in the envelope when her final letter arrives in a few days.

“What do you want?” Fred asks dully when there’s a knock at his door, not bothering to look up at George.

“That’s an awfully rude way to greet your girlfriend after you haven’t seen her for nearly a month,” Y/N says, the smile evident in her voice.

Fred’s head snaps up immediately, a smile taking over his face. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” He immediately climbs off the bed and heads over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Y/N drops her bag on the ground and wraps her arms around Fred’s neck, pulling him down so she can kiss him sweetly. “We finished everything up a few days early. Figured I’d come home and surprise you.”

Fred presses their lips together again hotly, his hands moving down to Y/N’s thighs. He lifts her up, his hands gripping her tightly and moves her over to the bed. “God I missed you,” he murmurs into their kiss, before he tosses her onto the bed.

“Couldn’t have missed me too much, not with all the photos I sent you,” Y/N giggles as she lays back on the bed.

Fred’s eyes darken and he can’t help but let out a groan as he thinks about those pictures. He can feel himself start to get aroused, and he grabs his wand, waving it so that his door slams shut, and locks and a silencing charm falls around his room.

“Such a naughty girl you were, Y/N. Taking those photos without Daddy’s permission,” he scolds, his voice low and rough.

Y/N squirms on the bed, looking up at Fred as innocent as possible. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I just wanted to make you feel good while I was gone,” she explains sweetly. “And clearly it worked, that photo you sent me made me so wet, Daddy.”

Fred bites his lip as he watches her squirm on the bed, taking pride in the fact that he can see a blush forming on her cheeks. “Oh, you made Daddy feel very good, princess. But you were still being a little brat. And you know what happens to brats? Don’t you?”

Y/N can feel herself getting wet as arousal starts to build in her stomach. She’s been waiting for this moment since Fred mentioned spanking her in his first letter. “They get punished,” she responds airily, fists clenching to keep from touching herself.

“That’s right princess, they get punished.” Fred pauses, letting his eyes roam up and down Y/N’s body. “Daddy think 30 swats is good, 15 on each cheek. Don’t you think, princess?” Fred smirks when Y/N lets out a whine as she nods wildly. “What should I use, hm? My hand? Or should I get the paddle?”

“Your hand, please,” Y/N begs. As much as she loves the paddle, she craves the feeling of Fred’s hand on her ass.

Fred smirks down at her. “Normally brats don’t get what they want. But you asked so nicely, princess.” Fred tears his gaze away from Y/N and takes seat on the end of their bed. “Get naked for Daddy and come stand in front of me.”

Y/N immediately gets off of the bed and rids herself of all of her clothing. Normally when they play this game she loves to drag it out and tease Fred endlessly. But she’s been on the edge for nearly 4 weeks and Fred has already been preparing to punish her, and she doesn’t want to find out what he’ll do if she’s even more naughty now that they’re finally back together. Y/N comes to stand in front of Fred, feeling shy under his intense gaze.

“God you are so gorgeous, princess,” Fred compliments, his hand reaching out to lightly grip her hip. He rubs circles into the bare skin, reassuring her. “Come on then. Get in Daddy’s lap.” Fred helps Y/N get situated across his lap, laying on her front. “Such a good girl,” he whispers, letting his hand run down her back, over her bum and to her thigh. “Do you have anything to say to Daddy? Before he gives you your punishment,” he drawls, his hand pushing in between her legs to rub at her wet folds.

Y/N gasps at his touch, her eyes falling closed. “I’m sorry for being a naughty girl, Daddy,” she moans out as Fred rubs her clit ever so slightly.

“Thank you princess,” he says softly, removing his hand from her core. He places it on her bum instead, lightly massaging one of her cheeks. “Daddy’s not mad at you, princess. But you still have to be punished, do you understand?” When Y/N nods he smiles. “Good girl. I want you to count for me, okay?”

“Yes Daddy,” Y/N responds, getting comfortable in Fred’s lap. A squeak leaves her mouth as Fred lands the first slap to her ass. “One,” she counts breathily. Before she has a chance to recover from the first hit, Fred is landing another hit to her cheek causing her to moan. “Two.”

Fred smirks down at the writhing mess Y/N has turned into after her first 15 spanks. Her right bum cheek is bright red, and Fred resists his urge to lean down to kiss it. “Are you doing alright, Princess? Can you take 15 more?” Fred asks quietly, reaching up to stroke Y/N’s hair. As much as he loves being rough with her, he never wants to hurt her or make her uncomfortable in any way. He’s rock hard in his trousers already, and he wants to make sure she’s getting as much pleasure from this as he is.

“Yes, Daddy. Need more. ‘M a naughty girl, I need to be punished,” she responds desperately. Y/N is soaking wet and her stomach is a pool of arousal. A few tears have snuck out of her eyes from how turned on she is, and she’s basking in the warmth left behind on her bum from Fred’s hand.

“Good girl,” Fred praises, leaning down to press a few kisses to Y/N’s shoulder. “You can use your safe word at any time, you know that right?” When Y/N nods he presses another kiss to her shoulder and starts to massage the bum cheek he hasn’t hit yet. “Count for me again, princess, okay?”

Y/N nods, letting out a moan a Fred lands the first hit to her cheek. “One,” she whines, lifting her hips up to encourage him to spank her again. Fred suddenly lands three hits in a row, causing a few more tears to leak out of her eyes as she moans. “Two, three, four,” she stutters out.

By the time Fred lands the last hit to her ass, Y/N is desperate for release. She’s slowly moving her hips forward, desperate for any kind of friction against her clit. “Daddy please,” she begs.

“Look at my desperate little baby,” he coos, moving Y/N’s hair out of her face so he can see the desperation on it. “Such a good girl you were, princess. Such a good girl for Daddy. C’mere let me kiss you.”

Fred helps Y/N straddle his waist and tucks a few stray hairs behind her ear. He kisses her deeply, his tongue immediately licking into her mouth. Y/N moans into the kiss, rolling her hips against the rough fabric of Fred’s trousers. Fred groans at the contact on his clothed cock, his hips rolling up to meet hers. “God, so fucking desperate for it aren’t you, princess?” he asks as his lips start to trail kisses down her neck.

Y/N nods, tipping her head back to give Fred more room to kiss. “Need you so bad, Daddy. Missed your cock. That’s what I was thinkin’ about in all those photos. Thinkin’ about how much I love your cock and how good it feels inside of me.”

Fred groans into Y/N’s neck and pulls away so he can look at her. “That’s so fucking hot, princess. Imagining you lying in bed, touching yourself and thinking of me.” Fred kisses Y/N again. “Go on and show Daddy how you touch yourself, princess. Get in bed and pleasure yourself for me.”

Y/N crawls off of Fred’s lap and onto the bed, settling down in the middle of it. One of her hands starts to pinch and twist her nipple, while the other runs down her body and settles at her core. She watches as Fred stands up and starts to undress himself, her index finger starting to rub small circles on her clit. “Oh fuck,” she moans, tilting her head back.

Once Fred is fully nude he kneels on the bed next to Y/N’s head and takes himself in his hand. He starts to slowly stroke his cock, his eyes crawling over every inch of Y/N’s body. There’s a flush that creeps up her chest, over her neck and to her cheeks and her hips are slowly rocking as she teases her clit.

“So pretty, princess. You look so pretty touching yourself for Daddy,” Fred praises.

Y/N turns her head to look at Fred as she feels her orgasm approaching. She opens her mouth, silently asking Fred to let her suck him off. When he doesn’t immediately give in, she whines. “Please let me suck your cock, Daddy. Please.”

Fred reaches down with his free hand to cup Y/N’s cheek. “Fucking hell you’re desperate for it princess.” He pushes his hips forward just enough so Y/N can wrap her lips around the head of his cock.

Y/N whines around Fred’s cock, her head starting to move up and down. She lets her tongue wrap around the head on each pull back, wanting Fred to release into her mouth. When he starts to slowly fuck his hips forward she hums around him in encouragement. As her climax builds she starts to rub harder circles on her clit, desperate for release.

“Fuck princess, gonna make Daddy come,” Fred moans, his eyes watching his cock disappear into her mouth.

Y/N’s eyes flutter shut as she reaches her orgasm, her whole body trembling. She moans around Fred’s cock as pleasure flows through her, causing him to suddenly release into her mouth. Her motions on her clit slow down as Fred’s cock twitches in her mouth and she swallows his release. As Fred slowly pulls his cock out of her mouth Y/N stops her movement on her clit, bringing her hand up to clean off her finger.

“Holy fuck,” Fred pants, watching Y/N’s lips wrap around her finger. “You are so fucking amazing,” he says in awe. Fred’s cock which hadn’t even gone fully soft starts to harden again as Y/N looks up at him. “Look at what you do to Daddy, princess. His cock is already hard for you again.”

Y/N smiles as she gets up to her knees. She wraps one hand around his cock and starts to slowly stroke it, while her other goes to his neck so she can pull their lips together. Fred’s mouth immediately overpowers hers, and he forces his tongue into her mouth. Fred is fully hard in Y/N’s hand now, and as they kiss he maneuvers them so he’s sitting with his back up against the wall, and Y/N is sitting in his lap.

“Need your cock Daddy,” Y/N whines, pulling her mouth away from Fred’s. “Fuck me Daddy, please.”

Fred chuckles, his hands falling onto Y/N’s hips. “Go on then, princess. Fuck yourself on my cock since you’re so desperate for it.” Fred suppresses a groan as Y/N grinds down against him. Fred and Y/N have tried nearly every sexual position either of them could think of, and they both know that being on top is low on Y/N’s list of favorites; she much prefers it when Fred holds her down and fucks her into the mattress.

“Daddy,” she pouts, grinding down against him again.

Fred narrows his eyes at her and resists his urge to kiss her. “Princess,” he warns. “If you wanna be a desperate cock slut, then be a desperate cock slut and fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Maybe if you’re a good girl and you come on Daddy’s cock he’ll give you what you want.”

Y/N perks up at that, and she leans forward to kiss Fred slowly as she rises to her knees. One of her hands’ rests on his shoulder, while the other reaches back to grasp the base of his cock.

Fred breaks their kiss so he can watch as Y/N lines him up with her entrance. Y/N whines as she sinks down, her eyes fluttering shut at how full she feels. She sinks down until their hips meet and Fred is fully inside of her.

“Fuck you’re tight, princess. Always so tight for Daddy,” he praises. He groans as Y/N starts to roll her hips, his grip on her tightening. “Go on, baby,” he encourages. “Get yourself off on my cock.”

“Oh,” Y/N moans, her hands gripping Fred’s shoulders tightly. She starts to slowly pick herself up, stopping when Fred is only halfway inside her, before she slams herself back down. “So good, Daddy,” she pants.

Y/N fucks herself on Fred’s cock like that for a few minutes, growing frustrated when she fails to hit the spot inside of her that will bring her to her orgasm. “Daddy please,” she whines.

“Come on, princess. You know how to fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Come around Daddy’s cock and he’ll give you what you want,” he encourages.

Y/N leans back, placing a hand on each of Fred’s thighs and uses the leverage to lift herself up. “Oh fuck,” she gasps as she sinks back down, the tip of Fred’s cock finally brushing her sweet spot.

“You look so pretty, princess. Getting yourself off on my cock,” Fred praises, helping Y/N to lift her hips off of him. “Such a good girl.”

Y/N moans as she fucks herself on Fred’s cock, already feeling her orgasm approaching. She starts to move her hips desperately, searching for her release. “So close, Daddy. Touch me Daddy please,” she pleads.

Fred smirks before he leans forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to Y/N’s lips. “Come on, Princess, come on Daddy’s cock,” he encourages, one of his hands leaving her hip so he can rub circles on her clit.

With one more downwards movement of her hips Y/N’s walls tighten around Fred as she comes, her body shaking as her orgasm rolls through her. “That’s it, princess. Such a good girl,” Fred coos quietly, his thumb slowing its motion and his hips rocking slightly to help her through her orgasm.

Fred kisses Y/N slowly as her breathing starts to return to normal. She shifts around on his cock as their lips move together and it takes everything in Fred to not come right there. “You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight, princess. Doing so well,” he says, breaking their kiss. “Can you take more, baby? D’you want Daddy to fuck you into the mattress?” Fred pecks Y/N’s lips. “It’s okay if you don’t baby. Daddy just wants to take care of you.”

“Want you to come inside me Daddy,” Y/N tells him, looking into Fred’s eyes. “Want you to pin me down and fuck me into the mattress.”

Fred doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Y/N hard and flips them over so her back is on the bed and he’s hovering over her. He throws both of her legs over his shoulders, pinning her to the mattress with his hips. He braces himself with one hand as his other comes up to grip Y/N’s throat and he pulls all the way out before he slams back into her.

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” Y/N moans as Fred starts to fuck into her relentlessly. The tip of his cock is brushing the spot inside of her and she’s already so sensitive from her previous two orgasms, and with the way Fred is gripping the side of her neck she knows she won’t last long.

“God, princess,” Fred grunts as Y/N’s walls clench around him. “Such a good pussy. You always feel go good wrapped around Daddy.” Fred lands a particularly hard slam as Y/N moves to touch herself. “Hands off, princess. Want you to come just from my cock. Can you do that for Daddy?”

Y/N nods, too busy moaning and whining to answer Fred verbally. Her body feels like it’s on fire, her toes curling and her back arching as she reaches her climax. “Daddy,” she moans lowly, as she comes around Fred’s cock, a few stray tears falling from the corners of her eyes.

“Fuck princess,” Fred moans. Y/N’s walls tighten and twitch around him, bringing him to his own release. His hips still as he empties himself inside of her and he crashes their lips together. Fred slows their kiss down as they both recover, unable to stop the smirk that forms on his mouth when Y/N whines as he slowly pulls out of her. Fred collapses on the bed next to Y/N and she immediately cuddles into his side as he wraps his arm around her.

“I love you,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth.  

Fred turns his head so he can kiss her properly, not pulling away until they both need to breathe. “I love you too, Y/N,” he says softly. “Are you alright? Did I go too far?”

Y/N shakes her head, chuckling at Fred’s concern. “Not at all, love. It was incredible.” She pauses so she can press a kiss to his neck. “I’m glad I have the next few days off, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow.”

Fred laughs and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Good thing I have you all to myself because I have quite a few plans for us.”

Y/N looks up at him, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “Oh yeah? What might those be?”

“Let’s just say our cameras are definitely going to need more film when I’m done with you.”

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Needles & Ink, Pt 2 (NSFW)

Lena slips in the back door of the InkSpot. She pauses just inside, absorbing the utter silence that fills the place. Gone is the thumping music, and buzzing of machines. Gone is the bustle of clients coming and going. It's completely and utterly still.

At nearly 4am, it's well past normal operating hours, even for the night crowd. Lena knows she herself ought to be in bed, catching as many winks as she could before her next morning meeting, but-- even after a day of committees and endless reports, Lena is absolutely wired. She'd known tugging on James' door would be a long shot, but when it opened she'd hoped her fellow night owl might be down for a late tattoo session. 

Looking out across the darkened shop, though, it seems more likely that James has simply forgotten to lock the back door. She pulls out her phone, intent on teasing James into oblivion, but freezes when an odd sound drifts out of James' office.

It sounds almost like a moan, but when it's followed by another, longer moan of a different pitch, Lena realizes someone is humming. Someone in the office is humming a Bonnie Tyler song.

Total Eclipse of the Heart, to be exact. 

Lena saunters silently to the office door and leans against it, taking a moment to observe Kara Danvers humming along to the music playing in her ears. She's bent over paperwork, and despite the hour and the solitude a soft smile graces her lips, pulling one to Lena's own face at the sight of it.

"You look good," she says in a low voice.

Kara jumps violently in her seat, jolting the entire desk with the force of her gasp.

"Oh my sweet baby Jesus!!" she exclaims, pressing a hand to her chest. When she looks up, Kara sags at the sight of Lena. "You scared me!"

Lena watches Kara remove her earbuds, and folds her arms over her chest, still leaning against the door frame. "Sorry," she purrs unapologetically. She smiles. "How are you? It's been a while."

"Good, good. I mean, I'm-- I'm in Metropolis! Wait-- you're in Metropolis! What are you doing here??"

Lena gives a tilt of her head. "Business. I may have moved my company to National City, but it still feels as though I do more business here than there these days."

"Right, um..." Kara suddenly looks nervous, casting a worried look past Lena into the hallway. "Sorry, but um.... we're kind of closed? Actually-- how did you get in here?"

Lena huffs a faint laugh. "Back door. James lets me slip in now and then. I was hoping he would have time for a quick session."

"Oh, um... I'm the only one here. Sorry."

"Don't be," Lena smiles. "It's good to see you. Is James treating you well? I don't need to yell at him, do I?"

"Oh, no! No, no, he's been great-- everyone has been really amazing, truly. I couldn't have asked for better hosts. I've been loving it here."

Lena nods, glad to hear it. Pushing off the door jamb, she lets her arms fall, clasping her hands in front of her. "Well, I won't keep you. It was good to see you--"

"W-wait!" Kara jerks to her feet, slamming into the desk yet again in her haste to keep Lena from leaving. Lena pauses, biting back a smile at her clumsiness. "James isn't here, but I am. Why don't we do some more work on your crane?"

"Oh, it's late--"

"No, I-- I mean, I'll text James to make sure it's okay, but... I'm down if you are."

Lena regards her for a long moment. 

"Okay."

--- 

There’s something ethereal in the moments that follow. James gives his blessing, which Kara barely notices past the distraction that is Lena Luthor unbuttoning her blouse. Backlit by a halo of neon light, she looks like a hazy dream, long and beautiful and full of mystery even as she lays herself bare. 

In deference to the late hour, Kara keeps the overheads off, and simply turns on her worklight. The spill of light pulls Lena’s attention to her, catching her watching. In the shadows, Lena smiles coyly. 

“Like what you see?” Lena asks, casting her shirt aside. She takes a wide stance, presenting herself to Kara’s gaze in all her tattooed glory. Maybe it’s the late hour, but Kara allows her gaze to linger, charting a path from the stylized storm brewing at Lena’s collarbones, to the dragon that disappears down one hip. 

“Always,” she murmurs.

Lena looks aside for a moment-- when she looks back, it’s with a heat that sends a bolt of desire straight to Kara’s core. She takes a breath that quakes in her lungs, and then suddenly Lena is there, tucking a wisp of hair behind Kara’s ear.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since our first session,” Lena murmurs. 

A flush heats Kara’s neck and face. “Me either,” she confesses. “I mean. You too--”

Her blunder is swallowed by a kiss. Lena’s lips press against Kara’s, warm and soft and absolutely intoxicating. Kara lifts her hands, framing Lena’s face and pulling her closer to deepen the kiss. She’s rewarded with a muted moan, and Lena’s hands on her hips, thumbs brushing beneath the hem of Kara’s tank top.

“You are so beautiful,” Kara breathes when they part, panting for air. There’s an insistent throbbing between her legs, aching for more. Lena’s hand cups her gently, making her whimper. 

“May I?” Lena whispers against her ear. Biting her lip, Kara nods. Only then does Lena unbutton Kara’s jeans with her long fingers, peeling the denim away to reveal her panties. Kara’s completely forgotten hat she’s wearing until Lena laughs, low and throaty in Kara’s ear.

The pizza panties. Goddammit. 

“I love them,” Lena murmurs, reassuring her. “But I’d love them even better on my bedroom floor.”

Oh god. Kara envisions a clean penthouse apartment, spotless save for the mess of their discarded clothes. But here in the shop? Gross.

“Guess I’ll just have to make do,” Lena says, hitching up the legs of her trousers to kneel between Kara’s legs. In moments, Kara’s pants and panties are both below her hips and a warm tongue sweeps through her folds, collecting the moisture of her arousal in a single taste. Lena hums with pleasure before her thumb gets to work against Kara’s bare clit. 

Kara quivers, nearly staggering as her body reacts. Lena’s hands brace her hips, steadying her. 

“All right there?” she asks, playfully teasing. Kara whimpers with a nod. To her surprise, Lena guides Kara’s leg to rest over her shoulder, until Kara’s stretched and gaping at her very core. “Press against me if you need to.”

Kara nods again. She doesn’t last long. In mere moments she’s moaning and writhing against Lena’s mouth, shuddering as waves of ecstasy roll through her. Lena’s tongue continues to guide her through her orgasm, pressing firmly to calm her through the aftershocks. When she finally pulls away, Kara can’t bend down fast enough to kiss her own taste away from Lena’s lips.

“On the table,” Kara urges, pulling Lena from her knees. She hastily pulls her pants up, but leaves them unfastened as she quickly devotes her attention to the curves of Lena’s body. Lena doesn’t quite make it on top of the table. She settles for leaning against its edge as she kisses Kara soundly, her hands buried in Kara’s hair. 

Kara kisses her messily, wet and sloppy, but Lena can’t seem to get enough. She only pulls her hands away to fumble at the back zipper of her dress pants, until Kara nudges her. “Turn around,” she murmurs.

Lena turns, and Kara carefully unzips her trousers. They fall to her ankles, exposing the rest of Lena’s tattoos. Kara takes a moment to admire them, kneeling to run her hands from Lena’s hip to her ankle, tracing the shape of the tiger clawing up one leg and the dragon coiling down the other. Even in the low light Kara can see the artistry, the mastery of the craft that has been inked into Lena’s skin. And there, curving around Lena’s ribs, a crane peeks out-- Kara’s own offering to the altar that is Lena’s body.

Unlike Kara’s pizza panties, Lena is resplendent in black lace. The fabric hugs Lena’s hips and ass in a tantalizing display. Kara can barely breathe as she stands and runs her fingers across the floral threadwork. Her whimper is eclipsed by a wonton moan from Lena’s throat, her hips pressing out and back against Kara’s hands.

“Kara…”

Lena’s voice is heady, even breathless. It sends a shudder of delirium down Kara’s spine. How is this her life. But Lena’s need is real and evident in the heady utterance, prompting Kara to hook her fingers under the panties and delicately sliding them down Lena’s hips. Every inch of Lena’s inked buttocks steals Kara’s breath, leaving her gasping by the time Lena shifts plaintively in her heels. Finally, Kara cups Lena from behind, and when Kara finds arousal nearly dripping from Lena’s core, she swallows thickly.

“Relax for me, baby girl.”

Lena shudders, sending a gush of fresh warmth into Kara’s palm. Leaning forward, Kara slides one hand down to Lena’s wrist, pressing it against the table as she slips two fingers into Lena’s folds. Gently, she begins to thrust.

“Harder,” Lena gasps almost immediately. She shifts her stance until Kara’s fingers hit a new spot. Kara nods, catching Lena’s gaze when she turns her head to look over one bare shoulder. She increases her speed, adds just a touch more pressure, and is rewarded with a hitch in Lena’s breath. Soon Lena is moaning with every breath, her back glistening with building sweat as her body temperature rises. 

Suddenly, Lena’s body shudders with a piercing moan, her walls clenching tight around Kara’s fingers. Just as she begins to come down, Kara releases Lena’s wrist to slip between her hips and the table to press her thumb against Lena’s clit, rubbing swift, furious circles until Lena crests again with a sharp gasp.

When she recovers, Lena turns against the table to loop her arms around Kara’s neck. Kara wraps herself around Lena’s bare skin, nuzzling against her neck, nibbling at her pulse point. 

“You’re incredible,” Lena murmurs. 

Kara hums against Lena’s neck. 

“I’m not finished yet.”

---

Kara draws back to wipe her hair from her eyes. Lena lays before her on a freshly sterilized table in nothing but her bra and panties, looking sleepy and relaxed despite the blood stippling to the surface of her skin.

“You know,” Kara observes, “not everyone would follow sex with a tattoo chaser.”

Lena smiles. “Their loss,” she murmurs. “I highly recommend it.”

Forgoing the use of a stencil, Kara had freehanded the plumage of the crane directly onto Lena’s skin, and already she could see the bird coming to life.

Kara smirks. “Not everyone is a masochist.”

“Imagine tattooing while having sex,” Lena drawls. “Now that would be kinky.”

A laugh bursts out of Kara, earning a deep grin from Lena. With her hair loose and sweaty, Lena is a veritable dream-- to have her skin under Kara’s needle is an honor on a bed of honors. The atmosphere is slow and silky around them, like the world outside has slowed to a standstill without them. Kara savors every moment, lest it all slip away. 

“So how has Metropolis treated you so far?” Lena asks, watching Kara dip her needle in fresh ink. She relaxes back when Kara approaches, allowing her easy access to the tattoo site. She doesn’t flinch when Kara resumes. “Still taking walk-ins? Besides me, of course.”

Kara grins, even as she focuses on what she’s doing. “You’re the first one I’ve taken in weeks, actually. Most people are looking for big, personal pieces, so the walk ins don’t really happen you know?” She pauses. “I’ve already started booking back at Argo, since my time here is already booked up.”

“Really? Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” Kara can’t help but blush. “But you know… something tells me I probably have you to thank for all this.”

Lena regards her. “Oh? How so?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re the only canvas I’ve worked on that James Olsen would have seen.”

Lena’s lips part in a silent ah. She regards Kara for a long moment, before reaching out a hand to halt Kara’s ministrations. With a single touch, she pulls Kara’s entire attention to her. 

“I didn’t suggest anything, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Kara doesn’t respond, and thereby tips her hand: it’s exactly what she’s afraid of. That a top-paying client threatened to withdraw their business unless James agreed to take on an unknown artist from a strip mall in National City.

Lena cups her cheek gently.

“All I did was show James the work you’d done-- as I would for any piece I was proud of.” She holds Kara’s gaze, allowing her to see the truth in Lena’s eyes. “Anything he did after that is entirely on you and your body of work. Do you hear me?”

Kara releases a shaky breath, laughing slightly. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “I hear you.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her arm. “Now lay back so I can finish.”

Lena does so, but her eyes don’t leave Kara. Kara can feel her gaze linger, until she’s too immersed in her art to be aware of anything else. 

---

“This,” Lena says hours later, pressing cash into Kara’s hand, “is for the tattoo. Just to be clear.”

Without even looking at it, Kara tucks it away. “Good to know.”

“Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” Lena winks, earning a chuckle in return.

“Right. Absolutely. But you know…”

“Hmmm?”

Kara tugs Lena closer by the hips, bringing their fronts flush together. Taing advantage of their proximity, Kara kisses her deeply. “You’re going to need some touch ups.”

Lena smiles against her, then kisses her again. 

“Well, then…. I guess I’ll just have to see you again.”

“You will.” Kara creeps her hands playfully up Lena’s shirt, only for Lena to pull away with a good natured laugh.

“I have to go, but, ah… I’ll see you later?”

Kara watches Lena back away towards the rear entrance, a smile ever present on her lips.

“Yeah. You will.”

It’s not until long after Lena leaves that Kara realizes. 

She didn’t get Lena’s phone number.

[melo-yello]

💤Can’t Sleep💤 w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku🪨💥 HeadCanons

Pairing(s): KiriBaku X black!reader, Eijirou Kirishima X Katsuki Bakugou X black!reader

A/N: fluff and ANGST. Like lots of ANGST. I had a rough week and honestly not very much sleep. What can I say. Sue me, I wanna hug and somebody to watch a movie with.

💤💥🪨 Lay on your stomach opening and closing your eyes as you try and convince yourself to sleep. Kirishima snores softly with an arm around Bakugou’s waist. He’s been pretty stressed lately so he gets to be middle spoon. Baku in turn has an arm draped over your shoulders.

💤💥🪨 The soft and peaceful looks on the boys’ faces are nothing but safe and warm and reassuring . Yet here you are unavailable to close your eyes long enough to drift off to sleep. Each time you close your eyes your heart attempts to tear a whole through your chest. The dim red light of the clock reads 2:56 as you slip out of Baku’s embrace for a glass of water

💤💥🪨 You settle on Jasmine tea instead. Quietly pulling a the kettle from the cabinet and turning on the tap just before placing it on the stove. You busy yourself in your phone in order to banish any form of thought from your head. Soon just blankly browsing through TikToks as you wait for the water to boil

💤💥🪨 The hair on the back of your neck stands at attention as you hear heavy footsteps and the creaking of the bedroom door. Short angry grumbles are traded with deep groggy grunts as the footsteps close in on your position. You glance up to see the time is now 3:22 and you hear the kettle whistling for the first. Mostly likely what woke your boyfriends to begin with. You scowl at the kettle.

💤💥🪨 “fuck you.” you curse under your breath snatching up the kettle to quiet it’s shouting as the two set of red eyes fix on you in the dim light of kitchen. Kiri’s long red hair pulled back into a messy plat, and Baku’s fluffy ash blonde sticking out in all directions except for the right side flatten to the side of his skull

💤💥🪨 “Oí, Chuchu Soul, do you have any idea what time it is?!!” Baku squints tiredly placing a hand on his hip. “That’s actually a good one.” You giggle surprised by his creativity. “I know right?! And they used to call him uncreative.” Kirishima smirks between a yawn. “ Well?” Bakugou’s features don’t change. More likely mad that he’s awake at this ungodly hour than anything else. “Was it another panic attack, Pebble?” Kiri questions walking to rest his hand on your lower back. You don’t acknowledge his soft gesture and busy yourself with pouring the newly hot water into your large mug with it’s awaiting tea bag.

💤💥🪨 “Run that shit back, Eiji?!? When was this?” Bakugou’s foggy apathetic sleepiness raises to concerned confusion . You curse under your breath for the third time tonight. Kiri racks his tired brain for an explanations as he trades tired glances between the temperamental blonde and the vaguely suspicious one blowing at tea. “Pebble you didn’t tell him about Friday Night?” He frowns looking down at you. “...i forgot...” you whisper sipping the overly hot tea and burning your tongue. Hell you wouldn’t have told him either, but he was right beside you when it happened.

💤💥🪨 That Friday night. You couldn’t speak. You stood in a dark room. Small and cramped. No windows. No doors. Just glowing ink on one wall in barely legiable font. Prove It. As soon as you touched the lettering it went blood red and the water began to pool at your feet. You begin to lose your composure trying to find an exit. In seconds the water is at your waist. Then your neck. Then the ceiling. Like that you’re choking and sputtering trying to find. The walls go translucent. Larger than life figures with unmistakable silhouettes and Pro hero customs hold your box in each hand. You bang tight fists to gain their attention. Your blood mixes with the water and you could barely breath. You thrashed across the sheets desperately trying to snatch yourself from your current nightmare. Suddenly Kiri shaking you awake and he’s coaching you into breathing again.

💤💥🪨 The memory of utter helplessness washes over you all over again. You sigh in frustration as tears pool at the corner of your eyes. “Come here, Pebs.”

💤💥🪨 Without another word, Kiri scoops you up bridal style and takes a seat on the couch placing you in his lap. Baku takes the seat next to him gently taking the hot tea from your trembling hands. You hadn’t even realized they were shaking until you touched his steady ones. “Babes, we hafta talk about this. Including Friday, this makes 3 days of shitty sleep. That’s not good or sustainable, Knucklehead.” Bakugou sighs placing the mug on the coffee table before wiping away a tear rolling down your cheek.

💤💥🪨 “It’s not like I don’t wanna do better, Kats. Eiji. I’m just...” you trail off mid explanation. You clasp fingers over your soft lips. Opening twice to speak, but only croaks come out. You try very hard to find a tangible reason for your reluctance to sleep, but there were none. Kiri squeezes your shoulders reassuringly and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your bonnet.

💤💥🪨 “We know you’re trying, love. It’s ok to be scared sometimes. Even the resident hardass, Katsuki still gets nightmares.” Kiri offers doing his best to let you ride these feelings out while comforting you as well. “Yea.”Baku’s grip tightens at the mention of his own nightmares before leaning his head on your legs

💤💥🪨 “I just can’t trust it ok! It’s scary. I’m panicking in sleep now?!! I’m only getting worse and now I crying about. FUCK! I’m just a scared bitchy crybaby who can’t sleep.” You sigh overwhelmed by all the physical closeness and their consistent and unwavering support. You mentally kick yourself for the not realizing sooner that you trusted them enough to hurt like this in front of them. There’s something that unnerves you about that. Tears streaming at full force at this piont

💤💥🪨Kiri holds you firmly to chest tucking your shaking form under his chin. Baku moves to wrap an embrace overlapping Kiri’s arms. “Just let it all out, Babygirl.” He hums leaning his head on your shoulder. Your chest tightens and your fingers curl into angry fists. Suddenly your frighteningly fierce temper rears it’s ugly head.

💤💥🪨 “No no no NO! Stop It! STOP ACTING SO NICE! STOP ACTING LIKE I DESRVE THIS! BE DISAPPOINTED! BE UPSET!! TELL ME TO TRY HARDER! TELL ME TO TAKE BETTER CARE OF MYSELF! TELL ME IT’S EASY! REALLY EASY! BE ANGRY I’M FUCKING IT ALL UP! BLAME ME! I BLAME ME! I blame me... I blame me for not being...better.” You fume trying to push them away. You do your best to squirm out of their gentle comfort and tender embrace your lovers have you wrapped in. Neither one of your boys moves. “No way, Pebs.” Kirishima says resolutely. “Not a fucking chance, Teddy.” Bakugou nods with the same unchanging confidence. The rage in your chest melts as fat tears and roll down your brown cheeks.

💤💥🪨 A heaving and broken sob racks your entire body as you fall apart in their arms. Anger subsides into terrified uncertainty and overwhelming futility settles in its place. Tears and mucus flood down your face and soak Kiri’s t-shirt. Sniffles from above draws you out of the dark thoughts swarming around you. Surely enough tears drip slowly down Kiri’s cheeks. Instinctively you cup his face with trembling hands. “...Sorry.. I’ll be strong...just gimme a sec” he mutters as his broad shoulders slump and he moves to bat away the falling droplets. Bakugou grabs his hand and kisses it while wiping the red head’s face. “Eijirou, you don’t have to. Not right now” You sputter between choppy breaths.

💤💥🪨 His usually unwavering features muddy with insecurity. A fairly uncommon expression for someone so death defyingly optimistic and confident. “But it’s what I’m good at. If I can’t be strong for the people I love most then what good am I?” He retorts apathetically tightening his grip as the tears still trickle. You slink an arm around his hips, and place your face to his chest. “Bullshit. You’re plenty strong enough for us, Eijirou. Stop being so hard headed!” Bakugou raves putting a hand behind his neck and his forehead against his for emphasis before continuing, “You’re allowed to feel more than one thing. You are complex and unique and fearless and fearful all in one. You’re human, Eiji. It’s ok.”

💤💥🪨 “Katsuki, you’re so compassionate and kind.” You hum softly and absentmindedly almost. You don’t know why this observation came but it just feels right. Eiji smiles leaning in the blonde’s embrace. “Honestly Kats, you love remarkably deep and painfully unselfishly. Thank you.” Kiri hums kissing his cheek and you do the same. Hot little tears rest at the corners of his dark red eyes. Most of the public thinks he’s some kind of angry asshole devoid of any softer emotions. Comments on your relationship often criticized Katsuki for snagging partners ‘much nicer than he deserved’. And just like that you are scooting over to make room for Bakugou in Kiri’s lap. 

💤💥🪨 “Such a shitty little week.” Baku sighs with misty eyes. There’s a small comfort in the collective collapse washing over the three of you. All of you holding the hurt from the others in hopes it would just fizzle away like a bad dream. It didn’t. You sob, Kiri sniffles, and Baku lets two hot tear slip from his glassy eyes. None of you break contact with each other. Your fingers linked with Kiri and Baku’s in the opposite hand. A head glued affectionately onto the red head’s broad shoulder. After what seems like a lifetime and you can’t cry anymore and feeling a surprising amount of relief sinks onto you, you clear your throat.

💤💥🪨 “Wanna watch How to Train a Dragon?” You rasp with tired and strained vocal chords. “I’ll get the popcorn.” Kiri sighs kissing each of you on the cheek as he ushers you both out of his lap. He sashays into the kitchen to find a bowl and the popcorn. Baku stands handing you your cool tea as he grabs the remote. Flipping decisively through Amazon Prime, he queues up the movie as he settles onto the far side of the couch to lay out fully. You sip contently tucking your knees to your chest so you can press the soles of your feet into his. “That tickles.” Bakugou deadpans wiggling his own toes. Soft giggles flutter out of your chest.

💤💥🪨 Kiri strolls back in the room with two large bowls of popcorn and a blanket on each arm. He bows presenting them to their proper owners. Movie theater butter for Baku and kettle corn for you two to share. You sit your now empty mug on the coffee table as Kiri retakes his original spot and you settle comfortably into his lap cocooning you both in a cozy weighted blanket. Baku draped in a light throw typically the first to complain about being hot. The DreamWorks title sequence floats across the screen, and wave of peacefulness falls over the tired trio. Less then five minutes in, you and Bakugou snore quietly as Kiri’s heavy eyelids fight to watch the next couple scenes

[mrs-march-ahs]

Hi! I have a request~ The Evans reactions to losing in any sort of game. Can be board games or video games 😅

The Evans Losing At Games

Headcannons for all, imagines for some!

Cute idea, thank you! I didn’t write much for Jimmy, I’m sorry Jimmy I love you<3

Enjoy:)

Tate

-Clearly a teenage boy who lets emotions build up a lot -Definitely cheats if he’s had enough -If he keeps losing in the same part of the video game and rage quits, it takes him forever to get back into the game - “Ohhhh… I forgot that’s where I let off… fuck it” (quits) -Much better and calmer at playing cards, and generally prefers games were the two of you can talk and he doesn’t have to focus too much

--

You laid on your bed, scrolling aimlessly through social media, and occasionally glancing at Tate playing a video game he hasn’t played in a while. When you started talking about games, and you told him you had it, he nostalgically reminisced how much he used to play it when he was alive, so you set it up for him. Every few minutes, when a red screen would pop up, Tate would sigh, and with every passing death, his sighs got louder and angrier.

After only maybe half an hour of playing, Tate clearly couldn’t take it anymore, and threw the control towards the floor, before stomping over to shut the console and TV off. The sound made you flinch, and you had never seen Tate angry before. Nor his body language nor face showed his emotions, just his actions, and when he flopped by your side, he looked fine. If somebody had come in right now, they would just see two teenagers laying next to each other.

“Uhhh… you okay?”, you ask, before rolling over to face him. You poke at his chubby cheek as he stares up at the ceiling and tease him. “Sore loser”.

“Shut up, it’s your fault. You reminded me why I wasn’t allowed to play this game for very long”.

“Wanna play something else? Together? We could play Dragon Ball Z?”, you ask quietly, before going back to your childish sing-song teasing. “Be nice, and I’ll even let you win a few times!”

Tate looks over at you and huffs, before sitting up and getting the controllers, “Good thing you’re used to begging me for mercy”

Kit

-Least sore loser out of them all -Always up for a rematch -He’s pleasant even when he does win - “Want a rematch sugar? So you can have another shot at beating me?” - “Ah you were close, you’re getting good” - “You’re a good rival” - “If I lose, you can drag me to that Rom Com you wanted to see” - “If I win, we make more babies” -Pretends to be competitive when he’s playing with the kids - “I would say Team Girls vs Team Boys… but that’s not fair, the two of you don’t even stand a chance, right Tommy?” -If one of the kids beat him, he’d act super dramatically to give them as much satisfaction of winning -Laser tag is 34 years before Kit’s time, but if he played something like that, he’d try to let the kids win

--

You ran around the garden and chased a giggling Julia. Because of current financial issues, the power was out, but not wanting to worry the children to much, and not wanting them to ask too many questions, you and Kit decided to make the most of the sun and tire them out before it got dark. Kit, being the big kid he is, suggested playing a tag-like game Thomas invented, where you each get three pebbles each, and try to get each other out by throwing them. Gently. Unless you were throwing them at Kit.

Julia started slowing down when she reached the corner of the house, hoping to hide from you, but you were right behind her, making her turn around and burst out in giggles. When the 5-year-old laughed, the only thing you could see was the missing tooth she donated to the tooth fairy last night. Once you circled all around the house, you come back in view of the garden, and see Julia hiding behind Kit.

“That’s cheating!”, he exclaims, trying to run away from her and toss a pebble in her direction, only for her to do it faster. The second Julia’s tiny rock hits Kit’s tummy and bounced, he put his hands over his stomach and held it like a gun wound. He dropped to the floor dramatically, leaving the two little kids to die of laughter, and you walk over to him, Kit peeping open one eye slightly to see if you were watching him, and then stuck his tongue out to play dead. You picked up a stick from the floor and poked at his chest, making Kit chuckle but quickly hide it.

“Is it dead?”, you ask.

Thomas leans in closer to look at his dad on the floor, before Kit opens his eyes and pulls Tommy to the floor with him, rolling over to be on top of him.

“I win!”, Kit announces, before kissing his son on the cheek.

Franken Kyle

-He doesn’t particularly play complicated games, but he isn’t too patient and gets frustrated with himself pretty easily -If on one of his educational games, he messes something up too many times in a row, he’ll shut off the game and throw the tablet on the bed -He’ll avoid even looking at it -If he loses a tickle fight he’ll sit and whine, straddle you and then tickle you until you beg him to stop -Whines even if he loses at rock paper scissors -He likes colouring and drawing, and because it’s good for his motor skills, the two of you made a really simple game together -You drew out a long snake shape on a big piece of paper and drew lines in between for the spaces -Kyle carefully coloured them in with pencil and with a marker you wrote occasional things like ‘Go back two spaces’ or ‘Go forward three spaces’ -Sweet little Ky would roll the dice, and take his time, pushing his little figurine, which was something like a pencil sharpener or a bottle cap, and counted out the spaces -Got super excited if he won, but wouldn’t mind losing -He would insist the two of you keep playing, and you’re only allowed to stop and go to bed if you end on him winning -Sometimes he would try to let you win so that you could keep playing -Whine and pout if you had to stop playing, and how are you meant to say no to him? -You would have to promise you’ll play tomorrow -You’d be able to slowly make more and more complicated games, until eventually he’d be able to play things like checkers or Ludo

Jimmy

-Lowkey a sore loser -If there were loads of different people playing, he would be a lot more friendly -If he lost, he would still be super annoyed, but just wouldn’t show it -But if it was the two of you, he’d be super competitive -The type of person to flip the board game if he was losing -But he’d apologise straight away and pout if you didn’t want to play with him again - “C’mon let’s play again, I’ll be nice this time” - “Loser gets spanked” -Loves playing games like beer pong

James

-Unpleasant loser but also not a pleasant winner -Bitter compliments if you win at cards - “Well done darling, who would have thought with your high school education you were such a poker master” -Only willing to play the same 5 card games, because if you teach him a new board game he is not familiar with and he loses, he’ll claim it’s only because he’s new to the game -Absolutely infuriated if he loses at Monopoly, since he built a hotel after all -Don’t even bother trying to teach him how to play a video game -And of course - “Only amateurs keep score”

--

“What are you doing, dear?”, James said, fascinated at your little character wandering around a shop, on the screen in front of both of you.

“I’m trying to buy this plant, but I don’t have enough money, I want to see if I can sell anything I have”, you explain, pointing at your backpack filled with items that you can exchange for spare coins.

“Nonsense, darling, why don’t you simply stab the storekeeper and steal what you desire?”

“Because this is Animal Crossing, James, there isn’t a stab button”

Kai

-Kai likes playing video games or board games with literally anybody apart from you -He likes playing with Ozzy because he’s a kid so most of the time Kai can beat him easily -Definitely not the type of person to let the kid win, even if Ozzy is sobbing and Ally asks him to let Ozzy win once in a while - “Winning fairly will feel so much better for him” - “He won’t appreciate success if he doesn’t first taste failure” -Sometimes instead of story time with his troops he’ll play some board games -At first, everybody will keep letting Kai win out of fear -But eventually someone will win, and everybody else will be fearful for them, scared Kai will be angry - “Finally somebody capable, somebody strong, not scared to show their true capabilities” -But if you ask him to play a game with you, he probably won’t -If you eventually beg enough that he will agree to play a game with you, he’ll tell you he’s only playing one -If you win, he’ll be like, “Okay, are you happy now?” - “Finally it’s over” - “I let you win, are you happy?” -But if he wins, he’ll try to get you to play a few more games - “Are you giving up already?” - “Don’t be a sore loser, rise up to the challenge” - “I assumed you wanted to win, not just to play”

- (Kai loses) “See… you have to give a humiliated man a chance to redeem himself in his own ey-”

[mikauzoran]

Mikau’s Drawings Level Up

Here’s my latest set of drawings. I feel like my skills have really leveled up in this one. I’m starting to add shading (which I still haven’t been taught how to do) and details. I feel like I’ve come a long way in the month I’ve been working on learning to draw, and I’m proud of my progress. I’m also excited to keep learning and getting better so that I can eventually do illustrations for my stories.

Anyway. In the meantime, in the top left corner is my second attempt at the pineapple. I don’t love the stem as much, but I’m much happier with the body.

Below that is a Chinese vase that I inherited from my coworker D’s brother. She knows about my background in east Asian languages and culture, so she was kind enough to offer a lot of cool stuff like the vase to me when her brother died and she was cleaning out his house.

The vase has a dragon on the front, but there was no way I was taking on that challenge, so I just did the clouds on the back of the vase. The neck needs to be a little longer, but I’m happy with how this turned out.

Next, I did this rose-shaped votive candle holder. My mum has all kinds of decorative objects like this around the house, so I’m having fun borrowing them and drawing all kinds of different shapes. The candle holder was kind of a witch, though. Like, it took me an hour and a half. I think it turned out pretty well, but I felt completely in over my head the whole time I was drawing it. XD I tried some shading, but I honestly didn’t know where to begin. I think this was a little too complex for me at this point. But I did it! XD

Below the candle holder is another one of my mother’s tissue box covers. It turned out pretty well too. I challenged myself to add all of the details I could, and it was hard. It didn’t turn out exactly right, but I got pretty darn close, so I’m pleased with it.

In the top right corner, I drew a little milk carton. I had fun putting in all of the extra details like the barcode and the writing and designs on the front. It was really hard to make the writing recede into space on an angle like that. I don’t think I quite managed it. ^.^; Oh, well. We’re covering perspective in my drawing class too, so I’ll learn soon enough how to do it better. I’m very pleased with how straight my lines look, though. I did it freehand, so it’s not perfect, but I think it looks pretty good.

Please ignore the croissant on the plate in the bottom right corner. -.-; It didn’t turn out well. I got the shape of the croissant right for the most part, but the shading and making the croissant look like it’s actually sitting on the plate didn’t go very well. I was also trying to do the shadow cast by the plate and the reflection of the plate on the table, but...yeah. Oh, well. XD I tried, and I’ve come a long way since my teapot doodles, so that’s an accomplishment.

Above is a picture of the Chinese vase, the rose-shaped votive candle holder, and the tissue box with the tissue box cover over it.

Below is a picture of a croissant on a plate sitting on a table so that you can kind of see what I was trying to do with the shadows and reflection. XD I’ll get it next time.

Thanks for reading!

[robininthelabyrinth]

NMJ is the only one that knows bc he’s the only one that NHS truly trusts, he’s the only one who knows why NHS focuses so much in painting and art, NHS doesn’t know why or how but with a little bit of spiritual energy he’s able to bring what he paints in paper to the real world and with that the Nie sect has the beasts of legends under their command

on ao3

“How about you draw a flower?” Nie Mingjue said without much conviction. It was hard to have conviction when you knew it was pointless.

“No!” Nie Huaisang shouted, unsurprisingly, because toddlers always shouted. They seemed to have a great deal of feelings and sound for such small frames. “Taotie!”

Nie Mingjue grimaced. “No, no, not Taotie,” he said quickly. Never Taotie, not again. “How about the Baihu? Nice fuzzy tiger?”

“No!”

“Fenghuang? You like birds.”

Nie Huaisang considered it. “I like birds,” he agreed.

Nie Mingjue heaved a sigh of relief. “Me, too,” he said enthusiastically. “I love birds.”

He had never had especially strong feelings about birds, but he was willing to develop some.

“Okay,” Nie Huaisang said, and patted his thigh comfortingly. “I’ll draw you a bird, da-ge.”

“…thanks,” Nie Mingjue said.

When Nie Huaisang was done, he proudly presented Nie Mingjue with the results of his work.

Nie Mingjue put the baby phoenix in the new aviary he’d secretly had constructed behind his father’s back, thinking to himself that the high-grade construction materials he’d insisted on were totally worth losing his allowance for the next year.

The phoenix chick - it looked like a plucked chicken with maybe three feathers total - weakly coughed smoke.

Because of course it did.

Sometimes Nie Mingjue wished that he could just tell someone about Nie Huaisang’s unusual gift – it was a pretty big burden to bear, and he really wasn’t sure he was old enough for this type of responsibility – but no one else deserved to know. If they didn’t have the good taste to like Nie Huaisang when he was no one and nobody, pointless and useless, they didn’t deserve the benefits of knowing him now that he could do stuff.

Even if it was weird stuff. 

Stuff like his ability to summoning the things he drew into existence. 

Even things that might not really exist.

Besides, the thought of Nie Huaisang getting wrapped up into war and politics when he was still so young –

No, better to just store away what he made and hope he grew out of it.

And no more Taoties.

-

“Lan Zhan said his uncle shows people his artwork,” Nie Huaisang said, sitting on Nie Mingjue’s table in the family study. “Why don’t you ever show my artwork?”

“You do art?” their father asked absently, most of his attention on the report he was reading.

“Huaisang does great calligraphy,” Nie Mingjue interjected very quickly. “You’ve seen it – it’s beautiful. And his poems are very well crafted, too.”

“But Lan Zhan said –”

Nie Mingjue mentally resigned himself to not being friends with Lan Xichen any longer, no matter how well they’d gotten along, on the basis that the other boy would probably take it personally when Nie Mingjue murdered his brother.

“He also said stuff about rules,” he said. “Hundreds and hundreds of rules. Do you want to listen to all of those, too?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said sulkily, five years old and bitter with it. “But…”

“How about we show Lan Wangji your aviary?” Nie Mingjue coaxed. “Go ask him if he’d like to see it. I bet he’s never seen anything like that – and you can ask him what type of animal he likes best, too!”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes went wide at the thought and he dashed off.

“You spoil him far too much,” their father commented. “An aviary – you talk about it more than he does, and you’re always getting birds to fill it up for him, too. Why are you so devoted to him learning to like birds?”

“Better than him liking fierce beasts,” Nie Mingjue said, omitting to mention exactly where he obtained the birds that filled the aviary. “Or corpses.”

“If he liked fierce beasts, perhaps he’d be more martially inclined.”

No, we would be, Nie Mingjue thought. He’d gotten a lot of spare practice with Baxia trying to fight corpses that had no business being there during the period in which Nie Huaisang had gotten temporarily interested in the things in his father’s stories – and that was before Nie Huaisang had learned about yao.

“I don’t want him growing up morbid, that’s all,” he said.

“You’re his brother, not his nursemaid,” their father said, a little exasperated. “Nor are you his mother. Why are you fussing over him so?”

Nie Mingjue huffed and shook his head. “How goes recruitment for the border?” he asked instead, and listened to his father tell him about how people barely a year or two older than him were being sent to risk death in the name of sect honor.

Not Nie Huaisang, he promised himself. Not yet.

He’d tell his father when Nie Huaisang was old enough to handle the consequences.

-

“Huaisang, didi,” Nie Mingjue said, and tried to smile, even though it pained him. “Can you do me a favor? A really, really big favor?”

Nie Huaisang sniffed, clutching at his arms and shaking. “What, da-ge?”

“You remember Jiwei? A-die’s saber? Can you draw that for me, please?”

It only made it worse.

-

“Da-ge?”

“Yes, Huaisang?” Nie Mingjue asked, scowling at the map. It didn’t get any better the longer he looked at it, but maybe if he kept glaring he could cow it into submission.

“Don’t you want me to help?”

Nie Mingjue looked up at where Nie Huaisang was wringing his hands by the door. “Help? With what?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him, like it was Nie Mingjue being dense instead of him having started a conversation in the middle. “Uh, with border defense?”

“Why would I ask you to help with that?” Nie Mingjue asked blankly, then realized how his words could be misconstrued. “Not that I wouldn’t ask you to help, of course, but you’ve never really liked battlefield strategy, and anyway you are only twelve –”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang whined. “I meant drawing!”

“…as in maps?”

Nie Huaisang’s glare could light fires.

Nie Mingjue coughed and put aside his work to focus on his brother. “Huaisang, why do you think I would use your drawings in planning out a possible battle?”

“Because they’re useful?” Nie Huaisang said, crossing his arms. “I can make things appear, da-ge, just by drawing them. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but that’s not something that normal people can do.”

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said. “It’s not. But just because it’s not normal doesn’t mean it’s not a wonderful ability, Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang looked a little bit appeased.

“But just because it’s wonderful doesn’t mean I’m going to abuse your ability,” Nie Mingjue continued. “You should be playing, not working, and if anyone tells you otherwise, you tell me and I’ll straighten them out.”

Nie Huaisang came up and hugged him. “So it’s not that you’re not ashamed of me being weird and useless?”

“I think we’ve already established that an ability like yours is far from useless. And I don’t care how weird you are, principles are principles: you’re too young to be used for battle. Sorry, Huaisang; my hands are tied.”

Nie Huaisang laughed at him and left, looking much happier.

-

“So what would you like?” Nie Huaisang asked, eyes sparkling. “Me and my brush are at the ready, here to help!”

Nie Mingjue rubbed his forehead. “If you’re sure…”

“Da-ge! I’m seventeen – you were already sect leader for two years by my age. And it’s not like I’m going out there on the front lines or anything; I’m just going to draw some stuff for you.”

“You say ‘just’,” he grumbled. “It does drain your qi, you know. That’s why you took such a long time to form a golden core…”

“Yes, but I did get there eventually, didn’t I? And anyway, it’s fine, I’ll do it instead of my usual landscapes. What would you like? A dragon to devour our enemies? The white tiger, nipping at their heels? A taotie –”

“No Taotie.”

“You’re so weird about that,” Nie Huaisang complained, rolling his eyes again. “Fine. Then what?”

“Sabers,” Nie Mingjue said, giving in. “Standard steel, not spiritual. Horses, feed, saddles. Say, how are you at drawing arrows?”

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said. “I can draw you the beasts of legend, and you want me to draw you arrows?”

“Yes. As many as you can bring yourself to create, really; everyone’s always short on arrows. More rice would be good, too –”

“This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting when I volunteered to help,” Nie Huaisang grumbled.

“Are you going to do it for me or not?” Nie Mingjue asked, unimpressed. “You asked me to use you, not to give you an art project.”

His brother heaved a sigh. “Yes, yes, I will. Can you explain to me why this is your choice, at least?”

Nie Mingjue ruffled his brother’s hair. “Huaisang, when you draw something, it comes to life. Fully to life, as a separate and independent creature of its own – if you draw a dragon, who’s to say that the dragon will choose to fight the Wen sect, instead of turning on us? It wouldn’t be much help if we had to run out, sabers drawn, to deal with whatever it was, only to be exhausted before the Wen sect even arrived.”

“…oh.”

“When we’ve made some progress in the field, I promise to let you help build fortifications,” Nie Mingjue said. “You can start thinking of really nasty traps –”

“Da-ge?”

“Yes?”

“…is that why you hate the idea of me drawing Taotie so much?”

Nie Mingjue coughed.

“Da-ge!”

“Don’t worry about it. It was always really good saber practice…”

-

“And if anyone tries anything against you at the camp, you draw something really mean, okay?” Nie Mingjue said, pressing paper and a brush into his brother’s hand in addition to the ones he’d hidden away in his luggage - there was a chance that might be confiscated upon his arrival. “I don’t care what it is.”

“I know, I know –”

“Promise me!”

“I will!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “I promise already!”

“Not just if they’re aggressive. Even if things just look suspicious –”

“Suspicious? Like what?”

“If they take you somewhere secluded,” Nie Mingjue said, face drawn with worry. “Somewhere where it’d take us a long time to find your bodies. I don’t care if you put other people in danger from your creation, okay? Don’t make me have to find your corpse.”

Nie Huaisang was silent for a moment. “I understand,” he finally said. “I promise.”

-

“I’m never drawing anything legendary ever again,” Nie Huaisang sniffed into Nie Mingjue’s collar. “That Xuanwu was awful. It tried to eat all of us!”

-

“Do you want me to help with the logistics, Sect Leader Nie?” Meng Yao asked.

“You already help with the logistics,” Nie Mingjue said, not really paying attention. If it was serious, Meng Yao would bring it to his attention – he was a truly remarkable aide-de-camp. “You already help with everything.”

“I appreciate Sect Leader Nie’s confidence in me,” Meng Yao said, smiling a little. “But no, I meant – with the imports.”

“Imports?”

“Every week we receive new shipments of goods – food, weapons, defenses – from Qinghe, and we don’t send any money back. Surely such expenditures are putting a strain on the Nie treasury..?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Nie Mingjue said. “Huaisang is handling it. It’s good for him to have responsibility.”

Meng Yao looked a little skeptical, but in his defense, he’d met Nie Huaisang.

“Really,” Nie Mingjue assured him. “He’s not going to hurt our budget – it’ll be fine. They’ve come steadily every week so far, haven’t they?”

“If Sect Leader Nie is content, then so am I,” Meng Yao said, but he was pouting a little, perhaps at the perceived lack of trust. He did so love to be helpful.

“You know I trust you with my life,” Nie Mingjue told him. “But this is something that Huaisang is, for once, best placed to handle. Don’t worry about it.”

It wasn’t really his secret to share, after all. Maybe when the war was done.

-

Nie Mingjue was on his back in the throne room of the Fire Palace, staring up at the man who murdered his father and who was about to murder him, too, when he heard the sound.

A high-pitched squeal, unlike anything else he’d ever heard – a little like a pig, a little like a wolf, a little like the long slow grate of metal against metal. It burned on the ear, a vile sound on the verge of being physically painful.

“What is that?” Wen Ruohan asked, frowning. He was standing above Nie Mingjue, his foot crushing down on his chest; Baxia was out of reach, knocked away, but at least no longer in the traitor Meng Yao’s hands. “Meng Yao…?”

“I - I’m not sure, Sect Leader Wen,” Meng Yao said, looking equally confused.

Nie Mingjue laughed.

They both looked at him.

He grinned up at them, blood in his teeth.

“What?” he said. “Never heard a Taotie before?”

[earnestly-endlessly]

Hi, how are you? Your blog is amazing and your recommendations have already allowed me to read wonderful stories, so thank you so much! I wonder if you could suggest me any cherik fics of them as detectives? I remember reading one a long time ago, but unfortunately I don't know the name and even less the synopsis. Thank you in advance for your help.

Thank you so much @remember5novemberv for your kind words. I'm so sorry this took me so long but I hope you enjoy this list. There are some excellent detective AUs in this fandom so you're in for a treat.

Cherik Detective AUs

Their Mouths Always Lie – keire_ke

Summary: Charles adheres to most police protocols like they are a personal code of conduct. Erik gets things done and over with, for better or worse. Raven knows what she's doing, most of the time. The serial killer kills, regardless. Police AU.

Guilty by Association – Reagan

Summary: While investigating the homicide of a John Doe who he suspects might've been murdered while working the streets as a prostitute, Detective Erik Lehnsherr finds an unexpected ally in a hooker named Charles who seems as determined as he to solve the case. As they become more deeply involved both with the case and each other, there's just one thing that Charles neglects to mention -- that he's really an investigative journalist, one quickly convinced that what they're dealing with is more than simple murder. cop!Erik, fake-hooker-slash-reporter!Charles, Modern AU.

Incy Wincy Spider – Tawabids

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a renowned homicide detective, with his husband Charles at home and his partner on the job, Moira MacTaggert. When a twisted serial killer starts targeting mutants, Erik and Moira are the perfect team for the job, especially since Erik himself is the mutant poster-boy of an NYPD trying to improve their image.

But what they don't yet know is that the serial killer is an old soul out of Erik's past, and his next move is to pull Charles into his web.

The Theory of Partnership Dynamics – Pangea

Summary: “Detective Lehnsherr, how wonderful to see you out on the job!” The fed in the front greets him as they draw nearer. He’s shorter than the other two by a full head, and he’s beaming at Lehnsherr as if completely undeterred by Lehnsherr’s paint-peeling scowl.

“What do the feds want?” Lehnsherr asks bluntly.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” the fed answers cheerfully. Then his gaze lands on Alex, and, impossibly, his grin gets even brighter. “Did you get a new partner?"

“No,” Lehnsherr says through his teeth while at the same time Alex says, “Yes.”

Charles’ Killer – luchia

Summary: When detective Charles Xavier finds himself hunting down a vendetta-driven serial killer, it doesn't take long for him to realize he's in over his head. It only takes a little longer for him to realize his killer is, too.

Demoted – JayPendragon

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a detective-specialist with the NYPD Mutant Tactical Unit, ready to help out where his skills are needed. Or he would be, if he and his partner hadn’t been demoted. For the next four months, he is patrolling the Lenox Hill precinct with Azazel – if he doesn’t die of boredom first.

One night they are called in to investigate a potential case of domestic violence, yet the tenant assures them he is both alone and unharmed. However, there is something about this Charles Xavier that compels Erik to follow up.

Watching the Detectives – Clocks

Summary: Detectives Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are good friends and colleagues. However, when they go undercover at a Christmas party to nab a prime suspect, Erik keeps reminding himself to stay professional and ignore feelings of unexpected jealousy.

Oh, Sinnerman (Where you gonna run to?) – TintagelCastle (orphan–account)

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is one of the best homicide detectives in New York. From small time stabbings to high end mob hits, Erik (and his equally scary partner Logan) makes sure all the bad guys get caught, searching for the final clue to nail his mother's killer. As a string of murders draws the net ever tighter on Erik's life's work, he needs to catch the nightmare of his past whilst continuing to be the darling of the Force...

And so what if he's completely in love with the British guy on Forensics? Who's he ever going to tell?

Wrap up my bones – waifornight

Summary: Damaged detective Erik Lehnsherr is grimly searching for a serial killer whose victims all have extraordinary gifts. But without any clues or leads he and his partner Logan are in the dark. Until Charles Xavier, abducted by the killer, escapes. Together Erik and Charles must confront something far darker than either of them had ever imagined.

Alternate Universe loosely based off the crime movie Kiss the Girls.

I’ll see your heart (and I’ll race you mine) – sirona

Summary: For Kriminalhauptkommissar Erik Lehnsherr, this case will change everything.

Paralyzer – Yahtzee

Summary: In 1965, Erik Lehnsherr has infiltrated the NYPD for his own purposes -- but his powers make him a brilliant detective. Yet that's not why FBI agent Charles Xavier has sought him out. It's because the mysterious killer they're both trying to find is murdering people like them: other mutants.

Their search for a madman binds them together. Their inner demons may tear them apart. But the greatest danger comes when the killer they're looking for looks back.

Wrap up my bones – waifornight

Summary: Damaged detective Erik Lehnsherr is grimly searching for a serial killer whose victims all have extraordinary gifts. But without any clues or leads he and his partner Logan are in the dark. Until Charles Xavier, abducted by the killer, escapes. Together Erik and Charles must confront something far darker than either of them had ever imagined.

Alternate Universe loosely based off the crime movie Kiss the Girls.

The Long Bright Dark – lachatblanche

Summary: Ten years ago Detectives Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr closed the case on a grotesque series of murders that continue to haunt them even in the present day. When they are pulled in for questioning a decade later, they finally have confirmation of something that they have both suspected for a very long time - that there is unfinished business for them to take care of and that the case they thought they had closed so very long ago is in reality still all too open.

A True Detective AU.

Finding North – ClarkeStetler, Goosenik

Summary: Charles and Erik are (loosely) friends with benefits. They don't share personal details, last names, or anything concrete about their lives. This is ruined rather spectacularly when Charles gets recruited by the Mutant Apprehension Division of the FBI. Surprised is a bit of an understatement for their reaction to finding themselves partnered up and sent out on cases with the team.

Closer (to God) – dsrobertson

Summary: Se7en/The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo AU-ish.

Political journalist and editor, Erik Lehnsherr, has just lost £150,000 in a libel case against businessman, Kurt Marko. Down on his luck and in need of money, Erik is approached by the Metropolitan Police’s Detective Inspector Charles Xavier. Well-known for his investigative journalism, Erik is asked to help in the search for a serial killer in return for £200,000 if the killer is caught.

Wrapped up in murder, religion, and sex, Erik gets more than he bargained for.

Homo Sacer – unveiled

Summary: In a not too distant future, Detective Erik Lehnsherr meets Charles Xavier: street magician, former academician, and telepath.

One Good Day – troll_under_the_bridge

Summary: One case which is going to turn Charles' world upside down, while he struggles to pacify his boss, investigate murders and come to terms with the mess his life has become.

Playing With Fire – professor

Summary: Charles is a detective determined to catch a serial killer.

If the serial killer doesn't catch him first.

Hold on or let go – aesc, pearl_o

Summary: Teenage telepath Charles Xavier takes a job as a consultant, working with prickly police detective Erik Lehnsherr. Charles is used to being on his own and taking care of himself; he has no reason to think that his relationship with this stern, icy man is going to change any of that. (Also known as: Tough Little Baby Telepath.)

MCIS: First Case – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr considers himself a great MCIS agent, and he puts up with a lot from his boss - Moira MacTaggart - in the name of solving crimes against mutants, but he's not so sure about this new empath, Charles Xavier. Their first case together will test Erik's patience, but doubtless be the beginning of a brilliant friendship.

MCIS: Fathers, Sons, and Brothers – Pookaseraph

Summary: Alex Summers has a single case that he has obsessed about ever since coming to MCIS two years ago: Su-M-94-0708-0034, the murder of Christopher and Katherine Summers, and the presumed kidnapping and possible murder of Scott Summers. Very little evidence was found at the time, but hopefully a new team - and new leads - can shed light on the case that left Alex an orphan.

When the Crazies come to town – Chinchillaatthedisc0

Summary: Erik is a surly detective with zero people skills who has just been assigned the murder case of Kurt Marko. Prime suspect? Charles xavier. Who's no where to be found.

My old man is a bad man – faerie_ground

Summary: Sebastian Shaw dies at two am in the morning with a dagger embedded in his forehead. Detective Erik Lehnsherr is on the case, and the number one suspect is the recently widowed Dr Charles Xavier, Sebastian Shaw's husband.

Deep Cover – Subtilior

Summary: Omegas in heat? The perfect whores. Sebastian Shaw? The bastard who kidnaps them for his Hellfire Club. Erik Lehnsherr? A hard-boiled detective who's been on the Hellfire case for months. The catastrophe that unfolds when he goes in on retrieval and finds Charles Xavier still writhing in a Hellfire bed? .... Deep Cover.

A Murder of Ravens – AbandonedWorld

Summary:Charles Xavier is wrongfully accused. Erik Lehnsherr is a top-notch homicide Lieutenant who stumbles upon the case of a lifetime: a serial killer targeting mutants–and only mutants. Charles bides his incarceration waiting on a miracle, reciting Poe's timeless gem in effort to retain his sanity...

Note: Unfinished

[tennessoui]

FeralObi anon here. How do you come up with these so fast?? Are you an infinite number of ideas and worlds in human-shaped form? I love both of those ideas. The first one kills me tho, Obi gets his first kind touch in years from lil Anakin. Also you can have lil Anakin coming home one day with a skulking, snarling nonverbal murder puppy and saying brightly, "He followed me home, can I keep him?" Schmi thinks this is definitely worse than the time he brought a krayt dragon home.

ah! hello! yes this is the first idea of a feral obi-wan who meets anakin when he's still on tatooine. i will also still do the second idea because like. i liked them equally as much rip me

but i told myself these were going to both be very short snippets and instead this one is uh 2k so i'll post the second one tomorrow instead of tonight!

(ficlet where obi-wan is captured by pirates/unspecified forces at a young age and then tortured for a decade before he escapes to tatooine when anakin is like 6. obi-wan, after a decade of torture is....not alright in this fic though he's only here at the end) (2k)

Shmi had known that when she sent her little Anakin away to follow after the stern-faced, warm-eyed Jedi Master, that this would not be the last time she ever saw her boy. She couldn’t explain how she knew, just as she had not been able to explain how she became pregnant, but she knew beyond a doubt that one day, she would see her little boy back in her arms.

She just hadn’t known it would be so soon.

“He died, Master Jinn died,” Anakin mumbles into the front of her dress, unwilling to move his head far back enough from her hug that he could talk clearly. “On Naboo. And the stupid Jedi council refused to train me even after I was so amazing in the air. Mom, I destroyed a blockade! Entirely! And they wouldn’t--they didn’t--” his little face scrunches up and then he’s bawling into his hands.

A slave, a born slave, knows intrinsically the injustice of the galaxy. It is not often they know hope.

“Oh my boy,” she whispers, smoothing a hand over the top of his head. She has questions. She has so many questions about everything he’s just said and what those strangers have put her son through, but the most important thing is a question she cannot wait until he has cried himself out to ask. “Is your chip gone, Ani? Did they remove your transmitter?”

Because she had sent him away from her so that he could be free. And that had been her own twisted version of hope, that her son could know a life she never would again. If the Jedi masters had proven to be just like every other master in the world, she would find herself sobbing into her own hands.

“Yeah,” Anakin sniffles and wipes at his ruddy cheeks, pulling back a few steps. “They removed it and everything. And--”

He pauses and drops his satchel to the ground in front of her. “They gave me credits. To buy you. For my trouble.”

He spits out the last three words like they’re the most disgusting thing in the entire world. As if Shmi’s freedom isn’t laying at their feet, mere centimeters away.

“Republic credits are no good here,” she hears herself say faintly.

“Padme, the handmaiden you met, she talked to the queen about me I guess,” Anakin mumbles, kicking his feet. “And when the queen learned that the Jedi didn’t want me even after all that, Padme says the queen says I’ll always have a place on Naboo. Me and my family. And then she took the Jedi credits and gave me these instead. It should be enough, Mom.”

Shmi sits down on the floor. With shaking hands, she opens the bag and looks inside. Yes. Yes.

There’s more than enough.

There’s enough to buy her freedom and take her boy away from Mos Espa. There’s enough to take her boy away from Tatooine completely.

“I…” she says. “Ani, I…”

“Padme said she’d send a ship for us,” Ani reports as if their lives are not changing right in front of their eyes. “In two days ‘cause I told her it might take a little bit of time to get Ben to come with us. But we can’t leave without him.”

This is said fiercely and with his arms crossed tightly over his little chest.

Shmi stares at him.

“I’ve already left him once!” Anakin says, stomping his foot. “But that was okay, because I knew you would bring him food and water and stuff. But if we’re both gone, no one’s going to be there for him.”

Shmi bites at her lip. There’s a lot of things happening very quickly right now, and she doesn’t know how to process half of them.

Her son has come back, after only being gone for a week and a half.

He has apparently either endeared himself so much to the queen of Naboo that she was willing to give him the money necessary to buy his mother from slavery and also promise him sanctuary on her planet. He says he’s done this by single-handedly ending a blockade, which is something she just cannot even think about right now.

He has told this queen--queen--that he will gladly live on Naboo with his family. Yes. Alright.

His family seems to include his imaginary friend, Ben.

Anakin has been talking about Ben for years now, ever since he was six and a half years old and sent by Watto to retrieve any scraps he could from what looked to be a crashed pod in the Wastelands. She’d let him ramble on about the ghost of a friend, because she’d known it to be something all children go through and experience. She hadn’t thought Anakin a lonely child, not with the friends he made in Mos Espa, but she’d always known that Anakin had a wandering spirit, ill-suited for Tatooine. If he liked to imagine an older man from a strange world hiding in the caves of the Wastes, then she wasn’t going to say anything.

“You have been leaving him food, haven’t you, Mom?” Anakin asks, almost accusatory. “I told him to expect you and everything.”

No. Shmi has not been traveling to the edge of the Wastelands every day during her precious few hours of free time in order to leave food to be picked apart by womp rats and desert critters and not her boy’s imaginary friend.

“Ani,” she says cautiously, quietly, “we cannot...we won’t be able to bring Ben with us when we go.”

Anakin, predictably, does not react well. “Why not!” he yells, backing away from her even further and looking as if she is the enemy. “Padme’s fine with it!”

“Aren’t you a little old for imaginary friends?” Shmi asks desperately, feeling cold suddenly even though the heat of the mid-morning sun has not abated at all.

If anything, her son looks more offended. “He’s not imaginary! Saying...saying that he’s not coming with us...is...is a bunch of poodoo!”

“Anakin!” Shmi gasps.

“Come on,” her boy says forcefully, grabbing at her hand and tugging her towards the door. She gets on her feet reluctantly and has half a mind to pull back just because he needs to learn that this sort of behavior is not okay, war hero or not. “We’re going to buy you from Watto. And then we’re going to go visit Ben!”

---

Buying her freedom takes less time than Shmi Skywalker ever thought it would. It feels distant as well, as if it’s happening to someone else.

It doesn’t help that her Ani is impatient and surly by turn, spilling the coin out onto Watto’s counter and barely waiting for him to finish counting it before he’s looking at the price of renting a four-person speeder parked outside.

“You won’t survive out there on your own,” Watto sneers, even as he’s passing her the kill-switch of her own slave chip. “Days. It’ll be days until the Hutts find out there’s a newly freed slave with no connections out there in the open. Ripe for the pickin’.”

Watto doesn’t have to tell her any of this. She knows. Gods, does she know.

But Anakin seems so sure about possessing the favor of the Queen of Naboo, or at least her handmaiden, which might be close enough to the same thing. She thanks Watto--she thanks him and then doesn’t even know why--and meets Anakin outside.

He’s bouncing around the speeder, little hands clutching his satchel to his chest. “Good!” he says when he sees her, hopping onto the machine and putting the parcel between his feet. “I got Ben something called a fig on Naboo, but I don’t know how long it’ll take for it to go bad. Apparently they’re sweet.”

Shmi goes along with it. Shmi doesn’t know why she goes along with it, but she does. She can see this is important to her boy, and though she’d rather spend the afternoon and early evening saying goodbye to her friends, she will allow Ani to say goodbye to his imaginary friend. Maybe she’ll even talk to it. “Hi, hello, I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed the imaginary blue milk and delicacies I’ve left out for you this past week and half. Oh no, it was no bother. My son insisted.”

The ride is quick--Anakin has always been a driver to push the limits of any engine he comes across--and before she knows it, he’s dismounting on a piece of desert and rock that look exactly the same as the last four pieces of rocky terrain they’ve past.

“Ben!” Ani calls, satchel clutched firmly in his hands as he makes his way deeper into the crevices of the landscape. “Ben, it’s Ani! I’m really sorry that I left! Ben? Ben! I’m back now! Ani’s back!”

It’s actually...quite pathetic, to watch her boy speak so pleadingly to the cold stone faces of the rocks around them, but if this is what he needs to do to say goodbye to his life on Tatooine, Shmi won’t say a word.

“Ben--” Anakin draws in a breath to call again, but then there’s movement out of the corner of Shmi’s eyes, and something jumps from the rock down to land on her boy.

She screams and darts forward, but the thing on top of her son snarls at her in guttural warning.

“No, Ben,” Ani coos, stroking at the face that yes, is human, now that it’s not in unnaturally fast motion. “That’s my mom, Ben.”

Ben--Ben??--growls anyway, pinning the boy--her boy--beneath him with his legs and arms.

“She’s fine,” Ani murmurs gently, one hand reaching up to stoke over the beginnings of a beard on Obi-Wan’s face “Oh Ben, I’m sorry.”

The man on top of Shmi’s child finally looks away from her and at her boy, which is both better and worse.

“Ani,” Ben drawls out, as if the word--or perhaps forming the word--hurts him.

Anakin is happy. Shmi can tell he’s happy without even being able to see much of him. It’s like the very air vibrates with his joy. “Yes!” her son says. “Ani. Ben.” He taps the man’s chest. “Ben. Ani.”

The man buries his head into Anakin’s hair, hands rubbing up and down his sides and his arms and his face.

Shmi needs to say something, wants to say something about this strange man touching boy like he owns him, but the memory of his growl and the flash of his golden eyes stops her from stepping forward.

“Anakin, get away from him,” she hisses instead of stepping forward and tearing the stranger off of her son. She has the distinct feeling Anakin wouldn’t let Ben go anywhere, not with the way his little hands are holding so tight to the man’s shoulders. The man’s shoulders that are covered with one of her old tunics that Anakin had told her became unsalvageable after its last wash.

“No,” Anakin says, tightening his hold on his...friend. “He says you didn’t give him food the entire time I was gone! He’s hungry.”

Shmi thinks there’s a very good possibility that this Ben is going to eat her, but she knows not to say anything of the sort. Not when it’s two against one.

“He hasn’t said anything!” She cries instead.

Anakin huffs at this and pats at the feral’s head. “Maybe not to you, but he talks to me.”

Shmi stares at him and wonders if there’s something she’s supposed to be doing or saying here. The man won’t allow her to tear him off her child, she knows that automatically. But she can’t--she doesn’t know--

“Anakin,” she tries, desperately.

But Anakin doesn’t even look at her, too busy petting over the man, who has at least allowed him to sit up. “Hey, I’m sorry, I thought she would,” he tells him in an undertone. “I really thought she would, but I’m back now. I’m not going anywhere without you again--”

He extends his hand and Ben presses his cheek against it with enough force that it pushes him back slightly.

“You’re coming to Naboo with us, Ben,” Anakin promises, clutching at the ends of the man’s long hair. “Or I’m not going at all.”

To Shmi, it sounds like a threat.

The way her son’s eyes flash an unfamiliar golden color makes her feel cold as a Tatooine night. She shivers, but no one notices.