#And down in volume when speaking? And after she explained that i was like... Ah yes never considered that but when i hear you say it

[mrfoox]

Actually I love accents. Like no matter how good you become at languages you still have some sounds/letters you pronounce in a specific way, that's actually very cute

#miranda talking shit #Sure you can practice it if you go to specific courses or have training but i still think that's idk #In a way fighting your brain? Or rather it takes more brain power to keep it up? Ifk if that makes sense #But i know i can pronounce things 'better' when im not tired for example. The more tired i am the more likely i am to accidentally use my #Native language or pronounce things from that ? #It's possible people whp was raised in an multi-languge home doesmt have this but yea #Idk accents is cute and the fact basically everyone have one in some way is cool #Even English speakers and then what region theyre from they can all pronounce words differently #Like idk i cant write this and describe well but yoi get it yea #Like in my language we have very... 'volume' based words/letters. Kinda like a rollercoaster #It was how it was described to me by my Japanese teacher. She said that its common to struggle with Japanese bc of that #Its usually a pretty 'smooth' pronouncing and my language is the opposite in that we like to put more emphasis on some letters and go up #And down in volume when speaking? And after she explained that i was like... Ah yes never considered that but when i hear you say it #True... And thats cool. I mean makes it much harder to speak some languages and all but makes it somehow more unique? #Idk man i just like how everyone have different kinds of accents like yeah...

[scorpiongrassfield]

There’s a Lot to Think About 

Start | Prev

Guilt starts eating away at your stomach like you’ve swallowed molten lead. You don’t know how Theo can be so calm about any of this. He’s more or less been tortured and it’s all your fault. 

“No it isn’t,” Theo says. 

You barely hear him, too caught up in your own thoughts. 

There’s so much new information you need to process and yet you can practically feel the clock ticking down. 

Theo no longer seems bothered by it. 

“If I let myself be bothered by anything right now I’ll crash so hard I’m not sure I’ll get up again.” 

Speaking of Theo, is he the ‘he’ you were talking about in the flashback? You don’t know that many hes right now. 

“No, that’s not me. Maybe someone you knew before you died.” 

Well, that’s not helpful and not something you can afford to puzzle over, unless there’s a way to magically get your memories back. 

“Not that I know  of.” 

Great. Well that’s another mystery, as if you didn’t have enough of those. 

There are more important mysteries to solve right now. Like why Ametrine gave you the lighter back if it’s what she needs to kill you in the first place. 

“She what.” Theo’s voice raises in pitch and volume on the last word, which isn’t something you’ve heard from him before. 

“I thought you already knew about that?” Wasn’t he the one that pulled  you away from her right after that happened.  

“Maybe I did. My mind is not really in one piece at the moment, though,” he reminds you. 

You suppose that’s fair. 

The lighter has maintained a steady level of warm since your last interaction with Ametrine. Not quite threatening, just reminding you of its presence. 

You take it out and show it to Theo. 

“She gave it to you?” he asks. You’re both careful to make sure your fingers don’t brush as he takes the lighter from you. 

“Sort of. I think she was using it as bait when she was trying to trap me in the cabin. When she was inside a painting,” you explain. 

Theo examines the lighter. “Well. This certainly seems real enough. Which means she’s gotten one over on me…” 

Theo hands the lighter back to you. It went cold while he had it. 

“What do you mean?” 

“She can’t start a fire without that lighter. At least not in here. And I knew that you had stolen it from her, meaning that if I thought there was a fire, chances are it wasn’t real. For certain values of real. But then it seemed like she had genuinely gotten it back from you, which made the fires real again, and able to hinder me. But if you have it, that means she tricked me,” he explains. 

“Ah. But that doesn’t make sense either. Why drown me instead of just burning me again with her fake lighter?” he says, and it doesn’t seem like he’s necessarily talking to you. 

Maybe having no filter is also a ghost thing. 

“When did she attack you?” you ask. 

“Uh… It’s hard to say. Time doesn’t move quite right here,” Theo says, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Was it before or after she screamed?” you ask. 

Theo seems to think about it. “I suppose it was after.” 

“Maybe me touching her soul overwrote her copy of the lighter? Since I had mine with me when I did that,” you offer as an explanation. 

“Is that what happened,” Theo says, not quite asking. 

“At least I think that’s where I was when she screamed. It was kind of a dark and sad place. Not a lot of color.” 

Theo nods. “She is not a very happy person,” he says. And then he smile, but it looks all wrong on his face. There’s no joy behind it. “You seem to have gained the upper hand without me noticing.” 

“What do you mean?” You play with the lighter as you talk, flipping it around in your hand. The warmth of it is almost comforting. 

“Well. Her sunglasses are of no use if you broke into her soul directly. Even if you did nothing else, that connection is now open,” he says.

“Which means…?” You aren’t sure you’re following him. 

“Well, it isn’t all good news. She is most likely able to follow that connection to you wherever you are. If you were to regroup with Patience, Ametrine would be able to find the two of you even with my labyrinth in place,” Theo says, gesturing all around you to indicate the labyrinth. 

Oh. That would probably not be an ideal turn of events. Good thing you decided to check on Theo, instead. 

“What’s the good news, then?” you ask. 

“Well, you could end this whole thing much more quickly than if we were to wait for Patience to wake up,” he says, explaining nothing. 

“Okay. How though?” you prod when he doesn’t elaborate. 

He shrugs. He’s looking away from you, refusing to meet your gaze. “It would… It would be the simplest solution at this point. It would end things so quickly. And I still don’t know how much time we have. Pat is going to need major medical intervention no matter what at this point. Ametrine too. But the sooner we wake them up the better,” Theo says, finally starting to sound like himself again. At least in cadence. 

“Okay, but what is it you want me to do,” you demand. Surely if Pat is getting closer to death with every minute, you don’t have time for all these silly meandering conversations. 

“Well… if you were to… alter Ametrine’s soul. In the way that you now know you’re capable of. And made her think she didn’t want to hurt you anymore, or that you weren’t a threat. All of this would be over very quickly…” he hazards. Still refusing to look in your direction. 

That can’t be right. You walk back into his line of sight. He looks away from you again. 

“You think that’s the right thing to do?” you ask. 

“I think it’s the simplest, like I said.” 

Frowning, you ask: “Who are you?” 

He flinches. “I am myself.” 

You shake your head. “No, something’s off. The Theo I met is different. You’re talking more like him, but you’re saying something he would never say.” 

“Never?” he half-echoes. 

“No. If that was a weapon he was okay with wielding, he would have saved himself a lot of trouble, a lot of pain by asking me to do it before I lost my memory. So who are you?” you take a step closer. 

He flinches. 

“Lost ghost Theo, the shadow, me, it’s all the same person. I’m him, and he’s me, and I’m the one still standing here after everything that’s happened. People change, so please…” he begs. 

You don’t let up. “No. If you're yourself, then you’ve been running yourself absolutely ragged trying to do the right thing, and now you’re giving up and asking me to do something you think is wrong. Why?” 

“Because I’m tired,” he snaps. He winces at the volume of his own voice and slumps. “Sorry,” he says, this time a whisper. “I’m tired, Sylv. And I’m hurt. It all hurts so bad. And I’m scared,” he says, his voice wavering. 

You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. 

“No. You’re deflecting. You’re mad…” his voice breaks off because he’s started crying. Big tears rolling down his face, body wracked with sobs crying. He takes a deep breath and tries to wipe away some of his tears with his sleeve. 

It’s a little hard to understand the words that come between sobs, but you manage to get all of his speech. “You’re mad because I’m asking you to do something you just decided you didn’t want to do. You don’t want to be the kind of person that manipulates others’ minds. But you already are. You did it, and you did it because you were scared, and hurt, and tired.” 

“You want me to go back to being a monster for you,” you surmise. “I don’t even know if I still know how to do it.” 

He shakes his head, sniffling. “I just want you to try. Even if it doesn’t work, You need to try. For Patience’s sake. I’m not lying when I say we’re running out of time. I’m out of ideas, out of options, out of the will to fight anymore,” he scrubs at his eyes. 

You don’t know what to say. 

Theo’s still breathing hard, but he seems to be winding down a bit. 

“I tried really hard not to hurt her… She’s just trying to help Patience in her own way. But… she isn’t showing us the same courtesy. She set my soul on fire and drowned me. She would kill you, erase your entire existence in a heartbeat, if she could. And you won’t even kill her if you do it. This would be merciful,” he finishes. 

He still hasn’t looked at you even once as he turns to walk away. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, starting to follow. 

“I’m going to try to get my head together. You do what you think is right, but please consider what I’ve said.” 

He finally turns around to look at you. There’s not even a speck of light in his eyes as his says: “Goodbye, Sylv. Good luck.” 

And then he’s gone. 

You’re alone in the woods again. 

There’s so many emotions running through you that you can’t pick them out individually. Sad? Scared? Angry? Tired? Confused? Yes. All of them and then some. 

Theo seems to think that the longer things go on, the worse off everyone is. So you should decide what to do. 

You don’t want to, but you need to. 

What will you do?

Next

#choose your own adventure #interactive fiction #writeblr #original writing

[exaltatuss]

Something something Dracontine biology

“I can’t believe that I agreed to this shit...” Roone grumbled, what with now having to do Chione’s dare, as the other had won a bet against her this time around.

Thus, clearing her throat, she would do her best on making whatever this is as informative as she could.

That, and its a Sunday, anyway, so might as well.

“Alright, lend me your ears, everyone. I’m going to explain this just once, yeah? I’m here to teach y’all about Dracontine biology. At least ones that aren’t really mentioned on paper.”

Oh boy, here we go.

A brief pause, before she’d continue on. “As you might know by now, Dracontine genetics are highly complex. and potent, that interspecies breeding is of no issue to us. After breeding with others, the resulting offspring from the deed would be nearly full-blooded, so in a sense, there’s no half-blooded Dracontines, but nearly full-blooded ones, in regards to interspecies breeding.” She explained. “Though of course, they are still considered as hybrids.”

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure that’s not what you folk are after, as that’s already something mentioned on paper.”

Clearing her throat again, Roone would continue. “A Dracontine penis is already naturally well-endowed, so there really won’t be any issue on satisfying those who have a thing for sizes. The purer the Dracontine genes, the more hung they are. I, for example, am the purest in terms of genetic makeup of my generation. Add the fact that I’m the daughter of the purest Dracontine of a previous generation, and you can already understand that I’m rather impressively hung, myself.”

Cue her using her own package as visual example, considering she had already mentioned it. “As you can see, we have several segments across our lengths, adding a bit of texture when we’re railing your insides. While we don’t have a knot, these segments would make do, as when we’re about to cum, said segments would flare outward like frills of sorts, to secure and lock us in place inside of you while we unload ourselves deep, which will indeed take a while, so expect that you’d be filled to the brim and beyond, as well as get spread out a bit due to the segments flaring outward like frills, as stated.”

“Lastly, our cum taste good, actually. The purer the genes, the more exquisite the flavor. Additionally, Dracontine cum is warm. Pleasantly warm. Like warm milk, so to speak. Even has the texture of the aforementioned drink if you were to gulp volumes of it down your throat, so it slides in nicely. The scent our cum gives off is also pleasing to the nose.”

“Ah, and we cum in large volumes, so understandably, things can and will get messy.”

“Oh right. And normal contraceptive pills won’t really fare well against Dracontine sperm. I can guarantee that we are virile and fertile enough to be able to bypass that protection. So if you don’t want any unplanned brats being made, your contraceptives must be something that really speaks ‘protection’. Otherwise, getting pregnant from Dracontine jizz is almost always guaranteed.”

“Well, I guess that’s everything. I think. Either way, I hope y’all find whatever this is as informative, really.”

Remind her to knock Chione unconscious along the way again too, later after this.

#;ic #;Dracontine Royalty | Roone #;nsfw #something informative for once!

[monterraverde]

Leon doesn't normally like world-hopping as he does to get around, but he's doing this for the sake of the pokeball in his hands. Staring at it, his Charizard looking just as worried, he waits until there's a free chance to approach Rika after seeking her out here in Paldea. A phone call had been placed, sure, but he didn't give exact details. Only when he hears the doors open to the Pokemon League building does he stand up straight and turn himself to face her. (c)

(c) "Rika!" He greets with his usual smile. "Good to see you. I hope you're free because the issue... well..." He looks down at the pokeball at hand. He knew she had just recently hatched the Mudkip Ashe had given her and piling more on was... not wise, but who else to turn too? "... Would you mind us having tea while I explained?" He held up the pokeball at hand, letting it speak volumes -- a pokemon in need, but at what cost? (d)

She knew that a personal visit from Leon meant something big had happened, and she hurried back to the Pokemon league quick as she could, a bag full of snacks in hand from the local convenience store, though his posture bespoke something far more… critical. And the pokeball in his hand sealed it… Ah, here we go again, but he came to her personally, so how could she turn him down?

“Ah- Sure, my desk isn’t the most ideal place but I can clear some space…”

Tea, huh? She didn’t really have a way to make tea at her desk but maybe that was just the fancy galarian version of the word? Usually that was code for a meal… wasnt it? She might be completely misunderstanding, but regardless, she sets about clearing papers and equipment to the very edges on the desk or in drawers- Anything that was small enough to move with ease- Which meant the monitor and keyboard unfortunately had to stay.

She finally takes a seat after a moment, fishing some bottles out of the bag she had… It was ICED tea at least? Well now she just felt silly. “Sorry, I don’t have a kettle or anything, rushed over here as quick as I could when I got your message too… Did get you a sandwich, though! Anyway- Whatsit that you need to talk about?” She hums, sliding the paper wrapped six-inch sandwich across the desk to him.

@kokorowoutsu

#WHAT DOES TEA MEAN IN THIS CONTEXT YOU SILLY BRIT- #rikas inbox: lets chat! #kokorowoutsu

[arvandus]

So hopefully I got in on time! Btw, I’ve been absolutely loving your HC’s, the stutter one was friggin adorable! I love soft Dabi, there’s not much of him out there in stories 😢

Anyway! I was wondering if you could do HC’s with Dabi for someone who may be deaf or just hard of hearing? Ifff your comfortable, I would love to see what he would do for a male s/o (or platonic friend/league member, etc, whichever you choose!) If you don’t want to do this it’s completely fine and you can switch it to ambiguous/female (I don’t know if you have ever done men before haha!)

Hello! I’m so flattered for this ask because you’re trusting me to portray something that’s personal to you and outside of my own experience. I can absolutely do this with a Male Reader (my first one!).

I’m not sure what type or level of hearing loss you had in mind, so I did my best with this and went with an acquired hearing loss that’s moderate-to-severe. Also, I wrote Reader as someone who wears hearing aids. I hope that’s all right, since that’s typically the case for those with more severe hearing loss (otherwise communication is really difficult to do, since I don’t suspect Dabi would know sign language). Also, I got a couple of cute ideas that I really wanted to fit into this that follow more of a friends-to-lovers sort of vibe rather than established relationship. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!


Headcanons for Dabi x M!Reader who’s Deaf/Hard of Hearing (HOH)

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1240

💙 When you first join the LOV, Dabi will be skeptical at first, as he is with all things. How could someone with a hearing loss really be of any value to the league? He can’t help but wonder what skills you’re bringing to the table to that convinced Shigaraki to allow you to join.

💙 Dabi doesn’t interact with you right away... he prefers to observe. Part of it is that he doesn’t care for attachments, even amongst his comrades. Another is that he doesn’t expect you to last very long in the League. If he does interact, it’ll be through snarky quips and insults. After all, he loves getting under other people’s skin... it makes him feel like has an advantage.

💙 So, it goes without saying that Dabi will be a hard nut to crack at first. He’ll definitely have some crappy preconceived notions about people with hearing loss that he’ll get to face as he’s forced to get to know you.

💙 For example, he learns super fast that your hearing has little to do with your intelligence. You’re fucking smart and more than capable of handling yourself, much to his surprise. You quickly become an important member of the team, and even Dabi can’t really argue your value. It only makes his interest in you grow, his skepticism giving way to curiosity.

💙 Another thing he learns about you... you value your independence and hate when others coddle or dote on you due to your hearing loss. The first time Toga had tried to treat you as something fragile (granted she was trying to be nice), you’d quickly put her in her place. Dabi couldn’t help but grin at that exchange...

💙 The great thing about Dabi sitting back and observing everyone else most of the time is that he gets to learn by proxy how to interact with you.

💙 Don’t mumble or talk too fast. Don’t look away when talking to you. Talk more clearly, and slower, but for God’s sake, don’t treat you like you’re dumb. You’re hard of hearing, not stupid.

💙 Even with all of that taken into consideration though, he’ll notice that while you seem to do fine in one-on-one exchanges in quiet environment, you’ll withdraw more in group gatherings. Is the chattering of multiple voices too much? Is the noise overwhelming? Even he can’t always tolerate the prattling of the social butterflies of the group, so he wouldn’t blame you if it got under your skin too.

💙 His interest will finally be piqued when he watches you retreat during a rather boisterously loud game night amongst the League. He’ll follow quietly behind you, watching as you pass your own room in favor of the stairwell leading up to the rooftop.

💙 You don’t notice he’s followed you until he sits next to you. Your eyes betray your surprised at his presence.

💙 “What are you doing here?” you demand.

💙 He’ll give you a grin and a cock of his head. “You didn’t seem like you were havin’ much fun back there. Got anything to do with these?” he’ll tap your hearing aid playfully.

💙 You huff at him. “If you want me to hear you better, you’ll need to sit on my other side. My hearing aid battery died.”

💙 “You don’t have a backup?” he asks as he adjusts his position.

💙 You shake your head.

💙 “Doesn’t sound too bad.” He’ll tease. “I wish I could turn off my ears, especially when Toga laughs.”

💙 You give him a glare at his insensitive comment. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

💙 He raises an eyebrow at you and think for a moment, before looking back out over the cityscape. “Why don’tcha tell me about it then.”

💙 You give him a skeptical look but he waits silently for you to continue. His smirk is gone as his sharp eyes glance back at you. He's serious.

💙 You’ll finally open up to him, explaining how hard it can be sometimes. How noisy environments can make your hearing aids nearly useless when the noise is too much, when everyone is talking at once. How frustrating it is to not be able to follow a conversation let alone participate, and how it can sometimes make people assume things about you. At best, they’ll assume you can hear fine with your hearing aids and therefore assume you’re being aloof or don’t want to interact. At worst, they’ll think your slow or stupid, and look at you with pity.

💙 Dabi will listen, but he won’t offer much up except sarcastic remarks about the others in an attempt to make you feel better. After all, sympathy isn’t his strong suit. But you’ll find yourself feeling better by the end, just grateful to be able to vent to someone.

💙 When you smile at him and tell him thanks for listening, it’ll take him by surprise. Not because of your reaction – he expected that, at least. What’ll surprise him is his reaction to it – a strange sense of satisfaction will wash over him, filling him with an unfamiliar warmth. He realizes - a moment too late, before he can bring down his barriers - that he likes seeing you smile, especially when it’s at him.

💙 You’ll feel slightly closer after that, finding more opportunities to hang out on the quiet rooftop and chat.

💙 He’ll surprise you on your next visit with a brand-new pack of hearing aid batteries. You’ll give him a suspicious look, asking where he got them and how he knew what kind to get you, but he’ll give you a wicked grin and brush off your question with an evasive comment.

💙 It won’t take long for you to start developing a crush on him, and against your better judgment, you find yourself staring at him a lot more and finding ways to be around him more. Hanging out at the bar, going on missions together, sitting next to him during the LOV discussions… you try to brush it off as ‘becoming friends,’ but deep down you know better.

💙 It doesn’t take long for Dabi to take notice and begin to suspect that maybe… just maybe… all of your secret glances and increased attention aren’t strictly platonic.

💙 What a wonderful turn of events. He wasn’t sure if you were interested in men, but now he’s 99% sure you are... or at the very least, interested in him.

💙 It leaves his skin feeling hotter than usual, his heart pounding in his chest with excitement. He wonders if you know... or even suspect... that he watches you too in mutual attraction.

💙 He’ll start testing the waters, just to make sure, of course. Hit you with a few flirty nicknames to see how you react. As soon as he sees you fluster and flounder in obvious embarrassment, he’ll know he’s got you, and it makes your exchanges only that much more entertaining.

💙 The more he learns about you, the more interested he becomes. He’ll start to do research on ways to support you with your hearing loss. It’ll be purely out of curiosity, of course... it’s not like he’s gonna go out of his way or anything. But he ends up finding himself down the rabbit hole of hearing aid supports, and learns about Bluetooth capabilities, FM systems, infrared systems... ways to send targeted noise – like speech for instance – straight to your hearing aids, bypassing any pesky background noise.

💙 It won’t take long for him to get an idea – two birds with one stone, so to speak...

💙 You’ll be on the rooftop together, when he says, “I gotta surprise for ya.”

💙 He pulls out a box that’s labelled ‘Dynamic FM System.’

💙 If you try to reach for it though, he’ll hold it out of your reach. “ah ah ah... we gotta find the right place to try it out.”

💙 He’ll lead you downstairs and you’ll think he’s heading to the common space where the others are, but instead he takes you outside of the hideout, leading you down the street.

💙 “Where are we going?”

💙 “You’ll see.”

💙 The two of you will end up outside of a bar. Not just any bar, though… the line of patrons is already a huge hint of what you’ll find inside.

💙 “Wait isn’t this….?” You’ll start.

💙 Dabi will only smirk at you though, before he grabs your hand and leads you in.

💙 Inside will be loud. So loud you have to turn down the volume on your hearing aids, and too loud for you to hear anything of value. But as you look around, your suspicions are confirmed - instead of the usual opposite sexes pairing up like you find at most bars, this one is different. Men are pairing up with men, women are pairing up with women. Your heart is beating like a drum in your chest, your pulse racing with excitement. Of all the places for Dabi to bring you…

💙 You keep close to Dabi, holding onto his arm. He loves that, loves that you’re looking to him for protection. And protect you he does, his eyes threatening violence to anyone who stares too long at you.

💙 He’ll sit you down at the bar with him in the center of the noise while drunken gay couples flirt over their drinks and a group of girls laugh in the corner. He’ll say something to the bartender, and a minute later, two fresh drinks are place before the two of you.

💙 He won’t try to talk to you yet as he opens the box and begins taking out all of the pieces. He’ll plug in the small, cylinder-like component into your hearing aid - the receiver. He’ll be completely up in your space when he does it too, grinning at you with his ocean blue eyes. In his hand he holds the transmitter that contains a button with a microphone on it.

💙 Once everything is hooked up properly, he’ll speak into the mic, his finger on the button.

💙 “Hey there.” He says. His voice comes through crystal clear.

💙 “Hey.” You smile.

💙 Once Dabi knows you can hear him, his devilish grin will widen and he’ll lean casually against the bar counter as he stares at you, his eyes drinking you in. “Have I ever told you how hot you are?”

💙 That’s when it finally clicks… Dabi is actually interested in you. And he’s taken you out on a date.

💙 BONUS: If the bar scene ends up being too much for you, he’ll be more than happy to spend the rest of your date on your favorite rooftop spot with some take-out. 10/10 will kiss you by the end of the date.

#Arv's 750 Followers Event #dabi #dabi hcs #dabi x male reader #dabi x m!reader #dabi x reader #deaf #hard of hearing

[arizcross]

My take on Female Cale Henituse, part 2.

Emma, like every maid in the castle, was allowed to work for the Henituse family only after mister Ron had made her go thru various physical tests. As someone who grew in the capital´s slums and had to recur to theft and knife fights in her even younger years to survive she obviously passed the tests with flying colors. Anyways, Emma never truly understood why she would need all those physical capabilities or fighting dexterity to be a mere maid, granted, it was to work as a maid for a Count’s family but come on!

Then she was assigned as Miss Cale’s personal maid…

She is the most recent maid that worked directly for Miss Cale, one week and a couple of days actually, and Miss Cale was exactly as the rumors made her. She wore very tight and revealing dresses, bathed herself in stupidly expensive perfume and used very improper makeup for her noble status. More than once Emma found herself wanting to throw away those borderline slutty dresses and too sweet perfumes and hit Miss Cale so hard on the head that her brain shook! But she needed the job, also, Mr. Ron would have hunted her down and skin her like a rabid dog to a poor rabbit if she did, so she kept to herself.

AND THEN!!!! THEN MISS CALE WOKE UP ONE DAY AND…!!!

“Emma, please prepare a hot bath before Ron arrives with the food.” Says Miss Cale as she moved away the very expensive cotton sheets from her body.

Emma turns her head to look at Cale so fast it is a miracle that her neck doesn´t snaps. Did she just say please?! Thinks a shocked Emma with her already big eyes open as wide as plates. Did she just say PLEASE?!!! Rethinks the young woman.

Granted, Miss Cale said it with a slightly annoyed tone but the volume was moderate, not the usual rough bark of a growl she uses when speaking to others.

“Emma, move.” States Miss Cale with the same annoyed but still unusually moderate tone.

That´s more like it but it´s still weird! Thinks Emma before actually answering. “Yes, ma´am.”

After that things only got weirder: First Miss Cale threw away (well, she made Emma throw away) most of her clothes and shoes, specifically the very much improper tight dresses and high heeled shoes, she also stopped wearing makeup and braid her hair, that way allowing everyone to see her clean and stupidly beautiful face. Miss Cale stops getting drunk, even though she keeps going to Mr. Billos’s tea house; she also starts spending more time with her family, attending to breakfasts and dinners. She starts to wear long, flowy skirts and buys all the bread from the town, quickly helping the economy of the territory’s inhabitants.

Then she brought a stray dog, black in color and even more vicious than Mr. Ron and his son together! His name is Choi Han and Emma will very much stay away from his way. He is very smitten with the Miss thought, so Emma sticks to Cale even more; Miss Cale has turned more tolerable lately anyways.

After the rabid dog, Miss Cale adopted a pair of kittens, Hans adores them and Miss Cale treats them softly. When she sees Miss Cale look at the kittens Emma remembers her own mother. Ah… when did Miss Cale start to look like that?

For some reason working directly under Miss Cale has turned very pleasant.

When Miss Cale went to the capital to attend to royal meeting Emma almost loses her mind when she saw how Miss Cale was about to go out, she looked like she was going for a walk in the woods!

Mr. Ron is gonna rip my limps apart if he finds out I let her attend the FUCKING ROYAL MEETING like that!!! Cries Emma in her mind.

“Miss Cale please don´t!!! You cannot attend the meeting looking like that!!!” Exclaims Emma as she grabs Cale by the arm.

“Why not? It´s comfortable.” Simply answers the red head with her even voice.

“Please, let me help you get ready! Mr. Ron is gonna scold me if he finds out I let you go looking like that!” Explains the young maid as she cries.

Cale looks at Emma with one perfect eyebrow lifted, as if asking Why would Ron do that? But then the Miss saw the desperate gaze or her personal maid. “Sigh, fine. But do not make too elaborate.” Begrudgingly agree the red head.

“Leave it to me my lady!” Happily states Emma for the very first time since she started to work for the Henituse’s family.

Luckily for Emma, Countess Violan, the Sun God bless her soul, made her personal maid pack a pair of new dresses that she felt matched with Cale’s new disposition. Emma showed them to Cale and the red head choose a neutral blue one, it was made of silk, with long, lose and very slightly puffy sleeves, a long and flowy skirt, a circular turtle neck and with a detail of something that resembled a knot on the left side of the hip. After successfully putting the dress on Cale, Emma applied a soft make up, some rose-gold eye shadow with some brown eyeliner, a very soft touch of blush and some glossy lipstick.

I’m a damn genius!!! Congratulates Emma herself once Cale is ready to go.

Then the bomb incident happened and everything got chaotic but Emma would never change her life. If only her beautiful and brave Lady Cale would stop over working herself… oh, well, as long as sir Choi Han is right by her side everything should work out, right?

________________________________________________________________

Emma.

Cale´s newest personal maid. When Rok Soo transmigrated she had only worked directly under Cale for about a week and two days. Same age as Cale. 

#female cale henituse au #cale henituse #kim rok soo #female cale henituse #female kim rok soo #trash of the count's family #trash of the count´s family au #original character

[markosmate]

to the riptide

Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader

Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.

Warnings; strong language

au:// This is part 3 y’all, super excited hehe, but another filler chapter, we get into the good stuff next chapter hehe

Part 2   -   Part 4

When Michael and I finally pulled up to the boardwalk, it was just as, if not more, crowded than the night before. People overfilled the walkways and were spilling out of all the bars and shops. I figured I wouldn’t want to stay here late tonight and judging by the look on Michael’s face neither would he. We separated after a few short moments and while he headed to the small stands in the middle of the pier, I headed off to the small punk shop that had caught my eye the night before.

It didn’t take me long to find, it was one of the first shops I saw across from the stairs leading down to the beach. I pushed the fabric covering the doorway to the side and made my way into the dimly lit place. Most of the clothing was black, and ripped, but that’s not what had caught my attention in the first place. All the jewelry in the glass counter had been why I’d come in here and within minutes I was at the register paying for a small necklace with a silver bat pendant hanging off the fabric chain.

“Bats, huh? Some fascination with them?” The girl was my age, but she was looking at me with narrowed eyes and a skeptical look crossing her face. She had a Wiccan symbol hanging from the chain around her neck, and the same symbol tattooed on her inner wrist.

I laughed and shook my head. “I thought it was pretty. It doesn’t have some weird deeper meaning, right?”

Her face softened and she shook her head, a small smile pulling at her lips. “No, you just never know with the characters running around this place. You’re probably new, you’d know what I was talking about if you weren’t new.” She rambled, switching the topic to explain the meanings of some of the crystals sitting in the locked case behind her when suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I turned my head to look out the glass window at the front of the shop and my eyes immediately locked onto hazel ones.

Marko. Marko, and his friends. He had already been watching me when I turned to look at him, and his three buddies from yesterday all flanked his side staring at exactly the same thing - me. One of them, blond hair with lots of volume, grinned widely and raised his hand in an extravagant wave. I smiled back shyly, still trying to piece together why they were all watching me, but before I could even lift my hand in a wave back the girl at the register interrupted me.

“Oh, no, babe. I wouldn’t if I were you.” I turned back to look at her and saw her shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Wouldn’t what?” I frowned.

“Try anything with those dudes. They’re bad news, girl. Bad fucking news. If I were you, I’d stay the hell away from them. Especially if they’ve pretended to take any liking to you. It’s just a cover up.” She didn’t explain any further, instead quickly finishing the bagging of the necklace and thrusted it towards me with my change following quickly afterwards. I didn’t bother bidding her a goodbye, instead just thanking her for my purchase and hurrying out of the front.

When I pushed the fabric back and stepped outside, the boys were nowhere in sight. Definitely not where they had been moments prior, and I couldn’t see them walking down the boardwalk in either direction. I sighed and shook my head, I shouldn’t be focusing on them. I warned myself the night prior about getting close to them and suddenly another person was telling me the same thing? It seemed like a warning that was clear as day but no matter what, I couldn’t get him off my mind.

I took the necklace out of the bag, trashing the wrapping in the closest garbage bin and quickly hooking it around my neck. I was so focused on getting the necklace successfully latched, I didn’t even realize I’d almost smashed directly into Michael. I stopped just in time and looked up to realize he was walking slightly behind, but still next to, the girl from last night. They both turned to me, and weirdly enough her eyes seemed to light up in recognition when she saw me. I’d never met her before, but she seemed almost relieved that I had joined wherever they were walking to.

I fell in step next to them and listened absentmindedly as Michael introduced himself. “Ah, Michael’s nice, I like Michael.” She laughed and he grinned along with her as if it was some joke I had missed out on.

“Wanna go get some food?” He asked her hopefully as the three of us neared where his bike had been parked.

She glanced towards me. She seemed to be speaking to me with her eyes, asking if I minded if they left and I stayed here. I shook my head quickly with a small smile, gesturing for her to go on. She smiled gently and turned to Michael. “Okay.” I moved out of the way of his bike and towards the wooden railing, but just as Star went to climb on the motorcycle behind my brother, a couple engines roared and we were suddenly surrounded.

My eyes flicked towards the sound, and immediately recognized who the source of the noise was.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys headcanon #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys david #marko x reader #paul x reader #dwayne x reader #david x reader #alex winter #brooke mccarter #kiefer sutherland #billy wirth #the lost boys poly #the lost boys masterlist #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #star the lost boys #the lost boys star #michael emerson #lucy emerson #sam emerson #frog brothers

[thetriggeredhappy]

recently rediscovered your blog and read the fic from your dad spy au where scout starts out as the "guard" and then becomes scout from there and lemme tell you that shit put me on some s-tier brainrot. like a cranial decay type beat.

i had a concept in my head that instead of being hired as a guard, he could have been hired as a right hand man to the administrator like pauling, because i think hed be awesome in that position. like imagine having a personal merc who can get in fast and out even faster. but maybe he would stay in the base like the rest of them, sort of like a secret on call intel gatherer, who also maybe sometimes has to dig a couple graves. and also like, nobody on the team expects anything from him at first because its this 20 year old newbie kid. hes dressed in his formal clothes and he talks like somebody from relatively around boston but not quite. i can just imagine one day he comes back during a team dinner with his shirt half untucked and stained with blood, hair disheveled as he asks soldier if he can borrow his shovel, or him debriefing them for a mission when miss pauling is busy. same vibe as the fic i mentioned before but scout gets to have a job as cool as miss paulings. honestly id write it myself if i didnt have the attention span of a fly

anyways your scout content gives me life thank you

scout teamfortress but 20% more competent standing next to miss pauling teamfortress while she's doing her job and doing like silly quips and otherwise contributing nothing like it's a buddy cop film is literally my fucking ideal

(warnings for some canon-typical violence)

-

“Oh, Pauling, it’s good to see you again,” greeted the chairman, smiling in an imitation of a grandfather and clasping her hands perhaps too-kindly considering she barely knew him. “Young as ever, and still so stylish, I see. And who’s the new fellow?”

“He’s just here to help with transport, Mr. Montgomery, nothing unusual,” Miss Pauling replied, returning his smile and adjusting her glasses. “Heavy cases, you know how it is.”

“Of course, I remember you almost toppling clean over last time we made a trade!” Montgomery agreed, frowning at the memory. “You’ll pull a muscle that way, better to be careful. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man. And your name?”

“Mr. Normandy, sir,” the new kid replied easily enough despite his slight East Coast accent, giving the man a firm handshake, expression neutral and stony, the picture of professionalism. Internally, Pauling breathed a sigh of relief.

“Firm grip there, young man,” Montgomery praised, nodding approvingly. “Tennis player, perhaps? Or golf?”

“Baseball, sir,” he replied, still evenly. “First baseman.”

“Ah! Of course! Were you any good?” Montgomery joked.

“At everything but playing in front of the crowds, otherwise I’d be in the major leagues,” he replied, tilting his head just slightly to imply that he was joking, his sunglasses glinting at the movement, and Montgomery barked a laugh.

“I like this one, Miss Pauling!” Montgomery said, and Pauling just barely caught herself from physically relaxing at it.

“We do too, Mr. Montgomery,” she agreed. “I was under the impression that you’re very busy today, so we won’t keep you for too long, we just wanted to sort out the final details surrounding the manufacturing rights for the—“

“—Pacific Northwest branch, up into British Columbia and Alberta, of course,” Montgomery agreed, nodding faintly. “Of course, of course.” He turned to regard his own man in a dark suit, the one standing to the right, who appeared to be unsuccessfully trying to stare down Normandy, who was completely ignoring him. “My briefcase, please.”

The man handed over the briefcase, and Montgomery put it on his desk, opening it and pulling out a sheaf of papers. “All our requests are submitted and approved, at this point we just had a few dustbins to take care of regarding initial percentages and making sure everything is wired to the correct accounts, which names are undisclosed, things like that,” Pauling explained as he glanced through the papers.

“Right, right, everything looks good here,” the man murmured, nodding to himself, sending his long-white hair just ever-so-slightly out of place. “I’m assuming these more sensitive documents should be sent some way besides through the mail?”

“If you finish them today I can take them with me, otherwise either me or Mr. Normandy can return to pick them up at your convenience,” she replied, to which Normandy gave a singular nod.

“Oh, it would only take me a short while,” Montgomery said, waving a hand. “We have a lovely lounge just down the hall from here if you’d prefer to wait there, it should only take me ten, fifteen minutes at most. In the meantime, I do believe there’s also the manner of payment for services rendered.”

Miss Pauling tilted her head just slightly to one side, confused.

“I arranged with Helen already,” Montgomery explained, not looking up from where he was initialing a few things. “The payment, rather than being wired, she asked to be made in material investment. A venture of mine from years ago that she’s willing to sit on. Rather than gold or bonds, she agreed to take some old currency of mine that my family collected, from early 18th century New Zealand and Australia. Monetarily it’s worth around the same, and I’m quite a bit attached to it to be entirely frank, but it was at her request to buy the whole collection from me, and after years of the work we’ve been doing together, well, I’d never trust it with anyone else.”

He gestured to the other man, the one on his left, who stepped forward to hand him a manila envelope, which he passed to Pauling.

“Inside is both keys, the door alarm codes, and all other security information for the building where the collection is being stored. They’ll ask for a few codes and confirmation of identity, only because several other art collections and artifacts are being stored there by other affluent individuals such as myself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling said, taking the envelope gratefully.

“Think nothing of it, my dear. Helen talked me into it all her own,” he said easily enough. “Now, gentlemen, if you would let Miss Pauling and Mr. Normandy into our lounge? I should have these wrapped up before any of us can even think about lunch, eh?”

One of the suits showed the two of them through the doors and down the hallway, through two doors bracketed by similar suits who simply nodded politely at Pauling and ticked their chins at Normandy as they passed them.

Normandy posted up beside the door for all of three seconds before they shut and Pauling pulled her glasses up, rubbing at the bridge of her nose and making a vaguely distressed noise. He then promptly relaxed, instead leaning his hip against an armchair probably worth the same amount as a small car. “So, uh, we’re glad that he’s giving us a bunch of commemorative coins from when dinosaurs still walked the earth?” he asked just below normal speaking volume, eyebrows raised.

“Yes. Very glad. Because unlike about six people total on the planet, he hasn’t figured out yet how valuable those are.”

“What, is a picture of a kangaroo on some copper really gonna make up for a couple hundred thousand American dollars?” Normandy asked, sounding doubtful.

“Not copper. Something else,” she replied. “I can’t tell you much more about it other than that, but these coins are made of something priceless to us. And to the Administrator.”

“…Love? Memories? The magic of family?” he joked, cracking a smile, and she rolled her eyes, moving to open the envelope and start reading the papers inside. “Hey, uh, not to question whether my job should exist, but what the hell am I doing here, exactly? Besides carrying a briefcase. Like, chivalry isn’t dead but I really don’t think you need me carrying your bags and holding the door for you.”

“You’re helping with security, basically,” she replied, adjusting her glasses to squint at tiny handwriting about the collection. “Mr. Montgomery is trustworthy, but he mostly hires out to… well, people like us. His security detail is mostly people we’d rather have screened, freelancers, stuff like that. A lot of people we contract out to are like that. Most of them have heard about me and know better than to try and pull something, since I can hold my own pretty well, but if they haven’t, seeing a second person might persuade them to think it over again.”

“Oh, so I’m like, uh, when it says ‘tow zone’ next to the no parking signs even though nobody checks, or when they’ve got a camera in the corner of the store that isn’t even plugged into anything,” he said, and the looked up at him, confused. “Like, uh, what’s the word… I’m a casual deterrent.”

“Sure,” she said, because it sounded like he knew what he was talking about, shuffling the papers back away and closing the envelope again, making a note to ask the Administrator if she should change their current containment procedures to be closer to Mr. Montgomery’s. “Just… if there’s a fight, you deal with it, otherwise you just stand there and look like you’re paying attention.”

“That’s what the sunglasses are for,” he agreed. “I was blinking morse code at the guy across from me literally the whole time.”

“You know morse code?” Pauling asked, surprised.

“Just the alphabet, ‘S.O.S.’, and ‘ass’.”

She rolled her eyes again, and that’s when the door opened.

She expected Mr. Montgomery, not one of the men in suits. “Excuse me, both of you, if you don’t mind,”the man said, accent having the slightest English tilt to it, a Londoner if Pauling had to guess. “You’re Miss Pauling, the Mann Co. affiliate, yes?”

“That’s me,” she agreed, hesitant, and glanced at Normandy.

“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. Mr. Montgomery have you the wrong envelope on accident,” the man said apologetically, extending a hand forward. “We apologize for this unfortunate mix-up, it’s really quite embarrassing, but those documents are sensitive and we’ll be needing to see them back now.”

Pauling looked at him, and within a moment, shifted her expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she agreed, nodding. “No, right, of course. These aren’t the papers for the currency collection?”

“I’m afraid not,” the Brit agreed, head tilting just slightly, hand still extended, moving a fraction further forward.

“Well, thank goodness we figured out now and not with us halfway back,” she joked, and moved to hold the folder closer to her body. “I’ll take this right back to Mr. Montgomery, then.”

“He’s sent me to correct the error,” the man explained simply.

“Right,” she said, and saw in her periphery that Normandy had already started sneaking a hand in towards his primary, clearly having pieced together something she was only suspecting. “We can bring this to his office, then, right down the hall.”

“You misunderstand,” the man said, taking a step forward again. “I’ll be taking it to his office myself.”

“That’s funny,” Pauling said. “I didn’t realize you had clearance to be in there. Or to be carrying a semi-automatic instead of a standard handgun.”

The Brit reached for the semi-automatic, and before he could even get it out properly, Normandy hit one clean shot to the side of his head and another to his thigh, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Pauling had only as far as pulling her own handgun free, thumb on the safety, and breathed a sigh of relief, glancing over at Normandy, shifting to more comfortably hold her gun. “Quick reflexes,” she noted.

“Just noticed a lot sooner, maybe,” he shrugged, stepping forward to glance over the body, tucking his gun back away.

“What was your hint?”

“He’s here to give us the right folder, yeah? Well, why were his hands empty, then?”

She was just starting to nod and realize that as well when a second man shouldered through the door, holding a gun at the ready. Normandy scrambled to draw his own, but Pauling fired a shot into his knee, shoulder, and neck to send him dropping before he was even close. “There’s quick on the draw, and then there’s prepared,” she said pointedly. “Gotta think of if there’s more than one, new guy.”

He nodded, and drew his gun again, bending to hit the guy on the ground at the temple hard enough to knock him out if he wasn’t unconscious already. He then glanced up at the sound of a shout from the other side of the door, two men shouldering through, guns drawn but lowered. It was only the firm eye contact they made with both her and Normandy that made her pause the millisecond it took to realize these ones weren’t trying to kill them.

“Pauling, what on earth is going on here?!” Montgomery demanded, entering the room and staring with wide eyes at the bodies on the ground. “What could’ve possessed you to—“

“He was trying to run off with these documents,” she explained quickly, gesturing with the envelope. “He knew whatever was in here was valuable.”

“He drew his gun, sir,” Normandy added, tipping his head down towards the body, and Pauling glanced down as well and found herself a little surprised. He’d rearranged the man just slightly, apparently, adjusting the arm to be holding the gun a bit further outward. “Other one was aiming to kill.”

“My, my,” Montgomery tsk’d, shaking his head as he surveyed the scene. “What a mess. My apologies, Miss Pauling, Mr. Normandy.”

“It’s alright, but you need to start doing more thorough checks on your staff, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling stressed.

“He’s only been here two weeks, sir, he was one of the men we hired in a hurry after the incident last month,” one of the bodyguards said, and Montgomery shook his head.

“Thank goodness nobody was hurt,” he sighed. “Mutiny, and besides that, they’re bleeding on my carpet. Here are those papers, Miss Pauling—what a day, eh?”

“It’s really alright, we handled it,” Pauling assured him, giving her bravest smile, a little exasperated now.

“Right, right, you and the first baseman,” he agreed, and Normandy fought back an actual smile.

“If you’d like, we can take care of those for you,” Pauling said, gesturing at the bodies. “To pay you back for the carpet and the scare.”

“Sounds fair to me,” Montgomery agreed, clearly relieved.

-

“My dad’s gonna be pissed, by the way,” Normandy was so helpful as to say on the way back up the path to the base. “And you’re fielding that.”

“About the suit, or the fight?” she asked, glancing at his clothes where he was somewhat covered in a fine dusting of mud and grime from the gravedigging, shovel still in his free hand.

“Both. Mostly the fight. Your fault for saying it’d be an easy one to start with,” he said.

“If it was going to be that much of a problem, you wouldn’t have gotten this job. I’d just have made you go do dishes all day or something,” Pauling replied.

“Point taken,” he said, walking ahead to get the door, holding it open for her. “Wait, we’re allowed to mention what we do, right? Just not names?”

“Or locations, even with travel distance. Round up to the hour if it comes up,” she replied.

“Sure, sure,” he agreed, trailing a step behind her as she led the way through the base.

In the common area, there was a bit of a ruckus happening. Soldier, Heavy, and Demo appeared to be having some kind of arm wrestling competition on a rapidly-toppling table, the Engineer was on a stepstool trying to fix the ceiling fan, and Sniper appeared to be half-watching the beginnings of an argument between Pyro and the Spy regarding use of the oven as Medic patched up a burn on his arm.

“Hullo,” Sniper greeted the two of them, sounding a little bored, Medic giving them a brief, polite nod. Normandy’s eyebrows were raised pretty far as he surveyed the room.

“Hi, Sniper,” she greeted in return, then cleared her throat, raised her voice. “Team meeting in five minutes! New mission for next week!”

Groans from the room at large, the eight mercenaries starting to finish up what they were doing and filing out. Spy moved over, glancing over Normandy and starting to talk to him in rapid-fire French, picking smaller bits of gravel off of his suit as they walked.

“Alright,” she addressed the room, Normandy peeling off from getting mother hen’d by Spy to stand next to the blackboard with her. “Monday, you’re all going on a transport mission. Getting the truck from point A to point B with everything in the boxes intact. Already we’ve had to put up with some people trying to get ahold of these things, so bring your guns.”

“Oh, our guns, you said? Lads, this is a serious one, keep your heads on a feckin' swivel, she’s sayin’ we might even need guns, can you believe it?” Demo faux-gasped, and chuckled when Spy bopped him on the arm, rolling his eyes at the Scot's theatrics.

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved off, flipping through the papers a bit. “So Engie, I’ll need the keys to the truck, me and Normandy are going to be loading those tomorrow, all of you need to be at this drop point bright and early.”

“How early?” Heavy rumbled.

“Six. Hour and a half of drive from here.”

Some complaints from the room that she sighed at.

“Hey, hey, calm the hell down,” Normandy cut in, and she glanced over at him where he had his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. “You chuckleheads get to have all eight of you to unload the damn thing, me and Miss P gotta do all the rest of this on our own and probably kill twenty guys on the way there and back. She had to be up at 6 AM, workin’ since 7 AM, lunch break at noon and nothin’ else, and we just got back now at, what, fuckin’, 10, 11 PM? Any of you work her shift and then see if you even got the energy to complain about wakin’ up early, how about that?”

The room went utterly devoid of complaint or backsass. “Thank you, Normandy,” she said politely, and he just nodded once, glancing off to the side. “Anyways, anything new on this end? Spy, how are you adjusting?”

“Very well,” he said simply. “I have nothing pressing to say. Once I’ve been updated from the stock weaponry provided here to my requested preferred weaponry, I believe I should do just fine.”

“I see you already have Herr Normandy digging graves,” Medic chimed in. “Straight into the hard labor, ja?”

“Eh, hey, y’know, it’s why they keep us young people around,” he shrugged, grinning, and there was a brief uproar to drown out Medic’s entirely offended scoffing and Spy’s snort-laughing.

“Get ‘im, lad!” Demo cheered, and Normandy indeed looked fairly proud of himself.

“Monday, transport mission,” Pauling noted over the noise, writing it up on the chalkboard to hide her own smile from the room. “Normandy, you and me are doing the boxes tomorrow. Everyone on the same page? Good. Dismissed. Oh, and Pyro—stop taking the fire alarms down when they beep. They’re beeping because you light things on fire in the base. Do that outside.”

“Oh, hey, uh, helmet guy, All-American Beef,” Normandy called, and Soldier straightened up. “Here’s your shovel back. Gettin’ my own tomorrow.”


Soldier walked directly over to him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a high honor, Cadet,” he said, tone grave. “Do not take this responsibility lightly.”

“I, uh, I won’t?” he said hesitantly, and blinked a few times as the shovel was carefully taken from him before it was promptly marched from the room in double-time. Only then did Normandy look over at her. “So he’s always like that?”

“You’ll get used to it,” she assured, dusting chalk from her hands. “You should get to sleep soon, we have to be up early.”

“Sure thing, Miss P.”

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #my fanfiction #dad!spy #father-son bonding au #shut up me #que? #in this au he picks a fake name like she does. later i think demo starts calling him norman and some of the others do as well as goofs #also apologies for montgomery i couldnt quite get away with not naming random rich guy. just barely scraped by with guards one through four #everybody talks

[haikyuuu-r-us]

{Unofficial Game} [Alpha Ushijima Wakatoshi x Omega reader] (2)

PART TWO SINCE IT WAS SO HIGHLY REQUESTED! Seriously thank yall so much i really enjoyed writing this! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

PT1: https://haikyuuu-r-us.tumblr.com/post/625077449031548928/erm-okay-so-i-dont-usually-do-asks-fr-like-that

don’t look too closely or you’ll see spots where my adhd brain went apeshit and went off-topic lol

Tag list: @sawamooora​

IDK if this is the last part so let me know if you wanna  be on the tag list if i add more. It’ll probably be a bunch of cute oneshots after awhile but under the same name.

OKAY SO I GOT A liiiittle carried away (ง ื▿ ื)ว :☆*:･

enjoy!

Ushijima Wakatoshi was a very intimidating alpha.

He wasn't the type to purposefully threaten people, though sometimes, particularly when he felt as though other alphas had ill-will towards him, he'd stand taller, breathe slower, and leave his inner alpha to do the rest. 

He had no need to be overly aggressive. He knew his place and believed others should know theirs and stick to it. 

Unfortunately, many didn't. Most omegas now were snappy and rude. They believed that they didn't need an alpha, or at the very least didn't want one. Many others would use their omega charms to manipulate an alpha to do what they desired. Very few omegas, like you, are content with the role you presented, and you seemed perfectly fine listening and obeying the alphas around you. 

This was where his irritation stemmed from. You were all too willing to keel over for any alpha should they ask something of you. Tendou was a good example of this. He deemed you his girl best friend, and both of you often did things for the other. However, Tendou was an alpha, and sometimes he'd unknowingly put you into an "uncomfortable spot" so to speak. 

Of course, you would continue on with what he asked of you, even though the first year alphas seemed to leer at you, even though the coach wasn't too happy about your presence during practice, and even though you knew you weren't entirely welcome. Because he was an alpha, and he was above you in the hierarchy. 

It wasn't only Tendou though. He supposed that at least then it wouldn’t be as bad and he most certainly didn't mind your presence, his alpha just wanted to pin you down somewhere and demand you bare your throat to him. He rather enjoyed having your eyes on them while they practiced. He wasn't one to flaunt, he knew he was the strongest on the team. 

Everyone knew he was the strongest.

Sometimes though, when he'd slam the volleyball down particularly hard, or when they played against one another, he'd feel an unstoppable desire to unleash all his strength. He knew you were there. He could feel your eyes on him. He didn't need to look at you to get the message across, it was in the air, he knew that you realized what he was doing, after all, you should.

I’m the strongest.

He knew because occasionally, he'd hear a soft shaky inhale. Even if he was in the middle of a spike, he could sense your attention when it shifted onto him and he'd take full advantage of that moment to use his full strength to complete what he was doing, even if it was completely unnecessary. The first year didn't stand a chance, the blonde one that refused to leave you alone after practice. He didn't like his playstyle or his scent. 

The blonde tripped over his own feet and ended up landing on his side. For a moment he stayed there but when he started to shift to get up, a growl froze him in his place. On the other side of the net, knees slowly lifting himself up, Wakatoshi Ushijima stood at full height. 

He was terrifying. 

His upper lip twitched and the dark shadow that had covered his eyes left when he shifted his head to stare down the arrogant first year. The pup had asked for the one on one, and though at first, he told the brat 'no', he kept insisting until Ushijima finally agreed. 

There was no reason for the first year to be treated as though he was a serious opponent. There was no reason to play so roughly and with so much strength. There was no reason to snarl at the younger alpha male when he tried to get up, and there was certainly no reason for Ushijima to pin the boy down with a purposefully intimidating stare. 

He heard Semi and Goshiki calling at him and asking what the hell was going on, but he didn't break the glare. Defiantly, the younger alpha stood, and even managed to scrape together enough confidence to smirk at the much more superior alpha in front of him. 

Just a pup. Didn't know his place in the pack yet. 

They weren't really a pack. Sure, they had a leading alpha and other alphas and betas. However, a pack wasn't truly a pack without an omega. 

This alpha, however... He was challenging Wakatoshi, not only in front of the team but in front of you. Ushijima felt his inner alpha rattling the bars that kept him restrained. He didn't need to prove himself to this pup. In fact, the pup wasn't the one he desired to prove himself to at all. 

The alpha pup grunted and winced when he tried to grab the volleyball that was gradually rolling his way. "Shit." The blonde clutched at his side as the others made their way onto the court. 

"You okay man?" 

"Shit dude, you hit the ground pretty hard there."

"Stretch your arms above your head, does it hurt?"

Tendou rested a hand on Ushiwaka's shoulder, his appearance amused. Ushijima only watched the blonde as he exaggerated his injury. 

"You went too hard on him Ushijima-san. He's a pup, you don't need to prove yourself to keep your rank." Semi sighed out and his eyes moved to the captain, eyeing his expressions and odd behavior. 

"Liiiiiisten, listen to me Ushiwaka-kun." Tendou commenced with a serious look. "I wanna kick his ass as much as you do, but getting violent with pups prooooobably is not the best way to get Omega-chan's attention." He whispered the last part with a mischievous grin and pointed towards you whilst wagging his finger. 

Turning his head he met Tendou's gaze with a glare that told the other alpha that it probably wasn't the best idea to bring you into this. "He challenged me." Semi sighed and stood on the other side of their captain. "That may be true, but there's no need to accept it. He's a cocky first year, he'll learn his place eventually- Ah, Captain?" Semi's brow quirked upwards when a menacing aura developed around their leader. 

His eyes were bearing holes into the alpha pup who sat beside you on the bench. The pup was too close. He was trying to get your attention but your eyes were glued to your sketchbook, only glancing up when he snatched it away from you. His ears picked up the alpha tone in his voice, something completely unnecessary for just asking you to grab some water for him. 

Ushijima's eyes narrowed as you shifted away from the overconfident pup to grab a bottle from the cooler to hand over to him. His fingers curled into a tight fist when the pup pressed a finger onto your cheek and muttered something that turned your cheeks bright red. You glanced around nervously, clearly flustered and looking for a distraction, only for your gaze to land on him. Immediately your expression flushed further, however you gave him a shaky embarrassed grin and a small wave to accompany it. 

Semis eyes shifted from the scene on the bench over to his captain. Typically Ushijima would've been entirely unaware of that sort of thing. He could be rather dense with social cues, but the fact he recognized that you were bothered and uncomfortable spoke volumes. How long had he been guarding you like that? Semi could only wonder. 

"Tch." His alpha was only seeing the way that damn pup dragged your attention away from him. Pouting and asking what you were working on that was oh so important. Your scent was shifting, you were nervous. 

Ushijima didn't get into fights. Not even when outrightly challenged. He'd never really had the desire to. 

However. 

Recently his alpha was calling more shots than he was. Taking initiative and becoming snappy. He felt off and though he knew why he couldn't quite fix it yet.  Soon he would, but he wanted to focus on the upcoming practice match with Seirin, an upstart volleyball team that shot through the ranks out of nowhere. He needed to get that match through first. He couldn't afford any distractions. 

He usually was cool-headed when it came to other things. He knew exactly what he was doing. There was no need to constantly prove that he was the strongest. 

No. Omega isn't happy. Need to defend. Need to FIGHT. 

A low rumble tore through his throat.

He didn't have time to torment someone - he needed to train. He shouldn't need to protect his own omega from his pack. 

She's mine. Go away. Stupid pup. 

"Yo, Ushiwaka-" Tendou began. 

"What." He grunted, refusing to look away, keeping an eye on the handsy alpha male. 

"How close are you to your ruuuuut? Cuz you look like you're about to skin the pup ALIIIIVEE!" Tendou ended the question in a giggle when Ushiwaka's glare increased on the alpha. 

Rut. That's it. That's why he'd been so touchy about the other alphas being near you. 

His gaze flipped over to you, and how you were looking more and more uncomfortable with the entire situation. The alpha’s hand relaxed on your thigh while he bent over your shoulder to watch you draw. He examined your uncomfortable expression and the way you attempted to subtly shift away. 

Stop touching her. 

He finally spun away, death gripping the volleyball Tendou hurled to him. Despite the alpha’s efforts at distraction, he still smelt your high-strung and apprehensiveness. He could tell him to leave you alone,  but he didn't want to embarrass you. He had shooed that particular alpha away from you before once, and when the others stared your eyes watered, and Tendou was the one who guided you away.

Tendou later explained in their dorm room that you preferred to deal with your problems out of the public eye. He still didn't fully understand, but he most certainly didn't want to hurt you further, his alpha knew that much. 

The match was tonight. He could release his frustrations then.

That was his plan. Bottle, unleash.

It was supposed to be, at least, until he heard a distinctive whine and the sound of your sketchbook and pencil cracking against the polished floors. His head then turned towards you, and there was no way in hell, that pup would have survived had he not had absolute control over his inner alpha, as well as Tendou resting a hand on his shoulder; not holding him back necessarily, just… confirming.

The blonde must've discerned your plan to dart away from him, and when he had moved behind you to watch you draw, he'd taken advantage of the position and now had both hands on you. One on each thigh, squeezing hard. They dug into your leggings and he could see the soft fat of your thighs give way under his firm grasp. His face was inches away from your neck, and he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. You tried to wriggle away, with a whimper and a shake of your head. Ushijima couldn't hear what he said next but your response was what caused both of his team-mates to let him help you. 

Your gaze locked onto his own and your eyes, wide and far past uncomfortable, were brimming with tears. 

Annihilate him. 

He took measured steps, holding your gaze the entire time. Ignoring the warning growl of the Alpha behind you. Slowly, so as to not cause a larger scene for your sake, he kneeled in front of you, reached forward, and seized hold of both of the male’s hands. Forcefully he removed them from your thighs, and without relinquishing his hold, he maneuvered around the bench and closer to the struggling pup. He lifted him up by his wrists and simply let him dangle there for a few moments. 

With every second the smaller alpha began to shake and eventually try to apologize. With every word, he tightened his hold. 

"He's not the one you should be apologizing to." 

Tendou. It didn't sound like he was very happy. His alpha tone and scent were intense, causing you and even a few of the other first-years to tense. 

"Shit-ow! Shi- I'm sorry! ACH IM SORRY OKAY!"

Tendou’s eyes narrowed before his demeanor radically changed and he beamed ear to ear. "Okie Dokie then!"

"You should let him go now, captain. I believe he's learned his place." Semi observed. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi saw no need to romance an omega. If she was his he'd protect her, and she would learn she was his. There was no need for elaborate gifts and dramatic proclamations of love. However, he wasn't the type to seek out trouble to prove his strength. He wasn't the type to 'hit first and hit hard'.  

He was an Alpha that simply knew his role in the pack. 

Out. He's out. Not part of my pack. Out. Get out. 

He could crack the pup’s wrists to prevent him from competing in volleyball again, and the thought remained too long to completely sweep aside. Outside of school, the move the pup pulled would have gotten him killed. Snapping his wrists would be compassionate. 

Instead, he dropped the child to the ground. Clenching his hand instead of kicking him in the stomach. 

"Go to Coach Washijō and tell him you're quitting." Your eyes widened at the demand, and the pup didn't waste a moment before lurching to the exit and using the door frame as a support to push him on his way. Scowls were thrown at him by both first and second years as he hurried out the door. 

Tendou rested a hand on your head and ruffled your hair in a comforting manner. "You okay? Lil marshmallooooow??" Completely humiliated you smacked his hands away and stood. "Yeah- I'm just- ...going to go to my dorm, I-I shouldn't come anymore anyway..." 

"Wha- No!!"

You pressed your lips together tightly. You felt disgusting and the desire to rub your hands where the other males had been was strong. Handsy alphas were something you still weren't quite used to. You were good at hiding yourself away in nooks and crannies so people wouldn't bother you, so this was pretty upsetting. 

A deep voice broke the silence. 

"I'll walk you back." That wasn't a suggestion. He was still using his alpha tone - causing your inner omega to whine softly in fear of disobeying. He either didn't notice or he ignored it. 

You quickly gathered your things and promised Tendou that, yes, you pinky swore you'd see his match later. While he latched onto your back and sent joke after joke your way while begging you to stay, causing Semi to try and pry him off of you, Ushijima-senpai held the door open for the two of you to leave. Tendou called something out but you couldn't quite make out what he said. Whatever it was caused Ushijima-senpai to sigh. 

"You didn't have to-" 

He silenced you with a sharp look, forcing your omega to look away. 

His scent. Strong. Protective. Feel safe. 

That was true to an extent, you supposed. He wasn't ever purposefully mean to you. Sometimes things he said rubbed you the wrong way, but Tendou told you he was just blunt and really dense sometimes. 

He stopped abruptly, causing you to collide with his back. Despite only being so close for a split second, you jumped away immediately, and your omega keened at the contact.

Warm. Muscular. Smells so good.

Warm. Soft. She smells good.

He motioned at the fork in the path, causing you to stutter out the directions.

"Omegas are weak and need to lean onto alphas in order to succeed." His words caught you off guard. 

"Uhm, I'm sorry, I... don't understand."

He glanced down at you for a moment. 

"You don’t ask for help. That’s what omegas need to do." You barely managed to keep yourself from flinching. Your dorm was close. You could run inside and avoid the lecture you were certain was coming. You felt your omega whimper. You hated it when you were reprimanded.

"I had it handled." You tried to sound brave and confident despite knowing it was a complete lie. You had panicked and were completely lost on how to stop the alpha.

Your words caused his brows to furrow. 

"Omegas should not handle that situation." 

Irritation pooled in your stomach and the words flew out of your mouth before you could think. "I know you just as well as I know him. If anything 'Tori-kun should have stepped in. I- you shouldn't just-" your words faltered when his scent grew intense, omega instincts screaming at you to stop. It wasn't like you to speak out of turn. Maybe it was the way he spoke as though omegas had a checklist of ways to deal with situations. 

"Omegas are supposed to listen to alph-" 

"Isn't that what I was doing!?" Irritation caused you to snap, and the two of you finally reached the side of your dorm building. Angry and already upset from earlier, you attempted to leave but immediately upon realizing your intent, his body had you pinned to the wall of your dormitory.

"Omegas respect alphas." He continued darkly, and shock kept you from moving. 

"Alphas are supposed to treat omegas with respect and care for them. That is their job. When an alpha tries to take advantage of your own submissive nature you are to call for me. Do you understand?" That last part didn’t sound like a question, and despite the fact he was keeping you cornered, your primal urges that keened at the display of dominance. 

Yes. Alpha. Please. More. Put me in my place.

You face flushed at the chants from your omega and bit your lip while you attempted to level out your breathing.

Alpha. So close. 

"From now on," he started softly, a correction on his end for sounding so harsh. 

"You will be my omega. You will come for the official and unofficial games."

You had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from 'yes sir'ing him. 

"Oh,"

'I need to say something- what do I say?' 

You couldn't just say 'yes sir' or anything! What-was this how all alphas asked someone out? You lifted your gaze at an attempt to figure out what to say. Your omega was practically bouncing in joy at the proposition, and you shivered when another wave of his scent rolled over you. 

"Uhm," you shifted, finally realizing how little space was between the two of you. 'Shit why is he so close!?'

Yes. He'll protect. He'll do nicely. Perfect alpha. 

Your omega was cheering in excitement while you were still struggling to process exactly what was going on. Your fingers found the edge of your jacket and fidgeted with the hem. 

"Y-yes, alpha. "

'SHITSHITSHIT- no! That's so dumb why did I say that! I could've said ANYTHING ELSE WHY THAT?!?'

A low, deep purr of approval rolled out from his chest, pleased with your acceptance and submission. His hand shifted lower, as though he wanted to do something, but he seemed to change his mind at the last moment, instead, pulling away from you with a firm nod. 

Your head was still lowered slightly in submission to the high ranking alpha that stood before you. He watched you for a moment, his gaze memorizing your nervous and confused, but still sweet and accepting scent. 

"Good girl." He praised darkly before completely breaking away, allowing you the chance to head back to your dorm. His alpha snarled at him to pin you down and claim you where you stood, however, you were right. You didn't know him any better than the pup. Despite his oncoming rut, he bit his alpha back and watched you scamper back into your dorm building as though your life was in jeopardy should you not. 

He turned slowly, glaring at the alpha pup who was watching from around the corner of the dorm building in anger. He didn't dare approach Wakatoshi again, the pup may have been stupid but at the very least he had a sense of self-preservation.

"Did you talk to Coach Washijō?" 

The pup’s hands fisted and the muscles in his jaws ticked. "Yes." He was forced to stare at the ground, knowing that should he stare the dominant alpha in the eyes it would be taken as a threat. 

"Good. I do not wish to see you near her again. Understood?"

The alpha growled but nodded, shifting uncomfortably under Ushijima’s intense gaze. After debating with his alpha, he eventually managed to glare at the stronger alpha, irritation seeping through his pores. 

"You are neither allowed near any of the matches nor the building itself." 

"Y-yes." The blonde managed to choke out through his anger. 

"Good." As Ushijima turned away, he knew what the younger alphas intentions were, as pathetic as it seemed, his revenge was obvious. His scent gave him away and despite his alphas desire to chase after his omega, he knew he'd need to take care of the threat and return to practice. 

The moment the alpha lunged forward to attack him, Ushijima turned sharply, grabbing his wrist and snapping it with ease. He couldn't ignore his inner alpha’s delight in the act. 

The other alpha, although in major pain, refused to scream, and Ushijima, still patient, tightened his grasp on the younger alphas wrist. 

"You are a fool," Ushijima growled, feeling his patience beginning to wear thin at the other alphas’ snarls of anger. 

"What was your plan exactly?" He wasn't mocking the Alpha, instead, he found himself asking from disbelief in the outright stupidity of the Alpha below him. He'd already lost more than once. First, the game, then, Ushijima's omega, now this. Baseless confidence. 

He found his irritation rising and thought to snap the other wrist, but he suppressed his alpha who begrudgingly agreed. He'd lost thrice. It'd take a total moron to try again. After these acts of foolishness, Ushijima had no doubt the pup would be kicked from the school premises. They had no time for troublemakers after all. 

He released the boy and stood, not even bothering to check over his shoulder this time. Should the bastard dare oppose him once more, a death sentence would be merciful.

He eyed the entrance of the dorm as walked back to the gym, ensuring the front of the building was indeed secure before continuing on his path. He was unaffected by the bright sun and his alpha preened at thought of her watching him decimate the opposing team.

She would be there, her omega would dictate so. Even if it didn't, he'd seen it in her eyes. The way they flicked off his form to the ground, and back to the way his arms caged her in. The way her scent had shifted to a more tangy palette in shock. The way she shifted and fiddled with the hem of her jacket. She was nervous and her scent had shifted to support that. He found himself pleased that her scent portrayed her emotions so readily. It meant that he didn't need to ask or interrogate her of her thoughts. He had noticed the way she bit her lip after he'd commanded her attendance to his games, and how she breathed in his scent as though attempting to calm herself. 

Sweet girl. She's mine. 

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, purposefully recalling the words that nearly dragged his alpha out into the open. 

"Y-yes, alpha."

Good omega, so small and sweet-tempered.

He'd see to it that no one, not even Tendou, would lay a finger on her. After-all he still needed to ensure she only depended on him. No other person gets to touch her. 

His alpha was more than pleased with the thought. 

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuuxreader #haikyuu omegaverse #haikyuu wakatoshi #Ushijima Wakatoshi #wakatoshi x reader #ushiwaka #alphawakatoshi #Alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omegaverse #omega reader #alphawakatoshixomegareader #alpha wakatoshi x omega reader #alpha ushijima #haikyuu!!omegaverse #dom/sub #alpha/omega #alpha/beta/omega dynamics x reader #/omegareader #alphatendou #alphasemi #possessive themes #imeanitisomegaverse

[bxngchxn]

strawberries and red wine || l. minho (lee know)

this is a fic that I have re-uploaded from my old blog, @ethereal-bang . I’ll be reuploading all of my old works here and deleting my old blog soon. hope you enjoy!

characters: minho x fem reader

wc: 4.8k

genre: SMUT, dilf!minho, some fluff

warnings: slight hard dom themes, unprotected sex (always wear a condom!), oral (male receiving)

THE FIRST OF THE DILF!SKZ SERIES IS FINALLY HERE!!

This contains mature content and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

    　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

“No, Mina what did I tell you we do NOT pull people’s hai- wait, BENJAMIN, where did you get that frog from?!? Let it go!!” You scramble around the classroom as you try and control the chaos that is your 4s classroom. Being the lead teacher in a room full of toddlers is nowhere near easy, but you’ve always had an affinity for kids. It started out with babysitting your cousins on the weekends, then volunteering as a counselor at summer camp. Eventually it led to you, taking early education classes in college and graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education. Now, you find yourself here, making sure these kids keep the sand IN the sand box, for the third time this week.

No matter how frustrated you got, though, you could never get genuinely angry. They’re just babies, after all. They have no real concept of right and wrong (or object permanence for that matter), therefore their decision making skills are ~slightly~ off. Plus, they look so cute with their innocent, bright smiles and big eyes. How could you not love them?

The day is just about over, and you’re trying to get everything as clean as possible before the kids leave, that way you don’t have to stay too late to finish it all. It’s Friday, and the thought of going home to your quiet apartment for some much needed me time is all you’re thinking about as you wipe down the snack table. You survey the other children to make sure no one is causing trouble, and you smile as you take in the sight of everyone (finally) sitting in their assigned seats, various hobbies distracting them as they wait for their parents to arrive.

You hear a slight crash, and a teeny tiny voice accompany it.

“Shit!”

That single word, coming from such a small mouth catches you off guard. You want to laugh– but you know better than to encourage it. Shocked expression on your face, you walk over to the table where the two girls are playing Jenga. The tower has been knocked down, and you can only assume that the expletive was said by the loser of the game. A sweet little girl, brown hair almost nearing her waist and big eyes that still held stars in them, was looking up at you in confusion. “Now sweetie, where did you learn that word from?” You ask incredulously.

The way she was looking at you screamed innocence, her smile never faltering. “From my daddy! He said it when he dropped the casserole on the ground the other night. But it’s okay! He ordered us a pizza instead!” She says and you can’t help but giggle, while simultaneously making a note to speak to the girl’s father. Kids tend to overshare way too much, and it reminds you of all the crazy things you’ve heard over the years– those poor parents.

Before you know it, the day has ended and it’s time to walk the children outside. Calling your students to form a line at the door, you double check for backpacks and blankies and stuffed animals. Once everyone (and everything) is settled, you lead the children outside to their parents who are standing with open arms, ready to have their babies back with them for the night. The sight is always so endearing, the little ones getting overly excited and jumping into their parents’ arms.

 As you watch everyone begin to leave, you notice a certain brunette toddler waddling up to her father, who scoops her up into his arms and immediately puts her on his shoulders.

She looks like him, the way that his eyes seem to shine reminiscent of the sparkle you get to see in hers every morning. He’s rocking her back and forth as she’s sat atop him, her giggles ringing out through the daycare’s playground and bringing a sense of calm and happiness to the air. Making your way over to the two of them, your breath catches in your throat when you realize the height difference between the two of you. He’s at least a head taller than you, making you feel small as you get his attention. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lee? Would it be okay if I had a word with you for just a moment?” You ask him quietly.

He looks at you, and you can feel your heartbeat skip when a small smile graces his lips. Taking his daughter off of his shoulders, he ushers her over toward another parent, and the child runs off with Kim Seungmin and his daughter, with promises of ice cream from the truck down the road. “Absolutely, is everything okay Ms….?” He says, realizing (embarrassingly) that he’s never gotten your name. “Y/N! My name is Y/N.” You say with a smile, and he nods, wanting to commit your name to memory.

Minho has seen you day in and day out, greeting the kids in the morning at drop off, and bringing them outside to release to their parents. He’s spoken to you maybe once? Maybe twice? He really wasn’t sure, but something about your soft smile and the way you take care of the children is hitting him differently today. He has a mix of curiosity and slight panic running through his system, afraid his daughter had gotten into big trouble. She’s his whole world, and although raising her on his own definitely isn’t easy, it’s just as equally rewarding. She’s just like him, her personality so big and so funny for someone so little.

“Everything is okay! I just wanted to tell you, your daughter did something today…” you started, and you can see the look in his eyes shift from panic to humor as you explain the situation from earlier today. He chuckles a little once you finish speaking, and you’re laughing too. “Ah, oh my goodness I am so sorry…” he trails off. “It’s alright, Mr. Lee, dont wo-” “Minho,” he cuts you off. “You can call me Minho,” he says, and you nod your head in agreement. “It’s okay, Minho. It actually was pretty funny..just be a little more careful around her, okay?” You giggle, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks blush pink.

After that, talking to Minho when he came to pick up his daughter became a daily occurrence. It was never for long, maybe two or three minutes of conversation at a time, but it was something you looked forward to. He seemed so carefree, always coming in with a smile on his face. Each day his little girl runs to him and demands to be put on his shoulders, and he always obliges.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t form some type of crush on the man in question. You would find yourself hiding your smile after every little interaction, and you weren’t sure how to feel about the fact that you fell for him so easily. It had been a long time since you had decided to focus on your love life, so every time you get those butterflies in your chest you’re unsure of how to react.

Minho, on the other hand, is absolutely smitten. He never took this kind of interest in his daughter’s teachers before. He couldn’t explain it, but the feeling he gets when he witnesses his little girl run up to hug you in the mornings as you head to class fills him with a lighthearted emotion. Plus, the more he spoke to you, the more he came to find out that the two of you are fairly similar. He knew that he needed to take you out on a date. It was the only thing he could think about.

Would it be inappropriate? Absolutely. For as long as you were her teacher, there was no way he’d be able to openly express his feelings. So, he waits. He keeps his feelings at bay for the remainder of the year, waiting for summer to come so he can ask you out on an actual date. And when he does, it’s in the most unexpected way possible.

You see, Minho had a plan. Your birthday was coming up soon, and he was going to get you a small gift and a card with some cheesy pick up line, asking you to do him the honor of going to dinner with him. His daughter, however, has a (very unfiltered) mind of her own.

The summer months were in full swing, the heat and humidity taking over the town as people rode their bikes through the streets, and everyone who drove a car with their windows down, music playing at full volume. It was one of your favorite things about summer, you loved seeing everyone enjoying themselves, alongside the nostalgic feeling of freedom that comes with the warmer weather. This is why you decide one Saturday morning to get up early and head to the Farmer’s Market. The big, open air market held fond memories from your childhood, and going there to shop for your groceries became a stress reliever for you ever since you started college. The older women selling produce were the sweetest, always giving you free samples when you came round.

Today was one of those days, the smells of spices and different street foods filling your noose as you looked at some apples at a produce stand. You pick up what seems like the perfect apple. Round, shiny, no bruises anywhere. That is, until you feel a little someone bump into your legs.

The apple falls to the ground when you’re knocked over, and you hear a small, familiar voice give you an apology. It’s almost a shock when you hear Minho’s voice, too, as you turn around. “Oh my god, miss, I am so…Y/N?” He apologizes, stopping in his tracks when he realizes that it’s you who is standing in front of the two of them. “Oh! Minho, hello! And hi there sweetheart! It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me,” you say in a small voice, dropping down to her level so you can meet her eyes. “But I made you drop your apple! I’m really sorry,” she pouts, and your heart absolutely melts at the sweetness. “It’s okay, I can just get another one! Why don’t you help me pick it out, yeah?” You ask, and her eyes light up with their familiar brightness.

She nods her head furiously and you laugh, picking her up when she raises her arms. You hold her on your hip and lean down just enough for her to grab a new apple to put in your bag. On the sidelines, Minho is trying so hard not to die at the sight in front of him. His daughter looks so happy, and so do you, bonding over the differences between the fruits. He just smiles as he watches in the interaction.

“This one looks perfect! Don’t you agree, sweetie?” You ask the little girl, and she giggles and takes it from your hands. “Yeah! Daddy, look at the apple~~” she says, and Minho’s attention is brought back to the girl in your arms. “Y-yes pumpkin, it looks really perfect! Red apples are a lot sweeter than green apples, they’re your favorite right? Why don’t we get some too?” Minho rambles rather quickly, and it makes you laugh as you watch him clumsily put some apples into a produce bag and hand money to the lady working at the register.

Once you also pay for your apples, Minho invites you to come have lunch with the two of them in the picnic area. You can’t bring yourself to tell them no, so you follow them to an area of grass that is filled with families eating, playing and just enjoying the summer weather. You and Minho help his daughter with her lunch, all the while enjoying the time together, as well. It had been a while since you’d seen each other, because the little girl was no longer in your 4’s class. You spent a few hours with the two of them, and when it was time to go, his little girl scrambles into your lap before you can even make a move to get up.

“I figured something out!” She says, proudly. “Yes, dear, what is it?” Minho asks her, and you crane your head to look over at her. “I think daddy likes you, Miss Y/N,” she blurts out. Your cheeks turn pink, and Minho starts stuttering. “W-what makes you think that, love?” You ask her, and she shrugs her head, completely unbothered by the fact that the two of you look like you’ve been caught, even though nothing has happened.

“Well,” she says, determined. “Daddy talks reaaaallyyyy fast when he talks about me, or soonie doongie and dori, because he likes us a lot. And he does the same thing when he talks to you, or talks about you. I just figured that because he talks fast like that, it must mean he really likes you. Because daddy talks reeeaaally fast about you.” She says, and then goes back to eating a strawberry out of the container that Minho brought with him. The blush on your cheeks turns even darker, and Minho’s face isn’t too far behind, either.

“Aaah, I see. You must be really smart to have figured that out, huh?” You ask her as you laugh, trying to make your nervousness go away. Minho has since taken interest in his hands, not being able to look you in the eye. “Well,” you start, getting the girl’s attention. You lean in close, but still far enough away that Minho can hear, too. “I think that I like your daddy just as much,” You “whisper” in her ear. Her eyes go wide, and Minho’s face shoots up from looking at his hands. “Really?!” The girl squeals, and you just smile and pat her head.

“Really.”

The three of you wander the market for a little while longer, before you notice Minho’s daughter getting sleepy. Once she asks Minho to pick her up, he carries her on his back and she’s out cold within two minutes. He laughs at the snoring toddler, and looks down at the ground before he looks at you. “Did you mean it?” he asks, and you feel your heart explode when you look into his eyes. “About liking me, did you really mean it?” He repeats, and you can’t bring yourself to hide the truth anymore. “Mhm, I did mean it.” You say quietly. His smile brightens ten fold, and if he wasn’t hauling a sleeping child on his back, he would’ve taken your hand. “Well in that case, would it be out of pocket to ask you over for dinner this weekend? She’s going to a slumber party at Seungmin’s house, so we can have an actual conversation,” he asks sheepishly.

“I would love that.”

__________

The rest of the week flies by, and you can feel the nerves gathering in your stomach as you arrive at Minho’s house. Walking inside, it’s exactly how you could imagine it to be. It’s cozy, and you can definitely tell that a toddler lives there. Toys are in the living room corner, stacked neatly next to a two story dollhouse. Sippy cups align the kitchen sink, and you see cat shaped sandwich cutters sitting in the dish drainer. The sight makes you smile, as you remember cooing over the cute shapes at lunch time.

Minho looks absolutely stunning, you think to yourself. He’s dressed casually, but his button down shirt makes his shoulders look broad and the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows makes your knees feel weak. He greets you with a warm smile and a small hug, leading you into the kitchen. He really pulled out all the stops for this– candles at the center of the dining table, two glasses with red wine sitting next to empty plates as he brings the food to the table. “Wow, this looks amazing,” you tell him as you take a seat across from him, sipping your wine. “Thank you, I really hope you like it,” he laughs.

Dinner goes well, just as you expected it to. The two of you never run out of things to talk about, and the wine is definitely helping the two of you loosen up a little bit. Once dinner is over, you insist that you help with the dishes. Minho tries to decline, but you bump him out of the way with your hip, picking up a towel to dry the clean dishes with. He laughs and mimics the action, except his arm wraps around your waist in an attempt to catch you if you fall over. You feel electricity shoot through you at the action, and you turn to face him as you laugh.

He doesn’t let go, and the look in his eyes has you dropping your towel onto the kitchen counter. The air in the room feels charged, and you can’t help but reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. Everything just felt natural, with him. Like you were supposed to be this way all along. His other hand drops the dish he was holding into the sink, and he decides to wrap it around your waist instead. The feeling of finally being encapsulated in his arms makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

The two of you stay like that, for just a moment longer. It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, tightening his hold on you. “Is it..is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks softly. The action is so sweet, you smile as you pull him closer to you. “Please,” you ask, right before his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is soft, slow, everything you could have wanted. His lips still taste like the wine you’ve been drinking, and it makes you want to deepen the kiss. So you do.

Minho feels your tongue at his lips, and he immediately grants you entrance but quickly gains dominance over you. A hand of his moves from your waist up into your hair as he pushes you into the kitchen counter. Your hands roam his body, his broad shoulders and toned arms feeling like heaven under your fingertips. When your hands find his hair, you tug on it slightly and that’s enough to prompt Minho to lift you onto the counter. He’s standing between your legs, his hands falling to your hips once again. He traces light circles into the skin under your sweater as you start trailing kisses down his neck.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” you say breathily, and it makes Minho chuckle. “You really want this?” He asks, confirming that it’s okay for him to take it further. “I want all of it.” You say while looking him in the eyes. They darken, and you can tell that you’ve just awoken something inside the man. His hands bunch under your shirt, slowly lifting it up to reveal the royal purple bra that you were wearing. Thanking god that you chose a matching set, you take the initiative to take your sweater off the rest of the way, throwing it on a chair near the table.

Minho wastes no time attacking your neck, biting marks near your collarbone and trailing them down towards your breast. He takes one in his hands, feeling the fabric underneath his hands and relishing in the quiet noises you’re making. His fingers ghost over your nipples, the texture of the fabric bringing you an added sensation. You subconsciously move your hips against his, feeling how hard he is through his jeans. Minho sighs, and the sound is music to your ears. You continue to move your hips against his, and Minho quickly grabs the back of your legs. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?” he teases, telling you to hold on as he picks you up and takes you in the direction of his bedroom. His lips never leave your neck, at least not until he has you lying comfortably on top of the pillows on his bead. The look in his eyes is almost primal, and it mirrors every feeling that is running through your body in the moment.

You sit up quickly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as you kiss each inch of exposed skin. Minho helps you as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, and you take in the sight of the gorgeous man sitting in front of you. You look down to his jeans and then back into his eyes, as if asking for permission. He grabs your hand and guides it to his belt, and that’s a sure fire sign that you can continue.

You expertly undo his jeans, pulling the zipper down with your teeth in a teasing way. “Fuck, baby,” he says at the sight, and his little praise just spurs you on. You move him to sit on the edge of the bed, and you sink to your knees in front of him as you pull down his jeans. His cock is something to behold– the perfect size, pink and standing at attention. Tempting. You grab the base in your hand, and bring your tongue out to lick at the head. Minho melts into your touch, his fingers going to your hair instantly. You begin slowly, sucking on the head and using your hand to stroke the rest of his cock. It’s taking every ounce of self control from Minho to not fuck into your mouth, wanting to savor the first of hopefully many encounters with you.

You look so gorgeous on your knees for him, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you begin to sink lower onto his cock. He can feel your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein and making sure to swirl your tongue at his head with each pass you make. If you keep this up, he’s going to cum fast.

“As much as I enjoy the feeling of your pretty little mouth, baby, I don’t want to cum inside it this time.” He says, pulling you back up onto the bed. You feel excitement rise in your chest at the idea of a “next time”. You giggle as he hovers over you, pulling you into another kiss. He can taste you on his tongue, and there’s something so inherently dirty about it that makes him impatient.

He starts working on your jeans, undoing the buttons with ease and sliding them down your legs. He stares at the matching purple underwear that you’re in, and he chuckles darkly. “Seems like someone had something certain on their mind when getting dressed today, huh love?” He teases, tracing slow circles over your clit in a teasing way. “I-I don’t know what you mean,” you say as you try to keep your noises to a minimum. He’s going at a pace that is way too slow for your liking, but you’re not ready to beg for it. At least not yet.

“Hm? Feigning innocence now are we? That’s not very nice of you, baby. Tell me, what were you thinking when you put this on today, hm? Were you thinking that I’d take you like a good girl tonight?” He asks. His eyes never leave yours, and you try your hardest to keep your voice level. “Maybe,” you tease, and his pace quickens for just a moment, just enough to have you keening, but then he returns to the torturously slow pace. “Trying to be a brat, are we? Don’t worry, I can have that attitude fixed in no time,” he warns. You want to test him, see how far he’ll go. “Really? I don’t see you doing anything about it,” you fight back.

Bad idea.

Before you can even blink, your underwear are ripped off and thrown across the room, and Minho’s hand is now around your throat. The sweet feeling of the air leaving your lungs has you dizzy, not able to form coherent words. “Oh? Where’s that mouth of yours now huh?” He says, his tone condescending. His fingers return to your core, but this time his pace is rough and fast. You try to move, but the grip on your neck is tight. “Tell me what you want, love. Use your words,” he says. He decides to loosen his grip to let you speak.

“Please, Minho God just-just fuck me,” you finally speak out, voice shaky as your high is quickly approaching you. “That’s all the permission I need, baby doll.” He laughs as he pulls you closer to him. Reaching down, Minho grabs his cock in his hands and runs the head up and down your labia, teasing you before giving you the real thing. “You’re so wet, this is all for me right? I’m the only one who makes you feel like this?” He asks, knowing that you’re slowly losing your cool.

“Yes! Yes it’s only fo- only for you, Minho please” you beg, and it quickly turns into a moan as he enters you. Your back arches, and a low groan comes from Minho’s throat as he feels how tight you are around him. He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, but once you rock your hips into him even a little, he sets off at a steady pace. The feeling is euphoric, he’s stretching you in just the right places and somehow knows exactly how to make you see stars.

He’s panting, and when you whine a quiet “Harder, please,” he loses all control. Slamming into you quickly, he brings his hand back to your throat. “You’re so perfect for me, baby. Jesus. Only for me,” he says over and over again. He’s leaned close to you now, mouth against your ear and you can hear every ounce of praise that comes from his mouth. Your high is approaching, and you clench around Minho when he starts drawing fast circles on your clit once again.

“Minho I- I’m so close, please make me cum,” you moan, and with a certain swivel of his hips he’s hitting a spot that’s making you see stars. “Cum for me then, baby. Let me feel you,” he says, quickening his pace once again, so fast you didn’t think it was possible.

The only sounds in the room are skin slapping and your labored breathing, moans loud as you finally feel the knot in your core tighten and then burst. His name leaves your lips in a long, drawn out whine, and you feel him fill you up not long after your orgasm starts wearing off. He’s panting in your ear, grip tightening around your throat once again as you feel him spill into you.

Riding out both of your highs, Minho’s thrusts slowly come to a stop. The two of you lay there, basking in the glow of the events that just unfolded. You stay like that for a few minutes, and then Minho gets up to run the shower, placing a kiss on your forehead as he leaves the bedroom.

You end up going for another round in the shower, and then straight to bed as the two of you are too worn out to do anything else.

You wake up the next morning in one of his tshirts, and you can smell pancakes being made in the kitchen. You look over and realize that Minho is no longer next to you, and you smile as you hear the radio playing and a sweet voice singing along.

Aware that his daughter could be coming home at any minute, you throw your own jeans on as you walk into the kitchen, Minho’s shirt still falling off your shoulder. Quietly padding behind him, he jumps as you wrap your arms around his waist. “Good morning,” you giggle, and he quickly turns to place a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning to you too, doll.” He says. The name brings back memories of last night and you feel a blush on your cheeks.

You help him finish making pancakes, and when the front door opens, you hear little feet making their way to the kitchen, followed by the sound of Seungmin’s voice. “Hey, Minho I figured I’d stop in and say hi since I’m dropping off your- oh. Hello.” Seungmin says as he sees you at the counter with said man. “Hi,” you say quietly, giggling at his expression.

 “Y/N!!!!!!!!!!” you hear from behind him. You lean over and see Minho’s daughter coming at you full force. You quickly scoop her up into your arms, spinning her around as her bright laugh fills the room. It makes Minho’s heart explode, and he immediately feels embarrassed as he looks over at Seungmin. “I’m not judging, good for you bro.” The younger man says, sticking out his fist for Minho to bump. He laughs, but does it anyway, his attention turning back to your and his daughter.

“Are you here to have breakfast with us?!?! Daddy makes the best pancakes!!” The girl exclaims, and you laugh as you look over to Minho, sharing a secret glance.

“I sure am, sweetheart.”  

   ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

@dom--minnie @sparklemin @minholuvs @hanflix @moonlit-lixie @feliix

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #bxngchxn fics

[teshamerkel]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 24] (31 Pages)

<< First | < Previous | Next >

Will lays out the current state of the The Humans Movement, and our trio finally attends the long-awaited magic show!

-

“Welcome, everyone! To the first meeting of The Humans Movement!”

Nia perks up at Will’s words, and another wave of cheering and excited murmuring erupts from the crowd around them.

“What a warm reception!” Will says, smiling. The crowd bubbles with laughter. “Thank you everyone for coming to join us today. I never expected such a great turnout for our first meeting! For years I’ve wanted to unite the humans who have found themselves here in the Pokemon world, and as we can all see there are a great number of us now. Even more out in the world who couldn’t join us today! And as you likely know, my goal is to lead every single one of us back home.”

Nia has to stop herself from squeezing the rookidee in her lap, already feeling the tingle of tears building behind her eyes. This is it. This is how she’ll get back to everyone she left behind.

“Now,” Will says, with a clap of his hands. Even in the large space it seems loud, and it’s only then that Nia realizes how quiet everyone has grown, eagerly listening to the yamask speak. “While we’re still figuring out many of the details, I’m more than happy to share what we know so far about our situation. I’m sure most of you have wondered time and again how in the world this all happened. How did we go from regular, everyday people to living in a world entirely different from our own? And as unbelievable, magical creatures with fantastic powers, too!”

There’s a quiet muttering of agreement from the crowd, and Nia finds herself nodding along. Some days she wakes up and still can’t believe all of this is really happening. Pokemon, magic powers, stuck in a world entirely different from her own.

“While we are still in the process of figuring out exactly how we came to this world, we are positive that both our transfer to this world and our change in form is the work of a Pokemon.”

The crowd’s volume rises again, and Will raises his hands to calm the noise. “Everyone here has seen the amazing powers that Pokemon wield, and even the Pokemon themselves do not know the full extent of every individual’s abilities. Only a powerful Pokemon—or multiple Pokemon—could change the laws of nature itself and turn us into creatures so foreign to humankind.”

Nia frowns. Well, when it’s said like that it seems sort of obvious, but all of the Pokemon she’s spoken to so far have seem just as baffled by humans showing up in the Pokemon world as the humans themselves.

“While this may seem surprising,” Will continues. “We believe such an extraordinary power could only be held by the legendary Pokemon of this world. All accounts agree that these legendary beings had control over elements as great as time itself, that they held power over space and sky and sea. We are confident that the power of a legendary is the only one great enough to shift reality so completely.”

“But I thought the legendaries were dormant?” Someone shouts off to their right.

Will nods. “As far as most are concerned, they are. However, we have reason to believe that some legendary Pokemon are still active, and simply staying out of sight from the public.”

A nervous hush falls over the room, and Nia hugs Junie closer to herself. A legendary is the reason they all changed into Pokemon, and now they’re hiding away from everyone? But why? Didn’t they used to be, like…deities? Gods? Why would they be in hiding?

What would they be hiding from?

“Legendary Pokemon haven’t been seen for decades,” Tobias protests loudly to Nia’s left, standing to catch Will’s attention. Nia shrinks away from the hundreds of eyes that turn their way. “Even if they are hiding, what makes you think that they’re behind this? Why would they even want to bring humans to our world?”

Will nods, slowly, but doesn’t seem bothered by Tobias’ aggressive tone. “Yes, while it seems like an odd choice for such powerful beings to make, unfortunately we do have a…suspicion. As to why this might be the case. Keep in mind it’s just a theory for now, but we have very good reason to believe it a valid concern.”

Tobias grudgingly flops into his seat to listen, and the crowd falls into a tense silence.

“It is not a concern about all of the legendary Pokemon so much as it is about one in particular. There is a legendary,” Will pauses, almost hesitant. “Who is rarely spoken of, even among the Pokemon of this world: Giratina.”

Nia’s head snaps up, and she exchanges a look with Tobias. Giratina? The terrifying Pokemon they’d discussed with Fliss the day before?

“Giratina was once a revered legendary Pokemon,” Will explains, echoing the braviary’s words. “A guardian over the borders between different dimensions. Different worlds. But he was banished to the dimensional rift, his own realm, for violently attacking another legendary. He was the guardian of this world’s borders, and as such we believe that he guarded the Pokemon world from the human world as well. According to stories he still resides in the limbo between dimensions, fighting to escape and enact his revenge. As such, we suspect that he may be behind both the disappearance of the other legendaries as well as the appearance of humans in the Pokemon world.”

The crowd explodes into a babble of sound as Pokemon call out worried questions and turn to each other with fearful expressions. Nia frowns and watches Will patiently wait out the wave. She’d suggested something similar to Will’s theory on the flight to Ghatha, but she hadn’t actually thought it could be related to how they got here, or how they would return home. Could Giratina really be behind everything?

Eventually, Will once again raises his hands for silence. The noise slowly dies down.

“I don’t tell you this to alarm you,” Will says, tone soothing. “But just as a precaution. Giratina may be hoping to bring over enough humans to somehow weaken the barriers and his own curse so he can break free once again. We know very little for certain, but we do know that he cannot be trusted. Over the years, a few humans have reported glimpsing a large creature with red eyes following them through reflections—in water, in moonstone and metal and other reflective surfaces. Reflections are Giratina’s one window into our world. We suspect that he is attempting to contact humans, hoping to persuade them into helping him. Do not listen to him.”

Nia holds Junie closer, staring up at Will with wide eyes. Being stalked by an evil deity through reflections? That’s something straight out of a horror movie!

“Can he hurt us?” Someone calls, voice high with panic.

“We don’t believe he can physically touch someone through reflections, no,” Will responds. “The few reports we’ve gathered have only spoken of him watching the humans or, even more rarely, attempting to speak with them. We advise that if this happens to you, you leave the area of the reflective surface as soon as possible and contact me to let me know about the situation.”

Will’s assurance seems to soothe the worst of the crowd’s fear, and Nia slumps in her seat, relieved.

“However,” Will says, smiling once again. “While Giratina himself is certainly not on our side, he may still help us out regardless. I have been assembling a team, made up of both humans and Pokemon, in order to find a way back to the human world, and they suspect that if Giratina could find a way to bring us here, he may be the key to finding our way back.”

“That makes sense,” Nia whispers, exchanging a hopeful look with Junie.

The murmuring has picked up again, but noticeably lighter in tone this time. After a few moments, someone closer to the front of the crowd raises a hesitant arm—tentacle?—and Will nods at them with an encouraging smile. They say something too quiet to hear.

“Ah, yes,” Will says, loud enough to catch the room’s attention once again. “The issue of everyone’s missing memories.”

Nia straightens up.

“Unfortunately, there doesn’t appear to be a foolproof method for recovering them,” Will says. “And considering that it’s a consistent issue for every human who shows up in the Pokemon world, we believe it to be a purposeful choice. Perhaps Giratina thinks taking away everyone’s memories would make them more susceptible to trusting him or helping him in some way.”

Nia feels a spark of anger light in her belly. Taking something as precious as their memories just to try and manipulate them is a special kind of low.

“Regardless,” Will continues, “While some humans have regained their memories over time, there doesn’t appear to be a reliable method for recovering them. We’re hopeful that they will either return to everyone with time as we figure out how to return home, or that our eventual return to the human world will reverse the process.”

“How long will it take before we can go back to our world?” Someone yells from the back of the auditorium.

Will shoots a sympathetic look in that direction. “While we believe we are well on our way to finding the answer, it will still take some time. I ask for your patience as we figure everything out. I know it’s hard, and many of us are still feeling far too alone in this strange place, far from home—”

There’s a dip in the mood of the room as everyone shifts and nods quietly at his words.

“—But that is part of the reason I wanted to form an organization for us humans,” Will continues. “While this is all confusing and at times frightening, it helps to have fellow humans around who understand. This way, everyone can know that they are not alone. We are new to this world, but as our numbers grow, so does our strength.”

Will pauses, something in his expression growing darker. “Even when the Pokemon of this world turn on us, we will always have each other. I’m sure you have all been made aware that humans have become a source of blame for the problems of this world.”

Nia frowns, glancing again at Tobias as August and Maggie’s words come back to her. She hasn’t really dealt with any harassment or blame in Bethoc’s Haven, but from the way that the Pokemon around her shift and wince, some even making angry growls of agreement, she’s the outlier here.

“While this region has been less affected by natural disasters,” Will says, floating across the stage as if pacing slowly from one end to the other. “The entire world is clearly being affected by something, regardless. Along with floods and earthquakes and droughts, there is the increasing number of mystery dungeons, the silence from the Pokemon legends, and everyone’s inability to evolve. The Pokemon who were born here are scared because of these changes. We, too, are a change—a strange group that began to show up just as these problems surfaced.”

“However,” Will continues, voice hard as steel. “Remember that none of this is our fault. Could we truly cause such widespread issues, when we didn’t even ask to be brought here in the first place?”

The crowd reacts to Will’s tone, many of them shaking their heads while a couple of Pokemon shout loudly at the stage. Will takes a visible, deep breath, and the crowd quiets to listen to his next words.

“We are not to blame,” Will repeats, softer. “We simply want to go home. However, until that can become a reality, I want to make sure every human has a place they can feel safe, somewhere they can call home. To accomplish this, I will be opening my own home here in the Pokemon world to all humans. If you have nowhere else to go, you will be free to join me and the others living and working at my side in our little community. You are not required to come, of course, but I don’t want any human to feel unsafe or alone if I can help it.”

Nia smiles, even more warmed by Will’s compassion than she was before. For a moment she imagines going to this community herself, being surrounded by other humans like Junie and Will and maybe even helping them find a way back home. But…

Nia glances at Tobias. The charmander is watching the yamask with a furrowed brow, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Despite how annoyingly cynical he can be, she still committed to being Tobias’ partner while she’s in this world. Besides, she enjoys her job and all of the Pokemon at the Lexym Guild; she doesn’t want to leave them quite yet. She can just go visit Will and his group later on!

“However, for those of you who already have obligations or somewhere to stay, we are also creating a mailing list to send out updates and important information,” Will adds.

Nia perks up. Oh, she’s definitely signing up for that!

“The booths will still be running in the main hall for a while yet,” Will continues, “But there will be a new table set up in the center of the room once we are finished here. Go there to get the location of the open community or to sign up for our mailing list, where we will keep you updated on the developments in our research as well as with resources and news regarding The Humans Movement.”

The chatter in the room picks up again, excited this time, and Junie leans back to ask Nia, “You signing up for that?”

“Yup!”

Junie nods, smiling. “Then I will too! I like to stay in the loop on things.”

Tobias snorts, still watching Will like the ghost Pokemon will start attacking them at any second.

“You’re still suspicious of him?” Nia asks, exasperated.

“If anything, I trust him less,” Tobias grumbles.

“Why?” Junie chirps, sounding genuinely curious.

Tobias is silent for a few moments. Then, he shrugs. “He just…feels a bit too put-together. And he’s still being vague, too. Something about him just feels off.”

“Oh, that’ll hold up in court,” Nia mumbles. Tobias shoots her a glare while Junie giggles.

“I do have one more announcement to make before letting you all go back to the main hall,” Will calls with another clap of his hands. Slowly, the room quiets to listen.

The yamask’s smile is excited now. “I’m sure many of you have heard of the performance being put on in the plaza later this evening by The Fire Breathers. They’re an amazing magic and performance troupe, and just what we could all use after such a long, stressful day. I spoke with them the other night, and they were kind enough to offer a free, private showing beforehand for the members of The Humans Movement right here in the Convention Center!”

There’s an excited burst of applause and cheering at that.

Nia joins them. “Now we won’t even have to pay to see them!”

“At least he did something helpful,” Tobias grumbles.

Junie laughs and joins in on the cheering while Nia just rolls her eyes with a smile. Between Will’s confident reassurance regarding their eventual return to the human world and this news about the magic show, she’s on cloud nine! Even Tobias’ usual grouchiness can’t put a damper on her mood.

Will raises his hands for quiet, and the noise dies down to a low, eager clamor.

“The show will be held in this very room,” The yamask says, looking pleased by the crowd’s excitement. “Just as the sun begins to set in an hour or so. Until then, feel free to visit any booths you missed before, enjoy the delicious food, or even step outside for some fresh air! Just be sure to grab a tag from Nero out front so he knows to let you back in. He’s the large, purple nidoking you may have seen on your way in.”

At that, Will bows and turns to leave the stage, and the room fills with chatter again as Pokemon stand, stretch, and turn to make their way out of the room and back into the hall.

“C’mon, we need to sign up for the newsletter before the line gets too long!” Nia says, hurrying their trio into the flow of the crowd. “I don’t want to miss out on the new developments down the road.”

“Like he’ll have any,” Tobias growls. “He still didn’t give you guys any solid answers.”

“Just because he doesn’t have the answers yet doesn’t mean he won’t later on,” Nia counters, giving Tobias a frown. “He’s doing more than anyone else is to get us all home! And he sounded like he was pretty confident about it, too.”

Tobias makes a doubtful noise in his throat that Nia pointedly ignores in favor of leading them to the table Will mentioned to sign up for the mailing list. She’s getting better at writing in the Pokemon language, and writes Nia the Riolu in wobbly but mostly-readable handwriting. After that, she sheepishly hands the stick of graphite over to Tobias so he can write down the Lexym guild’s location without it taking ten minutes. Junie’s own handwriting isn’t much better, considering she’s writing with her beak and tiny feet. From there, the three of them make their way back into the main hall, then pause.

“I think we got to all of the booths,” Nia says, looking around. “What did you guys want to do until the magic show?”

“I’m going outside,” Tobias growls immediately, shifting away from a brown mule-like Pokemon crowding into his bubble of personal space. “Can’t even breathe in here.”

“Fresh air sounds nice,” Nia agrees, while Junie chirps her agreement and hops onto the riolu’s shoulder.

The three of them weave their way back to the entrance, out the front door and back into the late-afternoon sun. The warmth on her face is nice combined with the cool, salty air, and Nia smiles as she tilts her face up with a deep breath. When she opens her eyes, blinking against the brightness, Tobias is already speaking with the giant purple Pokemon guarding the doorway—a nidoking, Will said—and accepting three little tags that must be their ticket back into the Convention Center. Tobias rejoins them, handing over the tickets, and Nia takes hers with a word of thanks.

“It’s pretty busy out here, too,” Nia notes, looking out over the marketplace that’s been set up. It’s just as busy as it was when they arrived earlier in the day, with Pokemon moving between stalls, talking and snacking as they shop amongst the merchants. “Might be a good time to check everything out, though.”

“You can go buy cheap junk if you want to,” Tobias snorts. “I’ve had enough interaction for the next year.”

With that, the charmander turns back to the Convention Center, plopping down against the side of the towering building. His tail flame is bright against the heavy shade cast there. Nia can’t really blame him for being done socializing for the day and needing a break. Even she’s kind of exhausted, and she loves talking to people!

Nia hums, watching the charmander settle in for what looks like a short nap. “What do you want to do, Junie? You wanna rest with Tobias, or—”

“Let’s go check out the wares!” Junie trills, jumping atop Nia’s head and pointing a wing out towards the tents and crowd. “I wanna do some browsing without grumpy-pants tailing us.”

Nia laughs, calls out to Tobias that they’ll be back soon, and moves into the crowd to explore.

__________________________________________________

“Ugh,” Nia groans, flopping back into the cool, concrete seating of the auditorium. “I’m exhausted.” Junie chirps an agreement and collapses into a pile of feathers at her side.

Tobias snorts, taking his own seat on Nia’s other side. “Should’ve taken a break instead of traipsing around in the sun for so long.”

“But everyone was selling such cool stuff!” Nia protests weakly, slowly acclimating to the cooler air of the auditorium. “I had to see it.”

“And now you’re a useless lump,” Tobias drawls.

“It’s not like we’re going to be doing anything,” Nia laughs, sitting up and looking around as more Pokemon—the humans—file into the auditorium where Will spoke to them earlier. “We’re here for a magic show! Our only job is to watch, enjoy, and try to figure out how they do their tricks!”

Junie laughs. “They’re Pokemon—they already have magic powers. I don’t know how many ‘tricks’ there’ll really be.”

“I’ve heard they’re pretty good,” Tobias says. He sounds nonchalant, but Nia can tell his eyes are brighter than usual, shoulders relaxed as he scans the stage. He’s excited for this too.

The riolu smiles and idly looks around the room again. It’s darker than it was earlier, the harsh sunlight that had flooded the stage from the ceiling now a dim, evening dusk that leaves everything a bit hard to see outside of Tobias’ tail light. Nia feels soothed by the dark space and the fresh, clean scent of the foliage lining the walls and ceiling of the room.

Before Nia can ask if they’ll have something to illuminate the stage, like the guild’s glowing crystals, little wisps of flame suddenly flicker into existence around the outer floor of the stage, catching everyone’s attention. They hover in place like little fairy lights, a variety of different colors, and Nia sits up with an awestruck gasp.

“Are they starting?!” Nia whispers.

Tobias, leaning forward in his seat and not even bothering to hide his enthusiasm anymore, grins. “Must be.”

As they watch, the colorful wisps of fire dart into the middle of the stage, converging into one colorful pillar of flame and growing, growing growing until it’s a tall plume of twisting light.

“Whoa!” Junie breathes.

As quickly as the flames gathered, they vanish, leaving behind a cloud of embers and, at their heart, a Pokemon. It’s a tall, bipedal fox, standing in place with his arms held high, twin branches held in his hands, their ends alight in orange flame. The fox looks completely at home among the fire, fur patterned in warm yellows and oranges and reds and hanging around his frame in long tufts that almost look like a cloak.

“Good evening, and welcome to the show!” The fox calls, a bright, toothy grin on his face. The stunned crowd explodes into applause and cheers, and he bows low, branches sweeping around with an arc of flame. “I, the great Hugo, will be guiding the show for you tonight. Everyone sit back, relax, and enjoy the magic!”

With that, Hugo sweeps his arm forward, a cloak of flame enclosing him before vanishing entirely and taking him with it, only a few embers lingering in the air where he stood. Some of the crowd cries out in astonishment as everything goes dark.

A moment later, two fireballs ignite on either side of the stage, hovering in place a few feet off the stone ground. From somewhere around the back of the stage, what sounds like a violin begins to play a jaunty tune. To Nia’s astonishment, the fireballs start to float and move with the song, circling through the air in graceful, synchronized movements. As the tempo of the song picks up, the fire balls seem to stretch, long tails of flame trailing behind them until they’re moving like great, fiery dragons. They weave through and around each other, and then more fireballs light up along the stage—blue ones, purple ones, even green ones—before joining the first flames in a graceful dance.

Nia holds her breath, feeling goosebumps rise on her arms as she watches the colorful streams of fire cross and weave amongst one another to the music, creating a shimmering, shifting tapestry of color and sound.

Nia has never been particularly afraid of fire, but she doesn’t think she’s ever thought of it as beautiful, either. She usually thinks of fire as destructive, as an attack to be wielded by her aggressive partner, but technically Tobias could make flames like this, too, right? He probably couldn’t manipulate them, but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t be pretty! The purple flames of his dragon rage attack come to mind, even richer in color than the purple fire on-stage, and Nia spares a quick glance at Tobias.

The charmander looks entranced by the show, the colorful light of the flames playing across his face and shining in his eyes. He somehow looks much younger than usual, eyes wide with wonder and a small, awed smile on his face. Nia smiles too, chest warming with contentment. Happy is a good look on her grumpy partner.

Nia turns back to the show, eagerly watching as actual Pokemon make their first appearance. Illuminated by the colorful flames, two groups of floating Pokemon drift onstage in a dance of their own—some of them look like literal candles and lanterns with lovely purple flames and glowing golden eyes, and the others are round, pink Pokemon with purple patterns and long, trailing streams of pink mist that add an ethereal quality to their movements. The Pokemon weave between the flames, completely unafraid as they glow with what Nia guesses is psychic energy, dipping and spinning alongside the music.

It has to be difficult to keep such precise control over the flames, or even just to keep pace in a routine with so many small, intricate movements, but all of the Pokemon on stage clearly have a masterful control over their art, moving with confident, fluid motions as the fire twists and flares in graceful patterns.

Then, almost too suddenly, the Pokemon dip towards the edges of the stage and the fire vanishes with a flash, leaving the crowd in darkness once more. Before anyone can begin to applaud or cheer, flames light up the stage again, a ball of fire falling from above and bursting apart on impact. In its place stands a group of Pokemon arranged in a pyramid formation. Most of the crew seems to be made up of fiery cat-like Pokemon—little brown lions with red tufts of hair and bulkier striped cats with burning-bright bells at their necks—but the Pokemon on top is a cute white rabbit with orange-tipped feet and ears.

The pyramid disassembles in a series of impressive flips and rolls, and then the Pokemon themselves are leaping seamlessly through hoops of fire as they begin to move around stage. While they’re probably fire types and wouldn’t be too hurt by the flames, their movements are choreographed to be perfectly in sync, and they’re incredibly acrobatic as they leap and roll and springboard off one another to pull off increasingly complicated trick jumps.

As the movements increase in fervor, the crowd starts cheering and applauding, and Nia can’t help joining in on the excitement, whooping loudly as her heart pounds. The Pokemon onstage seem to move non-stop in a blur of color and fire, until suddenly, one by one, the pairs of Pokemon leap off the sides of the stage and the rings of fire all go out at once.

In the next beat, three round shapes roll on-stage, already lit aflame, before leaping up and revealing themselves to actually be Pokemon. Through the flames, Nia thinks they’re red, with orange markings around their faces, big grins, and stubby little limbs on their round bodies. The three are joined by a much larger Pokemon who looks like a possible evolution: the same red fur and giant grin, but with eyebrows made of flame and giant, powerful-looking arms.

The larger Pokemon scoops the smaller three up into the air. The crowd gasps as the three Pokemon hang for a moment, suspended like tiny suns, before falling back down. The larger Pokemon catches the first and second, then tosses one of them into the air once again before catching the third. Nia realizes the larger Pokemon is juggling the smaller, fiery creatures, anc can’t help but laugh, cracking up along with Junie and some other Pokemon in the crowd. The juggler is really good, too, keeping the little fireballs in a constant loop of motion.

In a blink, two other Pokemon stand on either side of the larger one, and the crowd murmurs excitedly at their sudden appearance. Both of them are fiery-looking monkeys, and in their hands they hold smaller fireballs. They too start to juggle, and when the smaller fireballs unravel in the air to pose for the crowd, Nia falls back into her giggle fit. The little fireballs are curled-up centipedes?

It only gets crazier from there as the Pokemon begin to juggle between each other, and then even more so when some of the Pokemon being used as props seem to vanish in thin air before shooting back into the fray from somewhere else off-stage.

“Teleport, you think?” Nia leans over and whispers to Tobias, eyes still glued to the performance. “Wait, can they even learn teleport?”

Tobias gives her a look, probably for trying to “solve” the logic behind the magic, but answers, “Maybe the psychic Pokemon from before?”

“Ooh, good point! Or maybe they’re just extinguishing their flames so we can’t see them in the dark?”

Tobias makes a noncommittal hum in response, clearly too invested in the show itself, and Nia happily goes back to watching and theorizing on her own.

Once that group moves off the stage in an impressive disappearing act (“Definitely teleport,” Tobias whispers), two Pokemon that look to be made of pure fire roll onto the stage before popping back up in a cloud of flame. They have duck-like beaks and a funny, amorphous appearance that Nia vaguely recognizes from one of her readings. They’re called…magmar, she thinks? Something like that!

The two of them engage in a mock-fight with impressive bursts of flame, dodging around one another in something more like a dance than a spar, and once the flames begin moving around in liquid-like motions, exploding in flashy, colorful bursts, it’s clear the “magic” from the beginning of the show is at work again. It’s beautiful, but Nia still can’t quite help trying to figure out how they’re doing it. Clearly the psychic Pokemon are helping—do they have some way to change the flames’ colors too, or do different Pokemon naturally have different colors of fire? Is it a temperature thing? Why—

The Pokemon on-stage suddenly stagger in the middle of their practiced routine, casting the room into near-darkness once again and snagging Nia’s attention. The two magmar seem alarmed as they turn to look at something on the side of the room. Nia follows their gaze, confused, only to see that a small patch of the foliage lining the walls has caught fire, just a tiny candle’s worth of flame. The audience, most of them craning to see as well, breaks into a low murmur of sound.

Nia frowns, shifting nervously in her seat and glancing back at the two Pokemon on stage, who she can only see due to their glowing skin. Is…Is this part of the routine? Another trick? But no, the two magmar look just as uncertain as the rest of the auditorium, frozen in place like this has never happened before.

The fire grows bright enough in the corner of Nia’s eye that she whips around to stare at it again, her stomach sinking. The flame is slowly starting to spread to neighboring plants.

“Something’s wrong,” Tobias whispers.

Nia glances at him, unease churning in her stomach once she sees the stricken look on his face. “Y-You think so?”

“Something’s wrong,” He repeats, louder, standing.

The fire seems to flare, then, growing larger as it truly catches and ignites. The crowd shrieks, some of them scrambling from their seats. Nia watches the flames, stunned, as they spread at an incredible speed, changing from a candleflame to a wall of fire in a matter of seconds.

The crowd is starting to panic, shouting out alarmed questions and cries, and a quick glance at the stage shows that the performers aren’t much better, scrambling around and looking to each other for what to do.

This definitely isn’t part of the act.

“Everyone, don’t panic!” Hugo’s voice rings out.

Nia feels relieved for a heartbeat, until she sees the fox himself. He has a good stage face and is holding his paws up in a calming gesture, but this close to the stage Nia can see the tension in his frame, the way his eyes flick to the wall and then the exits.

“Move calmly towards the exits, please, and head back out to the plaza,” Hugo calls. “We will try to contain the flames here and—”

The fire crackles, jumping and putting on a burst of speed as it connects to the wooden bits of the ceiling and spreads like fire on an oil spill, engulfing half the room in heat and light.

The crowd surges with fear.

Hugo is yelling something to his performers, the audience is screaming and yelling and shoving as they scramble for the doors, and Tobias grabs Nia’s arm, dragging her with him towards the nearest aisle leading to the exit. They’re jostled by the frantic crowd, and Nia squeezes Junie tighter to her chest as Tobias snarls and forces his way forward, making a path for them. Something heavy slams into Nia from the side, and she’s shoved to the ground. Junie falls from her arms and tumbles away among the forest of legs.

“Junie!” Nia yells, moving forward to follow before a panicked Pokemon accidentally kicks her, sending her rolling back with a yelp. Another foot steps on her tail, and just as Nia thinks she’s going to get trampled, a familiar warm hand grabs her arm and yanks her to her feet.

“Tobias!” Nia gasps. “I lost Junie!”

“No time to find her!” Tobias growls, glancing up to where the fire has continued to spread, consuming a majority of the room and heating the air to an uncomfortable degree.

Nia doesn’t have time to argue as the crowd at her back moves the two of them forward and out into the hall, almost knocking them off their feet.

“Oh, you have to be kidding me!” Tobias snarls.

Nia feels her heart drop as she follows his gaze and sees that the fire has already managed to spread out here, too, and is moving to consume everything at a terrifying pace.

“Go!” Tobias snaps, shoving Nia in front of him to follow the flow of the loud, panicked crowd towards the front of the Convention Center. She glances over her shoulder, terrified that she’ll lose him, but he stays right on her heels.

Nia’s heart is pounding in her ears, adding a steady tempo to the shouting and the quiet roar of the flames spreading to the entirety of the main hall. It’s almost like it’s following them, herding them, and Nia feels weak with relief when she spots the doors to the plaza ahead of them, cool purple-gray evening light like a drink of water in the desert.

They barely manage to make it outside without getting trampled, staggering into blessedly cool, open air alongside the other escaping humans. The Pokemon who were shopping in the marketplace are all watching the frantic crowd of humans with stunned expressions and concerned calls.

Safely away from the building, Nia’s legs collapse under her. She takes deep breaths of the refreshing air, flexing her fingers against the stone underneath her to help ground herself.

“You okay?” Tobias asks, crouching in front of her.

Nia looks up at him, unable to speak. The charmander still seems tense himself, eyes a little too wild, but he’s clearly trying to keep a hold on his emotions. Oh, right, he’s waiting for an answer.

“I-I think so?” Nia rasps. Her gut and her tail hurt where she was kicked and stepped on, but she’s in one piece, even if she feels like she’s about to shake apart at the seams. “Y-You?”

Tobias nods, then looks past her, brow furrowing with something grave.

Nia turns as well, staring in horror at the building in front of her, already brimming with flames and lit bright against the evening sky. Nia isn’t sure how quickly fire spreads normally, but it almost seems to be moving at an unnatural rate, growing uncontrollably and eating away at the structure’s wood and stone with an unstoppable hunger. It can’t have been more than a minute or two since the fire began, but already the majority of the building seems thoroughly engulfed in flames. The structure that had seemed so solid during the day starts to sag and crumble. Near the doorway, a bit of the frame falls to the ground with a loud noise that makes Nia jump.

“I-Is Junie still in there?” Nia squeaks, looking desperately at Tobias as if he knows any more than she does. “What if she’s stuck? W-We got separated, and I don’t—I don’t know where she went!”

Tobias doesn’t answer, staring at the flames with a furrowed brow and clenched fists, eyes flicking back and forth with racing thoughts.

Nia swallows hard and turns back to the flames as her stomach sinks, unable to do anything but tremble as she watches the fire grow. Absently, she notices the murmuring of the crowd at her back, then jumps as a loud voice suddenly commands, “Everyone stand back!”

Nia thoughtlessly follows the voice’s direction, stumbling back to join the rest of the crowd. A moment later, a familiar form bounds past them and into view.

“Keegan?” Nia whispers.

The ninetales looks completely different from his carefree self the day before, standing tall with a sharp, serious expression on his face. A fierce-looking red crustacean Pokemon with a golden star at her crown and a stripe of blue at her mouth is at his side, turning to look at the crowd with just as much authority in her posture. 

A moment later, Nia notices the crowd of Pokemon stepping past her and the other civilians, lining up neatly in front of the two Pokemon. They all look strong, assessing the situation with calm expressions and confident stances. Some of them are clearly Seekers like her and Tobias, teams wearing similarly-colored scarves or bands, while the other half of the crowd all wear the same bright shade of yellow with a black drop of water imprinted on the fabric.

“Ghatha Guild, pair up with the fire rescue squad,” Keegan barks, fur gleaming gold in the light of the flames. “Buddy system, at least one water type required for each team. Report back to me or Audra any time you enter the structure or leave. First priority is finding any stragglers caught in the wreckage, second priority is to contain and douse the flames and minimize damage from the structure’s collapse. Clear?”

The crowd of Seekers—and fire rescue Pokemon, apparently—nod or call out their assent.

“Then get on it!” The crustacean, Audra, snaps, immediately turning to the burning building and beginning to fight the flames with powerful jets of water shooting from her claws.

The rest of the Pokemon jump into action with impressive speed, pairing up with minimal discussion. Some teams slip into the building itself through the gaps opening up in the walls. Some water types station themselves around the building where the flames are fighting to break free and move further into the plaza, dousing the fire with carefully-aimed streams of water.

Nia is relieved by the experienced groups of Pokemon tackling the problem, but she still feels like she can’t quite breathe right. Or maybe that this isn’t real, that she isn’t really here. She feels cold, despite the heat wafting off of the inferno in front of them. Numb, almost.

“How could this happen?” Nia whispers. “It...It was such a nice day.”

For a moment, Tobias doesn’t answer. Then, he takes their team bag off his shoulder, digging through it and pulling out his badge. He pins it to his scarf and pushes the satchel into Nia’s hands. “I’m going in too.”

“What?!” Nia whips around to stare at him. “Y-You can’t—”

“I’m a Seeker and a fire type,” Tobias retorts, eyeing the Seekers and rescuers still arranging themselves around the wreckage. “This is exactly what I signed up for.”

Nia latches onto his arm before he can run off, yanking him to a stop. “W-Wait! You can’t go in there! Sure, you’re a fire type, b-but the walls are caving in and, and—”

“Pokemon need help, Nia,” Tobias growls, pulling his arm free.

Nia tries not to let the panic overtake her completely. What if he gets hurt while she’s just sitting out here watching? And if it’s his job then isn’t it hers, too? What if Junie is still in there?

“Then I’m g-going too,” Nia says, her terrified voice making it more of a question than a statement.

Tobias is the one to look caught off-guard this time. “What? No you’re not. You don’t have the protection from fire that I do.”

“Some of the other Pokemon don’t either!” Nia bluffs, watching a Pokemon that may or may not be a fire type race by and dive through the flames wreathing the front door.

“But they know what they’re doing!” Tobias counters. “Look, I’m a low-level Seeker, but I have protection against the fire. I’m going. You are staying here so you don’t pass out from the heat.”

Nia whimpers, but can’t come up with a good enough argument against that. Tobias turns and runs up to Keegan, flashing his badge and saying something. The ninetales looks surprised, then pensive, as if unsure of whether he should agree to send the self-admitted newbie into such a dangerous situation. Nia’s heart lifts hopefully.

Then Audra snaps something to Keegan, and the ninetales looks torn. Finally, he sighs and says something to Tobias before running off. Tobias nods and dashes past the other rescuers and Seekers to run straight into the fire. Nia’s stomach turns as he vanishes into the flaming building.

“Please be okay,” she murmurs, voice cracking. Her heart is pounding, and all she can think of is Tobias getting crushed by the building slowly crumbling in front of her. Junie, trapped in the flames and choking on smoke. She worries the strap of their satchel between her shaking paws, almost tearing the fabric.

Minutes pass, and areas of the roof begin to cave in along with the walls, sending the Seekers and rescuers into a renewed flurry of activity. Nia paces in her place amongst the crowd, watching as the fire squad and the Seekers go in and out of the building with expert efficiency. Keegan is orchestrating the rescue effort with impressive control, directing the Seekers working underneath him and pointing out which areas to focus on next as well as receiving reports from the Pokemon who return.

Nia is only half-listening to the conversations around her, too busy stewing in her own fear, when she catches a snatch of conversation from the coughing, rocky Pokemon reporting to another rescuer to her right.

“Yeah, pretty sure it was a rookidee. Don’t know what happened to ‘em—one second they were there and then I lost ‘em again. Needed to get some air or I woulda passed out.”

Nia freezes, feeling like she might throw up as she stares at the rocky Pokemon, who hasn’t even noticed her. Their partner is reassuring them that the rookidee probably flew through an open gap in the roof, or another rescuer found them, but the rest of their words are drowned out by the blood roaring in Nia’s ears. 

A rookidee, still trapped inside. Nia hadn’t seen any other rookidee all day. Only Junie.

Junie can’t fly high enough to get out—especially if she’s injured. And she’s not a fire type, not resistant to flames like Tobias is. She’s small, painfully light and fragile.

She’s scared, probably. Terrified. What if she dies in there because Nia was too much of a coward to try to save her?

It’s that thought that solidifies Nia’s terror into something sharper. Something like determination.

Pokemon need help, Nia.

“S-Sorry, Tobias,” Nia murmurs, dropping their satchel to the ground and taking a deep, shaking breath. Then, she sprints towards the fiery wreckage before she can second-guess herself. She doesn’t even bother to grab her badge, instead slipping past the guards when they’re distracted by a large, hacking Pokemon stumbling from the building with a couple of unconscious Pokemon tucked under their arms.

The heat hits Nia in a wave as she ducks through a large gap in the crumbling wall, into what used to be the front hall of the building. Immediately her eyes are stinging dry, the ash sparking a coughing fit as she tries to breathe through the sheer heat. Fire roars and crackles around her in a painfully blinding forest of flames, making it hard to tell exactly where she is or where she’s going next. The building is slowly crumbling around her, heavy walls warping and falling apart.  The stone underfoot is hot, almost stinging against her paws.

Nia looks around through squinted eyes, untying the bandana from her arm and holding it to her mouth to try and filter the smoke somehow. Somewhere further in the building there’s a sudden rumble, loud enough to be heard through the roar of flames and distant yells of Pokemon. Nia recognizes it from earlier--another part of the roof must have caved in.

Nia moves further into the wreckage of the building, more quickly than she’d like to, but she doesn’t have the time to be thorough and careful when the building is already coming down. She just tries to keep her distance from the worst of the flames and the rubble.

The building, once easy to navigate, is a flaming, twisted shell of itself, a labyrinth of wreckage and dazzling light and flickering shadow. Is she still in the front hall, or did a wall fall down? She might be in the main hall, actually.

“Junie!” She shouts, cupping her hands around her mouth. Her following inhale triggers a coughing fit as she breathes in heat and smoke. Eyes squeezed shut as she struggles to breathe, she isn’t paying enough attention and cuts her leg on a particularly sharp piece of something—stone, or metal maybe. She bites back a pained cry, glaring at the offending rubble before moving forward again.

“Junie!” She shouts, her voice a weak, rasping thing cut off by another coughing fit. “Junie, are you in here?!”

The roar of the flames are her only answer, so Nia keeps moving. She scans the wreckage and shouts out the little bird’s name, feeling her heart sink a little more each time she gets no response. When a particularly harsh burst of flames brushes by her face, stinging against her skin, she pauses for a moment to try and get her bearings. Between the shimmering heat, the blinding spots of light every time she blinks, and the building being almost unrecognizable, Nia definitely isn’t sure which room she’s in anymore. Could she even find her way back out if she found Junie? She’s starting to feel lightheaded from the heat and smoke.

Shaking her head, Nia forces her feet forward. She thinks she hears someone shout, or glimpses movement aside from the flickering flames and wild shadows thrown over everything, but she doesn’t actually run into any Seekers. They must not spot her, small as she is.

If the Seekers don’t see Nia, what hope does she have for finding Junie? The little bird is smaller and darker than Nia herself, and if she was buried under any rubble—

Stop that, Nia commands herself, looking around a little more frantically. Junie’s fine. She has to be fine!

“Junie!”

No answer.

Nia takes a moment to rest the best she can among the smoke and fire, looking away from the blinding flames and up to the ceiling where a dark patch of sky can barely be seen through a hole in the roof. God, she would love to take a breath of fresh, cool air right now.

Nia staggers on her feet as another part of the building collapses somewhere nearby. She has to keep moving. She has to find her friend!

Nia pushes on, moving through what she thinks used to be a doorway, into another area. Her body is starting to feel heavy, but she tries to shake the dizziness from her vision and keep from stumbling over her own feet. She can’t pass out here. Not now. 

She glances up at a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye, expecting to find another shadow playing tricks on her, but it’s—

Junie.

For a moment Nia thinks she’s imagining the rookidee. Maybe she already passed out and now she’s dreaming. But she blinks—once, twice, three times, and she’s still there. The little bird is pinned to the ground by her leg, where a few giant chunks of stone from the roof must have fallen onto her. She’s fluttering weakly, trying to lift off and away from the rubble, but falls back to the ground with a pained cry that reaches Nia even through the roar of the fire.

“Junie,” Nia whispers. Then, shouting, she runs towards her friend. “Junie!”

Junie looks up, face filled with a raw, animalistic kind of terror that Nia’s never seen before. When the rookidee catches sight of Nia, she blinks rapidly like Nia did just a moment ago, as if she isn’t sure she can trust her eyes. Then, her expression pinches, like she wants to cry but isn’t sure if it’s out of relief or fear.

“N-Nia! What’re you doing here?!”

“I’m here to rescue you, o-of course!” Nia says with what she hopes is a reassuring smile. Its effect is ruined when she immediately starts coughing again.

“B-But you—” Junie stops, looking like she isn’t sure whether to be upset or not. Then she shakes her head. “Fine! Just, help me get my leg free, please! I’m stuck!”

“Right!” Nia moves to the stones holding the little bird down, managing to roll a few of the chunks of rubble away despite the way the hot stone bites at her hands. Almost immediately she’s panting, vision blurring the slightest bit more as the heat and exhaustion catches up to her. She stubbornly shakes her head, forcing her legs to hold her up as she moves the rubble.

She tries to move the largest chunk of stone, almost as big as her, pushing first with her hands, then with her whole body, grunting as it refuses to budge. She takes a moment to rest and breathe, but immediately chokes again on smoke and heat. Her knee buckles, and she barely catches herself before falling completely to the ground.

“Nia!” Junie shrieks, before falling into a coughing fit herself.

“Don’t talk,” Nia rasps.

“Nia, y-you...you can’t move it,” Junie says, voice breaking. “You have to go.”

Nia blinks slowly at Junie, not understanding. Go? She can’t go yet. Junie needs help. “I can’t leave you.”

Junie furiously shakes her head, and when she looks up again her eyes are shiny, like she’d be crying if the heat of the flames didn’t immediately dry her tears up. “You’re going to die here too if you don’t run, you idiot! Go!”

Nia growls in response, pushing herself back to her feet. She wobbles, but steadies herself on the stone. “I-I’m not—I’m not just leaving you here!”

Junie shrieks something else at Nia, but she tunes the little bird out. Her head aches, and it’s getting hard to focus. She pushes again at the stone, hoping that all of those stories about adrenaline were true and will give her the boost she needs. Her muscles strain and sting, but the stone doesn’t move. Feeling her throat choke up with—with everything, with fear and desperation and tears and anger—Nia pushes harder.

If she could just use her fighting type moves, maybe she’d be strong enough! Maybe she could push this stone, or break it, or—or—

Nothing. The stone won’t move.

Gasping for air that’s too hot to breathe, Nia slumps against the stone, eyes stinging again with tears.

She can’t do it. But she can’t just leave Junie here, either.

Is this how she dies? In a foreign world, without ever seeing her family and friends again? Without even saving her new friend? Without keeping up her end of the deal with Tobias? She had so much she wanted to do.

She doesn’t want to die.

Nia sobs, claws digging into the stone.

There’s another loud rumble from somewhere nearby—above—as more of the ceiling caves in, shaking the ground as the stone crashes to the floor only feet away and kicks up extra ash.

“Nia!” Junie cries. She’s sobbing now, too. “Please, leave! Just go! You can’t do anything! The roof is going to come down on us any second and I can’t—you c-can’t—”

Nia swallows hard and pushes herself back to her feet. She staggers to Junie’s side, sitting heavily in front of the little bird.

“I couldn’t find my way back out of here e-even if I tried,” Nia croaks, the words petering off into something between a laugh and a sob.

Junie looks devastated, before her expression melts into something so, so deeply sad. So guilty. “I’m so sorry, Nia.”

Nia doesn’t know how to respond, especially when her vision is spotty and it’s so hot she can’t even think, the burns and cuts on her body stinging with pain. She just shakes her head, hoping that Junie knows she doesn’t blame her for this.

Nia sends up an apology to everyone she’s leaving behind. And maybe a prayer that when she goes, it’ll be quick.

Around them, the fire roars.

#pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #darumaka #darmanitan #pokemon #pmd seekers of soul #tesha draws #tesha writes

[pasiveagressive]

Quarantine // h.s.

This was a request! Hope you like it!

Warnings: Language, implications of adult activities

March 1st 2020

Today was the happiest day of your life. You married your best friend in the world, with your closest friends and family present. You thought the day Harry asked you to marry him was going to be your all time high, but you now realise that nothing would ever compare to saying I do. You got married in Harry’s hometown. A sort of destination wedding for you and your family and a local one for him and his. 

“Hey Mrs. Styles.” you feel his arms wrap around you. You are standing in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite. Wrapped in just a towel steam fogging up the mirror from the shower the two of you had just taken.

“Oh god Harry, I don’t know if I can go by that. That is what I called your mom when we first started dating. It just seems weird.” you laugh and lock eyes with him through the reflection.

“Well that’s too bad. When you agreed to marry me you agreed to become Mrs. Harry Styles, so that’s what I am calling you from now on.” He teases you kissing your neck at the same time. 

“Babe.” You whine

“Yes Mrs. Styles?” you shoot him a look “Maybe this will help. Mrs. Styles,” a kiss on your neck “Mrs Styles,” another this one a little higher, “Mrs Styles.” This time you grab him and put his lips on yours.

“Yeah definitely helping.” you sigh into him.

March 10 2020

You had just gotten back to LA from your honeymoon last night. Harry had gotten up early to go to some meetings about Love on Tour. So you are home alone. You have the TV on as you fold laundry from your trip. 

“Breaking news, the Covid-19 virus has spread and more countries are shutting down, banning all travel.” the news anchor explains. You stop and look at the TV. Watching as the report goes on explaining what's happening.

March 13 2020

“Breaking news, the Covid-19 virus has spread and the President of the United States has declared a state of emergency, issuing a stay at home order for all non essential personnel.” three days ago this had seemed a world away, here it was now on your front doorstep. You and Harry sit and watch the new anchor go into more details. After the report you turn off the TV. Harry has his arms around you but you lean in closer if possible.

“This is scary bub.” you say out loud, breaking the silence and speaking what is on both of your minds. Harry just nods his head and then smiles 

“Guess what though angel?” 

“What’s that bub?”

“It’s like our honeymoon has been extended.” you shake your head smiling.

“That is true I suppose.” you pretend to think about it “I don’t know though, I might not feel the same now that there is no sun, or sand, or ocean, or Mai Tai in my hand.” you tease

“Well the Mai Tai thing we can fix, but I am sure you won’t be saying any of that here in a minute.” he smirks picking you up and making you squeal.

April 27 2020

You and Harry were fighting. Again. It feels like the 20th time in the last week that the two of you had gone at it. He is stressed and you are stressed and you both are sick of being cooped up in the apartment, that honestly was a bit to small for the two of you but it originally only had to work for a few weeks before Love on Tour was supposed to kick off, and while he was away you were going to go house shopping. Obviously that hadn’t happened. The current pandemic caused everything to go wrong. 

“I just don’t understand why you would do that!” Harry yells 

“That is how I have always done it, before we were together, and since we’ve been together.” you retort with an equal volume. 

“Well maybe that’s our problem, maybe we shouldn’t be together.” well that was a new statement. Your eyes go wide. Harry’s do to the moment he realises what he said. “Angel-” He starts but you cut him off.

“Please don’t call me that right now.” You say almost in a whisper trying to hold back tears. “ I need some time alone.” You say walking to your bedroom. You shut the door and that is when you let the tears go. 

It's a little while later when there is a soft knock on the door. 

“Y/N?” you had stopped crying about an hour ago and are just trying to figure out what you want to say to him.  You walk over to the door and unlock it revealing Harry who looked as if he had been crying as well. You yourself are in one of his sweatshirts that is far too big for you but makes you feel as though he is hugging you. Stepping to the side you let him in. “Y/N.” He reaches out to hug you and you brush past him. 

“We need to talk.” you state, he nods.

“Angel you know I didn’t mean what I said.” He tests out the pet name and you allow it, so he continues. “I was upset over literally nothing that you have done, I was just taking my stress out on you which is 100% unfair of me.”

“Yes it is unfair to me. But Harry you can’t say things like that. Do you want to get divorced?” you question and he looks at you like you grew a second head. 

“Is that a joke? Absolutely not.” 

“Then you can never say something like that again. Unless you plan on getting a divorce-” 

“Never going to happen.” he cuts you off

“As I was saying unless you plan on getting a divorce we can’t say things like that to each other. Harry I literally felt like I couldn’t breathe and that you didn’t want me for a while.” tears start rolling again. This time when Harry reaches out to you, you let him hold you “I love you so much and to hear you say those words nearly broke me bub.” you feel something hit the top of your head and look up to see Harry crying as well.

“I am so sorry love. You are my everything and I never want to make you feel that way okay? I love you so very much.” He kisses your forehead and the two of you fall asleep like that.

July 1st 2020

“Hey there to the lovely couple!” Jimmy Fallon says as you sit in front of your computer. 

“Hi Jimmy.” 

“‘Ello Jimmy.” 

“How are the two of you doing? Staying healthy?” Jimmy asks and you let Harry answer

“Yeah we are.” Harry smiles and answers

“What have been your favorite things to do while stuck at home?” He asks this time you answer

“We have being doing a lot of cooking and baking and then a lot of working out to equalize all of the cooking and baking.” you answer with a laugh Harry nods his head agreeing with you

“Y/N has also really gotten into TikTok. She tries to get me to do them with her but I haven’t broken yet.” 

“Ah yes young people things.” Jimmy laughs and the two of you laugh with him “Y/N I have to ask, what was it like on that beach with your husband eroctically eating watermelon?” 

“Just that Jimmy eroctic.” Harry goes red as you and Jimmy laugh some more. 

“Okay honesty time you two, have things been completely smooth sailing at the styles’ household?”

“Oh god no.” you answer immediately

“Yeah no, but that's to be expected. We only saw each other for two months and then after that we were still seeing each other almost every single hour of every single day.” Harry expands on your answer

“Yeah, I love him with my whole heart but we had never spent time like that together and honestly if this hadn’t happened we may never have. I am almost glad for the pandemic in that sense, because I knew that I loved him but now I know him on a whole new level and I can say that I will never be able to love anyone the way that I love Harry Styles.” you look over at Harry and see that he has teared up “Oh come on Styles don’t go soft on me now.” you joke and kiss his cheek

“Okay I have one more question and it is mainly for you Y/N.”

“Alright, hit me.” you say

“What made you decide to change your name. A lot of celebrities keep their name when they get married but you decided not to, why?” you had been expecting this question

“It really came down to the fact that I want to have the same last name as my husband and our children someday to not wonder why mommy has a different last name than them, or why daddy had a different last name. The more we thought about it the more it made sense. If companies don’t want me to model for them simply because I don’t have the same name I did when I rose to fame, why should I be working with them at all.” Jimmy nods as if what you are saying makes sense

“Alright thank you for zooming with me today.” Jimmy says to you and Harry

“Thanks for having us Jimmy.” Harry says smiling and turns off the camera then he turns to you “Have I told you recently how much I adore you?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to hear it.” You smile at him

“Well I love you so much and I think you are the most amazing woman I have ever met.”

“Your not so bad yourself Mr. Styles.”

#Harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry edward styles #harry #styles #mrs.styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfic #one direction x reader #fluff #angst #x reader #x y/n

[justnerdthings]

New Beginnings Ch. 1

Female Reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao (Not sure which yet)

Note: First fic I'm posting. Be gentle. I have a tendency to edit my stuff to death, but i'm gonna fight it. Anyway. This is the first chapter of a Mortal Kombat reader insertion fic. Takes place a few years before the new 2021 movie. Feel free to send me questions, concerns, comments, whatever. But remember this is for fun.

A mix of voices slowly stirred you. You didn’t understand what they were saying. A mumbling. Hushed. And as you finally became aware that you had woken up, it took everything in you to just open your eyes.

Cold. It was so cold. You could feel your body begin to shiver. As you looked up at the ceiling, you noticed immediately, even with heavily blurred vision, that this was not your ceiling. Or any ceiling you knew.

The familiar wave of anxiety crashed over you. Every nerve in your being came to life as adrenaline was instantly pumped through your veins. Where were you? You moved to sit up. Your head spun. Your stomach came up to your chest. A weak cry escaped you as you fell back on what you thought was a table.

The voices silenced. You had only just noticed that before you heard footsteps coming closer. The sound of fabric flapped.

You were holding your head as you dared to open your eyes and see only a vague, unfocused image of someone standing over you. “Wh-... Who are you?” You could barely speak.

“It’s alright. You’re safe now,” a soft, masculine voice answered.

You didn’t feel like protesting. Your head… Your head was throbbing. You’d had headaches before, but this took the cake. This was the blue ribbon of headaches. You felt your stomach lurch again. You gagged. Oh no, you thought. Your mouth watered. Oh no, you dreaded. You knew it was coming. “Bu-... Bucket-!” You barely got the word out as you rolled to your side and stomach acid spewed from your mouth.

Whoever was standing there had seen it coming. Perhaps your skin turned white or green just before it happened. It all went into a bucket… At least you thought it was a bucket. “It’s okay. Let it out,” the man soothed. You felt a hand begin to rub your back, and that alone was enough to fire off your nerves and make you hurl again. “That’s it. Take your time.”

You must have thrown up at least twice more before you began dry heaving. Nothing left to come up. Rolling onto your back, your breath was labored, chest rising just to fall like a brick landed on it, repeatedly. Oh, God, what the hell happened?

You’d passed out.

You’d woken again to voices. This time, they were more clear. You still couldn’t make out the words exactly, but you knew they were words at least. Eyes opening, they slowly focused. The ceiling was definitely not yours. It was stone… A cave? Orb lanterns hung above you to light the room. Your head was only slightly less throbbing. Slowly, ssslllooowwwlllyyy, you pushed yourself up. Something pulled at your hand. Looking to it, you noticed an IV line. What the hell? Who put that in your hand? Your head spun, but thankfully not nearly as bad as before. You could handle it.

“Oh! You’re up!” A voice called. You turned your head to see… a monk? Was he a monk? What the hell was a monk doing here?... Where was here? “Yes. Good. You’re up,” he said, with an accent and mild broken english. He stopped at the side of the table you sat on and bowed his head. “How do you feel? Should I grab another bucket?” He asked, voice full of concern.

God, you felt awful. Like the hangover from hell. You shook your head to the monk and held your head. “Where am I?” you croaked.

“Ah. Good. You’re speaking much better now.” He was nodding. “Where you are is not important right now. Please, tell me how you feel.”

“What?... No, where am I?” You insisted.

The monk had frowned, but seemed to have expected some protest. “You are in the temple of Lord Raiden. He sent for you after he sensed your danger.” “What? Lord who?” You rubbed your head and finally looked up at the monk, your brows knotted in confusion.

“Lord Raiden. A very generous Lord. He protects Earthrealm--your homeword.”

“My what?” What the hell was this guy talking about?

He seemed troubled suddenly. How could he explain simply… There was no simplicity in this situation. “Forgive me. You’re safe. You are among friends. Please…” He turned and reached for a side table where a clay pitcher sat. He poured water into a clay cup and offered it with such grace.

You took it. “Thanks…” Something about accepting drinks from strange men went through your mind as you looked into the cup. It looked like water. It smelled like… well, nothing. Did water even have a scent? You hesitantly took the tiniest sip you could… It tasted like nothing. Maybe it was water.

But he sensed your suspicion. He poured another cup, making sure you watched him, and then drank the cup dry. He showed you the empty cup to prove it.

You looked to your cup. To him. To the pitcher. Back to your cup. Well, if he would drink it… You took a committed sip and let the water wash over your mouth and down your irritated throat. It must have gotten burned when you threw up. You finished the cup and looked back to the monk. He held out his hand with a smile. You handed him the cup. He refilled it. He handed it back. You drank from it again, more comfortably.

“Yes. Good. Not too much. Don’t want it coming back up,” he said and sat the pitcher back on the side table. He gave you a grateful bow, for what, you didn’t know, and stepped away. “You gave us quite a scare when you got here,” he spoke as he ruffled through old cabinets and old clay jars on the other side of the room. “You’re lucky to be alive. Thankfully your arcana surfaced just in time, by what I was told.”

Your what? You eyed the pitcher of water again, then the IV still stuck in your hand. You ripped it out with a small grunt and tossed it to the floor. Looking up to the IV bag, you reached and turned it over to read the label. It was a simple saline. A breath of relief escaped you. At least it wasn’t something harmful.

“Yes. Very lucky indeed. Fortune favors you, I see. Very good.”

The hell was this old man talking about? You reached for the pitcher as he went on and poured yourself some more water.

“Lord Raiden will certainly be pleased that you’ve recovered. Oh…” He paused, a look of realization crossed his face. “I should send word to him that you’ve woken again. This time for the better it seems.” He left the cabinets and walked over to the curtain that separated this room from a small hallway. He stuck his head out and began calling out, “Brother Zhao! Please send word to Lord Raiden! Our guest has woken! She seems well!”

Brother Zhao? Where the hell—

“Yes. Good.” He was back at the cabinets again. “Here we go.” He finished with whatever it was and walked back over to you with a bowl, offering it to you.

Looking into the bowl, your brows rose at the sight of some sort of… goop. You looked to him, at a loss of what it was.

“Ah. Yes. Okay. For your head. Taste awful, but works good. Just a bite.”

Your expression only changed slightly, but the volume was much higher. No way where you going to eat that. What even was it?

“No? Okay.” He set the bowl on the side table next to the pitcher. “It’s here if you change your mind.”

Unlikely, you thought. But your head continued to throb.

“Perhaps food then?” He asked, and you suddenly became very aware of your very empty stomach. “Dinner will be served soon. I’m sure there will be something there you like.”

You had to change the subject. Your stomach had awoken with the offer of food. “Who are you?” You asked.

“I am Brother Feng,” He answered with modesty.

“So... This is a temple. You must be a monk?” You questioned.

“Yes!” He answered in soft glee. “I serve Lord Raiden.”

“Who is Lord Raiden?”

“He is the watcher and protector of Earthrealm.”

“So… Like a god?”

“God. Yes.”

“Okay. So, this is a religious temple?”

“No.”

Your head was spinning again, but this time in sheer confusion.

“Not religious as you know. It is merely a shelter for the Order of Light.”

“Order of Light?”

“Yes.”

“Which is…?”

“The warriors of Earthrealm.”

“Right…” Of course. How could you be so thick, you thought with heavy sarcasm. “Are there other… realms?”

“Yes. Many.”

“How many?”

“I do not know exactly… Most have been destroyed. They no longer exist as they once did. Barren. Empty.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, that is a long story. Too long for me to explain in one sitting. I’m sure Lord Raiden will tell you everything himself.”

“He’s going to talk to me?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Like… He’s a person? I thought gods were spiritual.”

“He is both.”

You weren’t sure what to say. What could you say? You were going to meet a god… or someone anyway. “Okay,” Was the only word that left your mouth before you sipped from your cup.

A knock came at the wall on the other side of the curtain and Brother Feng turned to answer. With his head poked out to see who it was, he spoke with controlled joy. “Master Liu. Wonderful. Did Lord Raiden send you?”

“Brother Feng,” A soft voice answered behind the curtain. “Yes. He was told she had awoken?”

“Yes, yes! Come.” Brother Feng had stepped aside and a much younger, much more handsome man walked into the room. He wore a black, sleeveless gi with a red sash tied around his waist. In his left hand was a string of prayer beads he seemed to be idly fidgeting with. His deep brown eyes found you instantly and to your surprise, he bowed at the waist to you.

“I am Liu Kang. I come on behalf of Lord Raiden. He wishes to speak with you if you are well enough.” His voice was so controlled, yet so relaxed and smooth. You could tell he was a man of well manners… perhaps a monk himself? He did have prayer beads. But damn, he was just too handsome to be a monk.

Wait. What? What were you thinking? You didn’t even know this guy!

He was easy on your eyes though. How could you not notice.

“Miss…?” His concern pulled you from your head.

“Oh. Sorry. I just… Headache,” you admitted. It was only a tiny lie. You’d gotten distracted. But you did have a headache. Was that bad? You were in a temple? Did they know it was a lie?

“Perhaps I should return later,” Liu Kang suggested, not at all seeming upset with the idea. “After you rest some more.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to this guy. He just oozed patience. “N-no. It’s okay. I can speak with him.”

Liu Kang’s concern was drowned by a small smile. He bowed his head and stepped aside with a gentlemanly gesture towards the curtain. “After you. Please.”

Where the hell were you? A temple. Lord Raiden’s temple. Okay. But where? You scooted to the edge of the table and placed your cup on the side table. Brother Feng had come to your side and offered his assistance. You were thankful for it. Your legs wobbled as you pushed onto them. Just how long had you been asleep? Looking over yourself, you were still wearing your own clothes.

Brother Feng allowed you to use him to steady yourself as you willed your legs to work. By the time you reached the curtain you were confident enough to let go of him, but you could feel him watching you with great attention. You could feel Liu Kang had taken over as you stepped out into a small hallway.

The hall was lined with more rooms curtained off. It became apparent that this had been some sort of makeshift hospital. An eerie, familiar feeling set in. Modern technology contrasted the antique furniture as you made your way down the hall.

“This way.”

You snapped back to focus on Liu Kang, who now gestured towards an actual door. A simple wooden door. You turned and walked… albeit a bit shaky. Liu Kang opened the door for you and let you step through first. You’d then stepped into a long, torch lit hallway. The walls were still cave-like. You couldn’t help it. You had to ask. “Are we underground?”

Liu Kang smiled and shook his head as he led you down the hall, staying at your side. He kept a watchful eye on you, seeming ready to catch you at any second. “No. Not exactly. This temple was carved into the side of a ravine. You’ll be able to see once we turn that corner ahead.”

“Ravine?...” Suddenly, you remembered your fear of heights. Okay, fear wasn’t the right word. Phobia. That fit better.

Liu Kang seemed to notice your sudden fear, because he now turned his head to look at you completely. His eyes searched your face. “Yes. A ravine. Are you alright? Do you need to rest?”

You shook your head. “No. No, I’m fine. Just… Not a fan of heights.”

He seemed to relax with that confession. He nodded. “We will pass the view as quick as you can manage.”

You nodded. Good. Hopefully you could avoid the view completely if you just looked at the floor the whole time.

“My apologies, there is no other route from here,” guilt was heavy in his voice.

“No. It’s okay. I just wont look. If I don’t look, I can’t see how high up I am. It’ll be like it never happened,” You lied nervously. Truth was, you were so afraid of heights, that even climbing a step ladder made you nervous. Always had. Ever since you’d fallen out of that tree as a kid.

Liu Kang continued to watch you. You glanced up to him and noticed just how his eyes seemed to look not at you, but into you. You looked away, back to the floor as he led you around the corner.

“Don’t look,” He warned with a gentle voice. You took a deep breath and tried to walk faster. But of course, you snuck a peak out of the corner of your eye and caught the sight of the setting sun. Not a cloud in sight. Stars were just beginning to shine… Then your eyes drifted down.

You saw it. The ravine. You gasped and froze. Oh no. No. No. Too high. Way too high. You stopped dead in your tracks. Liu stopped just a step ahead of you. He looked back with a furrowed brow.

“I looked…” You sheepishly admitted.

He frowned. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah.”

He stepped to the other side of you, blocking your view. His eyes drifted down to your chest and you felt the instinct to slap him for looking, for being a perv.

He must have noticed your disapproval. As he looked back up to your face, a red hue came to his cheeks. “Oh. No.” He held his hands up defensively. “I did not mean to offend you. I was just watching your breath.”

Yeah, sure. You’d heard that one before… No you hadn’t. That was a new one.

“Your breathing is shallow.”

“Kinda normal when you’re scared,” you quipped.

“Breathe. It’s okay. Just breathe.” He gestured with his hand the rise and fall of his own diaphragm as he took a deep breath. You tried to copy his breath, but yours shook. “Good. I promise, you’re okay. You’re not going to fall. Come here.” He took a small step forward and you watched his feet. Taking another forced deep breath, you willed forward. He took another step. You took another step. Another step. Another step. “Breathe,” he coached gently. You sucked in another breath. “There. Keep going.” He began to walk at a normal pace and you stayed right with him.

When you thought you couldn’t do it anymore, you reached the next corner and were again surrounded by the cave's walls. A heavy, relieved breath escaped you as you leaned against one of the walls. And to his credit, Liu Kang didn’t say an ill word of it. He seemed to relax with you, as if worried you were going to panic. Which you did.

“See? You did it,” He told you, that warm smile on his face again.

You nodded and let another relieved breath leave you. “Please tell me I don’t have to do that again.” But his silence made you look back up to him.

He frowned.

You groaned with dread.

“I think we’ll focus on getting rid of your fear of heights. Training won't do you any good if you can’t focus,” He thought aloud.

“Training? What?”

“Lord Raiden will explain.”

“Just how many more views do I have to walk by before I get to see this guy?”

“... I will block your view as best I can.”

You groaned again. That meant there was at least one more hall like that one. Hopefully just one.

It wasn’t just one.

It was four.

Four.

Why did this Lord Raiden have to build his house in a damn hole in the Earth?!

You couldn’t do this anymore. No. No more views. Walls were good. Solid, windowless walls were good. Liu Kang placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“This fear is a problem.”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly.

“But you faced it. Five times. You could have stopped before the first.”

You groaned.

“You have a brave soul,” He said with confidence. “I can see why Lord Raiden was adamant about saving you.”

“Saving me?” You looked to him. At this point, a confused expression could just be permanently plastered to your face and it’d always be accurate around here.

“Yes. Come on. Only a little more way to go.” He stepped ahead of you. You followed.

"There you are," a deep voice called as Liu Kang finally led you into a large room of pillars that resembled Tesla coils. You looked to see a man, dressed in all white with a harvester hat that obstructed most of his face from view.

Liu Kang bowed his head to his Lord in greeting as he walked towards the man in white. "Lord Raiden, she is exactly as you described."

You, once again, confused, looked to Liu Kang as you followed him past the electric pillars. You could feel the electricity in the air and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand.

"Is she? That's great news." Raiden tilted his head up just enough so now you could see two glowing blue eyes staring right at you.

A chill was sent down your spine, but you stood your ground, mostly curious about this man, this place. Was he really a god?

"Yes. I am really a god," Raiden answered your thoughts. Your eyes widened and a sense of dread filled you.

Don't think of anything embarrassing. Don't think of anything embarrassing. Don't think about Liu Kang's ass, you thought frantically. You'd been stealing glances of it the whole way here.

Raiden grinned. Then he laughed openly.

Ah, shit. Your face grew hot. It must have been red as a firetruck.

Liu Kang, however, was now the one confused.

#Mortal Kombat #Mortal kombat 2021 #liu kang #kung lao #raiden #reader insert #fanfic #fic #reader x character #ludi lin #max huang #tadanobu asano #new beginnings

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART THREE

Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of alcohol Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: okay guys, you know the drill. Thank you to the best beta, @lantern-inthenight and to my moral support and idea’s girl, @myownparadise96

MASTERPOST

taglist: @satingrass-maidensfair​ @guitarfingers​ @thebohemianpenguin​ @n1-party-anthem​ @peaceisouranthem​ @oblvions​ @hansonobsessed​ @bigblack-catattack​ @myownparadise96​

To your pleasant surprise, you had a total of three classes with Kate. Biology, Philosophy, and Anatomy, and she made sure to sit close to you in every one of them. With the first day of classes behind you, you were able to breathe a sigh of relief. You had gone unnoticed by most, which you held as a comfort in the back of your head. 

When Wednesday rolled around, Josh walked you to school, a notebook tucked under his arm this time. You had prepared some coffee for the both of you, and you had had two days to get into the swing of packing lunches - nothing too extravagant, but enough to get you through the day. 

When you reached the atrium, you parted ways, agreeing to meet up at noon again, same spot. 

Kate was waiting for you when you sat down at your lab table. You smiled at her as she stretched her arms behind her head, seemingly trying to wake herself up. 

“I’m not used to these early ass classes,” she said.  “I’ve been waking up at noon all summer long.”

You glanced down at your drink and slid the thermos across the slate tabletop. 

“You want some of my coffee? It’s my secret weapon.”

She laughed, wiping at her eyes. “I’m not sure how much of a ‘secret’ coffee is,” she teased, but took it from your grasp and popped the top. Her hair, tucked behind her ear, came to a sharp point by her chin and the dark color accentuated the movement of her throat as she sipped it down. 

“Maybe it would also help if you ate something for breakfast,” you suggested.

She licked her lips absently, seemingly working through the logistics in her head. “Yeah, I’m sure it would, but that would mean I’d have to wake up more than five minutes before I need to be out the door.”

The shrill sound of the bell swallowed your laugh.

-

Lunch came around just when you needed it to the most. Your English professor had thrown you the ultimate curveball, telling you - just three days in - that you’d need to prepare and present a piece on a book you hadn’t read yet. But reading a novel in a matter of days wasn’t the part that got you; it was the part where you’d have to stand in front of thirty people you didn’t know and talk about it at length. 

So, by the time you spotted Josh sitting on the railing by the stairs of the atrium, you were ready to breathe an audible sigh of relief. 

He looked perfectly comfortable - even happy - in a group of six other people, all standing around him in a crescent shape. They seemed to be having a lively conversation, reacting to him like the tide to the moon. One or two words and he had them all grinning. You waited patiently across the room, and a beat later, his eyes landed on you. As soon as he stood and excused himself, the other dispersed like he was the glue holding them there from the beginning. 

He greeted you with a honey-sweet smile, falling into pace with your steps as you headed out the doors. 

“How’s your day so far?” you asked, turning your head towards him to catch his answer. 

“It’s good,” he replied. “Nice to be back at it actually, even if my voice is a little rusty. How are you?”

“I’m fine-”

You went to continue, but he was sent forward an inch or two as someone punched the back of his arm from behind, knocking the breath from his lungs. You hadn’t been sure it wasn’t hostile until a guy wrapped his arm around Josh’s shoulder, pulling him into his side. 

Through a beaming grin, the man spoke. “Hey, dude! Where the hell have you been? I haven’t heard shit from you in forever!” 

You weren’t sure what to do other than to stand there awkwardly, thumbs hooked around the straps of your bag across your shoulders. When you realized the conversation would take longer than you cared to hang around for (also, you didn’t want to seem like you were eavesdropping), you made your way to a brick barrier across the grass and sat with your back against it. Josh shot you an apologetic smile, but you waved him off, pulling out your plastic baggies of food and laying them out next to you. Red grapes, string cheese, crackers, and carrot sticks - you counted it all off in your head. 

It took a couple of minutes before he could pull away, but he rushed to join you as soon as he could get the guy to stop talking for even a second.

“Hey, sorry,” he quickly muttered as he sat with his legs folded, one under the other. 

“No need to apologize,” you said, and meant it. “Here, I brought lunch.”

His eyes widened as he reached for the bag of grapes. “This is for me too? Wow, this is quite the spread.”

“Of course, it’s for you,” you said through a laugh, rolling your eyes at him. He laughed back, the sound coming out light and sunny. 

It was getting cooler. Even just in the couple of short weeks you’d been in Michigan, the weather was changing. You eyed him, dressed in a loose white t-shirt, and shivered out of sympathy. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows tipping up in concern. 

You shook your head and waved him off. “Nothing, just haven't acclimated yet.” 

He huffed a laugh, giving you a sympathetic look. “Well, you’d better hurry. Winter is coming,” he said dramatically through a grave expression. 

You rolled your eyes at him, popping a carrot stick into your mouth before you could say anything stupid.

-

After your lunch period was Philosophy. Josh had left you about fifteen minutes before you were due at class, explaining that he wanted enough time to set up for the next period. You think it was Theater for him, but you couldn’t be sure - he always talked a mile a minute, and often all you could do was nod and try your best to keep up.

Kate caught you in the hall, matching your pace quickly. 

“Hey,” she said, bumping her shoulder into yours lightly like you’d been friends for ages. “So. How was lunch?”

The question was innocent enough, but her tone paired with the glint in her eyes was not. You cocked your head at her, giving her a curious smile. 

“It was just fine; why do you ask?” 

She hummed and clutched her books tight to her chest. “I just. Couldn’t help but notice you cozying up to one of the Kiszka boys. What’s up with that?”

You snapped around to give her an alarmed look. “Who, Josh?” you asked, suddenly feeling like a complete moron for not realizing you’d never even asked his last name. 

“Yeah!” she agreed, giving you a smug look. “You know - curls, dimples, teeth so white you have to wear sunglasses to have a conversation with him.”

“Oh, he’s just my roommate,” you explained simply, but she looked unconvinced.

“Ah, really? Roommate and you also have a crush on him? That’s hot goss.”

You were turning the corner into the classroom then, but you paused just before you sat at your seat. You could feel your cheeks start to warm. 

“What? No,” you denied, setting your books on the tabletop, gently enough that they didn’t make a sound, and hanging your backpack from your chair. “No, he’s just a friend.”

She looked like she still didn’t believe you, but she didn’t say anything else. There were still a few moments before class started - your professor was busying himself at a file cabinet in the corner of the room, shuffling papers around hastily. You glanced over at her out of the corner of your eye, opening your mouth to speak a couple of times before you gained the courage to do so.

 “D-do you know anything about him?” you asked, just under normal speaking volume. 

She looked over at you with a grin, as if you even asking was like admitting that she was right - which she was not.

“Hmm, what could I say about him. He’s kind of the life of the party,” she started. “Loud, eccentric, confident. People seem to love being around him.”

All of that seemed to check out - that you already knew. “Does he party a lot?” you inquired. 

“He used to a lot more. I’ve hardly seen him at all this summer.”  

You frowned at nothing in particular, just a little offset by that. “Any reason why?” 

“I’m not sure,” she admitted after a beat. “He’s popular enough. Loads of people want to be around him, it seems.” 

You giggled to yourself at her dreamy tone. “If I didn’t know better, I’d guess that you have a crush on him.” 

She waved you off with a smile. “There is no denying that he’s cute, right? That much is obvious.”

You realized that she was waiting for you to answer after a second of silence. You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I guess he’s a handsome guy.”

You wanted to ask more, but you weren’t sure what else to ask. You were going to try and continue the conversation after class, but it had run long, giving you just enough time to make it to Economics before being late. You opted to exchange numbers instead, handing your phone over to her and that’s how Kate ended up living in your contacts with a (self-appointed) bunny emoji next to her name. 

All the questions you had intended to ask her slipped from your head the second the next bell rang. 

-

Josh had sent you an apologetic text that you’d have to walk home alone, and he’d be done around six. The route back to the apartment was becoming familiar, and you were starting to enjoy Michigan. The freedom made you feel like a character in a teen movie and you took the time to relish it. 

You were just getting out of the shower when you heard the front door open. Your hair was still wrapped in a towel when you padded down the hall, already in your pajama pants despite it being only 6:30. Josh was on his tippy-toes, peering up into the cupboard above the sink that housed all the snacks but ultimately not finding what he was looking for.

“Hey, how was school?” you asked, watching as he pulled some leftovers out of the fridge. He popped the lid and smelled the container before setting them on the counter next to the microwave. 

“Good, I stayed late to start drawing up the outline for the musical. I’m going to have kids auditioning in two weeks, so I have to be ready.” 

He beamed every time he talked about the production, something he did often. You couldn’t help but smile back. 

“That’s so exciting,” you agreed, leaning over the open fridge door. “It’s all happening so fast.”

“You’re telling me! Did you eat yet?” 

You shook your head. “No, I haven’t,” you replied honestly.

“Okay, I’ll heat some for you too,” he said, not giving you a chance to respond. When dinner was finished, you sat down together in the living room, and it wasn’t thirty seconds later that he flicked his eyes up at you. 

“Hey, so. My friend is throwing this party tonight - 'supposed to be a real rager.”

“Oh, yeah?” You met his eyes. “Are you going to go?”

He nodded at you. “Yeah, could be fun. You wanna come?” 

You tried not to look too shocked, but you couldn’t help it. The look on your face made him breathe a laugh. 

“You’re inviting me?”

“Of course,” he said around a mouth full of mushroom ravioli like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

You bit your bottom lip a moment, trying to buy a little time to process. “I’m not super good around a bunch of people. Also, I have a metric ton of homework to get through.” 

Even though he was good at hiding it, you could tell he was at least a little disappointed. 

“Rain check?” you asked hopefully, making his posture perk up a little.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, nodding as the microwave timer sounded. 

“I have a presentation that I have to give on Monday and I’m not nervous about it at all.”

You laced your fingers together under your chin anxiously. 

He gave you an assuring smile. “You’re going to do great,” he promised, handing you a bowl and a fork. 

When he could tell that you still weren’t convinced, he spoke again. 

“If you’re really worried about it, you can present it to me first.” You flicked your eyes up at him, trying to gauge if he was just being polite, or if he actually meant it. You decided that the answer was the latter as you found no trace of insincerity. 

“That might help a lot actually,” you agreed, nodding your head. “I’ll let you know when it’s finished?” 

He smiled back at you in affirmation. 

+++

You had tried to work in the living room, but you kept finding yourself getting distracted. First, it was the dripping sound that the kitchen sink always made, but even when you were finally able to block that out, your eyes kept catching on the clock on the DVD player flashing 00:00 perpetually. You knew that had you been working on a subject you actually cared about, it would be a lot easier, but you were stuck working on math, so it was no use. After about half an hour, you dragged everything into your room and posted up on your bed, back against the headboard, and found instantly that being around your own belongings had helped. 

You put on some ambient music, letting it become background noise as you chipped away at your work, first finishing all your math worksheets, and then moving on to Chemistry. 

A frown set on your lips as you peered over your notes. You pulled your phone out and opened your message app.

In your first ever message to Kate, you said,

Hey, I’m a disaster human and I forgot to write down how far we need to read in Chemistry

You stood and made yourself a cup of coffee while you waited for her reply, and as you stirred the milk in, you heard your phone buzz. 

Kate     now

shit thanx for reminding me. I think it’s from pg 10 - 25. Think we’ll get quizzed on it or should i skip it? 

You flipped your book open to page ten and skimmed the first paragraph. When the topic seemed familiar, you shot her back,

I’m guessing we will honestly. But what’s more fun than Air Analysis?

Kate     now

Literally anything right?

You huffed a laugh and just messaged her back a smug-looking emoji. 

She was right. It was terribly boring. You tried as hard as you could to retain what you were reading, but by the time you got to page 25, you weren’t entirely sure you’d pass a quiz on the topic. 

You hadn’t realized how late it was getting until your stomach started growling. The clock on your nightstand read 9:45 pm.

Luckily, the kitchen cupboards were pretty full. You mulled it over for a moment before reaching for a box of pasta and a jar of red sauce. 

The water was almost at a boil when you heard the key slide into the lock on the front door. 

When it swung open, Josh landed his eyes on you and grinned. 

“What’s up?” he asked cheerily. 

You giggled at his obviously drunken state. “Not much. How was the party?”

Closing the door and locking it behind him, he replied, “Pretty fun. A little crazy.”

“Yeah?” you asked rhetorically through a smile. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded back at you, slinging his jacket over the back of the couch. 

“Well, you picked a great time then. Spaghetti?” 

He hummed, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge next to you. “Perfect.” 

It quiet for a moment as he watched you pour the pasta in and work the noodles until they were fully submerged. 

“How did you get home?” 

“Got a ride,” he assured with a warm look. “What did you get up to? Not just homework, I hope.”

“What else would I be doing?” you asked with a huff. 

He shrugged innocently at you, taking a swipe of sauce off the inside of the lid with his finger. You flicked your eyes over at him.

“I probably should make some friends,” you admitted, a teasing tone painting the words. 

As you went to grab the strainer out of the top cupboard, you felt a hand on your shoulder. It had taken you aback a bit; that was the first time Josh had ever touched you. You paused what you were doing to meet his eyes. 

He was giving you an honest looking smile. “I’m your friend,” he said, almost as an offering - like it wasn’t much more than a consolation prize. 

You smiled back at him, feeling suddenly very warm and happy. You weren’t sure what to say, so you just pressed your side against his and savored the moment. 

You weren’t sure if he’d remember it in the morning, but it didn’t really matter.

Author’s Note: What are we thinking? I get butterflies every time someone reblogs, likes, replies, or sends me an ask, so don’t be afraid to do that! As always, send me a message if you’d like to be added to the taglist, so you can know the second I update!

#brightest blue fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fic #Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {1}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, 

Words: 6.1k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated. 

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride begins. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a note, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Picture Heavy***

Chapter One

“You were supposed to be on your way home.”

 You rolled your eyes as you scoffed. You’d mentioned nights ago that you thought you should just go home, but then you went to your next destination. It was a moment of weakness or it could have been loneliness. Your schedule took a lot out of you. No one saw it because it was all behind the scenes. All anyone ever saw were the incredible places you went to, the fun things you experienced, and the culture you soaked up. What they grasped was whatever you posted in your pictures.

 “You know I can’t. I started this series, and it’s gotten the eye of a lot of sponsors, and one of them is even talking about some really big ideas at the end of it if it goes really well. that could be incredible for my brand,” you explained.

 Anika sighed loudly. You knew she was annoyed with you right now, especially it being December.

 “I know you’re disappointed. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

 “Whatever.”

 “Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. It looks like we’re headed right into a storm. We’ll be experiencing a little turbulence as we veer off course a little bit as we try to evade this thing. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”

 You sighed while buckling your seatbelt, preparing for what was coming.

 “What’s happening?”

 “Going through some turbulence. It should be fine,” you assured your sister.

 “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to hang up.”

 You nodded to the flight attendant and promptly ended the call promising your sister that you’d call her back when you landed in Sandvell. As soon as you hung up, the turbulence began. It started out with slight bumps, that you could sip your drink through. Then graduated to bigger bumps that had you gripping the elbow rests. When the entire plane started to shake, your heart leaped into your throat. One minute passed, then two, and after five minutes or so, the speaker came back on.

 “Ladies and gentleman, your captain again. We’re going to be landing shortly. This storm is not one to be messed with. I apologize for the inconvenience, folks, but on this airline, we choose safety above all else.”

 You weren’t going to argue with him. You definitely didn’t want to risk your life over getting to your next destination. What was a one or two day delay? Once the pilot got to a lower altitude, the majority of the turbulence subsided. It was another ten minutes before the plane landed, but when it did, all you could see from the window was white overcast with darkness.

 When you had your belongings gathered and began walking off the plane along with the other fifty or so passengers, you tried to find cell service, but you had zero bars.

 “Excuse me, where are we?”

 “Uh—I’m actually not sure, ma’am. Patricia, where are we?”

 The two flight attendants looked puzzled. The second asked a third, and that third asked another. None of them seemed to know. That was not a good sign, you thought. Once you’d walked down the long corridor that served as the connection between the airport and the plane, you found yourself in one of the classiest airports you’d ever been in, and you’d been inside quite a few as a travel blogger. As far as the eye could see, it was class, with the exception of the floor.

You looked around you and marveled at the detail in the design that was around you. Where most airports were mainly logically designed without lavishness. This one looked like lavishness was the first priority. The floors looked to be made from the finest paonazzetto marble. You remembered the name because of the substantial time you’d spent in Italy trying to capture architecture through your camera lens. Reaching for your camera around your neck, you began snapping a few frames of the floor. Getting lost in picture taking, you found yourself at one of the many glass windows snapping pictures of the airplanes on the tarmac.

 Hearing the commotion of raised voices behind you, you looked back and saw the passengers of the plane you’d just disembarked from gathered in a huddle. You walked back toward them in time to catch a question from a concerned passenger.

 “How long are we delayed? When will we get back in the air? I have to get to Sandvell.”

 A man wearing a mixture of royal blue and white colors cleared his throat then spoke. “I apologize, ladies and gentlemen, for the delay. There is a storm heading right for us on the path to Sandvell. Continuing through it would be lunacy. Our only viable option is to wait it out.”

 No one seemed to like that answer. All the questions flew out at once. All their voices overlapped, and you could tell that the gentleman was overwhelmed by not only the volume of questions but also their voices.

 “According to our team here, we’re expecting possibly a twenty-four to thirty-six-hour delay.”

 Everyone groaned in unison, everyone but you. You’d traveled enough to always expect the unexpected. Things like this didn’t bother you so much now, three years into your career. The only thing that bothered you now was that you’d have to rearrange your hotel plans as well as finding somewhere to sleep tonight.

 “You said here,” you began with all eyes trained to you. “Where exactly is here?”

 The gentleman cleared his throat again. “Brexendor.”

 The crowd murmured as they looked at each other. Clearly, no one had ever heard of Brexendor. Some even pulled out their travel map to scour it for the country.

 “So what are we supposed to do now? Where do we stay?”

 “We are in the process of arranging accommodations at one of the inns within the capital. If you all would work with us so we have your names to get your luggage to you in a timely fashion so you can be shuttled over to the Inn, that would be appreciated.”

 Everyone filed into a line in front of one of the four airport staff, hoping to hurry matters along while you searched your phone for any information on where you were. When you typed in Brexendor into the search engine, the first thing that popped up was a map of the country. Apparently, it was next door to Sandvell. They were considered sister countries.

 “Population three million, run as a monarchy, considered one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Average life expectancy one hundred and ten years. Well, damn.”

 Someone clearing their throat brought your attention up in front of you. You were next in line.

 “Sorry.”

 The woman with brown eyes and blonde hair smiled warmly. “It’s all right, Ms--.”

 “Uh, Thornton, Xari Thornton.” You handed her your passport and boarding pass and waited as she scrolled through her tablet.

 “Ah yes, Ms. Thornton. Here is your paperwork. On it, you will find where you can retrieve your luggage and the shuttle number that will be taking you to the Inn. Once at the Inn, just provide your name, and you will find everything has been taken care of. On behalf of Brexendor Aviation, we humbly apologize for this snafu.”

 Her customer service training was on point, you thought. Her smile was warm, as if she really meant the words she’d just said. Finding it refreshing, you took the paperwork and proceeded to where she was motioning. Everyone you passed as you walked the fancy halls had a warm smile plastered to their face and even warmer words of welcome. You felt as if you’d stepped through into some alternate universe. You made a voice note about everything you encountered. You wanted to make sure you captured your authentic feelings and reactions in real-time. It made writing about your experience on the blog page easier. You’d even found that readers and supporters liked the play by play with your added thoughts. They commented it added personality.

Once you’d made it to the baggage claim area, your jaw dropped at the change in décor. There were Christmas trees that sparsely decorated the space, and they were all lit with the same blue, silver, and white theme. It contrasted with the latte color of the leather seats and the cream offset tables. The design gave the space an elegant but also comfortable vibe. When you slipped into one of the chairs, you released an audible moan. It was like sitting on a cloud.

 After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions through a hall lined with Christmas trees, stopping every so often to take a few pictures before you made it to the front of the airport. As you stepped outside, your eyebrows shot up seeing the fresh snow cascading from the sky. The bite in the air had you bundling your jacket tighter, but it did not stop you from snapping a few pictures. One turned to ten and ten to fifteen until another person clearing their throat brought you back to reality and to the waiting bus ahead of you.

You took a break from pictures and called the hotel in Sandvell, hoping to alter the dates of your stay. What you expected to be a hassle and a long drawn out process ending in them saying they were booked and nothing could be done, turned out to be quick, easy, and painless. The Luxembourg Hotel assured you that your room would still be available and there would be no charge for the altered dates. You made another note on your phone, a point you had to stress when you wrote your piece.

 You continued snapping pictures from the window of the bus with an easy mind. Everything you passed seemed like it didn’t belong. It all looked so old fashioned but so modern all at the same time. The buildings looked to have been standing since the beginning of time in the materials they’d been built in, but the displays were from the twenty-first century. It was the most exciting contradiction. The only word you could think to describe it was—quaint.

 When the bus drove over a bridge, you got a semi-bird’s eye view of the town across the water, and your jaw nearly dropped.

 “Brexendor? What the hell?”

 The entire drive had you widening your eyes like a child seeing an insane amount of presents on Christmas morning. Buildings were decked out in Christmas lights, and every door had a wreath with blue and silver Christmas ornaments. Almost every few feet, the sidewalks were decorated with poinsettia trees that were half the average human’s height, and the way the freshly fallen snow-dusted their tops only made it even more perfect.

 By the time the bus stopped, you’d taken so many pictures, and part of you was dreading having to go through them to choose the ones that would make the cut. You knew it was going to be a next to impossible decision. As you stepped off the bus, you felt like you’d walked right into a snow globe.

“Holy shit!”

 You spun, taking in a full three-sixty view of your surroundings. all the glistening lights and the falling snow only made it feel even more magical. You didn’t know where the hell Brexendor was or why the hell they rolled like this, but you were excited to see more. When you stopped spinning, you realized several other people were snapping pictures and looking just as marveled as you were. After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions and walked across the street to the building that a friendly looking man with slightly greying hair was standing before beckoning you inside.

 For the second time that night, you felt as if you’d stepped into a Christmas movie set. The interior was set so cozy. It felt like a Christmas cottage, and you loved it. Instinct had you reaching for your camera and taking a few shots of the Christmas tree in the corner by the fireplace and the plaid decorations on the leather couch. Even the pictures on the walls got a snap.

 “Miss?”

 Looking back to the owner, you smiled and approached the desk.

 “Hi, I’m so sorry. This place is so gorgeous.”

 “Thank you. I wish I could take the credit, but it is all my wife.”

 Just then, a beautiful brunette came out wearing a bright red sweater and one of those spoof reindeer antler headbands that bounced with every move.

 “Hi, there darling. Welcome to The Beaux. I’m Anita, and this is my husband, Borik. I heard all about your ordeal. I’m so sorry.”

 You shrugged but kept your smile plastered on your face.

 “It’s all right. Can’t control the weather, right?”

 Anita smiled and nodded. “Definitely not in Brexendor.”

 “I have never heard of this place before, and I am lost how. Everything is gorgeous and so quaint. How have you stayed under the radar?”

 Anita and Borik looked at each other with an all-knowing look that you wanted in on.

 “Guess it’s just happened,” Anita cheerfully said.

 You knew they knew something. Staying this under the radar, including from America, didn’t just happen. This took work. You wondered who in charge in their right mind would make a stupid decision like that.

 “Okay, what’s your name, darling?”

 “Uh, Xari Thornton.”

 “Ah-ha, I told you, Borik. Once we were contacted with a list of names that would be checking in, and I saw your name, I told him I just know she’s gorgeous and look. You are a vision.”

 You couldn’t help but smile widely while trying to keep your head under proper proportions.

 “Thank you.”

 “You must have quite the many suitors where you’re from,” Anita continued.

 You snorted and shook your head. The reality was you were as single as the number one with no prospects.

 “No suitors here.”

 Both Borik and Anita looked shocked, as if you’d said the most appalling thing.

 “That can’t be true. Borik. She’s single and at twenty-eight. Even our Kennedy was at least engaged by the time she turned twenty-seven. Here that is unheard of. A woman is usually married by twenty-four, especially if she’s a looker.”

 You pinched your lips, trying to keep your laughter in. this was not the first time you’d been called an old maid. Hell, your mother said it often, especially since you flat out turned down Maurice’s proposal three months ago. She was livid.

 Anita must have sensed the awkwardness of the moment because she cleared her throat and brought all her attention back to the reservation.

 “Well, your room is prepared. I took the liberty of giving you one of our prettiest rooms. Would you like Borik to carry your bags up?”

 “Uh—no, I’m sure I can manage,” you began.

 Borik stood, shook his head, and came around to you.

 “I won’t hear a thing about it. I’ll happily carry your luggage up. Follow me.”

 “That’s my Borik, ever the gentleman,” Anita filled in with an enamored smile before Borik walked off, leaving her to check in a few of the other passengers from the plane.

 You listened to Borik tell the story of the Inn and how it got its name. You kept one ear on his story while you took in every detail around you. The wood looked so rustic, and you guessed that was what gave the place such a warm and welcoming feeling. The higher you climbed, the more you saw, and the more you saw, the more you liked. You followed Borik down a hall, noticing that all the doors you passed had mini wreaths decked out in the same blue and silver ornaments like at the airport and throughout the streets.

 “Ah-ha, here we are,” Borik said before he put the key into the lock and pushed the door open. Once he did, the scent of cinnamon and pine hit you in the face. It was like the hand of Christmas came out and smacked you.

 “My wife loves the smell,” Borik explained as you stepped inside. You smiled and thanked him for his help.

 “If you get hungry, you have a few options. There are plenty of places nearby you can eat some authentic Brexendorian food, but also my wife cooks every night, and dinner usually is at eight o’clock, but tonight Anette has agreed to keep some heated for anyone who would like some. It’s stew, rabbit.”

 “Oh, thumper. Wonderful.”

 Borik laughed loudly with that one. “I know that one, Bambi, the children’s cartoon. Good one Ms. Thornton.”

 You smiled. “You can call me Xari, Borik.”

 “Well, have a good night,” he said before he walked out.

 Finally alone, the first thing you did was text your sister to let her know not to worry and give her an update on what was happening. After you let Anika know what was happening, it didn’t take long for your phone to ring. The next ten or so minutes were spent talking to Anika and telling her how amazing the things you’d seen so far were. You could not shut up about the decorations, the way the snow looked to have been groomed to lay on things perfectly. It was that damn picturesque. Since you couldn’t stop talking about it, Anika was the one to suggest you go out and enjoy it before you got back on the plane. It was a suggestion you fully intended on listening to.

 Fifteen minutes later, you were back downstairs bundled with your camera and your purse, ready to explore. When you told Anita your intention, she gave you a map of the city and highlighted places to look at but cautioned you to hurry because stores would be closing soon, and nights during Brexendor winters could be brutal. You promised you’d be quick and careful, then stepped out, ready to explore like Dora.

 Your first stop was a block down, a children’s toy store. It was decked out with all the latest toys along with some traditional things that Santa would have brought specially made from his workshop. While you were snapping pictures outside the window, a kid ran up to the window and pressed his nose to it. His eyes were wide, and his mouth matched their size. You asked the adult with him if you could take a picture. When they approved, you got one or two from a few different angles before they walked off.

 As you walked through the city, enjoying the scenery, you took pictures of everything that caught your eye, ornaments, trees, people, stores, even pets. Christmas wasn’t your favorite holiday, but it was your second favorite, and being here really as inching it higher on the list.

 When you felt a strong wind hit you, it stopped you in your tracks. It was strong enough to have you stagger backward a little, allowing a chill to sweep through you. You looked around and saw a few feet away was some sort of bar, and behind it was swirling snow that looked like a tornado. You hurried toward the building, being careful not to slip on any ice that may be hiding underneath the snow. Once to the door, you walked inside, and the sound of Christmas carols filled your ears.

 “Jesus.”

 If the scent of the Inn felt like Christmas slapped you in the face, the look and sound of this place was the one two-hitter that settled that you were in a whole nother world here. You looked around and found a coat rack along the left wall. After placing your jacket and scarf on the hook, you walked to the bar and slid onto a stool. As you waited for the bartender to come over, you looked around. Here it didn’t smell like cinnamon, but the pine was present, along with the smell of alcohol and licorice.

There were several small dark wooden tables around the bar with chairs and even booths that decorated the walls. The floors matched the tables, and those matched the walls. This place looked like somewhere you’d find in the middle of nowhere. The window to the back of the establishment showed the dark woods with tall snow-covered trees and that howling snow tornado.

 When you turned back to the back, the huge elk head above the wall lined with alcohol bottles had you gasping.

 “Jeez,” you said as you snapped two of three pictures of the creepy looking thing.

 “That is Hogan’s prized possession.”

You looked beside you where the voice came from to see a very attractive man there. When you’d sat down, you didn’t notice anyone beside you, so to see his piercing blue eyes boring holes into you. Your eyes traveled lower to his awkwardly shaped nose. It looked like it had been broken once or twice and never quite went back to normal. You didn’t mind it, though. Who liked a perfect face, especially when looking at him, seemed like that was about the only thing that was not absolutely perfect. His jaw was carved to precision like he was specially crafted and not born. When your eyes fell to his lips, you purposely forced yourself to look away.

 “Is—is that right?”

 “Yes. I bet you cannot guess why,” the stranger said in a crisp European accent that was very close to British. You weren’t one hundred percent sure if it was or not, he just sounded proper as hell, and it was actually a bit of a turn on.

 You shrugged while looking at the bottles that lined the back of the bar. “Enlighten me.”

 Just then, a large man with blond hair in a man bun walked over. He had to have been over six feet tall, and if this were America, he’d definitely be a shopper at the store Big & Tall. The man looked to the one seated beside you, ready to speak but suddenly closed his mouth.

 “Hogan, Ms--,” the stranger began waiting for you to fill in your name.

 He thought he was so smooth; you thought as you smiled to yourself.

 “Xari.”

 His eyebrow shot up, and he smiled sweetly. “Wow, what a beautiful name.”

 You smiled, and as you felt it widening, you bit onto your bottom lip to stop it. “Thanks.”

 “Ms. Xari would like to know why Shandoe is your most prized possession.”

 “Shandoe?”

 Hogan looked behind him at the Elk’s head then smiled. “It’s been in my family for generations. It was the first thing my great-great-great-great-great grandfather ever killed for himself to feed his family. They ate everything but the head and decided to keep it as a reminder of where we came from.”

 You were expecting some weird manly story but what you got was a wholesome and heartwarming tale. You smiled, raised your camera, and snapped Hogan, and as he stared at the Elk’s head with such a loving look on his face that was such a contradiction for his large frame.

 “Are you a reporter?”

 “No, no. Not at all. I’m a travel influencer and blogger. I go around and soak up what the world has to offer while taking pictures and writing about it on my blog for others to read about.”

 The man beside you nodded, then raised his glass to his head.

 “What can I get you?”

 “Uh—what is he drinking?”

 “The Mistletoe Bomb.”

 You snorted, unable to contain yourself any longer. “What in the world is that?”

 “You laugh now, but it is a blend he makes special for me. It is not for the faint of heart,” the man beside you informed.

 “Oh no, well looks like I’ll be having one of those.”

 Hogan looked to him, then back to you. “It is all right, Hogan. Give the lady what she wants. I am assuming fell strength is also what you require?”

 “Yes, full strength. I want all the mistletoe and all the bomb.”

 Hogan went to work, making the drink while you continued looking around.

 “Em, I’m Henry.”

 You looked to him to find his hand outstretched to you, waiting for you to place yours in it. When you did, you repeated your name as you noted how soft his hands were. It felt like he’d never done a day’s work with them. Henry rose your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. It was one small action, but that action had butterflies flitting in your belly and your cheeks heating as if a heater was aimed directly at your face.

 “I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” Henry uttered while looking into your eyes.

 “Same,” you whispered.

 Henry released your hand and turned back to his drink at the same time Hogan placed a mug before you.

 “One Mistletoe Bomb for the lady.”

 You looked at the large mug then to Hogan, who waited expectantly. When your eyes drifted to Henry beside you, he too was watching and waiting. No matter how much you felt like this was a setup, you persisted, not wanting to back down. When you took your first full mouthful of the drink, your eyes immediately bugged. Your tongue was on fire in seconds, and it seemed the longer you held the liquid in your mouth, the worse the burn was. You gulped it down and instantly knew the mistake. Not only was your mouth on fire, but now your throat and chest as it burned a fiery path to your belly.

 “Holy fucking shit!”

 The two men boisterously laughed, the sounds booming off the wooden walls before filling the entire room. You looked around, noticing for the first time it was completely empty.

 “What the hell is that?”

 “Something that will put hair on your chest,” Hogan teased.

 “No, shit.”

 Henry seemed to like that response; he laughed again then finished his mug.

 “How can you drink this?”

 He shrugged, then turned his body to you. You gave him a well-paced once over, taking in his furry winter boots, dark pants, and dark sweater to match the pants. Underneath the sweater, though, you saw peeks of a crisp white shirt. He dressed like he had money, you thought.

 “I have done it for half my life. I do not even feel the burn anymore. Do you know why he calls it Mistletoe Bomb now?”

 You giggled and nodded, pushing the mug away. If you drank that, you’d need to be carried out of here. As Hogan appeared to take the mug away, Henry reached for it, insisting he’d finish it while Hogan placed a beer bottle in front of you.

 “Would you like a straw?”

 You looked at Hogan as if he were crazy. Who drank beer with a straw? You shook your head and raised the bottle to your lips to take a swig. This was more your speed, not pure petrol.

 “So you are new in town,” Henry began.”

 “Kind of. My plane had to detour because of the storm, so here I am in a place I’ve never heard of and cannot figure out why.”

 “Is it strange to never have heard of every place in the world?”

 You thought about it for a moment as you took another mouthful of beer then nodded.

 “Yes. I’m from America,” you began.

 “Ah, American. Let me guess. Everything has to be discovered, and if it is not, then either it doe not exist, or it is being hidden.”

 You snapped your mouth shut. He’d guessed American thinking in one try. “Well, that’s not fun,” you added. Henry laughed and took his mouthful of fire.

 “I am sorry. I know America well,” Henry informed.

 “Oh, so you’ve been?”

 “No. I do not need to. I have spent my entire life learning it.”

 You looked back at him, confused by what he meant.

 “Every country gives lessons on other countries of the word, especially powerhouse countries,” he explained.

 “Well, your studies have paid off.”

 “Do you really believe that everything has to be discovered?”

 “No. where is the fun in that? I believe that the world has to have some mystery.”

 “Then welcome to Brexendor,” Henry said with a smile.

 “Brexendor. What’s it’s deal?”

 You leaned closer, resting your elbow on the wood of the bar as you watched him.

 “Deal? I am afraid I do not understand.”

 “What I mean is, the people are nice. Everyone I have encountered, including at the airport, is nice. You know airport staff can be so mean, but not here. The people who own the Inn I am staying at are so sweet. Even strangers I bump into don’t;’ seem to mind. Not to mention, this place has the whole snow globe effect down. It’s incredible. What is the deal? Is the president some fantastic guy who pays everyone well and gives them ample vacation time for them to be so happy?”

 Henry smiled, dipped his head lower, then rubbed the back of his neck.

 “Would that be unusual?”

 “Yes. Compared to what America has going on—highly unusual.”

 “Well, the first thing to know about Brexendor is, a president does not run it,” Henry clarified.

 “Ah right, it is a monarchy. So does that mean there is a king, and queen, lords, dukes,” you began, then gasped, remembering more. “Princesses?”

 Henry smirked, gulped his drink, then nodded. “Yes.” He continued to take another swig from his mug.

 His words slowly resonated. “What!? You’re serious?”

 He nodded, then placed the glass onto the bar.

 “Wow. How interesting. So this King and Queen are they the good kind?”

 Henry’s smile turned somber before it disappeared altogether.

 “Did I say something wrong?”

 “No, no. Yes, the King and Queen are the best kind,” he filled in before he took the last mouthful of his drink. “They would like you.”

 You laughed loudly and shook your head. “Me? I doubt that. While all the mothers of my boyfriends have loved me, I don’t think the King and Queen would care for me.”

 “Boyfriend, so uh—you’re involved,” Henry said as he avoided your eyes.

 His words sounded like a statement rather than a question, so you remained quiet. After a few moments, he looked at you expectantly. You pinched your lips before you finished your beer.

 “Are you involved?”

 Henry took a deep breath looked forward to the bottles at the bar as a pained and confused expression washed over his features.

 “I’ll take that as a yes,” you replied.

 “I am not—involved,” he answered.

 “You said it like you weren’t sure.”

 “It is complicated.”

 “Well, I am a stranger in a bar—an empty bar. You’ll most likely never see me again, and I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

 Henry smiled then turned back to you, resting his elbow on the bar mimicking your stance.

 “You have not answered my inquiry.”

 “Inquiry?”

 Henry smiled again, then bit his bottom lip. That is where your eyes went to. He had nice lips, you thought.

 “On if you are involved,” he clarified.

 “I am not involved with anyone. If you ask my mother, she will tell you I’m an old maid with no prospects.”

 “I do not believe that. You are funny, intelligent, fun to be around, and quite beautiful. There is no way you have no admirers.”

 You smiled and began toying with your necklace.

 “I’m sure you say that to all the girls you meet in deserted bars during a snow storm.”

 He snorted, and you felt his breath across your cheek. It was then you realized how close the two of you were to each other.

 “To be honest, I have never found myself alone with a woman in a bar. You are my first.”

 You bit your bottom lip feeling more flirtatious than usual as you gazed into his hypnotizing eyes. He was gorgeous and becoming even more so with every passing minute. The two of you ordered more drinks, then drifted off to one of the booths on the wall that was more hidden and even more comfortable. You talked about nearly everything and nothing at the same time. He spoke a lot about philosophy and astronomy and the sciences that motivated a lot of the earlier theories. It was fascinating just listening to him speak. There was something about his mouth and the properness of the words he used. Never once did he use slang or even a contraction. You’d never met anyone who didn’t use contractions. The longer you sat there, the more you felt like never getting up.

 “There is something about you that is so comfortable and easy,” Henry began.

 “You too.”

 “I feel like I can talk to you about anything. I even want to.”

 You smiled, “You too.”

 Your eyes lingered, and you saw him sway forward, but then he stopped only to do it again and again. With your faces were centimeters from one another, it was then you noticed the slight speck of brown in his left eye. You felt Henry’s hand gently cup your cheek; then, his thumb slowly stroked your skin. The heat from his palm seared your cheek, and every stroke of his thumb send heat tendrils down your jaw to your lips, making them tingle and yearn for his.

 This had never happened to you in your entire life. You’d known this man a few hours and were ready to possibly bring him back to the Inn with you. Henry didn’t move. It was like he was giving you the last few centimeters to make a decision, but you didn’t make it. A phone went off, but you both ignored it until the sound went off. You raised your hand to rest on top of his. Once your skin touched his, Henry lightly sighed out. Before either of you could make another move, a phone rang again. This time Henry groaned before he looked away just as you did.

 You cleared your throat and slid from his body as he checked his phone.

 “I have to go,” he announced.

 Frozen, you sat there trying to understand if you’d read this entire thing wrong.

 “I am sorry, something—urgent has come up.”

 You snapped out of it, then nodded. “It’s fine. I should probably get back to the Inn anyway. They say a storm is brewing.”

 Both of you stood from the booth while straightening your clothes.

 “I really enjoyed tonight,” Henry added.

 You smiled and nodded. “Me too. It was—nice.”

 Your eyes lingered again, and your bodies drifted closer. It was you who looked away first and stepped back. You reached for your purse, but Henry stopped you.

 “It has been taken care of. Let us call it a tourist special, right Hogan.”

 “Right your--,” Hogan began before Henry looked at him, cutting him off.

 Henry ushered you to the coat rack on the wall by the door then helped you into your jacket.

 “Can I drive you back to the Inn?”

 “No, please. I am more than capable of getting back,” you assured.”

 “Are you sure?”

 You nodded then turned to walk out, but Henry pulled you to him. “I want to see you again.”

 “I don’t see how. I leave tomorrow as soon as the storm passes.”

 Henry looked to be thinking before he sighed. “I guess it was not meant to be,” you whispered, a tinge of sadness filling you as reality set in.

 “In another life,” Henry softly said.

 He came closer then placed a slow, chaste kiss on your cheek before he released you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, and in those moments, anything felt possible. When you faced that anything could have been possible but not for you, you sighed. A few seconds later, you turned and walked out of the bar.

Once outside, the rough wind caught you off guard. You took a few moments to bundle yourself, then continued walking back to the Inn. The swirling snow in the air made it a little challenging to see, but you tried the best you could. Several times, the wind picked up and shoved you where it wanted, forcing you to grab on to something to hold until it passed.

 Suddenly a big gust of wind blew you to the right and knocking you off your feet to roll for several feet. When the wind slowed, you rolled over onto your back to spit out the mouthful of snow that you’d managed to ingest. It took you several tries to stand, but when you did, you tried to see where you were and what direction you needed to walk in. That was when the wind picked up again, making you scream. When you turned, you saw two headlights coming right at you, then all you felt was pain before you were out cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[thefanficmonster]

More Than You Know

The Curator (The Dark Pictures Anthology) & Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Comfort Fluff

Summary: When university stresses get to you, you can only face them properly if you have a helping hand of a good friend to help you stand to your feet no matter how many times you’ve been knocked down or discouraged.

Requested by 💀 Anon. Hi dear! I know you’ve been enjoying my fics for our ominous Curator so I hope you enjoy this one just as much as the previous. That is if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it. I don’t blame you if you haven’t it’s been a long wait but if you have indeed stuck around - please enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

Seeing the flurry she was when she basically barged into the Repository, he knew right away he was no match for her force and didn’t even make an attempt to stop her when she took off on the impossible adventure of looking for a on her own. Truth be told, she is yet to even take proper notice of his presence, but he doubts she’d ask him for help even then. She’s a pile of pride, self-encouragement and curiosity, and though that’s a firm building of emotional stability at a first glance, it’s fragile and easy to knock down. All she is relies on her mind and skills and as little as one bad day could send her crumbling and spiraling downwards.

And Lord knows he’d never let that happen.

He’s given her the space her and her haywire mind clearly need right now, taking after cleaning the messes she makes behind herself after looking through individual shelves for something he’s yet to understand what. To be perfectly honest, he’s not even sure she knows what she’s looking for, but he wouldn’t dare say it to her, not when she seems one thread away from snapping completely.

With the third pile of books on the floor cleared up, each book placed in its previous spot with care, the Curator walks over to his luxurious, old-timey desk near which Y/N dropped her bag upon entering, some of its contents spilling out onto the floor. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now that he has, he’s taken it upon himself to clean it up as well and store all the items and the bag somewhere safe as to avoid the risk of her losing something important. She’s already stressed enough as it is, he’s afraid of finding out how another inconvenience will affect her already unstable mental state. Kneeling down to lift the bag as well as the two folders that have fallen out of it, he can’t harness his curiosity before he opens one of them and looks through the lines of handwritten text looking back at him, some jumping out thanks to a coat of highlighter signaling their importance. The folder’s pages, in contrast to it’s cover, is vibrant and colorful as a result of the many lines highlighted and underlined with colorful pens. That sight alone speaks volumes about Y/N’s personality - vibrant, colorful, cheerful, but with a few shadowy and dark spots here and there. Every person has them, and for her they are the result of her need to achieve more and more, a result of her inability to be satisfied with how much she’s done for herself, her career and for the people in her life. Her flaw is that she wants to be flawless. But no one can achieve that, of course. It’s not like he hasn’t tried to explain that to her, but his attempts have proven to be hopeless, rendering him overall helpless whenever she gets like this - in need of being in control of her destiny completely.

Yet deep down inside she knows she’s not nor will she ever be.

Apparently, she’s already come to this realization, as evidenced by the soft spots coming from the next room over where she had moved her scavenger hunt.

Without another second to waste, the Curator sets the bag down on one of the chairs before quickly making his way through the doorway and into the wide open room with books lining all the walls from ceiling to floor. There he sees Y/N sitting on the floor, surrounded by books she’s trying to put into small neat piles while trying and failing to stifle her sobs of exhaustion and disappointment. Sobs that tear his heart to pieces.

“Y/N...“ He approaches he cautiously as though she’s a wounded wild animal, “Mind telling me what’s going on? I don’t know how to handle the situation if you keep me in the dark, you know?“ He finally settles on saying, afraid he might hit a nerve by using the wrong terminology in his expressions.

Y/N wipes the tears from her cheeks almost angrily. Not angry at him, but at herself, that’s perfectly evident. “See, that’s the problem. I’m tired. I’m tired of so many things, some of them aren’t even related to one another. Like, I’m tired of having others handle my situations and deal with me.” She motions toward him with and almost limp with exhaustion arm, “I’m tired of university and my studies, they drain the life and the will to live out of me.” She motions to the books surrounding her. “I’m tired of being a nobody. You know, the typical stuff.”

“The stuff you always sweep under the rug, you mean?“ He questions, not allowing himself to dwell on her words long enough for them to hurt him too much, “You see, none of the things you just counted down would be big problems if you looked at them differently.“ He kneels down opposite her, taking the book she’s holding from her and taking  hold of her hand instead, causing her to look him in the eye. “For starters, you’re not a nobody. You’re Y/N Y/L/N, someone who has more determination than all the people I’ve met in my life combined. And trust me, I’ve met plenty of people.“ He nods knowingly at her before continuing, “Secondly, I can’t recall a single time I’ve done something for you. You never allow me to, in case you’ve forgotten.“ He points out, raising his eyebrows to put extra emphasis on his point, earning him a small laugh from the teary-eyed girl, making him smile, “You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. You know a lot more than you know. You have the ability to do a lot more than you think you can. But, it’s a slippery slope - you need to remember you’re not superhuman. Chasing that image of perfection will drive your sanity off the ledge and send you in the complete opposite direction of perfection. So, why don’t you stay what you are and do the best with what you possess and what you’ve been given. Stay human, Y/N. Lord knows I wish I was. I wish I knew what that felt like.“

The two stare at each other in silence for a few moments, one confused and the other shocked. Y/N’s confused by what he’s just said, not sure she’s grasped the meaning of his words correctly and the Curator is dumbfounded he said that. He’s never thought he’s say it, never thought those words would leave the confinement of his mind, but now they are out in the open, much to his dismay. All he has left to do is pray she doesn’t think much of it.

Luckily, she doesn’t.

“You’re so ominous and weird sometimes.“ She scoffs, shaking her head, pushing one of the book piles to the side.

Covering up a sigh of relief, the Curator springs up to his feet, offering her his hand to help her to her own. She gladly takes the offered helping hand and stands up, dusting her jeans despite there being no dust on them. There’s never dust on any surfaces in the Repository.

“Alright, now, what was the reason you felt the need to ransack my dear Repository?“ He asks in a mock-offended tone and a furrowed brow.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “I have a paper I need to write by the end of this week. You know me, I like outdoing myself, so I started being a little...frantic.”

He hums, nodding sarcastically, “Ah yes, frantic. Well, seems like this book you’re looking for is not a specific title, is it?” She shakes her head, “In that case, we better go on this scavenger hunt together, don’t you think? I mean, two pairs have more insight than one, two brains work better...”

“Ok, ok, I get it.“ She laughs, cutting him off, “I accept your help, but just this once.“ She points a warning finger at him.

He can’t help but smile at her, “Progress. Come on, let’s find your book.”

Just as he starts to turn around, he feels Y/N’s fingers wrap around his wrist, stopping him mid-motion. He turns back to face her but has no time to question her actions because, before he’s even processed any of it, her arms are wrapped around him, in a tight embrace. “Thank you.“ She whispers to him and lets go of him just as quickly as she had initiated the hug, turning on her heel and walking off further into the heart of the room, leaving Death himself speechless behind her.

Only Y/N Y/L/N can do that. And yet she still has the audacity to say she’s a nobody.

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