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andreafmn · 1 year

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Speak | Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.6K Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf. Chapter: 9/? A/N: one day I'll upload early, y'all. but I am truly trying to keep to the schedule I posted, as hard as it is. But thank you for bearing with me. You guys have no idea how much it means to me 🥰🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Taglists for Twilight get filled quick and Tumblr only lets me tag up to a certain point. Notifications are your best bet.

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Chapter 9

The Swan sisters had been raised with a misconstrued idea that the new year meant a fresh start, a clean slate. That it could magically erase any and all afflictions the year before had caused. That it truly was the first page of a new chapter.

And maybe that’s all that (Y/N) was hoping for that New Year’s Eve. That the coming year would be the first page of her new chapter in Forks. That whatever was happening with Paul would die that December night. That Bella would finally turn over a new leaf and forget Edward. That she could move forward with her relationship with Jake.

Because that’s what she wanted.

That’s what she had always wanted.

The thing she most needed was to get over whatever fluke it was that had made its way into her life. Whatever breach into her timeline that had decided to make her heart flutter out the sound of someone else’s name. It had been too sudden and unexplainable to not be a mistake.

Paul Lahote had no business settling into her heart in the way he had, and she would stop at nothing to pluck him as quickly as he had attached himself. Even if she looked forward to seeing him in her dreams at night, even if her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of him, even if all she wanted was to get as close to him as possible.

(Y/N) wanted —at least she thought she wanted— to go back to being excited that Jacob had finally set his sights on her. She wanted the same thrill she got about Paul with Jake. He had been the crush that had withstood the trials of time. It could not be trampled over by a guy she barely knew.

Yet, she could not stop thinking how his favorite color was red, how he moved to La Push after his parent’s divorced when he was eight, how he didn’t remember much of his mother even though he had been old enough to, how he had never been in love but desperately wanted to know what it felt like. (Y/N) could not stop picturing the way his eyes would shine under the warm glow of the setting sun, how his smile would grow as he listened intently to every word she spoke. Nor could she shake off the feeling of his warm skin against hers, how soft his hands had felt where she believed they’d be rough and calloused. He was everything and nothing like she had thought, but she knew that was as far as she could go to know him.

“Well, don’t you look mighty nice?” Charlie’s voice broke his daughter out of thought. “I think you’ve been to more bonfires this month than I have been to in years. People might start forgetting the sheriff’s face around there.”

“I doubt that’s even possible, dad,” she chuckled, smoothing over a piece of hair that had been unruly for the better part of the day. “Really wish you could join us, though. Since Bella won’t be making it out there, I wanted a Swan there for moral support.”

“This about that Paul fella?”

The question took (Y/N) aback. She had thought no one but Jake knew about that whole fiasco, and she was certain he had not said anything to her dad. “How do you…?” she stammered.

“Bella muttered a thing or two about him. Said he was the one you had been with the other night,” her father said. “Something happen with you and Jake?”

“Nothing happened,” she muttered. “I’m just making new friends seeing as my stay in Forks might be longer than anticipated.”

“Well, that’s a good idea. Just be careful of the people you keep in your company.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Jake might have mentioned this Paul Lahote character is not the greatest influence,” Charlie added. “He thinks he might not have the purest of intentions with you, (Y/N). I just don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

“Well, I can tell you right now that you have nothing to worry about,” (Y/N) smiled comfortingly. The last thing she wanted was for her father to worry about her when his other daughter was still no more than a statue in their home. “I have only hung out with him that one time and I don’t think it’ll happen again. But thanks for checking in.”

“Just wanna make sure your transition back here is as smooth as possible, kiddo,” he responded warmly. “I know it’s gonna be hard to settle back here after being with your mom for so long. Forks might be a bit slow but it’s truly home.”

“I’m actually excited about staying. Even if it wasn’t the plan originally, there’s something about this town that’s just begging for me to stay,” she confessed. “Even if I came to help with Bella, I’m glad I decided to stay. It will also keep mom from taking us both back to Florida —at least for a while.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” The older Swan said before she nodded in response. “I’m just glad you two wanted to spend time with your old man. Even if I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You’re doing good, dad,” (Y/N) chuckled. “I will say you got the shortest end of the stick having to be the one dealing with this breakup but I know you’re doing the absolute best you can. Hopefully, this new year brings us all the fresh start we so desperately need.”

“I hope so too, kiddo,” he sighed in defeat. “But have fun tonight, (Y/N), and make good choices.”

“Have I ever done anything else?”

“Very funny, kid,” Charlie chuckled. “Well, I’m off to work. I’ll probably not be here yet when you get back, so happy new year, (Y/N). And have fun.”

“Happy New Year, dad.”

Everything in Forks seemed to move at a punishingly fast pace, even if at times it felt like the town was stuck in time. But (Y/N) had been there almost four weeks which had already felt like a lifetime.

In comparison to living with Phil and her mother, in the midst of travel and adventures that she had loved for a time, (Y/N) had forgotten the calmness of remaining stagnant, of going to sleep and waking in the same home. She had forgotten what walking the halls of a school felt like, of having a group of friends that lasted more than a year.

Forks would give her that opportunity, or at least she hoped it would. The town had already started to change her and given her more than she could’ve hoped for. And that night she truly believed would set everything in the correct motion. Everything she had wished for with no more flukes.

An hour later and from the street she heard the honk of a horn. She gave herself a once over, not feeling completely comfortable with the way she looked that night. In part, she felt it was merely the nerves of seeing Jacob after the altercation with Paul.

But there was another part, the bigger part, that knew it was because of Paul. There was a calming thrill to him that she couldn’t explain. Even the juxtaposition of the thought made no sense to her. As much as she wanted to stay away from him, she wanted to get closer. It scared and excited her all at once.

Yet, the person that was waiting for her was not him. It was Jake, waiting impatiently behind the wheel of his truck.

“What took you so long?” Jacob grumbled as (Y/N) got into the car. “We’re already late as it is.”

“Sorry, Jake. I couldn’t find my jacket.”

“It’s fine, (Y/N). It’s just that Quil came back from his trip, and I wanted to catch up with him before school starts,” he said. “I also haven’t seen Embry since last weekend since he was with his mom visiting some family.”

“Yeah, I get that,” (Y/N) responded meekly, sinking into her seat. “At least we have the rest of the night to hang out with them.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he smiled forcefully. “What about Bella? Is she not coming?”

“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “She wasn’t up to coming. Still bummed about this Edward guy.”

“What a shame,” Jake sighed. “Being around people would be good for her.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she mumbled. “But I can’t really force her. This guy did a number on her and nothing dad and I are doing is working. I’ve even decided to…”

“Maybe you guys don’t know her as well as you thought,” he blurted. “I mean, no offense but she’s not the same girl that left Arizona. She’s not even the same girl that came to Forks.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help her, Jake. And that’s what we have been doing this whole time. Still, we can’t help someone that doesn’t want to help themselves.”

“I’m not trying to start a fight, (Y/N),” he grumbled. “I’m just saying that maybe your efforts have not worked because she’s not the same Bella you knew.”

The girl remained quiet, anger filling her body instantly. Bella remained a sore subject in the new relationship, always being brought up by Jacob, reminding (Y/N) that he had liked her sister first –and, deep down, she knew he probably still did. Still, wanted to remain in the delusion that he had chosen her for as long as she could.

“It’s fine. Let’s just drop this, okay?” (Y/N) pleaded. “I just want to enjoy tonight. Please.”

“Alright, yeah. Whatever.”

The rest of the ride went by in silence, a heavy tension filling the air and suffocating her. At that moment, more than ever before in her life, she needed to believe that the new year was truly a fresh start. A new beginning for her sister, a new beginning for her relationship, and a new beginning for her life in Forks.

As soon as the truck rolled to a stop, Jake was out of the car and heading to the beach, mumbling something to (Y/N) that he was gonna see his friends and that he’d catch up to her soon enough. Then, he left her in between the small sea of cars that lined the border of the beach.

The younger Swan was left dumbfounded, completely perplexed at Jake’s reaction. His outburst had made her feel small and unwanted. And as she stood frozen at her spot, watching the community celebrate before her, she wondered if there was any reason for her to be there. Because maybe the best thing she could do, for everyone, was leave.

“I’m glad you came, (Y/N),” a voice startled her. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Paul, hi,” she blushed, looking down at the black jumpsuit she wore under a white coat. “Thank you. You look great too. Especially with my sweater.”

“Oh, it was cold tonight and it was the first thing I grabbed,” he chuckled. “I promise I was gonna bring it back to you, not use it like it was mine.”

“Honestly, it looks better on you than it does me. Sometimes I feel like I drown in it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Your look great in a paper bag,” he grinned. “But I really am glad you came tonight.”

“And why is that, Paul Lahote?”

“Because I wanted to apologize for the other day. I never wanted things to end the way they did,” he said. His eyes searched hers in the darkness, wanting nothing more than for his hands to reach her, to feel her skin against his once more. “I’m sorry if I caused any trouble between you and Jacob. The last thing I would have ever wanted was for you to be blamed for my actions. You don’t deserve that.”

“Thank you, Paul,” she smiled, her hand unconsciously reaching for his, giving it a comforting squeeze. “But it’s not your fault. I was the one that agreed to spend time with you knowing that Jake would blow off the handle. If anyone is to blame for what happened that night, it’s me.”

Paul couldn’t help himself as his free hand flew to rest on her cheek, cradling her face in a soothing manner. “Nothing that happened was your fault, (Y/N),” he said. “Jake simply showed you who he is. You never did anything wrong. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

In that split second, (Y/N) remembered Jake’s words. She broke away from his contact, as though his touch had burned her skin, turning away from the enchanting trance his eyes held over her.

“What’s wrong?”

“It's just that Jake said something about you and… your past,” she sighed. “He said I was just an attempt to make your body count higher.”

“I hope you know how untrue that is,” he said, seething on the inside but not daring to show it to her. “You are special, (Y/N), and I would never do anything that would make you feel otherwise.”

“But why, Paul? What is so special about me? To everyone, I’m just Bella’s little sister.”

“You have to know that that is the least interesting thing about you,” he said. He reached out to her, needing to look her in the eye again. “You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re smart and witty. And that’s merely the tip of the iceberg. I may not have known you for long but I know there’s so much more to you than you let on. And all I’ve wanted was to learn about those parts that you hide from everyone else.”

“I still don’t know why!” (Y/N) responded, frustration pooling beads of tears in the corners of her eyes. “How can I trust someone that somehow says everything I want to hear but won’t give me a straightforward answer? Why me, Paul? Out of all the people in the world, why do you want to know me?”

At that moment, he felt he would spill everything. He wanted her to know just why it was her, why the universe had decided that it had to be her. Paul wanted to confess what bonded them and would keep them for the rest of their lives.

And he would have, but the fear of putting her in any danger could not let him say the words. He could not bring himself to utter any of the words that would throw her life up in shambles. “Why not you, (Y/N)?” he asked her, biting his tongue to keep what he wanted to say from spilling. “Is it so hard to believe that I could have seen you and be intrigued by you?”

“You saw me for a split second, Paul. Someone you’ve never known of cannot be worth all this trouble.”

“You are worth it, (Y/N).”

“And you are frustratingly vague,” she finally cracked a smile. “Why can’t you just answer me? What is it that you’re hiding?”

“You’d never believe me if I told you,” he copied her smile. “And isn’t a little mystery fun?”

“It could be if it didn’t get me in trouble with my boyfriend.”

“That could be fixed by breaking up with him, you know,” Paul teased. “A lot of things could be fixed if Jake was gone.”

“Are you threatening my boyfriend, Paul Lahote?”

“I would never,” he laughed. “But I still believe that he doesn’t deserve you, (Y/N).”

“Will you ever let that go?”

“Don’t think I can.”

And maybe she knew he was right but it was too hard to admit it, to him or to herself. She had wanted Jake for the better part of her life and one night could not change that. She wouldn’t let it. “Then you’re gonna have to if there’s ever gonna be some sort of friendship between us,” she said. “Might be hard to spend time with someone that’s always trashing their boyfriend.”

“I mean, you’ve only got a couple more weeks before you have to go back to Florida, right? I think I can control myself in that time.”

“Actually, I decided to move to Forks with my dad,” she smiled. “Bella isn’t getting better and I’ve honestly gotten attached to this town. It might be that some people have made this place so enchanting.”

“Then I guess I’m gonna have to work harder on pretending that I like Jake,” he grinned. “But I am glad you’re staying. The town wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I’ve only been here for three weeks, Paul,” she laughed.

“And nothing has been the same since.”

“You’re something else.”

“I could say the same about you,” Paul added before noticing Jared calling him over. “And on that note, I will have to leave you. I’ve got a couple of things I have to do. But not before you give me your phone number.”

“My number?”

“That way I’d we ever wanna see each other it doesn’t have to be by me showing up at your house or running into each other at a bonfire.”

“Right,” she chuckled, handing him her phone. “That’s smart.”

“I’ll see you around, (Y/N),” he smiled before kissing her on the cheek and disappearing down the beach.

As soon as he was out of sight, (Y/N) looked around, hoping that no one had witnessed what had just happened. As innocent as everything could have been, in such a small town, everything was known.

Once she had calmed down, she finally walked toward the commotion of the beach. Feeling as confused as she had been since meeting Paul, but at peace. Being around him made her feel serene, tranquility spreading through her veins. Though he made her heart race, he didn’t make her chest feel tight. It was a feeling that made her feel equal parts uneasy and calm.

“Where were you?” Jake asked as she joined him and his friends, a hint of annoyance dancing between his words.

“Just around,” she smiled. “I was actually planning to get something to drink. Do you guys want anything?”

“We’re good,” Embry smiled kindly. “But thank you.”

“Just hurry,” Jake added before becoming more interested in the conversations he was having before she had gotten close. “And bring me back a water, thanks.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

(Y/N) left him quickly, needing to compose herself before heading back toward him. She could feel how annoyed he was at her. Ever since that afternoon with Paul, Jake had become distant and rather cold toward her but she could understand why. As much as it pained her, she knew why and that she had to do something to make it up to him while keeping what angered him a secret.

“It’s good to see you around, (Y/N),” Billy said as he joined the girl’s side at the refreshment table. “I was wondering when I would see you again.”

“Hi, uncle Billy,” she smiled. “I’ve been meaning to go by the house but I’ve been busy these couple of days.”

“And things have been heated between you and my son.”

“How did you…?”

“Small town,” he smiled softly. “But I’ve already had some words with my son about his behavior toward you. It was completely unacceptable.”

“It might have been an overreaction but it was warranted,” she said looking down. “I knew what I did would anger him but I still did it.”

“That doesn’t mean he can chastise you in the middle of town. My son is young and can be quick-tempered,” Billy sighed, taking one of (Y/N)’s hands in his. “He says and does things that he doesn’t know he will regret one day, and you don’t deserve to be in the receiving end of that.”

“Thank you, Billy,” (Y/N) smiled, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “But I’m sure he’s sorry for that night and we’ll work through it together.”

“You know, I love my son, but he can be quite stubborn when he wants to. Even at his own detriment. Still, I hope this new year brings you both clarity and growth. Both personally, and if the gods want it, in your relationship as well.”

“I hope so too, uncle Billy.”

“My son is lucky to have you by his side. Even if he doesn’t know it.”

(Y/N) felt a new surge of confidence as he joined Jake and his friends once more. Knowing Billy was watching her back made her feel stronger about her relationship with Jacob and that it was worth investing her heart and time into. She knew her heart yearned for Jake and all she felt toward Paul was a strong sense of friendship.

As the hours passed and the tension between her and Jake seemed to dissipate, her resolve simply solidified itself. She would do anything possible to fix her relationship with her boyfriend and keep her friendship with Paul separate from Jacob.

But there was the smallest part in her that replayed Paul’s voice. He kept telling her how she deserved better and that Jake was not the right person for her, even if that was who she had wanted for so long.

Still, when the clock struck twelve, Jake was the one she kissed, and wished things would work out between them. She wished for him to only see Bella as a friend and finally give his whole heart to her. Wrapped in his arms as they cheered the new year, she begged the universe to give her the chance to have everything she had wished for.

Yet as her eyes found Paul’s in the crowd, she doubted if it was what she truly wanted or if she was holding onto a silly childhood dream.

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doxypsychlean · 2 years

Note

is there a part 2 to Strong maybe bit of smut

Strong pt.2

Aegon ii Targaryen x Strong!Reader

Previous chapter: Strong pt.1

Warnings: Targcest, Explicit language, NSFW content, Blood, Aegon beats up Aemond(not that bad, I swear)

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

Additional info: Instead of Rhaenyra escorting the Strong fellas back to Dragonstone, they all stay in the Red Keep(just imagine it for a sec that Alicent begged her ass off and got Rhaenyra to stay, cs she wants to spend more time w her(this is my fkn world and in it, these two make up idc)

A/N: Ooop, here it fkn issss!!! Ngl, I was cackling like a middleschooler while writing the spicy part of this one. Welp... Cheers, you horny bastards!!!

P.S. I fkn lied, this is nowhere near close to the req. Sorry, dear Anon.

A choked up sob came out of the Prince's mouth as he rubbed the linen washcloth over the bitemarks on his neck. Tears welled up in his eyes, but Aegon was quick to blink them away, before the woman could see.

She was sat across him, on the edge of the bed, watching him as Aegon dabbed away the blood. She was already dressed, in a long, bell-sleeved green gown that showed off every curve of hers. Aegon sneaked a glance at her deep neckline, then quickly averted his eyes.

The woman noticed it immediately, eyes never leaving his face. She ran a soft hand over her shoulder and pushed her long, dark hair out of the way, so it could trail down her back.

"Our mothers, along with your sister, Baela and Rhaena are in the gardens." She said, voice gone back to its usual cushiness. "They invited me to join them. I trust you will behave?"

The silver haired man flinched at her question. His hands dropped down to his lap, pulling at the washcloth as his eyes looked down at the dirty sheets.

Behave. Behave. Behave.

"Love?" Her eyes narrowed, word coming out rough and low.

Aegon flinched again. He looked up at her, head shaking up and down violently. She let out an amused hum, then got up on her feet.

"Good." She was now standing next to him, one hand reaching up to his face. She took in the angry bruise she'd awarded him with the night before. Then the faint imprints of her hand that covered his face, neck and chest. The rest staying hidden from her eyes by the sheet Aegon had covered his lower half with. "You're so good."

Aegon whined, the pathetic sound reverberating in his head. Before he had time to curse himself out for it, her fingers hooked under his chin. He turned to face her, hands clutching and pulling at the washcloth.

"My brothers are with Aemond and Ser Criston, in the training grounds." She said, thumb running over his bottom lip. "You'll join them."

It wasn't a question, but an order. One he wasn't brave enough to not follow. Not after the things his sweet,sweet wife had done to him throughout the previous night.

"That's it." The woman laughed out as she bent forward, lips meeting with those of Aegon. "I must go, my love. Get ready, then head down. You'll find clothes on the chair over there."

His pale eyes shot open, following to where her hand was pointing at. He nodded once more, head falling down after. The Prince put the washcloth on the nightstand as he got up.

Although he was a few good inches taller than her, Aegon felt incredibly small. Weak. Worthless. Undeserving.

He hissed as her hands wrapped around his wrists, successfully getting her to pull away. For a bit. Then she grabbed him again, this time much more gently, and brought them up so she could take a closer look.

The porcelain skin was now red and swollen. The ropes had left behind thin, angry traces where they'd cut in, marring the blank canvas Aegon was.

"I am sorry, my dragon." She whispered as she peppered his inner wrists with soft, apologetic kisses.

"It's fine." The Prince finally spoke out, his voice hoarse and trembling. He was smiling down at her, trying to bite back another hiss. "I...enjoyed it."

The brunette looked up at him, plump lips meeting with the red skin for the last time before she let go. Her arms wrapped around his neck, body pressing close to his.

Aegon rubbed his bruised cheek against hers, melting in her hands.

"My dragon..." She trailed off, pulling him impossibly close to herself. "I love you."

Aegon whined again, the tears now falling freely from his eyes. His hands reached for her hips, nails digging into the green silk of the gown that covered them.

"Say it again..." He was falling apart, body shaking with the intensity of the sobs that left his mouth. "Please."

The woman kept quiet. The fingers that were rubbing small circles on the back of his head, stopped moving.

"Please." Aegon needed to hear it. Especially after the cruel words she'd punished him with the night before. "Tell me you love me. Please."

Love me. Love me. Love me.

But she didn't say it. Instead, she unwrapped her arms from around him. The Prince almost fell to his knees at the loss of contact.

"Get dressed." She turned around, walking towards the doors of their chambers.

Aegon became painfully aware of the pitiful state he was in- naked, crying and begging, covered in endless amount of bruises, scratches and marks. He tried to put himself back together, to wipe the broken expression off his face. But there was no point.

In just a few hours, she'd completely destroyed whatever it was, that was left of the Prince. He had no ground to stand on. Not anymore. He could yell in her face, break her to pieces, even kill her. But she'd die, knowing she won. Knowing that she'd broken him in, taken him down to being this sad, miserable excuse of a person.

"I love you." Her voice reached Aegon's ears. "I truly do."

Then she was gone.

────────────

"What happened to you?" Aemond asked as his brother approached him. He lowered his sword, signaling to Criston he'd take a break.

The knight offered a small nod, then turned his attention to the younger boys who were standing off to the side.

"Got into some trouble last night?" The one-eyed prince teased.

Aegon's head shot up, eyes staring up at his younger brother in shock. How did he find out, he heard his trembling voice inside his head. His legs almost gave out at the thought of Aemond knowing what she'd done to him. His brother already looked down on him, what must he be thinking now, that he knew his big brother was used like a whore.

"Told you that you shouldn't be going out into the city alone..." Prince Aemond said, hand reaching for Aegon's shoulder.

Aegon bit down a groan as his brother's hand came down on one of the bitemarks. He shook his head, his usual smug grin coming back on his face to cover the pain.

"It was nothing, don't worry about it." A relieved breath escaped through Aegon's words. Fortunately, Aemond didn't notice it.

The long-haired man lowered his hand, eyeing Aegon up and down suspiciously. There was nothing out of the ordinary. His brother looked a bit tired, a bit disheveled. Nothing he hadn't seen before.

He looked away for a second, then his eye came back to Aegon.

"What in the Seven Hells are you wearing?"

Aegon was sporting a high-collared black doublet, black pants and leather boots. That's not what shocked Aemond. It was the red shirt that showed underneath the doublet. The red cord it was embroidered with. The three-headed dragon pin on his chest.

Then his eye trained on Aegon's hands. The ridiculously large gold ring was resting on his little finger of his right hand. On his left thumb, however, was a simple steel band ring. One that had the sigil of House Strong on it.

Aegon turned red as he noticed the way his brother was inspecting him.

"Leave it be." He whispered, eyes going back to their nephews, who were now swinging at Ser Criston. "It doesn't concern you."

Aemond wrapped one gand around the back of Aegon's neck, eliciting a pained growl from his brother.

"You didn't get that nasty bruise out in the streets, did you?" Aemond teased, eye darting to his brother now and then. "No shame, brother. I honestly expected for your Strong lady to put you in your place way sooner."

Aegon didn't dare say a word. He stood there, allowing his baby brother to make his cruel joke.

"Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond..." Criston's voice rang out. "Would you join us? We have to even the odds."

Aemond turned nodded, then took a step forward. He turned suddenly, spinning on one heel.

"Would anyone blame me if that little bastard lost an eye whilst sparring?" He said with that smirk of his. "Do you think your Strong lady will come after me, do to me what she did to you?"

And there it was, the straw that broke the camel's back. Aegon's back.

He lunged at his brother, knocking him to the ground. With his newfound strength, it only took a few blows to the face for Aemond to pass out, his head bouncing up and down with every hit.

Ser Criston, Luke and Jace reached them in no time. They tried to pull Aegon off, but the Prince simply refused to let go. The rage had blinded him, all he could see was his brother's bloodied face.

But it wasn't the cruel jokes. Nor was it Aemond threatening to take their nephew's eye out. It was him, suggesting that the Princess would put her hands on Aemond the way she'd done to Aegon.

That was for him. The pain, the humiliation,the punishment. All his. No one else's. His alone.

"Aegon!"

And just like that, Prince Aegon let go. He allowed for Criston to pull him to his feet and away from Aemond.

All his. No one else's. His alone.

He shook off Cole's hands, then turned to stare at her. Waiting. For her to storm over to him, and show everyone where his place was. To show to his mother, his sisters, his cousins, his nephews.

But nothing came. She stood there, at the top of the steps, staring down at him. One hand extended out towards Aegon. Drawing him, guiding him.

He didn't notice how Alicent ran past him, nor did he see how she dropped to her knees, next to Aemond's unconscious body. He didn't notice the scared and confused looks on his nephews faces or the way his half-sister, Rhaenyra, looked from her daughter to him with a smug grin.

All he could see was her.

Aegon followed the woman into the Red Keep and up the steps, towards their chambers.

────────────

"Why?" She asked, flopping down on the bed.

He didn't respond. Aegon was too busy trying to undo the clasps of his doublet to notice she'd said something.

"Come here..." She murmured, hand reaching out for him just like it had out there.

He heard her this time. Without wasting any time he strode over, only stopping when he had to look down to get a good look of her face.

They stood there like that for a bit, neither saying a word.

Then she spread her legs slowly, making room for him.

"Closer, I can't reach you."

The Prince took another step forward, now standing between her legs.

"I asked you a question." She said softly, fingers quickly undoing the clasps, then the buttons of his shirt. "Why did you do it?"

"He threatened to take your brother's eye out."

"I don't like it when you lie to me, Aegon." Her whole demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. There was no gentleness to her anymore. She tugged at the strings of his breeches, untying them with one swift move. "So why? I want the truth."

Aegon Targaryen had never shied away from a woman's touch the way he did when his wife's fingers ran down his happy trail. He sucked in a breath.

"He..." The Prince turned to look out the opened windows.

"What did he do?" She looked up at him, two fingers hooking at the front of his pants and tugging down.

"He asked if you'd do what you did to me, if he were to take his eye out." Aegon admitted, shaking his clothes of his body.

"And that made you knock Aemond out cold because..." The woman almost laughed at her own words. Aegon got him good, she couldn't deny it.

She watched as his breeches fell to the ground, freeing Aegon from the tight grasp they had on him. He let out a hiss as the cold air touched him, his already hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen.

Aegon looked away again, too ashamed of how much effect she had on him.

Two hungry eyes were staring down at the head of his cock, deep shade of pink and already leaking.

"Because...?" She teased, hand wrapping around him.

Aegon let out a deep moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His pale face was turning red, making the purple bruise on his cheek stand out even more.

He hissed as she dragged her hand up and down the length of his cock at a painfully slow pace. The soreness of the night before still lingered, making every inch of his body scream in agony. Still, he found himself coming to love the feeling. The pain. The humiliation. The punishment.

"Because I don't want you to touch anyone else the..." His breath hitched as the brunette bent down a bit and licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock.

She felt him twitch slightly, making her let out an amused huff. A shiver ran down Aegon's back when he felt her warm breath hit him. His hand came to rest at the back of her head, gently massaging the skin underneath his fingers.

The sensation of her wet tongue dissappeared once she reached the tip, leaving the man to thrust his hips into the air. Then her full lips wrapped around the head, her tongue circling around it. She let out a low hum, the sound reverberating throughout his whole body.

"I don't want you to do what you did to me last night to anyone else!" He cried out, almost toppling over at the feeling of her tongue rubbing over the slit of his cock. "Just me..."

Her lips left him with a loud pop, the woman laughing softly at it. She wiped away the mixture of precum and saliva from her lips as she looked up at him.

"Just you, my dragon." She said as her hands wrapped around his wrists gently, guiding them towards her shoulders. "Help me get it off."

Aegon looked at her with a dumbstruck look on his face. His confusion didn't prevent him from sliding down the garment past her shoulders.

"You're not angry at me?" He asked.

"Quite the opposite..." The brunette said as she got up, leaving barely any space between their faces. "I'm proud of you, my brave dragon."

Another whine escaped Aegon as he slid his hands down her body, ridding her of her green gown. He pulled her close, their chest pressing against together.

He hid his face in the crook of her neck, planting wet, needy kisses on the skin there. Aegon lifted her up, the woman wrapping her legs around his waist quickly. He climbed on the bed while still holding her.

"I'm so sorry..." He said as he pulled away to look at her. "About yesterday. I didn't mean it, I just wanted to get a reaction from..."

She cut him short, pushing him off of her and then climbing on top of Aegon. On hand reached up to cover his mouth, the other going to his throat.

"I know." The Princess said, grinding down on him.

Aegon moaned from behind her hand, thrusting up. The grip she had on his throat got stronger. He stilled, his breathing did too.

The hand on his face turned, until her thumb was pressing down on his lips. He opened his mouth, tongue swirling around the single digit, cheeks hollowing as he sucked in.

"So good..." She whispered, her other hand sliding down his body and dissappearing between them. "So fucking good. For me."

Aegon's eyes fluttered shut as she wrapped her fingers around his cock, head shaking up and down with a choked moan.

"So brave..." The woman raised up slightly as she guided his cock to her, rubbing it over her slick cunt. "My brave dragon."

He bit down on her thumb as the tip of his cock entered her. The woman hissed, but didn't pull away. Instead, she hooked her other fingers under his chin, then shook slowly.

"Try not to bite it off or I'll have to return the favor." She joked, eyes darting from him to where their bodies met.

Both let out a chuckle, the sound soon getting replaced by Aegon's whines.

"Move." He unwrapped his lips from around her thumb, teeth still holding it in place. "Please."

"As my Prince commands..." Her breath hitched as she slammed down on him.

Her free hand trailed back up and then down again, nails digging in. Soon his porcelain skin turned to an angry shade of red, blood prickling.

Aegon couldn't hold back anymore. His hips snapped up, meeting with hers. Her palm collided with his face. He bit down on the digit in his mouth again with another hard thrust.

Another slap. His cheek was staring to sting. Then he did it again.

"You're enjoying it, aren't you?" She hissed out as she bounced up and down.

Aegon hummed, tongue rubbing against the pad of her thumb.

She pulled her hand away from his face, his teeth dragging over.

"I want to hear you." She said as she dropped down to his chest, legs giving out. "Say it."

Aegon mumbled a few incoherent sentences before wrapping his arms around her waist tight. He set up a painfully fast speed, skin hitting skin as he chased his own high.

Her mind went blank at the first thrust, hands pushing up as she tried to pull away from his grasp. She almost slipped away, but Aegon was quick to follow her. His head dipped down, lips wrapping around one of her nipples. He bit down and then sucked in, just as she'd done to him the night before.

A hiss came from the woman. One of her hands sneaked over his shoulder, then pulled his head back by his hair.

A thin string of saliva trailed from his mouth and down to her bruised nipple. He offered a toothy, devilish grin before licking his lips clean.

"I'm close." She stuttered, eyes shutting tight.

Aegon laughed out as his bruised cheek came to rest on her chest, his eyes closing. He kept the same pace, the sweet aching in his hips coming once more.

"Princess, the feast..." The doors flew open, one of her maids barging in. "Oh, Gods!"

The girl left just as quickly, blush creeping up on her face.

"Don't stop!" She moaned out as Aegon's thrust stuttered. "Don't!"

He laughed again, hips snapping. Then he stopped completely.

"It would seem I still don't know my place, wife." He craned his neck up as his mouth left behind a hot, blazing trail from her collarbones to her jaw.

"You'll learn..." The woman looked down at him, hand going back to wrap around his throat. "...husband."

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #strong!reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #game of thrones #dance of dragons #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #accepting requests #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon the second #requests open #not safe fw #i laughed harder than i should have #sorry but I can't take this seriously #aegon targaryen x reader

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onsunnyside · 1 year

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I'm so glad you are having fun!

Could we hear something about the bestfriend curtis & ari? <3

thank you bestie and yes ofc !! prepare yourselves, this is basically a whole fic:

ok so i was thinking something like: at first, you were just Nat's best friend, then you got adopted by the whole group, and perhaps developed a little crush on Ari and Curtis (the certified plugs and rugby boys, built like tanks). you've seen them around since you have mutual friends, but you've never spoken more than a sentence or two to them (let's be honest, they're very intimidating). It's Nat's birthday so everyone goes clubbing and what do you know... you're running late so Nat sends Ari and Curtis to pick you up 😳 cue the awkward car ride.

the night ends at Nat's house and oh no, all the beds are taken? That's okay, Ari and Curtis offer to make some room on the tiny futon in the living room. you say, "I don't want you to sleep on the floor," so it's good that they manage to squeeze with you in between. now you're all cozy and snug between two beefy fellas, still drunk and high and trying but failing to pay attention to the movie on the television. you keep rocking your hips and shifting around, unable to forget how they passed you around in the club, kissing you senselessly and grinding against you.

Curtis' hand slips to your thigh, "you just can't sit still, huh?"

You shake your head, whining pathetically into his shoulder. "S-Sorry... I get horny when I'm high." Your body has a mind of its own and rocks into his hand, keeping it snugly against your clothed folds. "Please don't make me stop."

Rough fingers pinch your chin and turn you the other way, Ari's shaded eyes meet yours. "Where do you want my hand, baby?" You don't hesitate to bring his hand to your throat and he smiles, "atta girl. Quit being mean and touch her, Curtis."

so they play with you, Curtis rubs over your panties, telling you to make a big mess for them while Ari experiments with his grip on your neck, and spits into your wide-open drooly mouth. but poor little you, you're too tired !! too sleepy from partying for so long and it catches up to you. they chuckle as you go slack, quiet breaths puffing from your swollen lips. they get you all tucked in and not to be a total whore but... they kiss you goodnight.

You wake up trapped between them, your leg hooked over Curtis' thighs and Ari snug behind you. one thing leads to another and Ari asks if you want to continue, but you have different things in mind: "Can I taste you instead?"

so you kneel between his legs, still a lil drunk/high and mouth against his bulge, "I've never done this before..." you confess, pouting up at him, "can you teach me?"

and he does: "You can lick the tip, just get used to the taste." "T-That's good, yeah, you're doing great, baby." "Spit on it, I like it messy." He groans softly, his hips jerking when your saliva lands on the head before you smear it with your tongue. he wasn't expecting you to ask about his sack, "can I kiss you there too?"

Your nose rubs against his base, "you're s-so big. I love it." He doesn't hold back his moans as you suckle his balls, slobbering all over him, "Know you do—bet you're soaked, huh? Reach a hand down there and tell me how wet you are."

after he cums on your face and you leave to go clean up ("should I brush my teeth?" "Just rinse with water."), he lies back in contentment. "You can stop pretending now. She's gone."

Curtis' eyes shoot open and he grumpily flips around, "you could've tried to be quiet."

"And make her think I wasn't enjoying myself? No thanks."

i also had a few thots about dry-humping, some "better be quiet" fooling around in a washroom, and ofc naughty sexting 🌚

#thought of this while going home from the club #in the presence of family and friends #the sluttyness never rests #best bros ari and curtis #sonny drabbles #ari levinson #curtis everett #ari levinson drabble #curtis everett drabble #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson x reader #curtis everett smut #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader x curtis everett #curtis everett x reader x ari levinson

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precious-little-scoundrel · 6 months

Text

“Whatcha got going on tomorrow night?” Ann asks at last, sounding altogether too nonchalant.

Elaine's heart pounds and she purses her lips, sensing a game here. She’s so like Elvis, this new friend of hers, maybe that’s why Elaine gets butterflies in her belly at the chance to see and enjoy Ann, or when the telephone rings and it’s her sweet self sounding like she’s actually had to pace herself from calling Graceland when she knows full well Elvis isn’t home. She calls for Elaine, and something about that makes Elaine bite her nails and kick her feet.

“No, no I wouldn’t dream of it.” Elaine swears, “You just come by Graceland, stay the night, stretch your legs a bit, fill your belly, let me curl your hair.”

“And we can talk about boys.” Thumper agrees, like that’s her return currency for good southern hospitality…and it sorta is.

“Yes, we could talk about boys.” Elaine agrees with Thumper, both knowing that when they say boys, they mean boys such as Naughty, Widdle Fella, Elvis Presley and The Memphis Flash.

Elvis’ old logic that ‘it don’t count if its two girls’ when excusing a night of the three of them rolling in Ann's rough cotton sheets as soon as Viva Las Vegas wrapped, didn’t seem to hold up now. Now it very much did count that they were two girls. Two unsupervised little girls and he was relieved when little Jack stayed with them, but less so when he heard from Jack that they painted their piggies and arm wrestled in their nighties.

“I think we’ve really got his motor thrumming, Thumper.” Elaine feels safe enough to giggle and hears Elvis give only a heart rending:

“Goddamnit, whyyyy!” over the phone in reply.

“Need a defibrillator, boss?” she can hear Marty ask him and hears only petulant moaning about needing a wife in reply.

It did the trick, or at least, part of the trick. The trick of making the Presley’s feel connected to each other again and Larry agreed that it was good, a good step towards normality even if it was a little polyamorous and crowded for a typical marriage. Such phone calls made Elvis feel included and Elaine nearly re-besotted with a man who, when on the other end of a phone line ,sounded desperate and devoted, something her wifely self hadn't felt from him in a little while.

from: An Upcoming Sarge

#elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #sarge blurbs #sarge and lil mama #ann margret #thumper/naughty/tink #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis #fic #elvis and me #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fic #army elvis #elvis and priscilla #priscilla presley smut #priscilla movie #priscilla 2023

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theredofoctober · 7 months

Text

Shingleback— A Wolf Creek Darkfic

Mick Taylor x Virgin Female Reader

Synopsis: A road trip to visit relatives ends abruptly when Mick Taylor crosses your path

Trigger/Content Warnings: non con, violence, death (not reader)

Read after the cut

Smoke in your lungs, your mouth, in the porcelain shard of sky you see through the one eye not shut with blood. The air reeks of engine oil and char, and blackened flesh.

Someone is surely dead in the wreckage of the car, and you are not yet sure that it’s not you.

Footsteps, crunching through glass and stones. A whistle in the quiet.

Someone crouches over you at the side of the road, blinding you in a black trough of shadow.

“Fuck me,” he says. “Still breathin’. Ya got lucky. Your fella’s a goner, sweetheart.”

Fella.

Your father. He had been at the wheel, championing a road trip to visit obscure relatives, whom you’d never met, nor particularly cared to.

The drive had been harsh, all stark light and barren road.

Dread was in the yellow of the horizon. The air had hissed with its song.

“I don’t want to go,” you’d said. “I don’t know these people. It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. It’ll be weird.”

“Ah, it’ll be fine,” your father had replied, falsely jolly, consulting a map. “They’re all solid blokes. What are you worrying for?”

You rested your brow against the windowpane, soothing the beginnings of an ache.

“Just don’t feel like going. Can’t help worrying about Mom.”

The drive had continued in silence, for a time. Neither of you had wanted to reach for the radio.

“Yeah,” you father had said, at last. “Same here. But there’s no point stewing at home waiting for her, eh?”

You’d begun to answer, your words blown away in a gale of events.

Something had taken out a back wheel, then a front one. There had been something up ahead— a sign, you’d thought, and then the vehicle had been through it and over it and on its back, and burning.

You’d come loose from the car like a coin from a threadbare pocket, and now you’re lying in the silhouette of a man that smells like sweat and gunfire.

“Let’s have a look at you, then,” he says.

His voice is rough, friendly, salt of the earth. A working man’s accent. Trustable, if you did not know what he had done.

He brushes your hair back from your forehead, grunting at the cut that splits it like chopped wood.

“You’re gonna have one beauty of a scar if I don’t see to it. Looks like you’re coming home with me, love. I’m Mick, by the way. Mick Taylor. Nice to meet ya.”

You see the gun on his arm, know well that he put out the wheels.

Your lips part with a whispered rejection of his aid.

Mick scowls, his eyes squinting, all narrow malice.

“Eh? Listen, you can lie here like your mate there, or I can stitch you back together and getcha lookin’ decent. Choice is yours.”

The man chortles, a filthy, porcine sound.

“Just jokin’. I’m keeping ya. Know what’ll happen if you lie out here all night? Dingos’ll eat ya. Snakes’ll bite you. Either way, you’ll wind up fuckin’ dead, right. Don’t want that, do ya, Sheila?”

“My Dad,” you whisper—the fire has guttered your throat, leaving you with a geriatric croak. “He needs help.”

The figure leering over you shifts back slightly, and you glimpse his face. Sun-beaten skin, small, malignant eyes. Cleft chin. Hair grown down either side of his haw like chin straps, bookends for a blunt-toothed grin.

“Your Dad’s fucked, darlin’. Legs burnt off. Probably got one foot in the grave. Or not, eh?”

Another rattling laugh. You try to sit up, going limp under a wash of pain.

“Here ya go,” says Mick, helpfully turning you onto your side. “See for yourself. I pulled him out of the wreck, but he’s barely hangin’ on. Doubt he’ll see tomorrow.”

Your father slumps, a charred half-man, still in the road. All the heat runs out of you through your head, and you sit up as though from a dream.

One of your ears buzzes, an imagined sound. You will never quite unhear it again.

“Dad,” you say— your voice is still barely audible, even to you. “Dad?”

His mouth twitches, and you glance up at Mick, knowing you cannot go to him for help.

“Bugger’s alive, is he?” asks Mick, noticing the stir of movement. “Must be bloody sore. Better put him out of his misery.”

Concussed, you do not understand the statement until Mick strides across to your father’s body and hefts the gun.

Three shots ring out.

The dying man jumps and dances briefly, festooned in a display of blood. Then he falls, faceless, his head dangled on the blown-off reed of his neck, and you look at Mick with a hollow terror that makes you almost calm in its flat emptiness.

“Did you both a favour,” he says, all broad, square teeth. “Wouldn’t want him watchin’ what I’m going to do to you when I get ya back.”

You leave your heart there on the road, another burned, dead thing in the humming afternoon.

Mick takes you to the remnants of a mine, carrying you down into the dark across his shoulder, as he might hoist the body of a deer. The stench of rot and ammonia passes over you in an acrid haze. A menagerie smell, of human animals.

There have been others, held here. Others killed in the belly of the ground.

Mick sits you against the bars of an iron cage, pleased by your lack of resistance.

“That’s it,” he says. “Nice and quiet. Wouldn’t want to have to cut your tongue out. Can’t scream me name if ya can’t talk.”

He goes over you with brutish hands, looking for injuries. One wrist violet with bruising, both knees skinned, the slash across your brow: aside from this, and the concussion, you are otherwise unscathed.

“You must be made of rubber,” says Mick, as he cleans your wounds with a bit of murky alcohol on a rag. “One hell of a tumble you took, there.”

Thanks to you, you think, but say nothing, are still an hour back in time, watching your father’s body leap in the force of gunfire.

“So,” says Mick, sitting back to observe his work under the dim light. “What were you and your dear old dad doing here in Australia?”

You do not answer, owe him nothing, this shooter of men.

Mick’s face darkens. Reaching forward, he squeezes your sprained wrist until you cough up bile between your legs, black stars churning in the cell before you.

“Start talkin’,” says Mick. “I’m not pissin’ around.”

“Dad’s from here,” you choke out. “Was. We were going to visit family.”

Your captor grunts in disbelief.

“Doubt it. Ya talk like a Yank.”

The disparagement in his tone is a steel edge you know better than to touch.

“My Mom’s American,” you say. “I grew up there. That’s why I don’t have any accent at all.”

“Hmm.”

To your relief, Mick softens, seeming to regard you with a more favourable look. His eyes are small, light, with a cold friendliness about them that you might have liked, had he not introduced himself in such slaughterous practice.

His tone, too, is conversational, as though he did not wear the shrapnel of blood and bone upon him, still.

“Where’s your Mum, then?” he asks.

You look down at the bile cooling in the dirt, its bitterness another stink in the fetid gloom.

“She ran away.”

Mick’s smile hardens.

“Got sick of your Dad, did she?”

“No. She’s got mental health problems. She stops taking her meds. Runs off. Comes back a month or so later. Nothing we can do.”

It seems a trite conversation to share with a killer, but you will sustain it, if it distracts him from thoughts of harm.

“So your Mum’s left ya,” says Mick, “and your Dad’s dead. Halfway to being an orphan, eh?”

You wipe your face gingerly, appalled by the absence of tears, the correct emotion. Certainly you feel it, somewhere, kept as though beneath an upturned glass. But you cannot express it, though it may buy you favour to cry.

“Dad’s family are gonna worry about me,” you say, softly. “If I don’t turn up.”

Mick’s brow furrows. It is a mistake to threaten him, even so subtly as this.

“They can keep worryin’,” he growls. “Can’t send ya back, now can I? You’d go tellin’ everyone about what I’ve been doing out here. Can’t let ya do that, Sheila.”

You push your hands behind you, clinging to the iron ice of the bars until your palms burn.

“But I don’t know what you’ve been doing,” you say. “I don’t want to know. I’ll say I don’t know who attacked me and my Dad. I didn’t see your face. I don’t know your name.”

Mick moves towards you, and you shift along the side of the cage, your spine ringing across the bars.

“I don’t trust ya,” he says, quite pleasantly. “You seppos can’t keep your mouths shut for one bloody minute. You’d be spillin’ your guts before ya knew you were doin’ it.”

He takes hold of your right leg and hauls you towards him, scraping your back as your t-shirt rides up across the floor. A knife is produced from somewhere, an evil fragment of silver moonlight, and you gasp, rigid in anticipation of it against your throat.

“Don’t piss yourself,” says Mick. “I’m not plannin’ to kill ya after doin’ such a stellar job of cleanin’ your injuries.”

Knotting his fist in your shirt, he cuts it from your body, repeating the action with your ruined jeans. You don’t dare raise a hand to prevent him, seeing the proficiency with which he wields his blade.

“Oh no,” you whisper, pathetic in your dread of what he means to do.

“Figured it out, have ya?” asks Mick, and grins, one crude hand snapping the elastic of your thin undergarments. “What else would I do with ya? Didn’t bring you down here for a chat.”

You close your bandaged knees, but Mick snaps them tersely open, turning the knife under the light again until you slacken to his will.

If your heart beats quickly, you cannot feel it: you are numb from the head down, insensible. Staring through the man before you, seeing the darkness in him waver, a living shadow.

Mick crouches between your legs, his fingers upon you with a hostile agility. He watches your face closely, eating of even the merest gesture of your suffering.

“Fair warning,” he says. “I’m going to hurt ya.”

You’re dry when he enters you, but as his knuckles clench you’re quickly soaked, the sounds of your flesh awakening to him an echo in the mine.

Mick’s eyebrows jump in bald surprise.

“Strewth, you’re a bit of a dark horse, aren’t ya, daddy’s girl? Do ya always get this wet for blokes old enough to be your father, or just your Uncle Mick?”

His thumb roughs the jewel of nerves you’d hoped he’d avoid. You gasp strengthlessly, roll your head on your neck. Stare into the corpse flavoured dark; anywhere but his face, his eyes.

A blow to the face has you jolting back up like a roused snake, blinking, stone drunk with shock.

Mick leers down at you, his thick fingers still hooked through your cunt.

“Make some bloody racket, will you? I ain’t fuckin’ a dead sheila tonight. Would have left you in that burnt-out wreck of a foreign car if I thought you’d give up the fight this quick.”

You try to focus your stare, find the veins of your fear to bleed for him. The impression of Mick’s hand throbs across your eye, swelling the lid.

“Stop,” you rasp. “Stop it.”

Movement in your gut: a maggot of shame.

The old man smirks, and leans over you, his beer-musked breath making darts of the down on your bruised cheek.

“There ya go,” he says. “A bit of protest. I love it.”

He kisses you, forcing his tongue between your chipped teeth, all spit, and cigarettes, and drink. His thumb keeps up its relay across your clitoris, its callous tousling your silk. Cunningly, he hunts your climax, knowing he can turn it out.

Weakly, you scrape backwards on scabbed palms, Mick’s tongue still slid across yours. With a muttered oath, he kneels down on one leg, his weight a hanging rock.

“Keep your arse where it is. You’re comin’ for me, or I’m breakin' your fuckin’ legs, and I won’t be neat and tidy about it. Ya know what a compound fracture is, don’tcha? Bone through the skin, and a bastard to set right. Probably never seen one, a city brat like yourself. But you know what I’m talkin’ about.”

You watch his arm move, tanned tawny gold, bound in tattoos long faded by the sun, can’t look at his face in its ugliness and age, and slavering appetite. Sweat opals your forehead, and fevered shivers rip at you. Your mouth opens; the moan that drips free is someone else’s shame, a weak response to touch.

“You tourists are all the same,” says Mick, equally pleased and repulsed by the noise. “Whinge and whine about me putting me hands on ya, when all ya want under it all is a good root. I can feel you’re on the edge, orphan. Hips movin’. Hole squeezin’ down tight. Mind you don’t take me bloody fingers off, will ya?”

He chuckles, and brings his free hand to your breasts, pawing their flesh in his workman’s fist. The pain, the mockery— a signal crosses some incorrect road in your senses, for as Mick leans down to kiss you again you feel a tug of mad, sudden pleasure, casting itself through your loins and up into your mind like a flare thrown into the night.

His hand fucks you through it, pressing, relentless into your treachery. You break your fingernails on the filth beneath you, feel yourself torn, unwilling, from your distance like a marlin from the deepest sea. You breathe in sickly pants.

Savaged. Wounded.

“You’re a beauty,” says Mick, bringing his wet hand to his face to study its stolen glaze. “Take a look at the mess ya made. You oughta thank me, givin’ you a service like that. Half the time, I don’t bother. Just wanna get me dick in a hole and get to it.”

Sitting back on his haunches, he licks his hand, smacking his lips with a juicy pop. The noise—like gunfire, bullets in a tyre, in your father’s skull—startles you into action. The cage door is partway open; you lurch past Mick on your knees, all instinct, no thought as to what you’ll do beyond the mine.

“And where are you runnin’ off to, eh? Ya silly cunt.”

Mick is on your back in under a second, smacking the cage door shut on one of your outstretched hands. A scream evicts itself from you— parched, almost soundless, knocked back in by the blade Mick shunts beneath your chin.

“Told ya,” he growls, rutting against your hips for emphasis. “Either I fuck ya, or I kill ya, and I didn’t carry you all this way and stitch you up to finish ya quick. It’ll be slow and hard, and it’ll hurt. See how ya scream then, eh?”

“Please,” you say, to the knife as much as the man. “I can’t do what you want me to. I’ve never— I’ve never done that before. I’m scared.”

Mick puts the knife away and draws your head back to look you in the eye. His stare is hunger and dusk. Of hunting things in the desert.

“I know. Could tell you were a fuckin’ virgin. Bled on me hand, didn’tcha? Ain’t gonna stop me fuckin’ ya, though. Means I’ll be keepin’ you down here for a long time. Usin’ ya whenever I feel like it. But first, I have to break ya in.”

“Why?” you ask, as his belt buckle rings at your back, his shooter’s hands arrange you beneath him with the same familiarity with which he’d load his gun. “Why do you hurt people?”

Mick pauses, and when you glance back at him over his shoulder you see a real loathing sheen the vicious glass of his eyes.

“Because it’s what ya deserve. You, and all you cheap, noisy Americans, coming here, soiling my bloody land. Good thing you’ve got some Aussie in you, or I’d have to kill ya on principle. Not enough in you for me to turn ya loose, though.”

His knee opens your thighs, and you hear him clear his throat to spit in his hand, a home-grown lubricant. You stare at the bars of the cage until, in your vision, they smear into one broad stroke of rust. How cold the mine is, around you, in its coffin velvet darkness. All death, all hopeless night.

“Usually have to protect meself when I screw you tourist girls,” says Mick, conversationally. “Tend to be crawling with all sorts of nasties. But you’re clean as a whistle, ain’tcha, with a virgin cunt like yours.”

There is force at your sphere of heat, massive, bracing in the shoving pain that follows, the dirty grunts and curses blown against your ear like wind from some wretched sun-scoured isle. You dry heave across the dirt floor, spittle falling from the tip of your tongue in an unholy christening.

Surely you are baptised, now, by the way of brutality, a shingleback forced to mate, to exist beyond this point of anguish.

Mick’s hands punish your hips, their grip testing the joints. How comical he must look, plaid shirt pulled taut over his belly, the old hat still looming over his brow, with his untidy thrusts and growling breath. You know, as if by telepathy, how he savours the assault, how he sees himself the hunter, sinking his teeth into the meat of his quarry.

His cock beats a note of pain so close to pleasure that your nerves cannot mark the difference.

Perhaps it is easier, to take something from this agony, to find something amidst the fog. But then, perhaps you would rather it only hurt, a violence upon you, no different from the twisting of a spear up into your abdomen.

You’re wet as he fucks you, loudly so, the slick of it the music of the mine.

“Never had a girl drip on me cock like you, Sheila,” says Mick, slapping your flank heartily as he withdraws. “Let’s getcha on your back so I can have a look at ya.”

He turns you with a careless shove, snorting as you cover your eyes like a child afraid of the beast under its bed.

“Christ,” says Mick. “Can’t stomach seein’ an old bloke like me makin’ ya come? Probably finger yourself thinkin’ about some soft bloody film star. Well, you can get over it. You’re mine now, darlin’. Never lettin’ you go.”

He drags you to him by the hips, bending your legs back at such an angle you sense, with certainty, that he means to fill you to your greatest depth. You tense, try, with feeble hands, to push at his chest as he bears down on you again.

“Please,” you say. “Please, no more, please, please...”

Terror strikes through you in a fork of black lightning as Mick leans down, his eyes narrowed, hateful.

“Shut up,” he sneers. “Look down, ya uptight bloody American princess. You’re gonna watch me fuck ya.”

With a terse jolt he moves your head downwards. You see his cock in one tanned hand, pushing back into your ravaged entrance in one slow, mean thrust. Unnatural, the size of him, a surrealist nightmare depiction of male aggression.

The tempo of it drawing in and out of you may as well be the digging of a grave in all its dark purpose. Your breasts rise and fall with its movement, your skin awash in the hideous light shone down from the naked bulb overhead, the yellow of a cartoon sun.

You hear your own voice, disembodied, the chatter of a ventriloquist’s doll.

“Mick. Mick, it hurts.”

“Should bloody hope so,” he sneers, and he hits you; the rusty pain in that same abused cheek runs down your neck into your loins, and you are afraid of yourself as much as this monster, in your weakness.

You cling to Mick’s arms suddenly, which are firm from his grisly work, and he snickers.

“Like that, do ya? Never would have guessed it, to look at ya.”

He palms your chest, yellowed teeth bared as he rolls upon you, chafing your spine against the floor. His ugliness is your greatest shame, every line in his weathered face mocking you with its affront.

You cannot wrench your eyes away, staring up at him even as you wish only to turn to the dark. Ghosts seem to whisper to you from the corners, holding you accountable for the plaits of ecstasy that wind your cunt tight around your attacker.

You throb with the need of release, with its inevitable approach, uninvited.

He killed your father. He has raped and killed and rode his ruthless path through the Outback for decades, and you are going to come with him within you. Come from the chemical bewilderment of fear, and grief, and the force of him in the new wound of taken virginity.

If you survive him, it will be as a ghoul, undead, unfeeling. You yearn for him to return to the knife and end you, but you know from the glee in his eyes that he means to have you live as long as your flesh can withstand his horror.

“You’re a looker, y’know,” breathes Mick, putting a hand behind your head in a rancid performance of romance. “Scars and all. Give me a kiss, eh?”

He runs his tongue through your lips, and you gasp as a vent of andesite heat bisects you in your climax. Your enemy gives a throaty laugh, fucking you through each layer of orgasm until all that is left is the pain, and the width of him within you.

“Bet you’ve never come like that before, have ya?” he gloats. “Look scared to death. Jesus. I could fuck ya for days.”

But you feel his strokes taking an erratic quality, hear the shortening of his breath. He’s close, and you doubt he means to save you the dread of him finishing in your satin warmth.

Still, you beseech, feel at the very least that your begging will end this.

“Don’t... I mean, inside me, I...”

Mick smirks, gripping you by the chin to bring you eye to eye.

“Darlin’,” he croons. “I’m gonna be blowin’ me load in ya cunt until the day I kill ya.”

He licks your face of sweat and blood, and grips you to him as he reaches his bellowing crisis. You feel him pulse, the overflow of his spend trailing your inner thigh in its salt moisture, and close your eyes, stepping in to embrace your defeat.

Mick stands up, buckling his trousers, whistling a jolly, off-key tune. You lie as he left you, thinking of nothing, your mind and senses ground out into ash. Day in, day out, this is to be your life, whore to the devil of the land.

It seems that you died in the car, after all.

By God, you wish that you had.

---

Chapter Two is now here

#wolf creek #wolf creek fic #tw violence #tw noncon #dead dove do not eat #mick taylor x reader #mick taylor #darkfic

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scarletwritesshit · 3 months

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🍣 Kotone Shiomi x Shinjiro Aragaki 🍣 The Dreadful Secret of Shinjiro Aragaki

Shinjiro was in no rush to return to Iwatodai Dorm. Wandering the streets alone in the dead of night was something that he was, in fact, rather used to. With familiar sights all around him, Shinjiro felt strangely at home.

He pulled the worn leather watch out of his coat pocket, unable to see it in the darkness of the streets. Once he wandered beneath the light of a streetlamp, Shinjiro stood still for a moment to read the time.

10:58 pm.

As long as he gave himself some time to spare before the coming of the Dark Hour, he otherwise did not have to worry himself sick about the clock

Regardless, he had a nagging feeling that perhaps, he should attempt to return to the dorms sooner rather than later. Kotone was surely going to scour the streets to hunt him down, whether he liked it or not. He knew what that girl was capable of, and was confident that she could hold her own, but he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if she sustained even the slightest of injuries. God forbid another accident were to happen, it would be the final shot to Shinjiro’s heart before he would truly be unable to live with himself any further.

The more he thought about this plausibility, the further into despair his thoughts sank, so Shinjiro picked up the pace to focus himself on returning to the dorm in a timely manner.

With his hands in his pockets and his body slouched over, one could easily mistake him for a cryptid out for blood, when in fact, that assumption could not be further from the truth. Shinjiro wanted to prevent the chance of any blood being spilt, should him or Kotone get too careless. He took a deep breath and attempted to keep himself calm as he walked back to the dorms, but it would be a lie if he claimed that the lingering anxiety was not eating away at his thoughts.

Abruptly, Shinjiro stopped in his tracks when he heard a weak mew coming from down one of the alleyways. He remained as silent as possible for a moment, making sure that he wasn’t losing his mind and hallucinating. He heard a practically identical mew once again from the same direction, turning to look down the alley in response. The sight he was greeted with was a small, frail kitten.

It didn’t look like a lost pet gone astray. The kitten was weary of Shinjiro’s presence, had no collar, and appeared roughed-up and rather malnourished. In its current condition, he couldn’t just leave this poor kitten to rot. Shinjiro didn’t have it in his heart to ignore it, as he too, once found his life reaching such low points.

He crouched down and gently reached out his hand, attempting to show it that he was of no threat. It completely refused to approach him, but was most likely too weak to bolt away out of fear.

"It’s okay, little fella. I ain’t gonna hurt you," Shinjiro said, as gently as his rather rough voice would permit him to.

The cat sniffed his hand, but still backed up, clearly weakened with fear. Careful as to not startle it, Shinjiro gently took out his watch once more, moving it around until the light reflected just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the time. It was only a few minutes after 11, so if he was fast enough, he could at least secure the cat a meal to last it through the night.

"Hang tight. I’ll be back as soon as I can," Shinjiro whispered to it.

The cat looked up at him with helpless, desperate eyes, as if it understood his words, and even wanted to believe him, but its circumstances caused it to feel otherwise. Shinjiro stood up, and looked back at the cat one more time before bolting back the way he came down the sidewalk. Hopefully, he would luck out and a street market would still be open at this hour. Any of the popular restaurants in the area would be either closed or packed to the brim with guests, so there was no use in resorting to one of those. Though Shinjiro found the cat rather close to Iwatodai Dorm, he did not believe that he would have enough time to wait in a restaurant and be able to safely feed the cat. Especially with having to explain his late arrival to the others, Shinjiro would rather die than let this secret of his slip.

After some running, Shinjiro came across a sushi stall that still had its lights on. He silently prayed that someone would still be working, and its purpose wasn’t to serve as flashy light pollution.

He was in luck. An old lady was still tending to the stall, though it appeared as if she was packing up for the night. Shinjiro couldn’t see any other options in the vicinity that would have a chance at being open, so he had to try his luck at this stall right here and now.

"Please say you’re open, lady," he said, running up and slamming his fist down on the table.

"Goodness, me. Someone is hungry, isn’t he? I’m sorry dear, but I already put my equipment away for the day-"

"I ain’t worried about all that! I just need some fish!"

"Raw fish? Who needs raw fish at this hour?"

"I do! Er...my...friend does."

"Your...friend needs raw fish?" she asked, confused.

"Yes...they’re quite hungry."

"By any chance, would this friend of yours happen to be a stray cat?"

Shinjiro was left speechless. Of course, it was a little obvious, considering how he was specifically demanding raw fish, not a quick fixture of sushi prepared this late at night. Still, he was hoping that perhaps, he wouldn’t have to resort to exposing himself. Not like the woman would have a reason to collect any “dirt” on him, nor would she know anyone who would be interested in Shinjiro, but putting his true intentions into words still felt agonizingly awkward.

"Why didn’t you just say so, dearie?" she said, opening up the freezer and pulling out a slice of raw tuna.

"I-I’ll give you as much yen as you want! Just please give me the damn fish."

"Oh please, don’t worry about it. It’s not often a young gentleman as kind and caring as you shows up around these parts," she said, sliding him the tuna on a plate.

Shinjiro looked at the woman in disbelief for a brief moment, until she nodded her head in assurance. Shinjiro really did not have this much time to debate her, so he grabbed the plate of tuna and took off running back towards where he found the cat. He looked back for a brief moment and waved in thanks, before picking up speed.

"Stay safe now, dear!" the woman shouted to him.

Much to his relief, Shinjiro stopped to see that the cat remained in the same location where he left it. It was still visibly nervous, but Shinjiro didn’t have all the time in the world to gently coax it out. By now, it was likely nearing midnight, and there was a distinct possibility that Kotone had departed to look for him by now.

Shit.

Just a few minutes was all he needed.

He crouched down and presented the cat with the plate of tuna. It looked at him, and crept forward as if it fully intended to charge straight into the paper plate, but it held back. It was hesitant, still, to approach Shinjiro, even with a generous offering of food.

Come on, dammit. I ran halfway across town for this.

The Dark Hour was soon approaching and the fear of being discovered by Kotone was quite real. He tried holding out his hand to further encourage the cat, and it felt like forever before it finally gave into the temptation to sniff the tuna and devour it. Shinjiro breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the cat had another shot at pulling through, even if it did roam solo on the streets. He wanted to take the cat back to the dorms with him and give it a second chance at a better life, though he knew that Koromaru would likely be rather displeased with the intruder.

Putting his thoughts aside for a brief moment, Shinjiro smiled, and as the cat chowed down, he once more slowly reached out his hand to pet it. He gently scratched behind its ears, careful to not overstep boundaries so soon, but the cat seemed to not mind him handling it as it happily ate away at Shinjiro’s generous offering. Maybe this cat wasn’t truly hostile or cowardly at heart, but rather, was being driven to the edge by hunger.

"There you are, Shinji!" a familiar voice shouted.

Uh oh.

Shinjiro froze, his hand still on the cat’s head. He knew all too well whose voice that was, and he was quickly becoming far too embarrassed to turn around.

"Making some friends without me?" Kotone asked as she ran up to him.

"I swear, it’s not what it looks like, dammit!" he said, forcing himself to turn to look at her.

"Hmm…looks to me like you’re feeding a stray cat."

That was indeed true. There was really no other way to put it.

"Listen...it was gonna die if I didn’t do anything, okay? Not gonna just give up an’ leave ‘em to rot."

"What about taking it back to the dorm with us?"

"Cant. Koro-chan wouldn’t exactly be very happy with me.”

Kotone thought for a moment as Shinjiro pulled out his pocket watch. 11:48, it read. The clock was ticking, and although the dorm wasn’t far away, Shinjiro stood up out of alarm.

"We have to get goin’," he said. "Don’t want to get caught out here alone during the Dark Hour."

"Or could it be that you don’t want me stuck out during the dark hour?" Kotone teased.

"Whatever you want to think," he said. looking off to the side. "We could make it back in a few minutes with time to spare, so we don’t gotta take off too fast."

"Thought you said we had to get going, unless you just wanted to squeeze in a little bit more time with the cat?”

Shinjiro looked down at his newfound cat friend, who had finished eating. It looked up at him with wide eyes, flicking its tail gently. If Kotone were not present, he would not hesitate to scoop the cat up in his arms and tuck it away in his coat.

He said nothing about his desires, though Kotone smiled at him. She walked over to pick the cat up, and Shinjiro held himself back from pushing her away out of fear that she would accidentally scare it off. It tensed up a little, but relaxed once Kotone sat down and allowed it to sniff her for a moment. Shinjiro was absolutely baffled at how quickly it warmed up to her

"Ha, it must’ve already smelled my scent on you," she noted.

That was indeed a plausibility, as Kotone was quite physically affectionate with him, to say the least.

"Maybe..." Shinjiro said.

Kotone held out her arms, inviting the cat to come closer. Much to Shinjiro’s surprise, it walked into her arms, allowing her to scoop it up. As soon as she got ahold of it, however, she shoved it into his chest. Instinctively, he gently held onto it, and Kotone looked at him with a triumphant smile.

"It already likes us, so why not take it home?" she said, not exactly giving Shinjiro much of a choice.

"But, Koro-chan..."

"He’ll be fine. He’s smart enough to fight shadows, so learning to leave a cat alone shouldn’t be an issue for him."

He looked down at the cat, and it looked up at him and weakly mewed.

"Guess I really don't have a choice now do I?"

"Nope," Kotone said, tugging on his sleeve, "now come on, you adorable thing, Iwatodai Dorm isn’t far from here!”

“That adorable thing was forcefully put into my arms, Kotone.”

“I wasn’t talking to the cat, Shinji,” she said with a smile.

It took Shinjiro a moment to fully process her words, but once he realized that she was referring to him, and not the cat, he shrunk his head into his coat as much as possible in order to hide the embarrassment that was all over his face. With eyes adapted to the darkness of Tartarus, however, no amount of blush was safe from Kotone’s watchful eyes, daylight or Dark Hour. Convenient for her, not so much for Shinjiro.

Left without a retribution for the woman his heart was so weak to, Shinjiro, couldn’t really protest her now, especially if he did still intend to make it back in a timely manner. He held the cat close to him as if it were his own child as Kotone lead them back to the dorm, with mere moments to spare before the dreaded hour struck.

#persona 3 #p3 #kotone shiomi #persona 3 femc #shinjiro aragaki #shinjiham #foolmoon #despite kotone not being in reload it only made my craving for shinjiham content even more intense

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handhelld · 1 month

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Some stardew oc shenanigans some ramblings below vv

Farmer Oc is Maverick! He isn't actually the farmer, but more of a farmhand/freeloader on the farm.

Maverick was found by Willy on the shoreline with a ton of ship debris. Maverick had been a ship captain on a crabbing boat, but got caught in a sudden mysterious storm that led to communications failure and then the wreck of his ship and loss of his entire crew. (The green rain)

Maverick was extremely lucky to survive, but lost part of his leg and most of the feeling in his arm as a result of it being wrapped in rope from the mast. (This is what ends up saving him, since it got wrapped so tightly that even when he got knocked out, he stayed floating with the debris instead of sinking.)

Maverick doesn't have anywhere to return to or a place to stay, so the local farmer offers him a room in exchange for helpin' them with the animals.

He drinks a ton though and spends a lot of his nights at the Saloon. He and Shane have a VERY rough start and they end up getting into drunken fights more often than not. Gus has had to kick them out a few times.

Very much enemies to lovers, they skip over the friends part and its very much unhealthy at first but gets better later on as these idiots work out their issues.

Maverick is good friends with Willy, and fishes with him very often. It helps having someone with two working arms to help Mav reel in those fuckin summer Tuna.

Maverick is incredibly gentlemanly to all the ladies in town, Pierre hates his ass because he thought he was flirting with Caroline once. Marnie thinks he's a real charmer and definately smacks shane over the head for saying rude shit about him. Sam had to pull him aside once and be like "My dad is still very much alive, so you better quit it." after seeing him helping Jodi with her groceries. Maverick thinks its fuckin' hilarious because he is very much gay.

The ACTUAL farmer is this weird guy who goes by "Radish" . They rarely speak, have local crypid energy. Sebastian is kinda into them but is also very intimidated by them. Radish is just a weird lil fella. Not even Mav really understands them but they are #1 wingman.

#Crush.png #Crush.oc #Stardew Valley #shane stardew valley

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nelvana · 7 months

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A couple months ago now I was fortunate enough to buy a used switch lite from my friend, and even luckier to obtain a copy of Pokemon Scarlet at the local pawn shop at a very reduced price (plus a couple other things but that's not the point rn). So, we go right from the earliest generation of pokemon to the newest back to back, with possibly just as many bugs and glitches, to my gen 9 team!

Team stats and general gameplay info under the cut:

"Nila", Meowscarada, ♀, U-Turn - Play Rough - Flower Trick - Night Slash

"Quaord", Clodsire, ♂, Poison Jab - Earthquake - Liquidation - Megahorn

"Guache", Grafaiai, ♂, Slash - Knock Off - Poison Jab - U-Turn

"Stella", Luxray☆, ♀, Volt Switch - Spark - Crunch - Ice Fang

"Étoile", Pyroar☆, ♀, Flamethrower - Hyper Voice - Swift - Crunch

"Pharle", Farigiraf, ♂, Crunch - Shadow Ball - Twin Beam - Tera Blast

General Playthrough Notes:

Okay look I need to level with you all right off the bat, I don't like the vast majority of the pokemon introduced in gen 9. They feel like such first drafts to me. I normally go into these games with a team plan but this time I literally had two slots missing going in, I just could not think of what to put in there. And I already planned on using two poison-types and two normal-types! Normally I avoid doubling up on types as much as possible! After a bit I used the codes to get a bug-tera mew and a cetitan and was just thinking "I guess they'll be mainstays??"... then I immediately ran into a shiny shinx. Then a shiny litleo. They happened to slot right into the team and I've never been fortunate enough to use shinies in a playthrough (except my soulsilver randomized apocalocke but shhhhh we aren't there yet), so I put them on. But if they hadn't shown up and essentially saved my ass I would have been hard pressed to fill up a team of six (look I literally just used a mew I'm not in a hurry to use it again, at least it's been a couple years since I used luxray in a playthrough).

Anyways, despite all that, I had fun! I knew going in it wouldn't be too difficult and would have its lion's share of glitches, so I was just along for the ride. I like the friend group you form in this game! I like vibing with koraidon as an honorary team member! It's just a pleasant time.

Back to shinies for a moment, overworld shinies without any sound effects to indicate them is evil. I spent so much time staring at groups of pokemon trying to tell if one of them was off-palette. Thankfully, I never ran into any shinies other than the ones I caught.

The raids are neat, though since I don't have Nintendo Online and no frequent enough local players it isn't super interesting with just the npcs. Caught a few neat fellas though, including a steel-tera breloom and a fighting-tera azumarill.

Speaking of, when I first started playing those mewtwo raids were going on and I wanted to participate in them so bad. I barely missed my window, though from what I've heard I wouldn't have stood much of a chance anyway, haha.

I wish there was more post-game other than the raids. I've redone the tournament like half a dozen times now; I wish there was a battle frontier or something. To be fair, I haven't caught all those ruin legends yet; though the one I have caught I managed to get in the first ball, lol.

Do I have the dlc yet? No! I can't just throw around that kind of money willy-nilly. Maybe someday though.

Picnics are really cute though I wish I could pet my pokemon instead of just wash them. Also why can't I sit down on the chairs that are set up around the picnic table??? Still don't really get the sandwich hype, I might mess around with it a bit though, I want to give it a fair shot.

"Hey Nel, why haven't you talked about the Elite Four? You usually start these notes with them?" The E4 is very unremarkable, sorry. I won't bore you by being the billionth person to rag on how Geeta is objectively the worst champion. Also when I rematched all the gym leaders I didn't have to terastilize or heal my pokemon. They were a bit more impressive the first time around tbh. The gym puzzles were neat though!! Except for Tulip's. Fuck her.

Oh yeah, terastilizing is a thing. Mega evolution is still better.

I wanna hang out with my friiiieeeennnds more, both my irl friends and Nemona, Penny, and Arven. It would be so fun to do raids with them or something like that.

Cold take but the uniforms suck I wanna customize my outfit like Nemona, Penny, Arven and Team Star do

(Normally this is where I'd show a screenshot of me finishing the game, but I'm one of the few weirdos who can't use captchas and haven't found another way to transfer files from my switch to other devices. Have a picture of my cat instead; his name is Prince.)

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writingcold · 9 months

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Hi there. Welcome to Chapter 14. The past few chapters have been rough. I know. But we got our Junebug to safety, right? So, without further ado…

If you are just joining us, you can find the Master List to the series here

A very huge hug and thank you goes out to @lvnterninthenight, @gardensgatedaisy and @whitesuitjake. Your support, ear, talent and just friendship means more than anything.

This is a work of fiction, and is totally mine. Please do not take it for your own personal use. I’ve put in hours of research, hours upon hours of writing, re-writing, screaming, yelling and vomiting over this epic of a story. But it is mine.

Content warning: The only thing I’m putting in here this time is it’s 18+ for a reason. That’s why there’s a mature label on it. Maybe I should put ‘romantic interlude’, blush and get on with the story.

Word count: approx. 4400

Chapter Fourteen: Safety, Falling Apart, Return to Love - Cora POV

Dorothy Baroski’s farm was six, nearly seven miles, north of Arbor Vitae, Wisconsin. Nestled amongst thick woods, she did well for herself on the one hundred and twenty acres that provided hay and corn and supported a few cows and sheep. She led an unconventional life. She refused to marry again after her husband died a hero in the great war, opting to run their small farm on her own. Though no children of her own, Dotty was known to take in strays; those souls broken or lost, until they were once again on their feet. The only one that stayed was Lucas. He was a young teen when his parents were taken by the Spanish flu and had no other family that would accept him. The young man was as close to a son as she could ever hope for in her busy life.

Dotty and Lucas had met them in town, despite the rains, with a cover on the wagon. The house was a rambling affair with lots of rooms of dreams that Dorothy and her husband never were able to fully realize. But each corner, each nook and cranny, were filled with the warmth that the woman provided to the world. Jacob was correct - he had sent them to a sanctuary that Junie could start again.

Cora walked with Marcus every morning, looking for whatever the man was searching for and never to be found. Whatever threat that may have been perceived did not trail them south. She knew her friend was to return to Kingsford once he was assured the women were safe. It pained her to say goodbye as it seemed to be her only current tie linking back to Jacob. She was struggling. Cora did not in any fashion believe that taking care of her sister was wrong, but the absence of Jacob was a bitter wound that was beginning to wear through her heart. Her lungs burned so much at times that she wanted to run right back to Kingsford. The idea of such selfishness pierced her. She needed to care for Junie. She needed to be strong for her sister. But how was she supposed to stay strong when her whole body was screaming at her return to a space that was nurtured by her love.

“It will be well, Miss Cora,” he said, his gruffness only adding to the unusual softness he conveyed. “You’ll see. Your fella won’t fail you. I’ve never known Mr. Jacob to ever not do what is right by his family.”

“But I am not family. Not truly,” she whispered to keep herself from shattering.

He merely grinned before rubbing her shoulder gently. “Maybe, but you are something better - his future. Perhaps his future needs to not follow what he says he thinks he desires, what he thinks is right.”

Chapter Fourteen: Pt. 2, Susannah POV

Cora had been gone a week and the family seemed shredded because of it. Jacob walked around in a daze or was yelling at Sam over the Moon or fuming over any little wrinkle in his day. He drank doubles and triples until he could barely function just to survive his nights. It was a heart sickness that she understood all too well. Joshua, focused on the bank and learning its operations, was short-fused while trying to keep his twin from imploding. Daniel and Molly rode the fringes, trying to be as quiet as possible. Sam seemed to fight everything and everyone just from feeding off of whatever the hell was going on between the twins. His short temper lashed out at her only to immediately regret his hard words, his harsh actions. To watch him struggle in the wake of events sent ripples of despair through Susannah.

Business needed to resume. Jacob and Danny were off on a run, a second sweep in the Moon. Time on the run nearly doubled in their efforts to skirt Marquette county as much as possible. Sam was a nervous wreck. He second guessed each modification he had made on the vehicle the entire time Jake and Danny were absent. It was all Susannah could do to provide him with some form of comfort and support.

She walked into Molly’s; the smell of coffee heavy in the air. Her friend sat at her table, head down and arms thrown over like she was hiding.

“What’s this all about, sweetheart?” she asked, touching Molly’s back to get her attention.

Molly sat up, her eyes destroyed and her skin pale. “Being stupid is all. Don’t worry about it. Coffee?”

Susannah waved at her and got her own cup before sitting down. “Mols, come on. This is not nothing.”

“Just having a moment, love. With all this shit, I’m just a little extra worried that Jake won’t be able to protect Danny,” she whispered.

“No word from Cora?” she asked, picking at the edge of the table.

Molly shook her head. “Marcus got in last night, though.”

“I saw that.” She debated if she wanted to breathe her next thought into existence. Sipping at the bitter liquid, she swallowed hard. “Do you think she’s really going to stay with Junie?”

“I wouldn’t blame her. What that fuck did to her sister was…” Molly inhaled sharply, her mouth a hard line. “If I ever see him, I’m going to cut his dick off and shove it down his throat.”

“There’s my Molly,” Susannah whispered.

With Jake and Danny gone, and Josh spread thin with the shops and bank, it was coming down to Sam to oversee the Lantern and the dancehall. Every night, she sat with him. Joshua would appear briefly, all smiles and professional talk with other heads of business, but would disappear the moment he could sleep and prepare for the next day.

Week two slid into week three. Jake returned enraged and drunk within the first hour. Danny had no words to explain. Jake said nothing the entire run and was already demanding that they only take a few days rest before heading out again to make up for lost time. The autumn storms were starting to turn colder. Sam worried over muddy roads and ice that they had no idea how the Moon would handle. Jake seemed to not truly care. He was nearly frantic to get those last few runs in despite the toll it was taking on himself, Danny, or anyone else involved in the operation.

Week three was grinding to a close. Molly joined Susannah sipping on gin rickeys and watching the crowd. Joshua was shaking hands and talking with a group of men on the other side of the room while Sam stood at the bar.

“Any word from our friend down south?” Susannah asked just to make conversation.

Molly shrugged. “It’s weird. Jake has made no mention of getting Rosemary and boys ready to head out. I don’t think Cora has reached out to anyone since leaving.”

“He’s going over there though, right? He’s looking after the family like he promised?” Susannah asked, concerned that perhaps Jake was not living up to his part of the deal with Cora.

“Danny said he’s over there every moment he’s not here drinking,” she answered. “Marcus is checking in with Rosemary when Jake’s gone, or like this…”

Susannah could not hide the relief she felt. Despite his heartache, she could not see him failing in the responsibility that he had accepted. They fell to silence as Sam moved to the piano. There were polite claps before he dug into some jazz that set the crowd on the dancefloor into a tizzy. Susannah smiled. To have a glimpse of a bit of normal felt good, but she knew it was not going to be long lived.

The first Saturday of October brought the first hint of early snow. Though only a dusting, the mood was unusually subdued with the notion that winter was going to be long for the year's end of 1926. Jake sat at the table, his face and body looking like he had been in a fight that he had not won. The glass between his fingers was largely ignored as he glared out across the room, despite its two fingers of rich amber whiskey. The unhappy radiated off of him like a fire storm. She wondered if his anger kept him from dulling his pain. She was unsure what was scarier - the sober bomb laying in wait or the drunken ire that threatened. Susannah’s heart ached for him, but she tried to stay in character for him and Josh as they nearly mirrored each other. Josh sat at Jake’s side, body heavy against the table, his own drink empty waiting for a refresh.

The entire table startled when Jake stood up suddenly, launching himself forward, his steps quick as he moved around carefree patrons. Susannah’s gaze trailed ahead, landing on Cora standing just inside the side door. The woman’s face was rosy with a joy that sparkled in her eyes and radiated across the space as if reaching out to envelop her love.

“I’ll be,” Molly sighed.

Even Josh laughed as Jacob fell into her, the door closing to hide their moment of reuniting. In the blink of an eye, the mood had shifted. Susannah saw the relief in Josh’s face as he lifted his twin’s glass to his own mouth to drink it down.

“Goddamn, I don’t ever want to do this again,” Josh said as the bottom of the glass smacked the table.

They toasted the sentiment as their smiles turned genuine and the happy slowly returned to their spirits.

Chapter Fourteen, Pt. 3, Cora POV

“You need to go home, Cora,” Junie had said as she poured out tea for the three of them. “I will be well. Dotty said I could stay forever if I wanted. Your heart’s not here.”

The tiny swell of her sister’s belly called out to her. Junie’s health had improved rapidly once they settled into Dorothy’s home. She was amazing, full of warmth and spirit and life. The woman treated them like family immediately. At Junie’s sentiment, she had smiled at Cora.

“Jacob has always been the kind of soul who puts those he loves before himself,” she stated thoughtfully. “He’s very much like my sister in that regard. Perhaps, for once, his needs can be put first, while you fulfill your own.”

Cora had tried not to run from the train station, but her feet would not listen. The night was thick with humidity and the air was heavy with mist, despite the chill. She stepped into the dancehall, sure that her face was flustered and reddened with exertion. She smiled at the few faces she knew as she pushed her way back to the employee door. In the hall, she stopped as Marcus turned towards her. After a beat, his face melted into a relieved smile. He took out his handkerchief for her to wipe at her face.

“Dear lord, it’s good to see you, Cora,” he said as they started walking down the stairs. “Do they know you’re here?”

“No,” she answered, trying in vain to catch her breath. “I just got off the train and I couldn’t wait another moment. Is he here?”

“Of course he’s here,” Marcus said with a nod as he opened the door for her.

The first glimpse broke her heart. The hardness; the anger that roiled from his form was palpable as Jacob stared off across the room. It was the man that she feared in the beginning: a Jacob that was angry without limit. Everything within her froze with a threat to shatter. In the span of a breath, his dark eyes strayed to her and he was to his feet and moving towards her. Pieces of anger fell away with each step like chunks of ice, replaced with warmth and surprise. As he reached for her, she laughed out, dropping her bag and folding herself against him as his mouth pressed against her in need. Her heart started to beat again. Her spirit moved and twisted around the man that quaked against her.

Jacob’s palm cupped her cheek as he wrapped himself around her. “God, you're beautiful,” he whispered before kissing her once more.

Cora hummed as he pulled away, only to bring her in her close, pulling her flush against him. She could feel him shaking beneath her touch. “Jacob,” she said against his ear, “take me home.”

He touched her face once more before reaching for her satchel and leading her up the stairs, with a nod to Marcus, he led them down the narrow hall and out into the alley. Jacob wrapped her arm with his own, but held tight to her hand as well. He walked forward, but she stopped when she realized that he was moving towards the house on Park. He looked back at her and she shook her head.

“Home,” she repeated, shyness coloring her cheeks.

She watched as he swallowed and hesitated for another moment. They walked quietly towards the Kiszka home. Her heart fluttered and threatened to jump into her throat as his presence excited her blood and brain and everything seemed to be warm under her skin. Inside, he helped her out of her coat.

“Do you want some coffee? I can-”

She shook her head. She watched as his eyes drifted closed. Cora followed him up the stairs, her fingers entwined with his and he gently tugged her along. He switched the light on the dresser as they stepped inside the familiar space. He set her bag down on the dressing table before turning back to her. She looked into his handsome face, her body finally calming enough as he reached for her once more.

There was a wholeness she felt as he kissed her, touched her, allowing her to breathe him in and absorb his strength. “I want you to teach me to make love to you, Jacob.”

His brow twitched as his eyes drifted to her lips. “It’s going to hurt at first.”

“I don’t care,” she whispered as he traced the line of her jaw. “It doesn’t scare me. I want you to make me yours. And I want to make you mine.”

He ran a hand through his hair and seemed to take a moment to collect himself. He moved close, planting a soft kiss against her mouth. His hands looped around her shoulders as he walked them back towards his bed. She deepened the kiss as he freed her hair to spill down her back and over her shoulders. He smiled against her lips as her fingers pressed against his bottom. They undressed each other slowly, each item set to the side with care. He took his time, relishing each piece of revealed skin with the brush of his mouth, the press of his fingertips, the graze of his eyes. She felt her chest begin to tighten as her hands danced across the planes of him, drawing her mark into muscle, scar, ridge of bone and skin. He reached over and pulled the covers back, before he turned and backed his way onto the mattress, pulling her along, never breaking their kiss.

She lay down on his pillow and he moved onto his side, rising up over her. There was no embarrassment over their nakedness. There was no shyness. Cora smiled as she reached to touch his face. His dark eyes shimmered in the low light of the room.

“Why did you come back?” he asked, brushing her hair back from her face.

She stayed quiet for a few moments. Though the truth was simple, she did not need the words to sound foolish. “My heart needed you.”

He dragged his knuckles down her cheek, seemingly overcome. He ghosted his fingers down her neck to dance across her collar bones. “I’m going to touch you, Cora. Tell me to stop and I will.”

She let out a sigh as his palm pressed against the top of her chest before drifting across to her side and down until he cupped the swell of her breast. He kept his eyes on her, watching her face. He drew her nipple between his fingers gently before leaning down to place an open mouthed kiss against the top of her breast. He kissed her, sucking in her bottom lip between his teeth. Jacob’s touch swirled down, following the curve of her hip and then back towards him, ghosting across the pubic bone to follow the path of her thigh to her knee. He pushed her right leg open and pulled her left to bend against his frame; the pads of his fingers pressing into the inner thigh as he shifted to rise up on his side more.

Cora’s breath started to quicken with anticipation. He bent again, this time, a deep kiss set her skin on fire as his fingers tucked into her folds in a single pass. His hand returned to the inside of her thigh, pushing further to expose her all the more. He circled her nub with a featherlight press of his middle finger. Her breath escaped in a soft gasp before he covered her mouth with a harder kiss. His touch grew heavier, more demanding as he withdrew, his attention caught once more on her breasts. He nuzzled his way closer to her frame as she opened further to him. His mouth was wet against her skin, hot and seeking until he landed his cheek against her chest.

Her fingers traced up the expanse of his back, the bumpy spine, the sinew of the muscle and sharpness of his shoulder blades until seeking out the soft vulnerability of his neck. He shifted ever so slowly to begin planting kisses across her chest and tops of her breasts. Cora’s sighs and coos became harder, deeper the more he touched and circled and pressed. As he moved to look into her face, she stared into his eyes, taking in the way his body responded to her, how it seemed to glisten and shine just for her. The redness of his lips made her swoon as he leaned into her, pressing his mouth against her throat.

“I’m going to…” he whispered before pressing a finger to her entrance.

Her body reacted by bowing into his hand, accepting him as he slid his finger in and out rhythmically, but at a pace that was languid as if needing her to settle. His kiss deepened more, his tongue mirroring his hand as he added a second. She sucked in a hard breath at the feel and he stopped but did not withdraw.

“Hurt?”

She did not know how to answer. It was more a sting that flashed across her insides but was already gone. Cora relaxed the tension from her frame and shook her head no. He started to move his fingers again, this time, the pad of his thumb rubbed against her clit when he pressed all the way in. Shockwaves pelted her brain as he patiently worked her body. The emotions that flooded her were unexpected. Joy. Euphoria. A bit of fear of what was to come. Loved. Each kiss. Each touch. Each move of his hand conveyed nothing but a pureness of love. Her heart hammered in her chest as she slid her arm from behind him, reaching down she hesitated only a moment as her fingers were met with his cock, hard against her hip.

“God damn,” he breathed as she wrapped her hand around him, giving him a little squeeze.

Surprised by his reaction, she stopped, eyes unsure. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby,” he whispered. “Do it more. Touch me more.”

Cora bit into her lip before taking him once more. He rutted into her palm, matching the slowness of his own hand against her. Her mouth dropped over the feel. Her brain was connecting the movements and her core ached for more. Involuntarily, she started to lean into his touch, moving her hips so that he pressed harder. He began sucking in her ear lobe, giving it a little bite. The sensations became overwhelming as he lapped at her skin, dragging his teeth across her. Little pauses in her thoughts felt like someone was turning on and off the lights as her body jolted with pleasure. Her legs were trembling as he sped his rhythm a fraction. A soft hum vibrated through his chest as he looked at her, eyes clouded with his own emotions. In a deliberate move, he withdrew his fingers and she gasped at the sudden emptiness she felt.

She was not going to let him go until he smiled. “May I make love to you?”

“I thought that was what we were doing?”

“Almost. But now together.”

Her brain stopped completely as he moved his body between her legs, gently making room for himself. Jacob propped himself up on one arm so as not to press her down with too much weight, but what she felt sent shivers through her that made her want to memorize the happiness that flooded her. He kissed her, slow at first until once more, he moved, this time guiding his cock into her body at a snail's crawl. Her jaw slackened before dropping. Her hands clutched at his shoulders over the sensation. It was not pain like she was expecting. It was a burst of rupture that subsided quickly, but stung as he continued before stopping at his hilt.

Every muscle quivered. Every thought was gone save for those of him. The touch and heat of him. The smell of him. The … the… the feel of him inside of her was not what she thought it would be. It was like a completion of her, somehow. A fullness that was meant to be. She had not realized that she was squeezing her eyes shut so hard that her face was bunched up. Her arms and legs clung to him so tightly that neither could move. Slowly, she relaxed, opening her eyes to find him searching her expression.

He kissed her as he threaded his hand into hers before bringing it up above her head so as to lower himself fully against her. Like with his hand, he slowly drew out only to return. Both gasped over the movement.

Her breath fought in and out of her mouth as he began to move in earnest. “What do I feel like?”

A soft moan fell from him as he looked at her. “The softest… The softest of silk wrapped all around me, Finch.”

At the sound of his pet name, her body spasmed against him. He smirked as a soft moan escaped.

“And when your body does that,” he whispered against her ear, “it’s euphoria across my whole body.”

He pressed a passion filled kiss to her mouth before pushing himself up. He slid both hands under the small of her back to lift her slightly, while keeping connected.

“Does it hurt?” he asked softly, before he started to move once more.

She shook her head, but the faint sting of each strike was still present, all the more so with his change of hold on her. Aside from that, Cora could feel her brain letting go of the fear, allowing herself to focus only on the sensation that he was sharing with her. Total adoration. It was the only thought that stuck as she looked upon him. It filled every pore and every sound that was shared. An urgency started to pull under her skin, hot and bright. Jacob slid one hand between their bodies and was rubbing that nub. Seeing him turned her skin to flame and her breath to catch on nothing other than frenzied passion.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered as she felt like her entire being had been shoved under water and tossed into the air at the same time. No restraints. Nothing but love.

A look passed his face as he grimaced and tucked his chin. He shook his head like he was struggling.

“Finch - I gotta,” he started but suddenly pulled his body away from her, pumping himself rapidly. His cum scalded the skin of her belly. Her eyes widened as he finally slowed to a stop.

“No babies,” he said, his eyes closed. “Not yet.”

She looked at the opalescent fluid on her skin and it took a moment to realize what he was talking about. Her cheeks blushed over the thought. He let out a soft laugh as his breathing slowed. He held up a hand for her to stay and went into the washroom. She heard the taps turn on and he was fast to reappear with a couple of wet cloths. The first he wiped at her belly with. The second he held to her entrance. The action surprised her and she flinched.

“I didn’t mean to hurt-”

“No, no,” she blurted in embarrassment, seeing his dismay. “It doesn’t hurt. I wasn’t expecting you to, uh, care about … that.”

His brows pinched, but continued to just hold the cloth against her for a few more moments. “I cherish all of you. I’m running a bath. It’ll help.”

He stood straight, holding his hand out for her to take. Cora realized he was trying to care for her but in her ignorance was fumbling the situation. Modestly, she followed him into the bathroom and he felt the water to make sure it was not too hot. Turning the taps off, he stepped in first, holding his hand to her to help. She shyly stepped in as he sat, guiding her to sit with her back to him. She fit snuggly, finding a comfort she did not expect. His arms wrapped around her, seeking out her hands to hold as the steam of the water soaked into their bodies.

“Is it always like this?” she asked, allowing her head to fall back onto his shoulder.

Jacob trailed kisses against her cheek. She could feel him smile. “Sometimes. Did I hurt you badly?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t what I expected. I mean… It’s not like I didn’t know what would happen, but… I…”

“Finch, did you like it?” he asked.

“I did,” she whispered, her cheeks a furious red that he tried to kiss away, but it only made things worse.

“I did, too,” he said as he wrapped their arms around her. “It gets better. It gets so much better.”

“Better?”

He hummed deep in his chest. “I will learn what you like. How you like for me to touch you, taste you, move you. And you will learn my body, Finch. You will learn how I like to be touched, tasted.”

“Like our own dance,” she sighed as he pulled her even closer against his body.

“Like our own dance.”

Cora felt the tiredness creep up from the soles of her feet to invade her brain. She watched as Jacob brushed his fingertips across her arm, back and forth, as if memorizing the little ridge of scar that was there. Loved. Her entire self felt the security of him as they washed each other, sharing soft adorations and touches. They wrapped around each other in quiet fashion as they lay in bed. Cora breathed him in as her cheek landed on his chest. Her eyes were closed when he whispered his love for her, sending her off to sleep.

Yeah. Am I ashamed that I’m posting this on my b-day? Not really. So raise a glass of your favorite preferred beverage with me - cheers to you all, lovelies!

I do have a tag list - you can find it here

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @whitesuitjake @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @streamingcolors-gvf @gretavanbitches @samsurfgreenbass @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatchercarol @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @puzzle-gvf @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @lightmylove-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @jaketlove @redsierra1960 @gvfmarge @becinabubblegvf @wildbluesorbit @sinarainbows

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sammy gvf #sam gvf #daniel gvf #danny gvf #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fanfic au #greta van fleet au fic #greta van fleet x ocs #bootleggers and wildflowers

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kingkennny10 · 9 months

Text

Please Please Please

SP Apocalypse AU

Pt. 5 It Begins

Here it is, the beginning of the end, where will everyone go? Who dies? Who makes it out? How will the show go? Another chapter i love, it took me longer to post because i keep editing it instead of just putting down what i wrote on paper, mb yall, theres plenty of blood at the end of this, your typical apocalypse stuff 💕

Tonight's the night, the big opening gig in Denver! You ride with Jimmy to the place an hour and a half early and sit in his mini dressing room sipping on some water as you wait for him to finish his rundown with the venue owner. Jimmy enters the room with a tired look on his face making you pout at him. "You alright there big fella?" You ask patting the other chair next to you. He comes over and takes a seat heaving out a big sigh before speaking.

"Yea, just before show n-nerves I guess..." He says and you let out a giggle. You've never known Jim to be nervous. "I'm glad your here with me though." He reaches over to hold your hand but you use it to take another sip of your water instead.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, you know I'll always support your career Jim jim!" You say after swallowing down the water. He gives you a breathy chuckle in response.

"There's already a couple p-p-people out there and I go on in 30, a-are you gonna head out there?" Jimmy asks and you nod.

"I guess I should, hopefully there's people I know so we can make fun of you." You say with a laugh. You get up and pat Jimmy's shoulder. "Good luck out there Jim." You begin walking towards the door.

"No good luck kiss?" Jimmy asks you as you reach for the knob. You give him a half hearted laugh.

"You don't need it, you're gonna knock 'em dead Jim." You said as you exit the room. You make your way to a door that opens next to the stage. You take a deep breath as you look around the sparse audience. As your making your way up the isle and towards the back you spot a very familiar face, belonging to non other than Kenneth McCormick. You make it halfway up the isle before you stop and drink in his appearance. No coat, just a white button down and some black slacks, his hair was long and half up. You didn't notice but you lick your lips at the sight. You continue walking slowly towards him.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that my grease monkey!" You say loud enough for him to hear you now that you're halfway to him. He looks over and jumps up and into the isle to meet you halfway.

"The one and only! How've you been sweetheart?" He says and lifts you into a crushing hug. You giggle into his chest at the pet name.

"I've been fine. How 'bout yourself sweetface?" You ask him as he sets you down gently, leaving his hands on your waist. Your hands gently placed on his shoulders and your both making steady eye contact with big smiles across your faces.

"It's been a rough couple days, but you always know how to cheer me up, always have." Kenny says placing his forehead on yours. "C'mon, you're sittin' with me." He tells you as he grabs one of your hands leading you to where he was sat, only one seat between you and the isle.

"How's Karen and Kevin been? I haven't talked to you in who knows how long." You ask and he smiles all the way up to his eyes. You could never forget how close he is to his siblings, it's something you always found endearing about him.

"Kevin and I got into a bit of a fight a couple days ago, I'm out of a job now, oh well.” He shrugged. “Karen on the other hand, she's doin' amazing, she's gonna graduate early and she already has a bunch of scholarships racked up so she can go to college on the east coast!" He tells you full of excitement. You're sad to hear about the falling out with his brother, but the joy you feel about Karen's accomplishments overtakes those feelings. You were always close with Karen when you were still close with Kenny. “What about you and Jim boy?” He says laughing at the nickname. You laugh with him before letting out a sigh to answer.

“Its been great, he’s my best friend, but over the past 6 months he’s been pushing for more than that.” You say leaning back in your seat looking at the ceiling. Kenny only laughs at you. “What’s so funny over there mister?!” You ask jabbing him in the side. He laughs more and puts his hands between you to stop further jabs.

“I’m sorry I just always thought you guys were together and like, married.” Kenny said still laughing. You scoff and begin laughing in disbelief.

“Kenny, you’ve seen the guys I’ve dated, why would you think that?” You’re still shocked at his assumption. You’ve always dated more the asshole type or dudes that get their hands dirty. Kenny being one of the few you dated.

“You dated Tolkien for a bit! I could see Jimmy makin it in!” Kenny said with a laugh. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t you remember me complaining about how formal dating him was? It sucked, that’s why I dated you.” Both of your laughter died down but your smiles still shown brightly. You flinched and looked over at Kenny who began laughing again.

“And I was the best of them all. I don’t think you dated anyone after me.” You scoffed laughing at him. “The Mccormick charm is too good to beat, sorry dollface.” He said confidently with a shrug. You smacked his arm in response with a laugh. It’s true, but he doesn’t need to know that. Kenny was the best you had, he was an amazing partner and kept up with your spontaneous plans. Your break up with him is the reason you ended up in Jimmy’s group of friends.

“You’re only half right mister Mccormick.” You said as you took another glance around at the audience. Another familiar head of hair caught your eye leading you to cut Kenny off from responding with more questions. “Now thats either Craig or Stan. Place your bets now sweetface.” You whispered nudging Kenny and pointing to a head of black hair 2 rows in front of you. He laughed and rubbed his hands together.

“For sure Stan, ready?” Kenny asked with a devious smile playing on his lips. You giggled and nodded. “STAN MARSHTON!” Kenny yelled out making Stan almost jump out his seat. You and Kenny cracked up seeing him stand up making a ‘what the fuck’ motion before coming over to sit next to you and Ken. “It works every time.” Kenny whispered to you cutting himself off with his own laughter leading you to follow suit.

“Nice to see you guys too.” Stan said defeated crossing his arms. Finally slowing down your laughter you leaned in and hug him, Kenny squishing you to join the hug.

“You missed us, it’s okay we know.” You told him with a giggle. You guys let Stan go both staring at him for him to agree.

“God dammit, yes fine okay. I missed you guys.” He said with an eye roll and a laugh. He leaned back in for another hug trapping you in between him and Kenny yet again. You all laughed together feeling like the happiest people on earth.

“So where’s carrot top?” You asked with a pout. “Yall are like, conjoined twins or something.” You finished with a laugh, Kenny joining in.

“Oh, him an Ike had a family trip to Jersey pre-planned so they couldn’t make it.” Stan said with a shrug.

“I’m glad you could make it tonight then!” You said patting his shoulder.

“Oh yeah! You still work at Tweaks right?” Kenny asked from beside you.

“Yea, I get the weekends off so I was able to make it thankfully.” Stan said happily. “I’m glad I got to see you guys again. I missed you both.” Stan said and began laughing at you and Kenny’s faces. Both of you made the same puppy dog face obviously touched he said such a thing.

“Y/n hold me I’m gonna cry, I’m so emotional.” Kenny said dramatically falling into your lap. You held him like a baby and continued pouting nodding your head in agreement.

“Stanley Martian missed us. We need to go for coffee every day he works from here on.” You said adding sniffles for affect. Stan laughed at the both of you making you and Kenny return to normal seated positions.

“I’d love to see you guys more often, I spend all my time with the same 4 people, I miss how spontaneous you guys are.” You and Kenny let out a drawled out ‘awww’ at Stans words which made him laugh again. The lights in the auditorium dimmed leaving only a spotlight shining on the closed curtain.

“Yall ready for Slim Jim?” You whispered loud enough for both of them to hear. You didn’t catch any response yourself but they both nodded with eyes on the stage. The place was packed and filled with excitement as some un-copyrighted music played from the speakers. The curtains opened and a couple seconds after Jimmy made his way on stage bowing when he got to his mark in the center.

“W-wow! Thank you guys! Such a-a lovely audience!” He started off with a line that most of the familiar faces would know. “So many familiar faces tonight! Lemme hear you South Park!” Jimmy said causing a third of the audience to cheer loudly, including some party hounding from you and Kenny. His opening act got 5 minutes of normalcy before the main doors slammed open drawing everyone’s attention.

“And he’s here after all.” You said unenthused leading Stan to laugh. You didn’t need to turn around to know who walked in, but as he began his walk down the isle you watched quietly.

“Better late than never Cartman!” Jimmy said from the stage. Cartman flipped him off and made his way all the way to the front sitting at one of the booth seats in the front row.

“I feel bad for Jimmy.” Kenny said knowing Cartman was gonna heckle him. You laughed and patted his hand.

“It’s fine, he was counting on him showing up.” You said with a sigh. Both Kenny and Stan laughed seemingly more engaged.

“Fuck you J-J-J-Jimmy!” Cartman started. Jimmy laughed as he heard a couple groans from the crowd. Cartmans table was stocked with drinks and snacks as were the rest of the booth seats and he made quick work of them.

“Plenty of you here kn-know this guy here, but for those of you who don’t! Keep small children and p-p-pets away from him! He’ll gobble them down while your n-not l-l-looking!” Jimmy spoke to the crowd leading everyone to laugh. Cartman began a fit of fake laughter drawing attention back on him before he began coughing. “Woah! Slow d-down there man, don’t ch-choke!” Cartman didn’t stop coughing as he brought one hand to clutch at the side of his neck and the other to flip Jimmy off. “Hey can someone escort him to medical real quick! His necks bleeding bad!” Jimmy said looking over to the security by the stage.

“What the fuck?” Stan said quietly beside you. All you could do was watch.

“THIS PLACE IS GONNA HAVE A LAWSUIT! SOME DRUNK BITCH ATTACKED ME IN YOUR PARKING LOT!” Cartman yelled to the 2 security guards taking him out of his seat. His coughing continued as the brought him back up the isle passing your trio. Cartman stumbled to the ground before making it to the door falling limp. The security guards quickly tried picking him back up only for Cartman to yell out grabbing one of the guards and start attacking him.

“What the fuck is happening.” Kenny stood up grabbing you and holding you close. You grabbed Stans hand pulling him up as well. The other guard tried pulling Cartman off of the man but when he saw all the blood he turned to run. Cartman was covered in blood and the first guard was in a puddle of blood face down on the floor. He got up quickly with a scream running after the guard that was running towards the other main entrance. The first guard shook and got up running to the audience members across the isle from your trio attacking anyone he could.

“C’mon lets go!” Stan said sternly pulling you and Kenny with him. Everyone was in a panic to get away and you seen Jimmy wasn’t on the stage anymore. The rush of people was ridiculous but Kenny and Stan held a firm grip. “Too many fucking people.” Stan cursed looking around.

“Go through the side door by the stage!” You told Stan and he changed directions. You all ran to the door, Stan shoving everyone out the way to get all of you out safe. A few people had the same idea and there was also a flood of people coming into the hallway after you three.

The screams were deafening coming from behind you, you took a glance behind seeing blood splatter on the white walls near the door. Kenny shook his head. “Dont look back, keep going.” His voice was shakey which didn’t help the nerves and adrenaline rushing through you.

Passing by injured people along the way you all made it to the parking lot safely. One look around and you all were shocked. There was shattered glass from the windows of the buildings, many people running frantically to escape. Gunshots could be heard but you couldn’t tell from where. You couldn’t control your breathing no more. Kenny wrapped his arms around you applying some pressure to your chest and you began to focus hearing Stans voice. “Do you guys have a way out of here?”

“I was dropped off.” Kenny said with a shake of his head.

“I-I rode with Jimmy.” You said with a shaky voice. Stan gripped your hand tighter and pulled both of you with him again.

“Follow close! Its a 2 door get in on the passenger side.” Stan said wasting no time dragging you both to his car. He let you go once he made it to the tailgate and unlocked the car. Kenny opened the door pulling the seat forward for you to get in and hopping in as soon as you sat. Stan already had the car started as Kenny shut the door.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Kenny shouted and put his head in his hands. Stan pulled out the parking spot quickly and made his way to the main streets of Denver hitting a few questionable looking people along the way. You were still in shock in the back seat looking out the back window of the car. Many people roaming the streets, some running, cars driving frantically hitting others, some crashed into buildings. “Phones are dead.” Kenny said making you turn around to look at him.

“Theres no way that fat bastard started the fuckin apocalypse.” Stan said in disbelief. You let out an exasperated laugh leaning forward onto the console with your head in your hands. Looking up you notice Kenny frantically fidgeting with his phone. You wrap an arm around his middle and use your other to bring his head to yours. He places his phone down taking a shaky breath before turning to hug you suddenly.

“We’re gonna get her first.” You say to him. He grips your shirt squeezing you close to him. “She’s alive, and we are gonna get her out safe and sound.” You say petting his hair. He nods his head in silent response. You knew he would be worried about Karen first. You knew his brain a little too well, and because of that you know how to calm him down.

“Thank you y/n.” Kenny says staying in your embrace. You rubbed his back and softly dragged your fingers through his messy hair. His breathing was still a little fast but it’s better than it was.

“To the Mccormicks then.” Stan says. You place one of your hands on Stans arms rubbing it as a thank you. Your glad that your in this together, you couldn’t have chosen better people to be with.

Yall i love this chapter, i had to rewrite it 3 times and it got deleted once but its here now, am i gonna elaborate on the past relationships? Yeah, is it gonna be in the next chapter? NOPE!! Wheres jimmy? Wheres Karen? Are Kyle an Ike alright? Who else was there at the show? Oooooooo

#south park #south park x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #stan marsh x reader #poly!stenny x reader #apocalypse au #px3 #please x3

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yanderelmk · 11 months

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Yellowtusk Headcanons [Elephant Fun-Fact & Transmasc Edition]

From what I looked up, Asian elephants specifically have no matriarch, but I do see that in the majority of other elephant families the herd is lead by a Grandmama Matriarch who uses her experience to keep everyone together. This is my propaganda for Transmasc Yellowtusk

Because Asian elephants are pregnant for 18-22 months Yellowtusk has massive respect for birth givers and he's actually the best person to call if you're having pains, sickness, or cravings at all hours of the night because Yellowtusk will not only gladly buy you the food you want, he'll bring you extra groceries and make you the meal if necessary

He also knows what periods are like and that they suck, don't worry he's got blankets, heating pads, medicine, snacks, stuffed animals, whatever you need (Peng greatly appreciated this before he got his hysterectomy)

Dysphoria? He's fully willing to sit down and listen to your troubles

I honestly think that because he's the king of elephants all the other elephants think of Yellowtusk as Grandpapa and will address him as such, like how in Journey to the West the Monkey King calls his Flower-Fruit Monkeys his grandchildren

Yellowtusk probably had serious respect for Womanland because not only were they completely without male assistance (back in 600~ CE not having a male was like not having a gun in the jungle), they were fully roughing it when it came to care for the birth givers and babies. Not only that but they were thriving as a stable economy and have likely managed to advance medical knowledge in that specific field because of the focus on it

If Yellowtusk sees an elephant calf his Grandpapa instincts kick in and he must follow it back to its herd to make sure it's safe because it's what he would do with his own herd

Likely uses his trunk to scoop up the lil fella! Gently lifts them so he can carry them to safety

If Yellowtusk is happy he actually trumpets! When a calf is newly born, elephants are known to announce the birth with trumpets other happy noises, I like to think Yellowtusk does this in general when he's really happy

He's probably the best with children of the Brotherhood, fully willing to let tiny humans tug on his ears/trunk because they don't understand it yet and having the patience to deal with their shrill noises because they are tiny and cannot communicate like adults and he finds it very silly!

#lmk #lmk yandere #yandere lmk #lmk headcanons #lmk yellowtusk #lmk yellowtusk headcanons #transgender #transmasc #transmasc yellowtusk #headcanons

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teshamerkel · 1 year

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 43] (34 Pages)

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AO3 Link

Trouble crops up in Asra. Tobias and Nia find a new lead.

They arrive back at the saloon right as it starts to rain in earnest.

Tobias ducks inside and flips down his hood. Nia is right on his heels, and she shakes the rain out of her fur in a full-body wiggle. He wrinkles his nose and steps away to avoid the splatter.

There are still a decent amount of townsfolk scattered around the large open room, thought not as many as last night. Still, the mood is light and the air is warm with the scent of food. Tobias and Nia make their way up to the bar, climbing onto the smaller stools on one end.

Deidra glances their way with a smile. “Hello, little Seekers. How’s your mission going?”

“Great,” Tobias drawls, putting every ounce of exasperation he’s feeling into his voice.

The lopunny fills up a glass with some water from an icy pitcher. She slides that over to Nia, who takes it with a quiet word of thanks and chugs it.

Deidra also rolls a hydration berry to Tobias, and he gratefully accepts it with a nod of thanks, biting into its plump skin. While Tobias savors the cool juice filling his mouth, he looks at the rows of glasses lining the shelves behind Deidra. They reflect the warm colors and lights of the place.

After a minute or two of silence, Deidra finally asks, “Rough start to the investigation, then?”

“You could say that,” Nia mumbles, head pillowed on an arm as she plays with her empty water glass.

“You’re looking for someone who could be causing the quakes, right?” Deidra says.

“N-No, we’re not trying to blame anyone!” Nia scrambles. “We just wanted to know if anyone saw anything weird—“

Deidra gives her a knowing, amused smile.

Nia gives up, dropping her head back to her arm.

“How did you know? That we suspect they’re intentional,” Tobias asks, cautious.

Deidra laughs. “You said Granite called you in, right? He’s a sweet old fella, but he has loose lips when he’s upset. And I’ve never seen him angrier than when Takeo was injured, goin’ on about finding out who hurt him.”

“So everyone knew we were looking for suspects anyways,” Nia mumbles dejectedly.

Tobias sighs, planting his chin inn his hand. “We aren’t so great at this investigation business.“

“I don’t know if I would trust Granite’s hunch so much,” Deidra says, putting a glass away with a clink. Her voice is good-natured, but confident. “What would someone even get out of causing these earthquakes?”

“That’s what we were trying to figure out,” Nia whines, dropping her head to the counter with a thump. “We need some kind of lead! A motive at the very least, but…”

“The injuries and deaths don’t seem targeted,” Tobias sighs. “So I don’t think it’s an attack on anyone specific. But I can’t think of what else it could be.”

Deidra hums. “And what if it is just nature doing its thing? What will you do then?”

Tobias shifts uncomfortably in his seat, unnerved by the thought. They certainly aren’t getting Rosalind’s “payment” if that’s the case. And he’s desperate for that info.

They’re cut off from answering by a shout from outside. Angry. Another voice quickly follows the second, excited.

Deidra stills, looking to the shuttered windows with a small frown. Nia and Tobias exchange a glance, and this time he’s ready to follow her as she slides off her stool and hurries back out to the street.

Through the light rain, there are two small groups of Pokemon. A scuffed up smoliv is struggling to sit up in the mud. A stunky crouches defensively in front of them, glaring up at the other Pokemon with bristling fur

A heliolisk leads the other group, looking down at the two Pokemon with his collar extended and static crackling across his scales. A swaying maractus and a sneering mudbray flank him. A girafarig hovers near the back of the group, simply watching.

“Hey!” Tobias shouts, flipping up his hood and following Nia to plant himself in front of the cowering Pokemon. The rain stings the exposed skin on his tail and hands like little pinpricks. “What’s going on here?”

“This has nothing to do with you, brats,” the heliolisk hisses.

The mudbray and maractus shout in agreement. The girafarig, strangely enough, looks caught off-guard by their appearance, blinking and taking a step back.

“Four against two is a bit of an unfair fight, isn’t it?” Tobias growls.

“What’s unfair is that little green freak walking around like he has nothing to do with all this!” The heliolisk snarls, gesturing first at the smoliv behind Tobias and then swinging his arm in the direction of the nearest building under construction.

Nia falters, blinking rain out of her eyes. “What?”

Tobias glances back at the little grass type, shivering and crying in the mud. The stunky has curled around him protectively.

“He’s a human!” The mudbray jeers, stomping a hoof in the mud and seeming unphased by the rain. “Didn’t get out with the others when he had the chance.”

Oh, so that’s what this is about. Nia stiffens beside him, and when he glances at her he catches a flash of bright blue in her eyes, a rare sort of anger furrowing her muzzle. Her stance widens.

Good. Tobias thinks these idiots need a lesson, too.

“How about you stop blaming people who never asked to be brought here in the first place?!” Nia snarls. “W-They have nothing to do with the earthquakes!”

The heliolisk doesn’t even try to retort. He simply hisses again and leaps forward to attack, crackling with electricity. Tobias and Nia tense to counter him, and—

A jet of water shoots between Nia and Tobias. It hits the heliolisk, knocking him out of the air. A second and third burst of water hit the mudbray and maractus and sends them sprawling back into the mud.

Someone steps up beside Tobias. Surprised, he looks up, only to see Calder’s tall figure, lidded eyes cold.

“Kern, I told you you were not to go picking fights. Especially with the humans.”

“The humans?” The heliolisk spits mud out of his mouth, tail lashing. “When’re you gonna stop protecting them, Calder? It’s only been a month since Pan was killed. Pyre’s little girl was hurt in the last quake. How many have to die before you realize they’re a problem?”

Calder’s hand, right at Tobias’ eye level, curls into a fist. Something angry in Tobias’ chest delights in it.

“Kern,” Calder says, voice hard. “Go home. Now. This isn’t a fight you’re going to win.”

The heliolisk glares, and for a moment Tobias thinks he’s going to lunge again. Nia is still just as tense and battle-ready as Tobias. The rain continues to fall, dripping from Tobias’ hood.

Finally, Kern scoffs and turns to leave, slapping muddy water their way with his tail. Tobias steps back, baring his teeth. The mudbray glares at Calder before following, and the maractus nervously hops after them. The girafarig is nowhere to be seen, somehow having slipped away during the argument.

Calder turns to crouch in front of the stunky and smoliv, helping the grass type to his feet. “Are you two all right?”

The smoliv, still sniffling, offers a weak smile and a nod. Stunky gives the tall water type a word of thanks.

“You both should head home,” Calder says. “I’ll talk to Kern.”

Smoliv and Stunky lean on one another, and give Nia and Tobias a grateful look before hurrying off into the rain.

For a moment, all is quiet. Then, in the distance, the splashes of someone running towards them. Tobias tenses, but relaxes again once Samir comes into sight, breathing hard. The skiddo glances at Nia and Tobias before settling on Calder.

“Already scared off the troublemakers,” Calder says. “Guessing you heard word of another squabble breaking out?”

Samir nods.

“‘Nother fight directed at one of the humans.”

“It’s not the humans’ fault,” Nia says quietly, voice wobbly. “They didn’t even ask to be brought here.”

Calder nods, turning in the direction Kern and his cronies left. “‘M well aware, Riolu. Kern is just scared out of his wits. Lookin’ for someone to blame.”

“Still stupid,” Tobias says bitterly. He can’t believe he used to believe that nonsense himself. Or at least didn’t care enough to find out the truth.

Samir flattens their mouth, thoughtful as they follow the inteleon’s gaze. Then, they gouge something into the mud with their hoof and splash twice to catch everyone’s attention.

Nia turns her head to read it before it can be washed away. “Stranger?”

Calder hums. “You’re right. I don’t know the girafarig. Seen ‘em come into town yesterday with their son. Seems like they might be stirring’ up trouble we don’t need. I’ll find ‘em and give him a talking to.”

The inteleon glances over Nia and Tobias once more, as if to check for injuries, then sets off in the direction Kern fled.

Tobias is kind of surprised that Samir doesn’t follow him. Instead, the skiddo looks to Nia, brow furrowed with quiet concern. They tilt their head.

Nia gives the grass type a weak smile. “I’m fine. Thanks. Just…I know some humans. They’re wonderful.”

Tobias is too distracted to fully appreciate Nia’s decent cover story. The stinging rain is really starting to hurt.

He nudges Nia and heads for the nearest unoccupied building with a front porch. He sighs in relief once he sits on the wood underneath, the rain beating on the canopy overhead. Still damp and uncomfortable, but nothing like the feeling of sharp claws poking at his scales.

After a moment, Nia follows, Samir on her tail. Tobias isn’t even surprised—he’s noticed that she tends to collect lonely Pokemon, like they get trapped in her orbit.

She picks a far corner of the porch to shake off, then returns to his side and plops down, a little too close. He can see she’s upset about what just happened, though, so he doesn’t say anything.

Samir settles hesitantly on Nia’s other side, glancing at them as if to gauge if this is all right.

“I don’t know why they keep blaming humans for everything,” Nia sniffs after a long silence. She wraps her arms around her knees. “They didn’t ask to be brought here.”

Something about that sentiment jabs at Tobias—is it really so bad here, aside from jerks like that?—but he swallows it down. “Pokemon like that are just a few ‘mon short of a falinks.”

Nia snorts, giving him a weak flash of a smile. “Guessing that means they’re not too bright?”

“Yup.”

Samir shifts, looking like they want to say something. After a few moments, they sit up and use the wet mud on their hoof to write a short, messy message.

Tobias and Nia both turn their heads, trying to read it.

TOWN GOOD

“Town…good?” Nia echoes, clearly just as lost as Tobias is.

The skiddo nods, then jerks their chin in the direction the stunky and smoliv ran off. Then down the road, to the saloon, where warmly lit windows and a rabble of voices can be seen and heard even from a few buildings down.

“Oh,” Nia murmurs. “You’re trying to tell us that they’re good people, despite…well, everything.”

Samir nods, just once. Resolute.

“Sure. Except those four from earlier,” Tobias mumbles.

Samir raises their brows and tilts their head at Tobias, as if to say, Okay, except them.

Tobias snorts.

Nia sighs. “I know. There are jerks everywhere. And I know there are good people here, too.”

“Like Pyre?” Tobias drawls.

Nia’s expression fades into a thoughtful frown. “Did you hear what that lizard said? He said Pyre’s daughter got hurt in the last quake.”

Oh, right. Tobias had already forgotten about that.

Samir nods, catching their attention.

“Bad?” Nia asks, looking worried.

Samir makes a so-so gesture.

“Well no wonder he didn’t like us asking about the quakes,” Nia murmurs, looking remorseful as her ears pin back. “He probably doesn’t even want to think about them.”

“Still didn’t have to get so aggressive,” Tobias mutters, even as most of his ill will towards the camerupt bleeds away.

The three of them sit in silence for a few minutes, listening to the patter of the rain as it falls, slowly making puddles and tiny trenches out of the wheel tracks and footprints in the road. It’s only late afternoon, but it feels later, the sky dim and clouded over. The rain seemed to come on so quickly, for such a nice morning. Almost feels like the town has as much a rain problem as an earthquake problem, considering this is supposed to be a desert.

“Should we try talking to more townsfolk at Deidra’s place?” Nia finally asks.

Samir lifts their head from where they’d laid it on their hooves, giving the riolu an incredibly exasperated look.

“We haven’t found any hard proof yet, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there!” Nia protests the silent jab, throwing her arms up. Huffing, she pushes herself to her paws and hops down the steps to the muddy ground.

Tobias groans and pushes himself up too, reluctantly pulling his hood over his head and following her, cringing at the water and mud against his feet. It doesn’t necessarily hurt on his tougher soles, but it doesn’t feel great either.

“How long do we stick to the foul play theory without any evidence?” Tobias asks as he catches up to her. “I feel like we’re getting nowhere fast. What if they really are just regular earthquakes and Asra has terrible luck?”

They’re approaching the garganacl who had been yelling about angry gods earlier. He’s just standing out in the rain like a weirdo. Tobias steers Nia around him in a wide arc, not wanting to deal with that again.

Nia glances back at the towering Pokemon. “It couldn’t actually be the legendaries causing these quakes, could it..?”

“Unless they’re suddenly back from wherever they went for their decades-long nap and decided to spite Asra specifically? Doubt it.”

They finally make it back to the saloon, stepping inside to light and chatter. Nia wipes her paws at the door, and Tobias follows her lead before moving closer to the bar. He can hear the quiet tap of Samir’s hoofsteps following them.

They pass the construction crew on the way, all of them crowded around two tables shoved together. Looks like they’re playing cards and betting stacks of poké.

The dewott boss they met earlier, Eddy, reaches into a pouch and slaps more coins on the table. The other ‘mon all jeer and shout excitedly, one obnoxious ursaring guffawing about him being an awful big spender for such a little Pokemon.

Tobias rolls his eyes. Must be nice to have bags of cash to throw away. He would actually be able to afford that little guitar in Granite’s shop if he were so lucky.

They finally make it to the bar, pulling themselves up onto the stools. Samir hops onto their own with impressive grace.

“Hey, Deidra,” Nia greets tiredly. “We’re back.”

The lopunny, strangely enough, doesn’t respond. Tobias glances up from where he’d been looking at the scabbed-over wound on his leg.

Deidra is standing stock still, her long ears twitching. A long-forgotten pitcher is held in one of her paws. She’s staring at the nearest dirty glass on the counter. A little leftover juice is still present.

It’s…rippling, ever so slightly.

Tobias straightens up, a bad feeling growing in his gut.

“Deidra?” Nia asks, hesitant.

The lopunny’s pink eyes widen with alarm. Then she shouts, loud enough to be heard over the din of the crowd, “Quake incoming!”

The noise dies away as Pokemon stop eating and drinking and gambling, all of them looking to her with startled expressions. For a moment, there’s a terrible silence.

Tobias hears it before he feels it. First a low hum, like a distant hive of beedrill. Then the rattling starts. The glasses behind Deidra start to clink against one another like chimes.

Tobias hears some Pokemon behind him shout—a few thumps, the frantic scrape of chairs scooting away from tables.

And then the earthquake hits. Tobias can feel it shifting under him like the one time he’d ridden on a boat at sea. Rough, choppy waves, tugging the earth beneath him one way and then another, making everything in his vision blur.

He grips the edge of the counter, terror blooming in his gut as he grits his teeth. Deidra has disappeared from view. A few glasses shake free from the shelf and shatter to the floor. The paintings and pictures on the walls bounce and clatter.

And Tobias realizes he doesn’t know what to do in an earthquake. In hindsight, maybe that was the first thing they should’ve asked upon arriving to Asra.

But then Nia is grabbing his arm and dragging him off the stool to scoot under the counter, pressing close to his side. Samir quickly joins them, even the steady skiddo wobbling as the shaking intensifies.

The wooden foundations of the building itself seem to creak and crack. Tobias hears a loud snap like a tree broken in half, followed by a deafening crash. More frantic shouts and noise.

The shaking continues.

It feels like forever. It feels like an instant.

And then, slowly, too slow to realize until it’s nearly finished, it all stops. Silence rings in Tobias’ ears. It’s broken only by the occasional clatter of an item dropping to the ground, and the roaring of his heart.

He blinks and realizes he’s clutching Nia’s arm in a death grip. He slowly, numbly convinces his fingers to let go. Nia, eyes huge with fright, glances at him.

“I-Is it over?” She whispers.

“Dunno,” he mumbles, blinking hard and trying to determine if the shaking he thinks he feels is just an echo of the experience bouncing around his skull. He thinks so. He’s starting to hear the faint traces of voices piping up from the rest of the room.

Slowly, he crawls out from under the counter, eyes immediately drawn past the nearest toppled chairs and tables and crouching Pokemon to where rain is pattering inside one half of the building.

A support beam fell. Crashed through the far wall. Luckily didn’t take the whole building down with it, but a good chunk of it. The floorboards around that area are a good half-meter deeper than the rest of the building, as if a slab of earth right below was ripped out from under it.

The only bright side is that Tobias doesn’t see any Pokemon trapped under the worst of the wreckage. There are a few getting to their feet who are clutching at their heads or leaning into each other, but Tobias doesn’t see any immediate, fatal injuries.

“I-Is everyone all right?” Deidra’s voice calls, shaky but clear.

Tobias glances back to find the lopunny leaning on the bar, looking out over the patrons. Blood is trickling from a gash on her head down into her cream fur. Her gaze flicks to Tobias, Nia, and Samir as they emerge, and something in her expression lightens with relief.

There’s a smattering of halfhearted calls and some thumbs-up, the Pokemon around them helping their neighbors back to their feet.

“Thank goodness. Hope the rest of the town is all right, too,” Deidra mutters, hobbling out from behind the bar with a fluffy paw to her head. She eyes the decimated half of her saloon with something between grief and exhaustion.

Samir stiffens at the lopunny’s words, ears dropping and eyes widening.

“What—“

They take off through the gap in the wall and to the left, bounding through mud and puddles towards the other end of town.

“Samir!” Nia calls, reaching after them. She looks to Tobias with worried eyes. “What was that about?”

Tobias shrugs.

“Do you think they’re all right? They looked really freaked out.”

“Probably just checkin’ on miss Leila and her little one,” A deep voice says behind them, making Nia jump.

It’s Cody. The aggron was with Eddy’s crew, but he’s now helping Deidra sit, peering at her head wound. He nods a distracted greeting to them.

“Leila?”

“The lilligant down the road. She’s the one they’ve been boarding with the past few weeks.”

“Oh,” Nia murmurs, relaxing a bit. “I hope she’s all right.”

“Me too,” Cody rumbles, gaze flicking to the severe damage to the building. “That was a nasty one. All this rain’s making the soil too soft; the building’s foundations must be slipping.”

“What can we do to help?” Nia asks, paws wringing and eyes round with worry.

“Worry about yourselves first, hun. I’m sure Calder’s checking on everyone already,” Deidra says.

“We are Seekers, it’s kind of our job to help,” Tobias points out, watching Deidra carefully, checking her balance. “I used to be an herbalist, so I know a little bit about medical stuff.”

Cody looks surprised by that. Deidra waves Tobias off at the unspoken inquiry he must be radiating.

“A glass fell and cut me—I didn’t hit my head. Go check on the rest of the town then if you don’t mind, sweetheart. Just be careful.”

Tobias hesitates, but Cody nods to him. “I’ll watch her. Go see if Calder needs any help. And watch out for aftershocks.”

Nia weaves her way to the front door instead of the giant hole in the building, stopping along the way to quietly ask if everyone is all right. Tobias follows in her wake, flipping up his hood as they cross into the rain.

“Should we just go around and make sure no one needs help?” Nia asks. “Or look for Calder?”

“Don’t see why we can’t do both,” Tobias answers, looking one way and then the other. He can see townsfolk crowding the streets either way, their nervous voices a rabble of sound.

Nia’s ears twitch. “Should we…split up?”

Tobias’ mouth flattens unhappily. They rarely split up in a potentially dangerous situation, but… “Probably. We can cover more ground that way.” The town is small, but still too big for something like this.

Nia says she’ll take the east side of town, probably hoping to follow Samir and check on that lilligant. Tobias doesn’t protest, simply telling her to watch out for aftershocks before turning to start on his half.

Right away, one thing becomes clear: the town is a mess.

Either this quake was notably worse than the ones before, or the town has gotten proficient at making repairs, because Tobias doesn’t know how they could have missed this level of damage before.

Most buildings weren’t hit quite as hard as Deidra’s saloon, but there are still broken shutters hanging from their corners and lopsided steps sinking into the mud. A few signs have fallen from shop fronts to spear wooden porches. One of the nearest carts is tipped over, a few crates and goods spilled out into the mud. Shallow fissures divide the dirt into a giant jigsaw puzzle.

At least the rain has finally stopped.

And of course, the townsfolk are in a tizzy. Neighbors are bustling around the muddy streets, chatting anxiously with one another. A graveler and trapinch nearby say something about going to check on some old ‘mon named Roger.

Tobias takes a breath and tries to channel Nia’s obnoxious sense of helpfulness. He approaches the first of the Pokemon who seem like they might need help righting their property or dealing with injuries. One turns to two, then three, and he moves from Pokemon to Pokemon, checking in on each little cluster of townsfolk to see who needs him next.

“Thank you so much, little flame,” a red oricorio with an injured wing says as Tobias splints it up with a small rod of broken wood. Her friend, a watery-eyed wooper, nods gratefully.

“‘S not a permanent fix,” Tobias says, tightening the scrap of handkerchief they had on hand for him to use. “Go to the town doctor as soon as you can so it doesn’t set wrong.”

“Still,” the oricorio says, waiting until Tobias reluctantly meets her eyes to smile. “We’ve been on our own for a while, other than Samir. And Calder can only do so much on his own. It’s been scary, dealing with all of this—even this bit of help means a lot for our peace of mind.”

Once again, the teary wooper nods his head so hard Tobias is afraid he’ll give himself a concussion.

Tobias frowns down at the wing held delicately in his claws, something about that sentiment settling cold and hard in his gut. He came to Fort Asra to get info about Team Zenith, but…these Pokemon really do need their help.

A new fire lights in Tobias’ chest. He huffs, straightening up and nodding to the pair. “Well…we’ll do our best to help however we can.”

Tobias moves into helping the other Pokemon with a bit more vigor, checking bumps and bruises and crying Pokemon for serious injuries. Others request that he help them straighten out damaged carts and wooden stalls, worried about their livelihood breaking apart if left overnight.

“Push!” The lycanroc in charge of their current operation barks. He leans into the side of the downed cart with his full body.

Tobias and the other Pokemon recruited to help grunt and follow the order, using their full weight to push back against the cart. Slowly, it starts to tip upright again, the mud sucking at its creaking wood. Tobias growls, muscles straining, and turns with the other Pokemon once it’s halfway upright to use his arms.

Finally, the cart settles loudly back on its wheels. Covered in mud—much like Tobias himself—but in one piece. The Pokemon around Tobias cheer, a few high-fiving or letting off harmless attacks in celebration. A grapploct uses two of its tentacles to give Tobias a hearty slap on the back that makes him wince.

But their cheer is infectious, and Tobias quietly returns their smiles with a small grin of his own.

Then it’s back to moving from building to building and ‘mon to ‘mon, checking for injuries and anything else Tobias can help with. Find a crying child’s mother. Try (unsuccessfully) to calm down an anxious old primeape until her friend finally arrives to take her to the town doctor. Help clear a downed beam from a porch so the Pokemon living there can actually open their front door.

At one point, Tobias sees Samir pass him by, loaded down with medical supplies. The skiddo looks determined but calm, so Tobias assumes their boarder and her kid are fine.

He stops the skiddo and takes some of their stock of berries and gauze with him so he can better help patch up injuries.

By time Tobias has made it through his half of the town, night is falling. He’s covered in mud and absolutely exhausted. Still, he hadn’t ran across any Pokemon with life-threatening injuries and counts himself lucky for that. He hopes Nia had similar good fortune.

Tobias just…needs to take a breather. He groans and sits on the corner of someone’s porch, rubbing at his eyes. No wonder Samir has looked absolutely exhausted since Nia and Tobias met them. If they and Calder were the only ‘mons running around to help everyone after incidents like this, Tobias can’t imagine how they managed it.

Tobias looks up as he hears quiet footsteps approach, surprised but relieved to see a familiar blue and black Pokemon.

“Hey,” he says. “How’d things go on your end?”

Nia gives him a weak smile, clearly just as exhausted as he feels. She hops up on the porch to sit beside him.

“Lots of small injuries. One or two Pokemon probably have broken bones, but Calder sent the doctor to help them so I think they’ll be okay. Plenty of damage, though. You?”

Tobias nods. “Pretty much the same.”

There’s a moment of quiet. Tobias watches as lamps start lighting in the windows of some of the nearby buildings, glowing against the dark of dusk. The silhouettes of Pokemon are still out and about, moving from one building to another, busy but no longer panicked.

“We need to figure out the cause of these quakes,” Nia murmurs, following his gaze.

Tobias grunts his agreement.

“I hope Granite and Takeo are okay. I got called away before I could check on them so Calder said he’d stop in.”

“They seem tough,” Tobias replies, pointedly ignoring the fact that Takeo almost died from one of the previous quakes. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

Nia looks unconvinced, nervously drumming her fingers against the wood of the porch.

“C’mon,” Tobias sighs, slipping off the porch and to the mud. “Let’s head back for the night.”

Nia gives him a surprised look, so he shrugs. “We can’t do much for repairs at night anyways. Or investigating.”

Nia hesitantly nods, following him down to the ground as he picks his way back across town. “Right. We…we can pick the search back up tomorrow, when everyone is less rattled. We need a new approach, anyways.”

Tobias wholeheartedly agrees.

They make it back to the shop as the chill of night starts setting in. Tobias creaks open the front door, the jingle of its bell absent. He spots the dented metal bell on the floor, surrounded by all the other items that were shaken right off the shelves during the quake.

For a brief moment Tobias fears that the quake did hit this building hard, that something happened despite the soothing glow of a lamp dimly lighting the room.

Then he sees two somewhat familiar forms half-hidden behind a shelf, casting heavy shadows. Granite and Takeo look up from where they’re gathering the broken shards of what used to be some kind of jar, simply giving them a welcoming nod.

“Glad to see you two’re in one piece,” Granite says. “How’s the rest of town?”

“Some injuries,” Nia reports, carefully stepping around the mess to reach them. “But nothing too serious.”

“Lots of damage, though,” Tobias mumbles, eyeing the items scattered across the floor. “Cody thinks the mud is making the buildings more unstable.”

“Any deaths?” Takeo rasps.

Nia shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. None that we heard of, at least.”

“Good, good.”

“If you’ve already checked on the town, help us clear this mess before someone steps on something and hurts themselves.”

Tobias reluctantly joins the two older Pokemon, taking the brush and dustpan that Takeo hands him. Granite gives Nia a burlap sack to collect any broken bits of their stock.

By time it’s all cleaned up—or at least out of the way so Granite doesn’t accidentally smash any of it underfoot—Tobias feels ready to sleep for a week. He’s been drenched in rain and shaken around by an earthquake, and as a fire type he thinks he deserves a little rest.

Nia managed to cut her hand on the little mirror they’d seen before, now in shards in Granite and Takeo’s trash can, and that was apparently the final straw because she looks just as done with the day.

But Granite insists they eat, and makes them sit down at the kitchen table.

“We’ve still got some beans ‘n bread left over from lunch. At least eat some of that before bed.”

Tobias is too tired to argue, and rests his head on his arms. Nia slumps against the table to his right.

“So,” Granite says, using a piece of flint to light some fire and warm up the food. “I know you’re both tuckered out, but that was the nastiest quake yet. Did you find anything out before it hit?”

For once, Nia doesn’t look eager to talk. She does after a beat of hesitation, sharing what little they know with much less energy than usual. That’s how you know she’s really tired.

When they’re done reporting on their disastrous attempt at gathering intel, Granite snorts a laugh.

“Sounds like a lot of useless drabble to me.”

Nia’s ears pin back. Before Tobias can snap at the donphan, he brings the heated food back over along with two unbroken plates.

“But you never know,” Granite says, looking pleased when Nia and Tobias immediately reach for the leftovers. “Could help you pull it all together down the road.”

Nia hums happily, some life visibly pouring back into her as she munches on the bread, dipping it into beans and gravy. Tobias relates—he’s so hungry that this tastes like the best food he’s ever eaten.

They clean the plate of leftovers in no time. Granite happily takes back their plates, chatting something about them needing full bellies to find the scoundrel responsible for this whole mess.

Nia and Tobias exchange a doubtful look. Granite, unfortunately, catches it, frowning as he dries a plate with a towel held in his trunk.

“What?”

Nia fiddles with the tablecloth. “W-Well, it’s just…we don’t mean to doubt you, but we still haven’t found any proof that the earthquakes are actually being caused by someone. Intentionally.”

Granite huffs, long ears twitching. “I told you how localized they are—how else would you explain them only hitting Asra this often?”

“An angry god?” Tobias suggests sarcastically, chin propped up on a fist.

“I see you met Roger.”

“Nice guy.”

Granite huffs a laugh. “He is. Just a bit superstitious. No, can’t imagine the legendaries would have somethin’ out for quaint little Asra. ‘Sides, this town has been here since before they up ‘n vanished—we woulda known if any of them made their home underneath our feet.”

“Could it be some other kind of Pokemon underground?” Tobias asks with a frown. “I know you said you didn’t sense any move energy, but if they’re big enough…”

Although he’s not sure which Pokemon would even be strong enough to burrow through desert rock and soil like that without using moves.

“Asra’s been here over a hundred years. At this point. Any burrowin’ mon would have to know they’d be putting the town in danger if they tried diggin’ underneath it.”

“But if that was the case, what would even be the motive?” Nia huffs, putting her face on her fists and squishing her cheeks. Tobias can tell it’s killing her to not be able to figure this out. “They aren’t targeting anyone in particular, nothing good is coming of it. The only thing the quakes are accomplishing is destroying every other building in town!”

“And we don’t think being set in a canyon would make the town more susceptible to natural quakes, right?” Tobias asks.

“‘S far as I’m aware?” Granite asks. “No.”

Great.

Tobias stares blankly in Nia’s direction, about to call it for tonight and find somewhere on the floor to pass out. His partner is picking at the small bandage wrapped around her paw, frowning hard in thought. He can’t believe she cut herself on that mirror. There’s gotta be some stupid metaphor in there about—

Wait.

Tobias sits up, the slow gears of his mind picking up pace. Nia must see it, because she echoes his posture, looking at him intently.

Mirror. Mirrorstone.

Of course.

“The mines,” Tobias says, looking sharply to Granite. “You said this used to be a big mining town, right?“

Nia’s mouth drops open to a little “o” as she catches on.

“I see where you’re going with this,” Takeo’s voice pipes up, pulling everyone’s attention to the doorframe to the back, where the bug type is leaning against the wall. “But the mines never ran under the town.”

Granite snorts. “We wouldn’t be dense enough to do something like that. That’s just asking for the town to eventually level itself a mile deep. Nah, all the mining was done on the outskirts of town, in the walls of the canyon.”

Tobias groans, flopping back down. He really thought he’d had something there.

“No, wait, this could still be important,” Nia says, a tad too desperate.

Takeo shakes his head. “Calder and Pan already checked out the mines a month ago.” His face darkens. “That’s how Pan was killed. Cave-in while they were investigating. Calder almost got caught in it too.”

Nia looks between the two older Pokemon. “But…did they actually finish the investigation? Or did that cut it short?”

For the first time, Takeo falters. “I...don’t know that. Although I’m pretty sure if Calder suspected anything to do with the mines, he’d have went back himself.”

“Plus, even if the mines are collapsin’, that shouldn’t be enough to cause big quakes like we’ve been gettin’,” Granite points out, glancing at Takeo for confirmation. “We’d hear it first, for one. Darn near everything echoes in this canyon if it’s loud enough. And that would make the canyon walls crumble, not the ground under our feet.”

Tobias thinks all of that seems like pretty sound logic. Still, whether it’s because it’s the only new lead they’ve thought of or because something about mines and tunnels seems too relevant to earthquakes, Tobias wants to look into it further.

“Say we want to check out the mines anyways,” he starts.

“No.”

Nia and Tobias both blink at Granite’s serious cut-off.

“Um…no?” Nia echoes weakly.

“Mines are off-limits ever since the cave in,” Takeo says.

“And I don’t need you squirts’ deaths on my conscience,” Granite huffs.

“But—“

Granite’s face hardens. “Don’t go lookin’ in those mines, you hear? I’m serious. It’s dangerous.”

Nia frowns. “What if we ask Calder first?”

Takeo chuckles. “Calder will kick you out of the canyon altogether before willingly letting you kids into those mines. He’s been extra cautious about them ever since Pan.”

“Fine,” Nia sighs, slumping forward.

Tobias looks at Nia, surprised by his headstrong partner giving up so quickly. But then he sees the thoughts still going a mile a minute behind her ruby eyes.

She’s going to drag them straight into those mines tomorrow, isn’t she?

Tobias bites back a laugh. And everyone back at the guild thinks he’s the troublemaker in this partnership. Nia is just as bad. She’s just sneakier about it. And nicer.

“Well. We’ll figure out our next plan tomorrow,” Tobias says, stretching.

Nia looks at him now, surprised. He just raises his brows in response. Does she want him to play along or not?

“O-Oh! Right. Um, we’re really tired. Is it all right if we go to bed?”

Takeo looks at them for just a beat too long, and Tobias wonders if the spidops suspects what Tobias knows they’ll end up doing tomorrow. Still, the bug type eventually sighs and waves over his shoulder for them to follow.

They do, and Tobias is happy to see the spidops lead them to a tiny side room that looks to be the two’s office, with a desk and some old cabinets bursting with files. A few spare cushions are thrown into one corner.

“This work for lodgings?” Takeo asks.

Nia gratefully flops face-first into the heap of cushions.

Tobias snorts. “Yeah, this is fine.”

“Thank you!” Nia says, voice muffled.

Takeo almost smiles, shaking his head before heading out of the room, cracking it closed behind him.

Night is falling in earnest now, but within the small room it’s cozy and free from the desert chill. Tobias’ tail flame gives them a warm light to see by. He walks over to Nia and nudges her with his foot until she whines, rolling over to make room for him.

He yawns and plops down beside her, shifting to make himself comfortable. He can feel Nia’s eyes on him.

“So…tomorrow,” she starts, subtle as a copperajah.

“We’re going to the mines?”

Nia startles, lifting her head to stare at him like he’d read her mind. He gives her an unimpressed look in return.

She laughs, sheepish. “Okay, okay. Are you all right with that?”

“Whatever we need to do to solve this stupid mystery, save the town, and get Rosalind’s info,” Tobias yawns. He thinks of all those Pokemon he saw after the quake today, injured and scared. “…either way, these Pokemon need our help.”

Nia smiles at him before stretching out and getting comfortable. “Awesome. We’ll do that then.“

Tobias hums in response, eyes slipping closed. They’ve got a big day of investigation ahead of them, and he’ll need to be ready for it.

—————————————————————

Tobias wakes Nia at dawn and quietly leads the way outside, hoping to bypass any interrogation that Takeo or Granite might try to spring at breakfast. Nia isn’t thrilled by the early hour or by skipping food, but her tired glare shifts to a pout of acceptance when he promises they’ll get food after checking out the mines.

The town is already waking up despite the early hour, Pokemon getting back to their jobs and town repairs right away.

“Early risers,” Nia notes.

“Who we should try to avoid the attention of,” Tobias whispers, dragging the riolu off the main road and down a side street.

Nia blinks at him. “What? Why?”

“Remember how Granite and Takeo freaked out when we mentioned the mines? We don’t want anyone else to know we’re heading to check them out.”

“Oh! Good point.”

Nia follows Tobias’ steps through the shade of the buildings and weaves around toppled barrels and cracks in the mud.

In a matter of minutes, they reach the edge of town, stopping to stare out at the expanse of sand and scraggly plants. The walls of the canyon tower ahead of them, maybe a mile out. They’re tall enough to block out the sky, save for the ragged circle of pale blue directly overhead. The rock is lined with layers of sediment, dusky red and pockmarked with rocky outcroppings and indents. Not exactly a smooth surface that makes spotting a mine very easy.

“Any idea where the nearest entrance would be?” Nia asks, squinting into the distance.

Tobias shakes his head, trying to scan the canyon walls with his sharper eyes. “We might just have to walk the perimeter until we find one.”

“That could take a while,” Nia says, frowning. “Especially if we’re trying to avoid anyone seeing us or—“

A quiet tap tap on the wooden wall behind them makes Nia shriek and Tobias jump, whirling around.

His heart sinks as he sees Samir. The skiddo is staring at the two of them, one eyebrow raised and mouth askew in an unimpressed look.

“S-Samir!” Nia laughs nervously. “Hey! Good to see you. We were just, uh…admiring the view!”

Samir gives her a glare, as if angry at how bad of a lie that was.

Tobias sighs, crossing his arms. “Fine. We want to check out the mines. Granite and Takeo said we shouldn’t, but we need to look into any possible leads.”

Samir gives them both a disappointed look.

“I know you don’t think it’s foul play,” Nia whines. “But we just…we need to make sure, okay, Samir?” She clasps her paws together pleadingly. “Pleeeaaase don’t tell anyone!”

Tobias doesn’t think Nia’s baby-doll eyes are going to work on Samir when they seem to take their job so seriously, especially under Calder’s command.

“We just want to stop the quakes and help the town,” Tobias adds. “And right now, this is the best lead we’ve got.”

Samir’s strong stance softens, their shoulders dropping. They sigh, glancing over their shoulder. Then they nod, slowly.

Nia steps forward, looking hopeful. “Does that mean you won’t tell Calder?”

Samir rolls their eyes, then scrapes some words into the still-damp dirt.

COMING ALONG

“You’re coming with us?” Tobias asks, surprised.

“Oh, that’s great!” Nia says, beaming at the grass type. “The more hands—uh, hooves? The better! Thank you.”

“Don’t suppose you know which direction to take?” Tobias prompts.

Samir nods and strides past them, confident and brisk as they leave the shade of the town. Nia and Tobias exchange a bewildered look, but quickly follow.

At first, Tobias doesn’t see any markers that dictate where they’re going, and he wonders if Samir just picked a random direction to walk. But the skiddo frequently glances down at the dirt, eyes skimming over the brown-gray rocks scattered among the dirt and scraggly patches of grass. It takes a few instances of this, but eventually Tobias realizes they’re following the very faint traces of a once well-trod path. Maybe the very one the townsfolk used to follow to go to the mines each day.

“Huh,” Tobias breathes, impressed.

It probably takes half an hour to reach the border of the canyon, where downed boulders and slabs of rock create an incline up to the canyon wall. Samir nimbly hops up rocks that are bigger than all three of them combined.

Tobias follows with admittedly less grace, digging his claws into the rough surface of the stone to scrabble his way up.

“W-Wait for me!” Nia yelps.

She’s trying to climb up the rubble, but failing to gain purchase with her dull claws. As he watches, she starts to slide back down, face panicked.

Tobias is hit with a powerful wave of deja vu. He snorts and leans over to grab her wrists, grunting as he pulls her up.

“Th-Thanks,” she pants.

“Still working on those climbing skills, I see.”

She gives him a playful glare. “Sorry, I haven’t had a lot of time to practice between all of our near-death experiences!”

“Excuses, excuses,” Tobias jokes, turning and spotting Samir’s leafy green back and a flash of their orange hooves a bit farther up the rubble. He follows, hearing Nia scrabbling behind him.

At first, Tobias thinks Samir possibly lost the trail somewhere along the way. It certainly doesn’t look like the mine is here. But then Tobias rounds one last boulder and stops, surprised by an opening in the cliff face. It’s a jagged square of black against the lighter stone, hemmed in by a rickety frame of wood. Half of it has been caved in, stones cutting into the perfect silhouette. Tobias can only see a few feet into the tunnel.

“Oh, that…doesn’t look safe,” Nia says, taking a step back.

Samir gives her a look, as if to say, No, really?

“This is our best lead, right?” Tobias asks, taking a bracing breath. “We don’t need to go in too deep. Just…take a look around and see if anything seems suspicious.”

“R-Right.”

Tobias swings his tail around to use as a torch. Then he steps forward into the darkness.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #charmander #skiddo #riolu #pmd seekers of soul #tesha draws #tesha writes

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