#(of letting go of the role he found himself in. no longer a leader or someone with control over others like he was as an executive) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

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Can I request more 2012? I really like your table tease story with Donnie BTW! My request is what do you think would be good turn ons and turn offs for the 2012 turtles.

Turn Ons and Turn Offs (18+)

2012!Turtles x reader

A/N: Of course you can!💚 And I’m happy that you liked it😘💜 These focuses mainly on the spicy stuff, but there’s also some general relationship aspects in there. As you know, not all turn ons has to be strictly sexual💙❤️ 💜🧡 (Btw, thought you all should know I wrote this while listening to Shady Lady by Ani Lorak).

All characters are aged up.

Warning: Talk about sex, and possible break ups. And spelling. My head did a upsi every once in a while.

Leonardo:

Turn Ons:

Your admiration for his leadership skills is evident, and Leonardo is drawn to your determination to better yourself, just like he always tries to better himself. He finds your disciplined nature and eagerness appealing, often finding himself lost in admiration as you dive into whatever you’re passionate about.

Your respect for tradition and loyalty to your friends resonates with his own values. Your ideas of a relationship matches up with his, and both of you found that you had the same goals for your love lives.

When you let him geek out and take an interest in his sci fi series, board games and martial art rants. It made him weak in the knees to have you sit next to him, listening intently to all his words.

Leo likes to view himself as an independent leader with a mind of steel, making the decisions and leading the flock. But, he did like it ALOT when you took control in the bedroom. It gave him a change to relax, and, well, you looked hot as fuck on top of him.

But as much as Leo LOVED it when you took control during intimate times, it made him feel like a true man and a real leader, whenever you looked to him for protection or help. It made you look so small and cute, and he could just eat you on the spot.

Training you. More than once a small training session between you and Leo had turned into a heated makeout.

Calling him Sensei. Leo will lose his shit and become dominant very quickly.

Your eyes. Leo loves to watch your eyes during sex. Both of you made a big deal out of looking into each other’s eyes during your climax.

Teasing. Him or you? It didn't matter. Leo just had a thing for teasing and foreplay, finding it amazing the longer it lasts.

Turn Offs:

If you did not understand his role as a leader and what it meant to him, Leonardo was OFF. Leo is committed to his given role, and he can become frustrated if he senses any disrespect towards their mission or disregard for his orders. That same goes for his partner, if they decided not to see how important it is for Leo.

He values structure and organization, so if you're too spontaneous or disregard the importance of training and preparation, it might put a strain on your relationship. It’s not that Leo doesn’t like a few spontaneous things, but he has a daily routine that he needs to follow.

Leo doesn’t like it when it gets too messy in the bedroom. Sure, he can get into the kinky stuff, and bodily fluids tend to get involved, but it has to be easy to clean. So it’s a big no when it comes to bringing food into the bedroom. Maybe something to drink so you can keep going, but other than a few snacks for movies, no food.

Degradation. Leo likes it when you call each other things; good boy, good girl, Sensei, slut has even been used, but he will never talk down to you. He’s not against talking about how much one of you was loving it, but peeling each other apart with words. Never ask or expect him to call you dumb, stupid or something worse, because he won’t do it.

If you bleed, either from a bite or Leo being a little too rough with you, he shuts the whole thing down. You can say you liked it, but Leo wasn’t having it. Blood meant pain, typically a pain that was way stronger than any pleasure. Leo did not like it, fearing that he was hurting you too much.

Raphael:

Turn Ons:

Your fiery spirit and unwavering determination catch Raphael's attention from the start. He's drawn to your confidence and independence, finding your willingness to stand up for what you believe in incredibly attractive.

Raphael appreciates your straightforwardness and isn't afraid to engage in some friendly banter and teasing with you, loving the challenge you present. Nothing could get Rapg in the mood, like when you returned his comment with an even fiery one, continuing back and forth until one was the ultimate winner. That winner tended to be the dominant one that night (even though Raph tended to take that role from you very quickly), or some very hot brat taming.

Just like playful banter, playful fighting could rail Raph up so easily, trying his best to keep you pinned to the ground. He found it adorable to watch you struggle against him, and at times he would let you think you had the upper hand, before he pushed you to the ground, smiling mischievously at you, your flustered expression keeping him going every time.

Rough sex is his favorite kind. Though he would never try to intentionally hurt you, he did have a thing for hearing you whimper and plead for him, often turning into a whole game of dirty talk.

Begging has Raph spinning. He could lose his mind, just to the sound of your begging. However, if you really want him to enjoy it, don’t beg straight away. Make him fight for it. That’s the most fun part.

This man LOVES spanking. It is the sound, and the way your flesh jiggles afterwards, and the reddening of your skin, almost matching the color of his bandana. Raph loves watching your ass turn red during doggy style, calling it proof that he has been the one doing this to you.

Sex outside the bedroom? This man will do it anywhere with you. All you have to do is ask, and he will do it.

Turn Offs:

While Raphael admires your independence, he can become frustrated if he feels like you're shutting him out or keeping secrets. He values honesty and loyalty above all else, so if he senses any deceit or manipulation, it could lead to some serious clashes between you two. He can easily become insecure, overthinking very quickly, and make up ideas in his head, based on things you once said. Just talk to him, it makes everything easier.

Raph’s not a fan of overly clingy behavior and needs his space to process his emotions. That does not mean that he doesn’t want you around, but sometimes, when he’s mad at his brothers, he just needs to punch a punching bag first, before he tells you what's going on.

Raph loves to choke you doing sex, but if you choke him, he will pull away. Make sure he’s okay with it before you do it, otherwise he will start gaining some real trust issues when it comes to your intimate activities. He may be open for it one day, but he NEEDS to know it before you get down and dirty.

Stay. AWAY. From. His. ASS. No finger, no nothing. He ain’t doing it. Nope. Nuh-uh. Your butt, hell yeah! But his butt? FORGET IT.

His tail too! Ask first, otherwise, he will get aggressive or just walk away.

If you as much as joke about getting down with one of his brothers, his done. Leave. Raph is a pretty insecure guy, so a small joke can easily break him. Don’t do that to the poor guy. He’s trying his best.

You can get your ass spanked and your throat used and choked, but he will never make you bleed. He wants you to enjoy it just as much as him, so as soon as you tell him you don’t like it, he will stop. He will shut the whole thing down, even if you protest, deciding to spend the time cuddling instead.

As much as Raph loves to do nasty things with you, don’t you dare tell anybody. It’s not because he doesn’t want people to know that you two are intimate, but he just doesn't want people all up in his and your very personal business.

Donatello:

Turn Ons:

Donatello is captivated by your intellect and curiosity, often finding himself engrossed in deep conversations with you about science, technology, and the mysteries of the universe.

He's drawn to your creativity and innovative thinking, appreciating your unique perspective on the world. Your passion for learning and exploring new ideas resonates with his own interests, creating a strong intellectual connection between you two.

Donnie is a BIG fan of phone sex. Masturbation together over the phone or sexting when you couldn’t be together. He loved it all. If you’re in the mood, just send him a pic and he is ready. He can fix whatever he was working on another time.

He has a thing for seeing you in his color. A purple shirt, or maybe even surprise him with purple underwear, and he will be ON. Sometimes he will even let you wear his bandana, maybe even wrapping it around you during sex. He just loved the sight.

Donnie LOVES dirty talk. All of it. He can be so sweet and caring on any other occasion, but during sex, he can talk so nasty to you, making you wonder where all that came from. But in truth, he had always been like that. It just took a person he trusted to bring it out of him.

Neither you or Donnie have a set role when it comes to sex. You feel like being submissive? Sure, then he’ll dominate you until your world starts shaking. Or let’s say that you feel like dominating, Donnie will happily be submissive, begging and pleading for you.

Let him watch you. Please! He finds it so hot!

Your purple genius turtle likes to try out news in the bedroom. He has a very open mind when it comes to your sex life, and will pretty much try anything you bring up, and things that has been thinking about for some time.

Turn Offs:

Donnie doesn’t have a lot of sexual turn offs, most of them having something to do with the maintenance of a relationship. But he will NEVER do anything you don’t want him to! Never ever! If you don’t want to, he will throw the idea away, prioritizing your comfort way more.

Donnie values honesty and transparency in a relationship, so if he feels like you're hiding something or being evasive, it can cause some tension between you two.

When it comes to relationships, he's also not a fan of recklessness or impulsiveness, preferring to carefully analyze situations before taking action. He wants to talk to you first, going through all the pros and cons, making sure that both of you are on the same page, and that nothing is left in the unknown. If you disregard safety protocols or act without thinking things through, it could lead to some disagreements.

Donnie is not always available, even though he really wants to be. Since he’s the only one that knows how to fix a toaster, his help is often needed in the lair. Therefore it would really discourage him in the long run, if you didn’t come down to visit him.

Cut him off during his long rambles about the newest thing he was working on, or show a general lack of interest in his work, and Donnie will quickly find himself rethinking the entire relationship. It’s not a lot he’s asking for, and his trying his best to make space for you in his life, so if you can’t give him that, is it even worth it?

Break some of his work on purpose, and he will feel like you have betrayed him.

Michelangelo:

Turn Ons:

Your fun-loving nature and sense of humor immediately click with Mikey's laid-back personality. He's drawn to your adventurous spirit and willingness to join him on spontaneous escapades around the city. Mikey loves your positive attitude and ability to find joy in the simplest of things, often finding himself laughing and smiling more when you're around.

There’s many ways to get Mikey in the mood, one of the easiest ones being just telling him. Whisper in his ear and tell him you’re in the mood, and you’ll find that he too will be in the mood. It doesn’t take much more than that.

Something as simple as cuddling could get him going. Hug him in a certain way that reminded him of how you would press yourself against him, and his mind would go wandering until he couldn’t contain his excitement anymore.

Dress up in something revealing, and Mikey will not be able to keep his hands from himself. Especially something that puts focus on your chest. It will definitely help with this boob man.

There’s no way around it, but Mikey will bring food into the bedroom, and he will find a way to involve it in your acts. Licking syrup off of each other, or maybe eating ice cream from your chest. If Mikey can think of it, he will do it.

Mikey genuinely wants sex to be fun and enjoyable for both of you. It is a light hearted and pleasurable affair, and he will not see any reason to stop before you and him are satisfied… for the time being.

Sneaking around in the lair and in the city above can also really get him going. Mikey can’t help it. The thought of getting caught did some very interesting things to him.

Does Mikey like to be a little submissive sometimes? Yes, yes he does.

Roleplay? YES! This man LOVES it! Anything creative in the bedroom and he is hooked!

Turn Offs:

Mikey is not a fan of negativity or pessimism, preferring to surround himself with positivity and optimism. He understands that not everything is a dance on roses, but if you continuously point out the negative, he can find himself growing quite bored or maybe even tired of the relationship.

If there is one thing Mikey can’t stand, it is when he is forced to put a damper on his imagination and creativity. Tell him no to a good roleplay one too many times, and he will become quite agitated.

Mikey understands that sometimes life gets serious, he does not like it when his sex life has to be serious too. Mikey is not against intense intimacy with eye contact and all that, but let him have fun dammit! Can’t he have fun, then what is the purpose?!

Stick to one position for too long, and Mikey will get bored. And once Mikey is bored, the mood is gone. Keep it interesting, listen to his suggestions and have fun.

Keep Mikey stuck in the bedroom for too long, and he will - you guessed it - get bored. If you won’t sneak around with him, he will feel utterly lost in boredom. It takes a lot to make Mikey rethink a whole relationship, but with everything combined, he may be getting close to that point.

And the worst of them all. Probably the one he would put as the base for a break up; make him feel or call him childish. Now, Mikey wouldn’t care if his brothers called you and Mikey immature and childish, but if you called him that, along with sucking all the fun out of his life, Mikey would call it quits. He wants to have fun with his partner, and if his partner refused to do that, he wouldn’t want to be with them.

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devnmon · 2 months

Text

Reason on the Common Tongue (of you lovin' me)

Dutch Van Der Linde x F!Reader

Summary: You’ve taken another man in camp out for drinks while Dutch was busy and unwilling to take the night off. Who’s to say he’s forgotten where you’d gone by the time you return?

wc: 5.8k

warnings: oral (f&m receiving, sir kink, rough!dutch, dom/sub roles, unprotected piv, orgasm denial, cumming inside (not recommended for irl experiences), sweet aftercare <3

a/n: anyone else insane about dutch van der linde? just me???? anyways just wanted to say this is filthy and also one of my favorite things i’ve written. i say that everytime i write something new but i truly love this fic. [who would have known this was going to be my first fic for rdr2.] also huge shoutout & credit to my moot jay @bandittlikemee for everything she’s done to help me write this fic. youre truly a genius bestie! also this is set in the clemen's point camp!

Dutch Van Der Linde was a busy man. So much so that he didn’t have time to get up to ludicrous activities such as drinking the night away in the Rhodes saloon. It was another sweltering night in Clemen’s Point; nothing exciting had happened for a few days on account of lying low to skip out on any face time with the Pinkertons. Since you’d been itching to get out of camp, and your ever-so-important leader wouldn’t spend a singular night with his partner drinking and dancing, you offered the trip up to a familiar gunslinger instead.

With a wave towards his tent, the two of you were off to the local saloon on the back of Arthur’s horse. It was long after dark before the two of you returned; you had been more indulgent than your companion, practically making Arthur carry you out to his horse before you got too inebriated on the drink. Being swept off your feet like Arthur had done felt like flying, especially when he sped up his horse on the ride back to camp.

“Whoo! That was one fun night, Mister Morgan. Even if you didn’t let me out on the dance floor.”

“Don’t you dare get sick on this horse b’fore we get back to camp.”

“I ain’t drunk!” you called out.

“Yeah, and I ain’t a gunslinger.” Arthur joked.

You both boasted with laughter and quips during the ride back into camp, fairly shortened by Arthur’s ability to ride a horse, and soon enough you were entering the clearing.

Dutch, spending his night nursing a cigar, perked up once he heard your familiar laughter in his ears. He knew the minute you’d left camp with Arthur, it was a mistake. Were you to blame? Or was he? Surely you could’ve known all he was combatting at the moment; the leader of a powerful gang, the Van Der Linde’s, had more on his plate than you could even fathom. Moves, and countermoves, he’d say. All in good time, Dutch has a plan.

To find out you’d left camp with Arthur of all men, his son, whom he’d raised since just a boy– was he a fool to you? Did you underestimate all he was capable of? Did you think him a fool?

He’d show you, indeed he was not.

Dutch took another deep inhale of his cigar, the tobacco filling his mind with a haze of your figure. Then he’d remembered who you’d been spending the time with. Another laugh escaped your lips, louder than usual, and his dark eyes found you sat on the back of Arthur’s horse, reaching toward the cowboy for assistance in getting down. He can’t help but glue his eyes to your waist, accompanied by Arthur’s hands for what seems to be a moment longer than he’d like.

Sat in silence, he's almost as red as his vest when you approach the tent.

“Hey, baby. Wish you came with us t’night. I almost punched a man for makin’ a crude comment toward me. You would’a loved to see it, the guy basically pissed himself when Arthur threatened ‘im.” You're slurring your words while babbling on incoherently; your balance is shoddy at best, and he doesn't even say anything until you mention his right-hand man.

"Have fun drinking with Arthur, dear? Was he able to... satisfy you?"

"Mhm, Arthur was very kind to me tonight." To even suggest you'd be satisfied being in the company of anyone else but him makes Dutch furious.

"Did he... rustle your feathers, dearest?" With the way he punctuated his words, you're a bit confused by what he means, since the drink's gone to your head.

"What'dya mean?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him by chance he'd forget Arthur was by your side all night instead of him. Dare you poke the bear.

"Did he–" he let out a breath of smoke, "Was he such good company that you'd forgotten about me? Your leader?" The grumble in his voice fans the flames in your chest; if you weren’t warm from the alcohol, you certainly were now.

Your glazed eyes make out the vision of Dutch, his silhouette darkened by one lamp still lit. When he starts sauntering towards you, step by slow step, you know he's not amused by all this Arthur talk.

"Mm, no, never." Your intoxication doesn't help you sound convincing, though sober you knows Dutch loves the reassurance.

"Sounds like you're lying to me, my love."

He flicks his cigar out of the tent and watches as you stumble to sit down in a chair facing him. Then your mind pulls you back to the events at the saloon– drinking with Arthur and watching him dance drunkenly to the piano– you're giggling at the image. But Dutch.. he's not finding this funny.

"What’s laughable, right now, dear? "He asks, accentuating the h sound while tilting his head at you down with his dark eyes.

"Jus'... Arthur was so fun to be with t'night. An’ I missed you... wish you'd come with us, handsome."

"Well I had to tend to more pressing matters, my darling. You'd only understand if you weren't so piss drunk right now. Maybe I ought to teach you a lesson about what company you should be keeping."

Dutch takes a seat on his cot, his right hand tapping the corresponding thigh. As if instinctual, you lunge yourself over to him and take your rightful seat.

Dutch has always been intimidating, it was one of the reasons you've become enamored with him. But when he narrows his eyes and guides them down your face and figure, close up? you're blushing out of being perceived by such a man of power in this world.

"What're you giggling about now?" he inquires, holding your head with his palm so you'll make eye contact.

"You're jus' so handsome, Mister Van der Linde. My sweetest, the most dashing man I've met."

"You, my dear, are adorable,” he began, and with a click of his tongue, he continued, “But, I still don't believe you. How ‘bout you… make it up to me, hm?"

At that point, you can already feel him hardening under you in his lap, and you clench around nothing. For the first time tonight, your voice shakes.

“What.. would you have me do?” You swallow nervously, wavering your eyes from his for a moment; he ordered your gaze be brought back to his immediately with the clearing of his throat. As if to check you for disobedience.

“On your knees… now.” Dutch’s voice lowered, his words putting a spell on you once spoken. Sliding down to your knees, your hands glided over his thighs for just a moment, letting the friction spike his legs with another level of desire to show you who you belong to.

“Don’t tease me, darling… lest I have to remind you why you’re on your knees for me.” Dutch’s eyes darkened once you were firmly on your knees, tongue darting out to wet your lips. It was as if a Greek god asked you to bow down to him and solely him– Dutch’s physique and natural manliness only contributed to that image of him in your mind.

Your hands reached for the button of his pants, pulling them down his muscular thighs to see his growing hardness underneath the cloth. For a minute, your palm brushed against his girth, earning a grumble from the man above you. It wasn’t lost on him the way you were acting, all innocent like you weren’t aware of the way you were making him burn for your touch.

Once your hands had them down far enough, the dark tuft of hair from his mound came into the light, which opened your eyes wide upon pulling it all the way off. Dutch’s length sprung upwards and caught your eye, especially frustrated and swollen, much like his growing displeasure with your actions. Freed from the confines of his pants and undergarments, his cock stood tall, lying well past his navel against that black vest of his.

As your grip surrounds his base, Dutch clears his throat once more whilst observing every move you made. Your thumb runs along the prominent vein sticking out and moving your hand up his length. He’s certain you aren’t aware just how vexed you had gotten him.

“Get to it.” he spat, enunciating every part of his words with that sharp wit and tongue. Without another second to spare, you licked the pearling precum resting on his tip, before enveloping it with your lips. Luckily for you, he filled your mouth quite nicely, his fingers running through your hair to grip tightly at the back of your head. Tongue running down the underside as you began to ravish him with your lips, he took the advantage to push you down a couple inches more.

With his tip almost nudging the back of your throat, you push down another inch or so and bobbing up and down on him to your heart’s content. The alcohol-buzzed vision of him, burning brighter with each inch you took further past your lips. Dutch rolled his shoulders and neck out in a slow motion, locking those gluttonous eyes of his back onto you with a smirk.

You came up for air with a pop of your lips, his erection shining under the warm light from your saliva.

“So big…” you whispered, stroking him with your hand and going back down for another taste. This time, Dutch was not simply fooling around; his hand forced you down rougher this time, the back of your throat welcoming him once again. It was ravishing to be put under the control of a man such as Dutch; the power he held over you was maddening and traveled to your head every so often. With the tip kissing the back of your throat after each shove down his length, your eyes begin to well up.

“Takin’ me so deep, love, you’ve got tears in your eyes. Now I have truly seen it all.” Releasing his hard grip for a moment, you come off his cock and wipe them away like they aren’t anything special.

“I’d do much more for you, sir.” You choke out, lips swollen from just his cock, and you press a kiss to his tip before sticking out your tongue and swallowing him whole again. The hand that was once gripping your hair was cupping your cheek, the other had undone two of his vest buttons, leaving his broad torso on display in just that white and blue striped shirt.

This time Dutch chuckles in that deep gravel of his, surging your heat with a plethora of warmth. His chest broadens with every exhale of fervent breath, the slow burn of dissatisfaction eating him up inside. Beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead, the knot in his groin tugging at him ever so slightly.

You let his length fill your throat wantonly, pushing yourself down enough to take every inch. Your nose became buried in the dark patch of curls he’d kept tidy, clearing his throat once more while relishing in the warmth of your tongue against him.

“You’re gonna taste me for days, sweetheart. Gonna – fuck – gonna remind you who you belong to. Make it so you don’t forget this time.” Dutch’s right hand combed through your hair, controlling your mouth’s movements down his shaft, saliva messily covering his skin. A particular thrust of your head in his grip pushes your nose into his curls, making you gag around him. It’s not much to remind him why you were his, the raw class he omitted an infectious disease; it just so happened to be you found under his spell.

Repeatedly, your head moved up and down his cock, Dutch gripping your hair and taking what he deserved. After all, you did take another man out to drink. How dare you not bask in the appreciation of his company otherwise? Dutch had no discretion– no temper to waste on explaining himself to you. You should have known he’d get mad.

On spur of the moment, his controlling movements halted and your tongue swirled around his tip. A feral growl erupted from his chest, painting your cheeks pink before releasing him to catch your breath.

“Mmmph, Dutch…” comes out as a whine, shifting the weight you’d been sitting on.

“What now, dearest? I don’t think you deserve to complain after what you’ve done.” His words manifest a wave of arousal scorching your skin and mind– Dutch was torturous in that regard. When he clicked his tongue, you knew there was only a matter of time until he truly took control. This was only the beginning of a very long night.

Dutch had a way of changing the temperature of a room with one fell swoop. To you, it was a life altering experience being under his discipline, especially in this setting.

Another whine escaped you, words eventually choked out, “I’m sorry, Dutch…”

He solely chuckled, sitting up and raising your chin with his index finger.

“That’s funny, my dear. You didn’t seem sorry when you stormed off and took Mister Morgan as company.” He sneered, the permanent smirk on his face, becoming bigger by the second. You clung to his words like water coating a piece of cloth, soaking up every syllable for a smidge of satisfaction.

“Please, I’m so…” you trailed off, your thoughts whisked away when you heard him chuckling.

“You’re sorry?”

Nodding almost instantaneously, he clicked his tongue.

“Fine. As much as I’d love to fill that sweet mouth of yours all night long, I’m itching for a taste of your perfect cunt. Come here.”

Two fingers motioned you towards him, tongue sticking out to wet his lips, while inclining his head at the vision of you still kneeling for him. Dutch didn’t miss the slightly pained sound as you relieved the weight on your knees, knowing they’d most likely be bruised tomorrow. He took incredible amounts of pride seeing himself in the bruises, teeth marks, and spend he left behind on your saccharine skin.

Your swollen lips wet from your tongue, sensitive thanks to the friction against his length moments ago. Still shy of that dark gaze when he too stood, a forefinger and thumb brought you right back to him.

“I need you to know…” he spoke breathlessly, crushing your lips to his in one motion. Dazed by his sudden affection and the thick tension in the room, you drowned in his taste.

Unbound by any other attachments, your soul was his.

Dutch’s lips pressed against yours were fervent and skillful, a new taste of himself on you. By the third peck, Dutch had forced his tongue into your mouth, venom coating your mouth. Intoxicating.

His right hand finds your waist, pulse hammering in your chest as that broad figure of his flooded your visual field up close.

“... that your actions have consequences.” His grip tightened around your jaw, tobacco on his breath as he spoke.

“Just because I don’t wish to accompany you to the town saloon for a drink does not mean you’re permitted to take the next desperate fella in company who’d so easily strike you from my arms.” That slight growl in his voice paired with the liquor in your system triggered the heat at the apex of your thighs to burn hotter.

“Arthur ain’t like that–” you slurred, getting cut off by a hiccup; a clear sign you were still not understanding how gravely Dutch was taking your little excursion out of camp. His voice was nothing but otherworldly, smooth and rich with charisma and magnetism. No surprise you obeyed his every word without question.

“I don’t remember asking for excuses,” he spat, smirking, “Let’s get you out of this dress..”

Those calloused yet talented hands of your leader find the back zipper quite easily, wasting no time by pulling it down your shoulders roughly. The fabric was tight, but with the level of Dutch’s strength, you wouldn’t put it past him to create a few rips. His movements were followed accordingly, still ravaged with the current indignation he held upon you.

Once you met his eye, seeming to shrink a bit more when looking up to him, that foreboding glare into you was similar to putting a flame near a stick of dynamite. There was no telling when he (or you) would explode. That dashing face of his created another spark inside you, one bold enough to pull his lips to yours once again. A hand grasped the back of your neck tenderly, the first soft action Dutch made upon your skin.

Don’t fall into his touch… you tell yourself. But the drink was too strong, and his venom made its way into your bloodstream. There was no turning back.

Aphotic, tantalizing eyes studied you, the only way you could sense his willingness to please after the fury that still embodied him.

“Satiate me...” he beckoned, walking you backwards to his cot where your knees met the side. Adhering to his plea, your back found the fabric and sighed amongst the sight of him above you. His hands never left your body, sliding down your back to the side of your leg, then moving to your inner thigh with the slightest touch before gripping it with his broad palm.

Suddenly the thin chemise was much too hot against your skin.

“Dutch, please…” you begged once again.

“Ah ah… that’s Mister Van Der Linde to you, my sweetness. You’ll receive the right to say my name when you’ve earned it.” His voice was like honey, eager fingers tugging at the white cloth. Dutch didn’t need permission, he gladly took what he believed to be his, no matter the cost. You swallowed thickly at the cool air prickling your skin with the tensity and vigor the man before you withheld.

“Yes, sir, Mister Van Der Linde…” you professed, breathlessly.

Dutch’s cock twitched upon the sir that fell from your lips. He chuckled, tightening his grip on your undergarment and dragging it down your skin. Your chest was exposed to him first, keen skin still layered with sweat and goosebumps while your nipples hardened against the nighttime air. You were just as he expected, breathing heavily and quivering under the first touch of his fingertips. Impatient, the garment was dragged down your legs by the older man and discarded on the floor.

Dutch’s hands parted your quivering thighs, calloused palms from years of using a gun gripping around you firmly. You could practically feel the flame of his gaze make its way up to the tuft of hair making an appearance from between your legs. He slid both palms up your legs, parting them accordingly so that your slick caught the light. Focused on his face, you notice his walnut eyes catch yours, immediately heating your cheeks.

It was meant to be; Dutch was your siren, luring you in with each word he manifested, every spill of his cherry wine words onto a white tablecloth. His mouth neared the thick curls protecting your supple skin from harm, a similar style in which Dutch protected his people.

“Such a divine sight laid out for me like this. I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to, have you come back to me.” The baritone and rumble in his voice was like nothing you’d ever heard before. He was quite honestly a man starved, no matter how angered he was at what you’d done.

Before you knew it, Dutch’s nose was poking your clit the slightest bit, meanwhile he’d pressed his tongue through your folds and covered himself in your taste. You gasped, your breath coming in ragged bursts as everything you’ve ever felt for Dutch comes flooding back in the blink of an eye. Each stroke of his tongue was another day you’d spent by his side, loyal to no other.

Your leader, your lover, your siren.

Nothing else filled your senses, except for Dutch Van Der Linde.

Those dark brown eyes were lidded against the lack of light, his tongue skillfully drinking in your sweet nectar as if it was his last meal. You danced across his taste buds and he groaned, the vibration sending your hips rolling against his mouth out of impulse. Exhaling sharply and continuing to breathe shakily, the tip of Dutch’s tongue circled around your sensitive clit.

“Fuck– sir… oh god,” He pressed a chaste kiss to your clit, breath hitching in anticipation. The flat of his tongue ran kitten licks up your folds, each movement sending a jolt coursing through you. Before you could protest, he ended another stripe up your cunt with a tantalizing drag against your sensitive bundle of nerves. It was particularly frustrating when he hummed against you once more.

“Hope this is reminding you,” he swallowed, “of where your loyalties lie. To whatever man you can get your hands on? Or me, your leader? The sole individual responsible for keeping this entire group pieced together?”

It was a no-brainer.

“You– fuck… My loyalty lies with you, Mister Van der Linde. I promise… never to take another man in company… again.” You breathed, in disbelief at how composed he was; you were a downright panting mess, but a goddamned sight laid out like this for him.

Upon your hips stuttering against his tongue, Dutch shifted closer to your core, hooking his large biceps around each of your thighs and gripped with his overpowering strength. The cool gold of his rings was a contrast to how hot your skin ran under his touch. That tongue of his circled around your clit repeatedly, until he pulled away to admire the mess he’d made of you in such short time.

“Fuck– oh god…” your nails ran through his jet black hair to grip at the back of his head. Dutch’s mouth worshiped each part of you equally, sticking his tongue inside you every so often; it was driving you mad.

Thinking himself clever, he pulled his right arm from gripping around your thigh. His rings ran across the vast expanse of your skin, trailing the chilled metal close to where you were most sensitive.

His amber eyes glanced upward, past the natural curves of your breasts to your fully blissed out expression; your eyes were scrunched together, mouth hanging open with bated breath. The haze of intoxication still coursing through you sent ripples of pleasure surging up your spine.

“I’ve decided to let you redeem yourself, my love. What would you say to that?” Dutch inquired, using that philosophical tone of voice he’s picked up from reading and quoting Evelyn Miller often.

“I’d do… anything to have you. To please you, to bring you bliss, sir.” Your breath quivers at the point of offering yourself to him in a plea to finally satisfy you.

“I’m not quite sure if you’re deserving of it– just yet, that is.” Maintaining eye contact with you, Dutch stood himself up to undo the buttons down his shirt and let it lay open under his red-backed vest.

“Been… been so good for you, sir. Please,” you implored him an inch further, watching his broad chest heave with deep breaths. His hand adorned with two thick gold rings heads straight for the belt buckle around his waist.

“Have you understood, yet, my darling? How I must be torturous? For it is the only way you’ll learn never to disobey, betray, leave me?” Dutch’s prophetic stance above you was truly enticing, the vibrato of his words coaxing another whimper from you.

“I’ve… understood, sir,” you eyed the belt coming undone within his skilled fingers and exhaled in relief.

“You’re going to have to do better than that to convince me. Speak, girl.” The astounding heat, not only flowing through your veins like hot magma, but also flooding your head and hazing your mind with him. Interested in what you had to say, he waited for your response and discarded his belt.

“Sir, I’m a fool… a fool thinking anyone else could satisfy me in the ways you do.” your voice quivered, breathing heavily and watching his hickory eyes study you. His black pants found themselves in a pile along with everything else he’d discarded from your body and his. “My leader, no one else can replace you, you’re the only man made to save people in the ways you did… even me. We’re– I’m so lucky to have you. And I’m– I apologize deeply for my actions, sir.”

He’d be hard pressed to admit the praise wasn’t intoxicating him at this moment, a growl erupting from his chest among his length stood tall against his exposed torso.

“Well, isn’t that nice. An admittance of your mistakes. Such a lovely difference from the snark I’d been given earlier. Hopefully you’ll learn your lesson.” He gripped the base of his cock and crawled above your supple figure on his cot, noticing your sharp inhale once he was fully perched above you. Dutch’s free hand parts your thighs, making room for his tip to slide through your folds, stopping below the little bundle of nerves that ached for any kind of stimulation.

It was easy for him to pick up on your sharp, quickened breaths upon his close proximity, scrunching your eyes shut to avoid that beckoning gaze of his.

“If this is going to work, my love, you must look. Observe how I split you open, how you take my cock, how I fuck you.” He snarled, pecking the side of your face with open-mouthed kisses. Your eyes fluttered open as if second nature, meeting his gaze while pushing himself completely inside of you.

His length filled you to the hilt, every ridge and groove of him welcomed by your warmth. Dutch breathed a moment with you, smashing his lips against yours to swallow the whimpers you omitted. Your hands ran up his chest, dragging your fingers through the thick chest hair to Dutch’s broad shoulders. He shrugged off the shirt and vest upon your hands sneaking under the cloth, leaving him fully bare to you.

The first drag of his cock against your insides manifested another filthy moan to secrete from your lips while he pushed back in.

“Sir–” you gasped, his natural musk clouding your senses. Dutch thrusted into you deeper, kissing that special spot inside of you to send you seeing stars. Quick as light, his thrusts picked up pace, setting a steady rhythm with his hips.

“Say my name.” Dutch’s voice in your ear echoed through your head like a mantra, the only thing bombarding your senses being him.

“Oh god, Dutch–” you choked out, his name on your tongue only spurring him on more to push deeper.

“Yes, that’s it, again.” he spoke between thrusts, clenching around him while pulling groans of his pleasure into the air. His cock has molded to your walls, relentlessly beating such a punishing pace.

“Dutch… ah-!” His name in your throat like a jewel only spurred him on more, humming approvingly and latching onto your neck with the sweet sucking of his lips. There was absolutely no chance of Dutch letting you get off easy without any showable marks. He had an inkling all the men in camp would think twice before making any advancing remarks toward you– lest they forget who you belong to.

A glance downward had you turning lightheaded– did he really always look that dashing? You’d become tantalized watching his girth disappear and reappear at least a dozen times before his fingers brought your gaze back to him. Each thrust of his hips was dizzying, picking up the familiar groans in your ear once again.

In this moment, you were completely and utterly his, transcending into a place of physical surrender and letting the world fall away. A particularly rough thrust had you calling out for him again, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat.

“Got myself such a good little whore, ain’t that right? One who knows her place is with me– your only leader.” You could scarcely manage a nod upon reveling in the touches he gave you.

Dutch was maddening, luring a groan from him once he saw how far gone you were. It was immensely overstimulating the minute Dutch’s right ringed hand dragged up your torso to the pebbled nipples standing upright from stimulation. Goosebumps expelled across your skin as the knot in your stomach began to tighten, walls fluttering around his length aimlessly. He leaned down again to the side of your face, breathing heavily above you. Slowing to deliver deep and agonizing thrusts, Dutch only drew out your orgasm further, as if he read your state of overstimulation like an open book. His fingers twisting your nipples, those smacks of his hips against yours– your sheer bliss in the center of it all.

Your hand fisted his dark waves at the nape of his neck, another grumble aligned with his thrusts. His pace wasn’t as merciful as you hoped it would be, the sting of his precise and rough thrusts pricking tears in your eyes the same as before. You were at such a heightened state that you weren’t able to control what left your mouth anymore.

“Daddy… I-I’m gettin’ close..” you whimper, running your other hand up his bicep to grip desperately. He felt the pride well in his chest upon his skill to pleasure you like this while also making you cry. To see you in such desperate of situations fueled his ego like a bonfire.

“Oh, are you, my love?” he began, snaking his hand down to your navel and pressing his hand against it. The tip of his cock poked just the slightest bit against his palm. “Feel how deep I am inside you, darling, and know that nobody could fill you the way I do.”

Dutch’s deft fingers moved downward to rub at your clit, throbbing incessantly upon his first touch. The whimper you let out was like music to his ears, filthy and drenched in content of being pleasured by him.

By the expression on his face– he’s impressed at how well you held back from letting yourself go. It’s Dutch’s realization then that you’d always known you were his to touch and please like this, more than any other before. Dutch Van Der Linde is the object of all your desires; continuing to orchestrate bliss under any means possible.

Every ridge and vein of him massages you in such a euphoric way, and it’s not too hard for you to be sent over the edge. It’s as if every inch of you explodes in that moment, allowing each morsel of stimulation; his fingers twisting your nipples and on your clit, the sensation of him throbbing inside you, and the sound of his voice in your ears; come together to send you gasping and moaning over his cock once again.

You can’t hear much else other than the wet slide of him inside you, walls slick as his once steady rhythm grows erratic, forcing his thrusts to become harder and harder. An ache like this would always have a way of satisfying you in more ways than most. Dutch’s groans became visceral as he thrust one more time into you until he too was sent keening over the edge. His hips stuttered, white ropes of seed coating your walls while riding out your high to the sounds of Dutch’s melody of sweet groans and praises.

Both of you breathed heavily as the moment passed, your grip on one another grounding you back to Earth.

“Now, say ‘thank you, daddy’.” he snarled in your ear, keeping himself sheathed inside you while moving his hips the slightest bit.

“Thank you, daddy..” You swallowed, breathless upon his capability to have just come down from his high and keep that cocky attitude.

“Well, what are you thanking me for, doll? Be specific.” Dutch cupped your cheek, his thumb running along your skin lightly.

“For… reminding me who I belong to. You.” Your lips crashed against his once again, the passion and heat of the moment still rung in the air.

“That’s right, my darling.” He pulled out of you, lying beside you with a smug grin on his face. The two of you laid in the warmth your body heat offered, catching your breath. Cool air continued to seep into the tent, a drastic difference than the heat you two shared. Dutch was the first one to break the silence, your alcohol dazed mind still fluttering from such intense contact.

“Oh, my darling, are you alright? You were ravishing tonight.” You glanced over, his forehead glowing with sweat in the warm lantern light.

“Yeah, I’m good, baby. After all that, ’m glowin’. You sure know how to make a woman stay loyal.” you smirked at him, struck by his handsome face in the light.

“I’m sure,” he chuckled, “Hope I wasn’t too hard on your precious body, my love. The last thing I would want is to injure you or push a boundary I should not have. Tell me.. dearest.” Dutch sat up, grabbing your hand with one of his, caressing your wrist with his thumb. His hair was disheveled in the most perfect way, afterglow still apparent on his cheeks.

Warmly, you beamed at him, “Of course you weren’t, not if I made you mad in the first place. Not at all…”

Your words brought a smile out in him, and you caught it just before he pulled you in closer to an embrace. That skin on skin contact fueled every desire for him you had since meeting him. When he noticed and made you his– that was the real luck of the draw. So many women chased after Dutch Van Der Linde as a dream, something to grasp onto as an escape from their lives. But for you, it was all so very real.

“You are mine, my love. Don’t ever forget it again.” Dutch’s voice tickled your ears once more, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before grabbing a nearby blanket to cover your body from the chill of night.

“How could I, my leader? No one could possibly compare to the man before me. I love you.” You sweetly spoke to him, one of your palms lying against his chest lovingly.

“I love you too, my sweetness. I’m so overjoyed to hear you’re loyal to the right man.” He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your cheek and letting his forearm wrap around your waist.

“That I am.” you replied, laying your head on his chest with content, sleep overcoming you from the exhaustion and haze your body had been through with the night’s events. Warm and safe in his arms, your heart was Dutch Van Der Linde’s.

#signed rye #ryesff #devnmonwrites #devnmon writes #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde smut #dutch van der linde #dutch rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #dividers by benkeibear #dividers by peachesboard #dividers by rookthornesartistry

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whumpbby · 5 months

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Love the idea of Lan Sizhui and Jiang Cheng becoming unexpected friends.

Like, say after the plot happened, Jin Ling is a young sect leader and he struggles with it.

Sizhui came back from his travels with WN and, being his caring and concerned self, noticed things were shaky, so he decided to keep an eye on the younger boy. (He couldn't imagine going through the same, ending up straddled with such responsibility without a chance to refuse... Being a sect leader was a harsh role).

He made sure to invite JL to night hunts whenever they happened to story close to the Jin borders. He started to write letters to Jin Ling, because he looked like he needed something to distract him. He even tried to convince Wei-qianbei to speak with his nephew during the sect conferences - it was a work in progress, but he had hope...

And then, during one night-hunt, he noticed they were trailed by someone. Not wanting to worry his companions, he set Jingyi to distract Jin Ling and slipped away quietly to...find himself face to face with Sandu Sengshou. More like - hand to face with Sandu Sengshou, who slapped a hang over Sizhui's mouth and backed him against a tree out of sight of the others.

"Shut up, or I'll break your legs." Jiang Sect Leader mouthed and Sizhui could only nod. He wasn't really afraid, but Jin Ling's uncle was a different beast when the boy wasn't present...okay, he was a bit afraid.

Turns out he shouldn't have to be. Jiang Cheng was just checking up on his nephew - the hunt was skirting the edges of Yunmeng. It was a bit embarrassing, sure, but Sizhui understood - times were hard for the Jin, a young sect leader was in danger. Even more so if the Jiang Sect Leader was seen hanging around him too often.

Sizhui understood. Sect leader let him go with an order to stay silent. Sizhui promised he won't tell.

He also promised something else.

"Jiang-zonghzu, I will keep him safe, you have my word."

Bravely and thoughtlessy, sure, but the words were out of his mouth and there was no taking them back. Sizhui felt his face flush when Jiang Cheng huffed at his daring. But then...

"I'll hold you to that, Lan Yuan."

And that was a beginning of the strange relationship where Sandu Sengshou trusted Lan Yuan with his nephew's safety on the nighthunts - the trust heavy with expectations. Sizhui preferred to think he was trusted - not threatened.

What followed was Jiang Cheng easing up on following their nighthunts. Meaningful looks whenever they came across each other during conferences or in the field. A few words exchanged here and there. Short messages that found Lan Sizhui from time to time, in few words advising him to visit Koi Tower if he happened to travel close - usually following some upheaval in the Jin sect that the young leader needed break from. Sizhui's friendship with Jin Ling blooming, their little group of four (including Jingyi and Zizhen) building a great relationship.

Sometimes it was Sizhui sending a short message to Lotus Pier, when his presence could only help so much and Jin Ling needed reassurance from his family instead.

In time these messages grew longer, inclosing more details, some stories. In time Jiang-zonghzu was asking about Sizhui's studies and accomplishments, and giving him gruff advice on how to deal issues arising when one was the first disciple ("I was my own first disciple for three years after the war, I know what I'm talking about, kid.")

It was...nice. Different. Sizhui wasn't even aware of how much he missed Zewu-Jun's presence in his life. He had his uncle and Wei-qianbei now, but Lan Xichen was such a big part of his life between his training and Huanguang-Jun's travels - he missed his support. He missed having someone who spoke with authority of experience to help him deal with his issues. And Jiang-zonghzu was nothing like Zewu-Jun, but he also wasn't not like him. He was straightforward and honest, even if he didn't couch his words in kindness. He had a varied knowledge he didn't hide. He trusted Lan Sizhui with his nephew - and didn't question Sizhui's decisions. If he thought they were stupid, he said so, but he didn't question the rationale behind them ("You're young, boy, not an idiot. Experience comes with doing, not listening. Just don't do stupid shit!").

He could understand how Jin Ling became who he was - hard-headed and stubborn, yes, but also fair and intelligent, and hard-working. The self-protecting habits didn't come from Lotus Pier, did they?

("He never had friends in the Koi Tower, I expect you and the Ouyang-brat to remedy that.")

Huh.

Wait.

"What about Lan Jingyi?"

"That one will be lucky to live to adulthood, with the way he's flapping his mouth. I have no expectations of him whatsoever."

#headcanon #mdzs #jiang cheng #lan sizhui

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sweaterrat · 7 months

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PORTALS ✦ Chapter 2

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“Fallen Down” — Undertale

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The crescent moon illuminated the rooftops along with the lights of the city. Stars brightly glistened with the moon, dancing in its beams. It was a night like every other night. The unsleeping city of Manhattan bustled below, blissfully unaware as four figures leaped from roof to roof. The quartet landed on top of a building right in front of a closed museum.

They all watched carefully as a hooded figure looked around. It was too far to get a good look at their face, especially while they were hidden in the dark. They glanced around to see if anyone was watching, then slipped into a dark alleyway next to the museum.

Donnie and the others had been following this guy for a few blocks now and everything about them screamed trouble. They kept on tailing them until they ended up here.

“Just seems to be a lowlife burglar,” Donnie scoffed. He didn’t have time for this, he had mountains upon mountains of projects to catch up on. Couldn’t this guy rob a museum another day?

“Still, it’s our duty to keep this city safe. No matter how small the threat,” Raph stated, browbones furring as he scanned the area for any possible onlookers or accomplices.

“Raph’s right, we can take care of this guy no problem!” Mikey piped up, weapon in hand and ready to go whenever Raph said so.

And then there was Leo. He looked as confident as ever with that cocky look on his face. “If they’re just some thief, this’ll be easy peasy!”

Raph sighed, “Only if you don’t mess it up. You always get way over your head, Leo. Just please listen to me this time so we can get this over with.”

Leo just rolled his eyes. “The whole point of being a leader is that you lead. Which is a role that Dad gave to me, so I get to call the shots now,” he argued smugly.

Raph, along with the others, could only groan in annoyance.

“Do you at least have a plan?” Donnie questioned, already growing tired of this.

“Uh, no? Why would we need a plan? Just ninja in, ninja their face, and ninja out. Easy.”

Donnie did nothing but pinch the bridge of his snout.

Raph sighed deeply. “Consider our plan?” He huffed, gesturing to the others.

Leo simply raised a brow. “You have a plan? No offense bro, but you were never the strategic type.”

“We don’t want to make this longer than it has to be. Stealth would be quicker and won’t attract unwanted attention,” Donnie tapped away on his tech band, not even bothering to look up.

Raph nodded. “We find out where that crook got in and use that as an entrance—”

“Why would we need to do that if I have my portals?” Leo interrupted, seeming smug that he had found a plot hole in Raph’s plan.

Donnie spoke up this time. “Your portals are bright and obvious, like yourself—”

“Hey!”

“—And if we’re going stealth, it’s better to stay as discreet as possible.”

“Exactly.” Raph nodded proudly to the softshell. “And when we’re in, we find the guy, apprehend ‘em, and leave it to the cops to deal with the rest. We’ll be in and out.”

“I like Raph’s plan!” Mikey said enthusiastically which earned a prideful smile from the eldest.

Leo’s sly smirk morphed into a pout at no one agreeing to his (totally awesome, cooler, and better) strategy. He dramatically groaned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Fine,” he grumbled, begrudgingly complying. “But my plan was cooler.”

Content enough, Raph turned to the others. “Alright, let’s—”

A loud, beeping alarm sounded from Donnie’s tech gauntlet. It pulsed a faint, reddish glow.

“What in the world is that annoying beeping sound— oh wait, that’s me.” He tapped on the gauntlet’s screen and pulled up a purple digital display. “What do we have here…?” He mumbled to himself.

“What is it?” Mikey asked, peeking over Donnie’s shoulder to get a better look at the screen. The softshell expanded the hologram so everyone could see it properly.

On the monitor, there were four brightly colored dots. Blue, red, orange and purple. But not too far off to the side was another dot— a white one. It was far brighter than all the other dots on the screen. The unknown entity was pulsating waves from its center. Donnie furrowed his brows and zoomed into the location.

“Well, that's odd,” he mumbled, cupping his hand over his mouth while continuing to mutter incoherently.

“What’s odd? What is that?” Raph inquired while looking up quizzically at the digital screen.

“I’m not sure what it is,” Donnie squinted at the new entity. “It just popped up on my monitor.”

“What’s with the uh, the things coming out of it?” Leo asked, peering up at the circular waves emitting from it.

“Waves of mystic energy,” Donnie said simply, but it all still perplexed him. “I’ve never seen something this strong before. It might be dangerous, I think we should check it out.”

“What about the robber? Hm? In the museum? Ringing any bells here?” Leo said while wildly gesturing to the building below them. “They could be getting away right now!”

“You’re right, we’re gonna have to split up for this,” Raph stated. “Donnie, Mikey, you two go find out where that mystic energy is comin’ from. Leo and I will—”

“Hold on, hold on! Last I remembered, I’m leading the team,” Leo fussed. Raph pinched the bridge of his snout, grumbling.

“Leo, we don’t have time for this—”

“Alright! New plan! Donnie, you and Mikey can go see whatever that mystic business is about. Raph and I’ll deal with the museum guy, ‘kay?” The terrapin instructed.

“That’s literally exactly what I said.” Raph sighed through his teeth.

“Well, I said it better.”

Raph rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Let’s go.”

Donnie retracted the hologram and beckoned Mikey to follow him. “Onwards, Micheal! We must locate this plethora of mystic energy! It could be important.”

“Or extremely dangerous!” The other piped in cheerily.

And with that, both pairs went their separate paths.

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Kat’s brain pounded against their skull. Their eyes slightly squinted open as they clutched their head. How did they end up on the floor?

“What the hell happened…?” They groaned, sitting up on their knees as they scanned their environment. Despite their blurry vision and aching head, they were able to make out that they had no fucking clue where they were. They were on an unfamiliar rooftop in the middle of some unfamiliar city. They knew this wasn’t a dream, they tried to conjure up Leo ages ago.

What in the world— where the hell were they? Panicked now, they looked around frantically for some sort of memorable landmark. Taking time to survey their surroundings properly, they spotted scaffolding, metal bars, wood planks, and more assortments of building tools. They assumed that they were in an unfinished construction site.

“Okay, okay,” Kat breathed, talking to themself like a normal person because normal people talk to themselves and possibly sleepwalk their way on top of buildings.

Shaking their head, they tried to regain focus. What was the last thing they remembered? They snuck out of their house, then they were walking with Niyah and that weird portal showed up— oh shit, the portal! OH SHIT, NIYAH!

“Niyah?!” Kat called out, barely managing to stand before a sharp pain shot through their ankle. They yelped and fell back to the ground.

“The hell?” They grunted. Kat peered down at their ankle quizzically, but shook their head to try to ignore the pain. They noticed something just a little away from them and their heart dropped to their stomach when they realized it was Niyah.

Assumptions of the worst flooded their brain, making panic course through them. “Niyah?!” They shouted again without a response before taking a deep breath, slowly standing up, and limping towards their friend.

Kat collapsed next to her, scanning her unmoving figure, and began to lightly nudge her. “Hey, hey, Niyah? C’mon, wake up! This isn’t funny!” Their voice cracked as their shaking became more violent. Kat kept pleading but Niyah never woke.

Kat’s breathing quickened and they gripped their arms tightly, their nails digging into their skin. It felt as if they had fallen into freezing cold water, only to find that when they tried to emerge, they were being weighed down by an invisible force, making them spiral deeper and deeper into the never ending depths of anxiety.

“It’s okay, Kat,” they said in an attempt to comfort themself. “You just fell through some portal and now you’re in some random city on a random rooftop with a busted up ankle and your unconscious, possibly dead best friend. No big deal!” They let out a dry laugh. If anyone else was around, they would probably think Kat was insane.

Kat thought to themself; maybe there was someone around who could help them? But then again, anything here could be dangerous. Maybe they should—

Their thoughts were abruptly paused when they heard a crash echo on the other side of the roof. They perked up like a deer in headlights, listening carefully for the next possible noise.

They heard voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Could this be help? Or an enemy? Kat couldn't see anyone, they were hidden by the large crates in front of them. Looking around for something to protect themself, Kat spotted a toolbox just beyond arm’s reach. Surely there could be a hammer or something they could use as a weapon?

They stretched their arm out for the box, fingers grazing the handle countless times but it was just an inch out of their reach. Kat strained to grab it, wrapping their hand around the handlebar.

“Ha!” They laughed triumphantly before the whole box tipped over, clattering loudly on the floor. All the contents scattered around the ground and Kat’s breath hitched when they heard the other voices stop abruptly.

Frantically, they looked for a place they could possibly hide. The most they could do was try to shrink as far as they could into a corner and hope whoever was on the other side of those crates wouldn’t see them.

With Niyah in their arms, Kat snatched the closest tool they could find— a metal wrench— off the floor and shuffled closer to a wall, further into the shadows. They could do nothing else but hold their breath and wait.

“Pretty sure it came from over here,” a voice mumbled. Kat’s brows furrowed, have they heard this voice before? They swore it sounded familiar.

“Be careful, it could be something dangerous…” That’s two familiar voices now, that couldn't be a coincidence.

Kat held their breath, gripping their wrench and holding Niyah protectively with one arm. They heard the slow steps of the people on the other side of their hiding spot, closing in.

A tall figure, hidden slightly but the shadows crept around the corner. Maybe it was because Kat was sitting down, and maybe it was because their anxiety was through the roof then, but whatever the silhouette was it looked like a monster. Its face was obscured by the dramatic shadows it was hidden in; and yet, it somehow still looked vaguely familiar.

Out of instinct, Kat flung the tool at the figure. The wrench cut through the air, souring true to its destination. The throw was so clean and so accurate that it flew miles past the person’s head, missing completely.

The wrench clattered loudly on the ground, echoing obnoxiously and for far too long. The two just stared at each other awkwardly.

“I think you missed.”

Hold on, why did they sound exactly like—

“You okay, Dee?” The second figure popped their head around the corner.

Wait a damn minute.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

The duo stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the moon. Kat realized instantly why they sounded so familiar. The moonlight highlighted their features like their green skin and three fingers, their color coded attire and gear. And even with the two standing right in front of Kat, they couldn’t believe it.

There was no way in hell that Kat was looking at the fucking ninja turtles right now.

Kat was frozen in place, mouth agape and eyes widening at the people in front of them. They felt their head start to spin.

They were definitely dead. If they weren’t dreaming, they were dead. That’s gotta be the only explanation. They fell in a trippy portal and died and Niyah was probably double dead.

Kat’s shock seemed to trigger something in the other’s memory and he frantically started to cough up some excuse.

“Oh, hi! We were just uhh— looking for the t-turtle costume competition?” One of the mutants— Mikey— jumbled, shooting glances at Donnie to ask for help.

“What? Oh! Right, of course! We seemed to have lost our way to the humanoid alien convention that is most definitely real and not something made up mere seconds ago! Also fear not, these are simply very elaborate turtle costumes and we are most definitely humans,” He rambled proudly.

Mikey held his head in his hands.

Looking down at Kat again, Donnie seemed to finally notice Niyah who was carefully held in Kat’s arms. They realized who Donnie was now looking at and protectively held them tighter as a way to say ‘back off’. Kat knew well that she definitely couldn’t beat them in a fight but damn it, she’d go down swinging if she had to.

“What happened to your friend there?” The softshell asked while gesturing to Niyah.

Kat hesitated. “I… I don’t know,” she muttered helplessly.

Mikey chimed in. “Are you guys okay? Do you need help?” His eyes flashing with concern.

Donnie was quick to speak up. “Now, hang on— we don’t even know who these strangers are! Again, they could be dangerous.” Mikey didn’t listen in the slightest and approached the two anyway which earned a groan out of Donnie.

Mikey crouched down to their level, cautiously moving closer. Kat’s breath quickened as she tried to back away.

“Hey, it’s okay. We won’t hurt you,” He cooed as one would do to a frightened cat (which was comically accurate in this case).

Kat eyed him carefully for a moment. “You won’t?” they asked meekly and Mikey simply shook his head. Kat tried to let themself ease up a little. Their tense shoulders relaxed just a bit and the terrapin smiled at that.

“Donnie, can you do your scanny thingy to see if they're hurt?” Mikey asked while looking back to his brother. Donnie sighed and rolled his eyes, then silently pulled down his lenses to scan the two.

“Woah,” he let out.

“What?” Kat said, threads of concern weaved into their tone.

“Seems like you were the cause of that mystic energy I detected earlier. Or rather your sleeping bud over there,” he responded, flicking his goggles back up.

“What- what do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is none of you are badly hurt. Although you,” pointing to Kat, “have a sprained ankle. Probably not good to walk on it, and you might wanna check your friend for a concussion.”

Kat noticed that he never directly answered her question, but she was too scared to ask about it again. Instead, they looked at their ankle and winced.

Mikey piped up, “Don’t worry! We’ll get you fixed up.” Kat reciprocated his smile.

“I’m Mikey by the way. That’s my big bro Donnie over there.” He gestured to the other who half-heartedly waved.

“So, where are you from? And how’d you get up here?” He questioned, tilting his head while doing so. Kat paused for a moment, not really knowing how to respond.

“Um, we aren’t… from here. And for how we got up here, I have no idea,” They replied wearily.

Kat had noticed that Donnie had stepped away for a moment, seemingly talking to someone on his tech band thing. They strained to get a better look at who was on screen.

“Pretty sure he’s talking to Raph, our other brother,” Mikey said, noticing Kat’s curiosity. Kat decided that the best route was to play dumb. It would definitely be safe to act like they didn’t know basically everything about the turtles.

“Uh, so are all your brothers… turtles?” They ask slowly.

“Yeah, they are! We may look scary but I pinky promise we’re the good guys!” The terrapin held up his pinky(?) to Kat. They looked at it for a moment, then brought their own shaky hand to his. As they linked pinkies, Kat got a rush of… well they didn’t exactly know what. This whole thing had felt like a weird, vivid dream. It was one thing to look at the turtles, but now they had touched them and it just made the whole thing more real.

Donnie returned to the others, “Raph’ll be back with Leo in a bit. They sound like they’re dealing with some trouble.” Kat’s breath hitched at the sound of Leo’s name. Holy crap, are they going to meet him too?

Mikey noticed Kat’s nervousness and kindly placed a hand on their shoulder. “Don’t worry, they won't hurt you. I promised, remember?” He smiled brightly, holding up his pinky again. “I know this might feel like a lot to you, but it’ll be okay,” he cooed.

Kat inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm themself. They wearily looked down at Niyah, who was still unconscious. With a deep sigh, they closed their eyes.

What have they gotten themselves into?

════════⊹⊱≼ ✦ ✧ ≽⊰⊹════════

WAHOOOOO CHAPTER 2 IS OUT EVERYONE!!! I hope you guys liked this one hehe ^^ 💛💛

@yourlocalartsonist @yosajaeofficial and @oleander-nin are our lovely beta readers <333 go take a look at their projects!! They make amazing stuff :]

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gobbochune · 8 months

Text

Gale wasn’t entirely sure when the traveling party returned from their business in the city, as he had spent most of the day sulking in his tent. He had a distinct impression that he and his comrades were meant to do something while their leader went about the important work, but as he had always been apart of that work Gale found himself quite out of sorts. Nevertheless at some point the sky had darkened considerably, and by the murmur of talk outside it seemed as though Ciaran had returned.

…And still wasn’t talking to him.

SPOILERS FOR ACT III

Aftermath of the reveal of (@malewife-mansplain-magus) Ciaran's past. Durge/Gale

…And still wasn’t talking to him.

Gale hissed irritably through his teeth. It wasn’t as if, even if they were to speak, there be much to say. No, Gale had made his stance perfectly clear, he thought, and had been punished for it by wasting away in the camp. Both he and Karlach had been exiled from active participation, some nonsense they’d come up with months ago about keeping track of everyone, but somehow seemed utterly ridiculous now it was him on the proverbial bench.

It wasn’t right. It felt like being placed in a box, told not to make a fuss. It felt like Mystra, which was a pit in his mind that Gale was keen to avoid. And it was partially this feeling that kept Gale from being the one to seek him out. It wasn’t as if he’d been the one to do anything wrong, anything so catastrophically, morally, and cosmically wrong that it doomed the entire coastline.

And yet it had become dark again, as it seemed to every day now that he was no longer by his side. And just like every night before, he could see the silhouettes of Ciaran from his tent, accompanied by Jahira’s soothing whispers. Gale wasn’t so pathetic as to eavesdrop, but he knew from experience what was likely being said. That had once been him standing there, whispering those same empty comforts. And it was because of this that he found himself glaring rather petulantly through the entrance of his tent.

Not because he wanted to join, as it was not correct for him to be the one to break the silence. Not because he was jealous, because not even he was so unhinged as to mistake that motherly sort of friendship for something deeper. But simply because Jahira was standing in a place by Ciaran’s side, a place was his, and Gale of Waterdeep was not one to share.

‘So go back.’ A voice fiendishly similar to a certain Tressim’s whispered in the back of his conscience, ‘If it's your place, you ought to be there.’

Grunting, Gale snapped the entrance to his tent shut. He was still angry, he had a right to be angry. Everything they’d done, all the suffering, all the hardship, it was just him all along. Bhaal’s special little chosen, Gortash’s… something or other that Gale cared not to think too deeply on, and they’d been letting him play hero fixing a crisis of his own design.

Gale told himself that this could all have been a trick. Between world domination and the horrors of the cult, what was a little game of playing amnesiac? His dearest sister certainly had no qualms against shifting into whatever role could twist the knife the firecest. There was always the chance that there was no Ciaran Finch in the first place.

Somewhere far away, a city dog howled. There was some feeble chorus in answer, before the night stilled into silence once again.

Upright and whitefaced, Gale had to contend with the realization that his initial fear was that the sound meant someone, somehow, had been privy to his thoughts, and had been foolish enough to think they held any merit.

Gale settled with a groan. If he believed any of that, even a little, then he wouldn’t have spent hours seething over someone else standing in his place. It wouldn’t still be his place in his heart, just as it had been that horrible night in moonrise towers, or the evening spent together in the weave. He was only angry because he wasn’t angry, or at least wouldn’t be forever.

Rolling over onto his side, Gale finally concluded that he wouldn’t do any sleeping again. And the thought that his probable inactivity the next day did nothing to ease his frustrations as to the fact. He and Ciaran needed to have… a chat. Some things were said, or rather, Gale had said some things, and Ciaran had simply dismissed him. At the time he stewed in outrage at being told what to do by the architect of their combined doom, but now he just felt himself aching to take it all back. It wouldn’t be fair to wake Ciaran up just to reconcile, so it seemed a proper penance for Gale to wait, alone, for the sun to rise.

Sheepishly, he rolled back to the tent flap just a crack, curious if his musings had done anything to pass the hours by.

Outside was still, a frigid painting of a cool summer night. It would be first light soon, the fire smoking and anyone beside it had long since retired to their tents. Or rather, those that had tents.

Somewhere Ciaran was sleeping alone. He always did, ever since that night Bhaal had nearly taken him. Somewhere far away from the rest of them so they might have a chance to escape if his urge took over again. Every single precaution taken to ensure that whoever he had once been wouldn’t hurt the people he cared for.

Gale scrunched his eyes shut. Courtesy or no, they needed to talk now.

Assuming that there weren’t any other horrific urges stewing in Ciaran’s mind, now would be the best time. Explanations and apologies needed to be made. There simply wasn’t enough time for them to waste on petty infighting. After a cursory attempt to look less like he’d been tossing and turning by himself for hours, he pushed the flap aside and went about searching.

It wasn’t as if Ciaran was hiding every night. That would be almost childish, and whatever else his condition had done to him, he wasn’t a coward. But some nights Gale found him camping a bit further out than others, as seemed to be the case now. As the dawn threatened to brighten with every moment that passed, Gale searched further and further than the outskirts.

But just as he was about to turn back, wondering if Ciaran had been so unsettled by their spat that he’d actually joined Jahira in her tent, there he was sitting on a raised bit of grass overlooking Wyrm’s Rock.

Wide awake and fully dressed, Ciaran looked no different than he did any morning. If not for the dim lighting, Gale might have thought it was simply him who had overslept.

“You’re… awake?” He asked, and then winced at being the one to break the silence.

Slowly Ciaran swung his head to face Gale, only making his nerves spike further. He didn’t know what he expected to see, pain, anger, even a crumb of the haunting dread that had been torturing him all night? On the contrary, Ciaran looked almost… peaceful.

“Ah,” He rumbled, “As are you.”

There was an awkward silence, Gale had the distinct impression they both felt as though they’d been caught red handed by the other. He slid his tongue awkwardly over his teeth

“...I had hoped to have a moment to speak to you.” began Gale awkwardly.

A warm smile spread across Ciaran’s face, and for a moment it was as though things could go back to normal.

“There’s no need.”

The moment passed quickly.

“What?” Gale asked, “I… highly disagree.”

Ciaran looked at him for a long time with that faraway smile on his face, before heaving a deep sigh. He released it quickly, with finality, before leaping off the rock to face Gale fully.

“You were right,” He said simply, “How many horrors have we witnessed on this little adventure of ours? From the cruelty of the goblins to Yenna’s abandonment, all of this is my fault.”

Gale felt a pit sinking in his stomach, too vast to speak for a moment. It was in that silence that he allowed his gaze to drop, and subsequently see the packed satchel sitting at Ciaran’s feet.

“Ciaran…”

“Don’t give me that look, it’s not as though this is anything new. We always knew I was something horrible. If anything, it's a long time coming…”

Ciaran chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as though this were a conversation about anything more lighthearted.

The words caught behind Gale’s tongue, wanting to say that whatever he’d done in his past life was over now, the very same affirmations he’d been repeating for weeks. But those affirmations had meant nothing in the face of Ciaran’s true origins, weeks of trying to convince him of his value were undone in an instant.

With nothing else he could say, Gale repeated hopelessly: “Ciaran…”

The smile twitched. A slight crack in Ciaran’s mask of self assurance.

“Don’t,” he said, “I don’t want to go back and forth with this. I felt the world… crumble beneath me when I learned the truth. And when I reached out to steady myself, I realized not even you could justify what I’ve done.”

The smile was back on his face again, but there was a distinct desperation in his eyes.

“I can’t be around you all anymore, I can’t look at you knowing it was me who caused all of this. I don’t presume to ask anything from any of you, but if you have any sympathy left for me you’d let me go.”

A kernel of doubt rotted in the base of Gale’s gut, but beneath the despair it didn’t register. He dropped his jaw to croak a retort, before snapping it shut again.

A long silence followed, before he sighed and looked away. He couldn’t force himself to give his blessing, but there was merit to the request. He’d said something horrible to someone who must have been reeling himself. What right did Gale have to stop him?

Agonized moments slid away, Gale unable to look at Ciaran, unable to know what expression he was making. Stupidly, he was unable to look up. An archmage who had once fancied himself a god in the making, too afraid to say a single word.

“So you’ll let me go?” Came Ciaran’s familiar low voice, but with a slightly more musical cadence then usual.

The dissonance was enough to make Gale finally snap his head up.

A smirk was playing on Ciaran’s lips as he looked at Gale with outraged astonishment.

“After all that, I really matter so little do you?” He chirped a high and terrible thing that might have been a laugh, “Poor, poor, older brother…”

KRRRACCK… KRRAACK… SCRAAPE….

Gale wasn’t sure what was more horrifying, the sight of Ciarian’s head pulling and twisting to one side, or the sounds of bones snapping, skin sliding, and the rustle of worm-like hairs slithering through pores. White, milky, pigment flooded across his skin like a blight, his features dissolved into cinders, and through it all that awful high giggle that had mocked them since arriving at the gate.

Gale took a shaking step back, suddenly aware of just how far from the camp he had wandered. It was a foregone conclusion, even before the sickly-sweet scent of carrion stepped from a pool of gore.

“Look at it…”

#baldurs gate 3 #durge/gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #friendfiction!

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leffee · 2 days

Text

Day 31: Memory lane

Blythe eyed the empty day camp, it has never felt so… hollow, and now… it was simply waiting for a different batch of regular day campers if they ever were to be. Her hand clenched the doorknob tightly but no matter how much physical strength she felt she was putting into opening the door, it didn’t budge.

So, she simply stood there, rooted to the ground, her eyes slightly widened as they slowly darted around the small area.

She remembered, she remembered so damn well the day when it truly emptied out. And she remembered the day it started.

In the back of her mind, Blythe always knew her pet friends would not live as long as she would… but, she had still allowed herself to hope against hope.

Russell was first. She wasn’t sure what would have been worse, him passing in the day camp in front of her eyes or simply getting verbal information from Mrs. Owens that Russell was no longer with them. All she knew was that seeing him lifeless, surrounded by his friends was painful, so infinitely painful. Even years after he was gone the day camp was never quite the same, even once the situation seemingly normalized itself. They had to, they had to return to their routines, and they had, but the snowball effect was already in its effect, once one of them was gone they all knew that… well… When their unofficial leader was gone the command shifted between Sunil, Penny, and Zoe. One thing was for sure, as much as they tried none could do it quite as Russell.

Pepper was second. As much as Blythe didn’t want to judge who was better to die sooner or later, she had to admit to herself only that this was probably the worst subsequent death. Pepper, while not in any sort of leadership role, seemed to become the glue that held their now slightly smaller group together. She really did put effort into making sure everyone was happy, laughing, and enjoying themselves. She never again made jokes at someone's expense, she never again even tried, but it didn’t affect the quality of her comedy and performances. They didn’t see it, but apparently at her owner’s house she passed in her sleep, who found her unmoving in the morning. At the very least she passed peacefully, or at least that’s what Blythe chose to believe in.

While not quite as effectively, the rest of the pets still tried to keep up everyone’s mood, too bad one of thosewho tried the most was the next to go. Blythe wasn’t quite sure what happened to Vinnie but his demeanor… it didn’t change, no, rather it became… subdued? Maybe it was because two of his friends had died, or maybe because he himself was getting older, but he appeared just a bit more responsible, a bit more calm, collected, and protective, especially over Sunil. She wasn’t certain if she liked that change or not. Either way, no one was given much time to ponder over it. Blythe remembered Pepper once joking, long before Russell’s passing, that Vinnie’s clumsiness would kill him one day. And it did. His owner took him outside that day, let him down on the ground and before he knew it, Vinnie tried crossing the street, nothing exceptional - all the pets did it multiple times though normally when they were all together. Except this time, he tripped and well… the car got there before he could get himself out of the way. Blythe desperately hoped he died upon impact.

After Vinnie disappeared in a matter of one day it really got to the remaining pets, especially Zoe. She acted like she was next on the chopping block, yet at the same time she appeared almost manic - she wanted to do everything, go everywhere, visit every place. Blythe tried her best to help her accomplish as many of those goals as possible even when Zoe got weaker and less exuberant with each month until her inevitable end came… Blythe never knew they diagnosed her with cancer until Zoe was no longer there. All she knew was that when John and Clarissa took Zoe to the vet one last time she was barely contacting anymore, Zoe just… fell asleep but never woke up.

Sunil was next, and he seemed to know that, Blythe remembered thinking that he was weirdly calm. She also remembered that he and the remaining girls really got close, the trio shared every single secret they had, with her too. Blythe was quite certain he had never shared those even with his best friend, perhaps too ashamed to try, but back then with Minka and Penny he poured everything out and so did they. At this point any sort of leadership borders were so blurred they almost didn’t exist as a whole. Sunil, Minka and Penny simply did whatever they wanted any given day, yet they still remained as warm and welcoming as ever to quest day campers, maybe even more. He was the second one deceased in front of her eyes, in the day camp.

If Sunil, Minka and Penny were close then Penny and Minka were inseparable once the mongoose was gone. And yet, they appeared lonely. Blythe visited them as often as she could, especially if no quest pets were scheduled for that day. She would sit in the day camp for hours and they would talk about everything and nothing, and when there was nothing left to converse about? They would simply sit around, close to each other, Minka would sometimes paint, Penny would eat her bamboo and Blythe would scroll through her phone or read a magazine. She recalled one day when Minka was not there, Penny asked her to check who lives longer - giant panda or spider monkey. Reluctantly, but Blythe fulfilled that request. Penny simply nodded at her reply and never brought it up again. Perhaps that’s why years later when she became so weak she could barely move anymore she didn’t complain one bit, her last words to both Minka and her were to be there for each other. So, they were.

Yet, Minka simply shriveled once she was left as the only regular day camper; however, she still made an effort to smile, at least when Blythe was around. And she was around a lot. Everything they seemed to talk about at that point were their friends. It had been so many years since Russell has passed, yet it felt like yesterday. Blythe was ashamed of herself, but she was rather certain she would have trouble remembering their faces if not for Minka’s paintings. She wondered if her monkey friend ever had similar thoughts but never dared to ask. Minka seemed to be the only pet who never quite lost her energy, or at least lost less than others. She once told Blythe she knew that her lifespan was the longest out of all her pet friends, yet she always hoped that she wouldn’t be the last one left. Blythe… wasn’t sure how to reply, so she simply remained quiet. And she remained quiet once, years later when she got the information that Minka had passed, she didn’t cry or sob.

But now, as she eyed that day camp, standing mostly empty for at least a month now, she fell to her knees and wept. Minka might have been the last of the pets, but the one last standing was… her.

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

My honest reaction:

But also:

Anyone ever thought how Blythe would feel once they would all start dying, cause I have. Look, Vinnie died so many times they all needed to catch up huff huff. The one and probably only time when I write about them as pets like in the show.

Soon when I have a second to spare I will get all of those daily prompts on ao3. So likeeee if you liked them I'd be thankful if you just went there and gave me a kudos :3. But whatever, I need to arrange that first.

#lps 2012 #may prompts #day 31 #bro I cried

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aimwigs · 4 months

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begging for you to write dad ludwig. the brainrot is real.

he would be such a. good girl scout leader

fine have some girl scout leader lud for the soul... i may not have a cohesive narrative for dadwig but im happy to provide little snippets

Really, the reason that Ludwig took on the role of troop leader was because nobody else wanted to do it. The old leader moved to Vegas, along with her daughter, leaving the troop in a state of uncertainty. If nobody stepped in, the troop would have to disband and Ryan would either have to find a new troop or brave it solo as a Juliette according to what QT said when she dropped off the girls at his place a few days before the school year started. Apparently, she meticulously researched both of these options but she wasn’t sure that Ryan would even want to be in Girl Scouts if she wasn’t doing it with her friends from school.

So he decides to step in. There’s nothing in the rules that says a dad can’t be a Girl Scout leader and if it means his daughter gets to continue to do this thing she loves with her friends, he’s not going to let her lose that. He’s not all that busy these days anyway— what’s the point of free time if he can’t spend it with his kids?

So that’s how he finds himself a few months later, in charge of more than a dozen eight-year-old girls on a camping trip. They’re in a cabin, at least. As much as he intends to give these girls an actual scouting experience— something he feels like the previous leader failed to do— he needs two more years and a few more chaperones before he’s ready to teach them how to pitch tents and start their own fires.

They get to the cabin in the evening and he gives the girls some time to put their stuff down and set up their sleeping bags for later before taking them out on a hike. It’s a short hike in theory— just a two-mile loop— but when you’re hiking with easily distracted kids, it always ends up a lot longer. He has to stop the same girl from eating berries off random plants like five fucking times.

The first time he squats down to her level and carefully explains, “We don’t eat things when we don’t know what they are. It could make us very sick.”

By the end of the hike, he’s just absently snatching the berries out of her hands before she can shove them in her mouth. He gave them all granola bars and as much as he understands the raw human urge to forage for your own food where you can, he doesn’t think getting poisoned on your first overnight camping trip would be a great scouting experience.

There’s a creek that runs through the canyon they’re hiking in, and he gives the girls fifteen minutes or so to splash around in the shallow water, expressions of pure glee on their faces as they look for frogs and skip stones together.

“Dad!” Ryan runs over to him and very seriously hands him a rock, light gray with a small curvy brown line running through the center of it and smooth from the rush of the water. “I don’t want to lose it.”

As much as he would love to just hold the rock for her, they all had a conversation about this before they left and he’s not prepared for the domino effect of all the girls shoving everything they find out here into their pockets.

“Take only memories and leave only footprints, remember?” he says, holding it back out to her.

She frowns. “I want to give it to Lucy so she’s not sad that she didn’t get to come.”

Fuck, the thought of the delight on his younger daughter’s face as her sister hands her a rock that she found special for her is enough to make him shove the rock in his pocket before anyone else can see it. “You can’t tell anyone else I let you keep this, okay?”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Dad!” she tells him, running off to splash around in the creek again.

Maybe he just got scammed into breaking his own damn rules but the thing about having kids is that they can scam you every time and you’ll never really mind it.

By the time they get back from the hike, it’s time for dinner. He starts the fire on his own, tactfully, with a lighter because he doesn’t fucking remember how to light a fire without one— he’ll learn when it’s time to teach them— and has the girls go find sticks to roast hot dogs with, telling them to stay near the camp.

They have their dinner and sing songs that Ryan and a few of the other girls learned at camp last summer and then move on to making s’mores. He tells them a story that he found online about how s’mores were invented by a Girl Scout and they all watch on with wide, excited eyes.

While he’s cleaning up, the girls tell scary stories around the fire. It’s nothing particularly terrifying, except for something that the tiniest girl in the troop cooks up in her dark twisted mind about evil clowns riding bears that somehow comes off as less insane when she says it— seriously, that girl is going to be a screenwriter someday— and then he teaches them how to properly put out a fire before they all head in to go to bed.

Half the girls knock out straight away— the hike must have seriously taken it out of them— and the other half drag their sleeping bags together and quietly whisper and giggle as if this were just a normal sleepover. Truth be told, he doesn’t care if they stay up talking all night since their parents are coming to get them in the morning anyway and they’re being quiet enough that he can sleep.

So he closes his eyes and tries to get some shut-eye before he’s inevitably woken up when somebody decides they need a snack or can’t find the bathroom.

It’s about thirty seconds before somebody drops a sleeping bag next to him and cuddles into his side.

He cracks an eye open to see Ryan lying there in her giraffe pajamas, curling into him a little.

“You okay, kiddo?” he asks, rubbing circles on her back.

“I’m thinking about the clowns,” she whispers with a frown.

He hugs her a bit closer. “You know that I’ll fight any clowns that try to get you.”

“They were riding bears, Dad.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ll fight the bears too.”

Ryan lets out a little giggle. “You can’t fight a bear.”

Ludwig very dramatically lifts his other arm into her field of view. “You see these guns, I could fight a bear for you any day.”

She rolls her eyes. “Only Uncle Slime can fight bears.”

How the fuck did she come to that conclusion?

“There are no clowns on bears coming here. I promise,” he tells her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I wouldn’t take you girls somewhere where you’d be at risk of a clown attack, much less clowns with the ability to ride bears.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Let’s get some sleep now, okay? You can stay here with me if you want.”

She nods softly and stays cuddled up into his side. His heart soars a little— she’s in a room full of her friends and she still wants to hang out with her dad. He wonders how much longer she’ll be little enough for this.

He savors the moment for a minute and then falls asleep too. As it turns out, camping trips are fucking exhausting when you’re managing a troop full of third graders.

#dadwig #<- this will be my tag for these ficlets when i post #ignore me saying ficlet when this is over 1k #ludwig #my fic #answered #anonymous

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2n2n · 6 months

Note

How do you think chapter 109 will play out?Will we see a little of the history of the Yugi brothers? Well one thing I'm sure of is Teru will kill Aoi after this 😂

Ahaha... well, I do have some thoughts.... I kinda try to have more overarching or general theme 'theories' or perhaps you could say 'beliefs' of 'directions', it can be more embarrassing to have very short-term going-to-be-dispelled-in-a-month musings ... BUT ... well haha I can't control my BRAIN...

I've been thinking that... I'm not sure Tsukasa is really 'a person' in this situation, at least not to Kako or the Clockeepers in general. If I think about a court trial, responsibility, blame, I would think that NUMBER 7 is responsible for those he has DOMINION AND CONTROL OVER, his YORISHIRO, and his KANNAGI. If HIS properties, his SACRED OBJECT, and his SERVANT, are acting up under HIS stewardship, then it is ultimately his fault... not theirs. Right? That is how I'm thinking...Nene-chan can only know what Hanako tells her, and she can only move about with significant kaii help. Tsukasa isn't meant to do anything at all, on his own! He's just a battery powering Amane!

I would reaaally love Tsukasa dehumanized. I would not imagine the kaii longterm governing the mysteries would really be able to see yorishiro as 'people' so much as 'things' (there is also almost no way Akane would see Tsukasa as a 'person'!), and regardless of if yours is a pair of scissors or a body, it all serves the same purpose (to keep you in line). The destruction of yorishiro is something this system allows for -- which Hanako is typically in charge of-- it is not something considered murder, or whatever, of course. Mysteries do not get to consent over being peeled if the leader decides it is necessary, but more important to me right now, is that yorishiro themselves get the least amount of control. Tsukasa was seemingly trapped in Hanako's boundary and needed assistance to get out ... Sumire sure couldn't do anything even given a hundred years. Sumire being destroyed by Hakubo is not a criminal investigation in and of itself; she belonged to Hakubo after all, a mystery has the power to destroy their own yorishiro. In my mind.. yorishiro are the ultimate underdogs of this system. They are made, and discarded, for the purpose of being someone else's power. For a boy who once killed himself to save his brother, it's a perfect role for Tsukasa .... something that only exists for Amane.

I guess though, overall I do think Amane has been, this whole time, letting Tsukasa do as he pleases, because he is curious about what Tsukasa wants to do. Once he figures out Tsukasa is responsible for the chaos, he no longer makes any effort to catch/stop him.

^ This Amane to me, is a reveal that he is warmly, affectionately watching Tsukasa, in mirror to how Tsukasa likes to watch Amane. I am not sure Tsukasa, when alive, really did things for himself often? Did Tsukasa have big wishes, dreams, ambitions? Maybe yorishiro Tsukasa is the most self-possessed and disruptive he has been...? He was always asking Amane if he liked or wanted something.... but now, he's disobeying him of his own accord. I wonder if Amane likes that...

*kaff* but well, how does that matter to the trial... I guess it could mean anything. Maybe Amane could just throw his hands up, maybe he could just finally put Tsukasa back in his boundary. Maybe he could lie and say he was only here to do just that, not to help them...but to subdue them. I wonder! Listen judge I'm not involved.... (weirdly, Akane and Teru could confirm that...? They found him helpless and stuck... crying... )

I had a fun fantasy of Tsukasa being forced back into Amane's boundary, but at the last second grabbing Nene-chan and sending her there with him... that would be so fun (: that's fanfiction at that point though haha.. I'm just desperate to see that boundary, and I'd love for Nene-chan to see Tsukasa incapacitated in his coffin... ♥ she just got to know him... it would be nice if she could see him 'dead'. It would be nice if 'finally stopping Tsukasa' didn't come with a sense of victory. Seeing the typically vivacious little boy, who just sang by her side, as a corpse, would be harrowing.

I would be interested in Amane and Teru teaming up against the Clockkeepers lol... in this situation, I think their goals align .... ? why not ... if they both want their power revoked... Teru doesn't like the mysteries existing at all! Neither does Kunishige....

not really impossible to me that they would unite, they uhh, they ? ? they are coworkers in the . hot guy juice stand

you're in my twisted post of fantasy so, well. For fun. For fun! let's imagine Tsukasa is locked back in Amane's boundary, helpless. And then, let's assume there is no choice but to peel the clockkeeper yorishiro in order to right the school's time, and Amane nudges Nene-chan to do it (what a sensation! how haunting! who is the 'bad guy'?)... let's say after that, Natsuhiko and Sakura don't actually have a reason to free Tsukasa-- I mean-- Mitsuba is in their pocket, and No. 7 allegedly already agreed to peeling Tsukasa ... so past a certain point, do they need him anymore? Haven't they accomplished enough? I'm not sure either of them really and truly ally with Tsutsu... and he's already willfully suicidal on his own. They know he wants to be destroyed. There is no reason to 'save' him, he isn't asking to be saved at all; not the plan and they know it. If he's in Amane's clutches, that's convenient in a way.

If only Nene-chan could free Tsukasa, and become his assistant for real...

Oh yeah... I also have the thought that ah, I would love it if the Clockkeeper's losing power meant Akane lost his kaii-related memories? That would mean losing his memories of confessions with Ao-chan, and the ability to help heal her hand, or even understand it is hurt, perhaps... it would place a lot of power into Teru's favor, as he and Aoi could then exclusively share the kaii-world-knowledge, and only he could heal her, or protect her from supernatural harm. I like the thought of Akane and Aoi having to 'start over' in a way, and Aoi having to lead this time... I like Teru's manipulative underhandedness, with Aoi, how he blackmails her, pressures her, etc... Akane being made the least relevant and capable would be very captivating. It could force Aoi to protect him doggedly. Which I think would suit the manga's ever-reversing dynamics (: HOWEVER! Akane losing his memories of kaii would ALSO isolate Teru, as Akane is the only person who knew his real self. A lonely Teru is fun and funny!

I guess I also wonder if Kunishige-san and Tiara are actually beating ass out there in the school, if Kunishige has a tool for ... any of this.. on his person... to not be effected ... or something.. idfk. I don't actually care about them but I am trying to bare them in mind lol....

that was a lot of nonsense, wasn't it ....

the events are really making my head spin haha. SO MUCH COULD HAPPEN... ! And... I bet everything else will haha.

I'm sure we'll learn something about Amane and Tsukasa. If nothing else, 12 year old Tsu is awaiting for Nene-chan once time resumes in the school....

#avvy's JSHK

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leadxxr · 15 days

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hi im biased probably but i love your dwight. you've incorporated so much into your portrayal that i don't see in others between the nail biting, nervousness turning into a boldness, and the glasses shenanigans i love him

chels i am going to sob vehemently rn this is such a huge compliment like ??? firstly thank u sm for actually like recognizing those little things about him ??? that's so incredibly validating bc i honestly kinda wondered if i was the only person who picked up on his subtleties like that?? Even something so small and seemingly insignificant as his language . . . like I don't see him as being someone dropping F-Bombs and swearing like a sailor even though the Fog would / does definitely bring that out in a lot of people. I wanna scream for years about how whereas he's incredibly awkward, and some might even call him spineless or cowardly, that's pretty dependent on the situation. Those aspects of him are NOT his entire personality and your ghostie esp has been pretty pivotal in establishing that. Our interactions have helped me to flesh out those other sides of him beyond the presence of other survivors and i am super grateful for the opportunity to do so. He's not a stereotype. He has his own principals. (And I love putting him in positions that challenge those principals) He's not a brainy nerd like a lot of people seem to think he is and he typically picks his battles pretty well. (He forms strong opinions of shitty people, but mostly he keeps them to himself until he reaches a breaking point.) Whereas he lets others walk all over him in certain contexts, it's the presence of others in danger/a vulnerable state that genuinely snaps him to action and makes him extremely capable of channeling boldness and courage in his own way. (Got me thinkin' about Rose from his tome now sobbing) And whereas I believe the reasoning behind his role as the Leader is initially founded in somewhat selfish intentions (his own crippling self esteem and lack of confidence in his own abilities/ability to survive alone), the longer he's been in the Fog, I like to think he begins to evolve from that. Once he forms that bond with people he's stuck here with, it becomes about a lot more than just his own survival. He begins to develop more confidence than he'd ever had before the Fog, even if it can be fleeting. He has such a strong conscience that guides his actions and at the end of the day, he just wants everyone to get out alive if only to prove that they can. I love the character arc I've created for him and ily for loving him too <3 Dwight Fairfield is nothing if not determined. (and sometimes kinda stubborn as hell lmaooo)

#( POSTS A FUCKING NOVEL IN RESPONSE )#( BC YOU GOT ME ON A TANGENT ABOUT MY BABY NOW RAHHH )#( he's such a dynamic character and has so much potential outside of who people see on the surface )#( he literally just -- you've seen. he can go from shaking in his boots to discovering a dormant confidence to channel out of like nowhere #( always leaves him terrified like 'oh shit did i just say that oh lm AO wild' )#~ ooc #~ answered #nghtshroud

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knamjooned · 1 year

Text

WITNESS: Team Nocturna (MYG)

pairing: officer! yoongi x journalist! reader genre: pokemon au, romance, mystery tropes: mysterious murder, strangers to lovers, forced proximity words: 12,600

SUMMARY: Having this woman assigned to him was going to test his patience, but Yoongi didn’t want to disappoint his mentor. There may be more to her story, and Yoongi finds himself reluctantly curious.

warnings: small descriptions a bloody fight and a past murder, descriptions of grief related to losing a loved one

——— ⥼ SERIES MASTERLIST ⥽

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This has been in the works for a year. I almost forgot about it, to be honest. I want to keep writing the series, though, so tell me... which one would you enjoy next? Look at the series masterlist, the summaries, and then let me know!

YOONGI’S TEAM: [ info graphic here ]

Charizard (EGAN): This pokemon has taken the role of leader among Yoongi’s pokemon. He answers only to Yoongi and will protect him with his life.

Marowak (ROE): While in Alola, he happened upon a group of these pokemon dancing to pay tribute to their fallen friends. She is the caretaker of the group.

Rapidash (SHOTS): It took a lot of time for him to trust Yoongi. Yoongi has been with this pokemon since he was a ponyta, but only recently properly caught him.

Victini (VEE): Yoongi didn’t want this pokemon on his team, but they proved their worth during a particularly dangerous undercover operation Yoongi had done.

Coalossal (ROCKY): Yoongi got lost in the mountains and found a little rolycoly. She is a little clumsy and sat fire to his backyard on accident one time.

Moltres (MOLLY): Still unsure why this pokemon keeps coming around, Yoongi has gotten used to it popping up out of nowhere. Yoongi has refused to catch them.

READER’S TEAM: [ info graphic here ]

Rotom: A little overprotective, but loves to be useful and gather information for you as you search for answers.

Eevee: Highly social and sweet, she loves to be petted, but is also a good judge of character.

He heard the loud voices going back and forth in the lieutenant's office, even from his desk twenty feet away. The handful of people that littered the room glanced at one another nervously, but went back to their work filing paperwork, answering calls, or tapping at their keyboards. The loud box fans circulated the hot air that seemed to lay heavy on the second floor of the police department. Another detective walked past his desk, and his growlithe obediently padded behind, stopping to sniff at Yoongi’s chair.

“Fine, just one,” Yoongi murmured, sneaking a treat he kept in a drawer. It took a moment longer than usual, with his arm in the cast and sling, but the growlithe happily snapped it up and went along his way. Yoongi let a soft smile pull at his lips, until the lieutenant’s office door was pulled open. The whole room paused, only for a moment, then went back to doing their usual daily work. If he noticed the quick stop, the captain did not show it. He stomped out, ignoring all that was happening around him, and headed down the stairs with his large arcanine following.

Once again the bustling office quieted for just a moment, until the lieutenant gave a shake of his head. Then, it was back to business. Yoongi was surprised when his boss beckoned him with his fingers. Frowning, he stood and made his way through the desks. Once he was inside, his boss closed the door.

“Everything okay, Lieutenant?” He knew it wasn’t by the way the man fell into his chair and rubbed his face with his hands. Yoongi sat in the chair across from him, watching his face carefully. With the bags slightly visible below his eyes and the worry lines that weren’t on his forehead days ago, it must have been keeping him up at night. His partner pokemon, a stoutland named Dash, placed his head on the man’s knee.

“No, Yoongi, it’s not.” When his boss used his name informally, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “I made a mistake, and it seems the Captain sees it as one that may not be fixable.”

“Daewon,” Yoongi said softly. His boss chuckled, amused at Yoongi using his given name informally as well. “What happened?”

“I thought my source was good, but it turned out there was money, drugs, and more things than I thought were involved. The press got a hold of everything and is threatening to do an exposé on the precinct.” His pokemon let out a whine as he felt his partner’s stress. Daewon petted the pokemon for obvious comfort.

“That.. is not what I was expecting,” Yoongi admitted. This man had trained him, pushed him, and got him out of many bad situations as a kid to make something of himself. It was difficult to believe Daewon was capable of missing the signs of something so important. “I assume you weren’t supposed to tell me?”

“No, but I needed a friend, not a colleague,” Daewon admitted. He hesitated a moment, then lifted his hand from Dash’s head to lean forward in his office chair. It creaked as he placed his elbows on the messy desk. “I do have an idea, but I know you won’t like it.”

“Okay…?” As Yoongi sat back, curious, a flash of light appeared and his partner Egan, a charizard, formed next to him. He snorted smoke from his nose in amusement. Daewon didn’t even flinch when the large pokemon appeared, but Dash looked at the new visitor with narrowed eyes.

“You’ll be spending time with a journalist who is going to write an article praising the precinct as the best one in the city.”

Yoongi’s stomach started to churn with anxiety from just the mention of a ‘journalist’. They were the reason he was on desk duty for the next six months! Too nosy for their own good, Yoongi put his own safety on the line just so they wouldn’t get even a scratch. Instead, he got a broken arm and was off the streets for his trouble. He felt Egan lean closer, huffing close to Yoongi’s ear, which brought him back to the here and now.

“It’s the only choice we have?” As much as he hated the idea, his own morals wouldn’t let him turn away a friend in need, especially one as important as Lieutenant Kim Daewon.

-----

Sitting on the table were stacks of items, including file folders, loose pages, photographs, a large map of the area, and sticky notes. You had attempted to put it up on the wall in an organized fashion, but since nothing made sense, it was more of a collage of information that led to nowhere. Still, your persistence had gotten you some leads in the form of a recently outed precinct. Apparently, your source had let it slip that this precinct had gotten caught up in a corruption scandal and was looking for some good press.

And this was your in.

With Eevee watching you with big eyes, you go through all the information you have with a fine-toothed comb. Using Rotom, you organize all evidence to the best of your abilities into your phone, dictating the levels of importance as 3 (not very), 2 (might be), and 1 (definitely). Having Rotom alert at all times on your phone will be extremely helpful as you interview and talk with different members of the precinct. It could see things you don’t, and will assign a level of importance for you to look over later.

Your phone chirped to let you know someone texted you.

[ mom ] : haven’t heard from you in a while. is the new job working out well?

[ you ] : yeah, i’m getting back into the swing of writing. things are okay.

[ mom ] : that’s great to hear. stay safe.

[ you ] : always. love you.

[ mom ] : love you too.

Taking a deep breath, you go over the words you sent to your mother, conveying that everything was getting back to normal after what happened last year. In a way, things were getting back to the way it was. You had just gotten a print journalist job at a popular article website, focusing on interesting local news, which is how you got this particular job. You had a small but affordable apartment, a used car that was recently paid off, and even went out to the bar a few nights ago with colleagues.

Still, the brutal murder of your beloved sister was always there. Questions of what actually happened swirled virtually every day in your mind, building thicker and thicker, with nothing new to cut away at the unknown. When your mother told you to stay safe, she meant it literally. Because of her traumatic past, she insisted her daughters would know how to defend themselves. You learned self-defense and how to use a gun, just like your sister.

Which is why the murder didn’t make sense to you. Your sister was just as cautious, as smart, as strong as you were, but her life had been taken. For what? No one seemed to know even a year later. It was considered a wrong place, wrong time type of event, but you didn’t believe that.

When your phone pierced through your thoughts, you jumped a mile high, heart racing as you scrambled to answer the call. Rotom jumped out in surprise and buzzed around your head frantically. Eevee found it amusing, giggling at your expense.

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

The first thing you noticed was the tense atmosphere as you entered the station. The second was the pokemon partners: classic arcanines, rustic stoutlands, and rare boltunds from the Galar region. You felt eyes on you as the desk clerk led you quickly to the lieutenant's office, but ignored them as Eevee bounced happily at your side. Rotom was safely inside your phone, observing quietly for any useful information. The desk clerk knocked on the door, peeked her head in, and had a short conversation with the man. You waited a few steps away, taking the time to subtly gaze around the area.

People were doing just as you thought would be happening in a police station: typing on computers, shuffling through paperwork, speaking to a few civilians about whatever they were reporting. You caught the eye of one of the detectives, leaning back in his office chair at his desk with a sling on his left arm. He looked tired but curious, raising an eyebrow as you locked eyes. You nodded with a small, polite smile as the clerk stepped back and gestured toward the opened door.

After a brief introduction, Lieutenant Kim picked up his phone and asked for someone to come into his office. Eevee jumped onto your lap, settling in as you absentmindedly ran your hand over her fur. You felt rotom make your phone vibrate, letting you know he was still there with you. As the door opened, you turned your head just enough to see the man in the arm sling come into the room and sit on the chair next to you.

It was easy to see that he had been recently put on desk duty because of his injury. It was equally as easy to see that he wasn’t completely on board with being stuck with you for a week or so. His pouty lips were in a slight frown as he squirmed in his chair, trying to find a comfortable way to sit casually with his injured arm.

“This is Min Yoongi, the youngest officer to become a detective in our precinct.” Lieutenant Kim said it proudly, making you curious about a personal relationship between the two. Unfortunately, that was not your end goal with this mission. You filed that thought away mentally for a later time. “Detective Min, this is --”

“The reporter, yeah, I got that. Good to meet you.” He leaned forward and held out his good arm. His gruff voice conveyed annoyance he was trying to hide, probably for the sake of his boss. You reached forward, took his hand, and gave it a shake. In the back of your mind, you scolded yourself for thinking he had really nice hands.

“Yoongi,” you heard the lieutenant mutter under his breath. He narrowed his eyes at the young man, but Yoongi didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Likewise,” you offered, pulling your hand back. Eevee stood and jumped onto his lap with no warning, sitting and staring up at Yoongi with her big eyes. You held back a tired sigh, as this was a usual thing for her. She was very friendly, always wanting to socialize. Yoongi’s tired pout was replaced by a soft, one-sided smile as he patted the pokemon on the head. “Sorry, she wants to know everyone. If she bothers you, let me know.”

“No, it’s fine. She seems sweet.” He glanced at you when he said this, making your cheeks heat up. You cleared your throat and stood, giving Kim Daewon a polite bow. Yoongi let Eevee hop down and then stood himself. “I guess I’ll show you around?”

“Sure.”

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

After an awkward tour through the building, Yoongi found himself sitting across from you in one of his favorite lunch spots in the city. He had found a quiet table in the back corner, away from the usual bustle of the midday rush. You weren’t exactly like he thought, but he wasn’t surprised at how you sucked in all the information he had given you. He had given you a public tour of the station, but you tried to charm Yoongi with casual compliments and flirty smiles to get into some more guarded areas.

He prided himself with his ability to see through these manipulation tactics, but you had almost broken him. Still, he had successfully kept you away from the areas normal people weren’t allowed. You pouted quietly for a few moments, which he found annoyingly cute, but seemingly forgot about it as food was mentioned.

“So, tell me about yourself. How did you get into this kind of work?” You held a burger in your hands, speaking before you took a bite. Before Yoongi could answer, you closed your eyes and hummed in pleasure. “Wow, this is fantastic,” you complimented as you chewed.

“Best burger place on this side of the city,” Yoongi replied with a soft chuckle. He glanced to his right, where he saw Eevee happily munching on some pokemon food in a large bowl in front of her. She caught his eye and wiggled her fluffy tall in response. “I didn’t think I’d be in law enforcement,” he said quietly, picking at his fries. He held back anything specific, not sure he wanted to expose himself like that again.

“I assume you weren’t the most innocent kid on the block?” you grinned, munching on your own fries. He lifted his eyes to you, which you met with curiosity. Yoongi squirmed in his chair and looked to the side, clearing his throat and rolling the shoulder of his casted arm.

“Not even a little,” he admitted. “I never hurt anyone, but the usual stupid things, like breaking into homes and cars, stealing anything easy from stores to sell, that kind of thing.”

“What happened to make you choose another path?”

Yoongi hesitated, opening his mouth, then closing it without an answer. Some things just weren’t meant to be spoken about with strangers, especially the homelife he had as a kid. Before he could figure out how to change the subject, a light flashed and his Alolan marowak came out, eyeing Eevee’s bowl of food hungrily. You sucked in a breath and scanned the pokemon with wide eyes.

“You’ve been to Alola?”

“Did some training there. I bonded with Roe when I was training with one of the Kahuna’s there, and we became partners.” At the mention of his name, the dark marowak lifted her head and let out a questioning noise. After introducing yourself, you allowed Rotom to come out of your phone.

“I only have two pokemon, but that’s all I need. I’m not a professional trainer.” Rotom buzzed around your head and then floated close to Yoongi’s face, scrutinizing him for a long moment. He buzzed what could only be a warning, and then floated back to you. Yoongi blinked, and looked at you for guidance on speaking with Rotom. “Ah, he’s a little protective,” you admit sheepishly. Lifting an arm,you poked at Rotom. “Be nice, he’s a friend.”

“Does he always hang out on your phone?” Yoongi asked casually, although warning bells were going off in his head. These pokemon were used for investigations and searching through electronics. If he had given into your charm back at the precinct, your pokemon might have retained things it shouldn’t have access to.

“Yeah, especially for interviews. That way he just records everything and I don’t have to write anything down,” you replied cheerfully. Yoongi must have had a look on his face, because you quickly became serious. “If it makes you more comfortable, I won’t do that. I can take notes by myself just as well.”

“It makes sense,” Yoongi shrugged. “He may catch something you miss. We do the same thing.”

“I can tell it makes you uncomfortable,” you pointed out. Yoongi’s lips pressed into a thin line as he looked away for a moment. An awkward silence lasted for a moment, then you cleared your throat. “Can we talk and walk back to the station?”

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

After wrapping up the introduction at the police station, you made your way back to your apartment, mentally exhausted. It was only early evening, but the mental laps your brain had been making all day had taken its toll on you already. When it came to making your official project known to the officers, you had been pleasantly surprised with the kind and welcoming atmosphere. It was also highly amusing to see Yoongi take the other’s teasing with quiet acceptance.

Eevee let out a questioning squeak, head tilting as if to ask if you were okay. You stretched your arms over your head, yawned, then patted the little pokemon on the top of her head. She seemed happy with your response, so she bounced happily on her paws to her comfy bed in the corner. Rotom came out just as a cute little snore came from Eevee.

“Alright, pal, did you get anything we can use?” Rotom buzzed then landed on a thin, circular metal piece that connected to your computer wirelessly. As he transferred the photos and recordings he had secretly taken, you carefully took several see-through bags with burnt papers to your kitchen table. Your laptop was opened in one corner, so you used the whole table to spread out these bagged papers.

You felt a lump in your throat when you looked at the handwritten notes. Your sister had journaled sporadically, except when she wanted to remember an important event. Letting yourself become emotional for a moment, you gingerly touched one as you read the phrases that were almost burned away.

“... so proud of my little sister! I knew …” “...avorite flowers and chocolat…” “... ing to be a big star reporter, I know…”

As memories of your college graduation flooded your mind, you cleared your throat, shut the mental door to the past, and turned to your laptop. Rotom finished his task and floated near your head, patiently waiting for instructions. For the next few hours, you looked through videos and photos, as well as conversations, for anything connecting to your sister’s case. In the back of your mind, you knew this was illegal, but all the legal routes had been taken. Besides, you weren’t harming anyone, and you weren’t going to share anything that wasn’t directly connected.

You found yourself falling into a relaxed state as you listened to Yoongi’s voice at the diner, leaning back in your chair with your lips curled into a small smile. The audio recording ended and Rotom sent a light zap against your hand to get your attention. You jumped about a mile out of your chair and yelped loudly. Eevee’s head raised quickly, looking towards you with panic. When she saw it wasn’t serious, her head went back down and her eyes closed.

“What? I was thinking!” you grumbled, rubbing your hand over the tingling spot, feeling your cheeks reddening. Rotom buzzed and rolled his eyes, then floated toward the screen. You watched curiously as he let another video start, fast forwarding quickly and then pausing. It took you a moment of looking into the main office area, but then you saw what he saw.

A smokey outline of the letter “N” on a corner of paper. It sat on the desk of Min Yoongi. Your heart seemed to freeze in your chest, but you willed it back to beating as you took a deep breath. It didn’t mean Yoongi was part of them, it just meant he might be investigating them. Still, you now had a reason to be careful around the detective.

You moved your eyes to the table, covered in burned paper in bags, and scanned them until you found the section you wanted. You took the three pages and brought them close enough to try and read. This was the section of the journal that had been the most burnt, but somehow your sister had saved it before throwing it under a chair. She had been murdered moments later, three feet away from it.

“...am noct … overnme… shadow… kemon creati… eeper than we thou… rld… be doomed.”

It was the emblem of Team Nocturna.

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

The next day, Yoongi was surprised to see you standing outside his door a few minutes before he usually left for work. A smile curved your lips as you looked expectantly up at him. Blinking in shock, he stared at you for longer than he should, taking in your simple updo, business casual outfit, phone and notepad in your hands.

“Good morning, Detective Min.”

“Good morning,” he mumbled, finally finding his voice as he stepped out and used his good hand to lock his door. You waited patiently for him to finish and start walking before following a step behind. There was a pep in your step he could not seem to match, and the idea of coffee slammed into him. He had forgotten to make himself a cup. He stopped abruptly, causing you to bump into his back.

“Sorry! Is everything okay?” you asked, stepping around to his side. Your eyes moved over his face, causing the tips of his ears and cheekbones to turn pink.

“Yeah, no worries. Uh, do you want coffee? I need coffee.”

“Oh! Sure! I’ll pay this time. No arguing,” you added, raising your eyebrows. A small smile played on his lips as you looked at him with mock intimidation. He nodded and led you to his usual coffee spot when he didn’t have time to make any in the morning. After the coffee had started to wake him up completely, Yoongi found himself wanting to know more about you. His brain was now firing at a usual speed.

“Um… did you sleep well?” As soon as it left his mouth, Yoongi was hit with regret. It was a stupid, personal question that didn’t match your current relationship status. He kept his eyes forward, pressing his lips together in embarrassment.

“Mostly. I… stayed up a bit too late, honestly.” You laughed, shrugging almost apologetically. Yoongi was impressed with how awake you were if that was the case. “I have another… article I’m writing that I’ve been stuck on. I found some new information and was focused on that.”

“A break in the case?” he quipped, pushing himself past the previous stupid question. You laughed again, and something jumped in his chest. Yoongi cleared his throat, not wanting to dwell on the obvious attraction he was feeling toward you at the moment.

“Exactly,” you replied, bumping his arm with yours. Unfortunately, it was the one that was still healing, and the jostling caused a dull ache to start. Yoongi tried to hide his wince, but you noticed - those reporter eyes - and made him stop only steps from the entrance of the station. You looked regretfully at his arm and then at his face. Your concern and apologies made him want to kiss you right here, in front of everyone.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” he replied, more gruff than he intended. He walked ahead of you, assuming you’d follow, and made his way to the elevator. When you entered next to him, Yoongi kept his eyes forward, but noticed you kept side-eyeing him.

“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry I bumped into your arm….” you trailed off, biting your lip nervously. You gripped your phone tightly, and Yoongi felt like a jerk as the doors closed.

“It’s okay, honestly. Do you have something you want to focus on today, or is it just following me around again?” Yoongi asked, making sure his voice was more upbeat than a moment ago. He glanced at you, and was relieved to see a playful smile back on your lips. The doors opened and he led you toward his desk.

As the two of you passed other detectives, most nodded or lifted a hand in a short wave as a greeting, but a few kept a blank face and kept their eyes away from your direction. Yoongi pressed his lips together, unusually bothered by the clear disapproval of your presence. It didn’t seem to bother you, though, as you dragged an empty office chair over near his desk. He sat down and started to sort through the new files on his desk.

“What is your goal as a detective? Are you focused on moving forward in your position? Or are you content to stay where you are?”

The question surprised him enough to fumble with a folder filled with loose papers, causing them to splash onto the floor. In the busy area, no one stopped to look as you slid to the floor to pick them up. Yoongi flushed as he turned his eyes to his desk as you placed them on top and went back to your chair, an amused glint in your eyes.

“Right now, I’m focused on getting off desk duty and back to solving cases outside of the station,” he answered, going back to scanning paperwork and typing with one hand on his computer. “I was under the impression this article was about the precinct, not just about me.” He sent you a soft smile.

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

You decided to get lunch on your own, giving Yoongi space to breathe. You had been admittedly overzealous with the questions this morning, and you almost felt bad for the bombardment. It was mostly questions to fill your future piece, but you had been able to slip in some inquiries about your personal investigation. Nothing new had been gained, but Yoongi seemed just as knowledgeable as any other officer.

Certain teams were well known in the area, those working for the good of pokemon and humans and those working towards enslavement of powerful pokemon. Team Nocturna is somewhere in the shadows. Either people knew of the organization and kept it well hidden, or very few people knew and laughed it off as another tale of extremes.

At the diner Yoongi had taken you to before, you pulled out a crumpled paper from your pocket. You had hastily slipped it into your pocket when you ‘knocked off’ his files. You wondered if Yoongi even noticed it was gone, but you didn’t have time to worry about his thoughts. Glancing around, you saw no one looking your way, feeling safe to look the sheet over.

It was a piece of paper pulled out of a spiral notebook, with a crude sketch of the Team Nocturna symbol, along with a messy hand drawn map. Below the pencil marks was a name.

Kim Taehyung.

Frowning, you tried to connect that name to any information you had in your head, but nothing was lighting the bulb, so to speak. You took out your phone, snapped a photo of the paper, and sent Rotom to search the web for any information. While you waited, you ate your lunch.

[ mom ] : rotom just asked me about a man, what's this about?

You kept in a tired groan, making a mental note to scold your pokemon for bothering your mother. If she found out about your real investigation, it would create more stress than she needed. Finishing your bite, you weighed your options. You could say it's for an article, or you could say it was for personal reasons. Either way, she would want to know more about Kim Taehyung.

[ mom ] : detective min yoongi. Is this for work or pleasure??

You nearly choked on your food, coughing and taking a long drink of your water. The waitress sent you a questioning glance, but you waved it off. Why had Rotom asked about Yoongi? This opened a whole other set of questions your mother could ask. You decided to keep it simple with the truth.

[ you ] : I don't know why rotom asked you about detective min. I'm writing a piece on the officers in the station here.

[ mom ] : maybe your pokemon is just being protective. Is there… a spark there?

You chuckled to yourself as her text was followed by the winking face, showing how proud of her little rotom pun she had made. What she said made sense, at least a little. You were definitely attracted to Yoongi, and Rotom would be able to see that.

[ you ] : haha, very funny. I'm not looking for romance right now

[ mom ] : that's not an answer to my question my dear

You huffed and ignored the text, stuffing your phone into your pocket as you paid the bill and went back to your home office to write up a draft. Sure, you were there investigating your sister’s death, but you still had bills to pay.

When the afternoon turned to evening, rotom returned with information that could actually lead you somewhere. You'd have to confirm it, but the man who had made the map could lead you to where you wanted to go.

By late evening, you had enough information about Kim Taehyung to find a direct way to contact him. You decided to test your luck tomorrow, the exciting new information making you mentally exhausted. You headed to bed, but got a surprising text a few hours later.

[ det min ] : are you awake?

[ det min ] : ignore this if not

[ det min ] : shit I woke you up. sorry.

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

Staring at the ceiling, Yoongi felt the heaviness of regret after sending those text messages. He had finally gotten the courage to speak to you on a more casual level, but why did he have to send them just after midnight?

He covered his eyes with his uncasted arm, letting out a groaning sigh. He was an adult, not a teenage boy with no experience. He had thought to play it cool, do some flirty, cliche texting in the middle of the night, but he just…

[ you ] : you did but it was a nice surprise.

[ you ] : is this business or personal?

A rush of relief slid through his body, relaxing the anxiety-induced tension. A grin came involuntarily to his mouth as he contemplated what to say.

[ det min ] : is there a preference?

[ you ] : middle of the night seems personal, I'm okay with that. Can't sleep?

[ det min ] : no, but it's normal for me.

[ det min ] : would you be willing to take a walk with me?

[ you ] : right now? Or later?

[ det min ] : uh I was thinking now but nevermind…

[ you ] : sure, eevee is restless for some reason, anyway. Meet you outside my building?

[ det min ] : sure, in 30 mins.

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

You hyper focused on brushing your hair as you put on simple workout clothes for your walk with Yoongi. It was a clear night and a few stars were twinkling through the city lights as you stepped outside with eevee bouncing beside you. Instead of the professional office attire you were used to, he was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, with a zip-up hoodie and sneakers. Yoongi looked like a handsome, normal guy, even with the off-white cast on his lower arm. He gave you a shy smile and a quick nod of greeting. Both of you fell into a comfortable silence as you walked down the street without a destination in mind, your pokemon sniffing the ground and jumping on random bugs.

“How’s the article?” Yoongi asked. You raised an eyebrow as you looked over at him. “Wait, I didn’t mean to bring work up ... “ You grinned as he hesitated, clearly frustrated. Bumping his elbow with your own, he glanced back at you, his frown disappearing. “I’m not sure what to talk about.”

“It’s nice to just walk, isn’t it? The night is quiet, you aren’t getting distracted with chaos around you.”

As you walked around the block, eventually your arm hooked into his elbow and you leaned into Yoongi’s side. He accepted without any reaction, continuing a story about a friend of his encountering a legendary pokemon from Galar. Impressed, you listened with rapt interest as you two sat on a bench. Eevee jumped into Yoongi’s lap, and he gently ran his hand through her hair as you laughed at his story.

“So… Do you have any family?” Yoongi asked, almost shy. He cleared his throat and rubbed his knee.You found it incredibly cute that he was nervous about this, even though he’s a tough detective that had been in dangerous situations more than once.

“It’s just my mom and me, now,” you replied. You knew how to keep your feelings hidden, but Yoongi was good at his job. It wasn’t a surprise when he placed his hand on your knee, awkwardly squeezing through his cast. “Caught that, didn’t you?”

“It’s part of my job. Can I ask what happened?”

“Never knew my dad, so I can’t tell you what happened. My sister … she was killed over a year ago.”

“That’s brutal.” You waited for the words conveying pity, but it didn’t come. “Is that what made you get into investigative journalism?”

Instead of asking for the grisly details, Yoongi turned the focus onto your love of writing and his love of mysteries. You didn’t get home until two hours later, falling into a deep sleep that was more restful than it had been in ages.

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

His eyes twitched beneath his eyelids in sync with the tapping on his window. Yoongi grunted and pulled the covers over his head, trying to focus on the softness of his sheets beneath his cheek. In response, the tapping got louder, until a loud shriek came through. Yoongi groaned and turned onto his back, the blanket reluctantly being thrown across the bed. It was still dark, but hints of the sun were rising from the horizon when Yoongi glared at his bedroom window. The bright, orange legendary bird stared at him with an amused glare.

Yoongi still had no idea why this legendary pokemon considered him a friend. He had shown up to help Yoongi when he was in Johto, and had been coming around off and on ever since. He once again questioned it silently as he left his warm bed to get ready for another day at the office. After he had showered and gotten dressed, he made sure to make a healthy breakfast for his partner pokemon, including Moltres, who he called Molly. The large bird didn’t fit in his home, so they all gathered on the back porch to watch the sun rise.

Roe waddled over to where Yoongi was slouched in a chair, shoveling cereal into his mouth, and tapped her bone against his leg. It startled Yoongi for a second, but he was once again reminded the ghostly flame on the bone was just that - ghostly. It wouldn’t hurt him. Vee the Victini and Rocky the Coalossal seemed to be having an intense conversation in the yard. The smaller one chirped firmly while Rocky looked confused about what she was supposed to be doing.

“Egan, what are they doing? The last time this happened, half my yard burned,” Yoongi signed, glancing at his Charizard. The creature shrugged and continued to watch the pair carefully. “Can you make sure that doesn’t happen this time?” With a nod, Egan stood and made his way toward the other two pokemon. “Okay, Roe, what is it? You look… concerned.”

“Mar-mar,” she growled, lifting her bone to point toward the pastures that spread out from behind his small house. Frowning, Yoongi watched as Shots, his Rapidash, galloped over a hill, coming into view. On his back was… an eevee? Concerned, Yoongi pushed his confusion down and quickly jogged to meet his pokemon at the edge of his lawn. He cursed under his breath when he tried to gather the small, unconscious pokemon in his arms, the cast and sling not doing anything to help his task. Molly squawked and circled above them, seeming to look around. Yoongi was sure the bird pokemon was looking for clues as to what had happened and where.

“Egan, help me get Eevee off Shots and on the ground!” As the sun broke over the horizon, Yoongi and Egan gently laid the creature on the ground. “Thanks, big guy. Why don’t you guys go back into your pokeballs so I can figure this out? I promise I’ll keep you up to date, okay? Roe, get the med kit from the kitchen.” Reluctantly, four of them disappeared in a flash of light and the marowak hurried to the kitchen. Molly the Moltres glided down to the ground and tilted it’s head at Yoongi. “Not catching you, already have one legendary on the team. Can you find the ranger for me, see if he’s in the area? Namjoon?”

With a squawk, Molly flapped her wings and flew off across the pasture and toward the distant line of trees that was the start of a forest area. Yoongi studied the unconscious eevee quickly, running a hand over its body. When he gently pressed against its left hip and thigh, it winced and yelped even while unconscious.

"Maro!"

Yoongi took the med kit from the pokemon and settled it next to him in the grass. He managed to wrestle it open and take out a few items. Roe looked worriedly at the eevee, wringing its hands.

"It doesn't seem broken, but I don't want to do anything until I can get Namjoon to look at it," Yoongi murmured as he placed an ice pack on the area. The injured pokemon flinched, then settled. Finally, the eevee opened its eyes slowly. It made a light noise as if to say 'thank you', then closed its eyes once again.

Yoongi expected a trainer of some kind to run out of the forest at any moment, but after a good 30 minutes no one did. Roe had gone back into its pokeball earlier, leaving him to softly stroke eevee as they rested. When 40 minutes passed, Yoongi heard a shout at the line of trees. Sitting up slowly so as not to rustle the injured creature, he spotted Namjoon jogging his way through the pasture with Molly flying above him.

"Tell me what happened." Namjoon said bluntly, immediately falling to his knees to help the creature. He did a quick assessment with his hands while Yoongi told him all he knew. Which was nothing, to be honest.

"I think I recognize this eevee, but I can't say for certain." It brought the heaviness of worry onto his chest, though. "Will they be okay?"

“After some rest and maybe a few weeks of rehabilitation on the leg, I think this eevee will be just fine.” Namjoon’s calm, deep voice helped pull the worries from Yoongi’s mind. As he wrapped the creature's left hind leg, Namjoon glanced at Yoongi’s own cast. “How are you holding up, friend?”

“I have two more weeks with this stupid thing,” Yoongi huffed, settling onto the grass with crossed legs, slouching forward. He stared down at the cast and let out a long, tired sigh. “I also have to do rehab with my arm, maybe eevee and I can do it together.”

“There are places you can go,” Namjoon chuckled, finishing his final exam by making sure the wrap was secure and comfortable. The creature seemed to have woken up a few moments ago, but hadn’t made a sound or movement until now. Namjoon sat back as the small pokemon tentatively put weight on her feet and pushed themselves up. After a few tentative steps, it looked at the two men sitting next to it and let out a thankful sound. Suddenly, Yoongi felt stupid. He had seen this eevee with you, just a few days ago. He sat up straight, eyes widening as the thoughts connected.

“Shit, I do know the trainer, but where is she and why was she in the forest?” He looked into the trees far away and stood, heart pounding in his ears. Namjoon furrowed his brows as he did the same, scooping the eevee into his arms. They settled thankfully into the crook of his arm. Yoongi pulled out a pokeball and let out Shots, the horse-like pokemon stomping its hooves as if he knew the intensity of the situation.

“Where are you going?” Namjoon asked, stepping toward him, reaching to grab his good arm. Yoongi pushed it away with his elbow and pulled himself onto Shots' back not-so-gracefully. Namjoon lifted an arm once again to help, but Yoongi ignored it. His friend sighed and stepped back.

“Into the woods. Eevee’s trainer may be in danger, considering the pokemon's wounds. Hop on if you want a ride.” He waited a moment, back straight, but Namjoon shook his head, not knowing if the creature trusted him enough not to burn him with its flames.

“I’ll stay here in case something shows up at your place, Detective. Plus, eevee should get some rest.” He stroked the pokemon’s fur. Yoongi nodded and used his thighs and feet to prod Shots into a gallop toward the trees.

The fire making up its mane was unnoticeable to the touch, so Yoongi strained to balance with only one working arm. Shots seemed to notice, so he somehow made his fire mane tangible enough to loosely hold.

"How'd you do that?" Yoongi shouted, confused but thankful. Shots snorted and seemed to wink at his trainer as they got closer to the treeline. Yoongi decided to figure it out later, and scanned the surroundings as they entered the forest. Shots slowed to a stop, not able to freely go forward. "Guess I'll be walking for a bit. Thanks, buddy. We're gonna talk about that thing you did later."

With a flash of light, Shots was pulled into his pokeball and Yoongi adjusted his arm sling. He stood where he was, eyes moving slowly over the forest floor for any clues for him to use. It didn't take long for him to see the prints of Shots bringing eevee to him earlier. Slowly, as to not disturb the area, he followed it for only a few moments along the edge of the forest, then found the spot eevee was found. Crouching, Yoongi studied the indention in the leaves, rocks, and grass. After a moment, he saw a few dark droplets of dried blood. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself not to dwell on the terrifying things that could be happening to you. It wasn't eevee’s blood, they had no open wound, but it might not be yours, either.

He noticed the angle of the droplets showed him where it came from, and started to follow it deeper into the forest. After a few minutes, he saw a dried collection of blood on the forest floor, this one big enough to indicate a large wound of some kind. Clenching his jaw, he took a breath through his nose to collect his thoughts. It wouldn't help you at all if he didn't focus. A crack of a stick and crinkle of leaves made Yoongi turn toward the sound with a defensive stance. When he saw who it was he gasped and rushed over, catching them before they fell face first into the forest floor.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, panicked as he held you upright. You leaned against his side, Yoongi’s good arm wrapped around your waist. Covered in dirt and sweat, there was blood on your shirt and hands. “Sit down. Is this your blood?”

“Eevee… where’s Eevee? Rotom… back there,” you mumbled, letting Yoongi gently sit you on the forest floor with a grimace and a groan. Yoongi clenched his jaw as he remembered his emergency medical training and went to work. There was a gash on your side, but it seemed to miss anything important. He pulled his shirt over his head, awkwardly getting his injured arm caught but quickly untangling it. You weakly laughed, which told him you were in relatively good spirits.

“Eevee is with my friend back at my place. He’s a ranger and knows what to do.” He pressed his shirt against your wound under your shirt. “We have to get you to a hospital to get this looked at.”

“You should take your shirt off more often,” you teased softly, grunting as you took over pressing his shirt to your wound. Yoongi blushed and turned away, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He couldn’t lie about enjoying your teasing praise. As soon as he let Shots out of his pokeball, he pulled you onto its back, but only after he had convinced you the pokemon wouldn’t burn you.

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

It didn’t take long to get back to Yoongi’s ranch house, which surprised you. Was it a coincidence his place was so close to Team Nocturna’s secret base? You filed that question with a long list of others about him in the back of your mind. Namjoon, the ranger Yoongi had mentioned, had taken good care of Eevee, so much so that as soon as you were reachable, she jumped onto your lap. She whined and nuzzled against you until Namjoon apologetically pulled her away so he could look at your wounds. You told them what happened as you waited for the ambulance to arrive.

After securing a meeting with Kim Taehyung, you went to an alley behind a boxing gym, where you found the man standing at a back door. Taehyung’s eyes flicked back and forth before finally coming out of the shadows. After a murmured conversation, you thanked him by handing him a handful of cash and then left to validate his information. Having the son of a high ranking member of Team Nocturna willing to talk was a big deal, and it wasn’t something you were going to throw away. He had pointed you toward a barely-there path through the forest to a large compound. It looked like an estate a rich, eccentric family might have.

It took a while to get around security and into the main house, but with Rotom and Eevee on your side, it was done quietly. With Rotom recording and Eevee as a lookout, you passed through the hallways, only having to scramble to hide once. Unimpressed with the security that was easy to get past, you confidently made your way into a mysterious office suite.

You saw two men sitting on chairs, facing a lit fireplace, sipping on some kind of beverage. One had a sleeping espeon on his lap, absentmindedly petting it. The other had a Persian sitting on the floor next to the chair. Swallowing hard, you strained to hear anything they might be saying. Rotom quietly moved in the shadows toward them, hoping to get some kind of recording. Unfortunately, you couldn’t hear anything but bits and pieces.

“... psychic....the girl...forest...giovanni…”

“... brother...idiot….money...world…kim’s...”

Your body started to cramp from being in your hiding spot for so long, but you pushed through it for another few minutes. After signaling Rotom to come back, you and your pokemon began to quietly make your way through the main home, taking the same route as the one you had when coming in.

Unfortunately, there had been a change in security guards, and the new ones were more competent. RIght before you ran off into the trees, a flashlight shined on your foot. Freezing, you hoped they just ignored it, but you weren’t that lucky. After a shout, you felt hands grab you. Fighting with all your strength, you kicked, scratched, and even bit the guard as you struggled. Your pokemon flashed out of their pokeballs and fought for you, but they were easily taken and shoved in a small cage. You finally were able to pull a small pocket knife you had in your pocket and sliced at a few guards.

Next thing you knew, your knife was in a guard’s hand and had slashed into your side. You shouted toward your pokemon, seeing Eevee cleverly escape her cage. After a hard knock to the head, the world went dark.

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

“I don’t know what to say.” Yoongi stared at you with big eyes and his mouth open as the monitors beeped next to you. You were bandaged and hooked up to machines to keep track of your life signs in the hospital. Other than the knife wound , there were only scrapes and bruises on your skin. Yoongi felt more relief than he expected when he found out you were going to be fine. The whole time he was sitting next to you, listening to your brave but stupid attempt at investigation, the urge to reach out and hold your hand was heavy. His hand kept busy by gripping his phone to keep from doing what it really wanted to do.

“... so you aren’t going to lecture me? Tell me how stupid it was to go in there without backup?” The way your voice sounded almost disappointed made Yoongi crack a smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m leading up to that. I wanted you to get another day of rest before that happened.”

“Thanks.. I think?” you winced as you let out a soft laugh. Shifting in the bed to get comfortable, Yoongi leaned forward and reached out, touching your leg. He immediately pulled his hand back once he saw you were settled and cleared his throat.

“Seriously, though, why the hell would you go into that place? What was so important you had to risk your life to get? Not only did you almost get murdered, your pokemon were put in danger, too!” Concern began to turn into anger and frustration. Yoongi pressed his lips together tightly and narrowed his eyes. “What does Team Nocturna have to do with you?”

“I…” You trailed off, seemingly flustered over Yoongi’s intense staring. He raised his eyebrows and nodded, prodding you along with your story. “I’ve been trying to get information on them for a year. They…”

“They’re a criminal organization known for illegal experiments and domestic terrorism,” Yoongi offered when you trailed off once again. He was more confused than angry now, unable to connect the dots from you to this horrible group. After a long moment of silence, a thought occurred to him. “You were using the fluff piece for the precinct to gather information, weren’t you?”

A heavy weight fell on his chest as you refused to look him in the eyes, opting to stare at your hands in your lap. The flirting, the night walk, all the fluttering in his stomach was just to get information. Just when he was starting to open up and take a chance, the truth came out. Anger came back full force, the rapid emotional changes giving Yoongi a headache. With a heavy sigh, he stood. You peeked up at him, caught his eye, then looked back down.

“Your body language answers it for me. I’ll make sure Eevee is brought to you from the pokemon center, then I'll get to work finding Rotom for you.”

“Thank you,” you replied, barely louder than whisper. Yoongi turned and made to leave, back straight and putting a metaphorical wall between the two of you. You said his name, making him stop and look back over his shoulder. “That night was fun, it had nothing to do with what I was doing at the station. Just so you know.”

Yoongi left without answering.

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

You stayed in the hospital for the next two days, recovering from your injuries and being debriefed by Namjoon. The Rangers had taken the case, apparently, because Namjoon's girlfriend had connections they could use. Yoongi came once to drop off Eevee, but refused to look you in the eye. It hurt more than you thought, the late night walk replaying in your head. With no news on Rotom, worry at your stomach constantly.

Your mother visited you as soon as she knew where you were. Of course, some details were left out when she was told what happened. Thankfully, Namjoon was extremely charming and won your mother's trust quickly. Still, she insisted on staying with you after you were discharged. That's when she began to figure out the truth, as you hadn't hidden any of the folders, papers, and pictures that littered your apartment. As soon as the door was shut behind you, your mother took a shaky breath as she surveyed the mess on the coffee and kitchen tables.

"Why can't you move forward? Sweetie, I know how hard it is, but obsessing like this is only causing you more pain." She turned to you with tears in her eyes, although she refused to allow the memories to take hold and bring her down. Your mother was brave, and you admired her so much for that. Regret caused your chest to become heavy, and you blinked against the tears in your eyes. You took a shaky breath yourself and pulled her into a tight hug. Even though it hurt your body, you stayed there for a long moment

"It's not just about her, Mom. It's about all the people and pokemon that are being hurt. They deserve justice, too,” you replied, head on her shoulder and her arms around your waist like you were a little girl again. A light chuckle escaped her lips as you pulled back. Both of you smiled and wiped the tears off your cheeks.

"I can't lose you, too," she whispered. She cleared her throat and moved forward from the stress that was obviously playing on her mind.

"You won't. I'll be more careful, I promise. I have new information and connections to good people." You did your best to give her the most reassuring grin you could muster before starting to stack the papers on the coffee table.

"Like Detective Min?" You fumbled with some pages, but you made it through hopefully without her noticing. The little snort your mother let out told you she had caught it immediately. You pressed your lips together, the heaviness of regret in your chest becoming worse. “He seems to be upset about you going into the compound as much as I am.”

"No, he's more upset knowing I used him to get information," you admitted, gripping the papers in your hand tightly as you set them on the kitchen table. Your mother watched you as she sat on your couch, doing her best not to look or touch anything. She refused to look at the files now that she knew what it was. You felt her eyes on you as you came back to sit on the couch next to her. You slouched as you sat, pouting. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me, professionally or personally. I hate that I feel guilty for doing that to him. I’ve done it more than once, and it never hit me like this!”

“I’m going into Sage Mom mode, my dear,” she quipped, patting your knee. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for whatever Mom Advice she was going to throw your way. “I think, from what I’ve seen in the last few days, there is an attraction between the two of you. For one reason or another, you both seem to be… caught off guard by it. Am I correct so far?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, looking at your hands.

“That’s a yes,” she chuckled. “What’s the worst thing that could happen if you bring it into the open?”

“He laughs in my face.” You felt the burn of rejection even with the simple thought. She just stares at you, eyebrows raised, waiting for you to realize how childish it truly was. You groaned and covered your face as she laughed.

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

The next morning, after you finished a late breakfast, your mother answered a knock on the door as you typed rapidly on your laptop. You couldn’t see who it was from your spot at the kitchen table, but when the visitor spoke, your hands froze in mid-air.

"Detective Min! Would you like to come in?" Your mother put a lot of sweetness into the greeting. You closed your eyes tight and willed Yoongi to pass on the invitation.

"Sorry, ma'am, I can't right now. I brought news about Rotom, though." It seemed he might have felt your pleading. "She can pick him up at the pokemon center next to the precinct."

"I'll make sure she receives the message. We both are worried sick over the ghostly bolt." You bit your lip and strained to listen, opening your eyes.

"How…" he stopped and cleared his throat. "How is she doing? Healing well?" You could imagine exactly what your mother’s face looked like, with her eyebrows raised and a sly smile on her lips. You clinched and unclinched your fingers into fists, then sat them on your lap as you slouched down into your chair. Head tilted back, you closed your eyes once again.

“Healing well, thank you for asking. Just a few more days of rest and she’ll be out and about like it never happened. You sure you don’t want to come in and talk to her yourself? I was about to step out, anyway…”

You knew your mother was boldly lying. With a quiet sigh, you opened your eyes, stood, and made your way around the corner toward the door. When you rounded the corner, your eyes met with Yoongi’s. Your mother looked between the two of you for all of three seconds before she stepped away from the door.

“Hey, Yoongi. Do you have news on Rotom?” Eevee brushed her tail against your leg, then trotted up to him. She nuzzled his calf, which Yoongi responded by bending over and patting her head quickly.

“Like I said, I was just about to leave so…” your mother moved her gaze around the room, then hurried to the lounge chair to grab her jacket. You watched her for a moment, then turned back to your guest.

“News, yeah,” he finally replied. Eevee kept pressing her face against his leg, so he scooped her up and held her easily in his arms. She happily licked and nuzzled his face, bringing a gummy smile out. “I see you’re doing well, Eevee. Rotom is at the pokemon center next to the precinct.” He glanced at you as he said this, but focused on giving Eevee loving scratches behind her ears. She mewed and purred in pleasure.

“Thanks for letting me know,” you said.

“I think I’ll be back in a few hours? Yes, two hours at the earliest. A friend of mine invited me for…. bingo. Yes! Bingo! I do love a good bingo game.” You shuffled your feet awkwardly and your mother tried her best to make her loud statement sound true. You find yourself catching Yoongi’s eyes but are interrupted by your mother slipping behind you and through the door. “I’ll see you two later. Oh! My dear, your favorite wine is in the cabinet, you asked for it yesterday, remember?”

“Uh… thanks, I appreciate it. Have fun at… bingo?” You frowned, watching your mother skip toward her car. Yoongi and you both lifted a hand to do a little wave as she pulled out onto the road. Eevee was comfortable dozing in Yoongi’s arms as you turned toward one another.

“This is clearly a set up, no one is that excited for bingo,” Yoongi quipped, a smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. Your breath caught, hope slowly blooming. Maybe he wasn’t as mad as he was before.

“Clearly,” you repeated, taking a step back. Deciding to just go for it, you continued. “Would you like to come in? We should talk about… what happened.”

“What happened? You played detective and nearly got yourself killed.” He pressed his lips together, closed his eyes for a long moment, then let out a slow breath. You looked down at your rainbow socks in guilt as he gave Eevee one more scratch before setting her down. She reluctantly padded away, glancing over her shoulder a few times before turning around the corner.

“I-I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly, stumbling over the words. You weren’t sorry about following a lead, but you were sorry for causing others to worry about you, especially your mother… and Yoongi. Shuffling your feet, you tried to think of what else to say, but nothing came out.

“I accept your apology,” he replied, a soft smile on his face. He wiggled the fingers of his broken arm, the cast now completely covered with signatures, well wishes, and childish drawings.

“Who did the drawings?” you asked, stepping close and touching them with your fingers.

“We had a family day yesterday, some detectives and officers brought their kids. Real artists, aren’t they?” You both chuckled as you traced a stick figure that represented an officer. You leaned over to look closer as he did, your heads close together. You slowly looked up into his face, catching his eyes.

“Does this mean you aren’t angry with me anymore?” you asked in a soft, hopeful voice. You swallowed hard as he looked down, eyes suddenly intense and cheeks flushed.

“I’m a little disappointed,” he murmured. He licked his lips as he lifted a hand and placed his palm on your cheek. You found yourself wishing with all your might he would kiss you, right here, right now. He stepped closer and leaned in, and you closed your eyes, waiting for his soft lips against yours.

Suddenly a light beam escapes from Yoongi’s pocket, and a high-pitched tittering made you open your eyes, Yoongi stepping away. Victini flew around you, grinning happily as they touched your hair, shoulders, and face as if to make sure you were healthy. You glanced at Yoongi, noticing with amusement how red his face was. He was looking everywhere but you, clearly flustered.

“Oh, hey, Vee, how are you doing?” you ask the pokemon, plucking them out of the air and holding them in your arms. Vee chatted on, almost like they were telling a story. You responded as you thought you should, nodding along.

“I… uh… Vee missed you,” Yoongi stuttered. You looked straight at him this time, and he looked at the shelf to your right, clearing his throat.

“Well, they have fantastic timing,” you snorted, highly entertained by everything happening at the moment. A tough guy like Yoongi suddenly becoming flustered over a little almost-kiss showed you there might be more than what you see.

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On the way back to his place after visiting you, Yoongi couldn’t stop replaying what had almost happened. He had been thinking about kissing you, even before today, but he didn’t think it would happen. It was just his luck that it gets interrupted just before it happens. Victini had been so excited to see you, he couldn’t put it back in its ball. Instead, Yoongi pretended nothing had happened, put a smile on his face, and took a seat on your couch. Eevee had settled herself onto his lap, and he ended up staying for an hour.

He saw you in a different light after you opened up about your sister’s relation to Team Nocturna, and even admitted to taking a few things from his desk. As he drove now, he smirked, remembering his quip about not getting fired because he was the best detective on the force. Now that he knew exactly what you wanted, Yoongi knew he could help. It took some convincing, but you ultimately agreed to speak to one other person about this.

The first thing he did was speak to his superior with their office door locked.

“So… if I’m understanding this correctly,” Kim Daewon replied slowly, hands clasped in front of him. He looked into his entwined fingers before continuing, taking a big breath. “She has basically decided to take down one of the biggest, most mysterious crime organizations related to pokemon all on her own?” He raised his eyebrows, still clearly taking in this information.

“When you put it that way, it sounds stupid,” Yoongi murmured. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, and it is, but she has gathered a good amount of information. She also found their compound when we spent two years searching with nothing.”

At that statement, Daewon leaned back in his chair and petted his stoutland as he thought about what Yoongi was asking him.

“Do you have some sort of a plan?”

“It's… a work in progress?”

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“You don’t look like the camping type,” you commented. Yoongi grunted as he finished putting the tent together. He wiped his brow with his arm to keep the sweat from getting into his eyes. It was the perfect temperature for jeans and a t-shirt, but Yoongi had been fighting the tent for the last half an hour.

“I know how to put up a tent, does that count?” He grinned and put an arm out, presenting his work. The impressed glint in your eye made his stomach flip with butterflies, but he made himself ignore the flush coming over his body. “Namjoon said it was the easiest one he had.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with your arm? It’s only been two weeks since your cast came off.” The worry in your voice caused Yoongi to drop the tent bag on the ground and turn to face you. He walked and stopped in front of you, lifting your chin with the arm in question. You blinked, surprised at the intimate contact, and Yoongi smirked. He dropped his hand as soon as your attention was on him.

“Check this out.” He lifted his arms and flexed, proudly showing off the muscles he had been working on for the last 16 days. Granted, they weren’t as pronounced as Namjoon’s arms, but he was getting there. You snort and let out a big laugh, putting your palms on your cheeks to assumably hide the blush.

After the almost-kiss and discussion with the lieutenant, you three put together a plan for taking down the compound in the forest. The first thing that needed to be done was information gathering, which would be Yoongi and you putting several recording devices around the property. The second part would be cutting through the security, which would be a team of officers and their pokemon. The third part would be a lockdown of the compound, making sure that no one could escape before they were arrested, with another team of officers. The last thing to do was arrest all Team Nocturna members that are caught in the lockdown.

Now, you and Yoongi were camping just inside the forest edge, waiting for the right time to sneak into the forest and onto the compound. Yoongi’s charizard instructed his coalossal in building a campfire with rocks circling a small pile of lit sticks. Roe the alolan marowak was picking up sticks for the fire, with Shots the rapidash trailing behind with a bag attached to their back. It was half full with the wood Roe had already found. Victini gathered edible berries and piled them on a flat stone near the fire.

“Moltres really likes being with you. Are you sure you won’t catch it?” you questioned, eyes in the sky as the legendary pokemon glides over the trees. You catch a glimpse of their body flames through the leaves of the trees. Yoongi stood next to you and stared at the sky, watching the bird for a long, silent moment.

“I don’t know. It’s one of a kind, I don’t want to cage it.”

“You have a good heart,” you find yourself saying, turning toward him. He faced you in return with raised eyebrows. A cocky smile graced his lips, which caused your own to appear. You always found yourself smiling when he was around. “Kiss me.” It came out without hesitation, and you suddenly felt your stomach drop with dread. His lips parted slightly in surprise and stood stone-still. You opened your mouth to apologize, but he suddenly grabbed you and pressed his lips to his.

Immediately, you gripped his t-shirt over his chest, clinging as he went from 0 to 60 in seconds, diving his tongue inside your mouth as you greedily accepted. His hands gripped your hips tightly as you tilted your head to get even more. Desire hit you hard, causing your whole body to flush and your heart to pound in your chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body flush against his.

“Okay…whoa…okay…” Yoongi pulled back and stuttered, gasping for breath while still holding you close. You stared at each other for a moment, then dipped his head just enough to place his forehead against yours. “That was…”

“Intense?” You were still breathing harder than normal. You chuckled and brushed your lips against his, unwilling to let go of him, not wanting to ruin the heated moment happening. He seemed to want the same, because Yoongi’s hands slid down to cup your behind. You sucked in a breath as he squeezed while nipping and kissing your lips. You suddenly realize there are noises going around you, the pokemon continuing to do their chores. “Uh, we have an audience. I think?” Reluctantly, you both untangled yourself, faces hot. Yoongi reached out for your hand, holding it sweetly.

“Would you… will you spend the night with me, after this is all over?” Yoongi seemed nervous, fingers twitching in yours, but he kept his eyes on your face. You squeezed his hand and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

“I am spending the night now, there’s only one tent.” As Yoongi choked on a laugh, you turned and went back to looking over the recording equipment.

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It was easy enough to place the equipment, especially with Eevee and Rotom keeping watch. Instead of taking time to attach them to the trees and fence posts, you sat them on branches and posts and got away as fast as possible. The cover of darkness helped immensely, while Yoongi’s pokemon patrolled just outside of view. Throughout the sneaking, Yoongi would randomly come close, place a quick kiss on your lips, then scamper off. Each time, you were caught off guard, finding it hard to focus quickly back on the task.

The operation went as smoothly as expected, although you had almost gotten caught by an oblivious security guard. The compound was in lockdown by sunrise, and you were at the front, waiting to go inside. Yoongi spent a few minutes trying to convince you it wasn't safe, but he quickly realized you were going to do it no matter what. Sighing, he became your bodyguard as you entered.

When you entered the central office, you kept your chin held high, briefly touching Yoongi’s hand with the back of yours before stepping forward. The room had at least 10 guys from your operation, guns pointed at two men in the middle. Lieutenant Kim Daewon nodded toward you.

"So say your piece quickly," he said. You glanced at a man you knew, Kim Taehyung, standing a step behind what looked like the one in charge. You ignored him, focusing on the other one.

"You're not the leader of Nocturna," you state. You heard murmuring around you, but kept going. “The man I saw, the one I know is the leader, is long gone. You must be a throwaway lackey."

You saw the man's jaw clench, but he held himself back, probably on account of the many firearms pointing at him. He took a deep breath and spoke.

"The leader of the new world is safely on his way to his castle. I proudly give my freedom for our righteous cause."

"What is this cause of yours?" asked the lieutenant. The room was quiet, a layer of icy anticipation settling.

"Might as well talk. I have a charizard that would love to roast and eat you." Yoongi took Egan's pokeball out and tossed it up and down a few times. Everyone but the bad guys knew he was bluffing, but the idea of a hungry charizard is terrifying.

"The evolution of humankind," the lackey stated evenly. "Through pokemon, we will ascend to the next state of being. It's already begun."

While the man was explaining the Great Cause, Taehyung was staring at you, nervously swallowing with his hands up in surrender. You leaned over to whisper in Yoongi's ear.

"He's my inside man," you said, glancing at Taehyung. Yoongi gave a small nod and whispered to another officer. It went down the line to the lieutenant, like the game of Telephone. You could only hope he got the correct message.

"Already begun how?" Daewon asked, getting the attention of the man. Behind the bad guy, Taehyung was quietly ushered out of sight. You were putting your trust in Yoongi and his team to keep him safe.

"Our experiment had great success many years ago, and now we are ready to go to the next phase." It seemed this guy was enjoying knowing all the answers as he grinned smugly at everyone.

"Was my sister part of this new phase?" You asked, voice shaking at the end of the question. You took a deep breath and narrowed your eyes.

"I don't know, who was your sister? Depends if she was useful or not." Your hands clenched into fists, but you stayed where you were. "Wait… the reporter? I see the resemblance now. No, she was just collateral damage." He shrugged as if it was a simple statement.

You felt rage building in your stomach, moving up through your chest, threatening to spill out through your mouth and fists. Yoongi pulled you gently back, out of the room and back into the wooded area outside. He put his hands on your cheeks and did a few calming breathing techniques. Finally, you felt calm enough to speak.

"Thanks for pulling me out of there," you murmured. He lowered his hands but stayed close, watching your expression. You swallowed, head buzzing. Your sister had been nothing but collateral damage, and you knew it would take a moment to wrap your head around that.

"I couldn't risk you getting arrested for beating him half to death," he quipped. Yoongi placed a kiss on your forehead and stepped back. "Go to my place, you'll be safe there. Take my pokemon with you, Roe knows the passcode to unlock the entrance."

"Keep Egan. Just in case, or I won't go."

"Fine, no arguments from me." After Yoongi softly kissed you goodbye, you took his pokeballs he offered and left. Gradually, the anger that was simmering below turned into grief, something you hadn't let yourself feel for a long time. As soon as the pokemon let you inside, you broke down sobbing, falling to the carpet just inside the closed door. You felt warmth around you.

Roe stayed near you, patting your shoulder. Hot tears rolled down your cheek. The image of your sister, laughing brightly, came to you, briefly calming you enough to stop the tears. Unfortunately, the happy visual turned into a memory of the funeral, the closed casket in front of you as your mother clung to your side. Your sobs became loud once more, and Yoongi's pokemon all appeared around you. Their warmth made it easier for you to let it out, unafraid of judgment.

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

You must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you remembered was being carried. Eyes closed, you had no idea where you were going. Instead of worrying, you turned your face into a sweater that smelled like someone you knew. As the arms gently put you on the bed, you opened your eyes, and realized they were swollen from all the tears that had fallen.

“I look like shit,” you murmured, covering your face. You heard Yoongi chuckle softly. You didn’t move your hands as you felt the bed move as he settled next to you. “What time is it?”

“Still dark. And you look just like you always do, only more relaxed.”

“I’m not sure how to take that,” you replied, lowering your hands slowly. Settling them on your stomach, you saw Yoongi on his back, hands behind his head. You were on your back on a king-sized bed, on top of a dark comforter. He stayed silent for a moment, then turned abruptly toward you, propping his head on his hand.

“Beautiful like every other time I’ve seen you, but not as sad as you were when I met you. And not as angry. It seems you needed a good cry,” he replied.

"I thought I was done with crying," you sighed, looking towards the ceiling. You both laid there, comfortable and quiet.

"Can I kiss you, now?" Yoongi asked, still propping his head up. A smile tugged at your lips as you turned your head just enough to catch his eyes.

"I was hoping for more than a kiss, but if that's all you have…."

His eyebrows lifted right before he leaned down and kissed you.

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts suga #suga x reader #pokemon au #yoongi fanfic

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